CHAPTER 5: JETLAG
Weeks passed, and the Autobots had steadily transformed the former factory they'd been lent on Goose Island into a livable base. Hermit was buried in his projects, utilizing materials from the American government to build a workshop. His workspace was filled with half-built devices, welding sparks, and the occasional muttered expletive. Meanwhile, Impulse had been hard at work on what he deemed the most critical task: setting up a couch and TV rig. His first attempt had been disastrous, with the TV exploding in a flurry of sparks. Naturally, Hermit had been called in to fix the second attempt, which thankfully worked, much to Impulse's satisfaction.
Jeopardy had focused on creating a functional medical bay, a task that kept him occupied but also gave him a sense of purpose. It was a far cry from his chaotic past in Kalis, but it felt right.
All the while, Agent Simmons lingered. Assigned as their official government liaison, Simmons had been provided his own living quarters within the base, a human-sized suite complete with a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. The Autobots saw this as both a necessity and an attempt to bring him into the fold. Still, despite the accommodations, Simmons' interactions with the team were minimal, his ever-present watchful eye a constant reminder that they were being monitored.
Jeopardy, in particular, felt uneasy about Simmons' presence. Despite the man's efforts to seem cordial, there was an unshakable tension in the air. On the morning of their third week on Earth, Jeopardy woke up as usual, but found Simmons already at his door, a cup of coffee in hand.
"G'morning, Agent Simmons. To what do I owe the honor?" Jeopardy asked sarcastically, stretching his servos.
"Just checking in," Simmons replied nonchalantly, taking a sip from his cup. "You guys haven't left the island since you got here."
Jeopardy leaned against the doorframe. "Well, we've been busy getting settled. Lots to do around here."
Simmons nodded, glancing around the base. "Yes, you certainly have done a lot. By the way, the mayor called last night about the energy usage you guys are racking up."
Jeopardy narrowed his optics. "We need the energy to generate energon. Tell the mayor that unless he wants us to die of thirst, we'll continue to use it."
"Think maybe your tech guy could look into making some electricity of your own?" Simmons suggested, his tone casual but pointed. "Freeloading was not part of the deal."
Jeopardy rolled his optics. "The tech guy has a name."
Simmons smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. "Herbert, right?"
"HERMIT," Jeopardy corrected, sighing. "I'm sure he'd be more than happy to work on that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm heading out."
Simmons raised an eyebrow, suddenly more interested. "Where are you going?"
"On a drive," Jeopardy replied, his voice laced with just enough sarcasm to suggest he wasn't in the mood for further questions.
"I'll accompany you," Simmons offered, stepping forward.
Jeopardy quickly shot down the idea. "No, no. We need you here to bother Stormsurge," he said with a sarcastic smirk, before transforming into his SUV alt-mode and driving out of the base, the hum of his engine fading as he left the island behind.
Simmons watched him go, taking another sip of his coffee, his mind already spinning with thoughts. The Autobots were behaving for now, but he knew better than to assume things would stay that way. For Simmons, this was just the beginning of a much longer game.
Jeopardy's drive had brought him to the calming seclusion of the Busse Woods Forest Preserve, far from the tensions of Goose Island and the watchful eyes of Agent Simmons. He roamed the quiet paths, feeling the pressure of leadership fade with each step. In the northwest corner of the park, where the trees were denser and human activity sparse, something unexpected caught his optic: a glint of metal through the thick undergrowth.
Intrigued, Jeopardy moved cautiously between the trees until he found a shallow depression in the ground. At the center lay an old jet, undoubtedly Cybertronian, its weathered fuselage covered in grime and rust. The sight alone was odd enough, but what truly shocked him was the Decepticon insignia emblazoned on the wings. His circuits buzzed with a mixture of confusion and concern. How had a Decepticon gone unnoticed here for so long?
Jeopardy tapped gently on the cockpit's window. No response. Frowning, he nudged the jet lightly with his foot, still nothing. His mind raced with possibilities. Had it been abandoned? Was it a trap?
Kneeling down, he plugged a diagnostic tool into the intake system, and the readout made things clearer, if not simpler: the Decepticon was critically low on energon, near death.
It was obvious what needed to be done, and yet the decision wasn't easy. Helping a Decepticon went against everything ingrained in him from the War. But this one seemed defenseless, a shell of its former self. And he wasn't the kind to leave someone to die, even a former enemy.
Jeopardy hooked up a line from his own energon reserves, starting a slow transfusion. He could feel the pull on his systems but maintained a steady flow, watching closely for signs of life. After a few moments, the jet creaked, its rusted frame beginning to hum with energy. Colors started to return, purple and turquoise streaks illuminating the metal. The engines roared back to life, and the jet transformed in a flash, shifting into a sleek feminine Seeker.
Startled, the Seeker's optics widened as she caught sight of Jeopardy, a stranger standing over her. Without thinking, she bolted, only to slam into the trees behind her and tumble onto the ground.
Jeopardy rushed to her side. She recoiled, scrambling away from him, her optics filled with distrust and fear.
"It's alright. You're safe," he reassured her, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The Seeker hesitated, her breathing ragged, optics darting between him and the trees. But as the seconds passed and Jeopardy remained calm, her panic slowly ebbed. She seemed to recognize the sincerity in his voice. Cautiously, she reached out, and Jeopardy took her hand, gently helping her to her feet.
For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Her optics, wide and confused, locked onto his. Jeopardy saw something beyond fear in her gaze, something far more unsettling.
"Who are you?" he asked softly.
The Seeker blinked, clearly trying to process the question. She looked down at herself, then back at Jeopardy, her confusion deepening. After a long pause, her voice came out fragile, almost broken.
"I don't know."
Jeopardy's spark sank. A Decepticon without memory, stranded and left for dead. Whatever had happened to her, it wasn't just physical, it went deeper. He knew this wasn't going to be a simple encounter.
"Well, what do you remember?" he asked, hoping to coax out some clue.
The Seeker's expression was a mix of frustration and confusion. "I... I remember waking up and seeing you," she replied, as though she expected more memories to surface but couldn't pull them forward. Her optics flickered slightly, betraying the deeper fear underneath her confusion. "I... why can't I remember anything? Who are you?"
Jeopardy tried to keep his tone calm and reassuring. "My name is Jeopardy, I'm a medic." He gestured to the jet parts she still had, "You seem to have been here for a long time. Your systems might be damaged from prolonged disuse. Are you experiencing any physical pain? Any difficulty moving?"
The Seeker tested her range of motion, flexing her arms and rotating her joints. "Now that you mention it... yeah, I feel sore everywhere," she said, bending her arm with a wince.
"I have medical equipment at my base," Jeopardy offered. "If you come with me, I can run a full diagnostic and repair any damage."
The Seeker hesitated for a second but then nodded. "Ok."
As they walked through the thickening woods toward the city, Jeopardy offered another warning. "And just so you know, life on this planet is more fragile than us, so be careful where you step."
The Seeker's optics narrowed in confusion. "Fragile how?"
"They're a lot smaller than us, and they're not made of metal," Jeopardy explained, doing his best to sum up the complexity of humans in a few words. "They're... well, squishy. Just be mindful, alright?"
The Seeker nodded quietly as they emerged from the forest and stepped onto the edge of a busy street. She watched in wide-eyed fascination as cars zipped past them, engines humming and lights flashing, completely unlike anything she was used to. Her gaze flicked from one vehicle to another, as if trying to comprehend how these smaller machines fit into this alien world.
"Yeah, it's all very strange," Jeopardy acknowledged, noticing her bewilderment. "If it makes you feel better, this is all pretty new to me too."
"Are there more people like us?" she asked, her voice tinged with a strange mix of hope and fear.
Jeopardy offered a small, comforting smile. "Yeah, back at the base. Don't worry, they'll warm up to you."
As they continued walking, Jeopardy couldn't help but wonder what the others would think when they met her. A memory-wiped Decepticon, lost and confused, wasn't exactly something they had prepared for. But one thing was clear, this situation was already more complicated than he'd thought. Hopefully, they could piece together her story and figure out what role she would play in their new life on Earth.
Arriving back at the base on Goose Island, Jeopardy stopped outside the large entrance door reserved for the Autobots. He glanced back at the Seeker who stood behind him, her optics scanning the surroundings nervously.
"Stay out here until I say to come in," Jeopardy advised, his voice gentle but firm.
The Seeker looked confused. "Why would I have to do that?"
"They're a bit... skittish," Jeopardy explained, choosing his words carefully. "You might startle them."
"But I haven't done anything wrong," she protested, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.
"I agree with you," Jeopardy said, holding up his hands to calm her. "But they may not see it that way at first. Just stay here for now, and I'll come get you once they're ready."
The Seeker sighed, reluctantly nodding. "Okay."
Jeopardy gave her a small, reassuring smile before turning back toward the base. He opened the door and stepped inside, the soft hum of the base's machinery welcoming him home. He immediately spotted Agent Simmons sitting on the couch, watching TV with Impulse, who was fully engrossed in whatever show was playing.
"Hey, Jeopardy!" Impulse greeted, looking over briefly but quickly turning his attention back to the screen. "Simmons is showing me this really good show, How I Met Your Mother. It's hilarious!"
Simmons glanced over with a smirk. "How was your drive?" There was a slyness to his tone, as if he suspected Jeopardy had been up to something.
Jeopardy ignored the subtle dig. "As a matter of fact, I enjoyed it." He moved into the room, more serious now. "Hey, you guys mind turning that off? I need everyone's attention for a moment."
Simmons obliged, clicking the remote and silencing the TV, much to Impulse's dismay. "Ah, come on, it was getting good!" Impulse whined.
"Trust me, this is more important," Jeopardy said, his tone making it clear this wasn't up for debate.
He turned toward the hallway and called out, "Hey Storm, Hermit, come out to the atrium!"
From across the base, the sound of tools being set down could be heard, followed by the familiar creak of a door. Hermit Crab emerged from his workshop, wiping his hands on a cloth, while Stormsurge arrived from the opposite direction, curious.
"What's going on?" Stormsurge asked,
Jeopardy took a deep breath, glancing at the door before turning back to the others. "Alright, so I was walking through Busse Woods, and I found something none of us were expecting." He paused, letting the tension build before he continued. "Now, before I show you what it is, I want us all to remain calm, keep an open mind, and approach this with civility and respect."
Stormsurge immediately raised an eyebrow, now suspicious. "I already don't like where this is going."
"Couldn't agree more," Simmons added, crossing his arms, clearly anticipating something unusual.
Jeopardy opened the door, revealing the Seeker he'd found in Busse Woods. The reaction from the team was immediate and chaotic.
"SEEKER!" Hermit Crab yelled, instinctively recoiling in shock.
Stormsurge, who hadn't even waited to process what was happening, darted into the workshop to hide, her fear of the worst taking hold. Impulse, on the other hand, had the opposite reaction. His optics lit up with excitement as he whipped out his minigun, the barrels spinning up in a frenzy of metallic clicks.
"FINALLY, SOMETHING TO FIGHT!" he roared, priming himself for action.
The Seeker, utterly terrified by Impulse's aggressive stance, leaped away from the doorframe and his eyeline, pressing herself against the wall outside.
"NO NO NO, EVERYONE CALM THE FRAG DOWN!" Jeopardy shouted, stepping between the doorway and the rest of his team. His hands were raised, palms outward in a desperate attempt to keep the situation from escalating any further. "Guys, she's on our side."
Hermit, eyes narrowed with distrust, shook his head firmly. "Impossible, she's a Decepticon. They can't be on our side."
The Seeker, still trembling and confused, spoke up in a small, fragile voice. "Jeopardy, what's... a Decepticon?"
"Impulse, put the gun down. Now. She's not a threat," Jeopardy repeated, his tone serious, leaving no room for argument.
Impulse, looking genuinely conflicted, glanced at Hermit.
"Not a threat? It's bad enough you brought a Decepticon here, but a Seeker?! You might as well have pulled out a live grenade!" Hermit pressed, his voice edged with panic.
"What's a Seeker?" the Seeker asked again, clearly struggling to piece together the fragments of her missing memory.
Impulse blinked. "Wait, now I'm confused."
"NOW you're confused?" Stormsurge yelled from her hiding spot in the workshop, peeking out cautiously.
"She has amnesia," Jeopardy explained, his patience being tested by the situation. "She doesn't even remember her own name."
"And that's supposed to make us believe she can be trusted?" Hermit shot back in disbelief.
Impulse, still holding his minigun, scratched his head. "Yeah… wait, what's 'omniscient'?" he asked, completely mishearing Jeopardy.
"Amnesia!" Jeopardy clarified, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She doesn't remember anything, Impulse. I brought her here to be repaired. She's badly damaged. Now, put the gun down!"
Impulse raised a hand in surrender. "Okay, okay. How badly damaged are we talking? Like… on a scale of 0 to 10? Zero being she can walk it off, ten being about to die."
"8.5," Jeopardy said, quickly assessing her condition.
Impulse lowered his gun, the barrels spinning down as he clicked it back into place. "Alright, yeah. She can come in."
"Just like that?!" Hermit protested. "You're just going to let a Decepticon walk in? A Seeker no less?"
"You heard Jeopardy," Impulse said casually. "She's hurt."
"And we just give repairs to any Decepticon who walks through the door?" Hermit's optics blazed with frustration.
"You heard her," Impulse said, shrugging. "She doesn't even know what a Decepticon is. "
Jeopardy exhaled in relief as the situation began to defuse. He stepped outside and found the Seeker still hovering near the door, her optics wide with fear and uncertainty. "It's alright," he said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. "No more guns are going to be pointed at you. Come on in."
Hesitant but trusting Jeopardy's calm demeanor, the Seeker followed him inside. She moved cautiously, her optics flicking nervously between Hermit and Impulse. Hermit shot her a sidelong glance, while Agent Simmons, who had stayed quiet up to this point, looked up with raised eyebrows, suspicion clearly brewing behind his cool expression.
Jeopardy led her through the base and into the medical bay, trying to offer her some semblance of comfort as they passed by the wary, judgmental gazes of the others. When they entered the room, he glanced at her, sensing her unease.
"Don't worry about them," Jeopardy said, downplaying the tension. "They're just nervous."
He gently helped her onto an examination table, noticing how stiff she still seemed, no doubt processing everything that had just happened.
"What were those things they were calling me? Decepticon? Seeker?" She asked, confusion evident in her voice.
Jeopardy hesitated. "It's, um, hard to explain," he admitted, grabbing a diagnostic tool from a nearby shelf. "I need to use this to get some preliminary data. May I?" he asked, holding the probe up.
"Uh, sure," She agreed, her optics glancing warily at the tool.
Jeopardy carefully inserted the probe into a port on the back of her neck. As the screen blinked to life, data began to stream across the display. "Every Cybertronian has an encrypted black box of essential data," Jeopardy explained. "It's like a failsafe, a way to identify them if traditional means fail."
"So why can't I use it to remember who I am?"
"Well, it's one of the most protected parts of your processor. Only way to access the data is with a tool like this. Wouldn't be very secure if you could access it whenever." he explained, continuing to scan. After a moment, the screen produced results, and Jeopardy moved aside, letting the Seeker see the display for herself.
NAME: SLIPSTREAM
AGE: 24,862 STELLAR CYCLES
SPAWNPOINT: CRYSTAL CITY, CYBERTRON
"That's... my name?" Slipstream asked, as though the word didn't quite feel familiar on her tongue.
Jeopardy smiled gently. "Looks like it. Welcome to Earth, Slipstream."
Slipstream stared at the screen for a few seconds, still unsure how to feel. "Is there anything else?" she asked.
"No, that's all the data in the black box," Jeopardy replied, shaking his head.
"Is there any way we can get my memories back?" Slipstream asked, her voice tinged with desperation.
Jeopardy sighed. "Let's focus on keeping you from falling apart before we go down that path."
"Falling apart?" Slipstream echoed, her optics widening.
"You were in that forest for Primus knows how long, running low on energon and effectively in stasis," Jeopardy explained. "That prolonged inactivity, coupled with low energy, can do some real damage."
He gestured for her to lie back on the table. "May I examine your internal components?"
Slipstream, still disoriented, nodded. "Sure... but why do you keep asking me for permission?"
"Basic medical ethics," Jeopardy said with a small smile, carefully opening up her chest cavity to examine her internal workings. "You have a right to know what I'm doing and to decide what's done to your body."
After a few moments of examining her systems, Jeopardy frowned. "Well, the good news is, your spark chamber seems intact. No damage there. But your cardiovascular pump is arrhythmic."
"What does that mean?" Slipstream asked, the anxiety creeping back into her voice.
"It's not pumping energon properly," Jeopardy explained. He pulled out two shock pads from a nearby drawer. "I can resync it with these. Just to warn you, though, this is going to hurt... a lot."
"How much is a lot?" Slipstream asked warily, already not liking where this was going.
Jeopardy grimaced. "The kind you'll hope we only have to do once."
"Fantastic," she muttered.
"Alright… CLEAR!" Jeopardy shouted, activating the shock pads.
Slipstream screamed in pain as the electric charge jolted through her system, her body convulsing violently on the table. The shock pads worked instantly, resyncing her cardiovascular pump and getting her energon flowing properly again.
When the pain subsided, Slipstream lay on the table, panting. "Can we... never do that again?" she groaned.
Jeopardy chuckled, setting the pads aside. "I certainly hope so."
Jeopardy continued his examination, opening Slipstream's abdominal cavity and carefully inspecting the components inside. "Hmm," he muttered to himself, frowning slightly.
"What is it?" Slipstream asked, her optics following his every movement with growing concern.
"Your temperature regulator is completely fried," Jeopardy explained, shifting back to meet her gaze.
"What does that mean?" Slipstream asked, already worried about the implications.
"You have no way of keeping your body at a stable temperature. Without it, you're essentially cold-blooded, your systems won't be able to regulate their own heat," Jeopardy explained.
"Can you replace it?" Slipstream asked, hoping for some relief.
"I don't have a spare regulator, but I'll talk to Hermit. He might be able to help fabricate a new one. Thankfully, it's a relatively simple organ to replicate."
Slipstream gave a small nod of understanding. "What about everything else?" she asked, nervous about what other issues might crop up.
Jeopardy continued scanning her internals. "Well, there's only minor chipping in your T-Cog, but it's superficial, nothing too serious to worry about. But your lubrication module..." He trailed off, a more serious look on his face.
"Is that bad?" Slipstream asked, the tension rising again.
Jeopardy turned to her. "Slipstream, have your joints been feeling stiff? Hard to move?"
"A little..." she admitted, rolling her shoulders slightly.
"I figured as much." Jeopardy grabbed a small injector and inserted it into her lubrication module's intake valve. "I'm going to try something. It won't cause damage, it's just some lubricant."
He injected a dose of lubricant, watching as it flowed through the lines. "How about now?"
Slipstream flexed her joints experimentally. "Looser," she noted, sounding relieved.
"That confirms it. Your lubrication module is still providing lubricant to your joints, but it's no longer producing any. What I just gave you should last the rest of the day, but if I don't fix this, or if we can't, those injections will become a daily necessity."
"And if I don't get them?" Slipstream asked, her voice growing more tense.
"I won't sugarcoat it," Jeopardy said, "your joints will seize up, effectively immobilizing you. You wouldn't be able to move."
Slipstream's optics widened. "So I'd be stuck like a statue?" she asked, horrified by the idea.
"Exactly," Jeopardy confirmed, closing up her chest and abdominal cavity. "But don't worry, we'll figure something out before that happens." He shifted his focus, moving on to her limbs. "I believe I'm ready to examine your extremities?"
"My what?"
"Your arms and legs," Jeopardy clarified with a smile.
He opened up her left and right arms, carefully checking the internal components. "Your servos and muscular shafts are still intact," he observed, "though there's some damage to the left arm. Fortunately, your circulatory systems are holding up, no leaks, which is a small miracle in itself. However, I'm a little concerned about your right servo, it feels weaker than the left."
"Try clenching your fists," he instructed.
Slipstream did as she was told, but while her left hand formed a tight fist, her right one faltered, unable to clench as tightly.
"Is that bad?" she asked, looking at her hands.
"Yeah, it's not ideal. You've got some atrophy in your right arm, likely from disuse while you were in stasis. I'd recommend avoiding putting too much stress on that side."
"Can't you fix it now?" Slipstream asked, her hope rising.
"Right now replacing the servo is not available, but after a week or two of use, the atrophy should be reversed," Jeopardy explained, moving down to her legs.
As he began examining her left leg, his expression darkened. "Oh my... yeah, I'm glad I caught this in time."
"What is it?" Slipstream asked, anxiety returning in full force. "What's wrong now?"
"Your left leg's muscular shafts are in really bad shape," Jeopardy said, noting the damaged metal. "If we hadn't caught this sooner, they could've snapped under the weight of your body."
Slipstream winced at the thought. "Can you repair it?"
"I can, but I'd rather avoid any invasive procedures for now," Jeopardy said, closing her legs back up. "I'll talk to Hermit Crab about fabricating something to ease the pressure off your foot. For now, though, I need you to stay here. Don't stand up, okay? It's too risky with your legs in this condition."
Slipstream nodded slowly. "Alright... but you'll come back soon, right?"
Jeopardy smiled reassuringly. "I won't be gone long. Just stay put, and I'll get you fixed up in no time."
Jeopardy entered Hermit Crab's workshop, holding Slipstream's damaged temperature regulator in hand. "Just finished my diagnostic on Slipstream," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of determination and urgency. "I can repair most of the damage, but I need a new temperature regulator and an internal splint for her leg. I can get you the measurements later today. Think you can do it?"
Hermit turned from his workstation, staring at Jeopardy in disbelief. "You think I'm going to build new parts for our enemy?" he asked, his tone sharp and incredulous.
Jeopardy sighed, knowing this would be an uphill battle. "She's on our side, Hermit. She doesn't even know what a Decepticon is."
"Oh, so just because she's forgotten, we're supposed to forgive her for 10,000 stellar cycles of total war?" Hermit snapped, shaking his head. "You're talking about the Seekers, Jeopardy. They aren't innocent."
"She's a victim of this war, just like us," Jeopardy argued.
"Victim?!" Hermit's optics flared with anger. "Jeopardy, she is a WAR CRIMINAL!"
"We don't even know what she's done!" Jeopardy shot back.
Hermit's voice grew colder. "The Seekers are the most thorough and coldsparked killers in Megatron's army, only beaten by the Justice Division. They've reduced entire cities to rubble, and take no prisoners, at least ones that come back alive. You really think she's some innocent bystander?"
Jeopardy could feel the tension rising. "So, what? You think I should've left her to die?"
"I'm saying she's dangerous!" Hermit's voice was firm, a mixture of frustration and fear seeping into his tone as he avoided the question.
Jeopardy took a deep breath, calming himself. "What's done is done, she's already awake and we can't change that. We need to focus on what we can do now."
"And what should be done is getting her out of here," Hermit countered. "Have you ever considered the possibility that there are more Decepticons out there? You might've just kicked an Insecticon nest."
"If there were Decepticons on this planet, they'd have found us and wiped us out weeks ago."
Hermit's optics narrowed. "Meaning they aren't here yet . Jeopardy, this planet isn't some vacation where we can pretend the war is over. We have to be prepared for confrontation, and Slipstream is a beacon for the enemy. They'll find her, and then they'll find us, and when they do, we'll be dead."
"We can't just throw her out," Jeopardy said firmly, holding his ground. "She's injured, she can barely move, and she needs medical care. I'm not just abandoning someone in need."
"She's a Seeker. If she's survived this long, she'll continue to survive on her own," Hermit replied, his voice hard. "And if she could remember, do you honestly think she'd repay your mercy? She'd probably kill you without a second thought."
Jeopardy clenched his fists, frustrated by Hermit's cold logic. "So, we just toss her out because of a past she doesn't understand? Without giving her a chance? You wouldn't abandon a protoform."
Hermit's expression darkened. "Protoforms don't attack and destroy hospitals. Protoforms don't kill bots indiscriminately, or torture them until they beg for death. Protoforms don't burn entire cities to the ground and kill millions without a second thought. Protoforms didn't force us to leave our home. I'm not supporting this, Jeopardy. You're on your own with this."
Jeopardy's optics softened. "All I'm asking for is a splint and a temperature regulator. After that, you never have to interact with her again."
Hermit met his gaze, unflinching. "If you want it, build it yourself. The blueprints are in my files. I've got work to do, work that actually benefits us," he finished, turning back to his own projects, making it clear the conversation was over.
Jeopardy stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of Hermit's words. He quietly left the workshop, knowing that while the repairs would be up to him, Slipstream's fate was still uncertain.
Jeopardy returned to the medical bay, the blueprints for Slipstream's repairs clutched in his hand, muttering about Hermit under his breath as he set down his tools. His hands moved methodically, but his frustration was apparent.
"Everything alright?" Slipstream asked, her voice tentative as she watched him work, picking up on the simmering annoyance in his tone.
Jeopardy glanced up briefly, his expression softening. "Don't worry about it, I'm just frustrated."
"Is it something I did?" Slipstream asked, her optics reflecting concern.
"No, no," Jeopardy quickly reassured her, shaking his head. "Hermit's just… stubborn, that's all."
"Why doesn't he like me?"
Jeopardy paused for a moment, considering how to explain. "He's had a bad experience in the War. He'll come around eventually. Just... give him time."
Slipstream's brow furrowed. "War?"
Jeopardy sighed, knowing this conversation would eventually come up. "Yeah, we're… well, we're kind of involved in a war. A long one."
"Involved how?" she pressed, genuinely curious.
"We're fugitives, technically. Running from a megalomaniacal dictator who's trying to conquer the galaxy," Jeopardy explained as he continued to tinker with the lubricator module, his voice steady but weary.
"So why are you fighting him?"
"Because I don't like bullies," Jeopardy said with a quiet determination. "And I don't like tyrants and oligarchs telling me what I can and cannot do."
"Are those… Decepticons?" Slipstream asked hesitantly, glancing down at the Decepticon insignia on her chest. There was a sense of unease in her optics as if seeing the symbol for the first time and not knowing what it meant.
Jeopardy set down his tools briefly. He picked up a scalpel and carefully pried the Decepticon insignia off her chest, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clink. "We are Autobots," he said, meeting her gaze with quiet conviction. "But what side you land on is up to you."
Slipstream watched the insignia drop, then looked back at Jeopardy, a spark of clarity in her optics. "Then I'm on your side," she said, her voice steady, her decision made.
Jeopardy smiled, though there was a trace of sadness in it. "You sure? You side with us, and the largest army in the galaxy will be trying to kill us. And we don't have any backup."
Slipstream tilted her head slightly, her expression soft but resolute. "Why would I not side with you? You're saving my life."
Jeopardy chuckled, the tension from earlier easing a bit. "That's a good point." He finished the adjustments to the temperature regulator and set it aside. "Welcome to the Autobots, Slipstream. Primus knows we need all the help we can get."
Her optics brightened slightly, as if the weight of her past, whatever it may have been, lifted a little. For the first time, she felt like she belonged somewhere, even if it was with a small band of outcasts on a distant world.