Coming Home- Chapter 1
Author’s notes: So this is the first time in a while that I’ve gotten into long fiction, so bear with me. This story is set after MTMTE 5 with some elements of later issues, though unless its stated, you can assume this is separated from the series after mtmte 5.
Just so you know who Lance is, in regards to this story: http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m67io0B4ZB1r0sq8j.jpg He’s Wings brother here, and was rather distrusting of the Decepticon his brother brought back. I’ll probably end up writing some stuff for that too.
Coming Home Chapter 1-A Chance encounter
Drift checked the datapad in his hand for the tenth time, despite knowing exactly what was on it. He was uneasy, stopping at an alien port for supplies, even though it was essential, was risky. Other species weren’t very fond of Cybertronians, and it was best not to linger. Even Rodimus had agreed that only those who had to help with the resupply run should go out. The less risk of inciting the locals, the better; Even so, the native organic and semisynthetic species were watching all of them very carefully.
Of course, the “Crusadercons” were watching the locals back with similar intensity. No one wanted much more trouble, not after Delphi.
Delphi. Drift shuddered at the fresh memories of that place, mingled with a lingering fear of the DJD; he’d blustered on when Ratchet asked if he was afraid of the DJD. But in reality, he was terrified of what they’d do to him. He would rather run himself through the chest with a sword again. Drift shook his head. He had work to do; now was not the time to get lost in his mind. He looked over the order forms handed to him by a dock worker to ensure that they were in order, and nodded. “Thank you.”
The dockworker took the forms and fidgeted a moment, Drift tilted his head. “Is there something else?”
The alien shrugged. “Rumour says your war is over Cybertronian.” Drift smiled a bit bitterly.
“In a way…. I guess it is.” He murmured. “But there is still so much conflict. It will be a long time before everything settles down. Still, I am confident that things will be better now that we all work towards a common goal.”
The former Decepticon grinned broadly, making the dockworker shake his/her head and scuttle off. Drift snickered to himself. Apparently his sunny disposition affected aliens the same way it did other Autobots. He turned to grin at Ratchet, who trusted no one with new medical supplies, and earned a disapproving look for his effort. “I thought we were trying to not upset the natives.” The medic groused.
The swordsmech shrugged, “I answered his question. All he’ll have to say is that we’re much too happy now. Well I am, what about you, you have new hands?”
Ratchet flinched slightly, making Drift immediately regret his words. “I’m sorry Ratchet; I didn’t realize that it bothered you.”
The medic grunted. “It’s nothing really. Now then, I’ll oversee the medical supplies, so you’re free to go get the ingredients Swerve asked for.” Drift nodded and grinned faintly.
“If I’m not back in a cycle, I’m pretty sure Perceptor has a tracker node hidden in my armour.”
Ratchet snorted. “Smart of him,” He made a shooing motion with his new hands. “Well? Get going, we don’t have time to waste.”
“We’ll be here a week,” Drift laughed, obediently going his own way, walking down the street. He passed a cloaked figured, and noted yellow-gold eyes gleaming from under the obscuring hood. He looked pointedly at this being so it knew that he’d marked them. It blinked at him once.
Drift frowned and turned his attention away from the being, though his audials were pricked for the sound of footsteps behind him, just in case. Something about that person bothered him, but he wasn’t sure why. Pushing the being out of his mind for the moment- it was probably just curious about the Cybertronian ship anyways, practically every person in the colony had come to see them at some point-and focused on the special supplies he needed to find.
He found a small shop that catered to mechanical life forms and spent some time browsing, surprised to find Cybertronian art on one of the shelves. When he asked where it came from, the shopkeeper shrugged.
“Some person came and traded them. Was looking for supplies of specific kinds. Was here earlier, thought they were with you.” Drift shook his head.
“Another Cybertronian? We didn’t have anything like this on our ship…” Drift examined a beautiful orrery of Cybertron’s solar system. It was ancient in design, though rather new in build. A small mystery he was tempted to buy.
“Dunno, didn’t take off the cloak.” Muttered the shopkeeper. Drift straightened, thinking of the silent figure who watched him leave the shadow of the Lost Light. A lone Cybertronian would be wise to stay secretive on this colony…
“Thank you,” Drift smiled, paying for the supplies he’d been asked to get, shooting the orrery one last look, before turning to leave the store, carrying the bundle of supplies under his left arm, leaving his right free, just in case.
On the way back to the ship, Drift cut through an alley, then found himself stymied, realizing the ally split in two different directions, neither of which went the way he wanted. He huffed and glanced down the left route, when he hear the whisper of a blade being drawn and grabbed for his own sword, about to whip around, but whomever was behind him was shockingly fast, and a sword slipped under the Autobot’s guard, pressing against his throat sharply. Strangely though, it was the blunt edge of the blade touching him, and not the cutting edge.
Drift felt his temper flare up; this… thing had bested him so easily. It was infuriating, and his hands twitched angrily towards his blades. The being behind him let out a soft chuckle. “You’ve slipped, Decepticon.”
Drift relaxed slightly, realizing he recognized the voice. “Hello Lance,” He commented, still miffed as the sword whisked away from his throat. He turned to face the cloaked figure, the optics gleaming with amusement. “And I’m an Autobot now.”
Sword sheathed, the robed mech lifted his hood slightly, letting Drift see the face beneath, so alike to Wing’s in form, but the stern expression Lance wore was a sharp contrast to the gentle curving of lips that graced Wing’s features. Drift felt a sudden, painful jab in his spark, momentarily seeing Wing’s face. He blinked a couple times. This was Lance. Wing’s brother. Nearly identical in form but… Drift quirked his lips faintly and offered Lance his hand.
Lance looked at the hands, then back up at Drift and slowly shook. The Autobot had always been surprised at how different Wing and his brother were, especially considering someone had apparently made the effort to make them look nearly identical. Perhaps the Circle of Light’s engineers had a sense of humour after all, though it’d be the first time Drift heard of such a thing. “What brings you all here?”
“Supplies,” Drift replied. “And you, what are you doing here, even Wing never left the planet!”
Lance shrugged. “Same as you, we needed some raw materials we couldn’t get on our planet. But I mean… why are you away from Cybertron?”
“Oh! Well…” Drift smiled broadly. “We’re looking for you, actually. Since the wars over, Cybertron needs rebuilding and well… you Knights made a paradise. Some pointers would be helpful.”
Lance frowned deeply. “Dai Atlas sent some Knights to see how Cybertron was. It is just another warzone, Autobots enslaving Decepticons, Neutrals warring against non-military law, claiming it to be Autobot suppression... I would call it a second hell.”
Drift’s face fell. “It’s that bad?” He lowered his optics, disheartened. Lance nodded grimly.
“I’m afraid so,” The Knight dimmed his optics. “They report that that… Prowl… has become rather controlling of late.”
The Autobot shook his head. “Prowl? No, I never liked him, but he’s logic driven, he wouldn’t want to-“
“He has,” Lance cut him off. “Perhaps he has been overstressed, but it is still a fact.”
Drift set his jaw. “Then we really need your help. You Knights are neutrals, your guidance… it’d help restore Cybertron.”
“Why are you so sure of that, we are just mechs.” Lance grunted.
“Well you all managed to change me,” Drift commented, wry. Lance snorted.
“True.” The Knight crouched by a wall. “Well, I suppose you have a story to tell me to try and convince me to bring your case before the circle.”
Drift nodded, and launched into an explanation of how half the matrix shell had been given to Rodimus, how they were looking for the Circle of Light. He explained everything that had happened, including the accident with the engines, the sparkeater, Delphi. Lance listened intently, nodding now and then, until Drift finally ran out of things to say. The Knight crossed his arms, thinking.
“I cannot promise you anything,” Lance finally said. “I’ll contact the Circle and tell them what you said to me. Though it may take a while to make a decision…”
Drift nodded. “We’re here a week, I might be able to stall too.”
Lance nodded. “We’ll see. I’ll find you again when I have an answer.”
“Thanks,” Drift smiled at the jet, bowing his head politely as Lance pulled his hood back over his face. The Knight lightly touched Drift’s shoulder before moving on, gloved hands folded behind his back. Drift sighed, dropping his head, a mix of emotions running through him. He stood in the alley, lost in thought, thinking back on his time in Crystal City until a ping over his comms startled him out of his reverie.
//Drift//Rodimus’ voice was a touch concerned. //Ratchet said to check on you if you were gone more than a cycle, it’s been four.//
Drift started guiltily. “I’m fine Rodimus I was just… distracted.”
//As long as nothing’s wrong.// Rodimus said.
“I’ll be right back,” Drift assured, before cutting the comm. He leaned on the wall to gather his thoughts, and then set off for the Lost Light. After all this, serendipity had put the Knights before him again. It was a good sign. He made his way back to the Lost Light, and made for the bar, looking for Swerve, He nodded to Fortress Maximus, who looked rather sallow. The Ex-warden returned the gesture, keeping in direction for the munitions stores, and there, likely Rung’s office. Well, Maximus certainly needed someone like Rung right now… Drift’s lip twitched slightly, remembering Perceptor’s retelling of Garrus-9. Yes, Rung was definitely where Maximus needed to me.
Drift peeked into the closed bar and chuckled at the sight of Swerve lounging behind the bar. The small mech sat up with a grin. “Drift, pal, buddy, didja get my supplies?”
Nodding, the swordsmech set the box on the bar and watched Swerve inspect the contents. Satisfied with Drift’s purchase, Swerve paid the swordsmech for the purchase and poured him a drink. “So how’s the colony?”
“Busy,” Drift sipped at the drink, enjoying the rich flavour. “Many different species, I even saw a neutral Cybertronian.”
“Seriously, a NAIL all the way out here?” Swerve laughed. “That’s neat.”
“Neutral,” Drift corrected. “NAIL seems to be the term for the ones being nasty. This one was very polite.” He thought back on his encounter with Lance. Yes, compared to the last time he and Lance had spoken alone, that was a peacetalk. Swerve shrugged with a chuckle. “Whatever you say bud. So didja hear about what our new medics got up to earlier?”
Drift chuckled, slowly downing his drink and letting Swerve fill him in on the local gossip. It had been an odd day, but one full of promise.
.
This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth, http://tv-the-sue.dreamwidth.org/ Please comment wherever the hell you feel like.
Just so you know who Lance is, in regards to this story: http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m67io0B4ZB1r0sq8j.jpg He’s Wings brother here, and was rather distrusting of the Decepticon his brother brought back. I’ll probably end up writing some stuff for that too.
Coming Home Chapter 1-A Chance encounter
Drift checked the datapad in his hand for the tenth time, despite knowing exactly what was on it. He was uneasy, stopping at an alien port for supplies, even though it was essential, was risky. Other species weren’t very fond of Cybertronians, and it was best not to linger. Even Rodimus had agreed that only those who had to help with the resupply run should go out. The less risk of inciting the locals, the better; Even so, the native organic and semisynthetic species were watching all of them very carefully.
Of course, the “Crusadercons” were watching the locals back with similar intensity. No one wanted much more trouble, not after Delphi.
Delphi. Drift shuddered at the fresh memories of that place, mingled with a lingering fear of the DJD; he’d blustered on when Ratchet asked if he was afraid of the DJD. But in reality, he was terrified of what they’d do to him. He would rather run himself through the chest with a sword again. Drift shook his head. He had work to do; now was not the time to get lost in his mind. He looked over the order forms handed to him by a dock worker to ensure that they were in order, and nodded. “Thank you.”
The dockworker took the forms and fidgeted a moment, Drift tilted his head. “Is there something else?”
The alien shrugged. “Rumour says your war is over Cybertronian.” Drift smiled a bit bitterly.
“In a way…. I guess it is.” He murmured. “But there is still so much conflict. It will be a long time before everything settles down. Still, I am confident that things will be better now that we all work towards a common goal.”
The former Decepticon grinned broadly, making the dockworker shake his/her head and scuttle off. Drift snickered to himself. Apparently his sunny disposition affected aliens the same way it did other Autobots. He turned to grin at Ratchet, who trusted no one with new medical supplies, and earned a disapproving look for his effort. “I thought we were trying to not upset the natives.” The medic groused.
The swordsmech shrugged, “I answered his question. All he’ll have to say is that we’re much too happy now. Well I am, what about you, you have new hands?”
Ratchet flinched slightly, making Drift immediately regret his words. “I’m sorry Ratchet; I didn’t realize that it bothered you.”
The medic grunted. “It’s nothing really. Now then, I’ll oversee the medical supplies, so you’re free to go get the ingredients Swerve asked for.” Drift nodded and grinned faintly.
“If I’m not back in a cycle, I’m pretty sure Perceptor has a tracker node hidden in my armour.”
Ratchet snorted. “Smart of him,” He made a shooing motion with his new hands. “Well? Get going, we don’t have time to waste.”
“We’ll be here a week,” Drift laughed, obediently going his own way, walking down the street. He passed a cloaked figured, and noted yellow-gold eyes gleaming from under the obscuring hood. He looked pointedly at this being so it knew that he’d marked them. It blinked at him once.
Drift frowned and turned his attention away from the being, though his audials were pricked for the sound of footsteps behind him, just in case. Something about that person bothered him, but he wasn’t sure why. Pushing the being out of his mind for the moment- it was probably just curious about the Cybertronian ship anyways, practically every person in the colony had come to see them at some point-and focused on the special supplies he needed to find.
He found a small shop that catered to mechanical life forms and spent some time browsing, surprised to find Cybertronian art on one of the shelves. When he asked where it came from, the shopkeeper shrugged.
“Some person came and traded them. Was looking for supplies of specific kinds. Was here earlier, thought they were with you.” Drift shook his head.
“Another Cybertronian? We didn’t have anything like this on our ship…” Drift examined a beautiful orrery of Cybertron’s solar system. It was ancient in design, though rather new in build. A small mystery he was tempted to buy.
“Dunno, didn’t take off the cloak.” Muttered the shopkeeper. Drift straightened, thinking of the silent figure who watched him leave the shadow of the Lost Light. A lone Cybertronian would be wise to stay secretive on this colony…
“Thank you,” Drift smiled, paying for the supplies he’d been asked to get, shooting the orrery one last look, before turning to leave the store, carrying the bundle of supplies under his left arm, leaving his right free, just in case.
On the way back to the ship, Drift cut through an alley, then found himself stymied, realizing the ally split in two different directions, neither of which went the way he wanted. He huffed and glanced down the left route, when he hear the whisper of a blade being drawn and grabbed for his own sword, about to whip around, but whomever was behind him was shockingly fast, and a sword slipped under the Autobot’s guard, pressing against his throat sharply. Strangely though, it was the blunt edge of the blade touching him, and not the cutting edge.
Drift felt his temper flare up; this… thing had bested him so easily. It was infuriating, and his hands twitched angrily towards his blades. The being behind him let out a soft chuckle. “You’ve slipped, Decepticon.”
Drift relaxed slightly, realizing he recognized the voice. “Hello Lance,” He commented, still miffed as the sword whisked away from his throat. He turned to face the cloaked figure, the optics gleaming with amusement. “And I’m an Autobot now.”
Sword sheathed, the robed mech lifted his hood slightly, letting Drift see the face beneath, so alike to Wing’s in form, but the stern expression Lance wore was a sharp contrast to the gentle curving of lips that graced Wing’s features. Drift felt a sudden, painful jab in his spark, momentarily seeing Wing’s face. He blinked a couple times. This was Lance. Wing’s brother. Nearly identical in form but… Drift quirked his lips faintly and offered Lance his hand.
Lance looked at the hands, then back up at Drift and slowly shook. The Autobot had always been surprised at how different Wing and his brother were, especially considering someone had apparently made the effort to make them look nearly identical. Perhaps the Circle of Light’s engineers had a sense of humour after all, though it’d be the first time Drift heard of such a thing. “What brings you all here?”
“Supplies,” Drift replied. “And you, what are you doing here, even Wing never left the planet!”
Lance shrugged. “Same as you, we needed some raw materials we couldn’t get on our planet. But I mean… why are you away from Cybertron?”
“Oh! Well…” Drift smiled broadly. “We’re looking for you, actually. Since the wars over, Cybertron needs rebuilding and well… you Knights made a paradise. Some pointers would be helpful.”
Lance frowned deeply. “Dai Atlas sent some Knights to see how Cybertron was. It is just another warzone, Autobots enslaving Decepticons, Neutrals warring against non-military law, claiming it to be Autobot suppression... I would call it a second hell.”
Drift’s face fell. “It’s that bad?” He lowered his optics, disheartened. Lance nodded grimly.
“I’m afraid so,” The Knight dimmed his optics. “They report that that… Prowl… has become rather controlling of late.”
The Autobot shook his head. “Prowl? No, I never liked him, but he’s logic driven, he wouldn’t want to-“
“He has,” Lance cut him off. “Perhaps he has been overstressed, but it is still a fact.”
Drift set his jaw. “Then we really need your help. You Knights are neutrals, your guidance… it’d help restore Cybertron.”
“Why are you so sure of that, we are just mechs.” Lance grunted.
“Well you all managed to change me,” Drift commented, wry. Lance snorted.
“True.” The Knight crouched by a wall. “Well, I suppose you have a story to tell me to try and convince me to bring your case before the circle.”
Drift nodded, and launched into an explanation of how half the matrix shell had been given to Rodimus, how they were looking for the Circle of Light. He explained everything that had happened, including the accident with the engines, the sparkeater, Delphi. Lance listened intently, nodding now and then, until Drift finally ran out of things to say. The Knight crossed his arms, thinking.
“I cannot promise you anything,” Lance finally said. “I’ll contact the Circle and tell them what you said to me. Though it may take a while to make a decision…”
Drift nodded. “We’re here a week, I might be able to stall too.”
Lance nodded. “We’ll see. I’ll find you again when I have an answer.”
“Thanks,” Drift smiled at the jet, bowing his head politely as Lance pulled his hood back over his face. The Knight lightly touched Drift’s shoulder before moving on, gloved hands folded behind his back. Drift sighed, dropping his head, a mix of emotions running through him. He stood in the alley, lost in thought, thinking back on his time in Crystal City until a ping over his comms startled him out of his reverie.
//Drift//Rodimus’ voice was a touch concerned. //Ratchet said to check on you if you were gone more than a cycle, it’s been four.//
Drift started guiltily. “I’m fine Rodimus I was just… distracted.”
//As long as nothing’s wrong.// Rodimus said.
“I’ll be right back,” Drift assured, before cutting the comm. He leaned on the wall to gather his thoughts, and then set off for the Lost Light. After all this, serendipity had put the Knights before him again. It was a good sign. He made his way back to the Lost Light, and made for the bar, looking for Swerve, He nodded to Fortress Maximus, who looked rather sallow. The Ex-warden returned the gesture, keeping in direction for the munitions stores, and there, likely Rung’s office. Well, Maximus certainly needed someone like Rung right now… Drift’s lip twitched slightly, remembering Perceptor’s retelling of Garrus-9. Yes, Rung was definitely where Maximus needed to me.
Drift peeked into the closed bar and chuckled at the sight of Swerve lounging behind the bar. The small mech sat up with a grin. “Drift, pal, buddy, didja get my supplies?”
Nodding, the swordsmech set the box on the bar and watched Swerve inspect the contents. Satisfied with Drift’s purchase, Swerve paid the swordsmech for the purchase and poured him a drink. “So how’s the colony?”
“Busy,” Drift sipped at the drink, enjoying the rich flavour. “Many different species, I even saw a neutral Cybertronian.”
“Seriously, a NAIL all the way out here?” Swerve laughed. “That’s neat.”
“Neutral,” Drift corrected. “NAIL seems to be the term for the ones being nasty. This one was very polite.” He thought back on his encounter with Lance. Yes, compared to the last time he and Lance had spoken alone, that was a peacetalk. Swerve shrugged with a chuckle. “Whatever you say bud. So didja hear about what our new medics got up to earlier?”
Drift chuckled, slowly downing his drink and letting Swerve fill him in on the local gossip. It had been an odd day, but one full of promise.
.
This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth, http://tv-the-sue.dreamwidth.org/ Please comment wherever the hell you feel like.