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wyntir_knightTitle: Bleeding Daylight
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Smokescreen
Pairings: Smokescreen/Swindle
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Other Tags: Canon-Divergent - AU, TF: Wings Universe, Friendship, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Cross-faction relationship, Torture, Alcohol/Drugs, PTSD, Slavery, Suicidal thoughts, Switching alignment
Summary: There was a time when the Combaticons were Autobots in good standing, members of the Elite Guard. But then a deal went wrong and they were betrayed, leaving chaos in their wake and others to pick up the pieces. Smokescreen was one of those left behind - living out the rest of his life with his half of the bond he had once shared with Swindle both raw and numb. With the help of a new faction and the friends he made therein, Smokescreen was able to move on with his life and almost forget about his former Conjux and bond-mate. And then the unthinkable happened. Megatron found the Combaticons in their prison and revived them, forcing them to become Decepticons and unknowingly reopening wounds thought long closed. But those old wounds and that ancient bond may be just what’s needed to end the war as everyone has known it. Pity that some people prefer the status quo and others are unwilling to put aside old grudges for long enough to take advantage of the opportunities presented. But, a someone once said: “Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight / Got to kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight.” (Bruce Cockburn, Lovers in Dangerous Times)
Smokescreen sat on the uncomfortable chair in the even more uncomfortable room and waited, hands folded on the table, radiating nothing but peace and serenity as he waited. There was no outward sign of the terror roiling through his spark as he waited for what he knew would be an interrogation.
The sole door, set in a wall next to what could only be a one-way mirror, and a thin, wiry flyer entered the room, staring intently at a data pad.
“Smokescreen of Praxis?” the mech asked.
Smokescreen remained silent. He had run enough interrogations to know the drill backwards and forwards by this point and he wasn’t going to fall for the distracted bureaucrat game.
The mech looked up at Smokescreen and for the barest instant a smile pulled at his lips. He was clearly looking forward to breaking his subject. Smokescreen didn’t know Acidlock personally, but he did know him by reputation. The green and black flyer was notorious for taking far too much pleasure in his work and continuing to use enhanced interrogation techniques well after they were no longer needed. Apparently it was only the best for Smokescreen.
Acidlock sat down across from Smokescreen and smiled pleasantly.
“Come now, you know the drill. I need to verify some things before we can continue,” he said. “And no, refusing to play along won’t make this end any sooner. So, Smokescreen of Praxis?”
“Yes,” Smokescreen finally said after allowing the silence to stretch out a beat longer than needed.
“You are the fourth creation of the eighth Imperium House of Praxis. You work with the Tactical Deception Unit working under Grindrift and specializing in intelligence gathering. You have been in a conjux relationship with Swindle of Kalis for three vorn. And he is a member of the Elite Guard Special Operations Unit designated as Combaticons, working as their weapons’ specialist. Do you agree with all statements made?”
“What’s this all about?” Smokescreen asked.
“Please answer the question. After all, we don’t want this to drag on any longer than it needs to,” Acidlock replied.
“And I know my rights not only as a citizen of Iacon but also as a member in good standing with the Iaconian military. Now what is this about?”
Acidlock’s smile somehow managed to widen and become more predatory at the request.
“Then as you know your rights - and the system, I’m guessing - you also know that we can hold you for sixteen days before laying any charges, and we don’t need to advise you of those charges until such time as you are formally charged. Now, Smokescreen, Do you really want to spend the next sixteen days in here while your conjux is undergoing his trial?”
Smokescreen ex-vented softly.
“Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No,” he said.
“Excuse me?” Acidlock asked and Smokescreen couldn’t quite hide his amusement at the interrogator’s confusion.
“The answers to your questions. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No.”
Acidlock’s visor brightened slightly. “The official state records show that you and Swindle filed your conjux endurae request three vorn ago.”
Smokescreen leaned back in his chair, ignoring the pinch to his doors, and looked at Acidlock as if he was more than a little dim.
“No, no it doesn’t. Swindle and I formalized our conjux endurae three vorn, two hundred fifty-eight years, seven months, two weeks, and five days ago. So no. I don’t agree with all of your statements.”
Acidlock cycled his optics and then leaned back with a laugh.
“Well, if there was any question about you being a Praxian … So tell me, do you also want to provide me with the minutes and seconds as well?”
“Do you want them?” Smokescreen asked blandly. “I had nothing to do with what Swindle is accused of. I was at work at the time the attack happened and I have several witnesses including two high ranking officers in the Special Services Office to corroborate that.”
Acidlock swiped through a few pages on his pad.
“Yes, we’ve already spoken to Grindrift. He tells us that you weren’t acting yourself. Quote: he was distracted and jumpy and said he was feeling off. He said he quote: thought he had that processing bug that’s been going around, but between you and me, I think he’s sparked. My conjux was the same way when he was sparked with our first. End quote. Tell me something Smokescreen, are you sparked?”
Smokescreen’s optics narrowed and he sat up straighter.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to see a medic yet,” Smokescreen replied. “We both have locks in place but given that locks are only ninety-seven point three five eight percent effective there is a slight possibility that I might be. Or I might have been fighting off that processor bug. I had been feeling off for the last two days.”
“Or you could have been nervous because you knew what the Combaticons had planned,” Acidlock said.
Smokescreen remained silent.
“So, tell me, when did you first learn that the Combaticons were missing in action?” Acidlock asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Well then when did you know that they had defected?”
“I have no reason to believe that they did.”
Smokescreen was pleased to see that his answers were getting under Acidlock’s plating. He was far too accustomed to interrogating mechs who were terrified of him and this time his prey was remaining painfully calm and composed.
“How about we jump to the day of the attack. When did you learn that the Combaticons had attacked the Central Council Building?”
“At the same time as the rest of Iacon; when the media broadcast the alert and curfew order.”
“And you expect me to believe that Swindle didn’t tell you anything about his plans?” Acidlock asked and there was a slight edge to his voice now.
Smokescreen shrugged his doors slightly.
“We both work with classified information. It’s better for both of us if we never discuss work. No risk of being compromised that way.”
“You’ve been conjux for three vorn-” Acidlock raised his hand when Smokescreen opened his mouth. “For longer than three vorn and in all that time you never once spoke about work? You expect me to believe that?”
Again Smokescreen shrugged. “You can believe whatever you like. It won’t change the facts.”
Acidlock turned off the data pad and sighed.
“Okay, well then I guess we’re done with this part of the interview process. Since you’ve decided to be reticent with the truth.”
He stood and moved to the door.
“Someone will be by in a few hours to move you to a location better suited to our next conversation.”
Part 2
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (Wings Universe)
Characters: Smokescreen
Pairings: Smokescreen/Swindle
Rating: Mature
Content Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Other Tags: Canon-Divergent - AU, TF: Wings Universe, Friendship, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Cross-faction relationship, Torture, Alcohol/Drugs, PTSD, Slavery, Suicidal thoughts, Switching alignment
Summary: There was a time when the Combaticons were Autobots in good standing, members of the Elite Guard. But then a deal went wrong and they were betrayed, leaving chaos in their wake and others to pick up the pieces. Smokescreen was one of those left behind - living out the rest of his life with his half of the bond he had once shared with Swindle both raw and numb. With the help of a new faction and the friends he made therein, Smokescreen was able to move on with his life and almost forget about his former Conjux and bond-mate. And then the unthinkable happened. Megatron found the Combaticons in their prison and revived them, forcing them to become Decepticons and unknowingly reopening wounds thought long closed. But those old wounds and that ancient bond may be just what’s needed to end the war as everyone has known it. Pity that some people prefer the status quo and others are unwilling to put aside old grudges for long enough to take advantage of the opportunities presented. But, a someone once said: “Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight / Got to kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight.” (Bruce Cockburn, Lovers in Dangerous Times)
Smokescreen sat on the uncomfortable chair in the even more uncomfortable room and waited, hands folded on the table, radiating nothing but peace and serenity as he waited. There was no outward sign of the terror roiling through his spark as he waited for what he knew would be an interrogation.
The sole door, set in a wall next to what could only be a one-way mirror, and a thin, wiry flyer entered the room, staring intently at a data pad.
“Smokescreen of Praxis?” the mech asked.
Smokescreen remained silent. He had run enough interrogations to know the drill backwards and forwards by this point and he wasn’t going to fall for the distracted bureaucrat game.
The mech looked up at Smokescreen and for the barest instant a smile pulled at his lips. He was clearly looking forward to breaking his subject. Smokescreen didn’t know Acidlock personally, but he did know him by reputation. The green and black flyer was notorious for taking far too much pleasure in his work and continuing to use enhanced interrogation techniques well after they were no longer needed. Apparently it was only the best for Smokescreen.
Acidlock sat down across from Smokescreen and smiled pleasantly.
“Come now, you know the drill. I need to verify some things before we can continue,” he said. “And no, refusing to play along won’t make this end any sooner. So, Smokescreen of Praxis?”
“Yes,” Smokescreen finally said after allowing the silence to stretch out a beat longer than needed.
“You are the fourth creation of the eighth Imperium House of Praxis. You work with the Tactical Deception Unit working under Grindrift and specializing in intelligence gathering. You have been in a conjux relationship with Swindle of Kalis for three vorn. And he is a member of the Elite Guard Special Operations Unit designated as Combaticons, working as their weapons’ specialist. Do you agree with all statements made?”
“What’s this all about?” Smokescreen asked.
“Please answer the question. After all, we don’t want this to drag on any longer than it needs to,” Acidlock replied.
“And I know my rights not only as a citizen of Iacon but also as a member in good standing with the Iaconian military. Now what is this about?”
Acidlock’s smile somehow managed to widen and become more predatory at the request.
“Then as you know your rights - and the system, I’m guessing - you also know that we can hold you for sixteen days before laying any charges, and we don’t need to advise you of those charges until such time as you are formally charged. Now, Smokescreen, Do you really want to spend the next sixteen days in here while your conjux is undergoing his trial?”
Smokescreen ex-vented softly.
“Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No,” he said.
“Excuse me?” Acidlock asked and Smokescreen couldn’t quite hide his amusement at the interrogator’s confusion.
“The answers to your questions. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No.”
Acidlock’s visor brightened slightly. “The official state records show that you and Swindle filed your conjux endurae request three vorn ago.”
Smokescreen leaned back in his chair, ignoring the pinch to his doors, and looked at Acidlock as if he was more than a little dim.
“No, no it doesn’t. Swindle and I formalized our conjux endurae three vorn, two hundred fifty-eight years, seven months, two weeks, and five days ago. So no. I don’t agree with all of your statements.”
Acidlock cycled his optics and then leaned back with a laugh.
“Well, if there was any question about you being a Praxian … So tell me, do you also want to provide me with the minutes and seconds as well?”
“Do you want them?” Smokescreen asked blandly. “I had nothing to do with what Swindle is accused of. I was at work at the time the attack happened and I have several witnesses including two high ranking officers in the Special Services Office to corroborate that.”
Acidlock swiped through a few pages on his pad.
“Yes, we’ve already spoken to Grindrift. He tells us that you weren’t acting yourself. Quote: he was distracted and jumpy and said he was feeling off. He said he quote: thought he had that processing bug that’s been going around, but between you and me, I think he’s sparked. My conjux was the same way when he was sparked with our first. End quote. Tell me something Smokescreen, are you sparked?”
Smokescreen’s optics narrowed and he sat up straighter.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to see a medic yet,” Smokescreen replied. “We both have locks in place but given that locks are only ninety-seven point three five eight percent effective there is a slight possibility that I might be. Or I might have been fighting off that processor bug. I had been feeling off for the last two days.”
“Or you could have been nervous because you knew what the Combaticons had planned,” Acidlock said.
Smokescreen remained silent.
“So, tell me, when did you first learn that the Combaticons were missing in action?” Acidlock asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Well then when did you know that they had defected?”
“I have no reason to believe that they did.”
Smokescreen was pleased to see that his answers were getting under Acidlock’s plating. He was far too accustomed to interrogating mechs who were terrified of him and this time his prey was remaining painfully calm and composed.
“How about we jump to the day of the attack. When did you learn that the Combaticons had attacked the Central Council Building?”
“At the same time as the rest of Iacon; when the media broadcast the alert and curfew order.”
“And you expect me to believe that Swindle didn’t tell you anything about his plans?” Acidlock asked and there was a slight edge to his voice now.
Smokescreen shrugged his doors slightly.
“We both work with classified information. It’s better for both of us if we never discuss work. No risk of being compromised that way.”
“You’ve been conjux for three vorn-” Acidlock raised his hand when Smokescreen opened his mouth. “For longer than three vorn and in all that time you never once spoke about work? You expect me to believe that?”
Again Smokescreen shrugged. “You can believe whatever you like. It won’t change the facts.”
Acidlock turned off the data pad and sighed.
“Okay, well then I guess we’re done with this part of the interview process. Since you’ve decided to be reticent with the truth.”
He stood and moved to the door.
“Someone will be by in a few hours to move you to a location better suited to our next conversation.”
Part 2