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wyntir_knightTitle: The Devil You Know
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day 14 and the end of Week Two. According to Chris Batty, the creator of NaNoWriMo, Week two is the hard one. The honeymoon is over and the full magnitude of the idiocy that you have taken on hits. My problem was that the words weren't flowing as well as they could have. I have the whole story planned out, but I found that the characters were doing things out of turn and Ms. Inner Editor was trying to break out of her closet with her red pen. Now I think I have finally come to terms with the notion that the outline is just a suggestion, and not a contract. The next seven days should be easier. Admitedly, I don't have a four day weekend coming up, but I think I'll be able to manage ;p
23419 / 50000 words. 47% done!
Chapter 9
Arclight rushed forward heedless of the weapons that Cobalt still pointed at Updraft. Quickly she ran a scan on him to assess the damage. His skin was torn and dented but that seemed to be the limit of the physical damage. At least the exterior damage. Her work was hampered by a strange sticky substance that covered the mech. The golden substance didn’t seem to be causing any damage, but it was far too likely that whatever it was had worked its way in under Updraft’s armour. His engine still revved far too quickly and his coolant system was working over time. But now that he was offline, it seemed that his systems were calming slightly, though they were still working far too fast as far as Arclight was concerned. With the tools at her disposal, there was no way to tell without opening him up. It was something Arclight didn’t relish the idea of, but she didn’t have much of a choice.
She reached out and ran a gentle finger down the middle of Updraft’s chest and down the seams of his armour, looking for the catch she knew had to be there. Finally she found what she was looking for, hidden behind a layer of the hardening resin that covered him. With deft fingers she activated the latch and pulled the chest plate away.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Windsaber asked.
“I probably shouldn’t. I’m not a surgeon. But I need to be sure that none of this stuff got inside him,” Arclight replied tensely.
“He just passed out from overstimulation,” Cobalt grumbled.
“Why thank you Doctor Cobalt,” Arclight sneered. “And would you care to tell me where you got your medical degree?”
Cobalt merely snorted and walked away.
Arclight turned back to Updraft, checking his systems carefully until she was sure there was no actual damage. Once she was satisfied she closed his chest and brushed his face with her hand.
“He’ll be fine. He just needs to rest,” she said to Windsaber.
“Told you so,” came Cobalt’s voice from a few paces away.
“As soon as we find some solvent we should get him clean, however,” Arclight said, refusing to acknowledge that Cobalt had said anything at all. “I don’t know what this stuff is, but I don’t imagine it’s good for his finish.”
“Good,” Windsaber replied. “You did well today. Thank you.”
Windsaber bowed at the waist before turning away and moving among the Neutrals, speaking quietly to them.
Arclight watched him go. He was not at all what she expected a Decepticon to be. He was honourable and courteous, completely different from the mech who had hounded her on board the ship. Cobalt on the other hand was crass, rude, obnoxious, and overly proud. If he was an example of what the Autobots were, then she wanted nothing to do with that faction.
And Updraft – from what she saw of him, he should never have been in the war to begin with. She guessed that he wasn’t physically a sparkling, but there was an innocence about him that totally belied the Decepticon brand on his chest. He, like everything here, was a total enigma.
Arclight turned from Updraft and moved among the Neutrals. Several had been badly wounded and needed patching up as best as she could but with her limited supplies, it literally was a patch job. By the time she was done, the wounded were able to function, but her supplies had been cut in half, and they had lost far too much fuel to travel far. She stood, and approached Windsaber carefully as he patrolled the edge of the camp. Slowly she moved into step beside him, matching him pace for pace, waiting to be acknowledged.
“You need to move,” he said.
“I need to speak with you first,” she replied.
“Fine, then get on the other side of me. I don’t want you that close to the woods,” he said.
“Believe it or not, I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that. But I also don’t doubt that Strobe could take care of himself too.”
He let the statement fall like a lead weight, its implication and intent far too clear. Without a word, Arclight paused in her march and moved to Windsaber’s other side, putting him between her and the woods.
“I thought you Decepticons had no use for medics,” she said after a long moment of silence.
“We don’t. We are capable of taking care of our own,” he said.
“Is that why your faction has a history of killing medics wherever you find them?” Arclight asked softly. She was treading dangerous ground but she needed to know why he was keeping such care of her.
Windsaber stopped mid-stride and looked at her. His gaze was piercing and uncomfortable, like he wasn’t look at her, but was looking in her, seeing everything that was Arclight.
“Had this been a battle, or even on Cybertron, things would be different. We Decepticons have no use for medics, but we know that the Autobots do,” he said as he continued to walk. “You are a tool to them. You are useful to them. And as such, must be taken away.”
“So why is this different?” she asked.
“These are hardly normal circumstances. We are on an unknown world, we are facing an unknown threat, and I have far too many civilians under my care,” he replied with a shrug. “Had this been Cybertron matters would have been different. There I would only need my Decepticon compatriots. Here, I need as many tools as I can get, and that means caring for the Neutrals, and ensuring that you are not killed.”
They continued to walk in silence. Arclight mulled over Windsaber’s words, only vaguely aware that Cobalt watched them with smouldering anger. The Decepticon was acting as he was not out of compassion, but because they were all tools. She was sure that as soon as she and the Neutrals outlived their usefulness, Windsaber would cast them away. Of course, she could expect no different treatment from Cobalt. He had given her no reason to believe that he held her in any higher esteem than the Decepticon did.
“Besides,” Windsaber said interrupting Arclight’s thoughts, “you’re good with those swords and with an unknown threat out there, I need as many fighters as I can get.”
Arclight didn’t know if she should be complimented or nervous. Instead of worrying, she changed the subject.
“The reason I actually came to see you was to talk about my supplies,” she said.
“What about them?”
“With everything that’s happened I’m running low on several important things. If we’re attacked again, if we sustain any more major casualties I can’t guarantee that I’ll have enough to do anything.”
Windsaber stopped and looked at her again with that piercing gaze.
“You had better hope that you will be able to do something. You’re skill with those blades is secondary to your ability to keep these people useful to me,” he said darkly.
With that he turned away and moved to the fire.
Cobalt just chuckled silently to himself, his twitching shoulders the only sign of his laughter.
“Yeah, I imagine that you do find this funny,” Arclight grumbled. “But when it comes down to it, you’d be offering me the same choice.”
“I probably would,” Cobalt replied. “Mind you, the whole problem wouldn’t have come about had I been in charge.”
“Oh? So we wouldn’t have been attacked or I wouldn’t have any patients to care for?” Arclight asked.
“You have so little faith in me,” Cobalt chuckled. “I simply meant that if you lot had helped me when the Decepticons showed up we would have been at the rest of the ship and possibly off this dirtball. Certainly we wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly through the forest in search of a city that may or may not exist.”
“Somehow I doubt that being at the ship would have changed anything,” she replied.
“How do you know that the Decepticons didn’t lead our attackers here?” Cobalt asked.
“Now you’re grasping,” Arclight replied. “The attack happened before Updraft returned.”
She turned as she motioned to the Decepticon just in time to see his optics brighten and him attempt to sit up. Quickly, she moved over to him and knelt by his side.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she ran her hands over his neck and chest, checking his vitals.
“I … uhm … what are you doing?” Updraft asked hoarsely.
“I’m making sure you’re physically okay,” she replied softly.
“I think I’m okay,” he said. Then his face clouded as he looked around. “Where’s Strobe?”
Arclight looked up at Windsaber, optics pleading for him to take over and answer the question that she didn’t want to touch.
Windsaber came forward and knelt by the pilot.
“Updraft, you came back alone,” Windsaber said. “I need you to remember what happened to Strobe.”
“I … nothing happened to Strobe. He was with me and we were coming back to the camp after making the rounds, and then … and then …,” he said, trailing off as he half shuttered his optics and looked confused.
“You don’t remember anything past that point?” Windsaber asked. His tone was still soft, but there was a demanding edge to it.
“I don’t –,” Updraft began.
Windsaber cut him off with a slashing motion of his hands.
“Don’t. Do not say that you don’t remember,” Windsaber said tightly. “You were with Strobe, you said he was taken, and you will remember.”
“I … I don’t want to,” Updraft said in a small voice.
“That is not an option,” Windsaber replied.
Updraft sat up fully and stared at the ground for a long time. Finally he began to speak in a very small voice.
“We did a perimeter search and didn’t find anything. We had just decided to head back when we heard screams and laser fire from the camp. We ran back, but the trees had moved. We ended up in a clearing that hadn’t been there before. … There was a … something in the middle … Then Strobe wanted to retrace our steps but we were already going in the direction. I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t listen. We argued and that’s … that’s when … Oh Primus!”
Updraft buried his face in his hands.
“What happened?” Windsaber demanded.
“We were attacked. The trees attacked us. I tried to save him but I wasn’t strong enough,” Updraft whispered.
“Thank you Updraft,” Windsaber said. “Now, do you feel strong enough to stand?”
“Yes. I think so,” Updraft replied.
With Arclight’s help he struggled to his feet and stood on his own, swaying only slightly.
“Good,” Windsaber said. “Now, I want you to go back out there and find Strobe.”
“What?” Arclight cried. “You can’t do that. He’s in no condition to do any kind of recon!”
“He will do what he is told,” Windsaber replied calmly. “He is a Decepticon soldier and he will follow orders.”
“Windsaber! I can’t. Please, don’t make me go out there!” Updraft pleaded. “The trees are out to get us! They hate us!”
“You know, if your pet sparklet is too frightened to go out into the big bad woods, I could always do the recon for you,” Cobalt offered.
“And I could always shoot you,” Windsaber replied, levelling his gun at the Autobot.
“Windsaber, Updraft is in no condition to go. I cannot allow it!” Arclight argued.
“You have no say in this,” Windsaber replied coldly. “One of my mechs is missing and I want him back. Now!”
As if in answer to his request, a strange wail rose up in the forest around them, and suddenly something was pitched out of the woods. The shape was outlined by the red moon for the briefest of moments, before tumbling to the ground with a crash. Everyone was silent and then all hell broke loose as the Neutrals scrambled desperately away from the projectile. Windsaber took a step forward and gasped, losing all signs of the calm decorum he had held before.
Arclight moved up next to him and was shocked by what she saw. There, lying in the grass was the head and torso of Strobe. His arms and legs had been ripped off leaving only sparking leaking stumps behind. And his mouth opened and closed in a silent, agonized scream.
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day 14 and the end of Week Two. According to Chris Batty, the creator of NaNoWriMo, Week two is the hard one. The honeymoon is over and the full magnitude of the idiocy that you have taken on hits. My problem was that the words weren't flowing as well as they could have. I have the whole story planned out, but I found that the characters were doing things out of turn and Ms. Inner Editor was trying to break out of her closet with her red pen. Now I think I have finally come to terms with the notion that the outline is just a suggestion, and not a contract. The next seven days should be easier. Admitedly, I don't have a four day weekend coming up, but I think I'll be able to manage ;p
Arclight rushed forward heedless of the weapons that Cobalt still pointed at Updraft. Quickly she ran a scan on him to assess the damage. His skin was torn and dented but that seemed to be the limit of the physical damage. At least the exterior damage. Her work was hampered by a strange sticky substance that covered the mech. The golden substance didn’t seem to be causing any damage, but it was far too likely that whatever it was had worked its way in under Updraft’s armour. His engine still revved far too quickly and his coolant system was working over time. But now that he was offline, it seemed that his systems were calming slightly, though they were still working far too fast as far as Arclight was concerned. With the tools at her disposal, there was no way to tell without opening him up. It was something Arclight didn’t relish the idea of, but she didn’t have much of a choice.
She reached out and ran a gentle finger down the middle of Updraft’s chest and down the seams of his armour, looking for the catch she knew had to be there. Finally she found what she was looking for, hidden behind a layer of the hardening resin that covered him. With deft fingers she activated the latch and pulled the chest plate away.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Windsaber asked.
“I probably shouldn’t. I’m not a surgeon. But I need to be sure that none of this stuff got inside him,” Arclight replied tensely.
“He just passed out from overstimulation,” Cobalt grumbled.
“Why thank you Doctor Cobalt,” Arclight sneered. “And would you care to tell me where you got your medical degree?”
Cobalt merely snorted and walked away.
Arclight turned back to Updraft, checking his systems carefully until she was sure there was no actual damage. Once she was satisfied she closed his chest and brushed his face with her hand.
“He’ll be fine. He just needs to rest,” she said to Windsaber.
“Told you so,” came Cobalt’s voice from a few paces away.
“As soon as we find some solvent we should get him clean, however,” Arclight said, refusing to acknowledge that Cobalt had said anything at all. “I don’t know what this stuff is, but I don’t imagine it’s good for his finish.”
“Good,” Windsaber replied. “You did well today. Thank you.”
Windsaber bowed at the waist before turning away and moving among the Neutrals, speaking quietly to them.
Arclight watched him go. He was not at all what she expected a Decepticon to be. He was honourable and courteous, completely different from the mech who had hounded her on board the ship. Cobalt on the other hand was crass, rude, obnoxious, and overly proud. If he was an example of what the Autobots were, then she wanted nothing to do with that faction.
And Updraft – from what she saw of him, he should never have been in the war to begin with. She guessed that he wasn’t physically a sparkling, but there was an innocence about him that totally belied the Decepticon brand on his chest. He, like everything here, was a total enigma.
Arclight turned from Updraft and moved among the Neutrals. Several had been badly wounded and needed patching up as best as she could but with her limited supplies, it literally was a patch job. By the time she was done, the wounded were able to function, but her supplies had been cut in half, and they had lost far too much fuel to travel far. She stood, and approached Windsaber carefully as he patrolled the edge of the camp. Slowly she moved into step beside him, matching him pace for pace, waiting to be acknowledged.
“You need to move,” he said.
“I need to speak with you first,” she replied.
“Fine, then get on the other side of me. I don’t want you that close to the woods,” he said.
“Believe it or not, I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that. But I also don’t doubt that Strobe could take care of himself too.”
He let the statement fall like a lead weight, its implication and intent far too clear. Without a word, Arclight paused in her march and moved to Windsaber’s other side, putting him between her and the woods.
“I thought you Decepticons had no use for medics,” she said after a long moment of silence.
“We don’t. We are capable of taking care of our own,” he said.
“Is that why your faction has a history of killing medics wherever you find them?” Arclight asked softly. She was treading dangerous ground but she needed to know why he was keeping such care of her.
Windsaber stopped mid-stride and looked at her. His gaze was piercing and uncomfortable, like he wasn’t look at her, but was looking in her, seeing everything that was Arclight.
“Had this been a battle, or even on Cybertron, things would be different. We Decepticons have no use for medics, but we know that the Autobots do,” he said as he continued to walk. “You are a tool to them. You are useful to them. And as such, must be taken away.”
“So why is this different?” she asked.
“These are hardly normal circumstances. We are on an unknown world, we are facing an unknown threat, and I have far too many civilians under my care,” he replied with a shrug. “Had this been Cybertron matters would have been different. There I would only need my Decepticon compatriots. Here, I need as many tools as I can get, and that means caring for the Neutrals, and ensuring that you are not killed.”
They continued to walk in silence. Arclight mulled over Windsaber’s words, only vaguely aware that Cobalt watched them with smouldering anger. The Decepticon was acting as he was not out of compassion, but because they were all tools. She was sure that as soon as she and the Neutrals outlived their usefulness, Windsaber would cast them away. Of course, she could expect no different treatment from Cobalt. He had given her no reason to believe that he held her in any higher esteem than the Decepticon did.
“Besides,” Windsaber said interrupting Arclight’s thoughts, “you’re good with those swords and with an unknown threat out there, I need as many fighters as I can get.”
Arclight didn’t know if she should be complimented or nervous. Instead of worrying, she changed the subject.
“The reason I actually came to see you was to talk about my supplies,” she said.
“What about them?”
“With everything that’s happened I’m running low on several important things. If we’re attacked again, if we sustain any more major casualties I can’t guarantee that I’ll have enough to do anything.”
Windsaber stopped and looked at her again with that piercing gaze.
“You had better hope that you will be able to do something. You’re skill with those blades is secondary to your ability to keep these people useful to me,” he said darkly.
With that he turned away and moved to the fire.
Cobalt just chuckled silently to himself, his twitching shoulders the only sign of his laughter.
“Yeah, I imagine that you do find this funny,” Arclight grumbled. “But when it comes down to it, you’d be offering me the same choice.”
“I probably would,” Cobalt replied. “Mind you, the whole problem wouldn’t have come about had I been in charge.”
“Oh? So we wouldn’t have been attacked or I wouldn’t have any patients to care for?” Arclight asked.
“You have so little faith in me,” Cobalt chuckled. “I simply meant that if you lot had helped me when the Decepticons showed up we would have been at the rest of the ship and possibly off this dirtball. Certainly we wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly through the forest in search of a city that may or may not exist.”
“Somehow I doubt that being at the ship would have changed anything,” she replied.
“How do you know that the Decepticons didn’t lead our attackers here?” Cobalt asked.
“Now you’re grasping,” Arclight replied. “The attack happened before Updraft returned.”
She turned as she motioned to the Decepticon just in time to see his optics brighten and him attempt to sit up. Quickly, she moved over to him and knelt by his side.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she ran her hands over his neck and chest, checking his vitals.
“I … uhm … what are you doing?” Updraft asked hoarsely.
“I’m making sure you’re physically okay,” she replied softly.
“I think I’m okay,” he said. Then his face clouded as he looked around. “Where’s Strobe?”
Arclight looked up at Windsaber, optics pleading for him to take over and answer the question that she didn’t want to touch.
Windsaber came forward and knelt by the pilot.
“Updraft, you came back alone,” Windsaber said. “I need you to remember what happened to Strobe.”
“I … nothing happened to Strobe. He was with me and we were coming back to the camp after making the rounds, and then … and then …,” he said, trailing off as he half shuttered his optics and looked confused.
“You don’t remember anything past that point?” Windsaber asked. His tone was still soft, but there was a demanding edge to it.
“I don’t –,” Updraft began.
Windsaber cut him off with a slashing motion of his hands.
“Don’t. Do not say that you don’t remember,” Windsaber said tightly. “You were with Strobe, you said he was taken, and you will remember.”
“I … I don’t want to,” Updraft said in a small voice.
“That is not an option,” Windsaber replied.
Updraft sat up fully and stared at the ground for a long time. Finally he began to speak in a very small voice.
“We did a perimeter search and didn’t find anything. We had just decided to head back when we heard screams and laser fire from the camp. We ran back, but the trees had moved. We ended up in a clearing that hadn’t been there before. … There was a … something in the middle … Then Strobe wanted to retrace our steps but we were already going in the direction. I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t listen. We argued and that’s … that’s when … Oh Primus!”
Updraft buried his face in his hands.
“What happened?” Windsaber demanded.
“We were attacked. The trees attacked us. I tried to save him but I wasn’t strong enough,” Updraft whispered.
“Thank you Updraft,” Windsaber said. “Now, do you feel strong enough to stand?”
“Yes. I think so,” Updraft replied.
With Arclight’s help he struggled to his feet and stood on his own, swaying only slightly.
“Good,” Windsaber said. “Now, I want you to go back out there and find Strobe.”
“What?” Arclight cried. “You can’t do that. He’s in no condition to do any kind of recon!”
“He will do what he is told,” Windsaber replied calmly. “He is a Decepticon soldier and he will follow orders.”
“Windsaber! I can’t. Please, don’t make me go out there!” Updraft pleaded. “The trees are out to get us! They hate us!”
“You know, if your pet sparklet is too frightened to go out into the big bad woods, I could always do the recon for you,” Cobalt offered.
“And I could always shoot you,” Windsaber replied, levelling his gun at the Autobot.
“Windsaber, Updraft is in no condition to go. I cannot allow it!” Arclight argued.
“You have no say in this,” Windsaber replied coldly. “One of my mechs is missing and I want him back. Now!”
As if in answer to his request, a strange wail rose up in the forest around them, and suddenly something was pitched out of the woods. The shape was outlined by the red moon for the briefest of moments, before tumbling to the ground with a crash. Everyone was silent and then all hell broke loose as the Neutrals scrambled desperately away from the projectile. Windsaber took a step forward and gasped, losing all signs of the calm decorum he had held before.
Arclight moved up next to him and was shocked by what she saw. There, lying in the grass was the head and torso of Strobe. His arms and legs had been ripped off leaving only sparking leaking stumps behind. And his mouth opened and closed in a silent, agonized scream.
