Duty and Deceit

Chapter 41

Tension

Disclaimer: By the way, for any of my amazing readers who were under the impression that I am far awesomer than I am - for which I am immensely grateful - I do not, in fact, own Transformers or the Transformers: Prime series. I do however, own my OCs and sub-plots.

No one ever came down this way, not usually. She continued silently along the dark, musty, abandoned halls, her practiced pede-falls making no sound at all in the total quiet. The two-wheeler rolled a shoulder wheel slowly in its guard, taking in a deep, shuddery vent of exhaustion.

The past few orns had been long and tasking; the whole Decepticon army - whoever wasn't scouting or defending the front lines - had been set to the huge task of repairing the damage caused by the Autobot attack on HQ. Sky, Dread, Thunderblast, Nightracer, and Makeshift were all out on missions, so in her off-time - all three groons of it - she figured she'd go see Shadowlight.

It had been a little while since her last visit.

Knocking gently on the jet's locked door, she put in the code and opened it slowly, making her pede-falls loud enough to make sure her presence was known. When the silver jet didn't rush out to greet her in a flurry of excitement, the spy frowned. That was a bit odd. Maybe the other femme was in recharge?

"Shadow?" She called out, looking around the well-lit, well decorated little apartment that she'd helped renovate the quarantine cell into. "Hello?"

All the sofas and chairs were wrapped in a clear-ish crinkly plastic, the table in the center had been cleared and dismantled, and the vid-screen and holovid collection had been moved somewhere. The Energon cabinets were all empty and the dispenser flickered forlornly in its little corner.

The spy scowled, her anxiety growing by the nano. "Shadowlight! It's Terabyte, I've brought you a present... I'm sorry I couldn't get back here before now... You aren't mad are you? Shadow?"

Her motions were rushed and frantic at this point, and the little two-wheeler was almost running through the apartment, looking behind all of the storage-wrapped furniture she'd slowly brought in on her tight budget. "Shadow? Shadowlight!"

She pulled out her hard-link connector, plugging it into the computer directly, wincing at the spike of pain that went through her as she did so. Scanning through the whole entire database for any files mentioning quarantine transfers, Shadowlight, asylums, prisoner manifests, and any other orders from high command that could possibly give her a clue to the jet's location... No results found.

Her scowl deepened further at the empty results. Trying again, the spy broadened the search to anything at all regarding Shadowlight, from the beginning of the War to date.

The computer binged loudly, reading: "Identity 'Shadowlight' not found. No records pertaining to this name. Would you like to try again? Yes/No."

Transforming angrily, the femme shot off out the door and began making her way directly to Soundwave's office, her tires squealing on the obsidian floors, leaving the smell of burnt rubber behind her. All records that Shadowlight even existed were wiped completely from the database. She didn't care how much damage the Autobots had done to the systems, only a skilled person with that intent could have done that.

In a matter of moments, the small Protihexian two-wheeler burst through her commander's office doors, transforming before she'd even stopped. Landing gracefully on her pedes, she slammed her hands down on the commander's desk, glaring at him with furious gold optics.

"Where is Shadowlight?" She roared, "What have you done with her?!"

The stoic purple head of the Communications and Intelligence department just watched her calmly with the same unchangingly blank visor. Megatron's voice boomed out of him impatiently, "Calm yourself, soldier."

She fumed behind her mask, too worked up to keep her normal formalities in consideration. "No! Don't tell me to 'calm myself'! This is my friend we're talking about, whose very existence has been purged from the system! What have you done with her?!"

Makeshift's voice chuckled at her, "Chill, kid... That's none of your business."

"Where is she?" The femme yelled, her suspicions only growing. This wasn't how the Decepticons worked; they didn't just tuck people away and erase them. There must have been some sort of mistake. "Where did you take her? Tell me!"

Soundwave didn't say another word. He didn't have to. She could see it, deep in the abyss of his empty face.

The two-wheeler straightened, her firm grip over herself returning as her frame pulled back stiffly to attention, her armor flaring just past relaxed. Her tone once again inflectionless, the spy slid her glossa over her denta slowly, still fuming within, "Sir... I am never going to see Shadowlight again, am I."

It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be.

Previously on Duty and Deceit...

"Now see here, young lady," The way she cringed away from him left a sick feeling in the bottom of his tanks, making his voice soften more than he'd let it in a long time, "You are brilliant little femme, Terabyte, and if anyone tries to say otherwise, so help me I'll turn them into a garbage disposal."

"Optimus... If one of you comes back wounded... well, our reserves are nearly depleted."

"Jetfire, scientist... I am here to guard the Energon resources of this planet until such time as the Cybertronian people require it."

"Trust me on this. Please... Just, trust me."

"Says the femme with a fusion cannon levelled on my spark: the same femme who blew my leg off last time she pointed a gun at me. Sure, I trust you." Cliffjumper snarled, "I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you, you'll just keep blowing your chances."

Jetfire cleared his vents loudly to gain all their attention, "Now that that's dealt with, shall we?"

Two Hours Ago, Autobot Base

The green fighter jet watched the team disappear through the ground bridge one by one before it closed down with a crackle of energy. He cocked an optic ridge, muttering, "I will just, uh, keep the medic safe then."

The Prime hadn't left him with any orders before they all headed out to investigate some moving Energon signal. In fact, the Autobot leader hadn't even acknowledged that he was standing there.

"Sometimes I wish I could do more." Ratchet sighed, turning back towards the med-bay without even glancing at him.

Shrugging his spiked shoulders, Skyquake followed the medic to his corner of the base. Until the grouchy med-bot decided to skip protocols of not leaving the defector to his own devices and shoo him off, he would just tag along. Maybe the medic had something he could help with. It wasn't like their training area was any use after he'd been through it earlier.

He watched with curiousity as the red and white mech's optics narrowed. In his hands was a syringe of some weird green medical goo. As he gazed on, Ratchet stabbed the syringe into his arm, seeming as he did so to notice the jet for the first time. Recognition and mild worry flashed across his face-plates for a nano.

Ratchet's green-blue optics dimmed out and the medic swayed slightly before crashing to the floor.

"Well. That worked well." Skyquake commented drily, picking up a jar of the green goo in each hand, tilting it around experimentally.

He tucked both canisters into his subspace casually, noting that there were still five other canisters. He'd watch the synth-En'd medic very carefully... If all went well for the mech, then these would come in handy.

A tiny, spiky-helmed human child walked in and waved up at him warily. "Hey, Skyquake." The boy caught sight of the passed out medic and looked up at him with worried and suspicious eyes. "W-what happened to Ratchet?"

"He shot himself with the green stuff and passed out about half a klick afterwards..." The jet flicked a wing, glancing between the boy and the medic. "I didn't knock him out, if that's what you're thinking."

The boy clambered onto Ratchet's chest and peered into the medic's face, shoving his little red glasses up. "Ratchet? Wake up!"

Skyquake watched with his helm cocked slightly before reaching forward and prodding the medic with his foot. The red and white mech groaned, opening his turqoise optics slowly and sitting up after setting Raf on the floor.

"How is it that such small beings can be so loud?" Ratchet grumbled quietly.

The boy grinned sheepishly and shifted his laptop in his arms. "Are you hurt? Skyquake said you fell."

"I'm fine." The medic muttered, optics dimming as he ran an internal assessment and fed it into the medical device installed in his forearm. He sounded pleased as he continued, "I'm more than fine..."

Skyquake gazed on warily as the gruff mech actually smiled, and laughed, sounding more excited than the jet had thought possible. "Ah! Energy efficiency's up 30%... Motor functions optimal? Ha ha! Any word from the others?"

"What, am I your secretary now?" The jet shrugged his wings, continuing to monitor the medic. So far, he was very impressed. The synth-En was apparently super-fuel, heightening all functions with just a small dose.

Ratchet growled at him and headed over to the terminal right as the Prime commed in, /Ratchet, lock on to Arcee's coordinates and prepare an emergency ground bridge./

Skyquake followed the medic in to the main room, his wings tingling as he caught sight of the exit. He needed to fly again. These Autobots didn't understand how important it was that he fly regularly.

/I'm locked on./ Ratchet said after a little bit. /Arcee, decelerate and prepare to return to base./

/Save it, Ratchet./ The Autobot two-wheeler replied, her tone focused. /I'm too close./

/Don't be a fool!/ The medic shouted, slamming his fist into the terminal as the femme shut off her comm-link. "Ugh!" Several klicks later the terminal binged and popped a warning that Skyquake didn't care about enough to read. "She's hurt."

A green portal swirled to life in the ground bridge ring and Ratchet was already running towards it, shouting, "Skyquake, man the ground bridge!"

And then he was left alone with the human boy. The base suddenly grew very, very still, so silent that the nearly inaudible whir of his systems seemed deafening. It was rather uncharacteristic of the medic to leave an ex-Decepticon frontliner alone in their base with a defenseless human. Not to mention that the terminal was left completely open, with all of the Autobots' secrets in his servos.

Though really, he had no reason to leave the Autobot base - nowhere to go if he did - nor did he have any desire to harm the human sparkling. However, manning the ground bridge would prove troublesome, as he was unfamiliar with the human/Cybertronian hybrid of technology.

"Boy..." Skyquake rumbled slowly, reluctant to request a fleshling's help.

The spiky-haired human scrambled back into his line of sight, his posture suggesting a great amount of apprehension. "Y-yeah?"

To help alleviate the boy's fear, Skyquake crouched down, pressing his armor tight against his frame to make himself appear smaller. "Do you know how to operate the ground bridge controls?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Should the Autobots require a ground bridge, may I count on you to assist them?" He asked gently, keeping his posture unimposing.

"Y-yeah..." The boy repeated again, clutching his laptop like a life-line.

Skyquake sighed deeply, the action ruffling Raf's hair and clothes. Human children always had feared him. He'd lived on this planet for seven vorns, waking for a half-orn every quartex. In that time, a mech would grow bored. He would explore the continent on which he was stationed, occasionally running into a human settlement.

The humans all feared him, though he never gave them a reason to. He only ever observed, every now and then having to rescue some fool trying to fly across the canyons on wings of twigs and rags.

He truly was trying to adopt the Autobot ways. For Terabyte. But all he had to go by was his honor. Honor didn't tell him how to be nice to people, or trust people without reason. Nor did honor tell him how to make a terrified organic creature who wasn't even a quarter of his height any less terrified.

"Rafael." Skyquake said quietly. "I may have been a Decepticon - I realize that you fear me, and with good reason - but I swear to you: you will come to no harm by my hand."

"S-sorry..." Raf laughed nervously, "I'm not really scared of you... you're just really, really scary looking..."

At this, he chuckled, his ruby optics gentle. "That was the point."

Soon enough, the call came in for a ground bridge, and the boy flipped it on with ease - as he had said he could. Team Prime came in loud and cheerful, but Skyquake noticed instantly that Terabyte was not with them. Cliffjumper and the scout were also absent.

Optimus Prime pulled up in his alt-mode, leaving his trailer - packed full of Energon - to the side of the main chamber. Everyone seemed to flock around Ratchet in a flurry of excitement, telling wild tales of the medic's sudden super-strength.

Ignoring the others for the moment, Skyquake approached the Prime, his optics hard, though his tone remained vaguely respectful, "Where is the remainder of your party, Prime?"

"They will return in due time. Terabyte wished to investigate a set of coordinates."

He nodded in acknowledgement and joined the small crowd around Ratchet, who was tossing jugs of synth-En to each mech. Ratchet grinned, "Just a little something I call synth-En."

Skyquake noticed a disapproving look come across the Prime's face as the mech's engine hummed with displeasure. Arcee leaned casually on one pede, hand on her hip. "From the data Bulkhead transcribed? I thought the formula was-"

"Incomplete?" The medic finished the femme's sentence with a smug chuckle, "Not anymore."

Beside the olive jet, Bulkhead asked, "So Ratch' makes a better tough guy than I do a smart guy?"

The Prime spoke sternly, "Ratchet, I question the wisdom of using yourself as a test subject."

The two-wheeler femme huffed in disbelief, gesturing with her hands to emphasize her point. "Optimus, you didn't see Ratchet out there. He was in overdrive... We should all try this stuff!"

Skyquake snorted, flicking his wing - which was still stiff from where Airachnid had shoved her claws between his wing-cons last battle. "Or give the Hatchet more so we can take a vacation."

"Skyquake, I would prefer that you treat your superiors with due respect." The regal Autobot leader reprimanded gently, "Ratchet, I agree that the initial results are promising, however, I recommend that further testing be confined to machines, not fellow Autobots." Putting a hand on the medic's shoulder, Optimus' lip-plates lifted into a tiny smile. "Outnumbered though we may be, old friend, we need a warrior in the laboratory more than we need another on the field."

Present Time

Calling in a ground bridge, Terabyte watched on with blank processors as the green and blue and purple portal swirled in front of them. She waved a hand at Bumblebee to escort the white jet through, then gestured for Cliffjumper to follow, feeling her frame sway precariously.

Warning: Fuel levels at 2%. Commencing stasis lock in 10...

The red mech watched her with concerned optics, ignoring her order for him to return to base. She wobbled again, opening her mouth to speak weakly, her vocalizer catching on the words, "Cliffjumper, pr-pr-proceed to baaase."

9...

8...

"Terabyte, what's wrong? Your balancing systems seem skewed." Cliffjumper said quietly, touching her elbow gently.

7...

"Why shhhhould you care? I'm just a tr-r-r-traitor anyway..." She chuckled at the irony of the situation. He tears her hope to shreds, stomps all over it, then seems genuinely concerned for her well-being afterwards. She swayed again, this time falling to her black, diamond-shaped knee-plates with a loud clang.

6...

5...

Cliffjumper bent down and scooped her up into his arms gently, his sky blue optics filled with worry and... regret? So soon? The femme snorted derisively. Doubtful.

4...

Her optics offlined as the mech ran through the ground-bridge and straight to the med-bay, shouting for Ratchet to get his act together and figure out what was wrong with her. The mech couldn't even tell the signs of a basic fuel-deprivation shut-down? No wonder the Decepticons were winning.

3...

2...

Right before her whole system shut down completely, Terabyte felt a sharp prick in her arm, noting Skyquake's yelling in the background.

1... Commencing stasis lock...

She was so tired too... A nice, long nap would be amazing...

"What did you do to her?!" Skyquake roared at him, the huge jet towering over him, glowering down at him with burning ruby optics.

He went stiff momentarily as the ex-Con grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground with ease, smashing his helm against the wall and pinning him there. Cliffjumper grinned in spite of himself, "Well, is it just me or does this happen a lot? You seem to have an affinity for the dramatic slamming-your-enemies-into-walls thing."

The jet snarled angrily and threw him across the room into another wall, where his helm cracked loudly against the concrete. He wheezed quietly as the air was knocked completely from his vents, forcing his systems to reboot. His back erupted in pain, followed by some errors telling him about a couple ruptured struts.

Maybe taunting the guy slightly bigger than the Prime and significantly more weaponed... Not the smartest of plans, in hindsight. Now Optimus was yelling at Skyquake to stand down, and the jet was arguing and yelling back. He could hear the mech's stressed systems from here.

Cliffjumper got back to his pedes shakily, ignoring the stream of new errors that the motion resulted in, gasping as the relatively bearable pain tripled in potency. He sauntered up to the Prime and Skyquake, not listening to their words as their voices continued to rise. Huh, Prime normally didn't lose his cool like this. He swiped his hand across his fore-helm, noting the life-En that now drenched his hand.

He didn't particularly care that he'd probably end up passing out soon. He probably deserved it for what he'd said to Terabyte. They all knew that she was blaming herself far too harshly already; it was obvious that she felt absolutely wretched about it, and likely never would forgive herself. He knew that.

But that hadn't stopped him.

She'd looked so devastated. When she'd spoken next... He'd never heard a voice more broken, more crushed. Not in all his vorns of working interrogation and prisoner control. He'd worked so hard since she got here to befriend her and make her feel welcome and cared about. And in less than a klick, he'd broken her.

Now he could only hope he could fix it.

He grinned at the two yelling mechs, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Mechs, mechs... Let's all just calm down and look at this objectively."

"Cliffjumper, you are leaking out and you have several broken struts. This is not a light matter: I will not allow such abusive behavior to continue among my own team." Optimus replied, though his tone had returned to the usual, calm, stern reprimand. "I cannot condone Skyquake putting my mechs in sickbay every time something unpleasant happens to Terabyte."

Across from the Prime, Skyquake growled, "I wouldn't have to put your mechs in sickbay if they didn't keep losing her, or bringing her back leaking or unconscious!"

"Terabyte is more than capable of taking care of herself, and you can't expect us to focus all our attention on her when we have more important things to deal with on the battlefield!" Cliffjumper shouted back indignantly, his plan of calming them down forgotten.

Optimus, still thinking about his leaking soldier, said, "Skyquake, this is a war! A war that Terabyte chose to fight in! As a high-ranking commander in the Decepticon army, you of all mechs should know that there are injuries and casualties in war. We all put each other's lives in high regard, but we cannot set aside all of our resources to make sure that one femme does not get harmed."

"She wouldn't even be in this war if it weren't for you and your Autobots!" Skyquake roared. Cliffjumper swayed on his pedes, taking a wary step backwards as the green jet slammed an accusing servo into the Prime's chest. "You strut about all high and mighty, looking down at us moral inferiors while you send squadrons to massacre Decepticons and neutrals alike! Have you forgotten the deeds of the Primes that came before you?"

The red warrior snarled at this, at the accusations the jet was making. "Autobots weren't responsible for the fall of Protihex and you know it! How dare you-"

"Enough!"

The three arguing mechs instantly went silent, turning to stare at the medic, whose roar still echoed through the base. Optimus turned his gaze to the floor, looking ashamed of himself, while Skyquake simply crossed his arms and fumed. Cliffjumper bit his glossa and nearly lost his balance again, putting his arms out to his sides to steady himself.

"Before you all decide to kill each other over the moral/ethical stands you have in regards to protecting your team-mates, did any of you bother to listen to my report on what actually happened?" Ratchet scolded, causing each of them to wilt at the rebuke, "No. If you had, you wouldn't be about to scrap each other, because you would know that there is no one to blame for Terabyte's collapse but herself."

"What do you mean?" Skyquake demanded, his optics narrowing as he glared mutinously at the medic.

Ratchet chuckled, leaning up against the wall, crossing his ankles casually, "What I mean, is she went into stasis from fuel deprivation, because someone," He paused to glare pointedly at the Prime, "Failed to tell her that the base-wide order for everyone to take half rations to stretch our diminished resources, did not apply to her since she was already taking half rations. So she's been running at a quarter tank for two orns."

Cliffjumper's optics widened slightly as realization hit him. She'd only been taking a quarter ration, and she hadn't refuelled before their mission. Which meant that by the time she pulled her cannon on him, she would have only been at about ten percent. And everyone knows that weapons systems are among the first things to go offline when one's frame goes into power-saving mode.

Trust me on this. Please... Just, trust me.

Not only had he completely and totally shattered the little femme, he'd done it when she had no intentions whatsoever of betraying them. By pulling his guns on the sleeper - who was now with Bee in the brig - he had been compromising their mission to find the sleeper and attempt to win him over. Terabyte was only threatening him - with a mini-cannon that she couldn't even fire - to get him to stand down, because he wouldn't have otherwise and she needed to prove to the sleeper that they truly did mean him no harm.

He grinned and pulled on a cheery tone, "So, you juiced 'er up and she'll be good to go in jiffy! Right, Doc?"

Rather than scolding him, like he'd expected, Ratchet just stretched his neck in a bored manner, "Sounds about right, kid."

The red mech's smile stretched a little wider. He could get used to this version of the doc-bot. Really, why hadn't they invented synth-En earlier? It was a huge mood improver.

Five Days Later

Terabyte took in a deep, shuddery draft of air and sat up slowly, crossing her pedes on the berth and looking around her with some confusion. She'd expected she'd be in the medical bay with Ratchet standing over her, checking her vitals and grumbling about her taking up his med-bay. Instead, she awoke to find herself in her quarters, with Arcee on the bed across from her, reading on a datapad as usual.

She yawned and stretched in a very human-like action, attesting to the time she spent with the humans. Her armor flared out to its usual defensive position, and her finials spun and flicked around, habitually scanning her surroundings.

"Good morning." Arcee commented, not looking up from her datapad. "Feeling better?"

Emergency stasis lock released. Medical aid obtained. Fuel tanks at 100%.

Terabyte's engine choked, recovered, and then whined, her expression growing increasingly concerned, "I-I, my- not s-"

Now the other femme put her datapad down and walked over to her, sitting down on the berth beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder wheel-well, "What's up?"

"My tanks are at 100% capacity." She said worriedly, Cliffjumper's words echoing angrily in her mind. Sure, I trust you. I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you; you'll just keep blowing your chances. "I'm supposed to be at a quarter rations..."

Arcee looked downright furious, making her press her armor down to her frame and cringe away, not entirely voluntarily. The femme noticed and rubbed her upper back soothingly, making Terabyte relax a tiny bit, "Your full ration is about half of a normal ration already, and you're taking half of that, and you expected us to require you to take half of even that?"

She didn't say anything for a little bit, then spoke quietly, "Will I be punished?"

"For what?"

"Not following the conditions of my parole, pulling a gun on a fellow officer over whom I was given charge, performing potentially traitorous actions, not conforming to protocol regarding first contact with ancient technology and/or persons, failing to complete the assigned mission, failing to follow orders regarding use of the English language, failing to remain conscious while in a leadership position on field-"

"Okay, okay, stop." Arcee cut her off, smiling, "Half of those offenses aren't even worth a reprimand, half weren't even your fault and you can't be held accountable, and half will need discussed and were probably done with good, explainable intentions. No, you're not going to be punished."

Terabyte shuddered, relieved, but still dubious. I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you. "That's not possible. You cannot have three halves."

"That's beside the point." Arcee replied, a tinge impatient.

"A-are you sure? I-I... I threatened to shoot Cliff... And he-" She paused for a minute to find a good way to word this, without getting the mech in trouble, "He firmly objected..."

"What did he say to you?" The older pink and blue femme demanded, moving so she could look into Terabyte's scarlet optics.

"Nothing worth worrying over." She averted her gaze, tilting her helm away from the other femme's intent optics. "Could we go to the training room?"

The Autobot second in command watched her with suspicion for a little bit, then nodded. Given time, the femme would tell her when she felt like it. Arcee got up and opened the unlocked door to her quarters, tilting her helm to let Terabyte know she could come. She sighed gently as the femme passed, noting that her armor was flared again.

She wasn't getting soft with the femme. She just thought that she really did want to change, and that desire deserved a second chance. Or three, or four. As for threatening to shoot Cliff... she'd done the same often enough, and the mech probably deserved it. Arcee followed beside Terabyte in a companionable silence, each lost in their thoughts.

She was just a kid; she needed to be shown that she was loved and welcome here.

Normally the pink and blue femme would say that she felt an attachment to the ex-Con not only because of their similarities, but because she understood what the little femme was going through. Except the truth of the matter was that she didn't understand what the femme was going through. None of them did, really.

"Terabyte-"

Arcee had hardly opened her mouth, when Skyquake came crashing through the arena wall to slam down against the other side of the hall in a pile of dust and rubble right in front of the two femmes.

Soon Bumblebee and Cliffjumper had both come over to investigate the source of the crash, just in time to watch Bulkhead stumble backwards through the hole in the wall to fall on his rear beside Skyquake with a thud.

As Ratchet followed the two floored mechs with a smug expression on his face, the group gathered around gaped at him in disbelief. He laughed, dusting off his hands, "Hoo-ah!"

She glanced between Bulkhead, Cliffjumper, and Ratchet, making optic contact with Terabyte for a brief moment. "What was that?"

Skyquake just groaned, getting up and dusting off before extending a hand to Bulkhead, who just glared at him and got up on his own.

"You have competition, Bulk." Arcee commented with a smirk.

"I'm a bit stronger than I used to be." Ratchet said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Also a bit faster." Throwing a couple mock boxing punches in Cliff and Bee's direction, the medic laughed, "Think you can take me, muscle cars?"

Both mechs shook their helms rapidly, Bumblebee letting out an instant whirl of negative bleeps. Ratchet just laughed again and set off towards the wash-racks, winking at the femmes as he passed, "How's it hummin', ladies?"

Arcee blinked a couple times, watching the medic's quickly retreating back, turning just in time to see the perfect expression of horrified disgust on what little of Terabyte's face that was visible. She also noted the protective way Skyquake had positioned himself in front of the little femme.

"Did... Did he just...?" Terabyte trailed off, one optic ridge raised slightly.

"Stronger, faster..." Bulkhead muttered, leaving his sentence hanging. Cliffjumper grinned widely, cocking an optic ridge, "Studlier."

She smiled up at Skyquake behind her midnight navy mask as the others all began to disperse, just leaving the rubble piled up where the medic had thrown Skyquake through the wall. He looked down at her with mildly concerned optics. "Good morning... How you feeling?"

Terabyte shrugged noncomittally, fiddling with the decorations on her mini-cannon. You just keep blowing your chances. She looked away so Skyquake wouldn't see the pain in her optics. "I'm fine."

"Tera..." As if Skyquake would be fooled. He reached out and grabbed her chin gently in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her helm up so she was looking up at him. "I didn't mean physically."

The little femme really did want to tell him. Normally she wouldn't even hesitate to share her troubled thoughts with the mech; he always listened so well. But if she did tell him, he'd go hurt Cliffjumper, and then he'd get in trouble with the Prime, and she didn't want either of those things to happen.

She sighed, smiling a despondent little smile. "Really, Sky, I'm fine. I just ran a bit low on fuel. If anything's wrong, I'll let you know, okay? Promise."

Cradling her helm in his hand for a moment, the huge jet nodded slowly, looking a little hurt that she didn't tell him what was wrong. His wings flicked downwards slightly, "You don't trust me not to get mad."

"Sky..." Terabyte leaned into him, her arms still wrapped around her middle, feeling the steady thrum of her friend's strong spark, the sound soothing her. She closed her optics, her voice quiet, "I trust you with my life..."

His engine rumbled dissatisfactorily, "But?"

"I..." She frowned slightly, taking a moment to just relish his presence. To hear the gentle hum of his spark, each pulse reassuring her that he really was alive.

Though the memories Soundwave had implanted in her mind never happened, she could still feel the anguish of knowing Skyquake was gone forever. It was a feeling she would never forget. A feeling she hoped she'd never, ever have to feel again. The pained void that it left in her still hung in her memory, haunting her nightmares.

Seeming to sense the change in her thoughts, Terabyte felt Skyquake's arms wrap around her. He didn't press for any more answers, but she finally finished anyway, "I just don't want you to hurt him."

Skyquake's engine hummed, "The red hotshot that's over there watching us?"

She pulled away to look in the direction he'd indicated, grabbing hold of Skyquake's hand as she did so. Sure enough, Cliffjumper was leaned up against the wall on the other side of the hole, next to Arcee. His ankles were crossed and he had an odd expression on his face.

Terabyte's engine hitched slightly and she looked away before she could meet his optics, squeezing Skyquake's hand, her armor falling limp. Her finials twitched down to a depressed angle, hearing Cliffjumper's snarling voice ring in her helm, Sure, I trust you. I trust you to keep betraying us...

"... Yeah." She squeaked out quietly.

Cliffjumper, for his part, just shook his helm gently, as if waking himself up, "What's that?"

Trust me on this. Please... Just, trust me. The little femme stared at her pedes, "Nothing, sir. I trust you are fully recovered from the patrol?"

He grinned at the glowering mech beside her, his voice cocky and teasing, "Oh, yes, ma'am. I'm feeling a hundred percent ship-shape and ready to roll! You?"

"I function at a satisfactorily level," She practically whispered. "With your permission, Skyquake and I will be in the training arena if we are required."

The pink and blue femme behind him spoke up casually, "Mind if we join you?"

Straightening and taking a deep vent, Terabyte flared her armor back to its usual, slightly-strained position, forcing herself to regain her composure. Releasing Skyquake's hand, she rolled her helm slowly, listening to her neck struts pop into alignment. She didn't need the Autobots to trust her, or like her. She just needed them to let her be, let her try to atone for all that she'd done for the wrong side.

"Yes." Skyquake spat, his EM field pulsing angrily against her own, tightly monitored field.

"I understand that as paroled defectors, it is your duty to monitor our activities." She consented formally, flaring her field just enough to tell him to back down, "With this understanding, you have our assent."

She and Skyquake stepped over the rubble into the arena, heading straight for a quiet, somewhat-private corner of the arena. Respecting their space, their unofficial guards moved to the opposite side of the room and began their warm-up regime.

Choosing to ignore them, Terabyte turned her back to them and lowered her battle mask. Taking in a deep vent, she started through the first form Skyquake had ever taught her, moving through it without a single error, her motions defined by grace. Smiling at Skyquake, who was mirroring her, they went through several more in perfect, practiced sync.

Grinning slyly, Skyquake started going through motions that were unfamiliar to her, but she just grinned right back, mirroring his perfectly and nearly intuitively. They continued going through various lunges and motions, each one taking turns leading, flawlessly moving in sync with each other, never missing or hesitating.

By their grace, one never would have guessed that seven vorns had passed between training sessions.

Gradually they sped up so that they were twisting and spinning, twirling all around each other in a blurred dance of green and navy, accented with red. Never once did they actually touch as they continued to spin around each other in a deadly dance of flashing blades, thrown punches, and flying kicks.

Time seemed to stop as they both mirrored the other intuitively, all thoughts of their audience lost to them.

Finally Terabyte spun around Skyquake, ducking under his wings in a daring attempt to knock the mech forward on his own weight. He stuck out his pede just at the right moment and tripped her, spinning around on his heel to catch her arms, pulling them behind her and locking a massive arm around her neck in a grand finale to their graceful teamwork.

"You've slowed down." He commented with a smirk, his deep, rumbling voice raining down on her as her vents heaved, her cooling fans running at full speed. "Been the Wave's techie for too long?"

She laughed breathily, "Says the guy who just woke up from a seven-vorn nap... Keeping up with you is copper cookies compared to last time we sparred. At least my moves are still fresh."

"Ohhh, you didn't..." Skyquake gasped in mock horror, releasing his hold and one of her hands, twirling her around like a formal dance, letting her twirl out before letting her go.

He looked like he was about to continue until he saw her mask snap back up. She straightened and nodded respectfully to the two Autobots who had stopped their own training to watch.

Arcee looked at them with her mouth slightly parted, an awed expression on her face, "How did you do that?"

Skyquake cocked an optic ridge and glanced over at the little navy and black femme. "What, the little twirl I just did?"

At their unimpressed expressions, Terabyte giggled quietly, "Sure Sky, they're gaping at the dinky little ballerina twirl you spun me through."

Cliffjumper also snickered, then posed his question, speaking really slowly and loudly with an intent expression, acting like the jet was mentally deficient, making dramatized actions to go along with his words, "No... we are... talk-ing... a-bout... the way... you... were... train-ing... in per-fect... sync... with each-o-ther."

She glared at the red mech, smirking as the older femme elbowed him roughly, glowering at him.

The ex-Con femme looked over at Skyquake for help, "Um... It just happens... Practice?"

"There's way more to it than that." Arcee objected, putting a hand on her hip. "You... flow. It's effortless, fluid, almost like you know what the other's thinking."

"We might as well." The green jet said bluntly, crossing his arms, his wings flicking agitatedly.

The two other Autobots glanced at each other with confused expressions. Terabyte shook her helm, smiling widely behind her midnight navy mask. Pulling back into a ready stance, the little femme waved her hand, gesturing for Cliffjumper to come at her, "We've been training together for quite a while... Predicting each other's next move hardly even takes a nano's thought. Honestly, I haven't trained with anyone besides Sky and battle drones in a long time. Are you up for a round?"

She tilted her helm to the side, cocking an optic ridge in challenge, motioning again. The red mech fell into stance with his lips peeled back in an anticipatory grin, "The real question is are you?"

Terabyte licked her fangs slowly, smirking behind her mask, not even considering losing to be an option. Flicking her servos at the two observing, making them back off, she braced herself for a quick victory, "I suppose we will find out, won't we?"

With that, the little femme leapt up towards the taller mech, feinting a blow towards his helm, falling short then rolling between his pedes at the last moment as he blocked clumsily. Rather than rising from the roll, she flipped on her back and shoved her pedes upwards, kicking him right in the small of his back.

As Cliffjumper fell forward hard on his hands and knees, she sprung up to her pedes to put one black foot on the mech's back in triumph, her frame not even the slightest bit heated. She laughed, forgetting for a moment the last conversation she'd had with the mech, "Maybe a rematch on that one... I do believe you were going easy on me?"

He groaned, accepting her offered hand up once she'd released him. Holding his back like she'd hurt him far more than she'd intended, he smirked wryly, "Yeah... the doc's not gonna be happy if I get landed in med-bay again, less than a week after 'severe spinal trauma'..." Waving a hand at his silver, malformed pede, Cliffjumper grinned, falling back to a ready stance, "Really, you'd think I'd've got it through my thick helm that you're tougher than you look. Rematch, then?"

At his words though, all the playful cheer she'd worked up seemed to drain right out of her, making her face and armor fall slack. The same femme who blew my leg off last time she pointed a gun at me. Her shoulder bolts dropped in shame and she lowered her helm.

"Severe spinal trauma?" She asked weakly, chewing on her lip behind her mask, spinning a shoulder wheel anxiously in its socket.

A light rustle of armor let her know the mech shrugged nonchalantly, as though it were nothing, "Oh, yeah, you were taking a lil' vacation in la-la land. No big, just got in a bit of a tustle with ole big and scowly over there." Cliffjumper paused, probably looking over at the green jet, who could be heard sparring with Arcee, making the red warrior laugh, "Speak of the jet, big and scowly seems to be getting his aft handed to him by my partner."

Her finials twitched slightly, being the only indication that she was still listening to the mech. Her tanks churned inside her and she looked up at Cliffjumper with carefully blank red optics, returning her armor to its normal flare. Sure, I trust you. She heard his bitter voice growl in her helm, stabbing her through to the spark.

"Actually, I am feeling quite exhausted... Our rematch will have to be post-poned, sir. Permission to be escorted back to my quarters?" Terabyte stated, her voice sounding empty and mechanical even to her.

Cliffjumper however, didn't seem to notice. He beamed at her, his optics twinkling, "Oh, I see how you are: wimping out on a fair rematch. Think I'll beat you if I'm trying?" Not waiting for her to reply, he just chuckled and hollered over at Arcee, "Cee! Mind finishing pounding Jetbrain after taking TB to her berth?"

The older femme smirked, landing lightly on her pedes after punching Skyquake in the gut one last time, resting a hand on her hip, "Sure. What makes you unable to?"

He shrugged again, teasing, "Meh, you know, this and that... I'm having a mid-life crisis."

Once the two femmes had left the room, Cliffjumper sighed deeply, his back aching from where Terabyte had unknowingly agitated his still-recovering injuries. The very thought of the little femme tied his internals in a knot of guilt. His sharp words were very plainly still plaguing the femme, who'd worked untiringly to gain their trust and approval, only to be crushed in a single sentence from his own mouth.

The way she seemed to break all over again every time she caught his optic sickened him. And he deserved every bit of the guilt he felt. But at the same time, he didn't know how to remedy the wounds he'd created. He couldn't very well just walk up to her, like, I'm so sorry I tore your every hope of redemption into a million pieces and then saw fit to rub it in your face afterwards. We can still be friends like nothing happened, right?

He let out a derisive snort, earning him an odd look from Skyquake. The odd look almost immediately contorted into a glare. The non-existent conversation continued to play on in his helm, Oh, and by the way, Short Stuff, could ya tell your boyfriend to stop trying to murder me at the slightest provocation? Kinda inconsiderate of him.

"I require refuelling." Skyquake declared, his scowl deepening as he very reluctantly had to ask for the red warrior's help. Apparently he decided to simply demand, "You will come with me."

Cliffjumper cocked an optic ridge, silencing the internal trial in his helm. He'd let her get herself back together again, then he would apologize and it would all sort itself out without his interference to make matters worse. Bowing dramatically, he gestured for the jet to lead the way to the mess room, "Your wish is my command, Lord Jetbrain, your great Malevolence."

The mech just scowled, leading the way. His wings were pulled up and back in what Cliffjumper was beginning to recognize as an expression of acute annoyance.

When they got to the mess hall, it was empty. The red mech flung himself down on one of the steel benches leaning his elbows up on the table. "Serve me up, lunch-mech. I'll have the best we've got... which is probably stale medical grade Energon..."

He hadn't even finished speaking when the green jet sat down across the table from him, empty-handed. Cliffjumper opened his mouth to object to the lack of Energon, when the mech reached into subspace and pulled two glowing green canisters of the experimental synthetic Energon, thumping them down on the table and sliding one over to him.

"Prime said-" He started suspiciously.

"You asked for the best we have." Skyquake interrupted with a flick of an optic ridge, opening his own can of synth-En, making it hiss as the pressure released. "Prime didn't see the medic throw two of the biggest war-mechs on his team through a wall without his fans even kicking on."

Cliffjumper shrugged, inclining his helm in acknowledgement of that fact, popping the lid off his canister also. "We've got another mission scheduled for a groon from now..."

"And I'm in the mood to level the playing field." Skyquake's lips pulled up in a sneer as he raised the synth-En in an unspoken toast, downing the canister in a single gulp.

He looked down at his own portion of synth-En, weighing his options. It couldn't hurt anything, after all, the doc-bot was fine. Cliffjumper drank the last of his synth-En, swishing it around in his mouth. Had a weird, bitter, burning taste, reminding him vaguely of singed life-En mixed with rust.

"Well, the Doc sure isn't much of a culinary success..." The red mech muttered as he collapsed to join Skyquake in unconsciousness.

He gasped lightly, his optics widening at the massive surge that went through him when the synth-En hit his tanks, forcing a laugh from his vocalizer, feeling his energy levels spike. Letting out another chuckle, Skyquake leapt to his pedes, sending the bench he was on toppling over to slide to the other side of the room.

"Ho... mech!" The red mech across from him just barely kept his voice under a shout as he too jerked back into the land of the processing, "Man, that stuff works!"

Skyquake frowned slightly at the smaller mech, whose sky blue optics had turned a deep emerald, then grinned, flicking a wing at his concern. Apparently they'd been out cold for a while, because according to his chronometer, the Prime would want them to report for the mission in a breem or two.

"Come on, Little Mech... It's time the Decepticons learn their place in this war..."

Cliffjumper looked up at him with a wicked grin, "At our mercies."

AN. Okay, so that was a really cruel cliffie, I know, but it was so much fun to write... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I look forward to hearing from my beloved readers!

Also, the Terabyte/Skyquake ship is now official, so it needs a name! Yay, ship-naming! Unfortunately, I've drawn a blank. So, if my beloved readers would impart their highly-appreciated opinions, I would be very grateful!

(See what I did there? ... Flattery? No, of course not... That would be incredibly unprofessional of me... Lol, but really, I would love to hear your input!)