Even in the modern world, there still existed places so far isolated, the only intrusion of mankind is in the invisible satellites overhead, or the low thump of a helicopter's blades. Occasionally, when the weather holds clear, a hiker or other adventurer explores the secret places, seeking out one last breath of solitude before the world rushes back into focus, and the frantic pace of life catches them back into its gasping folds again.

The wilds surrounding Mt. Hood, Oregon, was just one of such places. Thousands of acres of timberland warred with unspoiled old growth pines, oblivious to the constant battles for harvesting rights of corporations down in far distant Salem. A few scattered towns huddled against Highway 26, as if the press of logging trucks and ski tourists could hold back the encroaching wilderness around them. Over it all hung the great mountain, the sleeping volcano. Snow-capped year-round, Mt. Hood was the single most photographed mountain in the entire state, gracing countless postcards, stamps, and tacky tourist memorabilia even locals fell prey to. Normally, the great mountain's domain was quiet, a state of serene normality, where nothing out of the ordinary occurred save for a rogue Bigfoot sighting.

However, on this day, just south of Government Camp, a different sort of cryptid was stomping its way through the four feet of accumulated snowfall. Or, rather, a pair of strange creatures, the likes of which any Bigfoot hunter would have given his right arm to witness.

"I was not built for this damn weather."

"Neither of us were, unless your maker was really a snowplow and you've been lying to me this whole time."

"That's so incredibly amusing I've forgotten to laugh at you."

Any other creature would have had difficulty moving through the snow, but the creature in the lead seemed to have little trouble. He was bulkier, shorter, and plowed his way through with an oddly cheerful demeanor. Behind him, however, the other slid cautiously along, moving always in the tracks of the first. His expression was that of a man looking at an article of extreme dissatisfaction—a dinner bill, or his wife's latest suggestion for improving their marriage, perhaps. They continued to bicker, moving through the trees with little difficulty, save for when a particularly resilient branch snapped back to contact the sullen creature's face with a metallic thwack and an undignified curse.

In one such instance, he snarled out something in a strange language, a pair of blades sliding out of concealment on his forearms. He barely moved, and the tree was suddenly minus a needle-covered limb. The other stopped, turning to face his companion with a look of horror and exasperation.

"Sideswipe!"

Glancing up from the smote limb, Sideswipe merely blinked. The blades slipped back into their sheaths, painting him in the picture of innocence. "What?"

Muttering his own scathing curse, Jolt stomped back to collect the fallen tree branch, regarding it sadly in his long-fingered hands. "What was that for?" he demanded, stopping his inspection long enough to glower at his friend. "What'd the poor tree do to you anyway?"

"It hit me first," the silver Autobot responded, folding his arms.

"The tree hit you first."

"Yes."

Jolt rolled his optics, a low hiss of air escaping his intakes. He shifted the branch in his hands, before gently placing it to the side of their path, against the trunk it had come from. No sense in hurting the poor fir anymore than they already had. Ignoring the shifting sounds behind him, he paused a moment, crouched over the branch, scanning every inch of it into his databanks. There was just so much to see here. It was beautiful. If they hadn't been on a schedule, he'd have stopped for hours, examining the vast forests for every scrap of flora.

But, unfortunately for the young, closet botanist, they had a rendezvous to make—as the thick silver fingers toying with his spinal extensions reminded him. He let Sideswipe pull him to his feet, and the Corvette allowed them both a brief moment of close contact, before pulling away to keep moving. Jolt took the lead again, slogging through the drifts neither of their vehicle modes could handle, clearing a path for his slimmer, lighter companion. Overhead, the skies were growing darker, the threat of snow getting more and more imminent as time went on. Out here, even for their powerful systems, internet and communications were limited—mostly due to the interference of the terrain and weather patterns, but either way, this left them with no way to contact the others, until they reached the rendezvous point.

This had all been Ironhide's idea. The old veteran had suggested to Prime that their forces needed further training to acclimate to Earth's varying terrains. Especially the young ones, as the original members of Prime's team all had their few years to adjust. The battle in Egypt may have ended in victory, command had reasoned, but it was in no way the deciding factor in the war. And as more Decepticon scouts began to arrive, seeking something the higher-ups hadn't quite figured out just yet, it seemed the entirety of NEST forces were due for a brush-up.

Desert terrain was the one area they all felt comfortable with, and was thus briefly glossed over, citing multiple complaints of sand in sensitive gears. Then came forest—navigating around trees, using the vegetation to your advantage—and shorelines, open plains, mountainsides, everything the weapons master could think of, he drilled into their processors in ways that put human drill sergeants to shame. And it looked, given the vast variety of choices available, as if this training would never end. Especially when it was announced they were moving on to more than mere combat—as Ironhide had so gleefully stated—no, next they would begin instruction on survival.

Which was what brought Jolt and Sideswipe to this silent, solitary region of the Pacific Northwest—a culmination of all they'd learned so far, jammed into one massive area of land. The towering trees here would have put even Megatron's vast bulk to shame, so there was little sense in utilizing them as anything but cover. Rivers and lakes dotted the mountains like icy gems, sometimes buried under snowdrifts, and simply waiting until the unwary stepped across their boarders. Some were deep enough to sink Cybertronian frames. Sudden cliffs, combined with the atrocious weather conditions made the situation treacherous for anyone unfamiliar with the area. A perfect chance to test the skills of the young warriors.

They had been dropped via helicopter, as they were a common enough sight in the area, enough to where even the massive Chinooks went unnoticed, into a randomly selected area of forest, and given two days' time to make it to given coordinates. Everyone went in pairs, and no one was exempt. Ironhide stayed—predictably—with Ratchet, The Twins were—mercifully—inseparable, Bumblebee fell in with Prime, and Jolt slipped in beside Sideswipe. The humans were monitoring, for now. Once their Autobot allies were acclimated, they'd begin working on joint-survival situations. But now, it was all on the Autobots.

The day had been relatively uneventful. They'd worked out their marching order quickly enough, and aside from a minor mishap involving a slope and more ice than was healthy for wheeled feet, progress had been slow, but steady. It was dull, in Sideswipe's opinion, this slow march through the forest.

And Jolt's sudden, unbridled joy in the landscape wasn't helping his patience. The stocky blue Autobot stopped more times than his companion cared to count, just to examine some odd bit of vegetation. Occasionally, he'd pick up a piece, delightedly announcing its name, and rattling off whatever factoid he'd found on the vast database of the internet. Sideswipe put up with this, wordlessly, only rolling his optics when Jolt had darted away to dredge up yet another chunk of moss from the frozen ground.

Although, annoyed though he was, he couldn't quite deny that the scrambling and flailing around in the white powder was one of the more endearing sights he'd borne witness to in his life. It was enough to keep his spirits up as they marched.

At least, until it began to snow.

It wasn't terrible at first. Only light flakes fell, drifting down out of a thickly clouded sky, swirling on a gentle wind. Scans still worked, and so long as they continued plodding steadily southward, they would make their destination well within the allotted time. Neither of them paid much attention, and Jolt even continued to duck off their path to examine rare spots of winter growth. But as they kept going, the white powder thickened, the wind kicked up, and visibility, even for their advanced systems, dropped to nearly zero. With the sudden, freak storm came a drastic drop in temperature, and before long, icicles hung off of shoulder plating, formed in wheel wells and along door "wings" and spines.

Sideswipe's wheeled feet locked, as they progressed through rapidly deepening drifts. The pair was forced to pause until he could get the mechanisms revving fast enough to break free of the icy crust. Jolt stood by, fidgeting slightly, even as he offered up a supporting arm. Despite the balance systems keeping him easily on one foot, wind or no wind, Sideswipe leaned his back gratefully against the stockier Autobot, and did not move until the process was complete. Only then did they forge on, through the thickly crowded trees and deepening darkness.

Unsurprisingly, it was Jolt who first found the road. He stumbled forward, surprised at the sudden lack of snow in their path and had to be steadied from behind.

"This... wasn't on any of our maps," Sideswipe murmured, peering over his companion's shoulder. "At least, none of mine." He shot the other a speculative glance.

Jolt merely shrugged, moving out onto the road with perhaps more confidence than either of them should have felt, at that point. "Well, it has to go somewhere, right?" he said. Already, pieces of his armor were shifting, his body folding down into the familiar shape of the Volt. When Sideswipe didn't respond, save to fold his arms, he replied, "Would you rather slog around until we drop from exhaustion or drive? I think even you can move around out here."

"Oh yes," Sideswipe retorted. But he began transforming all the same, twisting his slender body back into the sleek Corvette. "Let's drive off into the snowstorm. This is clearly one of your better ideas."

The only response he received was a windshield full of snow as Jolt's tires purposefully spun before he took off. Sideswipe sputtered indignantly before he gave chase. He tried to ignore the skidding of his rear tires as he drove. They were, after all, moving faster now—the faster they went, the sooner they'd reach the others, and be out of this wretched weather. He concentrated on following Jolt's signal, on watching his tail-lights glow dimly in the gloom. How the other Autobot knew where he was going, Sideswipe had no idea. His positioning system was thrown out of alignment by the storm, and while he knew they were headed south, the right direction, any more than that was proving difficult to determine.

Wind whistled around his frame, rattling his undercarriage, and sending gusts of white powder blowing between the two of them. More than once, he found himself wondering if it were possible for the weather to actually flip him over. He wasn't as heavily built as the other Autobots. The thought made him hug the snow-covered road all the more, until his very axles dragged furrows through it. Jolt didn't seem to notice. In fact, he sped up through the straightaway, his headlights casting long shadows through the trees. As before, Sideswipe ducked behind him, following along in his wake. The view never changed, only towering trees, clumps of unidentifiable brush, and the odd, diamond-shaped road sign neither of them could see well enough to read.

::Doing all right?:: he asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

::I could go for a little less wind,:: Jolt answered simply. ::If it's this bad in here, it's going to be worse when we get out of the woods.:: Even in their vehicle forms, he could have sworn he felt Jolt turn to look at him. ::You okay?::

Sideswipe chuckled dryly. ::Please.:: There was a distinct impression of him rolling his optics, despite the reassurance in his voice.::I've survived much worse than a little snow in my undercarriage.:: He paused long enough to maneuver around a large mound of snow in their path. ::You don't think this is odd, do you?:: he asked.

::Think what's odd?::

::This road... Shouldn't the highways in this area be plowed? You'd think the humans would take better care of their travel routes.::

The Volt seemed to shrug, picking up his pace as the trees began to thin. To their left, the roadside sloped drastically upwards, becoming a sheer rock face. Boulders and thick undergrowth prevented a clear view of the landscape to their right. They were coming out of the forest, all right, but to where, neither of them could tell. They could be miles away from their destination, or right on top of it. Another road sign flashed by far too quickly to read, its yellow surface caked with white ice. Sideswipe backed off slightly, putting space between his front bumper and the cloud of snow Jolt's tires kicked up. ::This storm kinda came out of nowhere,:: Jolt said. ::Maybe it was. Or maybe it's some old logging road they never use anymore.::

::I don't see why they would make a road and not use the thing,:: Sideswipe grumbled. ::It seems like a great lot of wasted effort for a lazy species...::

That caused a short laugh from the speeding Volt. ::I'm sure they have their reasons—::

His logic was cut short as, without apparent warning, the road curved sharply to the left, following the cliff face. Seeing the sheer drop in front of him at the last moment, the blue Autobot swerved hard, his rear wheels spinning wildly out of control as his rear bumper smashed through the rusted guard rail. He barely had time to transform before he slipped, comm system blaring a distress call, and disappeared over the edge.