Note: "normal speech", "comm line", worry/fear: emotions through the bond

Sweet Child o' Mine - Chapter 9

Going

Sunstorm literally flew towards the Elite Trine's chambers, eager to tell Starscream what he just saw. In his hurry, he didn't notice the mech standing just around the corner and crashed into him heavily. The flier who struggled to get up from their tangle felt distinctly cold and Sunstorm had a sudden suspicion as to who it was. Rolling quickly away, he just avoided by a blast of frigid air.

"Stop it, Icestorm! Starscream did say no to storms in the base! Or do you want mine in exchange?" – he was exaggerating of course, as he could never control his gift the way the Rainmakers could.

"Watch then where you're going Blaze Boy!" – the blue Seeker actually liked Sunstorm, but since Acid Storm, who boasted of being their future trine leader, had they ever found their third, always sneered at the younger Seeker, he never showed it to the golden jet. – "What the Pit made you fly in the base anyway? That one is forbidden too!"

"Say, Icestorm, you heard about that youngling, right?"

"Yeah. You spread the story to every one of us."

"I believe I just saw Autobots in the base trying to break him out. Isn't it marvelous?" – Sunstorm was almost as excited if it was his sparkling, which of course wouldn't happen for many vorns yet, if ever. He was barely more than a sparkling by Seeker standards. Icestorm looked at him suspiciously.

"Autobots in the base? And don't you… you know want to report it?"

"That's why I was in a hurry! Soundwave had to deal with an idiot attack, Shockwave's locked in with an experiment and you don't disturb Lord Megatron's recharge cycle if you want to remain in the land of the functioning. So Starscream is the highest ranking officer."

"You could've just raised the alarm." – Icestorm didn't understand the golden Seeker sometimes, much as he was kinda… cute for it. He often sounded as though his own radiation addled his processor. Which was probably the case.

"But the alarm was already on for the attack!" – right, Sunstorm knew that he was prevaricating somewhat, but then, it was for a good cause. Primus would surely forgave him this much under the circumstances.

Though he would've rather stayed, as the blue Seeker was almost nice sometimes and definitely good-looking, even if not in Starscream's class, but he really wanted to tell this to the Air Commander. So, somewhat ruing the wasted opportunity to talk with him without the snobbish Acid Storm, but the golden Seeker managed to leave Icestorm and knocked on Starscream's door. When the serious and drawn-looking Starscream opened the door, he started to speak so fast that he was unknowingly emulating an Autobot named Blurr.

"Commander, Commander, I have great news! I saw two Autobots just now and they are going to free Blackfoot, I'm sure! There is an attack from other Autobots also, but I'm sure it is just a diversion to draw away Soundwave!"

Starscream looked incredulously at Sunstorm. He didn't think the Seeker was lying but he was known to act… strangely on occasions. Thundercracker too was wary behind him, but willing to listen to the excited Seeker.

"Right. Two Autobots in the base and only you saw them."

"Yes, well, one had a hologram of Crankshaft, you know Commander, the grounder who was deactivated yesterorn in that brawl, and the other was invisible."

"And they told you that they were going to free Blackfoot."

"Yes. I helped them by telling the way!" – Sunstorm was beaming at Starscream, sure that his Commander would be approving his actions so far. – "No grounder saw it I swear!"

Starscream and Thundercracker looked at each other, quickly thinking the situation over. Skywarp was away on a mission that they weren't told, but the teleporter was the one among them the hardest one to hold if needed. If Blackfoot was freed, they could get away too. Starscream opened up the bond to his son and promptly got a hope/free/where from the youngling, clearly signalling that something positive happened, even in the imprecise way of the emotions. He couldn't help but answer him with a love/glee and decide that he'd trust Sunstorm's information.

"Right. TC, we are going for it. Sunstorm, you haven't seen us, haven't heard of us, and you most definitely didn't see any Autobots, right?"

"Clear, Commander! I was chatting with Icestorm all joor and missed all excitement!"

Starscream almost smiled at the younger Seeker. Sunstorm in the last few groons grew from a relative nobody into a hidden power, simply by spreading information and being friendly with the other Seekers. Of course he was very young yet and untrined as well, but the mech had potential. He'd told as much to the slightly snobbish Acid Storm just a few orns before – the golden Seeker would nicely complete their duo into a full trine. Maybe not in the way the Rainmaker wanted it, he smirked; Sunstorm had a leadership quality in him once he shed his insecurities and grew a bit in experiences.

As Air Commander, it was his duty to care for his mechs not only in the air, but socially too, by helping them to get over their misgivings and make connections among them. Seekers functioned best in Trines and a good leader had to help along potential members if they were too shy to act or otherwise hampered in it. Even in a midst of a situation like now, while they were collecting their most important belongings, knowing that they wouldn't return soon.

The Seekers were the only thing that made him loath to leave, as it felt too much of abandoning them to Megatron's mercy. But Sunstorm and Darkwind were both careful to cover their involvement and although Starscream knew that Soundwave would suspect them, he trusted Megatron being blind enough to blame it all on the Autobots and their Trine only. He could take the warlord's wrath once Blackfoot was safe and they left the Decepticons.

"Support Darkwind for Air Commander. He is a good Seeker." – he advised Sunstorm before leaving. – "and don't let Soundwave sow doubts in the air ranks. Remind every Seeker that we don't listen to outsiders in our matters."

"I will Commander!"

Halfway out, Starscream turned back once more. – "And Sunstorm… remind the Seekers why we joined the Decepticons. Also where we could have winglets now. Not here, as it was proven."

Sunstorm looked uncharacteristically somber as he answered. – "Understand Commander. I will."

Gone

Hound tried to be as nonchalant leaving as he was on the way in but it was harder with Mirage hiding Blackfoot and the alarm wailing its unnerving sound all over the base, awakening every Decepticon who scurried on the corridors, trying to find anyone in charge. As far as they understood from snatched bits of overheard conversations, Soundwave and Megatron were both where the so-called Autobot attack occurred and neither of them so far suspected it to be a decoy for another mission. It definitely paid off to have Jazz with the other team.

But they knew that it wasn't going to last for long, so they needed to leave as fast as they could, before being discovered. Invisibility lasted only as long as no mech ran into you in full tilt, crashing into seemingly empty air. It was highly fortunate that Blackfoot reacted fast while Mirage was brought down, and with a strong swipe of his arm hit the unfortunate Con across the faceplates, breaking both optics.

"Quick thinking Blackfoot, well done." – he praised the youngling while putting the Con offline with a well-practiced move and helping the dazed Mirage up.

"O-okay." – it was the first time he looked a real youngling, with an almost scared expression and staring nervously at his own servo which has just harmed a mech. Probably the first time, Hound mused, that he had to put his training into reality. Never an easy experience and he was still a youngster. Poor kid, he had to grow up way too fast.

"Don't worry about that." – he touched a tense shoulder gently – "it was necessary and you did well."

"Yeah…" – Blackfoot knew that the Autobot was right, but he still felt bad for hurting an unknown mech. He was a danger to them and so it had to be done and Blackfoot didn't even hesitate before swinging the punch. He also knew that the Decepticon wouldn't have the slightest compunction had he had a chance of injuring them, raising the alarm or even deactivating any of them if he could. In a way the whole experience was sobering to see firsthand what his Sire told him about, how the Decepticon army and its mechs worked.

He also knew now for sure that he'd never make a good Decepticon, couldn't even play it as a role for long. He gladly admitted that he was too soft, too squeamish for it and admired his Sire even more to be able to survive and moreover to fight his way to the top in this environment – and keep his better nature untouched more or less in the process too. Blackfoot knew that his softer, more forgiving emotions existed in Starscream too, still after so many vorns of being the Decepticon Air Commander – but he kept them carefully walled off, hidden and only shown to his Trine, to his Seekers somewhat and lately to his son.

It didn't take long to think this all over, as they were running on the endless corridors of the base, avoiding the occasional Cons running this way and that. But before they could leave their luck ran out. A squad leader appeared in the doorway in front of them, backed up by two other Cons and yelled angrily at what he saw to be Crankshaft for going the wrong way, herding him and his companions unknowingly towards the way they wanted to avoid. Where the other team was doing its best to create a disturbance for them to get away.

"Slag." – was Hound's only reaction to it and Mirage agreed wordlessly. He couldn't even get away with Blackfoot, the Cons didn't leave enough space for the two of them to get through. "Slip away as soon as you can with Blackfoot."- he commed to the noblemech – "I'll try to join Jazz's group when we're close enough."

"Be careful." – was Mirage's laconic answer. They were both spec ops, well used to danger and in general being among Decepticons. Mirage had it easier but Hound has so far passed as Decepticon well and they've always returned from their missions.

"Always, 'Raj."

They followed the Cons out of a smaller exit and assessed the situation quickly. Jazz's team was under heavy fire and surrounded completely in a ruin, not far from the base. They could hardly dare to pop up for a quick shot or two before having to duck again – and Hound couldn't even see Jazz himself, only the three brighter coloured frontliners with him. Maybe he was doing his special kind of magic and sow destruction to the Cons, Hound tried to convince himself, but the uncomfortable feeling grew in him.

Doing

When Jazz was shot and fell into Sunstreaker's servos limp and unmoving, Sideswipe started to worry a tiny bit. They really had a problem on their servos with drawing a bit more attention to themselves than they intended. When he saw Megatron appearing in the exit, Sideswipe gulped nervously and his servo tightened on his blaster. This was truly getting out of what they could handle; the warlord alone would be enemy enough for the three of them together and he had half his army around him too.

The twins have secretly itched to try and make it into a two-on-one fight with the silver mech for quite a long time. He was a former gladiator as they heard and so were they; measuring themselves against an opponent servo in servo to servo fight was in their nature and something they would gladly do so. But, as it was kinda hard to get Megatron away from his army, so it never happened so far. The twins were reckless and bold in battles but suicide tendencies they definitely didn't have. No matter what Ratchet thought.

Nor would it happen here, as Sunny was already injured and himself had some painful itching from the molten shrapnel earlier – and they had the offline and injured-looking Jazz too to think of. Pretty soon, he was sure that the Cons would get bored of shooting and blitzed them – and they would stand no chance really as things stood. Had they helped enough to the other team?

"Sides! Sides! What the frag are we doing now?" – great, Hot Rod apparently realized the same and looked at him to make up some sort of a solution. Why him? He was no officer either. Jazz showed no intention of getting online any time soon and neither of them was a medic to fix whatever was wrong with him. But they would have to do something… a questioning look at Sunstreaker yielded no answer, only some shrugs while he continued shooting and Sideswipe cursed inwardly. If… no, no, no… WHEN they got back he would borrow some of Prowl's tactical datapads. Just in case.

"Okay," – he said in a croaked voice – "Sunny, you carry Jazz, while Roddy and I force a way out somehow. Maybe we get lucky and get through."

The fact that Sunstreaker didn't object showed just how serious his injury was. When the battered trio rose from the ruins of the building the Cons surged forward, almost every mech was eager to have the glory of capturing an Autobot warrior, and able to do it in front of their leader at that. The battlefield became chaotic, even the commanders and lieutenants loosing sight of the lines, not even caring much the Autobots were so much outnumbered. It wasn't even surprising that a stray beam from a fumbling blaster found a target where no mech expected it.

Mirage's angry shout at the damage to his disruptor was lost in the general ruckus and battlefield noise, but the appearance of two mechs did draw some optics. Unfortunately for them, one pair belonged to Soundwave who recognized both the spy and the youngling at once. Despite of his earlier doubts, the telepath didn't hesitate a klik before notifying Megatron of the youngling's escape. If anything, the youngling's escape with an Autobot just proved him that Starscream was not betraying them… this time.

Mirage tried to drag Blackfoot to safety, but such a place was hard to find in the impromptu, chaotic battlefield. Impossible really. Hound saw them appearing and changed course, barreling towards the pair, desperate to help his friend and their charge too. On the middle of the battlefield, Sideswipe with his team and with Jazz on Sunstreaker's shoulder tried to break through, but the Cons were just simply too many. Desperate, messy shooting in any direction; explosions of every kind and shouting, yelling, screaming merged into a cacophony of impending death.

But as everything seemed to go south, they suddenly saw the Decepticon attack relenting, their fire weakening and the mechs turning their attention from them towards… towards the sky. From above the Con base a pair of fliers rose and attacked Megatron's forces from behind, where they expected no enemy. The cavalry came, albeit in a quite unexpected form. The two Seekers were past their doubts and the Autobots' actions put them into a position where they didn't have many options.

Once Blackfoot was free and with the Autobots again, Megatron's hold on Starscream became only as much as he could exact with force. With the warlord's handling of Blackfoot he lost any loyalty Starscream may have held before towards the cause and owed to himself personally. That his Trine went wherever he decided to was not even a matter of debate; in a true Trine extremely strong reasons were required to question the Trine-leader's decision and this was not the case there. Skywarp and Thundercracker supported him fully in this, even so far as leaving the Decepticons with him.

Starscream had a more personal dilemma really; he didn't want to join the Bots, but Blackfoot was connected to them with a number of very strong ties. Since he gave his word to Prowl to let Blackfoot decide his fate, he had to allow the youngling to go to Iacon – but at the same time he didn't want to leave his son again for a long-long time, wanting to teach him flying and to be a real Seeker. It meant that they would have to join the Autobots - at least as much as they'd let them do that.

He wasn't all that sure about that part either. Sure, Blackfoot alluded that the Prime could annul his vow of loyalty to the Decepticons, sure, Prowl was hinting that their defection would be welcomed, but still. After all, he was the Decepticon Air Commander, the highest ranking of his faction to ever defect and besides well known and hated by most Autobots. Starscream was fairly sure that many a Bot would gladly nail his wings to the walls of their quarters as a trophy – even if he defected.

But having Optimus Prime and Prowl on their side had to count for something, he concluded. If they declared them defectors and trustworthy, they could take on the rest of the Autobots and their prejudices; after all it wouldn't be that much different from the Cons, who hated and envied Seekers and infighting was actually encouraged there. Starscream was sure that nothing that the Bots would do against them could come close to what they had to fight off every orn in the Decepticon army.

This musing was done between the moment they left their quarters and when they killed the first guard who stood on their way, near the exit. They could have turned back even after that, but they didn't want to, not any more. Skywarp was babbling something in the comm about Prowl discovering him and telling him to return and help and if Soundwave was catching any of that, he'd know where they stood. The black Seeker wasn't the most covert mech by nature and excitement made him even more careless.

Just as they left the base Starscream saw the developing battle out of what they'd thought to be just a diversion for the covert mission. If it was that, then it apparently went astray, as the Autobots – those flamboyantly coloured frontliners – were encircled completely and under heavy fire. As things stood they'd be overrun in breems and either taken as prisoners or deactivated on the spot, neither promising much good for their continued wellbeing.

With a quick look at Thundercracker, to ascertain that the blue Seeker would follow him, Starscream decided to intervene. Diving towards the unprotected backs of the Cons, they opened fire at them, making short work of the unsuspecting mechs and creating a chaos in their lines. As he pulled up, Starscream saw Megatron, raving mad with fury and shaking his fist towards them; but he didn't stop to listen to what he had to say. Probably just obscenities and threats as he usually did. Lately he was more often frothing in the mouth than not, when things didn't go as he planned them.

Turning back in a tight roll for another pass, they now had to avoid the sporadic return fire too, but it was worth it; the Autobots were able to break through and started to retreat towards their base. Thundercracker flattened some grounder Cons with his sonic boom, and Starscream saw with great satisfaction that Soundwave too was covering his audials uselessly. Fragger deserved it. The Autobots had the black and white saboteur with them as well, apparently offline. But just as the situation started to normalize, several things happened at once.

At the side of the battlefield, suddenly two frames started to take form, appearing from nothingness. As Starscream recognized them, he knew why. The invisible spy had Blackfoot with him under the cover of his disruptor; which was probably shot by accident and they lost their cover. The chaotic battle suddenly swirled to center on them as many mechs from both sides ran or flew towards them whether to kill or apprehend the young mech and his companion or help them to get away.

But by a twisted design of fate, Megatron was the closest to them. The enraged warlord lifted his fusion cannon at the youngster, while he looked at the Seeker sneering, gloating, triumphant. They had no cover, no way to hide or get away, the thoughts flashed through the Seeker like lightning. The spy's armour might be able to protect him enough to survive, but Blackfoot's most definitely was not strong enough – Starscream knew the design parameters of that frame intimately to know it for sure.

He didn't hear the sneering words that Megatron spewed only saw his mouth-plates move. He didn't need to. He could imagine them quite well: you failed yet again, Starscream… he heard them a lot lately. But he wouldn't fail now, desperation made him even faster than ever before. He dived desperately towards them, but his null-rays have always been ineffective against Megatron and he fired them futilely this time too. He screamed loudly as he saw the deadly violet glow gathering at the cannon's muzzle, knew that he would be late, everyone would be late and he would lose Blackfoot once again and forever this time.

He wasn't in time. The purple glow shot out of the cannon's barrel and Starscream saw the sick satisfaction dancing on the warlord's faceplates. He ignored the rest of the battle, the shooting, the yells and screams, the sounds of mechs fighting and dying; he only saw that small shape that stood frozen in the line of fire and flew with the speed only he was capable of attaining, faster than ever before, pushing several of his systems well into the red zone - but which still wasn't quite enough… he would arrive late but maybe he could still grab the youngling's frame and hope that by a miracle he survived and a medic could save him.

But it wasn't needed. At the last possible klik another frame, a bigger one rose in front of him and took the violent discharge of the fusion cannon. Its force threw him into Blackfoot, the violet energy roiling angrily around them, angry like its master that it could not engulf its intended target. Black and energy-blackened reddish-orange tumbled on the ground, with the slowly dissipating purple energy crackling on their plates, while Starscream barreled down Megatron like the warlord was nothing more than a bowling pin - and when he started to rise again, the later arriving Thundercracker flattened him with a desperate boom.

Autobots and Seekers converged by this time on the three fallen figures, out of which Mirage rose the first, having more or less shielded from the blast by the other two – but even he had some smoking joints to show for the blast. But the other two was definitely worse. They were both blackened now, any colours they had was burnt and peeled back to reveal naked metals by the energies the fusion cannon – and that was only the surface effect of it.

None of them moved for a while and Starscream, landing beside them needed a few kliks to even tell them apart; the spoilered frames interestingly similar in shape, like a smaller and a larger version of the same mold. But after a while he realized that one of them was definitely bigger and he vented a small relief at the fact that the smaller frame moved first. Blackfoot's first 'owww' was greeted by a relieved sigh from the Autobots gathering around and the Seekers who landed beside them – the two groups were, for awhile quite unified by their worry for the youngling.

But they weren't out of danger just yet. They were still outnumbered by the Decepticons and Megatron too started to get up, murderously angry at the Seekers, the Autobots and his own army too that let his captive escape and wasn't even able to deactivate three mechs outnumbered and encircled by them. He roared and shouted his razzing and flak at them while ordering everyone to get themselves together and finish the damaged and retreating Autobots. He quite ignored the dents and injuries that the Seeker caused on his frame – they were only minor inconveniences to him.

All Autobots were by this time visible and together and they were still less in numbers than their attackers, not to mention the offline and damaged Jazz, Blackfoot and the critical-looking Hot Rod. Shaken up by the events of the joor, under increasing fire again and carrying their wounded, they tried to retreat towards safety. Even by counting the two Seekers in, they still had little chance – not that it discouraged them.

It became much easier when a purple flash appeared in their midst and took the injured mechs out of immediate danger. Skywarp couldn't teleport them to Iacon of course, as it was too far even for his talent, but by freeing the servos of the Autobots he gave them a little more chance to escape. Starscream was torn between going after him to help Blackfoot or stay to help the Autobots; what finally decided it was when Skywarp returned and hurriedly told him that Prowl, Ratchet and a few more were on their way and able to help the injured bots where he took them.

It gave the little group more free servos to fight and the Seekers a peace of mind to help them; together they could retreat orderly, Prowl taking over orchestrating it and shoot down enough Cons to discourage the rest from pursuing them. Even Megatron gave up the futile chase after he saw Skywarp's unmistakable effect among them and Soundwave's repeated orders failed to draw any of the other Seekers into the battlefield. The telepath was sure that the Seekers were only passively supporting their commander and their failure to appear on the battlefield was only because it was Starscream himself on the other side.

Megatron didn't like it at all and promised them punishment aplenty once they got back to the base; but since Darkwind was still away, the Seekers had no real leader and therefore couldn't be blamed for not following orders. After all, it was the reason why they had an Air Commander; to convey the orders of the leader of the whole – and mostly grounder - army to the always standoffish fliers. Losing their winglord, the Seekers fell into an anarchy that was more than slightly exaggerated to fool Megatron and disperse the blame.

Done

Prowl and his party arrived at the agreed upon place just after he saw the black Seeker teleporting away. After going into the abandoned factory they saw three frames lying on the ground, instead of the one expected. Ratchet was on their side immediately, cursing under his vents at the condition of the spoilered frames. Only Blackfoot was online and he too seemed dazed, unable to stand and nearly incoherent.

"What happened?"

"Fragging Megatron's cannon, that's what happened. To both of them."

Ratchet snarled his answer, while his servos were flying over Hot Rod's blackened plating, sparking with stray energies still and bleeding energon in a dozen places. He was by far in the worst condition, Megatron's shot basically vaporizing a good chunk of his side, taking the arm on that side too and frying a lot of his systems by the energies of the shot. Blackfoot, partially protected by him got only a grazing shot that still made short work of his far lighter armour but apparently didn't cause serious injuries underneath.

First Aid cast a cursory scan on the youngling, but moved on to the offline Jazz immediately. He had a nasty shot in the black plates but it didn't seem to go through and while it destroyed the back struts and tore a lot of wires and tubes, it didn't seem to hit anything vital. He lost a lot of energon though and the younger medic hurried to stop his bleeding and get some into him. Fortunately he was in a firm stasis, unlikely to come out any time soon, to feel the hasty work on his back.

Prowl hugged the still shaking youngling briefly, but he had a lot still to do. If the hurried comms were any indication, the Autobot group was still in a precarious situation and needing their help to escape. Directing his mechs towards the battle while keeping enough around to defend the injured he checked on the medics.

"Can they be moved soon?"

"Jazz can be now if needed." – First Aid answered first, having immobilized the saboteur to avoid any more damage to his back struts and closing off the torn energon lines. He was out of immediate danger, albeit needing a lot of work still, back in the med-bay. The medic moved over to Ratchet, to help him stabilize the flame-coloured mech. If the older medic's scowling intensity was any indication, he was not in a good way, although he didn't waste his ex-vents to answer to Prowl's question.

Together the two medics worked feverishly to stabilize Hot Rod, to patch all the ruptured lines that bled his energon onto the ground, to rewire hastily the most important lines and to yank out the blackened circuitry that sent faulty messages onto his network. The fusion cannon was a nasty weapon, causing not only plenty of physical damage but throwing any electronic systems into haywire with its incredible energies. The damaged, misfiring systems then caused everything else they connected to collapsing, capable of deactivating a mech on the cascade failures alone, even if the more visible damage was patched.

Blackfoot sat on the ground shivering, the stray energies running through his systems too, only slightly less potent, weakened by the time it reached him. He felt it as numerous error and pain messages flooding his HUD, but even he knew that they weren't immediately life-threatening and his self-repair has already started on them. What he absolutely didn't understand was why the other mech shielded him from Megatron's blast. It went way beyond repaying his debt, likely costing him his very life.

A blast of that fusion cannon in full strength was perfectly capable of deactivating a grown mech with armour on at once if he got it straight on. Pit, it was capable of doing that still, despite of two medics working on him. Hot Rod must have known that, he was a warrior, he had to have seen Megatron's weapon before, known how deadly it was. Why did he put himself in front of that blast then? To save a youngling he despised and still occasionally called a Con spawn?

Despite of their… truce, matters were still heavily wrought with mistrust between them. Blackfoot was even surprised to see the flame-coloured mech with the rescue party, although that, he could put down as the mech wanting to repay the debt that he felt owing to the youngling who saved his life in that terrorist attack. Yes, that much he could understand and even consider possible from a mech like Hot Rod. A daring, showy rescue, firefight with the Cons, taunting them and yelling insults that he could later boast with flair to the others in the base. It was totally in character for the Bot.

But not a dangerous, likely fatal act to save a youngling he had such a tenuous, nervous and mistrusting relationship. Not going against Megatron's fusion cannon and expecting to live to boast of the experience. Not rescuing him when everyone else had failed in it in some way. Blackfoot had to consider that after all, the mech could still surprise him by doing something completely unexpected and truly heroic.

Blackfoot sat there, trembling occasionally, as a stray charge still hit a sensitive circuit or raw node and dumbly stared at them. Hot Rod looked like dead with all the blackened, colourless plates, the sparking wires and the pools of energon on the ground, but since the medics still worked on him, he supposed that there was still a chance for him to make it. Had he got more strength, he'd have offered help to the medics, but realistically he knew that even standing upright was outside of his abilities still.

Lifting his gaze he saw Prowl, standing completely still, optics turning inwards and directing the affair through his comm and from his mental map that served him almost as well as he could truly see the battlefield with his own optics. He knew of no other mech who was capable of doing this, trusting his battle computer completely to act correctly from the scant information of the markers that each mech carried and the chaotic comm messages.

He saw their guards shifting uneasily sometimes, hearing the noises of the battle as they were not far but unable to join it, leaving their comrades to their fate – and the mercy of the tactician to command them well from afar. It mustn't have been easy to trust him thus. It was so different to hear the noises, to see Prowl in deep concentration, to know that his friends, his Sire was fighting for their lives nearby. Different from being left behind on the base and know intellectually only that they went into a battle and might never return.

It made his spark swirly uneasily, nervously and not from the small shocks still running through his frame. Starscream was there, he heard the familiar screech sometimes; his trine-mates, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker… mech whom he knew and loved. They were fighting for their lives… because of him. To free him, to save him, to let him have a choice of growing up as he wanted to. It was strange how many friends he made in such a short time after being alone for vorns, ostracized and despised as a Con-spawn… Blackfoot wasn't even sure what made the difference.

"Blackfoot! Can you come over here?" – he heard First Aid's soft voice calling him from where he was working. – "He needs someone to hold him steady."

Hot Rod seemingly started to regain some consciousness and the pain that must have been cursing all over him made him jerk and twitch randomly, fouling the medics' work. Ratchet looked stormy and almost hopeless, freezing Blackfoot's spark for a nanoklik. He'd always looked this way when he was about to loose a… no, stop that thought. He shuffled over and after a klik of unnerved staring of where to hold the damaged plating down, he gently touched the whole shoulder until he was holding it with a firm servo, restraining the involuntary twitches. He found that his left arm was quite unresponsive too – so far it wasn't even noticeable among the dozens of error messages scrolling uselessly in his HUD.

He looked bad from up close too. What plating wasn't torn and damaged by the blast was cut by the medics to reach underneath. His bright, flashy colours were almost completely gone, seared by the shot and blackened by soot and dirt. The spoiler was completely torn off and Blackfoot's own twitched in nervous sympathy. The left arm was also gone, along with most of his frame on that side – the innards, wires, tubes and circuitry hanging out was an obscene sight, especially with the hasty patches and repairs done there.

The medics were both working in his open chest cavity, servos deep in his innards, pulling out far more fried circuitry than they replaced. It was sick. No, it was frightening to see them like this, seemingly vandalizing a living mech's insides, like scavengers would a fallen prey… or torturers would a helpless prisoner, his dazed processor whispered. Blackfoot shook his helm strongly to dispel such thoughts. They were medics. He knew them, learned from them, helped them. They knew what they were doing.

The frantic work slowed after a few more breems. It had to, Blackfoot thought, there weren't much else in there that could go wrong, that could be pulled out without a full med-bay, life support and whatnot. He still held onto the twitching shoulder and secretly he was glad that it had not gone gray while under his servo. He wasn't sure how he would have reacted to that. A memory rose up suddenly, one that he managed to suppress during all those vorns…

A gold striped black servo, exactly like his own that held it. Yanked it in fact, the small youngling trying to pull his Carrier from under the rubble that used to be their home. He was quiet, well used to hiding and not calling attention to himself, crying only inwards, because Carrier was offline and didn't answer, his friend who went into the house for energon goodies didn't answer either, because the whole village was quiet and no mech else answered, because he could only smell burning and stale energon from everywhere…

He was grown enough to know how dead mechs' colours bled out, leaving them gray and cold. His Carrier's servo, the only thing he could clearly see of him was not yet that lack of colour, Blackfoot could see the beautiful golden stripe still, even though he didn't answer. So he hoped. He ran back to the house as soon as the explosions and the mechs' yelling stopped, from the small hideout in the garden, where he played out the roles from the datapad-novels and movies. Unlike those stories, it was nothing heroic, only a few joors of hiding in terror and listening to the Decepticons systematically destroy everything and every mech in the village.

And now, when he dared to go back he found his Carrier alive. How long, he didn't know. Nor could he pull him out or clear away the rubble. Nor was there any mech nearby to help him. He sat there, holding onto a servo, his processor frozen in disbelief, shock and helplessness. Swiftstrike never regained consciousness, never came online even for a nanoklik again. The burning rubble shifted instead and fell, barely missing the youngling frozen on the spot. It tore the already damaged servo off and buried the rest of the frame under several more tons of metal.

Blackfoot stared dimly at the servo as the golden stripe lost its shine and the beautiful black thinned out to dead grey. He thought to cry but even that thought was far away, removed from him and distant like somemech else thought it. He stood numbly, holding the servo still and like a drone moved away, stumbling on the uneven ground. He felt the finality of the klik but he didn't look back. No reason to watch the ruins where he lived so far. Move. Escape. Hide. Wait for Sire to come back. He has always come.

Blackfoot came out of the memory trip with a jerking under his servo. Hurriedly, he held Hot Rod unmoving, shamed by his lapse of attention, but when he saw the medics straighten up, he felt a cautious hope. Another twitch caught his attention, Hot Rod's servo moved this time and Blackfoot was suddenly gripped by a very strange feeling. The soot-blackened arm had only a patch of yellowish-gold at the end that showed up from his colours. It was way beyond queer after the memory he just had. It was ominous.

"He'll be fine now, once we get him to med-bay." – Ratchet was still angry but in a way relieved too and past caring that it showed. Prowl nodded, absorbing the information along with everything else and took time to answer him.

"The others are on their way here too. Megatron ordered a retreat." – he paused, listening to reports and continued after a breem – "No casualties and only light injuries among them."

"Thank Primus." – was Ratchet's only reaction. – "He was touch and go for a good while."

"Prowl…" – Blackfoot was hesitant to ask but he had to know. – "What about Sire? I think I saw him just before… before the shot."

"Yes, Starscream and his Trine had joined the battle too… on our side." – He looked warmly at the suddenly eager, hopeful youngling and continued. – "It won't be easy at first, but we will manage. I'm not sure whether they'll be defecting or going Neutral, but they definitely can't go back to the Decepticons now."

"Great. It's not enough to have practical jokers and foolhardy frontliners in the ranks, but we absolutely must have snarking Air Commanders and teleporting pranksters too. With them, we will surely beat Megatron." – If Ratchet was snarking then his patients must have been as stable and sound as he could make them on the field.

"With fliers we stand a far greater chance and you know it Ratchet." – Prowl was ever logical, even as he knew it to be useless against the medic's grouching.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Between Wheeljack, the twins and Skywarp now, we won't have a base soon and all the minis will quit."

Blackfoot snickered quietly, his dark mood disappearing as things started to become more hopeful. He knew that, as Prowl warned him, things won't solve themselves miraculously when they get back to Iacon; Starscream would be considered a threat and mistrusted by most mechs for a good while. Even with the top officers knowing his intention and reasons for leaving Megatron, the suspicion and prejudices of the soldiers would not be dispelled easily, and this time it would fall on him too. But the thought of being with his Sire freely and learning to fly from him overwrote every other concern.