So well, now… here it is, my new fanfic.

It's G1, It's Tracks, and it's SLASH!! Oh yeah, a slash fanfic. I haven't read any slash fan fictions featuring Tracks and ::insert any male Transformers' character name here:: so I'm proud to say I'm uploading one here at !

OK, I do NOT really know why am I doing this, truly… It pup up my head on day and since then it's just been rounding on my mind for quite sometime, I've got to do it… no the less… It is actually your average stereotypical slash story… I've used one of the most common and exploited formulas of fanfics… but hey! It's G1… and it was just something I had to do… not that I really had the intention of a serious attempt... I'm not gonna write a novel after all

Tracks: C'mon little girl, if you're gonna humiliate me. Do it now and fast. Please.
Seeker Nami: Don't worry my blue friend. You're going to have much fun here indeed.
Tracks: I don't really want to know what you are up to… what is "fun" for you anyways, huh? Am I getting blasted or something that disastrous? Because I don't want my paintjob messed!
Seeker Nami: Aww cry me a river, will ya? You'll be grateful to me after this.
Tracks: I'm not sure.
Seeker Nami: Shut up. Now ON THE FIC!!

Read and review please and ENJOY!

Disclaimer: You know the legal stuff… it never changes... I own a horde of rabbits, my PC and nothing else.

HUMAN
By: Seeker Nami

CHAPTER 1: DISGRACE

A month without Decepticons is never something good. And more than one month with no Decepticons busy plotting to steal software and hardware in Japan without even bothering to fight back the Autobots is actually distressing. They hadn't tried to steal Energon lately; they hadn't tried to crush Autobot scum; no, they just kept taking away tachnoilogy as if a dark force possessed them.

Which only raised Optimus Prime's suspicions to galactic proportions one day Teletran-1 provided him of the Decepticons' campground in one of the many Mexico's tropical rain forests.

—Autobots,—Prime announced.—we've got the Decepticon campsite's location. We must sent a reckon unit to explore the area and notify us what is Megatron up to this time.—

The rest of the Autobots nodded in utter silence; a reckon patrol meant one thing: Mirage and, certainly no one wanted to work with him thanks to the distrust his presence generated among his comrades. Truth is that Mirage was splendid as a spy, fearless as a warrior; but fear of being attacked by one of your own teammates by behind was just a pressure so big to overcome during a battle, let alone a mission where you were supposed to go by yourself with that "psycho" –As Jazz and Blaster once dared to say.- Megatron and a horde of Decepticons is quite enough to suffer. So, why look for problems somewhere else, specially your own army?

Optimus, seeing he was not going to get a response from his men, cleared his throat and he spoke again, in his Oh-I'm-just-your-master-sorry-bout-that tone of voice:

—Mirage, you'll be in charge of this mission.—Then he scanned the place, looking at every single Transformer there, most of them turned their head to a side, shook their head in a no-fashion or simply looked disgusted, that is, until his optics met Tracks; the blue Corvette laid lazily over a wall watching his reflection in one of the many monitors of Teletran-1, completely oblivious to the world around him but himself. Optimus waited for some more astroseconds and, he hit a panel with his clenched fist, the loud sound of metal against metal made anyone cringe, thus causing Tracks to flinch, coming back to reality in record time.—Mirage is in charge of this mission, and you Tracks are going with him.—

Tracks eyed his leader in awe, not knowing what to do or say:--M-me? Prime… I think you've got a short-circuit. I can't... M-Mirage and… H-Hound are better spies…--

Optimus glanced at his soldier from the corner of his optics as his coolant systems made a sound akin to a sigh of frustration.—I am not asking you to do it. I am commanding you. Now do as I say. And don't question my orders again.—

—As you command, sir.—

Tracks turned his head to face his teammate. He had to admit he didn't hear much about what his leader was talking about, he only came up with a Mexican jungle thing. Well, something else he had to admit; he liked planet Earth, of course, whatever made him think of Cybertron, but he heated deeply run around the jungles just as this mission seemed to require; that won't bring nothing good, no of course not, won't bring nothing but dust and dirt. Then there was that Mirage thing too: they knew each other long before the war started, they used to be part of the elite linage, though they had never held a real conversation after all. Tracks had confidence in the Autobot cause –although he never showed it up- and he fought for it, but Mirage seemed likely to stay just be mere compromise, not for faith. And the spread gossip about his way of life and his constant "betrayals" to the Autobots didn't really help to lift his spirits. Jungle and Mirage…Yeah sure. It jingled as beautifully as the Death March.

—Alright Mirage, let's get going. However I'm still thinking Hound would have been the best choice for this mission…—

Mirage only turned his back to him and transformed, rolling out the base in vehicle mode.

Positively, this promised to be a long day.

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Both Autobots reached their primary objective; Selva Lacandona(a/n). Now it was when the real mission started, they had to begin their search for the Decepticons' short-term hidden base.

—What a nice place to hide. Ain't it?—Tracks commented in an attempt to break the ice in spite of how disgusted he felt for riding over roots and rocks.

—I'd rather choose Cybertron's catacombs.—Was the frozen answer.

—I know, it was sarcasm, Mirage. To be honest, I feel a lot more comfortable in the humans' large metropolis. When you get to know them, they're not that bad.—

—If you say so… now pay attention to our mission. Will ya?—

Silence sifted once again and they resumed their way without saying a single word, each other engrossed in deep thought when the monotone hum of the radars confirmed they had recognized Decepticon signatures in a very short ratio according to their current position. Short after they went into an area where the Decepticons' path was clear, judging for the trails of burned foliage and countless death animals they left behind.

—It seems they have been busy making this place their home.—

—Shut up Tracks. The Decepticon base is two kilometers in south northern direction; we shall not lose track.—

They arrived to a plateau, to the location of the Decepticon campground; Mirage placed a hand in front of the blue sports car in a restrictive gesture, pointing him to adopt a lurk position hiding behind the trees.

—What are those Decepti-creeps doing here?—

—We're going to find out.—Replied Mirage, setting his audio receiver systems in a short wave reception.

Afar from them, Megatron and his Constructicons were finishing the last details of their leader's most recent invention. Soundwave kept his lookout position in the whole zone perimeter while Starscream lingers near Megatron, stepping from side to side of him:

—Megatron, I dare to say you have a few screw loose! What's this all about? You haven't told us a single world for weeks! We're in the dark here. And you even made us come here!—

—What benefit I earn from you knowing it, buffoon?—Megatron aimed his fusion cannon to Starscream's face.—Only one I need to know here is Scrapper.—

—Yeah sure. Him and his Constructicons have been helping you.—

—Of course. Now, be of some good use and bring a pair of Energon cubes here.—Starscream walked in the direction of an ordered pile of shining pink cubes; he lifts two of them in his arms still complaining and cursing under his breath, mumbling something about a waste of energy.

Laserbeak and Ravage sighted a very familiar energy signature –and not to mention a disgusting essence- during their patrol. Ravage looked up the skies looking for his comrade who nodded to him agreeing as he flew back to his master, he transformed and started to play his reckon report inside Soundwave's chest.

—Megatron. Laserbeak and Ravage have spotted the energy signature of two Autobot spies in the perimeter,—Soundwave announced.—North-west direction, half a kilometer away from our current position.—

Megatron nodded and turned to the five lazy Seekers.—You bunch of worthless scrap! Go and dispatch those two Autobots immediately!—All of them obeyed, however Starscream was abruptly stopped.—You stay. Otherwise you'll screw it up.—The Decepticon leader gave an ignominious smile, this promised to be a good day for him.

—Slag! They've locate us!—

Thrust, Dirge and Ramjet begun shooting in the direction Soundwave told them in an attempt to make the Autobots step out from their hideout. Beneath Ravage was doing his job attacking them from behind, resulting in a more effective tactic than the Seeker's senseless shooting. When both cars were in the jets' range of vision an unfair persecution happened. The two Autobots, however, did their best efforts to defend themselves using their vehicle modes' available weapons.

—The time of your destruction has arrived, miserable Autobots!—Skywarp roared, appearing from nowhere in the middle of the sky.

—I've been listening that same quote for thousands of years…—

—Now… Who's feeling like a Turbo-Fox, huh?—Tracks told his teammate as they tried to escape their pursuers. The F-1 omitted the other racecar's last comment diverting other way and used his ability to disappear, then hiding in the jungle, leaving the blue mech to his own luck.

I'm so sorry, but in moments like this is every mech for himself.

Hey, no!

Good luck! One of us shall inform the others. If they capture us both this mission won't have been of any use. Mirage out.

The F-1 spy closed his com-link completely, leaving an isolated Tracks. Thank you…

Thundercracker nose-dived, shooting aimlessly straight Tracks, the terrain made ducking attacks difficult, and the roots that raised from the ground in some points were damaging the racecar's wheels, without mentioning his suspension. Suddenly a Cluster Bomb hit him in the front of his vehicle mode, exploding. This made him lose control; the remains of his front wheels stirred painfully, Fortunately for the Corvette, his auxiliary systems made his rear wings to stretch lifting him in the air before he crashed in a big tree. Tracks even had to suffer some more thumps in nearby tree branches. And I used polishing wax this morning… Good-bye to my good looks. He thought in frustration.

Hiding in the woods, Mirage watched helpless how the Seekers were using his comrade for target practice. I'm so sorry Tracks, it's your hide or mine. Praying in silence for Soundwave not to be any close, Mirage re-opened his com-link, connecting to Teletran-1, a small screen mounted in his arm turned on.

Prime. This is Mirage. Over

—I hear you. What's your current situation?—

Bad. The Decepticons found us.

—Where is Tracks?—Jazz interrupted expectant.

The Seekers got him sited

—Told ya somethin' like this was gonna happen Pra'hme.—Ironhide said.

—And I thought we could trust him.—

—Stop it Ironhide, Cliffjumper.—Prime looks back to Teletran-1's screen.—We're in our way. Prime out.—

The small screen in Mirage's arm showed nothing but static. He sat down resigned to wait for enforcers to arrive, the white spy gave a short glance to his teammate in disgrace; deep within himself he asked his internal voice how much time he will take the cruel harass before passing out.

—Megatron, please! Let me blow him to pieces!—Starscream begged, sank in total boredom.

—No.—A sly smile curved Megatron's lips.—It's the best guinea pig I've got to test my weapon, it's a shame he isn't Optimus Prime.—The Decepticon leader lifts his new weapon over his shoulder, pointing carefully to the elusive Autobot. Better not to miss in the first shot, the weapon recharged quite slowly and it consumed a considerable amount of Energon. Ever so slowly, he started to push the trigger, until a blue ball of energy shoot from the cannon's mouth heading straight Tracks, who flew almost at ground level trying to dodge Thurst and Dirge's attacks when he noticed a blue blast coming closer at a high speed; he unsuccessfully tried to duck it.

The laser struck him, but contrary to what he expected and in spite of being surrounded by a faint light his body remained unusually intact, that of course until his systems fell pray of an vague drowsiness, as if all his Energon supplies have been depleted and crash-landed.

The Seekers that had been pursuing him moved away when the brilliant flash of the blast blinded them, but when they took up their positions again in their assault, something took them by surprise.

—Where'd that Autobot go?—

—Must have fell over here.—

—Even in this smoke cloud we should have sighted him with our radars! He's nowhere around!—

—Let's look for him then. Divide!—

Megatron laughed out loud, pleased with his weapon's effect, though he couldn't tell for sure if its effect was the one he desired. The fact seemed to have less importance in itself. Starscream, Soundwave and his cassettes were all confused; their sensitive radars had lost trail of the Autobot's energy signature.

—M-Mighty Megatron… W-what did you…do?—Starscream ventured to ask with a low quiver in his voice.

Mirage as the Decepticons before him, noticed the sudden vanish of Tracks' energy; worried, he begins to scan the area, activating every sensitive servo in his body and radars. He tried to communicate via his com-link, receiving static as the only answer in the open channel. It was as if Earth sucked Tracks down. Short after, Mirage's radars perceived an Autobot energy signature, but instead of his lost comrade, he found himself facing Optimus and his retinue.

—Mirage, where's Tracks?—Was Jazz's greeting.

—I… don't know. Megatron shoot him with that odd bazooka of his and disappeared.—

—Insolent! I'll make you pay for this. Once I'm over with you, you will wish to never have step out of the assembly line!—Brawn argued smashing his fists together ready to fight the spy when Optimus stopped them.

—It's enough, Brawn. Let's concentrate on the target at hand. Autobots attack!—

—Looks like we've got company.—Thundercracker said up in the sky, beginning the attack.

—Do something, Great Leader! Why don't you only shoot 'em down with that new toy, huh? For Primus' sake just do it!—Yells Starscream attempting to steal the bazooka from Megatron's hands whom pushed him back with a rough kick.

—Be quiet, buffoon. I don't have any rush to do it. Besides, we need much more Energon for this babe.—

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Pain. All he could feel was pain.

He was lying down on the ground, injured. His whole body ached, from his head to his feet. Feeling unsettled and lost he tried to stand up to take a look around him, only to find himself immensely weak. His self-preservation instinct told him it was best to look for shelter, if only there was a place he could hide into. His mind didn't seem to connect anything; he didn't know where he was or what he had been doing. There was only pain, pain and fear. It was all he could do to crawl as best as he can to the virtual safety of the mass number of plants and trees, praying to whatever High Lord there is not to get killed by one of the many blasts that rained all over the place. He curled into a ball, knowing by the increasing drowsiness that his body was giving it up, he felt weaker as pain faded away and his mind drifts into an engulfing darkness, passing out.

Amid the thick lawn his conscience faded, he no longer sees or listens anything. Just lay as a death animal's corpse.

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—Decepticons, retreat!—

—Megatron... what are you talking about?—

—You hear me, Soundwave. Retreat.—

Megatron and his men flew off vanishing in the horizon. Nevertheless the Autobot warrior weren't cheering their victory unlike other times for they had no reason to.

—We shall look for Tracks.—Optimus Prime stated after a short pause.

—This should not have happened.—

—Yeah. If you haven't sent Tracks to this mission!—

—You slagged traitor.—Cliffjumper roared apoplectic.—And you dare to call yourself an Autobot!—

Prowl grabbed the mini-bot with his strong arms, lifting him from the ground slightly.—Stop already. Our comrade is lot and us fighting about it won't be of any help to him.—

Meanwhile; Bumblebee, Spike and Carly began to do something much more productive than useless brawling, searching in their own. Bumblebee, whose radars were less sensitive than those of Mirage couldn't sense or find too much. In fact he was having a hard time trying to locate his teammate. He had to thrust his eyes, not sensing any energy signature nor seeing a single streak of blue metal around the place Tracks was supposed to have crashed made him worry.

—Tracks, where in the smelting pit are you?!—

Spike and Carly were now looking in separate paths calling the blue Corvette by his name getting no faint response to lift their hopes.
The temerarious blonde goes into the copious jungle woods, trying to find a better track to told her about the present fate of her robotic friend. In the distance, far from where she came from she noted an odd path in the soil foliage, the way it had been flatten didn't suggest a mechanical foot's saunter it looked like as if someone or something had crawled among the grass and plants; pushed by her curiosity she headed to that place when she tumbles with the very last image she could have imagined in a jungle, screaming in terror, something that was rarely seen, since this girl was quite fearless.

Silence gained terrain once more between the Autobots and they all ran fast to where the human girl was. Fearing the worst.

—Carly! Carly are you ok?—Spike inquires walking close to her, Carl's hands covered her face as she turned her back to her friend.—Hey, calm down. What's wrong?—

—It's... it is---A burst of tears cut her off in the middle a sentence.

—Optimus, you better take a look at this!—Ratchet is kneeling down beside the humans. Optimus made his way up to him from behind, taking a look from above the medic's shoulder to where he is pointing in the soil.

A young human boy lay amid the high grass. His slender body naked; he is a brunette, whose delicate facial features are that of an Hispanic man, long black, straight hair covered part of his face. Ratchet carefully lifts the languid human in both hands, examining him; his body wore several wounds and scratches all over its surface, a thin trace of warm blood pours through his partially open slim lips.

—He's still alive. But what can a human be doing here?—

—And in those conditions… I thought there were no villages near.—Spike observed.

—Perhaps a native of the area.—

—Negative, Prime. He doesn't present the immediate characteristics of the inhabitants of the zone. However he seems to be severely injured. I can't determine with precision if he has internal injuries, at least not here I can't tell if his life is hanging of a perch.—

—And what's the big deal with an agonizing human? We must find our comrade!—Growled Sunstreaker, he wasn't really interested in finding Tracks at all, in fact, he complained all the way on how pointless and stupid this was, but the sight of a fleshling bleeding disgusted him more than anything he had seen. He hardly fought the urge to shove the human away. It's just too much to bear for just one cycle. My systems are not made for these horrible terrains, and now Optimus' thinking on bringing that corpse back to base… what's with the old man today anyways?

—Tracks will have to wait. We shall take the human back to the Ark and help him.—Optimus Prime announced.

Ratchet then transforms to his vehicle mode and with the help of Sideswipe he placed the young boy in a stretcher in the back of the white Ichi-van.

—I'll go with them.—Carly stated, jumping inside the ambulance.—I have little knowledge of infirmary but maybe I can help.—Spike gave her a jealous glance. Truth was he liked to flirt other girls and had no rights to tell Carly anything, but the fact of having a hell-awful-way-too-attractive naked man and Carly alone wasn't so pleasant. Bumblebee patted Spike in the shoulder and they both walked away.

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In their way back home, Carly started to clean up the strange boy's open wounds and stopped her task to look at him closely. His suntan-like brown skin was pretty bad injured; his body was slender, yet it had a very good building. Carly's eyes, however, hung on his face, staring at him with insistence: delicate features, a slightly triangle-shaped face; long, straight black hair a kind of Hispanic she had never seen in her life, at least not this closer except that something in him looked vaguely, well no, tremendously familiar, his face reminded her of somebody. But who?

—Why do I feel like I've met him before? I've never met a Mexican before. Then… why do I have this feeling?—

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Outside, the Autobots followed Prime in a "V" formation; Ironhide speeds up, skidding beside Optimus.—Prahme. What we gonna do with Tracks? The blue brat gets me worried.—

—I'm very worried too. But endangering human lives in our combats is not fair. I think the right thing is to help him first.—

—Yah, I know… "We fight our war in their home" but…—

—Ironhide. Tracks can take care of himself.—Optimus cut him off in a I'll-tear-you-apart-of-you-insist fashion, his voice harsh, he had no intention of discussing this matter. He perfectly knew that finding Tracks was no easy task, virtually impossible, his own radars couldn't detect his signature, and he was affraid. But he wasn't going to tell anybody, not even Ironhide, his best friend and counselor, the overwhelming conclusion he reached. It hurt, but everything pointed out he had lost a soldier.

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So this was Chapter 1. I feel kinda weird… but my soul's starting to let me live life in peace… OK, maybe not until I get to the "good" parts…

A/N: The Lacandona Jungle is just one of the most beautiful rainforest in Mexico, with a large list of different animal species. It is located on Tabasco and there are a lot of pretty Mayan buildings there. :3

Of Bunnies and Mayhem's next chapter will be up this Monday (I hope…) school gave me a real headache this last two weeks… If things are going to be like this I'm going to forget was my name… by the way… do you know what's that funny thing on my face? Oh it's my nose…