Duty and Deceit
Chapter 43
Shadows Around Us
Okay, folks, new chappie! As the usual disclaimer, I don't own Transformers, or the Transformers: Prime television series. This chapter is a little ball of fluffy death, so... Enjoy!
Also, thank you all for your input, I have decided on a ship name for TB and Sky! Enter, *dramatic drumroll*... TeraQuake! Yay!
"No, no, no... Terabyte, you need to aim higher! For my helm, or my stomach at least." Skyquake rumbled exasperatedly, grabbing her golden ankle from where he'd ordered her to hold it as he reviewed her on the latest form he'd shown her.
The mech pulled her pede up higher, making her wince and hop closer to relieve her screaming cables, only for him to chuckle and nudge her foot back to its original postion with one foot.
Grinning at her glare, Skyquake shrugged a wing lightly, "You do not handle close-quarters combat as well as you could. You're far more than adept in your long-range attacks, and yet in hand-to-hand combat you do not take full advantage of your frame: your pedes can do far more in battle than leap and carry you. An elegant, flying kick to my shins will do very little to slow my attack. You must learn to aim higher."
"I'm greatly inspired by the philosophical speech." She replied sarcastically, her mask flipped up, serving both to display her annoyance and also to hide her discomfort. "But you don't seem to have realized that your stomach is optic-level for me... In case you hadn't noticed, I'm slightly shorter than your average battle-class jet. You aren't giving me a fair chance."
His jaw clenched and he narrowed his clear ruby optics at her, letting her pede collapse down to the floor. When he pulled his wings back to a rigid angle, the little femme wondered if she'd gone just a little too far.
Skyquake growled at her, the rumble of his engine reverberating through the whole training arena, "War isn't fair, Terabyte. Little people get pitched into unfair battles against enemies with all the advantages in their favor. If you get stuck in a fight with the Prime, or Ultra Magnus, or anyone my size, you won't be able to call a time-out and request a different sparring partner; you either survive or you don't!"
She opened her mouth to cut in, but in spite of her mask, the jet knew and raised a servo to silence her, continuing, towering over her in a way that displayed his true, terrifyingly intimidating size for all that it was. He always made such an effort to appear smaller when he was with her, but he'd dropped the facade, sending a shiver down her struts. Her armor pressed tight against her protoform, and she cowered slightly in his shadow, even though she knew he would never hurt her. It was so easy to forget just how huge huge could be.
"Yes, I know your size puts you at a disadvantage; I've never met a Cybertronian as small as you. By the pits of Kaon, femme, I'm probably more aware of your size than you are!" He roared, his optics filled with an anger that showed more worry than anything else.
He also seemed to realize that he was scaring her and he turned his back to her with his helm down, taking a moment to vent deeply, his tone softening, "Tera, it is because of your size that I push you so hard. Too hard maybe. But I want you- I need you to be stronger and faster and deadlier than anyone should ever have to be."
"Because I..." Here the mech hesitated, facing her once again, his posturing returning to the usual, smaller-looking way he always held himself around her. "At this point, I'm not sure what I would do, what I would become if- if I lost you... And I don't ever want to have to find that out."
She averted her gaze, dropping the mask and biting her lip, feeling guilty now for having complained so rudely. Finally the Prussian blue and black two-wheeler looked up at him with her apology already written in her yellow optics.
Giving him quick little hug and backing away, she said quietly, "I'm sorry... I know you're right, it's just that-"
The spy cut herself off and frowned minutely as she noticed that Skyquake's ruby optics had gone wide and dim, his massive frame swaying in an off-balance manner, his lips parted in silent cry of agony. His face was twisted into an expression of more terror and pain than she'd ever before seen on a face-plate.
"KMECC." He muttered, swaying again, causing her frown to deepen. KMECC: Kaon Medical Emergency Care Center. When he crashed down to the floor, the little femme yelped in panic, clueless as to what could possibly be wrong with him.
Rushing to his side, she scanned his vitals and gasped at the readings that told her that he was 'experiencing severe trauma and in risk of imminent spark failure'.
"Sweet Cybertron, what did I do to you?" She whispered, hacking through to the priority one emergency comm-lines to the space bridge facility in Kolkular. Pulling on a crisp, professional tone, she waited for the response that came in hardly an astro-second.
/This is the Kolkular Priority One Space Bridge comm-line, please state your name, rank, and the nature of the emergency./
/This is First Major Terabyte of Decepticon Communications and Intelligence, I need a space bridge from the enclosed coordinates to the Kaon Emergency Medical Care Center immediately./ She sent coolly, acting as though requesting a space bridge within the same planet was perfectly normal, hoping that the mech would just reroute her to someone who could actually do it.
/Uh... The space bridge is not equipped for transport within the same planet, Major. A mere transport does not constitute use of the priority one comm-line. How did you get this frequency? You are not authorized to use this line, please vacate this frequency./
She took a deep vent, snarling at the mech before responding with crisp, tidy glyphs, her left finial twitching as she spewed a bunch of official sounding lies. /My superior officer gave me the authorization to use this line. This is a priority one emergency, do not question my superior's orders. Transfer me to the mech in charge of space bridge control./
Skyquake's vitals were continuing to drop, making her desperation grow with every astrosecond. She watched his expressions shift and twist as he lay inert.
/This is the Constructicon, Hook, head of Space Bridge control./ Even the mech's glyphs seemed to radiate a sense of self-superiority. /My expertise was requested?/
/I need a space bridge from the enclosed coordinates to the Kaon Medical Emergency Care Center./ She repeated curtly, her patience at an end.
There was a pause before the mech replied again, his glyphs more deliberate now, the written tone suspiciously sly, /It's not possible./
The femme growled again, /I am not some incompetent drone to be so easily deceived, Constructicon. I am familiar enough with space bridge functions to understand that while it is inconvenient and very energy expending, such a jump is possible with a capable engineer./ She paused for a moment, pursing her lips with displeasure as she began laying on flattery, /I am sure that such an experienced and accomplished engineer as yourself would find this task to be relatively simple?/
The mech took a minute to absorb her flattery before responding, /Unfortunately your understanding of the space bridge technology appears to be flawed. Even if it were possible... I don't exactly feel motivated enough by your... compliments. Hook out./
She sneered at the empty air in front of her, checking Skyquake's vitals again. The scan simply stated, 'Acquire medical aid'. Finding that the mech had left the channel open, she let out a loud rumble of her engine, losing her cool to the extent that it showed plainly in her glyphs, /Oh, really? Is the fact that the Lord Protector's protege will die if you don't motivation enough for you? I don't care if you have to re-engineer half the dying planet to do it. You will do as ordered or I will have you court-martialled into the next Rust Age! And don't you dare tell me I don't have the power to do so, because believe me, I have the power to bring Megatron himself to your doorstep with a single word, and there won't be a single rock you could hide from his wrath under between this galaxy and the next. Get me a space bridge, now!/
The line went dead silent, aside from the light buzz indicating that the mech hadn't closed it. The silence drug on for half a klick before Hook responded with a curt, /Sir, yes, sir!/
Within half a breem the little femme was standing outside a plexi-glass surgical ward, watching medics rush around two enormous battle-class jets in a frenzy with myriad of tools and monitors and wires coming out of the jet twins, who lay side by side on two medical berths pushed together.
Dreadwing's chassis had a giant hole in it, right above his spark chamber, while Skyquake was completely undamaged, yet lay in the same comatose state in danger of spark failure. The medics knew what they were doing, fixing the damage while keeping the twins' spark as close together as possible. After all, one spark was stronger than a half.
She simply stood there watching stoically, her fear and troubled thoughts carefully hidden behind her mask. Her optics remained blank, not really seeing the controlled chaos in the surgical ward in front of her.
She knew that this was just a part of how twins worked. That without one, the other would perish or go mad, as evidenced by Shadowlight, who she supposed had been 'put down' by now. Her fangs dug into her lip as she unknowingly worried her lower lip until it leaked life-En. This was just part of how twins worked, she told herself mentally.
The medics would get Dreadwing stabilized and then Skyquake would be fine. The jet twins would likely be inseparable for several orns as their spark recovered from the trauma of half nearly fading, and then things would be fine. This was just how twins worked.
Nearly three joors passed as she stood there, unmoving, before the last of the medics finally filed out, dried life-En and other fluids on the red mech's hands. He stood beside her for a moment, watching the twins with a sigh.
"Well, that was exciting!" Knockout exclaimed finally, setting a crusty hand on her shoulder, which she ignored. "Wouldn't you agree? I think that went quite exceptionally well... In fact, the bolt-helmed jerks might even survive my modifications."
"What did you do to them?" She demanded, her optics widening slightly before narrowing as she whirled on him, growling lowly, "If they die, I will personally ensure-"
"Ensure what? My death? As if I care." The red medic snorted, grinning, "Besides, I only rearranged their internals so that disemboweling them would be more artistic next time."
She slammed her claws into Knockout's shiny, newly polished chest-plates, shoving the mech into the wall with a flash of sparks as she shredded the paint on his dorsal plating, sneering at the vain mech, "Actually, had you allowed me to finish, I was going to say that I would personally ensure that you would be so hideously mutilated that not even you could fix the damage."
His grin melted right off his face and she watched with a smirk as he pictured the amount of damage she'd just pledged to do. His tone was stiff, "You needn't concern yourself, Major. Your mech will be just fine."
She drew away and made her way to the surgical ward doors, turning to give the dark warning, "I expect no less of you."
Skyquake smiled as he watched Terabyte slip through the door to her quarters, her beautiful twinkling laughter still shining on her perfect - in spite of the jagged scar that spanned it - faceplates. For the first time since he'd awoken, her ruby optics reflected the bright smile that graced her lips.
He stood outside her door for quite awhile, staring at its gray surface, contemplating whether or not he ought to comm for an escort, or simply escort himself. Technically, neither he nor Terabyte were supposed to so much as go to the wash-racks without an escort. Yet, the Prime had done nothing to stop them when they ran into him in the hall outside his office. Surely he would have reprimanded them if rebuke was due.
In the end, he didn't have to decide, because as he argued with himself, pede-falls were approaching. The large jet turned around slowly, his armor rustling as he rolled his shoulders and yawned in a bored fashion.
"Bug!" He roared in greeting, slapping the yellow scout on the back in a friendly gesture that not-so-accidentally sent the scout stumbling forward several steps. "What brings you here?"
"My feet, obviously." Bumblebee whirled, shooting an annoyed look his way before cocking one of his large black optic ridges, "You seem cheery."
Skyquake shrugged, swinging his machine gun out of subspace and twirling it around. It wasn't like he'd actually given Optimus all of his weapons when he'd defected. That would have been absurdly dumb. Besides, Prime didn't seem to have an issue with it, since he never brought it up all the time he'd used his trusty machine gun in battle. To be perfectly honest, the Autobots had been ridiculously lenient with him as a defector.
Too lenient.
The jet just flicked a wing, not caring too much. If the mechs wanted to risk him being armed and given pretty much free-reign, that was their problem. It wasn't as if him being unarmed actually made him any less of a threat anyway. He was a Pit-fighter after all. He didn't need weapons to tear a mech apart.
That was what had annoyed him so much about Dreadwing: his code of honor as he called it kept him from fighting like a savage beast when necessary. He fought all civilized and then wondered why Skyquake always had to go berserk and rip mechs' sparks out through their optics. The blue and gold jet just let himself get pummeled when his enemies didn't fight with his level of dignity, leaving Skyquake to rescue him.
Of course, Skyquake had a decently high standard when it came to honor, but when push came to shove, the Pits weren't an honorable place and they had to survive one way or another. Dying was dying whether it was done honorably or not.
He scowled at the thoughts that had come into his mind against his will and without his understanding. Who was this Dreadwing? Why was he everywhere in his past? Apparently he hadn't remembered everything yet, in spite of the medic's assurances that he should have regained all of his memories by now.
It was as if half of him was missing.
"Uh... yeah... okay, sure. Why don't I take you to your quarters and you get a nice long recharge and defrag..." Bumblebee muttered, giving him a weird look before walking off in the direction of his shared quarters. He must have spoken some of that out loud.
The jet scowled harder and stomped off after the scout, his faceplates hardened with concentration as he tried to force the memories into his mind. When they finally arrived at the right door, Skyquake just went inside and slammed a fist into the close button, sliding the door shut in the yellow youngling's face.
"Well, goodnight to you too!" The scout's angry blipping coming through the door in a muffled string.
Skyquake punched the door, leaving an imprint of his spiked fist in its surface, not entirely sure what he'd hoped to accomplish by the action. Other than mess up Cliffjumper's door and make his knuckles sting slightly.
"Aren't we cheerful this orn?" The red mech commented with a grin, making Skyquake turn to glare at him.
Only to find that the mech was hanging upside-down from the roof, his awkwardly diamond-shaped foot pierced through the roof and bridging the gap in such a way that there was no chance of the red warrior freeing himself. Skyquake snickered, walking around the Autobot and lying down on the large berth beneath the trapped mech, shuttering his optics with a smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"It's getting late, Cliffjumper..." He grinned wickedly, "Now's really not the best time to be hanging around."
Cliffjumper laughed, swaying back and forth where he hung before glaring at the lounging jet. "Aww, c'mon, that wasn't even funny! Lend a mech a hand, could ya?"
The ex-Con just took a deep, shuddery vent as though he were falling asleep, shrugging nonchalantly. "Obviously it was funny, since you laughed. As far as a hand goes, the Doc-bot probably has a spare in the cargo bay, though I'm not sure how much that would help you."
"Y'know, I'll just dangle here hardly two feet above your helm staring at you creepily while you recharge, plotting hilarious ways of murdering you." The red mech declared finally, crossing his arms and proceeding to stare down at him intently.
Normally that wouldn't bother him, except that now that it had been mentioned, Skyquake felt like Scraplets were crawling through his armor. He flicked one optic open and glared at the mech above him. About two breems passed.
He had several obsidian throwing daggers in his subspace... He hadn't figured those counted as weapons, per say, so he hadn't given them to the Prime either. Maybe he could use those to get the red warrior to stop staring at him. Although, he looked ridiculous hanging there by his silver, mangled foot. Maybe getting stared at was worth the amusement.
Another breem passed and his engine gave a disgruntled rumble. Cliffjumper wasn't kidding when he said he'd stare at him all night long. Skyquake sighed, wondering how long the Prime would keep him around if he tore his interrogator into about a billion shiny red pieces. He'd keep the horns as a souvenir. Grinning at the thought, the jet made a pouty face as he considered how Terabyte would react to that.
Not that the red mech had been treating her very well. She refused to tell him what the red malfunction of a mech had done, but it was obvious that whatever it was had crushed her. It was plain enough to see when she practically wilted every time she saw Cliffjumper, no matter how happy she was prior to seeing him.
Prime wouldn't appreciate Skyquake showering the base with Autobot confetti though. A shame, really.
"Fine! Just quit leaking fluids on me already, it's disgusting." Skyquake snarled finally, wiping drool off his chassis and standing up on the berth, which groaned under his weight.
He grabbed the mech by the ankle and yanked him out of the roof, reigning dust down on the two of them. Rather than putting the mech down, the green jet just leapt off the berth, swinging Cliffjumper by the ankle, holding his helm about an inch above the floor.
"Put me down!" Cliffjumper protested, swiping at Skyquake's pedes.
The jet swung him out far enough that the Autobot couldn't reach him. Skyquake smirked, "Ah-ah-ah! Play nice now, Little Mech."
Ignoring him, the red mech started swinging back and forth, getting closer to the jet with every swing. Before long, the mech had built up the momentum to almost reach, his victorious smile suggesting that Cliffjumper thought he was going to succeed.
Skyquake cocked his helm and smiled innocently, waving at the mech youngling-ishly. "Bye-bye."
He let go, giggling as his freed prisoner crashed down on his helm, thumping down to the floor with a groan. He took a step forward and looked down at Cliffjumper, still chuckling, "You said put you down."
"Not that way!" Cliffjumper objected, his tone playfully whiny. After a moment, his emerald optics brightened and a mischevious smile lit his face, "I'm bored... Wanna go see if the neighbors wanna play?"
The synth-En'd ex-Con returned the grin with one of his own, catching the mech's drift with an anticipatory growl. "Lobbing, laser-tag, maybe darts too."
"Sounds like a plan!"
He swirled through the air, taking pleasure in manipulating the wide sky as though he owned it. It was a good night to fly. The sky was perfectly clear, the stars bright and sparkling in the blackness, the light of the moon blanketing the world in a silvery twilight. The only thing that would make the flight better would be a change in passengers.
Cliffjumper was significantly heavier than Terabyte, and his balance was just plain embarrassing. Not to mention her company was far more desirable than the current passenger's. All things considered though, the red mech was by no means his least favorite person.
Skyquake caught sight of their soon-to-be playmate and dove straight for the target, flicking a wing at his passenger, whose grip had tightened painfully on the edge of his wings.
"Look out below!" He sang, transforming mid-air and bracing his pedes for impact.
Kicking the confused mech in the back of the helm, Skyquake dropped into a smooth roll on touchdown, grinning as Cliffjumper crashed to the ground a few moments later, the sharpness of his decline resulting in the miserably failed barrel roll. The red mech sprang up cheerily like that hadn't happen, stopping only for a klick to shake himself like a photovoltaic cat.
"Heya, Blitz-brain!" Cliffjumper crowed, kicking the mech in the abdomen as he rose. The kick was neither friendly nor particularly damaging, simply unpleasant.
The triple-changer glared at them and looked around the solitary desert area that they'd ambushed him in. "Vhat do you vant, Ahtzobahts?"
"Ve vantz to eatch your brains." The red mech replied, mocking the mech's strange accent. He laughed cruelly, making even the triple-changer shift his armor in a minorly unnerved manner, "We want to play!"
Skyquake snickered at the mech, pulling out a handful of his obsidian throwing knives, flicking a few to Cliffjumper casually. He pulled himself up to his full height and flared his armor just barely, snickering again as Blitzwing charged his freeze-ray and pulled a couple missiles out of subspace.
"Ooh, ve like games!" The mech replied, his face switching to the crazy one. The red lights of his optics and mouth shone particularly brighter than normal as he swung his freeze-ray around, "Vhat do you zink about playing dodge-ze-meessles? Or, I know! Ve could play freeze-tag! Zat vould be fun..."
They leapt out of the way as the triple-changer started rapidly firing ice-pellets and missiles in all directions, not appearing to be aiming in any specific direction. The green jet grinned and tossed a dagger as he sprung over a missile as it blew, using a light tap of his thrusters to clear the blast.
A howl from the Decepticon phase-sixer declared that his aim was true as ever. Wing injuries were by far among the most painful. Skyquake grunted as his foot froze over, one of Blitzwing's shots hitting its mark, the pellet exploding into a thick casing of ice around his lower pede.
"Ten points if you hit his wings!" He hollered at Cliffjumper, listening to the red warrior's taunting as he threw daggers like they were lobbing balls, missing his mark almost every time.
The red mech rolled between the triple-changer's legs and stabbed the mech in the center of the back, hitting a thick motor-neural cluster, giggling as the massive warmech shrieked and fell to the ground, his motor relays temporarily short-circuited. The jet-tank's arms and pedes flopped and flailed as the mech writhed and convulsed, performing something reminescent of the human's chicken dance.
"Bulls-eye!" Skyquake roared, his booming laughter not quite drowning out Blitzwing's angry gurgling. The wound in itself was more embarrassing than damaging, and the results were hilarious. "Blitz is on the fritz!"
At that, Cliffjumper choked on his laughter, doubling over as he shook with silent mirth, his vocalizer glitching out for nearly a klick. Finally he just spluttered, "Blitz... fritz... Perfect!"
In the midst of their laughter, neither mech noticed the triple-changer had risen and now stood over them with a dagger in each hand, a wicked grin on his red commando face, "You zink zat vas funny?! Let's shee how vell you like it vhen you are writhing in ze dusht!"
Skyquake ducked just in time to dodge the incensed Decepticon's blow, turning just in time to see Cliffjumper's face contort into the embodiment of horror as his frame collapsed and began twitching in a display even more amusing than Blitzwing's had been. All the same, the red mech could be heard giggling uncontrollably as his frame flopped around as though he had a swarm of rustmites under his armor.
The green jet swung at Blitzwing's helm, then planted his servos firmly on the triple-changer's wing-cons and shoved his weight over the ducked-down mech, forcing a deep grunt from the mech's engine, nearly drowned out by Skyquake's laughing, "Leap frog!"
He howled as the tan and purple mech copied his action perfectly, balancing his massive weight all on Skyquake's wing connectors for a moment before seating himself on the green jet's wings, pulling on his helm with a crazed snicker, "Blitzving see, Blitzving do, Blitzving trying somethink new! Giddyup, traitor!"
His engine let out a deep growl and Skyquake collapsed to his hands and knees under the larger mech's weight, trying to think of a way to shake the mech off. Blitzwing was now clubbing his helm with the freeze-ray/flame-gun. The synth-En made his processors fuzzy, making it hard to think straight.
Fortunately, he didn't have to think about it very long before a second mech leapt on his back for an astrosecond, balancing precariously until the three of them tumbled into a pile of armor, wings, and weapons, each mech punching and kicking and yanking on arms, pedes, wings, and tires indiscriminately.
This wild, jumbled catfight lasted several klicks, every time one mech got the upper hand, another would pull him down and the advantages would shift. Soon life-En was soaking into the dust as they rolled and scrabbled for every hit, staining the earth both green and blue as they fought like wild creatures as opposed to mechs, each spewing insults and taunts, all three of them giggling, and growling, and mocking in turn.
All of a sudden, Blitzwing and Skyquake let out a synchronized scream as a pair of daggers sliced through each of their wings, leaving both mechs in shock and leaking. Skyquake grabbed hold of Cliffjumper's neck and shook him repeatedly, pressing his claws harder and harder into the mech's plating, an animalistic growl rumbling from his engine as his emerald optics burned with a wild, instinctual fury.
He was beyond words, just shaking the mech roughly before flinging him aside with a disgusted snarl, whirling around to glare at the triple-changer, all three of them venting harshly and dripping life-En that both did and didn't belong to them.
The three mechs stood in a loose triangle, glaring at each other as they began to circle around each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Every now and then, Cliffjumper would let out a short giggle, which soon spread over to Skyquake also.
"You mechs are eensane. You are going zoo get yourshelfs keelled." The blue-faced mech said logically, his face switching to red fury as a twitch of his wing no doubt shot a spike of agony through him, "Preeferably by me!"
"Oh, we know we're crazy," Cliffjumper replied, grinning as lime green synth-En rolled down from the corner of his mouth. "But we aren't gonna get ourselves killed, yet. Cause, hey look, there's a conveniently placed phase-sixer soon to be at our mercies!"
Skyquake chuckled, "Bye."
With that, the two Autobots glanced at each other briefly, pouncing on the tan and purple jet-tank, punching, kicking, and ripping with their bare hands, the Decepticon's resistance doing very little to slow their attacks. Skyquake grunted as the triple-changer back-handed him in the faceplate, sending him staggering back several steps before charging again, ripping Blitzwing's arm right out of its socket, wrenching yet another howl from the triple-changer's vocalizers.
He stared down at the tan and purple limb, the jet turbine still mounted on the shoulder plate, which was still attached to the arm. The green jet stared between it and the mech he'd torn it off of, the fight coming to a brief halt as they all stared at the limb, watching the sparks fly from the exposed protoform.
After a little bit, Skyquake shook his helm, shaking himself from his stupor. He shrugged and snorted, snapping his fingers and shaking his helm in exaggerated disappointment, "Well, slag. They just don't make phase-sixers the way they used to."
Grinning wickedly, the green jet commenced the battle once again, clubbing the mech with his own arm. Blitzwing was still fighting, but his silence spoke volumes to the damage he'd sustained. His reactions were growing slower, and his red optics were going dim from the Energon loss.
Skyquake wrenched on the jet's wings and punched his spiked fist into the mech's arm socket, showering them all in sparks and spurts of more life-En. The triple-changer let out a ragged scream, falling to his knees and dragging Cliffjumper along with him, bringing a confused scowl to the green jet's face.
Then he saw the red warrior's fist embedded in Blitzwing's graying chassis, life-En pouring from the hole and dripping down Cliffjumper's forearm. Skyquake's grin faded slightly as he felt the signature jolt of energy run through him as the Decepticon's spark terminated. The inexplicable glee that had flooded him drained out of him in less than an astrosecond.
"Game over." Skyquake said quietly, tightening his grip on the dead mech's removed arm. He chuckled weakly at the flapping of the lifeless fingers, trying to regain the contented, pointlessly, indiscriminately, nonchalantly happy state that he had been in just a few klicks ago.
He just didn't feel it any more.
A mixture of green and blue Energon slipped down the length of his arms, dripping from his servo-tips. A sick feeling was forming in his tanks and he looked down at the shiny tan arm, noting that the reflection of his optics shown ruby once more as the emerald faded from them.
As he stood there, staring down at the shredded, mutilated, tortured gray frame that Cliffjumper gently lowered to the ground, pulling his arm out of the chassis with the utmost caution. Skyquake watched with a blank expression as the red warrior started straightening the mech's lifeless pedes and arms, laying his mangled wings flat.
The hulking green jet's armor clamped down and his posture sagged back into his usual, pointedly non-threatening position. He crouched down beside the dead mech's body as Cliffjumper stepped back, reaching forward and gently touching the mech's eerily smooth, flat faceplate, placing the removed arm beside the mech.
Pulling a paint pod from his subspace, Skyquake clenched his jaw and dipped a finger in the royal purple paint, used for one specific purpose. Ordinarily it was only used to adorn one's dearly beloved, or a highly respected war hero. However, this felt right. He slowly, carefully drew the appropriate glyphs on the mech's faceplate.
Blitzwing, Phase 6 Combatant of the Lord Protector's Elite
A Worthy Warrior, Slain Honorably in Battle,
Slain by the Unworthy.
Skyquake rose and stepped back with a grim expression, reciting the ritual blessing, "May the Well shine bright this orn."
He turned his back to the gray frame of the dead mech, seating himself several paces away from the husk, crossing his pedes beneath him, laying his hands in his lap. Not long afterwards, Cliffjumper joined him in the same, stoic position. Skyquake glared at his life-En encrusted hands with disgust.
"What did we just do?" Cliffjumper whispered, staring at his own hands.
Skyquake growled, his tone empty. He flicked a wing, biting back a hiss as he was reminded of the nasty gash Cliffjumper had sliced into the sensitive paneling. "We have helped to even the odds of this war in the Autobots' favor. We took out one of the last of the phase-sixers. We should be proud; this could win us the war."
"But we aren't."
"From a less strategic view point," The green jet rumbled, pulling at a rather deep wound in his arm, the damaged protoform leaking profusely, "We just tore a mech apart with our bare hands after mercilessly torturing him for our own amusement. We murdered a mech for mere sport, and we had fun doing it."
Together they sat in an empty silence, dripping life-En from a myriad of wounds as the sun began to rise, painting the sky in its rich hues of scarlet; the beauty lost on both of them as it seemed to depict the guilt that weighed heavily on their sparks.
Meanwhile: Autobot Base
"What'cha doin'?"
Terabyte glanced up at the pink-haired little human girl with a fond twinkle in her blood red optics, her biolights casting a red tint around her, bathing the girl's face in its scarlet light. Miko sat cross-legged on the table in front of her, watching the dark femme work. The two-wheeler tilted her helm slightly and swivelled her finials as she worked to get the circuitry spliced together just right, using the extra sensory data from her finials to boost her accuracy.
"I am..." She paused for a moment as she adjusted a particularly tricky portion of the microchip that she was constructing from the supplies she kept in her subspace. She hummed in light frustration and re-adjusted the tiny, self-recharging power cell again before continuing, "Restocking my supply of... tracking chips, because..."
Another few connections, installing the signal transmitter, "My former commander is no longer... going to be willing to... supply his traitorous officers... with..."
"Thingy-bobbers." Miko finished for her as she broke off again to solder the last few wires into the circuit, clasping the thin, titanium based shell over the top with a light, satisfying click.
"... Yes. The... thingy-bobbers. I used the last of Soundwave's a while ago, but this is the first chance I have gotten to manufacture more." She said, passing the delicate tracking device to Miko, smiling behind her mask at the way the girl's face lit up as she grabbed it and turned it around in her hands, the device being just smaller than her flip-phone.
"Sa-weet!" Miko muttered, setting it back down carefully. "So you just slap this on whoever you want, and then you can like, virtually stalk them? Does it have cameras and microphones in it too? Cause that would be some wicked spy gear if it did."
Terabyte grinned full out now, even though the girl could see little more than her optics. "Ordinarily, yes, but the Decepticons ran out of the components several vorns ago when an Autobot hijacker-team jettisoned a whole cargo hold full of tech."
The excitable girl's eyes brightened as she imagined the battle, and a grin split her face, her pony-tails seeming to bounce with her curiosity. "I'll bet it was the Wreckers!"
The midnight black and navy femme's smile faded slightly, "Actually, it was a special operations team that included the Shadow of the Autobots and the Terror Twins. Their goal was to jettison the Lord Protector, an act that would have crippled the Decepticon forces, and very likely could have ended the war before we were even in the same quadrant as Earth."
"The Shadow of the Autobots and the Terror Twins? Epic!" Miko leaned forward, bobbing her head encouragingly, her fingers lacing together in anticipation as she demanded, "Tell all."
Terabyte lay on her front on the floor of the kids' entertainment center, kicking her pedes in the air, all three of the humans sprawled out in different positions, each one listening raptly. Even Jack had come over and was laying on the sofa, propping his head up on his hand as he listened to Terabyte's story. Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead each leaned against the banister, listening to her tale with just as much interest as the children.
"The silver mech came out of nowhere, crashing down on my shoulders, his weight slamming me face-first into the floor. I sprung to my pedes, dagger and mini-cannon charged and ready, but I hadn't even noticed that he'd moved before he had my arms locked behind my back and his sword at my throat. Already I could feel the life-En trickling from where the blade pressed, the loss of Energon from my other wounds beginning to cloud my processors."
"What did you do?" Raf asked in hushed tones, as though his voice would shatter the air.
"He pressed the blade even deeper into my protoform, the blue light of his visor gleaming in the corner of my optics. Leaning over my shoulder, his grin was audible in his smooth voice, 'Sweetspark,' he said, addressing me as though I were a long-lost friend-"
"Autobots," Optimus called from the terminal where the others were supposed to have been scanning for Ratchet, Cliffjumper, and Skyquake. "Ratchet's signal has come back online. Prepare to roll out."
Terabyte sprung up from where she was lying and raised an optic ridge at the kids' moaning. "And... we will have to finish the story another time."
She started down the stairs swiftly, right as a message flicked up on her HUD, making her take a sharp vent as she read it, her optics widening. The femme missed her next step and stumbled the rest of the way down the steps, very nearly falling flat on her faceplate.
"Lord Prime!" She practically shouted, hoping to catch the mech before he ran through the ground bridge after the rest of the Autobots.
A nano-second too late, the two-wheeler stared at the empty ring where the portal had been. She hissed and ran to the groundbridge controls, ignoring the humans' protests and queries. Punching in the coordinates the medical monitor that she had managed to sneak onto Skyquake eight vorns ago had given her, Terabyte's hand hovered over the lever for a split second as her processor whirled.
That mini monitor shouldn't have even been functioning still, and even if it had managed to stay functioning, there had been plenty of times previous that should have triggered it. And yet, there it was, flashing on her HUD, informing her that Skyquake was losing large quantities of life-En.
His optics had been emerald.
The synth-En that had Ratchet running off on a solo, Megatron-assassination mission had made the medic's optics glow that same emerald. She gasped, slamming the lever down with a new fear racing through her. Skyquake had gotten a hold of the untested synthetic Energon.
Primus only knew what the jet would have gotten himself into.
Forgetting about the humans completely, Terabyte ran through the green and violet portal, her weapons charging and battle protocols spinning to life as she emerged in the barren wasteland. Blast marks and ice patches scarred the landscape, attesting to the battle that had taken place. The burning stench of spilt life-En hovered in the plasma-charged air.
She ran towards the two forms she could see sitting off a little ways away, her engine choking as she stumbled to a halt a few feet away from them as she processed the horrors that greeted her optics. Her mask fell just as fast her armor went slack against her frame, her silver hands rising up to cover her open mouth.
Golden knee-joints gave out beneath her and she collapsed to her knees with a dull thud that seemed to echo through the very fabric of reality. Hot pink coolant gathered in her ruby optics as she gazed upon what the two closest friends she had had done. Her lips opened and closed as her vocalizer hissed with static, the words failing to form.
Skyquake and Cliffjumper rose and started to approach her when they heard her pede-falls, only for them to stop and avert their gazes in shame as they saw what had stopped her.
Blitzwing's grayed frame lay in a pool of stale, fading life-En, half of his armor shredded off and lying in shiny, confetti-like strips around his husk. One arm had been torn out of its socket, and the dents in its surface spoke of it being used as a club. The triple-changer's wings were mangled, pierced, and torn, and several obsidian daggers that she recognized instantly as Skyquake's jutted out of the panelling that any mech knew was a flier's greatest weakness.
The sheer amount of pointless, agonizing injuries that she could see even from here made her ill. The little femme's frame shook with a combination of grief that her own mechs could have done this and a deep, burning fury for the very same reason. Her frame shook so hard that her armor visibly and audibly rattled against her frame as she crouched there in the dust and life-En, unable to tear her optics away from the mutilated body.
Even in all her vorns with the Decepticons, she hadn't seen anything this despicable in a very long time. Granted, she had been sheltered. But most Decepticons bragged about numbers and size, not the actual torturing. Of course she knew that the interrogation cells were filled with horrible amounts of torure, but at least there was a reason. A goal that held more depth than pure amusement.
At least then there was something to show for the suffering.