A Chaotic Neutral

Title: Insufficient Funds
Series: The Prime’s Consorts
Characters: Blaster, Steeljaw
Rated: K+
Description: In the wake of Soundwave’s departure and subsequent absence, Blaster worries.

Blaster is running out of money.

Worse, Blaster is running out of money and his best friend has let himself be sold to the new Prime all for the sake of the Sanctuary. Blaster can’t even do him the courtesy of not running it to the ground in Soundwave’s absence. Soundwave has sacrificed everything, and still, Blaster is running out of money.

Everything costs creds these days. It’s not just the energon. It’s the parts, the lubricants, the supplies. It’s bribing guards to look the other way when they’re sneaking refugees over borders. It’s paying medics for much needed repairs. It’s paying for new identities, and refitting frames so that they are unrecognizable. It’s paying for fares to colonies too far from Cybertron for the wealthy to reach.

It’s a lot of things that Blaster simply doesn’t have the creds to cover. His kin suffer, and Blaster can only do triage. Save this one over that one because it’s cheaper or easier or… or…

His tank churns.

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Title: The Sanctuary
Universe: Consortium, Pre-The Prime’s Consorts
Characters: Soundwave, Blaster, Rewind
Rated: T
Description: Blaster’s doing all he can to keep the lights on when Soundwave comes to him with an unfortunate truth.

There’s never enough of anything.

Blaster gnaws on his bottom lip as he reviews their inventory, the available funds in their secret account, and their current population. There’s not enough credits, there aren’t enough fuel filters, and there’s certainly not enough energon.

He has to find a way to increase their income. He can’t force Soundwave any further into debt than he already is. It’s not fair to him.

The light rap of knuckles on the door frame makes him look up to see Rewind loitering, a datapad clutched to his chest. Blaster can already tell from their bond he’s not going to like what Rewind has to say.

“Another one?” Blaster asks.

Rewind nods, and there’s a flicker from the camera lens attached to his head. “It’s bad.”

Frag. Another expense.

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Scars of Yesterday
Chapter Twenty-One

“What happened with Starscream?”

“Did his human really turn into a harpy?”

“Did Megatron actually let more humans stay here?”

“Can we meet them?”

“Can we keep them?”

The last question came from, of course, Laserbeak, but given the mischief in her eyes, Sunstreaker doubted she was serious. Mostly. He wasn’t sure about Laserbeak sometimes. She had a lot of mysteries tucked into that sunny exterior.

“Business none of yours,” Soundwave said once the bombardment of questions ended, mostly from the two sets of twins. Ravage had already gone for the day.

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Soundwave wasn’t sure what to expect after his return from the forest, especially between himself, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker. He thought there might be discomfort, friction, possibly distance between himself and then.

He certainly wasn’t expecting… this.

He thought once his arm healed enough that the sling could be removed – only a few days after the initial injury – things would go back to normal. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would return to the privacy of their nook, and their own personal interests, rather than sticking close. No more would he spend nearly every meal with them, or have their company in the baths.

He was wrong.

Sure, they backed off on the nannying once it was clear Soundwave was capable of taking care of himself. They still brought him meals, but it was no more than what efforts his own siblings already offered. They put themselves into the rotation, and joined Soundwave’s family for every meal, often with Soundwave between them.

Not a single sibling protested. Not even Buzzsaw, which in itself was an oddity.

Which wasn’t to say Sideswipe and Sunstreaker spent every waking moment with Soundwave either. They hadn’t abandoned their own pursuits. Sunstreaker still visited Mirage and Tracks for his artistic lessons. Sideswipe convinced any warrior he could for fighting lessons, though he favored Drift and swordwork, once Perceptor and Drift’s heats had concluded.

They both volunteered to Gather, or clean up after meals, and Sunstreaker had started reading to the little ones in the nursery before their naptimes. Sideswipe volunteered to take a few guard shifts in the Aerie interior.

But they made time for Soundwave, too.

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Scars of Yesterday
Chapter Seventeen

Sunstreaker did not sleep.

He lay down and attempted to do so, Laserbeak curled in his arms with Buzzsaw curled around her, but sleep would not find him, and it seemed to elude the smaller twins as well. Laserbeak twitched and murmured with nightmares; Buzzsaw stared blankly at the far wall. Neither he nor Rumble had found any trace of their missing siblings.

Sideswipe’s back pressed to Sunstreaker’s, but he was too tense to truly be asleep.

Pre-dawn arrived, and Sunstreaker rose from the nest, rousing everyone else in the process. Exhaustion settled over them, but there was determination as well. Frenzy and Rumble burst into the room carrying armfuls of supplies – flashlights, a first aid kit, some food.

“Rung was up and about,” Frenzy said as they dumped their items down and started to sort through them. “We told him what’s going on, but he’s level-headed. He’ll keep quiet until we come back from our first search.”

“And then?” Sideswipe asked as he grabbed a scone to nibble on. He tried to offer one to Sunstreaker, but he waved it off.

Sunstreaker’s stomach was in too many knots to eat. He took a flashlight instead, flicking the switch to make sure it worked.

“And then we sound the alarm,” Rumble said with a sigh. “We’ll need help by that point.”

“It won’t come to that,” said Laserbeak, her feathers drooping, every inch of her appearing wan and exhausted. “We’ll find both of them.”

Her determination left no room for argument.

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Title: Tread Lightly
Universe: Consortium, the Prime’s Consorts
Characters: Jazz/Soundwave, Ratchet, Optimus Prime
Rated: T
Description: Jazz knows he’s a ticking time bomb, and with Optimus getting ready to make his move, it’s time Jazz trusts him enough to get defused.

Words… are important.

Actions speak louder, true, and better reflect the internal thoughts of a mech, but words have power, too.

There is nothing reckless about Optimus Prime. Jazz cannot confuse his gentle, well-meaning spark for weakness. He means what he says, but there’s a quiet calculation in everything he does. He’s deliberate. He’s intentional.

He has plans.

They’ve all been settling. For months now, Optimus has been playing the public game. He’s respectful and quiet, demurring to the Senate, to those in political power, while he watches and he waits and he gathers information.

Optimus is plotting.

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Scars of Yesterday
Chapter Twelve

Sideswipe woke to an insistent tapping on his cheek. He groaned and tried to swat at the nuisance, but it avoided his sweeping hand and returned to poke at him some more.

"Stop it, Sunny."

The nuisance giggled. "It's me, silly." Laserbeak poked at his cheek again. "Wake up! It's the day of the festival and you're missing it!"

The lump of swaddled blankets beside Sideswipe barely stirred. "Why so early?" Sunstreaker asked without emerging from his cocoon.

"Why not?" Laserbeak laughed and settled on Sideswipe's shoulder, peering down at him. "Can't you hear it?"

Sideswipe paused and listened. Sure enough, he could pick up the distant sound of music, floating up from some unknown location. Probably the main foyer. There wasn't really anywhere else for a band to set up, except maybe Drift's dojo, and the music would be louder if that was the case.

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Scars of Yesterday
Chapter Ten
They’d always been quick learners and now was no exception. Surrounded by harpies who spoke their own language and even a few who knew the human tongue, made it easier to pick it up. Sideswipe was faster at it, of course, but that only made it easier for Sunstreaker to follow in his brother’s -- his twin’s, he had the word for it now -- example.

He let Sideswipe take the lead. It was easier that way. Sideswipe floated through their new home with ease, making friends left and right, volunteering them for all kinds of duties. Sunstreaker was happy enough to tag along, to carry things and haul things and learn new things.

There was so much to learn.

Sideswipe really took to Perceptor and Drift. If he wandered away from Sunstreaker, he was sure to find his twin up on the highest tier, staring with wide eyes as Perceptor explained some concept he found fascinating. Sunstreaker, personally, thought it was all boring. He stuck around Sideswipe at first, not wanting to be separated from his brother.

Then he met Mirage and Tracks.

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a/n: This fic was written for the Redacted Fanzine.

Title: Safe Mode
Characters: Hot Rod, Drift, Ultra Magnus, other Wreckers in passing
Rated: T
Warnings: canon-typical gore and violence
Description: Hot Rod wakes with a terrible headache, which is a small price to pay for his recent mission failure.

His head hurts.

Hot Rod onlines to a slate-gray ceiling, the hum of the Xantium around him, the quiet beep of machines, and a hole in his memory so wide a Decepticon can stroll through it. Primus, it always takes too long for his processor to cycle up properly.

Drift leans into view, optics bright. “About time your lazy aft woke up.”

Relief washes out an odd sense of unease. Drift’s presence is a good sign that everything is going to be okay.

“What hit me?” Hot Rod struggles to sit up, frame creaking and aching, and Drift offers an arm to steady him.

“Those charges packed a Pit of a punch,” Drift says, his hand firm on Hot Rod’s elbow. “Got you and your team out with nothing but scratches and dents.”

Oh. Right. The mission.

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Scars of Yesterday
Chapter Eight

Sideswipe woke with a mouthful of feathers, and spat them out on instinct, because he couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t woke with a mouthful of feathers, specifically Sunstreaker’s. At night, Sunstreaker wrapped around him like he hated that they were in two different bodies and sought to try and merge them back together.

It was nice when it was cold and they only had each other for warmth. But they had blankets and pillows and this cozy space.

Sideswipe loved his brother. He really did. But he was suffocating, damn it.

“Sunny, wake up,” Sideswipe said, trying to grab his brother by the shoulders and give him a shake.

“Nnnn,” Sunstreaker muttered and rolled away from him, right into the side of their little nook. “Wait. What?”

“Get off. It’s hot.” Sideswipe gave him another push.

“Yeah. It is.” Sunstreaker sat up, feathers sticking in all directions, blinking slowly, and it was impossible to stay annoyed with him when he looked that cute. “Wait. We’re not…”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Sideswipe said, and grabbed Sunstreaker’s hand, pulling it close to feather a kiss across his knuckles. “I think we’re actually safe.”

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