Lights: Now; let's bring in the cancer. (As a small sidenote, there are obvious changes with Cyclonus in this story. My headcanon about Cyclonus' reaction toward Tailgate's cybercrosis announcement was that he cared a lot more then he let on. And sometimes people run away from the people they care about while they suffer. Sort of like how if you see someone you love in pain, you can't even bear to look at the hurting bits. At least he stayed for the end...)

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Tailgate morosely wiped away at Ultra Magnus' body, making sure he dug within the seams where the dirt was most likely located.

With Swerve blasting music; it did not help things.

Tailgate focused on his job, making sure that the cloth wiped up a little grime with every swipe. It was mundane, but it helped take his mind off Overlord's rampage and Rewind's death.

Ratchet finally snapped, yelling at Swerve to turn his damn music off. Swerve obliged without a single wisecrack, uncommon for the bartender.

Tailgate continued to wipe, unaware that he had been cleaning the same spot over and over.

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Just when things hit rock bottom, they officially smashed through the bottom and plunged into the smelter below.

Tailgate stared in shock at the empty berth while Ratchet paced and cursed.

"How in the hell can someone just walk off with a comatose body?! And who would steal a dying mech?!"

Valid questions. Probably some stupid answers.

Tailgate walked over to Ultra Magnus' berth and touched it gently. Ratchet's rant made sense. Who would make off with a body anyhow?

The death clock blipped to life and begun whirling. Tailgate blinked as numbers appeared rapidly on its screen and stopped with a cheerful blip.

Tailgate blinked. "Uh, Ratchet? I think the death clock's broken..."

Ratchet whirled around, still spitting and obviously very salty about the disappearance of Ultra Magnus. "Break, it doesn't fragging break-!"

Ratchet paused.

Ran over to Tailgate and peered at the death clock, uncharacteristically silent.

When he turned back to Tailgate, his optics were uncharacteristically worn.

"Get up on the berth Tailgate. Let's see what we're dealing with here."

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Dead.

He was going to die.

Tailgate sat in shock in his room, Cyclonus next to him. The warrior seemed a little saddened.

"Tailgate..."

The voice trailed off.

Tailgate didn't blame Cyclonus. His EM field felt heavy enough to sink the Lost Light.

"So what should I do Cyclonus?"

Cyclonus huffed. "Resolve your problems and face death head-on."

Tailgate grinned a small bit underneath his mask. "Figured."

Cyclonus gave a rare grin smile back, this time more grim then sincere. "Indeed."

He stayed beside Tailgate, silent and unmoving.

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Sitting down at the computer console, Tailgate debated upon how to deliver the message.

Should he be evasive? Curt?

In the end, he settled for a something simple. He was too tired to beat around the bush.

Tarn,
I have Cybercrosis. It's been triggered by old age. Doctor says its terminal. I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help the Decepticons. If you can't pinpoint me, track the frequency below. Its my friend, Cyclonus'. I want you guys to decide where to bury or smelt me. I'll hide all the information on this ship inside my wrist. Hopefully you'll get it.

Tailgate.

Well, simple enough he supposed.

He buried his head in his hands and began to cry. Cyclonus walked up behind him and patted his back awkwardly.

It wasn't exactly what Tailgate wanted, but it was better than nothing.

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Swerve made a few stupid jokes as the Lost Light approached the portal. Tailgate clutched his drink and stared dully as the bright lights reflected off Swerve's visor.

He was wrong about Swerve; the bartender wasn't annoying. He just hid his inner agony a lot better than most mechs.

Just covering a bullet wound with a new layer of paint.

Tailgate suddenly grabbed Swerve's hand. The other minibot stopped suddenly and stared at Tailgate.

"It's alright Swerve. We're both stronger like this. We aren't going to hide anymore. We're going to find Ultra Magnus."

The bartender sagged behind his bar and gave a big sigh, his small frame quivering. Tailgate patted Swerve's hand as they both sat down.

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Tailgate decided that he wasn't going to give death the satisfaction of taking him peacefully. He was going to fight the frag out of Cybercrosis.

And he was going to start with Luna-1.

Cyclonus had given him a disgusted stare when he said his intentions. The old warrior promptly kneeled and grabbed Tailgate's shoulders. "Never hope. Hope is a lie."

Tailgate wasn't going to let Cyclonus discourage him. He was going to search even with the all likely event of dying. He didn't give a single frag.

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Arriving on the planet's surface was one of the most amazing experiences that Tailgate had. A supposedly "dead planet" flaring to life beneath Rodimus' pedes. (Or was it Rung's? Rodimus had seemed more likely.)

Looking at the multiple sparks beneath his feet, Tailgate wonderingly traced a spark, feeling its energy pulse against his fingers.

"I've never seen a hotspot before." Tailgate found himself saying.

"Most of them cooled by the time I came online." Chromedome replied, his voice equally as dreamy.

Tailgate skimmed the spark's surface with the tip of his finger and laughed when he heard the tiny creature beneath him almost squeal with surprise. A faint squeak emitted when his finger made contact.

Tailgate laughed and he moved on toward the other sparks, careful not to touch or squish any sparks beneath his feet.

The tranquil moment was spoiled through the sight of an odd blur of something speeding toward them.

Oddly, he noticed that it was sort of... a swarm coming toward them. It was approaching quickly from the distance.

"Uhm, Rodimus?"

"Fort Max? Blastor?! Can someone come in? What the hell..."

The swarm was distinctly metal now. "Rod-?"

"For the love of me, can someone answer?!"

They were Decepticons. That most likely didn't know that he was an Decepticon mole. Working for the DJD. With no badge.

"RODIMUS, INCOMING!"

The first shot barely grazed anyone. Thank scrap Decepticon grunts couldn't shoot to save their sparks.

He felt Rodimus grab his hood from behind and yank him toward their M.A.R.B.S, making a speedy exit. Unfortunately, their pursuers followed.

Tailgate managed to catch a full optic of their leader.

"LOCKDOWN!" The minibot spat out, as Rodimus let loose with a few curses. Ratchet was some distance away, but Tailgate fancied he could still hear the medic shouting obscenities as he shot at the Decepticons while attempting to fly.

Their speed increased, but the Decepticons shooting from behind wouldn't let up. Rodimus seemed to be significantly annoyed. He then seemed surprised.

"Would you look at that?"

A field of titans, all very large and all very dead.

Tailgate wasn't particularly religious, but he could appreciate the fact that the titans were essentially his forefathers.

And now he was inside his forefathers.

Rodimus gave a curt "Hold on!" and then he jumped from his M.A.R.B and unto a stray bar. The Decepticon pursuing him crashed into a wall and exploded. The explosion reached behind Rodimus and illuminated his jump.

That wasn't how it worked, but Tailgate didn't doubt the power of Rodimus' charisma.

Landing on the ground, he held on for dear life as Rodimus pelted out of there, remarking to Tailgate how if he had a book of moves, that particular one would be the title.

They screeched to a halt before Lockdown, who held their crewmates captive. The bounty hunter himself clapped slowly, expression serious, but his delight evident in the way his optics gleamed.

Great.

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The hand on his back was slowly starting to creep down and Tailgate was getting annoyed.

To makes matters worse, the pervert behind him's heavy breathing was getting more and more prominent.

He was about to hiss at the Decepticon behind him before he heard Rodimus begin screaming at Tyrest, some mech who was apparently important.

"-You're a disgusting, backstabbing, has-been that probably fragged Cons before the war was even over-"

Now the hand was just above his aft. The mech behind him sounded as if his vents were covered with a thermal cloth.

"-In fact, I'd rather frag myself on Lockdown's neck spikes then catch another opticfull of your fugly face-"

The servo was now firmly gripping his aft.

Cybercrosis seemed to be on his side for now. His arm felt relatively loose right now.

A great advantage to have when your fist connects with a faceplate behind you.

Unfortunately, it lead to Lockdown nearly killing Tailgate, proceeding to chase the minibot around the room with all of the captured Lost Light crew cheering, with Rodimus being the loudest of them all.

Unfortunately, Lockdown caught him by the same hood.

"Where the hell do you get off assaulting one of my mechs, you runty Autofrag?!"

Tailgate spat in Lockdown's faceplates.

"That slagging pervert squeezed my aft! And for your information; I can punch whatever and whoever I like!"

Tyrest sighed. "Escort them to the cells Lockdown."

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Tailgate sat in the prison cell, contentedly munching on an energon stick. Rung supplied them, softly cooing to Tailgate that sexual harassment was a big deal and he was alright now.

He had free food. He didn't give any frags.

Actually, no. He was dying fraggit. He needed to get out and find his cure.

Unfortunately, bars stood in his way. Touching one, he yelped as the shock traveled through his finger.

Ouch.

Great. He was dying and was probably destined to pass on and rot within this cell.

All he wanted was a little dignity, pattern and pure normal in his life. Was that too much to ask?

The minibot was Ultra Magnus, blah blah blah blah blah. He needed to get out! Get to that miracle working medic!

Oh fantastic. Star Saber was here now. Some religious tight-aft.

Peering past Star Saber, Tailgate caught an optic-full of the mech kneeling next to the bigger bot.

Huh. The mech was pretty... cute. Maybe it was that cheery and unassuming yellow and blue paintjob.

He was pretty much dead. He could eye up all the mechs he wanted anyway.

'Getaway' was tossed into the cell unceremoniously. The bars went back into place and Star Saber stalked away. He glanced back occasionally, his optics seeming to drag over to Tailgate and his compatriots more than once. That was weird...

Tailgate showed Star Saber his favourite finger before the behemoth disappeared around the corner.

Getaway stretched, then glanced over his new cellmates. His optics bulged out.

"Skids?!"

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Kaon blinked at the new message waiting for him in his inbox. Oh great. Either more pleading messages or spam.

Opening it, his bored expression changed to shock.

And eventually, deepened in sadness, that eventually masked itself, and left nothing behind.

Tarn, on the other hand, didn't react much at all.

But his EM field was heavy enough to drown a turbofox after he read the short message Tailgate sent.

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There was a long explanation about the not-assassination before something clicked.

"Sorry - Did you say you were an escapologist?"

"I might've done."

Rodimus huffed. "Tailgate, Getaway's been a prisoner for months. If he could have escaped, he would've escaped."

Getaway gave a huge smile underneath his mask, if his optics were anything to go by. "Ah, but now that I'm here with all of you, I have something I didn't have before."

He lifted an optic ridge, still grinning.

"A fresh set of keys."

Getaway first observed the cell, peering beneath the bench and even lifting Tailgate at one point to inspect beneath his pedes.

He seemed interested upon hearing of Chromedome's job and made a point to inspect the mech's fingers. Letting out a satisfied noise at the sight of the needles, he popped them out and set them aside.

Walking over to Brainstorm, he thoughtfully inspected the briefcase before popping out the spring-loaded clasps...

... extremely carefully; Tailgate noticed.

Taking both the needles and briefcase clasps, he arranged the two to stick together and made an odd, little crossbow.

He casually strode over to the guarding Legislator's blind spot and fired.

The gigantic mech did not even flinch at the initial shot. It let out a small groan like dying machinery and fell over face first.

Getaway took Rung's energon sticks and gave them each one. He instructed the others to slide the energon sticks into the bars at the count of three.

The bars blinked out, and everyone slowly strode out, nearly not believing their sudden freedom.

Tailgate was the first to run out and the second to fall flat on his faceplates.

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Lights: Wow, I'm so sorry

Lights: Uhm, nothing much more to say.

Zombie: I cried enough the first time I read it dammit, and then you do this to me. I'm sic'ing Magic on you for reals this time. AND DON'T THINK I DON'T SEE WHAT YOU NAMED THE PAGE BREAKS.

Lights: I don't feel so sorry anymore.