Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own Transformers. I really like their giant robots and think they deserve a happier ending.
Warnings: Reunion Time! It's split into parts (because the last chapter just about killed me) (ºº)
"Had Some Help With The Show pt 1"
Terri chirped in the silence following Bee's admission. He just sat there with sad, sad optics like he'd admitted to killing a Magnus. Cypress tipped her helm, quickly realizing why she'd been dragged back to the attic for a 'huge secret'.
"So, Blackout's your sire?"
"You're not shocked?"
Far from it.
"Dude, nothing surprises me anymore. Invite him over at the next truce."
Looking back, them sharing CNA made sense. They didn't share too many outer features, but that could easily be traced back to symbiont coding. Bee took the hardware of his carrier, ran software like his sire, and drove everyone nuts like his sire's charge. It made perfect sense.
"But it's weird!"
Cypress shrugged, "Nah? Blackout's pretty chill, you're pretty chill. You're resistant to shock and you like scorpions. You both have faction devotion issues–" she trailed off as Bee started twisting his servos.
"That obvious huh? I guess it could be worse." His frame started jerking erratically, his venting became uneven.
Slaggit.
Cypress squeezed his cheeks, "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Stay with me here."
Terri beeped, undersized wings beating madly as she paced the floor.
"Shhh, birdie."
The noise woke Hirsch from his nap at the other side of their berth and sent the sparkling's field into a chasm of uncertainty.
Bee's vents made a gasping noise and he folded into a full-blown panic attack.
Cypress rubbed his helm, "'S'okay don't cry."
It was a stupid thing to say–because that only served to set Bee off. Unlike the fear in the other two's fields, he radiated abandonment drenched in pure anger.
"They promised they would protect us. And Lockdown said I can pick where to go from here. I don't know where though… Why's he being so nice out of nowhere?! Nothing makes any sense!"
Cy kneaded a folding plate behind his horns, letting Bee bury his helm in her lap.
Terri managed to climb up her leg and nestle beside the scout's thigh to groom.
"Why is she touching me?"
"Terri's preening you, she's trying to make you feel better."
Bumblebee let out a quiet grumble.
"You know you like it."
A patchwork of reassurances burbled from the bird ending with, "Who's a good boy?"
Bumblebee side-eyed the bird.
"Good boy?" Terri repeated with a decisive beak clack.
He sighed, "I am."
Terri warbled and set about grooming him again.
Bee dropped his helm back down. "I'm talking to a bird! That's only slightly better than Lockdown!"
The Pred sighed, "Well Lock's disturbed and he's got his own views. He's not a faction mech. You are here on the Ark, safe. You beat New Kaon."
"But It's All WRONG." The tension in his vocalizer screamed of an impending worse breakdown.
Cypress nodded, tapping out a gentle rhythm on his helm, "Ask yourself why what's happened wrong and through whose optics you're seeing it. Your own? Or what you've been told the right path is?"
There was a soft clank as a tiny servo landed on Bee's thigh.
Pat pat pat
Bee cracked an optic, "Hey kiddo."
The sparkling pointed an accusatory digit at him then mock scratched at his optics.
"Yes. He is sad." Cy supplied.
Swat
"Alright you little menace, don't hit. Bad people hurt him."
Instead, Hirsch kept swatting Bee as if it were urgent he not make any more noises. Cypress dropped her sandstorm cover over the kid, making him flail in panic. She coiled her tail around the menace and kept a servo between Bee's doorwings. Eventually, he folded into his alt, silent.
Oh great.
Cypress copied, transforming to lay her head on his hood. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
The sparkling reemerged with a huff and hit at her tail.
He leaped back with a servo pricked by translucent dud spines.
"I said don't hit."
Cypress dragged the now quietly sobbing kid into their huddle letting her frame thrum with a soothing EM.
"What am I gonna do with you all? You need a purpose and you need a name. Poor lost things…"
Bee made a weak warbling noise to rival Terri at her most pitiful.
"Bee, you're worried about the wrong thing. Who else is going to be stupidly cheerful despite everything going wrong? Or stupid violent..."
No matter how he seemed Cypress was convinced the mech was just channeling his misery into action. The way he tore through his opposition back in New Kaon was breathtaking, inspiring a mix of pride and worry.
What would happen if–when there wasn't anyone to fight?
"C'mon, look at me."
Bee reluctantly lit his headlights.
"A soldier doesn't stop being so, you just move to something else worth your loyalty. You did great, your best. They're stupid to reject you."
"They never wanted me to begin with."
"Frag 'em. We don't need 'em."
"But-"
"Frag. Them. All. We're getting exiled to Earth right? Terrans have a long history of exiles making their own way after the worst. I won't lie and say this will be easy but it'll be on your own terms. We take turns in this bond, right? Follow my lead."
"Ok."
"Now as for you," Cypress lifted the hissing varmint up, dropping him on Bee's hood.
"You need a name."
"Now what's your designation?"
"-No.-" He signed clumsily.
"How come, little dude?"
"-None.-"
"You don't have a designation," Cypress hummed, "You look like a Gyros."
"That's a sandwich." Bee deadpanned.
"That's gy-ro and only if you use that glyph."
Bumblebee finally burst out of his alt-mode, "That's legit the first pronunciation of that glyph! One trip to Earth and he's going to get teased."
"Well, he looks like his name starts with G."
"Gunner."
"Too close to Gunther."
"Hunter."
"Nahhh."
The kid tapped his digits together.
"You like H?"
A nod.
They locked optics, "Hirsch."
"You're cool with that for now, kiddo?
"You can change it anytime."
The sparkling pulled back shyly before nodding.
Cypress retook his servo and spelled 'H-I-R-S-C-H' twice, once in Hand and then in ASL.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Bumblebee."
"You can call me Cypress."
Hirsch wasn't interested in names, he wanted back into the safety of her hold. Bee poked at him, "You can recharge over here. No hard feelings."
Hirsh curled into the crook of his arm, yawning.
Bumblebee traced his rounded cheeks then his slightly darker grey arms. Hirsh was still all gray, but he seemed to brighten into Ark orange by the nano.
Natural camouflage.
"He's adorable," Cypress cooed.
"Uh-huh," Bee made a vague gesture. His optics cycled before brightening, "You wanna keep him?"
Cypress squirmed with discomfort, "I know jack all about any species of kid. Poor thing's childhood is gonna be screwed."
"Well, neither do I. We can't ask 'Mia and Hide. Everyone else is busy…Think we'd be good parents?"
Cypress shared the vivid memory of clinging to his hood for dear life as Spec Ops chased them off the Ark or two of Decepticon high command, easily keeping them at an easy, isolating pace. Starscream's one-eighty-degree mood change had her on edge. They needed help.
"No, but good is relative. We can keep him safe and fed."
"Until someone else can?"
"Sure…" she curled into his side, helm nestled on his shoulder. "What's with the paternal instincts all of a sudden?"
"If I could be half the mech Prowl was in my life to someone else that's all I could ask for. Hirsch doesn't have a chance alone with Ops, but he could here with us."
Cy remembered all the grudging motherly things Marci did–and the times they swung from mother-daughter to co-conspirators in crime all with the same warmth of safety.
She ran a digit under the kid's chin. Hirsh rubbed his cheek against it, while keeping his digits secured to Bee's plating , clinging to them both like a lifeline.
"Well he is a sparkling and there is one of him. Sure."
"Kid and a bird?"
"Kid and a bird."
Someone grinding boulders together woke her. Hirsch sat upright in the middle of their huddle, growling at the trap door. Bumblebee met her concerned gaze.
~ That's not a normal noise ~
~ Is he sick? ~
Cypress stroked the kid's ruffled back plating and motioned for quiet. Hirsch's face screwed up like he'd smelled something rank.
Old habits died hard. Bumblebee took point using the dark room to his advantage. Cypress dropped to all fours, keeping Hirsch under her and Terri shadowing her side.
The abrasive voice ringing through the flooring had both formers relaxing into a slump.
Bee snuck back over quietly despite having the Cybertronian version of steel-toed boots for peds. He ducked back to the berth with a digit to his mouth.
It wasn't needed. Ratchet's ribbing and the trap door slamming open covered up any scant amount of noise they made.
"Come on, this is my spot."
"How do you even get up here?"
"Jump, racer."
A hard crash and a suggestive tangle of limbs followed. Despite that, the medic was in no hurry to push him off.
Drift caged his helm, his digits caressing a cheek. "Your spots aft, Ratch." The medic relaxed, his heavily lined optics softening.
Cypress made a strangled noise over bond and Bee's processors turned to mischief.
~ One near-death experience and everyone loses their minds. He never brings partners on board! ~
"Haven't been up here in–" Ratchet paused and turned his headlights to full brightness. "What are you two doing up here?!"
"Sleeping." Cypress clipped, "At least we were…"
Bee leaned in, smirk growing, "What are yall up to?"
Ratchet ignored their questions with a frustrated huff, pushing Drift off him. "I leave you alone for less than an orn, and not only have you upgraded, but bonded and had a sparkling."
"But we're not–"
"Save your voice, kiddo, " Drift teased, "Everyone knows."
If she were human, her ears would be red, "Adulthood speedrun?"
"No." The medic rumbled.
Drift leaned forward, "Can I see him?"
Hirsch refused and stayed nested in the crook of Bee's arm, unnaturally quiet but trying to growl all the same. He should have still been able to make engine noises but he chose not to.
Drift stroked his helm anyway, "Ratch…his vocalizer…he's not...whole."
"We saw," Cypress murmured.
Ratchet scooted closer. "His vocalizer has been removed–"
Hirsh quailed, plating drawing tight, and tried to squirm away.
"This is Ratchet. He's a friend," Bee soothed. "He's going to help you."
Ratchet offered a servo, waiting until the sparkling finally reached out a fragile tentative digit. "See? Not so scary, huh? Where'd he come from?"
"The Ark. He was stasised by the previous crew I guess."
Cypress growled, "I need to have a word with Hound."
"It's not his fault, Cy."
"Well, it's someone's."
Ratchet hummed, "Kid doesn't look bad all things considered. " The medic offered him a goodie, which Hirsch shoved into an arm compartment.
The kid resettled and stared with his big yellow optics.
"What do we say?" Bee prompted.
Hirsch let out a grinding hiss.
Ratch sighed, "You sure you two are up for this? That's too many changes for you all in too short a span."
"Nah, but neither were my guardians," Cypress shrugged, "Someone looked after me, so now I know what not to do. We found him, who else is gonna watch him?"
"Can't be any worse than having a sparkling during a war…" Bumblebee trailed off, watching Drift closely. "What did my parents do?"
The mercenary froze.
"I saw your tribute in New Kaon. And their picture. I don't think Blackout remembers… but he has an idea."
Drift dipped his helm, "He and Lightfire were very involved, I got sitter duties. The pets and the symbiotes filled in when necessary. Soundwave wanted nothing to do with it."
"Ravage dropped me off with the Autobots…"
"Huh… I always thought Sounders had it out for you…guess I was wrong. They did love you, Bee. It was just a horrible set of circumstances."
"I always thought I was a mistake."
"No. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Bee let out a ragged vent, "I wouldn't have believed you."
Hirsh started digging into Bee's plating, searching for fuel.
"Is it okay if he uses our fuel lines? I don't think he can handle the Ark's energon just yet. We've been letting him piggyback off of our systems."
"Yeah, let him. It'll build a stronger bond. Feed 'em enough and they start to look like you."
"Good. He's a little…"
"Bald." Bee blurted.
"Bumblebee!" Cypress hissed.
"He is! You're kinda funny looking, kid."
"Don't tell him that."
"Hirsch looks like a pre-commissioned sparkling should. He'll grow into it." Ratchet frowned, "He doesn't have a serial number… Odd. You don't want your treat?"
Hirsch met Ratchet's optics and snapped a tiny mouthguard over his face.
"Well then. Med bay. Let's go."
Cypress covered Hirsch's audios. "You're just mad we interrupted you getting your engine light checked–"
"Hush."
The former younglings honed in like a pair of coyotes to pester them.
"Aw look! He's blushing."
Ratchet, however, had experience.
"Have you at least been using baffles? Both of you. I don't want any more surprises."
"Hey! Audios!"
For a 'former that took up a little more space than Terri, Chromia could fill a room.
Cypress winced and quickly realized it wasn't her Chromia was after.
Drift sped up.
"Come on, I just want to talk, Locky."
Drift still kept a wide distance away from her. He only slowed at her next words.
"You threatened Mags for me?"
The mercenary's plating puffed up like an angry raptor, "You just happened to be there…and there's not many of us original 'Cons left."
"My hero," Mia snorted, turning her relaxed drawl to Cy. "You're using a rifle as a maul. You know what that does to its accuracy?"
Cypress cowed.
"Explain yourself, soldier."
"I don't shoot for accuracy, my aim is maximum damage." She unloaded her weapon's chamber and offered up the varied spines within, along with micro-trackers.
Chromia stepped closer, giving Cy the rare opportunity to be at optic level with a superior. "Resourceful… I like you."
Mia then snatched Bee by his non-existent scruff. "How dare you get taller than me, runt?"
He scooped her up and spun her around, "Hey, 'Mia, missed you."
The heavily armored two-wheeler mussed his helm plating, "Good to have you back in the land of the living."
Hirsch made a slight rumble.
Chromia took one look at the sparkling and frowned, "Alright, who's kid did you steal?"
"He was already in the Ark… We don't know…"
"Just like OP…" she muttered, "Always dragging strays home. You got a name?"
"He can't talk."
"Perfect match, mine won't talk. She's shy."
To Hirsch's credit, he looked interested for the nanos before he purged all over Bee's arm.
"Why?"
"You spun him like a top. Frag you mean why?" Cypress snorted.
"Stop fragging swearing!"
Hirsch tapped their arms, "-Sorry-"
"You didn't do anything wrong." Bee elbowed her in the side. Cypress aimed a kick at his ankle.
Ratchet snatched Hirsch up before they could fully start play fighting. "Cut it out sparklings—med bay for all of you."
Five joors and seven back-to-back scans later, Cypress fidgeted as the diagnostic cables withdrew from her helm. Ratchet wasn't taking any chance of missing out on whatever was going on with their bond. She supposed that had something to do with her multiple scans.
That and Bee's ill-timed crack that she scared Soundwave.
Or the mega-cycle in the mystery CR goop...
Or the new internal venom pouches…
Or—
Ratchet pushed her off the exam table, "Get over there and don't bite anyone else. I'll deal with you later."
The medic let out a long, exhausted vent. "You all have an active virus. Did you know that?" Ratchet said flatly.
Arcee sighed, "Yes. I have an old log. I looked up everything I could when it first started. It thrives on instability and stressed sparks. Our pain and memories get shared. Jazz?"
Jazz slumped sitting the wrong way in an office chair, reluctant to speak for once. "I caught it first. It was something left over from Shockwave's lab… Worst overheating I've ever had. It circulated between the four of us and spread from there."
"Forward anything you have. I've never seen anything like this…"
"Proto-gestalt bonding," Drift offered. "It's a weaponized bond."
"Yes, thank you. Now leave."
The swordsmech stubbornly parked himself in a corner.
Ratchet frowned deeper, "You have a problem with Drift being in here?"
Prowl responded in their behalf. "No, he's got the gift of prophecy."
"Nah, I can read a room though. Everything I said would happen in the Ferrin Depths happened, didn't it? And now this. You, Jazz, and Lockdown had different EMs before."
Ratchet cut Drift off, frame dancing with heatwaves, "And you have been altering any scans or test results, inducting unsuspecting Transformers, and self-medicating."
Jazz cringed away from the oncoming tirade, closer to Lockdown, "Some of that wasn't on purpose though…"
"Y'all let me sit through bond sickness in your room with zero explanation …" Cypress deadpanned.
Bumblebee matched her tone, "I'm still mad you guys didn't notice me back in Iacon."
"I can hear their thoughts now." RoadRage grumbled, "Why the frell do you two talk about fish so much?"
"Well I'm having fun," Voltage shrugged.
"Asking me for makeup tips while I'm fighting is not my type of fun!"
"Ok, that was accidental…"
"It could be worse, we thought about bringing Hot Rod in." Jazz argued back.
Arcee let out an unsettling bark of laughter, "That would have been fun."
To Cypress, it sounded more like this Hot Rod would've been tormented to death by Cee…or eaten.
Drift's optics shifted from 'former to 'former, keeping tabs on the conversation and subtly logging how their bond operated. With the secret out there wasn't a reason to hide.
Even if Jazz's EM read otherwise.
Sideswipe raised his servo, "Sunny and I still have a mild connection to 'em. It's not too bad."
Sunstreaker made an indescribable noise, "If I never have to be in your helms again it'll be too soon. Just stay on your side."
Ratchet took a quiet, stressed intake. "There's no introductory period anymore? You can just hand off your bond?"
All optics turned to Arcee, the one with the alleged ability to throw out bonds willy-nilly.
Voltage fanned her wings out. "You can compel 'formers then."
"No more than Jazz."
"Shut up, Cee."
"Nope." The Terrorcon turned back to Voltage, "I'm just as blind as you are with this… No pun intended. I can invite–I can threaten–in the end, it's up to the 'former to accept it.
A bond on the fly might have come in handy once or twice with Moony…it wears off after an orn." Arcee nodded to the twins, "You two should be alright."
"Was Moony okay with that?" Sunny bit back.
"It's Moonracer…of course! She might have had to delete those memories afterward, but she's fine overall. Now."
"The stupid rabbits were right…" Cypress muttered.
Drift nearly broke a line whipping his helm around. "They were from Eukaris? What did they say in as clear Cy-Stan as you can manage?"
She shrugged and gave Terri a reassuring stroke.
"Something about an old line of code the first Transformers used. Sounds like they functioned like us. Their clans threw them out and they recentered around a Terrorcon." Cypress traced an infinity symbol in the air with one claw.
"Everything returns eventually. Also, some dude named Shockwave might have something to do with re-igniting the code."
By the time she finished, Drift's optics had gone pastel pink.
"Did I say something wrong? "
The gunmech shook his helm slowly. "No. In fact, I wish it were less clear. That's confirmation, then. You ten–" he glanced down at Hirsch. "-Eleven– have to be the most cursed 'formers I've ever met. How'd you manage contact with the Dread and Shockwave? No. I don't want another rundown, not now. Just–I'd keep the membership to a minimum. You're being targeted."
Drift got interrupted again.
"Any of you feel this one?" Ratchet hoisted a drowsy sparkling up one- servoed.
A chorus of 'no's' followed.
"Good, so he's just normal ill."
Hirsch hung listless and sad before snuffling like a waterlogged vacuum. Whatever calm mood he'd been in evaporated. Any attempt Ratch made to put him on an exam table made the kid thrash like a wild animal. Bee had to hold him as the old medic began the uncomfortable process of IV-ing him.
Hirsch keened.
The rest of the Sparkeaters cringed.
About the time Ratchet was halfway through, the kid twisted sideways, mouth guard open, mouth wide, as a terrifying claw-tipped glossa dug into the medic's servo–
"Prima-dammit, you two…"
"What?!"
"We didn't know?!"
"What's wrong with him, Ratch?" Jazz ventured. From the spike of caution in Lockdown's EM, he already knew.
Hirsch must have too; he collapsed into muffled wails.
Taking advantage Ratchet finished quickly, "You're okay, sweetspark, that's all you needed."
Bee drew him in closer, securing a servo over his back. Seeing his tiny frame so stressed and exposed did Cypress in.
She drifted over, joining Bee at the exam table.
Cy tapped his side, "-We're going to have to talk about biting.-"
"-He's gonna hurt me!-"
"-He might pinch you for that stunt, but he's a good mech. If you're still scared we'll be here.-" Bee added.
"-Wanna leave.-"
Ratchet sighed, "You don't have mouth-parts like that and consume energon."
Bumblebee shrugged, "Well we'll find him unrefined ener–"
Ratchet held up the deep four-pronged gash mark on his servo.
Drift grimaced, "He eats sparks. Everything returns."
"Oh."
"Good news is, his lines are clear, vitals are healthy–"
"What are we going to do about… y'know."
"I can synthesize a grade his tank will tolerate. I've never seen a 'former like this. Hirsch…Where'd you two get that name from?"
"Galactic Guardians."
"Of course…" Ratchet sighed and freed the sparkling with a mobile drip stuck to his upper arm.
Hirsch scrambled back but stopped to rub at his throat.
The old medic attempted to get down to his level, "Is that what happened at your last check-up?"
He cut the medic a wary glance that no creature should have. Hirsch gave a slow nod.
"Let me see and I'll see about getting that fixed for you."
Hirsch hid his face in Bee's plating.
"Later then."
"Your kid is weird," Sunstreaker called.
"And you don't have any hometraining," Bee snapped back.
"How quick we forget who used to pull you out of the HVAC system."
The frontliner ignored him in favor of poking at Hirsch. He attempted to at least. Cypress unhinged her jaw just on the periphery of his vision.
"He looks weak."
"Lay off. He doesn't even have his colors yet," RoadRage argued.
Unlike Ratchet, Hirsch seemed taken with Sunny. Kids liked shiny things…and people that wanted nothing to do with them.
"We're short on time and resources, let's get this over with now," Lockdown rumbled. "What's the likelihood of him turning on us?"
Cypress watched Ratchet's armor clamp tight. From someone, it felt like Sides, a sharp memory cut into her processor. A stalking figure moving among the casualties on a battlefield, harvesting parts from the living, dead, and those caught in between.
The line between scavenging parts and mutilation seemed to be a jump rope for wartime etiquette. Lockdown had no line and that set the old heads off.
Despite whatever hatred he still held, Ratchet answered, "Not sure. He's no Massicon. Hirsch is somewhere between nine and ten vorns. That's a lot of time to show him better."
The kid was actively trying to dig into Bee's hold now.
"We're not giving him back," Bee rumbled.
"Of course not, Bumbles," Arcee cut in, "But he has to pass muster like everyone else."
RoadRage frowned, ~ I didn't have initiation. ~
~ You work with Drift. You're pre-approved. ~ Lockdown said.
~ For crying out loud, don't scare him to death and don't pull that reverse psychology slag with him either, ~ Cypress snapped, ~ He's already scared to death. ~
~ And what would you have done with a potentially dangerous teammate unaware of their strengths? ~ Prowl snapped back.
~ Not. That. ~
Lockdown strode over, "Hey, newbie. Yeah, you, tiny. Can you fight?"
Hirsch tensed and looked to Bee.
"Go on, he won't hurt you."
A headshake.
"You'll learn. The only former you need to fear is that medic over there and he's a pushover."
Ratchet raised an optic ridge.
"You knew your insides were jacked up. What are you? Are there any others?"
Hirsch shrugged and gave another headshake.
"We're teaching you to talk and getting you caught up. Maybe that'll jog something loose. You're in the right group for a good meal ticket. Welcome to the club."
Hirsch sneezed hard enough to make his back plating split revealing a dormant set of grasping feelers at his shoulders.
Voltage groaned, "Hundreds of lines of code and he picked the one for that noise…but at least he's got something useful."
"Freaky tendrils like his auntie?" Cypress shot back.
"Yes."
"Of all the idiotic, pea-brained…"
"We had to make do, Ratch."
"Do you think I was sparked last week?" The medic snapped, "I knew you were all up to something. Just not the extent."
He sighed, "Voltage, that stunt you pulled in the arena shouldn't be possible."
"The more 'formers I have, the more I can do. And if I cannibalize the enemy and piggyback off of Cy's vitals…"
Cypress watched as mild horror flared in the old medic's optics. The transfer didn't hurt, it felt great. Carnage in, energy out.
An impression of her alt flickered across the bond wreathed in neon poison.
Cypress preened in her newfound usefulness, "It's fun."
"Kid, you ate Massicon internals like it was nothing. What happened to running from fights?"
"I found out Massicons taste like five-cheese lasagna."
And they did in a weird way, Massicons had layers of flavor.
Arcee cackled, "Think you can manage gutting one for sparks?"
Cypress nodded, "Anything is possible."
"And you upgraded them Arcee?"
"Used those nifty tanks from Eukaris satellite planet."
"How long?"
"A mega-cycle."
"Any side-effects?"
"None other than old wounds…"
"About that."
Cypress found her helm wrenched sideways and slammed into Sunstreaker's.
"OW!"
"Ratchet!"
"I'm surprised either of you felt that, hard helmed IDIOTS." Ratchet raged,
"Never again. Sunstreaker she's a third of your size and venomous. Cypress, that is a self-destructive spiral you can't recover from. Stop attacking higher-ranked 'formers."
"Raj is an ass though…OW!"
"Especially Spec Ops!"
Cypress rubbed the sting out of her audio.
"But there is a positive correlation if these charts are anything to go by." Ratchet loaded a holo of everyone's vitals portrayed as lines on an EKG monitor.
"This is the most stable your bond has been–ever."
"Oh."
It took a klik to fully embrace the peace… No screaming, no arguing, no elevator music, just companionable ambiance—annnddd the muffled death metal playing in the background.
"Speaking of–what does Mirage have to say about all this?"
Jazz shrugged, "Nothin'. Someone broke his olfactory. I'm working on a way around AXN Ops…"
"Those arent the only ones you need to watch for," Drift nodded to Voltage's insignias.
"This is different. You did your job too well. Megatron took note of you all. He has a special optic for fellow gladiators and loves a challenge."
~o~o~o~o~o~
Jazz was able to keep on a brave face up until Ratchet grabbed him. Slag.
Without a word, Jazz sat back on the exam table.
"You didn't try removing anything on your own?"
"Naw."
He let his primary helm plating get removed.
Ratchet disabled his Autobot-issued Ops software with a deft snatch of pliers. Jazz rolled to his knees and began returning the favor on the medic version of his software.
"Mirage does dirty processor work."
"Yeah. It's not so bad."
"You've dug yourself deep enough, don't lie."
Ratch patted his shoulder. The medic had subtly been searching for and disconnecting any underlying faction hardware 'former by 'former. A pile of still-warm wires surreptitiously tucked by his peds steadily grew.
Jazz leaned into the medic's caring ministrations.
"So about the compelling–"
"Ratch–I don't wanna talk about it."
"Any chance you could convince them to come here willingly?"
~o~o~o~o~o~
They gathered in the rec room and awkwardly circled around the destroyed couch.
"That couch has lasted ten vorns…who shot it up?"
Barricade raised a servo a wide smile splitting his faceplates, "I did you a favor."
Cypress had a different mission, however. She held out her sandstorm tarp to the assembled pets. Gasket took a deep whiff and Gidget followed. Both immediately rushed over to smother Hirsch. Flamewar jammed her snout in the sparkling's face from behind Cy's back sending Terri up onto her shoulders.
"Nuh-uh! Sit! Be gentle. You bite him, I bite you. Be kind to him. Hirsh, these are your guardians. Treat them as you would another 'former. They're here to guide you."
"They listen to you?" Chromia said, a note of genuine curiosity.
"Not a bit. They listen to their owners and the big one has a pathological desire to bite me. But they like kids."
'Mia hummed. "Sho! 'Mere."
The youngling looked just as enthusiastic to come over as Cy felt.
Scattershot shuffled from her corner of the room, ducking across until she was just out of grabbing distance.
Cypress made a stronger effort to slick her spines down. Little kids were one thing, insecure preteens were another beast entirely.
"This is Cypress. She's gonna introduce you to the pets."
Cy nodded and crouched to her level making a fist. "They need your scent first."
The whole pack swarmed her at once. One nano the black and blue femmling was standing, the next she was enveloped in a ball of metal.
Gasket and Flamewar got bored quickly, Gidget however…
The fox made herself at home on her lap.
"Is that okay?"
Scattershot relaxed a hair, "She's soft."
Hirsh finally peeled himself off her frame and went to Flamewar. The steeljaw was more interested in knocking him over to play. She wasn't much more than a sparkling herself.
Ratchet never let his optics leave them.
"They're not gonna eat him," Bee huffed.
"They're corpse eaters."
"Gidget and Gasket are tame."
Flamewar flashed by towing Hirsch behind her on a chunk of couch.
"Slow down, you'll make 'em purge!" Cypress yelled.
"You're both way too calm about this…" Voltage sighed, "Another grounder. You could have at least gotten another hybrid."
"Next time you find a custom sparkling. This is less work and no carrying time."
"You two are whack," Rager muttered.
"Captin on deck," Ironhide boomed.
"Hide…" Pax hissed.
"What? You still are."
Orion Pax shook his helm and took point at the center of the rec room, "Everyone here?"
Oil Slick came slinking in to join Lock and Arcee at the far rec room table.
"I see we have a few new faces. I would wager they arent unfamiliar to most of you…"
Jazz sucked his denta, "About that…I take full responsibility–"
"He was covering for me," Prowl interrupted, "We weren't confident in exposing such a sensitive, unstable, multi-'former situation."
Pax pinched his olfactory ridge, "Prowl, did you think I'd kick you out for turning into…"
"A Rubicon."
"A Rubicon. It sounds more like we have common enemies now." Orion turned to the rest of the group, "And you planned to keep this hidden as long as possible."
"The Dread aren't known for leaving witnesses. Unfortunately, you're in with us now." Jazz shrugged.
"It's no worse than starting a civil war and damming a planet. This is the ship of the dammed after all. I expect transparency from now on."
Bumblebee caught Hirsch as he passed by and held him to his chest, facing the crew, "This is Hirsch. He's a sparkeater and running from AXN Ops too."
'Mia stepped forward, "Chromia of Caminus." She nudged the black and blue sparkling before her.
"Scattershot…of Axiom Nexus."
Arcee waved to the group, "You already know me. Now you know the rest of the story."
Chromia side-eyed her, "All these vorns…How'd you survive this long?"
"The team…I was supposed to go down with Cybertron."
Oil Slick looked up, "Chemist. Occasional Decepticon. Off and on work with the Dread. I like Lockdown, he doesn't ask questions. Would any of you be interested in a clinical trial?"
"No. Shut up."
"Just because you reacted badly doesn't mean–"
Lockdown stood abruptly, "If you don't know me, you know of me. I'm off official contract at the moment. Waiting for confirmation."
"From my brother." Pax looked him over, "Exactly what did you do to make Megatron afraid of you?"
"That's a private matter."
Orion leaned the slight distance between their heights to get to Lock's level, "What isn't a private matter is how you behave on this ship. I don't care what tricks you gained from the Dread, your turf is Death's Head. Can I trust you to keep your word?"
"To a Prime, frag no." Lockdown spat, "But respect those two a hell of alot more. If they think you're trustworthy, it must be true."
A low pinging started from the corner of the room.
"Scattershot…" Mia whispered.
"I'm trying to turn it off!" the not-quite youngling whacked at her arm until the whole guard was lit with alarms.
"The Ark has a proximity alert, approaching ship. Autobot, friendly."
Ironhide frowned, "How'd you get in?"
Scattershot beamed, all nervousness forgotten. "Your security is ancient and Ark likes me."