First Law of Thermodynamics

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG
IDW
Kup, Perceptor
mid AHM, 
eerian_sadow's request:  5 May Kup/Perceptor  They weren't just stories, and at least Perceptor could appreciate them for the historical data they contained."  Stay awesome, eerian!

“Kind of miss having to compete with you for airtime,” Kup said, boosting himself up on the exam crèche. 

“Things change,” Perceptor said, quietly, turning to align the tools on the small rostrum.  He felt the tension begin to melt, the routine of the exam exerting a soothing influence over him.  His hands still felt the heavy rifle, the way it jumped in recoil, but now, the familiar actions, familiar surroundings, brought him back to himself.

Only…he didn’t feel like himself. The comfort felt false, like a shell or a sensorblock.

Kup tilted back against the creche’s high back, studying Perceptor for a long moment. “Maybe surfaces, Perceptor. Never substance.”

Perceptor gave a noncommittal sound, taking up the scanner.  “Ready?”

Kup pressed on. “It’s like science.  Matter can’t be created or destroyed, only changed from form to form.”

Perceptor paused, hands hanging in midair.  “Form is not substance,” he corrected, quietly. Not in science. Not in life.

Kup gave an easy shrug, almost a wink. “Yeah, not really a science guy, myself.” 

Neither am I, anymore, Perceptor thought. Despite the microtools in his fingers, despite the aeons of work at Kimia.  He’d left that behind. 

Kup watched him for a moment, as though expecting something and looking just a tiny bit disappointed when it didn’t happen. He settled back into the crèche. “Yeah.  Ready.”  Not surrendering, merely resetting the pieces for another gambit.

Perceptor nodded, moving around to Kup’s side.  He found the access panel, attaching the first of the monitor leads with uncannily steady fingers.

“Hell of an entrance, by the way.”

Perceptor twitched, mastered himself. “Blaster didn’t think so.”  ‘Defiled’.  That’s what Blaster had said. That Perceptor had defiled himself.  He’d saved them all from the combiner, and that was the hero’s welcome he’d gotten.  Why had he expected anything more?

Kup huffed. “He’s the Voice. He ain’t always the Brains.”

Perceptor was on the verge of speech, before subsiding into silence, busying himself with the scanner’s readouts.  There was something morbidly right about this: Perceptor in his rebuilt new frame,  checking on Kup’s new frame. Only Kup had been rebuilt to be as much like his old self as possible, while Perceptor had not.  His old self was what had gotten him damaged, abandoned.  It had seemed right, at the time, to discard it.

“Hunh. Trying the silent act with me, are ya?” Kup leaned into the creche’s high back, observing Perceptor from under half-lidded optics. “I got more words than you got silence, Perceptor.”

“Not silent,” Perceptor said.  The readouts were within normal range, showing a regular sinewave of variance.

Kup gave a wry shake of his head. “Take your word for it, eh?” He reached for a cy-gar, clamping it between his dentae. “Lemme tell you a story.” His mouth quirked into a grin. “Since you’re a captive audience.” He wriggled in the crèche, settling himself down. “Before the war.  Nova’s Primeship, if I remember right.  Hard to believe, but ol’ Kup was young Kup back then.” He chuckled. “Looked about the same. Maybe smelled a little better. And the war?  Definitely better.”

“Don’t think there can be a ‘better’ war.” 

Kup tipped his chin in acknowledgement, with a smile of triumph.  “Depends how you define it, yeah. I meant, well, back when it started, it was a real struggle, let me tell you, to even consider firin’ on one’s own.”  He gave a nod, sinking in thought for a moment.  “You know, you hear the stories, but you know their side is tellin’ stories about your side just as bad.” A shrug. “So you learn to chuck half of it out.  But back then, it was hard, let me tell you.”

He spread his hands, then turned them palm up, as if to show they were empty. “Not that it gets any easier. Anyway. Before the war, it just seemed…cleaner.”

Perceptor couldn’t stop the strangled sound from his vocalizer. Cleaner. Yes. No dirty technology. None of Prowl’s twisted ethics. 

“Anyhow,” Kup said.  “So, no slag, there we were.  Saragossa-6. Locals there were some kind of breakaway cult of Mortilus.  Weird little cult.  Replaced their parts with parts of those they had lost. Sounds sweet, right? And a bit gruesome.”He shifted the cy-gar to the other side of his mouth. “Thing is, they asked for, ya know, volunteers.  Was considered some great honor or some slag to be chosen. Big ritual. Music, procession. I guess as close as most of us come to fame, right?  Then they tore the poor bastard apart. Tore themselves apart to match. Shoulda seen what they looked like.  All of them, mismatched, different sizes, everything. And, you know, after a while you gotta ask yourself, were they still them anymore?”

Perceptor stilled.  Because an orbital cycle ago, he would have had an answer for that: sententious, scientific, sure.  An answer involving brain modules, spark chambers, essential personalities. But now…he wasn’t so sure. Who was he, after all? Himself? Defiled? Someone else entirely? Had he died on that ship, and been reborn as someone new? 

And was Kup himself anymore, held together with Pretender technology, hallucinations kept at bay by a controlled addiction? 

“I think,” Perceptor said, finally, feeling the silence stretch as Kup waited for an answer, “that is where religion takes over from science.”

“Heh,” Kup said. “Funny thing that war could rely so much on faith.”

Perceptor thought of the program Prowl had had him insert in Kup’s new frame, the way Springer’s optics had lit up, ablaze with faith he showed nothing else.  “Funny,” he said, his mouth flat, devoid of mirth.

Comments

[acidgreenflames.livejournal.com]

As always, you write Perceptor so well! You capture his sadness and insecurities so well. I can't wait to see tomorrow's request!

[ladyofdragons.livejournal.com]

Oh Kup... I love how rugged he is yet he's still trying to take care of people. It's wonderful you wove the meaning of the story into present day relevance for them both.

And yeah... Blaster? I kind wanted to punch him in the face when he said that. =\

[eerian_sadow]

oh, this is wonderful. Kup's full of wisdom, even when he doesn't realize how close to home he's hitting for Perceptor. Perceptor, i think, needed that reminder that he's still himself in there and that Kup has faith in him still.

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

Damn you're so good at Perceptor. You manage to keep him quiet and reticent without being dull... I wish I could pull that off half as gracefully!

And Kup's story... very nice touch. Nicely done!

[silaphet.livejournal.com]

hallowed sacrosanct faith, a cop-out excuse for ignorance. greed feeds on what faith breeds

-sorry not intending to be divisive, just loving how introspective your writing makes me-