Short of a Key

[Deleted]

Characters: @maleki , @iremia
Location: Autobot Stockade
Content Warnings: Small amounts of blood, possible mild language
Plot Summary: Maleki wakes up behind Autobot lines after his second battle. Iremia is tasked with ensuring the vehicon doesn't break loose, but Maleki may prove a handful.

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His prison was simple: He was in a small box-shaped cell, six walls enclosing him in the prison including the energy shield that prevented his escape. The energy field radiated it’s neutral white-light, it was almost crystal clear. The field still allowed him to talk to anyone outside, but his voice was slightly muffled. The walls were bleak and without cracks of any kind that exposed wires, small vents in the ceiling provided pitiful air circulation. He hated his containment cell, and the fact that the Autobots had captured him like this. Worst of all was the powerlessness he was feeling at the moment. He didn’t know what the Autobots were going to do to him. Torture, dissections or experiments could be conducted on him at anytime.

The vehicon rose from his sitting, his gears creaking a tired groan as he rose to full height: the mech was twenty five feet tall, his armor mixtures of grim greys, blacks, with sickly yellow streaks here and there. He lacked any biolights, the only bright thing on him being his blazing sun-yellow visor piercing into anything it gazed at with a challenging light. Every edge of his armor would have been razor sharp if it eren’t for the battle he’d endured, and the spar he’d lost. He was battered, bleeding in the ribs. He stood with the same strength he’d shown at the beginning of any battle. He raised a fist, smashing it against the light-shield. Needless to say, it didn’t yield.

Maleki grunted as he looked around his prison. There was nothing. He didn’t need to check his weapons; his rifle was gone for the moment. He didn’t have any spare grenades, pistols, or anything he knew he could use to get out. The Autobots had stripped him clean. That was to say except for his brass knuckles. They were one with his servo, so they weren’t going anywhere. Still. They weren’t going to do much against the energy field. Maleki’s seeker wings tilted down as he paced, trying his hardest to figure how to get out. There had to be a way of some sort.

“Frag it.” Maleki muttered, “As much of a pit as they were, I knew the simulations weren’t gonna be enough.” Maleki knew really he was to blame. Being reckless got him here. He was as scared as heck. He’d rather have died than be a hostage! The endless things the Autobots could do to him were terrible. He couldn’t stand the thought of an experiment chamber. But being angry was going to get him no where. Maleki breathed in, trying his hardest to cool down…

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Light footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, approaching the holding cells.
A femme, less than half his size, cautiously made her way in before stopping in front of his cell. In contrast to his own battle worn appearance, she looked like she was fresh off the assembly line. Shiny white and teal blue armor, with barely noticeable scratches. Having only recently joined the The Great War, Iremia had barely down anything other then small recon missions, of which she was extremely thankful. A Scout had seemed the best role, given her small stature and non-violent views.

Teal blue optics glanced down at her data pad, detailing her orders for the day and what intel they had on her new friend.

...Which proved to be very little, other then the fact that he was a vehicon, and that extreme caution was advised. Apparently, he had not come quietly. Not very surprising, from the looks of it he'd seen more than his fair share of brawls. Agitated, tense, he paced the length of cell; muttering something under his breath as he did so. A small flash of sympathy moved her spark, what did he think was going to happen to him, now a prisoner of war? She was sure she'd be feeling much the same way where their roles reversed.

She knew-or rather would try to make sure-his treatment here would be much better than whatever he might be imagining. Or, perhaps he was planning an escape? She gave the cell a once over, not seeing any noticeable weaknesses in its design. She hoped it didn't come to that, for both their sakes. She wouldn't harm him, but neither would she let him just walk out the front door either. A tired sigh escaped her as the reality of war made itself known again.

She wondered briefly if she should say something, though she wasn't sure what she could say that wouldn't surely set him off. Unable to decide on anything, she simply crouched down onto the floor in front of the cell, assuming a Full Lotus position as she waited for him to take notice of her presence.
 

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Maleki stood still, trying to keep himself calm. Quietly, he closed his eyes, his visor flickering off while he took a deep inhale, before his visor blared back online as he ex-vented. Calming down was so difficult. The tiny space he had for a cell was making it difficult to think straight. Oh how he hated small, cramped spaces. He missed the open sky already. Maleki grunted to himself. His EM field radiating impatiently as he tried to level his helm. It was no secret he’d never been known for complex plans. There was just something so satisfying about charging, and reveling at the chaos of the battle field. The thrill was spectacular, whenever his life was on the line.

As he gradually bunkered down, he noticed a femme right in front of his cell. He tilted his helm to the side as he hadn’t seen or heard her coming at all. Her small size. She probably hardly makes a sound in the first place. Then there’s this energy field muffling about everything.. Maleki thought. “Chilling out” had taken enough time for her to come without being noticed too. For a few minutes, his visor simply stared back at her, wondering what to do with her. Nothing was adding up.

She wasn’t here to gloat. She didn’t have any sassy smiles on her face. She didn’t look like she was here to torture him. No tools, no trays, and no one else around to strap him down. He stared hard at her, confused at the peaceful look on her faceplate. Nothing in his textbooks had shown an Autobot like this. Maybe she was holding back a more evil side to her, trying to fool him somehow. The possibilities are endless. Maleki told himself.

“What’re you here for?” Maleki said cautiously, half expecting her to lie. Everyoen but his brothers were suspect of that really. The higher ups were liars because well---they were. They held back stuff, and carved whatever story or reason for him to shoot into a satisfying story that made him glad to shoot and kill stuff. Autobots were liars because they were the enemy. And it just sounded fitting to call them so. If they were the baddies who slaughtered his brothers, then of course they were liars. Still. Something didn’t add up about this femme.

“You’re not one of those annoying folks who try to tell me I’ve been deceived and or that I’m going to be recycled for the greater good right? Because I got plenty of that nonsense when I was being dragged from the ground I’d been punched into.” Maleki said, pacing again, this time his helm fixed on her. He honestly didn’t know what to expect, but he was fully prepared to lash out. Maleki took note of her paint job. She didn’t look like she’d seen many battles. He hadn’t seen many either, but it only took two to look like you had. Front-lining did that to you.

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She watched as he seemed to be attempting to relax, agitation flowing off his form. Claustrophobia? Or just frustration because of his capture, maybe even a mix of both? Her silent ponderings where interrupted by his abrupt question. She straightened her back, considering how she should answer, as a calm stare met his harsh one.

"Guard duty." She replied simply, as if that wasn't the most obvious fact in the world. Not long after he started pacing again, gaze never wavering as the same harsh stare bore into her head. She listened intently as he spoke again, seemingly getting more agitated as time wore on. Like he was just waiting for something to happen, preparing for whatever it was he thought she might be planning to do. She admired his spirit, stuck in an enemy strong hold and still bruising for a fight. Admirable, if not more than a bit reckless.

Her optics dimmed as she listened, trying to find an answer that might help ease the growing tension in the room, or at least one that would not add to it.

“Exchanging names usually comes before asking someone about their opinion of your life choices. And mine would be a very poor one anyways, I know literally nothing about you except that you are a Decepticon and currently a prisoner of war. I don’t know what circumstances led to you getting involved in this war, or what made you decide to become a Decepticon, so making any judgement at this point would just be foolish.”

She paused for a moment, letting her answer hang between them before speaking again.

“I am Iremia, in case you were wondering.” He probably didn't give one iota about it, but there was no reason she couldn't try and be civil. Truth be told, she really wanted to ask him about his views on the war, but given his earlier statements any answer she got would be...less than friendly.

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Maleki listened carefully to Iremia. He never ceased his stride, as he preferred to continue moving. He knew it made his pistons looser. He thanks lack of being able to receive sensation form any part of his body he couldn't feel a thing, but he knew it helped. Iremia. Not a bad name compared to all the others I've heard. Maleki considered the formula for naming most femmes and mechs used; put two random words together and boom you have a guy's name. Like Break-down. Or Aim-down. Or Gear-shift. Then there was the endless amounts of people who had words like 'strike(r)', 'star', 'night', and 'shade' . In a world of redundant names, Iremia was going to be easy to remember. Maleki was glad he'd be able to take himself seriously if he was going to curse at the name. 

So she was a guard...and she had a peaceful looking act going. She seemed to be one of those more level headed bots. Maybe he'd find a way to crack her, maybe he wouldn't. It didn't really matter though, he was behind enemy lines, and he needed to get out anyways. 

"'What circumstances did I join the Decepticons'?" Maleki repeated once of her sentences, "I'm a vehicon. I was manufactured alongside others." Maleki said, although his voice had some pride in it. It wasn't because he was proud to be a Decepticon, no, he was proud to be a special breed of war-machine. Prison-locked or not. Maleki placed his servos behind his back, his visor staring at the wall for a second, as he continued thinking of who the heck to get out. The field was seamlessly connected to the walls of his cell. He looked for wires but found none. He'd need to test the walls somehow, without setting the femme off. Oh she knew he was trying to get out. Duh. He just didn't want her to see how he was going to figure it out until it was too late. Maybe that wouldn't work but it was worth a shot. 

"Name's Maleki, Iremia." Maleki kept the traces of a hostile predator in his voice, deciding to play along. Maleki wasn't looking for a fight, unless it meant a way out. The femme seemed to not be seeking any trouble. Her voice had a pitch-perfect honesty Maleki only heard from his brothers. So he wouldn't bite back unnecessarily. But he'd keep his guard up. There was no telling when trickery was involved. For all he knew the Autobots could be using the femme to try to get information out of him. He'd see. "I don't get what's going on here. A two-wheeler comes in for guard duty and starts a conversation with a vehicon who got captured a few hours ago. Sounds odd if you ask me. What're you really here for Iremia?" Maleki ended with a direct question. He could be very sarcastic, but being straight to the point was instinct. 

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So, he didn’t seem to have any ill will geared at the Decepticons. She withheld another sigh, who would create life than teach it that its sole purpose was to fight battles? Foolish, foolish waste of life. She hated to see it. Her optics stayed focused on him as he spoke, finally giving her a name to address him with him.

“My apologies, I don’t know as much about the Decepticons as I would like to. Its...not a popular topic here.” Nor was her views on them. Trying to see both sides of the war usually led to such friction between her and her fellow Autobots. Many had tried to “make her see the light”, some out of genuine concern and others out of pure bigotry. But neither had any success. She understood why they did it, it was much easier when one’s view was completely black and white. An excellent tactic, demonize the enemy so no one feels bad about killing them.

A poor excuse, but one too many so eagerly latched onto and believed.

The mech kept pacing, firing back his own set of blunt questions as he continued examining his cell. She was going to have to be careful, he was already suspicious and asking the wrong question or simply too many could ruin her chances of learning anything about Decepticon culture.

“I told you, guard duty.” She repeated, “Though, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to ask you another question.”

She would not push for answers, after all, it wasn’t as if either of them would be going anywhere anytime soon.

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Maleki paused in his pacing for a moment, finding Iremia's mannerisms quite queer. Whatever she was up to it seemed harmless enough. He'd stay on guard nonetheless. Then again he didn't really know anything worth knowing. Still. In a war, details mattered, maybe she was trying to get him to confirm something somehow. Hmmmm. Maleki leaned against the wall, ceasing his impatient strides. 

"You guys don't talk much about us Decepticons?" Maleki furrowed an optic ridge and raised another behind his mask, "That's strange. You Autobots are a hot topic amongst my brothers and I. Let's just say because we're in war, there's a weekly debate on the best way to wipe you Autobots off the face of Cybertron before receiving a new mission." Maleki replied casually. It was a fact in life. If the femme didn't see the picture, Maleki would take the privilege of painting it a little more colorfully for her. 

"Go ahead, keep firing away." Maleki answered levelly at her request, "There's not much to do here. Might as well chat." Maleki began adjusting some of the loose armor on his shoulder plating. He furrowed his brows as he noticed his visor was a little blurred. That couldn't be good. It meant that his body wasn't enjoying itself too much. Maleki glanced over himself, knowing the drill: If his vision was getting blurry it meant he had a bad injury. "

His optics locked onto a jagged piece of metal twisting into his torso, a little coming out the other end. His memory flashed back to him getting shoved into a clump of rubble by the Autobots with no effect. They'd been trying to gut him! 

"Hmph." He grunted, seizing up the large shard of metal. He'd need to get it out...