Ambassadors of Earth

by CatDracoX

Summary:

It started as an accident. Nobody knows how it happened, but it was something that changed everything real quickly. Bumblebee knew that it was an accident and his team needed help. But all of them began to wonder - was it really an accident, or was someone really after them? What secrets are gonna be revealed? What demons lie in the dark?

Chapter 1: How It All Went Wrong

It didn't exactly happen on a dark night. Not even a storm of black clouds hung low in the sky. The sun was out, being block by a wall of gentle, grey clouds, but it was bright enough for practice. Or for Russell to practice anyway.

He originally was out on the football field before, taking the time to do a few punts, getting some sort of precision on his angles. There were times where he told himself that he didn't needed to do practice kicks anymore since he gotten the formula down to the basic components, but time can change one's abilities.

Right now, he was sitting on the hood of a familiar red Lamborghini Diablo. Russell smiles. It wouldn't be Sideswipe's thing if he wasn't the one to stick out the most with his flashy, cherry-red paint.

Despite the inactivity of Decepticons, Bumblebee had Sideswipe chaperone Russell just for today. It was mostly for two reasons: Russell was more close to Sideswipe than anybody on the team, so sending him out was a decent choice at most and to keep Denny's worries from flying off the rails since his son was going to be practicing on the field alone.

Russell sighed. Things just seemed peaceful. Well - almost.

"Something wrong, shortstack?"

Russell turns his head to the source of the voice. Standing by the driver's door of the lambo was a man in his early 20s - maybe 21- with a very lean body type. He had dark red hair that swerved upwards in a curve at a slight angle while the rest looked to have been shaven short. His outfit consist of a slightly loose white t-shirt that had pink kanji on the front being draped over by a black and red jacket with golden studs on parts of the jacket: three on each forearm, three buttons on the bottom open flaps of the jacket and one on each side of the collar. His pants have the same colors as his jacket, but leaned more towards black than red. They also have golden studs around the opening of the pockets. Even his belt have those same golden studs. And since he has his legs angled slightly by hooking one behind the other, his exposed socks were red and his shoes were black.

But that wasn't all to this man. He was very handsome around the face, making almost the punk look he got going on nonexistence. The eyes were a very pretty electric blue and the black eyebrows almost complimented them. He also wore small, gold earrings, one in each ear and some kind of strange, thin golden necklace that hung loosely around his neck. He looked at the boy curiously.

Russell just stared at him and smiled. "It's nothing, Sideswipe. I'm just thinking." He looks over at Sideswipe's human avatar again and looks him in the eyes. "How's the avatar?"

Sideswipe grinned, his eyes shining with a hint of excitement. "To be honest, it is a bit weird at first, but now I like it! Heh, I look good!" He finishes by leaning the back of his body against his alt-mode, crossing his arms behind his head. Russell lets him relax as he goes back to thinking for a bit.

Right now, they'd found a little oasis of silence. From a distance, while only just being on the football field, the view was perfect and the atmosphere was excellent. At the spot, it was real easy to forget all the bustling people in Crown City that lived in or out of the city itself.

Russell lived with only his mom or dad, depending on which one he chooses to stay with. Amidst between the two of them, just trying to get through the day and life itself, Russell felt very isolated. He had his relatives, but they didn't know him well. And even if they did, they only shared a few of his personal interests. Nobody ever commented on how often Russell isolated himself from everyone at home. It almost made them act like they don't care at all, but the real reason no one has ever asked about it was because no one has bothered to noticed, except for his dad. That hurt just as bad. 

His dad was the only one who began to noticed his disappearances and got on his wife's case for it. One argument after another and the next thing that happened, divorce papers were on the kitchen table that following morning. Alone and outcast, Russell felt like he was useless. Or he had. Until the day he met Sideswipe, whom he seem to understand right away. In some ways, Sideswipe was very different from his fellow Autobot teammates. He and Russell have a certain amount of common ground, especially for their love of video games.

Russell admired many things about Sideswipe.

He was brave, although his arrogant and vain attitude can get him to the passing point of being reckless at time. He's really gentle to humans and actually seems to be insecure about himself, feeling like he doesn't contribute anything to the team. Russell never understood what Sideswipe had to be insecure about. To him, Sideswipe was the fastest and strongest bot he knew, the fiercest fighter and, certainly, the best friend. He listened when Russell talked, not just simply ignoring him like he does with the others at times, but really listens to what Russell had to say.

Not a lot of people really listen to you. Most of the time, they'll catch a word or two here and there, but they only catch the gist of what you're saying and remark back as if they have a clue on what you just said.

But Sideswipe was talkative and good at moving. A lot. But he was also good at being just content in the open space to relax. There weren't many people Russell could sit in companionable silence with, except Hank. She and Russell would lay on the grassy field together, watching the clouds go by after a nice practice of simple passes and grand kicks, and even bringing up relatable conversations with each other.

The first time he and Sideswipe gone out for a drive together, Russell had been afraid that Sideswipe would get bored having him as a passenger, feeling burden to protect something small and easy to kill. But Sideswipe didn't appear to mind. In fact, whenever he goes on his solo patrols, he genuinely asked Russell to join him at times, being baffled and surprised by the human knowledge that Russell provided for him and what could learn from Russell's generation. It was actually easier for Russell to answer knowing that Sideswipe would have questions.

Either way, Russell never protested against a drive.

Right now, Sideswipe seems to be dozing against the side of his alt-mode. It seemed that the Autobot enjoyed the warm sunlight against his frame as much as Russell did. However, it wouldn't be long before it starts getting cold.

It was just so peaceful today, so isolated. Russell felt safe, and nowhere near as useless as he thought he was or usually seemed to be. With just him and Sideswipe out here, it seemed like they had the world to themselves and only for them.

Then he spotted a vehicle coming by. It looked to be a black and white off-road police cruiser, almost looks like a armored Jeep. It didn't have the normal blue and red lightbars a normal cop cruiser would have. Bold, black letters of "Police" were embedded on the side of the vehicle, sticking out against the bright, white color. It had a bulker design than Sideswipe's, built for power rather than speed, but Russell could see that vehicle had plenty of both. It drove along the main road, kicking up small clouds of dirt and revving its engine loudly, startling Russell and waking up Sideswipe from his unbroken silence.

"W-What the frag?!"

"Easy Sideswipe. It's just a police cruiser. Looks like they're doing patrol on the outside roads of the city." Russell furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Though I don't understand why the officer revved his engine. Maybe he saw your alt-mode and maybe being a car enthusiast, I guess, he appreciated it?" Russell wasn't sure on that last part, but it was close enough for a good guess.

Sideswipe huffed as the cruiser drive by. "Wow, that's a first from human law enforcement."

Russell didn't seemed to be paying attention now. He was focused on the thing that was on top of the cruiser before it was out of view. It looked red, and it didn't look normal. It wasn't a red lightbar, too big to be a lightbar. And it sure wasn't a beacon light. Those were round and small compared to what that vehicle had - long and- wait. . .

"Sideswipe, that design of the vehicle . . . doesn't it look familiar to you?"

Sideswipe pauses. He thinks back on what the cruiser looked liked before it disappeared with the rest of the road while he rubbed his chin. The design DOES look familiar. Too familiar. Where has he seen it before? "Now that you mentioned it . . . it kinda does."

Russell furrowed his brows and looked at Sideswipe with concern. "I think we should head back to the scrapyard and report this to Bumblebee. It's probably nothing, but something about it is just off-putting. And . . . wait, didn't Strongarm take that road this morning?"

Sideswipe froze. He barely remember what Strongarm said where she was going for her patrol this morning, but he did remember that she was taking the exact same road and coming right back. Russell could be right and that it was probably nothing, just a police officer doing their own patrols. But, with how their adventures go, anything can happen.

What surprised Sideswipe a bit was that he was really concerned. It didn't mean that he wasn't concerned before or had been, but with how many times he and Strongarm have gotten into physical fights, he knew she was tougher than she looks. She could handle her own for a while, but something buzzed in the back of his processor that he needed to rethink. That police cruiser that passed, the design of the body almost looked like-

His avatar then dematerialized and he opened the passenger door quickly.

"C'mon Russ. We need to go. Now!"

Russell was shocked by Sideswipe's sudden call, but that was only the amount of hesitation he gave before he rushed into the passenger side, getting in and buckling up before the door closed.

It wasn't long for Sideswipe to rev his engine and taking off back to the scrapyard.

He had never felt more worried.

Notes:

Pic of what Sideswipe's human form looks like (the one with the red and black). Credit goes to Velnar03 on twitter for the art. Reminder: The art is NOT mine! It belongs to Velnar03.

This is my first Transformers fic I have ever written. While not many people like RID 2015, I'm one of the people that do love it, especially the rest of the aligned continuity. I had an idea for a fic and wanted to put it out there. I hope it's good enough. The first chapter might not be the best (I might change a few things, not sure). Please, comment and give feedback on anything. And thanks for reading!

Chapter 2: A Sudden Attack!

To Strongarm, taking a solo patrol down an unoccupied road was enjoyable. It was nice. She can take her time and not have to be on constant alert. While she was content with her surrounds, her processor starts to remind her as to why she wanted to leave out for her patrol.

That morning, she was reporting to Bumblebee that she was going to take her morning patrol early and Sideswipe was next to her, mocking her like he always does. She growled back remarks and he retort back with the same intensity. It was always their thing, their unchanged, proven formula.

She will never admit it, but she and Sideswipe have gotten close. She couldn't deny it to herself anymore and no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't believe it. She was an officer of the law and he was a punk breaking the law, but with a twisted turn of events, they became battle partners.

The worst part was when she started seeing Sideswipe in a completely different light. Granted, he's gotten better with his attitude towards her - mostly. She hated it - not him, but at her own feelings. They seem to get in the way all the time. It's not a bad thing, it just felt so confusing and it messed her up bad. Really bad!

What's. . . happening to me?

Strongarm couldn't even imagine having feelings of . . . love? The concept of the term was still foreign to her, same goes for the action of 'kissing.' Denny managed to explain the 'smashing mouths together' - as she worded it- in better human wording. She was confused on the human activity, not truly understanding why humans engage in such a displayable gesture. And dare she say, the thought intrigued her. What makes it so special for the humans to keep continuing it? She hopes to fully understand it one day.

Then, in Strongarm's sideview mirror, she could see an off-road police cruiser speeding up from the opposite lane - no lightbars, sirens blaring - coming straight up to her. It was a bit bulker than her frame type.

It looked like a strong machine, as such for the protection of human officers. Strongarm kept her attention to the road while making sure she gave the vehicle enough room to pass her. But then she remembered that its sirens were wailing.

Maybe there was an accident... She thought. But then there was a sudden awareness. . . was there really an accident that happened on this road? Or was it something else? Did she do something wrong? She was going the correct speed limit, had license plates on her front and back, mirrors aren't cracked, headlights work. What was the issue?

The cruiser started to slow down and drove alongside Strongarm, almost in sync. She was glad nobody else was on the opposite lane or things could go quite bad otherwise. The tinted windows made it really hard for her to see the driver inside, if they were trying to signal her. Thankfully, her windows were tinted as well. The last thing she wanted was the officer inside to be dead with instant shock that nobody was behind the wheel. But, with her training to obey and respect authority figures, she started to slow down a bit.

It happened so fast. One moment it was following along her side, then its side view mirror on the passenger's side twitched and the cruiser angled itself against her, pushing her towards the trees.

What?! She activates her PA system. "What are you doing?!"

The human inside the cruiser either didn't want to reply or flat out ignores her as they continue to push her towards the trees, hoping she crash into one. She tries to push right back, but the vehicle was heavily armored, even heavier, harder for her to even nudge it off of her.

Enough!

Strongarm's engine roared to life, her headlights flashed and she lurched backwards, her sudden charge fueled by either fury or purest fear. Her unexpected lurch made her tires skid against the blacktop road, her mind muddled from her surprised attack. The cruiser skid to a halt, sliding and turning to its side.

There was no hesitation on Strongarm's part. Despite breaking a lot of regulations for what she was about to do, she shot forwards quickly and slammed her front bumper into the side of the cruiser. She didn't slow down on hitting it. Even as her tires dug against the blacktop, causing it to screech and pick up smoke, she managed to gain speed.

The snarl of her living engine was deafening. She couldn't believe this was happening, what was she even doing?! It's like she was acting on instinct, a flight or fight response in her processor. She managed to throw the cruiser off course against the other side of the road, with her sheer force, towards the dirt. However, whoever was driving this vehicle was quick to recover. As soon as their right tires hit dirt, they shifted into reverse and tore their car away from her at the cost of minor scratches. It suddenly dawned on Strongarm that there wasn't a human driver behind the wheel at all. The cruiser was intact in spite of the crushing blow that it took from another armored vehicle. It was Cybertronian!

A Decepticon!

Who else would do an attack like that?!

Strongarm was reacting in pure panic now, the grinding sound of transformation began about as soon as the other vehicle pulled away from her front. The Decepticon didn't give her time to transform though. As soon as it had cleared away from the blue and white Tahoe, it suddenly transformed right in front of her.

She froze.

It was a Wolfcon, but the sight that made her frame seize up was that the Wolfcon looked exactly like Steeljaw, down to every, exact detail! It had to be, but . . . he had the same frame type as Steeljaw, but with foreboding colors of pitch black, snowy white and baby blue on his frame. The deep purple on his faceplate did not help the evil grin that seemed to grow with each word that escaped from his intake.

"Well, what do we have here?" Even his voice has that same charismatic venom that Steeljaw vocalizes with, only its just an octave deeper. He noticed the insignia on her hood. "An Autobot?" He scoffs, his claws twitching just a little. "Of course my brother would pick a planet where there's Autobots already occupying it."

Strongarm's alt-mode shook slightly. "Excuse me? Brother? Who exactly are you?"

"Me?" He smirked, his toothy grin more wider than before. "I'm Phantomjaw. Steeljaw's the brother I'm taking about, sweetspark." The growl he made on the last part made her shudder in fear.

Then, her spark nearly offlined at the sudden realization that this Wolfcon wasn't just a random Con here destroying a Bot for a thrill, but a Con who's the same as the one who's been trying to take Earth for his empire.

His small chuckles breaks her out of her thoughts. "Only you out here, huh? Didn't your sire or carrier ever told you not to go out alone?" He mockingly grins. "Still, you're no match for me. I'm on a whole other league than what you've ever faced before." He retorted to her. He cocked his hip a little with a hint of smugness to it. She could feel her anger boiling over the fact that he was just toying with her now. It was bad enough that she and her team were having a hard time with Steeljaw as it is, but now?! Even so, she was losing her cool. She was always level-headed, even in these worst situations, but it seems her processor was going into overdrive, getting too stressed out.

"Don't get cocky, Con!"

"Cocky?" He chuckles. "Sweetspark, let me give you some real advice..." He then gets into a stance. "Don't get overconfident," He glares at her darkly and growls deeply, "Autobot!"

Before she can finish her transformation, he rushes at her with a weapon, a wrist full of long and red three-prong claws. She managed to almost fully transform into bot mode, but she felt the weapon's force when she finished.

Her intake let out a loud, static screech of pain as the tips landed their target on the soft side of her protoform. The cuts weren't deep, but Primus, did they hurt! She stepped back, but he was on her again. She didn't even have time to grab her Decepticon Hunter to counterattack. She only had time to make a quick comm while this Phantomjaw slashed wildly, like a feral animal trying to scare its adversary into submission.

"Strongarm to base! I am under attack! I repeat, I'm under-!" Her vents seized up as the air was blown out by the sudden takedown. He tackled her to the ground as she got distracted and slashed at her front, bulky armor, chipping away the paint and gashing down the metal underneath. She blocked as much as she could, but she needs to retreat. Problem was that he was heavy with his bulky armored frame. She needs to act fast or he will cut something fatal.

Got it!

Strongarm managed to tuck her leg a bit and she angled her ped at its target. With one good push of force, she kicks him off a good feet away. He was taken aback by the weight of the ped hitting his underbelly and landed roughly on the ground. Strongarm took the opportunity to transform back into her alt-mode, the victory feeling small and insignificant. Then, it shattered as she felt a heavy weighted force crash into her left side so badly, it disoriented her. With how her left side tires were stuck in the dirt, her right side leaned up, beginning to turn over. The same force hit her again, but smashed into her undercarriage of her alt-mode. Phantomjaw's tires cut across as she landed upside down into the barren ditch and he vaulted over her, hitting the ground and tearing up the Earth with flashes of treads.

It hurts! It hurts so badly! Dented, crushed metal caving inwards into her frame. Chipped paint and scratches all over her. Her current mode flipped, undercarriage exposed to the elements. Dreaded realization hit her - she was trapped. She was going to die, spark snuffed out like some gutless fish. She can't die here. . . not like this. . .

Her team needed her!

Russell, Denny, Optimus, Grimlock, Drift, Jetstorm, Slipstream, Fixit, Windblade, Bumblebee, Sideswipe . . .

Sideswipe . . .

Her one, final thought left her processor as her systems forced her into stasis and activated her self-repair systems. Phantomjaw transformed back, panting with a smile, glossa lobbed to the side in slight exhaustion.

"Tough, little Autobot. You put up quite a challenge. At least I can finally finish you off without difficulty." He moves closer to her still form and raises his clawed weapon at an angle to stab straight into the spark chamber. Before he can thrust forward, he hears the all too familiar sounds of one of the Earth's inhabitants.

"Slag!" He turns to the motionless bot. "Consider this your lucky start." He then transforms into his alt-mode and takes off across the road and into the woods to avoid encountering the strange creatures of this planet.

"For now, I need to find Steeljaw."

 

* 

 

"Dad, I'm telling you. I know where this road lead. It just takes us to a few backroads." The girl scowled as she sat in the passenger's side of her father's tow-truck, watching the endless vast of nothingness for miles. The girl was Henrietta, or 'Hank,' as she preferred to be called. She was one of the residents of Crown City, which was an amazing place. To her, however, it was mediocre at best.

The father, Henry, smiled at his daughter with a bright grin. "I know that, Hank, but don't you just love the sights?!" He sounded so excited despite not knowing what he's doing right now.

Hank just give a small grin, "Dad, there are only a few places I know that have incredible-" She lurched forward a little, kept in place by the secured seatbelt of their vehicle. Her helmet goes flying since it had no strap, knocking into the windshield and dropping down onto the floor mat, landing between Hank's feet. "Dad?! What was that?! Why did you stop the truck?!" She looked at him as she reached down to pick up her helmet.

His face was one of shock, small hint of disbelief. He didn't mean to slam the brakes and almost endangered his daughter, if weren't the seatbelt keeping her firmly seated. He just spotted when he saw what caught his eyes at the last minute, just in time to see it fully. A damaged blue and white police Tahoe was laying upside down in the muddy ditch, like a turtle on its back. "Hank, look."

She looks over through the passenger window and sees the same thing as her dad. Her eyes widen. "Whoa! What happened to the vehicle?"

"Hank, stay here for a minute." He steps out of his truck and cautiously goes over to the damaged vehicle. When he walks towards it, he notices a lot of tire marks all around the road. It looked like someone was doing donuts or something of the sort, but it looked poorly attempted. He got to the vehicle, inspecting it from the passenger side. "What happened to the driver is the real question, sweetheart. I don't see an officer inside or outside. I don't even see any blood as well. You think with a wreckage like this, the officer would stay nearby or something."

"So . . . ?"

Henry thought about it. He really should call the authorities about this, but something compelled him not to. He felt stupid for thinking that, but people have made dumber mistakes and horrible decisions before. This wouldn't be the first. He stares at the vehicle for a moment, then decides to check the other side carefully. When he reaches around, his eyes widen at the huge dent that caved inwards into the interior, door stuck and destroyed.

"Damn!" He said quietly to himself. "Hey Hank, c'mere for a sec! Look how bad this side is!"

Hank jumped a little at the sudden shout, but gets out of the truck and goes to where her dad was. Her eyes widen at what she saw. She couldn't believe it. A cruiser, that supposed to take a few hits, just looks like it was mutilated instead. Was this an act of vandalism? No. The worst that vandalizers would do is key the paint and write graffiti on the hood. This? This had none of that. She just continues to stare while her dad checks around the rest of the vehicle.

"What happened to you?" She whispered to herself as she runs her hand over the running board. The windows were broken, shattered glass on the dirt, some buried into the Earth. The lightbar's outer casings were destroyed, the bulbs have small cracks. She then noticed some strange light blue liquid hidden in the undercarriage of the vehicle. "Never seen fluid with that color before." While it was strange, it was also beautiful. Nothing she has ever seen before. The closest would have to be that 'glow in the dark' paint. Besides that, nothing can compare.

While Hank was busy with her own observations, Henry finished looking over the Tahoe. 'Looks like that's it, but what caused this much damage to a cruiser like this?' He then gets a slight shiver. He immediately doesn't like being in this area anymore. It felt like someone was staring at him. "Well, we can't just leave it here. It's really damaged and by the looks of it, I don't think this is a registered police car."

"Aaaaaand~?" He turns his head to look at his daughter, her face of slight amusement. She knew what he was going to do with the vehicle, he didn't even need to answer. He just sighs.

"Listen sweetie. Let keep this between us. We'll take it to the garage back home and fix her up. And after that, well . . . I don't know what to say." He grunts. "Go back to the truck. I'm gonna reflip the cruiser back on its wheels."

Hank salutes. "Sure thing, dad!"

After a few seconds of fiddling the back of his truck, he managed to carefully loop the tow hook on the side of the vehicle and made it flip back on its wheels - or what it had left for wheels. The back ones were still intact, but whoever 'attacked' this Tahoe, the front tires were gone, just scratched up and airless. It took some effort, more from the truck than it did from Henry himself. The Tahoe was heavy! He has towed a police car before, but this was something else. When all that was done, he placed the hook on the mount underneath the front bumper of the Tahoe and he made sure it was secured, smiling when everything was done. He goes back inside the truck and starts the engine. He retracts the cable and the Tahoe's front is lifted slightly into the air. Normally, he would place the tow hook on the back side, but with the front's tires gone, he didn't want the exposed metal scraping against the blacktop. When he sees that the Tahoe's front is lifted off the blacktop, he smiles.

"Alright, she's hooked up and ready to go!"

"What are we waiting for, dad?! Next stop: Home!"

Notes:

I hope this chapter was good enough. This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I was getting tired and I fell asleep. So, here is chapter 2! Sorry for the wait. Working on chapter 3 now. Leave a review and tell me if anything is wrong. (I have some low self-esteem.)

Chapter 3: It Begins

He always had keen optics, even when getting older and wiser than he did in his youth; Drift never let his optics off his students - his children, to borrow from Sideswipe's curious vernacular. Sitting still in his somewhat meditative state, it never occurred to him that he would get so attached to anybody besides his minicons, especially back when he was still a Decepticon.

He thought back on all the times in his life that things changed. How he became a homeless bot to a supporter of the Decepticons under the name of Deadlock, joining the Circle of Light after being fatally injured and abandoning the group after the war caught up to the neutral Cybertronians. Afterwards, he ended up joining the amoral group of the Ronin, but he also abandoned them.

Now here he was; on Earth being on a team of random, weird Cybertronians, but . . . he would choose them over the Ronin without hesitation.

"Are you alright, Drift?"

The calm and smooth voice of the Seeker femme was a breath of fresh air. Better than the ramblings of the crimson-colored canker sore, being much too preoccupied with his own foolish vanities to notice the world spinning about him. However, he respects and care for his red teammate.

Windblade accompanied Drift and his Minicon students, Jetstorm and Slipstream, on a patrol opposite to where Strongarm's patrolling. The Minicons were keeping themselves busy with a few training moves since the patrol was somewhat finished. They haven't detected any activity, but they did pick something up. It wasn't a Decepticon, but definitely of Cybertronian origin. They decided to have a short break before they go to fully investigate.

Drift looks at her. "I am fine, Windblade. I've just been thinking about . . things."

"Things?"

He sighs. "About my past. I never wanted things to turn out the way they did. I am happy that there is no more caste system and the old council has been replaced by you and the others."

"For now. We're just only a temporary council until we get elections rolling."

"You haven't found any candidates?"

"Not yet. Though that might change. We have a few volunteers, but nothing is set in stone."

"Still, you and the others have accomplished so much, even keeping the Earth safe while the rest of us took care of the former Decepticon council."

She seemed to be thinking, almost considering saying something, but had to decide of it should be asked or not. "Well, we do have some time since we haven't gotten any Decepticon activity. Would you like to talk about your past?"

Now it was his turn to consider telling her about everything, or at least the important bits. He wasn't sure. He looked at her while she kept looking around, just making sure no Cons' were around and sneaking.

He began to realize that he enjoyed Windblade's company, maybe a bit too much. Upon her arrival, she drew everyone's attention, especially Sideswipe's. Drift also came to the conclusion that he was beginning to give her much attention. To be honest, it didn't displease him. Windblade was attractive, breathtaking even. She was a sword's goddess and that was a good trait for Drift. His students liked her too. He begins to remember the time where he, Sideswipe, Optimus and Windblade left the scrapyard to pursue roaming Decepticons from far out land areas as the 'Away' Team. He probably hadn't been the only one to enjoy her performance and discreetly ordered his students to thank her for her quick thinking. If he had more courage and wasn't so strict, he would have thanked her himself. His thoughts were broken by the sound of his student, Jetstorm. Slipstream wasn't far from him, keeping the same pace as him.

"Master Drift!" Jetstorm called out in a slight panic.

Drift looks at them. "Jetstorm, Slipstream. What is the matter?"

Slipstream answered. "We found something, Master Drift. We think it's what we were picking up before."

Drift frowns. From what they were searching before, they seemed to be close, but as mentioned beforehand, they stopped for a slight rest before going to check out whatever it was. Drift hoped it was sooner, the better. He already thinks what whatever it was was just a colossal waste of time.

Windblade looks at Jetstorm. "Already?"

"We're not sure. We were too deep into training to notice our surroundings for a while until Slipstream bumped against something metallic against a stock of bush. We checked it and it was a stasis pod!"

"Another stasis pod?"

"Yeah, but. . ." Jetstorm looked unsure, almost like he didn't want to say.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, we think it would be best to see for yourself." Slipstream answered.

Windblade smiled. "Lead the way then."

The Minicons nod, somewhat eager to show what they found. Drift was suddenly getting a dreaded feeling. He wasn't sure what it was that was getting him on edge, it was just a damaged stasis pod, right? His dread was now mixed with curiosity. He needs to know. He gets up from his position and walks along with Windblade to the destination where his students found the supposed 'target.' Thankfully, there weren't no human outposts or cabins around in the woods were they were. The Minicons stopped when they found the bush where the signal of the damaged pod was picked up. They pulled back the rustling green leaves to show of the pod. Drift's optics went wide.

It was impossible. It couldn't be. And yet it was.

Drift had fallen to his knees, frame shivering uncontrollably, facing away from the mangled pod. It was one thing for his past to try and catch up to him, quite another for a bounty hunter - any bounty hunter – to want him dead. Someone, somebot, must be testing his sanity. He couldn't imagine why, he couldn't even absorb the fact of it. It wasn't a Decepticon. That symbol on the pod answered all the questions he would have had.

Drift felt like he was going to be sick. His helm spun, he was dizzy even though he hadn't moved for what had to be fifteen minutes. Vaguely, distantly, he became aware of some noise. It was irritating, and he realized it had been going on before he fell to his knees.

As soon as he realized that, Drift's helm snapped up and he was now looking at his students and Windblade, who was now concerned at Drift's bizarre behavior. They were the ones making the noise, mostly of worry.

"Drift, what's wrong?"

It was a long drawn out moment before Windblade put things together and realized why Drift wasn't taking this in stride. Though strict and good-natured, he was a warrior. He'd killed Decepticons, done it without apparent hesitation, but showed slight remorse. But there wasn't a Decepticon anywhere.

Drift looks at Windblade. "That symbol on the stasis pod. . . I've seen it before. . . "

Jetstorm stares at his master. "Master, what do you mean?"

"That symbol . . . it's the insignia of the Ronin."

Both of his student's optics widen in surprise, for they understood what he meant. He has told them of the Ronin before, many, many times, but the possibility of the Ronin being here . . .

"Ronin?" It came as no surprise that Windblade didn't know about the Ronin, being in stasis for a thousand years would do that.

Drift lets out a heavy sigh from his intake. "The Ronins were a dissident movement of Megatron's Decepticon cause. However, they weren't very fond of his tyranny. So, they decided to become a group of bounty hunters. A neutral faction to put it simply. They didn't care about the Autobots and Decepticons's conflict. But, they'll sell Decepticons to the Autobots as happily as they'll sell Autobots to the Decepticons."

Windblade interrupted when realization hit her. "You were part of the Ronin, weren't you?"

He didn't want to, but he nodded. "It's true. As Deadlock. . . after leaving the Circle of Light, before meeting Shadow Raker, I planned to start over with the Ronins. In the end, they did worse than what Shadow Raker could have done to me and my students."

"Our Master didn't want that!" Slipstream immediately stood up for him before Windblade could make any accusations. "He had good intentions! He didn't know what he was doing!"

Drift gulped. Painful memories resurfaced. . . Horrible memories . . .That damned Ronin symbol only twisted the knife further. "One day, we tracked a bounty to the moon of Athena. However, we couldn't take it so the Ronins decided to destroy the entire moon instead. I couldn't help them. It wasn't honorable. I saw their true colors right then and there. So, I destroyed their only vessel and I left them. I never saw them again."

The silence Windblade was giving was the worst few seconds for Drift. This was what he feared the most. He didn't want his past to be revealed so soon like this. He wanted to talk about it on one of their relaxing days, almost like today. He never told his team about it, for fear of his comrades showing doubt of his trust. He didn't mean to keep his past from them, but he lost bots who were important to him. Like Gasket . . . like Wing. . . He doesn't want to lose anymore. He doesn't want to feel that pain again.

"Drift, look at me."

The tone was soft and collected. He looked at Windblade.

"Listen, I don't know the whole story, but something tells me you wanted to talk about this later. Or at least at a time where you wanted to reveal everything."

He nods. She goes over to the damaged part of the pod and traces her hand across the Ronin symbol. She shivered. Even touching it gave her a terrible feeling. The pod itself wasn't great. It really was mangled up to the point where it couldn't be fixed. She noticed that it looked to be . . . ripped apart?

"Drift, can I ask a question? Were any of the Ronins . . . animal-like?"

He was silent for a moment, but regained his vocoder. "Yes, there were three that I know of: Forager resembled an Earth raccoon, Foxtrot an Earth fox and Stilts an Earth avian known as a crane."

Windblade nods. "That would explain the claw marks."

Slpstream narrowed his optics. "Hold on. . . Master Drift, this pod seems a bit different."

Drift looks at his student and then looks at the pod's remains. He was right. It was more black than the light, neutral gray that it had. The stasis window was completely gone, but Drift could tell at one point that the shape of it was triangular than hexagonal. The only time he ever saw stasis pods like that were when he met-

His optics flickered.

"Windblade, we need to return to the scrapyard and inform Bumblebee. Now." His voice still kept its same sternness, but it was only to block the faintest hint of panic deep in his vocoder.

Windblade looks at him with slight shock at his tone and even his students looked at him, but mostly with concern and slight confusion.

"M-Master? What's wrong?" Jetstorm couldn't hide the slight nervousness in his own voice.

Drift looks at his students. He knew that they had questions. A lot of questions, but now wasn't the time. Not when he knew who was on Earth now. Someone even more worst than Steeljaw. Drift called Jetstorm and Slipstream. The Minicons looked at each other, but turned into buzzsaws before attaching themselves to his wrists. Windblade worriedly glanced at him.

"Drift, what- "

"Windblade, I will explain more later, but right now, Bumblebee needs to know about this. And. . . everything else. Please. He needs to know this."

Windblade looks at him, but she nods. "Alright, but you owe me a story, samurai."

Drift's stoic face didn't change, but he felt his spark flutter at the nickname. He never had a femme give him an alias like that. It felt . . . strange, but nice. He shakes his helm slightly. No time for that right now. He transforms into his alt-mode: a futuristic orange car that appears to be a cross between a Bugatti Veyron and a Gumpert Apollo. He takes off before he can say anything else. Windblade transforms into her alt-mode: a VTOL (Vertical Take-Off & Landing) jet. She follows close behind him.

As they leave, a pair of yellow eyes watches them leave from a slight distance, almost observing them.

Then they disappeared.

Notes:

I don't know how I feel about this chapter, but I did my best. Hope it's good enough. Let me know if something sounds off or anything. Other than that, thank for the review!

Chapter 4: The Demons Among us

Bumblebee tapped his ped against the solid ground of flat dirt, thinking. . . and thinking.

He was just waiting for his team to come back from their assignments: Sideswipe was Russell-sitting, Strongarm was patrolling one side of the parameter outside of the scrapyard while Drift, his Minicons and Windblade patrolled the other. He had offered Strongarm to take Grimlock with her, but she declined, saying that if she needed backup, she will comm in right away. She has become independent on her assignments, but dependent if things needed the extra backup.

He sighed.

He hoped that everything was going smoothly. But. . . he should have gone with her. He was a bit bored, but mostly concerned. He was glad that most of the Decepticons were back on Cybertron facing their punishment for the petty crimes they did before and after their time on Earth. But of course, Steeljaw managed to come back to try and reclaim the planet like he always does. He starts to think back on everything that has happened before he had a team. . . when he was part of a team.

When he first returned to Earth, it was not as it had been before. For just a moment, he almost took a breath in time as he stood gazing at the vastness of Earth on the other side of the space bridge. Bumblebee had felt as if nothing had changed at all; it was as if time had stood so still. But then Strongarm and Sideswipe had stumbled through after him through the spacebridge and reality had set in that he was stuck with two teenagers. Well, he shouldn't say that. They weren't exactly 'teenagers.'

He hasn't told them the truth. Nor with Grimlock either. He will tell all three of them one day, but not right now. Drift somewhat knows, but only bits and pieces. All that was for another time.

Bumblebee had only faint, vague memories of Cybertron before it was ripped apart by war. He had been so young, so very young, when all of it had happened. Coming out from the Well, meeting and befriending Rodimus and Springer, battling out to the end, and losing one part of his life. . . his voice. But one things for certain, he knew that the Cybertron that was lost was not the one that had been found. It would never be the same again.

And neither would Earth.

Bumblebee wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He didn't know how much time had passed here on Earth, but when he was given a moment's respite from the challenges of leadership of a newly appointed team, he went to search for his old friends and the places he visited before. However, he had so far found no sign of the old friends of this world, nor even of the places he once knew. The locations were there, he knew that much, but the land had been reshaped, restructured and - in certain areas - restricted. He couldn't believe how much time has passed. He could've asked Denny about the year, but Bumblebee found that he couldn't. Guess he didn't want to know.

I should've known. Cybertronians live longer than humans, way longer. Wish I could've seen you sooner, Raf . . .

The world continued to spin, oblivious to all that had gone before and could never be again, the voices of the past ignored or silenced. But Bumblebee could not mourn the loss of those he had known without knowing if they had died, and that was perhaps the worst of all. It would hurt his very spark to know the knowledge of what happened. Guess he understood the whole meaning that having biological immortality is difficult for one reason. . . you outlive the ones you care about the most and all you can do is sit and watch.

On Cybertron, the war had seemed so far away, so easy to forget. But with Earth . . . this was where so much had happened. The entire planet had been a battlefield, spilled Energon had soaked into the ground here almost as much as Cybertron itself had long ago. But not as much as the Dark Energon that seeped out of the Earth's layers. And the darkness at its core... Bumblebee had grown accustomed to it long ago. He hadn't even felt it back then. It haunted his every waking moment, knowing what slept beneath his peds, but as he grew, so did the fading fear. He shivered. He doesn't want to recall these memories. He needed to focus on the now . . . the present.

"BUMBLEBEE!" He knew that excited burst of energy anywhere. It came from the muscle of the group who was always optimistic, no matter the situation. Well, depending on the situation. Bumblebee turns his helm to see the familiar green and black Dinobot, Grimlock, coming up to him with evident excitement.

"Hey, Grimlock. What's got you so excited?"

Grimlock grinned. "Well, I was wondering. . . since you and I are guarding the scrapyard and we don't have anything to do right now. . . " He seems to be drawing out his words, until . . . he clasps his servos in excitement. "Can we try out our human disguises?! I really, really want to try it!"

Bumblebee thought of it odd that Grimlock was so eager to try something that wasn't his true form, but realizing that it would give Grimlock an easier chance to blend in with humans and less hassle of a time with his actual modes to hide from them. Plus, it would be good practice, since they aren't on patrol or anything.

"I wouldn't mind seeing it, too, Bee!"

"Denny Clay is correct, lieutenant. This would be a food-rude-, " the correction was fixed with a small 'thunk,' "Good! opportunity to make sure the holomatters are working properly and to make any nesscary changes."

Near Bumblebee's peds were the human father of Russell Clay, Denny Clay, and the orange, two-wheeled Minicon, Fixit. They were also part of the team, mostly of support, with Fixit being the team's medic and both him and Denny were the mechanics if needed. Those two have gotten along rather well, even better. Sometime, they still have their little tussles, but overall, they were the best around the scrapyard.

Bumblebee smiled. "Alright. I don't see why not. It'll give us to fix up anything if we need to make changes." He looks at Grimlock. "Since you're so eager, wanna start first, Grim?"

Grimlock's optics sparkle in delight. He nodded and transformed into his Dinobot mode. He towered Bumblebee a bit more with his height than he does in his robot mode. He goes up against the wall so he wouldn't get in the way of the day-to-day life of the scrapyard.

After a long moment of silence, Bumblebee laughed. "Can you find the code or are you stuck?"

"I'm working on it! It's hard!" Bumblebee gave Denny a look when the adult male snorted a laugh of his own, shaking his head as he reclaimed his place beside Fixit. "Look in your transformation code, Grim. Sometimes the label shifts there if it's been used recently."

After a few seconds of looking with added growls of frustration, Grimlock found what he was looking for, giving a triumphant 'Oh yeah!' for his hard work. His chest plates split open obscenely, and Denny had put a hand on his own chest in empathetic pain, almost like he felt that spiritually.

An utter wall of a man stepped out of the opening, looking to be in his mid-thirties to early forties, according to Denny. He towered over Denny and Fixit with a dark complexion and a pearly white grin. The outfit he wore was a muscle fit short sleeve t-shirt and green cargo pants. He also seems to have a green hoodie tied around his waist. His hair was short, but seemed to be in the shape of a mullet haircut and his arms were jacked. His whole body was jacked! If Denny had to guess, Grimlock's avatar body type would have to be a mesomorph type.

Grimlock's excitement couldn't be contained. "Well?! Well?! How do I look?!"

Denny was in shock "Uh. . .you look good, Grim. Just . . . not what I expected. At least a little bit."

Bumblebee chuckled. "You look great, Grim. A perfect disguise." He got a happy squeal in response.

"Now it's your turn, Lieutenant." Bumblebee looks down at Fixit, a look of slight hesitation was etched on his faceplate. It wasn't because he was afraid of using his disguise, it was mostly out of what the others would think. He has the design of his avatar the way he wanted it; comfortable and simple, or as simple as it can get. He thought of his option and with much consideration, and with the added 'puppy-dog eyes' from Grimlock and the gleaming excitement from Denny, he goes for it. "Alright. Here goes."

Bumblebee switched to his alt-mode as flawlessly as ever. During his time off of Earth, his alt has changed. He really enjoyed being an Urbana 500, but he wanted to be something else, something different. He went for a Chevrolet Camaro, but a call from another form caught his optics. He hadn't seen the design before, looking like some sort of hybrid until he found out from Russell's friend Hank that he took the form of a Griffin Motors 1995 Windblazer. It was then he found his mode.

He slipped out of his alt with years of sneak under his belt, but Denny saw the glimpse of an adult male with bright, electric blue eyes, hiding out beside the expensive-looking Windblazer. His jaw dropped when he realized Bumblebee was out of his alt. What Bumblebee didn't account for was Denny, Grimlock and Fixit's reactions. He shifted nervously, glancing down at his 'casual' outfit - midnight black and yellow sneakers with thick soles and a pair of black jeans held up by a brown belt. The right side sported an empty gun holster by the waist, and a yellow t-shirt covered by an slightly oversized yellow and black zip-jacket. The top of his hair was yellow, curved at an angle facing front, with the rest of the head shaved black. He kept his head tilted down slightly, giving the small group a nervous smile. "Uh . . . Everything alright?"

"Bee, you look incredible!" Give it to Grimlock to embarrass anyone with his compliments. It's not a bad thing though. Keeps moral high, as dull as that sounds.

"Yeah, Bee. Although, I'm surprised you went with a design like that. It does suit you!" With the added comment from Denny, Bumblebee was getting flustered at this point.

However, Bumblebee didn't get any chance to reply to anyone as the roar of an engine and screech of tires interrupt any verbal respond he had ready in his mouth. He turns to the entrance of the scrapyard to see the familiar red blur skidding to a stop a few feet away, kicking up the Earth with small to medium sized cloud dusts.

Grimlock smiles his grin. "Sideswipe's back!"

The dust finally settles when the passenger door opens and Russell rushes out, a slight panic of worry was spread on his face. What Russell didn't account for was seeing Bee and Grim's avatar right away, thinking there were other humans around the scrapyard, buying some of his dad's antiques. It took Russell a few seconds to realize it was just the Autobots and rushed towards Bee.

"Whoa, whoa, Rusty! Slow down!" His father comes over calmly next to Bee, being there to be sure Russell didn't accidentally tackle Bee. Last thing he want is for Russell hurting himself just for trying to get the leader's attention. He places his hands on Russell's shoulders. "What's the fire, buddy?"

Russell didn't mean to ignore his dad, but there was a reason why he returned to the scrapyard in the first place. He looked at Bumblebee, but the respond that came wasn't from him. It came after he heard the familiar whirring of transformation and heavy footsteps behind him.

"Bee, I think we might've spotted Steeljaw, or some Steeljaw look-a-like!" Sideswipe didn't let Russell have a chance. Unlike Russell, who was taken aback by the disguises, Sideswipe has seen their avatars before, a few times even. The only ones he hasn't seen yet were Drift, Windblade and Strongarm's.

"Wait, what?!" The panic and anger in Bumblebee's vocoder didn't go unnoticed.

"When I was hanging out with short stack." Sideswipe was quick to answer, despite the slight distraction of thought he had. "It looked like Steeljaw's alt-mode, but it had different colors."

It was then Russell decided to interrupt with his input. "Something was off about it, Bee. It looked like Steeljaw, but it didn't feel right. Like, just staring at it gave me a dreaded feeling."

"What do you-?" There was another roar of an engine. No. It sounded like it echoed. Wait . . . There were two engine sounds; one was the familiar sound of a normal car engine, but the other one sounded slightly off, mostly like it was in the air. A jet engine. Bumblebee saw orange and black and another of black, red and a bit of white. It was Drift and Windblade, back from patrolling, but they came rushing in like Sideswipe just did a few seconds ago. What is going on?

He could almost say that hearing the collected voice of Windblade put him at ease, but only for a moment before she cut it with her report. "Bumblebee, we have found a damaged stasis pod, but it's not one of ours."

Bumblebee couldn't believe this. First, an unknown Decepticon that looked like Steeljaw and now this? This can't be happening. Today, everything had been just fine, but now two different kinds of accounts were being reported. He was speechless, but not in a good way. "You're kidding, right?"

"We can assure you, we are not 'kidding," Drift stepped in at the last minute before Windblade could get a reply out. He glances at her for a moment and looks down at Bumblebee. "I know what the pods are, Bumblebee, but . . . you won't like the answers."

Bumblebee looked at Drift sternly. He had an inkling that the former bounty hunter had more to explain than he thought. Sure, Drift had his secrets and Bumblebee wouldn't pry unless it had something to do with a situation involving his time as a Decepticon. But now. . . Bumblebee wished he had gotten a lot more from Drift. He lets out a frustrated groan. "First, we have a new Decepticon and now we have a stasis pod that's not even ours, that possibly contained another Decepticon? I don't even-"

He got interrupted yet again, but this time it wasn't from his own teammates, but from the command console. It was giving out a loud ping every time the call went unanswered.

"Oh sheer-fear-" Fixit hits his chassis. "Dear!" He rolls up to the command center and answers the call, only to hear the distressed voice of the only other femme on the team besides Windblade.

[Strongarm to base! I am under attack! I repeat, I'm under-!] The transmission was cut off from the other end with the sound of crushing metal tangled by a roar and all was left from the faint ringing was slight static, then fading silence. Everyone was in shock, nobody uttered a word.

Fixit broke the uneasy silence with a shaky breath. "Sir, something's wrong. I . . . I can't find Strongarm's location. And. . . I can't detect her life signature. . . "

No one needed to utter a word after that. They all suddenly felt an EM field brush against theirs. An EM field that pulse with feeling.

A pulse of pure rage.

And it came from none other than the one sporting the color of rage.

Red.

Notes:

Pic of Bumblebee's human form (the one on the left). Credit goes to Velnar03 on twitter for the art. Reminder: The art is NOT mine! It belongs to Velnar03.

Pic of Grimlock's human form (the one on the right). Credit goes to whoever the artist is (I don't know who it is, but credit goes to them). Reminder: The art is NOT mine! It belongs to whoever made it.

I'll be honest, I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I hope it is okay. Also, for Grimlock's avatar, I wasn't sure what he would have looked like (since there were many choices to pick). Anyway I hope this chapter is okay and thanks for reading!

Chapter 5: Never Cry Wolf

Steeljaw couldn't believe this.

He was less than ecstatic when he found his brother on Cybertron when Bumblebee and his team were delivering their final assault against the disguised Decepticon council. He did his part with 'rewiring' the command console that was sending the mind control signal, but made his escape and decided to take a little detour. It was a little ways that he saw his brother being held up in a cell, waiting for trial on the past terminations he did to Autobots, some of them being higher ranking officials. Phantomjaw was slightly surprised to see Steeljaw on the other side of the bars of his cell, but he still held that smug grin on his face, almost didn't seem fazed by the sudden rescue. Now here Steeljaw was, tapping his ped and waiting for Phantomjaw at an abandoned, automated construction building. It wasn't the most luxurious, but it would suffice.

If Steeljaw had to be honest, he hated his brother. That hatred only grew in size over vorns and vorns, almost becoming unbearable. He and his brother didn't see optic to optic, and fought a lot of times. In their earlier years, there was a lot more scratches and bites. Phantomjaw would always knock him down with just a whack of his tail, looking at him with that gleeful look in his optics. Steeljaw would still have had the scars on his armor if it weren't for those repairs that he would get from the medics. Phantomjaw always won those fights and he hated it.

I should've have even rescued him!

Steeljaw's thoughts were starting to corrupt his thinking. Then again, of all the things that had happened to him, with his whole pack now gone and having to start from scratch, it was understandable that he was agitated. No, wrong word. Pissed. There we go.

I shouldn't have let him join me here on Earth!

He left his old life on Cybertron behind when he got placed in a stasis cell. When the Alchemor crashed and he was freed from his pod, it seemed too good to be true. He wanted Earth to be his and his alone, with a pack to follow his lead. While those thoughts held true, he didn't have any other options anymore. His whole pack was gone, back on Cybertron in stasis pods, Steeljaw needed what he could take. And with an unfortunate miracle, he was granted his crazed and possibly unhinged brother. Lucky him.

Steeljaw's ears twitched when he hears the familiar rumbling of a vehicle engine. His yellow optics stare at the black and white off-road vehicle that was coming straight at him. It didn't get too close as it came to a sudden stop a few inches from him, screeching its tires against the concreate ground, leaving black tire tracks that marked its territory. Steeljaw wasn't impressed, optics flared angrily and his intake voiced his anger.

"Where were you?! You were supposed to meet me at the rendezvous! What happened?!" He smirks a little, calming down just a bit and speaking in his normal, charismatic voice. "Did realizing that Autobots were here give you cold peds?"

Somehow, while he was talking, Phantomjaw transformed and grabbed his brother by the neck with one servo, pining him against the wall of the building. Steeljaw let out a grunt of slight pain as he felt the kibble on his back shift uncomfortably to accommodate the flat surface of the structure against his body. His optics bore against angry, yellow ones.

"Excuse me? Do you have any idea what I was doing?!" He yelled, his brother having the audacity to even predict why he was late. He then grins, a grin that his brother always hated. "Well, I'll tell you." He chuckles darkly. "I took out an Autobot. An Elite Guard, no less. Didn't kill her though, but beaten her enough."

"You mean the cadet?"

Steeljaw was quite surprised by that. He has faced Strongarm many times before, sometimes he would win, others she gets the upper hand. He remembers that moment where she kicked the side of his faceplate. Hurt like fragging hell, but damn, was he impressed. He really started to like that former cadet. Still did. But chances of ever getting close to her personally were very low.

He didn't miss how Phantomjaw's ears twitched and that the pressure on his neck loosened. "You know her?"

"Of course I do! How would I not?" He swats his brother's arm away, making sure that he wouldn't grab at him again. Of all the times he has faced Bumblebee's pretty cadet, how would he NOT know of her already. "That Autobot's name is Strongarm, former cadet." He would have kept talking, but something in his processor made his response pause and switch to a question. "Wait, you took her down?"

"So, Strongarm is her name. Cute." Phantomjaw smirked. "Of course I did. I couldn't finish her off cause this Earth's inhabitants were nearby. Though, having her alive would make a good rematch the next time we see each other. If she survived, that is."

Steeljaw looks at him suspiciously. "How exactly did you run into her?"

"Ah, well, I was taking a detour when I saw a vehicle coming into view, a law enforcer. At first, it looked like one of those ugly civilian's mindless vehicles until I decided to test the waters. As soon as I made a move, it reacted like an Autobot would. And she put up a good fight, only for her to make a fatal error in judgement and I gave her a reason to fear me." Phantomjaw growled the last part with a very sharp smirk.

Steeljaw didn't know what to say to that. He was somewhat glad that his brother can take down Autobots by himself without the need for backup, but. . . he attacked the cadet. He sneers at himself internally.

He couldn't believe this! His own brother fought with the former cadet and managed to come out of it unscathed. This is a reason why Phantomjaw was more dangerous than Steeljaw would like to admit. Steeljaw only managed to hold is own against her and the others because he had a pack. A team. He can only handle so much, knowing his own limits when it comes to a fight. Phantomjaw had none of those and still rose to the top effortlessly. He then begins to imagine his brother having a pack, 'Cons groveling at his peds, more willing to follow his brother's command than Steeljaw's.

I hate this!

He stops himself. Why was he feeling this way? He was a Decepticon, and a proud one at that! He shouldn't be having these'feelings.' If he had any feelings in his spark, the only thing he would be feeling is pure happiness when he finally conquers the very planet that he has set his optics on. Those desired thoughts were shattered by a snarl from the other Wolficon.

"Are you listening, Steeljaw?"

Steeljaw turns his steely gaze at his brother's own. "If I did, I don't care. We need a plan. It's just the two of us. Finding other Decepticons is gonna be hard, considering I lost all of my pack. I don't want to have to make a new one, but I have no choice now."

"And let me guess; you're gonna be the leader? What a great job you are at doing that. I mean, aren't you the reason your pack is gone? You were always the sellout."

Steeljaw roars as his optics dilated and he rushes at his brother, grabbing him around the shoulders while Phantomjaw did the same defensively. "I am no one's lacky! My ambitions overlap with other benefactors that I've worked with in the past, who all betrayed me by the way, and I'm not gonna let you screw everything up for me!" He sneers as his helm gets close to his brother's. "I'm not the same as before, brother. It would be unwise to test my patience."

Phantomjaw didn't seemed fazed by the threat; instead, he chuckled darkly as he moves his faceplate close to Steeljaw's. "I'm glad you feel that way. You've grown." He lets go and backs away. "And don't worry. I won't challenge you for the alpha title, but I'm gonna have some fun here since I'm stuck on this mudball of a planet."

"A planet that I'm going to rule. With or without you." Steeljaw growls that last part.

"Aww, don't be like that." Phantomjaw's ears gave a slight twitch as he looks around, observing the desolated territory and peaks ahead to see the swarm of different color lights that illuminated the city. He turn to his brother. "And what do you plan to do with those gross flesh things that live on this planet?"

"First off, they are called 'humans.' Calling them 'flesh things' is getting old. Second, I'll either have them as slaves or get rid of them. It won't matter in the long run."

"And the Autobots?"

Steeljaw knows what he wanted from the Autobots, especially Bumblebee. He wants Bumblebee to be crushed under his ped, right over the spark chamber. He imagines ripping out Bumblebee's spark with his own clawed servos. As for the rest, he could get creative. He wasn't really interested in the big, dumb Dinobot or the stoic samurai with the two parasites on his arms. The femme with the geisha makeup looked to be a formidable foe, but she was too overconfident, making her bite off more than she can chew in a fight. And then it left the battle couple of the group. He still wanted revenge on Sideswipe when they first met. He'll have to think of something for him. Same goes for Strongarm. He doesn't know where to begin.

Of all the times he could come up with an idea, he was hitting a roadblock. How can he mess with those pesky Autobots if his own disguise was now so recognizable to them? He smirked. He might know a way to do a bit of damage without having to get his paws dirty. It was a long shot, but Wolficons were clever. He can work around it.

"We'll take them out if we encounter them. However, you said you wanted some fun, right?" Steeljaw knew the right words to get his brother's attention. Despite the rough tiffs that they had, they can agree to most things. Phantonjaw smirks.

"Oh? What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Well, we will be going hunting. But a different kind of hunt. Here's the challenge:" He moves forward a bit and he transforms into his alt-mode. A few seconds past and the driver door opens in Steeljaw's body. Out stepped a man with unkempt grey hair and sharp yellow eyes. His wore a sleeveless jacket with the edges of the collar and sleeve openings covered in white fur. His pants were also the same white color that was held by a gray belt. His boots were thick and the top edge was covered in the same white fur as the rest. He also seems to be wearing some sort of spiked gauntlets around his wrists. His hands flexed a bit, sharp nails gleaming slightly. "Mingle with the humans. Stalk the Autobots." He chuckles deeply, looking off at the city as his brother tilted his head slightly in utter confusion, but never faulting his stance.

His eyes glowed.

"Savor the daylight, Autobots. Things are about to get rather dark."

Notes:

Here is what Phantomjaw looks like (if anybody wanted to have a visual). I don't know who the artist is, but it's their work, not mine.

Pic of Steeljaw's avatar (without the tail and ears {though I do love them}). Credit goes to whoever made the art. Reminder: The art is NOT mine!

Don't know how I feel about this chapter. I like it, but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Chapter 6: Escaping the Hunters'

Chains rattled.

It was coming from one of the four bots that was now just waking up from their restless recharge.

The first bot was the smallest in frame-size from his three brethren. He kept his original red, gold and black colors, but his frame has been altered, reformatted.

The second bot had the same problems as the first, his frame being reformatted; however, the colors are different, his being purple, red and black. If it weren't for the Autobot insignia, many would think of him as a Decepticon at first glance.

The last two bots didn't have many changes to their frames, but the third bot has colors of blue and black and the fourth had dark amber, black and gold.

They were inside of a giant ship. The "Knight Ship," according to rumors. The four bots looked at each other, optics flicking with tiredness. They were surrounded by many cameras while they were locked upside down in chains. They pointed at them right at the instant they moved, even just an inch triggers as movement. The first bot felt his spark pounding inside his chamber. He must remain impassive, as hard as that was for him. His teammates didn't react the same. Quite the contrary. The more they got well aware of their surroundings a bit, the more fear was obvious on their faces.

Breaking the silence of unrelenting fear was the sound of the reinforced doors opening up, revealing two Cybertronians with very stern gazes. They both had nearly identical frame types, but with few variations. The first one has foreboding colors of grey, silver, black and bits of purple, a lot of spikes on his frame, some on his shoulders and sides of his neck. His faceplate had a white color to it with purple, warpaint-like markings. The defining feature on his frame was the big, silver Decepticon insignia planted on the front end, almost looking like another face glaring at all who gaze upon it. Another feature of this bot was the hook that was attached to his arm, its green color contrasting with the rest of its owner.

The second bot was similar to the first, having a lot of spikes as well but he had his on different parts of his frame, four spikes on his chassis, each one on his wheels, few on his peds and arms, and there were two distinctive marron ones on his head, like horns. He had a color scheme containing blue, beige, maroon, and grey, his grey parts looked more silver than a dull grey. He also has a more, axe-like weapon on his arm instead of a hook like the first bot.

The first Cybertronian looks at the four bots in the cages. He looked amused for a sec, then turns to the comrade by his side. "You see? Prizes like this are worth keeping." He chuckled darkly. "If you know how to tame 'em."

The other didn't looked amused. "Master, we should just kill them." He looked at the caged bots as well. "Dinobots aren't exactly known to be good pets." He sneers. "Or trophies."

"Maybe, but they are the first and last of their kind. A treasured sub-species of Cybertronian."

"If you say so, Master Lockdown."

The first bot, Lockdown, looked at his protégé. He still seems to be looking at the Dinobots. "I'm glad that they have paralytic patches on them. Can't imagine them to keep talking their heads off."

Lockdown smirks at his student. He then looks back at the four Dinobots. He looks at each of them in order. First, the red, black and gold one. "Swoop." Then to the purple, black and red. "Slug." Next, the blue and black. "Sludge." And lastly, the final one with the dark amber, black and gold. " And Snarl. Four out of the five. I need the final one for my complete collection. As well as a few others. You'll come to understand the beauty of it, Axor."

Axor looks at him. "I guess."

"Did you locate our escaped fugitives?"

"I did. Unfortunately, they freed their teammate out of his stasis pod when they crashed landed."

"Where are they?"

"On a planet called Earth."

Lockdown sneered. Of course. He shouldn't have underestimated the Ronin. Foxtrot and Forager were very worthy opponents, sharing blows of swords and guns. Lockdown only had to use his hook once, but even then, they managed to save one of their own. He'll track them down and kill them eventually. Right now, with his display of Dinobots, he wanted to go for another hunt. Release some frustration out on an unexpecting target.

"Shall we track down another bounty then? If fact, you pick out next target, Axor. You have impressed me with our last hunt." Lockdown activates the main screen, showing off the long list of bounties that still needed to be collected. There was a mix; some bounties have be placed by officials, others were 'contracts' - bounties asked by individuals to hunt down those that were deemed unworthy, useless or just in the way. Axor looked at each one, some have a decent price, others not so much, ranging between 800-25,000 shanix. It was until he spotted certain bots on the list. Two of them.

They were Autobots, obviously, but they were not the same as before. He hasn't seen them in a long, long time. He was honestly surprised. He thought they were dead, especially the mech since he looked way different than before. The femme still looked the same somewhat, but she looked way younger than when he last saw her.

Lockdown looked at what Axor was looking at. "Hmm? You seemed puzzled. Know those two?"

"Yeah. Back before the war even started. The mech was a promising racer who was wanted in half of Cybertron's racing circuits, but because of his reckless nature, it costed him his career. As for the femme, she was part of the Wreckers for a while until she transferred to Security Operations. I don't know what happened to her. Last I saw her, she was heading for one of the colonies during the war."

Lockdown nodded. He could care less about the history of these bots. They were just scraps of the universe anyway. But their bounties - 500,000 shanix each! They must have been really important. He then notices three other bots with the same bounty pricings on them. The captured Dinobots looked at the screen the two bounty hunter's were looking at and their optics widen when they saw one of the bounties was someone they known and not forgotten: a Dinobot.

A Dinobot named Grimlock.

They wanted to shout, to scream, to cry, but they couldn't. Just like their free will, their voices have been silenced, unable to reach a peak of sound.

"Well, well, well. . . seems like we have a lot of bounties to get. Five of them, actually. And one of them is the last of my collection." Lockdown laughs lightly. "Today, luck is shining upon us, pupil." He looks at Axor. "From the look in your optics, you want to go after those two specifically."

"I do." Axor replied quickly. "I know them personally."

"Well, they're all yours. I'm going to accompany you. After all, we can hunt down our fugitives as well. A win-win, I say. Oh, and Axor . . . " He gives him a dark smirk. "Show your targets what a bounty hunter's protégé can do. Show them no mercy."

"I will, Master. I will." He looks at the screen again, familiarizing himself with the faceplates he grew to remember long ago. But what made him recall these two were not just their faceplates or their paintjobs.

It was their names. Names displayed on the right side, next to their pictures.

"It's been too long."

---

Swoop barely onlined as he forced himself to recharge after the bounty hunters' left. It wasn't the greatest thing to feel. It was supposed to feel natural, like second nature. He looked over to his brethren, they looked very tired and very pissed. They didn't like being hung upside down like fragging skinned pigs!

Swoop was the scout of the group. With his skilled flying as a Pteranodon, he gets ahead of everyone, easy for him gather information on enemy movements, strengths and their positions.

Slug was the tactician. He can carefully plan a strategy, achieving a specific end to a mission. But, while he was the most technically minded Dinobot, he has some anger issues. Unlike their lost leader, Slug takes his anger in a different direction; being extremely passive aggressive rather than suffering from explosive rage.

A analyst. An engineer. A medic. Snarl was all three. Swoop can't even begin to imagine how Snarl can handle being all three occupations. He knows that Snarl is smart when he puts his mind to it and, although sounding a bit morbid, dying was an occupational hazard for him.

Lastly, Sludge. Their logistician. Someone who analyzes and coordinates the group's supply chain - product goods. He manages the entire life cycle of a product, which includes how the product is acquired, distributed, allocated and delivered.

But those were just titles now. The war was over. And, as such, Swoop dreaded seeing the return of all he and his teammates had fought to bring an end to, even if it also ended his time as an outsider of the world he had once saved, yet seemed to be no longer a part of.

However, he couldn't spend all his time here brooding. The others would be wondering, shouting if he didn't answer. And he didn't want to explain why he was silent, here of all places. They already know. This place was hell, where bots would come to meet their tragic end. They needed to get out of here. They weren't just Dinobots, they were warriors. Warriors do not fade when their courage was tested, nor did they quit when things got dangerous. They would rise again to answer the call of battle and strike when things got rocky.

And that resolution only grew when they found out Grimlock - their Grimlock - was alive and well. They saw the picture of him, happily smiling. Actually smiling without his faceplate and visor. They had never seen their leader look so . . . happy. Maybe in vorns. Swoop wants to see him. The others want to too.

No bot should live to see what this ship still holds. Swoop thought.

He acted. He swung his body back and forth, trying to make his cuffed servos reached his peds that were cuffed and chained to the ceiling. He manages to grab hold after the sixth swing and with a quick strike of his servo, broke the restraints on his peds. He landed on the ground gracefully. He broke the cuffs on his wrists easily. If there was one good thing about being a Dinobot, it was the increased amount of strength. Thank Primus.

He rips the paralytic patch off of his chassis and looks at his teammates. "Hang on, guys. I'll get you out of here."

---

"Are you sure we prepared everything?"

"Yes, Snarl. I doubled check."

Slug yawned while Sludge dried his optics. Swoop sadly stared at them. Both of them were exhausted. They were all exhautsed. Not just mentally, physically too. Unfortunately, they didn't have the luxury for proper rest right now. They hadn't recharged well during the entire time they were trapped here.

In one way, this mission was a good idea. They hadn't been forced to talk to each other in the bounty hunters' presence. They stayed silent most of the time. Lockdown had shown Axor everything he'd needed to know about the ship. Explosives, their functioning, most vulnerable parts of the ship . . . and the most important thing, the shuttle. Big enough for a small group of bots, maybe around six to seven.

That information helped the Dinobots' plan to escape the ship more.

Lockdown and Axor have no idea about what they'd been thinking while trapped. . .

Now Swoop was in the control room while Lockdown and Axor recharged in their respective quarters. They had to act quickly. Those hunters can wake up at anytime and that would be it.

Swoop was going through the database, gathering what he needed.

Then he spotted Grimlock's profile.

He took a look. The screen displayed the profile. Grimlock changed. He didn't have the silver, red and gold he used to have, but instead had green, grey and yellow. Swoop wonders if Grim still has his visor and mask.

He looks so happy. Then he sees Grimlock's current affiliation. Team Bee? What? Grimlock was a leader of his own team. Why was he in another? But . . . it sounded familiar. He checks the information on the others on the team and that's when Swoop's optics widen at the names of them: Bumblebee. . . Sideswipe. . . Strongarm. . . Drift. . . He has heard of them, seen them before long ago. But. . .

They changed.

Really changed. Their frames were different, not the ones he remembered seeing them with. Would they remember him, too? However, he couldn't stay and wonder, with only so little time. He managed to download the information about the team, storing it in his processor cache.

It was then that Slug comes in. "Come on, Swoop. We need to go. Now. Sludge and Snarl are already in the shuttle. You and I are next." He looks at what Swoop was gathering. "You got the info? The coordinates?"

"I did. We now know where Grimlock is. I want to see him again. I want to see my best friend."

Slug nods. "Same." He furrows his brows. "What about the cameras?"

"We don't have time. Even if we did take them out, they would still know we escaped. It wouldn't make a difference." Swoop made a good point. It was now or never. If they waste anymore time, they don't want to stick around to find out.

They hurriedly moved though the hallways and steel doors quietly as they could. They made it to the large room where Swoop kept a lookout while, at the same time, Slug opened the doors to the shuttle. A fresh wave of air caused Swoop to slide a bit, due to his small frame. He managed to catch himself by grabbing a bar that was nearby. With some difficulties, he managed to crawl into the entrance of the shuttle where Slug had been waiting for him in.

In the end, he jumped inside just as the shuttle's doors closed. Sludge and Snarl were already ahead of Swoop, and Slug manages to get to the pilot's seat and takes control of the shuttle's navigation system. Commands had been activated to successfully detached the shuttle and sent it through space. They were just waiting for Swoop to press the button to detach from the main vessel.

Swoop didn't waste any more time. He pressed the button, mentally preparing himself for the unpleasant sensation they'll be through.

A few seconds afterward, the shuttle was suddenly launched out from the ship, the sound of rushing space wind resonating in his audios.

As soon as the shuttle was far enough from the ship, the speed considerably slowed down. All around them, star constellations surrounded their main view. It felt like they were floating. . . Swoop glanced back at the Knight Ship above them.

Slug growls. "Ignore it, Swoop. We're free now."

"He's right." Sludge adds. "Now, we need to go find our leader."

Slug nods. He enters the coordinates that Swoop gave him from the stored cache in his processor. He grabs the controls and and flies the shuttle towards the destination they haven't see before, but have heard of from many warriors and soldiers throughout time.

Earth.

Notes:

Lockdown

Axor: His frame (body) and what his head looks like. Here is another ref.

 

Note: If I made a mistake or two in this chapter, please let me know. Other than that, I hope this chapter is okay.

Chapter 7: A Partner

It was a fifteen minute drive. They didn't keep track, it was only an estimation. They did managed to get back to their house, the place they called home. Once there, Henry lead the tow truck on the approach to their house, backing it up and stopped it at the front of the garage.

"Well, this day was eventful, if not strange." Henry wasn't sure what to make of today. Strange, yes. A definite yes.

"It's alright, dad. We made it home safely and found a beaten cruiser. I think we can call this day successful! Uh, somewhat!" Henry smiled at Hank. His daughter knows just what to say to keep things positive.

"You're right. Anyway, you go open the garage door. I'm gonna unhook the cruiser and push it inside." He pats Hank's helmet.

She just swaps his hand playfully in response. "Alright, alright."

It doesn't take long though. Hank manages to get the garage door open. After that, Henry unhooked the Tahoe and pushed it inside the garage before Hank closed the garage door. He leans up, sighs and rubs his hands together.

"Alright Hank! Let's get to work on fixing her up. Looking at the cruiser better, it is a pretty sweet ride. Once we're done with her, it'll be back to looking brand new! I was a good mechanic after all." Henry beamed with pride.

"Dad, I don't think this cruiser is just a Tahoe."

"Huh?" Huh indeed. That wasn't something he expected coming from his daughter. "What do you mean? Of course it's a Tahoe! It's whole body is shaped with the design of one!"

"Look at the back, dad. The back part has a bedside."

Henry stopped. He looks at the vehicle for a moment and moves around to check. He really didn't get a good look at the back the first time. He was more focused on the front that he assumed it was just a normal car, not a truck. Was it a truck? He couldn't tell. It did have the front of a Tahoe, but to have a small bedside as the back part . . . was it a custom hybrid of some sort?

"Okay . . . I guess this might be a custom made vehicle then. I don't know of any vehicles that is a combinations of two different kinds."

"But that doesn't change that we can still fix her. . . right?"

She looked at the body, the same time as Henry did. If there was one thing Henry was grateful for being a past mechanic was learning about the body itself. The scratches the Tahoe had received were really deep, going through the three coats of the body to reach the metal. Each coat acted as a layer for the vehicle; the primer acts as a leveler, the base becomes the decoration and the clearcoat gives it that shine. All three didn't stand a chance of whatever decided to make this vehicle a target. Henry just looks at Hank and smiles.

"Of course! Though, I might have to find specific parts for her, but we can probably fix up whatever we can fix up. And you're gonna help, honey!"

Hank just smiles. Gathering the necessary tools, equipment and replacement parts, she and her father spent the whole day denting Strongarm's body, fixing the scratches as best as they could and other body work.

---

Two days went by quick. Things have been different and really strange. During these few days, Hank was trying to visit Russell at Denny's scrapyard, but Russell explained that some family members have come to visit and one of them was in a really foul mood. Hank, though reluctant, understood and decided to try and help her dad out for the rest of the day. She and Henry were inside the house, with Henry making some coffee as he and his daughter looked at the diagram of Strongarm's engine that he was repairing.

While they were doing that, inside the garage, Strongarm's frame hummed to life as she started to wake up.

"Ugh . . stupid 'Con. Should've just knocked him out while he was talking . . ." She didn't feel good. Not as bad as she was feeling before, but didn't feel the greatest. She was tired, but only a bit. She ran a small self-diagnostic on herself and found she lost a bit of Energon.

"Figures . . . " She scoffed lightly. She tries to start herself, only to find out that she couldn't.

"W-Wait, my engine won't start! And I can't move . . !" That was impossible. Of course she could move! She was in her alt-mode after all. She tried to move forward, and not only did she feel her axles spinning in place, but they felt bare, and less heavy?

"What the-? My wheels are off?" All four of her tires were stripped from her frame. She adjusts her side-mirrors to find her old tires laying against the wall, deflated and destroyed. She now found her answer as to how they were stripped. Her alt-mode was lifted off the ground by a small two-post car lift. It only lifted her just enough to remove the tires and enough space to check her undercarriage. She had seen these kinds of lifts before, passing by those car repair shops in the city when Denny needed to gather some supplies when his old beat-up needed fixing.

"Where am I?" She talked to herself as she glanced around seeing she was no longer outside. She then begins to wonder how she got inside this place. It was spacious, that's for sure. It also had a faint smell of roasted coffee. It reminded her of the times Denny would wake up in the morning, waiting for Russell and the other bots to rise from their slumber. It wasn't until she heard the faint, squeak sound of a door handle turning on her right side. The door opened, revealing a pre-teen girl walking into the garage with a paper and mug in her hand. The girl looked familiar . . .

Wait . . . that's Hank! Russell's friend!

Hank sat down at a desk on the left side of the garage, looking at the paper. Strongarm could tell that Hank was drinking chocolate milk because of the faint sweet smell it was giving off. She appeared to be very tired by the look in her eyes, evident with the dark rings. Strongarm stayed silent. The last thing she wanted was to blow her cover in front of the human girl. She just watched Hank, wondering what she was doing with her. "Hmm.... two days and my dad's just about finished repairing your engine, but this blue liquid inside you is still puzzling to him. . . "

Hank was looking at the vehicle. "It seems you run on this fluid. It's the same color as those glowing cube things I saw at Denny's scrapyard once. Maybe my dad can get some from him." Hank continued to talk to herself as she put the mug down and picked up some tools and walked over to Strongarm. "I hope you don't mind if I finish you up. Dad kind of fell asleep and he's a heavy sleeper. All I need to do is attach the new tires and do a few tweaks on your engine. Thankfully I know what to do." She got started on the task at hand.

Strongarm stayed silent and watched as Hank attached her brand new wheels. The only difficulty Hank seemed to have was getting the tires in place at first due to their weight, but after the second tire, she got the hang of it. Strongarm was impressed that Hank had the strength to lift those kinds of tires by herself. The tires didn't feel any different to Strongarm, but she was grateful for the change. Her old ones were losing their traction grips. After Hank checks to make sure the tires were on securely and had the right amount of air pressure, she then went to finish up the engine repairs. All she had to do was reconnect some wires and replace a part that she wasn't exactly sure what it was called.

Strongarm would have protested due to the fact that the internal wiring was basically messing with a Cybertronian's systems, but the gentle touches and movements Hank was giving. . . she was being careful. Strongarm was surprise. Besides Russell, who has touched her before, only ever touched her outside armor - mostly her doorwings and peds - and no more than a few seconds. Hank's touches were the equivalent to that.

"There we go. That should do it." She backs up and looks at her handy work. The vehicle looked brand new, thanks to her dad's past talents and help. She then goes over and presses a button on the left side of the car lift and Strongarm could feel herself lower to the ground as she could feel her new tires shift to adjust. The bar that was holding her up lower more away from her undercarriage and split into two, folding up against the lift. Strongarm was now free to move.

"Now all we need is to get that blue stuff, whatever it is." She look over at Strongarm. "Still can't believe we found you. How did you get so beat up? It looked like you were attacked by an animal." She talked to Strongarm like she knew the femme was alive, but Strongarm knew some people spoke to cars like this.

So Hank and her father. . . found me and spent days fixing me? This is the first time I've seen another human do this. Strongarm thought to herself as she noticed Hank swaying a bit from fatigue. She was about to lean back, but there was nothing for her to sit on, which would cause her to fall on the concreate floor. Without thinking, Strongarm inched forward a bit, letting Hank sit against her grill for support. Hank, on the other hand, was surprised.

"Huh? I didn't think I was this close to the vehicle to sit on it." She ran her right hand across part of the grill. "It's like. . . you moved on your own. . . " She spoke as she stood back up and turned around, looking at Strongarm. "Okay. This is getting weird . . . I need sleep." Hank told herself as she went inside the house.

"Thank Primus. I almost thought I blew my cover. She has talent. She was repairing me all by herself . . . but I'm still not feeling too well. Must be from some of the Energon I've lost." She was now weighting her options. This wasn't looking good. "I could transform, but that's really stretching it . . .and breaking regulations on top of it . . . I need to get back to base." Strongarm quietly started her engine and slowly moves forwards. If she could somehow open the garage door remotely, she can speed off without a second thought. She heard a gasp. She stopped when she sees Hank come back with her mouth wide open, dropping her mug to the floor of the garage, shattering it.

"Y-You moved! By yourself!? Okay, what is going on?!" Hank called out as she rushed over to stand in front of Strongarm, her expression one of anger. Strongarm cursed internally. She thought she could get away from the family without causing too much attention. Seems like that isn't going to happen. Her cover was blown. Knowing she could no longer fake being just a normal vehicle anymore, Strongarm knew that she would have to break one of the most important rules while being a robot in disguise.

"I-I can explain. I'm not just a regular vehicle. I'm called an Autobot. I'm an autonomous robotic organism, who come from a distant planet called Cybertron. My name is Strongarm." She told her, hoping she didn't scare her. She stared, watching Hank's reaction but the human didn't show much reaction at all. In fact, she wasn't scare at all. Hank blinked, then she gave an expression that confused Strongarm. She was. . .smiling?

"So, you're alive? An alien from a different planet?" She almost sounded excited, her eyes lit up in excitement. "That is so cool!" Strongarm slightly recoiled in shock. That wasn't the reaction she was expecting. "Nice to meet you, Strongarm. I'm- "

"Hank."

Hank stopped talking, her eyes going wide as she heard her name from Strongarm's voice. She was gonna ask about that, only to realize that if Strongarm was this cruiser all this time, she could have heard the conversations she had with her dad. "Right. Should have guessed." She chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

"I don't scare you?" Strongarm asked. She wanted to be sure, seeing as how any other human would have freaked out and did the next best thing: run away.

"Not really." She seemed more embarrassed now. "Well, only for a few seconds. I'm . . . I'm odd like that." Hank replied, looking almost ashamed at admitting that.

"Oh. . . Okay." Strongarm didn't know how to respond to that. Like Russell and Denny, she isn't scared of her. "Hank, how did I get here? How did you fix me?" Strongarm asked.

"Well, me and my dad were driving down the road when we found you. You were in bad shape, so we brought you to our home. And as for the fixing, my dad is a skilled mechanic, and while I may be young, I can be a grease monkey when it comes to cars, too." Hank stated proudly. "The only problem is we couldn't get that blue fluid for you."

"Oh, that. That blue fluid is called Energon. It's our version of blood." Even though Strongarm was still in shock by Hank's lack of fear at her sudden confession, she couldn't really complain. Better than her going to tell her father or call the government or. . . anything, really. She might need to make a note on that to make sure her father doesn't know.

Now, Strongarm had to consider something. She already broke so many regulations, the biggest one being her secret. She didn't want to reveal anymore than that, but given the circumstances, could it get any worse? Hank has been to the scrapyard more times that she could count. Primus, she practically would be part of the team if the secrets weren't kept from her. A choice needed to be made.

Strongarm transformed; only for her to hit her head on the ceiling. She quickly crouched a bit to avoid headbutting anything else. She decided to just hunched over in the garage, eyeing Hank who now had an expression that was a mixture of awe and wonder.

"Whoa. . . "

"Uh. . . hi . . ." Strongarm shyly waved. She was nervous about showing herself to Hank, but the human girl didn't seemed to mind. It was then that she noticed Hank reaching her hand out towards her. Strongarm shifted awkwardly, carefully moving to gently take hold of her hand without knocking anything over. It was a weird sensation for both of them. Warm against cold. Flesh against metal. However, it wasn't an unpleasant experience. They just looked at each other, not knowing what to say to the other.

"I'm glad you aren't afraid of me, Hank." She lets go of her hand. "However. . . " She then looks at Hank, a look of slight seriousness in her optics.

"I think we need to talk."

Notes:

The pic that inspired this chapter and the starting relationship of Strongarm and Hank: Pic

Note: The image was found on Pixiv, but I don't know the artist. Credit goes to them.