Family Ties

Transformers: Family Ties (c)Copyright 1998 Melissa McCook Melody Silver/Golden Eighth Note Ltd. TRANSFORMERS(tm) AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF HASBRO, INC. USED WITHOUT PERMISSION. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR SALE OR PUBLICATION AND IS NOT INTENDED TO CONSTITUTE AN ACT OF PLAGARISM OR A BREACH OF COPYRIGHT.

Banished!

Razorsharp looked at the ruined towers of Polyhex, her optics searching out the shattered spires of Darkmount, the central fortress on the highest rise of the deserted city. Once, this had been the jewel of the Decepticon Empire. _And the worst part is that I will never again be welcome inside that Empire._

The skyline of the city was an exact duplicate of what she had been forced to leave behind-or, rather, the fotress built on the planet Mars was a copy of this once-great bastion of Decepticon society. Most of the Decepticons had long abandoned Cybertron, though many longed to return to it one day. Straxus, the Lord High Govenor of both cities, had made Razorsharp's return an unquestionable reality.

Her gaze caressed the sight of the towers, much like a lover wishing to engrave the features of her beloved on her memory forever. "Night sight," she commanded, and her already heightened visuals became suited for piercing even the blackest darkness. There under the magnification were the windows on the upper towers, and she could pick out the floor of the Govenor's quarters. Razorsharp let herself slip into fanciful remembrance of her former life, seeing in her mind's eye the corridors filled with light and motion. One by one, in her memory, the windows of the fortress grew bright, and she at last came to the nursery window.

"Oh, my children," she breathed, in thrall of the memory. She wanted to reach out to them; Sirius, so much like his father, Destiny, her little arms stretched wide, and Velocity, in the arms of Soundwave.

"Razorsharp," he intoned, his odd metal voice echoing in her memory. "Razorsharp..."

"Lady Razor?"
The memory suddenly dissapated into thin air, and the lights of the fortress went dark. "NO!" she howled, whirling with her blade drawn.

"HEY!!" The voice belonged to a slight femme, short dark wings protruding from her shoulders and the cockpit of a human-designed plane covering her chestplate. Her royal blue and deep purple colors were a bit gaudier than Razorsharp's, but the two might have been sisters--if not for the bright red Autobot symbol on the other's black wings. "Razor, what are you doing here?"

Razorsharp lowered her blade, but did not put it away. "Lady Stealth. I---I am sorry. I expected no one to be here."

Stealth crossed her arms over the cockpit window on her chest and smirked a little. "That's obvious, but you still didn't answer my question."

The Deceptifemme found herself with a mouthful of her master's words. "Why should I explain myself to an Autobot?" she snapped icily.

The blue optics of the Autobot woman widened a bit. "Well, that answers my next question. You're still hanging around Straxus; that's something I'd expect to hear out of him."

Deflated, Razorsharp hung her head slightly. "It is something you would expect to hear...and something I will never hear again, at least not from his harmonizer."

Stealth frowned, putting a slender hand on Razorsharp's shoulder. "What do you mean? Is-is he dead?"

"No." The other shook her graceful head. "My lord lives, but it is I who wish I were dead."

"What are you talking about? Razor, what's happened?"

Sighing, Razorsharp looked up into the Autobot's concerned optics. "I have been banished from Darkmount. I will never be able to return, on pain of death if I set foot within the city again."

Stealth looked up at the silent towers. "I don't understand. No one's lived here for-well, as long as I can remember. Why would he banish you from a ruined city?"

Razorsharp smiled. "Oh, I assure you, Lady Stealth, Darkmount is alive and well, hidden from the prying eyes of your Autobot sensors." Then her smile faded, and she turned away from Stealth. "And I shall see it nevermore," she whispered mournfully.

Optimus must be informed of this, Stealth thought, but she pressed on for more information. "Why did he banish you, Razor?"

"That is not important. What is important is that I will never see my children again." She raised brimming ruby optics to the Autobot femme. "He told them I was killed, to spare them knowing I live as a traitor."

With a sharp intake of her synthisized breath, Stealth's hand flew to her mouth. "He told them-oh, Razor." Impulsively, Stealth drew Razorsharp into her arms and hugged her tightly. "What a monster. I'm so sorry."

Unaccustomed to the physical contact, Razorsharp froze for a moment, but finally managed to hug Stealth back. "Thank you, Lady Stealth, for your compassion. It is...appreciated." Normally, Razorsharp didn't make a habit of thanking an Autobot for anything, but she chalked it up to her sagging emotional state and let it go.

"We'd better go tell Optimus what's happened," Stealth said, pulling away and wiping her optics. "Maybe he can help us get your children back for you."
"NO!" Razorsharp wrenched her grip out of Stealths'. "We must not, we must not do anything of the sort! My master will kill them before he lets the Autobots capture them, even if it is to reunite them with me! I cannot let that happen. I WILL not let that happen." Her ruby optics flared, and Stealth stepped back with a hand to her own throat. "And as much as I long to see them again...I will not risk their lives for that chance." She turned to Stealth, her optics still bright with determination, the eerie light from the ruby crystals giving Stealth the impression her fellow femme was possessed. "Do I have your promise, Lady Stealth, that you will not try and convince Optimus Prime to steal my children from their father?"

Stealth nodded almost before she knew what she was doing. "Of course you have my promise, Razor. I have a son of my own...I would give my own life for him."

The light in her eyes finally fading, Razorsharp came back to herself. "I did not know you had a son, Lady Stealth," she said, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, I do." Stealth smiled, unable to help feeling just a bit proud. "Clutch. He looks so much like his father, just like a little MadRage."

"MadRage!" Razorsharp clenched her blade hand into a fist at the name of the crazy Autobot who helped her blow up SkyCrag base. "You mean, MadRage is your mate?" The memory of the cocky neon-green Autobot with the odd golden optics and the taste for cold Decepticon blood came back in a flash of reality, as did the remembrance of Shockwave snatching her from her den.

There was an Autobot with me, she had howled at the huge Decepticon. Why not go after him? I am less than nothing for your precious Straxus to worry about.
Make no mistake, MadRage will be dealt with. I think you have more pressing concerns at this microsecond, Shockwave had countered, rocketing them both into the starry Cybertron night, and Razorsharp into her destiny.

"Razor?" Stealth's voice drew Razorsharp out of the past, a worried frown on the Autobot's finely wrought face. "Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?"

Shaking her head, Razorsharp fought back the urge to succumb to the memories of what followed after Shockwave took her to Mars. "Forgive me, Lady Stealth. My previous experience with MadRage was not something I care to dwell on, that is all."

Stealth's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"Optimus Prime knew me from...before...and when we crossed paths again, he offered me a job." Razorsharp gazed across the scarred landscape at the shadowy city. "I refused to join the Autobots, but Optimus asked me to work for him as a mercenary. He paired me with MadRage, and we destroyed SkyCrag."

"That was you?" Stealth breathed, remembering those uncertain days.

The Deceptifemme smiled faintly at the memory. "A suicide mission. I wanted to rip Optimus Prime apart for that."

The frown on Stealth's face returned, this time dangerously close to indignation. "Hey, wait! It wasn't Optimus' fault, you could have said no."

"Oh?" Razorsharp turned back to face Stealth, arms crossed. "If you were starving, scraping for every molecule of energon you could get, being hunted by both your own kind and your enemy, what would you do? You would lick Megatron's boots for the chance at survival, if he offered it." She hugged herself, her voice a whisper, as if she were afraid the ghosts of Polyhex would hear. "I was hungry. I am not proud of it...but we must go the way our fates pull."

"So what now?" Stealth asked, scanning the sparkling heavens above them. "Looks like your fates have pulled you to us again. Are you reconsidering your decision?"

"No--my sigil is all I have left, I could not possibly..." The proud body slumped the barest millimeter. "I am still a Decepticon, Lady Stealth. Even if it is just in my own mind, I am still a Decepticon. Nothing will ever change that."

Stealth sighed. "Well, whatever you are, or whatever you think you are, you can't stay out here forever. The Decepticons will hunt you down, and some Autobot out on patrol will catch you and you'll be just as dead. Let's go talk to Optimus and see what he says." She put her arm around Razorsharp's shoulders and gently drew her away from the dark cityscape. "Come on, it'll be okay. I promise."



Passing through the heavily guarded South Gate of Iacon took some persuasion on Stealth's part as well as a personal verification from Optimus, but the two femmes made their way to the Central Compound uncontested. As they approached, Razorsharp heard the joyful sounds of a child at play, and a rumble of bass laughter that could only belong to Optimus Prime. She fancied that if she just switched her optics off for a moment, the voices would be those of Sirius and Straxus, back in their quarters in Darkmount....

"Honey, I'm home!" Stealth crowed, shattering Razorsharp's desperate fantasy. "Have you been a good boy for Optimus today?"

Clutch, a small green mech with swaths of metal hanging in his face like Stealth and odd yellow optics like his father, turned from where he was running a miniature replica of Prime along the ground. "MOMMY!" he screeched when he recognized Stealth, abandoning his toy to fling himself at his mother's kneecaps.

Stealth laughed, picking her son up and settling him on her hip as Optimus stood in the presence of both femmes. "Did you have fun?"

"C'utch good boy," the little mech said, giggling as Stealth tickled him. "Huh, Op'imus?"

Stepping closer, Optimus chuckled again. "Yes, Clutch, you've been very good today." His titanium brows drew together slightly as he regarded Razorsharp, whom he had recognized as she stood half-hidden in the shadows. "Lady Razorsharp," he said evenly, his blue optics glimmering as he tried to gauge her reaction. "Welcome to Iacon."

The Deceptifemme inclined her head slightly, not taking her wary gaze from him for a moment. "Hail, Optimus Prime," Razorsharp said coolly, using the Decepticon greeting for a respected adversary.

The formality was not lost on Prime, who kept his hands on his hips in a deceptively relaxed stance. "What brings you out our way?"

Razorsharp's harlequin face became masklike. "Morbid curiosity."

"I see." Prime turned to Stealth, who raised an optic ridge. "Stealth tells me you've met with some unfortunate circumstances."

"Unfortunate circumstances?" Razorsharp laughed brokenly. "I thought Autobots prized the truth." She nodded toward Clutch, who had ceased his childish banter with his mother and was now studying Razorsharp very seriously. "Why spare this young one the harsh realities? I was unceremoniously ousted from Darkmount...from my home, my family...and my children..." One gauntleted hand flew to her cold blue lips, the sobs threatening again.

Prime stepped closer, but Stealth stopped him with an outstretched hand. "I told Razorsharp that we might be able to help her." She put an arm around Razorsharp, and the Deceptifemme wept silently into Stealth's wingblade. "She's got nowhere else to go, Optimus. We can't leave her out there, in Old Polyhex. It would just be a matter of time before Straxus found her and killed her, or some trigger-happy Autobot came across her skulking around the ruins."

"A valid point, Stealth." Prime tapped a fingertip against his polished faceplate in thought. "Well, I hate to impose, but if Lady Razorsharp would agree, could she bunk in with you?"

"Of course. Just until Maddie gets back, though."

A frown crossed the visible part of Optimus' face. "Ah, yes, well....let's go inside, everybody. We're losing the light and it's bound to get cold shortly." All four mechs glanced toward the waning curve of light from Sol, the daystar Cybertron currently shared with Earth, and Stealth shivered with a sudden chill as Optimus escorted them into the fortress.



"Where is MadRage?" Razorsharp wondered acidically, as the foursome made their way down the well-lit hallways of the main building. "Is he on another one of your suicide missions, Optimus Prime?"

Stealth tried to will her sudden tears back into her methanol tank, but she found it impossible at the mention of her lover's name. "Here, Optimus, take Clutch while I get Razorsharp settled," she asked, her voice cracking a little with emotion. Prime did as she asked without hesitation, his millennia of experience knowing that Stealth needed another femme to commiserate with, and he hung back as Razorsharp and Stealth continued down the hallway.

"The Decepticons have...they have captured MadRage," she whispered, keeping her optics focused on the hallway ahead of her as Razorsharp walked alongside.

Part of her bristling with accusation, the Deceptifemme put a hand on Stealth's arm. "Are you certain? He is not just offline somewhere, unable to contact you, possibly?"

Stealth's hands were shaking so badly, it took her several seconds to key the security code, but the door finally slid open and allowed both femmes to step inside. "Lights on," Stealth said automatically, and the room was suddenly bathed in a soft golden glow from lights hidden in the wall panels. Busying herself with preparing a bottle of nutrient for Clutch, Stealth spoke hurriedly, glancing at the door to see when Optimus would walk in with her son. "MadRage doesn't know he has a child; I found out I was pregnant a few days after he disappeared. I coded Clutch's synapses so he dosen't miss MadRage; his systems sort of ignore the name when he hears it. Until he returns, Optimus is filling in, and I think he's doing a rather good job." The warming plate was blazing a bright orange now, and Stealth absently turned it down, the orange glow eerily highlighting her faceplate.

"Until he returns?" Razorsharp stood easily in the center of the kitchen, and Stealth marvelled that no matter what, the Decepticon kept herself in a position of graceful readiness. "Lady Stealth, you must realize that His Excellency will not hesitate to kill MadRage, if it suits him." She didn't move, distancing herself in typical Decepticon fashion from pain and sorrow. "You must accept the fact that MadRage may already be dead."

Stealth's head lowered, the sculpted strips of metal that hung over her forehead veiling her expression. "I can't let myself stop thinking that he's alive, Razor. If I give up..." she raised her head to face Razorsharp, thick methanol tears tracking their way down her cheeks. "I promised myself that I wouldn't give up, for Clutch's sake. That's the only hope I have to hold onto."

"You may have yet another," Razorsharp said evenly, folding her arms across her chestplate. "It may be only that--a hope--but something just occurred to me." She fixed Stealth with her ruby red optics, noticing that Stealth's hands were gripping the countertop so tightly, her fingers were leaving divots in the surface. "MadRage is not your average Autobot. If His Excellency had captured him, I am almost certain that all of Darkmount would know. And being my lord's bheancoran, I would almost certainly be privy to that sort of information, even if it were not public knowledge."

With a supreme effort, Stealth raised her head and looked at the wiry femme, trying to detect any duplicity in her friend's face. "What are you saying, Razor?"

"I am saying what I am saying--and that is that I do not believe MadRage is being held in Darkmount."

Suddenly, Stealth's tightly wound frame began to relax, and she felt the floor sliding out from under her. She gripped the edge of the countertop to keep her feet, willing herself once more to not break out in hysterical sobs, and in a few moments, her servos felt like they would support her weight again. "If not in Darkmount, then where?" she whispered, half afraid that if she spoke aloud, everything would shatter and she would wake up, screaming MadRage's name into the darkness of the night.

Razorsharp shrugged, a gesture that cleaved Stealth to her bare circuitry. "It is difficult to say. He could be anywhere...unless..." she trailed off, tapping a tapered finger against her cold electric blue lips.

"UNLESS WHAT?" Stealth's voice had an icy edge to it that raked unpleasantly against Razorsharp's synapses.

"Why did I not think of it sooner?" Razorsharp began to laugh mirthlessly, the sound chilling Stealth's energon in her fuel lines. "I know precisely where MadRage is--he is on Charr."

"Are you certain? How do you know that?"
Razorsharp snorted indignantly, her pride smarting. "Of course I'm certain. I am the bheancoran to the Lord High Governor of Darkmount, not some scrub neutral; I know that's where MadRage is being held." She smirked a little. "A fitting place, meant for the scum of the universe. MadRage is in good company."

Stealth balled her hands into fists at her sides, her blue optics darkening angrily. "Don't say that. Maddie's a kind, sweet loving mech. He's on the right side."

Waving Stealth's words away like smoke, Razorsharp frowned. "Oh, tosh. I am not here to dispute MadRage's morality, so do not get snippy. Do you want me to help you find him or not? Because rest assured, Lady, I am the only Decepticon in the Armada that wants to..." she paused, as if to swallow something bitter. "...To find him alive."

Her anger subsiding a little, Stealth's optics lightened to their usual bright sapphire and her body relaxed. "You--you really mean that? You're--going to help me find him?"

The Decepticon's chin dipped slightly, the graceful swaths of metal on her helmet swaying with the motion. She stepped forward and put her half-gauntleted hand against Stealth's cheek, the Autobot freezing stock still. "At least one child in this universe will have both parents to watch them grow."

Behind Razorsharp, the door opened to reveal Optimus and Clutch, the former clearly trying to catch his breath. Razorsharp stepped away from Stealth and dropped her hand as the door opened, and turned to face the massive Autobot leader as he set Clutch down.

"Sorry we're late," Optimus huffed, "Clutch wanted down, then proceeded to take off at a run. Seems like he wanted to play tag more than behave at the moment."

Stealth snapped out of her immobility and smiled at them both. "Oh, really?" She bent down to take Clutch in her arms and hug him, and the little mech threw his arms around her neck. "You should mind Optimus, Clutch, he was just trying to keep you safe."

Clutch pulled back with a winning smile. "C'utch like playing tag with Op'imus," he beamed. Then his face darkened soberly. "Sorry, Mommy. C'utch be good boy."

"That's my little soldier," Stealth beamed, setting him down on the floor. "Optimus, Razor, make yourselves at home. Can I offer anyone something to drink?"

Optimus took a seat near the door in his favorite chair, his lanky frame relaxing into an informal sprawl. "Energon, please," he asked politely, the edges of his optics crinkling into what passed for a smile. "Chasing Clutch always manages to make me thirsty."

Nodding, Stealth drew a glass of glowing cooled liquid from the replicator. "Razor, how about you?"

Seating herself gracefully on the couch across from Optimus, Razorsharp shook her head. "No, thank you. I do not require anything."

Accepting his glass from Stealth, Optimus eyed the Deceptifemme perched on the padded sofa. _Still so formal, still so cold. She never changes,_ he mused as Stealth moved around the coffee table and sat on the far end of the couch.

"Milk?" A soft voice floated down to them from the ventilation duct above Stealth's head, and everyone looked up to see a pure white cat sitting framed in the porthole. To Razor's surprise, the cat rippled down from his perch and hit the floor with a soft 'whump' and began to approach her with what clearly was curiosity in his odd crystalline eyes. Unsure, Razor reached for her blade, but Stealth stopped her with an outstretched hand.

"No, Razor, he won't hurt you...Hi, Neko." Stealth smiled as the cat stretched and went to rub himself against her ankles. "This is Neko," she explained. "He helps Optimus and me look after Clutch." She called out to her son, holding out the warmed bottle of nutrient. "Clutch, Mommy has your bottle, better come get it before Neko does."

"Oh." The Deceptifemme laughed slightly. "It appears I'm more on edge than I thought." She looked at the cat, who had turned his attention from Stealth to Razor and was padding silently toward her. "Hello."

In answer, Neko jumped up onto the couch and up on the back, positioning himself so Razor had to shift in her seat to keep him in view. "Hi," he purred softly, brushing his whiskered face against her cheek.

The touch of his silky fur against her titanium faceplate was startling, both in sensation as well as action. "Oh!" Razor gasped, a hand to where Neko had touched her, every synapse in her cheek tingling at the alien feeling.

Hiding a secret smile, Stealth broke the tableu. "Speaking of Clutch, apparently he's hiding somewhere. Can you sniff him out for me, Neko?" She grinned at Razor, who had managed to recover slightly. "Neko's also the best one to find Clutch."

Razor laughed at the mental picture. "A bloodhound cat?"
Optimus, who had mysteriously drained the glass when Razorsharp wasn't looking, laughed. "That he is. He's helped me find him many times."


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