there's a million&one ways
A/N: so while writing this chapter, I came across the most inspirational music. It's from a band called Lydia. They have the best lyrics I've ever come across. They are really deep, and the music they are played to is beautiful. I highly recommend you check them out. You won't be disappointed.
Just, don't listen to some of their sadder songs while reading this chapter.
Replies:
ILY STORY!!! 3: That first sentence pretty much sums up what I felt when Anna admitted it. I like Scranna. xD It sounds screechy just like their relationship, lol. Thanks for the review! Hopefully this chapter will live up to your expectations.
Pairings: Annabelle Lennox w/ Starscream vs. Annabelle Lennox w/ Ironhide
Disclaimer: I do not own transformers © Hasbro.
"This is com-link speak."
The ocean was incredibly relaxing.
Ironhide hadn't understood until now why the humans were so infatuated with its healing qualities. He had adjusted to the feel of water swarming inside the tiny gaps of his body, and was actually enjoying the feel of the ocean's sand washing through him as he walked along the ocean floor. His optics radiated light in a place where light had not been seen for thousands of years. Enthralled fish would drift in front of his optics to catch a glimpse at the light before swimming onwards. Ironhide would watch them until the creatures disappeared from his sight. They continued on their lives, forgetting in a few seconds about their encounter with an alien. If forgetting came so easily to him, then he wouldn't be here in this god forsaken place.
Despite the cold waters, the autobot felt overheated. Hidden deep inside his chest, sealed away in a gray chamber, his spark pulsed too rapidly for his health. One surge after another plagued his systems, nearly overloading his circuits with energy. No matter how much he wanted to overload and fall into unconsciousness, his spark wouldn't produce enough energy to send him over the edge. It was torment being on the edge, wanting and waiting to fall off. Instinctively, Ironhide took a deep breath of salt water to cool his systems, but it didn't stop him from faltering and losing his footing. The sand cushioned his fall, and a cloud of dispersed sand engulfed his body. He made no effort to open his optics, when he knew he would only see darkness.
The soldier deactivated his chronometer, audio sensors, and pressure sensors. With simple commands, he had made the outside world disappear. As far as he was concerned, the only world left was the one he desperately hung onto; even though, he knew it was already out of his grasps. The idea of letting go was more frightening than any foe he had faced on the battlefield. He didn't want to return to the state he had been in after Chromia's death but before he met Annabelle. Ironhide didn't desire to become someone who lived only to fight, so that he could live another day to remember what had been. In that state, there was no purpose to live. There was nothing but darkness.
Darkness led to desperation. Desperation then led to irrational thoughts. Irrational thoughts led to joining to the decepticons. And he knew he didn't want to end up among the decepticons. He didn't want to be part of the sick cycle that had stolen his brothers-in-arms from him. He didn't want to end up being the one to end another friend's life. Ironhide couldn't allow himself to go down that road, but …
At least in his memories there sunshine, warmth, hope, and love. It didn't matter to him that what he felt was fake. Those memories shielded him from the blackness that had enveloped his life and kept all the boogey-men at bay. Just like a child who is forced to sleep without his nightlight for the first time, Ironhide could only wait out the darkness and hope that the sun would rise soon. His body shuddered as a cold thought swept through his mind: Starscream, for the second time, had extinguished his nightlight. Once again, the traitorous seeker had stolen the life of a dear companion, but this time, it had happened right before his eyes.
'Why couldn't I see what he was doing to her?' he asked himself painfully. 'I'm suppose to protect her from things like him. Why couldn't I have protected her like I did with Sam in Mission City? Maybe Sunstreaker was right … Maybe I am baggage for the rest of the team.' He felt, somewhere in his spark, his pride deflate. 'Shit. I've made them suffer just because I couldn't see passed my own agenda. No wonder Prime ever let me go head-to-head with the seekers. He knew, they knew … seems everyone else knows me so much better than myself.'
"So what you gonna do, 'Hide?" The husky, feminine voice was enough of stop all coherent thoughts. His mind brought forth a picture of the chunky, heavily built femme squatting beside him. She placed her teal hands over her knees, looking at him with a down-to-earth, god-honest stare. "You gonna stay down there and let a femme kick your ass?" He want to say "no" to the memory of Chromia, but the fear that her ghost might disappear if he spoke silenced him. "C'mon 'Hide, get up. It looks bad if the weapon specialist loses to a femme. I can already hear the twins' taunts." The femme smiled, offering her hand to him. "I'll stripe you of your canons if you don't take my hand, brother."
After several quiet moments, she sighed. She sat down on the sand and placed a hand on his shoulder. With the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen, Chromia sympathetically looked down at him. "Are you going to speak to me?" she asked hesitantly.
"You aren't real," he told himself sourly. "You're just a figment of my processors – a glitch gone crazy. I'll I'm really doing is having a conversation with myself."
"If that is true," Chromia said. "Then I can promise you that this will be one of the best conversations of your life." She gently cupped her hand around his chin and lifted up his head. "Activate your optics, brother. You need to wake up and realize that this world you've created for yourself isn't good for you. It's very unhealthy."
He could smell the scent of burning energon drifting off her body, and feel the heat radiating from her, as if she had just gotten done training. 'How can a memory feel this real and not be real?' Ironhide asked himself. "Why should I wake up when I have nothing to look forward to in the morning? I like this world that I live in … its beautiful."
"It's fake, brother," Chromia insisted. "You're living a lie, and if you keep lying to yourself, you'll end up dying." She pressed her forehead against his and breathed in his salty scent. "I don't want you dead, brother. We don't need anymore good soldiers dead," she spoke frankly in a soft voice. "There are too many dead as it is." She wrapped her free hand around his head and pushed him closer. "Don't throw your life away for a femme. You have too much to live for than just something as silly as that. She's bad for you anyway. She's bad for everyone around her."
"Anna isn't – "
"Open your eyes, Ironhide!" she lectured sternly. "Annabelle isn't good. She is bad, very bad. She's a poison, a weapon designed to destroy you and the autobots. That's why you need to open your optics and see that she is nothing but a decepticon made of flesh. Please, see through her lies. She's a killer, brother, and she will kill you if you don't open your optics!" Chromia's optics were pleading with Ironhide. 'Please, I don't want you dead. I won't have you dead like me,' she thought to herself. She firmly grabbed hold of his helm and shook it even more. Desperation drove her actions. "Look at me! Look at me, Ironhide!" she screamed. "LOOK. AT. ME."
He couldn't ignore his sister. Desperate to see that was he was feeling was real, he opened his optics.
There, staring straight at him was nothing. His spark took a fateful plunge at the sight of the nothingness. Where was she? Where in Primus' name was she?! He pushed himself off the ground, kneeling, and looked around for a sign that she had been real – that what he had just felt was real. There wasn't even a whisper of her voice to calm him. Standing on wobbly legs, Ironhide gazed out onto the underwater wasteland. He slowly surveyed the land, not finding a shred of life. The soldier's head dropped and he stared at his chest. How could it be that his spark told him that it was real but none of his sensors confirm it? 'Maybe Ratchet was right. Maybe it is just a glitch inside my processors.'
"Open your optics," repeated her memory of her voice. "See through her lies."
"No," he firmly told himself. "I won't give into this insanity." Ironhide looked upwards with a tightly pulled face. "This is all just inside my head." It was a pathetic attempt to lie to his spark. Not even a sparkling would believe his lie. He took a deep breath, not really soothing anything. "It's all inside my head," he spoke soberly. "I know it is." Ironhide brushed his hand over his helm and traced the seams of his armor with his dull, brutish fingertips. A scowl grew across his face as he faced a decision he didn't want to make.
"Ironhide!" Chromia's voice shouted. In the distance he could see her pale form, looking at him. "Don't do it," she ordered. The femme hastily walked towards him. The sand muffled all sounds made by her feet, while the water amplified the clicking made by her moving parts. "You're being irrational, brother. Go back. Ratchet will make you better. Now."
"You're just inside my head," he told the ghost. "And I will make you go away indefinitely." Chromia's ghost continued to stare at Ironhide, even as he looked through her. "Sometimes it takes a decepticon practice to stop oneself from becoming a decepticon."
"You can't just delete me. I'm part of you, Ironhide," Chromia argued bitterly. "I'm too deeply engraved n your processor for you to remove me."
Ironhide, on this rare occasion, smirked. "The decepticons thought the same thing about Skywarp after his incident, but look at him now. He functions perfectly, fights bitterly until the end, and doesn't question anything. He takes his orders and performs them flawlessly. He just lives on like nothing ever happened." The soldier looked to the ghost. "Prime doesn't need someone weighted down by his past. He needs someone who can function and do what needs to be done."
"Ironhide," she spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't do this."
"This is out of both of our hands," he said soberly. "This is something I have to do if the autobots are to win the war." He grimly looked at her. "It's the only solution to this problem." The soldier pressed his forehead against the ghost's forehead, and wrapped his arms around the femme. "I don't want to forget either of you, or any of this for the matter, but I have to. I have no choice in the matter. If I'm to see through all these lies, then I have too." He paused for a moment, trying to recollect his last thoughts. "When I die, we can all laugh this whole stunt off together, okay? You, me, and Anna."
"We won't laugh this off because you won't remember, and Annabelle will be going to the Pit," Chromia stated bluntly.
He tightened his grip around the ghost. "Don't be pessimistic," Ironhide replied. "There are too many damn pessimists alive."
"I'm not being pessimistic," the femme combated. She lifted her head up to truthfully look at Ironhide. "I'm just your rational side you've kept buried, so that you could live blissfully without seeing Annabelle's lies." He took a step back, disgusted with the ghost. "I'm everything you've been scared of admitting was true about her, the autobots, the decepticons, and the war." Ironhide stared wearily at the ghost and stood guarded as Chromia continued to speak. "I'm your fear, your logic, your demons, your good and bad angels on your shoulder … I am part of you. That's why you can't get rid of me, brother. If you get rid of me, then you're getting rid part of yourself. So please, don't change your memories, because then I'll disappear." She stepped forward and placed a finger on his chest. "Everything you are will change. For all we know, you could end up becoming a decepticon. You could become the next Megatron. Do you really want to chance that, brother?"
Without looking down or a teaspoon of hesitation, Ironhide said flatly, "Yes." Chromia's face melted at the devastating, single word. Her face sunk, optics dimmed, and her mouth was a gap with a lack of answer. "It's a necessary evil that I have to do if I'm to be of any help. And becoming a decepticon will just be a risk I have to take. This is war after all, and we all have to sacrifice something in order to win it. It just happens to be that some of our sacrifices are bigger than others."
"You're wrong, brother," Chromia stated. "So, so wrong." She took a deep, stressful breath. "May Primus watch over your spark because you'll need his guidance for where you are going."
"Thanks for the confidence," he snorted sarcastically.
"I just don't want you to regret this in the end," she said frankly.
"How can I regret something when I won't remember what it felt like before I made this decision?" he questioned coldly.
"Because the others will remember," Chromia explained. "They'll explain to you your life before this decision. Then you'll dream about how good it is. And finally you'll end up wondering why you ever destroyed it."
"That'll just be another risk I'll have to take," he said.
"Well then," Chromia replied with a snide tone to her voice. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Ironhide growled angrily.
"I'm sorry that you let yourself be ruined by a corrupt human, brother" she attempted to say in a semi-civil manner voice. As she blinked, her body vanished into the nothingness. Her optics lingered longer than anything, so that they could silently say an informal good-bye to Ironhide; but the optics transformed, becoming part of a passing by, bioluminescent fish. But inside his spark, he still felt her lingering presence, watching and waiting for his next move.
They flew low over the ocean's calm surface, lower than what was comfortable for Thundercracker's liking. It wasn't that he was insecure about his flying skills – oh no, he was, like his commander, overconfident in his flying skills, probably more than what was healthy. He was, however, uncomfortably with leaving Skywarp behind in a tiny shack in the middle of nowhere … unattended, and in a fragile, he's-barely-able-to-speak state. It had taken physical force from Starscream before he left his bond-mate; even still, Thundercracker lightly considered turning around and abandoning the mission all together. It was a suicide mission anyway. There was no way that they could actually accomplish what Starscream had planned. No way. But his ever optimistic, overly confident brother seemed convinced otherwise. 'As always.'
As if Starscream knew what "traitorous" and plain "distasteful" thoughts his brother was thinking, he banked a hard left into Thundercracker. The blue-tinted, cameo jet swerved to avoid his wings being clipped by his commander. "What the hell was that for, Screamer?" Thundercracker snarled a little too angrily. "Are you trying to lower your chances at this plan succeeding on purpose or have your flying skills dramatically decreased because of the squishy's absence?"
"Ha ha, Thundercracker. That was hilarious. I doubt I'll be able to control my laughing because of how fucking hilarious it was," Starscream mocked over the frequency. He effortlessly glided over till his vehicule's shadow blanketed Thundercracker's earthly disguise. "I could have both of my wings cut off and one of my boosters missing, and I would still out best you in a display of aerospace maneuvering abilities." To reinforce his statement, the seeker deliberately accelerated so that his exhaust washed over Thundercracker's body. "Now," he said, more like shouted, sternly. "Stop complaining about Skywarp. He's a tough soldier and doesn't need you by his side every fucking klick. If you focused on this mission like you do his health, then we might get to return to base earlier."
'Or we might not,' he objected quietly to himself. 'We could end up in the autobots' prison, waiting to be tortured, then melted down for energon. Then Skywarp would rust away on this pathetic place or become an experiment for the fleshies like Megatron. There's a lot more that can go wrong, you fucking piece of – '
"It's time to put our petty differences aside, Thundercracker. You will be leading the Russian, Japanese, and Iranian air forces in the initial strike. The Iraqis will then provide you with enough cover, so that you may land and seek out the Lennox child," he explained matter-of-factly. "I'll then lead the second attack with the North Koreans, Pakistanis, Venezuelans, and Chinese. I will target sector thirty-four and retrieve the Allspark fragment. After I retrieve the fragment, you and I will take our appropriate leave – "
'More like retreat,' Thundercracker thought.
"While we're heading back to base, we'll allow the humans to destroy themselves and wage war on one another," Starscream continued. "At the same time, Barricade should be returning with Sam Witwicky and Bumblebee's head."
"What of the Lennox child?" Thundercracker asked.
"What of her?" Starscream retorted sorely.
"Do you want her dead or alive?" he asked neutrally, trying not to get upset over his commander's tone of voice.
"What kind of ridiculous question is that, Thundercracker?" Starscream insulted. "I want her dead. Unalive. Unbreathing. No beating heart. Nada life." He seemed flustered by the question, and accelerated further to disguise the weakness. The seeker 's wings subtly shook in the wind from his rage. 'How dare he insinuate that I'd want her any other way but dead!' he thought. 'He should know by now I don't let traitors live. All traitors deserve is death.' He soared upwards to join the approaching squadron of fighter jets. 'And she's the worst kind of traitor.' Starscream domineeringly took his place among the front of the squadron. He took a moment to savor the feeling of once again leading an offensive striking force against the autobots. His spark swelled with happiness. This, leading, was his place in the world. He knew it now, better than ever. There was no substitution for this kind of raw confidence. In the wrong hands, it could make a leader delirious and ignorant to the flaws in his plans. "Thundercracker," he barked. "I do not want her body. I just want her head. You can leave the remains for any survivors unlucky enough to live through our hell storm."
"Affirmative, mi'lord," Thundercracker reported. The seeker veered left, allowing his wing tip to grace through the ocean spray. His sensors detected his squadron flying together towards Diego Garcia. The aircrafts unusual stiffness in the air increased Thundercracker's worries that this mission, like so many others, would end in failure. How were they supposed to defeat the autobots with pilots who barely knew how to fly appropriately? Granted, the aircraft packed enough ammunition, but without the proper training, the fleshy pilots, might as well commit suicide bombing. 'It'd be more effective,' Thundercracker thought bitterly to himself. 'And 'cause fewer problems in the future.'
The seeker gracefully glided over the top of the aircrafts, surveying the pilots inside the cockpits. A few distracted pilots quickly glanced away to catch a glimpse of their temporary air commander. "Don't look at me!" he barked to them through the human radio frequency. "If you don't focus on your damn target, then you'll end up shot down by the autobots." Thundercracker found a snug place between the two leading aircraft to fly. "You fleshies will carry out this plan without any complains. Any complaints, and I will shoot you down right on the spot." The seeker waited for retaliation from one of the pilots, so that he could prove that he meant business; however, either the pilots were smarter than what he gave them credit for or too scared to speak because there was no reply to his threat. "I will lead the initial attack with the Russians. Then you Japs will follow through and provide air cover for me as I land. Then you Iranians will focus on destroying the main buildings and their escape routes. From there, the Russians will target the ground forces. Once I retrieve what we're after, then you will take commands from your squishy superiors. Affirmative?"
"Yes, Sir," replied the Russian pilot leader neutrally.
"Japs? Iranians?" Thundercracker questioned irritably.
"Affirmative," they replied hastily in unison.
"We're ready to strike on your command, mi'lord Starscream," Thundercracker informed.
"You may begin the strike then, Thundercracker," Starscream answered. "And remember, I want her dead. I will not have her in any other state or you will be the one to pay the price."
"As you wish, brother," he said quickly. Thundercracker broke away from the pack to transform. He could hear the humans' astonished gasps at the marvel of a jet transforming into something much more frightening. Vapor trails trailed behind the sharp edges of his armor, standing out in the crisp, clear sky. He rolled onto his back and personally glared at each of the leading pilots. "Begin executing the plan, you pathetic fleshlings," he growled. Thundercracker, true to his name, shook the atmosphere with his signature loud, thunder-cracking boom! The force was great enough that the waves on the ocean were affected and became larger from the transfer of energy. He was sure by now the humans and autobots on Diego Garcia were aware of their presence.
"So how's the mission going, Teecee?" Skywarp asked weakly through their private frequency.
Thundercracker was sure that if it weren't for the need to maintain his violent reputation among the humans, he would've dropped out of the sky with a shocked expression. "'Warp!" he criticized harshly. He didn't know whether he was more mad at his bond-mate for not following his medical orders or happy because he was strong enough to contact him."What are you doing talking! You're supposed to be recharging!"
"I hate recharging," he grumped. "It's a stupid way to pass time anyway. So how is the fucking mission going? You slain any fucking squishies? How many are dead?"
"We haven't killed any, 'Warp," his bond-mate responded. "We're just now readying out attack against them."
"What the hell is taking so fucking long that you haven't finished the fucking mission?" he questioned. "Oh wait, it's fucking Screamer. He takes so fucking long to do things. If Megatron were alive, then we'd have this fucking mission fucking finished and be on our way back to Cybertron. God, I wish Megs was still alive."
"Don't let Screamer know how you feel," Thundercracker warned. "If he hears that, then we'll both be dead."
"Oh, fuck Screamer," Skywarp replied nastily. "He's just a pathetic excuse for a fucking leader. Not to mention he's the fucking bond-mate to that traitorous Skyfire. I don't know why Megs ever gave him such a fucking high position. It's not like he's done anything fucking important, other than butcher all our fucking missions. He's a fucking failure, Thundercracker, and he deserves to have someone tell him that in his fucking face."
"'Warp, we don't need any more problems," Thundercracker chided. "I know you don't like. I certainly don't agree with his methods, but for now we have to go along with him. At least until Megatron is revived and can put that geeky Starscream in his place." He glanced down to see Diego Garcia within his firing range. He sighed, hating how time seemed to pass so quickly between them. "I have to go, 'Warp. I suspect the slags are going to open fire soon on us. Promise me you'll recharge until I return."
He could hear Skywarp groan on the other end of the frequency. "Fine," he breathed. "Just kill a few fucking humans in honor of me, 'kay?"
"I'll do my best, 'Warp," he said with a grim smile.
"That's my boy!" he replied excitingly before the frequency became quiet.
"We're ready to descend," the Russian pilot relayed to Thundercracker.
"Then begin descent," he ordered. "The quicker we get this done, the quicker we all get to come home." The decepticon scanned the island and took notice of the autobots lining up outside the building. The variety and different colors spanned the rainbow. They had their weapons ready as, like himself at the current moment, they scanned their enemy. He twisted his head thirty-five degrees to see the pilots scrambling towards their fighter jets. "Iranians, speed up and take out the American pigs before they get into the air. And if you see a black SR-71, alert either me or Lord Starscream. We'll take care of him personally."
He rolled in the air and took a deep breath to rid himself of the uneasy feeling in his spark. The seeker honestly couldn't remember when the last time he hadn't gone into battle without his bond-mate beside him. He realized, without Skywarp's jerky, cocky behavior to wipe away his fear that his doubts grew. So much could go wrong. If he didn't land just right, then one of the autobots could blow off one of his wings or engines. If he didn't keep a vigilant eye, then an autobot could sneak up on him, and there would be nothing he could do. If things started to go wrong, then there would be no Skywarp to teleport them to a safe place. If Starscream got in over his head, then it would be his, not Skywarp's, to bail their leader out of the hole he dug himself. If he couldn't find the girl, then –
Thundercracker felt the heat of a plasma blast brush over his right wing. The blast forced the seeker to ignore his nagging thoughts and to focus on the mission. His lips pulled back into a furious, primitive (even by his standards) snarl. "Let's go!" he howled over the frequency. "Move it Russians! I'm not going to wait on you any longer!" He lifted his right hand and took aim at the scrambling autobots. In rapid-fire succession, Thundercracker unleashed three missiles. He watched dismally as two of the missiles missed the pink autobot Arcee, but smirked as the third one made contact. Within several seconds, he felt the Russian missiles speed passed him. He'd seen autobots cowardly turn away from a fight, but never once in his many years as soldier, had he seen the autobots chaotically retreat. The gray shores burned intense white for several crucial moments; then the white light faded to yellow, orange, and red flames. The fences that guarded the facility melted from the high temperatures. Where there was once sand, was only burnt rock and abstract pieces of glass.
Confident that the autobots were scared like trapped rats, Thundercracker landed on the searing shore. In response to the heat, his wings bristled to avoid the full force of the heat. He took a few moments to idly watch the buildings erupt into flames. In between the roar of the flames and snarling airplane engines, the seeker could hear the scared humans yelling and the stupid humans barking out orders. From the side of his optics' view, he spotted a shadow moving among the flames. The cool colors of the armor stood out amongst the flames. The seeker transformed his hand into a rapid-fire machine gun. As soon as he lifted his hand to take aim, it was flung back into his face. The decepticon stumbled backwards, barely regaining his balance. Snarling, Thundercracker attempted to take aim again, but his time was cut short as Jolt rushed forward and kicked his hand.
Thundercracker howled at the sudden attack. Jolt jumped on top of the seeker and pinned him firmly to the ground. "I'm so tired of your decepticon bullshit," he muttered through his battle mask. The autobot lifted one hand and transformed the said freehand into a short, plasma-powered sword. The edges and section glowed eerily white with a faint accent of blue. "I can't wait for the day when we eradicate the last of your savageness from the universe." Jolt glared hatefully down at the seeker. "You don't deserve this fate. It's going to easy on your despicable kind." The edges of Thundercracker's mouth pulled into a seething scowl. "You deserve to live forever so that you can endure the kind of torture you did to my comrades." He raised the sword higher, preparing to strike Thundercracker in the chest. "May Primus ha – "
The autobots toppled over onto the ground, unconscious. His chest burned with the signature smoke from a null-ray blast. Thundercracker looked up to see his brother passing by him. "You'd better do better than that, Thundercracker," Starscream commented bitterly. He pushed himself off the ground, glaring angrily at his commander. He took a deep breath and let the incident slid off. Arguing with Starscream over who the better fighter was would have to wait till later.
The seeker marched wearily through the flames with the intentions of not having another Jolt-like accident. He touched the outside of the first burning building and pressed lightly against the crumbling wall. He quickly backed away at the eerie sound of crackling and crumbling. He turned his head away as the wall and roof of the building collapsed. Dusted and soot rained down on the sentient beings like rain. Thundercracker cautiously walked into the burning ruins. His head shot up at the sound of another building tumbling to the ground. 'Shit,' he thought. "Target only the enemy! If anymore buildings are destroyed, then we run the chance of the mission failing, dumb twats!" The sight of a jet becoming swallowed by the ocean distracted his optics.
"GOT ONE!" Cliffjumper screamed excitingly in the distance.
'Gotta hurry,' yelled that doubtful voice inside his processors. 'Gotta hurry now, Teecee!'
"And I found another one!" Sunstreaker yelled, his voice too close for comfort.
"Ditto!" sounded off Sideswipe.
Through the smoke, he could detect the twins standing at the other end of the collapsed building. "We can see you!" Sunstreaker sang happily. "And you have no where to go." The yellow mech strutted forward with his sub machine, plasma gun armed and aimed at the seeker. It surprised the seeker to see the yellow twin with no marks on his armor. It still gleamed flawlessly and reflected the fires off its shiny surface. Thundercracker stood still, his eyes focused on Sideswipe. The red twin raised a machine gun to the seeker, smiling maliciously at their prize. "Where's your buddy today, Thundercracker?" Sunstreaker asked. "Did he decide to stay home like a coward or was Mirage simply too much for him to handle?"
Thundercracker narrowed his orange, death gaze on the arrogant autobot. No one insulted his spark-mate., especially a filthy autoslag. "Designation: droid oh-oh-two. Command: eliminate Sunstreaker," he informed. The blue mech lifted his head smugly in the air and smirked boldly.
"What are you so god damn happy about, asshole?" Sunstreaker asked sourly.
"This," Thundercracker replied assertively. His wicked smile grew as he watched the scene unfold. Sideswipe shifted the position of his aim and placed the hot-ended section of his machine gun against the middle of Sunstreaker's back. Sunstreaker's optics enlarged, as the first sound of multiple rounds being fired entered his audio sensors. His internal diagnostic systems had only half a second to analyze the damage before he fell to the floor. The yellow mech's lively blue optics stared off distantly into another world. The color drained from his optics and turned a ghostly, ash gray. His body sunk and relaxed for the last time. Thundercracker took a step forward and looked down on the young mech. Perfectly circular holes dotted his back and went straight through his chest. A tiny, dying glow emitted from the spark chamber as his spark fought to stay alive. The seeker lifted his foot and crushed Sunstreaker's chest to insure his spark would never glow again.
The seeker removed his foot and stared sympathetically down at the young 'bot. "I'm sorry, young one," he breathed genuinely. "You shouldn't have to die for Prime's war." He bent down and carefully lifted the crushed the spark chamber. He cupped it in his hands like a small child. "But at least you're safe now, young one." His closed his optics and bowed his head. Everything in his spark told him that this, holding the spark chamber of a young one, was wrong. It violated every code of honor programmed into his processors. 'This isn't your job,' the doubtful voice in his head murmured. 'This isn't what you are supposed to do. This is wrong.' He solemnly opened his optics. "He is my enemy," Thundercracker told himself. "He's not the same as he first was when he was spawned." He charily tucked the remains of the spark chamber inside his chest compartment.
He tore his attention away from Sunstreaker's remains and focused on the Sideswipe droid standing in front of him. "Oh-oh-two," Thundercracker ordered. The droid looked up at his superior with soulless eyes. "Objective: search files for Annabelle Leann Lennox."
"Objective completed: files of Annabelle Leann Lennox located," it responded.
"Objective: relay coordinates of Annabelle Leann Lennox," he informed.
"Completed. Location: building oh-five. Four hundred and fifty-two paces due west."
"Good," he complimented. "Objective: clear a path to building oh-five. Take out any and all autobots who confront you." The droid nodded before jogging off to complete its assigned task. Thundercracker watched the droid for several seconds, and then assured that the droid wouldn't fail, he spun around to witness Jetfire flying overhead. He thought a moment, deciding whether engaging Jetfire was morally right since Skywarp's accident. The longer he watched Jetfire take out airplanes, the more his understanding gaze turned livid and aggressive. He took off, swerving to avoid gunfire and missiles. Why should he spare Jetfire? He had allowed Mirage to almost get away with stealing his bond-mate's life. It was his fault that Skywarp was in the shape he was in. It was his fault, all his fault!
His body slammed into Jetfire's, causing them both to freefall towards the ground. Thundercracker wrapped his claws around the autobot's back and clung to him as they descended. Jetfire, dazed from the sudden attack, braced for impact. The black mech his the ground shoulder first, then chest. Jetfire cried out as his systems were overloaded and interfered from the impact. His blue optics fluttered on and off as he struggled to keep up with time. He felt a warm, vengeful hand grip his left wing and rip it from his shoulder. The scientist howled as his remaining wing was pulled from his back. Desperate to get the perpetrator off his back, he reached around and clamped his overly large hand on the assailant's arm. Jetfire flung Thundercracker onto the ground. The seeker whimpered as the twin engines along his back were squashed underneath his weight.
Jetfire struggled to his feet and moaned to vent the pain radiating from his shoulders. Purple energon dripped down his arms and chest, and alerted him to severity of the injury. His systems cut off energon flow to the injured sights to conserve energy. He looked tiredly up to receive a punch directly aimed at his left optic. The autobot stumbled backwards and caught him on a building. With fuzzy vision, Jetfire watched Thundercracker saunter forward. He didn't sport a vicious grin like his bond-mate would have; instead his lips were pulled into a hurtful scowl that exposed his sharp teeth. Jetfire raised his right arm and unleashed a plasma blast. The seeker stopped in his tracks to take the blast to his shoulder, but the blast didn't wipe away the enraged, betrayed look in Thundercracker's optics. If anything, it only fueled the fire smoldering inside his spark.
Jetfire fired again, but Thundercracker was quick to avoid the blast. The decepticon swung his arm around, caught Jetfire's right hand, and twisted it until he heard the elbow joints breaking from the stress. With his freehand, the autobot struck Thundercracker in the helm; which was enough for the seeker to release his death grip. While Thundercracker was briefly recovering from the impact, Jetfire transformed his left hand into an eight-sided mace. He swung his weapon, clipping the edge of the seeker's wing. Thundercracker toppled onto the ground from the pain. Thundercracker's optics were filled with diagnostics about his current condition and flooded with the terrifying information that Jetfire was swinging his club again. The seeker's shrill scream silenced all other noise in the vicinity. His free hand moved to cover up the wound on his chest. He felt his fingers become soaked in his own energon.
A black hand seized his neck and lifted his weakened body off the ground, as if Thundercracker were only a ragdoll. "Go home," Jetfire ordered. "And don't return or I will be forced to kill you, Thundercracker."
The seeker, blinded by the pain, smiled like a drunk at the autobot. A small chuckle bubbled to the surface, but quickly dissipated as his energy levels were being depleted. His head rolled back as he fluttered near unconsciousness, but determined to remain conscious Thundercracker forced his head forward. He focused his injured optics on Jetfire's unclear image. "I don't take threats from traitors," he spat. In one last attempt, he raised his gun and fired at Jetfire's chest. His neck was released and Thundercracker fell to the ground. He could energon dripping from the autobot's chest, just above the spark chamber. Jetfire swayed for a few seconds, trying desperately to cling to consciousness, before tumbled over onto the ground. The seeker pushed his body off the ground and stepped over Jetfire's legs.
"Thundercracker, have you retrieved the girl yet?" screeched his commander's voice.
"No, brother," he replied.
"Then get her now!" he barked. "The fragment is within my grasps and as soon as I get it, we're out of this fleshy hellhole."
"Yes, mi'lord," the seeker answered hastily. Thundercracker moved quickly through the burning debris. He winced as his pressure sensors continued to register pain along his chest wound. He placed his hand over the wound, to helplessly try to stop the energon from leaking out. The last thing he wanted was to leave a perfect trail of energon for the autobots to follow. 'Be my luck,' he thought grimly. He ducked underneath a caving roof. His wing tips scraped against the top of the building, creating a low hissing sound as the metal grinded against metal. Through the thin walls, he could hear the humans calling for back up over their primitive radio communication device. The sounds of gunfire from the jets, the moaning of buildings, and groaning from the fire stopped the seeker from hearing the reply to the distress call. He stared ahead through the smoke, where he could see Moonracer's silhouette. He drew out his gun and took aim, but to his disappointment and relief, the blue femme's body toppled onto the ground. Standing over the body, Thundercracker could make out the droid's red accents.
"Droid," he called. "Objective: provide protection for Thundercracker."
"Complication," it responded lifelessly. "First objective: uncompleted."
Thundercracker stormed passed the droid, looking at the building with the numbers oh-five written on the side. "First objective: deleted. Objective: provide protection for Thundercracker. Eliminate all known enemies," he growled at the droid. The droid nodded and followed behind his master. It's red head pivoted around as it tried to assess the surroundings. Thundercracker, meanwhile, swiped a hole through the side of the building and then ripped off a section of the black roof. He glared down at the scurrying humans with unrelenting disgust. 'And the autobots honestly think these things are worth saving?' he questioned. The decepticon stepped inside the building, careful to avoid squishing fleshy fluids on his armor. His optics flinched at the sounds of bullets being fired at him. He bent down and swiped away the shooters. He flashed his attention towards a slow moving human. Thundercracker lashed out and caught Galloway by his chest.
The decepticon lifted the human up to his eye level. "Where is Annabelle Leann Lennox?" Thundercracker demanded ruthlessly. He shook the human violently and snarled at him, but the human was too terrified to speak. Galloway's wrinkled face was frozen like a glitch computer and his mind blank. "Stupid thing!" the seeker complained. "I'll find her myself." He tossed the tiny alien against the wall, watching with a superior look as the old man fell like a limp ragdoll to the floor. His sensors alerted him to another formidable presence in the room. He turned tiredly to see Ratchet looming across the hanger. The medic drew out his saw and gun; while looking like a mad hatchet man at the seeker.
"Droid. First Objective: deleted. Objective: Imitate Sideswipe." Quickly improvising, the seeker grabbed hold of the droid by the shoulder. Thundercracker held his gun to the droid's chest. The droid pretended to squirm and cry out curse sayings in their native tongue. "Shoot me and I'll kill Sideswipe like I did he brother," the seeker bluffed. "If you give me the girl, I'll let you keep this piece of trash for a soldier." The medic remained unmoved and continued to aim his weapon at the seeker's injured chest. Thundercracker cocked his with a serious manner about him. "C'mon, medic. What's more important? Sideswipe or some alien?"
Ratchet's stern face turned grimly solemn at the offer the seeker was giving him. Every programmed instinct inside the autobot cried for him to reject the offer and open fire, but his instinctive loyalty to his race was screaming at him, demanding that he hand over the girl. The girl wasn't part of their race or species. The girl was a foreign liability at best and a form of suicide at worst. "I don't accept offers from enemies," Ratchet returned firmly. He looked the mad seeker in the eye. "You won't get the girl."
"Well then," Thundercracker mused. "I guess this'll get messy." He pushed the droid forward and opened fired on Ratchet. "Droid. First Objective: deleted. Objective: eliminate Ratchet." The droid immediately opened fired on the autobot. Thundercracker ducked behind the droid to avoid Ratchet's fire before racing off towards the door to his right. From the corner of his optics, he watched the droid and Ratchet collide. 'Stop watching!' reminded a part of him. 'You've got a job to do!' Thundercracker kicked through the thin metal wall and walked into the next room.
The seeker hunched over to avoid scrapping his head against the roof. His feet cracked the cemented floor as he surveyed the room. In the far, a cluster of humans huddled together. Their eyes were filled with sheer terror as the enemy turned towards them. One face stood out among the fleshlings, and unlike the others, she met his terrifying gaze with acceptance. Annabelle neither smiled nor scowled at him, merely watching him with a neutral look. Sarah selfishly wrapped her skinny arms around her daughter and bared her teeth as the alien. Thundercracker laughed at the fleshy. "Do you think I'm intimidated by your teeth?" he asked with an annoyed tone. He moved forward, sending all but two (Annabelle and Sarah) running towards the hanger. He squatted down with a toothy grin, but still, the mother didn't run. "You must be really stupid if you're gonna stay here."
Anna winced as her mother tightened her grip. "You'll never take my daughter, you filthy piece of shit!" Sarah yelled. The mother's distressed eyes produced tears that dripped down her stressed and tightly pulled face. "You'll have to kill me if you to get to my daughter."
"Mom!" Annabelle protested.
"I could do that," Thundercracker said with a sinister grin. "I'd love to do that, fleshy." He could sense the fear starting to infect Sarah. The edges of her scowl weren't nearly as strong and her hold onto Annabelle was to prevent her body from shacking with fear. He slipped his fingers between the mother and daughter before closing his grip around Anna. "But I've got a job to finish, and my boss would be awfully mad at me for self indulging at a time like this." Sarah's arm shot out to reach for Annabelle as the alien pulled his objective closer to him. "I would take this moment to run, fleshy, or I might slip up and self indulge." The blue seeker stood up and used his free hand to create a hole in the ceiling. Bits and pieces of the roof fell to the floor, sending the mother running. Thundercracker looked then at his – when did she start bleeding? He focused his optics on Annabelle's head. A two-inch gash across her head was the source for the leaking red fluid. 'Must've gotten hit when I got rid of the roof,' her surmised. 'At least you'll be unconscious and won't feel this.'
He opened his hand and rolled her floppy body across his palm. He brushed a claw across her neck, thinking of how simple it would be to disconnect the head from the body. 'Lucky bastard, at least you get a quick death,' he thought. He lifted his head up at the familiar sound of his brother's shrill cry. Across the mile of turmoil and destruction that separated the two, Thundercracker could make out Starscream's body. The tan seeker stumbled out "cave" that once held the Allspark fragment. In his right hand, their leader held his detached, left arm and used it as a shield for the incoming blasts. From the smoke coming from the cave, Optimus Prime emerged with swords drawn out. The autobot leader transformed his swords into an ion blaster. Starscream turned around to use his arm to deflect the first blast, but he was not quick enough to avoid the second blast to his wings.
From behind, Jetfire staggered forth with his energy rifle ready to fire. "Starscream!" Thundercracker yelled. "Jetfire is coming from behind you!" He threw the human into his cockpit and began to fly towards his brother. Starscream whirled around, catching Jetfire by his chest plate. The seeker shifted his weight, first moving towards Optimus, and then rotating around so that the black autobot was in front of him. Jetfire's good hand wrapped around the seeker's back, grabbed hold of Starscream's waist, and drew the seeker close to his chest. Thundercracker witnessed Jetfire's blue optics burn whiter than a newborn sun as Prime's ion blast devastated his chest. Jetfire clutched onto Starscream as his main systems began to fail. The autobot's legs buckled underneath his weight and he leaned in desperately towards Starscream. The black slipped from the seeker's waist as he slid to the ground. Starscream impatiently kicked Jetfire off of him and backed away.
Thundercracker slid on the ground, waiting for Jetfire to rise again, but the giant mech lied on the ground. The black mech's optics focused on Starscream, even as their color began to drain. Thundercracker's spark froze as the inevitable came full circle. His blue optics shuttered, but still they bled with emotion. The blue seeker couldn't tear his optics away from the sight, no matter how hard he tried. 'Don't leave me, brother,' he could read in Jetfire's eyes. 'Don't leave me to die alone. Please, you're my brother. Help.'
A cold hand was suffocating Thundercracker's spark. He had wanted Skyfire to pay for hurting and nearly killing his bond-mate, but he'd already received his punishment. This, dying, was not something a 'bot like Jetfire deserved. He looked towards Starscream, but his leader was too busy ignoring and firing shots at Optimus to see Jetfire's unspoken words. Rage filled Thundercracker, and he felt his circuits shake from the unvented rage. How could Starscream just ignore his brother like that?! How?! Did Starscream have no respect for brother-hood. Thundercracker's cooling system kicked in as his spark produced too much energy for his body to safely handle. He clutched his hands and readied for them to transform when Jetfire's optics lost the last of their lively, blue hue. Just as quickly, all his energy was sapped from his body.
His body lurched forward as Ratchet fired on his back, but Thundercracker barely registered the pain. He was too consumed with the sight of Jetfire's body. The second blast from Ratchet finally brought the seeker back to the present. The medic walked forward with a tiny hitch in his gait. Red scratches from the droid littered his neon yellow paint job. With humbled eyes, Thundercracker stared frankly at the medic. Ratchet stopped in his tracks and met the seeker's gaze. The seeker was sure the medic could see the guilt hidden behind his optics. 'He can probably see everything,' muttered the voice. 'That's why he's not attacking.' He turned his head away, ashamed of what Ratchet could see. "I will fulfill my promise to Skyfire, Ratchet," Thundercracker swore. His voice was soft enough that Ratchet had a hard time catching his words. The seeker looked out to the field and watched as his brother take cover among the fighter jets. "When Starscream no longer needs, I will return her to you alive – an innocent life for another innocent life."
"We're coming, Ratchet!" called Powerglide.
Thundercracker kicked off from the ground to rejoin his brother in the sky. He easily weaved through the fighter jets and found his place beside Starscream. The blue seeker looked at his brother's detached arm, already loathing how he'll have to attend to Starscream's medical needs before Skywarp's. Starscream gave Thundercracker an uneasy glare. "Did you retrieve the girl?" he asked sourly.
"Affirmative," Thundercracker replied emotionlessly.
"Good," he complimented. Starscream looked forward towards the descending sun. "Finally, this god awful day is ending." Thundercracker watched his brother's far off gaze, as if Starscream were looking at what tomorrow and the future held. "And we, all Cybertronians, can look forward to a new day." An accomplished and proud smile spread across his scratched and energon-stained face. His brother's optics gleamed with a rare emotion as he soaked himself with pride: hope. "Peace, will finally reign over our beautiful Cybertron, Thundercracker."
'Only if we can make it through the night,' Thundercracker thought grimly.
Question: so do you guys think Skyfire took the hit for Starscream on purpose, did Optimus purposely shoot Skyfire, or was Skyfire just at the wrong place at the wrong time?
And just to clear up any confusion, waaaaay back in chapter 14, Jetfire went to retrieve Sideswipe. Well, he got a droid that was designed to mimic the actual Sideswipe. It was nice planning on TC and Barricade's part if I do say so myself.