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Triviality	By : mehmeh Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Authors: vectorsigma3441 (on LJ )as Prowl, Sideswipe, Optimus, Jazz, Megatron, and Skyfire. AmuseMe as Soundwave, Starscream, the battlechargers, the symbiotes, the coneheads, and supporting Decepticons.
Pairings: Megatron/Starscream, hinted Soundwave/Optimus
Warnings: VERY MATURE FIC. Please, read at your own discretion. Oral, facial, swearing, violence. Possibility of horrible slandering of characterization.

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Seekers, Seekers. He loved them, but hated them at the same time.
Starscream was a well known traitor and backstabber, always trying usurp the order. Sucked a good spike though. Skywarp, the annoying troublemaker who didn’t know when to keep his ailerons out of other mech’s business. If it weren’t for his warping abilities, he would’ve been completely worthless. And Thundercracker…well…his wavering dedication to the Decepticon cause was something that Megatron had been meaning to attend to for some time. Megatron kneaded his hand against Starscream’s helm, a content look on his face as Starscream worked over his spike.
The dominant hand cupping the back of Starscream’s helm kept him steady and in place, but he didn’t mind so much…for now. He merely contented himself with sucking and slurping at the hard spike filling his mouth, working it down his throat tubing, the hot length of it burning pleasantly against the sensitive sensors lining inside.
“Mmmm...”
He glanced up, crimson optics smouldering with a look he rarely gave. His vocaliser made a low chirr, and he knew the vibrations would cause a pleasant sensation that Megatron could appreciate. The intakes adorning his chestplates spun lazily, indicating his rising core temperature. The Seeker adjusted his position, sliding his legs further apart. His own interface panel was closed for now, but he wasn’t ready to let his pride go…just yet. One of his hands trailed teasingly down his own amber cockpit while the other ran slowly up the other mech’s silver thigh, blue fingertips following a transformation seam.
Starscream pulled his helm back, the spike’s tip leaving his lips with a barely audible pop. Around them the monitors beeped and blinked accordingly; some screens showing running lines of coding while others showed security camera feeds throughout the Nemesis.
“Lord Megatron…I truly must protest to this. You are wasting my valuable time when I could be easily coming up with ways to beat those infernal Autobots.” Starscream’s lubricant-smeared mouthplates were twisted into a sultry smile as he spoke, though the undercurrent of derision grew stronger with his next set of words. “At least that is what a true Decepticon leader would do.”
Starscream moved the hand he had resting on Megatron's leg and wrapped it around the spike's base instead. He gave his wrist a quick twist, countering the smooth slide of his palm across the curved surface with a long lick to the set of hard ridges running across his leader’s spike. Megatron’s gaze was drawn away from the datapad he was reading at the feeling.
“Shut up,” Megatron countered, a chuckle rumbling up from his throat. He gripped Starscream’s cheek sharply, pulling on the dermal metal. “I’m leader, and I’m working on the plans. You, on the other hand, are mostly only good for sucking spike, which you should be doing unless you’d prefer a face fuck instead,” he warned tetchily, then let go. Megatron’s red optics darkened, and he lazily reached out to touch Starscream’s wing, drawing his finger up and down the leading edge. He traced patterns on it, then flattened his finger to start scratching his name on the red band of paint.
“Ugh, you unrefined, incompetent brute,” Starscream snarled, bristling at the insult. His optics flashed in a mixture of anger...and arousal, for his wings fluttered and trembled underneath the pleasurable sting of Megatron’s finger.
“I know you’re just dying to finger yourself. Every time I nudge you with my pede you shiver,” the silver mech chided.
“I am your Air Commander and second-in-command! Without me you couldn’t possibly hope to even come close to gaining vic-“
Megatron drew his leg in between Starscream's as an example, and reached his pede up to rub it against the seeker's panel.
His predictable retort died in a gurgle of static and Starscream’s small mouth opened wide in a gasp. The pede felt wonderful between his legs, making him raise himself on his knees briefly so he could grind down against it more firmly. His valve was already wet and aching to be filled, little sporadic spasms that sent desperate tingles up his circuits. With a sudden change of moods that only Starscream was capable of, his previous ire melted away, to be replaced by an easy, mischievous smirk instead. In truth, he figured that that Primus-damned datapad would not steal his leader’s attention and definitely not his limelight.
“And I know you’re just dying to watch me finger myself, my liege, are you not?” he said, his normally raspy voice sounding almost pleasant with its lust-induced huskiness. He leaned forward, displaying his glass cockpit alluringly to his leader and fanned out his wings, the upside-down Decepticon symbol glinting proudly. “Put down the datapad and focus on me. I’m much more interesting...I promise.”
With a languid roll of his red hips, Starscream began to rub his still-closed panel against the stretched out limb, agitating the pressure sensors inside. He took Megatron’s spike back into his mouth with a long, drawn out moan and continued to tease the hot, textured surface with the tip of his glossa; from the slit at the top and down the long length of it, down, down until he reached the warlord’s valve.
“Optics on me,” he ordered when he came back up, squeezing the pede tightly between his thighs as his fans whirred faster. “Watch me pleasure you.”
Starscream cleaned off the beginnings of lubricant beading at Megatron’s valve’s flexible rim and then closed his lips over the slick opening, teasing the ribbed walls inside with his glossa. While one hand slithered a finger inside to work alongside with the moving glossa, the other reached up to pump at the neglected spike, his dexterous fingers rubbing at every sensor-rich ridge, pausing every so often to squeeze and pinch the tip lightly.
Another fan deep within Megatron’s chassis whirred to life, and for a moment he tensed, his red optics flashing as the datapad in his hand fell to the floor. Pleasure surged through him, from his pedes all the way to the top of his helm, and a soft groan parted from his lips. Megatron angled his hips out so Starscream could get at his valve easier and traced the edge of his wings with the tip of his claw.
“I’d say you were working for a promotion, Starscream, but then…you’re never getting farther than where you are now,” he said, shifting his leg to rub more insistently at Starscream’s panel. He gave a patronizing pat on the seeker’s head, watching the motions of the mech’s mouth and glossa.
Here, Starscream narrowed his optics.
Licking his lips and rubbing a part of his leg that scratched on Starscream’s panel, Megatron felt more lubricant build inside his own valve.
A plan was starting to formulate in his mind. Soon, the troops would need energon, and it was his job to deliver. It… had always been his first priority to make sure his troops were well fed before anything else. An easy task that didn’t require his immediate presence. There were mechs far better at that kind of thing than him.
Over the communications system, he chimed for Soundwave. This time…they needed to achieve the objective, simple as that.
Once Soundwave chimed back, Megatron sent him a text to meet in the command room. If anyone could get a simple energon run done with minimal problems, it was the telepath.
“Hmm…do a good job and maybe I’ll let you fuck me later…” he murmured to Starscream, his body growing just a fraction tenser.
“Well then,” Starscream simpered, optics flicking up to gaze at Megatron with a deceitfully sweet and adoring look. “It is only proper that I prepare my Lord for such an event... should he be generous enough to grace me with such an honour.”
“Don’t get too excited. I said if you did a good job,” Megatron replied, one optic powering up to a dim ember red. He grinned as his valve clenched around the digit fingering him, enjoying the feeling.
With a frown, he tapped Starscream on his helm. “I know you can work harder than that, you sleazy fuck.”
In retaliation, Starscream roughly inserted a second digit into Megatron’s valve and without preamble, moved and wiggled his fingers insistently, knowing that he was directly stimulating the interior node clusters. He rubbed at the ribbed walls, coaxing them to soften and stretch, enjoying the feel of them flexing around his invading fingers and hopefully later on, his spike.
With his optics off, Megatron lounged back in his chair, his helm lolled to the side as he fought not to press his hips on Starscream’s hand as lubricant welled up in his valve, along with his pleasure nodes sending sensations up and down his frame. It tickled in a wonderful way.
Starscream pulled his mouth and fingers away, swiping his glossa around his glistening lip components and with a long, exaggerated moan and one long, sinuous movement, he arched his backstrut. One hand shifted to carelessly push Megatron’s leg to the floor so that his interface panel could slide open, valve already ready and visibly shimmering with fluids. Starscream’s crimson optics dimmed with desire, vents hitching as he plunged his already wet fingers into his own opening, more forcefully than he would ever dare with Megatron. Megatron grinned as he watched Starscream’s fingers disappear in between his own legs.
It really was quite criminal the way Starscream managed to keep such coquettish expression on his faceplates while he worked himself back onto the erect spike in front of him, engulfing it in one go and knowing how good it felt when he sucked hard, his lips stretched so attractively around it.
Megatron’s overload was nearing. Like a trigger in the back of his mind, he knew when he was getting closer, and his thighs tensed minutely. A moan broke from his lips, half muffled by his hand.
Ah, ah, there. Just a little bit longer now.
The Seeker was already lost in the pleasure of having that spike inside his mouth and his fingers inside the warmth of his own clenching valve, so lost in fact that he didn’t notice a third presence joining them. The almost silent swoosh of the automated door registered too late in Starscream’s already hazy processor, but the sound of pedes hitting the cold, hard floor finally caused him to turn his helm to the side even though he already knew who had the gall to interrupt them. The Air Commander stared almost comically, with his mouth full of spike and his optics bright with astonishment. Soundwave’s visor barely flickered as Starscream indignantly drew back from between Megatron’s thighs with a muffled curse, his fingers stilling but remaining deep inside his valve. It wasn’t the first time Soundwave had witnessed him... servicing Megatron and it probably wouldn’t be the last. It still irked him however.
“Why is he here?” he snapped. “If he’s here to join then I’m definitely out.”
Soundwave, as usual, ignored the other mech. Instead, he turned his attention to the seated Decepticon. “You summoned me, Lord Megatron.”
Megatron cursed and slapped the back of Starscream’s helm.
“No he’s not here to join you stupid fool,” he hissed, completely disregarding the telepath for the moment.
Even if the mech was there to join, Starscream would take it like he was told. Megatron’s hand flashed forward and he grabbed Starscream’s chin. His spike was throbbing, only a little work would get him to overload. Megatron gripped his own spike and sunk his fingers into Starscream’s dermal plating, prying his mouth open. The Air Commander’s optics flared with unpleasant surprise and he made a muffled cry at the abuse.
“Slut, I’ve got something for you,” Megatron muttered, and began to pump his spike.
It only took a few moments and that all encompassing pleasure was on him again as he overloaded, his transfluid splashing on Starscream’s pretty face. The sight was…nice, and a gurgle of laughter left him. With a gasp, Megatron’s optics brightened, and he basked in the feel of afterglow, resituating himself on his chair.
“Yes…Soundwave…I have a mission for you. The outlines are in that datapad…right there,” he said, unhelpfully pointing to the datapad that had slipped out of his hand a short while ago. His face was impassive, and he waited for any expression the telepath might’ve made at having to come so close to them. He knew the mech detested Starscream with a passion. But he always found it interesting when his subordinates fought each other.
Still kneeling at Megatron’s feet, Starscream was sour-faced with humiliation. The quickly cooling transfluid was running down his cheeks, some of it dripping from his chin only to dribble down the smooth surface of his cockpit. The datapad in question was by Starscream’s side, close to his folded leg but he made no move to pick it up. Soundwave merely crossed the room and over to the two mechs so he could pick up his latest mission dropped so haphazardly on the floor. He raised it up, high enough to quickly study the objectives given.
Starscream hated the fact that Soundwave still refused to pay any semblance of attention to him. Obviously, that accursed telepath not only possessed the personality of a glitched service drone, but he also possessed the libido of one as well. Other mechs would be unable to tear their optics away from him. His vents huffed with irritation. “As your esteemed Air Commander-” He glanced up at Megatron, “- I insist that I lead this mission instead. Soundwave will obviously require my superior aerial support.”
“My abilities: sufficient. Autobots: inferior.” Soundwave made a point to tilt his helm down at the prostrated second-in-command. “Elite trine: not required.”
Soundwave’s answer did not send Starscream into a screeching fit, but it was clear that the Seeker not at all happy with it. He shifted on his kneecaps instead, wriggling his aft while he removed the fingers that had been buried inside his valve the entire time. He brought his hand up to his face and cleaned the thick coating of lubricant off, glossa darting between the index and middle fingers. Starscream’s optics were directly focused on Soundwave’s covered faceplates, challenging the other’s blank stare with his own. He swiped his now clean hand across his still wet faceplates, gathering what was left of Megatron’s transfluid and flicked it sideways in one deliberate, disgusted move. The droplets splattered onto Soundwave’s shins instead.
“Oops. My apologies,” he deadpanned, not sounding at all sorry.
Starscream grudgingly had to give Soundwave some credit; he didn’t even flinch, even as the opaque fluid began to congeal onto his dark plating. Soundwave, on the other hand, just lowered the datapad and addressed their superior.
“The mission shall be a success, Lord Megatron.”
“We need this energon Soundwave. All the details are there,” Megatron said, nodding his head toward the datapad the telepath had. The expression on his face was slightly cross at the actions of Starscream, but he made no comment about it. Being purposefully vague about the assignment would ensure Starscream didn’t try anything foolish.
Standing, Megatron tucked his spike away and brushed his hand against Starscream’s helm. It was the only gesture of thanks a Decepticon could hope to get. “Since you’re so eager to get out there Starscream, you and your trine can do drill practice.” With a smirk, he walked away from the chair, crossing his arms over his chassis. “You have the best stealth skills in the Decepticon army, Soundwave. See to it that you do not fail me.” The leader took another few steps forward and a holo of earth appeared.
“Affirmative, Lord Megatron.”
Megatron’s optics flared and he turned his head to the side, gazing at the two behind him with one red orb. “You’re both dismissed.” His hands flickered over the console keypad in front of him. “Hopefully you’re not too tired tonight Starscream, otherwise you’re just going to have another spike in your mouth.” With another sweep of his hand, the console shut off and he turned out of the room, heading back for his own berthroom.
“Surely you are not going to just leave me like this!” Starscream snarled at Megatron’s retreating back.
No answer.
The brief lapse of silence that followed was broken by the edgy tapping of fingers on a metallic thigh. There was a slow burn persisting in Starscream’s circuits, the arousal still present deep inside the aching sensor nodes of his exposed valve. But Starscream was too incensed at Megatron’s clear dismissal to find enough interest to get himself off.
“What did Megatron assign you to do exactly?” he finally spat out, turning a hateful optic up at Soundwave.
Soundwave continued to stand, scanning the datapad one last time before deleting the contents. He placed it carefully by the console, the air created by his movement tickling the sensitive planes of Starscream’s wings.
“Energon retrieval,” the other answered obscurely. It was then that he saw it fit to pay attention to the mess on his lower body; pulling out a cloth from subspace and efficiently wiping his legs clean. Starscream watched the action casually and noticed, though not for the first time, Soundwave’s narrow hips, broad and powerful chestplate and the long, clean lines of his thighs. He would have been utterly convinced that Soundwave truly lacked an interface drive or anything resembling it, if he was not already aware of the fact that Megatron had interfaced with him before. But that was a long time ago apparently, before Earth.
“Core temperature high with the lack of overload,” the communications officer unhelpfully observed, as he stopped and straightened his backstrut.
“Yes, yes, how very astute of you,” Starscream huffed. He paused, the gleam in his optics sharpening. His mouth widened into a benign smile and he invitingly slid the palm of his hand up his canopy. “...though I don’t suppose you’d want to help me with it.” Inwardly, his pride shrivelled up a little at the offer he was making but the scientist in him was infinitely curious at what sort of lover Soundwave was.
Again, silence.
Starscream was unsure whether he was being stared at or whether Soundwave was admiring the monitors behind him. An incomprehensible sound then escaped Soundwave’s vocaliser, though he couldn’t tell if it signified amusement. Maybe it was just plain static.
“Well?” he snapped, impatient.
“No, antivirus software has not been updated recently.” With that, the infernal mech threw the stained cloth straight at a seething Starscream’s lap and left the room.

Today’s mission was very simple, very routine and best of all, it did not involve Megatron’s rather...ambitious schemes. All Soundwave had to do was oversee the takeover of one of the local power plants and gather as many cubes as possible before the Autobots showed up. It really was nice when he was given missions that had neither Starscream nor the Stunticons. While assignments without Starscream were an understandable bliss, the Stunticons weren’t as annoying as they were just plain insane. Fortunately, he had the Coneheads today. Perhaps more rowdy than he would have liked, a little dim-witted at times but much more malleable than the command trine. At least they didn’t complain when he ordered them to do an aerial sweep.
And things were running very smoothly indeed. He was in charge after all.
“Ramjet. Thrust. Dirge,” he called out through his internal radio. “Report status.”
“No sign of Autobots.”
“Nothing so far.”
“Keh! I want some action, slaggit!”
You’ll see it soon enough, Soundwave thought grimly. Instead, he answered with a short, “Continue.”
The mount on his shoulder was no longer empty. It really did pay not to throw away old prototypes that still worked... though it had a nasty tendency of conflicting with his targeting software. Either way, it was unconceivable that Soundwave would go around the Nemesis unguarded like that. The excuse ‘I misplaced it’ was definitely not enough to keep Starscream’s suspicious looks away.
Soundwave’s mouth twisted with the memory. He focused his sight beyond the observation platform he was standing on, tall enough to view the row of power generators below.
Humans had pitiful defences. He had deliberately chosen one of the smaller establishments, one that was further off from state of Oregon and closer to the high rise mountains. There were immediate measures that he had taken, of course, to stop the humans from contacting the Autobots; their primary communications cable severed, Frenzy corrupting their emergency lines and his own jamming equipment running – though not on full power, just enough to kill off the humans’ rudimentary wireless signals. A complete communications blackout would have any passing satellite red-flagging the area immediately.
A grating shout was heard. “Hurry it up, fleshbag! Don’t have all solar-cycle here!”
And then there were the Battlechargers. Thuggish, immature but quite useful when utilised correctly.
A large yawning maw of a hole revealing the gray, rain soaked wilderness outside decorated infrastructure’s main wall, courtesy of a well aimed bomb. In front of it was Astrotrain, patiently waiting in shuttle alt-mode. The human femme passing by Soundwave’s raised platform, her body so small and fragile, struggled with the oversized cube in her arms. Behind her, more of her fellow workers heaved and groaned, accepting cubes from one of the twins and then moving along in an organised line as part of some organic conveyer belt. From there, the Battlecharger brothers took charge, snatching the cubes and piling them up and compressing them before depositing the manageable blocks into Astrotrain’s hold. It was so much more efficient to use the humans like that, instead of wasting resources to guard them. To kill them would have been easier, but it also meant unnecessary mess...and it always fuelled the Autobots into fighting harder. He really did hate it when that righteous fury overtook them.
“C’mon fleshbags, get to it!” Rumble snapped as he meandered quickly around the humans. He hopped up onto the platform and approached Soundwave, stating, “We outta empty cubes, Boss.”
“Understood. Cube formulation commencing,” Soundwave acquiesced.
He lowered his arm where he had been holding his own weapon threateningly against his chest and at a minimal cost of his own fuel, began creating the needed containers. One of the humans stumbled, his dull optics...no, eyes wide with morbid curiosity at the sight but was quickly forced back into line with a startled cry when Laserbeak swooped down, claws deliberately missing the man’s head by mere inches. Rumble sniggered, jeering at the frightened human to stop gawking.
The triplechanger’s cargo bay was nearing half full...yes, progress was good. For now.
“What ya looking at?! Get to it!”
It was unfortunate that this was what they were reduced to. Stealing energy from a fledgling race who remained defenceless once their thin layer of technology was stripped from them while, Cybertron, the true seat of their rightful territory remained so far away, plagued by unrest and stagnant politics. A far cry from the proud speeches that overwhelmed him and ensured his loyalty so long ago.
The female stumbled again but quickly pulled herself up, casting wary glances back at where Runamuck was. Then she looked up at Soundwave and when he deliberately allowed his visor to flash at her, she ducked her head and hurried along back to the waiting cubes. The lazy tendrils of his telepathy expanded out towards her, causing her to flinch without even realising why. Then he caught the thoughts of two males passing her, the glowing energy of the cubes painting their facial features into a horrid pink.
I don’t want to die.
I’m scared.
That tape deck robot is freaking me out.
Human thought processes had always been too jumbled and too erratic for his liking. The electronic impulses of their brain centres transmitted were too weak for him to focus on anything specific and it always gave him a cpu-ache just trying.
I don’t want to die!
Where are the Autobots?! Why aren’t they here?
Why won’t he stop staring?
Please God, I don’t want to fucking die!
Soundwave tuned out their insipid thoughts and with a crunch of broken glass, stepped off the platform, not caring if he startled the humans when he floated down onto the ground level. The creeping realisation that Megatron had already lost the point of this war had never reacted so strongly with him until now.
“Are those slaggin’ Autobots here yet?” Runabout whined as he stamped his pede.
The dark grey mech kept fidgeting and twitching with impatience. He was bored, Soundwave noted, that underpowered processor of his not being able to comprehend anything beyond the brutish need to destroy. Runamuck’s optics narrowed and when a human approached with more cubes, he lurched forward and revved his engine loud and menacingly. The man yelped and fell onto his backside, cubes tumbling from his arms.
“Oh lookie, you frightened it,” Runabout chortled.
“Battlechargers: unproductive activities not encouraged,” Soundwave reprimanded.
Two sets of red optics shifted from the whimpering human on the floor and onto him, glowering hatefully. Undaunted, Soundwave stared back until the two idiots remembered that he was in charge and not them. They sulkily went back to compressing and loading. That continued for a short while until their radio buzzed with Ramjet’s excited words.
“Autobots spotted and heading your way fast!”
“Finally! Thought I was gonna rust here!”
Soundwave glanced back at Astrotrain. Three quarters full. A good load. While he was itching for a fight himself, he knew that it was imperative that Megatron received that energon first.
“Optimus Prime: present in Autobot convoy?” he enquired, ignoring the surge of anticipation in his circuits.
“Dunno, they're in that shuttle of theirs.”
He wasn’t oblivious to Rumble’s sideways gaze or the downward twist of Frenzy’s mouth, barely discernible from the distance. Even Laserbeak’s optics flared ever so slightly and Soundwave wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Astrotrain,” he ordered. “Immediate destination: Nemesis. Seeker trine: will accompany and provide full air support.”
It was always Ramjet who objected the most. “What?! And miss out beating the Autobots into scrap? Astrotrain can take care of himself!”
But Astrotrain was not keen on flying back on his own, particularly when his hold was filled with stacks of volatile energon that could easily explode with one laser shot. “Megatron’s going to be pissy if we don’t get that energon back to him and who do you think he’s going to blame huh?”
“Ain’t gonna be me!” Thrust retorted.
“He’s gonna blame all of us, ya spikeheaded twit!” Rumble’s voice cut into the channel scathingly. “Or did ya forget the last time he beat ya into slag? Hah! Thought he mistook yer ugly, fat aft for Starscream!”
“Rumble, you pintsized glitch, I’m gonna fuc-“
Soundwave was not in the mood to listen to them. Not when there were Autobots rushing towards them and especially if Optimus Prime was leading them.
“Silence! Seeker trine will provide full air support to Astrotrain. Recommended route: south-westerly over main mountain,” Soundwave insisted, the cold steel in his words evident through his monotone. “Radar interference: will be temporarily provided. Duration: two breems. Use it wisely.”
“But-“
“All objections: overruled!”
Bracing himself by sliding his legs apart, Soundwave redirected most of his power to his internal transmitters. It wasn’t difficult to see why Soundwave was considered to be a formidable communications officer; all frequencies, human and Cybertronian, immediately filled with static as the power plant and the area surrounding it was transformed into one massive communications blind spot. Not one to waste an opportunity, Astrotrain’s powerful engines roared into life, his heavy chassis bouncing once on its undercarriage before he effortlessly propelled himself forward into the sky. The humans were lucky that they were huddled in a corner away from the triplechanger for surely they would have been scorched from the jet backwash.
Both Runamuck and Runabout bristled with bloodthirsty expectation, their energy fields rolling from their frame clearly indicating their eagerness for battle. But Soundwave knew that despite his troops’ willingness, the Autobots most likely would sorely outnumber them. All he had to do was distract them long enough for Astrotrain’s sake. Hopefully the jamming was sufficient to keep the Autobots from following the shuttle.
His symbiotes signalled their readiness by pinging him and Soundwave levelled a glare at the humans. He pointed dispassionately at the jagged hole to his left.
“Run to your Autobot saviours,” he said.
It was amazing how that one word ‘Autobot’ was enough to widen their eyes and fill their faces with optimism. They wasted no time, rushing as fast as their little legs could push them. One tripped in his haste and his colleagues were too busy making their escape to even stop to help. Soundwave twisted his torso towards the entrance as the last human hostage scrambled over the debris littering around him and raised his concussion blaster, his finger tightening on the trigger. It was not as if Soundwave wished to spare their lives, he basically wanted them to serve as a suitable sidetrack. At least until he could no longer keep up the jamming. With any luck, one of them would get accidently squished by a wayward Autobot pede.
The rainy season. Spring, as the earth people called it.
Optimus could hear the rain drumming against Skyfire’s plating as they rocketed through the sky. There was stark red LED lighting in the cabin, and Optimus was forced to scrunch himself up as much as he could in order to fit. With a group of other mechs it was a hard squeeze.
His gaze shifted to Jazz. His third was in the midst of a punch line for a joke, something about one of Megatron’s more...simple minded plans, and the old reminiscing brought a smile to his face, hidden by his mask of course.
“-I’m sure that was after Starscream’s wing was on fire because of the energon cubes,” Optimus chimed in, and Sideswipe snorted into his hand.
Jazz’s smiling face turned in his direction as he joined in the laughter. “That’s right, an’ then he was dancin’ around on th’ platform like those femmes back in that one bar on Cybertron. Who knew Starscream had it in ‘im,” he chuckled, and Sideswipe slapped him on the back as he broke into another fit of laughter.
Skyfire’s prude, disembodied voice broke into the cockpit. “In his defence, wings are very sensitive, along with the wingtips. It’s crippling.”
Sideswipe laughed again. “I’ll remember that when I’m,” he made a suggestive motion with his hips from where he was, “bumping ‘em out with Air Raid.” He drew a hand down his chassis and along over his white thighs. Optimus felt his spike stir with interest, but he kept himself from shifting to draw notice.
Prowl rapped the toughline on his helm with a crisp hand. A shame, Prime thought. Sideswipe was attractive, along with his twin brother. What he wouldn’t do to have had both of them at the same time.
“Please, let’s concentrate on the task at hand. I seem to recall worse instances happening to both of you,” Prowl said, ruining the good mood completely. Jazz tucked his chassis back as he leaned against Skyfire’s cabin wall. Sideswipe sighed and did the same.
“So, recap. Optimus?” Prowl said softly, scrolling over the datapad in his hand for a final check over before he stowed it in his subspace, looking expectantly at Optimus.
“Ah, yes. This should be a fairly standard mission. The emergency services in the area were contacted via phone, and it seems that the Decepticons are draining energy from the local hydroelectric dam. Should be an easy enough mission, Sky Spy intel suggests low Decepticon support and activity.”
Sideswipe groaned and twisted irritably from in between the bulk of Prowl and Jazz. “What you mean to say is that it’s going to be boring,” he complained.
Skyfire cut in again. “Helping humans is never boring. We’re guests on this planet, we need to do our part,” he said tetchily.
Optimus nodded in agreement. “Yes, they let us stay here and give us energy to make energon. Without it...” Well, it was needless to say anything more on the subject. Without it, they’d probably all be back in stasis, or dead. “And not only that, they’re helping us with the warp gate. Without their help, we might never be able to return home.”
Sideswipe sighed and shrugged his shoulder, but not after he took the time to elbow Jazz in his side. The saboteur grunted and shifted over on his aft to let Sideswipe scoot away from Prowl.
Skyfire shifted to the side and everyone braced against the turbulence. Optimus continued.
“It’s a small dam they’re scavenging from. I’m not too concerned with how much energon they steal,” he admitted, his optics darkening while his jaw tensed under his mask. “I’m more concerned about the humans. The more casualties, no matter how impossible, will look bad on us...For the time being, we want to stay here as long as we can...”
A comfortable silence settled over the cabin. Guns were primed and checked over, and Jazz started humming a quiet tune. “Jazz, once we get out, you’re going to scout ahead, should be--”
A startling burst of static sounded over each of their communicators. Optimus jerked and clutched his head and turned the volume down on his, the ringing scattering his audio relays.
“Fucking hell,” Sideswipe cursed, rubbing his audio horn with his fingers. Prowl’s unpleasant grimace affirmed Optimus’s suspicions.
“Soundwave’s communication blocks,” Prowl said, wiping the mechblood off of his lip from where he had accidentally bit it. “Should’ve known better than that,” he muttered.
“Thirty klicks as the seeker flies,” Skyfire cut in. A second later everyone was thrown against the right side of the cabin as the large Autobot banked hard to the right. The gravity on earth was far higher than that of Cybertron, and Optimus grunted as his frame was jarred unpleasantly along the wall. He reached up and fingered along the smokestack on his shoulder, finding a bit of it was bent.
“Decepticons,” Skyfire said, “Ramjet, Thrust, and Dirge..with Astrotrain retreating. More than anticipated. Including Soundwave, with his cassettes, and whatever other ground support he has. You’re sure Sky Spy was accurate?”
“Yes,” Prowl snapped. “Ground support is limited to symbiotes, a lone telepath, and at the most, three other mechs. Considering the elite trine is nowhere to be seen, my logic computes perfectly.”
Sideswipe’s helm thumped against the thick metal wall behind him. “Is that your fuckin’ fancy way of saying you knew we were going to be outnumbered?”
“Sideswipe!” Optimus barked.
“And you can spend a day in the brig after this for insubordination,” Prowl replied. Optimus’s cross face, even though hidden under his mask, smoothened out. It was always like this when any of them paired up into smaller groups. Not to mention having Jazz and Prowl in the same area and not arguing was probably miraculous. The two disagreed sharply...almost all of the time.
“Landing,” Skyfire said, “You’re going to have to be quick. I will engage the enemy in aerial combat and give as much ground support as I can.”
“Alright, my friend,” Optimus nodded, scooting forward towards the drop hatch. He was almost always the first to enter battle. That feeling developed in his processor and he knew Skyfire was descending. Soon as the hatch opened, foggy mist rolled in, and Optimus quickly trotted out of the hatch, the rest of his team on his heels.
They moved far enough away and watched as Skyfire jetted off again. The mist cleared some and instead cold rain hammered down on their plating. Jazz shook his frame, shuddering. “Nice day,” he muttered.
They all congregated around Optimus as he lit a hologram in his hand of the area. He zoomed in on the facility itself. “Be careful, there should be anywhere of five to ten humans. We aren’t going to be able to see, so make sure you look before you shoot. The symbiotes may be able to cause problems, but nothing too serious. They’ll have just as a hard time with vision as us, especially because they’re lower and closer to the ground, but watch for the fliers. Prowl, you go up here to the left with Sideswipe, Jazz along the right, and I’m going straight.”
Steam puffed out of Prime’s chassis as he shifted backwards. “Any questions?”
“Nope, got it Prime,” Jazz murmured. Prowl nodded, hoisting up his acid pellet rifle. Sideswipe had his own blaster, but his expression wasn’t as grim as the high ranking officers. He smiled maliciously.
“Make sure you take care of Prowl, Sideswipe,” Optimus added.
The tactician snorted and turned away, his doorwings flaring attractively. He motioned sharply with his hands for Sideswipe to flank his left. “No, you take care of yourself, Prime.”
Jazz waved at the rest of them and disappeared into the mist. Not that Prowl would’ve cared if he’d seen it, nor would he have reciprocated. Optimus shook his head and oftentimes wondered how much Prowl and Jazz did actually know. His spark seemed to clench in on itself at the thought. Was he compromising himself? Yes.
But, there was a mission at hand, and Optimus started forward up the twisting path that the hydroelectric dam workers must’ve used as a driveway. Oddly, it wasn’t paved, as most of the human earth roads where. Instead, red coloured dirt trickled down from the road from the torrent of rain. The embankment was upwards, probably where the crux of the river was too.
Quickly he started up the slope, treading on the grass where it was easier to walk. Each step he took was quite audible, making the trees around him shake. The trees would’ve been able to provide him with some cover, and if he laid on his front, he’d be able to get more protection from the steep embankment. Just as long as no one snuck up on him from behind.
The closer he came, the more he could make out dim voices. Humans, screaming humans. A chill developed over him that wasn’t because of the cold rain. He’d always been compassionate, or so he wished, and their screams had always been particularly piercing. Especially the females. He could see them rushing madly down the way, splattered with mud and drenched completely. There’d be no hope of extraction without any working communications systems.
The woman at the front of the small group screamed when she noticed Optimus’s figure looming in the fog. Quickly Prime stooped down, raising his hands a bit while his knee settled uncomfortably in the mud. “This is all of you?” he said.
The woman looked frightfully behind her while she shook terribly, her face red and eyes swollen. “Yes,” she said, “Six of us.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve, blood staining the dirty white arm of her jacket. “Thank God you’ve come,” a man said, his spectacles half on his face, huddled close to another.
“Yes. Down this road, about a thousand meters, is a clearing. Go to the edge of it and stay there. The Autobots will take care of the rest of the Decepticons.” With no preamble, Prime stood to his full height and stepped around the group, but looked over his shoulder to make sure the group was doing as he’d said. Once they disappeared into the mist, he was confident they’d find their way around. They knew the place better than him after all.
The telltale noise of battle suddenly greeted his audios. But from up in the sky. Skyfire must’ve been engaging the coneheads. Optimus stepped up the hill until he saw the grass below his pedes was nicely trimmed. Must’ve been at the edges of the ground. The mist around the complex cleared more, and he could see a few crushed vehicles. The Decepticons must’ve destroyed them. It was then, his optics seemed to zero in on the giant hole in the complex, not too far ahead. He saw Soundwave’s vague outline and he raised his gun to shoot and dove to the side right after. The sharp ‘thump thump’ of Prowl’s acid pellet gun was easy to recognize, along with the shriller sound of a standard issue Autobot blaster from the left, off from in the trees.
In the murkiness of their surroundings, Soundwave jumped out of the hole and the air seemed to part around his body as two more Cassettes unfolded from the open panel of his chest. Ravage landed effortlessly on his four pedes and bounded away to assist the others while Buzzsaw set loose a volley of laser blasts up at Optimus’ general direction as he flew past them to join Laserbeak.
Time seemed to stop for a split second when Soundwave’s gaze focused directly onto his Autobot lover. “Optimus...” he breathed, words barely audible behind the mouthplate.
Loose gravel and rock tumbled down the slope as Soundwave’s pedes dug into the wet ground. He veered sharply to one side, zig zagging up the slope to avoid the shots aimed at him. Up at the distance, Runabout’s particle beam rifle was heard and several trees toppling but he didn’t care much about that. The communications blackout he was producing was not going to last much longer and his main concern was Astrotrain getting to his destination...and subsequently, his all too important cargo.
Soundwave reached his target – one of the human’s cars. He raised his leg, bent it at the knee joint and twisted on one pede to aim a kick at the already damaged vehicle. There was an almighty clank when the car tipped over on its side, and then an almost unbearable screeching noise as it skidded across the cracked tarmac. Taking advantage on the momentum he had already gathered, he landed another hard kick to it, sending it bouncing violently down the steep slope, down to Optimus and to its doom.
With no physical barriers which Optimus preferred, he cursed as the vehicle built momentum towards him. He couldn’t see Soundwave’s form, just the very top of his head, and he had a split second decision to make. There’d be no way he could roll to the side fast enough, with his form as big as it was, he’d have to roll twice, and it wasn’t that easy for him to do. He was a big mech.
Digging his pedes into the ground, Optimus rose and shielded his body with his strong arms, and he grunted as the car impacted with him. It had a nice amount of force behind it, but Optimus had more, and he shoved it off of his body to let it crash the rest of the way down the hill. His armour was barely dented, and he raised his rifle to shoot up the hill.
Jazz, on the other hand, was much closer to Soundwave than Optimus. The saboteur had wedged himself around the side of a building, his paint helping him blend with the dark, rain gray outside. He peeked around the corner and could only see the mech’s shoulder, and the edge of his chassis. The building was rather tall, so there’d be no way he could climb up to get a headshot. Going around the complete corner of the building was out of the question too. Jazz stepped away from his cover, and when the back part of Soundwave’s shoulder came into view, he shot. He stayed place as he heard the ring of it connecting, then stepped back and nearly slipped down the embankment. He fell on his front and cursed sharply, propelling himself back sharply into the trees.
The telepath hissed sharply though his vents at the sudden sting assaulting his shoulder from that accursed Autobot’s shot. The suddenness of it had him drop the jamming and his internals protested when they finally registered the energy drain. But he was a tough mech, always has been and always would be. The damage to his plating was, to him, unimportant. He tore after Jazz with all the intent of blasting him into stasis. Simultaneously, the radio channels around him began to buzz with activity.
“Seeker trine. Astrotrain,” he called. “Report status.”
“Screamer’s ole’ boyfriend’s after us,” Ramjet said, the sneer in his voice evident through the encrypted Decepticon frequency.
“Astrotrain?”
“Makin’ good progress.”
Soundwave was thankful that the trees grew sparse enough to allow him to weave through without any trouble.
“Aerialbots?”
“Dun see them.”
“Primary Objective: Energon cargo.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Astrotrain grouched suddenly over the channel. “I love ya too Soundwave.”
Well that was good. Skyfire was, at spark, a pacifist. A fully-fledged Seeker Trine should have no problem handling him and protecting Astrotrain at the same time. He did not have the luxury to hide; the broad bulk of his torso too wide for the thinner trunks. Instead he fell behind a particularly thick undergrowth and a natural groove curved into the earth, his dark colouring helping him blend. For now, his visor dimmed as he concentrated; taking into account the distant noises of the skirmish taking place further away, the rain dripping from the foliage above and onto his plating and the signature of the hidden mech he was after.
You can’t hide from me Autobot...
The high-pitched whine Soundwave’s blaster made was barely heard and he slowly hunched forward, movements steady and deliberate like that of a cybercat’s. When the weapon was fully charged, Soundwave pressed the trigger and aimed where he predicted the Autobot’s position was. The resulting shockwave blast rattled the weaker branches, making them wave wildly.
“Calling for an aerial attack!” Jazz’s voice suddenly burst through the officers’ comm. Optimus looked up to the sky, watching Skyfire turn away from the squad that was rapidly disappearing into the distance.
“Live rounds!” the shuttle called out, and Optimus could hear the sound of his weapons firing before the bullets impacted with the earth. The concrete parking lot exploded, and Optimus ducked down to shield himself. Dirt sprayed down everywhere, and he heard some of the trees shatter in the woods nearby, cracking and breaking apart loudly. Optimus took advantage of the situation and ran to the top. He could barely see Rumble through the smoke, but Prime shot twice at him. After a moment, he ran to the building’s side where he could get some cover, and nearly tripped over a piece of the parking lot that was up heaved from Skyfire’s shot.
Jazz avoided Soundwave the best that he could, which was easier for him and his small form. His pedes were burned from where Soundwave’s blast had scored his armour. He kept shooting randomly over his shoulder in hopes to keep Soundwave occupied. Were the Decepticons actually trying to defend the place?
Soundwave grunted as a stray bullet caught him in the flank, embedding itself deeply between a coolant tank and a secondary pump. Mechblood spurted out from a ruptured line and Soundwave automatically slapped a hand over the ripped plating. They needed to get out of there fast.
The Decepticon channel was filled with foul cursing, both in their native language and in English. Somewhere in between, Soundwave thought he heard a rude sounding German word that sounded like a clogged up filter belonging to a waste disposal unit.
“Frag that jet to the pit and back!”
“Prime got me!” Rumble moaned.
“Astrotrain: report status,” Soundwave commanded, tone coldly detached and professional as always despite the life fluids seeping in from between his fingers.
“In the clear. Approaching Nemesis.”
“About fuckin’ time!” Frenzy snarled. “What the hell took you so long? Did ya stop off for a booty call at the Smithsonian? We’ve been eatin’ slag here!”
“Shut up, pipsqueak!”
The telepath’s intakes heaved in a mixture of relief and pain. “Mission accomplished. Decepticons: withdraw.”
Mud splattered wetly across his frame and Soundwave found himself running up towards the main complex again, energon thrumming hotly through his tubes. His Cassettes met him half way; Ravage and the injured Rumble transforming in mid air to fit back into his chest cavity whilst Frenzy launched his rockets blindly up at Skyfire and the other two avian symbiotes kept the other Autobots busy. Warning windows blared in front of his vision but his anti-gravs weren’t affected, switching on in perfect timing. Rivulets streamed down his body, fuchsia liquid from the wound mixing in with the rainwater. The agony was staunchly ignored, pushed deep into his mind.
He wasn’t too concerned about the Battlechargers. They could make their own escape. For now, his chassis twisted in the air, lending him one last view of the Autobots on the ground and the devastation they left behind. He was successful. That was all that mattered and he could not help but send Optimus Prime a soft but triumphant mental chuckle.
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