Sam - Alright. Before you read this, I have things to say.

1 Orginisation 13 does NOT belong to me! The whole Project is my friends! I just write them for him! .

2 Nightshift also ISN'T MINE!! Once again, he belongs to my friend! If he was mine do you really think I'd let him do this?!

I could've said all of that in the Disclaimer, but we all know what they say so I'll say them now... I do not own Transformers... otherwise I'd be a happy bunny... ugh.. bunnies... ¬.¬


Designation - Airstrike

Designation - Sky Shadow

Designation - Unknown

-Commence Memory File Playback-


Striked

"Go on Striker!"

Bullet smiled, watching the rolling cameras as they focused on the jet in first place. The silver subaru took his place at a layby, picking up some tools and placing them out ready. The race was almost over and he needed to be ready to repair his friend as he crossed the line.

Outside, a black jet sped towards the hovering white line in space, only visible by the red stripes on it's wing tips and its dark grey turbines. Two blue insignias shone on the top of the wings as it sped past the finish line. The crowed cheered as the winner powered down, coming to an abrupt stop as the other jets and helicopters joined him over the line.

In the second line of the crowd, another black form watched on, eyeing up the finished contenders. It scanned them all one at a time, searching for their strenghs and weaknesses. Finally, the form stopped on the winning black jet. Once its scan was complete, the figure backed out of the crowd, disappearing into the shadows behind them. The crowd burst into cheer as the first jet transformed, chanting his name repeatidly.

"Airstrike! Airstrike! Airstrike! Airstrike!"

"They're singing my song..." Airstrike smiled, taking a bow as his smaller silver friend joined him. This is where he loved to be. The winner of a championship and with his best friend. Bullet clapped his friend on the back.

"Ya creamed them!"

"Well duh!" Airstrike crossed his arms over his cockpit "What did you expect me to cross the line in? Second?"

"Lets hear it for the winner and champion for the third year in a row, Airstrike!" The crowed cheered again and the jet held up his hands to the crowd, waving at everyone.


Hours passed. The crowd had dispirsed and the other opponants had left. Airstrike took one last look at the now abandoned area. His attention shifted to a form, standing in the shadows of one of the seating areas. The figure scowled at him, leaning against the wall of the area. Airstrike blinked, and the form was gone. He looked around, only to find himself alone. Shaking his head and deeming it a trick on his memory core, he turned, returning to his designated pit area.

"Another one bites the dust ey Strike?"

"Hmm?" Airstrike turned, seeing Bullet all packed and ready to go "Oh.. yeah. If you wanna go I'll erm.. catch you up I wanna check something out"

Bullet looked at his friend confused "Yeah sure... Meet me in the Nebulos Asteroid Belt in a few breems?"

Airstrike smiled and nodded. Bullet took one last look at his friend then left the room. He could take care of himself.

"Later Striker!"

"Later..."

As soon as he knew he was alone, Airstrike headed for the place he had seen the figure.


The bandstand was silent. He was alone now. The cleaners had been and gone, everyone had left.

"H-hello?" The dark jet rounded a corner into the commentators booth. Two microphones sat on a freshly cleaned desk, their chrome tips shining brightly in the starlight. Airstrike looked around, optics landing on the same figure in the corner of the room. He approached him.

"You got a problem with me?"

The figure said nothing. The other black jet just met Airstrikes gaze and scowled. Airstrike's optics narrowed as he came closer.

"Look, if you had a friend in that race and he lost, don't take it out on me! Just tell them to do better next time!"

Still the form said nothing. Pushing itself off the wall, it transformed, speeding out of the room and into the depths of space. Airstrike followed in suit and joined the pursuit.

"Hey! Get back here I ain't finished with you!"

The form sped up, running so it was just infront of the champion. Airstrike followed, not noticing that he was being lead further and further away from the race track. There was a small noise, something of a chuckle from the leader who suddenly stopped, turning at lightning speed and transforming. Airstrike just managed to stop in time and transform as the shadow lashed out at him. He just managed to block the blow before he was struck again.

"Woah! Whats your problem pal?!"

"Goodbye..."

"What?!"

Airstrike gasped as the other moved faster than his optics could register, hitting him square in the chest. The jet bent over, catching his breath as the form struck again, this time in his back. The hit threw him to the ground, winding him and clouding his sensors.

Energon was drawn as the tip of a black blade collided with the red stripes on top of the downed jets back, causing him to cry out in pain. It struck again and again, metal and circuitry breaking away from his body. Airstrike screamed again as he felt the blade slice right through his leg, leaving a large crack through it. He saw one of his black wings fly past, his blue insignia sliced neatly in half.

"S-stop! Please!" His plea was ignored as the attacks continued. He couldn't even see his attacker! The black blurr sped round again, the hilt of its large weapon striking the back of Airstrikes helm. Airstrike gritted his teeth, using all his might to stand back up so he could attempt to run or fight back. His victory was short lived though as the blurr stopped behind him, gripping his shoulder tightly. Airstrike shook as he hissed into his audio.

"Scream..."

Airstrike screamed as the large, deadly blade struck a final time, pushing its way through his circuitry and coming back out just below his neck. Energon dripped from the jets mouth as he looked down, his optics flickering as the blade tip oozed with his own fluids. His breathing quickened as he fourght to stay concious. The large sword had sliced clean through his entire frame with ease. He could see the weapon. The top of it had some sort of red and green crystal-like substance attached to it...

He gasped weakly as the figure behind him pulled the blade out slowly, wiggling it to open the wound even more. Once it was out, Airstrike felt a large push as he was kicked over to the ground. It was the last thing he felt as he lost conciousness, his feet buckling under his weight.

"Pathetic..."

The form above him frowned, wiping some of the energon that had resided on his blade on the ground. Holding the weapon high above his head, he prepaired to strike the finishing blow, but he was stopped by a gunshot. Looking forward, another black jet stood not too far infront, a blaster pointed upwards at the twinkling stars above. Smoke rose from the barrel as the new comers red visor flashed in anger, meeting the small crack on the corner. The sword lowered, its owner scowling at the intruder.

"Sky Shadow..."

Sky Shadow lowered his weapon, his other hand balled into a fist as he glanced at the once proud jet laying still at the others feet.

"Nightshift... Why did you do this to my brother!"

Nightshift said nothing. He smirked, moving his blade to the tip of Airstrikes damaged wing. He applied pressure, carefully slicing around the blue insignia. Sky Shadow stood firm as metal struck metal, releasing a high pitched squeal as it was bitten into. The dark jet finished his work, kicking up the insignia and grabbing it in mid-air. He took one last look at the dying mech before transforming, speeding away before Sky could stop him. He was gone in a blink of an optic. Sky Shadow dropped his weapon, rushing over to the fallen jet, quickly surveying over the damage. He panicked, picking him up and opening a private connection.


-Sam!-

Sam jumped, reciving the call. She put her small cube on the table infront of her before replying.

-Sky?-

-Yeah its me... listen I need you to meet me at these co-ordinates!-

-Why whats happened?-

-I haven't got time for questions! Please just meet me he's dieing!-

-Who's dieing Sky?!-

-Airstrike! He's been attacked!-

-What!? Hang on I'm on my way!-

"Where you going commz?" Syndrome walked into the common room as Sam stood up, running for the door. Sam didn't answer, grabbing her jetpack and rushing out the airlock.


"Come on bro.. just stay with me... please..."

Sky Shadow hobbled through an asteroid belt, Airstrike by his side, fluids leaking out of the huge wound on his chest. Thankfully, the attack hadn't hit his spark, but the damage he had sustained in the short time of meeting Nightshift was fatel. Wires sparked angrily as energon ran over them, meeting the chipped black paint. It continued to run down to the pool that was spilling out of his leg, where it mixed with the oil spewing out from the cut and destroyed lines. Reaching the designated area he stopped, waiting for Sam. He couldn't be seen by the other Freelancers. They didn't even know he existed. Not even his dieing brother which he held beside him knew he existed.

Sighing, Sky Shadow set him down on the flattest asteroid around and waited. The belt was quiet, no noise at all except the intakes he could hear Airstrike taking. They hitched, following a patten. Breathe, breathe, hitch, breathe... Sky sat next to the large rock, his hands shaking as he listened. His brother's breathing was weakening every second he waited. Unconchously, he touched his crack on the side of his deep red visor. What was taking her so long!?

"Airstrike!"

Ahh... there she was...

"Oh my god... Sky what happened!?"

Sky Shadow stood up, running a hand down his brothers arm. He tried his best to stay calm, but his voice still wavered.

"I-I can't explain now... Get Skartplug and Syndrome here. Cannonball too to carry him back. I'll meet you later when he's stable"

Sam nodded, sending a radio call back to base. Sky Shadow kissed the top of his brothers helm before silently taking his leave. He didn't want to leave him, but he had to, otherwise he'd be found. He wouldn't be much of an assassian if an entire team knew about him, especially with the mouth Bullet had. No, to keep his bro safe, he had to be unknown to the others. But right now, he felt like a bounty hunter. Right now, nothing mattered except one thing.

Revenge.

Sky's visor flashed menecingly as he took out his own black energon sword, gripping its deep blue handle. Airstrikes name was engraved into the hilt. It was a reminder on why he kept the way he was. He held it at arms length, his other hand reaching up and taking out a second blade, identical to the first

"Nightshift..." He crossed the two blades, holding them out infront of him.

"You'll pay for this..."

TO BE CONTINUED...


Sam - O.o How the heck am I meant to end this?! Erm... Enjoy and I hope you await the next part?... I dunno! . Alright I gotta shoot before I'm perminantly banned off of the school computers for disobaying orders... again...

-Connection Temporarily Interrupted-

-Airstrike.The.Careful.Risk.Taker-