Chapter 50

"Back to the root of it all"

Hawkmoon lurched out of the reliquary, feeling all the hurt and then some. Augur pranced ahead, livelier than he had any right to be. It left her feeling all sorts of jealous. Damn incorporeal fox, incapable of taking a beating. "I'm just your muscle at this rate," Hawkmoon groused. She dropped Phorus, pressed Rampage's spark down on the ground and fell beside it. Her entire frame ached.

Augur walked back to her. "Here is not the place to die."

"I'm not dying."

"Then get up."

"Just let me have my damn moment." Hawkmoon raised her helm up to the sky and sighed. At least her wings came out of it intact. Dented and scratched up, but still in the shape they'd been shipped in. That made things a little easier. As long as she could still fly, then she was fine. Well, maybe not fine-fine, her helm was too cold on one side and one of her optics wasn't responding - but that was par for the course. Like walking out of a Rumble match, broken and bloody but still riding out the high of victory.

"Right," she gasped. She dragged a pede under herself "We can- Nope, no, I'm... okay another few seconds. Ow..."

Augur sighed. "How severe is the damage?"

"It's superficial, mostly. Apart from my canopy. And my helm. That's feeling pretty fragging serious."

"You are a sight."

"A pretty one?"

"Your features may require some restructuring on that end."

"Harsh," Hawkmoon groaned. "Okay. Okay. Here I..." She got back up, cradled an arm around her broken cockpit, and scooped Rampage's spark back up. "See anyone yet?"

Augur glanced back at her, bored. "Not yet. Should we wait?"

"Probably." Hawkmoon hacked up a globule of energon. She cradled her aching chest, all but willing the pain to abate. Her body, in its own way, told her to go kick rocks. "Scrap..." She raised her helm and beheld... she didn't want to refer to it as a battlefield. What battle had there been to speak of? Just a skirmish, the flash of plasma bursts and the glint of blades sinking between plating. The Drezhari laid in smoking, broken heaps - Rampage's doing, mostly, and what a scene he'd left behind him. Bodies torn asunder, limbs strewn about, a fuel-substance not unlike energon lathered across the ground; it was a grisly image, all considered, and Hawkmoon kept expecting the coppery smell of blood to hit her - only for her to remember that was a thing of the past.

"I tried reasoning with them," she muttered, strained. "The Drezhari."

"And?" Augur asked. "How did that turn out?"

"Not well. Not bad, either, 'least until Rampage started killing them."

"What were you hoping to prove?"

"That maybe everything not under the Dark's shadow is so different. People are bastards, no one knows it better than me, but still I... What the frag am I doing? This isn't my kinda scene."

"The aftermath?"

"The talking. The stuff we do to avoid the fighting. Never had to do that before in my life; there's no telling a nasty old Devil Captain to please stop stabbing my kidneys, I need those. Or a Cabal Centurion from shooting my head off for taking a stroll through the place I'd been born. Or a Vex Minotaur from trying to convert me into a... a different kind of machine, but that's just a Vex problem, I guess. Not a people problem." Hawkmoon heaved a hollow sigh. "It's so easy to be angry. It's so hard to put your pride on the sidelines. I can't do it. But that leaves me wondering where the people who can are - because the universe is lacking diplomats."

"The Taishibethi had diplomats," Augur mentioned.

Hawkmoon nodded tenderly. Her helm was still half-numb. "And look where that got them."

"You want diplomats, yet you scoff at their existence?"

"I know, right? Pretty fucking contrary, aren't I? I... I guess I'm just confused, Augur. I want to say no more than anybody else, but, ah... nah, I got more things to be bewildered by than most."

"And you want to air these problems now?"

"Pain's making me loopy. Me 'n' Gecko used to have the best chats when I was down in the ditch, missing an arm. Or a leg. Or everything below the waist. Seems like I'm subconsciously replacing him with you."

"And am I an improvement?"

Hawkmoon lost her already threadbare good humour. "Frag no. Gecko was the best. And you're a little shit-stirrer."

"I see." Augur didn't seem affected. "Unfortunate, then, that this Gecko of yours didn't come back with you."

"This conversation is over."

They waited. Not for long, but with every moment that passed Hawkmoon grew ever more aware of the thrumming of Rampage's restless spark. It crawled with a resonant power, a lustrous energy and it would not shut up, playing on her nerves with every hum, every lash of its ill-given power, every attempt to climb back inside the reliquary for its original body. She had been on the verge of swatting it when she glimpsed movement out of the corner of her vision. Ser'ket. Alone. None of the surviving Akildn with her.

Hawkmoon raised her chin. "Hey," she said softly, though not warmly.

Ser'ket gave her a look over and frowned. "Where's Rampage?"

Hawkmoon nudged his spark. Ser'ket's frown deepened.

"You... killed him?" she exclaimed, fang-denta bared.

"He's not dead," Hawkmoon tiredly explained, shaking her helm. "But frag, I wish I could."

"What do you mean-"

The spark shifted.

"What. The frag?" Ser'ket whispered, staring at it.

Hawkmoon picked it up and held it under her elbow. "Trying to figure that out myself. Where's 'Lulim?"

"No idea. Shimmerscales don't hunt in packs." Ser'ket tilted her helm. She glanced at Hawkmoon. "Primus above, you're a wreck."

"Bastard put up a fight and a half," Hawkmoon coughed. "Killed Phorus."

"Who's Phorus?"

"Silk-serpent beside me."

"Akildn." Something like concern crossed Ser'ket's faceplates. "The Stratocracy will not be happy."

"The other one's dead too, what's veir name... Yrsfa. Rampage's side chick. Snake. Whatever."

"Did you...?"

"Nah, that was all the Drezhari." Hawkmoon cast a long look past Ser'ket. "Any survivors?"

Ser'ket squared her shoulders. "No."

"Not even to answer for all this?"

"It's clear what happened here. They've overstepped their bounds."

"Yeah, but-"

"And the Stratocracy will look to retaliate, once this gets back to them. They won't need living Drezhari witnesses to tell them what they already know."

"What are they going to do?"

Ser'ket shrugged, optics falling on Rampage's spark again. "Don't know. Don't care."

"Not even a little?"

"They're just Drezhari. Programme-clusters undergoing rampancy. Don't make the mistake of thinking otherwise."

Hawkmoon opened her mouth, then thought better about arguing the point. She didn't agree - but they weren't really in the right place to have that kind of debate. Instead, she considered something else; another aspect she needed to explore, to familiarize herself with. Something worth investigating because too many things were lining up to be a coincidence. "What about this angel of theirs?"

Ser'ket barely looked at her. "What about it?"

"Was hoping you could expand on that. I'd ask Elulim, but ve wasn't forthcoming earlier."

"Did you hit your helm or something? Not now, Seeker." Ser'ket grimaced, tore her gaze away from the spark and scanned their surroundings. "We need to evacuate, before..."

"I know what you ask," Augur said. "And the answer is yes."

Hawkmoon vented a sigh. "Of course," she bitterly muttered.

Ser'ket looked down at her with guarded optics. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're in bad shape."

"You should see the other guy."

"I can. And I can't believe what you've done. He-"

"He struck first."

"So says you."

Hawkmoon raised her helm and glared with her still-functioning optic. "Yeah. So says I."

"You really think there won't be consequences to this, don't you?" Ser'ket said incredulously.

"Not from you. This is Eimin-Tin territory - and I'm thinking Elulim is more predisposed to telling you to go get fragged than to shove me under the executioner's axe."

"These are Eimin-Tin, Seeker. Serpents. Not your wing-kin of Vos."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal to me," Hawkmoon muttered. She looked past Ser'ket. "There ve is. They are."

Elulim emerged from the direction of the Drezhari encampment, Aspheri in tow. The two of them were up to their necks in oil and not-quite-energon, their chests heaving and their heads raised. Their tongues flicked out, tasting the air, and they swung their sharpened heads to and fro, scanning for new threats. Hawkmoon raised a servo, ushering them closer. They hurried over. Elulim unhappily clicked veir teeth at the sight of Phorus.

"What happened?" ve all but demanded.

Hawkmoon gestured to Rampage's still-beating spark. "This fragger happened. Went fragging haywire."

"You... you did this?" Aspheri questioned sharply.

Hawkmoon raised an optical ridge - the only one that was responding to her. "Yes."

"And Phorus-"

"Rampage killed ver."

"But... why?"

"Does a glitch like him ever need a reason?" Hawkmoon scoffed. "Don't know why you're so surprised. Was I really the only one to pick up on how detestable he was?"

"Doesn't matter," Elulim snapped. Ve glanced at the Reliquary behind her. "Did you enter?"

"Yeah."

"What did you find?"

"... Nothing safe." Hawkmoon grimaced. "Nothing meant for our hands."

"Have the Drezhari taken anything?" Elulim pressed.

"I don't know. Hard to tell. Maybe?"

"What of Rampage's relic?"

"Don't think there was one. This was all just a bait-job," Hawkmoon grumbled. "Meant to drag me out into the frontier, where no one would know what would happen. Fragger couldn't have made it more obvious and I still fragging agreed..."

"But why... no." Elulim shook veir head. "We'll speak of this later. The Stratocracy must be informed of what happened here. Can you..." Ve looked back at Hawkmoon and finally seemed to realize the state she was in. "Oh. No. Perhaps not."

"Perhaps what?"

"Can you fly back?"

Hawkmoon vented deeply. "'Lulim, I can barely stand."

"How severe is the damage?"

"I don't know. I'll need a mechanic soon as we get back, I think."

"Sooner than that," Ser'ket murmured. "And a proper surgeon."

"Same thing," Hawkmoon quietly retorted. She shot Ser'ket a warning look - but the dragonling just kept on scrutinizing her. "So what now?"

"Where's Ysfra?" Aspheri questioned.

"Dead. Drezhari killed ver before I arrived."

Aspheri looked at Elulim. "Two kindred dead, not a single relic at hand. This venture has been a gross failure."

"The Drezhari took samples," Elulim barked back. "They did research. That is enough."

"Is it? I don't foresee any resale value in research."

"Then you aren't thinking far enough. Grab what drives you can get your hands on."

Aspheri huffed. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"What makes you think you'll have earned a cut, if I'm the one salvaging it all."

Elulim bristled. "I get my cut for saving your scales," ve retorted. "Why else?"

"I had it-"

"No, you didn't. Just go."

Aspheri grumbled and left them behind, retracing the path to the Drezhari camp. Elulim watched ver go, then offered Hawkmoon a hand. "Here."

She took it, staggering back to her pedes. "Thanks," Hawkmoon gasped.

"Was this all Rampage?"

"Yeah. Mostly. Don't think our run-in with lung serpent was helping much."

"You should have waited," Elulim hissed. "Rampage-"

"Is dead."

"At what cost?"

"Well, I'm alive."

"And Phorus?"

Hawkmoon winced. "Fair," she sighed. "That's fair."

Ser'ket shifted. "You should have-"

"Shut up!" Elulim turned on her. "Be quiet, dragon-skin! This does not involve you."

Ser'ket glowered. "Oh, but it does," she growled. "Every part of this involves me."

"How do you figure that?"

"Because she," Ser'ket pointed at Hawkmoon, "made a wish. I'm here to perform damage control. You should be thanking me."

Elulim rolled veir shoulders and straightened up, though ve still wasn't as tall as Ser'ket. "I think you're talking a load of molt," ve hissed. "As it is, you're little better than the Drezhari; this is our world. These are our forests. No one extended you an invitation."

"My jurisdiction is universal."

"Oh, I disagree."

"It's refreshing to watch others argue in our stead," Augur remarked. Hawkmoon rolled her optics. He continued: "Certainly more amusing."

"Please just shut up," Hawkmoon groaned. Ser'ket looked at her with narrowed optics. Elulim didn't react whatsoever. "I mean," Hawkmoon amended, "this... this is just pointless. You two can argue later-"

"Gladly," Elulim muttered.

"-but I'd be happier putting this fragging place behind me sooner rather than later. Can we think about moving in the next breem or so?"

"We've only just arrived."

"'Lulim, we need to get the hell away. The Stratocracy needs to know, yeah?"

"Yes." Some of the fire in ver abated. Ve broke off her glare for Ser'ket and glanced the way of the reliquary. "Aspheri wasn't wrong. This... this will not be met with cheers and celebration when we return."

"There's no helping that now."

"No. I suppose there's not."

"So what's our move?" Hawkmoon asked. "We hitting up that outpost?"

"Do we have any choice?" Elulim looked away. "We'll quit this place shortly. It was never meant for us."

"You having a change of heart?"

"Two of my kin are dead," Elulim said sharply, glancing back Hawkmoon's way. "Two. That is no little loss. And it could have so easily been all of us."

"My, ah, my sympathies," Hawkmoon said carefully.

Elulim snorted. "A waste. You mistake my apprehension for grief. I'm not concerned with what has happened, but what will happen."

"And what's that?"

"A tighter leash. Another half-lucid eternity of pod-sleep." Elulim trailed off, glanced at Ser'ket as if just remembering her, and scowled. "We should make ready."

Rampage's spark shuddered. Hawkmoon had to restrain the urge to kick it. Instead she picked it up and shoved it under one arm. "What about the bodies?" she inquired.

"Leave them," Elulim said flippantly. "They're nothing but meat now."

Hawkmoon made a face. "Grim."

Elulim walked away, back to the bodies of the Drezhari, and tilted veir head. "The aristo-tech."

"Yeah, uh, Rampage shot it," Hawkmoon said. "I took the death-wand, but he broke it."

Elulim nodded, reached down and tugged on the aristo-tech's arm - once, twice, and then jabbed veir sharpened head down to tear it off at the shoulder. Ve tucked it under an arm and strolled back. "Come on," ve said, lowering veir neck. Hawkmoon raised an optical ridge but took ver up on it all the same; she hooked her arm over veir shoulders, leaning into Elulim.

"Thanks," she muttered. Hawkmoon didn't look to see if Ser'ket followed, but she heard the clanking of pedes falling clear enough.

Aspheri joined up with them not long after, dragging behind ver a bandolier weighed down with datachips and memory cores, along with a couple of vials and glass jars full of obsidian flakes. They carried a bad air with them, even if muted, and Hawkmoon instinctively shied away from ver; she'd lived too long in the Light to comfortably walk in the shadow of the Dark for any extended time. It was like sandpaper on her sensitive protoform, rough and animated and all but alive. If Aspheri took any notice, though, ve didn't let it show. Even Elulim, stuck by her side, made a pretty good show of ignoring her aversion.

The forest they trudged through had changed. It seemed... brighter, for want of a better word. More vibrant. Still dark, still tinged with red and black and still full of tension, but when Hawkmoon looked upon it she liked what she saw. She liked... that she was still alive. That she was still functioning. That she was still free. It was probably her remaining optic acting up, self-calibrating to account for the lack of sensory input the other optic was feeding into her processor, but it left her in a lighter mood regardless - in spite of... well, just about everything.

"And he struck you," Elulim murmured. Hawkmoon had been in the midst of recounting her confrontation with Rampage.

She nodded, slightly. "He didn't wait around."

"Why?"

"I told you, this was all a bait-job."

"But the reliquary-"

"Was his..." Hawkmoon hesitated. What was she supposed to say? His former shrine? His monument to forgotten masters and past sins? "Was a safe-house of his," she managed to say. "Of a sort. The perfect place to lead someone astray and kill them off."

"But why?" Elulim demanded. "Rampage was never so overtly hostile before."

"Not to you, maybe. But he didn't like me. Not for what I've done."

"And what is that?"

Hawkmoon paused. "Something that should be unrelated. I'm still trying to figure out why it isn't."

Elulim trained veir eyes forwards. "I do not like this."

"Rampage was the aggressor."

"I hear you, I believe you, but it does not make sense. What of his heart?"

Hawkmoon pursed her lips. "It's his. It's him. I cut it away, so he couldn't reassemble himself. 'Lulim, the Drezhari hit him with the death-wand. I hit him with the death-wand. He got back up every single time. I killed him a couple of times and he still came back to fight me all over again."

"Self-repair mods?"

"Never heard of nanites so aggressively benign before," Hawkmoon replied. "Naw, it's something else. Deathlessness doesn't come easily; it's a curse higher entities bestow, nothing less."

"'Higher entities'?" Elulim echoed.

"The architects of that reliquary. The perpetrator behind the red shadows."

Elulim snorted. "Otherworld spirits."

"Nihilists with an edge."

"Nihilism?" Elulim shook veir head. "Life thrives around the reliquary. Strange, dangerous alien life, but life nonetheless. That does not strike me as nihilistic."

"Then you aren't looking hard enough," Hawkmoon tiredly retorted. "The reliquary is the real prize, and all it's done so far is draw people in to die."

"People. Not beasts. Life-"

"Unintelligent life thrives, maybe, but when have garden snakes and praying mantids and fungal clusters ever changed the world? It's a people-killer, that place, that thing. And it's doing a wonderful job of it."

Elulim glanced at her. "Are you alright?"

Hawkmoon grimaced. "Losing myself. My pain inhibitors are dialling down. It's getting harder and harder to keep them running."

"Where's the brunt of your damage?"

"Helm. Everything hurts, but that's the part that worries me most."

"I see." Elulim paused. "We have a few days of travel yet. Try not to die."

"Working on it."

They stopped for the night in the shadow of a massive dead tree. That was the only reason they dared camp so close to it, huddled between giant rotting roots and with the trunk at their backs. It wasn't an optimal position to set down, and Hawkmoon did not like how cornered it left them, but Elulim was calling the shots and ve reasoned that the presence of the tree would ward off most sizable predators. Of the red shadows nothing was said, but then, Hawkmoon supposed, it didn't matter where they were because none of them were in a state to fend off the entities.

She sat with her back to one of the roots. Augur paced before her, haggard and thin but wide alert, and he kept watch while she sorted through her internal system's damage reports. The results were far from comforting. Too many fractures to account for, too many sensors going dark, too much energon lost. She was all but running on fumes. Hawkmoon judged that she had two local days of walking left in her, maybe, before stasis-lock would take over. Flying was a no-go; her thrusters would burn through her remaining fuel stores within minutes. And all because Rampage had shattered her cockpit. It ached still, the chamber within still tender and raw and rife with too many stinging lacerations. The whole area crawled with invisible nanites hard at work, trying to mend the worst of the damage. The leaks had been quenched, thankfully, so she wasn't at risk of further energon loss.

Ser'ket ambled over after a little while. Aspheri and Elulim watched her do so, but they didn't stop her. She came to a halt in front of Hawkmoon and knelt down.

"Yeah?" Hawkmoon tiredly inquired. "What do you want?"

"You know."

"Now's not a good time."

"Would you rather I bring it up after we return? Before an Eimin-Tini tribunal and under Thunderhowl's watch?"

"This one is curious," Augur commented. "And she has you pinned down. I don't fancy your odds, Hawkmoon."

Thanks Augur, Hawkmoon drily thought. "Thunderhowl's lost the plot."

"He's grieving."

"So was I, but he offered me an out," Hawkmoon snarled with a vehemence she couldn't hold in any longer. "That was his deal from the get-go."

"I can't imagine he promised you the chance to kill a dragon," Ser'ket remarked. "That was of your own volition - against his judgement."

"I never agreed to be his underling."

"You were but an initiate-"

"And now I'm going freelance," Hawkmoon snapped. "That's the end of it. Leave it be."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because dragons, as you well know, are the most voracious and terrible predators to stalk between the stars. I cannot in good faith let you walk free - not without ensuring the beast is dead."

"Aiakos is dead. You destroyed all that remained. Dragons don't hide in thoughts."

Ser'ket shook her helm. "You don't know them as I do."

"Oh, of course not - because you've embraced them so utterly. Took them into your own frame."

"Their shape. Not their hunger. There's a marked difference, Seeker." Ser'ket's optics flashed. "I'm beginning to fear the opposite may be true for you."

"And how do you figure that?"

"You killed Rampage. A free mech."

"He's not of the clans," Hawkmoon reminded her. "He's not of the lodges. Why do you care?"

"About him? I didn't. I don't. But you still killed your fellow Cybertronian. Murder is not a good look for any of us."

"It's about appearances, then?"

"It's about safety. It's about keeping the peace." Ser'ket settled on her haunches. "All I ask is that I get to interview you. A simple test."

"To do what?"

"To betray the dragon in you, if it's there."

Hawkmoon opened her mouth to let fly a scathing retort-

"Why not?" Augur said.

-and stopped. She refrained from looking at him; that would have been too suspect. But she waited. Waited for him to continue. He didn't disappoint.

"An interview does not sound overly invasive," Augur mused. "Besides, would that not be to our interests? Aiakos is dead, yes; let her remain so. You would no more welcome a Hive parasite than a dragon, Hawkmoon. You loathe too strongly. We must be careful that this hate does not lead us too far astray."

He had a point, Hawkmoon decided. Just not one that wholly convinced her.

"You're saying a lot of 'I HAVE TO' and 'I MUST' for someone with no leverage over me," Hawkmoon remarked. "Why should I even listen to you?"

"To keep-"

"The peace, yeah yeah, you said that already."

Ser'ket's optics narrowed. "For your own safety and everyone else's."

"According to you."

"Am I wrong?"

"No. But I don't trust you. Like, at all."

"You need... what?"

"I need... I need insurance." Hawkmoon lifted her helm. "Fine. An interview, then. But on one condition."

"And that is?" Ser'ket said unhappily.

"That we do this here and now. With our Akildn buddies watching."

"Ah. Because you trust them."

"No more than I should," Hawkmoon said. "And no less. However they feel about me after all that's been done, they like you a whole lot less."

"They won't care for either of us."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. 'Lulim and I have been striking up a modicum of faith in each other."

"If that is what you want, Seeker," Ser'let reluctantly told her. "But to what end?"

"That if you try something untoward, you're going to find yourself in a bad way. These Akildn are quick, aren't they? Fierce too. Your odds aren't good."

"And if I must take action against you?"

"Pray that you don't. I'm walking out of this alive, Ser'ket. You can too - so long as you keep your word and play nice."

"Be careful who you threaten," Ser'ket growled.

"I've threatened you, like, five times already. Don't act all surprised."

"I don't appreciate it."

"Tough scrap." Hawkmoon glanced past her. "Elulim?"

"Yeah?" Elulim perked up, veir eyes narrowed.

"Would you do me a favour?"

Elulim stalked over. "What would that entail?"

"Would you watch Ser'ket for me? She's going to ask me questions. I'd like it if you kept her from trying to physically harm me."

"I see." Elulim looked at Ser'ket with naked distaste. "Yes. I can do that."

"Thank you." Hawkmoon turned back to Ser'ket. "There. I'm good to go."

Ser'ket bared her teeth, then sighed and sat down, folding her legs underneath her. "You're dangerous, Seeker. Recklessly so."

"I'm just trying to stay alive."

"At the cost of everyone else?"

Hawkmoon frowned. "I'm not that bad."

"Not as you see it."

"Now you're wasting our time. Get a move on or we're done with this."

Ser'ket reached into her chassis' internal storage and plucked out a datapad, along with a handful of thin steel slates. They vaguely resembled playing cards. She arrayed them across the ground between herself and Hawkmoon in a fan-like arc, face-down, and finally activated her datapad. A projector on the end of it flickered to life and animated a small, blue-hued panorama in the air at optic-level. Colours flashed by, shapes merged and diverged; it shifted steadily, drawing her focus inwards and refusing to let go.

"Skies - open, wide, clear of clouds and devoid of smog. What do you feel?"

"What?" Hawkmoon questioned.

"What do you feel?" Ser'ket impatiently asked again.

"... Free. I feel free."

"Only that?"

"I feel exposed."

Ser'ket played a servo over the slate-cards, then picked one seemingly at random and turned it over. A digi-image of strange alien birds soared across its surface, the image of crosshairs settling on the head of the leader. She lifted her helm and looked back at Hawkmoon. "A forest - thick, dark, loud, full of life. What do you feel?"

"Hidden. Surrounded."

Another card, but depicting a woodland instead. Not quite unlike their current position, though not totally separate either. Yellow eyes peered through the gloom beneath foliage, predatory and hungry. Ser'ket nodded to herself. "Do you dream?"

"I... what?"

"Do you dream?"

Hawkmoon's mind whirled. Yes, she thought. Yes I dream, as all Exos dream - as all humans before us dreamed. But Cybertronians don't dream, do they? No. "No, I don't dream."

An unreadable look crossed Ser'ket's faceplates. "An ocean," she continued, "broad and blue and clear as crystal. What do you feel?"

"I know this test," Augur said suddenly. He sounded like he was smiling. "Clever little dragon-eater."

Hawkmoon blinked, though resisted the urge to look at him. "I feel like I'm..." Drowning, she almost said. "Like I'm sinking."

"How does the water feel?" Ser'ket inquired.

"Cold. Like ice, seeping under my plating and between my gears."

"And what do you see under the waves?"

"Shadows."

"Shadows?"

"Sharks," Hawkmoon hesitantly clarified. "Dark silhouettes cutting against the blue."

Another card, painted with the glowing image of a jagged fin cutting through rough water. It wasn't a shark like she imagined it - ridges and spines where there should have only been cartilage and sandpaper-scaled skin - but it was close enough.

"I see," Ser'ket murmured.

"See what?"

No answer. Not for a breem and a half, anyways. Ser'ket vented deeply and rose to her pedes. "You're not Aiakos," she said at last, "nor are you host to her lingering consciousness."

Hawkmoon frowned. "That was quick."

"It never takes long," Augur told her. "Never. The old ones had fine-tuned the process to only a handful of questions; this one is well-educated in matters the universe would have otherwise forgotten."

"I've learned all I needed to," Ser'ket said. The fire in her, the suspicion, the determination - it all left her. Her pauldrons slumped and her wings were limp against her back. "You're no dragon."

"Told you."

"But you could be."

Hawkmoon's frown deepened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ser'ket hesitated. "Not here," she said at last.

"Why not?"

"Because I won't leave it to chance that the Drezhari are truly gone - or that we can trust the Eimin-Tin."

Elulim's wings shuddered and rose, veir indignation flushing their glossy lengths with vibrant rainbow colour. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing that isn't true," Ser'ket shot back. "Drop it, Akildn." She turned, then, and walked to the edge of their impromptu camp.

"Strange woman," Hawkmoon muttered.

Elulim snorted, still grumpy. "She's peculiar, yes."

"Frustratingly so."

"You're telling me. Pretentious scrap-walker," Elulim softly spat. "We could take her now and leave her remains for the forest."

"That's... murder, 'Lulim," Hawkmoon said slowly, eying the Akildn warily.

"You've proposed as much before."

"To intimidate her, give ourselves some room to maneuver. Nothing more. We're not killing her."

"All those dangerous words you spout - it's all just for show, isn't it?" Elulim turned to her. "You're soft on the inside, Hawkmoon."

"Yeah. 'Course I am. Because I dealt with Rampage softly." Hawkmoon flashed her functioning optic. "Don't go making a mistake you'll regret, 'Lulim."

Elulim looked at her a moment longer before grunting and hunkering down. "Perhaps you're right," ve murmured. "But Ser'ket is right; you're no dragon anymore, real or not."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just makes you that little bit more material. That little bit more relatable. It's... not quite as exciting as before." Elulim studied her. "What will you do now?"

Hawkmoon mulled it over.

"Go, stay - what does it matter anymore?" Augur questioned. "We're not making waves, Hawkmoon. Not as we should. We're changing things, but not enough."

"I..." Hawkmoon glanced at him out of the corner of her vision. "I need answers."

"Answers?" Elulim tilted veir head.

"Yeah. I might stay a little while. I might leave. There's benefits to both. What I want is answers, just... I don't know the right questions yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Hawkmoon sighed. "Just rambling."

"Are you sure your injuries haven't rattled anything loose in there?" Elulim asked, bemused, and gestured to Hawkmoon's helm.

Hawkmoon waved ver off. "It's fine, I'm fine."

"You're not."

"Maybe, but I'm lucid. Want a translation? Don't poke me. I've still got some fight left and you really don't want to draw it out."

"Ooooh." Elulim shivered. "My kind of talk."

Hawkmoon rolled her optics. Optic. "Leave me alone."

"If you wish." Elulim straightened up. "Recharge if you can. We won't linger here long."

They marched through the night. Augur nipped at Hawkmoon's heels, trying to keep her on the straight and true path, but she was feeling the effects of energon loss a little too keenly to keep a quick pace. All too soon she became weary and sluggish, lagging behind the others. She would have lost track of them entirely if not for Elulim keeping a careful eye on her, calling a stop when she threatened to fall behind completely. She offered ver a fleeting, wavering smile that didn't reach her optics, earning her a scrutinizing glare in return.

"You're in a bad way," Elulim said.

"Stating the obvious, are we?" Hawkmoon muttered.

"You should have stayed behind."

"With the red shadows? Not a chance."

"We could have-"

"No one's gonna fly out this way. You and I both know that. The forest's too dangerous for that. Either I walk or I rust."

"What do you need?" Ser'ket inquired.

Hawkmoon spared her a scathing look. "Nothing from you.

Ser'ket raised an optical ridge. "Are you still upset?"

"Yep."

"Childish."

"Yeah, yeah, get fragged." Hawkmoon looked away. "We can keep moving."

"Can we?" Elulim questioned.

"I'm not dead yet."

Aspheri snorted. "Good outlook to keep," ve murmured approvingly. "Then we keep going. Until you drop."

"Thanks," Hawkmoon drily replied. She walked past ver and didn't turn to check if the others were following.

The second night crept up on them and caught them unawares. Or maybe not, maybe it was just her; Hawkmoon had switched her internal chronometer off to conserve power. Probably wouldn't change much in the grand scheme of things, but it was something at least. The only thing she refused to tinker with were her pain inhibitors, but they were sliding down on their own, fighting her every step of the way. They made camp and Hawkmoon all but collapsed on the ground, her spark thrumming slower than was healthy and a blanket of numbness pulling at the edges of her mind. She clung to Rampage's spark, feeling it beat under her claws, and she bitterly mused that even dissected and dismembered as he was, he was still somehow more alive than she was.

"You're dying," Augur whispered by her audial. He crouched over her, his head tilted, and nudged her forehead with his snout. "Your mortality is catching up with you."

Hawkmoon offlined her functioning optic. "Fuck."

"How long do you have left?"

Not long. Not long at all.

Someone settled down beside her. Fingers, cold and slender, closed her shoulder and gently shook her. "Hawkmoon," Elulim whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Hawkmoon nodded. Weakly.

"You're not going to make it," Elulim said. It wasn't a question.

She nodded again.

"Seeker frames are energy intensive," Ser'ket said. She sounded so distant. "The Vosian grade of fuel is usually finer than the norm. I can't imagine her system's been taking it well, subsisting off lodge-produced reserves."

"You've been starving her?" Elulim barked.

"Us? No. Our fuel just doesn't pack the same energy yield. Her tanks might be full, but they aren't processing the same output. She's burning through it faster. Her nanites have probably shaved through most of what was left."

"What are you saying?"

"The Cybertronian system can only take so much punishment - and you don't need me to point out her frame-wide cracks and fractures. She's careless with the damage she takes. It's finally catching up with her."

"Still... alive," Hawkmoon softly snapped.

"You need help."

"We all know that," Elulim said, annoyed. "We'll repair her as soon as we return."

"She needs a surgeon."

"She'll get it."

"A Cybertronian surgeon. Not Eimin-Tin. Someone who can truly see the damage for what it is, not for what they assume it to be."

"Do you see any Cybertronian surgeons about? No?" Elulim clicked veir teeth. "No. You do not. We're still stranded in the wild, dragon."

"But we can keep her stable," Ser'ket retorted.

"How?"

"Energon transfusion."

"No." Hawkmoon tried to sit up. She could barely move. Augur pranced back in front of her.

"Stay down," he snapped. "Conserve your strength."

She halfheartedly swiped at him. He ducked under the blow and leapt up onto her lap. Hawkmoon hissed out a vent; he felt heavier than she was used to. Almost too heavy to bear.

"Yes," Ser'ket said. She was already pulling a cable out of internal storage. "You'll need to open a port and clear the nanites, Seeker."

"I won't. I-"

Elulim tightened veir hold. "Just do it, Hawkmoon."

Hawkmoon shivered. "I don't want this."

"If you don't, you die."

"I..." Hawkmoon vented again. "Okay. Okay. Fine."

Ser'ket nodded and knelt down beside her. "Okay. Akildn, check her injuries. This won't work if she's still leaking."

Elulim gingerly pushed Hawkmoon back doawn and inspected the front of her chassis. "Clotted," ve reported. "Where will-"

"Here." Ser'ket tapped Hawkmoon's left arm, just over her elbow. "Seeker?"

Hawkmoon reluctantly retreated into her own processor and forced her plating to pull back. "There."

"The nanites?"

"Barely active at all."

"Call them off."

"... Done." Hawkmoon onlined her optic.

"Good." Ser'ket opened up another panel on her own limb and slotted the cable in. "We can't exchange processed energon as is, but I can siphon some electrical power for you."

"My stores are low."

"I know. But I'm not chancing virus. This will tide you over until we return. But only if you..." Ser'ket pressed the other end of the cable into Hawkmoon's arm and paused. "Or... not. Oh, you fool. You're running on reserves!"

"Quiet!" Elulim snapped. "Remember where you are!"

Ser'ket had the decency to look apologetic. "This is bad," she grimly reported. "What were you doing?"

"Killing... Rampage," Hawkmoon muttered.

Ser'ket glanced at her, guardedly. "And you need to account for that, but this is more. More than Rampage."

"The serpent," Hawkmoon vented. "Nacelle."

"You're killing yourself."

"I want to live."

"Cutting it pretty close, then, Seeker." Ser'ket looked at Elulim. "She'll need to go into stasis-lock."

"Meaning?" Elulim questioned.

"We'll have to drag her."

"Out here?!"

"Do you have a better option? My wings are still torn; I can't exactly fly us out."

"We'll do it," Aspheri said quickly, cutting Elulim off. Ve shot her a warning look. "We will. Won't we... 'Lulim?"

Elulim glowered. "The choice is hers," ve growled.

They looked down at her.

"I can walk," Hawkmoon reasoned.

"No," Ser'ket scolded, "you can't."

"I'm not going into 'lock."

"You don't have a choice."

"You can't make me."

"It's this or offline, Seeker."

"I won't," Hawkmoon retorted, some of her old anger rising to the surface.

"You need to," Augur said to her, then. He pushed up in front of her, capturing her focus. "Fear it if you may, but you'll only survive here if you trust."

"I won't leave myself unguarded," Hawkmoon said - to him and them both.

"Unguarded? Nay. I will be here," Augur vowed. "I will watch over you. I will ward away all worldly dangers until you can take care of yourself. You know I will - because I have no more choice in the matter than you do."

"There... should always be a choice."

"You don't believe that."

No. No, she didn't. Hawkmoon gritted her denta and let her helm fall back.

"Seeker?" Ser'ket said warily.

"Just..." Hawkmoon flicked a digit in her direction. "Do as you will."

"You need to-"

"Go away."

"If that is what you want. Choose soon." Ser'ket slowly stood up and retreated a respectful distance without another word. Aspheri glanced at her, then Hawkmoon and did the same, leaving her only with Elulim and Augur.

"You and your pride," Augur scoffed before padding out of sight.

Hawkmoon closed her servos into fists, claws retracing over well-worn scars. Our pride, she almost said. You're not so different. Not as you pretend to be.

"Hawkmoon," Elulim said.

She listened.

"Where are your rations?"

"Don't have any," Hawkmoon told ver.

"Why?"

"Couldn't exactly requisition any. Couldn't let Thunderhowl know."

"You never asked us. We could have provided."

"Never thought I'd need to."

Elulim grunted. "Careless. And you say I have a death wish."

"You do."

"I'm not the one on the ground, starving."

"No," Hawkmoon whispered. "Just throwing yourself at every vice to catch your fancy, only on the assumption that someone'll be there to catch you when you fall."

"Are we so different?"

"This was an innocent mistake."

"Oh, do tell."

"I'm just... used to playing things different."

"You don't learn."

"No, I'm..." Hawkmoon offlined her optic. "I realize I'm slow on that front."

"No. You're an apt hunter, that's clear to everyone. You're quick and you're crafty. But you're distracted. Anyone can use that against you. Rampage already has."

"He's dead."

"Then why are you clinging to his heart like a pauper would a coin?"

"To make sure it sticks."

Elulim exhaled fitfully. "I don't know whether to begrudge you your stubbornness or admire it. We could leave you here, you know. We should."

"But you won't."

"And you're sure of that why?"

"Because I..." Hawkmoon trailed off. Because I trust you won't, she thought.

There was a period of silence after that.

"I'm not totally out of energon," Hawkmoon said at last. "You... That red energon tracer."

Elulim looked down at her. Sharply. "What of it?"

"We could break it open. I could drink it up."

"I'm not sure..."

"You've already tried it."

"In vapour form, not liquid - and it still almost killed me."

"Because you're organic. Not Cybertronian."

"And what then? You'll pass us by, reach the outpost and die of fuel shortage there before we even arrive. There's no telling of the damage it would wreak on your system either, consumed raw."

"It's something," Hawkmoon reasoned.

"It's something," Elulim agreed, "but are you really so desperate?"

"Pretty fragging close to it."

"Close your eyes, Hawkmoon. Do as the dragonling says."

"You don't even want to lug me behind you."

"No. But it's that or leave you for dead - and you're far too interesting to hand over to the trees."

"I..." Hawkmoon winced. "I don't want to."

"It's irritating, yes, but-"

"How would you feel about it?"

Elulim tilted veir head. "I'm not allowed to," ve said softly. "Oh, I know how you feel - because I feel the same every time my handlers shove me into a pod to heal. To replenish my strength and repair the damage instilled in this fragile vessel of mine. But whatever arguments I form in my head always fall flat the moment they take to the air - because they are ultimately petty and small-minded."

"I'm not Akildn," Hawkmoon complained. "It's different."

"Isn't it?"

"You're lashing out because you can't take the constant care and control they hold over you - but you're protected. Worshipped. Served and provided for at every turn. I don't have that. It's me and only me and it'll stay that way forever."

"Because you lost someone dear."

Hawkmoon onlined her optic. "What?"

"You're grieving, you said," Elulim reminded her. "You're grieving for someone. A lover."

"More than that."

"What could be more-"

"A best friend. Two best friends. Partners to the end." Hawkmoon bit her glossa before it could wag any further. "I'm over it."

"No you're not."

"I'm tired of it. But that doesn't change the fact that I've got no one in my corner. You don't want to go to sleep because you feel like you're missing out on the world. I don't want to go to sleep because I'm not sure I'm ever going to wake up again."

"But if you don't, you die."

"I die." Hawkmoon sighed. "And everyone else with me."

"What do you mean?"

"... Tell you later. If I wake up."

"Hawkmoon-"

"Things're bad, 'Lulim. You just don't see it yet. But I'll help you open your eyes - so long as you make sure I live long enough to open mine again. Just promise me something."

"What's that?"

Hawkmoon weakly pushed Rampage's spark over. "Keep that out of Ser'ket's hands. Away from everyone Cybertronian. Hold it close and don't let go. I'm not done with it yet."

Elulim looked down at it. "I was never fond of him," ve said, "but even so..."

"Will you do it?"

"For you?" Elulim looked back at her. Ve shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Hawkmoon nodded her thanks. She wanted to let out a breath of relief, but her inorganic frame wouldn't allow for it. The pit where her lungs used to be panged with an old, imaginary ache. "Thank you."

"Will you...?"

"I will. Don't... Don't let me die." Hawkmoon reached inwards. She reached and reached and reached - until she found that switch in herself that wavered between life and death and was the decisive factor between.

/QUERY: ENTER STASIS-LOCK?/

She flicked it on.

Everything turned dark.

She was somewhere else/She was somewhere dark/She was somewhere new. A laboratory/A production line/A pressurized chamber built for other life. Adria cradled in her hands a crumpled picture/Lennox-1 clutched a shard of broken metal/Hawkmoon held out her Nullblade, pommel first and the blade still retracted.

"It's been a good run/Please/I'm not right for it," Adria whispered/Lennox begged/Hawkmoon sighed.

The photograph didn't reply/The other woman, of flesh-and-blood, held out her own hand expectantly/Something shifted on the edge of the room, loping behind her.

"Are you ready/I won't repeat myself/She judged differently," a doctor asked/Elisabeth Bray snapped/the creature wheezed through a faulty vocal-synthesizer.

"I... I guess I am/I hate you all/What if she was wrong?" Adria muttered/Lennox gasped/Hawkmoon questioned. She dropped the photograph/She tossed the impromptu knife away/She all but shoved the sword over. The doctor indicated to a nearby surgical table/Elisabeth Bray crossed her arms and shot her a reprimanding look/The creature delicately took it, six raptorial talons closing over Hawkmoon's servo.

"Would you sit over here, please/This is the fifth time you've broken protocol/She was never wrong."

"Sure/Why should I-/She never understood me as she did the rest of you."

Adria sat on the table and laid down as the doctor moved around her/Elisabeth Bray's face contorted with frustrated anger/The creature held the Nullblade aloft. "Thank you/This is the last time/It was never about understanding. I'll be a moment, please remain here/One more incident and you'll be the next to enter the portal/It was only ever about hope."

Warm. She woke up warm. Smothered. A hard surface at her back and invisible knifes in her head, filling her processor with broken glass. The constant body-wide ache was still there, still present. Her mouth was dry and full of dust. There was a weight on her chest. A moving, living weight, poking around her chassis. Hawkmoon onlined her optics - two of them, clear and operational and intact. But something was wrong. Something was wrong with her sight, though she couldn't put a finger on it.

The weight shifted. Hawkmoon lifted her helm - and flinched as she beheld the thing with many, many appendages elbow deep in her chest, sifting through her internal mechanisms with disarming familiarity. The thing's head turned her way, shining with six red optics, and it offered her a smile full of needle-sharp denta. "Seeker," the thing gnashed.

Hawkmoon moved before she realized what she was doing, closing a servo around the machine's short, thin neck and lifting it up. It was barely half her size and weighed much less. The creature slapped at her wrist with its many servos, warbling out a high-pitched, "WAIT, WAIT!"

"Who the frag-"

Motion, on the edge of her vision. Hawkmoon glanced to the side and spotted a pair of Eimin-Tin holding scalpels and wrenches, staring at her. She looked around, taking in the sight of the room's curved, almost organic architecture, and came to the conclusion that she was back in Eimin-Tin territory.

"Nettle!" the spider-thing gasped. "I Nettle! Insecticon! Spare me, preserve me, let me live!"

Hawkmoon looked back at it and scowled. She none-too-gently dropped it and levered herself up into a sitting position, looking down at herself. Her chassis was... well, it was open. The entire cockpit had been removed and her plating had been set aside, with the protoform beneath bared to the open air. She could see her energon lines, her fuel tanks, the protective shell around her spark and even the gilded edge of her own T-cog. Wires ran out of her, along the berth and across the floor all the way to a machine hooked up to a holographic monitor.

"Where am I?" Hawkmoon demanded, once more settling her narrowed gaze on the Insecticon.

Nettle tenderly rubbed their neck. "Akildn tower, Seeker, yes-yes. Is safe. Very safe. No danger. No foe. Safe, yes? Please safe."

"Elulim's tower?"

"Big Akildn, strong, very big, very strong," Nettle stammered. "Very angry-violent. With Ser'ket. Tell Nettle to help."

Elulim's, then. Hawkmoon looked back to the Eimin-Tin. "Where is ve?"

The serpents looked at each other then back at her. Neither spoke.

"They have no tongues, Hawkmoon," Augur said. He pounced up on the berth's headrest behind her. She barely glanced at him. "Indentured serfs, nothing more. You should let them get back to work."

"What are you doing?" Hawkmoon asked, throwing the question Nettle's way. She motioned to the monitor.

"Fixing!" Nettle squeaked.

Hawkmoon frowned. Her fuel tanks were half-full, her helm felt... well, better at least, and her chassis didn't sting near so much. "I see."

"We fix, yes?"

"I... yes." Hawkmoon slowly, warily laid back down. "Where's Elulim?"

"Akildn? Talk-walk with thorntail-serpent. Very loud, very important, very cross."

"Thema?"

Nettle hesitated. "Not Akildn."

"Can you call ver?" Hawkmoon queried.

"Call-summon Ser'ket?"

"No, not her. Elulim."

"No code. Nettle not know Akildn-code."

"... Fine." Hawkmoon looked back the way of the Eimin-Tin. "One of you get ver. Yeah? Tell ver I'm awake."

The serpents ducked their sharp heads. One of them flicked their thorned tails and scurried to the nearest doorway, dialing in an access code and slipping through. It clicked shut behind them.

"Seeker?" Nettle said in a small voice. "Nettle fix?"

"What?" Hawkmoon looked at them. "Oh. Right. Alright. But no funny business."

"No funny, yes-yes, no tricksy cuts." Nettle cautiously approached her and, after shooting her faceplates a nervous glance, reached back into her chassis. "Nettle fix good. Ser'ket happy."

"I'm sure she is," Hawkmoon mumbled, not a little confused. "But what's she got to do with this?"

Nettle paused. "Seeker systems good. Seeker systems strong. Very strong - like beastformer. Room for codex, yes? Much room for modification. Maybe Seeker let Nettle help with modification?"

"What are you... You mean a Krenshan transformation codex?"

"Prey-kill codex, yes-yes. Ser'ket want Nettle check. Seeker frame very good, changes well!" Nettle reached inside and began doing... something. Glyphs slid across her HUD; her pain inhibitors were down and her nanites on standby. Her entire frame had been manually shifted into maintenance mode. Weapons systems were offline and combat protocols were locked away. Internal scans were in full swing - but each report they ferried back to her processor only carried good news. It was a far cry from the constant influx of damage reports she was used to.

"Why does she want to know that?" Hawkmoon pressed, bewildered and disturbed. The idea of someone poking around her frame to make sure she could run certain mods just... it didn't sit right with her. Not even a little. A gross overstepping of boundaries, really. The relief that came from waking up again, from realizing she was back in friendly territory, it all but disintegrated.

Nettle paused. "Krenshan, yes?" they asked warily.

"No!"

"Oh." Nettle chittered, their mandibles clicking erratically. "Strange. But Ser'ket say, Nettle follow. Is good, yes? Seeker is built strong, is built well, is built for many new change-shift. Yes?"

"What are you doing now?"

"Nettle check for infrastructure damage. Energon lines all repaired, yes. Struts very strong, already mend fractures. Seeker frame tired, Nettle treat well, give it fix."

"I'm not..." Hawkmoon trailed off. She was tired. As if there was a weight pulling on all her limbs, even lying down. She'd thought it had been the grief from before, or maybe aftershocks from her broken trine bond, but now... "What does that entail?"

"Nettle already top up coolant and reinforce energon processors. Now Nettle investigate frame-modifications. Very expensive. Very thirsty. Seeker has some alien modifications; very strange, very interesting. Move matter, yes?"

"Yes," Hawkmoon murmured. Her servo twitched. "Leave that alone."

"Yes-yes, very..." Nettle paused, "very eco-nomi-cal. But spark-neighbour very different. Very angry."

"What're you-" Hawkmoon's optics widened. "No! Get away from that!"

Nettle rose up and skittered back, their red eyes flashing with fear. "Nettle no damage!" they cried out.

Hawkmoon levered herself back up and looked down. Now that she thought about it, there was a cluster of cables and wiring nestled beside the shell of her sparkchamber and just over her T-cog, all wrapped around some silver mass. Aperture scrambler, she remembered. Her little unconventional superweapon. "That's... important," Hawkmoon said with some difficulty. "Don't touch it."

"Nettle no touch," the Insecticon warily vowed.

"Just don't..." Hawkmoon grimaced. "Am I fixed up?"

"Yes, but Nettle should administer-"

"Leave it. Everything feels fine; if I have a problem, I'll find you another time. Just put me back together."

"Uh... yes. Yes, Nettle can do that." Nettle cautiously lurched back and began gathering up the plating and frame-paneling they'd surgically removed. The remaining Eimin-Tin helped with that, jumping up beside Hawkmoon on the berth and assisting Nettle in slotting her armour back into place. After double-checking that her pain-inhibitors were still active in that area, Nettle began soldering the plates back together. Hawkmoon offlined her optics for the entirety of the process, unable to watch. It was only when the Eimin-Tin serf tapped her pauldron that she reactivated them and realized they had finished.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Nettle bowed their head. The Eimin-Tin swished their tail.

Hawkmoon rode the tower's elevator right down the lobby. No one stopped her. No one even so much as told her otherwise. There were a pair of armed Eimin-Tin guards at the bottom, but though they looked at her as she stepped out, they didn't say a single word. All they did was watch. There were other pairs scattered around the ground level, arrayed on either side of every doorway, but there was a startling lack of other staff. Only soldiers. Only guards. And Ser'ket, lounging by the front entrance with a datapad in hand.

"I do believe she's here for you," Augur mused.

"Shush," Hawkmoon muttered. She walked over, schooling her features. Ser'ket spotted her coming, pout the datapad into internal storage and tilted her helm.

"Nettle called me," she said. "Told me you onlined."

"In one piece too," Hawkmoon replied. "Was half expecting to end up in some sort of back alley chop shop."

Ser'ket raised an optical ridge.

"By which I mean thanks," Hawkmoon sighed.

"That must hurt. Putting away your pride like that."

"You'd know all about it," Hawkmoon shot back, "being a dragon and all. No pride like theirs."

Ser'ket's jaw tightened. "Do you want everyone to hate you?"

"You say that like you weren't on my case from the get-go."

"I had reason-"

"No reason to carry on like you were, threatening to break into my mind," Hawkmoon snapped. "All because I helped you. Because I saved you from falling to those... those liquid things."

Ser'ket opened her mouth. And closed it. She looked over Hawkmoon's shoulder and around the room. "Too many ears here," she muttered. "We should talk elsewhere."

"Naw, I think I'm done. With the lodges, with the clans, with you." Hawkmoon stepped back. "For good. I've had my taster and it was rotten to the core."

"You'll want to hear what I have to say," Ser'ket said carefully in a reserved, quiet tone.

"Every time I talk with you I get angry. Not so sure I want to-"

"Please," Ser'ket whispered, cutting her off.

Hawkmoon frowned, pursed her lips, studied the beastformer's faceplates. Bestial, but not unreadable. "Why?"

"I told you, you-"

"Will want to hear it, yeah yeah." Hawkmoon vented and glanced around. "Any idea where Elulim is? Aspheri?"

Ser'ket shrugged. "They've left me alone since we returned," she neutrally explained. "Why?"

"Don't ask me that," Hawkmoon warned, turning back to her. "Don't."

"They aren't-"

"Shut the frag up." Hawkmoon glared. Ser'ket had the decency to look cowed. "Fine," Hawkmoon decided at last. "We'll talk. Elsewhere. But I'm only giving you a breem of my time. Then I walk and you never see me again."

"So be it," Ser'ket grunted. She pushed away from the pillar. "I know a place nearby, quiet. Follow me."

Ser'ket's place turned out to be some sort of small public park, by the edge of an elaborate marble fountain. A couple of thin trees stood about, snapping at the small birds that flitted about, and some Eimin-Tin filtered through. But not many. Even the open streets were nearly deserted. Ser'ket sat by the fountain's edge and Hawkmoon hovered nearby, nowhere near comfortable enough to sit down.

"Your time starts now," Hawkmoon announced.

Ser'ket gave no indication of having heard her. She simply looked off into the distance. To the artificial press of the city. Time ticked by. Hawkmoon let it pass in silence, imagining herself just strolling away and leaving Ser'ket, the Krenshans, Aiakos, all of it behind her. Another life attempted. Another life lost. It was only when the breem was almost at its end that Ser'ket asked her, "Why did you kill the dragon?"

Hawkmoon shifted. "Because."

"Because?"

"She deserved it."

"Did she?"

"She was a dragon." Hawkmoon looked away. "Dragons are too dangerous to stay alive."

"A dragon hurt you," Ser'ket remarked.

Hawkmoon's helm snapped back in her direction.

"It's obvious," Ser'ket explained. "You feel too strongly on the matter."

"What makes you think-"

"So strongly you wouldn't even entertain the idea that the dragon might have used you as a vessel."

"Dragons. Don't. Do that," Hawkmoon said coldly.

"Seeker, there's no limit to what dragons can do," Ser'ket stubbornly replied. The façade broke not a moment later. "But you're right, despite everything. You're clear."

"I know I am."

"And you're dangerously cocky. I was too, after I killed my own." Ser'ket tapped her chest plate. "But I had someone there to stave the worst of my impulses off, before those impulses could kill me. And they had someone for them, before my time. And they... well, you get the idea. It's a line that harkens back to the days before Cybertron and all her many children took the shape they now currently wear. Before things evened out and started making sense."

"What's your point?"

Ser'ket vented a sigh. "I left something for you. Elulim's attendant, that creature Thema, had quarters set aside for you, right? I left you a parting gift there."

"What, to remember you by?" Hawkmoon incredulously asked.

"If we're fortunate," Ser'ket cryptically replied. "I don't ask for anything - not a gift in return, not a promise, not even a thank you. That's not how these things work. Wasn't for me. Wasn't for my predecessor. It won't be for you. Whatever happens... happens. I apologize for any undue pressure and insult I may have inflicted, but everything I've done has been for the greater good. I just hope that you have the same inclinations."

Ser'ket stood up.

"Hold on," Hawkmoon said. "Nettle-"

"I know. He reported as much to me as well. That you asked him questions."

"Why?" Hawkmoon pressed. "What the frag are you trying to do?"

Ser'ket barely glanced at her. "It's a gift," she said again. "Don't overthink it, Seeker. Just take it and thank your lucky stars I believe there's some decency still in you - that you still carry some fragging worth to the rest of us. You'll need it."

"What do you mean I'll-"

"Thunderhowl's gone," Ser'ket interrupted. "He left with everyone else two orns ago. While you were still in stasis-lock. The Insecticons will come back this way with an exterminator fleet, to demo the dragon's entire world from orbit and all those things hiding there. With luck the parasites will be rendered extinct. What few Insecticons remain here, on Penchant, will be picked up and returned to their nestpods on the return trip."

"And what does he intend for me?" Hawkmoon questioned.

"For you?" Ser'ket shook her helm. "Grief's hell, Seeker. It's the Pit. I know Thunderhowl. I know this isn't how he usually is - but Noctorro was dear to him. And he just wants someone to hurt for it. He's washing his servos of you."

"That all?"

"But even then he's not someone to abandon mecha in need," Ser'ket continued. "He's angry with you, he wants nothing else to do with you, but that doesn't mean he'll leave you stranded. Apparently you and him sent a message to Cybertron some decaorns past?"

Hawkmoon's spark dropped. She felt cold in that moment. Very, very cold. "What has he done?"

"Vos answered. And now they're curious. They've sent a formation to investigate. I believe they arrived at the Krenshan outpost just a few joors ago." Ser'ket paused and took stock. "He's told them about you. About where you are. About what you've done."

Hawkmoon's optics were wide. Her talons were back to pressing into her freshly-repaired palms. Ser'ket stood up and made to leave - then stopped. "Oh. And that Akildn friend of yours wouldn't surrender Rampage's spark. Your doing, I expect?"

Hawkmoon didn't reply. She couldn't.

"Consider this a friendly warning: avoid Insecticon-space for the foreseeable future. He wasn't one of theirs but they liked him well enough. And beware lodge-space too. Word will spread. If they catch you on your own, it could mean a trial. I don't know what happened with him, but you stole that chance from me - wringing some answers out of him. I can't help that now. Whatever happens next is up to you. Choose carefully." Ser'ket paused. "Good luck, Seeker. I think you'll need it."

Ser'ket left her there. Hawkmoon stood for a moment longer - then fell to her knees, panic curling around her spark and seizing it in a vice. Her processor whirled. "No."

"Hawkmoon-" Augur started to say.

"Fuck."

AN: Big thanks to Nomad Blue for editing!