A/N: ….WOW! Look at all those lovely reviews you guys did for me! Thank you all for keeping me going! I know this is a late update, but life around the festive season has been very busy and has been killing my muse off at every turn. But finally, here it is, and just before the New Year too. Also, I'm using a suggestion from CodeRed in here. They always do such amazing reviews. Hugs to you!
Warnings: Heavy violence and more torture, character death, a bit gory.
Disclaimer: I do not own the franchise of Transformers in any way, shape, or form, save for my dvds and figurines.
Turning Point – Chapter 26
::Counterpunch.::
::Yes, my mighty Lord Megatron?::
::I have changed my mind. You may inflict whatever damage you like onto our prisoner, but not beyond repair. Once we have defeated the fools, I will have my sport with him.::
There was a long, rumbling, grating noise as the ship suddenly ploughed through the dirt of land, keeping it upright. Whoever was at the controls did not know how to make a good landing, it appeared, and so it took a few more seconds before the little blue 'Con replied to his leader.
::Affirmative.::
As the link closed, the ex-Autobot glared at the still, half-recharging from of Blaster hanging in chains before him, his frame a work of art. If art was energon dripping from cuts and dents and other injuries. Counterpunch stood, surveying the red and yellow body, wondering what would wring out the loudest screams and therefore give him the most pleasant satisfaction. He was only dimly aware that they were above ground, and that the rest of the Decepticons were panicking – why all their weapons systems were locked, and the Autobots were closing in. No, nothing like that reached here in the brig. The brig was all about prisoners and their horrible fate.
Sensing the red optics on him, Blaster cycled up to full awareness, glaring at the traitor. He hissed, pulling at his binds.
"Turns out Megatron has given me free reign over you."
Blaster snarled, "What do you mean, fragger?"
A hard fist suddenly cracked into his injured abdomen, and he made a strangled, low cry of pain. He felt something within crack, and he hoped it wasn't his energon processing tank. Then his source of energy would gush out and he would have nothing to power his frame or processor or spark. He barely had a few seconds to breathe before a fist crashed down on his knee, repeatedly, against the bend of the joint. As helpless as he was, he knew with sickening accuracy what was going to happen and dampened as many sensors as he could.
The last hard punch in a long series finally cracked through Blaster's right knee, snapping it in an awkward direction.
The larger mech didn't give the satisfaction to the smaller mech, not screaming, but growling out his pain with anger filled optics.
"Hmm, not to your liking? Perhaps…" Counterpunch trailed off, getting a set of double plating out of subspace, which fit neatly over his knuckles. He smirked as he saw the elbow joints, looking so strong. He reached up, dodging the teeth that attempted to bite him, and rubbed over the joints, testing the tension in them. His smirk widened as he saw the physics of it. Once broken, those joints would cause more pain as Blaster was using them to stand upright more than his legs in the position he was in.
"Why? S-so senseless," the boom box choked out through the pain he was in.
Counterpunch began to uppercut the elbow joints with gusto, relishing in the little grunts of pain he pulled from the mech. He gave no answer, only focus on the joints he wished so much to break.
Blaster clenched his hands, hoping this would be over soon. His comms were disabled, he couldn't hear any of his comrades, and he kept his spark shut to his creations to spare them. But he could hear as a battle began.
"Rah…stubborn joints," huffed the blue mech, slowly slightly in his speed, but not in the force of his punches.
"Nnngh," groaned Blaster, knowing that his joints would break soon. Too many hits. Too many warnings flashing in front of his optics.
When the joints finally snapped, Blaster let out a howl of pain, all his weight bearing on the damaged joints, tearing energon lines, wires, and other cables, not to mention the support struts breaking clean away.
Counterpunch grinned in a menacing satisfaction. "My task is complete," he whispered and left, saving the clip of his captive's scream for later, when he could savour it much more. He had a battle to join.
Blaster moaned in his mind boggling pain as it twinged all over his body, while white hot lines of agony spread from his broken leg and arms to his data centre. His self repair was exhausted, his systems running too hot. Knowing he wouldn't last too long awake, he shut down into recharge, hoping that when he woke again, it would be to the bright orange ceiling of the Autobot medbay.
Megatron growled as he strode out of the command centre, broadcasting a comm. to all soldiers. They were to meet him at the entrance and he was to lead them into battle, and if luck would have it, this would be for the last time. He wanted Prime's spark in his hands, he wanted dominion, he wanted his traitors so he could show them the error of leaving him.
He reached the main doors, creaking loudly from disuse. They hadn't needed this entrance into the ship ever since they had relocated to the sea.
The warlord snarled when he saw the Prime and his Autobots, fury shining in their optics and all too battle ready. "Finally!" he called out, "a real challenge from you, Prime?"
"No. I've always challenged you. This is the day that you are finally finished!"
The Autobots, arranged around the grounded ship as they were, roared in acknowledgement and encouragement.
Megatron sneered. "I suggest you leave before you come to inevitable defeat."
There was a pause before snickers echoed from some of the Autobots. The grey mech just growled, raising his fusion cannon and releasing the first blast. For him, this was an obstacle. An annoying obstacle that needed to be taken down as soon as possible. He flicked a glance around the location, finding no sign of Soundwave, his ex-Command Trine, or the annoying little brats. It played on his processor for a moment before he bellowed, "Decepticons…ATTACK!"
As the metal beings from each faction launched towards each other, Jazz, Soundwave, and Starscream cracked open a weak piece of plating from the roof of the Nemesis and slipped in. Jazz was the last in, watching as the attack began. Perfect. The distraction had worked.
They wandered the empty hallways down towards the command centre, knowing that the only mechs that would be there were the Coneheads. Starscream and Soundwave were silent, the memories of what had happened in the floor below them creeping up, trying to take over their psyche, but determinedly tramped down by each mech. Soundwave did a quick telepathic search, confirming the three Seekers through the doors before them. With that confirmed, he took another one, frowning when he detected two other mechs.
One, with a terrible clarity, he knew was Blaster.
The other, Counterpunch.
He stiffened slightly, and turned to the TIC. "Jazz. Counterpunch is leaving the brig. Course of action?"
A dark, menacing look that promised punishment crossed over the black and white's face before he nodded sharply. "He's mine. Get the Coneheads, get Blaster, and get the hell out of here." He left, leaving the two ex-Con's in front of the command doors.
Soundwave nodded at the tricoloured Seeker, who smirked in reply, crimson optics flashing. He fanned out his wings and opened the doors, three pairs of optics turning his way. As one, the three Seekers faced and saluted him. "Commander."
"Ease," he replied, before his tone took a note of concern. "Are you all unharmed?"
Ramjet turned his helm to show the impression of a large fist on the side of his cockpit. "Compliments of the slag-maker for not 'doing my job right' and 'losing control of the ship'."
Starscream and Soundwave felt hot anger bubble within them, but fought the urge. Starscream quickly checked each mech over visually, before sighing in relief. "You understand that you are all Neutrals now, fighting in your best wishes once you turn against Megatron? There is no going back."
Ramjet took the hands of his bondmates, staring back unflinchingly at his Air Commander. Starscream smirked then, saying, "Good. Now, we are going to stop by and pick up a comrade, and then escape and finish the battle. Hopefully, we'll have that peace we've been striving for."
"It would be nice to be properly fuelled," murmured Dirge.
"It is a wonderful feeling, I assure you," replied the tricolour flyer, turning and seeing Soundwave's visor flicker. "Soundwave?"
"Unexpected event: Combaticons. Able to fight. If Starscream rouses: Will fight with us. Allegiance: No longer to Megatron," explained the blue mech.
Starscream paused and considered this, knowing it could be dangerous to bring them out of stasis if Hook placed them there to conserve energy. He knew he only had one ration of normal energon and one ration of emergency energon, which powered to an initial higher percentage but burned quicker. He considered the Coneheads. "We need about 7 cubes of energon, more if you can. We will all split. Soundwave, go and retrieve Blaster and go to Ratchet's rendezvous. I will awaken the Combaticons. The Coneheads will retrieve the energon to fuel them enough to form Bruticus if possible. Then, the tide will turn in our favour, I believe."
Soundwave nodded, and the other Seekers saluted, all going off into their separate paths and separate tasks.
Starscream reached the medbay in no time, stepping in. He had to pause in the doorway, recalling the amount of times Megatron had dragged him here after one of their 'sessions.' How Hook had kept quiet and performed his job to meticulous perfection. No compassion. It looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen it.
Exhaling, the jet steeled himself. The progress he had made with Skyfire led up to this. If he couldn't do such a simple thing, that he would never be able to face Megatron again. And if he couldn't stand up to him…he may feel broken and used forever.
His thrusters heels clicked softly on the floor as he walked into a small room off the medbay. He saw the sparks in stasis as soon as he entered, and his spark gave a pang. He had created those beings from the ruins. They respected him to a degree. He had ordered them not to show favouritism toward him lest Megatron harm them as well. Pulling his processor to the task at hand, Starscream went to the control panel, hand hesitating for a seconds before hitting the switch to bring the gestalt back into consciousness.
Starscream did not have to wait long.
The sparks left the viewable stasis tank, a series of careful medical machinery returning them to the spark chambers in the frames they rightly belonged in.
He could hear as systems whirred and booted up, each mech fighting their way to consciousness.
The Conehead Trine entered with a large stack of energon cubes when Onslaught was the first mech to open his optics, sit up and look at the still Seeker.
"Well, it's good to see that nothing is keeping you down Screamer," chuckled the hulking mech, truly glad (through his rage at Megatron) to be online with his gestalt and to see Starscream again.
Anger was not the word for it.
Fury either.
Pissed off might cover it. Yeah, Jazz mused, P.O.'d was definitely what he was feeling.
Jazz slithered through the ducts in the Nemesis, having done it so many times before. He knew this ship as well as any Decepticon. He was following his prey, anticipation mounting in a dark place of himself. A place he only trusted with Prowl, who knew how well to tame it.
Counterpunch walked, unhurried, through the hallways towards the entrance. The only reason why he had made it this far alive was because Jazz let him. He wanted the execution of the traitor to be a little more…public.
They were not too far from the doors now. Jazz moved quickly, getting to a vent in front of the blue mech, who was now preparing his gun for battle.
Too. Easy.
The saboteur exploded from the vent, optic band a hard violet with fury as he stared at the traitor. He had trusted Punch. Thought he had a good hold of the dual identity.
Evidently not.
The other mech started, before some colour drained away. "Ah…fancy seeing you here."
"No banter. Ah'm not in the mood."
Jazz's voice was thunderous, and he leaped at his foe, intent on ripping him apart. Counterpunch growled and attempted to move out of the way, tried to save himself, but the black and white was at the top of his game. His claws shot out, embedding into blue armour, taking him down. In one swift, strong move, he had Counterpunch pinned and motor relays disabled.
Now he could have his fun.
The blue mech was frozen in horror as he realised his doom. He had not expected Jazz to find him so quickly.
"How dare ya. How dare ya do what ya did, after all that Ah did for ya, after all that the Autobots did for ya! Ya're getting no mercy from me. Ya don't derserve it."
Counterpunch's scream echoed out toward the battle field as frenzied claws slashed across his face, decimating his features, before they moved onto his neck. He was dimly aware in his fading consciousness that his main energon line in his neck had been severed, the pink life blood flooding the area.
Pain was as sharp as Jazz's claws in his murderous rage, slashing through him.
The last thing Counterpunch was aware of as his life ended, was the triumphant cry of the mech over him as his spark was ripped unrepentantly from his chest.
Meanwhile, most of the battle was going on well, in most Autobot's opinion. Megatron's poor management of his rationing and army led to starved enemies who were not as quick with their reflexes, and at times hesitated in what they were going to do next. In this case, the Autobots actually outnumbered the Decepticons, but most of them weren't going down without a fight, the stubborn fraggers.
They had to put up a fight, lest Megatron win, notice they had dipped in their performance and punished them for it.
To the warlord's frustration, both his operative gestalts were unable to perform due to the Autobots tactically separating each individual component across the battle area.
To add to this, he and Prime kept clashing like the titans they were, and yet, it seemed like the Autobot commander was…playing with him. There was the usual effort and strength in his opponent's fighting style. But there was no squinted optics, not as much tenseness in the joints.
Why was Prime relaxed?
It irked him, just as much as it irked him that his own slaggin' warship had decided to mutiny on him, with some Decepticons whining about how the gun turrets wouldn't fire and other weapons wouldn't deploy. He was sure he and his soldiers would have gotten the upper hand if they could have.
Growling, he continued to fight, a dark need within him to finish off his prisoner.
Elsewhere, Gears found himself on his own against Dead End and Drag Strip. He had been with Brawn, but the other minibot had gone off to chase after Astrotrain with the Twins. Now he was battling two on one, one of the rare sights in the battle. He could see his comrades trying to get to him, but blocked by other enemies.
"Give up! Megatron's going down!" he snarked at them.
His concentration lost in that moment of speech caused his gun to be knocked out of his hand by a wall of garish yellow plating, and Drag Strip pinned him.
"Nah. You are," the race car grinned.
Gears struggled to get free, the larger frame pinning him, when two new voices piped in.
"Actually D.S…you're goin' down."
Gears saw the light of day once more as Drag Strip was attacked by two…someone's. Sitting up, the minibot gaped to see that Rumble and Frenzy had come to his aid. The very mechs he had been prejudiced against had just come to his aid. He got up, still in a state of shock, and went to help them in pummelling Drag Strip and Dead End.
Maybe…they wouldn't kill them all in their berths after all.
Soundwave hurried down the brig, anxious to get Blaster out and to safety. Who knows what Megatron did to him. He was almost afraid to find out. He had no wish to use his telepathy. He had no desire to invade his friend's mind. Not when he needed that telepathic strength for later.
He opened the door, breath catching at the flash of red plating he glimpsed.
There could be traps, and he knew as much as he wished to perform the rescue, he had to err on the side of caution. He scanned the area, relieved when his scanners picked up nothing.
Edging forward, Soundwave felt his optics rivet onto the still form, hanging in chains in an un-barred cell.
Counterpunch had been careless.
He retracted his mask with a gasp as he saw the condition that the red mech was in, and he stumbled forward into the cell, mouth open in shock at the amount of damage inflicted on the once pristine frame. He forced rationality to interject for a moment, glancing down, hands tentatively touching the upper thighs. Had Megatron…?
Soundwave sighed in relief as he detected no lubricants or energon or any damage to the interface panel. It lifted such a great weight off his shoulders. He didn't know how they would have coped if Blaster had been sexually assaulted like he had been.
"Blaster," he called softly, wondering if it would rouse the mech.
No response.
Shaking his helm in sorrow, he mentally documented the extensive damage. Multiple fractures to the faceplates, a cracked optic, his wristplating rubbed down to the wire and elbow joints broken, support struts and cables hanging free. The torso had been thoroughly beaten, one leg had also been broken at the kneejoint, the other looked to be the victim of a 'melted metal' combo, a Megatron specialty. And all over there were cuts, dents, and scrapes, energon flowing from the cuts and from other badly damaged places.
Soundwave carefully caressed the damaged face. "Poor Blaster," he murmured, before reaching up and using a tool to unpick the handcuffs and other binds. The damaged arms fell immediately and his frame fell forward into Soundwave's waiting arms.
The telepath exhaled when feeling his friend fall into his arms. It meant he was halfway to getting them out of there.
He adjusted his hold so the injured mech was held bridal style, close to him. The movement, unfortunately, jostled some of Blaster's broken limbs, and the sensors transmitted the unpleasant data to Blaster's processor, and it snapped him awake. Blearily, he looked around, disoriented at the fact he was being held in someone's arms. Red, white and blue appeared in his vision, and he smiled the best he could through damaged faceplates.
"Wave," he croaked.
"Hush. Save your strength," cautioned the blue mech, worried that this energy expenditure Blaster was doing could severely harm his chances of survival and a smooth recovery.
Blaster shook his helm stubbornly. Even in his addled state, he knew he had to tell the other mech something. It was really important. Because the mech was really important.
"Please, go back into recharge," pleaded Soundwave, rocking Blaster from side to side to see if that would lull him.
Blaster was determined, and with the last of his strength before he was required to recharge, he murmured, "Soundwave….love…'Wave…love…you."
Too injured to continue, Blaster slipped back into the comfort of recharge as Soundwave stiffened in disbelief. Blaster had just physically said that he loved him. It was not strong, not impassioned like he imagined it would be. But soft, vulnerable. And that in itself meant so much to Soundwave, that Blaster would say it to him even while he was injured. The words warmed his spark, bolstered him, made him even more determined than he was before.
Slowly walking forward, he brushed his lips over the red forehelm tenderly, revelling in how he felt, how right it was to kiss him.
He was clever to think to store his telepathic powers. For Megatron was going to have it attacking him, ravaging his mind.
As soon as Blaster was safe, of course.
A/N: This was going to be longer than what it was, but when I looked at it, it didn't flow right. So the next and final part of the battle will be in the next chapter. I hope it meets everyone's expectations.
Please review! I would like to know what you think. I will try to update, but I have a lot of work in the coming weeks.