Work Text:
Elsewhere in Praxus
"Prowl, you have to see this!"
"Protocol, Smokescreen."
"Frag protocol. This is important."
"Fine. What is it?"
"You remember that artist that went missing two vorns ago? The one that vanished out from under Commissioner Shockwave's optic?"
"And his twin the mineral trader, yes. I remember them. Why?"
"I found them!"
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Sunstreaker ran the polishing cloth carefully over his frame, making sure his plating shone in the wash rack's lights. The other fighters mocked him for his excessive attention to his appearance, but he ignored their jeers. What did it matter if they thought he was as vain as a pampered noble in a Crystal Tower?
He couldn't let it mean anything. If he lost his looks, he lost the only thing he had left of himself.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Their rise through the ranks in Crusher's pit hadn't been meteoric, but it had been quick. First they had earned an extra high grade ration at the end of each cycle, then a bonus on top of their usual fight earnings, then padding for their recharge berths--a luxury they hadn't bothered with in their past life.
Now, after their one hundredth win, Crusher was escorting them to new quarters.
"Congratulations," the pit boss said as he opened the door. "You have earned this. The best quarters on this level."
The twins stepped inside slowly, surprised by the luxury of the room. The recharge berths were on opposite sides of the room and could be hidden away behind folding screens for privacy. There was a table with chairs, but the chairs were covered in gel pads that would ease pressure and pain if they were damaged. There were storage racks and a small cupboard.
And, most luxurious of all, a window.
Sunstreaker didn't realize how much he had missed looking outside, until he was rushing toward the window to peer out. His optics roamed over the scenery, unable to settle on any one feature for long. First he looked at the section of street he could see, then his optics flitted over to a glitchmouse, then to a sparkling and his creators walking along the road. He could see the lights reflecting off the crystal gardens far in the distance and the burning of stars between the buildings in front of him.
Two vorns ago, the view would have been dull, almost boring. Now Sunstreaker wasn't sure he could look away.
"I see I chose well," Crusher remarked with a smile. "Mind the forcefield. It keeps the glitchmice and the rain out, but it won't do your systems any good."
"Sure," Sunstreaker replied distractedly.
The pit boss shook his head at the yellow mech and stepped out of the room. Once the door closed behind him, much more quietly than the door in their old room, Sideswipe moved to his brother's side.
The red twin gave the yellow a one-armed hug as he gazed outside. "We'll get back out there soon."
Sunstreaker stared at the lights and the people and, for the first time since their capture, started to hope.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Widen your stance, youngling," the trainer said gruffly. "A more accomplished melee fighter will knock you over and remove your head before you even feel the strike."
Sunstreaker frowned as Sideswipe nodded obediently and shifted his feet in imitation of the old mech.
"Like this?" The red mech asked.
"Better," Axle replied. "Sunstreaker, come over here with that longsword. Your brother needs to practice against an opponent with longer reach."
The yellow twin nodded and reached for the weapon. He knew better than to argue with Axle in the training room--the mech was old, but not feeble or fragile. He would happily run a mouthy young fighter into the ground and then move on to another training session without needed a break.
"Why are we training with swords?" Sideswipe asked as his brother stepped into the ring. "You know we do great with our hands."
"You work best with your hands because you have yet to learn any other combat styles." Axle gestured Sunstreaker closer. "And the more you know about how to fight, the more likely you are to survive any sort of combat."
"What does that matter?" Sunstreaker asked, fatalism overwhelming the lessons in good manners the old mech had drilled into him. "It's not like we fight outside the arena anyway."
"Some of the freemechs who travel from arena to arena prefer weapons combat, and the spectators love that. And," Axle looked from the yellow twin to the red, "The world changes faster than you can ever be ready for it. All you can do to prepare is learn everything you get a chance to. Even swordfighting."
Sunstreaker looked at the sword in his hand for a long moment, pondering how differently things might have been if he had known how to weild it when the gallery was assaulted. They might still be slaves or deactivated, but they might have also gotten away. Their entire lives might be different if someone at the party had known how to use a weapon.
"Yeah." The yellow twin nodded. "Teach us how to do it right, then."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Elsewhere in Praxus
"I fail to see why I require a new paintjob in order to watch a fight."
"Because you're too pretty. No one would believe someone who looks like you would be in the stands."
"Many attractive mechs attend the fights. I believe that you are a case in favor of my point."
"Thanks, but i don't look rich. I look like any other working class mech. You're... sparkly."
"Sparkly."
"Yeah. High gloss, metallic fleck paint, very well maintained. Sparkly."
"I see."
"No, I really don't think you do. But you will after we get down there. Now hold still; that red is a dead giveaway for your rank."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
There were a lot of things that Sunstreaker enjoyed about his new life, especially in comparison to how Hard Bolt had treated them, but there were almost as many that he hated. He hated that he and his brother were never allowed to leave the arena property, even with an escort. He hated that every day of his life was regulated by an uncaring crowd’s love of spectacle and violence. He hated how he would have to spend massive amounts of time repairing his good looks, just to have them ruined again the next day in another fight.
The thing he hated the most, though, was how the spectators felt entitled to the fighters after a match.
They treated any of a match’s fighters as if they were trophies or very elaborate berth toys, depending on the mech or femme. They acted like their patronage of the arena entitled them to anything they wanted from the fighters--especially the slaves--and many of them didn’t care what it took to secure their desired favors. Some of the others loved the attention, but Sunstreaker had spent enough time among the sort of mechs these fights attracted to know that it was nothing more than a way for the spectators to gain new bragging rights among their friends.
Once upon a time, he had been one of the friends those mechs bragged to. Now anytime one of them laid their hands on him, Sunstreaker wanted to rip them off and shove them down their fuel intakes. Unfortunately, he had seen what had happened to the last fighter who had tried that, and there were some punishments Crusher couldn’t get them out of.
So when the blue and yellow Praxian put his hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, the fighter shrugged him off. “Don’t touch me.”
The Praxian held his hands in the air. "Hey take it easy. I just want to talk."
The yellow mech glared. "Does that even work on anyone?"
"What?" The blue and yellow mech glanced over at a second Praxian, a serious looking black mech with gold highlights, who shook his head.
"You know what? I don't even care." Sunstreaker turned and started walking toward his quarters. At least there he could lock unwanted strangers out. "Go find someone else to warm your berth tonight."
"Wait!" The blue and yellow mech called. "I really do just want to talk!"
"Tell it to someone who cares!" The fighter continued walking, resisting the urge to sprint away. The gossip among the other fighters would be bad enough later.
"Please, just hear me out!"
Sunstreaker ducked into a service hall that would take him to the corridor his quarters were located in. As he walked away, he heard a second voice.
"Let him go, Smokescreen. It does no one any good if you only goad him into attacking you."
At least the black and gold Praxian had some sense.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Here." Sideswipe set a small box on the table in front of his brother.
Sunstreaker looked at it for a moment, confused. "What is it?"
"If I told you, then the surprise wouldn't be as good." The red mech waved a hand toward the box. "Open it."
The yellow mech gave his twin a sour look before doing as instructed. His optics widened when he saw the candies piled inside. He smiled slowly as he lifted one out.
"Sideswipe, how did you get these?"
"Well, one of the freedmechs said she was headed up top. You know Strike Out? The one with the rocket launchers in her hips?" His brother waited for Sunstreaker to nod before continuing. "She asked if we needed anything while she was out. So i had her get those, and that high gloss paint that Crusher doesn't like to pay for."
Sunstreaker's frown returned. "We didn't have the credits for that. Not if you ever really want to get out of here."
"No, we did." Sideswipe shrugged dismissively. "That noble from two fights ago, the purple and red one, he gave me a couple thousand credits and an offer to be my patron."
"A patron? Here?" The yellow twin gave him a quizzical look. "How does that work?"
"I dunno. But I turned him down. We're a package deal. What I get, you get."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Elsewhere in Praxus
"Too bad you changed back. I liked that black and gold look."
"I thought about keeping it, until the Prime's bodyguard attempted to have me arrested for tresspassing."
"Hmm. That would be a problem. Though, Steelrain always has hated you."
"Not always. Only since I became a potential political rival."
"Close enough. So anyway, what are we going to do about Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?"
"Extract them, of course. I have simply yet to decide how."
"Look, let me try to get them out without a big scene first. That seems like the better option."
"Do not do anything foolish, Smokescreen. My authority can only get you out of so many situations."
"Me do something foolish? Never happen."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Hey, Sideswipe, some mech's up topside looking for you."
Sideswipe looked at Strike Out quizzically. Mechs would ask around the arena for his brother when they hadn't been on the fight roster, but never him. "For me? You sure?"
"Very. He asked for you by name." The femme gave him a grin. "Maybe this is your ticket out of the pits."
"Maybe, but I doubt he wants both of us. The last one didn't." Sideswipe shrugged one shoulder dismissively before turning back to his sword and resuming the cleaning his friend had interrupted.
"You won't know until you talk to him. Besides, several of the other fighters saw him talking to Sunstreaker three cycles ago." Strike Out told him.
Sideswipe looked back up sharply. "What?"
"Three cycles ago," she repeated. "After he trounced that tank from Trypticon."
That put a different spin on the matter. If this mech had already been talking to his twin, then it couldn't hurt for the red mech to do the same.
Unless, of course, Sunstreaker had already turned him down.
"All right." Sideswipe wiped his sword one last time and sheathed it. Then he stood up and stowed it in his subspace. "Let's go see this mech. The worst that can happen is that I have to turn him down, right?"
"And the best that can happen is that you and Sunstreaker get out." The freedmech took his arm as he approached her, playing at being a dainty femme even though her frame was strong enough to dismantle most of the fighters in Crusher's pit. "If you do get out, you'll be sure to remember your friends in the underground, right?"
"Of course I will." He nudged her playfully with his hip. "Not like I could forget a femme like you, anyway."
"Flatterer. You only like me because I can take you in a fair fight."
They laughed at their silly flirtation and made their way into the halls that wound through the fighter's quarters. It wasn't a long trip from the twins' quarters to the topside seats and Strike Out kept up enough banter to keep Sideswipe from growing nervous over his meeting. She kept him relaxed enough that Sideswipe barely noticed the roar of the crowd when they stepped into the well-lit ground section.
"He's over there." The femme loosened her grip on Sideswipe's arm and pulled away, moving toward a blue and yellow Praxian who's attention was anywhere but the current fight.
Sideswipe approached cautiously as Strike Out moved to the Praxian's side. This mech didn't look especially dangerous, but the pit fighter knew very well how decieving that could be. The blue and yellow mech looked too... proper and well maintained to be any kind of warrior model though, and if his paint was anything to go by then he wasn't here to buy their service contracts unless he was doing it on behalf of someone much wealthier.
The Praxian turned to look at him as Strike Out spoke, and a smile spread across his faceplates. "It really is you."
"Do I know you?" Sideswipe asked. He didn't recognize the mech, but that didn't mean he hadn't been a one time customer in his old life.
The Praxian shook his head. "No, but everyone in my line of work knows you and your brother."
"Okay, that's creepy." The red twin frowned. "Who are you and what do you want?"
"My name is Smokescreen," the blue and yellow mech replied. "And I want to get you out of here."
Sideswipe laughed bitterly. "You'll have to talk to Crusher about that. We are slaves, in case you didn't pay attention to the fighter profiles."
"Slavery is illegal in Praxus."
"So is kidnapping mechs at parties and selling them to the highest bidder. But here we are."
Smokescreen frowned deeply. "I will get you out of here."
"Take it up with Crusher. We're done here." Sideswipe turned away and stomped back into the hallway. He could hear the distinctive sound of Strike Out's steps behind him, but the Praxian was smart enough not to follow.
Smokescreen was a fool if he believed that Praxis' anti-slavery laws would save them. If they were going to, he and Sunstreaker would have been free the moment Crusher opened their shipping crates.
"I'm sorry," Strike Out said, once they were beyond the range of Smokescreen's hearing. "I didn't know."
"I know. We don't talk about it for a reason."
When the femme took his hand and squeezed it, Sideswipe let himself take the comfort she intended from it.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Elsewhere in Praxis
"You should have known that Sideswipe would prove as difficult to talk to as his brother. They are in a situation where they can no longer trust any mech."
"They could have just walked out with me! Crusher can't keep them there; slavery is illegal in Praxis!"
"Actually, the law is somewhat fuzzy on these precise circumstances. Crusher is a citizen of Polihex, not Praxis."
"So, what? He's just going to get off with nothing?"
"I did not say that. I said that due to the laws of his home city-state, he has legal claim to the slaves in his possession which is in conflict with the laws of Praxis."
"So what are we going to do then? We can't leave them there, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe can't be the only slaves in his pit."
"As a businessmech in Praxis, Crusher is bound by our laws as much as by those of Polihex. We will simply treat him the way we would treat any business owner that was engaging in illegal operations."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Sunstreaker didn't like standing in the guard posts. They gave him too much time to think as he scanned the arena gates for intruders. There were enough mechs who tried to break in, either looking for shelter or attempting to steal fuel or money, that the position was necessassary but it wasn't enjoyable.
It left him too much processing space to remember how good life had been before the party in Polyhex. It didn't help that things were so much better here than in Hard Bolt's pit or that he knew he was too changed to be the prissy artist he had been before. He wanted life to be good again, with all the petulance of a newspark.
He was so caught up in memories of his past and wishing he had never lost it that he almost missed the mechs gathering at the gate. There were four of them gathered at the main entrance before he noticed them.
All of them were wearing the rank markers of the Praxis Enforcers.
Sunstreaker reached for the intercom in his tower. "Security, we have a situation."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Sideswipe was familarizing himself with the feel of a new energon axe when he felt the first stirrings of unease. He frowned and lowered the axe, holding a hand out to Axle to stop him from beginning their training session.
"Something's wrong," the red mech said.
Axle lowered his own weapon. "What do you mean, youngling?"
"Something's not right." Sideswipe's frown deepened as he tried to pinpoint the cause of his sudden distress. His spark sank as he realized it was centered on his brother. "Something's wrong with Sunstreaker."
The old mech frowned as well. "Best go find out what's going on then. If Sunstreaker's found deep enough trouble that it's bothering you, then he probably needs backup."
"Yeah." The red twin made his way toward the weapon rack. He was setting the axe back on its storage hooks when shouting broke out above them.
"What is going on up there?" Axle asked. His question was puncuated by the sound of energy weapons discharging. "Best take the axe, youngling. Sounds like you'll need it."
Sideswipe nodded and picked the weapon back up. Then he charged toward the stairs.
Nothing was happening to Sunstreaker if he could help it.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The pit fighters who served as security had gathered at the main gate as the enforcers forced their way in. They simply stood in place, not raising a hand against the officers but not allowing them further entrance to the pit. Sunstreaker didn't know what they wanted, but he and the others were not going to let them into their home without reason.
The enforcers were heavily armed, and Sunstreaker had to give them some credit for knowing that they were walking into a room full of very dangerous mechs.
The enforcers were led by the commissioner himself, a mech named Ore who was so silver he had to be plated in the metal rather than painted. He was flanked by his deputies, a black and white mech and a grey and gold femme who Sunstreaker recognized by their elegant red chevrons and not by name. The deputy commissioners whe had known vorns ago had clearly been replaced with mechs who were younger and more attractive.
Further back in the group, he caught sight of the blue and yellow mech who had been harassing him and his brother. An enforcer? Really?
"This facility is now under the control of the Praxian Enforcers," Ore announced, arrogance marring of any legitimacy his statement might have had. "If you turn over Crusher, your cooperation will be looked at favorably and the free mechs among you will be given leniency in sentencing."
Sunstreaker's jaw dropped open at the commissioner's statement. Other mechs, some in each group, muttered angrily. One freedmech, a one-opticed former miner named Burrow, stepped forward and stared down at Ore.
"You can have Crusher and the free mechs over my grey body."
"Very well." The commissioner raised the cannon mounted on his shoulder and shot Burrow in the face.
There was a long moment of silence before the miner's headless body clattered to the ground. Then, with angry screams, the pit fighters rushed forward into the enforcers.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"What the frag!? This wasn't the plan!"
"Do you think I don't know that?! Get outside and lead the reinforcement team around to the side entrance. If we can trap the fighters between us, perhaps we can end this without more loss of life!"
"Yes, sir! Don't die while I'm gone!"
"I have no intention of doing so. Get moving!"
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Crusher met up with him as Sideswipe sprinted down the walkway toward the main gate. "What's going on?"
"I don't know." The red mech gripped his axe more tightly as more weapons fired. "But whatever it, I think Sunstreaker's in the middle of it."
"Sunstreaker," the pit boss replied, "Sounded the alarm. I'd be shocked if he wasn't in the middle of it."
"Figures. So what do we do? It sounds rough in there."
"I think we will have to figure it out as we go." Crusher frowned. "And tomorrow we install security cameras and monitors. We are not getting caught off guard again."
The enforcers chose that moment to pour into the walkway from the side entrance.
Crusher shouted in anger and braced himself for a fight with the oncoming officers. Sideswipe lifted his axe and did the same.
Neither of them anticipated the EMP blast that caught them in the chest plates.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Sunstreaker always knew when Sideswipe was in trouble. That ability had kept them from getting caught when Sideswipe was up to mischief as a sparkling. It had kept one or the other of them alive through some rough times. It had keep them together after the party and into the slavers' holding cells.
It let him know that the enforcers they were tangling with now were not their only problem.
He turned away from his opponent, a young enforcer who had been precision shooting into the crowd before Sunstreaker engaged him, and tried to make his way toward the walkway. The enforcer reached out and grabbed his arm, tugging him backward.
Sunstreaker snarled in rage and spun around to face the young mech again. His free hand shot forward and punched the enforcer in the face, denting cheekplates and shattering optic glass. The other mech cried out in pain and released Sunstreaker's wrist. The yellow twin punched him again for good measure, rattling his processor enough to initiate emergency shut down protocols.
Sunstreaker turned away again, intent on getting to his brother. There was a sea of fighting mechs between him and Sideswipe, but that wouldn't stop him.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Prowl, the back up team has secured Sideswipe and Crusher. How are things on your end?"
"Messy. Ore is in several pieces and Spotter is pinned down somewhere behind me. Most of our forces have severe damage and there is at least one additional fatality."
"Slag. We're on our way. Leave me the heroics this time, all right?"
"No promises. And bring the prisoners. They might be the display needed to calm the riot."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The lines between friend and foe were becoming more blurred by the klik. As more enforcers fell, some of the enraged pit fighters turned their fury on each other. Mechs who had been allies moments before vented their anger on each other, berserk and blind to the fact that they were on the same side.
Sunstreaker disabled one of the younger fighters and laid him as carefully on the ground as he could. He hadn't wanted to fight him, but the young mech had deliberately stepped between him and Sideswipe. The yellow mech might have forgiven the act any other time, but nothing was coming between him and his brother today.
He moved on, past the young mech and toward a knot of fighters that included Sideswipe's friend Strike Out. He wanted to stop and help her, but he knew he couldn't afford the slow down. His twin needed him, right now. He knew Sideswipe would be angry if he did nothing at all, though, so he reached out and grabbed an enforcer by the dorwing and yanked.
The enforcer went down with an agonized scream, but Sunstreaker didn't stay to survey his handiwork. He kept moving toward the walkway and Sideswipe.
He sliced through the fight as quickly as he could, doing his best not be noticed. Sunstreaker made it far enough that the crowd was noticeably thinner and he could see the floor of the walkway. He thought he would break through successfully and make his way to his brother's rescue.
Then the second group of enforcers burst into the entryway.
The yellow mech's optics widened as the two enforcers at the head of the new team lowered two cannons toward the riot. He dived toward the floor as the cannons charged up and winced as they discharged through the air with a crackle of static.
The entryway fell silent, except for the clatter of unconscious bodies falling to the ground.
Sunstreaker didn't dare to move, afraid that the enforcers were simply waiting for an excuse to fire the EMP cannons again. He was no good to Sideswipe if he was offline.
After several long, tense kliks, a series of measured footfalls rang across the entryway. The yellow twin risked a glance up when they passed him and saw the black and white deputy commissioner striding toward the second team of enforcers. The black and white was all confidence and dignity, despite the dents in his plating and the gouges in his paint.
He turned to the remaining crowd with a frown, even as he gestured to someone in the second team to come forward. "Now that I have everyone's attention, I believe that it is time to resolve this matter like civilized mechs."
"Why should we?" Strike Out asked, limping forward so that everyone could see her. "Your leader murdered Burrow."
"And justice has been served." Sunstreaker stood carefully as the deputy commissioner gestured to several silver parts littering the floor. "Had I been given the chance, I would have arrested Commissioner Ore myself but the fighters of this pit took matters out of my hands."
"That doesn't explain why we should listen to you." The femme's tone was dark.
"Because I am Prowl, deputy commissioner for the city-state of Praxis and currently in control of this illegally operating business."
Angry shouts greeted Prowl's words, but none of the fighters moved. The EMP cannons remained trained on the crowd, just in case.
When he was sure that none of the fighters were going to re-ignite the riot, the deputy commissioner moved to one side, revealing Crusher's offline form. "As you can see, your demonstration of loyalty to Crusher is admirable but ultimately meaningless. He has been placed under arrest, as will any other members of arena staff who have aided in the trafficking of sapient mechanisms into or out of this facility."
The other fighters reacted with renewed rage at Prowl's words, but Sunstreaker's attention was drawn elsewhere. Just behind Cursher, he could see the bright red paint that was his twin's favorite color. He charged forward without conscious thought, intent on saving his brother. "Sideswipe!"
He was stopped when he barrelled into the surprisingly solid form of the deputy commissioner. "Stop. Your brother is unharmed and will be released after recieving medical evaluation."
"Unharmed my skidplate!" Now that he was closer, the yellow twin could see the way Sideswipe's optics flickered and his head lolled, as if he couldn't quite reboot. "You shot him!"
"Sideswipe and Crusher were subdued as expediently as possible, given the circumstances in the entryway." Prowl placed a hand in the center of the yellow mech's chest plate and shoved him back a step. "Your brother is unharmed."
"You shot him! He wasn't even here, and you shot him!" Sunstreaker felt all the rage and fear he had been keep in in check break loose. He didn't care about Prowl's rationalizations or the fact that Sideswipe would have probably resisted arrest. The yellow mech only cared about making the black and white hurt as much as his brother would be once the EMP wore off.
Sunstreaker clenched his right hand and swung his fist toward the deputy commissioner's face.
Prowl caught it an iron grip without even blinking. "I suggest that you stand down."
The yellow mech responded by turning slightly and kicking Prowl's knee joint.
The Praxian's stance faltered as his knee buckled, but he didn't loosen his grip on Sunstreaker's hand. "I said stand down."
"Not until you let my brother go." He tried to kick the weakened joint again, but Prowl moved much more quickly than Sunstreaker thought possible.
The black and white mech released the yellow mech's fist and danced out of harm's way. "As you wish."
Prowl settled easily into a fighting stance that Sunstreaker wasn't familiar with. He studied the other mech for a moment, then turned away. He wasn't going to fight the enforcer if Prowl wasn't making himself an obstacle. The yellow mech refocused his attention on the enforcers holding his brother hostage.
He reached out and grabbed the blue and yellow Praxian from his position in the front of the second squad. The young enforcer hissed in pain as his plating dented and then went limp in his grasp, clearly trying to avoid provoking the pit fighter any further. "Let my--"
Sunstreaker didn't have time to finish his demand. A strong hand came down on his shoulder, striking with a precision chop and disrupting sensors and motor function. The arm was still there, but it refused to obey his commands. The pit fighter dropped the young enforcer and turned back to the deputy commissioner with a snarl.
He wouldn't make the mistake of ignoring this mech again.
Prowl retreated to a safer distance again, far enough away that Sunstreaker couldn't grab him but close enough that the fighter couldn't build up momentum for a charge either. The twin hesitated for a moment and then rushed the black and white, responsive hand clenched into a fist and ready to rain as many punches down on Prowl as possible. The Praxian couldn't dodge everything, no matter how good he was.
Prowl met him head on, feet braced against his momentum and wings tucked back out of immediate danger. He met each punch with a block and each of Sunstreaker's frustrated snarls with a smirk. When the yellow twin grew desperate and tried to headbutt him, the deputy commissioner dodged out of the way and struck his other shoulder with another precision chop that disrupted the motor function in his good arm.
Then Prowl darted behind him. Sunstreaker turned, trying to track his movements but the deputy commissioner was just enough fast enough that he couldn't see the blow before it landed. The black and white mech jabbed him in the lower back and the yellow twin screamed in rage as the motor control to his legs was cut. He fell to the ground in a heap, twisted around by his previous momentum and staring into Prowl's face.
"Stand down, Sunstreaker," the black and white mech repeated, standing over him. Then he turned and limped away, issuing orders to the remaining enforcers even as he favored his damaged knee.
The pit fighter couldn't even manage to enjoy the sight, as the enormity of his failure sank into his processor.
Sunstreaker lay on the floor for long groons, until two enforcers picked him up and carried him to a medical transport. They put him on a gurney next to his brother, who gave him a woozy smile.
"He kicked your aft! That was awesome!"
The yellow mech turned his face away, unwilling to let his brother see his anger and shame.