Fic - Crack in the Mirror 13/15+
Title: Crack in the Mirror
Chapter: 13/15+
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty’s Dysfunction AU)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
This Chapter
Warnings: dark, gen
Characters: Onslaught, Vortex, Swindle, Brawl, Blast Off, Astrotrain, Octane
Summary: Onslaught’s day goes from bad to worse, and then he formulates a plan.
Crack in the Mirror - Chapter 13
Onslaught got up early. He liked to get his energon before the rest of the team would awake and hinder him from doing his work.
As expected, the rec-room was empty when he switched the lights on and took his ration - two thirds of a cube. It was more than some other times, and it made Onslaught angry. A new energon raid was due, and they still had this much, but Megatron didn't want to turn one of the most valuable Decepticons back into his true form.
Onslaught also hated to admit it that in his current frame, Blast Off wasn't as valuable as before.
A scowl built on his faceplates, but his stance and gestures didn't show any of his displeasure.
Octane would come in about two joors, and depending on how much energon the triple changer brought, Onslaught would press Megatron on the topic of Blast Off again. If the warlord was at least honest and said that the shuttleformer should remain in helicopter form because he liked the Combaticons weaker, then Onslaught was pretty sure he could get help from Starscream and even Soundwave because it also weakened the Decepticon forces overall.
This whole situation was ridiculous.
Onslaught shook his head, and headed to his office. There was work to do, training to arrange, and past battles to review. If Blast Off truly had to stay like this, he better got used to it, even if it meant Vortex had to help him, and give extra training.
---
About two joors had passed when Onslaught's communication equipment pinged.
He looked up, and frowned. It was Octane.
//What is it?// he asked, coming straight to the point.
//You're funny, aren't you? You gonna let me in or what? I've been waiting here for over a breem!//
Onslaught raised an optical ridge. //Blast Off should be there...// He'd given this task to the former shuttle the last evening. Onslaught thought it was better to integrate him back into the daily routine than let him think too much and sulk in his quarters.
//Yeah, well, he isn't.//
//Great. Wait there, I’ll send someone else.//
//Oh sure, because I haven't waited long enough already.//
Onslaught ignored the triple changer's last comm, and pinged Vortex. The 'copter was off duty, but Onslaught didn't care.
//Hey, hi Ons. What's up?// At least Vortex answered right away.
//Get outside and let Octane in to refill our energon storage.// There better not be a discussion, because Onslaught’s was not in the mood.
//Uh... sure. But what about Blast Off?//
//Nothing about him, go and do as I say. Now!//
//Wow, aren't you nice today...// It sounded as though Vortex wanted to say more, but the ‘copter cut the comm line after that.
Good for him, Onslaught thought, and stood up. The former shuttle really needed a good explanation now.
Blast Off's situation might be tough, but they all had to deal with it, and Onslaught wasn't about to make exceptions and handle him like some delicate piece of lab equipment.
His stern steps were loud in the hallway as he approached Blast Off's room. With no intention of knocking or pinging for access, Onslaught typed the overwrite code into the console. As soon as the light turned green, he pushed the button and stepped in.
"Blast Off!" It was a growl, accompanied by Onslaught's engine revving, but there was no answer, nor was there a mech partial to silence and privacy wincing.
The room was empty.
"This damned shuttle," Onslaught muttered to himself when he left the other’s quarters. He went to the control room, and opened a commink to Blast Off.
//Where are you?// His message was in a queue, and would ping Blast Off until he accepted it, but that the former shuttle wasn't answering right away made Onslaught even angrier.
He walked quickly past Swindle who greeted him with a nod, and looked after him in confusion. Onslaught knew it, but he wasn't about to explain his hurry. Not until he knew what was going on himself.
Impatiently, he typed onto the consoles, the big screen showing folders, data and files. He accessed the security records from last evening and night, choosing the camera that showed the hallway where Blast Off’s quarters were.
//Blast Off, do you read me?// Onslaught’s tone wasn’t worried, but pushy, demanding. He wanted to know where the former shuttle was, and why he was AWOL.
Again, Blast Off didn’t answer. But at least Onslaught found the part in the records when Blast Off had left his room. It’d been in the middle of the night, at 0130 Earth time. One of Onslaught’s hands clenched to a fist, the other typed quickly. He tracked the mech’s movements.
Blast Off had been in the hallways, walking towards the exit. The gate opened, and closed, and Onslaught switched to the outdoor camera. There he saw how Blast Off had transformed, and flown off.
The gestalt leader growled again. The commlink from his side was still open, and he knew unless Blast Off was in recharge or stasis, the constant pinging of his queue would drive him mad. Onslaught just wanted to send another urgent message, when Blast Off answered.
Well, sort of.
There weren’t any words, only static, but the former shuttle sent him coordinates. Coordinates that made Onslaught frown, and doubt himself for a fraction of an astrosecond. Swiftly, he typed them into the console, and a 3D image of Earth popped up, a red dot marking where Blast Off was.
It was the North Pole, or very close to it.
//Why, for frag’s sake are you at the North Pole? You’ll fly back now,// Onslaught’s anger mingled with confusion, and also restlessness, because Blast Off wasn’t a shuttle any more. The conditions of that place were dangerous for every planet bound mech.
//Can’t,// was the staticky reply, Blast Off’s voice sounding oddly hollow. Not flat, or blank, but faint in a way that predicted the worst.
//You’re an idiot!// Onslaught spat, but the former shuttle cut the commlink without saying anything more, not even giving an explanation.
Onslaught’s anger peaked, and he hit the control console much too hard. He slammed his hands down onto the keyboard, causing warnings to flash up on the screen, and random files to open.
His temper was seething while his fingers typed quickly as he established a connection to the Nemesis. He also sent another message to Blast Off, mostly to just annoy him.
The screen flickered, and a smaller window opened in the lower right corner.
Onslaught resisted groaning in annoyance.
“Starscream,” he said stiffly, and refused to scale up the screen. The seeker’s voice was bad enough, he didn’t need to see the disapproving expression as well.
“Onslaught, what can I do for you?” Starscream asked in an overly nice voice. Megatron had probably punished him for whatever he’d done this time, and now he had monitor duty. Served him right, Onslaught thought cynically, and was glad that the loyalty program wasn’t locked on Starscream.
“I need Astrotrain to bring Blast Off back to base.” It was better to keep it short, and Onslaught truly hoped Starscream wouldn’t ask why, and where the former shuttle was.
“Is that so? As far as I know, he still can fly. Why should we waste fuel like that?”
Of course, Starscream wouldn’t make this easy. But at least it was Starscream, and not Soundwave or even worse - one of his cassettes.
“He went AWOL last night, and doesn’t have the fuel to return.” While Onslaught wasn’t sure about Blast Off’s fuel level, he definitely knew that he was in no state to transform or fly back due to the cold. If the former shuttle suffered there, and if the energon in his lines was frozen and hurt him, then it was Blast Off’s own fault. Onslaught almost wished that it was like this, and it’d teach the new-build heliformer a lesson.
“It appears you still don’t have your team under control, Onslaught,” Starscream sighed in what had to be fake concern. “Send Vortex. He can bring your other heliformer back. This should also strengthen the team bonding, don’t you think?”
Oh, how Onslaught hated the seeker right now. The gestalt leader tensed more, and behind his visor his optics narrowed. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Blast Off is at the North Pole. He’ll be frozen dead when Vortex arrives. He sounded distressed on the comm, and Astrotrain can bring him back within a few breems. Will you send Astrotrain, or do I need to contact Megatron about that? I don’t think he’s very fond of losing the right arm of Bruticus.” It was hard to admit where Blast Off was, and even more to mention Megatron, but if Starscream wanted to make his life even more complicated, then Onslaught didn’t care.
Even on the smaller window the gestalt leader saw the seeker’s expression freeze, but it seemed Onslaught’s words had the desired effect.
“I’ll contact Astrotrain. Give me the coordinates. He’ll be on his way as soon as possible. He’ll comm you when he fetched your helicopter from the ice,” Starscream snarled. “I need to work now. And you better work on keeping your house in order!” The last words were spoken in a voice that would have been threatening if it wasn’t so high pitched, but Onslaught was still uneasy.
He merely nodded, then cut the connection to the Nemesis.
Yes, this whole situation grated on him.
Onslaught punched the wall next to the console once, then turned on his heel and walked out. He needed to check if Octane had brought the energon, and if Vortex hadn’t caused any trouble. He didn’t trust the ‘copter and the triple changer when they were together with energon.
---
Onslaught entered the rec-room, and saw Swindle and Brawl playing a game. The tank winced at the sight of him, and instantly started rambling.
“Oh, hey boss! Uh, I know I’m due for monitor duty, but Swin said you’re in the room and looked weird, and I didn’t know if I should come in or not, and so I didn’t, because-“
“Be quiet, Brawl!” Onslaught interrupted the tank bluntly.
“Uh… kay.”
Onslaught’s optics roved over to Vortex. The ‘copter stood next to the energon dispenser, a cube in his hand and legs casually crossed.
The dispenser looked okay, but this didn’t mean much. “The report,” Onslaught demanded, and Vortex nodded towards the table. The datapad lay next to the game the others were playing.
“Hmpf.” Onslaught took it, and skimmed over the data.
“You still don’t trust me on the energon refills?” Vortex asked, sounding hurt, but Onslaught knew he wasn’t.
“You stole several gallons of energon and tried to distil it to high grade. You almost blew our HQ up in the process. No, I still don’t trust you on the energon refills!” With the pad, Onslaught stepped to the panel next to the dispenser, behind the tank. He checked the level there, and nodded when it was the same as indicated on the datapad Megatron had sent with Octane.
“I’d have given you a few cubes of it, you know.” Again the mocking hurt tone, and Onslaught had the urge to slap the ‘copter. “Then when you don’t trust me, why didn’t you send Blast Off? Where is he anyway?”
By now, the commander knew Vortex’ games. It wasn’t a question asked casually; Vortex was very curious, and tried to hide it.
There was no reason not to be honest, though. “North Pole,” Onslaught replied shortly, and examined the datapad closer. Octane could have tinkered with it.
“Uhm… why?” It was Swindle who asked.
“I don’t know. But I fully intend to ask him when he comes back.”
“How-“
“Hey, North Pole!” Brawl interrupted Vortex, shouting excitedly, and probably grinned behind that mask. “Then he sees penguins, right?”
Two visors and one pair of optics stared at the tank who started shifting on his chair.
“I uh… think they’re funny. They walk so weird…”
“I see,” Onslaught responded dryly, but before he could say more, Brawl rambled once more.
“I saw a documentation once, you know. I thought something else would be aired, but I was kinda wrong and I only kept watching because they’re so funny. Hey, do you know why polar bears don’t eat penguins?”
At that, Brawl actually looked at Swindle, and Onslaught shook his head a little. Well, it seemed at least one of the team wasn’t very affected by the whole situation.
“Uh… no, why?”
Swindle glanced help seeking at the commander, but Onslaught just shrugged. Vortex’ shoulders and rotors trembled in what was most certainly laughter.
“I have no idea,” the tank continued cheerfully. “It’s some human joke, or so, but I don’t get it. I thought you might know because of you hu-“
“Brawl,” Swindle didn’t let the tank finish the sentence. “I think you should go to the control room. You’re on monitor duty after all, right?”
“Oh, yeah, right. On my way boss.” Brawl nodded once, took his still-full cube, and hurried out.
Swindle still stared at the unfinished game, trying to act like nothing had happened, but Onslaught knew exactly why the businessmech had stopped Brawl from saying more. Swindle had business contacts to several humans of which Onslaught didn’t approve.
He decided not to mention that now, however. The gestalt leader had enough problems to deal with, and as long as Swindle didn’t sell them for spare parts again, he tried not to be too annoyed by it.
“Vortex, I want you to clean the weapon locker. And Swindle, I’m still missing the report from the training three days ago. I want it in the evening.” Onslaught gave the orders and, fortunately, no one protested this time.
Except for Blast Off, Onslaught knew how to keep his house in order! He’d need to find a way how to deal with the former shuttle.
He left the rec-room and was on his way to his office when Astrotrain commed him.
//ETA 4.2 kliks.// That was all he said, but the commander valued the other’s lack of chatter. He changed his directed, and headed to the entrance.
---
Onslaught waited outside for Astrotrain to transform. The triple changer shuttle hovered over the base, the cargo hold open, while Blast Off stepped out and flew down.
When Astrotrain was in root mode as well, the noise of thrusters ebbed.
Blast Off approached Onslaught, he seemed tired, and the gestalt leader didn’t feel sorry for him. It was his own fault, and a stupid idea at that.
“You went AWOL,” Onslaught said coldly, his arms crossed.
“I did.” Blast Off’s voice was weird. It was as hollow as over the commline, and even out of character for someone as aloof as the former shuttle.
“That’s all you have to say?” Onslaught tensed. He wanted an explanation, and he wanted it without asking for one.
But apparently, he had to, because Blast Off kept quiet. He just looked in front of him, optics seemingly unfocused, emptily staring at Onslaught’s chest.
“Why did you go AWOL, and why to the North Pole of all places?” The commander’s growled question was accompanied with an engine rumble, and he was sure it would have even made Vortex back up.
But Blast Off didn’t move. And he didn’t answer. He just stood there in front of Onslaught, and made the gestalt leader’s temper boil.
“Answer me!” Another growl, more dangerous this time, but Blast Off didn’t even wince.
This insubordination and apparent apathy made Onslaught almost overlook that Blast Off had been a shuttleformer once. He was now smaller than him, the mutual respect forgotten for a moment when this whole situation got the better of him.
“Answer me!” Onslaught spat, and in his anger he forgot that they weren’t alone. He lashed out. His fist hit the heliformer’s face and caused Blast Off to stumble a step back.
It was then that Onslaught realised what he’d done, a dent on Blast Off’s cheek evidence of the punch. The surprise was only underlying, more present was the rage as Blast Off still didn’t react.
The former shuttle just stood there, now a little away from him, but still with a blank expression and no sign of wanting to reply. There wasn’t even tension in the smaller frame, which should have been there. Tension that always was there in Blast Off’s frame when he had to deal with people, even with Onslaught.
It wasn’t as though the heliformer seemed relaxed, he just appeared absent - like a mere drone.
It was worrisome, and Onslaught didn’t know how to deal with it other than shaking the mech, or slapping him again.
He restrained himself from doing so, and only glared at Blast Off.
“You’re dismissed, and restricted to your quarters. You’re not allowed to leave them before I say so, do you understand?” Onslaught’s voice was threatening, even if he didn’t know what he’d do to the mech if he left base again.
It was a surprise that Blast Off actually nodded at that. He didn’t look up, though. The former shuttle’s steps seemed even more exhausted than before. Onslaught clenched his hand to a fist, and hoped the mech wouldn’t become unconscious on the way. He wasn’t in the mood to pick him up again.
“You’re done?” Astrotrain asked when Blast Off had gone inside; the sudden voice made Onslaught wince.
The triple changer came closer, and the gestalt leader eyed him suspiciously. “What are you still doing here?”
He didn’t like other people seeing the trouble his team sometimes had, whether it was them working together, or just getting along in general.
“Megatron wants a report ASAP.” Astrotrain shrugged, and held a datapad out to him. “Soundwave’s already written a bit and you only need fill some parts.”
With an annoyed grunt, Onslaught took the pad and activated it. He typed on it, then read what was already written there while Astrotrain waited, his arms crossed.
“Because it was more like space,” the triple changer said out of the blue, startling the commander.
“What?” Onslaught’s optics narrowed behind the visor as he looked up.
“The reason why Blast Off was at the North Pole. Because the air is cooler and clearer, it’s more like space. And there’s the Aurora Borealis.”
Onslaught frowned. Northern Lights - he knew Blast Off liked to see them from space, so it made sense. It was still irritating that Blast Off had seemed to speak to Astrotrain but now to him.
“Did you ask him, or did he tell you by himself?”
“He didn’t say anything. But if I couldn’t go to space for a while, the poles are the places I’d go.”
“I see.” Onslaught looked back at the datapad, and continued typing.
Astrotrain let him work for a bit longer than a klik, before he broke the silence once more.
“You’re going to lose him.”
This time, Onslaught kept his optic on the pad. This was unnerving in itself, he didn’t need some triple changer putting his nose in their team business. “Is that so?” he asked, challenging the other. Who knew, maybe Astrotrain had something useful to say, although the gestalt leader doubted it.
The triple changer’s intakes vented air loudly. “I’m just saying that he needs his old frame back.”
“So, and why is that? You think he’s going to commit suicide, or what?” Considering what Blast Off had just done today, it wasn’t really false to expect that. The other’s reply was still a surprise.
“Not actively, but like I said, you’re going to lose him.”
At that, the commander glanced up once more. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
Astrotrain shrugged. “You’ve seen him. He’s not right. It’s not his fault, though, it’s his frame. His processor and the frame aren’t compatible, and they never will be, no matter how much time passes.”
“And you know that how?”
“Because I’ve seen it on Cybertron before.” This time, the triple changer’s voice was irritated as well as bitter. “Shuttleformers are called subspecies for a reason.”
Onslaught frowned. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t believe Astrotrain, it was more that he worried the triple changer was right.
He filled the last parts of the form, and deactivated it. “Why do you care anyway?” Onslaught gave Astrotrain the pad back.
“He’s a friend.”
Onslaught couldn’t suppress the amused huff and dry snort. “Blast Off doesn’t have friends.”
He got a huff in return, and a shake of the triple changer’s head. “Well, that’s what he says.” Astrotrain nodded, and turned. He lazily raised a hand in a goodbye wave, and added. “Take care of your team.” Then, Astrotrain took off.
Onslaught kept standing there for another moment, tense, and angry, but also afraid.
He'd need to keep an optic on the former shuttle.
---
The door of Onslaught’s office opened without a knock or a ping.
The commander grunted, but didn’t bother to scold Vortex when he stepped in.
“Sit down.”
Nothing in the ‘copter’s movements or gesture revealed how he felt about this. After Astrotrain had gone, Onslaught had summoned Vortex without saying anything about why.
“So, what’s up?” The ‘copter sat down casually, and slouched on the chair.
“Sit straight!” The commander had no patience for Vortex’ misbehaviour.
“Heh, make me.”
An anti-aircraft engine revved loudly, and Onslaught’s visor brighten. “I’m not in the mood. Sit straight!”
“Wow, aren’t you testy today,” Vortex muttered, and slowly rearranged himself to sit there like a normal Cybertronian. “If you don’t wanna frag, then what do you want?”
The gestalt leader resisted to snort a laugh. Apparently the other came with the wrong expectations. Though, Onslaught was sure that Vortex wouldn’t be disappointed for long if he got to know his task.
He pinged the ‘copter for a data transfer, and Vortex accepted, tilting his head. Then, after an astrosecond, the red visor lit up.
“Is that…?”
“Yes,” Onslaught confirmed, “it’s the base’s override key code. I want you to keep an optic on Blast Off.”
“Uh, okay.” Vortex shrugged, and continued with an amused voice. “You’re afraid he’s going to fly to the South Pole the next time?”
“I don’t know where he could go, and I don’t care. I want him to stay in his room, and you’re going to ensure he will.”
“And you gave me the code for what exactly?”
“Like I said, keep an optic on him, and do so in his quarters. I gave you the code because I don’t think he’s going to open the door for you.” Onslaught leant back, and crossed his arms. “Don’t get too excited about the code, though. You know the system logs every time and location when and where it’s used, and I will change it soon.”
Vortex’ visor flickered. “Woah, wait. How long do you want me to stay with Blast Off?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As what takes?”
“That’s what you’re going to tell me.”
The ‘copter sat still, and rotor blades stopped quivering. “What is this about?”
Onslaught’s vents heaved air loudly in an exhausted sigh. “I want you to test him. He’s acting out of character, and I want to know why, or what it takes to make him act normal again.”
Onslaught saw Vortex’ gears working, then the visor flickered. “You’re giving me the order to annoy Blast Off? What if he’s going to shoot me?”
“If he shoots you, then it means he’s fine. Don’t pretend it would matter to you. And yes, that’s basically what I want you to do. I want you to find out what’s wrong, and how we can change it. I want a result quickly.”
Vortex nodded, but the rotors didn’t tremble as Onslaught had expected. “What if there’s no easy way to make him act normal again?”
The gestalt leader tensed. He knew what Vortex meant by that, and he didn’t like the implications. “We'll burn that bridge when we come to it. Dismissed.”
With a last nod, Vortex stood up and left.
Also posted here
Chapter: 13/15+
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty’s Dysfunction AU)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty
This Chapter
Warnings: dark, gen
Characters: Onslaught, Vortex, Swindle, Brawl, Blast Off, Astrotrain, Octane
Summary: Onslaught’s day goes from bad to worse, and then he formulates a plan.
Crack in the Mirror - Chapter 13
Onslaught got up early. He liked to get his energon before the rest of the team would awake and hinder him from doing his work.
As expected, the rec-room was empty when he switched the lights on and took his ration - two thirds of a cube. It was more than some other times, and it made Onslaught angry. A new energon raid was due, and they still had this much, but Megatron didn't want to turn one of the most valuable Decepticons back into his true form.
Onslaught also hated to admit it that in his current frame, Blast Off wasn't as valuable as before.
A scowl built on his faceplates, but his stance and gestures didn't show any of his displeasure.
Octane would come in about two joors, and depending on how much energon the triple changer brought, Onslaught would press Megatron on the topic of Blast Off again. If the warlord was at least honest and said that the shuttleformer should remain in helicopter form because he liked the Combaticons weaker, then Onslaught was pretty sure he could get help from Starscream and even Soundwave because it also weakened the Decepticon forces overall.
This whole situation was ridiculous.
Onslaught shook his head, and headed to his office. There was work to do, training to arrange, and past battles to review. If Blast Off truly had to stay like this, he better got used to it, even if it meant Vortex had to help him, and give extra training.
---
About two joors had passed when Onslaught's communication equipment pinged.
He looked up, and frowned. It was Octane.
//What is it?// he asked, coming straight to the point.
//You're funny, aren't you? You gonna let me in or what? I've been waiting here for over a breem!//
Onslaught raised an optical ridge. //Blast Off should be there...// He'd given this task to the former shuttle the last evening. Onslaught thought it was better to integrate him back into the daily routine than let him think too much and sulk in his quarters.
//Yeah, well, he isn't.//
//Great. Wait there, I’ll send someone else.//
//Oh sure, because I haven't waited long enough already.//
Onslaught ignored the triple changer's last comm, and pinged Vortex. The 'copter was off duty, but Onslaught didn't care.
//Hey, hi Ons. What's up?// At least Vortex answered right away.
//Get outside and let Octane in to refill our energon storage.// There better not be a discussion, because Onslaught’s was not in the mood.
//Uh... sure. But what about Blast Off?//
//Nothing about him, go and do as I say. Now!//
//Wow, aren't you nice today...// It sounded as though Vortex wanted to say more, but the ‘copter cut the comm line after that.
Good for him, Onslaught thought, and stood up. The former shuttle really needed a good explanation now.
Blast Off's situation might be tough, but they all had to deal with it, and Onslaught wasn't about to make exceptions and handle him like some delicate piece of lab equipment.
His stern steps were loud in the hallway as he approached Blast Off's room. With no intention of knocking or pinging for access, Onslaught typed the overwrite code into the console. As soon as the light turned green, he pushed the button and stepped in.
"Blast Off!" It was a growl, accompanied by Onslaught's engine revving, but there was no answer, nor was there a mech partial to silence and privacy wincing.
The room was empty.
"This damned shuttle," Onslaught muttered to himself when he left the other’s quarters. He went to the control room, and opened a commink to Blast Off.
//Where are you?// His message was in a queue, and would ping Blast Off until he accepted it, but that the former shuttle wasn't answering right away made Onslaught even angrier.
He walked quickly past Swindle who greeted him with a nod, and looked after him in confusion. Onslaught knew it, but he wasn't about to explain his hurry. Not until he knew what was going on himself.
Impatiently, he typed onto the consoles, the big screen showing folders, data and files. He accessed the security records from last evening and night, choosing the camera that showed the hallway where Blast Off’s quarters were.
//Blast Off, do you read me?// Onslaught’s tone wasn’t worried, but pushy, demanding. He wanted to know where the former shuttle was, and why he was AWOL.
Again, Blast Off didn’t answer. But at least Onslaught found the part in the records when Blast Off had left his room. It’d been in the middle of the night, at 0130 Earth time. One of Onslaught’s hands clenched to a fist, the other typed quickly. He tracked the mech’s movements.
Blast Off had been in the hallways, walking towards the exit. The gate opened, and closed, and Onslaught switched to the outdoor camera. There he saw how Blast Off had transformed, and flown off.
The gestalt leader growled again. The commlink from his side was still open, and he knew unless Blast Off was in recharge or stasis, the constant pinging of his queue would drive him mad. Onslaught just wanted to send another urgent message, when Blast Off answered.
Well, sort of.
There weren’t any words, only static, but the former shuttle sent him coordinates. Coordinates that made Onslaught frown, and doubt himself for a fraction of an astrosecond. Swiftly, he typed them into the console, and a 3D image of Earth popped up, a red dot marking where Blast Off was.
It was the North Pole, or very close to it.
//Why, for frag’s sake are you at the North Pole? You’ll fly back now,// Onslaught’s anger mingled with confusion, and also restlessness, because Blast Off wasn’t a shuttle any more. The conditions of that place were dangerous for every planet bound mech.
//Can’t,// was the staticky reply, Blast Off’s voice sounding oddly hollow. Not flat, or blank, but faint in a way that predicted the worst.
//You’re an idiot!// Onslaught spat, but the former shuttle cut the commlink without saying anything more, not even giving an explanation.
Onslaught’s anger peaked, and he hit the control console much too hard. He slammed his hands down onto the keyboard, causing warnings to flash up on the screen, and random files to open.
His temper was seething while his fingers typed quickly as he established a connection to the Nemesis. He also sent another message to Blast Off, mostly to just annoy him.
The screen flickered, and a smaller window opened in the lower right corner.
Onslaught resisted groaning in annoyance.
“Starscream,” he said stiffly, and refused to scale up the screen. The seeker’s voice was bad enough, he didn’t need to see the disapproving expression as well.
“Onslaught, what can I do for you?” Starscream asked in an overly nice voice. Megatron had probably punished him for whatever he’d done this time, and now he had monitor duty. Served him right, Onslaught thought cynically, and was glad that the loyalty program wasn’t locked on Starscream.
“I need Astrotrain to bring Blast Off back to base.” It was better to keep it short, and Onslaught truly hoped Starscream wouldn’t ask why, and where the former shuttle was.
“Is that so? As far as I know, he still can fly. Why should we waste fuel like that?”
Of course, Starscream wouldn’t make this easy. But at least it was Starscream, and not Soundwave or even worse - one of his cassettes.
“He went AWOL last night, and doesn’t have the fuel to return.” While Onslaught wasn’t sure about Blast Off’s fuel level, he definitely knew that he was in no state to transform or fly back due to the cold. If the former shuttle suffered there, and if the energon in his lines was frozen and hurt him, then it was Blast Off’s own fault. Onslaught almost wished that it was like this, and it’d teach the new-build heliformer a lesson.
“It appears you still don’t have your team under control, Onslaught,” Starscream sighed in what had to be fake concern. “Send Vortex. He can bring your other heliformer back. This should also strengthen the team bonding, don’t you think?”
Oh, how Onslaught hated the seeker right now. The gestalt leader tensed more, and behind his visor his optics narrowed. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Blast Off is at the North Pole. He’ll be frozen dead when Vortex arrives. He sounded distressed on the comm, and Astrotrain can bring him back within a few breems. Will you send Astrotrain, or do I need to contact Megatron about that? I don’t think he’s very fond of losing the right arm of Bruticus.” It was hard to admit where Blast Off was, and even more to mention Megatron, but if Starscream wanted to make his life even more complicated, then Onslaught didn’t care.
Even on the smaller window the gestalt leader saw the seeker’s expression freeze, but it seemed Onslaught’s words had the desired effect.
“I’ll contact Astrotrain. Give me the coordinates. He’ll be on his way as soon as possible. He’ll comm you when he fetched your helicopter from the ice,” Starscream snarled. “I need to work now. And you better work on keeping your house in order!” The last words were spoken in a voice that would have been threatening if it wasn’t so high pitched, but Onslaught was still uneasy.
He merely nodded, then cut the connection to the Nemesis.
Yes, this whole situation grated on him.
Onslaught punched the wall next to the console once, then turned on his heel and walked out. He needed to check if Octane had brought the energon, and if Vortex hadn’t caused any trouble. He didn’t trust the ‘copter and the triple changer when they were together with energon.
---
Onslaught entered the rec-room, and saw Swindle and Brawl playing a game. The tank winced at the sight of him, and instantly started rambling.
“Oh, hey boss! Uh, I know I’m due for monitor duty, but Swin said you’re in the room and looked weird, and I didn’t know if I should come in or not, and so I didn’t, because-“
“Be quiet, Brawl!” Onslaught interrupted the tank bluntly.
“Uh… kay.”
Onslaught’s optics roved over to Vortex. The ‘copter stood next to the energon dispenser, a cube in his hand and legs casually crossed.
The dispenser looked okay, but this didn’t mean much. “The report,” Onslaught demanded, and Vortex nodded towards the table. The datapad lay next to the game the others were playing.
“Hmpf.” Onslaught took it, and skimmed over the data.
“You still don’t trust me on the energon refills?” Vortex asked, sounding hurt, but Onslaught knew he wasn’t.
“You stole several gallons of energon and tried to distil it to high grade. You almost blew our HQ up in the process. No, I still don’t trust you on the energon refills!” With the pad, Onslaught stepped to the panel next to the dispenser, behind the tank. He checked the level there, and nodded when it was the same as indicated on the datapad Megatron had sent with Octane.
“I’d have given you a few cubes of it, you know.” Again the mocking hurt tone, and Onslaught had the urge to slap the ‘copter. “Then when you don’t trust me, why didn’t you send Blast Off? Where is he anyway?”
By now, the commander knew Vortex’ games. It wasn’t a question asked casually; Vortex was very curious, and tried to hide it.
There was no reason not to be honest, though. “North Pole,” Onslaught replied shortly, and examined the datapad closer. Octane could have tinkered with it.
“Uhm… why?” It was Swindle who asked.
“I don’t know. But I fully intend to ask him when he comes back.”
“How-“
“Hey, North Pole!” Brawl interrupted Vortex, shouting excitedly, and probably grinned behind that mask. “Then he sees penguins, right?”
Two visors and one pair of optics stared at the tank who started shifting on his chair.
“I uh… think they’re funny. They walk so weird…”
“I see,” Onslaught responded dryly, but before he could say more, Brawl rambled once more.
“I saw a documentation once, you know. I thought something else would be aired, but I was kinda wrong and I only kept watching because they’re so funny. Hey, do you know why polar bears don’t eat penguins?”
At that, Brawl actually looked at Swindle, and Onslaught shook his head a little. Well, it seemed at least one of the team wasn’t very affected by the whole situation.
“Uh… no, why?”
Swindle glanced help seeking at the commander, but Onslaught just shrugged. Vortex’ shoulders and rotors trembled in what was most certainly laughter.
“I have no idea,” the tank continued cheerfully. “It’s some human joke, or so, but I don’t get it. I thought you might know because of you hu-“
“Brawl,” Swindle didn’t let the tank finish the sentence. “I think you should go to the control room. You’re on monitor duty after all, right?”
“Oh, yeah, right. On my way boss.” Brawl nodded once, took his still-full cube, and hurried out.
Swindle still stared at the unfinished game, trying to act like nothing had happened, but Onslaught knew exactly why the businessmech had stopped Brawl from saying more. Swindle had business contacts to several humans of which Onslaught didn’t approve.
He decided not to mention that now, however. The gestalt leader had enough problems to deal with, and as long as Swindle didn’t sell them for spare parts again, he tried not to be too annoyed by it.
“Vortex, I want you to clean the weapon locker. And Swindle, I’m still missing the report from the training three days ago. I want it in the evening.” Onslaught gave the orders and, fortunately, no one protested this time.
Except for Blast Off, Onslaught knew how to keep his house in order! He’d need to find a way how to deal with the former shuttle.
He left the rec-room and was on his way to his office when Astrotrain commed him.
//ETA 4.2 kliks.// That was all he said, but the commander valued the other’s lack of chatter. He changed his directed, and headed to the entrance.
---
Onslaught waited outside for Astrotrain to transform. The triple changer shuttle hovered over the base, the cargo hold open, while Blast Off stepped out and flew down.
When Astrotrain was in root mode as well, the noise of thrusters ebbed.
Blast Off approached Onslaught, he seemed tired, and the gestalt leader didn’t feel sorry for him. It was his own fault, and a stupid idea at that.
“You went AWOL,” Onslaught said coldly, his arms crossed.
“I did.” Blast Off’s voice was weird. It was as hollow as over the commline, and even out of character for someone as aloof as the former shuttle.
“That’s all you have to say?” Onslaught tensed. He wanted an explanation, and he wanted it without asking for one.
But apparently, he had to, because Blast Off kept quiet. He just looked in front of him, optics seemingly unfocused, emptily staring at Onslaught’s chest.
“Why did you go AWOL, and why to the North Pole of all places?” The commander’s growled question was accompanied with an engine rumble, and he was sure it would have even made Vortex back up.
But Blast Off didn’t move. And he didn’t answer. He just stood there in front of Onslaught, and made the gestalt leader’s temper boil.
“Answer me!” Another growl, more dangerous this time, but Blast Off didn’t even wince.
This insubordination and apparent apathy made Onslaught almost overlook that Blast Off had been a shuttleformer once. He was now smaller than him, the mutual respect forgotten for a moment when this whole situation got the better of him.
“Answer me!” Onslaught spat, and in his anger he forgot that they weren’t alone. He lashed out. His fist hit the heliformer’s face and caused Blast Off to stumble a step back.
It was then that Onslaught realised what he’d done, a dent on Blast Off’s cheek evidence of the punch. The surprise was only underlying, more present was the rage as Blast Off still didn’t react.
The former shuttle just stood there, now a little away from him, but still with a blank expression and no sign of wanting to reply. There wasn’t even tension in the smaller frame, which should have been there. Tension that always was there in Blast Off’s frame when he had to deal with people, even with Onslaught.
It wasn’t as though the heliformer seemed relaxed, he just appeared absent - like a mere drone.
It was worrisome, and Onslaught didn’t know how to deal with it other than shaking the mech, or slapping him again.
He restrained himself from doing so, and only glared at Blast Off.
“You’re dismissed, and restricted to your quarters. You’re not allowed to leave them before I say so, do you understand?” Onslaught’s voice was threatening, even if he didn’t know what he’d do to the mech if he left base again.
It was a surprise that Blast Off actually nodded at that. He didn’t look up, though. The former shuttle’s steps seemed even more exhausted than before. Onslaught clenched his hand to a fist, and hoped the mech wouldn’t become unconscious on the way. He wasn’t in the mood to pick him up again.
“You’re done?” Astrotrain asked when Blast Off had gone inside; the sudden voice made Onslaught wince.
The triple changer came closer, and the gestalt leader eyed him suspiciously. “What are you still doing here?”
He didn’t like other people seeing the trouble his team sometimes had, whether it was them working together, or just getting along in general.
“Megatron wants a report ASAP.” Astrotrain shrugged, and held a datapad out to him. “Soundwave’s already written a bit and you only need fill some parts.”
With an annoyed grunt, Onslaught took the pad and activated it. He typed on it, then read what was already written there while Astrotrain waited, his arms crossed.
“Because it was more like space,” the triple changer said out of the blue, startling the commander.
“What?” Onslaught’s optics narrowed behind the visor as he looked up.
“The reason why Blast Off was at the North Pole. Because the air is cooler and clearer, it’s more like space. And there’s the Aurora Borealis.”
Onslaught frowned. Northern Lights - he knew Blast Off liked to see them from space, so it made sense. It was still irritating that Blast Off had seemed to speak to Astrotrain but now to him.
“Did you ask him, or did he tell you by himself?”
“He didn’t say anything. But if I couldn’t go to space for a while, the poles are the places I’d go.”
“I see.” Onslaught looked back at the datapad, and continued typing.
Astrotrain let him work for a bit longer than a klik, before he broke the silence once more.
“You’re going to lose him.”
This time, Onslaught kept his optic on the pad. This was unnerving in itself, he didn’t need some triple changer putting his nose in their team business. “Is that so?” he asked, challenging the other. Who knew, maybe Astrotrain had something useful to say, although the gestalt leader doubted it.
The triple changer’s intakes vented air loudly. “I’m just saying that he needs his old frame back.”
“So, and why is that? You think he’s going to commit suicide, or what?” Considering what Blast Off had just done today, it wasn’t really false to expect that. The other’s reply was still a surprise.
“Not actively, but like I said, you’re going to lose him.”
At that, the commander glanced up once more. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
Astrotrain shrugged. “You’ve seen him. He’s not right. It’s not his fault, though, it’s his frame. His processor and the frame aren’t compatible, and they never will be, no matter how much time passes.”
“And you know that how?”
“Because I’ve seen it on Cybertron before.” This time, the triple changer’s voice was irritated as well as bitter. “Shuttleformers are called subspecies for a reason.”
Onslaught frowned. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t believe Astrotrain, it was more that he worried the triple changer was right.
He filled the last parts of the form, and deactivated it. “Why do you care anyway?” Onslaught gave Astrotrain the pad back.
“He’s a friend.”
Onslaught couldn’t suppress the amused huff and dry snort. “Blast Off doesn’t have friends.”
He got a huff in return, and a shake of the triple changer’s head. “Well, that’s what he says.” Astrotrain nodded, and turned. He lazily raised a hand in a goodbye wave, and added. “Take care of your team.” Then, Astrotrain took off.
Onslaught kept standing there for another moment, tense, and angry, but also afraid.
He'd need to keep an optic on the former shuttle.
---
The door of Onslaught’s office opened without a knock or a ping.
The commander grunted, but didn’t bother to scold Vortex when he stepped in.
“Sit down.”
Nothing in the ‘copter’s movements or gesture revealed how he felt about this. After Astrotrain had gone, Onslaught had summoned Vortex without saying anything about why.
“So, what’s up?” The ‘copter sat down casually, and slouched on the chair.
“Sit straight!” The commander had no patience for Vortex’ misbehaviour.
“Heh, make me.”
An anti-aircraft engine revved loudly, and Onslaught’s visor brighten. “I’m not in the mood. Sit straight!”
“Wow, aren’t you testy today,” Vortex muttered, and slowly rearranged himself to sit there like a normal Cybertronian. “If you don’t wanna frag, then what do you want?”
The gestalt leader resisted to snort a laugh. Apparently the other came with the wrong expectations. Though, Onslaught was sure that Vortex wouldn’t be disappointed for long if he got to know his task.
He pinged the ‘copter for a data transfer, and Vortex accepted, tilting his head. Then, after an astrosecond, the red visor lit up.
“Is that…?”
“Yes,” Onslaught confirmed, “it’s the base’s override key code. I want you to keep an optic on Blast Off.”
“Uh, okay.” Vortex shrugged, and continued with an amused voice. “You’re afraid he’s going to fly to the South Pole the next time?”
“I don’t know where he could go, and I don’t care. I want him to stay in his room, and you’re going to ensure he will.”
“And you gave me the code for what exactly?”
“Like I said, keep an optic on him, and do so in his quarters. I gave you the code because I don’t think he’s going to open the door for you.” Onslaught leant back, and crossed his arms. “Don’t get too excited about the code, though. You know the system logs every time and location when and where it’s used, and I will change it soon.”
Vortex’ visor flickered. “Woah, wait. How long do you want me to stay with Blast Off?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As what takes?”
“That’s what you’re going to tell me.”
The ‘copter sat still, and rotor blades stopped quivering. “What is this about?”
Onslaught’s vents heaved air loudly in an exhausted sigh. “I want you to test him. He’s acting out of character, and I want to know why, or what it takes to make him act normal again.”
Onslaught saw Vortex’ gears working, then the visor flickered. “You’re giving me the order to annoy Blast Off? What if he’s going to shoot me?”
“If he shoots you, then it means he’s fine. Don’t pretend it would matter to you. And yes, that’s basically what I want you to do. I want you to find out what’s wrong, and how we can change it. I want a result quickly.”
Vortex nodded, but the rotors didn’t tremble as Onslaught had expected. “What if there’s no easy way to make him act normal again?”
The gestalt leader tensed. He knew what Vortex meant by that, and he didn’t like the implications. “We'll burn that bridge when we come to it. Dismissed.”
With a last nod, Vortex stood up and left.
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