RCV. Autobot Base and the Sign Nexus. Little Feet

[ssjmihoshi]

((This is a long one! Bring a sammich.))





Ironhide: *joints creaking audibly as he opens the door to his and Chromia's living room and walks over to look into the 'nest' at the top of the tower of concrete blocks that he built beside his armchair the day before. Wants to see if Blackwing has powered up yet, or what the youngster is doing before he goes and has an oil bath*

Blackwing: *currently in beast mode, curled up into a ball of fur and feathers as he snoozes lightly amongst all the fluffy things*

air mattress: *lying outside the nest, popped and deflated*

Ironhide: *slight smile as he looks at the ball of fluff that his sensors easily let him see through all the blankets and pillows that he and Chromia got from the humans' laundry area, and the carnival lion that belongs to Bumblebee. But then he realizes that something's missing, and that he can feel something other than concrete under his foot... Looks down and sighs as he spots the air mattress* Oh great. Danny's going to have a #$&(@##$ fit.

Blackwing: *stirs at the voice, causing the blankets to move as he sleepily rolls over and puts one paw over his face* *doesn't want to get up yet*

Ironhide: *quiet and reassuring rumbling as he stoops to pick up the air mattress. Glances toward the picture of Starforge that's up on the wall as he straightens. Quietly tells the image of his lost youngling good morning, as he always does when he first comes in here every day*

Blackwing: *is that purple beak poking out of the pile*

Chromia: *peers through the door as she fiddles with her towel* How is he?

Ironhide: *absently* Sleeping. He broke Danny's mattress.

Chromia: >.o Slag. I think I have enough to buy another one.

Ironhide: I can probably get Ratchet to repair this. *looks into the nest again as he turns to go, once more making that soft and soothing rumble*

Blackwing: *chirps softly and disappears into the fluff*

Ironhide: *surprised chuckle* Are you awake?

Blackwing: *groans like any teen roused too early*

Ironhide: *recognizes the sound and chuckles again* Get some more sleep. We'll be back from the bath in half an hour.

Blackwing: *turns over again*

Ironhide: *rumbles and turns to leave the room, softly closing the door behind him*

Chromia: *reaches up to put both arms around his neck*

Ironhide: *rests his forehead against hers, but then looks up with irritation as he hears Ratchet's tread approaching*

Ratchet: *carrying that look that says he hasn't been awake enough to be rightly agitated, but he's preparing his annoyed face early just in case*

Ironhide: *low voice, but still growly* He's sleeping. Don't bother him.

Chromia: Are you and Jazz going this morning, Ratchet?

Ratchet: *looks up from his thoughts to find the pair in close proximity, and is slightly apologetic* Oh! Sorry. *collects himself, putting his scowl back on* Yes, as soon as he's done... *stinkeye in the direction of Jazz's room*

Ironhide: *ponders for what would be a long two beats to a Cybertronian, and then facepalms* It's a good thing it's hard to tell when he's drunk, or we'd have Fat Aft yelling twice as often since he and Recon bonded.

Ratchet: *grunts in amusement* You know, I wonder if Galloway has a mate. I'd hate to see the woman who'd marry a stiff like him.

Ironhide: *thinks about it* *then snorts*

Chromia: He's single. He just acts like he knows all about being paired. *pokes out her glossa and then rests her head against Ironhide's chest for a moment to hear his spark and fuel pump beat. Little smile*

Ironhide: *holds still so he doesn't disturb her, but lifts the hand with the dead mattress in it* Can you repair this?

Ratchet: *blinks for a nanoclick before taking the mattress, poking at it in his hand* Yes, but it'll have to wait until we get back. *smiles up at Ironhide* Did Blackwing manage to shred it?

Ironhide: Yup. Then he threw it out and slept on the pillows.

Chromia: *little grin at the sound of Ironhide's voice rumbling in his chest*

Ratchet: *chuckles, then sobers* How is the youngling?

Ironhide: Chirpy, but tired. I told him we'd come back after our bath to see if he was ready to get up then.

Ratchet: *small smile at the seeming normality* Has he eaten anything?

Ironhide: His cookie and biscuit, and then he got a couple handfuls of toppings off a slice of pizza.

Chromia: *chuckles at memory of the youngster's reaction to the pickles on the pizza*

Ratchet: *nods, rumbling* Good, good. Any more short-circuits?

Ironhide: No. *perks as he hears the door to Jazz and Recon's quarters open*

Ratchet: *straightens, subspacing the mattress for later* Finally. *turns back to Ironhide and Chromia* Don't let me keep you. I'll be back later.

Jazz: *soft protesting as Mutt drags him out of the room by the hand* Hey, man. When I set that alarm I didn' mean manhandle me!

Ironhide: *blinks, then snerks*

Chromia: *looks over her shoulder and starts laughing*

Recon: *from inside the room* I might start to like sat sing after all!

Ratchet: *smirks, enjoying the show*

Jazz: What?? *looks over his shoulder* But, baby, he's interruptin' our cuddlin'!

Ironhide: *rumbling laughter now and enjoying Jazz's predicament as much as Ratchet*

Recon: I've been trying to get you out sat door since Ratchet knocked 10 minutes ago!

Jazz: *wibble*

Ironhide: *wheezing with the force of his laughter*

Chromia: *griiin*

Mutt: *has master out of the room. Sits down and looks at him now*

Recon: *voice still stern, but she has a warm smile as she stands by the doorframe* I'll be here vhen you get back. Now go. *turns to the drone* He can stay. *pats its head*

Mutt: *wagga tail and offer a paw*

Jazz: *deep sigh and hangdog expression as he turns and walks toward Ratchet, but he lovebombs his mate over their bond as they go* Hey, Ratch. I needta grab some fuel at the Dog while we're there.

Ratchet: Alright, I wouldn't mind some java mysel- *pauses as he sees a cinnabun fly towards the back of the CO's helm*

Jazz: *caught the warning over the bond and whirls to catch the flying treat* Ya do love me! :D :D :D

Ironhide: *so much laughter*

Recon: *lovebombs in return and goes back inside with the drone to get ready for her shift*

Ratchet: *chuckles* I still want that java though.

Jazz: 'N I still wanna big heap 'a scrambles. You got any money?

Ironhide: *snorts and hauls his mate off toward the baths*

Ratchet: *grumbles as he pulls out his PINpoint* I'm not letting you have the last of my poker winnings. Buy your own dang scrambles.

Jazz: *gives him a funny look* I gave you all I had fer Mutt's parts.

Ratchet: *rolls optics* I'm sure someone will buy you breakfast if you ask. *presses the button and they're transported to the Black Dog*

hsvOptimus: *looks over from where he's sitting on the bench on the porch talking to a TFA style Ratchet* Hello, Ratchet and Jazz.

Diehard: *chirrups at the pair from where he's draped over his daddy's shoulder. Is just four foot of little parts and big blue optics*

Jazz: Heyya, Op! *grins and looks through the door*

Ratchet: Good morning. *nods and smiles in acknowledgment*

Diehard: Morning! *laughs* Gonna eat? Omnom?

Ratchet: *laughs* Have you eaten yet?

Diehard: Just tookie. Daddy talkin' to Unca Ratch. *pauses and considers* 'Nother Unca Ratch. *yup, this little baby guy knows you're not his big yellow eyesore, Ratchet*

Ratchet: We have someone to talk to as well. So I'm afraid I must go.

Diehard: *chirrups and clicks rapidly, plainly too excited by waving good bye to remember English*

hsvOptimus: Perhaps we'll meet again, Ratchet.

tfaRatchet: *snorts, but he's grinning at his alt*

Ratchet: *smirks at his alt before giving Jazz a friendly punch on the shoulder* Come on, Jazz. Show me that Maximal bartender of yours.

Jazz: Jes' gimme a minute. *just now noticed which Optimus that is and has to go over and ask him how the racing's been and how his twin brothers are*

Ratchet: *sighs and pulls up a chair*

hsvOptimus: *looks over toward Ratchet with compassion in his optics, then returns his attention to Jazz* We can talk again another time, Jazz. Do you need some funds?

Jazz: *startled chuckle as hsvOptimus sees right through him* Ah. Yeah. Gave Ratch the last yesterday.

hsvOptimus: Why do Jazzes never learn not to play poker with Ratchets?

Jazz: What? No! I don't play with him!

tfaRatchet: *slapping his leg as he laughs*

Diehard: *clickstorm!* :D

Ratchet: *laughs too* No, you play with me. And half the base. Don't think that youngling is going to distract us from your debts forever.

Jazz: I ain't played poker with you in months! And besides. You got all my money. It's in yer parts bin.

hsvOptimus: *grinning as he watches*

Ratchet: *grins wider as he leans in* Yes, but you still owe Epps that sound system.

Jazz: *blinks and sobers* ...Remind me about the sound system.

hsvOptimus: *sobers and looks concerned*

tfaRatchet: *frowns. Since when does a Jazz need reminding of things?*

Ratchet: *optic ridge raises* That time you overcharged off your aft and insisted on joining the humans in a game of strip-poker, remember? When was that...? *suddenly remembers and sobers as well*

Jazz: *quietly, his head tipped back as his dark optics search his taller friend's face* Before I run inta Blackout?

Ratchet: *hmms thoughtfully, meeting Jazz's optics* I think so.

Jazz: *winces* I wonder what else I lost. You still got any backups fer me?

Ratchet: Backups? ..... *grins again* I think it'd be more fun watching you ask everyone on base what your debts are. *mock-pondering* I wonder if you have any with Galloway...

Jazz: *looks really worried, but isn't fussing as he usually does when concerned about something. Instead he glances to the watching trio and quietly tells them he'll see them later before turning and walking into the Black Dog*

hsvOptimus: *quietly* He got into a battle with a Blackout?

Ratchet: *now worried he upset the kid, gets up immediately* It's a long story, Optimus. Some other time! *chasing after Jazz now* Hey, I'll check my logs when we get back. I'm sure it's nothing.

Jazz: *turns from talking to the drone who's come to seat him. Opens his mouth, then closes it* *quietly* Ratch, this is kinda freaky. I love learnin'. I'm all about data. I've never lost any before.

Bett: Table, booth, or bar?

Ratchet: Bar. *squeezes the CO2's shoulder gently* I wouldn't worry about it, Jazz. In extreme situations memory circuits get crossed, or damaged. At least it was something minor. And not everybot has your perfect memory. I'm sure they will understand a few forgotten details.

Jazz: *wryly, as Bett moves to lead them toward the bar, which is still fairly empty this early* When it's a memory 'a me owin' them somethin'?

Ratchet: Honestly, it could be a lot worse. *follows them to the counter, unable to help himself thinking of Blackwing*

Jazz: Yeah. I guess. Doubt anybody's gonna believe I fergot that... *freezes as a big shadow falls over him* ...Though. *looks up and seems to act like a startled quail chick despite not actually moving* Blackout.

Blackout: *holding a scythe made of some richly carved tyraborg claw and leaning against it like a staff. Is looking down at the little silver mech with an expression of compassion and regret* Jazz. Does Recon know you're here?

Ratchet: *rumbles as he turns toward the matron* Yes, she does. We're here on business, actually. He's the only bot who knew this contact.

Blackout: *looks over at Nemesis* Their tab's on my bill.

Nemesis: *polishing the floor behind the bar with her happily wriggling son* Whatever.

Jazz: *glances up at Ratchet. Is really not sure what to think of being so close to the femme who nearly blew his mind*

Ratchet: *notices Jazz's uneasiness, but isn't sure what he can do without being rude* Thank you, Blackout.

Blackout: *nods, then reaches down and gently touches Jazz's head before turning and walking away slowly. Before she's gone five steps a big aerial bot is fussing at her gently in a northern English accent and then presenting himself to be used as a prop*

Jazz: *blink blinks at the touch, and then stands a little straighter as he watches her walk away* Ratchet...?

Ratchet: *a small smile creeps to his face as he watches the exchange, but hearing his name brings him back to reality* Hmm? Yes, Jazz?

Jazz: *uncertainly* You saw that too?

Ratchet: *amused grunt* Saw what? Her touch you, or the fact that she's doing an excellent job hiding a limp?

Jazz: *bewildered* She was bein' nice.

Ratchet: *sits at a barstool and begins looking for a menu* She obviously feels horrible about the whole affair.

Jazz: *as he hops up onto the stool by Ratchet* ...Blackout feels horrible fer nearly slaggin' an Autobot? *incredulity now joins the bewilderment that he's been leaking over onto Recon*

Nemesis: Yeah, so? She's a suck for Jazzes. What's yours?

Jazz: *absently* Pasgetti 'n scrambles.

Ratchet: *soberly* Even some Decepticons have standards. *to Nemesis* Fresh java, and a plate of silibacon, scrambles, and hashers.

Nemesis: *scowl* One thing straight. Blackout ain't a slaggin' 'Con. She doesn't follow the Fallen.

Ratchet: *cocks an optic ridge* Who on Cybertron is the Fallen? *honestly doesn't know*

Nemesis: *pauses to frown at him, and then reaches under the bar for a pamphlet, which she throws down in front of him* We're Destrons. How many pounds of breakfast you want on that plate?

Ratchet: *rumbles, pushing the pamphlet back across the counter* What I'm trying to say is, no matter the universe, it's not simply black-and-white. And I don't know, the usual amount for my make.

Nemesis: You keep that pamphlet, and you read it. It could save a lot of bots' lives. *turns and shouts an order toward the door to the kitchen* Bots of your make usually don't eat scrambles.

Ratchet: *subspaces it, but has every intention of forgetting it later* Well, I like them. And if someone else is paying I might as well get a full breakfast.

Nemesis: *just grins at Ratchet, and then heads for the kitchen door*

Ratchet: *small smirk for the bartender as he leaves. Then he glances at Jazz, hoping to gauge the bot's mood, wondering whether he should say anything*

Jazz: I already know about what that cat did in some 'verses. And I know ta keep 'Hide away from pink firetrucks. *shrugs, then pauses and tips his head back as two tall and brawny bots stop behind him and Ratchet* o.0 *turns to face them* Heyyyyy.

red and white bot: *spitting image of Ratchet but for colouring and the bad tempered curiosity in his optics... wait, no. That's part of the resemblance*

black bot: *looks like a calmer version of Ironhide*

Ratchet: What do you mean, pink fire- *also swivels around* Hello. Can I help you? *looking them up and down with interest and curiosity*

red and white: Name's Cragbuster. This is...

Jazz: *blinking slowly after glancing at his PINpoint* Sheeeeee... p.

Cragbuster: *scowl* What? No. His name's Starforge.

Ratchet: *now THAT name rings a bell. Or fifty* Starforge? *laughs to himself* No wonder you look like him. *smiles and offers a hand in greeting*

Starforge: *gives Ratchet's forearm a warrior's grip as he searches the older mech's face* *voice a deep, quiet rumble that holds a wisp of hope* You remember me?

Ratchet: *taken aback by the kid's earnestness, he responds slowly and with warmth* I do. At least... my version of him. *gives an encouraging squeeze*

Jazz: *wibbly* Ratch... that IS our Forge!

Ratchet: *glances at Jazz, then back to the kid. Rumbles thoughtfully* How did you know? *as much to Starforge as to Jazz*

Jazz: *holds up his PINpoint at the same time as Cragbuster holds up his*

Ratchet: *now performing his own scans* But you died. How is this possible?

Jazz: We never found his body, Ratch. Remember? That's what broke 'Hide up the most.

Starforge: *quietly, after perking* Is my parent alive?

Ratchet: *scans seem to confirm he's of their make, healthy and strong. A bit older than he should be, given the passage of time. He's grown into a fine mech, and Ratchet can't help but smile thinking of 'Hide's reaction when he sees him* Yes, he is. Both of them are.

Starforge: *turns and grins at Cragbuster*

Cragbuster: *cranky face softens into a smirk* Told ya, kid.

Starforge: *still grinning as he turns back to Ratchet, and it's Chromia's grin on Ironhide's face* How are they?

Ratchet: *chuckles at that smile* Fine, fine! No thanks to the Decepticons. *pats the empty seat next to him* Sit down! Where have you been all this time?

Starforge: *settles on the offered seat, but then looks up with protest as Cragbuster turns to walk off* Hey, where do you think you're going?

Cragbuster: I found your way back. That was our deal.

Starforge: So you're just leaving???

Cragbuster: It's your reality, kid. Not mine. They won't want me around.

Ratchet: Now wait a minute! I'm not letting the mech who looked after Starforge get away without me buying him a drink!

Cragbuster: *looks over his shoulder with a suspicious scowl* Do you even know who I am, old man?

Ratchet: *puts his scowly face back on* No, and I don't care. Now sit your aft down and accept my gratitude. Slag, everybot's gratitude!

Cragbuster: *turns and continues walking* No.

Starforge: *on his feet and grabbing Cragbuster by the shoulder* Now listen here. You're my mentor. That's what'll count. They don't need to know anything else.

Cragbuster: *impatient shrug as he tries to shake the hand off*

voice from behind Jazz and Ratchet: Sit down, Cragbuster.

Jazz: *startles* ACK! Rhinox, don't slaggin' do that!

Ratchet: *thank PRIMUS. He had no idea what to do* *glances at the voice's owner before watching hopefully to see if Cragbuster will comply*

Cragbuster: *turns and gives the husky green Maximal on the bar the mother of all stink eyes, millions of years of vinegar showing in the look*

Rhinox: *LOOKs right back* Now.

Cragbuster: *curses and complies*

Starforge: *slaps him on the shoulder and sits back in his own place. Is happy again*

Ratchet: Thank you, Rhinox. I will buy whatever he wants. *fishes out some of his poker winnings, consisting of various currencies from across the multiverse*

Rhinox: *looks at the cash and snorts* You're on Blackout's tab today. Put that away.

Jazz: *leaning back to see past Ratchet* *to Cragbuster* What is your problem, bot? You think that just 'cause your Ratchet ditched ya when you were new that all Ratchets're gonna hate on you?

Cragbuster: *so much growl at the small silver mech*

Ratchet: *sorting the currencies* No, we *indicating Jazz, Starforge, and himself* are on Blackout's tab. Cragbuster is on- *STOPS* *turns slowly to Jazz, optics wide as hubcaps*

Jazz: *sees his friend's look* That ol' glitch's your alternate kid. With a 'tude like that he's one of the ones that got lost.

Cragbuster: You wait. I'll find you outside the AV field...

Rhinox and Starforge: *calmly* No you won't.

Ratchet: *growls at the CO2* Why didn't you tell me?! Are you saying I lost my own progeny?!

Jazz: *blinks* You never had any kids, did you?

Cragbuster: *shaken out of his own anger by Ratchet's outburst. Stare*

Starforge: *sitting and giving sympathetic looks all around*

Ratchet: *growls some more* You lose younglings in the marketplace, not in the WAR! I'd never allow that to happen! *whirls to fling a finger in Cragbuster's direction* And if YOUR parent did, then... I disown myself!

Cragbuster: *blinking and looking gobsmacked* She... died. But my mech creator said she never wanted me anyway.

Ratchet: *grumbles, slightly less angry than before* That's still grounds for disowning. If she didn't want you she should have given you to someone who did. *turns to lean on the bar. Thoroughly hating this subject now* Where's that slagging food?

Rhinox: *shoves a cube of mild grade soother toward the medic* Ask him for the whole story. *shoves further cubes toward the others*

Cragbuster: *stink eye for the bartender, but takes the drink*

Ratchet: *mood slowly returning to normal* If he's one of mine his story doesn't matter. *trying to change subject yet again* Jazz, didn't I hear you call your contact Rhinox? He certainly looks like the same tech.

Jazz: Yeah. This's him.

Rhinox: Stories always matter. *tilts his head* Which one are you after if not Cragbuster's?

Ratchet: *ignoring the first comment* A young mech of your tech followed our Ironhide home last night. I was hoping you could tell me a little about your make.

Rhinox: What do you want to know? Sit down, Cragbuster.

Cragbuster: *grouch, growl*

Ratchet: The youngling has some... serious memory glitches, but I'm not sure how to even approach fixing them right now. Your tech is so compacted and interconnected, I'm afraid I would bust five other systems trying to fix this one. *is out of his element, which is something he's not used to*

Rhinox: Ah. *turns and jumps down off the top level of the bar. There's a lower level back there, and he rummages there for a bit before leaping back up. Offers Ratchet a blue plastic chip about the size and shape of an average large human children's picture book*

Ratchet: Thank you. *subspaces it for later study* And just for reference, do you know if Blackwing has always had memory issues?

Rhinox: *optics go unfocused as he looks elsewhere for a moment* ...Exile?

Jazz: *quietly* Yup.

Cragbuster: *startled look toward Jazz, his optics slightly wide with knowledge*

Ratchet: *looks to Jazz, growling again* How long have you known that?

Jazz: Since last night. *holds up his PINpoint* Jes' before Mutt showed up.

Ratchet: *giving him the stink-eye* And you didn't think I would like to have known that?

Jazz: You were busy! I figured since we had an appointment this mornin' I could tell ya then.

Ratchet: *sighs and rolls his optics* I would have enjoyed the distraction from cleaning up Jolt's mess.

Jazz: Oh. *winces* Sorry. I didn' wanna make ya yell anymore.

Ratchet: *staring at the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose* I wouldn't have yelled for that... Where is that slagging food? Did the bartender get lost?

Rhinox: You're the first customers of the morning. Hrafni's making it from scratch. She's nearly done.

Cragbuster and Starforge: *both staring at Ratchet* *Starforge is curious. Cragbuster is looking gobsmacked again*

Ratchet: *peeks one optic open to the staring pair* What? *no trace of malice in his voice, just the usual grumpiness and a smidge of curiosity*

Starforge: *grin!*

Cragbuster: *jerks his optics away and looks down, though the expression doesn't leave him*

Rhinox: Cragbuster's finding out Ratchets do care. *looks over his shoulder* There it is.

Nemesis: *massive heap of bot food on a huge platter in each hand*

Ratchet: Rhinox, don't embarrass the mech. *looks up and smiles* Ah, food! *clears off the space in front of him*

Rhinox: *snorts as the platters are set down* Sometimes a bot needs some embarrassment. You have anymore questions?

Starforge: *hand going for Ratchet's platter before it's even fully set down*

Ratchet: *light-hearted grimace at Starforge* Get me another plate of this, would you? And is there any kind of protocol I should follow for Exiles?

Rhinox: Keep them and love them.

Nemesis: One for the grouch too? *wiping hands on bar towel*

Cragbuster: *stink eyes her too*

Ratchet: Cragbuster- *catches himself, softening his tone* What would you like to eat?

Cragbuster: *shrugs* No idea. First time I've seen that slag. *grudgingly* Smells good, though.

Jazz: *attacking his pasgetti with chopsticks*

Ratchet: *snerks and turns back to Nemesis* Yes, one for him too please. And thank you, Rhinox. *gets to finishing his plate before Starforge does*

Rhinox: Is that all you wanted? *brow ridge quirk*

Starforge: *helping self to Ratchetfood, and passing some on to Cragbuster*

Cragbuster: *snorts with surprise as he eats*

Ratchet: Honestly, I have far too many questions. If you tell me anything you can about Blackwing, perhaps it will help me restore his memory.

Rhinox: I don't think you're getting that Blackwing's memories back. He's starting over.

Ratchet: Starting over? *sobers* What do you mean?

Rhinox: The memories are gone. The reality's gone. And it passed him by before it ended. He was too badly damaged to begin with and the reality rejected him. *voice a deep, quiet rumble* So Primus sent him here so he could have a reset.

Ratchet: *sets his fork down, staring through the counter as he rumbles to himself* *asking how something like that could possibly be allowed to happen, and the thought makes him sullen again*

Rhinox: *answering the unspoken thought* Sometimes things get messed up so badly that even a reality's Protectors can't save it. Sometimes a story finishes, but a few people still have chapters of their own to write.

Nemesis: *setting more platters on the counter. Pasgetti and hashers and silibacon and softboils and scrambles and blitztoast with botter*

Ratchet: *rumbles again, silent for a while before he speaks* Well, I suppose Ironhide has two younglings now.

Rhinox: He needed 'em. *mixing more drinks*

Jazz: *to his meal* Yeah, well. He ain't the only one.

Ratchet: *snerk* Jazz, do you remember what happened to Recon the last time you mentioned younglings?

Jazz: *sighs and eats*

Rhinox: Silverbolt's still waiting for pickup.

Starforge: ...I'm not really a youngling anymore. *had been thinking about it and only now commented*

Ratchet: *to Starforge* That won't stop Ironhide. Not for the first few months anyway. *turns back to Jazz and squeezes his shoulder* You have plenty of time.

Jazz: Yeah. 'N I got Mutt.

Starforge: *just grins that good natured grin that looks so much like Chromia sans mischief*

Ratchet: And Blackwing will need a lot of looking after, I'm sure. *starts poking at his plate again*

Starforge: A little brother. *chuckle* That's great.

Rhinox: No more questions? *watches as Nemesis bundles up the cubes he's mixed*

Ratchet: Until I think of some more. *smiles* Thank you. I'm sure I'll be back.

Rhinox: Alright. *lifts a hand in a wave, and then turns and walks off on his sturdy legs*

Jazz: Les' bring this all back, Ratch. I wanna share with my lady.

Ratchet: Keep your plating on, I'm not finished. *dignified scarfing*

Jazz: *laughs* You jes' don't wanna share. *nomma food*

Ratchet: *snort* I think Starforge has shared enough.

Starforge: *glances over quizzically with chopsticks sticking out of his mouth* Huh?

Jazz: *snerks and then facepalms and laughs silently*


after the food is gone

Jazz: *finished eating, stored the rest, and is busting a move behind Ratchet and the others*

Ratchet: *inspecting the bundle Nemesis has made*

Starforge: *watching Jazz as he absently licks his platter clean*

Nemesis: *tending other patrons at the now-busy bar, but notices Ratchet looking* That's yours.

Ratchet: *looks up* That's what I thought. What's in it?

Nemesis: Soother energon mix. Mild grade.

Ratchet: *small snerk* I'll save it for a special occasion. *turns to Starforge and Cragbuster* Well, I suppose it's time to go.

Nemesis: It's good for kids.

Cragbuster: *glances over from where he too had been licking his platter* See ya, kid.

Ratchet: *nearly facepalms at the plate-licking as he gets up*

Starforge: What? He was talking to you too, Buster. And it's not like you've got anywhere else to go.

Cragbuster: *snort* They're Autobots, kid. They don't want some old broken down merc cluttering up their base.

Jazz: *pauses and slowly lifts one brow ridge*

Ratchet: *stops* Do you have anywhere to go?

Cragbuster: *shrugs*

Starforge: No. Because we both blew ourselves out of the reality.

Jazz: *face palm*

Cragbuster: *face palm* *growl*

Ratchet: *both optics raise at this* How... exactly did you do that?

Starforge: I don't know. The Primus servant said something about being dead there now. We were at her place for awhile while Cragbuster healed enough to be able to get around again.

Ratchet: *rumbles before meeting Cragbuster's eyes* I can't make you come with us, but you're always welcome. There... aren't many of us left in our reality. It would mean a lot to have one more. Especially the mech who looked after Starforge.

Cragbuster: *again that startled look shows in his optics, but then he's wincing as Starforge gets up, puts arms around his chest, and lifts him bodily into the air* Put me down, ya slaggin' glitch rat!

Starforge: No. You're coming too.

Jazz: *cracks up* That's 'Hide's code alright.

Ratchet: *laughing too, but when he stops his hand has found its way to Starforge's shoulder* Don't force him, Starforge. *warmth in his voice* For it to mean anything he has to come by himself.

Starforge: He won't come. He always thinks nobody wants him. Well, I do. *and THERE is a flash of Ironhide in the black mech's optics*

Cragbuster: *growls and tries to loose Starforge's hold* You've got your people now.

Starforge: And you have yours. He's a guy, but he's still Ratchet.

Ratchet: *growls, crossing his arms* Starforge, do you really think he deserves to live where he's reminded of his parent all the time? ...If she can even be called that...

Cragbuster: *also growling more* Kid, the femme died before they ever got me into my shell. She ain't 'my' Ratchet.

Jazz: Whoa. Time out. Rewind. If this lady died before you got inta yer shell, how yer dad know she didn' want ya?

Ratchet: *waits for the answer*

Cragbuster: I killed 'er, ya stunned slagger! *using elbows to try and get free now*

Ratchet: *optics wide again*

Jazz: *gruffly* That don't mean she didn' want ya. You were a sparklet? Little guy?

Starforge: Yup. He was. *not letting go* And his dad left his mom before her spark ever budded.

Cragbuster: How the slag do you know that? *vicious cursing and more attempts to get free*

Ratchet: *growls loudly* Let him go, Starforge! *helping to pry the mech's arms off Cragbuster*

Starforge: *lets go as soon as Ratchet touches him, though his optics are white with hurt*

Cragbuster: *lands and then goes to one knee, wincing*

Ratchet: *grimaces at Cragbuster's wince, scanning him to make sure nothing broke* *turns to Starforge, voice measured* Alright, now you're going to tell me exactly what happened.

Starforge: *worried scowl for his mentor* I don't think he's as healed as he said he was.

Cragbuster: *isn't. Isn't growling right now either because he's holding onto his dizzy head with both hands*

Ratchet: *kneels to support the dizzy mech, scanning some more*

Cragbuster: *shows the mostly-healed-but-still-not-up-to-running-around-and-wrestling damage that comes with standing far too close to a really big explosion* *grumbling quietly*

Jazz: *on one knee near the two of them, his dark optics showing his concern* *softly* Ratch?

Ratchet: *softly* He'll be fine, with rest. *to Starforge* As long as he isn't bear-hugged any more. Now tell us how you know about him.

Starforge: *blinks* Oh. Hormah told me.

Ratchet: There, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Starforge: She said the story needed told.

Cragbuster: *tries to get up and nearly faceplants* *such vituperation!*

Ratchet: *catches him and gingerly helps him toward a chair* If you aren't coming home with us you need to get to a med bay.

Cragbuster: *acridly* What's the point?

Jazz: The point is that there's people that care aboutcha, slag fer brains.

Ratchet: *growls* What happened to your parent wasn't your fault. The fact is, because you were there to take care of Starforge I get the pleasure of informing my friends their child, their reason for existing, is not actually dead.

Cragbuster: *confused and angry scowl for Ratchet. He really doesn't get it. He's been alone for so long that he can't understand anyone wanting him around*

Ratchet: And I'm sure my friends would love to thank the mech responsible for that. *hoping he'll get the hint as he stares intently into Cragbuster's optics*

Cragbuster: *scowl deepens* I've got records on fifty stations and one hundred and twelve planets. Persona non grata on eighteen more, and banned from another twenty three. The interstellar law enforcement got so tired of locking me up every time I got paid that they made me a drone warrant officer to keep an optic on me. She stopped running about six hundred years ago.

Jazz: The cops couldn' fix her?

Starforge: The race's been extinct for about two million years.

Ratchet: Rest assured if you hurt any of my friends... I'll kick you out myself. Until then... *anger melts from his optics and his voice* You came from one of me, and that's all I need to know to trust you. You'd be welcome at our home.

Cragbuster: *looks away with a bad tempered scowl that can't hide the shocked light in his optics* Whatever. Let's get this show on the road.

Jazz: //Jes. Like. You.// *glances at Ratchet*

Ratchet: *stinkeye for Jazz*

Jazz: *such a sunny grin!*

Ratchet: *to Cragbuster* Let's go before you rupture a line. Jazz, could you?

Jazz: *touches everybody, and brings them back to Ratchet's big storeroom*

Sideswipe: *books it the slag outta there with a yelp*

Starforge: Hey! *automatically goes after the fleeing bot*

Ratchet: *grumbles* I need a better lock on that door... Starforge! Help me get him to a berth.

Starforge: *quick stop and turn around* Okay. *comes to grab one side of his mentor and put the red and white's arm over his shoulders* Ready.

Sideswipe: //I wasn't stealing your stuff! I was looking for Ironhide's new kid!//

Ratchet: *gently leads Cragbuster to a corner berth with a privacy curtain he can pull if he wishes* //*ominous* That remains to be seen.//

Jazz: What's that scowl for now, Ratch? *quirks a brow at the taller bot*

Starforge: *looks at scowl, but then steps back and looks around, hoping for a glimpse of his creators*

Cragbuster: *weary hand to his head as he lays back and grumbles*

Ratchet: Sideswipe. *sets one of the mid-grade soother cubes on a table in arm's reach* Rest now, I'll give you a tour of the base later.

Cragbuster: *still grumbling. But he's slipped into recharge*

Jazz: *quirks a brow* Sleep, mech. Don't jes' recharge.

Ratchet: *small scowl* Don't make me override you...

Cragbuster: *stink eye* I'm recharging!

Ratchet: For your regeneration programs to work fully you need to sleep. Doctor's orders.

Cragbuster: No.

Starforge: But I'm right here to watch your back.

Cragbuster: You have people to meet!

Starforge: *sets jaw and looks just like his dad*

Ratchet: *grimaces for a minute until he gets an idea* If you won't go to sleep I'll just have to have Starforge's parents meet him here. And I guarantee you'll like Ironhide's bear hugs even less.

Cragbuster: *SO. MUCH. STINK EYE* *then meeps and whirs to a stop as his optic shutters drop*

Starforge: Ack!

Jazz: *laughs and twirls Ratchet's sedation gun*

Ratchet: Give me that! *snatches the gun and puts it away*

Jazz: *more laughter, his arms over his head lest he catch a wrench*

Starforge: *worried look for Cragbuster, and then reaches to gently shake his mentor's shoulder*

Ratchet: Let him be. He'll be out for a few cycles. *voice softens* I assure you, this base is safe.

Starforge: *uncertain look that brings him right back to the youngster he'd been, but then nods* Alright.

Jazz: 'Hide ain't answerin' his comm.

Ratchet: What do you mean? //Ironhide, there's someone you and Chromia need to meet.//

Ironhide: *present but busy ping*

Jazz: That's what I mean.

Ratchet: Hmm. //Chromia, are you busy? There's someone you need to see.//

Chromia: *present but busy*

Jazz: *suddenly perks* //'Lita, you busy?//

Ratchet: What in the... *grumbles* Come on, Starforge. We'll go find your parents.

Elita: //I'm in a meeting now, Jazz...//

Jazz: //We needta get hold'a 'Mia. 'Lita, we found Starforge!//

Ratchet: *heading for Ironhide's quarters*

Elita: //What?//

Jazz: //Starforge was in the Nexus. He's alive!// *voice shakes a little* //He's alive, 'Lita! We gotta tell 'Hide 'n 'Mia!//

Elita: *base-wide comm* *excited* //Emergency meeting!//

Ratchet: *stops* Jazz, did you comm Elita?

Bumblebee: //Be there in 10 minutes!//

Jazz: *over the common channel* //Slag yeah!// *so excited that he just bombed his mate but good with it*

Starforge: *heard those open messages too and is blinking with uncertain surprise* Elita? Aunt Elita? *then switches to comms himself* //Aunt Elita?//

Sunstreaker: *over the PA system* //Emergency meeting. Nobody's found your kid yet, Ironhide.//

Ratchet: *laughing as he turns toward the mess hall, the only place able to hold everybot on base* //Don't ruin the surprise, Sunstreaker.// *motions to Starforge to follow him*

Sunstreaker: //Huh? What are you talking about?//

Wheeljack: //Nobody's found who?//

Sunstreaker: //Blackwing!//

Elita: //Just come to the mess hall, everyone.//

Wheeljack: //Who is Blackwing? *sighs* On my way.//

Ratchet: *finally reaches the mess hall to see Elita, Optimus, Recon, Ironhide, Chromia, Arcee, Lennox, and Galloway waiting*

Beachbreak: *up on one of the tables, his elbow resting on his knee as he yaks with Epps. Looks up as he catches a glimpse of Ratchet yellow out of the corner of his optic, and then surges to his feet with a shout of alarm* Fake Ironhide!

Ironhide: *guns out!*

Chromia: *whirls and then stares at the bot beside Ratchet*

Ratchet: *laughs, loud and heartily* Ironhide, you recognize him, don't you?

Ironhide: *rises from his combat crouch, blinking* I... *shakes his head and looks at that bot beside his friend again, his expression going lost*

Chromia: *soft gasp* No... it can't be.

Lennox: *worried and intrigued look on his face* Ironhide, who is it?

Wheeljack: *comes striding in, smelling of chemicals* Now what's so important? I have a sensitive experiment running and- *just now catches the vibe in the room and falls silent*

Ratchet: *encouraging hand on Starforge's shoulder* It can and it is.

Ironhide: *face suddenly goes utterly blank, and then the strong old soldier who has seldom ever been felled by serious injury is suddenly falling to one knee and a hand as he sways*

Chromia: Ironhide! *arms around him*

Starforge: *rushes forward and catches his father* Hey...

Recon: *smiling warmly at the scene and at Jazz, now understanding some of his earlier feelings*

Elita: *hand over her mouth*

Optimus: *discretely scanning with his PINpoint to confirm that Starforge is of their reality*

Galloway: *silent. His grumpy thorny exterior might just be cracking*

Epps: Holeee *bleep!* It's Starforge!

Lennox: *recognizes the name* Really? That's amazing! *slaps his buddy on the leg*

Jazz: 'Hide? C'mon, man. Don't faint now.

Ironhide: *turns his head and blinks at his son, then mutters his name and goes offline*

Ratchet: O.O *rushes to the warrior's side, scanning for everything he can think of*

Wheeljack: *rushes over as well*

Recon: *worry worry*

Ironhide: *processor rushing to reboot, but his system's taken a shock and the effect of that shock is slowing the rebooting somewhat*

Starforge: *gently shifting the older bot so that he's laying down with his head on Starforge's legs. Optics are bright, and there are oil trails going down his face*

Chromia: *torn between worrying about her mate and touching her son to be sure he's real. Is also crying and has totally forgotten her English*

Jazz: *doing just like his mate as he hunkers by Ironhide's feet*

Epps: *low, fervent cursing that sounds like a prayer of thanks*

Ratchet: Give him a little time. *is making sure worried bots don't crowd too much*

Bumblebee: *skiiiiiids into the mess hall, visor down* Are 'Cons here? What is it? *looking around wildly*

Sunstreaker: *looks blankly at Bumblebee* ...Ironhide and Chromia's kid that died during the first attack on Tyger Pax is back.

Bumblebee: *visor snaps up and he blinks a few times* Then why is 'Hide asleep?

Lennox: *can't help but chuckle*

Sunstreaker: *slowly, as though disbelieving his own words* He... fainted.

Ironhide: *groans just then and gives Ratchet a foggy and confused look*

Recon: He's nefer done sat before...

Lennox: *laughing* His kid just came back from the dead! Give 'im a little slack!

Ratchet: Welcome back, Ironhide.

Ironhide: *hand to his head. Groggy growl of a mutter* What the slag...?

Chromia: *gentle hand for her mate's face*

Starforge: *just watching, afraid to say anything and startle his dad again*

Jazz: *watching in uncharacteristic silence. And not realizing that he's crying too*

Recon: *hand on her mate's shoulder, optics shining with happiness*

Bumblebee: Is it... really him? *huge grin*

Wheeljack: *chuckling* Sure is!

Starforge: *looks around as he hears a voice he thinks he remembers. Brow ridges lift as he spots that little bright yellow bot* Creator, who's that?

Chromia: *blinks* I'm Mom.

Ironhide: *soft growl and tries to sit up despite being still light headed*

Ratchet: *chuckles and helps his friend to sit up* He's used to that word because his mentor uses it.

Bumblebee: *approaches with happy deedles* I'm Bumblebee.

Ironhide: *groans and grouches* Mentor? *squints at Bumblebee*

Chromia: *quizzical look for Ratchet even as she reaches for Bumblebee without letting go of Starforge*

Ratchet: *smiles* The mech who watched over him after all these years. You can meet him later.

Bumblebee: *blinks and kneels down next to Chromia*

Lennox: *sits atop one of the tables for a better view. Smiling away*

Beachbreak: *hunkered next to Lennox, his optics wide as he watches what's going on below him*

Ironhide: *glances at the people on the table, but then forces himself to sit steady* Who is it?

Jazz: *soft snerk through his tears and shoots a teasing look at Ratchet* *SO much mischief leaks over to Recon*

Ratchet: *looks to Starforge, encouraging him to explain*

Starforge: //I don't know what to say. Do these guys know about different realities, Ratchet?//

Ratchet: *an "oops" expression crosses his face. He probably should have explained this earlier* //We do, but the humans don't. Just um... just say you were in space until now. That's mostly true, isn't it?//

Recon: *happy chiding from her end. The mech just fainted, give him a break*

Jazz: -It ain't 'Hide I'm laughin' about, Babe!- *big grin*

Recon: -Oh?- *grins as she wipes a tear off his face*

Jazz: Ratchet's a daddy too! 'N his kid took care'a 'Forge.

silence: *falls suddenly*

stares: *much are happening*

Galloway: *well, he was softening up...* Excuse me?

Wheeljack: *immensely amused* Really?

Ratchet: *GLARING DAGGERS at Jazz while quickly trying to lie* No! Well, he... he looks just like me.

Jazz: I'm guessin' the stories about feral younglings had at least one basis in reality. This guy's Ratchet's spittin' image. Same bad temper 'n everthin'. Even sounds like 'im! *immune to glares, Ratchet! You know that by now*

Starforge: *slowly* His name's Cragbuster. He's kind of a loner. *arm around a Mom now*

Galloway: "Feral"?

Optimus: Younglings the Allspark created as it drifted through space. *smiles, enjoying the fairy tale even as he guesses Ratchet and Jazz's Nexus visit had more to do with it*

Bumblebee: *already picking out congratulatory "It's a boy!" e-cards to send to Ratchet*

Chromia: *nodding to Optimus' explanation* Or that were born from piles of parts that other bots had forgotten. They were boogie stories to tell youngsters.

Jazz: *to Optimus* //You should'a heard this guy's misdemeanour record, OP.//

Starforge: He's the best fighter in the galaxy.

Ironhide: Huh? *light of battle and challenge now kindling in those old optics* Oh is he?

Chromia: *baps him*

Optimus: *chuckle through the comm line* //Let's hope he hasn't rubbed off on Starforge.//

Bumblebee: In the galaxy?

Starforge: *with an uncertain look for Ironhide* Yes.

Ironhide: *pushes himself to his feet, optics glinting* So where is he? *stops and blinks* Slag. Where's the other kid?

Chromia: *face palm* I forgot about Blackwing.

Ratchet: *getting up with him* Relax, Ironhide. He's asleep right now.

Optimus: What about Blackwing?

Ironhide: *brushes Ratchet off, even a challenge to the power of his cannons failing to distract him from concern for his youngling* I can't find him anywhere, Optimus.

Jazz: Slaaag... *mirth forgotten as he frowns and worries*

Recon: Vhat?

Optimus: *worried* Where did you last see him?

Bumblebee: *thoughtful beeps* Maybe that's what that shadow was...

Chromia: This morning before we went to bath.

Ironhide: *sharp look for Bumblebee* Shadow?

Beachbreak: Who's Blackwing?

Knockout: *scowling as he leans over the table* Yeah.

Lennox: *turning around at the voice* Hey, Knockout.

Recon: *to the smaller bots* Anoser youngling who followed Ironhide home last night.

Bumblebee: Driving here I saw a weird bird fly overhead.

Ironhide: He's left the base?! *whirls back toward Optimus* I need to go find him.

Starforge: I can help.

Optimus: Starforge, you should stay here. You don't know the terrain and the guards wouldn't have the authorization to let you back in. Bumblebee, Knockout, Beachbreak, can you assist Ironhide?

Ratchet: *wants to order Ironhide to stay after that reboot, but knows he wouldn't* *grimaces and crosses his arms*

Galloway: *whirls* Epps, get a team on this right away. Make sure he doesn't reach the nearest town.

Starforge: *uncertainly, as the three young soldiers salute and look to Ironhide, and Epps rolls his eyes and heads toward the door at a run* I've been on many worlds. I know how to blend in.

Galloway: *jogs off to hover over Epps to make sure he gets the job done*

Lennox: *rolls eyes* So much for that meeting. Optimus, I'll get an authorization code for the new guy. By the time you get back it'll be in the system and they won't ^$&*@ at me about letting him in.

Ironhide: Stay here with your mother, Starforge. I'll be back soon.

Chromia: *stink eye about being left behind*

Ironhide: *doesn't see it. Is leading the youngbots out of the room*

Wheeljack: Ack, my experiment! *rushes back to the lab*

Optimus: Starforge, it is good to have you back with us. I'm sure Chromia can show you around.

Jazz: We gotta get you a local alt mode. *slight grin. Is still worrying about Blackwing*

Starforge: *pauses in nodding to Optimus' words to look at Jazz* Ah. I've already got an alt mode. I was born with it.

Jazz: *confused glance up at Optimus*

Optimus: *confused as well* No one is born with an alt mode. You must have forgotten when you obtained yours.

Chromia: Wait. No. I remember. *looks at Ratchet* Do you remember? He didn't have the equipment for scanning an alt mode.

Ratchet: I do. Before I got around to investigating the war started and... *sad look* You know.

Chromia: *nods and looks at her son as though to make sure he's still there*

Starforge: *quietly* I didn't need the scanners. I was born with my alt mode. All my systems are hardwired toward its working.

Sunstreaker: *frowning from where he's walked over* I don't see any kibble.

Starforge: ...Why would there be dog food?

Jazz: *face palm*

Lennox: *holding back a snicker* Really? What's your alt then?

Starforge: I'm a warp gate generator. *stops looking strangely at Sunstreaker*

Chromia: *blink*

Jazz: 0.0 Wha?

Optimus: What?

Lennox: O.o Like outta Star Trek?

Starforge: I... don't know what 'Star Trek' is, sorry. But I can help people get across the galaxy in a pretty short time.

Lennox: Holy ^*(#!

Ratchet: *flabbergasted*

Optimus: How can you do that?

Starforge: By generating a warp gate for them to go through.

Jazz: *gobsmacked staring* That... that's why he got taken away. Can you imagine what Megs would'a done with 'im?

Chromia: *STINK EYE at the thought*

Lennox: Imagine what Galloway would do with him... *doesn't want to think about it*

Sunstreaker: ...I thought you guys had Fat Aft in line?

Starforge: ...Fat. Aft?

Chromia: *sour expression*

Lennox: *small smile at the youngster* Maybe, but I don't want the guys in Washington getting wind of this.

Optimus: *all seriousness* They won't.

Chromia: Nope.

Starforge: *worried frown as he looks quizzically from his mother to Lennox and Optimus* I... think I need a fill in.

Sunstreaker: Earth. Organic. Most the natives are nreaking futts.

Jazz: *blink. Snerk* There's more ta it than that, Streaker.

Ratchet: I suppose I forgot to explain a few things before we got here.

Optimus: *encouraging smile* I believe we have some time now. *sits, indicating to Starforge to join him* I believe we should start with the Nexus.


meanwhile, outside

Knockout: *checking to see if he can give Galloway a wet willy*

Beachbreak: *focused on Epps and Ironhide*

Ironhide: *growling and grousing. Wants to get going already*

Bumblebee: *on point. Revving his engine impatiently*

Galloway: *pacing, awaiting the arrival of 2 humvees of soldiers from Epps' unit* *sees Knockout incoming and waves his hand away* Do you mind?

Knockout: *scowl* What? I wasn't doing anything.

Ironhide: Alt mode, kid.

Knockout: *gripes and transforms. And then REVS. And revs, and revs, and revs*

Beachbreak: *climbs into Ironhide's cargo hold and also transforms to his alt mode*

Bumblebee: *deedles and comms the assembled squad* //Fat Aft seeeees allllll! Gotta try harder, KO!//

Knockout: *REV REV... Roll behind Galloway and blare his horn*

Galloway: *JERKS forward, holding his ears* And you call yourselves a military operation! *as the humvees pull up* Finally! EPPS! I want this feral thing found and I want it found NOW!

Epps: *doubled over slightly with laughter as Ironhide puts out an arm and slaps Knockout over* It's called hazing, Mr. Galloway. You wanna belong, dontcha? *looks to his men and nods, then does several quick hand signs that have them peeling away in all directions*

Galloway: *scowl* Why would I ever want to "belong" to a hive of aliens and their converts? Keep me informed of anything you find! *whirls to find the comm center and hover there*

Bumblebee: *whistling notes of laughter* This way! *peels out*

Ironhide: *as he heads out after Knockout* Because it beats having the aliens and their converts telling your boss about your stupid sweater collection, or your favourite online game?

Knockout: *has rezzed himself up a rider and is leaving a strip of rubber as he burns along*

Bumblebee: *driving along the road to base, retracing his treads* //Saw 'im around that hill up there. Heading south.// *including Epps' team in his comm*

Kami: *laughs over comms* //Let me out here, Petr.//

humvee: *stops and disgorges the Japanese cyberneticist and a massive flop eared dog*

Kami: Okay, Mutt. Find him!

Mutt: *blink blink, nose down and sniffs in a circle*

Ironhide: //Don't lose Jazz's slaggin' dog. We'd never hear the end of it. Really never.// *doesn't stop as he speaks, is heading in the way that Bumblebee indicated even as he looks for signs and listens to the human radio waves*

desert: *full of critters and dry plants. There is an odd energy signature emanating faintly from the east*

Bumblebee: *continuing south* //Can't you comm 'im, 'Hide?//

Ironhide: //Ratchet says he can't hear our frequencies. Everybody try going East. I'm reading something over there.//

Kami: *thumbs up and then goes running out across the desert at Mutt's side*

Bumblebee: *kicks up dirt as he swerves off the road to the east*

signature: *small spike in energy*

Ironhide: *suddenly puts up a speaker* *top volume* BLACKWING!

caws: *from 1/2 mile away, not moving*

Bumblebee: *blares a happy pop song*

Ironhide: *out across the countryside. Just grilled a roadrunner* *calls again*

Knockout: *also zooming toward the sounds* *and revving*

caws: *one more loud angry one, then they stop. A figure the size of a large cat can be seen hunkered over something in the dirt*

Ironhide: //Everyone hold your position.// *continues forward himself*

Epps: *sticks his head out the skylight on the Hummer he's in and frowns*

Bumblebee: *rocks on his shocks to the tune of the song*

Blackwing: *in beast mode, sheltering something and cawing gently to it*

Ironhide: *scans surrounding area, not forgetting to check for flying vehicles overhead, as he rolls close to the youngling* *is once more making those soothing and reassuring rumbles*

area: *clear, save for the dead rattlesnake lying nearby*

Blackwing: *tenses, looking up at Ironhide, then at eeeeverybody else. Pulls his bundle close*

Ironhide: *transforms and sets Beachbreak on the ground* *gentle and gruff* What've you got there?

Beachbreak: *hangs back, looking unthreatening*

Blackwing: *looks like he might fly away if it weren't for his charge. Looks down at it with uncertainty*

Ironhide: *moves a little closer and goes to one knee* *quiet rumbles* Let me see?

Blackwing: *hesitates, but pulls back a massive paw to reveal a very small and scared prairie dog* *caws to it gently*

Ironhide: *peers at the creature* ...Mouse?

Beachbreak: Gopher.

Ironhide: *blinks* Baby? I don't remember 'em being that small.

Beachbreak: I think so.

Ironhide: *looks at Blackwing* Nice. *scans the prairie dog*

prairie dog: *has had a massive fright, and its elevated heart rate is obscuring any other readings*

Blackwing: *gently strokes the critter's head with his beak* *softly* It was alone. I saved it.

Ironhide: *rumbles and reaches into a storage compartment* I don't see any bugs on it. *pulls out an empty coffee can* Here, put some holes in the top and stick him in here so he'll be safe on the way back.

Beachbreak: *isn't going to say anything about what kind of suck Ironhide is for kids*

Bumblebee: What is it? Can't see! *rocks impatiently*

Blackwing: *stares at the can dubiously, but takes it in his beak and gingerly pokes holes with his claws*

Ironhide: *as he resumes rummaging in his pockets* Stay back, 'Bee. *finds a box of tissues and offers that to Blackwing* Here, give him some of this.

Beachbreak: *to Bumblebee* Gopher.

Ironhide: *winces slightly as the little rodent continues to whistle* //Ratchet. Optimus. We found him.//

Ratchet: //Excellent. Is he all right?//

Bumblebee: Fluffy rat thing?

Blackwing: *cocks his head at the tissues and sticks the whole box in the can* ..... *tips it out and proceeds to coax the prairie dog inside*

Ironhide: //He's physically undamaged. But he's not saying much. Ack no... okay, I guess that works.//

Beachbreak: It's littler than Jazz's rat.

Bumblebee: *deedles* Oh! Whack-a-mole!

Blackwing: *having trouble picking up the lid*

Beachbreak: Not when Jazz is looking.

Ironhide: *leans forward* Can I help? *hand going slowly toward the lid* *comming Jazz and telling him to have a pen ready that a gopher will like*

Epps: //Fat $&$@@#&'s gonna love that. *cackle*//

Optimus: //Any indication as to why he left?//

Blackwing: *initially squeaks and pulls the can close, but then detaches himself. Pushes the lid toward Ironhide's big hand*

Ironhide: *as he picks up the lid and offers it carefully* Here you go, Blackwing. //He's damaged, Optimus. He might not even have had a reason.//

Ratchet: //I'll scan him again when you get back.//

Blackwing: *fumbling with his big paws, but manages to pop the lid on*

Galloway: //EPPS! Have you found it yet?!//

Ironhide: //He's not an it, you fat headed fat aft!//

Knockout and Beachbreak: *sniggerfitdie*

Bumblebee: *rocking with laughter*

Epps: *XD XD* //We got 'im.//

Galloway: *after a pause* //How am I supposed to know what gender it is? Bring it back immediately, and make sure it doesn't escape again!//

Blackwing: *caws to the can and stands up submissively*

Ironhide: //Hey, Epps, it says to bring Blackwing back. It wants you to make sure he doesn't escape again.// *reaches his hands toward Blackwing* *gentle and gruff* Want to come up?

Galloway: *silent*

Optimus: *you can practically hear him shaking his head over the comm, though he's not objecting*

Bumblebee: *snickering gleefully*

Blackwing: *flaps, grabbing the can in his back talons and waiting patiently for a hand to land on*

Ironhide: *as Knockout and Beachbreak form a chorus of mirth with Bumblebee he holds out his hands to receive his younger son* So that's a pet, right? Not lunch? You name pets.

Beachbreak and Knockout: *are now going to snicker at Ironhide too*

Epps: *grinning as he leans on the roof of his Hummer*

Blackwing: *lands gently, clutching the can in his forearms and cocking his head thoughtfully* Pet. Name pets...?

Bumblebee: Name 'im Whack-a-mole!

Ironhide: *stern look for Bumblebee* You've seen what happens when I hit gophers.

Beachbreak: Jazz calls his rat 'Splinter'.

Bumblebee: Yeah, but you have fun doin' it. *grin grin*

Ironhide: *sideways glance and no comment as Knockout snerks. Then a throat clearing sound as he looks down at Blackwing* Want to ride inside my cab?

Blackwing: *cocks his head again, then shakes it no*

Ironhide: *surprised* No? We need to keep you where nobody can see you when we're out here.

Blackwing: *looks around* Who?

Bumblebee: Place's empty, 'Hide.

Ironhide: You think that's going to keep Fat Aft from yelling?

Beachbreak: He can ride in the back with me. I have a tarp. *grin*

Blackwing: *considers, then nods*

Ironhide: *gruffly gentle again* Alright. *sets Blackwing down beside Beachbreak and then transforms* Get in. Careful.

Beachbreak: *hops up on the back bumper and then into the truck bed before turning and offering a hand to Blackwing*

Epps: *talking to somebody inside his Hummer* Nah nah. I think he should call it Gus.

Blackwing: *grasps the coffee can in a back talon and flaps up to the truck bed. No hard feelings, Beachbreak, he just doesn't have hands in this mode. After landing he lays down beside the can and peeks in the holes*

Beachbreak: *watches him get in, and then kneels to pat him on the back before covering the both of them with the tarp* Okay. Hold on.

Ironhide: Ready?

Beachbreak: Are you ready, Blackwing? *such a friendly grin for the younger bot*

Blackwing: *nods, looking a bit like a child who knows he's breaking some rule but excited to do it because Dad says it's ok*

Ironhide: *pulls out slowly and carefully, and is soon heading back toward base with the Humvees in a line behind him*

Knockout: *burning doughnuts, spinning his back tire, popping wheelies. Changing the colour of his holodriver's jacket. Very busy being active here while he's got the chance*

Bumblebee: *speeds under one of KO's wheelies, kicking up dust and deedling all the while*

Blackwing: *holding the can tight amidst the bumping and looking up at Beachbreak*

Beachbreak: *is peeking over the side of Ironhide's bed* The others are burning off some energy. *ducks down as Knockout's revving gets really close, and laughs as gravel and sand spatter the top of the tarp* Missed me. Meyaaahhhh. *has no tongue, but he can make the sound!*

Blackwing: *smiles*

Bumblebee: *speeds up next to Epps' humvee, revving his engine*

Beachbreak: Do you want to go play in the gym when we get back? I bet 'Bee will come too. They've got what the humans call a medicine ball. It's a lot of fun to push around. *makes a call over comms* Longarm and Salvage say they'll come play if we want.

Blackwing: *considers, but then turns back to the can with a concerned look, cawing gently some more*

Beachbreak: Awww. He'll probably want to rest a little bit in the quiet so his processor... uh. So his brain can work out all the new stuff that's happened. He looks pretty young yet.

Ironhide: *slowing down as he enters the base compound, and then grousing at Knockout as the young bike bot's revving starts to echo off buildings*

Blackwing: *nods at Beachbreak. He knows, but doesn't want to leave the thing's side anyway*

Beachbreak: Aw, okay. Maybe we can play another time. *hopeful and easy going grin*

Knockout: *lifts up the tarp as Ironhide comes to a stop* We're here. Can't you hear Fat Aft?

Beachbreak: I'd yell too if everyone called me that.

Knockout: You hardly even have an aft. We'd have to call you 'No Aft'.

Galloway: *storms out of the comm room* All right, I wanna see this thing. Where is it?

Blackwing: *blinks out of the tarp*

Ironhide: *deep growl* You are seriously getting on my nerves, Fat #$&#@#$. It's easy to see why no female ever looks twice at you.

Beachbreak: o.o Buuurrrrn.

Starforge: *comes walking over to his father, and then pauses as he senses the older bot's anger*

Galloway: *glare* At least my species isn't butchering innocent civilians all over this planet.

Optimus: *enters with Elita and Lennox*

Ironhide: No. Just in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, various Middle Eastern countries, North America, South America, and China.

Epps: *standing by his Hummer and looking like he's wondering if he wants to play, or flee. Is amused either way*

Galloway: *stung, but comes back angrier* Those are our problems! You have no right to interfere, and yet you continue to bring more and more of your kind here every day! *points at Starforge*

Ironhide: If it were up to me, I'd leave all you little xenophobes in the 'friendly United States' to the 'Cons. The way you #$&*#@ treat refugees and children is sickening. *turns and rolls away*

Starforge: *uncertain scowl down at Galloway*

Galloway: Yeah, at least we haven't destroyed our planet yet.

Optimus: *has been on standby, and now is obviously the time to prevent that explosion* MR. Galloway, weren't we discussing the South American operation?

Galloway: *fumes for a moment before following Prime down the hall*

Lennox: *big sigh of relief, following after them*

Ironhide: *rumbling curses as Chromia and Epps come over, but then quiets as Beachbreak pops out from under the tarp*

Beachbreak: Coast is clear, Blackwing. Let's get out.

Starforge: *is that gentle big hand coming down toward Blackwing* Hi.

Blackwing: *peeks out, zipping back in when he sees the hand*

Bumblebee: I got stuff to do. See you later, Beachbreak!

Knockout: *flops on the floor in Bumblebee's wake* Bored now...

Chromia: *steps between her sons* *softly* Easy, Starforge, he's skittish. *smiles at Blackwing and offers her own arms* Do you remember me, Blackwing?

Ironhide: *doing that encouraging rumble*

Blackwing: *peeeeks back out, looking around, still clutching his can possessively* *nods slowly*

Chromia: Can I pick you up? *so much affection twinkling in her optics*

Blackwing: *looks to Beachbreak*

Beachbreak: *grins at him* Moms do that if you're small enough. It's kind of nice.

Knockout: *snort*

Ironhide: *folds out an arm and squashes the obstreperous young bike bot with a fist*

Beachbreak: *startles and then laughs*

Blackwing: *grimaces at the smashing and gets out of that truck bed as quick as he can*

Chromia: *down to one knee to put a hand on his back* Easy. They're just playing. See? Knockout's not hurt.

Knockout: *sitting up and displaying his skill with invective now*

Ironhide: *snorting at the bike bot as he transforms. Then turns his head to look at Starforge for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing his son in a hug that causes metal to groan with stress*

Blackwing: *rubs against the hand while watching the father-son moment*

Ratchet: //Ironhide, you can bring Blackwing by later this evening.//

Ironhide: //Whatever.// *busy creaking his son's welds*

Starforge: Dad, some of the guys are laughing. *wondering why*

Ironhide: *snorts and lifts him high*

Starforge: Ouch! Ack! *laughing now himself*

Chromia: *chuckles, though her optics are leaking as she watches*

Ironhide: *drops Starforge so that the younger bot staggers, still laughing* Let's go home. There's an empty room next to our living room, 'Forge. You can bunk in there.

Blackwing: *looks up to regard this new bot Ironhide seems to like so much, until he hears soft scratching from inside the coffee can*

Chromia: *smiles at Blackwing* *softly* That's your brother now, Blackwing. I hope the two of you will wind up being good friends.

Epps: Brothers 'n good friends. Just like 'Hide 'n Ratchet.

Ironhide: Shut the @$#$%$# up, Bobby.

Blackwing: *wonders why "Dad" is cursing as he caws softly to his pet*

Starforge: *quiets and comes over to drop to one knee in front of Blackwing* *voice a quiet rumble* Can I pick you and your friend up, little brother?

Blackwing: *backs up a step as the large bot approaches, looking from him to Chromia to the can. Finally says simply and softly* Can we go home?

Starforge: Sure, I'll take you home. Dad wants to show us football, and he says your bed's right by the TV. *such a gentle grin for such a big burly bot*

Blackwing: *smiles and nods. He knows the prairie dog is getting antsy and doesn't want to keep him cooped up longer than necessary*

Starforge: *big hands move to carefully close around the smaller bot* I bet your friend's bed is ready too. He's probably going to want to hide for a little while so he can get used to us.

Chromia: *surprised look for Starforge. Wonders why he knows so much about organic animals*

Ironhide: *contentedly exchanging crippling insults with Epps*

Blackwing: *nods some more, picking up the can gingerly in a talon* He can make tunnels in my nest.

Starforge: No. He'll need his own nest at first. *tilts head and then chuckles* I hear there's a nest for him attached to your nest now. *curious brow quirk* And there's another friend waiting to meet you who loves sharing nests.

Chromia: What?

Blackwing: *tilts head at Chromia's reaction as he settles into Starforge's hands*

Starforge: *slowly, with a grin* Jazz gave you his rat. He says she's a little lover. What's that mean, Mom?

Chromia: *laughing now herself* I have no idea.

Blackwing: *brightens at the mention of a gift* Can I see?

Starforge: Sure. *stands and holds small brother close, then walks with his parents to the narrow, slightly cramped room that they call their living room. Can see Blackwing's nest right away and walks over to the cinderblock tower to tuck his brother among the bedding. Then spots the beautiful little brown rat with the white star on her forehead as she eagerly climbs her cage bars and wriggles her whiskers in friendly welcome to him and Blackwing* Hey, look.

Blackwing: *cradles the coffee can the whole way, setting it into his nest and hopping out to happily inspect the new fuzzy thing!*

Starforge: *points to the cage wired to the other back corner of the concrete nest* I bet this is for your friend in the can.

Blackwing: *turns from trying to nuzzle the rat with his beak. The new cage looks choc full of shredded office papers from around the base* *nods in approval*

Starforge: Let's see how you get this open... *massive fingers so delicately open the catch and lift the lid of the cage* There you go. Let him keep his can, it might make him feel safer.

Blackwing: *impressed by his dexterity! But doesn't think he can accomplish the same in beast mode* Blackwing, terrorize! *now in bot mode, proceeds to gently place the can in the enclosure, removing the lid*

Starforge: *is a set of big blue optics peeking over the edge of Blackwing's nest as he tries to keep as low a profile as possible so as not to scare the prairie dog*

rat: *asking to be taken out of her cage and cuddled!*

Blackwing: *also laying down as low as he can, waiting for the guy to come out* *will stick a finger in the rat's cage and scritch her*

rat: *loves you, finger! Kissie!*

Ironhide: *pats Starforge on the back to tell him to move his butt and let bots by, then settles in the big armchair with Chromia on his lap and pizza and botbeer at hand* *turns TV on*

Starforge: *looks over shoulder at the sounds and the smells now coming from his parents' direction* *curious rumble*

Blackwing: *giggling soundlessly at the rat's kisses but still focusing all his attention and worry on the prairie dog*

rat: *squeaks and clings to his finger, begging to be taken out of her cage and cuddled*

Starforge: *looks back at sound of the squeaks* Here. *opens that cage too*

rat: *up the wall and out! Heads right for Blackwing, her whiskers waving happily*

Blackwing: *startled blink at the squeak! He was going to take her out later, but here she is so he'll indulge her for now* *holds out a shiny hand*

rat: *transfers herself from the side of her cage to the hand, and then sits there with her paws folded close to her chest and gives him the look that always made Jazz coo to her*

Blackwing: *smiles and pulls her close, petting her gently and wondering what her name was again. Looks around for Beachbreak, sighing when he doesn't find him*

Starforge: *softly* What do you need? Pizza? *offers a tiny piece of the lovely smelling energon goodie*

Blackwing: *well that makes him forget about the name. Takes the piece and happily chews on it*

Starforge: *pokes him gently, and then looks toward the door as it opens* Hi.

Beachbreak: Hi! Is Blackwing here?

Blackwing: *perks at the voice, waving with his pizza-coated hand*

prairie dog: *feeling the attentions of the room elsewhere, finally peeks his nose out of his container for a test sniff*

Starforge: *soon lifts the second little bot up to where he can sit on the corner of Blackwing's nest. Then gives him pizza and botbeer* *softly* Don't look at the cage with the can in it.

Beachbreak: Not looking. Hi, Splinter!

rat: *someone said her name? Oh, HI! Friend!*

Blackwing: *smiles at the name and commits it to memory. Quickly hands Splinter over to the other bot before she jumps out of his hand*

Beachbreak: *cuddles the ratty and offers her some little bits of dried grass that he pulls out of his storage pocket*

Splinter: *oooo, treat! Sits up and noms daintily*

Blackwing: *tilts head* Is that what Splinters eat?

Beachbreak: Yup. *points to a couple bags in the corner of Blackwing's nest* She likes all kinds of plant food. Jazz probably left you the rat care book along with her food and toy bags.

Blackwing: *gives an acknowledging coo and decides to read the book later. Notices the prairie dog looking around his cage and smiles*

Beachbreak: *looks down, and decides that a ten foot tall guy can fit in this nest if Blackwing doesn't mind* Can I sit with you?

Blackwing: *smiles and moves over, next to the prairie dog's cage so he can keep an eye on the guy, and keeps munching on his pizza. Now has a view of the TV and is curious what's going on*

Ironhide: *glances over from where he's cuddling his mate and watching the football game start* You want something to drink, Blackwing?

Blackwing: *nods* Please.

Ironhide: Botbeer or sweet fizzy?

Beachbreak: I like botbeer.

Starforge: *chugging from a big can* And the fizzy's good too.

Blackwing: *blinks and thinks a moment* Botbeer.

Beachbreak: I'll share mine. *offers the old shell casing he's drinking from*

Blackwing: Thank you. *takes it and sips gingerly, squeaking at the surprise of bitterness and handing it back*

Beachbreak: No? *looks into his cup*

Blackwing: *shakes his head as politely as he can and downs the rest of the pizza*

Starforge: Here. *offers another shell casing, this one fizzing gently*

Ironhide: *watching kids now instead of football*

Blackwing: *dubiously tries this one, perking at the fizz and the slight tang* Can I have some? *hands it back, not wanting to take Starforge's and hoping for a cup of his own*

Starforge: *chuckles and shows Blackwing the can he's holding* That's yours.

Blackwing: *blinks at it, not seeing any other cup for Starforge around the room*

Starforge: *tips up that can in his hand and chugs happily*

Beachbreak: *offers Blackwing a piece of silicon tubing tied into a cool curly straw*

Blackwing: *relieved, takes the straw and turns it around curiously*

Beachbreak: That end goes in the can, and that end goes in your mouth, and then you apply suction.

Blackwing: *does as instructed, and the pinkish liquid curls up the straw in a silly way! Very pleased*

Ironhide: *pleased rumble as his kids settle down to chat quietly and share pizza. Turns back to the game and cuddling his wife. Those close to him will probably be able to pick up flashes of the gruff old soldier's quiet shock and intense thankfulness to be sitting here with Starforge returned and another young son beside him*


((Written by ssjmihoshi and random_xtras.))