Teleporting blind was hard to define to anyone who wasn't a teleport.

Worst that could happen is you crash into a wall, they'd say. Haha, look at Skywarp, how clumsy, stuck in the furniture. What an idiot. But it's only a wall. Why are you so upset. Just detach that bit, and carry on with your day. It's really not a big deal.

What no-one seemed to realise was that it was never just like bumping into a wall, and never just a minor body part. More like… throwing yourself through a doorway where there could be anything on the other side – like the boiling inside of a volcano. And you wouldn't know anything about it until you were already dissolving your spark in lava.

This insanity went against every instinct he possessed. He was only mostly confident that there was only air at the other end of his careful triangulations. Air was fine. His pre-materialisation field could push air out of the way. Liquids were… mostly fine, too. (OK, maybe except lava.) But solid objects – like walls, and floors, and bulkheads… – didn't move. And this visual-only carefully-calculated little hop into a corridor had a margin of error as narrow as the tissue blade he'd stolen to cut out his beacon. Teleporting into solid objects was a particularly not-fun thing, and usually explodey into the bargain. (And look what happened last time: he disappeared into a time vortex for half a lifetime.)

…Skywarp successfully stepped out of his jump a few microns above the deck, in the middle of the corridor, as far from any walls as he could make it. The clunk as his thrustered heel hit the deck sounded unrealistically loud, but even the idea that it could have attracted an entire garrison of triplechangers to his escape took second billing to immediately checking himself over. He did six big agitated circles on the spot before finally being satisfied that yes, he was still in the same number of pieces he'd been in before teleporting, no, he hadn't left anything behind in the cell, and no, he definitely wasn't permanently attached to a wall.

And aside from his own clumsy footsteps, all was silence. That was good.

The lack of alarms felt like it was probably a good thing, as well.

Thank frag.He covered his face with both hands and blew stale exhaust into his palms.

OK. Stage two. Find the kids and break the slag out of here.

He cautiously brought all his systems back online and allowed himself a few long cycles of cool air before giving himself a good shake and telling himself to quit being a sparkling and get on with the plan.

It took every last ounce of self control not to break into a run. When his weight and certain hollow bits of anatomy were taken into account, especially against metal deckplates, thrustered heels weren't really built with sneaking in mind, especially not quickly – they might not have noticed him escaping but they'd definitely notice the gunshot clatter of a running seeker. Instead he was reduced to skulking down the corridors with a weirdly delicate, deliberate stride, trying hard to minimise the echoes.

There was a time he had been good at this, and he was definitely out of practice. Turning into a semi-responsible adult had a lot to answer for.

In a further complication, since his teleport, he couldn't seem to get the broken line in his helm to crystallise. It was still bleeding; trickling round under his chin and into his collar, before finding one of his many broken bits of fuselage to drip off. Only the occasional spots and smears, maybe, but even tiny droplets would light his way like glowing breadcrumbs. The quicker he could scoop up the little sparks and get out, the better.

He followed the subtle sounds of static down the corridor, homing in on the pinpoint labelled Seem that he'd stuck in his mental map. He figured it prooobably hadn't helped the kid's frame of mind, seeing his sire captured by the same bunch of thugs as had made his own life a living Pit for the last few orns… but hopefully Seem would still have enough of a grip on himself that he'd be helpful and not need carrying or some slag. (And hopefully the kids were on their own, or this would be the planet's shortest rescue mission.)

He peered around the bulkhead and finally located the source of the sounds, huddled up in the corner of his cell. At least Slipstream wasn't totally in the dark. Small blessings.

"Hey. Psst?"

"S-skyw-…!" Slipstream visibly jumped, and rocked forwards onto his knees, startled. "But, but… I thought they'd caught you-! I-I saw you with them-!"

"They did." Satisfied the youngster had no babysitters, Skywarp turned his attention to the controls. "But you know me. I don't like to stay caught for too long."

"How-how did you even get out?"

Skywarp grinned. "See, when someone puts you in cuffs, you're a good little cop and treat them like they're meant to be treated. When someone puts me in cuffs, I take it as a challenge." He gave the controls a wary poke, just in case it was booby-trapped, but the field obediently just fizzled out. "Huh. There's no baffle on it? Why didn't you get out?"

Struggling to stand, Slipstream glanced away, awkwardly, and gestured with his cuffed wrists. "Where was I going to go, exactly? We couldn't exactly walk back to shore."

"…Fair point. Let's get your hands free." Skywarp leaned briefly over the threshold and gave the cell a visual once-over. "Uh. So, uh. Where's Dash?"

"I don't know." Slipstream crept to the front of the cell, tucked close to the wall, looking rather like a frightened animal. "I'm sorry. Probably with Ramjet. They don't leave her with me very often, any more."

"Great. That does kinda frag things up. I figured you'd be together." Skywarp vented a terse sigh, and noticed the youngster flinch ever so slightly. He made a mental note to try not to spook him any worse until they were out "Can you see her? I'd have a look myself but it might clue them in that I've slipped the leash."

Slipstream's gaze meandered while he looked for his cousin's signal. "…I see her, but… I'm not sure where exactly. Couple of decks above." He studied the floor. "I'm sorry. I… kinda didn't imagine I'd need to know, right now, or I-I'd have asked her more about where they took her. She-she's always fine when they bring her back. I thought that was enough. I'm sorry-"

"Hey. Hey!" Skywarp caught his shoulders before he could get too wobbly. "It's fine. You did what you could. Don't beat yourself up over this, all right? You've taken enough of a beating from those guys already, don't go and join in with doing it to yourself." That was putting it lightly; the youngster looked like he'd taken a trip or two through the mill already. "Do I need to get the Hatchet to meet us at the Spacebridge?"

"It's not so bad." Slipstream shrugged and refused to meet his gaze. "Mostly just dents. I think they all had a turn at it, at one point or another. Got Dash to behave if she thought they'd punch me if she didn't. I-I can cope. For now."

Skywarp arched a brow at the lie, but let it rest. They'd have plenty of time for playing pin-the-blame-on-yourself later, when they weren't still navigating this tightrope to safety.

Slipstream waited patiently while Skywarp fiddled with the dented cuffs and tried to get them to unlock. "Maybe we should try and find Ramjet."

Skywarp gave him a wary glance. "What? Why?"

"He-he usually comes and collects Dash, and she says she normally stays with him when she's not here. I think maybe he's in charge of watching over her. And-" Slipstream cycled cold air and dragged up enough courage to put a little weight behind his convictions. "I think he's maybe having second thoughts about all this? I overheard him say he wanted to come home, back to Cybertron. He might be willing to help, if we give him a bit of a break?"

Skywarp gave him a very long stare before finally saying "hm."

"He-he's… not been so bad. Compared to Dirge." Slipstream chased, before that limited burst of spirit could run out. "Dirge absolutely wants me to know he's going to kill me, eventually. Ramjet just… seems… bored of it all, I guess. He never looks interested. He's just… flat."

At last, the lock on the cuffs released. It took a little force, but between them they managed to peel them open.

"You don't think it's a trick? Or bait?" Skywarp tossed the broken cuffs into the cell, while Slipstream quietly examined his wrists for additional damage. "I mean, if there's one person I know isn't gonna be affected by a good punch to the head? It's Ramjet."

"After they caught me, he's never really joined in when his wingmates decided I was due a slagging. I only really see him when he's come to get Dash, or drop her back."

Skywarp thought back to the aftermath of his own beating from Megatron, and recognised that actually? The youngster's words did make a lick of sense. While everyone else grandstanded and tried to remind him how intimidating and scary they were all meant to be, Ramjet's contribution had been… perfunctory. He had looked tired, more than anything. "You think he'd talk to us?"

"I don't know." Slipstream deflated, a little. "I haven't dared broach the subject, in-in case I was wrong. Besides. I'm an Autobot, remember? He'd never talk to me."

"…And I'm a traitor. I don't know who they hate more. Chances are decent that he wouldn't talk to me, either." Skywarp returned his attention to the corridor. Still quiet, still empty. "Come on. Let's at least quit hanging around in your cell doorway, seeing as this is precisely where everyone seems to be visiting right now. If anyone's gonna accidentally spot us, it'll be here. We can figure slag out on the way."

Slipstream followed him, obediently. "So, um. When are the rest of the guys getting here?"

Skywarp winced. "I, ah, might have asked your ama to cover for me while I snuck out. With any luck they only figured out what I was up to when I dropped off the registry. Hopefully it means they're still back on Cybertron."

"Oh." Slipstream just quietly nodded at the news, looking disappointed but not unduly surprised. Ideas like Skywarp's tended to run in the family, after all. "Okay. So it's just us?"

"Yeah. I figured dragging the others along for the ride wasn't the right thing to do, right now." Skywarp checked around a doorway, and blew out an annoyed sigh. "TC has one of his six-orn migraines and can't see slag, and I didn't want to immediately get murdered by bringing Screamer along. Thought I stood a better chance of surviving if it was just me. It's… kinda worked so far, I guess. Still alive, anyway."

"How are you going carry us when we find Dash? Do you know if you can even still fly?"

"Sure. I've flown with dings worse than this." Skywarp offered an ambivalent shrug. "I've still got both wings, both thrusters, and hopefully most of my usual dumb luck. We'll figure something out." He glanced back at his sparkling and offered a lopsided smile, but Slipstream didn't smile back. "We're just gonna have to be lone heroes, all right?"

Slipstream laughed, humourlessly, and looked away. He was visibly deflating. "I'm not sure I'm hero material."

"Hey. Quit that." Skywarp gave him a light cuff on the arm. "The fact your confidence has taken a beating doesn't mean you're any less of a warrior than you were before a bunch of pitglitched 'Cons got their claws in you. They dumped you in a cell on your own with nothing to do except worry and it sucks." He placed his hands firmly on the youngster's upper arms, and crouched, subtly, to be on his eyeline. "Look. We're gonna get out of here, but you've gotta focus for me, all right? I can't do this and carry you as well."

Slipstream stared through him for a second or two before finding his sire's optics, and managing to focus on him. He nodded, shakily.

"I won't lie to you. This situation sucks. There's a pretty good chance neither of us are getting out of here in the condition we're in right now, let alone as a functioning whole. But I need your attention. I need absolutely all your energy focused on us getting out." Skywarp offered a wan smile. "You can be a snivelly wet blanket all you like once we're home. Frag, I'll come be a snivelly wet blanket with you. But let's save it until we've got your cousin and got out."

Slipstream had to reboot his vocaliser, and even then sounded hazy. "How is it you're not scared?"

"Who said I wasn't?"

Slipstream just stared at him, silently.

"Not looking scared doesn't mean not being scared. You don't survive war as long as I did without learning a few tricks, and looking like you have your slag together? Sometimes that's enough to convince everyone else that you genuinely do." Skywarp managed an ugly laugh. "I mean, Pit. I'm walking around here like I still own the place. Megatron's already given me a slagging, I'm only reasonably confident that he won't kill me on sight if he catches me, and that's only because I know he wants Starscream to watch me die. And I'm not even totally confident of that. If we frag this up, he might decide sending him a video works just as well."

Slipstream leaned into the stabilising grip for a further astro second or two, before lifting his own hands to cover the larger ones on his arms. "That's… not really helping, Day."

"…yeah, I know. I figure that's why I never got the job as staff counsellor back home." Skywarp let out a tired whistle of exhaust and let his helm bonk gently against Slipstream's. "I also know, we're gonna do this. We're survivors. We've got through everything else and we're already halfway there. We just need one last little push, and we'll fetch Dashie, and be out."

Slipstream nodded against him.

"Remember. It's not about being scared. Everyone gets scared. Even I get scared. I've got the surges right now." Skywarp grinned in a way that bared his denta in a determined snarl. "It's about knowing you're scared, and still telling it exactly where it can go frag off, because we're gonna do it anyway. Right?"

Slipstream finally managed to dredge up a more genuine laugh – shaky and halfway to a sob, but at least there was a bit of energy behind it. He wiped his face with one hand and made an effort to straighten his twisted antennae. "Right. Let's go tell it where to frag off."

ooo0000ooo

He might in reality have been sat on his aft, but in his head right now, Ramjet stood on a precipice, with his own weight in concrete around his thrusters, debating whether he dared step off into the unknown. Sure, even loaded up like this, he could still fly, but he was at his limit. Add one more tiny thing – like the weight of a first-instar sparkling, perhaps – and that might be enough to turn flying into falling and the drop in front of him was a very long way down with no way back up.

And that was just the little problem. He had no idea what to do about the big problems – the two massive spanners in his turbines called Thrust and Dirge. If he tried to discuss any of this with them, he knew Dirge would go straight to Megatron. Or 'accidentally' let it slip to Soundwave. And it didn't take much thinking to know who Thrust would side with.

Ramjet knew the trine was in trouble.

Worse, he knew, deep down, that they were right. It was his fault.

Even during the better times, when they had an actual cause worth fighting for and things weren't all so fractured and pointless, before The Traitor defected and the 'Cons ended up stuck the wrong side of the spacebridge on planet Mud… he didn't exactly have a great track record as wingleader. Not that his wingbros were any better, but Dirge had at least found the capacity to be kinda proactive for a change.

…Which meant Megatron was looking more closely at the three of them, all of a sudden, so whatever Ramjet did do, he didn't have the luxury of taking time making the decision.

And that was discounting the idea that Starscream would beat him to the punch – finally make his move, get himself caught and horribly executed, the Autobots would move to try and stop the 'Cons reinvading Cybertron, and their stupid meaningless war would start over again.

Assuming he did get out, Ramjet knew he'd have to be really careful about how he played this, because yeah, they'd abducted (and traumatised) the kids and shot – maybe killed – Skywarp's femme. Maybe he could spin it that hey, he was acting on Megatron's orders, not everyone has the Screamer's compulsion to defy him at every turn. Right? If he grovelled low enough perhaps he wouldn't immediately get shot. You could eventually come back from planetary exile, he figured. Couldn't come back from being dead. And if it came to the worst, Autobot prisons had to be better than this dump.

Once he'd bought himself a little favour with the enemy, a little space to think without constantly being aware of a timer counting down to a deadline he didn't actually know, he could work on figuring out what to do with his trine.

He'd probably frag things up irreparably no matter what option he took – but sitting here just staring at screens and hoping it'd just spontaneously somehow resolve itself wasn't an option either.

Make or break time.

If he left, his bros would either follow him because they saw something worth saving, or they wouldn't, because it was over.

Was he clutching at contrails, hoping they'd think he was worth following?

"Ugh." He covered his face with both hands and rested his elbows against the control panel.

Skydash squeaked questioningly at him, but he ignored her for now.

Frag.

Frag.

Clutching at contrails.

Ramjet made up his mind. "Come on. Let's go for a walk." He held out his hand.

Skydash examined the big palm for several seconds before climbing warily on. "Walk where?"

"Does it matter? I mean if you'd rather stay in this li'l room, be my guest. But you might get kinda bored. And Mean Blue might come back."

She chirped uneasily and clung tighter to his thumb while he lifted her to his shoulder. He let her wriggle into a convenient crevice, tiny fingers finding just enough gaps in his plating to anchor herself. It felt very strange, but he figured it wouldn't be for too long.

Hoped it wouldn't be for too long. And not for the wrong reasons.

The instant she was secure, Ramjet puffed himself up, arms stiff and hands fisted, just in case anyone was watching, and strode out into the corridor.

Just going about my business, nothing to see here.

I am a totally normal confident Decepticon warrior, where I belong, not even trying to sneak out with one of our prisoners.

"See ama now, Arrgie?" she asked, quietly.

"Maybe. If you behave." He felt her perk up, and hastily added; "And be quiet, all right? You know Dirge will say no." And instantly grass us up to Megatron. "If the guys spot us, that's it. Curtains."

She was silent for an astro-second. "What curtains am?"

"Curtains are what we close on the end of the world for both of us." At the second little questioning noise, he went on: "Someone might even put you back in the bucket."

Alarm flashed through her field. "No bucket," she whispered.

"Right? No bucket."

She managed a whole astro-second of silence. "When to get Unnolseem?"

Frag. "Uh. I'm… gonna… have to come back for him," Ramjet lied. "The two of you together will be too heavy."

If she sensed the lie, she didn't call him out on it, and settled again, satisfied for now.

Then they rounded a corner and ran smack into Skywarp.

"Frag!" Ramjet leaped back and immediately went into a defensive half-crouch, fisting one hand in front of his chest, ready to deliver a punch if needed. "How did you get out?!"

"By being cleverer than you bunch of pitglitches, how do you think?" Skywarp had already put himself between Ramjet and Slipstream, using his wings as a shield, equally ready to fight. "Have you never upgraded the brig since we jumped ship?"

"Unnolseem!" Skydash ruined the tension. "Find ama!" she squeaked, excitedly flailing her arms. She looked like she was on the cusp of toppling clean off. "Arrgie say!"

Ramjet hastily grabbed her before she could fall off – and more importantly, before anyone else could snatch her. It unfortunately ruined the whole fearsome Conehead look that he was trying to carry off.

Skywarp gave him a very long, curious stare. "Are you defecting?"

"And fling myself on the tender mercy of you guys? Don't be ridiculous."

"You haven't shot us yet."

"Of course not. I don't want you falling apart in the hallway, it'd ruin Megatron's plans. I'm calling for backup right now."

"Really." Skywarp folded his arms, unimpressed. "We all heard what Dashie just said about finding her bearer, and Seem thinks you want to come back to Cybertron. If you are quitting-"

Ramjet's expression darkened. "I do want to come home; so what? It sucks that we've been stuck here all these vorns, slowly rusting and going decrepit, while you guys sit around enjoying the good life. It doesn't mean I'm defecting. It means, I'm gonna wait until Megatron finally puts his plans into action, then swoop to victory the instant you're out of the way."

Skywarp arched an eyebrow, and they all just stared at each other for several seconds, the words hanging unspoken in the air. Which is why you're sneaking out with half of Megatron's plan.

Ramjet sighed. "Okay. Fine. Just for an astro-second, say I was. Say I didn't want to wait for Megatron because I know it'll instantly go to slag and we'll have a derelict planet again. Would you give me a chance, or just shoot me when my back was turned?"

"You jumping ship now isn't going to stop Megatron's grand plan-"

"Maybe not? Who cares. At least he'll have one fewer pairs of hands to help wreck the joint." Ramjet closed his mouth with a little snap, and glared. "…And you are not tricking me into saying anything else. Not until I get some assurances of safety from you."

Skywarp put his hands up, defensively. "Okayokay. You have my word that I won't shoot you – yet, anyway – but I'm still just the grunt of my trine. It's my wingbros you're gonna have to convince." He held one hand out. "Hand Dash to me, and Seem can get you out."

"So you can all immediately leave me behind?" Ramjet tightened his grip, subtly. "No deal, traitor. She's my guarantee that you at least listen to me."

"I hate to break it to you, RJ, but last time I checked you couldn't teleport."

"So I'll take the lift? Like I was about to do, before you two fragheads showed up. How do you think I normally get off this disintegrating tin can?"

"And you were planning to not get caught… how?"

"By… living here? And not being suspicious because I'm not sneaking around where I'm not meant to be? If Tiny keeps quiet, I'll just leave the same way I normally do, using the docking gantry." Ramjet lowered his voice to a hiss. "Which is looking less and less likely, by the way, the longer I stand here chatting with you two idiots. Just get yourselves out, and I'll meet you up there."

"Or you'll run straight to Megatron and let him know we're making a jailbreak. I think not."

"The frag would I do that when we've already established I'm defying orders myself?!"

Skywarp rubbed the back of his helm. "Fine. We're gonna have to work together, then. All four of us at once. If we synchronise our gates, we can just perform one big jump at once. Everyone knows where everyone else is, no-one betrays anyone, no-one gets shot." He gave his niece a look. "You all right with that, Bit?"

Dash nodded. Having her family around had emboldened the sparkling. "Find ama. No bucket," she asserted.

"Bucket?" Skywarp wondered.

Ramjet ignored him, just glaring tiredly at the sparkling. "Do I look anything like I have a damn bucket on my person anywhere?"

She just stared up at him.

"All right, all right, I get it. No bucket."

"You good for fuel?" Skywarp gave Ramjet a loaded glance. "'Cause when we leave here, we ain't stopping for anyone until we get through the spacebridge."

Ramjet shrugged, ambivalently. "How are you for fuel?" he returned, sidestepping the question. "We haven't exactly fed you while you've been here."

"I haven't leaked it all on the floor yet." Skywarp dragged up a cynical smile. "This plastic refit you lot have been having so much fun sucking sump about does have a few perks. I can go lightyears further than you bunch of lead-forged bulk carriers-"

The sudden shrill pulsatile scream of Nemesis's general alarm made all four jump. Scared, Skydash jammed her hands up over her audios and joined in a microsecond later.

Skywarp rankled at the accusatory looks. "Okay, fine! We've been chatting in the corridors for too long and I guess someone finally looked at the monitors. That or someone spotted I'm still dripping and is following my trail. Seem? Better get our gates synced."

Slipstream nodded, gulping down cold air. "I've not done this in a long time," he stammered. "Give-give me a second-"

The rattle of running footsteps was obvious even over the din of alarms.

Skywarp glanced down the corridor in the direction they were coming from. "We might not have a second, 'cause that sounds like company," he snapped, turning to face the approaching enemy. "I'll try buy us some time. Just don't stop."

Thrust skidded around the corner without leaving himself enough room to stop, and crashed side-on into the wall. In the instant it took to rebalance his gyroscopes, Skywarp already sprinting towards him, in an irregular teleported zigzag across the corridor.

"Oh, frag!" Thrust scrambled to lock back onto his target, but Skywarp's quick hops ruined his tracking, and by the time he thought to rely on his vision, his assailant was already within striking distance.

The teleport threw a punch and connected his fist with Thrust's unprotected face.

"How's that plastic feel for you?!"

Thrust lost his balance and went crashing down on his aft, swearing the whole way.

"…Traitor!" Apparently aiming for a pincer movement to box the escapees in, Dirge had appeared from the opposite direction… but was so shocked to be seeing Ramjet together with Skywarp and the kids, he had no idea how to handle it.

Slipstream seized the chance – Dirge was within striking distance, hadn't yet brought his cannons up, and the younger mech was still running hot with alarm.

He launched himself at the blue jet, arms wide and head down, and ploughed into his midsection. Smaller he might have been, but the youngster was heavy and sturdily built, and as tackles went it was pretty solid. One of Dirge's thrusters skidded out from underneath him and they went sprawling.

Slipstream used both hands against the jet's face to push himself up and away, out of reach. Dirge swore and made an unsuccessful grab for one arm, unable to recover from the shove quickly enough to catch him.

"Seem! Finalise the sync-!" Skywarp bellowed, urgently.

Thrust was already up in a crouch, pushing off in a lunge.

Slipstream snatched out a hand and secured his grip on Ramjet. "Done-!"

Thrust made a grab-…

-…but his fingers closed on empty air.

Then momentum carried him wildly over his centre of gravity and he collapsed onto Dirge.

It really wasn't their day.

ooo0000ooo

Up in the monitoring room, the escape hadn't gone observed.

Megatron stood squarely in front of the screen, arms folded. A motley assortment of other mechs had clustered around the margins of the room behind him, wanting to see but not particularly keen to be within reach. Just in case.

Astrotrain stood at the back of the crowd, at a respectful, harder-to-slag distance. "Far be it for me to tell you how to do your job, mighty Megatron, but, uh. You… don't want us to hunt them down?"

The warlord stared at the screen for several seconds, listening to the confused murmurings of his followers, before finally speaking.

"No. This might not be the outcome I had been hoping for, but it still works in my favour." He turned away from the screen and everyone took a collective step back. "Whether he realises it or not, Skywarp is still working for us. With a little luck, he will carry our plan right to his own doorstep." A small smile traced the thin lips. "He never does learn from past mistakes, does he?"

ooo0000ooo

The flight back to land was uneventful. A blind sprint over the ocean, granted, trying to become invisible by sticking so close to the waves that seaspray often stung their fuselage… but no-one appeared to be following them. So they were all getting covered in salt-spots for no reason.

It left Skywarp deeply uneasy – too quiet, where was the pursuit, how far back were they, was there a trap ahead – but he kept his concerns to himself. Wasn't about to challenge the advantage, just in case Primus decided the escapees had been granted quite enough good luck, now, and dropped a Blitzwing in their way.

The irony that their 'prisoner' was the only mech that was still functionally armed was not lost on him. The last thing they needed was a triplechanger to deal with.

Ramjet had been moodily silent since leaving the Nemesis.

-might not count for much coming from me, but think this is pretty brave of you- Skywarp pinged.

Ramjet replied with an obscene image.

-mean it! not even slagging with you-

-whatever. coulda got out without the bros being any the wiser, but you had to go screw that up- Ramjet replied, sourly.

-they'd have known eventually-

-would have figured out an excuse by then! cook it so dirge thought it was his idea. no hope now. total slagfest-

Skywarp let the matter drop, aside from a final -sorry- that he hoped was good enough to convince the conehead he was genuine.

Ramjet didn't respond.

They finally arrived at the spacebridge to find Vantage had already cued up the Deixar address, and the wormhole was glowing hot. Only two other familiar figures stood nearby – Jazz and Prowl, of course – but Skywarp could pretty much guarantee the presence of a dozen other Autobots, minimum, hiding close by in the trees.

Relieved to be back on solid ground, Slipstream took two steps before stumbling and sagging against Skywarp, as if his knees had forgotten how to work. Skywarp let him lean – the smaller mech's acrophobia was no secret, and he'd spent the entire journey clinging to him with both arms, optics offline, trying not to tremble too much but still distractingly shaky.

"Skywarp," Jazz greeted, coming forwards, looking relaxed but keeping his gaze fixed on the uncomfortable Ramjet. "We spotted your coming and let Cybertron know you were on your way, but does anyone need Ratchet before you ship out?"

Skywarp snorted. "Thanks, but no thanks. No offence, but we're not planning on hanging around." He pulled carefully on Slipstream's arm and got him back onto his feet. "Only a few more steps, Seemo, then you can fall apart in safety. All right?"

Prowl stood quietly watching them approach the spacebridge; he gave Ramjet a very long, meaningful stare, but didn't challenge them.

Skywarp gave the Autobot a nod, but otherwise ignored him, hustling Ramjet along in front and hoping Prowl would play into the ruse the mech was his prisoner – or at least wouldn't call him out, because his own sleek arms and absence of weaponry was kinda obvious.

Thankfully, no-one challenged why Ramjet was still carrying Dash, either. That would have been harder to explain without publically going into the detail Skywarp wanted to avoid.

The four emerged from the transport wormhole to a bristling blue wall of defensive shielding, scattered in a big circle between a loose perimeter of hastily-erected barriers. It looked like half the Deixar force was there, anticipating Megatron himself to be coming through.

"Whoa." Even Skywarp took a step back, surprised. "That's a bigger welcome than I was expecting."

Ramjet tensed and stumbled backwards behind Skywarp's wings. He'd have probably ducked straight back through the spacebridge if it hadn't (inconveniently) already deactivated. "I thought you said I'd have to convince your bros?" he hissed. "Not the entire fragging police force! You never said anything about this."

"Hate to break it to you but I haven't had a tonne of contact with Cybertron in the last few orns?"

A big white shape with blazing blue optics broke through the vanguard, closely followed by a familiar set of blue wings, and advanced with a thunderous stride that made the ground shake. Skywarp heard Ramjet's fans kick subtly to a higher frequency. With the femme's field broadcasting her emotions so scorchingly hot, it did feel rather like having a hostile blue-white star bearing down on them.

The giant wrestled her self-control back and stumbled to a halt an arm's length away. "Hand her over," she instructed, shakily, then added; "please."

For several seconds, Ramjet just stared. Celerity was easily as tall as him, and must have massed getting on for double. He barely even noticed Thundercracker approaching behind her.

Skywarp kicked him in the back of the leg. It was enough to break through the haze of fight-or-flight and he realised the sparkling was on the point of squirming out of his hands all by herself anyway.

Ramjet hastily plonked the tiny bot into the large palms, and the supernova rapidly deflated.

For several long seconds, Celerity just held her sparkling, the tension visibly draining out of her. Skydash clicked and squirmed and tried to mould herself all the way into her chassis.

"Ama, ama, ama," the sparkling repeated, like an excited mantra. "Ama, ama!"

The instant Skydash had calmed enough to handle, Celerity peeled the baby carefully off her armour, and gently passed her into Thundercracker's confused hands; Skydash shrieked and flailed excitedly and scrambled up his arm to latch around his neck. "Be good for a moment?" she said, with a smile, although it wasn't obvious who exactly she was talking to.

Then she turned, and sent Ramjet reeling with a piledriver right hook to the face.