Duty and Deceit
Chapter 33
Psycho
She casually pressed the button to call the lift. Letting out a deep sigh, the little femme could think only of her berth. It had been a long day. Her promotion to Major had taken longer than she'd expected, and the worthiness test had been far more taxing than she'd expected.
After what felt like eons, the light flashed violet and the Cybertanium doors slid apart. Her optics widened slightly at the scene that greeted her.
His thin silver pedes were spread apart, long talon-like servos resting on his hips.
"Well," Starscream spat venomously, his back facing her, "I won't tolerate your 'lessons' any longer! I will have your respect, Lord Megatron." Humming mischievously, the silver Seeker's voice seemed to be grinning, "Or else..."
"I will have your helm!" Raising his fists over his own helm, the mech started laughing in a way he no doubt thought sounded evil.
She cleared her vents loud enough to make her presence known, a bemused expression settled on her masked faceplates. Her smirk grew noticeably at his reaction.
"Mhuahaha-hack-ack-ack-kk-" He spluttered, turning around slowly, "Ugh... Ahem. Ah..."
Stepping into the lift, the newly appointed Major stood stiffly to attention, choosing to act oblivious to what she'd just witnessed. Soundwave would need to be informed of this.
"Seventh floor, please. Sir." The femme said calmly.
Several floors above the desired destination, the two Decepticons stood in an awkward silence. The Air Commander did not allow such peace to last.
"How much of that did you witness, little femme?" He demanded, wringing his hands nervously.
"Not enough for harm." Her finials twitched as an idea came to her mind. They still had thirty four floors to go. "Do you know who I am, Scream?"
Starscream jumped back slightly, a mournful look came into his optics before his expression grew indignant. "You will address me with due respect, you insignificant drone! Do you expect me to personally know every worm in this sector?!"
She rolled her gold optics, hands braced on her hips. "Any mech who cannot be bothered to honor his terminated siblings is due no honor himself. Sir."
He stared at her like a dying electrofish for a while, his mouth opening and closing mindlessly. There was coolant in his optics, though not a drop escaped. His engine whined almost imperceptibly.
His expression was so pained. A flash of a guilt shot through her spark, the dark femme knowing exactly how he felt. Surprisingly the Seeker replied quietly, "My brothers perished in Protihex... I told no one..."
The mech reached forward and lifted her dainty chin with one clawed servo. His expression was indecipherable. "You... Who are you?"
She tried to jerk away from his grip, but failed. Her engine growled lowly. "Can you not figure it out? I am Terabyte." His faceplates showed no signs of recognition. "Warp was a wonderful uncle for the rotation that I knew him. And TC... he was such a kind, gentle, rule bound mech. I'm so glad Stormsong sent me to check in on you guys."
"How do you know what they were like!? You're nothing more than a sparkling in over-sized armor!" Starscream roared into her face, his right cheek plate twitching in his fury. "How dare you pretend to know them?!"
Ever calm in the face of his wrath, the femme said quietly, "Because I did know them." She sighed sadly, "Do you remember the little blue and gold femmeling that visited your room the night before the city fell?"
"Yes... Spoiled, naive little brat, if you ask me." He frowned. The Seeker snarled impatiently, "What does she have to do with anything?"
Her patience at its end, she gave him a flat stare, "I don't know sir. She's right in front of you. Why don't you ask her yourself?"
Several breems passed as Starscream stared at her in disbelief, stepping back a few steps to gape at her. Finally the lift beeped loudly for the third time, the doors having opened a while ago.
Skyquake was waiting for her, glaring at Starscream. She inclined her helm respectfully, her tone cold. "This is where I get off. Good cycle, sir."
By the expression on her large friend's face, she'd have a lot of explaining to do. If she didn't... Starscream would probably end up with an unexpected doctor's visit. Skyquake could get... overzealous in protecting her.
He growled, his numb pede moving stiffly like a dead lump of steel. Which, joy, it actually was. The strange foot that went both directions made each step incredibly awkward. He didn't get how the doc thought that feature would help with balance. So far it only slowed him down, tripping him when it was forgotten. It was like walking on a claw.
There was a slight limp in his walk, which was annoying him to no end. It felt as though everyone was constantly watching him. Even though it was midnight and everyone was asleep. It felt like the very walls were watching. Waiting for him to fall.
But he wouldn't let them see him fall. He had to be strong. And while they were waiting for him to give up, the Cons were mucking around in Terabyte's helm, making her act on their whims and possibly deleting any thoughts or memories that could sway her brainwashed loyalty.
Cliffjumper rounded a corner with more determination in his step. Autobots don't leave their own. They don't give up on each other. And they certainly don't abandon family.
Looking up with hardened optics, the red warrior saw a flash of green wing and the next thing he knew his dead pede had slipped out of under him, gouging the concrete and landing him hard on his aft.
"We really need to get rid of these corners..." Cliffjumper muttered, his nerves screaming in protest in his dead pede. He wasn't sure how he could feel pain when he couldn't feel anything else in the limb. Finally he got the presence of mind to grin up at whoever it was that he'd bumped.
"Ah, Jetbrain!" Cliffjumper said, still grinning. His lips had gone tight in the forced appearance of cheer. He hadn't slept for far too long because of this mech. "And where would a good Autobot like yourself be going in such a hurry this time of night?"
"It matters not to the likes of you." Skyquake replied, his lips curling into a snarl and his engine growling. He began to walk around the red mech when Cliffjumper called out.
"Hey, big guy! Won't you help a fallen comrade-in-arms?" The red mech's cerulean optics shone bright as he got an idea. "I dare say TB'd be disappointed to see how you treat her favorite Autobot..."
Skyquake unsuccessfully tried to bite back a roar as he crouched down to Cliffjumper's level. "You Autobots know nothing of Terabyte! For all that I care, you can stay there and rust. You don't even care that Megatron is sculpting her into his own weapon, to kill against her will."
Cliffjumper frowned involuntarily, "I can't tell where your loyalties lie, Skyquake."
"My loyalties," The jet spat, his ruby optics boring into him, "Have not changed. And no faction will ever hold my loyalty again."
After waiting a few minutes for Cliffjumper to process this and realize its implications, Skyquake continued, "I am going to get her back."
He stared at the green jet as he rose with determination. Attempting to do the same, Cliffjumper lost his balance and fell backwards on one pede, just barely managing to stay standing.
His momentary grimace was replaced with a morbid chuckle. "Fair enough. Shall we then?"
The ex-Con regarded him skeptically for a brief while before a grin of his own split his faceplates. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Little Mech."
Cliffjumper made an indignant sound, following behind the jet. "I'm not that little!" When no response came from Skyquake, the red mech grumbled good-naturedly, "Jetbrain."
"I have been a fool. Made mistakes. Monumental ones." Starscream said quietly, gazing at the wall, his back to Soundwave. Soundwave watched him carefully, no doubt recording it all, his back to the door.
Terabyte smirked, repressing a laugh. Talk about understatement of the vorn. The Seeker continued, "I now realize that I was never destined to be a leader." His tone went bitter, "Or even an equal partner. And... I am at peace with that."
Sure sounded like it, the femme thought, waiting patiently to be noticed. She was perfectly content to listen to the commander's confession.
"I have gained a true… understanding of my place in this universe." About time too. Only took Lord Megatron nearly killing him on an ornly basis for so many eons. "Of who I am... who I was always meant to be: Starscream... Second in command of the Decepticon army. Loyal, humble servant to Lord Megatron."
Starscream turned around, his expression blank. "Thank you for listeni- Lieutenant Terabyte! How long were you standing there?! Return to your duties at once!"
She sneered at him behind her mask, keeping her tone respectfully neutral and nodding to her commander. "Commander Soundwave, good joor. Commander Starscream... I believe my recent promotion is still valid; as such, you must address me properly, sir. To show a good example to the troops."
Soundwave meanwhile was very pointedly staring at Starscream through his visor. He played back a recording of Megatron, "You are not in command here, Starscream... Do not give my troops orders."
The silver mech chuckled awkwardly, "Ah, yes... of course Soundwave. I will take my leave now. Lieutenant Commander, Commander."
Once he had left, Terabyte looked at Soundwave. "Sir... A memory has come to mind, regarding a mech named Blitzwing. I have located him, having placed one of your tracers on him during a battle towards the end of my previous mission."
Soundwave nodded his helm ever-so-slightly, gesturing for her to continue. "He is in the Russian capital, most likely still having a tea party with the ruins of the museum. But the military strength he holds would be invaluable to the cause."
The commander continued to stare blankly. His lack of response was, as per usual, minorly disturbing. She concluded finally, "As your second, I would suggest that we locate him and integrate him into our forces."
He nodded again and replayed the exact footage she had been viewing previously, her finial jutting into the image in the bottom corner. The voice in the shrouded corner of her mind mentioned something about stalkers, but Terabyte ignored it. Soundwave saw all. He was the optics of the army.
She realized that he was looking at her expectantly. The femme frowned, she must have missed something. Usually she didn't miss Soundwave's inferences. "Yes sir?"
A message appeared on her HUD announcing a data transfer. Accepting the packet, she opened it and quickly read through the files. Nodding her helm firmly, Terabyte bowed respectfully and excused herself to begin.
Heading straight for the communications wing, the spy was already planning her mission and sorting out what strategy she would use to approach this. She ought to bring a few Vehicons at least, just in case the triple-changer caused trouble. Or Autobots trying to 'rescue' her again.
She would try talking to him first... then move to less sociable methods if necessary. Maybe she ought to bring someone of higher rank... or a Vehicon medic team...
"Breakdown..." He said, slight annoyance tinging his cultured, high-class tone, "You've been buffing the same panel on my back for nearly three breems now. I asked you to help, not buff a hole through me."
"Sorry KO... Guess I've got something on my processor." Breakdown replied distractedly, putting down the buffer.
Knockout rolled his optics impatiently, "As in, 'do it properly' not 'stop trying completely'. What's got you so preoccupied? Did some oaf tell you about the flaw in the back of your helm plates?"
"I have a flaw in the back of my helm plates?" Breakdown asked, shaking his helm slightly as he stood up. "So? No I was just thinking."
The red medic smirked, standing up as well, admiring his freshly buffed and polished armor. He really was the most handsome mech on this rust-bucket. He deserved better than this boring life on this dreary speck in the galaxy.
"That's a rather dangerous occupation for you, big guy. I'd stick to breaking things if I were you..." Knockout frowned slightly, arching his back gracefully as he drawled, "On second thought, thank Primus I'm not you, Break... It must be dreadfully embarrassing to go around looking like that."
"Hey! I'm not that-" Breakdown cut off his exclamation, looking down at his own frame indignantly. Shaking his helm again, he smiled a sad, self-deprecating little smile. "You're right though. She wouldn't be interested."
Now Knockout raised an optic ridge, intrigued. "Oh really? Fancy a femme, do you? Now that is rather odd coming from you... What unlucky femme could have caught your optic?"
Unforturnately, before Breakdown could answer his question, the door whooshed open. Knockout very quickly forgot about their conversation as he beheld the person entering with purposed stride.
"Ah... Speaking of beauty incarnate..." Knockout said quietly, making sure to speak just loud enough for her to hear him. Not that they really had been speaking of that… But that was beside the point. He bowed to her slightly, rather pointedly still keeping a close optic on her cannon. "Hello Lieutenant Commander. Enjoying your promotion, mi'lady?"
Terabyte glared up at him from where she stood, almost to his shoulders. Knockout smiled at her while she glared at him through her now-red optics. Same height as Cliffjumper and Bumblebee.
"Quite so, Medic." She said, her voice and optics betraying a hidden smile, "In fact, thank you for the reminder. Do close your mouth, please."
"Oh I understand." Knockout drawled, "I realize that my handsome-ness can be intimidating, but there's really no need to be shy, sweetspark."
Her voice went sickeningly sweet, so sweet it seemed to burn his audials, "That was an order, by the way. I believe the Vehicons would find it very amusing if you were incarcerated for insubordination. Don't you think so, Breakdown?"
The blue jeep laughed roughly, "Oh yes. I'm sure most of the higher ups would agree too."
Knockout's optics widened slightly as he considered the dingy, unkempt cells of the brig. Rust and mildew on the walls, just waiting to corrode any unfortunate mech to be trapped in their clutches. He shuddered as he envisioned his paint job after brig-time.
The vain medic, for even he knew that he was vain, obediently sealed his lip-plates. When Terabyte spoke next, he could practically taste her smugness, "Now, to business. I am leading a mission to add Blitzwing to Decepticon ranks. You are coming with me and three of the Vehicons."
Forgetting to follow her orders, Knockout spluttered, "The mech's a nutter; you want me to join you on a suicide mission! I'm not going to get myself scrapped to bring home a psychopath." He crossed his arms over his chest firmly, waving one hand at her like he was waving aside an insect. "You can go get scrapped all on your own, thank you very much."
Again she glared at him, her optics seeming to melt holes through his paint job. "That was not a request either, Knockout. Come. Now."
Meanwhile
Skyquake ran a scan over himself for the zillionth time, still finding nothing. Cliffjumper sat nearby, tapping his pede impatiently.
"So..." The red warrior said, drawing the word out for a painfully long stretch, "Now what?"
"Quiet." Skyquake growled out, not really listening to the mech.
He knew Terabyte had planted a tracker on him somewhere during the battle with Blitzwing a while back... It was just a matter of finding the thing. Her trackers were tiny and had camouflaging capabilities, so it would only be visible as a lump in his armor. Which was somewhat difficult since he had quite a lot of armor.
It wasn't showing up on his scans, so she must have improved on it since last time she tagged him with one of the annoying things. Cliffjumper sitting over there watching him while he searched for the tracker certainly wasn't helping either, and his patience was long since run out.
"Well?" Cliffjumper questioned more insistently, "You just going to stand there looking at your own chassis all orn?"
"I said, quiet!" Skyquake roared in exasperation.
"And I say that's not a good enough explanation!" The grounder roared back, leaping to his pedes, wobbling just a bit on the disfigured silver pede. "How is this helping get her back?"
Skyquake's engine made a strangled noise as he tried to convince himself not to kill the annoying little Autobot. Turning his back to the mech hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped. Finally he managed to grind out the words, "If I find her tracker, I find her."
"You mean that nifty little thing right there?" Cliffjumper asked, that stupid smile back in his voice.
As Cliffjumper spoke, he poked Skyquake's wing-connectors, surprising the significantly larger jet. Skyquake yelped in shock at the tickly touch to the extremely sensitive wing connectors, spinning around quickly to glare at the mech who dared to touch them. No one touched his wing-cons.
Skyquake's audio receptors failed to register the crash of some heavy object colliding with his wing, shortly followed by a moan, shortly followed by a thud. All the jet knew was that someone had touched his wing-cons and that someone was now going to receive a very loud and likely physical rebuking so that they never did it again. However, when Skyquake turned around, there was no one behind him.
Finally the enraged jet calmed down enough to hear a grunt from his pedes and he slowly looked down. And what greeted his optics was a groaning pile of red mech, who probably had a rather severe helm-ache now, along with one side of his helm being considerably flatter now. About the same time that Skyquake made this observation, he also realized that he very probably currently had a Cliffjumper-shaped dent in his right wing.
The army green jet shrugged his wings and shoulders slightly, smirking at the rising Autobot, his brusque voice sounding incredibly unapologetic. "Whoops. I don't like mechs touching my wing-connectors."
"Whoops?!" Cliffjumper roared, wincing as his flattened face-plates shifted. Since the side of his helm had been dented in, his face was rather squished up.
Skyquake cocked his helm, studying the mech's face, the smirk spreading into a wide grin. "Your face looks much better that way I think. Not unlike a swollen robofish... You know, rather than an electrosaur's tail..."
Cliffjumper blinked multiple times, no doubt picturing himself by that description. He still didn't looked very amused. In fact, he looked absolutely livid. "I'm gonna kill you some day."
"In your dreams, Little Mech." Skyquake said calmly, quite enjoying pushing the other mech's buttons. Any mech was fun to mess with after nearly two orns without recharge.
"I'm not little!" Cliffjumper responded instantly, scowling.
"Your comebacks would hold more weight were they not recycled." Skyquake mused aloud, just to annoy the red mech. Just because he could. Terabyte would have loved to listen to this...
A jolt of pain racked his spark, instantly shattering the jet's playful mood. Cliffjumper seemed to notice the sudden change in Skyquake's demeanor, for he too sobered. In unison they said, "This isn't getting her back."
"Give me the tracker." Skyquake ordered gruffly, commander-mode back in full force.
He tried to ignore how the mech's clumsy servos brushed against the wing connectors. Somehow he managed to ignore how much each slip tickled. Even though Cliffjumper only took something like three astroseconds to remove the tracker, it felt like vorns. At long last the tracker was in his hand, no more than a tiny mechanical button.
"So how's that gonna help?" Cliffjumper asked skeptically. "It's like, a fridge magnet."
Skyquake's faceplates squinched up in confusion. "What's a 'fridge'?" Shaking his helm, the jet opened a panel on his wrist, revealing several different shapes of dataports. He clicked it into the right slot and explained, "Nevermind... I plug the thingy in here and it does stuff."
The red mech's already squashed face seemed to get a little squashier as he frowned. If Skyquake thought too hard about how the Autobot looked, than he'd be unable to stop laughing. So he didn't think about it. Cliffjumper muttered, "Oh yeah. You plug the 'thingy' in there and it does 'stuff'. Great… Tell me again why I thought trusting you'd be a good idea?"
"Cause." Skyquake replied, his focus side-tracked and the lack of recharge making his helm kind of fuzzy. Their unspoken little face-off was going to get them was going to get them both killed. "I am awesome."
His ruby optics dimmed as he tried to pay attention to the lifeless little line of code that was the tracking device. Thankfully, not a whole lot of hacking and programming was involved. All he had to do was move a section of the code further up the line and switch out a few signs and it was done.
Disconnecting the tracker, Skyquake looked up at Cliffjumper. "Done. This should work."
"Should." Cliffjumper repeated. Obviously the red mech was also having difficulties with the lack of recharge. "Gotcha. Should be a piece of En-cake then!" Saluting him lazily, the mech said, "Righty then, where to Mr. Jetbrain, sir?"
Skyquake merely growled, turning to the terminal and tapping in the coordinates given by the tracker. "Russia."
He was still sitting there. In the rubble of the museum. Having a tea party with a decapitated statue of Ivan the Terrible. His face was a crazed jack-o-lantern. Squishies ran around him in a panic, while others videoed the scene as if being minutes away from their messy, squishy deaths was the greatest thing in the world.
Terabyte snorted, her sensitive audials picking up on every sound around her. Except Knockout of course. She tuned him out ages ago. The spy rolled her fiery red optics, her patience with the medic having run out several groons ago. Her almost completely black armor shone ebony in the sun that seemed farther away than normal.
"No need for covert operations." Terabyte stated, watching the chaos unfurling in the city below them. "Move in, surround the triple-changer, but do nothing that might be perceived as threatening. We are Decepticons, not sparkless warmongers."
One of the Vehicons attempted to fake a cough to hide his derisive laughter. Needless to say, his attempt was quite unsuccessful. She heard the clang of metal on metal as his companion elbowed him harshly. She sighed. "Headcase. Do you have something you wish to tell me?"
Beside her, Knockout was smirking. His engine kept hitching like he was stifling laughter. Headcase saluted to her dorsal plates, "Sir, no, sir!"
"Very well." She said stiffly, trying to keep her annoyance from tinging her tone. "Move out."
Once the Vehicons had left, Terabyte turned to Cliffj- Knockout. For about the millionth time in the past breem, the dark femme reproached the mysterious voice in her helm. Why did she keep thinking she liked that grinning... Autobot? The annoying voice wouldn't even let her think of any decent insults. Her engine growled deeply, making the red mech side-step away from her.
"I said, be quiet!" She bit out angrily, swiping at the air by her helm as if it would make that voice go away.
Cli- Knockout was now looking at her like she had just gone off her rocker. Especially since she roared like a feral creature as again her processor tried to call the medic Cliffjumper.
She hoped the horned warrior was okay... Terabyte clutched her helm, her light gray, clawed servos slowly screeching as she drew them over her helm. No she didn't! She wished she'd stayed to ensure his death! All Autobots deserved to die for their wrongs. She would kill them all to bring the Energon of thousands to justice!
Terabyte scratched a little more viciously, feeling the satisfaction of paint and metal shavings falling from her helm as her claws scrabbled at its surface. She wished she could just rip out the contradictory shadow in her processor. Maybe then it would finally stop bothering her with doubts.
"Leave me alone..." She mumbled angrily. "Go away."
But he loved her like a sister, the shrouded portion of her mind argued. They never did anything to harm her. What reason did she have to not believe them?
"What reason do I have to believe them?" She hissed into the empty air, no longer aware of the disgusted medic beside her awaiting her orders. "They destroyed cities, killed families, killed Skyquake! Isn't that reason enough to kill them all? They are why Skyquake is dead!"
"Well... That was rather... sudden. Talk about a nutcase." Knockout commented dryly, his voice and words only vaguely registering to her. He mused, "Megatron will be just thrilled to hear that his toy has finally broken down. And I thought Blitzbrain over there was the crazy one."
She rose unsteadily to her pedes, wondering if she'd lost it. Her processors certainly were not feeling one hundred percent together. Terabyte casually cracked her neck struts back into alignment, snatching a polishing cloth from subspace and rubbing it quickly over her helm and hands. She had a mission to fulfill, and it paid to look presentable.
Venting deeply to calm her conflicted mind, the lieutenant commander glared at the medic, making him wilt ever-so-slightly. "Blitzwing is a clinical pyschopath, this could go down either way. Be prepared. Let's go."
"As ship's medic, I'd have to say the same for certain femme commanders..." Knockout muttered, nevertheless following her down to the triple-changer.
She leapt over a fallen stone pillar agilely, her mini-cannon ready, but not charged. Her Energon dagger was still sheathed. Blitzwing glanced up at the dark femme casually as she landed a few meters away from him.
"Ah, helloo pretty leettle traitor!" The crazy-faced mech greeted, his cheerful tone not matching up with his words. "I likes ze neew paint job. Eet's eveel looking."
She inclined her helm slightly, accepting his compliments. Being ungrateful would only serve to offend the unstable mech. Glancing down at the purple insignia engraved on her belt-plate, the femme smiled behind her midnight blue mask. "That was the point."
His face swapped over to the icy blue, monocled face. His lips were pursed thoughtfully, "I take eet you are a Deecepteecon onshe more? Vhat do you vant, beetrayer of ze factions?"
"I never changed sides, Blitzwing." She said coldly, quite bored of telling people this. "My loyalties have never wavered. I came to offer you a proposition of sorts."
Faces switching back to the jack-o-lantern, the jet giggled, "Ooh! Proposeetions! How exciteeng!" The red, gap-denta'd face glared at her suspiciously, pulling out his flame gun. "Vhat kind of proposeetion? I vill teear out your shpark and eat eet if you are lyeeng!"
"Um..." Terabyte pictured the faceless mech attempting to eat anything. It was a rather messy image. "I'll take your word on that one, Blitz. Anyhow. We would like for you to come back to the Nemesis with us."
Blue monocle'd face frowned as he contemplated her offer, twirling his ice-ray. "Ze offer eez vaary eentereshting, Lieeutenant. Howayver, I vill have to decline."
Switching back to his red face, he pressed his dual-setting gun - once again spewing flames out the end - into her chest, scorching the black paint. "Eexcept I hate any mech zat zinks leaving heez loyal mechs on steenking mudballs for vorns vas a good idea!"
Terabyte took several steps backwards, trying to get away from the enraged mech's weapon. The femme tried playing ignorant, "Of whom would you speaking?"
As if that was going to work. He was definitely pychotic, but not dumb. Blitzwing's face glitched out for a moment as his faces fought for dominance before finally the scribbled face sneered at her, blinking his red optics sweetly, his voice falsely calm, "Oh, none but ze great Lord Protector, Maygatron. Our leeader eez vaary kind, eez he not?"
The angry face appeared again, taking several more menacing steps towards her. Terabyte stifled a growl as she caught a glimpse of Knockout and the Vehicons simply watching, entertained by her plight. "Een fact, he's so kind, I could just rip off heez rusty face! Though right now anyvon's face vill do..."
Continuing her slowly retreating steps, the spy smiled under her mask. He'd been enraged when the Autobots destroyed his statue. After all, three vorns of work. Not to mention that the nut-case probably enjoyed killing... She might just have a bargaining chip.
Changing tactics quickly, Terabyte stopped retreating and threw on a considering expression and posture. "That Energon statue of yourself... It was quite a work of art. Beautiful craftsmechship."
The cold, logical face regarded her carefully, his tone and expression smug. "Eet truly vas. Zree vorns I vorked on eet. Every stroke vas peerfectly and mazemateecally preecise."
"I doubt any other sculptor could have reached your level of natural expertise, Blitzwing." The dark femme said, practically oozing flattery. It made her want to purge, but it was certainly working. Her fiery red bio-lights were flaring bright in her disgust. "But the Autobots didn't appreciate your awe-inspiring work, did they? Destroyed it without a second thought. Three vorns of work, crushed."
"Yees!" The gap-denta'd face hissed. That particular face reminded her a lot of one of the old Kaonian drill sergeants. He clenched his fists so hard the tan plating groaned. "Zey have no reeshpect for peerfection! Zey deeserve to be mercy-lessly shlaughtered! I vant zeir life-En on my hands!"
Terabyte nodded encouragingly, smirking smugly behind her mask. All she'd needed was to work him up, and she'd convince him to do anything. Now she just needed to hope her proposition came out tactfully. "The foolish Autobots that dared to destroy your three-vorn masterpiece ought to pay for their crime. We and Lord Megatron also wish to bring them to justice. Together, we can all reach our common goal."
The blue face, which for convenience's sake she was going to dub *Icy, gave her a flat stare that seemed to pierce right through her. "Your proposheetion eez logeecally shound..."
His face swapped to the jack-o-lantern - she dubbed this one *Random - and he struck a heroic pose, grinning widely with his holo-face staticky. "But I can keell zem all on my own vith my shtrikeeng features!"
"And no bot can shurvive my wrath! I vill keell zem all een ze beeggest eckshplosion ze galackshy has ayver sheen!" The red face of war - she'd just call him *Hothead - yelled, unsheathing every weapon he had, along with several from subspace, obscuring the mech from view behind a massive cluster of missiles, rocket launchers, grenades, cannons, swords, blasters, lasers, saws, warhammers, and pretty much every kind of weapon Terabyte had ever seen along with several that she couldn't classify.
(*These names are from the tfwiki, not my imagination)
Instinctually, every mech around the triple-changer jumped backwards. Terabyte had to concentrate to keep her armor from shrinking closer to her protoform. She chuckled lightly as she continued to lay on the flattery. Flattery was not her strong suit, though oftentimes well-placed sarcasm worked just as well. "Doubtless, your might is inspiring to all that see it... But even such a powerful mech as yourself requires Energon and maintenance. In return for your loyalty, the Decepticons will keep you fuelled and in top repair. Why should one so mighty be brought so low as to scavenge among the fleshlings like a cyberhound?"
Icy glared at her for a moment before retracting the fatal cloud of weaponry reluctantly. "You are a vaary vise, logeecal feemme. Your argument eez valeed and I have been pershuaded."
Hothead appeared, somewhat pouty looking, "I vill follow you to ze Nemesis. And not keell you."
The words had hardly left his mouth when his faces swirled abruptly to Random, his optics wide and sparkling in anticipation. He giggled femme-ishly, "I can keell zem eenstead zough!"
Frowning in minor confusion, Terabyte and the Decepticon medic turned to see who the tan and purple tank/jet was talking about. Her optics grew wide and she felt her processors speed up and slow down repeatedly, her vents hitching, and her engine making choked noises.
Her processors powered down for a fraction of an astrosecond, rebooting and crashing repeatedly. Her optics rebooted rapidly, shock and disbelief flooding her systems as her logic center tried to comprehend the visual data she was receiving.
Her systems couldn't cope. She was going to glitch out. Her systems couldn't cope.
"Sk-k-k... Sky... Q-quake?"