CHAPTER 8: ARABIAN FIGHTS

Slipstream wandered into the area where Hermit Crab was engrossed in his work on the ground bridge. "Hey Hermit, have you seen Impulse? I wanted to tell him about Mount Rushmore."

"I don't know, probably out causing a traffic jam," Hermit responded dismissively, not looking up from his tools.

"What are you working on?" Slipstream asked, her curiosity piqued.

"A ground bridge," Hermit answered, his voice still focused on his work.

"What's a ground bridge?"

"A scaled-down version of space bridge technology," he explained. "Since we lack the materials or the energon reserves to make it back to Cybertron or connect with other Autobot forces. This will be our primary means of long-range transportation on Earth."

Slipstream blinked. "How does it work?"

"Because it's only meant for planetary range, it doesn't need transwarp tech. It uses Earth's GPS system to plot a jump and then opens a portal to the intended location."

"Does it work?"

"That's what I'm testing today," Hermit said, his tone shifting to something closer to pride. "I finally synthesized enough destronium to get the electronics functioning."

"What's destronium?"

"A superconductor," Hermit explained, "Without it, most of these components would fry and explode the second I threw that switch."

"Cool," Slipstream said, clearly impressed.

Hermit paused for a second, suspicious. "Where did this sudden interest in my work come from?"

"I walked in on you building a weird sci-fi thing," Slipstream replied with a grin. "Why wouldn't I be interested?"

"This isn't just some 'sci-fi thing,'" Hermit Crab grumbled, looking up from his work, "It's a complicated piece of Cybertronian technology."

"I'm pretty sure I've watched a movie with one of these," Slipstream countered with a grin.

"I doubt human propaganda captured a ground bridge accurately," Hermit retorted, frowning.

"What's propaganda?"

"Your former coworkers are well-versed in it," Hermit said pointedly.

Slipstream blinked in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. Now, could you please leave? I'm about to perform a trial of the bridge."

"Why am I not allowed to watch?"

"Safety," Hermit replied, though his tone hinted at a deeper concern. "And I'm worried hanging out with Impulse has affected your ability to not break my stuff."

"Oh, come on! I'm not that stupid. Just let me peek in from outside," Slipstream pleaded.

Hermit sighed but relented. "Alright, but no closer than the doorway."

Slipstream excitedly moved just outside the ground bridge room, making sure she followed his rules.

Hermit turned back to the console and powered on the bridge. The room filled with the hum of energy, and soon swirling green particles formed into a shimmering portal. He tossed a small tracking beacon through the portal and checked its GPS readout on his datapad. "First subject emerged in the intended location," he mumbled to himself, scribbling down notes.

"After a few more trials, I can begin experimenting with actual Cybertronians going through," he added quietly, already thinking of his next steps.

"Can I throw something into it?" Slipstream asked, reentering the room.

"I said past the doorway," Hermit Crab responded, not even looking up from his datapad.

"I thought that was just for the test," she said with a grin. "What else can we toss in?"

"I didn't synthesize destronium just to build a trash can. This is not a toy, it goes somewhere."

"Where?"

"Right now, I've selected an empty section of Earth's largest continent."

"Isn't that littering?"

"Not when it's a scientific experiment," Hermit shot back. "Besides, no one lives there. I checked."

"So can I test something going through?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know, maybe something big and heavy," Slipstream said, her optics lighting up with a sudden idea. "Can I go through it?"

Hermit glared at her over his shoulder. "Once I complete testing on inanimate objects and ensure things can go back through, I might consider testing on live subjects."

"How long will that take?"

"A few days, at minimum," Hermit replied, returning to his datapad.

"But now I really want to try going through," Slipstream pleaded, her excitement undimmed.

"Why the fascination with using it? It's just a ground bridge."

"Hermit Crab, you built a teleporter out of spare parts! That's the coolest thing I've ever seen anyone do in my life! Of course I want to try it."

Hermit's stern expression softened slightly, he wasn't immune to flattery. "I appreciate the enthusiasm," he acknowledged, "but it's still in the testing phase. Like you said, it's experimental scrap. Who knows if it can handle transporting something as complex as you."

Slipstream knew what he was saying, but she couldn't resist pushing. "I figured you, of all people, would jump at the chance to send me somewhere far away, with no way to get back."

Hermit raised a brow but didn't bite. "Yes, but Jeopardy would throw me in there after you if it failed, and your atoms got stretched across the planet like the galaxy's most annoying tarp. So no, you may not test it."

"Alright, Mr. Fun," Slipstream quipped sarcastically, heading for the door.

"Science is not about fun, it's about results!" Hermit called after her, shaking his head and returning to his work.

After a few hours, Hermit Crab had finally mastered the return mechanism, successfully sending probes through the ground bridge and having them reappear in the base without a hitch. Satisfied, he decided to call it a day. Tomorrow, he planned to test probes with energon containers, then energon-powered probes, each step bringing him closer to a reliable, stable ground bridge.

Just as he began powering down the equipment, Slipstream popped back into the room with a handful of objects she'd gathered over the day. "Hey, Hermit, how's the ground bridge coming along?"

"Progressing fine," he said, sounding both exhausted and pleased.

"Great! So, I was out with Impulse today, and we found this place called a library."

Hermit glanced at her, mildly interested. "Is this anecdote lengthy?"

"No, not really. Anyway, I thought maybe I'd pick up something for you," she said, pulling out a small piece of paper. "Since you're always doing all this sciencey stuff, I asked a human to go in and find stuff you might like. So they came out with this list. I'll let you pick what looks good." She handed him the paper.

Hermit squinted at the list and read it aloud, his tone growing increasingly skeptical. "Star Trek, Star Wars, Dune: Part 1, Terminator, Robocop, Doctor Who… What are these?"

"Science fiction!" she said with a grin.

He sighed. "I prefer science fact."

"Oh, don't be such a downer. Just give them a try! They're all supposed to be on the internet, you could probably stream them. Didn't they have anything cool like this back on Cybertron?"

"Nothing that captured my interest," he muttered.

"Then maybe this planet has something you'll like. You can't tell me it's all bad."

Hermit glanced at her, deadpan. "If their technological progress is anything to go by, I doubt it."

"Just give one a chance!" Slipstream persisted, moving over to Hermit's console and tapping buttons. "Hey, I've got an idea, let's watch it in the atrium! I'll just buy one here. I'm leaning toward Star Trek, sounds pretty epic."

"Slipstream, get away from that. This isn't meant for scanning the human 'interweb.'"

"Interweb? Wow, you sound like someone's grandpa," Slipstream teased, just as she hit a button that suddenly activated the ground bridge, sending a burst of swirling green light into the room. "Hey, you got it to work!"

"Turn it off! This is highly sensitive technology!" Hermit snapped, hurrying over.

"Alright, alright. Now let's see… which button did I press?" She squinted at the console, trying to recall her steps.

Hermit sighed, exasperated. "I think Impulse's below-average intuition is wearing off on you. Let me handle it," he grumbled, nudging her aside to shut down the bridge.

"What's your problem with Impulse? He's nice, fun, has an amazing sense of humor—"

"And he's also one of the dumbest bots this side of Andromeda," Hermit cut in, his focus on the console as the bridge stubbornly refused to power down. "One of him is enough. Two, and I may consider walking into the lake." He cast a quick glare her way. "What did you do?"

"I just clicked the globe button, it looked like an internet icon!"

"Then what?"

"Well… then I hit this one. It didn't work, so I figured maybe it needed to reboot." She pointed to another icon, wincing a little.

"You pressed the restart button multiple times without letting it fully reset?"

"So… hypothetically, what would happen if I did?" she asked cautiously.

Slipstream and Hermit Crab suddenly felt a powerful tug from the ground bridge. The low hum of the swirling portal intensified, its light growing brighter as the vortex spun faster and faster. The tug turned into a pull, and before they could react, the pull became a violent yank, dragging them both into the bridge.

With a flash, they were hurled through the portal and thrown onto the ground in a vast, desolate desert. Slipstream hit the sand first, skidding and half-burying herself in a dune. Hermit Crab followed, landing with a heavy thud. He immediately scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with horror as the ground bridge flickered behind them, its portal shrinking rapidly.

"NO! NO, NO, NO!" Hermit screamed, lunging toward the collapsing vortex. "DO NOT LEAVE ME HERE WITH HER!" He tried to leap back into the portal, but it snapped shut just before he could reach it, leaving only the quiet whistle of the desert wind.

Slipstream pushed herself out of the sand, shaking it off her arms as she looked around at the endless expanse of dunes and dry earth. "Wow, what was that?"

Hermit rounded on her, seething. "You overloaded the ground bridge, that's what!"

"I still don't get how that got us here."

Hermit groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The ground bridge generates a gravitational field to stabilize the portal. You kept restarting it, which overloaded the system, which multiplied the effect, and sucked us out into—" he gestured wildly at the barren landscape "—WHEREVER THIS IS!"

Slipstream looked around, confused. "What is this place? It's all... sandy."

"It's called a desert!" Hermit snapped, exasperated. "And as far as I can tell, we're stuck in the middle of one! So thank you, you absolute moron."

Slipstream asked, her optics narrowing with concern. "Can't we just turn the ground bridge back on and go home?"

"I never built a remote control for it! We'd need someone back in Chicago to reactivate the bridge!" Hermit fumed, pacing back and forth.

"So… stuck stuck?" Slipstream muttered, the gravity of the situation dawning on her.

"Yes! Once again, my life is ruined because of you!" Hermit barked, stomping off to calm himself and think. He sat down, muttering calculations under his breath as he began hastily sketching something in the sand, clearly trying to work out a solution.

Slipstream tapped the side of her head in frustration, trying to clear her commlink of the stubborn grains of sand clogging it. Static buzzed in her audio receptors no matter how much she fiddled with it.

Hermit Crab, sitting nearby with his datapad in hand, scowled. "I can't get any signal. This is useless."

"Do you at least know if we're still on Earth?" Slipstream asked, tilting her head.

"The ground bridge isn't capable of interplanetary transport," Hermit replied, his voice dripping with irritation.

"So… where are we?"

Hermit sighed, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. "Most likely the same spot where I've been sending all my test probes, since you didn't bother to enter any new coordinates before mashing every button on the console."

"And where's that?"

"The middle of the Arabian Desert!" Hermit snapped, gesturing to the vast expanse of endless dunes around them.

Slipstream scratched her head, looking at the barren landscape. "Okay, so what's the plan?"

Hermit groaned. "My plan is to find a way to contact the team so they can reopen the ground bridge and get us out of here."

"What if I flew back and opened it myself?" Slipstream suggested, activating her thrusters, only for them to sputter and fail. "Oh, come on! More sand?"

"Wow, sand in a desert. Shocking," Hermit muttered, deadpan.

Slipstream glared at him. "Can you help me get it out?"

Hermit thought about it, weighing his options and considering what may happen if he did, then replied. "No. I don't know how to fix your thrusters."

Slipstream sighed and kicked at the sand. "Great. Guess we're walking."

"Walking?" Hermit asked incredulously. "To where, exactly?"

"To a human city," Slipstream said, undeterred. "You can use their radios to do your science stuff and phone home."

Hermit raised a skeptical optic. "Slipstream, this desert is one of the most expansive, uninhabited regions on the planet. That's why I chose it, to avoid interference. There's nothing here for miles."

"And I'm saying," Slipstream countered, "this planet is full of humans, and they build stuff everywhere. If we just walk, we'll find someone eventually."

Hermit glanced around at the endless dunes, then up at the high-noon sun. He sighed again, but more resigned this time. "If I'm correct, the nearest human settlements are to the north."

"Okay, so which way is north?" Slipstream asked, shading her optics as she scanned the horizon.

Hermit hesitated, then pointed toward a distant dune. "That way."

"Cool. Let's get moving," Slipstream said, trudging forward with renewed determination.

Hermit followed, muttering under his breath, "Of all the bots I had to get stranded with…"

As they trudged through the unending expanse of sand, Hermit maintained a noticeable gap between himself and Slipstream, his optics flicking back occasionally to ensure she wasn't falling too far behind, or too close. His mistrust wasn't about her incompetence or even the fact that she'd gotten them stuck out here. No, it was deeper than that. She had been a Decepticon, and Hermit couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that this barren, witnessless desert was the perfect place for her to get rid of him if she chose. Still, he made sure he could see her, as he was certain Jeopardy would not allow him to return without her.

Slipstream, oblivious to his silent paranoia, trudged along behind him, muttering to herself. "Ugh, walking for so long sucks. I don't know how you guys do this," she groaned, kicking at the sand.

Hermit's expression didn't soften. "You wouldn't have to walk if you hadn't decided to mess with my ground bridge."

Slipstream frowned. "In my defense, I thought it was a computer. And for the record, I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I like to think I'm not a complete moron."

"That remains to be seen," Hermit replied dryly.

Slipstream let out an exaggerated huff. "If you're gonna keep the grump switch on, at least try to mask your insults."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermit snapped, turning slightly toward her as he walked. "Am I grumpy? Is that making you uncomfortable? Well, maybe I'm grumpy because I AM TRAPPED IN A DESERT!"

Slipstream threw up her hands. "Alright, alright, I get it. But, like, you could at least try to think positively."

Hermit scoffed. "Alright, I'm POSITIVE that when we get back, I'm putting a lock on the ground bridge controls and banning you from my workshop."

Slipstream paused for a moment, then gave a sheepish shrug. "Okay, you know what… I deserve that. Yeah."

After hours of trudging through the endless dunes, the sun finally dipped low, casting long shadows across the sand. Just as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on Slipstream, they stumbled across something remarkable: a paved road cutting through the desert.

Hermit examined it briefly and nodded. "We can follow this to the nearest city. Once there, I'll use their telecommunications network to contact the Autobots."

Slipstream sighed in relief, then groaned. "Hey, you mind if we stop here for the night? All this walking is making me tired."

Hermit sighed, clearly annoyed, but relented. "Fine. But first thing in the morning, we keep going. I can't fathom wasting another day out here with you."

As the sun finally set, the desert air turned cool, and the two sat in silence under a sky now filled with stars.

"So," Slipstream began, trying to break the ice, "what's the first thing you want to do when we get back?"

"Continue my work," Hermit said flatly.

"Not even a little break? We could watch one of those sci-fi shows. I think you'd get a kick out of Doctor Who."

"Uninterested."

"In the show?"

"In spending any more time with you than necessary."

Slipstream furrowed her brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermit didn't respond, his optics focused on the road ahead, refusing to meet her gaze. The silence between them grew heavy, and Slipstream couldn't tell if it was the desert chill or Hermit's cold demeanor that sent a shiver through her frame.

"Dude, come on," she said, her voice low but trembling. "I'm trying to be nice to you. I've been trying since I woke up. Yet no matter what I do, you shut me down. Why don't you like me?"

"I have no interest in fraternizing with terrorists," Hermit snapped, his tone cold.

"But I'm not… I don't even know what that word means," Slipstream protested, her voice rising slightly. "Is this about the Decepticons? I don't know anything about my life before Earth."

"Ignorance is not an excuse for atrocities."

Slipstream took a step back, her confusion turning to frustration. "Hermit, I get you're scared, I am a bit too, but—"

"No, no, stop that," Hermit interrupted, his voice filled with venom. "Stop that bullscrap. You do not know how I feel!"

"I'm just trying to empathize with you," Slipstream said softly, her tone pleading. "What's with the hostility?"

"You cannot empathize with me because we are not alike. We are nothing alike!" Hermit hissed, his optics narrowing.

Slipstream hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm not the one who partook in the destruction of the only home I've ever known," Hermit spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I didn't get a choice in where I ended up. Do you think I want to be on this planet? Surrounded by primitive life forms, away from the Engineering Corps? I was forced to leave the one place I felt comfortable, by your side, your actions!" Hermit's frame trembled with barely contained anger. "I wanted to make our base a defensible outpost, to prepare for the day we could finally get help or leave. Then you show up and throw a wrench into that!"

Slipstream's optics flickered, her voice breaking. "I'm just trying to figure out where I belong. How is that throwing a wrench into anything? I didn't choose this either, I didn't ask to be left for dead in a forest."

"Well if it were up to me," Hermit said, his voice cutting like a blade, "you would have stayed in that forest."

Slipstream stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the ground as Hermit's words sank in. He'd essentially said he wished she'd been left to die, left to rust and decay alone in that forest, lost and forgotten. The thought pierced her like a blade, sharp and cold. A thousand tiny memories, barely formed but flickering like sparks, came to her mind: Jeopardy's steady guidance, Impulse's infectious energy, Stormsurge's patient friendship. She'd only just begun to understand friendship, to feel that she belonged somewhere. But here was Hermit, suggesting all of it was a mistake. Her spark felt hollow, her thoughts tangled in the hurt he'd left with those few callous words.

Hermit, for his part, sat rigidly, his face set in a hard line, perhaps unwilling to take back what he'd said. And yet a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed a flicker of hesitation. It was the kind of twitch that appeared when someone knew they'd crossed a line, but pride held them back from admitting it. He shifted slightly in the sand, hands curling and uncurling, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the endless stretch of dunes. His frustration and anger had bubbled over in that unguarded moment, and now he wrestled with the aftermath, caught between resentment and a vague sense of guilt he hadn't expected.

"You're an ass, you know that?" Slipstream finally muttered, her voice tight with restrained hurt. She lay down on the cooling sand, turning her back to Hermit, who stayed silent. In the quiet, she closed her optics, focusing on the steady rhythm of her own spark. She was tired, tired of fighting for understanding, tired of trying to prove herself. For now, all she wanted was to block out the weight of his words and the emptiness of the desert around them.

That morning, Slipstream woke up to an unsettling emptiness. The cool desert air was still, and Hermit was nowhere in sight. Her optics scanned the horizon, but all she saw was the endless expanse of sand and the solitary road stretching out in both directions. Panic flickered through her, had he really left her behind? She knew Hermit disliked her, but leaving her stranded out here? That seemed extreme, even for him. She stood, scanning the ground, and noticed a faint trail of disturbed sand leading to the road. It looked like tire tracks. With a groan of frustration, she set off along the trail, determined to catch up and give him a piece of her mind.

As she followed the road, a distant honking cut through the quiet. Her optics narrowed, and soon enough, a small car appeared on the horizon, speeding toward her. "Don't leave me like that, you jackass!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the dunes. The car skidded to a stop and transformed, revealing Hermit Crab, his expression as impassive as ever.

"I was simply making progress while you slept," he explained flatly. "I always intended to return once my task was complete."

"A note would've been nice, Hermit!"

"I assumed I would arrive before you woke up," he said, brushing off her irritation.

Slipstream crossed her arms. "And what exactly were you doing?"

Hermit raised a hand, activating his commlink. "Jeopardy, 5 kliks from my position."

Almost immediately, the familiar swirling green energy of a ground bridge opened nearby.

"Found a human settlement. I managed to establish contact with Chicago and talk Jeopardy through fixing your... mishap." Without another word, Hermit stepped through the portal. Slipstream sighed, muttering under her breath, before following him through.

On the other side of the ground bridge, Slipstream and Hermit emerged into the familiar expanse of the Autobot base. Jeopardy was already waiting for them, relief on his face. "Thank Primus you both are alright," he said, taking a moment to check them over for any visible damage.

Hermit dusted off his hands, already moving toward his workshop. "I believe it's safe to say the ground bridge is now functional. However, long-term stability remains an unknown factor," he reported with his usual precision, not stopping to exchange pleasantries.

Jeopardy's optics followed Hermit's retreat before turning to Slipstream, noticing the palpable tension hanging in the air. "Is everything alright?" he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

Slipstream crossed her arms, clearly still agitated. "That's the last time I ever do anything with him," she huffed. "I can't believe I even tried to be nice."

Jeopardy tilted his head. "What happened?"

"We both said things," she muttered, her voice tight. "I don't want to get into it."

Jeopardy respected her privacy and let it go for now. "Fair enough. Anything physical that needs fixing?"

"Yeah, I've got sand in my ankle thrusters. Hermit said he couldn't repair it."

Jeopardy frowned. The procedure to remove sand was basic, something even Hermit, with all his technical expertise, could've handled easily. His suspicion grew, but he kept his tone neutral. "Alright. I can help with that. Just give me a moment."

"What are you going to do?" Slipstream asked, narrowing her optics.

"Just wait for me in the med bay," Jeopardy said, already heading in the direction Hermit had gone. "I'll be there shortly.

Jeopardy quickly found Hermit Crab in the workshop, striding in with purpose. "You mind telling me what's going on?" he said, his voice low but firm.

Hermit barely glanced up from his console. "You'll have to be more specific."

"I'm talking about you refusing to repair Slipstream's ankle thrusters. Don't act like you couldn't handle it, it's a simple procedure."

Hermit's hands paused over his tools. "I did not believe it would be safe."

"Safe?" Jeopardy repeated, incredulous. "Hermit, she's on our side. What does she have to do to convince you of that?"

Hermit turned, meeting Jeopardy's optics without hesitation. "Actions speak louder than words, and so far, I have seen none."

Jeopardy's frown deepened. "And what exactly did you say to her? Because she looked like you really got to her."

"I spoke my mind."

"Don't dance around the issue."

"You sound upset," Hermit observed, his tone detached.

"I am upset," Jeopardy shot back, stepping closer. "She's trying to get along with you, and all you've done is push her away."

Hermit remained unmoved. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stop whatever it is you're doing and apologize."

Hermit raised an optic ridge. "And you think that will automatically solve Slipstream and I's mutual animosity?"

"No," Jeopardy admitted. "But it's a start. It shows her you aren't completely robotic."

Hermit hesitated, then said stiffly, "I will consider it."

"No," Jeopardy snapped, "you WILL do it. I'm ordering you to."

"You are not a commanding officer," Hermit said evenly.

"No, but I am the de facto leader of this group and your friend. And I'm telling you: stop burying yourself in your work, take some time off, think about what you said, and sincerely apologize to Slipstream."

Hermit's optics narrowed slightly, but Jeopardy didn't wait for a rebuttal. He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Hermit alone with his thoughts.

Jeopardy walked into the med bay to find Slipstream waiting, her posture slouched and her optics dim. "Sorry you had to deal with Hermit," he said, pulling out his tools. "I'm not even going to try to excuse his behavior."

Slipstream let out a soft sigh. "Thanks… I just don't get it. I haven't done anything wrong, but all he sees is a bomb waiting to go off."

Jeopardy knelt and began opening up her ankle thruster, carefully cleaning out the sand. "Prejudice is often irrational and difficult to overcome."

Slipstream shook her head. "I'm done trying to appeal to him. If he wants to treat me like garbage, why should I keep trying to be nice?"

Jeopardy paused, looking up at her. "Because meeting coldness with more coldness will only make things worse. There's nothing wrong with choosing not to engage, but don't let his attitude drag you down to his level."

Slipstream frowned. "So what, I'm just supposed to pretend he didn't say I shouldn't be alive?"

"That's not what I-" Jeopardy froze for a moment, his tools hovering over her thruster. "Wait, he said that?"

"Well, not directly, but it was in the subtext."

Jeopardy muttered under his breath before refocusing. "Look, I'm not saying to forget it or let it slide. But meeting irrational hatred with passive aggressiveness isn't going to help either of you. If anything, it'll just make things more toxic."

Slipstream crossed her arms. "And what am I supposed to do? Just wait around for him to decide I'm not some ticking time bomb?"

Jeopardy nodded as he finished with her ankle thruster and moved on to her commlink. "In a way, yes. Hermit's a scientist, right? He values logic and evidence. Words won't change his mind, but consistent, meaningful action might. If he observes you over time, sees that you're not a threat, he'll start to adjust."

"That sounds like it could take forever," Slipstream muttered.

"It's not an overnight fix," Jeopardy admitted. "It could take weeks, maybe months. But eventually, he might treat you with indifference, which for Hermit is practically a glowing endorsement."

Slipstream let out a half-hearted laugh. "Great, indifference. Something to look forward to."

Jeopardy smiled gently. "It's progress. And in the meantime, you've got the rest of us in your corner."