What's this? Another new story? Do I need to start another one when I have a whole bunch of unfinished ones on the go? Nope. Am I gonna start this one anyways? You bet!
But what can I say, the plot bunnies attack and I gotta write the good ones. Or at least I hope this is a good one..
This'll be mainly a shattered glass version of my universe which is mainly TFP. But with a little bit of G1 stuff mixed in.
Hope you enjoy!
Chapter One
"Where's my intelligence officer?" the Autobot leader bellowed angrily.
Hesitating, his two bodyguards shared a glance.
The white and black one, the more favoured of the twins, was the one who dared to speak.
"Which one, Sir?"
The self-declared Prime tapped his clawed digits on the arm of his throne. "Who do you think? The older one!"
Jazz opened his mouth again to answer, but the purple and black mech beat him to it.
"Actually," the leader said with a growl, "Get them both in here now!"
The white and black coloured bodyguard bowed low, smirking as he did. "Yes, my liege."
On the other side of the door, the red and white twin sent a glare toward him.
Jazz pretended not to notice, turning and sauntering out of the throne room.
"Sorry, Rico," he sent through their bond. "If ya wanna get the boss' favour, ya gotta be quicker than that."
Soon after, Jazz returned with one of the intel officers following behind him.
The bodyguard entered the room, neatly bowed, then stepped back to his post beside the door.
Ricochet glanced at the solo Autobot that had followed his twin, then smirked. "He said get both, didn't he?" he sent through their bond.
"Couldn't find the other one. But this one should know where he is." Jazz replied sullenly.
Optimus Prime ignored what seemed to be a silent conversation between his two bodyguards. Instead, he leveled his dark glare upon the mecha that had been brought before him.
The young mech knelt on one knee and bowed, keeping his helm lowered as he waited.
"Where is your useless brother?" demanded the Prime. "Get up and tell me!"
The purple intelligence officer rose quickly and steadily to his pedes.
"He's out," came the quiet reply. "He should return shortly."
Optimus growled. "He had better be. Another one of his unauthorized missions or a race?"
"A mission, Sir."
"Fine. At least he's doing something somewhat useful," the purple and black warlord snapped.
Continuing, he leaned forward in his seat. "Ratchet has located moving energon. I want you to investigate what the Decepticons are up to. Don't let them see you."
"Yes, Sir. They won't know I am there. I will leave immediately," replied the purple mech swiftly.
"Very well. You had better not fail me. You seekers and special operatives have been lacking as far as performance lately. You are supposed to be my elite team. Not some group of pathetic petrorabbits that get too scared when the Decepticons show up.
"Smokescreen and Ratchet will brief you. Now go!"
The mech dipped his helm again and turned to leave. "Yes, my Lord."
As he strode swiftly out of the throne room, the Prime yelled after him.
"And take your idiot brother with you!"
After the purple mech had disappeared, Optimus Prime settled back into his throne.
"For so called intelligence, they're not very bright," he muttered.
By the doors, his twin bodyguards snickered in response.
Two pairs of optics watched the Decepticons from the nearby cliffside. The mecha below were completely unaware they were being watched, going about their business without the knowledge of what was about to happen.
Their business of which, was mining energon from a large cave they'd cut into the rocky cliffside.
What was about to happen, well, not even the two silent observers were totally aware as they hid among the trees.
Mostly silent observers.
"So, how many was our last count?" the younger of the two asked, helm propped up by his hands as he laid on his tank on the ground.
The older one glanced down to the side, glaring at him.
He had asked that question so many times already.
And had been given almost the same answer.
"Ten," hissed the older one in a whisper. He shuffled slightly, adjusting his crouched position. "Same as the last five times you asked."
"Hmm, if I ask five more times it will be once for each Decepticon," mused the younger, twitching his doorwings in what the other guessed was amusement.
There was a silence, which the older was grateful for.
Unfortunately for him, it did not last.
"An' ya missed one," said the younger one quietly.
The older mecha turned his helm back to his annoying partner. "What? Where?"
Narrowing his optics, the smaller mecha lifted a hand, pointing a digit towards the opposite side of the gorge.
Following the other's line of sight and gesture, the older one searched for the 'Con he'd missed.
On the other side of the gorge, on the opposite cliff, there was a large number of trees. Similar to this side, it would provide more than adequate cover for a few small to medium sized Cybertronians.
Scanning the tree line, the older brother searched for what had caught his little brother's optic.
Or rather, who.
Ignoring the snickering from beside him, he continued looking. If it weren't for the situation, and the mecha beside him, he would think that it was a joke.
However, his younger brother, though he might be a trickster at times, wouldn't make up imaginary enemies to distract him.
"Still haven't spotted-" the younger brother began to ask.
"Shut up," growled the older, not moving his gaze from the opposite side.
"Good thing ya brought me along, big brother. Ya might not have seen the big brute if not."
"The-Prime-commanded-that-you-accompany-me. You-know-what-would-have-happened-if-you-refused. And-that's-the-only-reason-you're-here-kid."
The younger mech rolled his optics. "Yeah. Right. Whatever ya say, big brother. Fact is- "
"Do-you-ever-shut-up?"
"More-than-you."
Practically feeling the smirk coming off his brother, the older one looked harder.
"How can he see the Decepticon? I see nothing!"
As if knowing his internal question, the younger reached up to the side of his helm and tapped near his audio receptor. The older watched as a partially translucent visor spanned his brother's faceplate, turning red as he tapped the spot again.
Letting out a huff, he turned away, back to the cliffside. "That's cheating and you know it, kid."
His companion smirked, shaking his helm slightly. "I-actually-did-see-him-before. I-just-want-to-check-if-there's-any-more-in-the-mine-itself."
"Right," came the response, tone suggesting he may or may not believe his younger brother's claims.
He watched as he rose to a crouch beside him, keeping watch on the Decepticons out of the corner of his optic.
The younger brother scanned the ground around them slowly, turning around as he did.
"Well?" asked the older impatiently.
"Same number as you counted go in."
"See-we-don't-need-your-fancy-visor-and-it's-heat-sensor-function."
With a quick tap to the side of his helm, the visor dissipated, leaving the red optics staring at his brother completely visible. The smirk playing on his faceplate never changed.
"You're-just-jealous-I-got-cooler-stuff-than-you."
"You-mean-stole. And-I-am-not."
"Really? I don't believe you. And it wasn't stealing if it was my share."
Finally spotting the Decepticon, the older sibling ignored his brother. "I see him."
Rolling his optics, the other mecha gave a small, exasperated sigh. "Took ya long 'nough. Though, he is really quite hidden. Blends in."
"That's Breakdown, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Don't worry, the big lug hasn't seen us. Yet."
"Good."
"So, mission leader. What now? Call for backup or pickup?"
"Weren't you listening when we were being briefed?"
"Some. But the old rust bucket was going on and on and I got bored. And stuff is distracting."
"Seriously? He didn't even talk that long."
"Yeah, but when he's talking, everything is distracting."
"You're distracting."
"Why thank you! That's kind of why they use me to make distractions and stuff on the battlefield. Cause I'm good at what I do," the younger brother said in a mock ecstatic whisper.
"You sure are good at never shutting up."
"Says the guy who talks three times as much as me."
"I do not."
The younger of the two simply gave him a look to say, "Really?"
Which the older one ignored.
"I will call base."
"For?"
The older rolled his optics and lifted his hand to his audio.
"Autobot Outpost Omega One. This is Blurr. We have a visual on all Decepticon activity currently in the area and are requesting further instructions."
"So formal," muttered the younger brother as he rolled his optics.
Blurr listened quietly as whoever bothered to pick up the comm talked.
"Yes, we have a helm count. No, just one warrior, ten troopers," he answered.
His younger companion flopped back onto the grass with a dramatic sigh. Turning over on his back, careful of his sensitive doorwings, he closed his optics.
Blurr frowned down at him, but replied to the mech on the other side of the comm as normal. "Yes, Sir. Blurr out."
After cutting the connection, the older speedster reached down to swat his younger brother in the helm. Before his hand could get within a foot of his face, the younger mecha's hand shot up and grabbed him by the wrist.
Tugging his servo against the vicelike grip, Blurr scowled.
"Steeldust," he hissed. "Let go."
Steeldust, who hadn't bothered to open his optics when he'd caught Blurr, did as he was told. Putting his hand back behind his helm, he replied curtly, "Don't want your servo dented, don't touch my helm."
"How did you even know what I was going to do?" snapped Blurr, rubbing his wrist.
The younger brother smirked, cracking one ruby optic open to look at him. Holding up a hand, he extended two digits.
"One, yer noisy when ya move. Two, yer predictable."
With a glare, Blurr swatted the offending hand away. "Am not. And what is with that accent?"
Opening his optics fully, Steeldust arched an optic ridge. "Whaddya-mean? Ma-accent-comes-wit'-me. Born-an'-raised-in-Polyhex- 'member? Same-as-you."
The older brother rolled his optics. "I know that. You tend to slip into it on occasion but not usually. Why now?"
With a quick, fluid motion, Steeldust rolled to his pedes. Shooting a glare over his shoulder at his brother, he snapped a reply.
"Ya-know-what-those-occasions-are. Don't-pretend-like-ya-don't-know-why-Ah-pick-it-up- 'gain."
Blurr was silent, staring back up at his younger brother. He did know why his brother's accent slipped in and out.
He himself never had one. Their carrier however, had been from Polyhex. While both brothers had taken more after their sire who had been from Iacon, Steeldust had at some point in his sparklinghood, picked up some of their carrier's accent.
But Blurr knew he never used it. Not unless-
"What-did-our-boss-say?" interrogated Steeldust, jerking Blurr from his thoughts.
Regaining focus, the older brother immediately stood. He began walking deeper into the trees, talking quietly over his shoulder as he did.
"We go in."
As his younger brother heard this, his optics narrowed. His doorwings twitched in excitement. "Spy or destroy?"
Blurr chuckled under his breath. "Aren't those two things one in the same?"
Jogging several paces forward to catch up, Steeldust fell in step with his taller brother's long strides.
He shrugged as he walked. "Sometimes. But you know what I meant."
Blurr sent him a knowing, wicked smile.
"Of course."
Returning the grin, his brother rolled his optics again. "So. Which is it? Or have ya not figured it out yet?"
"First, we spy-" Blurr began, looking to his little brother expectantly.
Steeldust's face split into a sinister grin, one even more frightful on a faceplate so young as his.
He finished Blurr's statement in a hiss as they disappeared completely amongst the trees.
"Then, they die."
"They've returned, Sir," Ricochet said with a scowl.
The bodyguards had received a comm from the Autobot manning the groundbridge. They both knew that the pair would be heading to the throne room to report.
Ricochet and the younger of the two speedsters did not get along.
"Very good," sneered the Prime, settling back into his throne. "Let them in once they arrive. We will see what they have to say."
Both Jazz and Ricochet knew what the Prime would do if they returned with nothing.
Two sets of swift, near silent pedesteps approached.
Following Jazz's lead, Ricochet opened his side of the set of doors.
It was pointless to drag things out by waiting for the mecha to knock when they already knew who was coming and the Prime had already ordered them in.
The elder brother strode in, nodding to the two bodyguards. He then dropped to one knee; helm bowed respectfully.
The younger one followed momentarily, sending an icy glare at Ricochet before copying his sibling.
"Rise," growled the Prime, gesturing with his hand.
After they had obeyed, he took a moment to look them over.
Blurr's expression was blank, not betraying how the mission went. His frame was mostly clean, with only a few splattering of energon that the warlord knew didn't belong to him. He stood at attention in perfect form.
Steeldust on the other hand, was a totally different case. He stood relaxed, with one pede to the side and servos crossed. A devious smirk played on his faceplates while his optics shone with an off glint. His frame was half his normal red paintjob, half blue with the energon of his enemies.
The Prime grinned down at them, leaning forward.
"Blurr, I assume from your appearances, particularly your brother's, that the mission went well?"
The older brother nodded once. "Yes, Sir. We gathered what data was to be found, then took the mine."
"Bulkhead and a few others are transporting the energon as we speak," added Steeldust casually, meeting the warlord's gaze evenly. "No survivors except for one that got away."
Both flinched when the Prime pounded a fist on his throne.
"Why did you let him get away?" he bellowed.
"He was sent a groundbridge," replied Blurr hesitantly. "We-could-not-follow."
"Sufficiently-suffering-as-we-sent-him-packing-though," Steeldust added quickly, stepping in front of his brother. "All-the-miners-and-other-guards-are-dead."
Blurr resumed speaking. "We-gave-Ratchet-the-collected-data-there-may-be-locations-of- "
"SILENCE!" roared the Prime. "Stop your chattering! If it weren't for the fact that you two are somewhat useful, I'd throw you in the smelter simply for your annoying babble!"
"But, Lord Prime," Steeldust said indignantly. "You asked- Mmph!"
Blurr clapped a hand over his brother's mouth quickly, before he could say anything else.
"Silence!" yelled the warlord. "Since you dare backtalk me, Steeldust, you will be visiting your box for a few days. See if you are so impertinent then."
With a hand motion, the Prime beckoned the bodyguards to come forward. "Take him."
Ricochet reached forward to take Steeldust's servo, but stepped back when the youngling deployed the blade in his foreservo that extended from near his wrist all the way past his shoulder.
"Touch-me-and-I'll-unzip-you," Steeldust snarled, eyeing the red and white mech closely. "Jazz-can-take-me-but-not-you."
"Jazz!" the Prime bellowed. "Take this brat to where he belongs. Give him an extra day for the threat. And you, Ricochet. Do not vex him further."
"Yes, Lord Prime," the twins said in unison. Jazz took a hold of Steeldust, who had put away his blade, and shoved him forward.
Ricochet followed, glaring steadily at the youngling. "As soon as we're out o' hearing range, the brat is gonna get kicked."
Once Blurr and the Prime were alone, the Prime spoke again.
"It would be wise if you gained better control over your brother," he said smoothly. "It would be best if he learned to keep his thoughts to himself."
Blurr bowed his helm. He knew what would happen if Steeldust couldn't hold his glossa. "Yes, Sir."
"I will have Prowl debrief you. Now get out."
The seeker bowed once more, then turned and left.
"I'll-kill-you-Ricochet! I-swear-it!"
Ricochet smirked at the mechling on the other side of the door through the small, barred window.
"Calm down, won't ya?" he said smoothly. "Wouldn't wanna say somethin' ya regret."
He moved back several steps as a red blur hit the door violently and bounced off.
"Ha. Nice try."
"Shut up," snarled Steeldust, returning to the window to glare through it. "Or you'll regret it."
"Try it," returned Ricochet, baring his sharp denta.
Jazz intervened then, putting a hand up. "Rico, stop. Ya'll only rile him up more."
"That's the point."
The brother's glared at each other for several kliks.
"Hit 'em for me, won't ya, Jazz," snarled Steeldust, gripping the bars tightly.
"No, behave yourself and maybe ya can do it herself next time," Jazz replied, turning his attention to the mechling. "When 're ya gonna learn ta keep yer mouth shut."
"I-can't," snarled Steeldust, baring his denta. "Ya-know-I-can't."
"Learn," replied Jazz, turning and walking away. "Or yer gonna get yer self or yer brother killed one day."
Ricochet sent one last dirty look towards Steeldust, then followed Jazz. Shortly, Steeldust heard the slam of the brig door and he was alone.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Steeldust didn't care about the low amount of light. He didn't mind the dark one bit. He'd been raised knowing the cover of darkness was his friend.
It was the silence and small cell that bothered him.
Sitting down in the corner, he pulled out a knife, scraping the wall with the blade.
He hated the screeching noise it made. But he hated the dead silence worse.
With the cameras, higher ranks could keep an optic on him. To him, it seemed like the more noise he made down here, the longer they made him stay.
They didn't seem to care as much if it wasn't his mouth making those noises.
So, scrape, scrape went the knife. Tap, tap went his pedes and digits.
When he got bored of those sounds, he'd pace.
Monotony killed him too though.
Steeldust grit his denta. "I-hate-the-box."
Knockout frowned as his friend complained again.
"I'm fine, Doc. Just let me go."
"No, you're not fine. You will stay here in the medbay where I can keep an optic on you until I say so."
"It's just a couple scratches," protested Breakdown.
Knockout scoffed. "Right. That speed demon tried to stab you several times and missed, but they're just scratches. I don't think I need a welder for scratches"
Breakdown frowned, but didn't protest further.
"Good. Now that that's settled, I need to speak with Megatron. Stay here," Knockout said, giving his friend a look.
"Yeah, sure." muttered the warrior.
Knockout smirked, then strode out of his medbay. Megatron was waiting in the corridor, leaned against a wall.
"How is he?" the leader asked, straightening as the medic approached.
Waving a hand, Knockout replied. "Oh, he'll be fine. Down and resting for a few days at least but he'll live. He's lucky the kid was just playing with him."
"Unfortunate for the others, he wasn't," added Megatron, shaking his helm. "I do not know why Optimus ordered them to kill everyone. It was needless."
Knockout shrugged. "He wanted the mine. Sadly, the miners and guards were in his way."
"It was the two alone?"
"That's what Breakdown said. One of Smokescreen's seekers and the speedster special op."
Megatron frowned. "They're dangerous. We need to make note of that and inform everyone what they're capable of. I do not wish this to happen again."
The medic scoffed. "The younger one isn't called the Speed Demon for nothing. That's the main problem though. They're quick. Hard to catch."
"Capture or catch off guard?"
"Pfft, both. Like I said, Breakdown is lucky."
"Indeed. Tell him I send my regards and that I will visit him later when he's more up to it."
"Thank you, I will."
Megatron dipped his helm in gratitude, then turned and made his way towards the command bridge.
"Optimus must be getting low on energon if he's going after our mines now," he thought. "I will have to get Soundwave to look into how they picked it up. Perhaps a signal jammer got broken."
The Decepticon leader sent a message to the communications specialist as he walked. He wasn't certain if he was on the ship at present, but it needed to be dealt with.
And he also needed to speak with Starscream. Who was either on the command bridge or in the lab with Iron Blade.
"Perhaps I should call an officers' meeting," mused Megatron aloud. Deciding, he sent a message to all officers to meet in an hour.
Or as soon as Soundwave was able to return from wherever he and his minicons had skipped off to.
Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear any thoughts or comments you may have.
