This is the third installment of a series. Please read the other two stories first or this one will make zero sense. You can find them on my profile.

And for you loyal returning readers, yes, end of June, like I promised! (though I may have been cutting it a little close) Please enjoy this wild new edition that sends Stealthblade through tail spins!

"Keep your head low and stick to the walls. I'll provide cover fire." Stealthblade whispered to his younger brother.

Stormstrike simply nodded in affirmation and did as instructed, moving almost stealthily for a mech of his size. Stealthblade's attention focused onto the nearest Decepticon, which could easily spot Stormstrike if he'd only turn around. The elite stealth soldier fired a single shot from his sniper rifle, and the mech was down.

While Stormstrike ran along the bottom of the crevice where the cons had all built up, Stealthblade skimmed along the top, firing only when necessary and never blowing his cover. Then they both reached the goal, a small camp of neutrals, who'd been taken hostage.

You still up to this? Stormstrike asked playfully.

No problem here. Stealthblade retorted.

Then let's have some fun. The gray and blue elite ran around the perimeter, using the shadows whenever he could.

Decepticons looked around carefully, being more alert than usual. They knew they were out there, and were frightened. Stealthblade hissed lowly to himself as he counted their numbers. He and Stormstrike had to get through eight Decepticons before they could reach the neutrals and then probably four or five more that would surely come in as backup once the ruckus had begun.

Keep and optic out for cons coming back in. Stealthblade warned his brother.

Easy enough. Stormstrike let his sensor orb glow just enough to catch Stealthblade's attention. He was simply reminding him of his special ability.

And don't get cocky. Stealthblade hissed again.

They moved in on the cons together, Stealthblade more like liquid velvet while Stormstrike was more shuffled and tedious. They both made it to predestinated cover spots and then nodded to one another, using their bond to signal when the right moment to attack was.

Stormstrike reared up first, catching the con's attention. He fired precisely, not one shot falling astray. Stealthblade then shot down each soldier that dared lunge to the neutrals, like they'd been hoping to use them as a shield. All eight cons where taken down with ease, allowing Stealthblade and Stormstrike to move in and free the neutrals.

Keeping them together they escorted them out towards the nearest Autobot base, where they'd be safe. Stealthblade watched the wall of rock he'd been running along earlier and picked off any cons that dared peek their heads over. Stormstrike even claimed a few Stealthblade failed to notice.

They walked up to the base, and Stormstrike's optics were gleaming victoriously. Stealthblade blew out a sigh and shook his head. Then the base in front of them disappeared into thin air, and their neutrals fizzled out of sight. Now instead of an Autobot base the two soldiers stood in front of a door, and they walked out.

"You two have shown drastic improvement." Doubleedge commented as they walked over to him.

"You better believe it. Stealthblade keeps drilling me all night on techniques and crap so I don't mess up again." Stormstrike griped.

"Because you didn't take our first few simulations seriously." Stealthblade countered and whacked him atop the head.

Doubleedge nearly smiled; their display of brotherly affection amusing.

"Okay you two, go get some rest. Montana wouldn't like it if you two were exhausted for her birthday tomorrow." Doubleedge reminded as he finished jotting down some information on a datapad, which Stealthblade had no doubt pertained to them.

"Oh yeah!" Stormstrike yipped in excitement, earning him another whack from his older brother.

"You forgot!" Stealthblade snarled.

"Did not; I was simply distracted by other thoughts." Stormstrike actually defended himself, which was highly unusual.

Stealthblade immediately pressed his clawed hand against Stormstrike's armored forehead, making the elite stiffen in surprise.

What are you doing? He dared to ask.

"I'm seeing if you're sick. You just defended yourself." Stealthblade pulled back.

"I am not sick." The Autobot snapped.

Well the last time you defended yourself you were infected with my virus. Stealthblade countered quite seriously.

"Ah…" The younger sibling rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.

"I think we should get some rest then…might do us some good after all."

Stealthblade would have rolled his optics if he had any. The pair bid Doubleedge farewell and began the journey to their quarters, which had become even more cluttered with stuff in the past six months since the incident with Vividhaze.

Not too much had happened in the time between, mostly minor skirmishes and a close call or two. Breakshift had nearly lost a leg the other day, but due to the combined skill of Ratchet and Pulse, it had been saved.

Optimus Prime and his team had chosen to remain on Earth longer due to the increased threat level the five con brothers created. Prowl hadn't been happy with the arrangement, but had finally given in by claiming he saw the logic behind it. Stormstrike had mentioned he thought Prowl just used his logic to hide how he felt, that was assuming he was capable of emotions other than annoyance and disdain.

As they passed the lounge Node sprang out and joined them.

"How was training?" The new Autobot asked.

He and Outspace had passed Optimus Prime's judgment and had been made full Autobots just the month before. Node was still a hard mech to deal with if he wasn't around Stealthblade or Stormstrike, but he had mellowed a little bit. More often then not Node could be found reading up on both Earth and Cybertronian history, and in another life Stealthblade saw him as being a historian of some sort. Perhaps even an archeologist, if transformers had those jobs.

Outspace had improved behavior wise even more than Node, following orders from bots other than Stealthblade and even volunteering to help out when needed. He had grown a strong friendship with Loosevalve, but due to this the rate of experiments gone wrong had climbed infinitely, and not one week went by where something did not catch fire or explode. Outspace's frustrated kicking was usually what triggered an explosion.

"We both passed again. Stormstrike remembered to hide this time to." Stealthblade answered calmly.

"Hey, they were supposed to see me anyways that time. I was the…"

"Don't want to hear it." The stealth soldier interrupted.

Frag you.

Watch the language. Stealthblade chuckled at Stormstrike's annoyed growl.

Node knew they were thinking to one another privately, so simply threw a wave and walked away, probably to go back to his post. He had been taken under Torrent's 'wing' in a manner of speaking and was training well under him. His aim had made major improvements and his sparring against Doubleedge was going well also. If he got too frustrated though he tended to break things, which included his own arm on one occasion, but his temper was starting to quell thanks to Stormstrike's combined efforts with Bumblebee to tame the gladiator.

Stealthblade was jarred from his thoughts as they reached the door to their room. Stormstrike entered first, pausing when he noticed his brother was still frozen outside the door.

"Coming?" Stormstrike inquired.

"Huh; oh yeah."

His gaze scattered around the room, absorbing the car and jet posters on the walls and ceiling, as well as the desk practically oozing with datapads and knick knacks; some harmless, others strong enough to cut through a transformer in a matter of seconds. Why did they have such deadly weapons lying out again?

Because Ratchet hasn't given us a subspace yet. We get it after Montana's party tomorrow, don't forget. Stormstrike giggled at the fact he was now the one reminding his brother of the things that were happening.

"I don't see why its taken him so long to make us one." Stealthblade sighed and sat down.

"He's a busy guy, and Pulse couldn't do anything because Ratchet's the one equipped for subspace installments." Stormstrike explained.

"I know, I know." The darker mech grumbled.

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Cause I'm tired." Stealthblade snapped and stretched out on his berth.

Oh don't be so cranky bro. Stormstrike rolled his optics and fell into recharge.

Stealthblade was quick to follow suit, actually excited about the following day. Montana's birthday was her golden year. She'd be turning eleven on January eleventh, and the Autobots had made a special treat for her. Now in a slightly better mood, Stealthblade got his well earned rest.