This fic is based on something I've always wondered about

This fic is based on something I've always wondered about.

Disclaimer: Don’t own. Never will. Plot and plot devices are mine.

On with the fic.

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It was an ancient practice derived from the brilliant minds of the two of the most skilled warriors known to transformers. It required skill, cunning, bravery and ball bearings to perform. It was a deadly art if executed correctly and fatal to those who were on its receiving end.

“Get off of me you parasitic scraplet!”

“Steer, Sunstreaker, Steer! Wait! I mean away from me! Steer away from me!”

And sometimes it was fatal to those who preformed it as well; so was the practice of Jet judo.

Having almost gotten his head cleaved off by an out of control Thundercracker, no thanks to Sunstreaker, Sideswipe was currently hanging onto Skywarp with a grip that would shame the Jaws of Life. Which was a good idea considering the fact that the jet began to barrel roll in attempt to shake off the unwanted passenger.

“Your driving sucks! I’m revoking your pilot’s license later!” Sideswipe hollered at his brother through their private com-line.

“Thanks! I’ll file that notice under the not caring section, right below your plan to smother Red’s room with peanut butter!” Sunstreaker yelled back, tightening his vice grip on the blue jet’s nose as they vanished into a cloud.

“Get off!” Skywarp shrieked as he accelerated in an attempt to lose the large mech (by Autobot standards anyway) hanging off his wings. Sideswipe had no intention to free fall for 40,000 feet so he clung firm.

The jet was getting desperate. The twins were getting better at their jet judo and it was coming to the point it was near impossible to shake them off. In a last ditch attempt to lose Sideswipe, Skywarp did something that had never occurred to him to try in this particular situation.

He teleported.

With a poof, they were gone from the battlefield.

Teleporting was a strange experience. It was a brief second of darkness, and it felt like every atom in ones body was being pulled in different directions by a powerful force. You would be surrounded by a hazy, black chaos, but that would fade to light. The scenery and location would be completely different and all of your atoms would snap back together like a clap of thunder.

If you were not used to it it could be a very disorienting experience, and much to Skywarp’s delight it had the desired affect. In the woozy daze Sideswipe’s grip loosened and the warrior mech slipped off of the black seeker’s wings.

Skywarp watched gleefully as the red mech hurdled down. Satisfied with seeing the Autobot plummet toward the ground for a few more moments, and positive that there was no way that any of his idiotic, Autobot friends would be able to save him from the imminent impact, he teleported himself away to where the rest of the Decepticons were fighting the Autobots.

So, Sideswipe began the 40,000 foot free fall he had been trying to avoid. For a moment his thoughts went blank before finally registering, ‘Huh. I’m falling.’ That luckily kicked his mind into gear.

He wasn’t worried. Most Autobots would've just been screwed in that situation but Skywarp had made a fatal miscalculation regarding Sideswipe.

The red bot revved the engines of his jet pack.

After a split second delay there was an explosion of heat from the mechanism. Warmth ran down Sideswipe’s back and legs from the flames of the thrusters, and he was propelled forward at an incredible speed. It looked like he was home free.

Not three seconds later there was the sound of metal grinding on metal, and the jet pack began to click and churn in objection to being utilized so soon.

OK. So now Sideswipe was worried.

Sideswipe knew that using the jet pack again was exhausting it of its nonexistent energy. He had used it only a few minutes before to its maximum in order to reach Skywarp. It was still overheated from that time. To his horror it was only a few more seconds later that it began to waver.

Sideswipe was by then 20,000 feet into the air. All the jet pack had to do was last up until he descended to a level that would not cause him to shatter into a million metal shards if he fell.

So it went 15000 ft, 10000 ft, 5000 ft… His trusted jet pack was holding out weakly yet doing the job of keeping him airborn… 2500 ft, 1500 ft, 1000 ft, farther down he went…

Then the engine kicked out.

And since Sideswipe’s jet pack forgot not to die he dropped the last 100 feet and went crashing into the earth.

Sideswipe’s back protested the rough landing and shrieked an off key duet of rock and jet pack shrapnel. He tumbled through the dirt and rock of the desert until finally coming to a halt and, blessedly, his painful concert of screaming injuries and aching body parts came to a halt. Yet his plight did not go with out an encore.

His jet pack sputtered with a snap, a crackle and “popped” with a small fireworks show before fizzling into the world of the broken and busted. Sideswipe ripped it off his back and stared at the steaming engine aghast.

“Ah come on, don’t do this to me!” Sideswipe cried melodramatically attempting to resuscitate the mangled machine with the ever effective ‘smack it until it works’ method. It gave one last pitiful pop before breaking down completely. Sideswipe mourned solemnly, “You were a great partner in the heat of battle and never failed me. May you rest in piece in the Matrix little buddy… and say hi to that thing Wheeljack made last week. It was actually pretty cool before it detonated.”

With his dead jet pack in tow, Sideswipe straightened to a stand and brushed himself free of dirt and sand. Placing his free hand on his hip he took a look around.

“Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Sideswipe muttered to his lifeless jet pack. “Might as well see where over the rainbow we were tossed off at.”

He tried accessing his built in GPS and was received by earsplitting feedback. “OW! What the frick? ” he recoiled in shock and pain and shut the malfunctioning system off as fast he physically could. His audios continued to ring long after the horrific noise stopped.

“My navigational system must’ve been fragged on my landing.” He tried accessing his comline but only got white noise. “And my comlink is fried too. Wonderful.”

It was time for good old fashion observational skills.

Sideswipe’s gaze swept the area. The ground was the same dry, cracked terrain speckled with shrubs as the other place had been. He was still in Nevada’s great Basin desert that much was certain. Problem was the desert stretched all the way from California to Utah. He could've been anywhere in that space.

How was he going to get back? Should he wait until the Autobots traced him? Would they even be able to trace him with all of his navigational and system beacons fragged? Or should he hazard attempting to find his way back himself? He was no Hound, and had minimal tracking skills, but he was sure he’d be able to find the base. How hard could it be?

Some 300 yards away he could see the highway. That was always a good start. He jogged over to it quickly, scowling all the while. Every time he stepped on one of the spindly shrub plants their twiggy bodies would get wedged into the grip plating on the bottom of his ped. They crunched unpleasantly and he figured he’d be getting splitters out of those joints for at least a week.

When he reached the highway he stood and stared at it dumbly, looking both ways in indecision. Which way should he go?

Not a moment to soon though he saw something that completely halted all questions regarding how he would get back to the Ark.

Rolling down the cracked, bleached asphalt he could see two familiar vehicles. A red Freightliner Cab-over-engine truck and a black and white Porsche were barreling down the deserted roadway.

Sideswipe's lip components lifted to form a grin. Talk about getting rescued by the Calvary. Now he wouldn’t have to navigate his way back to the Ark.

“Optimus? Jazz! Hey, over here!” He called waving his arms, jumping up and down frantically. The two vehicles bypassed him completely and kept on going. Sideswipe stopped his what looked to be interpretative rain dancing, and for a brief moment was insulted by the fact he was completely ignored. “Where are you going? Wait up!” He called.

The red Lamborghini transformed, revved his engines and sped behind the two retreating figures in the distance.

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The Decepticons had finally retreated. Unfortunately they had been able to get an ample amount of energon cubes from a coal plant in the great Basin.

The Autobots were busy tending to their wounded on the field before they left. There had been a couple of casualties in the fray but they hadn’t been severe, and no life had been lost. Cliffjumper had one of his horns broken off via Ravage, Sunstreaker was out cold after being dropped on his head by Thundercracker, and nobody could even get near Windcharger because his magnetic field was fritzing. The poor Bot was covered in half of their group’s weaponry and any stray metal parts.

As the Bot’s were patching themselves together Jazz did the headcount to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Everyone was there except for a single, red Lamborghini.

Jazz sighed in minor annoyance. Normally he had no problems with the young bot’s antics but he just wanted to get back home. He was missing a monster movie marathon on channel 7.

He activated his comlink and transmitted a message over to Sideswipe. “Hey, Sides. The battle’s over. Come out from wherever you-” He was cut short as the sound of white noise. Jazz stood in puzzlement before he tried sharpening the frequency. “Sideswipe?” The electrical buzz only got louder. That had never happened before.

If the bot had just turned his com off there’d be more off a humming sound. The frequency he was receiving was the kind that only happened when the com was broken or…

Oh, Slag.

He looked frantically around to make sure he hadn’t just missed Sideswipe amongst the crowd. He wasn’t there.

Jazz saw Warpath and Trailbreaker walking some ways away. They had both been in the twin’s initial squad during the Decepticon raid. Perhaps they saw the missing twin. Jazz ran to catch up to him.

“Hey, Warpath, Trailbreaker!” He hailed the two as he closed the distance with a few more steps.

“What's up, Jazz, ZOOM!?” Warpath greeted.

“Sideswipe was in your group, right? Have either of ya seen him anywhere?” Jazz asked nervously. Warpath blinked in confusion and gave Trailbreaker a questioning look. The defensive strategist shrugged.

“He and his brother, ZAP, attacked the Decepticon jets. I haven’t, BOOM, seen him since,” Warpath finally said.

“Yeah. At the beginning of the battle the two just jetted off to antagonize the Seekers. Last I saw he was terrorizing Skywarp,” Trailbreaker began thoughtfully. “Why? Do you need him for something?”

Jazz stood in stony silence.

Seekers? Skywarp?

“Uh oh.” Jazz tried his comline again and received static once more. He tried talking anyway. “Come on, Sideswipe, this isn’t funny! Where are ya?”

No reply.

“Wait. You mean Sideswipe’s not here?” Trailbreaker asked in surprise.

“I can’t get ‘em on the horn,” Jazz said, voice slightly panicked, as he kept trying to call. “And I can’t detect his energy signal in the immediate area!”

“Did he, WAM, desert us?” Warpath asked horrified. Jazz shot him a dirty look.

“You stupid? Sideswipe wouldn’t go up and leave the Autobot’s like that! And he definitely wouldn’t just leave his brother behind!”

But if that wasn't the case then it meant Sideswipe was missing.

Trailbreaker was silent… “Do you think the Decepticons-” He quieted and the others shifted uncomfortably.

The three mechs didn't even want to think of that possibility.

"NAw. Sideswipe wouldn't let himself be-"

Jazz was cut off by a deep, fourth voice. “Jazz?”

Warpath and Trailbreaker jumped at the sound, but Jazz calmly looked back to see Optimus Prime standing behind there.

“Hey, Prime,” Jazz said in an airy tone.

Their leader was scuffed from the battle but appeared to be faring well. “How are the troops doing?”

“Pretty good… I guess,” Jazz began vaguely.

“You guess,” Prime repeated flatly.

“Everyone’s here for the most part but…” Jazz shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

“But what?” Optimus asked with his voice laced with tension.

“We lost Sideswipe,” Jazz blurted quickly.

Those three words gave Optimus a slight start, and a numb feeling washed through his body. He stood quietly for a few seconds but finally he asked, “How did it happen?”

“We’re not, ZOWIE, sure. He was fighting Skywarp and just like that, POW, he was gone,” Warpath stated solemnly.

Optimus hunched over somberly but quickly straightened. “Does Sunstreaker know?”

“Not yet. Thundercracker was able to shake Sunstreaker off and he sort of… landed on his head. Ratchet says he won’t be awake for a while,” Jazz grimly explained.

“I see. Was the body recovered?”

Warpath looked at him quizzically. “Err… What, BAM, body?”

Optimus’s optics widened. Had the young warrior’s body been completely vaporized? How? Why?

This was a grim day for the Autobots indeed.

“I… I will inform Sunstreaker of his brother’s loss...and the other troops...” The gold warrior was going to be devastated. Ratchet probably wasn't going to fare well with the news either but it was his duty as Prime...

Trailbreaker and Warpath shared a confused look.

“Oh…” understanding suddenly dawned on Jazz. “OH! You think he...No Prime, we didn’t mean what it sounded like.”

“Am I missing something, Jazz? You said we lost him in battle.”

“No, Optimus. I meant we really lost Sideswipe. We have no idea where he is.”

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They had been driving in silence for nearly an hour.

“Guys, please talk to me. Why are you both so quiet?” Sideswipe whined.

The two vehicles rolled on silently.

“Jazz, come on. What did I do? Are you mad at me?” He received no reply.

What had he done to piss the two off to the point they were using the silent treatment on him? And come to think of it, where was every body else?

The truck turned off on an approaching ramp while the Porsche kept going.

“Err…” Sideswipe, after a split second decision, followed his leader down the ramp. “Prime? Where are we going? How come Jazz left? Where’s everybody?” The red truck didn’t reply and turned again, this time into a truck pit stop.

The truck rolled slowly and came to a halt in one of the double wide parking spaces next to a blue and black semi. Sideswipe parked himself next to the large vehicle as well.

The red Lamborghini noticed that a lost of greasy, rough looking humans were scowling at him and giving him pretty dirty looks. “Prime… Why are we here?” he questioned his leader again.

Just then the cab door of the red truck opened and a huge bald man stepped out. He had large bushy eyebrows and a massive dark beard that swallowed half of his face and made Sideswipe question if the man had a mouth. It almost looked like all of the hair on his head may have been transplanted to his face.

He scratched his backside, hocked and spit a logy, and walked toward the small convenience store while digging in the back pocket of his worn jeans in search for crumpled cash.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that that truck was not Optimus Prime, and sideswipe realized his folly.

“…whoops.”

He briefly wondered how his coworkers were going to find a way to get him out of this bout of dumbness.

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This is going to be a short story, only one or two more chapters longer. It originally was going to be a one shot but I split it up.

Anyway reviews are loved, cc is appreciated and flames are used for marshmallows.