Chapter 7
December 16th
Sunstreaker rubbed his left optic with the back of his hand as he punched a few digits on the security panel. He noticed Perceptor walking with Sky Fire having what looked to be an esoteric conversation and something he wanted nothing to do with. He quickly ducked through the doors and stood in corridor that led to his living quarters. As usual, the hallway was completely black, since it was only the twins who kept their rooms here. Magnus had made some comment in a meeting once about how much of a waste it was, and that mechs had to move on, this was a war, there was losses, and empty rooms couldn't stay empty for long. Well, that's what Jazz had told him, since neither of the twins had been at the meeting.
He was about ten metres from the doors when he was aware of someone behind him. He turned quickly, aiming his rifle at the new comer, thinking it was one of the Scientists who might have followed for some reason – hah, he'd freak those geek bots out something fierce. The corridor was empty. He shrugged and subspaced his rifle, turned and headed towards his quarters. He was aware again of a presence, looking over his shoulder, he saw no one there. He really needed to get his sensors looked at. Footsteps suddenly echoed behind him.
"Alright Mirage, you prick, stop Slaggin about!"
Wait… was Mirage still alive? He hadn't seen him in some months, not since the attack, he'd heard word that he'd been shot by Megatron but had he been repaired? Regardless, the twin wasn't sure, but what he was sure of was someone standing in front of him, someone now walking towards him. The footsteps were so obvious in sound, pace and pitch that they could be nothing else but footsteps. The steps stopped in front of him and so close was whoever, that the twin could feel the warm oral exhaust, or "breath" to use a human word. It stunk like… well… rust. It was the most horrid, foulest odour he'd smelt in his entire existence. The thousands of rusting shells on used battle fields came close but not close enough. A cold chill passed over his frame. He took a step back.
"SLAG OFF!"
He swung his fist around and passed through the area where Mirage, if it was Mirage, would be standing. The force of his movement, the fact there was nothing to connect too caused him to loose balance, his legs twisted under him and he spun slightly to his left and then crashed to the ground. He looked up.
"What…?"
Mirage never had that ability.
Hound, well, Hound could make a hologram but holograms couldn't breath.
Even Nightbird didn't have that skill.
Was being there and yet not being there even a skill that a mech or femme could possess?
Maybe a new Decepticon weapon? But they were so poor for troops and fuel that whatever leadership remained in place was not in any position to A-OK research for something that energon exhausting.
What if it was some human weapon? Those creatures, while so inferior to him and his ilk, could come up with some doses if need be. He was certainly no fan of a species that continually shed its skin on his upholstery but they could be quite clever in the weapons game. Savages.
He was about to start contemplating upon the possibility of another species when he felt himself lifted from the ground and suddenly being thrown back. He roared in absolute surprise, the lights in the hall flicked on and off quickly and then he collided with the wall at the end of the passageway. He was knocked into statis.
--
"Bro? BRO? Wake up bro".
He was aware of his brother's voice.
His optics came online and opened.
Sideswipe and First Aid were standing on opposite sides.
Perceptor stood at the foot of the berth looking over a digipad and obviously intrigued with the information contained therein.
"Sunstreaker, can you hear me?"
"Of course I can hear your whinny cuddy prissy little lovely voice, First Aid".
He growled, he was rather sore and none to impressed that some new weapon of some description had gotten the best of him.
"Oh… um… good… I'll just go over here… and get… something".
The young doctor, obviously put out by the sudden tirade pulled back and towards one of the benches that sat against the wall.
"It is distinguishable from scans implemented on your CPU, Sunstreaker that have alarmed us to several deviations concurring with a state of oversensitivity. A simple recalibration of which, should resolve this significantly".
"Whah?"
The golden twin asked, raising an optic ridge.
"Don't look at me".
Sideswipe shrugged.
"He's saying scans of your CPU show your sensors are running at a higher level then they should be".
"Oh, well, that explains everything, when can you fix it?"
"What?"
Sideswipe asked, looking at his brother. The scientist raising an optic ridge and First Aid returning from the bench. The three mechs looked at him.
"What explains everything?"
First Aid inquired, raising the pitch of his voice to relay a rather concerned suspicion.
Sunstreaker looked at them like they were losing their marbles.
"Wheeljack, can you explain to these guys what you just said to me?"
Perceptor took a step back, the look on his face plates a look he'd never used, a look no one had ever seen. It was one of complete and utter astonishment with a hint of uncertainty.
"Bro…"
"What?"
"You… you feeling okay? Your memory banks okay".
"What the pit are you talking about, Sides?"
"Sunstreaker, Wheeljack went offline several months ago at the great battle".
It was probably the least esoteric statement Perceptor had ever uttered.
Sunstreaker looked at them, his optics flickered offline for the briefest of cycles.
"No… that can't be right, he's right here, look… see!"
The vainer of the twins pointed to an empty space of the repair bay.
"Wheeljack! Say something, you crazy bastard!"
"Bro, Wheeljack's not here, he's dead, he's in the crypt".
Sideswipe's voice was quiet, sad, subdued and soaked with concern for his brother's mental state.
"Sideswipe, why are you saying these things? You're my bro, why the slag aren't you backing me up…
The red brother took a step back, guilt riddling his face.
"Its alright, Sunstreaker, no one is out to get you, we just want to help you".
First Aid said softly.
"YOU'RE SO FULL OF SLAG!"
Sunstreaker jumped up into a crouching position on the berth and reached down and grabbed the young doctor, throwing him towards the maroon scientist who was unable to move fast enough to escape the mech projectile, both crumpled to the floor, rolling and skidding with the memento.
"Sunstreaker! What are you doing?"
Sideswipe cried out, his brother turning to face him.
"You're as guilty as they are! You're in this with them, aren't you? You were always jealous of me, you were always annoyed that I was the better looking protoform, the toughest, the bravest, you're just a weak little coward, no, no, not just weak and cowardly, but ugly. Ugly to your spark!!"
The angered twin jumped down and started running at the door, jumping easily over the two splayed mechs who were attempting to get up. The twin gave Perceptor a good swift kick to the cranium casing and was then out through the doors.
"SUNSTREAKER!!"
Sideswipe ran after his twin.