Picking up where we left off in the last chapter...
The Darby House: Maximalverse
Jack shot upright with a gasp, clawing at the sheets. His breath came in ragged sobs as sweaty hands clenched and unclenched in the twisted mess of blankets.
Another nightmare.
The details were already fading as he slowly oriented himself in his room - not that he was particularly interested in remembering what had shot him into wakefulness - but he remembered the high cackle of Skullcruncher, when the Predacon had been hunting him in France, and he remembered an image of soldiers with guns surrounding his mother, then the black lion from the campsite whispering Steady your spark, it is not yet time. After that there was nothing definite. Fear, fire, crimson eyes narrowed in disgust.
Jack took slow, deep breaths and clutched the carved eagle in his fist until the stone wings left deep impressions in his palm. Ray raised his head at the end of the bed, ears pricked up. He whined softly and pushed his nose under the boy's hand.
"I'm okay, boy, it was just a dream," Jack croaked. He groaned and ruffled the dog's soft ears, then carefully extricated himself from the sheets. Ray scrambled down to follow Jack as he eased the door open and slipped into the hallway. After all, when humans went wandering at night, there was always a chance that Ray would end up with a snack.
Jack paused as a floorboard creaked beneath his bare feet and shot a worried glance at his parents' room - he still wasn't used to saying "parents" plural. Part of him was afraid to get comfortable with it, as he knew that he would escape this dimension and return home one day, where there was no plural. Just him and his mother, against the world alone.
Jack's ears caught the faintest click of metal from the other end of the house and a smile tugged at his lips. Well, maybe not quite so alone.
With the German Shepherd trailing at his heels, Jack crept into the kitchen, grabbing a worn blanket from the back of the couch on his way. He had school in the morning, which meant that he'd have to be back in his room before his parents were awake, but he'd gotten good at predicting their schedules. He had time. The door squeaked alarmingly when it was pushed open, but as the other half of the house remained silent, Jack assumed it hadn't woken anyone. He nudged Ray out of the way and padded into the darkness with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
"Hey partner," Arcee's warm voice greeted him almost before his eyes had adjusted to find her massive form huddled in the corner. "I thought I heard you moving around in there."
"Nightmare," Jack yawned, and picked his way around tarps and toolboxes until he was leaned against the Autobot's warm plating. He smiled and closed his eyes. "I just needed to make sure you were still here."
Without a word, Arcee scooped Jack up into her arms and leaned back against the wall. Long servos swept through sweaty, tangled hair in a soothing rhythm as the pair took comfort in each other's presence. Jack would normally have protested being cradled like a baby by anyone, especially his partner, but he knew they both needed this right now. They had been forced apart by the apparently arbitrary machinations of...something - Jack wasn't sure whether the black lion was to blame or not - for over five months, and both were reluctant to leave each other's sight for long.
"You need to go to school tomorrow?" Arcee murmured after a few moments of introspective quiet.
"Yeah," Jack whispered back, and his eyes fell on Ray, curled happily at Arcee's pedes. He smiled briefly before sighing. "I can't exactly play hooky: my...my dad is one of my teachers. And I freak him out a little bit as is, I don't need to give him another reason to question me."
"True," Arcee acknowledged. She shifted position, bringing Jack closer to her spark. "I suppose you'll be headed to the base after school?" She felt Jack shake his head.
"No. I have to work, and then I have to come straight home. Mom and Dad have both been wondering about dropped shifts and where I go. Miko thinks I should lay low for a few days, just until they settle back into routine and stop noticing where I go and what I do," he mumbled as sleep began to overtake him again.
"Wake me up at five, okay, 'Cee? I can't let them find me in here come morning," Jack yawned, then nestled closer to the heat of the Autobot's spark.
Arcee smiled and brushed a hand over his head one more time. "Sure, partner," she whispered. "Get some rest. I've got your back."
Once the human's breathing had leveled out into a steady rhythm, Arcee let out a long exvent and activated her comm.
/Wheeljack?/
\Ah ah, "Snarl" on this world, remember?\ the Wrecker's snarky reply was almost instantaneous.
Arcee scowled in the gloom. /Don't start with me. I'm hanging back for a few days, just until Jack can get his parents to stop hovering. That means you're in charge of making sure you know where Miko and Raf are at all times, is that clear?/
There was a long pause before Wheeljack answered again. \The munchkin is sleeping right now, and I'm guessing the Baby Genius is too. I can drive over and scan if you want. But yeah, I'll watch 'em tomorrow. Though I might have some competition from these Maximals.\
/I know./ Arcee's reply carried morose connotations in the glyphs. /I don't know where their Jack, Miko, and Raf are, but it might be a struggle to get them to release ours. I hope it doesn't come to that though./
\Me either.\ then, after a few more minutes, \See ya in a couple days, 'Cee.\
/You get Miko in trouble and I'll make you regret your entire existence, Wolfjack/ Arcee warned. She waited until Wheeljack sent a glyph for irritated amusement at the nickname she'd used, then she signed off to wait for dawn.
Maximal Base, the next day
"Something wrong, ankle biter?"
Razorback looked up from the data cylinder he'd been carving and found Star Upper crouched over the walkway Rattrap and Polar Claw had installed around the base walls for the humans to walk on. Rafael was huddled there, looking absolutely miserable. Normally, Razorback would have gone back to his work and ignored this, but he'd never seen the smallest human looking so dejected before. Hadn't he just been reunited with two Autobots from his home dimension? Razorback would've thought the boy would've been ecstatic, but here he was looking ready to cry.
The gruff Maximal set down his tools and moved to stand next to his fellow Nebulan mech. "Hey there, small fry," he grunted, "Why so glum?"
Raf swiped at his nose and sniffled for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I'm okay," he said in a voice that suggested otherwise, "I'm just...I'm worried about Jack's mom. His actual mom, not your Jack's mom."
Ah. Razorback leaned back and caught Star Upper's optic. The bronze mech frowned and nodded, then reached out to scoop the little organic up into one bulky hand.
"Because of your mum?" he guessed, "You think she's gonna have Jack's mum arrested, right?"
Raf nodded shakily. "I should've expected it, I guess. But I got so caught up in life here, school and homework and whatever, that I almost forgot there was another world I belong to." He folded his arms across his narrow chest and frowned. "There are consequences when a kid goes missing for as long as we have. Mrs. Darby's life wasn't so great before, but this could ruin her permanently! Agent Fowler might have to put her into witness protection when it's all over!"
"Would he separate her from the Autobots?" Razorback asked.
"N-no, I don't think so," the small boy gulped. "MECH knows what she looks like."
"What's MECH?" Star Upper blinked, confused. Raf quickly waved off the question, muttering that they didn't want to know, and the Nebulan glanced suspiciously at Razorback, who shrugged.
"So...if they ain't gonna separate her from the 'Bots, what're ya so fussed about, mate?" Star Upper tilted his helm. "If she's with them, she's got no worries, right?"
Now the boy scowled and tucked his chin close to his chest. "You don't know much about humans, do you Star?" he accused. "How would she make a living? What about human interaction? Where would she and Jack live and go to school once we get home?"
This rankled Star Upper a little bit. He didn't know a lot about human cultures, true, but he'd grown up on Nebulos with both parents working in an arms factory and most of his friends were the native organic Nebulans - a group suppressed and politically limited by the Maximal Imperium. He thought back over what he'd said and, after a few minutes, suppressed a cringe.
"Right, sorry mate. Mech-privilege talking," he apologized. "But I still think you're making more out of this than ya have to."
Before Rafael could respond in irritation, Razorback cut in. "He means there's no point fretting now when you don't know what's really happening on the other side of the Rift," he translated. "And whatever happens, that Prime of yours is a good spark. If he decides the woman is staying with the Autobots, I doubt Unicron himself could make him go back on his word."
Objectively, Rafael knew they were right. But subjectively, it was hard not to worry. And as much as he fretted about June and how she fared, he was just as worried - if not more worried - about what would happen to him once they all returned to their original universes. Would the alternate Rafael be overwhelmed by the Maximals, too afraid to take advantage of a base full of adults who actually listened? Would his own parents keep him under lock and key to prevent him from disappearing again? Would they demand answers he couldn't give? Rafael feared that he might trade the chaos he was so easily lost in for a complete lack of freedom that would make it nigh impossible to see his Autobot friends….his Autobot family, he corrected himself.
Rafael wrapped his short arms around himself and missed Bumblebee more than ever. The hand holding him pulled him back against coppery red-brown plating and soft, tawny fur.
"Here now, ankle-biter," Star Upper's voice was gentle and almost affectionate. "Don't take on so! Wanna hear the story about how Bumblebee near broke my jaw?"
He'd heard the story upwards of four times by now, but Raf appreciated the gesture. He wiped his eyes and nodded. "Thanks, Star," he sniffled.
"Don't mention it!" the brash boxer grinned widely and winked at Razorback. Then he strode out of the room and down the maze of hallways that filled the base like a honeycomb, headed for one of the upper levels. "I'd been undercover on the Darksyde for months, gathering intel, and I'd made a name for myself in the rings…"
Wheeljack was dumbfounded.
For as long as he'd known Miko - which, admittedly, was not that long - she had never struck him as the kind of kid who willingly did her homework. Hers was a mind caught up in the now, keenly observant in ways that other people missed, but not completely suited to pages of trite word equations in a language she had not been born speaking.
Sometimes he wondered if the other humans remembered that their species couldn't perfectly download other languages in an instant like Cybertronians could. He knew - and Bulkhead would never let him forget anyway - that Miko was a very intelligent girl. He just wasn't used to seeing her apply that to American schoolwork.
He lay on the mossy floor of the upper chamber, trying to get used to his wolf body. If he absolutely had to stay disguised as a Maximal while there were Predacons that could spot him, he needed to be more used to its range of motion in casual situations as well as the combat he'd gotten comfortable with in his own universe. He tilted his head to the side and made a curious growling sound.
"That doesn't sound at all like a wolf, Wh- I mean Snarl," Miko snorted. "More like a mutant turkey."
"Yeah," the mech sighed, "I need to practice Earth-animal sounds." He rose up onto his haunches and peered over into the couch area. "Whatcha working on, kiddo?"
"Math," the girl grunted. "This world's teacher actually stops to explain the concepts instead of yammering on about standardized tests all the time, so it kinda makes sense." She scribbled down an answer and sighed. "Six more word problems, then I can take a break. What do you want to do when I'm done, W- Snarl?"
Now "Snarl" stood and padded the rest of the way over to the human living area tacked on next to the main consoles and rested his massive head on the platform to look up at Miko. "Ah, I dunno," he grumbled. "This place gives me the creeps. Too much rock and wood, not enough metal." Then, in a softer voice he added, "And not enough Wreckers."
There was a soft click as Miko set down the pencil, and a rustle of cloth as she shifted to look at the four-changer. "Hey," she said softly, "Ya got me. And I got you. We've got this, Jackie, even if there aren't any other Wreckers here." A bit wistfully, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wish I knew what happened to them in this world. Best guy to talk to would be 'Claw or Rattrap, but their info is kinda limited to whatever the brass back on Cybertron says they can learn. Y'know?"
A low, rumbling snarl built up in the wolf's chest and he bared his teeth. "Yeah. I noticed when I was up there."
At this, Miko perked up, and Snarl realized that he was probably distracting her from schoolwork. Ah well, he reasoned, in the long run, this was more useful information than how many pancakes bought a human soul or whatever kids in math class learned these days.
"You actually saw their Cybertron up close?" she asked eagerly, "Was it like our Cybertron?"
"More like Earth, if the dirt and rocks were metal and the h2O was mithril or energon," he corrected. "Pretty weird, actually. And cold! I ain't never known Kaon to be cold!" As if in memory, he shuddered, and his fur poofed out a good inch or so. He studiously ignored Airazor's giggle from across the chamber.
Miko hid a smile and went back to her work. The smile faded from her face as she went back to work. It made perfect sense for Wheeljack - or Snarl, or Wolfjack, as Arcee had been snidely calling him when he annoyed her - to be uncomfortable here, in this world. This was the polar opposite of everything he'd been born to, very much like her transition from Tokyo to Jasper. Miko had made the best of it in the half-abandoned town, but she still knew all too well how lonely it was to paste on a smile and pretend you were comfortable in a world that was so different, where you were considered the "exotic" one, or the "weirdo".
It was a little easier here, as much as she didn't want to admit it, for no other reason than her parents were here with her and they'd barely changed at all. Well, admittedly Shirako was often irritating, but she was pretty sure it was in the contract for being an older sibling. Miko bit her lip and tried to focus on her schoolwork, but thoughts of home drew her to thoughts of Bulkhead, as they always did, and she gave up.
"Bulk told me what our Cybertron was like before the war," she said softly. "It is that bad on this Cybertron too?"
Snarl waited until the girl had slipped over the railing to perch on his back, just behind his shoulders. Then he paced away, heading for the lift. "It's….well not quite. It's like they decried Functionism as wrong and prejudiced on the surface, but traded it for xenophobia and colonialism to distract folk. Never mind that classifying species by whether or not they're metal-based is just another form of Functionism. By now it's pretty much institutionalized."
Miko could feel Snarl's low growl vibrating through her hands as she clutched his fur.
"I didn't see more than one town, and it was a place where there wasn't much of a police presence. The Enforcers that were there weren't exactly singing the High Council's praises, if ya know what I mean." The lift stopped and the wolf took a turn down the lefthand passage to get to the courtyard. "There's a lot of colonists out there willing to support humanoids. The Imperium is probably a couple riots away from a revolution on Nebulos, from what I hear."
Miko grimaced. "That's Razorback and Star Upper's homeworld," she said. "They don't like to talk about it. Probably because if you get Star started, he doesn't stop." She gave a weary sigh and rested her face in Snarl's fur. It still smelled of Wheeljack: fuel and axle-grease and energon and the slightest scent of grenades. "Jack says the Imperium's current ruler is trying to outlaw the techno-supremacist practices, but that kind of thing doesn't disappear overnight, does it?"
"Guess not."
The two spent much of the rest of that afternoon in the garden, being somewhat out of sorts. Things brightened somewhat when Polar Claw joined them and began talking explosives with Snarl. His grenades, it turned out, were only marginally more advanced than Wheeljack's, using a cleaner fuel that left fewer scorch marks. The pair got into an animated discussion, with Miko chipping in her own two cents here and there.
Snarl was sufficiently impressed with the story of how Miko had used grenades to temporarily blind a Predacon, and even more pleased that she'd discovered the recipe all by herself.
"That's our lil' Wrecker!" he announced proudly, "Bulkhead will be tickled when he hears this!"
The rest of the week passed unusually quickly for him. He learned the scents of all ten Maximals in the base, and started attending the training sessions with fellow mutated Autobot, Cheetor. He'd made some joke about "old dog, new tricks" and Raf hadn't stopped snickering yet. It took him longer than expected to figure out how to use the internal comm system while wearing the shape of an animal, but once he'd worked it out, Snarl spent a fair amount of time calling Arcee and discussing plans for monitoring the radiation buildup so that they'd know when they could grab the kids and escape back home.
Arcee, for her part, was incredibly bored, just staying in the corner of the garage or the parking lot of Jack's job, pretending to be an ordinary vehicle. But she remembered how much trouble her partner had gotten in back home when she'd snuck out while he was supposed to be home, and with two parents watching this time, she wasn't going to risk it.
This John Darby character came into the garage regularly in the evenings, whether to grab food for the rabbits or dog, or to talk with Jack, who still had a small workstation set up near Arcee's corner. He seemed to be genuinely affectionate with the boy, but there was a caution in the way they dealt with each other, as if one was afraid to get attached and the other was afraid of asking why.
One evening, June, John, and Jack all got into the battered sedan and left - Jack had said they were going to visit the man he called Mr. Whitefeather - leaving Arcee alone with only the Darby pets for company. She had no intention of opening the tiny kitchen door to introduce herself to the rabbits. They'd probably all have heart attacks just looking at her. Arcee transformed, glad to be out of vehicle mode, and leaned against the wall with a sigh. Ray apparently heard this, because a brown and black head poked eagerly through the flap on the kitchen door a moment later.
"I'm guessing you've seen a couple Cybertronians before," Arcee addressed the animal. "The dogs in my world never liked me." It occurred to her after a second that she'd just referred to the Earth of her home dimension as her world. With a bittersweet smile, she supposed it was true enough.
\Yo, Arcee, whatcha up to?\ Wheeljack's message sounded slightly smug and Arcee was instantly suspicious.
/Home alone,/ she answered sarcastically, /Just setting some booby-traps in case of burglars. What're you doing?/
In answer, her internal proximity alarms started tracking a spark signature and there was a knock on the garage door.
"Hey, you gonna let me in?" a familiar, gruff voice sounded from the other side.
"Is this the part where I'm supposed to say not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin?" Arcee snorted, but she opened the garage door anyway.
"Snarl" stood there, tongue lolling, for all the world like a real canine. Except that he was almost the size of a pickup truck. Miko sat on his back with three red triangles painted on her face and wearing some kind of costume consisting of a black skirt and raggedy white tank top.
"Check it out, 'Cee!" Miko crowed as the wolf trotted into the garage. "We've got this Mononoke cosplay in the bag!"
"Except for your hair," Arcee pointed out as she shut the garage door again. This did not dim the human's enthusiasm in the slightest.
Miko slid down to greet Ray, who had rolled over onto his back, tail wagging and hoping the Very Big Dog would like him. And it talked like a human! Ray wondered if it knew things humans knew. He was very interested in finding out just who the "good boy" was. The humans were always asking him if he knew, but he hadn't figured it out yet!
"So today I found out I can track a Predacon once I've smelled him," Snarl sat back on his haunches, tail waving lazily. "The fella who got me mutated in the first place, the shell-dinosaur-whaddycallit from the bounty hunter ship, he's on this continent. Cheetor and I traced him from North Dakota up to Saskatchewan, lost the trail around Lake Manitoba."
"What was he doing up there? And without his team?" Arcee bunched her brows and frowned.
"Got me." Snarl craned his neck and scratched behind one ear with his hind foot vigorously. "I'd have tried to pick up the scent again, but there were too many humans around and we had to make ourselves scarce."
"Seems like you're settling in."
Snarl paused and put his foot down to examine the femme. There was something about her tone that didn't sit right. It wasn't quite anger, but it was more than annoyance. And was that concern in her optics? Snarl guessed at what might be bothering her and lowered his head to nudge Miko.
"Hey, why don't you take the yapping thing out in the back real quick? I bet Jack will be happy not to have to clean up any puddles in here when he gets back."
"Ew!" Miko pretended to gag. "Fiiiine. But you're not fooling anybody." She knew when an adult was trying to get rid of her so they could talk about "serious things". She always knew. But this was Wheeljack, so she'd let it slide for now. "Come on, Ray!"
Miko crawled through the dog door, as the main door itself was locked, and led the dog towards the back of the house. Once she was gone, Snarl shifted into his bipedal mode and crossed his arms.
"Alright, what?"
Arcee folded her own arms and nodded towards him. "Look, I get undercover work. I was a forward scout for decades, you know I understand laying low. But you're not even using your Autobot name and shape when we're in isolated or secure locations, like here or the base!"
"Gotta stay in character, Arcee," Snarl grunted. "One slip-up on the field and it's over."
"I know." Now Arcee was annoyed. "And I'm not saying you shouldn't help the Maximals with their missions. Once Jack's parents ease up, I'll be helping too. But this isn't home, and this is only a temporary assignment."
Snarl bristled. "You think I've forgotten that?" he growled, suddenly tense, "We got ripped away from the last dregs of the resistance in the middle of a war! I know the stakes if we don't get back." Neither wanted to say it aloud, but they knew: if they spent even a year further in this place, there was an extremely high probability that they'd come home to find Team Prime dead and Megatron laying waste to Earth. They knew this wasn't a game.
Snarl looked away and leaned against the wall. "This isn't just some vacation, and I sure as scrap ain't gonna spend the rest of my life here! But we have to wait for the radiation, and even though I ain't the most patient guy, I'll do it. But I ain't gone Maximal, if that's what you're scared of."
"I'm not scared of anything," Arcee retorted. "You just make sure you don't forget how to change back."
For a moment, both were silent. Tensions were high and neither wanted to say something they'd regret. They were the only Autobots in this universe, and they couldn't afford to alienate each other. Then, with a rough sigh, Snarl spoke again, his voice modulating itself to be Wheeljack's once more even if he did not completely change form.
"Arcee, look, it's not that simple anymore," Wheeljack tried to explain, running his servos over his helm. "This isn't a new personality, even if I made up a fake name to go with it while we're here. This is an addition to my body. I'm a four-changer now, and if I'm comfortable with that, that's a good thing. Lio's been suggesting that I practice shifting from one body to the others a lot during training, to make sure I can transition fluidly. I need to learn to control it." Lio had told him to keep practicing lest he get stuck in one form. Multi-changers like him who let themselves get stagnant usually experienced glitches and health problems related to ignoring the rest of their bodies.
In a softer tone, Wheeljack muttered, "I don't want to hate this body. It's part of me now. It isn't me in my entirety, but it's part of me."
Arcee sighed. When she thought about it, she remembered an old friend, Springer, who had been a triple-changer with the Wreckers. He'd said something similar about his two vehicle modes once. It wasn't that he was one person and then another, it was more akin to a human changing their clothes. Jack didn't become Vince if he put on green Jacket. Miko didn't become Raf if she put on glasses. By that logic, Wheeljack and "Snarl" were still the same mech.
"Sorry," Arcee folded her arms tighter across her torso and looked away. "It's just-"
"You're worried." Wheeljack nodded. "About June, about the Angry Esquivels, about our team. I getcha, I am too."
Miko's head popped through the flap, revealing that she'd been there for some time now. "You two done in there? Because I'm bored. And if the Darbys get back soon, I don't wanna get caught in their unnaturally clean kitchen."
"Relax," Wheeljack snorted, the Snarl voice returning. "I'll get ya back to base in time for your video game marathon with Raf and Break."
He turned back to Arcee and shrugged halfheartedly. "At least Jazz is with them," he said.
"At least," the blue Autobot agreed.
Primeverse: somewhere in the Mojave desert
The outcropping exploded as a heavy form crashed through it, sending a spray of sand and rocks high into the air. Optimus planted his pedes, but the soft surface made it hard to stay upright as he skidded backwards.
"Autobots," he thundered, "Stay together! We need to give Ratchet time!"
The damaged Autobot ship was in the Earth's orbit now, and back at Outpost Omega, Ratchet was frantically trying to calculate exactly where he would need to generate the Bridge in order to get Chromia and Silverbolt safely to the planet's surface. They had worked out that it would be positioned over a set of canyons in the Mojave desert in about fifteen minutes.
Evidently, their movements to intercept the ship had attracted Megatron's attention.
Bumblebee raced past Optimus, subsonic repeaters firing into the dust cloud the Vehicons had raised. A lucky shot grazed Starscream, who let out an indignant screech.
"First I'm sent on a ridiculous mission to find that - surprise! - Optimus Prime is on the move. Then there's all this wretched sand," they could hear him grumbling, "It's so coarse, and irritating, and gets everywhere!"
"Like you?" Jazz popped up from a dune to punch the Seeker across the faceplates. But Starscream was quick and got away with no more than a grazed jaw.
"Well well," he sneered, "Jazz. I'd heard you were on Earth, but I hadn't believed the rumors. You really are foolish if you think one measly Autobot more will make a difference."
"Ah dunno," Jazz smirked, keeping his fists up in a guarded posture, "You take a look at your troops lately, mech?"
Starscream risked a glance behind him to see what had become of the sixteen drones meant to be doing all the heavy fighting. Four were dead already, and at least two more looked like they were seriously contemplating running for their lives. Taking advantage of Starscream's momentary distraction, Jazz delivered a swift punch to his midsection, followed by an uppercut when the Seeker bent to shield the less heavily armored part of his torso.
Behind them, Bulkhead waded through sand and Decepticons, swinging his wrecking ball grimly. He hadn't spoken much since Wheeljack and Arcee had been sucked into the other dimension with the Predacon bounty hunter. In fact, everyone on base had been a little more solemn, a little wearier, a little less hopeful lately. They were hopelessly outgunned and they all knew it. That's why it was so imperative that they safely escort Chromia and Silverbolt to the ground.
"Alright! I think I've got the final lock on their coordinates!" Ratchet barked over their comms, "Optimus, can you give us a little cover? I'm opening the other side of the Bridge to your location!"
"I will do my best, Ratchet," Optimus responded. He traded the sword extended from his wrist for a second path blaster and opened fire.
"Hey Prime," Jazz appeared next to him with little preamble.
"Jazz," he returned evenly.
"Ah think we're gonna need a medic on-hand when the backup gets here," the spy sounded worried. "Far as Ah know, Chromia and Silverbolt are down to the red zone for fuel. They probably won't be good for much but standing around."
"Then, Jazz," Optimus strode forward, "We had best clear the field, don't you think?"
Jazz blinked behind his visor, then chuckled and shook his helm. "Alright mech, you're the boss."
Four more Vehicons fell after a vicious struggle, and the two that Starscream had pegged as deserters turned out to be exactly that, turning tail and driving off into the desert at high speed.
"Let them go." Optimus shook his helm when Bumblebee started to follow. "They cannot return to the Nemesis, there is no need to hunt them down."
That left four Vehicons and Starscream to deal with. As the two sides clashed, the dunes lit up with the glow and the hiss of a Ground Bridge, suspended horizontally in the air. Two large forms fell through with a yelp and a crash, then the portal closed.
Chromia staggered to her feet and shook out her doorwings with a grunt. "What the- aw, it's everywhere!" she groaned, trying to brush the sand away. "This is worse than the Rust Sea!" She looked up and took note of the skirmish taking place. A quick diagnostic revealed that she barely had enough energon to keep her core functions running, let alone summon a weapon. "Fists it is, then," she decided.
The turquoise Autobot hauled herself the rest of the way out of the dune and marched forward. She was bigger than her sister, about the same height as Bumblebee and sturdily built. The femme clasped her hands together and swung them back before driving them into a Vehicon's helm like a sledgehammer. The Decepticon grunted in pain and whirled to bring his blaster to bear on her. Chromia reached out, quick as lightning, and seized the arm that wielded the gun. With a tug, she pulled him forward and with her other hand she struck his chin and neck, using his momentum against him.
As the drone stumbled back, trying to restore damaged data connections through his body that the blow to the base of his helm had jeopardized, an energon pulse slammed into his torso. The following miniature shockwave destroyed his internal fuel tank and ruptured his spark casing. He collapsed without a sound, and Chromia turned to see where the blast had come from.
Silverbolt stood shakily on the dune: a red and grey Blackbird jet about the same size as Skyquake and Dreadwing, one arm still outstretched and aiming his electrostatic discharger rifle, though it wobbled precariously.
"Bolt, you idiot!" Chromia hollered, "You didn't have the energon to fire that thing!"
"Y-e-s," the mech admitted, vocoder skipping and slurring with lack of energy, "I kn-o-o-o-o-w that no-w."
He tilted forward and would have fallen had Bulkhead not made his way up the dunes to catch him. "Easy does it, big guy," the Wrecker warned him.
Starscream knew a defeat when he experienced one. No wonder the Autobots had been fighting more fiercely than normal on this raid: they were bringing reinforcements to Earth! Megatron would be displeased with his failure - though Starscream privately suspected that he'd been sent on this very mission with the expectation that he would fail - but at least he had news to bring his master that perhaps even Soundwave did not know yet. There was some small, bitter consolation in that, and in the fact that the Decepticons still vastly outnumbered the Autobots.
He didn't even bother with final taunts or declarations of retreat. He simply took to the skies and trusted that the last three Vehicons would either follow his lead or be stupid enough to keep fighting when thirteen of their comrades were already gone. (Starscream privately made a note to have the two deserters hunted down and executed).
"Ratchet," Optimus rumbled, "We require a Ground Bridge. And," he added, glancing at the new arrivals, "We will require the sick bay."
Chromia struggled up the dune, aided by Bumblebee. She stopped to salute. "Optimus Prime, sir. Good to see some friendly faces, sir!"
Optimus broke into a soft, tiny smile - his first one in months - and laid a hand on the warrior's shoulder. "Likewise, Chromia. Welcome to Earth."
Bonus Scene:
It was not quiet in the Rift.
Alpha Trion was conscious of a thousand voices and movements and cares, streaming past him from the myriad worlds still safe and untangled in the multiverse. But these two...
He sighed heavily and stood to answer a frantic pulsing of light across several spectrums - most of which were undetectable to the human eye - warning him of the state of the barrier between worlds. The truth was that the Rift was never meant to be traversed. The first opening had been a one sided accident, for which reason he still had the Maximals' Jack, Miko, and Raf in suspended animation, lest there be two of the same person in the same universe. And for which reason he had also taken care to ensure that if there were any Cheetors or Smokescreens occurring naturally in the Maximals' world, they had been appropriately shifted to Uniend 911.05 Alpha. Primax 498.015 Alpha, unfortunately, was making his job more difficult.
At any given time, Alpha Trion saw at least three possible futures, three diverging paths. He'd gambled on the one he felt had the highest probability of occurring and arranged things accordingly. He had not expected the Predacons of Primax 498.015 to gather enough angolmois to actually punch a hole through the barriers of the Rift and take an entire ship through! The massive old Prime paced his sanctuary, growling under his breath. Those Predacons had done significant damage to the Rift, especially in bringing Uniend Cybertronians through with them on their return. After being crossed this many times, the barriers were so thin that angolmois would be leaking furiously into both worlds now in a frantic attempt to regulate energy flow and keep the Rift from collapsing entirely.
But Alpha Trion knew that there was a good chance the barriers would one day fall anyway. The CyberCalibur had been split between the two worlds, and the pieces were calling to each other. The weaker the walls between realities became, the stronger the pull of the sword would be until all the pieces had been united on both sides of the Rift in one, central, breaking point. If that happened, it was entirely possible that the two universal streams might never be able to extricate themselves from each other, causing unheard of chaos yet creating something new.
Something stirred behind him, and the old Prime blinked in surprise. Turning, he faced the tank where he'd been keeping the Primax humans, steadily feeding them the memories of their counterparts for when he returned them to their universe - or in case he had to transplant them to Uneind to keep the balance, as was looking increasingly necessary.
It was the smallest one, eyes wide open and staring through the solution he drifted in with an expression of muted horror.
"Oh dear, oh dear," Trion muttered, bustling over. "You, my little friend, are not supposed to be awake!" He crouched next to the tank and tilted his helm. "What's woken you?"
One tiny hand brushed the clear barrier and Trion clearly heard the child's plaintive voice in his thoughts. "I want to go home!"
"And you will, little one," Alpha Trion tried to reassure him, "I am simply uncertain as to which home that will be just yet. All depends on the state of the barriers. If the necessary angolmois and radiation does not build up in Primax 498.015 Alpha in order to expel the foreign bodies and return them to Uneind 911.05 Alpha, I shall have to transplant- well, we'll see." He stood and waved a hand over the tank. "Now, go back to sleep, little one. There is nothing in the Rift that will interest you."
He turned away and sighed. He could have used the presence of Vector Prime, his brother here. But Primus only knew were Vector was these days. He could almost allow himself to feel a touch of bitterness about being left to shepherd the Rift alone, but whatever his fellow Prime Singularities were doing, he was sure it was important.
"Now then," Trion murmured, focusing on the swollen, porous material of the Rift, "Hold together just a bit longer, won't you? It is important, after all."