I tripped on a sock and broke my bed. WTF is this nonsense?
Nine Rings of Vos - Arc Seven: Revelations
A Transformers G1 Fanfiction
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: A tentative truce, a few hints dropped out of left field, and Optimus fumbling around trying to make sense of it all. Whee. Revelations!
Timeline: You can remind yourself what the hell is going on here.
=/=
(In which Optimus has many questions with less time for answers.)
The shuttle had barely held it together through the entry into Earth’s atmosphere. As it was, the Decepticon strike force had waited until the last moment to shoot the already damaged shuttle the rest of the way down. Down... and right into Autobot City. Obviously torqued off about not being able to use the shuttle to walk through the front door the way he had planned, Megatron had instead used the vehicle as a battering ram. The shuttle had toppled several walls in the act of crashing, and Megatron had managed to gain the opportunity to take out key communications towers. There was no way for the Autobots to reactivate the vast majority of the planetary defences. The Decepticons were in.
It was a fairly even battle, to start with. The Autobots had lost the use of their primary defence weapons, but thanks to the warning from the crew of the shuttle the Decepticons no longer had the benefit of overwhelming surprise. Then the second, larger wave of Decepticons attacked, demolishing the outer wall and forcing the Autobots to fall back. The battle was now taking place within the City itself.
Metroplex was not pleased by this.
Jetfyre had managed to teleport the shuttle’s passengers out before the crash, so at least the Autobots had not lost any lives to Megatron’s temper tantrum. Ratchet dragged the wounded to the med-bay, commandeering Jetfyre’s assistance in moving the mechs in stasis lock. Once in the med-bay, the old mech would not be going anywhere, not after nearly killing himself teleporting halfway across the galaxy. Prowl, reluctantly parted from the unconscious Jazz and reassured that Ratchet had it all well in hand, lead the way to the command hub to report.
Once his 2IC had finished his succinct description of the events on the shuttle, Optimus Prime turned to face his former Air Commander.
“Optimus Prime.” Jetfire’s face was hidden behind the familiar battle-mask and visor, an echo of earlier times. Only the unknown symbol he wore in place of the Autobot brand made this moment different from a thousand others where Jetfire had been one of the Autobot Leader’s most trusted advisors. Jetfire seemed to pick up on the Prime’s thoughts, as annoyingly perceptive as ever. The Seeker’s voice was coloured by sympathy and amusement in equal measure. “If you would grant us leave, my team would stand with your forces against Megatron.”
“I am not in the habit of rejecting offers of assistance, Jetfire.” Optimus chose his words slowly, carefully, wondering how many others Starscream had planted among his army. Optimus recognized the gold Seeker glaring pit fire and brimstone at anyone caught staring too long from Bumblebee’s long ago report. Had Jetfire leaving the Autobots been planned, or was it simply another one of the impulsive moves so characteristic of the jet? Optimus would lay credits on the staged deactivation being unplanned, explosion and all. Starscream would not have condoned losing an agent placed as highly as Jetfire had been in the Autobot hierarchy. Musing idly on the identities of the other plants - because Optimus did not doubt that Starscream had arranged for there to be more than one of his agents among the Autobot ranks - Optimus stepped forward and held out his hand. “It is good to see you again, old friend.”
“Same here, Optimus.” As they clasped forearms, Jetfire tilted his head in the way that always let the Autobot Leader know the red jet was smiling behind the battle-mask. “I’m sorry I made you mourn for nothing.”
Optimus shook his head, stepping back. “You are my friend, even if you were keeping secrets. I have no regrets.”
“Touching as this is, we have a battle to fight.” A black Praxian with bladed war-mods growled softly from where he stood close to Prowl. “We need to focus on that.”
“Always mindful of your duty, aren’t you, love?” Smiling faintly, Jetfire fell back into line with the other two Seekers that had followed Prowl into the Hub. “Barricade’s right. We need to win this battle before we have our reunion.”
There was another, older Praxian watching everything with a serene expression standing on Prowl’s other side. Optimus was struck with the thought that Praxus may not have been as survivorless as they had all thought. From the looks of things, Starscream had managed to save more than a few.
“The Decepticon’s have pushed the battle lines forward another bloc in sectors three, eight, and nine!” Red Alert bit the words out, sensor-horns lit up like Las Vegas at midnight, obviously torn between coordinating the security forces and shooting the Seekers invading his Hub in the face. “Prime! We’re losing ground!”
“Enough idle chatter.” The gold Seeker turned to glance at Jetfire, who sighed and nodded. Seeing that gold frame flanked by red and black, Optimus wondered with some self-castigation how he had failed to see the Seeker in Jetfire before now. Optimus’ Air Commander had been prideful enough to contest with Starscream, never willingly submitting to orders without an argument first. Seeing the easy way Jetfire gave the leading role over to the gold Seeker, Optimus wondered what else had been overlooked. That strange amber gaze landed on Optimus for an eternal moment before the gold Seeker grinned, sharp as blades and familiar as sunlight. “Set loose your fledglings on the air, Lord Prime, and let us see how well they dance to the battle-song!”
Optimus could not find his voice. The colours had distracted him, Jetfire’s survival had distracted him, but the resemblance - once realized - was both uncanny and unmistakable. The face, the attitude, it was obvious that the gold mech was kin to Starscream, and Optimus did not know if it was a warning or a sign of respect or both. (Actually, knowing Starscream, it was probably both.) A rippling golden glow lit up the Hub, radiating from the gold and cream armour as the Seeker whirled and bolted out the door. With a whooping laugh, Jetfire moved out hard on the other Seeker’s turbines, even as the swift black shadow of the third jet followed close behind in his turn.
“Sunstorm, hard to port at the next junction, then starboard at the fourth turnoff. You will be three blocks from the battle line. Your exit point will take you through the Decepticon front most line, but they are bunched under cover to avoid grounded fire. You should be able to go right over them. The Autobots are going to be twitchy about wings, so watch out for fire at your afts.” Barricade turned away from the tactical display he had used to direct the trine, ignoring Red Alert’s indignant sputtering and levelling a bland look in the Prime’s direction. “I am certain our temporary allies will inform their troops, but some may not receive the information in time to prevent an unfortunate accident.”
Optimus Prime knew how to take a hint. ‘Friendly fire isn’t’ as the humans liked to say. Having the maybe-brother of the Seeker’s leader shot down from behind would be… bad. Especially if the Autobot’s wanted this truce to last beyond this battle. “Prowl, Red Alert - update the troops. I don’t want the Seekers taking fire from our side.”
“Understood.” Red Alert twitched in glitchy irritation, but triggered an all-channels announcement. The Security Chief kept a wary optic on the Praxian strangers, but having the Seekers out of his immediate sight seemed to be helping him calm down.
While Red Alert was busy following his orders, letting the Autobots at large know of their erstwhile allies, Optimus found himself watching the Praxus mechs again. Only to find them watching him back. Their gazes were weighing, judging, holding hints of approval that may have merely been wishful thinking. Forcing himself to focus, Optimus turned back to the battle displays, fighting back the urge to join his mechs in the fight as soon as possible. Prowl was handling the distribution of the troops, proving once again that he more than lived up to his reputation as the best tactician in Autobot history.
“Sir!” Blaster looked up, optics pale. “Megatron sighted, confirming location now!”
That was his cue. Optimus kept the line to the command hub open as he headed for the Decepticon Commander’s last known location. Prowl and Barricade flanked him, and it added a note of surrealism to see red optics and black armour paired with the familiar chevron and door-wings. (Something about that thought was trying to get his attention, but there was no time to track it down.)
This was a tactic that the Autobots had employed since shortly after Optimus became the Prime in truth. Taking advantage of Megatron’s past as a gladiator, Optimus distracted the warlord with a one-on-one confrontation while a rotating selection of his officers played bodyguard and well-timed distraction. While Optimus and his officers had various pre-approved tactics that were flexible enough to fit various scenarios, Megatron simply declared goals and ordered his soldiers to make it happen. The success rates of Decepticon plans were therefore unpredictable depending on who actually had command of the field. Without the education to back up their combat training and natural destructive talents, it was common for Decepticon Plan B to consist of ‘get a bigger gun’ when opposition arose. Without Megatron to amend his orders, the Autobots could push the Decepticons back. There had been concern that with the limited scope of the Earth-side conflict Megatron would catch on. Megatron’s officers were capable enough team leaders, but they failed to grasp the need for large scale tactics, simply because the Decepticons fought each other almost as much as they fought the Autobots. That lack of cohesive strategy was the only thing that had kept the Autobots from being overrun in the beginning. Starscream had been the rare exception (and hindsight wondered how much worse he could have been) but the Seeker’s orders were rarely heeded and often outright ignored by all but his fellow flyers and whoever he had blackmailed into obedience that cycle.
“Clever, to take advantage of his blind spots this way.” Barricade’s voice was a soft growl, and he slanted an arch look at Prowl. “One of your plans?”
“A simple deduction, supported by psychological profiling.” Prowl hesitated for only a moment, blue optics wary. “As well as a simple tactic. It is habitual at this point, and I doubt Megatron thinks on it overmuch when considering his losses.”
“How did you know?” Optimus could not help but ask. That sort of lightning fast deduction was typical of Praxians. Like Bluestreak’s aim, or Smokescreen with a mark, or a patient, or the moment a distraction would best serve, but the black mech had sussed out Prowl’s thought processes without any background information and a single data point. That was no small thing.
“As the mech said.” There was a sardonic twist to Barricade’s mouth as he faced forward, pulling loose a weapon with a rattle of chain links. “It was a simple deduction.”
Optimus wanted to ask more, wanted to know where Barricade had been trained, why he acted nothing like the Praxians Optimus had known in the past, wanted to know how he had survived the fall of Praxus, what Starscream had promised him to gain his loyalty, but he had run out of time. They had reached the battle line, and war stole all of his attention.
Answers would have to wait for a later that might never come.
=/=
See? I've written Revelations stuff. That should make people happy.
So I had a productive day that mostly involved whinging over everything I have left to do. Stalked the fanfic archives like some sort of rabid tiger looking for good fic I haven't read yet, found one, glutted myself on over 30 chapters of wonderful Summers Clan shenanigans, and then did a lot of pouting when the fic was over and I couldn't find anything else to read. Decided to get my revenge by coming up with a plot for another X-Men AU fic.
... I think I need help. Or at least an intervention.
=/=
HERE THERE BE DRAGONS!! (I want these bugggers to hatch so I can go back to stalking the abandoned cave. There are new breeds I need to catch. Hatch, you buggers!)
♥
♠
♥
♣
♥
♠
♥
♣
♥
A Transformers G1 Fanfiction
Author: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Summary: A tentative truce, a few hints dropped out of left field, and Optimus fumbling around trying to make sense of it all. Whee. Revelations!
Timeline: You can remind yourself what the hell is going on here.
=/=
(In which Optimus has many questions with less time for answers.)
The shuttle had barely held it together through the entry into Earth’s atmosphere. As it was, the Decepticon strike force had waited until the last moment to shoot the already damaged shuttle the rest of the way down. Down... and right into Autobot City. Obviously torqued off about not being able to use the shuttle to walk through the front door the way he had planned, Megatron had instead used the vehicle as a battering ram. The shuttle had toppled several walls in the act of crashing, and Megatron had managed to gain the opportunity to take out key communications towers. There was no way for the Autobots to reactivate the vast majority of the planetary defences. The Decepticons were in.
It was a fairly even battle, to start with. The Autobots had lost the use of their primary defence weapons, but thanks to the warning from the crew of the shuttle the Decepticons no longer had the benefit of overwhelming surprise. Then the second, larger wave of Decepticons attacked, demolishing the outer wall and forcing the Autobots to fall back. The battle was now taking place within the City itself.
Metroplex was not pleased by this.
Jetfyre had managed to teleport the shuttle’s passengers out before the crash, so at least the Autobots had not lost any lives to Megatron’s temper tantrum. Ratchet dragged the wounded to the med-bay, commandeering Jetfyre’s assistance in moving the mechs in stasis lock. Once in the med-bay, the old mech would not be going anywhere, not after nearly killing himself teleporting halfway across the galaxy. Prowl, reluctantly parted from the unconscious Jazz and reassured that Ratchet had it all well in hand, lead the way to the command hub to report.
Once his 2IC had finished his succinct description of the events on the shuttle, Optimus Prime turned to face his former Air Commander.
“Optimus Prime.” Jetfire’s face was hidden behind the familiar battle-mask and visor, an echo of earlier times. Only the unknown symbol he wore in place of the Autobot brand made this moment different from a thousand others where Jetfire had been one of the Autobot Leader’s most trusted advisors. Jetfire seemed to pick up on the Prime’s thoughts, as annoyingly perceptive as ever. The Seeker’s voice was coloured by sympathy and amusement in equal measure. “If you would grant us leave, my team would stand with your forces against Megatron.”
“I am not in the habit of rejecting offers of assistance, Jetfire.” Optimus chose his words slowly, carefully, wondering how many others Starscream had planted among his army. Optimus recognized the gold Seeker glaring pit fire and brimstone at anyone caught staring too long from Bumblebee’s long ago report. Had Jetfire leaving the Autobots been planned, or was it simply another one of the impulsive moves so characteristic of the jet? Optimus would lay credits on the staged deactivation being unplanned, explosion and all. Starscream would not have condoned losing an agent placed as highly as Jetfire had been in the Autobot hierarchy. Musing idly on the identities of the other plants - because Optimus did not doubt that Starscream had arranged for there to be more than one of his agents among the Autobot ranks - Optimus stepped forward and held out his hand. “It is good to see you again, old friend.”
“Same here, Optimus.” As they clasped forearms, Jetfire tilted his head in the way that always let the Autobot Leader know the red jet was smiling behind the battle-mask. “I’m sorry I made you mourn for nothing.”
Optimus shook his head, stepping back. “You are my friend, even if you were keeping secrets. I have no regrets.”
“Touching as this is, we have a battle to fight.” A black Praxian with bladed war-mods growled softly from where he stood close to Prowl. “We need to focus on that.”
“Always mindful of your duty, aren’t you, love?” Smiling faintly, Jetfire fell back into line with the other two Seekers that had followed Prowl into the Hub. “Barricade’s right. We need to win this battle before we have our reunion.”
There was another, older Praxian watching everything with a serene expression standing on Prowl’s other side. Optimus was struck with the thought that Praxus may not have been as survivorless as they had all thought. From the looks of things, Starscream had managed to save more than a few.
“The Decepticon’s have pushed the battle lines forward another bloc in sectors three, eight, and nine!” Red Alert bit the words out, sensor-horns lit up like Las Vegas at midnight, obviously torn between coordinating the security forces and shooting the Seekers invading his Hub in the face. “Prime! We’re losing ground!”
“Enough idle chatter.” The gold Seeker turned to glance at Jetfire, who sighed and nodded. Seeing that gold frame flanked by red and black, Optimus wondered with some self-castigation how he had failed to see the Seeker in Jetfire before now. Optimus’ Air Commander had been prideful enough to contest with Starscream, never willingly submitting to orders without an argument first. Seeing the easy way Jetfire gave the leading role over to the gold Seeker, Optimus wondered what else had been overlooked. That strange amber gaze landed on Optimus for an eternal moment before the gold Seeker grinned, sharp as blades and familiar as sunlight. “Set loose your fledglings on the air, Lord Prime, and let us see how well they dance to the battle-song!”
Optimus could not find his voice. The colours had distracted him, Jetfire’s survival had distracted him, but the resemblance - once realized - was both uncanny and unmistakable. The face, the attitude, it was obvious that the gold mech was kin to Starscream, and Optimus did not know if it was a warning or a sign of respect or both. (Actually, knowing Starscream, it was probably both.) A rippling golden glow lit up the Hub, radiating from the gold and cream armour as the Seeker whirled and bolted out the door. With a whooping laugh, Jetfire moved out hard on the other Seeker’s turbines, even as the swift black shadow of the third jet followed close behind in his turn.
“Sunstorm, hard to port at the next junction, then starboard at the fourth turnoff. You will be three blocks from the battle line. Your exit point will take you through the Decepticon front most line, but they are bunched under cover to avoid grounded fire. You should be able to go right over them. The Autobots are going to be twitchy about wings, so watch out for fire at your afts.” Barricade turned away from the tactical display he had used to direct the trine, ignoring Red Alert’s indignant sputtering and levelling a bland look in the Prime’s direction. “I am certain our temporary allies will inform their troops, but some may not receive the information in time to prevent an unfortunate accident.”
Optimus Prime knew how to take a hint. ‘Friendly fire isn’t’ as the humans liked to say. Having the maybe-brother of the Seeker’s leader shot down from behind would be… bad. Especially if the Autobot’s wanted this truce to last beyond this battle. “Prowl, Red Alert - update the troops. I don’t want the Seekers taking fire from our side.”
“Understood.” Red Alert twitched in glitchy irritation, but triggered an all-channels announcement. The Security Chief kept a wary optic on the Praxian strangers, but having the Seekers out of his immediate sight seemed to be helping him calm down.
While Red Alert was busy following his orders, letting the Autobots at large know of their erstwhile allies, Optimus found himself watching the Praxus mechs again. Only to find them watching him back. Their gazes were weighing, judging, holding hints of approval that may have merely been wishful thinking. Forcing himself to focus, Optimus turned back to the battle displays, fighting back the urge to join his mechs in the fight as soon as possible. Prowl was handling the distribution of the troops, proving once again that he more than lived up to his reputation as the best tactician in Autobot history.
“Sir!” Blaster looked up, optics pale. “Megatron sighted, confirming location now!”
That was his cue. Optimus kept the line to the command hub open as he headed for the Decepticon Commander’s last known location. Prowl and Barricade flanked him, and it added a note of surrealism to see red optics and black armour paired with the familiar chevron and door-wings. (Something about that thought was trying to get his attention, but there was no time to track it down.)
This was a tactic that the Autobots had employed since shortly after Optimus became the Prime in truth. Taking advantage of Megatron’s past as a gladiator, Optimus distracted the warlord with a one-on-one confrontation while a rotating selection of his officers played bodyguard and well-timed distraction. While Optimus and his officers had various pre-approved tactics that were flexible enough to fit various scenarios, Megatron simply declared goals and ordered his soldiers to make it happen. The success rates of Decepticon plans were therefore unpredictable depending on who actually had command of the field. Without the education to back up their combat training and natural destructive talents, it was common for Decepticon Plan B to consist of ‘get a bigger gun’ when opposition arose. Without Megatron to amend his orders, the Autobots could push the Decepticons back. There had been concern that with the limited scope of the Earth-side conflict Megatron would catch on. Megatron’s officers were capable enough team leaders, but they failed to grasp the need for large scale tactics, simply because the Decepticons fought each other almost as much as they fought the Autobots. That lack of cohesive strategy was the only thing that had kept the Autobots from being overrun in the beginning. Starscream had been the rare exception (and hindsight wondered how much worse he could have been) but the Seeker’s orders were rarely heeded and often outright ignored by all but his fellow flyers and whoever he had blackmailed into obedience that cycle.
“Clever, to take advantage of his blind spots this way.” Barricade’s voice was a soft growl, and he slanted an arch look at Prowl. “One of your plans?”
“A simple deduction, supported by psychological profiling.” Prowl hesitated for only a moment, blue optics wary. “As well as a simple tactic. It is habitual at this point, and I doubt Megatron thinks on it overmuch when considering his losses.”
“How did you know?” Optimus could not help but ask. That sort of lightning fast deduction was typical of Praxians. Like Bluestreak’s aim, or Smokescreen with a mark, or a patient, or the moment a distraction would best serve, but the black mech had sussed out Prowl’s thought processes without any background information and a single data point. That was no small thing.
“As the mech said.” There was a sardonic twist to Barricade’s mouth as he faced forward, pulling loose a weapon with a rattle of chain links. “It was a simple deduction.”
Optimus wanted to ask more, wanted to know where Barricade had been trained, why he acted nothing like the Praxians Optimus had known in the past, wanted to know how he had survived the fall of Praxus, what Starscream had promised him to gain his loyalty, but he had run out of time. They had reached the battle line, and war stole all of his attention.
Answers would have to wait for a later that might never come.
=/=
See? I've written Revelations stuff. That should make people happy.
So I had a productive day that mostly involved whinging over everything I have left to do. Stalked the fanfic archives like some sort of rabid tiger looking for good fic I haven't read yet, found one, glutted myself on over 30 chapters of wonderful Summers Clan shenanigans, and then did a lot of pouting when the fic was over and I couldn't find anything else to read. Decided to get my revenge by coming up with a plot for another X-Men AU fic.
... I think I need help. Or at least an intervention.
=/=
HERE THERE BE DRAGONS!! (I want these bugggers to hatch so I can go back to stalking the abandoned cave. There are new breeds I need to catch. Hatch, you buggers!)
♥
♠
♥
♣
♥
♠
♥
♣
♥