TF (OC): Searchin’
Rating: PG
Series: G1
Summary: This is the back-story for my OC Tracer. Tracer finds out first-hand that the Decepticons know of her presence on Earth. And gets a chance for revenge against Skywarp, but doesn’t factor in Starscream.
Warnings: Just a few bad words and a bit of fluff.
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten… Tracer belongs to me… as do Kicker and Rollback
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Authors Notes: I like Bluestreak, really I do. I think he’s adorable.
Searchin' Part One
Searchin' Part Two
Searchin' Part Three
Searchin' Part Four
Searchin' Part Five
Searchin' Part Six
Searchin' Part Seven
Searchin' Part Eight
Searchin' Part Nine
Searchin' Part Ten
Searchin' Part Eleven
Searchin' Part Twelve
Searchin' Part Thirteen
Tracer found herself enjoying the relaxed atmosphere on Earth. The plentiful supply of energy meant that life was easier. There wasn’t the desperate race to survive, instead there was time to relax and enjoy this new planet they now called home. Of course there were still patrols to be organised and communication channels to be monitored. The Decepticons were masters at treachery, luring the Autobots into a false sense of security before striking. Blaster monitored the communication channels, overseen by Red Alert. Hound organised the patrols and Prowl devised strategies for the inevitable attack by the Decepticons.
Watching the group sent out to deal with the Decepticons return to the Ark, Tracer actually counted herself lucky that she wasn’t often sent out to help. Megatron had retreated (yet again as Brawn informed her), but the Autobots had still been left with injuries; ranging from minor dents and scrapes to more extreme injuries. Tracer soon found herself helping out in the repair bay, running to and from the supply cupboards as more parts were needed. Thankfully, none of the injuries were serious, though hearing Ratchet ranting, one wouldn’t necessarily think so.
What it did mean was that patrols and duty shifts had to be hastily rearranged while the injured recovered. Which was how Tracer found herself patrolling with Bluestreak.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Bluestreak, it was more the fact that he was talkative. Overly talkative and Tracer had very sensitive audios. Since she had come to Earth, she had learnt that there were a few mechs whose presence off duty she should avoid; Blaster, Jazz, Bluestreak and surprisingly Seaspray, to name a few.
So far, their patrol (and Bluestreak) had been quiet; whether the Decepticons just weren’t interested in the area they were patrolling, or were still recovering from their own injuries, Tracer didn’t know, but she was grateful for the fact.
They were travelling along a mountain road; Tracer in the lead as her alt-mode suited the terrain better than Bluestreak’s Datsun alt-mode, when Tracer started getting Decepticon energy signatures on the edge of her sensors. She had enough time to tell Bluestreak and start radioing the information back to the Ark when three jets flew overhead.
“Tracer to Ark, we’ve got Decepticons… slag!” She broke off the transmission as the jets turned and laid down a stream of laser fire in their direction. Swerving frantically, she managed to avoid most of the laser fire and Bluestreak until a lucky shot caught her front right tire, sending her sliding out of a control and to a halt, cursing frantically. Transforming, she scanned the skies, before bringing her rifle to bear at the nearest jet. Which just happened to be Skywarp. Thoughts of sweet revenge filled her processor as she fired awkwardly, the deflated tire on her shoulder impacting more than she thought it would. She could hear the distinctive crack of Bluestreak’s rifle as he fired, bringing down Thundercracker with ease. Her own shot had only clipped Skywarp’s wing, but he had spiralled out beyond her sensor range, so she assumed he was down.
“What now?” She asked cycling air heavily as her internal repair systems started work on repairing the damage to her shoulder. Bluestreak shook his head, before glancing up at the sky at the same time as Tracer. They had both heard Starscream coming in low, his laugh echoing in their audios as he released several cluster bombs in their direction. Thinking on his feet, Bluestreak grabbed Tracer, throwing them both to the ground and trying to shield her from the blast.
The explosion was so close that it overloaded Tracer’s sensitive audios, rendering them temporarily offline. Which meant she didn’t hear the rocks and debris hitting their chassis, or the whine of metal as pieces carved their way through Bluestreak’s door wings to land on the ground next to her. She didn’t hear his muffled grunts as each rock impacted on his chassis, nor his cries as they tore through his door wings.
The first sound she could hear when her audios onlined again was the sound of Bluestreak cycling air heavily above her. He was still supporting himself with his hands, but just barely. They had enough time to stagger to their feet before Starscream landed in front of them, a mocking smile on his faceplates.
“Well well, Laserbeak was right. Optimus Prime does have a femme amongst his ranks. How do you pay for your keep little one?” He asked, the sneer present in both his tone and face. Bluestreak stepped in front of Tracer, protecting her, not heeding the tremble that ran through his chassis as he moved.
“Back off Starscream.”
“Hah. I’m not intimidated by the likes of you Autobrat.” Sweeping his arm in front of him, he knocked Bluestreak to the ground. The gunner didn’t move, lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. By the time Starscream returned his attention to her, Tracer had her rifle out and pointed in his direction.
“Did the mechs not teach you that little femmes shouldn’t play with guns?” He asked, levelling his null ray at her. They stared at one another, each not willing to make the first move. Tracer barely had time to recognise the energy signatures that appeared on the edge of her sensors before she caught the sound of high-performance engines. Starscream took advantage of her momentary distraction to take a step towards her, forcing her to step backwards.
“Little Autobot too scared to fire?” He taunted.
“She might be, but I’m not!” Reflexively, they both turned to look at the sound of the voice, Tracer relaxing slightly at the sight of the two Lamborghinis figuratively flying along the road. Instinctively stepping back, she saw Sideswipe transform and launch his shoulder missile at Starscream. Starscream didn’t have quite enough time to react, only managing to twist so the missile didn’t hit him square on. Damage was still done though and he ran, futilely trying to escape the Lamborghini warriors until he could recover enough to transform and fly away. Sunstreaker tore after him only to slide to a stop as Starscream managed to transform and fly away.
As soon as Starscream’s attention was away from her, Tracer turned to Bluestreak, rapidly calling on long-unused field medic procedures to assess him. Kneeling, she checked the damage, moving aside damaged wiring to check for spark-threatening leaks.
“Is he..?” Sideswipe asked almost reluctantly.
“He’s just in stasis. Too much damage, but I expect he’ll be fine. We just need to get him back to the Ark.” She answered, still running her hands over his chassis.
“Why the slag didn’t you fire?” Tracer looked up from Bluestreak’s prone chassis to see an irate Sunstreaker standing behind her.
“I…” She trailed off, not really having an answer to give the warrior.
“Lay off the kid Sunny.”
“Don’t call me that.” Tracer ignored their bickering and radioed the Ark, confirming their location and that a medic was required for transport back to the Ark.
“Ratchet’s on his way.” She announced during a pause in the Twin’s pseudo-argument.
“Good. What happened?” Sideswipe asked. “We didn’t get told much, only that you and Blue were in trouble and you needed help.”
“We were just patrolling, then I sensed the Seekers. I had enough time to warn Bluestreak and start radioing the Ark before I got cut off.”
“Hence that.” Sunstreaker queried, poking the deflated tire on her shoulder.
“Ow. Yes.” She twisted away from his touch, stumbling before Sideswipe reached out to steady her. “They attacked, we tried to defend ourselves. We hit Thundercracker and Skywarp, but then Starscream decided to drop a few cluster bombs on us.”
“At which point our brave gunner here decides to protect you.” Sideswipe commented, one hand gently stroking the edge of Bluestreak’s door wing.
“Yeah…” Tracer paused, quickly assessing the situation and stepping back. “I’m sorry, I mean I didn’t ask him too, but he’s bigger than me and I couldn’t hear a thing and…” She stopped when Sunstreaker gave a strangled laugh, narrowing her optics and staring up at him. “What?”
“You’re rambling just like him.” Sunstreaker explained, affection creeping into his vocaliser.
“Besides, we know you didn’t mean for him to do that. Stupid aft would do it all over again too.” They lapsed into silence, Sideswipe crouching down next to Bluestreak while Sunstreaker remained standing, keeping an optic out for trouble.
“Here comes Ratchet… and Red Alert.” She winced as she announced the Security Director’s presence, knowing that his presence was not a good thing.
“Why do I feel we’re gonna get a lecture?” Sideswipe muttered.
“We were just the rescue. She’s going to get the lecture.” Resolutely trying to ignore Sunstreaker’s jibe, Tracer began pacing, nervously awaiting Ratchet and Red Alert’s arrival.
Once Ratchet arrived on the scene, things happened very quickly. Tracer told him what she’d already done to help Bluestreak and he gave a curt nod before transforming and ordering Sideswipe to get him inside.
“What happened?” Red Alert stood next to Tracer, watching as Sideswipe carefully loaded Bluestreak into the back of the ambulance.
“Starscream.” She was about to elaborate when Ratchet barked an order at her.
“Get in!”
“What?”
“There’s no way you can drive on that tire, now get in.” As she was about to climb in, Sunstreaker placed a hand on her shoulder. Tracer instantly froze, before glancing up at him, a questioning look on her faceplates.
“Keep an eye on Blue for us.”
“You sound like you don’t trust me Sunstreaker.” The smirk that would have been on Ratchet’s faceplates was clear in his tone.
“I’ve seen the way you drive. Absolutely no style or class.” The Lamborghini retorted, watching Tracer climb in before slamming the doors on Ratchet’s alt-mode a little harder than the medic liked, judging by the bout of cursing that followed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ratchet had repaired Bluestreak first, forcing the Twins to stay quiet while he did so. Sunstreaker paced the med. bay while Sideswipe leant against the wall. Tracer sat on a berth waiting for her shoulder tire to be repaired and trying not to fidget. There was nothing for her to do but wait; she had already given her report to Red Alert, before Ratchet threatened to throw him out of the med. bay for disturbing his patients. Once he had left, peace returned to the med. bay. Once Ratchet had gotten Bluestreak stabilised and repaired and allowed the Twins to sit with him, he started working on Tracer’s tire. It was an easy repair, quickly done and it wasn’t long until Tracer was free to go. She left, with the strict orders to refuel, rest and not to overstrain the shoulder joint.
Tracer ended up sat quietly in the rec. room; hating the noise, but needed the company. Not that anyone actually realised that; they were just laughing and joking as they normally did. If Red Alert and Inferno hadn’t been on duty, she’d have found them, but they weren’t around so she was resigned to sitting on her own in the rec. room with a cube of mid-grade energon. The scenes in the medical bay were too reminiscent of the times she’d spent waiting for team-mates to be repaired. She hadn’t focussed on that since she’d been transferred to Elita One’s team; the femmes not engaging in the sort of battles that would bring about that amount of damage.
Lost in her memory files, she didn’t notice when someone else sat down next to her, virtually jumping as he spoke and she registered his presence.
“You look like you could do with some company.”
“Huh?” Tracer tilted her head and stared back at Trailbreaker.
“I said you look like you could do with some company.” He smiled back before taking a long sip of his own energon cube.
“Oh…”
“Relax kid, you just looked a little lonely.” Tracer thought about that for a moment before replying.
“I guess I was. Too used to having someone to turn to after a battle I guess.”
“First time you’ve been injured since you came here, right?”
“Yeah.” Tracer slumped down a little in her seat, hampered slightly by the tire on her back. She wriggled about to get more comfortable before picking up her cube of energon again. “It’s just weird to not have a team around.” She muttered, staring into her cube.
“You’ve got a team, it’s just a little bigger than you‘re used to.” Trailbreaker reminded her. “I never got to see many battles back home. I was mostly based in Iacon, coming up with new defenses for our side.”
“Didn’t get to see much but battles, but at least I wasn’t really part of them.” They talked for a little while about their individual experiences in the war. Tracer told Trailbreaker how different Red Alert had been back on Cybertron, where he hadn’t been quite so tightly wound as he was on Earth. As they shared their stories, Tracer slowly relaxed; the mid-grade and lack of recharge taking their toll on her systems.
By the time Inferno and Red Alert made their way to the rec. room after their shifts ended, they found Tracer nestled up against Trailbreaker, deep in recharge.
“See, cybercat.” Red Alert pointed out, a trace of a smile on his faceplates.
“Never disagreed with ya Red.” Inferno replied, a small chuckle escaping him at the look Trailbreaker gave him.
“She drifted into recharge about half an hour ago. Didn’t have the spark to move her.” Trailbreaker explained, waving his free hand in the air.
“Yeah, she does that. Hey Red, remember the time we found her sprawled out over Kicker and Rollback?”
“I remember coming back to see you all piled up together deep in recharge.” Red Alert mused, a fond smile on his faceplates.
“Er… little help here guys?”
“Oh yeah. Just dump her back in her quarters.” Inferno grinned at Trailbreaker before dragging Red Alert back out of the rec. room.
“You do know she’ll slag you when she wakes up tomorrow and finds out, right?”
“Heh, she can try.” Inferno laughed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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Part Fifteen