Seeker Mechs and Femmes [Part 1]
Apr. 14th, 2009 12:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceThe initial plot was crack. Looking at it now, I'm not so sure anymore...
Title: Seeker Mechs and Femmes [Part 1]
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
It was a well known fact (as well known was that there were mechs and femmes) that there were two varieties of seeker, split along the flying and non-flying, each populating a city of their own.
Lesser known was that in contrast to most divisions along, for lack of a better word, species, was that all flight capable seekers were of a single type.
Femme.
And the same was true of their ground bound kin, with those particular bots being all mechs.
Now, on Earth, the young-bearing members of the animal kingdom tend to be smaller, more drab, and less prone to violence. The case is not so for Cybertronian seekers.
Which brings us to the pertinent point of our story.
Every several thousand vorns, the directive to replicate would be triggered amongst the fliers, and while pairing off with a non-seeker was possible, the overweening preference was for a mech of their kind.
Unfortunately, the ground bound seekers had their city decimated early in the war, scattering its members all over Cybertron and the surrounding regions of space.
Well. You see where we’re heading with this.
= = =
Megatron glowered at the seeker in front of him, who was sneering back. The past few days had been chaotic, with every seeker in his army suddenly spoiling for a fight, in addition to jumping any and every mech that they took a fancy to (though he hadn’t much to complain about regarding the latter, except for perhaps feeling a little drained, not that he’d ever admit it). But eventually, he’d had enough and demanded a reason from the Air Commander.
Which he duly got.
“You mean to tell me that all the fighting is due to you seekers being in heat?”
“Yes.” Starscream ground out, arms crossed. “Nothing we can do but wait it out.”
“The seekers have fragged every mech on base multiple times over!”
“It doesn’t work like that. Interfacing reduces the urge, but unless we get it on with a mech seeker, getting with spark is the only way to end the cycle early. And there’s no fragging way any of us are going to resort to that.”
“Aren’t there mech seekers amongst your lot?!”
“There aren’t. Because you. Destroyed. Praxus.”
“You’re all femmes?!”
“And the ability to add one and one and get two finally joins the conversation! Yes! We’re all femmes, and we’re all going to be like this for a while! So suck it up and deal!”
= = =
Meanwhile, in the Ark, Prowl stared at a mech, expression half in dread and half resigned. Smokescreen sighed, nodding.
“We were in stasis for the last few, but my calculations indicate the next one will hit them in a few days, if it hasn’t already. I can’t predict how the ‘Con seekers will react for certain, since we don’t know if stasis made them skip the cycles or just suppressed the urge. Perhaps if we stay out of sight and in the Ark…”
The blue doorwinged mech trailed off, and the Autobot SIC buried his face in a white palm. “How long is this going to last?”
“… Two weeks. Maybe.”
“Primus help us. Does Bluestreak know?”
“I’m going to tell him in a moment. You get the task of informing Prime.” Smokescreen smirked, and Prowl glared.
“… Joy.”
= = =
Optimus Prime could only gape at his Second, and be thankful that his battlemask hid the undignified expression. Prowl already looked like he wanted to sink through the ground in mortification. After a long, awkward pause, the large mech could only shake his head in disbelief.
“Slag.”
“Quite, sir.”
“Shift yourself, Smokescreen and Bluestreak to non-active duty. Under no circumstances are any of you three to be outside of the Ark without a non-seeker accompanying you. Does Red Alert know?”
“I will be notifying him as soon as I’m done here.”
= = =
The Autobots knew something was up. All three doorwinged mechs had been tense and jumpy for quite some time. Bluestreak was quiet, Smokescreen wasn’t volunteering odds on anything, and Prowl was chevron deep in work. While the last was not unusual, the fact that the other two Datsuns were helping him was.
Even stranger was that all three had been taken off the battle roster when none of them were obviously injured.
Whispers started. The Datsuns were afflicted with a deadly virus, or one or all of them were fatally injured and slowly dying and were trying to hide it right now, or they’d come across some horrible fact that they weren’t telling the rest of the Autobots.
It got to the point where Sideswipe and Sunstreaker cornered Bluestreak to try and get an answer from him, only to be sent to the brig for their troubles when the gunner commed Prowl and Smokescreen for help.
Finally, Optimus Prime had to order his mechs to stay away from the three, giving them a very pared down version of the reason why the Datsuns were confined to the Ark.
Ratchet could be heard bitching about the number of processors he had to reboot from the other side of the base from the med bay after that.
= = =
“I’m bored.”
“Deal with it, Skywarp. We can’t go back to the base until Megatron’s done with his snit.” Thundercracker drawled as the three seekers soared aimlessly across some featureless terrain. The black and purple seeker protested.
“Well, if Ramjet and Thrust hadn’t gotten into that fight with Motormaster-”
“You would have picked it and gotten us kicked out anyway.” Snarked Starscream.
“Shut up.”
The blue seeker cut in with a sigh and a diversion. “Look, there’s Autobots.”
“What are the fraggers doing out here?” Starscream transformed, hovering in mid air as the Decepticon Air Commander angled for a better look. Skywarp did the same and shrugged.
“Dunno. Don’t care. He’s target practice.”
= = =
Smokescreen cursed as he swerved to avoid another barrage of weapons fire. He’d been dragged out by Hound and Cliffjumper on the basis that he was going crazy, cooped up in the Ark. After a few circuits about this deserted plain, he’d been about to agree that he had needed the activity, when the seekers struck.
Cliffjumper had been hit, badly, and Hound was occupied with keeping him online. Smokescreen was trying to help, but unless he transformed, his usefulness was limited to contacting the Ark and trying to draw the fliers away.
And he didn’t know if he dared do so. His root mode was a dead giveaway.
Hound cried out, and the diversionary mech raced towards him.
“Are you alright?”
“… Yeah. Just grazed. Think they’re toying with us. Backup?”
“On its way. Frag, it doesn’t look good. Put up a hologram and hide us for a bit.”
The Jeep did so, shielding them from view as Smokescreen shifted to mech form. “Great, I’m going to smoke us, keep it up while we run.”
The Datsun shouldered Cliffjumper’s inert form, and the pair of them legged it under the cover of Smokescreen’s obscuring haze and Hound’s holograms, hopefully losing the seekers when they settled down again.
“Smokey, I’m draining fast.”
“Hold on, I’ll patch you up.”
“Not that. Holos take it out of me, can’t keep it up for very much longer. Shift and get away, you’re still unhurt.”
“Not leaving you two. Neither of you can carry a blaster, much less hit a seeker.”
“They’ll see you!”
“… I know.”
= = =
When the hologram failed, the seekers were ready. They streaked forward, eager to attack once more, then nearly fell out of the sky when they saw the mech positioned over the two fallen Autobots. Gaze steady and unyielding, the blue mech hefted a blaster in their direction and sent a succession of shots their way.
But what garnered their attention, even as they rolled to avoid being hit, were the mech’s doorwings, spread defiantly and protectively over his comrades.
As more Autobots arrived, tipping the numbers in their disfavour, the seekers retreated back to their base, processors churning with implications.
= = =
“Starscream.”
“I know.”
Thundercracker paced the platform as it descended into the Decepticon base, thinking out loud. “There’s more than one of them. Their head tactician’s from Praxus too.”
“And there’s that chatty gunner of theirs.” Skywarp added. “Dunno why we didn’t remember it sooner. We can get this fixed right now.”
“Get what fixed?”
All three turned to see Megatron eyeing them with a frown. Biting back a curse, the Air Commander quickly explained, and growled at the considering light in the warleader’s optics.
“So, if we went out and captured these three Autobots, the seekers would stop this… nonsense.”
“You’d have to do it without our help then.”
“Starscream…” At the gunformer’s threatening growl, the flier snapped back.
“Use your processors for a moment, Megatron. If we took them by force, Optimus Prime would fragging annihilate us. We’d be better off sitting in our quarters and waiting this out.”
“So we use blackmail. If he doesn’t 'loan' us the mechs, I send every seeker I have to take out their… frustrations,” and here the grey mech smirked, “on the humans.”
As Megatron strode off to make the transmission, Starscream looked at the other two seekers with a solemn expression. They nodded, and all three went to send a message of their own.
= = =
Optimus sighed, leaning back in his seat, gazing at the recorded message from the Decepticon leader with troubled optics. Standing beside him, he knew his SIC was waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, but for the life of him, the Prime couldn’t think of a suitable response.
“Sir-”
“We’re not sending you three over!” The Autobot commander exclaimed, desperately willing the tactician to believe him. Prowl only shuttered his optics briefly in surprise at the outburst, then smiled and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I know you’d never, sir. But there’s another message, from Starscream. Blaster received it right after Megatron’s, and he transmitted it to me.”
“What does it say?”
“If the lead trine, that is, Starscream’s, is sated, they can better exert a calming influence on the seekers around them. I’m willing to-”
“No, Prowl. I can’t ask you to do this.”
“Sir, it would be expedient-” Again the Datsun was cut off by the Prime.
“I refuse to… to whore out the mechs under my command!”
“Optimus.” Something in Prowl’s voice made him look up at the mech. The tactician met his gaze with an understanding look. “Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp know that to force compliance with this particular demand of Megatron’s would be folly. Thus, they have offered to pay court, their trine to Smokescreen, Bluestreak and I. If we choose not to interface with them after that, they will honour that and keep away until the heat cycle ends.”
“What of the other seekers?”
“Under the influence of the heat cycle, it will be difficult for them to control the other seekers. But they have offered to try harder than they currently have been if we allow them to make this attempt.”
“Primus.”
“I am willing to accept this, Optimus. If Smokescreen and Bluestreak refuse, I will make the offer to take their place.”
“Prowl.” The SIC’s name was said with a resigned sigh.
“Yes sir?”
“Promise me that whatever happens, it will not be solely because of duty.” The hand on the Prime’s shoulder tightened its grip briefly.
“I promise, Optimus.”
Title: Seeker Mechs and Femmes [Part 1]
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
It was a well known fact (as well known was that there were mechs and femmes) that there were two varieties of seeker, split along the flying and non-flying, each populating a city of their own.
Lesser known was that in contrast to most divisions along, for lack of a better word, species, was that all flight capable seekers were of a single type.
Femme.
And the same was true of their ground bound kin, with those particular bots being all mechs.
Now, on Earth, the young-bearing members of the animal kingdom tend to be smaller, more drab, and less prone to violence. The case is not so for Cybertronian seekers.
Which brings us to the pertinent point of our story.
Every several thousand vorns, the directive to replicate would be triggered amongst the fliers, and while pairing off with a non-seeker was possible, the overweening preference was for a mech of their kind.
Unfortunately, the ground bound seekers had their city decimated early in the war, scattering its members all over Cybertron and the surrounding regions of space.
Well. You see where we’re heading with this.
= = =
Megatron glowered at the seeker in front of him, who was sneering back. The past few days had been chaotic, with every seeker in his army suddenly spoiling for a fight, in addition to jumping any and every mech that they took a fancy to (though he hadn’t much to complain about regarding the latter, except for perhaps feeling a little drained, not that he’d ever admit it). But eventually, he’d had enough and demanded a reason from the Air Commander.
Which he duly got.
“You mean to tell me that all the fighting is due to you seekers being in heat?”
“Yes.” Starscream ground out, arms crossed. “Nothing we can do but wait it out.”
“The seekers have fragged every mech on base multiple times over!”
“It doesn’t work like that. Interfacing reduces the urge, but unless we get it on with a mech seeker, getting with spark is the only way to end the cycle early. And there’s no fragging way any of us are going to resort to that.”
“Aren’t there mech seekers amongst your lot?!”
“There aren’t. Because you. Destroyed. Praxus.”
“You’re all femmes?!”
“And the ability to add one and one and get two finally joins the conversation! Yes! We’re all femmes, and we’re all going to be like this for a while! So suck it up and deal!”
= = =
Meanwhile, in the Ark, Prowl stared at a mech, expression half in dread and half resigned. Smokescreen sighed, nodding.
“We were in stasis for the last few, but my calculations indicate the next one will hit them in a few days, if it hasn’t already. I can’t predict how the ‘Con seekers will react for certain, since we don’t know if stasis made them skip the cycles or just suppressed the urge. Perhaps if we stay out of sight and in the Ark…”
The blue doorwinged mech trailed off, and the Autobot SIC buried his face in a white palm. “How long is this going to last?”
“… Two weeks. Maybe.”
“Primus help us. Does Bluestreak know?”
“I’m going to tell him in a moment. You get the task of informing Prime.” Smokescreen smirked, and Prowl glared.
“… Joy.”
= = =
Optimus Prime could only gape at his Second, and be thankful that his battlemask hid the undignified expression. Prowl already looked like he wanted to sink through the ground in mortification. After a long, awkward pause, the large mech could only shake his head in disbelief.
“Slag.”
“Quite, sir.”
“Shift yourself, Smokescreen and Bluestreak to non-active duty. Under no circumstances are any of you three to be outside of the Ark without a non-seeker accompanying you. Does Red Alert know?”
“I will be notifying him as soon as I’m done here.”
= = =
The Autobots knew something was up. All three doorwinged mechs had been tense and jumpy for quite some time. Bluestreak was quiet, Smokescreen wasn’t volunteering odds on anything, and Prowl was chevron deep in work. While the last was not unusual, the fact that the other two Datsuns were helping him was.
Even stranger was that all three had been taken off the battle roster when none of them were obviously injured.
Whispers started. The Datsuns were afflicted with a deadly virus, or one or all of them were fatally injured and slowly dying and were trying to hide it right now, or they’d come across some horrible fact that they weren’t telling the rest of the Autobots.
It got to the point where Sideswipe and Sunstreaker cornered Bluestreak to try and get an answer from him, only to be sent to the brig for their troubles when the gunner commed Prowl and Smokescreen for help.
Finally, Optimus Prime had to order his mechs to stay away from the three, giving them a very pared down version of the reason why the Datsuns were confined to the Ark.
Ratchet could be heard bitching about the number of processors he had to reboot from the other side of the base from the med bay after that.
= = =
“I’m bored.”
“Deal with it, Skywarp. We can’t go back to the base until Megatron’s done with his snit.” Thundercracker drawled as the three seekers soared aimlessly across some featureless terrain. The black and purple seeker protested.
“Well, if Ramjet and Thrust hadn’t gotten into that fight with Motormaster-”
“You would have picked it and gotten us kicked out anyway.” Snarked Starscream.
“Shut up.”
The blue seeker cut in with a sigh and a diversion. “Look, there’s Autobots.”
“What are the fraggers doing out here?” Starscream transformed, hovering in mid air as the Decepticon Air Commander angled for a better look. Skywarp did the same and shrugged.
“Dunno. Don’t care. He’s target practice.”
= = =
Smokescreen cursed as he swerved to avoid another barrage of weapons fire. He’d been dragged out by Hound and Cliffjumper on the basis that he was going crazy, cooped up in the Ark. After a few circuits about this deserted plain, he’d been about to agree that he had needed the activity, when the seekers struck.
Cliffjumper had been hit, badly, and Hound was occupied with keeping him online. Smokescreen was trying to help, but unless he transformed, his usefulness was limited to contacting the Ark and trying to draw the fliers away.
And he didn’t know if he dared do so. His root mode was a dead giveaway.
Hound cried out, and the diversionary mech raced towards him.
“Are you alright?”
“… Yeah. Just grazed. Think they’re toying with us. Backup?”
“On its way. Frag, it doesn’t look good. Put up a hologram and hide us for a bit.”
The Jeep did so, shielding them from view as Smokescreen shifted to mech form. “Great, I’m going to smoke us, keep it up while we run.”
The Datsun shouldered Cliffjumper’s inert form, and the pair of them legged it under the cover of Smokescreen’s obscuring haze and Hound’s holograms, hopefully losing the seekers when they settled down again.
“Smokey, I’m draining fast.”
“Hold on, I’ll patch you up.”
“Not that. Holos take it out of me, can’t keep it up for very much longer. Shift and get away, you’re still unhurt.”
“Not leaving you two. Neither of you can carry a blaster, much less hit a seeker.”
“They’ll see you!”
“… I know.”
= = =
When the hologram failed, the seekers were ready. They streaked forward, eager to attack once more, then nearly fell out of the sky when they saw the mech positioned over the two fallen Autobots. Gaze steady and unyielding, the blue mech hefted a blaster in their direction and sent a succession of shots their way.
But what garnered their attention, even as they rolled to avoid being hit, were the mech’s doorwings, spread defiantly and protectively over his comrades.
As more Autobots arrived, tipping the numbers in their disfavour, the seekers retreated back to their base, processors churning with implications.
= = =
“Starscream.”
“I know.”
Thundercracker paced the platform as it descended into the Decepticon base, thinking out loud. “There’s more than one of them. Their head tactician’s from Praxus too.”
“And there’s that chatty gunner of theirs.” Skywarp added. “Dunno why we didn’t remember it sooner. We can get this fixed right now.”
“Get what fixed?”
All three turned to see Megatron eyeing them with a frown. Biting back a curse, the Air Commander quickly explained, and growled at the considering light in the warleader’s optics.
“So, if we went out and captured these three Autobots, the seekers would stop this… nonsense.”
“You’d have to do it without our help then.”
“Starscream…” At the gunformer’s threatening growl, the flier snapped back.
“Use your processors for a moment, Megatron. If we took them by force, Optimus Prime would fragging annihilate us. We’d be better off sitting in our quarters and waiting this out.”
“So we use blackmail. If he doesn’t 'loan' us the mechs, I send every seeker I have to take out their… frustrations,” and here the grey mech smirked, “on the humans.”
As Megatron strode off to make the transmission, Starscream looked at the other two seekers with a solemn expression. They nodded, and all three went to send a message of their own.
= = =
Optimus sighed, leaning back in his seat, gazing at the recorded message from the Decepticon leader with troubled optics. Standing beside him, he knew his SIC was waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, but for the life of him, the Prime couldn’t think of a suitable response.
“Sir-”
“We’re not sending you three over!” The Autobot commander exclaimed, desperately willing the tactician to believe him. Prowl only shuttered his optics briefly in surprise at the outburst, then smiled and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I know you’d never, sir. But there’s another message, from Starscream. Blaster received it right after Megatron’s, and he transmitted it to me.”
“What does it say?”
“If the lead trine, that is, Starscream’s, is sated, they can better exert a calming influence on the seekers around them. I’m willing to-”
“No, Prowl. I can’t ask you to do this.”
“Sir, it would be expedient-” Again the Datsun was cut off by the Prime.
“I refuse to… to whore out the mechs under my command!”
“Optimus.” Something in Prowl’s voice made him look up at the mech. The tactician met his gaze with an understanding look. “Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp know that to force compliance with this particular demand of Megatron’s would be folly. Thus, they have offered to pay court, their trine to Smokescreen, Bluestreak and I. If we choose not to interface with them after that, they will honour that and keep away until the heat cycle ends.”
“What of the other seekers?”
“Under the influence of the heat cycle, it will be difficult for them to control the other seekers. But they have offered to try harder than they currently have been if we allow them to make this attempt.”
“Primus.”
“I am willing to accept this, Optimus. If Smokescreen and Bluestreak refuse, I will make the offer to take their place.”
“Prowl.” The SIC’s name was said with a resigned sigh.
“Yes sir?”
“Promise me that whatever happens, it will not be solely because of duty.” The hand on the Prime’s shoulder tightened its grip briefly.
“I promise, Optimus.”
