Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own Transformers. I just like hounding their giant robots.

Warnings: (chugs milky coffee and slams can on the desk) Does intimidation, hazing, poor communication, hinted real-life issues, and an inconsistent dramedy tone count as a warning?


"Whiskey Tango Turbofox-trot"

Cieve acknowledged Carnivac was a good alpha, but for once she wished he'd punish her normally. She'd been left to look after the young vehi mode. Who, in fact, had no intentions of being less than hostile, per his interpretation of the Decepticon code.

She lost Voltage. The one person 'Nia trusted her to protect.

She couldn't be gone.

"You got your aft handed to you by a sparkling." Barricade interrupted.

"Shut up, runt!" Cieve snarled, "You lost to a hybrid."

"Not for long…" He trailed. "Blackout said you should have a nemesis. I decided even if Vo is going pick him as a trine mate, I can still try to kill him. You could take his place, win-win."

Cieve eyed him, "The way you think scares me sometimes."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I'll warn you if you're my next choice."

"Freak. It won't work like that anyway. You can't force a trine. I was her co-guardian—but not anymore, I guess."

Barricade made a snoring noise. "I'm not your therapist, go talk to Snarl. Hey, Weirdwolf? Can I have that spine?"

He received a thrown plastic bag to the face.

"Ow. Hey Tic! Look what I got from the vulpine femme!"

Outside the med bay, the dark blue mech paused and waited for his friend-by-default.

Tic had no extra abilities besides a bad paint shed disorder and was far too willing to befriend the clearly isolated vehi youngling.

It made her miss Voltage more.

Snarl poked his helm around a curtain, "He still thinks that's what a fox Preda looks like?"

"He's young."

He perched at the edge of her slab. "Stop moping, she'll be fine. This is what 'Nia trained her for."

"I just wish it hadn't been on my watch…"

"If it helps, Steeljaw said a lot of energon had been spilled. Enough to make the forest floor glow. You did not go quietly."

"Thanks."

They both folded their audios at the air being displaced somewhere in the room. Skywarp popped into existence.

"Ha! You'll never believe what those bird-things turn into. Oh. Where's the runt?"

"That way."

The Seeker paused, noting she was covered in venom-greyed out paint splotches, "Yikes, Cieve, you look like—"

"Goodbye Skywarp," Snarl pressed.

The Seeker disappeared again with the faint smell of burnt feathers.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Prowl hadn't felt this silly in a long time.

He had his arms spread wide, making ridiculous sounds as he herded Terri toward the Ark's ramp at a quick walk. He nearly ran smack into a looming black shadow.

"No."

Prowl swore quietly and looked up to find Ironhide blocking the way.

"Emotional support pet?"

"We've got two canids, pick one."

He then opted for the pleading expression that worked so well for the rest of Spec Ops. "Please, Hide?"

Judging from the raised optic ridge, Ironhide was unmoved. "I caught you. Now leave it."

Prowl shooed Terri off reluctantly and slunk off to med bay, following the oxidation-colored stains dotting the floor already being devoured by a cleaning drone.

In the medbay, Voltage was laid out on the furthest slab on her chest, wrists secured to the sides, her faceplates slack in stasis.

To her credit Cypress was conscious, but she wasn't completely here either. Some redundant programing was urging her to escape her berth with uncharacteristic fury.

Ratchet was a klik from blowing a fuse. "For sparks sake, sit still!"

"Back in one piece and didn't lose my gun!"

"Wonderful, now lie down." Ratchet deadpanned.

"I'm totally fine!"

Ratchet produced his "I'll let you sit with that one" expression.

Cypress tried to stifle a frame-wide tremor. The centers of her optics were dilated and over-bright from the nitro burning off in her reserves. It was equivalent of coffee and adrenaline on an empty human tank. Ratchet's deep-set frown promised Ops would be getting commentary from him soon.

"You currently have one-fourth the energon needed for basic movement. Half of your energon lines are compromised and worsening by the nano."

"Ah. That sounds bad. But seriously, I feel better now! I could totally—"

The medic jabbed the back of her helm. Her frame went limp as a rag, optics winking out with it. No one told her vocalizer.

"I messed up again…" She muttered, "Carnivac knows. They all do. Bee saw."

Ratchet eyed her curiously but this time she'd gone.

The medic eased her down, supine, more venom staining the surrounding surface.

At least it was only venom this time.

"What happened, short version."

"Cieve's got anti-coagulant in her venom; she's bleeding out."

"Of course there's two." The medic got to work flushing out Cypress' lines. "Prowl, go check on the Seeker. Jazz, monitor whatever toxin you laced her with, I don't like those vitals. Whichever one of you is better at repairs, get to it."

Drift took one for the team, beginning to treat the electrical burns crisscrossing nearly every frame.

Voltage hadn't been as easy as they'd liked. She was as over modded as they came; shorter than what Prowl assumed most Seeker's were, but imposing nonetheless. Logically, Prowl knew she was still the same size. Her folding wings extended out wide, though making her seem to take up far more space.

He prodded at her destroyed wing junction, blown into a ragged circle where the joint should be. That had to hurt.

A slight flash was all the warning he got before Voltage seemed to suddenly online. The air crackled with an impending electrical burst…

And just as quickly, her frame gave a whine and drooped.

She slammed a balled fist onto the table. "Frag."

"Still want me to run the poison back, Ratch?" Jazz said sarcastically.

The medic rounded on his newest patient, "You, Voltage! Pull that machinery trick again and you'll be in stasis for your whole stay."

"Wouldn't dream of it, medic." She purred out.

"Or we cut our losses and drop her in the brig as is." Drift growled.

Confined as she was, the Decepticon showed zero signs of worry. "There's no brig, I can see the floorplan."

"Cuz we made our own." Jazz added, "It's a hole in the cargo hold. There's a big giga-rat in there and no wing space."

She snorted and looked around, frame already thrown back into exhaustion. "To what do I owe this detainment?"

"A bounty on Decepticons." RoadRage said shortly.

"That's all? How much?"

"You're incarcerated. Shut up." Drift snapped.

"Wait, aren't you Deadlock?"

"Was."

The Seeker had the nerve to look outraged. "That is rich. He's free and I'm the one locked up? He's been a Con before most of us were sparked; I just joined the other cycle!"

"You're the only one with D'Con emblems. Guilt by association." RoadRage said with a sage, scolding tone.

"Huh. I hope you both get lice and Goonch blew up something important in your ship. Enjoy driving to your next destination."

Prowl wrenched her hurt wing to silence her.

"Keep it up, your turn is coming, doorwinger."

She directed her glare to back to him with a quiet hiss, until her optics brightened in recognition.

~ Not one word. ~ Prowl hissed, slamming down all communication outside theirs.

~ You have some way of greeting your teammates, Prowl. ~

~ It's a necessity. No one else knows, outside Jazz and I. ~

She made a show of twisting one restraint, directing her greeting at the other visored mech. ~ Nice to meet you. ~

~ Ya know how stupid that was coming here? You're going to ruin our cover. ~ Jazz growled out.

Good, you don't seem to be handling anything correctly. None of the crew knows? I find it strange my circuit sister had such a violent reaction. ~

~ They don't. Kid doesn't know why she was made or where. Thanks for stirring slag up. ~ Jazz rumbled.

~ Have you at least properly explained the bond? ~

Prowl supplied, ~ We don't even have a good name for the scope of this. ~

~ …and I am considered the Decepticon. ~

~ We're asking you to help us for your sake. We'll do what we can to keep you here, you only have to keep your mouth shut. ~ Prowlstated.

~ You don't trust your Prime with this? ~

Neither spoke.

~ I feel sorry for you both. ~

Somehow a Decepticon's pity was far worse than any insult.

At the other berth Ratchet let out a steaming vent, "Bee, did you two try to swallow the whole marsh?"

"It was the other way around."

"Kid took in too much water. I can drain it off."

Voltage jerked in alarm, "Don't!"

"What is it?"

She sat up as best she could. Gravity was rapidly gaining on her. "There isn't an abundance of energon off-world, most Predas adapt to use organic matter. Venom bearers use water for dilution. There really isn't anyone here that's not from Cybertron?"

"No. Anything else I need to know?"

"I have Cieve's anti-venom and I treated her. No, I'm not giving you a sample."

The medic turned back to surgical preparations. "Fair enough, that's all?"

"Don't cut off my wings."

"They'll be there, just with a clamp."

Voltage's optics dimmed until they finally shut. Hopefully, really was stasis.

"Good," Jazz sighed. He worked quickly, disabling her comms and locators, "You gonna be okay in here with her for a nano?"

"We're fine, go make sure Sides doesn't crash us. Drift—" Ratchet paused, looking around, "Where did he—?"

"He does that." RoadRage supplied.

"Fine."

Prowl explored Voltage's hurt wing, deadening sensors and patching the lines he could. The joint was unsalvageable.

"You'll need a temp replacement," Ratchet tossed him a spare, servo still twisting inside Cypress' battered frame. "We can substitute it with a doorwing joint but it'll have to be replaced later."

The flash of a scalpel made his tank cramp. Bee flinched hard.

"What else happened out there?"

Bee slowed in scraping out glass from his plating, "Another wolf poked around in her throat. I couldn't get there in time. I think he fixed her."

Ratchet probed the area, checking and rechecking her lines. Instead of his usual speed, he probed as if he were uncertain. "Did he say anything?"

"Something about venom regulation. The whole thing was just..." he ended with an exasperated helm-shake.

RoadRage patted his shoulder, "We owe you two, you did the best you could."

"Nothing's seriously damaged…" the medic eyed Voltage warily. "Didn't think off-worlder Predas could adapt that fast for it to become generational."

Prowl repaired the Seeker as best he could, concluding with a tarp thrown over her back. It was compensation for then magnetizing her to the berth.

"I'm going to help with last checks. You're fine?"

"Great, I'll call if I need you," the medic grumbled, probably over the lack of energon left in his patient.

Bumblebee was coaching RoadRage on what he knew about securing the medbay pre-flight. He kept one doorwing attuned to the operation across the room.

The scout made brief optic contact before tapping his audio.

He was going to send his report over databurst.

Prowl strode down to the cargo hold. Energon was secure, crates were in place, all was ready. He picked a spot in the adjoining hall, rested his back against the nearest wall to embrace the floor's lift off rattle.

Jazz eventually joined him.

"That went well."

It was clear sarcasm, but he couldn't resist giving Jazz a taste of his own medicine for once. He could lighten the mood, couldn't he?

"We're down a member and you're acting strange."

"Yeah, Ratchet sai—I am not!"

"You are never quiet." Prowl loomed as well as he could over Jazz, they were too close in height. "You're not sick. Not acting. You've been twitchy since we've picked up the new 'formers." Prowl cast a disapproving glance down at him. "You're really going to transfer your grudge with Lockdown to RoadRage? Aren't you a little old for that?"

"He's got a crush, Prowler." Sunstreaker said flatly. Where he'd come from, Prowl didn't know, but he had a slag-eating grin that said he'd been there long enough.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching ya brother?" Jazz snapped.

"There's nothing to ram into for tics." Sunny squatted right on the edge of his personal space. Jazz bristled and folded in on himself.

"I don't believe it—you're shy."

"No."

"He is." Prowl chimed in.

Sunny pinched one of Jazz's cheeks, "Look at you, growing up."

Jazz tackled him.

Prowl settled back against the wall, visor offline. He didn't really get the whole attraction thing, never had. Sides insisted it was necessary, a clear warning sign in his opinion. Still, he was glad Jazz was happy—or mildly terrified. In all honesty, he should be. It didn't seem smart to "crush on" someone who's close relative you wanted to maim.

Speaking of maimed…

Bee shuffled up with his burst of information before he took up a spot next to him, idly watching the mock fight sliding across the floor of the rising ship.

"So Carnivac knows about Earth. I'm going to have to go to Prime with this."

"Yeah," Bee held his helm down. ~ You'd tell me if you knew what was going on, right? ~

Prowl replayed Carnivac's cryptic warning, the furry meddler. He found himself using the same tone he had when Bee was a sparkling. ~ As much as I'm able to. We aren't in a good position at all. Watch Cypress and Voltage for us, will you? ~

Bumblebee gave a resolute nod, before scrambling back up.

~ Going back already? ~

~ I made a promise to be there. I can keep two at once. ~

Prowl found himself smiling despite himself and went to go fish Jazz out of the mock fight before Ratchet caught them.

~o~o~o~o~o~

There had to be easier ways of forming a trine.

Voltage disengaged the magnets on the medical berth and pulled herself to a sitting position. Her spark protested at the extra output, still out-of-sorts after the night's attack.

The Ark was cozy in a claustrophobic, outdated ship sort of way. It had nothing on the Vengeance.

The Seeker let out a quiet hiss in the silence of medbay. Ratchet hadn't lied, her wing was splinted, the other clamped at the base to keep her from flying off.

She was captured. Not ideal, but she was closer to her goal.

The med bay doors opening sent her back to her tank, under the tarp.

Bumblebee crept in, all bio-lights at their lowest setting. It wasn't for the first time if her sensors were to be believed.

"You up?"

No answer.

He vented deeply and pulled up a stool beside the other, very drugged, scout. The hybrid gingerly bumped his helm against hers before settling to wait, wings half raised in a perpetual state of semi-awareness.

Ignoring his petty spat with Cade, the yellow scout put on a good play at carrying himself like an adult. Most younglings weren't rated for combat. Between both their severe battle damage, these two definitely weren't. They were so young, with all the lanky immaturity of youth. Even youngling Predas weren't put in the military on Eukaris.

"Nice of you to visit." Voltage said softly.

Bee didn't flinch, his optics cycled tighter. ~ You got what you wanted, now what? ~

Voltage shrugged, ~ I told you, I'm forming a trine. You're not a bad fighter. At least, you're more agreeable than the other two. ~

Bee's voice turned cold, ~ I'm still picking glass out of me. ~

~ What would you do in my case if someone were trying to abduct you? I cannot fly. Thank you for that. ~ Shearranged herself neatly, arms crossed beneath her chest. If you were composed and didn't rile, your opponent had no power over you. ~ Help me, help you. I don't know what's coming next from the Dread, never mind anything else. You two aren't going to last diving into many more fights like that. You'll need help that can keep up with your alts. ~

Cypress winced in her recharge and Bee repositioned his frame to appear more threatening. It wasn't working.

~ I only agreed to finding you because of her. What's in it for you? ~

Voltage had heard of the Autobot's penchant for sympathy. There wouldn't be any harm in testing it out; he needed to know.

~ I won't live a very full life on my own. Being a walking lighting strike has its drawbacks. ~

~ You'll die? ~

~ Worse. My frame will slowly break down from the overcharge. I guess the lab wanted some failsafe. Having a trine will dissipate the worst of it. ~

~ Does Cy…have the same? ~

~ More than likely, but I'm willing to bet traveling with you lot hasn't made it any better. ~

~ She recharges too much, blackouts other times . You can help us? All of us? ~

~ I wouldn't be here if not. ~

He relented, ~ I don't know how trines work. ~

~ Closer than what you've got going on now. Each one is different, though. You'll be caught up. ~

"Ok." He said out loud, "Temporarily."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

"You're still a 'Con."

"And you're very insecure." She reached out over bond, filling the space between with overwhelming staticky warmth, "Do I intimidate you, youngling?"

Bee flattened himself to the slab with a narrowed glare, blaster arm somewhere beneath the table primed for transformation. He wasn't unlike a felid. Maybe Praxians were just like that—or he was confused. She stowed it away, settling back to recharge. Her coding was just as messy.

~o~o~o~o~o~

"I believe you."

Drift jerked as if he'd been caught doing something he ought not, "Huh?"

"The experiment theory." Ratchet said with a non-committal grumble. It had been a hassle tracking the mech down to the cargo hold of all places and he wasn't in the mood for a long chat. Everyone that went out to catch that Seeker came back with some sort of harm and now the culprit was still in his bay.

"It's not a—"

"Never mind, I believe you have a point."

"What changed your mind?"

Ratchet thought back to the brief exchange in med bay between Bee and the Seeker. "Observations."

Drift shifted atop his crate perch, always keeping one servo on its top as he slid off painfully slow. Again, Ratchet wasn't in the mood to ask why.

"You have any specifics?"

"The Seeker's acting weird."

"And energon is blue."

"Do they normally take grounders into their trines?"

"Honestly? No idea. Ratchet, I ran with Predas. Seekers, not at all. Maybe they do? If they're in a pinch? Oh…" Drift paused. "You're actually going to allow this?"

"Not if it's going to endanger them."

"There goes our bounty…potentially." He sat, servos trailing over the hilt of one blade before grinning softly to himself. "I can help."

Drift hit the floor, servos paring his words with gestures. "Let's do a test in the form of a team building exercise. I know most of you don't care for me. Maybe I can put that to use. A trauma bond is hyperaware of danger. Worst case scenario: we kill time. Best case: you stop fretting over who you have on board."

"We'll take it up with Prime and I don't fret."

"Surrre you don't."

~o~o~o~o~o~

On waking up, Cypress had to work to keep her mouth closed and glossa in. Ratchet had given her the good drugs, otherwise known as pain patches and deadeners.

Not a good sign.. even worse was her HUD's injury summary.

A good half of her spines were gone, several denta were missing along with most of her servo claws, and she was locked in bipedal mode to heal. She'd been cut open and welded back together like a ragdoll. Mesh plastered half her frame, warning of itching and soreness to follow.

"I had better not catch you transforming."

"Ratch!" she cheered.

The medic's ridges furrowed. "You were half-drained when Jazz brought you back here."

"Sorry."

"Be glad she gave you the anti-venom, I don't think I would have been able to stem it in time." He gestured at Voltage, then pinched his digits a fiber optics width away from each other. "That close to stasis or worse. You're not armored like a frontliner, kid."

The servo dropped onto her helm and Cypress leaned into it.

"Did you at least get a hit in?"

"I knocked her into stasis." Her spark hitched, "Why don't I feel good about it?"

Ratchet gave a subtle nod, gesturing to the recharging Seeker, then held a digit to his mouth.

"I am not recharging, granmoun."

Voltage propped up onto her elbows, apparently ready to converse. "You feel that guilty over someone that wanted to kill you?"

"Killing is a big ask-"

"You don't think you can stop in time." Voltage ascertained with a helm cock. "Good you didn't, I've known her all my life. She's dear to me."

"Exactly how long have you been online…?" Ratchet hedged.

"Cy and I were born at the same time. I upgraded early."

"You're not mad about Cieve?" Cypress ventured.

"Supremely. At both of you wolves. I thought you were the scaredy-'former."

"I'm not cutting Cons slack, I cant get kicked off the ship."

"No one is kicking anyone off the Ark," Ratchet said firmly, "For better or worse. Not as if you will be running missions anytime soon."

Cypress made to stretch only to be assaulted with a numb ache across her back.

"Voltage, I hate your friend."

"Don't worry, she feels the same."

Ratchet looked between them, "I'm going to be over there; Voltage, do not try anything. Cypress, no leaving the berth."

Bee was passed out, helm nestled in his arms.

Cypress poked him for good measure.

"He's been there all cycle," Voltage said, "Determined little thing."

Cy hummed agreement, checking around before running a servo over his helm. He was starting to get the buds where she assumed horns might go.

Why she'd hadn't considered he could fight… It wasn't unattractive. She traced beneath one of his optics.

"You two really care for each other…"

"Well, yeah. If we don't, who will? Outsiders have to look out for each other. Being cute doesn't hurt either."

Voltage leaned into the gap separating them, "No one's here that'll mind, stop pretending you're not happy to see me, pet."

Cypress lifted her helm, fighting a weak smile. "I still don't know why."

"Because we're two halves of a set, circuit sisters." Voltage beamed. "You pass out a lot?"

"It's gotten worse since I got here."

"We balance each other out in spark. That was the one feature the Dread didn't change."

Somehow, in the medbay light, she wasn't as scary.

"Where are you from? What's it like?"

"Eukaris," she said as if the name itself would break if said too loud. "And its like everywhere, I suppose. It is an organic planet. There are jungles, plains, scary weather, beautiful moonrises. We're the type of 'former that lives in temperate areas, not snow and ice."

"Earth, but you already knew. I lived in a few places. The longest place was dry and cold most seasons. Snow isn't bad at all. It's fun. It feels like you could walk forever. People are annoying, but I wouldn't change it."

"Now tell me this, if I ever see my pack again, I have a bet to settle. Is the interface really that good for you to have stayed here?"

Cypress felt her faceplate heat and cringed despite knowing it wouldn't show in this form. "I wouldn't know."

"You're really a medic's apprentice? Thought that was just window dressing."

"No! They're really nice. I think they just need a grunt and I need a place to live."

"Civilized Autobots. Now I've seen it all."

"What happened to make you guys hate vehicle modes so much?"

"You trust me to explain?"

"No, but I need an explanation from more than one side. I already asked Ratch, and since your pack wants to maul me—"

"Maybe later." She cut optics to Ratchet, who gave her a flat stare.

"What? I'm not stopping you."

Voltage's only good wing pinned backward.

"If I stop you, Nancy Drew over here is just going to ask someone else, someone worse."

"You even like old people's stuff…" Cypress muttered.

"Don't be evasive. Kid, Voltage, I've run a comparison. You aren't lying. What I want to know is your real reason for all of this."

The Seeker let out another frustrated vent, "I told Bumblebee, we have to work with each other, that's how we're designed. They kept me trineless for ages. Being the extra wing in a trine gets old."

"I'll humor you, but you're going to need a more believable story than that."

"I came to tempt your children away then, because I'm such a vile creature. What else is there, that was the truth! For such Decepticon like 'formers you're very avoidant of them."

Ratchet bristled, "That emblem doesn't hold too many good memories if you're from Cybertron."

Voltage wisely let it be for now. "They never talk about kind Autobots back home."

Ratchet dipped his helm, "Same."

"You all are strange. Thank you for caring for my sister."

"I can totally take care of myself." Cypress unintentionally slurred.

"So you are confined to one mode for fun? You're fortunate Commander Starscream is petty. He could have crushed your helm in."

"How come we can't breathe fire or something cool?"

"You're thinking of saurians."

"There's more dinosaurs?!"

"And what you may describe as dragons." Ratchet put in.

It was the meds that made her let out a squeal.

Bumblebee finally stirred.

"Why didn't you tell me you all had dragons?"

His faceplate did its usually confused squish, "Drag—you got your slag rocked and you're concerned about saurians?"

"I'll be bitter when I'm off the patches." Already, she could feel the drugs lulling her back to rest. "I gotta get pictures. Bud is going to freak."

Bee cut off a rebuttal as Voltage turned toward him. His wings rose to their highest arc.

"Hey, wait, don't fight here—"

"I won't," Bee spat, "Are we going to have problems?"

"You have my motivations, I don't plan on complicating matters anymore than they have to be."

Bumblebee propped his arms up on the berth, attention on Voltage.

She returned the gaze, "I didn't expect you to be resistant to shock as well."

"He's a grounded individual." Cypress joked.

He frowned, "Was that a science pun? Ratch, I think the dosage is too high."

"Its correct. Your frame absorbs toxins, took three tries to get it right. How do you feel?"

It took a klik for Cypress to think through the processor fog, "Like death warmed over, but not in pain."

"I found water in a separate system in your frame. Care to tell me about that?"

"It tastes better than blood?"

"That's normal," Voltage shrugged, "There's not an abundance of Cybertronian fuel sources. We make do."

Good, she'd been questioning if living like a human had messed up her guts.

Cypress winced as everyone's voices started running together. The throbbing haze of the meds returned dragging her back under.

The next time she roused, she was sitting in the training area of the cargo bay.

"Hey, Cy."

She adjusted her optics to see Jazz sitting not too far away.

Every sign screamed 'it's a set up', but between the patches, her injuries, and the subtle nudges over bond to stay quiet, she felt calm. Too calm.

Jazz studied her rifle, somehow now magically in his possession.

"You don't like using your firearm, huh?"

There wasn't any point in making an excuse. "Its easier to go hand to hand."

"You'll need to get more comfortable with this. Most of your injuries could have been avoided."

Jazz scooted forward, mirroring her position before he clasped servos with her, right then left. He pulled her closer until their knees touched.

Weird, but the floor looked like it was crawling.

"How bad did I screw up?"

"For an operative, terrible. For a newbie? Not that bad, a B-."

"What's with all this then?"

"I want you to really see what we're up against." He sighed tiredly. "Today ahm gonna break you."

"What does that—" her voice cut as his digits magnetized to her wrists, twisting to ensure she kept still. Snaking cables plugged home into both arms.

Now she panicked. "Jazz?"

"Shh." Calm that wasn't her own flooded her lines, knocking back the instinctive urge to fight. She shifted nervously until that same calm reasserted itself.

He pressed his helm to hers briefly. "Every Ops agent has to go through this at one time or another. I'll stop if you need me to. I don't want you killed because you don't know any better about war.

No matter what position you choose you're going to see things. Horrible things."

And said horrible things began flashing before her optics.

"Before this is over you may do terrible things. But you need to distance yourself from that part. Open it at your discretion."

And he left her to wandering through thousands of his cataloged accounts of combat scenarios and war crimes.

If there'd been a shred of her old self left, this quietly smothered it to death.

It was reliving everyone's first taste of blood and worse.

Jazz didn't stop her from wrenching away mentally.

"You did this?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"My caste and that's the way it is, the way it has to be sometimes."

She vaguely sensed him probing for a record of the night's mission, to which she handed over. It was better than feeling someone flick through her memories like the contents of a file cabinet.

He disconnected gradually, patching over the open fissures he'd left in her processors.

It left her a drained and swaying husk. How was this worse than letting Prowl sort through her processors?

"Thanks, Cy."

Her frame was livid, swinging somewhere between wanting to raise spines or retch. She didn't have enough energy for either.

And now she was too rattled to recharge.

"Yeah, syncing too much will do that." He patted her on the helm, "It gets better, I promise. Come on, Rec room."

It was becoming a tradition. Major frame upset equaled rec room, med bay, or observatory. The onset haziness of brain fog felt like a blessing, the memories were already seeming more like nightmares.

"Hey, you didn't slip me anything, did you?"

"Why does everyone always ask me that…" He shook his helm, "No. Ratch is still mad about the nitro. Surprised you're still mobile."

Jazz guided her out in the same way he'd steered her to the rendezvous point, a little faster as they heard Ratchet moving around.

He pushed her to the couch and left her with a tarp tossed over her helm like a canary.

"No moving."

Across the room, Sideswipe was fending off Drift from a set up tucked away in the corner that resembled a roiling pot.

"Get that slag away from my soup."

"It needs spice."

"No, it doesn't. Let it condense. It's not that type of soup! Look just taste it."

"Weak Northern scrap—"

Sideswipe whacked him, hard enough to dent, over the olfactory ridge with his stirring utensil-that-wasn't-a-spoon.

Drift had a blade angled at his throat at the same time Sides drew one of his wristblades aiming it at his spark.

A strut deep sigh rumbled through the couch, "Is it that serious?"

Somehow, she'd missed Optimus sitting right next to her. It seemed like half her sensors were down. Maybe she should have risked going back to medbay.

Drift never took optics off of the red frontliner, swiping his servo across his face and raked his glossa across the palm of it.

"More mercury?"

Sideswipe nodded with a stilted bob, "Yeah."

Cypress sank into her tarp to sulk.

She let the sounds of conversation wash over her. Every word was a snatch of something else, some other language, something familiar, but not. It didn't make her head throb anymore. It turned into a lullaby of patched together dialects.

She'd never been around any other group of 'formers long term, but Cypress assumed they were the exception to the rule.

Cy-Stan was in a three layered limbo of being sharp and efficient, droning like a whale's call, and having the ethereal screech of EDM. Sides and Drift were alternating between every extreme.

"See? It's better."

"I didn't know you cooked."

Sides shrugged, cockiness returning, "Jack of all trades."

"An he's mastered maybe three?" Jazz sniped playfully.

There was something on the TV—rather the giant holoscreen. Apparently, there were Cybertronian soap operas. She had no idea what dialect this was but it hadn't stopped her from watching before.

Behind them, Jazz turned on the subtitles.

RoadRage let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you."

To which he shrugged and ignored her. Weird, but Cypress had no time to reflect before the bounty hunter femme's attention slid to her awkwardly before jerking back to the screen.

Uggh.

"Soups done!" Sides bellowed. As a courtesy, he swiveled around the room giving everyone a cube of warm, condensed energon. One look at the cooking equipment boasted a different pot that smelled suspiciously like high-grade.

This one, though, was nearly yellow, smelling of a chemical bath. For once she was glad her frame urged her to drink. It smelled like it would strip paint—but it had the consistency of condensed milk.

Cypress pulled away as if it had burned her on the first sip, then began draining the entire cube like a starving 'former. It didn't taste like hot chocolate, it was better—richer, fruitier. She sank her remaining fangs into the edge of her cube and closed her optics to savor it.

"I take it you liked it?"

"You're my new favorite person."

RoadRage groaned, "You could end a war with this."

She could practically hear the smile spreading over Sides' faceplates.

"A little trick I learned, rebuilds your systems faster than med grade. Tastes better too, I call it suet."

The name conjured up images of fat covered bird seed being eaten by thieving bears and an overweight squirrel for some reason.

Drift still threw his so-called spice in his. He seemed to have a lot a strange substances.

Eventually, her systems quieted.

Gidget hopped onto the couch nestling into Optimus' lap.

Cypress had two nanos before Gasket made a lunge for her cube. She held it high over her helm just out of reach of the steeljaw.

"You don't have opposable thumbs, jerk. No people food for you."

The steeljaw snarled.

"Your carrier."

While the last of the cube was working its way through her mangled fangs, she felt optics on her again.

RoadRage.

That wasn't the weird part. It was the fearful tug on her spark. The one that wasn't Voltage or anyone else on board. Whatever calm had been there, lost it's chill and joined forces with her meds to make the floor tilt.

"I'm going out."

The other femme rose as well, "I'll come too. You're still not off med leave, right? I'll walk you back."

"No," Cypress hid a grimace, collected a few extra cubes, and started off without waiting.

The walk down the halls was uncomfortably silent. Silence that her brain fog hated.

"I'm not going to bite you RoadRage."

"No, its just. You're. I mean... Are you ok?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, we're fine, right?"

Cypress got the barest tug of concern and then curiosity from a fourth party. She sent the equivalent of a pat to the first intruder and watched a slight horror creep onto the femme's faceplates as she reached out to her fully.

"We're good."

Cypress picked through trace sensations and honed in on the fourth, barely there one.

~ Could you not make me crash, please? Just be quiet? ~

Someone tightly connected with Arcee considered her at arm's length like someone would a semi-tame stray cat.

~ Rough time? ~

~ Yeah. ~

~ You're the one who's been so noisy. ~

~ Guilty. ~

~ Interesting, now shut up. Some of us have work to do. ~

The jaggedness tagged him as "energon hands". Seeing as she'd never sensed this one, she'd assume it was Lockdown.

He nudged her away, ~ I'm gonna talk to RoadRage. ~

New bond voices weren't the strangest thing. The way 'Rager looked her up and down was.

Cypress replied with a shrug. "I don't know either."

She immediately blocked them both.

Voltage's tendrils met her at the med bay doors. "I had this terrible dream a vehi-mode dragged you off."

"That was Jazz," Bee said as he casually sifted through a toolbox.

"I know. Come over."

Cypress gave in to the light tug of thin cables all the way to the edge of the nearest berth. The tendrils didn't leave her arms, they kept probing, particularly around where Jazz had jacked in.

The Praxian looked briefly annoyed before looking her fully in the optics and groaning, "Debrief?"

The wolf Preda nodded. "I get the feeling I'm not getting five stars?"

"Getting your processors sifted is more like a punishment."

"No kidding," Cypress swiped at her olfactory to make sure it only felt like something important was seeping out, "You guys miss me?"

"Ratchet's suspicious you vanished," Bee said, readily accepting Sideswipe's brew from her other servo. "'M bored. Voltage refuses to recharge fully."

Cypress heard the clear drag of exhaustion in the Seeker's systems.

"Are you sick?"

Voltage's laugh was the equivalent of high-powered engine catching. "I don't make it a habit of sleeping in enemy territory."

The Seeker seemed to relax now that she had a pulse to focus on.

Cypress pulled out an extra cube, "Drink this, Sides made it. It might help."

Bumblebee's wings jerked, "Stop feeding the prisoner."

"Bee…"

"Seriously, if she gets enough power break out, its on you. The less energy the better."

Voltage looked like a sad, bedraggled raven fighting with the lid. Buuut she was also the same 'former that pulled a King Ghidorah and tried to fry them all.

"Volt—"

Bumblebee hissed and gave a jerky nod to the door a half-nano before it opened.

Ironhide took one look at the situation and frowned. "She's on half rations."

Voltage then downed the whole cube before anyone could stop her. "Too thin, but I'll take it."

"I'm coming in to take next watch," Hide said, coming further into the med bay.

Voltage's tendrils zipped back to her plating, burying deep into her plating.

'Hide eyed the Seeker, then Cypress. "Do not let her escape, no matter what she says."

"She wont. I won't." Cypress had the good sense not to hold optic contact with their resident weapons specialist.

Voltage glanced between them, "You should go, scout."

"What?"

"I'm tired of you two fawning around in here. One of you, scram." ~ He wont like you being close to me. Go on. ~

As she passed, Voltage covertly slipped a plastic wrapped bundle out of subspace and into Cypress' servos.

Despite they're friendly terms, she still passed on the warning to Jazz that the restraints weren't working at all.

With nowhere else to go, she slunk to the washracks. Washracks were the last door down from the rec room and it smelled exactly like she thought, the inside of a wet garage. It looked close enough to be a shower room. At least a few stalls had doors. Somehow, she'd figured it out the controls faster than most hotel ones.

:: Okay to shower? ::

Ratchet sent an affirmative. :: Avoid any high-powered sprays and go straight to quarters. ::

No more needed to be said. She ducked under the spray of alien hand sanitizer. Steam curled from the solvent washing off lingering smears of energon.

After a klik, chunks of the dark, multicolored fuel hidden in her frame sloughed off. Solvent wasn't water, but it was something. Eventually, Cypress relaxed, helm against the wall. Her joints felt better than they had before Cieve.

There were probably towels, but she shook off in favor of getting to her quarters faster. She swung the stall door open and was greeted with Sunstreaker looming not a foot away.

Cypress snapped her mouth shut as he stepped into the stall and shut the door behind him.

Oh slag. In the interest of not sending everyone into a panic over nothing, she tamped down the bond.

"You really took down that silver femme by yourself?"

"Yeah…"

A quiet snort. The drip of leaking solvent. Why wouldn't he leave?

One servo encased the side of her face while a digit forced her mouth open like a pet's.

"Lost a few fangs…pity. They'll grow back."

She started shivering.

The servo switched to prodding at the new welds ringing her throat. It turned into something almost soothing until cold optics refocused on hers.

"You'd better think long and hard about who your friends are. I don't have anything against Predas but I know I don't trust you, MTO."

He shouldn't have known that. Was he bluffing?

A whine was building in her throat.

"You're not going to say anything if you care about your Seeker. If you care about living, you won't double cross our team. I'll split you in half."

He drew a diagonal line with the sharpened tip of his digit from her shoulder to her hip, splitting her spark in two.

Then he sidled out of the stall as if nothing happened. And it hadn't, right? Maybe this could get boxed up like whatever hellish training improv Jazz—

"And keep your mouth shut."

Cypress backed against the furthest wall to shiver in peace. Finally, the washrack door shut.

Shivering turned to simmering fury, that then deflated as she remembered what she was up against: a psychopath.

There were people everywhere and no place to hide.

Except…

Cypress slunk into her room, fully cleared of wall debris now. She curled in on herself and pulled out the bundle.

~ A fish? ~

~ It'll make you stronger, regrow your spines faster. ~ Voltage paused, ~ You're going to need it. ~

The fish's flesh was scaly and metallic adjacent but no harder than her own plating. It glittered in the overhead lighting. Not many barbs, small tendrils, all would fold back. She followed her HUDs growing interest.

~ This is terrible. You can really eat this whole? ~

~ Stop stalling. ~

It wouldn't be the worst thing she'd eaten. Out of habit, she pinched her olfactory and copied the way Goonch swallowed. The scales were rough and slimy and her processors protested, but nothing happened. Her tanks finally stopped twisting.

Then the door slid shut.

RoadRage slunk to her side of the room, a freaked-out air following her. There was no telling if she'd seen or not.

That was it.

~ I've gotta go, roommate. ~ Cypress stood, "We have to sleep in here together. I need somewhere that's safe."

The femme turned around to face her. Cypress attempted not to crane her helm to make optic contact with their new guest.

"Could you try not to blow us up again?"

Rager's arms folded in defense. "How'd you run across Lockney?"

"You want to know so badly, I'll show you."

RoadRage suddenly looked mortified at being offered a cable. "I'll pass…"

Cypress watched Rager watch her, the latter's EM held close.

"No more games, kid, what are you really?"

Something about the situation was so funny. Thinking she was actually intimidating to anyone outside of being an aberration. Maybe it would finally be enough to become protection. Each word from her vocalizer became coated in a syrupy snarl the longer she spoke.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Kinda having a rough few orns, I'd appreciate it if I wasn't getting stared at like a sideshow attraction."

"I mean you are pretty freaky—"

Cypress slunk off to her berth without another word, diving helm first under the tarp.

"Okay bad choice of words. If you wanna hang out later, I'm meeting with the twins."

There was a moment when Cypress seriously considered opening up, laying everything bare and becoming best gal pals with RoadRage. It could be just like the tween sitcoms promised. A nano after that thought her tank twisted hard enough to rival getting her ribs broken.

"No."

"Fine, I'm here if you want to talk."

"That won't be necessary."

Feeling the hint of a hurt EM flinch from the other side of the room didn't pain her nearly as much.

~o~o~o~o~o~

The following cycle found RoadRage milling around with Drift, following Prime as he showed them around. The swordsmech still wasn't telling her what was in the box he was hiding. RoadRage fully intended to sneak a look inside.

Somehow she wound up with the twins as Hide led Drift off to go check on their prisoner.

Lockney wasn't much of a distraction. He'd been gone for so long, reestablished communication under such weird circumstances, and gone quiet just as fast.

"Don't look into those extra bonds too much, I'll explain when I see you."

Because forming a spontaneous bond with the roommate who hated you was normal in Lockney's book.

Gasket nuzzled her leg, tail thumping like a second spark beneath the table. She slipped a servo down to muss his ears. At least she didn't have to worry about getting verbally bitten in here.

"So, you two are like real twins? Is that a bad question?"

Sunny rolled his optics. "Yeah."

Sides swatted him, "He means yes and no to the second. You'd be surprised. Prowler and Jazz are like that. Pretty sure they'd collapse without each other."

"Jazz is kinda shy, isn't he?"

Both of them shared a slag-eating grin.

"Sure."

"Definitely."

There was the same air about them that Lockney and Tsui had, way back when. They had a secret and weren't giving it up anytime soon.

"You should try getting him to open up," Sideswipe beamed.

"Promise I wont get my head bitten off?"

The gold twin leaned in, "Trouble with the roomie?"

With no one else in the rec room, it slipped out. "Your friend is a glitch."

Sideswipe sucked his denta, "Not going great, then."

"I apologized for the wall, what more does she want?"

The red twin squirmed, "I dunno."

Sunny shook his helm, "He cares too much to talk trash. Ratch adopted the runt, just ignore her."

Sideswipe appeared downright uncomfortable but his twin moved on.

"You should come train with us."

Maybe it was all in her helm, but she saw a glimmer of orange by the door. On a second glance it was gone. More likely it had never been there, seeing as the whole ship was orange. Seeking a welcome distraction from whatever was wrong with this ship, she leaned back, relaxing.

"Count me in."

~o~o~o~o~o~

The shuffling around of her reluctant roommate finally shocked Cypress into waking. RoadRage was about to leave.

They made optic contact briefly.

"Going to spar."

"Okay."

After a few cycles of next to no rest, then too much, Cypress didn't feel like moving. Her systems were running clearer, brighter. Unfortunately, the pain patches had worn off, along with any adrenaline lingering in her system.

Cypress drug herself to med-bay.

"Morning."

Ratchet looked her up and down, "Its evening and you've been out of it for a cycle. Looking better though."

"I feel like I've been glued back together with asphalt."

"Leaking?"

"No."

"Good, that means you're healing. You start bleeding again, tell me."

"Drugs please?"

Ratchet slapped a patch at the base of her neck, "Reduced strength. Don't want your venom getting used to it, or worse."

She flopped onto the edge of Voltage's berth waiting for Ratchet to come back with the rest. The Seeker let out a whine, seemingly in the same state. A set of battle dulled talons immediately latched on to her servo.

"What happened to you the other cycle?"

Bumblebee crowed in, "It still feels like static in my helm."

It was either Lockdown's invasion, RoadRage's, or Sunstreaker's, neither of which she wanted to talk about.

"Nothing, just weird with so many 'formers here."

"Liar, liar, armors on fire," the yellow scout snorted, "This is why you're the not full Ops."

"I can lie!"

"Really?"

"You two are giving me a helmache."

A growl began to work its way up her throat, but trailed off to a grumble.

"And it is things like that! Cypress, stop. You're a wolf. Wolves growl. Are there wolves at your old home?"

"No." Because all the local ranchers scared them off. She had less apathy toward wolves than mecha, but never a strong feeling of kinship.

Cypress managed an answer, "Yeah, they're allegedly the bad guys, though. I ran across one once. They like ice cream."

"Forget cold extracts. Be a wolf. You're not a car." She was taking serious exception to being anything else.

"You're going to tell me what's bugging you."

"Yes," Voltage shifted, good wing settling back against her frame.

"Vehicle modes are the reason Predas left Cybertron. We were not useful enough despite always living alongside them and providing a link between the world beyond cities and the wilds. Vehis didn't heed the warning they were destroying Cybertron when Terrorcons appeared. We were hunted down like the beasts they thought we were. Most Predas left while they could, some stayed as they were. Some decided to assimilate with vehis…and we call those Predas pets."

"Oh…"

"Its not your fault. You can't help it."

"I know." Cypress hesitated. "Its true we're MTO's, then."

"I wouldn't lie to you. There's much easier ways to convert an Auto-symp."

"I'm the back up MTO, aren't I?" she blurted, "The text pad said there needs to be two, even if they get rid of the second 'former."

Voltage nodded, "My guardian kept certain files. Going by the blueprint concept, yes. You're no outlier."

"Is that why I got left behind?"

Voltage's optics darkened in a restrained frown.

"You were kept because Daihatsu has attachment issues. You know him as Rilo. You're made from his closest friend, Thresher. Thresher was murdered. Dai couldn't bear to let him go again, so he convinced Crankcase of a bogus experiment that apparently has ended badly. They never upgraded you to newbuild."

"What about you?"

"I was sent to Eukaris. Seems Dai hates his own reflection."

"I'm sorry, Rilo's an aft sometimes."

Voltage held a wan smile, "Thanks." She focused on Bumblebee. "I don't say this to be cruel. There are things that were in place long before us and I fear will still be long after we're gone. I don't hate you, Bee; I just believe being conscripted at sparking has done things to your helm."

Bumblebee raised an optic ridge, "Agree to disagree."

Turning back to Cypress she said, "Anyway, I know you've probably never encountered anything like this—"

Cypress' denta creaked with the pressure of a pained, nearly deranged grimace. "I only talk Earth up so no one goes back and nukes the whole thing. Like I said, people really suck sometimes, but no one deserves an alien eradication."

Bee picked up that thread, "Earth isn't fun for everyone, apparently."

"I've yet to hear of a place that is, but frag that we'll make our own happiness. That's enough for today. I'm sensing a hitch to this place."

"Stay away from the twins." They cut in, voices overlapping.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"They don't like Seekers…" Cypress started, "Sideswipe might be okay around you, Sunstreaker's going to murder you with someone watching."

"Joy. What do you get out of you're thing with…what is his designation? The not Praxian."

"You know my designation." Bumblebee hissed.

"Warm hugs. Someone to talk to who's not pretending to be a dog."

"That's all. You don't get out much, do you?"

"I roam plenty."

"With a group?"

Cypress' audios ducked, "You've obviously never worked on an animation deadline."

"I do not know of these things."

"Dark rooms, short time frame, high pressure, drawing the same shapes slightly different to simulate movement, all for little pay." Bee put in, ending with a stage whisper. "We're rehabilitating her."

"Shut up!"

"That sounds like legal torture. We're getting you outside."

"You're a prisoner, Voltage."

"You really think this ship can hold me?"

"No, but I also know I can ask you to please not?"

"Fine." Voltage stretched, stilted by her restraints, "But I do need to move."

"Are you crazy?"

Voltage freed her wrists, willingly joining the magnetic cuffs in front of herself.

"Not nearly as much as you all seem to be."

Bumblebee gave her a side optic, :: Jazz? Voltage is loose. ::

:: Threatening? ::

:: Not at the moment, she wants to walk. ::

:: Bring her to the rec room. ::

The Seeker cocked her helm. "Well?"

Her drawn-out trill seemed to pass over Bee's helm and scrape over each sensor like an invasive medical scan.

"You're with us."

Cypress took the lead with Bee flanking Voltage with the assumption she wouldn't shoot her circuit sister in the back.

She brushed through the threshold and waited for Voltage to make her way toward Jazz. The saboteur sat languidly, playing off his interest in the new arrival.

"Very cozy in here."

He gestured to the couch, "Better down here."

Voltage sat with the grace of a dancer at a respectable distance away to begin what would turn out to be a joor long staring contest.

Cypress picked at her regenerating claws, too skittish to do anything but watch them watch each other. Bee put up a good effort staring the prisoner down as well until Sideswipe flicked one too many balled-up foil wrappers at the back of his helm.

The scout spun around only to be snatched up and behind the couch.

"Sides!"

"Oh come on, she's not going anywhere." He dropped over the back, pulling Bee with him, firmly boxing Voltage into place. "Wolfy, you have any more of the big optic cartoons?"

"Yes."

"Gonna put 'em on screen?"

"Nope, I don't watch anime in public anymore."

"Trust me, Sides, don't do it." Bumblebee stared up at the ceiling, "There's one with the—"

"Bee, you said you wouldn't bring it up again."

"Even after the lizard-man did—?"

"Especially after that!"

Sides frowned, "Thanks a lot, now I wanna watch it." The frontliner dug around, finally retrieving a cartridge of some sort to plug into a projector on the end table.

The old scrawl of an early 2000's melodrama scrawled across the screen reading "As The Kitchen Sinks".

Cypress watched half-heartedly while sketching, hardly paying attention. Everyone else seemed to be engrossed.

The room jumped as Voltage let out an aggravated hiss. "You watch this dreck?"

A chorus of "shh" and "shut up, Con" greeted her from the 'formers on the couch and those coming in.

"Can I just be put into stasis again?"

Across the room, Sunstreaker made a hopeful noise.

"If you hate it that much, uh-un," Jazz said.

Prowl dropped into his reserved spot next to Jazz, "Are we watching the lizard-man again?"

"No!"

Voltage pinned her wing backward, "What did he even do?"

"It was fascinating. He—"

"If I hear one more word about cartoons, you're cleaning the brig, Prowl." Hide ordered.

Instead, the Praxian leaned over to Voltage to whisper with Sides crowding in to hear.

Cypress just managed to stop the Seeker from clocking her designated instructor in the face, while Sideswipe burst into cackles. She didn't know what had gotten into the older Praxian, normally he was a stiff.

Voltage was still fuming, "Of all the slag, what is wrong with you two?!"

"I ask myself that every cycle." Optimus said, his tone as dry as the sands they'd left behind.

"It wasn't that bad," Ratchet shrugged, "Seen worse in med school. Jazz?"

"I can't answer that on tha grounds it may incriminate me."

A sharp tang of electricity buzzed through the air before Voltage slumped, "I can't listen to this anymore. Cypress, what are you doing?"

She flipped the pad around revealing Goonch in a much more animated form as he charged through the swamp, "Sketching your saurian friend."

Voltage paused, resetting her optics oddly. "It's nice, life-like."

Sunstreaker snorted, "That scrap isn't at all."

For the first time in a while, Cypress' mouth betrayed her. Maybe it was the lingering insult from her last art teacher who pushed for realism or the same mech that had trapped her in the shower was dissing an entire art style. Her art style.

She growled out, "Looks a thousand times better than yours. It's only so many ways you can copy and paste a sunset."

"What did you say, runt?"

Her vocalizer seized at the worst possible moment.

A beat of silence passed as her speaking function struggled to reset with an audible straining click. It was happening again.

"That's what I though—"

"That your art sucks and you need your audios checked." Voltage drawled, a hiss building in her tone. "Seems the fins are just for decoration."

~ Don't you dare look down, look him in the optic. ~ the Seeker bit.

~ You're crazy. ~

~ You're a Preda, aren't you? The weak perish and we are not weak. ~

Cypress renewed her interest in Goonch's sketch as she incorporated the shaking lines her servo made as errant water ripples.

On the brief nano she did look up, Sideswipe was staring straight ahead with no expression, RoadRage watched her from the corner of an optic, and Sunstreaker was preparing to come wipe the semi-smirk off of Voltage's face.

The screen's volume spiked dramatically, almost painfully.

"If we're done here." Prime rumbled.

Voltage settled back, still holding the gold twin's molten glare until Jazz shoved a pillow into her faceplate.

"Ya don't wanna do that." ~ You really don't and Cy, ya know better. ~

~ Rodger. ~

Cypress pretended not to hear Sunny's idling engines and sunk lower. Ever so slowly Bee scooted down, carefully draping an arm around her shoulder.

~ Voice is gone again? ~

~ Yeahhhhh. ~

~ That sucks. ~

~Sunny still mad? ~

~ Oh yeah, you may want to consider looking into invisibility mods. ~

:: I can see you two. Cool it. :: Ratchet sent.

Bumblebee sulked lower to seek out her servo instead.

Ratchet then sent out privately, :: Something happened, didn't it? ::

She sent a glyph-less affirmative.

:: Going to tell me anytime soon? ::

Cypress kept quiet.

:: Don't make me fish it out of you. :: It wasn't heated, but it was coated in concern.

:: I'm fine. ::

The screen halted and switched suddenly to an action movie, again from Earth.

Drift pitched the remote to the furthest corner of the room before crowding in next to Sunny. "I had to sit through Thundercracker's soaps, never again."

"TC 'aint that bad," Ironhide started.

The swordsmech cast him a sardonic look. "He's too soft. If it wasn't for Screamer, he would have never made it."

"You always need a pushover. He's a good kisser at least." Voltage offered.

Cypress' vocalizer finally reset with a sharp click, "That's it! You've lost talking privileges!"

Voltage wiggled her optic ridges, but relented instead leaning back to rest her optics. ~ You remind me of him, a terminal follower. That's only a good thing if your cause is just. ~

~ What does that make you, then? ~

The Seeker ignored her, muttering something to herself, "So what are we watching this time?"

"Something about giant machines fighting monsters, Pacific Rim. Mecha win."

"No good, the others win where I'm from."

Bee groaned.

She looked up, "Not a fan of Chela?"

"Not a monster fan. Omega Supreme, he's almost Titan-sized."

"Chela is a Titan, an avian. And he's no monster either!"

They both turned to Cypress.

"What? We don't have real giants like that!"

"Next best thing, then."

"Hodag, hoax cryptid. Legend says he's the vengeance for abused animals."

She held up a picture of a stout, green reptilian thing that was reminiscent of the creature she always wound up drawing.

"That's not a real thing, though, and its only scary to humans."

"Fine. Whatever Drift is, then. Hate to see him in a dark alley."

That got the mech to turn towards her. For some reason her processor registered him as a rabid fox with no further explanation.

"Not that you're ugly—"

"I'm flattered, but there's far more interesting Cybertronians than me. Remind me to tell you younglings about Terrorcons."

Prowl and Jazz made derisive noises.

"Not again."

"They're extinct."

Voltage seemed uncomfortable, "We try not to talk about them. They're a symptom of a sick planet."

"Most people do, but it comes up anyway. They're drawn to oddities." Somehow, Drift managed to lock optics with each member of Spec Ops. "They thrive on them."

Cypress pressed back into the couch. ~ Never mind, I'm sticking with Hodag. ~

~ Good choice. ~ Prowl sent.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Drift bit back a yelp as a moderately sized wrench parked itself in the center of his helm.

:: That's for ruining my stories. ::

:: Not for frightening your brood? ::

:: Careful mech, you might not live to hear why. :: Hide joked.

Drift attempted to force out the new dent in the center of his helm.

:: Lay off the superstition. ::

:: As old as you are, you've never seen evidence of a Terror? ::

The look on the medic's faceplate said he was clearly trying not to think about it. Drift let it alone. If rumors were to be believed, there was an old Terror still alive in the Autobot ranks and the final one associated with Prowl and Jazz's pack.

:: Anyway, I've got an idea. :: He offered again, this time pointed at Prime and Hide. :: You remember how to play Ambush? ::


Feeling chatty.

The lizard-man show's name is "Tsukuriage rareta shō". It's completely made-up because I don't want to down anyone's favorite anime and the internet has scarred me for life. "As the Kitchen Sinks" is a parody show from the TF franchise. "Pacific Rim" is amazing.

I don't have a strong opinion on Bee loosing his voice. It's an interesting plot point, just overused. The original version of TCD did have that happen (albeit in a pretty melodramatic, cannon-like way) but that was back in the early 2010's when the trope just started. I figured let's transfer a fear induced version of it to the anxious OC and see how it plays out.

And no, I don't hate Sunstreaker. (That award goes to Overlord and Sentinel Prime) The Lambo twins were some of the first G1 characters that pulled me back into this quagmire of a franchise. Sunny's just such a juicy source for conflict.

This story doesn't have a larger message; endurance and family if you squint. Really, its just an internet rando practicing writing, drawing from life experience, and finding a socially acceptable way to "play" with toys.

This year's been rough. Not as bad as 2020, but in some ways so much worse. I don't think I've ever been so disillusioned with interpersonal relationships in my life. Becoming an isolated, crazy cat lady doesn't look so bad anymore.

Writing helps a lot. I'm even working on an original novel. Looking forward to more big life changes and completely wrecking the next person that dares try to lay hands on me. For now, though, everything's okay. Let's hope it stays that way for a bit.