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Sky and Ground: Castling
Bayverse, Sky and Ground AU
Barricade, Thundercracker, Starscream, Thrust Skywarp, Ratchet
some mild violence
“Almost there, grounder,” Thundercracker’s voice woke Barricade.
“Don’t care,” Barricade muttered. “Can let me die now.” The air seemed thick and staticky, like smoke, but cold and noisy. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he would die. He’d be fine with that.
“Frag that.” The unaccustomed vulgarity startled Barricade. “Stop being a weak little sparkling.”
“Frag you. Took the only thing worth anything from me.”
Thundercracker hesitated. And Barricade felt something almost like apology. Across a bond. What? “I had to make it look good,” he said, softly. “Surveillance.”
“Surveillance,” Barricade snapped. “Not now, huh?”
A movement under him. “Gas cloud. Foxes any sort of bug or long range Soundwave might have.”
Barricade looked up—yes. They were in the middle of a gas cloud, and the warmth and static wasn’t from him but from the charged elements vibrating around them. “Don’t understand.” He wished he didn’t sound pathetic. Thundercracker was probably getting off on it. But…then…why did he feel that worm of something like regret? The bond was dead. This was his imagination.
“You’re fine. The bond is fine. I just had to shock you offline.”
“Had to.” Nothing made any sense. Barricade stared at his talons. Tired of not understanding. Tired of feeling helpless, yes. And tired of feeling dumb.
Thundercracker’s voice was, for him, gentle. “Soundwave thinks I took you out to break the bond. It was the only way I could get us away. He also thinks that I blew the attempt and that you’re dead, and that I’ve come in here to dispose of the body and make up one slag of a story to explain it to Starscream.”
“He believes that?” It sounded…stupid.
Thundercracker laughed. “When you hate someone, you’ll believe any stupid thing they say, just because it makes them more detestable.”
Barricade twitched—a little too close to home. “Yeah.”
“And the more splintered Soundwave and Megatron think we are, the more freedom of movement we actually have.”
It made sense, a dark, ugly, splintery kind of sense. It was just…no battle tactic Barricade was ever used to. He was used to weighing ordnance, range, resources. Not this strange and subtle stuff. Things that the Trine had dealt with for…lifetimes.
A long moment of frozen silence. “You…you would really have done it. For him.”
Barricade nodded, pure misery in the bond. He croaked out something affirmative.
“SO,” Thundercracker said, collecting himself. “We better pull this off, because I want to see Soundwave squirm when we return. With Skywarp.”
Barricade balled his fists. “With Skywarp.”
[***]
Starscream had his own plans to set in motion. Soundwave was a problem, of course, but Soundwave was merely a limb of the enemy—a limb trying to prove its usefulness. Without Megatron’s regard to motivate him, Soundwave was no threat at all.
The easy, the obvious, solution would be to cut the head off the snake, but despite everything, Starscream could not quite bring himself to kill Megatron. Some ancient regard, some remembered respect. And perhaps, a little bit of remembered fear.
So of course, the easy way was out.
But then again, he didn’t need to defeat Megatron, nor Soundwave. He merely needed to drive some wedge between them. And that wedge’s name was…Thrust.
“Thrust,” Starscream said, blocking the doorway. There were times—many times—where a Seeker’s larger, heavier frame came in handy. And by the sudden nervous flicker in the red jet’s optics, now was one of those times.
“Starscream,” Thrust said, uncertainly, optics darting around Starscream, as if searching for allies. There were none. There would be none. Enough of the mechs on the Nemesis remembered Starscream’s cold command, recognized the tight purpose in his strides.
“You do not appear pleased to see me,” Starscream said, wryly.
“Well, I…,” Thrust shifted, moving so that the console was between them, as if blocking a physical attack. Oh, Thrust, Starscream thought. So limited in your understanding of ways I can truly hurt you.
Thrust found something like courage: its near cousin, bald defiance. “What do you want, anyway?”
“Want?” Starscream’s mouth calipers pinched in amusement into poisonous hooks. “I came to consult you, as you are apparently an expert in Seeker law.”
Thrust twitched. Oh yes, Starscream thought. I have not forgotten. We have not forgotten. “Look. About that.”
Starscream tilted his head, optics wide and innocent. “Yes? About that?”
“I…it’s Megatron. He’s our leader.”
A technicality, only, Starscream thought. But he allowed himself an understanding nod. “Yes. I understand. Megatron can be…compelling.”
Thrust relaxed, his armor shifting, no longer trying to compress him to the smallest possible target. “Exactly. You see, I had no choice!” He spread his hands—greedy hands, Starscream thought, that had probably taken a reward without a flicker of conscience until now—to show his helplessness. Oh, you are helpless, Starscream thought. And caught in a game bigger than he could manage.
“Of course. No choice at all.” Starscream stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him. “And you understand, of course,” he said, placing one long hand on the table between them, stepping closer, “that I have no choice, either, yes?”
[***]
Simple enough. Well, this part of the plan, really. And more than a little enjoyable. Thrust had taken the beating, eventually, with reasonable fortitude. He was a warrior, after all. And one with an eye to the future.
He had even agreed to snivel, at his loudest volume, that the whole thing had been ordered by Soundwave. It didn’t matter if Megatron believed him entirely. Just enough to doubt, just enough to hint at what Starscream had already divined—Megatron had moved without Soundwave’s ‘guidance’ in the matter of the sniper, and Soundwave would be furious.
The next step, of course, was this:
//Onslaught? I should like to make an arrangement with you.//
//Ironic. About to—under orders—contact you.//
//Ah, convenient.// Starscream did not have to ask who had given those orders. Soundwave moved fast. //So our meeting will not seem…unnatural?//
//It’s always unnatural with you.//Onslaught’s voice had a light humor.
//That would make a fine excuse.// And a necessary one: Starscream had a certain tension of his own he needed working off. What Skywarp could exorcise with violence, he could not—he had to resort to other measures.
//Washracks,// Onslaught said. //More interference.//
Starscream couldn’t help but smile. //You do think of everything.//
An amused grunt as Onslaught cut the line.
[***]
Skywarp glowered, in front of Ratchet this time. “I’m sure,” he said, sourly, “it makes complete sense in your Autobot code to be doing this.”
“Too much to expect you’d appreciate this,” Ratchet said.
“Appreciate? Damn right. Since when is mutilation considered an Autobot value?”
“Mutilation,” Ratchet huffed. “We’re locking down your weapons systems. Because you seem a little shaky on the concept of ‘prisoner’.”
“Oh, so resistance in captivity is so strange to your kind?” Skywarp could list a number of Autobots who had been plenty troublesome as prisoners.
“Prisoners don’t use lethal force.” Ratchet inserted the load blocks in the back of Skywarp’s chain guns.
“Oh?” Skywarp spiraled his optics wide and innocent. “All these rules! I can’t keep up.” Ah, Stupid Skywarp. An act he had perfected aeons ago. “Besides, it’s not lethal if he didn’t die.”
Ratchet looked up, sharing an exasperated sigh with Brawn, who was doing his best to loom ominously close to the berth on which Skywarp was bound.
“Doesn’t know when to shut up, does he?” Brawn muttered. He laid an ominous hand near Skywarp’s face, his heavy knuckles promising, threatening violence.
“Nope,” Skywarp said, cheerfully.
“Don’t,” Ratchet said. “Don’t give him the satisfaction, Brawn. He wants to provoke you.” Ratchet’s blue optics lanced into Skywarp’s. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Skywarp deadpanned. “I love a good beatdown.” He rattled his bound wrists.
“You,” Ratchet said, “want to push us, to see how far we go before we snap.”
Marginally true. But more than that, Skywarp wanted the distraction, and Autobots being civil and solicitous did not fulfill that at all. Too much time, too much space to think, to worry.
“He’d better watch himself,” Brawn said, optics hard and insolent down Skywarp’s pinned frame. “Because unlike him, I am lethal.”
No, Skywarp told himself. No. Even as his vocalizer flung a growl back at the dark armored Autobot. Because he will—Skywarp could read his optics clear enough—and then, and then…Barricade, Thundercracker.
He hated responsibility.
“Well then,” he said, his voice rough and raw, elevating his blocked guns, “I’ll just have to behave, then, won’t I?”
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And oh so glad the bond breaking thing was a farce. Though still worried about Skywarp, since he's out of the loop and all.
Um so... do Onslaught and Starscream have sexy times in the washracks in addition to planning times? *blush*
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I agree with the comment that Starscream is all manner of sexy when he's being in charge of the situation. Mmph.
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Onslaught is secretly pretty awesome, though I'd imagine Starscream would advise me not to say that too loudly where he can overhear it so as to prevent critical levels of ego-explosion.
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Thank you for bringing in Onslaught as their secret heavy artillery. I'm looking forward to the washrack scene for more than one reason!