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

Warnings: Picking up exactly where we left off because I said so (and its where I ran out of steam in the last chapter) Life has been kicking me in the giblets like I owe it money, so a shorter chapter than normal ✧*。ヾ(。﹏。)ノ゙✧*。I'm getting back into the flow of writing


Take This To My Grave Or Yours

Voltage maintained optic contact with the Cybertronian as she descended into the brig, glaring up at him when her peds hit the floor. To his credit, Jazz did the same.

His helm angled sideways, "All good? Need anything?"

She let her glare narrow down into slits.

"Right. See ya in a few."

The tile was replaced, followed by a clicking lock. Voltage's sensors hadn't lied; this was indeed a tiny, electrically dead space. It was barely big enough for Prime's weapons mech to turn around. She sent out a few pings and traced the limits of her new cell.

One stray ping bounced off an irregularity. What unfurled after a nudge with her tendrils was the only turborat Voltage had ever encountered that offended each one of her senses.

The thing hissed.

~ Jazz! Let me out right now! ~

Amusement met her, ~ So you met The Rat. ~

~ Cybertronian… ~ she stuffed down the strut-deep disgust. ~ You're going to let me out or else. ~

~ Sorry, ya breakin up. ~

~ On a bond line? ~

Voltage perched on the access ladder, pressing her back into the hatch to wait. She supposed there was one Autobot she wouldn't mind getting targeted in a raid.

~o~o~o~o~o~

RoadRage watched her new partner slink forward with the same apprehension she felt. "What happened to Sides?"

The Preda shrugged, "Last minute change, we're together."

Rager didn't bother hiding her disappointment. "Fine, let's get a hideout."

There was no argument when she took the lead creeping down the dimly lit halls. This, she could deal with. It felt like just another job ferreting out a bounty. All they needed was a good place to hide out. In the meantime, RoadRage kept her steps as light as possible and her senses tuned. This would be a piece of oilcake. Maybe she could even find a less creepy partner.

RoadRage turned to check on Cypress only to find empty air. "Crimeny, youngling…"

There was a quiet putter of a tiny motor further back behind her that only urged her to a jog.

"Kid, where'd you—"

She had to slide to a halt when a whole energon-blue servo emerged from a floor vent to grab her by the nearest ped. Yeah, she just lost a vorn off of her life.

The pointer digit crooked in a 'come-on motion', "Down here."

Rager side-eyed Cypress even as the long grate lifted to allow her underneath.

As soon as she was hidden, a cleaner drone equipped with a knife was shoved into her servos.

RoadRage turned back, ready to lay into the Predacon about proper teamwork.

"Set him free." she interrupted.

The bounty hunter did so, still holding her gaze. "You vanished."

Cypress' optics slit. ~ You were about to get caught. ~

~ That's beside the point, ~ RoadRage felt herself rant through the itching sensation their bond put off, ~ You need to communicate. Why are you so—~

Ever so slightly, the grate above them darkened as someone passed over it. Cypress waited for five sparkbeats and rose. ~ No one comes down here. ~

Her "down here" meaning a maze of tight, dark passageways and faint lighting.

RoadRager's frame locked up and she edged back.

The Preda's tail flicked, then she turned, ignoring her. ~ I'll go first. ~

They hid in two narrow alcoves directly across from each other.

She was just settling in when Cypress' frame went into a series of convulsions. The spasms weren't enough to worry about, just rapid, jerky partial transformations. Primacron the kid was just wrong. RoadRage didn't care to hide her thoughts on it either.

Cypress finally let out a sigh as if reliving tons of pressure and caught her staring.

The Preda sat up, "So, how are you settling in?"

Rager had an uncharacteristic moment of feeling as if she weren't in her own body. Her ship, her home for the past few vorns, was scorched. If it wasn't for Drift's old friends being in the area, they'd be Preda victims. Her suspicion that the Ark crew had been out here too long was confirmed. Now they were playing a convoluted game she really didn't care for. "I'd rather be back on my ship."

Expecting more silence, RoadRage was surprised when Cy's lime optics brightened.

"That's the first honest thing I've heard you say. Sorry about your ride."

"You didn't have anything to do with it."

"Wasn't saying I did," the optics tilted with her helm, "You've got a good profile."

The offhand compliment aside, RoadRage was confused. "Why are you talking so much now?"

"I'm trying to be nice...and I'm trying to observe you. You're the first vehicle-mode femme I've seen."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell people you do that."

"I'm not that dumb."

Rager was smiling up until feedback from Lockdown fuzzed the edges of her vision.

"Vision problems? I get them too."

"Not like this."

~ Blurs, flashes, dusty clouds? You're just like me. ~

~ What does it mean? ~

~ Hell if I know. ~ the Preda shrugged, ~ You're in perfect condition. You're normal, it shouldn't be happening to you. As far as I can figure, you just have to feel it out on your own. ~

~ Lockney shuts me out too. ~

Cypress shifted as if her plating was too tight, then went into some more of her alien mannerisms. ~ My processor and my frame aren't synced. It's like I'm piloting the wrong body. Not excusing rudeness, but if I act a little—off—again that might be why. ~

~ Oh. If it's any consolation I used to be a completely different person in alt. ~

~ Is this some Cybertronian joke? ~

~ No really, you'll see soon enough. I learned how to control the worst parts of my person with Drift. ~

Before the scout could voice concern a servo clapped over Rager's mouth.

Not one to go out quietly, she dragged the intruder down from above her hiding space, flipped him over one shoulder, and pinned him to the floor.

A very distraught yellow scout let out a muffled grunt. The kid was faster than expected. RoadRage got dragged down by legs restraining her in a helmlock. Every move she made snared her further and she could hear Bee fumbling for a weapon.

About the time she was going to curse the wolf for vanishing, there was a deep, wet growl close to her audio that had her insides writhing.

Her assailant went limp.

A limping, cyberwolf alt pulled Bee away and sat, sides heaving.

RoadRage got to her peds, "Right. You're on our team now."

Someone was coming towards them at a dead run. That was the one downside of an outright attack: the noise would attract others.

They dragged Bee down into the network and they vanished before the other set of peds could catch up. RoadRage finally looked at her squirming catch.

"You can let go now." Bee hissed up at her.

"Hush." Cypress whispered, fangs tightening on his other arm. To which, he did. Judging by the sagging of his frame he was enjoying it a little too much.

Cy carried on taunting, "Time to spill your secrets, Autobot."

"I'll never talk."

"We have ways."

She was getting a little too good at her Decepticon impression.

"Ok, bipedal and walking you two. We're going under."

~o~o~o~o~o~

Voltage was going to kill Jazz.

Waiting to be released started off well enough. Voltage took the time to map out the parts of the ship she'd seen and the weaknesses within. When Carnivac came back— Well, it would be better to have a layout to prevent casualties. She wasn't attached enough to worry too much. One wrong move and she risked orphaning the scouts for whichever time this was. Maybe she could get some time alone with the Prime before she left. So many questions… So many holes to be shot into her if she got it wrong.

That was about when the rat appeared next to her ped, trying to bite her. The Ark crew didn't keep pets, only this thing in the brig as some sort of unhinged punishment for prisoners.

The thing leaped as if it were intent on attacking her and she finally let loose a strike. Whatever was securing the brig struck back, sending the shot wide. Instead of exploring, the rat landed on her servo in an arc of rage and bit down hard.

She let all chaos reign in the tiny cell. For one brilliant moment, everything was clear. Everyone onboard was on her radar. The brig security crashed, and the room filled with the scent of choking smoke.

Back home, it was a neat party trick. Most metallic structures were decommissioned ships repurposed into buildings, eons old, and already being reclaimed by nature. Unless there was a lot of moisture or a better conductor, it didn't do much. Cybertronians used all metal.

The door ricocheted off the cargo-bay ceiling and lodged somewhere further off in a crate. Voltage smirked back at the now crispy lump of mechanimal. Home free.

~ You didn't. ~ Jazz started.

~ I told you I wanted out. ~ she swung her arms, relishing being without restraints. Even the wing clamp had blown off. ~ I am not going back without force. ~

Voltage turned a corner and immediately doubled back. Mechs were down there. Somehow five kliks later she was stuck at a dead end, standing on top of a vent with nowhere to go. Several nubby Autobot digits nearly swiping her ped jolted her back to reality.

Bumblebee gazed up at her with too-wide optics, "Down here." Something about his facial structure bugged her to the point of annoyance. Of course, Ops had the innocent-looking one. That wasn't the reason he bugged her, though. She couldn't quite put her talon on it.

The scout bristled with caution. "What'd I do this time?"

"Nothing you can help." She dropped into their midst, "Why am I not surprised you're all hiding..."

"Well yeah, Drift gets a little excited when he spars." RoadRage trailed off.

Cypress looked up from picking at her claws, "There are no freakishly tall mechs with guns down here. Just rats."

"Then there's no challenge."

"I thought you'd say that." Her sister continued to shift as if her plating was crawling.

The Seeker ignored it for now and eyed RoadRage, "Where to?"

The older femme hesitated a beat too long; she wasn't used to leading a group larger than two.

Voltage straightened to her full height, "We should go on the offensive." She canted her helm, "Is that ok?"

"Yes. Bee scout ahead. Cy, stay and help me with Voltage."

Not inexperienced enough to let her go free, then.

Bumblebee came back immediately, "Sunny and Sides up ahead."

RoadRage relaxed. "This'll be fun. Any good at melee, Decepticon?"

"I hold my own."

"Right, follow my lead." The bounty hunter lead them out of the vents and out into a dead end, hemming in the frontliners. She raised a digit to her derma before dropping into her armored alt without a squeak. Voltage followed; curious how vehi-modes version of hunting would play out.

RoadRage crept, slowly at first, before speeding towards the twins like a freighter.

Sideswipe was the first to wheel around, arm blades at the ready. Sunstreaker matched him, optics darting from the oncoming threat to any potential hidden ones. He lost focus after being blind-sighted by Bumblebee.

With a nod to Cypress, she scaled the wall like a bat while they were busy. She sprang, slamming Sides to the ground. The roles were quickly reversed. He landed a disorienting blow to one wing and held Bee off with the other. There was no other choice but to switch partners repeatedly. The twins fought like demons.

"OW! The fr—OW!" Sunstreaker roared.

Cypress went skidding across the floor with a mouthful of leg plating. She tossed it to the side as she stalked forward, frame bristling.

The frontliner ground to a halt gingerly examined his new wound, then lunged.

Voltage didn't notice much else; Sideswipe was doubling the effort to get back to his twin. When RoadRage joined them, her tank dropped.

A piercing line of the most awful noise ever made seemed to warp the very walls around her. Everyone else had the same reaction. The opposing team left incapacitated and reeling, Jazz and Prowl made short work of miming lethal hits.

The Ops head paused at a collapsed heap of frontliner and scout.

Cypress still had her jaws clamped around the Sunstreaker's wrist, the other looked as if it had been aimed at her head.

"On your peds, now."

Whatever sway Jazz had over them worked like a charm. Sunny had the decency to look mildly ashamed he'd been caught. Transformed and EM blank, Cypress wore the bright, painful knicks and gashes of a blade fight gone south. All the hallmarks of an attack out of malice.

"What's the excuse this time?'

They didn't answer.

The Ops mech hummed, "Someone knows. You're bothered by each other that badly, find another ship. That goes for both of you. I don't care who started it or why. I catch either of you fighting again, you'll have me to answer to."

The rumble that came from Sunstreaker made her talons itch. "You're not fooling anyone."

Cypress stared at some point far beyond wherever they were.

"Lost your voice again?"

She opened a comm. :: Make sure you take that spine out before you transform. ::

He then proceeded to pull from his collar plating a spine longer than his servo, something that would have caused massive internal damage.

Jazz gave the youngling a hard look. "Right, regroup let's move."

~o~o~o~o~o~

Ratchet hung back, giving Ironhide cover. They were attempting to track anyone else, and it was proving harder than they anticipated. He fully expected to get ambushed or sniped any klik.

:: What's wrong? ::

:: Nothing. ::

:: You say that then someone winds up on the business end of your wrench. ::

:: Everything's great. ::

Something clattered up ahead, followed by chittering. It sounded like Gidget but off. Ratchet latched onto the closet door and ripped it open to reveal—a lanky, organic bird.

"Terri?"

The bird chirped in response abandoning its nest of shredded warming blankets to hover next to him. Ratchet flipped through his list of suspects, landing on the only one that hadn't been busy or incapacitated. Drift.

:: I don't believe it. Why does he think the rule is "no pets"? It's a sanitation issue. It's not even Cybertronian! I knew having him here was a bad idea! ::

:: There it is. ::

:: Oh, shut it. ::

Terri attempted to climb him, and the medic scooped her up if only to make sure she didn't make any more noise.

:: My apologies. ::

:: You feeling ok, Ratch? ::

:: He's your friend—::

:: Never said that. He's Prime and Megatron's problem. I wanted to leave him where he was, but no. ::

:: Former comrade? ::

The mech grunted,:: In name only. I don't think I could explain it, you have to live in it. We were in the same circle, yes. Attached, no. If he were as vulnerable out on the battlefield as when we first met, I'd leave him. Don't feel bad, none of us liked him, but when Megatron has a favorite, what do you do? ::

:: Interesting viewpoint… ::

:: Limit the number of threats to your position in your crew, Deception thinking. But I am an Autobot. It changes into suspecting the reformed-Con and prepare for damage control. I made an oath and I'll keep it. ::

Drift appeared like a HUD glitch, just enough out of your line of sight to catch you off guard. The mech rushed in with none of the caution he'd had previously. No, he was coming with ill intent.

:: Especially now. :: Hide squared his frame and met him halfway with Ratchet close behind.

The idea was to force him back.

It didn't work. He was more fluid than a mech should be. Hide took a swing and Drift met it. That momentarily made Hide falter and then decked him.

He withdrew and hit back with a vengeance. The mech wasn't good without a weapon but he had determination. It wasn't enough. Every swing brought Drift closer to being pinned to a wall.

Out of nowhere, a monochromatic blur landed on Ratchet's shoulder. The next few seconds were a whirlwind of feathers, shrieking, and claws.

He floundered before realizing before snatching both creatures apart—only to come face-to-face with Optimus.

Done with the cycle's nonsense, Ratchet ground out a quiet 'cede'. 'Hide didn't seem to get tired of tormenting the slighter mech.

Drift finally had it with being pinned, "Cede!"

"Sure?"

He shoved Hide back with a growl.

"Never polished servo-to-servo then."

Deadlock's old indignant air surfaced, "Never needed it." He settled himself back into an at-ease stance, patiently waiting on Optimus.

That blind devotion made Ratchet pause. He'd seen it in Autobots, yes, but to see it up close from the opposing side only drew more parallels he didn't like.

No one noticed him draw away.

Optimus looked down the suspiciously emergency light-free corridor, "How do you want to flush them out?"

"It's Ops," Ironhide ground out, "It's going to be messy regardless."

"Want me to send the pets in?"

"Where's Gasket?"

Ratchet looked around, casting his medical sensors outward. The hound wasn't far, he was "crab-walking" backward out of the darkened hall. As Gasket got closer, he began to growl.

What followed him out was Voltage's strange beast-mode in a dead run. It reminded him of the bound of an Earth squirrel and it would have been hilarious if she weren't supposed to be locked up.

She picked up speed and, of course, picked him as a target. Terri got dropped between his peds. Ratchet waited, then brought his forearm up to block at the last minute.

Voltage used the opportunity to vault off it and land on the ceiling. She hung for a kilk, then dug claws into the metal leeching an unhealthy amount of electricity into her frame.

"Aw scrap…"

That was when the whole other half of the crew swept in.

Ordinarily, he'd hang back and assist…But this was the perfect opportunity for some belated revenge. He was fully prepared to list out a few weak points in everyone…

The other three took off like a well-oiled unit. Drift took on the twins. Ironhide went after Prowl and Jazz. Optimus went for Voltage unaware of RoadRage closing in behind him.

That left Ratchet with Cypress and Bumblebee. Bee was ready to try, the Preda dropped her audios and raised her forepaws.

"Really?"

"I'm tired of this."

"You too, then," Ratchet said flatly, "You're in your alt."

"It just happened."

Cypress slunk to hide behind Ratchet. He took note of the gold scrapes marking her hide and the way Sunstreaker favored his neck.

Jazz's vizor flickered in what Ratchet read as a squint.

It wasn't over as quickly as he thought. The younglings were getting better, still not better than Optimus' crew. The twins wouldn't give it up. They seemed to be having fun. Finally, Drift forced them back against the wall.

The malice in his optics vanished, replaced by burning excitement. "That was great! You're both improving! We should practice together more often."

Honestly, the second one was scarier.

~o~o~o~o~o~

They'd only been talking between rounds of Ambush. Prowl found he loved it. It helped he tended to win most rounds until they got to Prime. Some part of him wondered if they'd ever get to the point of

didn't remember what triggered the tingle up the back of his neck. One klik they'd been trading jabs in Jazz's quarters, the next, Jazz had forced a servo over his face.

Prowl raised an optic ridge.

"The side of your faceplate."

Prowl peeled his new muzzle away and felt where his mouth used to end. What he found was a downturned gash filled with his hidden fangs.

"Feel any different?"

"N-", he was hit with an awful wave of the need to transform. Something short of a carpet bomb went off in his processors. He wrestled it back down until he was doubled over and covered in condensation.

"That's not supposed to happen anymore."

"Anymore, Prowl? Has this happened before?"

"No? Not since Koa." he attempted to flex his hidden talons only to nearly trigger the whole cascade again.

"Prowl..."

"It's fine."

They both knew it was not.