Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun shown on a blistering hot desert of sand and rock. The sky was nearly cloudless, with only wisps of moisture to pass overhead, only to dissipate hours later. Almost everything was like this for miles and miles. The only thing that seemed to stand out was the sand twister that was steadily making it’s way across one of the dunes.

That and a strange red, white, and black decepticon seeker rushing out of it, with his arms splayed out as if he was imitating an airplane. As he was running, he let out a “WEEEEEEEEE!” and did a lap around the twister before going back inside. As if once wasn’t enough, the seeker came out again a few seconds later, making the exact same gesture with the exact same noise, lapping around the twister and disappearing into the twister.

On the third time the seeker made an attempt to leave the dust, a pair of hands jutted out of the twister after him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling the rambunctious seeker back into the swirling dust.

Inside the twister were two more seekers. The one with a cross look on his face, and pulled the first seeker back in with the rest of the group, had a purple and black color scheme. The other was more bulkier than the other two seekers, but could be identified as a conehead variant, with a tan and brown color scheme.

The conehead paused and watched as the purple seeker flipped the red seeker around and point aggressively at the seeker’s face.

“Stay! In! The cover!" He growled.

"But Hotlink, I'm booooooooored!" Redwing complained.

"Primus..." Sandstorm grumbled.

"Redwing, I don't care if you're bored,” Hotlink stated. “If we're spotted by any nearby bounty hunters, Sandstorm and I will die, and you won't have anyone to be weird around,"

Redwing thought about what Hotlink said beforehe let out a sigh of surrender. "Okay..." he groaned.

Hotlink let go of his trinemate and the three of them continued on their way.

"So, how far are we from the crash?" The conehead asked.

The purple seeker reached into his subspace and pulled out a scanner, giving it a look as they walked. "We're not that far," he reported. "Just over a couple more dunes, we should be able to see it."

"I want candy." Redwing blurted out.

Ohhh, Primus grant him patience... "You know what, Redwing? When we get to the ship, you can have all the candy on board," Hotlink granted.

Redwing gasped. "It will all be mine!"

"It suuure will…"

"So..." Sandstorm hesitated a bit before continuing. "Are we sure the ship is going to have the things we need?"

"This is going to sound sparkless," Hotlink started slowly, "but I'm only hoping something happened to the pilot, and that the ship is still working. I don’t care about the supplies, I just want to get us off this fragging planet."

"Speaking of, what does the ship look like?" Redwing asked.

"It's an Autobot ship,” Hotlink waved, “I could see the insignia on the wings."

Redwing paused, "Yes… But what does it look like?" He repeated.

Hotlink winced as he wracked his mind for a proper description. "I-I don't know! Big? It had the orange plating and the red Autobot insignia."

"Ohhhh!" Redwing said, rushing ahead of his trinemates and then pointing his finger beyond the disguise. "So like that ship there?"

Both Hotlink and Sandstorm gave each other a confusing look. Hotlink shrugged, and Sandstorm deactivated his turbines, allowing the makeshift twister to fade. And the two of them looked on in surprise as an autobot ship stood, nose first into a dune, and glimering in the sunlight.

"How... how did you see that??" Sandstorm asked.

Redwing turned and shrugged with a simple grin. "I don't know." he said.

"Look, it doesn't matter how he saw it," Hotlink decided, putting his scanner back into his subspace. "The point is we're here." He picked up the pace, and began to make his way to the downed ship.

Sandstorm glanced back to Redwing in confusion, who simply grinned broadly, and turned to follow Hotlink. Sandstorm sighed, and trudged his way after them.

----

The rear hatch was the only accessable way into the ship, and even it had trouble opening instantly. It opened slowly, grinding against any sand that got into the grooves.

Hotlink peered in once the door was open, giving a quick look down each of the nearby halls.. The inside was dark. Likely the ship had lost power in the crash, but he could see that the area was abandoned. Satisfied with this, He turned back and retreated back down to the ground below.

He landed next to Sandstorm, and re-adjusted himself as he rose back up. "Okay, we're in." He said.

"Cool. So, what do we do first?" Sandstorm asked.

"If you want to check the storage compartments, I can check the engine. Redwing, if you want to—" Hotlink trailed off as he looked around.

Sandstorm blinked and looked as well, and that’s when the realization set in. "Wha--Where did Redwing go??" He shouted.

"Dumbaft's probably already inside..." Hotlink mumbled bitterly. He turned back to Sandstorm and continued, "Check all the storage compartments. If you find Redwing, make sure he's not breaking anything." He turned back to the ship, and flew up to enter the hatch. Sandstorm followed and traversed down a different hall than the one Hotlink went down.

Sandstorm traveled down the hall, seeming to not see anything that caught his optics. He glanced down one last door, and found that a crate was just sitting in the center of the room. Curious, he went in and opened the crate, and began to drool at the sight of several energon cubes.

He reached in and pulled one out, drooling at it for a moment. He paused, and glanced out of the room. He grimaced, and placed it back into the crate and then left to check the rest of the ship.

--[elsewhere]--

Hotlink opened up a hatch and glanced inside. The pipes and turbine parts didn’t look in that bad of a condition. Pleased with this, he closed the hatch, and began to make his way back to the entrance. He saw Sandstorm was already waiting there, and he approached, "Anything?" he asked.

"Only a few days of energon and some spare parts." Sandstorm answered. "There isn't much else."

"Well, that's better than nothing."

"How are the engines?"

"They're in good enough condition," the engineer reported. "We can use them to get off the planet and find a way to lay low somewhere no one would find us."

Sandstorm nodded, but he gained a look of concern as he gains an unsettling thought. "You know, for an autobot ship this size, you would think there would be an autobot or two. But I haven't even found one survivor." He said.

Hotlink frowned. "That's a good point..." He brought a hand up to pinch his chin with his index finger and thumb, thinking for a moment before guessing, "Maybe they're all on the bridge. If this ship was going down, I would assume everyone would have been there to try and make the crash… bearable."

"So... check the bridge for survivors?"

Hotlink grimaced, and let out a hesitant, "Yeah…"

"And if we find any?" Sandstorm asked, hesitantly.

"...We dump them and take their ship..." It was a thought Hotlink really didn't want to linger on or he'd feel gnawing guilt about stranding Autobots in their situation. Instead he focused on the frustration he'd felt the past two years regarding what their red trinemate put them through. "I don't know why I let Redwing convince us that going to hide on this planet was a good idea, but it's high time we left."

Hotlink lead the way to the bridge. Sandstorm followed, and after a bit of walking, the two of them entered the command bridge of the ship. To the surprise, and not surprise, both of them found Redwing, laying on a control console and staring all googly eyed at someone who was slumped over in the pilot's seat.

"Oh," Sandstorm said, begrudgingly, "There you are."

"How long have you been here?" the engineer questioned.

"Shhhhhh!" Redwing hissed, bringing up a finger to his lips. Slowly, he pointed to the mech in the seat. "He's sleeping." He whispered.

Hotlink furrowed his optic ridges and moved to get a good look at who was in the pilot’s seat. He only got one look, and scrambling back a few paces with a panicked gasp, nearly falling in the process. There, slumped in the captain's chair, was a sight that would make most any Decepticon peon's oil freeze.

Rodimus Prime.

"What?" Sandstorm asked, confused at Hotlink's reaction. "What is it? Who is that?"

Hotlink spluttered for a bit, unable to believe that Sandstorm was entirely clueless as to the identity of this mech. He pointed to the Autobot rigidly and hissed, "How do you not know who that is?? Am I the only one who listens to the news??" He turned to Redwing, "You know who that is, right?"

"I don't know who Rodimus Prime is." Redwing smiled. "Tell me more.”

The purple seeker stared blankly and locked eyes with Redwing, trying to processed the teasing from the red moron. He watched in silence as Redwing pulled up a candy sucker and unwrapped it, and slowly stuck the candy in his mouth.

Pursing his lips, Hotlink turned once more to Sandstorm and explained, "That's Rodimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots. And I'm not talking about just the standard commander, no. He is THE leader of the Autobots. All of them. He is the one bot we do not want to mess with!"

Sandstorm glanced at the Autobot and thought for a moment. "Well... he's not moving. We could probably dump him before he wakes up?" He walked over to Rodimus and poked him a couple times to make sure.

The purple seeker hummed with reluctance. "I... I don't think... we should... If we dump him, he'll find a way to call his Autobots and we'll have that whole army on our wings on top of the Decepticon bounty hunters that are already chasing us. Maybe we can just... stowaway. Somehow…"

"Hotlink, hotlink hotlink hotlink hotlink, my boy." Redwing approached rather suddenly, interrupting the seeker's train of thought as Redwing wrapped an arm around him. "If I may add my own opinion. We have what I would like to call, an interesting position of negotiation power."

Hotlink fixed him with a confused yet suspicious look. "...Okay, I'm listening. Spill."

"So, picture." Redwing splayed his hands out and moved them around, like he was moving pictures around on an invisible display. "We have in our hands, as you have told us, the leader of the Autobots. We could tie him up and take his ship, and take him to Galvatron in the hopes we get pardoned by him and we'll still be decepticons. Or, we 'patch' Rodimus up as a gesture of good will in the hopes that he'll get us at least off the planet."

A soft, wheezy groan came from behind them. Rodimus was beginning to stir. Hotlink threw a glance at the Autobot leader, then looked to Sandstorm. He had a silent debate with himself for a moment. What was the best route for them to take that would secure Sandstorm's future? A life under Galvatron or...

...No. No, a life under Galvatron was no life at all. Not after he learned what that tyrant wanted with them. Over Hotlink's dead body was he ever going to make Sandstorm live the life that the purple seeker had been forced to live for over four million years. "Frag Galvatron," he muttered with conviction. "Let's try our chances with the Autobots.”

Sandstorm blinked, "Wait, we're not dumping him?"

"No. And don't say that when he comes to. Say nothing that would make him aggressive," the engineer ordered, moving to examine the Autobot leader. His spark pulsed frantically as he anticipated how the future would play out. At worst, Rodimus would kill them all. At best... he'd do something to help them. He knelt down in front of the red and orange mech and, with trembling hands, began to try and run some checks on him.

The touch finally pulled the Prime out of his temporary slumber, his optics flickering on and his hydraulics tensing. It was clear he was still unsteady, his venting patterns coming out ragged.

"Wh... Who...?"

"R... Rodimus Prime?" Hotlink tried.

The leader blinked a couple times and seemed to get a hold of his bearings a little. Enough to suddenly lunge forward with blinding speed, taking Hotlink by surprise, tackling him to the floor, and pinning him down.

"DOGPILE!" Redwing shouted, adding his own weight to the commotion by jumping up and belly-flopping onto the autobot leader.

Sandstorm gasped as he watched in horror as he saw the commotion that played out in front of him. "N-No!" He cried. "Wait!"

"A Decepticon ambush, huh?!" Rodimus snarled. "Typical...!"

"W-Wait wait!!" Hotlink stammered with panic, The weight Redwing added did little to ease his rising fear. "Please!! We surrender!!"

"You say that, but your friend just jumped on!" the Autobot rebutted.

"He's just being an idiot!! White flag!! White flag!!" he insistently cried, squeezing his optics shut and praying for them to get off.

Rodimus Prime paused as he stared down at the purple seeker. The fear radiating off this seeker was apparent. He threw a glare over his back at the red seeker and ordered, "You first. Off."

"I would love to!" Redwing smiled. "But I seem to be impaled on your fin. I can see it though my shoulder."

The Autobot huffed with disdain. "That's your own damn fault." He threw his next glare at Sandstorm. "Stay where you are," he commanded before proceeding to get to his feet, regardless of Redwing being stuck to him.

"Oooooooh! You're so strong!" Redwing admired. "Someone eats their veggies! Do you like broccoli, asparagus, or carrots? I like cotton candy flavored veggies."

"You're a real card," Rodimus replied sarcastically, flicking his shoulder to throw Redwing off.

Redwing flipped through the air and landed on his feet gracefully. He glanced at the group for a moment before he realized, "Oh wait, I'm supposed to fall down." He then collapsed to the ground, throwing his arms up as he fell to add a bit of drama to his ‘tumble’.

With them both off, Hotlink took a moment to take a few deep — though shuddering — breaths and collect himself.

"So... we're not fighting now?" Sandstorm whimpered.

Rodimus rolled his optics at Redwing before turning to Sandstorm and Hotlink and folding his arms. "Explain yourselves and we'll see."

Hotlink shakily sat up and shifted to sit on his legs, looking up at the leader. If he stayed small, maybe he would think they weren't a threat. "Um... I'm H-Hotlink... That red goof is Redwing... and this is our trinemate Sandstorm... We're on the run from Galvatron, sir..."

The Autobot cocked an optic ridge at them. "Runaways? Okay... You have my attention. Why are you running from him? Stupid question, I know, but indulge me."

"Because two of us look like Starscream!" Redwing declared. "And as such, I, STARSCREAM, Do not want to get blasted again."

Sandstorm tilted his head sideways at Redwing's statement. "What?"

Rodimus turned his head to look at Redwing. "...You said that really weird. But I get what you mean. Hold on a moment." The Autobot leader opened up his subspace with a bit of struggle. But, despite the struggle, he was able to open it. Once it was, he pulled out a cracked datapad and began flicking through its contents. "Damn thing..." he muttered as he tapped the side of the datapad with his palm. "Okay... Yeah, Hotlink, you're here... Yup, here's Redwing..." He squinted at the datapad and perused it quietly for a few moments before looking to the conehead again. "Sandstorm, was it?" he checked.

"Yeah?" Sandstorm began.

"There's no record of you.”

"He's a newborn," Hotlink explained. "Two years old. He was created the very day Galvatron gave the order to have us seekers hunted down."

The Autobot leader seemed to ease up some as he glanced from Hotlink to Sandstorm again. "That so?"

"Galvatron has an ego that was broken by Starsc— I mean, Me." Redwing added.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." The Prime put the datapad back into his subspace and shut it, looking thoughtful as he did so. "What you've said so far holds some merit, at least. But you're still established Decepticons."

The purple seeker leaned forward and bowed to the leader to the best of his ability. "Please, Rodimus, sir... I beg you... Redwing and I have criminal records, I know, but Sandstorm is innocent! I just want what's best for him! He deserves more than to be weighed down by the sins of the Decepticons! Please! Grant him protection! I'll do whatever you want!"

Rodimus blinked, taken aback by the request and groveling. "That's... an awfully selfless request." He turned to Redwing. "I know seekers operate in trines. So what about you? Do you share Hotlink's sentiment?"

"Criminals??" Redwing gasped. "I'm offended! I've only killed millions in my own attempts to offline myself! It's their fault for not getting out of the way." Redwing paused for a moment. "I... don't think that's much better now that I'm thinking about it..."

Sandstorm blinked at both Hotlink and Redwing. He then heard his internal engine rumble and brought his hand up to sooth it a little. "I... wouldn't mind some fuel. It's been a while since I had some."

Hotlink grimaced but didn't look up. Was now really the time to ask about fuel...? When they were trying to negotiate with the Prime?

Rodimus was unmoving for a moment, but then slowly he reopened his subspace and took out a decent-sized satchel. From within, he pulled out a small handful of goodies and held them out to the conehead in offering. "Like goodies?" he asked.

Sandstorm perked up. "I haven't had those in forever! The last time I had some was... When we ran out a year ago..." Sandstorm wilted a little and glanced at Hotlink. "Sorry Hotlink."

The purple seeker sat up and turned to look up at Sandstorm. "You needed the fuel. You don't need to apologize for that," he said gently.

"So I take it you guys have been running on scraps for a while now?" the Autobot leader asked.

"We've... struggled to find sufficient fuel since coming here," Hotlink admitted.

Rodimus' expression glazed over and turned grim as he remained silent for a few moments, his arm slowly sinking back to rest at his side. And then he sighed and motioned at Hotlink. "On your feet." Once the purple seeker was standing, he continued with, "Everyone raise your right arms to a ninety-degree angle and repeat after me."

Redwing's arm immediately shot up. "I solemnly declare that I will not sabotage our adventure intentionally!" His arm snapped, and fell where Rodimus's fin pierced it. He glanced down at it before smiling back at the Prime.

The Prime stared at Redwing for a second before saying, "You know what? Good enough." He then turned his attention back to Hotlink and Sandstorm. "Repeat: 'I denounce Galvatron and his cause.'"

"I denounce Galvatron and his cause," Hotlink and Sandstorm echoed firmly.

"I understand Galvatron's insanity and laugh at his stupidity!" Redwing added.

"Me too," Rodimus stated. "Right. We can all relax now. That was good enough for me. Sandstorm." He held out his hand full of goodies again. "All yours. You guys can share an actual cube in a moment."

Relieved that tense interaction ended on a positive note, Hotlink heaved a breath and shot Redwing and Sandstorm a smile.

Sandstorm snatched up the goodies and begun to munch on them.

Redwing knelt down, picked up his arm and began flopping it around. "So, what brings you all the way out to this little dirt planet? Saving some poor child from the Decepticons?"

Rodimus motioned for them to follow him and he began limping out of the room. "Well... We got word that Scourge was planning to attack a colony planet." He grimaced and placed a hand on his head, his vision acting up a bit. The adrenaline was wearing off and the concussion was setting in. "So since I was off world, Ultra Magnus let me know and I started heading that way..."

"So what happened?" Hotlink probed.

"Some... Something... I don't... Nngh..." The Autobot leader struggled with his words for a bit. "I don't know what happened... One minute I was on my way to the colony... And then... a flash of color out the view screen... And everything started going haywire..." He paused beside the storage compartment Sandstorm had explored earlier that held the energon rations within, resting his head against the wall and shutting his optics.

"Are you okay?" Sandstorm asked in between bites of his energon goodies.

"Someone needs to lay off the shooter games." Redwing poked the Autobot with a finger of his severed arm. "No screen time for you."

"I'll be fine... I just need a moment..."

"You're going to need more than that," Hotlink stated. "Considering you crashed spectacularly, I'm willing to bet you're working with a concussion. Which means rest."

Rodimus turned his head slightly and cracked an optic open to look at Hotlink blearily. "...What is it you specialize in again...?"

"I'm an engineer with self-taught medical skills. ...Actually, I'm just self-taught, period."

"Okay... Cubes are in there... Grab one and when we get to the next planet, I'll get some more supplies to support you all..."

Hotlink opened the storage unit and picked out an energon cube. "So how is this going to work, exactly? Our... dynamic?" he checked.

"Way I see it is, you need protection, and I hate Galvatron. As long as you guys turn out not to be jerks and help me out as I do my job, I'll do my utmost to keep you safe... Oh, and, um…” Rodimus straightened up a bit and turned to the trine. “Don’t... bow to me or anything...”

The purple seeker blinked with surprise. “But... you’re the Autobot leader,” he pointed out.

The autobot shook his head. “It’s not all that glorified. I’m just another bot. No more special than anyone else.”

That... didn’t make sense. Not when Hotlink was so used to the Decepticon high command considering themselves worth more than their foot soldiers. Quietly, he took a small sip of the cube before offering it to Sandstorm, who began to guzzle from the cube.

“I can sense some confusion. Allow me to clarify.” Redwing offered. “The decepticons love their shooties and punchies. As such, they live by ‘i am the strongest, listen to me and respect me’. Autobots on the other hand, are good with skills and brainwork, and work very well in groups.”

“Huh... Fascinating.” Hotlink let out.

“Kinda sucks that basic decency is a rarity among the Decepticons...” Rodimus muttered. “Alright, first thing we need to do is check the engines—“

“I’ve already taken the liberty to check those for you,” Hotlink interrupted. “They took a slight beating, but they’re otherwise fine for use.”

The Autobot blinked. “Oh. Cool. Um, then I guess we head back to the command deck and get this thing off the ground. That colony’s still in trouble.” He began limping back the way they came.

The purple seeker followed him and asked, “Shouldn’t you take a moment to rest?”

“No time,” the Prime grunted.

“Nope! I use my pretend authority to veto the Prime!” Redwing declared, picking up Rodimus by the waist with his only arm and slinging the Prime over his shoulder. “I am taking you straight to bed young man! Hotlink and Sandstorm are competent seekers. They can get the shop in the air while I get coordinates out of you.”

Rodimus yelped and propped himself up a little by pushing against Redwing’s back. “Whoa, hey!! Put me down; there’s no time for this!!” he protested loudly.

“Rodimus, if you want to actually help by the time we get there, you need to rest your body,” Hotlink reasoned. “How can you protect your people if you’re limping and concussed?”

The Autobot hesitated before grumbling to himself and giving up the coordinates.

Redwing smiled as the coordinates were given. “Master Hotlink, we have our heading! Mister Sandstorm, hoist the sails and get ready to make way. To adventure!”

“What are you talking about? What’s a sail? And what are these titles?” Sandstorm asked.

“As the cabin boy said, we have no time!” Redwing deflected. “And speaking of Cabin boy, time to put this child to bed.”

“Ignore him. Follow me, Sandstorm,” Hotlink ordered, heading back to the command deck.

“Not a child,” the Prime huffed.

Redwing chuckled. “Cute. Just an adorable thing a child would say.”

“Shut up,” Rodimus griped. “Either move or set me down. You’re shaking, I can feel it.”

“Oh, am I?” Redwing glanced down. “I didn’t even notice.” He began to guess his way to the Prime’s quarters.

Rodimus sighed and settled slightly, giving the red seeker directions to his quarters.

Sandstorm followed closely behind his trinemate. “So, what are we doing? And we’re really siding with an autobot? Aren’t they hostile towards us?”

“Everybody is hostile toward us, Sandstorm. If we can keep this Autobot as an ally, we’ll have less enemies. And to solidify this alliance, we’re going to help him.” Hotlink grimaced before saying softly, “Sandstorm, I... I meant what I said earlier... If this gets you a better life than Redwing and I have lived, then it’ll be worth it. A life dedicated to the Decepticons will just make you miserable. Trust me…”

Sandstorm thought about Hotlink’s words for a moment. “Is being a decepticon really that bad?”

The purple seeker was silent for a moment before he replied, “Sometimes... Sometimes I wonder what I would have been like if I had been created an Autobot... Decepticons don’t want you to make choices for yourself. They want silent obedience. Decepticons are supposed to obey orders and kill.” Hotlink locked optics with the newborn. “When I look at you... I can’t imagine you taking a life. Can you? Can you see yourself ending someone else’s life?”

“… no… I guess I don’t.” The newborn answered after some thought.

“You’re not like other coneheads, Sandstorm. You’re not like other seekers.” He paused, “...I’m going to present you with a choice. Because I sort of made it for you earlier, and that’s not entirely fair. If we turn in Rodimus to Galvatron, there’s no telling if he’ll accept us back into the Decepticon fold. And there’s no telling if he’ll order us killed again. Do you want to take a chance and serve under an insane tyrant who hates you? Or do you want to try sticking around this Autobot leader who has promised to protect us from Galvatron and his forces? Bear in mind, he has already done more for you than Galvatron has. He’s given you fuel and a promise.”

Sandstorm considered his options. "Well... the fuel is kinda nice…"

"Yes. So?"

Sandstorm hesitated before answering. Hotlink did have a point. The Autobot had done more to help them out than the other Decepticons have ever done. "I don't see why we can't stay with the Autobot." Sandstorm finally answered. "He seems okay."

Hotlink nodded. "So we're all in agreement then. Good. That'll be key as we work together to make decisions in future." Once they reached the command deck, Hotlink moved to the control console and began examining it. "These controls are a little different than I'm used to, but I think it's roughly the similar. Sandstorm, you're going to learn how to operate a spaceship."

Sandstorm paused again and glanced over the controls. "Is it complicated?"

"Kind of? There's just a lot of checks that go into making sure the craft is ready for flight before actually taking off. I think the checks are the more complicated things. I'll take care of those, so just watch what I do for right now."

Sandstorm nodded and watched Hotlink man the controls. From time to time, he would work on the controls when he would understand what he was doing.

After about five minutes, the ship was on and lifting into the air. The coordinates were put into the navigation system, and they were heading for the planet's atmosphere. Relieved, the purple seeker released a breath and said, "Say goodbye to this forsaken wasteland. We're on our way."

Redwing burst into the control center. "Guys! We have a problem! The ground outside is falling away from us!"

Sandstorm squinted at his trine mate. "Umm... yeah? that's what happens when ships begin to fly."

"Nooooo!" Redwing cried.

Hotlink rolled his optics. "Frag you and frag your sand planet. And good riddance. How's the Prime?"

"Complaining in his a room like a child does when he's in time out." Redwing answered, flopping down into a nearby chair.

"Why do you keep calling him a child?" Sandstorm asked.

"Oh, just a few mannerisms that keep popping up." Redwing answered.

"Redwing is older than he looks," Hotlink commented. "Brace yourself, we're going to be tearing through the atmosphere shortly."

Upon hearing Hotlink's warning, Redwing jumped out of his chair and began to stand on it, rather precariously. "Onward friends!" He cried. "The Universe awaits!"

The ship jostled and shook violently, and there was one great massive bump before everything calmed back down. And that bump was just enough to send Redwing flying off his chair and into the wall behind him.

"That's what you get," Hotlink declared, no pity for the red seeker and his act of stupidity.

"I don't want to be captain anymore." Redwing declared from his new position on the ground. "Hotlink, you can be captain."

"You never were captain! And hell no, I don't want to be captain!"

"Fine. Sandstorm, you can be captain."

"Wait, what??" Sandstorm gawked. "Why me??"

"I think he needs to learn a bit more before he can be captain," the purple seeker pointed out.

"Fine." Redwing sighed. "Then he can start by leading our trine."

"But guys!" Sandstorm protested. "I don't know how to lead a trine!"

"Sandstorm, I was a trine leader when I was a couple days old," Hotlink informed. "You'll learn. You'll probably have it easier than me."

"Oh... sure, I guess..." Sandstorm groaned, unsure of how to respond.

"YES!" Redwing shouted, getting back up to his feet. "I have no obligations anymore! I can do what I want!" He rushed out of the room and jumped up to get to the nearby vent and began to climb his way into the system.

"Get down from there, idiot!" Hotlink shouted.

"What's going on?"

The purple seeker jumped and whipped his head around to face the doorway that Rodimus was coming through. "Hey, you're supposed to be resting!"

"I can rest up here," the Prime huffed adamantly, taking the seat that Redwing had abandoned.

"Did he sneak out of time out?" Redwing's voice echoed through the vents. "You better get back into your room young man! Don't make me come out of the ceiling!"

Sandstorm brought his hands up to his face out of embarrassment.

"It's my ship!" Rodimus shouted back. "I'll rest where I want!" He then lowered his tone and said to the two seekers in the room, "Besides that, we've only just met. I'm sure I don't have to tell you why I can't leave you three to your own devices yet."

Hotlink bobbed his head side-to-side slightly in understanding. "You know what, that's understandable."

The roof of the room creaked for a second before giving way to Redwing, who landed on the debris with a solid thud. Once he realized what had just happened, he glanced up at everyone. "So... I just found out the roof doesn't have proper support. You might want to get that fixed."

The Prime stared at him tiredly for a moment before releasing a long sigh. "I'll make a note of it..."

"Can you just sit down and behave yourself for five minutes?!" Hotlink snapped. "You're the oldest one out of all of us, and Sandstorm's more mature than you!"

"I was trying to behave!" Redwing defended. "It's not my fault the ceiling isn't cooperating!"

"Maybe it would cooperate if you didn't use it as a crawlspace." Sandstorm suggested.

"Well that's just nonsense." Redwing huffed.

"So what do you specialize in, Redwing? Hotlink's said he's an engineer with medical dabbling. What about you?" Rodimus asked, leaning back in his seat.

"He's good at making himself look like an idiot." Sandstorm muttered.

Redwing paused and glanced up at the prime. He got up slowly without dropping his visual contact and dusted himself off. "Do you want the long answer or the short answer? Because I can give both."

"We've got a bit of a road trip before we reach the colony. Long answer me."

"Okay. Let's see, where to start..." Redwing thought for a bit. "Actually, let me tell my life story and let you figure it out." He cleared his throat. "Started out as a gladiator, that was okay. Thought I wanted to be a salesman, that was stupid. Got eaten by rust, twice, and was stuck in my own mind for... at least two, perhaps three years. Then I woke up, became a dad, and that was stupid on the first go. Then I became an adopted dad, and I'd say that's been going well so far. Hotlink hasn't left anyone for dead yet."

Rodimus tilted his head slightly and looked curiously from Redwing to Hotlink. "Adopted dad?"

Hotlink's expression strained. "Can... we not go into that?" he requested softly.

The Prime raised a hand in apology. "I'll respect your privacy. Sorry."

"Thanks..."

"So... Adaptability is what I would say your strength is," the Autobot summarized as he redirected his attention back to Redwing.

Redwing blinked as he held his breath for a second, then slowly let it out in defeat. "Yeah. Sure. Let's go with that."

"So then, Sandstorm, what about you?"

"Oh, uh, I uh..." Sandstorm continued to stutter for a few moments as he tried to think. "I, uh... make... sandstorms?" he shrugged.

"He's also the leader of our trine!" Redwing added.

"No I'm not!" Sandstorm protested. "I don't even know how to lead!"

"We agreed on it like, five minutes ago. What? are you two or something?" Redwing teased.

"Yes! I am two!" Sandstorm answered, exasperated.

"Boy, that's the story of my fragging life," Rodimus sighed.

Redwing gasped. "I knew it! He is a child!"

"He can't be a newborn!" Hotlink protested. Then he paused and glanced at the Autobot. "Erm... Right?"

"I'm not a newborn. But I..." Rodimus trailed off for a moment and cast a grim glance at the floor before muttering, "Nevermind... Don't worry about it. Did you three have anywhere you were planning to go?" the Autobot leader asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Being a broken character!" Redwing interrupted from out of nowhere. Everyone began to look at him with confusion, leaving silence in the room for a few seconds. "You asked what my specialty was. I didn't think adaptability was quite right, so I thought about it a bit more and decided that I'm good at being a broken character."

"...No, we don't have anywhere we wanted to go..." Sandstorm re-focusing back on the question.

Rodimus gave Redwing a slow nod while maintaining optic contact. "Something tells me that a few of us in this ship are broken characters.” He responded, following Redwing’s train of thought. “But you are definitely the most prominent."

"Naw, shucks!" Redwing cooed with a curtsy. "Aren't you just cute."

"I like to think I am."

Hotlink furrowed his optic ridges and glanced back and forth between the two. "...Are... Are you two flirting?" he asked suspiciously.

"No!" Redwing defended with a stomp on the ground. "You have no proof I am flirting and I am deeply disturbed that you would make such an accusation." He turned and began to march out the door. "I'm going to the kitchen and making a sugar sandwich!"

Sandstorm watched in confusion as his trine mate left the room again. "What? What just happened? Why is he acting, well, stranger than usual?"

"Because he was caught in the act and is definitely guilty," Hotlink put together.

The Prime raised an optic ridge. "He actually thinks I'm cute, huh?"

The purple seeker shot him a squint. "...You can't seriously be thinking about asking Redwing to be your conjunx at some point."

"Not my conjunx, no," Rodimus hurriedly denied. "Too soon for that. But I like to keep my options open."

Hotlink frowned with confusion. "A Prime like you doesn't have a partner already? Aren't Primes popular among the Autobots?"

Rodimus developed a bitter expression. "...Yeah. Well... My girlfriend dumped me for my friend. Guess she prefers green mechs over Primes." He shrugged and looked away. He obviously didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Sandstorm continued to glance between Rodimus and Hotlink, still confused at what's happening around him. He made a couple attempts to speak, but eventually he found his voice. "So... is there something we can do while we wait to get to where we're going?"

"There's... a window you can look out. Otherwise, I might have a few movies lingering around."

"M... Movies?" the purple seeker asked.

Rodimus turned his head to stare at Hotlink with nothing less than disbelief. He then shook his head and got to his feet. "That tears it. Stay here. I'm going to find some movies and you two are going to be educated in fun." Without waiting for a reply, he left the room.

Sandstorm watched as the Prime left. He then glanced at Hotlink. "I don't understand what's happening anymore."

"Neither do I," his trinemate admitted. "We'll just have to roll with the punches, as the saying goes."

"It's all going to be fine though, Right? We're not going to get betrayed, are we?"

"From what I've heard about Rodimus Prime, he's not the betraying type. He's worked with a Decepticon named Blitzwing in the past and let him go on his way. I think we'll be fine. I think he's still trying to figure out if we're going to betray his trust, though."

Sandstorm groaned as he put his head in his hands. "This is all so complicated…"

"Try to get used to it, because this is only going to get worse," Hotlink advised.

"That doesn't make me feel better…"

"Sorry. This life will be a good life for you. I guarantee it. It might take you a bit to get used to it, but you'll see." The newborn won't have to worry about the war. Won't have to worry about losing trinemates....As long as Hotlink didn't curse their venture... But he would do his utmost to get Sandstorm the type of life the purple seeker wished he had had from the start.

Chapter Text

“Slag,” Rodimus swore under his breath. He and his trine of seekers stood at the edge of a ravaged province on a planet neighboring Cybertron. Pillars of smoke rose toward the stars above as fires continued to burn, leaving further evidence behind of the attack that had taken place.

Sandstorm let his gaze drift around, taking in the carnage. Bodies of cybertronians, humans, and other aliens all lay scattered amidst the debris and flames. Dead. “We were too late,” he breathed softly, optics wide with horror.

“Scourge is probably long gone by now,” Hotlink noted as he, too, surveyed the scene.

“Everybody split up,” Rodimus ordered. “We’ll worry about Scourge later. Right now we need to check for survivors. Hotlink, in the air. Redwing, Sandstorm, on the ground with me.”

Hotlink frowned but still took to the air and sped off to begin the search. Redwing took hold of Rodimus’ arm and gave him a pesky smile.

“Can I search the ground with you with you?” he asked.

Sandstorm didn’t have it in him to react as he walked away from the eccentric. As he went, he heard Rodimus chastise Redwing a little before splitting with him to check a direction, leaving the red seeker to pout and go his own way.

The conehead scoured wreckage after wreckage of buildings and structures. Plenty of corpses to be seen, but no such luck in finding survivors. Sandstorm felt nauseated every time he discovered a body. Throwing a glance around, he caught sight of Rodimus in the distance pulling a body out of a wreckage and carefully lining it up beside others. The young seeker debated whether he should leave the bodies where he found them, but a sense of decency won him over, making him take extra time to pull the bodies into the open and line them up like the Prime was.

As he was working on clearing a sixth building that hadn’t entirely fallen, he swore he could hear something coming from further in. A high pitched… was that… wailing? Sandstorm furrowed his optic ridges and made his way deeper into the unstable structure. The noise was getting louder, signaling he was on the right track. And now that he was closer, it was much clearer that it was indeed sobbing. What was the source? He turned a corner to the back of the building and found a mound of rubble, a wall with a large hole through it leading outside, and a little human girl kneeling beside the mound. The source of the crying.

She appeared scratched up and bruised, but otherwise he couldn’t tell if anything else was wrong with her. Sandstorm slowly approached her. She must have heard his movements, because her bawling quieted a bit as she took her face out of her hands to look at him. The look of absolute terror he received from her made his spark churn uncomfortably.

“Stop!” she screamed through her tears, effectively making him comply. She scrambled to move behind the mound of debris. “Go away!”

“Wait, no.” He lowered himself to one knee. “N-No, no, no, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes, you will! You’re one of them!” she pointed to one of his wings. Or rather… the Decepticon insignia embellishing it.

A pit formed in his spark. The attacking Decepticons had definitely made a lasting impression. Just the symbol alone was enough to make her think he couldn’t be trusted. With a heavy spark, he raised a finger to the side of his head. “Rodimus, I found a survivor. I’m transmitting a beacon.”

“Copy that,” the Prime replied. “I’m on my way.”

The little girl lowered her hand and fixed him with a confused look. “R…Rodimus? Rodimus Prime?”

Sandstorm gave her a nod. “The leader of the Autobots, yeah.”

“Why… are you telling Rodimus where I am?”

“Because you need help, don’t you?”

The girl inched a little bit out from behind the mound to get a better look at him. “But you’re a…” She trailed off and eyed his wing again.

The young seeker shook his head. “I never got the chance to work for them. And after all I’ve seen from their actions, I don’t want to.” He watched the little girl think his answer over before she slowly moved back to where she was seated before. “What’s your name?”

The human sniffled and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “A…Alexis…”

Alexis. What a very… non-cybertronian name. “I’m Sandstorm. How old are you?”

“Ten. How old are you?”

“I just turned two.”

Alexis fixed him with a disbelieving squint. “Nuh uh.”

Sandstorm nodded with a smile. “It’s true. I haven’t been online for very long.”

“But you look like all the other adult robots.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They sat in silence for a minute, unsure how to continue. Eventually Alexis’ gaze drifted back to the mound. Sandstorm followed it and cringed when he saw a pool of blood seeping out from under it and a hand protruding from the bottom of the pile. The conehead hurriedly reached down to put his hand between her and the mound.

“Uh, let’s get you outside,” he muttered, setting his other hand down for her to climb into his palm. “It’s not safe in here.”

“But my dad and mom,” the girl croaked, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t leave them…”

“Rodimus will be here any second and he’ll help them,” he assured her, knowing full well that was a lie. “Okay? Come on. I don’t think your dad and mom want you staying in a dangerous place.”

Alexis hesitated, but moved into the seeker’s hand and had a seat.

Sandstorm carefully stood up, cupping the human in his hand as though she were made of glass, and scurried for the entrance. Every now and again the building shifted slightly, but they made it out safely to find Rodimus approaching in vehicle mode.

The Prime transformed when he got close and ran the rest of the way. “You’ve got the survivor?”

“Yeah,” the seeker confirmed, showing him the little girl seated in his hand.

Alexis leaned forward to look up at the leader pleadingly. “Rodimus, you have to help my mom and dad! They’re still inside!”

Rodimus gave her a firm nod. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get them.” As the Autobot started to go, he looked at Sandstorm’s face. The conehead hoped he caught the grimace that crossed it, because what Rodimus was going to find wasn’t what the little girl wanted. Five minutes later, Rodimus Prime came back out, carrying something in his hands. Sandstorm assumed it was the bodies of Alexis’ parents, because the leader had his hands cupped together so that whatever he was carrying was out of sight. The Autobot himself had a grim expression on his face as he looked to the tan seeker. “Sandstorm, you should take her back to the ship… The rest of us will keep searching and comm when we’re coming back.”

“Okay…”

Alexis appeared confused. “Wait, what about my parents? Where are they?”

“He’s got them, Alexis. Come on. I’ll show you our ship.”

“But I want to see them!” she protested, shifting in his hold as he turned his back to Rodimus. “Let me see them!”

“Alexis, later,” Sandstorm tried to soothe. “Do you wanna fly? Let’s go for a small flight, okay?”

“Go on, Alexis,” Rodimus pitched in from behind. “Sandstorm will take care of you.”

The little girl sniffed, fresh tears threatening to loose themselves from her eyes, but she held them back as best she could. “Okay… We can fly,” she relented.

The seeker’s spark tightened and ached with sympathy. This poor youngling had lost everything to Scourge and his troops because they’d been too late. He adjusted his hold on her to better brace her, then leapt into the air.

She watched as they flew over the terrorized city, taking it all in. “Was anyone else found?” she asked, shouting a little over the wind and the noise from his thrusters.

“Um… I don’t know. I only found you.” How did one break the news of mass death to a youngling? Sandstorm certainly didn’t know and he certainly didn’t want to be the one to do it. He became alert when the human suddenly squeaked and pointed at something in the distance.

“There’s another one…!”

The conehead squinted a bit at what she was pointing at. The familiar outline of a purple plane became briefly visible through the pillars of smoke, and he relaxed. “It’s okay, he’s with Rodimus, too. That’s Hotlink, my trinemate,” he explained. “There’s another one of us around, too, but he’s on the ground.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Just the four. Rodimus, Hotlink, Redwing, and me. And there’s our ship, just ahead.”

Alexis turned and looked around for it. “That small spaceship?”

“It’s cozy,” he agreed, “but we don’t need anything super grand when it’s just the four of us.” Sandstorm gracefully descended and lightly touched the ground in front of the ramp before making his way inside. Once inside, he paused and looked down at her, at a loss for what to do. “Uh… We don’t have anything a human needs here… Unless… Do humans drink energon?”

Alexis shook her head before craning her neck to look up at him. “No. Everyone says that energon is super bad for humans, so we shouldn’t drink it.”

“It’s a good thing you know that, because I sure didn’t. Let’s see… Um…” He stood in silence for a few moments, debating whether to comm Rodimus and ask for some directions. Eventually he decided against it and got moving again. “Here. We’ll go to my trine’s room and get you comfy.”

The little girl was silent as they went, seemingly taking in the scenery as they walked through the corridors of the ship. There was a look of worry that he caught on her facial features. Obviously still worrying about her guardians.

Sandstorm pleaded with Primus that she wouldn’t ask about them again. He wouldn’t be able to keep from telling her if she did. Once they reached the charging room, he set her down on his recharge slab and began looking around for something he could give her. Something human-sized. Something not metal. His gaze rested on one of Hotlink’s used oil rags. Perhaps there was a clean one around somewhere. The conehead muttered to himself as he rummaged through his trinemate’s effects for a rag to borrow. After a few minutes of searching, he found a rag that didn’t look like it had been used much, and it didn’t reek of oil, so it would have to do.

He returned to Alexis and folded the rag once length-wise before wrapping it around her. “Here. Sorry if it feels weird or smells,” he apologized. “It was the cleanest I could find.”

Alexis shifted within it, but settled down, so it must not have been so bad. “It’s okay,” she murmured quietly. “Thank you, Sandstorm.”

“You’re welcome. Are you hurt badly? Those look like nasty scrapes for a human.”

“They sting a lot,” she admitted, wincing as she got the urge to touch one and acted upon it. “And my body aches… And I have a headache…”

Sandstorm fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably. He really hoped those weren’t human signs that meant she was dying. “Ah… When Rodimus gets back, we’ll try to fix that. …I’m sorry, I’m not any help… You’re actually my first real encounter with a human.”

Alexis didn’t respond for a moment, then slowly said, “Sandstorm…? Why… didn’t Rodimus Prime let me see them…?”

Sandstorm grimaced and found it hard to meet her eyes. He couldn’t lie to her about this…

She took his silence and seemed to piece the facts together herself. She lowered her head so Sandstorm could no longer see her expression. But he didn’t need to see it to know she was in pain. Her tears started softly, then gradually escalated to full blown sobbing, a quieter version of what made it possible for Sandstorm to find her in the first place. She raised a section of the rag up to her face, muffling the sound of her mourning.

The conehead’s spark fell. He hated this. He hated that he couldn’t help her feel better. He hated that he couldn’t have been there to save her guardians and the rest of the city from their fate. And he wished he could do something—anything—to put an end to this little child’s tears and to bring a smile to her face. But if there was something he could do, it didn’t come to mind. He sat down on the station beside her and stared down at his feet, waiting for Rodimus or his trinemates and hoping they comm’d soon.

Sandstorm wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sound of the rag shifting and the sobbing quieting to sniffling broke him from his blank staring and he turned his head to look. Alexis had moved to a lying down position while still bundled up in the rag. Tears stained her cheeks and her eyes appeared to have turned a reddish shade. And there was a different liquid that appeared to be leaking from her nose that Sandstorm wasn’t familiar with. Perhaps another human body mechanism that displayed their sadness? He continued to keep an optic on her as she closed her eyes and settled down again.

“Alexis?” he checked.

“My head hurts worse…” she croaked. “I’m tired…”

Sandstorm felt himself starting to panic. That sounded really bad. “H-Hang on, I’ll check with Rodimus,” he stammered, hurriedly opening the comm channel with him. “Rodimus? Alexis says she has a bad headache and she’s tired. And earlier she said her body aches. Wh-What does that mean?”

“Sounds to me like she needs sleep,” the Autobot stated. “What has she been doing since you got to the ship?”

“Crying…”

“Yeah, sleep and water. She’ll be alright, Sandstorm. Just tell her to try and get some rest and I’ll see if I can find some supplies for her while I’m out here.”

“Has there been any more found?”

“I’m not finding any survivors,” the Prime reported, “but I’m not seeing as many bodies as I would have thought. I’m hoping some of the population managed to become refugees and make it to a neighboring city.”

“Do you need me to come back out?” Sandstorm offered.

“No, right now I want you with that little girl. She needs someone to keep her safe just in case there’s something amiss.”

“Okay. Stay safe.” Sandstorm ended the call and turned his attention back to Alexis. “He says you should get some sleep. It makes sense, you’ve had a long day. We’ll get you some help when you wake up.”

The human child sniffed and nuzzled her head further into the rag. “M’kay…” she whispered. A pause fell between them, during which the conehead thought she had fallen asleep, but it was interrupted by her whispering again. “Sandstorm…?”

He leaned a little closer to her. “Yeah?”

“You’re a really nice Decepticon… Thank you…”

The conehead smiled gently and reached a hand down to rub her side with a soothing thumb. “It’s the least I can do. Go to sleep, Alexis. We’ll talk more later.”

The girl hummed her acknowledgement before falling silent again, save for her breathing. After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and gave the young seeker the impression that she had truly fallen asleep this time. He left his hand over her, feeling the expanse and fall of her lungs. She was so small… She felt so frail… And yet she had survived where others with more mature and even metal bodies had fallen. Sandstorm wanted to make sure she stayed protected from the dangers of the universe. So that she didn’t wind up like the countless bodies lying on the ground outside.

The silence was interrupted once more when Sandstorm’s trinemates chimed in through comms.

“I’m not seeing anything from the air,” Hotlink reported. “It’s been several hours, Rodimus. I’m calling it quits and heading back to the ship.”

“All I see is a sea of fire, broken things, and dead people. So of course we’re going to find someone alive. It’s practically a life code,” Redwing crooned.

“I’m going to believe that isn’t a jab at my optimism and inform you that—in fact—Sandstorm found someone and they’re already back at the ship,” Rodimus shot back. “So there.”

“Aha! See? I told you!”

“Shut up, Redwing,” Hotlink scoffed.

“You two go ahead. I’ve got a little more searching to do,” Rodimus decided.

“Sandstorm, you’re awfully quiet. Turbofox got your tongue?” Redwing teased.

Sandstorm rolled his optics and replied softly, “Just be quiet when you get back. The little human I found is asleep and needs to stay that way for a while. She’s in our room.”

“Ooh, a little human girl, you say?”

The conehead could practically hear the stupid grin his trinemate was sporting. “Redwing,” Sandstorm growled warningly.

“I promise I will not clang all the metal in the world in her presence!”

Hotlink sighed heavily. “We’ll be quiet, Sandstorm,” he promised.

“Oh, and don’t forget, Sandstorm, I’m Starscream. You keep calling me the wrong name.”

Sandstorm gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to yell at him furiously.

The comms closed, and ten minutes later his trinemates walked in the room.

“So where is the darling little thing?” Redwing queried, barely whispering.

The conehead nodded to the rag underneath his hand that held the child, which prompted his trinemates to get closer and lean in to have a look.

Hotlink looked curious. “A human, huh?”

“An adorable human, Hotlink,” Redwing corrected. “Look at this precious youngling!”

“Found her in an unstable building crying next to a pile of slabs and debris,” Sandstorm explained. “Her… guardians were crushed underneath.”

Redwing gasped and brought his hands up to cup his cheeks dramatically. The gesture utterly annoyed the conehead. Redwing was always pulling this sort of inappropriate behavior at the worst of times. It really make it feel like the eccentric didn’t care about a darn thing that was happening.

Hotlink raised his optic ridges, then blew out a slow puff of air. “Slag. Rough to go through this at such a young age.”

“What do you think we’re gonna do with her?” Sandstorm asked. “Has this happened before?”

“Have we rescued humans before?” Hotlink clarified. “Not really. At least I haven’t, and I know slag well Redwing hasn’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Redwing argued.

“Yes I do. Anyway, I have no clue what to do with a human. Take her to the nearest city and leave her at a medical building? The other humans can figure out what to do with her,” Hotlink shrugged.

That didn’t sit right with Sandstorm in the slightest. “We can’t do that!” he protested quietly. “We can’t just leave her in a city she doesn’t know with strangers!”

“But she’ll be with her own kind.”

“Would you want someone to drop you off with bots you didn’t know if you were hurt?” the conehead challenged.

Hotlink folded his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“We could always take her with us,” Redwing proposed.

Hotlink denied the idea outright. “No, we can’t.”

But that idea sparked something in Sandstorm’s mind. “Why not?” he asked.

Redwing’s expression brightened, pleased to have someone taking the time to think over his suggestion, while Hotlink furrowed his optic ridges at the conehead. “Sandstorm, we don’t have the supplies or the knowledge to properly care for a human. Plus our journey is dangerous. Or have you forgotten just why we’re traveling around in the first place?”

“Actually,” Sandstorm argued, “I think the safest place for her is on this ship. At least she’ll be around people she trusts. And Rodimus seems to have knowledge about human stuff.”

His trinemate stared at him directly in the optics for a few moments, then he placed a hand on Sandstorm’s shoulder. “I get what this is about. You feel guilty.” Hotlink nodded with understanding when Sandstorm looked away. “Yeah. I get it. But you have to take a step back and think about this rationally. Okay? If we take this human with us because we didn’t stop the Decepticons in time, then we’ll have to start doing the same for anyone else we find who’s suffered like this.”

Sandstorm fixed him with a dirty squint. “Oh, shove off.”

“And besides,” Hotlink continued, removing his hand from Sandstorm’s shoulder, “what if she has family besides her creators somewhere? We can’t keep her from them.”

“Then I’ll ask her when she wakes up,” he replied cooly.

“If we keep her, we should build her a little den to sleep in,” Redwing cut in, oblivious to the debate trinemates were having. “Ooh, I should figure out how to make her different plating choices! What’s the word for human plating? I can’t remember.”

Hotlink sighed and shook his head. “Ask Rodimus.”

“Does she have a name, Sandstorm?” Redwing asked, flitting his wings excitedly.

“Alexis.”

“I love it! She’s so cute, I could pinch her!”

Sandstorm shot him a distrusting look. “You’re not allowed to touch her,” he stated firmly, killing Redwing’s mood abruptly.

“Aw!”

The three of them all froze in place and moved their attention to the little girl when she shifted within the rag. She yawned and adjusted her position, but otherwise continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the three robots bickering just over her.

“I’m on my way back,” came Rodimus over the comms. “I think Alexis is the only survivor still here. I managed to find some supplies for her, Sandstorm. How’s she doing?”

“Sound asleep,” Sandstorm answered. “We’ve got to talk when you get back.”

“About her?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” the Autobot agreed. “See you in fifteen.”

“Well, I’ve said my piece,” Hotlink said. “If Rodimus winds up letting you keep her, then alright. But just keep what I said in mind.” With that, he turned and left the room.

“Such a killjoy,” Redwing dismissed. “We’ll be excellent caretakers. I’ll go watch for Roddy.”

Sandstorm watched him leave, then looked down at the human once more. Of course Hotlink had raised some fair points, but Sandstorm just didn’t feel right about dropping her off. If she had family, that was one thing, but if she had no one else to care for her, then there was no way he could make himself leave her with strangers, no matter how dangerous their journey was. He would feel much better having her with them than practically on her own.

Fifteen minutes passed and Rodimus Prime entered the room. “Oh. That was some good thinking, Sandstorm,” he praised softly, gesturing to the makeshift blanket the young seeker had supplied Alexis.

Sandstorm rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “Thanks. So… I was wondering… What are we going to do with her?”

Rodimus walked over to the table next to Sandstorm’s recharge station and began reaching into his subspace to set a few found supplies down on it. “Well, I figured we’d take her to the next city over, get her some medical aid, and find out if she has any family to stay with. If not, I was going to leave it up to the humans to figure out where she goes. They’ve got places for orphaned children to stay while they search for new parents.”

Sandstorm frowned. “You would entrust her to that system? That seems like a suspicious system to me. She’d be miserable there.”

The Prime paused and met the conehead’s gaze. “It’s not a fun one, I’ll grant you. But what other option do we have?”

“We can take her with us,” the conehead stated.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Rodimus said, leaning against the table with a hand flat on its surface. “Instead of putting her in a place to be put up for adoption… you want to adopt her straight up.”

“Yes.”

Rodimus hesitated. “Well…”

“I know it’s dangerous, but if she doesn’t have family to go to, I really don’t want to leave her with nobody she knows,” Sandstorm explained. “She would be miserable. She likes us and I would feel better having her here. You know human stuff, right? You could teach me and I would take care of her.” When Rodimus Prime remained silent, he gave him a pleading expression. “Please, Rodimus. I try not to ask for a lot, but this really means something to me. I want to help her.”

“What do your trinemates think?”

“Redwing wants to keep her. Hotlink doesn’t like the idea but won’t insist if you agree to let her stay.”

“That’s a big responsibility you’re taking on,” the Autobot pointed out. “You’re only a newborn yourself.”

“I know,” Sandstorm acknowledged. “That doesn’t change anything.”

Rodimus bobbed his head from side to side a few times as he thought about it before finally reaching a decision. “If she doesn’t have any family and you’re sure you can handle it, then go ahead and ask her,” he agreed. “I’ll teach you guys what I know and we’ll share the responsibility. But you’re the main person who’s responsible for her health, safety, and happiness. Got that?”

Sandstorm perked up and beamed at him. “Of course! Thanks so much, Rodimus!” The conehead smiled down at the little girl happily. He couldn’t wait to hear her answer.

[Time Skip]

It wasn’t until the next morning that Alexis awoke. By that time, the team had already moved their ship over to the next city and parked it for the night so they could collect information and more supplies. Sandstorm was seated on the floor just in front of his recharge station, reading through a book about humans Rodimus had bought him. He wasn’t aware that Alexis had woken up until she said his name. He promptly set the book down and turned to face her with a warm smile.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Alexis nodded and rubbed one of her eyes to get the sleep out of it. “Mhm. The bed was kind of hard, but the blanket was warm.” She caught sight of a fresh bandage on her arm and suddenly began examining herself. “You gave me bandaids?” she asked with surprise.

“You were so tired, you slept right through us bringing in a doctor to treat your injuries,” Sandstorm said. “Do you still ache?”

The little girl had to think about it. “A little, but I think it’s because of the bed.”

The conehead chuckled. “We can fix that. Which brings me to my next question, actually.” He paused when Alexis cocked a curious brow at him, then he continued. “Do you have any family you can live with?”

She shook her head sadly. “No…”

“Then I have an offer for you. Want to come with us?”

The girl blinked and widened her eyes. “I can come with you and Rodimus?”

“Sure!” Sandstorm chirped enthusiastically. “I already asked him and he said he’s okay with it.” The look of pure excitement that he received made his spark soar.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d love to!” she cheered, beaming at him. “You and Rodimus will take care of me?”

“Absolutely! But Rodimus is pretty busy, so he’s leaving most of your care to me. I hope that’s all right.”

Alexis crawled over to the side of the recharge slab and extended her arms toward him, making the conehead lean in out of curiosity. She then gave his head as big a hug as she could muster. “Thank you, Sandstorm! You’re the best Decepticon ever!”

He chuckled and raised a hand to cup her back in return. “Thanks, Alexis. I certainly try my best. I hope I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Alexis assured. “You’re my hero, and heroes don’t let people down.”

Sandstorm couldn’t help but have mixed feelings about what she just said, but it was the sentiment that counted. She meant well. She called him a ‘hero’, after all! What was so bad about that?

Nothing at all.

[Perspective Change]

The Autobot leader heaved a breath as he set the last of the recently bought supply of energon within storage. That would last them for a while. He’d gotten quite a lot, given his own snacking habits and the fact that Sandstorm was a model of seeker that consumed a bit more fuel than the average model. With his arms now free, Rodimus opened up his subspace and pulled out a little bag, where a small assortment of human food was stored within. Whether they were keeping her or turning her over to someone else, Alexis still needed breakfast.

Moving further into the ship, the Autobot headed straight for the seekers’ room and entered. It seemed the child was awake and getting along fine with the conehead. The two of them were talking and smiling at each other. “You kids getting along?” the Prime asked with a smile of his own as he approached them.

Sandstorm and Alexis turned to face him, and the little girl practically glowing with delight. “Mr. Rodimus Prime! Sandstorm says I can stay with you all!” she exclaimed. “I can, right?”

“Of course you can, kiddo,” Rodimus granted, setting the small bag down on the charging unit for her as she cheered.

“What’s that?” Alexis asked curiously, grabbing the bag and opening it to peer inside. “Is this for me?” she checked, looking up at him with hope.

“All yours,” the Prime confirmed with a nod. He and Sandstorm watched with amusement as the little girl snatched at the food inside and dung in. “So have we decided on titles?” he asked the two younglings.

“Titles?” Sandstorm echoed with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what is she going to call you?” Rodimus elaborated. “Dad? Father? Pops?”

“I’ve arready goh a dad,” Alexis said through a mouthful of food. She then took a moment to swallow before continuing. “And I don’t like the sound of those other ones.” She hummed as she thought her options over and then eventually decided, “I guess Daddy would be okay.”

“So instead of Sandstorm, you’ll call me Daddy?” the conehead checked. “Is there some sort of special meaning to that?”

“Yeah, it means you’re my new parent,” Alexis explained. “Like, you take care of me and keep me safe.”

“Oh. I need a title for that?”

“Consider it an official recognition that you’ve adopted Alexis,” the Autobot leader put another way.

Sandstorm made a noise of realization and nodded.

The Prime let his gaze wander to the book Sandstorm had set down, then snapped his fingers. “Though that reminds me… I’ve got a call I need to make,” he announced, heading for the door again.

“Okay. Thanks for the food, Mr. Rodimus Prime!” Alexis called after him.

Rodimus waved a hand and told her, “Just Rodimus is fine, kiddo. You’re welcome.”

Behind him, he heard the two younglings begin to talk more, this time about the food Rodimus had delivered to the little girl. And then he suddenly noticed Redwing was down the hall from him and quickly rushing toward.

“I REMEMBERED THE NAME!” the red seeker screeched obnoxiously, barreling past Rodimus as the Prime barely jumped out of the way in time. “’CLOTHES’!” he declared just as loudly as he barged into the charging room and startled those inside.

Rodimus stared after him with utter confusion for a split second before he shook his head and continued walking. He didn’t stop until he reached the flight deck. At which point he went over to the console, pressed a few buttons, and began a call. The Autobot leader waited patiently as he waited for his contact to pick up, and then he perked up as a blonde woman’s picture came on the viewscreen. “Carly.”

“Rodimus,” Carly greeted. “Daniel will be glad to know you’re safe. Did you reach the colony?”

“Not on time, unfortunately,” the Prime mumbled. “Had a bit of an accident on my way.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth. “They’re… Surely they’re not all dead…?” she breathed.

“No,” the Autobot confirmed. “There were some refugees that made it to neighboring cities, fortunately. But that’s actually what I’m calling you about. See, my crew and I picked up—”

“’Crew’?” Carly interrupted. “Rodimus, you went out alone. What ‘crew’ are you talking about?”

The Prime realized he’d need to start back farther. “Ah… Okay, so, after my accident, I found a trine of seekers on the run from Galvatron and decided they were trustworthy enough for a lift.”

“Somehow,” the blonde said slowly, “I think it’s less about how you find them trustworthy and more about how much you want to spite your nemesis.”

“Hey, as much as I hate Galvatron, these three have actually been a good group,” Rodimus defended. “One of them is too young to be a war criminal and the other two are just focused on making sure it stays that way.”

Carly sighed and shook her head, silent for a second before she spoke up again. “What are their names?”

“Redwing, Hotlink, and Sandstorm.”

“I’ll run them by Ultra Magnus for you,” she informed. “But you can’t blame me if he throws a cow.”

“That’s fine.”

“Anyway… What’s this about a refugee?” Carly asked.

Rodimus nodded and recounted, “Sandstorm found a girl left behind in the broken city. Her parents were crushed under some fallen debris.”

“Poor thing…” the woman cooed sympathetically. “What’s her name?”

“Alexis. Sandstorm didn’t want to leave her to the adoption system. She’s about ten. I’m letting him adopt her under the strict understanding that this isn’t an easy task and he needs to be seriously responsible for her well-being,” the Prime reported.

Carly fixed him with a firm look and scoffed. “You’re leaving the education of a ten-year-old to a Decepticon that’s too young to be involved in the war? Think again, Rodimus.”

“I wasn’t!” the Autobot protested. “That’s why I was calling you!”

“I can’t do it either, Rodimus,” she went on. “That responsibility falls on you.”

Rodimus pouted. “Why do you assume I’m trying to pawn off the responsibility?” he muttered under his breath before saying, “Yes, fine, send me the curriculum and I’ll teach it to them both.”

“Certainly. And I want regular reports so I know how her education and upbringing are coming along,” the woman requested.

“Yes, Carly.”

“You make sure that little girl is treated properly, Rodimus,” the blonde stated firmly. “I mean it.”

“Carly,” Rodimus huffed impatiently. “Did I or did I not help you look after Daniel?”

The mother at least had the decency to look abashed. “I’m sorry… You’re right. You wouldn’t dare neglect a child. I know that. Are you coming home any time soon?”

“I’m going to patrol through a few more planets as I make my way back,” the Prime answered. “It may be a while before I make it back. Just a fair warning.”

“Okay. I’ll let Daniel know.”

“Thanks, Carly. Give him a hug for me.”

“Be safe, Rodimus,” the woman bade before ending the call.

“In this era?” the Autobot leader sighed and shook his head before turning and heading for the outside again. He needed to get groceries while he waited for the schooling lessons.

[Time Jump]

The next day had had a particularly busy start. Particularly for Redwing. So much so that he hadn’t been seen by his trinemates for most of the day. He had been busy scouting the city, looking around for the various arts and things of entertainment the place had to offer. There was a concert stage that looked especially appealing and it seemed like there would be a concert playing in a couple days time. Maybe he could get his trine in. To show the culturally starved heathens what art and fun looked like.

Satisfied with his scouting, the red seeker called it a day as soon as the sun was setting and he began heading back to the ship. On the way, he bumped into Sandstorm and Alexis and continued home with them. Redwing was soon aboard the ship, where they met up with their final trinemate, and entering the charging room with them. He blinked as he noticed something wrapped in colored paper and ribbon, sharing the red seeker’s color scheme, sitting on his recharge slab. “Ooh! For meee?? Don’t mind if I yes!” He skipped over and picked it up. “So which one of you got it for me??”

“It wasn’t me,” Hotlink denied. “I was giving Heartburn and Heatstroke tune-ups all day.”

Redwing turned with a curtsy. “Sandstorm, you shouldn’t have~"

“Uh, it wasn’t me, either,” Sandstorm declared.

“We were out getting more books and food,” Alexis informed from her spot on Sandstorm’s shoulder.

Redwing paused and developed a concerned expression on his face. “But… that leaves— “

“Your boyfriend, yes,” Hotlink nodded.

Redwing flapped his hand around. “We’re not anything official!” he declared. “For the record! He’s messing with all of us! Me especially!”

“For spark’s sake…” Sandstorm muttered. “You started it…”

Alexis leaned forward a bit in an attempt to get a better look. “So what’s in it?”

“Hm,” Redwing hummed, musing over what it could be. “Perhaps… some sex toys just to mess with me. I bet it’s something like that. Yes…"

“We have children in the room!” Sandstorm chided frantically.

Redwing waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve already covered this topic. It’s fine.”

“You should open it!” Alexis said, bouncing a little. “I want to see!”

“Primus,” Sandstorm muttered, “if it actually is…" He bit his lower lip nervously, praying it wasn’t something erotic for Alexis to see. And himself, for that matter…

Redwing continued to examine the shape of the package a bit more, then unwrapped it. Inside was a video cassette with a collection of black-and-white human shows, some slapstick comedy, some rom-coms, and other dramas. He held it up curiously. “This isn’t sex toys at all,” he stated.

To which Sandstorm let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, a video tape!” Alexis stated, pointing with excitement.

“Lots of videos, it looks like,” Redwing confirmed, looking the video cassette over. He then looked at the note hidden in the wrapping paper. “Oh, there’s a note here, too.” He moved to grab it and read, but Hotlink hurriedly snatched it and moved away from him.

“Hey!!” the red seeker protested, rushing after his trinemate and trying to grab it back. “That’s mine! Get your own note!”

Hotlink moved about the room, evading Redwing, and began reading. “’I was thinking back on—’ Stop it. ‘—on my days spent on Earth with my buddy Daniel. We’d watch the shows with slapstick in them. And whenever Daniel was sent to bed, Carly would ask me if I wanted to watch some of her favorite shows. Those are the rom-coms and cost—’ Ow, my wing!”

“Give it!!” Redwing demanded as he tugged on the wing in his grip. “Gimme gimme gimme now!!”

Hotlink ignored Redwing and, despite his wing being pulled on, continued. “‘—costume dramas. I’m taking a wild stab in the dark with these, but I was hoping you’d like something on here. And—’ Ooh, this is promising! ‘—I was also hoping that you’d watch them with me. Some of the characters kind of remind me of you. That’s a good thing, by the way.’ Daw~”

At that moment, Redwing pounced on him, sending both of them crashing to the floor.

“OW, MOTHER OF PRIMUS!!” Hotlink yelled.

Redwing somehow managed to snatch the note back with a victory shout and promptly gave Hotlink’s head a small bap with his fist. He didn’t move off of him, keeping him pinned to the floor. “Next time YOU get a letter, I’m stealing it and reading it to the class, too! And then I get to keep it!”

“That’s not fair!” Hotlink complained with a grunt. “I was going to give it back!”

“Tough tacos!” Redwing got off of him, allowing them both to get back to their feet.

“So are you going to?” Alexis asked once the two were up.

Redwing turned to her. “Going to what?”

“Going to watch movies with Rodimus!” she reminded with a smile. “He wants to watch with you.”

“Probably just the two of you all cuddled up close,” Sandstorm teased.

Redwing twitched his wings, the thought of them together making him nervous, and with his two trinemates teasing him, it felt a little embarrassing. “Now you stop with those ridiculous ideas!” he ordered. “He’s too young for me!”

Alexis drooped a little, looking disappointed at what Redwing just said. “Oh. So you don’t want his gift?"

Redwing winced. “I never said that, kid. He’s got me curious about these shows. I’ll give them a look. Right now, in fact, before they get snatched, too.” He shot Hotlink a glare, only to get a tongue stuck out at him in return. Redwing then promptly returned the gesture and scurried out of the room.

The child turned towards Hotlink with a look of concern on her face. “He’s not going to watch with Rodimus, is he?”

Hotlink snickered mischievously. “In his haste to get out of here, I forgot to mention to him that Rodimus is passed out in the captain’s chair. In the only room onboard this ship that can play that thing.” He smirked as Sandstorm and Alexis burst into giggles.

[Time Jump]

The concert was a sight to see. Everyone was having a good time and enjoying themselves, despite the three looming seekers standing around with their adopted human girl. The trine seemed to reveling in the atmosphere of the event, so were permitted to stay as long as they didn’t cause any trouble. It was an exciting and new experience for most of the group members. Redwing danced like a fool, thoroughly amusing anyone that cast a look his way. Alexis was shimmying and bouncing along to the music from atop Sandstorm’s shoulder. The conehead simply nodded and bobbed his head to the beat and watched his daughter enjoy herself. Hotlink wasn’t moving, but he was watching the performers intently, taking in all the visuals as he paid special attention to the composition of the music.

By the time the concert was over, the seekers were walking away. Hotlink and Sandstorm were both discussing how good the concert was, what they liked about it, what Hotlink had noted, and Alexis jumped in with what cool things she particularly liked about the show from time to time.

“Psh. That’s nothing,” Redwing interrupted with a broad grin. “Remember when I danced on stage that one time, Hotlink?”

“You broke your legs the moment you walked off stage,” the purple seeker recalled.

“So?” Redwing asked. “I’m still walking around.”

Sandstorm paused to look at the red seeker. “Wait, did you get them fixed?” he asked.

“Yep,” Redwing declared with a suspicious amount of pep. He then noticed Hotlink staring. “What?” he asked.

“When did you get them fixed?” Hotlink demanded. “I’ve been with you this whole time and you never asked me to fix them.”

All Redwing did was smile.

“Redwing?” the engineer persisted. “Did you swap them out?”

The red seeker continued to stay silent as his smile broadened.

“Have you been walking on broken legs this entire time?!?” Hotlink demanded.

Redwing shrugged. “Repair bills are expensive, what can I say?”

“Get them fixed!” Hotlink reprimanded loudly. “I am right here! Primus, do you even have a head?!”

Redwing paused and began to inhale. “Technically no…? This head isn’t mine.”

Hotlink groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Just because it’s not yours, doesn’t mean you don’t have one!”

“Wait, I don’t get it,” Sandstorm spoke up, frowning with confusion. “Why isn’t his head… his?”

“I don’t get what’s so confusing,” Redwing declared. “I’ve told my story at least three— two times… I think.” He paused to think. “I can’t keep track,” he then stated.

Hotlink dropped his hands back to his sides and reminded the red seeker, “You haven’t told him about the bodies in your closet.”

“’Bodies’?!” the conehead yelped. “What?!”

“What bodies do you have in your closet?” Alexis probed, appearing calmer than her adopted father. Perhaps she wasn’t taking what was being said quite as seriously as he was.

Redwing inhaled. “Well… Technically…”

Hotlink squinted and pointed at him warningly. “Don’t you go fragging with them, I swear on Galvatron’s crown…”

“Oh please,” Redwing groaned. “We’re trinemates, not conjunxes. Besides, they’re waaaaay too young for me. And you shouldn’t swear in front of the kid. So rude.”

“Like that’s stopped you from telling me and Sandstorm to kiss you…” Hotlink huffed.

“Signs of affection are different from acts of intimacy,” Redwing stated matter-of-factly. He then pointed at Alexis. “You better be paying attention, kid. If you don’t like someone, don’t kiss them. If they’re being creepy, don’t kiss ‘em. And if they’re doing it just to be weird…” The old seeker paused, trying to think of what to say. “I don’t know. Ignore them or something. Follow the two bland boys’ examples.”

Hotlink muttered under his breath. “’Bland’… ‘Sane’ more like…”

“So why does Rodimus kiss you, then?” Alexis asked.

“Because he’s a stressed out bot who has no personal time to himself and gets no real affection, because he has the Matrix, which is an arbitrary and stupid ‘rule’,” Redwing ranted. “When he gets someone of his own, then I’ll stop asking for kisses and he’ll move on.”

“I feel like we’ve strayed from the initial topic,” Sandstorm pointed out, apparently still deeply disturbed.

“You’re right, Sandstorm!” Redwing granted before continuing with, “That concert was really something, huh? I can dance waaay better than them, though.”

“That’s not what we were talking about!” the conehead exclaimed with irritation.

Redwing grinned as Hotlink rolled his optics and shook his head. “Sure we were! Right, kid?”

“I mean… We were at first,” Alexis admitted hesitantly. “But—”

Satisfied with her answer, the old seeker interrupted. “So there I was on stage—” he started, proceeding to go into detail about his experience and ignoring any attempts made to redirect the conversation.

Sandstorm shot Hotlink an annoyed squint, greatly perturbed by the red seeker’s behavior. All the purple seeker could do was cast him a tired look and shrug with resignation.

Chapter Text

It had been really quiet on the blockade runner. And rather lonely, too. A feeling that had been weighing down on Rodimus for a majority of the morning. But fortunately, the Prime knew of someone on board the ship that could cure that loneliness. However, Redwing was always squirmy. But after Redwing’s last outburst, Rodimus had a pretty good idea where he would be hiding. And lo and behold, he was in the seeker's room, somehow stuffed in the ceiling.

The Autobot commander stared up at the hole with a smile. “Hey, Redwing,” he called up.

“Op! Hold on…” Redwing called back. He shuffled around, seeming to be doing something delicately. After he made sure whatever he was working on was secure, he flung himself backwards to hang from the ceiling by his legs. "Yes, Noodle Boy?”

Rodimus smirked slightly and gave him a questioning look. “‘Noodle Boy’?"

“Yes,” the eccentric confirmed. “You’re maroon. Broth is maroon. Kinda. Broth has noodles. Therefore you’re Noodle Boy.”

The Autobot breathed a laugh. There was always that sort of roundabout logic when it came to Redwing's line-of-thought. “Alright. Just wanted to know if you’d care to go for a leisurely stroll with me?”

Redwing stared at Rodimus for a moment, leaving the two in an awkward silence. After a few seconds of this, he spoke up. “Isn’t that what normal people do? And… leisurely? With me? We might get attacked by some psycho robo chick or something.”

“I’d be less scared of a psycho robo chick attack if you were around to protect me,” the Prime teased, flashing him a small grin.

“M-Me? Protect you?” Redwing stammered. “A-Aren't you like-like a Prime or something?”

Rodimus shrugged. “That is my title, I guess. But I’m still… new to the gig.”

“Ah…” the seeker remembered. “That's right. You still baby.”

The Autobot could feel his smile broaden a bit. “Yes. Well, I guess this means you want to just keep hanging around the ship, so I'll just—” He sighed slightly dramatically and turned away, knowing full well that this was the sort of thing Redwing loved. “—go out and be afraid of impending psycho robo chick attacks. Without a brave red seeker beside me.”

“I think you're mistaking me for Hotlink,” Redwing retorted without missing a beat. “I'm a jerk. Hotlink is the one that cares about everyone.”

Rodimus didn’t expect a retort so quickly. He half-turned to look back up at him, still trying to goad him out of the ceiling. “Is that so? Is that another thing you keep telling yourself?”

“No. I just suck at taking care of myself.” As soon as Redwing was done talking, he slipped from the ceiling and landed on his head with a solid thud, his body slumping over his upper torso region. “There. See?”

The Autobot commander took advantage of the situation, fully turning to face the seeker and crouching. He stared into Redwing's optics with fond amusement. “Oh, I've heard the stories of how accident prone you are. Not all of them, I'm sure, but a good fair few.”

The eccentric stared back with amazement at what he just heard. “Accident prone? Really? That's what everyone's saying?” He scowled a bit. “That's not fair.”

“Why's that?”

“Accident prone implies I'm unlucky… Well, which is true… but not that kind of true.”

“You do it on purpose, then?”

Redwing fell silent again before answering. “…Possibly.”

Rodimus gave the seeker another smirk. “I figured as much. Is it for comedy? To cheer up those around you? Give them something else to think about? Or is it just another part of your ‘crazy’ act? To really sell it.”

“Sell? Psh. That would imply that I was a salesman at one point in my life.”

“I heard you were. Involuntary, but still. Horrible that happened.”

Redwing stared up at the Prime, peering at him with a look of concern. “I think you're missing the point.” He paused again before continuing. “Aaaaaalso… I think I found another reason why I can't go on that walk with you.”

“And why's that?”

“I think the fall from the ceiling broke my neck,” the eccentric admitted. “I can't move.”

“So you're trapped here with me,” Rodimus realized, his tone playfully sly.

Redwing’s optics widened. “Wait…”

Rodimus broadened his smirk, fully intending to take advantage of the situation. “Want to be in a better position?"

“Hold on! I want my neck fixed! HOTLINK! HELP!” Redwing shouted.

The Prime chuckled and began to help the seeker out of the awkward position. “What are you frightened of me for? I'm just a baby. You said so yourself.”

“You are a baby that can punch a moon to pieces! HOTLINK!!!!”

Hotlink eventually came into the room, looking around wildly, and seeming rather annoyed. “What?!” He spotted them across the room, with Rodimus trying to put Redwing upright. “What did you do to yourself this time?!” he groaned at his trinemate.

“He broke his neck, he thinks,” the Autobot informed, finally getting Redwing into a proper seated position.

“In the ceiling again?” the purple seeker groaned.

“How else am I going to play dimensional warfare?” Redwing defended pointedly. “I was gaining information on the demon that Alexis was telling me about.”

“Ah yeah, that thing really has her spooked, huh?” Rodimus asked, going along with whatever Redwing was on about.

“And… did you get anything?” Hotlink winced as he asked that question.

“It likes hair… has five faces… hairy butts… can't really control those butts, either. They're just… all over the place,” the eccentric recounted. “And I might have condemned an alien colony to die by meteor or something, but that's besides the point. If they got my message they should know what to do… I hope.”

Hotlink shook his head, bringing one of his hands up to rub his forehead. “Why was I worried about you?” he muttered warily.

“Let's just get his neck fixed so he can move,” Rodimus encouraged.

The engineer nodded. “I’ll go get my tools.” He then left the two alone in the room.

Rodimus waited until Hotlink was gone, and once the two were alone, he looked back into Redwing's optics. “Well, it wasn't the scene I was hoping for and my main question didn't get the chance to be asked, but I still learned a bit more about you. Let's do this again some time.”

“I'm fairly certain you gained nothing from this interaction,” Redwing declared.

The Prime got up and began to walk after Hotlink. “That's what you think,” he said coyly.

“WAIT!” Redwing called. “PUT ME BACK IN THE CEILING! I NEED TO BEAT UP THE DEMON WHILE I STILL CAN!”

Rodimus paused and turned back to face him. “You think you can beat up a demon with no control of your body from the neck down? What are you going to do? Sweet talk it close enough that you can bite whatever's closest?”

“I can do a lot more than that! I still have my MOUTH.” At that moment, a chess and checkers piece fell from the ceiling, landing right in front of Redwing. “DAMMIT!” he erupted with no small amount of annoyance.

“You can go back to defending the peace in the universe once you're fixed,” the Autobot soothed. “But as you were saying, you have a mouth?” He lowered his tone so that only Redwing could hear it, just in case anyone else was around. “What can you do with that mouth?”

Redwing eyed Rodimus, knowing full well what kind of response the Prime was looking for. “Well, I was going to call the demon a hairy pooper.” He began to pout a little. “But he got away…"

The Autobot commander shook it off. “He was between those two pieces, was he?”

“He was bound by two pieces,” Redwing corrected. "Temporally, mind you. Game pieces can only hold something back for so long, y’know?”

“Mhm,” Rodimus nodded. “Feeble things. Oh well. You'll catch the menace again and beat it, I'm sure.”

“Oh, I will,” Redwing declared, his tone of voice and facial expression becoming more sinister. “Believe me, I will.” Rodimus shook his head and left the seeker to his own devices. Well, as much as someone could do without a majority of their bodily functions.

[Later]

Sandstorm was walking by the red seeker's room a little while later, after Hotlink had gotten Redwing back on his feet. And odd thing, he noted, was that he heard someone talking rather threateningly from within. Despite his better judgment, he decided to take a peak inside.

Within the room, he saw Redwing, tapping something that looked to be a crucifix. The conehead couldn’t see what Redwing was talking to, though, and he wasn't sure whether to intervene or just leave it be.

“Alright, you hairy pooper,” the eccentric threatened, his tone dark, threatening almost. Very different and off-putting from his usual cheery and wild nature. “You were telling me about the skull demon Alexis was crying about. Talk. And don't drop the fraggin' moon this time.”

It was at this point Sandstorm felt chills run down his spinal strut, and he decided it was best to not get involved. Slowly and quietly, he backed away from the room, hoping not to experience what he just saw ever again.

It took about an hour before Redwing exited the room with a smile on his face. “Ah. That was a productive segment.” He paused to look down at his hands, which were covered in some sort of strange liquid. “Eh, I can wash them later.” He then turned and brought his hands up to cup around his mouth. “ALRIGHT, EVERYONE!” he yelled. “I'M GOING SHOPPING!”

"Don't get mauled by a psycho robo chick!” Rodimus called from another room.

“WHAT???” Sandstorm yelled, utterly appalled and clearly not expecting those words to come out of Rodimus’ mouth, of all bots.

Hotlink’s workshop was right next to the red seeker's room, with the door wide open. This meant that Redwing could hear Hotlink mutter, “Primus, help me… Not Rodimus, too…"

Alexis came out of another room and darted over to Redwing, clearly excited. "You’re going shopping??” she echoed hopefully. “What for?? Can I come??”

Redwing knelt down to the ten-year-old with a smile on his face. “Of course not, Alexis. It's for the demon monster.” He then looked at the rooms the other members of the ship were in. He had that look that everyone knew well. He was thinking something, and it might have involved everyone. “You know what, though… We should all have a day away from the ship. A night out,” he mused. He straightened up and promptly began to gather everyone together, all the while pushing them in the direction of the ship's entrance. “Alright. Everyone out! We are having a day outside the ship. You all can have a good family time!”

Alexis was clearly excited and cheered, all the while making sure to stay out from under the transformers’ feet as they were being pushed.

“Wait, but—” Sandstorm started to protest. He then paused and realized that this got him out of the homework Rodimus assigned. “Aw, I didn't want to do Rodimus' homework, anyway," he admitted, ceasing any efforts to resist the red seeker's force.

“I expect you to get that done soon, just fyi,” Rodimus informed matter-of-factly, going along with the eccentric's ushering. “If Carly thinks I'm slacking on you and Alexis' education, I'll need new audio receptors. “

The conehead let out a groan.

“But I'm in the middle of a project!” Hotlink complained, glaring with annoyance at the oldest seeker over his shoulder, his twin minicons in his arms.

“Nope!” Redwing refuted, still corralling everyone out of the ship. “No excuses. Everyone out. That includes you, Alexis. Everyone is going out of the ship tonight.”

“Yay~” Alexis cheered. She was the first to dash out of the ship. She went a bit ahead of the group to have a look around the area where they landed a few days ago.

“Hey, just remember to stay where I can see you!” Sandstorm shouted after her.

“‘kay!” Alexis came back a few paces before getting distracted and started to explore some of the nearby trees, heading in the direction of a lake in the distance.

Hotlink pouted slightly, uncomfortable about being outside the ship. Eventually, he stopped fighting the push. He went to stand beside Sandstorm and folded his arms, watching as the ten-year-old had a blast running around. Seeing her run around solo looked wrong to him, though. Peering down at the minicons in his hold, he figured they might bring some sort of presence for her. And so, he knelt down to release his minicons so that Alexis could interact with them and enjoy their company.

Redwing watched as the group began to do things away from the ship, without him having to push them out. Nodding in approval, he pulled out a remote Rodimus had given him. “Alright. You all have a good night,” he bade as he pushed a couple buttons on the remote, which both closed up the ship and locked it with a satisfying beep. “I got things to do.”

Rodimus turned to the red seeker. “Solo expedition, huh?” he asked.

“Yes,” Redwing answered simply. He then waved his hand dismissively at Rodimus, urging him to join the group. “Now shoo.”

The Autobot shook his head and chuckled with amusement, then strolled over to join the other two seekers with Alexis, who was exploring the terrain and asking Sandstorm for a lift now and again onto the trees and rocks.

“Sandstorm,” the eccentric suddenly called. “A word before you go.”

The conehead glanced back at Redwing, surprised that he would call for him. He set Alexis down where she wanted and told her to stay put before heading back to the red seeker. “Yeah?”

Redwing reached into his cockpit and pulled out what looked like a credit card from it. “This should have enough funds for you to get everyone a place to stay for the night." He held the card out, offering it to the tan seeker.

Sandstorm was hesitant and eyed it suspiciously before grasping it with his digits. “O…kay. Thanks.”

Just as he was about to take the card, Redwing pulled him in close enough to whisper into his audial.

“I’m counting on you,” his trinemate whispered. His tone was different. That same darkness he heard Redwing use before. The one that caused chills to run down Sandstorm’s spinal strut. “Make sure no one enters the ship tonight.”

All Sandstorm could really do was stare at him with a concerned look, but somehow he managed a nod and said, “All right…”

Once Redwing heard that, he backed away, the same cheery, oddball nature returning. “Good. Now go tend to your daughter. And make sure she doesn't find any leeches. I hear they're quite nasty on the human system. Sucks the blood right out of them.”

The conehead’s optics widened as he developed a horrified look at the thought. He didn’t know what leeches were, but the sound of the name didn’t bring reassurance. Sandstorm promptly scurried back to his daughter to ensure she didn't come into contact with whatever those leeches were.

Alexis spotted Sandstorm come back over and gave him a curious look. “You look like you saw ghosts, Daddy,” she observed.

The young seeker shuddered. Ghosts and leeches… “I hope I never do…” he muttered.

Redwing smiled as he watched the group wander together. Once he was satisfied that everyone was not returning to the ship for the night, he turned away from them and began counting on his fingers. “Let's see…” he muttered. “Two black rocks, a pair of glasses, holy oil, and a copper pipe…” He slowly cast his gaze around at his surroundings. “And the best place to start is…” He paused for a second as he peered off in the distance. “That way. To that backwater town that I totally can't see.” With that decided, he transformed into his aircraft mode and took off.

Hotlink glanced back at Redwing taking off into the distance. “Shopping, huh?”

“Oh, don't be so sour,” Rodimus comforted. “This gives you some time to spend with Heartburn and Heatstroke.” He gestured to the minicons, who were following Alexis as she explored the area.

Hotlink knew they weren’t fully alive, but with how he had built them, they were awfully close to it. As he watched them explore with the little girl, he gradually lost his pout, thinking that he might get a chance to teach them a bit more and help their basic AI components develop.

“Yeah, I guess so,” the engineer admitted. He then moved forward to join Alexis, Sandstorm, and the two minicons.

Rodimus lagged behind the group of fathers and children and watched them fondly, being reminded of the days he spent with Daniel. He missed being able to spend time with the young boy. The memories of time spent fishing with the young boy, watching him ride around on his hover-board, helping him with stunts... To be with someone who was a friend, and not someone who had the expectations that everyone put upon him. Those were memories the young Prime wished he could live through again.

[The Next Day]

Sleeping in a ship and sleeping in an actual resting area are two different things. For one, an actual resting area is much less cramped, meaning everyone got a good night sleep. So much so, that everyone departed late in the morning, all fueled up, and ready to tackle the day.

Sandstorm was the first to notice that the ship was open when they returned to it. He frowned and looked mildly concerned the closer they got. “He's not still…?” he muttered, tilting his head slightly. “Is he…?"

“Is who what?” Alexis pressed, unable to fill in the blanks.

“Uh, no-nothing,” the conehead answered. "Just thinking out loud. Everything's fine.” He hoped. The open doors did little to make Sandstorm less anxious, though.

The rest of the group finally caught sight of the open doors, but the moment they entered and got a good look at the inside of the ship, they were immediately on edge and alert. There seemed to be tears in the walls and splotches of strange residue splattered everywhere.

Alexis tucked herself into one of Sandstorm's vents and braced herself, her guardian and Hotlink prepping the blasters on their arms in case they needed to fire at someone. Rodimus led the way in, cautiously looking around. Given the state of the ship, no one could tell if it was vandalism or an actual fight that had taken place in there.

When the group entered the control room, they instantly found Redwing on the floor. He was absolutely covered in cuts, the strange residue that covered the ship, and his own energon. Rodimus and Hotlink rushed over and dropped to their knees on either side of him, staring at his body to assess the damage. Sandstorm simply peered down at him with worry.

“Redwing?!” Hotlink called franticly. “You okay?! What the slag happened in here?!”

To Hotlink’s relief, Redwing turned his head to look up at them all. How he was able to see though, no one could tell, as he was wearing what looked like glasses, but with black rocks in place of the actual glass.

“Oh…” the eccentric croaked, his voice exhausted and heavy. “Hey, guys… Good morning… You all have blue auras… Except you…” He raised his hand to point at Rodimus. “Yours is gold.”

The purple seeker sighed to relieve himself of his tension, gaining a weary expression. “He's fine…” he determined. After flicking another look at the cuts covering his trinemate’s body, he added, “Enough…”

Sandstorm tilted his head to the side, confused at something Redwing said. “Auras?”

“What's this set up, Redwing?” Rodimus chipped in, staring at the glasses with confusion.

“Psycho wench… and skull demon…” Redwing answered. “Who knew you could have both…” He paused a second and peered back up at the ceiling. And then he shifted his gaze over to Hotlink. “Hey… Hotlink… Not to open old wounds… but remember that time we got Sunstorm killed… in that mirror dome thing…? The one I almost got baked to death in… This was kinda like that moment… except I'm not baked…”

“Excuse me?” Sandstorm asked, the look of concern back on his face.

Hotlink winced. “Why did you have to say that…?”

“Yeah… One of Hotlink's old trinemates baked me…” Redwing explained, ignoring the engineer’s obvious discomfort. “He thought he was… an emissary of Primus... With me in the room… with him… He really didn't know how to… control himself…”

With his head turned to try and make sure no one could see his expression, Hotlink got to his feet and made his way out of the room. Sandstorm was the only one that was able to witness his face had a look of pain and anguish on it.

All the conehead could do, though, was watch him go. He had no idea that Hotlink had to go through all that, and he could only imagine the trauma that the purple seeker must have endured when that happened.

Alexis crawled out of Sandstorm’s vent, which she called her safe space, and peered after Hotlink with sympathy before she leaned over Sandstorm's chest to look down at Redwing. “You said skull demon and a 'psycho wench’,” she inquired tentatively. “Were those what I was seeing? You fought them?”

“Her… One entity,” the red seeker corrected. “And yep… I stabbed her good… She's on that table…” The eccentric pointed to one of the command consoles. “She should… be gone… in a week or so…” he reassured.

Rodimus frowned in the direction of the command console and got up to check it. He ran a couple fingers through the liquid and brought it a little closer to his face to look at it, rubbing his thumb through it thoughtfully. It was covered in the same strange residue splattered in other places on the ship. Only in this instance, it seemed to be all over the console.

Alexis' tension left her as she smiled down at the oldest seeker. “Thank you, Redwing. She was scary…”

“You’re… welcome. Anyways… Can I get patched up…?” Redwing asked through a heavy breath. “I'm losing a lot of energon…”

“I think Hotlink went to—” Sandstorm began.

Hotlink interrupted Sandstorm by walking past the conehead, startling him for a second. With his tools in his hands, he was ready to fix up the eccentric. The purple seeker knelt beside Redwing again and started wiping the residue and energon off of his wounds before getting to work fixing them.

Redwing let out a sigh. “Thanks… Hotlink… You're the best… son I could ever have…” he smirked.

Hotlink shook his head, the pain and anguish from earlier replaced with a 'dead' gaze as a mask. “You’ve lost too much energon if you're saying slag like that…” he mumbled.

Rodimus smirked at the back-and-forth, then turned to Sandstorm and Alexis. “Hey, do him a favor and grab a cube of energon. Medium-sized.”

“Okay,” Alexis acknowledged with a nod. “We’ll go get it then come right back.” She retreated back to her safe space as Sandstorm began to scamper away to their energon supply to get what the Prime had asked.

Rodimus waited for the two to leave before he moved back over to Redwing and knelt down again. “Is this that demon's blood?” he queried. He then held up the two fingers with the strange residue on them.

Redwing raised the arm that wasn’t being worked on and started counting. “Inter-dimensional… female… psycho cyborg… skull demon… ghost blood… I think… Maybe a bit of holy oil as well… That stuff was… gushing out of her… each time I stabbed her…”

“Ohhhkay,” the Autobot commander sighed. He got back onto his feet and headed for their cleaning supplies cupboard, pulling out what he needed before getting started on the command console. “For what it's worth… job well done, Redwing.”

“Thanks… golden Noodle Boy…” Redwing breathed. He turned his head slightly to peer up at his trinemate. “Also… Hotlink… I used one of your cleaning cloths… It has holy oil on it… It's not yours anymore… I promised it… to an inter-dimensional… overlord.”

“Sure…” Hotlink waived, dismissing Redwing’s remarks. “Whatever… Send him my regards…”

“…And Sunstorm's pissed at you…” the red seeker added. “And me…”

Hotlink fell silent, pursing his lips while he pressed the soldering iron briefly against Redwing's plating.

“You know…” Redwing continued, “he could have had it all… You were probably the best thing that happened to Sunstorm…”

The engineer clenched his teeth and tried to keep his hands steady as he continued patching Redwing up. “I don't want to talk about this…” he growled warningly.

“Huh… Sunstorm does…” Redwing mused. His head rolled back to facing the ceiling. “He was so happy when you became his trinemate… I remember the look on his face… when he learned he was getting someone not Bitstream… someone that cared…”

“Fraggit, stop talking like you're in his head!” Hotlink barked out angrily. “Is this just another joke to you?!”

“He's technically… right there.” Redwing pointed at an empty space of air, somewhere between Hotlink and a row of consoles in the room. “I can see him… through these rocks…” he added.

Hotlink paused to draw in a shaky breath and collect himself before continuing to fix Redwing up. “I'm not talking about this… The past is the past… Just let me move on, dammit…”

“Alright…” Redwing turned his head towards the empty space. “Sorry…” Redwing then fall silent for a bit, letting Hotlink do his work.

Rodimus glanced back at both of them. He had never heard of Sunstorm, but he was able to pick up on the small bits of the conversation. And he put it together enough that he could understand what was happening. Redwing might have been taking this a bit too far… The Prime watched as Hotlink took a few more deep intakes from time-to-time, trying to keep himself calm to save face in front of… well, anyone that was watching, it seemed.

Sandstorm and Alexis had come back into the room, the conehead carrying the energon portion Rodimus asked for.

“We got it!” Alexis chirped from her perch on Sandstorm's shoulder.

Rodimus shifted to face them and smiled. “Great, guys. Set it down on the table there and start cleaning up the entryway, please.”

“Got it,” Sandstorm nodded. He went to do as told, grabbing some cleaning supplies from the nearby closet before leaving the room again.

Hotlink spent a little more time making sure the patches he put on Redwing were strong enough that they'd hold properly, then promptly gathered up his things and left the room for a different section of the ship, leaving as quietly and as quickly as he could without breaking down.

Once the engineer was gone, Rodimus paused his cleanup to grab the energon portion and bring it over to Redwing.

The red seeker had somehow moved his head and was staring up at Rodimus, though, how he could see through rocks was anyone’s guess. “I'm guessing you're Noodle Boy,” Redwing noted. “All I can see is your auras and hear your voices. Why is your aura gold? Is it because you're a Prime?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Rodimus set the portion in Redwing's hands.

Redwing’s hand grasped the cube. “Ooh… That's cold.”

Rodimus made to take the rock glasses off of Redwing's head. As the glasses were being removed, Redwing made a noise equivalent to a screech and a squeal all at once.

“Is this what reality looks like?!” he shrieked. “It's bright…”

The Autobot leader would have normally found this more amusing under better circumstances. At this point, however, he fixed Redwing with a serious expression. The eccentric had to be corrected. “…Redwing, I hope you understand the full extent of that conversation you and Hotlink had.”

“You all are mad at me. And all I did was fight another dimension and interact with our ghosts,” Redwing informed apathetically. “This is totally unwarranted.”

“No. It's just Hotlink who's mad,” Rodimus chided. “I'm disappointed in you. Hotlink told you repeatedly to stop talking about Sunstorm. And you persisted. I’ll choose to believe you when you said you saw Sunstorm's ghost. However. That is not something you should be casually telling Hotlink like you just did, with little regard for his feelings.”

“See, if any of you took me seriously, I would be so terrifying to work with.” The eccentric got up onto his feet slowly. “So I'm okay with all of you being mad. It's one of the few things that makes me still feel normal.”

“…I can see I'm talking to a brick wall.” Rodimus got up and went back to cleaning, turning away from Redwing. “You owe Hotlink more than a simple ‘sorry’. Imagine if he just carelessly started talking about your rust experiences like they didn't traumatize you. Like it meant nothing.”

“And he has every right to,” Redwing declared. “But Hotlink has always been surprisingly nice. Because he and I know it isn't Sunstorm that is going to set him off.”

Rodimus shook his head. “What does or doesn’t set him off is not the point. You hurt him. And that paltry ‘sorry’ you put out holds no weight if you don’t have remorse. If you truly care about Hotlink and consider him a son, then I advise you to really think about what you said and how it affected him. And then make it up to him.”

Redwing paused, processing what Rodimus was talking about. His optics widened when he realized what was happening. “Oh! You thought I was saying sorry to Hotlink. No. Not at all. I was just trying to pass on a message and Hotlink shut me down. I was saying sorry to Sunstorm.”

Rodimus stopped and tensed up. He took a deep breath. “…Redwing. You started off that conversation by saying Sunstorm was pissed off. What did you expect Hotlink to do? Receive the ‘message’ with open arms? Be pleased that his old trinemate resents him?”

“You’re drawing a lot of conclusions I don’t think you understand.”

“So was he, apparently.”

Redwing paused. “Who?”

“Hotlink.”

“Ah,” he realized. “Well, if Hotlink would listen to the fraggin’ message, then all of this would be cleared up. But if you’re going to be busy trying to get me to apologize for trying to give an apology, then frag off.”

Rodimus turned to him with his optics slightly narrowed, his patience clearly wearing thin with the seeker. “…You know what? Deliver the darn message. But I expect you both to be on good terms when this is done.”

“Well, now you’re just being inconsiderate, Noodle Boy.” Redwing mused. “You didn’t even ask Hotlink if he wanted to hear it.”

“Neither did you.”

“I didn’t even give it.”

“Because your intro sucked.”

“That was building pretexts!” Redwing declared. “Do you want me to begin the tale with how you became Prime with how the last one died? Because last time I checked, that was also part of the story. An important part, as a matter of fact.”

Rodimus glared at him. “No, actually. I wouldn’t want you to start with that detail. But if you were going to do that, why not go the whole way?” he started, his tone getting more aggravated as he went on. “Why not start off with the battle at Autobot City? With how I tried to help Optimus defeat Megatron, and only wound up getting him killed?! You sure as slag wouldn’t be the first and you wouldn’t be the last! How about you linger on the part that got Optimus killed in the first place? ‘Rodimus was useless and got pinned by Megatron’!”

Redwing sighed and shook his head. “How are you so young and naive that that's all you're focusing on?”

“Regardless of how I feel about that situation,” Rodimus continued, evening out his tone again. “I shared that to prove a point. Your complete and total lack of empathy doesn’t exactly make people receptive to anything important you want to tell them. If it’s something someone is still struggling to find peace with, you need to take a softer approach. You may be old as dirt, but that doesn’t make you wise beyond your years.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Redwing nodded, clearly not listening anymore. “Listen. Sunstorm's getting impatient and Prime's shaking his head at you.” He turned to look around to Hotlink. “Do you want to hear the message or do you already know what I'm going to say next now that I know your secret.” As he was swept his gaze around, he finally realized that Hotlink had long since left. “Oh… Well, I'll tell him to stop burning himself later…”

“Just drink your energon,” Rodimus fumed. “All this is doing is making me want to punch a moon into a million pieces.” He turned and went back to cleaning the console.

Redwing gave an optic roll and brought the energon to his mouth. “I'm going to be like that monkey in that one movie and keep beating you over the head with a stick until you and Hotlink learn your lessons,” he said in-between drinks.

“You watch just how effective that’ll be…” the Autobot leader muttered grimly.

“Oho! You think I only have a message for Hotlink?” Redwing asked with a smirk. “No… I got instructions from Prime on what to do with you.”

“Oh joy,” Rodimus declared, his words dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “I can’t wait to hear it. ‘Rodimus, I left you a weighty legacy to fill. Sorry about that. But through the power of the Matrix and friendship, you’ll find a way.’” The young Autobot leader grunted at the act he just gave. “Yeah, thanks, Prime. I feel so much better already,” he muttered.

“That's… part of the problem and why Prime left me instructions,” Redwing relayed.

“Mhm. Figures.” Rodimus said bitterly.

“Well, while you're moping about your burden,” Redwing declared, swirling the energon cube in his hand. “I'm going to detox myself from all the holy oil I drank and stop seeing ghosts. Too many people in the room and it's making me dizzy.” He slowly took in the energon, sipping it like a fine wine.

Rodimus let out another sigh. “…I'll talk with Hotlink later and see if I can get him to be a little more receptive."

“Oh, screw being receptive!” Redwing blurted out loudly, waving his arm in the air. “If there's one thing I won't stand for, it's that boy self-harming himself. Sunstorm's pissed at him about it!”

Rodimus finally stopped and turned to him once more, staring for a bit as penny dropped... and then ran a hand down his face as the realization hit. “And the dots connect…” he uttered shamefully as he set down the cleaning supplies. “I’ll go get him.”

“Oh…” The red seeker took another sip of energon. “Well, I was going to do what I did last time to get his attention.”

Rodimus raised an optic ridge at him, both curious and concerned as to what happened last time. “Which was?”

“I melted my hand over an open fire.”

“Do NOT do that!” Rodimus ordered. “Primus almighty, just wait here and don’t do ANYTHING that’ll get you hurt! I mean it!”

“Nah, it's fine,” Redwing waived. “I have plenty of spares."

The Prime pointed at him warningly before leaving the room to go get Hotlink.

Redwing watched as Rodimus left, then turned to an open spot of air and began talking to it. “So do you really think this is a good idea?” He paused. “Cliffjumper? Isn't he the little yellow one? ...Oh. And you just took his cannon away when he was misbehaving?” He paused again. “I don't know… A Matrix is much different from a cannon.”

After a few minutes, Rodimus came back in with a miserable-looking Hotlink, holding his hand as he escorted him. Hotlink, looked distraught and highly embarrassed, given that in the past few minutes he had been sobbing in a closet, hoping no one would find him.

“Okay. So this time, we’re going to listen to what Redwing has to say. Alright?” Rodimus pressed softly, trying to keep him comforted.

“…Mm…" was all Hotlink could muster as he kept his gaze off his trinemate.

“Oop. Showtime,” Redwing realized. He took in the rest of the energon, then paused for a brief moment. “Oh, this is going to be a journey… I can still hear voices,” he mumbled. “Anyways. Hotlink. You ready?”

Hotlink shut his optics, bracing himself for whatever Redwing was going to say. “…Just say it…” he bade through gritted teeth. “Get it over with…”

“Sunstorm told me everything,” Redwing informed sternly. “Show me your wrists.”

Rodimus let go of Hotlink’s hand, giving him a chance to show the two.

Hotlink hesitated, opening his optics to look at one of his wrists as he softly ran his fingers over it. Slowly, he extended them out and exposed them to show off the burn marks.

Redwing dropped his gaze to look them over and got closer, caressing one of the wrists in his hand as he gently examined it. “Ooh… He was right. This is a deep one,” the red seeker commented. He then looked up at Hotlink with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Do you want to take a guess at what the message is, or do you want me to give you the condensed version?”

“…Stop burning myself…” Hotlink whimpered pitifully.

Redwing nodded. “Yeah. Well, that's the point of it, anyways. So, yes. You guessed it right. As your guardian angel, Sunstorm wants you to stop burning yourself.”

Hotlink finally met Redwing’s gaze, totally not expecting those words to come out of Redwing’s mouth. “G…Guardian angel…?”

“Yes,” his trinemate confirmed. “Guardian angel. Sunstorm's been watching over you since we killed him.” He paused, looking behind him at nothing. “What?” He stood silent for a moment. “Oh, sorry. Since he lost control and killed himself. He doesn't blame us for what we did to him.”

All Hotlink could do was stare at his trinemate, his face starting to contort as he tried to hold in his emotions, trying to process everything. “But he should be... in the Wellspring…” he reasoned quietly.

“Yeah, well, Sunstorm refused,” Redwing informed matter-of-factly. “And he's pissed at you because he sees you doing this—” He held up Hotlink's wrists so those in the room could see the marks. “—to yourself. And now he's pissed at me because I caught it once and didn't catch on to it later.”

Hotlink sniffled a bit, gritting his teeth to further try and keep his emotions in check, but ultimately failed and hung his head, sobbing softly. The weight and gravity and relief of everything that was just told was just too much for him to handle.

Redwing let go of the wrist. He then turned to Rodimus. "Noodle Boy, can you hold him?” he requested. “I’m not good with the whole ‘emotions’ thing.”

“That much was obvious,” Rodimus said. He gently turned Hotlink toward him and brought him into a hug, letting the seeker lean in and weep against his shoulder. Redwing just took some steps back and waited for the engineer to let it all out.

Hotlink cried probably an appropriate amount given the situation, then got himself mostly under control and leaned away from Rodimus, wiping his tears. He clearly wasn’t done crying though, as he was trying to speak through the sobs. “I’ll… I’ll stop… I’m sorry…”

“Oh, I know you are,” Redwing nodded. “Now the question is: how to keep your mind off of doing this…” He thought for a second. “I mean, you have your makeshift minicons, but they technically aren't alive.” His optics widened as he was suddenly struck with an idea. “Ooooooh… We could fix that…” He promptly reached into his cockpit and pulled out two vials of blue glowing energy, examining them with great interest. “Where are the two?”

“Th… Put away… In my storage unit…” Hotlink answered with hesitation.

“Cool!” Redwing regained the glint in his eye and turned his gaze to the Autobot still holding his son. “Hope you don't mind me taking this Matrix energy, by the way.” He then dashed out of the room without any explanation or context, shouting as he went. “TIME TO ADD SOME FAMILY MEMBERS!”

Hotlink watched him go, his face riddled with confusion. “H…He can do that…?”

“Technically,” Rodimus answered, his head bobbing from side-to-side as he stared after the eccentric with astonishment. “I more want to know how he got that in the first place.”

Redwing made his way into Hotlink's quarters and opened up his storage unit. Wasting no time, he proceeded to pull out the two small bots and placed them on Hotlink's worktable. “Alright now… What do I do again? Voices? Are you still there? Did the detox finally kick in? Welp, looks like I'm winging it.” He began to dig around the engineer’s equipment, looking for cables and alligator clamps.

Sandstorm had caught the shouting Redwing done and peered into the room the red seeker had left the others in, fixing his gaze on Rodimus and Hotlink. “What was that about adding family members?” And then he became aware of Hotlink’s emotional state and became worried. “Are you okay?” he checked.

“He’ll be alright.” Rodimus assured in Hotlink's stead, certain the purple seeker wasn't ready to do much talking yet. “Redwing’s experimenting with something. How’s the entryway looking?”

“A little more organized,” Sandstorm shrugged. “Not as messy as this room.”

“Thank you,” the Prime expressed.

“Should… we check on Redwing?” Sandstorm suggested hesitantly.

Rodimus shrugged at the notion. “If you want.” He then turned to Hotlink. “Hotlink, if you want to have a seat, I’m going to keep cleaning before these liquids dry and stain.”

The engineer gave him a small nod and went to sit down at one of the control stations.

Sandstorm left and went to collect Alexis before going after Redwing to see what he was doing. He spent a bit of time searching around the ship before finding his trinemate in Hotlink’s workroom.

“Let’s see…” Redwing muttered to himself. “Prime told me the Matrix can create life… But it can't do it on its own… It needs a spark to start the process…” He looked down at his chest, tilting his head from side-to-side as he considered his options. “Well, I can't reach that.” He then turned to yell behind him and out of the room. “HEY! ANYONE! I NEED TO BORROW YOUR SPARK FOR A FEW SECONDS!”

The conehead in the doorway winced as the red seeker yelled, then he fully entered the room with furrowed optic ridges. “Why do you need our sparks?” he asked.

His daughter took a moment to add her own inquiry. “And what’s a spark?”

“It's what I'm about to give your new cousins,” Redwing answered. “Sandstorm. Perfect. Come here and open your chest,” he demanded, giving the work desk in front of him a pat.

Sandstorm gained a look of concern, but began walking toward the desk, preparing to open his chest up. “You’re not gonna… take mine out and split it or anything, right?"

Redwing paused and slowly looked the young seeker over with suspicion “…How do you know about that? That technique hasn't been seen in ages.”

The conehead’s optics immediately widened and his mouth snarled with disgust as he recoiled, processing Redwing’s response. He quickly put his hands over his spark chamber, trying to keep his spark safe from the red seeker. “I was just guessing! That was a practice?!”

“Early in my grandpa's days,” Redwing waived nonchalantly. “But Primus made everyone forget how to do that. BUT I have a close equivalent.”

“Is it going to do anything to me?” Sandstorm asked, his disgust softening and replacing his active expression with worry and suspicion.

“Ummm…” Redwing pondered this inquiry for a moment, glancing several times between Sandstorm, the minicons on the work desk, and the vials of Matrix energy in his hands. “That's a good point,” he eventually concluded. “Maybe Hotlink should do this…”

All Sandstorm could really do with this information was shudder. He beat a hasty retreat from the room to go get Hotlink from the control center.

Alexis turned her head to look at Sandstorm’s face. “He wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you, right?” she checked.

The young seeker let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Some days I don’t know…" He soon re-entered the room Rodimus and his trinemate were in. “Hotlink, Redwing says he needs you. Something about splitting sparks…” he reported.

Hotlink had to take a second to process what Sandstorm had said. Then his optic ridges furrowed, but he got up with a sigh to go to his workroom. It didn't take him long to reach the room, despite how lethargic his movements were. “You’re going to try splitting a spark?” he questioned.

Redwing whipped his head around and raised an optic ridge at him. “You really think I have the knowledge to do that? Now lay down on the table and open your chest.” He motioned to the table and began to start connecting the cables to the Matrix vials.

The engineer blinked at the makeshift set up, but moved towards the table anyways. He didn’t have the energy to argue. Today had been too physically and emotionally draining. Once laid down, he opened his spark chamber for his trinemate to access and kept still.

“Alright…” Redwing uttered. “I think the best way to do this is going to be one at a time…” He started to hook up one of the Matrix vials to the first minicon, then took two bigger cables from the vial to Hotlink's spark. Then he hesitated, glancing at the minicon laid down and hooked up. After mulling it over, he spun around to try and yell out the door again. “HEY! CAN I GET A HAND IN HERE, PLEASE?”

From the control room, Rodimus glanced over at Sandstorm, who was shaking his head and taking many rapid steps away from the door.

“I'm not going back in there,” he declared.

“Guess you and Alexis are stuck on clean up duty.” Rodimus handed over the cleaning supplies to them and exited the control room to go help out Redwing. The moment he saw Hotlink laid on the table, he became suspicious of the scene. “What do you need me to do?”

“Aha. Noodle Boy nurse!” Redwing greeted with a grin. “Can you make sure that the other minicon is set up like the first?” He wrestled with the cables in his hands as he pulled out a second vial of Matrix energy and somehow offered it to the Prime. “We're going to do one after the other in quick succession.”

Rodimus took it and examined the setup that Redwing did with the first minicon, then worked on getting the second set up in the same way. He paused once he felt the set up was correct and glanced over at the red seeker. “This look right?” he checked.

The eccentric flicked his gaze over for half a second, then went back to what he was doing. “Yeah. Sure. Now, you got to make sure that when I begin the process, that minicons won't jump off the table. We don't want them to break their little necks. Hotlink would be devastated.”

At the blunt statement, the seeker in discussion involuntarily made a soft whimper.

Rodimus moved over to Heartburn and carefully held it down. “Got it.”

“Alright.” Redwing poised himself to attach the cables to Hotlink's spark, then paused again and looked up at the Autobot commander. “Now, before we begin, do you know of any painkillers or powerful sedatives hiding around here?”

“Yeah,” Rodimus confirmed. “I actually picked some up at the stop after Sandstorm took that boulder to his arm.”

Redwing blinked at him. “…Well, which is it? Painkillers or sedatives?”

“Painkillers,” Rodimus clarified. “Couldn’t find sedatives.”

“Oh… Where are they?”

“In the upper cupboard just in the hall,” he said, pointing to the doorway.

“Oh, that's too far away.” Redwing shrugged before addressing the seeker laid on the table in front of him. “Welp, I guess if there's any pain you'll just have to grin and bear it.”

“Thanks…” Hotlink muttered dubiously.

“Alright. Here we go.” Without a second of warning, Redwing plunged the cables directly onto Hotlink's spark.

Hotlink abruptly felt a powerful aching start up in his chest, forcing a sharp gasp out of him as his body involuntarily tensed. The pain was so much different than what he was used to receiving from a normal wound. It was nothing that made him want to scream, but he also couldn’t be quiet about it as the pain started spreading downward, a nigh unbearable cramping making him want to curl up. He gripped the sides of the table tightly and squeezed his optics shut, resisting the urge to pull away from Redwing.

Rodimus kept a firm hold on the minicon. He was amazed when the little thing began to react. The blue vial that was attached to his chest immediately emptied itself directly into the tiny transformer, causing the minicon to jolt around violently.

“How we doing, Noodle Boy?” Redwing asked.

“Holding it down,” the Prime reported. “The vial's empty.”

Hotlink tried to take deep vents to better handle the pain. The aching was only getting worse as it spread and he wanted to scream at this point, but the pain somehow was preventing him from doing so.

“That means the first one is done.” Redwing took the cables off the spark, which gave Hotlink a brief respite as his trinemate switched stuff around.

The purple seeker took a moment to relax, panting as most of the pain lifted, though shadows of it remained. Just what had Redwing talked him into this time?

The moment Redwing had pulled the cables away from Hotlink's spark, the minicon in Rodimus' grip stopped squirming and went limp for a few seconds. Its motions were slow at first as it began to test its limbs. The Autobot waited until he was sure the minicon wasn’t going to twitch and fall off before he let go to move over to Heatstroke, holding it the same way.

Redwing gave everything a once over, making sure the minicon was secure and that it wasn’t going to bounce all over the place. As soon as he made sure the second minicon was ready, he went back over to Hotlink and dived right back in without warning. “AND ROUND TWO!” he announced loudly.

Hotlink shouted as he was caught off guard this time, then subdued it to a slightly strangled noises as he braced himself again. This time he had the capacity to scream as an attempt to let go of the pain coursing though his body.

“Deep intakes, Hotlink,” Rodimus soothed.

“I'M INTAKING…!!” the engineer shouted frustratedly between vents.

“I think you just want to scream,” Redwing commented. “How’s he looking, Tomato Soup?”

“As good as the first,” Rodimus reported, ignoring the change in name.

“YAY!” Redwing cheered.

The same process that happened to the first minicon occurred once more. This minicon convulsed and twitched rapidly as the Matrix energy from the vial drained into it, and Rodimus did everything he could to make sure that it was held down firmly.

“WHY...! WAS I TALKED...! INTO THIS…?!” Hotlink screamed through painful intakes of air.

“Well, here's the thing.” Redwing took the cables off of the engineer, causing the pain flowing through him to subside. “You weren't. It just sort of… happened. Congratulations, by the way. You birthed twins.”

Hotlink went limp and panted heavier than before, exhausted from the painful process he had just endured twice now. The news of twins barely registered in his mind.

Rodimus leaned down and carefully picked up Heatstroke, who was slowly starting to realize he had motor functions. The Autobot carefully cradled him and brought him over to Hotlink. "Want to hold them?” the Prime offered.

“…Wha’…?" Hotlink blinked, the realization of what just happened finally setting in.

“You should probably close your spark chamber first,” the Autobot suggested.

The purple seeker lethargically had it shut, still recovering from what Redwing had put him through, making many of his movements sluggish and heavy.

“Yes,” the eccentric nodded approvingly as he packed up the cables. “Hold your new children. It will make you feel better.”

Heatstroke curiously peered at Hotlink from in Rodimus’ arms, the newborn locking gazes with his parent. All the while, from his spot on the table, Heartburn slightly tilted his head as he looked around, trying to take in his surroundings. He spotted his creator on the same workbench as he was and began an attempt to move towards him, but failed due to his new lack of skill in his motor functions.

Rodimus moved over to the purple seeker and gently set the Heatstroke down on Hotlink's chest, then helped shift the engineer's arm so it draped over the minicon securely, making this the first time Hotlink had contact with the newborn since the young one had gained sentience.

Hotlink blinked wearily and stared at the newborn with awe. “…He's looking at me…” he murmured softly. He had held the two minicons before, but… they weren’t like this. They didn’t have life of their own. Not like they did now. The engineer couldn’t tell if they were alive before, if their simple AI components had been developing like he wanted, but he could tell now. He could feel Heatstroke’s spark-pulse through his now sensitive armor.

Rodimus then picked up Heartburn and did the same thing, placing him on the other side of Hotlink's chest and bracing him the same way that he did with Heatstroke.

Hotlink braced the two minicons as they stared up at him. “They both are…” He smiled as he looked down at them, holding them close as they continued to wiggle around to examine him. “Their movements are so natural…” he realized.

It was difficult to find words that properly expressed the feeling and the beauty of the situation. Redwing took a couple steps back and watched as the two newborns continued to wiggle around in Hotlink’s arms. Rodimus stood close by, both in awe of the two newborns and in case one of them fell.

The only thing that could actually be heard was the beeping and chirping from the two on Hotlink’s chest. One of the minicons almost got up, successfully making it out of his carrier’s weak hold, but eventually fell down on his aft with a small thump. Redwing giggled at this, and Rodimus folded his arms and smiled, taking a small step back to let Hotlink spend time with his new children.

Heartburn then locked optics with Hotlink, who smiled slightly with deep fondness back at him “Hi…” he greeted tenderly. “Heartburn… Heatstroke…” Hotlink raised his hands to gently rub the tops of their heads. It was… different saying their names now. He had used these names before, but they were only make-believe with what were essentially dolls that had no name at the time. But now it was like giving something precious a title.

Heartburn continued to stare into Hotlink's optics but then his attention was turned towards the hand that was touching him, while Heatstroke immediately began to try and play with the hand nearest him.

“You know, I think Sandstorm and Alexis would like to meet the new family members,” Redwing suggested with a light tone. “Just a thought.”

Rodimus nodded his agreement. “They'll certainly want to know why Hotlink was in so much pain, at least.” Without missing another beat, he turned and strode out of the room to go get them.

Hotlink breathed a small laugh and let Heatstroke do what he pleased with his hand. After a bit, he moved the hand rubbing Heartburn to rest on his abdomen. The suggestion by Redwing completely ignored, seeing as he was too enthralled with the two tiny transformers on his chest.

Rodimus soon returned with Sandstorm and Alexis in tow. Alexis was the first to react, gasping and pointing to Heartburn and Heatstroke with gleeful surprise.

“They're alive now!” she squealed with utmost delight.

“The process sounded horrible…” Sandstorm muttered, tilting his head as he looked at the new arrivals on their father.

“Nah, it wasn't too bad,” Redwing reassured. “It would probably be even worse if he was a proper carrier. I hear the pain gets real intense for them.”

Hotlink dropped his smile and groaned as he caught Redwing’s comment. “I feel so bad for carriers, now…” he uttered.

Sandstorm got closer and carefully let Alexis down onto the table. However, the little girl was much more enthusiastic and made a jump onto the table before her father finished approaching it, causing him to lurch forward a little, afraid of her falling further than she would have. But she made it, and was already carefully climbing onto Hotlink and crawling over to Heatstroke.

“Hi!” she greeted, cooing over the newborn. “I’m Alexis! I’m your big sister! Or cousin, or whatever Redwing said!” she introduced, looking back and forth between Heartburn and Heatstroke. She then paused and peered at Hotlink. “Right?”

When Alexis came into his view, Heatstroke started to bounce, giving off a series of his own chirps and beeps. Still trapped in Hotlink's hold, Heartburn heard Alexis and wriggled to try and see who was talking.

“Sure, kid…” Hotlink chuckled in response to her question.

Alexis perked up and turned her attention back to the minicons. “I’ll take good care of you, and we can play games! Like treasure hunt! Redwing’s teaching me how to be really good at that!” She blinked and flicked her gaze to Rodimus. “Will they have to do homework, too?” she checked with a concerned look.

“Not for a while,” Rodimus answered with an amused smirk. “They’re not developed enough.”

“Lucky…” she sighed.

The group continued to interact with the two minicons. Alexis overjoyed to have two new family members, one of whom was trying to get up onto his feet again. Sandstorm leaned in and extended a finger so that the minicon could maintain his balance. Hotlink shut his optics to rest, completely emotionally and physically spent by this point.

While everyone was distracted, Redwing did his best to leave the room as quietly as he could. He grabbed a nearby mop and with quick and swift motions, started to clean up the unknown liquid from the floors.

Rodimus stuck around for a bit to watch, then wandered out of the room to grab painkillers for Hotlink. As he was getting them, he noticed the lack of mess in the area. Letting his optics scan the area, he started inspecting the rooms he saw there to be a mess in before, but now found them completely clean. He soon found the reason. Redwing, who was at the console where he claimed to have killed a demon. The Prime simply stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame, folding his arms as he watched the seeker do his work.

“Alright, m’lady…” Redwing set down his equipment and made a sort of swimming motion over the console. “Make. Your mess. On the floor. Get. Off. The console. There we go. Now, how much of your goo got into the console?” He crouched down to inspect it further.

“…So how many bots have you helped deliver?” Rodimus finally asked, breaking his silence.

Redwing glanced behind him to see the Autobot in the doorway. “Oh. Umm… I dunno.” He then went back to examining the console.

“More than just those two, I’d suspect? It didn’t seem like that was your first rodeo back there.”

“I was guessing for a good portion of that,” Redwing admitted. “Prime was actually giving me ideas before he got cut off.” He pointed to a half-filled plastic bottle on the other end of the room. “Hand me that bottle over there. The one labeled ‘Redwing’s ghost goo’.”

Rodimus walked over and picked the bottle up, examining it carefully while he brought it over to the seeker. “Guess you’re just an incredibly lucky, unlucky jack-of-all-trades,” he commented.

Redwing took the bottle and began to use a rag to guide the goo stuck from the console into the bottle. “I’m not sure that this would qualify me as a ‘jack-of-all-trades’ sort of guy,” he said. “Also, being a 'lucky unlucky'? Doesn’t that make me normal?”

“No, not really,” Rodimus answered casually, kneeling down to watch Redwing work. “You’re somehow both without being normal in the slightest.”

“Well, that makes sense.” The red seeker cleaned up the last of the goo inside the console before closing it up and spinning around to sit up against it. “I would say that that was one heck of an apology, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, it was something, all right.” The Autobot then straightened up and shifted to sit next to Redwing. “Speaking of which, I… actually came to apologize to you. You’re right, I jumped to conclusions earlier.”

“Oho! You totally should be,” Redwing nodded with satisfaction. “It’s the one thing that annoys me most about you. It annoys Optimus, too, but he did the same thing when he was in command. That’s why he left me instructions on what to do with you.”

“Like I need a babysitter…” Rodimus mumbled with mild annoyance.

Redwing laughed at the comment. “No, you don’t. Again, jumping to conclusions. Everyone younger than Soundwave does this. This isn’t new to me, I hope you understand.”

“I’m sure it’s not. You’re ancient of days.”

“Uh-huh.” Redwing took a deep breath, taking a moment to relax and listen to the voices from down the hall. “You know when I said Hotlink wouldn’t blow up at the mention of me and him killing Sunstorm?"

“Yeah.”

“That’s because he’s made peace with that,” Redwing informed. “He’s already accepted it’s happened. What he fears is something else entirely, but is also related.”

“Would it be rude to ask what that is?” Rodimus queried.

“Oh, not at all. In fact, It’s probably important that you know this.” Redwing looked up at the ceiling and began to elaborate. “When we were under attack by Sunstorm, we sort of… trapped him in a room that was basically one big mirror. All sides. Floor, too. Door, as well. With Sunstorm inside, it was one big oven. The only way to get him in there was for one of us to be used as bait.”

“So who played bait?” Rodimus asked, looking at the seeker with admiration.

“Me, of course. What, you think I would let Hotlink be prey to someone that thought he was an emissary of Primus?” Redwing retorted. “He was getting over the fact that he lost Sunstorm and Bitstream before I got him; he was not even close to be ready to be used as bait. That and he doesn’t have the same pain tolerance I do.”

“You told me not to jump to conclusions just a bit ago,” the Prime pointed out with a smirk.

“Just keep being stupid,” Redwing shrugged. “That’s how I get by.”

“Mhm. So you were used as bait. And?”

“So, we trapped Sunstorm and me in this mirror room. Door’s shut and locked. The only reason I survived is because I had recently refilled my coolant tank not moments before. I emptied my first load and threw it at Sunstorm when he broke into our suite looking for Hotlink. But I was in that room for… I have no idea how long. Sunstorm had perished long before I had, by his own hands, mind. And I was about ready to pass out. I think I did. It was several thousand degrees in that room. But when I had came to, I found Hotlink outside the door, coolant leaking from his optics.

“I couldn’t tell you the fleeting look of joy on his face when he saw me… or what was left of me,” Redwing continued. “But that’s when I learned something about him. See, Hotlink has always been a problem-solver. Which is good. We need more of those in the universe. But the one problem he can’t solve is the one that comes up when he loses someone he cares about. He had already lost two seekers he was trying to take care of, and he almost lost me. He’s afraid to lose any of us. It’s why he tolerates my stupid slag. Because he can’t bear the loss of those closest to him. Because the moment he loses family is the moment he’s really going to break.”

Rodimus listened to Redwing in silence, letting all the information sink in, then he nodded with understanding after a moment.

“Or I'm just looking into it too much and he hates me completely. Either way.” Redwing got up onto his feet and began to wobble after a few seconds of standing. “I think I need to go have a 72 hour power down. I have been working for a few days straight and I think it's now going to get me…”

Rodimus got up as well and tilted his head at him. “Do you need a lift?”

“No,” Redwing huffed petulantly. “I need a bed.”

The Autobot leader smirked at the tone. “Yes. A lift to bed.”

Redwing paused and thought for a second. “You know, that saying is a bit strange. Why would you have a lift to bed? Is your bed in the ceiling? Such a strange turn of a phrase.” Not even a second after finishing the thought, he fell over flat onto his face.

Rodimus knelt down, looking the seeker over. “Sooo, you can walk there on your own without falling over from exhaustion?”

“I thought I could,” Redwing replied, trying move his head so it wasn’t planted into the floor. “Now I don't think so.”

“Then allow me—” He moved to Redwing's side, gently turned him over and took hold of him, then abruptly heaved him into a bridal style grip. “—to give you a ride. Least I could do.”

“W-Well, at least you don't have to be so dramatic about it!” Redwing stuttered, trying to make a fuss out of it.

“Thought you like theatrics,” Rodimus chatted as he carried Redwing toward the red seeker's room.

“All I have been trying to do is state facts,” Redwing declared. “Not to be theatrical!”

“Redwing doesn’t like theater,” the Prime noted teasingly. “Got it.”

“Why are you putting words in my mouth? So rude."

Rodimus smirked, leaving that question unanswered. Upon reaching the desired room, he gently set Redwing down on his slab. “Rest easy,” the Prime bade.

“Leave!” Redwing demanded loudly. “I want to pass out!”

“So demanding." The Autobot leader winked at him, then turned and moved to leave the room.

“The fact you're just now figuring this out concerns me,” Redwing stated bluntly. “I've stated this several times.”

"Uhhhh huh,” Rodimus mused as he left the room.

Chapter Text

The day began relatively quietly. Everyone had been a little tired of the nonsense that Redwing was conjuring, and everyone just needed a break. However, now there was mostly silence, with everyone winding down and waiting to arrive at a colony world to re-supply their ship. That was, until there was a strange light accompanied by some beeping on the communications module.

Rodimus was the first to notice it. He entered the room and heard it immediately. He frowned with confusion at the communications module, clearly not expecting a call. “Sssstrange…" He turned to look at Hotlink, who was walking by with some tools. “Are we expecting any calls?”

Hotlink tilted his head at the question. “No,” He answered. “It’s not like we give this link away regularly.”

“Hm,” Rodimus hummed. “Alright, well, I’m answering it.” He walked over to the module and pressed the button to pick up the call.

A voice came through the speakers.

“H-Hello?” it asked, breaking through the comms. “Did someone answer?”

“This is Rodimus Prime. Who am I speaking with?”

“...Rodimus Prime… How interesting,” the voice mused. “My name is Transistor. I… represent a group of individuals that would would very much like to listen to you. To be honest, I didn't expect this call number to work.”

“This only brings up lots of questions,” the Prime admitted. “Maybe you should start from how you got the number.”

“I… felt prompted to try it. It just came to my mind,” Transistor responded. “It should also be mentioned that you and I have a mutual friend in common that you have onboard. I have a few things for him.”

Rodimus Prime squinted, confused by the statement and his suspicions only growing. “Excuse me? Who would this 'mutual friend' be?”

Transistor paused. “...As much as I want to say his name, it would cause a great deal of panic on my end if I did. But I will say, you know him for his… eccentric nature."

“That... does rings some bells…” Rodimus thought it over, weighing out the possible scenarios that could take place. “Okay, uh... Transistor. What are your coordinates?”

“I'm sending them to you now.” In a matter of mere seconds, the module pinged with the coordinates.

“Okay. I guess we'll see you soon, then,” he declared.

“Oh, I'm sure you will,” Transistor assured. The line clicked, and the communication was severed.

Rodimus stared down at the module in silence for a minute, reflecting on the bizarre exchange before using the comms module to call everyone on the ship. “Uh, meeting in the bridge. Everyone, please.”

“MEETING IN THE BRIDGE???” Redwing shouted from one of the vents. He then burst through the ceiling, in true Redwing fashion.

Sandstorm walked into the room with Alexis on his shoulder. His attention was quickly drawn to Redwing on the floor surrounded by debris, but he quickly chose to ignore the scene “...What's up?”

“Ha,” Redwing smirked. Alexis let out a giggle.

Hotlink trailed in last and sighed when he saw the mess Redwing made. “I just finished fixing that…” he lamented

“So... You know how I was asking about a call earlier?” Rodimus asked.

“Kinda,” Sandstorm shrugged.

“I wasn't paying attention,” Redwing admitted.

“Who was it?” Hotlink asked.

“Bot named Transistor,” Rodimus informed. “Said he just had a ‘prompting’ to call. I think he was calling for you.” He looked down to Redwing, who was still on the floor and looking up at the ceiling hole he made. “He said he had some things for you.”

Redwing hummed for a moment thinking about who it could be “…I feel like I should recognize the name…”

“I was kind of hoping you would know,” the Autobot admitted. “His request was innocent enough, but the circumstances are just plain creepy.”

“So what's the meeting for?” Hotlink asked.

“He wants us to come to him so I can deliver some positive speech to…” Rodimus paused, trying to recall if Transistor mentioned what the group he was representing was, and then realizing it wasn’t mentioned at all. “His guests or friends or something…” he guessed, “and raise their hopes. But I'm not sure we should go.”

“If they need you, you should go!” Alexis encouraged. “You'll help them feel better!”

“I remain skeptical of this situation and say let's not,” Hotlink declared.

“I say we go,” Redwing chirped. “If someone wants to give me something, who am I to say no?”

“Watch it be garbage,” Sandstorm smirked.

“NO!” Redwing wailed.

“That's two 'yes' and two ‘no’," Rodimus counted. “Sandstorm, your input?”

“Why am I the deciding factor?"

“It's your first step as a man,” Redwing answered.

Sandstorm turned and squinted down at Redwing. “Just because I want to see Redwing get betrayed, I say we go.”

“Ouch. I smell salt,” Redwing mused.

“Well, that settles that, then,” the Prime sighed. “Guess I'll need to break out my improv speech skills. He sent us the coordinates.”

Hotlink sighed and moved toward the ship's controls. “I'll throw them in the autopilot,” he volunteered.

“Yay!” Redwing cheered, bouncing up onto his feet. “Field trip! Field trip! Field trip!” This chanting kept going for several seconds while Redwing marched out the door, Sandstorm groaning while following him and hoping he won’t have to hear this much longer.

“They must be really sad,” Alexis commented. “I hope Rodimus can help."

Hotlink and Roddy threw a wary glance at each other. Hotlink then put the coordinates into the autopilot, the ship shifted its course, and they were on their way.

—<>—<>—

It was several hours before the ship came upon what looked like a giant orbital Autobot medical space station. The Autobot logo was plastered in red crosses all throughout the exterior of the ship. Almost as soon as the station came into view, everyone went to the bridge to see it out the viewport.

Redwing was the first to react to the station.

“Wait, nope. Wait, hold on. I have MANY concerns about this!” he declared.

“As do I,” Hotlink agreed. “We’re not going aboard.”

“Why not??” Alexis asked. “They're Autobots!”

“Unfortunately, that's the problem, Alexis,” Rodimus admitted.

“Are you sure the coordinates are here?” Sandstorm asked.

Redwing let out a whimper as he looked back out at the space station.

Rodimus Prime pulled out a datapad and connected to the comms module to double check what Transistor sent, looking the coordinates over several times. “It's what we got,” he informed. “That sure explains why Transistor wanted me to come give some inspirational talk, though.” He turned to the seekers. “We’re here now, so I'm going to have to go aboard, anyway. Needless to say, you all stay here.”

“Aw…” Alexis pouted.

“You've got to understand, kid,” Hotlink informed. “It's too dangerous for us. The Autobots may be good to humans and bots in general, but they're not kind to anyone wearing a Decepticon symbol.”

“But you're with Rodimus!” Alexis pointed out.

“Not every Autobot is as openminded as he is,” Hotlink lamented.

“This… is a medical facility, right?” Sandstorm asked. “That means they're more peaceful than most Autobots?”

“It depends on the type,” Redwing answered.

“Medics like First Aid? Absolutely,” Rodimus continued. “He's a pacifist. But medics like Ratchet?” He shuddered. “I've heard stories about that old crankshaft that had his old war buddies shivering. Don't underestimate medics. Mess with the wrong one, and you've just angered someone who knows the ins and outs of how your body works and reacts with certain things.”

“Yes. It's the medics that we have to worry about in this place,” Redwing commented flatly.

“So, stay here while you do your thing?” Sandstorm asked.

The Autobot nodded. “I shouldn't be long,” he assured. “You've got my comms if we need to bail. Redwing, I'll see what I can do about collecting those gifts for you.”

Redwing muttered something, then skulked away from the window, which only ensured that no one was able to understand what he was saying.

Sandstorm gave Rodimus a nod, then glanced over to Alexis. “So, what do you want to do now?”

“Do you guys have boardgames?” she asked.

“Not only do we have boardgames,” Redwing began, “we have puzzles… chess… cards… Um… I’ll have to look in the ceiling.”

“I like lots of games like those!” Alexis bounced, getting excited at the prospect of having something to do.

“Good. Let's find some.” With that, the red seeker wandered off somewhere.

“Good luck, Prime,” Hotlink wished.

“Thanks,” Rodimus replied. He waited for the ship to finish docking before heading to the entrance to step out.

The medical center was surprisingly clean, with one or two medics going about from place to place. every now and again. One of them paused when they saw Rodimus and just watched him go by. Some of them muttered to each other.

Rodimus ignored the staring and muttering. Just another day on Cybertron. He honestly wasn’t sure who or what he was looking for. The Chief of Staff's office, maybe. Yeah, maybe Transistor was the Chief Medic or something official like that. He had an office or something, surely?

Eventually, what looked like a reception desk came into view. Of course, someone was working it. But sitting next to that station was a cybertronian who was clearly blind. His optics were dark and the glass on it looked like it used to be a bright blue. Next to him was a bag that looked like it had something big and round inside.

‘It will have to do,’ Rodimus thought. He approached the desk and put on a pleasant smile. “Excuse me?”

The attendant looked up from his work, and when he saw Rodimus, his optics widened. “Oh, uh, Mr. Prime, sir,” he stuttered. This caught the attention of the blind cybertronian, who turned his head to hear the conversation.

“Hey, we're all friends here, right?? Rodimus is fine,” the Prime soothed. “I received a call from a bot who works here. His name is Transistor?”

The attendant’s face turned to one of confusion. “Transistor? No one by the name of Transistor works here. The only Transistor here is—" He paused, and gained a scowl on his face. He leaned over to peer at the blind cybertronian. “You seriously used a phone call to call THE PRIME?!?”

The blind cybertronian chuckled.

“Do you have any idea how BUSY he is??” the attendant continued.

Transistor got up off the bench. “Oh,” he mused. “You have no idea how true that's going to be.”

The attendant leaned back into his chair and rolled his optics. “Sorry about him. He's one of the longer inmates.”

Rodimus lightly chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “No no, it's alright,” he assured. “I was close by, so it's no trouble.” He moved over to Transistor. The bot didn’t look too threatening. No visor. No faceplate. Tires that indicate an alt-mode. He just looked like a simple Autobot, who obviously couldn’t see, and was a little on the unkempt side, his blue and grey armor bearing a spot or two of dirt here and there. “So you want me to perk up everyone's spirits?”

“Give it five seconds,” Transistor grimaced. “Someone else is going to.”

A white and grey Autobot with a cane came around the corner. This one wasn’t wearing a visor or a faceplate like Transistor, but unlike Transistor, this Autobot looked very well kept and clean. He caught sight of Rodimus Prime and immediately grew a big smile, approaching the two with great eagerness.

Rodimus turned his head as he caught the movement in his peripheral, and gave the approaching bot a smile. “Hey there!”

“Rodimus Prime!” the new Autobot greeted. “A pleasure, a pleasure!” He grabbed Rodimus' hand and shook it with much enthusiasm. “I'm surprised you're here. Come! Come! I'm sure people here will want to meet you.” He motioned down the hall he just came from, encouraging the leader to enter deeper into the facility.

Rodimus let out a laugh. “Well, since you insist!” Charmed instantly, he headed further in with the white autobot.

Transistor let out a weary sigh as he heard the two walk away. He then looked up at the ceiling with a look of pleading on his face. “I'm trying, Trion. I really am.”

“Mind if I ask you some questions as we go?” the Autobot commander asked.

“Certainly! I will answer any and all questions I am able!”

“So I get that this is a medical facility, but what is this specific one equipped and used for? Is it just a generic hospital or is there a bit more to it?”

“Ah,” the Autobot nodded. “See, this is a mental rehabilitation center. Many of the inmates here have some form of cerebral trauma.”

Rodimus gained a sympathetic expression, understanding who his audience is for the first time. “Ah... So they need all the morale boosts they can get, huh?”

“Yes,” the autobot confirmed. “Especially since they encountered… him."

An inmate ran up to the Autobot accompanying Rodimus, a look of complete glee and anticipation covering his face. "Papa Sprocket, Papa Sprocket!” he called. “Look! I made a compilation of your teaching!” He held up a binding of plates, eager for Sprocket to see.

“Aw, that's sweet,” Sprocket smiled.

Rodimus turned his attention to the inmate and tilted his head out of curiosity. “You must really admire him, huh? What types of things does Sprocket teach?”

“Oh, he's so wise!” the inmate swooned. “He's one of the survivors of the Crimson Scourge!”

“Shhhhhh!” Sprocket hissed. “We don't want to summon the demon.” He began to look around with a bit of paranoia in his eyes. “He can hear us from everywhere.”

The inmate’s optics widened as he nodded with realization. “Ohhh... yeah. Sorry.”

“I'm sorry, but I have to ask,” Rodimus Prime interrupted. “Who are you talking about? Who is this ‘Crimson Scourge’?”

Sprocket and the inmate shuddered, making triangular touching points on their foreheads and chests, in what could only be assumed to be was their spark, transformation cog, and brain, muttering something that couldn’t be heard.

Sprocket finished before the other inmate did and he motioned for the inmate to depart. “Continue with your sessions,” Sprocket instructed. “I'll be with Rodimus for a moment.” The inmate nodded and scampered off, leaving the two alone.

Sprocket pulled Rodimus off to the side, away from any noticeable groups of people. “So…” Sprocket said in a hushed tone. “The Crimson Scourge is the name of a massacre that took place in the early days of the war. I'm one of the few survivors.”

“Ah…” Rodimus realized. “I’m… sorry for the insensitivity."

“Nah, it's not a problem.” Sprocket waved. “It's not like he's here to do it again.” The mech then beamed up at the Prime. “Besides, if he does show up, we have you here to protect us.”

“R-Right.” The Autobot leader was caught off guard by his statement. “...And... who would 'he' be?”

Sprocket took several intakes and touched himself in the triangular motion like earlier. “He… He he he he…” the old mech stuttered as he talked which was making it hard to tell if he was trying to calm down or if he was on the verge of freaking out. Eventually, he calmed down enough to speak coherently.

“Okay,” Sprocket continued. “'He' is known by many names. Sword and gun hold no sway on him. To me, and most people here, we know him as…” He took a look around with paranoid optics, then leaned into Rodimus' audio receptor. The old mech looked around nervously once again before he whispered the name to Rodimus. “The Red Baron of Death.” He retreated, recoiling into himself and went back to the triangular motions.

Rodimus stared at Sprocket with growing concern, highly tempted to turn right around and leave. It was a good thing the others were back on the ship and not in the facility with him. Who knew what would have happened if these people saw Decepticons running around. “…Okay… I think I'm done with questions... No offense, but they just... seem to make you nervous.”

“Well, everyone here would have the same reaction,” Sprocket began. The sound of a walking stick distracted him for a second. He turned to see Transistor walking into the room and shot the blind bot a nasty glare. “Perhaps… almost everyone,” he snarled.

A couple of inmates snuck up on Transistor, then kicked him in the legs and pushed him over, kicking his walking stick away before scampering off in the direction Rodimus and Sprocket came from.

Rodimus caught this and scowled, completely appalled by the behavior he just saw. “Wh—?! Hey!” he yelled, jogging over to Transistor and kneeling to help him. “Primus, what jerks!” the Prime commented gruffly. He gave the blind mech a once-over. “Are you okay?”

All Transistor did was chuckle. “I should probably ask that of you. For someone who's supposed to light our darkest hour, you sound like your light is wanting.”

Rodimus blinked and stared at him, not sure whether he wanted to confirm or deny it, or question how Transistor could even tell. “Huh…?”

Sprocket rolled his optics and walked over to Rodimus. “Don't waste your time with him.” He stared Transistor down with a glare. “He speaks in riddles.”

“It's only a riddle for the person it isn't intended for,” Transistor remarked.

Sprocket gave him another scowl and rolled his optics.

Rodimus threw a glance at Sprocket, then leaned in to whisper to Transistor. “Is it that easy to tell…?”

Transistor slowly got up onto his feet. “I see with no optics more than most people can with two.” Another inmate came over and picked up the walking stick, then went over to Transistor to hand it to him. Transistor took it with a nod. “Thank you.”

Sprocket shot the inmate a sharp scowl, and the inmate recoiled and ran away.

Transistor righted himself and got himself dusted off. “So it depends on what you mean by, 'easy to tell’,” he continued.

The Prime got to his feet and hummed with troubled thought. “Mm... I guess so.”

“Oh, never you mind him!” Sprocket snarled, trying to pull Rodimus away. “He'll only talk to you about 'why the universe came to be', or 'why Unicron wasn't our darkest hour'. Some nonsense that is impossible for him to know.”

Transistor sighed and shook his head at Sprocket’s comment. “Through normal means…” he muttered.

Rodimus frowned as Sprocket dragged him away and decided to voice the question running through his head. “Wouldn't you like to know, though? It sounds to me like it'd be an interesting philosophical discussion.”

“He is NOT one of us!” Sprocket barked. “He cannot possibly understand what we've been through.”

“If he's not one of you, then who is he?”

“I… I don't know.” Sprocket paused for a brief moment before continuing, “But he doesn't belong here! That's what matters!” After his declaration, he let out a long sigh. “But I digress. Let me gather my friends together. I'm sure they will want to meet you.”

“Yeah, you do that,” the commander muttered with a low tone. He glanced over his shoulder at where they left Transistor, and chills began to run down his spinal strut. Where Transistor once was, there was only emptiness. Rodimus took a quick scan of the room and couldn’t see the blind cybertronian anywhere. This place and its residents… They were seriously starting to give him the creeps. Like something out of a horror movie.

Sprocket continued to lead Rodimus through the halls of the institution and eventually brought him into a big auditorium with empty chairs that seemed to be waiting for people to sit in them. The stage was already lit, or maybe it’s always lit. Rodimus didn’t know.

“Ah, here we are.” Sprocket smiled and turned, motioning for the Prime to go on stage. “If you want to pull up a seat onto the stage, I'll get everyone gathered.”

The Matrix-bearer nodded and made his way onto the lit stage, leaving Sprocket to go get attendees. He looked around for a chair, finding a foldable one hiding behind a couple curtains. He proceeded to grab and unfold it, having a seat and reflecting on his time here so far.

——

The two inmates from earlier didn't stop their mischief at harassing Transistor. They had snuck by some of the staff working at the station and were now snooping around the docking bay where all of the ships were. They were busy causing minor inconveniences for other ships when one of them spotted the ship Rodimus was traveling in.

“Hey, that's the Prime's ship!” one of them whispered, worried that they’d get caught by any listening ears.

The second inmate looked at the ship with awe. “How much you wanna bet there's some nice goodies in there?”

“Dude!” the first inmate exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement. “I bet he has so many shiny things! Let's go!” He rushed ahead, leading the way to the ship.

The seekers on the ship were busy with whatever they could find while waiting for Rodimus to be done with his speech. Hotlink was in his workspace, fiddling with Heartburn and Heatstroke, making sure their internal mechanisms were functioning properly, and Alexis was playing a board game with Sandstorm and Redwing.

“Hey! You cheated!” Redwing shouted.

Alexis shook her head. “Nuh uh! You're just a sore loser!"

“I'm not a sore loser!” he corrected. “Just a loser!”

“Darn right! And I'm a winner!” she grinned at him.

The red seeker gave the little girl a playful scowl. “You know what I think; I think I need some sadness juice. I'll be right back.” He got up off the floor and went out into the hall to get whatever the heck sadness juice was, but paused when he saw the two inmates.

Redwing appearing in the halls automatically got the two inmates’ attention. Both sides seized, watching and waiting to see what the other would do for what seems like hours. Eventually, the first inmate registered what he was seeing.

“R-R-R-Red Baron,” he stuttered.

“Okay, I know you're going to freak out in a second,” Redwing said, trying to assure the two.

“Red Baron. Red Baron!”

“See, you're freaking out,” he informed, pointing at the two. “Stop freaking out.”

The second inmate screamed, as if seeing his worst nightmare. He then quickly grabbed his friend's arm and bolted back out of the ship, screaming at the top of his voice box and dragging his friend with him. “It's the Red Baron!!”

This got the attention of everyone on board. Hotlink jumped from all the shrieking and quickly rushed to the doorway, trying to catch what was happening. Alexis and Sandstorm came out into the hall, too. The little girl glanced up at Sandstorm with confusion and worry, while the conehead tilted his head with confusion.

“Redwing, what the hell was that?” Hotlink asked.

“Umm… So we might be in trouble…” Redwing admitted sheepishly.

“Redwing. What was that?” Sandstorm repeated.

“Some Autobots snuck on the ship and started screaming about a 'Red Baron’.” Hotlink stated. “I assume they mean you.” He threw a squint at his eccentric trinemate, who continued to look at his two trinemates with that annoying look on his faceplate.

“I have no idea what they're talking about,” Redwing declared.

“Mhm... Liar.” Hotlink moved over to the ship’s entrance to lock it, preventing any one else to come inside.

“I wish I was lying,” Redwing retorted. “Then I could get us out of this at some random juncture.”

——

The Auditorium slowly began to fill up with members of the facility. It would seem that both inmates and doctors wanted to hear what Rodimus had to say. Rodimus watched from on stage as more and more bots came in and began to fill up the auditorium. Some of them whispered to each other with glee as they saw the Autobot commander. He gave them a nod and a smile in return, causing them to get visibly excited.

He was soon in awe at the sheer amount of people that had gathered in the auditorium. He could only assume the place was almost full, seeing as there were hardly any open chairs visible. Rodimus couldn’t help but be amazed that there were so many people in this place. It was both flattering and nerve-wracking to see them all genuinely coming to hear him speak. And it was at this point that Rodimus remembered that he was supposed to give some sort of speech to them and had to think about what he was going to say.

Sprocket could eventually be seen in the back, closing the doors, signaling that everyone that was supposed to be in the auditorium was finally in. He then made his way down the belt leading to the stage itself. He had paused every now and again, making small talk with some of the patrons that were seated. Eventually, Sprocket was able to make his way onto the shelf. He took one look at the crowd and smiled, reaching his arms up in a welcoming manner.

“Brothers and sisters!” he greeted. “We are blessed this glorious day! Today, we have a Prime amongst us! A leader among leaders. The light in our darkest hour. The savior of Cybertron! Our home!”

The crowd hummed with “oohs” and “aahs” as they all got excited from listening to Sprocket’s introduction. Many of them turned to whisper to each other and theorize what Rodimus was going to talk to them about.

And all of that was quickly interrupted by two more inmates bursting through the auditorium doors. They were clearly scared, with panicked looks on their face, and panting to try and cool their internals down. One of them was yelling something incomprehensible. The second had a message that was clear.

“Red—!! Red Baron…!!” he cried. “Red Baron!! On the Prime's ship!!” He pointed back at the door they just came through.

The room fell silent. The air was ripe with anxiety and fear. Everyone in the room turned to face the stage that Sprocket and Rodimus were standing on. Even Sprocket had frozen up with fear, his optics wide, making it unclear what was going through his mind.

“Wh-What?” Rodimus sat up to attention, almost out of his seat, trying to comprehend the situation with his mouth agape and figure out a way to calm the crowd.

“H-H-He looked at us with his OPTICS!” the first intruder shouted. “His cold calculating optics!”

Rodimus got to his feet and projected his voice to try and get everyone’s attention. “Everyone, please remain calm. I promise you, there are no threats to your wellbeing onboard my ship.” It was a true statement, Rodimus was certain that none of the seekers onboard his ship was out to get any of them.

“He's going to kill us all!!” the second inmate screamed.

“Nobody is going to kill you,” Rodimus assured firmly. It was becoming more and more clear that he would have to defuse the situation quickly before someone did something—

“BROTHERS! SISTERS!” Sprocket shouted, which caught everyone’s attention. “Fear not! We can apprehend this beast! We don't have to wait for him to make the first strike! We can strike first!”

Rodimus spark skipped a pulse as soon as he heard where this was going. “No! Better idea!” he interjected. “Let’s all just sit here and calm down, please! They could have just thought they saw what they did!”

It was becoming more and more apparent that the audience wasn’t listening to Rodimus anymore. Some of the members of the audience began to rise up out of their seats and shuffle to leave. Rodimus jumped off the stage and rushed past them to go stand in the way of the door, hoping to prevent them from leaving. Given these inmates reaction, they were probably going to do something horrible to the seekers onboard his ship. As he looked at the now growing and oncoming horde, he tries to think of something, ANYTHING, to calm these people down…

Someone grabbed him by the wing and yanked him out of the way. Something that Rodimus wasn’t fond of, seeing that it was actually quite painful to be grabbed in that area. But that was something for later. He looked to see who grabbed him, and was surprised to see it was Transistor who pulled him out of the way of the horde.

Transistor spoke before the commander had a chance to object. “Don’t. Think this through. Listen to them. Their tone of voice. They are beyond reasoning now. They are only filled with fear.”

From where the leader was, he could see the crowd beginning to pour out of the auditorium. Amongst the grunts and murmurings of the inmates, several doctors and nurses could be heard in protest. Some of the nurses screamed, but soon those screams fell silent. Rodimus glanced between the escaping horde and Transistor.

“I can't just let them attack those Cons!” Rodimus protested. “They're runaways! I promised them protection!”

“You may be a Prime. But these Autobots…” Transistor motioned to the crowd, his face expressing signs of worry. “Their fear will overpower you.”

“There's got to be some way to keep them out of harm's way…!” he pleaded. "I know these bots are scared and have been traumatized by whatever Redwing did, but—!” Rodimus struggled to find the words he was looking for. “Primus, why did you invite us here when you knew this could happen?!”

“I was hoping this wasn't going to happen,” Transistor admitted. “I won't control the actions of everyone here. That would eliminate the possibility of choice, and that's the last thing these people want.”

“So you tempt fate, then expect me to just stand here and accept that those Cons are going to die?!”

Transistor hesitated, biting his bottom lip, and began to consider his options. "Not… all actions need to be immediate,” he answered slowly. “And not all solutions are the most effective when we want them to be.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Rodimus rasped wearily. “We wait, then what?”

“I… don't know yet.”

Rodimus squirmed with anticipation and anxiety as he threw a glance at where everyone went, worried about the seekers now more than ever. “Nngh… Well, think fast…”

——

The sound of an angry mob began to draw closer to the ship. As Hotlink was closing the door, he could feel the footsteps of hundreds of cybertronians coming closer. Something that probably would have been cool in any other situation, but for this one… it was terrifying, and Hotlink had an idea of what these inmates wanted to do to him and his trinemates.

“Sandstorm, hide the kid!” Hotlink ordered, pointing at the conehead.

“Why?” Alexis whimpered, her face filled with worry as she looked up at Sandstorm. “What's happening?”

“Quickly!” Hotlink emphasized before darting away to put Heartburn and Heatstroke away properly.

Sandstorm did as he was told, scooping up Alexis and moving her out of plain sight and off the floor. “Stay here,” he ordered. She nodded and obediently got behind some larger objects as cover.

The exterior ship walls started to rattle and bang, presumably from people outside trying to get in. Redwing, of course, got closer to the source of the noises while Hotlink and Sandstorm both looked at each other anxiously.

“Hmmm…” Redwing nodded. “Yep. I'm in danger.”

Hotlink turned and headed to the bridge, hoping to be able to move the ship to get away from whoever was banging on the outside, but eventually found the controls unresponsive… and locked. His face filled with rage at the discovery. “WHO THE SLAG LOCKED THE CONTROLS?!” he bellowed.

“Did Rodimus do that AGAIN?!?” Sandstorm panicked.

Redwing began to listen to the tapping and banging that came from the outside of the ship. He had found some sort of pattern to them and began tapping it back at first, then banging it back to them. Hotlink heard this and peaked outside the control room to investigate what was banging inside the ship, only to be horrified at Redwing banging on the walls.

“Redwing, quit antagonizing them!!” Hotlink shouted.

Redwing turned and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, what do you suggest I do?”

“Make them go away somehow!”

“Alrighty.” He went over to the main door and opened it. What was once an angry crowd turned into about a hundred pairs of optics that widened and stared at him. Everyone outside the ship fell silent when they saw him. “Excuse me. But all of you are making too much noise.” He then waved his hands at them. “Go away.”

“WHAT THE FRAG, REDWING!?!” Sandstorm blurted out shrilly.

“SHUT THE DOOR, YOU MANIAC!!” Hotlink shouted with desperation.

Some of the inmates snapped out of their bewilderment and started to charge at Redwing. This triggered the rest of the crowd to go back into motion and swarm the ship, some of them screaming as they went. The crowd didn’t stop at Redwing, though. They even went after Hotlink and Sandstorm. If any of the mob did see Alexis, they paid her no mind.

“Get off me!” Sandstorm shouted as he struggled to get out of the mob’s grasp. From seemingly out of nowhere, rope was produced and the trine proceeded to be tied up, despite their efforts to escape.

“Redwing, whatever you did, FIX IT!!” Hotlink demanded, trying his best not to get trussed up. His hopes were quickly dashed as he looked over at Redwing, who clearly wasn’t struggling at all.

It only took a few minutes for the mob to fully bind the trine. Some of the inmates even found polls to tie them onto, which probably was better than being dragged on the ground. Once all three of the seekers were restrained, the mob carried them out of the ship and back to the auditorium.

“So… um… I may have fragged up…” Redwing admitted sheepishly for the second time that day.

“OH REALLY??” Sandstorm retorted. He began to work at his bindings to see if he could get out of them early.

“Was us being tied up by an angry mob of Autobots your first clue?!” Hotlink hissed.

“No, it was the medical facility,” Redwing informed. “Good rule of thumb is 'never go inside if you personally put someone there’."

“Who did you put in here?!” Hotlink asked.

“It is… entirely possible I put everyone in all of them,” Redwing admitted again.

Eventually, Sandstorm stopped working at the binds. He glared at Redwing. “I should probably say that I don't believe you, but we're being dragged away by an angry mob.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Hotlink added.

“At least you’re being honest about it,” Redwing beamed.

—-

It was a silent few moments in the auditorium before one of the inmates came back in, panic still written on his face. He looked up at Sprocket with desperation. “WE HAVE THE BARON!” he exclaimed, looking for any direction on what to do next. “H-How will we kill him?!?”

Sprocket looked at the inmate with terror in his optics, and he stuttered for a second before he came up with the answer. “W-W-We kill him with FIRE!!!” His optics glistened with insanity now, and a smile begins to grow on his faceplate. “Yes! Sword and gun hold no weight, but FIRE will kill him! Burn the Baron!” He motioned for the inmate to bring the Red Baron in, who went to do as he was directed.

This statement from Sprocket was very alarming to Rodimus, who looked to Transistor and gestured to the cybertronian directing this nightmare. Transistor, on the other hand, remained silent and motionless. The Prime knew he was blind, but he wanted something, ANYTHING. Transistor was, after all, the one that invited Rodimus and the seekers here.

The Autobot leader soon had his attention drawn to the mob beginning to pile back into the auditorium. Even more alarming than Sprocket was the fact that some of the inmates were proceeding to gather burnable materials and pile them together. Eventually, the seekers were dragged in, still strapped to the polls. Sandstorm had just given up trying to get out, while Hotlink’s face was covered in existential dread. And of course, Redwing didn’t seem to mind what was happening.

“Oh hey, Rodimus!” Redwing called. “Are you enjoying your stay?” Transistor shuttered at the sound of Redwing’s voice.

Hotlink and Sandstorm perked up when they heard Redwing call to their shipmate. "Rodimus, DO something!!” Hotlink pleaded.

“I've been trying!!” Rodimus answered. “They won't listen to me!!”

The seekers were brought to the stage where the inmates had gathered a bunch of burnable materials. The seekers were able to finally see it when they were turned to face the pile. Hotlink and Sandstorm’s optics widened with terror.

Redwing let out an audible gasp. “Ooh. A burning,” he exclaimed with a strange amount of enthusiasm. “I don't think I've experienced this before. I mean, I've burned myself, but never to death.”

“Sandstorm, I am so... so sorry you got stuck with us…” Hotlink apologized.

“I can't believe it…” Sandstorm shook his head at the piles. “Is… Is this how I am going to die?”

Sprocket gained a look on his face. It was hard to describe just what type of face it truly was. It was like a mix of fear, insanity, and joy all rolled into one expression. It was horrifying to look at, but entrancing at the same time.

“B-Brothers! Sisters!” Sprocket called. “We have our most dangerous enemy at our MERCY! Surely the power of Primus is upon us this day!” He gestured to both the mob and the seekers.

Transistor’s head suddenly lifted up, as if he got an idea. The old mech smirked and reached into his subspace for something.

Rodimus continued to watch as the seekers were placed onto the pile. He’d forgotten about Transistor at this point. Watching the scene on stage with his mouth agape and optics as wide as they could go, the feeling of dread and horror flowing through his entire being. He kept scanning the audience every moment he could to see if there was a way to get through to the stage, but only to find that the mob had blocked every logical access point imaginable.

“Look, you can burn me and Redwing, but let Sandstorm go!” Hotlink begged of the orchestrator of this event. “He's done nothing wrong!”

“He and his servants will perish in the flames of justice!” Sprocket continued, ignoring the purple seeker’s request. He motioned to a couple of inmates who had made torches, somehow. “LIGHT THE FIRE!” He spun around to face the burn pile. “Justice will finally be served!”

The crowd cheered and applauded his words as one of the torchbearers begun to approach the pile. He knelt down and slowly brought the torch closer and closer to the pile.

And then Sandstorm suddenly fell through a portal that appears directly underneath him, sucking him in and away from the pile. A small yelp could be heard coming from him as he went through. Once Sandstorm was fully through, the portal shut. The torchbearer had jumped back with surprise on his face. The other two seekers look at where their trinemate had with surprise, intrigue, and shock. The audience fell silent, while some let out an audible gasp of shock.

“Nani?” Redwing asked.

Sprocket did not take this new turn of events with much enthusiasm. his optics widened and began to fill with astonishment. “L-Light it! Light it QUICKLY!” the crazed mech screeched. The torchbearer shook himself from the astonishment of the sudden disappearance and lit the pile.

This did little good as another portal appeared underneath Hotlink and he fell through, as well. Some of the audience members started to scream, while others continued to stand and stare in horrified shock.

Redwing looked back and forth between the two spots where his trinemates were. He then shrugged and threw his head up to yell at the ceiling. “Oh, ye dark mind of the dark void!” he begun to chant. “Come hither to claim mine soul, and—” A portal appeared under him, both cutting off his sentence and getting him to safety. All that remained was a burning fire with no seekers attached to it.

Rodimus blinked as he saw all of this taking place. He was glad that something was happening now, and that the seekers were out of harm’s way. He released a small breath of relief, but now he had to go find where they went. He looked over at Transistor, who was putting a black cube back into his subspace, and slowly making his way out of the auditorium.

The Matrix-bearer chased the older mech out of the room while hearing the screams and complaints of the inmates now that the people they wanted to burn were no longer there. “Where did they go?!?!” some screamed. “The Red Baron and his followers were swallowed by a void!” others called. Rodimus didn’t care about what these people were screaming about anymore. He was, however, curious as to what Transistor did with the trine. Rodimus eventually caught up with the blind cybertronian.

“Well, now I'm glad I waited.” Transistor smiled back at Rodimus.

“Yeah, me too,” Rodimus added. “Where did you send them?”

“Not far,” Transistor assured. “They’re back on your ship. I'm certain it's somewhere no one would think to look.”

The Prime let out another sigh of relief. It was good to hear that they were officially safe and sound. “Thanks, Transistor. I hope you don't mind our not sticking around after this.” He grimaced at some of the injured and dead nurses as the two strode down the halls. “I'll contact Ultra Magnus and see what we can do to get some more nurses and security stationed here.”

“I wouldn't worry about it too much,” Transistor waved. “I'm not sure that more security is what we need.” He walked toward a nearby chair and grabbed the circular bag he was carrying earlier.

“I want to make sure you get more nurses, at the very least.” Rodimus glanced at the bag. “That for our eccentric friend?”

“It is,” the old bot nodded. He pauses for a bit before he continued. “Let's just hope I don't freak out too.” He resumed making his way towards the ship.

“So he's even affected you, huh?” the young bot asked.

Transistor took a big intake before he answered. “I… Yes. He is something to remember… He's the reason why I'm blind. He used a catapult and a guided missile, if I’m remembering that day correctly…”

“...I'm almost afraid to ask what he did with those.”

“If… I remember correctly,” Transistor recalled. “He destroyed our base with the catapult and got it inside our base with a guided missile. I… tried to stop him with something I shouldn't have…”

“I'm so sorry…” Rodimus thought about it for a minute. “Then... why are you helping him?”

“I...have a promise to keep to an old friend.” Transistor responded as he held up the bag for the leader to see. “He sent this to me and wanted me to give it to our friend.”

“That's big of you,” Rodimus praised. “I appreciate it, Transistor. Thank you.”

The two eventually got to the ship. From the Prime’s perspective, the damage didn’t look all that bad. Maybe just a few scratches on the paint job, and that was something that he could live with. He entered the ship and begun to look around for where the seekers could be.

“Guys?” he called, looking in each of the room that he passed.

“In here, Rodimus,” Hotlink answered. It sounded like in the control room. Rodimus rushed there to see the three seekers all piled on top of each other. Sandstorm was on the bottom, with Hotlink kind of on top of him, both of them facing upward. Redwing had rolled off the top, and was found face first in the floor. It looks like he had plenty of room to move his face, but only he could answer why it was still there.

“I'm so sorry you all got caught in this mess,” Rodimus apologized. He went went over to them, knelt down, and started working on Sandstorm’s bindings. Whoever made the knots was too darn good at it. He looked at each of the seekers. “Are you guys okay?”

“Just. Fine,” Sandstorm muttered through gritted teeth.

Redwing tried to speak when he heard Rodimus, but since his face was in the floor, so it came out muffled and which made it hard to make out what he was saying.

Transistor eventually showed up in the doorway of the control room and listened to what was happening. Though he froze when he heard Redwing’s muffled attempts at speech.

“We can't understand you, Redwing,” Hotlink informed tersely.

Rodimus finally got one of the knots on Sandstorm undone and he was finally free. He then went over to Redwing and turned him over. “Repeat that?” he asked. The Autobot then got to work on Hotlink’s bindings. “Primus, they really made these tight…"

“Yeah, it hurts,” Hotlink added.

“OH, WO IS ME!” Redwing yelled. “I HAVE NO FUR! THIS IS A TRAVESTY!”

“...He's… just as I remember,” Transistor commented.

“Oh, you've dealt with him before?” Sandstorm asked while rubbing the sore spots where the ropes had been. “How do you shut him up?”

“See, when I tried, I became blind,” Transistor mentioned.

“Oh…”

Hotlink rolled his optics at Redwing’s dramatic yelling. “Flip him back over and leave him,” he suggested.

“No can do,” Rodimus grunted while pulling the knot. "Transistor has presents for him. “

“He doesn't deserve them!” Hotlink declared.

“Presents!” Redwing perked up. “I like presents! Are they wrapped up in a pretty little white bow?”

“No,” Transistor answered.

Redwing somehow looked over at Transistor, eyeing him over and clearly seeing the bag. “...Are you sure? There could be a bow on them and you wouldn't know.”

“REDWING! RUDE!” Sandstorm reprimanded.

“It's true though!” Redwing defended.

Rodimus finally got the knot undone for Hotlink, who was eager to get out of his bindings. Once he was free, Hotlink kicked the stick he was trussed to to get a bit of frustration out.

Rodimus then began to work on Redwing’s bindings, but he also turned his head to look at Sandstorm. There was, after all, one more person to look out for. “Sandstorm, is Alexis okay?" he asked of the conehead.

“Let me go check,” he answered. He left the control room to go to the spot where he hid his daughter. “Alexis?”

Alexis heard Sandstorm calling and got to her feet. She poked her head out of her hiding place and stared up at him with deep concern and relief. “You're okay!” she exclaimed as she came out even more to greet her father. “There was so much shouting! I thought... something really bad happened to you…”

“I thought so, too,” Sandstorm nodded. He lowered his hand to to pick Alexis up. “But we got out of it… somehow.”

Alexis crawled onto Sandstorm’s palm and settled in his hand, then she looked up at him, still with a bit of worry in her eyes. “Can we leave?”

“Just as soon as Rodimus unlocks the controls,” Sandstorm answered. He then raised his hand so Alexis could sit on his shoulder.

While all of this was going on, Transistor stood there, waiting patiently for Rodimus to be done. Eventually, after standing so long in silence, he spoke up and asked the tied up seeker, “So… um… How have you been?”

“I dunno,” Redwing shrugged. “I got tied up! Almost got burned to death. So pretty good, all things considered.”

Rodimus would have been participating more in the conversation, but this darn knot was giving him such a rough time. He muttered a curse and leaned down to pull at the knot with his teeth. Redwing didn’t seem to mind this and continued with this conversation.

“So, who are you? And why do you know me?” Redwing asked, tilting his head to the side… and hitting it against the ground.

“You dropped a catapult in front of me,” Transistor replied flatly.

Redwing just stared at him, clearly drawing a blank at the sentence.

“And blinded me,” Transistor continued.

Redwing continued to stare blankly.

“You and Alpha Trion talked to me for hours about… things.”

Redwing’s optics widened with realization and excitement. “OH, YOU!”

Hotlink rolled his optics at Redwing and moved over to the control console. “Rodimus,” he called, “get over here and unlock the fragging controls.”

“Oh shoot— Sorry!” Rodimus made one last pull at the knot and finally it came undone. Redwing burst free from his bonds and rushes up to Transistor. Rodimus, on the other hand, went over to the controls to unlock them.

Before Rodimus was able to do so, Hotlink gave a smack the back of the Autobot’s head. Not too hard, but hard enough to get the message ‘Don’t ever lock the controls again,’ across to the Prime.

“I deserve that,” was the only response Rodimus could come up with for the situation.

“So what presents do you have for me?” Redwing asked.

Transistor held out the bag. Although his arm was a little shaky and he seemed to be trying to back away from the red seeker.

“Ooooooh!” Redwing cooed with glee. He took the bag and opened it up to see what was inside. “Now, let's see what it—” He paused and fell silent when he looked in the bag. Whatever smirk or smile Redwing had on his face faded almost instantly when he saw the contents inside. He looked back and forth between the contents of the bag and Transistor. “But— But this is… This belongs to… Wha…” he stammered, trying to come up with the words he wants to say.

Transistor said nothing, but he reached into his subspace and pulled out a letter, holding it out to Redwing.

The red seeker set the bag down gently and took the letter, opening it up and began reading. There was a few minutes of silence as he was reading. One could tell he read certain parts of the letter over and over again, though it doesn’t seem to be doing him any good. As he was reading, fluid started to leak from his optics. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable.

Rodimus finished with unlocking the controls, then turned to see Redwing. Pangs of sympathy shot through his spark as he saw the lubricant falling from the eccentric seeker’s optics.

Hotlink wasn’t really paying the situation any mind. His priorities were on getting the ship up and running so they all could leave. Eventually, the ship’s engines began to kick up, and the whir of the engines could be heard.

It took Redwing a minute or two before he was done reading. He then redirected his attention to Transistor. “So… h-he's gone?” Redwing stammered.

Transistor gave him a nod of confirmation.

Redwing fell silent again, going back to re-reading the letter multiple times before dropping his arms to his sides. He looked at Transistor once again. “Can… Can I hug you?” he asked.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” Transistor answered. “I'm still terrified of you.”

“Eh, that's fair,” Redwing nodded.

“Probably best you leave now,” Hotlink suggested. “I don't want to stay any longer than necessary.”

“Do you need a hug, Redwing?” Rodimus asked.

Redwing hesitated, but eventually he gave in and nodded. Rodimus approached Redwing and embraced him in a nice warm hug, to which the seeker leaned in a little.

“Daaaawww, how sweet,” Hotlink half-mocked, watching the situation with a straight face.

“Shut up,” Redwing retorted.

“Before you go,” Transistor mentioned, “there are a couple of other things I borrowed that you might need.” He reached into his subspace and pulled out the teleportation cube. He then took off a pair of headphones and undid the wire that he hid under his armor plating, connecting it to a box onto his belt, all of it looked like it was a part of his armor. He then offered the items to Redwing. “You'll probably need these.”

Redwing turned from Rodimus’ embrace and spotted the presented cube and cassette player. His optics widened with excitement again. “Oooooh! I haven't seen those things in ages!”

Rodimus released Redwing from his grasp, allowing him to go and get the items. He watched as his friend took them and picked up the bag with glee. At least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“Thank you, mystery blind man.” Redwing smiled at the old mech.

Transistor gave him a nod before turning and walking out of the ship as fast as a blind man could. He passed Sandstorm and Alexis, who were making their way back to the control room to rejoin everyone else.

Hotlink waits until the old Autobot had left the ship. Once he was out, Hotlink shut the door and called out, “We're leaving!” He then had the ship pull away from the med station and zip away from this nightmare of a place.

“You know what?” Rodimus thought aloud. “Let's just... find a nice colony to land on and chill out for a while.”

“I'm not arguing with that,” Sandstorm agreed.

“I have a new rule!” Redwing declared. “No one is to go into my closet!”

“What?” Sandstorm looked at him with confusion. “That's the only rule you've made!”

“I know what I said.”

“The phrasing is correct, Sandstorm,” Hotlink assured. “Though I have to ask why?”

“Because,” Redwing answered.

Sandstorm and Hotlink exchanged looks before turning back at Redwing.

“…Because why??” Sandstorm asked.

“Because you're… not ready.” Redwing answered, half-heartedly.

“Ready for what??”

Sandstorm didn’t get an answer, seeing as Redwing scampered out of the control room, leaving everyone to question what he was doing now.

“I'll beat him in his charging cycle,” Hotlink muttered, going back to the controls.

“Hotlink, maybe you should get some sleep?” Rodimus suggested. “I'll fly.”

“Why?” Hotlink snapped, shooting him a glare. “So you can lock the controls again? Everyone off my bridge,” he demanded, pointing towards the door.

Even though Rodimus had been with these seekers for only a few weeks, he knew it wasn’t best to question Hotlink when he was in this kind of mood. He raised his hands defensively and left the control room.

Sandstorm followed Rodimus and left the bridge as quickly as he could. “Geez… Harsh much?” he muttered.

——

As everyone was flying away from the station Transistor was making his way back to his hab-suite. But he was forced to pause when all the lights in the facility went out, and a sinister, raspy, snake-like laugh echoed through the building.

“Ah…” Transistor realized, his spark turning cold. “So this is how I die…”

Chapter Text

Theatricus Minor,

Yes, I found your real name. It was surprising how much time it took to find it. Even more surprising was the story of what happened to you. And...I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you. I always knew we had a kinship, but I never understood why until now. And I did do some more research for you. Silvercloud missed you when you were gone. Her spark was for you and you alone. She was buried in the place that you two first met.

But all that aside. I write to you this letter with grim news. I know that my time is short, and that I must go the way of life. I know not how I will go, but I know it is soon. That being said, I give my library unto you and your safe care. I trust you know the responsibilities that come with this. I know this seems sudden, but, even I can't avoid the inevitable.

Knowing everything I do now, I wish I could have talked with you more. At least try to do something to help you with your struggles. But alas, I am only one bot. And there are no magic devices that will give me one last chance to guide you. Take care, my Grand Archivist of Cybertron,

A3

Chapter Text

It had been a week since everyone’s trip to the mental hospital. So when a nearby colony planet appeared on radar, everyone was eager to land there just to relax. And to top all this off, everyone was tired. So the solution was to land near one of the local cities that was just entering dusk. That way, when night actually came, everyone would be able to sleep peacefully.

The night started off as expected. All was quiet all was peaceful… until what sounded like a loud mouse squeak came from one of the rooms. Then it happened a second time.

Rodimus was in his room at the time this noise was happening, and had already gotten a few minutes of recharge time. This was soon interrupted when Sandstorm burst into the room, his face riddled with panic and urgency, with Alexis cupped in his hands.

“Rodimus! Help!” Sandstorm called. “Alexis is exploding! What do I do?!?” Alexis didn’t look like she exploded into little bits, so that was a good start. But she didn’t look like she was having a good time. She was still tired, and her nose was a little red. She sniffled and wiped away some boogers with her pajama sleeve.

The Prime powered on and sat up, looking highly confused and still feeling a bit groggy. “Exploding?” he rasped.

“Yeah!” the seeker confirmed. “She woke me up in the middle of the night with this loud noise, and now she's leaking!”

The maroon mech squinted a little as he slid off his recharge slab and walked over to examine her. “You feeling alright, kiddo?”

“My nose is stuffy…” the girl answered, sounding a little stuffed up, too. “And it hurts right here…” she added, pointing to the bridge of her nose.

“Ahh,” Rodimus realized, assured that it wasn’t life threatening. “Well good news, Sandstorm. She's not dying. Or exploding.”

“But… that noise!” Sandstorm argued. “And the leaking! What's happening??”

“She's just caught a head cold, is all,” the Autobot assured. “It's a normal human sickness. Nothing major. That noise was what's called ‘sneezing’. It's a function her body does to get the things making her sick out. Same with the leaking. That's just something called snot. A little gross, but nothing life threatening.”

The conehead paused to look down at Alexis, then back up to Rodimus. “So… what do I do? Can we fix her? Give her a new snot pump? Replace what's sick?”

“No. We don't need to do anything,” Rodimus kept assuring. “Her body is already fixing itself. It'll just take a day or so for everything to flush out of her system.”

Alexis sneezed again, which only caused Sandstorm to jump a little.

“...Maybe we could grab her something to clean up with, though,” the Autobot suggested. He then addressed the girl. “Kiddo, don't you go licking that stuff, alright?”

The thought and mention of such an act was enough to cause Alexis to screw up her face to express disgust. “Ew, no…"

“Just had to say it. When Daniel was little, he was a little dumb and would ‘clean up’ by licking what he got on himself,” the Prime told them.

“That's so gross…” Alexis commented.

“Did I hear something about exploding children??” a voice cackled from the doorway behind Sandstorm.

“No! Go away!” he barked, turning to glance back at Redwing. “It's the middle of the night! Why are you still up?!?”

“Reasons,” Redwing grinned. “I got instructions.”

“Does Hotlink have any spare rags, Redwing?” Rodimus asked. “Alexis has a head cold and needs something to sneeze into.”

“What makes you think I would know?” the old mech answered. “I got a rag with some holy oil on it. That might help. Got some ghost goo…"

“We do NOT need more goo!” Sandstorm declared. “We need this goo—” he gestured towards Alexis, “—to stop.”

“We can't give Alexis any oil,” Rodimus added. “If she gets that in her system she'll get the dangerous type of sick.” He turned back to Sandstorm and Alexis and sighed. “We'll just have a look around Hotlink's workspace and see what we can find. Don't think he'll be waking up any time soon since the twins have been keeping him busy.”

“Sure we can,” the red seeker chirped. "The oil, if I remember correctly, is holy olive oil. Humans like olives, right? Also, we can't wake up Hotlink while he's sleeping. He snores. Poor kids.”

“No,” Sandstorm stated firmly. He turned back towards Rodimus. “Can we give her something, or go out and buy something to give her?”

“The good stuff. Drugs,” Redwing suggested.

Rodimus nodded. “If the town has an open drug store with the right stuff, we could get her some drugs to make it easier to deal with, sure.” He looked over to Alexis. “I think you should stay here, though, so you can try and get more rest. Okay?”

Alexis gave a nod, then she rubbed her eyes and yawned, clear indications of the little girl returning to her tired state. It was still the middle of the night, after all.

“Rodimus, I think you should go with Sandstorm,” the red seeker suggested. “You would probably know best for what is needed, right?”

“Wait, I don't want to leave her with him!” Sandstorm objected as he pointed aggressively at Redwing.

“He's not going to do anything to her, I promise,” the maroon bot reassured. “She's going to be in her bed the whole time.” He flicked his gaze to Redwing and raised an optic ridge at him. “Right?”

“She's six,” the addressed stated. “What can I possibly do that isn't going to get me arrested?”

“I’m ten,” Alexis corrected.

“That doesn’t make it better,” he informed.

Sandstorm shot a glare at Redwing. “You so much as swear around her… I swear…” he growled.

“Sandstorm,” Rodimus interrupted to try and calm him down. “Just trust us and put Alexis back to bed so we can get her something for that cold. She's practically passing out in your hands.” With a gesture, he moved Sandstorm’s attention to Alexis, whom had her eyes mostly closed and was starting to lean a little.

Sandstorm gained a worried look on his face, then glanced over at his trinemate, who had his hands open and ready to receive. He hesitated and released a sigh as he gave in and went to put Alexis in Redwing's palms. “You so much as do anything…” the conehead warned.

“Yeah, yeah. You still have my card, yes?”

“I think so.”

“Then you're covered,” Redwing stated. He turned his attention towards Alexis, bringing her up to meet him at eye level. “Alright, little warrior. Let's get you to bed.” He began to take her out of Rodimus’ room. “Have you ever heard the story of The Cat in the Hat?” he asked.

“Nuh uh…” Alexis yawned and relaxed in Redwing’s palms. “What is it?”

“Oh, good. Neither do I.” The scarred seeker smirked and started, “But I'm pretty sure Dr. Seuss would have written it like this.” He straightened up and cleared his throat before he began his reiteration. “The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house all that cold, cold, wet day…” He continued to tell her the story of the Cat in the Hat as he went to put her to bed, and his voice trailed off as he moved down the halls of the ship to her room.

Rodimus Prime gave a quick stretch to warm up his joints, then he headed for the entrance, putting a hand on Sandstorm’s shoulder as he passed by. “Okay, dad. Let's see what we can find.”

“Yeah…” The tan conehead followed the Prime as the two exited the ship and made their way on foot to the local town. “How are we going to know we found what we're looking for?”

“I've run errands for Carly so many times that I have a good idea of what we're looking for.” Rodimus shrugged and explained, “It's always labeled clearly, anyway. If drugs in stores aren't labeled, the store owners get in huge amounts of trouble.”

Sandstorm let out a sigh of relief. “Well, that's good to hear…" He walked side by side with the Autobot for a bit in silence, then after a while he spoke up again. “Hey, Rodimus? Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, go for it."

“What is it like to be a Prime? I've heard that you're like a messiah or something? Redwing says you don't have a life, though…”

Rodimus let out a grunt of confirmation. “Yeah, Redwing's got it pretty down pat. I don't have a life anymore,” he admitted. “I'm sure all the other Primes would tell you how it's a great honor to be the ‘Hand of Primus’ or something. But it's not all that it's chalked up to be.”

“Then… Why be one? What do you get out of it?”

“Honestly, I don't know what I get out of it,” the Prime shrugged. “One could say ‘respect’, but when it comes down to it, there's not a whole lot of people that do. I guess the Matrix gives me ‘power’, but it decides what it wants to do. All I know is: I've been stuck with this thing since I used it to stop Unicron. I don't think even the Matrix respects me.” He took a moment to glare down at his chest. “Which really has me perturbed.”

Sandstorm titled his head in confusion. “I thought you wanted adventure and that's why you chose to be a Prime.”

“I don't need the Matrix to have adventure,” Rodimus stated flatly. “Being Prime means being laden with responsibilities and people's expectations. And if I don't meet those expectations, I hear about it. I could bring universal peace to the galaxy and people would still have a bone to pick with me because of one thing or another that I didn't do that Optimus would have.”

“What's so great about Optimus? What has he done that you haven’t?”

Rodimus fell silent for a minute, thinking about his response before he answered. “…He was like a father and friend to everyone who wasn't his enemy. He and the Matrix got on a lot better. He was an experienced and successful commander. He was strong. Brave. Charismatic. Gentle. A true hero. He always did what he believed to be right and stuck up for others' beliefs and freedom. He combated Megatron at almost every turn. Under his protection, planet Earth didn't succumb to Megatron's tyrannical movements. If you just talked with him, he gave off those vibes of someone you could ultimately trust with your life and everything would work out in the end. He is… everything I aspired to be when I was a rookie…”

“Oh…” Sandstorm realized, a tad taken aback by the reverence Rodimus held when speaking about the previous Prime. “I was programmed to look up to Starscream when I was first brought online…” He also paused a moment before continuing, “But then I heard he was dead so, I didn't have anyone to look up to, really.”

“Let me tell you, Starscream is a horrible example to look up to unless you want to get your aft beat most of your life,” the Autobot declared firmly. “It's a good thing you never met him.”

“Oh… I mean… I also heard he was super whiny. Was that true, too?”

“Oh yeah. Whiny, self-centered, always looking to backstab someone so he could reap rewards. Generally a horrible person.”

“Oh…” the tan seeker registered. “So probably not a role model for raising Alexis with, huh?”

“He'd sooner tell you to grow a hardened spine and crush Alexis under your feet, so no. Not a good role model to raise her by,” the Prime confirmed.

Sandstorm froze in his tracks. The thought of him being told to crush Alexis was something absolutely horrid to him. “W-What?!? But she's my daughter!” he exclaimed with a fearful look on his face.

Rodimus stopped to look back at the seeker. “The Decepticons Optimus and his army faced didn't care about humans or aliens. If they weren't cybertronian, they were only useful as a means to get what the Decepticons wanted, as slaves, or as canon fodder. Starscream was one of the types that would sooner have killed off any humans that he didn't deem useful.”

“Wh-Why?” Sandstorm asked, petrified.

“Because he only wanted what would get him further along toward ruling Cybertron himself,” Rodimus answered bluntly. “If that meant exploiting others and killing, then what did some sacrifices matter?” He paused once more, looking down at the ground and shaking his head. “…He had a terrible mindset. I heard he let his lust for power get so bad that he betrayed his own trinemates.”

“That… sounds like it would suck.” Sandstorm went silent to process what Rodimus had told him. “Wait, how did Hotlink and Redwing get through that, then?”

“They were stationed on Cybertron throughout and Starscream wasn't in power for very long. Galvatron saw to that personally.”

“Galvatron…” The conehead thought about the name for a minute or so. “I heard of him… He had the seeker program shut down after I came online.”

“Yep,” Rodimus nodded. “He's who I'm mainly fighting with, at the moment. Seeing as he's the commander of the Decepticons right now and I'm supposed to be the commander of the Autobots.”

“So… technically we should be fighting you, right?” Sandstorm asked tentatively.

“Only if you think I'm not fighting for what you believe,” the maroon bot shrugged. “I can't make you follow me. And I won't try. You can think and act for yourself. But ultimately, I don't think you and your trine believe in what most Decepticons are fighting for. And I'm pretty sure Redwing and Hotlink already know that, or else you all wouldn't have come with me.”

“Redwing somehow convinced Hotlink to go with you,” the newborn recounted. “And then we've just been with you ever since.”

“Then let me ask you something now, Sandstorm. What do you believe in?” Rodimus asked. “Should Galvatron and his army be allowed to have total control of Cybertron and its accompanying colonies? Should they be allowed to go through whoever they want in order to obtain their goal? Is that what you want to fight for?”

“I… I don't know what I believe in…” Sandstorm admitted. “I don't even know what the Decepticons are fighting for. Redwing and Hotlink don't talk about it. I don't know why. But I know I would fight for my trinemates. I would fight for you. And I would definitely fight for Alexis.”

“That's all you need right now,” the Autobot assured. “Hold on to that. Because later on down the road when you gain knowledge about this war and you start to doubt and question what's right and what's wrong… just think about those you love. You think about your trinemates and that little girl, and you ask yourself how your decisions would affect them.”

The tan seeker fell quiet for a few seconds as he pondered Rodimus' words. “Huh… I never thought about it that way.”

“One of the biggest lies around is, ‘My decisions only affect me’,” Rodimus continued. “People like that don't see the pain they inflict on others with their bad or morally unjust decisions. As long as you remain aware of others, I think you'll be alright. Honestly, I think you already have a decent grasp of that. After all, if you didn't, you wouldn't have asked me if we could adopt Alexis.”

“Huh… I guess I wouldn't have…”

The Matrix bearer gave Sandstorm a nod, then continued moving forward. “You've got a good spark, Sandstorm. And a good trine. I don't have to look into the Matrix to know you'll do some great things with your life. For now, though, try not to worry about picking a side in the war. You shouldn't have to worry about such a complicated topic so soon.”

Sandstorm groaned and went after him. “Yeah… I don't think I could handle topics like that if I can't take care of Alexis… sneezing.”

“Can't believe you haven't heard her sneeze before now,” Rodimus mused. “…Then again, we keep the ship pretty clean, so there's not really any dust that collects in it.” A small thought suddenly developed in his mind and he flicked his gaze back at Sandstorm. “Hey, want to know a small human fun fact?

“Sure.”

“Sometimes humans sneeze because of sunlight,” the Prime informed with a smile. “It's the weirdest thing. They step outside, then sneeze almost immediately. Something about the rays that reacts with their bodies funny.”

The seeker’s optics widened at the thought of a human ‘sneezing’ due to sunlight. He had only just encountered Alexis sneezing and was still a little freaked out by it. “Wha… How can those humans survive?!? There's no way they could go out in broad daylight!”

Rodimus Prime breathed a laugh. “Well like I said before, sneezing isn't indicative of them dying. It's just their bodies expelling things like dust and germs so they don't get sick. Or stay sick, as the case may be with Alexis. There's a lot of freaky stuff that goes on in those tiny human bodies, I'll tell you. I don't even know half of the things they do.”

“Oh… I guess I didn't know…” Sandstorm developed a look of despair. Just how many other things about humans did he not know about that he needed to?

“Don't feel like you need to know everything about them,” the maroon bot assured. “Humans can go their whole lives without knowing everything there is to know about their biology. The basics is good enough. Now that you know about colds, if she ever gets it again in future, you can rest easy knowing that it's just a small thing that'll pass and she just needs proper drugs, water, and rest. Speaking of.” He pointed ahead to a store with its lights still on. “I think I see a drug store."

The newborn’s optics brightened when it was pointed out. “We can find something in there to fix Alexis?” he asked with hope in his audial chords.

“Ought to,” the Autobot replied. “We're looking for anything that says it's cold medicine or good for headaches and stuffy noses. It's a pretty common sickness, so there's usually a few selections. We'll also want to grab her some tissues if they have some.”

“Got it,” Sandstorm darted ahead, zipping into the store to find what he was told. He somehow found a way to fit inside the store and once he was in, he paused. There were so many rows of items and bottles and boxes. And all the seeker could do was just scan the store shelves, unsure of where to look for the cold medicine. He began to wander the aisles, hoping that the cold medicine would pop out at him, which would make finding it a lot easier.

Rodimus eventually caught up to the conehead after spotting him wandering aimlessly. He stopped beside him and gave his arm a pat once before peering at the aisle signs, pointing to the one they wanted, and leading him over to it. He knelt and looked over the selections, then picked up a bottle of medicine and handed it over for Sandstorm to hold. “Tissues will be in the next aisle over.”

“OH!” Sandstorm took a moment to check the signs for confirmation before jogging to the next aisle. "What are tissues?” he called back.

“Little white sheets of soft paper,” the maroon bot informed, getting to his feet. “They’re usually in flexible plastic packages or small cardboard boxes.”

“Aha.” The tan seeker had begun to peruse the shelves for tissues… and found a lot of various brands.

Rodimus walked after him and saw the poor bot struggling to picking one. He decided to help out and pointed a box out to him. “That one looks good,” he suggested.

“Okay.” Sandstorm leaned down and tried to grab the box—that was clearly designed to work with smaller beings—with his large seeker fingers without crushing the box or its contents.

“These things are so slagging small…” Rodimus muttered, watching him struggle with the box. He waited until Sandstorm appeared to have it, then gestured to the check out. “Alright. Let's pay and get back.”

The two made sure they had everything they needed before going to the register and checking out. Once done, they made the trek back to the ship. They soon stepped inside and went over the contents they got, with Rodimus giving instruction on how to use the medicine.

“There's instructions on the side of the bottle and a little cup on top of the cap that you need to take off before you can open the bottle. If you fill the cup halfway, that should be enough to help her for the night. Then she and you can go back to resting.” The Matrix bearer looked at Sandstorm’s face to make sure his explanation was getting through. “Got that?”

The conehead gave him a nod. “Okay…” He felt a little nervous, but thought he understood everything that the Prime had told him to do.

“Oho!” Redwing greeted, peering around the corner. “You're back! How'd everything go?”

“Everything's peachy,” Rodimus answered looking back at the red seeker. “We've got what Alexis needs. All quiet here?”

“Almost as the grave,” he answered, approaching the two. “I told Alexis the story of The Cat in the Hat, gave her some cold medicine, and put her to bed. Also played around with some ghost goo.”

Sandstorm squinted after hearing what Redwing said. “Wait… What?”

Rodimus Prime also paused to register what Redwing just told them, proceeding to shut his optics and raise an index finger as he waited to determine whether he wanted to get mad or not. “…We had cold medicine the whole time?”

“Not much. Just enough for one dose.”

“Why didn't you tell us earlier?” Sandstorm exclaimed exasperatedly.

“We needed some anyways,” Redwing beamed.

The Autobot opened his optics again and lowered his hand. “Yeah, I'll give you that. If we only had enough for one dose, we'd have needed to get some more sooner or later. Better to be prepared. Well, this just means that you can go power back down for the night, Sandstorm. She'll probably feel a bit better in the morning.”

“Yeah…” The tan jet let out a yawn before he finished his sentence. “…I guess we all should probably get back to our recharge slabs."

“Yes. Rest,” the scarlet seeker agreed. He turned to the Prime. “Rodimus, you wouldn't mind me taking you to bed, would you?”

“You're taking him to his suite but not me?” his trinemate whined.

“Yes,” Redwing answered.

Rodimus raised an optic ridge at the seeker suspiciously. “I suppose you can if you want to, Redwing.”

“Wonderful!” Redwing chirped as he invitingly motioned down the hall. "Shall we?”

Sandstorm looked back and forth between his trinemate and the Prime, then shook his head and wandered back to his recharge slab.

Rodimus and Redwing left after he did, and both strode down to the Autobot’s suite. He eyed the seeker again with another suspicious look before he spoke up. “What’s the occasion, if I may ask?”

“Must I have a reason to do everything?” the red jet asked, but he paused to ponder for a moment before coming to the realization, “Yeah, I probably should, shouldn't I…”

“I guess ‘just feeling like it’ counts as a reason,” the Prime relented.

“I mean… it could. Pretty weak reasoning, though,” Redwing chatted. He shook himself from his distracted thoughts. “But chatter is chatter, and you have a big day tomorrow. To bed with you.”

The Matrix bearer squinted at him again with confusion at the statement regarding tomorrow, but decided not to press. As soon as they reached his suite, he yawned as he entered and slipped back onto the slab to power down. “Night, then,” he said to the seeker.

“Sweet dreams… young Prime,” he bade back dubiously. “Dream of better days, and younger years.” Redwing wiggled his fingers in a sort of weird parting way, and disappeared from Rodimus' sight.

Rodimus had to take a moment to get his mind to stop thinking about things, but eventually he got his systems to power down once more, slipping into a blissful rest.

Redwing, however, hadn’t gone far. He had just slipped behind the doorframe and begun to wait. And he just stood outside the door for hours, just long enough for him to know that everyone aboard the ship was asleep.

“Ah… Almost as the grave,” he mused. He popped open his cockpit, reached in, and pulled out another hand. This one transparent and weirdly ethereal. He switched out his hand, somehow, with this ghostly hand, and then the jet quietly re-entered Rodimus' room, glancing around for anything that would give him away. Eventually, Redwing was above the Prime and he checked to make sure Rodimus was fast asleep by gently touching sensitive areas on his torso with said ghost hand.

If the bot did feel anything, it didn’t show. He remained sound asleep, not reacting to any of the pats, rubs, tickles, or any other motion that could legally be mentioned with a ghost hand.

Once Redwing was satisfied with the results, he slowly plunged his ghostly hand into Rodimus’ chestpiece, and delicately pulled out the Matrix. Once he was satisfied with his accomplishment, he swiftly exited the room and made his way to his personal storage room. However, he missed the physical change the Autobot went through shortly after doing so.

-<>-

The Prime’s optics flickered on. He felt very well-rested, but it was clear that he may have overslept. Which was weird, seeing that he had set his alarm properly and woke up to it… most of the time. He glanced out his viewport to see the sun well above the horizon, which told him that he woke up sometime late in the morning. He then turned his head to look over at the alarm clock near his recharge slab, only to find that it had been unplugged, which would explain why it didn’t go off.

He yawned and stretched with his optics shut, then slid off his slab and left his suite. He found it odd that the ship's surroundings appeared to have grown. He was darn sure he was at least as tall as that cabinet there. And yet now he was a good size smaller than it. Weird. Whatever. He continued to head for the bridge of the ship and entered.

For some reason, the room was strangely empty. Usually Hotlink was here performing some maintenance, or Sandstorm and Alexis were off to the side going through some activities. After a couple seconds, the smell of something cooking came from the kitchen, catching the Prime’s attention. He went off towards the smell, following it all the way to the kitchen. He felt a little more at ease when he heard the trine talking with each other.

“Since when did you learn how to cook?” Sandstorm asked.

“I've known how for many years. Basic survival skill,” the old seeker answered. “I should teach you the basics sometime. Would do you good for Alexis. Speaking of, I have something special for you, little warrior.”

“Breakfast??” Alexis perked up.

“I have…" Redwing began. There was some clambering like he was going through the cooking utensils to find what he was looking for. After a second of this, he flipped around, presenting a plate of larger-than-normal pancakes with brown dots mixed in. “Chocolate pancakes!” he exclaimed. He looked down at them and tilted his head. “They may be a little bigger than I would like, though…” He then looked back up at the young girl sitting on the table and shrugged. “If you can't eat it, don’t."

“How did you know how to make human food?” Sandstorm asked, eyeing his trinemate suspiciously.

“I had a human cookbook.” Redwing walked over to the table and set the pancakes down in front of Alexis. “I had to wake up early to find some suitable ingredients.”

The ten-year-old let out a gasp as she looked over the food with glee. “Thanks so much, Redwing~!”

The Autobot entered the room in time to see Alexis starting to dig in. He took in the sight silently. Sandstorm and Alexis were here. Sandstorm seemed to be enjoying watching Alexis get all giddy over something new. Redwing was somehow dressed up in some sort of light pink apron and oven mitts, which… was interesting to say the least.

He let out a chuckle as he saw Alexis beginning to inhale the pancakes. “Go easy on the food, kiddo. Don't want to stress your body out.”

She turned to him to respond, but paused to stare at him like she couldn’t believe her eyes, clearly expecting Rodimus, but not seeing him in the way she knew him.

Sandstorm kind of did the same thing, but he also tilted his head and squinted to make sure he was looking at the correct person. “R-Rodimus?”

Redwing eyed Rodimus as well, but he dropped some utensils as he took in the Prime’s new form. “Oh… my… gosh…”

“What happened to you?” the conehead asked incredulously.

“YOU'RE SO TINY!!! OH MY GOSH, YOU'RE SO CUTE!” Redwing shouted.

“What??” The Autobot blinked and looked down at himself, trying to process what everyone was saying. He extended his arms out in front of him. “...Wait a minute…” The pieces were starting to come together, but he had to make sure. He found the nearest reflective surface and peered into it. A much younger-looking version of himself stared back. “I… I'm Hot Rod??” He ran his hands over his face, just to add more confirmation to who he was now. “I can't believe this. I'm Hot Rod…”

“W-Who's Hot Rod?” Sandstorm asked. “What's happening?”

“The fact that there's a physical change that happens to you fascinates me,” the old jet stated.

“What did you do?” his trinemate demanded, eyeing Redwing with accusation.

“I followed instructions. Speaking of, here!” Redwing turned back around and pulled out an assortment of energon foods, offering them up to Sandstorm as a sort of peace offering. “I have breakfast for us, too.”

The newborn hesitated, not moving to take any of it. He merely continued to eye him distrustfully.

Hot Rod moved away from the reflective surface, appearing amazed with the turn of events.

Hotlink suddenly entered the room with his minicons in his arms, also drawn in by the smells produced from within the kitchen. “Something in here smells good—” He let out a yelp as he bumped into Hot Rod, not having seen him. He worked to steady himself and shifted to peer down at what he hit, soon startled when he saw the Autobot. “What the—?"

“Careful, Hotlink,” Hot Rod said as he helped the purple seeker regain his balance.

“Rodimus??” Hotlink gaped, staring him up and down to make sure what he was seeing was true. “Is that you??”

“He said he's Hot Rod now,” Alexis explained. “What does that mean?”

“Well… Hot Rod is who I was before I gained the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. You're basically looking at the real Rodimus,” the smaller bot elaborated.

“The real Rodimus?” Sandstorm echoed with a shake of his head, trying to get rid of the confusion. “What the slag? What is happening?” He glanced over at the only seeker who should have been helping to fix the problem. “Redwing! Help us! What is happening? And please be clear about it,” he begged.

“Honestly… I have no clue.” Redwing walked over to Hot Rod and examined him, looking him up and down several times as he orbited the Autobot. “I did not expect you to wake up this small this morning. How peculiar…” He stepped away again, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Huh…”

“You took the Matrix?” Hot Rod asked.

“What? Why would you make an accusation like that?” the scarred seeker asked, looking at the small bot with intrigue. “Are you bolder when you aren't Rodimus?”

“Is that bad?” Alexis added.

Hot Rod thought about it for a second, then developed a grin. “No, not really.”

“But… that's a sacred Autobot artifact,” Hotlink pointed out with astonishment.

“Psh!” the young mech scoffed while swiping a dismissive hand through the air. “It's not like it was stolen by Galvatron. The Matrix can deal with being hostless in Redwing's care.”

“But the Autobots have to have a leader!” Sandstorm stated. He then paused for a second, taking a moment to think about what he said. “Don't they?”

“Well, whatever happened to the Matrix, the Autobots don't need me,” the magenta bot told them decidedly, folding his arms across his chest. “Ultra Magnus, Jazz, and a bunch of others are running the show on Cybertron while I'm traveling around with you guys. I won't be missed.”

Alexis stared at the Autobot with a bit of worry while Sandstorm and Hotlink exchanged glances with each other. No one… quite knew what to think about this situation.

“Oh, come on!” Hot Rod interrupted. “What's with all the looks?”

“This doesn't… feel right,” Hotlink answered slowly.

“Matrix shmatrix, I'm still me!” he reassured. “I don't need some bauble to do what I have to do as a commander.”

“I think it's just… it's all still a bit new to us,” Sandstorm added hesitantly.

“So weird…” Redwing mused, not taking his gaze off of the Autobot. He quickly gained an expression that could only be assumed to be concern, and begun to bite his index digit out of what could only be assumed to be nervousness. “I… I need to do some reading…” He somehow swiftly exited the room.

“Wait!” the conehead called after him. He got up to give chase, but abruptly stopped at the doorframe. “I KNOW YOU'RE BEHIND THIS!" he shouted before softly adding, “somehow…” The tan seeker turned back toward the group.

“You're all overreacting,” Hot Rod declared with a shake of his head. He took one of the energon foods Redwing made and munched on it. “This is fine. Great, in fact! You'll get used to it.”

“I really think you should put some effort into looking for the Matrix,” Hotlink said insistently.

The young mech shot him a cold glare and replied with a firm and icy, “No.” He then took another bite of the energon goodie and left the room.

Alexis watched as he left, waiting for him to get out of earshot before she asked her question. “Why is he acting like this…?”

Her father appeared perplexed. “I… I don't know. But something happened last night with him, and I have a hunch it has something to do with Redwing.” Sandstorm threw a look at Hotlink, trying to express his annoyance. “This has his handiwork written all over it. I know my gut isn't wrong about this. I just… don't have proof.”

“It really does,” his trinemate agreed. He carefully set Heatstroke and Heartburn down next to Alexis, and then positioned them in a way to ensure they wouldn’t fall onto the floor. “Not sure where to start, though, if at all.”

The little girl perked up with childlike hope. “Are we playing detectives today and gathering clues??”

Sandstorm paused and looked at her, then smiled as he got an idea. “Actually... Yeah… Alexis, we're trying to figure out why Rodimus— er, Hot Rod shrunk. Do you think you can help us with your new skills Redwing taught you?”

“Yeah!” Alexis raised a fist, looking determined and excited. She then glanced down at her food, and made an important realization. “…After I have a full tummy.” She went back to eating, trying to finish all her food.

“Of course. Take your time.” He left Alexis to finish and moved over to Hotlink. “Do you want to find Redwing? See if you can get a straight answer out of him?”

Hotlink snorted. “Like Redwing ever gives straight answers. I don't think he's ever given me a straight answer the entire time I've known him.” He grabbed an energon food and took a bite of it. “But I can go talk with him, anyway, if you'll make sure Heatstroke and Heartburn fill up.”

The conehead glanced at the twins. It didn’t seem like feeding them would be too much of a hassle. After all, how much of a mess could two newborns make? “Of course I can,” he answered confidently. “How hard can feeding them be? Alexis is well behaved, I'm sure I can handle them.”

The purple seeker gave him a nod. “I'll be right back, then.” He took another bite of food as he left to look for where Redwing went.

Sandstorm turned to look at the minicons and strode up to them, then sat down and did his best to put the two on his lap. “Alright,” he muttered once he got the two stable. “Let’s get you two fed.” He reached across the table to the platter of goodies and picked one up. “You two want some energon goodies? You probably do.” He brought the goodie to Heartburn, holding it in front of the minicon’s face to grab his attention. “Alright, here you go,” the seeker encouraged.

Heartburn looked at the food curiously, then reached out with both hands to grab it out of Sandstorm’s grasp. He stared at it a few seconds before making the decision to throw the food across the room and onto the floor.

“No! You're not supposed to throw it!” Sandstorm exclaimed exasperatedly. He made sure he had Heartburn secured before he grabbed some more food to show the minicon. “You're suppose to eat it. Eeeeeeeat.” He ate a small portion to demonstrate to the newborn. “Now you try." He handed it to Heartburn again, hoping that the minicon would be able to copy Sandstorm’s movements.

Despite the conehead’s expectations and hopes, Heartburn did the same thing he did the last time. He grabbed the food, looked at it curiously, and threw it across the room and onto the floor.

“What?” Sandstorm whined as he watched the display the newborn put on. “Why are you like this? You're Hotlink's kid! Why aren't you behaving?” While this was going on, he caught a glimpse of Heatstroke out of the corner of his optic, who had somehow gotten out of Sandstorm’s lap, onto the table and was now going face first into the food. “NO!” Sandstorm shrieked as he tried to reach for Heatstroke.

Alexis paused the eating of her food to watch her father try to work with the newborns. “Do you need help, daddy?”

“I just… I just don't understand,” he said with a vexed look on his faceplate. “You eat so good. Why won't these two?” He tries to get Heatstroke's face out of the food while not letting Heartburn fall out of his other arm.

“I'm ten. I learned to eat like this,” Alexis reminded. “They're babies, though. Babies haven't learned how to eat like we do. I think you need to hold it up to their mouths and not let them take it from you.”

Sandstorm blinked at Alexis's suggestion and thought about it for a moment before coming to the conclusion that it probably wouldn’t hurt to try. Round three, he took yet another piece of food and put it near Heatstroke's mouth, hoping that the newborn won’t do what Heartburn did.

Instinctively, upon seeing the food in front of his face, Heatstroke opened his mouth and moves his whole head to suck on the piece of food. The minicon sucked on the offering for a few seconds, then grabbed the seeker’s hands to try and shove the piece further into his tiny mouth.

“It's working! Holy slag!” Sandstorm exclaimed with giddiness. He then got concerned when Heatstroke kept trying to shove the whole thing into his mouth. “Oh… Don’t eat it all at once…” He tried to pull back on the food so the minicon wouldn’t suffocate himself.

“I heard some babies don't know when they're full either,” Alexis added, “so you might have to guess.”

“Primus…” the conehead muttered, shaking his head. “Why does this have to be so darn difficult…”

It took a bit for Heatstroke to finish the lump of food he was given. Once he was done, he let out a combination of a burp and vomit, causing some the food he just ingested to come back up and spill all over himself.

“Primus…” Sandstorm cursed, feeling very exasperated at this point. “I was just about to feed your brother! Is Hotlink this messy, too??”

His daughter couldn't help giggling at her father for trying to figure out how to feed newborns. The sight was endearing and cute to watch. She continued to watch Sandstorm struggle with the two minicons as she went back to eating her own food. Despite the wacky start to the morning, it was just another day with her family.

Chapter Text

Hotlink made his way through the halls, trying to figure out where Redwing could have gone off to. He had already checked the usual places. Their habsuite, the kitchen, in the main vents, in Rodimus—er—Hot Rod’s room. He made a pass by the closets when he remembered something about Redwing having his own closet, and that no one was to go inside. He paused in front of the door and gave it a knock, just in case.

“Redwing? You in there?”

There was silence from the other side of the door, if only for a few moments, before Redwing’s voice could very quietly be heard. “If I speak really quietly, he might not know I'm here… Perfect logic…”

Hotlink paused, a little disappointed. Just what kind of nonsense was Redwing trying to pull? He could clearly hear Redwing. The purple seeker just shook his head and gave a bit more of a forceful knock.

“Redwing,” Hotlink said, with a tone that hopefully let his trinemate know he wasn’t going to be fooled.

“GO AWAY! I'M BUSY!” Redwing shouted from the other side of the door.

“What are you reading up on?”

“No! Don’t come in! You know the rules!”

Hotlink pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm not opening the door, Redwing. Why are you dodging a simple question?”

“Because I don't know what the answe— Whoop!” What first started out as an answer quickly became the sound of many hard and expensive things falling to the floor, some of them with great force and in a calamity of noise. Once the noise died down, Hotlink could hear Redwing give a disheartened “Frag…” from the other side of the door.

Hotlink winced at the thought of the mess that was just made, and had to remind himself that that was Redwing’s space and he himself didn’t have to clean any of that up. “You don't know what reading material you're looking for?”

“Kinda?” Redwing guessed amid the sounds of moving the mess around. “I don't know. Can you read ancient Cybertronian?”

“Not really... I'm not a linguist.”

“Do you know about any of the Primes?”

“Maybe one or two, but nothing extensive.”

“Then go away,” Redwing ordered followed by more noises of moving things around. “I need to find answers.”

“Figures,” Hotlink muttered. He turned away and began to make his way back to the others, finishing his energon along the way. Eventually, he re-entered the dining room and glanced at the mess on Sandstorm and the surrounding floor and across the room where Heartburn chucked the rations. He gained an amused smirk at the sight. “No issues?” he asked the conehead.

Sandstorm’s head snapped up from the minicon and darted to Hotlink with an exasperated look on his face. “How the slag do you manage to feed these two?”

Hotlink strode over to Sandstorm, and extended his arms out in offering to take Heartburn out of his trinemate’s hands. “There’s a trick to it.”

Sandstorm grumbled something as he he handed over Heartburn to his father, all while trying to not make a bigger mess than there already was.

Hotlink took the minicon and cradled him in one arm. “Heatstroke will fuel up with little issue. He's just messy,” he informed. “Heartburn, though, doesn't really understand what's fuel and what isn't. So to get around that…"

The purple seeker moved over to an energon ration, then reached in and dipped his finger in the energon. He then presents the dipped finger to Heartburn, putting it in front of the minicon’s mouth. Whether it was by instinct or not, the minicon saw the hand and reached out to it, bringing it in close to his face and begins to suck on the finger.

The father waited a few seconds, then pulled his finger out of Heartburn's mouth, dipped it in the energon again, and put it back in the minicon’s mouth, repeating the process and getting Heartburn fed.

“It's a slow process,” he commented, going in for a third time, “but it gets the fuel in him.”

Sandstorm continued to watch as Hotlink fed the minicon, amazed how Hotlink was able to get the minicons to cooperate so easily. “Primus…” he muttered. “Guess I still have a few things to learn.”

“We've still got lots and lots to learn, daddy,” Alexis agreed.

“Got that right,” Hotlink confirmed. He moved to dip his finger in the energon for round four. “So… Like I suspected, I wasn't able to get a straight answer out of Redwing. But I think he's trying to read up on the history of Autobot Primes.”

“Oh, of course he didn’t,” his trinemate grumbled. He then perked up when he registered what Hotlink said. “Wait what? The history of the Primes? Why?”

“He didn’t say,” Hotlink answered. “Told me to shoo. You saw how he reacted when he saw Rodi—” He paused, remembering what happened a few minutes ago. “Erm, Hot Rod, though. Maybe he’s trying to figure out what the Matrix does to its holders.”

“So… Redwing didn't have something to do with it?” Sandstorm asked, tilting his head to the side as he tried to make sense of the situation. “I'm so confused.”

Alexis was able to finally finish up her breakfast to add in her own thoughts. “But someone couldn’t have snuck on the ship and stolen it. And Rodimus is easy to wake up, right?”

“No, I’m sure Redwing has something to do with it,” Hotlink assured. “Redwing tends to be behind a lot of whacky or confusing things that happen around here. But…” He tilted his head back and forth, trying to think of something. “Maybe he didn’t know what to expect.”

“Then… what do we do?” the conehead asked. “Just let everything go and say it's normal?”

The purple seeker shrugged. “I suppose we should for now. We can still do some detective work of our own, but we probably shouldn’t push our luck and hack off Hot Rod.”

“I don't like it…” Sandstorm grumbled, looking down and trying to think. He then turned his gaze back up at Hotlink, looking a bit flustered at the situation. “I hate how you and I are left out of what's going on all the time. Y’know?”

Hotlink nodded, but didn’t seem as bothered by the problem as Sandstorm was. “It’s irritating that he keeps us in the dark, I know.”

“With our detective skills, we won’t need him to tell us,” Alexis declared. “We’ll figure it out ourselves.”

Sandstorm looked over at Alexis and chuckled. He couldn’t be mad when he had her. He knew she was trying to be helpful. He used a finger to pet her hair. “Stay cute, Alexis.” She smiled broadly and took the strokes from her father, leaning into the finger to further enjoy the affection given.

Hotlink watched with a smile of his own for a bit, then finished feeding Heartburn. “Maybe we should start with getting to know Hot Rod a little more.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sandstorm agreed. He leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and thought about the situation. “Is it weird to think about how he was someone else before he was Rodimus? And why wouldn't he mention that?”

“People have different ideas about what’s important for others to know about them and what isn’t,” Hotlink input. “For whatever reason, Rodimus just didn’t think it was important. It is really odd to think that without the Matrix, he’s just another tiny Autobot.”

“I guess.” Sandstorm picked up Heatstroke and placed him on one of the chairs, making sure the minicon was secure so he didn’t fall over, then got out of his own chair to stretch out a couple limbs. “I’m going to find Rodimus—er—Hot Rod and see what I can learn from him.”

“Sounds good,” his trinemate nodded.

“Can I come?” Alexis asked.

“Sure,” Sandstorm shrugged. “You've finished your food. Why not?” The conehead reached out with his hand to Alexis, who set aside her dishes and hopped on with great eagerness. He then brought her up to his shoulder so she could get situated as the two left to search for Hot Rod.

The two almost passed by the Autobot while he was in his suite, with Sandstorm having to pause and look to actually catch Hot Rod. The young Prime had gathered a bunch of materials from both the hallway closets and the closets within his own habsuite. From the look of it, he seemed to have gotten a bunch of string and some piping and a box with various sorts of hook-like items, lying together on his recharge slab.

“Oh, Hot Rod!” Sandstorm called. “I was just looking for you.”

Hot Rod was working on the pole and trying to get the string tied on when he heard Sandstorm. He glanced back at the seeker and his daughter and greeted them with a smile, seeming to have dropped the earlier exchange he had with them. “Hey, Sandstorm. What's up?”

“Er… Not much.” Sandstorm answered. “I just wanted to see what you were up to.”

Alexis leaned forward on Sandstorm’s shoulder to get a better look at the things on Hot Rod’s recharge slab. “What is all this?” she asked.

“Oh this?” Hot Rod asked, motioning to the makeshift fishing rod and tackle box. “I saw a lake not far from here while we were out the other day and I figured that since we're still parked here, I could pop out for a bit of fishing!” He turns back to the makeshift fishing pole. “So I'm making myself a pole with what I can find.”

“Oh…” Sandstorm nodded while tilting his head with a bit of concern. “You’re not at all concerned with what's happening?” he asked.

“No. Not at all,” Hot Rod answered. “I plan on making the most of this before the Matrix is inevitably returned to me.”

“But… Huh?” Sandstorm asked trying to process the answer. “Isn't the Matrix your responsibility? Shouldn't you like… I don't know… care that it's missing or something?”

“If that glow orb did anything to help me, sure.” Hot Rod snarled bitterly. “It’s only ever been a burden.” He then turned to shoot a sour look at Sandstorm. “Why are you all so concerned about the darn Matrix?”

“I… I don’t know.” Sandstorm stammered. “Isn’t it an important relic or something?”

“That’s the way everyone treats it. It’s supposed to make it so that the host can commune with the past Primes. Access their knowledge in times of need. Or perform miracles as Primus sees fit.” Hot Rod let out a sigh. “But as I told you last night, it also shoves expectations and judgement on the host. Given the pros and cons, I’m not in a hurry to have it back.”

“Don’t you at least want to know if it’s safe?” Alexis asked.

Hot Rod paused for a moment and set down the makeshift rod. He walk over to the two and prodded Sandstorm’s chest with irritation. “Did you guys just come to me to ask me more slag about the Matrix?” he snarled. “Is that all I am to you guys? A vessel for the Matrix? Without the Matrix, I’m not worth scrap?”

Sandstorm winced as Hot Rod jabbed his chest. “Hey! Relax! What’s your problem?”

“My problem is all anyone on this ship seems to care about is the stupid Matrix!” Hot Rod declared. “Why are you all so fixated on making me go back to being Rodimus?! Why can't you let me have this and be happy for me?!”

“We're not trying to be…” Alexis whimpered. “We just want to understand…"

“Understand this. Rodimus can stay the hell away from me right now,” Hot Rod stated. “And I don't want to hear one more word about the Matrix.”

Sandstorm stood still, completely flabbergasted and unable to find words to combat what just happened, while Hot Rod gave them the same cold glare he gave Hotlink earlier. Hot Rod then turned away from the father and daughter, gathered up his makeshift fishing items and made his way past the duo.

Alexis waited in silence, watching Hot Rod storm out of the room before she spoke up.“…He's so angry…”

“Yeah… No kidding…” Sandstorm agreed. He looked over at Alexis. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I just… don't understand why he's so mad…” Alexis said sadly. “Why did he say that Rodimus should stay away like he hates him…?”

“I don't know… but I have a feeling the source of the problem would.” He paused for a moment then used his internal communicator. “Hey, Hotlink? Where's Redwing?”

“He's in his personal storage room,” Hotlink answered. “You're not planning on breaking the rules, are you?”

“No! No no no!” Redwing interjected, hearing the conversation over the comms. “You are NOT allowed to come in. That is the one rule I will always enforce.”

“We need answers, Redwing,” Sandstorm declared sternly. “Hot Rod just blew up at me and Alexis just now.”

There was silence on the coms for a minute before Redwing spoke back up. “He did what?” the red seeker asked.

“Hot Rod just yelled at me and Alexis for asking questions,” Sandstorm repeated.

“Primus…” Hotlink muttered. “Redwing. Answers. Stop leaving us in the dark.”

“You all have no idea how helpful this was,” Redwing chirped. “This will make it so much easier to find answers. Now I know what I'm looking for.”

“Redwing. HEY! What is happening?” Sandstorm barked. “Why is it happening? I know you like riddles and whatever, but give us something to work with here.”

“How in the wide galaxy did you gain anything from hearing about Hot Rod getting angry with Sandstorm and Alexis?” Hotlink added.

“Because now I know when the problem started,” Redwing answered.

“What?” Sandstorm blinked. “How? That makes no sense!”

“Only if you don't know anything about the history of the Primes and the Matrix.” Redwing informed.

“If you don't clue us in later, we're going to gang up on you the second you leave that room,” Hotlink said, tersely. “You've been warned.”

“Only if I find something of value.”

“Primus, Redwing!” Sandstorm groaned. “We need answers now! You said you got instructions, Right?”

“…Yeah. Why?”

“Who the frag gave you those instructions?” Hotlink asked.

“Optimus,” Redwing replied.

“Optimus as in the Optimus before Rodimus?” Sandstorm asked.

“Yeah.” Redwing chirped. “Red and blue truck, grill abs, and window pecs that everyone wanted to touch, apparently.”

“Optimus is de—” Hotlink paused as he realized what Redwing was talking about. “...You saw him while you were tripping out with that holy oil and the weird glasses, didn't you?”

“I saw him with the weird glasses,” Redwing corrected. “The holy oil is what helped me hear him.”

“What were the instructions?” Sandstorm asked.

“That Rodimus has been a bad bad boy and he needed to have his toys taken away.”

“He makes it sound like he doesn't want his ‘toys’, though,” Hotlink pointed out. “How does taking them away help?”

“I don't fragging know!” Redwing admitted. “That's the problem! I wasn't told about any of this!”

Sandstorm let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “Can't you just drink some holy oil and ask Optimus?”

“Do you have any idea how expensive holy oil is?” Redwing asked.

“Why do you do things like this?” Hotlink bemoaned. “Why did you start trouble when you didn't know what would happen?”

“Reasons,” Redwing answered. “OOOH, I found something interesting in some of these journals!”

“Primus, Redwing…” Sandstorm groaned again.

“Nope. I am not,” the red seeker teased.

“Share with the class, Redwing,” Hotlink ordered. “I mean it.”

“None of these journals mentions or references changing size when they got the Matrix bestowed upon them.”

“That's not helpful,” Sandstorm stated.

“Oh, but it's super helpful,” Redwing corrected. “I really need to teach you all how to read this stuff sometime.”

“So how is that helpful, then?” Hotlink asked. “Are you saying Rodimus is a rare phenomenon?”

“It's beginning to look that way. He's one out of three instances where this has happened.”

Sandstorm blinked at that information. “Three?”

“Yes. Three. One, Two, Three,” Redwing counted.

“How did the other two react to getting that… physical change?” Hotlink pried. “Or do the journals not say?”

“Oh, the journals won't have anything on that. Besides, it wasn't Primes that experienced the change.”

“But Primes are the only ones that can hold the Matrix, right?” Sandstorm asked.

“Not before the lineage of the Primes,” Redwing stated. “Almost anyone could hold it back the day.”

“Autobot history is beginning to sound like a headache…” Hotlink lamented.

“You cannot have Autobot history and Decepticon history as two separate histories, Hotlink,” Redwing stated. “They are one and the same.”

Hotlink let out a sigh over the comms. “Yes, yes… So what useful information can be taken from knowing there were two other bots that went through what Rodimus did?”

“Not just what, but who went through the physical changes.”

“Okay, the who went through them?” Sandstorm asked.

“Prima and Liege Maximo.”

“Oh, you've got to be joking…” Hotlink groaned. “Please tell me this is just another one of your jokes.”

“Well, this already has huge implications. If I wasn't so calm and relaxed I’d…Wait…" Redwing fell silent over the comms.

“What? What is it?” Sandstorm asked.

“I need to go.” Without another word, Redwing disconnected.

“NO!” Sandstorm shouted. REDWING!”

“You can't just dip out now!” Hotlink added.

Sandstorm waited for an answer before he let out a sigh of defeat. Was Redwing even trying to fix this mess he made? He did seem like he was also looking for answers… but it also seemed like the answers he had were being kept away from his own trinemates, which was so much more frustrating.

“Did he give you any answers?” Alexis asked. “It sounded like he gave some.”

“He gave some, but not the ones we wanted.”

Alexis heaved a breath. “Darn…”

“Tell me about it,” Sandstorm lamented as he brought up his free hand up to rub his face. "Man, my processor hurts dealing with Redwing's nonsense.”

Alexis got to her feet and moved closer to Sandstorm's head before rubbing his helm delicately. “Poor daddy,” she sympathized.

“Thanks, sweetie.” The conehead pondered for a minute, trying to think of other things to do to try and fix the situation. Eventually, he gave a sigh of defeat. “What do we do now? We've exhausted all our options and nothing has gone how we want.”

“Um… We could… say sorry to Hot Rod? I don't want him to stay mad at all of us,” the little girl suggested. She also fell silent as she thought for a moment. She then perked up when she got an idea. “Or we could try talking with Mrs. Witwicky. She knows Rodimus really good, I think.”

“Say, that's not a bad idea.” Sandstorm smiled as he thought about her suggestion for a second, then cast a glance around Hot Rod’s room. “Do you think Hot Rod keeps her comm number around here?”

“I know it. I've seen him use it a lot,” Alexis beamed.

Sandstorm paused as he heard her response, feeling a little silly thinking about looking around someone’s room. “Oh… Of course…”

Alexis had a seat back on Sandstorm’s shoulder and pat his plating lovingly. “Let's go to the main deck and call her.”

“Right.” Sandstorm gave her a nod and took them to the main deck. “So… who is Mrs. Witwicky?”

“So you know how Rodimus talks about a boy named Daniel a lot? Mrs. Witwicky is his mom. Rodimus and Daniel are best friends, so she and Rodimus are close, too. She's back in Iacon.”

“Oh, cool.” Sandstorm began to type on the communications console to open up a new line to Cybertron. "Do you think she'll know enough to give us help?”

“I’m sure enough.” Alexis hesitated as she thought about her answer. “…Mostly”

Sandstorm offered her his hand so she could get down and onto the console “Well, let's call her up.”

Alexis hopped onto the console and put in the comm number to call up the only source that could probably help at this point. She eventually finished putting in the number and backed away, turning her gaze up to the view screen. After a few moments, the screen came to life and on the display appeared Carly.

“Oh! Hi, sweetie!” Carly greeted with a warm smile. “Is everything okay?”

“Well… Kind of?” Alexis guessed. “Daddy and I have some questions about… Hot Rod, if that's okay.”

“Ahh, that's a name I haven't heard in a while,” the lady mused. She then looked to Sandstorm. “So you're the father I've heard so much about. Sandstorm, right? What sort of questions do you have about Hot Rod?”

Sandstorm’s face flushed as he saw the woman on screen and he began to get flustered. “Um— Hi… Um… I, uh… I am Sandstorm… I am the father— Well, not really the father. I-I just wanted to make sure she was taken care of… Um… Was just wondering… Um…”

Alexis glanced up at him with a confused squint as he fumbled with his words.

Carly found Sandstorm’s flustered manner cute and let out a giggle “Take your time, dear,” she encouraged.

Sandstorm took a moment to recover and cleared his vocal processor. “Right… Um… See, we were calling about Hot Rod… and how he lost the Matrix and doesn't want it back.”

Carly blinked as she heard this and lost her smile abruptly “He what?!” she shouted. “Where is he?!”

“He said he was going fishing,” Alexis answered.

The adult growled and rubbed her forehead with a couple fingers. “Irresponsible young man… Honestly…” she grumbled.

“Wait, has this happened before?” Sandstorm asked.

Carly folded her arms as she thought back into Rodimus’ history. “Once. A group of Decepticons called the Stunticons took it from him. When he got it back I had thought he'd learned his lesson, but apparently that one is a long install.”

“Geez…” Sandstorm sighed. “Well, he also went off on me for trying to convince him to get it back. That was really unnerving. This whole thing is unnerving.”

“He yelled at you for that?” She let out a sigh. “I'm sorry.” She paused for a moment and shook her head as she was thinking. “He has… very conflicted feelings about his rise to leadership, if he hasn't told you this. There's a lot of pressure. I suppose he hasn't found a good outlet for it.”

“I… don't know if he has. He spends a lot of time trying something with Redwing, and it flusters my trinemate often. I think Rodimus enjoys it slightly… Maybe that's his outlet,” Sandstorm added.

“I can only hope,” Carly said. “But if it is, clearly it isn't enough.”

“What is Hot Rod like?” Alexis asked. “We know about Rodimus, but Hot Rod is different.”

“That is true,” Carly answered. “Hot Rod is impulsive, brash, and bold. Reckless and ready for action. He's a bit of a jokester, as well, but he's never mean-spirited about it. But on top of all that, he's sensitive. He's much more open about his feelings than most, because he in turn doesn't want to guess how others feel about him and his decisions. If he doesn't feel like he's appreciated, you can expect him to be vocal and retaliate in a way he feels appropriate.”

“Ohhh…” Alexis realized.

“But… he’s… Huh?" Sandstorm tilted his head sideways and squinted in confusion. “How does he feel like he's not appreciated? He's the leader of the Autobots…” He paused and looked at the lady on the screen. “Isn’t he?”

“He is. However, he's not popular,” Carly sighed. “Especially among the older generations of transformers. The older generation is so used to how Optimus Prime ran things that they tend to push those standards onto him.”

“But he isn't Optimus Prime,” Alexis argued. “He's Rodimus Prime.”

Carly nodded. “I know. It's unfair. But he still tries his hardest to meet those standards, even at the cost of himself.”

“Why?” Sandstorm asked. “From everything I've been told, being a Prime isn't a popularity contest. Why would Rodimus be so obsessed about that?”

“One can’t really be a leader if others don’t respect them enough to follow,” Carly answered. “He’s trying to keep unity, from what I understand.”

“Gracious…” Sandstorm groaned as he brought his hands up to rub his temples. “Do the Decepticons have to worry about this as well? I don't hear Hotlink and Redwing talk about them very much.”

“I can’t say I know much about Decepticon politics,” Carly admitted. “I assume Galvatron commands them through mostly fear.”

“I wouldn’t know, either.” Sandstorm added. “I was kinda the last of the seekers, and even then, I was kicked out from the very beginning.”

“Count that as a blessing. You don’t need to be wrapped up in this mess.” Carly paused, shaking her head and taking a deep breath before she looked back at the father and daughter. “Is there anything else I can answer for you?”

“Ummmm… Not as far as I know…” Sandstorm thought for a moment, but perked up when— “OH! One other thing, Hot Rod said something about keeping Rodimus ‘away’? Any idea what that means?

“Hm…” Carly hummed, looking concerned and glancing in another direction as she thought. “That sounds to me like he doesn’t like who he became…”

“But that doesn't make any sense…” Sandstorm argued. “He’s super kind, and he has a strength that surpasses anyone I know. I don't understand why he doesn't like being Rodimus.”

“That’s something you’ll have to talk with him about. He hasn’t talked to me about his personal feelings in a long while,” Carly suggested.

Sandstorm let out a sigh. “Of course. Well, he's out fishing now. Maybe we can catch him and talk to him about what's happening to him.”

“I hope he’s a little more cooperative and calmer for you than he was earlier,” Carly wished upon the young seeker.

“Thanks, Mrs. Witwicky,” Sandstorm said appreciatively. “You’ve been a big help.”

“You drag him right back here and call me again if he’s being stubborn,” Carly ordered with a stern expression. The look was quickly replaced by a cheerful one. “Bye dears! Be good!”

“We will!” Alexis beamed.

Carly gave them one last smile before the display went dark, leaving Sandstorm and Alexis to think about what she said alone. The conehead continued to stare at the screen, looking at it longingly like he was waiting for her to return.

Alexis turned to peer up at him, and saw the expression on his face. She glanced at the screen again to see what her father is looking at, and quickly took a guess at what Sandstorm was feeling before grinning at him. “She’s nice, huh?” the little girl asked.

Sandstorm shook himself from his thoughts when he heard Alexis, blinking a couple times as he registered her question. “What?”

Alexis let out a giggle at his answer. “You like her a lot?”

“W-well, she's married!” Sandstorm stammered hurriedly. “That's what the ‘Mrs.’ means, right?”

“Yeah. But you can like her. I don’t think anyone would be mad. She is really nice and pretty,” Alexis assured him.

“Right…” Sandstorm was silent for a moment before he focused back on the present. “Anyways, let's go find Hot Rod and see if we can sort this whole mess out.” He knelt down and extended his arm for Alexis to climb onto his shoulder.

“I think we passed by a lake the night Redwing pulled us out of the ship,” Alexis guessed as she got situated on her father’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s there.”

“Yeah, Good thinking,” Sandstorm praised. He left the control room and made his way to exit the ship. Once outside, he traveled on foot to the lake that the group visited earlier in the week to try and find Hot Rod.

It was a similar trek for the conehead, and he found the lake as easily as before. Upon arriving, Hot Rod could be seen standing within it, with the water up to his knees, and with his makeshift fishing pole in hand. It was a very large lake, too, allowing him to cast a line out a good distance from where he was.

Sandstorm took a deep intake and let it out slowly before approaching the Autobot. “Hey, Hot Rod. Um… Catch anything yet?”

The Autobot didn’t turn to look at them, hiding his annoyed expression from the two. “Two small fries. I know there’s some big ones, though. I just have to be patient.” He turned his head slightly to shoot a glance at the two. “Do me a favor. If you’re going to stick around, keep your voice down. You’ll scare them.”

“Okay,” Alexis submitted. “We’ll try not to scare the fish.”

“Um… Okay. Sure,” Sandstorm agreed with some hesitation.

The three just stood where they were for quite some time, making it feel much more awkward than it probably should have been. Sandstorm and Alexis continued to stand and watch Hot Rod fish in silence. Sandstorm didn’t fully know what do to. Alexis fiddled with her hands, looking uncomfortable as the silence dragged on and Hot Rod paid them no mind. Eventually she couldn’t take the silence anymore and spoke up.

“Um, Hot Rod?”

“Alexis, you’re a great kid, but if this conversation goes in a way I don’t like one more time, I’m not going to talk to any of you for the rest of the day,” Hot Rod warned. “Bear that in mind.”

“We… just wanted to say sorry…”

Hot Rod turned his head slightly and eyed the two behind him.

“Yeah,” Sandstorm added. “We're sorry that we made you mad. I guess we just don't understand why you got so upset.”

“I got upset because you all keep trying to push me,” Hot Rod informed. “I’m not worthless without that piece of glowstone. I’m more than what I carry.” He turned his attention back to fishing. “It’s all anyone around me ever thinks about…”

“If I may be honest, I always thought of you as Rodimus Prime,” Sandstorm said. “That’s who I've been introduced to. Even now I don't know who Hot Rod is. I would like to know a bit more, though.”

Hot Rod thought about it for a moment before speaking. “If you want to get to know Hot Rod, then stop pushing for Rodimus to come back and just enjoy who you’ve got right now.”

“We’re sorry we made you feel not wanted,” the young girl apologized once more. “Can we try again?”

Hot Rod shifted to fully look back at them, then slowly waded through the water, dragging the line along through the water. He came to a stand in front of them in the shallows. "Sure. I guess we can give it another go.”

Without warning, the internal comms in Sandstorm’s helmet came to life, and a very loud Redwing speaking from the other end erupted.

“Hotlink!” Redwing shouted. “Emergency cuddle! Our quarters. I'll meet you there when I calm down a bit.”

“OW!” Sandstorm cried, wincing from Redwing’s shouting.

“Coming,” Hotlink responded, much more calm than his counterpart.

Alexis blinked as she heard the comms coming from her father’s helmet. “That was really loud!”

Hot Rod frowned in confusion and lowered the rod he was holding. “What's up?”

“Redwing just… yelled in the comms…” Sandstorm informed as he recovered from the pain. “Ow.”

“What's he yelling about?”

“I don't know. Something about an emergency cuddle or something.”

“Weird…” Hot Rod sulked. “He didn't call for me…”

“He probably didn't want to bother you,” Alexis suggested.

“Hm,” Hot Rod hummed. “I guess.”

“Don't worry about it. He's probably going to wig Hotlink out again or something,” the conehead guessed. “Probably best we don't get involved…” He looked at Hot Rod again and locked optics. “Please don't get us involved…”

Hot Rod smirked at the seeker. “Can't handle Redwing's eccentricity, Sandstorm?” He pulled his fishing pole abruptly and turned his attention back to it as he felt a tugging on the line “Aha!” he shouted with excitement. “This one feels big!” He pulled it back and reached out to grab the line, reeling it in by wrapping it around his hand repeatedly.

Alexis leaned forward a little to see the spectacle. “You have one??”

“If it doesn't slip off the hook,” the Autobot answered. He showed his concentration by sticking his tongue between the side of his teeth and lips as he focused on bringing the fish in. He soon yanked it out of the water and raised it for the group to see. “Hm. Not as big as I thought.”

Sandstorm forget Hot Rod's question and was interested in the fish as it was brought out of the water and held up for them to see. “So… what's the point of fishing?”

“To catch food, right?” Alexis tilted her head. “But you guys don't eat fish, I thought.”

“I don't fish for food,” Hot Rod answered. “It's a thing I got into with Daniel. Whenever we wanted to have a bit of peace and quiet, just to hang out and enjoy each other's company, we'd go and cast some lines.” He freed the hand wrapped in string, then carefully worked the fish off the hook and gingerly put it back in the lake. “It's just something I do for fun that helps me calm down. Haven't really had the chance to go fishing for a while, so this is nice. It really makes you slow down and take a look at everything around you.”

“Huh… So, the fish have… psychic powers?” Sandstorm asked. “That's a little freaky.”

Hot Rod let out a laugh at Sandstorm’s question.

Alexis screwed up her face with confusion. “Fish have powers??”

“I haven't met one that has,” Hot Rod chuckled. “But if I ever do, I'll let you guys know!”

“Wait, so, how do the fish get you relaxed?” Sandstorm asked.

“The fish don't. It's the scenery and atmosphere that does.” Hot Rod clarified. He gestured to the trees and the grass around them. “There’s a saying that’s popular with the humans. ‘Stop to smell the roses.’ While I wait for the fish to bite, I get to enjoy all this and pay attention to the smaller details I don't pick up when I'm moving from point A to point B.”

“Huh,” Sandstorm mused.

Hot Rod held out the rod to Sandstorm, offering it to him. “Want to try?”

Sandstorm blinked at the offer. “Um, what? Me?”

The red and orange bot snorted at the question. “Who else? Alexis can't hold this.”

“It does look heavy,” Alexis observed.

“For you,” Hot Rod confirmed. “So Sandstorm? It's really simple.”

“Um… Okay.” Sandstorm took a few steps to join Hot Rod in the water, those few steps only enveloping his feet, and took the pole into his hands. “How do you do this?” he asked, observing the makeshift fishing pole.

“Come stand by me,” Hot Rod invited. “The water feels nice and cool on your legs.” Sandstorm hesitated, but continued to wade into the water and joined him.

Hot Rod reached into his subspace and grabbed one of several worms he dug up for bait, then carefully grabbed the fishing line and placed the wiggling worm onto the hook. “Alright. All you have to do is give the line a good cast. Hold the rod tight, raise it like so, and give it a flick.” As he gave these instructions, he demonstrated the motion he described.

“Okay,” Sandstorm nodded as he watched Hot Rod make the motions, copying it slowly at first, and repeated the motions a couple more times. When he felt comfortable, he made the motion faster, letting the line fly through the air, and watched as it landed in the water.

“Ooh, that went kinda far!” Alexis cheered.

“Yeah, that was a decent cast for a beginner,” Hot Rod praised.

“So now what?” Sandstorm asked.

“Now we stand here and wait for a fish to bite,” the Autobot answered.

“Wait? Just like that?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Hot Rod shrugged. “Can’t do much else until a fish bites.”

“So what do we do until then?” Alexis asked.

“Talk. Stand in silence and get lost in thought. Look around at nature. Take your pick."

Sandstorm nodded at what Hot Rod said and then turned his attention to whatever he could for the rest of their time at the lake.

Chapter Text

Redwing poked his head into the seekers’ room, looking around apprehensively. “Hotlink?” he called.

Hotlink had already been in the room the moment Redwing had called. He had just set the twins down to sleep and was sitting on his recharge slab while he waited for Redwing to show up. He turned his head when his trinemate peered in. “Emergency cuddle, you said?"

“Hush!” Redwing hissed. He peered around the room again warily. “Is anyone else in here?”

“No, Sandstorm and Alexis aren't in here and I've put Heartburn and Heatstroke down for a stasis nap.”

The old seeker shuffled his way inside the room, a metal book with golden pages resting in his rigid hands. He appeared to be trying to hide it from unwanted eyes. Once he was inside, he made sure the door was locked as a preventative measure. Couldn’t be too careful when it came to ensuring the secrecy of certain information.

“So what did you find in your reading?” Hotlink asked, eyeing the book that was in Redwing’s hands.

Redwing flipped around and pointed aggressively at the engineer. “Shut up and sit down!” he hissed again. “You have no idea how scared, nervous, and excited I am!”

Hotlink frowned at him as he gestured to himself in his sitting position. “I'm already sitting down! Do you want me to get up and sit down again?! Can you just tell me what's going on?!”

“Ga-bib-dur— Shut up!” Redwing stammered. He moved over to one of the recharge slabs and pulled it closer to Hotlink. Once he felt it was in position, he placed the book on it and opened it up. “Do you know what book this is?” he finally asked.

“Not in the slightest.”

In a hushed and reverent tone that Hotlink had never heard his trinemate use before, the red seeker said, “This is the Covenant of Primus. The original copy. Old Cybertronian and everything.” He began to flip through some of the golden pages.

Hotlink couldn’t help but squint at him with disbelief. “Seriously?? Where did you even get that?”

“I got it… from an old friend.” Redwing paused as he gained a lamenting expression for a brief moment before he shook it off. “But that's besides the point."

“So what did you get out of it?”

“We might be in a little over our heads here…” Redwing admitted. He found the specific page he’d been combing for and began to scan it with his finger.

Hotlink leaned forward a bit to try and peer at the pages. It was in no language he had the knowledge to translate. “Yeah? How over our heads?”

“Stop me if you've heard this.” Redwing cleared his voice box, then read the text aloud, translating it from the Old Cybertronian.

“’And it shall come to pass, when the Chaos Bringer shall reveal his true form, that the Children of Primus shall band together, and fight the being of Chaos. And the Chosen Prime will be revealed when he shall fight the Purple King. And the fight will be for pride and for glory. And the Matrix will be torn from the Purple King’s neck, and the Power of the Matrix shall fill the Chosen Prime. And the Chaos Bringer shall have power no more, for the Power of Primus shall rend him bolt from bolt, plating from plating, until all but his head is no more than scrap. And the Chosen Prime shall begin to usher in an era of peace, bringing forth a new age of peace. And the empire of the Purple King shall be as dust, and his kingdom on a barren rock, and he shall hear whispers, and dark thoughts, driving the king to madness, and he shall harass the Chosen Prime from every front.’”

Hotlink widened his optics slightly as he processed what Redwing was translating. “That's... That's talking about Galvatron and Rodimus!”

Redwing nodded at his trinemate. “Yes. And I didn't even put that together before. Which makes the next part all the more terrifying.”

Hotlink gained a worried look. “What comes next?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, it says here—” the old seeker started as he scanned the page again. “That old bucket head here will be haunted by someone called ‘The Undead Lord.’” He looked back up at the purple seeker. “I have no idea who that is, I haven't been on Cybertron in so long. But the Undead Lord will somehow trick Unicron and take his power… which, wow… and, I quote:

“’The Undead Lord shall gather together his armies. And lo, he shall summon heralds. And they shall go, conquering all they see, all in the name of the Undead Lord. For mercy they shall have none, and when the Chosen Prime shall confront them, the Undead Lord shall cast him off, sending him off to a world of harsh sand. And the Undead Lord shall set his spark upon Cybertron, and upon all the Children of Primus, that he may bring all His children down into the yolk of bondage, that he may force them to give endless glory to him that should be dead.

“’And the Chosen Prime shall bring together his heralds. And his heralds shall bolster the Chosen Prime’s resolve, through their chaos and wisdom and wit. And they shall be away from Cybertron for a time, and they shall gain power and wisdom beyond their years. And when the darkest hour shall fall upon Cybertron, the Chosen Prime shall return, and shall face the Undead Lord, and his heralds with their heralds, and thus shall be the final battle between Primus and his Chosen Prime, and Unicron and his Undead Lord. The one having power given, the other having power taken.’”

Hearing everything that Redwing was reading did not make Hotlink feel better. If anything, hearing all this made Hotlink’s spark miss a pulse. “…What did you get us wrapped up into…?”

“You. Cannot. Blame this on me,” Redwing pointed firmly.

The purple seeker made a scoffing noise and wildly gestured to the book with rising panic. “You're misreading all that, right?! We can't fight against someone like Unicron o-or anybody with that kind of power! We're not equipped for that! We're not nearly strong enough!”

“Well, of course we can’t,” Redwing acknowledged. “That's why we're building up Rodimus… somehow.”

“We can't build up Rodimus if there is no Rodimus!” Hotlink argued. “He told me and Sandstorm flat out that he didn't want to go look for the Autobot Matrix of Leadership!”

He received a shrug and, “So?”

He gaped at his trinemate with disbelieving astonishment, taken aback that Redwing would have the gall to give a response like that. “What do you mean ‘so’?!” he barked.

“The ‘Chosen Prime’ has already been declared. And the victory has already been declared. So what's your point?” Redwing asked.

“But what if it doesn't go as predicted because Rodimus won't take back the Matrix?!”

“I don't know. What do you suggest?”

“You took the Matrix, right?! You can deny it all you want, but it wasn't me, and it wasn't Sandstorm, so that only leaves you!” Hotlink reasoned. “You two have some wonky relationship going on between you, so maybe he'll listen to you if you tell him to take it back!”

“…No…” Redwing answered.

“Because Optimus Prime's ghost gave you instructions??” Hotlink exclaimed with exasperation. “I don't understand how this is supposed to help!”

“Oh, trust me, neither do I.”

Hotlink heaved an intake and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, trying to take everything in. “We can't do this…” he groaned. He raised his head again and gestured to his minicons sleeping in their berths. “We've got children! We can't go galavanting around, beating up evil Unicron spawn with children!”

“Then don't fight them with children,” Redwing pointed out. “But now that you know what I know, you will be fighting.” He also pointed at the minicons, locking optics with Hotlink. “Because their future depends on it.”

Hotlink broke optic contact with Redwing and shifted his gaze to his children. He watched them sleep with a defeated look on his face, realizing what Redwing was saying. “…I would've had to fight, anyway. After all, we're stuck together. There's no way you'd bail from something like this.”

“Well, not unless—” Redwing stopped mid-sentence, looking around for something that had just started making a beeping noise. “What the heck?”

Hotlink sat up fully as the noise hit his audio receptors, too. “What is that?”

“I don't know…” Redwing picked up the book and put it into his cockpit. He moved around the room, trying to find out where the beeping was coming from. Hotlink threw another glance at his minicons before he got up to join in the red seeker’s search to find the source.

The beeping led the two to one of the storage closets inside the recharge area. Redwing opened it up and saw a broken panel, the source of the sudden beeping noise.

"Oh hey!” Redwing exclaimed, pulling the panel out and examining it. “It's the remote radar alert system that we never got around to fixing.”

“Why is it going off now?” Hotlink asked.

“Well, I don't know if you can see this, but there's a problem with this display.” Redwing turned to show Hotlink the broken screen that was flashing intermittently, making it very hard to make out anything that the screen was showing. “The screen's broken.”

Hotlink furrowed his optic ridges as he examined the panel. “You and that weird demon thing didn't do that, I take it.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead, gaining a wearily confused look.

Redwing chuckled. “Well, let's not jump to conclusions here…” He tossed it back into the closet, which probably broke it more. “I'm going up to the cockpit and checking the main monitors.” He turned away from the closet and made his way to the door.

“Should I call the others?” Hotlink asked, joining his trinemate to the exit.

“Nah… We're not in trouble, yet.” Redwing waved a dismissive hand as he unlocked the door. “Maybe if we start to get bombarded from orbit then I'm sure they'd figure it out.”

The duo exited the room and made their way to the control room. Once the two were inside, Redwing took a look around and approached a series of controls, looking at each of them intuitively before speaking up.

“Alright… Where do we keep the sensor displays?” Redwing asked.

Hotlink rolled his optics and walked to one of the drawers at the other end of the control room. “In here, usually.”

“Ah.” Redwing flipped around to face Hotlink and walked towards the drawer, opening it up and pulling out the display. “Good. Now, let's see.” He read the display to make out what was coming towards them. “Oh… Huh… Um…" His face went through several different expressions of concern as he examined it.

“I don't like it when you hesitate like that…” Hotlink stated. “Never fails to give me a sinking feeling…”

“Yeah…” Redwing said through gritted teeth. “Remember that mental hospital we were at a few… I don't know… however long ago it was?” the red seeker asked.

“…Yeah…?"

“Yeah. There's a medical frigate from that facility coming right at us… Kinda.”

“Like… in our direction?” Hotlink clarified. “Not just to the planet but toward us specifically?”

“In our direction,” the old seeker confirmed. “It looks like they're going to land right about there.” He pointed out the window to the open clearing right next to them. “No weapon signatures… yet… maybe…”

“Yeah, uh, if it's all the same to you? I'm going to go equip my blasters.” Hotlink stated as he began to make his way to the exit of the control room. “Just in case…”

“Well, you better get 'em on quick.” Redwing suggested. “They're already here.”

[Perspective Change]

The sound of an approaching ship caught the attention of everyone that took a trip to the lake. Sandstorm himself looked at the ship that passed overhead, and noticed it was traveling in the direction of their own.

“Umm… Were we expecting guests?” the conehead asked.

“No…" Hot Rod frowned. “I think our fishing day got put on hold.” He began wading out of the lake to get to land. “Ditch the rod, we're heading back.” Once he was out of the water, he transformed into vehicle mode and sped off in the direction of the landing craft.

Alexis watched Hot Rod as he exited the lake and transformed. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she saw the Autobot’s alternate mode. “Even his car mode is smaller…” she muttered to herself.

“Yeah… I think I'm beginning to understand why Redwing was so weirded out by that,” Sandstorm added. He, too, waded out of the water and followed the Autobot on foot. He was not as fast as the sports car, but he was able to make his way back to the ship.


Hot Rod didn’t slow down during his drive and he arrived just in time to see the approaching ship beginning to make its landing procedures. He transformed and surveyed the landing ship with suspicion, glancing at the markings that identified it. The sound of the brush and trees moving behind him made him glance back in time to see the tan seeker had finally caught up. “Sandstorm,” the Autobot said with a warning tone, “might want to get Alexis inside. If this is what it looks like, she shouldn't be around.”

Alexis frowned and raised a hand to protect her eyes from the gusting wind as she looked up to get a view of the incoming ship. “Why? Is it bad guys?” she asked.

At that moment, Redwing emerged from their home and put his hands on his hips, watching as the ship began to touch down. “So, which one of my adoring fans wants to come visit me today?”

The ship finally touched down after what felt like forever, and the sound of its engines soon faded and came to a halt. Sandstorm squinted as he examined the red and white markings on the side of the ship.

“Is that one of the medical frigates from that mental asylum?” Sandstorm asked, slowly moving to get Alexis inside the ship.

“Sure is,” Redwing grinned.

Sandstorm paused in his tracks and glared at his trinemate.“What. Did. You. Do?”

“Let's not play the blame game yet,” the Autobot advised. “It's not Redwing's fault that bots can't let go of a grudge.”

Hotlink eventually joined the group and eyed the new ship. “Glad we didn't have to hunt you guys down,” he sighed.

“We weren't that far,” Hot Rod answered, glancing at the seeker, then back at the frigate. “These guys didn't radio, did they?”

“Not at all,” Hotlink answered.

The group continued to stand outside the ship, waiting for it to do anything. Hot Rod glanced to the main viewport and saw some movement, but wasn’t able to fully make it out. And it wasn’t like any other viewport would reveal anything either. Many of the other viewports were tinted to prevent anyone from seeing inside the rest of the ship. A standard practice for most medical vehicles.

“Mm.” Hot Rod huffed, folding his arms, growing impatient at the lack of transparency that the new ship was giving. “Taking their sweet time about coming out.”

It was only a few moments later when the main doors of the ship opened up, and a boarding ramp protruded from the hull. Hot Rod and Hotlink tensed and readied their weapons, prepping themselves for a potential firefight. Sandstorm tensed and shifted to protect Alexis. And Redwing, of course, was the first to speak.

“Come to me, O fangirl of the Red Baron of Death!” the red seeker shouted, splaying forth his arms and smiling as a welcoming gesture. “Stop making me wait and wonder whether or not you want to kill me!”

“Oh stop,” Sandstorm groaned.

Hot Rod peered into the darkness of the ship and hesitated before calling out, “Hello?”

“HELLO! HI!” a shrill voice called back from the inside. That voice was quickly paired with a black and white seeker with red wings, who extended his hands defensively. “Don't shoot me! Please!”

“Well, would you look at this.” Redwing approached the new arrival and looked him over. “Swords? Black body? Red wings? Who are you trying to be? Redwing?”

“W-What?” the new arrival sputtered. “I am Redwing.”

Redwing was stunned. A first as far as his trinemates knew. He took a few steps back and said, “Wow… Never would have thought someone would have been so fascinated by my military career that they would actually take on my name.”

“Oh shut up!” the other Redwing shouted, stomping his foot on the ground. “I am Redwing! That is my name!”

The old seeker was silent for what felt like a long time, then pointed at the new arrival. “Stop that.”

“Look just because Redwing pretends he’s Starscream, doesn’t mean it’s okay to follow his example,” Hotlink commented.

“Yeah!” Redwing agreed, pointing at Hotlink. “What the boring one said!”

“They kind of look alike,” Alexis pointed out with intrigue. “He’s really dedicated to this.”

Hot Rod lowered his arms and strode up to the alternate Redwing to look him over, glancing at their own Redwing now and again to compare the two. This was quickly cut short when the new arrival pulled out what could only be assumed was his makeshift sword and pointed it at Redwing proper.

“STOP MAKING FUN OF ME!” the duplicate demanded.

Hotlink scowled and readied his blaster again, pointing it at the black and red seeker.

Alexis became alert and moved to hide behind Sandstorm’s head just enough to keep safe but also see what was happening. “Are they going to fight?” she whimpered.

“I don't know… This is all so bizarre…” Sandstorm answered quietly, watching the scene intently.

Hot Rod raised his hands at the Redwing duplicate to try and not look hostile. “Nobody’s fighting!” He saw Hotlink with his rifle aimed, and the Autobot gestured for the seeker to lower his weapon, the engineer hesitantly obeying. “Everyone just put the danger things away. We don’t want anyone hurt.”

Redwing was eyeing the duplicate Redwing’s sword and grip on the blade as Hot Rod was talking. “Do… you even know how to use that?” he asked curiously.

“I-I know how to stab!” the alternate declared shakily.

Redwing buckled over as he let out a laugh.

The new Redwing tried to keep his composure in the face of Redwing proper’s laughter. But after a few seconds, he broke, lowering his sword and put on a hurt pout. “No one takes me seriously…" he grumbled.

Surprisingly enough, Redwing noticed the alternate’s emotions and ceased his laughing, giving him a look of concern. “Oh geez, now I feel bad.”

Without warning, a new figure came from the new ship, sporting many of the basic components of a motorcycle type build, but with more slender portions than one normally would, indicating that this was a female version. She also sported a blue and grey color scheme, with a touch of flame decals.

She stepped out of the ship and smiled broadly at the group. “Helloooo~” the femme called with a wave of her hand, approaching Redwing’s counterpart. “I hope you boys aren’t bullying our sweet newborn.” She reached up and gave a few pats to the black seeker’s head, like he was her child. “He’s such a sweetie.”

This new arrival caught mostly everyone off guard, Hot Rod, Hotlink, Sandstorm, and Alexis all pausing to stare at her.

“Bullying wasn’t our intent,” Hot Rod assured when he got his bearings back.

“Mom, shut up!” Redwing declared, not missing a beat and pointing a digit at the femme. “You—” He turned his attention to his counterpart again. “You, Child. Stab me!”

Both the alternate Redwing and Sandstorm stood aghast and let out a “What??” when they heard this bizarre request.

The femme screwed up her face with confusion when she both heard what she was called and the request that Redwing made. “Well, that’s a new one…"

“Not one day without this scrap… Not one…" Hotlink muttered.

“Redwing, you can’t be serious!” Alexis called out, trying to calm the situation down.

“You’re sure you want to be stabbed?” Hot Rod asked, squinting his optics at the red seeker.

“Well, can you handle being stabbed?” Redwing sassed.

Sandstorm let out a groan as he covered his face with his hands.

The alternate Redwing looked back and forth from Redwing to his teammate, trying to figure out what to do. “H-Hotlink, w-what do I do?”

“Best not,” the alternate Hotlink advised. “It could be a trap to give them an excuse to attack.”

“If we wanted to attack you, I would have let Hotlink shoot your Redwing,” Hot Rod informed with a pointed tone.

The female Hotlink frowned and gestured to the purple seeker. “You’re Hotlink?” she asked her alternate.

"Yeah,” Hotlink answered gruffly. “What of it?”

The alternate Hotlink didn’t answer. Instead she merely hummed thoughtfully to herself as she checked out the purple seeker.

Sandstorm leaned over to Hotlink. “Um… She's looking at you weird…" he whispered.

“I know…” Hotlink muttered back. “I don't like any of this…"

“Wait, wait wait wait wait. Are we dealing with some alternate reality stuff today?” Redwing interrupted, glancing around with a smile on his face. “Cool.”

Two more individuals came out of the ship. One of them was a yellow and light green tank with a familiar tank body type. The second was a green and tan helicopter, with guns strapped to his arms and shins, and his propeller and tail as his backpack.

Redwing recognized the tank immediately. “STRAXUS!!! BUDDY!!!” he shouted jubilantly, rushing over to Straxus and placing an arm around him like greeting an old friend.

“B-Beg pardon?” The tank squinted as he tried to piece together what the seeker was saying.

“How was the afterlife, buddy?” Redwing continued, ignoring the question. “How many souls did you promise this time to get out?”

“I… don't follow…”

“I'm tossing out the manifolds theory,” the helicopter muttered to Straxus. “This guy's just plain misclocked."

"Okay, can we just take a second, step back, and start from a point where we can all follow along? Which of you is the leader of this group?” the Autobot leader asked curtly.

"That'd be Straxus here, squirt,” the helicopter grunted pointing his thumb at the leader of their team.

“Cute…" Hot Rod muttered, despising the comment a bit. He shook it off and turned his attention to Straxus, pointing at him questioningly. “Crazy Decepticon mad scientist?”

The alternate Hotlink burst into laughter as she heard the question.

“Crazy scientist— What?” Straxus scrunched up his face in confusion. “What kind of backwards universe did we get sent into?”

"Everything's backwards if you look into a mirror long enough,” Redwing chirped.

“What?” the alternate Redwing asked.

“Mirror…" Hot Rod muttered, as he began to piece things together.

“Hot Rod?” Alexis asked.

“…How did you guys get here?” the Autobot leader asked. “I'm not talking about how did you reach the planet. I'm talking, what happened during your travels?”

“An engineering mistake that helped us… escape from the Autobots,” Straxus answered hesitantly.

“It was AWESOME!” the alternate Redwing interjected excitedly. “While Sandstorm was manning the heavy guns, Hotlink was guiding us through the minefield! and that was when Straxus was like, 'Everyone hold on, we're going to try something dangerous,' and then BOOM, ZOOM! We found ourselves in this dimension!”

“You are just adorable,” Redwing commented. “It's not fair.”

“The Autobots, huh?” Hot Rod mused.

“Mhm.” The alternate Hotlink hummed as she walked over to the Autobot leader, put herself close to him, and lightly placed a finger against the insignia on his chest plate. “Just like you. Which begs the question…" She removed her finger from his chest and had it trace his spoiler fin. “How did an Autobot like you come to be in the presence of Decepticons without being an enemy?”

The chopper rolled his optics and muttered something under his breath. He quickly received an, “Oh hush, Sandstorm,” and a glare from the femme.

Hot Rod shuddered and blushed when his spoiler was touched, causing him to lose his train of thought for a moment. “U-Uh…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, see, um… Galvatron, uh… I invited…" It took him a minute to both realize that he was struggling to speak and to shake himself back into reality. Hot Rod cleared his throat once again and took a step back, removing her hand from his spoiler. “Galvatron cancelled the seeker project. They were on their own, seeking refuge from Galvatron. I promised them protection and a place to stay,” he finally answered.

“You know what? I think we've all had a rough day,” Redwing announced. “I should tell stories ‘round a campfire.”

“Campfire?” alternate Redwing asked curiously.

“And s’mores," the red seeker added.

“What's a sumoore?” the alternate queried again.

“I'll be right back.” The old mech suddenly darted into their ship, leaving everyone else.

Straxus watched the seeker go back into his ship and waited before asking his question. “Is he… assembled properly?”

Sandstorm let out a sigh. “You don't want to know.”

“Why?” the alternate Redwing asked.

“Because the answer is both ‘yes’ and ‘no’,” Hotlink elaborated while still remaining vague. “Whatever you do, don’t mention rust to him.”

“Rust?" the alternate Sandstorm asked.

“He’s a good mech to have by your side,” Hot Rod assured. “He’s just frustrating because he does things his own way. And he won’t explain unless you really push him.”

“He beat a demon that was haunting our ship, and talked with ghosts!" Alexis added enthusiastically as she stepped out from behind Sandstorm's head.

“Ghosts?!?” The alternate Redwing jumped and turned to where the voice came from, only just now registering that there was someone else with them that he couldn’t immediately see. He glanced around frantically and soon stopped when he saw the little girl stood atop Sandstorm’s shoulder. He tilted his head in confusion. “Wh… Is that a pet?”

“She's not a pet!” Sandstorm gasped, offended by the mere notion. “She's my daughter!”

“I apologize if this sounds offensive,” Straxus declared, “but you all are the most bizarre lot I have ever encountered in this universe.”

“No offense taken. Some days I have the exact same thought,” Hot Rod shrugged.

Alexis folded her arms and frowned at the comment the alternate Redwing had made. “I’m not some animal!” she huffed.

“Your daughter, you say?” Alternate Hotlink got closer to peer at child. “So small. Adorable~” She commented before tilting her head to look at Sandstorm while pointing at Alexis. “May I?” she asked, looking to see if she could hold the tiny human.

Sandstorm hesitated for a moment, unsure if he could trust this new arrival. He looked at Alexis with a bit of concern, nonverbally asking her if it was all right. Upon receiving a disgruntled nod, he then turned his attention back to alternate Hotlink. "I guess, as long as you don't hurt her."

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the femme assured. She started to reach for Alexis, only to stop as Alexis backed away and raised her hands to stop her.

“Don’t just grab me!” the little girl objected. “Put your hand flat and your thumb up like this.” She demonstrated the motion with her palm up, the fingers and thumb extended as to not look threatening, but also provide a hold for her.

The alternate Hotlink watched for a moment before doing likewise, shifting her hand to match that of the little girl’s. Once the hand looked as Alexis demonstrated, the human made her way onto the femme’s hand, using the thumb for balance.

“Oh…" The alternate Hotlink admired her, and brought up her other hand to gently run down Alexis’ hair, gently feeling the difference that an organic presented. “Soft…” She turned her head to call over her shoulder to the other members of her team. “Redwing, Sandstorm, Straxus, come look at this—this, er—”

“Human,” Alexis informed.

While this was taking place, Hotlink and the alternate Sandstorm had been glancing at each other, hesitantly but curiously. Eventually, Hotlink was the first to state his feelings. “This is just wrong…"

“You’re telling me. Hey, your plating isn’t loose like hers, is it? You don’t just go pulling any ol’ bot onto your spike?” the alternate asked bluntly.

Hotlink was taken aback at this question, screwing up his face with disgust at the mere thought of what Sandstorm’s counterpart suggested.

“I! Have! Standards!” Hotlink’s alt interjected furiously, casting a glare at him over her shoulder. “You’re being dramatic and extremely invasive!”

“It’s a reasonable question,” the chopper shrugged.

“I really don’t think what Hotlink’s personal affairs are is any of your business,” Hot Rod defended.

The alternate shrugged off the comment as if it was nothing.

“Sandstorm, behave,” Straxus warned. He moved over to his team’s Hotlink and examined the human for himself. “So this is a human, hm? I've heard about them, but never actually seen one up close.”

"Are they dangerous?” the Redwing counterpart asked.

“I think It depends. I read some of Starscream's reports when he was on earth chasing after Hot Rod.” Straxus tilted his head to the side. “I think one of them had the capability to put us in temporary hibernation.”

Alternate Redwing gasped as he looked at Straxus with fear. “What??”

“I… don't think Alexis has that capability,” Sandstorm stated slowly, not totally sure one way or the other.

“Humans don't have super powers,” Alexis stated, looking a bit confused at the new team’s back-and-forth. “That's just comic book stuff.”

“Comic book?” alternate Hotlink echoed questioningly.

The new team apparently hadn’t heard of this term before, as they appeared befuddled. It was understandable. Alexis had to inform Hotlink and Sandstorm both what comic books were, as well. Not a common Cybertron thing, evidently. “Like fake stories?” Alexis clarified. “Stuff people make up for fun.”

“Starscream isn't one for making stuff up,” Sandstorm’s alternate stated.

“That's weird to hear…" Hot Rod commented.

“I think weird is a matter of perspective right now,” Straxus suggested.

The clanking and rustling of metal chairs and equipment interrupted everyone’s conversations, and soon Redwing could be seen coming back out of the ship, carrying an axe, a backpack, and several other assorted items and chairs. “I GOT THE STUFF!!!” he yelled victoriously.

“Is all that… really necessary?” Sandstorm asked, looking the items over.

“Absolutely." Redwing dropped some of the items in one spot to get it all off his back. “Oh, by the way, Hotlink, your kids were crying, so I gave them my fingers.” He held up his hand, showing his missing middle and ring fingers.

Hotlink’s optics immediately widened as he heard the news, and he moved past everyone to dart inside the ship to take care of his minicons.

“Cybertron below me,” Sandstorm’s alternate cursed. “Do you all have younglings?”

“Just Sandstorm and Hotlink,” Hot Rod answered.

“Do you not have a war going on?” the femme inquired with disbelief.

Redwing pulled out the axe from the pile, looking it over to see if it was still sharp. “Only if we're shooting each other.” He walked over to the nearby trees and began to make quick work of them.

“I think we still do?” Sandstorm guessed. “Although no one ever talks about it so… no?"

“Do you all have a war going on or not?” Straxus demanded. “This shouldn't be a hard question.”

Redwing came back as quickly as he had wandered off, now with some fresh firewood in hand. The trees never stood a chance. “We're going to have a war, if that tickles your fancy.”

“Going to?” the alternate Redwing asked.

“Oh, you know,” Redwing clarified. “Undead lords, beings of god level powers duking it out, and the like.”

Straxus paused for several seconds before he spoke. “Is he serious? Ever?”

“A while ago, I would have said 'no',” Hot Rod answered. “But this is actually Redwing being ‘serious'."

“I don't think this qualifies as ‘serious'," Straxus grumbled.

The femme returned Alexis to Sandstorm's shoulder then turned and leaned in to whisper into their Redwing's audio receptor. “Don't turn into that Redwing.”

“Well, yeah,” the alternate Redwing agreed with a nod. “But I have this feeling in my ember, y'know? Like he knows something…"

“Don't get your turbines in a twist,” Sandstorm interrupted, overhearing the exchange. “Redwing always knows something. It's just a question of whether or not he wants to share.”

Chapter Text

Everyone watched as Redwing gathered together logs and rocks to make a fairly sizable campfire. He seemed pretty enthused about it, too. It wasn’t even fully up yet when he called, “Alright, everyone gather 'round! Pull up a chair and grab an energon goodie! Make a s’more!”

Hot Rod smiled at the scene and approached one of the chairs, setting it up and taking a seat before picking up items to begin working on food craft.

The alternates of Sandstorm and Hotlink exchanged looks with each other. The copter raised an optic ridge, as if waiting for instructions, only to get a shrug from the femme before she took a chair for herself and sat down near the fire. She was hesitantly followed by the alternate Sandstorm, who sat down next to her.

“You've got the human stuff, too, right?” Alexis asked hopefully.

“Yes! In that bag.” Redwing pointed to a nearby bag as he began to play with a lighter to ignite the fire. “I've got chocolate, marshmallows, and ghramm crackers.”

“Are you pronouncing that right?” conehead Sandstorm asked.

The fire ignited and quickly came to life, which coincided nicely with Redwing shouting “GHRAMM!” to drive whatever point he was making home.

Straxus picked up one of the folding chairs and examined it, before unfolding it and setting it down. “So, how long have you guys been in the area?” he asked.

“We've been parked here for about a few days, now,” Hot Rod replied. “Things have been crazy, so we figured we'd wait until things settled down before we take off again.”

“It seems to me like you bring the ‘crazy’ with you wherever you lot go,” Straxus commented.

“Hey, that's very unkind,” Redwing scolded, pointing a finger at the tank. “I don't make fun of you for bringing the boring with you.”

“Can't fault that, though, Redwing,” the Autobot said, shooting a glance at the seeker. “It's true. Who else can claim that they've made a non-carrier deliver?”

Hotlink's alternate let out a giggle and gave him a disbelieving but amused look. “Excuse me??”

“I know how to make people have babies,” Redwing declared, taking a seat next to his alternate.

“Wait, like…” Straxus paused, trying to put the information together. “New life sort of newborns?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“How?” Straxus asked incredulously.

“Ancient Chinese secret,” Redwing smirked.

“The frag is Chinese?” Sandstorm’s alternate squinted.

“Daddy says that's a bad word,” Alexis declared.

The alternate paused for a second. “’Chinese’?”

“No, the other one,” Alexis corrected.

Sandstorm’s alternate stared at the human for a moment more, trying to piece together which word Alexis was talking about. He blinked as he realized which word she was talking about, then scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “It's a word. Harmless.”

“I'm pretty sure a word is what started a multi-million year long war, too…” Redwing commented, but shrugged off his own thought. “But that's just my experience…”

“It is a bad word. Not one for children to learn,” the conehead Sandstorm stated firmly.

“But Sandstorm says it all the time…” Redwing’s alternate defended.

“And look at how moronic he is,” Redwing blurted without thinking.

Sandstorm’s doppelganger turned and locked optics with the red seeker, glaring at him with a grin. “You picking a fight?”

Hot Rod let out a sigh and ran a hand down his face, disappointed at the situation Redwing was causing.

“I'm just stating facts,” Redwing smiled. “Much like how you are just saying words.”

The alternate Sandstorm made a move to get up from his seat and charge at Redwing, but he was quickly intercepted by the alternate Hotlink, who shoved him back into his seat. “Femme—!” he cursed aloud.

“You brought that on yourself,” she scolded. “Sit down.”

The copter growled and crossed his arms like a toddler, begrudgingly retaking and remaining in his seat.

Once the situation settled down, the femme Hotlink sat back down gracefully and crossed her legs, making herself comfortable to pick up where the copter left off before he almost lost his temper. “So as he was asking. ‘Chinese’?” she inquired politely.

“Just a type of human. Like how we label bots from different cities,” Hot Rod answered. “Mind if I slip in a question of my own?”

“Certainly,” Straxus granted.

“It better be the same question I have…” Redwing muttered.

“I was going to ask about the Autobots they were running from.” Hot Rod cocked an optic ridge at him, surprised at Redwing’s comment. “What were you going to ask?”

“I was going to ask why they were here. I figured that would have been an obvious question to know the answer to first,” Redwing reasoned.

“I fail to see how those two questions are different.” Straxus defended.

“THEY’RE DIFFERENT IN EVERY WAY!” Redwing shouted with exasperation.

“No, Redwing has a good point.” Hot Rod frowned and turned his gaze back to the new transformers that arrived. “You were running from Autobots and went through some accidental time/space warp. But what brings you to this spot specifically? You could have landed anywhere on the planet. But you chose to land next to us.”

“We're… looking for a couple people,” Straxus answered hesitantly. “This is the closest Cybertronian frequency we detected. We were hoping you could help us find them.”

“If you tell us who you're looking for,” Hot Rod probed.

“Redwing,” Straxus called. The black and white seeker turned towards his commander, but the tank also got the attention of Redwing prime, whom perked up and gave him a grin, throwing Straxus off for a second. “Not you.” He refocused on his team member. “Grab the blade.”

Redwing’s alternate perked up and smiled as he heard the orders. He promptly got up and rushed as fast as he could to get into their ship.

“He's looking for someone in particular,” Straxus continued. “We, on the other hand, are looking for this universe's version of Optimus Prime.”

Redwing, Sandstorm, and Hot Rod all tensed up as they heard the name of the person they were looking for.

“Oh. Ummm…” Redwing fidgeted for a moment.

Hot Rod took in a deep intake, then hardened his gaze on Straxus. “…Sure. I can point you in the direction of the asteroid where what's left of his body rests.”

Hotlink’s double gained a startled look as she heard the answer. “He's dead?”

“Yeah,” Hot Rod answered tersely.

Hotlink finally came back out of the ship, holding his minicons as he approached the group to take a seat next to Sandstorm. As he got closer, he could feel the air of unease and gained a quizzical look, but decided to stay quiet and see if he could figure out what he missed.

“Megan and OP may have punched each other a little too hard…” Redwing added.

“Wait, that's what happened?” Sandstorm asked, calling Redwing’s bluff.

“That may have been an over-exaggeration, but yes,” Redwing corrected. “They did punch each other a lot that day.”

“Well, that's just perfect…” Sandstorm’s alternate groaned. “Of all the luck…”

Redwing quickly lost focus in the conversation, but his attention was immediately pulled when he saw his alternate walking out of the frigate with a crimson blade that was lined with intricate and shimmering markings that sparkled in the light of the fire.

“OH MY GOSH!” Redwing gasped, getting to his feet. “THAT BLADE IS SO PRETTY!!!” He rushed over to his alternate to look the blade over.

Everyone turned to see what the young Redwing had brought out. Alexis leaned forward a little and released a breath of awe as she saw the blade.

“Who's is that?” prime Hotlink asked.

“This?” The alternate Redwing glanced down at the blade and held it up. “We may have stolen it from some Autobots back on Cybertron.”

“It's the Dark Saber,” Straxus answered. “The Autobots were going to lock it away. We rescued it.”

Redwing ogled the blade for a few seconds before extending his hand to take the blade. “May I?” he asked.

The other Redwing hesitated for a second, and turned to Straxus, who gave his team member a nod of approval. The alternate then handed the blade over to Redwing.

“Don't cut your arm off,” Sandstorm teased with a grin. “Hotlink may have to repair you again.”

Hotlink muttered something under his breath in response to that comment.

“Ha ha,” Redwing laughed as forcefully as he could. He began to swing it around a little. “Hm… Nice balance…”

“You're a swordsman, Redwing?” Hot Rod asked curiously.

“I… may have played with the Star Saber once or twice…” Redwing smirked as he continued to look the sword over. Without warning, Redwing tossed the sword in the air and let it twirl before catching it expertly and swung the sword with a lot more grace and speed that somehow shown the mark of an expert swordsman.

“Huh… Maybe Redwing should learn from this guy instead of you, eh Sandstorm?” Straxus turned his head towards the copter.

“If his sword arm's better than his processor,” the copter huffed.

“You're such a protoform,” femme Hotlink chided. “You can't deny skill like that.”

“I guess,” he growled reluctantly.

“It's strange though…” Redwing commented, slowing down his moves as he examined the sword again. “The blade feels… dead? Like its purpose and drive has been taken from it somehow.” He sighed and handed the sword back to his younger self.

The alternate was stunned for a few seconds, watching Redwing in awe as he witnessed the moves the older mech had made. He took the sword and somehow got his voice back. “Well, maybe you could help find who I'm looking for!”

“Uh huh.” Redwing went back over to his spot and picked up an energon cube. “And who's that?” he asked before he tilted the cube to take a sip from it.

“Theatricus Minor,” came the answer.

Without warning, Redwing spat so hard, he sent out the pink fluid from his mouth. He managed to miss everyone with the projectile droplets, thankfully enough, but it made a mess all over him.

The prime team shot glances at each other, confused as to why that name caused Redwing to spit out his drink. Sandstorm and Hotlink turned to Hot Rod, who looked just as confused as they did.

“Haven’t heard that name before,” the Autobot shrugged.

“Who is that?” Alexis asked, peering at the older Redwing expectantly.

“Umm… You okay?” the Redwing doppelganger added.

Redwing took a second to wipe his mouth of the energon he spat out. “I’m fine.” He waved in assurance. “Theatricus Minor… Where did you hear that name?”

“The sword whispered it to me when I picked it up,” his alternate replied.

The red seeker paused and looked the young one up and down with a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah… Wait, do you know him?” the black and white seeker asked.

The local eccentric shrugged. “I might. But first—” He spun around and took a seat on the makeshift chair, patting the seat next to him. “Take a load off. Sit. Eat. Let's get to know each other a little bit more.”

Redwing’s alternate tilted his head to the side before taking his seat back next to him proper, while Hotlink’s alternate also tilted her head to the side as she tried to analyze what Redwing was thinking. Hot Rod exchanged glances between Hotlink, Sandstorm, and Alexis, all of them still confused and curious at Redwing’s response to a simple name. Not that it seemed like they were going to get answers to their questions any time soon, knowing the red seeker.

Redwing didn’t notice the silence at first, taking a sip of energon before he realized that he was being watched and no background conversations were taking place. “What?” he asked. “Am I going to have to start every single conversation around here? Come on, guys.”

Hot Rod cleared his throat, signaling everyone else to stop looking at the two Redwings for a moment. “Right. What did you need Optimus for?” he asked Straxus, turning to face the commander.

“To… study him,” the yellow and green tank answered slowly. “How he moves, how he thinks. I want to know all of it.”

“That's kinda creepy,” Sandstorm winced.

“It's my job to. I'm a… a-a behavioral specialist.” Straxus shook his head after this sentence as if he was clearing his mind of something. “I watch and study how everyone acts and try to understand them.”

“Right, right,” Redwing acknowledged. “But our Prime has kinda bitten the bullet, so what are you going to do now?”

“…That's a good question,” Straxus admitted.

“Why did you want him specifically?” Hot Rod prodded, his tone gradually growing sharper as talk of the previous Prime continued.

“Bit too interested in the whys, aren't you?” Sandstorm’s alternate defended.

“Optimus was as close to a mentor as I had. Anything that was Optimus' business before is now mine,” he proclaimed before repeating, “So why Optimus Prime specifically?”

“I see we're hitting all the touchy subjects today,” Hotlink whispered to his Sandstorm.

“You don't know the half of it,” the conehead whispered back.

“…That information is classified.” Straxus answered after some thought. “I'm afraid I cannot share it with you.”

The two went back and forth for a while, trying to get answers and information out of the other. It was a conversation that Redwing quickly got bored of, and so he turned to his alternate to have a conversation of his own.

“While the children are talking, I think it's time I got to know you a little bit better.”

“Umm, oh… Okay.” The black and white seeker blinked.

“So tell me about yourself. Where did you come from, what do you do, any special love interests among the group. You know. Standard talk.”

“Oh, um… I was assembled in upstate Kaon. I was part of a design scheme that Starscream recommended. Umm… In this team I'm a bit of a rookie. Sandstorm is trying to train me to be a close-combat specialist.”

“Which is why you're trying to find Theatricus Minor?” Redwing asked.

“Yeah. I'm just… not good at it yet. And it's this darn blade.” The black seeker pulled out the Saber and laid it across his lap. “It worked once and then it died. I don't understand.”

“Don't worry about the blade. That's a problem that can be solved later,” Redwing waved, assuring his younger counterpart. “But on to love interests. Anyone special back on Cybertron? You probably don't have someone in this group. I can tell none of them are your type.”

“Well…” the white faceplate of the alternate almost began to glow bright red at the question. “I have this femme back home...”

“Oooooh, what's her name?”

“Silvercloud…” he said sheepishly.

The red seeker’s attitude faltered. “Oh… Cool. Wh-What do you like about her?” Redwing stuttered while trying to keep his smile.

“Oh… Where do I begin? She's so kind and nice. She loves poetry and just loves to make things. And she has this air of confidence that just makes it seem like the whole world can come down on her and she can just ignore it all.”

“Sounds… inspiring…”

The young Redwing let out a dreamy sigh. “She is~”

“D-Do you think she's going to be safe on your Cybertron?” Redwing asked, now trying to hide his shakes.

“Well, I had to leave her when I joined up with the rest of the Decepticons. She's in the care of… I think it was Moonracer?”

“…Well, at least she's safe…” Redwing’s gaze wandered back to the campfire, his smile gone and his body lightly rattling. This was a sight that caught Hotlink’s attention, and he watched the two intently as he let the minicons in his lap play with Redwing's fingers.

“…Seems we can't help you after all.” Hot Rod’s sentence came blurting back to the foreground. He was clearly agitated and doing what he could to keep a calm composure. His tone was even and low, but his icy expression betrayed his true feelings. Apparently the interrogation had not gone favorably. “Sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“I don't think we came all this way here for nothing,” Straxus retorted, glaring at the Autobot in return. “Our Redwing needs training. And your Redwing seems to have the skills he needs to train him with.”

“If you'll all excuse me,” Redwing interrupted as he got up and dusted himself off. “I need to take care of something.” He started to leave the campfire and took a few steps toward the ship.

“You alright?” his counterpart asked.

“I-I'm fine…” the red seeker struggled to assure as he glanced over his shoulder. “Just enjoy the night together…” He turned back again and shakily made his way inside.

“What’s with him?” Sandstorm asked, watching Redwing leave the group.

“I hope he’s okay,” Alexis said with concern.

Hot Rod, along with most everyone around the fire, watched the red seeker leave. Once he was gone, the Autobot turned his attention back to Straxus. “That’s assuming Redwing is willing,” he countered.

“Why wouldn’t he?” the female seeker asked.

“Perhaps we should ask him when he comes back,” Straxus added.

“We have our own things we have to do, too, you know,” the Autobot said stubbornly.

Hotlink was one of the few that didn’t watch Redwing leave the group. He kept his gaze on where Redwing was seated a few seconds ago. When he felt that Redwing officially departed, he leaned over to Sandstorm. “I’ll be back later,” he whispered. He rose to his feet and, with minicons in hand, headed back inside to go after Redwing.

[Perspective Change]

Redwing strode into the kitchen and pulled out a large kitchen knife. He stared into the cold stainless steel blade for a moment before he moved over to the kitchen table and began to remove certain components from his chest, until he got to what was supposed to be his spark region, but in place of a spark was a black box. He had to finagle with cables, but he was quickly able to remove the cube from his chest and place it on the table.

Redwing then raised the kitchen knife. He hesitated for a second, his hand shaking, then, once the tears started flowing from his optics, he brought the knife down hard and fast. Of course, it didn’t penetrate or make so much as a dent, but he tried. Over and over again, trying to stab the black box, tears gushing out of his optics. Eventually, he released a yell as he brought the knife down one last time, only for the blow to break the knife, shattering it to pieces. He let out a small shuddering breath as he collapsed to the floor and dragged the box with him.

Hotlink was just down the hall when he heard the scream. He picked up the pace and entered the doorway, only to pause at the sight before him. This usually chaotic and grinning joker now a weepy heap on the floor. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Redwing like this, but it was certainly a rare occurrence in the little over four million years that they’d known each other. The purple seeker carefully set his minicons on the floor, away from the broken shards of metal and knelt beside Redwing, leaning over him with a look of pained sympathy. “Redwing…”

“Oh… Hi, Hotlink…” Redwing paused with a sniff and looked at the mess he made. “I guess you saw all that?”

“I didn't see…” Hotlink replied. “But I'm pretty certain I heard the end of it…”

Redwing let out a long sigh. “Right.”

The two waited in silence for what felt like forever. Redwing didn’t particularly seem like he wanted to talk, but Hotlink knew better.

“…Open up to me,” the purple seeker pleaded. “Please…”

“Ohhhh…” Redwing groaned. “Where do I start…?”

“What set you off…?”

Redwing paused again, letting out a long sigh before he admitted, “I miss her, Hotlink. …I miss Silvercloud. And I feel so bad. I've been so distracted for the past… however long I've been without her… I almost completely forgot she existed…”

Hotlink gave Redwing's hand a squeeze of sympathy. “I'm sorry…”

Redwing chucked at Hotlink’s response. “It's not your fault. I never told you. I never told anyone.”

“No. You never tell anyone…” Hotlink confirmed. “How much more is festering in you like this…?”

“Oh… You know… My age… My life… How many people I've killed… How many more planets I've destroyed. The usual.”

There, he was doing it again. Half answers given in half-joke form to continue hiding things. “It doesn't…” Hotlink paused, thinking about his next words. “It doesn’t have to be a secret… You can talk to me about this stuff…”

“Oh, it absolutely does,” Redwing countered. “With the amount of things I know, all of you are too stupid to understand them. And I'm not saying that to be condescending, it's just the hand you've been dealt.” He paused again, letting out a laugh before continuing. “It's so strange to think you all are so stupid and it's not your fault. It hurts so much… all I can do is laugh.”

“Have you ever thought that we're not going to get smarter to be able to get to that point if you just call us stupid and dismiss us when we ask questions?” Hotlink asked. “The point of us asking questions is to gain knowledge and help us get smarter, isn't it?”

The red seeker held fast. “True. But I can't. You all aren't ready for the knowledge I have… yet… It's got to be unlocked through stages… just like with Alexis. She’s only ten and she knows so much. She even knows how to get into the Library.”

Hotlink let out a sigh and decided it was best to no longer push the issue. “Yeah… Fine… Just…” He moved to start picking up the shards of the broken knife. “Don't do this again… You're not just hurting yourself by doing this…” He trailed off at the end of his sentence, forming a connection with what Redwing had just done and the burning that Hotlink put himself through. He fell silent for a moment, but his train of thought was broken as he spotted one of the twins reaching for a shard. He let out a gasp and hurriedly grabbed it to keep it away from the minicon. “Hey. No no. That's not fuel. That's bad for you.”

Redwing chuckled and sat back up, beginning to grab the parts he pulled out of himself and put them back in their proper place within his body. “He's a good bot, y’know?” he suddenly spoke up.

“Kid you?” Hotlink asked.

“No… Kid other Redwing,” Redwing clarified. “He's got a good spark. Not like those other twerps that claim to be good.”

“That's who I meant,” Hotlink muttered before he spoke up. “But yeah, I'm really… not impressed with other Hotlink and other Sandstorm... Don't know what I think about that Straxus yet. Is other Redwing going to be okay with them?”

“Ummm…” Redwing thought about the question for a moment. “Probably not. Which is why I'm going to do everything I can to take him under my wing. He's ready, for sure.”

“We're going to take him with us and send the others on their way?” Hotlink glanced at him.

“You know… There's something that makes me think they won't leave that easily,” Redwing shared. “From what I've gathered from Straxus, there's more he's not telling us. And I think it isn't classified.”

“Yeah, that ‘classified’ excuse didn't sit right with me. Obviously didn't for Hot Rod.” Hotlink hesitated before he asked his next question. “How are we going to get that out of him, is the thing?”

“I don't know. But I can do what I've been doing since when I was brought back online.” Redwing put the final pieces back into his chest and closed it back up. “I can buy us time to find out.”

Hotlink took some time to think before he gave his solution. “…Maybe if we have Hot Rod move away from them. Come back inside or something like that. They said something about Starscream chasing Hot Rod where they're from. They probably don't trust ours.”

“Oh, not at all.” Redwing rose back up to his feet and brushed some of the metal shards off him. “I think we need to learn about their universe first. Ask some big questions about where they're from.”

Hotlink gave Redwing a nod and continued to pick up the pieces of the knife. Once the shards were collected, he tossed them in the trash and picked the twins up off the floor. He glanced at Redwing as he took a step toward the doorway. “Do you need a moment to clean up? You've got some streaks on your face.”

“Oh, do I?” Redwing glanced around to find a reflective surface to see his face. The closest thing was the glass on the oven. Though, Primus-knew how he could see his own reflection through the dirt and grime on it. “Eh, it's dark. I'll live,” he shrugged.

“Alright.” Hotlink turned and led the way out of the ship to join the rest of the group at the campfire.

[Outside]

The group saw the two seekers exiting the ship and Hot Rod stood up and glanced between the two before he spoke.

“Everything all right?”

“It's settled,” Hotlink assured, retaking the spot that he had earlier.

“Alright,” Redwing smiled at the group. “What happened while I was gone?”

“The Autobot and I were having a disagreement,” Straxus answered tactfully. “I'm hoping you would be willing to settle it for us.”

“Certainly! What is it?”

“Redwing, our Redwing, needs sword training. I was wondering if you would be—”

“Yes. I will train him,” Redwing interrupted.

Hot Rod blinked at the quickness of the red seeker’s response, and lowered his shoulders in some defeat. “I… guess that's that.”

“We've got a new member?” Alexis gasped with an excited smile.

Hotlink’s alternate let out a strained laugh. “It's not like we're just handing Redwing over, little one.”

“We just want our Redwing to get training from someone who knows their stuff,” Straxus elaborated. “And I think your Redwing would be an excellent teacher for him.”

“Naturally,” the older Redwing grinned.

“Wait, is this really happening??” The younger Redwing perked up in excitement. “You're really training me??”

“Kid, you're probably the most precious thing I have ever encountered,” Redwing complimented.

“Oh good,” Sandstorm muttered. “He has someone else to harass…”

“I don't think he'd be that mean,” Alexis defended.

“So are we traveling together now?” Hot Rod asked grumpily. “We know training isn't just a one and done thing, after all, and we can't stay on this planet forever.”

“Psh. We won't be going anywhere. Here is as good a place as any to train,” Redwing argued. “Besides, I think learning about other universes can be fascinating. What do you think, Hotlink?”

Hotlink nodded. “I agree. We can exchange knowledge. Compare and contrast. I'm sure we could learn a lot from each other.”

Hot Rod looked back and forth between the two seekers, then let out a defeated sigh. “…Well, since you're in agreement.”

“What's the matter, Autobot?” Straxus inquired cooly. “You don't seem to like that.”

Hot Rod immediately shot him a sharp look. “You know, there's a lot of things that I don't like,” he declared, “like you not using my name when I have been a good host and used yours. But I think I've gotten pretty darn good at just gritting my teeth and letting life take its course. This is Redwing's decision, and I can't tell him what to do, so I'll deal with it. Are you going to make it a bigger issue than it needs to be?”

Straxus raised his hands and begun to move them in a defensive manner at the challenge. “I don't mean to make it one.”

“You know, you all seem to not trust dear ol' Roddy here,” Redwing observed. “And I don't understand why. I mean look at him.” He waltzed over to the Autobot and began to point out different features on him, emphasizing them with a poke from his fingers. “He has the cute little wings, and the cute little cheeks, and his cute little frame. What's not to like?”

“Yeah… That's a good point,” Sandstorm realized with a frown. “What's up with that?”

“I think the real question here is: What are Decepticons like you doing with an Autobot?” Sandstorm’s alternate retorted. “The Autobots are the enemy.”

“I'm sorry. He's cute, I'll grant you, but at the end of the day, he's one of them,” the femme added. “Why have you not turned him over to your leader?”

Alexis jumped to her feet while still on Sandstorm's shoulder with an indignant look on her face. “Hot Rod's our leader!” she shouted insistently.

“So you defected,” the chopper summarized.

“We haven't fully defected,” Hotlink defended. “We just don’t like Galvatron and we've decided to remove ourselves from his war.”

“We were shot at as we left,” Redwing added. “Galvatron really hated Starscream and anyone that looked like him.”

“Wait, THAT'S why we left?” Sandstorm gasped, hearing this for the first time. “I thought there were some other goons that were trying to kill us!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Redwing clarified. “If we stayed we would have died either way.”

“Galvatron?” Straxus asked, tilting his head to the side.

“The new leader of the Decepticons,” Hot Rod answered. “Megatron died the same day Optimus did. Starscream started to take over the lead, but Galvatron swooped in and killed him and claimed the title for himself. The seeker program was shut down and an order went out to have any seekers found and executed. Coneheads like Sandstorm are… barely tolerated.”

Hotlink glanced over to Sandstorm. “Just being in a trine with us is enough for your life to be forfeit as far as Galvatron's concerned.”

Alexis irritation turned to a horrified expression and she wrapped her little arms around the side of Sandstorm's head as far as they could go. “He can't kill you guys!” she protested. “He can’t!”

Sandstorm smiled and did his best to move into Alexis' hug without crushing the little girl. “I don't think he can hurt us from here.” He glanced at his trinemates in the hope he could get confirmation on what he said.

“Oh, trust me,” Redwing assured. “In comparison to me, he's off his rocker, and looking to conquer every known planet in the galaxy, rebuilt and refueled by the powers of darkness.”

“What?” the black and white seeker tilted his head and stared at his counterpart, utterly baffled.

“He took a plasma bath too long and fried his brain. And liked it.” Redwing would have continued, but he quickly noticed the rest of the alternate universe team staring at him with concern. “I feel like all of this is a foreign concept to all of you.”

“Your… The Decepticon leader is the energon-thirsty tyrant??” the female seeker asked in disbelief.

“Most Decepticons are energon-thirsty,” Hot Rod answered. “Most of the ones I've met, anyway.”

“That can't be right…”

“Thirsty for Autobot energon, you mean, obviously,” Sandstorm’s counterpart jumped in.

“I have seen cybertronians, aliens, and humans alike mowed down by Galvatron and his army,” Hot Rod corrected, but he began to clench his fist as he thought about all the times he witnessed Galvatron’s ruthlessness. “He beats his own second-in-command and those in his army over minuscule things. He is in no way a good bot.”

“So… Galvatron gave the Decepticons a bad image… right?” Straxus asked.

Redwing stared at Straxus for what felt like forever, but then suddenly he gained a face of understanding. “OHHHHHHHH!”

“Wait… The Decepticon faction where you come from isn't ruthless?” Hotlink inquired.

“No! Gracious, no!” Hotlink’s counterpart exclaimed.

“Where we come from, Optimus is the tyrant and his Autobots aren't any better,” the chopper added.

“So that's why you don't trust Hot Rod!” Sandstorm put together. “That makes so much more sense. I was wondering there for a second, because every time Hot Rod would ask you something, you would deflect.”

“…Very observant…” Straxus strained.

“Wait, so, does that make all of you the bad guys here?” Redwing’s alternate asked.

“Oh trust me, only two of us are actually capable of harming anyone,” Redwing said like a liar.

“Which two?” the femme pried.

“Not important,” Hot Rod deflected, folding his arms. “So is this new knowledge going to change anything here or no?”

Both Staxus and his Sandstorm exchanged skeptical glances between each other before turning back to the rest of the group.

“I would have to talk about it with my team,” Straxus decided. “This is a lot to take in.”

“That's usually how it is for…” Redwing paused in the middle of his sentence, his face turning from joyful to increasingly concerned. “Wait… Wait wait wait.”

“What is it?” Sandstorm asked.

“Hotlink, what was the name of that femme that was all teal and weirdly bubbly and nice?” Redwing asked.

“Moonracer?” Hotlink guessed.

“Yeah, her! She was an Autobot, yeah?”

“Yeah, solidly.”

Redwing’s optics widened with horror. “Oh…”

“What are you getting at, Redwing?” Sandstorm demanded. “Be straight with us.”

“Give me a sec.” Redwing then turned to his counterpart. “And who did you say you left Silvercloud with?”

“M-Moonracer…” the younger Redwing said quietly.

“…No,” Straxus denied, realizing what Redwing was saying. “You can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting…”

Redwing smirked at the commander. “I'm smelling a rescue mission in the making.”

“Rescue?” the chopper questioned.

Hot Rod relaxed a bit and lowered his arms to his sides, ready to go. “Where are we going Redwing?”

“How do we even get where we need to go?” Hotlink interjected. “It's in a different dimension.”

“I will be right back,” Redwing informed without giving a single hint, rushing back into the spaceship before anyone could stop him.

“He can't be serious, can he?” Staxus panicked. “Like, he's not seriously planning on potentially…” He paused mid-sentence and glanced at his Redwing, who was looking back at him with concern in his optics. “...going to our Cybertron,” he finished. “We got here by accident.”

“I believe the human phrase is, 'Prepare to eat your own foot',” conehead Sandstorm said.

“Wait, what's happening?” the black and white seeker asked with panic rising in his tone. “Is everything alright?”

“Redwing thinks your girlfriend is in trouble,” Hotlink stated bluntly.

“And once he gets an idea in his head, he'll make it happen,” Hot Rod added.

“He's magic,” Alexis beamed.

“It's… not magic…” Hotlink muttered under his breath.

“What?!?” young Redwing gasped in horror. He flicked his gaze around to all the members of the group with hope that any one of them was messing with him.

“He's not magic, but he doesn't follow the laws of nature either,” Sandstorm elaborated. “I think he walks a strange grey line between the two, and I don't know how he does it.”

“Redwing, calm down,” Straxus soothed. “I'm sure everything will be okay. We'll all be going with you to make sure Silvercloud is going to be alright.”

Redwing popped back out of the ship, armed with an assortment of boxes strapped to his waist. “Alright, Redwing Jr. front and center! And bring the sword with you! We're going to need it.”

“No, this has to be a joke or something!” the young seeker protested.

“Are you willing to take that chance?” Sandstorm posed.

“Well, of course not! I would do anything for Silvercloud!”

“Then I'd follow Redwing's lead if I were you, kid,” Hot Rod urged.

Redwing’s alternate hesitated for a moment, but decided it was best to get up from his seat and approach his lookalike. He stared into his optics pleadingly. “Please… tell me this is a joke.”

“Jokes are funny,” the older mech informed. “But first—” He reaches into his cockpit and pulled out a vial of glowing blue light. Redwing then extended his other hand out to the alternate. “Sword, please.”

Conehead Sandstorm gawked at the sight of another vial of Matrix energy. “Another one?!?”

"’Another one’ what?” Hotlink’s counterpart asked, rising to her feet and joined by her helicopter teammate.

“How many vials of Matrix energy do you have?” Hot Rod asked suspiciously.

“Wait, that's Matrix energy?” Straxus gaped, his optics widening. “Like, ‘the Matrix of Leadership’ Matrix energy?”

“Sufficient for my needs,” Redwing answered Hot Rod with a smile. “Now…”

What happened next could only be described as magic. Redwing glanced between the blade and the vial that he had in his hands. He thought for a few seconds, then without warning, he angled the blade and smashed it into the vial of energy, causing a huge burst of bright light and wind to radiate from where Redwing was standing.

Straxus, his Hotlink, and Hot Rod were not ready for such a spectacle. Straxus was blown over in his seat and fell backwards with some brief blindness from the sudden light. Femme Hotlink and Hot Rod were able to close their optics in time, but weren’t expecting the strong gust of wind to toss them to the ground.

Sandstorm’s double was able to brace himself against both the light and the wind, bringing his arm up to protect his optics and adjusting his stance so he didn’t get blown over. Hotlink prepared for it before anything happened, turning his back to them, standing firm, and making sure his minicons were secure in his grasp so that he wouldn’t topple over on top of them.

Sandstorm and Alexis were able to brace themselves against the display as well, with Alexis securing herself in one of Sandstorm’s vents, and with Sandstorm turning slightly to protect his optics from the light.

The Redwing alternate was the only one that seemed unaffected by the light and winds. He watched in awe, then he saw a blade begin to swing in the light, absorbing the loose energy the best it could. As the blue light was being absorbed, a red glow began to emanate from the blade. After a few swings, Redwing and the newly revived Dark Saber could be seen clearly.

“And now the sword is alive again,” Redwing said with a smile. “Hungry, but alive.”

“Whoa…”

“You don't even know the half of it.” Redwing then reached down with one of his free hands to grab one of the boxes from his belt, detaching it and holding out for his counterpart to take. “I need you to hold on to this.”

“What is it?” the younger seeker asked, taking it into his hands.

“That is going to help us get to your Cybertron.”

At this point, everyone else was beginning to recover from the sudden display. Straxus slowly made his way up to a sitting position and was rubbing his optics to try and see, while alternate Sandstorm was busy helping the female motorbike up. Conehead Sandstorm and Hotlink began to lower their arms to get a better look at what the two Redwings were doing. And Alexis peaked out of Sandstorm’s shoulder vent.

“What was that?” Sandstorm asked.

“My guess is the Matrix energy meshing with the sword,” Hot Rod rasped, staggering a bit as he got to his feet and blinking to get rid of the bright spots in his optical vision.

“We're all going, right?” Alexis checked.

“Actually, that's probably not a good idea, considering you, Heatstroke, and Heartburn,” Hotlink pointed out.

“It would probably turn too dangerous for you,” Sandstorm agreed.

Everyone standing up got Redwing’s attention and he cast a look at them. “Why are you all getting up?” he asked.

Hot Rod frowned at the question. “Some of us are going with you to help out, aren't we?”

“What? No. None of you are stealthy,” Redwing scoffed. He pointed at each individual and began calling out features about them. “You're loud; You're a dad; You're also a dad; You're an idiot; You're a mom; And you keep looking at me funny. None of you are capable of an honest and truthful stealth mission.”

“Wait, we're going alo— WHOA!” The black and red seeker had begun to protest, but his optics widened as he felt a sudden rush of energy through his entire body. And as if on cue, a portal opened up right next to him.

“Aha! It worked!” Redwing cheered. And without warning, he pushed his alternate into the portal. “It's mission time.”

“Whoa, wait, stop!” Straxus protested. “Listen to us! I know you're capable of that!” He charged the two Redwings, hoping to stop them from entering the portal.

“Bye all!” Redwing waved as they stepped through. “If everything goes horribly, we will be back in a couple of days!”

And with that, the portal closed before anyone could stop them. Straxus tripped on a rock as he was rushing at the two. He landed square on his face, but swiftly recovered and was back on his feet and feeling for the portal.

“Wha… Huh? Where did he go??” Straxus turned to Hot Rod and the other seekers. “We have to follow him! Do you have any more of those boxes?”

“I didn't even know we had them in the first place,” Hotlink stated.

Hot Rod let out a sigh and plopped back into his spot near the fire and folded his arms. He stared at the fire with a slight pout. “Forget it,” he huffed. “There's no way we can follow them.”

“We can't just leave them to do a mission like this alone!” the femme protested.

“We don't exactly have any choice in the matter.”

“It at least gives us a couple days of peace,” Sandstorm pointed out. “I'll take that.”

“No, I can't just let some random take one of my men on a mission,” Straxus declared stubbornly. “If you don't help me go after them, I will have Sandstorm pull your ship apart until we find a way to follow them.”

“…You wouldn’t,” the conehead gaped with astonishment.

“You set one foot on that ship and do anything, you’ll answer to Redwing when they get back, and me beforehand,” Hot Rod threatened, staring down Straxus with his serious glare.

“You and what army, squirt?” Sandstorm’s alternate sneered. “These two pansies?”

“Is that a threat?” Hotlink retorted, narrowing his gaze.

“It wouldn't be if you all would cooperate,” Straxus growled, throwing his hands up in the air.

“I know I'm only two, but why are you all acting like children?” Sandstorm asked.

“You’re the ones keeping us from getting our teammate back!” the alternate Hotlink shouted.

“We’re missing a teammate, too!” Alexis reminded. “We keep telling you there’s nothing we can do!”

“We don’t know what tricks Redwing has onboard this ship,” Hotlink explained. “He’s told us not to pry, and we respect that.”

The chopper let out a snarl. “You’re all just wrapped under that lunatic’s thumb! Lazy good-for-nothing—”

“You mistake laziness for begrudging acceptance,” Hot Rod interrupted, rising to his feet. “This isn’t the first time Redwing has pulled something like this and left us out of the loop. We’ve learned to just gripe, but let him do his thing. He seems to know better, stupid as that sounds.”

“Well then. What do you suggest we do?” Staxus asked, bewildered at the situation.

“What else is there to do but wait? We don’t have the equipment to follow. Our Redwing won’t let anything happen to yours, I guarantee. If anything, our Redwing is more likely to come out of this beat up than yours is.”

“That doesn’t bring much comfort…” alternate Hotlink grimaced.

“It’s all the comfort I can give,” the Autobot stated bluntly. “I’m sorry. If you need supplies, I can point you to the nearest town. Feel free to leave your ship parked by ours so that when they get back, you don’t miss it. This is all I can really offer.”

Straxus growled for a moment, taking in all this information and trying to figure out what to do next. His shoulders eventually dropped as he surrendered to a conclusion. “Fine… It's getting late anyways… We should probably get a recharge in.”

The commander turned and began to walk to his ship, motioning for his two remaining teammates to follow him back. His Sandstorm huffed and folded his arms, clearly not content with the outcome of this discussion. He was further motivated when Hotlink’s counterpart nudged him to go back to the ship, leaving the Prime team at the campfire, watching them walk away.

“Oh yeah,” Sandstorm realized, glancing over to Alexis. “It is past your bedtime too, isn't it?”

“But I’m not tired…” the human tried.

“Well, I am tired. And I want to take advantage of Redwing being gone.” Sandstorm rose to his feet. “We at least get a break.”

“You should still try to rest, Alexis,” Hotlink encouraged. “Getting proper rest at your age is important.”

“Fine...” Alexis attempted to stifle a yawn behind her hand, but was unsuccessful.

“I’ll clean up,” Hot Rod offered, secretly continuing to watch the other team enter their frigate. “You guys go on.”

Sandstorm and Hotlink both rose to their feet, gathered their children, and made their way onto the ship, leaving Hot Rod to clean up the campfire adventure.

[Perspective Change]

Alternate Sandstorm couldn’t wait to get his two cents in before the doors to the ship were closed behind him. “We aren’t just leaving it at that, are we?” he growled. “They’ve got to be hiding something!”

Straxus closed the ship doors before speaking. “I know they are. But Redwing… THEIR Redwing, has, er, had Matrix energy.”

“Yeah. So what other ‘tricks’ does their Redwing have? I say we should tell them to stuff it and figure out what he’s got.”

“But what if they’re right and there’s nothing we or they can do?” alternate Hotlink posed. “What if there are no tricks?”

“I highly doubt that any of the others know the same ‘tricks’ that their Redwing knows. But we must be certain. Tomorrow, we begin to look a little bit deeper.” Straxus turned to look at each of his lieutenants. “Hotlink, you're the best at getting intel. While they don't have an Optimus, they must have a successor. Find out who he is.”

“Understood,” the femme nodded.

“While you're at it, see if you can find out where Redwing keeps his ‘special equipment’. When you find out, let us know. Sandstorm and I will come in and take care of it from there.”

“I’ll get every bit I can.”

“This is more like it,” the chopper grinned.

“We have to be smart about this,” Straxus continued. “We can't just use blunt force on these guys. Despite us trying to give a good impression, we slightly messed it up. We have to be careful from here on out.”

Sandstorm grunted, while Hotlink gave a nod of understanding.

“Go get some rest,” Straxus ordered. “We may have a busy day tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

The day started pretty calm for those that were on Hot Rod’s ship. Everyone woke up well-rested, and were beginning to get themselves fuel for the morning.

Hotlink and Hot Rod were already in the kitchen. Hotlink, of course, had the twins in his arms and was in the middle of trying to feed them. Hot Rod had already gotten fuel and was going over some information for the day. Sandstorm and Alexis were in the kitchen as well and had sat down to start eating when Sandstorm heard a slight tapping on metal sound from somewhere down the hall.

“Does… anyone else hear that?” Sandstorm asked, getting up from his seat and glancing down the hall to see where the noise was coming from.

“Hm?” Hotlink glanced up from the twins in his arms.

Alexis turned her head so she could hear the sound. “It sounds like somebody’s at the door.”

“Must be our friendly new neighbors,” Hot Rod grumbled.

“Oh goody…” Sandstorm sighed, remembering the events of last night.

“Guess we should go see what they want, huh?” Hot Rod asked, getting to his feet and giving Sandstorm’s arm a nudge as he walked past. “Alexis, you can stay here and keep eating.”

“Okay,” the little girl nodded. “Don’t let them bully you.”

“Right…” Sandstorm hesitated before leaving with the Autobot to check the door. Once the two were at the main entrance, Sandstorm opened it, revealing the knocker to be Shattered Glass Hotlink.

“Good morning!” the female transformer beamed.

Hot Rod took a moment to lean out the door and look around for any other unexpected guests before straightening up and giving her a questioning look. “It’s just you?”

“Yes, I thought it best to leave the brutes at home,” the alternate assured. “They can be so unreasonable at times and quick to jump into a fight.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Sandstorm stated. “Is it the war back at your Cybertron that makes them so mean?”

“It is. The war is taxing on all our minds, right now. It’s hard for us to think of anything but, sometimes. Hence why moving past your faction is hard for them.” She gestured to the Autobot.

“They wouldn’t be the first,” Hot Rod said curtly.

“I’m sure. Mind if I come in and chat?” alternate Hotlink inquired politely.

“Ummm…” Sandstorm began, glancing over to Hot Rod, then back at SG Hotlink. “Why?”

The female Hotlink hesitated and glanced around for a second. “Comfort? Legs get tired, sweetie. I can talk all day, but my legs can't keep me up the whole time I do. A small defect, one could say.”

Hot Rod thought about it for a moment before taking a small step away from the doorway. “I suppose you can. You stay in sight, though.”

“You're most gracious. I assure you, talking is all I will be doing while in your home. I wouldn't dare violate your hospitality,” she reassured, stepping into the ship and brushing her fingers against Sandstorm's hand softly as she passed, though moving to make it seem like it wasn't on purpose.

This caused Sandstorm to pause as a flustered feeling began to fill his mind. It took him a few moments to shake himself from the feeling and follow her and Hot Rod down the hall.

 The femme glanced over to Sandstorm once he caught up. “Your darling daughter isn't with you?” she asked.

“She's eating breakfast,” Sandstorm answered.

Hot Rod led the group to a side room and motioned for their guest to enter.

“Aha.” Other Hotlink entered the room as urged and quickly turned her attention back to Sandstorm. “So how long have you had her?”

Hot Rod and Sandstorm exchanged glances with each other. The Autobot then threw a suspicious glance to their guest before turning to close the door.

“Ummm… About a few weeks, I think,” Sandstorm answered innocently. “We, er— I got her right after we joined Hot Rod.”

“So if I may ask, why did you join Hot Rod?” the alternate Hotlink asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“Ohhhh… How did Redwing say it…?” Sandstorm bemoaned, trying to think back to how Redwing convinced Hotlink to stay with the Autobot.

“It appears Redwing makes most of the decisions around here. And yet your daughter claims Hot Rod is your leader?” the femme pointed out. “An unknown Autobot that you don't know why you joined?”

“It's a complex leadership scheme,” Hot Rod answered, sitting down in another chair with his arms folded.

“I don't think complex begins to cover it…” Sandstorm grumbled. “Redwing's supposed to be trine leader as well, but he just passes the responsibilities to me and Hotlink.”

The alternate raised an optic ridge. “So… there is no official leader amongst you?”

“If you want official, I'm as close as you're going to get,” Hot Rod interjected.

The alternate squinted at the Autobot. “…But why?”

“They just like me,” the Autobot said with a smirk and a shrug.

The female Hotlink blinked at his response and shot Sandstorm a questioning look.

“We do,” Sandstorm confirmed. “He's taught me and Alexis, and has helped us out on more than one occasion.”

“Hm.” The guest hummed with a thoughtful look. “Intriguing… Hot Rod, yesterday you said that you were close to Optimus, yes?”

“Yeah. I did say something like that,” he confirmed carefully.

“So then, would you be able to tell us who has inherited his Matrix of Leadership?”

“Yeah. Guy named Rodimus Prime.”

“Would you be able to point us in his direction?” she asked.

“Not really. He's gone off the radar. No Autobot knows where he is.”

The femme gained a disappointed look. “Oh. I see. That is a shame.”

“Why?” the Autobot inquired. “Because your leader Straxus wants to meet him?”

“I'm sure he would like to,” alternate Hotlink answered vaguely.

“Straxus isn't missing anything,” the Autobot grunted. “Rodimus Prime doesn't hold a candle to Optimus.”

“Stop saying things like that!” Sandstorm blurted out with frustration.

The room fell silent for a moment. Hot Rod looked over at Sandstorm and just shrugged off the comment, while the alternate Hotlink kept shifting her confused gaze between the two before her.

“Erm… Am I missing something?” she asked, breaking the tense silence that had formed.

Sandstorm let out a heavy sigh. “It's difficult to explain…”

“I guess you could say the Autobot leader and I aren't on good terms,” Hot Rod declared tersely.

“I… see… I'm sorry,” the femme apologized. “Let's… jump to another topic then, shall we?”

“Sure,” Sandstorm hastily agreed.

“So, where are you all heading, ultimately?”

The conehead made a move to answer, but he quickly realized he doesn't have one. “I… I don't know,” he admitted. “I've just been following Redwing and Hotlink around. Then we met you.” He nudged the Autobot.

“I… guess we don't really have a destination in mind. We're just traveling the universe, trying to avoid any Decepticons that may be hunting them,” Hot Rod replied.

“Being an Autobot, are they not hunting you, too?” alternate Hotlink asked.

Hot Rod thought about it for a moment. “…Yeah, I guess they are kind of hunting me, too.”

“You could have stayed with the safety of your faction. Why chance leaving with these seekers?”

“My faction agreed and even encouraged that I get off planet. Now, okay, maybe I should have told them that I was going to choose my companions rather than let them choose for me, but I think this was for the better.” A soft breathy laugh left the Autobot’s lips. “I feel safer with these guys, funnily enough.”

“What can either of you tell me about this trine’s dynamic?” the femme pressed.

“Nothing is considered normal,” Sandstorm answered, shaking his head. “Never thought I would have daily headaches from everything we get put through.”

Hot Rod let out a genuine chuckle and grinned. “There's never a dull moment! Not with Redwing around.”

“And when Redwing isn't around?” alternate Hotlink probed.

“Well, things are calmer, but he's rarely gone,” he said.

“He appears to be a key influence for the group in this world,” she observed.

“Tell me about it,” Sandstorm grumbled. “And it's non-stop, too. He's always starting something!”

The other Hotlink's attention was back on him. “Such like?”

“He's brought us all over space for who-knows-what, constantly harasses us for kisses and hugs, often claims to be Starscream, has tried to teach Alexis things that she's not ready to know yet, and just claims— wacky— nonsense— things!” Sandstorm let out a huff at his own list. “And just last week he made a mess of the ship, made Hotlink make new sparks, and now he has ghost goo.” The conehead let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead with one of his hands. “Who knows what he's going to do with that…”

“…Oh gracious…” the alternate murmured, unsure of what to do with that information.

Hot Rod shrugged. “Just gotta learn how to roll with his wackiness.”

“Aha.” Alternate Hotlink nodded in understanding. “And… what can you tell me about your Hotlink?”

“He’s kind of…” Hot Rod paused, trying to find the right word. “…reserved.”

“He's really smart,” Sandstorm added. “He's the one that keeps us in working order. He also has an assortment of gadgets in his workshop. All of which he has invented.”

The alternate perked up. “Oh, he’s an inventor?” she asked with interest.

“Inventor, make-do medic, engineer, general problem-solver,” Hot Rod listed off. “Talented and skilled.”

“Fascinating!” the femme declared. “I would love to see his work at some point, if he wouldn’t mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks.”

The alternate Hotlink then turned her head and locked optics with Sandstorm. “So now, what about you, hon?”

Sandstorm blinked. “What do you mean about me?”

“Tell me about yourself.” She smiled sweetly. “You’re a single father and a newborn. What else?”

“Uhhh… I… don't know.”

“You don't know about yourself?”

“Is it that surprising?” the Autobot commented curtly.

“Is it not?” the alternate countered simply.

“I'm two,” Sandstorm reminded.

“He hasn't exactly had the time to think about himself lately,” Hot Rod added.

“Ah. I suppose your friends keep you too busy to do so, hm?” the femme posed.

“Just Redwing,” Sandstorm lamented.

She let out a small chuckle. “So you definitely plan on capitalizing on this opportunity that's been presented to you.”

“Yes,” Sandstorm answered confidently. “Yes I am.”

“You wouldn't mind some company while doing so…” She gave the conehead a warm smile. “…would you?”

“Company?” Hot Rod echoed, frowning at the idea.

“Certainly. I'm sure spending time cooped up with just your team can be stifling after a while. I know I get tired of mine after some time and need a break now and again. I like to spend time with other people than them, you know?” She glanced between the two mechs. “Don't you feel the same?”

“Ummm… I was planing on spending it with Alexis,” Sandstorm answered slowly, not really catching her meaning. “To make sure she's doing well and all. I don't know a lot of other people besides these guys, though.” He paused. “Well, that's not true. There's the people at the mental asylum, but they tried to kill us…”

“That's so sweet,” the alternate Hotlink complimented, ignoring the mental asylum bit. “What a devoted father you are.”

Hot Rod leaned over and murmured so that only Sandstorm could hear. “I think she's trying to hint that she wants to spend some time around you…”

“Oh…” Sandstorm realized. “Well, I mean, I don't see why not…”

“Excellent!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together with glee. “It's a date! I look forward to it.”

“Oh boy…” Hot Rod groaned.

“Wait… Date?” Sandstorm blinked.

The femme Hotlink giggled at the conehead’s confusion. “I'm just playing with you, sweetie.” She paused as she saw Sandstorm’s expression. “Oh, unless… You don't know what a date is?”

Sandstorm stood with a blank expression for a few seconds before he leaned over to Hot Rod. “What's a date?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“It's a romance thing,” the Autobot whispered back. “Something people do when they're either interested in each other or trying to figure out if they're interested.”

“Oh…” Sandstorm relaxed a little, but still looked concerned. “Is… Is it normal for us to do that?”

Hot Rod thought for a moment, bobbing his head back and forth a little bit while he had an inner debate. “Um… It’s not… common for us transformers. But there's no rule saying you can't. Humans do it all the time, if that helps.”

“Oh.” Sandstorm shrugged and turned his focus back to Shattered Glass Hotlink. “Well… Sure. Why not?”

“Then I look forward to our date,” the alternate smiled sweetly.

“If that's all,” Hot Rod cut in, “we've got to check up on the others and finish fueling.”

“Oh. I'm keeping you, aren't I? I'm sorry,” the femme apologized as she rose to her feet. “That satisfies my curiosity for now. I appreciate the exchange of information. I feel like I understand you all a little more now.”

“No no, it's fine,” Sandstorm assured. “We just didn't expect you, that's all.”

“You're such a sweet-ember~” alternate Hotlink complimented. “Hope you have a good morning.”

“I'll help you find the door,” Hot Rod stated, and proceeded to lead the motorbike out of the room.

Sandstorm stood silent and watched as the two walked away, leaving him alone to think about what just happened. “A date, huh?” he muttered to himself.

“Daddy!” the voice of Alexis called, pulling the conehead out of his train of thought. He turned to see her jogging into the room and toward him with a look of curiosity on her face. “I got a question!” she declared when she got close enough.

Sandstorm knelt down. “Yes?”

“I was wondering. When's your birthday?”

He blinked at the question. “My what?”

“Your birthday. The day you were born,” Alexis elaborated. “When do you turn three?”

“Uhhhhhhhh…” Sandstorm fell silent for a moment, failing to gain any answer from his memory banks.

“You don't know when you were born?” the child asked.

“No… Not really…” he answered sheepishly. “Redwing kept track of that sort of thing… One time he gave Hotlink a… Uh…” He paused to think about the event for a second. “What did Redwing give him?”

“Did he give him a present??” Alexis asked enthusiastically.

“No? But… maybe?” Sandstorm guessed. “I don't know. Redwing said it was edible.”

“Cake!” Alexis exclaimed with a bright look.

“Oh, is that what that was?" the conehead uttered. "Huh."

“So Redwing knows birthdays,” Alexis continued, but then fell silent for a minute as she thought. Once she had her next question, she looked back up at Sandstorm. “When's Hot Rod's birthday? Does Redwing know that too?”

“Probably not,” Sandstorm admitted. “Hot Rod hasn’t told anyone his birthday, I think.”

The little girl folded her arms and looked at the ground with a perplexed expression on her face, and hummed at the problem, trying to think of a solution. She then suddenly perked up and peered back up at Sandstorm. “We should celebrate it today,” she said decidedly.

“Oh… Uh, I guess,” Sandstorm submitted, albeit, with some surprise. “Sure. We can tell Hot Rod—”

“Nooooo!” Alexis interrupted with insistent denial. “It has to be a surprise!”

“D-Does it?” he asked with utter confusion.

“Yes! He'll be much happier if we don't tell him! Trust me,” Alexis insisted. “I'm an expert.”

“Yeah, that is true,” Sandstorm nodded. “Okay, so, how do we celebrate this… birthday?”

“Do you or Hotlink know how to make a cake that robots can eat??”

“Uh, Hotlink might. We could ask him,” the conehead suggested.

“Okay. So he can be in charge of the cake. And we can get Hot Rod a present.”

“There's presents, too??” Sandstorm gawked.

“Yes! Of course!” Alexis proclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “A present is important on a birthday!”

“O-Oh… I should have known…”

“It's okay, Daddy. You get a pass,” the child assured patiently. “When it's your birthday, we'll get you cake and presents, too. We should go—” She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and paused just in time to see Hot Rod re-enter the room.

“She talks all sweet, Sandstorm,” the Autobot sighed, “but I'd still keep your guard up around her. Alright? There's something about her."

“Who?” Alexis asked.

“The other Hotlink.”

“I guess,” Sandstorm shrugged. “I mean, she seemed all right to me.”

Hot Rod folded his arms and gave the conehead a serious look. “When you've seen more of her type, you'll figure it out. Just don't let her make any advances on you. If she gets up in your personal space, tries to touch you anywhere, push her away.”

“Why would she touch me?” Sandstorm asked.

The look on Hot Rod’s face switched from serious to one of pity. “Ohhh, you're so innocent…” he sighed again.

“Why would she touch him?” Alexis repeated. “Like, to hold hands or hug him?”

“Both of you…” the Autobot added, taking a seat in a chair not far from the two. “So… When someone like her wants to get something…” He paused, trying to figure out a good way of explaining this to a ten and two year old. “…they'll look for any way they can make you feel vulnerable or agreeable so they can get what they want. Information. An item. Other stuff. Touch is one of the tools they use because it brings up… we'll say ‘strong feelings’.”

Sandstorm tilted his head sideways as he listened. He was understanding the point a little, but there were parts that he still didn’t understand. “Okay. I'll keep that in mind,” he assured the best he could.

“Hot Rod!” Alexis shouted to get the Autobot’s attention. The bot turned and graced her with a startled smile. “What are you going to do today??” she asked, changing the subject.

“Hm. That's a good question,” Hot Rod mused. “Maybe I'll just take it easy around the ship. Or go for a drive.”

“You should go for a drive and look for a new place for us to explore!” the ten year old declared.

Hot Rod smirked as he raised an optic ridge. “That so?”

“Yeah!” Alexis beamed. “So we can all go on an expedition while we wait for Redwing and Redwing!”

Hot Rod hummed as he thought about the suggestion for a bit. “Guess that would give us something to do.” He then rose to his feet. “Alright, I'll go scouting around. But you guys call if our neighbors give you trouble. I'll come racing right back,” he instructed.

Alexis nodded. “Okay!”

With that, the Autobot turned and left the room to go searching for places to explore.

Alexis stood silent and watched as he left, and slightly leaned to continue watching him as he went, waiting until she was sure he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear her speak. “That should give us lots of time,” she whispered.

“So… What are we going to get him for a present?” Sandstorm asked. “I don't even know what he likes.”

“I think we should go into town and just have a look around. If something looks like Hot Rod will like it, I'll point it out. But we need to tell Hotlink to work on the cake before we go,” she reminded.

The conehead nodded. “Right.” He knelt down and extended his hand, which allowed the girl to climb onto it and get herself secure so that they could move around the ship. As the two went, Alexis directed Sandstorm to where Hotlink was, who was busy feeding the two minicons.

“Hotlink!” Alexis called loudly.

Hotlink turned his head to look at the two approaching him. “So what did he say?”

“You're right, he doesn't know when, either.”

“Dates just aren't really that important to us when we live for so long,” the purple seeker informed.

“I don't get it,” Alexis huffed. “Birthdays are fun and make people happy. Why wouldn't you keep track of them?”

“Mostly because a birthday is a human tradition, not a cybertronian one.”

“Hmph. Well, we're celebrating Hot Rod's birthday today,” Alexis declared. “Do you know how to make a cake? For you guys?”

Hotlink blinked. “Uh… Sure. I think Redwing's left some recipes lying around. Can't be too hard.”

“Great! We're going to go get him a present. Don't tell him about this!” she emphasized. “It's a surprise!”

“Alright, it's a secret,” Hotlink nodded. “I got it.”

Alexis nodded with satisfaction, knowing that everything was in place for the cake.

Sandstorm glanced down at the girl in his hand when she was done talking with Hotlink. “So, presents now?” he asked. “Do we need multiple or just one?”

“I think it depends on what we find,” the child answered. “I like multiple, but just one is fine, too.”

Sandstorm nodded and with Alexis in hand, he made his way off the ship and into town to find a present for their Autobot friend.

[Meanwhile]

Straxus sat in the control seat of the medical frigate, waiting for the return of his infiltrator. He sat there for some time. There was… something. He couldn’t quite describe it. Something nagging at the back of his processor. Telling him that something was off, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. And every time he thought about it—

The hiss of the door opening snapped the commander out of his line of thought. He spun slowly in his chair to see that his Hotlink had returned. Time to go back to the task at hand.

“This shell may be a little difficult to crack, but it should be doable,” the femme reported. “I've at least got a bit of information about the team as a whole. Hot Rod seems very reserved about what information we get, though.”

“Figures. I assume you at least have an… ‘in’ with one of them?”

“Sandstorm seems to be my best bet. He's young and naive.”

“Anything new on the prodigy of Optimus?” Straxus asked.

“He goes by the name of Rodimus Prime. He and Hot Rod don't appear to get along.” The informant’s face furled up to display one of mild frustration. “And he's gone off the radar. Hot Rod says none of the Autobots know where he's gone.”

“Just our luck…” The commander let out a sigh and thought for a moment.

“It's just been one thing after the other since we got here,” Hotlink complained. “How are we supposed to work with this?”

“At this rate, slowly,” Straxus answered. “Sandstorm is feeling it worse than you are… probably.”

The femme scoffed. “If we did anything his way, we'd be worse off than when we started. We're barely on friendly speaking terms with these mechs as is without him being a brute looking to get what we need by beating it out of them.”

“I am aware of our Sandstorm's… weaknesses," he granted patiently. "That's why you're better suited for the job, given your training.”

“I can work away at the other Sandstorm, but I could use some help pulling down the walls Hot Rod and the other Hotlink have set up. It's clear they won't drop their guards for me.”

“I hear you,” Straxus assured. “If we had Redwing here, you would be able to build a better rapport with them. I don't think they would take to my presence well. You'll just have to work with what you have.”

Shattered Glass Hotlink sighed. “Lovely… Just don't expect the world. I can't guarantee other Sandstorm knows what we need.”

“We don't need the world. Just the Matrix and the technology to get Redwing back. Everything else will fall into place,” the commander reminded.

“I don't see the difference.”

“Cybertron below me…” Straxus cursed under his breath. “Just do what you can.”

“Mhm,” alternate Hotlink hummed, waving her hand dismissively and wandering out of the control room.

Straxus watched her go, leaning back in his chair and thinking for a moment. He knew it was a steep task that he had placed upon Hotlink. His Hotlink. But she was the best one suited for the job. Straxus turned back to look out the window and think. A part of him hoped that he would remember the answers he knew were in his mind, while another hoped that all of this would end soon.

[Later]

Sandstorm and Alexis wandered around town for a bit before they were able to find the shopping district. Once there, the conehead put the child down so she could examine the market up close. There were many different kinds of vendors around. Food vendors, farmer’s goods, perfume and beauty tents, silks and fabrics, and many other vendors were scattered around methodically.

“Something Hot Rod would like…” the little girl thought out loud. This was a bit of a challenge, after all. “…I think what makes this hard is that even as Rodimus, he never actually talks about himself.”

“No kidding.” Sandstorm let out a soft sigh as he glanced between the different shops, trying to help find something that Hot Rod would like. “He seems to like fishing. Maybe we could get him something that involves fishing?”

“Maybe. I'm not seeing much fishing stuff, though.” Alexis paused as she examined one of the stalls that had fish dangling from it. “There's fish, but that's human food, and they're dead and smelly.”

Sandstorm knelt down to examine the fish. “Yeah… I don't think he would be into that for a present.”

Alexis let out a sigh and folded her arms, glancing at the stalls around her and contemplating something—anything—to get for the Autobot leader.

The sound of a kid and their mom talking in the background eventually caught Alexis’ attention. She turned to see the kid dragging their mom over to a stall with mostly children's toys and stuffed animals of various shapes and sizes. She tilted her head to the side as she watched this interaction when suddenly, something that Redwing said to her came to mind, making her gasp with realization. “Oh!” she exclaimed and darted over to the stall.

“Did you find something?” Sandstorm asked, following her over to the toy stall.

“Redwing said that Hot Rod doesn't get enough love. I don't think I've ever seen him get hugs or anything. I know I would be sad if I didn't get any. So I think he needs something that lots of kids like to have so they can feel loved.” She glanced at the different toys and eventually pointed to a particularly large stuffed bear. “That one,” she declared with a confident grin.

“That's… actually not a bad idea.” Sandstorm praised, impressed with her line of thinking.

“That one, please!” she pointed out to the vendor. “Can we have it wrapped?” 

The vendor nodded warmly, taking the bear off its stand and bringing it to a nearby table to begin wrapping it up in some colorful paper.

As the bear was being wrapped, Alexis turned back to her guardian. “While we're in town, we should pick up a human cake so I can have some, too,” she suggested.

Sandstorm voiced his agreement. It would have been a shame if the one who was planning the whole thing was left out. When the bear was fully wrapped, the vendor brought the gift over to the cash register and listed off the total for the bear. Fortunately, Sandstorm still had Redwing’s card, and he was able to make the transaction.

“Alright. Here you go.”

“Thanks so much!” Alexis grinned and squirmed a little with excitement, taking the wrapped bear in her arms, albeit with a slight bit of difficulty. It was fairly large, after all, and she wasn’t all that tall. “I can't wait to see Hot Rod's face when we surprise him with all this~”

“Yeah!” Sandstorm chirped, finding himself looking forward to the future celebration. “This is going to be exciting.”

“Alrighty!” Alexis exclaimed as she walked away with the conehead. “Cake for me, and then we can go back and help Hotlink if he needs it!”

“Alright. But not too much,” Sandstorm warned. “We don't want you having a tummy ache.”

“Aw…” the little girl bemoaned. “Okay, just two slices. One for today and one for tomorrow.”

Sandstorm let out a chuckle at the statement, and the two ran their final errand before they made their way out of town and back to the ship.

[Later that day]

The sun was beginning to set when Hot Rod returned to the ship. He had already jotted down the coordinates of some interesting spots and figured that was good enough for the day. As he was approaching the ship, he saw a few lights on inside. Which was good, but then his optics shifted to the medical frigate next to them.

The Autobot had to let out a couple breaths to ease himself of the anxiety. He knew something was off about their new neighbors, he just didn’t know what. But that was a topic for another time. Now, he wanted to go onto his ship and check in with everyone.

The first place Hot Rod made for was Hotlink’s workstation. Usually, Hotlink was there with some broken component or taking care of the newborns. But this time it was empty. Which wasn’t unusual from time to time, but it got the Autobot’s nerves on edge.

‘Perhaps Hotlink is putting the newborns to bed?’ Hot Rod thought to himself. It wasn’t much of a comforting thought, but it was the best he could think of. He picked up the pace and began to check all the recharge slabs on the ship, only to find them all empty. Even the rooms they were in had no one inside them.
Hot Rod swallowed. There were only two other places where everyone could be. One was on the bridge and the other was with the alternates. He inhaled sharply as he made his way to the bridge, hoping that everyone was there. Once he got to the door, he opened it slightly, only to find it surprisingly dark. He opened the door even further, readying his arm blasters and flicked on the light.

“Surprise!!” Alexis shouted joyously from on top of one of the consoles. Not far from there were Hotlink, with the two newborns in his arms, and Sandstorm who stood near a wrapped gift and some cake.

Hot Rod smiled with total relief and relaxed, discharging his blasters and feeling better now that he knew that everyone was alright. He glanced around at the scene and chuckled a little. “Wow! Consider me surprised! What's the occasion?”

“We're throwing you a surprise party, for your birthday.” Sandstorm answered. He paused for a second and glanced down at Alexis. “Is it his birthday?”

“I don't know when it is,” Alexis answered, then looked over to the Autobot. “When is it?”

“My birthday? Uh…” Hot Rod leaned against the wall and folded his arms, falling silent as he thought. “It was a couple months ago, I guess.”

“And you didn't say anything?!” the child gasped.

“Hadn't really occurred to me,” the Autobot shrugged. “I mean, we only got you several weeks ago, and I’ve kind of been focused on other things. Besides, why bring up something like a birthday that’s already passed?” He smiled at everyone as he approached them. “But I appreciate all the effort you guys made. That cake looks delicious!”

“I made that,” Hotlink informed, returning the smile. “You're welcome.”

“And Daddy and I got you a present!” Alexis added, pointing enthusiastically to the wrapped gift.

Hot Rod turned his attention to the little girl and gave her the biggest smile. “A present, too??”

“Yes!” Sandstorm declared, reaching to grab the gift and handing it to Hot Rod. “Alexis saw this and thought of you.”

Hot Rod took the gift in his hands with a curious expression and began to unwrap it, letting the paper drop to the floor, and leaving only the stuffed bear. “…No way.” The Autobot dawned an adoring smile as he held the bear.

“Do you like it?” Alexis asked, looking just a bit worried.

Hot Rod pulled the bear in a little closer to brace it with one hand while he used the other to reach up and stroke the fur on the stuffed animal’s head. “Do I?” He flashed her a broad smile. “Yeah! I love it! It feels so nice!” He examined it one more time before he pulled it into a big hug. “Now I see why human kids get so attached to these things.” Hot Rod let out a soft sigh and glanced around at everyone in the room. “Thanks, everyone. Truly. Guess we're going to have to start keeping track of birthdays, huh?”

“I still can't believe you all don't celebrate them as much,” Alexis mentioned with a slight grumble.

“Well, we would have to get that information from Redwing if we want to keep track of that,” Sandstorm reminded.

“That's true,” Hotlink confirmed.

“What are you going to name it?” Alexis asked.

Hot Rod blinked. “Name?”

“Your bear!”

“Oh,” Hot Rod realized. He looked down at the stuffed animal and began to think. He hummed as he tilted his head back and forth, but ultimately he didn’t come up with any immediate ideas. “Hm… Any suggestions?” he asked to everyone else.

Hotlink tilted his head slightly and began to ponder some ideas of his own. “Maybe… Groundpaw?” he suggested.

“Bit long and forward,” the Autobot commented.

“Uhh… Softy?” Sandstorm shrugged, not sure of what else to come up with.

Hot Rod tilted his head and looked back down at the bear, with something about Sandstorm’s suggestion getting his processor going. “Can't deny, she is pretty soft,” he admitted. He gained a soft smile as a name entered into his mind. “Alright, I'll take that theme, but her name is Satin.”

“That's a pretty name!” Alexis agreed. “What's satin?”

“A really soft cloth,” the Autobot answered, changing his grip on the bear so he could hold it between his arm and chest. Once the bear was in a good position, Hot Rod eyed the cybertronain cake on the table. “Alright, Hotlink, cut the cake! My mouth's lubing up just looking at it!”

Hotlink laughed gently as he set the twins down and grabbed the knife. He cut into the cake with expert precision and began to pass out slices between the two other cybertronians and himself. Once the cake was distributed, he took a seat with his children and tried to share his slice with the minicons.

Sandstorm took his slice from Hotlink, but immediately set it down. “Before I have mine, here Alexis.” He then pulled out a smaller cake that was already pre-cut and already served on a plate and handed it to his daughter.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Alexis grinned up at him, taking it happily and promptly digging into it, humming contentedly as she ate.

Hot Rod took a bite of the cake and hummed. He swallowed the bite he took before he raised his fork with another bite on it. “My compliments to the cook. This is outstanding.”

“You're welcome,” Hotlink nodded. “Turned out almost as good as how Redwing makes it. Almost. He does something different with it, I think, but I can't recall what.”

Alexis perked up as she gained a thought. She glanced up at Sandstorm and asked, “Do you suppose the new Decepticons would be nicer if we shared the cake with them.”

Hot Rod closed his optics and let out a soft groan at the question. “Please don't make me be the better person…”

“Do we need to share cake with them?” Sandstorm asked in return. “Wouldn't that be… I don't know… weird?”

“Yes,” Hot Rod answered without hesitation.

“Nuh uh!” Alexis protested. “My mom and dad would share food with our neighbors sometimes because they wanted to be nice.”

“They could take advantage of us, put our kids in danger, and make things so much worse before the Redwings get back,” Hotlink pointed out.

The child frowned. “They wouldn't do that!”

“You don't know,” the engineer countered. “I'm preparing us for a worst case scenario.”

“Can they really be that bad? They're like us, just different, right?” Sandstorm asked, glancing at the others. “I do have a date with Hotlink… sometime…”

Hotlink paused at that last statement and squinted at the conehead with disdain.

“Er, not you Hotlink,” Sandstorm amended, trying to correct any confusion. “The… uh, other Hotlink…”

“I know who you meant, and that’s not any better.”

“Oh…”

“You can't seriously find her attractive, can you?” the engineer prodded. “Do you know how many bots she's courted with before you?”

“Well… no,” Sandstorm admitted. “Should I know?”

“I'm willing to bet she's courted more than half the population of Cybertron,” Hotlink stated.

“But what if she hasn't?” Alexis pointed out with a frown. “I bet you're making that up.”

“I bet she has, though,” Hot Rod muttered.

Sandstorm let out a huff. “C'mon, guys! This is my first date! I thought you would be happy for me.”

“If it were anyone else I would be,” Hotlink informed.

“I'm telling you, Sandstorm,” Hot Rod added. “She's up to no-good.”

Alexis shot Hot Rod and Hotlink annoyed looks before patting what she could reach of Sandstorm. “Ignore them, Daddy,” the child encouraged. “I'm happy for you.”

Sandstorm knelt down to be closer to his daughter. “Thanks, Alexis.” He took a bite of his slice and looked back at the others before he spoke. “I still feel like we should be nice to them.”

Hot Rod grumbled to himself as he took a bite. He was silent for a bit before he spoke up. “Fine, I'll make an effort. But I'm not becoming Straxus' best friend.”

“As long as they don't try to threaten our kids again, there won't be any issue from me,” Hotlink added. His attention was then immediately drawn to his children, Heatstroke in particular, who had just shoved his face straight into Hotlink’s slice of cake. The seeker pulled Heatstroke away from the new mess and tried to clean the minicon up. “Do you have to go face first into your fuel every time?” he asked exasperatedly, only to get gurgles from the newborn.

“Well, I wouldn't say they've threatened our kids,” Sandstorm pointed out. “Just the ship.”

“They live here,” Hotlink corrected, refocusing back on the conversation. “If they have little regard for the sanctity of the kids' home, they have little regard for them.”

“Well, that's a little harsh,” Sandstorm commented, furrowing his optic ridges.

“Maybe,” Hotlink grunted with a shrug, “but I'm not willing to chance being unprepared for the worst.”

Sandstorm sighed and shook his head. “I don't know what to tell you.” He took another bite from his slice. “I, at least, plan on showing them some hospi— hos— hospi… Slag, what's the word?”

“Hospitality,” the Autobot helped. “It's probably best coming from you until Hotlink and I can figure out how not to let our skepticism get in the way.”

“I hope you do. I don't want to see you angry at everyone.” He paused for a moment before he spoke up again, but this time he had a determined look in his eye. “I don't want to be rude, Hot Rod, but when you were Rodimus, you were at least willing to be nice. You were nice to us. I just want to know what makes this different than when we first met.”

Hot Rod paused and stared at him blankly, a bit stunned that Sandstorm, of all cybertronians, would ask such a question. He let out a slow intake before leaning back against a console, setting down his cake and bear, and folding his arms, locking optics with the conehead.

“This isn't about them being what faction they are, if that's running through your mind. What's different is that you guys are my friends, and I am not Rodimus,” the autobot stated as calmly as he could. “They suddenly showed up and tried to walk all over us like they had some right to the hierarchy that's going on between us. Because of what? Their mission? Because they're the ‘good guys’ where they come from? You guys didn't threaten my friends. These guys feel like they're two steps away from doing so. And when people threaten Hot Rod's friends…” His expression changed to a fierce scowl. “He doesn't stand for it. Rodimus had a duty as the bearer of the Matrix to try and unite the universe. That is not my job.”

Hotlink paused from eating his slice and gave Hot Rod a small frown of concern.

“Why?” Sandstorm asked, the fire in his optics growing stronger.

“You're asking why I shouldn't have the weight of the universe thrust on my shoulders?!” Hot Rod asked defensively.

“No,” Sandstorm barked. “I'm asking why you think that you're… I don't know… different! That it makes you feel like you're free from making the universe a better place!”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear for you, then!” Hot Rod barked back. “Rodimus Prime was a failed attempt at me trying to be Optimus Prime! As leader of the Autobots, I was criticized because, ‘That's not the way Optimus would do it!’ So I tried to be him! And you know what I discovered?! It's impossible! Do I want universal peace?! Yeah, that'd be swell! But it's something beyond my capabilities, so I'm not going to pretend! Rodimus is a failure and I can't live up to Optimus Prime's legacy to bring peace!”

“Don't say that…” Alexis whimpered, looking a little hurt.

“Who cares if you live up to Optimus Prime?!?” Sandstorm bellowed, the fire of determination now burning in his optics.

“Every damn person on Cybertron!!” Hot Rod shouted back.

Hot Rod and Sandstorm locked optics for what felt like an eternity. Both didn’t seem like they were going to back down, until Sandstorm huffed and broke his optical lock with the Autobot and went back to his slice of cake.

“Fine,” Sandstorm surrendered begrudgingly. “If you're so worried about living up to someone who's offline because everyone else says so, then so be it.”

“I don’t expect you to understand!” Hot Rod growled.

“Hot Rod…” Hotlink interjected softly. “Why are you still with us?”

Hot Rod turned and glanced at the engineer. “What kind of question is that?”

“One of clarification. We’ve been with you on this journey for several weeks now and we haven’t seen or heard from any Decepticons, and you haven’t booted us off your ship,” Hotlink pointed out. “And while I’m grateful for that so far, there are others that need your help, especially since Galvatron is still out there. Why didn’t you drop us off somewhere and go back when that’s where Galvatron is?”

“Jazz, Kup, and Ultra Magnus had already discussed with me how I needed to go and check on our colony planets,” the Autobot reasoned.

“So because you’re Hot Rod now, you no longer plan on doing that? You’re going to let what happened to Alexis’ city happen again because you don’t have the Matrix anymore?”

Alexis winced at the question.

Hot Rod stared at Hotlink, his mouth agape at the sheer gall. “What the hell?! Why are you ganging up on me?!”

“Are you running from your faction?” Hotlink continued.

“No! Hotlink—” the Autobot began.

“We tried being nice about it, but you’re too thick-headed,” Hotlink continued, not letting the Autobot finish his sentence. “You’re running from responsibility because you’re scared of what people around you think. So you can’t be Optimus Prime. Grow up, and tell everyone who says you should be to stuff it up their tailpipes.”

Hot Rod grimaced, but still tried to look as calm and composed as he could. He knew Hotlink had a point, and it took a lot of self-control to not give it away. The room fell silent for a moment, as everyone stared at each other, with Sandstorm silently eating a few more bites from his slice of cake and glaring at Hot Rod. Alexis, on the other hand, has ditched her cake entirely, and was now climbing down the console she was on and began to hurriedly walk out of the room.

“Alexis, wait—” Hot Rod called after realizing she was leaving.

“No!” Alexis refused, stopping in her tracks and turning to glare at all the adults with tears in her eyes. “You all ruined everything!” she shouted at them. “You guys suck!” After this declaration, she turned back around and resumed storming out of the bridge and away from everybody.

“Wait! Alexis…” Sandstorm called. He set down his cake on the nearby console and went after her.

Hotlink watched as the two went and gained an uncomfortable and slightly ashamed look on his faceplate. “…I probably should have chosen my words more carefully,” he admitted.

“You think?” Hot Rod snapped. “Way to be inconsiderate.”

“That still doesn't put you in the right,” Hotlink retorted.

“No, of course not. So what do you want me to do? Go over to our new friends and tell them I'm Rodimus Prime?”

“Don't be so foolish,” Hotlink reasoned. “We may be irritated with you, but we don't want you throwing your life away. That's precisely why we're irritated. Just…” He paused, pursing his lips as he thought. “I think we all need to cool off and come back to this later when we can all think rationally again.”

“Fine,” Hot Rod grunted, picking his bear and his unfinished slice of cake from the console behind him, and leaving to go back to his room.

Hotlink sighed and watched as the Autobot left the room. He stared at the doorway for a few moments before he switched his gaze to look down at Heartburn and Heatstroke. “Well, this quickly dived into a disaster…” he muttered to the two newborns. “But at least it's all going over your heads.” The only responses Hotlink got was Heartburn looking up at the seeker, and Heatstroke taking a chunk of Hotlink’s slice of cake, glancing at it, and throwing it across the room and onto the floor.

[Meanwhile in the hall]

“Wait, Alexis…” Sandstorm called again, following the sound of her feet as she kept rounding corners. She had picked up the pace rather considerably, and was still getting away from the conehead. Eventually, Sandstorm caught her ducking into a small hole in the wall, probably one of the many hiding spots Redwing showed her.

Sandstorm let out a sigh and got onto his hands and knees, trying to see Alexis inside the nook in the wall. “Sweetheart,” he called gently. “Talk to me. What's wrong?”

“Go away!” she demanded from inside her hiding spot. “Why don't you go back to being a big jerk to Hot Rod with Hotlink?!”

“I'm not trying to be a jerk,” Sandstorm reasoned. “He's just being a jerk to people he doesn't know.”

“I didn't see you yelling at Hotlink!”

“Well…” Sandstorm couldn’t think of anything to say. She did have a point. “Yeah…” he finally sighed.

“Just go away,” she demanded a second time, but much less forcefully. “I wanna be alone.”

“But… Alexis…” Sandstorm pleaded.

He didn’t get any response. He waited a few moments before giving up and rising to his feet. He did feel a little guilty about hurting Alexis’ expectations, but he felt like he had to make his point to Hot Rod. He continued to think as he kept his gaze down to the ground and made his way back to the bridge.

It was just Hotlink and the twins when Sandstorm walked back into the room. Cake had found a way to get onto the floor, probably one of the twin’s doing.

“Is she okay?” Hotlink asked.

“I don't know,” Sandstorm shrugged. “She told me to go away.”

“Sorry…” the engineer apologized. “I wasn’t trying to be a slagheap; I was just trying to make Hot Rod see your point…”

“I know. I just don't know what she's so upset about.”

“Well… We kind of ruined her hard work with that argument,” Hotlink admitted.

“Her hard work? You mean the party?”

“Yeah. She was the one that got everything orchestrated. We’ve been fighting amongst ourselves a lot, lately, so I bet she was trying to make some sort of difference. But we just ended up fighting again.”

Sandstorm brought one of his hands up to rub his forehead, realizing that Hotlink pointed out what he had missed. “Yeah…” He let out a long sigh.

“…We'll have to figure out a way to make it up to her,” the purple seeker decided.

“How?” Sandstorm asked. “I don't know the first thing it takes to be her dad. I’ve mostly been relying on Rodimus and you to help every now and again.”

“We told you it would be tough when you decided to take the job. Hm… What do little human girls like?” Hotlink mused to himself, falling silent as he tried to think. “She seems to enjoy human traditions.” He let out a sigh. “Which means we’ll have to check with Hot Rod once he’s cooled off.”

“Great…” the conehead muttered.

“…Or…” Hotlink began, but then winced and let out another sigh. “I hate to even suggest this… Maybe you could try asking other Hotlink for ideas.”

Sandstorm perked up and looked over at the engineer. “You think she'll have an idea what to do?”

“If she's got any semblance of me within her,” Hotlink reasoned. “She might have a few.”

“Yeah…” Sandstorm said slowly. He thought about the suggestion for a second, nodding and smiling as it settled into his processor.. “Okay. Yeah! That's a good idea.”

“Hope I don't regret suggesting it,” Hotlink muttered, shaking his head. He then glanced back up to the conehead. “Good luck.”

“I don't see how you will,” Sandstorm assured, feeling more confident. He picked up his piece of cake from off the control panel and made for the door. “Thanks, Hotlink.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sandstorm was now excited. He took a couple bites of cake as he began to think about his date for tomorrow. Maybe this date would help Hot Rod and Hotlink feel a little safer around Straxus’ team. Either way, he knew he had a big day tomorrow, and he needed to get ready for it.

Chapter Text

The sun had barely begun to rise up over the horizon when Hotlink stirred from his recharge. He awoke as he usually did nowadays. Groggily, with not enough sleep and too much on his list of things to do. The first thing he had to do, though, was check on Heartburn and Heatstroke to make sure they were okay. Hotlink rose from his recharge slab and shuffled his way over to the makeshift crib he had made for both of them. He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw the two of them still there, resting and recharging without much fuss coming from either of them.

Assured that the twins were still where they needed to be, Hotlink decided to get some fuel and quiet time to himself. As he wandered out of the room, he had to marvel at how quiet it was without Redwing around. It was a minor change of pace, but an appreciated one. Usually when Hotlink was moving about, so was Redwing. Sometimes even earlier than Hotlink was ready for, and with Primus-knew-what problem awaiting for the engineer.

But what surprised Hotlink most was when he walked into the dining area and found Sandstorm up as well, the conehead digging around one of the storage drawers in search for something.

“Oh… Where is it…?” Sandstorm muttered as he rummaged around in the drawers.

“Morning…” Hotlink tried to greet in his half-awake state, traipsing to the energon dispenser to get some fuel.

Sandstorm paused for a moment and glanced over at the engineer. “Hey, Hotlink.” He swiftly went back to looking in the drawer. “You wouldn't happen to know where our wax is, do you?”

“Mm…? Oh… Yeah, I put that away. It’s, um…” Hotlink closed his optics and snapped his fingers a few times, trying to get his processor to recall the information. “…middle drawer in the hall.”

Sandstorm ditched the drawer he was just digging in and went to the one Hotlink mentioned. There was a few seconds pause before Sandstorm shouted, “Aha! Thanks.”

Hotlink continued to get ready for his day. Gripping a newly acquired energon cube, he sipped from it slowly, standing in place with his optics closed as he felt his systems gradually finish their startup. Once he felt partially recharged, he set the half-empty cube down on the counter and began to make his way back to his workstation. On his way, he caught a glimpse of Sandstorm in the washroom, standing in front of the mirror and lathering himself with the wax.

The purple seeker glanced out of a nearby viewport again, and squinted as he realized that the sun was just halfway up over the horizon. “Isn’t it a bit early for a date…?” he asked the conehead.

Sandstorm paused lathering himself to glance over at Hotlink. “Uhh… I don't know.”

“Did you two set up a time?”

“Ummmm… Not really…”

“Alright, well… At least wait until there's more daylight before going out to knock on their door.”

“Wait, I have to knock on their door?” Sandstorm gasped, his optics widening slightly. “I though she was going to come here.”

“From what I recall,” Hotlink informed, thinking back to what little information he had on the subject, “types like other Hotlink expect the person they're going on a date with to take the initiative.”

“Oh. So…” Sandstorm paused, trying to think about what he had to actually do. “That means I have to do… what?”

“You go to their door, knock, ask for her, and escort her to wherever you two decided to go on a date,” the engineer elaborated.

“Oh…” the conehead realized, growing a look of concern on his faceplate. “That sounds stressful,” he admitted.

“Does it?”

“Yeah. I've never been on a date before. I don't know what I have to do.”

“First thing is to decide where you two are going, I think,” Hotlink rumbled. “I've never really been on a real date before either, but I've heard stories and read some things.”

“Oh. Uhhhhhh…” Sandstorm was increasingly going paler and paler as Hotlink continued to give the conehead information. Pretty soon, he was silent and obviously worried, biting his lower lip with his optic ridges slanted as if he were upset.

The engineer picked up on this reaction. “I'm going to take that as a ‘I hadn't discussed it with her.’” He let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead with a hand. “Vector Sigma… Okay, has there been any place that stuck out to you while we've been camped out here?”

“I don't get a lot of chances to get out of the ship,” Sandstorm responded. “Homework and Alexis and Redwing and all that.”

“Right…” Hotlink acknowledged with a nod. “Tell you what, how about we just… consult the computer? See what sticks out to you.”

“Oh. That's a good idea!” Sandstorm really perked up at the suggestion, rushing off past Hotlink and briskly walking to the control room.

Hotlink was able to get out of Sandstorm’s way just in time to let the conehead pass. He followed his trinemate at a slower pace, trying to rub the tired out of his optics. “I don't understand how you and Redwing have no issues getting your systems started in the mornings…” he tried to say while stifling a yawn.

“I'm not usually a morning person either,” Sandstorm admitted over his shoulder. “I'm just… nervous.”

“What’s to be nervous about?” Hotlink queried. “You’re just going out and doing stuff with someone. You do it all the time with us.”

“Well, yeah. But I'm not the one planning things. It's always been Redwing planning things. And… maybe Rodimus, or Hot Rod. Whatever he's calling himself.”

“Guess this is good practice for making your own decisions, then,” Hotlink declared.

The two made it to the bridge and strode over to the computer, and Hotlink began typing on the keypad, entering several queries to look for any events. Fortunately enough, several results popped up on the screen. “Okay, there’s several towns and cities to choose from,” the engineer informed. “Considering she's a ground model, you'll want to stick to cities within a twenty-five mile radius. One of them is bound to have something interesting.”

“Okay…” Sandstorm nodded. He read through the information that was on the screen, each line giving the name of the city and the events that were taking place in each one. What made it even more difficult was that different cities had various events. “How… am I going to know if she likes any of this?” he asked.

Hotlink thought for a moment. “If it were me… and I were a flirty femme… I'd like something like…” He glanced over the information again and pointed to a line on the screen. “That there. A culture festival. Something outdoors with people and lots of different things to do and see.”

“Flirty?” Sandstorm asked curiously. “What does that mean? I haven't heard that in my lessons.”

“Ah…” Hotlink tensed, clearly unprepared for such a question. “It's the act of... uh... expressing an interest in... romantic relationships... And usually in a quantitive amount,” he answered, trying to give some information without being too explicit.

“Oh. So she has experience with this sort of thing.”

“…Yyyeeessss…” the engineer agreed tentatively.

“Cool. Maybe if I explain how new I am at this, she'll cut me some slack?” the conehead asked with hope.

“Possibly…” Hotlink agreed hesitantly. “Just… don't let her touch you. In any spots that make you uncomfortable.”

Sandstorm furrowed his optic ridges. “Okay, you and Hot Rod have been warning me about her not touching me? Is touching bad in a relationship? Is it because she's not one of us?”

“No, touching is fine, just…” The purple seeker paused, trying to find the words to describe what he was trying to convey to someone who was two years old and unfamiliar with this sort of thing. “When both bots have consented and said it's okay to do so. If it's not comfortable for you, then you need to make it clear. And if she persists, you need to get away. Some bots are driven by… bodily desires… more than others. And it leaves bad effects on those they go after. Just… be careful that doesn't happen to you. That's all we're saying.”

Sandstorm clearly wasn't fully comprehending the explanation, but that was honestly the best Hotlink could come up with at the moment. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. Is there anything else you can tell me before I go on this date?”

“Be a gentlemech. Think of her before yourself. Aside from that… Uhhh, try not to spend too much time in silence? Awkward silence, anyway. Dates are times to get to know who you're with better.”

“Oh. That doesn't sound too bad,” Sandstorm responded, feeling more assured with the statement.

“Then I think you're set,” Hotlink stated with a nod. “You go out and have a good time. See what she thinks might cheer up Alexis. I'll look after the kids.” Hotlink moved his hand to sip from his energon cube, only to realize that it was no longer in his hand. He blinked a couple times before he let out a sigh. “…After I get some more fuel.”

“Oh yeah. Fuel is a thing,” the conehead recalled. “I almost forgot.”

The engineer chuckled as he led the way back to the kitchen to get his fuel and a portion for Sandstorm.

“So…” the young bot began, while gaining a strange fidget with his fingers. “This is all about me getting to know the other Hotlink… but why do I feel…” He paused as he tried to find the word he was looking for. “…so nervous?”

“That's natural for new experiences,” Hotlink reassured. “You'll get used to it and be more relaxed the more you go on dates.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah, one hundred percent.” Hotlink and Sandstorm entered the kitchen and the purple seeker made for the fuel dispenser. He continued, “Calmness comes with experiences that you can fall back on, and create systems and routines for. Once something is much more known, there tends to be less panic.” He walked back over to Sandstorm and handed him an energon cube.

The young mech took the cube offered to him and took a couple gulps out of it before speaking again. “So… this may just be me worrying, but what if she doesn't like me? How will I know?”

“If she doesn't like you…” Hotlink thought for a minute, coming up a couple of indicators. “…she'll look and act aloof and disinterested. The defining question you should ask when dropping her off back at her ship is if she would like to do it again at some point. If she says ‘yes’, you don't have anything to worry about. If she says she'll think about it, chances are you two didn't hit it off. Nothing to really take personally, mind. Sometimes two individuals just aren't compatible with each other.”

“Got it.” Sandstorm nodded and took another gulp of the cube in his hands.

Hotlink took a sip from his own cube before refocusing on the conehead. “Think you're good to go?” he asked.

The young bot hesitated, taking in a deep intake before letting out slowly. “As good as I can be… I think,” he admitted.

“Good luck, then. Let me know how it goes when you come back.” Sandstorm didn’t give a verbal response, but he did nod as he guzzled down the last of his cube then darted out of the room.

Hotlink stared as he left, then took another sip from his cube and glanced out the window to watch the sun rise over the trees.

[Perspective Change]

The alternate Sandstorm was left on guard duty as his Hotlink was busy with her project in the back. He watched out the viewport for any signs of movement from the Autobot ship that was parked right next to them. The sun was already a good ways into the sky when he saw his alternate coming out of his ship and walking straight towards theirs.

“Hotlink!” he called, swiveling around to face the general direction of Hotlink’s temporary workstation.

“Whaaat, Sandstorm?” the femme called back, an unconscious Straxus laying on the table that Shattered Glass Hotlink was working on.

“That newborn is coming to the door!”

“Oh! Primus, uh, I'm almost done!” she exclaimed hurriedly. “Stall for me!” She then promptly closed the door to the room she was working in, concealing her work.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm rolled his optics. He knew it was standard protocol for her to do that sort of thing, but she didn’t have to. The chopper knew he could hold the approaching alternate back from seeing what she was working on. He let out a sigh and moved to the entrance to wait for the conehead.

There was a slight pause before Sandstorm knocked on the door of the frigate. The alternate opened it and eyed the young conehead.

“What is it, newborn?” he grunted, trying to sound menacing.

“Uh… I, uh… am here to pick up Hotlink?” the two-year-old stammered anxiously. “Is she here?”

“She might be,” the alternate responded vaguely, narrowing his optics and squinting at him. “Where're you taking her?”

“There, uh, is a festival in a nearby town… I was, uh, hoping to take her to that today…”

“And what makes you think—”

The copter didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. His teammate appeared behind him and yanked him out of the doorway, throwing him a sharp glare. “‘Buy me time to finish’ does not mean ‘interrogate the poor mech’!” she reprimanded.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm snarled at being scolded, but knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He grumbled for a moment before sulking away and out of sight.

Alternate Hotlink let out a sigh as her teammate went, then turned her attention to Sandstorm and greeted him with a cheerful expression. “Sandstorm! Good morning! I heard something about a culture festival? Sounds exciting!”

“Y-Yeah!” the conehead confirmed, trying to collect his thoughts and shake away the anxiety he was feeling. “There's a festival in one of the towns nearby. I figured we could go there… if… uh, that's okay with you?”

“Of course, sweetspark.” She exited the ship, shutting the door behind her just as Straxus was walking by, with his head in one of his hands and looking quite perplexed. “Let's go before grumpy bolts gets any ideas.”

“Yeah.” Sandstorm blinked at the scene behind her for a moment, but decided it was best not to pry. He turned around and began to lead the way for a moment, but he stopped and turned to look at his date. “Do you want to stop anywhere before we go?” he asked.

“No place in particular is coming to mind,” the femme answered as she stepped after him.

“Okay. Then I guess we go straight to the town then. It's in… uh…” Sandstorm paused as he gained a perplexed expression. He spun around as he tried to gain his bearings and remember which way the festival was. Once he got an idea, he pointed on the horizon. “That way… I think.”

Alternate Hotlink let out a chuckle. “Take to the air, then, and you can guide me.” She did a hop and transformed, waiting patiently in her alt mode while Sandstorm transformed and began to fly in the direction he pointed in. His date followed him along the ground, heading off towards their destination.

They traveled in silence for a moment before Shattered Glass Hotlink spoke. “So sorry about Sandstorm the Door Guard,” she apologized. “He wasn't harassing you too badly, was he?”

“Nah, not at all,” Sandstorm assured. “He's just… very big.”

His date chortled at the statement. “Yes, and he knows it. He'll frequently use that to his advantage.”

“Oh… I can… uh… tell.”

“You're awfully tense, hon,” alternate Hotlink noted. “Are you sure he didn't say something to you I should know about?”

“Nonono!” Sandstorm reiterated quickly. “It's fine! I promise it is.”

“All right, since you're certain. What would you like to talk about instead?”

“Umm… I don't know… Uh… You're from an alternate timeline?”

“Ah, I think you might be a little confused, honey. The correct terminology is 'alternate universe',” the femme corrected. “‘Timeline’ would indicate that we're from a divergence of your timeline.”

“Oh,” Sandstorm realized. “I… guess that would make things a bit more awkward then… wouldn’t it?”

“I’m sure it very much would be for both parties,” alternate Hotlink confirmed. “But it’s a good thing that isn’t the case!”

“Heh…” The young mech chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it's a good thing.” He fell silent again as he tried to think of anything for conversation. “Ummm.… So… Uh… How are things back on your Cybertron?”

“Not good,” she answered solemnly. “We're deep at war with the Autobots, so we're doing what we can to gain the upper hand.”

“Oh…”

“I won’t burden you with the ember-breaking details. After all, we’re going on this date to have a good time, not a solemn one.”

“Right… So, uh… How was your day—” Sandstorm felt his spark go cold as he realized what he said. “Oh wait…”

His date laughed endearingly at the question. “Aw, you poor thing~ You don't get out much with other bots, do you?”

“Not really, no,” he admitted with a sigh. “I'm two and, I think we already told you, but we were kinda shot at by Galvatron’s troops when we were leaving Cybertron. Or so I was told.”

“Sounds to me like your Cybertron is in the middle of a war, as well. Why do you and your trine not fight to save it?”

“I don't know. Redwing and Hotlink both claim that Galvatron was the one trying to kill us. He also had the seeker program shut down. I'm… kinda the last generation of seekers.”

“Right, but surely you three and your Autobot friend could make an effort to fight against him?”

Sandstorm paused and took in a deep intake and let it out slowly. “I… have unkind words to say about that,” he said with restraint, trying to be as kind as he could with his date speeding underneath him.

Not that it stopped her from probing. “Oh?”

“Me, Hotlink, and Rod— er, I mean, Hot Rod, had a heated discussion about it last night,” he elaborated.

“Ah, I see,” she acknowledged. “I'm sorry for touching a sensitive topic.”

“Nah, it's fine,” he assured. “We'll probably be distracted by whatever nonsense Redwing comes up with when he comes back.”

“How do you think those two are doing, wherever they are?”

Sandstorm let out a sigh. “Probably slinging around the universe on a bungie cord, I'm sure.”

The alternate Hotlink chuckled. “Would yours really?”

“You saw him pull out a cube and teleport away,” the conehead reminded. “I wouldn't put it past him.”

“How many trinkets like that does he have?” she pressed inquisitively.

“I don't know. He likes to keep to himself…” Sandstorm answered. “Which is weird, considering how talkative he can be. He probably keeps it all in his closet… which he has made clear that no one is supposed to go in.”

“Why would that be, do you think?” she pried. “Is it an issue of trust?”

“I don't know. He said we ‘weren’t ready’ and when we asked why, he just ran off.”

“I see…” Alternate Hotlink mused to herself.

“Yeah, and we still haven’t gotten an explanation to this day.”

“…Perhaps in time the meaning will come to light,” she suggested.

“I doubt it,” the conehead grumbled.

“Ah, is that town ahead the one we're stopping at?” the femme asked as a collection of buildings and structures came into view in the distance.

Sandstorm snapped himself out of wherever his thoughts were wandering and looked. Sure enough, there was the town, and there were lovely banners and tents set up, with performers on stands, large balloons, and street floats. “Oh yeah,” he confirmed. “That's it there.”

“It looks very lively! I’m excited already!”

“G-Great!” Sandstorm smiled, feeling better about the date already. “Then let's go!”

Sandstorm charged ahead with Shattered Glass Hotlink hot on his trail, both transforming when they got close to the settlement and going in to have a good time together.

[Perspective Change]

Shattered Glass Sandstorm watched as the purple seeker took the two minicons and the human girl off into the woods. He eyed them as they went, but they didn’t know that he was watching and making a mental note about it.
The sound of a door opening broke his focus from the departing group and the chopper turned to see Straxus entering the control room.

“Anything happen?” the commander asked.

“Hotlink left with that newborn, and other Hotlink just left the ship with their kids,” the sentry reported. “Which leaves behind only the Autobot.”

“Hmmmm…” Straxus hummed, bringing his hand up to massage his chin as he thought. “Just the Autobot… What was his name? Hot Rod?”

“Yeah. Looked like a weakling. I think we can take the fragger, no problem.”

“Yeah… I think so, too. I can handle him.” The commander motioned for the copter to follow and began to move to the door. “Remember, anything we find, we take. Information, technology, but most importantly, the Matrix or information about the next Prime. We can figure out how to get Redwing back later.”

The soldier nodded, understanding the directions and doing a quick stretch as he tailed Straxus.

The two quietly and stealthily made their way to the Autobot ship as best they could in broad daylight. Once the two were at the door, Straxus tested it, only to find it locked. Once confirmed, he took a couple steps back and nodded at his Sandstorm.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm understood what his commander wanted him to do. He took his position in front of the door and after a few seconds, he lifted his leg up and bashed the door in as hard as he could, badly warping and bending the metal slab that prevented the outside world from entering.

The two bolted inside and swiftly moved to find what they were looking for. They didn’t get far before they encountered Hot Rod, standing in their path and looking quite shocked, but only for a moment before he aimed his arm vents at the intruders.

Straxus saw the motion and got into a combat stance. “Stand down, Autobot,” he warned. “You're outmatched.”

“Do you guys even understand the concept of knocking?” Hot Rod asked snidely. “Or are you too focused on winning no matter who you trample?!”

“Stuff it and stand aside!” the alternate Sandstorm ordered.

“Make me!” Hot Rod opposed.

Straxus rushed forward, charging at the Autobot. The smaller mech took a couple shots at him, but ultimately missed as Straxus dodged to the side of Hot Rod and kicked his legs out from under him, causing the Autobot to get sent to the floor. Once Hot Rod was on the ground, Straxus moved to keep him pinned there.

Hot Rod had other ideas. He rolled out of the way and scrambled to get back onto his feet. He then caught a glimpse of the other attacker rushing him as well, and ducked backwards, causing both Straxus and the alternate Sandstorm to collide with each other and stumble to the ground. With his two opponents now fumbling, Hot Rod took off for control room of the ship.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm caught a glance of the fleeing Autobot as he scrambled to get back up on his feet. “Why, that rusty—!” he snarled, taking a couple steps to pursue him.

“No, Sandstorm!” Straxus called, quickly getting to his own feet. “I'll deal with the Autobot! Find the ship server, and get as much information from it as you can!” he ordered.

The chopper stopped and let out another snarl before letting the commander pass him to pursue their quarry. He watched as Straxus left, then turned to explore a different part of the ship.

Hot Rod burst into the control room and locked the door as soon as he could to buy him some more time. Once he was sure they were locked, he went over to the ship’s controls and locked those up as well, so that they couldn’t be used.
He nearly froze in place when he heard the controls to the door behind him beep and refuse to open for the intruder on the other side. The Autobot looked around frantically, trying to find some way to get out. He smirked briefly when his gaze went upward, to a vent and a well-known crawlspace that he knew Redwing used often. Moving the vent cover aside, he began to hoist himself into the space.

When he was about waist high into the crawlspace, Hot Rod heard a shout of frustration from the other side of the door, followed by a blast which broke the door from its hinges. He almost lost his grip when the blast hit, but he was able to recover and get the rest of himself into Redwing’s hiding space. He then glanced around in hopes that there was something in there worthwhile, but those hopes were dashed when all he saw were old boardgames, plastic bags with who-knew-what inside of them, and broken bits of wood.
“Seriously?” the Autobot muttered to himself.

“Wha— What do you hope to achieve from up there?” Straxus gaped.

Hot Rod jumped and got away from the hole. He saw the intruder walking over to peer in, so he snatched the heaviest bag he could. “Keeping away from you, overgrown bully!” he shouted as he chucked the bag down upon the pursuer.

The bag hit its mark, beaning Straxus square in the head and forcing him to take a few steps back. “What was that?!?” he barked.

“Get! The FRAG! Out!!” the smaller mech shouted before throwing another heavy bag down the hole. “I'll shoot you next; don't think I won’t!!”

The second bag did not hit what it was supposed to. Straxus was a couple feet away from the hole and just watched as bags of random things were being chucked from it. “How much garbage do you have up there?” he asked, watching another bag fall from the ceiling.

“Redwing keeps a lot of his slag everywhere!” Hot Rod yelled, tossing another bag down. He paused as he thought about what he said. “Why am I even talking with you?! You aftports can go take a flying leap!”

There was silence for a moment, but only for a moment. The sound of a transformation could be heard below, and then the ceiling started getting punctured with holes all around Hot Rod, who curled up into a ball and let out a swear before asking, “Does this mean trashing your ship is free game?!”

Straxus didn’t answer. Instead, he fired one last shot that caused the ceiling that Hot Rod was hiding in to collapse under him. The Autobot let out a yelp as his cover fell under his weight and sent him crashing to the floor beneath. And the impact was not soft. Hot Rod hit the ground hard and had to take a moment to recover, grimacing from the pain.

“You…!” he snarled, shooting Straxus a sharp glance as he tried to get to his feet.

Straxus didn’t waste any time, transforming back onto his feet and rushing to pin Hot Rod again. The Autobot tried to get out of the way, but his foot got caught by a piece of the ceiling, forcing him to lose his balance and collapse to the ground once more. Before he could rectify his position, Straxus was on him, pinning the Autobot’s arms behind his back.

“Now, if you can be cooperative,” Straxus rumbled, “we can get this over with.”

“Frag off!!” Hot Rod cursed, glaring at his captor over his shoulder.

“Answer these two questions,” the tank commanded. “Where is the technology your Redwing has? And where is the Matrix of Leadership?”

Hot Rod scoffed. “And I should tell you, why?”

“Because it will get us out of your circuits faster,” Straxus reasoned. “And it will prevent me from having to use a special piece of medical equipment.”

“Tch!” Hot Rod snarled. He knew he wasn’t in a good position, and the choices he had were now limited. He turned his head to glare at the floor. “...Third hall, fourth door. And I don’t. Know,” he answered venomously.

“Good.” Straxus picked up Hot Rod up off the ground while keeping him in the arm lock and began to shove the Autobot out of the control room, into the hall. “SANDSTORM!” he bellowed. “WE'VE GOT SOMETHING!”

Shattered Glass Sandstorm came as quickly as he could, approaching the two and taking a moment to survey the wreckage of the room the two were just in. “Looks like he put up more of a fight than we thought he would.”

“You two proud of yourselves?” Hot Rod mocked. “Woohoo, we ganged up on an Autobot that isn't part of our war! We're one step closer to ‘peace'!”

“Unless you can tell us where the Matrix is, shut up,” Straxus ordered. He led the group down to Redwing’s closet and paused in front of it. “This is where Redwing keeps his ‘goodies’?” he asked the captive.

Hot Rod didn’t answer. He just glanced between his two attackers as they stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“Answer him, brat!” the alternate Sandstorm shouted.

“He told me to shut up,” the smartass replied calmly. “Sounds like your leader needs to make up his mind.”

The chopper wound back his arm and delivered a sturdy back-handed smack across Hot Rod’s face.

Hot Rod grunted from the hit and turned back to glare at the alternate Sandstorm. “Oh, yeah, I feel real compliant now!”

“Kick the door down,” Straxus ordered. “I can use the tools on him later.”

“Ooh, torture now?” the Autobot mouthed off again.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm grumbled and shook his head, clearly not enjoying having his time wasted. He positioned himself in front of the door, and gave the door a solid kick, causing it to fall onto the floor of the small closet.

Straxus and his lieutenant moved to peer inside. Hot Rod got a good look, too, but he could almost feel his spark sink. The room itself was empty. Too empty. There were some dust particles swirling in the air from the door being kicked in, but that was the only sign of activity in the room. Other than that, it looked pristine. The only other thing that was in the room was a silver-and-gold dome, with two prongs tucked in a cavity on top, and a strangely decorative ‘M’ surrounded by polygons in a rhombus fashion.

Alternate Sandstorm got a good look around the small room, before turning to grab Hot Rod by the sides of his jaw, squeezing a little with frustration. “Do you think this is a game?!” he snarled.

“Agh!” the Autobot exclaimed, wincing at the pain. “No, this is it! I swear!”

“No… No…” Straxus muttered. His head began to hurt as he tried to process the situation. “No no no! I refuse to be tricked again!” He swung Hot Rod around, unintentionally dislocating the smaller mech’s arms, and pinned him against the far wall of the hallway. “This is your LAST chance Autobot!” he shouted.

“I'm telling you the truth!!” Hot Rod grimaced as his dislocated arms were pinned against his back even harder, a throbbing pain coming from his shoulder joints on top of the pressure put on his back and forearms.

“Y-Y-You LIE!” Straxus stuttered, the pain in his head now searing. “You're an AUTO—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. The sound of a sonic boom caught everyone off guard, and a portal looking exactly like the one Redwing used to leave opened up right next to them.

Chapter Text

Straxus, Shattered Glass Sandstorm, and Hot Rod all snapped their heads towards the direction of the now open portal. Something that immediately caught the Autobot’s attention was the smell. The smell that poured from the portal was foul. Fire, smoke, electricity, and spilled energon.

“W-What?” Straxus stuttered as he took in the startling sight and smells.

“An Autobot trap!” the Alternate Sandstorm declared, pulling out his blaster and aiming it at the portal.

“You guys are hopelessly DEAF!” Hot Rod shouted with utter frustration.

Stepping though the portal was Redwing, in fairly rough shape to boot. His plating was scraped and cut in several areas, revealing the wiring and circuitry underneath. Blaster burns and holes decorated his wings and torso. His arms were coated in dried energon all the way up to his biceps, and the Dark Saber was strapped to his back.

But the damage on Redwing paled in comparison to the mangled body of the alternate Redwing. Or rather, what was left of it.

“Redwing!” Hot Rod gasped in horror, struggling to try and break free from his captor’s grasp to get to them.

“R…Redwing?” Straxus gaped. Optics flicking over his teammate's state with growing distress, he let go of his captive and tentatively approached the two returning seekers.

“What the SLAG happened to him?!” the alternate Sandstorm demanded, dropping his weapon as he and joined Straxus' approach.

Despite the fact that they were all headed in the same direction, Hot Rod promptly darted over to the pair of Redwings, passing the larger bots quickly in case they changed their mind and made a grab at him again.

Redwing continued moving forward despite the approaching trio, and the portal closed behind him. A few steps in, he knelt down to lay what was left of Shattered Glass Redwing's body onto the ground. “Sleep well, warrior,” he whispered to the remains. He then rose up to his feet, not taking his optics off the mangled body.

Straxus didn’t wait after the body was set down. He knelt down and began to frantically open up the corpse, desperately trying to find something in the chest cavity. “His… His ember…” he breathed. “I can't see his ember!” He continued to dig around, trying to search for something that clearly was no longer there.

“He's…” Hot Rod began, but he quickly lost his voice. He continued to stare down at the sight of the young mech on the floor before he tore his gaze away to the tattered seeker that stood over the remains.

“You!!” Sandstorm’s other snarled, grabbing the remaining Redwing by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “This is your fault!! The hell did you have to go and drag him into that mess for with just the two of you?!”

“Oh child.” Redwing shook his head, grabbing the chopper’s hands in a strangely solid grip and removing them from his shoulders. “If you only understood what happened.”

“Then tell us, dammit!!” the brute demanded.

Redwing inhaled sharply and grimaced. “It was the worst act of betrayal I had ever seen. She even looked at him. Called him by name… took him in close… and then stabbed him. She had no remorse… No pity.” He shook his head with a snarl on his face. “I was disgusted. She didn't have pity on him, so I didn't have pity on her. And I didn't stop at her.” Pools of lubricant began to well up from underneath his optics, but he continued on. “There were others. All of them were clearly trained by the sadistic Moonracer. Agents… assassins… infiltrators… All of them. They kept appearing out of nowhere to try and stop me. And once I finished with Moonracer… The reinforcements came… then their second, Omega Doom… I killed them all.” It was after that last sentence that he broke. He brought up his scuffed hands to his face as he let out long and heavy sobs.

The bits of story were enough to have everyone fall silent, with the sobs of the seeker filling the silence left by everyone else. The alternate Sandstorm gritted his teeth and took a few steps away from the group. Once he was a good distance away, he threw a fist into the nearby wall in frustration and anger.

“I… I-I-I…” Straxus stammered, but he couldn’t finish the sentence. He re-examined the body, focusing outside its chest cavity now. The legs and lower torso were gone, as well as his right arm. On his left hand, his middle two digits were missing from their sockets, as if pulled from their place.

Hot Rod took a few steps towards Redwing and gently hugged him to the best of his ability, ignoring the screeching of his arms from not only the dislocation of his shoulders, but also the awkward height and shape Redwing was, the seeker standing a couple heads higher than him, and the wings the Autobot had to wrap his aching arms around didn’t help.

Regardless, Redwing didn’t object to the embrace from the Autobot. He took in a deep intake as he breathed through his complete set of fingers and rubbed them together, taking a few seconds to get himself mentally back together. “Thank you, Noodle Boy…” he uttered softly.

Hot Rod gave the seeker a few comforting pats on the back before letting go.

“Those Autobot slagheaps...!” the chopper growled, interrupting the moment. “They’ll all get theirs!” he vowed.

Hot Rod shot him a wary squint, but didn’t get a chance to say anything before Redwing spoke up.

“Speaking of Autobot slagheaps, I need to speak to the root of these problems,” he declared, his gaze shifting from pained to grimly serious as he turned his attention towards Straxus. “Where is 'Hotlink', hm?”

Straxus looked up at Redwing, with blatant worry in his optics. “I… Uh…”

“She... went out with your Sandstorm this morning,” Alternate Sandstorm answered slowly with clear hesitation.

“Is he in any danger, Redwing?” Hot Rod pressed with a hint of urgency.

“Nah… I don't think so,” Redwing answered, pulling out his teleportation cube. “At least… not yet, anyways.”

“NO!” Straxus blurted, jumping up to his feet and grabbing one of Redwing's wrist to try and stop him. “I… I-I-I can't l-l-let you!” he stuttered uncharacteristically.

“Oh? And why's that?” Redwing queried, raising an optic ridge in the commander’s direction. “Is it because she messed with the bard that's supposed to be Straxus?”

Straxus blinked at the question. “W-What?”

“Yeah, I did my research. Straxus is a bard on the outskirts of Darkmount. Or he was, until a fateful ‘accident’,” the red seeker informed, not taking his optics off Straxus. “And you, my brainwashed friend, do not act like a bard.”

Straxus fell silent, the earlier pain that had developed in his head somehow relieved by the statement. But the ache was still there. And it was strong enough to keep him feeling disoriented and unable to respond to the initial question.

“You're saying she mucked around with his head??” Hot Rod gaped, glancing between Redwing and Straxus with an appalled expression.

The chopper just outside the door grimaced at the sentence. He didn’t like where the conversation was going, and he knew he had to change it quickly. Swiftly, he squatted down to pick up his weapon again and turned to glare at Redwing. “Oh, no you don't. You ain't messing with Straxus' head.” He tried to redirect the blame from where it should be, raising his gun slowly and aiming it at the seeker. “You take one—”

A shot from off to his left cut him off. It hit his blaster out of his hand, causing Sandstorm to recoil his hand with a curse. He glanced over to where the shot came from, only to see the seeker Hotlink standing around a corner and pointing his blaster at at him.

“I am sick of you lot disturbing our peace and threatening our wellbeing!” the purple seeker snarled. He slowly approached the group with his gun trained on Shattered Glass Sandstorm. Once he was close enough, he glanced at the situation going on inside the closet and quickly lost his aggression. “Oh slag… Did I jump the gun a bit and misunderstand…?” he checked.

“No, you did good,” Hot Rod answered promptly, giving him a thumbs-up. “Thanks.”

“Okay, so now…” Hotlink glanced between the two intruders. “What'd I miss…?”

“Oh… not much.” Redwing responded offhandedly, opening up another portal. “I'm going to go have a chat with 'Hotlink'.” With little effort, Redwing removed himself from Straxus' grasp and went through the portal.

“NO!” Straxus barked out with a pleading tone as soon as his grip was released. He moved to go after Redwing, but for some reason his legs didn’t want to cooperate. Instead, they tripped over themselves, causing the commander to fall to the floor. He raised his head just in time to see the eccentric disappear and the portal close behind him. “W-W-W-We have to stop him!” he proclaimed as he got back to his feet, but any conviction that he would have had in that sentence was gone, only replaced by a new type of headache.

“Forget it,” Hot Rod scolded, furrowing his optic ridges at the other commander.

Hotlink shifted the aim of his blasters to both Straxus and Shattered Glass Sandstorm, and flicked his glare between the two. “If either of you so much as move without our say so, I’m putting holes in your bodies. I am not in the mood for your slag,” he warned.

“And who’re you to give us orders?!” the alternate Sandstorm demanded, glowering back at him.

“My. Ship,” Hotlink stated with a fiery shine in his optics. “My Autobot you’re messing with.”

“M-Mission… Mission failed…” Straxus uttered pitifully, bringing his hands up to his head and falling to his knees. “Mission failed… Mission failed…”

“That sure doesn’t sound like sane talk,” Hot Rod commented grimly. “Guess Redwing was right about you being brainwashed.”

“By that other Hotlink? I knew there was something off about her,” Hotlink huffed, peering at the decimated seeker remains left on the floor.

“That’s what Redwing’s hinting at, anyway. He didn’t share anything concrete. You really didn’t miss much apart from these two ganging up on me, destroying the ship—” Hot Rod paused and gave the body on the ground a look of compassion. “—and then Redwing coming back with poor other Redwing… The mission went horridly…”

“Damn…” Hotlink let out. “He was so young…”

With the two bots too distracted with the corpse on the ground and getting caught up, they failed to react in time to alternate Sandstorm bolting at them. By the time the two of them turned, the assailant threw a hit at Hotlink’s arm, who let out a pained yelp in reaction and clutched it. The engineer hissed through his teeth as he glanced down at the injury to see that the impact had cracked some of his plating. Meanwhile the chopper had continued past him and made for the ship’s entrance.

“Hey!!” Hot Rod shouted, beginning to dart after him.

“Hot Rod, don’t chase him!” Hotlink called after him, recovering quickly and aiming his good arm back towards Straxus. “Let him go. Go check the kids. They should be in the control room. Make sure they don’t get caught up under Sandstorm’s foot.”

The Autobot paused and grimaced at the idea of the kids being crushed under someone’s foot. “Got it,” he responded, moving forward to look for the kids.

Hotlink turned his attention back to Straxus, who seemed immobilized and in shock. His hands were still clutching his helmet, and he kept muttering something to himself, with his gaze not really focused on anything, but rather darting all around to focus on something unseen. It would only be too much to hope that Redwing was having better luck.

[Perspective Change]

“This has been such a lovely date so far, hasn’t it~?” Hotlink’s other asked with a broad and cheerful smile.

It had been a great time. Sandstorm and the femme had been seeing the sights, performances, goods, and events that the festival had to offer.

“It really has!” Sandstorm answered enthusiastically. “I've been enjoying myself. How about you?”

“Today has been the best day I've had in ages, dear!” Shattered Glass Hotlink smiled at the conehead. “Thank you so very much~”

Sandstorm blushed in the way that seekers do. His engines hummed a bit louder and he began to fidget with his fingers. His wings were twitching as well, but they were so far down his legs that no one would have noticed. “You're welcome.”

Alternate Hotlink gave a light giggle at the sight of him flustered and reached out to hold his hand. “At the end of this, we should probably make our way back, hm?”

“What is THIS?!?” a familiar voice screeched from behind them. “HANDHOLDING!!! ARE YOU LEWD??”

Sandstorm nearly jumped out of his plating at the sound of the dreaded, shrill voice, whipping around and settling his optics on Redwing. “REDWING!” he yelled angrily, his optics narrowing onto his trinemate. “What the slag?!”

His date had jolted slightly upon hearing Redwing and turned to look at him with surprise. “You're ba—” Her optics widened as she saw the state of him. “Cybertron below me, what happened to you?? You need medical attention!”

Redwing chuckled. “Aw. Aren't you…” He paused to both think of the word he was looking for as his gaze shifted from pleasant to menacing, all while keeping his smirk. “…sweet.”

“Look, if you want to ruin my day, do it another time,” Sandstorm huffed insistently. “Me and Hotlink ar—”

“Hush, Sandstorm,” the eccentric interrupted, not taking his optics off of Shattered Glass Hotlink. “The adults are talking.”

The femme was taken aback, giving Redwing a confuddled look. “I'm afraid I don't understand where this sudden aggression is coming from,” she defended innocently. “How much energon have you lost? You really should seek first-aid.”

“Where do you think I came from?” Redwing inquired. “Right before now. Take any wild guess.”

“Erm… One would assume my Cybertron, if you actually managed to find a way to get there,” she answered slowly.

“That's actually a really good guess! But there's one specific spot on your Cybertron I want to address. Specifically to you.”

“Redwing,” Sandstorm said with a warning tone, getting rather impatient. “Get to the point.”

“Nah,” Redwing grinned. “I want her to realize what’s happening.”

“Look,” Alternate Hotlink defended, raising her hand and waving it in frustration. “I don't understand what you possibly hope to achieve with this act.”

Redwing cackled. “Okay then. If you want to understand what's happening, then listen closely. I came from a training facility. Run by one, black and teal, lead assassin and infiltrator, and trainer of all other assassins and infiltrators, the Autobot Moonracer. One said assassin had a collection of records of all assassins and infiltrators, which is really counter-productive when it comes to secrecy.”

“Counter-productive, yes, but helpful for the Decepticon cause!” The femme’s optics widened ever-so-slightly for a second as something occurred to her, but quickly went back to normal. “Did you get a copy?”

“Why? It wouldn't do anyone any good anymore. Everyone at the facility is dead. Hence,” Redwing spread his arms out to display how much of a mess he was in, “the energon, loose parts, scrapes, and wounds. There's only, like, two or three infiltrators and/or assassins left.” He narrowed his optics even further. “Would you like to guess where they are?” he asked, his voice going cold.

“Quite frankly, I have no idea in the slightest, nor am I keen to throw around baseless guesses,” she deflected.

“Oh, but I am. Because, before I burnt all your colleagues to the ground, I made a visit to Vector Sigma. Or Omega Terminus, as your universe called it. And I got some important information from it. And the information is as thus: One assassin, Elita One, ran away with the rogue Hot Rod to your Earth. Another met… a fortunate accident, involving a bard and a naive young romantic, and became a very ideal agent to most situations.”

“Sounds to me like that group needs to be found before that agent can cause serious trouble,” the alternate suggested with a low tone.

Redwing’s smile grew much bigger as his optics continued to shoot daggers into her.

“Wait,” Sandstorm spoke up, thinking about what Redwing said for a second. "’Your colleagues’?" His optics shot to his trinemate. “Redwing, do you mean…” His gaze then shifted over to alternate Hotlink, letting go of her hand and slowly backing away.

Shattered Glass Hotlink just stood there, not seeming to notice that Sandstorm had released his grip on her hand. The facade on her faceplate faded away as her expression turned neutral. “So… you're not at stupid as you act,” she said, her voice also going cold. “Tsk…”

“Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm very old and stupid,” the red seeker informed. “We're doing this in public and I don't have my cat with me. Well, yet. That means taking you to The Room is going to be difficult. Fun, but difficult all the same.”

“I… I don’t…” Sandstorm looked his former date over with a betrayed expression on his face. “Why?”

“It's nothing personal, Sandstorm. But I've got a war to win,” she replied without a shred of remorse. She then turned her attention back to Redwing and began to give him her own threatening look. “So. What is your next move, then?”

“You run away like a bitch, and then I kick you in the boob,” Redwing answered matter-of-factly.

“Now why would I run when I'm perfectly safe here?” Hotlink’s alternate scoffed, gesturing to the public event around her.

“I just said. I'm old and stupid.” Without warning, Redwing surged forward, boosted as he activated his thrusters to give him more speed. With this alarming speed, he was almost on top of his target, one of his fists raised, aiming to punch her in the face.

Shattered Glass Hotlink was ready. She saw the attack coming and ducked to the side throwing a kick of her own at him and giving herself enough momentum to hop into the air before twirling into motorcyle mode, landing on the road, and taking off as fast as she could through the crowd.

The kick only hit Redwing in the shoulder, allowing him to perform a spin as he slowed down and watch as the infiltrator sped away. He chuckled to himself and pulled out a cube. “And for my next trick…” A portal opened up on the ground, and Redwing jumped in feet first.

Shattered Glass Hotlink was moving too fast to see the other end of the portal opening up parallel to her path until it was too late to swerve out of the way. At which point, the next thing she knew, she was hit hard from the front, and was sent spiraling out of control. In her attempts to regain control, she forced herself to convert back into her robot mode, and scraped at the ground with her fingers in an attempt to regain control while she tumbled. Once she had gotten to her feet again, she whipped out a blaster and took aim at where Redwing had come from.

But the eccentric was gone. Her optics scanning the place where she was hit and then desperately searching for her attacker, she jolted when another portal opened in front of her and a speeding pair of feet emerged out of it.

“Kick in the BOOB!” Redwing yelled as he shot out of the portal.

The kick hit its mark. Shattered Glass Hotlink was hit square on her breastplate, which sent her crashing into a building behind. After peeling herself from the wall, she staggered and grunted as she got her balance back and glared at Redwing, who was standing a few feet away from her.

“How immature are you?!” she demanded with utter frustration.

“Oh come on,” Redwing smirked as he placed his hands on his hips and opened up his chest to reveal missiles primed and ready underneath, “Do you have to ask?”

“I'm transmitting an SOS to my team,” the femme declared, taking aim at him with her blaster. “You're in for it when they get here.”

Redwing giggled a bit and smiled at his opponent. “Oh, come on, it's not like they can arrest me for public indecency~”

The sound of a rapidly approaching jet engine cut both of them off, and from out of nowhere, Sandstorm appeared in his jet mode and rammed into Shattered Glass Hotlink, causing her to yelp and get tossed into the air. The momentum was enough to have her tumble across the ground again once she landed, skidding a good distance before she came to a stop.

Shattered Glass Hotlink struggled to get up for a moment. Once she got to her hands and knees, she glanced back at her frame to examine her condition. She didn’t like how her plating and wheels looked. They were crooked and bent from their original shape, making it impossible for her to transform again. With a grimace, she glanced upwards tat Sandstorm, who had transformed and was now making his way towards her. She gritted her teeth and threw a look around for her blaster, finding it too far away for her to reach in a reasonable amount of time.

“Why did you have to get involved?!” she demanded. “You just had to make your Autobot give me the information I needed and we would have been on our way!”

“I'm sorry,” Redwing answered, joining his trinemate and staring down at the imposter. “But we stopped playing fair when you decided to mess with a bard. That's a big no-no in my book.”

“And you lied to us,” Sandstorm added with a hurt glower.

“Ah… Yes…” Redwing realized as an afterthought. “That too, I guess.”

The alternate Hotlink glanced between the two, and inhaled sharply as she pulled a small knife from her arm and pressed the blade of it against her neck, gaining a wild look in her optics. “I'm not going with you,” she growled threateningly. “If I get nothing, you get nothing.”

Redwing blinked at the scene. “A-Are you serious? You can't be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m playing around?!” she emphasized, hoping that this would get her somewhere.

“Fair,” Redwing acknowledged. “But you're also using that old time technique of trying to buy yourself time. Also, if you cut yourself, I'm just going to laugh in your stupid face, because then I win, again. And then Sandstorm is next.”

“Wait, ME?!?” the conehead gawked, whipping his head around to fix him with an appalled expression.

“Not you. Other Sandstorm,” Redwing corrected, glancing over at his trinemate. “The wannabe Sandstorm. The one that thinks he's all that. These and other describing factors.”

The femme glanced between Sandstorm and Redwing, realizing that her act wasn’t going to work. As the two were talking, she slowly got a foothold on the ground, stayed low, and took a couple small steps backwards in a subtle attempt to get away.

“Actually, that brings up the question. What is up with your Sandstorm?” Redwing asked, refocusing on alternate Hotlink. “Why does he look like a mix and match of parts? Does he even transform?”

“Of course he does!” she snapped, stopping in her tracks. “I made sure to—” She realized what she was saying too late and cut herself off, gritting her teeth as she mentally scrambled to decide her next course of action.

Sandstorm squinted his optics at her. “Okay, even I have to admit, that was pretty suspicious what you just did there.”

“Okay, I'm getting bored,” Redwing declared, walking towards Shattered Glass Hotlink.

The femme shivered and tightened her grip on the knife. She clenched her teeth even harder, trying desperately to psych herself up to push the blade in.

Redwing clearly saw what she was doing. He paused and let out an audible sigh, rolling his optics at her. “Look, if you want to kill yourself, I can ease that pain and have someone else do it for you.”

In truth, she absolutely did not. But either way her life was over. If not by them or her, then by… Her knife slipped from her grip and dropped to the ground, and she followed suit, collapsing to her knees, and bringing her hands up to grip the sides of her head. She released a small breath of panic and closed her optics as fluid began to leak out of them.

“Ah,” Redwing let out, watching the scene play out before him.

“Redwing,” Sandstorm spoke up, feeling a bit of remorse. “Should we… stop? Or something?”

“NO!” Redwing suddenly bellowed, both out-of-character and with his tone and voice slightly different. “NOT AFTER EVERYTHING SHE'S DONE! I DESERVE ANSWERS!” It was after this sudden and bizarre outburst that he changed his demeanor again, raising his hands soothingly to calm some unseen person. “Okay, relax, calm down, I got this.” He turned back to the femme and knelt down in front of her to peer into her optics. “Are you going to make this any more ridiculous? Or pathetic?”

The infiltrator didn’t bother to move or answer. If anything, it seemed like she was completely checked out from what was going on around her, not paying anything Redwing asked or did any mind.

“I see,” Redwing realized. He got back up to his full height and casually strode behind her. He produced what looked to be a collar, though it seemed much more technological than an ordinary one. Once it was out, he placed it around Shattered Glass Hotlink’s neck and flipped a switch on it. “Alright. Get up,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, the femme got to her feet. And by the look on her face, it didn’t seem like it was of her own volition. Her optics went wide as she suddenly began to move, and glanced around as she tried her best to resist the new control collar adorning her neck.

Sandstorm grimaced as he watched what Redwing did. “Isn't this… an ethical dilemma?” he posed tentatively to his trinemate.

“Sandstorm, this is a collar that was used to subdue violent criminals back in the day,” Redwing informed. “So no, it is not an ethical dilemma. She can still talk and use her face, but she doesn’t have the mental capacity to override her motion control.” He turned back to his captive and pulled out his teleportation cube. “In we go!” he declared once the portal was fully open.

The captive obeyed again, stepping forward into the swirling energy and disappearing. Redwing watched as the captive walked in, and when she was through, he motioned for Sandstorm to enter. The conehead hesitantly obeyed, and was shortly followed by Redwing himself, who closed the portal behind them.

[Perspective Change]

Hot Rod found the kids and got them situated in a different room before he went back to Hotlink to move Straxus so the purple seeker could keep a better optic on him, then Hot Rod returned to tend to the children and keep them company. Fortunately, Straxus wasn’t in any mood to resist or make any trouble while they moved him, which was refreshing, to say the least.

The sound of another portal opening caught Hotlink and Straxus’ attention. They turned to see it open just outside the room and tensed when they saw alternate Hotlink walk through, looking very beat up and wearing some sort of weird collar. She was followed by Sandstorm, who looked shaken, but physically unharmed. Redwing ended the trail, still looking as scuffed and dirty as when he'd left minutes ago.

“WE CAUGHT ONE OF THE BAD GUYS!” Redwing shouted victoriously as he closed the portal behind him.

“NO!” Straxus yelled, jumping to his feet. “LET HER GO!”

Hotlink was having none of Straxus’ nonsense. In one swift move, he shoved the former commander back down to the ground. “Sit. Down,” he snarled warningly.

“No…” Straxus uttered with a pleading and desperate tone, though his optics clearly didn’t have any heart to back up those words. “She must live…”

“Primus…” Sandstorm gasped with widened optics, glancing around at the broken entryway and mess on the floor. “What happened here?”

“You and I missed Straxus and other Sandstorm ransacking our ship, Sandstorm,” the engineer answered, turning his head slightly to address him but not take his optics off Straxus. “If you want a recall of the events, I recommend talking with Hot Rod. He's in my workroom with the kids.”

“Well, that depends on…” As the portal closed, Redwing turned to go to his closet, only to just now notice the door had been torn off its hinges. “WHO THE SLAG BROKE INTO MY CLOSET?!” he shrieked.

“You didn't question that before?!” Hotlink asked with exasperation.

“I had other priorities,” Redwing reasoned with a shrug. “What did you expect?”

“I expect you to know where to find Hot Rod if you have questions!” Hotlink barked, glaring at the annoying trinemate. “I'm not in the mood today!”

“Nah. I got other things to do,” Redwing waved dismissively as he walked over to the closet doorway and began to work with the door, trying to get it upright and into a semi-decent position. “Hotlink,” he spoke up while getting the door in place. “Get in here, and wait in the corner. Not you, Hotlink, the traitor Hotlink.”

The femme walked past Redwing and into the closet as he worked with the door to make sure it stayed in place. Once she was in, she waited in place for the captor to be done.

“Wait, what are you doing with her?” Sandstorm probed with some concern.

Redwing stared at Sandstorm for a moment, but remained silent. Slowly, he closed the door, still keeping his optics solidly on Sandstorm until it was fully closed.

“Nothing half as bad as what they were going to do to us, I'm sure,” Hotlink guessed with a grim tone, answering in place for what should have been an answer from Redwing. He let out a sigh. “Go be with your daughter, Sandstorm. She must be worried about you.”

Sandstorm nodded and turned to leave the room to go find his daughter. Though he paused when Redwing spoke up from the other side of the closet door.

“Please don't tap the door,” the eccentric requested, peering an optic through a hole where one of the door latches were. “This seems precarious.”

“I'll make sure lover-mech here doesn't touch it,” Hotlink assured, squinting at Straxus, who was still on the ground, his head back in his hands as he stared blankly at the floor.

“Please… I beg you…” Straxus whimpered, though it wasn’t clear if he was directing the plea at anyone in particular.

Sandstorm continued when he thought the conversation was over. He went down the hall and opened the door to Hotlink's workroom, and felt a rush of relief when he saw Hot Rod, Hotlink’s twins, and Alexis all safe and enjoying a game that the Autobot had set up on one of the tables.

Hot Rod himself swiftly reacted when he heard the door opened. He'd gotten to his feet and clenched his fists, but when he saw it was just Sandstorm, the defensive posture dissipated, and the Autobot relaxed. “Thank Primus it's you…” he sighed with relief.

“Daddy!” Alexis exclaimed as she rushed to the edge of the table. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

Sandstorm smiled as he walked over to his daughter and knelt down to examine her at optic level. “I'm fine, sweetheart. Are you hurt?” he checked.

“I'm fine,” the little girl answered with a shake of her head. She then glanced over to the beat up Autobot. “But Hot Rod's hurt.”

“It's just a few dents and scrapes, kiddo, I'll live,” Hot Rod reassured.

“Your arms are all awkward when you move them!” the ten-year-old pointed out.

“They're just a little dislocated,” the Autobot continued. “They'll pop back into place.”

“How badly did they treat you?” Sandstorm asked, taking in the smaller mech's damaged appearance with concern. “How did this happen?”

“Uh, well, shortly after—”

“Daddy, you can put his arms right while he talks, can't you?” Alexis asked abruptly.

“Huh?” Hot Rod blinked, stunned and a bit wary of the suggestion.

“Uhh…” Sandstorm let out. “I don't have the skill to do that…”

The little girl appeared disappointed. Clearly, she didn’t believe Hot Rod when he said it wasn’t a big deal. “Oh…”

The Autobot let out a relieved sigh and uttered, “Yeah, please don't touch them… Anyway, shortly after Hotlink left with the kids, Straxus and other Sandstorm broke in and it became this sort of Home Alone scenario—” He paused as he saw Sandstorm’s face shift to confusion at the analogy. “Oh shoot, you haven't seen that movie...”

“I saw it,” Alexis declared with a hint of pride. “It's the one with the kid making traps for the mean adults trying to get him.”

“Well, think that, but I didn't stand a chance because Straxus is a huge tank and I was stuck in a tiny ship with no time to prepare,” Hot Rod described. “He pinned me and kept jerking me around by my arms, whhhich were held behind my back. They, uh… kept implying we were going to have a 'fun time' back on their ship if I didn't tell them where the Matrix or Redwing's closet were.”

“Geez…” Sandstorm rasped with a sigh. “They split us up then beat the slag out of us? How can anything be that important?”

“The Matrix is super important. I know I was talking slag about it before, but that 'bauble' is the will of Primus and the knowledge and wisdom of generations of Primes,” Hot Rod informed seriously.

“Then you need to get it back!” Alexis declared.

“No,” the Autobot insisted firmly.

“Well, if it's super important, why do you treat it like it's the most awful thing in the universe?” Sandstorm pressed.

“Because it feels like a burden! Imagine—” Hot Rod paused to think for a moment. “Imagine the fear and uncertainty you have when you discover something new about Alexis. Like the sneezing. So imagine that, then multiply it by ten thousand. When I carry the Autobot Matrix of Leadership, I am expected to know what to do. I am expected to know how to bring the Autobots to victory and triumph over Galvatron's forces. I am expected to keep the peace between Cybertron and the planets we develop relationships with. I am expected to know and do all of these things because I... am a Prime.”

The Autobot paused as he gained an emotionally pained expression. “And I don't! I became Prime on accident! I don't know anything about what it takes to be a proper leader! That's why it was so darn important to try and be like Optimus! Because he knew… And if I could be like him, I thought I'd figure it out. But I didn't… And I can’t…”

“Wait, so, there was no election?” Sandstorm gasped as what the young Prime had been trying to tell him all this time finally clicked in his head. “No choice in the matter at all?”

“No!” the Autobot proclaimed loudly before he regained control of his tone. “I was just fighting Galvatron in a last ditch effort to get the Matrix back and when I got it back it… opened for me. And I became Rodimus on the spot. I-I kept telling myself that it wasn't supposed to be for me. Maybe the Matrix made a mistake.” His voice cracked as he added, “Then it felt like a sick joke… Punishment for getting Optimus killed…”

Alexis and Sandstorm just stood there, listening to the Autobot and feeling a twinge of pain in their cores. They fixed him with looks of compassion, finally understanding why Hot Rod had been so against taking the Matrix back.

“Oh… I… I'm sorry,” Sandstorm apologized. “I didn't know…”

“I’m not going to hold a grudge against you for something you didn’t know. It’s not like I’ve told anyone this before. But… now you do.” Hot Rod let out sigh and glanced between the two of them. “When I do take back the Matrix, I’m going to struggle. If you could… help me in any way you can… I would greatly appreciate it. Primus-knows I suck at doing this on my own…”

“Well, I'll do my best. Maybe that's why you're with us?” the conehead posed.

Hot Rod blinked, surprised by the suggestion.

“Yeah!” Alexis chimed in. “Now you don't have to worry about doing it alone! We're family! That's what you keep saying, right? And family helps each other!”

Hot Rod breathed an assured laugh. “Right. Thanks, guys.” He gave the two of them a warm smile, but then he noticed one of the twins getting into something that Hotlink had left on the floor. His tool chest. The young Prime knew they shouldn't be going through there and he hurriedly took a few steps to pull them away from the container, wincing as he made the movement, the pain in his arms shooting through them. “Naughty,” he told the child as he worked through the pain. “We don't touch dad's stuff. It's not for younglings.”

“So where did other Sandstorm go?” Alexis inquired, getting back to the previous subject. “Was he caught, too?”

“Ah, yeah,” the Autobot acknowledged as he turned to Sandstorm and offered the twin he'd picked up. “Did he show up where you were? He just took off and Hotlink told me not to chase him.”

“No, he didn’t show up at all,” the conehead answered, taking the twin into his arms. “Well, at least it's one less problem to worry about right now.”

“Not in my personal experience,” Hot Rod warned, turning to pick up the other twin. “That's why I'm not speeding to get the Matrix back. It's genuinely safer wherever Redwing put it than with me.”

“So, what do we want to do about my alternate?” Sandstorm posed quizzically.

“Separating is what got us in this mess. We’ll stay together and get our bearings before we figure out what to do about him,” the Autobot reasoned. “We still don’t know what we’re going to do about Straxus.”

“Has he done anything since he was defeated?”

“Last I saw, he's been keeping to himself. Hotlink isn't tolerating anything else. You should have seen him earlier! Did you know Hotlink’s got a good aim? He shot the gun from your alternate’s hand from down the hall!”

Sandstorm chuckled at the mental image being described to him. “I'll be sure to ask him about it.”

[A Little Later]

After catching up, everyone had gathered to the room where Hotlink and Straxus were. It was clear at this point that the former commander wasn’t going to do anything, and probably wasn’t going to be a threat. And even if he was, Hot Rod, Sandstorm, and Hotlink would probably be too much for the mentally unstable tank to handle. They were all talking about recent events until the closet door opened and a pristine Redwing stepped out.

“I'm baaaaack!” the red seeker announced. “Did I miss anything?”

“Oh no… He's back…” Sandstorm muttered unenthusiastically.

“Oh come on, that's not a bad thing,” Hot Rod encouraged.

Hotlink turned to look at his older trinemate. “Just some unhinged mutterings. Nothing special.”

“W…Wow, that was… fast…” the Autobot said slowly as he realized that the red seeker was suddenly all better.

“What?” Redwing asked, glancing all over his body. “Is it my body? Am I not allowed to change?”

“You’re suddenly fine. With no injuries or anything,” the smaller bot pointed out.

“I have spare armor,” Redwing shrugged. “It's not that strange.”

Hotlink frowned. “Hot Rod, I thought you knew about the spare armor.”

“Uh, no?”

“I didn’t know either,” Alexis spoke up.

“I think we're just surprised that you did it so quickly,” Sandstorm offered.

“Wow. You all are slow changers if you think I am fast. But that's besides the point.” Redwing glanced between each of his team members, looking at the new dents and scratches on their armor, before taking in the sight of the debris in the nearby hall. “Man. You all made a mess when I left.”

“He did it,” Hot Rod declared childishly, nodding at Straxus. “He kept harassing me, Redwing. It was very mean.”

“Speaking of that event…” Hotlink took Heatstroke from Hot Rod and held him out to Redwing.

Redwing was clearly not expecting to be handed the child. “W-What? To me?” he stammered, taking the twin into his arms and giving confused glances between the father and the newborn placed in his arms.

Hotlink ignored the question, and instead went back over to Hot Rod and placed his hands around the Autobot’s obviously dislocated shoulders.

Hot Rod looked at the grip and then to Hotlink. “What—” He was cut off before he could finish his first word, as Hotlink swiftly shoved one dislocated arm back into its socket with a pop and followed up with the other before the Autobot could flinch. “OW!!” he cried out.

“Are you making it worse??” Alexis gasped as she watched Hotlink work his magic.

“No, I fixed it,” the purple seeker answered brusquely, giving the Autobot’s chest piece a light smack before turning away from him. “You're fine, quit screaming. The pain was temporary.”

Hot Rod pouted slightly and rubbed his relocated joints as he let out a softer, “Ow…”

“Kinky,” Redwing commented.

Sandstorm’s optics glanced around the room until they landed on Straxus, who hadn’t moved in quite a while, and had now resuming muttering to himself. “So, what are we doing with sour face here?” the conehead asked as leaned down to get a better look at the prisoner.

“Well, we can't keep him,” Hotlink declared decisively.

“Redwing, you said earlier that he wasn't himself. Is there something in that magic room of yours that can fix him?” Hot Rod asked.

“Uhhhhh, fix?” Redwing pursed his lips as he stared blankly at the Autobot.

“I'm going to take that as a 'no',” Sandstorm sighed.

“Well, there probably is something in my magic room…” Redwing admitted, though his face still looked as blank as before. “I just don't know what it is.”

“Then I guess we hold on to him until you figure out what that is.” Hot Rod sighed at his decision. “It's not like we have a whole lot of options here.”

“But that's one more person taking from our energon supply,” Hotlink objected.

“Wait,” Redwing interrupted, his face going back to his usual smile when he got an idea. “Why not put him back on the ship he came in? You know, the one still parked next door?” he suggested.

“Oh yeah, that ship,” Sandstorm remembered. “The medical transport. From that… mental asylum…” His expression clearly displayed what he was thinking. It was a good idea, at first, but their last visit there was still fresh in the conehead’s mind.

“Hmmm…” Redwing hummed, as he looked Straxus over. “I'm sure they wouldn't mind another inmate… maybe,” he reasoned.

“Sounds good to me. It should have an autopilot and everything,” Hotlink added.

Everyone turned to face Hot Rod, who had his arms folded as he peered down at Straxus, contemplating the suggestion and trying to figure out what to do with him. He let out another sigh when he reached his decision. “…Screw it. They'll take better care of him than we will. And I'm sure he's got enough supplies on the ship to tide him over. So then that begs the question. What about our escape artist, other Sandstorm?”

“Leave him,” Redwing answered simply. “He can't do us much harm.”

“Okay, do you think that or do you know that?” Sandstorm probed, eyeing the red seeker.

Redwing met that gaze with another blank expression, clearly trying to find the words he was looking for to redirect the conversation. “…Have you ever heard of the song, 'Row Row Row Your Boat'?” he suddenly asked.

“That has nothing to do with this conversation,” the conehead responded coldly.

Alexis, however, perked up at the question. She was excited as Redwing brought up something she knew, and began to sing the song.

Everyone watched as she sang, and after the first couple verses, Hot Rod turned back to Redwing.

“What's the tie-in to it, Redwing?” he asked.

It turned out to be a pointless question. Redwing had joined Alexis in the singing, causing the two to duet the song until one or both of them became tired of it. Sandstorm had seen this coming and gave him a sharp glare as the red seeker sang.

Hotlink shook his head, both in disappointment that Redwing would pull such a stunt, and not at all surprised that he did it at all. Without waiting for the song to be over, the purple seeker strode over to Straxus and leaned in to pull the tank up by the arm. “On your feet,” he ordered. “You’re going.”

Straxus didn’t even bother to protest. He rose up as he was guided, still muttering something that couldn’t be heard over the singing. It was only after he was fully on his feet when Alexis and Redwing stopped singing.

“I'll follow,” Redwing announced as soon as he was done. “I want to see him sent off properly. Never good to have a crazy bard running around.”

“Alright. Just don’t set Heatstroke down inside,” Hotlink instructed.

“Of course I wouldn't.” Redwing assured, cradling Heatstroke in his arms as he began to follow Hotlink out of the room.

As an afterthought, Hotlink turned to the group as he was about to leave with Straxus and Redwing. “Sandstorm, don’t let Heartburn eat anything,” he added before he left.

“Guess I’m clean up crew…” Hot Rod sighed and wandered out of the room to find the cleaning supplies.

“Don't worry, Hot Rod. I'll help you,” Sandstorm assured, going after him.

“I’ll help, too!” Alexis chimed in, chasing after the two of them.

Hotlink and Redwing left the group, with Redwing carrying Heatstroke, and Hotlink escorting Straxus with gentle nudges with the muzzle of his blaster. The group made it to the medical frigate without much of a fuss, and before long, Hotlink had the compliant prisoner strapped into one of the chairs, and was beginning to program the autopilot to return back to the insane asylum.

Redwing was keeping the newborn occupied, making cooing sounds at the infant, though, no one could tell if the minicon was paying any attention to the seeker who held him. The newborn’s optics kept darting throughout the room, would occasionally refocus on Redwing, and then go back to flying around the room.

This continued until Straxus finally said something audible.

“Darkest eyes…”

Redwing paused, glancing at the former commander. “Hm?”

“Through dark and god-like eyes, are my hopes and dreams seen. Through power and greed, can my desires redeem. And through foolery and strife, the true opponent remains unseen.”

The red seeker blinked as the poem seemed to end. “…That's nice,” he commented before going back to cooing at Heatstroke.

“Is this doom and gloom all you have to say?” Hotlink asked, glancing over his shoulder to eye the commander.

“On hero’s wings, shall the sky and oceans fall,” Straxus continued. “Through lightning strike and god-like light, shall the storm of sand recall. And when tyrant’s eyes shall gaze upon, that broken father dear, shall the Undead Lord now and forever revere.”

“Wait, what?” Redwing asked, his attention now on the commander as the second half of the poem finished.

Hotlink froze as the words ‘Undead Lord’ hung in the air. Slowly, he turned from the console to both get a better look at Straxus, and to see if there was any hint of a trick being pulled. From the expression on Straxus’ face, it wasn’t. “Redwing, tell me this is just mad ramblings and I can ignore him…” the engineer uttered softly, throwing a glance at his trinemate.

“I… do not know…” Redwing replied, slowly backing up to get him and the child in his hands closer to the exit. “I say we let him on his way.”

“Through dark and god-like eyes, are my hopes and dreams seen. Through power and greed, can my desires redeem. And through foolery and strife, The true opponent remains unseen,” Straxus repeated. “On hero’s wings, shall the sky and oceans fall. Through lightning strike and god-like light, shall the storm of sand recall. And when tyrant’s eyes shall gaze upon, that broken father dear, shall the Undead Lord now and forever revere.”

“Yeah…” Hotlink agreed with a hint of nervousness, turning back around to the controls and beginning to rapidly set everything up so that they can get this newfound craziness away from them. Once he was done, Hotlink briskly moved away from the controls and toward the exit. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, bolting past Redwing.

“See ya, ya now-crazy bard,” Redwing bade as he began to follow his trinemate. “You'll be in good company once you have… well, company.”

Straxus didn’t seem to hear the farewell. Instead, he began to repeat the poem for the third time.

“Good answer,” Redwing responded as the poem began again. Without waiting for the poem to end, he left the room to go after Hotlink. By the time Redwing had caught up to Hotlink, the purple seeker was already outside, shuddering a bit as if he was trying to shake off something nasty on his body.

“Wish I could erase what he just said from my drive…” the engineer murmured as Redwing approached.

“Eh… That would be nice,” Redwing acknowledged. “But you have to understand, he is, er, was a bard. He might just be saying random words for some random reason. Add a pinch of crazy and— Well, you saw what he became.”

“Somehow I don't believe that, but I do hope you're right this time.”

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

Redwing and Hotlink both watched the ship as it began to close itself up and take off. Bits of sticks and dirt and rock were flung out from underneath the engines as they fired up. Redwing turned slightly to protect the child in his arms from the debris. Soon, the ship was off in the air, and making its way up into the sky.

“And there he goes,” Redwing said with a smile. “Gone. Like an angel’s kiss.”

“More like some badly processed oil…” Hotlink corrected. “Blegh…” He turned and took the infant from Redwing’s hands before he made his way back onto the Autobot ship.

“Eh, to each their own,” the red seeker shrugged. He continued to watch the ship as it sped up its accent through the sky, his optics trailing the vapor trails from the engines as it went up and up and moved to disappear beyond the clouds.

Unfortunately, the ship didn’t make it past the clouds. Without warning, the vapor trail jostled violently, as if colliding with something in the sky, knocking it off its course and sending it back down to the ground. As if that wasn’t bad enough, laser fire from an invisible source finished the job, causing the flying ship to explode brilliantly before it even hit the ground.

“Wait wait wait, what the slag?” Redwing gaped, his optics darting through the sky, trying to track what just happened and find where the attack came from. His question was quickly answered, as a new, much larger vessel began to slowly reveal itself and continued to descend, letting its shadow fall over Redwing and everything around him.

Redwing’s wings drooped and his optics widened as he identified what was now coming towards them. “Oh…” he whispered with a whimper. “That’s not the ship I want to see today…”

Chapter Text

Hotlink had already made it onto the ship before he heard the explosion from outside, and he had made it halfway down the hall when Redwing rushed past.

“WE GOT A PROBLEM!” he shouted as he ran by.

Hotlink grimaced and paused in his tracks as soon as he heard the frantic declaration. “Dammit…” he uttered under his breath, pulling Heatstroke closer to him as he took off after Redwing.

Hot Rod had heard Redwing as he was cleaning up the control room and straightened up just in time for the red seeker to burst into the room and begin working on the controls.

“What's going on?!” the Autobot pressed as he joined the seeker at the controls.

“What did you do now?!” Sandstorm demanded.

“Nothing,” Redwing answered, turning to glance at the door just in time for Hotlink to enter the room as well. “Hotlink, get your kids strapped down or something. Sandstorm, you too.”

The light from outside the main viewport dimmed much faster than it should have for the time of day it was, a large shadow seeping over everything in view outside. Beeps and alarms began to sound as whatever was above them began to materialize. It was enough to get Hotlink and Hot Rod to move faster. Hotlink grabbed his other child from Sandstorm and scurried to fasten them down into one of the nearby chairs, whereas Hot Rod began to help Redwing work at the console.

“Daddy,” Alexis whimpered, “Redwing's scared… Is it… Galvatron…? Did he find us…?”

“I don't know,” Sandstorm answered softly as he leaned down toward her, doing his best to be as soothing as possible under the current situation. “But I won't let him get you.” He then picked up his child and moved to get her secure in a chair.

“Who. The frag. Locked. The controls?!” Redwing shouted as he slammed his hands into the console.

“I'm sorry,” Hot Rod snapped as he got them unlocked. “I didn't want the bloody intruders having their way with the ship!”

“Well, it's kinda hard to run when—” Redwing paused mid-sentence when he noticed something out of the corner of his optic. He turned his head to focus on what caught his attention, which happened to be right at Sandstorm. “Oh no… Brace yourself, Sandstorm,” he warned.

Sandstorm blinked. “Huh?” Then, what caught Redwing’s attention caught his. A swirling blue, pink, and white energy began to envelop his entire body. His gaze shot back up at everyone else, only to see that Redwing, Hot Rod, and Hotlink were all being enveloped in the same energy. “Oh…” he let out, a cold wave washing down his spinal strut. As quickly as he could, Sandstorm moved his hand to a nearby console before he suddenly disappeared into thin air, leaving Alexis to fall upon the console.

Fortunately, the fall was only about a foot for the little girl. Alexis recovered quickly and got back to her feet just in time to see Hotlink secure his children, and then vanish as well, followed quickly by Hot Rod.

“Alexis, get to the lib—” Redwing swiftly began, but vanished just like the others before he could finish his instructions.

Alexis gasped and teared up with fear as each of the transformers vanished from her sight. “D-Dad—” she cried out, her heart racing as her mind was racing with questions. Where did they go?! Who did that?! Where was she supposed to go?! Lib…?!

Library! Redwing’s library in the closet!

Hurriedly, Alexis made her way off the console and scrambled to the chair where the twins were secured. She worked at their restraints for a second before they came loose, allowing her to tug the minicons’ arms in her attempt to get them to follow her.

“Come on, Heartburn! Heatstroke! We have to go!” she beckoned, holding back her tears as she tried to coax the twins into following her.

[Meanwhile]

The group became only slightly disoriented as they rematerialized in their new destination. Hot Rod and Hotlink both looked around wildly as soon as they were corporeal and able to process their surroundings, though, it didn’t take long for them to figure out where they were.

Hot Rod, Hotlink, Sandstorm, and Redwing had been pulled from their ship and into a teleportation room. A room that was significantly larger than their command deck, and filled with a team of soldiers all pointing blaster pistols and rifles at the new arrivals, all bearing purple Decepticon insignias.

“Hands up! Now!” one of the soldiers barked.

Sandstorm’s optics widened as he slowly raised his hands. “Redwing, what is this?” he uttered as quietly as he could.

“Give me a minute,” Redwing answered, his hands already high in the air and his knees close together. “I'm peeing myself.”

“Nice, Redwing…” Hotlink hissed through gritted teeth as he raised his hands, flicking his gaze from soldier to soldier to see if he recognized anyone.

Hot Rod also rose his hands as he, too, glanced between each of the soldiers.“Uh… I don't suppose we could just… talk this out…?” he tried, attempting to ease the tension a little.

The question went ignored by all the soldiers pointing guns at them. One of the soldiers in the back of the squad looked like he was of a higher rank than the others, and he stepped away from his team to use the communication systems.

“Command Duty Officer to bridge,” the commander announced loud enough for everyone to hear. “My Lord, we have them.”

Hotlink and Hot Rod shot glances between each other as the officer was receiving orders from the bridge. They then focused their attention back to the group when it was clear a decision was made.

“Understood, my Lord.” The officer switched off the comms and turned back to the group. “Get them in restraints,” he ordered. “They're going to the bridge.”

A few soldiers holstered their blasters and pulled out a pair of restraining cuffs as they moved behind the group, while the rest had their weapons trained on their targets.

“Oh, you all even look like you did from your original photo shoot— Ow,” Redwing commented right before his arms were twisted behind him and a pair of cuffs slapped on.

“Information would be great right now, Redwi— OW!” Sandstorm let out as he was jabbed in the back and his arms were twisted.

“Shut up,” the soldier growled as he put restraints on Sandstorm.

Hot Rod winced as his arms were twisted behind him for the second time that day and then cuffed. “I don't like the sound of 'my Lord'…” he murmured.

“It's sure not Galvatron…” Hotlink added right before he got jabbed in the back. He turned his head and gave the soldier behind him a sharp glare as the restraints were applied.

The higher ranking officer watched as the group was restrained. Once he was sure that they wouldn’t escape, he gave an order, and the squad began to usher their new captives out of the teleportation room and down the hall.

The halls indicated that the ship was an older variant of Decepticon engineering. Minimalist wall designs, basic wall and ceiling supports, all looking interchangeable with easy access to internal mechanisms. Something that could take a hit and get quickly repaired. The group passed by an engineer who was in the middle of a repair. As they moved by, he took a component out, replaced it with a new one, put the wall back in place, and went on to his next task.

The group also passed by several other teams of soldiers. On most of them, they bore a specialized purple Decepticon insignia. But every now and again, a purple Autobot insignia was seen plastered on their beings.

“Autobot logos?” Sandstorm mumbled as one of these bots passed. “Hot Rod, do you know these guys?”

“Nnnnot that I've ever been awake for…” the captive Autobot answered hesitantly.

“And what about the Decepticon insignias?” Sandstorm added. “I don't think I've seen these ones before.”

“Never seen these specific Decepticon insignias, either. This is all new and I've decided that I very much hate it.”

“Yeah.” The conehead glanced to his trinemates. “Redwing? Hotlink?”

“Just be quiet and don't test them…” Hotlink whispered stiffly. “Don't try to be a hero and we may stand a chance at living…”

“Comforting…” Hot Rod sighed.

“The DWS Arbalest,” Redwing spoke up.

“What?” Sandstorm asked, tilting his head to the side.

“This is the Decepticon War Ship Arbalest. It was made during the beginning of the Decepticon conquest, but it was lost in a sun for about a thousand years,” Redwing recalled. “The Decepticons eventually found them and got them out of the sun, but instead of getting the crew psychological help, High Command just put them back on the ship, so… recipe for success…”

“I'm going to keep the mean comment to myself…” Hot Rod grumbled.

“For the best…” Hotlink added.

“So, is Alexis safe on the ship then?” Sandstorm checked, concern creasing his facial features.

“I… hope so,” Redwing answered hesitantly.

“You aren't doing a good job of comforting us,” Sandstorm stated before receiving a hit with the blunt end of a rifle to the back of his head, causing him to stagger for a second before shooting a mean glare at the soldier that delivered it.

“My lower portions are still leaking. What do you want?” Redwing asked before receiving a hit of his own.

“I said SHUT UP!” a soldier barked.

“Well, now you're being rude,” the eccentric retorted before quickly releasing a deep intake. “…A whole ship of Galvatrons… Geez...”

“My worst nightmare…” Hot Rod let out under his breath. To prevent himself from chatting the group into trouble, he decided to bite his lower lip as the group continued down the hall.

[A Little Later]

The doors to the command bridge hissed open and the group strode in. The bridge itself was an impressive sight. It was a dual deck bridge with a large platform overseeing the command stations below. The command crew was on the deck below, scurrying about different monitors and display stations. And when the group arrived, everyone stood at attention, allowing the head officer ushering in the prisoners to put them at ease and let them continue their work.

Sandstorm let out a whistle as he took the scene in.

“Yyyyep,” Hot Rod nodded, taking his own glance around. “This is what a ship meant to carry an armada looks like. Puts our dinky little blockade runner to shame.”

The head officer turned and motioned to the guards, who pushed and shoved the group into the center of the upper platform.

“On your knees,” the officer commanded. “Nothing funny.”

Redwing and Hotlink obeyed the order without waiting, though Sandstorm and Hot Rod both took their time getting down to their knees, with Sandstorm eyeing the officer and Hot Rod taking a slow glance around the room for any clues or indications of what was going to happen.

Once he was sure that the group wouldn’t cause any trouble, the command officer began to rattle off commands and updates for different sections of the bridge. In turn, each section rattled off their reports with certainty and pride. Halfway through one of the reports, the sound of an opening door cut it off, and the command officer turned, practically snapping himself upright as he saluted.

“Commander on deck!” he shouted.

In unison, everyone stood at attention and saluted. From behind the group, the sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaching could be heard. Hot Rod could feel the optics of whoever was in command fall upon him and bore into his back.

“Command Duty Officer…” a commanding and strangely familiar voice spoke up. “Is this him?”

Both Hot Rod’s and Redwing’s head shot upwards as they heard the voice. It was a very familiar voice. Too familiar, but with a new hint of menace to it. Hot Rod was thinking it, but Redwing was the one to voice it.

“Wait a second, why does that voice sound… familiar yet different?” he asked.

“Yeah. That's him.” the officer confirmed. “He's the one in the reports that Lifeline and her pet sent.”

Hot Rod turned as a boot came into view. A very familiar shaped boot. Two tires on the side, with a darker blue hue. Hot Rod frowned at it for a second, then shifted his gaze upwards… and could almost feel his spark stop as he saw who it was. There, making his way in front of the group was the familiar build of a windowed chest, grill abs, exhaust shoulders, and colored in a purple-and-navy blue color scheme.

“S…Sandssstorm…” Hot Rod let out through his now cracking voice, trying to contain the sense of dread that just sucker punched him. “Remember how you asked me if I knew anyone…?”

“Yeah?” Sandstorm answered, glancing over at him.

“Meet Optimus Prime…”

Sandstorm’s optics widened as his gaze shifted from Hot Rod to the now red optics of Hot Rod’s predecessor. “Oh…” was the only thing that came out of the conehead’s mouth.

The group watched as the dark Optimus shifted his gaze to each of the new prisoners, looking down upon them in some methodical and menacing manner before he spoke.

“We have… Decepticon brethren… in chains?” he growled as he shot a glance over to the head officer.

“Well, they were with the Prime,” the head officer reasoned. “So—"

Without warning, this Optimus swung his arm around and struck the officer with the back of his hand, sending the officer flying across the command room and into a nearby railing.

“We do NOT imprison our own!” Optimus shouted to emphasize his point, growling as he turned towards the guards. “Release our Decepticon brethren,” he ordered.

It took a second, but one-by-one the guards undid the restraints on the individual seekers. Though it was clear that they were doing so begrudgingly.

Hotlink frowned as his bands were loosened and brought his hands around and up to soothe his wrists. “Wait, I… don't understand. Sir. Erm… May I ask something?”

“Please, you're getting ahead of yourself,” the dark Optimus tried to assure. Though, that was mostly offset from the underlying tone of menace in his voice. “First, I must ask who you are. You three are… guests, after all.”

“Ah, r-right. Apologies, sir.” Hotlink stood up and motioned to the rest of the group as his trinemates also got to their feet. “I'm Hotlink. And these are my trinemates Redwing and Sandstorm.”

“Ah, I see,” Optimus mused, glancing at the other two seekers.

“Uh-uh… I-I'm Starscream,” Redwing corrected weakly as the Optimus’ piercing red optics fell upon him.

Sandstorm sharply glared at Redwing with disapproval. Optimus, on the other hand, chuckled.

“Nervous, are we?” the dark Prime grinned. “Don't worry. It is a natural feeling for those on their first… crusade.”

“Crusade?” Sandstorm echoed.

“Indeed. You should be honored.”

“If… If I may be so bold as to make some inquiries now, sir?” Hotlink tried again.

“Please.”

“Erm… You are Optimus Prime, yes?”

“Indeed I am,” the purple-and-navy blue Optimus answered, swelling with pride. “I am the strongest Optimus Prime. Unlike yours, who is dead. And this punk…” He motioned a hand to Hot Rod. “...who pretended he could take over.”

The Autobot leader winced and lowered his gaze to the floor at the statement.

“Y…Yes… And that is where my mind fails to make connections,” Hotlink continued. “The Optimus Prime we know was the leader of the Autobots. Is this not the case with you?”

“I lead both Autobots and Decepticons. All are warriors for my holy crusade. The fool Galvatron was blind not to use his most willing soldiers to conquer that which is rightfully the strongest's. And in the end, WE will be the strongest.”

“Indeed… So then… Why release my trine, but not Hot Rod, sir?” Hotlink posed. “One would think he would make a decent addition to your crusade, no?”

“I understand the confusion. But understand this.” Optimus turned and glared down at the restrained Autobot. “Hot Rod has always been a traitor. And your Autobots are weak. I can afford neither to be among my army. And as fate would have it… your Hot Rod has something I need.”

Hot Rod refused to look up as he let out a nervous chuckle. “I couldn't possibly… You've got the wrong Autobot if you want anything useful…”

Without warning, the dark Optimus spun and, with a clenched fist, struck Hot Rod on the top of the head, sending the restrained Autobot down into the floor. “DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO!” Optimus bellowed with venom dripping from his voice.

“HEY!” Sandstorm snapped with a scowl, which somewhat dissolved when Optimus turned and narrowed his glowing red optics onto the conehead. The two stood there for several moments, each waiting to see who would back down first, when suddenly a voice spoke up from the lower deck.

“My Lord!”

“WHAT?!?” Optimus snapped, flipping around and glaring at the officer who interrupted his staring contest.

“W-We've picked up Lifeline's signal,” the lower officer informed shakily. “She's with that warm-wired helper of hers.”

“Ah, I see. So she did survive,” Optimus mused, calming down a bit. “Teleport them aboard, so I can congratulate her on her success.”

“Yes sir,” the officer acknowledged, turning back to his console to relay the orders back to the teleportation room.

“Oh…” Redwing uttered as soon as he realized who they were referring to.

Hot Rod slowly rose back up to his knees, letting out a wheezy groan as his head still spun from the punch that planted him into the ground.

Hotlink saw him coming back up and leaned down a little to make sure he was okay for the time being. He was, fortunately, but there wasn’t time for him to do anything more than look before Optimus turned back around to glare at Sandstorm again.

“You,” Optimus growled, his optics narrowing at the conehead. “You care about this Autobot?”

Sandstorm blinked as he remembered the position he was in. He opened his mouth to try and counter with something, but looking at Optimus made the young seeker let out a singular, “Uh…” as he tried to think of anything to get him out of trouble.

“Has he brainwashed you?” the dark Prime rumbled, sounding more and more menacing.

“Forgive him,” Redwing spoke up, jumping in from behind Sandstorm and holding the conehead’s shoulders. “He's young and naive. He's new off the assembly line and has been listening to nonsense from this Autobot for…” He glanced over to Hotlink. “What? A month now?”

“Redwing…” Sandstorm muttered under his breath as he glanced over his shoulder at the older seeker.

Hotlink cleared his throat and continued. “Yes, we, uh, made the mistake of having him take turns guarding the Autobot, failing to take his impressionable mind into account.” He turned to Sandstorm and gave him a firm and disapproving look. “Sandstorm, we've been over this. The Autobots have silver glossa. You can't believe their lies. Their 'friendship' is a front to get what they want,” he lightly reprimanded.

Whether or not the ploy was working wasn’t entirely clear. Optimus continued to glare at the group and growl softly, either trying to work out what was going on, or finally getting an idea how close these seekers were to Hot Rod.

“My Lord,” another officer interrupted from the lower deck. “We have Autobot battleships and a boarding ship inbound.”

“They must've found us when our cloak failed,” the chief officer surmised, turning to Optimus. “Your orders?”

Optimus didn’t wait, striding over to his commanding rail to oversee the lower deck and its crew. “What is the identification of the boarding ship?” he asked

The officer checked his console before looking back up at Optimus. “The landing ship Wingrazor.”

“How many ships in total?”

“Seven.”

“Perfect,” Optimus let out sinisterly.

Optimus and the command officer began to rattle off commands, with the rest of the crew following them promptly. With them distracted, Hotlink took the opportunity to lean in close to Sandstorm and whisper.

“Look, I get that you're worried for him. I am, too. But if they suspect us of being friends, then we're going to get it, too. We'll save him, I promise, but steel yourself and try to act sparkless.”

Sandstorm grumbled and glanced down to Hot Rod. He clearly didn’t like being told to leave Hot Rod to the mercy of this madman, but he grimaced even harder when he realized he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Fire all main guns,” the voice of Optimus echoed through the room, refocusing the seekers’ attention back to the present.

The crew scurried and echoed the command. Out the forward viewport, tiny orange and white dots were beginning to come into view, the colors alone easily identifying them as Autobot ships. Then, without warning, beams of purple lasers shot out from the Arbalest’s cannons, and hit the orange and white dots, causing each of them to explode, and fall out of the sky in what looked like small burning embers falling to the ground.

Pleased with this, Optimus turned to the chief officer. “Set off and get us phased out.”

“Ready, bear mark 45 and begin ascent,” the head officer ordered. “We'll phase out and cloak once we're clear of the atmosphere.”

Sandstorm optics widened as he realized what was happening. “WAIT! I have a daughter down there!” he protested.

This clearly caught Optimus by surprise, who paused mid-stride and turned to eye the conehead with curiosity and confusion. “A daughter? What nonsense is this?”

“During our travels we picked up younglings, sir,” Hotlink explained. “They are dependent on us. We formally request you give us time to collect them.”

Optimus squinted. “You two will live if we leave them.”

“But they won't!” Sandstorm declared.

Optimus rolled his optics and turned to stare into the lower deck. “Lieutenant Wingburst, I've heard you've yet to write a will.”

From the lower platform, a flight-frame poked his head up and glanced to Optimus. “I… I lost my family in the war, my Lord.”

Without waiting, Optimus then turned to one of the guards behind Hot Rod. “Lieutenant Motorlug. How have you been recently?”

“I… I feel lonely,” the guard admitted. “I lost my conjunx when we were trapped in the sun.”

“See?” Optimus pointed out, gesturing to his two examples. “These two fine young warriors are just fine without their loved ones.”

“I… don't think you're getting the point,” Redwing told him tentatively.

“Then let me share with you mine,” Optimus said coldly. He turned back to the lower deck and set his hands on the railing. “Set the main target to the ship below us,” he ordered.

“NO!” Sandstorm shouted, charging at the commander.

“Hold him,” Optimus waved with a hand.

The guards obeyed quickly, subduing Sandstorm and pinning his arms behind his back. Sandstorm squirmed and did what he could to get out of the binds, but found that he couldn’t break free of the guards’ grips on him.

Hot Rod struggled to his feet to try and help in some way, only to get roughly and painfully pinned to the floor by another guard.

“N-No no no! Sir, please!” Hotlink pleaded, taking a couple steps forward in a panic. “We rescind the request, just please let them live!”

A red blur wizzed past Hotlink and Sandstorm. A blur that quickly came into focus as Redwing jumped up and grappled onto Optimus’s head and slammed the Prime into the floor, the ensuing CLANG so loud for the whole command crew and guards stop paused their duties to watch the fight continue.

Optimus rose back up to his feet in anger, growling and glaring, but he couldn’t get a good glimpse of the red seeker as a few more punches and kicks began to toss the Prime around. It was a clearly one-sided battle as Optimus rose to his feet, taking hit after hit from Redwing and becoming increasingly staggered from the battle, until Optimus got a good look and nailed Redwing with a punch to the cockpit.

Redwing was flung backwards from the punch, but only for a second. Optimus followed up by grabbing Redwing’s head and slamming the seeker down into the ground. And from Redwing’s cockpit rolled out a couple vials of bright blue energy.

“FIRE THE GUNS AT THEIR SHIP!” Optimus bellowed, throwing a hostile glare at the chief officer.

Coming back to his senses, the chief officer nodded, and turned to give orders to the rest of the crew, who also snapped back into reality and resumed their duties.

It was Hotlink’s turn to try and stop the guns from firing. He bolted forwards in an attempt to jump over the railing and launch himself down onto the lower decks to try and disrupt those at the controls. But even though the attempt was made, Hotlink didn’t even make it over the railing before a couple shots from the guards' blasters caused him to stagger and slow down enough for another guard to grapple and restrain him.

“STOP!!” Hotlink pleaded loudly. “THEY'RE CHILDREN!!”

The main viewport flickered for a moment, and the grounded Autobot blockade runner came into view. It sat peacefully for a few seconds before a barrage of laser fire began to rain down onto the ship and tear it apart.

Sandstorm screamed for the entire barrage, hoping that, in some way, he would be able to stop the barrage from happening, or in some way cause it to stop. But the barrage didn’t stop just because Sandstorm screamed. It stopped when there was only a crater, littered with the smoldering debris of the Autobot ship.

Sandstorm stopped screaming when he saw the crater. He fell to his knees, his optics glued to the screen, and optical fluids beginning to pour down his cheeks.

“There. Let it all out,” Optimus soothed with a menacing purr, releasing his grip of Redwing and rising to his full height. “Let those feelings guide you. They will be your fuel for our crusade.”

Redwing sat up, shaking his head and glancing at Hotlink. “How many seconds did I buy?” he asked.

It took only one look at Hotlink for Redwing to know that he wouldn’t get an answer. Hotlink was also staring at the view screen displaying the smoldering wreck that was their ship. Lubricant was gushing out of the engineer’s optics and he was taking in ragged, sparkbroken breaths.

“YOU SICK SPAWN OF A—” Hot Rod snarled with a nasty glare before being slammed face down into the ground by the guard behind him.

“You were not given permission to speak to our Lord!” the guard hissed.

Redwing was the only one capable of sitting up and looking around to see what was going on around him at this point, and he quickly determined that what was happening was bad.

The first thing that was bad was the arrival of two familiar transformers. Shattered Glass Sandstorm, who looked to be mostly intact save a couple of dents in his armor, and Shattered Glass Lifeline, who was being carried in her Sandstorm’s arms, almost appearing lifeless as she didn’t even shift to look up at anyone.

The second bad thing was what the dark Optimus’ gaze had settled on. Redwing followed it, and almost froze when he saw two vials that were supposed to be snug in his cockpit. Redwing moved to get up and snatch them, but by the time he was on his feet, Optimus had already leaned down and gently picked the vials up off the ground.

Alternate Sandstorm snarled cruelly at the main-verse team before taking Lifeline and standing before Optimus. “Sir,” he announced, snapping his feet together smartly.

“This…” Optimus let out, holding the vials up to examine them and ignoring the soldier and infiltrator in front of him. “The key…”

“Uh oh…” Redwing whispered as he realized how fascinated the alternate Optimus was with the vials.

Shattered Glass Sandstorm frowned, both at the lack of attention he thought he was going to get and with the commander’s new fascination. “‘Key’, my Lord?”

“Yes,” Optimus hummed, taking one of the vials with a thumb and index finger holding it up to the light to marvel at the contents. “The key to the salvation of Cybertron.”

“You know, you say that and I don't like the implications you're making,” Redwing commented in an attempt to make some sort of distraction.

“How is a little jar the key to Cyberton's salvation?” Shattered Glass Sandstorm asked skeptically as he eyed the vial in the Prime’s fingers.

“These contain a fraction of the raw power of this universe’s Matrix of Leadership,” Optimus explained. “These will power our tools to prove our superiority. An acceleration to the plan. The universe shall be horrified by the number of lives we shall take. And once they, EVERYONE, sees, only then will they lay down their weapons, and treat us as what we are. Saviors.”

“Y…You're a monster…” Sandstorm shakily growled, a fire in his optics starting to build.

“History is shaped by monsters. I am proud to be one,” Optimus retorted snidely. He turned to the chief officer and handed him the Matrix vials. “Load these into the shells. They will give us the power to shatter worlds.”

The officer nodded, took the vials, and strode out of the room to follow Optimus’s orders.

“The sparklings…” Hotlink rasped weakly. The guard holding him let him loose when he decided that the engineer wasn’t a threat anymore. The grief that Hotlink felt overcame him, as he curled up and hid his face in his hands while he began to cry.

The sobs from Hotlink were ignored by Optimus, who turned back to the other crew members once the chief officer left. “How quickly until we reach subspace?” he asked.

“We're exiting the atmosphere now.”

“Good.”

The sound of a throat clearing caught Optimus’s attention, and he turned to finally get a good look at Shattered Glass Sandstorm and Lifeline.

“You wanted to see Lifeline, sir?” Alternate Sandstorm reminded.

“Ah, yes. The agent,” Optimus mused, reaching out a hand and grabbing the agent by the jaw, turning her head so he could look into her optics. “She did well, leading us to this… so-called Prime.”

Lifeline met his gaze, unflinching, but her optics seeming vacant and soulless. “…Thank you, my Lord…” she uttered wearily.

“Oh…” Redwing realized. “He turned her into that… Oh boy…”

Redwing’s comment was immediately picked up by Shattered Glass Sandstorm, who turned his head to shoot a nasty glare at the seeker. “What did you do to her?!” he snarled.

“She got—” Hot Rod began. Though again, when he tried to speak, his guard slapped a hand over his mouth and squeezed so that the Autobot couldn’t talk.

“Well, uh, see, uh, I didn't, uh…” Redwing stammered in an attempt to defend himself.

“It's your fault she's in this state, you kite!” the alternate Sandstorm pressed.

“Well… you don't have… proof of that…”

“Maybe not physical, but I know!”

Lifeline tucked her head back up against her mech, and turned her head to eye Redwing with an uncomfortably dead gaze.

“Don't look at me like that,” Redwing ordered the agent, trying to tear away from her gaze.

“My Lord, what are your orders for the Autobot's fate?” a guard asked, interrupting the interaction.

“Hold on,” Optimus waved, eyeing Redwing with sinister interest. “I want to see how this develops.”

“Or you'll do what?” Lifeline rasped at the red seeker with a low growl. “Put me in The Room again? Summon your cat?”

“Uh… To be clear, that cat shows up whenever he wants…” the red seeker clarified.

“Lifeline,” Optimus interrupted. "Clarify something for me. These… Decepticons… What is their relationship with the Autobot?”

Hotlink and Sandstorm snapped back to reality when Optimus posed his question. Both turned to look at the agent just in time to see her gaze shift from lifeless, to cold and merciless.

“They are allies,” Lifeline answered. “They betray their kind by harboring the Autobot and even going so far as to call him ‘kin’.”

The crew of the bridge began their show of disgust and disapproval of Lifeline’s sentence.

“Ah…” Optimus let out, his voice now going cold as well. “Now I understand.”

“Well, hold on here!” Redwing interrupted as he confidently approached Optimus. “Are you seriously going to take her word over our—” Redwing didn’t get to finish his sentence. As soon as he was within striking range, Optimus backhanded Redwing, sending the seeker across the room.

“Traitors to their kind,” Optimus declared. “Every one of them. Their lust for companionship makes them weak. Detain them. All of them.”

The guards immediately sprung to life at the order, with a couple guards moving to re-detain Hotlink, and a few more to get Redwing restrained once he landed. Those closest to the trine promptly dived on them and manhandled them back into restraints. Hot Rod grunted as he shifted in vain and tried to force his way out of the guard holding him so he could help his friends in some way.

“See to it that Lifeline gets some rest,” Optimus continued. “As for the traitors and the Autobot, help them get acquainted with their… new quarters.”

“Well, this all could have gone worse,” Redwing commented as he was forced to the bridge doors with everyone.

Hotlink’s teeth clenched as he was dragged behind Redwing. The grief of what just happened clearly affecting him to the point where he couldn’t reply to him just yet.

Hot Rod made an attempt to kick the legs out from under the guards that were holding him, though it didn’t do much to help, seeing as it more amused the guards, rather than disabled them from carrying the Autobot with the rest of the seekers.

As Sandstorm was being dragged away, he shot what was an attempt of a nasty glare at Optimus before shifting his gaze back to the image of craters where the ship, and more importantly, his daughter, were. His gaze shifted from anger to sorrow as he felt something similar to a spear being shoved through his spark while he was dragged out after his trine.

[A Little Later]

After descending deeper into the ship, the group eventually arrived at the ‘new quarters’ that Optimus had been talking about. It was a room of prisoner cells, each with its own recharge slab, and what seemed like little to no privacy.

“See, when he said 'new quarters', I at least expected some entertainment value,” Redwing commented. A guard responded by hitting the seeker’s face with the butt of a rifle.

One by one, everyone had their restraints removed and were shoved into their own cell. Once they were inside, a crimson energy shield flashed to life, seeming to prevent anyone from trying to escape. Hot Rod finally got a chance to breathe for once, and to stretch his now aching jaw, until he heard what was someone collapsing in their cell, and he rushed over to the shield to see who fell.

“Who was that?!” the Autobot asked hastily, “Guys, are you okay?!” He pressed his hands against the force field, only to hiss as pain surged through his digits. He looked back up and examined each of the cells that he could see. Somehow, he saw both Hotlink and Sandstorm in cells across from his, with both of them collapsed on the ground, clearly mourning the loss of their families.

“…Their lives were over before they even begun…” Hotlink croaked out.

“They're gone… She's gone…” Sandstorm added with a rasp. “We didn't even get her long enough to celebrate her birthday…”

“Guys, come on,” Redwing spoke from next to Hot Rod’s cell, making an attempt to cheer them up.

“What's the point?” Sandstorm grumbled.

“Redwing, if there’s something you know that we don’t—and I know that’s a lot but I mean specifically related to this—then now is the time to share,” Hot Rod declared.

“Well, there's not much to say, actually. The person that ratted us out was Hotlink, or not-Hotlink, however you want to look at it. And, uh, this ship is run by crazy people. And manned by crazy people. It's just a bunch of crazy in a can. And we're in the can!” the seeker recapped.

“At least tell me why you’re goading Hotlink and Sandstorm when they just lost so much?” Hot Rod reminded harshly. “Can’t you let them mourn? Or is this like the ghost incident and there’s something I’m misunderstanding?”

“I am holding onto the hope that Alexis got herself and the twins to safety,” Redwing answered straightforwardly.

“…I pray to Primus she has…” Hot Rod sighed. “He may not have done much for me, but I sure hope He’s looking out for her and the twins...”

“Guys, I can’t…” Hotlink let out wearily. “I can’t take this…”

“Okay, what would you have me do?” Redwing asked. “Give up? You know how easy that is for me?”

“Yeah, but you act as if you don't care,” Sandstorm growled.

“…I… will admit to that.”

“If you want to be hopeful, that’s fine… But don’t…” Hotlink heaved a hefty sigh as he took in another long breath. “Don’t talk about it and pass it on to me… If I get hopeful and find out it was misplaced, I… I…” The engineer trailed off as more tears welled up in his optics.

“It’s okay, Hotlink,” Hot Rod said, trying to comfort the mourning seekers across from him. “I’ll carry the hope for you two.”

Redwing let out a light sigh. “Okay. Well, either way we look at this, we need a plan. Until then, I'll just wait here.” He went further into his cell and relaxed on his recharging slab.

“How are we going to come up with a plan?” Sandstorm snapped. “We're trapped. IN PRISON!” He let out a pained breath as he put his head into his hands to wipe away any lubricant that formed up under his optics.

“Well, in my experience with prison breaks,” Redwing declared, “we need to start with something so spontaneously random no one will expect it.”

Hotlink let out a sniff and then mumbled, “Right up your alley…”

Hot Rod turned and went to have a seat on his recharge slab, the only time he had to break out of somewhere coming to mind. “…I broke out of a Quintesson prison once.”

“Quintesson?” Sandstorm asked, lifting his head out of his hands to peer at the Autobot curiously.

“The Quintessons, Sandstorm, are supposedly the creators of transformers as a race,” the Autobot explained. “I say ‘supposedly’ because I’m not positive just how much truth there is to it. So anyway, the Quintessons shoved me and Kup in this pool teaming with Sharkticons. But their mistake was releasing us from our energon bonds when they dropped us. We dove down deep before the Sharkticons could figure out where their prey went. And once down there, we transformed into our vehicle modes, then started driving around the bottom. Around and around and around, picking up speed, and pretty soon we created a whirlpool strong enough to fling us out of the pit. But we weren’t free yet. The Sharkticons got out, too, and the Quintessons were hacked off. And that’s when we started having a good old-fashioned showdown. The Dinobots broke in and got in on it, too! Man, they really turned the tides. The Quintessons never saw any of it coming,” the young Autobot recounted with a small smile.

It was the chorus of footsteps coming from down the hall that caused Hot Rod to stop speaking. He got up from the charging slab, strode up to the barrier, and leaned a bit, trying to avoid the barrier while also peering out to see who was walking in their direction, and given the sound of the footsteps, he could almost guess who it was.

And it was exactly who he thought. The purple-and-navy blue Optimus, followed by a couple of guards, and the chief officer that brought them aboard.

“Ooooh. Guests for us?” Redwing asked when the bridge doors opened.

“Retrieve the Autobot,” Optimus commanded. “Make sure he's restrained.”

Hot Rod hardened his gaze as he saw the two guards approaching. “Wish me luck, guys…” he muttered. One guard pointed a rifle at him while, motioning for Hot Rod to step away from the barrier and turn around. Once the Autobot had done so, the other guard lowered the cell barrier and went in to fetch him, putting the bot back into restraints and making sure that they were holding before pulling him out of the cell rather roughly.

Both Sandstorm and Hotlink had shifted from their mourning positions slightly to see what was happening, watching as Hot Rod was dragged out of his cell and held in front of the dark Optimus, the guards' hands positioned like Hot Rod couldn’t stand for himself.

The chief officer held out the datapad for his commander and Optimus took it gingerly, scrolling through the contents that were stored within its databanks.

“You are… Rodimus Prime? Bearer of the Matrix?” Optimus asked, taking a good look at Hot Rod before giving him a scowl. “The screenshots we have of you are… misleading.”

“Well, I think your spies have sucky cameras,” Redwing interjected.

“I will only demand this once,” Optimus proclaimed, ignoring Redwing’s statement. “Give me your Matrix.”

Hot Rod didn’t back down. Instead he fixed Optimus with a firm gaze and stated defiantly, “Eat my aft.”

“I see. Stubborn as ever,” Optimus turned, and gave the back the datapad to the officer. “Since you seem to be unable…” The commander spun on his back foot, and wound back his fist as if he were building up for a big punch.

Hot Rod braced for the inevitable, feeling even the guards holding him tighten their grip. And then, just as he anticipated, he felt Optimus’s fist nail him in the lower abdomen. Preparing for it did little good, seeing as it knocked the air right out of his vents. The smaller Autobot gasped for air, and then felt the next punch, and then the next and then the next, with each punch from Optimus beginning to echo through the room.

Everyone in their cells could only watch helplessly as their friend was being beaten by some Optimus look-alike. One of the punches made Hotlink lurch forward to make a move to help, but the crimson barrier made it clear that he was powerless to do anything.

Optimus took a break after a few more punches, letting the Autobot catch his breath and wheeze in some form of recovery, but Hot Rod clearly still had some fight left in him, as he glared back up at Optimus.

“I will NOT… give you… the Matrix…!” Hot Rod rasped as loudly as he could, though with great strain from being punched over and over.

“Aw, come on! You're not going to get anything out of him!” Redwing complained. “Remember how stubborn he is?”

“He’s the leader of the Autobots,” the dark Prime reasoned. “He has the Matrix of Leadership!”

“You sure? I mean, look at him.” Redwing put his hands through his barrier and gestured to the pummeled Autobot. “Does he look like he’s leadership material to you? I don’t think so. And you already know he's a liar. I mean, think back to your universe! Who would have the Matrix there?”

“I would, fool!” Optimus snapped.

“Yeah yeah, I get that,” the red seeker waved dismissively. “But think of, I don’t know, next in line or processions or something like that. Who would be the one to have it after you?”

The question made Optimus pause and think for a second. It hadn’t occurred to him that this universe might just be more similar to his than he might have thought. As soon as he put that together, his optics widened with fury. “Magnus…” he let out in a low growl.

“Exactly. Magnus,” Redwing confirmed, feeding into the Prime’s delusion. “He’s the one you want.”

“Then my information was wrong…” The purple Prime added, turning to glare at his accompanying officer, who could only recoil in confusion, stammering uselessly, not knowing what to say. There was silence for a second before Optimus chuckled. “You are a fool, young seeker,”

“Am I? I am?” Redwing asked innocently.

“We have everything we need now. It may not be the Matrix, but we have information on how to get it,” Optimus declared, turning to leave. “Put the Autobot back into his cell. Command Duty Officer, begin charging the cannon. We will target the first Cybertronain settlement we come across. That will attract Magnus' attention. We will make him and the Matrix come to us.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the officer bowed.

Optimus then exited the brig, leaving the officer and the guards to take care off Hot Rod.

With Hot Rod in his current state, he wasn’t able to put up much resistance while being dragged back to his cell. But he was alive. And he was very grateful for that. He was unceremoniously tossed into his cell, causing some of the dented plating he had to ache when he landed. He let out a quiet quiet groan before curling up to soothe the aches as best he could, despite being stuck with the restraints. He was able to glance behind him just in time to see his barrier reactivate, allowing the guards to leave the brig.

“…Redwing?” Hotlink let out when the situation died down and the guards had left. “If I didn't know who you were, I'd kiss you full on the lips.”

“I mean… if you want. I'm down,” the eccentric shrugged.

“But I know who you are.”

“Darn.”

“R…Redwing…” Hot Rod groaned through the aches. “Th-Thank you…”

“Oh.” Redwing paused, obviously trying not to get excited, but being betrayed by his wings as they fluttered rapidly. “Y-Your welcome…”

“We're still stuck behind bars,” Sandstorm reminded everyone with a grumble.

“We'll get out…” Hot Rod reassured as he moved to get into a sitting position, but groaned as the pain in his abdomen kept reminding him why he shouldn’t move. “Just give me a moment to think…”

“Are you going to be okay?” Hotlink checked.

“I've had worse beatings from Galvatron… I'll live…”

“Hmmm,” Redwing hummed. “Did you like the beatings?”

“No… Getting my aft beat into the ground and thrown into things is not my idea of a good time…”

“…Figuring out Hot Rod's fetishes for later use, Redwing?” Hotlink asked with a low and almost disapproving tone.

“N-No!”

“Good, because this is hardly the place for you two flirting.”

“Gimme a break…” Hot Rod groaned.

“It's NOT flirting!” Redwing protested.

“It is, and you just won't admit it,” Sandstorm pressed.

“No, he's right,” Hotlink corrected. “It's called 'leading Hot Rod on'.”

“Guys, am I going to have to get beat up again to get you all to stop bickering…?” Hot Rod warned, straining to turn over and peer at them but the pain making him recoil. “Primus, I'm trying to think and my everything is killing me...”

“Y'all are meanies,” Redwing declared.

Just then, an idea came to Hot Rod. “…Actually… Maybe…” he murmured, ignoring the pain for a few seconds.

“What?” Hotlink asked.

“Can you guys still use your chest rockets?” the Autobot asked.

“Well, I know I can,” Redwing confirmed. “And I love this plan except for—”

“Shut up, Redwing!” Sandstorm snapped. He then moved to open his chest to access the rockets, and was quite surprised when he still could. “Yeah, I still got them,” he confirmed.

“Okay. I'm going to be stupid,” Hot Rod declared, forcing his body to allow himself to move regardless of the damage he took.

“I thought we wanted smart plans,” Hotlink reminded.

“No, we want unexpected. And what I don't think they realize is that I have blasters hidden in the pipes on my arms.” Hot Rod got up onto his feet and examined his barrier again. “So… I'm going to raise a ruckus, because they hate me the most and I'm beat up anyway, and when someone comes in to shut me up, I'm going to try and make it out enough to shoot the controls on your cells, and you guys defend yourselves and take out the guards. Sound good?”

“…You're insane, Hot Rod,” Hotlink told him flatly. “I think you fragging lied and this is just an excuse to get your aft pounded into the ground some more.”

“See, I was going to say, I was loving this plan until I pieced together what you were going to do, then I was going to call you stupid,” Redwing added. “Because this is a crew of… about 300? I think? Yeah. 300 crazy people, give or take. And that's just the Decepticons supposed to man this ship. I have no clue about what other crazy people that Optimus brought aboard this ship. Odds are, most of us will be shot to death before we can make it off of the ship.”

“Great…” Sandstorm grumbled. “So if we make too much noise, it gets us killed…”

“Yeah,” Redwing confirmed “So, subtlety might be the name of the game here. We can go with the loud and proud plan, though. I'm not too picky.”

“I don’t exactly see how we can do subtlety with these stupid barriers in the way,” Hot Rod huffed as he kicked the energy gate a couple times, ignoring the pain that ran into his foot as a result.

“Then I guess we wait,” Hotlink sighed.

“We can’t wait!” Hot Rod objected. “We don’t have a lot of time before more innocents get caught in the blaze that Optimus is spreading! We have to sabotage the ship while there’s time!”

“That's the spirit!” a voice that was a mix of Irish and Scottish spoke up. “Action! Violence! Save the damsel-in-distress! I love a good adventure story!”

“Wait, what?” Sandstorm perked up, leaning to see who was speaking.

Redwing traced the voice to his shoulder, and squinted with displeasure when he saw a cat that wasn’t sitting there before. “Oh, you're here now…” he grumbled.

“The family reunion was cut short by a killjoy adventurer and everyone left. Uncle Leo would have been proud… if he hadn't been slaughtered! Sooo, I came to check how you all were doing.” In a flurry of butterflies, the cat poofed off his shoulder, and practically ignored the barrier and reassembled onto the can outside the cell door.

“A… cat?” Hotlink blinked.

“That is not a cat,” Hot Rod corrected. “Cats don't do that. That's some demon.”

“WROOONG! Well, maybe a fourth correct.” In another flurry of butterflies, the cat shifted forms and turned into a well-dressed 'human', wearing lavish purple-and-gold clothes. His hair, beard, and mustache were silvery and well-kept, coming to pointed ridges on the ‘stache and beard. His eyes were still cat-like, gold and slit. “Charmed to meetcha, lads! Sheogorath, Daedric Prrrrince of Madness.” He bowed as his grin turned mischievous. “At your service~”

“Redwing, what is this?” Sandstorm inquired, staring at the new arrival.

“Didn't you hear the introduction?” Redwing posed in return.

“I heard, but what is this?”

The eccentric cast his gaze to the 'man' standing outside his cell, screwing up his face as he tried to figure out how to explain. “He's… Ummm…”

“Don't you mind me,” Sheogorath waved. “I'm just a bystander.”

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Hot Rod realized. “You're a friend of Redwing's, right?”

The man laughed. “’Friend’! Ahhh, that's a good one~ If you consider ‘friend’ to mean ‘two people who have a mutual understanding of desired universal tomfoolery and games’! If ‘friends’ means ‘making sacrificial offerings and deals in exchange for services’!! Then yes, we're friends.”

“…I think I lost some clock speed…” Hotlink uttered.

“Have… Have you been sacrificing people to this… thing?” Sandstorm probed Redwing, eying the red seeker suspiciously.

“Not in the way that you think,” Redwing replied vaguely.

“I'm assuming this is the cat Lifeline was talking about?” Hot Rod put together.

“So you're not as stupid as you look!” the man grinned with his backhanded compliment.

Hot Rod pursed his lips together and took in a deep breath, trying very hard not to insult the new guest.

In another burst of butterflies, the man disappeared from the center of the brig, through Sandstorm’s barrier, and reassembled into his cat form on Sandstorm’s knee. “Oi! Why the long face? I can fix it for ya.” It was clearly funny only to the cat, seeing as he giggled to himself as soon as he said the question, following it up with a giddy, “Ohhh yes!”

“I can see why you and Redwing work together now,” Sandstorm retorted.

“We don't… ‘work together’,” Redwing corrected grumpily. “He's just a tag-along…”

With a thunderous entrance, a portal flashed into existence in the center of the brig. It was just sudden enough that almost everyone jumped when it appeared. On top of that, it bore the striking resemblance of Redwing’s original portal.

“What now…?” Hotlink groaned when he saw what it was.

“AHA!” Redwing cheered, clapping his hands together. “Thank Primus! Company's here!”

“Ah!” Sheogorath added musingly. “They've finally arrived! And that's my cue to get back to watching. Toodles and kisses!” He proceeded to leave in a sudden cloud of butterflies that somehow disappeared like they were never there.

“’They’?” Hot Rod asked. “You two were expecting people?”

From out of the portal stepped… a familiar figure. A black seeker with red wings, the Dark Star Saber attached to his waist, a little girl in a space suit in one arm, and two minicon children in the other.

“Hey, guys!” Shattered Glass Redwing greeted with a grin.

Chapter Text

The portal closed just as Alexis had managed to get Heartburn, Heatstroke, and herself through the portal in Redwing’s closet. But to her dismay, Alexis was able to see the a laser tear through the ship, as well as the sound of metal being torn asunder. When the portal closed, she knew that there was no going back.

The little girl sniffled as she examined the room around her to get her bearings. It was the room she caught Redwing in the first time, but it was only this room. On the opposite end of the room there was a door. Redwing had mentioned it but there was something else Redwing told her.

Slowly, Alexis made her way to the door. She examined it, and found that it was several times bigger than she was. The little girl raised her hand in an attempt to feel how the door opened, but with a single touch, the door hissed away.

Alexis’ eyes widened as she peered into the library. The true and proper library. Where Redwing kept his secrets. There were books upon books, artifacts of bizarre design, sealed away behind glass. And the worst part about all of it, was that the library was out of perspective.

As Alexis glanced around, she saw books become stairs, and stairs became walls, and walls became widows, and the windows became bookshelves. Everything was somehow changing as she was looking at it.

After a couple seconds of her gazing into the non-euclidian library, Alexis’ eyes began to hurt, and she had to tear them away. It was a lot to look at. And there wasn’t a lot of time to do it.

What was it Redwing told her about this place? There was something important. A lot of important things. What was the first? She wasn't going to get anywhere without something.

Alexis refocused her attention back on the room she was in, glancing around for any clue or hint to remember what Redwing told her. Soon her wandering gaze landed on a wall of headphones and cassette players of different sizes. THAT. She glanced back at the younglings and made sure they wouldn't wander off into the library, before darting over to grab herself a headset and scurrying back, putting them on along the way back. Once they were settled, she took hold of the minicons' arms again and took deep breaths so she could focus on the player.

The girl brought the newborns with her to the library door, and with one last breath, she stared deep into the library again. It all looked the same, with everything changing while she was looking around, but this time it didn’t hurt her eyes. Something about the headphones and cassette player was not only soothing the pain, but also helping the library make sense, even with it changing constantly.

Alexis sniffed again as she looked around. She realized that she had all these secrets open to her, and now the library was waiting to figure out what she wanted. But of all the things she could be looking for, the only word that kept repeating in her mind was ‘home’.

'Where is home?' a thought sounded in her head. It was a thought that was clearly not hers, but of some force or intelligence that seemed to be trying to help her.

'Where is home...?’ Alexis repeated the thought as tears begin to well up under her eyes. Home was... gone... Her home on the colony was destroyed. Her parents unfortunate victims of the event. Home was the ship with Sandstorm and Redwing and Rodimus and Hotlink and the twins. But now that was stripped from her, too. Her family was gone, her homes decimated. She just wanted to go home, but there was nothing waiting for her…

Bursting into loud sobs, the little girl collapsed to her knees. She didn't need to wander around the library without aid to be lost. She already was.

Everything went silent for a moment, as if the library either didn’t know how to help, or it was giving her a moment to grieve. Regardless, the only sound that could have been heard was Alexis’ sobs.

And then, without warning, a new sound entered the silence. Alexis calmed her wailing when she heard it, opening her eyes and glancing upwards to see what was causing it. She wasn’t able to see it, but she was still able to hear it, as it continued to get louder and louder. It was a light tapping at first, but then as it grew louder with each echo, it sounded like a ringing of clashing swords.

The little girl listened to the sound and slowly rose back up to her feet, curious as to where it was coming from. And just then, as if on cue, her curiosity was answered, as the information on how to get to what was making the noise filled her mind, as if she knew how to get there this entire time. And she even knew what it looked like. A training arena, filled with dummies and training droids, and in it was… another seeker? He looked familiar, but he was blurry, as if the seeker was new information to the library.

But he was there, and that was all Alexis needed. Upon receiving the instructions, she palmed away at her tears and snot, and wiped her hands on her clothes. She took hold of the twins once again and began coaxing them along with her. She knew it was odd to draw comfort from the sound of swords clashing and a blurry image of a figure, but for some reason it just was. It meant help. Help that was desperately needed.

Even with the room shapeshifting around her, Alexis was able to follow the path laid out for her in her mind. Where she wanted to go was clear and unchanging, as well as the knowledge of how to get there. And as she got closer, the sound of the sword fighting became louder, bolstering Alexis’ spirits and encouraging her to keep going.

The knowledge led Alexis to another room that had its door slightly ajar. With a little effort, the little girl was able to push it open enough for her and the twins to enter the training room. Alexis gasped as she recognized the seeker she saw earlier. A black, red and white seeker, who was currently going through some training exercises with a slender training droid.

“R…Redwing…?” Alexis interrupted as she took off her headphones.

The alternate Redwing jumped at the voice, and spun around to see where it had come from. His gaze wandered for a second, before it went down to look at the little girl and the two newborns with her. He blinked as he tried to process how they got in there.

“Oh! Um… Hello?” was all this Redwing was able to get out.

“You were… You were dead…” Alexis said slowly. “Hot Rod said so… But this isn't heaven… So… you're alive…?”

“Uh…” Shattered Glass Redwing grimaced as he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to give a good explanation. “Please don't tell anyone. This is supposed to be a secret.”

“I can't…” Alexis whimpered, letting out a sniffle as she tried to hold her emotions together. “They're all gone…!”

“Wait, what? Gone?”

“Mhm…” Alexis nodded. “Redwing was really scared and we were trying to leave and then… everyone disappeared except for me, Heartburn, and Heatstroke… Th-The ship's gone now, too… We can't go back…” She let go of one of the twins to palm away the tears building up in her eyes. “I'm scared…!”

“Hey, don't be like that,” alternate Redwing said, trying to soothe the distressed child. He set down his sword and went over to the little girl, kneeling down to try and further his attempts to comfort her. “We'll, uh. We'll… We could go after them?”

“How…?” the ten year old asked. “I don't know where they are…”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s something in this library,” alternate Redwing assured. “It’s also not like our exit was destroyed… right?”

“It's gone, Redwing…” Alexis repeated solemnly. “Everything is gone…”

The seeker paused as he heard the news. He nodded slightly and bit his lower lip as he tried to think of something to help Alexis calm down. Then suddenly, Shattered Glass Redwing’s optics widened as he gained an idea, and he reached into his subspace to pull out a cube. “Maybe…” the seeker uttered as he gained a subtle smirk.

“Mm…?” Alexis sniffed and wiped her eyes as she glanced up at the cube in the seeker’s hand. “What's that…?” she asked.

“This is a teleportation cube,” the alternate Redwing answered. “It can send us anywhere. It's what me and Redwing used to get to my Cybertron… but Redwing also told me not to put anything alive through it while inside the library… Something about… Hapsburg disease?”

The explanation went right over Alexis’ head, as she gave the seeker a completely and totally confused look.

SG Redwing shrugged back. “I don't know what it means either. But, I do know that Redwing also has a bunch of space bridge disks lying around. We can send those through the teleporter cube. All we have to do is find one, chuck it out, and presto! New exit.”

“Okay, that gets us out…” Alexis sighed and thought for a second. “But how would we find them…? I don’t even know who took them…”

“I honestly don't know how this thing works,” Redwing admitted, “I do remember that it worked when I was worried about Silvercloud, it took us straight to where she was. So… maybe it works off of emotions?”

“The-Then it can take us to Sandstorm??” Alexis asked, looking up at Shattered Glass Redwing with hope twinkling in her eyes.

“Maybe. But not from here. We need to create another exit.”

“R-Right!” Alexis sniffed once more and hurriedly wiped her eyes again, gaining a powerful hope that her family would be reunited after everything that just happened. “He’s got lots of stuff in here, right? Something’s got to help.”

“A lot of stuff is in here,” the seeker confirmed. “I think we just need the disks that look like the ones your Redwing already uses. So we might as well start looking.”

After raising up to his full height, Redwing pulled out his set of headphones and placed them over his audio receptors. Then, leaning down, the seeker picked up the twins so they wouldn’t wander away. Once they were secure, alternate Redwing looked over at Alexis and asked, “We ready?”

The little girl placed her headphones on her head and nodded at the seeker.

With that, the two set off to search the library. Fortunately, the two didn’t have to look far or long, as the two ended up in front of a supply cabinet that was fairly close by. Once the two had found it, alternate Redwing opened it and let out a gasp when he saw the contents.

Inside the closet were stacks upon stacks of space bridge disks. The closet was filled with nothing but gold and silver disks that reached up to the ceiling, and went further back into the closet.

“…How many of these things does he have?” Redwing let out.

“…We're going to be here for so long…” Alexis added with a bit of desperation.

“I-I-I don't think we need all of them,” the seeker hastily assured. “Just one I think.”

“Any one of them?”

“They all look the same. I think so?”

Alexis took another glance at the stacks of disks and hummed with uncertainty for a second, but eventually, she reached in and made an attempt to pull a disk out, though with the weight of the other disks on top of the one she picked, she barely got the disk to budge.

Alternate Redwing saw this and put the twins down to help dislodge the disk. With a clank of metal, the seeker pulled the disk free. Once it was, he pulled out the teleportation cube.

“Alright. I'm going to focus on where we had the campfire,” the seeker announced. “We should be able to make an exit there.” Alternate Redwing then held out the cube and closed his optics to concentrate.

Alexis went over to the twins, and held them for good luck, and to make sure that they didn’t crawl away into the library. To her relief, a portal flashed into existence.

After the portal opened, Shattered Glass Redwing opened his optics and smiled. He tossed the space bridge disk inside and then closed it again.

“Alright. Now we exit and teleport to everyone else.” The seeker grinned and glanced down at the little girl, and then had a sudden flash of realization. “Umm… Can you breathe in space?”

“No, I can’t,” the child answered, shaking her head.

“Oh, then we’ll have to get a spacesuit for you, just in case they’re trapped in space somewhere. Does this place have a spacesuit that will fit you?”

It was a good concern. With a breath, Alexis thought of a spacesuit and wondered if there was one her size in the library. And in an instant, another supply closet came to mind, along with the knowledge of where it was.

“I know where it is,” Alexis said, and began to lead the way to the image in her mind. Alternate Redwing followed the little girl, and the group made their way to the spacesuits.

“Do you want help putting it on or do you think you can handle it yourself?” the seeker asked.

“I thhhink I can get it,” Alexis answered, eyeing the suit with uncertainty.

“Okay. I need to grab something before we leave. But I'll meet you at the exit. Do you want these two or do you want me to hold onto them?”

Alexis looked at the twins. “I should watch them… for Hotlink…”

The alternate Redwing nodded, and left the girl and the twins on their own so he could go get his things.

Alexis made sure that the twins were in sight before she started working with the suit, opening it up and sliding her way inside. It was a surprisingly snug fit, but she was able to seal it up and get it to work like it should.

Once the suit was on, the ten year old was able to coax the twins back to the exit. By this time, she was getting the hang of working with the two, knowing how to keep them following her. It also helped that she now had boosted confidence in reuniting the family again. Soon, she was able to see the exit, with alternate Redwing waiting for her, and with the Dark Star Saber strapped to his side.

The alternate glanced down at her when she approached. “Well… Here's hoping we're going to end up where we want…” He reached a hand out to the controls of the portal, and with a soothing hum, the portal came into existence.

Alexis watched the portal open, and took a deep breath while tightening her grip on the twins she was holding. “Be brave…” the girl whispered to herself. “For Sandstorm.” With another breath, Alexis approached the portal, glanced up at Shattered Glass Redwing, and with twins in hand, the group stepped through the portal.

After a tingling sensation, Alexis felt her foot hit solid ground, with the twins still being held in her hands. She found herself facing a forest, with the sun turning a good shade of orange as it sank down below the treeline.

“W-Wow… You were right…” the seeker gasped. “Everything is gone… Wow…”

Alexis turned to look behind her, and gasped as she saw what was left of the ship. She knew it was bad, but it was even worse than she thought. There was practically nothing left of the ship. There was scraps of metal, some of it still melting from the barrage. Some of the components of the ship that weren’t metal were on fire, and all of it now in several craters.

The sight hurt her. She turned away from the sight and closed her eyes to hold back the tears that were beginning to build up again. “Let’s go…” she croaked out. “I don’t want to stay here…”

“Yeah, I hear you,” the seeker responded. He took out the cube and held it for a second, before kneeling down and offering it to the child. “You have a better connection with everyone than I do. Do you think you can open a portal to them?” he asked.

Alexis looked the box over. It was roughly as big as she was, maybe a little smaller, but it was obviously not a box she could hold herself. “I hope I can…” she sighed, releasing her grip on the twins and moving to put her hands on the box. With a slow inhale, she shut her eyes and began to think about Sandstorm and how she was willing to do anything to find him and everyone else.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. The little girl could feel the smoothness of the box and the coolness of the metal through the warmth of her suit. For a moment, it felt like nothing was happening, and then suddenly, a rush of warmth flooded Alexis’ nerves, causing her to open her eyes and glance to her side. Right where a new portal flashed into existence.

A smile emerged on Alexis’ face as she saw the portal emerge. “I did it!” she exclaimed giddily through her helmet.

“Awesome!” the alternate Redwing encouraged. He put the cube back into his subspace and offered his hand to the little girl, who hastily got on and held on to the seeker’s fingers as he scooped up the twins with his other arm. Once the three of them were secure in his arms, he rose up to his full height and faced the portal.

“You ready?” he asked, glancing down at Alexis.

The little girl nodded.

Alternate Redwing took in a deep intake and then let it out slowly. “Here we go.”

With the children in his arms, the seeker moved forward and took a step through the portal.

Chapter Text

“A-Alexis? I-Is that you?” Sandstorm gasped as he saw the group exit through the portal. He jumped up and focused his optics on his daughter, who was safely in alternate Redwing’s hands.

“Heartburn… Heatstroke…” Hotlink added, getting to his feet as well to smile with overwhelming relief at his twins.

Red knelt down and placed his hand on the floor, allowing Alexis to rush over to her father’s cell.

“D-Daddy!” the little girl cried out. “You're okay?! I-I got help!”

“Alexis, you beautiful little girl~” Hot Rod beamed as he saw her. “Great job!”

“I-I'm fine, Alexis,” Sandstorm answered, though it was obvious he was trying not to cry from his optics. “I… I thought you… That all three of you…”

Redwing wasted no time when he saw Red. He poked an arm through his barrier and pointed at a dashboard with a bunch of controls. “Cell controls are on the left,” he instructed.

“Hey!” a voice called from outside the brig. “What's going on in there?”

“And guards are on the right. I'd recommend you take care of them first.”

The alternate Redwing went over to one of the cells and leaned down to put Heartburn and Heatstroke out of the way. Once he took care of them, he got back up and pulled the Dark Star Saber from his hip.

From the entrance, two guards stepped in and were shocked to see Shattered Glass Redwing, standing with their mouths agape as they stared. It lasted only for a second, their surprise quickly turning to anger. One of the guards drew their blasters and began to fire on the free seeker, while the other began to charge headlong to try and tackle Shattered Glass Redwing.

As the alternate dashed out of the way of the charger, to his surprise, the Dark Saber reacted instinctually, moving to deflect the blaster bolts seemingly on its own.

Hotlink grimaced as he saw the charger miss the seeker and almost trample his twins. “Alexis, over here!” he called. “Get the twins here!”

Alexis shot a look over at the engineer, and then at the twins. Not wanting to see more of her family in peril, she darted over to the minicons, and began to coax them over to the engineer’s cell. And thanks to her extensive care over the two, Alexis had gotten quite good at it.

Once the twins were in front of his cell, Hotlink adjusted himself to carefully, and rather painfully, force one of his wings through the barrier to create a shield to protect the kids.

“Good girl,” the engineer smiled, though he winced when another surge of pain coursed through his wing.

Everyone watched as Shattered Glass Redwing continued to deal with the guards. The charger that was going after him recovered from the seeker’s dodge, and had twisted around for another go at him. The guard with the blaster didn’t let up either, letting out a constant barrage of blaster fire.

And then, when the charger was close enough, Shattered Glass Redwing swung the Dark Saber, and cut the guard in two, causing both halves to slump to the ground. He rounded on one of his heels, and faced the gunman, who began to look more afraid now that his partner had gone.

It was the seeker’s turn to charge. He bolted at the gunman, who let out another barrage of blaster fire to try and stop the assailant. It did little good, as Shattered Glass Redwing let the Dark Saber deflect the oncoming bolts, and with a quick slash, cut the gunman in two.

Once the fight was over, the seeker blinked as he glanced between the two corpses he had just made, surprised by just how easy it felt.

“So… how much of that are you going to take credit for?” Redwing asked.

The alternate glanced up with surprise. “I understand how we tore though that base now…”

“Yeah, it's a powerful sword,” older Redwing nodded. “Let us out, please.”

“Right, right,” his counterpart remembered, sheathing the sword and going over to the controls. Once he was there, he began to work at them until the energy barriers had fallen, allowing the team to leave their individual cells.

Hotlink let out a sigh of relief as the sharp pain stopped coursing through his wing. He examined it slightly, finding the wing charred and rather sensitive. Definitely not suited for flight at the moment. But that was a problem for another time. After his brief examination, he shifted himself to lean down and scoop up his twins into a tight hug. And it warmed up his spark when they snuggled into him in return.

Alexis darted out from her hiding spot and rushed over to Sandstorm, glomping her adopted father and wrapping whatever part of his leg she could in a big hug. Sandstorm smiled and knelt down to return the hug as best he could.

Hot Rod darted out of his cell and went to check on everyone, despite him still being in restraints.

Hotlink glanced up at the Autobot when he came closer. “How are you so full of energy? You said your everything hurts.”

“And I'm ready to dish it back,” Hot Rod stated bluntly.

Sandstorm stepped out of his cell and eyed the alternate Redwing. “So, I saw your body! How are you alive?”

“Oh, yeah… that,” Shattered Glass Redwing answered sheepishly. “Um, that may not have been my body.”

“Wait, then whose body—” Sandstorm paused min-sentence, as his optics lit up with realization. Slowly, he turned to face Redwing, his Redwing, who was twirling one of the guard’s helmets on his finger.

Redwing noticed Sandstorm staring at him and only paused slightly. “What?” he asked.

“Look, whatever miracle or trick or whatever Redwing pulled off, let's just be grateful other Redwing isn't actually dead,” Hot Rod stated. “We need to focus on taking out the ship. Its weapon systems specifically. After all, they've got Redwing's Matrix juice hooked up to it now.”

“Well, it's not my Matrix juice,” older Redwing reminded.

“Oh,” Shattered Glass Redwing remembered. “Also, I grabbed this.” He reached into his subspace and pulled out the teleportation cube, offering it to the eccentric.

“YES! MY BABY!” Redwing screamed with a wide grin on his face. He took the cube and gave it a spin in his hand. Somehow, this opened another portal, allowing Redwing to reach in and pull out a sword. “Alright. I'm ready.”

“So, how are we going to take this ship down?” Sandstorm asked.

Hot Rod cleared his throat and extended his cuffed arms. “Well, unless you all plan to just leave me prisoner?” he hinted.

Hotlink shot a glance at the Autobot before turning to Redwing. “Your boyfriend needs help, you kinky flight frame.”

Redwing glared at Hotlink, squinting in some sort of subtle communication. Then, suddenly, and without looking, Redwing swung the sword upwards and cut off Hot Rod’s restraints, freeing the Autobot.

Hot Rod whistled as he rubbed his newly released wrists. “Niiice. Alright, I'll figure out an extended plan along the way, but it basically boils down to: kill the weapons, beat the slag outta Optimus. We'll also need to find a new ship. This one should have a dock, right? It's big enough to fit a few smaller ships in it, one would think.”

“I suppose it's a start,” Hotlink nodded, getting to his feet. “Are we splitting up?”

“Are we?” Hot Rod asked, looking over at Redwing.

“I-I don't know.” Redwing shrugged. “I'm not in charge. I only know—”

Something caused the ship to rumble, and the lights to flicker slightly, cutting Redwing off. The more concerning part was the amount of static energy everyone felt now coursing through their body. Alexis’ hair began to stand up slightly, while a nearby panel shocked Shattered Glass Redwing, who yelped in response. Soon the lights were back on, but the feeling of ionized air was still there.

“What was that?” Sandstorm asked.

“That felt like a Cerberus cannon powering up,” Redwing answered, his optics widening as he glanced around. “Why did that feel like a Cerberus cannon powering up???”

“A what?” his alternate asked.

“Big giant gun,” Redwing answered. “Very powerful.”

Hot Rod gritted his teeth when the lights came back on, suddenly twisting around and bolting into the portal that Redwing summoned.

“Wait!! Hot Rod!!” Hotlink called as the Autobot rushed through.

There was the sound of calamity from the portal, followed by the sound of Hot Rod falling to the ground with a bunch of other items.

Hotlink growled and shook his head. “Rodimus wasn’t this impulsive!”

Redwing leaned in and stared into the portal, and more specifically, at the Autobot that spectacularly crashed headlong into a weapons rack, and knocked himself and several blaster rifles to the ground.

“I’m curious, where did you think that was going?” Redwing asked.

Hot Rod groaned as he rose back up to his feet and shook himself from the collision, wandering back out of the portal as he rubbed his head with his hand. “Shut up…” he growled, much too embarrassed to explain his spontaneous 'reasoning'.

“Look, I get your sense of urgency, but—” Hotlink began.

“Innocents are going to die, Hotlink!” the Autobot interrupted, looking absolutely pissed at whatever Hotlink was about to say. “Don’t you go and tell me to slow down!”

“…But we should stick together, is what I was going to say,” Hotlink continued.

The look on the Autobot’s face melted into a sheepish expression as Hotlink finished his sentence. “Ah… Sorry…”

“I think what we need most is both information and time,” Redwing suggested. “We need to find schematics or something.”

“Why not find an engineer?” Sandstorm added. “Wouldn't they have schematics?”

“Yeah, good thinking,” Hotlink confirmed.

As he was listening to the conversation, Hot Rod turned and took a step into the portal again, not going as fast as last time. The room itself wasn’t huge. Maybe a few square feet for one bot to stand in. But the walls had racks of blaster pistols and blaster rifles of various models and makes, other than the ones that he had knocked to the ground. After his quick glance, he reached out and grabbed a couple pistols and rifles. “So we’ll want to hit up an engine room,” Hot Rod added.

“I mean… we could… or we could find a janitor's office,” Redwing continued. “Or break something less complicated and have less likely chance to send an army at us.”

“Or cause a distraction somewhere else and then go to an engine room,” Shattered Glass Redwing suggested.

“On second thought, can we just blow the thing up?” Sandstorm asked.

“Subtlety makes it so we don’t get 300 plus warriors on our backs, remember?” Hotlink reminded.

“I'm just saying!” Sandstorm defended. “We blow this ship up, it's problem solved.”

“That's assuming we can blow it up,” Redwing mentioned. “And to know that, we need information. Which I'm off to go get now.” He turned on his heels and began to walk out of the brig. “Have fun bickering.” And with that sentence, he disappeared behind the door.

“Should we follow him?” his alternate asked. “Does he even know where he's going?”

“He actually may have some semblance of where he’s going,” Hotlink sighed. “But yes, we should follow.”

“Hang on,” Hot Rod called, holding out a couple of blasters to Hotlink and Sandstorm.

“No extra weapon for you?” Hotlink asked, shifting the twins in his arms before taking the blaster offered to him.

“I’m better at hand-to-hand and I’ve already got built-in shooters,” the Autobot answered.

Sandstorm took the gun from Hot Rod and grimaced as he held it. “Oh, Primus… This thing is heavier than I thought.”

Once the two had their blasters, Hot Rod transformed and opened up his windshield, revealing the soft seats inside his alt mode.

“Children in and buckle up,” he requested. “Things are going to get rough.”

Alexis rushed over to the Autobot and clambered inside the sports car, hunkering down in one of the seats. Once she was situated, Hotlink leaned down and placed the twins in the seat next to her. Once the three of them were inside, Hot Rod buckled them up, and closed the windshield.

“Let's rumble,” the Autobot said as he revved his engines and sped up and out of the brig.

The rest of the group took off after him, though clearly not as fast as the sports car ahead of them. Regardless, the group was able to catch up to Redwing, who had already made quite a mess of his own with a few other troopers he encountered.

“Oh hey!” Redwing greeted as the rest of the group joined him. “Junior! Help me hide the bodies in a closet or something.”

“In a closet?” his alternate asked. “Won't someone look in those?”

“No. Crazy people are afraid of closets,” Redwing declared, moving towards a nearby disposal bin with one of the troopers in his arms. “Perfect place to hide a dead body.”

“Classic,” Hotlink commented, picking up a body of his own and moving it towards a closet. “It's probably bad to say that this takes me back…”

“Eh, I think that depends,” Redwing remarked as he dumped his trooper into the disposal bin head first, his legs and arms sticking out of the can in a very not-at-all-conspicuous way.

Sandstorm watched the group for a second, before moving forward a bit to scout the halls ahead. Fortunately, he saw no one, but there was a panel in the wall that was loose. With his curiosity nagging at him, the conehead went over to the loose section and lifted it off its supports. Once it was removed, Sandstorm tossed the wall aside. Behind the section was a series of pipes, with dials, levers, and gauges all reading various different readings. He studied it for a second, and seemed to have an idea. He turned to the others and asked, “Hey, engineers would have schematics on them to diagnose problems, right?”

Hotlink turned to Sandstorm after he was done hiding a trooper in a closet. “Yeah, I did all the time back on Cybertron. Find something?”

“Yeah, I might have,” Sandstorm answered, turning back to the array of pipes and raised his gun at them. He had never fired a blaster before, and he had no idea what to expect. After a quick breath, he pulled the trigger.

A flash of purple shot from the gun and hit one of the pipes, causing it to burst with some strange clear fluid. Sandstorm didn’t mind it much, and adjusted his aim to hit another pipe, and then another, and another. Soon, a combination of colorful fluids were either spraying, oozing, or steaming out of the broken pipes.

“Hide,” Sandstorm called, rushing away from his mess and moving another panel on the opposite wall, adjacent to his new mess.

Hotlink and Shattered Glass Redwing caught on to what Sandstorm was doing, and followed suit, each moving a section of wall out of the way before clamoring inside the tight space and placing the panel back where it had been. Hot Rod found a nearby vent that he could fit in while he was in his sports car mode, and zipped right in.

“Oooh, are we doing something clever?” Redwing asked, noticing the multicolored spray of liquids.

“Yes,” Sandstorm answered, “because if this ship is massive, we might be wandering a while before we find what we're looking for.” He carefully got behind his panel and closed it just enough to see if anyone was coming to inspect the damaged pipes.

It felt like an eternity waiting inside their cramped spaces, but in reality, it was probably only a minute before the sound of footsteps and conversation could be heard slowly approaching.

“Something broken and energon on the ground?” a voice grumbled. “A fight must've broken out or something…”

“You know nobody's going to fess up to it, too,” another voice complained. “Such a hassle… Can't they save it for the crusade?”

“Of course not,” the first voice answered. The owner of the voice came into view and began making his way to the broken pipes. He was soon followed by another Decepticon, who looked just as grumpy as the first.

“My guess it was probably those… Autobots Optimus brought aboard as well,” the first engineer continued. “And I gotta say… I don't trust them.” He paused in front of the broken pipes and huffed. “I wouldn't be surprised if they did this. No respect for this ship. This is ours, dammit.”

Their buddy put their hands on their hips as they inspected the damage. “I don’t get why they’re even here. We’re superior in every way, it’s not like they’re needed. All they do is cause trouble. Hoity toity spawns of…” The engineer trailed off as the two of them continued to both examine the damage, and to complain loudly to each other.

Sandstorm and Hotlink saw their opportunity to sneak out of their hiding spots and creep closer to the two engineers. It was a rather easy task, as the mechanics talked much louder than the seeker and conehead were as they continued to tip-toe towards them.

Once the two of them were close enough, both Sandstorm and Hotlink raised their blasters and took aim. Hotlink looked to Sandstorm for his cue to fire. Sandstorm, on the other hand, could feel his fuel pump racing. He felt tense as he aimed his rifle at the back of one of the engineer’s head. Once he noticed Hotlink looking at him, he took a quick breath, and nodded at his trinemate.

Hotlink fired his blaster, cutting off his engineer from finishing his sentence. Sandstorm also fired, stopping his target from raising a fuss over his fallen counterpart.

Redwing popped out of the ceiling when the commotion died down. “Well well well! Look at you two being stealthy,” he complimented.

“That's quite the praise, Redwing.” Hotlink knelt down and began to go through the technician’s subspace.

“You could have helped,” Sandstorm stated to the red seeker.

“And ruin your idea?” Redwing scoffed. “Nah.”

Hot Rod and Shattered Glass Redwing emerged from their respective hiding spots.

“Do they have schematics?” the alternate Redwing asked.

Sandstorm knelt down and went through the subspace of the other engineer. After a bit of searching, he pulled out a datapad. “Is this something?”

Hotlink glanced up from his body and looked at the datapad in the conehead’s hands. “Yeah, that’s it.” He took the datapad and began to go through it, pulling up a general schematic and holding it for those still in robot mode to see. “The weapon systems are a little spread, but the main junction seems to be here,” the engineer informed, pointing to a spot near the center of the schematic.

“Where's that super cannon?” Redwing asked. “And does it say what type of paneling the ship has?”

“The super cannon takes up the entire front portion of the ship,” Hotlink answered, then frowned as he went through some ship information. “Looks like it's got phase paneling,” he added.

“Oh… Phase panels… Okay…” Redwing grimaced.

“What are phase panels?” Sandstorm asked.

“So, phase panels are super-experimental spaceship plating,” Redwing explained. “It allows a ship to go outside the laws of reality and existence, and into a pocket dimension. Kinda like a submarine, but only for a vacuum. Great for evading all known forms of radar and scanners.”

“How do you know this?” his alternate asked.

“I dug up Shockwave's old voice logs when he threw them away. He dubbed the panels too energy consumptive and deemed them inefficient to be used after the Arbalest.”

“Can we cut off the energy supply?” Hot Rod asked.

“Yeah, it's called an off switch,” Redwing answered. “And it's either going to be in the bridge or in the engine room.”

“I'm placing my bets on the engine room,” Hot Rod decided. “Mainly because if we charge the bridge, we will not make it.”



“It's a starting point at least,” Hotlink sighed.

“Well, there's also the fatal flaw in the phase panels,” Redwing added. “But I'm pretty sure we don't have an asteroid field or a moon nearby in order to take advantage of it.”

“Fatal flaw?” Sandstorm echoed questioningly, raising an optic ridge.

“It takes a lot of processing power to let anything pass through the ship,” Redwing explained. “So you either need one giant thing or a lot of little things surrounding the ship as it's trying to pass through.”

“Do the lots of little things have to be the size of asteroids?” Hot Rod queried.

“No,” older Redwing answered. “The processor isn't trying to process the objects. It's trying to process the atoms and particles inside, to avoid causing micro-tears in the ship. If too many panels become super-active, you basically blow the ship's computer. It's like giving someone a serious case of sensory overload.”

“…Hey, Sandstorm,” Hot Rod said slowly as he got an idea. “Remind me what your special ability is again?”

“Uhh… Sand manipulation,” the conehead answered. “I just use electromagnetic currents to just whip sand around.”

“Redwing, think we can get Sandstorm the material he needs?” the Autobot continued.

“We would need, like, a ton of sand,” Redwing ranted as he thought aloud. “Or something highly electromagnetic. Where in the vacuum of space do you think—” He paused mid-question as he seemingly answered it himself. He reached into his subspace and pulled out the black teleportation cube, releasing a long sigh as he stared at it mournfully. “There… might be a way… but it's going to come at a cost…”

“You’ll survive,” Hot Rod assured.

“Let’s go, Redwing,” Hotlink urged. “We’re on a time crunch.”

“Y-You don't understand!” Redwing stammered in protest. “This thing has been with me since the hospital! I'm breaking one of the few laws of teleportation just so we can break something else!”

“Primus,” Sandstorm huffed impatiently. “You break rules all the time.”

“Well, then I at least ask for you guys to stop the ship first so I don't miss.”

“Which means…” alternate Redwing realized. “We have to take the engine room.”

“I actually need to get to the ship's teleporter to make this work,” older Redwing added.

“Of course you do…” Sandstorm groaned, rolling his optics.

“You guys go to the engine room and stop the ship, then I'll break the laws of teleportation,” Redwing declared.

“Good luck, then,” Hot Rod said. “We're counting on you, so don't get yourself caught.”

“Oh, don't worry, I won't,” Redwing responded glumly, sulking away and going back the way the group came from.

“Should we… go with him to make sure he's going to be okay?” his alternate asked.

“I don't want to,” Sandstorm answered brusquely. “Where's the engine room?”

“Let's hide the bodies real quick, then follow me,” Hotlink replied, picking one of the bodies up and rushing to dump it in the cavity of wall paneling where he was hiding.

Sandstorm sighed and moved to pick up his body and hide it as well. He got somewhat of a boost from Hot Rod, as the car maneuvered to push the body with his front bumper. Within him, Alexis grimaced and covered her eyes to avoid staring at the body in front of her. Soon, both bodies were hidden, and the group set of towards the engines.

Hotlink led the way, stopping every now and again when the sound of Decepticon crew members came near, and rushed to hide when said crew sounded too close. But only after a few delays, the group found their way to the engine room.

“Here we are,” Hotlink announced, giving the huge room and the accompanying engine a quick glance. It was an impressive engine to say the least. It was easily about as big as a combiner at full height, with catwalks and balconies hanging along the mid and upper areas of the engines, allowing for easy access and repairs. Ladders and stairs were sprinkled around as well for easy access to said platforms.

“Okay, now how do we stop this thing?” Sandstorm asked. “Is there a stop button?”

“For an engine as big as this one, we’d be looking for a few levers,” Hotlink answered.

“I'm guessing it's going to be on the engine itself right?” Shattered Glass Redwing asked.

“You got it,” Hotlink squinted at a particular part of the engine as he spotted a dark lever with a red handle. “I think that’s one right there,” he declared, pointing to the lever he spotted.

It was at that moment when the group’s comms came to life, and Redwing’s voice could be heard.

“Have you guys stopped the ship yet?” he asked with a hint of urgency in his voice.

“Working on it,” Hotlink answered, moving to the lever he spotted and pulling it downwards to shut it off.


While Hot Rod still had the kids inside his cabin, he decided to be helpful and zoom around the engine to look for the levers. He skidded to a halt when he found another like the one Hotlink pointed out. “Sandstorm,” he called. “Here’s another one.”

Sandstorm came over, though he was slightly grumbling as he approached the lever, clearly annoyed at Redwing’s sudden sense of urgency.

Hotlink took a turn around one of the engine components and found another switch, pulling it downwards into the shut-off position. Once he was done with that switch, he glanced over to the other two at the last switch. “That all of them pulled?” he asked.

“Think so?” Hot Rod guessed.

With a tug, Sandstorm pulled the switch. He didn’t get a word out when he was done though, because without warning, the ship lurched, sending the standing transformers off their feet, and tumbling onto the ground. Hot Rod skidded a bit, but soon, everyone was still, and the engines had gone silent.

“Thanks, guys,” Redwing said through the comms.

“He knew the whole time…” Sandstorm grumbled as he got back to his feet. He took a quick glance at everyone before realizing… “Um… Where's other Redwing? Wasn't he just here?”

Hot Rod spun around to look at where the alternate was. “He was…” he began, only to realize that Shattered Glass Redwing was indeed gone.

“Tsk!” Hotlink hissed as he got back onto his feet. “Primus, we don’t have time for this unplanned splitting up business!”

“We should follow his example and get out of the room, though,” Hot Rod pointed out. “There’ll be bots coming to check out the engine soon enough.”

[Elsewhere]

Redwing held onto the console as the ship was still being thrown through space, so he could stay upright and at the controls to the teleportation room. As soon as he felt the ship recover from the sudden stop, Redwing went back to messing with the teleportation controls.

“You left twenty bodies in the halls,” a voice called from the doorway.

Redwing glanced upwards and saw his alternate standing there, looking very perturbed. “Did I? Huh. I must be getting sloppy in my old age,” Redwing commented, before going right back to the controls.

“I had to find hiding places for all of them,” his alternate continued.

“Oh. Well, you didn't have to do that, but that was thoughtful of you.”

Shattered Glass Redwing approached his alternate and watched older Redwing work on the controls. “So, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, y'know. Just bringing everyone… here.” With his declaration, he activated the teleporter.

The teleport pad glowed for a second, and with a flash of light and sound, Sandstorm, Hotlink, Hot Rod, Alexis and the twins appeared, looking visibly shaken from the sudden room shift.

“R-REDWING?!?” Sandstorm gawked as he caught on to where he was.

“Now, I can read your thoughts, because I am psychic. ‘Redwing, why did you teleport us away from the engine room?’ And to which I respond, if you've ever messed with someone's engines, they're going to look for you and beat you up. But they won't look anywhere more than ten feet from the engine themselves, because looking anywhere further is stupid.”

Hot Rod snorted and laughed at Redwing’s explanation.

“…Yeah, that’s fair, I suppose,” Hotlink admitted hesitantly. “Would’ve been nice to—I don’t know—warn us, though?”

“I have to kill my baby, so NO WARNINGS,” Redwing declared. Once he set the controls again, he went over to the pad and pulled out his teleportation cube and his sword. Once he was at the pad, he set the cube down, and with a grimace on his face, took his sword and ran the cube through.

“Wait, so… What does that do?” Shattered Glass Redwing asked.

“Well, see, I’m breaking one of the big rules of teleportation,” Redwing answered, going back to the controls. “Don't teleport a broken teleportation cube.”

“And why was that rule put in place, Redwing?” Hotlink asked.

“Well, because the end result is going to create… ummm… about a thousand mile mess?” Redwing guessed. “Maybe a few million miles? I don't know. However big a nebula is.”

“Sounds like exactly the type of mess Sandstorm likes,” Hot Rod commented.

“I feel attacked,” Sandstorm squinted.

Redwing continued to mess with the controls, and with a few more buttons the cube was gone. It was only a second later when the ship shuddered, and the lights flickered and died out, only to be replaced with red emergency lights. A robotic voice, the ship’s on-board computer, came over the ships loudspeaker and began to rattle off what had happened.

“Warning. Main computer system offline. Reverting to back up systems. All non-essential systems remain active. Weapon system, online. Life support, online. Teleportation system, online. Warp-Drive, disabled. Recommend reaching the nearest repair depot.”

“Congratulations, everyone. We broke it,” Redwing congratulated, though with the slight scowl on his face, it was clear that one of the things the ship declared didn’t make sense. “Why is the teleporter considered essential?”

“In place of escape pods, maybe?” Hot Rod guessed.

“I don't entirely see the logic in that,” Hotlink frowned.

“Well, heheh,” Redwing chuckled. “It's their loss. Because now I can control where people go.”

“So… What now?” Sandstorm asked.

“Run around and keep them on their toes?”alternate Redwing suggested.

“The weapons are still online,” Hot Rod reminded. “We need to take that out.”

“And by 'we', you mean 'us',” Hotlink amended, raising an optic ridge.

“Excuse me? Are you complaining that I'm keeping the kids in one of the almost nonexistent safe places on this ship so you all can fight without worry?” Hot Rod asked defensively.

“Fair point,” Hotlink conceded.

“Can we split up and take care of different things?” Sandstorm asked.

Sandstorm’s question didn’t get answered. Instead, the ship loudspeaker rang back to life, and the voice of Shattered Glass Optimus echoed through the room.

“I must congratulate you for your ingenuity. You have managed to surprise me with your… whatever you've done.”

“Thanks!” Redwing grinned, waving at the speaker system before turning back toward the console.

“But that will not stop us from our goals,” Optimus continued. “I have come too far to stop leading everyone on this ship to their true potential.”

“And I'm sick and fragging tired of slag-sucking trinkets like you messing with the universe!” Hot Rod snarled. “Shut up, you Optimus Prime repaint!”

Hotlink whistled, slightly surprised that Hot Rod would make the attempt to insult a speaker system that couldn’t hear him. Redwing was one thing, Hot Rod was another.

“But regardless,” Optimus continued, “I have a proposal for you. Since you all seem so bent on trying to stop us, I will give you the chance. Whoever is brave enough can come to the bridge, unopposed. If you can beat me, then you win. Think it over.” The comms clicked, signaling that the loudspeaker was turned off.

“I say we split up and cause more problems for his lying aft,” Redwing suggested.

“Agreed,” Hotlink confirmed.

“I'm going to go punch his windows in,” Hot Rod declared.

“Can you calm down?” Hotlink suggested.

“If you want me calm, then you won't get in my way as I go beat the tar out of that faker.”

“With the kids?”

“No, not with the kids!” the Autobot snapped.

“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Sandstorm asked. “What if this is a trap?”

“Hence the splitting up,” Redwing explained. “I can send you and Junior out and cause some distractions. Hotlink, you… do what you do. And I can go around breaking things, and I can take the kids! Hot Rod… Umm…”

“Ummm… Do you think you can take him on without the Matrix?” Sandstorm added.

“Alexis.” Hot Rod opened his view screen to let her out. “Go ahead and go with Redwing,” he told the little girl.

Alexis hesitated, looking at the sports car’s hood and grimacing with uncertainty. Eventually, she undid her seatbelt, and got out of him to go be with Redwing. Once she was near him, the red seeker knelt down and offered his hand for the girl to climb into. When she was steady in his palm, he moved the little girl onto his shoulder.

Hotlink next knelt down to grab the twins from the Autobot.

Once he was free of the children, Hot Rod transformed, and fixed Sandstorm with a hard, determined, and ticked off expression, his optic ridges furrowed and his mouth curled in a snarl. “Does this look like the face of mercy?” he asked, pointing to his own face. “I'm gonna make him regret existing. I didn't need the Matrix to teach Galvatron a lesson, and I sure don't need the Matrix now.”

“Wait, why are we offering him the Matrix?” Alternate Redwing inquired, looking between the group members with confusion.

“Redwing,” Sandstorm sighed, looking over to his trinemate. “Can you at least give it back to him?”

“No,” prime Redwing answered bluntly. “I can't give something to someone when they don't want it. That's just rude. But anyways, we're wasting time. Sandstorm, Junior, into the teleporter. You're going to the one place that hasn't been affected by capitalism. SPACE!”

“We already are in space,” Sandstorm reminded flatly.

“You're going further into space,” Hotlink clarified. “Have fun.”

“Will they be okay?” Alexis asked nervously.

“Funnily enough, they'll be safer out there than they are in here,” the engineer replied.

Shattered Glass Redwing made his way onto the teleportation pad, followed by Sandstorm. “So, why are we going outside?” alternate Redwing asked.

“To be annoying,” his counterpart answered. “Maybe break a gun or two.” With a few flicks of the switches, both seekers were off and away. Redwing turned to Hotlink. “Alright, Hotlink? Anywhere special you want to go?”

Hotlink thought for a moment before his optics lit up. He held out the twins for Redwing to hold. “Put me back in the engine room,” he requested.

“Oh,” Redwing realized, looking surprised at the request. He didn’t bother to argue with it, though, as he took the twins into his ams and shrugged. “Okay. Well, then in you go.”

Hotlink nodded, and stepped onto the teleportation pad, allowing Redwing to send him off with the controls.

“You gonna beam me to the bridge, or should I start wheeling my way there?” Hot Rod asked impatiently.

“I dunno,” Redwing answered with a cheeky grin. “What do you want to do?”

“I'd like to pound that faker's windows in as soon as possible,” the Autobot stated again. “Beam, please.”

“Can do,” Redwing encouraged. “In you go.” The seeker motioned to the pad while he worked on the controls.

“Be careful, Hot Rod…” Alexis warned.

“Don't you worry, Alexis,” Hot Rod said, giving the little girl an assuring smile. “This'll all be over before you know it.” He turned and stepped onto the teleporter, and gave Redwing a nod when he was ready.

“Beat him up good, love,” Redwing called as he activated the teleporter.

The look on Hot Rod’s face was priceless. He blinked and gaped at him, clearly not expecting Redwing to use such a pet name. He didn’t have a chance to respond, as the teleporter activated, sending the Autobot off to the bridge.

Alexis, on the other hand, immediately caught onto Redwing’s comment. “You love him??” she asked gleefully.

“N-Nah,” Redwing lied, fluttering his wings while trying not to look at the little girl. “Just something to get his motor going for the fight.”

Alexis let out a giggle, clearly not buying into Redwing’s fib.

“So, what should we do first?” Redwing asked to quickly change the subject. “Jettison a fleet's worth of fighters from the hanger? Send the bridge crew into all the toilets? Pick out a new home? OH! We could send all the active internal plumbing tubes to random parts of the ship!”

Any smile either of them were having was instantly washed away when the sensation of static electricity began to flow through both of them.

Alexis’s hair began to stand inside her helmet. “I don't like that…” she whimpered, hoping and wishing that everyone would be alright with their tasks.

Chapter Text

The bridge was bustling with activity, with Decepticons running to and fro trying to get the ship out of the nebula and back into sub-warp. Shattered Glass Optimus watched and glared at each and every one of the crew members as they worked, secretly shooting daggers of hate at each one of them for not getting the ship moving faster.

His attention was torn away from them when the sound of something materializing was heard from behind him. The crew paused in their tracks when they heard it too, and everyone turned to see an orange and magenta Hot Rod, standing on the other side of Optimus, the young mech looking surprised for about a microsecond, but then quickly changing his expression to be incredibly pissed off.

“Knock knock, glitch,” Hot Rod snarled after he fully materialized.

The dark Optimus merely chuckled. “I'm not surprised by your bravado. No matter what iteration you are, you have an ego too big for your head.” He turned slightly, and glanced back at the lower deck. “Ready the cannon. Target the nearest Autobot settlement,” he ordered.

The crew didn’t hesitate, as they got to work at their consoles and controls. It was the perfect opportunity for Hot Rod to sneak a glance out the main viewport. It looked like a haze of dust and dirt outside, like the ship was caught in some kind of sandstorm. His spark eased a bit when he saw one black and red jet, alongside a tan jet, taking off along the main hull towards the front of the Arbalest.

“I have an ego?” Hot Rod scoffed, trying to pull Optimus’s attention away from the viewport. “That's rich coming from a bot who calls himself a lord and savior.” He shifted his legs and got onto the balls of his peds, while he raised up his hands to get into a fighting stance. “Put up your dukes; we're dancing.”

Optimus turned back to Hot Rod and raised an optic ridge. “Dan-cee?” he asked, butchering the word. “I don't know what this dan-cee is, but this is not it.” He flexed his hand, and it retracted into his arm, allowing a flash of bright green, and an energon axe to replace it.

“SIR!” a soldier piped up from the lower deck. “We've just picked up two fighters on radar.”

Hot Rod grimaced. “Shut up, peon,” he shouted. “The adults are talking!” With a war cry, the sports car charged at Optimus with one of his fists raised to punch the dark Prime.

“Send out fliers to intercept them,” Optimus waved, unfazed by Hot Rod charging him. When the young Autobot was close enough, Optimus sidestepped the incoming punch, and swung his axe to cut down the attacker.

Hot Rod’s optics widened when he saw the incoming axe. He grimaced as he swiftly shifted his stance to hop out of the way. Once he was clear, he extended one of his arms and shot Optimus with his arm blasters. It seemed to work at first, seeing that Optimus grunted and staggered for a second, but then shifted his weight and wound back his arm and backhanded the young Autobot.

Hot Rod tumbled backwards and skidded a few feet from the impact. He was able to get to one knee and glare at Optimus, who still seemed unshaken from the tiny Autobot attacking him. Then, without warning, his comms sprang to life, and Sandstorm’s voice could be heard.

“There’s so many!!” the conehead exclaimed with panic in his voice.

“Don’t worry!” older Redwing replied. “I got you!”

Hot Rod took a chance to glance out the main viewport. Sandstorm and Shattered Glass Redwing weren’t alone anymore. There were dozens of Decepticon fliers shooting at the two seekers, with the purple light from their weapons lighting the nebula cloud like lightning in a storm. Hot Rod felt better when he saw many of the fliers disappeared in a flash of light. Redwing did have them, and was clearly having fun with the teleporter while doing so.

The young Autobot focused back on the fight he was in. He eyed Optimus and flexed his own hand, and it was replaced with his spinning blade. The blade whirred to life, and once it was at full speed, Hot Rod made another go at Optimus, moving to make several strikes onto the dark Prime.

Optimus squinted as he continuously dodged the spinning blade the best he could, taking several steps backwards to avoid being cut apart. It was all clearly to stall the tiny sports car, and over the whirring of the buzzsaw, Optimus heard one of the officers call to him.

“Sir, the cannon is ready to fire,” the officer declared.

Hot Rod made another go with his spinning blade, and nearly gasped when Optimus caught him by the wrist. He felt himself rise off the ground before he was tossed into one of the far walls. He yelped as he collided with the wall and fell onto the ground. After shaking himself from the toss, he quickly glanced upwards to lock optics with Optimus, seeing the evil smile behind the faceplate.

“Then fire,” Optimus bade with a grin.

“Brace yourselves!” Hotlink suddenly announced into Hot Rod’s comms.

Hot Rod blinked, but quickly glanced around and clasped onto a nearby railing just in time for the ship to suddenly shift. Thanks to his grip on the railing, Hot Rod only lifted off the ground slightly before he landed back on the floor, whereas the Arbalest crew were thrown off balance. The sports car glanced around the bridge when everything had calmed down, trying to catch what had happened. He grimaced when he heard Sandstorm on the comms.

“It… It fired…” the conehead gasped.

“No…” Shattered Glass Redwing breathed with dread.

“Everyone calm down,” older Redwing chimed in. “With a veer like this, the cannon missed.”

Hot Rod took another look around the bridge. Whatever Hotlink had done, it caused him and many others on the bridge to lose their footing and fall to the ground. Some of the officers had gotten back up and went to check their stations. Even Optimus was thrown, but quickly got back to his feet and glared at the crew members below for any sort of update.

One of the officers grimaced as he checked his console, and slowly turned to face the wrath of Optimus. “…The shell was off its mark… my Lord,” he winced.

Optimus growled, and then began to holler at the crew members below. “THEN LOAD IN THE NEXT SHELL! HAVE OUR FLIERS TAKE OUT OUR ENGINES, THEN USE THEM TO PUSH OUR SHIP BACK TO WHERE IT SHOULD BE!”

“But… my Lord,” another officer objected, “then we won’t be able to move our ship afterwards.”

“BUT AT LEAST WE WILL HAVE CONTROL OF MY SHIP!!!” the Prime reasoned loudly. “DO AS I COMMAND!!!”

Optimus was bellowing loud enough for the others on Hot Rod’s open comm channel to hear, because Hotlink snickered and added, “You’re welcome,” in a new tone full of glee.

Hot Rod took the opportunity to glance out the viewport again. The enemy fighters that weren’t taken care of by Redwing were pulling off of Sandstorm and Shattered Glass Redwing, flying under and around the bridge to make their ways aft-wards.

“They’re… firing on themselves?” Sandstorm questioned over the comms.

“I say don’t worry about them,” Shattered Glass Redwing suggested. “Focus on the main cannon. They’re probably going to try again.”

The young alternate had a point. As Hot Rod glanced around the bridge again, the crew were already back at their stations, and getting everything ready to continue what they had started. Which meant that if Hot Rod and the team wanted to stop them, now was the time.

Hot Rod let go of the railing he was holding onto and launched himself at Shattered Glass Optimus for the second time. This time, Optimus wasn’t looking, or either forgot about Hot Rod being there in the first place. Regardless, the young Autobot took the chance and rammed his shoulder into Prime’s back.

Optimus staggered from the impact, and braced himself on the nearby railing. Once he recovered, he swung around, outstretching his arm to hit whoever it was that rammed him.

Hot Rod was ready this time, ducking underneath the blow to avoid it, and then jabbing his saw blade right into Optimus’s grill, sending sparks flying and tearing off bits of metal as the saw dug its way into the twisted Autobot leader.

Optimus buckled this time, and grimaced as he felt the pain of the saw. With some considerable effort, he twitched his arm, deactivating his axe and replacing it with his hand. And with even more effort, grabbed Hot Rod’s saw hand, and gut punched Hot Rod, causing the tiny bot to wheeze and curl up as he fell to his knees.

[Outside the Arbalest]

Sandstorm and Shattered Glass Redwing were making another pass on the gun. They had hit the armor protecting the main barrel enough times that it was beginning to crack and chip away at this point. The Redwing alternate was doing the job, Sandstorm had to admit, but it was clear that hitting the armor over and over again was beginning to be boring to his partner.

With each pass, the Redwing alternate began doing more and more flight tricks, and began adding more and more flare with his attacks. It was only until the two of them passed by the bridge viewport that the alternate spoke up.

“Hot Rod is in trouble!” Shattered Glass Redwing declared when he saw what was going on inside.

“Slag…” Sandstorm swore under his breath. “We can't help him from out here. We have a job to do.”

The Redwing alternate fell silent for a moment, clearly feeling torn about the situation. After a few seconds, he finally spoke back up. “You’re right. We can’t help him. Not from out here.” Without another word, he tore away from Sandstorm and began to fly headlong at the main viewport of the bridge.

“No wait!” Sandstorm called. It was no use at this point. This Redwing was gone, leaving the conehead to work on the big cannon alone. “Primus…” he grumbled, returning back to his task and delivered another barrage of blaster fire to the cannon below.

[Back inside the Arbalest]

Shattered Glass Optimus hoisted Hot Rod up by the shoulders, and spun around fast enough to toss the sports car across the room a second time. Hot Rod tumbled a good distance, and he was still recovering from the last blow this Optimus had landed. Seeing that his opponent was down for a moment, Optimus turned back to the crew. “How long until we're back on target?” he demanded.

“The ship is beginning to turn back towards our target,” the chief officer answered. “But those two seekers are damaging our cannon.”

“Then fire the main guns on them!” Optimus ordered with exasperation, like it was the obvious thing to do.

“LOOK OUT!” a soldier cried out.

The two of them swung around to see what was going on. Both of their optics widened as they saw a black jet with red wings flying right towards the main viewport, not showing any indications of slowing down, and firing a barrage of blaster fire.

Both Optimus and a mostly recovered Hot Rod dived for the railing, grasping onto it just in time for Shattered Glass Redwing to come shooting through the viewport, allowing the vacuum of space to suck out any atmosphere, as well as anyone and anything unfortunate enough to not be gripping a solid foundation.

Hot Rod yelped a bit as he felt the strain of being pulled. He caught a bit of debris flying at him, and instinctually lowered his visor to protect his optics as plating and bits of metal came whipping by.

When it was over, the only ones left on the bridge were Hot Rod, Optimus, and Shattered Glass Redwing, the rest of the bridge crew floating helplessly out into the vacuum of space.

The seeker transformed and landed on the upper deck, drawing the Dark Saber from his holster, seemingly ready to fight anyone coming at him.

“Redwing!!” Hot Rod shouted as he carefully rose back to his feet. “Get back to the gun!!”

The alternate spun around, not to face Hot Rod, but to pause when he saw the dark Optimus Prime rising back to his feet, glaring at the sword wielder.

“Ah,” Optimus sighed, looking the heroic seeker over with annoyance. “One of you.” With a twitch of his hand, Optimus activated his energon axe again, and began to walk menacingly towards the alternate Redwing.

Shattered Glass Redwing’s optics widened as he saw Optimus, HIS Optimus, walking towards him. He took a couple steps back from the dark Prime as his wings began to sink out of fear, the Dark Saber shaking in his hands as he tried to keep it pointed at Optimus. He'd only heard of his Optimus before, but in person he was much more terrifying. He looked much taller, and much stronger than anyone had described to him before. The youngling could feel his ember racing, his legs becoming weak, and many of his servos freezing up. He didn’t know what to do. He got himself into this mess thinking that he could get himself out of it… But now that he was here… and now that he was standing in front of the evil Optimus Prime…

And then, out of the blue, the fear disappeared. Shattered Glass Redwing blinked. He was still alive, and Optimus was still walking toward him, but everything seemed okay now. It was a surprise to be sure, but it was even more surprising when Shattered Glass Redwing lowered the Dark Saber, letting its tip rest on the ground as Optimus was approaching. He didn’t know why he was doing it, either.

“Redwing,” Hot Rod gawked, “what are you doing?!”

The evil Optimus scoffed and leaped at the young seeker, raising his axe far above his head before bringing it down to cleave the seeker in half.

The young Redwing grimaced and closed his optics. He didn’t want to see his last moments. But he was able to feel a surge of energy coming from the sword now, and whether it was him or the Dark Saber, Shattered Glass Redwing took one last step backwards, and swung the blade upwards.

A wail echoed through the bridge. Surprised, Shattered Glass Redwing opened his optics just in time to see Optimus colliding with the ground, clutching a new nub of his arm, while his forearm was now missing. The seeker blinked and spun around, pausing when he saw the rest of Optimus’ arm, with a clean cut at the end where it should have been connected with the elbow.

Hot Rod couldn’t help but stare as all of this was going on. His glance continuously and rapidly switched between Shattered Glass Redwing, the evil Optimus, and the severed arm that laid before him. With a grunt, Hot Rod went to join the seeker.

Shattered Glass Redwing glanced at his sword in awe for a moment, and then gained a determined expression, swinging the sword around and pointing it at Optimus.

Optimus recoiled when he saw the blade that disarmed him now pointed in his direction. “NO!” he pleaded. “No, please! Don't kill me! Grant me mercy!”

“Denounce your crusade and admit defeat!” Hot Rod demanded, stopping beside the young warrior.

The room fell silent for what seemed like minutes. Optimus glared between Hot Rod and alternate Redwing, while the two of them returned the sentiment, casting their own glares at him. But then Optimus’s optics shifted to the consoles. He could see their displays from how he was crouching down. One of them in particular flashed green, indicating that the target planet was again within the cannon’s sights. He glanced up at the two mechs before him. He could barrel past them, and then hit the firing button. His victory would definitely be assured then.

“You really think you have bested me?” Optimus snarled. “If I can't have victory, then you can't either.” He swung his injured arm upwards, spraying energon and other oils into Shattered Glass Redwing’s face, causing the seeker to recoil and try to wipe the fluids off of himself. Once he was out of the way, Optimus bolted forward, and shoved Hot Rod out of the way as he made for the gun controls.

After he recovered, Hot Rod glanced at Optimus, and saw what he was going for. As quick as he could, he transformed, sped up to stop the evil Optimus. The Prime was already over the railing and only a few feet from the console, when Hot Rod jumped between the railing bars, and rammed into the back of Optimus, staggering the dark figure, and causing him to stumble onto the controls, and more particularly, the firing button.

[Back outside the Arbalest]

Sandstorm had already made a couple more runs on the cannon after Shattered Glass Redwing had left. He was coming around a third time when he noticed the lack of armor being chipped away. He stopped and transformed, going closer to the cracks in the armor to get a better look to see what he could do. He sighed slightly, and went to his comms.

“Hey, Hotlink, is there anything on those schematics that I can hit to destroy this gun?” the conehead asked. “It feels like I'm not doing anything.”

“Have you been aiming for the welding bolts?” the engineer asked. “That thing is super heavy. If you take those out, it ought to tear away.”

“I have been,” Sandstorm replied with mild exasperation as he began moving away from the ship. “This is taking too long. Is there, like, a fuel line I can hit— WHOA!”

Without warning, an off-white jet with blue tail fins and red stripes flew by Sandstorm, causing the conehead to jump at the jet’s sudden appearance. He stayed motionless as he watched the jet fly around with curiosity.

“Sandstorm?” Hotlink called over comms. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” Sandstorm answered, keeping an optic on the new jet as it flew around. “So… the fuel line?”

“Hm,” Hotlink hummed as he looked up the information that Sandstorm was asking for. “Yeah, there's a major fuel line that can do some massive damage if you clog it. Back of the cannon shaft, and running between the welding bolts and the loading tube.”

“Right…” Sandstorm hopped off the comms and gave the new white jet a second look. The new jet seemed docile. It wasn’t going after Sandstorm or anything. It was just flying around. After a second, Sandstorm transformed and went back to making runs on the cannon.

It took Sandstorm a few runs to find the fuel lines that Hotlink was talking about. But, after some of the hull was blasted away, there they were. With one more run, Sandstorm fired at them, causing them to rupture, and burst in a blaze of pink fire. The conehead flew around to make another run on the line, when he saw the piping bursting and changing color, and felt a chill as he saw the cannon beginning to fire its second shot.

Instinctually, Sandstorm whipped around, and booked it away from the cannon as fast as he could, just in time for the cannon to burst, and an explosion to occur. The resulting shockwave sent Sandstorm out of control and further away from the wrecked warship.

Sandstorm tumbled through space for a second before stabilizing himself and spinning back around. He gaped when he saw what had happened to the ship itself. The warship was split in two, with the cannon drifting away from the main ship itself. He slowed his approach just to take in the sight of the damaged Arbalest.

“Guys…” Sandstorm commed after a moment. “We did it. The ship is completely split in two.”

Hotlink cheered uncharacteristically. “Great job, team!”

“Yeah… Holy Primus… that was… wow,” Sandstorm let out, watching the front half of the ship drifting away into the nebula.

[Back inside the Arbalest]

Optimus shook himself and glanced upwards to look out the main viewport. He gasped when he saw the cannon drifting away, and the feeling of victory getting further and further away with it.

“No… No no no…” Optimus breathed with disbelief. “This wasn't how it was supposed to be.”

And then a white jet came into focus. A white jet with red stripes and blue tail fins.

Optimus’ optics widened, and he stumbled backwards in fear, falling onto his aft and continuing to try to get away from the viewport and the jet he saw approaching quickly. “No… No, please!” he pleaded a second time. “Have mercy!”

Shattered Glass Redwing rushed up to the railing to see what Optimus was freaking out about. He squinted in confusion. “What?” he asked, trying to connect what was happening.

“Idiot,” a snake-like voice echoed through the bridge.

Hot Rod transformed and squinted out the viewport. The jet looked… familiar. Eerily familiar. Out of the corner of his optic, he saw a green light envelop Optimus, and before the sports car could react, Optimus was gone. He whipped back around in time, to see the white jet turn away, and then jump to warp-speed, leaving a tube of empty space within the nebula.

 “Was that…?” Hot Rod mumbled as he tried to process the events. “But that can't be right…”

“Huh?” the alternate Redwing asked. “What was that?”

“I… I'll talk about it later once we're safe,” the Autobot deflected. “Let's get out of here first.”

Hot Rod and Shattered Glass Redwing’s comms beeped to life, and Hotlink could be heard.

“We got a meet up point?” the engineer asked.

“Alexis and I are going to the hanger to find a resupply ship for our personal use,” prime Redwing answered. “You could probably meet us at the hanger. OR we could pick up Hot Rod and Junior at the bridge?”

“I'll meet you at the hanger,” Hotlink responded.

“I'm going to check on Hot Rod and Redwing,” Sandstorm decided. After a few seconds, Hot Rod and Shattered Glass Redwing saw the conehead fly through the broken viewport and transform to join them on the ground. “Everyone alright?” he asked.

“Yep,” Hot Rod nodded, despite the added dings and nicks on his armor. “Nice job, Sandstorm! Man, I wish I'd gotten footage of Redwing here, though. You should've seen him deal with that nut job!”

“Cool!” Sandstorm complimented.

“So, what now?” Alternate Redwing asked. “Do we go after them?”

“No way in Unicron's acid pits,” Hot Rod refused. “We leave them alone. We barely got out of this as is. Come on, let's go meet up with the others in the hanger and get the slag outta Dodge.”

“Dodge?” the two young seekers asked in unison.

“It’s an Earth saying,” Hot Rod waved as he began to head towards the bridge exit. “I think it’s a city.”

Alternate Redwing and Sandstorm turned and glanced at each other. The younger Redwing shrugged, and both of them followed Hot Rod out of the bridge.

[A bit earlier, at the teleportation room]

Prime Redwing flipped a few controls on the teleportation panel with a grin on his face. Once he was done, he brushed off his hands.

“Now, while everyone else is wrapping up,” he glanced over to Alexis sitting on his shoulder, “I say we find a nice resupply ship to call home. Whatcha think?”

Alexis nodded, situating herself to rest comfortably inside Redwing’s vent. “Let’s go.”

In one swift motion, Redwing scooped up the twins and waltzed out of the room, beginning to wander the halls to find where the main hanger was. They wandered for a bit, glancing in recharge rooms, waste disposal chambers, and supply rooms just to try and find where this place kept their smaller ships.

After glancing into another hall of useless rooms, Redwing turned down another hall and began to make his way through it, when suddenly, a sharp guttural scream sounded from behind him, and something jumped onto his back, causing Redwing to stagger and bend over a bit. Alexis shrieked as she began to fall, but Redwing whipped his hand upwards and caught her before she left the vent. Slowly, Redwing got back upwards, but kept stopping every now and again when something kept hitting his back. When he fully stood back up, he glanced behind and saw a female cybertronian repeatedly hitting his back with something.

“What? What is this?” Redwing asked as he tried to figure out what was going on behind him.

“Die...! Die! DIE!! KEEL!! OVER!!!” the female screamed, her attacks becoming more erratic as her blows became faster and more dangerous.

Redwing groaned and rolled his optics at the lunatic’s request. The next time something hit his back, Redwing twisted, keeping the twins and Alexis close while he did so. This threw the female attacking him, causing her to tumble some ways before coming to a stop. Redwing’s optics squinted when he realized who was attacking him. “Hotlink?”

The femme glanced upwards and glared at the red seeker. “Lifeline,” she snarled, clutching the knife in her hand even tighter. “I’m Lifeline! And I’m going to make sure you die!”

“Okay, just so you’re aware, I can't die,” Redwing reasoned. “Also, you're terrifying. You’re scaring the kids. Stop that. I’m not good with crying newborns.”

“JUST!! BLEED!!” Lifeline shrieked as she got back to her feet and rushed at the seeker, brandishing her knife.

“Kinky fembot,” Redwing huffed, turning to the wall and placing the children on the ground, out of the way. Once they were down and secure, the seeker stood back up in time for Lifeline to spring right on top of him and attack Redwing with her knife.

Alexis watched in horror as Redwing took blow after blow from the knife, and was seemingly unfazed by being attacked. In a desperate attempt to get away, Alexis began to coax the twins to follow her further away from the crazed femme.

“I'm… curious,” Redwing spoke up after a few stab wounds. “What do you think you are going to feel if you do kill me?”

“RELIEF!!” Lifeline shrieked again. “DIE!!”

The femme made another plunge with her blade, but gasped when Redwing whipped his hand upwards and caught the female’s arm, holding her in place. “Okay, those are contradictions. Well… Actually, there is relief in death… It's not relief I can have. I can give it to you if you want,” the seeker offered.

Lifeline let out a growl and made an attempt to yank her arm out of Redwing’s grasp. “It's far too late for my desire of that!” she hissed as she made another pull. “It is gone!”

“Uh huh—” Without warning, the ship jolted, and Redwing didn’t get to visit his sentence. He and Lifeline were knocked off their feet, and both of them fell flat on their backs.

Alexis shrieked as she also fell to her feet, and the twins began to cry out of confusion.

From out of nowhere, Alternate Sandstorm appeared, rushing over to Lifeline and leaning in to check her over.

“Lifeline, we need to fall back!” he warned. “The ship!”

“He needs to die!!” Lifeline snarled as she made an attempt to get back up. She didn’t get the chance, as Shattered Glass Sandstorm hoisted her into his arms and straightened up.

“Later!” he grunted before promptly bolting from the scene with the femme in his hold. She was utterly livid, letting out a scream of fury from being pulled away from her revenge. And then suddenly, a green light enveloped them, and they were whisked away by some unseen power, leaving Redwing and the children by themselves.

“Well, that solves that?” Redwing blinked as he watched them teleport away.

“…Is it over…?” Alexis whimpered as she got back up to her feet.

“I… don't know,” the seeker answered as he got up to his feet and wiped away some of the energon leaking from his wounds. “But that doesn't change the fact that we need a new home.” He walked over to the children and leaned down to pick them up. “So let's go find one.”

“Yeah…” Alexis agreed shakily as she scrambled into Redwing’s hand.

Once the little girl was secure, Redwing took off to find the hanger again. It took the group a bit, but they eventually found it. It was probably the largest room in the ship, which made sense, considering that there were so many ships of different shapes and sizes housed throughout the room.

“Now, where do they keep the cargo ships?” Redwing pondered aloud as they looked around.

A few moments later, Hotlink showed up. He was sporting a new coat of grease and dirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He joined Redwing, and gently took the twins from him as they were looking around.

“Not much of a selection,” the engineer commented. “How about that one?” He pointed to a large blocky ship, with a black and red color scheme, torpedo tubes at the front, and trio of engine exhausts.

“Hmmmmmmm.…” Redwing hummed as he gave the ship a good look. “Too dark. It'll need a repaint.”

Hotlink rolled his optics at the judgement, and went over to the boarding ramp controls to try and get the ship open. As he was working, Hot Rod, Sandstorm, and Shattered Glass Redwing came in and found the seekers and children at the base of the ship.

Older Redwing turned to the new arrivals. “So, how'd your fight with the tall plum go?” he asked, holding out the hand that held Alexis so that the little girl could jump over to Sandstorm and give the conehead a nuzzle.

“Oh, you know,” Hot Rod shrugged. “Could’ve been better, could’ve been worse. But we won! Thanks to Redwing, here.” He gestured to the alternate Redwing.

Older Redwing turned and gave his alternate a once over. “Okay, so now that I have a chance to say it, we both can’t be called Redwing. I was Redwing first in this story, so you’ve got to get a different name.”

Shattered Glass Redwing recoiled in offense. “Why do I have to get a new nickname? I am Redwing! That’s my name!”

“Yeah, I know,” Redwing sympathized, “but if anyone reads this story they’re going to get the two of us mixed up. And I already cause too much confusion around me as it is.”

“Just go with it,” Sandstorm advised.

The alternate huffed and sighed as he tried to wrestle with the idea.

“How about we just shorten your name?” Hot Rod suggested. “Instead of Redwing we just call you Red?”

After some thought, the alternate sighed and relented with a, “Yeah, fine…”

“Cool,” Redwing grinned. “So, you beat Optimus? How? Give me the juicy details.”

“I cut off his arm,” Red answered.

“You cut off his ARM!!!” Redwing gasped, optics wide with enthusiasm. “Where is it???”

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge at the eccentric seeker. “Somewhere on the bridge still? I think?”

Redwing paused as he glanced between Hot Rod and Red. “You mean to tell me. That the first Paladin of the New Golden Age. LEFT A TROPHY OF HIS ACCOMPLISHMENTS?!?”

“Paladin of What?” Red asked with exasperation.

“I'll be right back.” Without another word, Redwing dashed away, leaving the group alone.

“More of his eccentrism at work, I guess,” Hot Rod assumed with a shrug. “Just go with it.”

“So… taking arms… is normal?” Red inquired with a confused squint, trying to wrap his head around what Redwing had said.

“That’s not even the weirdest thing we’ve encountered,” Hot Rod informed. “There’s a lot of weird stuff in the universe, kid. Stick with us and you’ll see them.”

“Oh!” Red gasped. “I-I can go with you???”

“Well, sure,” the Autobot smiled. “Where else are you gonna go? Besides, Redwing's really taken a shine to you. And I'm sure the others will, as well.”

“I already have,” Sandstorm stated.

“Me too!” Alexis chimed in. “You really helped me out in the you-know-where!”

“I… I mean,” Red stammered. “I don't want to be in the way of your adventures.”

“Hey, Sandstorm,” Hotlink called. “Give me a hand with this.”

Sandstorm left to go help the engineer with the controls. After a few minutes of waiting, Redwing returned, raising the arm of the dark Optimus Prime high above his head.

“I'm back!” he called out as he returned.

“Hey, tell Junior, here, that he won't get in the way and he should come with us,” Hot Rod suggested to Redwing.

“Get in the way?” Redwing blinked, turning to his alternate and looking at him in confusion. “No, he won't get in the way. He's my replacement.”

“There, see?” the Autobot assured. And then what was just said clicked within his processor. He gave Redwing a double take and squinted when what the seeker said finally set in. “Excuse me??”

“Yeah. He's replacing me in the trine.”

“B-But their your trine!” Red argued.

“I mean… kinda. But you'd make a better trinemate for them.”

“But… Wait, then what are you going to…?” Hot Rod questioned. “What does that mean for you?”

“What do you mean?” Redwing asked flatly. “I'm not going anywhere. Someone needs to keep all of you on your toes.”

“Geez,” the Autobot let out with a breath of relief. “You had me going there for a moment.”

At that moment, the ship that Hotlink and Sandstorm were fiddling with hissed, and everyone turned to see it open, watching as the ship extended a boarding ramp that descended and allowed everyone to enter.

“Guess we should join them,” Hot Rod suggested.

“Hopefully this one has closets,” Redwing commented. He began to walk towards the ramp, playing with the arm as he went.

“Does he… worry you often?” Red asked, glancing over at the Autobot.

“Worry, confuse, he plays with my head on purpose. But…” The sports car paused, and gained a soft, fond expression as he watched Redwing, who jumped with a start when he activated the energon axe in Optimus’ hand. “…there's a certain charm to him,” Hot Rod continued. “He's… fun.”

Red also watched Redwing as he thought about what Hot Rod said. “Fun… Huh.”

Hot Rod continued to stare at Redwing for a few seconds before shaking himself out of his trance and giving Red a light and playful smack to the seeker’s arm. “Now just because you're going to be his replacement, that doesn't mean you have to act just like him,” he told Red. “You be you.”

“Oh, um… Okay,” Red nodded.

“Good man,” Hot Rod said, giving a thumbs up before he began to jog toward the entrance ramp to catch up with Redwing.

Red stared at the group for a moment, taking in his new family as they all got together and began to enter the new ship. He smiled, and then picked up his pace to join them, looking forward to galavanting with them on their adventures.

[Within The Ship]

The group split up to inspect the inside of the ship. Red and Hot Rod went in one direction, Redwing, unsurprisingly, went into the ceiling, and Hotlink and Sandstorm went down in another direction.

Hotlink and Sandstorm just glanced into any of the rooms they encountered as they made their way to the command deck. No workrooms though, so one of the rooms would need to be redone, or space in the cargo area would need to be converted.

“Hm. Bigger than our last one,” Hotlink commented. “Plenty of charging stations. What do you think? Looks good?” He turned to Sandstorm to get his opinion.

“I mean, I don't see anything wrong with it,” Sandstorm nodded, though it was clear he didn’t know what he was looking for.

“It’s kinda dark,” Alexis observed, peering around from her spot on Sandstorm’s shoulder.

Hotlink nodded at their responses, and the two continued to make their way through the recharge rooms and eventually arrived at the command deck. It was simple. One viewport, a wrap-around control panel surrounding two chairs, one for a pilot and one for a co-pilot.

Hotlink gave the room a quick glance. “Mhm. Okay, hold the kids, please?” He held out the twins to the conehead. “I'm going to get this puppy fired up.”

“Sure,” Sandstorm nodded. He watched Hotlink take the command chair, and then he took the remaining chair and sat down, holding the twins securely, rather than putting them in the chair on their own.

Once Sandstorm was secure, Alexis relaxed as well, leaning into Sandstorm’s helm and closing her eyes.

“I'm so tired now…” Sandstorm let out, taking in a deep intake and then letting it out in a yawn.

“Mhm…” Alexis agreed with a hum.

“I'm not surprised,” Hotlink said as he worked with the controls. “And just think! This is a normal day for the Autobots and Decepticons back on Cybertron!”

“This a normal day?” Sandstorm scoffed. “No thanks.”

“Yep, another reason why Redwing and I decided it was a good idea to bail. So! How do you feel about your first real battle? You did really well, I think.”

At that moment, Red and Hot Rod entered the bridge, followed by Redwing dropping from a vent in the ceiling.

“Y'know,” Redwing spoke as he glanced around the bridge, “if this is going to be our new home, we need to give it a name.”

“New Hope,” Hot Rod offered.

“Cheesy,” Hotlink stated without looking up from the controls.

“You don't even know what it's from!” the Autobot protested.

“Still cheesy, and we're not naming it that,” the engineer said obstinately.

“Well, what's your suggestion?” Hot Rod prodded.

“Endurance.”

“What about…” Sandstorm thought for a moment. “Guiding Light?”

“Beacon,” Red offered.

“New Hope, Endurance, Guiding Light, Beacon…” Redwing repeated, thinking about all the options. He looked over at Alexis, and gently poked her to stir her from going to sleep. “What do you think? Do you have a name?”

Alexis opened her eyes blearily, and let out a “Mm…” just as she was on the verge of passing out.

“Do you just want to sleep?” Hot Rod asked gently.

“No, I can help…” Alexis sat up a bit before thinking. “Hm… Maybe a name that mixes all of you together.”

Hot Rod nodded at the suggestion, and looked around at everyone. “Something that mixes all of us together. Let's see… Sandstorm, Hotlink, Redwing, Hot Rod… Heartburn, Heatstroke…” He fell silent for a moment, pondering on what linked the team together, when suddenly he perked up and snapped his fingers. “Desert Heat!” he declared.

A chorus of approvals came from each of the seekers, and even Alexis gave a thumbs up before leaning back into Sandstorm’s helm to doze off once more.

“Great!” Hot Rod smiled. “Desert Heat it is!”

“Glad that's decided,” Hotlink said as he worked the controls of the ship. “Everyone secure yourselves. We're leaving this mess far behind.”

Hot Rod and Red grabbed hold of the console as the ship began to take off and pass through the bridge barrier, flying into open space. Redwing, however, continued to stay standing as he resumed playing with the Optimus arm.

“We will need to get the ship a new paint job,” Redwing suggested. “I don't like the color scheme.”

“How about we do that another day?” Sandstorm said, leaning backwards into the chair and closing his optics. “Some of us need sleep.”

“Not like we can do it right now, considering we're in flight,” Hotlink reminded. “Let me get us to cruising speed, then you can go grab a charging unit.”

“Oh, we'll need to see if there's any cloths or something for Alexis to use,” Hot Rod remembered. “I can do that if you want, Sandstorm.”

“I don't think Decepticons had humans in mind when it came to these things,” Redwing proposed. “BUT I can grab a bed and a change of clothes. I'll be right back.” Again, without another word, he dashed away.

“How… is he going to get a bed and clothes?” Sandstorm squinted though weary optics.

“Probably from the Library,” Red shrugged.

“…The what?” Sandstorm asked flatly.

Red’s optics widened as he realized what he said. “Uh…”

Alexis sat up quickly, opening her eyes and pointing at Red warningly. “Shhhh…” she hissed.

Hot Rod turned his head to look at her when she warned Red. “Do you know something about that?”

“It's a secret…” the little girl whispered.

“That's just more suspicious,” Hotlink commented.

“Shhhh…” the ten year old hissed again.

“I mean… There technically isn't a rule to talk about it… I think?” Red guessed.

“Redwing said they can't know yet…” Alexis reminded.

“…He's fragging letting the ten year old human in on his secrets, but not us,” Hotlink huffed. “Unbelievable.”

“Yes,” Redwing declared, walking back into the room with a bed and clothes in his hands. “Because the ten year old broke in and I couldn’t do anything about it. I would bring some of you in, but you're not ready to try new things.”

“Hey, if you hadn't shown her, I'm willing to bet our kids wouldn't be here right now,” Hot Rod reminded. “Neither would Red. I'll take it.”

“That's true…” Hotlink sighed. He pulled on some of the controls and the ship slowed its pace, allowing Hotlink to turn to the little girl on Sandstorm’s shoulder. “You were very brave today, Alexis,” he praised.

“I didn't feel brave… I felt so scared… I thought…” Alexis grimaced as tears began to well up under her eyes. “I thought I lost you all, too…” She sniffed and quietly burst into tears. “I thought I was alone again…! I didn't know what to do…!” she sobbed, nuzzling into Sandstorm’s helm.

“Alexis…” Hot Rod murmured gently, giving the little girl a sympathetic expression.

“It's okay,” Sandstorm soothed, leaning in to comfort her. “We're here now. It's all over.”

“…Yeah. Anyways,” Redwing interrupted, “we need to set up Alexis' room.”

“Give us a moment, Redwing,” Sandstorm huffed, fixing the seeker with a glare.

“Here, I'll help,” Hot Rod offered as he approached Redwing.

Hotlink turned in his chair and leaned in to whisper to Red. “Can't remember if we told you this, but Sandstorm found her alone after her city on a colony planet was destroyed by Galvatron's troops. Poor thing lost her creators.”

“Oh…” Red uttered with realization, the context making him wince.

Hotlink nodded. “It's little wonder why she's so attached to Sandstorm. Thanks for helping the kids out, by the way. It seriously means a lot.”

“No problem,” Red smiled. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Which way to the charging stations?” Hot Rod called over.

“Oh,” Redwing grinned. “Are you looking for some alone time with me?”

Hot Rod smirked back. “Oh? Are you interested?” he teased.

“Oh boy…” Hotlink groaned as he shook his head. “Better get used to this back and forth, kid.”

“Huh?” Red squinted and tilted his head to the side.

“Hot Rod makes it no secret that he likes Redwing,” Hotlink grumbled. “And Redwing doesn't know what to do about it.”

“Oh.”

“No!” Redwing denied like a liar. “I was just asking a question!”

“Shame,” the Autobot sighed. “In all seriousness, I figured we should get her set up in that room so she can continue to sleep by Sandstorm. Like she did in our last ship.”

“Oh, fine. If you insist.” Redwing held out the bed and clothes for Hot Rod to take. “You are Prime, after all.”

“What?” Red blinked.

“Ah. That's right. Scrap, I'm so used to people knowing.” Hot Rod turned and faced Red. “So you know how you and your previous team were looking for this world's Optimus and I said his business is my business?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, that's because I'm the next Matrix-bearer. I'm Hot Rod right now, but with the Matrix I assume the name Rodimus Prime.”

Red fell silent, and his mouth hung open as he stared at Hot Rod. He blinked a couple of times, but if he was trying to say anything, it didn’t come out.

“Congratulations, guys,” Redwing cheered. “We broke the new guy.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Hotlink shrugged.

“Yeah, you guys were actually really close,” Hot Rod continued. “Your teammates realized it, so I assumed you knew, too. I mean, you weren't around, but I figured Redwing would have told you.”

“Huh. Funnily enough, he didn't mention that!” Red huffed, shooting Redwing a dirty look.

“It didn't need to come up,” Redwing shrugged.

Hotlink cleared his throat loud enough to catch the others’ attention. They all turned to the engineer, who pointed over to the co-pilot’s seat, where Sandstorm and Alexis sat, both of whom were done with their moment and were now on the verge of falling asleep again.

“Sleepy passengers,” Hotlink reminded.

Hot Rod nodded, and moved over to Sandstorm. He patted the conehead’s arm to get him stirring one last time. “Up, up, Dad,” the sports car prompted. “Let's get you and Alexis to bed.”

“Huh?” Sandstorm stirred, quickly remembering where he was. “Oh… Yeah…” He groaned as he slowly stood up so as to not knock Alexis off his shoulder.

“I set the oxygen levels, so Alexis should be okay to take off that suit,” Hotlink informed as he took the twins from out of Sandstorm’s arms.

“Thanks, Hotlink,” Hot Rod nodded. With that, he began to usher Sandstorm and Alexis out of the bridge and moved them to one of the charging rooms.

Once a room was chosen, Hot Rod entered, and set up the bed close to the charging station and set the clothes on it. “Here we are. One for Dad and one for Daughter.” He turned back to Sandstorm and carefully took the little girl off her father’s shoulder, assisting her out of the space suit before tucking her in to bed. Once the girl was comfortable, the Autobot laid her clothes on the bed, and left the two to rest.

Sandstorm shuffled his way to the recharge station, and laid down just as Alexis was getting settled. He closed his optics one last time before Alexis called over.

“Daddy…?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you,” the little girl murmured softly.

Sandstorm smiled. “I love you too.”