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They are more at peace with the status quo, as they subconsciously understand the flow of the near-eternal universe.
Skywarp feels at one with the universe, letting everyone in on the joke of existence...
- Transformers Binder of Revelations
A single plume of smoke broke through the pale expanse of the sky.
It rose high over the rippling white land, swirling and dissipating into the frigid winds of the Antarctic. A large gash had been gouged out in the untouched snow, one that stretched out for a long distance before coming to an abrupt halt.
Snow crunched under Skyfire’s heavy steps as he hastened along the gash right up to the source of the smoke: a Cybertronian flyer, half buried in the snow. Tremors wracked his crumpled frame. Energon seeped into the snow. One black wing stuck up, standing out starkly against the surrounding whiteness.
Emblazoned on it was the Decepticon insignia.
Skyfire hunkered down next to the flyer and started to sweep the snow off him. He was in a bad condition. One of his wings had crumpled under his weight, and one leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. His flickering optics were dim with exhaustion. Slowly, hazily, he focused on Skyfire.
Fear flooded the defenseless flyer’s optics.
“It's okay,” Skyfire told him. “I’m here to help.”
He grabbed him by the arm and started hauling him up. The panicked flyer scrabbled uselessly against the snow and made a weak, gasping noise.
“Stay calm,” Skyfire said through gritted teeth, dragging him back and gathering him up in his arms. He hefted up the squirming flyer – a seeker, he could see now – and rose. The seeker was lighter than he had expected, and Skyfire rushed back, leaving a trail of smoke as warm energon seeped through his fingers. He wasn’t gentle in his urgency, and the seeker let out a pained whimper as he was jostled.
By the time he reached his lab, the seeker’s rapidly cooling frame had gone slack in his arms.
He shoved open a heavy hatch door and hurried into his warm lab. He placed the seeker on a cluttered table, swept everything off, and surveyed the damage.
It looked worse than it actually was. He quickly patched up the bleeding, then scrounged around for more repair supplies. He repaired the leg plating and readjusted the joints before turning his attention to the wing. It had crumpled badly, and although a seasoned medic could probably have fully repaired it, Skyfire would have to make do with whatever knowledge and supplies he had.
He spent a long time straightening out the wing and covering it in patches and clips and fasteners. Eventually he stepped back and exhaled slowly. It wasn’t a great repair job, but… it would do. He would have to rely on the seeker’s self-repair to kick in and fix up the rest.
The seeker was alright, for now.
Skyfire wiped the energon off his hands and made his way across the cluttered little lab.
Well, he called it a lab, but it was more of a multipurpose room. His large, lopsided recharge pod was nestled snugly amongst crates of raw energon and scavenged equipment. A combination of human-made satellite dishes and Cybertronian signal detectors were set up next to a collection of mismatched monitors. The lab tended to get gloomy, so he had strung up a few strings of speckled lights around the place.
It was a warm and cozy place, and he was very proud of it.
Skyfire dug a chunk of raw energon out of a box and placed it into his janky little processing machine. He pressed a few buttons, and pure energon seeped into the cup under it. While he waited for that to finish up, he turned to gaze at the battered, unconscious seeker. His plating was dull and scratched, but it sparkled with droplets of melted snow. The Decepticon insignia on his wing glimmered under the warm light, demanding to be addressed.
Skyfire sighed wearily. He had known what he was getting himself into when he heard the crash out in the middle of this deserted place. Still, saving a Decepticon seeker’s life was one thing, but bringing him into his hideout was another. Seekers were a famously persistent group of hunters, and if the rest of them found out where he was…
But what else was he supposed to do?
The machine beeped cheerfully, and he picked up the cup.
He could have left him to die, he mused, crossing the room. It would have been safer for him. It would probably have been better for everyone, actually.
But even as he thought that, he was holding the seeker’s jaw and pouring the energon down his throat. He was picking him up and placing him into the recharge pod. He was wrapping him up in large sheets of tarp, trying to preserve whatever meagre heat his weak, exhausted systems could generate.
If anything, Skyfire told himself, it was better than having a dead body in his backyard.
The seeker’s body was still cold – his wings made it hard to wrap him up effectively – so Skyfire sat down next to him and drew him closer. He amped up his engines a little, enough to start warming up the seeker.
He waited patiently, remembering what he had read about humans and their various heating devices. One of them was an oven, and they put their breads and buns in there to warm them up.
I am an oven, he told himself. And this is my bread bun.
And he hummed to himself, pleased with the thought.
~~~~~
…the last sample I checked on, T3_B, showed the least amount of energon growth. So far, this has clashed severely with my hypotheses. If only I had the liberty to move freely across this planet, I would be able to place many more samples, and draw better conclusions. For now, I will return to my charts and run a few more analyses in hopes of finding a better angle.
Skyfire paused his typing.
Also, he wrote. Today I dug a Decepticon seeker out of the snow. Hopefully he doesn’t kill me.
He ended the log, still deep in contemplation. The Autobots had been in communication with him, asking about his research, but he might have to put off speaking with them for a while.
He heard the sound of rustling behind himself and turned to see that the seeker was finally stirring. The light in his optics was dim and fuzzy, and Skyfire spent several minutes watching him groggily fumble with the tarp in confused silence.
He finally freed himself and sat up, blinking slowly. He investigated his repaired wing for a while, then turned his head to survey his surroundings. His gaze fell on a sparkling string light hanging by his head, and he paused, fascinated. Slowly, he leaned forward, and his optics crossed slightly.
“Hello,” Skyfire called, his voice soft. The seeker startled and twisted around to look at him.
“Hi, uh, hey,” he stammered. “Are you… did you bring me here?”
“I did.” Skyfire approached him, and the seeker craned his neck to look up at his towering figure. He shrank back, and Skyfire noticed his wings twitch apprehensively. He softened his solemn expression into a friendly smile, something he had almost forgotten how to do after spending so long in isolation.
“I fixed you up, as well,” he said. “That was a nasty crash you had out there.”
“Oh.” The seeker's good wing flitted. “Primus, thanks. I seriously didn’t think I’d make it.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“I’ve been worse.” He swung his legs over the edge of the pod and made to get up, but Skyfire gently nudged him back in.
He flopped back without complaint. “Where are we? Is this still that stormy white place?”
“We’re-”
“How did you find me? Do you just live here? Also, who even are you?”
He finally paused, his gaze flickering over Skyfire’s wings. His optics narrowed.
“Who… are you?” he asked again, an uneasy edge to his voice.
“Don’t worry.” Skyfire held up his hands placatingly. “I am a Decepticon, just like you. My name is, um, Snow… storm.”
The seeker didn’t look convinced. “Where’s your Decepticon insignia?”
“Oh! Good catch. I am… under cover.” He nodded enthusiastically. “I have to keep my identity hidden. I am a very, very secret agent, after all. That’s why you’ve probably never heard of me. And… you can’t tell anyone else about me, either.”
The seeker just stared at him in silence. Skyfire shifted his weight, suddenly feeling uncertain about this plan.
“Hail… Decepticons?” he offered.
The seeker’s optics narrowed, and he felt as though they were blazing a hole straight through.
But then he just shrugged.
“Okay,” he said, and he snuggled down into the pod.
“Oh… okay.”
“I’m Skywarp, by the way,” he said, and stuck out his hand. Skyfire shook it.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too, Snowstorm. It’s a huge stroke of luck you were stationed out here. And thanks again for the repairs.”
“Of course. You won’t be able to fly for a while, though.”
“‘S’alright,” mumbled Skywarp, who had burrowed himself into the sheets. “I don’t wanna fly in that nightmare anytime soon.”
“What happened, anyway? Why did you crash?”
“You won’t believe it, Snowstorm,” said the pile of blankets. “Anything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I had to warp too much, and it made me run outta energon, and then the weather went bad…”
He trailed off into silence.
“It’s cozy here,” he mumbled drowsily. The sheets rippled, and Skyfire realized that he was kneading his blankets. “Big recharge pod. You’ve got a nice place.”
Skyfire beamed. “Thank you.”
The pile of blankets didn’t reply, but the slowly sagging shape of wings indicated that he had dozed off again.
And so Skyfire left him to it.
~~~~~
Leaving the seeker on his own probably wasn’t the best idea, but it couldn’t have been worse than bringing him inside in the first place. He seemed generally harmless and willing enough to believe Skyfire’s story, at least for now.
And so Skyfire had disconnected all forms of outside communication in his lab and sealed the lab’s hatch before heading out. He needed a walk to clear his head and think about what he was going to do about the Decepticon currently dozing in his recharge pod. He had long gotten used to living a slow, quiet life by himself. He wasn’t prepared for a new companion in his lab. He certainly wasn’t prepared for it to be a Decepticon, of all things.
But the walk did him good. Skyfire’s restless thoughts had settled by the time he arrived back at the lab. He swung open the hatch and stepped inside to find that Skywarp had woken up and was now investigating the lab.
Specifically, the container of raw energon.
“Hey there,” Skyfire called cheerfully. Skywarp jumped and twisted around. His big round optics peered guiltily over the large chunk of raw energon clamped in his mouth.
“I just- what are you doing?” And then, with a spike of alarm, Skyfire repeated, “What are you doing?”
Skywarp tried to bolt, but he crossed the room in two swift strides after him. A brief moment of skittering and flapping ended with Skyfire seizing him by the scruff and lifting him off the ground. He wriggled fruitlessly before accepting his defeat and going limp.
He let out a low whine.
“Drop that,” Skyfire said sternly. “You know that’s not good for you.”
He squirmed again.
“I said drop it.”
Skywarp opened his mouth and let the energon drop to the ground with a soggy thunk. Skyfire peered down at the chunk, which was now perforated with little fang shaped holes. He set Skywarp down.
“How much did you manage to gnaw off?” he asked, exasperated.
“Lil’ bit.” Skywarp ran the narrow tip of his dark tongue over his lip. “You hid the proper stuff really well.”
“It’s not hidden,” he said wearily. “You have to process it. You could have just asked.”
“...oh.”
“Look, come here. I’ll show you. And no,” he added, as Skywarp picked up his soggy, nibbled chunk of energon. “I’m not putting that in my machine.”
But he held onto the energon and bounded after Skyfire, who showed him how to run the machine.
“You get better quality than drinking preprocessed stores,” Skyfire explained, handing him a cup. “Just don’t try to eat raw energon again.”
“‘S’not so bad, you know,” Skywarp said with a grin. But he accepted the cup gratefully.
“Surely you haven’t eaten it before.”
He shrugged. “The processed storage in the ship is monitored really well. The unprocessed one isn’t. And I burn through my fuel like a shuttle, so…”
He trailed off, tilting his head to look up at Skyfire. “Uh, no offense.”
“...none taken.”
Skywarp gave him a bright smile, then hopped away with his cup.
“So what were you doing outside?” he asked, clambering back into the recharge pod.
“I just-”
“I woke up and you were just gone, and it was kind of creepy-like. But this place is so cute, so I didn’t really feel worried. Not sure if that’s a good thing. Apparently I’ve got the survival instincts of a snail.”
Skyfire couldn’t help but feel like he would be inclined to agree.
“So then I tried to send a message back to headquarters, but anything in here that could send a signal is busted, so I don’t know how you communicate with anyone around here. And then I went outside, but there was all that white stuff, and I got nervous and came back inside.”
Skyfire frowned. “I thought I sealed-”
“No clue how you deal with it all. Also, what even is a snail?”
He didn’t try to reply this time. He just sat down in front of his monitors and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Skywarp took a swig of his drink.
“So what were you doing outside?” he asked.
“I was-”
“What do you even do out here? What’s so top secret?”
“Well,” Skyfire said with a smile. “It’s… top secret.”
“Oh, haha. But like, I didn’t know we had agents stationed out in such isolated places.”
“Yes, it’s just… monitoring, and stuff,” he said vaguely. “Um, emergency rescues. Like your case.”
“Ah!” Skywarp beamed. “Then I’ll be sure to tell Lord Megatron you did a great job.”
“Ohhhuhhhummm… That’s… not necessary.”
“Maybe he’ll give you a promotion!”
“Nooo…”
Skyfire gave him a strained smile. “Actually, this job is very, very top secret. Um, including our identities. Information about us is very scarce and no one knows the full picture. Even Lord Megatron doesn’t know our real names. And... faces. And locations. So you can't say anything to anyone once you get back. And, um, you cannot come back here, either.”
He resisted the urge to grimace at his flimsy lie. But Skywarp’s face grew solemn.
“Okay,” he said seriously. “I’ll keep it a secret. I promise.”
Skyfire couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”
He grinned back at him. “So what were you doing outside?”
Skyfire paused, waiting for him to interrupt again.
“I just wanted to go for a walk,” he replied patiently.
Skywarp’s wings rose in surprise. They were incredibly expressive, he had noted.
“In the white stuff?” he exclaimed.
“The white stuff is just snow,” he said with amusement. “It won’t hurt you, unless you’re flying in a storm.”
“Oh! So that’s what your name means.”
“Sure. A lot of humans even play with snow. Do you want to go look at it?”
“Okay,” Skywarp chirped.
And then he just disappeared.
Skyfire froze. There had been a hiss and a flash of light, and Skywarp’s empty cup tumbled to the floor. There was nothing but an empty space where he had been just a moment ago. He rose, his whole frame tense. His optics darted around the room.
“Sky… warp?” he called uncertainly. “Skywarp? Hello?”
A loud banging on the hatch made him jump.
“Heyyy!” called a muffled voice from the other side. “Are you coming or not?”
Bewildered, he hurried over to the hatch and pulled it open. Standing outside was Skywarp, speckled with snow and shifting his weight impatiently.
“How-” Skyfire stammered. “Why are you- how did you get out here?”
“Oh, I just teleported.”
“What?”
“Couldn’t figure out how to open your big silly door.”
And then he hopped away.
Skyfire swung the hatch closed and stared at it for a while, then shook his head and followed after the seeker, who was peering at the snow in fascination.
“So this is harmless, huh?”
“Yep. It's just frozen water.”
Skywarp gave it an experimental kick, then shied away as the wind tossed it back over him. Seekers were a fussy lot, and Skyfire braced himself for a torrent of it's so cold and why is it wet and ahh argh it's getting all over me!
But none of that came. Skywarp crouched down and started digging his slender fingers into the snow.
“It's soft,” he remarked. “And… moldable. Look, I can make a ball.”
He crunched together some snow and held it up with a proud grin. Skyfire nodded in approval.
“Humans like to make snowmen out of it.”
Skywarp’s wings flicked with interest. He started to scrape together a bunch of snow and patted it into a shape.
“They take three balls of decreasing size and stack them on top of each other,” Skyfire continued, watching the formation of the rather unfortunate looking lump, and wondering what kind of humans he could possibly be trying to emulate.
Skywarp squinted at him in puzzlement. “That's not what a man looks like.”
“Neither is that,” he replied, pointing at the sculpture, and he laughed in response.
“They also make snow angels.”
“And what's that?” Skywarp rose and crumbled the “snowman” back into the ground. “Three squares on top of each other?”
Skyfire chuckled. “No, it's a shape in the ground. You lie down and swing your arms and legs.”
Skywarp contemplated the snow. He dropped to his knees.
He faceplanted into the ground.
“Though your wings- ah, no-”
He began flailing his arms and legs.
Skyfire burst into laughter. He stepped back to save himself from the flurry of snow that he was kicking up.
Skywarp pushed himself up and blinked through the snow he was covered in. He looked down at his masterpiece.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “These angel things must look crazy!”
He shook himself, from head to wing to leg, sending out another spray of snow. Then he hopped away, past Skyfire, who was still doubled over with laughter.
It took him a moment to collect himself and straighten up. He looked at the chaotic mess on the ground and snorted in amusement. Being by himself, he hadn't laughed like that in a long time.
It felt nice.
“Hey, Snowstorm!”
He turned. “Hm-?”
A ball of snow struck him squarely in the face.
Skyfire spluttered and stumbled back. He wiped it off his face to see Skywarp in the snow, caught in a fit of laughter.
“Gotcha!” he giggled. “I bet you didn't see- AHH!”
Skyfire's retaliation was even bigger. He hurled the massive chunk of snow and sent him toppling over in a flurry of fluttering wings.
“There,” he said dryly, dusting his hands. “That should teach you to behave.”
It did not teach him anything.
Skywarp dug himself out of the snow with a thrilled grin and another ball of snow already clutched in his hands. He tossed it at Skyfire, and it splattered over his shoulder. And in spite of himself, he let out a huff of laughter.
So he knelt down and gathered up a huge ball of snow while Skywarp pelted him. He rose and hefted it up threateningly, earning a giggle from him. When he flung it at him, he vanished with a flash of light and a delighted shriek.
Then a ball of snow spattered over the back of Skyfire's head. He spun around, grabbed a ball, and threw it at him, only for him to warp away in a split second.
They went back and forth like that for a while, chasing each across the empty expanse while the sun made its way across the sky. Skywarp would flicker around and pelt him with little balls of snow, only to get caught by a large chunk every so often.
It was only when Skyfire's systems pinged him, warning him that his temperature was dropping, that he stopped.
The sun was setting now. Layers of soft pink rippled over the dusky purple plains. Skyfire dusted himself off and trudged over to Skywarp, who was digging in the snow. His wings twitched happily, but also trembled from the cold.
“We should go back inside now,” said Skyfire.
“What?” He looked up. “Nooo, I'm playing.”
“You're getting cold. We-”
“I'm fine!” he whined. “You go. I'll come.”
“Absolutely not,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Come along now.”
But then Skywarp started trying to dig himself into the snow.
“No-” He sighed in exasperation. “Skywarp, no, we need to get back.”
He grabbed him around the middle and pulled him out. Skywarp yelped and grasped at the snow, leaving long claw marks on the surface. Skyfire ignored his protests and tossed him over his shoulder.
He started to make his way back to the hatch. Skywarp's whining and wriggling continued, and so did the sun's descent. The night sky came, bringing its glorious collection of stars with it.
By the time they got back, he had gone quiet, and he had tucked his arms in against Skyfire's wings.
“Got it all out of your system?” asked Skyfire.
“Yeah,” came the drowsy reply. “‘s pretty.”
“It is pretty,” he agreed.
And so he opened the hatch and went inside. He placed Skywarp in the recharge pod, and he snuggled up happily. Skyfire took a few moments to check on his damaged wing. It twitched lightly in his hand and it seemed, in spite of the roughhousing, to be perfectly fine.
“Can I’ve’a drink?” Skywarp mumbled. “I'm low again.”
“Already?” he gave him a bemused smile. “You weren't exaggerating earlier, it seems.”
“Warpin’,” he explained. “Burns through fuel like crazy.”
“I'll get you another one.”
And so he did.
He got a little for himself too, and his systems pinged him again to remind him that he hadn't recharged in a while. He eyed Skywarp, huddled in his pod, lapping away at his drink. Skyfire started gathering some of the blankets and padding around him. He placed them on the ground and shaped them into a nice, seeker sized nest.
“There,” he said. “Now we have one pod each.”
“That's great,” Skywarp chirped. Then he stretched luxuriously, rolled over in the middle of a large blanket, and curled up.
Skyfire stared at him.
Then he looked down at the nest.
Awkwardly, he raised his leg and stepped into it. He hunkered down into it, tightly hugging his knees.
The blankets had disappeared under him.
Hmm.
This wouldn't work.
He got up and fixed the poor, squashed nest, then went over to Skywarp. He took one corner of the blanket he was lying on. Then, one by one, he took the other three and pulled them up, catching him up in the blanket and lifting him off the pod.
His seeker bundle started to purr.
Skyfire carried him over to the nest and lowered him into it. He settled down, unfazed, and Skyfire was finally able to switch off the lights and return to his own pod.
As he settled in, he saw a pair of bright, round optics watching him.
“Snowstorm?” came his voice through the dark.
“Yes?”
“I had fun today.”
He smiled. “I'm glad.”
There was a pause.
“So did I.”
~~~~~
“...fifteen seekers and a car. You can imagine how that went.”
“Mhm.”
“Or maybe there were fourteen. And two cars. But basically, there were seventeen people there, and none of us knew what to do, so we did get in a lot of trouble when we got back.”
Skywarp paused and hefted up the chunk of energon he was carrying, nearly half as big as himself.
“Oof,” he sighed. “Can we take a break?”
Skyfire, who had been steadily trudging alongside him, paused.
“Sure,” he said, adjusting the bundle of energon on his back, which was probably the size of two whole Skywarps.
Skywarp dropped his chunk with a relieved sigh and rolled his shoulders. He twitched his wings and hopped around. He kicked up sprays of snow and marvelled out loud at the way they glimmered. Skyfire lowered his bundle and waited patiently until he was ready to go again.
The energon store in his lab had dwindled quickly once his new housemate had arrived. Since the crash, the mischievous little seeker hadn’t had any trouble making himself at home in his place and working his way into Skyfire’s routine. He loved following him out on his treks. He loved playing in the snow. He loved watching the sunset and gazing at the northern lights at night. He pestered Skyfire to let tell him about his research, and he would listen patiently while he read his logs to him, even if he didn't really seem to understand them all that much.
All the while, his wing recovered at a steady pace, and every day they removed more and more of the clips and fasteners holding it together. Every time, Skywarp asked him the same question: could he fly now? Could he transform? Every time, the answer was no, he had to take care of himself to recover well.
There was also another question – a statement – left unspoken between them. He would have to leave, after all, when he recovered. The army didn’t wait. The war didn’t wait.
But for now, he was here, and they spent their days together.
So Skyfire took him out to the energon deposit he had relied on for so long. The deposit was nearly emptied out by this point, and it had worried him to see just how little energon they were able to find.
Still, they gathered up whatever they could carry – or rather, what Skyfire could carry and what made Skywarp feel like he had made a helpful contribution – and headed out. Skyfire never flew to the deposit: there were human establishments somewhere on this continent and his shuttle form was simply too large to avoid detection. And Skywarp still had a few fasteners left in his wing.
So they walked, like he always did. But it wasn't as quiet this time. With Skywarp's constant chatter to focus on, the wind didn't feel so bitingly cold. The mining didn't feel so arduous. And though Skywarp's share was small, the weight he carried back didn't feel as heavy.
“...much bigger if they're a triple changer,” Skywarp was saying. “I have a triple changer shuttle friend and when he gets annoyed with me he grabs me and puts me in his cab.”
“I imagine it gets cramped in there.”
“Oh, of course.” There was a crunch as he stomped into the snow. “But it's cosy, too. And I can always warp out…”
His voice faded as he scampered away. Then there was a skidding noise, a yelp, and then, finally, silence.
Skyfire gazed out over the snowy expanse. The sun was setting, and the soft light threw waves of pinks and purples over the land. Streaks of vibrantly colored clouds were brushed over the skies.
Eventually he turned to look at Skywarp, who was still lying in the snow. He was gazing up at the sky in silence, with an oddly contemplative expression on his face.
“Are you alright?”
He hesitated for a moment, then sat up and shook himself off.
“I’m sensing something,” he said, gazing down into the snow. Skyfire frowned. He checked his audials, his radar, and scanned everything he could see, but there was absolutely nothing that he could pick up on.
“Are you… sure?”
He shrugged and stretched out his hand. “Let's see.”
Skyfire took his hand and started to haul him up, but then-
The world around him crumpled.
He felt his body dissipate – shifting, swirling, twisting out of control – and then the world reopened and he was back, standing upright like nothing had happened.
Skyfire staggered, dizzied, and felt a small pair of arms trying to steady him. He felt a strange rush pass through his spark, or his audials? A hum, a sigh, something deep and vibrating.
But then it faded, and he blinked rapidly and refocused his vision. Slowly, he realized that they were no longer standing in the snow. Dark, craggly walls of blue tinged rock surrounded them, and the air was damp and cool.
Skywarp grinned up at him. “Seems like I was right.”
“Did- why- are we back in the mine?” he stammered, bewildered.
“Yeah! …no. Kind of.” And then he pointed behind Skyfire. “Look.”
He turned around and gasped in surprise.
Energon. Huge, glimmering chunks of it, embedded deep in the rocky walls. A massive clump had clustered in one spot, faintly pulsing in unison. It had split wide cracks into the walls, from which came a gentle blue light and seeping tears of energon.
“A different cave,” he marvelled. “Where… how did you…?”
Skywarp beamed. “It's cool, isn't it? Your last mine looked kind of empty.”
Skyfire checked his location. They were close to where they had been moments ago, but far underground. “How could you possibly have known this was here?”
“I told you.” The sound of his steps echoed through the cave. “I sensed it.”
Skyfire eyed him warily. Energon trackers were rare technology, and they were too large and cumbersome for him to have concealed on himself. Had the Decepticons scoped out this area already? Was this all an elaborate trap?
No, he told himself. If Skywarp wanted to turn him in, he would have done so a while ago.
“And what does that mean, exactly?” he asked.
Skywarp didn't reply immediately. Stark shadows fell over his unusually solemn face. Soft blue streaks of light brushed over his dark plating.
“How old do you think this deposit is?” he asked, his voice soft.
Skyfire came over to join him.
“I’d say it's been left here for a couple million years, perhaps?” He traced his fingers over the energon. “It has had some time to meld into the rock.”
“And grow.”
“Indeed.”
“Just like on Cybertron.”
“I… struggle to see where this is going,” he admitted.
“Well, when someone left a deposit somewhere on Cybertron, it would meld into the rock much faster right? A million years or so. It would seep into the rock and grow and expand.”
Skyfire listened patiently.
“It was like… its blood,” he continued quietly. “Cybertron was so alive. It thrummed and pulsed with energy. And I could feel it.”
Skywarp gave him an apprehensive glance. Skyfire just tilted his head inquiringly.
“It was the constant warping, I think,” he said, flicking his wings. “Dissolving, squeezing through space itself, over and over again. As time went on, I started to get more… attuned, I guess, to the world around me. And I could feel Cybertron itself. Beating. Breathing. And I could sense the energon deposits, too, like sparks in a body.”
Skyfire listened in silence, his lips parted in awe.
“As the war went on, it started to fade,” Skywarp murmured. “Energon reserves stopped growing, the land grew barren, and Cybertron grew quieter and quieter, until I could barely hear it anymore. And then I came to Earth. And it was quiet – so, so quiet – but I could hear something. I could hear it. Earth itself. It was tired and worn out, but it was there. I found the first energon deposit, left behind by some unknown travelers millions of years ago. Loud. Heavy. And full of life. It was incredible.”
He reached out and placed his hand on the glowing energon, and Skyfire wondered if he saw it pulse in response to his touch.
“You can hear planets,” Skyfire mumbled, bewildered.
“Not just planets.” He trailed his fingers over the rock. “Even when travelling through space, I can hear it. It’s like the whole universe is humming and shifting to the same rhythm.”
The two of them lapsed into silence.
“Do I sound crazy?” he asked after a while, and a nervous laugh escaped his throat. “I haven’t gone mad, I promise. I mean… we have proof, don’t we? How else would I have been able to find this on my own?”
“I don’t think you’ve gone mad,” he said quietly. Skywarp looked up at him, and relief flooded his optics.
“Right… I… Of course.”
They both stared at the glowing blue light together. Skyfire’s thoughts were racing. The implications of this revelation felt tremendous. He would have to press Skywarp for many more answers. He would have to ask him what the Decepticon researchers had discovered with this information. They would have to run tests together and carefully study his ability. Would the Autobots be able to help them study this ability? What did this say about Cybertron? About Primus?
What did this say about Earth?
“Thank you,” Skywarp said after a while. “I haven’t actually… told this to anyone. Ever.”
Skyfire blinked.
“And you told… me?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s not a light secret to keep. I had to get it out somehow.”
“Are you afraid they won’t believe you?”
“No. Yeah. Well.” He looked down at the ground and scuffed at it with his thruster.
“No,” he admitted. “I’m sure they’ll believe me. I’m afraid of what they’ll do to me after that.”
“...oh.”
“My teleportation already draws enough attention. They keep examining my warp drive and plugging wires into my head. What would they do if they found out about this? I’m terrified that I’ll wake up disassembled and strapped to a machine; no longer a person, or a seeker, just a set of optimized abilities. I was too scared to tell anyone, even my closest friends. And now…”
He trailed off, and his wings twitched with unease. Hesitantly, he raised his gaze to Skyfire, his “Decepticon” ally.
He imagined Skywarp – vibrant, free-spirited Skywarp – pinned to a Decepticon’s dissection table or trapped alone in an Autobot’s lab, and felt his spark churn.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Skyfire said immediately. “I promise.”
Skywarp gave him a small smile.
“It’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” he murmured. “The army could make great use of this kind of information. What kind of soldier would hide it from them?”
“Any soldier.”
He just chewed on his lip in silence.
“No one would want to surrender themselves to Decepticon scientists, I’d imagine. It’s not something to be ashamed of.”
He nodded silently. His dark fingers trailed over the energon, and for a moment, Skyfire imagined the Earth humming gently to him.
Eventually, Skywarp turned and gave him a smile.
“But it’s not so bad, you know,” he said. “It’s comforting, actually, seeing what this universe and this life are really about.”
“I… can’t say I really understand.”
“Well, maybe you don’t need to,” he said, and held out his hands. “Come on, let’s go. A big guy like you is probably getting claustrophobic here.”
Skyfire smiled back and took his hand. “Are you sure you aren’t projecting?”
“Ha! I could leave you in here, if I wanted.”
He didn’t give Skyfire a chance to respond.
His body twisted into nothingness, and the world collapsed around them.
~~~~~
A clattering sound drew Skyfire out of his slumber. His systems stirred to life, and he lifted his head to squint at the source of the noise.
Skywarp sat on the ground amidst a pile of crates. One of the string lights was draped over his shoulder, and he was fiddling with something in his hands.
“Skywarp,” he mumbled blearily. “What-”
“Snowstorm!” He looked up with a thrilled grin. “Hi. Watch this.”
“Mm.”
Skywarp plugged the end of a wire into a space under his jaw and his optics went dark. Then they started blinking in gold light. All of the string lights in the room flashed with him, blinking along with his big round optics. He started laughing in delight and Skyfire, pressing a hand to his face in exasperation, started laughing too.
Every time Skyfire thought he had gotten used to his days with Skywarp starting with nonsensical shenanigans, he was proven wrong. He sat up and stretched out his wings, careful not to hit any of the blinking lights.
“Very good,” he said mildly. “I hope you know how to put that back to normal.”
Skywarp beamed at him, his optics full of stars.
The energon processor beeped, and they both turned toward it.
“I’ll get it,” Skywarp announced. He leapt up and promptly crashed into a pile of crates. Luckily, he managed to salvage the situation by flailing around and knocking every other crate that was still standing.
Skyfire stared at the heap of crates and twitching wings. The blinking lights turned off.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” he said, unfazed by the now common display of chaos. “I can get it.”
“Sorry,” mumbled the pile of crates. “I can’t actually see with the lights plugged in.”
While Skywarp cleared up his mess, Skyfire retrieved the energon. There were two cups, just like there were every day. He retreated to his recharge pod to enjoy his drink in peace. He took a long, deep sip, and sighed in contentment.
When he put his cup down, Skywarp was perched in front of him with an expectant look on his face. Skyfire gave him a bemused smile.
“Can I help you?”
He perked up. “Let’s do something.”
“Where’s your drink?”
“Drank it. Let’s go play snowball.”
“...maybe later.”
“Let’s go for a walk, then.”
“I’d rather stay inside.”
“Let’s make-”
“How about this,” he interrupted the excitable seeker. “Do you want to do a scavenger hunt?”
His wings flicked up immediately. Skyfire chuckled.
“I buried an energon canister in the snow outside the lab a while ago. Should be nice and hidden now. Why don’t you go look for it?”
“Okay!” He scurried away, then scurried back as a thought seemed to occur to him. “How do I look for it?”
“I don’t know. Go dig some holes or something.”
“Okay!”
He scurried away again, for good this time.
“Don’t freeze,” Skyfire called after him, but received no response. The hatch slammed shut behind his darting figure.
Oh well. He’d go retrieve the little fool once he started freezing himself.
He finished the drink in peace, then spent some time organizing his recent research logs. It was then that he came across an older log, the one from that trip to the mines. His optics skimmed over the text, snagging on some of the words.
Earth. Cybertron. Pulsing. Breathing.
And there, again and again:
Skywarp. Ability.
The Autobots had been trying to contact him again. They would want this information, if he offered it to them. They would want Skywarp.
He himself hadn’t stopped thinking about it either. Secretly, he had shifted the focus of his entire research toward this topic.
But every time he thought of trying to convince Skywarp to let him study his ability, he thought of his taut voice, the tremor in his wings, and the fear on that little blue tinged face, and his questions faded away.
His research would find answers eventually.
Skyfire got up, stretched luxuriously, and headed out.
It seemed like Skywarp really had spent his time digging holes. The front of the lab was covered in them. He now sat on a mound of snow, gazing up at the rising sun and clutching the fruit of his efforts in his hands.
He turned as Skyfire approached, and held up the canister with a proud grin.
“Very good,” he said with a smile. “Oh, no, you can keep it.”
He opened his cockpit and just barely managed to fit the large canister in there.
And so, once again, the two of them watched the sunrise in silence. It never got old, did it? The same sun, the same sky, and a new symphony of colors every day.
A new surprise every day.
Eventually, the stars faded away and the sky mellowed out into a syrupy golden blue. Skywarp was humming. It was a slow, uneven tune, and Skyfire wondered if he was following along an old song only he could hear.
He took hold of Skywarp’s dark wing and angled it slightly to get a better look. Only one clip was left, holding onto one last crack that was now nowhere to be found.
Skywarp tilted his head back and watched curiously as he removed the clip and passed his thumb over where it had been.
“Well,” Skyfire said after a pause. “That’s it, I suppose. You should be able to fly now.”
His face lit up. “Really?”
“I’d say so. The-”
There was a hiss and a huff and Skywarp vanished, leaving his fingers to close over the cold air.
The roar of engines overhead made his head snap up, and he stared in amazement as the black jet blazed through the sky at searing speed. He rolled and twisted through the air with wild abandon, but never veered even slightly out of control. Skyfire knew he should try to call him down – it was never a good idea to create unnecessary air traffic on such a watchful planet – but he just watched him fly, happy and free, with a smile on his face.
Eventually he slowed down and looped back around. Skyfire watched him approach, cheerful at first, then with growing alarm as he realized that the jet was coming straight for him.
He started to stumble back, but there was a loud thud and a spray of snow, and Skywarp tumbled directly into his arms. Skyfire grabbed onto him, startled, and felt his arms wrap around his neck.
“Thank you!” Skywarp laughed breathlessly. “Thank you for all your help.”
Skyfire laughed with him. He gave himself a shake to dislodge the snow tossed onto him and hugged him back, holding him up above the ground.
“I can go back now!”
Skyfire’s smile faded. Skywarp let go and wriggled until he was set down. He hopped around, too excited to stay still.
“I can’t wait to tell everyone about my adventure! They probably think I died. They’ll have so many questions! I wish I could take back some snow to show them.” He turned around to face him. “And… oh.”
Skyfire gave him a sad smile. Skywarp came forward and grabbed his hands.
“You should come with me,” he said earnestly.
“I cannot,” he reminded him, his voice gentle. He tried to tug his hands back, but Skywarp clung on.
“But you’ll get lonely by yourself,” he insisted. “It’s not fair. It’s cold and scary out here. You should come back.”
Skyfire’s spark ached suddenly. It weighed heavy in its chamber, but he tried to keep his voice light. “I’ve been by myself all this time, Skywarp,” he reminded him. “I am… happy to do my duty.”
Skywarp faltered then. He let go and lowered his gaze.
“Duty,” he repeated. “Of course. I understand.”
“...you could stay a little longer,” Skyfire offered hesitantly, but he just shook his head.
“I have my own duties,” he said quietly. “I should… I can’t neglect them.”
He mustered up a brave smile. “It’s… inspiring! Your devotion to the cause. Your bravery in staying here all alone. It’s been an honor to know you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Skyfire replied. “It was a true pleasure to meet you. I’ve never seen anyone seize the joy from this world with such determined ferocity.”
Skywarp laughed then, loud and lilting. He came forward and gave him a big hug. Once again, Skyfire reciprocated without a moment’s hesitation.
“It’ll be over soon,” Skywarp promised. “We’ll win the war. We’ll fix everything. You’ll be able to come back.”
Skyfire couldn’t bring himself to reply. He just held him a little tighter.
Eventually, they let go. Skyfire brought him a small first-aid kit and emergency flare, which they managed to fit beside the canister in his cockpit. He made sure his tank was full. He reminded him of the tricky weather spots and mountain ranges and protected airspaces…
And then Skywarp was standing at the top of a slope, waving with both arms. He had a bright smile on his face, and his dark plating was awash with gold streaks of sunlight and the white reflection of the snow.
Skyfire raised his arm and waved back.
And then Skywarp took a running leap off the slop and transformed. His engines roared and the sleek jet arced up into the air. Skyfire watched him rise, up, up into the sky. He took a wide loop around, lingering, just for a few more moments.
Then his engines boomed again, and he tore away through the air. Skyfire watched him go, even when his figure shrank into the horizon, even as the whine of his engines faded into silence.
It was only then that he lowered his arm.
The wind was bitingly cold against his plating.
He turned around and returned to his quiet lab.
~~~~~
Life was quiet again.
That was how it had always been. That was how he liked it.
That was how he… had liked it.
Skyfire’s days followed the same routine. He woke up to his dimly lit lab. He made himself a cup of energon. He revised his logs. He perused his archives. He took his walks.
His research continued. Sometimes he got in touch with the Autobots. They were interested in his new findings and hypotheses, even if he didn’t tell them his source.
The days passed.
The Decepticons never came for him. Skywarp had kept his secret well.
Skyfire thought about him sometimes. Often. He wondered. He worried. He worried he hadn’t made it back. He worried he had fallen in battle. The stories he had told him about those had been harrowing.
Don’t look at me like that, Skywarp had laughed. I’m not scared. There’s more to this life than dying.
Whatever that meant. He really did say some absurd things sometimes.
Didn’t he?
Still, the days passed.
Skyfire tried not to mind his thoughts too much. He watched the sunsets. He molded snow into little shapes. He kicked up sprays of snow and watched them glitter in the light.
And the days passed.
And one day, when he was deep in recharge, a skittering, clattering noise disturbed his rest. He stirred slowly and opened his optics to stare at the wall in confusion, wondering if he had heard something.
…he hadn’t been resting well lately. His optics started to drift shut.
Then the lights – his string lights – started blinking.
Skyfire jolted upright and turned around.
His mouth fell open and he stared in shock.
And then he started laughing.