( @quibble-auk wow look at me go, I decided to tackle all my worms at once. So now we have two blurbs!!! This is just part one, because I am tired and I realized Im actually setting up a scene so its a lot more writing than I usually do lol. I copy it here though and I doesn't look like very much...Oh well.)
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Comet had a bad feeling. It sunk and ached in his stomach as he crept along the lines. Dust whispered past in long drawls as he walked. The Pretender’s destination, an outpost beyond the melted outer reaches of a dead cybertronian city. Jazz had sent him with orders to watch and report. Turns out one of the saboteur’s blood bugs had hissed a big import would soon be passing through said outpost.
Comet had of course hated the idea of being sent out. Sneaking past guards and dodging sensors came almost naturally, that wasn’t the part he hated. It was that he knew if he got killed the visored mech wouldn’t even send for his body. If he was captured he was on his own. That's what Jazz had told him the day he was “recruited”.
Prowl had been there, the cold creature unmoving and lacking in any expression that wasn't a disappointed scowl. “You have no choice in the matter, you yourself are not a cybertronian. You came to the planet bypassing laws, you are an invasive species with no rights to speak of. You being sentient,” Prowl had said the word as if it was a false coin, worth nothing except the lie it could tell. Comet decided he hated Prowl,”does not protect you from being exterminated as though we were not at war. As foreign organism laws dictate.” Their laws were like that of a rotting corpse. They may have held the face of a living thing, but they stank and bled diseased principles. These same creatures who lived under such laws, culled cubs and bred mechs just to kill for the pleasure of the few. Comet hated them. He wanted to kill them.
Jazz had been lounging with his pedes on his desk, relaxed and unbothered that he had by all means chained Comet to himself. As a tool.
“Its not that bad Prowl,” He was lying to shed himself in a softer light, couldn't afford a grudge, “You’ll be treated like one of my..associates, a scout with less paperwork. My apprentice in title Cometeater. You’re just an ex gladiator who is very gifted in reconnaissance.” It wasn’t a statement. Comet had felt his plating rise and teeth grind, Jazz was offering him a story. An opening in which Comet’s secret never left the room, he just had to help the Autobot cause. Be a dog.
Comet growled angrily to himself as he leapt through what was once a tower of some kind, its skeleton broken and on its side. It was a large structure, perfect for hiding and getting ground covered with less danger of eyes catching him.
When he was on a mission he needed to focus. Any anger toward Jazz and Prowl redistributed into his muscles and eyes. Once he was done, he could go home. Comet stopped on the outer support of the crippled tower, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. Home.
The warm thought was shattered by the sudden scream in his mind. Comet ducked down and into the building without a sound. Slinking along the shadows of the columns, he bared his teeth.
They tore past in thrumming shifts of their engines, they were slowing down.
Comet cursed and lowered himself farther into the rubble, watching as the seekers gave way to another flyer. A transport. It was a hideously large transport, cutting down from the atmosphere flanked by more than a dozen seekers. Escorts.
With aching eyes he took note of how its wings readied itself for landing, flying over him and out toward the edges of the ruins. Jazz’ tip had been right, whatever those seekers were guarding in that ship had to be important. Comet cautiously began to pick toward the edge of the city, only stopping once when the seekers made a patrol around the city’s skies. Not giving off a spark signature probably saved Comet’s skin from being found, his organic warmth not really noticeable on scanners. More likely to be a hot spot or burn mark on the ground than a living thing.
So without a backward turn the patrol circled beyond the horizon and back toward, what Comet assumed, their charge.
Within the next two hours the edge of the city was in view, and an old port. Docked within its decrepit stalls was the transport.
Comet groaned in realization. How much of the city was crawling with them? The underground maintenance for the dock’s storage might be filled with who knows what. Cometeater moved in on the decepticon run port slowly. He knew the closer he got, the more dangerous it would be to get overzealous. Soon he found a perch with enough of a visual he could keep tabs on the port, and the transport.
He slipped his claws up to his com, the thin collar blended in with his flesh far too well for his liking. But it was that or an implanted communicator. The last thing Comet needed was Jazz’s voice in his head all the time. With a tap the line was open, he let out a low chirp into the com.
Comet, settled cautiously along the inner barrier of an old tower, the uppermost floor gone leaving the second to last without a roof on its left side. He felt his skin buzz with information as he kept tense, he had learned quickly to never relax when within spitting distance of the enemy.
“Line clear, Cougar, report?”
“Docks north edge, occupied, large thick armored bird landed with escorts. Assumed maintenance hives are also occupied.”
“Upper left docking station, unloading of..” Comet squinted, coaxing his eyes to dilate and shift to make out the cargo. “Equipment, resources for an extended occupation. A hundred head crew, a flock and a half of armed escorts, and two hundred armed bodies.”
Comet huffed his armor fluffing at the sheer size and quantity of the operation. This was far more than an outpost, it looked like the bones of a base of operations. That wasn’t good.
Shifting forward, Comet frowned, a large group was exiting the transport. In a few blinks the pretender’s cells within his eyes shifted and split, the view becoming clear and enlarged. Comet felt bile rise in his throat. With what he knew had to be a general, the top dog of the infantile base, was a tall mech. Larger than all of the able bodied cons. Comet hated that he recognized her.
Sunrazor was an officer on the base.
Comet sighed deeply, that was the last thing he needed right now. That mech had an uncanny ability to find him, to scent him.
“Roger Meister, there's more to this.”
“Big names, a general. Mech matches the description of Innertoil, he has a gaggle of officers. Sunrazor among them.”
….Comet hoped Jazz would tell him to leave the area and a team would be sent to gut the base, but he knew for a fact no one else would be able to get in the area again once the Decepticons set up shop. Sunrazor would be a huge factor in the saboteur deciding against such action. The mech had caused more fatalities than was mentionable, a jinx on any operation. Comet almost wished he had not said a word about Sunrazor, as the radio silence stretched. Jazz knew Comet was a target of her’s, makes a good distraction doesn't it?
“Word has been sent Cougar, your orders are to remain and observe the target. If the situation changes you are to report, understood?”
The com line cut with a thin tap.
Comet forced a deep breath, eyes not leaving the port, and began to move himself to another perch.