Little One 3/?
Title: Little One 3/?
Author: Dreamer's Way
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Warning: Nothing major really, just mentions of Strika/Lugnut action
Summary: While being held within a Decepticon prison cell, Bulkhead has a interesting visitor...
Thanks to P.A.W.07 for being my beta
Standing there, he had many thoughts flowing through his processor. All of those thoughts were so unnaturally dark to his personality and also took to ending with the mech he was speaking to dying. Then again, this was Sentinel he was speaking too. Nobody would last very long with him and his loud-mouth ways. It was times like these that Optimus was a bit surprise that Jazz was so calm and collective around the Prime.
"Optimus, are you paying attention?" demand Sentinel, his face invading the other Prime's personal space.
"Yes, Sentinel," sighed Optimus as he push Sentinel away from him. Sentinel was about to say something about touching him when Optimus took to cutting him off, "Sentinel, we are doing the best we can with the remaining Decepticons. Even with your team's help, we have to face it that these mechs have eons of training under their pedes."
"They are Decepticons; they have no training except on how to use their weapons and their fists," snorted Sentinel.
Optimus found that point to be weak, very, very weak. Sentinel was too blinded by the rules sometimes. He never really could be creative when needed. He seen how Decepticons could act and it wasn't always with their weapons; that was for sure.
"Sentinel, in case you didn't notice, they jumped one of my men when he was by himself with no one near to assistance him," said Optimus before frowning. "Megatron? Shockwave? Starscream, even? Any of those names hitting some circuits in that processor of yours?"
"Okay, a few that would be the exception and those are their high command. All the rest of their troops are thugs down to their programming and that won't change one little bit. They are brutes in their adult frames and I bet they were monsters as sparkling and younglings. No one can change a Decepticon's programming. Once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon?"
Seriously, Sentinel was the only one that got under his plating like this. Clenching his fists, Optimus was about to make a point about Elita and where she was now. She was a Decepticon because of them, but she was at first an Autobot. Optimus doubted she was a true Decepticon. He knew the Autobot femme he had been friends with was still inside that shell. She just had to see it didn't matter if she was techno-organic or not. She was still Elita-One in his optics. Biting his glossa, Optimus held back the truth of their friend to spare Sentinel his last memories of her when Ratchet came walking into the room.
"Enough of sparkling bricking! We have more important things to worry about than which one of you can kick the other's aft plate around the room," the medic said, looking towards the two young mechs.
Backing off, Optimus nodded his head towards Ratchet. He was correct in that as they had more important things to worry about and fighting with Sentinel. Fighting would actually weaken them if one or both Primes were out of commission due to a fist fight. It was bound to happen sooner to later.
"What are we going to do about Bulkhead?!" cried out Bumblebee. The young Autobot was taking it much harder than the rest of them. He felt that this was his fault again. Like before, he had left Bulkhead alone and now his friend was kidnapped again! All Bee wanted to do was check up on Sari and Bulkhead said he didn't mind patrolling by himself. Sitting on the yellow Autobot's shoulder, Sari patted him in an attempted to comfort him some.
"Don't blame yourself Bee," she said, "They were after him and you know Decepticons would do anything to get what they want."
"I could have done something!" he explained.
"What could you do? Bulkhead barely lasted ten minutes, no doubt they would have gave you the same treatment, maybe even offlined you," said Sari, fighting back the tears at the thought. He almost died once already. Silence grip the group after her statement before anyone dared to speak again.
"What we are going to do is find out why the Decepticons want him again," pointed out Prowl with a frown of his own.
"Isn't like what you said, that the Big Green is an expert on Spacebridges. Maybe the Cons think he can help them bring back Megatron," commented Jazz, speaking the thought that they were all thinking.
No one there understood the whole theory behind spacebridges. Ratchet knew more than the rest of them but even he didn't have the skills that Bulkhead did. Was is possible to track someone through the bridge? Bring them back through one? Who knew?
"That is the only reason I can think of that makes sense," sighed Optimus as he walked over to the computer and took to bring up some news crew's footage of the battle, "Right now, I want to know who we are dealing with. Anyone?"
There on the screen was a clear shoot of Bulkhead being attacked by two mechs. Bulkhead was clearly outmatch in skill as he took to being on the defence as the smaller mech with some type of jar on his head took to whipping at Bulkhead some kind of chain and moved with a fluidity that they had only seen Prowl or Jazz achieved. The other mech had to be the 'muscle' of the two. Whenever Bulkhead was able to throw his wrecking-ball, this mech could grabbed it and turn it around on the Autobot with a greater force. It was ugly to see the green mech stand up to the Con's physical force and sent flying backwards into the ground by his own fist.
"Well, I known that ugly mech," grumbled Ratchet as he took to freezing the footage on the smaller Decepticon.
"Same here, mechs," said Jazz, with the same tone of dislike as Ratchet. "That's Oilslick. Master Yoketron use to trained him, but he fell out to the Decepticons and was expelled. Though he didn't finish his training -officially- no doubt he could be the most skill cyberninja out there."
"Not to mention a sparkless, insane mech," said Ratchet as he glanced to the group. "I trust you all heard about Comic Rust?"
"Yeah, of course," replied Optimus. "The first contact with the virus it took to wiping out Autobot and Decepticon forces within moments of contact and is extremely contagious. No known survivors were recorded."
"Like slag," growled Ratchet in a huff. "There were two, myself and that bit-brain. Records of the event were blacked-out for some fragging reason. Either way, he created it and felt no mercy in having killed his own allies during his test run."
"That makes him even more of a threat," said Optimus with a sigh.
"We have to do something! Bulkhead is in trouble!' demand Bumblebee, "Lets use that guard ship and shoot them down!"
"We are not using an official Elite Guard ship just to save some repair bot," said Sentinel with a sneer.
"He not some repair bot!" screamed Bumblebee, ready to attack Sentinel, if Jazz didn't take to holding the minibot. "He is our friend, you pompous slagger!!!"
As the shouting match between the two Autobots grew louder and the chances of it becoming violent grew, Optimus shook his head in displeasure. This was growing out of hand and he wondered how they were going to save Bulkhead at this rate.
Or if their rescues mission would be nothing more than a chance to received the body.
~*~
"Someone might tell me why the slag we ain't ditchin' the Autobot's body?"
Blackout was lying in a seat in the middle of what he had label as the 'Wreck' room of their ship. It was the main area where the crew could come and take their breaks. There was a energon despensiver on the side of the wall and monitors for their own personal business on the other wall. Right now himself and Oilslick were having their energon rations. Spittor was in there as well, but was recharging in his own filth in the corner. There was no point in counting him anyway. In fact, really no one counted him until the time for fighting came up.
Oilslick arched an optic towards the large Con, "You do not recognized him?" he asked.
"Should I?"
"Surprising since you already met him once."
"Huh?"
The Decepticon chemist sighed. It seemed he would have to explain this to his much slower ally, "The Autobot you are wishing to destroy is actually Strika's sparkling."
It only took a few astro-seconds for it to dawn on Blackout. He sprayed out his energon from his mouth and all over the table and Oilslick. The chemist was not pleased as he took out one of his polish cloths to wipe his helmet clean, "Really, did you have to do that?"
"Strika's sparkin'! As in Lugnut and her..." he said before grabbing his head and banging it on the table. "I do not need that image in my processor."
Chuckling a bit, Oilslick put his cloth away, "They are only mechs and femmes with needs like everyone else."
"I still don't like it,' growled Blackout, "But how was I suppose to know? Last time I saw the little tyke you were sending him off to Cybertron....and he wasn't such a goodie."
"Well, I anticipate that the Autobots are to blame for that as they raided the place we sent him too and some other energon farmers found him. They must have raised him as their own without telling anyone. You know how some Autobots are with anyone with red optics, reported them straight to the Elite Guard," said Oilslick.
"I can't believe Strika just risked our hides like that for an Autobot," mumbled Blackout. "I thought we were here to get Lugnut."
"I believe that will come later once she believes their creation will side with us. Lugnut would be shocked and demand his head if this does not happen," sighed Oilslick as he spotted the welcoming sight of Cyclonus entering the Wreck room, making his way to gather a cube, "Ah Cyclonus, pray tell us, what do you think of our beloved commander's actions as of late."
The silence mech glanced over to the other Decepticons with that stock-still look on his face as he gathered his own cube. That was his nature. He kept to himself without much of a comment, much to Oilslick's carnage as he would offend try to get some reaction out of the much younger mech in many different ways without success. Maybe the idea of an Autobot aboard their ship would finally be something to break the ice and he could get closer to the Sweep.
"It is a wise move," said Cyclonus as he finally spoke.
"Really? Ya think her risking our aft for a Bot is a good idea?" asked Blackout, glaring toward Cyclonus than Oilslick. "You're nuts, your both nuts."
"And what about me, Blackout? You think I am nuts?"
The three mechs turned around and looked at the fearsome form of their commander, Strika, stepping into the room. The three of them stood to attention as Spittor continue to recharge away in his filth. Narrowing down her optics, Strika gazed around the more attentive mechs as she came in. Her stare came to a focus on Blackout as he stood there, trying to make optic contact with her face.
"In case you don't realized Blackout, without protoforms and the Allspark, our numbers are lacking," she spoke, jabbing her finger into his chest. "Cyclonus is, in fact, one of our youngest Decepticons. We are dying and the needed to stretch our few numbers to the far reaches of space to battle the Autobot forces is not doing us any good. We need Scavenger by our side."
"Ah though his name was Bulkh-"stirred up Spittor. He picked some time to speak up as rage appeared in Strika's face. Blackout and Oilslick backed up and Cyclonus stood there as she reached for the table they were using and chuck it at the toad 'former. Spittor crash against the wall, stuck between it and the table that was digging into his body.
"That isn't his name, we shall not call him as such," she hissed out before turning to the others. "Oilslick, go to the medical bay and prepare for Scavenger. I want to know what to do to fix him. Cyclonus, you shall bring him there."
The two mechs gave her a salute as she left the room.
Author: Dreamer's Way
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Warning: Nothing major really, just mentions of Strika/Lugnut action
Summary: While being held within a Decepticon prison cell, Bulkhead has a interesting visitor...
Thanks to P.A.W.07 for being my beta
Standing there, he had many thoughts flowing through his processor. All of those thoughts were so unnaturally dark to his personality and also took to ending with the mech he was speaking to dying. Then again, this was Sentinel he was speaking too. Nobody would last very long with him and his loud-mouth ways. It was times like these that Optimus was a bit surprise that Jazz was so calm and collective around the Prime.
"Optimus, are you paying attention?" demand Sentinel, his face invading the other Prime's personal space.
"Yes, Sentinel," sighed Optimus as he push Sentinel away from him. Sentinel was about to say something about touching him when Optimus took to cutting him off, "Sentinel, we are doing the best we can with the remaining Decepticons. Even with your team's help, we have to face it that these mechs have eons of training under their pedes."
"They are Decepticons; they have no training except on how to use their weapons and their fists," snorted Sentinel.
Optimus found that point to be weak, very, very weak. Sentinel was too blinded by the rules sometimes. He never really could be creative when needed. He seen how Decepticons could act and it wasn't always with their weapons; that was for sure.
"Sentinel, in case you didn't notice, they jumped one of my men when he was by himself with no one near to assistance him," said Optimus before frowning. "Megatron? Shockwave? Starscream, even? Any of those names hitting some circuits in that processor of yours?"
"Okay, a few that would be the exception and those are their high command. All the rest of their troops are thugs down to their programming and that won't change one little bit. They are brutes in their adult frames and I bet they were monsters as sparkling and younglings. No one can change a Decepticon's programming. Once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon?"
Seriously, Sentinel was the only one that got under his plating like this. Clenching his fists, Optimus was about to make a point about Elita and where she was now. She was a Decepticon because of them, but she was at first an Autobot. Optimus doubted she was a true Decepticon. He knew the Autobot femme he had been friends with was still inside that shell. She just had to see it didn't matter if she was techno-organic or not. She was still Elita-One in his optics. Biting his glossa, Optimus held back the truth of their friend to spare Sentinel his last memories of her when Ratchet came walking into the room.
"Enough of sparkling bricking! We have more important things to worry about than which one of you can kick the other's aft plate around the room," the medic said, looking towards the two young mechs.
Backing off, Optimus nodded his head towards Ratchet. He was correct in that as they had more important things to worry about and fighting with Sentinel. Fighting would actually weaken them if one or both Primes were out of commission due to a fist fight. It was bound to happen sooner to later.
"What are we going to do about Bulkhead?!" cried out Bumblebee. The young Autobot was taking it much harder than the rest of them. He felt that this was his fault again. Like before, he had left Bulkhead alone and now his friend was kidnapped again! All Bee wanted to do was check up on Sari and Bulkhead said he didn't mind patrolling by himself. Sitting on the yellow Autobot's shoulder, Sari patted him in an attempted to comfort him some.
"Don't blame yourself Bee," she said, "They were after him and you know Decepticons would do anything to get what they want."
"I could have done something!" he explained.
"What could you do? Bulkhead barely lasted ten minutes, no doubt they would have gave you the same treatment, maybe even offlined you," said Sari, fighting back the tears at the thought. He almost died once already. Silence grip the group after her statement before anyone dared to speak again.
"What we are going to do is find out why the Decepticons want him again," pointed out Prowl with a frown of his own.
"Isn't like what you said, that the Big Green is an expert on Spacebridges. Maybe the Cons think he can help them bring back Megatron," commented Jazz, speaking the thought that they were all thinking.
No one there understood the whole theory behind spacebridges. Ratchet knew more than the rest of them but even he didn't have the skills that Bulkhead did. Was is possible to track someone through the bridge? Bring them back through one? Who knew?
"That is the only reason I can think of that makes sense," sighed Optimus as he walked over to the computer and took to bring up some news crew's footage of the battle, "Right now, I want to know who we are dealing with. Anyone?"
There on the screen was a clear shoot of Bulkhead being attacked by two mechs. Bulkhead was clearly outmatch in skill as he took to being on the defence as the smaller mech with some type of jar on his head took to whipping at Bulkhead some kind of chain and moved with a fluidity that they had only seen Prowl or Jazz achieved. The other mech had to be the 'muscle' of the two. Whenever Bulkhead was able to throw his wrecking-ball, this mech could grabbed it and turn it around on the Autobot with a greater force. It was ugly to see the green mech stand up to the Con's physical force and sent flying backwards into the ground by his own fist.
"Well, I known that ugly mech," grumbled Ratchet as he took to freezing the footage on the smaller Decepticon.
"Same here, mechs," said Jazz, with the same tone of dislike as Ratchet. "That's Oilslick. Master Yoketron use to trained him, but he fell out to the Decepticons and was expelled. Though he didn't finish his training -officially- no doubt he could be the most skill cyberninja out there."
"Not to mention a sparkless, insane mech," said Ratchet as he glanced to the group. "I trust you all heard about Comic Rust?"
"Yeah, of course," replied Optimus. "The first contact with the virus it took to wiping out Autobot and Decepticon forces within moments of contact and is extremely contagious. No known survivors were recorded."
"Like slag," growled Ratchet in a huff. "There were two, myself and that bit-brain. Records of the event were blacked-out for some fragging reason. Either way, he created it and felt no mercy in having killed his own allies during his test run."
"That makes him even more of a threat," said Optimus with a sigh.
"We have to do something! Bulkhead is in trouble!' demand Bumblebee, "Lets use that guard ship and shoot them down!"
"We are not using an official Elite Guard ship just to save some repair bot," said Sentinel with a sneer.
"He not some repair bot!" screamed Bumblebee, ready to attack Sentinel, if Jazz didn't take to holding the minibot. "He is our friend, you pompous slagger!!!"
As the shouting match between the two Autobots grew louder and the chances of it becoming violent grew, Optimus shook his head in displeasure. This was growing out of hand and he wondered how they were going to save Bulkhead at this rate.
Or if their rescues mission would be nothing more than a chance to received the body.
~*~
"Someone might tell me why the slag we ain't ditchin' the Autobot's body?"
Blackout was lying in a seat in the middle of what he had label as the 'Wreck' room of their ship. It was the main area where the crew could come and take their breaks. There was a energon despensiver on the side of the wall and monitors for their own personal business on the other wall. Right now himself and Oilslick were having their energon rations. Spittor was in there as well, but was recharging in his own filth in the corner. There was no point in counting him anyway. In fact, really no one counted him until the time for fighting came up.
Oilslick arched an optic towards the large Con, "You do not recognized him?" he asked.
"Should I?"
"Surprising since you already met him once."
"Huh?"
The Decepticon chemist sighed. It seemed he would have to explain this to his much slower ally, "The Autobot you are wishing to destroy is actually Strika's sparkling."
It only took a few astro-seconds for it to dawn on Blackout. He sprayed out his energon from his mouth and all over the table and Oilslick. The chemist was not pleased as he took out one of his polish cloths to wipe his helmet clean, "Really, did you have to do that?"
"Strika's sparkin'! As in Lugnut and her..." he said before grabbing his head and banging it on the table. "I do not need that image in my processor."
Chuckling a bit, Oilslick put his cloth away, "They are only mechs and femmes with needs like everyone else."
"I still don't like it,' growled Blackout, "But how was I suppose to know? Last time I saw the little tyke you were sending him off to Cybertron....and he wasn't such a goodie."
"Well, I anticipate that the Autobots are to blame for that as they raided the place we sent him too and some other energon farmers found him. They must have raised him as their own without telling anyone. You know how some Autobots are with anyone with red optics, reported them straight to the Elite Guard," said Oilslick.
"I can't believe Strika just risked our hides like that for an Autobot," mumbled Blackout. "I thought we were here to get Lugnut."
"I believe that will come later once she believes their creation will side with us. Lugnut would be shocked and demand his head if this does not happen," sighed Oilslick as he spotted the welcoming sight of Cyclonus entering the Wreck room, making his way to gather a cube, "Ah Cyclonus, pray tell us, what do you think of our beloved commander's actions as of late."
The silence mech glanced over to the other Decepticons with that stock-still look on his face as he gathered his own cube. That was his nature. He kept to himself without much of a comment, much to Oilslick's carnage as he would offend try to get some reaction out of the much younger mech in many different ways without success. Maybe the idea of an Autobot aboard their ship would finally be something to break the ice and he could get closer to the Sweep.
"It is a wise move," said Cyclonus as he finally spoke.
"Really? Ya think her risking our aft for a Bot is a good idea?" asked Blackout, glaring toward Cyclonus than Oilslick. "You're nuts, your both nuts."
"And what about me, Blackout? You think I am nuts?"
The three mechs turned around and looked at the fearsome form of their commander, Strika, stepping into the room. The three of them stood to attention as Spittor continue to recharge away in his filth. Narrowing down her optics, Strika gazed around the more attentive mechs as she came in. Her stare came to a focus on Blackout as he stood there, trying to make optic contact with her face.
"In case you don't realized Blackout, without protoforms and the Allspark, our numbers are lacking," she spoke, jabbing her finger into his chest. "Cyclonus is, in fact, one of our youngest Decepticons. We are dying and the needed to stretch our few numbers to the far reaches of space to battle the Autobot forces is not doing us any good. We need Scavenger by our side."
"Ah though his name was Bulkh-"stirred up Spittor. He picked some time to speak up as rage appeared in Strika's face. Blackout and Oilslick backed up and Cyclonus stood there as she reached for the table they were using and chuck it at the toad 'former. Spittor crash against the wall, stuck between it and the table that was digging into his body.
"That isn't his name, we shall not call him as such," she hissed out before turning to the others. "Oilslick, go to the medical bay and prepare for Scavenger. I want to know what to do to fix him. Cyclonus, you shall bring him there."
The two mechs gave her a salute as she left the room.