AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everybody! I would like to apologize for my disappearance and the fact I have neglected your want to finish this story and know what happens next. I have been working full-time and haven't found the muse or the time to write! I am engaged and paying my own car off and all that stuff. All excuses at this point, but here is what I have written in ONE NIGHT last night! I will update this chapter as I write more, just keep an eye out! Thank you!
Fuchsia infused with the deepest depths of ebony vanquished any figments of a comforting invitation. Smoked ivory hinted of steel reflected against shades of scarlet and cobalt, checkered amongst double 38's on a set of doorwings. The praxian felt fear pulsate within his spark chamber, the venting system leading him to a cold corridor. Everything looked foreign. Suddenly nothing made sense, and all Smokescreen wanted to do was allow lubricant to seep from his optics. Intakes of air allowed the youngling to gather the courage to fall to the spooky corridor, pede steps softly impacting with the metal flooring. It seemed as though Smokey had eons to study each and every aspect of the Nemesis during his quality time with Alpha Trion. And yet here he was, processor scrambled with the haunting horror of Megatron terminating his sire, him unable to do anything to save him. Soft alarms sounded against the static that danced within the open air, yielding the silence.
"Focus, Smokescreen. What's the quickest way to the comm. hub?" The flat surface of the youngling's palm rested against the side of the wall, optics gleaming with unyielding fear that began to consume him. Cold metal drug his pedes on the tile, as he walked down the corridor- Smokey hadn't seen his sire in a while, so he was searching for an open door. Slowly, the young mech neared the source of the blaring alarms and flashing led lights. Colors danced against his painted metal, changing with the shade of light. As Smokescreen neared said alarms at the ending of the corridor, pede steps slammed into the metallic flooring.
"Scrap...!" Came his hushed curse, causing the young one to crouch, doorwings pinning against his back plating. Dome snapping behind him, the Autobot caught sight of shadows approaching in the far distance. In turn, this caused Smokescreen to drift left, an open door inviting him inside. Automatic sensors caused the door to close behind him, and before the youthful Soldier was a display of six large monitors. Cybertronian coding and the Decepticon's own language flooded the screens, and Smokescreen had a haunting feeling this.. may take a while. Funny how the Communications and cloaking systems were directly behind the holding cells and torturing wing. Unfortunately, those same steps and voices filled outside the door. Smokescreen grumbled to himself, and the ventilation systems within the ship was where he hid. The boy had just ducked beneath the ledge of the vents when the troopers swarmed the room. They were far more clueless than a regular Decepticon, so a brief sweep of the Communications Hub and they were off.
The tips of his wings grazed the top of the lip as he crawled out. Blinking softly, he crept towards the terminals and wiggled his digits about. Taking a deep intake, Smokey allowed the air to clear his systems before releasing it. "I can do this... how many times did Alpha Trion punish me for misbehaving? He KNEW I hated bothering with unfamiliar encryption." Optimus had, in fact, passed on some of his archivist knowledge upon his sparkling. How the Prime knew his young would require this skill in the near future, Smokescreen did not know. As Smokescreen began to punch away the keys, the 'Con tech began giving him slight trouble. Smokey exercised caution- Soundwave could be sleeping within these encryptions, and he did not wish to wake the beast.
It took Smokescreen a quite a few klicks, but soon he had cracked the code. The unique cloaking the Decepticons used was now down, and the Autobots could pinpoint the location of the ship. A smile spread across his sweet features, "Thank you, old bot." Came the boy's thankful chime; but it was premature. Voices, once again, sounded near- and Smokescreen froze. There was now no longer time to send out a signal to his carrier, and thus, the young one bolted for the venting. Sapphire optics gleamed against the darkness as three Aradicons moved calmly into the room, appearing to do a routine check. Megatron no doubt ordered them to keep tabs on this room in particular. As they seemed unimpressed with their task at hand, Smokescreen was already out of sight and out of mind.
"This would be a lot easier if I had my phase shifter..." Came the youngling's voice as he crawled within the duct, wings once again scraping the top of the cramped space. As the young one moved across the floor, an opening caused a sigh of relief from Smokescreen. Nudging open the hatch, he crawled out, shakily rising to his pedes. Making sure the coast was clear, Smokescreen observed and weighed both options before him. Choosing the option to move back towards the holding ward, the youngling fully planned on stealing back his phase shifter.. AND his sire. Soft pede steps once more lead him towards his destination, optics gleaming against the dim light. Drifting towards the wall, his digits grazed once more against the metallic surface.
The alarms still gleamed against the splitting silence, causing Smokescreen to follow toward them. A set of alarms resided near the Comm. Room, and where he had escaped. Next to his holding cell was his sire, no doubt, or perhaps a room down the corridor. He HEARD the abuse, the torment inflicted upon his father. Megatron will pay. Even as he neared his original location, troopers moved down the hall behind him once more. Spinning about, Smokescreen briefly flared his doorwings before lowering them, walking backwards and into the shadows of the right side of the next hall- the lights were shot, needing repaired or even replaced. As the shadows danced against the wall, Smokescreen backed up further. Almost immediately, the young one's wings collided with something behind.
Smokescreen hadn't a second to turn about before Megatron reached for his left doorwing. Talons sunk into the sensitive metallic mesh, enough to draw energon. The cry that resulted from said wounds made Megatron's smile spread, shark like denta gleaming against what light did reside there. Pulling Smokescreen into open air, the Lord of Darkness allowed him to become level with his own infuriated optics. Shivering metal and fearful optics met deep shades of crimson, and Smokey found he could no longer speak.
"You have been quite troublesome, little one. You have been a very naughty mechling..." The words were growled with such disapproval and raw fury, it instilled within the young Autobot before him. Smokey whimpered against his grip, servos gripping the Lord's wrist, trying to shift weight off of the hinge that connected to his back plating. Smokescreen felt exceedingly far from the ground beneath, processor spinning as Megatron began to walk forwards. In spite of himself, Smokey blinked hard and held his optics closed, forcing a smirk to play upon his mouth.
"I dunno Chief, you got me beat, considering you're the Decepticon's leader." Came his strained reply, in turn causing Megatron to allow a chuckle that held little humor,
"Oh, I must disagree, boy." Large pede steps lead the exuberant mech towards Smokescreen's original prison, troopers stumbling beneath the Warlord's pedes. To the youngling's daunting surprise, they passed right by said cell. The hall lead them to a corner, then towards a doorway guarded by Aradicons. The young Autobot hung within the air, still- the pain was sent in waves against his joint. Everything hurt. Smokescreen wasn't able to suppress the tiniest of whimpers that escaped him. These sounds were music, and the evil Cybertronian hummed and smiled, optics flicking to the fearful ones before him. The drones dipped their helms to their Master, and the Warlord leaned forwards to the optical registration, or a retinal scanner if you will. The eyepiece read Megatron's energon vessels within his optic and the door opened at will. Optimus's helm hung low between his smoke stacks, Smokey's neck straining to see his sire.
"S-Sire!" Came his strangled cry, pedes scraping at Megatron's wide chassis. The action was ignored, and Megatron merely watched this transpire, toothy grin spreading maliciously across his features. The bond between sire and sparkling ignited hard, and thus jolted the Autobot Commander to awaken. The distress within his son's voice was enough for Optimus's optics to online, his systems rebooting. Lifting his helm, it felt as though there were a thousand scraplets eating away at his processor. Optics blinking groggily, they soon focused and widened at the sight of Megatron holding his young.
"Smoke... screen?"