The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

Comments

[lastonepercent]

The mission started out too well - that should have been a sign that it was about to go to the pit.

Intelligence - this time brought in via atmospheric recon by Cosmos - showed suspicious Decepticon activity over the Northern pole of the planet. The Autobot fliers were few and far between, leaving the rest of the attack forces to travel via regular shuttlecraft. A poor way to travel, but the best way to get the numbers the needed for a proper assault.

Their surprise attack, however, turned out to be anything but.

The actual, sparked fliers were able to dodge the strafing run by the Seekers flying out of the sunlight, but the shuttle was too slow.

::We've been hit! Prepare for evasive maneuvers!:: The captain screeched, the shuttle bucking wildly as the frame groaned with the stress. Despite his flight harness, Mirage felt himself get tossed from his seat. The wall mounting hold his harness in place was gone, as was the wall behind it. Icy cold air was pouring in, filling the cabin with a roar; supplies and mechs, similiarly freed by the tear in the ship, flew wildly past Mirage's head.

::Hang on to something!:: Someone yelled, pointlessly.

There was nothing to hang on to.

[cliffjumper]

Hold on to fragging what, you slag-sucking glitch!?

... It was a good idea Cliffjumper had turned off his comms when the words started to bubble up, and the wind tore anything else away as he screamed it before he remembered to fumble for the emergency parachute.

It took far too long to get it open, fingers still in a way even the rushing resistance of air couldn't account for. The air slamming by reminding him that this time there were no breaks.

Then the parachute snapped open and at least everything slowed, but what he wouldn't have done for a jetpack or something...

With the ground still far away but far closer than before - at least he wouldn't be flattened - something ripped through the parachute.

Debris, a shot, whatever it was, Cliffjumper fell towards the ground again and slammed into it having barely curled up and hit it back first.

The snow had exploded away and the ice... creaked.

Then cracked.

"Fraggin' pit!"

[lastonepercent]

Fingers scrambling uselessly at the floor, Mirage managed to share a single, panicked glance with one of the crew members still strapped in - Bluestreak, blue optics gone wide, hand reaching out across the walkway futilely - before he was vacuumed right out of the breach.

The sudden silence from the roar of the ship's occupants and screaming alarms in favor of the rush of wind was jarring, and Mirage tumbled head over heels in freefall. Gyros spinning dizzily, he still managed to punch the parachute and was jerked upright with a gasp for his efforts.

Fall slowing, the spy reset his optics as he tried to get a decent view of the terrain before he landed. The land was a vast, blinding white expanse, grey rocky crags and the disturbing blue of deep, frigid water under ice breaking up the white horizon.

Mirage was suddenly, terrifyingly reminded of Jetfire's past 'issue' with ice, and determinedly grabbed the parachute straps to steer himself away from it if he could.

-until he noticed the dot of red on the ground nearby, that pinged back with a familiar Autobot signature.

Oh.

When Mirage finally tumbled in for a landing, sending chunks of ices skidding down the hill, he immediately set off in the other Autobot's direction, tucking away the chute tarp as he went. Already, his joints ached with the force of the cold - how did organics survive on this planet again?

[cliffjumper]

When the first reverberating crack didn't bring anything other than a fine web of cracks leading away from where he'd landed, Cliffjumper let out the vent he'd been holding and slowly stood up.

Frag it was cold!

And he slagging ached. He wasn't sure how dented his back kibble had gotten by taking the brunt of his weight when he fell the last bit, but it couldn't be pretty. He didn't, at least, have any warnings about breached armour or anything... just an escalated scale of weakened integrity.

Which wasn't good, but he'd still be able to transform...

Rubbing his aching hip joints, Cliffjumper took a careful step. The ice creaked and the cracks spidered out from his step, but nothing else happened.

Was there a temporary cave or something beneath? He was pretty sure that could happen in glaciers - he thought he might have heard Hound say something like that the last time they were around here, when Jetfire had been found.

"... Great..." grimacing at the thought of the jet and the state they'd found him in, Cliffjumper took another few careful-but-quick steps, chased by protesting ice.

Don't collapse.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage stuck to the higher parts of the landscape when he could, avoiding clear or blue ice in favor of thick white ice or the rare rocks. The few times he had to cross made him nervous; the first crack had him reflexively going invisible and skittering across the ice to the nearest rock at a instinctive run.

His engine was already working double time, trying in vain to keep him heated. The internal temperature of his extremities was already dropping, and his exposed joints were going sore and stiff as lubricants micro-crystallized between movements.

He was all too relieved to finally get within sight of Cliffjumper, after he rounded the next bend. He barely remembered to turn off his emitter before hailing the minibot with a ping.

[cliffjumper]

It was really fragging cold.

Trying to move - he wasn't really sure where, just to get off this spot of probably unstable ice for now - had friction keeping joints open, but for once he was cursing his decision to take an altmode that was sightly too large for his transformation.

His bare knee and hip joints were stiff and sort of aching, and while the friction while moving helped... it was too cold for slag like thi---

The sudden ping had Cliffjumper whirling around, gun out, sliding on the ice as it crackled under his feet before he even paid attention to the ID stamp on the origin of the ping and slowly lowered his gun.

"Uh--- Hi. You too, huh?" Slowly, he put his gun back in subspace as he stared at Mirage from the distance between them, optics dimmed already to spare on energy for heating.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage jerked to a stop at the sight of the gun, sliding on ice under the snow.

"Can you not-" he yelped, not regaining his balance until his legs were splayed out awkwardly on the ice like a newborn fawn. Shakily, he stumbled over to the nearest patch of rocky ground.

"Yes, me too - and just us, as far as I can tell."

The ship was already out of casual comm range. Technically, they were lucky the Seekers had chosen to chase the ship instead of them - but they could be stuck without rescue for some time.

"Come on. We need to find shelter. Did you see anything useful on the way down?"

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper might have laughed - or at least snickered - at the sight of Mirage's awkward pose if it wasn't for the fact that he was still high-strung with lingering fear and his own frustration at that fear, plus aching with the cold.

There was awareness that there was something funny with the situation, but actually realising what it was didn't come to him. Especially when Mirage spoke and he had to keep up with that.

"... Great... That means it's... gonna take 'em a while." Grumbling, he stomped to generate some friction-heat in his joints and then froze at the snapping crackling coming from the ice.

Right.

"I was kinda busy fraggin' fallin', Mirage! Parachute ripped," Cliffjumper said with a grumble, hunching up for a moment - whether from the mood or trying to trap heat was hard to say.

Probably both.

But he carefully scooted in Mirage's direction, relieved when the ice stopped snapping underneath his feet.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage shook his head, biting back his own urge to snipe in response.

Leave it to the Special Operations to actually remember procedure for landing in enemy territory via air.

"Come on then. I saw a few potentially defensible spots while I was in the air. We need to get out of this cold, and quickly."

He glanced around, getting his bearings, before turning toward the Southeast.

"...and grab your parachute - it may help."

[cliffjumper]

Snorting at the headshake, Cliffjumper turned his helm away and crossed his arms over his chestplates, reflexively narrowing the light intake into his optics into narrow strips.

Not that that gave much to look at. Ice, snow, rocks.

Great.

"... Hate to tell ya, but I'm pretty fraggin' sure there ain't no way of gettin' outta this cold," Cliffjumper grumbled, turning around to where Mirage was pointing and then scowled, looking around for the parachute.

... At least it'd fallen outside the area he'd landed in since he'd released it before he'd slammed down, so he didn't need to slide-scoot towards it while worrying about ice crackling underneath.

"Fine, but I don't see what it's gonna help, especially 'cause it's ripped. Where's yours in that case?" A whole parachute ought to be better than a ripped one, whatever Mirage was thinking about, right?

[lastonepercent]

"Mine is in my subspace, of course."

Mirage glanced back, impatiently waiting for Cliffjumper to catch up.

"We might be able to use them as a wind-breaker, even if one is torn. Anything to take the edge off - this cold is too much, even for us."

[cliffjumper]

"Got space for that?" Cliffjumper asked, incredulously tossing a look over his shoulder while be bunched up the parachute to the best of his ability so he could carry it.

What the frag did Mirage have in his subspace if he had space for this? Cliffjumper wouldn't be able to stuff it in there. The mention of using the parachutes as 'windbreakers' though had him pausing briefly before he tossed part of it around himself and carried the rest as he got back to Mirage.

"Maybe they'll find us while we're walking, 'cause I sure don't wanna be out here much longer." Cliffjumper knew that was improbable. They still had the issue they came here for, and presumably (hopefully) the rest, or as many as possible anyway, would be able to finish it.

Then anyone who wouldn't have been able to help with that because they were scattered would have to be picked up, spread out as they were...

No, rescue would probably not come soon, and Cliffjumper tried to ignore his working engine and fuel pump - Mirage was bigger, but he was slender and had thinner armour, so it was hard to say who of them might be losing heat faster.

And there didn't seem to be much of anyone else in their surrondings, Cliffjumper saw as he looked around again. Debris from the ship was scattered like dark blemishes across the white, but the wind was driving loose snow to already partly or completely cover most of it already.

It was so slagging cold.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage could only shrug at the suggestion.

"Perhaps."

He doubted it as well.

But Cliffjumper's idea of using the parachute as a blanket had poteiental, and he eyed it for a moment as they walked. It looked silly, but...

It was too cold to care. Mirage whipped the parachute back out of his subspace and wound it around his chilling frame.

[cliffjumper]

Using the parachute as a blanket wasn't extremely effective, at least not when still walking, but it did give some protection. It didn't make it any easier to keep apace with Mirage, though and the only reason he didn't transform was because while he vaguely knew there were ways humans drove on ice, he didn't think he could do that.

Not without something extra.

So instead Cliffjumper quickly stopped trying to walk alongside Mirage and just concentrated on keeping the mech's feet a step or two in front of him - because he wasn't going to ask Mirage to slow down.

It wasn't easy, though, and Cliffjumper caught himself having to try and catch up several times to get to the spot he'd "claimed" for himself. The longer they walked, the slower, he soon realised, he was getting.

"... there soon, or what?"

[lastonepercent]

"...Hopefully. The going is somewhat rougher and slower on the ground...thanks to the cold."

Mirage sighed unhappily, looping the heavy parachute around his frame. It didn't do much for the raw cold, but it at least blocked the stinging ice in the air, carried on the wind.

"It's on the other side of that ridge, in the rock. Looked like a cave or deep overhang. It should at least block the majority of the wind."

He didn't bother to point ahead, too fond of keeping chilling limbs closer to his frame; Mirage simply pinged Cliffjumper the coordinates and a imagine file taken from the air.

[cliffjumper]

That was way too far away in Cliffjumper's opinion, when he compared their current coordinates with the ones Mirage had given him, and he kept falling behind.

This was taking too fragging long, and Cliffjumper would rather just sit down and cover himself with this stupid parachute and not walk any further. But he also understood that it was probably better to chance getting a bit more protection, if just from the wind.

"Right," Cliffjumper muttered and that was probably a good while after Mirage had spoken, but he didn't really think about that.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage didn't think much of the slow response at first, too caught up in his own plodding and frozen misery. His own processor was feeling rather sluggish already; for long moments, he was caught up on the ridiculousness of their use of the parachutes, rather like the humans and how they clung to their blankets.

If only the parachutes were as effective.

Mirage had to half-stumble, left knee - repaired extensively in the last year, still occasionally sore - briefly locking up on him. He grunted, catching himself quickly enough, only to cast a glance back toward Cliffjumper.

...Why was he so far behind?

"...Are you alright? It's not too much further, now."

[cliffjumper]

"... What?" Stopping - even if he was already far behind - at the question, Cliffjumper huffed as he looked up at Mirage and then stomped up to him.

"I'm f-fine. Just go," Cliffjumper snapped and tried to pretend his vocaliser hadn't frozen up for a moment. Pulling the parachute further around himself, both to try and shield from the wind and, sort of, to hide himself from the inquiry. He wasn't actually fine of course, but admitting it, no matter how obvious it was wasn't something he was going to do.

Not because it was Mirage - Cliffjumper was just stubborn.

... And a little, maybe, because he wouldn't want Mirage to think less of him than he might already do.

[lastonepercent]

...This was stupid.

They were both freezing. Mirage wasn't oblivious to it. Cliffjumper was slowing down, he was stiffening up.

Mirage kneeled down, back toward the minibot. He flinched briefly at the contact of cold metal on metal- before the metal of his frame warmed slightly from the shared contact and faintly trapped heat.

Scrap. Now he just wanted to curl up and not move again. But staying in the open could mean their deactivation, at this rate.

"...Get on."

[cliffjumper]

Staring, tt took a moment before Cliffjumper realised what Mirage wanted him to do, and then he ended up staring a bit more, sputtering.

"I can f-fraggin' well walk on m-my own!" He was not doing this! His legs were working perfectly fine, and even if he was a bit slower than Mirage... "Just 'cause I'm shorter than you and take s-shorter steps---"

His vocaliser sezied up with an angry burst of static, and Cliffjumper winced, angry and frustrated. With the situation, with the cold, with his slagging frame. It was just embarrassing that Mirage had come to the conclusion that this would be the best and fastest way to get where he thought they should go.

[lastonepercent]

"Cliffjumper. We're freezing."

Mirage slapped a fist down at the snow, sending ice fragments flying, cold-weakened optics flaring bright again in his fit of temper.

"This isn't about pride, for once! You're slowing down, I'm stiffening up, and at this rate, we won't be able to move to make it to any shelter and wait for rescue."

Mirage sniffed, jerking a cold-stiff hand toward his back.

"Now get on. It will be warmer for us both this way."

[cliffjumper]

Mirage was right, and that was just as frustrating as the situation and the fact that he'd have to get a slagging piggyback ride from the noble. If he'd had more power to spare, his optics would be blush-bright.

"... Yeah." he could've said a lot of other thing, but even being angry didn't stop the heat from being damped down into a sullen mutter. He could still feel the blush that was there as he got on Mirage's back, using the wheelmount to pull himself up before he hooked his legs around Mirage's waist.

This was closer than he'd ever thought he'd be to Mirage, and that included sitting right next to the berth during that blasted ceremony and Mirage petting his helm.

It was a shock of cold metal on metal, but even just clinging there trapped small amounts of heat and friction which lightened the cold up, if just a little.

[lastonepercent]

"Thank you," he said with relief, biting back any further comments when his wheelmount was tugged on.

Mirage's plating shivered at the cold contact, and for a moment, he wondered if he would even be able to get back up again. The weight wasn't great, but his knee... But the tiny amount of warmth - and a minibot-shaped wind block - helped somewhat.

Bracing himself with a palm on the ground, Mirage slowly stood himself back up. Once he was stable, he looped his arms back under Cliffjumper's knees, for stability and more contact-warmth. The parachutes would be hopelessly tangled, but at least they helped a little.

Then he began to plod off across the ice, keeping as fast of a pace as he could manage.

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper engaged his vocaliser, opened his mouth and then closed it again; the only thing that escaped was a slight huff. There was absolutely nothing he could say to that that wouldn't be completely unreasonable, and he wasn't angry enough to spew out just anything.

So instead he hunched up and grimaced as he tried to sit still and yet keep the wheelmount out of his faceplate. This was so slagging embarrassing.

... Admittedly, though, even with his added weight Mirage wasn't slowed down noticeably. Most of it was due to the ice and wind, not carrying Cliffjumper. Which didn't make it any better, even if it was getting them where they wanted to go faster.

He was being fragging carried. By Mirage. That was both incredulously, embarrassing and making him flustered. Because of that, it was hard to stay still.

Somehow, he managed, though part of it was probably the miserable situation and the cutting wind.

[lastonepercent]

At the increased, fueled-by-willful-stubborness pace - and the hint of Primus blessed warmth seeping through their shared contact - Mirage was able to make much better time. It still took several minutes to even reach the bend in the rocks, patches of ice making the noble's feet threaten to slide out from under him.

But the sudden drop in wind strength on the lee-side of the hill was a relief.

"...H-help me look for anything that could be a cave or shelter. It should be nearby." Mirage gestured with his head, continuing on to make his way across the rocky slope.