Helicon's Revenge
Pika on drew an inspiring picture of a greiving Helicon :
1/347294439/2895623431
ThunderRemix8: sniper
TRice01: lost his friend off Nemesis deck.
We were a trine. Yes, I know you all know what a trine is. A three way bondhood. No, we were not lovers, so get your mind away from those thoughts. We were friends, and that is the weakest description of what we were. Brothers in arms? Yes. But far, far more than that.
For you see, it is not common among our kind to make bonds. Friends, sure, common. Companions, of course. But easily we are lost and thus our kind learned early on not to form bonds. Don't get too close. There is no point. It will only leave scars on your spark or worse, leave you vulnerable to watching the other die.
But I did. We did. I will never be sorry, but he will be.
Let me help you understand better, for you see after my next course of action, this will be my last entry. Maybe.
Our kind are clones and as Lord Megatron likes to say, "Cannon fodder." Yes, we are considered expendable, but yet we are also invaluable. Master Shockwave created us. Eradicons, Vehicons and my kind: Helicons. There are less of my kind, thus you may not be familiar with me.
We are stamped out like a human child may make gingerbread cookies. Or a developer makes track houses. Or a production line makes automobiles. But just like those other items being mass made, we become individuals as soon as you put icing on us, or hang your first picture or back into a pole. Yes you heard me, we all become individuals when we hit our first battle and live. Our memories be come our own when he make a kill or survive a blast. Scars on our sparks and mother boards or the visible scars on our chassis and fuselages.
KND-RR-205, Kinder as my friends began to call me when we hit Earth. D3r3K became Decker. And then EN8-6G, Aerin. By looking at me, you see a formidable hovering beast of machine that will easily slice you with my blades and clawed servos. Yes, I will. My red chevron-visor will track you and target you for my shoulder mounted missile launchers.
Decker is a Vehicon, you know as a vehicle based foot soldier with his triangle muzzled blaster. A ground pounder. And a wicked fast evader.
And Aerin. Yes, an Eradicon, a jet flyer. Yes, he is based off the Seeker's forms without all the high class frivolities. Nor the arrogance.
Our training was like you expected: mass and no room for individuality. Each according to their models. Stamped out. Developed. Produced. Until…
The battle was hot and heavy. We were to come in like a mass wall of firing weapons. Like a swarm of Insecticons. We were to come in and drain the Autobot's energy and focus while the officers take out the primary foes.
That was the plan. Opportunity became our saving grace. For this, I am ever so grateful.
Hovering in my position, I snipe out my next target giving my team it's best chances of returning home. Then I see one Vehicon blasted off his pedes and to the side. Just about that time, an Eradicon is clipped and comes down nearly on top of the stunned Vehicon. Directly under me. Lowering myself, I continue to fire holding off the approaching Autobot scout. Our officer comes in, and makes his kill. With a wave of his arm, motions us forward. I know that if I leave, these two will be trampled. Lowering more, I ping them.
My plan had been to elevate them out of the stampede. Yes I understand extraction is not my duty, but saving as many foot soldiers for tomorrow's battle seemed like a good idea at the time for which I am ready to defend my actions on a knee before my officer. The Eradicon hefts the Vehicon onto one of my skids and then hooks himself to the other.
Rising, I bring them to a ledge. And take a hit to my main rotor. Scrap. Let me tell you, it hurts. Bad. I nearly fell off the ledge making sure not to crush them in my fall. But deep black and a deep blue servos grab me. They haul me onto their ledge. Transforming as best I can, we all look at each other.
It should not be funny, but it is. Here we are three different models injured in our unique places. My blades are bent. He lost two tires. He has a smoking engine and smashed nose cone. Bing bang bong. We look bad. But we are alive. We laugh.
Looking at our weapons, we manage to trade out enough pieces to get two weapons operational. I can't fire, smashed hand, but I can target. Decker can fire. Aerin has a scatter blaster that can hold our position. Thus, we hold our ground and are able to make a few kills. We are not useless. We are not cannon fodder.
We must have looked like quite the mess limping back together. My right knee is sparking, Aerin's left, Decker from his lower back, both legs useless. Both of Decker's arms looped across our shoulders as we heft his hips by each of our remaining hands.
With swift and curt orders, we are shoved into areas by our injuries. Both Aerin and I want to stay with Decker, but we are shoved aside as if we were nothing more than a rifle. Decker shoots us a thumbs up, for us not to worry.
But we do.
That's right, I worried. Not for a fellow Helicon, but for a Vehicon. I should not care. But I do.
Aerin pats my shoulder, "He will be fine."
Reassurance? Comfort? From an Eradicon? I should not accept it. But I do. I need it.
He pulls my arm. I follow him. He takes me to the repair station for the Eradicons with lesser injuries. Shoving a hand to my shoulder, I sit. Their medical droid comes over and says nothing to a Helicon being in their sector. Then again, droids don't say much at all, devoid of emotions. They will not care.
A few of the other Eradicons do give me odd looks. Aerin smiles, "Aerin, what's your designation?"
"KND-RR-205," I reply.
The Eradicons chuckle. Aerin smiles, "Not for long, Helicon. Once one of the Vehicons finds out, you will be stuck with a ground pounder nickname. They are tapping into the Earth-communications net. If you don't like it, better find one quickly."
"We aren't supposed to be mixing," I shudder in fear of the discipline our officer will give us when he finds me conversing frivolously with one… not of my kind.
Aerin's falls. Yes, falls. Do not let that bland face plate fool you. There are a thousand expressions we drones can express with our bodies. Right now, he is sad. "Prejudice prudes."
Now that brings me up straight. How can he say that! We are-
"Individuals. We are to be all our sparks can imagine. And believe me, that one {he points to a flyer with curled scars along his wings} has quite the imagination!"
Imaginations? I know the word, but never thought to use mine.
And so on and on the conversation goes while I am repaired until a Aerin beams. "I just got word that Decker is in the recovery ward back in the Vehicon deck. Do you want to check on him?"
Of course I did! The mech has considerable strength of processor to lay down on his belly and take direction from me and hit every target I pointed out. No questions, no grimaces just- "YES!" I find myself snapping too quickly. Aerin giggles. Yes, we can giggle too.
And so Aerin, a couple other Eradicons and I sneak down to the Vehicon recovery ward using bypass conduits and sneak-swift movements. And there I see Decker, face down, nearly out with fresh welds to his lower back and hips. Aerin leans over and whispers, "Boo!"
Decker gives a weak chuckle turning he helm up. But his visor goes bright when he sees me. I crouch down so he doesn't have to strain to see me. "How are you?"
He shrugs, "Ugh. Maybe I liked being numb instead."
"Yeah but you couldn't walk then."
"I wasn't doing a very good job before."
"I could take you to the Eradicon ward and fit you for wings."
"I'd rather die!" The Vehicon wilts his tires.
I find myself giggling. Yes, giggling. Decker gives me that lopsided online glow to his mask. To you humans, it's one raise brow. Vehicons are famous for those expressions. Even Aerin tips his confused face plate into my view. Then my two new friends look at each other,
"Did he just laugh?"
"I thought Helicons didn't have a sense of humor?"
"Oh we have a sense of humor, its just one you two wouldn't understand." I shove my glossa in my cheek.
Oh their expression is priceless. If their jaws could drop, they would have just hit the floor, which only makes me laugh harder.
As you can tell, the bond was almost instantaneous. Best friends. A deadly team. A companionship that bridges barriers. A comfort that defies orders. A need that overrides logic. We needed, fed… drew and gave energy to each other like I've never known.
And then that fateful day came….
Called to the deck of the Nemesis by him! I watched as my best friend was thrown to his death. It was not Lord Megatron's fault that his anger got the best of him. It was HIS for calling Vehicons to the deck. There was never a reason Vehicons should be on deck when Nemesis is so high in altitude. What was he thinking?!
Oh that's right! Officers don't care. They don't think. After all… we are expendable cannon fodder. From my waiting station, I watched Aerin dive off Nemesis trying to save Decker. But it was all for not. Decker crashed. He never stood a chance. So focused on Decker, Aerin never saw the deck. He hit it too, as if he was a Vehicon.
And my spark plummeted as well. I felt as if I had been throw off the deck right beside them. And I could do nothing. Helicons were stuck inside. Sealed away. Grounded.
Have I spent too much time with a Vehicon to feel like I took that impact too? Have I spent too much time with an Eradicon thinking I can take a dive like that too?
Have I gotten too close? Should I have followed the written and unwritten rules of forming a friendship bond? Are the more intelligent officers right?
No.
Officers are wrong. Friendships heal us. Friendships give us a reason to live. After all, what is this war all about?
I happened by chance to pass the med bay after Breakdown's body had been cleansed of the human pestilence who tried to use it as a host. I saw Knockout's expression for his dead friend.
I have heard Dreadwing's muses for his lost twin.
I have heard Soundwave hum for his sick and injured Laserbeak.
Maybe that is how I know how to identify my feelings now. For as much as the officers have tried to say we are not permitted to have emotions, it only proves more and more. I have them.
Cracking my hand into the wall, all helms turn to me. "I shall have my revenge!" My fellow Helicons audibly gasp. Yes, they know I have formed a forbidden bond with my trine.
For you see, when we hit the field, we break ranks and team together. Not just to be a precision -unauthorized- strike team. But also so we are looking after each other. Decker hits the deck and speeds through causing chaos. Aerin comes in low and fires his scatter shots to protect Decker. I hover high above and take out any aimed at either one of them that they miss. Together, we have brought down more that even Soundwave can add up. This is what made us indispensable. Kept us alive. This is what caused each of our divisions to be assigned to Nemesis. No one realized it was us three. Just that our divisions were most successful.
And now, two of us have been carelessly cast aside.
I crack my fist repeatedly into the wall until it bleeds like my spark.
We were a trine. We moved and breathed together. We healed together. We laughed together. We thought together. Now…
I can't breathe.
I can't think.
I can't feel…
Except rage.
I leave the room. I'm coming for him. He killed my friends. Either I kill him or I join my friends. Either way, it does not matter.
For we are not cannon fodder. We are not expendable.
"KND-RR-205," what are you doing here? The officer asks.
"My name is Kinder. You killed my kind. I will kill you in kind."
His optics go wide and I move…..