The moment the quiet scrape sounded in the dark, Sideswipe's frame was jolted from recharge. his spark began to thrum in his chest, battle programming immediately at full function.
Still prone and with optics shuttered, he allowed a limp arm to hover over the side of his pallet to finger the hilt end of a blade.
Silence.
Somewhere far away, a fight sounded. Normal, for this time in the cycle.
his internal chronometer rolled, marking the kliks as they spun by, but no other audio interference made it to his.
he counted, silent and restless, careful not to allow his fans to kick in from the strain.
Then, there was a motion in the air.
Even with sensors so finely tuned from the decavorns, he had heard nothing as the intruder approached, even with the unstable ground littered with trash and debris; but he hadn't survived so long in the ruins without sharpening his instincts.
He cycled his optics.
Upon scanning the figure, however, he immediately relaxed.
::Geez, Sunny, you scared the slag out of me.::
The other mech snorted.
::Serves you right for recharging alone.::
He knelt at the end of the berth and pulled aside a square of oxidized paneling. Curious, Sideswipe leaned over to watch.
he saw his open his subspace and withdraw several grayed boxish objects, but no cubed fuel.
his tanks ground painfully, but he didn't say anything to his twin. Now that he'd opened the bond again, he knew exactly how painfully aware he was of the shortage.
::Hey,:: he rumbled, soothing. ::We're not doing too bad. The preprocessed 'll last another vorn; We'll load up and then go out together.::
::I'm sick of this slag:: spat Sunstreaker, jerking violently. ::Fragging preprofuel? What are we even doing, Sideswipe?::
Sideswipe didn't move. Instead, he allowed his twin's pain wash over his frame, feeling his shame and anger at the universe for putting them in this pit..
::We're going to be okay,:: Sideswipe whispered.
his brother choked on a laugh.
::Yeah. Yeah, sure we will.::
The mech slid in to lean across a ruined cabinet and appeared to dissolve into deep thought.
Sideswipe didn't move. he cycled, hating the way Sunny's plating began to tremble, sad that there wasn't anything he could do.
Through a crack in the ceiling, a stray shimmer of starlight illuminated the barest edge of the mech's plating. For a moment, it revealed a slip of worn yellow, shimmering even through a blanket of dents, scratches, and welds.
Sideswipe shifted uncomfortably in position.
White optics glinted, acknowledging the motion, but the mech said nothing.
Sideswipe sighed.
::C'mere, Sunny.::
Slowly, the mech retracted his visor and began to stand.
A moment later, a warm pressure joined Sideswipe. he reached up and stroked smooth finials in response.
::We're going to be fine,:: he insisted again. ::We're going to finish this shift, then we'll get the frag off of 'con turf, and then we'll kick Petrol's skid plates for making us cover his shift."
A pause. Then, "We're not all alone anymore."
Static buzzing swelled behind his twin's chest.
::No,:: he felt him whirr, ::No, we're not.::
::And even if we were, we've always got us.::
Sideswipe felt a swat on his helm.
::You sappy fragger.::
He chuckled lowly.
::G'nite, Sunny.::
::You'll stay online this time?:: he checked.
::Yeah.::
::You'd better.::
Slowly, his vents stilled. Sideswipe watched his brother slip into recharge, then finally still completely for defrag.
We'll be fine, he repeated to himself.
Somehow, it tasted like a lie.
Sunstreaker winced at his brother's pain.
Once again, the humid wave of heat blanketing Sideswipe swam out into his twin's awareness. The other mech frowned, concerned, but was unable to voice his worries; there were far to many hostile fields in the room for that.
::You're too sick for this,:: he slipped under the bond. ::They shouldn't be making you come.::
The red mech swayed lightly in his stance, looking to all the world like a simple 'con communications mech fighting off recharge. Inwardly, however, Sunstreaker could feel a miserable foggy heat clouding inside the other's chassis.
::Yeah,:: Sides' admitted. ::But it's not like we have any other options.::
The phrase, 'Decepticon bastards' was heavily implied.
The yellow twin released a sardonic huff.
::We could gut high commander,:: he offered flatly. ::I'd like to take a look under that shiny protoform.::
That elicited a pained snort from Sunstreaker's side. It was a tired sound, like a laugh that didn't quite have the energy to drag itself up to be heard.
Still, he'd take what he could get. The attempt wasn't made nearly often enough the these days.
::Save a piece for me, fragger.::
The younger mech was just about to put out a teasing sound when a harsh, grating hiss cut him short.
"Oi! Lock down on the mindspeak, bi-scrap!"
The two mechs snarled in tandem, displeased at the interruption.
::Speak of the spawn,:: Sideswipe griped.
Ignorant to or perhaps regardless of the continued bond-speak, Commander Firewall restarted what had been the opening of their mission briefing.
Around them, a crowd of over sixty trained groundmecha stood attentive and alert for their orders, oddly complacent contrary to their rowdy Deception reputation. Stereotype aside, the Deceptions were still what could loosely be defined as soldiers. Loosely, mind. But hey.
Even ragtag thugs had to know when to listen.
Those who couldn't didn't make it far.
Once again, Firewall's scratchy voice broke through Sunstreaker's thoughts with his militarian spiel.
"Alright mecha, listen up!"
As if they weren't already standing at attention.
Sideswipe snickered, having overheard his brother's flippant thought. The immature scraplet.
"You all know what we're here for!" Firewall proceeded. "Get in, get out. Short and sweet like your last frag. Stick with your unit, don't frag up the comm lines."
::Eloquent as ever,:: Sideswipe noted.
Sunstreaker shushed him, knowing that their afthead commander was giving out important information. Primus, he hoped Sides'wasn't in Hobnob's unit.
He tuned his audials in anticipation.
"Team Turbo, you will be getting the princess. Team Rotor, you're stuck with twinkle toes over here."
Sunstreaker's plates bristled. Princess, that was him. It looked as if 'Sides was stuck with the Hobnob- the horny slagger- for another mission. Responsive to the revelation, he could feel his brother's plating crawl.
::He smells,:: the red twin growled. ::And he's huge.::
::We'll kill him later,:: Sunstreaker placated. Truth be told, he wanted the mech dead twice as much as his sibling did, but they needed to be alert for the excursion ahead of them. Unfortunately.
Unbidden memory clips rose of bulky green servos that itched dangerously close to cherry hips, and a chrome smirk with a few too many scratched denta to look sane.
He shivered, and pushed the unpleasant images into a dark corner for the time being. Someday he'd twist those digits off one phalange at a time- then they'd see how eager he was to reach for other mech's afts.
"Now," the unit Leander's vocals rose to a shout, "If you don't know what group you're in, don't bother finding out. Scrap-ended little pit stains like you will not be coming home. You will not be missed, you will not be rescued. If you are a liability, you will be left behind. Speaking of,"
A greying, welded-up arm swung suddenly around to point in the brother's direction.
"You see either of these primus-damned pit-birthed freaks of the Vector disobeying a direct order, I want a fragging acid pellet between the other's eyes immediately. Do I make myself clear?"
A chorus of "Yes, unit commander"'s rang out, but molten-scrap optics remained locked onto the pair in a warning gaze. They all knew what it meant. "Stay in your place".
Or shut down with time to regret it.
There was no need to tell them twice. They had no great love for their enemy.
Sunstreaker eyed his brother carefully. He was still upright, which was impressive at the rate his frame was heating, but he canted at an angle, and the way those fans were starting to whine worried him.
He took a deep intake.
::I want you to stay out of the fight.::
The lack of argument only doubled his concerns.
The crowd was dispersing around them, filing into the assigned groups. Soon, he was pulled away by one of his handlers.
::Sideswipe. Stay out of the battle.:: he called. He quickly lost sight of the red helm, but he sensed he was still close, just to his left, in a small cluster boarding a separate armored shuttle.
Finally, a reply was received, faint and staticky.
::Kick some autobot aft for me, 'kay sunny?::
He sighed.
::Sure thing, fragger.::
What he heard next was close to a laugh; a real, primus-blessed laugh, of all things; and as he himself was shoved towards his own boarding ramp he wished desperately for just another moment of it.