HOME | DD

Description
Sunstreaker took a huge gulp from his energon cube and pounded it back onto the table before continuing his story. “…So then Skywarp tries to shake me off…”

“…He did shake you off, bro…”

“…shh, I’m telling the story.  So Skywarp is bucking around, trying to get me to fall…”

“…which you did, by the way…”

“…I said shut it, Sideswipe! Anyway, and then I, uh…”

“…started falling…”

Sunstreaker punched his brother’s shoulder.  “You slagger, let me say it!  And then I started falling…aw, slag!” he shouted while giving Sideswipe a dirty look.  “You messed it up!”

The other mechs at the table burst out laughing as Sideswipe grinned evilly at his sunflower-yellow twin.  Sunstreaker pouted and crossed his arms, obviously too frustrated to go on with the story.  Sideswipe chuckled and slapped his brother’s back affectionately.  Sunstreaker grunted, but the edges of his mouth begin to curl up into a smile.  After several million years together, he should have been able to notice when his twin was setting him up to ruin his tale of bravado and heroics during jet judo. He grabbed the energon cube again and took another gulp as Sideswipe began to retell his own version of the battle.

At the energon dispenser, Backburn was doing his best to keep from paying attention to the mechs at the circular table.  The generous laughter was impossible to ignore though.  He turned around to see Hound nearly fall out of his seat while Sideswipe explained how Skywarp had gone into a nosedive so that he could finish off the falling yellow Lamborghini, only to ram into an unsuspecting Starscream on the way down.  Neither of the two Seekers had been seen for the rest of the battle, as the Decepticon air commander was too busy trying to shoot his wing mate down. Bluestreak hooted, Jazz snickered, and Trailbreaker’s chassis shook up and down as laughter rumbled throughout his entire body.

‘…It’s not fair.’

Backburn filled up his cube and turned to take it somewhere else in the rec room, someplace where he wouldn’t have to listen to the resident twins go on about how their similar and complimenting skills could bring down three of Cybertron’s best seekers. He really didn’t care to listen, not now anyway.  Before he could get past the occupied table though, Bluestreak spotted him and waved to his comrade.

“Hey, Backburn!  Come over here and sit with us!”

Backburn stopped and quickly turned his grimace into the most polite smile he could muster.  “Nah, thanks anyway.  I’ve got stuff on my mind right now…”

“Yeah, Bluestreak, don’t you know what ‘Burn’s going through right now?” Sideswipe interrupted.  “He just got dumped by a Ferrari!  A fragging-hot Ferrari!  The damn thing broke up with him for an ugly-ass human!” he said while laughing. Sunstreaker snickered at his brother’s use of curse words; the twins had taken a liking to the range of colorful human obscenities and were slowly adding them into their common language protocols.

Backburn somehow managed to keep up the fake smile, even though he was inwardly seething.  “Oh c’mon, like you wouldn’t have gone after a piece of that slag!” he said to Sideswipe.

“Frag yeah, he would!” Sunstreaker exclaimed.  “Did I ever tell you guys about the time Sideswipe saw another red Lamborghini in California?  He almost blew a gasket from chasing after it so fast!”

“I remember that!” said Jazz.  “Except Sideswipe didn’t have the sense to stop speaking in English! You should have seen Optimus trying to explain to the human media about what a sideways hot-oil exchange was!” Beside him, Trailbreaker almost choked on his energon, and Hound really did fall out of his chair in a fit of giggles.    Sideswipe merely stuck his glossa out the side of his mouth.

“I’ve got no regrets there.  Damn, you should have seen her! And I do mean it was a ‘her’, it couldn’t have been anything else but a ‘her’!”

“Except if she was an ‘it’,” Sunstreaker rumbled. “And knowing you, an ‘it’ would mean that the slagging thing had too many parts, not parts missing!”

Sideswipe’s head snapped around as he glared at his brother, and the whole table roared in laughter again.  Forgotten, Backburn watched the older mechs enjoying themselves.  He unconsciously gripped his energon cube a little harder and gritted his dentals when he saw a knowing glance exchanged between the twins before they went back to their drinks.

‘Alright, that’s it.’

The dark red Autobot stalked over to the table to take a seat with the still-chuckling mechs.  There was an empty chair beside Bluestreak and two more by Trailbreaker, but instead of taking one of those he grabbed a loose chair from another table and shoved it in between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker before quickly sitting down in it.  The two mechs instantly stopped laughing and gave surprised stares down at their smaller comrade, who was actively ignoring them and looking straight ahead.  Sunstreaker was the first to speak.

“Eh, Backburn...just what the frag do you think you’re doing?”

“Bluestreak asked me to sit with you guys, so I am,” Backburn calmly replied while taking a sip from his energon.  Said gunner glanced up nervously as Sunstreaker eyed him from the corner of his optic.

“Y-yeah, I did, but hey, Backburn, there’s more room over here with me or Trailbreaker, you didn’t have to pull up another chair…”

“I’m comfortable where I am, Blue, thanks,” Backburn said sharply before taking another sip.  Not amused at all by his stubbornness, both twins narrowed their optics darkly.  Sideswipe leaned back in his chair as if relaxing, but his engine rumbled in a similar way to low growl.  Sunstreaker moved his head closer to Backburn’s and put a heavy hand on his neck guard.

“Well, we’re not.  So why don’t you get up before I help you find another seat?” he said, gripping the bar to emphasize his point.  Backburn winced as the pressure ran along the bar and down to his shoulders, but glared back at Sunstreaker. His shoulders tensed up; otherwise he kept the rest of his body still as if nothing was wrong.

“Why don’t you and your brother just shove it up your tailpipes, glitch-head?” he asked slowly.

By now, all humor from the table’s occupants was gone.  The mechs stared worriedly at their younger comrade who was challenging two of the most temperamental and dangerous Autobots on the Ark.  Jazz, the only officer present, rose from his seat at the far end of the table.

“’Burn,” he started, “how about you an' me finish up and go…”

“Take that back, you little aft-face!” Sunstreaker snarled dangerously while giving a violent shake to the younger mech.  Sideswipe had slowly gotten up out of his chair to stand just behind Backburn and sneered down at him.  Both of the twin’s servos whirled; they were ready for a fight.

Backburn glanced between them as if finally considering his options.  He vented some air before looking back up at Sunstreaker.  “Go frag yourself, aft-wipe.”

Sunstreaker’s optic twitched, and that was the only warning Backburn got before a tug on his neck guard pulled him up straight and the yellow mech’s free hand punched him in the abdomen.  Before he could react he was thrown backwards and out of his chair, energon cube flying away and forgotten.  Sideswipe caught him and pulled him into a half-nelson while giving him several punches to the head.  The other mechs jumped up at this, knocking their own chairs aside.

“Hey, stop it!” Hound shouted, but Sunstreaker kicked his chair towards the scout, impeding the closest mech from stopping the fight.  Backburn struggled and stomped on Sideswipe’s foot, but the red Lamborghini merely grunted and readjusted his hold on so that his own arms came up under Backburn’s armpits and held his hands out to either side.  He rammed his knee into the younger mech’s back to put some space between them before the Saturn could stomp on him again.  Backburn gasped and slouched backwards but continued to squirm around.

“Fragger!” Sideswipe shouted in his audio, “Now you’re gonna see what happens to anyone who screws with us!”

Sunstreaker was quickly approaching them with his fist raised.  Backburn saw him coming and struggled even more desperately; Sideswipe kneed him again to keep him off balance.  Bluestreak was heading towards them from the side, but Sunstreaker got to his brother first.   A powerful yellow fist came flying at his face, making Backburn flinch, but just before it made impact something shimmered between them.  As soon as he made contact with it, Sunstreaker reeled backwards and fell on his aft.

Trailbreaker kept his force field up while somebody shoved Sideswipe away from the younger mech and someone else grabbed his shoulders.  Backburn suddenly found himself being half-led, half-dragged out of the rec room by Jazz, who had his right arm casually draped over his back but had a firm hold on his neck guard with the other hand.  He looked back to see Hound and Bluestreak standing between Sideswipe and the door, blocking the red Lamborghini from leaving and trying to convince him to calm down.  Sideswipe pushed away from Hound’s restraining hand and pointed at the duo heading into the hall.

“Don’t think you can escape from me, you little glitch-mouse!” he shouted.

At that, something flared up within Backburn that he couldn’t understand.  He tried to turn around and charge at Sideswipe, but Jazz kept a firm grip on him and forced him to keep marching forward.

“Easy there, ‘Burn, easy. Just keep walking,” Jazz said coolly.  He pulled his comrade around a corner once they reached an intersection so that the two furious mechs wouldn’t be able to see each other, although they could still just hear Sunstreaker’s venomous cursing from down the hall.  Backburn muttered and tried to pull away, but Jazz’s right hand just squeezed his shoulder tighter as they walked.  The saboteur began to hum a light and easy tune; it only frustrated the young Autobot further at first, but he eventually began to calm down and stopped struggling, resigning himself to be led away.

‘Great. Just great.  He’s gonna bring me down to the brig, I’ll spend the night down there and then have to explain myself to Prowl in the morning.  Just fragging perfect,’ he thought bitterly while dropping his head forward.  His shoulders slouched down as low as the officer’s restraining hands would let them go. Jazz seemed to notice this and loosened his grip on him a little.  The two of them kept walking without saying a word.  They were passed by a few mechs that looked at the duo questioningly, but didn’t stop to chat.  Jazz continued humming, his body becoming less tense and back to its usual rhythmical flow.

When Backburn finally looked up and around him, he realized that they were not heading down any corridor that would lead to the brig.  The hallway they were in now branched off between the barracks and the weapons room, and since most of the Autobots were on duty, no one else was around in this sector.  Jazz finally stopped and let go of Backburn’s neck guard, but kept his arm draped across his comrade’s back.

“So…ya gonna tell me what happened back there?” the saboteur said without any pretenses.  Backburn turned his head away.

“I dunno.”

“I’m pretty sure ya do.”

“It’s none of your fragging business!” he snapped.

“’Burn, when a mech starts a fight with two of our best front-liners, it’s my job to make it my business.” Jazz casually cocked his head to the side as he looked curiously at Backburn. “This wouldn’t have to do with that whole ‘gang’ thing back on Cybertron, would it?”

Alarmed, Backburn snapped his optics back to Jazz. “…How the frag did you know…”

“Command element.  Remember?” Jazz smiled at him, but not in a mocking way.  “I gotta know these things.”

“Who else…”

“Just me, Prowl, Ironhide an’ Optimus.  Figured you didn’t want it spreading around, an’ I guess we were right.”

Backburn stared at him worriedly.  Jazz seemed to be telling him the truth. He sighed and dropped his head down again. “…Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I guess…I guess it kinda has to do with that.”

“Bet you were close to them.  Like brothers.”

Backburn narrowed his optics.  He did not being read like an open book that easily.  “Look, Jazz, am I in trouble?”

“Probably.”

“Then can I at least go back to my room, if I’m not going to the brig?”

“Sure.”  Jazz gave the younger mech a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.  “Hear me out for a sec, though.  Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, they’re twins, an’ they’ve always been together since they were sparked.  They’ve got a special bond, an’ ya’re not gonna be able to get as close to them as they are to each other.  I’m sorry, ‘Burn, but it just doesn’t work like that.”

Backburn’s air intakes huffed slowly.  “It’s just…I see them together and…I miss...” He suddenly tensed up again and pulled away from Jazz. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he said slowly, but it was obvious that his voice was shaking.

Jazz nodded. “Okay.” He watched as Backburn jogged away and down the corridor towards his room, and his sensitive audios didn’t miss the sound of a held-back sob as the dark red mech turned at a corner.  The saboteur sighed to himself and thought for a minute, his arms crossed over his chestplate.  After a moment he snapped his fingers together as he came up with an idea and opened up a comm channel.

:Jazz to Perceptor:

erceptor here.  What can I do for you, Jazz?:

:Ya still doing that aquatic research thing tomorrow?:

:That I am.:

Jazz grinned. :Great! I have the perfect assistant for ya…:

:P (Lick) — Description
Sunstreaker took a huge gulp from his energon cube and pounded it back onto the table before continuing his story. “…So then Skywarp tries to shake me off…”

“…He did shake you off, bro…”

“…shh, I’m telling the story.  So Skywarp is bucking around, trying to get me to fall…”

“…which you did, by the way…”

“…I said shut it, Sideswipe! Anyway, and then I, uh…”

“…started falling…”

Sunstreaker punched his brother’s shoulder.  “You slagger, let me say it!  And then I started falling…aw, slag!” he shouted while giving Sideswipe a dirty look.  “You messed it up!”

The other mechs at the table burst out laughing as Sideswipe grinned evilly at his sunflower-yellow twin.  Sunstreaker pouted and crossed his arms, obviously too frustrated to go on with the story.  Sideswipe chuckled and slapped his brother’s back affectionately.  Sunstreaker grunted, but the edges of his mouth begin to curl up into a smile.  After several million years together, he should have been able to notice when his twin was setting him up to ruin his tale of bravado and heroics during jet judo. He grabbed the energon cube again and took another gulp as Sideswipe began to retell his own version of the battle.

At the energon dispenser, Backburn was doing his best to keep from paying attention to the mechs at the circular table.  The generous laughter was impossible to ignore though.  He turned around to see Hound nearly fall out of his seat while Sideswipe explained how Skywarp had gone into a nosedive so that he could finish off the falling yellow Lamborghini, only to ram into an unsuspecting Starscream on the way down.  Neither of the two Seekers had been seen for the rest of the battle, as the Decepticon air commander was too busy trying to shoot his wing mate down. Bluestreak hooted, Jazz snickered, and Trailbreaker’s chassis shook up and down as laughter rumbled throughout his entire body.

‘…It’s not fair.’

Backburn filled up his cube and turned to take it somewhere else in the rec room, someplace where he wouldn’t have to listen to the resident twins go on about how their similar and complimenting skills could bring down three of Cybertron’s best seekers. He really didn’t care to listen, not now anyway.  Before he could get past the occupied table though, Bluestreak spotted him and waved to his comrade.

“Hey, Backburn!  Come over here and sit with us!”

Backburn stopped and quickly turned his grimace into the most polite smile he could muster.  “Nah, thanks anyway.  I’ve got stuff on my mind right now…”

“Yeah, Bluestreak, don’t you know what ‘Burn’s going through right now?” Sideswipe interrupted.  “He just got dumped by a Ferrari!  A fragging-hot Ferrari!  The damn thing broke up with him for an ugly-ass human!” he said while laughing. Sunstreaker snickered at his brother’s use of curse words; the twins had taken a liking to the range of colorful human obscenities and were slowly adding them into their common language protocols.

Backburn somehow managed to keep up the fake smile, even though he was inwardly seething.  “Oh c’mon, like you wouldn’t have gone after a piece of that slag!” he said to Sideswipe.

“Frag yeah, he would!” Sunstreaker exclaimed.  “Did I ever tell you guys about the time Sideswipe saw another red Lamborghini in California?  He almost blew a gasket from chasing after it so fast!”

“I remember that!” said Jazz.  “Except Sideswipe didn’t have the sense to stop speaking in English! You should have seen Optimus trying to explain to the human media about what a sideways hot-oil exchange was!” Beside him, Trailbreaker almost choked on his energon, and Hound really did fall out of his chair in a fit of giggles.    Sideswipe merely stuck his glossa out the side of his mouth.

“I’ve got no regrets there.  Damn, you should have seen her! And I do mean it was a ‘her’, it couldn’t have been anything else but a ‘her’!”

“Except if she was an ‘it’,” Sunstreaker rumbled. “And knowing you, an ‘it’ would mean that the slagging thing had too many parts, not parts missing!”

Sideswipe’s head snapped around as he glared at his brother, and the whole table roared in laughter again.  Forgotten, Backburn watched the older mechs enjoying themselves.  He unconsciously gripped his energon cube a little harder and gritted his dentals when he saw a knowing glance exchanged between the twins before they went back to their drinks.

‘Alright, that’s it.’

The dark red Autobot stalked over to the table to take a seat with the still-chuckling mechs.  There was an empty chair beside Bluestreak and two more by Trailbreaker, but instead of taking one of those he grabbed a loose chair from another table and shoved it in between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker before quickly sitting down in it.  The two mechs instantly stopped laughing and gave surprised stares down at their smaller comrade, who was actively ignoring them and looking straight ahead.  Sunstreaker was the first to speak.

“Eh, Backburn...just what the frag do you think you’re doing?”

“Bluestreak asked me to sit with you guys, so I am,” Backburn calmly replied while taking a sip from his energon.  Said gunner glanced up nervously as Sunstreaker eyed him from the corner of his optic.

“Y-yeah, I did, but hey, Backburn, there’s more room over here with me or Trailbreaker, you didn’t have to pull up another chair…”

“I’m comfortable where I am, Blue, thanks,” Backburn said sharply before taking another sip.  Not amused at all by his stubbornness, both twins narrowed their optics darkly.  Sideswipe leaned back in his chair as if relaxing, but his engine rumbled in a similar way to low growl.  Sunstreaker moved his head closer to Backburn’s and put a heavy hand on his neck guard.

“Well, we’re not.  So why don’t you get up before I help you find another seat?” he said, gripping the bar to emphasize his point.  Backburn winced as the pressure ran along the bar and down to his shoulders, but glared back at Sunstreaker. His shoulders tensed up; otherwise he kept the rest of his body still as if nothing was wrong.

“Why don’t you and your brother just shove it up your tailpipes, glitch-head?” he asked slowly.

By now, all humor from the table’s occupants was gone.  The mechs stared worriedly at their younger comrade who was challenging two of the most temperamental and dangerous Autobots on the Ark.  Jazz, the only officer present, rose from his seat at the far end of the table.

“’Burn,” he started, “how about you an' me finish up and go…”

“Take that back, you little aft-face!” Sunstreaker snarled dangerously while giving a violent shake to the younger mech.  Sideswipe had slowly gotten up out of his chair to stand just behind Backburn and sneered down at him.  Both of the twin’s servos whirled; they were ready for a fight.

Backburn glanced between them as if finally considering his options.  He vented some air before looking back up at Sunstreaker.  “Go frag yourself, aft-wipe.”

Sunstreaker’s optic twitched, and that was the only warning Backburn got before a tug on his neck guard pulled him up straight and the yellow mech’s free hand punched him in the abdomen.  Before he could react he was thrown backwards and out of his chair, energon cube flying away and forgotten.  Sideswipe caught him and pulled him into a half-nelson while giving him several punches to the head.  The other mechs jumped up at this, knocking their own chairs aside.

“Hey, stop it!” Hound shouted, but Sunstreaker kicked his chair towards the scout, impeding the closest mech from stopping the fight.  Backburn struggled and stomped on Sideswipe’s foot, but the red Lamborghini merely grunted and readjusted his hold on so that his own arms came up under Backburn’s armpits and held his hands out to either side.  He rammed his knee into the younger mech’s back to put some space between them before the Saturn could stomp on him again.  Backburn gasped and slouched backwards but continued to squirm around.

“Fragger!” Sideswipe shouted in his audio, “Now you’re gonna see what happens to anyone who screws with us!”

Sunstreaker was quickly approaching them with his fist raised.  Backburn saw him coming and struggled even more desperately; Sideswipe kneed him again to keep him off balance.  Bluestreak was heading towards them from the side, but Sunstreaker got to his brother first.   A powerful yellow fist came flying at his face, making Backburn flinch, but just before it made impact something shimmered between them.  As soon as he made contact with it, Sunstreaker reeled backwards and fell on his aft.

Trailbreaker kept his force field up while somebody shoved Sideswipe away from the younger mech and someone else grabbed his shoulders.  Backburn suddenly found himself being half-led, half-dragged out of the rec room by Jazz, who had his right arm casually draped over his back but had a firm hold on his neck guard with the other hand.  He looked back to see Hound and Bluestreak standing between Sideswipe and the door, blocking the red Lamborghini from leaving and trying to convince him to calm down.  Sideswipe pushed away from Hound’s restraining hand and pointed at the duo heading into the hall.

“Don’t think you can escape from me, you little glitch-mouse!” he shouted.

At that, something flared up within Backburn that he couldn’t understand.  He tried to turn around and charge at Sideswipe, but Jazz kept a firm grip on him and forced him to keep marching forward.

“Easy there, ‘Burn, easy. Just keep walking,” Jazz said coolly.  He pulled his comrade around a corner once they reached an intersection so that the two furious mechs wouldn’t be able to see each other, although they could still just hear Sunstreaker’s venomous cursing from down the hall.  Backburn muttered and tried to pull away, but Jazz’s right hand just squeezed his shoulder tighter as they walked.  The saboteur began to hum a light and easy tune; it only frustrated the young Autobot further at first, but he eventually began to calm down and stopped struggling, resigning himself to be led away.

‘Great. Just great.  He’s gonna bring me down to the brig, I’ll spend the night down there and then have to explain myself to Prowl in the morning.  Just fragging perfect,’ he thought bitterly while dropping his head forward.  His shoulders slouched down as low as the officer’s restraining hands would let them go. Jazz seemed to notice this and loosened his grip on him a little.  The two of them kept walking without saying a word.  They were passed by a few mechs that looked at the duo questioningly, but didn’t stop to chat.  Jazz continued humming, his body becoming less tense and back to its usual rhythmical flow.

When Backburn finally looked up and around him, he realized that they were not heading down any corridor that would lead to the brig.  The hallway they were in now branched off between the barracks and the weapons room, and since most of the Autobots were on duty, no one else was around in this sector.  Jazz finally stopped and let go of Backburn’s neck guard, but kept his arm draped across his comrade’s back.

“So…ya gonna tell me what happened back there?” the saboteur said without any pretenses.  Backburn turned his head away.

“I dunno.”

“I’m pretty sure ya do.”

“It’s none of your fragging business!” he snapped.

“’Burn, when a mech starts a fight with two of our best front-liners, it’s my job to make it my business.” Jazz casually cocked his head to the side as he looked curiously at Backburn. “This wouldn’t have to do with that whole ‘gang’ thing back on Cybertron, would it?”

Alarmed, Backburn snapped his optics back to Jazz. “…How the frag did you know…”

“Command element.  Remember?” Jazz smiled at him, but not in a mocking way.  “I gotta know these things.”

“Who else…”

“Just me, Prowl, Ironhide an’ Optimus.  Figured you didn’t want it spreading around, an’ I guess we were right.”

Backburn stared at him worriedly.  Jazz seemed to be telling him the truth. He sighed and dropped his head down again. “…Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I guess…I guess it kinda has to do with that.”

“Bet you were close to them.  Like brothers.”

Backburn narrowed his optics.  He did not being read like an open book that easily.  “Look, Jazz, am I in trouble?”

“Probably.”

“Then can I at least go back to my room, if I’m not going to the brig?”

“Sure.”  Jazz gave the younger mech a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.  “Hear me out for a sec, though.  Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, they’re twins, an’ they’ve always been together since they were sparked.  They’ve got a special bond, an’ ya’re not gonna be able to get as close to them as they are to each other.  I’m sorry, ‘Burn, but it just doesn’t work like that.”

Backburn’s air intakes huffed slowly.  “It’s just…I see them together and…I miss...” He suddenly tensed up again and pulled away from Jazz. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he said slowly, but it was obvious that his voice was shaking.

Jazz nodded. “Okay.” He watched as Backburn jogged away and down the corridor towards his room, and his sensitive audios didn’t miss the sound of a held-back sob as the dark red mech turned at a corner.  The saboteur sighed to himself and thought for a minute, his arms crossed over his chestplate.  After a moment he snapped his fingers together as he came up with an idea and opened up a comm channel.

:Jazz to Perceptor:

erceptor here.  What can I do for you, Jazz?:

:Ya still doing that aquatic research thing tomorrow?:

:That I am.:

Jazz grinned. :Great! I have the perfect assistant for ya…: