Primary Analysis - Fission Product
Title: Primary Analysis - Fission Product
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Jetfire
Rating: PG
Summary: Any reaction causes leftover remnants. Jetfire plans.
Warnings: N/A
Notes: Ransack is from the toys, an old biplane. The rest, I made up.
o o o
Jetfire skimmed up the rocky coastline, just below the cliff edge. His sensor net was thrown wide, searching the stone for minute changes, a signal- there. He rolled in, through the holographic door and into the lit cavern of Brightwork's cargo bay. The transport was blending into the cliff face, providing a hiding place for her brethren from their enemies. From their brothers.
Their Prime had failed. He was defeated, locked away, his name stripped and his power diluted. And the other Primes would be dead within orns, exhausted by the battle and betrayal. They all were exhausted, running on fumes, and it seemed even FirstForged could die, their bodies worn out long before their sparks.
Not for the first time, Jetfire felt his age as he transformed, a disgruntled rumble from Brightwork as he landed. They were so close! The Harvester was complete, needing only the Matrix to power it, and a Prime to activate it. But the Primes had taken the Matrix, would hide it and die with the secret. And even if Jetfire could get his hands on the artifact, he had no doubt it would burn his mind to fine ash.
The others looked up at him, to him, awaiting orders. He led them now. Decepticons, the First Prime had named them. Deceiving them all until the very end. Fine. Let it be so.
"What now?" Ransack demanded, his wing arrays rattling irritatedly. "What can we do?"
"We need the Matrix," Brightwork said, her lights flickering with her words. "And a Prime to wield it."
"The Allspark has maintained a Prime on Cybertron," Drivesnap mused, pacing. "If we can convince him to our cause, we can use him."
"Or kills 'im if he don't," Excess muttered, mandibles clacking. He drew back defensively when all optics turned to him. "Yous wasn't there," he said. "Yous didn't hears. 'The Line of the Primes keeps th' Fallen'. We's kills the Prime, the Fallen walks free."
A troubled moment of silence. "Are you certain?" Ransack asked finally.
"Yous didn'thear!" Excess snapped. "The First, he saids it. He saids that the Prime is the lock."
"Then we convince him to loose the Fallen," Jetfire interrupted, before Excess could get spun up further. Excess fell back into his usual dark mutterings but subsided.
"How?" Dervish asked. "We lack the strength to reach Cybertron."
"I'll take a space bridge," Jetfire answered. "I'll convince the Prime to help us."
"The force of the Primes was split in the first Two," Ransack pointed out. "Their strength went to the Protector, their compassion to the Prime Descendant. What if the Prime will not kill these organics?"
"I'll deal if it comes to it," Jetfire's voice was bleak. "Go to ground, wait for the others to leave or die. Then search out the Matrix. One way or another, I will bring us a Prime."
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Jetfire
Rating: PG
Summary: Any reaction causes leftover remnants. Jetfire plans.
Warnings: N/A
Notes: Ransack is from the toys, an old biplane. The rest, I made up.
o o o
Jetfire skimmed up the rocky coastline, just below the cliff edge. His sensor net was thrown wide, searching the stone for minute changes, a signal- there. He rolled in, through the holographic door and into the lit cavern of Brightwork's cargo bay. The transport was blending into the cliff face, providing a hiding place for her brethren from their enemies. From their brothers.
Their Prime had failed. He was defeated, locked away, his name stripped and his power diluted. And the other Primes would be dead within orns, exhausted by the battle and betrayal. They all were exhausted, running on fumes, and it seemed even FirstForged could die, their bodies worn out long before their sparks.
Not for the first time, Jetfire felt his age as he transformed, a disgruntled rumble from Brightwork as he landed. They were so close! The Harvester was complete, needing only the Matrix to power it, and a Prime to activate it. But the Primes had taken the Matrix, would hide it and die with the secret. And even if Jetfire could get his hands on the artifact, he had no doubt it would burn his mind to fine ash.
The others looked up at him, to him, awaiting orders. He led them now. Decepticons, the First Prime had named them. Deceiving them all until the very end. Fine. Let it be so.
"What now?" Ransack demanded, his wing arrays rattling irritatedly. "What can we do?"
"We need the Matrix," Brightwork said, her lights flickering with her words. "And a Prime to wield it."
"The Allspark has maintained a Prime on Cybertron," Drivesnap mused, pacing. "If we can convince him to our cause, we can use him."
"Or kills 'im if he don't," Excess muttered, mandibles clacking. He drew back defensively when all optics turned to him. "Yous wasn't there," he said. "Yous didn't hears. 'The Line of the Primes keeps th' Fallen'. We's kills the Prime, the Fallen walks free."
A troubled moment of silence. "Are you certain?" Ransack asked finally.
"Yous didn'thear!" Excess snapped. "The First, he saids it. He saids that the Prime is the lock."
"Then we convince him to loose the Fallen," Jetfire interrupted, before Excess could get spun up further. Excess fell back into his usual dark mutterings but subsided.
"How?" Dervish asked. "We lack the strength to reach Cybertron."
"I'll take a space bridge," Jetfire answered. "I'll convince the Prime to help us."
"The force of the Primes was split in the first Two," Ransack pointed out. "Their strength went to the Protector, their compassion to the Prime Descendant. What if the Prime will not kill these organics?"
"I'll deal if it comes to it," Jetfire's voice was bleak. "Go to ground, wait for the others to leave or die. Then search out the Matrix. One way or another, I will bring us a Prime."