A longer chapter to make up for the shorter last one.
Chapter Eighteen - Elsewhere
The gladiator pit's stands were full. Full of mechs and femmes wanting to see a fight. Wanting to watch two opponents shred each other apart until one offlined. They were here for spilled energon.
The pit's announcer walked from his gate into the middle of the ring. The crowd cheered, anticipating the next match.
Ignoring the stench of newly spilt energon, the announcer stood, waving at the crowd. He was a short mech with a medium build, painted completely midnight black. A red visor spanned the top half of his face, a grin across the lower half.
Connecting his comm to the speakers, he yelled, "Who's ready for another fight?"
The crowd roared in excitement. Ricochet waited for them to settle down before speaking again.
"Alright. So, we've had one death match, now we're gonna have us something special," the black mech said. "We've got one of your favourites to fight the next prisoner."
More cheering. More bets were cast. The noise died down again, waiting for the gladiator to be announced.
Ricochet started pacing one way across the center of the ring. He threw a servo out towards one side, gesturing to the gate in that side. "On this side, we have an Autobot prisoner that's been in the ring before."
The crowd booed, screaming their distaste.
Turning, Ricochet went a few feet in the opposite direction. "And on this end, we got— Ready for it?"
He paused for dramatic effect, eyeing the crowd from under his visor. "Iron Blade!"
As the crowd made more noise, Ricochet backed towards his own gate. The gates on either side opened, the mechs entering the ring.
"Begin!" the ebony announcer yelled. He walked through his gate and after it closed, hurried to his spot to watch the match.
The Autobot prisoner, a mid sized, red-coloured mech, advanced steadily. He knew that this was a death match. If he didn't win this, he would offline.
This Iron Blade fellow was going down instead.
The gladiator on the other side of the pit, to the Autobot's surprise, was quite young. Perhaps around only twenty vorns. Iron Blade was short, no taller than the mech who'd announced the fight. He had thick armour, coloured in a pale blue and varying shades of grey. Long wings moved behind him, twitching slightly as their owner watched his opponent.
The Autobot also noted his weapons.
Iron Blade held a long sword in one hand, a large shield in his other.
The Autobot had chosen a battle axe as his weapon.
"So, Iron Blade," the Autobot sneered as he reached the center of the pit. "Are you ready to join the Allspark?"
Iron Blade hadn't moved very far from his gate. He smiled darkly. "It is you who will be offlining today, Autobot stench. Not I."
"We'll see about that," roared the Autobot. With those words, he charged with his axe held high.
Iron Blade's battle mask extended from the sides of his helm and he moved forwards. Just before the two collided, he dodged to the side, swiping at the Autobot with his sword.
"Aaaugh," the mech cried as the sword sliced deeply into his exposed side.
The mech whirled, intending to bring the axe through the back of Iron Blade's neck cables.
The blue and silver mech brought up his shield, effectively blocking the strike. With his free hand, he swung his sword again. It made contact with the other mech's knee joint, severing part of the joint.
Now limping heavily, the red Autobot staggered backwards. Iron Blade advanced, swinging his sword again.
This time, the red mech blocked the sword. He shoved the weapon away and using the axe's momentum, swung at Iron Blade's pede.
The gladiator barely moved it in time, the blade grazing the side as it was buried several inches in the ground. He took several paces away, checking his pede.
The Autobot yanked his weapon out and charged again.
Bringing his shield up to block the oncoming blade, the gladiator was surprised when it was not the axe that hit it. The Autobot had, shoulder first, ran into his shield. The force of the blow knocked Iron Blade down to the ground, the Autobot falling over him.
Both mechs lost their weapons and scrambled to prevent the other from regaining theirs. The red mech decided to turn the match into a fist fight. He flung himself towards the other mech.
Iron Blade still had his shield. He ducked under a fist going for his helm. Seeing his opportunity, the gladiator rammed the shield into his opponent's side where he'd previously been injured. Armour broke off as he removed his shield.
Crack!
The Autobot staggered back, holding his side. His vents were working overtime as energon poured from the now enlarged wound.
The gladiator grinned and picked up his sword. That had sounded like something internal broke with the armour.
As he steadily advanced, the crowd went wild. They knew it was almost over.
Putting his hands into fists, the Autobot brought his servos up, ready to strike. But the look in his optics told Iron Blade that he knew it was over too. He tried to throw another punch at the gladiator, but it was easily knocked away by the shield.
Normally a better fighter, the red Autobot was exhausted from being in so many fights previously. Now he was injured and losing energon rapidly.
Iron Blade extended his sword, setting it against his opponent's neck cables. "Will you die in what dignity you have left?"
The Autobot straightened, glaring defiantly down at the Decepticon. "I have more dignity than the gladiator about to cowardly snuff my spark out."
Iron Blade let out a growl and brought his blade back. With a swing, he sliced the helm of the Autobot clean off.
The crowd became deafening. Some stood to their pedes. There were disagreements among those that had bet on the details of Iron Blade's fight.
The gladiator sneered down at the lifeless frame of his opponent. "Such dignity you have. Dying a pathetic death in the pits of Kaon." Returning his sword to its sheath on his hip, he turned to the crowd and lifted his arms.
"Iron Blade! Iron Blade! Iron Blade!" they cheered.
After several kliks of listening to them, the victorious gladiator returned to his gate. Leaving the noise and the pit behind, he headed to the washrack. There were no more matches for him that orn and Megatron wished to speak with him later.
About what Iron Blade didn't know. Hopefully another mission.
It wasn't very often that Megatron visited the gladiator pit. He had other things to do besides look after recruitment, training, and prisoners.
If the warlord was coming and wanted to speak with Iron Blade, it must be important.
The young gladiator smiled. It was good to be in the top ten best gladiators of the pit.
Ricochet frowned. He'd announced the end of the fights for the orn and shut down the pit. They had lost three more prisoners after Iron Blade's match.
One definitely Autobot, the others neutrals.
The announcer shook his helm. All innocent lives. He hated this part of his job.
Walking down the dark, dingy tunnel leading to the prisoners' side of the pits, Ricochet paused. Someone else was in the hallway. No one else should be here.
Silently, the mech crept forward. His armour blended in perfectly with the shadows, making him almost invisible even with night vision. He dimmed his visor's red glow.
A voice came to his sharp audios. He listened intently. Another part of his job, both officially and unofficially, was to keep an optic out for traitors.
"That Iron Blade's got to go," hissed a gruff voice in low tones. "He's killing everyone. How're we supposed to build an army when there's no one left."
A second voice answered. "He's too high in the ranks for us to touch. We just got to lay low and hope for the best. There's nothing we can do unless we're in the ring with him."
Ricochet quickly matched the voices to their owners. Both mechs were fighters who joined Megatron's gladiators, but were really secretly still Autobots. They were apart of those who planned to get enough followers and escape, taking as many prisoners as possible with them. Neither knew Ricochet was well aware of their plan.
Neither knew he was were the plan originated.
A pair of pedesteps came down the hall in the direction Ricochet had come. The conspiring Autobots didn't seem to hear.
Ricochet moved towards the approaching newcomer. If it was a true Decepticon, he couldn't be allowed to hear the Autobots. He took a step into the center of the corridor.
As Cutthroat marched down the hall, he stopped short as Ricochet seemed to materialize out of the darkness right in front of him.
"Ricochet?" he sputtered. "What are you doing down here?" Cutthroat had fought Ricochet in the pit before and was a little bit scared of the smaller mech.
Knowing he was now out of hearing range of the two undercover Autobots, Ricochet crossed his servos. "Oh, you know. Checking the tunnels for any mecha who ain't supposed to be here."
Cutthroat laughed nervously. "Anyone in particular?" He didn't know the announcer went down here or why he was looking for mecha.
"Traitors. Discontents. Conspirators," Ricochet shrugged, casually leaning against the wall. "Wouldn't know any, would you?"
"This is my chance," thought Cutthroat gleefully. "If I tell Ricochet what I heard, he'll surely tell Megatron and I'll move up the ranks."
The Decepticon nodded, looking around suspiciously. Then, he leaned closer to the black mech.
"I heard a few of the new fighters talking the other orn. They were talking about a jailbreak. Planning to let all the Autobots out."
"Huh, happen to catch any names?" asked Ricochet with interest.
"Blindside, Whiplash, and Runway were there. Those younglings, the twin terrors, were there too."
"All them almost. Those bots better be more careful," Ricochet thought. He straightened and patted Cutthroat on the shoulder. "Good job, mech. Anyone else with you when you heard them?"
Cutthroat grinned. "Nope. Just me. They were off in one of the unused rooms where no one else goes. I was bored and went exploring and saw them. There's no cameras down there either."
"Good. No cameras down here either," Ricochet said.
The Decepticon's face scrunched up in confusion. "What does that have to do with— "
Before Cutthroat could finish and before he knew what was happening, Ricochet slammed his helm into the wall. Grabbing Cutthroat's wrist and elbow, the smaller mech threw him to the ground.
Cutthroat lay there groaning and wondering what happened. "What'd I do?" he wailed.
Ricochet crouched beside him. "Ya went pokin' where ya ain't belongin'."
The Decepticon's ruby optics widened at the sudden accent and slight voice change. "What happened to your voice, Ricochet?"
The black mech chuckled. "Nothin'."
A knife pricked Cutthroat's neck cables and he froze.
"Ya missed one Autobot on yer list, Cutthroat." Ricochet said, putting slight pressure on the knife.
A bead of energon emerged from the wound and trickled down the mech's neck cables. "That was all! I didn't even hear about anyone else! I swear!" Cutthroat pleaded. "I'll find them again; I'll make them tell me!"
"Dat won't be necessary. Ya already found him."
"What?"
"His real name ain't Ricochet though," the black mech said lowly. "It's Jazz."
Cutthroat didn't even have time to scream before the deadly blade was plunged deep. The Decepticon offlined quickly, Ricochet made sure of it.
He stood up, wiping the energon off his knife before throwing it in subspace. With one last look, the announcer walked away, back the way he'd come in.
Iron Blade stood before Megatron quietly, waiting for the warlord to speak.
The large silver mech was standing by his window, facing away from the young gladiator. He finally spoke without turning.
"Iron Blade, both Redwing and Ricochet have told me many times of your great victories in the pits," Megatron began. "I also, have observed your fights." The former gladiator turned then, taking a few steps in Iron Blade's direction.
"You fight well and look to be a promising member of the Decepticon army. Perhaps one solarcycle you will even be my second," Megatron continued.
"Thank you, Lord Megatron," Iron Blade replied, dipping his helm. "I wish to serve you in the best way I can."
Megatron smiled darkly. "Good. I have a request for you to fulfill. There is a certain Autobot soldier who has been causing trouble for the troops."
Iron Blade was handed a datapad with information and a picture of the mech.
"Thanks to Soundwave, there is what you will need," the warlord said, gesturing to the datapad. "Deal with the Autobot, then return."
"Do you want him brought back online?" Iron Blade inquired, looking up from the datapad.
Megatron replied, "No, get rid of him. I trust you can do that?"
"Yes, sir," Iron Blade grinned darkly. "It will be a pleasure. I'll leave immediately."
"Good. You are dismissed."
Iron Blade bowed and left his leader's office. Taking one more look at the datapad, he subspaced it and headed towards his room. All he had to do was retrieve his weapons he'd be taking and then he was ready.
The young gladiator grinned. Megatron had basically told him he was going to make him second in command one orn. Iron Blade had heard rumours that the only reason he wasn't yet was because of his age. Lord Megatron didn't want someone as young as Iron Blade in that position.
He'd get there eventually. He was sure of it.
Meanwhile, Iron Blade had an Autobot to hunt.
The chaotic sounds of battle assaulted his audios. The smell of death and spilt energon filled his olfactory sensors. Pain ripped through his shoulders as he pushed against the sword wishing to slice off his helm.
With a war cry, Sunstreaker gave a final shove and his opponent backed up a few steps. The yellow youngling quickly rolled free before his attacker came back. He jumped to his pedes; his own sword ready.
The two mecha circled each other like a pair of cybercats. Both were skilled fighters. Both were on the gladiator's side of the ring. Both were fan favourites.
Both were quite nasty.
The other mech, coloured in what Sunstreaker thought was a sickly looking green, charged the fourteen-vorn-old.
Sunstreaker jumped to the side, then ran after the bigger mech. The yellow mechling was tall, but his opponent was a lot bigger and stronger than him.
Launching himself upwards, Sunstreaker latched onto the green mech's back. Getting a hand between his shoulder armour and neck cables, Sunstreaker grabbed a handful of the mech's throat.
The mech froze. He'd been about to fall on his back to crush the youngling, but he knew if he moved, he'd be in trouble. Sunstreaker wouldn't hesitate to yank his neck cables out. He'd seen him do it before.
Just because they were both favoured gladiators didn't mean they liked each other.
The crowd was loud, some booing and some cheering. Seeing two gladiators fight was good enough for some of them. Not all of them though.
They were here for spilt energon, not a stalemate.
That part of the crowd screamed for the fight to keep going. They wanted to know who would come out as the victor.
Sunstreaker glared over at the two mechs that ran the pit when Megatron himself wasn't around. Which was almost always. They stood in the stands, close to top of the ring where they could interfere easily if necessary.
Redwing shook his helm, giving Sunstreaker a dark look.
Not today, the look said.
The smaller mech beside the giant seeker, lifted a fist. Once the crowd quieted enough to hear him, the black mech spoke.
"Alright. We have our victor! Sunstreaker!"
The volume in the pit grew again, drowning out anything else Ricochet said.
Sunstreaker hopped down from his opponent's back. He made his way back to the gladiator's gate on the far side of the ring. The whole way, the younger mech kept his optic on the other gladiator following him back.
You could never trust one of these mechs. Some would just as rather offline you as look at you.
Sunstreaker went immediately to the medbay and washracks. He'd suffered a few minor wounds in the fight and his armour felt disgusting. Who knew whose energon had been sitting out there in puddles for orns? Not to mention all the dirt.
As he was scrubbing his pedes, a shadow fell across the doorway of his stall. Sunstreaker continued on with what he was doing, knowing who the intruder was.
A red youngling, same age, height, and build as him leaned against the wall. The mechling looked down at the yellow one quietly for a few kliks.
"You okay?" he finally asked.
"Fine," Sunstreaker snapped. He moved on to work on his other pede.
"Really? Cause you haven't been yourself for some time."
Sunstreaker looked up at the red mechling who looked quite like himself. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sideswipe shook his helm. "You're different."
"Huh?"
"You never used to be this irritable," Sideswipe said, gesturing towards him with a hand. "You never talk to me anymore; I haven't seen you pick up even a charcoal stick to draw for megacycles now."
The yellow twin went back to his scrubbing, ignoring his brother.
"Sunny— "
"Don't call me that," Sunstreaker snapped. "Do you need something or not?"
Sideswipe stood there for a while, staring at his twin. Then, he turned and walked away.
"What's wrong with him?" he wondered. "He's even closed part of our bond so I don't know what he's thinking or feeling."
The red twin trudged back to their room, passing other gladiators as they went their own ways. Once inside, Sideswipe shut the door.
He looked around the room he shared with Sunstreaker. There wasn't much. A couple berths and a desk. Hardly any personal belongings.
Sideswipe sighed. He just wanted to leave the pits. The twins had been taken from their homes about two vorns ago. They lived on the prisoner side of the gladiator pit, being forced to fight for their master.
Until they agreed to be gladiators.
Life over here was better. They still had to fight, but their quarters were an improvement over the cells. Plus, they actually got a ration of energon every orn.
Sideswipe didn't want to join the Decepticons though. He knew Sunstreaker didn't either. They might have to take the insignia or be put back with the prisoners soon though. They'd have to fake it.
The twins didn't want to go back to the cells. It would be worse than it was before.
Sunstreaker came in and without a glance at Sideswipe, walked over and sat on his berth.
Sideswipe frowned. He was pretty sure that Sunny was taking some of his matches. The yellow twin definitely was in the pit more than he was.
Is that what Sunstreaker was hiding?
A black helm poked itself into the room. Both twins looked up.
Checking to see that no one saw, Ricochet slunk into their room. He shut the door behind him. The short, visored mech walked over and sat at their desk. He sat silently and studied them for a few kliks.
"What do you want?" asked Sunstreaker, watching him warily.
Sideswipe gave him a quick look. In his opinion, the mech wasn't so bad. Ricochet was a bit nicer than some of the other gladiators.
And he somehow was involved in the plot to help the neutrals and Autobots escape.
Sunstreaker wasn't quite sure if he trusted him yet. Ricochet, one of the top mechs in this pit, had a lot of authority. And seemed to have other jobs besides just announcer and sometimes fighter.
Sunstreaker was a little wary he was spying on them. For the other higher ups.
"There's another meeting," Ricochet said, answering the yellow twin. "Different place this time. Someone found you."
The twins glanced at each other. That was not good.
"Who was it?" Sideswipe asked.
"Cutthroat," answered Ricochet coolly. His mouth upturned in a slight smirk. "Don't worry, he's been dealt with."
"By?" Sunstreaker said, wondering how the shifty mech had been caught.
He wondered if Ricochet had something to do with it.
The visored mech shrugged. "None of us know for sure. I just heard he was snooping and someone else must have too. His offlined frame was found in one of the tunnels early this orn."
"The someone who killed him probably heard from you. Or was you," Sunstreaker thought with a scowl.
He never liked Cutthroat. But that didn't mean he trusted Ricochet any more for possibly having a hand in taking him out.
"Why would he be down there?" Sideswipe asked, his brow furrowed. "The tunnels don't really go anywhere except across the pits from underneath, right?"
Ricochet shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine. He wasn't where he was supposed to be anyways."
The twins looked at each other.
Getting to his pedes, the ebony mech headed towards the door. "You better be more careful. Next time it might be someone higher up that finds you."
"Like you?" Sunstreaker challenged.
Turning his helm, Ricochet smirked. "Mechling, even if I don't go to the meetings, I know exactly when and where they happen. Nothing goes on in this pit that I don't know about.
"Now remember, I wasn't here."
With that, he opened the door and left.
"So, are we supposed to find this new spot by ourselves or follow him or what?" Sideswipe wondered out loud.
"Usually we just go ask Blindside don't we," Sunstreaker growled. "Let's go."
"Isn't this my match," Sideswipe demanded, crossing his servos as he watched his brother gear up. "You went earlier."
"They're putting me in again," Sunstreaker replied, checking his sword.
"Why?"
"Because I said he is," Redwing growled as he came up behind the twins. "Now do you have any more complaints or can your brother get ready for his fight?"
Sideswipe glared up at the huge red seeker. "Fine."
Sunstreaker stopped to watch as his twin left.
"You wanted this, remember?" Redwing grunted, glaring down at the yellow twin.
"I remember," scowled Sunstreaker.
"If you put me in both my own and Sideswipe's matches, I'll join your gladiators," Sunstreaker said lowly. "If not, I won't fight at all."
Redwing growled. Megatron wanted this youngling to fight and he knew it. So did Sunstreaker.
"And what if I say no. Your twin will be left by himself. You'll be offlined if you refuse to fight," the seeker said.
If he could use Sideswipe to persuade Sunstreaker to fight...
Sunstreaker shook his helm stubbornly, crossing his servos. "Megatron wants me. He wouldn't be pleased if I didn't fight."
"Fine," snapped Redwing. "Hope you know what you're getting yourself into."
Sunstreaker did. He was saving his twin.
Or so he hoped.
He had to keep him out of the pit as much as he could, he didn't want his happy, energetic brother to witness any more of the horrors of the pits.
He'd have to close part of their bond too then.
"Alright," Redwing hissed. "We have a deal. You'll fight your own matches and some of Sideswipe's. If he doesn't fight at all, he's useless to us."
Sunstreaker reluctantly nodded. "Don't tell him."
The red flier shrugged. "I doesn't matter to me. As far as I'm concerned, he can be blind to the whole thing. Go back to your cell, we'll move you two next orn."
The yellow twin walked back down the tunnel that led to where his cell was located. Redwing followed and unlocked the cell for him.
Sideswipe looked up as Sunstreaker walked in, a confused expression on his face.
Something was wrong.
Redwing locked the cell and left. Sunstreaker sat down in the corner, pulling his legs up and resting his servos on them. He buried his faceplate in his hands.
Sideswipe felt a strange hollowness in his spark. He sat still, trying to figure it out. Sunny didn't seem to be feeling well either.
"Sunny? Are you okay?" the red twin asked, moving closer to his brother. He couldn't feel any emotions through their twin bond.
That was weird.
"Yeah," came the only response.
Outside the gate, Sunstreaker could hear Ricochet announcing the fight. The yellow twin put a firm wall up in the twin bond. He had a bad feeling about this fight. He didn't want Sides to see or feel it.
Sunstreaker's name was called and the gate in front of him opened. He strode out and the crowd started cheering wildly.
The bright yellow youngling didn't hear them. He was distracted by his opponent.
Who was one of the biggest, meanest looking Decepticon he'd ever seen.
"Begin!" Ricochet yelled before leaving the pit.
The Decepticon charged, intent on squashing Sunstreaker like an insect.
Sunstreaker bolted. He had to figure out this thing's weak spots and take him down quickly. Otherwise, it would get him first.
The Decepticon moved surprisingly fast for his size and chased Sunstreaker. His weapon was a sword almost as tall as the twin. He had battle scars, but they were old. The 'copter wasn't a prisoner, the youngling realized.
He was a new fighter.
Sunstreaker paused once he got far enough away. The crowd around him laughed because he'd ran.
"I'd like to see them laugh if they were down here alone with this 'Con," Sunstreaker thought.
Sideswipe watched the fight through the bars of the gate. His indigo optics were wide open as he looked at the big Decepticon chasing his brother.
The red twin wasn't usually allowed to watch his brother's matches. Redwing hadn't seemed to notice him walk past him. Now, the seeker was in his usual spot by the pit's edge.
Sideswipe winced as the big Decepticon caught Sunstreaker and flung him across the pit. The yellow twin landed with a loud thud.
"Get up. Sunny, get up," Sideswipe whispered desperately.
Sunstreaker didn't move.
The Decepticon advanced slowly, his mouth in a grim line. He didn't seem to find any glee in beating up a youngling.
When he was in reach, Sunstreaker moved. The mechling rolled to his pedes, slashing the 'Con's knee joints with his sword. He then, dodged away out of reach, running behind the 'Con to do the same thing to the back of his knee joints.
Sideswipe vented a sigh of relief.
The fight had been going on for some time. Sunstreaker was doing his best, but his opponent was good. Really good.
Sunstreaker fed on violence it seemed, and he was good at dishing it out. One of the youngest gladiators, he relied on skill and speed against those bigger than him.
This mech, was big. He was also very skilled. And fast.
Sunstreaker was getting tired, Sideswipe could see it. He was also frustrated that he hadn't gotten a good strike at his opponent yet.
The Decepticon had got Sunstreaker several times. The yellow twin was bleeding from many various wounds all over his frame.
He went for the Decepticon, not noticing the big hand coming for him.
"Sunstreaker!" Sideswipe yelled, trying to warn him. He was too late.
The Decepticon hit Sunstreaker in the helm, dazing the mechling. Then, he kicked the youngling to the ground, picked him up, and threw him again.
Sunstreaker hit the wall and landed in a crumpled heap.
"Sunstreaker!" Sideswipe screamed. He knew he was out cold. Sideswipe had to help his twin before that monster got to him.
The red mechling yanked on the gate. It wouldn't open.
Sideswipe spun, his optics darting around for something to pry the dumb gate open.
Spying a large battle-axe, he lunged for it.
"Hold on, Sunny," he grunted as he shoved the edge of the weapon underneath the gate and pushed against it. "I'm coming!"
Ricochet watched as the Decepticon steadily approached the fallen Sunstreaker. He willed the yellow youngling to get up, but he didn't move.
"Come on, youngling. Ya gotta move," the mech thought. His optics watched the twin from behind his visor for any movement at all.
There was none.
Blackout was almost on him. Ricochet shuttered his optics. He couldn't watch the youngling offline.
He'd let another youngling down.
Suddenly, a red blur hit the Decepticon, screaming in rage. The surprise and force of the blow combined knocked Blackout over, sending the massive flier to the ground.
Ricochet opened his optics at the sound. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear.
The visored mech couldn't help but grin as Sideswipe tore into the Decepticon. How the red twin had managed to get himself out, he wasn't sure.
Below him, Sunstreaker started to stir. He saw his brother and got up as quick as he could, staggering to his pedes.
Blackout tossed Sideswipe away and he landed hard. The red twin let out a small cry of pain.
Something in Sunstreaker snapped.
Poor Blackout didn't know what happened.
Ricochet walked into the pit, a bounce in his step.
The red and yellow twins had their opponent down. One had a death grip around his neck. The other held a sword just about where the Decepticon's spark chamber was.
Once Sideswipe came onto the scene, the fight had quickly ended.
Blackout really got his tailpipe kicked by the twins.
The crowd was going crazy. They knew the twins were lethal in battle, but seeing them fight together was on a totally different level. They loved it.
"The winners are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe!" Ricochet yelled through his comm connected to the speakers.
Unbelievably, the noise in the pit got louder with those words. The twins got off of Blackout, sending him one more glare before walking to Ricochet.
The black mech grabbed one of each of the two taller youngling's arms. He raised them upwards, the crowd chanted the twins' names.
"Good job you two," Ricochet said lowly after shutting of his comm. He let go of the twins. "Get yourselves to medbay and then go rest."
The twins did as they were told. Sideswipe half dragged the exhausted Sunstreaker out of the pit.
Blackout sat up, scowling after them. He hadn't expected any of that.
It seemed that those two fought better together.
Sideswipe hoped that Sunstreaker realized that. If not, Sides would have to convince him that they were better being together.
He just hoped that the gladiator pits didn't break them any farther apart.
Little did either twin know what would befall them before they would break free.
The terror twins finally make an appearance!
Disclaimer: The usual. Oh, and Iron Blade is my brother's oc. He kindly lets me use him in my stories.
Thanks for reading!
Credit Song: How It Ends - Beth Crowley