Mirage could feel the curious optics on him, and he shifted uneasily as he stared at the target. Tension sang through him, and he tried to focus, but his fingers were trembling slightly. He just needed a click to calm down…

"Come on, Raj! Fire already!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, impatient for his turn.

Mirage, flustered, released the line, and the arrow sunk in just off the target. He stiffened then blew out an intake and knew his optics were pink. He'd missed the target. He'd never missed the target before. And there were half a dozen mechs watching, including Optimus Prime.

"Raj?" Sunstreaker asked slowly.

"I'm done for today," Mirage muttered. He pinged the retrieval, and his arrow zinged back toward him. He caught it and tucked it away without looking then compacted his bow and stored it. He turned away from the mechs, embarrassed by his own shyness, and slunk away. He went back to the younglings' house and went upstairs to his and Silverstorm's room. When he entered, he saw Silverstorm sitting at the desk, staring balefully out over the street.

"Prime?"

Silverstorm shook himself and looked over. "Oh. Hey, Raj."

"What are you doing?" Mirage asked, coming in and sitting on his berth.

"Ah, reports."

"You've been doing that for over a week!"

"I know," Silverstorm said blandly. "Magnus was way behind on the reports even before I relieved him of duty. So it's my responsibility to catch up." He sighed in frustration. "Ah, the joys of leadership."

"You sound bitter," Mirage said. "What's going on?"

Silverstorm shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does. Talk to me."

After a moment's hesitation, Silverstorm stood up. He looked ready to speak then sighed and turned away. "It doesn't matter," Silverstorm said. Then he changed the subject. "What's got you down?"

"What?" Mirage shuttered his optics.

"I saw you practicing, if you can call one shot practicing. You missed. And you never miss. So what's wrong?"

Mirage looked down and huffed. "I didn't understand why you cared so much about Optimus's approval before I met him."

Silverstorm's wings hitched in surprise. Then he relaxed. "He's just like that."

"You're not," Mirage muttered.

The Prime wilted and sat down on the end of his berth, staring out the window. "Yeah. I know," he said quietly.

"That's not a bad thing," Mirage said. He stood up and went to trace a soothing pattern on Silverstorm's wings. "You're so much more approachable than he is. He's… intimidating."

Silverstorm relaxed and smiled up at him. "Yeah. And you just want to make him proud."

Mirage nodded then made a face. "And when you try, you miss the target entirely."

Silverstorm laughed. "That's been my experience."

There was a soft beeping, and Silverstorm tapped his comm. "What's going on?"

"Decepticons approaching the shield," Skydive said, his deep voice calm. "No signals indicating a gestalt. Instructions?"

"We need to drive them back," Silverstorm said decisively. "Gather the younglings and we'll head out."

"Should I tell Optimus?" Skydive asked.

Silverstorm faltered for a moment. Should he? Optimus would want to know, but then again, he already thought Silverstorm couldn't handle himself. Just look at how he'd taken over when Ratchet refused to apologize. So Silverstorm made a snap decision.

"You Aerialbots monitor the situation. If I give the signal, tell him."

"Yes, sir."

Silverstorm stood up. "Let's go prove that you can shoot, eh?"

Mirage smiled and hopped to his feet. "Yes, sir!"

The younglings were gathered at the south end of the shield, and Silverstorm was startled to see Ironhide chatting with Sideswipe.

"I've never heard anything like it," Ironhide said sincerely. "You've just got to show it to Blaster. He's wanted new music for ages." He saw Silverstorm and waved. "Hey, Prime," he said. "What's this for? Going somewhere?"

Reluctance appeared in Silverstorm's optics and Ironhide paused. He squinted at Silverstorm.

"Obviously," Silverstorm ground out.

"Making trouble?" Ironhide asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I'm going with you then."

"I figured," Silverstorm said, knowing Ironhide would kill him when he found out he wasn't telling Optimus about incoming Decepticons. He just wouldn't understand that Silverstorm was tired of missing the target. All he wanted was to make Optimus proud.

Silverstorm glitched the barrier and they hopped through. Ironhide took several steps away before relaxing. "I still hate that thing," he grumbled.

Mirage chuckled then popped out of sight as Ironhide looked at him. Ironhide smiled.

"Invisibility generator. Rare gift," Ironhide said.

"My protector gave it to me as a reward for winning a mental challenge competition," Mirage murmured.

"Quite the reward, but you were obviously a noble," Ironhide said. "I always envied golden optics. They could open doors sometimes."

Mirage appeared again and smiled shyly. "Thank you."

"Transform and roll out," Silverstorm said without thinking, and Ironhide sniggered.

"Yes, Prime," he said, merriment in his optics.

Silverstorm's optics turned pink. "Aw, go defrag yourself."

The flier launched himself into the air and led the team toward the Decepticons. He pinged Skydive.

"Location?"

"Sending coordinates now," Skydive said.

"Thanks. See you later."

As they closed in on the location, Silverstorm experienced the first negative consequence of being a flier with a bunch of groundpounders. There was a shot, and Silverstorm's wings sensed the air shifting. Without thinking, he bolted upward and looked down to see a small team of Decepticons aiming at him.

"Oh frag," he groaned. Then he decided that he was seen already, so he might as well distract them. He shot forward and the Decepticons trailed him, giving his team a minute to get closer. Mirage must have turned invisible because an arrow zinged out and struck one of the Decepticons. A burst of electricity erupted from the strike, and three Decepticons went down.

Silverstorm spun around and supplemented the attack with a rush of energy, sending them back. Then a loud crack sounded out, and pain became Silverstorm's reality. His wing hurt! It was the most intense pain he'd ever experienced, like the sharpest lightning zapping from one point on his wing. He looked over, trying to steady his flight and saw the problem. Air was going through his wing! He had been shot and it had made a hole!

"Get to the ground!" Ironhide roared over the comm link.

Silverstorm obeyed, his head spinning. He crashed and gasped, and Ironhide was there.

"What frequency do you use, fraggit!" Ironhide snapped.

Silverstorm shared the frequency then shuddered as Ironhide moved and the sensors inside his wing burned. Ironhide looked at him then frowned.

"You didn't tell Optimus, did you? That's why you looked guilty. He doesn't know?"

"No," Silverstorm said weakly.

"Contact him. Now." Then he bolted to the battlefield.

Silverstorm sighed and pressed his audial. Optimus picked up. "What's wrong?" was the first question he asked. He sounded on edge.

"Decepticon attack," Silverstorm said. Then he got straight to the point. "Look, I tried to handle it on my own, big problem, and I've been shot. Please hurry. And send the Aerialbots. Sending coordinates."

Optimus paused. "This conversation isn't over."

"I know."

They disconnected and Silverstorm found himself helpless and worried. He couldn't even move without his vision going white. This had been a mistake. He realized that during the other battles with the younglings, they'd had the element of surprise. Nobody had expected them to be there. But the Decepticons were aware of them now, and they had been prepared for a flier on the Autobot team. Silverstorm groaned low in his throat.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled.

There was a noise and Pipes scrambled over a rise and skidded down. Ironhide appeared above him. "Keep him stable."

"Hide! What's going on?" Silverstorm called.

"We're at a stalemate right now. Mirage and I are coordinating. Let him help you."

Pipes looked panicked as he stared at his wing. "I don't know what to do!"

There was a shriek of jets, and Silverstorm looked up to see Silverbolt and the Aerialbots. He pinged them.

"Help. Wing damage," he rasped. "Don't know what to do."

The Aerialbots immediately split into two groups. Fireflight and Skydive came down to help while Silverbolt, Air Raid, and Slingshot went to join the battle. Skydive whistled when he saw the damage.

"Oh, frag, Prime," he murmured. "Okay. We need to deaden the sensors, Pipes. He won't be able to function otherwise."

"Show me what to do," Pipes ordered.

Fireflight went over to Silverstorm's left side while Skydive and Pipes focused on the right. Silverstorm was trying to stay with them, but his vision was almost white from the pain. Fireflight became his only reality as he squeezed him and held his hand.

"It's okay, Prime. Just intake. I know it hurts. Give them a couple minutes. Just another few… Okay. This will feel funny. And… there."

The world came into focus as the pain was abruptly gone, replaced by numbness and an off-balance feeling. Silverstorm gasped hard, and he heard the fighting again. It had intensified, and he heard Optimus's booming voice shouting orders. Silverstorm looked around and saw Ratchet kneeling beside him, studying the damage. Pipes, his fingers dripping, was sealing the bleeds, and First Aid looked bewildered.

"What do we do?" First Aid asked helplessly.

"We'll have to rewire the circuitry and repair the panels," Pipes said decisively. "Right, Sky?"

"Correct," Skydive said. "You've rewired Slingshot's wing before, so this should be something well within your ability. I'll be there to help. But we cannot do it here. We'll have to get him back to the medbay."

"But my team," Silverstorm argued.

"They are under Optimus's command right now, and you aren't any help here anyway," Ratchet snapped. "You're going back. Can you get him back?"

"Certainly. Flight, help him stand. You'll feel lopsided, Prime. Don't worry about it."

Reluctantly, Silverstorm allowed the two fliers to help him up. They wrapped their arms around him and launched themselves into the air. The other Aerialbots immediately swung around and joined them. The flight back was uneventful, and Silverstorm was settled in the medbay with Ultra Magnus.

"Go help them, Bolt," Silverstorm ordered.

"Do you think you've got it?" Skydive asked Pipes.

"I'm good. Go on," Popes said, waving his hand. "Stay steady, Prime. I'll be right back. I have to get some tools."

Ultra Magnus sat up and raised his optical ridges as Silverstorm fell back on the berth, groaning.

"What happened?"

"I fragged up," Silverstorm choked. "They were expecting me this time, and I didn't think to shield, and I was shot, and I led them out there, and they knew about us so we couldn't surprise them anymore! Oh, if they die, it'll be my fault!"

Whines escaped him and he wept. Ultra Magnus stared at him, too weak from the surgery a few days before to even get up. He wouldn't make false promises. War was brutal after all, and the truth could be anything.

"It's hard being a leader, Prime," Ultra Magnus said. "Whatever happens, I'm with you."

Pipes came back and pulled out a needle with clear yellow fluid. "Okay. You're a flier and that's some bad damage, so I'm using the heavy stuff. Even with the sensors deadened, it'll hurt when I start rewiring."

Silverstorm nodded, trying to get ahold of himself. "Magnus, check in with Raj, okay?"

"Will do, Prime. Rest. We'll know what happened by the time you online."

Silverstorm tilted his head and Pipes injected the anesthetic into his tubing. He immediately grew fuzzy and lightheaded, and he swallowed. The lights began to fade in and out, and as he began to slip, he could hear Mirage talking. Was he back already?

"No casualties for us, but several of us are damaged," Mirage was saying.

"You fought well," Ironhide said, his voice kind. "Room for improvement, but everything is fine now. We'll work with you on technique and we'll try and get you more Cybertronian weapons."

"Are you angry, sir?" Mirage asked, and then Optimus spoke.

"Not at you. You did an incredible job. I can see why Silverstorm chose you as his second."

"Second?" Mirage asked, and he sounded pleased. "I suppose that is what I am. Thanks, Prime."

There was a sigh from Ironhide. "You're going to talk with him?"

"Obviously," Optimus grumbled. "What was the damage?"

"Straight through his right wing," Ironhide said.

"I just hope he's alright."

"I'll be okay," Silverstorm muttered as the world completely faded. "Just… get them… back… safe…"

And he knew no more.