This popped into my head after watching AoE again and coming away unhappy with how a few things were handled. My attempts to fix-it to my liking, and do some justice to Movie!Drift. (Awesome guy but a touch too stereotypical for my tastes.)

Hopefully something that doesn't unfold a monster plot on me, and remains a side project.

Invictus' energy seemed to screeble against his plating, enough for the samurai's helm to whip around, staring down the long passageway. ~No...~

~Yes. Find.~ The Sword hissed, radiating defiance and not-so-empty-threats against it's Wielder. Drift grunted, well aware of what denying the Sword could lead to. Had lead to in the past. He broke away from the group with a single minded growl. "Keep the fleshlings safe."

He knew he sounded like Deadlock, once, before - Before then. Before he'd swapped sides, before Knucklehead had died. He knew the humans were staring at him in shock. He didn't care.

"Where are you going?"

"I've a feeling we've missed something." He said; they didn't know that Invictus was more than just a sword; they couldn't know or they want him to use it as more than a last resort. Only when he'd gained the affirmative from Crosshairs, did the once-Decepticon take off down the passageway. The others continued on without him. He'd either meet up with them, or not and find his own way back to Earth. If only because he did not want to go where the ship was headed.

It didn't take him long, Invictus hissing, screaming - shrieking in a language only he could understand - for it's forge-twin.

He expected to find the Sword lifeless, a husk waiting for a new wielder. He didn't expect to find its nexus pulsing dim-blue. He also didn't expect to find a familiar jet hanging upside down in stasis. He didn't even think as he blasted the cage open, wincing as the jet hit the ground. Please, please don't be dead. He didn't want to lose another friend, another lover to Lockdown. He didn't think he could take it, not so soon after Knucklehead. He leaned over, hand ghosting the jet's shoulder-

He didn't even have time to blink; a sword was at his throat, golden optics wild - afraid. He backed up as the figure stood. Taller than him by a few heads, but not as tall as say Starscream.

"Who," the voice rasped. It hadn't been used in a long, long time.

"Deadlock - Wing-" He spread his hands out, hoping the gesture meant something to an otherwise skittish mech. He really, really did not want to be stabbed. "Your domesticated Decepticon."

Because he wasn't tame. He'd never be tame, but Wing had... done something, domesticated him enough when he'd been captive in Crystal City, that once he'd defected, he'd made genuine attempts to fit in with the Autobots. He knew they'd likely never trust him, but he tried.

(In hindsight, maybe reinventing himself so completely hadn't been the smartest idea... Oh well. He liked annoying Hound with his haiku and gratuitous Japanese.)

"Prove it."

The Sword dug in and Drift swallowed before slowly kneeling. The only other mechanoid he'd kneel to was Optimus Prime, but as far as Wing knew, Deadlock - Drift - had only ever knelt to him. "I have Invictus."

He made sure the name was attached with the Sword's glyphs: Unconquered Spirit.

"Show." It was more an order than request, and carefully, Drift drew the Great Sword from where it hung, half-hidden amongst his other swords.

He dropped it to the ground at his Knight - Daimyu's feet. A strange word, but one that he thought suited the relationship they'd once had - still had. Allspark, his processor was off its game, and he knew it was because he'd found someone he'd thought dead was actually alive, and having Invictus shrieking hadn't helped. He'd need to race once everything was over. Race and meditate and drag Crosshairs away for a round or three of sparing. Spar with Wing, too. Maybe more.

He'd think about those things later. He was a warrior first. A few deep breaths in and out and cool air washed relief across heatsinks.

Slowly, the Sword - Egregius Caeli-, his cortex roughly translated Peerless Heavens' name to a local, if ancient, language- withdrew. At the same time, Invictus' hissing returned to the near silent purr of contentment.

"Deadlock."

"Drift." He said suddenly.

"Drift. It.. suits you. Driftlock." The name was laden with so many meanings and Drift smirked despite himself, reclaiming his Sword and standing only when given a nod. Wing glanced around, shoulder's hunching. "The rest - They're not-"

"Prime's set a charge." He noticed how Wing's optics rezzed, but he didn't have time to explain. "The prison ship'll detach. We've got to get out before that happens, or Lockdown notices."

"Or his pet." Wing added as he followed Deadlock away from his cell, trusting his Decepticon not to lead him astray.

"Pet?" Drift paused, unease flickering though his field. Why did he not like the sound of that. "What... sort of pet."

"A former Knight." Wing gave a name.

Drift cursed. "Is he - active?"

"Yes." Wing said softly, "He is."

Comments etc welcome and appreciated, as are prompts.