Off the Ground

Author's Notes: First of all, I'd like to apologize for how long this took to get out. I hope to never have that happen again.

The term 'cogsucker' is being borrowed from Cinderburster, because Siders couldn't resist. My thanks go to Seienchan for betaing this chapter (all remaining errors are mine own). The shuttle's name is being borrowed from IDW (though with good reason X3)

Sideswipe pounced, launching himself from one set of wings to another. His previous playmate shrieked at him, swearing and shooting. Prowl's voice rang through the comm channel, directing him to head off Dirge's strafing run. That would take the last of his rocket fuel reserves. He communicated the fact to the second-in-command as he ripped into Thundercracker's cockpit, pulling out a handful of wires and circuitboards.

Prowl had probably just grounded the rocketeer in his onboard simulator. It amused the warrior that, for all that his lover professed to lack an imagination, he had the capacity to play his tactics out like one of his beloved board games.

He activated his jet pack, kicking away from the blue F-15 and leaving two large dents in the wedge-shaped wings. Thundercracker was down for the count. The wind whistled past the red twin's audio horns as he plummeted toward the other blue jet, and he tackled Dirge, grappling him away from the already damaged landing strip. He realized, as he clung to the bucking jet, that Prowl had never acknowledged his communication. He wrestled the Seeker around until he faced Prowl's last position.

"Sideswipe, repeat your last transmission, please." Trailbreaker's voice broke through the static that had filled the secure channel.

Prowl was nowhere in sight. "This is the last of my rocket fuel. I'm gonna be crashing this 'Con." Where the frag had Prowl gone? But he couldn't ask Trailbreaker, it would be too suspicious.

"Direct him toward the Constructicons. Stop them from joining."

Sideswipe snarled at the conehead, wrenching him around and down. He headed for the merging gestalt, aiming to plow the Seeker into the torso. "Sunny! What the slag were you doing" Sideswipe shouted over a private line.

"What the frag are you on about?" The golden Lamborghini was stomping at the cassettes trying to swarm over him.

"Weren't you supposed to be covering Prowl?"

Silence, interrupted by bursts of static filtered through the comm.

Devastator loomed, large and ugly, in Sideswipe's sights. He braced himself for impact.

Sunlight glinting on metal caught his peripheral vision, and he spared a glance to his right. Another jet rolled away from the large hand. It righted itself and roared toward Sideswipe.

"Grab on!"

The red twin let go and grabbed the passing wings, dangling from the dropping aircraft. An explosion shook his circuits, tossing the unbalanced F-4 forward.

They plowed into the ground, skidding and spinning, throwing up dirt in their wake. Metal crunched and buckled as Sideswipe flipped onto his back, wrenching gears and servos. He didn't want to imagine what it did to the lighter mech.

He didn't have time to lay there. He rolled to his knees, placing his position on the battlefield. Decepticons surrounded him, some exchanging fire with the Autobots, a few leering down at the Autobots in their midst.

Sideswipe glared back. Aw frag, behind Decepticreep lines. Just where he'd always wanted to be. He would be fine, by himself, but Fireflight hadn't stirred a servo yet.

He slowly moved a hand toward the Phantom's bent wing, nudging gently. "'Flight?"

"They're all looking at us, Sides," came the youth's shaky reply. The upside-down airplane shuddered nervously.

A smirk played on Sideswipe's lips. "Tend to do that when they've got perfectly good hostages. Or so they think. Wanna prove these cogsuckers wrong?" His tense gaze never left the sneering triplechangers' faces. Four burnt and battered Constructicons had joined them, none of them looking all that pleased.

"Um… yes?"

Sideswipe threw himself at the two triplechangers, shouting nonsense into their audio receivers. The whine of engines powering up marked Fireflight's intent. The shriek of metal dragging over rock briefly over-powered the thrusters' roar. The Aerialbot barreled through the Constructicons, transforming and skidding on his feet into a turn. Energon and smoke leaked out of the rents on his back as he paused only briefly before transforming again, burning the grass with the force of his thrusters.

Sideswipe climbed Astrotrain's front, leaping from the shuttle's nose to latch onto the damaged wings again. He felt one of the Decepticon's hands grab hold of his foot and he kicked out, crying out at sudden, and intense pain.

A low flying concorde opened fire. Powerglide flew alongside the Aerialbot commander. The guns of the A-10 on Silverbolt's left whirred on, and the minibot slowed down from the strength of his own guns. The two Autobot jets veered off, coming around to strafe the Decepticons again.

"I don't think I can stay up," Fireflight moaned on an open channel. The F-4 was dropping altitude at an alarming rate, his damaged wings shuddering with the effort of holding them up for this long.

"Sideswipe," Trailbreaker paused in issuing orders to direct his attention at the Lamborghini, "can you bring Fireflight to Ratchet?"

A sudden burst of static broke through Trailbreaker's transmission. "This is theXantium, requesting clearance to enter Earth Air Space."

Prime answered. "Permission granted, Xantium. Welcome to Earth, Ultra Magnus."

Sideswipe braced his legs as Fireflight continued his fight to remain aloft. Silverbolt and Powerglide had already left to clear a path for the incoming ship.

The unit commander didn't waste words on pleasantries, but another voice broke through. "The Decepticons have rolled out the welcome mat. Permission to engage once we burn through?" There was no denying that voice: Springer.

Ultra Magnus spoke before Optimus could. "Denied. Stay at your station, soldier."

"I'll get him to Ratchet, 'Breaker," the red twin agreed, during a break in transmissions..

The strategist acknowledged and his attention turned elsewhere.

" 'Flight cut your engines as soon as I'm on the ground." Sideswipe's heels skimmed the tall grass. "I've got you."

Fireflight didn't acknowledge, but an astrosecond after Sideswipe's feet touched the ground running, the jet's engines whined down. He stumbled to the ground, under several tons of jet. He did manage to keep the Aerialbot from further damage, but he couldn't place his weight on one of his legs. He glanced down, hissing in pain as he saw the shredded remains of his foot and ankle.

"Can you transform? It'd help." His hands loosened their grip on the jet as the Aerialbot engaged his transformation sequence. When Fireflight locked, midtransformation, Sideswipe forced him the rest of the way, unable to stand seeing the young bot so distorted.

Fireflight staggered to his feet, only able to stand fully when Sideswipe ducked under his arm, taking a great deal of weight off his legs.

"Come on, kid, let's get you to the Doc." He limped quickly, aware of the targeting systems being directed his way. The walking wounded all but carried large 'Shoot me!' signs on their backs. Sideswipe had faith in his comrades that they would cover both him and Fireflight. A faith not unfounded as the three remaining airborne Aerialbots (Air Raid had been shot down earlier in the battle) ran an explosive run over the Decepticon ranks.

"He stalled." Sunstreaker's unusually quiet voice reminded Sideswipe of his reason for going to Ratchet.

"He what?" Fireflight moaned as Sideswipe came to an abrupt stop. He staggered on his bad leg, catching sight of the energon that trailed behind them, though whether it came from Sideswipe or Fireflight was uncertain.

"He just shut down all of a sudden."

A mass of orange smudged the blue sky. The battle would soon be over. Megatron wouldn't stay when the Xantium came within firing range.

Sideswipe set off at a brisk pace, all but dragging Fireflight along. He stumbled into a more appropriate pace as he entered the airfield-turned-medical-camp. Ratchet looked up, his optics sliding along their two frames as he scanned them for damage. "Get in line."

Sideswipe's gaze flicked over the wounded. He nodded at Bluestreak as he set Fireflight down. He locked onto the black and white form of his lover.

"Where the frag do you think you're going? Get. In. Line." The CMO glared lasers at the red twin.

"What? Why? I can still stand in the firing line." From here he could see that Prowl was still offline.

First Aid quietly pointed toward the upper left corner of his chestplate.

Burns smattered the tactician's still body and dents dulled his armor, but Sideswipe couldn't see anything horribly wrong.

He tore his gaze from the tactician.

In the distance Megatron called his retreat as the Xantium turned its guns.

Oh, when did that happen?

Bits and pieces of metal and burnt wires slowly tumbled out of a gaping hole near his shoulder. The adjacent tire was shredded, useless.

Now that it had been brought to his attention, his sensors deemed it ready to be felt. Oh, Primus. That hurt.

Prowl came online with a start, staring at the frowning medic hovering over him. A red finger poked his shoulder tire. "The Xantium's landed. Prime wants you there to greet the crew. But don't lift. One. Slagging. Thing. You and I will be having a nice long talk about what happened when we get back to base."

Prowl sat up, nodding. He didn't ask what happened, his diagnostics told him quite clearly that he had fallen into a sudden recharge. Looks like Ratchet finally caught up to him. He met the medic's gaze. "Am I free to go?"

Ratchet narrowed his optics. "Get."

The tactician made his way over to Trailbreaker, meeting the black mech's concerned gaze with a smile.

"Primus, it's good to see you up and about." He extended a datapad and Prowl accepted it graciously. "You scared the frag us, collapsing like you did."

The datapad held a list of injured and the collateral damage, lost wages from lack of business while their landing strip was repaired. He ignored the other scenario in his tactical system that showed what would have happened had the Autobots not intervened on the humans' behalf. The Xantium alone would have been enough of a deterrent once it came within firing range, but by then the airfield would have been so much slag . The little creatures rarely processed things in a logical manner, and refused to listen to any such argument.

He scanned the list of injured and found Sideswipe's name. He'd expected that since he recalled Sideswipe's last status report, just before his systems went offline. He frowned as he saw that the Lamborghini would require assistance back to base so that he might have his leg rebuilt. Apparently a lucky shot had also ruptured one of his main fuel lines. Another report told him that Fireflight had diverted Sideswipe's run into Devastator.

Why the frag had Sideswipe done such a suicidal thing? Prowl was going to terminate that maniac!

The Xantium's engines hummed as they wound down. Heat rolled off the ship's hull, steam and smoke whirled from nooks and crannies. Prowl knew that protocol dictated the crew finish placing the craft on standby before they disembarked.

Optimus cast a concerned glance toward his second-in-command. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I am functioning within normal parameters."

The flash of his optics gave away Prime's disbelief. "As long as Ratchet released you."

"He did."

A low rumble sounded from Prime's engine, and the Autobot commander moved to join his troops.

A small contingent of humans dressed in uniform waited off to the side. Spike waited with the Autobots, his clothing pressed and hair neat. Prowl noted the exhausted circles under his eyes. He'd always heard that human sparklings demanded much of their creators. Prowl paused by Spike with a soft query after his wife and child.

Spike smiled, tired but proud as he blinked dazedly. "Daniel's been keeping Carly up half the night. He's got some kind of stomach virus. She was hoping to be here, but…" he trailed off, shaking his head at the circumstances.

The tactician nodded and proceeded down to the head of the line, where Optimus patiently waited.

Air hissed as the seal on the door broke and the hatch opened, lowering to form a ramp.

The Autobots waited in expectant silence as the first of the Xantium's crew stepped onto the ramp. Ultra Magnus saluted sharply, his motions as precise as Prowl remembered them. His plating showed the sheen of fresh paint and a new coat of wax. As punctilious as ever. In some ways, Ultra Magnus could be as boorish about his appearance as Tracks and Sunstreaker. It was a part of his dutiful soldier persona. At the same time, he did not fry a circuit for each and every scratch that accumulated during a battle or on the field.

The blue carrier paused, just before he stepped down to the asphalt. "Permission to come planetside, Prime."

A blue hand reached toward Ultra Magnus as Optimus laughed. "Granted." He draggedthe unit commander down to thump his shoulder struts. "It's good to see you, old friend."

Greetings between the two commanders exchanged the rest of Xantium's crew stepped out. Prowl saw many familiar faces- he nodded at Kup, glad to see the old mech still functioning- and many new ones. His doorwings twitched in surprise to see a femme laughing among Springer's group. He had not been aware of the presence of a femme amongst Ultra Magnus' crew. Then again, what had been the bare absence of 11.45 metacycles for the Ark crew, was almost 50,000 vorn for the Cybertronian mechs.

The two crews stood apart for nearly a breem, uncertainty shifting amongst them. Naturally it was Jazz who took the first step and broke the uncertain murmuring with a (loud) cheery greeting.

Prowl stood with Prime and Ultra Magnus, his attention divided between the humans greeting the large carrier and the suddenly raucous meeting of old and new friends.

The human representatives of the world governments said their piece and and moved away. Bumblebee was taking Spike around, introducing the boy to mechs he know and meeting ones he didn't. Prowl recalled the time when the world governments had attempted to persuade Spike and Sparkplug to act as their representatives, their diplomats, amongst the Autobots. Prowl had been certain they would accept the logical position, as had Prime. Both had been surprised when Sparkplug had refused on his and his son's behalf. Sparkplug had explained that they would have been expected to act as much as spies as ambassadors, and divulge Autobot secrets.

Instead they remained as liaisons on the Autobots' behalf, explaining two vastly different cultures and fighting the (not so)occasional slander from the human media.

The Autobots couldn't have found stauncher friends amongst any other race.

Ultra Magnus placed a hand on the balck and white mech's windshield. "Prowl, I didn't hear you during the battle." His voice rose in a concerned query.

Prowl smiled, meeting the gaze of his old partner. "I had a bit of a stall." The large unblinking optics stared down at him silently. Prowl shifted in the uncomfortable silence. "I see Springer's as impetuous as ever." He waved the datapad, indicating the recorded request.

Ultra Magnus chuckled, his gaze finally flicking to his rambunctious crew. "Hot Rod and Arcee are no help, they only encourage him."

"Hot Rod and Arcee?" Prowl followed the carrier's gaze to the femme laughing with the flame-painted mech and Ironhide. It didn't take a supercomputer to compute what Ultra Magnus was implying. He took a step back, his systems stuttering as he followed his processing to its logical conclusion.

Oh Primus, this is not going to be pretty.
Sideswipe could see how tense his brother was getting as one of the new mech (Headspin, or something like that) talked to them, asking them questions about this and that. Or rather asking Sunstreaker questions, any answer supplied by Sideswipe was summarily ignored, or worse, dismissed out of hand. Quite frankly, it was turning the red twin's last switch.

Sideswipe saw Prowl disappear into the ship and excused himself, to duck into the cruiser, following the tactician's telltale signature. A white hand reached out and grabbed the red warrior, hauling him into an unlocked office. Prowl released him, watching as he stumbled on his bad leg.

"What were you thinking? Trying to ride a Seeker into Devastator?"

"Hey now, that wasn't my idea. That was 'Breaker's-"

The tactician cut him off, prodding the warrior's chestplate with a finger. His black and white doorwings angled back, expressing his displeasure. "Don't you dare try to blame this one on Trailbreaker. I know what he told you, and he did not intend for you to be on that Seeker when he crashed into Devastator."

Sideswipe spread his hands. "Well, what was I supposed to do? He wouldn't have stayed on course if I'd just let him go!"

Prowl's optics dimmed and he sighed in exasperation. "You could have bent his ailerons into place, he would have struck in that general vicinity. I know you're smarter than this, Sideswipe. Why do you keep doing stupid things like that?"

"Stupid things? I don't know," the twin drawled. "I guess that depends on why you stalled in the middle of a fight."

Prowl drew back at that.

"I've been responsible for enough of your crashes that nothing out there," Sideswipe jabbed a finger in the general direction of the battlefield, "would have caused it."

Prowl continued to be silent, his lips drawing down in a frown. A sigh vented from his frame.

"It's not…" Sideswipe tilted his head and arched his brow ridges. "Jazz, is it?" He would rip that fragger limb from limb.

"No."

"You aren't going to tell me it's nothing, are you?" Sideswipe all but growled on the word 'nothing.'

"It is something I'm attempting to deal with."

Sideswipe was not impressed. "Like you dealt with Jazz? You handled that fragging wonderfully."

"Your attempts to deflect the attention from yourself will not be successf-"

The heavy sounds of footsteps snapped their attention from each other and toward the closed door. They moved apart, distancing themselves from what could only be a lover's spat.

Prowl's posture changed, taking on his normal authoritative air.

The door hissed open, admitting a surprised Ultra Magnus. He looked between the second-in-command and the warrior, his large optics winking off briefly.

"Am I disturbing something," he glanced around the room, "in my office?"

"I apologize for monopolizing your office, Ultra Magnus. I assure you we were just finishing." The tactician shot a stern glare at the red mech.

Sideswipe adopted a 'whatever' stance, sliding his gaze lazily away from the two officers.

Prowl's optics narrowed. "You are dismissed for now, Sideswipe, but we will continue this conversation at a later time."

Sdeswipe clenched his fists and glowered at the black and white officer. "Whatever happened to us being finished?" But he let his body language convey that the conversation would indeed be finished later.

He stalked out of the office, even though he kept his uneven steps light. He paused just out of sight of the door, his head tilted to catch the slightest sound.

"Did you forget something, Magnus?"

The twin automatically stiffened at Prowl's casual shortening of the unit Commander's name. He forced himself to relax, reminding himself that they had broken off a long time ago. That didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Actually Prime asked me to go see what you were doing. Why would he do that?"

Sideswipe staggered as every one of his systems froze. A chill swept through his frame, despite the warmth left from the atmosphere burn.

"I did just stall. Perhaps he was making sure that nothing untoward had happened to me in here?" Prowl's cool demeanor belied the faint trace of a tremor.

Metal scraped together, the sound of joints hissing. "He specifically asked me to make sure that you were not in here with Sideswipe. Any particular reason why?"

Sideswipe leaned against the wall, ventilators working overtime as his overclocked processors made sense of what Ultra Magnus said. He knew. He knew.

"Jazz has presented a baseless accusation against myself. I am certain it's just a precaution." The sound of two pairs of feet tromped toward the door.

"If it were baseless, Prime wouldn't be pursuing it. What was-"

Sideswipe didn't hear the rest of Ultra Magnus' question as he beat a hasty retreat. He knew about Jazz's attempt to reveal their affair to Prime, but he thought the matter had been dismissed. Apparently not. Had Prowl known that Prime had been suspicious this whole time, and never said anything? What was going through Prowl's processors to make him keep such information from Sideswipe?

So distracted was Sideswipe that he didn't realize he'd stumbled into the cargo area until Springer slapped his back in a hearty greeting.

"Sideswipe! It's great to see you still functional."

The red twin managed a suitable return, pulling himself out of his processor to look at the green mech.

They looked each other over; Springer with his mouth set contemplatively. The triple-changer looked good; a little scuffed and dusty, but nothing a good wash and fresh paint wouldn't take care of. He seemed to have a few more attachments than Sideswipe remembered him with, but then he guessed that was to be expected after so long a time.

"What are you doing here? You don't look like you could lift a support beam, much less a crate."

Sideswipe glared at the triplechanger. He limped over to one of the crates and hefted it up with one hand, resting it on his shoulder. "I'm no lightweight."

Springer grinned, his optics dim. "You and your brother never were." The green mech clenched his jaw, dental plates squeaking. "How is… Sunny?"

Sideswipe frowned as he moved around the triplechanger. "He's outside. Ask him."

"But I'm asking you."

The red twin turned to glare at Springer. He sent a query through his bond, gauging his brother's mood. "Annoyed." They both knew that was putting it lightly.

"I guess he would be."

"What are you doing hiding in here then?" Sideswipe asked when he realized the other mech hadn't picked up anything the entire time they'd been talking.

Springer waved a datapad. "Directing inventory." He glanced at the identification marks on the crate. "That's going to the construction team. See Grapple." He grinned at Sideswipe's wide optics.

"You're an officer?"

"Team leader actually."

That didn't compute. Not happy-go-lucky Springer? Not stick-it-up-your-tailpipe-sir Springer? "You?" So Sideswipe was lacking in eloquence at the moment.

"Well, we lost a bunch of officers when you guys disappeared. And we lost even more when the Decepticons routed us from Lathix."

Headspin(or whatever his name was) trudged up the cargo bay ramp.

"They must have been desperate to have to promote you."

The blue and white mech paused in examining the crates, visor flashing. Springer jerked his head in a dismissive gesture.

"Better me, than Downshift. He'd demoralize his entire team." Springer gestured Headspin to bring over his chosen crate. "I'd love to chat, but I need to get this stuff out of here." The green shoulders straightened and he turned a stern look on the red mech. "And you better get clearance from Ratchet before you come back in here."

Sideswipe huffed. "You'll talk to Sunny, though, right?"

The green mech laughed. "Are you kidding me? Your brother would hunt me down if I didn't."

Sideswipe chuckled his agreement and left, still carrying his cargo; his leg ablaze in pain. Maybe he wouldn't be helping out after all. He hadn't had a good scolding from the doc in a while anyways. Ratchet probably needed a chance to vent.