Accord
It was more than just a mission. More than just hunting down another Decepticon. More than just bringing another traitor to justice.
This time, the target was one of their own.
He transformed in avid eagerness as he approached the traitor's ship. The vehicle was well equipped, delicately programmed, but a sparkless drone still. Wise decision. With a living partner, he could have been hunted down by his former teammates more easily.
He knew that the others were already in position, and ready to infiltrate the vessel. But it was his task to go in first. He transformed again. Perhaps the target didn't even know they were after him, but he was suspicious with a reason. Nobody quits the Division in the middle of a mission only because they found "more upsetting problems" while they worked under cover.
He transformed excitedly as he came in contact with the seemingly empty and abandoned ship. The next thing he felt was a sickening jolt of electricity as his own circuits unexpectedly got blocked, their charge suddenly losing direction. If he wasn't a proud mech, he would have cursed at the nullray trap. Or maybe he would have cursed if he hadn't offlined immediately.
When he rebooted, he was in a small room. He could hear the engines, he could feel the unmistakable shifts and soft shakes of space traveling. Of course, his weapons were disconnected and his transformation cog pinched so that he couldn't transform. And when he tried to hiss at the humiliating treatment, he had found that he was unarmed the worst way: he was muted too. At least his mask was still in place.
"I didn't expect you to come after me this soon, boss". The sound was familiar. The sparkbeat, oh, the sparkbeat was even more familiar, if only he had his vocaliser, he would have...
"That is why I temporarily offlined it, you zealous follower."
Oh, frag. The traitor might have abandoned his team, but he sure had the ability he was equipped with. He wasn't only able to read other mechanism's thoughts, he was also able to manipulate them according to his own will.
Now, he wanted his former leader to calm down and believe that his voice would be back as soon as he left the small ship's proximity.
Slag you, scrapheap.
::Use your radio if you want to say something:: the traitor suggested.
::Where are the others?:: was his first question.
"Under the impression that you changed your plan and decided to set a more thought out trap for me on Beta Hydra II." That voice. The traitor was rubbing his face into his muteness.
::They will come after you. No matter what you do to me, where you run from us.::
"I'm not running from you, boss. I'm running after mechs who broke an agreement our leaders had signed long ago" he corrected the prisoner. "Neutrals had been leaving Cybertron ever since the war broke out. Don't you realize the potential danger in their exodus? Thousands, perhaps ten thousands of Cybertronians, carrying our techs, our strengths, our weaknesses, to worlds we don't even know. If just one megabyte of this sensitive information falls into the wrong hands, it could be the end of our world, end of our whole race. Megatron's ultimate goal was a glorious Cybertron, not a dead graveyard."
::'Many will perish...'::
"Many, but not all!" he interrupted the quotation. "Listen, Tarn. During the time I spent under cover, I gained access to Aequitas. You don't want to know how much crime and sin I read about. We all are potentinal sinners." His heated words echoed even harsher in Tarn's audials, now that he couldn't talk back. The traitor continued. "Any mech, Decepticon, Autobot, neutral or whatever can sell our technology to alien species. They did, and they do. And I will bring them to justice."
::You.:: The trapped mech looked at the former Division member, and the Autobot insignia he was still wearing after the facade. His frame was built of the same materials and in similar style as the other mechanisms of the Decepticon Justice Division. His fake paint was already peeling off, revealing the dark purple metal in his joints. And his spark was pulsing like when he was accepted to the team, just as dedicated, just as courageous, just as stubborn.
Finally, Tarn nodded with an easily-hidden grin. He wasn't sure whether this happened entirely on his own will or because the traitor made him think so. Coincidentally, he was talking about a treaty that was signed in, and named after, the territory that also happened to be the transgressor's code name.
::How ironic.::
The ship gave a small beep, indicating that they would arrive soon.
"I'm going to leave you in the Kol system, unless you want to come to Vok territory with me" the one with the fake Autobot symbol murmured. "You should see a doctor sometime very soon, Tarn. That transformation cog of yours is so worn it could break the next time you transform."
"Mind your own business" Tarn spit out.
Wait. Was his voice back? Then what was he waiting for?!
Suddenly, he realized he couldn't find enough willpower to do what he'd wished for during the whole conversation. He had the traitor's spark frequency, but he couldn't bring himself to distort it. The other mech must have been using his talent against him, but how could he, Tarn, leader of the Decepticon Justice Division, be kept so easily under control?
Perhaps it was not control that kept him silent.
It was understanding and agreement.
Accord.
Their optics met, two shining pairs of light that mirrored their spark activity.
"Don't you ever make me come after you" they said in unison.
After a sparkbeat, they hissed "You neither."
Much later, Tarn was looking up at the ship disappearing in the dead space, and he still couldn't regret missing the last chance to kill the deserter. It wasn't just for the fact that Tyrest deliberately dropped him off where he could get new transformation cogs for himself. Megatron had indeed signed that treaty. The Tyrest Accord.
