Life in the Foxhole 1/??
Title: Forced Neutrality
Fandom: Transformers: Bayverse
Universe: Life in the Foxhole
Rating: K+
Characters/Pairings: Unnamed Autobot, Unnamed Decepticon, mentions of Ratchet
Warnings/Comments: Unbeta'd (as usual). :/ Really brain we couldn't work on things I already have WIP labels on? Instead you make something new?
Summary:Sometimes in war, you end up heavily wounded and far away from allies and friends. With nothing more then an enemy stuck in the same foxhole as you. It changes a man, or in this case a mech, and after Mission City those changes get examined by all sides.
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It was not one of his better missions.
Trapped in a hastily trans scanned altmode as systems collapsed or just stopped working all together. Fuel system red lining as his processor went into an abrupt about face and began compressing and archiving relevant data in the even he went off line and someone needed to download his processor. The only thing going for him was that of his spark. It was still strong and he managed to avoid any breaches of his casing and containment field, along side his laser core. Though that was a dim hope of sorts as he had enough understanding of basic field surgery to know that he was in for a very long and potentially dangerous stasis lock.
At least, as the last of his periphery systems went dark, the ‘con not more then twenty feet away from him was in as much or even worse off then he was.
He had slowly came around to the feeling of swaying and something keeping him upright and in place. The only thing visually he could ‘see’ being the sluggish diagnostic report slowly scrolling by. Many of the system checks still redlined and blaring warnings of serious repair still needed, but the amount of systems going green was at least more then what he expected. The final diagnostic finishing with a whirr and another ping of systems critically low on any sort of fuel and alternative ways to collect suggested.
He managed to activate the few remaining solar panels that hadn’t been ripped off with most of his main armor when he had been knocked around, before he was pulled back down into the odd floating sensation of stasis lock.
The second time he surfaced he managed to get past the diagnostic and was pleased when a few of his optical units manage to power up from the passive energy collection he managed to set up last time. The environment though made no sense to him at all as he took in, from the odd angles his sensors had shifted to in this form, a grey substance below and surrounding him along with very flimsy steel constructs every now and then. Not to mention the atrociously primitive tools and electronics cluttering various surfaces stained with oil and antifreeze. One sensor managing to twitch enough to take in a sign in an odd language. His processor still sluggish and riddled with systems in red more then green he spent far too long puzzling over this ‘-arge’ and what the rest of the sign had printed on it. Even though he wouldn’t be able to translate it just yet.
Only for him to take in the sight of another badly dented vehicle and his mental curse at what it meant. All while fighting the pull of stasis as he wasn’t certain he’d come back up again with that Decepticon sitting across from him.
He was surprised to come back up and have half his systems, though not green, at least not red lining and chirping warnings of severe damage at him. What was more surprising was to have his visual feeds snap on and see the still battered seeming, but in much better shape then last time, Decepticon sitting patiently in the spot from last time. Both seeming to not be bothered as they just stayed where they were and stared one another down. Only taking a secondary thought to the activity happening around them as the strange creatures made of organic material moved about talking to one another in an odd language and seeming to either be repairing or tearing apart the various vehicles around them. A sight that was a bit horrifying to both of them, if the small shudder from the ‘con as one of the vehicles was cut into with a screech of metal and flying sparks.
He at least had the smug satisfaction of being the last one to succumb back into stasis lock.
When he next managed to come back up all his internal systems were chirping back at him of being in adequate functioning capabilities while his transformation and other physical systems still grumbled along the red. A mix blessing as his internal communicator was back up, but not the systems for long range capability.
It was also the first time that he actually spoke to the Decepticon that had nearly mowed him down on the edge of the galaxy before both had ended up careening into this odd planet during an evacuation of the battle zone. It was the typical insults and bristling as both were certain the other would find a way to offline the other if they managed to get enough systems functioning to do so. The heat of the words on the radio signal soon faded after a few dozen rotations of the yellow star the planet circled. As it became more of a routine to hear the sound of a known and familiar language instead of being surrounded purely by the alien.
When it became apparent that whatever had been keeping them from ending up under the tools of the alien was gone they had both made a break for it after the aliens had left. Why he followed the Decepticon he wasn’t certain.
With the fledgling communication system known as the internet they hid and observed. He in fascination of this planet and the dominant species as it made illogical leaps and bounds in technology, and the Decepticon in surly silence that made him wonder what would happen when transformation and weapons systems could be used again. An earth decade passes, bringing the total time upon this planet up to thirty solar rotations, or years as the humans call them. Most of it having been spent out of touch of everything as heavily damaged systems worked to frantically fix themselves enough to be stable. Not fully fixed, no that would involve a medic and several long days of someone mucking about in their internals for that definition to be applied.
They would, as was becoming a very apt phrase from the humans, just have to suck it up and deal with it.
It was in the fourth decade of tolerating each other because they were the only known other on this planet that they got an inkling that it might not be true. Just as the trans scanning capabilities slowly came back online and were subsequently used to gain more appropriate disguises for the time period. Thus letting them move about more freely without having to worry about the humans gawking at the ‘vintage’ model cars roaming the streets. In the early nineties only car buffs, rich collectors, or those who painstakingly kept the family car in tip top shape would have cars from the fifties running about. It had been a blip while both passively scanned every available wavelength of communication their limited capabilities allowed in their state.
It made them both stop and actually process what this meant in terms of how they were now and how they would have to be if others did arrive. Almost half a vorn they had been on this planet, without the war or factions outside of their own personal quirks when it came to such. Like how the Decepticon made it a habit to just stare at him if he was not the first one out of recharge. A habit that, until about six years ago, had always sent him into a fit of paranoia and attempts to meld with the wall of whatever structure they were using for cover during recharge periods, just because it was not a pleasant thing to come up out of recharge to a heavy gaze centered on you, regardless of who it was doing the staring.
It was only then that he realized that they still used their factions as designations, and the suppose venom and insult for doing so had been lost long ago. It was just a habit now really.
Though they didn’t really confer so much as come to the same conclusion as they sat under a bridge in a downpour on the East coast. Both couldn’t really see going back to the war and attempting to deactivate others while not end up deactivated themselves. Even the reason for the war seemed faded and trite as they tried and recall why they had been fighting before. This odd sort of neutrality suited them and if it meant being stuck with one another for the foreseeable future then it really wasn’t that bad. They’ve survived this long dealing with one another and not wanting to push the other into oncoming traffic…well at least not to the point of actually doing so. Everyone got annoyed with everyone eventually if you were stuck constantly with the other as the only companion in a foreign environment.
Then as the talk of the new millennium faded as half a decade into it the fervor had made it mundane for many they knew they weren’t alone.
Mission City had happened far too quickly for them to comprehend or even think about showing up for and aiding in any way. Decepticon had even muttered that even if they hadn’t been three thousand miles away all they would have been good for was target practice in any case; as neither of them had managed enough self repair to even attempt a transformation yet without fear of something ripping and defeating the purpose of the stasis lock from fifty years ago. He had silently heard the other reason under the sarcastic target practice comment, as he had wondered such as well. Could they even muster up enough will to show themselves and fight once more?
They somehow began to actively avoid any areas that had even a slight rumor attached to it that could be linked to a Cybertronian sighting.
Decepticon becoming more sullen as months passed and the places they normally hid in became the worst places to do so. It was becoming apparent that in much the same way they had been looking for hints of those that had landed already and thus actively avoid such. Another source was finding old stories and legends of ‘ghost cars’ and investigating. Since many of the more benign, even if Decepticon found it funny when they got linked to the more fear inducing tales from time to time, ones were caused by them. It made going to usual places to lay low or switch an altmode when they had the energy for it, risky places to be.
The hiding became moot after a point when he had bolted out of recharge as a familiar ping was felt on his communication array. More specifically on an encrypted channel that had not been used since he first crashed on this planet. His startled action was enough that, though the line was one Decepticon did not have he correctly guessed what had just happened.
Now it was just a matter of the Autobot’s Chief Medical Officer locating the signal and this odd, foxhole of neutrality would come crashing down around them.
Fandom: Transformers: Bayverse
Universe: Life in the Foxhole
Rating: K+
Characters/Pairings: Unnamed Autobot, Unnamed Decepticon, mentions of Ratchet
Warnings/Comments: Unbeta'd (as usual). :/ Really brain we couldn't work on things I already have WIP labels on? Instead you make something new?
Summary:Sometimes in war, you end up heavily wounded and far away from allies and friends. With nothing more then an enemy stuck in the same foxhole as you. It changes a man, or in this case a mech, and after Mission City those changes get examined by all sides.
==========================================================================
It was not one of his better missions.
Trapped in a hastily trans scanned altmode as systems collapsed or just stopped working all together. Fuel system red lining as his processor went into an abrupt about face and began compressing and archiving relevant data in the even he went off line and someone needed to download his processor. The only thing going for him was that of his spark. It was still strong and he managed to avoid any breaches of his casing and containment field, along side his laser core. Though that was a dim hope of sorts as he had enough understanding of basic field surgery to know that he was in for a very long and potentially dangerous stasis lock.
At least, as the last of his periphery systems went dark, the ‘con not more then twenty feet away from him was in as much or even worse off then he was.
He had slowly came around to the feeling of swaying and something keeping him upright and in place. The only thing visually he could ‘see’ being the sluggish diagnostic report slowly scrolling by. Many of the system checks still redlined and blaring warnings of serious repair still needed, but the amount of systems going green was at least more then what he expected. The final diagnostic finishing with a whirr and another ping of systems critically low on any sort of fuel and alternative ways to collect suggested.
He managed to activate the few remaining solar panels that hadn’t been ripped off with most of his main armor when he had been knocked around, before he was pulled back down into the odd floating sensation of stasis lock.
The second time he surfaced he managed to get past the diagnostic and was pleased when a few of his optical units manage to power up from the passive energy collection he managed to set up last time. The environment though made no sense to him at all as he took in, from the odd angles his sensors had shifted to in this form, a grey substance below and surrounding him along with very flimsy steel constructs every now and then. Not to mention the atrociously primitive tools and electronics cluttering various surfaces stained with oil and antifreeze. One sensor managing to twitch enough to take in a sign in an odd language. His processor still sluggish and riddled with systems in red more then green he spent far too long puzzling over this ‘-arge’ and what the rest of the sign had printed on it. Even though he wouldn’t be able to translate it just yet.
Only for him to take in the sight of another badly dented vehicle and his mental curse at what it meant. All while fighting the pull of stasis as he wasn’t certain he’d come back up again with that Decepticon sitting across from him.
He was surprised to come back up and have half his systems, though not green, at least not red lining and chirping warnings of severe damage at him. What was more surprising was to have his visual feeds snap on and see the still battered seeming, but in much better shape then last time, Decepticon sitting patiently in the spot from last time. Both seeming to not be bothered as they just stayed where they were and stared one another down. Only taking a secondary thought to the activity happening around them as the strange creatures made of organic material moved about talking to one another in an odd language and seeming to either be repairing or tearing apart the various vehicles around them. A sight that was a bit horrifying to both of them, if the small shudder from the ‘con as one of the vehicles was cut into with a screech of metal and flying sparks.
He at least had the smug satisfaction of being the last one to succumb back into stasis lock.
When he next managed to come back up all his internal systems were chirping back at him of being in adequate functioning capabilities while his transformation and other physical systems still grumbled along the red. A mix blessing as his internal communicator was back up, but not the systems for long range capability.
It was also the first time that he actually spoke to the Decepticon that had nearly mowed him down on the edge of the galaxy before both had ended up careening into this odd planet during an evacuation of the battle zone. It was the typical insults and bristling as both were certain the other would find a way to offline the other if they managed to get enough systems functioning to do so. The heat of the words on the radio signal soon faded after a few dozen rotations of the yellow star the planet circled. As it became more of a routine to hear the sound of a known and familiar language instead of being surrounded purely by the alien.
When it became apparent that whatever had been keeping them from ending up under the tools of the alien was gone they had both made a break for it after the aliens had left. Why he followed the Decepticon he wasn’t certain.
With the fledgling communication system known as the internet they hid and observed. He in fascination of this planet and the dominant species as it made illogical leaps and bounds in technology, and the Decepticon in surly silence that made him wonder what would happen when transformation and weapons systems could be used again. An earth decade passes, bringing the total time upon this planet up to thirty solar rotations, or years as the humans call them. Most of it having been spent out of touch of everything as heavily damaged systems worked to frantically fix themselves enough to be stable. Not fully fixed, no that would involve a medic and several long days of someone mucking about in their internals for that definition to be applied.
They would, as was becoming a very apt phrase from the humans, just have to suck it up and deal with it.
It was in the fourth decade of tolerating each other because they were the only known other on this planet that they got an inkling that it might not be true. Just as the trans scanning capabilities slowly came back online and were subsequently used to gain more appropriate disguises for the time period. Thus letting them move about more freely without having to worry about the humans gawking at the ‘vintage’ model cars roaming the streets. In the early nineties only car buffs, rich collectors, or those who painstakingly kept the family car in tip top shape would have cars from the fifties running about. It had been a blip while both passively scanned every available wavelength of communication their limited capabilities allowed in their state.
It made them both stop and actually process what this meant in terms of how they were now and how they would have to be if others did arrive. Almost half a vorn they had been on this planet, without the war or factions outside of their own personal quirks when it came to such. Like how the Decepticon made it a habit to just stare at him if he was not the first one out of recharge. A habit that, until about six years ago, had always sent him into a fit of paranoia and attempts to meld with the wall of whatever structure they were using for cover during recharge periods, just because it was not a pleasant thing to come up out of recharge to a heavy gaze centered on you, regardless of who it was doing the staring.
It was only then that he realized that they still used their factions as designations, and the suppose venom and insult for doing so had been lost long ago. It was just a habit now really.
Though they didn’t really confer so much as come to the same conclusion as they sat under a bridge in a downpour on the East coast. Both couldn’t really see going back to the war and attempting to deactivate others while not end up deactivated themselves. Even the reason for the war seemed faded and trite as they tried and recall why they had been fighting before. This odd sort of neutrality suited them and if it meant being stuck with one another for the foreseeable future then it really wasn’t that bad. They’ve survived this long dealing with one another and not wanting to push the other into oncoming traffic…well at least not to the point of actually doing so. Everyone got annoyed with everyone eventually if you were stuck constantly with the other as the only companion in a foreign environment.
Then as the talk of the new millennium faded as half a decade into it the fervor had made it mundane for many they knew they weren’t alone.
Mission City had happened far too quickly for them to comprehend or even think about showing up for and aiding in any way. Decepticon had even muttered that even if they hadn’t been three thousand miles away all they would have been good for was target practice in any case; as neither of them had managed enough self repair to even attempt a transformation yet without fear of something ripping and defeating the purpose of the stasis lock from fifty years ago. He had silently heard the other reason under the sarcastic target practice comment, as he had wondered such as well. Could they even muster up enough will to show themselves and fight once more?
They somehow began to actively avoid any areas that had even a slight rumor attached to it that could be linked to a Cybertronian sighting.
Decepticon becoming more sullen as months passed and the places they normally hid in became the worst places to do so. It was becoming apparent that in much the same way they had been looking for hints of those that had landed already and thus actively avoid such. Another source was finding old stories and legends of ‘ghost cars’ and investigating. Since many of the more benign, even if Decepticon found it funny when they got linked to the more fear inducing tales from time to time, ones were caused by them. It made going to usual places to lay low or switch an altmode when they had the energy for it, risky places to be.
The hiding became moot after a point when he had bolted out of recharge as a familiar ping was felt on his communication array. More specifically on an encrypted channel that had not been used since he first crashed on this planet. His startled action was enough that, though the line was one Decepticon did not have he correctly guessed what had just happened.
Now it was just a matter of the Autobot’s Chief Medical Officer locating the signal and this odd, foxhole of neutrality would come crashing down around them.