Neos Mnestis

Part 10: Itiner Viv

        Who ever said that space travel was an adventure seriously needed their thought processor examined, or else said individual's life had been nothing more than watching a crystal grow. The only thing worse than being stuck in a little spaceship--at least in Springer's opinion--was being trapped with Sandstorm, especially with no Devacon to converse with.

        Devacon, the odd blue neutral risked his very own spark for everyone else's on Itineroec when they had only first met. The small spacecraft had was being pursued by a vengeful team of Decepticons who were set on ripping them plating from frame before blowing them to bits. Out of nowhere Springer and his companions received a communication from a cloaked ship, the captain of that ship, Devacon, instructed them on evasive maneuvers while he un cloaked and engaged the Decepticons. As it became evident that the stealth ship was ill matched against the battleship, the blue mech seemed to randomly ask if they were Autobots. At Springer's confirmation of the question Devacon exclaimed that he wouldn't let anybot be caught by their enemies to day then crashed his ship at almost light speed into the Decepticons. Both spacecraft seemed to disintegrate into debris.

        Although there was little chance of their savoir even being in findable pieces after such an explosion Springer insisted that they had to return and know for sure. To everyone's surprise, even his own, Devacon was still alive--though it took some time for his auto repair systems to bring him back to full activity. During the neutral's convalescence Springer spent long hour conversing with him and found, to his surprise, that the drifter was incredibly intelligent.

        He missed those chats.

        The very large green mech sat in the cockpit of the Itineroec, trying his best to ignore the too laude sound of Sandstorm's voice as he told their two companion a story he'd probably repeated ten times by now.

        Springer leaned over, placing his helm between his knees, trying desperately to forget that they were heading back to Cybertron. Every moment they got closer his spark felt more and more weighed down with worry. Sure, the beacon said the Autobots won and the war was over, but at what cost Cybertron was most assuredly a dead husk, no longer a planet. Perhaps Devacon had the right idea when he refused to return with them; though, Springer had a feeling that the blue neutral would have demanded that he be dropped off at a way station no matter the condition of their home planet.

        "Ar̃e jooh vell?" Springer jerked up at the query.

        "What?"

        "Ar̃e jooh ill?" The red and black mech kneeling before him repeated, red optics searching over his warn frame.

        "No... no I'm fine." He wasn't, but Springer thought it best to keep his problems personal. His unexpected visitor settled himself in the only other seat in Itineroec's cockpit, keeping his gaze locked with the triple changer's. Although he wouldn't admit it, Springer was glad that someone interrupted his solitude, even if it was in the form of one of the two Kaonites who owned the small spacecraft.

        "Jou happy be going home, yah?" The red and black gladiator leaned back, splaying his clawed digits over his legs, red optics intent.

        "Sure Sideswipe." Springer murmured, regretting his silent wish for company. Rolling his broad shoulders and turning to face the control console, the large triple changer glanced over the information displayed across the screen, trying to hide his worry from Sideswipe. After all, the discomfort in his spark probably meant nothing, he hadn't felt anything meaningful for the longest time.



        As Arcee came back online she braced herself to feel pain. The exploding weapon must have destroyed most of her even with Fillup having thrown himself on it. At the thought of the Vehicon Arcee's slow progress to full awareness halted. She hadn't known the ex-con long--a matter of days was all--yet he'd been so willing to sacrifice himself for her and the femme was sure it wasn't just because she was his lieutenant.

        Arcee wanted to cry for Fillup's death, but to do that she'd have to online and now she wasn't sure if she wanted to confront what was undoubtedly a scene of destruction. Her first real mission since returning home and she'd most likely got everyone in her little team scrapped. Well, maybe not Blurr, but still, what a failure. The only way she felt she could possibly do some form of penance for what happened would be by onlining and suffering through whatever pain was awaiting her.

        She opened her optics.

        What the scrap? She stared up at a light tan ceiling. Where was she? More importantly, who was the white mech leaning over her? A quick lance of pain shot through her neck, causing self-preservation coding to kick in, Arcee tried to scramble across the smooth surface she was lying on and away from the stranger. The attempt was short lived, her limbs giving only a spasmodic quake. However she did succeed in getting the mech to back off a little, moving out of her limited line of site long enough for her venting to slow, even if he did return within moments with some device that looked suspiciously like one of Knockout's hand-held spark monitors.

        "Lieutenant Arcee." Having calmed down marginally, the before mentioned femme noticed, with some confusion, that the white and red mech looked remarkably like Drift. Not in size, sure, though his helm and faceplate were shockingly familiar. Arcee snapped back to the present as the mech laid a servo on her shoulder. "You are in the medical bay at Autobot headquarters. CMO Knockout will be here soon to cheek on how you are healing. For now you are under orders to remain still and quiet."

        Arcee nodded her heavy helm minutely. He even sounded like a less Decepticony Drift. For a second she wanted to ask about the rest of her team, but the sedative that had been injected through the main energon line in her neck came into full effect and she soon fell back into a light stasis.

        The only other occupant of the medical bay looked down at the readout from the spark monitor he held. Knockout taught him enough to tell when Arcee's spark broke from its normal slow pattern, then told him to call him instantly if there was any change.

        "How ever fast you're going Doc, get here faster." The former Decepticon told his fellow turncoat over the comm line.

        "Already here Locks." The red mech said, slipping through the previously closed doors the moment the gap between them was wide enough. "Step aside and let an expert look."