Differentiation (Part 3)
Oct. 12th, 2009 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Differentiation (Part 3)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Smokescreen. Bluestreak. Hound. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
They started across the ruined city, Smokescreen in the lead, both Praxians occasionally stopping to confer with each other over their route. The tactician sketched out the safest paths based on what he knew of the terrain, and Bluestreak’s other self quietly pointed out where things had changed or how they would benefit from certain adjustments to their route. Several times his input came in useful, especially when one of the Ops mechs picked up traces of the Decepticons close by.
Finally, Jazz called a halt to their trek. “We need to set down for the rest of the cycle. S’getting dark, and we’ll risk of drawing unfriendly attention if we use our lights. We’ve been lucky so far, but let’s not push things.”
The two chevroned bots nodded, and the saboteur glanced about their surroundings before pointing at a decrepit looking building. “That looks like somewhere we can hide out for a while. C’mon.”
= = =
Jazz took first watch as the others settled in, Hound clearing the area of assorted wreckage while Smokescreen checked on the grey mech, concerned by the way one of his sensor panels was starting to droop unnaturally. Observing how the mech was frowning at a spot on the opposite wall, the tactician queried.
“Something wrong?”
“I am trying to come up with an explanation that Bluestreak would accept for being unconscious during our change in location. I do not wish to deceive him too much, he has troubles enough already.”
“Frag.”
“Smokescreen.”
“Yeah?”
“Bluestreak is waking again. And I have been online in some way or another ever since the Decepticons attacked the medical camp. I do not think I will be able to override him if he needs me this time.” The mech’s voice was faint, and he was leaning back against the wall, visibly drained. Smokescreen could almost see him fading away. Just then, the black and white mech re-entered their space, murmuring lowly.
“We got ‘Cons approaching. Best we keep it down in here.”
“ ‘Cons? But- … Where are we?” All three Autobots looked at Bluestreak, Jazz shooting Smokescreen a worried glance, the blue mech moving to calm the disoriented Praxian.
“Near the edge of the city. We had to move to get to the pick up point in time, Blue’.”
“Oh… Where’s Prowl? We didn’t say what we were going to do about him! Where is he?!”
At a complete loss, Smokescreen fumbled for an answer. “Prowl’s-”
“Outside.” Hound cut in, tone soothing as both Jazz and Smokescreen cast disbelieving looks at him. Bluestreak focused on the tracker, optics wide.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“It’s dangerous!”
“I know, that’s why we need to be quiet, or the ‘Cons will hear us.”
“… Okay.” Bluestreak did as told, curling up slightly. His next query was a little more controlled. “Hound?”
“Mmm?”
“Why don’t I remember coming here? And when did Prowl find us? Are you sure he’s outside?” The tracker hushed the young Praxian again, but the grey mech was still agitated despite the holographer’s efforts. He stood, wobbling slightly before he braced himself against the wall, taking a shaky step towards the exit, and the other mechs rose as well, tense, poised to restrain him in a sparkbeat.
Suddenly, something entered their current hideout. Smokescreen and Jazz reached for their weapons, only to stop when they saw a black and white Praxian standing before them. The mute newcomer motioned for them to be silent, then nodded at Bluestreak before slipping out again.
“There, you see? He’s keeping watch for us. Anyway, why didn’t you tell us you were hurt? I accidentally grabbed your sensor panel earlier, and you passed out. So we carried you here.”
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother anyone while there was more important stuff going on.” The grey mech cringed a little, and Hound reassured him.
“It’s fine. But tell us next time. Now, you should get some rest, we’ll be moving once it gets light out.”
“Alright.” Bluestreak quieted, soon falling into recharge. The Ops mechs watched the grey form go still, and then turned to Smokescreen when nothing else happened. The psychologist shrugged.
“I guess he needs the rest too. He’s usually awake when Blue’ is, so staying online when Bluestreak isn’t must be taxing.”
They nodded, and Smokescreen fixed a look onto Hound. “Now, explain about that hologram you just pulled.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t think of how else to calm Bluestreak down, so I thought I’d take a chance and see if it’d work. A Praxian frame’s simple enough to render, but the paintjob I stole from Jazz, mixed up a little so we wouldn’t end up with twins.” The green mech ducked sheepishly, before smirking at them, drawing a strained chuckle from both mechs as he added.
“Primus knows, one Jazz’s more than enough.”
= = =
“Hey, Smokey.”
Smokescreen roused from the light recharge he’d fallen into. Jazz was seated across from him, directing a contemplative look at Bluestreak’s offline form. Hound was nowhere to be seen, now that the Decepticons had moved off he was most probably outside, keeping his scanners on the area.
“What is it?”
The black and white mech waved a hand at the grey Praxian. “What’re we gonna do about Bluestreak? The ‘Cons who destroyed Praxus aren’t gonna like that he survived their handiwork. And while he’s probably not going to be on Megatron’s slag list, the turborats and scraplets can still be a pain in the aft.”
“I was hoping to get him enlisted. He’d be safer in the Autobots, and I could keep a better optic on him that way.”
“You realise he’s more likely to end up packed off to a refugee camp until the war’s over? Blue’s a youngling. At least he sounds and acts like one.”
“I have reason to believe that’s because of their separation. If we could just get them to merge again…” The blue mech tried, trailing off as even he recognized that the odds of that happening any time soon were unlikely. Cycling air heavily, he glanced at the visored mech. “Look, if you have any ideas I’d be happy to hear them.”
Jazz sighed as well. “They may not want Bluestreak, but they’re gonna want to take a good hard look at who else comes with him as a package deal. I watched that other bot while we were getting here. S’got a sharp mind, with the proper programs, say, strategic algorithms like yours, he’d be a force to be reckoned with.”
“They share a CPU. If one’s smart that means the other is the same.” Smokescreen protested, and the Ops mech nodded, conceding the tactician’s point before countering it.
“Yeah, I know that undoing the split would be best for him, but they can’t do that if they’re dead. They’d be safest with us. And you know how much we need tacticians.”
“I concur.” They started when Bluestreak’s frame shifted, optics lighting dimly. “It would not be logical to risk two more Autobots for a member of the rank and file. But they did so in order to retrieve Smokescreen earlier.”
“Much as I wanna deny that, I can’t, Bl- Frag. You need a designation, just so it’s easier for us to talk to you.” Jazz groaned, venting air in frustration. The grey mech thought the statement over and offered.
“You could address me as Delta-280ZX. It is Bluestreak’s protoform number.”
“That’s not a name!” Both Autobots replied, somewhat heatedly, and a grey helm tilted quizzically at them.
“It is a sufficient distinction between me and Bluestreak.”
“Okay, your self naming privileges are hereby revoked.” Jazz muttered, then turned to Smokecreen. “Y’know, technically, he is Bluestreak’s Prowl. He got the two of you away from the ‘Cons, and kept Bluestreak alive in the first place. And he’s got the potential to be a tactics bot like Blue’ said Prowl was.”
“I suppose it’d be easier than explaining to Blue’ that he’s got a split personality and an imaginary friend once we get the chance to.” The psychologist replied, still not looking too pleased with the whole situation.
“Yeah, that too.” The Ops mech addressed Bluestreak’s other personality again. “You okay with that?”
The grey mech nodded once, and the visored mech continued decisively. “Then it’s settled. Good to finally meet you, Prowl. Bluestreak’s been talking about you.” The black and white mech grinned at him and Smokescreen shook his head at the saboteur.
“I can imagine. However, I find I must take leave of your company once more.” ‘Prowl’ smiled, very faintly, before his optics darkened and the grey frame slumped offline under their concerned gazes. Slowly, Bluestreak began to stir, a scraping noise startling the Praxian to full wakefulness as it drew their attention to the tracker sticking his head back inside.
“Oh good, you’re all online. It’s getting light. Time to go.”
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Smokescreen. Bluestreak. Hound. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
They started across the ruined city, Smokescreen in the lead, both Praxians occasionally stopping to confer with each other over their route. The tactician sketched out the safest paths based on what he knew of the terrain, and Bluestreak’s other self quietly pointed out where things had changed or how they would benefit from certain adjustments to their route. Several times his input came in useful, especially when one of the Ops mechs picked up traces of the Decepticons close by.
Finally, Jazz called a halt to their trek. “We need to set down for the rest of the cycle. S’getting dark, and we’ll risk of drawing unfriendly attention if we use our lights. We’ve been lucky so far, but let’s not push things.”
The two chevroned bots nodded, and the saboteur glanced about their surroundings before pointing at a decrepit looking building. “That looks like somewhere we can hide out for a while. C’mon.”
= = =
Jazz took first watch as the others settled in, Hound clearing the area of assorted wreckage while Smokescreen checked on the grey mech, concerned by the way one of his sensor panels was starting to droop unnaturally. Observing how the mech was frowning at a spot on the opposite wall, the tactician queried.
“Something wrong?”
“I am trying to come up with an explanation that Bluestreak would accept for being unconscious during our change in location. I do not wish to deceive him too much, he has troubles enough already.”
“Frag.”
“Smokescreen.”
“Yeah?”
“Bluestreak is waking again. And I have been online in some way or another ever since the Decepticons attacked the medical camp. I do not think I will be able to override him if he needs me this time.” The mech’s voice was faint, and he was leaning back against the wall, visibly drained. Smokescreen could almost see him fading away. Just then, the black and white mech re-entered their space, murmuring lowly.
“We got ‘Cons approaching. Best we keep it down in here.”
“ ‘Cons? But- … Where are we?” All three Autobots looked at Bluestreak, Jazz shooting Smokescreen a worried glance, the blue mech moving to calm the disoriented Praxian.
“Near the edge of the city. We had to move to get to the pick up point in time, Blue’.”
“Oh… Where’s Prowl? We didn’t say what we were going to do about him! Where is he?!”
At a complete loss, Smokescreen fumbled for an answer. “Prowl’s-”
“Outside.” Hound cut in, tone soothing as both Jazz and Smokescreen cast disbelieving looks at him. Bluestreak focused on the tracker, optics wide.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“It’s dangerous!”
“I know, that’s why we need to be quiet, or the ‘Cons will hear us.”
“… Okay.” Bluestreak did as told, curling up slightly. His next query was a little more controlled. “Hound?”
“Mmm?”
“Why don’t I remember coming here? And when did Prowl find us? Are you sure he’s outside?” The tracker hushed the young Praxian again, but the grey mech was still agitated despite the holographer’s efforts. He stood, wobbling slightly before he braced himself against the wall, taking a shaky step towards the exit, and the other mechs rose as well, tense, poised to restrain him in a sparkbeat.
Suddenly, something entered their current hideout. Smokescreen and Jazz reached for their weapons, only to stop when they saw a black and white Praxian standing before them. The mute newcomer motioned for them to be silent, then nodded at Bluestreak before slipping out again.
“There, you see? He’s keeping watch for us. Anyway, why didn’t you tell us you were hurt? I accidentally grabbed your sensor panel earlier, and you passed out. So we carried you here.”
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother anyone while there was more important stuff going on.” The grey mech cringed a little, and Hound reassured him.
“It’s fine. But tell us next time. Now, you should get some rest, we’ll be moving once it gets light out.”
“Alright.” Bluestreak quieted, soon falling into recharge. The Ops mechs watched the grey form go still, and then turned to Smokescreen when nothing else happened. The psychologist shrugged.
“I guess he needs the rest too. He’s usually awake when Blue’ is, so staying online when Bluestreak isn’t must be taxing.”
They nodded, and Smokescreen fixed a look onto Hound. “Now, explain about that hologram you just pulled.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t think of how else to calm Bluestreak down, so I thought I’d take a chance and see if it’d work. A Praxian frame’s simple enough to render, but the paintjob I stole from Jazz, mixed up a little so we wouldn’t end up with twins.” The green mech ducked sheepishly, before smirking at them, drawing a strained chuckle from both mechs as he added.
“Primus knows, one Jazz’s more than enough.”
= = =
“Hey, Smokey.”
Smokescreen roused from the light recharge he’d fallen into. Jazz was seated across from him, directing a contemplative look at Bluestreak’s offline form. Hound was nowhere to be seen, now that the Decepticons had moved off he was most probably outside, keeping his scanners on the area.
“What is it?”
The black and white mech waved a hand at the grey Praxian. “What’re we gonna do about Bluestreak? The ‘Cons who destroyed Praxus aren’t gonna like that he survived their handiwork. And while he’s probably not going to be on Megatron’s slag list, the turborats and scraplets can still be a pain in the aft.”
“I was hoping to get him enlisted. He’d be safer in the Autobots, and I could keep a better optic on him that way.”
“You realise he’s more likely to end up packed off to a refugee camp until the war’s over? Blue’s a youngling. At least he sounds and acts like one.”
“I have reason to believe that’s because of their separation. If we could just get them to merge again…” The blue mech tried, trailing off as even he recognized that the odds of that happening any time soon were unlikely. Cycling air heavily, he glanced at the visored mech. “Look, if you have any ideas I’d be happy to hear them.”
Jazz sighed as well. “They may not want Bluestreak, but they’re gonna want to take a good hard look at who else comes with him as a package deal. I watched that other bot while we were getting here. S’got a sharp mind, with the proper programs, say, strategic algorithms like yours, he’d be a force to be reckoned with.”
“They share a CPU. If one’s smart that means the other is the same.” Smokescreen protested, and the Ops mech nodded, conceding the tactician’s point before countering it.
“Yeah, I know that undoing the split would be best for him, but they can’t do that if they’re dead. They’d be safest with us. And you know how much we need tacticians.”
“I concur.” They started when Bluestreak’s frame shifted, optics lighting dimly. “It would not be logical to risk two more Autobots for a member of the rank and file. But they did so in order to retrieve Smokescreen earlier.”
“Much as I wanna deny that, I can’t, Bl- Frag. You need a designation, just so it’s easier for us to talk to you.” Jazz groaned, venting air in frustration. The grey mech thought the statement over and offered.
“You could address me as Delta-280ZX. It is Bluestreak’s protoform number.”
“That’s not a name!” Both Autobots replied, somewhat heatedly, and a grey helm tilted quizzically at them.
“It is a sufficient distinction between me and Bluestreak.”
“Okay, your self naming privileges are hereby revoked.” Jazz muttered, then turned to Smokecreen. “Y’know, technically, he is Bluestreak’s Prowl. He got the two of you away from the ‘Cons, and kept Bluestreak alive in the first place. And he’s got the potential to be a tactics bot like Blue’ said Prowl was.”
“I suppose it’d be easier than explaining to Blue’ that he’s got a split personality and an imaginary friend once we get the chance to.” The psychologist replied, still not looking too pleased with the whole situation.
“Yeah, that too.” The Ops mech addressed Bluestreak’s other personality again. “You okay with that?”
The grey mech nodded once, and the visored mech continued decisively. “Then it’s settled. Good to finally meet you, Prowl. Bluestreak’s been talking about you.” The black and white mech grinned at him and Smokescreen shook his head at the saboteur.
“I can imagine. However, I find I must take leave of your company once more.” ‘Prowl’ smiled, very faintly, before his optics darkened and the grey frame slumped offline under their concerned gazes. Slowly, Bluestreak began to stir, a scraping noise startling the Praxian to full wakefulness as it drew their attention to the tracker sticking his head back inside.
“Oh good, you’re all online. It’s getting light. Time to go.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-11 06:05 pm (UTC)(I can't wait to see where this is going ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 12:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-11 06:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 12:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-11 07:06 pm (UTC)Love to see how they're gonna resolve the whole situation. Or even explain to Optimus about it. And Ratchet's gonna have a field day!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-11 09:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 12:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-12 01:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 01:06 am (UTC)(And can you imagine what Jazz'd do if there was another bot with an identical paintjob? 0_0 He'd be able to get away with so much more)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 02:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-12 02:47 am (UTC)Lol: "Okay, your self naming privileges are hereby revoked" you tell'em Jazz *shakes head at Prowl* Can't wait for the next!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 01:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-12 09:36 am (UTC)On another note, "your self naming privileges are hereby revoked" ...yeah, ok, that line just makes this fic :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 01:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-13 07:38 am (UTC)And things just keep getting more complicated for Bluestreak/Prowl, don't they?
Looking forward to more!
-Jenn
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 03:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-16 02:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-16 04:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-24 03:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-24 11:47 am (UTC)