Chapter Text
Thundercracker fought not to twitch his wings as Prowl picked at a particularly deep seam. It didn't hurt—far from it—but the sensation made it hard to keep still. Solvent ran over both of them, washing away the dirt that Prowl picked out.
"Are you done yet?" Thundercracker asked, calmly—he definitely wasn't whining.
"Nowhere close," Prowl said, moving on to another seam. "You only fly once a decacycle. How do you get so dirty?"
As Prowl dug deeper into the seam, Thundercracker couldn't resist it. His wing twitched.
"Keep your wings still!" Prowl said.
"Sorry," Thundercracker said.
Prowl was supposed to go out on the next mission. Thundercracker had asked to spend time with him, and he'd obliged. This wasn't what Thundercracker had really meant when he asked, but any time with him was important. Thundercracker never knew if he would come back.
Except…
"I'm twenty vorns now," Thundercracker said. "You told me I could finally take the badge when I reached twenty."
Prowl paused. "Not twenty yet. You haven't had your Finding Cycle anniversary."
"You're so specific," Thundercracker grumbled. "It's only a few cycles away."
Prowl moved on to the other wing. "And so is the time when you get spark pains. I don't want you taking the brand so close to it. Do you have your medicine?"
Thundercracker tapped the glass of his cockpit, where both the pain patches Ratchet gave him and the energeon candies Prowl gave him rested. Ever since the first time, Prowl always gave him candies to eat during the decacycle and a half he usually spent in too much pain to move. Thundercracker didn't dislike the taste, but he started to associate them with the haziness that the extra strong pain patches brought on.
"I picked it up earlier," he said.
"Good," Prowl said.
He pulled away and turned off the solvent, finally done with cleaning. He tossed Thundercracker a towel and took one for himself. The two slowly dried themselves off. The moment they were both dry, Prowl was at Thundercracker's side again, reaching up under his chin.
Thundercracker leaned down, resting his chin on Prowl's hand. Prowl smiled.
"Guard the base for me while we're gone," he said.
He always said that. The first time, Thundercracker took it seriously. Now, he knew it was meant to distract him.
"I will," Thundercracker lied, having no intention of staying at the base.
!!!
The mission group had left a while ago. Thundercracker walked through the halls, heading toward the exit. The mecha on duty at the controls waved to him. He waved back.
"Mind opening the doors?" He asked. "I want to go for a flight."
One of the mecha nodded, pressing a button on the control panel. The door slid up, clanging as it folded. Thundercracker shot the mecha a smile before leaving. The door shut behind him.
He waited until this time knowing that the shifts had just changed. The mecha at the door now didn't know he'd already had his flight that decacycle, and wouldn't realize until they exchanged shifts with the other set. Thundercracker would be long gone.
With a leap, Thundercracker took off. He flew in root mode for a while before transforming, enjoying the air beneath his wings. Although he rarely traveled anywhere, he had a general sense of where the others went. Maps were easy to read as long as they were well made, and Prowl had plenty of them in his office.
After that, it was a matter of watching and listening for chaos. Thundercracker had to stop a few times, chugging one of the cubes he stuffed into his cockpit before taking a quick nap, but only because the others had traveled so far. With the power of flight, he could catch up to them with ease.
And, eventually, he did. He heard the battle before he saw it—a combination of the screech of metal, the cacophony of weaponfire, the scream of objects in flight, and the howls of injured and angered mecha. He approached carefully, knowing that the moment he was seen, it was over. But he could take shots from the sidelines. That was what the big ray guns on his shoulders were for.
So, Thundercracker curled up on the edge of a nearby cliff and charged his guns. He prepared himself to shoot, but froze as he scanned the battlefield. He knew Seekers could fly. That was one of the many things he was told about them.
They had sharp dentae and even sharper claws. They had wings that stretched to the sky. Their optics, able to focus across impossible distances, gleamed with malice. Their alt modes soared through the sky, bulky yet somehow swifter than any land mode.
One flew by. It matched all of the descriptions he heard. Large, bulky, and fast. A yellow and red blur launched itself at the Seeker. Sunstreaker clung onto its back, jetpack exuding smoke from recent use. The Seeker unfolded into its root mode with an shrieking cry.
Thundercracker's spark seized. It looked just like him—the same dentae, the same claws, the same wings, same rays.
Sunstreaker yelled as the Seeker stabbed its claws into him and threw him off. Shaking away the unwanted realization, Thundercracker leaped off the cliff. He dove toward Sunstreaker, catching the mech just before he could hit the ground. Gently, Thundercracker lowered him to the ground.
Sunstreaker's optics dimmed. Energeon coated his chestplates, leaking from both fresh and old wounds. With the speed it was leaking, the Seeker must've gotten a major fuel line. Desperately, Thundercracker searched his memory banks for his field training. What was he supposed to do?
The air whipped around him as the Seeker landed. It was small—at least, smaller than Thundercracker. Its plating was magenta and pale gray. It stared down at him with scarlet optics. Then, it spoke.
It wasn't Common. It wasn't even words. It didn't even open its mouth to talk. The Seeker gestured emphatically, wings twitching and flicking, as it whistled, clicked, and chattered. The noise was almost songlike.
Thundercracker curled himself over Sunstreaker, fanning out his wings as he rattled them. He puffed his plating out and bared his dentae. The Seeker paused, staring.
"Go away!" Thundercracker hissed.
The Seeker whistled again, face scrunching. It was quiet, almost as if speaking to itself. The air prickled with irritation. It looked at him again, finally opening its mouth.
"No sigil," it said. "Who are you?"
It could talk?
"Go away!" Thundercracker said again.
The Seeker took a step closer.
"Who are you?" It demanded.
Thundercracker growled deep from his engine. The Seeker was undeterred, continuing its approach. Then, the growl changed. Something inside of Thundercracker sparked to life. His audials cut out as his surroundings vibrated.
The Seeker hopped backward. Thundercracker summoned whatever that was again, shaking the ground. The Seeker retreated further with a hiss, the air around it prickling with frustration. It whistled something to itself and then leaped, ascending to the sky.
Thundercracker turned back toward Sunstreaker. With the Seeker gone, he was left with the same problem as before: what was he supposed to do?
!!!
Thundercracker clacked his claws together as he waited outside of the medbay. Ratchet said Sunstreaker would be alright, but would he really? He lost so much energeon. Thundercracker closed his optics, shuddering as the phantom sensation of warm energeon on his hands washed over him. He needed to think of something else.
His processor drifted toward the Seekers. They looked just like him. Was he one of them? Was that why everyone was so anxious when he talked about joining the fight? Was that why they wanted him to stay at the base?
If he was a Seeker, how could they stand to see him? When they came back from a mission, did they ever look at him and think of the monsters they'd just fought? How did he end up here if all of the other Seekers were their enemies? No one had ever mentioned an Autobot Seeker… except for him.
The medbay door opened. Thundercracker startled, narrowly avoiding hitting his helm on the ceiling. Ratchet stared for a moment as Thundercracker calmed himself.
"Sunstreaker is stable and awake. You can see him now," Ratchet said.
Thundercracker squeezed through the doorway, following Ratchet. The medic led him to one of the many curtain-protected berths in the room. Careful not to get his wings caught or hit the frame with his helm, Thundercracker stepped through the curtain.
Sideswipe sat on a seat next to the berth. On the berth laid Sunstreaker, cushioning placed under his upper half to prop him up. He waved at Thundercracker, a small smile on his face. Despite the amount of energeon he lost, the patches on his chest were quite small.
"Hey," Sunstreaker said.
"Hi," Thundercracker replied.
He stared, dumbly, at Sunstreaker. He was alive. Thundercracker had kept him that way. If he hadn't been there, would that Seeker have—?
The curtain rustled. Thundercracker fought to keep his wings still as they tried to shoot up in alert.
"Thundercracker!" A very familiar voice said.
"Hey, Prowl!" Sunstreaker said.
Prowl glanced at him. "Hello."
He turned back toward Thundercracker. Irritation rolled from him as his doors twitched.
"Thundercracker!" He said again.
Thundercracker's wings lowered. He knew that tone. But if he hadn't been there…
"Yeah?" He said.
"I told you to stay at the base!" Prowl said.
Thundercracker forced himself to stand taller. He knew this was coming.
"And where would Sunstreaker be if I did?" He said.
Prowl glared at him. "Sunstreaker knows the risks."
Thundercracker's wings twitched. Sure, he knew the risks, but so did Thundercracker! Why keep him from coming along? Why be angry at him for saving Sunstreaker's life? The answer came to him quickly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Thundercracker said.
Prowl froze, the doors on his shoulders rising. He flinched.
"Tell you what, exactly?" He said.
"That I'm a Seeker!" Thundercracker said. "That you never planned to let me take the badge because of it!"
Prowl closed his optics. His doorwings fell.
"Thundercracker," he said. "It wasn't my intention to—"
"There's a reason."
Both mecha froze as Ratchet poked his helm through the curtain. He entered with a scowl on his face.
"You're a Seeker, yes," Ratchet said. "And you belong among them. The plan was always to send you back to them."
Send him back? Thundercracker's wings twitched. The Seekers were their enemies! How could they do that?
Prowl turned toward Ratchet, baring his dentae with a hiss, "Ratchet—!"
"You are the only mech among us who has a chance at joining the Seekers," Ratchet said, optics meeting Thundercracker's. "The only one of us who can take them down from the inside. This war will destroy us. You saw it yourself. If you want to save lives, that's the way to do it."
It made sense. Only a Seeker could join the Seekers. They kept him away because they didn't want to ruin his chances of infiltration.
"Ratchet!" Prowl hissed again.
Ratchet put a hand on his shoulder.
"Twenty vorns," Ratchet said. "I told you I'd hold you to it."
"He's not ready—!"
This was the plan from the start, wasn't it? Was that why Prowl took him in? It should've been upsetting. He should've felt cheated or lied to. Instead, Thundercracker puffed up his plating. Finally, he had an explanation for everything, and he was even more important than he realized.
"I'll do it!" He said. "Send me out!"
Prowl froze, mouth hanging open. Ratchet snorted.
"Seems ready to me," he said.
!!!
Thundercracker coasted on the air, keeping careful track of his location. The Autobots didn't know where the Seeker base was, but they knew the general areas the Seekers patrolled. In order to join them, he had to wait somewhere he would be noticed. Finally, the coordinates matched.
Thundercracker slowed down, landing carefully. It was always the hardest part of flying. Most times, he landed too quickly. This time, he overcompensated, nearly missing his target.
Luckily, he was in the middle of an empty field, so there wasn't anything to run into except the ground. He unfurled into his root mode in midair, using his thrusters cushion his fall. They burned the ground, leaving dark marks. He definitely meant to do that. It was all very intentional.
He didn't know what he was supposed to do next. So, Thundercracker plopped down onto the ground, crossing his legs. He picked at the grass, sensors on alert. Eventually, they would come.
He was contemplating a nap when engines screamed overhead. He turned his helm upward, trying to catch a glimpse. A streak of magenta crossed the sky, steadily growing closer. It unfolded into the same Seeker he met on the battlefield.
The Seeker stood tall, puffing out its plating and flaring its wings. It stared down at him with narrowed optics. Then, it bared its dentae. Its claws flexed.
Something in the back of Thundercracker's processor whispered to yield. He didn't want to fight here anyway. That would ruin his mission. So, he lowered his wings, remaining on the ground to make himself seem smaller.
The Seeker stepped closer, leaning down. It shoved its face in his, letting out a low growl. Thundercracker closed his optics.
The Seeker's presence receded. Thundercracker opened his optics again. The Seeker's plating flexed as if it itched. It continued to stare at him, wings no longer wide set and plating no longer puffed out. But its claws still flexed, and its dentae were still visible.
"Who are you?" It said.
"Thundercracker," Thundercracker said.
The Seeker let out a whistle with clicks interspersed. It repeated the sound to itself a couple of times. Was it… saying his name in whatever language it spoke? How much Common did it actually know?
"Why are you here?" The Seeker said.
"To join you," Thundercracker replied.
He kept his sentences short. If he was misunderstood, the Seeker might fly off, or worse: attack him. That wouldn't end well.
"Join?" The Seeker said, flicking its wings. "Where are you from?"
"Nowhere," Thundercracker said, flinching as the Seeker bristled. That was clearly the wrong answer. He tried again. "I'm here alone."
The Seeker whistled something. It tapped its pede a couple times, creating loud thumps as it did so.
"Flockless," it said, as if translating. "Yes?"
Flock… like a group of cybirds. That must be what they called themselves in Common. In that sense, the Autobots were Thundercracker's flock, but saying that would probably anger the Seeker.
Thundercracker nodded. "Yes. I'm flockless."
The Seeker tapped its pede again. It walked in a circle, the air around it buzzing. Then, it turned back toward him. It waved its hand.
"Come," it said.
Thundercracker took a step toward it. The moment he did, it took off. He took off after it, following it. They flew for a while, until two mountain peaks appeared ahead.
The Seeker began to slow down, decreasing its altitude. Thundercracker did the same. They landed in the valley. A long dip stretched through the center of it, as if a mighty river had once flowed there.
Noise reached Thundercracker's audials—chirps, whistles, and chitters. There were more Seekers here. He searched his surroundings. At the bases of what became mountains were sets of holes, clawmarks on the edges of them. Inside of many of them, multiple sets of optics shone.
The Seeker motioned for him to follow. It walked past the burrows with no reservations. As Thundercracker passed, some of the Seekers hissed at him. He flinched, drawing closer to the magenta Seeker. The Seeker glanced at him, but didn't comment.
As they ascended, another burrow appeared. It was much larger than the rest.
"We are seeing the Winglord," the magenta Seeker said. "Respect him."
Thundercracker hadn't heard the word 'Winglord' before, but he could guess what it meant. Whoever this was, they were the leader of this flock.
They stopped at the edge of the burrow. Three pairs of optics stared back at them. A low growl came from within. The magenta Seeker knelt. Thundercracker copied him.
One of the pairs of optics approached. Its pedes crunched the soil loudly. The others followed behind it. The growling ceased.
Finally, the Seeker stepped into the light. It had no wings, but there was still evidence of an alt mode designed for flight, from the lack of tires to the fans in its pedes. It must have transformed into a hovercraft. Yet, it also bore a large cannon on its arm and treads on its legs—signs of a tank alt mode. Was it somehow both?
It was massive, towering over both the magenta Seeker and Thundercracker. Its shoulders came to sharp points. Its claws were even sharper. They could probably slice straight through plating if it wanted.
The two others joined it, also bearing signs of multiple alt modes. One was tan with a dark faceplate, a large grin splitting its face. It bore a cannon on its back along with wings. The other had both tires and a cockpit. Its plating was deep blue, and its optics gleamed purple.
The Winglord glared down at the magenta Seeker, speaking in the same clicks and whistles as it. The magenta Seeker replied. They spoke back and forth for a few moments, sending him glances every once in a while. Thundercracker's spark turned faster in its casing.
What were they discussing? What if they decided not to let him join?
Eventually, the Winglord barked sharply. The magenta Seeker closed its optics and lowered its helm, but the air around it was sharp with anger. Why was it upset?
"You wish to join us?" The Winglord said.
Another Seeker that spoke Common? How many of them knew it?
Thundercracker kept his gaze low, continuing to mimic the magenta Seeker. "Yes. I do."
"Then you may join," the Winglord said.
That was it? It was that easy? Thundercracker made the mistake of looking up. The Winglord bared its dentae at him. It raised its claws to strike. Immediately, Thundercracker closed his optics and lowered his helm.
The Winglord grunted.
"Go," he said.
Thundercracker didn't need to be told twice. He backed away, waiting until the Winglord returned to its burrow before heading down the hill. The magenta Seeker rolled its optics before taking off, leaving him alone. What was he supposed to do now?
He had a limited set of items in his storage space—a couple of energeon cubes, the candies Prowl gave him, and the pain patches Ratchet gave him. There was nothing to entertain himself with, and he certainly wasn't going to start approaching random burrows. With how the other Seekers were hissing earlier, it would surely lead to a fight.
Although…
The clouds above were gathering. If Thundercracker wanted any shelter from the oncoming rain, he would need to find it soon. The trees in the valley were too small to provide shelter, and he didn't want to stray too far from the flock.
So, Thundercracker approached the burrows, keeping to the edges. He stayed a respectable distance away, listening for any hisses or growls. When there were none, he knew he was safe.
Thundercracker crouched down, digging his claws into the soil. His first attempts were hesitant, but soon, he was readily digging. Plans formed in his processor—pull the soil there, pat it in here—as if they were there all along. By the time the first drops of rain landed on his plating, he was able to slip into his burrow.
It was small—much smaller than the others. There was barely enough room to fit him, and it was only deep enough to keep the rain out. But he was dry and safe. He was cold in the way he'd grown used to, his spark aching, but that was fine. He curled in on himself and closed his optics, entering recharge.
!!!
Thundercracker woke to a low fuel warning. He uncurled just enough to open his cockpit, pulling out one of his cubes. Whistles and calls outside proved the other Seekers were awake. His spark turned faster, something in the back of his processor telling hin to drink the cube as quickly as possible. He obeyed it, then stuck the empty container back in his storage space.
After a few moments of trying to get his spark to calm its rapid spinning, Thundercracker shook himself and crawled out of his burrow. He would have to integrate with the Seekers eventually. Why not start now?
Emerging from his burrow proved to be a mistake. The moment he exited, he was slammed against the ground. His shoulder took the brunt of the impact as he instinctively folded his wings out of the way. He let out a pained cry as the Seeker on top of him growled, digging its claws into his plating.
It was large—much larger than him, but not as big as the Winglord. Its nosecone was on the top of its helm, which under any other circumstance, Thundercracker may have found amusing. But as it glared angrily at him with yellow optics, there was no chance for fun. Its plating was dark blue, accented by black and bronze.
It brought its face to his, baring its dentae. Thundercracker closed his optics and turned his helm away as he went limp. What else could he do? So far, this was the best way to avoid fights.
The Seeker's olfactory sensor brushed against the side of Thundercracker's face. Then, suddenly, the weight lifted. Thundercracker rolled over, keeping his optics trained on the ground as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
What was that? It acted like it wanted to attack him and then just… went away?
The grass rustled quietly. Thundercracker jumped up, plating bristling. Was another Seeker about to give him the same treatment? But the Seeker approaching him jumped back, wings low. It was purple with gray and black accents.
It spoke to him and whistles and chirps just like the others had before. Thundercracker let a growl of frustration slip out. The Seeker squeaked and stepped back.
"I can't understand you," Thundercracker grumbled.
The purple Seeker stepped closer. It let out a questioning whistle.
"I only speak Common," Thundercracker said. "I don't know what you're saying."
The Seeker fluttered its wings, straightening up. It approached slowly and knelt before him. In a deliberate motion, it reached for Thundercracker's arm, its hand hovering over Thundercracker's medical panel.
It opened its own panel, unspooling its cable. It looked up at him.
If Thundercracker linked up with the Seeker, it could expose him to malware. It could also allow the Seeker to access files he wouldn't want it to see. But that was assuming he gave it full permission, and he wouldn't do that. He was smart.
So, Thundercracker opened his panel and let the Seeker connect. After a moment, he received a download request. He scanned the download. It came up as a language packet—Vosian. He hadn't heard of that one before, but it made sense that the Seekers would speak a language no one knew about. He installed the packet.
"Can you understand me?" The Seeker asked.
Thundercracker nodded. "Yeah."
It was strange to speak something other than Common. The same chirps and whistles exited his vocalizer, his mouth unmoving. But they were clumsier—he knew that because purple Seeker's wings fluttered as the air around it tingled with mirth.
"Great!" The purple Seeker said. "I'm Skywarp. I haven't met a Seeker who didn't know Vosian before. What flock are you from?"
The name was actually a single word that meant 'corruption of space and time,' but Thundercracker translated it as best he could. 'Skywarp' was a lot shorter to store in his files. Besides, he figured that the Autobots would need names to refer to the Seekers by whenever he returned, and they definitely couldn't make the whistles and clicks of Vosian, so it was best to have translations ready.
He realized now that the combination of sounds the magenta Seeker had used after he gave his name were the Seeker's own translation: sky-cleaving roar. He didn't mind it.
"My name is Thundercracker," Thundercracker said, repeating the name the magenta Seeker gave him. "I don't come from a flock. I'm flockless."
Skywarp's optics widened. "Did they kill yours too?"
Thundercracker knew the Autobots killed many Seekers, taking pride in finding bases to raid. But it was one thing when Seekers were amorphous, violent beings and another when he was staring into the wide optics of one trying to hold a conversation with him. He had fully bought the way others talked about Seekers, not even contemplating whether it truly applied at all.
Thundercracker shook his helm. "I never had one."
Skywarp frowned, waz wings twitching.
"Then how did you get here?" Wa asked. "A Seeker without a flock is a dead Seeker."
"I flew," Thundercracker said.
Skywarp shook waz helm. Wa stared at the other Seekers, who by now were lounging in the steadily emerging sun. Most were in groups of three, but some passed between the groups. A few groups clumped together, only a small distance between them.
"This flock is better than no flock," Skywarp said. "Winglord Megatron is strict, but he doesn't kill during challenges."
Kill during challenges…? That meeting up the hill suddenly became a lot more dangerous.
"Is that normal?" Thundercracker asked.
"I don't know," Skywarp said, waz wings lowering. "The Winglord of my birth flock killed. They were the only other flock I've been a part of."
Thundercracker hummed. The dark blue Seeker that pinned him before approached a red Seeker. The two rubbed olfactory ridges, then settled beside each other.
"Why did that blue Seeker pin me down?" Thundercracker asked.
Skywarp looked up, following Thundercracker's gaze.
"Dirge?" Wa said.
The name translated more like 'slow march of death,' but Dirge fit that closely enough. Thundercracker nodded.
"Yeah," he said.
"Thrust—the red one—is gravid," Skywarp said. "Dirge was checking whether or not you were a threat."
Again, the name was something more like 'endless flight,' but Thrust was close enough.
Thundercracker scrunched his olfactory ridge. "Why not just ask?"
Skywarp turned back toward him. Wa didn't meet his gaze, but wa came close.
"Words are empty," wa said. "Actions and instincts talk more than they ever could."
Thundercracker wasn't sure he agreed with that, but there was no point in arguing. If that was what the Seekers believed, he may experience a few more encounters like that. He definitely wasn't looking forward to them—that first one was humiliating and terrifying enough.
Suddenly, Skywarp's wings snapped up. Waz optics went wide. The air filled with the sting of fear. With a screech, wa leaped into the air and disappeared into one of the nearby burrows.
What was that about? Thundercracker searched his surroundings. Pedesteps reached his audials, slow and deliberate. Someone was approaching him. He turned. Multiple someones, actually.
Ahead, two Seekers steadily marched closer. One was pale purple with black and red accents. The other was cyan with white and red accents. Together, they moved in near perfect sync, taking step after step at the same time.
Thundercracker glanced up at them before quickly averting his gaze. He learned his lesson with the Winglord. Here, optic contact was an action worthy of retaliation. The Seekers stopped in front of him.
"You're coming with us," the purple one said.
Thundercracker didn't want to come with them. He had no idea what their intentions were or why they approached him. Skywarp fled the moment she saw them, so they were clearly bad news.
But there were two of them and one of him, so Thundercracker rose. He followed them, making sure to keep his gaze averted. The other Seekers glanced his way. Some watched from the corners of their optics.
Just what had he gotten himself into?