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War is hard, that’s not something Starscream was going into blind about. Sure, he didn’t like it, he’d prefer to have more variety in his food options and the pressure of the washracks was lacking, but he could manage that. His incompetent leader has become something worse, something he cannot deal with. His plans are erratic, increasingly risky, and the payoff no longer justified it. Their current issue is Megatron's brilliant new idea of a hostage situation. They’ve got a cage full of wailing sparklings in their brig, huddling in a crate Megatron had Shockwave steal from a zoo, and now he’s staring into it realizing how deeply fucked they are. How Megatron got ahold of almost all of the Autobots sparklings, he’ll probably never know, but he does know that this is not going to end well.Starscream has never really considered Optimus Prime to be a scary mech, sure he’s big and strong, but he’s also such a pacifist that he rarely really does serious damage on the battlefield. That is about to change though, because all three of his bitties are currently caged in the Nemesis and everyone with half a processor knows that Sire Protocols are not to be trifled with. Not only do they have Optimus Prime’s bitlets, they have Jazz and Prowl’s bitties. And Elita-1’s apprentice that might also be her daughter, he’s not sure. “We’re so fucked.” He breathes, letting his helm rest against the doorway.“Soundwave: agrees.” Soundwave nods, also looking into the cage.There are eight crying bitlets in the cage, all of whom have caretakers that are about to come storming into their base, fuck the Decepticons sideways, and leave. Megatron may have accomplished his goal of ending the war, just not in the way he’d hoped. “We have got to get these sparklings back to their caretakers.” He mumbles.“Affirmative.” Soundwave nods.Starscream curses violently in his head, not caring that his trine-mates can hear him and are likely concerned. They should be concerned, they may very well be offline in the next few hours. Jazz and Prowl are going to tear them apart. The upcoming slaughter is going to be so intense, they’re going to have to make up a new word to fit the severity of it. One of the yellow sparklings, Starscream suspects Optimus’s youngest bitlet, lets out a particularly audial-shattering shriek and both he and Soundwave wince. “Can’t you shut them up?” Megatron demands.“Yes, very easily, in fact.” Starscream agrees. “We’ll bring them back to their caretakers and we won’t have to hear them anymore.”The blow to the helm is expected but still unwelcome, Megatron has never been a bot known for his riveting debate skills, his entire arsenal is physical fights. Moron.“We give them back when Prime agrees to forfeit the war.” Megatron reminds him, as if Starscream has forgotten his idiocy. “Lord Megatron, I advise against this plan.” Soundwave announces, “Taking the sparklings is an escalation, one the Decepticon forces are not prepared to deal with. Caretaker Protocols are going to push the Autobots to come get their young, we do not have the forces to stop them.”No shit they don’t have the forces to stop them. That’s a whole lot of heavily armed, incredibly angry caretakers about to come busting through their door. Not to mention the rest of the Autobots, it takes a village after all, there’s no doubt in Starscream’s mind that the rest of the Autobots are just as involved in the upbringing of their hostages as their actual caretakers. Starscream won’t pretend to understand the familia systems that grounders have, but he doubts it’s terribly different from what aerials have, where the entire village tends to the young. He had plenty of aunts and uncles that were intrinsically involved in his upbringing, even though most of them didn’t live in the same habsuite he did. All the Autobots live in the same base, with the sparklings, that must build some strong bonds.Thinking about how royally fucked they are makes his tanks turn.“We will continue with the plan.” Megatron croons, ignorant, as he is with many things, to the existential crisis Starscream is experiencing. “Optimus Prime is not as stupid as he looks, he will not risk the lives of his young trying to fight his way to them.”He probably will, actually, given how Sire Protocols work. And he’ll likely be successful too. They didn’t bring much of their home worlds media with them when they fled Cybertron, but one common theme in their people’s stories were those of caretakers overcoming great physical challenges to get to and protect their sparklings. Stories not just borne from overactive imaginations, there were plenty of stories in the news about caretakers defending their young. “Lord Megatron, this strategy is unbecoming of Decepticons.” Soundwave tries, still under the illusion that Megatron cares about anything except getting one over on the Prime. “The sparklings are innocent, they have no weight in this war.”“On the contrary,” Megatron practically purrs (And may Starscream just say, that’s a big word by the gladiators standards), leaning in closer to the cage. “They have a lot of weight. They will be responsible for securing my victory."Another multisyllabic word. Good for him, truly, round of applause. If only he could translate that entry academy vocabulary to higher reasoning, they might actually get somewhere. Instead, their idiot of a commander flicks open the lock of the cage, pulling the door open so harshly the entire cage tips forward. All the sparklings shriek louder, trying to scramble up the smooth floor to get away from the scary gray mech reaching a cruel hand into the enclosure with them.“Master!” Starscream gasps, scared that he’s about to watch the warlord crush one of the delicate bodies.“I will be calling the Prime in a few moments.” Megatron smiles, ignoring how the bigger of the two yellow sparklings bites at his wrist. “I think some proof of life will help ease his processor.”Out of the eight bitlets in the cage, he fishes out two, the smallest ones. The yellow one that he’s sure belongs to the Prime and a small gray and red one, with Praxian wings. Prowl’s bitlet, no doubt. Megatron doesn’t seem to care about treating his small hostages with much grace either, he’s got both their ankles held tight in his fist while the sparklings dangle upside down, both of them screaming and panting like they’re about to purge. The other bitties in the cage are angrily protesting the loss of their smallest members, shoving against the bars and reaching through like they’ll be able to catch Megatron’s ankle and stop him.“No.” Soundwave declares, stepping in front of his leader in the first open display of defiance he’s ever shown. “Do not hold them like that.”He snatches the bitties from his master, turning them both over upright and holding them closer to his chassis. They’re still protesting being in anybots arms, but at least they’re at less risk of purging now. “You don’t hold sparklings like that, you fool!” Starscream scolds, agreeing with Soundwave, though he’d never volunteer to hold the little monsters. The last thing he needs is Optimus Prime to find his scent on his bitty. Megatron rolls his eyes in annoyance and grabs the bitlets back, not holding them upside down anymore but still not holding them as gently as Soundwave was. Their leader stalks out towards his throne room, he and Soundwave exchange a look of despair and rush after him. The sounds of the larger group of sparklings getting quieter behind them while they follow the wails of the two littlest ones. Soundwave pauses, rather suddenly, and opens his chest compartment.“Ravage: deploy.” He instructs, the felinoid unfolding from his docking port. “Ravage: will mind the other sparklings. No harm shall come to them.”The black felinoid nods once and then darts back towards the room with the cage. Oddly enough, the knowledge that Ravage will be tending to the others eases Starscream's spark a bit. He and the cat may not see eye to eye on most things, but he has to admit, she’s a very good soldier, the oldest of them (which, weird as fuck), and experienced with sparklings. She’s also small enough and looks soft enough to hopefully ease their processors a bit, given that she may resemble some of their toys.While she leaves to bit-sit, Soundwave and Starscream continue to chase after Megatron and his ‘proof of life’. Their leader stands calmly in the centre of the throne room with Shockwave of all mechs, both of them examining the sparklings.“Is it true that two of them are split-sparks?” Shockwave asks, head tilting in the dangerous way it does when he’s itching to take a living thing apart to see how it ticks. “That is fascinating.”“Perhaps if Prime decides these precious little things aren’t worth surrendering for, you can have those two.” Megatron suggests, making Soundwave and Starscream shudder.If intel serves correctly, the split-sparks belong to Jazz. Perhaps the mech he’d least like to incur the ire of. He’s never come across a living mech that would know of Jazz’s methods, but he’s seen the remains of bots that suffered through them. He does not want to be on the receiving end of those tactics, especially not after threats were made against his sparklings. He likes his wings attached and whole, thank you very much.“Call the Prime.” Megatron demands, spinning dramatically and planting himself on his throne.Shockwave, the aft-kissing, suck-up that he is, instantly complies. Though maybe in his own demented processor, he’s hoping the Autobots will wave off the capture of their own sparklings and he can get ahold of the split-sparks. Freak. Soundwave and Starscream move to take their usual places, one on either side of Megatron’s throne, though Soundwave has kept himself further away than usual and Starscream is closer. Just in case Megatron loses his cool and goes to throw one of the bitlets. The video call barely rings once before the screen blinks and reveals Optimus, in what’s obviously a conference room, with several high ranking Autobots. Including the ones who’s sparklings are currently in a cage in the Nemesis right now.Rage is an emotion Starscream is very familiar with, he’s felt it, he’s acted on it, and he’s seen it in others. But he’s never seen it so clearly on Optimus Prime, the mech is the walking definition of infinite patience, it’s one of the only reasons the war has gone on as long as it has. That patience is nowhere to be seen right now and all that’s left is sharp edges and rage.The Prime is standing at full height, nowhere near as tall as Megatron but not short either. His battle mask is rippling along the edges of his face, barely held back. His optics are hard and ebbing an icy blue, and his arms are crossed tightly in front of his chassis. Starscream suspects that it’s strategic, he’s hiding his right hand under his left arm, the hand that usually summons his battle axe. Like the battle mask, it’s probably on the edge of being summoned. “Megatron.” Optimus Prime greets through gritted denta. “Prime.” Megatron purrs, lifting the yellow sparkling up. “Missing something?”If looks could kill, they’d all be dead. Jazz, Prowl, and Elita-1 are huddled around their leader, all of them looking like they’d very much like to leap through the screen and dismember them all. Ironhide, Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, and Red Alert are also there, just as murderous. “Give’em back.” Jazz demands, Amalgi wings twitching erratically. “Cut tha shit an give’em back.”“Certainly.” Megatron nods, grinning like a cyber-shark. “Right after Prime signs the waiver of surrender.”“I don’t think you understand what wrath you’re incurring.” Ironhide warns, the old soldier is leaned forward, hands braced on the table. “We will fight to get our sparklings back.” “Think you can fight through my army before I damage these precious little things?” Megatron coos, lifting the red and gray sparkling up with one hand and tugging harshly on his delicate wings with the other. “I’d think the noble Autobots would want their bitlets back intact.”Prowl has his denta bared at the sight of Megatron pulling on one of the most sensitive parts of the little Praxian. Said little Praxian is screeching in pain, sharp claws digging into the weak plating of his door wings. “Put him down!” Prowl spits, his own door wings drawn up high, making him look even bigger than he already is.“Certainly.” Megatron nods.And drops the bitlet. The Autobots on the screen lurch forward as one, like they’ll be able to catch their sparkling through the screen and save him from the cold, hard floor waiting for him below. Megatron is grinning like a maniac and if Shockwave had a face, he probably would be too. Starscream darts forward, bracing for the pain on his unprotected chassis on the hard floor, his arms outstretched to catch the bitlet before he can hit the floor. The Autobots sigh with relief when he catches him, turning to keep him away from the floor and against the warmth of his chassis. He winces at the dents on his plating, but they’ll heal rather quickly, they’re certainly better on his frame than on a little sparkling. “Bluestreak!” Prowl gasps, hovering close to the camera.“He’s fine.” Megatron waves off, turning his clawed digits to the remaining hostage in his grip. “Now then, about the terms of your surrender.”The Prime’s battle mask finally flicks over his face, hiding the twisted snarl he’d been sporting. “Listen well Megatron. You will return our sparklings to us, unharmed, or we will take them by force. You have until high-cycle tomorrow.” He warns, his Energon Axe out as well. “Come and take them Prime, you won’t make it past the first gate.” Megatron taunts. “We’ll tend to your sparklings after your deaths. Shockwave is very interested in those little twins.”“You leave my bits alone you bucket-headed, backstabbing, slag-sucking, sonova-”Jazz is cut off by Ratchet tugging him back, clapping a hand over his mouth to silence him. Probably wise, Megatron is volatile on the best of cycles, it’s not wise to test his patience while he has direct access to their bitlets. “Keep your hands off them.” Optimus snarls. “So help me, if you harm them, Primus himself will not protect you from me.”In response, Megatron lifts the yellow sparkling by the ankle again. Starscream has pulled himself and the sparkling, Bluestreak, off the floor, but he’s contemplating getting back down there in case his moron of a leader drops this one too. The yellow one is even smaller than Bluestreak, his plating less developed. If he hits the floor from the height Megatron is holding him at, head first mind, it may well be fatal.“Bumblebee.” The Prime gasps, watching his son dangle helplessly from Megatron's grasps.Of course that soft-sparked Prime gave his youngest son some stupid organic name, probably a show of goodwill towards the little humans he surrounds himself with. Usually, he’d sneer at the name, but he won’t have long to mock him if his bitlet dies on the floor. “No!” Soundwave snarls, stepping fully in front of their leader and snatching Bumblebee from Megatron, holding him close to his chassis. “Soundwave: said not to hold bitlets like that!”The third in command retreats back to his place, Bumblebee sobbing in his hold. The big mech has his head tipped forward, helm nearly pressed to Bumblebees, a gentle tune humming from his speakers. He’s trying to soothe this bitlet the same way he soothes his cassettes. Optimus is staring at the Decepticon, like he’s judging how he’s tending to his sparkling, and then turns his attention back to Megatron.“You will return our sparklings to us by high-cycle tomorrow. Or you will perish.” The Prime declares. “We are not fools, we know that you will not honour any protections promised if we surrender. We want our young back and we will kill to get them.”“Come and get them Prime.” Megatron grins, ending the call.The gladiator stands, rolling his head to loosen the tension in his neck struts. Shockwave stalks forward, EMP field radiating pride like they should feel good about how they’ve just signed their own bounties. Then Bumblebee twists in Soundwaves hold, evidently not willing to be soothed by a strange mech, and shrieks unhappily. Megatron turns towards Soundwave, face twisted in disgust and rolls his optics.“Put those things back in their cage.” He orders.For once, Starscream agrees with Megatron. Bluestreak is shivering in his arms, hiccupping violently, and his face is stained with tears, he imagines Bumblebee is in a very similar situation. The Nemesis isn’t exactly warm, pits, this planet isn’t very warm, not by Cybertronian standards, and they haven’t got the power to spare on luxuries like air conditioning. How, exactly, Megatron expects their patchwork ship to withstand an invading army, Starscream couldn’t guess. “Come now, let's get you back to your brethren.” He murmurs to Bluestreak in what he hopes is a comforting tone.Soundwave joins him quickly, both of them pressed shoulder to shoulder while they hurry back to the cage with the other sparklings. They hear their prisoners before they see them, though when the two of them round the corner, they all press back to the far side of the cage. Ravage is sitting defensively between the cage and the doorway, her plating fluffing up angrily until she realises who it is, then she relaxes.“Ravage: report.” Soundwave orders, opening the cage so he and Starscream can put the withdrawn bitties back with their family.”“Skywarp tried to come in and see what was making the noise. I sent him off.” Ravage says, tail flicking easily. “Nothing else to report.”Frankly, Starscream doesn’t think Skywarp is the most pressing threat to these sparklings. If anything, he’s probably the safest for them to be around. His trinemate may have the spark to be just as brutal as the rest of them, but he wouldn’t hurt an innocent sparkling. He was likely just curious about them, given how rare sparklings have become. Still, Ravage wasn’t given an approved list of who to allow around the bitties, she was instructed to guard them and she did. He can appreciate that it was probably best to be over cautious and scare off a relatively harmless mech than be lax and let some monster like Barricade at them. “They will need fuel.” Ravage declares, walking in a circle and then leaping to the top of the cage, making some of the bitties squeal in fear now that they can’t see her. “And blankets, it is too cold for such small ones to be unprotected.”That’s a problem. They’re all on strict rations at the moment, due to failed raids on energon mines. What little fuel they do have isn’t very well processed as they can’t justify the loss of volume filtering out the impurities, it’s almost certain to make the sparklings sick. Pits, it makes most of them sick. They do have some blankets but they’re being used by the Decepticons. It’s too cold to try and recharge without them, not to mention any mech that might be soft-sparked enough to give up their own comfort for these sparklings are going to get their scent all over them. Something he doubts the Autobots are going to appreciate. “Problem: giving such unrefined fuel to such young bots will cause illness.” Soundwave points out.“They can’t eat nothing.” Ravage says sternly.“Well we can’t give them something that will make them purge either.” Starscream points out. “That’s just cruel.”Ravage glares at them both, her tail flicking in a dangerous way, and then she rolls her optics. “Deploy Laserbeak.” She orders, hopping off the cage. “I will return with sparkling safe fuel.” Soundwave and Starscream are left to watch her disappear out the door, no doubt crawling into a vent. Where she’s going to get sparkling safe fuel, he has no idea. The only place he can think of would be the Autobot base itself, and it’s probably the most dangerous place for any of them to be right now. She’d have to be suicidal to attempt that. Soundwave looks just as, if not more, confused, but he does obey the feline that raised him, summoning Laserbeak from his chassis. “Laserbeak: will guard the sparklings.” He orders.The bird tips its head but doesn’t protest. Instead, she perches on the edge of the cage and tips forward until she can look at the sparklings over the ledge of the roof of it. “I shall see if I can scrounge up some blankets.” He declares.“Soundwave: will find padding.” The communications officer nods.The two break off in search of the needed supplies, leaving the sparklings behind in the capable hands of a cassette that could fit in Starscream’s palm. ~~~As suspected, finding blankets for the sparklings is no easy feat. Most of their officers had to fight for the blankets they have, they aren’t rushing to give them up, even for sparklings. In the end, he only gets one throw that’s quickly on its way to being a collection of scrub rags. “Frags sake.” He sighs. He retreats to the barrack he shares with his trine, pushing open the door and slipping in quickly. Inside, he finds Thundercracker and Skywarp on the berth, the bigger seeker rubbing nanite gel over some scratches on Skywarps arm.“Star!” Skywarp whines, pouting at him dramatically. “Ravage attacked me!’The depth of the scratches suggest it was a warning and not a proper attack but Starscream doesn’t have the energy to argue it.“Poor you.” He says dryly. “Up, I need to take some of our blankets.” Thundercracker looks offended at that, wings twitching defensively.“But these are /our/ blankets.” He protests.“We have plenty of blankets and the three of us produce enough heat together that we will get by one night without all of them.” He points out. “There are eight sparklings in a cold cage that don’t have that luxury.”As expected, that melts Thundercrackers spark and while he looks reluctant, he and Skywarp get up so Starscream can take two of their thicker blankets.“What’s Megatron’s plan with them anyway?” Skywarp asks, watching his trine leader shake out the blankets to fold them easier.“So far, his plan seems to be getting us killed.” He sighs.“So the Autobots are going to march in here and kill us huh?” Thundercracker asks.“Yep.” He nods, popping the p. “He dropped one of the sparklings during the call earlier, little thing would have hit the ground if I hadn’t caught him. He also held the other one up by the ankle. He seems pit-determined to piss their caretakers off as much as possible.”His trinemates wince at his description of their leader's treatment of the sparklings. No shock really, it’s abhorrent. Starscream is no sympathizer of the Autobots but even he can admit that their young have caused him no grief. Harming them isn’t the show of strength Megatron thinks it is, it’s a show of cowardice. Only cowards cause needless harm to helpless mechs.“What are we gonna do when the Autobots show up looking for their bitlets?” Skywarp asks.“You’ll teleport us as far away as you can.” He instructs. “I’m not having us die in such a needless way.”It’s half-way a joke. He certainly has no intention of his trine being here when the Prime shows up for his sparklings. “I need to go get these to the bitlets. You two try and get some rest. Preserve your energy.” He sighs. His trinemates nod seriously, Thundercracker pressing the nanite gel into his free hand. “I’m sure they’ll need this.” He says.Bluestreak certainly does, the scratches Megatron left in his door wings must be painful on the youngling. Praxian wings may not be as sensitive as seeker wings but they are delicate, he remembers reading that Praxian wings were like antennas, they were information intakes. Having them harmed would be painful. “Thank you.” He nods.He leaves his trine to rest, returning to the room with the sparklings. Soundwave is already back, a slab of organic-made insulation in his hands. It looks very odd to him but it’s better than nothing so it will have to do.“Thundercracker gave me nanite gel, Bluestreak will need some.” He says.At the sound of his name, the red and gray mechling lifts his head. The sparklings have seemingly run out of power to keep up the crying and screaming, instead huddling together in a pile to share warmth. Bracing himself to get bit by one of them, Starscream undoes the lock and opens the door enough to get his arm in, grabbing Bluestreak as gently as he can.“No!” The sparkling wails, pushing at his hand.“Let’im go!” The bigger yellow one demands, sinking his denta into Starscream's plating.He hisses, biting his glossa to stop himself from cursing at the bitlet, and shakes him off as carefully as he can. That’s one of the ones belonging to Jazz, he doesn’t want the little one reporting back to his sire that Starscream hurt him, that wouldn’t be good for his odds of survival.“He’ll be back in a moment.” He insists, pulling Bluestreak out. Another sparkling presses himself against the bars, reaching pitifully for Bluestreak while the bit in his hands reaches for him.“Blue!” The sparkling wails. “Smokey!” Bluestreak cries, trying to worm his way out of his hold.“Be patient.” He instructs, tucking the bitlet in the crook of his elbow to keep him still while he opens the tin of nanite gel. “Just need to treat your wings.”Bluestreak squeaks when the gel touches his wings but doesn’t bite him, thankfully. The other sparklings watch with wide, scared optics while Starscream applies the medicine, pinging Knockout to come by with some bandages for the bitty. Their medic hurries to their location and kneels beside them, bandages at the ready.“Oh little one, you’ll be alright.” Knockout coos, carefully wrapping the scratched wings while Bluestreak tries twitching them away. “Just a moment now.” “No smack!” Bluestreak wails, trying to curl himself up in a ball. “No smack!”“We aren’t going to hit you.” Starscream assures, watching the mass of bitties in the cage reach for their friend. “We’re just trying to treat your wings.”“Blue!” Smokey cries again, scratching at the bars of the cage.“Guess that’s your brother, huh?” Knockout asks, tying off the bandages. “Go on then, back to your brother.”“We may actually need to take them out to put the pad in.” Starscream sighs, summoning Skywarp and Thundercracker. They’ll need more hands than this. Their prisoners screech at the prospect of being pulled from their enclosure, likely something that has more to do with being held by the Decepticons than how comfortable their cage is. Still, Skywarp brings himself and Thunderscracker in with a loud ‘vwop’ and Bluestreak squeaks in shock.“We’re holding bitties?” Skywarp asks giddily, fussing around the crate.Laserbeak squawks angrily, flapping her wings aggressively at his face until the seeker backs up. She settles back in but her metal feathers are still ruffled. “Yes. Just for a moment, we need to put the pad and blankets in their cage.” Starscream nods, handing Bluestreak off to Thunderscracker. “TC, I’ll probably have you hold the smallest ones.”“Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep siblings together?” Knockout asks.He sighs, stretching his arms out after the strain of having to hold Bluestreak still. It might be more ideal to have the siblings together for their sakes, but he worries about the bigger sparklings fighting their holders and a bitty getting dropped by mistake. Besides, Bumblebee and Bluestreak are young enough that they haven’t got the coordination to really struggle and they’ve already been scared witless by Megatron swinging them around earlier. It’s probably better to keep them split up to get them back in their cage quicker than to have the mechs struggle with them and keep them away from each other for longer. “If we can get this done quickly, this shouldn’t take too long.” He reasons. “Better to just group them up as needed.”“Who am I holding?” Skywarp asks eagerly, smiling at Bluestreak in Thundercrackers arms.“I’ll probably have you take the little blue and pink one and the gray, blue and red one.” He thinks aloud. “Soundwave, could you take the twins? I’ll give Bumblebee to Thundercracker so we’ll keep the newsparks together, and Knockout, can you take the red two?”“Affirmative.” Soundwave nods.Knockout nods and Skywarp barely contains a squeal of excitement, only reeling himself in when Starscream shoots him a look. He does not need any bitties dropped because Skywarp is fidgety. “Alright, and then I’ll put the padding and blankets in.” He nods. “Let’s get this over with.”Laserbeak eyes them all suspiciously as they crowd around the door of the cage, Starscream reaching in to fish out sparklings at random to hand off to their designated holder. As suspected, the Prime’s older two are trying very hard to keep their younger brother safe from the reaching hands, so he scoops them out first, handing them off to Knockout, who steps back to keep their flailing limbs out of the way. Once those two are out, the twins get more aggressive, throwing themselves towards the door like they’re going to overwhelm their captors. Instead, Starscream scoops them up, ignores the clawed fingertips and denta digging into his plating, and holds them out for Soundwave. The blue and pink one, the only femme, squeals in fear when he lifts her up, leaving only Smokey and Bumblebee in the cage. Skywarp holds her happily, unbothered by her hiccupping, free arm extended for Starscream to put Smokey in his hold. True to his suspicions, Bumblebee isn’t old enough to really put up much of a fight. The way his limbs move, clumsy and slow, he’s probably not fully walking on his own yet. Their intel only informed them about the sparklings existence a few hexa-cycles before they had to abandon Cybertron, he’s likely only five vorns old at most. “Come here, little bitty.” He coos, scooping him up. “Go see Thundercracker, he’ll take care of you.”“Hello.” Thundercracker smiles, kneeling with Bluestreak to hold them both in his lap. “Aren’t you two just the cutest.”The four bots holding the sparklings huddle close together, trying to ease some of the stress for them. Knockout and Skywarp are also trying to make some conversation with their bitties, either because they’re uncomfortable or they’re optimists who actually think these newsparks are going to trust them. Soundwave is getting bitten and scratched to hell. “What are your names?” Skywarp asks.The bigger of the sparklings, Optimus Prime’s oldest, responds by smacking him on the nose. The smaller red one is reaching for Thundercracker and his two, wiggling desperately. “Bee!” He cries.“He’s okay, they’re both okay.” Thundercracker assures, calm because he’s got the only two sparklings that aren’t actively fighting.Bumblebee burbles at his brothers, reaching up for him. Bluestreak is staring up at Smokey, no longer screaming but still muttering quietly.“Almost done.” He promises, spreading out the pad and tucking it between the bars. “Just a few more seconds.”A sparkling squeals behind him and he winces. No doubt about it, they’ve got a good set of vents on them. The pad securely in place, he lays the thin blanket on top of it, twisting the thicker blankets into a nest, the way his caretakers used to when he was a sparkling. It’s certainly more of an aerial style of sparkling bed than the groundlings are likely used to, but hopefully, it’ll be comfortable.“There, all done.” He declares, sitting back. “Put them back in.” “Awww, but these are my lil’guys!” Skywarp protests, holding Smokey and the femmeling.The femme responds by pushing against him, trying to get away.“How are we getting them back in?” Knockout asks.“Probably put Thundercrackers two in first, then Skywarps, then yours, and then the twins.” He replies. “That’s probably the best way to do it.”He doesn’t want the more active sparklings accidentally squishing the smaller ones if they decide to try and fight. It seems the twins are prone to that. “Ready for bed?” Thundercracker asks, handing Bluestreak and Bumblebee to Starscream. “Good dark-cycle!”Starscream rolls his eyes at the sickly sweet tone his trinemate is using but chooses not to comment. Primus knows they probably need it, with how horrible their day has been so far. He puts them in the centre of the nest, watching them wiggle into the soft bed he’s made, it’s certainly more comfortable than the cold base of the cage had been.“Okay, Skywarp, your two next.” He instructs. The purple and black seeker pouts but obliges, getting down onto his knees to hand them off, Smokey first, who runs to his brother, followed by the femme. The four sparklings curl up tight together, wiggling down until they’re pressed into the padding and blankets. He takes Knockouts bitties next, Optimus’s older two sparklings running to check on their youngest brother, tripping over the edge of the nest to nudge him and examine him.“He’s okay.” Starscream assures, reaching for the twins.Despite how vicious they’ve been thus far, the twins actually abstain from biting or scratching him. Instead, they wiggle until Starscream releases them and they clamber into the nest, all eight sparklings curled up tight in the blankets. Most of the crying also quiets down, replaced by sniffles and squeaks. Apparently, they could have been enjoying a quieter ship if they’d thought of putting blankets in with the sparklings earlier. “Well, they look cosy.” Ravage comments, making all but Soundwave jump.“Primus, I hate you.” Knockout mumbles, getting a swat from Soundwave.“Query: did Ravage find fuel?” Soundwave asks.“I did.” Ravage says, dipping her head.She opens up her subspace, pulling out three pristine cubes of perfectly refined energon. No dark particles floating in it, not cloudy, and not tinged green. It’s more than ideal, it’s what he’d eat on Cybertron before the war, it’s quality they can’t afford to have anymore because filtering out all the impurities removes the volume by half. His mouth is watering just looking at it.“Where did you find that?” Knockout demands.“Did you raid the Autobot base?” Skywarp asks.“No, of course not.” Ravage scoffs, shaking her paws daintily. “There’s a human base that I know of that keeps some energon around. Not enough to be worth raiding, but enough that I could take some for the sparklings.”“They may very well be worth raiding.” Thundercracker mutters, eyeing the cubes.“You want the Autobots to come kick your aft for half a crate of energon?” Ravage asks.“No.” Thundercracker replies. “Thought so.” Ravage nods, turning to her host. “The younger ones may need help consuming it.”Well fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. Somehow, he doubts that’s going to go over well with their siblings. That said, he can’t very well leave them hungry either.“We will help them consume.” Soundwave assures.“We’ll need to divide up the fuel.” Knockout comments, examining the cubes. “How?” Thundercracker asks.“Well, the best way to do it would be to split it up based on the weight of the sparklings. The biggest red one and the twins will likely need the most.” Knockout says, claw tucked under his chin while he thinks. “Then the femme and Smokey and the smaller red one. The newsparks aren’t likely to need too much, they’re so small.”“I can feed the newsparks!” Skywarp volunteers.“You drop everything.” Thundercracker retorts. “You’re not allowed to touch the newsparks.”“What! I don’t drop everything!” He protests. “Star!”“TC is right, you’re not allowed to touch the newsparks.” He says, trying to work out how to divide up the fuel. “You can go get some containers we can divide the fuel into though.”Skywarp teleports off after muttering about how unfair it is that he can’t hold the newsparks. However, when he teleports back, he drops most of the containers he was holding, so Starscream is standing firm on the ‘no newsparks for Skywarp’ decree. He’s fine letting his trinemate look at the sparklings while he and Knockout sort the fuel into the different containers, eyeballing approximately how much each bitlet will need. In the end, they have eight containers full of energon ready to be distributed. Now to get it to the sparklings. They’ll have to open the door again, which is risky because they don’t want any of them getting out and running around the base. Primus forbid Shockwave found a lone sparkling, especially one of the twins. Even if it weren’t him, there are plenty of bots on the Nemesis that may take out some anger against the Autobots on their sparklings. “Okay listen up!” Starscream orders, some of the sparklings lifting their heads to look at him. “We’re going to give you your fuel, but we’re going to have to open the door to do it and we don’t want any little bitlets trying to run off, got it?”The twins glare at him but Primes oldest nods, nudging them gently. The three huddle together, whispering furiously for a moment before the twins relax and nod reluctantly. It seems the promise of fuel is enough to pacify their need to attack.Carefully, just in case they’re being duped, Starscream opens the lock and cracks the door, prepared for one of them to rush it. None do, they’re still tense and uncomfortable, Smokey, the femme, and Prime’s middle child are flattening themselves into their nest, only the tops of their heads and the big optics visible. The twins look ready to attack at any second, Prime’s eldest is cautious, and Bluestreak and Bumblebee are just laid in the centre of the nest where Starscream placed them. “Here you go.” Starscream says, handing the twins their containers. “Don’t spill now.”The yellow bitlet reaches out, his brother ready to attack at the first sign of trouble, but all that happens is the yellow one takes their fuel and Starscream pulls his hand back to grab another container. He really needs to learn their names, there are too many red ones to be calling them by their colours.That will have to wait though, they need to feed the little brats before he can learn their names. Perhaps it's unfair to call them brats, he’d be pretty pissed too if he were kept in a cage by a psychopathic gladiator-turned-warlord who wanted to kill his caretakers. He hands off a container to Optimus’s oldest next, quickly followed by a container to his middle bitlet. Smokey and the femme’s containers go in next, making six out of eight sparklings taken care of. Now for the newsparks.“We need to have your youngests to help them fuel.” He informs. “Thundercracker can take one and Soundwave can take one. They will be returned when they’ve finished eating.” “No!” The twins shout in tandem. “Yes, they’re too young to fuel on their own.” He argues. “Blue can fuel!” Smokey protests, putting his container near his younger brother. “Come on Blue!”Bluestreak blinks owlishly at the offered container, then dips his whole hand into the energon, pulls it back out, dripping some everywhere, and starts gnawing on his own fist. Skywarp audibly snorts behind him and Starscream has to close his eyes and count to ten. These are little bitties that are scared, they are not like Megatron, acting stupid just for the sake of it.“I appreciate that he can get the energon to his mouth.” Starscream says finally. “But he’s awfully messy. If we feed him, he can come back clean and we won’t have to take him to the washracks to be rinsed off.”“No take!” The femme cries, wrapping her free arm around Bluestreak.“We can either take him to feed him or take him to wash him off.” Starscream bargains. That gets some mumbling from his older brother but Smokey does nod, not crying when Starscream scoops up the red and gray bitlet, handing him off to Soundwave. There are no protests when he takes Bumblebee either, handing the yellow sparkling off to Thundercracker.“Hello again.” Thundercracker greets, sitting cross-legged with Bumblebee held in the crook of his arm, grabbing the allotted energon for the little one. “We have some yummy energon here, yes we do!”Bumblebee babbles eagerly at the sight of the fuel, making grabby hands at it. Skywarp leans heavily against Thundercrackers back, peeking at the sparkling over his shoulder and cooing at him. Soundwave is much more efficient, Laserbeak on his shoulder, Bluestreak resting against his chassis, and a cube held carefully to his lips so he can drink. Starscream leaves the door of the cage open, keeping himself in front of the opening so there are no escapes, and readies himself to take back the empty containers. The sparklings in the cage are getting through their fuel much quicker than the younger two. Though the femme and Prime’s middle bitlet are a little messy. Not enough to warrant a trip to the wash racks but enough that it makes Knockout grimace a bit. The fuel disappears relatively quickly, after an entire cycle without fuel, the sparklings are hungry. With full tanks, Bumblebee and Bluestreak are placed back in with their siblings, the empty containers are collected, and the door is shut and locked. All the little bitties have seemingly hit their limit, piling up in the nest, tucked in together, yawning as their processors pull them towards recharge.“Awww.” Skywarp coos. “Guys, I want a sparkling.”“No.” Knockout, Soundwave, and Starscream say at the same time.“Fuckers.” Skywarp mutters.Thundercracker reaches over and swats him.“Don’t curse around the bitties. We don’t need them going home telling their caretakers we taught them bad words.” He scolds.“Speaking of, what’s our plan for getting them home?” Knockout asks. “We cannot keep them here.”Looking around for any sign of Megatron, Starscream beckons them further from the cage to tell them his forming plan.“Our plan is for Skywarp to teleport the three of us as far away from here as he can when the Autobots show up tomorrow for their bitties.” He whispers. “Not sure what your plan is.”“That’s hardly a plan.” Knockout scoffs.“I’m open to other suggestions.” He snarks back.That shuts him up quickly, obviously, he doesn’t have a lot of ideas himself. Still, the five of them do not want to be here when the Autobots come through for their bits. “Any chance Skywarp can take me too?” Knockout asks.~~~Jazz has fallen into a destructive cycle since the video call ended. Despite the fact that they’re still hours out from the deadline, hours until Optimus has assured them they’ll storm the Decepticon base for their sparklings, he can’t relax. He should be still, he should be resting and preserving his energy for the upcoming fight. But he can’t. There’s a turbulent rhythm in his spark, choking him, splitting through his plating, making it impossible for his limbs to keep still. He’ll pace until it eases up, sit back down to re-check his weapons, and then stand up to pace again when the rhythm gets too strong to ignore. Megatron has his sparklings, Shockwave has an interest in his sparklings. Instead of being safe in their berth, with their toys and Bob and their blankets, they’re in Primus knows what kind of conditions on the Nemesis. What if he’s keeping them separated? Or if he’s letting Shockwave poke at them?He growls as he empties his blaster, checks his scope again, and then reloads it. Hound looks up at him sympathetically, now commenting on how tense he is. “We’ll get them back Jazz.” Ironhide assures, sitting tense on the bench across the room.“We should go get them now!” He snaps, feeling like he’s about to purge. “They’ve been stuck there for hours! Who knows what pit-inspired slag ole’ buckethead is putting them through?”Those fragging cowards, they took the bitlets when they were out playing in the field beside the Arc. Not even out of sight and a bunch of fragging seekers came out and snatched them. What kind of sick fuck takes bitlets? “Prime gave em till high-cycle tomorrow.” Ironhide reminds him.“I don’t care!” He snaps. “Every second they’re there is another second they could be getting hurt!”His imagination is running wild with what could be happening to his sparklings. It’s so easy to hurt bitlets, as feisty as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are, they’re still little. What if somebot grabs them by the ankles like Megatron did to Bumblebee? Or drops them like he did to Bluestreak?“I agree with Jazz.” Elita-1 announces. “Every passing hour increases the odds that we will not find them alive.”He pictures finding his bitlets, still and colourless, and his tanks lurch dangerously in his abdomen. Hound notices and hands him a bin in case he purges. Would he even find full bodies, or the scraps left behind after his sparklings were salvaged for parts?“Megatron is relying on his possession of the sparklings granting him power over us.” Optimus reasons. “Harming them would be against his best interest.”“Following us to this planet was against his best interest!” Elita-1 snarls. “We’re just going to let him have another half cycle with our young?”“No.” Optimus assures. “We will roll out at dawn. Either the Decepticons will give us our sparklings willingly or we will fight our way to them.”“We should go now!” He snarls. “It’s late, Optimus, the last meal they ate was this morning! They’ll need fuel!”“I understand your concerns, but going now is too soon, they’ll be expecting it.” Optimus reasons. “Waiting till dawn, when our intel says they change shifts, is our best bet for getting them back safely. We’ll have the element of surprise.”Elita-1 is tapping her foot impatiently, she’s been pacing like Jazz. The two of them haven’t been properly still since they discovered their bitlets were missing.“Prowl!” She implores, clearly wanting him to side with her.“Optimus is right.” The former enforcer sighs. “Catching them unawares is our best bet, both for our chances of an easy victory and for the survival of our sparklings.”“We would never be waiting like this if it were grown mechs!” Jazz snaps, as if he doesn’t know why.“Because grown mechs are able to fight their captors, we assume that they will be in better condition to help get themselves out the quicker we attack.” Ironhide says patiently. “None of the bits are big enough or trained enough to reasonably defend themselves against an attack from a grown bot.”“Jazz, Elita, my friends, I understand your fears.” Optimus assures. “My bitlets are there too, so are Prowls. But he’s run the numbers and we’ve gone over the odds for every strategy. This is the one that gives our young the best chance for survival.”He hates this. Part of him, an incredibly immature, selfish part of him wants to wave the rest of the team off, go rogue, and break into the Nemesis himself to get the sparklings. That would be a bad idea though, the logical part of his processor reminds him. If it were one bit, he would, but it’s not, it’s eight. That would just be a death sentence for him and the sparklings.Instead, he gets up and starts pacing again.~~~While the loss of two of their blankets isn’t life ending, it does noticeably affect their comfort. Even with Thundercracker running like the furnace he is, it’s still uncomfortably cold in their berthroom. Starscream is curled up against his largest trinemate as close as he can, trying to leech as much warmth from him as possible. On the blue seeker’s other side, Skywarp is doing the same thing.That’s when they hear it, echoing through the halls and the vents until it reaches their room. A desperate and pitiful,“Cheeer-up!”Followed by a beat of silence. Then,“Weee-ou!”He moans, slapping his hand over his face, and tucks his fact into the crook of Thundercrackers wing and back.“Is that what it sounds like?” Skywarp asks.“Yeee-pip!”“Yes.” Thundercracker mumbles, pressing his own face down into the pillow. “Fuck.”It’s the sparklings. And they’re calling for their caretakers. One of the few constants among Cybertronians, it’s a call sparklings have for their caretakers, typically unique to individual sparklings, like a homing beacon. It’s for sparklings so they can be located if they get separated from their caretakers, or if they’re distressed. “Oh Primus.” Skywarp gasps. “That’s an awful sound.”“It’s supposed to be an awful sound, it’s meant to get the attention of their caretakers.” Starscream sighs. “If they keep up that racket, they’re going to wake up Megatron.” Thundercracker hisses, pushing himself up and letting the cold night air at them. Starscream opens his mouth to agree when a comm flashes across his HUD, the twitch from his trinemates tell him they got it too.'Come to the sparklings.’It’s from Knockout, evidently, their medic needs something. So despite the chill, the three of them crawl out from under the blankets and head to the sparklings. When they get there, they’re joined by Soundwave, Knockout is already there.“We need to do something about this!” The red bot announces. “They’re going to wake up the entire ship and none of our comrades are going to take that well!”“Soundwave: agrees.” Soundwave nods. “By the love of the Primus, the Primes, and the metal they were spawned from, I have had it!” Starscream snaps.He has. He’s tired, he’s had to deal with sparklings, he’s had to deal with Megatron, and he hasn’t gotten any recharge because he donated some blankets to the sparklings he had to deal with! All for the privilege of being slaughtered by the Autobots when they show up tomorrow.And listen, he’s usually down for anything that could result in the death of Megatron, but he prefers it when his death isn’t included in that. Can’t rule from the Allspark after all.“Soundwave, get those cassettes of yours to record their calls.” He orders. “Skywarp, how many bitlets could you safely warp at once?” “Uh, the ones that are still, probably three or four. If they squirm, one or two.” He shrugs. “Does this mean I get to hold Newsparks?”“Unfortunately. Could you teleport the cage?” He asks.“Totally, that’s the easy part.” Skywarp nods. “Alright, so here’s the plan.” Starscream declares, beckoning them all closer.~~~It’s six hours to dawn and none of the Autobots can sleep. Even the ones that aren’t going on the raid are up, finding things to keep them busy, shuffling around the cafeteria, or just staring at the ticking clock, waiting for action. Ratchet, even though he is going with them, hasn’t emerged from his medbay yet, he’s been busy preparing for any possible scenario that could come up. Optimus knows all of this because he’s been walking laps around the Arc, knowing that he can’t possibly get any sleep. His spark is tight in his chassis, something in the back of his processor is itching for him to go and get his bitlets back now. He can practically feel how scared and desperate his young are, through the bond that he can’t bring himself to pull at. On one hand, it may calm them, on the other, it may make them more distressed. On his walks, he’s seen the other caretakers cross his path, doing much the same thing. Jazz is walking like a bot on a mission, causing his fellow Autobots to jump out of his path lest they become the target of his anger. Prowl has a pile of datapads on his arms, one held in front of his face, muttering calculations aloud to himself while he walks, wings twitching. Elita-1 is walking too, fingers twitching at her sides like she’s strumming the strings of one of Blasters instruments. They’re all so on edge that when Red Alert activates the intercom, some of the speakers get blown out by some trigger happy bots. They’ll have a discussion about it later, he doesn’t care right now.“Commanders, report to surveillance!” Red Alert orders.Usually, his fellow Autobots would brush off the stress in Red Alerts voice given his general paranoia. Today, it just makes the tension in the Arc worse.Optimus hurried through the halls, leaving some of his paint on corners he took too tightly. Jazz is shoving his way through the door when he gets there, Ratchet, Ironhide, Ultra Magnus, and Prowl huddled close behind their head of Special Operations to get into the office. Behind Optimus, Elita-1 is shifting weight back and forth between her feet to pacify herself until they can push their way into Red Alert’s office.Inside, it’s a tight fit, the surveillance room isn’t meant to house this many bots at once. Jazz, ever the genius, has climbed up Ratchet to balance on his shoulder to free up some space, something Elita quickly does to Optimus so she can see better. Even with the two of them off the ground, it’s not comfortable. One of Ironhide’s heel guards is digging into his calf and Red Alert is pressed awkwardly close to his desk.“What do you need to show us, Red Alert?” Optimus asks.“There’s something in the woods!” He announces, voice wheezy because his abdomen is pressed too closely to the edge of the desk. “I saw them moving on the cameras, and there were weird noises!”“I swear to fuck, if it’s dogs again.” Jazz mutters.“They were coyotes last time!” Red Alert counters.“Which the humans said were a type of dog. Just show us the footage.” Ratchet sighs., flicking Jazz to get him to behave.“Right, of course.” Red Alert nods, pressing play on the video.At first, it’s hard to even tell that the video is playing because nothing changes. Just a dark field with still grass and tall trees, same as it is every night. Then, in the lowest left corner of the screen, a pair of red eyes peeks out from a bush. It doesn’t emerge, it doesn’t show itself, it just stays hidden in the bush, staring towards the Arc, and a familiar wail comes from the bush.“Weee-ou!”“Primus!” Prowl gasps.“That’s the twins!” Jazz breathes, turning on Ratchet’s shoulder, making him yelp, and launches himself out the door. He knocks Elita off Optimus’s shoulder on his way out, not that there’s enough space between him and Ironhide for her to fall to the floor. Instead, she’s awkwardly sprawled over Ironhide’s back.“Wait, it could be a trap!” Red Alert calls, trying to twist the chair he’s sitting in.“Then we’ll have hostages of our own.” Prowl growls, shoving his own way out the door.“Fuck’s sake.” Ratchet snarls, “This is going to be messy.”Usually, he’d agree, but the prospect of his bitlets being so close outweighs anything the logical section of his processor has to say about it. Optimus is running behind Prowl, Elita joining him quickly, Energon Axe drawn and ready to go.Outside the Arc, the air is cold and still. There’s no wind and with the small moon and absence of human-made street lights, it’s almost eerily dark. That doesn’t slow them down though, battle masks are pulled, weapons drawn, ready for a fight. They don’t bother with stealth as they trek to the field they saw on the cameras, looking for red eyes, ears pricked to hear-“Weee-ou!” They turn as one towards the bush, watching Ravage step out, mouth open to project the calls.“Weee-ou!”“Sonova-bitch!” Jazz curses, rushing at the felinoid.As soon as he starts moving, Ravage turns and runs, a black blur in the dark woods, only traceable by the recorded call of the twins. By all odds, they’re running right into a trap, but they don’t care. Ravage runs until she’s well out of reach of the Autobots, then pauses and plays the call again.“If you’ve hurt them.” Prowl mutters, preparing his blasters.On a dime, Ravage turns, leading them to the right at a ninety degree angle. Ironhide almost slips on the dewy grass but he rights himself quickly, all optics locked on the casseticon. From a tree, more red optics appear, accompanied by more calls.“Cheeer-up!”“Bumblebee!” Optimus calls.“Yeee-pip!”Buzzsaw and Laserbeak fly down from the tree, flying above Ravage, the three calls echoing through the woods. The last call is Smokescreen, though they can’t tell whether it’s Laserbeak or Buzzsaw that’s playing the sound. They chase the casseticons until they come across a small creek, when the three mechanimals slow down and hide behind a large crate.No, not a crate. A cage.Skywarp balancing on top, holding onto one of the bars. When he sees the Autobots, he waves and pulls at the bar, opening a section of the wall, and then disappears with a popping sounds.“What in the pits?” Ironhide asks.“Squee-ma!”“Arcee!” Elita-1 calls.“L-Lita!” Calls a wobbly voice from inside the cage.“Arcee!” Elita gasps, running towards the cage.The rest follow, sparks thundering, as little blue optics start glowing from inside the cage, the bigger sparklings tripping to run to their caretakers.Elita throws herself into the ground, catching Arcee up off the ground and holding her close to herself, pressing her forehead to Arcee’s. Ironhide keeps his weapons drawn, prepared for an attack while the rest of the caretakers are trying to get to their bits. The twins race towards Jazz, hands up, begging to be held. Jazz falls to the ground in a very similar way to Elita, knee plates digging into the cold dirt so he can pull his sparklings into his lap, kissing their heads and crying.“Oh my bits, my darling little bits.” Jazz cries, holding them as closely as he can. “Jazz is here, I’m here, you’re safe.”“Ja-ja.” Sideswipe whimpers, tucking himself under his sire’s chin. Optimus isn’t willing to wait for his sparklings to make their way out of the cage, not that Bumblebee likely can anyway. Instead, while Prowl is reaching in through the door to collect his two, Optimus rips several bars out of the way and gets tackled by Cliffjumper and Hot Rod, reaching in to scoop up Bumblebee.“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” Prowl demands, alternating between holding Smokescreen and Bluestreak to his chest and pushing them back so he can look them over.“Owie.” Bluestreak whines, twitching his wings.“We put nanite gel on that.” A voice calls from across the creek.Reality hits quickly, Eilita-1 stands with Arcee held to her chassis, pistol drawn and aimed at the Decepticons across the creek. Optimus shoves his bitlets out of his hold, stands up, and steps over them to shield them with his body, Energon Axe held across his chest. Prowl and Jazz have shoved themselves shoulder to shoulder, Prowl handing his two off to Jazz so he can aim both blasters at the hostile forces while using his own large frame to protect the twins and his own bits while Jazz shifts to stand behind him, holding them. Across the creek is the Elite Trine, Knockout, and Soundwave, who has Ravage at his feet and the birds on his shoulders. The Decepticons have their hands up, no weapons in sight, and they aren’t making any move to get closer.“His scratches, we put nanite gel on them. And I bandaged his wings myself.” Knockout calls.“We checked them, other than the scratched wings, they have no big injuries.” Starscream adds.“What kind of trick is this?” Ironhide demands, carefully stepping until he’s between all the caretakers with their bitlets and the Decepticons. “I warn you, we will not hold our fire just because our young are here.”“Decepticons: are not playing tricks.” Soundwave assures. “We could not keep sparklings from their familia any longer.”“And we like living!” Skywarp adds. “Didn’t really want to be on the receiving end of caretaker protective protocols.”Thundercracker flicks an arm and elbows his trinemate hard, making him stumble a few steps.“What my trinemate means to say is, taking the sparklings was a mistake on our part. Terribly sorry about that, here they are, no hard feelings?” Starscream says.“Yes, hard feelings!” Jazz snarls. “Jazz!” Prowl hisses. “Starscream caught Bluestreak, Soundwave stood up to Megatron when he was being rough with Bumblebee. I think they’re actually unhappy with their leader.”“That buckethead threatened to give my bitties to Shockwave!” Jazz hisses back.“And thanks to them,” Prowl returns, nodding to the Cons across the creek, “He can’t follow through.”That settles Jazz’s plating a bit but the saboteur is still grumbling, holding all four bitties. His twins are hanging off his back while Prowls two are held to his chassis. “Thank you.” Optimus replies carefully but sincerely. “For caring for our young.”“But please never come near them again.” Elita mutters. “No problem! Please don’t tell Megatron we did this.” Knockout says with a flourished bow. “You have our word.” Optimus nods. “Wonderful, then we will leave you to your happy familia.” Starscream nods, the group at large stepping backwards, hands still up. “Good dark-cycle.”“Good dark-cycle.” Ironhide returns. Cautiously, the Autobots lower their weapons, not fully disengaging them, but their guards are slightly lowered. The Cons step away, being very cautious to not do anything threatening.“Actually, wait!” Skywarp declares, spinning around abruptly and making the Autobots bring their weapons back up. “Can we have our blankets back?”Ironhide growls and Thundercracker turns to grab the black and purple seeker, waving apologetically at the angry bots across the creek.“We’ll come back for them tomorrow!” He says.The seekers walk as one, Starscream and Thundercracker bowing their heads towards Skywarp’s, their wings twitching. Clearly, the three of them are arguing, Skywarp even turns back and looks at their blankets with a pout. Were their sparklings not here, Optimus would call him back to get his blankets.Instead, the Autobots watch as the Decepticons disappear into the darkness, after which, Ratchet starts ushering them back to base. Optimus steps back, scooping his sparklings up and nuzzling them, pushing love and safety through the bond. Prowl stares at the darkness where the Decepticons disappeared, though he snaps out of it when Bluestreak chirps and then he’s pulling his bits back into his arms. Elita doesn’t holster her pistol but she lowers that arm, returning her focus to Arcee.“Come on now, it’s too cold for bitties out here.” Ratchet says, “Everyone to medbay, I don’t want any sparklings going to their berths without a proper check up.”They meet up with an impromptu back up squad before they’ve made it very far. Blaster, Inferno, Crosshairs, Drift, Hound, and Blurr find them, all of them heavily armed and ready for a fight. Which means when a blast of purple sparkles and a ‘vwop’ sound pops from the cage, Skywarp nearly gets blown to bits while shoving his blankets into his cockpit.“It’s too cold!” The seeker complains, vwop-ing away.They hear Starscream loudly scolding him in the distance, which does break some of the tension among the cavalry.“I swear, that bots got some screws missing.” Hound chuckles. “Not loose, completely gone.”“Skywarp or Screamer?” Blurr asks.“Both.” Hound says. “Yes yes, it’s a marvel they can still function. Can we get the bits back to base now?” Ratchet demands. “Come on now, move it!”Optimus finds himself in the middle of the group with Elita-1, Jazz, and Prowl, the rest of their team surrounding them to protect the sparklings from any surprise attacks. Evidently, someone has commed a friend back at base that the sparklings are here and safe, because Ratchet has to force the remaining Autobots to back up and disperse so he can get them to the medbay.“Back up! Back up! Get outta here!” The CMO snaps, shoving their fellow bots aside. “Move it!”He shoves everyone except the caretakers out, shutting the door so strongly that the ‘clunk’ noise echos through the medbay. Optimus chuckles, finding a berth to sit on, reclined so he can rest his bitlets comfortably on his chassis, the others doing much the same.“Atchet?” First Aid asks, the only bitlet that didn’t get snagged emerging from Ratchet’s office, rubbing sleep from his optics.“Everything is fine Aid, go back to berth.” Ratchet assures, voice gentle.“You’re back!” First Aid gasps, noticing his fellow sparklings. “I missed you!” “You can see them tomorrow.” Ratchet assures. The little red and white sparkling tilts his head, unbothered by Ratchet’s orders. Instead, he clocks in on the off-white bandages on Bluestreaks little wings and hurries to his drawer. Inside, he has his ‘medicine stuff’ which mostly consists of colourful plasters, lollipops, and some squeeze-activated ice-packs, something that Ratchet and Hoist set up when it became evident that First Aid had a passion for healing and needed something to do. Officially, he’s mostly a moral officer, but he takes it very seriously.“Blue’s got an owie.” First Aid announces, grabbing a handful of bandaids from his drawer.“He does, I’m just going to check that over.” Ratchet nods, seemingly having given up on sending First Aid back to bed.Prowl, despite knowing that it’s necessary, pulls his wings up and puffs up his plating when Ratchet pulls over the stool and cleaning kit. Sire protocols running on overtime and all.“Put your wings down Prowl, you know we can’t send him to berth without checking those scratches.” Ratchet orders.“Yes, I’m aware.” Prowl nods, making a concentrated effort to lower his wings and plating. “Do what you must.”First Aid, perhaps too young to really understand the turmoil in the older bots processor, climbed up onto the berth with the second in command and patted him comfortingly on the arm. Optimus laughed despite himself, the shaking of his chassis making Bumblebee and Cliffjumper, who had been trying to fall into recharge, squeak in protest. Working as quickly as he could while still maintaining quality of care, Ratchet unwrapped Bluestreaks wings, washed them clean with a bucket of solvent and a washcloth. Through it all, the murmuring of their fellow Autobots from the hallway hums around them, though he can also hear Ironhide trying to break them up.Ratchet works quickly, reapplying nanite gel and wrapping Bluestreak’s wings in fresh bandages, tying them off and moving onto Smokescreen. First Aid starts his job, decorating the plain white bandages with plasters shaped like Earth butterflies, or rectangle ones with rainbows, animals, and cartoon characters.“Okay Prime, your trio next.” Ratchet declares, warning him before he tries reaching for his bits.“Of course.” Optimus nods, even though he’s not looking forward to another bot touching his sparklings.It’s necessity only, Megatron held Bumblebee up by his ankle right in front of them on camera. Who knows what he did to their sparklings off camera? It’s safer for the young ones to be checked over and treated rather than taken straight to their berths with any injuries left to fester. At least Ratchet understands the complexities of Sire Protocols and he doesn’t try to pry any of his sparklings from his hold, he does the examinations from his lap.“This ankle is tweaked.” Ratchet murmurs, examining Bumblebee’s ankle. “Nothing serious but I’m going to wrap it, just to be safe.”“Thank you.” He nods, watching First Aid bounce excitedly at Ratchet’s side, eager for more decorating. The wrap is simple, it doesn’t even cover the whole pied, it just holds the ankle joint a little bit more stiff than it would usually be. Bumblebee barely even reacts to it, he just squirms until he’s comfortable again and continues trying to recharge. First Aid swoops in with his bandaids as soon as Ratchet secures the support in place, adding colourful stickers with as much care as he’s capable of giving, his little glossa sticking out in concentration. Ratchet checks over Hot Rod and Cliffjumper, carefully buffing out some dents and scuffs in their plating and setting Hot Rod’s finger back in its socket properly, given that it had been wrenched to a slant somehow. “Elita-1, I’m coming to you next.” Ratchet says, patting Optimus on the shoulder. “Jazz, I’ll check the twins last.”The two give murmurs of acknowledgement and Optimus goes back to his recline, watching the rest of his team. Prowl has assumed a position similar to the Prime, laid back against the berth with Smokescreen and Bluestreak held tightly to his chassis. Arcee seems fine, her check up goes over quickly enough, with only minor, mostly cosmetic dents to correct. The twins are more of a problem.“Now then, if I know you two, and I do, I’m guessing we have some denta and claw damage.” Ratchet says. “Sunstreaker, can I see your denta?”The yellow twin glowers at him, jaw firmly locked, holding his brother’s hand tightly. Jazz, wings flickering, wraps his arms tighter around them. “Jazz.” Ratchet says, oddly personable. “You know it’s better that I fix any damage now.”“I know.” The TIC sighs. “Come on Sunny, it’s just Ratchet, you know Ratchet.”“And I know your mouth must hurt.” Ratchet coaxes. “We’ve done this before, you know it feels better once I fix it.”Sunstreaker stares harder, like he’s trying to melt Ratchet with his mind. Their CMO, usually ready to scold and badger his patients into getting medical care, doesn’t push him. The two engage in a silent battle of wills, Jazz and Sideswipe on the sidelines. Finally, probably so tired he’ll agree to anything if it gets him to his berth, nods and opens his mouth.“That’s a good bit.” Ratchet praises, moving to check his denta. “Now, it’s a bit late for rust sticks, but I have plenty and you both can have some tomorrow.”“Promise?” Sideswipe asks, obviously speaking for both twins.“Promise. And have I ever broken a promise to you two?” Ratchet asks, removing some broken denta from Sunstreaker’s mouth. “All the bitties are getting rust sticks from me tomorrow.”That would usually be met with cheers but it seems all the other bits have hit their limit. They’re mostly cuddled into their caretakers and trying to rest. Sideswipe smiles though, patting his brother’s thigh, and snuggles closer to Jazz. Ratchet replaces the denta easily, it takes all of five kliks per denta, and then he’s pulling his tools back and handing Sunstreaker a denta-solvent solution to rinse his mouth out with.“Well done, thank you.” Ratchet says, holding a basin for Sunny to spit into. “You’re all done, Sides, let me see those claws.”“They’re not that bad.” The red twin mutters, though he holds out his hands for the medic.“When you go to medical school, you can decide that.” Ratchet teases, taking his hands. While his brother gets examined, Sunstreaker takes his turn cuddling with Jazz. The saboteur tucks his bitty under his chin, running his free hand up and down his back. Ratchet carefully buffs out any nicks in Sideswipes claws, replaces one that’s badly broken, and applies oil to the knuckles, Both hands are done withing half an hour.“There we go, all done.” Ratchet declares, releasing Sideswipes hands. “And I’m sure all sires are ready to get their bitties to their berths.”That gets a chuckle out of Jazz and Optimus, though Prowl and Elita are more serious, tending to their younglings.“Moonracer hasn’t stopped pinging me about her.” Elita murmurs, shifting Arcee in her arms, readying herself to shove their way through the crowd. “And Chromia told me she’s replaced all the bedding on my berth so it’s more comfortable.”“The perks of a tight familia.” Ratchet jokes. “You femmes are close.”“Stuck with all you mechs, we have to be.” Elita laughs. “Come on, let’s let Moonracer see you before she claws her way though the door.”“Mooney?” Arcee asks, blinking sleepily.“Yes, and Chromia.” Elita nods. “Come on now.”“She’s lucky she’s only got the one.” Optimus smiles, pulling himself up to stand. “I’ve got three, and mine are bigger.”“I’ll clear the crowd for you all.” Ratchet assures, lifting First Aid up to his shoulder. “I need to get this one to his berth anyway. With Ratchet leading the charge, all the caretakers stand by the doors ready to go. Their CMO throws the door open, the assembled bots immediately trying to crowd their way in for a look at the bitlets. Jazz and Prowl pull their wings up instantly, warning signs for everyone that it’s not wise to approach, while Optimus just uses his height advantage to lift his sparklings above the reach of most of his friends.It doesn’t end up being necessary though, Ratchet pulls out his infamous wrench and smacks Hound in the head with a loud CLANG when he tries to get to the caretakers.“Back up!” He yells, shoving Wheeljack and Perceptor back. “Move it, all of you have better places to be, get to them!”“Have you checked them for mics?” Red Alert demands, trying to wiggle his way through the crowd. “Are they really our sparklings? They might be clones sent to destabalise us!”Jazz tilts his head dangerously, not liking the way their security expert is talking about his bits.“They’re fine. Inferno! Come get your friend!” Ratchet shouts, pushing forwards.“They might have bombs planted in them to kill us all!” Red Alert continues, trying to pull his way out of Inferno’s grip. “We need to make sure we’re safe!”“Is she okay? Did they hurt her? How bad is it?” Moonracer asks, flitting around the front of the crowd, standing on her pied-tips to try and look over Ratchet’s shoulder. “I’ll kill them. Does she need fuel? I have some cubes!”To prove it, she holds up two handfuls of cubes on a plate, opening her mouth to say more when Chromia wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her back, leaving room for them to push past and head towards their berths. Ratchet leads the way while Ironhide brings up the rear. Even though they’ve been thoroughly scolded, that doesn’t deter any of the Autobots from trying to get close and check up on the sparklings.“Do you need anything? Fuel, blankets, high-grade, an oil beverage?” Blurr asks in a rush, nearly ducking under Ironhide's arm.“Not tonight my friend.” Optimus declines tiredly, resisting the instinct to engage his battle mask. “Thank you though.”“Alright listen up!” Ironhide orders, making the crowd go silent. “The next bot that tries to get at these sparklings is going to be cleaning out the oil traps for the next month! They need to rest, now scram!”The threat of having to clean the oil traps seemingly does the trick, because most of them disperse. Hound sticks around, though he keeps a more respectable distance, and Elita-1’s crew; Chromia, Firestar, Greenlight, and Lancer. That said, Optimus can understand their presence. Elita may be Arcee’s sire by bond but she certainly isn’t tending to her alone, the rest of her team contributes to Arcee’s care and it’s normal for them to be concerned. “I’ll be staying with Elita and Arcee tonight.” Chromia whispers to Ironhide, standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.“I assumed as much. Rest well, dearspark of mine.” Ironhide returns, kissing her back.And with that, the femmes disappear into Elita-1’s room, the door sliding shut behind them and the lock loudly clicking into place. Jazz and Prowl go next, barely calling goodbyes over their shoulders in their haste to get their young into the safety of their private quarters. Ironhide also leaves them, though he does so with strict instructions to call if they need any help.Finally alone in the safety of his chambers, Optimus sighs, settling his three sparklings on his berth to give them a proper look over. Bumblebee whines and chirps at the loss of contact but Optimus is quick to rumble his engine, assuring his sparkling that he’s still there.“My bitties, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He says, looking for any marks or signs of damage. “We were coming for you, I promise we were coming for you.”“We know.” Hot Rod, the only one still semi-awake, assures. “I knew you wouldn't leave us.”“Never.” He promises, kissing each bit on the head. “We would never, ever leave you.”Cliffjumper blinks and Optimus can feel the relief he feels through their spark bond. He adjusts the blankets, curling himself around them, one arm reached around to keep them close, the other laying over them like a blanket.“Rest, my precious creations.” He urges. “I will be here when you wake up.”~~~Elita heaves a deep vent of relief when Firestar locks the door, keeping the rest of the Arc out. Arcee has tucked herself right against her neck, hiding from the rest of the Autobots, field heavy with exhaustion. “Are you alright, little one?” Chromia asks, grabbing a clean blanket to wrap around the femmeling.“Yeah. That was scary.” Arcee nods, voice shaky. “And I-I tried to be br-brave like you, but it was scary.”Her crew coos and hums at that, pressing closer together, all of them pushing safety and protection through their fields. “You’re so brave, we are so proud of you.” Elita praises. “So strong.” Firestar adds.“And smart!” Moonracer nods, wiggling eagerly and making Lancer elbow her. “We were so worried about you, we’re so glad you’re safe. Do you need fuel? I have fuel!”“Let her breathe, Mooney.” Greenlight instructs. “She’s probably tired.”“And Ratchet scanned her, her tanks are at three-quarters.” Elita-1 adds. “I think all she needs now is recharge.”Arcee nods, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. Her optics are dull and flickering, the youngling lacking the energy to keep them online.“Best get her to berth then.” Greenlight smiles. “I replaced your bedding.” Chromia says, nudging her crew towards the berth.Despite having their own rooms, the femmes are used to sleeping close together. Being stuck alone on Cybertron for so long, it had been the practical thing to do, both for safety and warmth. Now, even though they were all eager to get back to having their own space, they did still co-sleep when they were stressed. For example, when the last femme sparkling in known existence had just been returned after being kidnapped. Elita-1 settled in first, curling herself around Arcee, the other femmes climbing in and getting comfortable around them. Firestar ends up pressed against the wall, wrapping her arms around Greenlight so she doesn’t slip between the berth and the wall. Chromia lays at the edge of the berth, her blaster on the ground so she can grab it quickly, just in case. Moonracer squirms her way between Chromia and Elita, curled in an awkward position so she can rest her chin on Elita’s waist, so she can check in on Arcee.“Mooney, if you kick me, I’m taking off your legs at the knees.” Chromia warns.“I’m not gonna kick.” Moonracer mumbles, pulling a blanket over herself.“You always say that.” Greenlight and Firestar say together.“You guys are so mean.” Moonracer pouts.“Just recharge.” Elita-1 orders.~~~Prowl can’t help but flop down on his berth the moment the door is closed, bracing his elbows so he doesn’t squish Smokescreen and Bluestreak. Smokescreen grips at his shoulder, trying to pull his sire even closer to him, to rest more of his weight on him. Bluestreak babbles sleepily, patting Prowl on the cheek and yawning.“Are you two alright?” He asks, touching his chevron to theirs. “Mhmm.” Smokescreen hums, squirming to get his doorwings more comfortable. “Tired.”“I know sweetling, I know.” He soothes, turning and shifting until he’s on his side, Smokescreen resting with his head pressed against his chassis while Bluestreak curled up near his head, wrapped in Prowl’s arm. “Rest now, my little ones, I will protect you.”“Sire.” Bluestreak chirps, grabbing onto his hand.“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He promises.~~~As soon as they’re in the berthroom, Sideswipe is squirming to be put down and Jazz drops to his knees to oblige. The red twin shakes out his fingers, wiping them on a towel to get some excess oil and dust off them. Sunstreaker yawns widely, rubbing at his optics and shuffling towards his brother.“Shockwave didn’t touch either of you, did he?” He asks, spark in his throat.“No.” Sunstreaker says, shaking his head. That settles his nerves a little, though he’s certain that the image of his twins, strapped down to a table with that psychopath standing over them is going to haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. There aren’t a lot of Decepticons Jazz would actually say he’s scared of, but Shockwave is one of them. Pits, every bot in their right mind is scared of Shockwave, knowing the things he’s done. The monstrous amalgamations he’d made back on Cybertron out of various mechanimals, the Empty Shells of bots wandering the wastelands before they’d been forced to abandon Cybertron, trying to rip the spark out of any mech or femme they came across, those weren’t built out of curiosity. And those are just the ones they know about, there is no doubt in his processor that there are more, even worse experiments of his that they just haven’t found out about yet.“Jazz.” Sideswipe whines, breaking him out of his thoughts.“Yes sweetspark?” He asks, pulling Sideswipe back into his arms.“Can we recharge?” he asks. “With you?”“Of course! Of course you may.” He replies, nuzzling his helm against his bitlet. The twins aren’t exactly the most physically affectionate of the sparklings. It partially comes from their early life, when physical contact meant pain and the grown mechs in their lives used fear and pain to ‘train’ them. It’s also just how Sunstreaker is, Sideswipe is more open to affection, physical or otherwise. Sunstreaker’s more picky, when he wants a hug, he’ll let you know, if not, don’t touch him. “Sunstreaker, do you want me to set up the trundle for you?” Jazz asks.The young artist looks up at him, a look of intense contemplation on his face. Then, he shakes his head.“May I be in your berth too?” He asks.Jazz smiles, opening an arm to invite Sunny into the hug. Sides chirps at his brother, ushering him to hurry up until they’re both in Jazz’s arms, the three of them holding each other close. “Come on now.” He instructs, standing with the bits in his arms. “It’s late.”Sunstreaker yawns, offlining his optics and tipping his face against Jazz’s shoulder. The saboteur worms his way under the cover, Sunstreaker on his left side, Sideswipe on his right, one twin under each arm, the younglings holding hands over his chassis. “I love you two.” He whispers. “We were on our way, I will always come for you. No matter where you are, I will come for you.”“Love you too, Ja.” Sideswipe smiles.Sunstreaker just hums, ready for recharge. “Get some rest, my darlings. I’ll take care of you both.” He instructs, kissing them both.~~~“I cannot believe you went back for the blankets!” Starscream hisses, wrapping the blaster wound in gauze. “We went and gave them their sparklings back so they wouldn’t come and kill us, but you wanted them to kill you anyway?”“It’s so cold on this planet!” Skywarp whines.“You’re an idiot.” He snaps.“And you’re mean.” Skywarp replies.The trine leader rolls his optics, tying off the bandages, shoving his trinemate away. The purple and black seeker sticks out his glossa, the way they’ve seen the humans do. Childish. “Ugh, the blankets smell like sparklings.” Thundercracker complains.“That’s because the sparklings were sleeping on it, dumbaft.” Starscream sighs.“I liked the sparklings, they were cute.” Skywarp coos, crawling under the covers. “Do you think we could find a sparkling? I want a sparkling.”“No!” Thundercracker and Starscream reply at once.“Warp, this scrapheap can’t even sustain reasonable lighting. You think it’s a decent place for a sparkling?” Thundercracker asks.“Well, maybe when we win the war and get back to Cybertron, we can find a sparkling!” Skywarp revises. “A little seeker! We can teach them to fly!”“Sure.” Starscream agrees, shoving him aside so he can get under the covers too. “Whatever you want.”“Hey, how are we going to explain to Megatron that the sparklings are gone?” Thundercracker asks.“I’m hoping he’s dumb enough that when he can’t see them, he’ll forget they exist.” Starscream responds.“What if, we get up super early tomorrow, get some scrap from the human settlement, make some decoys that /look/ like sparklings, and stick them in a cage?” Skywarp suggests. “Then he won’t notice.”“He’s gonna kill us.” Thundercracker sighs. “Star, what’s our plan?”“Find a way to kill him.” He shrugs. And that needs to move up on his to-do list, he’d been hoping that his leader's own stupidity would eventually lead to his demise with minimal input from Starscream, but it seems he’s going to need a more hands on approach. The leader of the Decepticons isn’t a tactician, nor is he burdened like an overactive processor, it had been reasonable to assume that he’d paint himself into a corner all on his own. He hadn’t considered that he might end up in that corner too, through Megatron’s stupidity.Perhaps it’s time to consider the advantages of poison, might speed the process along.