Saw the new Transformers trailer yesterday...
Let me just tell you, I was having a true fangirl moment right then and there :D
And sorry for the late update,
I had some teenager-y stuff to do :)
Anwho,
Enjoy!
Chapter 68
Platon slid from the console, his servo falling after him. His limp form slammed to the unforgiving floor, the clang of his body against the ground jarring the stillness. A button had been pressed on the control panel that had sounded the alarms. That had been his doing. A certain pride came to him when he knew he was following orders. He was a loyal Decepticon through and through. If this be his end, it would be a pleasant one, knowing that he'd ended with a successful strike against the enemy. He wasn't supposed to last very long, remember?
Smiling to himself, the 'Con rolled onto his spinal support, his arms left wide. Yes, he'd accomplished something. Galvatron would be proud, so he wouldn't kill him. Yet. At least if he lasted beyond the brazen attack of the red and the crushed part in his upper spinal support.
Of course, Bekos hadn't meant to deal this damage. That had been a mech Platon had been in company of for vorns. It was a chord that Platon must have struck to strip forth that bitter desperation in a mech with ice in his lines. Satisfaction replaced the understanding of a traitor's anger.
Coldness stole the heat from Platon's plates while he laid there, the back of his helm throbbing. That of course had been Bekos' doing. A frown touched the somber mech's faceplates. Why would Bekos do that? Why betray his own faction? He was a loyal mech as well - what could cause this? The illogical depth of it all caused darkness to hum at the edges of Platon's vision. He was one of those mechs with the 'glitch'. Too much emotion, and his processor went into a fritz.
It could only be because of his brother. There was that single reason that could behind this. That blasted, Pit-spawn traitor Titanios. Not to mention that sparkmate of his, Thunderblast. That fembot could have persuaded any mech into doing her whim. She must have been terrified by Galvatron and convinced Bekos to betray them. And still, Bekos should have held the intellectual ability to withstand her woos. Apparently, Platon had been wrong about the analyst. Apparently the emotional couldn't be trusted. Perhaps it was better to be glitched.
Flashing lights danced about the room, dressing the mech in ruby as he stayed very still. Life was a pattering of his spark in its chamber. A warmth bubbled through his tanks. Languid sludge trudged along his energon lines until they were clogged and bulging. Red caressed the curves of his faceplates, and stabbed into the crevices of him to banish the shadows to the barest of his protoform. Maybe he was like these shadows. They were carved and simple and dedicated. They didn't waver. Only an impressionable psyche may do that. Like what Bekos and his brood had.
Platon folded his servos over his abdominal slips with a sigh slipped through his fluttering vents. Warnings joined the beauty of the alarms' luminescence. Darkness ate away at the perimeter of his sight, but he embraced it. It was welcome. He'd done his dues here. If anything else had been left out and he had failed to accomplish, than may Primus let his spark linger here to finish them. The deaf ringing in his audios was only a minor disturbance. Once he was under, he wouldn't know a thing. He trusted his Decepticon peers to pull off the mission without him.
Platon slipped peacefully into unconsciousness, knowing, feeling in his very spark, that everything would work itself out for the loyal.
The room was dark. Light was nonexistent here. A sucking void took up its place, stripping the air of its availability. Pressure became abundant until its crushing force dwelled on the very gridmap of the one cowering in the corner.
No, not cowering. There wasn't reason to when there wasn't wisdom of exactly what they were to cower from. Confusion clouded anything else in the feeble consciousness of hers. A trickle of frigid shadows began at the base of her neck and traveled downward until her very toelinks were quivering. It wasn't fear that she shook. She was alone. And cold. There wasn't a body next to hers that she could cling on to.
A clamp had settled on her chassis to squeeze her already ailing spark. It wasn't used to this much room around it. The echo of each pounding thrum became an empty music resounding inside her languid form. That pathetic, empty half that had been a bond writhed uselessly against the grain of her casing. It was similar to trying to move her arm, but feeling nothing but a numb tinge when she did.
Whatever they had injected her with was making it hard to process. Remembering was difficult. She had been blinded in coming here, her servos bound behind her. Where she had come from was lost in the flurry of the moment. Fists had flown before that, and perhaps that was why they were shackled. No wonder why she couldn't feel her left arm.
All she could feel was the dank atmosphere surrounding her in muggy turrets of thick, unseen tar. It filled her vents until she couldn't vent properly anymore. Its weight anchored her frame to the ground that continuously sucked the heat from her. Coughing did nothing, if but ease the stress on her chassis for the briefest sparkbeat. Movement came without feeling, though she was in control of herself. Seeing was difficult, but she could make out the faintest of outlines of her legs. They slipped forward while a groan split her crusted lip plates.
Optic ridges came down in effort as she tried immensely to open her optics. They were stubborn to stay down and force her to rest. Though, something far, deep down inside of her, was willing her to stay conscious and be alert. They parted to reveal the pure ruby florescence beneath. It wasn't befitting of her slumped, weakened situation. They spoke of power and fierceness, not innocence or weariness. Blankets of suffocating monsters of the night were drawn to it in a mysterious thirst for the scarlet light.
Those bulbs widened, popping open with a snap. A great gust of air was inhaled through shuddering vents. They were ragged enough that one would believe them to be failing. The spark inside of her beat so drastically that the faintest of blue could be seen pulsing along the seam of the front of her chassis. That moan she'd made turned to a gasp as the chains rattled against her wrists. Her helm ripped over the width of her shoulderbolt to expose the binds of her servos. Legs kicking out, her frame shoved backwards into the accomplice of darkness. With a frame as dark as hers, she was nearly invisible. Nearly.
The memories were coming back. They had been there the entire time, wafting along the very edges of her processor. She was in another, unfamiliar space.
It was Soundwave whom had grabbed her and stolen her from Punch's side. It had been Soundwave whom had wordlessly dragged her along the floor through the halls without a second thought towards her condition. As her fighting had grown in desperation, slitting a few good-sized clips from Soundwave's leg armor and bracer, he'd yanked her up and pinned her to the wall. Her servos had then been strapped together and her optics sheathed. The prick of a needle crashed into her CPU and Fera instinctively tensed her arm with the phantom memory.
There wasn't anything wrong with her except the slight stiffness she'd acquired from sitting in the same position this long. She was wide awake at this point, with her optics prying through the dimness around her, and her frame curled as close as possible to the corner. Half of it was to keep in the warmth of her frame, as it was leaving her so rapidly she could barely keep up. Punch's voice reverberated off the walls, even as he wasn't here to speak them. They rung high in her consciousness to where she figured she'd go insane. It was clear enough to be a whisper in her audios. A shiver wracked her violently to her core.
Only the Stone may save us all.
What did that mean? What was she supposed to do with it? If she was some kind of amazing Keeper of ancient artifact of Cybertron, then how was she meant to use the Stone? And how could she use it? At this moment, she hadn't the slightest clue of a way. Every instance that the Stone had been used before had apparently been by accident. There wasn't an incline of knowledge as to how to get the Tool to activate. Along with that, the purpose it served with her was beyond her recognition as well. This device was something extraordinary - why trust her with it?
Frowning faceplates angled at the floor until she could see the buzzing glow filtering defiantly through the gloom surrounding it. The thing was an azure blue color, flooded with luminescence constantly, and flashing ever brighter when its Keeper was excited or scared or near one of the Primes.
This was the reason she was here. This was the reason she was suffering. It was this thing's fault that she couldn't be normal like the rest of the 'Bots. She knew she didn't fit in there. There wasn't hiding the sidelong glances or the scrutinizing silence that trailed her while she walked the length of the corridors. No matter how much Fera wished to be one of them, she'd known quick enough that she wasn't. She never was. She may never be. And yet, with this new frame, she may be able to be the strong warrior she'd wished to be and gain the respect she longed for alongside her comrades.
A hiss attacked the overwhelming quiet, followed promptly by a slam. Fera's optics were closed, her servos pressed tightly to her spinal support. A prayer crossed her thoughts to keep the light of the Stone low to allow her to blend in. It didn't matter whom had crossed the threshold into the room, because whomever it may be, the outcome of her situation would be the same. Beating after beating after solid beating her Guardian had received. And since she was in a proper frame, and she could handle a punch or two, they may perhaps start torturing her as well.
Solas Kaon, she remembered suddenly. He's alone. Damn.
"I see you there. You cannot hide from me."
It was unmistakable. That voice that boomed without needing to yell; that voice that cut down to her spark and clutched it with a servo laden in ice; that voice that meant everything evil or cruel in this life; it was right there. And it was directed at her. That shadow of a silhouette took position at the threshold, mighty, brazen, and black. Sightless black optics found her without effort. It was not the Stone who gave her away, but herself. He could see her.
Slowly Fera unshuttered her optics, one after the other. She wanted this all to be a glitched memory file. Of course, it wasn't. If anything, it was another of her infamous nightmares. If they could be called nightmares, rather than visions concocted of her processor an uncountable number of times that they stained her very memory core. They plagued her recharge mercilessly.
Galvatron, standing tall and dark as he did, remained unwavering in his stance at the entrance. Those unforgiving optics that told tales of countless chronicles of death and darkness focused solely on her. Through her. She should have felt honored to see into the depths of the universe itself within such a small width of exposure. She didn't. They were clawing at her frame with inescapable hooks, pulling her inward. She averted her gaze before she could be pulled in.
"Pray tell, mortal creature," Galvatron began, almost gliding towards her on peds encased in shells of rot and cinders, "of your determination of defiance. You haven't an ally here to save you." He was almost purring, helm tilted in interest. "This incredibly prevalent war and its countless abundance of absurd, dull contributors give you none a reason to prevail against me."
He prowled along the stretch separating them, eating away at it hungrily - with the gaze of a predator. Fera's frame became more agitated with each step. Until he was a yard away, she was bunched into a fevered coil in the corner. At his next step she shoved herself up off the wall and awkwardly darted off across the floor to put distance between herself and the Decepticon Lord. Anger, in its purest form, rolled off of her in waves. Heat from her vents mingled into the expanse of the grey indifference of he. This was a corner, and she was the animal backed into it.
Galvatron turned, unconcerned that she had dodged him. If anything, the hint of a grin was playing with his lip plates. Ever so leisurely, he began after her, his presence stifling the life of the room further and making it almost impossible to focus correctly. Fera followed each step of his with her own, sending them into a circling pattern along the perimeter of the suffocation of these bare, simple walls. It was a prison to her, and was certain to keep her contained with its beast. The room was empty besides the two lives inside it, which made it fortunately easier for Fera not to trip accidentally on anything. The two locked optics from across the way, Galvatron's mocking, Fera's cautious. They followed her every minuscule move with avid intensity, as if she were the most curious subject placed in front of him.
"I don't need anyone's help," Fera lied, her voice too tired and worn to possibly be convincing. "I can get out of here by myself." This was a definite lie. But, Galvatron didn't need to know that, right? For now all she needed was a distraction. That's it. Easy.
By the way he smiled his savage smile at her, he didn't believe her ruse for a split second. "Can you now?" he vented, sending rounds of venom her way through his awful tone. Fera winced and clenched her servos behind her tightly to keep her bearings. The pinch of her digits against her ample palms gave her something to single on. A pattern developed, with one press, then two, then four, and on. To survive this would mean that she needed to keep her helm. Losing herself here could mean not only her own life, but those of her Guardian's and Punch's. She needed to get back to them.
Her optics flicked from the door back to the mech stalking her. "I'm not weak anymore. It was foolish of you to put me in a frame like this," she spat at him as maliciously as she could. He wasn't affected in the least. His strides were certain and powerful - two things of which her movement was lacking. Wherever he stepped, the ground decayed as a oily-hued pit of rust. Fera was careful to avoid these spots.
"It was necessary to further my endeavors..." Galvatron growled at her, his optics narrowing. His vents -or whatever was in place of them- shuddered unevenly and gurgled in a way Fera knew couldn't be comfortable. A harrowing unease harped at her subconscious, but she batted it away to keep her processor clear. It was already cluttered with enough worries, plans, and gruesome possibilities of how this could all go wrong to consider a small detail such as that. Death.
Fera snorted, making Galvatron's smile falter. "That doesn't sound the least bit logical," she retorted sharply, shifting her shoulderbolts. Her digits wiggled, testing. "You made me more powerful. I thought I was a prisoner." Her own helm mocked his by inclining slightly to the left. "Don't you want prisoners to be weak? Broken? Beaten?"
Two already catastrophically dangerous optics turned an incredible array of renewed malevolence. "Haven't you sense to deduct a prediction to that question yourself, fembot? I had believed you to be a wiser entity than that," he rumbled. A low tone tumbled from his chassis strong enough to make the ship tremble underneath Fera's peds, as if it were afraid. Fera too was afraid, but she would rather have suffered through the torture surely laid out for her than show that quivering uncertainty working its way up her throat. She could handle it more now. Its festering drawl upon her determination was expected at this point, and as much, she had learned how to control her fear rather than fall to it.
"I suppose I'm not what you expected then," Fera sniped smartly while her arms lengthened. They could reach beneath her aft. The binds stretched the width of both thighs. She made note of these facts with an excited humming in her chassis. A newer certain kind of bravery coursed through her energon.
"As it seems," Galvatron agreed in his cruel, teasing way. "That situation, however, may very well change as of this encounter."
Fera's oral sheets shut with denta-splitting strength. There wasn't an inkling of doubt inside her that those words were promising something. Surely it wasn't positive for her or her comrades. However, as long as it was aimed for her, and not Solas, she was fine. It meant that she was in control as apposed to not. Could that be her worst fear? Losing control? That possibility eased her conscious a bit and gave her more confidence while she circled Galvatron. If his attention was all on her and not Punch or Solas, Fera could be comforted with her allowance to put into action a very brash and very stupid plan. As long as a barrel wasn't aimed at their helms, she could work freely.
All she needed was this crucial moment to work. "You couldn't trust one of your buffoons to deal with me themselves? What made you come down here all on your lonesome?" she asked, a smirk quirking the side of her faceplates. A swift yank of the cuffs told her they were connected by a chain. They were strong, but thin. Her previous frame would never have been able to break them. This one flexed her hydraulics in anticipation.
"This hasn't requirement of another other than myself," Galvatron told her with obvious disdain. Their steps continued on without sign of letting up. Until one of them made an attack, this was sure to move on. The motion of moving in a constant circle was hypnotizing in some way. Its lulling state caused the fembot to almost trip over her own weary peds. The effects of the medication were still in her apparently.
From Galvatron's balled servos, his digits tensing, and boring optics that remained still and trained, she could tell he was waiting to leap at her. That flinch of his frame betrayed that longing. One wrong move, and she was going to be grabbed. He was taking his time, letting her guard fall and her processor dull before he attacked.
An electric tingle scored along her spinal support, mixing in with the blooming flames of her spark. "I haven't got all day, my energon is going to get cold back in my room," she stated boldly, raising her mandible in a show of instant awareness. If he believed he was sleek, he was flat-out wrong. There was no tricking the new optics trailing him. "I'd rather this not take very long, my companion is awaiting me."
"Solas Kaon is indisposed. He shan't miss your presence," Galvatron relayed coldly.
Fera's spark skipped a beat. What was that supposed to mean? "Really? Does that mean it's my turn now? I've been waiting all this time to finally get a hit in, truly. Solas was having all the fun."
"Do not wish for what you haven't complete familiarity with. You may not appreciate its results."
"I'm ready now, I can take whatever you throw you half-processed glitch."
Galvatron paused, glowering at her. "You tread on thin patience, fembot."
It was working. Solas' method of antagonizing was getting through to Galvatron. It must have thrown him off as well, for he was less arrogant. Even a great Decepticon leader such as himself couldn't restrain the irritation of her challenge. "Well come on then!" she yelled at him as loud as her tampered systems would allow, arms spread wide and features ferocious. "Hit me! You slag-filled waste of space, I want you to try." She leaned forward and stopped dead in front of Galvatron. She only needed that single last push.
It finally struck the right chord, for Galvatron leapt at her with a feral bellow, his servos outstretched. Fera dodged to the side, throwing herself onto the floor on her shoulderbolt and rolling away to hit the wall a meter or so from her position. Her spinal support struck it without remorse, knocking the air from her systems. That discomfort was nothing compared to the agony she could very well endure, and that made it easy for her to ignore the blow in favor of continuing on.
Fera scrambled up on her peds by using the wall next to her and pulled her arms around under her aft. Galvatron was recovered, and turned for her. With a single hop, she was able to jump over her restrained wrists and get her servos before her. A great cry that came from the very depths of herself boiled over, burning her vocal capacitor as she raised her servos high above her kneebolt. Galvatron's mass entered her vision and his thundering steps began as he started toward her. A great shock went through her frame as Fera slammed the chain of her restraints over the sharp edge of her kneebolt cuff. It shattered, freeing her servos.
No sooner than the accomplished feeling overcame the desperate fembot, than a massive silhouette collided with her. Together, they rammed into the wall, Fera's spinal support clashing behind a curtain of sparks with the metallic surface. She arched as a crippling pain surged up across her frame. Pain receptors fought to spread numbness in place of the pain, but the attack was too sudden to offer immediate relief.
Her neck was in the grip of the sadistic Decepticon Lord, his clawed digits able to circle the entire circumference. Arms, barely responsive after being driven into the wall, rose to beat at Galvatron's bracer. Rivers of paint and scratches lined wherever Fera struck out with her own keen digits at the armor. Lashes were deep along the already scarred limb. Yet not a single grimace found itself upon his faceplates.
Fera kicked out relentlessly, refusing to give in. A sort of crazed sheen passed over her while she beat out at this entity. All her frustration and anger at this being whom had caused her such great agony was going to be let out. This was her chance to get back at him - to cause him pain for once.
In releasing a screech of her own, she kicked, scratched, punched, hissed, and squirmed as much as she possibly could. Her neck ached terribly. Her spinal support was engulfed in pain. Each inch of herself, from crest to toelinks, was caught in a chaotic shuffle of deranged fury and insane suffering. Her vocal capacitor finally gave when Galvatron pressed down on it, cutting off the device's vibration and very well nearly crushing her neck. Fera strained, stabbing her digits into Galvatron's bracer with relentless, terrified fury, and then pulling upward to relieve herself of this burden.
After silencing his prey, Galvatron lowered his helm at the frenzied 'Bot. "Your mania suits you," he chuckled with far more wicked pleasure than disgust. Her helm pitched forward, almost colliding with his noseplate. "It appeals to me certainly more than your despicable humbleness. It reminds me far too well of my brother."
A scornful twist captured Galvatron's grotesque features. It pierced Fera's resolve, and for a split moment, her fear poked through. It was shoved far into the pits of herself, but Galvatron had certainly seen it. She reminded him of his brother? Who was this monstrosity's poor sibling? Fera felt a pang of pity for them. But she also felt envy as well. They were away and free from this tyrant while she was here, being compared to them, without them having a single knowing of who she was.
"I..." Fera choked, clawing at Galvatron's bracer unsuccessfully. "I don't...know..."
Galvatron's touch intensified and Fera grimaced. His rotted oral sheets flashed. "You know very well whom I speak of, Keeper," he snapped, sending diseased lubricant flying. Fera's oral sheets fluttered and she turned her helm away as the acidic burn of the liquid brushed her cheekplate. "He sent you here! He gave you life! He granted you the Stone as an imbecile, believing it in a human to protect it, and then allowing you to become one of his blasted creations when you became too important for him to lose." Galvatron's lip plates lifted and his servo came up to grab her mandible. "Instead, he granted me an ample opportunity at victory. At chaos."
A sick sensation captured Fera at that touch. It was intrusive. His whole essence was invasive. But what made it worse was the way he move that servo from her mandible and sent it trailing roughly down her chassis.
Fera's struggles began in a renewed vigor as a gasp dragged through her vents. His palm burned her to her bareness. Those digits of his sliced through her into the wall without needing leave a single scratch. Her armor was easily cupped by the enormous mech, and the seam of her chassis was jammed into by his thumb link. At that moment, his intentions became all too frighteningly clear.
Stubborn pride was thrown to the wind as Fera's terror reared its ugly helm. A guttural shriek left her heated lip plates, the decibels muffled by the servo held against her jugular. Two legs jutted outward, kneebolts flailing. Her servos no longer fought at his bracer, but his servo, batting him away and trying to keep him from reaching her spark. If he got past that last barrier of herself...
"There isn't a single thing," Galvatron went on as he continued on despite her attempts of stopping him, "that my brother can do," his digits inched closer and Fera whimpered, "to stop me now from taking this universe as my own personal amphitheater of progeny."
His chassis slid open as the seam of Fera's own was stabbed by the mech's digits. Fera cried out in pain and distress, her optics brimmed with tears. This couldn't be happening. Galvatron was going to get at her spark and there was nothing she could do about it. Never before had she been this frightened. Until this moment of her Cybertronian life, Fera hadn't truly known fear.
The sight of his bared spark was unlike any nightmare or glitched file or white room she could be caught in. That all seemed heavenly compared to this.
It was black. Completely so. Any light was consumed and turned into an impossible, sucking vacuum of obsidian nothingness. The very density of it was collecting anything around it and crushing it. It was leaking black smoke, and surrounded in it as well. It was floating amongst the rapids of vapor, treading in the center of its master's chamber with a paralyzing aura. Its sight alone was cause for Fera's frame to seize up. A sickly tendril of air turned to smoke so rich it appeared obsidian in color and climbed outside of the opened chamber. A glint brandished the crystal-cut edge of the raw, boundless essence, beating her almost blind. More smoke inched out from the boundary of his armor, as if testing the freedom it was given.
There was nothing inside but the spark and smoke. No internal parts. No tank. No cables. No pipes. In all logic, he shouldn't be able to process without systems keeping him alive. And yet, here he was. Those digits dipping into her chassis were real. The tempered flare of stress inside her explosive core as the plates gave out and split apart was real. And the agonized scream ripping through her as the mech touched her...was all very real.
"As my Queen, you shall give me the power I need to rule this universe and take back what was rightfully mine," he whispered to her.
What that real?
A light flashed behind him, blinding her instantly.
Was that real?
Galvatron shouted loudly, making Fera's audios whine. She was dropped limply onto her side, her frame and helm bouncing off the floor one jarring time before lying still. Nothing but white could be seen while she stayed there, servo set on the ground by her faceplates while she watched the commotion from the cover of a shadow. That brilliance contradicting the darkness from before. Everything was fuzzy for those small seconds. Sights, scent, and feel were all beyond her reach. Time slowed as if running through a frozen slush. Warnings flashed in her vision, telling of a fractured strut in her forearm and the time it would take to get all downed systems back online.
The Decepticon was turned away from her, his spinal support exposed. She could jump up now and stab him in the side. It would be that simple. He was exposed. She could even feel it all now: the running of his blackened energon down her arm; her digits buried deep in the innards of her enemy; or the satisfaction inside of her as she watched the life leave his optics and ruined spark.
But she wouldn't get the chance to do that.
The head of a hammer, wider than Fera's chassis across, and plated in an iridescent shimmer of gold and silver, swung into Galvatron's frame. He was sent flying to the side before crashing into the wall. Fera withheld the cringe she felt coming on as she rose to a sit. He wasn't worthy of her pity.
Warmth and light assaulted the dark. It banished the shadows and overcame the battle of nothing, bringing forth a whiteness Fera had feared she'd forgotten. She was no longer used to the barrage of radiance, and it forced her to squint at the source of it until her sore optics had reached a better stability. Her arm lowered, revealing whom stood behind.
It was a fembot. Her armor was crafted in a complicated puzzle of beautiful gold and silver designs that matched the hammer she held, with glyphs lining the sides of her helm and arms, and decorating the surface of the capes hanging off either side of her hipbolts. More of these strange symbols ran down the handle of her hammer and around the bands wrapping around the flat of both heads. There was a certain grace and delicacy in her, however, there was no sense of any weakness when she hefted the hammer, with a handle tall as herself and a top longer than her chassis, over her shoulderbolt. Her noble helm bowed, her agonizingly pure faceplates solemn.
The fembot stepped toward Fera, her stride more a deadly dance than steps at all. She stopped at Fera's side, her light managing to overcompensate the darkness from before. A petite servo reached down, offering the fallen Autobot a helping aid.
Fera wasted no time taking that servo, and without a sign of effort, the angelic fembot helped her to her standing. Fera felt immediately unequal when compared next to this vent-taking being. It wasn't only because she was taller, by at least a good six feet actually, but because Fera knew right then and there that she would never compare to that value of illustrious virtue.
"Are you alright?" she questioned Fera. Even her voice was thick and regal. Fera was ashamed of herself.
She nodded, struck speechless by both the fembot and her injured vocal capacitor. The fembot's arm slung over the handle of her hammer, digits dangling. Her optic ridges burrowed and her faceplates darted towards Galvatron's crumpled form and then back to Fera. There was an edge of haste in her body language, as if standing still was making her anxious. She had every right to be.
"Fera, listen to me, I have little time here to waste," she hissed, coming closer and ducking down to murmur beside Fera's audio. She nodded dumbly, too caught up in her shock of the moment to do anything else. "You must escape this place and find the Primes whom walk this planet. They can help you with the Stone of Primus - to control it."
"Who are you?" Fera managed with a croak, voice broken like the ocean or a turbulent, creaking metal plate. Her servos came up to cup her neck where her sore vocal capacitor was. The mysterious fembot's optics found the movement and a servo of her own lifted, laying over the spot and Fera's broken forearm. She hadn't really noticed it hurt until now.
While the fembot continued on, a pleasant sensation pulsed from her gentle digits. It was gentle as the kiss of the breeze. "We haven't time for indulgences, my dear. I merely have the energy to protect you for this briefest of terms." Her optics were distant and a bit saddened, her lip plates up in a supportive smile. Fera felt undeserving of it.
"How can I trust you if I don't know you?" Fera pressed, boring her optics into the fembot's.
Her savior's mandible hardened and her sights cooled into solid pearls. When had her optics turned white? The tenseness in her was visible, even as she stood and took her servo away from Fera. It was a jerky gesture, one that Fera was not blinded to.
"You always were curiously observant," the glorious being sighed, her hammer shifting on her shoulderbolt. "My descendants call me Sol-"
She didn't get to finish as a canceling darkness to her light tackled her from the right. The impact send a shock wave that thrust Fera from her peds and into the wall behind her. Collecting herself, Fera was able to make out the shape of the fembot as she was flung aside by Galvatron along the floor. Her form twisted nimbly against the grating surface, peds kicking up sparks. With a valiant cry, she rounded back onto her peds with her hammer held firmly in servo.
A roar that came from deep within Galvatron shattered the expanse separating he and the fembot. Its volume made Fera clap her servos over her audios to protect herself. But her optics stayed wide open, trained on the pair as they sized one another up.
Sol was far shorter than the mech, but her overall presence and intimidating stance let expectations drift out of Fera's processor. They circled as Fera and Galvatron once had, leaving not a single step go without study.
Galvatron charged first, and Sol swung out with her hammer. It slammed into the side of Galvatron's helm with an air-rippling thud. The mech tumbled sideways as matter itself shimmered and his armor was caved. He spun, stumbling onto one kneebolt with his helm warped in ways a helm should never be. In the span of three sparkbeats, he was recovered, with his cranial unit back in shape from being morphed inward. Poisonous malice dripped off his form while he rose, hunched to strike again, the smoke billowing out around him. His claws shined in Sol's light when he let them slide into being. Once again he ran at Sol, arms aimed for the swift fembot.
Fera went rigid and Sol's name tinged her lip plates, but she couldn't quite have the circuits to call anything. When Galvatron slid beneath Sol's next hammer swing, her oral sheets flashed, as she must have known that she'd made a fatal mistake. She'd exposed her abdomen. Fera's plates rose and she held her servos to her lip plates to keep from screaming.
There was only a blur of Galvatron's arm before his digits sliced Sol smoothly across her midsection. The fembot grunted and doubled over, her free arm wrapping around herself and golden energon pouring from the wound. It trickled over her bracer, beading off to plop on the ground between her balanced peds. Hammer lowered now, she was helpless to recover in time. Galvatron struck again, punching Sol square in the faceplates and sending her in reverse off her peds. Her helm snapped back and she flew. He ran with her, meeting her when she hit the wall with his arm raised high.
The injured fembot lifted her hammer over her helm, deflecting Galvatron's strike and allowing her to kick out. She hit Galvatron's kneebolt, bending it backwards with a sickening crack. Galvatron seemed unaware of the injury altogether, the lust for energon in his optics surely blinding him. He punched again and Sol's helm yanked left. A large welt decorated the wall where Galvatron had made contact.
Sol shoved upwards, using the brunt of her hammer to force Galvatron to straggle backwards. His arms wheeled, his too-large frame unable to balance well against Sol's attack. She lifted up onto her kneebolt, and to Fera's dumbstruck amazement, swung her hammer up and around in a circle before sending the flat head of the weapon into the floor.
Instead of spirals of twisted metal and an explosion of fiery sparks, a golden sheet flew skyward toward the roof, splitting Galvatron off from Sol. He roared and started at the glittering barrier, his fist coming down in unrestricted anger on the protective shield.
Sol rose then, her arm around her waist. Her hammer dragged behind her when she turned and started walking at Fera. The smaller fembot couldn't hold back the freeze of her frame when the mighty, wounded warrior knelt low to be at optic-level with her. The hammer laid down, defeated, and Fera's savior heaved heavy vents.
"I can't stay here, my power grows ever fainter," Sol told her smoothly, vents fighting as she failed to hide her pain. "But I may leave you here, Fera Lennox, with a message..."
Her frame keeled and Sol's faceplates twisted. Fera started forward unconsciously, meaning to help, but Sol waved her off. "Do not fear for me, precious Keeper. This is only a fractal of myself. But I must warn you before I leave," she paused as Galvatron bashed against the barrier, making a crack appear in the golden wall. An almost indistinguishable crack seemed to appear in her too. "Of a Keeper shall victory arise, through dashed casualties and happenstance, and join as sister of I before eternity may be vanquished under Chaos." Her free servo clapped against Fera's shoulderbolt. "You are the only one left. You are alone. But we are watching you; we are protecting you however we can, Fera, believe me that."
Galvatron's beating worsened, and Sol winced. "As Prime, I grant you luck," she went on, gently pressing her foreplate to Fera's, making the fembot shiver with the immeasurable energy passing between them. "However, I fear it is time I make my leave. I haven't right to stay here and ruin a reunion, have I?"
And with that, she faded from existence.
The barrier fell, but at the same time, the door to the room flung open. Into the darkness, the one and only Solas Kaon barreled in. He sprinted full-out at Galvatron's unsuspecting form, tackling him to the floor. A cry sounded, though from Solas or Galvatron, Fera couldn't be sure. She shot to her peds, starting forward without really thinking about her actions.
Another unseen mech rushed in, saw Solas on the ground with Galvatron, and then found Fera's running form. In an instant he made his decision, and went for her, intercepting her feet from the brawling pair. She screamed and struggled, striking out at her restrainer and catching him on the mandible with a well-placed punch. He barely reacted other than a grimace. Powerful arms swept underneath her legs and Fera suddenly found herself picked up and whisked from the room.
"No!" she shouted, pounding on the chassis of her captor. "Let me go! Solas needs me! Let me go!"
"You're far more idiotic than I'd originally believed if you think you may fight against Galvatron," the familiar voice stated. Fera found Bekos holding her now, his grey and black armor registering with her the second she saw him in the light of the alarms overhelm. Her struggles became worse after finding herself in the arms of her traitor's brother.
"Let me go!"
She knocked the mech in the mandible and he huffed, holding her out from his frame. Fera pushed against him as well, desperate to escape. Her digits were throbbing from punching the mech twice already, but that was a minor distraction compared to the main issue at attention. Bekos wouldn't let her go, but he wasn't holding her close anymore while they ran. Where where they going? Why was he here?
Fera froze. Why was Solas there?
"Did you let Sol free?" she demanded, her optics wide. Bekos nodded and abruptly yanked around the corner, almost dropping Fera. She grabbed hold of him to keep from falling.
"Frag, Vortex is here," Bekos hissed, stealing himself back into cover. "He should be with Punch!"
"You know where Punch is?" Fera questioned, her gaze suddenly hopeful.
"They moved him into Vortex's lab for 'questioning'," Bekos relayed, setting Fera down on her peds and then craning his neck around the corner again. "At least, that's what I thought. He must be in East wing of the ship. Slag it all to Pit!"
Fera shook her helm and held her midsection, pressing her spinal support to the wall. Everything was happening too fast for her to register correctly. Where was Solas? Was he ok? Had Galvatron hurt him? What she wouldn't give to have the bond between them alive again. She was going insane with all the pandemonium happening around her, and the unknowing if her Guardian now lay deadsparked at the peds of her assailant.
First, Galvatron had tried to bond with her. Bond. The thought almost made her purge in itself. What immeasurable torture that would have been. To feel him for the rest of her existence, and be aware that he was the only one able to touch her again and claim her...
Then, a fembot appeared from nothing and saved her from that very mech trying to get her to make a contract with the Devil. Fera had never seen her before, but she felt as if she should know the being somehow. There was a prick of knowledge in the very back of her CPU, but the noise around her as the alarms wailed away was making it difficult to process. Where was Solas Kaon?
That's when the connection hit her.
"Get down, and stay there!" Bekos shouted, shoving Fera to her kneebolts. She crouched low, hugging her kneebolts and watching Bekos' spinal support as he released a blaster from his bracer. His servo opened above her, his posture protective. Of all the mechs, why would Bekos want to protect her? Why would he betray the Decepticons and set Solas free? Was it about Titanios? Did that mean that Titanios... Until she saw it for herself, this event with Bekos would only be by his will.
A shape abruptly emerged from the shadows of the corridors and pierced Fera's view rushing through the state of disarray and letting his battle cry sing high. Fera perked up, arms clinging to her legs, and her hope soared. Solas Kaon barreled right past Bekos and into the fray of battle, his left optic red and his right oddly covered by a displaced piece of his helm. Bekos groaned and threw a knife down at Fera's kneebolts before running off after Sol.
Sol. Solas. Solas' name came from a Prime.
Solus Prime.
Fera had just met Solus Prime.
A giddy feeling overrode the terror of the moment. Her panic settled into the numb recess of her rear processor, leaving nothing but determination in the forefront. A Prime had saved her. That meant that out there, there were beings whom believed she was worth saving. Their pride and faith placed the courage in her that she had been missing thus far. She grabbed the knife in one servo tight enough to strain the pivotjoints in her digits. Nothing but a dulled ache came from her previously broken left forearm. It was healed from Solus' belief.
Solus Prime had come to protect her from Galvatron. Her, an undeserving and weak outcast of the Autobots. Had Vector Prime sent her? Why didn't he come instead?
These questions were left milling around in her CPU while she stood and backed into the wall, her gaze searching both sides of her. Behind the squeal of alarms, she could hear blaster fire from her comrades and other enemy shooters. All she had was a knife. How was she supposed to protect herself with a knife?
The firing seemed to go on forever. It was a matter of shooting, then return fire, always in a cycle until it became Fera's own pulsing energon and spark. Nothing was as important as this. Her optics focused ahead, servos shaking, while she silently vowed to protect the rear of her comrades. This day, a Decepticon had become her ally; a demon had tried bonding to her; and she was to escape an enemy vessel with guns and blasters, armed herself with only a knife and two meager mechs.
As soon as it had all began, it ceased. Fera tensed up, her frame pressing to the wall and her fist tightening impossibly more on the knife until its shaking carried through to her frame. Whoever was coming around the wall, she had to be prepared to kill them. She bit her lip plate, preparing herself. It was going to be a new sensation, killing someone. Even if that someone was an enemy, Fera didn't know if she had the gull to actually do it.
Fera began humming a song to herself, trying to calm her racing spark. It had been one Solas sang to her when she had trouble falling back into recharge. It managed to always relieve her and allow her to have a peaceful rest. Now, it was letting her concentrate. He had told her once that she had taught it to him, but she didn't remember ever knowing the song. She wished she knew where it had come from.
The lamb I did see, the lamb, the lamb...
A ped stepped around the corner and Fera screamed, lurching forward. The knife sailed, but was deflected instantly by their own blade. A strong servo snatched her wrist, making her drop the knife. They mercilessly yanked her upwards, very nearly dislocating her arm from its socket. The swift pain stunned her, and she was unable to strike out right away.
She was lifted up into his faceplates, their expression set in a deep scowl. That one optic bored into her very spark, sending a chilling thrill through her. They were unforgiving as they searched each and every minuscule, visible piece of her faceplates. Another mech, Bekos, appeared over the mech's shoulderbolt, alive, and covered with the breath of battle.
"Solas Kaon wait, that's-"
Fera didn't hear the next words from Bekos. She was too busy being squeezed into a mech's chassis, arms encircling around her.
With a laugh, Fera returned the hug, her embrace perhaps tighter than that of her Guardian's. Her arms were around his neck, her helm buried beside his. Solas spun her around, his grip never faltering. Their relief was passed between their flustered vents as burning puffs of air. Heat seared their systems when they pressed together, but Fera would rather have that than a cold, dead one.
It was too long to say when they let go, but when they did, Solas made sure to place his foreplate on her own in a lasting show of affection. "Are you alright?" he murmured. Fera nodded against him, her venting evening out, and she squeezed his servo with hers. She wanted to tell him about Solus Prime and the fembot saving her from bonding with Galvatron, but now didn't seem the time or this the place.
"Alright, both of you, come on!" Bekos barked eventually, already wise to that fact as well.
Reluctantly, Fera released Solas. But she kept right on his heelpeds when he started off after Bekos. The Decepticon knew the ship far better than Solas or she, so they had no choice but to trust him for now to lead their way. When had Solas found it in him to trust the enemy? There must have been something that happened to sway the unwavering.
The three of them traveled quick down the length halls, their armor bouncing off the rays of the alarms. Cameras were shot on their way, and so were the soldiers searching the ship. Fera had to keep her sights straight and off of the bodies falling around her, especially when it was Solas whom was forced to shoot instead of Bekos. For now, she wanted to preserve the heroic image of him, standing victorious over Galvatron, and not the vicious Autobot warrior he could, and was forced, to be.
Solas waved Fera to stay at one point of their sprint down a flight of stairs, his blaster warming when it angled up toward the roof. She stalled uncertainly on the stair, one ped higher than the other, and a servo touching the wall. It was all she could do to nod and place her free servo to the knife now hanging on her hipbolt. Solas and Bekos stormed out of the exit and disappeared. A moment later, Solas poked back in and gestured her on.
This part of the ship was still unfamiliar. She hadn't payed much attention to direction when Soundwave had taken her from Punch. However, she still had trouble comprehending how Bekos could so easily maneuver around this maze of a ship. He must have trailed these halls millions of times while aboard it. What had he done as a passenger of the Nemesis? How many lives had he taken as a member here simply because he was following orders?
The flier and Solas had to shoot down three more soldiers as the group made their way past the east wing entryway. Solas was visibly slowing, his neglected and battered frame weighing him down. Fera pressed on, setting a servo on his arm as they ran to keep him going. She would not allow him to fall behind, even if her life depended on it.
Bekos stopped at one point, his steps slowing to a halt when the three came to a short hall two down from the main. Bekos snarled, throwing his fist in frustration before kicking the wall. "Frag!" he spat, stalking in a circle to kick a hapless keypad. "Vortex's lab must have moved. I have no idea where it could be now!" Without turning, he looked at the Autobots over his shoulderbolt. "That probably means we have to leave your comrade behind."
"No!" Fera shouted, trying to catch her venting. "No, that's out of the question. We have to find him. We can't leave him here like this!" If they left him now, this would all be for nothing. All their battles here, and all their and his suffering would have been meaningless.
"How do you suggest we find him then, hm? Because I haven't the slightest clue!" Bekos shouted right back, stomping up to the stubborn fembot with his faceplates jutted toward hers. Solas barred an arm between them, his gaze warning. Fera snorted distrustfully at Bekos while he respectfully stepped away, her optics narrowing. His aggravated systems revved from what seemed to be frustration and urgency, and he clenched his servos endlessly.
Solas removed his arm and instead pushed Fera toward Bekos. "I think I have one," he said, ignoring Fera's indignant jerk away from the ex-Decepticon. "But you may not like it."
Confused, the mech and fembot watched their company as he went around the corner they were at and disappeared. When she moved around it, she jumped as Solas grabbed hold of a soldier Fera hadn't even known was standing there. He could have came around that wall and found them, alerting the rest of the ship of their location. Maybe that was why Solas was the Guardian and Fera was the guarded.
Either way, the mech dragged his capture backwards, one arm around the mech's neck and the other over his lip plates. Solas brought the soldier into the open where Bekos and Fera could plainly see, away from reach of the communications centers or alarm systems. The Autobot then turned reckless optics on those watching him, his expression savage.
"Bekos, turn Fera away, she doesn't need to see this," Solas ordered, sitting down and shifting his grip to keep hold of the soldier and free one of his servos. Fera's optic ridges knitted, her interest fogged by concern.
"Solas, what are you-?"
"Just do it!"
Solas then plugged in the tip of his digit into the soldier's helm, and a scream beyond these worlds breached the mech's covered lip plates.
Things have picked up some, ya? :)
I knew I needed to get something going soon, or else you all would get bored!
It's been too long, really, since Sol's been in a good match.
But some emotional stuff is going to happen next chapter,
so forgive me for the late post again,
and I hope to see you next week! :D
*Chapter inspiration: Only Human= Christina Perri*