Starting a newww one! Where Is My Mind is currently on hold. I am kind of feeling super artist/writers block/fart with the story line. -_- But this story WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE. I think about it, almost word for word, all the time. Mostly when I am trying to go to sleep. Maybe if I actually get it down and complete it, it will leave me alone and I will be able to think about something else and SLEEP again. Gahh. Probably looking at about 8 chapters or so at around 4 pages a piece.
Title: First Of The Year
Rating: M
Rating reason: Violence and gore, highly strong adult themes. Seriously.
Universe: Armada (pre-earth)
Primary Characters: High command decepticons and a couple of ocs. Megatron, Starscream, Wheeljack, Demolisher, Cyclonus, Oilslick, Thrust, Kova(Scaleblade), Skullgenocide.
Summary: Megatron sends one Oilslick on a mission he can't pass up- taking out one of the most corrupt Senator's on Cybertron. But when Oilslick arrives, the deed is already done, and not by anyone he would have expected.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, no copyright infringement intended. But the OCs are mine.
Oilslick made his way through the decrepit and diseased allies quickly and silently. Trying to remain unseen in a dark alley would probably be presumably easy, but not here in Axiom Nexus. This place was ruled by thugs, gangs, and tyrants. Despite it being a large city, outsiders were easily picked out and more often than not preyed upon.
He couldn't afford attention. He needed to be in and out. He couldn't screw this up. There wouldn't be another opportunity like this for a very long time. As much as Senator Pharox dealt underhandedly with crime rings, the chances of him actually showing up in the slums again for a while were slim to none. And whenever one of those upper class scumbuckets crawled out of their gilded palaces and left their bodyguards behind, the opportunity was just too good to pass up. When Megatron had contacted him, he knew what to do. Hit and runs weren't exactly his specialty, but he had been the closest contact to Axiom Nexus.
This revolution wasn't going to get anywhere with the peacefulness that Autobots preached anymore. Not while the politicians and upper casts could simply dismiss the lower and turn a blind optic away from conflict. Megatron had understood that and his movement had caught on like a wildfire with the poor and suppressed.
Oilslick ducked behind a dumpster, careful not to be spotted by those passing by on the street. One shot was all he needed to put one more corrupt senator out of commission and help send the Decepticon movement springing forward even more. He made his way to the Darqueroom.
The Darqueroom. That cesspool of drugs, dealing, and femmes. Oilslick sneered. Of course it was one of the Senator's favorite retreats.
He passed the back door and made his way to a half rusted fire escape, quickly making his way up. He checked his chronometer- the Senator should be well into being 'entertained' at the moment and won't even have time to react of defend himself.
Good.
Oilslick made it to the floor that the inside contacts had supplied. The senator should be in the room all the way to the left- the one that was always reserved for the highest paying customers. Oilslick grimaced but directed his attention solely to the mission at hand. He made it to the window with his back still against the wall and loaded his blaster. Crouching down onto one knee, he peaked into the room.
And just barely missed a light being flashed in his face.
Oilslick swung back against the wall, cursing as he did so. Who the hell was in there with a damn searchlight? Oilslick cursed once more before crouching even lower and daring another look. He couldn't see much, but it looked clear as far as he could tell. Whatever he had just saw was already gone. He wasn't going to risk waiting anymore. Without hesitating, he silently opened the window and climbed through, blaster in hand. Too bad he didn't need it.
He had fully expected to walk in on the Senator fully engaged with one of the many prostitutes of the establishment. He had even ran through the possibility of running into the Senator's guards. What he hasn't expected was to walk into a full on bloodbath.
There was energon everywhere.
Oilslick stared, mouth slightly agape, as he took in the scene around him. The bed, floor, walls, and even the ceiling was covered in energon and oil splatter. The smell of freshly spilt life source filled the room. Oilslick began a live record feed to store this later to present to Megatron. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to describe it otherwise. He made his way farther into the room, taking in the scene of the energon soaked recharge berth. As he peered on the other side, he was met with the site of a very bloody and very dead Senator Pharox. Oilslick stalled slightly in confusion as he recorded the Senator's wounds for data. Someone had beaten him to his mission.
Oilslick looked up and to the right at the open door, a bloody trail of energon spilling into the hallway before disappearing. At the sound of panicked voices approaching and a chorus of footsteps growing closer, Oilslick wasted no more time. He turned and all but flew out of the window he had come in, sliding down the railing of the fire escape and disappearing like a black shadow back into the night.
Oilslick ducked and weaved through the allies once more, only this time; trying to make his way out of Axiom Nexus before the authorities completely shut it down in search of the Senator's killer. The way he had come into the walled city was the best way out as well, but it was only a matter of a few clicks before there would be armed guards surrounding every inch of it.
Oilslick tried to recap every piece of information he had been given. He was the closest contact Megatron had to the Darqueroom. How could someone have beaten him to his objective? It made no sense at all. Now, authorities had been notified before he had even had a chance to kill the Senator in the first place, making his escape out of the city now close to impossible. Oilslick rounded another corner and stopped in the dark, cycling his intakes. As he paused to think over his possible options, he noticed he wasn't alone.
Oilslick drew his blaster again, aiming it at the shadowed figure slumped against the wall opposite of him. He glared but the figure did not move. He eased and lowered his weapon. Just another street bum. He made to leave when he caught the scent of energon. More specifically, freshly spilt energon he had smelled only clicks ago. He froze slightly before turning back to the shadowed figure he had presumed a streeter. Shining his blaster's scope at the figure reaffirmed his suspicions as he stared at the slumped form of a femme covered head to ped in energon and oil.
His processer stalled slightly. No.
A prostitute killed Pharox?
No. Just no. That was incomprehendible. Pleasurebots were incapable of going against orders. They were essentially drones that had preset functions and command codes. On the outside, they seemed to have a slight personality depth, but they didn't have the free will of a normal transformer, just like most of the other slave casts.
But regardless of all that, here was a half-naked prostitute covered in a now dead Senator's energon. It lined up, but at the same time it didn't. Oilslick was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of raid siren's filling the streets as enforcers no doubt searched for Sentaor Pharox's killer. He didn't have time to stop and debate. He needed to get out.
Oilslick stared at the femme, who seemed to be deep in thought and completely unbothered by his presence. Oilslick knew that Megatron would be furious if he had learned that not only had he failed his mission and jeopardized the movement, but he had run into the real killer and just walked away. He cursed once again that night and subspacing his blaster and kneeling in front of the femme.
"Hey. You need to move. Enforcers are coming through. They find you, they'll kill you." Oilslick tried to reason. He made to grab the young femme's arm to haul her up when he noticed a dagger clutched in her hand, death-gripped by the prostitute. Oilslick didn't want to get stabbed, she seemed… unstable. He tried again. "You killed the Senator." He stated lowly.
Oilslick caught a flash in the femme's optics. "Yes." She coldly stated, void of emotion and color, her optics still staring emptily at the wall across from her.
Oilslick smiled inside at the confirmation, but the sounds of enforcers nearing them stopped any movement of celebration. "Okay. I need you to come with me. I know someone who would like to talk to you, and thank you. But I need you to move right now. If you don't I have to leave you here. They will arrest you and kill you if they catch you." He quickly informed.
He was met with no response and the same blank stare. Sighing as the thought of a very disappointed Megatron crossed his CPU for the second time that night, he moved quickly, grabbing the small femme's upper arm and lifting her up off of the ground. He had expected retaliation but was relieved when she complied although she made no move to release her hold on the dagger in her hand. He wasted no time, dragging her along behind him and running for his exit. The femme stumbled along at first, before falling in step behind him, seemingly still inside her own thoughts and oblivious to the world around her.
Rounding the last corner after some time, and a near run in with armed authorities, the pair made it to the edge of the walled city that Oilslick had made his entrance through. Leaving the still silent femme alongside the alleyway they had just exited, Oilslick looked to double-check that the area was clear. He crept over to the towering wall and made a small whistle. When he received the same whistle in return echoing from the other side, he motioned for the femme to come over to him. When she did not move he growled lowly, hurriedly making his way back over to her, grabbing her arm once again and dragging her over to the wall. Oilslick whistled again, this time twice, and received the same echo before a small but lengthy cable was thrown from the other side and dangled down the expanse of the wall.
Oilslick directed his attention to the femme once again. "Can you climb?" He directed in a hushed and hurried tone. When he received nothing in return he began aggravated once more. Oilslick grabbed the femmes face with both of his hands, forcefully directing her optics to his before hissing again, "Can you climb!"
The physical contact seemed to snap the femme out of whatever stupor she had been in. All in that instant, the glossy, lost and distant look of her optics left and was replaced by life once more. Very angry life.
The femme glared heatedly and shoved Oilslick away from her with more force than he had anticipated coming from the small prostitute. Her posture completely changed from slumped and loose as her shoulders hitched and joints locked, preparing to fight, still covered in the dead Senator's energon.
Oilslick stepped back slightly and eyed her warily. That small spark of… whatever that was suddenly made the picture of her slaughtering Senator Pharox much clearer and easier to believe. The spell of shock that had been over the femme was gone, leaving a very obviously street-hardened killer in her place.
She couldn't be a drone, Oilslick mused.
Prompted out of his thoughts by another whistle from the other side of the city wall, Oilslick spoke again. "We need to move. Climb or I leave you."
The femme continued to glare at him in return before venting heatedly and turning towards the cable dangling from the other side of the wall. She stared at the dagger still clutched in her right hand in thought before taking the blade between her teeth. Both hands now free, she latched onto the cable and began to climb.
Oilslick starred at the femme, completely perplexed. No she wasn't a drone. But prostitutes were only permitted to work if they were drones. It was very illegal to do otherwise. Oilslick snorted at the irony. He really shouldn't be shocked. With the way this backwards city was run, illegal was just part for the norm. After the femme made some leeway up the cable, Oilslick started up after her.
To be continued.