AUTHOR COMMENTS:
Copyright 1996, Robert A. Jung
Originally published May 7, 1996
All characters depicted or mentioned in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, is coincidental, etc., etc. Geez, it's just a story, guys. Don't get too uptight over it...

* * *

Ultra Magnus was used to looking down at his troops. This was not a matter of haughtiness, but of necessity; while most Transformers averaged eighteen to twenty feet in height, the commander of the Cybertronian Autobots stood at an imposing twenty-six, a towering figure of red and blue. As a consequence, whenever Magnus met anyone, his gaze reflexively headed down to greet them.

He was therefore somewhat surprised to find himself actually looking up at his latest visitor. The robot before him was over thirty feet tall, with an impressively broad frame to match his stature. His white hull was highlighted with touches of red and black, which worked together to form a picture of quiet confidence. Even his featureless face-a slim rectangular wedge broken by a single red eyeslit-failed to convey menace, hinting instead at a being subtly sure of himself.

Quickly stifling his wonder, Ultra Magnus extended his hand and stepped forward. "Welcome to Cybertron, Jetfire."

"Thank you," the latter replied with a firm grip and a cordial pump.

"I'm glad you were able to arrive so quickly," Magnus continued. "These new Decepticons are doing a lot of damage to us."

Jetfire nodded once, his eye pulsing with each word. "I understand. The transmissions you sent were very ... interesting."

"I wish they weren't. We're clearly outclassed, and none of us have any ideas as to what their secret is."

Jetfire unslung a large metal case off his back and patted it. "Well, hopefully I can help us get some answers."

Magnus smiled a little at his optimism. "We have a team ready to brief you about this crisis. I apologize for the abruptness, but we wanted to get you filled in as soon as possible. But I'll take you to your room first, so you can put that away."

Jetfire nodded again in agreement. As the two robots headed into the core of Autobase, Magnus casually commented, "I imagine Cybertron must have changed a lot since you last saw it."

"Unfortunately, not for the better," Jetfire replied with a chuckle. But the forced humor failed to mask the pain in his voice. Jetfire had left Cybertron over six million years ago, lost before the Autobot-Decepticon war on an exploration in an uncharted region of space. He remained missing until recently, found buried in Earth's Arctic ice by the Decepticons during one of their energy-plundering schemes. Though he had been tricked originally into helping them, he soon changed sides, joining the Autobots in their efforts to stop the Decepticons' plans of conquest.

As if disappointed with the tone in his response, Jetfire added, "I've been to Cybertron a few times since I was revived, but they've only been short visits. Maybe this time I can stay long enough to get more than a glimpse."

Magnus nodded silently, unsure of what to say. There was nothing worth seeing on Cybertron for the last five million years. The shining cities had turned black, the graceful spires had fallen, the centers of art and culture and science and knowledge had been burned and shelled long ago. Magnus could only imagine how onerously agonizing it must be for Jetfire, whose last memories of Cybertron were surely of a glittering utopia.

He looked back to his companion. Jetfire was lost in his own thoughts, and his blank face gave no signs of what emotions he felt. Not willing to stir up any more disturbing thoughts, Magnus opted for the safety of silence.

* * *

he orange robot stood out brightly against the dark sky. But while he was easy to see, he was certainly not easy to hit. Bolts of energy in various colors flew thick through the air, but the mechanoid dodged them all. Bobbing and banking at incredible angles, with sudden stops and abrupt turns, he slipped easily between the attacks, occasionally retorting with a burst of laser fire or a concussive missile.

Jetfire watched the blurry video in silence. He was not entirely surprised at the footage; a similar recording, featuring a sweep-winged white airplane, was what had brought him to Cybertron in the first place. Along with a wedge-shaped black craft, those new fighters presented an enigmatic puzzle: by the laws of physics and aerospace design, such abrupt stops and tight turns were simply impossible. They moved like hummingbirds instead of airplanes, and the stress factors alone should have torn them apart.

But they didn't.

Jetfire stopped the recording and turned to the others. "I'm still wondering how they can maneuver like that."

"Welcome to the club," Override said testily.

"Do we have a multiscan recording of them, by any chance?"

"No way," Quickmix quickly replied. "We've only got one multiscanner that works, and there's no way I'm letting it out of the lab! You should know how delicate those things are."

"Yes, I do. I've brought my own instruments. I just wanted to know what other information was available."

"You've seen almost everything we have," explained Ultra Magnus. "Visuals only. There's also some missile-mounted camera footage, but they don't offer us any useful insights."

Quickmix mused, "The designs are obviously from Earth; Jetfire, are you sure they've never been seen there before?"

"Who cares?" Springer interrupted. "Those guys could look like lumps of lead for all I care. Looks are the least of our worries. I'M annoyed that they've got us on the run for so long-they're not fast, they're not subtle, and they get a zero on sophistication. If it wasn't for their agility, we should have nailed them a long time ago."

"But they can, so we're getting roasted," groused Override Abruptly, the thin robot smashed a red fist onto the table. "Shock it, Magnus! When are we going to start fighting back?!"

"Easy there, Override," Magnus ordered flatly. "I'm aware of our situation. But the infirmary is full enough as it is, and what we don't want is a hasty attack that'll give those flyers more targets to shoot at."

"So you keep us locked up, hiding from those jet jockeys while our Energon levels drop-"

"Oh, shut up!" Springer snapped. Taking a deep breath, the green Autobot carefully continued, "Look, Override, I know you're frustrated about this. We all are. But don't be an idiot. These guys have us whupped with a capital 'W,' and going out there without help is suicide. That's why Magnus called for Jetfire, because he's the best there is."

Springer ended the sentence by tossing the tall white Autobot a grin. Jetfire stammered, then replied, "I'll try my best."

"Can't ask for anything more."

Ultra Magnus glanced quickly at Override, then added, "I'm sure you'll be invaluable to us, Jetfire. Your air support will help keep those Decepticons off our backs, and your scientific expertise and sensors will help us find out what their secret is."

Jetfire nodded. Override sighed, then softly said, "I hope so ... Sorry for losing my cool there, Magnus."

"It's all right. But perhaps this is now a good time to talk about plans. If we're going to crack this mystery, then we have to go out there and get the clues we need."

* * *

The warehouse was guarded, of course. The Decepticons may have controlled more than three-quarters of Cybertron, but they weren't fools. An Autobot attack could still do a lot of damage, and the Decepticons refused to give their enemies any easy victories.

"Rollerbob's ready," Cloudraker whispered over the battlefield comm net.

"Great. Okay, guys, final roll call. Cloudraker? You first."

"Two here, and one of them's a flyer. Can I go already? The walls are closing in..."

"Sure, g'wan," Springer chuckled. "Just make sure you're not spotted. East side?"

Override said, "One here. Plus the gun in the corner."

"Can he fly?"

"I doubt it. I see treads, which I'll bet means a tank mode."

"South?"

"Nobody here, just the guns," Landfill replied.

Springer reached over and tapped Fastlane on the shoulder. Without looking away from the depot, the red-and-silver Autobot said, "Two here, one with wings. They look pretty bored."

"I won't complain. Okay, everybody. On my mark ... now."

Jetfire, hiding a quarter-mile away to the east, issued a mental command to reset his internal chronometer, then waited for things to start.

Twelve seconds later, Rollerbob awoke with a thunderous roar. As the guards turned to the source of the noise, Rollerbob zoomed out from a blackened alley north of the compound and raced for the main gates. The harsh squeal of spinning tires filled the staid air as the guards rushed forward, weapons raised in alert.

"Now!" Springer yelled. He leaped into the air simultaneously, smoothly transforming into his helicopter mode.

To the north, Rollerbob's lights snapped on, and a rack of high-intensity bulbs flooded the northern gate with blinding brilliance. The Decepticons were deterred only for a moment; even as arms were raised and lenses polarized against the glare, they fired their weapons, all aimed in the same direction.

Glass shattered in a shower of shards, blistering under the hail of energy. The remote-controlled drone died as a small blast destroyed its power plant; it was joined an instant later by a louder pair of explosions from the south.

The guards turned, but it was too late. Both of the automated laser cannons on the south side of the compound had vanished, each consumed in a dazzling fireball. Two Autobot fliers-a green helicopter and a red-and-silver jet-circled the air above, a daring taunt of their work.

As the distracted Decepticons began to respond to this threat, Override's voice boomed forth, "Hit 'em!"

More lasers lanced out from the east and west, surprising the Decepticons for the third time. A tan and a red mechanoid leaped clear as the shooting began, their bodies quickly transforming into triangular flying wedges. The other three took cover behind a guardhouse, then began to exchange weapons fire with Override and Fastlane.

At the same time, Landfill and Wideload raced out of the south in their vehicle modes. Wideload struck the fence first, yelping about his scratched bumper even as the metal mesh crumpled beneath his tires. With a merry chuckle, Landfill fired his proton cannon, handily caving the repository wall. While the other Autobots kept the guards at bay, they began to load themselves with the depot's caches of raw metals and Energon cubes.

The battle quickly fell into a stalemate. The Autobot attack teams were not concerned with capturing the Decepticons, but instead worked on keeping them away from Landfill and Wideload. This was important for Cloudraker and Springer, as the Decepticons were better at air combat than they were. But because it was only a holding action, the Autobots didn't have to worry about the difficult task of capture, allowing them to focus more on survival and distraction.

Jetfire watched the proceedings from the shadows. For the plan to work, he had to stay hidden for the moment. Everyone had agreed the new Decepticons were more likely to arrive if they didn't know that the Autobots had Jetfire on their side. But while it made sense, he still felt a mild touch of guilt at his inactivity.

Springer's strained voice crackled over the net. "These guys are too dumb to give up! Landfill, how much longer?"

"-forget the grease, Wideload! Another minute, Springer!"

"Okay, but-ow! -- one minute! Then we're gone, new 'cons or not!"

"Hang on!" Fastlane yelled. "I'll plug these guys and give you a hand!"

"Talk's cheap, bro!" retorted Cloudraker. "Let's see results!"

Fastlane did not reply with words. Instead, slapping his sonic rifles together, he rushed out of hiding and smoothly tumbled across the ground. Before the guards could track him, he fired.

The shack exploded in a dazzling shower of steel splinters. While the Decepticons were tossed in its wake, Override charged forward and sprayed the area with his particle-beam blaster. Two of the guards collapsed immediately, felled by the sudden barrage, while the third transformed into a low-profile dragster and quickly drove away.

"Ha!" boasted Fastlane with a broad grin. "Am I great, or what?"

"Big deal!" snapped Override. "I blasted the 'cons!"

"Only after I did the work!"

"What work? A non-moving target! Any idiot could-"

"Will you two shut up and help already?!" Springer yelled from above. He jinxed suddenly to the left, narrowly dodging a stream of laser fire as the tan-colored Decepticon strafed by.

"Yeah, yeah," Fastlane muttered. "A hero's work is never-"

Another explosion rocked the area, even more powerful than the ones before. The blast smashed Override and Fastlane onto the ground, and the rush of hot air buffeted the Autobots and Decepticons above with equal cruelty.

Jetfire, being farthest from the battle, was quick to unshield his eyes and survey the situation. As he watched, three more Decepticons-the mysterious jets from the videos-roared in from the west. The new arrivals quickly circled wide over the area, a pack of sharks idly surrounding fresh prey.

"Good evening, Autobots," said the black one. "So nice to see you again. Unfortunately, this is not a social call. You're all guilty of trespass and robbery, and we're here to take you in. Would you be kind enough to surrender now?"

"Get real!" Springer retorted. He spun immediately and fired, and the blast caught the red Decepticon fighter in his rear engine. With a muffled shriek, the flying wedge crashed into the ground, bouncing across the landscape in a flaming tangle of limbs.

The stealth fighter tsk'd softly as he transformed into his robot form, a falsely vulnerable figure cloaked in total ebony. Stopping into a mid-air hover, he pointed his clawed right hand at the Autobots with a melodramatic sweep. "Very well. Hooligan, Space Case-kill them."

With an enthusiastic holler, Space Case broke formation and fired his engines. He bolted towards Springer and Cloudraker, parallel lines of deadly crimson streaming from a pair of nose guns. The Autobots banked hard to dodge the attack, but Springer was clipped hard in the tail when the white fighter zoomed past.

At the same time, the tiger-striped orange Decepticon called Hooligan dove sharply. "Whoohahahahahoo!" he whooped, nose-mounted lasers flashing brightly as he spun in a twirling barrel roll. A still-dazed Override managed to stumble clear, but Fastlane was pinned under a score of bolts that violently riddled his body. Missing the ground by scant inches, Hooligan then banked skyward, destroying the half-looted warehouse with a missile.

Even as Springer's cry for help came over the net, Jetfire was airborne. With his sensor array strapped on his back, he transformed into his jet mode and surged forward at full speed. As the Decepticon leader watched the battle impassively from above, Jetfire locked his targeting sights into his back, then fired his particle-beam cannons.

Inconceivably, the black robot twisted elegantly, dodging the attack as he slipped to the side. "Shooting a foe from behind? Not sporting, mon ami!" Snapping his claw-arm, he launched a rocket and retorted, "Now you'll get Skyjacked!"

Jetfire swerved abruptly to dodge the missile. It detonated anyway, and the blast knocked him forward into an erratic tumble. Changing back to his stealth mode, Skyjack raced forward, taking the opportunity to hit Jetfire with a string of bullets.

He suppressed the pain, regretting for an instant that he had to leave behind his battle armor and photon missiles due to weight limits with the sensor pack. Slender wings snapping forward, he angled into a sweeping curve, configured his underbelly cannons for a conic field, then fired a swath directly in front of the Decepticon.

Skyjack arched backwards at an incredibly acute three hundred and forty degrees, completely avoiding the attack. Veering again at another impossible angle, he bolted forward and zipped by Jetfire, raking him in the side with his left wingtip.

Jetfire screamed as he struggled for control. Wobbling once, he dove for the ground, and Skyjack banked to pursue. "Oh, die already," the Decepticon idly sniffed, marking the point with another burst of machine-gun fire. "Why delay the inevitable?"

With a tight turn which racked his body, Jetfire pulled out of the harrowing dive. He skimmed low over the ravaged battlefield, Skyjack still close on his tail. Then, as Hooligan began another strafing run on the grounded Autobots, Jetfire raced forward and darted beneath him.

Buffeted in Jetfire's wake, Hooligan cried out in surprise. Skyjack darted abruptly about the wayward Decepticon, narrowly missing him before he crashed into the ground. Override and Wideload immediately opened fire, only to be forced back a moment later by Space Case.

Jetfire angled back into a sharp climb, and Skyjack continued in dogged pursuit. "Not bad," Skyjack said blandly, "but don't expect to succeed with that stunt again."

"Good thing I've got other stunts, then!" Jetfire retorted. He banked hard to the right, simultaneously rotating his guns to fire behind him.

Skyjack trivially rolled around the attack, countering with a missile which narrowly missed the Autobot's wing. "You speak bravely, but we know you're out of tricks now." Another rocket exploded on Jetfire's right, close enough to fracture his body plating.

Jetfire could not reply, could not do anything but dodge as Skyjack peppered him with an endless stream of missiles. The Decepticon was right; despite his bravado, he had very few options left. His weapons were useless against their agility, and his speed wasn't enough to counter their firepower. Retreat was the only option. But Cloudraker and Landfill and Fastlane were down, and with the Decepticons' superior forces, some of them would have to be abandoned.

As missiles erupted from all sides, Springer's panicked voice crackled over the combat frequency. "We're getting killed out here! Autobots, retreat!"

"What?!" Override shouted. "Forget it! We can't leave the team behind!"

"Don't be-unggh! -- stupid! Pull out, that's an order!"

"No!"

"Springer!" Jetfire cried. "Your cyclone laser!"

Springer acted instantly, twirling left to shoot a bright purple beam at Space Case and Hooligan. The two jets easily avoided the attack, only to be caught a moment later in the wind tunnel which formed behind it. With yelps of astonishment, they veered erratically, simultaneously avoiding a collision while fighting the turbulence.

Jetfire seized the moment. He rolled to one side, and underbelly cannons blazed upon the Decepticons. They yelled as the bolts struck, then abruptly broke free with a pair of erratic corkscrews. Before he could move to intercept the pair, Jetfire was repulsed by another exploding missile from Skyjack.

"Enough!" the black warrior pronounced. "Decepticons, to me!" Breaking off from Jetfire's tail, Skyjack abruptly raced to the west. He was followed seconds later by Hooligan, Space Case, and the remaining Decepticon guard.

The Autobots watched with astonished relief, and the buzz of victorious voices filled the net. Springer's staggered voice cheered, "Great work, Jetfire!"

Jetfire ignored the kudos. "I'm going after them," he tersely said.

"What?!"

Quickly plotting a pursuit vector, Jetfire turned to the west and gunned his afterburners. "Something's wrong, Springer-there's no reason for them to run, and I want to know what it is. Get the others back to headquarters, I'll rendezvous later!"

Snapping off his communicator, Jetfire quickly examined the situation. His attack was only superficial at best; by all rights, the Decepticons should have been capable of taking a few more hits. Several explanations were possible, but he needed more data before he could draw any conclusions. Fortunately, the heavily-shielded sensor pack was still working fine, and Jetfire hoped he could find the Decepticons in time to get more readings.

He continued to formulate theories when he spotted them twenty seconds later. The tan fighter had disappeared, but Skyjack and his team remained together. Jetfire followed from a far distance, in the outer range of his instruments, and was ready to act immediately if they spotted him. But as the seconds stretched on, the trio continued in their straight-line path, oblivious to the Autobot trailing them.

The squadron dipped low now, weaving carefully among the fallen towers and dusty skyscrapers of one of Cybertron's ruined cities. Jetfire followed them with a mix of curiosity and excitement; if this was one of their secret bases, how could the information be used by the Autobots? Still careful of being seen, he mirrored their path exactly, wondering if their limited vision range might be related to their incredible agility.

A sudden burst of energy rocked Jetfire from behind. It was accompanied an instant later by a second, a third, and a fourth. He tried to find the source, but could not-he was suddenly and completely paralyzed, unable to look or turn or move or fly.

Even as this realization crystallized in his mind, Jetfire could only watch as the ground rushed up to meet him.

* * *

"Yooo-hooo! Oh, Mis-s-s-ter Autobot! It's time to come out of your nap now!"

"Hey, I think he heard ya! Lemme give it a try! You! Hey, you, Autobot! Are you gonna wake up now, or do I have to get nasty?"

"Stop that immediately! Step aside, Space Case."

"Oooooh, the boss is throwing a fit! I'm scared!"

Bzapp!

"Ow! You shot my hand! Ow ow ow ow ow!"

"Oh, goodie, a fight! I'll take three-to-one odds on-"

"Skyjack, will you get him out of the way?!"

"Most certainly."

Klonk!

"Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!"

"Come on, S.C. You can sit here, next to me."

"Oh, no! I'm not gonna fall for that stunt again!"

"Silence!"

Jarred by the last shout, Jetfire moaned as the darkness faded. Consciousness returned, unbidden, and brought with it an assortment of sensations. The firm press of metal on his back, the whispered echoes of a shrill conversation. Olfactory sensors registered the faint smell of lubricant. Optics fluttered once, slowly registering a dimly-lit room, a huddle of bodies, and a familiar face...

"...Starscream?"

A small smile danced across the grey and red Decepticon's visage. "Ah," he whispered, sweetly savoring the word. "So it is you. It's been a long time, Skyfire."

Jetfire shook his head briefly, wincing at the dull throbbing pain all over his body. "No ... I'm Jetfire now."

Starscream shrugged impassively. "New name, new face-mere semantics."

"No, it isn't," Jetfire insisted with a grunt as he studied his surroundings. He was in a storeroom of some kind, lying prostrate on a table, with a set of bolted manacles to hold down his arms and legs. Gamely, he continued, "Skyfire was a gullible pawn, tricked by you and Megatron into fighting the Autobots and the humans. But now he's gone. As Jetfire, I'll do everything I can to stop you and the Decepticons."

"Tough talk, big guy!" Space Case jeered. "But you can't do nothing now!"

Hooligan turned to Starscream. "Awww, a reunion! How long have you two know each other?"

"We met ... a long time ago," Starscream said softly. Then, brightening, he beamed, "But where are my manners? Skyf-Jetfire, allow me to present Hooligan-"

"Hi there!"

"-Skyjack-"

"Good evening."

"-and Space Case-"

"H'llo!"

"-my newest creations, the Cyberjets!"

"We've met," Jetfire flatly intoned.

"I hope you were suitably impressed." Starscream's grin was broad and smug, the unfiltered pride of an artist sharing his latest masterpiece with an appreciative, but lesser, colleague. "Only a genius of my caliber could have conceived of such a masterful design. Thanks to their omnidirectional sensor clusters and reflex augmentors, they can spot attacks from any direction, then react fast enough to avoid them."

Despite his captive status, Jetfire's curiosity was piqued. "But how can they make their sudden moves without tearing themselves apart?"

"Oh, that's easy! They're hollow-I rebuilt them so their internal mechanisms are at a minimum, and their structural integrity comes completely from their exoskeletons. That makes them light enough for fast movement changes. And since they can't get hit, the endurance problem becomes moot."

"Works for me!" boasted Space Case.

Hooligan teased the blue-and-white Decepticon, "Oh, I'll bet you don't even know what he said."

"Do too!"

"Do not-t-t-t-t-t-t...!"

"Do too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Quiet!" Starscream yelled. "Can't you see that I'm talking?"

"Sorry," Space Case sheepishly muttered.

Ignoring him, Starscream pointed to the door. "Enough! All of you, out! I won't tolerate any more distractions!"

Space Case started to speak, but quickly stopped when Skyjack laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Certainly, Starscream. I'll take the boys down to our quarters and keep them out of your way."

"Thank you."

With a few giggles from Hooligan and muted protests from Space Case, Skyjack quickly corralled them out of the room. Starscream followed to lock the door, then turned back to Jetfire with an exasperated shake of his head. "And I thought Thundercracker was incompetent," he grumbled.

Prodding lightly, Jetfire said, "I' suppose Megatron has already ordered you to convert all of his soldiers into these ... 'Cyberjets.'"

"He can't. The augmentors will work only with brains within a particular speed range. Those three are the only ones I've found so far who qualify. As usual, I'm hampered by the limitations of my inferiors."

Even as Starscream spoke, he moved around the table, quickly unlocking Jetfire's shackles. As the stunned Autobot watched, Starscream popped the last one open and gestured with his hands. "Come on, come on. Get up already."

Cautiously, Jetfire pulled himself into a sitting position. "You can't escape, of course," Starscream stated simply. "I've disabled your weapons, and even if you manage to break out, the Cyberjets will easily hunt you down and drag you back."

"Why the sudden dose of generosity?" Jetfire asked.

There was a momentary pause. "Because of who you are, I suppose. I respect you too much to keep you tied down like any other Autobot. I've waited a long time for a chance to talk to you, Jetfire."

Starscream slowly paced the room as he continued. "When Skyjack described a 'large white flying Autobot' at the raid, I thought it might have been you. So I ordered them to withdraw, figuring your curiosity would compel you to follow them."

"So you could shoot me with your null rays, capture me, find out if it really was me, and get me into this ... chat."

"Exactly."

Starscream stopped then and stood still, gazing distantly into a corner. When he spoke again, it was in a deep and muted whisper. "Did you know, Jetfire, that before the war began, I admired you? Not just because you were my teacher, but because you were my inspiration. You showed me, more than anyone else, the beauty in science. You taught me about reasoning, about discipline, about logic and planning. The thrill of research, the excitement of discovery, the joy of success-I learned all of those things from you.

"When we went on our expedition and you disappeared, I spent days searching for you. When I couldn't find you, I returned to Cybertron and mourned for you, and was convinced you were lost forever. I can't even begin to describe how excited I was when we found you in the ice. It was me who insisted that we try to revive you, instead of leaving you for dead."

Starscream sighed softly. "When you joined the Decepticons, I believed it was because you saw things as I do. I should have known better when you started showing sympathy for the humans." His voice turned ragged as he continued, "And when you refused to kill the Autobots, I felt ... betrayed. Megatron's anger at how you turned traitor was nothing compared to the hurt that I felt."

A weighty quiet stretched between the two. Finally, Jetfire said, "I'm sorry, Starscream. But I'm simply not a Decepticon. Megatron recruited me under false pretenses, when I was still confused from my reactivation."

"I suppose," Starscream muttered. "But, for a while, I had hoped ... Even now, it's hard for me to face you, knowing that the ... friend ... I once had is gone."

"Starscream ... it doesn't have to be this way."

"No?"

"No. There's always an answer. Join the Autobots. Leave Megatron, and work with me to stop him."

Starscream slowly turned. His expression was one of total disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" echoed Jetfire, incredulous. "Because ... because what he's doing is wrong, that's why. Because Megatron is evil. Because all he cares about is conquering the universe, at the expense of everyone else, and it's not right."

Starscream tsk'd. "You should know better, Jetfire. As scientists, we know there are no universal standards of 'right' and 'wrong.' Morals are nothing but arbitrary concepts, definitions fabricated by individuals. The only cosmic truth is survival of the fittest; the Decepticon principle is nothing more than an acknowledgment of that fact, that we Transformers are superior to other forms of life."

"You're wrong, Starscream. This isn't about science at all, but about doing what's proper. Maybe the universe doesn't have an idea of right and wrong, but I do. As a sentient being, I have to be responsible for my actions. Even if I am superior to someone else, it doesn't give me the right to abuse or exploit them. And I cannot sit back and let others exploit them, either, because that's not right to me."

"Such nonsense," Starscream spat contemptuously. "Reality doesn't care about morals. You can't turn water into Energon merely by being 'nice' to it. And when the universe finally collapses, who's going to remember what you did or how 'nice' you were when you did it? No one! All that matters is the here and now, survival and power. Be a scientist, separate your feelings from the facts, and face the truth!"

"No! You're wrong! We're talking about people here! Sentient beings-individuals-with dreams and beliefs and hopes! They're not molecules in an experiment or cogs in a machine! They're not interchangable parts to be used as you see fit, and thrown away when you're done! And you can't treat them as if they were! Dammit, Starscream, where's your compassion?"

"Compassion is a weakness! Look at the Autobots-why are you losing the war? Because you're weighed down with useless ideas like benevolence and mercy! You can't do what's really necessary to stop us, because you don't dare! All of your grand speeches and bright visions mean nothing compared to superior firepower, and that's why we're winning!"

Silence fell again, hard and abrupt, solidifying into a glacial wall between the two.

Jetfire turned away, unable to look at Starscream any more, stung by the truth of his words. Despite their hopes of believing otherwise, the Autobots WERE losing the war, and badly. What started as an organized militia millions of years ago was now reduced to a handful of survivors, scrabbling for survival with desperate raids. And the myth of an Autobot victory was growing harder to accept every day; at their current rate of conquest, the Decepticons could take all of Cybertron in another fifteen years. Override's outburst back at headquarters was more than just wounded pride, but an expression of the despair hovering over all of the Autobots.

The moment was finally broken by a sigh from Starscream. "What am I going to do with you?"

Jetfire looked up as the Decepticon continued, "I should just turn you over to Megatron, of course. But he's sure to use the cerebro-sifter on you, which will leave you dumber than a burned-out toaster-oven ... Or, I could toss you into one of the smelting pools, but..."

After a moment, Jetfire asked, "I suppose you can't just let me go?"

"Oh, you're a funny one," Starscream sneered. "No, I can't. So, for now, I suppose you're my prisoner."

He strode to the door, stopping in front of it. "Out of ... courtesy ... for what we once shared, I won't bother to tie you down again. Besides, I doubt you'd be cooperative enough to let me."

The steel door slid open, and Starscream quickly stepped through. Turning for one final glance, he said, "Enjoy your life-while you still have it."

Before Jetfire could reply, the door slammed shut.

* * *

Finding the Cyberjets was easy; one simply had to listen. Starscream followed the racket to the electronics-emissions test chamber, which had been converted into a set of sleeping quarters. Hooligan and Space Case were seated on the floor, yelling rambunctiously as they played a video game on a wall-mounted monitor. Nearby, Skyjack rested on his recharge berth, reading a novel-disc with an old datapadd.

The black robot looked up as Starscream approached. "Ah, Starscream. How is our prisoner doing?"

Starscream grimaced momentarily. "'Our' prisoner is doing fine. I have to go and make arrangements for his transfer." Bobbing his head towards the others, he continued, "In the meantime, I don't want him to be disturbed."

Skyjack nodded once in understanding. "Should I arrange for a guard detail?"

"No-the storeroom is very secure. He won't be going anywhere. Just keep the others out of his way."
Skyjack nodded again. Yet even as he returned to his novel, he kept a discreet watch on Starscream's back.

* * *

After he had joined the Autobots, Jetfire had spent some time wondering about Starscream. There was a sharp contrast between the Starscream he knew before his accident and the Starscream who had sided with the Decepticons. The former was a bright, ambitious scientist, who had taken great pleasure in his work. The latter was a shameless manipulator, a weaver of webs whose only interest was in himself.

Jetfire had tried to reconcile the differences, trying to imagine how the former could have evolved into the latter. His attempts were unsuccessful; to him, none of the theories managed to explain how such a drastic change could have occurred. Ultimately, Jetfire had abandoned the puzzle, convinced that he did not have enough data.

Now he had it.

It's my fault, he realized. If Starscream admired me that much, then my disappearance must have traumatized him. It must have convinced him that life was arbitrary. And if it hurt him so much, then when he returned to Cybertron, he probably kept to himself. Probably locked himself up in his lab, not wanting to make any friends, because if he got close to someone else, he might get hurt again.

That's why he joined the Decepticons. Their 'survival of the fittest' viewpoint would have made sense to him then. And he wouldn't have to be at any emotional risk, either. He only has to be stronger than the others; he doesn't have to like them. That's why he doesn't get along with them. And since he's convinced that nothing matters anyway, he uses that to justify his ruthless and cruel behavior.

Jetfire sighed, the first sound he made since Starscream had left.

He said that he had admired me before. But how does he feel now? It was not a trivial issue; Jetfire knew that his life could depend on Starscream's disposition. Lingering anger at being "betrayed" could mean a quick, spiteful execution. Total indifference could cause him to be handed over to Megatron without another thought. Respect for their former friendship could lead to an argument on his behalf. Anything was possible-there were many ways to interpret Starscream's actions and words.

Jetfire stood suddenly as his resolve hardened. I have to assume the worst. If I do nothing, then I'll end up either mindwiped or dead.

He looked around the storeroom, studying it carefully. The only entrance was the room's single door, and aside from his sensor backpack and the shackled table, there was nothing in the room. As Starscream claimed, his weapons were deactivated-he couldn't even summon his concussion rifle from its storage shunt in subspace. That'd be too easy.

Taking a scanner module from his pack, he started to examine the door. The door was strong enough, held shut only by an electronic deadlock. Neither appeared to be wired to any alarms, which seemed odd. For a moment, Jetfire wondered if it was a trap-he envisioned a pack of enthusiastic guards on the other side, ready to shoot him in an escape attempt, but another check of the scanner revealed no Transformer life-signs behind the door.

Thought still skeptical, Jetfire realized it was his only chance. In theory, opening the door was simple: all he needed was a spectrum scanner/transmitter to activate the locking mechanism. But his equipment was back at Autobase, and the pack's various sensors did not include a transmitter at all.

Unless...

Jetfire looked down at his right hand as it retracted into his forearm. It re-emerged a second later, reformed into a portable toolkit. As the tip of the soldering iron flared with a dull red glow, a plan began to solidify in his mind.

* * *

Starbrand, stooped low in a defensive crouch, suddenly launched himself towards Gunlock in a chest-smashing torpedo blast. But the green mechanoid was faster, immediately raising his arms to deflect the attack.

As Starbrand bounced away, Gunlock countered with his arm-mounted plasma rifles. They spewed thick orange streams, intercepting the helpless yellow robot. Jarred by the blast, Starbrand bounced in the air for a moment, then fell to the ground in a graceless slam.

He staggered to his feet, but was too dazed to fight any further. Gunlock cautiously stepped forward, hesitating for a moment at arm's length. Then, without preamble, he produced a gigantic fusion cannon from nothingness and leveled it at Starbrand. With a blinding burst of light, Gunlock vaporized his opponent, leaving only a small pile of ash.

Gunlock turned and raised his arms in a victorious salute. Directly above, the words, "Gunlock is victorious-Annihilation" appeared on the screen.

"Aw!" Space Case groaned. "You got me again!"

Hooligan chuckled politely. "Don't feel too bad, S.C. You just need to try someone else. Use Deathblade; he's got a six-hit combo that's easy to do."

"Forget it! You'll just whup me again. What's your real secret, huh? C'mon, Hooligan, you can tell me! Puleeeeeeze!"

Hooligan's "face" was little more than an expressionless T-shaped light bar; still, he managed to convey a sense of mischievous secrecy at the plea. "Oh, okay, Space Case. What you have to do is get into 'the trance.' That lets you concentrate completely on the game, so you can play better."

"Ooooh! How do I do it?"

Hooligan got up and stood behind Space Case. "Raise your hands and put them on the sides of your head ... right. Now, move them out about an inch-there you go-and close your optics. Are they closed yet?"

"Uh huh!"

"Great. Now just hold still, and repeat after me: 'Ahim.'"

"'Ahim...'"

"'Acylli.'"

"'Acylli...'"

"'Eghno.'"

"'Icky-no,' um, 'eghno...'"

"'Rahmis.'"

"'Rahmis.'"

"Very good! Keep repeating that, okay?"

"Okay. Ahim ... acylli ... eghno ... rahmis. Ahim ... acylli ... eghno ... rahmis. Um, ahim ... acylli ... eghno ... rahmis."

"Yes you are," laughed Hooligan. "You're a silly ignoramus!"

"Wha-hey!" Space Case turned and glared at him. "You tricked me!"

Hooligan's face twinkled brightly as he said, "Oh, come on, Space Case. It was just a joke!"

"It's not funny!"

"Sure it is! Where's your sense of humor? Aw, c'mon-here, let's play Metal Mashers again, okay?"

"No! Go find another iggyramus, not me!" Space Case quickly walked over to his recharger berth and sat down with an irritated huff. Skyjack glanced at him for a moment before continuing to read in silence.

Hooligan shrugged, snapping off the monitor with a flick of his clawed hand. He looked around the spartan room for a moment, then said, "Not much to do here ... Say! I think I'll pay our Autobot friend a little visit!"

Skyjack put down his padd and looked at the orange Decepticon. "Starscream said not to disturb him."

"Oh, I won't," Hooligan said unconvincingly. Then, in a deeper voice, he added, "If we don't tell Starscream, how's he going to know?"

Skyjack paused for only a beat. "True enough. Come on, Space Case. You can get some fun out of this."

The three strolled casually towards the makeshift cell as Hooligan asked, "What do you think? Should I use the acid-bulb? Or would the buzzer be better?"

"Don't try the acid," Skyjack warned. "If Starscream sees any burn marks, he'll know you're responsible."

Space Case added, "Yeah, use the buzzer. I like the way it makes them jiggle and wiggle when you roast 'em!"

Hooligan approached the door of the storeroom and tapped the combination with a practiced hand. Sliding the door open, he stepped in and announced, "Hi, Jetfire! We're here to-uh oh."

Without bothering to look, Skyjack simply said, "He's gone."

* * *

Jetfire was lost. The only features that the landscape had to offer were charred craters, wrecked buildings, and fallen towers. Nothing bore any resemblance to the landmarks he remembered-the Laboratories of Alamir, the Skyspanner Gallery, the Cyron Institute, the Kaininee Arena, and countless others. Five million years of war had turned everything into grey heaps of rubble and scrap. He flew low to the ground, weaving around the smashed remnants.

Despite the gravity of his situation, he couldn't help but think about the devastation around him. To wage civil war over a difference in ideology was one thing; to destroy all of the centers of knowledge and culture out of seemingly pointless spite was another. It's as if the Decepticons want to obliterate everything from the old order. To eliminate all of the signs of the past, so there's no history of Cybertron before they took over. What a waste! Under other circumstances, this would easily be called genoc-

A fireball suddenly appeared in front of him, forming a crater to join the countless others on the scarred surface. As Jetfire banked aside, a wild voice howled:

"Whoohahahahahoo!"

Jetfire banked once more, dodging two more missiles from Hooligan, only to be buffeted by the blasts. He was tossed towards a nest of shredded girders, and barely managed to regain control before being perforated.

Before the next barrage arrived, Jetfire pulled away from the ground and arched high into the air. After his escape from Starscream's lab, Jetfire had opted to stay low, hoping that the terrain would keep him hidden. But now that he was spotted, it was a moot point; and in the open, his greater speed should allow him to elude the Cyberjets.

Rolling to the right, Jetfire narrowly avoided a trio of rockets from Space Case and Skyjack. While he angled towards the southeast, the Decepticons fell into formation behind him. They opened fire with their guns and lasers, and Jetfire was nicked in the hail of slugs and bolts. "Oh, come now!" said Skyjack dubiously. "You don't honestly think you can escape, do you?"

Jetfire responded by opening his throttle to full. The Cyberjets fired their rockets in a conic pattern, forcing Jetfire to hold his course to avoid a hit. The swarm quickly passed him by, only to converge in front of him and explode into a curtain of red and orange blossoms.

His sharpest turn wasn't sharp enough, and Jetfire screamed as he broke through the firewall. An immediate wingover to the left enabled him to dodge the brunt of a second onslaught. His speed advantage was neutralized; there was no way to dodge the firewalls without slowing drastically. With his stamina already sapped by the day's events, charging directly through them was not an option.

The Cyberjets launched another bombardment. Jetfire suddenly braked to avoid the attack, allowing the Decepticons to close the distance. Machine guns firing, Skyjack flatly said, "Really, mon ami. How do you, unarmed and alone, expect to defeat the three of us? I thought you had more sense."

Space Case yelled, "Yeah! Even I'm smarter than that!"

Jetfire said nothing as he spiraled away from a burst of laser fire. Spotting a crevice in the ground, he aimed for it, then opened his engines in a sudden power dive. The Cyberjets turned to follow with weapons blasting, and Jetfire bobbed like a kite in a hurricane as he dodged the bullets and rockets and energy bolts aimed at him.

"Oh, please!" Hooligan laughed.

Snapping his wings shut, Jetfire darted through the opening and found himself in an abandoned drop shaft. Though it was completely dark, his radar systems told him the way was clear, so he flew through at top speed.

The tunnel ended seconds later, opening into a vast chamber. Cybertron below was an echo of Cybertron above: rubble laid all over the dusty remains of a civilization long dead. The glass-walled towers, massive domed stadiums, secluded parks, and pristine buildings of a hundred forms were laid before him, wantonly cracked and callously mashed. Dim lights in the ceiling coated everything in a dismal amber, while a broken network of roads weaved among the remains, a cobweb of steel smothering the city's carcass.

A crushing agony gripped him, but Jetfire set it aside brusquely and began to search among the wreckage. Now was not the time for melancholic sentiments; if he could escape, there'd be time to grieve later.

Hooligan's manic whoop rang from behind, and Jetfire stole a glance just as the Cyberjets popped out of the shaft. With a deadly synchronized grace, the three aircraft turned towards the wayward Autobot, then raced forward with guns and lasers blazing hungrily.

Evading the attack, Jetfire fell sharply and fired his engines, skimming low over the floor of the subterranean level. He flew as fast as he dared, but it wasn't enough; piles of debris were everywhere, turning the ground into a haphazard obstacle course, and he had to constantly brake to avoid a crippling collision. In contrast, the Cyberjets were not encumbered at all-with their uncanny agility, they easily swerved around the obstacles and quickly closed the distance.

"We're coming to get you!" Space Case taunted.

"Never!"

Jetfire banked hard to the left, barely clearing a slab of iron that curled from the floor. He was rewarded with a shuddering pain as Hooligan's lasers riddled his side. With a mild cry, Jetfire angled away from the attack, then veered back towards the right.

Arriving at a central transport nub, he suddenly barrel-rolled to the left, dropped three levels, then swooped beneath the dilapidated remnants of an octuple-layered highway overcrossing. Without missing a beat, Jetfire cut his speed, then dove towards the center of the underlying supports, gyrating dangerously through the field of rusted metal pillars.

The Cyberjets twisted through the maze with indifferent grace. The densely-packed web did not deter them in the least; though their constant course changes played havoc with their aim, the Decepticons continued to blindly fire their weapons, and Jetfire was nicked and scratched by many of the shots.

In a flat tone, Skyjack said, "Fun's fun, Jetfire, but it's time to end the game. Hooligan--!"

"Right!"

On cue, the two warriors raced forward, advancing in a pincer move. Braking hard to the right, Jetfire narrowly sidestepped a column as he activated the jammer.

The results were instantaneous. Hooligan plowed into a pillar at over five hundred miles an hour, shredding half of his fuselage in a rain of shrapnel. A moment later, Skyjack rammed into a horizontal support brace at six hundred and eight. Smashing cleanly through the bar, he fell into an erratic tumble before crumpling violently into a second column.

Breaking clear of the nest of supports, Jetfire reared into a sharp climb and opened his engines to full, and the heady rush of achievement flooded him as he arched towards the chamber's canopy It worked! We can neutralize their augmentors! And once I get back to Autobase, we can-

A fireball erupted directly behind Jetfire, and the shockwave of the blast flailed him through the air. Quickly regaining control, he spotted a second incoming missile, closely avoiding it with a rapid drop. The air was suddenly thick with missiles, and Jetfire instinctively raced away from the assault.

"You--!" Space Case bellowed, swiftly unleashing another barrage of warheads. The thunderous cacophony of explosions rocked the chamber, causing debris to begin raining down from the ceiling. Erring on the side of prudence, Jetfire turned away from the enraged Decepticon and fired his engines on full.

He was rewarded with a piercing pain that jolted down his side. Spiraling away from another attack, Jetfire activated his internal diagnostics and quickly confirmed his suspicions: his right engine was damaged, and required major repairs before he could fly at top speed again.

Oblivious to it all, Space Case charged forward, roaring vehemently, "I'll kill you, Autobot! Kill you! Kill you!"

Jetfire wobbled through the air as he continued to evade the attack. His efforts were only partially successful; though his aim was jarred by blind anger, Space Case's blasts were still close enough to hurt. Worse, Space Case was deliberately keeping his distance, as if aware that getting closer to Jetfire could prove dangerous.

A near-miss ruptured underneath Jetfire's right wing and he cried in scorching agony. Only by sheer force of will did he manage to stay focused on the situation, successfully dodging two more shots that whizzed by him. Spotting a drop shaft in the ceiling, he bolted for it, leaving behind a chain of explosions to rock the port behind him.

Four seconds passed before Jetfire broke out onto Cybertron's surface. He found himself in the center of another abandoned hamlet, and barely had time to level off before Space Case arrived. Jetfire flew low, curving quickly around mounds of rubble and an endless assortment of abandoned buildings. The escape was made even more dangerous by Space Case's fury, as erratic missiles exploded against the ruins and scattered debris in every direction.

Jetfire rushed in panic, his attention divided between dodging the obstacles in front and the rockets behind. The jury-rigged jammer had been good for only one burst and was totally useless now; without his weapons or his superior speed, that left him at a severe disadvantage. As a pair of missiles erupted behind him, Jetfire dove beneath a low cylindrical bridge, searching for something that he could-

The dull crunch of mangled metal suddenly shot into the air.

Jetfire stole a furtive glance behind, but saw nothing. A second, longer look confirmed the first: of Space Case, his missile barrage, and his righteous anger, nothing could be seen. If not for the painful injuries that racked his body, Jetfire could have dismissed the entire experience as a dream.

Despite the risk to himself, he hesitantly climbed. The expected ambush did not materialize, and Jetfire slowly began to lower his guard. He quickly dismissed the chance that the lull was a ruse of some sort; Space Case's rage was unarguably thorough, and while he was not an expert in psychology, Jetfire couldn't believe that the Decepticon had simply abandoned the chase.

Curiosity tugged at him now, the familiar thirst for knowledge and answers and understanding, urging him to turn around and find out what had happened. With great reluctance, Jetfire set it aside; his wounds were far from trivial, and to put himself at risk was unimaginably reckless. And if the secrets of the Cyberjets were going to be used, then he had to deliver them to the Autobots as soon as possible.

Taking one final glance at the enigmatic scene, Jetfire flew away.

* * *

If Megatron was in a more reflective mood, he might have appreciated the image before him. On the communications monitor were Starscream and Shockwave, transmitting from Cybertron. Starscream, despite his vast skills as a warrior and a scientist, was a constant thorn in Megatron's side. He was a would-be usurper, whose contempt for Megatron's leadership and his dreams of command were known to all. Shockwave, on the other hand, was a proven administrator, a logic-driven administrator who had served Megatron for millions of years. He followed all orders faithfully, and had never expressed anything resembling treason or dissatisfaction. They have long stood for opposite ends of his rule, now standing on opposite ends of the screen. At another time, Megatron might have smiled slightly at the contrast they currently presented.

Right now, however, Megatron saw nothing but ineptitude and felt nothing but anger.

"It was a mistake!" Starscream's image shrieked. "They're both white-how could I tell them apart from eight miles away?"

"Idiot!" Megatron roared for the tenth time in as many minutes. "You could have shot both of them with your null rays! It's bad enough you hit Space Case instead, but you also let Jetfire get away! There's no excuse for such total incompetence!"

Starscream glowered defiantly, standing firm in the storm of his leader's fury. "You want a sharpshooter? Fine! Get Nightracer to do the job! Just don't come crawling to me when she can't repair your precious Cyberjets!"

Megatron seethed angrily before quickly addressing the other. "Shockwave! Have you finished analyzing the schematics yet?"

"Of course, mighty Megatron," the violet robot coolly replied. Turning his featureless face to an off-screen keyboard, he tapped a few keys. "We have the facilities required by the Cyberjets here. Trauma is more than capable of performing the necessary repairs. I estimate that they can be returned to full operational status in 22.65 days."

Megatron's fingers tightened on the edge of his console as he simmered in righteous silence. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "Fine ... Shockwave, after the Cyberjets have been repaired, I'm putting you in charge of them. When they're not on Earth on assignment for me, you will dispatch them around Cybertron as needed to fight the Autobots."

Shockwave's single yellow eye flashed in affirmation. "I shall also continue the testing of our other warriors to find suitable candidates for the Cyberjet adaptation process."

Megatron nodded, then turned back to Starscream. "As for you, Starscream ... I want you to return to Earth immediately. You have no reason to stay on Cybertron any longer, and I expect a full report on this debacle as soon as you return! Is that clear?!"

Starscream gaped for a moment, then slowly cranked his jaw shut. With a muted whisper, he said, "Yes, Megatron."

"Good ... Shockwave, prepare the Space Bridge for Starscream's departure."

As he reached for the communications controls, Megatron allowed himself a small, feral smile. "I expect this to be a very ... interesting ... meeting."

* * *

Another time, another place, another conversation.

"Are you sure, Jetfire?"

"Yes. I can do my work here on Cybertron just as well as on Earth. And my presence there is redundant anyway; the Aerialbots are more than capable at providing air support for you."

On the communications console screen, Optimus Prime nodded. "That is true. We will miss you, Jetfire. I'm sure I speak for all of the Autobots here when I say that you've been an invaluable member of our team."

"Thank you. I hope to prove myself useful here."

"You have," Ultra Magnus said from Jetfire's side. "Your discovery of the Cyberjets' secrets is the best morale booster we've had in ages. Override is already volunteering to lead the next attack against the Decepticons, once we're finished building those new jammers." With a mild chuckle, he added, "And he's not the only one. Towchain had to threaten to tie down Fastlane just to keep him in the infirmary."

"I guess it's settled, then," Prime said. "Magnus, I will contact you next week according to our usual schedule. Jetfire ... good-bye, and good luck."

"Thanks, Optimus."

With a final farewell nod, the image of the Autobot Leader blinked off the display. Jetfire slowly stood and groaned, which prompted Magnus to ask, "Speaking of which, have you reported to the infirmary yet?"

"No, I haven't," Jetfire confessed as the two of them stepped out of the communications center.

"Why not?"

"Because I need a little more time to finish my analysis of the Cyberjets first. Once I have a set of detailed schematics, I want to talk to Towchain about rebuilding me into one."

Magnus gave a sudden start, then quickly regained his composure. "Is it possible?"

"Yes, it is. Between the results from my sensor scans and Starscream's comments, it isn't too hard to reverse-engineer their designs. And I happen to have the brain-speed requirements needed for the conversion."

"Amazing ... but then, won't our new weapons affect you, too?"

"Yes. But it isn't a problem; all the jammers do is neutralize the augmentors, giving regular reflexes instead of enhanced ones. It shouldn't be a problem as long as I don't become dependent on the enhanced speeds."

"Unlike the Decepticons," Magnus added.

The two continued in silence, finally stopping in front of Jetfire's quarters. As Jetfire stepped inside, Magnus said, "I suppose we're lucky that Starscream was pretentious enough to talk about the Cyberjets' workings with you. That's not his usual style; the Starscream I know only has insults for everyone."

Jetfire stopped short. You don't know Starscream at all, he wanted to say. All you see is the arrogant warrior and the selfish manipulator. That's not Starscream; that's not the devoted scientist and the brilliant thinker who I knew. No, Magnus. You've never seen the real Starscream ... and unless I can save him, you never will.

He wanted to say that, but he didn't dare. None of the Autobots would believe him, after all. Besides, the feelings were too deep, too complex, and far too personal to be shared.

Instead, with a terse nod, Jetfire whispered, "People change..."

The End