Duty and Deceit

Chapter 42

Higher

AN. So, this chapter. No spoilers, sweet readers, but I am hoping that the last scene will prompt ship names for TB/Sky! So be thinking about that as you read!

Identify, hoist, shove, drag, dump, and record. Return, repeat. The spy felt sick to her tanks as they continued to clean up after the Autobot siege on HQ. Nearly a quartex had passed since they attacked, and yet the aftermath seemed unaffected by the long orns of labor. Soundwave had ordered her to help with the manual labor, as he had ordered the whole department. Now the stoic department head was running the whole department on his own.

Which left her - banned permanently from active field duty - hefting corpses and rubble from the city. Currently she was working in Victory Square. Victory Square: demolished, littered with grayed frames, and reeking of death and stale life-En.

She crouched down in front of a huge, dead tank; his young, handsome faceplate charred and permanently stilled. This mech was on her team, on that dreadful mission half a vorn ago when Darkshine died. He was a shy one; she remembered snorting at the irony of this poor mech's existence. Quicksand: the shy tank.

Clenching her jaw, the spy catalogued the mech's termination, including images and a rough external medical assessment.

"Strika!" The little Prussian blue two-wheeler called, grabbing the dead mech's hand and attempting to drag the tank to the smelting pit to recycle his parts. Resources were at an all time low, planet-wide. "Fighter-class tank, heavy alloy armor: this one's a bit past my weight-lifting record."

The huge femme didn't even grunt in response, leaving the Protihexian spy to yank on the corpse's inert frame on her own. Her vents heaved, and she looked around the square, not seeing Strika anywhere. Seeing the silhouette of a decent-sized mech coming her way, she stood up and hollered for the mech to come over and help her with moving this mech.

When the bot came into view, her optics narrowed. He growled at her, but grabbed the frame by the shoulders, leaving her to lift the corpse's pedes. The monotone mech snarled, "On three. One... two... three."

She grunted as they pulled up on the tank, lifting it just enough to comfortably carry over to the growing mound of corpses by the smelting pits. The black and white ex-Enforcer purposefully moved faster than she could easily keep up with, leaving her to stumble along as best she could. Just a few klicks before they reached the mound, the little femme tripped over a disembodied limb, making her drop the grayed frame with a yelp as she fell hard on her hands and knees.

Hissing as sharp, shattered glass sliced through the thin preliminary armor on her hands, she vented angrily. Thankfully the thick, black, diamond-shaped knee-guards protected her golden joints from the impact.

"Careful, kid." Barricade sneered mockingly, "Wouldn't want to get your pretty little self damaged now would we?"

She pushed herself lightly to her pedes, straightening and dusting off her hands with her helm held high, flicking a finial back, "Likewise."

They hefted the tank again, and flung it onto the heap with a reverberating clang. She winced as a twisted piece of the frame's armor sliced into her forearm, deep enough to draw life-En. Shrugging, she simply headed back towards Victory Square, adding it to the growing list of repairs she would have to deal with between shifts.

Unfortunately, the ex-Enforcer seemed to get it in his helm to help her out. She cut off an annoyed rumble of her engine, crouching down in front of the next casualty, this one a small-ish Autobot mech. Scanning her database, the spy scowled. Another unknown. Filing it into the list, she picked the mech up with a light groan, hoisting the lifeless husk onto her shoulder and wobbling slightly as she accommodated for the added weight.

"Need some help with this one too, femme-ling?" Barricade asked, his tone scornful. "You're better off as Soundwave's little maid."

Her armor flared out minutely farther as she shifted the Autobot carcass, biting out, "You would do well to respect your superiors, Captain."

The mech laughed, scooping the frame off her shoulders, leering at her over his shoulder as he walked off back to the pits. "You just keep telling yourself you deserve that pretty title your high-up mech-friend weaseled up for you. After all, we've all got dreams, eh?"

Previously on Duty and Deceit...

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.

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

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

"-unlikely to require medical expertise, Ratchet." Optimus pointed out firmly, just as Skyquake and Cliffjumper sauntered in, each looking significantly more self-confident than normal.

Which, considering it was Cliffjumper that he was talking about... Bumblebee whirred softly. The last thing that mech needed was a confidence boost. He narrowed his bright blue optics, noticing that both the red warrior and the green jet's optics had turned the same deep emerald as Ratchet's had after he took the synth-En.

He raised a servo, whistling in the hopes of attracting someone's attention to point this out, but Ratchet spoke right over the top of him, "But you never know if it may require additional firepower. Bumblebee can handle ground bridge duty."

At this, the yellow scout looked offended, letting out a long string of disgruntled, meaningless beeps and whirls before objecting, "Hey! Ground bridge duty's a rookie's assignment!"

The smoldering glare he got from the old medic made him shrink a little, quickly amending, "And... I actually think manning the ground bridge is an amazing privilege that I'd be glad to take care of while you're out!"

Skyquake stepped out onto the dry, dusty plateau they'd just bridged to, surveying the empty landscape for the Decepticon threat he'd come to decimate. He growled at the lack of mechs he was allowed to tear apart.

Shrugging lightly, the jet transformed and shot off into the sky with an audio-shattering scream of engines, spiraling through the air with a thrill of pleasure. Finally he could shake the nagging wing-bind that had plagued him for the near-quartex he'd been trapped in the Autobot foxhole they called a base.

Too bad Terabyte hadn't come. She'd've loved to go for a flight.

He would have loved to take her for a flight.

Just to be with a friendly presence again after seven vorns of solitude. Granted, seven vorns was not an intolerably long period of time by Cybertronian standards; yet the sheer alone-ness of it made it seem like an eternity to wait. It sounded horribly awful, but Skyquake was actually glad that Cybertron died.

If it hadn't, who knew how long he would have been stranded alone on this dreary mud ball.

Finally heeding the incessant string of commed orders to return to the group, the fighter-class jet made a nose-dive towards a point several meters behind the team, slicing through the clear skies like a blade. Mere feet from impact, Skyquake levelled out to zip past the walking Autobots, his underside just inches from the ground, spraying dust into their faceplates with a chuckle.

Unfortunately, he hadn't accounted for the red warrior to be fast enough to latch onto his wing as he passed, pulling him off balance as Cliffjumper was dragged through the dirt, refusing to let go. The green jet growled as his wingtip scraped against the plateau from the weight of the undesired passenger, who was too busy having half the desert crammed down his throat to enact whatever he'd been planning.

Shooting over the edge of the cliff, Skyquake gave a deep, rumbling laugh as his passenger roared in surprise as the ground beneath him suddenly gave way to open air. Only a few astroseconds passed before he realized that he was not only flying sideways, but also rapidly losing altitude, hurtling towards a large group of Decepticon drones led by Blitzwing.

Once Cliffjumper had managed to choke up a ventful of sand, the red mech let out a loud, yodeling whoop as he continued to drag them both ground-ward, straight towards the massive triple-changer, whose back was turned towards them.

"Let go of me!" Skyquake roared, shaking his wing in a futile attempt to dislodge the mech as the cliff-face continued to grow closer, "You're going to get us both killed!"

"I know!" Cliffjumper shouted back with an exhilarated laugh.

The green jet's engines screamed in protest to the stress he was putting on them, trying to level out, "Are you glitched?!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the red mech replied cheerily, "Probably!"

Right as he flew over Blitzwing, Cliffjumper let go of his wing, hollering war-cries and laughing like a madmech, leaving Skyquake hurtling towards a cliff-face that he had no way of maneuvering away from.

He transformed just in time to slam into his side against the stone wall, crashing down to land with a muted crunch as he landed on some horribly unobservant guard. The green jet chuckled, bending down to pat the moaning Vehicon on the helm, "Thanks old friend. You really took the fall for me."

Snapping the mech's neck with a light flick of his wrist, Skyquake rose and offlined the other six guards that had surrounded him with relative ease, then turned to see Cliffjumper perched on a knocked out Blitzwing, leaking synth-En from a wound in his side and lip.

The red mech leapt off of the triple-changer and landed right behind a miner, leaning forward with a blaster held beside the mech's helm, screaming, "Boo!"

When the poor miner shrieked femme-ishly and fainted, Cliffjumper glanced over at Skyquake and they both broke out in raucous laughter as the other miners ran in all directions.

By the time the others arrived, the miners - for that was all that they'd left functioning - were scattered, and the two mechs who'd very literally dropped in on the mining operation were doubled over with laughter, laughing so hard that pink drops of coolant had gathered in their optics.

"What is wrong with you two?" Arcee asked incredulously, watching them with an amused smirk tugging at her lips, Optimus and Bulkhead having left her with them to chase down Ratchet.

Short of breath, Skyquake just wheezed out a weak, "Boo!", before lapsing back into a fit of giggles. Arcee just shook her helm with a smile and followed the Prime to get Ratchet.

Meanwhile: Autobot Base

Bumblebee stared at the terminal for several breems, reading everything on the screen about a million times, memorizing every glyph, image, and hyphen on the terminal in boredom. He sighed, giving a depressed little buzz. Why did he have to take bridge duty on a weekday? Couldn't he have done it on Saturday, when the kids were all here to keep him company?

He scowled for a minute and paced the main chamber for a couple breems, then transformed and pulled donuts in the entry-way. Still no response from the Bots. The scout walked back over to the terminal and pulled up the security feeds.

Maybe the scientist fellow from the Golden Age would be interesting to watch. The white jet wasn't quite as big as Skyquake, probably a foot or two shorter... Battle jets weren't really that big. They were only a tiny bit taller than Prime, kind of like Megatron. They were just bulkier, more decked out for war. The scout figured that if this mech had as much armor and weaponry as Skyquake, they would be the same size.

This mech was a civilian class jet; his armor was softer, more rounded at the edges and he didn't appear to have any weapons at all. Wherever this mech came from, he obviously wasn't a soldier. Even more puzzling was the way he seemed to trust everyone and everything he came in contact with.

Like he'd never seen a day of war.

The white jet just sat on his berth, scrutinizing the wilted potted plant - an evergreen sapling that had somehow gotten in the brig - as if it were the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen. After watching the scientist stare at the plant for a couple klicks, Bumblebee sighed, turning his gaze to the other empty security feeds. The femmes' door was open, and he couldn't see anyone inside, but at the same time, none of the other feeds revealed the defected femme.

Personal quarters were the only rooms without cameras, but they were all locked aside from the femmes'. Which meant that Terabyte was supposed to be in view. Unless she was still in her quarters. He shrugged boredly. Arcee probably just left the door open, or the systems were glitching from the Scraplets, or whatever.

He shuttered his optics and leaned his back up against the base of the terminal, falling into a light recharge.

He'd hardly been like that for half a klick when the terminal binged to inform him that the brig force field had been momentarily offlined, flipping back online a couple nanos afterwards. Bumblebee's brow furrowed and he got up with a lazy flick of his door wings.

Checking the security feeds again, the scout's optics widened with surprise when he found Terabyte inside the white jet's cell, sitting across the table from him. Her sensory finials were held rigidly at a formal angle, her armor flared as usual. It was weird that she never relaxed. She didn't even seem to notice it either.

The little midnight colored femme wasn't supposed to go anywhere without an escort. Not to mention he still had no clue how she got there without him seeing her on the feeds. And then there was also the issue of defector possibly scheming with the prisoner. Ratchet had audio surveillance installed... Bumblebee just wasn't sure how to access it.

Whirring worriedly, the scout ran towards the hall to go get her, then skidded to an abrupt halt as Optimus' voice called in from the terminal, "Bumblebee, bridge us back."

About a half an hour ago: Desert

"Melted? Now there's a concept..." Ratchet said, transforming his hand into a plate-welder with a wild glint in his emerald optics, brandishing it threateningly, "I won't ask you a second time: Where is Megatron?"

The Vehicon miner whimpered, his armor pressed down in a display of terror as he vainly stretched his helm away from the heat of the welding flame that was melting into his face, no doubt causing an immeasurable amount of pain. The medic smirked at the Decepticon's cowardice.

"The Nemesis is hovering over a tiny town in the northern portion of the humans' 'California'! Coordinates are 40 degrees north by 122 degrees west! " The miner spewed out quickly, along with the coordinates for a stockpile of Energon free for the taking, his frame going limp with relief as the welder was taken off his now-mutilated face. His red double visors brightened in fear as Ratchet transformed the welder into a short sword. He howled, "That's all I know, I swear it on my spark! Really!"

The red and white medic grunted, raising his sword to stab the pathetic mech through, hesitating only because of the Prime's voice coming from behind him. He stood up and turned to glare at his leader, hearing the miner's ragged venting as he limped away as fast as he could manage, swaying and wobbling from the damage to his helm.

"Ratchet!" Optimus yelled, his heavy pede-falls growing louder as he approached, "What are you doing?"

"Getting results." He spat, watching the miner run.

"And breaking protocol." The Prime pointed out, his tone cold as he saw what his old friend had done. "That was a Decepticon miner: servant class, not warrior class."

Ratchet fumed, whirling around to glare up at Optimus, his sneering tone visibly cutting through his friend and leader, "Oh, and let me guess; I'm just the medic."

"Autobots do not inflict harm until all other options are exhausted." The scarlet and blue mech countered his clenched jaw and stiff voice revealing the restrained anger the Prime was fighting, "That is what separates us from the Decepticons."

"Is it really time for another lecture, Optimus?" He scoffed. "You didn't just happen to discover Megatron's coordinates, did you?" Not waiting for an answer, Ratchet ranted on, "Well, I did! And do you happen to know where there's a stockpile of raw Energon ripe for the taking? I do!"

Bulkhead walked up and made a couple placating gestures, glancing back at the two mechs still laughing over some private joke, "Come on, Ratch'. Calm it down."

"Calm is the last thing we need right now!" He bellowed back at him, rage building up in him as the memory of the miner's utter terror refused to leave his mind, "Calm is what lost us Cybertron! The Cons have a warship, an army... All this Energon scouting, you think Megatron isn't gearing up for something big?"

Ratchet paused for a moment, venting hard as he waited just long enough to let them consider his question, "We're squandering our resources, chasing down Megatron's crumbs when we really need to be hitting him hard... hitting him now, precisely where it hurts!"

"A direct assault on the Decepticons would only provoke retaliation and incalculable losses." Optimus replied coolly, his tone clearly defining the end of the discussion, "I will not endanger innocent human lives."

"Oho, really now?" Ratchet asked, his emerald optics smoldering, "Yet you seem to have no problem endangering ours."

"Just ask Prowl, or Tailgate!" The medic sneered at him, his engine growling with anger, his next words of challenge practically oozing sarcasm, "Oh, wait, I forgot! They couldn't be here today."

"That's enough!" Arcee yelled at him, shoving him away from them both, her optics filled with a combination of pain and fury.

He tilted his chin up in mutinously smug way, knowing that he'd cut them both so deep that they'd actually stop to listen to his words for once. After all, when one was just a lowly medic, it took a lot more to be heard.

His voice was lowered again, his tone cold, "You know your problem, Optimus? For such a big, strong bot, you're soft. You didn't pound Megatron to a scrap when you had the chance - many chances in fact. You want to know why we've faced so many casualties in this never-ending war of yours? You're too soft to finish what you and Megatron started."

The Prime's optics were pained, but when he spoke, his voice was hard and unwavering, "I am afraid the synthetic Energon has impaired your judgement, old friend. I am confining you to base until further notice." Touching the side of his helm, he commed base, "Bumblebee, bridge us back."

"Fine." The medic huffed, acting reluctantly subdued.

In the meantime, his processors ran at full speed planning his next move. When the green and purple portal flashed open, he went forward first. Halfway through the event-horizon, Ratchet spun around and sprung up towards Bulkhead, kicking the huge ex-Wrecker over and making a run for it.

Without stopping for a second, the medic transformed into his emergency vehicle alt-mode and sped off, leaving cloud of dust in his wake.

Present time: Autobot Base

"Femmeling, the molecular structure of this organic is intriguing, is it not?" Jetfire asked as he continued to poke and prod at the little sapling, running several varieties of multi-phasic scans, some of which Terabyte didn't even know existed still.

She had taken the liberty of sending him a language package so that he could follow protocol and use English, but even with English, the mech's way of speaking was strange to her, lilted and melodic in a way that she had never heard before. Perhaps it came from the mech having lived before the War. Maybe things were more different then than she'd thought.

"Jetfire, what exactly is it that you believe in?" She asked bluntly, watching with a small degree of confusion.

He didn't carry himself like a Decepticon, nor did he seem hostile in any way. Honestly, she couldn't tell why Megatron would have kept him, much less posted him as a guard for a planet of such strategic value as Earth. Even when she still thought that the Decepticons were good, she'd grown accustomed to the hard, hostile way about them. She'd just thought that everyone was like that, after all, war was not kind, one couldn't afford to be soft.

But this mech seemed to radiate gentleness in a way that not even the Autobots did. Like he'd never seen a day of war, in spite of the many decavorns that he had lived. She frowned. If he truly had been on Earth for fifty vorns... He may very well have never seen a battle.

"I believe many things, child... What is your meaning?" He replied softly, leaving the sapling alone for long enough to look up at her with sharp gold optics.

"I have not been a child for many vorns..." She objected quietly, her optic ridges pulling together in slight annoyance. Louder, she rephrased her query, "What I mean is this: What do you fight for? What is the cause that drives you?"

The white jet hummed thoughtfully, examining the little evergreen sapling closely. Finally, he muttered to himself, "The organic requires refueling... What do you suppose such a creature would normally ingest?"

Leaning back against the wall, Jetfire began to study her carefully, sounding minorly offended, "I am a pacifist, child, I do not fight. Nor do I believe that your vorns come close to the age I see behind those ruby optics. Your childhood was stolen from you, was it not?"

She clenched her jaw, optics narrowing as her armor flared out a micron further. Forcing a coolly professional tone, Terabyte replied, "You are evading my query."

The mech laughed, a clear, bubbling sound that flowed just as smoothly as his voice, "You are a very perceptive little femmeling, but I must point out that I am not the only one evading queries."

"I asked first." The two-wheeler countered, raising an optic ridge in challenge.

"Very well." The jet replied, still smiling a tiny, amused little smile.

He was about a foot and a half shorter than Skyquake. If the war ever ended, she would have to persuade Skyquake to consider taking on a civilian class frame, as opposed to the battle class that he currently was. He could stand to lose a foot or two in height; after all, he was only taller than everyone she knew. Which was really quite unnecessary since everyone she knew was already significantly taller than her.

Flicking her finials to send away the distracted thoughts, Terabyte waited for the mech's answer, sincerely hoping that he would give an answer she could work with. She may not have stayed online to complete the first part of her mission, but her mission wasn't over yet. The end goal was to persuade the sleeper to join the Autobots rather than returning to the Decepticons.

"The cause by which I am driven is quite simple actually. I strive to bring our people to peace once more, living in harmony with one another, all Cybertronians equal in society. I am driven by the desire to end violence, pain, and sickness... even death." He said softly, his gold optics for the first time showing that he wasn't as unscathed by the war as he seemed.

She tilted her helm slightly to the side, staring at the floor with partially dimmed optics. There had been a time when she still thought such a world was possible. From time to time, it would shine in her dreams, dispersing for a moment the nightmares that plagued her recharge. But she knew better than to think such perfect paradise could be attained. She could enjoy it in her fantasizing, but in reality, she knew there would always be corruption, even in the best of systems.

"In short: Utopia." Terabyte nearly whispered. Kind of like the Archives had spoken of the peak of the Golden Age, before the Council had gained too much power. Long before even Jetfire's time.

"In short." Jetfire conceded, inclining his white helm, accented with red. Raising an optic ridge, the mech gestured for her to answer his question now.

She sighed deeply. "Do you want the short version or the long one?"

The jet looked around the small cell, shut in by a glowing force field. Smiling wryly, he replied, "The long version will serve to keep me occupied during my imprisonment. If you do not object."

The femme stiffened, suddenly becoming acutely aware of being watched. Glancing up at the well-hidden camera in the corner of the room, her optics narrowed slightly. That wasn't why she felt watched though, because she knew it was there when she first entered. This feeling was new.

"I do not object..." She said slowly, extending her EM field outwards in a probing manner. She gasped lightly, her scarlet optics widening as she instantly recognized who the foreign field belonged to.

Pulling her field back in, she stiffened minutely, tightly reigning it back in. However, by the feel of the Prime's field, he was waiting for the appropriate moment to enter, and apparently he didn't think this was it. She swallowed, opting to pretend she hadn't noticed him.

Hopefully he hadn't noticed her noticing his presence.

"Your assumption is partially accurate... When I was a third frame youngling, Protihex - my home - was destroyed by Ultra Magnus and his team." This she spoke with cold hatred burning in her optics, veiling the frightened little femmeling who still cried herself to sleep on an ornly basis. "I didn't know much about the factions of the war, but I didn't really care either. I knew the faction of the mechs responsible for the destruction of my home, so I began the journey to the opposite faction."

"On my way to Kaon, I met an old mech who went by the name Alpha Trion. I... persuaded the mech to construct the frame I now wear, upgrading me directly from the third youngling frame to my adult frame."

Jetfire's optics grew wide with horror and he interrupted, exclaiming, "You skipped both of your developmental femmeling frames? The amount of stress an eleven-vorn premature upgrade would have placed on your spark would have been excruciating!"

Her expression remained stoic, her spark clenching slightly at the memory. "A fact of which I am all too aware. I joined the Decepticon ranks and served under Soundwave loyally for twelve vorns."

"Approximately one Earth year ago, I.." She hesitated, forcing herself not to look up at the camera in the corner of the room. No doubt they would also have audio surveillance systems installed. Only Optimus and Cliffjumper knew the true reason for her initial defection. I trust you to keep betraying us... Cliffjumper's voice growled in her helm. It would likely be best that that truth remain a mystery to the team... for now anyway. "... I defected to the Autobots, having grown weary of Starscream's rule."

It wasn't a total lie, she argued mentally as her finial twitched tellingly, she really had been sick of 'Lord Starscream'... "Though I defected, I did not expect them to be kind; the only true knowledge I had of them revolved around the destruction of my home. The Autobots showed kindness to me; however I spent nearly a quartex in their brig. Since my parole, the Autobots have continued to show the same kindness, leading me to slowly suspect that their generosity might possibly be genuine."

"This conclusion was helped along when their scout nearly killed my best friend-"

"Pardon?" Jetfire frowned in puzzlement at the seemingly contradictory statement, "I fail to see the connection between the generosity of the Autobots and the near murder of your best friend..."

She laughed lightly, the gentle tinkling laughter ringing clear, tinged with the pain of the memory, "I could have phrased that differently... They took him in and repaired him, saving his life, in spite of the fact that they very clearly didn't want to."

"A series of events resulting in Optimus Prime contracting Cybonic Plague, also known as Cosmic Rust, resulted in my entering the mind of a comatose Lord Megatron, via a cortical psychic patch. When I exited his mind, Lord Megatron entered mine and commandeered my frame, using me to revive himself with Dark Energon." Terabyte repressed a shudder, "His mind was... pure evil. All he felt was anger, perfect rage, and a malice so deep, not even my own could compare."

She shrugged, leaping from the table to land lightly on her feet in one fluid motion. "The experience planted a doubt in my spark regarding the nobility of the Decepticon cause, a cause which I once thought the same as my own; the same as yours. In the year that I have lived among the mechs I once considered enemies, I have realized that they stand for the very cause that I'd tried to fight for since I joined the War."

The white mech huffed, "In spite of their destroying of your home and family?"

"My duty is to our people, not any one cause, and besides that..." She bit her lip behind her mask and turned around to face the corner she knew the Prime was standing on the other side of. "I have learned an attribute the Decepticons do not hold in high regard. I have learned to forgive, and to not judge a whole race by the misguided actions of one. And likewise not judging one by the actions of her whole race."

Optimus smiled at her softly as he came around the corner, his cobalt optics seeming cut through to her spark, making her feel - as his gaze always did - as though he could read her mind and see into her spark. Turning to Jetfire, the Autobot leader spoke in regal tones, "The same refuge that we have opened to Terabyte is free also for you to enjoy, if you so wish... We could use another warrior in the laboratory to revive our people and our world."

"Cybertron has perished then?" Jetfire asked somberly, his golden optics narrowing and gaining a hard, determined gleam to them. His engine hummed lightly, and he nodded his white helm, looking the Prime straight in the optics, "To quote the femme, my duty is to our people. Science leaves no margin for unfounded faith in the undeserving leadership of a Dark-En corrupted madmech."

"It is decided then. I see no reason to doubt you, nor have you given me any reason not to trust you. As soon as we have recovered our medic, you will assist him in his duties."

Next Day

Sighing deeply, the little two-wheeler padded along down the hall, with Skyquake draping an arm over her shoulder. His armor was pressed close to his frame, and as usual, he was making himself seem far smaller than actuality. In spite of his cheerful, teasing rambling, Terabyte just couldn't get herself to perk up, or even really listen all that much.

"-the mech's face though!" He giggled, making her look up at him in bemused surprise. Skyquake never giggled... "Cliffjumper just leans in real close and he's like, 'Boo!' and the poor mech - you should've seen it! - he squeals like he just saw his own ghost and faints right there on the spot!"

She smiled up at him, her mask long since dropped, rolling her shoulder-wheels to shift her friend's huge arm to a more comfortable position. At his mention of Cliffjumper, her optics went sort of blank, though she continued to hold the weak pretense of nothing being wrong. She cocked her helm slightly, consternation writing itself onto her face as she noticed something completely wrong about Skyquake's face.

Or more specifically, about his optics. The brilliant shade of ruby was replaced with a deep, emerald. An emerald that was eerily familiar, though she couldn't remember where she'd seen that shade of green before...

She yelped in surprise as the battle jet scooped her up in one swift move, placing her on his shoulders and beaming up at her with a mischievous twinkle in his oddly green optics. She grinned back down at him, flicking the top of his helm with a clawed servo.

Feigning ultimate ignorance, Terabyte exclaimed, her expression mostly serious aside from a tiny quirk of her lips, "Why, sir! I do fear some mischief is afoot, for you seem to have shrunk a good ten feet!"

He laughed, "Dear confused little femme... You're quite mistaken, for I remain unaltered. You see, I didn't shrink, you merely leapt onto my shoulders in a fright."

"Hmm... I see." She hummed thoughtfully putting her chin on her hands, propping her elbows on his helm as he continued sauntering down the hall, going nowhere in particular. "And what, might I ask, did I 'leap onto your shoulders' to escape from, pin-cushion?"

Flicking a wing and bumping her into the huge spike on his left shoulder, Skyquake tickled the sensitive protoform exposed in her golden ankle with a snicker as she squealed and kicked her feet, pulling them up under her so she was standing like a cyber-hawk on his shoulders, "A tickling perhaps?"

Terabyte shrieked again as he reached up and tickled her sides, her laughter echoing through the empty halls. As she reached out to tickle the tips of his wings, neither noticed that they'd made their way to the offices. She crowed with victory as the mech doubled over with laughter - nearly dislodging her from the precarious perch - flicking his wings every which way to escape.

"You know I'll win!" The dark two-wheeler taunted, her scarlet optics gleaming with merriment.

Her victory was short-lived though as Skyquake recovered and caught her by the wrists, preventing her from tickling him as he grinned evilly up at her and put a single servo on her left shoulder-tire. Her optics went a little wider and her mouth fell into a tiny 'o' before she started squirming madly, shrieking, "Don't you dare! Stop! Stop!"

She burst into a fit of laughter as he spun her tire the wrong way in its socket, sending a thrill of vibrations up through her whole frame, leaving her in a helpless giggling pile on his shoulders, his own deep laughter joining in with hers. Her optics shut tightly as she giggled breathlessly, hot pink coolant sparkling in the edges of her optics.

Finally, she recovered enough to go perfectly stiff as a board, all of her muscle cables tensing up and her mask locking into place. Her engine stalled for a minute before her armor flared back out and she struggled for several klicks to pull herself into an upright, minutely more dignified position perched on Skyquake's shoulders.

Skyquake giggled like a sparkling high on sweet-En for a little longer, making her attempt at looking dignified significantly more challenging as he shook with mirth beneath her. Eventually he seemed to notice the change in her EM field and he straightened, going stiff as he too locked optics on the mech who stood just a meter or two away with one optic ridge raised so far up his face it would have been comical.

Terabyte held her gaze on the mech for several more klicks, her expression carefully, warily guarded as she anticipated the various responses what the Prime had just witnessed would elicit.

"Skyquake, Terabyte..." Optimus started slowly, blinking his cobalt optics and clearing his vents. He hesitated for a brief moment before visibly making a concentrated effort to lower his optic ridge, inclining his helm to them politely, "Good morning... Ah... Yes. Is there anything I may assist you with?"

Behind her mask, the midnight navy femme couldn't help but smirk a tiny bit at the normally regal Matrix-bearer's obvious floundering.

She shook her helm curtly, choosing to act as though it was perfectly normal to be sitting on Skyquake's shoulders like a youngling. "No, sir... Have we been able to locate Ratchet's life-signal?"

The Prime blinked again, appearing to regain a portion of his composure. "Not yet. Arcee is still scanning for it, with Jetfire's aid. They expect to have a lock on it within the joor."

"Understood sir."

With that, the scarlet and cobalt Autobot leader nodded again and stepped back into his office, closing the door behind him slowly, apparently having forgotten about what he'd exited his office to do in the first place.

She and Skyquake glanced at each other silently before grinning. Terabyte dropped her mask and put a thin silver servo up to her lips as the fighter jet bit his lip, gently setting her back down.

Once they were out of hearing range, Skyquake burst into a roaring laughter, which receded into another fit of giggles. Soon Terabyte had joined in and they both stood there laughing for a good breem before she finally recovered enough to beam up at him.

"That was good." She snickered again at the memory of the Prime's expression, "I don't think I've ever seen him so... decomposed..."

The jet bust up laughing again at that, making her frown slightly, not quite getting it until he wheezed, "Decomposed?"

She grinned as she realized what was so funny, and soon she was unable to resist laughing at the mental image Skyquake had no-doubt come up with. "You ding! Wrong word! I meant discomfited!"

Laughing too hard to speak, the mech commed the image to her over a private link, watching for her reaction. Terabyte opened the image file and bit her lip hard. It wasn't even that funny, but they'd both reached a point at which everything was hilarious. Skyquake had sent her a little cartoony image of a 'decomposed' Prime, making her snort loudly with laughter, which of course brought on a whole new fit of laughter.

Terabyte beamed up at Skyquake with clear, ruby optics shining with a true joy she hadn't felt for vorns. It was at times like these that one could almost forget that there was even a war raging just outside the safe confines of their base.

Just outside the safe confines of what she - in such a state of happiness - could dare to call a home.