Speedwriting Fill
Title: Oblivion
Rating: T
Continuity: AU G1
Characters: Jazz
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Prompt: 5. A scary place in space.
(Thank you to Gatekat for reminding me to put in a warning!)
There was one area where the Cybertronians avoided at all costs. It was to this place that he returned.
It was a small system. Eight planets; four rocky, four gas giants, an asteroid belt between the fourth and fifth planets. The sun was young still, with millions and millions of years before it died. The third planet was origin to a small, bipedal, organic race. They had long expanded outward, leaving the system abandoned behind them.
Among the asteroids floated a Cybertronian craft. It was ancient, abandoned long before the organics had left the system. Small, round, more a drifting building than a ship. Its sides were stained with dirt and ash, strewn with dents and dings.
Once inside, though, the appearance of the structure changed. Inside was pristine. Clean, white walls. Beautiful crystal and precious metal inlays.
And caskets. Long, heavy boxes made of hard, gray metal. Some bigger, some smaller, all settled neatly into niches in the wall.
He stood in the center of the room, taking a moment to stare at each casket. The largest, set in the middle, the one he knew held Optimus Prime. Flanking him were Ratchet, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Blaster, Wheeljack, Skyfire, Powerglide, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, Cosmos, Prowl…
Here he faltered. Prowl. His beloved. He had gone on for so long without him, but now…
He could feel his spark faltering. His time was up, and he knew it. Just like all the others.
The ship had been constructed after Unicron had attacked, and his victims had been laid to rest in the monument. The war had been ended soon after, but mechs had been slowly making their ways back to join their comrades, brothers-in-arms, and lovers in their rest.
And now it was his time.
There was an open niche left next to Prowl for him. He had insisted. Slowly, he stepped up to the empty casket and stared into it.
Just an open box. Blank, dark metal.
He stepped in.
Lay himself down.
The activation sequence to close the casket and put it into place was easily sent and quickly received.
Jazz was quickly closed into darkness. He initiated a shutdown protocol, an old one, from back when he was still a lowly saboteur who could easily be replaced and forgotten.
Slowly, he fell into oblivion.
I’m comin’, Prowler.
Rating: T
Continuity: AU G1
Characters: Jazz
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Prompt: 5. A scary place in space.
(Thank you to Gatekat for reminding me to put in a warning!)
There was one area where the Cybertronians avoided at all costs. It was to this place that he returned.
It was a small system. Eight planets; four rocky, four gas giants, an asteroid belt between the fourth and fifth planets. The sun was young still, with millions and millions of years before it died. The third planet was origin to a small, bipedal, organic race. They had long expanded outward, leaving the system abandoned behind them.
Among the asteroids floated a Cybertronian craft. It was ancient, abandoned long before the organics had left the system. Small, round, more a drifting building than a ship. Its sides were stained with dirt and ash, strewn with dents and dings.
Once inside, though, the appearance of the structure changed. Inside was pristine. Clean, white walls. Beautiful crystal and precious metal inlays.
And caskets. Long, heavy boxes made of hard, gray metal. Some bigger, some smaller, all settled neatly into niches in the wall.
He stood in the center of the room, taking a moment to stare at each casket. The largest, set in the middle, the one he knew held Optimus Prime. Flanking him were Ratchet, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Blaster, Wheeljack, Skyfire, Powerglide, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, Cosmos, Prowl…
Here he faltered. Prowl. His beloved. He had gone on for so long without him, but now…
He could feel his spark faltering. His time was up, and he knew it. Just like all the others.
The ship had been constructed after Unicron had attacked, and his victims had been laid to rest in the monument. The war had been ended soon after, but mechs had been slowly making their ways back to join their comrades, brothers-in-arms, and lovers in their rest.
And now it was his time.
There was an open niche left next to Prowl for him. He had insisted. Slowly, he stepped up to the empty casket and stared into it.
Just an open box. Blank, dark metal.
He stepped in.
Lay himself down.
The activation sequence to close the casket and put it into place was easily sent and quickly received.
Jazz was quickly closed into darkness. He initiated a shutdown protocol, an old one, from back when he was still a lowly saboteur who could easily be replaced and forgotten.
Slowly, he fell into oblivion.
I’m comin’, Prowler.