A/N: I hope you'll enjoy this chapter; it was a lot of fun to write. I also tried to give more insight into Dezba's and Thundercracker's characters. Hope you enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.
Chapter Eleven: Pain Always Comes Two-Fold
For almost two days, Dezba had stayed in her little cell with little to no contact from any of the Decepticons. Fortunately for her, at the least the Cons had the sense to keep her in a cell with a built-in latrine, but even Thundercracker had no contact with her, both physically and mentally. The only time she saw anyone was when Barricade entered to give her her daily ration. He never spoke to her and she returned the favor.
Something was up; she had that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, she could hear shouting and loud bangs that more often than not were felt as well as heard. She didn't like not knowing what was going on around her and Thundercracker's prolonged silence only made her feel all the more anxious.
She hated to admit it but lately she had come to regard the big blue jet as something like a friend. Dezba had never really had a true friend. All through school—elementary, middle, and even high school, her peers had teased and picked on her. Dezba had never had the urge to go shopping for hours on end or ogle hot guys while walking the school hallways. All things that girls normally did she found hollow and superficial. Dezba had always preferred reading a good book to going shopping or learning the valuable properties of wild herbs and plants with her mother versus chatting on the phone about nonsense. She valued her heritage and her mother's teachings, perhaps more than personal friendships; not too many young people could understand that. A small chuckle slipped through her lips. It was on more than one occasion her mother had to come to school to pick her daughter up after detention for fighting. Naturally, fighting didn't improve Dezba's image in her peer's eyes. Well at least I know how to take care of myself should the need ever arrive.
Her thoughts slipped to her mother. Anaba had never chastised her daughter for fighting, just warned her to make sure that she never started the conflicts. Her mother. Oh how I miss her, and father too. Tears wet the corners of her eyes. She was alone now; she had to take care of herself. Well, not tee totally alone—there was Thundercracker. The strange alien being who had taken her from death's cruel grasp, the being with whom she now had an unprecedented link. Since her time with the Cons the blue Eagle had at least spoken with her, had helped her sort through the anomalies of her mind, and had become quite literally the voice of reason in her head. But his absence was becoming increasingly worrisome. Is he setting me up? That one thought had continuously plagued her mind over the past 48 hours. She shook her head irritably. No. It couldn't be true. Could it? Then again the blue jet was one of them. She slumped against the cold, concrete wall. Damn, why did life have to be so complicated? Just then, the door to the prison quarters swung open revealing a mech she had never seen before.
Soundwave. The very name of the Decepticon Communications Officer sent shivers through Autobots and Decepticons alike. Cold, calculating, driven by sheer logic the mech was all but sparkless. Many a mech and femme had off-lined under the intense mental probing powers that he possessed.
Between Shockwave and himself they had easily secured the remnants of Cybertron and scattered the remaining Autobot forces across the galaxy. With the Autobots ousted, Soundwave had reported to Earth leaving a small group of Decepticons to guard Cybertron. Upon his arrival to Earth (along with Runabout and Runamuck) they each had scanned an Earth alt mode—Soundwave, an F-117 Nighthawk, Runabout and Runamuck, Dodge Vipers, white and black respectively. After finding suitable disguises the trio rendezvoused with Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp and headed back to Decepticon headquarters.
Back at base, Soundwave was briefed on the events of Mission City and those thereafter. And as cold and logical as he was, the Communications Officer took joy in doing one thing—interrogations.
"Rumble: Eject. Bring human hostage."
Dezba had quickly risen to her feet upon the entrance of the visitor. She stood with her back to the wall, eyes bright with apprehension. When the mech's cockpit began to open, she began to tremble. Suddenly, a smaller robot hopped out of the larger's chest compartment. He was a little taller than her, but no less intimidating. His deep purple armor flashed in the dim light as the little 'bot opened the door to her cell. He was a somewhat blocky robot, with thick arms and legs. He reminded Dezba of what a bouncer should look like.
"No problem, Soundwave," he spoke in English. With a resounding clang the door banged open.
Oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!
As the intruder entered her cell Dezba prepared herself for the fight. He lunged, intent on grabbing the scrawny human. She dived under his arms and made a break for the opposite side of the cell. Rumble recovered quickly and pivoted 180 degrees; he viciously kicked the retreating girl in the back and sent her sprawling to the floor. Dezba hit the concrete with a sickening thud, her breath rushed from her lungs with a whoosh, and a fiery pain ripped through her lower back. Vice-like hands gripped her shoulders and hauled her roughly to her feet.
Dezba struggled to regain her footing while biting back the screams of pain resonating from her shoulders and back. The purple mini-bot followed Soundwave out of the holding cells and into the corridor. Her mind was racing at 100 mph. What in the hell is happening? Who are these jerks…Where is Thundercracker?
After navigating several hallways they soon came to an open doorway. The robot named Soundwave stepped inside and to the left revealing a room bare of any furniture with the exception of a small table in the center. Rumble shoved the girl inside then stepped back to the wall, beside Soundwave. Said mech turned and faced her; it was the first time she was able to get a good look of the newcomer.
He was tall, probably as tall if not taller than Starscream. She recognized the sharp angular features of the Nighthawk aircraft that composed his black armor. Unlike the other Cons, this one had a shiny, reflective red visor that hid his optics from view. An air of superiority surrounded him and Dezba shivered involuntary. Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go as well as the one she had with Thundercracker.
"Human, get on the table," a resonant monotone echoed throughout the room.
"Screw you," Dezba spat.
The red visor glinted menacingly. With a whir of gears, the Decepticon's arm transformed into a very large and intimidating gun. "I will not repeat request again."
Dezba stared into the open maw of the weapon, quickly weighing her options—resist, die, comply. She chose the latter. With a grunt she hopped onto the table then turned and faced this new threat. She tried to ignore the steady throb in her lower back.
Once the human complied, Soundwave replaced his weapon with his hand and walked over to the girl. Dezba cringed slightly as his shadow covered the table. She was expecting more questions and more threats, but they never came. Are we just gonna stand here and have a Mexican stand-off or what?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a searing pain ripped from the front of head, between her eyes to the base of her neck. Dezba screamed in agony as the pain increased. She lay back on the table curling into the fetal position, hands holding her head. It felt as if all the blood in her body had suddenly flooded her brain and was threatening to break through her eardrums. It was pure, unbridled agony. Then she felt a presence. It was not the calm, assertive presence that she had hoped to feel over the past two days. No, this presence felt like ice water in the dead of a Minnesota winter. It rushed through her mind with a force and fury she had never felt before and never wanted to feel again. And the pain only intensified with each passing second.
Another scream filled the room and Dezba felt herself break into a cold sweat. The presence continued to swirl about within her head--searching, plundering, and raping her mind. Memories flashed by like scenery from a bullet train and with every flash a torrent of agony. She rolled and thrashed on the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her once glossy black hair spiderwebbed across her face in dull, wet tendrils. She was barely aware that Rumble had come over and had grasped her shoulders in an attempt to quell her struggles.
Soundwave continued to dig deeper and deeper into the human's mind. Each memory he came to he scanned quickly then discarded it as if it were scrap paper, moving from one to another. His victim's screams of pain was like music to his audios. No amount of physical pain could compare to mental anguish.
Abruptly the content of the human's mind changed. He paused in his ravaging to behold the sight before him. A wall had appeared; it crackled and glimmered in a bluish-white light. Ancient Cybertronian glyphs decorated its surface, glyphs Soundwave had not seen since the AllSpark was cast from Cybertron. It stretched indefinitely within the expanse of the human's mind; there was no end or beginning in sight. What was this? Well, whatever it was only confirmed Soundwave's suspicions about the girl. With a rush of power he charged the wall intent on breaking through. Like a whiplash the bluish-white light snapped at his presence, temporarily shocking the telepath all the way to his processor. It was a powerful defensive move and one not made by the girl alone. Suddenly a human appeared before him. He was tall and lean with long, flowing black hair, but the most striking feature about the fleshling were the eyes. They were a brilliant blue-white; a violent contrast to the copper-colored skin. He raised his hands then pointed at Soundwave and said:
"You are not the chosen one."
Soundwave staggered back away from the table, his mental probing immediately cut-short. He held his head in one hand, trying to ease the pounding in his processor. He looked over at the human, still being held down by Rumble. She moaned softly, but her wild thrashing was beginning to subside. Never in all the millions of years he "interrogated" prisoners had one succeeded in casting him out of their mind. The power within her mind was immense. Somehow, someway this girl was connected to the AllSpark or the remnants thereof. The glyphs, the wall, the mysterious powers…it was a logical hypothesis. He gave Rumble a nod, opened the door and left the room. With no amount of tenderness, the purple mini-bot scooped the human off the table and headed back to the holding cells. He was just happy she had quit screaming.
A beautiful azure sky caressed the wingtips of two jets as they sliced through the wind. Thundercracker was happy to just get out of the base and embrace the temporary distraction that the open air offered. When Starscream had announced that Soundwave would arrive in two Earth days, Thundercracker knew it spelled trouble for him and Dezba both. It would only be a matter of time before the telepath would discover their mental connection. So to be on the safe side, Thundercracker had blocked any and all contact with the human. He had to sort this problem out for both their sakes. Preparing for the new arrivals had helped to keep his processor off her mental inquiries, but a small pang of guilt hit him in the spark every time.
The blue Seeker had come to respect the human over the time of her stay. Her spirit, her attitude--it reminded him so much of…
"Hey, TC! Isn't this great!?"
Skywarp's inquiry jerked Thundercracker from his reverie. "Uh, yeah it sure is, Warp," he replied distractedly. Leave it to Skywarp. The black and purple jet could always be counted on to be a distraction.
"TC, what's bothering you? Ever since you brought that human back, you've been even more moody than normal. What's the deal?" The black Eagle gently bumped Thundercracker's wingtip with his own, emphasizing the question.
Thundercracker hesitated. Should he tell Skywarp? He should have known that his wingmate would get suspicious sooner or later. You didn't spend millions of years watching your wingmate's tailfins just to be acquaintances. He and Skywarp had fought many a battle together and could predict each other's movements down to the astrosecond. But on the other hand, Skywarp wasn't necessarily known for his generosity towards humans. He released a slow, drawn-out sigh and rumbled his thrusters.
"It's complicated, Warp," he finally replied.
"Come on, TC. What's up your thrusters?" Skywarp paused letting the question hang in the wind. "You know, no one else has taken notice, but I have. There's something going on with you and that human and you know that if I see it, it'll only be a matter of time before the Screaming One sees it too. Don't you think I have a right to know, at least before he does?"
It was moments like these that Thundercracker really appreciated his wingmate. Sure, Skywarp could be the biggest pain in the afterburners Primus ever created, but that just gave a mech more incentive to not be at the butt-end of the black Seeker's pranks. It had always been Skywarp who had kept him grounded in the Decepticon cause and it had always been Skywarp who had listened to his doubts and concerns. Now whether the black jet would be able to grasp the concept of his and Dezba's relationship would remain to be seen. So he gave in.
"All right, Warp. I'll tell you," Thundercracker conceded. "Me and the human have…" The blue F-15 stopped speaking abruptly. Without warning it felt as if every circuit link and wire in his processing core was on fire. He cried out in agony as the pain ripped from memory bank to memory bank. What…in the…Pit? He struggled to regain his flight path but the pain was overwhelming. The cobalt-colored jet then went into a nosedive, barreling wing-over-wing towards the ground.
"TC!" With his afterburners screaming, Skywarp dove after his wingmate, a black blur against a pristine blue sky.
Thundercracker was vaguely aware of the ground looming closer, but the torture running rampant in his processor made calculating and thinking difficult. Struggling against his mind and gravity, the blue jet somehow managed to pull his nose out of the dive. At the last moment he transformed and slammed into the earth, belly down. He slid through the dirt, wings clipping trees like a giant electric razor, rocks and other debris raining down in the Seeker's wake. When Thundercracker finally came to a stop, a ditch 250 feet long and 8 feet deep led to his motionless form.
Skywarp transformed and landed beside his wingmate, instantly running scans to see what was damaged. A low moan escaped from the fallen Seeker. Well, at least he's still alive, Skywarp thought. Besides a few major dents and a couple of split wires TC seemed to be only stunned from the impact. Garbled words drifted through the smoke and dust to Skywarp's audios. He quickly knelt down beside TC's head, which was half buried in the earth.
"What was that TC? Come on. Say it again," he pleaded. For the first time in orns, Skywarp was worried. Thundercracker had never lost control mid-flight. It was unheard of. He turned up the gain on his audios hoping that Thundercracker would repeat himself; when the blue jet did speak Skywarp had to repeat the phrase twice just to make sure he heard correctly.
"Dezba…Must get…to Deeezzzba."
