7. Transforming
Backwards Time Skip - Cybertron
Purple. It clashes horribly with his own coloring. Sunstreaker reaches up and scratches at the new decal, all sharp points and slanted lines. They really should come up with something better. He's already half-turned and opened his mouth to say so when he catches himself. The mech standing next to him, a short, bulky model with over-sized shoulder brackets who is not Sideswipe, looks up and lifts and optic-ridge.
"What're you looking at?" he says.
Sunstreaker chuffs and looks away.
Stupid Sideswipe.
He'd come around. He had to. Only four orns and Sunstreaker can feel the link between them starting to strain. It's not bad now, but the longer they're apart, the worse it will get and Sunstreaker's discomfort will be mirrored by his twin.
He'll come around.
The transport lurches beneath him and he tightens his hold on the cable ring attached to the wall. It doesn't help much. His unit is packed in so tight that it's impossible to even sit down. He can feel his fellow Decepticons moving around him. With that many mechs crammed into such a small space it didn't take long for the temperature to rise to uncomfortable levels. Half the mechs on board are already running coolant fans.
Sideswipe is a fool. The Autobots stand no chance against Megatron and his new Decepticon army. They are sentimental and weak. They have no taste for battle, for glory. His errant twin has no business being with such lesser creatures. He's better, made for better than that, even if he is a giant slag-head with a stupid grin.
He'll come around.
According to his chronometer they've been in the air for eight breems. The transport rocks again and Sunstreaker is mashed against the wall as something large falls against him.
"Watch it!" he snarls and lashes out. His fist connects with something, knocking the weight off of him. He hears a surprised grunt but he's too busy twisting around to inspect the damage to see who makes it. He hisses a little when he finds the small scrape across his left shoulder. It will take at least half of an orn to fill in. "Clumsy slag-sucker."
He hears a rumbling whine and suddenly the other Decepticons are pressing themselves against each other, away from him, leaving a very small open space.
Sunstreaker turns and sees why.
The other mech must have been some sort of heavy-transport worker because he stands almost an entire metra taller than Sunstreaker and about twice as wide.
"You want to repeat that, mini-bot?" he says and Sunstreaker can feel the vibration of his vocalizer through his chassis.
"I said to watch it you ugly pile of scrap," he says
The larger Decepticon rumbles, shifting his bulk in closer. "You got corroded processors or something? Because that sounds a lot like a deactivation request to me."
Sunstreaker knows that any drone with a functioning logic chip can see that the hulking monstrosity stands no chance. He's got too much mass. He'll be slow and all that thick armor still leaves open spots around the joints. It has to, otherwise the mech wouldn't be able to move.
He's nothing if not observant to details.
"Why don't you go back and wait with the rest of these worthless trash. You're outmatched," he says.
The Decepticon's optic-covers lower. The fool is going to do something stupid.
"You know, I don't think we really need you around, so just hold still while I—"
And the bigger Decepticon lunges.
Of course, by that point Sunstreaker has already taken a step back and turned and that over-sized arm shoots past, blunted fingers closing on empty air. The Decepticon wastes no time and sweeps his arm towards him, probably intending to pin him against the crowd, but Sunstreaker reaches out and hauls himself up, engaging his wrist blades.
The armor is thin at the joints and the Decepticon howls when Sunstreaker slips his blades into the seam at the elbow and twists. But then he starts to thrash and Sunstreaker finds himself flying through the air and smashing into the roof. He falls, his left shoulder takes the brunt of it. He grunts and picks himself up and starts to turn to really do some damage when something else hits him hard and slams him against the deck.
What?!
But it isn't the monstrosity pinning him down. It's another mech, this one a deep, navy blue.
"Stop," the Decepticon says.
"The frag I will! Get off, you—"
Sunstreaker's next sentence is cut off when the arm closest to his head shifts back and a bright white column of a burning magnesium blade pops out.
"I said 'stop'."
Sunstreaker can feel the heat of that blade on the side of his face. If the blue mech wants to, he can cut straight through Sunstreaker's body in the time it takes to stand. So he does something he rarely does and obeys.
The blue mech waits a moment, orange eyes staring, before the blade dissolves and his fingers slide back into place. He stands, offering Sunstreaker a hand, but Sunstreaker just glares and picks himself up. The blue mech shrugs and turns to where the over-sized monster who started the whole thing is standing, nursing his leaking arm.
"Estimated arrival time is one breem. Save your… anticipation until then."
The blue mech eyes both of them for a moment longer before turning and slipping back into the throng of spectators.
Slag face, Sunstreaker thinks and fingers the new dent on his back. Bulky is still glaring at him and Sunstreaker sneers and deliberately turns away.
The whole transport is shaking now and the vibrations of the engine change pitch to a low thrum. He can hear the thoomp! thoomp! of artillery fire outside. This is it. His first actual battle as a Decepticon soldier. For a small moment he wonders if he'll see Sideswipe out there and what he'll say if he does. He considers opening a channel to him.
Not until that fragger comes back and apologizes.
His gimbals are reading a fast drop in elevation. Around him, the air is buzzing and arms and shoulders are shifting as weaponry comes online. Sunstreaker brings up his new, shoulder-mounted missile launchers.
Lower… lower. New sounds, higher-pitched screeches and a low cacophony of what he thinks might be vocalizers, mechs screaming. He hopes that Sideswipe isn't down there. He looks down to the still-gleaming purple decal. It really is a bad color. Someone ought to redesign the thing.
Sideswipe…
But Sideswipe isn't there and Sunstreaker turns to face the transport doors as they jolt to a landing.
Sunstreaker, Elita One, blood shifter, and Thing With No Talent all get internet cake! I hope this chapter clears up the "Where's Sunstreaker? Is he dead?" questions.