Switchshade had known since he had been only a sparkling that those who could not fight and had no protectors died. It was the natural way of things. His sire had died before he was even fully formed, and his carrier had passed not long after his birth. Surprisingly, it had been Soundwave, of all mechs, who had taken in the quiet little grounder, when Ravage brought the tiny sparkling home from off the streets as if he were a trophy. The ex-gladiator had for reasons unknown refused to turn the tiny sparkling away, and it was not for many vorns that the mech realized how truly remarkable it was that Soundwave had chosen to take him in. In recent vorns, Switchshade recognized that, as a carrier to a host of cassettes, Soundwave would have had great difficulty in denying his caretaking programming when faced with a helpless sparkling. Truly, only in the hands of a seeker would he have been safer.
He grew, and learned, and adopted many mannerisms of his guardian and his clade, including the tendency to be silent whenever possible, although the mech had never sworn a vow of silence as Soundwave did early on. It was really only a survival mechanism as of late, as angering Megatron was unwise in the extreme, and often all it took to avoid his ire was to complete one's work and to keep one's mouth shut.
Stellar cycles passed, and as one by one, the cassettes fell to the war, Switchshade mourned in his own way, never making a move to try to share grief with Soundwave, knowing his pain was far greater at the losses than Switchshade's could ever be. The slender mech had never been anything but fair and gentle with him, but the spymaster wasn't the most affectionate of mechs at the best of times, and so Switchshade had withdrawn to grieve privately at each loss of mechs that he would have considered almost siblings. The dual loss of Rumble and Frenzy, especially, had taken its toll. Now, Switchshade worked closely with Laserbeak frequently on reconnaissance, and though it was rather unnecessary most of the time, he handled communications amongst the drones and the lowest of the decepticon army. Whenever he had a mission with Laserbeak, however, he found he had become almost ridiculously overprotective of the casseticon, which she let him know her displeasure of in no uncertain terms.
Although Switchshade had been an officer from fairly early on, he had always managed to fly fairly low on the radar, and for the first majority of the war, he drew very little attention to himself. Megatron himself took no notice of him whatsoever beyond that he was one of his troops, and that his unshakeable loyalty to Soundwave meant that his loyalty to him was secure. However, after Cybertron fell, and Starscream began to be beaten by Megatron for his failings, (and sometimes for failings not his own), Switchshade noticed, and his weak spark would not allow him to stand idly by and do nothing. The rage and hatred in Megatron's spark began to poison the once clever and passionate if ruthless mech, and warped and twisted him into something unrecognizable.
The third or fourth time it happened, the young communications officer could bear the agonized screams no more, and the black mech stepped between the treacherous seeker and the dangerous tyrant, taking a cue from his commanding officer and remaining utterly silent. Megatron had growled animalistically at being interrupted, and Switchshade's deep red optics leveled on the floor of the Nemesis, helm bent in respectful fear, but he stubbornly kept his frame in front of Starscream. His interruption gave the warlord pause, the shock of someone daring to step up actually gave him time to think, and realize that perhaps Starscream was not at fault at that time, after all.
"What is this, Switchshade? You would dare to defy me?!" Megatron's deep voice growled nonetheless, the gray mech angered at the perceived rebellion. The addressed mech trembled, but stood firm, the weak twitching of the broken seeker behind his pedes giving him strength to face the warlord. "Yes, my lord." He finally spoke quietly, his vocalizer wavering and cutting out once. "And yet, you have drawn no weapon against me. Would you allow me to do to you as I have done to Starscream without fighting back?" the warlord demanded.
"I would defy you, in this, my lord, but never would I betray you. Never would I lift weapon against you, and if you choose to punish me for my defiance and insolence, then far be it from me to attempt to resist." Shockingly, rather than merciless wrath poured out upon him for his defiance or heavy fists beating him to the ground, the warlord's response had instead been to laugh, and then to wave him off, granting permission for him to take Starscream to the medbay.
Knockout had patched him up with minimal sarcasm, the severity of the seeker's wounds enough to keep the medic's usual snark at bay for the moment, and then Switchshade brought the SIC to his own quarters, using his comms to ask Soundwave to key open the door, as Starscream was far from capable at the time. He eased the seeker onto his berth, and then posted a guard at his door, a mech he knew from amongst the drones, that he knew could be trusted with the SIC's life, a drone whose designation was ST-3V3, but whom his fellows had affectionately christened 'Steve'.
Starscream had recovered, and life went on, but frequently, whenever Megatron went a bit too far, whenever the beatings were undeserved or extreme, Switchshade would find himself stepping in again and again, optics down, and protecting the volatile seeker in the only way he could. Many days, Megatron would permit him to leave with the seeker in hand. Some, he was feeling less magnanimous, and the communications officer joined the SIC on the floor, badly beaten and covered in his own energon. Still, he was hardly compelled to stop, as he could not deny that, somewhere in his spark, it felt wrong to do nothing. Laserbeak called him weak, and a fool, to give in to such urges. Soundwave, as ever, said nothing, but the disappointed tilt of his helm whenever his subordinate showed up for a shift with dented and marked up armor spoke volumes of his opinion on Switchshade's actions.
Still, beyond the beatings themselves, there were no formal reprimands for his behavior, and so it continued. Starscream himself rarely spoke to Switchshade, or even looked at him unless it was absolutely necessary. He had always followed the SIC's commands as if they were Megatron's himself, and granted him the respect due his position, and so it seemed there was little reason for the seeker to take issue with him. Privately, the dark mech wondered if Starscream was embarrassed at his helping him, when literally every other Decepticon simply ignored what was right before their optics during Megatron's rages. The seeker, it seemed, would not easily let go of his pride, and was unwilling to offer his gratitude, but occasionally Switchshade caught a curious sideways glance from the SIC that spoke volumes. Losing his trine had taken a terrible toll on the seeker, and Switchshade was honestly surprised that he hadn't completely shut down when Thundercracker and Skywarp were offlined. Who was he to judge a mech on how they coped with such terrible loss?
When they had come to earth, Switchshade, possessing a ground frame, scanned the first human vehicle he saw. It was frequently said amongst the drones that Switchshade greatly resembled Knockout in appearance, save for his slightly more slender frame, and the black doorwings that resembled those of the yellow Autobot scout's. Had his colors been primarily red instead of black, however, he likely would have looked enough like the Decepticon medic to pass most human eyes. As it stood, he could hid in shadows almost as well as Soundwave, with his armor being well over 90% solid black, only the silver Decepticon Emblems on his shoulders and the minimal slim blue accents breaking up the dark design.
For so long, he had been content with his place amongst the 'Cons. It had been difficult, in the beginning, to take lives of those unable or unwilling to fight back. Sometimes, he wondered if perhaps he was not meant to be a Decepticon, if so many of their ways sat so ill within his spark, but there was nothing else for him. He had seen the corruption of the Senate, and Megatron's way had seemed wise, at the time. With Soundwave fully supporting the gladiator-turned-warlord, Switchshade had seen no better option. And now, now all that he had had was gone in a nano-second. And for what? A single Autobot, who was more than likely to try to kill him when he awoke regardless? Why? Why would I do this? What have I done?
Cliffjumper felt as if Bulkhead had decided to use him for a punching bag for a few hours, and then took a nap on top of him. Everything hurt, and warnings were flashing all over his HUD in bright letters, warnings of low energon and grave injuries, although secondary messages were attached to several of these, alerting him to the fact that the majority of the most severe external wounds had been messily patched up.
Onlining his optics seemed to take more energy than usual, and when he first tried to look around, everything was blurry. The cocky racer suppressed a groan, manually muting his vocalizer before resetting his optics. This time, he could see, and in the dim light cast by his biolights, he noticed he was in a cave. Glancing around, he immediately tensed up at the realization that he was not alone in the little cave. Not ten human feet away from him, a Decepticon officer sat curled into himself, faceplates hidden in his servos, distinctive all-black frame a giveaway as to his identity. Soundwave's pet.
The Autobots all knew of Soundwave's apprentice, but had only rarely met him in battle, as he was rarely assigned to combat situations. Often, Cliffjumper only ended up fighting drones, or occasionally Megatron himself or one of the other, higher ranking combat officers. They were typically more than eager to spill Autobot energon with their own servos, and it was almost as rare to face the black mech in combat as it was to face Soundwave himself. However, on the rare occasion he did fight, the dark mech's fighting ability could rival Cliff's own, and although he had never been overly antagonistic for a 'Con, Cliffjumper knew that the mech was a present and active threat to his functioning.
The Autobot knew he couldn't just sit there though, and with his injuries any attempt to fight would be unwise, so he decided to hesitantly reach out with his field, trying to obtain a minute amount of notice if the 'Con decided to suddenly attack. However, when his EM field brushed up against the Decepticon's, his field teeked of fear, despair, and confusion in equal measure, as well as no small amount of self-loathing.
"Hey, um, so I never actually learned your name, but… Whoa, easy there!" Cliffjumper held up his servos defensively when the 'Con shot to his pedes, red optics wide with fear and surprise, but instead of attacking, the decepticon backed away rapidly.
"Easy." he repeated. "Clearly, I'm not going to be able to hurt you, here. So why don't you just sit back down, and we can have a little chat, ok? I'll go first. Hi, my name's Cliffjumper. I'm an Autobot, and apparently was just about to get offlined by Starscream when you decided to step in and save me. Which is kind of confusing, to be honest. Not that I'm not grateful!" The mech decided that perhaps he was rambling, but the 'Con tensed tellingly at his last sentence, his optics narrowing. He had refused to return to sit beside him again now that he had spoken, instead choosing to sink to sit with his back against the opposite wall, optics never leaving the Autobot's frame.
Switchshade was startled from his increasingly despairing thoughts by the Autobot's overly cheerful voice, and he startled to his pedes, watching him warily. When he mentioned being grateful, Switchshade couldn't help but tense up again. When decepticons said they were grateful, it was best to quickly and efficiently put them back in their place, before they got the wrong idea and made a dangerous move. Switchshade had enjoyed interfacing as much as the next mech, but his time with the decepticons and during the war had changed how he saw intimacy a great deal, and in an army where any weakness was ruthlessly exploited, he had quickly learned to avoid even a hint of interfacing if he was not entirely alone, and with someone he trusted implicitly. There was no such mech or femme he could trust on this campaign, however, as the only 'Cons he might have been able to trust with such vulnerability were his guardian or the clade, which just felt… wrong. To have a stranger, and an enemy at that, offer, was… concerning. Still, his field did not teek of lust or ill intent, mostly pain, curiosity, and a mild wariness at the time, and the Decepticon reconsidered. The drones were always going on about how soft-sparked the Autobots were. Perhaps they did not take instant advantage of weakness? Perhaps they chose to express their gratitude in… safer ways?
"Cliffjumper…" he allowed the name to roll off his vocalizer, his low and slightly rough voice playing with the syllables. "Cliffjumper" he reiterated, more clearly and quickly that time. He nodded, once. "Your gratitude is unnecessary. I am Switchshade. It will not be safe to emerge from this cavern for at least half a cycle, perhaps a bit more if your self-repair is still attempting to patch up the worst of your wounds. We will likely need to fight our way out, and once we are above ground, you can signal your kind to come and retrieve you."
His piece said, the mech relaxed just enough to lean back against the rocky wall at his back, and he folded his doorwings flat so as to be able to rest his back against it. The Autobot's eyes widened in surprise at the news that he did not intend to harm him in any way, and rather intended to aid in his escape yet further. "Why? Why would you go through all of this trouble just to let me go? Why save me in the first place? Why did you turn on old Screamer?"
Switchshade glanced at his clear blue optics for a moment, before quickly averting his gaze when the Autobot met his optics fearlessly, the aversion a survival habit long-ingrained from the Nemesis. Prolonged optic contact was a challenge. The 'Con, having no answer to any of his questions aside from the spark-wrenching sense of wrongness that he felt every time a similar act had been committed against Starscream, simply shrugged a bit and then crossed his arms. Several kliks passed in silence, but it seemed that silence was ill-suited to this Autobot, for he spoke again.
"So… Switchshade, huh? Pretty designation. It suits you." Cliffjumper grinned flirtatiously, and was surprised to see the 'Con flinch slightly. He shot Cliffjumper a glare, but did not reply. This, of course, did nothing to deter him, and for the rest of the cycle, the Autobot tried to coax a reaction out of the strange decepticon who had saved him. To his surprise, Switchshade showed little interest in anything he attempted, be it flirtation, insults, questions, or jokes. The other mech was clearly distracted by different thoughts, and only responded when asked a direct question. Still, it was a pleasant surprise, to spend so much time peacefully in the same room as a 'Con. Hadn't happened since the beginning of the war, and Cliffjumper was a very social mech. Stuck in a cave, he found himself just talking, about anything and everything that came to his processor. For his part, Switchshade was actually rather courteous, if distant, and the time passed astonishingly quickly.
Switchshade's optics, which had dulled slightly from prolonged inactivity, suddenly brightened and flicked to meet Cliffjumper's when the Autobot unfolded his legs and rose, shaking his frame out a bit as he did so to rid it of lingering stiffness. Warily, Switchshade rose to his pedes as well, standing at nearly exactly the same height as the red Chevy in root mode. Seeing the wariness in his optics, Cliffjumper felt a jolt of mischief run through him, and he suddenly flared his plating, causing the 'Con to drop a pede back half a step as he crouched, preparing for an attack, only to realize that the Autobot was laughing. "Tense, 'Shade?"
Switchshade straightened up again, his engine rumbling once in anger, but he chose not to reply, instead gesturing for Cliffjumper to precede him out of the cave's entrance. The Autobot grinned, bowing mockingly, and obeyed, moving to take point as the 'Con instinctively took up a position slightly behind his left shoulder. They moved silently, Cliff shrugging off the discomfort of a having a long-time enemy at his back, and it wasn't until they were nearly at the surface that the Decepticon suddenly attacked, pinning him to one of the walls. It was pure chance that he managed to recognize Switchshade's field did not teek of aggression or ill intent before his battle protocols could prompt him to respond in kind. The other mech just pinned him there, a black, clawed servo over his vocalizer, the blazing red eyes focused on the huge open cavern up ahead.
Taking a moment to tune his audials in, the Autobot's eyes widened as he heard what Switchshade must have not moments before. Megatron. He was speaking, presumably to Starscream, as the seeker's distinctive voice responded, and Cliffjumper nodded minutely to indicate his understanding to Switchshade, who immediately released him to move a bit closer, the Autobot following without hesitation. Now, they could begin to make out what was being said, and both froze in stunned horror when Megatron mentioned the blood of Unicron.
"Legend tells that it holds the power to revive the dead." The SIC's voice was equal parts awe and shock, and Switchshade narrowed his eyes as he knew what was coming. "We require only a cadaver to be certain. Are you willing to make the ultimate sacrifice?" The warlord's voice was darker and more menacing than Switchshade remembered, which was quite a feat when one considered past experience. Starscream chuckled nervously, backing away, and then spoke the words Switchshade had dreaded.
"That… may not be necessary. If I may, Lord Megatron, I had the most delightful opportunity to vanquish the spark of the Autobot Cliffjumper, but before I could deliver the killing blow, I was stopped. By one of our own, Soundwave's little pet, Switchshade. He betrayed m-us, all Decepticons, and you, my lord, with his treacherous actions. If we find him, I beg you for the honor of extinguishing his spark myself, and then we will have your cadaver, my lord."
A sudden beeping startled both Cliffjumper and Switchshade enough for both to flinch; though the sound was quiet enough not to attract the Decepticon lord's attention thank Primus. Cliffjumper quickly shut off the alert on the life signal tracker that Ratchet had insisted be installed on all their mechs on earth several earth years ago, and then offered a sheepish grin to his companion, who stared at him in distaste. [[What?]] he commed Switchshade on a public channel, but one that had not been used since pre-war times, hoping that none of the drones around got bored and began searching for just such a frequency. [[We must have been too deep in the caves, and it registered as me being offlined. That was the tracker just picking up again. Now, at least, 'my kind' as you put it, will know where to find me.]] The dark mech shook his head, but sent an affirmative ping across the line before shutting it down again to listen, for Megatron was speaking once more.
"Your incompetence astounds me, Starscream. You had one of the Autobots at your very servos, and you still couldn't offline him?" The SIC flinched away, quickly spitting out further excuses and blaming Switchshade once again, and was surprised to see that mercy was to be his that day, for instead of reaching for the seeker to test out the dark energon, Megatron instead leaned over and casually snatched up a passing drone, a burst of panicked static the last sound it would ever make as its spark was suddenly ripped from its chassis by the warlord. "Do not fail me again, Starscream." Megatron warned, before laying down the now-lifeless frame, and immediately shoving the dark energon into the gaping hole in its chassis.
What followed was enough to make Switchshade want to purge, his tanks roiling and flipping inside of him. The drone, (the mech, he had been around them and interacted with them enough to know that they were as sentient as any other mecha, despite the common belief amongst Decepticon high command) suddenly lurched up, its now-purple optics once again full of life, but it was an insane animal madness, no trace of sentience or even intelligence left. The vehicon's mouth hung open, and a series of screeching clicks and moans sounded, as it instantly lunged to try to bite at Megatron. "This is your plan?" Starscream screeched, whatever else he might have said was lost to the pair who still hid several paces away, drowned out by the enraged and mindless shrieking of the creature that had once been a vehicon.
Megatron had easily caught the creature by the throat, and threw it from him violently. It instantly rose, but instead of returning to the warlord, it turned on its fellows, tearing two of them to shreds in seconds. Then, it once again tried to attack the warlord, only to be sliced in half by one of his deadly blades, and the pieces fell deep down into one of the caverns below. Even then, even as the two separate pieces of the mech fell, it still screeched and shrieked and growled as it fell.
"There, Starscream. There lies the indestructible seed of my army. The ultimate weapon." The warlord's voice made Switchshade shudder again. "Once I can control it."