This chapter was both very fun to write, and extremely hard; it was originally going to be one large chapter, but I opted to split it. Plus, I'll be doing up an edited version of what comes next for FF net and those who don't wish to read the explicit chapter.
Kaiju Hakai Mikado means, roughly, Monster Emperor of Destruction, with Mikado being a very old term for Emperor. The Kaiju mentioned will be seen again, but not in this story, and not for a while.
If he were honest with himself, Bluestreak wasn't sure how he'd survived the bombing runs, only to be picked up by a Decepticon group combing the twisted wreck that had once been Pria, knocked offline, then onlined here. 'Here' being the pitforsaken jumble of sound and noise -and were those distant screams?!- that seemed almost like a fabled metal-market of sorts.
He really, frantically, hoped it wasn't. Primus, he was only just past his first megavorn; legally an adult, but still under the care of his Caretakers for another handful of vorn, who'd promised to help set him up on his first date.
He tried to move back, unwilling to risk bringing attention to himself if he stood, but all that got was a rattle of chains and the cold steel of something at his back.
He followed the chains up and up until his doorwings rose in alarm as he found the chains attached to the top of a thick metal pole. Twisting around, he found it sunk deep into the ground, and a glance back up at it confirmed his thoughts. It looked like it could hold eight mecha easily if the chains dangling meant anything, yet it seemed as if he was the only one at this pole.
His tank seemed to roll in horror and he looked down, somehow relieved to know his Autobrand was still there. Thank the Golden Crystals. He wasn't sure what he'd have done if it'd been missing.
Screamed, probably.
He wasn't the only Autobot here though, and he tried and failed, to activate his comms. They didn't feel like anything had been torn out, so either disabled or jammed.
Vocally calling out, he decided after a klik or two of thought, would bring unwanted attention. He had to settle for looking at them from a distance, and what he could see of his fellow Autobots offered some hope.
While they were all chained, they didn't seem to be missing limbs, and some seemed in better condition than others. That had to mean something, right?
The poles holding them were the same as his, though not all of them held eight. Most held one or two, or rarely, four, and Bluestreak tried not to think of what that could mean other than no-one friendly to chat with, curling up on himself with a whimper and yet another rattle of chains. Chains, he realised as he studied them, that had been attached to his wrists in a way as to make transformation impossible.
At least it's not an inhibitor claw, he thought as he looked around some more, following the poles long enough to catch sight of a battered and bleeding Elite Guard in the lurid green thing as well as heavy chains, almost face first in his own energon pooled under him.
Bluestreak tried to ignore it all. This was a stasis dream. A bad one he'd soon wake from, able to seek out his Caretakers, Fallback and her Conjunx, Hypershot, and gain comfort. Maybe they'd go to one of the more exclusive parts of Pria - but not the really exclusive parts; he wasn't that high on the Noble totem pole, closer to the ground than the middle, but they had money, and he certainly wasn't even one of the lowest ranking Tower Nobles.
He'd get the newest shade of grey and red, oggle the latest hunting rifles -both sparked and unsparked- and the newest litters of cybercats, though he'd never get a cyberlion; those were the purview of the Towers only. Then he'd go and find his friends and head to the pictures, or one of the malls, or maybe a hunting range.
Hunting ranges were great; he often wielded a sparked rifle, and they handled like a dream compared to the unsparked. Maybe one day he'd save enough credits to buy one for himself and head to the Praxus War Academy on Cybertron. Maybe, but the war and Decepticons were a distant threat someone else could deal with. He'd likely head to the Civil Academy though, and a sparked rifle would gain him access to the higher tier shooting clubs.
This was a bad statismare and there was nothing wrong in his life.
That illusion shattered as something small and silver cartwheeled its way across the ground closest to him, kicking up dirt and dust as it went.
A Minicon?! Sure, everyone knew the Decepticons had more than half the race slaved to them as power-ups, but seeing one so free... it was almost mindboggling. Almost, because the Minicon was spindly and pointed, possibly of Animatros or Planet X origin, but who knew with the little things. He'd seen Long Arm, Redalert's Minicon, and it had been pointed and jagged too. Yet this one was pure silver with blue optics on stalks; the telltale linkage port on its torso stood out, almost proudly so, and if it wasn't for the iris that covered the connectors and callipers, he'd have thought it unbound. There was no denying who it was, and Bluestreak felt his spark run cold as space.
Frenzy.
One of Soundwave's personal Minicons. Everyone knew who Soundwave and his team were; it was hard not to know, even if it was just names and faces.
Frenzy cartwheeled again before wheeling around and launching himself into the air, coming to rest on the shoulder of a black-and-white shocktrooper.
Even Bluestreak, as disconnected from the war as he was, knew the general build of a shocktrooper. It was like looking at a Praxian Enforcer, scaled up and turned into a dark, pointed nightmare that promised only a lingering, painful death.
Why Frenzy was with it, Bluestreak didn't know and didn't want to know, and when four malevolent red optics turned on him, Bluestreak curled up, shuddering when he heard footsteps headed his way.
No. No. No. No please no he didn't want to be the focus of a killer's attention, let alone Frenzy's.
Chains rattled, and he found himself roughly hauled to his feet, coming face to chest with the Decepticon, arms wrenched painfully above his head as if he were merely a puppet or toy on a wire. A slew of information hit his sensors, the foremost being the dark, cruel feel of the field. The second was a torrent of glyphs, that while he could read them, made little to no sense, as if someone had messed up all the words and run them through a blender, and the only things he could make out were 'six-four-three' and 'to construct with barrels'.
"Wha-"
The Decepticon rumbled, 'field flashing dark amusement and Bluestreak's engine growled. This, he decided, was an affront to his dignity and social standing and he did the first thing that came to mind: he tried, in vain, to land a kick on his captor.
All that got him was aching arms and being held at arm's length.
"You will be fun to break."
That was the first Decepticon he'd understood, and the voice was dark, full of malice and hate and Bluestreak jerked back as much as he could, optics flared in outrage. "I am not a sparked possession!"
The only answer to the question was the Decepticon's claws cupping his face, forcing him to stare up at the faces of the pair. "You'll learn."
And then Bluestreak found himself stumbling back until he slammed against the pole, sliding down with a startled gasp. He blinked a few times, optics automatically focusing on the Shocktrooper and the field that bled cruel amusement.
The shocktrooper said something as it -he- pointed at him, and the Minicon landed in front of Bluestreak with what sounded like a cackle. Thankfully, it didn't approach, even as the Decepticon headed off to the west. To do what, Bluestreak didn't know, but he had a sinking feeling that if this was a metal-market, his fate had just been sealed.
To take his mind off it as best he could, he looked around, trying to see if he could spot any of his friends, or when that failed, something interesting to stare at that wasn't the Minicon.
After a few klicks, his optics fell on what had to be a group of beast-alts. The smallest was a gryphon right out of fantasy novels, except instead of light greys and pale silvers, he was white with gold accents and gold-black wings that flicked now and again. The second was also a gryphon, but white with green-red accents and rust-brown wings, though it seemed to walk ahead somewhat, as if on guard. The last was a blue-white-gold animal he couldn't identify - maybe a dragon, but it looked wrong- with grey wings trimmed in white and red.
Every so often, the largest would nuzzle the smallest or drape a wing over him, as if showing affection.
I wonder who they are, Bluestreak thought as he watched them move through the Decepticons like they owned the place. I thought Hypershot said the Flame of Animatros had declared the planet neutral?
"Kaiju Hakai Mikado."
"Huh?" Bluestreak's head whipped around to stare at the Minicon. He hadn't realised he'd spoken aloud. "I- Kaiju?"
As in, the things from Cybertron's Rust Sea's Dead Zone that attacked trader ships?
"Yes. Kaiju," the Minicon said in stilted Standard, as if that answered anything when it didn't, nothing like the rapid-fire talking from before.
"You... understand me?" He thought Decepticon Minicons only understood their masters, or so the films he'd seen claimed.
"Littlelittle," Frenzy said with a shrug and Bluestreak could only assume he was telling the truth. "Autobutts speakity weirdi."
"We do not! I'll have you know Standard Neo Cybex is-"
"No'm'Standard," Frenzy said with a hiss as he -it- crept closer.
Bluestreak recoiled with a rattle of chains as if Frenzy were Soundwave himself. He might as well as be in the young Autobot's mind, for everyone knew where one of the Minicons was, Soundwave inevitably showed up.
Frenzy's grin was nasty, but thankfully he stayed where he was, and soon enough, his attention was on the approaching shocktrooper.
Frenzy didn't even wait until the Decepticon came to a stop, racing up his side and perching on his shoulder, chattering a million miles away in a language that, even if Bluestreak had understood, he'd be hard-pressed to follow. But that clearly wasn't an issue for the black-and-white, who seemed... amused, but also leery as he -it- glanced over its shoulder in the direction of the so-called Kaiju Mikado.
Then, it shrugged, and said something to the Minicon, offering it -
Was that a collar?!
"That fragger collared you?" Sunstreaker exclaimed, loud enough to startle Bluestreak into standing, optics wide, 'field once against pulled tightly in on himself. "Uh-" Bluestreak said shakily as he slowly slid down, both hands clamped protectively around the back and sides of his neck. "Y-ea. It-"
"Take it easy, you don't have to continue if you don-"
"I... I want to. I have to. You d-don't. N-Not him. I-"
"Invent, Bluestreak," Sideswipe said as he scooted back a few steps so he wasn't crowding the young mecha.
"Ok," Bluestreak squeaked, flaring vents to dump heat and quell the rising panic.
Sideswipe watched him, ready to move away, or towards, the young Noble. Though it seemed he was fine where he was, and as Bluestreak's inventing slowly levelled out, Sideswipe dragged a hand down his face.
/Slagging pits. Do you think-/ Primus, there was a word for Decepticons and it fragged up in spark and coding. Plus there was no doubt in his mind that whoever this Decepticon had been, had known what a Noble looked like.
/If he's under a mega, I'm going to find Pointblank and shove his head up a canon./
/Peacemaker will-/
/What's he gonna do, beep at me?/ Sunstreaker shot back over the twin-bond. /What's the point of a psych on base if he ain't doing his job?/
/I don't think he knows about Blue.../ Sideswipe sent back as he exhaled softly, scooting a little closer to the Noble. "Bluestreak, how...old are you?"
"One-em four-vee. Why?"
/Shoving Pointblank up a barrel and firing; he had to have known, he'd have a small file on Bluestreak-,/ Sunstreaker growled over the twin-bond at the same time as Sideswipe asked: "Do you know Pointblank?"
"Uh...?" Bluestreak blinked. "Y-yes?"
"You should ta-"
"No." Bluestreak shook his head and abruptly latched onto Sideswipe's arm with enough force to drag a wince out of the frontliner. "No."
"Okay, okay," Sideswipe whispered, resigning himself to being clung to by someone other than his twin. "Do... you want to move somewhere more private?"
"Um..." Bluestreak's optics darted around, flicking from Sunstreaker to Sideswipe then back to the golden twin.
"Sunny's just to keep watch over us, yea?" Sideswipe soothed. "If you really want, he'll go away."
Not far, but enough to be out of sight.
"No... i-it's.. ok. I'd... I'd like somewhere private," the young Noble said as he stood yet again.
"Ok," Sideswipe said, standing with Bluestreak.
It only once they'd settled into an unused dorm room, Sunstreaker standing guard, that Bluestreak picked up his story again. "He - Y-yes. He collared me. Or, well, Frenzy did-"
He really wasn't sure how the Minicon went from the shocktrooper to his shoulder to wrapping the thick red collar around his neck and locking it in place - and it hurt, like something had decidedly clamped down and anchored itself around his spinal strut-, all within half a klik.
Chained or not, Bluestreak still had general movement, and the Minicon was flung across metal-market as hard and as far as Bluestreak could manage.
Frenzy hit the ground with a shriek of metal and cussing, and for a brief nanoklik Bluestreak hoped he'd killed the thing. Then Frenzy picked himself up in one fluid motion, spitting the worst of the worst insults at him in binary, while the black-and-white Decepticon hissed something as he advanced.
The only thing Bluestreak understood was 'Soundwave'.
His optics widened as he pressed himself against the pole. No. No. No. "NO!"
"Then," the Decepticon said, understandable once again as he loomed over the shaking Autobot, "don't repeat that."
"I won't I won't-" Bluestreak started, only to find a clawed hand pressed crushingly against his vocaliser, the metal of the collar digging in.
The threat was clear enough.
"Be silent."
Bluestreak clicked his vocaliser off with an engine whimper, pulling his already minuscule 'field in even further when the claws trailed down over his front and lingered on his Autobrand before the Decepticon stood.
Chains rattled as they were fiddled with and then Bluestreak found himself yanked up yet again, like some sort of toy. In a flash, a chain was added to the collar, and Bluestreak bristled, engine spluttering to life in protest.
Protest that was silenced with a sharp, painful yank followed by an electric shock that had him on his knees with a shriek as he clawed at the collar in a futile attempt to remove or dislodge it.
"A good look," the shocktrooper said lazily, something else following in that language that Bluestreak was starting to hate.
"Go to the pits!" Primus, his Caretakers would have his doorwings and chevron if they heard him speak like that. Twice over if they heard what he said next. "Pria smelt you!"
Both Decepticon and Minicon snorted. "That all you know?"
It was all he could think of, but he wasn't given the chance to reply. Another yank found him back on his feet. Feet he'd barely found when the chains yanked him forward as his captors started to lead him away. He had no choice but to follow, stumbling over his feet and almost ending up on his face to the laughter of both Decepticons.
"Stumbity ananand get draaaaged," Frenzy chittered in what was possibly the worst Neo Cybex he'd ever heard, before turning back to the Shocktrooper and chittering something, complete with gestures that looked more than a little crude and lewd. Bluestreak's doorwings twitched as he followed, trying to keep up with the long strides and sharp yanks whenever the Shocktrooper thought he wasn't fast enough.
Primus, I wasn't built with long legs, he wanted to scream, but he managed to think better of it.
The destination turned out to be the Shocktrooper's quarters, and no sooner had the code been entered and the chains dropped, Bluestreak found himself shoved in face first, captors following, into, in all honestly, a dump that looked like it hadn't seen a cleaning crew, or at least a cleaning bot in a very long time. It was messy, filthy, and he was sure those cubes over there were at least three megacycles old.
He stared in disbelief. He was going to be living here?! It didn't look fit for glitchmice!
"Ugh-" He managed out, chains rattling as he covered his mouth to keep what little was still in his tank remaining there. "This is - ugh."
He attempted to move away, only to find the shocktrooper at his back, the slagger's 'field amused once more. "I'm almost insulted, Noble."
Bluestreak's optics widened and he jerked away, only to find that as soon as he did, claws closed around the hinge of his doorwings, sharp claws digging into the delicate joints. "No-!"
"Almost," the Decepticon continued, as if talking about the weather of all things. "Name?"
Name? "W-Why-"
"Name. Or I give you one, Autobot."
He must have hesitated, as the claws started to twist, and Bluestreak arched forward in an effort to ease the pain. "B-Bluestreak- Please-"
"To move very fast, huh?" The claws stilled and the Autobot got the impression the Shocktrooper was considering something, Frenzy chattering away from time to time.
Next thing he knew, he was forcefully shoved towards the mess, the shocktrooper growling something.
"I-" Bluestreak started, only to find himself shoved again.
"Name's Barricade," -so that was what 'to construct with barrels' meant- "but you'll be calling me-" a word Bluestreak did not understand, "-got it, slave?"
Mutely, he nodded, only to squeal as the collar activated. "Y-Yes!"
"Yes, what?" Barricade snarled, and Bluestreak twisted around, ready to attempt to defend himself - assuming he didn't tangle himself on the chains still attached to him- only to be shoved yet again. He stumbled back a step or two, throat working as it tried to repeat the word he'd been given. It took him several tries until he had it to an 'acceptable level'.
"Good," Barricade continued before barking an order at Bluestreak as he pointed at something behind the newly made slave.
Bluestreak didn't dare ask for a translation as he turned to follow where the claw pointed; not when it was clear he, a minor Noble by assembly, was to clean it up.
/Hey, go get energon will you?/ Sideswipe sent over the bond. /He needs a break and more energon./
/Sure,/ Sunstreaker muttered, casting a glance at his twin, and the curled up, miserable form of Bluestreak.
"Hey, Bluestreak?" Sideswipe said with a gentle pulse of his em-field.
"Hmm?" The ex-slave mumbled, blinking up at Sideswipe.
"We're going to have a break, and you need energon."
"But- I-" He was fine; he'd had his ration, and he'd turned off those warning systems almost immediately.
Sideswipe shoot him a look then sighed. Why them. Why couldn't Pointblank be doing this? Stupid question and he knew the answer. "Your frame's shaking like you're into reserves. You need it. Refuel, then story."
"Ok," Bluestreak nodded, doorwings hitched down, resigned to his fate, it seemed. Then he latched onto Sideswipe again, and the red-and-black frontliner sighed. He had to fight to keep the hope alive that the worst hadn't happened, that Bluestreak had only been a cleaning bot.
Yet, his spark - that very same spark that had them both horrified by what they'd heard so far- told him the worst was yet to come.