Flightless!fic, part 4
Feb. 8th, 2009 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: ((Imma put up some sort of poll for a title, maybe. *indecisive Ante is indecisive*))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
They fought well together.
That was the first thought Starscream had after the first rush of battle had passed and their opponents (looking a lot more damaged than they did, to his great satisfaction) were regrouping on the other side of their little area. Dirge was offline, a mercy, really. The mech had been completely scared out of his processor once he lost control of his descent.
The seeker considered his current team mates. For three seekers who’d been hastily chucked together with nothing more than an introduction, they had done well against their trines.
Skywarp demonstrated the ability for which he was named, vanishing and reappearing on the field to dodge and strike and occasionally take one of their opponents off guard, easing the pressure on whoever needed the help. Thundercracker, up in the air, ducked shots with ease and strafed the ground in short passes, providing cover fire. And he directed them as needed, which was not often (something which pleased him, it was good to fight alongside mechs with functioning processors).
The Autobots did okay too, he guessed. But they’d probably been together as a group for much longer, and would be expected to have more experience with this kind of thing. He risked a glance behind him at the chevroned mechs, and noted that the grey one, Bluestreak, was a lot calmer and focused than he’d been with just the seekers trying to help. His trinemates must be stabilising him. The black and white was murmuring into a comm., talking to incoming Autobots, setting the rest of the seekers on edge. Sunstorm snarled at him.
“Wait ‘till Megatron hears of this. You’ll be stuck in the brigs so long, you’ll forget what your wings are for!”
He could feel the anger of his trine growing, and it was starting to affect him as well. Before he could stop himself, he sneered. “Who says I’m going back to the fragger?”
“You’re glitched. You don’t just quit the ‘Cons.”
Stupid. But there was no going back now, and truthfully, he really didn’t want to answer to a mech who would make seekers abandon the code so easily. He made a show of looking at the plating where a purple insignia used to be.
“Well now, look at that. No Decepticon symbol. Looks like I did.”
“Whatever, slagger. Go offline in a rust heap for all we care.”
“Same to you, fraggers.” He cut the link that connected him to them before they could, terminating it with a vengeance. The two seekers hissed, lunging at him only to be driven back by a warning shot from Bluestreak, perilously close to their helms. They then took off, blasting him with a scornful backwash of air and dust.
He sneered up at their rapidly diminishing backs, already feeling clarity (as well as some trepidation at being alone in his head now, as much as he’d disliked the two, one got used to company, no matter how inane) return to his processors.
Starscream would have to ask the Autobots (though his internals twisted at the idea of needing any help) how they circumvented trinemate influenced outbursts. Seekers were notoriously flighty and easily pushed off the deep end. A seeker trine with a badly injured, trapped member like Bluestreak might explode into an uncontrollable meltdown (would explode, he’d seen it happen, and to seekers with plenty of vorns online too), and it was to his best interests that he find out how to avoid such an occurrence. A frantic, panicky seeker was no use to his trinemates.
If he had trinemates.
He would have to ask.
“Thundercracker? Skywarp?”
“Hm?”
“Yeah?”
“I seem to have an opening for two seekers in my trine. Care to join?”
“Forget it, Starscream! Your trine may not want you, but you’re not taking my trinemate!”
“Ah, Ramjet, isn’t it? Weren’t you trying to kill him just now?”
“So? The only way you’ll get Skywarp is in pieces!”
“I am in pieces. There are bits of me hither and yon, and I think that’s some of my cockpit glass over there by your foot.”
“I think that’s mine, actually.” Thundercracker muttered, examining the shattered curve on his torso with carefully feigned nonchalance. Skywarp shrugged, wings twitching in amusement as Ramjet and Thrust glowered, engines at a low, menacing roar.
“Whatever. I’m in, ‘Screamer.” The teleporter replied, grinning a little too easily. His trinemates jerked visibly as their link to the purple jet died, then took off as well, not willing to stay with Autobot reinforcements on their way. Drench knelt by Dirge, bringing him back online, then glanced at his other trinemate, looking uncertain.
“You’re not coming with us.” Thundercracker sighed.
“I’m not.”
“We can’t be a trine with only two mechs, ‘Cracker.”
“Starscream and Skywarp’s groups both lost a member today. If you split up, you’ll both still have a trine.”
Drench made as if to say something more, but shook his head and took off, gripping Dirge’s arm. Both hovered a moment, and Thundercracker looked at them, expression blank. Dirge spoke at last.
“Fair winds and interesting skies to you, ‘Cracker. Don’t die too early.”
The blue jet nodded, sending one last message across their link before he too, broke it and they left.
~Winds and skies to you too.~
= = =
When he finally broke his gaze from the direction the last two seekers had taken, Starscream shot him a look.
“You could have gone with them.”
“The other four will be carrying tales back to Air Command. I’m dead as soon as I hit ‘Con airspace.”
“You’d have survived. They don’t look like the slagpiles me and Skywarp had. They’d have defended you, I think”
Thundercracker laughed. “I was meaning to ask about that. Dirge’s abilities were matched with mine in a way, and I got on well with Drench. But what possessed the both of you to pick those two?”
Skywarp huffed air distractedly, staring at their surroundings as if spooked. “First two seekers without a trine I ran into.”
Starscream followed the teleporter’s example, turning so that his back faced the purple jet’s. With a brief upward twitch of his lip plating, he replied. “You two were already taken.”
The seekers fell silent, mindful of Autobot optics boring holes through their plating and their rather precarious situation, factionless and of seeker make. Then Thundercracker turned to the dark faced mech again. “So, about this trine of yours… Still need a third?”
Starscream smirked.
= = =
Smokescreen turned to Prowl as the mech terminated communications with their backup. “So, who’s coming?”
“I requested for Windcharger and a medic.”
“And the rest of our backup?”
The black and white mech nodded, dipping a sensor panel in the direction of a shadowed recess. “Arrived during the fight. I asked that they not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”
The blue mech nodded, eyeing the gathering of seekers warily. While the three that had helped Bluestreak might be alright, and he stressed, might, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to trust them fully. But Prowl approved of his chariness, it was the lack of emotional control (which Prowl also understood, even as he was annoyed by it) brought on by the current situation that concerned the black and white. And the other six were unknowns. He’d been about to say ‘Frag it’ and stun the six, perhaps take them into custody or leave them, but Prowl had held him back.
Slowly, the jets withdrew, and Smokescreen exhaled from his intakes noisily, watching the three remaining jets converse (it sounded like they’d be forming a trine of their own). He didn’t know what reason the mech had, but accepted that Prowl was the longer term planner of the two, not he, for a reason.
“Why’d you let them go?”
His SIC had turned a faint smile and an affectionate thrum over their bond on him. “Something in the calculations hinted at something else, so I thought I’d take a gamble. Like you so often do.”
A stunned shuttering of optics, before Bluestreak sent amusement at him and he covered his face with a hand. “Pit, after all these vorns, I’ve corrupted you. The Prime will have my head.”
“I assure you, I won’t be making daytrips into Polyhex to blow every credit to my name.” Prowl murmured, prompting an aggravated look from the diversionary mech (he won a lot more than he lost, and his trine fragging knew it). “Now, go deal with the seekers, I’ll call our backup from their hidey hole.”
With a halfhearted grumble, and a judicious prod in the correct direction, Smokescreen approached the now wary fliers.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
They fought well together.
That was the first thought Starscream had after the first rush of battle had passed and their opponents (looking a lot more damaged than they did, to his great satisfaction) were regrouping on the other side of their little area. Dirge was offline, a mercy, really. The mech had been completely scared out of his processor once he lost control of his descent.
The seeker considered his current team mates. For three seekers who’d been hastily chucked together with nothing more than an introduction, they had done well against their trines.
Skywarp demonstrated the ability for which he was named, vanishing and reappearing on the field to dodge and strike and occasionally take one of their opponents off guard, easing the pressure on whoever needed the help. Thundercracker, up in the air, ducked shots with ease and strafed the ground in short passes, providing cover fire. And he directed them as needed, which was not often (something which pleased him, it was good to fight alongside mechs with functioning processors).
The Autobots did okay too, he guessed. But they’d probably been together as a group for much longer, and would be expected to have more experience with this kind of thing. He risked a glance behind him at the chevroned mechs, and noted that the grey one, Bluestreak, was a lot calmer and focused than he’d been with just the seekers trying to help. His trinemates must be stabilising him. The black and white was murmuring into a comm., talking to incoming Autobots, setting the rest of the seekers on edge. Sunstorm snarled at him.
“Wait ‘till Megatron hears of this. You’ll be stuck in the brigs so long, you’ll forget what your wings are for!”
He could feel the anger of his trine growing, and it was starting to affect him as well. Before he could stop himself, he sneered. “Who says I’m going back to the fragger?”
“You’re glitched. You don’t just quit the ‘Cons.”
Stupid. But there was no going back now, and truthfully, he really didn’t want to answer to a mech who would make seekers abandon the code so easily. He made a show of looking at the plating where a purple insignia used to be.
“Well now, look at that. No Decepticon symbol. Looks like I did.”
“Whatever, slagger. Go offline in a rust heap for all we care.”
“Same to you, fraggers.” He cut the link that connected him to them before they could, terminating it with a vengeance. The two seekers hissed, lunging at him only to be driven back by a warning shot from Bluestreak, perilously close to their helms. They then took off, blasting him with a scornful backwash of air and dust.
He sneered up at their rapidly diminishing backs, already feeling clarity (as well as some trepidation at being alone in his head now, as much as he’d disliked the two, one got used to company, no matter how inane) return to his processors.
Starscream would have to ask the Autobots (though his internals twisted at the idea of needing any help) how they circumvented trinemate influenced outbursts. Seekers were notoriously flighty and easily pushed off the deep end. A seeker trine with a badly injured, trapped member like Bluestreak might explode into an uncontrollable meltdown (would explode, he’d seen it happen, and to seekers with plenty of vorns online too), and it was to his best interests that he find out how to avoid such an occurrence. A frantic, panicky seeker was no use to his trinemates.
If he had trinemates.
He would have to ask.
“Thundercracker? Skywarp?”
“Hm?”
“Yeah?”
“I seem to have an opening for two seekers in my trine. Care to join?”
“Forget it, Starscream! Your trine may not want you, but you’re not taking my trinemate!”
“Ah, Ramjet, isn’t it? Weren’t you trying to kill him just now?”
“So? The only way you’ll get Skywarp is in pieces!”
“I am in pieces. There are bits of me hither and yon, and I think that’s some of my cockpit glass over there by your foot.”
“I think that’s mine, actually.” Thundercracker muttered, examining the shattered curve on his torso with carefully feigned nonchalance. Skywarp shrugged, wings twitching in amusement as Ramjet and Thrust glowered, engines at a low, menacing roar.
“Whatever. I’m in, ‘Screamer.” The teleporter replied, grinning a little too easily. His trinemates jerked visibly as their link to the purple jet died, then took off as well, not willing to stay with Autobot reinforcements on their way. Drench knelt by Dirge, bringing him back online, then glanced at his other trinemate, looking uncertain.
“You’re not coming with us.” Thundercracker sighed.
“I’m not.”
“We can’t be a trine with only two mechs, ‘Cracker.”
“Starscream and Skywarp’s groups both lost a member today. If you split up, you’ll both still have a trine.”
Drench made as if to say something more, but shook his head and took off, gripping Dirge’s arm. Both hovered a moment, and Thundercracker looked at them, expression blank. Dirge spoke at last.
“Fair winds and interesting skies to you, ‘Cracker. Don’t die too early.”
The blue jet nodded, sending one last message across their link before he too, broke it and they left.
~Winds and skies to you too.~
= = =
When he finally broke his gaze from the direction the last two seekers had taken, Starscream shot him a look.
“You could have gone with them.”
“The other four will be carrying tales back to Air Command. I’m dead as soon as I hit ‘Con airspace.”
“You’d have survived. They don’t look like the slagpiles me and Skywarp had. They’d have defended you, I think”
Thundercracker laughed. “I was meaning to ask about that. Dirge’s abilities were matched with mine in a way, and I got on well with Drench. But what possessed the both of you to pick those two?”
Skywarp huffed air distractedly, staring at their surroundings as if spooked. “First two seekers without a trine I ran into.”
Starscream followed the teleporter’s example, turning so that his back faced the purple jet’s. With a brief upward twitch of his lip plating, he replied. “You two were already taken.”
The seekers fell silent, mindful of Autobot optics boring holes through their plating and their rather precarious situation, factionless and of seeker make. Then Thundercracker turned to the dark faced mech again. “So, about this trine of yours… Still need a third?”
Starscream smirked.
= = =
Smokescreen turned to Prowl as the mech terminated communications with their backup. “So, who’s coming?”
“I requested for Windcharger and a medic.”
“And the rest of our backup?”
The black and white mech nodded, dipping a sensor panel in the direction of a shadowed recess. “Arrived during the fight. I asked that they not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”
The blue mech nodded, eyeing the gathering of seekers warily. While the three that had helped Bluestreak might be alright, and he stressed, might, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to trust them fully. But Prowl approved of his chariness, it was the lack of emotional control (which Prowl also understood, even as he was annoyed by it) brought on by the current situation that concerned the black and white. And the other six were unknowns. He’d been about to say ‘Frag it’ and stun the six, perhaps take them into custody or leave them, but Prowl had held him back.
Slowly, the jets withdrew, and Smokescreen exhaled from his intakes noisily, watching the three remaining jets converse (it sounded like they’d be forming a trine of their own). He didn’t know what reason the mech had, but accepted that Prowl was the longer term planner of the two, not he, for a reason.
“Why’d you let them go?”
His SIC had turned a faint smile and an affectionate thrum over their bond on him. “Something in the calculations hinted at something else, so I thought I’d take a gamble. Like you so often do.”
A stunned shuttering of optics, before Bluestreak sent amusement at him and he covered his face with a hand. “Pit, after all these vorns, I’ve corrupted you. The Prime will have my head.”
“I assure you, I won’t be making daytrips into Polyhex to blow every credit to my name.” Prowl murmured, prompting an aggravated look from the diversionary mech (he won a lot more than he lost, and his trine fragging knew it). “Now, go deal with the seekers, I’ll call our backup from their hidey hole.”
With a halfhearted grumble, and a judicious prod in the correct direction, Smokescreen approached the now wary fliers.
