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Characters: @sunstreaker, Open Location: Africa, the Savannah Content Warnings: Cybertronian swearing Plot Summary: Sunstreaker crash lands on Earth in an escape pod and instantly dislikes it.
He should have just put on a distress signal and stayed there. But, no. He'd decided to explore a bit to ensure his surroundings were safe. Blaster pistol in hand, he stared in horror at the scenery that lay beyond the smoking wreckage of his pod and the small crater it had left. Everything was organic.
A full-body shudder ran through the frontliner. Primus. He could already imagine the smearing of organic fluids on his plating. There was plant matter all over the ground and it was going to get on his pedes. And his scanners were picking up organic life forms. Disgusting little fleshbags made of soft tissues and fluids. He shuddered again. Out of all the planets Prime could have chosen...
He edged away from the wreckage, moving up the slant of the crater. Toward the plant life. His faceplates were a mask of disgust as he came to the edge of the blackened earth and peered down at the green fibers on the ground.
A new and unidentified ship crashes down on Earth, contents unknown and possibly extremely dangerous? Better send the new recruit in alone, she seems willing enough. While they weren't Starscream's exact words, Spacewarp didn't feel any better about them. She was used to being sent in on a target alone with minimal intelligence, but in the past she had preferred having competent officers on the other side to guide her efforts. This time, it was a simple identify and report mission, nothing out of the ordinary from the surface.
There were a lot of problems Spacewarp had about the designs of many of Earth's jets and planes, but by the Allspark she could find none with the form she presently occupied. It was better suited for atmospheric flight than her previous form was, as she was slicing through the skies like a hot knife through butter.
She closed in on the target, lowering her altitude to pass through the clouds floating in the sky, optics locked on the ground. Like a blot on the otherwise pristine savanna sat a crater, recently blasted out. Spacewarp enhanced the image, showing the escape pod lodged in the center of the pit, as well as the bot emerging from the crash. Decepticons were many things, but they'd never been known for ostentatiously coating themselves in gold. Then again, Spacewarp was not one to profile another bot. She lowered herself once again, now flying in below the clouds to hopefully catch a peak of an insignia on the little gold interloper.
Should he just...? Ew, no. Nevermind. He'd moved to step out of the crater and realized that, yes, yes indeed, when stepped on the plant matter on the ground did emit a disgusting sort of...juiciness when crushed. He'd had a thought of taking some cover in a relatively close stand of trees, but, he wasn't walking over there. He took a few steps back from the edge of the crater, fighting the urge to gag like he'd had bad energon. The dirt hadn't been so bad at first. With the plant juice on his pede, though, it was sticking...and turning to a thin film of mud.
"Frag!" Sunstreaker growled, "Less than a cycle on this Primus-damned planet and it's already...lubricated on me!"
Muttering angrily, he marched back to the pod and found a place where an edge had been made during the crash. Glaring venomously, he scraped the bottom of his pede over it, shuddering again when he saw the filth left behind. His insignia, bright red against a gold background, rather matched his own expression at the moment. A fierce scowl overtook his face as he observed himself. Well...at least he hadn't-
He paused, staring at a place on his arm, towards his wrist.
The paint had been scuffed in the landing.
"...Fragit!" the frontliner roared, kicking a piece of wreckage in his outrage and sending it flying off, out of the crater and into the savannah beyond.
He was an angry little bot, wasn't he? That gold paint wrapped around all that fury sort of reminded Spacewarp of herself, many eons ago. Anyway... she zoomed back in, and was rewarded with a glimpse of a bright red Autobot symbol plastered on his chest. Jackpot. She maintained her current altitude, firing up long range comms to call in her report. "Confirmed, we have an Autobot. They're alone, arrived in what looks to be an escape pod. Orders?" Spacewarp waited, before responding. "Understood."
Back in her universe, under her Megatron, they'd capture and convert Autobots before having to resort to destroying them. Times were tougher here, she figured.
The seeker broke off her gentle glide through the skies, diving towards the Autobot and his escape pod. Spacewarp powered up the massive cannon mounted on her fuselage, feeling like it had been too long since she'd used it on a target. She remembered being told that such a weapon was too large to be mounted on a single craft, and that it could not have been made more precise; Spacewarp had enjoyed proving the skeptics wrong.
She loosed a massive orange destruction-beam from the weapon, aimed at the Autobot's escape pod with the intent to completely annihilate it, cutting off it's passenger's chance of calling for help. Spacewarp followed through by firing off a quick salvo of energon missiles, this time aimed at the Autobot himself. She'd have preferred a proper fight, but her orders had been clear.
Sunstreaker was caught off-guard by the first blast.
It was fortunate that his programmed reflexes kicked in. He immediately responded, his processor sliding into 'battle mode'. He leapt forward and rolled instinctively away from the pod as the blast sent it erupting in a BOOM that sent shrapnel flying in all directions. Fortunately, the frontliner's armor was too heavy for the metal to pierce it, and the debris merely pinged off his frame. The distress signal from the pod should have gone off immediately upon his landing, but, he didn't know if it had been given enough time to be received.
Snarling, he completed his roll and came up on his feet, only to again narrowly dodge as the missiles zipped past him. It was a deadly dance, but, he was light on his feet for such a large mech. One of them nearly clipped his shoulder as he twisted away to dodge it. It impacted behind him, the resulting explosion deepening the crater and sending him tumbling.
Right out into the plant matter beyond the crater's edge.
He came up cursing, his denta gritted in fury as he realized that, not only was he under attack and alone, the Decepticon who'd fired on him had likely scorched his armor with those missiles, and now he was rolling in organic filth.
With a growl, the frontliner came up in a crouch, activating his own missile system. The panel on his left arm retracted and he leveled it at the jet overhead. He'd normally had preferred to get them down here, maybe even practice his jet judo. Now, though, he was pissed.
His internal targeting system locked the missiles onto the jet and he fired. Two small explosives soared at high speed toward the airborne con. Then, Sunstreaker was moving again, pushing away his hatred of the organic matter in favor of his own safety. A still bot was a dead bot.
He opened his comms, knowing that, if the 'cons already knew he was there, he had nothing to lose in simply using the usual frequencies.
::This is Sunstreaker. I just crash landed and I'm under attack. Does anyone read me?::
So he had some teeth on him after all. Whoever he was, he was quick enough to dodge a death beam and a missile salvo; not too shabby as far as Spacewarp was concerned. That, or her aim needed work. The jet pulled out of its dive, spitting out countermeasures to confuse the incoming missiles. Sure enough they veered off of their intended trajectory, chasing the mixture of chaff and flares instead of Spacewarp.
Just as the Decepticon pulled out of her roll, she picked up a long-wave transmission, presumably coming from the Autobot she'd just engaged. It was unlikely that she'd get anything important besides a panicked message, but she listened in anyway.
::This is Sunstreaker. I just crash landed and I'm under attack. Does anyone read me?::
Despite the fact that the cannon on her back was charged up and ready to fire again, Spacewarp stayed her hand from the trigger. A strange sensation overtook her as she played the beginning of the distress message over and over again dozens of time within the span of a picosecond.
Sunstreaker....
A deluge of other questions flooded into Spacewarp's mind. She was looking at her in-universe counterpart; and they were still an Autobot. Destroying him was out of the question, for now. It wasn't every day that you had the chance to speak to yourself from another dimension, and Spacewarp was keen on not letting such a chance slip away.
Spacewarp once again broke out of her cruise, now barreling down towards the earth. She transformed half way through her descent, landing with an earth-shattering slam in front her target. A tense moment passed. How were you supposed to approach your counterpart after just trying to wipe him from existence?
Regardless of what the proper procedure was, Spacewarp holstered her weapons and retracted her faceplate.
Sunstreaker hissed a litany of curses that would have earned him a wrench to the head had Ratchet been about. What was the fragging point of heat seeking missiles if 'Cons could just confuse them? It wasn't the first time it'd happened and it wouldn't be the last. Primus dammit all, he needed to fix that, somehow. Given that he survived this. He hated fighting without Sides' at his back. If it was the two of them, they'd bring the sky borne nuisance down hard.
He withdrew his blaster from his subspace, preparing to fire manually. It seemed as though the 'Con was getting closer. Good, maybe a few potshots-
Holy frag, they weren't just getting closer, they were divebombing. He prepared himself for a strafing maneuver, or even an attempt to ram him. It was due to his tensing that he leapt back as the jet slammed in front of him, blaster ready. When he landed, he kept his knees slightly bent, gun trained, ready for this fight to escalate. At least now they were on the ground.
Then the 'Con was standing and...putting her weapons away. It was enough to stall him for just a moment. He'd just decided that, well, if she wanted to make it easier for him, it was her funeral, when she spoke. Her question made him pause again.
She must have picked up his name from the comm he'd sent. Why had it caught her interest? He struggled against his anger and the urge to just blast her, gun still leveled.
"What's it to you?"he sneered, his faceplates twisted in an unpleasant expression of disdain.
There were billions of things Spacewarp thought of saying to explain herself, but then she remembered why the Seekers of her universe carried exabyte black box recorders. Sunstreaker was most likely going to blast her at the slightest provocation, but to be fair if somebody had shot down Spacewarp's ship, she'd probably do the same. Best to just resort to the ol' 'proof of other universes' trick she'd used with Shockwave and Silentsky: Holograms.
"This'll take a moment..." she replied, intending to let the projection do the literal talking.
A moment later and Spacewarp's eyes projected two bright cones of light, warping and bending around each other to search for the proper shapes. A single still image was the first to take shape; it was like looking through one's reflection through a broken mirror. The helm, the frame, the Autobot symbol... the gold...
It was Sunstreaker, albeit shorter and a femme, but not without that same trademarked arrogant gold finish. The video began playback.
Sunstreaker looked visibly annoyed, her voice like a younger and much angrier Spacewarp, "You think the Rust Sea Devils'll be looking this good at the show?" The femme barked, pointing to her shiny gold plating. "They don't look HALF as good as me 'n Sideswipe... who might I add, should get her AFT OUT HERE ALREADY!"
The femme pounded on what appeared to be a door directly behind her, followed by a reply from presumably Sideswipe, "Hold ON! Not everyone just dunks themselves in a vat of boiling paint to look good for a show, you know."
Sunstreaker turned back to whatever had been recording the both of them, rolling her optics, "She's just mad she can't afford it."
The playback froze Sunstreaker's face in front of her in-universe counterpart before it vanished, leaving only Spacewarp to fill the empty space. She obviously wasn't the same bot she'd been millions of years ago, not to mention the wings, but the helmet the two femmes shared remained in place, strangely.
The seeker folded her arms, looking at the ground awkwardly, before back to Sunstreaker.
"I wouldn't believe it if somebody else told me personally, but I'm currently having a conversation with myself, myself being you... from another universe."
Sunstreaker twitched when the Decepticon began to project her lightshow. Sure, he'd let her do it, wondering just how this femme knew him, but that didn't mean he wasn't wary. He watched her skeptically. What, was this supposed to be some sort of message? Maybe a plea from seekers everywhere to stop jet judoing them?
That wasn't what happened.
The frontliner's expression melted into a mass of confusion as the image solidified. It was him. But female. What the frag? He stared at the image, sure that this was some kind of weird 'Con trick or distraction. But, seriously, it was just too weird? What was the purpose?
And then the video was playing? Oh Primus, it even sounded like him...just...female. And that was Sides. Definitely Sides. How many times had they had similar spats? Despite his better judgment, he watched, processor whirling, his grip on the gun slackening somewhat.
Then it was gone and the 'Con was left. And, for the first time, he saw the similarities. It was her, him, whatever. The Sunstreaker from the video. Or, it was supposed to be. He watched in disbelief as she looked down awkwardly, like she didn't know quite how to proceed. He listened as she spoke.
Then, he gritted his denta, aiming the gun once more.
"Another universe? That's a load of scrap. You expect me to believe that you're, what, my alternate self? Just because you showed me that little clip?"
Spacewarp held her resolute stance before Sunstreaker. He hadn't immediately opened fire on her after the playback, which was a fairly good sign. The Autobot was in denial about the truth, that was certain, but she felt his curiosity peaking out as well. It was all she had to go on; Spacewarp hoped it would be enough.
"Of course not. I wouldn't trust anybody who'd just blown up my ship, either. Sorry about that, by the way." she answered, beginning to slowly pace around Sunstreaker.
She began to put the pieces together in her head. During her stay on the Nemesis she took a great deal of time off to examine and compare both histories of Cybertron, to try and find at which points they intersected. She had no idea about Sunstreaker's own history, but she knew her own. There was one point she needed to bring up, so the Decepticon stopped pacing.
"You have a Sideswipe as well, don't you. What... happened to them?"
In Sunstreaker's experience, over the past four million years of war, Decepticons behaved a certain way. The fact that this one had for only a short time before stopping threw him off. He didn't like it when people didn't do as expected. Not at all. That aside, he wasn't even sure if what she was saying was true. Her faction's name literally had 'Deception' in there. But...he'd been around long enough to at least recognize some signs of video editing, and he hadn't spotted any in that clip.
Even as he thought, though, his anger bubbled beneath the surface. His digit itched, wanting nothing more than to pull the trigger.
"It was a piece of slag pod," he said, scowling fiercely, "I don't trust you because you're a fragging 'Con."
As she began to pace around him, he stood up to his full height, all the better to turn with her. There was no way in Pit she was getting behind him. As his optics remained trained on her, he studied her, his artist's eye picking up the little details. From the coloring and shape of her helm to the placement of the tiniest biolight, he took it in. He could definitely see the odd similarities. Was she telling the truth? That she was his female counterpart?
If that was the case...
His own question flashed across his processor even as she asked hers.
"We got separated in the Exodus. I figured he would get Prime's message and follow it, just like I did," he said shortly, "Where's yours?"
He wasn't keen on the idea of a weird femme version of his brother jumping him while this one tried to keep him distracted.
And there was the question of the hour. It was hardly the easiest thing she'd ever been asked, but whenever the subject came up, Spacewarp had a nonverbal response ready to give. She turned her eyes downward away from Sunstreaker, before looking off to her left. There wasn't anything in particular about the African savanna that gave the answer the Autobot had requested, which is why it wasn't what she was really looking at. It was her left wing. Aside from the faint splashes of aged gold around her helm, Spacewarp's body was completely black and white; save for the wing. It was the only part of the seeker's frame to have received any paint whatsoever. The entire wing was painted red.
The Decepticons might've already approached her with the join or die offer, but Spacewarp had planned to flip them the proverbial bird and run off with Sideswipe. Sideswipe. The thought of her sister was one too painful to bear on most occasions; she'd pushed the memory down so deep that she rarely thought of her most days, a fact which Spacewarp secretly hated herself for. The Decepticon neglected looking back up at her counterpart, instead choosing to continue looking upon her wing silently. Of all the people in existence, the one standing before her was possibly the only one who could truly understand.
That was the unspoken answer within her movements. As her optics focused on the red wing, something he'd assumed was just an odd color choice, he realized the truth.
Her Sideswipe was dead.
That realization was enough to cause his spark to squeeze painfully, almost as though it had flickered dangerously. It wasn't even his Sideswipe, but the understanding that a Sideswipe was dead as accompanied by a sense of wrongness. He reached for the splitspark bond, just to reassure himself that his worst fears hadn't been realized. That his Sideswipe wasn't dead. Primus, he didn't know what he would do if that ever happened...
"...How?" he asked, more quietly than before, this new knowledge siphoning his anger from him.
There were a multitude of complexities which Sunstreaker could not understand, or ones that Spacewarp lacked the proper time to explain. The transition between the histories of two separate universes was too daunting of a concept to explain in theory, much less in practice. On top of that, the memory itself still caused Spacewarp a great deal of pain. It wasn't as if her sister had been executed for a crime, or shot in an alley and left to rust. There had been billions that died along with her; it would have been selfish to swear vengeance in her name only, but she should have.
She projected another image, this time an image of her Cybertron. It was the same as when she'd shown Silent, a dying world orbited by rings of its own destruction, the core bleeding out from a massive hole in the northern hemisphere. Spacewarp turned the projection so that Cybertron's exposed core faced Sunstreaker.
"The wrong place, at the wrong time."
Shoutbox
Please respect the space and don't hesitate to ask questions!
altria : please dont be dead?
Jun 14, 2023 22:40:34 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
Dec 17, 2022 6:02:02 GMT
Partia: Is this still alive?
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