The cool pre-dawn air whistled softly through Moonflight's feathers as the big Predacon cut through the sky at just under the speed of sound. His dark red optics were narrowed, searching the terrain below him for any sign of the danger that he and his friends all sensed.
Something's here, I'm sure of it. He thought, before a slight blink from below caught his attention. He turned skillfully, his joints creaking slightly at the sharp angle with which he turned as he made another pass. He narrowed his optics even further, dropping his speed so that he could check the area a little more thoroughly. Then everything fell into chaos.
It all happened so fast that even the Predacon's optics couldn't track it. A slight movement off to his left made him turn his head; at the same time, something launched into the air directly below him, screaming towards him so fast that he had no time to react. The pain sensors in his chest and abdomen screamed as a spiked chain and ball slammed into him, wrapping around him swiftly, then the ball smashed to a halt and snapped his right wing. He plummeted from the sky, struggling to use his good wing to stay aloft as he opened an emergency channel with the pack.
"I'm hit, going down!" Was all Moonflight managed to get out before his broken wing gave out and the weight from his hobble dragged him face-first through the tree canopy, then he slammed into the dirt and loam of the forest floor. Despite his shock at having been downed, he managed to twist and use his talons to cut through one piece of his bindings. Rising swiftly to his feet, the Predacon shook himself loose, transforming as swiftly as he could as his attackers charged him from the shadows. His broken limb screamed but he drew his energon blade in spite of the pain, raising it swiftly enough to carve off the foreleg of a bear-like Cybertronian that leaped at him.
The beast screamed in pain as Moonflight turned seamlessly, his broken arm clasped tightly to the damaged armor of his chest as he put his weight behind his blade and sliced into another enemy that was in mid-spring, jaws wide and ready to crush his armor. This one fell silently, Moonflight's blade having taken off its lower jaw and half its head all in one cut. The Predacon was surrounded and he knew it, but he refused to back down, putting his faith in the four wolves that had become the family that he had yearned for his entire life.
Warrior Star won't leave me to die. None of them will. He thought, his blade singing through the air as energon splattered and the wounded screamed, filling the forest with the haunting sound of battle as the Predacon fought on.
Breaksteel had been following Warrior Star and her pack ever since she had let him go, his yearning for a peaceful life away from constant fighting and war being overpowered by something he had sensed from the massive bronze femme. She had known pain and loss and devastation, he could tell. From the look in her cobalt blue optics to the scars criss-crossing every plate of thick armor, Breaksteel knew that she was a fighter, loyal and dedicated to those she cared for, and merciless and lethal to those she called her enemies.
She was also a legend. He knew her designation. Every mech and femme that had been online since before the war began knew the bronze femme's designation. She was the kind of femme that stories were told about, the kind of femme that sparklings idolized, the kind of femme that legends were born from.
Warrior Star was the type of Guardian that made other Cybertronians remember why the class was both respected and feared, back in the days when peace was still real. Patient and kind, but powerful and deadly. Merciful to those she saved, merciless to those she punished. She was what the Guardians were always meant to be. Fearless and proud and wise. She was one of the last Guardians online, and it grieved Breaksteel immensely.
A sudden, sharp movement from the bronze femme in question brought Breaksteel's attention immediately. The femme had been standing quietly, but then her head shot up sharply, her cobalt blue optics widening with momentary surprise before narrowing with a deadly understanding. A snarl crossed her fearsome jaws, exposing every jagged, lethal silver dental, then she launched herself forward with a sharp, commanding bark that had her three brothers falling in line behind her immediately. They crashed forward into the trees, disappearing faster than most would believe possible, and Breaksteel charged forward in their wake.
Despite his injured leg, the storm gray mech was fast, and he managed to stay within a close enough distance to see the back runner, the huge black mech with gold optics. Breaksteel hoped that Warrior Star's brothers hadn't noticed him, but he really didn't care. Something was wrong, and he wanted to know what.
The sounds of battle echoed in the distance, and Breaksteel unconsciously increased his speed, feeling his spark sinking in his chest. He had come to Earth to escape the war, but he found himself right back in the middle of it. However, the scene that greeted his light yellow optics was enough to bring him slamming to a halt in shock.
A huge mech, the Predacon that Breaksteel had heard one of the wolves call Moonflight, was fighting valiantly against a group of mechs that the storm gray mech realized he recognized. The four wolves had already launched themselves into the fray, defending the injured Predacon with paws, jaws, and claws. But it wasn't the realization that he knew the mechs battling in front of him that had Breaksteel frozen in shock; it was something else.
At the edge of the battle, a big, dark mech prowled silently, his near-black optics focused wholly on Warrior Star, where she battled alongside her brothers. He stepped into the golden rays of the slowly rising sun, the light exposing dents and scars all across his huge frame as his serrated dentals gleamed with a deadly brilliance in the rising light. Huge paws with long black claws dug into the dirt beneath him as every powerful step moved him closer and closer to his target. His smoke colored armor flashed in the light, and every mech before him scrambled to get out of his way. It was the look in those strange dark optics, the sheer murderous intent and a sick sort of joy, that finally galvanized Breaksteel into moving.
Injury reports and system warnings disappeared from his processor. His pain was gone as he charged forward faster than he ever had before, feeling a towering rage building in his spark until all conscious thought was gone. The roar that erupted from his jaws brought the battle before him to a screeching halt, and every optic turned to him as he snapped his jaws closed on the dark mech's muzzle before twisting to fling him across the clearing. The other mech smashed to a halt after breaking through several trees, but regained his feet swiftly and with a practiced ease that had Breaksteel snarling in anger. But what shocked him the most was the dark laughter that left the other mech's mighty chest.
"Hahaha, I was wondering when you'd show up. You've always been such a do-gooder. Sitting outside, playing and just generally being irresponsible, while mechs like me and my gang struggled and died in the mines. You always were mother's favorite. Spoiled and cared for…little brother." Breaksteel's anger only grew at the dark mech's words, and he stepped forward slowly and with murderous intent, his light yellow optics glittering with fury as he snarled his response.
"At least I didn't take my rage out on the whole world when my dreams didn't work out the way I wanted. You always wanted to be a Guardian so bad, but they saw beyond your façade. They saw your rage and your sick love of inflicting pain on others. They knew you weren't worthy. It's your own fault you ended up in the mines with the rest of the ruffians. All I longed for was peace, but no. The war was unavoidable. You used the war as an excuse. I know what you've done. I'm your brother, we still have that bond, even if it is stretched. You're a murderer. You were the one that killed the two most legendary Guardians Cybertron had ever known. And I wonder if you've been paying enough attention to realize exactly who these four wolves are…because they are the creations of Saber and Stardust. You killed their creators. You're the one they've been searching for the whole time." With each word he spoke, Breaksteel took a step, forcing the dark mech backwards in circles all around the clearing. And with each word, the storm gray mech could sense the anger of the four Guardians behind him growing. And the moment he revealed that his brother had killed Warrior Star's creators, he sensed something in the bronze femme snap. She advanced slowly, until she stood shoulder to shoulder with him, glaring at the dark mech across from her as she softly growled a question to him.
"Breaksteel, tell me one thing. Tell me the designation of this mech, so that I can curse his name when I send him to the pits for killing my creators." Warrior Star's voice was trembling with rage, and her cobalt blue optics were fixed on the dark mech with a pained wrath that Breaksteel understood all too well. He lowered his head, turning to look at her as he spoke, knowing that the second he did, she'd charge.
"Steelbite. His designation is Steelbite."
A/N: Blah. Late chapter. Like real late. Been a busy few weeks...training, training, and more training. Phew. I'm tired. lol
In all honestly, I hate Breaksteel's little speech. Just doesn't feel right to me. But I can't think of a better way to write it and I wanna post this since I haven't posted anything in forever. I'll have to live with it.
To my lovely reviewers and readers and favoriters and followers, ya'll are such an inspiration for me! Thank you all so much! :)
As always, love if you will, hate if you must. I will take anything that you care to dispense.
Until we meet again...
Kani