Kneeling to the Sword

by Gatekat

Knights of Light. Dai Atlas/Axe. When General Dai Atlas and his SIC decide to retire from Nova Prime's army, they know it could cost them dearly and plan accordingly.

9. Twisting The Truth

Fandom: Transformers G1
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas, Atl/Wing, Wing/Thorn
Rating: NC-17
Codes: Slash, Historical Setting, Knights of Light, Sticky, Death
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 09: Twisting The Truth
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after so long, Axe still had mixed emotions about his schedule. He was grateful beyond words that he was almost never asked to move before noon, but that also meant he didn't get to join his mate in their berth until only a couple joors before Dai Atlas was expected to get up. They didn't get to recharge together much more than they did when Axe was still a Supplicant and they missed it. At the same time, Axe had never felt so productive in his entire existence. From the moment he got up he was coherent, fully focused and everything seemed to come so much easier than before.

Wing watched the black and gold triple changer from a short distance away as Axe cleaned up after sparring with Shogun. Over the centuries he had gotten to know his Initiate's bonded mate very well. Now it was time for the pair to become full Knights. But first, they had to undergo their final trial. Wing had to speak to Axe about the role the black mech would be playing in Dai Atlas' final trial, and he was not looking forward to the conversation.

He delayed it as long as he dared to, waking up early to catch Axe after he had showered at the end of his training but before there was any chance that Dai Atlas would be up yet, even if he woke up early to enjoy being in the berth with his mate for a couple joors.

"Axe," Wing called, finally revealing his presence. He stepped forward, closer to the black and gold mech, tilting his helm to meet the larger mech's blue optics.

"You're up early, even for you," Axe commented, a curious harmonic in his voice.

Wing chuckled. "Earlier than even I would prefer. I'm a morning mech, but not this early in the morning." He walked over to Axe, one wing extending to lightly tap black armor. "You and Dai Atlas will be Knighted soon."

The black giant froze, processing that and what Wing hadn't said for a moment. "A process that very little is said about in the records available to us."

"It's one of the Order's secrets," Wing admitted. "Initiates aren't told until after it's already over. But we've never had a bonded pair in training at the same time for a very long time. Every Knight Initiate has to undergo one final test before they are given the chance to bond their Great Sword and join our ranks. I'm going to need your help with Dai's final trial."

"Which means it's going to be a very ugly affair for both of us," Axe's optics narrowed and he carefully closed the bond as much as he dared to keep his mate from picking up too much. "What do you need of me?"

"It's never easy, for any of us," Wing replied. White wings quivered at some memory before Wing visibly steeled himself. "For Dai... It is going to be very hard, I won't lie to you. You might end up hating me for this." Wing inhaled slowly, x-venting equally slowly. "Sovereign Vanguard has decided that Dai's trial is to see how he copes with the loss of the bond, the loss of you. We're not going to harm you, or him; what we will have to do is block the bond. So neither of you can feel each other."

Axe nearly curled forward into a heap before he caught himself with clawed fingers against the wall. He clamped down on the bond hard before he woke his mate. With blue optics nearly white he stared at Wing, not truly comprehending what the mech was telling him.

"You know I'm going to have to be in stasis for this to work," Axe trembled even as he said it.

White wings drooped, Wing's pinions flattening against his nacelles. "I know. There's no way around it. This must be done."

"How will he think I expire?" Axe managed to ask, his voice shaky as he struggled to pull himself together.

Wing shifted. "Periodically, groups of raiders make passes at us. There's another such group in the area. The Sovereign says you can come with us when we chase them off and take a minor wound, which we would play up as fatal. Or you could fake such an injury. Either would work. Personally, I don't want to see you injured at all, but that's just my opinion."

"Will Dai Atlas be on the field?" Axe began plotting, working in his required retreat in dozens of ways. "And do you need to know before the battle what I'm going to do?"

"He will be with us, yes," Wing confirmed. "It will give both of you a better idea of how we operate. And no, I don't have to know beforehand."

Axe nodded. "Then I'll be injured, for real or otherwise. Hardwing does the rest, I assume." He hesitated. "Is anyone going to stop him if he decides to commit suicide?"

The white jet flinched at the thought, then nodded. "Yes. We will stop him if he tries to take that path."

"Then be ready," Axe said grimly. "If he takes off more than a few lengths, he'll be headed for Iacon and the Prime."

Wing nodded solemnly. "We will be ready."

"Good. Now I need you to make excuses for me to my mate. I'm going back to the arenas to see who I can pick a match with," Axe almost grumbled. "There's no way I can face him right now."

The white jet reached out to pat a dark shoulder gently. "I'll do my best."

"Thanks," Axe nodded and left, trying to look like he wasn't fleeing his mate and the confrontation that would ensue if Dai Atlas realized how upset he was right now.

Wing watched the larger mech go, wings drooping. Taking a moment to get himself together, the white jet walked back into his Initiate's berthroom, sliding onto the berth, then onto Dai Atlas' chest. Sighing softly, he curled up on black metal and slid into a light recharge.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Vanguard, the Sovereign of the Light, looked around the great tactical planning room of the Citadel. It was a space that was rarely used, built in a time when the Citadel was under attack regularly, but upgraded with the times. This orn there were just over two hundred Knights, every mecha who bore a Great Sword was looking at him or at the tactical display in the middle of the room. His optics held Wing's, then Atl's a bit longer than most; this battle would be the beginning of the hardest moment in a Daoshi's existence; the transition from Initiate to Knight of their charge.

"Knights of Light," the burgundy Seeker's deep voice rolled over the tense crowd. Most had seen real battle before, though not all, and it showed in who was the most excitably uneasy. "The Citadel is once more under threat. The raiders have returned." He motioned toward the display that showed the Citadel, the area around it and their opponents' camp in full tactical display that was transmitted to each of their HUDs. "This force is an unusually large and well armed one. Though they are not here, Initiates Dai Atlas and Axe will join us in the battle. They have not been Knighted, but they each have more experience than most of us combined. It will also be the beginning of their final trials."

Murmuring swept through the room, a few of the other Knights glancing at Atl and Wing. Everyone was well aware of who they were training, and all of Cybertron knew about the careers of the two mecha.

A mid-sized slate-blue and gray flier shifted. "Is that wise, Sovereign? We are all well aware of how traumatic the final trials can be for a fledgling Knight. Having not one but two trials beginning in a major confrontation..."

"The confrontation is the background that will allow the trial of Dai Atlas to begin. He will experience his bonded's deactivation," Vanguard allowed that to settle into the gathering. "Initiate Axe has agreed to be put in stasis and an inhibitor placed on his spark to mimic his end. He will be damaged, or indicate he has been, and sent to Hardwing during the battle. While they are separated it will happen."

"Dai Atlas is not going to react well," someone else pointed out from one of the higher tiers. "What's to stop him from berserking?"

"His training, if he was taught well," Vanguard answered.

"According to Axe, he is much more likely to take off for Iacon to ... remove ... the Prime," Atl spoke up smoothly, his own distress at this easy to read to those who knew him well. "The largest and best of our fliers must be ready to stop him. Axe also said that he may shrug it off until the battle is over and decide calmly what he is going to do. This is not his first broken bond. However, he has indicated that it will be his last."

"It's his third," Wing added very quietly, flipping his wings slightly. He leaned toward Atl. "It's what his reaction will be after the trials are over that I'm worried about..."

Tornado looked around the room. "The Initiate I am training can be of help. As a police mecha he was trained to take down fury- or grief-driven mecha." He nodded. "I will keep an optic on Dai Atlas." He sat down again, leaning forward to study the tactical displays.

"Thank you," Vanguard tipped his wings in acknowledgement. "Shogun is also one of the larger mecha among us. Now, who has questions about the tactical plan presented?"

Several other mecha began asking questions about various points of the outlined plan. Discussions and counter-discussions flew across the chamber. When it calmed down, Vanguard signaled several Knights to join him as he worked his way to Wing and Atl.

"Are you prepared for this, Wing?" he asked gently, his field and wing cant supportive of the young mech he'd watched grow into a Knight he was proud to claim.

Wing made a face. "I don't like it," he admitted. "But then, no Daoshi does. As their adopted jetling, I like it even less. But it has to be done. I'm as prepared as I'll ever be."

"Every Knight knows the pain of breaking so we may heal stronger and pure," Marwir said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Every Knight who passes on our traditions knows the pain of doing it to one they care for greatly. You are both ready."

"Doesn't make it any easier," Wing murmured.

Tornado reached out to pat the young jet's shoulder. "It's never easy. Dai Atlas is a strong mech."

The other Knights in the group murmured their agreement.

"We," Vanguard motioned to the half dozen Knights that had gathered around Wing and Atl, "are those who will ensure your Initiate does nothing irreversible, be it flight or violence where he stands. What can you tell us that we do not know?"

"I've never seen him really fly; it's too dangerous for him to fly, so I can't say what he might do once he's in the air," Wing replied. "Anyone who has sparred with him or watched him train knows how strong he is."

Aurora chuckled and flicked her wings. "Strong, fast for his size, liable to pull tricks from a hundred fighting styles, determined."

"They'll all be carrying the heavy medical stunners that took him down before," Hardwing added grimly. "This is insanely risky with a mecha like him," the chief medic glared at Vanguard, then held up a hand to stop him. "I know, pit damn it. I know exactly who plans these things out."

"I have," a low, lilting voice spoke from Wing's hand level. "I knew him when he was very much in his battlefield prime. He can outfly most Seekers, his armor has taken blasts meant to take a gestalt down and he's continued to fight. Most Knights could kill him in a one on one fight, but I doubt many could subdue him if he wasn't willing to play by sparring rules. You'll need those medical stunners, and don't be shy about hitting him repeatedly. He's got more redundant systems than most."

"I know, Demeter," Hardwing reached down to pat the tiny Knight's furry helm, making her canine ears twitch. "I've had my hands in most of those systems."

"Going to be interesting trying to keep him from taking off." One corner of Tornado's mouth quirked into a tiny smile. "Going to be even more interesting getting him back to the Citadel if we have to stun him. He's no lightweight. Not taking into account the extra weight of white jet." He tilted his helm at Wing, who made a face at him but refrained from sticking out his glossa.

"When pushed that far, he makes no effort to stay within the rules," Wing added. "Remember when he and Axe sparred with Dart for the first time."

"It is difficult to forget," Vanguard actually smiled. "It was amazing to see so many moves integrated into our form so smoothly. Yes, and we will push him much further than Dart ever did. We also all remember his first flashback among us," he glanced at Wing. "I do not believe anyone will underestimate him."

"He still regrets that." Wing's wings fluttered. He'd made a point of avoiding landing a blow near the leg joint in question since that particular flashback. "Dai Atlas is definitely not a mech to be underestimated. Hopefully, between all of us we can keep him from flying back to Iacon, or doing anything equally drastic. Axe warned me to keep an optic on him... Losing his third bonded may drive him to suicide."

"That is what the flight to Iacon is," Demeter told them. "Suicide for an old warrior. You pick a worthy fight you have little chance of winning. He'll challenge the Prime."

White wings tensed. "He won't go. We won't let him."

Tornado nodded slowly. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

"Agreed," she nodded before drifting towards another group while those who would make sure Dai Atlas survived his trial continued to plan their additional duties in the coming battle.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

The entire contingent of the Citadel of Light was gathered. Everyone, from the most battle-hardened and senior Knights to the youngest and least skilled dependents had a purpose in defending their home on this orn. Most of the Knights were to be on the front lines. Everyone with medical training or experience of any kind who wasn't needed on the front line had been pulled in by Hardwing to assist the injured. The few non-Knights who were large, strong or able to fly had been recruited and organized by Senior Knight Angel to rescue any badly injured Knights from the field if the Knights could not get themselves to help. Those with good sensors were set on watch. Those who knew how were set to lock down every entrance to the Citadel that no one normally thought about.

Though it all, everyone watched Dai Atlas and Axe. Watched the pair twitch and try not to overstep their rank when everything in them was screaming at them to take charge and lead the army as they had for so long few mecha alive knew a time when either one was not a command officer. Instead the pair busied themselves with doing anything and everything that didn't seem to be getting done.

It looked like the nervous energy many of the younger Knights were displaying in various ways, but few were fooled. The looming battle did not faze this pair any more than it did the few other former front line soldiers who'd seen vorns of action. This was the stress of being at the bottom of the rank structure when they knew more than those at the top.

Wing was darting between the command group and his Initiate, trying to keep his nervousness in check. He was looking forward to this even less than most of the others. This orn would see the beginning of a difficult and painful trial for Dai Atlas, as well as being the largest battle the Citadel had seen since the days when they were regularly under attack from armies.

Around them Knights were doing last-minute checks on their armor and weapons, some of them honing their swords to an even sharper edge. Plasma and energy blades crackled and flared, their light glinting off their wielders' armor.

"I'd tell you to relax, but I know it won't help," Dai Atlas told Wing when he darted over once more, checking on the ancient pair as they settled into the last checks of their weapons and armor. "Hold still." Dai Atlas all but grabbed the twitchy jet to inspect him. "We are not going to lose you in your first battle."

"I've never seen a battle this big before," Wing admitted, settling into Dai Atlas' hands and trying to use the larger mech's calm to help ground himself. But that was only a half-truth. It was the blue giant's looming final trial that was making Wing so nervous. That, however, was not something he could admit to. Trying not to fidget too much, Wing let himself be thoroughly inspected, armor and weapons, yielding to the older mech's experienced optic. Never hurt to get a second opinion of his preparations.

"I don't think most Knights have seen anything this big." Axe tested the edge of one of his short swords critically. He had to admire the bladesmiths of the Citadel; they knew how to turn out a very high-quality blade.

"Not in living memory," Atl agreed as he joined them, Axe's great ax carried in both hands. "I talked Vanguard into letting you have it back for the battle, since it is your weapon. Just try to favor your swords. They are the traditional weapons of a Knight of Light."

Axe's optics brightened and a wicked grin appeared on his face as he accepted the weapon. "My thanks." He tested the edge of the blade, hefting the ax to get used to the way it felt in his hands again. It had been a long time since he'd last had the chance to wield it. "And I will try."

Wing peered around Dai Atlas' arm, flicking a wing in apology as the larger mech grumbled at him to hold still so he could be properly inspected. "I think you just made his orn, Atl." He inspected the ax curiously, having heard of it but never actually seen it.

"Definitely," Axe grinned and set to work sharpening the edge of the old and very vicious looking weapon nearly as tall as Axe was.

"I'm pleased," Atl smiled brightly. "Are you all ready?" He glanced between the two giants as Wing was finally released with a satisfied sound from Dai Atlas.

Wing took his time detaching himself from Dai Atlas, pressing briefly against the larger mech's plating before reluctantly peeling away and standing beside the triple changer. White armor ruffled and settled again.

"More or less," Dai Atlas rumbled. A long wing twitched. "It feels... distinctly odd to be going into battle and not leading the army."

"I'm sure," Atl told him easily. "Just remember we're a fairly egalitarian society. Don't be afraid to offer tactics or advice. You may be an Initiate, but we all know you are both extremely seasoned command officers as well. Not everyone is going to listen, but you won't be reprimanded for it."

Dai Atlas nodded. "We'll keep that in mind." He rested one hand absently on the pommel of one of the swords he carried.

Preparations were wrapping up, the Knights gathering into a group before the main gates of the Citadel. They were preparing to move out when Dai Atlas and Axe followed their Daoshi to join the gathering.

That was where things went slightly sideways for the two former Generals. They could sense the order, but it was the order that mixed first-orn grunts in training with special operations. It didn't look like order. Just a large group that knew how to fight and had a sense of rank and purpose.

~This is going to kill me,~ Dai Atlas groaned to his mate.

Axe reached over to pat Dai Atlas' shoulder. ~The Knights have managed to hold off the raiders for this long. I would expect there's more to them - and their tactics - than we're seeing. At least, I would hope so.~ He looked over the assembled mecha. ~Either way, this is going to be an experience. Good or bad, I can't really say.~

~It's going to be a victory too, even if I have to pound the Knights into a coherent force on the fly,~ Dai Atlas said grimly. ~But raiders, just the two of us can take most of them.~

~You're probably going to have to,~ Axe replied. ~And yes, we can take most of the raiders.~ The black mech shifted, trying not to think of what else was going to happen this orn. Blue optics flicked toward the small white jet walking with them, and gold optics flicked up to meet the blue gaze.

~You haven't been this nervous since long before we bonded,~ Dai Atlas turned nearly his full attention to his mate. ~Should I be guarding you more than usual?~

~It's from looking at a pack of disorganized mecha going out to drive off an army of raiders with our sparkling among them,~ Axe replied. ~I'm fine.~

Dai Atlas snorted in amusement. ~I know your pain,~ he agreed as they walked, rather than marched, out of the Citadel with the majority of the Knights. The bulk of the raiders' army, more than a thousand strong, milled about on the far side. ~Though not the pain of being on the side that uses swords against blasters.~

~Makes me glad we're both so heavily armored. Can take more hits before taking real damage.~ Axe eyed the raiders, taking note of the visible weapons as well as the conditions of the enemy mecha. Heavier armed than most, state of repair was mixed, as was armor and exact weapons.

For a long, confusing moment both sides simply stared, judging and gauging, before the raiders opened fire.

"Knights of Light, defend the Citadel!" Sovereign Vanguard's bellow could be heard easily across the entire plane.

The Knights answered with a roar, charging forward with blades bared, the front ranks dodging and ducking blaster fire. The raiders, having tangled with Knights before, were less enthusiastic about closing to sword distance, trying to scurry out of their way. Their lack of group cohesion was their worst enemy at that point, fouling them up long enough for the Knights to close in.

Axe leaned over Wing to sneak a quick kiss from Dai Atlas before adding his voice to the battle chorus, charging forward. Wing echoed him, staying between the two larger mechs, his plasma swords flaring blue in his hands.

Dai Atlas grinned with a feral rumble and sheathed both his swords when he realized that 'don't kill' did not mean 'don't maim'. Standing chest and shoulders above all but the largest raiders, the giant folded his wings backwards and down to lay along his back and dove into the fray with a joyful abandon of flying fists and pedes.

The first raider to encounter Axe was not the largest of mecha. Pale greenish optics went wide as the raider saw the black behemoth coming his way, and focused trying to scoot back out of range. Axe swung his ax like a club, using the flat of the blade to send the raider flying.

"Nice shot!" Wing ducked under a raider's rust-edged weapon, his plasma blade flaring as it dug into a shoulder joint, rendering the arm useless. Another raider tried to sneak up on the white jet, only to be spotted from the corner of a blue optic and sent helm over aft into a small cluster of enemies, tripping them.

Axe took the chaos, and his mate's joyful embrace of it, to work his way further from Dai Atlas. He needed to be far enough away to fake an injury if he couldn't find a raider tough enough to give him a good fight. Fortunately his focus on finding the deadly looking ones settled perfectly with what they were doing: protecting the less experienced and lighter armored Knights from the hardest fights.

From the corner of his optic, Axe spotted a large raider just as the other mech sent one of the Knights skidding across the metal ground, striking sparks and leaving streaks of paint behind. Turning in that direction, Axe announced himself by letting out a nearly feral roar. Ax ready, the black and gold mech charged.

The green mono-optic giant bellowed in return and charged as well, focusing on Axe with his fits raised. All around their path raiders and Knights scattered; no one wished to get between the two giants.

Blue optics narrowed as Axe focused on his enemy, barely noticing everyone else getting out of the way. Holding his ax at the ready, the black and gold triple changer sought out a weak point on the raider's massive frame, concentrating on the joints. Even though he tried, he didn't manage to dodge, and realized far too late that he wasn't just getting punched.

A massive explosion torn into the armor of his lower chest, sending shockwaves through all his internals despite the finest dampening and armor system the empire had developed only a few hundred vorns before. Belatedly his sensors warned him that this mech had a prototype gravity generator in that fist that spawned a point singularity on impact.

Growling, Axe clamped down on the pain, locking onto a target. His ax flicked out, striking sparks off his enemy's armor. Thick plating parted only with great reluctance under the weapon's razor edge and massive momentum.

The green giant with the single enormous red optic bellowed in outrage and opened up two sides of his chest armor to unleash dozens of missiles at once, not caring in the least that he was less than a pace away from his target.

The phrase Axe let loose upon seeing the missiles made some of the nearby Knights and raiders give him an astonished look. He swiped at one of the missiles, causing it to blow as it exited its launcher, probably pissing the massive raider off even more. Trying to stay away from the massive fists, Axe circled, his ax catching an arm joint and slicing into the circuitry.

This time the giant grabbed the ax just below the blade and yanked.

Not wanting to be jerked off his feet and thrown, Axe reluctantly released the weapon. Drawing his short swords, he snarled at his opponent, optics flaring.

The green giant snarled back and charged, his fists raised. This time his explosive blow impacted with Axe's left shoulder, driving the black giant to his knee.

Axe let loose another interesting profanity, taking the opportunity to aim one swordblade at a knee joint. Lurching back to his pedes as quickly as he could as his massive opponent reeled in pain and recalibrated his balance, Axe flexed his shoulder briefly as he searched for a new angle of attack.

When he was charged again, he saw his main advantage: he had a processor capable of more than 'point and pound' orders.

Blue optics narrowed to slits. Axe darted out of the way, twisting to get behind his opponent. Quick slashes of his swords left oozing, sparking gashes across the raider's side and back but not cutting deep enough to sever anything vital.

A bellow of pure rage exploded and the raider twisted around faster than Axe anticipated was possible. Two huge fists came down together, catching Axe across the chest, only a handspan above his spark chamber.

The black mech staggered back, collapsing to one knee. That blow had been one too many. Static began to obscure his vision. Before he collapsed, he could hear his mate's distinctive roar drawing closer and briefly had time to muse that the trial may not be over a fake after all.

"Lugnut smash stupid mech," the green one-opticked mech smirked before turning to face a mech that was actually bigger than he was.

And far, far angrier.

Lugnut turned and bellowed back at the blue mech. Raising his fists, he charged, relishing the thought of pounding the slag out of this blue stranger.

Behind the now-oblivious green raider, several other Knights converged on Axe, picking the black and gold triple changer off the ground, making a beeline for the medical station.

They were noted by Dai Atlas with a sense of relief, even as his focus remained on his opponent. His short swords were out again, though he had no intention of using them as swords. He knew the thickness of this mecha's armor. Instead he flared his wings open and drove forward, angling his sword like an extension of his punch, much as he'd done to Wing, only with far more control.

Lugnut bellowed in rage as the blade went right through his armor. One massive fist lashed out, aiming for the blue mech's chest only to find the other blade flicking up and around to slice his hand completely off. Dai Atlas braced his pedes and pulled his sword free with a twist, tearing a great swath of damage without cutting anything that would kill quickly.

This time the bellow was as much pain as blind fury. Utterly enraged, ignoring the energon and hydraulic fluids flowing from his wounds, Lugnut lunged, trying to use his own bulk to bring down the other mech. He forgot that said mech's mass was greater than his own.

Dai Atlas simply braced for the charge, took Lugnut's mass and momentum and threw him into a helm-first crash into the ground before slashing out with his swords to cut long, deep gashes into Lugnut's legs near his pedes.

Nearby Knights were watching in amazement, raiders in dread of facing this mech. They were discreetly inching away, not wanting to get into Dai Atlas' proverbial crosshairs.

Lugnut snarled as he attempted to get up, a fresh bellow of pain escaping as he tried to brace his severed wrist against the ground. His pedes were refusing to support him, the critical hydraulic lines cut. Twisting on the ground, he lashed out with his remaining fist, aiming at a blue and gold leg.

A leap, firing of powerful thrusters and downward slash severed the remaining hand from its arm before Dai Atlas landed on it with a heavy thud to crush it.

With both hands severed and his legs not working, energon pooling on the ground, Lugnut slumped down in a heap. He managed another snarl of rage up at the blue swordsmech, even if he could no longer strike out at his enemy.

::Wing, unless we're going to repair him, deactivation is a mercy,:: Dai Atlas pinged his Daoshi after a glance confirmed that the white jet wasn't in a serious fight.

::Let him live,:: was the immediate response.

Immediately Dai Atlas braced a pede on Lugnut's upper back, pinning the giant in place. A precise slash of his blade sent the raider into immediate stasis, though it wasn't obvious unless you knew the signs very well that he hadn't just been deactivated.

::The raiders will collect their wounded later.:: Wing kicked an opponent in the face, staggering the raider long enough for a blue plasma sword to sever a wrist. Darting over to balance briefly on Dai Atlas' shoulder, Wing winced at the damage to the raider at his Initiate's pedes, then tugged lightly on a golden helm crest.

With a grunt that was more 'I know my function' than anything, Dai Atlas scanned the field for the next large, heavy target that was best suited for him to tackle.

Wing launched off the blue giant's shoulder, aiming for another knot of raiders and Knights. There were no shortage of opponents for Dai Atlas, either, as a small group of raiders charged in all at once, clearly believing they'd fare better than Lugnut had if they came at Dai Atlas en masse. Others were smarter, keeping distance and using heavy blasters. Which would have worked if they'd been powerful enough to do more than burn the ultra-heavy military armor.

Every time Wing got close enough to his Initiate to feel Dai Atlas' field, he got another dose of just how much the giant reveled in this. Yet it had the cleanness of joy that came from your core function when it matched your spark. The same joy Wing felt when he was skydancing at the very limits of his frame's tolerances.

Wing spared a chirr for Dai Atlas whenever he got close, choosing to stay in the vicinity of the larger blue mech. This was his first real battle, so he stayed relatively close as much to make sure he had help if he got in over his helm as to be right there when Hardwing installed the inhibitor in Axe to block the bond. He knew that Hardwing was up to his elbow in Axe's frame at that moment, searching for any severe damage that absolutely had to be repaired before he would install the inhibitor, but before the battle was out, Dai Atlas would believe he had lost his third bonded mate.

Warnings were pinging on Wing's HUD that he was 10% through his reserve tank when he felt it happen. He didn't share a spark-bond to either mech, but when Dai Atlas' bellow of loss reverberated through the field it carried far more than the simple harmonics of grief or anger. It carried power.

::Knights of Light. Retreat,:: Dai Atlas called out on their comm frequency, his tone that of pure authority.

Helms snapped up all over the battlefield, raiders scattering from the blue mech's immediate vicinity. Multiple pairs of Knight wings readied for takeoff if necessary. Wing whipped around, making a beeline for Dai Atlas.

Other Knights looked over at the blue mech in confusion, wondering just what was going on. Shouts of confusion rang out over the clash of sword against armor. Multiple pairs of optics turned to Vanguard for direction.

"Wing. Go. I will explain later!" Dai Atlas snapped at his adoptive creation.

The former priest's white optics flared in comprehension. ::Retreat!:: he roared over the comm and out loud. ::You too, Wing.::

Raiders stared in astonishment as Knights turned and bolted back toward the Citadel. The air was thick with fliers and airframes as they took flight, most vanishing inside the walls, the largest and most skilled perching atop the wall. Wing stared wide-opticked at Dai Atlas for a moment, then followed, clinging to the wall, wings trembling against his back.

They watched as Dai Atlas' voice rumbled out, carrying the power of his particular gift. Though the Knights on the wall heard the words he sang, they could feel that they were far enough away not to be subject to the gift it carried to those closer.

Dai Atlas gave himself over to his gift, to the grief tearing through his spark, as every pain he had ever known, every loss, everything he had taken on to spare others, was forced upon those listening to his song.

Wing stared. Never before had he heard of anything like this before. He could hear the other Knights on the wall muttering in shock and amazement, wondering just what was going on. Those in the courtyard below milled about, trying to figure out exactly what they were hearing.

Those who could see the battlefield watched as raiders screamed, tearing at their own frames as they experienced the loss of bond after bond, the loss of creations, the loss of purpose. The words expressed it, but they experienced it. Many tore out their own sparks. Others shot themselves. Some simply crumbled into heaps, twitching and whimpering.

There was utter silence from the watching Knights. All of them were as still as statues, optics wide with shock. None of them could believe what they were seeing.

Wing twitched, turning wide, pale optics on Vanguard, silently asking what was going on, and what would happen next.

::This ... is the will of Primus,:: the former priest responded the only way he knew how. He realized, now, that he should have expected this, should have read it in the giant's designation. He'd trained himself out of reading designations and in this case he regretted it. ::His designation means "Primus' Burden", Wing. This is his gift.::

::I don't understand.:: Wing turned his gaze back out to what had become a killing field. ::What is he doing?:: The white jet had heard much about the former General during his own walkabout, but never had he ever heard even a rumor of Dai Atlas having this kind of power.

::If I understand his designation correctly, he can relieve others of burdens by taken them as his own, and as he is doing now, he can inflict those burdens on others as well. The raiders are experiencing not just his pain, but all the pain he has taken on, all at once. I do not imagine many have the ability to withstand such an assault.::

::From the look of it, no. I will be astonished if any of the raiders survive this.:: Wing shivered at the thought, pulling his wings tighter and pulling his armor tight to his frame.

Marwir came up behind him and set a comforting hand on his shoulder even as her field wrapped around him, supporting. Wing leaned into her, still staring out over the field. His gaze lingered on Dai Atlas, wondering what would happen once the blue triple changer's song ceased. Would Dai Atlas return to the Citadel, or would he try to fly back to Iacon?

He had the better part of a joor to wonder before the grief-filled sounds died down, gradually reduced to a silence that matched the stillness of the battlefield. Only one mecha stood, the giant that had been singing, and he was as still as the rest.

Slowly, Dai Atlas dragged himself out of his near-trance and looked around at the devastation he had wrought. He didn't truly see it though. It was just another battlefield for him; one of millions he'd seen in his long existence. It wasn't even a particularly large or grisly battle. He was looking for his mate's ax. Once he picked it up he walked slowly towards the Citadel, before pausing and lifting his gaze to the Sovereign.

Only when the leader of the Circle of Light nodded and bade him to return did Dai Atlas continue to them.

Wing was off the wall as fast as his engines could get him down. He landed a short distance from the blue mech and paused, watching Dai Atlas, looking for any signal that would indicate if it was safe to approach or if he should keep his distance. Slender white wings quivered against his back. "Dai?"

The giant knelt, his grief radiating off him still as fresh pain poured into his awareness from his very spark. He reached out, offering without demanding, and very much wanting to embrace the only connection he had left to the living.

With a soft keen, Wing threw himself forward, pressing himself against Dai Atlas' armor as if trying to melt into it. He wrapped his arms around Dai Atlas' neck, burying his face against a blue shoulder.

The fliers watching from the wall relaxed slowly, dropping back to the ground in ones and twos. The other Knights kept a respectful distance, watching in silence as one of their own grieved the loss of a long bonded mate.

"I'm sorry Wing," Dai Atlas whispered as he held his adoptive creation tightly.

The white jet purred very softly, tightening his hold on the larger mech. He hated having to cause his Initiate, the mech who had adopted him, so much pain.

Tornado circled around as unobtrusively as he could, joining Vanguard. "What happens now?" he asked softly, glancing at the Sovereign.

"We wait until we know how he intends to handle his loss," Vanguard answered quietly, his wings shifting uneasily.

Wing tilted his helm until his golden optics met dulled red. "Sorry for what?" One wing shifted on his back, rubbing against Dai Atlas' arm. Dark fingers hooked into the armor of the giant's upper back, clinging to the metal.

"I will be leaving after I say goodbye to his frame," Dai Atlas nearly choked on his words. "I can't do this again. Four is too much. I just can't."

The jet's grip tightened, Wing letting out a keen of distress. "Why leave? Where would you go? Why?"

"To Iacon, to challenge the Prime," he said simply. "To do something useful with my remaining orns."

Wing's grip was tight enough to dent regular armor. "No!" His audial fins flattened to the sides of his helm, gold optics staring directly into red. "Why would you have to bond again? No one demands it of you. There is no law or rule that says you have to bond." Wing's optics flared.

"My spark demands it," Dai Atlas sighed. "Even more than it demands the sky. I need the balance the bond brings me."

If Wing's wings hadn't been held down by the larger mech's arms, they would have been flaring out in distress. "Why?" The jet's field reached out, expressing his distress at the very idea of losing both a very good friend and the only family he had.

Dai Atlas replied in the same way, sharing just a fraction of what this pain was, of how weary and out of balance his spark was. He needed the youthful energy of a bondmate just to keep going and balance out the burden he carried from Primus as a gift.

Against Wing's back, his Great Sword thrummed, responding to its bearer's distress, hilt gem flaring bright blue. Wing keened softly, optics dimming. "I don't want you to go," he whispered. "The Circle will lose a promising Knight before he's had the chance to bond a Great Sword, and I will lose the mech I call 'creator'."

"You would have me exist a broken mech?" Dai Atlas forced Wing to look him in the optic.

Wing's jaw set stubbornly. "No," he admitted. "But I also don't want to lose you. You're the only real family I have."

"This is what battle is, what a warrior's existence means," Dai Atlas said gently as he attempted to disentangle himself enough to stand. "We all lose those important to us. It is the cycle of life."

Only with very great reluctance did Wing allow himself to be pried off, though he didn't let go entirely. His small dark hand clamped onto Dai Atlas' larger white one, clinging with all Wing's strength. His Initiate made no effort to dislodge this final contact. Indeed, he took strength from it for the walk to identify and deal with the funeral of his bonded, if Knights had funerals.

Wing had to jog to keep up with Dai Atlas' longer stride, but it was something he'd long since gotten used to. Other Knights got out of their way without a word, the crowd slowly dispersing to resume the normal life of the Citadel. The small white jet didn't look at anyone as he walked with Dai Atlas into the main building, toward the lift that led to the medical bay.

Redline was the one to greet them, his features grief-stricken and grim. "We did all we could," he apologized without explicitly lying.

"I know," Dai Atlas' voice was low, his field the unsteady grief-stricken one of a mech who's spark was crying for release from its prison of a frame. "I would say goodbye to his frame now."

"Dai Atlas ... he hadn't been repaired yet," Redline fidgeted in distress.

The shock that flickered across Dai Atlas' field and frame overwhelmed his grief for a moment.

Wing pressed his shoulder against Dai Atlas' leg, fingers tightening on the larger mech's hand. "There have probably been a lot of injured mechs to repair..."

"Why repair an empty shell?" the giant managed to stammer an explanation for his shock.

Redline stared up at Dai Atlas for a moment, shocked himself. "It's hard to say goodbye to a mangled frame, and interring one is not a peaceful rest. It's our way."

That was enough, and Dai Atlas inclined his helm in willing submission to the choice. If they wished to spend resources on an empty shell instead of recycling it because that was their way, he would not object. "I would still say goodbye as he is, and return his ax."

"We will contact you when we are finished," Redline told the larger mech.

Large white and blue wings flared with a flicker of anger driven by his spark's crying, only to settle once more in submission. "Very well," he said stiffly before picking a spot out of the way on one wall near the door where he wouldn't be in the way and wearily sank down with a low thud.

Redline nodded, watching the large triple changer and the small white jet with him, then returned to the room where Axe lay.

Wing still refused to let go of Dai Atlas' hand, waiting for the blue mech to settle before pressing against Dai Atlas' plating again. Not knowing what to say, he simply clung, trying not to keen. The young jet's unease only increased as he noted graying at the very edges of some armor plates, barely visible but there. Biting his glossa to keep from spilling anything, he pressed as close to blue armor as he could. Wing could not wait for this to be over.

Lightly Dai Atlas stroked Wing's back. Red optics powered down, relaxing into the numbness that was the fallout of the broken bond and using his gift. His training as a Knight had helped him greatly in a way. He hadn't used his gift to inflict pain in ages because he knew he would never survive experiencing all that at once himself. Yet the very training that allowed him to finish the song only prolonged his final pain.

It hurt more than anything to think that he might extinguish here, offering nothing to the future when his spark abandoned his frame.

Wing leaned into the touch, pulling his wings closer to his back plating. The Great Sword he carried thrummed as Dai Atlas' fingers brushed over the blade, Too Pure For This World's energy field pulsing briefly against the former General's.

The young jet could feel the agony in his Initiate's field, and hated himself for having helped cause it. Hunching his shoulders, he turned his helm and buried his face against Dai Atlas' armor, trembling all over.

"Shu, little one," Dai Atlas crooned, trying to comfort him with touch and voice. "It will be all right, Wing. Primus comes for us all. Axe expired doing his function, protecting his home, which he loved. I intend the same, if I am allowed."

A thin wail answered him, Wing's armor pulling tight to his frame in clear distress. Shifting, Wing all but crawled into Dai Atlas' lap, curling into a ball, still trembling as he was petted and softly reassured.

The pair remained there, Wing eventually prodded into accepting a cube of energon after Dai Atlas had surrendered to recharge. Redline couldn't meet his optics, his field sympathetic.

It wasn't until the night shift had come and gone that Hardwing emerged from the surgery, still smeared with energon and half a dozen other fluids that were never meant to be outside a mecha's body.

"Wing?" Hardwing called the Knight's designation, seeking to rouse him without coming within range of the giant he was curled against.

The white mech stirred, raising his helm and blinking in the direction of the voice. Realizing who it was, he slowly uncurled, bracing himself against Dai Atlas' torso. "Hardwing."

"The repairs are complete. He can see his mate now," the medic said tiredly. "I will be in the medical washrack if you need me."

Wing nodded, shifting against the larger mech's torso. "Dai." The white jet patted Dai Atlas' helm, gently shaking his shoulder and trying his best to ignore the edges of gray that were now quite obvious. "Dai."

A low, incoherent sound escaped the giant before his optics reluctantly powered up. It took a moment for recognition to settle and longer for Dai Atlas to nod. "Yes?"

"Hardwing came out, finally. He said you can go in now." Wing slid off Dai Atlas' lap, getting to his pedes. The amount of gray showing on blue and white and black armor made him choke off a keen before it could escape.

Dai Atlas nodded and reached back with the hand not holding his mate's ax to use the wall to help him stand, help he clearly needed. He stood, braced against the wall, until he felt steady enough to move. Then he walked forward, slow and steady, the movement taking much of his attention.

Wing hovered, watching, wingtips twitching. Being a third Dai Atlas' size and only a fraction of his mass, there was nothing he could do to help. He trotted at the larger mech's side, keeping an optic on his Initiate. The surgery hadn't been cleaned yet. The look and smell of fluids filled the scene, the dimmed lights didn't help.

Only one frame was there, the one mech they had lost. Axe's huge frame was rebuilt, it looked intact, unmarred by battle, but the gray color was so clearly wrong.

Dai Atlas let a sob escape, and gathered his strength to make the rest of the distance. It took both hands to lift the ax and rest the blade on Axe's chest. The effort to move Axe's arms so his fingers could be wrapped around the handle took longer, and by the time it was positioned to Dai Atlas' satisfaction the giant was grateful to sink to his knees next to the berth and rest his forehelm there.

Wing hung back, watching, his pinions and wings drooping. It was very hard to watch, to see how Dai Atlas carried himself. Biting his glossa to maintain his silence, the young jet stayed out of the way, letting the large blue mech have some space. After a few kliks of silence, his audials perked up on reflex as his Initiate began to speak. It only took a few words for him to realize that Dai Atlas was speaking, or perhaps singing, in Old Cybertronian.

That got Wing's attention. White audial fins flared out, pricking up as much as they could as he listened with curious interest. He couldn't understand a word of it; he only had a meager knowledge of Cybertron's ancient languages. This was not one he'd ever heard. Yet the cadence and sound was still fascinating. Perhaps he could get it translated sometime, if Dai Atlas didn't mind.

Abruptly the sounds stopped, leaving Dai Atlas simply staring at his mate. Wide, long wings moved up in a curious motion. Then the giant reached into his subspace for a cube of high grade and downed it quickly.

Despite the concentration, Wing had little doubt that it wouldn't even bring Dai Atlas up to full. Not after that battle.

Noting the curious wing flick, Wing blinked at the larger mech, making a curious sound. Still staying out of the way, Wing edged sideways a bit so he could see what was going on.

A second cube was consumed just as quickly, allowing Dai Atlas to move with his natural fluid grace. The ax was set with the blade on the floor and the long handle resting on the edge of the berth as Dai Atlas stood and stared. With methodical care and knowledge he manually opened Axe's chest plates.

White plating fluffed slightly. Wing's optics were fixed on Dai Atlas' every move. For orns he had been dreading what might happen when Dai Atlas found out what was going on. Moving slowly and carefully, the small white jet inched backward, closer to the wall. As far as he could tell, his Initiate was oblivious to him. He was far too fixed on the sight of his mate's brilliant, rich blue spark glowing inside a grayed frame.

Hands began to move, basic medical programming and generations' worth of familiarity with that spark and the systems that supported it guiding Dai Atlas to what did not belong. A low, feral growl of rage escaped Dai Atlas as he quickly removed the inhibitor and flung it across the room, crushing the device on impact.

White armor promptly clamped down to Wing's frame. He skittered backed as far as he could get, making sure he had a clear path to the door if he needed it. When his back clanked against the wall, Wing tried very hard to make himself part of that wall.

The noise was enough to draw Dai Atlas' attention and he whirled around, his wings flaring wide in a protective shield of the mate that was still unable to move. Deep red optics narrowed, locking onto Wing.

Wide, wary golden optics met red, but there was no blame in them and Dai Atlas relaxed slightly before turning back to his mate. Wing stayed where he was, not trusting that Dai Atlas' relative calm would hold. He had seen the depths of the larger mech's grief, and over the centuries he had learned how explosive Dai Atlas' temper could be.

It took Wing a breem or more to get his vocalizer to work. His voice was soft and cautious, and it actually squeaked when he spoke. "Dai?"

"Hardwing has explaining to do," his voice was low and cold, promising much pain for the medic. "That was a spark inhibitor."

The flinch and the squeak at that very loudly hinted that Wing himself had been expecting some of that promised pain. Wing inched a little farther away.

"Wing?" Dai Atlas turned his helm to look at his creation, his mentor, wanting desperately not to believe what he'd heard. Air huffed from Axe's vents as the black mech finished booting, blue optics coming online. His frame was still gray, displaying without doubt that it was done artificially.

The young white mech would not look Dai Atlas in the optic, wings tight to his back. That was as good as a shouted confession that he did have something to do with the situation.

"Why?" Dai Atlas' tone was pained, the betrayal one that went past anything he wished to punish Wing for.

"It wasn't my decision," Wing answered, looking down. "I hated my part in this. But it had to be done. There was no way around it."

Axe's fingers curled around Dai Atlas'. ~Dai. Don't hurt him.~

That snapped Dai Atlas around to face his mate with wide, shocked optics. ~You knew?~

~Wing arranged it with me,~ Axe confirmed, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position and making a face at his grayed plating. ~I knew what it would do to you. But it's a vital part of what we are now.~

"Hazing," Dai Atlas sighed, resigned to the fact that some things never changed. "So be it."

Wing's wings and pinions flared. "All Initiates must face one final major trial when they reach the transition phase. You, Dai Atlas, have reached that stage where you are in the process of transitioning from Initiate to full Knight. I had to go through it, you just went through it, Axe will have to go through it. Though it's going to be harder on Atl now that Axe knows what's coming at him. Normally the Initiate has no idea they are being tested until the trials are over. But then, it has been a very long time since a bonded pair was trained at the same time."

"What purpose does this trial serve?" Dai Atlas asked, still spark-weary and beginning to feel the effects of protocols he hadn't known in a long time.

"A test of training, of control, of dedication to the Order. To make sure an Initiate is ready to become a Knight. It is the last great challenge they have to face as an Initiate." Wing finally looked up, meeting Dai Atlas' optics. The look in golden optics indicated just how much Wing hated what he'd had to do. He met the dull red optics of a mech that had surrendered in a way; a look of great disappointment.

"Wing. When is one of us expected somewhere?" Dai Atlas' voice was as tired as his appearance, but the grip on Axe as he helped his mate stand spoke of the strength he still had in him.

"Not for some orns. Exactly how many, I don't know." The look in Dai Atlas' optics made Wing shrink in on himself, his own optics dimming with guilt. "But not anytime soon."

"Good," Dai Atlas said as he all but pulled Axe towards the surgery door.

Wing scooted out of arm's reach, watching the pair leave before following them out. He kept his distance as they made their way to the quarters the pair shared with their Daoshi. Along the way, Knights who weren't in-the-know stopped and stared at Axe, taking in the very-much-alive triple changer and the paint the color of death. Axe ignored all of them, leaning against his mate's shoulder.

Once the trio reached their quarters, Wing skirted around the two larger mechs and vanished into his own room.

~I'm sorry, love,~ Axe murmured.

~I know,~ he sighed, leaning in as well as he guided Axe to the washrack. ~I will regret whatever part I will play in your hazing.~

Axe rested his helm briefly on Dai Atlas' shoulder, sending affection through the bond. Blue optics ran over the larger triple changer's frame, narrowing slightly as he noted the still-visible gray on the plate edges. ~Are you all right?~

~No,~ Dai Atlas admitted as he turned on the solvent spray. ~After you were gone, I sang to share my grief, my gift.~

Axe stared at him, armor fluffing. ~You... what?~ He stepped under the solvent spray, not taking his optics off his mate. ~How many?~

~Almost all,~ Dai Atlas picked up a stiff brush and a shampoo with abrasives for stripping paint. ~There might have been a score that didn't end themselves.~

The usually black and gold mech took Dai Atlas' hand, knowing what kind of toll the larger mech's gift took on his mate, even though he himself had never witnessed it. Leaning forward to sneak a kiss that was returned with relief and welcome, he flared his armor, presenting it for the gray paint to be stripped. He could feel their bond thrumming with the need to merge and reestablish itself after the inhibitor, but he could also feel his mate's desperate need to get the death-gray off.

Strong hands scrubbed hard, a harsh sensation as the alien color was stripped off. Hardline had done a good job. It was not an easy layer to remove, but gradually death-gray was stripped down to natural metal.

Axe sighed in relief as the gray paint came off, exposing the bare metal underneath. He'd seen far too much of the real thing, and was only too glad to get it off his frame. As more and more of the gray came off, Axe started to purr very softly.

"Soon," Dai Atlas leaned in for a kiss before kneeling to work on Axe's legs. "Soon. I feel it as much as you do."

Axe returned the kiss, watching his mate, reaching out to lightly stroke over the center crest of Dai Atlas' helm. "Won't be soon enough for me, my love."

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

When Wing darted into his room, he wasn't expecting anyone to be there, much less for it to be Atl lounging on his berth.

"As soon as they're in the washrack, you're coming to my room," Atl said with a simple firmness that expected no argument.

The small jet nodded, venting a massive sigh. His wings drooped behind him as he sat next to Atl on the berth. "That was one of the worst things I have ever gone through, if not the worst."

"You did well though, and Vanguard is very pleased with how he reacted," Atl said with a softer tone and hugged his friend. "He remained rational through the entire event. That is an amazing accomplishment."

Wing leaned into the embrace, his optics dimming. "I might have done well, but I hated it. I could see Dai's plating turning gray. And I'm not sure I'll be welcome anywhere in his immediate vicinity anytime soon."

"He'll recover now, once his spark is whole again," Atl hugged him before gently pulling Wing to his pedes. "Come on. Let's get in my tub. Give them some time to recover. Once his penance is done and he's bonded to his own Great Sword he'll forgive you. I'm sure of it."

Wing poked his helm out to make sure the two large mechs were nowhere in sight before following Atl over to the taller grounder's room, keeping Atl's frame between himself and the Initiates' room. "I hope so."

"You've never been this uncertain before," Atl glanced back at his friend as the door to his quarters slid closed behind them. "What happened to my friend that always felt he could make something work out?"

Wing rubbed a hand over his face. "It's been a very bad orn. A lot to process."

"I don't doubt it," Atl said gently and tugged Wing to the deep hot oil pool he'd surrendered a fair chunk of his spare space to. It was large enough for two mecha his size, and he settled into the hot oil with a pleasured groan. "You'll feel better after some recharge and meditation, just like they will when their bond is restored and they're rested."

"Might take more than just normal meditation," the smaller mech admitted. "I might need you to help me with a binding." A rough purr escaped as he sank to his lower lip in the hot oil, flaring his armor and letting the welcome heat into every crevice.

"You know I'll be there for you," Atl said sincerely. "Whenever you are ready ... but please recharge with me first. It's been a long few orns."

The jet smiled at him. "Thank you. And yes, it has been. I really don't feel like recharging alone tonight."

"I don't doubt it," Atl said with clear understanding. "You won't have to. I'm just about in the same place you are with Axe."

"Axe is on to us now... That's not going to make it any easier." Wing shifted, flaring one wing under the hot oil and fluttering it to get the oil into all the joints. "Couldn't be helped, though."

"He knows it's coming, but not what form it will take. I'll be very surprised if he realizes his trial before it is over," he settled deeper into the hot oil with another pleasured sound. "That we don't need his mate's collusion will help as well."

"That is true." Wing folded the first wing and stretched out the other, the surface of the oil rippling as the appendage fluttered underneath. He was relaxing in the welcome heat, a tiny purr escaping.

"You're welcome in my berth as long as you need the company," Atl said. "Assuming that Thorn doesn't collect you soon," he teased about Wing's first and most regular lover.

Wing let out a slightly weak chuckle. "Considering that now I'm used to cuddling with not one but two larger mechs, if I'm in here when he comes looking I might pull him in with us."

"As long as you don't pull Dart into the berth, you know I won't mind," Atl laughed easily, causing the shimmering oil to ripple around him.

That got a stronger chuckle. "I haven't been with Dart for vorns. Besides, he's smaller than I am. I'm used to larger mechs."

"You are such a size queen," Atl snickered. "Only you would think taking Dai Atlas was a good idea."

"He was very careful with me, and it was an incredible experience," the white jet retorted. "We only did that once, though. I found out later on that both he and Axe had pretty much adopted me."

"Worth the loss of those spikes?" Atl asked, both teasing and honestly curious.

"I've only regretted it a little." Wing grinned over at the red mech. He was behaving more like his old self, though the new problem that plagued him was still lurking under the surface and they both knew it.

"You never did say how you found out," Atl prodded, knowing it was a bright moment in Wing's existence.

"I'd dropped into recharge curled up on Dai Atlas' chest, was woken up by a shift in the warmth. Found out I'd been moved onto the berth while they were getting busy." Wing grinned at the memory. "They are very hot together. After they were finished, I was wound up enough to have very willingly taken either of them. Dai Atlas told me that they wouldn't be doing that anymore because they had adopted me as their creation, and they didn't interface with their creations. That revelation blew any thoughts of interfacing right out of my processor."

"Wow, I didn't think anything could do that," Atl grinned, his field expressing how pleased he was for his friend. "No wonder you were floating on clouds for orns."

"Even they were teasing me about it," Wing added, optics glowing brightly. "They hadn't seen anymech that bouncy in a long time."

"I don't think anyone has," Atl grinned even more. "You cost a lot on the betting pool that you'd finally fallen helm over pedes in love. It's a good look on you, by the way."

Wing made a face. "Not yet, I haven't. Maybe someday, and I hope what I find is similar to what Dai and Axe have." He lifted am optic rim at Atl. "Betting pool?"

"Well, when you started acting like you'd lost your processor in the best way, more than a few Knights bet that you'd found your one like you're always going on about wanting."

Wing shook his helm. "I haven't found my one yet." Folding his wings, he sidled around the tub to lean against Atl's shoulder.

A strong arm slid around him to draw him closer and Atl nuzzled him. "You will. He's out there somewhere and Primus will cross your paths."

The white jet returned the nuzzle, adding a purr. "I certainly hope so. But it may take a long time."

"Or they may stumble to our door tomorrow," Atl kissed Wing's audial fin, his field questioning if Wing wanted to interface or simply relax.

Wing turned into the kiss, nipping at Atl's lower lip. "True. We'll have to wait and see." One hand wandered down Atl's chestplate, tracing the contours of the red grounder's armor. A low hum of pleasure greeted the attention and Atl replied with a hand along Wing's near wing before drawing the smaller mech into his lap.

Wing eagerly settled onto Atl's lap, wings pressing into the red mech's hands. He deepened the kiss, hands heading for the most sensitive spots in reach, mostly along Atl's collar. The red mech moaned deeply and focused on the slender wings and where they attached to Wing's back. The heat of the oil increased their internal temperature and made the slide of plating all the more sensual.

White wings flared out to their full span, exposing the joints and seams and the control surfaces. A deep purr threaded into the kiss as the joins of wing to back were touched, Wing rubbing himself against Atl's plating, shifting his hips against the red mech's.

Atl broke the kiss to nibble along Wing's throat, teasing cables and tubing. "Tell me what you want," he demanded with a deep rumble.

"You." Wing leaned his helm back to give Atl more access to his throat, sliding his fingers into the seams of red armor. One hand wandered down between them to stroke over Atl's spike cover, tracing the rim teasingly. It slid back smoothly, exposing the spike housing and the tip poking out to Wing's wandering fingers.

"You'll have me," Atl moaned and dug his fingers into wing joints, his denta sliding down a main energon line in Wing's throat.

Wing let out a soft mew, his fingers dipping into Atl's spike housing, stroking over the tip of the red mech's spike. His wings shivered slightly. The white jet's valve cover slid open, a shiver running up and down his back as the hot oil caressed the sensitive platelets.

Atl's hands slid down Wing's back as his spike responded to the touch, pressurizing and expanding into the hot oil and skilled fingers. He squeezed Wing's aft and guided him forward to settle Atl's spike at the entrance to Wing's valve. White hips shifted, settling into place above Atl's spike, wiggling to rub the tip of the grounder's spike against the soft platelets. Wing moaned at the sensation, leaning forward to apply his own lips and glossa to the elegant lines of Atl's helm.

With a slow, smooth movement Atl guided Wing's hips down, gradually forcing the oil out of the cavity as his spike pressed inward, stretching the jet gently. Wing moaned softly, his valve calipers rippling against Atl's spike. Dark fingers slid into armor seams, one hand lifting to work into the red mech's shoulder armor.

"You feel good," Atl moaned as he settled fully hilted inside his friend. His hands moved up Wing's back to the wing joints while he continued to mouth Wing's throat.

Wing mumbled something unintelligible, wings stretching out to their full span. He tilted his helm slightly to the side, shifting his hips over Atl's and rubbing the red grounder's spike against the sensor nodes lining the jet's valve. In reply Atl rolled his hips upward, driving the tip against the thick clusters of sensors at the end of Wing's valve.

A moan escaped the white jet. Wing trembled for a moment, then began to move his hips over Atl's, the hot oil rippling around them. Gold optics dimmed as the white mech concentrated on what he was doing and the pleasure they generated for each other. He was never shy for pleasure and right now the sensuous slide and pressure was even more welcome than usual.

Atl's field wrapped around him, pulsed inside him and meshed with his own to share the rapidly building pleasure-charge.

The sound Wing made was half soft cry and half mew. His own hands worked their way over Atl's frame, going directly for the seams and gaps hiding the most sensitive circuitry. He picked up the pace, merging his field with Atl's, tilting his helm to nip along the grounder's helm crest.

A deep, resonant groan escaped Atl as his hands moved down to Wing's hips once more to assist in his thrusts, pulling the jet down as he thrust up. Electricity began to dance along their frames, charging the oil they were in as well as jumping directly across the small gaps between their frames.

Wing vented heavily, moaning softly into each thrust, wingtips trembling as the building charge prickled along his sensor net and nipped at his systems. Leaning his helm down, he caught Atl's lips in a fiery kiss as the building charge broke over him. That was enough to tip Atl over the limit and he shuddered, moaning into the kiss as his overload triggered a hot rush of transfluid into Wing's valve. It wasn't as warm as the oil, but it was thick and heavily charged when it crashed into the sensitive nodes at the top of the valve.

Wing keened into the kiss, his hands briefly tightening on red armor, his hips bucking against Atl's. White wings trembled as the cascading excess charge locked up his frame for a few kliks. Once his frame unlocked, Wing leaned against Atl, resting his helm against a red shoulder, disinclined to move as Atl stroked his back.

SXSXSXSXSXSXSXSX S===================S SXSXSXSXSXSXSXS

Wing peeked out of his room, checking to make sure the coast was clear before easing out and heading for the washrack. It was early, too early for anyone but the real morning mechs to be up and about voluntarily. This was one of the few times of the orn that Wing could use the washrack without running into either Dai Atlas or Axe. Since the end of Dai Atlas' final trial, the white jet had all but turned into a ghost when the two large triple changers were around, visible as a quick flicker of white before he disappeared from sight. He had been actively avoiding them for some orns now, fearing that the relationship he'd had with them had been damaged beyond repair.

The coast was clear. Sighing to himself, Wing slipped into the washrack, heading for the rack built to accommodate his frame. The hot solvent was a welcome rain, washing off the remains of the lubricant and transfluid from the night before as he lost himself in Thorn's embrace. He wasn't immune to the looks he received at his continued odd behavior, especially when they began to come from Vanguard. He couldn't help it though. His binding meditation had brought him to terms with what he needed to deal with, he wasn't afraid of the giants anymore, he didn't feel guilty about doing what had to be done. Yet it had done little to ease the way his spark cried at what he was sure he had lost. The pain would not fester now, but it was far from done.

His back to the washrack door, Wing picked up a brush and began scrubbing his plating, getting rid of the streaks of black marring his white finish, flaring his armor to get at all of it. The young jet was oblivious to his surroundings, completely sure it was too early for anyone else to be up and moving. All his attention was on what he was doing.

He didn't even notice the shadow pass over the washrack room door or the steps of a large mech coming up quietly behind him.

"You've been avoiding me," a deep, rich voice rolled over his entire frame.

Wing jumped, dropping the brush as he whirled, staring up at the large mech who had appeared behind him. "Dai Atlas!"

The jet had been calling the larger mech by his full designation rather than either of the shortened variations since the trial had ended, something he hadn't done in vorns.

"Yes. You've been avoiding me," Dai Atlas said as he knelt to be more on optic level with the mech he considered his creation.

The jet shifted his feet, dropping his gaze briefly. "I wasn't sure I was still welcome around you," he admitted.

A huge finger tipped Wing's chin up. "I think I would like to have words with those who ordered you built," he rumbled with a displeased flick of long wings. "You did as you were ordered to do. I do not fault you for that."

Golden optics blinked up into red. "I wasn't sure. Necessary or not, the trial caused you a great deal of pain." A faint smile appeared on the jet's face. "If you ever do manage to catch up with those who ordered my sparking, can I watch?"

"You never tried to find out," Dai Atlas said with a distinct note of disapproval. "And yes, if I catch them, you can watch."

Wing cringed slightly. "I was as much of a mess as you were. Having had to put you through that left me with so much guilt... And the fear that I had lost the only family I have was just making things worse. I finally got Atl to help me with a binding while you were undergoing your penance."

"That was over orns ago," Dai Atlas frowned. "You are our creation, Wing. I realize you have little grasp of what that means and no reason to figure it out. You could have at least tried to have a meal with us and feel the situation out if you couldn't simply ask."

Wing's optics dropped, the young jet shuffling his pedes slightly. After a moment of indecision, he eased closer to the larger mech. "I'm sorry."

"Now, is that all of why you've been hiding?" Dai Atlas lifted an optic ridge.

"Yeah." Wing looked away for a moment, turning off the forgotten shower. White armor fluffed out, wings wiggling to shake off droplets of solvent. Turning back to Dai Atlas, he cautiously stepped forward, leaning against the larger mech's chestplate.

"Then come and snuggle," Dai Atlas scooped Wing up, much as he had that first night alone after Axe had become an Initiate. "We've missed your warmth."

Wing purred softly, curling into Dai Atlas' arms and cuddling into his chest, letting his optics dim as he rested his helm against the larger mech's plating. He barely noticed when Dai Atlas stood up again.

Axe lifted his helm as his mate returned, blue optics dimly lit, the black mech barely awake. A rumble of welcome left his vocalizer as his recharge-hazed optics caught the white shape in Dai Atlas' arms. Wing trilled in happy response as Dai Atlas knelt on the berth and settled down, curling to put Wing between him and Axe while still allowing plenty of contact with his mate.

"Silly jetling," Axe murmured as he powered down again, content to recharge the rest of the morning. "You're our creation."

The young jet responded with an apologetic chirp, settling into the welcome feeling of two warm frames against him. Resting his helm against blue armor, Wing settled into recharge. A bare klik later, he was purring.