dark energon giving the users the ability to see ghosts. typically, this leads to the user descending further into madness as they see the ghosts of those they've killed haunting them, never letting them forget their crimes.
except when starscream uses dark energon, he's soon driven up a wall by one extremely annoying ghost.
because once cliffjumper realizes starscream can see him, he decides to do the one thing he does best: have fun being a jackass. total chaos ensues.
The autobot base was full of movement. While Bumblebee and Arcee were out scouting a new energon mine, the rest of the team prepared for the approaching fight, and Ratchet prepared for the potential aftermath.
Normally they wouldn't risk attacking energon mines, especially within such a tight timeframe. But they didn't have a choice. Their last mission had garnered less than optimal results- only managing to keep hold of a few cubes. It was a risk they needed to take.
Everyone fell silent and turned to the base's main computer as Ratchet answered the commlink, "What is your status?"
"We're in position," Arcee responded. They kept the call as brief as possible, so it wouldn't alert the decepticons even if their comm chatter got picked up.
Optimus turned to Ratchet and gave him a nod, signaling for him to cycle up the groundbridge. Then he addressed the rest of the team, "Autobots, roll out!"
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.
.
The autobot's groundbridge opened a short distance from the entrance of the decepticon mine. The team moved quickly, Optimus led Bulkhead and Cliffjumper straight into the cavern. They immediately faced resistance as the vechicons and miners quickly abandoned their posts to engage the intruders. Good thing being stealthy wasn't their goal.
Bulkhead flipped an empty cart onto its side to create some cover, "Let's make some noise!"
With that, blasterfire erupted throughout the cavern as the fight commenced. The echoes made it sound as though an orbital bombardment was touching down.
The autobots were clearly outnumbered, and an energon mine wasn't exactly an ideal location for a shootout. The raw crystal material, though not as explosive as its refined form, was still easily combustible.
But that didn't have to be a disadvantage for them. Cliffjumper smirked, and carefully aimed a burst of shots at a vein of energon on the cave wall, successfully igniting it. The resulting blast threw the vechicons from behind their cover.
"Whoa- Nice shot Cliff!" Bulkhead cheered, before adding more quietly, "but we don't actually want to clear these guys out,"
"Maybe the 'cons should fight better then," Cliffjumper grumbled, but heeded the wrecker's warning. The plan had its risks, and he knew better than to add to them. But so far it seemed to be proceeding without a hitch. As long as they kept the decepticons attention on them, the plan would continue smoothly.
The offensive team drew the decepticons attention to the entrance, while in the depths of the mine, Arcee and Bumblebee quietly gathered as many cubes as they could carry and prepared to transport them back to base. As long as the decepticons focus was kept away from them, they'd soon open a bridge and start transporting their stolen goods.
The team's commlink chirped to life with Ratchet's concerned voice, "I am picking up a dark energon signal, rapidly approaching your location."
"Megatron?" Optimus inquired cautiously. The decepticon leader wouldn't usually make an appearance on attacks like these, but after their last unsuccessful raid, he may have been expecting the autobots to strike again.
"I'm not sure. I don't recognize the signature, but it isn't reading clearly.." Ratchet answered, sounding perplexed, "it's.. too corrupted to be certain of its origin,"
Even if the signal didn't belong to Megatron, it still meant reinforcements were on their way. And if they got cut off from the mine's entrance, they would be completely surrounded.
Optimus paused as the others continued to fire, clearly weighing the risks. Finally, he turned on his commlink and gave the order, "Autobots, fall back!"
A few clicks over the commlink signaled that Bumblebee and Arcee had also heard his command. Hopefully they had already started to transport the cubes.
The trio of autobots retreated, transforming into their vehicle modes as they dove out the mine's entrance. Quickly weaving to avoid the blasterfire that followed them.
"Ratchet, we require a bridge," Optimus requested, even though he knew it would be some time before they could properly retreat.
Extracting Arcee, Bumblebee and the energon they had gathered took priority. Until the groundbridge was available, they'd have to put as much distance between them and the decepticon mine as possible.
"Just a few more minutes," Arcee assured over comms, the clatter of movement in the background promised they were moving as quickly as they could.
Cliffjumper spotted a large flier emerge from the clouds ahead of them, "Better make it fast- we've got company!" He announced over the rev of his engine.
"I'm locking onto your coordinates now," Ratchet assured. Soon after a groundbridge flickered open nearby, and the team made a dash for it. However their new foe had no intention of letting them escape. The large mech practically crashed into the ground, transforming only at the last moment. Forcing the team to swerve out of the way or get squashed.
"We're cut off-!" Bulkhead gasped as he transformed back to his bot mode.
The new decepticon rose to their full height, looming between the autobots and their means of escape. Cliffjumper felt the energon in his veins run cold as he noticed the unnatural colour of the mech's eyes- purple, tainted by Unicron. It seemed the decepticons were trying their hand at creating more undead warriors...
A blaster bolt clipped Cliffjumper's shoulder, snapping him back to the task at hand. He turned to find the remaining vechicons from the energon mine advancing towards them. Cliffjumper added to Bulkhead's earlier observation, "-And surrounded!"
The large flier lunged towards the autobots and made a grab for the closest mech- Optimus.
The team quickly dove out of their reach, transforming out their blasters. Cliffjumper and Bulkhead laid down cover fire as Optimus moved to keep distance between himself and their attacker.
"What is this guy made of??" Cliffjumper exclaimed in disbelief. The large mech was just shrugging off their blasterfire, even as the scuffed paint on their heavy armor began to singe from the barrage of shots- they didn't so much as flinch.
As the autobots were forced to spread out on the battlefield, they finally got a good look at their new enemy. Their attacks were slow and stiff, it almost looked like they were being pulled by an invisible force. They ignored the damage they were sustaining, their sole focus was on attacking...But it seemed more calculated than the feral attacks an overdose of dark energon usually caused.
Cliffjumper felt rage flaring up in his spark, paired with utter disgust. He knew how it felt to have dark energon controlling one's mind, afterall he was still fighting the side effects- the anger he was feeling being one of them. At least opening fire against the decepticons made him feel a bit better, even though his shots didn't seem to be doing anything.
The autobots attempted to regroup, but their attacker's assault didn't let up. No matter how many shots hit their mark, the large mech didn't slow down.
"Our blasters aren't even making a dent-!" Cliffjumper gritted his teeth, turning his blaster on the vechicons instead. The team could all see that the large jet was tanking their shots. Their unnatural strength was no doubt linked to the dark energon in their veins.
Their previous encounters with such "zombies", as the kids called them, had yielded similar results. The only way to defeat them was to cut them down- literally.
"Then let's see how he handles in close combat!" Bulkhead said as he swapped his guns for his melee weapons and charged forwards.
The first swing caught their foe off guard, and they staggered backwards. But the large mech managed to catch the next attack, their hand completely enveloped Bulkhead's weapon. The two mechs grappled, the wrecker's attacks were well aimed and strong. But despite his efforts, the new decepticon was out of his weight class. Within a manner of seconds, the large mech had a hold on both of Bulkhead's weapons.
"Sorry big guy, I'm not keen on holding hands-!" Bulkhead transformed his hands back from their weapon form, managing to slip one of them free. He quickly changed his free hand to a blaster and fired a burst of shots across their chest.
"Besides- aren't you're supposed to buy me dinner first-?"
Despite being at such close range, the large jet remained unfazed by the attack. Slowly reaching forward until they seized Bulkhead's still firing gun and applied more and more pressure until the wrecker's armor buckled, sending a shower of sparks as his arm and blaster were crushed in their grip.
The large mech then heaved Bulkhead sideways, throwing him at the other autobots. Cliffjumper didn't have time to react before he was bowled over by the wrecker.
"Bulk, get off-!" Cliffjumper wheezed as he squirmed, trying to escape from underneath his stunned teammate.
Optimus rushed to their aid, helping Bulkhead then Cliffjumper back to their feet.
"I don't think we can beat this guy," Bulkhead winced as he cradled his mangled arm.
Nothing they did was pushing their foe back, none of their attacks did any meaningful damage, and the jet was already trudging towards them again...
Thankfully a new portal flickered open a few paces to away, Arcee and Bumblebee popped out to lay down cover fire their teammates. Without hesitation the autobots retreated before their enemy could reach them again.
The team breathed a collective sigh of relief as the portal to the battlefield flickered closed.
"What happened out there?" Ratchet demanded as soon as he finished deactivating the groundbridge and turned his attention to the battered team.
"It was that new decepticon again- threw Bulk like he was nothin'!" Cliffjumper exclaimed as he brushed off the dirt that clung to his frame.
Optimus nodded solemnly, "We underestimated the appearance of this unknown foe. They were far more formidable than expected."
"Formidable is pushing it." Cliffjumper scoffed, "They were too dumb to even try dodgin' our blasters."
He knew better than any of them the strain dark energon puts on one's mind, however the decepticons had gotten their hands on such a large mech.. they didn't start out an unfeeling husk.
Ratchet carefully inspected Bulkhead's crushed arm, muttering curses under his breath as he began to work.
"He didn't need to-!" Bulkhead countered with shudder, "It was creepy. He didn't even flinch when he got shot,"
"They had dark energon to thank for that." Arcee interjected, giving Cliffjumper a stern look. Before shooting a disappointed one to the others, clearly displeased they hadn't brought it up.
Cliffjumper was familiar with that scolding look, he should have known 'Cee would notice.. but couldn't she have just ignored it? At least until Bulkhead's arm had been properly looked after.
Ratchet immediately halted his inspection of Bulkhead's wound. Instead he began quickly retrieving vials and syringes, "Cliffjumper, I need to draw some energon. The rest of the team too,"
"What? I wasn't even near them!" Cliffjumper protested, "The closest I got was when Bulkhead almost turned me into a pancake."
"Regardless, with dark energon in play we cannot take any chances." Ratchet insisted, "Any exposure, especially with you, requires immediate treatment."
"Yeah, I've already heard this spiel doc," Cliffjumper bristled, "We know the decepticons use the stuff-"
"Yes, with what they learned from experimenting on you." Ratchet immediately shut down the argument.
Cliffjumper rolled his eyes, but ultimately allowed the medic to do his work. Ratchet drew a vile of energon from each team member, each sample was a uniform glowing light blue- save for Cliffjumper's, which was a far darker shade- almost purple.
"See doc, all normal." Cliffjumper huffed crossing his arms, "Now you can focus on the real injuries." He pointedly gestured towards the injured wrecker.
"Normal is not the word I'd use.." Ratchet muttered as he returned to tend to Bulkhead's injuries.
Cliffjumper's previous exposure to dark energon by the hands of the decepticons had left lasting effects, not to mention the rampage it had initially sent him on- attacking decepticon and autobot alike. It wasn't hard to believe the decepticons had begun dosing their own soldiers with tainted energon. It was extreme, but not entirely surprising. Afterall, Megatron was mad enough to use such a volatile substance on himself.
But if the decepticons were starting to dose more of their soldiers, it presented a whole new issue... It would make any altercations far more dangerous going forward, as it stands there is no way to completely reverse the effects. And if the decepticons had truly found a way to perfect their undead soldiers, it was paramount they find a way to more effectively combat it.
.
.
.
Knockout turned to the sound of the med bay doors swishing open, revealing Megatron and his new undead soldier. The mech looked rather worse for wear, their white paint was singed with black patches from a barrage of laserfire.
"Well hello there, mysterious stranger~" Knockout greeted as he waltzed over to the door. Upon receiving no reply he turned his attention to Megatron, "He's a strong silent type, eh?"
Megatron rolled his eyes and scowled, "Enough prattling Knockout. Patch it up." He growled, "An immortal warrior is useless if it's falling apart."
"Right away, Lord Megatron." Knockout accepted with a shallow bow. Megatron stalked away, abandoning Knockout with the large mech standing silently in the doorway.
He wasn't surprised that the warlord wasn't sticking around to observe repairs..but he still fidgeted for a moment, unsure how they expected him to get the (literal) dead weight into the medical bay.
He frowned, dumping the half-dead seeker at his door was bad enough.. but this walking corpse was definitely beyond his expertise.
He let out a dramatic sigh, "C'mon, I need you to work with me big guy," He grabbed ahold of one of their hands, and slowly began to guide the large mech into the medical bay.
Even though the nemesis had been built with fliers' heights in mind.. this guy stood head and shoulders over all the decepticons- at least.
"Watch your head-" Knockout warned, and to his surprise the tall mech obediently ducked to get through the doorway. "Hmm?" Knockout mused, had the dark energon left them in a highly suggestable state? Or had they simply been ordered to comply..?
Once he had successfully herded the large mech inside, Knockout walked a slow circle around the battered flier, taking in every scuff and scratch on their frame. He really had his work cut out for him... But there was another reason Knockout couldn't help but stare, rumor has it this was Starscream's conjunx endura.
He never would have guessed that Starscream of all mechs would be involved with anyone- let alone conjunxed. He frankly didn't seem the type. Being a part of something that required so much mutual trust, was just completely out of character. Knockout couldn't help but scoff at the thought, loyal was not a word that described Starscream in any sense.
His mind continued to wander as he inspected their wounds. What kind of mech had they been? Surely no sane bot would get so close with Starscream. It was a shame they were dead, Knockout frowned, he would have greatly enjoyed the chance to exchange some gossip.
Despite the seeker being his most frequent patient, Starscream was less than enthusiastic about sharing anything apart from their latest half-baked scheme to overthrow Megatron.
Knockout inspected the large mech's hand, their palm was charred and cracked like it had been shot repeatedly at close range.. Almost as though they had put their hand over a firing gun. Knockout tisked, clearly the dead had no sense of self preservation- but why would they?
He had to give some credit to the autobots, the shots across the large mech's armor were well aimed. The jet's heavy armor was beginning to warp from the blaster bolts repeatatively overlapping. Any other mech would have been felled by this damage.
Knockout began retrieving and setting out tools in preparation. Their paint desperately needed attending to...aside from blaster burns, there were sections scraped away from their time underneath the shifting ice. But as much as it pained him, even he knew when to prioritize actual injuries over looks. Though that didn't stop him from laying out his tools and making a mental list of touch ups to get done later.
Knockout grumbled as he fought to properly weld the injury on their hand, dark energon was frustrating to work around to say the least. It was practically sludge compared to regular energon, and spread like a disease- infecting any regular energon it came into contact with. Which made it a dangerous substance to even be in the medical bay.
Muttering a series of curses, Knockout retrieved an energon iv, "There you go big guy," he said as he hooked it up to the silent mech, "You can't heal with that garbage in your veins."
He wasn't actually sure if it would make any difference- but it certainly couldn't make it worse.
With the iv in place, Knockout began his work.
He took his time, carefully mending each wound to the best of his ability.
Any previous attempts by Megatron to create an undead creature hadn't yielded promising results... They normally didn't last long, the strain of forcing a decomposing mech back into function usually caused them to break down quickly. Any damage they sustained would slowly lead them to fall apart, and there was only so much he could do to keep them in one piece... afterall, dead metal can't heal.
Though, this one was scarily well preserved.. it didn't look like they had started decomposing at all. He supposed that was from being frozen, rather than lying dead on a battlefield. But surprisingly, he also hadn't found any obvious cause of death on the large flier.. maybe they would last longer because of it?
Regardless, their new injuries were as well mended as he could manage now, though their hand would surely need further attention later on.
Knockout grinned, he could finally start fixing their atrocious paintjob.
What was left of their paint was dreadful- cracked, scratched and burned. Both from the recent battle and being excavated from the ice.
Unfortunately he wouldn't have enough materials on hand to do a complete repaint, so despite how bland it was, he would have to stick to touching up their original paintjob... at least for now.
He carefully selected the paints most similar to their colours, then expertly mixed until they were exact matches.
Sure putting someone back together was admirable, but this was the work he thrived off of. He had worked hard to refine his skills, it wasn't his fault war had apparently killed the need for his craft-! In his expert opinion, it shouldn't have- afterall why shouldn't you look your best going to battle? One should make a statement! Unfortunately it seemed his fellow decepticons did not share in his views, preferring the most dull and boring of paint schemes...
Starscream being one of the worst offenders, they barely had any paint on their frame at all.
Finally Knockout took a step back to admire his work, he really had outdone himself- in both paint and treatment. Aside from their purple optics, you could hardly even tell they were dead.
"Err, Knockout, you said to tell you if anything changed with Starscream?" Breakdown cautiously called out across medbay.
Knockout's attention snapped away from his current deceased patient, quickly making his way over to his hopefully still living one...
A glance at the seeker's vitals revealed no drastic issues- Then Starscream stirred, and their red optics flickered online.
"Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Starscream," Knockout smirked, trying to make light of the situation, despite the dire state the seeker had arrived in.
Starscream only let out a pained groan in response as they pulled themself up to a seated position. No doubt they'd be feeling those wounds for awhile.
"Megatron did quite the number on you," Knockout shot Starscream a raised eyebrow.
It was hardly his first time patching up Starscream.. they were probably the most frequent patient he saw to.
"..what?" Starscream cupped their hand to their hand to head, their optics struggling to focus.
Their confusion wasn't surprising given the amount of trauma they had sustained. After a moment their expression sharply morphed into a scowl. "No. It's nothing- I'm fine."
However, the myriad of freshly treated wounds across their frame begged to differ.. and were far more convincing.
Knockout rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Your injuries tell a different story."
Breakdown passed Knockout a datapad with a scan of the seeker on it, lit up and colour coded for each injury. Cracks, scuffs, breaks- new wounds and re opened old ones.
"What did you do to tick off Megatron this time?" Knockout asked, preparing to listen to whatever ill-concieved plan Starscream had failed execute. But to Knockout's surprise, this time Starscream remained silent.
To be fair, the seeker didn't have to do much to gain their leader's ire. If anything it was a miracle they hadn't already been offlined, considering the amount of times they had attempted and failed to steal command of the decepticons...
Starscream wore a tight frown as they stood up, looking rather furious at the floor.
"And where do you think you're going?" Knockout sidestepped to avoid the seeker running into him.
But they ignored him and their injuries, as they started to limp towards the door. Only to suddenly freeze midstep, letting out a strangled gasp as they laid eyes on their partner. Their faceplate paled as though they had seen a ghost- in a way, they had...
"Hey, I did what I could, but contrary to popular belief I don't have tons of paint just lying around." Knockout shrugged as he sauntered up to the duo, "If I did, perhaps I could have given them a proper decepticon paint job~" He suggested with a smirk. Their current bright colours made them stand out among the decepticons ranks, and not in a good way.
That finally caused Starscream to snatch their shocked gaze away from the large flier, sharply turning to Knockout, "Don't." They snapped, their tone full of anger but their expression was still warped with horror.
"Touchy, touchy," Knockout relented, holding up his hands. Normally pushing the seeker's buttons was amusing, but it wasn't as fun when it caused the seeker such visceral distress.
Perhaps he should have expected such a reaction.. afterall that was their conjunx standing dead before them. But he was still finding it hard to believe that Starscream actually seemed to care about a mech other than themself- yet the seeker stood trembling before him.
Maybe it would have been better for Starscream if the dead mech hadn't been in such good condition.. with their paint restored they almost looked alive. The sooner they fell apart, the sooner Megatron would lose interest and cast the rotting corpse aside. Though given Starscream's current state, he wasn't sure what seeing them degrade would do to the seeker's health...
Starscream gritted their teeth and continued storming towards the medbay door, keeping their eyes locked to the floor this time.
"Hey! I didn't clear you to leave yet-!" Knockout called after them, knowing full well they weren't listening anymore.
"I'll get him," Breakdown said, taking a step to follow the seeker.
"No, don't bother," Knockout waved him off, dragging the seeker back here wouldn't be to their benefit, not with... Knockout looked back to the undead mech with a frown. Not with them here. Knockout sighed, there wasn't much he could do for the seeker if they refused further treatment.
"Breakdown, what was the big guy's name?" Knockout gestured to the remaining jet.
Breakdown made a face as he thought, "Uhm.. I think it was.. somethin...fire?"
"..Something-fire?" Knockout repeated with a raised eyebrow, though he wasn't entirely surprised Breakdown hadn't remembered the name of the dead mech.
Knockout crossed his arms, he couldn't help but pity Starscream.. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, being forced to watch one's loved one puppeted around... Though, it was still overshadowed by the shock Starscream actually cared about someone enough for it to affect them.
Knockout paused to think, it didn't really matter what they were called. However, not being dubbed the same name as when they were alive may be better for Starscream.. it may spare the seeker a small amount of grief.
They were a large flier, probably some type of jet... Knockout shrugged, "I'll just call them.. Jetfire,"
He didn't doubt Megatron would find more ways to harass their second in command. They were definitely holding a grudge against Starscream, which wasn't exactly undeserved- especially after their most recent stunt.. but this felt unessicarily cruel. Knockout hoped their ire wouldn't spread any further, considering how he had been complicit in Starscream's scheme.
Knockout looked Jetfire up and down with narrowed eyes, he wonder how far their leader's sight reached through this mech. It certainly wasn't something he was willing to gamble with, seeing how ill Megatron's mood already was.
It was probably best to assume their conversations around this mech would be overheard, at least until they had confirmation otherwise. As such, it would be best for it to stand menacingly elsewhere.
There was a way to try and test the theory now.. Knockout addressed the silent mech, "Megatron? Your creature has been put back together, it can leave now."
Breakdown cocked his head with a quizzical expression, clearly confused as to what Knockout was trying to do. They weren't always the sharpest, but they knew when to follow Knockout's lead. In this case, they watched and waited for the eventual explanation.
Knockout waited expectantly as the undead mech remained completely silent, not responding in any way. After an extended silence, Knockout finally activated his commlink instead. "Lord Megatron, I have completed the repairs on your undead warrior."
"Excellent, this has already proven useful. It will be put back to work immediately."
Knockout cringed, their leader's words seemed to hold a malicious glee... he just hoped whatever Megatron had planned wouldn't be aimed at him.
Jetfire's eyes seemed to flare a deeper purple as they slowly turned, and marched out of medbay heading towards the command bridge.
"So..?" Breakdown's question trailed off, still awaiting an explanation from Knockout.
"Undecided," Knockout shrugged, he didn't consider the lack of response enough evidence, at least not yet. The decepticon leader may not want to reveal if their new puppet doubles as spyware. If so, Soundwave might need to worry about their job security. He wondered how many undead warriors would it take to equal the decepticon's spy master?
"We should be careful what we say and do around them, in case Megatron can see through their eyes," Knockout warned.
Breakdown frowned, Knockout firmly shared in their disappointment, it was already hard enough to get any alone time on the nemesis...
Knockout let out dramatic sigh, changing the subject, "Look at this mess," he dramatically gestured to a couple of flecks of white paint he had managed to get onto his own frame while repainting Jetfire.
"Touch up or full repaint?" Breakdown asked as they retrieved the set of tools. Knockout's partner was well practiced, despite the question they had already retrieved the right tools for what his answer would reflect.
"And risk ending up with anything but a perfect finish?" Knockout answered, Breakdown wore a small grin as they held up the gear they had already chosen.
Knockout smiled in return, he knew him so well, "What would I ever do without you?"
Smokescreen watched Optimus work, regarding the autobot leader with a hesitant curiosity. From what he had seen, Optimus was unlike any prime he had met before. Though, the only interactions with other primes had been fighting.. or running. Working with one was certainly a new perspective.
He had to admit that Optimus Prime was a good leader, and a caring mech. Not solely to their allies either, Smokescreen respected how they upheld their beliefs even on the battlefield. It was the actions and honor he would expect to find among his fellow predacons...
That fact alone made him think perhaps it wouldn't be bad to stick around and lend the autobots a helping hand. He still wasn't exactly stoked to be helping a prime, but it was better than standing idly by while Megatron tried to take hold of Cybertron and Earth.
The autobots were greatly outnumbered, and he wasn't foolish enough to think joining the fight would change much. But, he was a strong warrior, and could prove useful in more than just combat. Though the autobots were underestimating his strengths, they did seem to finally be trusting him more, enough to consider him a part of the team. But just because they were starting to let down their guard, didn't mean he could lower his, not completely.
After recent events, he was more willing to help help autobots. Putting in a more effort, he could be a great asset to the team, especially on the battlefield. His gaze slipped back to the autobot leader across the base,
"I'm going to be a great warrior, like those who came before me," Smokescreen stated firmly.
Bulkhead let out a small chuckle, "Well, train hard and gain some wisdom along the way and I'm sure it'll happen,"
"Oh, it will- call it destiny," Smokescreen smirked. He didn't actually need to train to get stronger- he just needed to put in more effort, and stop holding back. But training with the others may make his sudden improvements seem more natural.
Bee let out a quizzical chirp, and Arcee raised an eyebrow, "How so?"
"Oh, uh.. y'know, one minute I'm on security detail at Iacon, the next I wake up on the other side of the galaxy to find myself under Optimus's command," Smokescreen drew from his fake backstory, but saying that still left a sour taste in his mouth. Fate was a weird thing.. this certainly wasn't something he ever would have expected himself to be doing- following a prime's command. Never trust a prime- those were his own words echoing in his head. But, even back then his warnings had been ignored.
"I mean what are the chances? Things happen for a reason, right?"
That question was as much to himself as much as the universe... What would his pack think of what he had managed to get himself into? He couldn't help but chuckle, out of his packmates he was the least troublemaker of the three.. supposedly.
"We get it, Smokescreen," Arcee raised her hands, her tone unenthusiastic as she feigned relenting, "You're special, we're lucky to have you,"
"All I'm really saying is, I've come a long way. I don't plan on messing up this opportunity," Smokescreen truly meant it. Next time he was out of base, he'd find a way to retrieve the key from his subspace. And then the deal he made with Alpha Trion wouldn't be hanging over his head anymore.
As if on cue, Optimus turned from the computer to address the team, "Autobots, the next Iacon coordinates have been decoded. Ratchet ready the groundbridge."
Perfect timing.
"Last one to the omega key has to scrub the energon tanks for a week!" Smokescreen challenged as he jogged over to the bridge.
Arcee crossed her arms, "Didn't know we were keeping score,"
Smokescreen stopped short when Optimus spoke again, "Arcee, Bumblebee, prepare to roll out."
Bee chirped in acknowledgement, and the two autobots made their way over to the bridge.
Why were they leaving him out? Hadn't he proven himself by now?
"Wait, what about me?" Smokescreen asked, hardly attempting to hide his disappointment. He needed more opportunities to get out of the base, it was impossible to attempt to get rid of his own key with so many autobots around!
Bulkhead let out an exaggerated huff, pointedly reminding that Smokescreen wasn't the only one being left out.
"I mean, me and Bulkhead," Smokescreen quickly corrected. He had gotten ahead of himself, it probably seemed like he wanted to hog all the glory of finding the keys- but that wasn't the case.
"The two of you will remain here, in the event I am able to decode a subsequent database entry before the others return," Optimus explained before returning his attention back to the computer.
Smokescreen's doorwings drooped, he had been distracted. Arcee and Bee were going after the second key now, how many keys were there in total? How many coordinates were there left to decode? Scrap, he should have been paying closer attention.
"Optimus is right, considering the very fate of Cybertron is at stake, response time is critical." Ratchet agreed.
"Keep your engines idling, kid," Arcee shot over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the bridge, "Come on bee, destiny awaits~"
Smokescreen frowned, he knew they were poking fun at him, but he just watched as Arcee and Bumblebee transformed and drove through the portal.
He supposed if the relic had been located near people it made sense why he wouldn't be sent for it. With the whole robots in disguise, don't get seen by humans rules, even if he wasn't locked in his bot mode... wouldn't be something he could easily do. Fortunately the autobots had more important things to focus on than him and his lack of alt mode.
"We call it a pit stop," Bulkhead assured with a firm, but friendly pat on back, "We'll get back in the race,"
Smokescreen only offered a small shrug on response. He didn't disagree with the autobots' reasoning, having a team on standby was a smart move. But Smokescreen was still faced with the fact that any of the remaining coordinates could belong to his key, and Optimus was already starting work on the next set. The worry had been slowly clawing at the back of his mind, yet the autobots were decoding and finding the relics at such an impressive pace that he felt blindsided by their efficiency.
He absently fiddled with the phaseshifter on his wrist, this was not an ideal situation.. Should he just tell them? He felt a sharp twist in his gut, more than the familiar ache from the modelock. This was the first time he had truly considered the option. He still wasn't keen on admitting to his lies, but was there even a way he could tell them without revealing his true nature..?
If he could just get the relic out of his subspace, he could pretend to find it with another relic.. or stash it somewhere the autobots could easily find. But he wouldn't get the chance to if he didn't get out of the base soon. He didn't know what to do...
His troubled thoughts were interrupted by Bulkhead, "So Smokescreen, what was it like serving in the Hall of Records?"
He had hoped any interest in his past would have have faded, but of course now of all times it got brought back up. He needed to focus on the relics, not gain another stressful distraction.
"Standing guard isn't exactly entertaining, the most interesting thing that happened was when the decepticons took the hall." Smokescreen brushed off the wrecker's probing question and instead tried to shift the focus back into them, "You guys have been fighting on the front lines- I bet you have far more engaging stories,"
"Never a dull moment, that's for sure." Bulkhead chuckled, before again directing the conversation back towards Smokescreen, "But I mean, you served with Alpha Trion."
They insisted that point like it meant something. But he didn't know Alpha Trion well enough to lie about, especially since the Prime apparently had been close to them.
"I served under him, we didn't really interact closely until the hall fell." Smokescreen quickly shot their question down. It was very close to the truth, he truly didn't know much about Alpha Trion- aside from their rather.. questionable decision to task a predacon with transporting a relic. But more importantly, this conversation was quickly starting to feel more like an interrogation than a friendly chat.
Bulkhead frowned, looking a bit conflicted before finally posing, "Since you haven't chosen an Earth alt yet, maybe show the kids cybertronian alt mode? I know Miko would be stoked."
Smokescreen bristled, he should have expected this would come up again. But using the kids as leverage? That was low. Like the autobots, he had grown to have a soft spot for the humans. Modelock aside, that didn't mean he would be willing to risk everything to "show off" his other mode. If the kids did find out... would they fear him? Hate him? He didn't want to find out.
"Maybe I'm just a monoformer," he threw out, regretting it the moment it left his mouth. It was such an obviously a lie- but he wouldn't hate it if they actually believed it.
Bulkhead immediately caught on, countering, "You've transformed your hands, a monoformer wouldn't be able to transform at all."
Smokescreen had only managed to transform his hands around the others a couple of times- he'd be impressed with how perceptive everyone was if it wasn't so annoying!
Smokescreen crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, asking directly this time, "Why are you so invested in my other mode?"
Bulkhead shook his head, "If you can't give us a straight answer about somethin' simple, how can we trust you on the battlefield?"
Oh no. Smokescreen's spark tightened, this was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Yes, he was still dodging and avoiding questions, and he knew his lies would eventually fall apart.. but he didn't want it to. Even if he had a hard admitting it, the autobots, humans, and Earth.. he liked it here.
"I'm not going to be transforming anytime soon, so it doesn't matter what my alt mode is." He snapped, keeping his doorwings rigid. He hadn't meant to sound so angry, but he needed the wrecker to back off. With only a couple of keys unaccounted for- one of which would reveal he had been lying to them.. he knew he didn't deserve their trust.
"Bulkhead," Ratchet suddenly interrupted, calling the wrecker over to their workstation. Bulkhead hesitated for a tense moment, looking like they weren't done talking. Before finally making their way across the base.
Ratchet continued, now speaking in a hushed tone. Smokescreen cautiously focused on their quiet conversation, if it was something they didn't want him hearing- he had better eavesdrop.
"We don't know much about Smokescreen's past-" Ratchet quietly cautioned.
"Because he won't tell us anything," Bulkhead shot back, unlike Ratchet they weren't trying to be quiet.
"We don't know why they're so hesitant-" Ratchet rephrased, "I don't want to speculate.. but Smokescreen is still new to Earth, we can afford to give them some time."
"How much time? I stand by what I said, how can we trust him on the battlefield of he's not honest off of it?" Bulkhead crossed their arms with a huff.
"I'm not saying not to be cautious, if anything the opposite. It's important we keep an eye on him, and be supportive when they're ready to share." Ratchet warned, "Considering the amount of scars he has, I don't expect it'll be a happy story."
Bulkhead finally seemed to see the medic's point and relented, even looking a bit guilty that they had been so pushy.
Smokescreen was thankful Ratchet seemed to be making excuses for him. It was unfortunate they were assuming he was traumatized. Though they were right to assume he hasn't had it easy, but he didn't want them to treat him as though he was fragile. That could lead to the autobots trying to keep him off the battlefield.. and that's the last thing he needed right now.
It wasn't long before Arcee and Bumblebee returned, dinged up and empty handed. Ratchet was quick to begin tending to their injuries.
Both of the autobots were heavily damaged, with cracked plating, shattered glass, and energon seeping through the seams of their armor.. Smoke recognized the injury type- it looked like they had been hit with some sort of sonic blasts.
He had faced similar weaponry before, it could knock a mech right out of of sky.. and he had the scars to match. In his experience the cannons required a ton of energy to power, and were only able to make one or two shots before overheating. But it seems the one they had faced didn't have the same drawback.
"I'm sorry Optimus.. Knockout was there, waiting for us." Arcee shook her head, clearly frustrated by the lost relic and battle, "Seems the 'cons are improving their decoding skills,"
"And it seems that with two keys already separated, no one currently possesses the means to revive cybertron." Ratchet added, their agitation barely disguised in their tense movements.
"While our quest to revive our planet may have reached a stalemate, securing the remaining keys is still the most prudent course of action." The autobot leader reasoned, trying to calm the team about the setback.
It was unfortunate Smokescreen had been left off the mission, if he had been sent, he may have had a better chance at combating the weapon than the others. He doubted they had as much experience against sonic weaponry as he did.
"Oh man, it must have been crazy with Knockout going all sonic! If I'd been there I woulda-"
"Would've what?" Arcee snapped, "Recovered the key like you did the first one?"
Smokescreen hesitated, that wasn't what he meant- not entirely. "..Maybe? Who knows! I just want us to be firing on all cylinders- y'know, now that the star saber's gone." He insisted, "Aaand I have a pretty good track record, so far,"
Arcee scoffed, fixing Smokescreen with a glare as she got up and stalked away. Forcing him to sidestep out of her way or she would have run into him. He knew he had pushed too hard.. he had just wanted to highlight that he wasn't a liability, he wasn't broken- he hadn't meant to insult the others while doing so.
"Look kid, Arcee and Bumblebee are no slouches. And Optimus managed just fine for eons without the big sword." Bulkhead weighed in, growing irritation in their tone. " 'Course, you wouldn't know about that, you've been locked in stasis the whole time we've been fighting this war!"
Those words cut deeper than the wrecker could have known they would. Smokescreen wasn't sure exactly how long he had been in stasis for- it couldn't have been for long, predacons aren't built to be able to go into stasis. Being kept at such frigid temperatures for an extended length of time would have killed him. But the more he learned about the autobots and their war.. the sinking feeling eating away at his spark grew...
He had to assume the war started right after the predacons fled, leaving the vechiformers no one to fight but among themselves. Even if that was the case, he wasn't going to just sit by while another world was at stake. The humans didn't deserve to have their home at risk for a war that wasn't theirs.
"Exactly!! And I'm ready to make up for lost time!" Smokescreen insisted. He wanted to help the autobots, but only if he could do so without telling them the whole truth.
"When Optimus says you're ready." Bulkhead reiterated, "You gotta be in this for the long haul- slow and steady wins the race."
The wrecker's words made him feel incredibly selfish. He wasn't in it for the team and their goals. Or at least, he hadn't been. But, he missed the bond he shared with his pack, being part of a larger whole. Every fiber of his being was urging him to be part of a team. It was becoming easier and easier to forget he was an outsider here. Among these autobots he was an imposter. Potentially, an enemy. But, they didn't know that. And he didn't intend on telling them.
.
.
.
"The next coordinates are ready," Optimus announced from their place in front of the computer. They didn't stop their typing, instead moving right along to begin decoding the next set.
"That leaves only one set left to decode." Ratchet added as they plugged in the coordinates and booted up the groundbridge.
"On it boss," Bulkhead nodded as he walked to join Smokescreen next to the bridge. The kid had been hanging around there for some time now, seemed as thought they were eager to not be overlooked for this next mission. They also may have been avoiding him...
"I'm gonna bring back a key," Smokescreen assured, but their doorwings dipped as they caught Arcee's look, narrowed eyes that bordered on a glare.
As the bridge flickered to life Arcee called out, "Uh, Bulk? Forgetting something?" As she pointedly held up the scanner.
"Heh, oops," Bulkhead chuckled as he doubled back to collect the device. They definitely needed that if they were to retrieve the relic, he hadn't been thinking.
He took the scanner from his teammate, but as he went to turn, Arcee caught his arm and leaned in, quietly adding, "Make sure you keep an eye on destiny's child, okay?"
Sure, the kid was a bit green, but it was nothing he couldn't cover for. Bulkhead assured them with a laugh, "Ha, compared to watching Miko? Piece of cake."
Smokescreen was reserved, and they had a long ways to go before he'd consider them an asset on battlefield. Ratchet was insistent on giving the kid time.. but the sooner they settled into the team the better. More field experience should hopefully lead to their improvement
Smokescreen seemed a bit twitchy as they walked through the groundbridge, maybe they were still mad at him for earlier..
"..I'm sorry for snapping at you,"
Bulkhead was taken aback by the sudden apology. After the quiet scolding Ratchet had delivered, he didn't feel like he was the one who deserved the apologize.
"Nah, I shouldn't have pushed you," Bulkhead responded, figuring that would be it.
But to his surprise, Smokescreen continued, "I.. don't like talking about myself." They kept their eyes trained on the approaching end of the groundbridge, "I was with.. my old team for so long... I'm not used to being the new guy." There was a flicker of sadness in their eyes, before they added, "Even when I was.. my brother was always more outgoing."
With that, they arrived in a quiet forest clearing. Bulkhead carefully surveyed the area, one hand holding the scanner and the other transformed into a blaster. The trees granted alot of cover, they didn't want to get boxed in if the 'cons snuck up on them.
As much as he wanted to ask Smokescreen about their final statement, this wasn't the time for idle chitchat. And he probably shouldn't push it and risk discouraging Smokescreen when they're actually trying opening up. Either way, it was time to focus on the mission.
"Gotcha," Smokescreen acknowledged, but they seemed distracted. They hadn't even transformed out a weapon yet!
It wasn't clear if their apparent adversion to transforming also applied to their hands.. but Smokescreen had transformed a gun when fighting Cylas.
"I mean it!" Bulkhead quickly added. The few seconds it would take to transform a weapon hadn't mattered this time, but next time they might not be so lucky. If the kid was going to continue being weird about transforming, maybe they should just get Smokescreen a handheld blaster. There might be one kicking around in storage, he'd have to check.
Smokescreen turned to face Bulkhead, quickly adding in defense, "Me too!"
Bulkhead quickly shushed them, he heard something. The unknown noise was probably the local wildlife getting spooked by their presence, but better to be safe than sorry. Smokescreen froze at their warning, watching the area with suspicion. At least the rookie was taking things seriously now.
Bulkhead's attention was drawn back to the device as it chirped again, the locator was reading weak meaning the relic was still buried. With any luck that meant they beat the 'cons here.
"What is that..?" Smokescreen murmured as they looked around the area, their doorwings twitching. Before turning to face the steep incline nearby them, "Someone else is here-!"
Bulkhead took his attention away from scanner and turned to where Smokescreen was looking, seeing a familiar flier step into view,
"That is one of the last sounds that you will ever hear!" They announced, flashing an evil grin.
"Dreadwing.." Bulkhead practically growled, as he shifted into a defensive stance.
The decepticon seemed to be done with their boasting, as they transformed and charged towards the duo.
"Scrap-!" Bulkhead cursed as he and Smokescreen quickly dove out of the way, the jet swooped them sending up a harmless whirlwind of dust and leaves. He should have expected it was a bluff charge, Dreadwing liked to do his dirty work from a distance... Bulkhead's eyes widened with realization as he scanned the area, quickly finding bombs latched onto the surrounding trees.
He rushed over to the rookie, pulling them off the ground by the scruff, "We gotta get out of here-Now!" He urged.
Getting Smokescreen onto their feet just in time for a series of explosions ring out behind them, shaking the forest floor. Bulkhead continued to usher his teammate forwards, both of them had their heads on a swivel trying to figure out where the next explosion would come from. The trees and brush were quickly catching on fire, adding to the dangerous obstacles they now had to avoid.
It was a good thing he was keeping Smokescreen in front if him, because the kid suddenly faltered drastically slowing their pace.
Bulkhead quickly put a hand on their back, ushering them to keep moving. Their expression was warped in terror as their wide eyes darted around. He couldn't blame them for being scared, but regardless of the explosions around them they needed to keep moving. It sounded like Dreadwing had set bombs across the entire mountain, the only good thing about that was with the time they had wasted setting this trap it was unlikely they had the chance to search for the relic too.
Smokescreen suddenly stopped, snatching ahold of Bulkhead's arm and sharply pulling him to a halt too, "No, Blue its a trap-!"
They tried to warn, but it was too late. A large explosion sent them both flying forwards, then tumbling down a charred hill before finally coming to rest in a scorched clearing.
Dreadwing landed heavily in front of them, cutting off their continued escape. At least they seemed to have ran out of pre-placed explosives for the time being.
As Bulkhead heaved himself back to his feet, he found Smokescreen was already in a defensive stance, claws out and ready poised for a fight. But their plating was quivering, and their venting was shallow and fast. They were still in fight or flight mode from what they had just narrowly escaped.
"Smoke!" Bulkhead called out, and waited until Smokescreen slowly turned their head to face him, still wide eyed, "I'll handle Dreadwing, go get the relic!" Bulkhead ordered and tossed locator to them.
They snatched it out of the air, staring blankly at the device for a moment before nodding, "You got it."
Thankfully Smokescreen seemed more grounded with the presented task, and they quickly ran off following the scanner.
Dreadwing moved to give chase, but paused when Bulkhead called out to them, "You love doing your dirty work from a distance, don't ya?" He mocked, "Too bad you don't have the ball bearings to fight up close and personal!" He slammed his fist into his palm, emphasizing his words.
That seemed to work, Dreadwing's attention was firmly back on Bulkhead, the relic and Smokescreen forgotten.
"In the particular case, I will be all too happy to make an exception," Dreadwing sneered.
They both lunged forward, closing the space between them. Unfortunately just because Dreadwing preferred to fight from a distance, didn't mean they weren't good at hand to hand combat.
Dreadwing redirected Bulkhead's first attack, pushing him off-balance, during the struggle he felt something clip to his back. He was all too familiar with Dreadwing's tricks-
Bulkhead swung again, narrowly missing the jet as they jumped backwards. Dreadwing brought their fists down on Bulkhead's shoulders. Sparks flew from the impact, but Bulkhead recovered quickly. Rushing Dreadwing and ramming them into a tree, Dreawing responded by clawing at Bulkhead, trying to push him away. Before sharply planting a knee to Bulkhead's gut, followed by a kick that threw them apart.
Bulkhead rushed back into the fight, landing a hit on Dreadwing's faceplate. Before they could recover he transformed out his blaster and fired a shot point blank into the decepticon's chest, sending them crashing backwards through a tree and slamming into a boulder. The rock cracked from the impact and Dreadwing slid to his knees, stunned.
After a moment, they picked themself up from the ground, "An admirable effort, but you obviously forgot how our last encounter ended," Dreadwing coughed as they retrieved a device from their subspace, flicking it open and pressing a button to arm the bomb.
Bulkhead narrowed his eyes, "No I didn't."
It took Dreadwing a moment longer to realize that during their scuffle, Bulkhead had swapped the bomb onto them. They quickly struggled to remove it from their back, managing to pull it off.
But Dreadwing wasn't fast enough, as they tried to throw the explosive away, it had barely left their hand when it blew up.
When the dust cleared Dreadwing had been caught in the blast and thrown onto the charred ground. They were still alive but they wouldn't be able to keep fighting.
He hoped Smokescreen had been successful in locating the relic, Bulkhead called Smokescreen's commlink, "Smoke, I'm on my way,"
.
.
.
It felt weird leaving Bulkhead alone with an opponent, but he had faith in the wrecker's abilities. Besides, if they did have a history it was probably best Smokescreen stayed out of their way while they settled it.
He was having trouble shaking off the panic still gripping his spark like claws in chest, the burning forest had painted an all too familiar scene- hadn't been completely present during the running. Instead seeing flashes of cybertron, his brothers, his past...
Smokescreen tried to ignore the waves of fear still washing over his frame and ran off in the direction he's pretty sure the device was indicating. He couldn't actually understand the flashing symbols on the screen, but the pitch of the device's noises changed. He racked his processor to remember what the scanner sounded like while he and Arcee were tracking down the previous relic.
The forest was a sharp contrast from the desert, full of orange leaves clinging to the trees as well as blanketing the ground. The local songbirds didn't seem overly concerned by his presence, flitting through the foliage as though he wasn't even there. The leaf litter coating the ground let out a large crunch with every step. At least no one would be sneaking up on him, but he wouldn't be able to move silently either.
Finally the device let out a promising trill, indicating the relic was buried right in front of him.
Smokescreen set down the scanner and got to work. His claws weren't exactly built for digging, but it was more efficient than without. It took some time, but finally he unearthed the container. Opening it to reveal another omega key, he wished he could have felt more excited about the success.. but recovering this relic just reminded him how time among the autobots was running out.
Smokescreen twitched his doorwings as the leaf litter on the forest floor alerted him to something moving towards him-
He let out a surprised yelp as something hit him on the back of the head with enough force to make him face plant into the churned up earth.
He quickly righted himself and whipped around to face his attacker- only to find no one was there. He shook off the daze threatening his processor and shifted his stance so he was blocking access to the uncovered relic. He cautiously scanned the area, still unable to locate anyone. Even though he could still hear the crunching of leaf litter around the clearing, tracking it didn't lead him to his enemy.
Smokescreen sniffed the air, picking up a cybertronian scent that he actually recognized- Starscream. But, he still couldn't pinpoint where the mech was. Their scent was spread throughout the area, like they had repeatedly run laps through the clearing. It didn't make any sense, their scent hadn't been in the clearing moments before.. were they here, or not??
Whatever the case, he didn't want to lose another relic to them. But he couldn't defend against an enemy he couldn't locate.
Was there a relic that granted invisibility? He supposed the how didn't really matter, there was no doubt they were after the relic too.
Despite being completely focused on finding his current foe, he was taken off guard by another unseen attack. Smokescreen raised his arms to try and defend against any further attack, only to be punched square in the face. Smokescreen staggered backwards letting out an annoyed snarl- they were just toying with him now.
Smokescreen quickly turned and reached for the relic, it wouldn't matter what trickery they were using if he used some of his own. If he had the key and turned on the phaseshifter, nothing could touch him. Whether he could see them or not.
But as he reached for the relic, suddenly the decepticon's scent was overwhelmingly strong, as though they were standing right next to him. Smokescreen's hand closed around something that wasn't the relic. It seemed Starscream was making a grab for it too, and was going to get to it first-
Smokescreen latched onto whatever he was already in contact with, digging his claws into cybertonian metal, he wouldn't let them get away so easily.
His unseen foe let out a short burst of noise, the sharp call hurt his auditals, making Smokescreen flinch. His arm was suddenly wrenched to the side as the invisible Starscream tried to flee, but Smokescreen held firm.
"I don't think so," Smokescreen growled, tugging them back.
For a moment, he could almost see the blurry form of the decepticon as they tried to wiggle their arm free from his claws. Their movements were erratic and insanely quick. They weren't invisible, he realized, they had somehow been moving too fast to be seen. That wasn't going to be easy to combat- he needed to get back the relic before they could slip free.
But before he could even think to act, something was right in front of his face. His eyes had just enough time to register it was a rocket aimed at his head. Smokescreen had no time to react before the rocket exploded, sending him flying backwards into the rocky earth he had just dug up.
Smokescreen let out a groan as he laid among the loose rocks. Waiting for the stinging pain across his frame to fade.
When he finally pushed himself back to his feet and brushed off the dirt and soot that clung to his frame. Once again, his enemy was gone. Or at least out of sight. He let out a huff, trying to clear his vents. But the charred smell from basically point blank explosion was overpowering his senses, he couldn't even tell if they were still in area.
He looked down at his claws, the relic had practically been in his hand- but they still got away. He had failed. That fact hurt more than he expected it to..
Smokescreen cocked his head, upon closer inspection the energon dripping from his claws wasn't normal... the blue had swirls of red in it. Red energon? Isn't that what Starscream had managed to swipe during their last encounter? Was that how they had been so fast?
"Smokescreen, did you get the relic?" Bulkhead called out as they approached.
"Almost," Smokescreen grumbled, still looking around the area. Even without his keen sense of smell, the seeker was injured, and should be leaving a trail he could track.
"What happened?" Bulkhead asked, looking around the clearing trying to figure out what Smokescreen was searching for.
"Starscream's trying out that red energon he stole," He presented the energon on his claws, "He got the jump on me-" Smokescreen suddenly realized what he had done, immediately pulling his hand back and sheathed his claws.
Bulkhead didn't seem bothered, instead shooting him a smile, "You managed to get a hit on the super-speed seeker? Nice going,"
"I got lucky," Smokescreen deflected their praise, "I think we just reached for the relic at the same time." Unfortunately he hadn't been lucky enough to keep ahold of the relic.
"Either way, him and the key are long gone." Bulkhead shook his head, before activating their commlink, "Ratchet we need a bridge,"
It was then Smokescreen realized he had missed his chance to try and free his own key, though perhaps it was good he hadn't ..or Starscream might have gotten away with two keys instead of just the one.
The groundbridge flickered open nearby, but Smokescreen stiffened, reluctant to approach it. Returning to the autobot base felt dangerous- only one set of coordinates remained, the one he carried.
Bulkhead seemed to notice his hesitation, Smokescreen thought quickly, "I.. I told Optimus I'd return with that key.." he tried, hoping that was explanation enough. There was no way he'd admit why he was really so apprehensive.
Bulkhead put their arm around Smokescreen's shoulders to try and to comfort him, "Listen kid, Alpha Trion said we need all four keys to restore cybertron, remember?" They reasoned, "We just need to hang onto the one we have, and find a way to get the others back,"
Which was worse? Returning to the autobot base, or being stranded in the middle of nowhere with decepticons milling about? Both felt unsafe, but at least he was familiar with the area surrounding the base... And of things went poorly he still had the phaseshifter.
Smokescreen finally relented, taking the chance returning to the autobot base.
Upon their return, he immediately looked over to the base computer where Optimus was diligently typing away. Still decoding the final set of coordinates...
Bulkhead took the lead explaining what went down on the mission. That Dreadwing had set a trap, and Starscream got away with the relic.
"Smokescreen was sucker punched, could have happened to any of us," Bulkhead reasoned as they set a comforting hand onto Smokescreen's shoulder.
This time Smokescreen brushed Bulkhead's hand off his shoulder, "But it didn't."
Normally he'd appreciate the defense, but taking into account the fact Bulkhead had thought he wasn't paying attention when they initially arrived- it felt like more they were pitying him. Earth had alot of wildlife he wasn't familiar with, it had taken him some time to determine what noises were meant to be there. But he has been the first one to locate Dreadwing, and he had noticed Starscream, he just couldn't react fast enough to do anything. He had never dropped his guard, he knew better than that. But he knew he had screwed up the mission, he had still been the one to lose the relic.
"I was the one who blew it," He shook his head before muttering, "Some great warrior I'm turning out to be."
"You still don't get it, do you?" Arcee interjected, "A couple of victories aren't gonna make you a legend. And not every mission results in success."
He understood that, better than they knew. He had long since seen the parallels between these missions and hunting- they had about the same success rates. You only have to catch enough to keep you and your pack going until the next hunt.
"Not for me, not for Bee," She continued as her gaze moved to the autobot leader, Optimus glanced over their shoulder to look at the group as Arcee insisted, "Not even for Optimus. We've gained relics and we've lost some. We've also lost friends. We've even lost a world!"
Arcee turned back to Smokescreen with narrowed eyes, "But this is one time we get a do over, we have a chance to bring back cybertron, and everyone in this room needs to be in sync. This isn't about you, or your destiny."
Smokescreen's shoulders slumped, he knew what it meant to lose one's world- one's family. And he knew he was being selfish, hesitating to hand over the key because he didn't know what the autobots would do, how they would react to.. him.
Optimus Prime turned away from the computer, "Arcee, you've made your point."
"Optimus he needs to hear this." Arcee argued, before turning her attention back to Smokescreen, "You might actually become a great warrior one day, and I sincerely hope that you do. But greatness begins and ends with putting the team first- not your personal scorecard."
He knew that's what it looked like, that all he cared about was himself. It's what his actions had portrayed, but he was trying to be better. To help them without revealing the truth.
"I'm trying-!" Smokescreen began but Arcee cut him off.
"Stop trying to be a hero, and start being an autobot."
Be an autobot. He doesn't even know what that means. And it seems like every time he takes a step in the right direction, he stumbles two steps backwards. Even if he was starting to lower his guard among them, he was still an outsider. Nothing would ever change that. Especially since the next set of coordinates would reveal he was a liar. And given how he had once again managed to garner the autobots ire, he would just end up in a confrontation- he wouldn't be given the chance to try and explain.
Smokescreen's eyes dropped to the floor, what was he even doing? The autobots don't see him as a member of the team. He's tried his best to fit in, but maybe that's just not something he could do. He cautiously chanced a look over to Optimus, but he still couldn't read past their stoic expression.
No one could even tell how hard he was trying, that much was clear by the lack of anyone weighing in for his defense. He looked back to the floor, he was standing in the way of them reclaiming Cybertron- With the modelock he wasn't able to access the key, the only way to get to it now would be to rip him apart. Would the autobots be willing to kill him in order to save their world?
He didn't want to challenge their gazes, maybe looking at them would make him hesitate further.
"You know what?" Smokescreen bristled, "Maybe I'm just not good enough." He turned his back on the autobots, and left the base.
No one came after him. He told himself that wasn't a bad thing, that he didn't want to be followed- he just wanted to be left alone. But the pang of sadness in his spark begged to differ.
He let out frustrated hiss. When it came down to it- he had run. Again. But what was he supposed to do? He didn't want to end up fighting the team.
Smokescreen huffed, honor was so integral to his beliefs- yet he hadn't stuck to his word- he hadn't delivered the key to Optimus Prime.
He didn't doubt that any minute now they would decode the next set of coordinates, and what then? Even if he wanted to keep running, they would be able to track him down no matter where he went.
He longed to not be alone, that his pack had found their way to Earth too... But all the same, he wouldn't wish these circumstances onto his worst enemy.
He still had an ever dwindling amount of time to come clean, but the thought made him feel sick. He feared the outcome would remain the same, whether he told them or left them to finish decoding the entry. He had to make a decision, and soon. Or the decision would be made for him. It practically already had been...
His distressed thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a call to his commlink, "Smokescreen, return to base immediately." Optimus Prime commanded.
Scrap, they knew-! They had to know-!
He didn't respond, pretending as though he hadn't even heard the order. He tried to soothe his panicked thoughts, maybe he was jumping to conclusions too quickly. He tried to reason, they may just be calling him back to base since he had stormed out...
But.. he'd rather play it safe, and assume that they did know- he had to move quickly..
The Nevada desert wasn't an ideal area to try and evade them, there was nowhere to hide. He was beginning to regret leaving the forest. However, there was no changing it now- he needed to put distance between himself and the base.. but it wouldn't matter how far he got with the tracker he was carrying.
Smokescreen stopped walking, and tried to open his subspace again. But the modelock's pull continued to prevent him from moving his plating without pain coursing through his frame. It hurt more than it ever had been before, however the cables had shifted was just getting worse. He let out a displeased hissed, there was nothing he could do. He was going to be hunted again- and this time he was on his own.
The ambient sounds of the desert suddenly fell silent, save for an approaching high pitched whir. Smokescreen turned his head sharply to the sound, discovering some sort of cybertronian drone flying towards him. Smokescreen bristled, he really wasn't in a mood for a fight. Or maybe he was, he had so many churning emotions he could use the excuse to blow off some steam.
He didn't have time to come to a decision, as he was suddenly sent sprawling across the ground by a concussive blast. Pain erupted across his entire frame as he gasped for breath.
His head throbbed as he fought to pick himself off the ground, his auditals had been knocked offline and he could feel his eyes flickering. What had hit him-?
With effort, he looked up to see a lightweight and lanky mech stalking towards him, their face completely obscured by a visor.
Shakily Smokescreen forced himself to his feet, whatever it was they had hit him with- he couldn't afford to be struck by it again.
For being expressionless, his attacker did seem a taken aback that Smokescreen was still able to stand after their attack. It would take a bit more than that to knock him unconscious. Kinda made him wonder how strong the old bot was.. or what he had hit him with.
If the decepticon was speaking, he couldn't hear them. Despite his auditals crackling back online, with the deafening ringing they might as well still be off.
His attacker wasted no time lunging towards Smokescreen. Tendrils snaked out from their frame- Smokescreen faltered, they kind of looked like a sparkeater. He had to guess that was intentional, afterall any regular bot would find it unnerving or scary- but to predacons, sparkeaters were prey.
Smokescreen twisted and dodged. He would prefer not to be in his bot mode when hunting or fighting, as it severely limited his weapon options.. But that didn't mean he was defenseless. He still had his claws, teeth and strength.. all good for close quarters fighting.. but they had a ranged weapon.
If he could find a way to stay out of their reach while remaining close enough they wouldn't use the weapon again, he may have a shot at getting out of here relatively unscathed.
A voice at the back of his mind told him to call for back up, but he pushed aside the thought- he didn't need the autobots. He could take care of himself.
His leg was suddenly pulled out from under him and his head bounced off the rocky earth as he slammed to the ground. Slightly dazed he kicked his leg free and grappled as the decepticon tried to restrain him. He bit down on their arm, metal buckled between his jaws, sending a gush of energon from the wound. He didn't bother suppressing the growl that escaped his throat.
Their grip loosened and he pushed off of Soundwave, skidding backwards. Their visor masked any emotion they might be having...
Well he can be unnerving too. Most bots didn't have the same level of articulation of their plating that predacons did, making their armor's movement look unnatural. Even with the modelock's constant pulling, he still had more mobility than most. He flared his plating and barred his teeth, letting out a harsh snarl.
He clamped his plating tight as Soundwave lunged again. They didn't seem intimidated by his display, but were fighting a bit more carefully. Their strikes were sharper, calculated- it seemed they were trying to quickly finish the fight.
Smokescreen exchanged blows, this fight wasn't for some relic he didn't particularly care the outcome of, this was a fight for survival. And one things for sure- he's a survivor.
He raked his claws across their visor, the glass cracked, then shattered- and Smokescreen froze. A flood of pain coursed through his spark, and his fight with Soundwave suddenly felt far away as a terrible memory played before his eyes...
His smallest packmate in their bot mode, was cornered, hand held firmly covering half of their face, trying to stop the energon flowing freely from under it. Their other hand was held out, a gesture pleading for the approaching bots to stop, to cease their attack-
Smokescreen desperately pushed his way through a growing crowd, trying to reach them through the wall of mechs.
The sounds of his actual surroundings bled into the background, blending in with the clamoring of the thick crowd. He felt his packmate's fear growing in his own spark as angered yells came from the gathering mob, "Predacon! - Monster! - It attacked the Prime! - Kill it!"
He wasn't going to stand by and watch them murder his brother-! He desperately shoved through the crowd, anger flaring in his chest.
Smokescreen was suddenly ripped back to reality as he found himself thrown into the air and through an awaiting portal.
He landed hard on the metallic ground. Before he could get his bearings, the bot was on him again.
Tendril wrapped around his neck, hoisting him into the air. Smokescreen dug his claws into it, trying to pry it off. They responded by slamming him into a wall, then back onto the floor. Smokescreen felt his eyes flicker as he fought to stay conscious. Panic flared in his spark, he was in trouble, he was losing, he needed help-
His panicked thoughts were abruptly cut off as he was slammed into the floor again, the darkness overtook his vision and in his final moment of consciousness, he wished he had called for help.
What gave u the idea of Smokescreen being a Predecon??
Funny story, I originally had an au where Ratchet was secretly a predacon (because he's old lol). I never really wrote that one down, just chatted about it with a friend
I ended up developing an au of that au where Smokescreen was also a predacon
But I wanted to focus on only one secret predacon at a time, deciding to start writing down Smoke's story- and here we are!
I may revisit writing Predacon Ratchet AU at some point, because it was a fun au
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