Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers

Third Time's a Charm

Chapter 1: First Meeting

"Oh come on!" Silverstreak whined pathetically, "Just one more Autobot. It's not like there aren't plenty to go around. I swear to Primus they won't even know what hit them. All you have to do is let me use your riffle for one shot. It won't be for long, I'll even give it back in one piece."

"I told you to bring extra ammo." An impassive voice replied from his spot on the ledge. "But you didn't listen. You know I don't like it when others use my weapons, especially my acid pellet riffle."

"Silverstreak, it's not you, it's everyone. Bodycount won't even let me use his stuff and I'm older than you!" Gambler tucked his own weapon into his subspace, hoping that Silverstreak didn't see it and get any ideas.

"Then how about I borrow your throwing daggers? I'll reclaim them when I'm done."

"No." Gambler answered, making sure that the remainder of his weapons were properly hidden from the slightly smaller Praxian. "If Bodycount won't let us attack from up close, then it's pointless for you to use my daggers. You'd still be putting yourself into direct line of fire and we both know how he gets."

"B-b-but." Silverstreak pouted.

"No, Silverstreak." Bodycount spoke up, twitching his doorwings before standing to dislodge any debris that might have accumulated. "It's time to go. They're back to the meeting point."

"Aw… It was just getting fun." Silverstreak's doorwings drooped as he slid across the ledge to the main path which was more visible and was less likely to cause the Praxians to fall to their death.

Soundwave entered the sparsely decorated office. "Inquiry: Results of raid?"

"Five casualties, all of which are in the medbay being treated by Hook." Bodycount replied in a manner reminiscent of boredom. "Targeted supplies and Intel have been successfully obtained. As such, they have been moved to the proper departments."

"Inquiry: Number of Autobot deaths?"

"Thirty two deaths and seventeen casualties." Bodycount sent a pointed look at Silverstreak's direction as the 'con lounged in the corner while giving his sniper rifle a thorough cleaning. "Optimus Prime was one of the casualties and has been moved to another base for better protection."

"It was my last bullet!" Silverstreak protested, "How was I supposed to know that he would be there, let alone be closely watched by that walking pair of cannons?!"

Bodycount rubbed his chevron tiredly, "It's been a long decacycle. If you don't mind, I'm going to retire for the night. Silverstreak, make sure Gambler doesn't get into too much trouble this time. I don't want to have to explain to Megatron why a handful of troops are dead again."

"Advice: Sleep, defrag and keep your trinemates out of trouble." With that, Soundwave left the office, leaving the two Praxians behind as the cassette player headed to his own quarters.

Bodycount turned his attention to Silverstreak, "Don't get into trouble again. Break up the fight, don't encourage it. No high-grade for either you or Gambler and be sure to get some sleep and defrag sometime tonight. We're all getting up bright and early for combat practice."

Silverstreak scrunched up his faceplate, "But I don't want to practice on drones! Why don't we work on the prisoners or better yet, go play at an Autobot base?"

Bodycount sighed, "We need to keep our skills sharp and the nearby bases are on lockdown."

Silverstreak grinned, "That makes it even more fun."

Bodycount shook his helm in defeat before getting up from his rather comfortable chair. He then ushered Silverstreak out of his office and made sure that it was securely locked behind him before heading to their shared quarters.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" Brawn questioned, completely confused as he displayed his cards to Vortex.

Vortex laughed hysterically, "See that Queen? That means that you're supposed to get on the table and strip off your armor for all to see."

"But I thought that's how you play for Strip Poker."

"This isn't poker." Onslaught growled, "And move. It's your turn."

"Since when did we play just poker?" Swindle questioned with a charming smile adorned on his faceplate. "We always throw something in to it like betting, dares, confessions, stripping and my personal favorite: high-grade."

Brawn hurriedly glanced around at his teammates and Gambler as they watched him with varying degrees of impatience. Setting his cards face down, he fumbled at his shoulder armor.

"Whoa there's no need for that. Bodycount said to keep it on the down low and we can't exactly do that with the other Decepticons getting all riled up with the sight of your bare aft." Gambler intervened, much to the displeasure of Vortex. "Just ask someone here if they have a card that matches up with one of yours."

Brawn glared at Vortex who just laughed it off before picking back up his cards. "Blastoff, do you have a three?"

"Go Fish." Blastoff replied with half lidded optics.

"Oh, ok. Now what?" Brawn looked hopefully towards Gambler.

"Now you pick up a card from the pile and wait for your turn. If you have a card that someone else asks you for, hand it over."

Onslaught scowled, "Brawn, hand over your queen or I'll rip your helm off."

Brawn handed it over without complaint.

"So tell me," Swindle began, "When was the last time Bodycount had a good, hard frag?"

All optics were suddenly on Gambler, "You see, trine interfacing is fun and all, but it's even better when two trines go at it. Silverstreak is an energetic kind of bot, even in the berth though you'd have to get through Bodycount to even lay a hand on him. Bodycount on the other hand…." Gambler dramatically paused, making those around him, even the other inhabitants in the Rec Room look to him in wonder, "Once you get him started, he doesn't stop very easily. He'll go at it multiple times in a row if you let him get away with it. It's like he gets all of his desire to frag for the vorn all out in one go. It's an impressive sight, even more so when you're in the berth with him."

Blastoff gave him an unimpressed look but refused to say anything.

"That's complete slag!" Swindle good naturedly claimed.

"I know it is, but I just wanted to see if any of you thick helmed 'cons would realize it." The others in the Rec Room grumbled in disappointment before turning back to their own business. "The last berthmate he had was Shockwave. It was an odd sight and I wouldn't have seen it coming even if Primus himself had told me. They're like minded and all that slag, something about having to deal with Silverstreak and I while Shockwave has to deal with that younger brother of his. I remember Shockwave complaining about how every time he turned his back, Soundwave had another cassette."

"How'd he manage that?" Brawn questioned.

Onslaught smacked Brawn, "Did you forget about the bolts and screws again?"

"…Maybe…"

Blastoff rubbed his servo over his faceplate, "I'm not explaining it; I did it last time."

"And that's probably why he forgot." Gambler teased, "I understand Soundwave is very social, but I didn't think he'd be that social. I mean, seriously, even Jazz doesn't have any creations running about."

"I once heard that he finds them and is too soft sparked to get rid of them so Soundwave just acts as if they're his." Swindle raised an optic, "I know quite a few individuals who would pay good money to see vids of Soundwave giving birth to those brats."

Gambler glanced to the door and groaned in frustration by the sight of the individual that he thought he free from for the night. "How'd Bodycount give you the slip?"

Silverstreak looked around and finding no empty chairs, he got behind Onslaught who instantly tensed up the moment that the grey and red praxian touched him. "Bodycount decided to go to sleep. That and apparently we have combat practice again tomorrow morning. He said something about no high-grade, so if you already had some, you should give me some too that way you won't be the only one in trouble."

"Not tonight." Gambler responded, purple armor flashing in the light as he pulled another card from the pile. "Have you seen any bots get a reaction from Bodycount as of late? He really needs a berthmate, even if only for the night and last I heard, the seekers pissed him off."

"Nope." Silverstreak sung right before climbing up on Onslaught and wrapping himself around the larger mech's shoulders like a scarf. "So… Onslaught…"

Onslaught tensed even more under those wandering fingers as Silverstreak explored his frame, doorwings fluttering in amusement.

"Are these new upgrades?" He slid his fingers over the thick slates of armor that made up Onslaught's upper torso. "They're nice."

"Keep your servos to yourself." Onslaught grumbled, trying to ignore the praxian as he continued to play the game. "And get off of me."

"You've gotten stronger. Been working out?" Silverstreak teased. He was really enjoying getting under the plating of those who weren't in his trine and the black and brown uptight praxian wasn't anywhere near to tell him to stop. "When was the last time you had a good 'face? I bet it's been longer than Bodycount."

Onslaught clenched his servos, wanting nothing but to rip the praxian from him and beat him senseless, but if he did that, then he'd have to deal with Silverstreak's trinemates. Bodycount wasn't someone that he or anyone sane would want to mess with when angry. So he did what was the next best thing. Onslaught extracted Silverstreak from his frame, got up and dumped the surprised praxian onto Vortex before leaving the room.

"What the-?"

Vortex grinned a grin that he usually reserved for the prisoners. "I know of a good storage closet with plenty of room for the two of us."

Silverstreak scrambled to his pedes. "I'll pass."

"Don't praxians have a thing for the air frames?" Vortex purred, petting one of Silverstreak's doorwings and dipping his fingertips into the sensitive seems on the younger mech's back. "I know all the best places to touch."

Silverstreak spun around and punched Vortex in the faceplate. "Don't touch me."

The others got up while Gambler packed up his scattered cards. Gambler supposed it could have gone worse though on the bright side, at least he could claim that he wasn't involved this time.

"Let me know if you ever change your mind." Vortex gleefully stated with energon dripping down his faceplate from where he had just gotten hit.

"What happened?" Bodycount questioned the moment the door to their shared quarters slid open. He didn't even bother to look due to having dealt with the same thing time and time again.

Gambler smirked, "I didn't do anything."

Silverstreak entered right after Gambler and with an irritated twitch of his doorwings stated in a matter of fact tone, "Vortex tried getting me to interface with him so I punched him."

"Congratulation on not using your rifle to settle your differences this time." With that, Bodycount went back to sleep.

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Silverstreak protested.

Gambler snickered, "Do you even remember half the reasons why you shoot bots? We both ended up in the brig last time though admittedly I started it."

Silverstreak frowned, "It wasn't my fault. As a Decepticon, it's either shoot or be shot. I'm just doing what I need to do."

"And that's why Bodycount won't let anyone touch his weapons anymore." Gambler settled down on his berth, "Don't get me wrong, it was awesome watching you bludgeon that Wrecker with Bodycount's last riffle when you ran out of bullets, but breaking it and having it filled with bits of processor when you gave it back wasn't what he had in mind. You just had to be the first to ever borrow a weapon from him and now he won't even let me touch them."

"It was pretty cool wasn't it?" Silverstreak got into a comfortable position on his back as he looked up at the darkened ceiling. "I took out two Autobots with it that way and the only reason why it broke was because I hit Ironhide."

"Did he see you?"

"Of course not. I got him from behind and so he didn't see me. I was so surprised when it broke that I grabbed the pieces and hid."

"Is that why you don't like him very much?"

"Why wouldn't I like that walking pair of cannons? He was the closest to finding our hiding spot and that was only because Jazz mentioned seeing gunfire from somewhere in the vicinity."

"You know Bodycount, I never knew how you could clean your armor and perform maintenance so meticulously and still manage to finish first." Gambler said as he scrubbed away at his detached chestplate. "It's like no matter how fast I work, you always manage to get done before me."

"I have more experience." Bodycount stated, "Silverstreak, you need to stop playing with the soap."

"I know, I know." Silverstreak mumbled as got back to work. His armor was scattered about him in a jumbled mess. It wasn't his fault the bubbles were so distracting.

Scooting over, Bodycount grabbed the nearest piece of armor and began scrubbing. Silverstreak, already used to such occurrence seeing how he was the slowest at maintenance, didn't even complain and claim that he was a full grown mech who knows how to take care of himself.

Securely latching the last plate of armor into place, Gambler performed his usual stretches and made sure everything was in its proper place before helping Silverstreak as well. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do with the exception of possibly snooping around and gathering blackmail.

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

Three sets of doorwings perked up at the sound of the alarm.

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

"I bet a cube of high-grade that it's going off because Skywarp scared whoever was on duty." Gambler said with a smirk.

"Yeah, well…" Silverstreak paused, trying to come up with a good explanation, "I bet two cubes of high-grade that Swindle forgot to pay the energy suppliers again so it's going off as a pre-warning."

"You don't even have high-grade!" Gambler protested.

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

Bodycount shot the two of them a glare before getting up and grabbing his acid pellet riffle. "This could be something serious. Silverstreak, get your armor back on."

"But I'm not finished yet!" Silverstreak squeaked.

"We'll finish it later. Gambler, help Silverstreak." Bodycount opened the door and left in the direction of the command center.

The two did as they were told until the alarm cut short with a single message.

: We're under attack. Autobots have the base surrounded. :

"Frag." Gambler cursed. "We're both wrong."

The base shook as a nearby explosion went off followed by the yells of Autobots and Decepticons alike.

Gambler and Silverstreak poked their helms out the door. Catching sight of a familiar pair of fully charged cannons, Silverstreak darted out of the room and in the opposite direction.

"Silverstreak, get your aft over here! You don't have all of your armor on yet!" Torn between two options, Gambler claimed the last few slates of Silverstreak's armor and the abandoned riffle before running after his trinemate.

Silverstreak weaved his way through the Decepticons, many of which were running in the opposite direction, with great ease. Granted some stopped to stare and possibly take image captures, but Silverstreak didn't pay them much attention.

He didn't care where he was going as so long as it was as far away from Ironhide as possible. Being as preoccupied as he was, Silverstreak didn't notice that he managed to escape the base and run straight into an Autobot camp.

Wide eyed, Silverstreak ran into a temporary structure and hid behind a tall stack of supplies. He could feel his spark racing in terror as he tried to analyze the situation that he put himself in.

: Silverstreak, where are you? :

Silverstreak jumped ever so slightly at the sudden comm before answering. : Hey, Gambler. More Autobots are positioned at the eastern side of the base. It looks like they're getting ready to say hello. :

: I'll tell Bodycount. : There was a slight pause. : How do you know that? :

: I'm looking straight at them. Don't worry, I'm hidden. :

: Get back to the base or Bodycount will throw a fit. I have your riffle and the rest of your armor. :

: I'll do my best. : Silverstreak replied before cutting the comm line.

Gently, he stepped out of his hiding spot only to dart behind another crate as his doorwings picked up the movement of another bot.

"Relax, Aid. Ya'll do fine. If anythin' Ratch's on da other side of da base." A voice spoke up as what Silverstreak thought was just one bot appeared to be two.

How could one be so quiet?

"I know, it just…. How you so sure that they don't know we're positioned here?"

"Ironhide made plenty of noise on da other side, plus with all of da frontliners an' gunners, the 'cons will be too distracted ta notice."

BOOM

"Isn't that the signal?" The much softer voice questioned.

"Yup. Time fer meh ta go."

Silverstreak waited a while before making his next move. He tried backtracking only to almost run into a black and white polyhexian with a shining blue visor. Backpedaling as fast as he could, he retreated back to the area where he had been listening in on the two 'bots. He noticed a little bit too late that he somehow managed to end up on the wrong side of the crates and directly into another Autobot.

Silverstreak and the other bot fell to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs. "Oof."

"Sorry!" Silverstreak quickly apologized as he struggled to get back to his pedes.

A gentle servo placed in the center of his back pushed him up and off of the Autobot. Silverstreak spun around and without a second thought, offered his servo to help up the other.

A red and white medic with a blue visor and mask took the offered servo and was pulled back to his pedes. "Thank you. I didn't see you coming. Is something the matter?"

Silverstreak stared at the medic in fascination. Since when were medbots so kind and gentle? He knew for certain Hook wasn't the most tender of medbots and assumed the others were the same. However he quickly realized this was an apprentice.

"I haven't seen you around before." The medbot continued, "This is my first time on the battlefield. I'm First Aid."

"I usually keep my distance." Silverstreak muttered, staring intently at the visor.

"I haven't seen any Praxians up close before. Do you mind if I touch your doorwings?" First Aid carefully asked, trying his best not to offend the other.

"…Sure?" Silverstreak moved to the side so that the other could have better access. He wasn't used to individuals being so polite and when it came down to it, it was hard to deny this mech.

"I hope I'm not being rude, but…" First Aid paused, "Being on the battlefield and all… shouldn't you be wearing more armor?"

"Just because I should doesn't mean I always do." Silverstreak purred contently as First Aid rubbed the doorwing. "A little to your left. Ah yes, right there. Yes, that's perfect."

He was suddenly aware of another presence. Looking over, he confirmed his suspicions. Reluctantly, he pulled away from that wonderful servo.

"It's been great getting to know you, but I have to go." With a little wave, Silverstreak slipped off in the direction of his trinemate who wasn't very pleased by what he had seen.

"What were you doing?!" Gambler hissed, reconnecting the remainder of Silverstreak's armor before shoving his riffle into his servos. "The base is under attack and you let an Autobot medic play with your doorwing?"

"It wasn't exactly play. It was more like… petting." Silverstreak gave Gambler a wide grin, "Besides, medics really are good with their servos and this was an apprentice. It's not like he was going to kill me."

"You're lucky I'm not going to tell Bodycount about this." Gambler flicked his doorwings in slight annoyance. "You're lucky I care about you."

With a seemingly innocent look, Silverstreak singed, "I love you too."

Gambler huffed, trying to hide back the fond look in the process, "We have Autobots to turn back. Don't run off again. You almost gave me a spark attack."

: Constructicons, attack the Autobots in the eastern side of the base. Combaticons, deal with the Autobots in the western side of the base. Seekers, get into formation and circle the base's perimeter. Reduce the number as much as you can, but focus on the outside forces. Silverstreak, Gambler, meet me at the command center. : Bodycount poured over the incoming information and continued to move troops around in the most efficient manner as he could in the unexpected attack. A good portion of the Decepticons were off base with Megatron.

Either the Autobots were good at guessing or had spies within the Decepticon ranks because as far as Bodycount could see, this was one if not the best time to attack.

"Very skilled hacker now knows of our presence." Soundwave spoke up as he continued to fend the mystery bot off. "Location: Unknown."

"How do you know this?"

"Overheard transmission and feels me fighting him back in the security system."

"Frag." Bodycount quietly muttered. He and his team were unknown and as far as the Autobots knew, didn't exist. They functioned to some extent like Shockwave in that they worked in the shadows, far from the visible surface of movement.

Luckily, the hacker currently only knew his voice and not his appearance though for how long depended on how good the hacker was and if this bot could get pass Soundwave.

Knock, knock.

"Good, they're here." Bodycount was about to open the door when Soundwave stopped him.

"Autobot posers. Your trine are in the next hallway."

Bodycount pulled himself from the controls for the door, thankful that Soundwave caught the mistake before he accidently let Autobots in the command center.

Knock, knock.

Creak

Bodycount pulled his riffle from his subspace and aimed it overhead. His doorwings were held in a ridged posture as he strained them to pick up any other sounds.

"Someone's in the air ducts." Bodycount whispered so that only Soundwave could hear him.

"Your trine is here. Let them in." Soundwave commanded, acting as if he hadn't heard what Bodycount had just said.

Hesitantly, Bodycount lowered his riffle from the ceiling and pressed the button to open the door. Even though he was ready to attack and appeared to be completely focused on the door, he kept his doorwings trained on the air duct.

"I'm just saying, Autobots are getting really crafty." Gambler said as he leaned down to pry one of his throwing dagger from the frame of an Autobot. He spun it once before tucking it away.

Silverstreak grinned, "Oh hey B-"

"Get in." Bodycount commanded, purposely cutting Silverstreak off so their visitor couldn't catch his name.

The two did as they were told and the door was once again securely locked into place.

Resorting to using his doorwings to communicate with his trinemates, Bodycount began, :: Someone's in the air duct above us. Soundwave's dealing with a skilled hacker so it may be this bot. ::

:: How about I just keep shooting until I hit the bot? :: Silverstreak questioned excitedly as he discretely peered up.

:: If you shoot the air duct with your acid pellet riffle enough times, the metal will be weakened and the bot will fall in here. Then we can shoot. :: Gambler improvised.

SIlverstreak and Bodycount nodded in agreement.

With quick, precise movements, Bodycount turned, aimed and repeatedly fired in the area where he had heard the creak originate from. The metal groaned as its ability to hold the added weight of the visitor lowered.

Realizing too late that he was going to soon be visiting those he had been above, the bot cursed and braced himself the best he could for the fall.

"Hacker repelled." Soundwave stated with a tinge of pride in his voice.

A sleek black and white polyhexian scrambled to his pedes. Knowing the danger he was now in, the 'bot put on a charming smile while he analyzed the other inhabitants of the room. "Dis is such a lovely day."

Silverstreak had his riffle aimed right at the hacker's sparkchamber.

Bodycount frowned, "This is Jazz, the head of the Autobot's Special Operations. He's currently worth more to us alive."

"Ya got a nice set of doorwin's. It'd be a shame if somethin' happened ta them." Jazz watched the movements of the doorwings in fascination. "Ah heard dat they're awfully sensitive."

"Touch them and I'll break your visor." Bodycount hissed.

"Like ta play rough? Ya sure are an interestin' mech. Ah neva' caught yer designation."

"Can I shoot? I promise I'll make it quick, unless you want him to suffer a bit first…" Silverstreak trailed off.

:: He's actually getting Bodycount riled up. If someone can get a reaction from him, then it's a good thing, regardless of the emotion. ::

Silverstreak perked up at Gambler's comment, lowering his riffle in the process.

"What'd they say?" Jazz asked confused, "Ah know they said somethin'."

Bodycount made sure Soundwave was keeping a sharp optic on the saboteur before looking back at his trinemates. :: What is it? ::

:: Nothing. :: Both quickly replied with mischievous looks on their faceplates.

Bodycount turned back to Jazz only to find the hacker looking around the room with mild curiosity. "Ya got a fine place here."

Scrapper spoke on the Decepticon main comm line. : Autobots are retreating. :

Onslaught stated with mild disappointment. : Same in the western section. :

More individuals confirmed this.

With a heavy sigh, Bodycount spoke, "We're bringing Jazz to the brig. Will you interrogate him or do you want Vortex to?"

"Ah got a better idea." Jazz replied, "How 'bout ya save yerself da trouble and let meh go?"

"No." Bodycount snapped.

"I will." Soundwave went back to work, "Tell Scrapper to fix the ceiling."

"Ooh, can I?" Silverstreak was practically bouncing on his pedes in excitement.

"Very well, but after we get Jazz locked up."

Gambler opened the door and made sure that it would shut and lock behind them.

Author's Note: So that's all I have on it so far. It's amazing what boredom can do to a person, especially when they start being creative. So what do you think so far?