Fandom: Transformers Bayverse (POV'verse)
Author: Gatekat and baka_no_neko on LJ
Pairing: Trigger/Amunet Mubarak
Rating: NC-17 for mech/female expected
Codes: Het, Sticky, Xeno (Transformer/Human)
Summary: With Amunet recovered enough to have an extended, coherent conversation about the future, Jazz gets down to business.
Set in the Point of View fanverse at ( community .livejournal .com/tf_matrix )
Trigger Happy: Rules of Life
"Yar injuries 're almost healed," Jazz sounded absolutely stunned. "Ya were near dead two days ago."
"This form heals fast," Amunet responded with a yawn that showed off six and eight-inch teeth set in a jaw that was half crocodile and half T-Rex. "It's why I had to stay in it. I'll still be hurt as a human, but it'll be safe enough for me to travel and be cared for by doctors."
Over the last forty hours with little else to do, both mechs had cautiously explored the body they were providing warmth for. Over forty feet long, a third of that a thick, prehensile tail, and weighing as much as Jazz.
Jazz was the first to work out that she was actually a biped, though built more like a running bird than a human. Trigger noticed the webbing on her hind feet and the flattened spines with webbing running down the top of her tail.
Overall, it was a strange picture that weren't sure would be any more obvious in full light.
"How long before you'd heal completely if you remained like this?" Jazz cocked his head, quite willing to remain where he was, trapped under one large forearm and pressed close to her wide chest.
"Mmm, with meat and warmth, five or six days in all," she decided. "The drone really did do a lot of damage."
Trigger turned his helm from his place and cocked a optical ridge, "Can we stall that long?"
Jazz gave it a serious thought, but Amunet beat him to it.
"I'll heal much faster in the tropics. Diego Garcia is better for me. I should be healthy enough that they don't keep me in medbay, so I can sneak out and rest in this form. It'll be a couple weeks, but still much faster than a human."
"That is the easier choice," Jazz agreed. "Being gone a week under these conditions will cause a lot of questions, even for me."
A small amount of relief came over the black mech, pleased with that at least. He wasn't good with handling overly suspicious superiors. He was used to working on his own, given the mission - get in, kill, get out. Simple.
Grumbling quietly, he leaned his helm back onto Amunet's scales, "The island will have enough cover at least, and meat shouldn't be a problem. If you like crab," he grinned, but dropped the joke at the seriousness on Jazz's faceplates, "Okay, no crab."
"Don't worry, I can handle my needs by the time we get back," she assured them both. "Without breaking any laws or regs. The most critical of the damage will have healed by then."
"You know Prime is going to have to hear of this," Jazz said quietly.
Amunet let out a gusty sigh. "I figured as much. I'm sure Prowl already knows."
"He does," Jazz nodded slightly. "On the plus side, with the three top officers in on it, covering for any events will be easier."
"At least that way things will run much smoother for you getting in and out of the base," Trigger looked at Amunet as he spoke.
She nodded slightly, but looked at Jazz. "Prime's going to want a better explanation than I've given you, I expect."
"Probably," he admitted. "I'll see how much I can get him to accept without grilling you, but yeah, he'll probably want to talk to you. About the war if nothing else. He's kinda protective of his charges, you know."
She giggled, a very strange sound coming from half-beast vocal chords. "I've noticed. He's in an unenviable position, trying to make a home on a world where he knows maybe a tenth of the actual situation, but being led to believe he knows most of it."
"There's that too," Jazz nodded. "Do you think you can shift soon?"
A slightly resigned sound escapede her. "Any time, really. As long as I get a ride to the transport."
Optics shifting to the entrance of the cavern, Trigger felt his doors shift slightly with anticipation of transforming. "I'm more than happy to take you, but it's up to you."
"The story will go better if Trigger takes you," Jazz suggested, intentionally giving his rival an opening.
"That works for me," Amunet agreed and shifted, untangling her tail from Trigger's frame and her arms from Jazz before stepping back and willing her form to melt and twist into the familiar human one.
"Oh man," Jazz groaned. "Do me a favor, never shift in front of Prowl, 'k? The orn after a processor lock is a bitch."
"Urr, okay," she gave him a bit of an odd look, but was soon far too focused on the tattered remains of her cold weather uniform and how it wasn't helping much to worry about it. "I hope you have a heater," she shivered, looking directly at Trigger.
The Pagani bounced on its shocks as Trigger finished his transformation, his driver door popping open. His heaters were on max, his seats warm. "Why not come in and find out?"
She smiled warmly at him and happily climbed in. A low, wanton moan escapede her as warmth envelopede her from all sides.
::Let's go,:: Jazz transmitted as he transformed. ::The transport will land in half a joor.::
His engine revved in response to both the happy female in his seat and his CO. ::Right behind you, Jazz:.:
The trip, partly over unbroken terrain and partly on dirt roads, went both fast and slow for him. It felt wonderful to have Amunet curled on his seat, all but radiating contentment, but it was stressful knowing just how injured she still was. She really had given herself only enough time to become a walking wounded.
The C-17 was waiting for them on the tarmac of Kurnak Fort, ramp down, and Jazz didn't hesitate to drive inside. Not far behind, Trigger carefully mounted the ramp and drove up after the silver mech.
"Here we go," his usually cheery voice was quieter with worry. He stopped to Jazz's right and turned off his engine.
"Out with you," Ratchet's voice startled Trigger slightly, though he'd seen the medic when he drove in. "Whatever you got into, let's see what's left of you."
Amunet grumbled, less than pleased with the idea of leaving her very warm nest on Trigger's seat, but she uncurled anyway, unwilling to anger him.
The Pagani's door snapped open, allowing Amunet to amble over to the CMO. Once she was a safe distance away, the black mech began his transformation sequence, eager to stretch again. And move further away from the rather disgruntled looking medic.
"What in the Pit did you get into?" Ratchet demanded as he ran detailed scans and began to prep an injection for her to speed the healing and dull the pain.
"'Con drone," she shrugged, only to wince as abused and torn muscles objected. "Maybe the Con. Definitely a fall down the slope. It's something of a blur."
Ratchet gave her a scrutinizing look before giving her the injection. Then he glared at Jazz. "Are you ever going to declassify what happened?"
"Probably not," the silver Solstice shrugged on his suspension.
With a disgruntled huff, the medic focused on his patient again. "You are either extremely lucky, or thank Primus whatever happened after the damage. You healed very fast."
"I know," she said quietly, suddenly uneasy under the scrutiny. "I wasn't very aware for most of it."
"Be grateful for that too," he grunted as the pilot announced they were going to start rolling. Ratchet braced Amunet carefully with his hand. "Jazz asked me to oversee your recovery personally. He knows it's easier to pull rank on me than the human doctors."
"Hay, it's true," Jazz quipped as the engines outside roared to full power and the transport launched into the air with more force that usual because of the short runway.
"Now," Ratchet focused on Amunet. "You can lay down in me, or you can snuggle inside one of them, but you are going to rest somewhere padded and warm."
"You'll get no argument from me," she promised and glanced at Trigger, uncertain if she wanted to ask him to sit still for that long.
After a thorough stretch, the mech stilled as he heard the medic's words. Tilting his helm, yellow optics gleamed when he caught Amunet glancing at him. Chuckling slightly, doors flaring an inch, he leaned down.
"I'll get a workout when I get back to the base ... erh, probably after the debriefing," he straightened and smiled. Plating fell apart as he transformed back into his alt-form, that door opening a little gingerly. "Seats still warm."
"Thanks," Amunet gave him a warm smile and stroked the top of his door lightly before sitting in the passenger side. She gave the back a gentle push and he lowered the seat so she could lie down. "Warm and sleep sound really good," she mumbled, closing her eyes with a grateful sound for the warmth surrounding her.
Rumbling gently, Trigger eased himself back into a safe spot out of anybots way and settled in for the flight.
It was past midnight, joors after Amunet and Jazz had the meeting with Prime, when he went looking for her. Or rather, pinged her socket location on the base computer. Only it showed her in the middle of the lagoon, not far from where a fleet had anchored only a couple years before.
Frowning, Trigger thought to himself How in Cybertron am I going to get out there?
Regardless, the black mech bid good night to the other 'Bots he'd been conversing with and transformed. Following the route charted for him by his navigator, Trigger took off at speed. He drove out the causeway not far from the runway's control tower until he reached the end. He still had almost two miles before he reached her location in the deepest part of the lagoon.
With a warble of agitation, the mech lowered himself into the water. It was warm, pleasantly so, but dark and he could feel the some corals beneath his large feet crumble like ash. His progress was slow, him being more than wary of the open waters. He was used to enclosed spaces, tightly knit trees or at least solid ground beneath his feet.
A small pressure-wave of water was his only warning before his IR scans set off with a very large shape coming towards him.
Startled Trigger inadvertently released a whine of distress. His doors flared to their full height as he tried to calm his whirring processor, servo seconds from transforming into his shotgun. "Too much slagging liquid," he growled hurriedly, waiting for the shape to surface. If it did.
The creature circled him once, then stopped in front of him and lifted its head half way up, it's jaw line matching the waterline.
"Trigger," Amunet's familiar half-beast rumble greeted him.
Despite steeling himself for when it emerged, the mech still jumpede sloshing water all over his chassis. Yellow optics wide and bright stared down at the familiar scaled head, headlights illuminating the water around her and causing her slitted eyes to shine back at him. "H-Hey Amunet," he chattered, doors lowering in relief.
"Go on, get back on land. I'll meet you at Simpson Point," she nudged him gently.
More than a little grateful, Trigger smiled widely at here, "Sure thing."
Again, his stumbling made the trip back to the beach slightly arduous. Shaking off as much water from his plating as he could, the mech transformed and drove passed the airfield on route to Simpson Point. It was closer to the base than he really liked given her form, and he only belatedly realized that she'd swim in open ocean to get there.
Transforming, the mech looked back in the direction of the base with a frown. Why had she chosen here? So close? Guilty for his lack of thought, Trigger came to wait on the shoreline, optics bright and expectant.
He picked up the movement on the surface before anything else, a shape that could be her head moving towards him at a very good clip.
Cautious still, the mech slowly squatted down closer to the water's surface. "Amunet?" he called little above a whisper.
Thirty feet out, the water too shallow for the large body to submerge anymore, and he saw her transform into the tiny human form he was so fond of. It still hurt his processors to think of the creature nearly as tall as Prime shrinking down into a human, but here he was looking at it again.
"I'm here," she called back to him, her multitude of tight braids, each capped in carved jade, spread out from where she was treading water with a warm smile before lazily swimming towards shore.
He rose to his feet, observing her swimming with his own smile, the mech sloshed through the water. He was careful not to send waves her way, pausing so he matched her speed until the sand began to rise up. "Midnight swim? Or find something tasty?" his faceplate curved into a cheeky grin as he descended to the sand below.
"Healing as fast as I can," she grinned and swam up to him. "I have gills in that form. I was sleeping in the middle of the lagoon."
"Better than sharing a barracks with a certain pair of twins," he grumbled at the thought of Mudflaps and Skids. "At least you'll feel comfortable there. I'm glad to hear that your healing well, the rate at which you do that is remarkable," he tilted his head to watch her.
"Anything is better than the younger twins," she agreed and paddled up to him. "How was your day?"
"Debrief was the usual boring slag, but going out to the range was good," he pulled up one leg, whilst the other extended out before him. He offered her a hand. "And yourself? How was the meeting?"
She shuddered before willingly climbing on his hand. "I've had better. There are werewolves in NEST."
Bringing his hand before him he growled lightly. "In hiding I take it."
"Just like I am," she nodded. "Prime ordered Jazz to get their side, find out if these ones will be trouble for me. I didn't like his tone though. At least one of the wolves is very valuable to him."
The black mech lowered his optical ridges. "As long as they don't find out about you. How did Prime take it?"
"Surprised. I don't think the Garou told him about the other races," she murmured, snuggling against him with a happy sound. "He was not at all pleased that I wanted to remain hidden from them because they'll try to kill me for being Mokolé. So pretty much as I expected."
The mech vented a soft sigh, bringing Amunet closer to his chassis. "But at least you have the boss in the know." His optics were duller than usual. A finger trailed down her arm slowly. "I am sorry for this mess, but I'm glad I found you when I did."
"I would have recovered," she stroked his chest in return. "It may have taken longer, but I would have been fine. If I do have to bolt, I'll try to find a way to let you know I've moved and not died. From the numbers, I could win the fight, but it would draw far too much attention from their kin. I'm not sure even your kind would survive a coordinated effort from theirs."
His optics glowed softly, and a rumble of affection sounded from beneath her fingertips, "I will help look into a way for us to converse freely. I would hate for something to happen to you, and I have to find out from Jazz or somebot." Trigger looked down at her with surprise when her second comment registered. "These Garou are that versatile?
"Versatile has little to do with it," she said grimly. "Though they are mammals, with the versatility that brings. They are numerous, well equipped, savage, ruthless and organized. Even with my limited knowledge of their full abilities, this base and it's population could be razed in a single strike they are more than capable of delivering if they chose to."
The mech let out a vent of surprise, optics widening. "I see. Definitely not to be underestimated then."
"No," she agreed. "They exterminated three races, almost exterminated three more, including my own, and effectively broke the power of the rest all within a generation. The only forces they haven't managed to shatter are the vampires and the humans. The first I'm not sure ever saw a coordinated effort and the second they only attempted to cull, not destroy."
Leaning back, Trigger looked upwards into the sky at whatever stars peeked out. "Our war was not the first to have disturbed this planet then. Organics and Cybertronians have similar histories. War, massive loss of life." He glanced back down and frowned at her. "Your kin and these Garou, will you ever find peace?"
She mulled it over, and sighed. "Possible, yes. Will it happen in my lifetime, I doubt it. There is too much pain, too much Wyrm-taint for it to happen."
"Wyrm-taint?" he adjusted his door wings as he asked.
She paused, organizing an answer he might understand. "There are three great forces that shape reality; the Wyld, the Weaver and the Wyrm. The Wyld is the force of creation, it is chaos and new life. The Weaver is what binds reality in a form of order. The Wyrm is destruction.
"Once, they were in balance. The Wyld would create, the Weaver would bind in her web and create order of the Wyld's chaos, and when the web became too stifling, the Wyrm would destroy some of it to create space for new creation." She dropped her eyes, watching the black water of the tropical sea. "Then the Weaver captured the Wyrm in her web, and the Wyrm went mad. She no longer sought to keep balance with her sisters, but to destroy everything. Thus began the end-times we are in now."
Trigger listened with intrigue, his processor shifting through what he'd just heard. "So this Wyrm has influenced the Garou's desire to destroy the other races, including your own?"
"It is not proven, and it is an accusation of unparalleled import. Worse than even treason," she cautioned him. "But it seems so very likely. The timing, their actions ... they were always a proud race, one who believed they were better than all others, but the War of Rage they inflicted on Gaia, on Her creations, in Her name ... that is beyond sanity. It is the very description of what Wyrm-taint does."
The mech listened thoughtfully. Although still a little confused, he managed to grasp the just of what the little female was saying. "You're culture is intriguing, but this is troubling. Will this not balanced out again? You speak of this planet as a being ... will it not right itself?"
"In theory, but not before everything is wiped out," she said softly. "A full reformat," she tried for a term he might understand better.
His optics grew bright, his door wings shuddering before snapping shut. Trigger rumbled, not at all happy with Amunet's desponded reply. He tried a change in topic. "Do you want to return to recharge? A hunt maybe? Something to take your mind off of things?" His hand enclosed gently around her, but remained open enough so that the female could move if she wished.
She smiled sadly at him. "Recharge sounds good," she murmured. "Do you have private quarters?"
The mech smiled warmly at her and stroked her back carefully, "Yeah, got a room to myself in the barracks."
Gently, Trigger lowered his hand to the floor and let the female slide off. Drawing back the mech, straightened before transforming. His door popped open in invitation and she climbed in.
"The lagoon is warm and wet, but curling up with you sounds very good right now," she murmured as she settled in with an affectionate stroke to his dashboard.
He rumbled, his seat vibrating soothingly as a belt snuck round her in an embrace. He revved his engine a little, sand flying from his wheels as he spede off smoothly towards the base. "Likewise," he purred.