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Flightless!fic part 2
*sigh* Bunny, I only have a linear brain. Do remember that.
Title: ((Still being figured out, heard some good ideas though, many thanks ^_^ ))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
“… You don’t look like seekers…”
“Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. I’m sure none of us realised that.”
“Oh, mute it.”
Thundercracker briefly wondered why Primus felt like toying with him today.
“Smokescreen, Prowl?”
The black and white mech turned away from them at the shaky query, silently moving to check over his… trinemate (Thundercracker still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing), running a comforting hand over the grey one’s helm, leaving his back to the other mech and the three fliers. He withdrew an emergency repair kit, unerringly seeking out and patching the mech’s wounds, clearly guided by more than optics and scanners.
Smokescreen still stood between the two Autobots and the seekers, arms crossed, missile launchers deployed, and sensor panels unconsciously flared in a protective manner, partially blocking his comrades from the seekers’ view, and Thundercracker realised that he was the leader of the ‘trine’. Evidently, the others did so too, prompting Starscream to ask the question.
“Wait… Doesn’t he outrank you?”
The blue mech smirked. “Yeah. So?”
“… ‘Flightless’…”
Thank Primus, he could move once more. Being immobilised grated on him like nothing else, as it would have any other seeker. Thundercracker looked in Skywarp’s direction.
“What?”
“They’re ‘flightless’.” Starscream was staring at Skywarp as well. The purple mech appeared uneasy, wary of the three Autobots, and not just because two of them were highly skilled fighters, and the third, though injured and trapped, was not likely to be any less able under normal conditions. The blue flier questioned Skywarp again.
“What are you talking about? Only seekers can be ‘flightless’.”
“Then explain how they act like seekers, sound like seekers and fall into trine patterns like seekers, but can’t fly. What else could they be?”
“You know, you could just ask the mech standing there, instead of dithering over it.”
“Go bury yourself.”
Immediately, two hands cuffed Skywarp upside the helm, and Thundercracker’s apologetic look was waved off by Smokescreen before the diversionary tactician eyed his faction symbol, the only one still intact, and inquired, tone frosty and stance still somewhat intimidating.
“You do realise how this looks, a Decepticon seeker trine amongst the ruins of a ‘Con razed city, with an injured Autobot. Tell me, why shouldn’t I terminate you right now?”
“You haven’t yet, and we were helpless until a breem ago.” Thundercracker pointed out. “If Skywarp is correct and you really are of the flightless, that would mean you follow some of the seeker code, at the very least. I ask that you hear us out first.”
Smokescreen didn’t respond verbally, merely nodding sharply, and the blue flier continued.
“We’re from different trines, all in the initial stage. Only the fully fledged carry out aerial attacks. We heard a distress call and responded, found your mech buried and were trying to help. I swear, on my spark and on my wings, that’s all we were doing here.”
The Autobots before him relaxed, barely. Blue sensor panels flicked, still suspicious, while black and white ones dipped consideringly before Prowl faced the seekers again, finished with his trinemate’s repairs for now. He took up the line of questioning, and the seekers startled to hear seeker inflections in the mech’s words.
“Then, if you profess to have no part in the destruction of Praxus, why were you near enough to hear Bluestreak?”
Starscream answered this time, casting a quick glance at the grey mech. “Training. We were to observe the attack and the aftermath, and learn what we might from it.”
Smokescreen’s sensor panels immediately drew back sharply, and Prowl’s stilled completely. The seekers’ wings also drew back in caution as the Autobot SIC’s faceplates went blank and unreadable, and the blue mech visibly bit back a snarl.
“I should have expected nothing less. What I want to know is why three skyborn would bother to aid a flightless.”
The seekers flinched at the derisive manner with which Smokescreen spat out the term, so often used amongst their kin as a term of prestige, to distinguish themselves from all other frame types. Starscream snapped, red optics glowing angrily. “Why wouldn’t we help our own? Flightless or not, the code places wing kin above faction, and the call was coming from what sounded like a seeker. How the frag you three can copy our dialect and patterns I can’t quite figure.”
Smokescreen cut him off with a harsh laugh. “Ask the purple one there, he seems the most familiar with the situation.”
Skywarp shifted under their sudden regard, and spoke quickly. “The ‘flightless’ are seekers sparked glitched beyond repair. They offline early, few make it past sparklinghood and into flight capable frames, hence the name. At least, that’s what my wing leader told me. If they are flightless seekers, I don’t know how these mechs did it, or why they chose these frames instead of flight capable ones.”
“Why, we must live up to our moniker, mustn’t we? The flightless aren’t supposed to be able to fly.”
“Smokescreen.” The seekers were grateful for Prowl’s interruption and quelling tone. The diversionary mech subsided, turning away with a huff of the air intakes to redirect his focus on Bluestreak, offering the mech an emergency ration to replace his lost energon. The black and white SIC scanned the fliers, gaze impenetrable.
“Thank you for helping Bluestreak.” He said at last. “We have no quarrel with you. I suggest you be on your way, our comrades will be here soon.”
“Not soon enough though.”
= = =
Six more seekers, all bearing the Decepticon symbol, landed amongst them. The Autobots were immediately pressed against each other, weapons at the ready. Two each of the newcomers went to Thundercracker, Starscream and Skywarp, and it was the former scientist who made the demand.
“What the frag are you glitches doing here?”
“I could ask you the same, slag circuits. The wing leader sent us to find our ‘no good, whiny, insubordinate fragger of a trinemate’ and drag him back if need be.”
“The only dragging you’ll do is of your afts, after they get sent to the Pit, courtesy of my pede!”
“We’ll see about that!”
While Starscream argued with his trine, Thundercracker eyed his own team mates. Arms crossed over the light blue plating and yellow glass of his upper torso, Drench was the first of them to speak.
“Disregarding orders, ‘Cracker? It’s not like you.”
“Since when do orders supersede the code?”
“Dunno if you checked your optics recently, but that there aren’t seekers.”
“But they are!” Skywarp (currently being ignored by his trine in favour of keeping a guard on the Autobots) burst out, and while the purple jet’s wingmates still paid no attention to him, Thundercracker’s did.
“Apparently, you need a checkup too. You have any idea who these mechs are? We bring them in, and fledged or not, we’re set for life in Megatron’s good graces.”
Thundercracker broke in quietly. “They’re seekers, Dirge. Flightless, to be exact.”
The other seeker stared at him. He flicked his wings in a shrug and Dirge stared some more. “… Right.”
“Who cares? Shoot them already!” That was Sunstorm, one of Starscream’s trine, striding over in a foul mood after having his plating verbally stripped off by the seeker.
“They. Are. Seekers. Wing kin.” Starscream ground out behind him, and Sunstorm cycled air contemptuously.
“If they can’t fly, then they aren’t worthy of being our kin.” Starscream’s other wingmate, an acid green seeker, joined Sunstorm up front. Thundercracker watched his trine waver, torn between orders and the unbelievable chance they’d just been handed, and the seeker code, before caving, drawing their weapons almost reluctantly. Skywarp’s wing mates had no such problems. Ramjet snarled at them.
“What, are you scared? Come on, it’ll be nine against three, and one of them is pinned.”
Starscream locked gazes with Skywarp and Thundercracker, intent clear as if they were linked already, and all three also called up their weaponry.
Then, they darted to stand between the Autobots and their trinemates, grim expressions on their faceplates as Thundercracker reached for his faction symbol, and in a single fluid movement, tore it from his plating to drop it on the ground.
“Correction. It’s six on six now.”
Title: ((Still being figured out, heard some good ideas though, many thanks ^_^ ))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
“… You don’t look like seekers…”
“Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. I’m sure none of us realised that.”
“Oh, mute it.”
Thundercracker briefly wondered why Primus felt like toying with him today.
“Smokescreen, Prowl?”
The black and white mech turned away from them at the shaky query, silently moving to check over his… trinemate (Thundercracker still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing), running a comforting hand over the grey one’s helm, leaving his back to the other mech and the three fliers. He withdrew an emergency repair kit, unerringly seeking out and patching the mech’s wounds, clearly guided by more than optics and scanners.
Smokescreen still stood between the two Autobots and the seekers, arms crossed, missile launchers deployed, and sensor panels unconsciously flared in a protective manner, partially blocking his comrades from the seekers’ view, and Thundercracker realised that he was the leader of the ‘trine’. Evidently, the others did so too, prompting Starscream to ask the question.
“Wait… Doesn’t he outrank you?”
The blue mech smirked. “Yeah. So?”
“… ‘Flightless’…”
Thank Primus, he could move once more. Being immobilised grated on him like nothing else, as it would have any other seeker. Thundercracker looked in Skywarp’s direction.
“What?”
“They’re ‘flightless’.” Starscream was staring at Skywarp as well. The purple mech appeared uneasy, wary of the three Autobots, and not just because two of them were highly skilled fighters, and the third, though injured and trapped, was not likely to be any less able under normal conditions. The blue flier questioned Skywarp again.
“What are you talking about? Only seekers can be ‘flightless’.”
“Then explain how they act like seekers, sound like seekers and fall into trine patterns like seekers, but can’t fly. What else could they be?”
“You know, you could just ask the mech standing there, instead of dithering over it.”
“Go bury yourself.”
Immediately, two hands cuffed Skywarp upside the helm, and Thundercracker’s apologetic look was waved off by Smokescreen before the diversionary tactician eyed his faction symbol, the only one still intact, and inquired, tone frosty and stance still somewhat intimidating.
“You do realise how this looks, a Decepticon seeker trine amongst the ruins of a ‘Con razed city, with an injured Autobot. Tell me, why shouldn’t I terminate you right now?”
“You haven’t yet, and we were helpless until a breem ago.” Thundercracker pointed out. “If Skywarp is correct and you really are of the flightless, that would mean you follow some of the seeker code, at the very least. I ask that you hear us out first.”
Smokescreen didn’t respond verbally, merely nodding sharply, and the blue flier continued.
“We’re from different trines, all in the initial stage. Only the fully fledged carry out aerial attacks. We heard a distress call and responded, found your mech buried and were trying to help. I swear, on my spark and on my wings, that’s all we were doing here.”
The Autobots before him relaxed, barely. Blue sensor panels flicked, still suspicious, while black and white ones dipped consideringly before Prowl faced the seekers again, finished with his trinemate’s repairs for now. He took up the line of questioning, and the seekers startled to hear seeker inflections in the mech’s words.
“Then, if you profess to have no part in the destruction of Praxus, why were you near enough to hear Bluestreak?”
Starscream answered this time, casting a quick glance at the grey mech. “Training. We were to observe the attack and the aftermath, and learn what we might from it.”
Smokescreen’s sensor panels immediately drew back sharply, and Prowl’s stilled completely. The seekers’ wings also drew back in caution as the Autobot SIC’s faceplates went blank and unreadable, and the blue mech visibly bit back a snarl.
“I should have expected nothing less. What I want to know is why three skyborn would bother to aid a flightless.”
The seekers flinched at the derisive manner with which Smokescreen spat out the term, so often used amongst their kin as a term of prestige, to distinguish themselves from all other frame types. Starscream snapped, red optics glowing angrily. “Why wouldn’t we help our own? Flightless or not, the code places wing kin above faction, and the call was coming from what sounded like a seeker. How the frag you three can copy our dialect and patterns I can’t quite figure.”
Smokescreen cut him off with a harsh laugh. “Ask the purple one there, he seems the most familiar with the situation.”
Skywarp shifted under their sudden regard, and spoke quickly. “The ‘flightless’ are seekers sparked glitched beyond repair. They offline early, few make it past sparklinghood and into flight capable frames, hence the name. At least, that’s what my wing leader told me. If they are flightless seekers, I don’t know how these mechs did it, or why they chose these frames instead of flight capable ones.”
“Why, we must live up to our moniker, mustn’t we? The flightless aren’t supposed to be able to fly.”
“Smokescreen.” The seekers were grateful for Prowl’s interruption and quelling tone. The diversionary mech subsided, turning away with a huff of the air intakes to redirect his focus on Bluestreak, offering the mech an emergency ration to replace his lost energon. The black and white SIC scanned the fliers, gaze impenetrable.
“Thank you for helping Bluestreak.” He said at last. “We have no quarrel with you. I suggest you be on your way, our comrades will be here soon.”
“Not soon enough though.”
= = =
Six more seekers, all bearing the Decepticon symbol, landed amongst them. The Autobots were immediately pressed against each other, weapons at the ready. Two each of the newcomers went to Thundercracker, Starscream and Skywarp, and it was the former scientist who made the demand.
“What the frag are you glitches doing here?”
“I could ask you the same, slag circuits. The wing leader sent us to find our ‘no good, whiny, insubordinate fragger of a trinemate’ and drag him back if need be.”
“The only dragging you’ll do is of your afts, after they get sent to the Pit, courtesy of my pede!”
“We’ll see about that!”
While Starscream argued with his trine, Thundercracker eyed his own team mates. Arms crossed over the light blue plating and yellow glass of his upper torso, Drench was the first of them to speak.
“Disregarding orders, ‘Cracker? It’s not like you.”
“Since when do orders supersede the code?”
“Dunno if you checked your optics recently, but that there aren’t seekers.”
“But they are!” Skywarp (currently being ignored by his trine in favour of keeping a guard on the Autobots) burst out, and while the purple jet’s wingmates still paid no attention to him, Thundercracker’s did.
“Apparently, you need a checkup too. You have any idea who these mechs are? We bring them in, and fledged or not, we’re set for life in Megatron’s good graces.”
Thundercracker broke in quietly. “They’re seekers, Dirge. Flightless, to be exact.”
The other seeker stared at him. He flicked his wings in a shrug and Dirge stared some more. “… Right.”
“Who cares? Shoot them already!” That was Sunstorm, one of Starscream’s trine, striding over in a foul mood after having his plating verbally stripped off by the seeker.
“They. Are. Seekers. Wing kin.” Starscream ground out behind him, and Sunstorm cycled air contemptuously.
“If they can’t fly, then they aren’t worthy of being our kin.” Starscream’s other wingmate, an acid green seeker, joined Sunstorm up front. Thundercracker watched his trine waver, torn between orders and the unbelievable chance they’d just been handed, and the seeker code, before caving, drawing their weapons almost reluctantly. Skywarp’s wing mates had no such problems. Ramjet snarled at them.
“What, are you scared? Come on, it’ll be nine against three, and one of them is pinned.”
Starscream locked gazes with Skywarp and Thundercracker, intent clear as if they were linked already, and all three also called up their weaponry.
Then, they darted to stand between the Autobots and their trinemates, grim expressions on their faceplates as Thundercracker reached for his faction symbol, and in a single fluid movement, tore it from his plating to drop it on the ground.
“Correction. It’s six on six now.”