Fanfiction: Meeting Halfway 01
Title: Meeting Halfway
Status: Prologue + Part One; WIP
Author: NeverMineToHold (LJ/FF.net)
Verse: Bayverse/G1
Charas: Skywarp, Thundercracker, Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Swiftstrike (OC); more later
Rating: M (this part T)
Word Count: 3000 plus
Warnings/Genre (for all parts): Eventually SLASH (SkywarpxOC), H/C, Angst, Dark, Action, Violence, Romance
Feedback: most welcome ^-^
Summary: A Seeker and a Grounder... Does anyone doubt that there will be trouble? Not to forget a war is not quite a romantic background, and neither are trine-bonds something to trifle with... Dark secrets don’t make it any easier...
Note: This is written without a ‘masterplan’, I fear, so updates will be few and far between... So only read on if you don’t mind!
Meeting Halfway - Prologue
He remembered the darkness vividly.
It had shrouded his early vorns, had moved around and within him, a tangible hum of shadowy energy. The jolt of an undercurrent had hidden in its frequency, only interrupted by rare moments of stark white light, disembodied voices, touch and the stench of cleanser.
Both had drowned him in fleeting and swelling waves of data. Drizzle and torrent, crashing, crushing and tearing at his codes and programming. Symbols flooded through him in a haze, endless equations, channeled and changing in the process.
It hurt.
Deep within his frame, beyond wiring or tubing. It had stabbed his very core. His spark soon stuttering under the pressure, slowly guttering under the weight, despite its burning brightness of youth.
Its light, once iridescent with possibilities, was tainted and doomed to fade.
And he had known, filled with data to his maximum capacity, processor aching and almost melting under the strain: Soon, he would be plucked from the darkness.
The nothingness and its silent, screaming terror would let him go, - to be filled again, him replaced by another, like one did with a discharged battery.
He knew it with all the certainty of his twisted, forced function - he was only a component, vital, but not indispensable; a cog in the great machine.
One which thrilled the scientist's. So many possibilities to explore!
If their creation fed on the life force of modified hatchlings, - who would care? Better yet: Who would have the resources to discover their experiment? And, even more important: Who would have the will to end it?
Part 1
The whole Sigma base was only manned by a skeleton crew in preparation for the next mission. Every ‘bot not yet assigned to the front with the main force was either on guard duty or in deep recharge. The second hangar’s staff had long ago left, so the vast complex lay in absolute silence, only lit by the red emergency lights.
Which suited Swiftstrike’s purpose just fine. He leaned against a container in the cargo bay, watching the maintenance drones working on his damaged leg.
A heavy shudder vibrated through the ground under his dark frame. Swiftstrike onlined his audio’s, briefly annoyed by his own carelessness - he caught a sickening, dull crunch, echoing off the walls.
A stack of medical supplies rattled and shook, the straps securing it loosened and snapped back, like red whips. The noise startled the spindly drones. Bleeping pitiful in their panic, they abandoned their duty and darted over to the wall. There they slid into their housings and logged into their recharge stations.
Only the tools scattered around the cargo bay betrayed their off-schedule activity. Swiftstrike knew better than to try and recall them, his repairs were mostly finished anyway. He stood slowly, mindful of staying behind the cover of the containers, carefully testing the strength of his left pede. Flexing artificial muscles and rotating the knee joint, he was satisfied with the sensor feedback.
Swiftstrike let the thin armor plates slide back down, to cover the patched up tubing and freshly replaced circuitry. Traces of oil and coolant dried around the affected area, giving the dull plates a glossy sheen.
He could feel the spot under the gray isolation paste heat up as his self-repair system rebooted and the nanites roused to begin their work. - It would last a transformation or two, but a fight was out of the question for now. And he was too far away from the next exit to leave the hangar unnoticed, limping as he would be.
That simple fact, deserved repercussion for dropping his guard, was followed by another: Such a sign of weakness, choosing retreat over a confrontation, was no option for one serving under Lord Megatron.
Swiftstrike’s audio’s picked up the sound of Seeker’s approaching; turbines howling down from the sky. A mere breem later, two soft impacts resounded in the vast hall, accompanied by the hiss of hydraulics and squeal of tires on tarmac. Their transformation sequence’s ran smoothly, - no injuries, then. Words were instantly exchanged in coded Seeker cant; the tones malicious.
Swiftstrike initiated a covert scan to identify their energy signatures - the Air Commander himself, with his wingmates, Thundercracker and Skywarp.
Interesting.
He activated his second pair of sensor-optics to get a more detailed reading. Swiftstrike’s HUD split up in response and the subroutines to redirect the double-input came online automatically. The round, golden lenses slid along their narrow rail to the back of his helm and zeroed in on the unexpected arrivals. A quick code sequence added and the visual feed switched to thermal readings.
The three tall, similarly built frames loomed only klicks away, clustered in the closest corner. Two were speckled with cooling blue spots, but the third Seeker trailed a vivid heat signature of fresh energon; the liquid trickling down his hip plates.
Main line damage, maybe even worse.
Swiftstrike retreated a bit deeper into the shadows and called up the recent mission log for the trine, hacking through Soundwave’s codes with the ease of familiarity. So, the reconnaissance run had been discovered by an Autobot patrol, most likely. Which meant that their gathered intel about the latest fortifications of Iacon were worthless by now. - Lord Megatron would not be pleased.
Not that Swiftstrike was surprised. He had only expected for something like this to happen sooner. Iacon was heavily guarded, after all, and the Seekers tended to find this kind of ‘dull’ duty to be beneath them. Grounder work, to be precise.
They should know better. Neither faction could afford a long siege on Iacon.
And the Autobots became quickly more desperate as the vorns passed. Their Prime, the Council, the last functioning Youth Sector and main Academy were all situated there - not to mention all the civilians and refugees taking shelter. All those factors gave the Autobot stronghold an immense strategic value.
They had other hideouts and bases, of course, but this one the Autobots must defend - to lose it would mean the first step to an overwhelming Decepticon victory.
... of course, the Air Commander would make up excuses for this failure which had lost them an important advantage in the upcoming battle.
But all that was irrelevant to the situation at servo. Their argument would not keep them occupied much longer and thus oblivious to Swiftstrike’s presence. So, bracing himself for what was to come, he turned to face them and relaxed.
The ‘bots may change, but never the rules of the game - and he would not fail to win the first round.
BREAK
Skywarp vented a relieved sigh of steamy air as the hangar swallowed his airborne jet-mode which barely managed to keep skimming over the surface. The whistling howl of his turbines guttered as he finally prepared for touch down.
He winced in pain as his armor plates scraped together in the wrong places as he transformed; sparks fluttered away from him like cyber-flies.
Rare were the moments when he preferred to stand with both pedes planted firmly on the ground instead of flying through the endlessness of Cybertrons sky. But this cycle he had sustained enough damage to taint every simple maneuver with the risk of crashing.
Skywarp staggered some steps to the side, to clear the runway for his incoming trinemates. Energon sloshed down his hip as the movement reopened the wound; it dripped on the steelplast like the patter of acidic rain.
Quickly, he pressed a servo against the ragged hole, a piece of shrapnel had left behind, to staunch the flow. A cursory check revealed that a smaller shard he hadn’t noticed before had ruptured the backup line as well. The pressure to the adjoining systems was already dropping dramatically; the stench of the bright blue liquid rotten sweet. The metal all around the tube felt hot and stung with the bite of working nanites.
He twitched, feeling the bond tighten. A black, churning mass of negativity flooded through the connection he shared with Thundercracker and Skywarp braced himself wearily. From Starscream’s side there was only silence.
”Frag!” he cursed quietly, feeling the energon pouring through his clenched talons, to run down his pede; the pressure applied not enough.
That slag heap of an old-timer had still quite the good aim. The humiliation, to end up sprawled on the ground, lying in a crater of debris, surrounded by a cloud of settling dust. He had needed the cover fire of his trinemates to get back on his pedes and up into the sky. - Not that Ironhide had had any time to celebrate his lucky potshot. Skywarp was sure that the old soldier would wear the new scar like a badge of honor - should he stay online to see the next cycle, that is.
The trine-bonds whisper grew as Starscream and TC landed with the graceful smoothness of birds of prey. Both were barely scratched form their unplanned skirmish with the Autobot patrol.
As expected, the dark blue jet rounded on him immediately: ”Breaking formation again, Skywarp?” Thundercracker hissed; wings flaring out in his rage as he leaned close.
Skywarp growled in reply, showing his fangs in warning, hating that Starscream - their leader; trine - just stood there, aloof, to watch with a smirk.
When did it happen? And how? When had the three of them started to change, from the pride of their Academy, to... this?
A fist struck Skywarp before he had any chance to dodge; blindsiding him completely. He should have expected it, from experience, at least, but his processor was too slowed down by all those warnings cluttering his HUD faster than he could overwrite them. His cockpit took the impact with a dubious creak.
Thundercracker’s talons raked over the smooth, glassy surface, to scar it with a white web of scratch marks. He pushed viciously as Skywarp reeled unsteadily, sending the lilac frame rocking back.
How he longed to just teleport away, but Skywarp was not too keen on tearing himself apart. His fuselage hand no chance of withstanding the energy displacement in its current condition. Not with all those micro-fissures burning in warning and his dented wing throbbing.
”Frag off!” Skywarp growled; regaining his footing. ”It wasn't -”
”My - what do we have here?” interrupted Starscream suddenly, switching from cant to standard Cybertronian; vocalizer thick with lazy enjoyment.
Skywarp turned his helm to follow his leaders line of sight, noticing for the first time two slanted pinpricks of red, not too far away; by the cargo bay.
Thundercracker lost all interest in him instantly, dark glee seeping into his optics as he spotted a new target.
”A little grounder, spying on our trine business,” continued Starscream with a haughty sneer.
He was satisfied to point his irate trinemate to a better suited source of... entertainment. Skywarp they would need fully functional the next cycle, after all. But a dust-crawler less would draw no ‘bots attention on base. Them vanishing? It happened all the time. - And their report to Megatron could wait the few klicks longer that this would take...
Skywarp barely paid attention as TC slowly stalked over to the grounder like a vulture would close in on its helpless prey, - he felt too dizzy to focus. Mindful of his dented wing, he stepped back to lean against the wall behind him. Skywarp tried to not let his relief show, to give the casual impression that he didn't need the support... He knew he failed, but couldn't muster the energy to care.
”I wonder,” began TC his taunt, optics reduced to cruel slits, talons flexing eagerly at his sides in anticipation, ”what need does our leader have for such a rickety drone as you?”
The grounder didn't answer, only tilted his helm up to stare at Thundercracker’s faceplate. The mechs own was too dark in the red tinted twilight to distinguish his features.
”You really seem to enjoy the benefits of your built, - you're full of dirt, grunt.”
Skywarp ignored TC’s next words and ran a diagnostic routine, but he could not help but feel curious at the grounders odd behavior - or lack, thereof.
Not that Skywarp spared most dust-crawlers more than a passing glance, - he was a Seeker, after all. But as a rule all Decepticon’s did not just stand around to take what was thrown at them. They would normally bristle immediately, snarl back and brandish their inferior weapons at such an insult; always ready for a brawl.
Was the dull black ‘bot frozen in fear already? If so, then TC might do them all a favor by off-lining him. Weeding out one of the weak was necessary. There was no place for cowards in the Decepticon army.
... even so, Skywarp was too exhausted for this slag.
”Hurry up, TC,” he muttered, not at all pleased that he had to wait and watch the ‘fun’.
Not when he needed to visit the med-bay and wanted nothing more than to rest in his quarters afterwards. Not when he knew that he himself could have been in the place of this random ‘bot, to be humiliated, a mere target for TC to vent his anger...
Skywarp just wanted to forget that this cycle had ever happened.
His mood didn't improve as all his queries came back too slow and red-flagged. The fresh jolts of pain only went a step further. No matter how many receptors he shut down, their signals persisted.
Skywarp shuddered involuntarily, the rattle of his wings against the wall too loud in the tense silence. He could feel Starscream’s optics on him and had no problem to imagine his sneer. The Air Commander had no need for scans to be privy to the reason for Skywarp’s impatience and pathetic display, knowing all the details of his predicament already.
Although their bond was worn thin from the discord between them, it still exposed his every weakness when Skywarp was in no condition to actively monitor his natural feedback into their threefold resonance.
Thundercracker had meanwhile stopped directly in front of the grounder, who barely reached up to his shoulder plate; only slightly taller than a minibot. TC was visibly growing frustrated by the lack of response, as he stared down on the mech who was hard to make out in the lighting, even at that distance.
Belatedly, he grinned in answer to Skywarp’s words: ”Sure. Let’s end this now so you can drag your sorry aft to med-bay.”
Thundercracker prepared to lunge, taking his time, not bothering to waste energy to power up his weapons. His talons were poised to tear straight though the spark chamber of -
”I don't think so.”
The grounders words rang in the silence, but were at once swallowed by the hiss of TC’s uncoiling hyper-carbonate musculature; powering his punch. Instead of connecting, ripping through armor plates to expose and gutter the spark - the outcome all three Seekers expected like given fact - the blow only met thin air. The smaller mech had sidestepped with insulting ease.
Carried by his own momentum, Thundercracker stumbled forward and past his pivoting target. Before the blue jet could regain his balance, the black mech had folded down into his alt mode; metal rearranging in eerie silence.
The unlit silhouette of a Cybertronian speed bike jolted forward instantly, engines going full throttle but only emitting a dull whisper instead of the expected roar. Its advance stopped abruptly, tires screeching, frame tilting into a tight circle-spin, - bludgeoning with all its gathered impetus into Thundercracker’s pedes.
Skywarp could only stand and stare as the crash resounded in the - thank Primus! - deserted hangar, followed by the deafening noise as TC’s blue frame hit the ground with a startled yell: ”Gaah!”
Even worse, TC’s wingtip grazed the advancing Starscream, who failed to react quickly enough. Unprepared for the sideways impact he took mid-step, the Air Commander had to hop around in an undignified display of flailing limbs to restore his equilibrium.
”Slag it all to pit!” Starscream snapped; clanking about.
Skywarp had to admit that the whole spectacle was hilarious. His pain was momentarily forgotten, - as he found himself looking into four optics - golden and red slits, glowing in the semi-darkness.
That ‘bot was... interesting, for lack of a better adjective. A pity, almost, that he would be slagged as soon as TC got back up. Or maybe Starscream would be faster.
”I expected more of the famous Seeker trine.” The words were spoken lightly, more stating fact, than with mocking intent.
”You took us by surprise,” Skywarp admitted, responding unthinkingly. And, why not? He was too amused to care. Who was this mech who had managed to ground TC and make a dancing fool out of Starscream with one simple maneuver?
He didn’t mind right now that he would never hear the end of this, - Skywarp rather thought of it as a healthy experience for his fellow Seekers. Now TC knew how he had felt. Luckily for him, his processor was not yet so far gone as to thank the grounder for the impromptu lesson.
”Which won't happen a second time,” promised Thundercracker fiercely; who had gotten back up with the typical graceless clumsiness of a flier.
”Oh, I agree completely,” said Starscream, null-rays already powered up and humming; aiming point blank at the grounders helm - or rather, a bit above the upper pair of glowing pinpricks.
All four optics flashed briefly to the closest exit - ”Not this cycle.” - and with that calm reply the ‘bot took a step back, ignoring the threat of the trained weapon, and seemed to melt with the darkness.
”Don’t think you can get a-”
”Starscream!”
Megatron’s enraged growl preceded his entrance, his tall frame filling the main gate with his presence. His blood-red optics promised punishment for their failure - and insult, to leave him waiting.
Soundwave, ever faithful shadow, loomed behind him; datapad in servo. Undoubtedly it showed a feed from one of the many surveillance cameras within the hangar.
Skywarp hated that another, traitorous shudder rattled his frame as he stepped away from the wall; wondering if he could withstand their leaders enraged... attention.
Before Starscream could even open his mouth plates to spin his web of sweet lies and groveling sermon, another voice ghosted from the shadows: ”My Lord Megatron - the data crystal you required.”
Something glittered in the red emergency lights as it flew through the air, only to be caught deftly by Megatron’s claws.
Skywarp could see, coming closer to fall into formation with his trinemates, that the sparkling prism glowed a faint yellow. It had only been recently recorded.
Megatron studied it for a moment and Skywarp wondered with distant interest if the weird grounder mech actually longed for his deactivation, - he was certainly asking for it.
TC seemed to have come to the same conclusion; he was barely able to hide his ugly smirk. - But he and his trine were in for another surprise that night-cycle.
”Excellent work, Swiftstrike. You may leave now.”
Skywarp heard their leaders words only as staticy bursts of noise, feeling suddenly light-headed and disconnected from the scene unfolding around him. No, he had felt this sensation creeping up on him ever since he had entered the hangar...
The energon’s color fascinated him now, as it ran down his hip and he pondered why such a dark dread filled their trine-bond till it was taut. - Did Megatron shout?
... too much lost energon, Skywarp thought with careless detachment.
Beside him, Starscream screeched as his wing was bent...
tbc...
Part 2 (not yet, sorry!)
Status: Prologue + Part One; WIP
Author: NeverMineToHold (LJ/FF.net)
Verse: Bayverse/G1
Charas: Skywarp, Thundercracker, Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Swiftstrike (OC); more later
Rating: M (this part T)
Word Count: 3000 plus
Warnings/Genre (for all parts): Eventually SLASH (SkywarpxOC), H/C, Angst, Dark, Action, Violence, Romance
Feedback: most welcome ^-^
Summary: A Seeker and a Grounder... Does anyone doubt that there will be trouble? Not to forget a war is not quite a romantic background, and neither are trine-bonds something to trifle with... Dark secrets don’t make it any easier...
Note: This is written without a ‘masterplan’, I fear, so updates will be few and far between... So only read on if you don’t mind!
Meeting Halfway - Prologue
He remembered the darkness vividly.
It had shrouded his early vorns, had moved around and within him, a tangible hum of shadowy energy. The jolt of an undercurrent had hidden in its frequency, only interrupted by rare moments of stark white light, disembodied voices, touch and the stench of cleanser.
Both had drowned him in fleeting and swelling waves of data. Drizzle and torrent, crashing, crushing and tearing at his codes and programming. Symbols flooded through him in a haze, endless equations, channeled and changing in the process.
It hurt.
Deep within his frame, beyond wiring or tubing. It had stabbed his very core. His spark soon stuttering under the pressure, slowly guttering under the weight, despite its burning brightness of youth.
Its light, once iridescent with possibilities, was tainted and doomed to fade.
And he had known, filled with data to his maximum capacity, processor aching and almost melting under the strain: Soon, he would be plucked from the darkness.
The nothingness and its silent, screaming terror would let him go, - to be filled again, him replaced by another, like one did with a discharged battery.
He knew it with all the certainty of his twisted, forced function - he was only a component, vital, but not indispensable; a cog in the great machine.
One which thrilled the scientist's. So many possibilities to explore!
If their creation fed on the life force of modified hatchlings, - who would care? Better yet: Who would have the resources to discover their experiment? And, even more important: Who would have the will to end it?
Part 1
The whole Sigma base was only manned by a skeleton crew in preparation for the next mission. Every ‘bot not yet assigned to the front with the main force was either on guard duty or in deep recharge. The second hangar’s staff had long ago left, so the vast complex lay in absolute silence, only lit by the red emergency lights.
Which suited Swiftstrike’s purpose just fine. He leaned against a container in the cargo bay, watching the maintenance drones working on his damaged leg.
A heavy shudder vibrated through the ground under his dark frame. Swiftstrike onlined his audio’s, briefly annoyed by his own carelessness - he caught a sickening, dull crunch, echoing off the walls.
A stack of medical supplies rattled and shook, the straps securing it loosened and snapped back, like red whips. The noise startled the spindly drones. Bleeping pitiful in their panic, they abandoned their duty and darted over to the wall. There they slid into their housings and logged into their recharge stations.
Only the tools scattered around the cargo bay betrayed their off-schedule activity. Swiftstrike knew better than to try and recall them, his repairs were mostly finished anyway. He stood slowly, mindful of staying behind the cover of the containers, carefully testing the strength of his left pede. Flexing artificial muscles and rotating the knee joint, he was satisfied with the sensor feedback.
Swiftstrike let the thin armor plates slide back down, to cover the patched up tubing and freshly replaced circuitry. Traces of oil and coolant dried around the affected area, giving the dull plates a glossy sheen.
He could feel the spot under the gray isolation paste heat up as his self-repair system rebooted and the nanites roused to begin their work. - It would last a transformation or two, but a fight was out of the question for now. And he was too far away from the next exit to leave the hangar unnoticed, limping as he would be.
That simple fact, deserved repercussion for dropping his guard, was followed by another: Such a sign of weakness, choosing retreat over a confrontation, was no option for one serving under Lord Megatron.
Swiftstrike’s audio’s picked up the sound of Seeker’s approaching; turbines howling down from the sky. A mere breem later, two soft impacts resounded in the vast hall, accompanied by the hiss of hydraulics and squeal of tires on tarmac. Their transformation sequence’s ran smoothly, - no injuries, then. Words were instantly exchanged in coded Seeker cant; the tones malicious.
Swiftstrike initiated a covert scan to identify their energy signatures - the Air Commander himself, with his wingmates, Thundercracker and Skywarp.
Interesting.
He activated his second pair of sensor-optics to get a more detailed reading. Swiftstrike’s HUD split up in response and the subroutines to redirect the double-input came online automatically. The round, golden lenses slid along their narrow rail to the back of his helm and zeroed in on the unexpected arrivals. A quick code sequence added and the visual feed switched to thermal readings.
The three tall, similarly built frames loomed only klicks away, clustered in the closest corner. Two were speckled with cooling blue spots, but the third Seeker trailed a vivid heat signature of fresh energon; the liquid trickling down his hip plates.
Main line damage, maybe even worse.
Swiftstrike retreated a bit deeper into the shadows and called up the recent mission log for the trine, hacking through Soundwave’s codes with the ease of familiarity. So, the reconnaissance run had been discovered by an Autobot patrol, most likely. Which meant that their gathered intel about the latest fortifications of Iacon were worthless by now. - Lord Megatron would not be pleased.
Not that Swiftstrike was surprised. He had only expected for something like this to happen sooner. Iacon was heavily guarded, after all, and the Seekers tended to find this kind of ‘dull’ duty to be beneath them. Grounder work, to be precise.
They should know better. Neither faction could afford a long siege on Iacon.
And the Autobots became quickly more desperate as the vorns passed. Their Prime, the Council, the last functioning Youth Sector and main Academy were all situated there - not to mention all the civilians and refugees taking shelter. All those factors gave the Autobot stronghold an immense strategic value.
They had other hideouts and bases, of course, but this one the Autobots must defend - to lose it would mean the first step to an overwhelming Decepticon victory.
... of course, the Air Commander would make up excuses for this failure which had lost them an important advantage in the upcoming battle.
But all that was irrelevant to the situation at servo. Their argument would not keep them occupied much longer and thus oblivious to Swiftstrike’s presence. So, bracing himself for what was to come, he turned to face them and relaxed.
The ‘bots may change, but never the rules of the game - and he would not fail to win the first round.
BREAK
Skywarp vented a relieved sigh of steamy air as the hangar swallowed his airborne jet-mode which barely managed to keep skimming over the surface. The whistling howl of his turbines guttered as he finally prepared for touch down.
He winced in pain as his armor plates scraped together in the wrong places as he transformed; sparks fluttered away from him like cyber-flies.
Rare were the moments when he preferred to stand with both pedes planted firmly on the ground instead of flying through the endlessness of Cybertrons sky. But this cycle he had sustained enough damage to taint every simple maneuver with the risk of crashing.
Skywarp staggered some steps to the side, to clear the runway for his incoming trinemates. Energon sloshed down his hip as the movement reopened the wound; it dripped on the steelplast like the patter of acidic rain.
Quickly, he pressed a servo against the ragged hole, a piece of shrapnel had left behind, to staunch the flow. A cursory check revealed that a smaller shard he hadn’t noticed before had ruptured the backup line as well. The pressure to the adjoining systems was already dropping dramatically; the stench of the bright blue liquid rotten sweet. The metal all around the tube felt hot and stung with the bite of working nanites.
He twitched, feeling the bond tighten. A black, churning mass of negativity flooded through the connection he shared with Thundercracker and Skywarp braced himself wearily. From Starscream’s side there was only silence.
”Frag!” he cursed quietly, feeling the energon pouring through his clenched talons, to run down his pede; the pressure applied not enough.
That slag heap of an old-timer had still quite the good aim. The humiliation, to end up sprawled on the ground, lying in a crater of debris, surrounded by a cloud of settling dust. He had needed the cover fire of his trinemates to get back on his pedes and up into the sky. - Not that Ironhide had had any time to celebrate his lucky potshot. Skywarp was sure that the old soldier would wear the new scar like a badge of honor - should he stay online to see the next cycle, that is.
The trine-bonds whisper grew as Starscream and TC landed with the graceful smoothness of birds of prey. Both were barely scratched form their unplanned skirmish with the Autobot patrol.
As expected, the dark blue jet rounded on him immediately: ”Breaking formation again, Skywarp?” Thundercracker hissed; wings flaring out in his rage as he leaned close.
Skywarp growled in reply, showing his fangs in warning, hating that Starscream - their leader; trine - just stood there, aloof, to watch with a smirk.
When did it happen? And how? When had the three of them started to change, from the pride of their Academy, to... this?
A fist struck Skywarp before he had any chance to dodge; blindsiding him completely. He should have expected it, from experience, at least, but his processor was too slowed down by all those warnings cluttering his HUD faster than he could overwrite them. His cockpit took the impact with a dubious creak.
Thundercracker’s talons raked over the smooth, glassy surface, to scar it with a white web of scratch marks. He pushed viciously as Skywarp reeled unsteadily, sending the lilac frame rocking back.
How he longed to just teleport away, but Skywarp was not too keen on tearing himself apart. His fuselage hand no chance of withstanding the energy displacement in its current condition. Not with all those micro-fissures burning in warning and his dented wing throbbing.
”Frag off!” Skywarp growled; regaining his footing. ”It wasn't -”
”My - what do we have here?” interrupted Starscream suddenly, switching from cant to standard Cybertronian; vocalizer thick with lazy enjoyment.
Skywarp turned his helm to follow his leaders line of sight, noticing for the first time two slanted pinpricks of red, not too far away; by the cargo bay.
Thundercracker lost all interest in him instantly, dark glee seeping into his optics as he spotted a new target.
”A little grounder, spying on our trine business,” continued Starscream with a haughty sneer.
He was satisfied to point his irate trinemate to a better suited source of... entertainment. Skywarp they would need fully functional the next cycle, after all. But a dust-crawler less would draw no ‘bots attention on base. Them vanishing? It happened all the time. - And their report to Megatron could wait the few klicks longer that this would take...
Skywarp barely paid attention as TC slowly stalked over to the grounder like a vulture would close in on its helpless prey, - he felt too dizzy to focus. Mindful of his dented wing, he stepped back to lean against the wall behind him. Skywarp tried to not let his relief show, to give the casual impression that he didn't need the support... He knew he failed, but couldn't muster the energy to care.
”I wonder,” began TC his taunt, optics reduced to cruel slits, talons flexing eagerly at his sides in anticipation, ”what need does our leader have for such a rickety drone as you?”
The grounder didn't answer, only tilted his helm up to stare at Thundercracker’s faceplate. The mechs own was too dark in the red tinted twilight to distinguish his features.
”You really seem to enjoy the benefits of your built, - you're full of dirt, grunt.”
Skywarp ignored TC’s next words and ran a diagnostic routine, but he could not help but feel curious at the grounders odd behavior - or lack, thereof.
Not that Skywarp spared most dust-crawlers more than a passing glance, - he was a Seeker, after all. But as a rule all Decepticon’s did not just stand around to take what was thrown at them. They would normally bristle immediately, snarl back and brandish their inferior weapons at such an insult; always ready for a brawl.
Was the dull black ‘bot frozen in fear already? If so, then TC might do them all a favor by off-lining him. Weeding out one of the weak was necessary. There was no place for cowards in the Decepticon army.
... even so, Skywarp was too exhausted for this slag.
”Hurry up, TC,” he muttered, not at all pleased that he had to wait and watch the ‘fun’.
Not when he needed to visit the med-bay and wanted nothing more than to rest in his quarters afterwards. Not when he knew that he himself could have been in the place of this random ‘bot, to be humiliated, a mere target for TC to vent his anger...
Skywarp just wanted to forget that this cycle had ever happened.
His mood didn't improve as all his queries came back too slow and red-flagged. The fresh jolts of pain only went a step further. No matter how many receptors he shut down, their signals persisted.
Skywarp shuddered involuntarily, the rattle of his wings against the wall too loud in the tense silence. He could feel Starscream’s optics on him and had no problem to imagine his sneer. The Air Commander had no need for scans to be privy to the reason for Skywarp’s impatience and pathetic display, knowing all the details of his predicament already.
Although their bond was worn thin from the discord between them, it still exposed his every weakness when Skywarp was in no condition to actively monitor his natural feedback into their threefold resonance.
Thundercracker had meanwhile stopped directly in front of the grounder, who barely reached up to his shoulder plate; only slightly taller than a minibot. TC was visibly growing frustrated by the lack of response, as he stared down on the mech who was hard to make out in the lighting, even at that distance.
Belatedly, he grinned in answer to Skywarp’s words: ”Sure. Let’s end this now so you can drag your sorry aft to med-bay.”
Thundercracker prepared to lunge, taking his time, not bothering to waste energy to power up his weapons. His talons were poised to tear straight though the spark chamber of -
”I don't think so.”
The grounders words rang in the silence, but were at once swallowed by the hiss of TC’s uncoiling hyper-carbonate musculature; powering his punch. Instead of connecting, ripping through armor plates to expose and gutter the spark - the outcome all three Seekers expected like given fact - the blow only met thin air. The smaller mech had sidestepped with insulting ease.
Carried by his own momentum, Thundercracker stumbled forward and past his pivoting target. Before the blue jet could regain his balance, the black mech had folded down into his alt mode; metal rearranging in eerie silence.
The unlit silhouette of a Cybertronian speed bike jolted forward instantly, engines going full throttle but only emitting a dull whisper instead of the expected roar. Its advance stopped abruptly, tires screeching, frame tilting into a tight circle-spin, - bludgeoning with all its gathered impetus into Thundercracker’s pedes.
Skywarp could only stand and stare as the crash resounded in the - thank Primus! - deserted hangar, followed by the deafening noise as TC’s blue frame hit the ground with a startled yell: ”Gaah!”
Even worse, TC’s wingtip grazed the advancing Starscream, who failed to react quickly enough. Unprepared for the sideways impact he took mid-step, the Air Commander had to hop around in an undignified display of flailing limbs to restore his equilibrium.
”Slag it all to pit!” Starscream snapped; clanking about.
Skywarp had to admit that the whole spectacle was hilarious. His pain was momentarily forgotten, - as he found himself looking into four optics - golden and red slits, glowing in the semi-darkness.
That ‘bot was... interesting, for lack of a better adjective. A pity, almost, that he would be slagged as soon as TC got back up. Or maybe Starscream would be faster.
”I expected more of the famous Seeker trine.” The words were spoken lightly, more stating fact, than with mocking intent.
”You took us by surprise,” Skywarp admitted, responding unthinkingly. And, why not? He was too amused to care. Who was this mech who had managed to ground TC and make a dancing fool out of Starscream with one simple maneuver?
He didn’t mind right now that he would never hear the end of this, - Skywarp rather thought of it as a healthy experience for his fellow Seekers. Now TC knew how he had felt. Luckily for him, his processor was not yet so far gone as to thank the grounder for the impromptu lesson.
”Which won't happen a second time,” promised Thundercracker fiercely; who had gotten back up with the typical graceless clumsiness of a flier.
”Oh, I agree completely,” said Starscream, null-rays already powered up and humming; aiming point blank at the grounders helm - or rather, a bit above the upper pair of glowing pinpricks.
All four optics flashed briefly to the closest exit - ”Not this cycle.” - and with that calm reply the ‘bot took a step back, ignoring the threat of the trained weapon, and seemed to melt with the darkness.
”Don’t think you can get a-”
”Starscream!”
Megatron’s enraged growl preceded his entrance, his tall frame filling the main gate with his presence. His blood-red optics promised punishment for their failure - and insult, to leave him waiting.
Soundwave, ever faithful shadow, loomed behind him; datapad in servo. Undoubtedly it showed a feed from one of the many surveillance cameras within the hangar.
Skywarp hated that another, traitorous shudder rattled his frame as he stepped away from the wall; wondering if he could withstand their leaders enraged... attention.
Before Starscream could even open his mouth plates to spin his web of sweet lies and groveling sermon, another voice ghosted from the shadows: ”My Lord Megatron - the data crystal you required.”
Something glittered in the red emergency lights as it flew through the air, only to be caught deftly by Megatron’s claws.
Skywarp could see, coming closer to fall into formation with his trinemates, that the sparkling prism glowed a faint yellow. It had only been recently recorded.
Megatron studied it for a moment and Skywarp wondered with distant interest if the weird grounder mech actually longed for his deactivation, - he was certainly asking for it.
TC seemed to have come to the same conclusion; he was barely able to hide his ugly smirk. - But he and his trine were in for another surprise that night-cycle.
”Excellent work, Swiftstrike. You may leave now.”
Skywarp heard their leaders words only as staticy bursts of noise, feeling suddenly light-headed and disconnected from the scene unfolding around him. No, he had felt this sensation creeping up on him ever since he had entered the hangar...
The energon’s color fascinated him now, as it ran down his hip and he pondered why such a dark dread filled their trine-bond till it was taut. - Did Megatron shout?
... too much lost energon, Skywarp thought with careless detachment.
Beside him, Starscream screeched as his wing was bent...
tbc...
Part 2 (not yet, sorry!)