TF (OC): Searchin’
Rating: PG13
Series: G1
Summary: This is the back-story for my OC Tracer. As the team recover from the attack on their base, the realisation that they won’t be able to continue as a team settles on them. And relaxation comes with Double Trouble otherwise known as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe making an appearance
Warnings: None really… a few bad words… but nothing you haven’t heard before
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten… Tracer belongs to me… as do Kicker and Rollback
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Searchin' Part One
Searchin' Part Two
Searchin' Part Three
Searchin' Part Four
Searchin' Part Five
Searchin' Part Six
When her optics came back online, she immediately registered the silver color in front of her optics. She could feel nothing and could only see what she presumed was straight ahead of her. Every sensor seemed to be offline and the sights she could see and the sounds she could hear didn’t seem to make any sense.
“Don’t move now. We’ve turned your internal sensors off while everything is rebuilt.” Rebuilt?
“Re…ilt?” She managed to vocalise, taken by surprise at the scratchiness of her vocaliser. She accessed her memory banks trying to find out what had happened. Then in a flood of data, she remembered. The darkness, the fire, the shots, the cries, the metal falling, the screams, the laughter, the silence.
“Take it easy… slag it all!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The silver was still there when her optics rebooted. Simple sensors were now back online and she could detect a presence at her side. Scanning the energy signature she tried to sit up.
“Stay right there kid.” Inferno laid a hand on her shoulder, keeping her immobile on the repair berth. “Ratchet, she’s back online.”
“Good. Don’t let her sit up or do anything. I’ll be right there.”
“’Ferno?”
“Right here kid. Ain’t going nowhere either.” Memories filtered through her processor.
“They got the energon didn’t they?” She asked, already knowing the answer.
“They did. But you all sure put up one helluva fight.” Images jumped in front of her optics and she tried to prioritise the questions she wanted to ask.
“The others?”
“All here and still functioning.”
“Good.”
“Half the Decepticons ain’t though.”
“How many were there?”
“In all? Twelve. You lot took out seven before the base collapsed.”
“Wow.”
“I’ll say. Didn’t think there would be any of you left, but Rollback swore he could detect energy signatures under all that mess.”
“Glad he’s got better sensors than you.” Tracer quipped, smiling at Inferno.
“I’d take offence at that if it weren’t true.” Inferno smiled, patting Tracer gently on the shoulder before moving out of the way to allow Ratchet to begin his examination.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Why do we always end up with the same dorm.?”
“How can you tell it’s the same one Kicker? They all look alike to me.”
“Says the master tracker…”
“Location kid… and the fact that I carved my name above this berth.”
“You shouldn’t have done that Kicker.”
“What you gonna do Red? Report me?”
“… No…”
“Well then. Besides, I know you etched your names on the wall in one of the supply rooms.” Kicker lingered on the word ‘names’, shooting meaningful glances at Inferno and Firestar. Firestar ducked her head and Inferno just smiled back lazily.
“He’s just jealous Red.”
“Am not.”
“Are too!”
“Primus, please… can I not recharge in peace?” Rollback sat straight up, levelling them all with a glare. Apologies given, he settled back down on his berth. Tracer climbed up beside him and settled back against him.
“What are we going to do now?”
“The Council of Elders is not going to approve a new base at this time, so we will no doubt be reassigned to different units.”
“What? That just sucks tailpipe. They can’t split us up.”
“They can and they probably will. The resources are not available to keep the Search and Rescue teams operational. The war has moved away from the battleground and on to the hunt for energy.”
“You’re thinking of volunteering aren’t you?” Rollback spoke up, not even bothering to online his optics.
“I am, yes.”
“What? Red… you can’t be serious?” Firestar sounded surprised and Tracer nudged Rollback.
“I need to stretch my legs.” She announced, looking straight at Kicker.
“Huh?”
“Come on… little cybercat needs protecting remember?” She said, hopping down from Rollback’s berth, ignoring his snort as he sat up and standing in front of Kicker.
Once outside the door, Tracer vented a sigh.
“Diplomatic kid, real diplomatic.”
“Hey, do you want to be around while they argue?”
“Trace is right Kicker. There are some things we just don’t need to hear. That being one of them.” Rollback pointed a thumb back at the dorm. room. “What now?”
“I guess we wander around until they argue themselves into an interface and it’s safe to go back.”
“Sweet Primus. Kicker, I did so not need that image!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As it turned out, Rollback, Kicker and Tracer didn’t make it back to their dorm. Instead, they found themselves in Maccadam’s Old Oil House. Since the war had started, Maccadam’s had become a retreat for many; a place where factions didn’t matter and fighting was strictly against the rules. Now, there were few clientele that dared to come in to enjoy what little high-grade there was left. Against all odds, there had been only Autobots in that evening, so the atmosphere was more relaxed. Settling themselves down at a table, Rollback ordered some high-grade and they prepared to spend the evening enjoying themselves and trying to ignore that their team was about to be broken up. Tracer found herself watching the others in the establishment while they were waiting for the energon to be delivered to their table. Beside her, Kicker waved to a group of mechs that had just entered.
“Sideswipe, over here!” He called out.
“Oh Primus.” Rollback muttered. “It’s the Twins.” Tracer looked up to see two large solidly built mechs walking over to their table.
“Twins?”
“Warriors. Vicious both on and off the battlefield by all accounts.” Rollback explained, shaking his head. “Figures that aft-head would know them.” He nodded at Kicker who was still engrossed in gaining the Twins’ attention.
“Hey guys, grab a seat.” The two mechs sat down; the red one with a smile, the yellow one with a glare. “Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, lemme introduce to some of the team. Rollback, our medic.” Rollback smiled warily at the Twins. “And this is our tracker, Tracer.”
“Pleasure.” Drawled the red one. “I’m Sideswipe and the grumpy one here is Sunstreaker.”
“Frag off.”
“What did I tell you?”
“What brings you two here?”
“We’re getting a transfer. Off the battlefield and into space. Prime wanted us on this mission of his.” Sideswipe explained. Sunstreaker simply sat there, staring moodily into his cube of high-grade.
“You too eh?”
“What?”
“Our team’s gonna be split up and Red wants in on that mission.”
“You’re on that paranoid little freak’s team?” Sunstreaker’s voice was anything but amused. Tracer found herself defending Red Alert before her processor even realised she’d vocalised.
“Take that back you glitch of a Pit spawn!” Silence descended on the table and her processor caught up with her, reminding her that it wasn’t necessarily the best idea to insult two of Cybertron’s most vicious warriors. “… uh, please?” She added, sinking slightly in her seat. If looks could kill, she would have been deactivated and disassembled for spare parts with the glare Sunstreaker turned on her. Sideswipe just laughed.
“Trace… did your logic circuits just fail?” Rollback hissed at her, not daring to take his optics off the Twins.
“Kid’s got some nerve. I like that.” Sideswipe practically leered at Tracer.
“Heh, that’s an understatement.” Kicker laughed. “Besides, even if she did insult ol’ Sunstreaker over there, she’s more than fast enough to get away before he could scrap her.”
“Faster than us? Sounds like a challenge.” Sideswipe grinned, leaning across the table. “You as fast as he says?”
“She’s faster than you all right, I’d bet a quart of high-grade on it.”
“A quart?” Sunstreaker entered the conversation, vocaliser cold and haughty.
“Yup.” Kicker nodded. “She can beat both your afts in a race.”
“Kicker!” Tracer wasn’t sure if she or Rollback hissed louder, but he stopped and stared at both of them, offering a small shrug and a smile before turning back to the Twins.
“I can’t believe he’s using me to win a bet.” She muttered.
“Believe it Trace, this is Kicker after all.”
“True.” She sipped the rest of her high-grade while she listened to the three of them make plans on where to hold the race. “I really don’t have much choice in this do I?”
“Nope.”
“Slag... I hope he’s right.”
“So do I. I doubt Ratchet would be pleased to put you back together after they’re through with you.”
“They wouldn’t?”
“Trace, there’s a reason why they’re Cybertron’s best warriors… they’re psychotic.”
“Okay kid, come on.” Tracer and Rollback were interrupted from their quiet conversation by Kicker standing up and virtually pulling Tracer out of the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kicker was practically crowing with delight, bouncing around as though he were a sparkling again.
“Kicker, if you don’t stop that, I swear to Primus I will disconnect your motor functions.” Rollback didn’t look up from where he was hastily patching up a coolant leak in Tracer’s side.
“But the kid won. She won. She beat the Twins!”
“What else did you expect?” Tracer managed to squeeze out.
“Well… I knew you were fast kid, but those two have… had… the record for that course!”
“You’re just lucky she only tore a coolant line going that fast. Especially after what you’ve just been through.”
“Rollback, it’s fine.”
“Don’t ‘it’s fine’ me Trace. I’m the one that’s fixing up the damage and I say it ain’t fine. You’ve just got to hope Red doesn’t hear about this.”
“Well it wasn’t my idea!”
“Yeah, but the kid was defending Red.”
“Whatever. That’s it. You’re done Trace.”
“Thanks.” Tracer accepted the hand Rollback offered, the race having taken up most of her remaining energy reserves. “I honestly thought Sunstreaker was going to slag me…”
“I think he was. Just be glad that Sideswipe thinks you’re cute.” Kicker replied, slapping Tracer on the back.
“Oh Primus…” She groaned. “Can we just get back to the dorm. before I go into stasis? And don’t even think of carrying me!” She added.
“Can’t blame me for wanting to help our champion.”
“Kicker?”
“Yeah kid?”
“Shut the frag up.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part Eight