Here and Gone Again
A completely OC based fic that I've wanted to do ever since I came up with Illusions. You don't have to read Illusions or Paranoia to understand this, but it will seem slightly random to those who don't know the inspiration for it. Very very slightly. I mean that. Mostly, I just wanted to write about Gunpowder- who is probably my favorite OC ever.
Originally, this had about four different endings that I had under consideration. However, in the end, not only was this the most 'realistic' but the last four or so paragraphs completely fit my mood of that particular moment. Meh. Everyone has their off days I suppose.
Here and Gone Again
Blacklight was excited. The most prestigious exploration mission to have ever been conceived, led by Optimus Prime himself, and he was on it! True, he was merely an analyst and backup for a mech called Perceptor, but he had still be chosen to be a part of the crew, and that alone was enough to make Blacklight the happiest mech on Cybertron.
Their shuttle, the Shifter, wobbled only slightly as they passed over sector six, and area known for it's atmospheric anomalies that had been studied extensively before the war.
More than anything though, Blacklight couldn't wait to meet Perceptor. Perceptor was a legend of science the same way Optimus was a legend of leadership and Wheeljack was a legend of engineering. Somewhere along the line, Perceptor had become young Blacklight's idol.
Blacklight's other idol stood quietly behind him, acutely aware of his younger compatriots excitement. Gunpowder couldn't blame him though. Blacklight had the spark of an explorer, the fact that so many well-known, almost famous Autobots would be aboard only served to enhance his excitement. Gunpowder found himself looking forward to the mission almost as much as Blacklight was... Almost. The demolitions expert wasn't exactly of explorer caliber, but the prospects were still endearing to his war-weary self.
Turning, Gunpowder found himself looking upon the unusually quiet Wireweaver. One of only three femmes hired aboard the Ark, she was probably one of the stranger Autobots he had met. Quiet, broody, and he suspected at least somewhat suicidal. She spoke like she had hope for their race and the Autobot cause, but the underlying tones talked only of doom. Gunpowder, being somewhat proficient in psychology, had tried to talk to her on a few occasions, but hadn't gotten very far yet.
His biggest fear was that they might get caught in a combat situation and her suicidal urges might get them all killed.
Right now though, he wasn't terribly worried. He stood quietly, nodding as Blacklight chattered on about all the wonderful things they would see and do. It was Blacklight's dream come true, this mission. It wasn't hard to tell really, as he hadn't stopped talking about it since before they had even signed up.
"Do.." There was an abnormal pause. "Do you think Perceptor will like me, 'Powder?"
Gunpowder considered this a moment. He had been expecting this particular question for some time now. In fact, he was surprised it hadn't come sooner. He knew that the young mech had been stewing over the possibility ever since he had realized that they would be on the same ship together. He could not answer flippantly, or act like it was unimportant. Indeed, Perceptor's future opinion was second only to Gunpowder's some days.
"I cannot know for sure." He answered finally, in the deep, rock-solid voice that was his alone. "Do you think he will like you?"
Blacklight fidgeted in his seat a little. "Well, I don't know, but…" The 'what if?' hung clear in the air. Gunpowder couldn't really blame him for being nervous, but Pit be Primus if he was going to let the youngling get cold servos at the last minute!
"Then that is that. We'll find out when we get there." He said. Blacklight marveled at how Gunpowder could make anything sound so simple and calming. Then again, they had known each other for a while now-
Crack!
All three occupants of the vessel shot bolt upright as the ship shuddered and made several unsavory noises. There was another loud clang, the sound of gunfire, and then a curious hissing sound.
And then Blacklight yelled.
"Proximity scanners detect one… two seekers. They're preparing for another strafe! Two hull breaches and warnings of an acid fire near the aft… Automatic flight systems failing…" Blacklight's voice was strained, but not nearly as panicked and Gunpowder had feared. That was good, but everything else looked like it was falling apart far faster than he would have liked.
As Blacklight attempted to manage the manual flight controls, Gunpowder steadily made his way back to Wireweaver, not unbalanced at all by the increasingly unsteady craft. If the acid fire hit the generators… Well, they might survive if they got as far from it as possible.
Gunpowder cursed silently as he realized what he was looking at. Wireweaver hadn't moved. Just by looking at her he could tell that she had deemed the situation completely hopeless. She had heard Blacklight's warning, and moved even further back, out of Gunpowder's reach.
"Wireweaver!" He barked sharply. This was not the time for her suicidal urges. It would get them all killed. If they got things together they might stand a chance…
"Primus…" She whispered, barely heard over the noises of the quickly deteriorating craft. "Take care of those boys for me. Let them know I'm sorry. Let Ratchet be able to take care of them.. Let them let him… Let… Let… Greenlight…" She was staring off into space, and Gunpowder realized that he was out of time.
Flinging himself backwards, Gunpowder managed to wedge his bulk into a crevice as the explosion tore through the cabin, searing heat pouring in destructive waves. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. But now there was an additional problem. Metal melted around him, fires still flickered, and the aircraft spiraled out of control. There was little he could do but hold on and hope Blacklight was all right.
The crash itself was short and furious, leaving him more than a little disoriented. It took him a moment or two to force the crushed and mutilated metal out from around him. Silently, he praised his build. Any normal bot would have been crushed in that small crevice, but being a demolitions specialist –no matter how safe- generally led to at least a few upgrades in that area.
The cabin was dark, and he turned on his own lights to assess the damage. The ship was hardly even recognizable as having once been one it was so damaged. Everything was in eight pieces or more… With the exception of Wireweaver's blackened husk, which he caught a brief glimpse of in the rubble.
He would have liked a spare moment to mourn the medic's unfortunate death, but more pressing matters called. There was still a chance that Blacklight had survived. A small chance, but if…
"… 'owder..?" The call was weak, but distinct. Gunpowder hurried to the voice, and finding it covered in fallen metal, started to excavate his friend.
At first, Blacklight seemed okay. His optics were dim, he was slightly charred, and suffered more than a few dents, but overall he seemed fine.
Until Gunpowder realized that Blacklight was missing both his legs and part of his lower torso.
Utilizing his experience (patch jobs were a rather unofficial official requirement when dealing with explosives), Gunpowder made suitable work of stemming off the energon flow, and rerouted a few systems. He wasn't a medic, but hopefully it would hold until he could get them somewhere safe. Blacklight couldn't be left like this for too long.
"Powder…" Blacklight groaned again. Gunpowder shushed him, talking quietly.
"It's alright 'Light. But we have to move. Those seekers that shot at us are likely going to come gloat over their kills. We'll make for somewhere safe, and then get you fixed." He spoke quickly, almost rushed, which was odd, but Blacklight didn't question it in his still somewhat hazy state of mind.
"'Weaver..?" He questioned. Gunpowder just shook his head.
"She was too close, unprotected." Blacklight's senses were beginning to clear a little, only just, but enough that he knew what that meant.
"Her body…" He protested slightly as Gunpowder lifted him up. Gunpowder shook his head again.
"I can't carry you both." Was the soft reply. Blacklight shook his head, as though trying to deny his words, but ultimately did not have the ability or energy to protest beyond that. Gunpowder moved as fast as he could away from the crash site, and into the empty ruins of what had once been a thriving Cybertronian city.
In truth, he was worried. Blacklight needed medical help, and soon. He himself would need some minor repairs and an energon fix sooner or later. The city was huge, and beyond that there was a large stretch of nothing. He hoped he might run into resistance group, some nomads, or maybe even a camp of neutrals, but the chances were slim.
He knew it. He knew that Blacklight was going to die if they didn't find help. But there was no one there to help. They were too far away from others, too far out of Autobot territory…
Too far.
But he walked.
He walked a long time.
"I'm going to die… aren't I 'Powder?" His arms were empty. No longer did the weight hold him down- yet somehow he felt heavier then he ever did before.
"It's okay… I just wish.. I wish we could have made it to the Ark. I wish I could have met him.." He stumbled along, his joints becoming stiff from the long cycles without proper maintenance.
"I don't… Blame.. You.." He shuddered. His reserves were low. He would go into stasis lock soon. Maybe someday, in the far future, somebody would find him. Someday, when the war was over, and Cybertron restored..
"… You tried…. I guess.. I…was just.. . Meant to die out here.." Gunpowder stumbled one last time, this time not getting up. He had lost the energy to move. There was no more.. No more..
Stasis lock imminent.
Blacklight.. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.