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Characters:Starscream, @cyclonus Location: The Rocky Mountains Content Warnings: N/A Plot Summary: In the American Rockies, Decepticon Starscream and the unaffiliated Cyclonus go head to head to claim the ominously-named Terminus Blade.
Keeping secrets among the Decepticons, an organization where one had little to no privacy, was a chore.
It had taken a lot of effort to get a hold of information on the Terminus Blade. Even more effort to decrypt what hadn't been decrypted already; he wasn't terribly good at that sort of thing, for one, and for another, he had next to no free time with which to try. But while the others were distracted by their other fancy toys, Starscream had worked on his little project, and finally, finally, he'd gotten himself a location.
The Rocky Mountains.
Unlike the rest of his work, sneaking out had not been hard at all. He was known for taking flights alone to calm himself – had been known, in the early days, to go out with his trine, but that was impossible now. Now all he had to do was find the damned thing, stash it somewhere safe – with Leah would do – and if his work was found and he was asked, say the Autobots stole it right from under him. Easy. Too easy. Starscream felt his spark swell with pride.
The Seeker circled over the GPS coordinates in jet modes, scanning with every tool he had to attempt to pinpoint the exact location and praying he wasn't interrupted. He didn't think he would be; he didn't sense any Autobots anywhere close. But they always seemed to appear when they were least wanted, and his luck had been nothing but slag for the last few eons. He wouldn't be surprised, not really, if they reared their ugly helms.
As soon as he got a good signal, Starscream dropped altitude, landing on his pedes on a rocky outcrop leading into a cave. His crimson optics scanned the area, and when he saw nothing, still, he entered, his wings flicking. So far, so good.
Although Cyclonus knew that First Aid would not remain with him forever, he also was doing his best to help the little medic recover from his crash. Aid was a sweet thing, with a much kinder spark than the warrior had seen in years— CENTURIES, even. And for someone like Cyclonus, seeing someone so kind and innocent meant that he had to actively protect and shield that nativity from the world.
Of course, just because his world had increased by one didn’t mean that the rest of the universe wasn’t moving on. With a little help from First Aid and his human friend— a strange little human with a spirit to rival First Aid’s innocence— he had managed to hear of the Decepticon’s search for the old relics. With a little help from both, and perhaps from a few unwilling Vehicons, Cyclonus had found the location of the relic, and he was off.
Protecting First Aid and the human and their home meant gathering power, even if he hated using Megatron’s own tactics against him.
Without a word to his new roommate, the purple warrior took off. He pushed his engines to their limit, desperate to reach the location before the Decepticons. Unfortunately, as he arrived, he noted another mech— a Seeker?— going into the cave. With a low rumble of his engines, the mech transformed, landing outside the cave. For a moment, he debated trying to sneak, to steal the sword when the other wasn’t looking, but then shook the idea out of his head.
He was a WARRIOR, dammit. He was not a spy, and he was certainly not dishonorable. If he was going to get this sword, then he was going to do so by his own abilities. He would use his own strength, and not some backhanded attack.
“If you wish to keep your spark,” he rumbled, and took a step forward, “step out and abandon this mission. I will not tell you a second time.”
And there, Starscream supposed, was his luck running out as it usually did, right on cue.
The Seeker froze, his wings pinning down as he ran every gauntlet of his favorite game, “Who Does That Voice Belong To,” only even beginning to relax when he realized that... Well, he wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't Megatron, and that, in itself, was a relief. At least he didn't have to look forward to any daily beatings in the foreseeable future, not unless it was a fellow Decepticon. Which brought him to his next conclusion: it wasn't any Decepticon he knew, or, at least, it wasn't any Decepticon he'd had contact with recently, and so, not anyone from the Nemesis. After another split-second of thinking, he decided no Autobot he knew owned it either, and so it was either some rogue Neutral, or someone he had never met before.
Taking away the possibility that it was anyone he knew, in part, took away his fear of the other mech. But even if he wasn't afraid, he knew this wouldn't be an easy battle to fight. Starscream was trapped just inside the mouth of a cave – he was a speed-build, and close quarters were not his forte – with his only exit blocked by a hostile party. He'd have to either turn and fight, which was inadvisable, or run or fly inwards and pray the other only had close-range or melee weaponry, which was also inadvisable. Never did it occur to him to give up the sword he hadn't even seen yet.
He could not. He would not. He had come this far.
Starscream had heard the turbines, so knew his assailant was a flyer. But even then, knocking them from the cliff face they stood on was his best bet – the initial fall would stun almost any mech, even most flyers worth their wings, and it would take a few precious moments after they'd realized what happened to transform. Those were moments Starscream could use; the odds were in his favor.
Without saying a word, without so much as sniveling, the Seeker whirled, wings flaring, and launched two missiles directly at his assailant's chassis.
If he knew one thing about the Decepticons, he knew they were desperate. He knew they would fight until their final sparkbeat, even if it meant sacrificing their lives for a cause that meant less than DIRT. So when his fellow Seeker whirled, Cyclonus jumped back. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to dodge both of the missiles, though one of them sailed harmlessly beneath his feet.
The other smashed into his shoulder, shattering his armor. A curse escaped him as pain flashed through his form. For a moment, warnings flashed on his HUD, demanding his attention. He dismissed them with a snarl. He cared not for the bleeding fuel line, or for the smashed joint. His sword was in his left hand, and that blast had taken out his right arm.
No real harm done, not for a warrior like him. Painful, maybe, but no real harm.
Taking a deep vent, pushing the pain away, Cyclonus dove forward. His target was clear, as was the fury in his optics. It was because of that rage, that pain, that ANGER, that the warrior threw aside his sword. A silver servo reached out and wrapped around the other’s throat. His pedes hit the ground, and he used that leverage to wrench Starscream off the ground.
He had only just started working out a threat when his optics finally focused. For once, he managed to quell his anger just long enough to think, and those red optics landed on his prey’s— on STARSCREAM’S.
“Well. This is a predicament we have found ourselves in.”
The other mech was not unbalanced by his missile, even though it hit directly. His opponent was Tetrahexian, then, and a study one at that. The Seeker went into panic, wings dropping down to be less of a target, but before Starscream could react, the other had his servo wrapped around his throat. Starscream screeched, the noise strangled, and began to claw whatever plating he could reach and kick at anything close by as his opponent lifted him off the ground.
It wasn’t a position he was unused to, but it certainly wasn’t a position he liked.
But the other mech stopped, for just a moment; and then the other mech spoke. And as Starscream’s optics found his, he finally recognized the voice of a mech whose presence he hadn’t been blessed with in centuries. This wasn’t the time for being nostalgic or giddy over their reunion, though; Starscream was still in a bit of a predicament, one that his beloved cousin was currently causing.
“Let me down!” he hissed with what breath he could muster, trying and failing to bring in a vent. His internals were screaming at him for not cooling himself, blinking warnings that he kept having to put on ignore. “Cyclonus, you brute, let me go! You’re strangling me.”
For a moment, Cyclonus held his cousin exactly where he was, suspended in midair by his throat. It took him a moment to fully register that, yes, after all these centuries of fighting, they had found each other. More than that, they were both all right— more or less— and going after the same relic. But that wasn’t important. The relic wasn’t important.
STARSCREAM WAS.
With a well-suppressed chuckle, the purple warrior slowly lowered Starscream to the ground, being careful to make sure his feet touched before releasing him. Once his fellow Seeker was released, Cyclonus used his one good arm to wrap around his chassis and pull. Metal scraped against metal as one cousin held the other, enjoying a brief moment of solitude with the one he believed he had lost.
“You are alive.”
The words were barely even breathed. Instead, the slipped from his lips, a mere ghost of the growl he had been using minutes ago. Red optics softened, and the taller of the two lowered his helm, to press his forehead to Starscream’s. For a moment, he did not dare to speak away, afraid of scaring away the gift that Primus had dropped in his lap.
But all good moments must end, and so Cyclonus pulled away. His features hardened, though less in preparation for battle, and more in confusion. He wasn’t sure what Starscream was doing working for Megatron, but he did know that he had to get him out. No one deserved to work beneath that… despicable warlord.