Trust and Freedom, a Transformers Bayverse fic
Title: Trust and Freedom (part two of... probably a bunch)
Universe: Bayverse
Rating: PG as of right now, but will go up in later installments.
Characters/Pairing: Optimus Prime, Skywarp, Maj. Will Lennox
Warnings: mild language, mentions of past mech/mech relationship
Notes: still for the incredibly patient pellimusprime, as part of an exchange over at tf_trading_post. she's been great about not getting annoyed with my failure to continue this piece as i did other projects that inspried me or as i dealt with Real Life Shit. the shortness of this installment really doesn't do her patience any justice, but the next section won't fit in well here; the tone gets all Different.
part one is here for everyone who needs a refresher.
Optimus had given him a tour of the base that was reasonably detailed-places that were safe to enter, places that were restricted, places that would get him shot on sight for being in, things like that-and then Skywarp had been left to his own devices again as the Prime’s duty called him away again. The weapons designer was at a loss after the other mech left; he had no idea what other mechs would even deign to speak to him, let alone help him find something to occupy his time with.
He stood in the doorway of the metal building that he had woken up in-his quarters apparently-and wondered just what he was supposed to do now.
“Skywarp?” He started and whirled around, raising his arms to prime his canons before remembering that his weapons had been disabled. The blue mech standing in the clearing outside his quarters held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Sorry. I thought you’d heard me come up.”
The Seeker lowered his arms cautiously. “Do I know you?”
“Probably not. I didn’t know a lot of Seekers before I became an Autobot.” The blue mech lowered his arms as well. “My designation is Jolt. I thought you could use a hand getting settled in, since Optimus will be busy for a while now.”
Skywarp cocked his head, turning the name over in his processor. It was familiar, but he couldn’t pin down why. “What do you mean before you became an Autobot?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Once I was exactly where you are now, though that base was significantly colder.” Jolt inclined his head toward the silver Decepticon shields that still adorned the Seeker’s wingtips.
The statement finally brought forth the relevant memory file. “Jolt. I designed conductive whips for you, to correct a malfunction in your engine systems that produced an excess of energy.”
The blue mech nodded.
“You defected after the Celestial Temple was destroyed.”
Jolt nodded again. “I did. I could support an attack on legitimate military targets, but Megatron deliberately assaulted the physical manifestation of our species’ spirituality. There was no low he would not have sunk to, if he was willing to do that and there were some things I would still stand against. Your betrayal was similar, I think.”
Was it? Skywarp didn’t know, but he understood the sentiment behind being pushed too far in a way he hadn’t before. Perhaps he would understand Jolt’s comparison better if he had been a more religious mech instead of a scientifically minded mech.
“Was it worth it?” That, of all the doubts and fears and questions he had, was probably the most important. Skywarp needed to know if he had made a worthy sacrifice or not.
“Not at first.” The Autobot surprised him with that candid bit of honesty. “During those first cycles, when I was looked at with distrust and malice, I often thought about going back. I stayed, though, because I knew I had destroyed any chance of returning I had when I took on the Prime’s symbol.”
“What changed?”
“They did, really.” Jolt gestured toward the rest of the base. “It was a gradual thing, though. It didn’t happen overnight.”
Skywarp’s posture slumped. As foolish as it seemed, that was almost exactly what he had been hoping for: an immediate acknowledgment that he wasn’t the threat he once was, open trust like Optimus had given him. To hear that he wouldn’t have it dashed the small hope that he had been trying to build up into something he could believe in.
Feeling more lost and despondent than he had when Optimus left him and returned to work, Skywarp turned and went inside. He slid the door closed before Jolt could follow him inside. He moved to the center of the room slowly and dropped onto his berth with a soft keen of despair.
Universe: Bayverse
Rating: PG as of right now, but will go up in later installments.
Characters/Pairing: Optimus Prime, Skywarp, Maj. Will Lennox
Warnings: mild language, mentions of past mech/mech relationship
Notes: still for the incredibly patient pellimusprime, as part of an exchange over at tf_trading_post. she's been great about not getting annoyed with my failure to continue this piece as i did other projects that inspried me or as i dealt with Real Life Shit. the shortness of this installment really doesn't do her patience any justice, but the next section won't fit in well here; the tone gets all Different.
part one is here for everyone who needs a refresher.
Optimus had given him a tour of the base that was reasonably detailed-places that were safe to enter, places that were restricted, places that would get him shot on sight for being in, things like that-and then Skywarp had been left to his own devices again as the Prime’s duty called him away again. The weapons designer was at a loss after the other mech left; he had no idea what other mechs would even deign to speak to him, let alone help him find something to occupy his time with.
He stood in the doorway of the metal building that he had woken up in-his quarters apparently-and wondered just what he was supposed to do now.
“Skywarp?” He started and whirled around, raising his arms to prime his canons before remembering that his weapons had been disabled. The blue mech standing in the clearing outside his quarters held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Sorry. I thought you’d heard me come up.”
The Seeker lowered his arms cautiously. “Do I know you?”
“Probably not. I didn’t know a lot of Seekers before I became an Autobot.” The blue mech lowered his arms as well. “My designation is Jolt. I thought you could use a hand getting settled in, since Optimus will be busy for a while now.”
Skywarp cocked his head, turning the name over in his processor. It was familiar, but he couldn’t pin down why. “What do you mean before you became an Autobot?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Once I was exactly where you are now, though that base was significantly colder.” Jolt inclined his head toward the silver Decepticon shields that still adorned the Seeker’s wingtips.
The statement finally brought forth the relevant memory file. “Jolt. I designed conductive whips for you, to correct a malfunction in your engine systems that produced an excess of energy.”
The blue mech nodded.
“You defected after the Celestial Temple was destroyed.”
Jolt nodded again. “I did. I could support an attack on legitimate military targets, but Megatron deliberately assaulted the physical manifestation of our species’ spirituality. There was no low he would not have sunk to, if he was willing to do that and there were some things I would still stand against. Your betrayal was similar, I think.”
Was it? Skywarp didn’t know, but he understood the sentiment behind being pushed too far in a way he hadn’t before. Perhaps he would understand Jolt’s comparison better if he had been a more religious mech instead of a scientifically minded mech.
“Was it worth it?” That, of all the doubts and fears and questions he had, was probably the most important. Skywarp needed to know if he had made a worthy sacrifice or not.
“Not at first.” The Autobot surprised him with that candid bit of honesty. “During those first cycles, when I was looked at with distrust and malice, I often thought about going back. I stayed, though, because I knew I had destroyed any chance of returning I had when I took on the Prime’s symbol.”
“What changed?”
“They did, really.” Jolt gestured toward the rest of the base. “It was a gradual thing, though. It didn’t happen overnight.”
Skywarp’s posture slumped. As foolish as it seemed, that was almost exactly what he had been hoping for: an immediate acknowledgment that he wasn’t the threat he once was, open trust like Optimus had given him. To hear that he wouldn’t have it dashed the small hope that he had been trying to build up into something he could believe in.
Feeling more lost and despondent than he had when Optimus left him and returned to work, Skywarp turned and went inside. He slid the door closed before Jolt could follow him inside. He moved to the center of the room slowly and dropped onto his berth with a soft keen of despair.