The minute Bumblebee heard the news, he hopped the first bridge from Earth to Cybertron, meeting Knockout at the space-bridge that will teleport them to Nova Terra. They don't bother with talk outside of a brief greeting as they rush through the portal and enter the foyer of Nova Terra's main communications building.
"Oh, good, you're here!"
Octane was waiting on the other side of the portal, his frame tense with nerves.
"When I heard that Moonracer was unavailable, I started to panic! You have no idea how happy you've just made me!"
The triple-changer grabbed each mech by the arm and led them away.
"Octane, what's going on? Is everything alright?" Bumblebee asked, struggling to keep up with the larger mech.
"Oh scrap!" Octane cursed, turning back around and heading for the front door. "I forgot, Sandstorm's gonna kill me if I bring in a non-medic."
Octane didn't wait for the front door to fully open before shoving Bumblebee outside. He face-planted on the short, soft grass.
"Sorry!" Octane apologized before closing and locking the door.
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Bumblebee grumbled. He planted his servos on the ground and levered himself into a kneeling position. "I know you're busy, but it'd be nice to get an answer."
"Yer just talkin' to yourself, ya know."
Bumblebee startled. He looked up, optics widening as he gazed upon the crowd of Ex-Cons before him. To think that it wasn't all that long ago when they would have had no qualms about killing Bumblebee. He wouldn't be surprised if most if not all still do, but due to a variety of reasons, won't. The main reason being that he actually assisted in acquiring their new home.
"Like you don't talk to yourself, too, Thunderhoof," Bumblebee retorted, brushing away some mud that clumped on his plating. The Cervicon rolled his optics.
"Whatever."
Bumblebee ignored the Con's attitude. Picking a fight with Thunderhoof is usually never a good idea, but especially today of all days. Bumblebee is not going to risk it. He chooses to focus on everyone else surrounding him and Thunderhoof. There's a bunch of Ex-Cons that Bumblebee recognizes, plus a few he's never seen before. All are in robot mode except for one.
"What's going on with Saberhorn?" Bumblebee asked, having noticed the recharging Insecticon. He is being watched over by Glowstrike and Scorponok as he lays among a pile of data pads.
"He's taken on Steeljaw's workload as his cycle's progressed," Underbite explained from Thunderhoof's other side. "Sandstorm told Steeljaw that he shouldn't be working and stressing himself out, not good for the sparkling or something."
"Steeljaw decided to put Saberhorn in charge because of his diplomacy," Fracture added, the bounty hunter and his mini-cons lounging on Underbite's back. "Fella's been running ragged ever since."
"Well, that would do it," Bumblebee admitted. He saw the logic behind Steeljaw's decision, but he also felt bad for Saberhorn having to take on all that responsibility on such short notice. "And speaking of Steeljaw…"
"No news," Thunderhoof interrupted.
"Okay, what about everyone else? I notice there's a few bots missing, and Octane said something about Moonracer not coming?"
"Ask Hoof, he was the first one here," Fracture waved a servo at the Cervicon.
"Eyo, yous was here early, too!" Thunderhoof raised his voice, turning to face Fracture.
"That doesn't change the fact that you were here way before Underbite and I arrived."
Thunderhoof snorted and rolled his optics, but he did face Bumblebee, unusually mellow.
"Sandstorm and Ramulus are with Steeljaw. Since Moonracer couldn't be here, I'm assuming the other short medic is with 'em. I's don't need to tell ya that Octane is on guard duty. Shockwave and Starscream are somewhere, and Phantomjaw…"
The Cervicon takes a deep vent.
"He got a job and had to leave."
That surprised Bumblebee. Phantomjaw promised that he wouldn't leave his brother's side. Now he's off planet doing Primus knows what?
"And before yous ask for details, ya ain't gettin' any. He doesn't discuss jobs unless you're his employer."
"That makes sense, for his line of work," Bumblebee admitted, not at all happily. "Do you know when he'll be back? If he had to leave, then he must've thought it would be a quick job."
Thunderhoof tapped the ground, mulling over his insufferable comrade's schedule.
"He did say it shouldn't take too long. He'll probably be back in the next couple days or so."
Bumblebee tilted his helm.
"How do you know that?" He asked.
"Haven't you heard? Big bad mafia boss here fell for Steeljaw's brother!" Underbite mused, nudging Thunderhoof in the side.
"Of course an Autobot wouldn't know, Underbite," Fracture pointed out, patting the Chompazoid's flank. "They're too busy with the boring stuff to bother paying attention to an Ex-Con rumor mill."
Bumblebee wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he knew how Thunderhoof would. The Cervicon clenched his fists, shaking with rage. He was struggling to keep his temper under control.
"Rumor mill?" Knockout inquired, standing in the open doorway while washing his servos with a rag. "What rumors? Can I hear them? Please, I've been dying for worthwhile gossip forever, and with Cons comes primo info!"
"Knockout, how's Steeljaw? Did the operation go over well?" Bumblebee fretted.
"Whoa, calm down, Bee! Everything is perfectly fine! Octane can relax, Sandstorm can sleep, and Steeljaw and Ramulus are in full protective parent mode so I highly suggest that you don't try to see any of them at this time."
"Okay, fine, good!"
"Bee, relax. You're working yourself up too much."
As difficult as it was, Bumblebee followed doctor's orders and circulated his vents, eventually returning to a calm state of mind.
"Sorry about the freak-out," Bumblebee apologized.
"I understand you're worried, but everything turned out perfect," Knockout reassured, placing a servo on Bumblebee's shoulder. The yellow and black mech relaxed under the touch.
"What about the pup?" Fracture asked. The mechs looked up at him and he pointed to Airazor and Divebomb. "The mini's want to know."
Knockout smiled.
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His systems were taxed. Nearly the entirety of his frame hurt, and the wrap around his abdomen was extremely uncomfortable. He knew it was there to keep rust particles and other harmful substances from entering and making a mess of things. Doesn't mean he has to like it. For now, though, he can ignore it all. He has someone important to attend to.
"You did amazing, Steel," Ramulus praised from beside his mate in beast mode, rubbing their helms together.
"I always do, Ram," Steeljaw chuckled, looking fondly at their newborn through clouded optics.
Nothing about the sparkling is particularly unique just yet. For the first 24 hours post birth, the sparkling is nothing more than gray proto-matter in the general shape of what they will become and gradually develop more features: armor, colors, physical traits, etc. During this time, the sparkling is at its most vulnerable, so it is imperative that the creators never leave its side. They won't let anyone near, except for the medics who helped with the delivery, and even then, their presence is tolerated for short spans of time. With Sandstorm at his wits end, the job of hourly check-ups has been bestowed upon Knockout.
"I can't wait to see their true colors," Steeljaw rasped. He reached over and tiredly yet lovingly licked his sparkling.
"Get a whole lot of rest, Steel, you deserve it," Ramulus urged. "I promise, I won't let anything happen while I'm watching."
Steeljaw wanted to argue. He wanted to stay awake. He didn't want his sparkling out of his sight, but Ramulus was right. He's exhausted. He won't be of any use if he doesn't rest and recover his strength.
Steeljaw trusts Ramulus to protect them, and quickly slips into a deep recharge.
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In another part of the universe, something long believed dead and gone has come back with a vengeance.
However, it is still weak, and can not carry out its mission by its lonesome.
"Do we have a deal?"
It needs help, and if bending to unsavory folk is the way, then so be it.
"But of course!"