shadow_vector | Mabaya 27 Seeds of light

PG-13
IDW Mabaya AU
Perceptor, Drift/Deadlock, Turmoil

Perceptor squatted in the small impromptu cell, back to the door. For once he was glad of his broader shoulders, as he opened his storage compartment. Yes. The last bit he needed, the oscillator. All he needed now was to plant the device.

It was simple, almost crude, both the device and the plan. The crystal drives. Already probably still compromised from battle, their tuning soured, it would be a small matter to set the phased oscillator to blow the harmonics entirely, the devastated crystal obliterating everything. Death by sound.

It was almost fitting, Perceptor thought.

The only problem was, of course, how to get it there. He needed to get to the crystal drives. Somehow. Drift had promised he’d help, had nodded, tentatively, at the plan. It had been the only thing that had raised some depth beneath the coruscating red lenses. He had to have patience. Drift would remember.

If Drift didn’t betray him.

No. Vile thought. Abominable. Do you trust him, Perceptor?

With my life. I have even so by telling him. He could betray me, kill me at any time. I will have faith. I will believe in him.

It’s all I can do.

His hands closed over the oscillating detonator, fighting the helplessness, the want to do more. Not all the science in the world could help now. He merely needed patience. And faith. And hope.

Merely.

[***]

Deadlock tapped in the orders, shooting one quick glance at Turmoil before he sent them. He knew Turmoil would look them over—Turmoil had granted him some roles, but he did not expect much trust to go along with them.

Right on cue. “The crystal drives.”

“Someone needs to clear the area. He seems expendable.” He could feel Turmoil’s gaze, like a curtain of lead, on him. Deadlock turned his head, the flat sneer fixed on his face. “Unless you have someone else in mind.”

“Other Autobot prisoners,” Turmoil countered. It was a test.

Deadlock shrugged. “Or one of them.” His mouth curled. “I just don’t know any of their names.” He could feel tension singing through his shoulders, the weight of the Great Sword like memory given mass, pulling him down, grounding him. He gritted his dentae, radiating, with force, that he didn’t care.

“He came to rescue you,” Turmoil said. “Don’t you think that’s a little…ungrateful?”

“He came to rescue Drift,” Deadlock said. “Not who I am anymore.”

“No?”

Deadlock turned his head, optics locking with Turmoil’s, letting Deadlock’s familiar sneer paint itself over his face. “You killed him, remember?”

“And suddenly,” Turmoil said, leaning forward in his seat, visor flaring, “you’re not boring anymore.”

“We can’t have that,” Deadlock snarled. And it was Deadlock’s voice, and Deadlock’s mannerism, but underneath, Drift was clutching at the chance, hiding behind the heavy mask.

Another measuring look. “I was getting tired of him, anyway,” Turmoil said, handing back the datapad.

[***]

It seemed like an eternity, the dull cycle of shift and rest, an eternity drawn out by the scant rations they gave Perceptor, that dimmed his cortex, narrowing his focus in time so that sometimes, he was amazed at how long his shiftcycles were: he’d look up from a repair and find…only a scant few kliks had elapsed.

“Hey,” the guard said, abruptly, tapping the worktable with his gun. It wasn’t personal, wasn’t a threat, Perceptor had learned. Simply…how they had learned to communicate, these Decepticons. He had learned so much—too much to process all at once—of what it must have been like for Drift to serve here: casual violence at every turn, brutality and sarcasm, constant competition, undercutting, twisted motives.

And Perceptor realized he was hardly immune. How much had he changed, had this place changed him? Would he have thought so gleefully of revenge weeks ago? Would he have ever, even for a moment, contemplated abandoning Drift?

He tipped his head up, newly abashed, feeling a line of connection between himself and the guard. We are both what this place has made us. “Yes.”

The gun tipped its eye up. Perceptor felt no menace at all from it. Not that he trusted the guard, nor even that he was so sunk in apathy. It was…just how things were here, a result of the poison they all breathed. The poison that was Turmoil. “Another job for you.”

Perceptor nodded, rising slowly to his feet. He’d been increasingly careful, since he’d caught this plot, since he scraped enough desire to even want revenge, to appear as unassuming and unthreatening as possible. Helpless Perceptor. It was not a role he’d ever been proud of, but here, it was his protection. Protective camouflage, he thought, holding his empty hands wide. “Cleaning?”

“Kind of. Crystal drive.”

Perceptor was glad for the stiff mask his face had become, that hid so easily the fierce smile. Drift had come through. He nodded, letting the guard shepherd him to the corridor.

“Shielding nodes,” the guard said, his voice pitched low, as though almost afraid someone would overhear. “Buy you some time if you work fast.”

Perceptor stopped, turning to look at the mech as though seeing him for the first time. Mercy? No. He couldn’t call it that. But some almost base concern. He felt something like a pang: this mech, this feeble spark of light, would be destroyed when the ship blew.

How much light was worth fighting the darkness?

“I’ll remember that,” he said, quietly. “Thank you.”

Watching the mask slam down over the Decepticon’s face at the simple courtesy hurt, on almost a metaphysical level. Perceptor nodded, the detonator secure in his storage, as he moved obediently to follow.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

O_O

My eyes can't get any wider, I think. OH BOY HERE WE GO!

Very awesome lead-in, Perceptor finishing the device, and set up, Driftlock getting him in there, and now he's going in! I'm so excited! So scared! So... everything! :O

Perceptor realizing how he and the guard are both molded by the place they find themselves in, the little hints of concern from the guard, who will probably be blown up *meeps*

Ha! But Drift came through *fist pump*

omg.... I cannot stop thinking: Turmoil is knowing something, he is plotting, no no no

Really looking forward to it >

Mabaya 27 Seeds of light

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