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I have come to the conclusion that bunnies are pretty unhelpful when it comes to naming fics...
Title: ((*points at Post Subject*))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Story brought to you courtesy of Bunny #5. Yes, there will be more, once I get the fragging lapin to stay still. Eesh.
Praxus fell in a rage of fire and destruction. Above, fliers bearing the Decepticon sigil shrieked across the sky, striking terror in the sparks of the bots below, before ground troops ended their fear by snuffing out their lives. Buildings exploded, structures collapsed, and the wails and curses of the trapped, helpless and impotent built, surged, then faded to a dying whimper.
One lone cry remained, picked up by three different sets of receivers.
= = =
//Help, please help! Is anyone there?!//
The message was in proper Cybertronian, but punctuated by glyphs of seeker dialect as the sender occasionally lapsed into a more instinctive level of programming. He turned, wheeled and scanned, trying to determine the origin of the signal as he replied.
//Where are you?//
//I… I can’t… see! Buried!//
The other sounded panicky. He scanned again, sweeping the devastated area with greater urgency. Seekers were not meant to be underground. He spoke, voice calm and reassuring.
//Talk to me, keep the line open. I’m looking for you. Are you injured, or just pinned?//
//Something… hurts. Sensors keep flaring and dying. Can’t… move!//
Two other voices joined them, patching into the connection.
//Don’t panic, I’m looking for you too.//
//And me! Don’t worry, we’ll find you!//
Silence, and one of the others barked over the comms, voice harsh with anxiety.
//Hey! Bolt head! Keep talking so we know you’re alive!//
He sighed, and asked another question. //Do you have partners? Are they with you? Can you raise them?//
//S..sorry. I’m trying, but I can’t speak to them. I think they’re alright, and coming. Probably slow going, with… with everything.//
That was odd. If this mech was fully fledged, not in an initial group like he still was (more for getting used to flying and communicating as a triad, though most such trines made it intact to the formal joining), where were the other two? And why couldn’t the mech speak to them over his trine link? He ignored the niggling worry in favour of keeping the trapped one calm.
//They’re alive, that’s good enough. Keep talking to us, don’t let yourself go offline.// He soothed, and directed his next comments at the other two seekers. //Both of you, call your wing leaders, more fliers in the air will make this easier. They shouldn’t be far.//
He heard their affirmations as he checked in with his own leader, making his report and stating his request for aid. The reply nearly tumbled him out of the air.
//Cease and desist. Leave the bot.//
//Sir! That’s a trapped seeker down there!//
//There are none who deserve to be called seekers in Praxus.//
//Even if he’s an Autobot, he’s one of us! Are you a seeker or aren’t you?! The code-//
//That mech is no seeker! Get your aft out of Praxus and back to base, Thundercracker. I’ll deal with you there.//
The connection cut off abruptly, and he flew on, bewildered. Hesitantly, one voice crackled into life again on a private line. No need to frighten the trapped mech further with the news.
//My leader wants me to pull out…//
His spark fell.
//The missparked tanker with wings that calls himself my leader is refusing to help too.//
//Frag. Mine’s the same. You two go, I’ll look on my own.//
//No slagging way.//
//I’m not going anywhere ‘till we find this bot.//
Their answers came in unison, and he smiled. //Right then. Don’t say I made you do this.//
//You couldn’t make me do anything.//
The snarky reply turned his grin into a laugh, and he sped on, finally locking onto the trapped mech’s signal. //Found him! Coordinates as follows.//
= = =
Their bot was completely hidden by rubble, but the signal was definitely there. He landed carefully, mindful of his surroundings. A wrong step could send something crashing down, possibly hurting the buried mech more. Thankfully, he was still talking, but he sounded disoriented, and his words were getting fainter, and his sentences more fragmented.
Behind him, the other two fliers landed, gracefully touching down as he turned to see them. An optic ridge raised. He knew these mechs, had never met them, but their names were high up on the list of promising fliers. Each had already formed a tentative trine, like he had. All that remained was the formal ceremony, joining them programming and processor.
“Starscream. Skywarp.”
The purple one nodded, smiling faintly. “Thundercracker. Heard of you.”
“As have I of you two.”
“Swap stories later. Let’s get the mech out first.” Starscream snapped, reaching for the nearest piece of fallen building. Skywarp made a face at the seeker’s back, mouthing the word ‘Bossy’ at Thundercracker, who was hard pressed to smother his entirely inappropriate laughter. Slowly, they uncovered grey metal, covered in dust caked on with still fresh energon. Their mech had drifted into silence, and they stiffened at the thought of being too late.
//I… can feel something moving. Is that you?//
His voice over their comms was music to their audios, and they exhaled in relief. //If your paint job is grey, then yeah, we found you.// Skywarp patted the patch of metal carefully.
//It is. And I can feel that too.// The joy in the mech’s voice was gratifying to hear, and they doubled their efforts. As more rubble was cleared, they exposed a knee joint, plating scorched, but mostly intact, then another, twisted completely into something almost unrecognisable. His arms were next, but his torso and midsection were completely pinned by more rubble, held there by a beam that was too big for them to lift on their own.
“Slag, what do we do now?”
“Clear the space about where his head should be, he’s been stuck in the dark for ages.”
The helm of this mech was unlike that of any seeker the three had ever seen. A chevron, dented and much abused, still shone a defiant red above his forehead. Optics flicked online, glowing blue. But as the bot looked up into their faces, his relieved smile quickly vanished and he jerked backwards in reflex, crying out in pain as he twisted, trying to free himself in blind panic.
Starscream caught hold of the grey helm, holding it still while Skywarp and Thundercracker each took an arm.
“Hey, calm down! You’re going to hurt yourself further, you glitch!”
“No, nonononono!” The mech didn’t seem to hear them, fighting their efforts to restrain him with a frantic expression, wild and hunted like a techfox cornered by some noblemech’s rifle. Starscream yelled as the mech’s chevron came close to putting out an optic.
“Frag, what is your problem?! We just dug you out, risking our plating and, once we get back to our squads, our audios. My wing leader’s gonna be slagged to the Pit when I next see him.”
“You’re Decepticons! You just decimated Praxus! What are you doing here? Come to finish the job, make sure none of us survive?”
“Hey, we had nothing to do with this, ‘kay?!”
“Get away from me! I saw the 'Cons kill bots, laughing at them when they begged for mercy! Chasing down anyone who tried to flee the city and tearing them apart! What did they ever do to you?!” Thundercracker and Skywarp gritted their denta, fighting to hold on to the mech’s arms. Starscream cast about for options in desperation, before digging his fingers under the purple symbol on his plating, tearing it from his armour with a stifled hiss of pain.
“Look, I’m not a ‘Con, see? No faction symbol! Look at me. Stop thrashing so you don’t offline yourself.” The other two mechs stared at the seeker, optics wide in disbelief. Amazingly, they felt the mech calm down, air intakes panting raggedly, and they relaxed their grip on him.
“Not a ‘Con?” The words were slightly slurred, and the seekers suddenly realised that the mech’s struggles had caused energon to flow from only Primus knew where, under the wreckage that still held him down.
“Not a ‘Con, keep talking, look at me.”
“Scared.”
“It’s alright. We’ll get you out.”
“Hurts.”
Thundercracker could see the other seeker bite back his first, harsher response to soothe the mech.
“I know, but you have to stay online, focus on me. We need you to stay with us, alright?”
“‘kay…”
Quietly, insistently, Starscream talked on, keeping the mech awake as the other seekers started trying to budge more rubble to get at what wounds they could. As Skywarp shifted forward to pry at something in front of their trapped mech, the grey bot cried out again, optics fixed on the insignia on his plating. Cursing his faction, Skywarp scrabbled at the mark with a piece of metal, disfiguring it enough so that it was indistinguishable, and the mech calmed once more.
It was then that someone else joined them.
= = =
The three seekers started as a thick cloud of smoke blanketed the area, blinding them and somehow befuddling their sensors. A form, indistinct amongst the haze and shadows, appeared to materialise in brief flashes, striking out at them as they stumbled about, and then fading into the miasma once more. With some alarm, they realised that their motor systems had been immobilised.
“What the frag is this?!”
“Hey, let us go!”
Thundercracker remained silent, watching carefully as the fog slowly dispersed, revealing a pair of mechs on either side of the trapped one. His optics widened, and at the edge of his vision he saw Starscream’s stunned expression, and Skywarp’s vaguely confused apprehension.
Both had the same type of chevroned helm as the trapped mech.
Both shared a frame type, one that matched what little they’d uncovered of the other bot, with sensor panels sweeping from their shoulders, much like he suddenly suspected the grey mech between them had, under all that rubble.
Standing in front of them, body language wary and defensive, were the Autobots’ best diversionary tactician, and the Second in Command of the whole fragging Autobot army.
And he knew, without a doubt, as impossible as it seemed, that they were this mech’s trinemates.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Story brought to you courtesy of Bunny #5. Yes, there will be more, once I get the fragging lapin to stay still. Eesh.
Praxus fell in a rage of fire and destruction. Above, fliers bearing the Decepticon sigil shrieked across the sky, striking terror in the sparks of the bots below, before ground troops ended their fear by snuffing out their lives. Buildings exploded, structures collapsed, and the wails and curses of the trapped, helpless and impotent built, surged, then faded to a dying whimper.
One lone cry remained, picked up by three different sets of receivers.
= = =
//Help, please help! Is anyone there?!//
The message was in proper Cybertronian, but punctuated by glyphs of seeker dialect as the sender occasionally lapsed into a more instinctive level of programming. He turned, wheeled and scanned, trying to determine the origin of the signal as he replied.
//Where are you?//
//I… I can’t… see! Buried!//
The other sounded panicky. He scanned again, sweeping the devastated area with greater urgency. Seekers were not meant to be underground. He spoke, voice calm and reassuring.
//Talk to me, keep the line open. I’m looking for you. Are you injured, or just pinned?//
//Something… hurts. Sensors keep flaring and dying. Can’t… move!//
Two other voices joined them, patching into the connection.
//Don’t panic, I’m looking for you too.//
//And me! Don’t worry, we’ll find you!//
Silence, and one of the others barked over the comms, voice harsh with anxiety.
//Hey! Bolt head! Keep talking so we know you’re alive!//
He sighed, and asked another question. //Do you have partners? Are they with you? Can you raise them?//
//S..sorry. I’m trying, but I can’t speak to them. I think they’re alright, and coming. Probably slow going, with… with everything.//
That was odd. If this mech was fully fledged, not in an initial group like he still was (more for getting used to flying and communicating as a triad, though most such trines made it intact to the formal joining), where were the other two? And why couldn’t the mech speak to them over his trine link? He ignored the niggling worry in favour of keeping the trapped one calm.
//They’re alive, that’s good enough. Keep talking to us, don’t let yourself go offline.// He soothed, and directed his next comments at the other two seekers. //Both of you, call your wing leaders, more fliers in the air will make this easier. They shouldn’t be far.//
He heard their affirmations as he checked in with his own leader, making his report and stating his request for aid. The reply nearly tumbled him out of the air.
//Cease and desist. Leave the bot.//
//Sir! That’s a trapped seeker down there!//
//There are none who deserve to be called seekers in Praxus.//
//Even if he’s an Autobot, he’s one of us! Are you a seeker or aren’t you?! The code-//
//That mech is no seeker! Get your aft out of Praxus and back to base, Thundercracker. I’ll deal with you there.//
The connection cut off abruptly, and he flew on, bewildered. Hesitantly, one voice crackled into life again on a private line. No need to frighten the trapped mech further with the news.
//My leader wants me to pull out…//
His spark fell.
//The missparked tanker with wings that calls himself my leader is refusing to help too.//
//Frag. Mine’s the same. You two go, I’ll look on my own.//
//No slagging way.//
//I’m not going anywhere ‘till we find this bot.//
Their answers came in unison, and he smiled. //Right then. Don’t say I made you do this.//
//You couldn’t make me do anything.//
The snarky reply turned his grin into a laugh, and he sped on, finally locking onto the trapped mech’s signal. //Found him! Coordinates as follows.//
= = =
Their bot was completely hidden by rubble, but the signal was definitely there. He landed carefully, mindful of his surroundings. A wrong step could send something crashing down, possibly hurting the buried mech more. Thankfully, he was still talking, but he sounded disoriented, and his words were getting fainter, and his sentences more fragmented.
Behind him, the other two fliers landed, gracefully touching down as he turned to see them. An optic ridge raised. He knew these mechs, had never met them, but their names were high up on the list of promising fliers. Each had already formed a tentative trine, like he had. All that remained was the formal ceremony, joining them programming and processor.
“Starscream. Skywarp.”
The purple one nodded, smiling faintly. “Thundercracker. Heard of you.”
“As have I of you two.”
“Swap stories later. Let’s get the mech out first.” Starscream snapped, reaching for the nearest piece of fallen building. Skywarp made a face at the seeker’s back, mouthing the word ‘Bossy’ at Thundercracker, who was hard pressed to smother his entirely inappropriate laughter. Slowly, they uncovered grey metal, covered in dust caked on with still fresh energon. Their mech had drifted into silence, and they stiffened at the thought of being too late.
//I… can feel something moving. Is that you?//
His voice over their comms was music to their audios, and they exhaled in relief. //If your paint job is grey, then yeah, we found you.// Skywarp patted the patch of metal carefully.
//It is. And I can feel that too.// The joy in the mech’s voice was gratifying to hear, and they doubled their efforts. As more rubble was cleared, they exposed a knee joint, plating scorched, but mostly intact, then another, twisted completely into something almost unrecognisable. His arms were next, but his torso and midsection were completely pinned by more rubble, held there by a beam that was too big for them to lift on their own.
“Slag, what do we do now?”
“Clear the space about where his head should be, he’s been stuck in the dark for ages.”
The helm of this mech was unlike that of any seeker the three had ever seen. A chevron, dented and much abused, still shone a defiant red above his forehead. Optics flicked online, glowing blue. But as the bot looked up into their faces, his relieved smile quickly vanished and he jerked backwards in reflex, crying out in pain as he twisted, trying to free himself in blind panic.
Starscream caught hold of the grey helm, holding it still while Skywarp and Thundercracker each took an arm.
“Hey, calm down! You’re going to hurt yourself further, you glitch!”
“No, nonononono!” The mech didn’t seem to hear them, fighting their efforts to restrain him with a frantic expression, wild and hunted like a techfox cornered by some noblemech’s rifle. Starscream yelled as the mech’s chevron came close to putting out an optic.
“Frag, what is your problem?! We just dug you out, risking our plating and, once we get back to our squads, our audios. My wing leader’s gonna be slagged to the Pit when I next see him.”
“You’re Decepticons! You just decimated Praxus! What are you doing here? Come to finish the job, make sure none of us survive?”
“Hey, we had nothing to do with this, ‘kay?!”
“Get away from me! I saw the 'Cons kill bots, laughing at them when they begged for mercy! Chasing down anyone who tried to flee the city and tearing them apart! What did they ever do to you?!” Thundercracker and Skywarp gritted their denta, fighting to hold on to the mech’s arms. Starscream cast about for options in desperation, before digging his fingers under the purple symbol on his plating, tearing it from his armour with a stifled hiss of pain.
“Look, I’m not a ‘Con, see? No faction symbol! Look at me. Stop thrashing so you don’t offline yourself.” The other two mechs stared at the seeker, optics wide in disbelief. Amazingly, they felt the mech calm down, air intakes panting raggedly, and they relaxed their grip on him.
“Not a ‘Con?” The words were slightly slurred, and the seekers suddenly realised that the mech’s struggles had caused energon to flow from only Primus knew where, under the wreckage that still held him down.
“Not a ‘Con, keep talking, look at me.”
“Scared.”
“It’s alright. We’ll get you out.”
“Hurts.”
Thundercracker could see the other seeker bite back his first, harsher response to soothe the mech.
“I know, but you have to stay online, focus on me. We need you to stay with us, alright?”
“‘kay…”
Quietly, insistently, Starscream talked on, keeping the mech awake as the other seekers started trying to budge more rubble to get at what wounds they could. As Skywarp shifted forward to pry at something in front of their trapped mech, the grey bot cried out again, optics fixed on the insignia on his plating. Cursing his faction, Skywarp scrabbled at the mark with a piece of metal, disfiguring it enough so that it was indistinguishable, and the mech calmed once more.
It was then that someone else joined them.
= = =
The three seekers started as a thick cloud of smoke blanketed the area, blinding them and somehow befuddling their sensors. A form, indistinct amongst the haze and shadows, appeared to materialise in brief flashes, striking out at them as they stumbled about, and then fading into the miasma once more. With some alarm, they realised that their motor systems had been immobilised.
“What the frag is this?!”
“Hey, let us go!”
Thundercracker remained silent, watching carefully as the fog slowly dispersed, revealing a pair of mechs on either side of the trapped one. His optics widened, and at the edge of his vision he saw Starscream’s stunned expression, and Skywarp’s vaguely confused apprehension.
Both had the same type of chevroned helm as the trapped mech.
Both shared a frame type, one that matched what little they’d uncovered of the other bot, with sensor panels sweeping from their shoulders, much like he suddenly suspected the grey mech between them had, under all that rubble.
Standing in front of them, body language wary and defensive, were the Autobots’ best diversionary tactician, and the Second in Command of the whole fragging Autobot army.
And he knew, without a doubt, as impossible as it seemed, that they were this mech’s trinemates.