Author's Note: I am evil. I admit that. Does anyone else think that if Bumblebee and Soundwave were on the same side and Bumblebee hadn't killed his pets, they'd be really good pals? Maybe it's my insane desire to see Soundwave with a friend besides humans and pets.
This chapter was coauthored by Zoey the Wolf, who's letting me use some of her OCs. All hail!
Oh, and some of my personal G1-preferences leaked into this. Oops.
Starscream writhed in Optimus's grip, screeching in Cybertronian as Optimus attempted to hold him down.
To say there was something seriously wrong with the Seeker would be an understatement. It was probably a side effect to Blackarachnia's bite, but Optimus was getting tired of holding him down.
Energon leaked from his wounds. They were minor, but if Starscream decided to get violent, things could go badly.
"It's not working." Laserbeak said, flapping his wings in annoyance.
Optimus winced as Starscream hit one of his open wounds, digging into delicate circuitry and wiring.
"Can we sedate him?"
Laserbeak watched the scene for another cycle. "Better try it."
Rumble (or Frenzy) grabbed the medical kit and began pawing through it, looking for the sedatives.
"Just a little expired." The spy said, waving around the desired object. "Put it in?"
"Yes." Optimus forced the Seeker low enough for the Decepticon to stab an Energon line with the sedative. Almost immediately, Starscream went limp, and Optimus laid him over a few seats.
Xantium II at full power could reach Cybertron in a little more than two human months. Unicron had reached Earth in less than three human weeks. Unless Bumblebee and Soundwave escaped somehow (unlikely) and managed to sabotage Unicron (also unlikely) Unicron would beat them all. He had come to Earth, probably knowing they were headed to Cybertron and needed to intercept the Xantium II for some reason, probably to rescue Blackarachnia…
This kind of convoluted plotting was Megatron's forte. Optimus was developing a processor ache. He sat at the pilot's seat, watching Ravage circle the interior of the ship.
He looked at the stars. Somewhere, only known by the ship's navigational systems, lay Cybertron.
Blaster's audio receptors were threatening to burn out.
The 'command meeting' (aka riot) had been going on for the better part of five joors.
Hot Rod and Magnus were in the midst of an argument concerning something Blaster couldn't recall, and didn't care to try.
He exchanged a glance with Blurr then turned back to his work – monitoring every incoming and outgoing frequency on Cybertron.
During the greater part of the war, this had been impossible, simply due to the Decepticon's much more sophisticated communications network. However, about fifty-three orbital cycles earlier, the majority of the communications officers had picked up and departed Cybertron, leaving a much relieved Blaster in their wake.
Nothing. Well, not what he was looking for. He was looking for anything concerning Xantium II or Teletraan, or Unicron. Anything else, such as the Decepticon's latest plan, was considered second priority. Though the ships were not supposed to communicate unless absolutely necessary (to conserve power) something was going to go wrong. And he was going to know exactly when it did.
Nothing. There was the ever-present extremely irritating signal Blaster could never decode bouncing around space, but absolutely nothing from what he wanted to hear from.
Around him, Magnus and Hot Rod continued to fight.
High General Strika surveyed the sad mess before her. Slipstream and Flyby, the co-Air Commanders whilst Starscream was absent, were staring into space. They had sustained some damage while Unicron had tried to invade. Slipstream's right wing was nearly torn off, hanging by a few circuits and energon lines. Her helm was dented; Strika had seen her slam into a building during the fight.
Flyby (Strika hadn't even seen her during the fight, and assumed she had been participating somewhere else) had a deep gash running from her upper left arm nearly to the wrist. Her four wings were dented, the black and blue stripes that ran along her wings were twisted into zigzag lines. Both femmes' thrusters (mauve and navy respectively) were offline, rendering them useless in the air.
Just what she needed while Megatron was absent and returning home. The bright overhead lights seemed to throw everything into a garish nightmare. Well, she was living a nightmare. It made sense that that reality would resemble that.
To her right, Oil Slick and Lockdown glared daggers at each other. Oil Slick was nearly at optimum efficiency, due to the fact that he had not fought. Lockdown, temporary replacement for Soundwave, massaged his wounded shoulder, trying to stop the flow of Energon. Outside, Thundercracker, Straxus, Poltergeist and the rest of Strika's sorry troops waited for their commanders to return.
"We need a plan," she said finally, after her top officers had had enough time to stew. "I don't care what Howlback says about flight patterns. Unicron is going to return, and when he does, I need better performance than what happened last time.
"Slipstream, Flyby, coordinate with the rest of your troops to develop a plan to hit Unicron hard and fast before he enters Cybertron's orbit. Lockdown, get the rest of the cassetticons online. I don't care," she added, seeing the mech beginning to protest, "What kind of energy or supplies this will take. We need them to figure out what the Autobots are up to."
"General," Flyby said, not trying to hide the acid in her tone. "I think that hitting Unicron too early is detrimental to our scant resources and troops. Allow me to come up with an alternate plan."
"Denied." Strika was in no mood for the Seeker's irritating penchant for independence. "We need to work as a team, not as independent agents."
"Exactly what Lord Megatron would say," Slipstream growled. Flyby's wings twitched and her vocaliser opened.
"Oil Slick," Strika added, eager to turn her attention away from the soon-to-be squabbling Seekers and to the impassive scientist. "We need more cosmic rust."
"Fine." Oil Slick seemed uninterested. "But I will require more ingredients, which Lockdown and his troops can provide."
Lockdown's mandibles twitched as Oil Slick handed him a datapad, presumably filled with the supplies necessary to create what had blocked Unicron's attack. Black and gold plating shifted to reveal a small metallic being. Hooked claws worked their way out of his chassis.
Reedman hissed in irritation at the bright lights and tried to reenter Lockdown. The much larger Decepticon hissed and closed his chassis, communicating with Reedmen in another language. Affronted, Reedman hovered in midair for an astrosecond before darting out of the room.
Strika became aware that her Air Commanders were in the midst of rearranging the command structure.
She sighed and wondered when Megatron was going to return.
Soundwave resisted the urge to force himself into stasis as the laser hit his shoulder, rendering his entire left arm useless. He settled for clenching his right hand so hard it dented the Autobot's armor.
"Well. This seems to be the same scenario as last time, but as I recall, you two have switched positions."
Soundwave tried to unsubspace his blaster, but he had given it to Bumblebee. Just as he had the thought, the Scout's optics flickered to life; blinking away the Energon Soundwave's shoulder and chest was dripping into them.
"Wha-"
'Do not move.' Soundwave commanded. Bumblebee saw the figure of Blackarachnia standing above both of them and decided to comply.
She knelt beside Soundwave, who tensed, but did not lash out.
"I'm not going to kill you, much as I'd like to." She whispered into his audio receptor.
"Affirmative." He said. "Information required."
Blackarachnia laughed. "Always the same." In a flash, she bit the other Decepticon, sending whatever toxin she had infected Starscream and Optimus with into his systems.
Soundwave seemed unaffected, and for a brief cycle, Bumblebee actually believed the toxin had no affect on the Decepticon and he would be fine and they would get out of here.
Then he felt Soundwave's mind go blank, just before the spymaster went into stasis, on top of Bumblebee. Abandoning every pretense at being in stasis, Bumblebee tried to force the Decepticon off of him, to at least try and get a few hits in, but Blackarachnia would have none of that.
"You two aren't enough to make up for Starscream, but good enough. For now." she leaned over Bumblebee and Soundwave, hand reaching for Bumblebee's spark chamber.
Bumblebee shuttered his optics. This was the perfect way to die: having his Spark pulled out while he was stuck under a Decepticon.
He felt a brief flash of pain, overcome with numbness.
"I'll see you in the…Pit." He managed to say.
Then nothing.
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