Vivid Memories
TFA Lockdown
ooc: warning, spoiler for TFA season 3. The quote is taken from the episode Five Servos of Doom. I've bashed my brains over canon to try and make this a believable, in character story but there are a lot creative liberties taken. Hugs to antepathy and wicked3659 for the beta love. ^_^
Alone in the Death's Head, he sits at his control console. Slumped, still and thoughtful as he accesses an old journal entry, a spoken one. The memory of it made vivid after his recent conversation with Prowl.
This particular entry is unique. One intended to be made public, like a memoir, but only after his spark is extinguished. He won't let the story die with him. But for the time being, it's his memory and his alone; not to be shared with anyone as long as he functioned. Wouldn't change public opinion of him anyway. There was no justifiable cause behind his actions. No honorable excuse for his decision.
My first job wasn't the typical bounty.
Weren’t after a single bot, rather an army of unborn ones. Protoforms.
I had just “acquired” my lovely IG-2000 back then, destined to be transformed into the Death’s Head. One a’the perks of workin’ for a chopshop in Kaon: Boss let’s ya help yourself to the pickins from time to time. Took all my saved earnings just to get her runnin’. Even then she wasn’t much to look at, hardly a worthy ship for the lifestyle I was gearin’ up for. Only a shell of what she is today. I needed credits to pimp her out. A LOT of credits. Get her up to par. Bot’s a deadmech if he goes into the profession without an armed, stealthy and mobile base to operate from.
Anyhow, saw this job posted in the underground circuits, calling for a team of those practiced in sleight-of-servo. It was a heist. A snatch job for Megatron himself. Big Guns was selectively lookin’ for Autobot military that’d switched sides or gone neutral; bots that knew a thing or two about EG security. He wanted the protoform stash. The ones they set aside as fodder for makin’ a massive army, just in case Project Omega fell through.
Kinda a lousy fate for a bot if ya ask me. Sparked to life just so you can fight for a cause they shove down your throat. Never once given a chance to decide on your own. I had no qualms takin’ the job. Figured those protoforms were damned no matter whose control they were under. War was pointless, wasteful. I had given up carin’ about it long ago. Saw it for nothin’ more than the lucrative avenues it opened up. Megatron was offerin’ some hefty credits and sweet upgrades to get what he wanted and I wasn’t about to turn that offer down.
I not only took the job but was elected mission leader. I had the knowledge we needed. Knew where the stash was and how to get to it.
Knew who it was guarded by.
Was supposed to be the old mech’s night off. The one solar of the week he trusted a pair of his top students to guard the chamber. Hardly a challenge. Easily knocked cold and left with no more than an aching processor when they woke. That was the plan at least. A robbery not a slaughter.
Going toe to toe with a Cyber Ninja Master wasn’t somethin’ we bargained on.
I was the last one to enter the fortress, letting the others go ahead while I jammed the area’s surveillance. Didn't suspect the change in the Ninja Corps's guard routine until I heard the fight break out . By the time I got there it was too late. The battle was in full swing, a few of my accomplices already sportin’ what would be permanent and debilitating injuries. Master was a force to be reckoned with. No bot off the street could take him down.
No single bot that is.
I was the one that tipped the scales. Nowhere near his skill level but skilled enough. Coulda gone either way at that point. Coulda teamed up with Yoketron and taken them all out. Nipped the catastrophe in the bud.
But every mech knows you don’t back out on a job for Megatron.
I made my choice and it was me that delivered the final blow. I shattered his spark chamber. One swift kick. Not even blocked. Just a look. Never forget that look…the one that accepted me as his death-bringer. Swear he was almost smiling. He knew. Master knew it was his time. Knew when he was outnumbered. Knew I wasn’t gonna let him go down at the hands of some nobody scum. Better that it was me. Familiar scum.
I was the last one left in the fortress, our mission near-complete, ship loaded to capacity with protoforms. Just needed to erase evidence that pointed to us, shell casings, paint scuffs. I went about my task trying to block out the wavering hum of a dying spark, trying not to look at him. Was the longest post-heist clean-up of my functioning. One of many vivid memories. It wasn’t until I was nearly out the door that he finally spoke, his voice eerily strong and clairvoyant.
“I know exactly what your spark desires, Lockdown.” Those were his exact words.
I was at his side in a sparkbeat. My actions driven by instinct. My guilt palpable. I had nothing to say but he had one final instruction for this student.
“Take my helmet...Do not forget.”
ooc. This is an open thread and the hunter's comm and ship's door are open for company. However the above story is not public knowledge unless there's a super hacker out there than can access his personal logs. I realize that's not impossible to fathom but message me first if your technically-inclined character wants to venture down that road. I don't guarantee a happy hunter waiting at the end. =P
His mood is social enough to accommodate the casual visitor. He won't try to take anyone's mods...not today at least. ^_~
ooc: warning, spoiler for TFA season 3. The quote is taken from the episode Five Servos of Doom. I've bashed my brains over canon to try and make this a believable, in character story but there are a lot creative liberties taken. Hugs to antepathy and wicked3659 for the beta love. ^_^
Alone in the Death's Head, he sits at his control console. Slumped, still and thoughtful as he accesses an old journal entry, a spoken one. The memory of it made vivid after his recent conversation with Prowl.
This particular entry is unique. One intended to be made public, like a memoir, but only after his spark is extinguished. He won't let the story die with him. But for the time being, it's his memory and his alone; not to be shared with anyone as long as he functioned. Wouldn't change public opinion of him anyway. There was no justifiable cause behind his actions. No honorable excuse for his decision.
My first job wasn't the typical bounty.
Weren’t after a single bot, rather an army of unborn ones. Protoforms.
I had just “acquired” my lovely IG-2000 back then, destined to be transformed into the Death’s Head. One a’the perks of workin’ for a chopshop in Kaon: Boss let’s ya help yourself to the pickins from time to time. Took all my saved earnings just to get her runnin’. Even then she wasn’t much to look at, hardly a worthy ship for the lifestyle I was gearin’ up for. Only a shell of what she is today. I needed credits to pimp her out. A LOT of credits. Get her up to par. Bot’s a deadmech if he goes into the profession without an armed, stealthy and mobile base to operate from.
Anyhow, saw this job posted in the underground circuits, calling for a team of those practiced in sleight-of-servo. It was a heist. A snatch job for Megatron himself. Big Guns was selectively lookin’ for Autobot military that’d switched sides or gone neutral; bots that knew a thing or two about EG security. He wanted the protoform stash. The ones they set aside as fodder for makin’ a massive army, just in case Project Omega fell through.
Kinda a lousy fate for a bot if ya ask me. Sparked to life just so you can fight for a cause they shove down your throat. Never once given a chance to decide on your own. I had no qualms takin’ the job. Figured those protoforms were damned no matter whose control they were under. War was pointless, wasteful. I had given up carin’ about it long ago. Saw it for nothin’ more than the lucrative avenues it opened up. Megatron was offerin’ some hefty credits and sweet upgrades to get what he wanted and I wasn’t about to turn that offer down.
I not only took the job but was elected mission leader. I had the knowledge we needed. Knew where the stash was and how to get to it.
Knew who it was guarded by.
Was supposed to be the old mech’s night off. The one solar of the week he trusted a pair of his top students to guard the chamber. Hardly a challenge. Easily knocked cold and left with no more than an aching processor when they woke. That was the plan at least. A robbery not a slaughter.
Going toe to toe with a Cyber Ninja Master wasn’t somethin’ we bargained on.
I was the last one to enter the fortress, letting the others go ahead while I jammed the area’s surveillance. Didn't suspect the change in the Ninja Corps's guard routine until I heard the fight break out . By the time I got there it was too late. The battle was in full swing, a few of my accomplices already sportin’ what would be permanent and debilitating injuries. Master was a force to be reckoned with. No bot off the street could take him down.
No single bot that is.
I was the one that tipped the scales. Nowhere near his skill level but skilled enough. Coulda gone either way at that point. Coulda teamed up with Yoketron and taken them all out. Nipped the catastrophe in the bud.
But every mech knows you don’t back out on a job for Megatron.
I made my choice and it was me that delivered the final blow. I shattered his spark chamber. One swift kick. Not even blocked. Just a look. Never forget that look…the one that accepted me as his death-bringer. Swear he was almost smiling. He knew. Master knew it was his time. Knew when he was outnumbered. Knew I wasn’t gonna let him go down at the hands of some nobody scum. Better that it was me. Familiar scum.
I was the last one left in the fortress, our mission near-complete, ship loaded to capacity with protoforms. Just needed to erase evidence that pointed to us, shell casings, paint scuffs. I went about my task trying to block out the wavering hum of a dying spark, trying not to look at him. Was the longest post-heist clean-up of my functioning. One of many vivid memories. It wasn’t until I was nearly out the door that he finally spoke, his voice eerily strong and clairvoyant.
“I know exactly what your spark desires, Lockdown.” Those were his exact words.
I was at his side in a sparkbeat. My actions driven by instinct. My guilt palpable. I had nothing to say but he had one final instruction for this student.
“Take my helmet...Do not forget.”
ooc. This is an open thread and the hunter's comm and ship's door are open for company. However the above story is not public knowledge unless there's a super hacker out there than can access his personal logs. I realize that's not impossible to fathom but message me first if your technically-inclined character wants to venture down that road. I don't guarantee a happy hunter waiting at the end. =P
His mood is social enough to accommodate the casual visitor. He won't try to take anyone's mods...not today at least. ^_~