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Transformers: Legacy

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Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:21 am

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Title: Dreams of Waking
Pairing(s): N/A
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A

Dreams are strange things. Sometimes, they make you think impossible things are real, and that real things are impossible. But sometimes, dreams are your mind's way of preparing you for something even worse.

The man stood tall, maybe a little over six feet. Despite his graying hair and wrinkled face, his body was still that of a soldier. His dress blues, pressed and crisp, seemed perfectly tailored to his body, with row after row of medals at his left breast; a veritable forest of achievements. His voice was soft, and solemn, but it carried through the crowded hall, and over the seated guests, who wore a range of colors, from dress blues and whites, to the black of mourning widows. "We are gathered here, today, to remember those we have lost, and to celebrate those who still stand with us." He paused, gathering himself, as he looked over the crowd, meeting the watching eyes of each widowed woman, each weeping child, as if they were his own. "But this is not merely a tale of survival. This is not merely the story of some who lived, and some who did not. This is the story of those who persevered, against impossible odds, in an impossible situation, to deliver their brothers in arms from the fire and flames; Soldiers who withstood the crucible of war, and kept lit that torch, that bright light, that is the human spirit, and warded off the darkness which threatened to consume them all. Corporal William Johns, Corporal Marco Jameson, and Lance Corporal Esteban Rodriguez, you are hereby presented with the Bronze Star Medal, for bravery under fire. Sergeant Alexandria Istre, you are hereby awarded the Silver Star Medal, for merit, and bravery under fire, when your squad was attacked, outside of Baghdad. It is our judgment that you four soldiers, acting, without orders or higher leadership, cut off from both reinforcement and friendly ground, maintained your post, under fire, and forestalled an offensive of the vanguard forces of the former Iraqi III Corps, allowing your fellow soldiers time and opportunity to rally to the defense of the city."

His words flowed over her like a cold fog, clouding the crowd before her. She inhaled, and the scent of cordite struck the back of her throat like a desert wind. Her mouth went dry, and her heart began to race. The feel of her boots slapping down on concrete, the vibrations coursing through the air and stone, which had preceded the movement of heavy armor. In the haze around her, bodies were partially visible, though she could not tell whose, or what uniforms they wore. All she knew, was that, straight ahead, was either victory, or death. Perhaps both. But she knew that, one way or another, she had to. Or else all was lost.

Hand slaps down on sandbag, grains of sand exploding out between her fingers, as a round struck the bag. Feet leaving the ground. Up, and over. The visceral feel of the knife in her hand; vague memories of her rifle being torn from her grasp by the impact of a landing shell. The glint of light on metal, oddly grey -


And she blinked away sudden sweat, looking into the gunmetal grey eyes of her colonel. He gave her a solemn, respectful nod, and saluted sharply, crisply. Automatically, she responded with a salute of her own. Brief concern flitted through his gaze, as he recognized the sharpness of breath, the sudden sweat. After lingering a moment longer, she gave him a very slight nod, before he moved onto the next man.

She looked down at her chest, the shining silver star polished mirror-bright, against her dress blues. She drew in a slow, deep breath, and lifted her gaze to the crowd. Their faces swam, before her, the lights suddenly unbearably bright.


She blinked away stars, staring fixedly up at the dazzling-bright lights of the surgical suite. She felt vague pressure on her midsection, on her left side. She tried to breathe, but it was a shallow, weak breath. The air stank of antiseptic, and was sharply cold against her tongue and throat. Mechanically pure, with no natural scents, save the sharp, coppery tang of blood in the air. Low voices spoke around her, clinical detachment hanging on every word; The voices were oddly muted, and metallic.

"Of course, Megatron; You know me. Yes, I brought them here. An outpost, you know." He chuckled, his voice carrying a strange resonance. Almost like a faint edge of static? How odd. One of the surgeons briefly entered her point of view, leaning over her. She felt some of the pressure lessen along her left side, and her vision swam. Another voice, sharper, colder, emanated from the surgeon before her. "This is treachery, Genesis. You stole them. Somehow, I doubt it was your goal to-" An interruption by the other voice, "Start over? Save what people I could? Of course. But don't you dare doubt me; I am Decepticon. What would that name be worth, if you had all perished on Cybertron? The war wasn't going well."

"No," the second voice interjected. "And it went even worse after you left. Cybertron is dead."

Silence, knife-edged, and cold as ice, filled the air. She felt an echo of it in her veins. Cybertron. That word was important to her. A name. A place. She remembered it, vaguely. It struck a chord of familiarity somewhere inside of her.

"Dead?" The voice was shaken, ragged, and the metallic quality seemed intensified.
"Dead. Roughly a thousand metacycles ago. We've been scouring space, and every world we find, for fragments of the AllSpark. We believe we have traced some of them here. To this world. And only to find you, here, with," He gestured at the proto-forms, "These."
His voice was sharp with alarm, "What happened, Megatron? How did our home die?"

"We lost, Genesis. We all lost." His voice echoed with undirected rage, and the sorrow of loss. "Cybertron is dead, but, it would seem, you are not. Come with us. These…" He gave the nearest Proto-form a derisive look, "Malformed children will be left behind. They are not fit to fight."

The other voice was sharp, protective, "I'm not leaving them to die, Megatron. They are growing stronger. Some of them are recovering more rapidly than others, but-"
"Good," Megatron interrupted. "Then pick the strongest, and we will go. Cull the weak."

One by one, Genesis inspected each of them, checking their vitals, inspecting their exoskeletal, primitive forms. One by one, he reluctantly deactivated those unfit, choosing eight of the strongest, the most fit - And Oracle, the weakest of them, her proto-form's slender struts and plates poorly developed, the metal imperfectly formed in other areas. Inside of her, her spark shone brightly. He reached out, and lightly closed the casing, hiding the spark's true glow, and took the nine proto-form berths toward Megatron. He inspected each of them in turn, seemingly satisfied - Until he came to Oracle. He derisively reached to pull her spark, his face a scowl. She became vaguely aware of eight other patients, lined up beside her. Each of their bodies were strange, bulky beneath the surgical sheet covering them, oddly squared and angled.

The one identified as Genesis stepped in front of her, deflecting Megatron's reaching hand, with his own. His voice was low, and sharp. "If you want them, you take all of them. I'll not let that one go."
"Going soft, are we, Genesis? Becoming too attached to your little sparklings?"
"No," he shook his head, slowly. "This one is a debt owed. Give her time. If she's still not fit by the time they awaken, you can kill her; But not until then."

Megatron gave a cold, metallic chuckle, and a derisive nod. "Of course, Genesis. A debt owed is binding, after all."
Genesis frowned, deeply, his body tense, as if coiled to spring. Finally, he gave a resigned nod, "It is."
"Good." The voice was smiling, now. "I'm glad we're clear on this. Load them onto the ship, Genesis. We'll speak more, later."

Her surgical bed began to move,, slowly, the rocking motion lulling her eyes closed. She felt the pressure leaving her body. Her stomach felt like it rose up inside of her, almost as if she were falling.

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, sharply. She was staring out the window of an airplane. Distantly, out the window, was the broad expanse of Lake Pontchartrain, with the glittering lights of New Orleans perched all along its' southern shore. Home. She smiled, faintly, and stretched, thinking how happy she was, to be coming home. She had been honorably discharged from the Marines barely two weeks prior. Finally, she was coming home. Everything had been sorted out - Plane tickets bought, a pickup arranged, first month's rent paid on her new apartment, sparse furniture moved in. She leaned back against her seat, as the felt the plane decelerating. The hiss and tremble of air coursing over the wings, the jarring impact of landing gear on the runway. The plane yanked up to a halt, as the brakes fully deployed, the engines, in reverse, slowly pulling the massive hulk of an aircraft from flight speeds. She sat forward, looking out the window, at the sluggish progress of the Mississippi. The murky brown waters crawled along, water seeming to move backward, compared to the progress of the airplane racing down the runway.

She gathered her bags, and stepped off, still wearing her dress blues, the shining bars of her various ribbons shining at her left breast. Silver star medal, bronze star medal, purple heart, and a few other awards she had received during her two tours of duty, overseas. In deference, many in the crowds parted for her passage, encouraging and respectful nods and smiles coming from a few, solemn nods from others, who also bore the military look. She couldn't stop smiling. All she could think of is that she was finally coming home. A smiling porter assisted her in placing her bags onto the cart, as she clumsily attempted to help him, with her left arm in a heavy cast and sling. She made polite conversation with the porter, as they approached the front of the terminal. Outside, her mother and father leaned up against their car, their smiles bright, though their eyes widened as they took in the cast. She walked toward them, her steps quick, and her parents stepped forward to meet her. She looked into her mother's smiling eyes, a bright, honey brown, so much like the eyes of her grandmother -

The eyes that stared out from the photograph, perched atop the mahogany casket. She felt tears flooding her vision, though she bit them back, hands clasped firmly behind her back. She reached out, and touched her fingertips, just lightly, across the lacquered surface of the casket. She wore her dress blues, once more, with her white dress gloves. She felt the weight of the medals she wore at her right breast; Nowhere near as heavy as the molten lead she felt inside of her heart. She took a slow, shaking breath, and bowed her head, just for a moment; Calming, purifying, steadying. She caught the faint scent of her grandmother's perfume, hanging in the air, just faintly touching at the back of her throat. She turned, and placed her gloved hands on the sides of the podium, gripping it, for support. "My grandmother and I were very close, in the time before I left for my tour of duty. She taught me many things about life… How to laugh at life, how to cry when I needed to, and how to keep on going when things were at their worst. She showed me beauty in life; And that, sometimes, even when life is most painful, it can be the most beautiful. She taught me this: It is not the end of the journey that makes life worth living. It's the journey itself. That's what makes us who we are."

Her own words echoed in her head, as she looked down at the small object in her palm. It shone like a caged star. The droning voice of the lawyer barely registered, as she gazed down at her portion of the inheritance. Her grandmother had been a woman of few possessions, but every single one of them was its' own store of memories. She was fascinated by the rainbow glow that seemed to shimmer from its' depths; A kind of power that made the hairs on her arms stand on end, beneath her formal clothes. She stroked a finger along its' jeweled surface, canting her head, seeing a million different colors from a million different angles.

Light twinkled from the odd necklace that her grandmother had left her, hanging from the rearview mirror, in front of her. She smiled, at the memory, and touched it.

She drove, aimlessly, through the countryside. News reports burbled in the background, just below the level of conscious hearing, about the coming hurricane. Katrina, they had named it. It seemed like most others, and people were cautioned to move to higher ground until the hurricane passed. Many residents chose not to, intending to weather out this storm as they had countless others. She had gathered up her few belongings, and simply started driving. She had money, time, and nowhere in particular to go. Her connections to this place were few, but ran deeply; But she felt it was time for her to move on.

She looked at the road signs, but couldn't seem to figure out where she was. That didn't bother her too much, though. Hunger had ceased to be an interest to her. She heard the preliminary reports of the impact of Katrina, which had made landfall two days before. Something inside of her was heavy, and cold. She simply kept her hands on the wheel, and drove. She had no idea where the road would take her, but she was unwilling to leave it. It seemed the only constant thing in her life. The road rose up the side of a mountain, winding through the higher passes, before it would come out near the desert. She'd had more than a lifetime of desert, in her time overseas, but she intended to cross it as quickly as possible, and find out what life was like on the other side of it.

However, as she came around a sharp corner, the road appeared blocked. The slammed on the brakes, her high-lights illuminating a sleek, metallic shape, painted in silvers and grays. It had the distinct, streamlined cut of a military vehicle. Puzzled, she stepped from her car, reaching instinctively for the weapon she knew was no longer there.

Eyes appeared, a bright, electric red, each of them easily the size of a chair. A sharp, metallic voice, oddly familiar, greeted her. "I am Genesis. You possess something I want." His gaze moved to the trinket hanging from her mirror, which began to glow with a sharp, rainbow brilliance, brighter than she had ever seen it, before. She pulled it from the mirror, and clutched it to her. "What are you!?" She cried, her fist wrapping tightly around the necklace; Light shone between her fingers as if she held a piece of a star within her hand.

"I am a friend, Alexandria of Earth. Come with me." A hand extended from the darkness, silver and black, easily the size of her car. "I knew your grandmother well. She spoke highly of you."

She swallowed her fear, and took an instinctive step forward; Defiant. She began moving toward his open hand, her face rigid with pride and courage. She set foot upon his metal palm, and he rose her up, drawing her close to his face, where he inspected her, carefully.
His words, however, were strange. "Wake up, Oracle. Wake up. It is time."
She looked back at him, puzzled, and staggered backward, as she felt a surge of new sensations pulsing through her body. Cold, still air. The metallic scent of air scrubbers. The low, background thrum of electronics, power coursing through the air. "I am awake!"
"Wake up, Oracle."
She surged forward, gasping for a breath that wouldn't come, and felt metal twist beneath her grip. She looked down, shocked, at a massive, metallic arm where her own arm should be. She clutched the twisted edge of her berth, her eyes wide. She looked down at her body, the exoskeletal struts and plates, and the rainbow brilliance surging from her chest. She looked up at Genesis, in shock, her body frozen, her mind fighting the impossible sights, the impossible sensations.

Behind him rose a massive shape, twin red eyes glowing beneath a shadowy crown. The second voice from her dream spoke, cold, harsh, metallic, "It seems it lives after all, Genesis. Good work; You said it was called Oracle? Unit Oracle, you are now a Decepticon; And that means you belong to me."
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:24 am

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Title: High Flying
Pairing(s): N/A
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A

The sky was a deep, tranquil blue, cloudless; Endless as the desert beneath it. Oracle and her nine brother-bots stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon, looking down into its’ depths. Behind them all sat a simple jet fighercraft. Each of them had, in their turn, scanned the pattern, committing it to their internal memory. Eight of them stood, still as statues, awaiting the command to drop. Oracle, however, perched nervously at the edge, shifting her stance, slightly, every few seconds, in wary anticipation of the drop. The sharp, shrill voice of Starscream cut the air, “First, off!" The first of her brother Seekers in line stepped forward, and seamlessly transitioned into the fighter jet, shooting off down the canyon like a bullet. The air shuddered in the wake of his passage.

“Second, off!" Starscream cried out, and the second Seeker dove forward, shifting swiftly, and hugging the ground, as he barreled down the canyon.

“Third," Starscream paused, as the jet’s engine glow vanished around a distant curve. “Off!" The third lunged forward, and threw himself forward with his shifting, engines howling to life, as he shot off, at afterburner, down the canyon’s expanse.

They continued on, down the line, until the sixth leapt forward, but paused, just a moment, before shifting. He wobbled in the air as he shot forward, and his engines gave an odd, whining shriek. He vanished into the distance, seeming to favor the left side, somewhat. Seventh and eight leapt off without a hitch.

Finally, it came to Oracle’s turn. She looked down at the ground, nearly a mile beneath her, and closed her eyes. She threw herself forward, into open air. She willed her body to change. Something about it, however, felt foreign to her. Her body fought the change. She remained in her robot form. Her eyes opened wide, in pack, her mind processing rapidly, the realization that she was going to fall to her demise. The rocks below were growing closer by the second.

Suddenly, she almost seemed to resign herself to her fate, to the fall, as she felt the wind coursing over the sensitive ‘skin’ of her metallic body. She summoned her inner willpower, and imagined herself flying. It was a strange feeling, her body rapidly changing, parts shifting around, twisting, moving into new positions. After a long moment, she felt the wind cease tearing at her body, and, instead, it seemed to flow around her, like swift-moving water. She dove, deeply, and then pulled herself up. Her eyes opened, and she stared at the canyon floor, hardly a hundred feet below. Her jets, when they activated, made the water beneath her shudder and ripple. Rocks shook loose from the canyon walls as she flew down the canyon, suddenly embracing her newfound speed and agility. She pulled herself sideways, toward the Cliffside, and shifted her body so she was standing on a wingtip, tugging up, just slightly, to avoid outcropping of rock. She did a swift barrel roll, and held herself in the same position, along the opposite wall. The rush! The exhilaration! Her engines shrieked in sympathetic ecstasy.

She yanked herself sharply around one corner, then another, pushing herself, for more, and more speed. A swift barrel roll wove a spiral through the air, the heat of her engines leaving a shimmering haze in her wake. She pulled sharply around another corner - And yanked up, sharply, barely avoiding the flaming ruin that was the sixth Seeker. He had gouged out the face of the cliff, and, heavily damaged, spun into the opposite wall, where his wreckage spewed flame and the sharp scent of burnt ozone, and smouldering circuits. Her sudden maneuver threw her off balance, and she saw herself irretrievably flying toward an abrupt cliff-face. She screamed, her engines screaming with her, and shifted up into her robot form. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her air brakes pulling open, barely slowing her velocity, before her sudden, jarring impact with the wall. Hands gouged long trails of stone from the cliff, shrieking maneuvering jets scorching trails across the ancient canyon walls, grasping for a hold, and tumbling to the canyon floor. She gasped, and retched - Though her body just bent in on itself, incapable of retching, lacking any sort of mouth. Her engines whined pitifully, dust and dirt clogging her intakes. She stumbled over, falling to hands and knees, and fought to right herself.

Her world spun. Deep inside, she was shaken. But alive. Alive! She was so shocked by her own survival, that she couldn’t even make herself move, or speak. Her circuits pulsed within her, like a rapid heartbeat, as she fought to master her panic and fear, pushing them back to some other part of her. Somewhere deeper inside. She locked it up, and dragged herself to her feet, her engines coughing as she tried to clear the dirt and gravel from them.

Finally, she staggered forward, gathered herself, and leapt into the air. When she shifted into her jet form, sand fell free from her in a cloud, and, as her engines kicked in, their furnace-heat burned the flying sand into fragments of shining glass, falling like ember snowflakes onto the valley floor. She kicked in her afterburners, shooting down the canyon, in pursuit of the other seven who remained. I will not be last, no matter what happens. She reached the end of the canyon, sooner than she expected, and clawed for altitude with a ferocious desperation. She tore past the eighth’s blazing engines, and crossed sharply in front of it. The eighth Seeker shook aside, her turbulence buffeting him side to side, as she clawed after the seventh. Afterburners blazing, she felt a fire burning deep inside of her. Heat, building up, faster than she could vent. She knew that getting altitude was her first priority - And so she rocketed upward, and hit her flight ceiling. Her circuits pulsed and thudded in her head, as she fought to keep concentration, and dragged herself higher. Marginally higher. She wanted to be better than all of them. She wanted to prove it. She cut ahead of the fifth Seeker. Barely kept her lead on him. In the distance, the fourth was just vaguely visible, blazing engine flares a ways away. She forced herself to move faster. Just a little faster. Just a little bit more. Her body trembled, and she couldn’t control it. The exertion was taxing heavily on her, but her spark flared to compensate. She closed her eyes, and the world went dark, reveling in the sensation of the wind screaming across her metallic skin. She felt herself grow weary, and fought back the exhaustion which clawed at her. This new form was taxing.

Finally, she cut ahead of the fourth. Then the third. Second fell behind. The first was coming in for his landing, alongside Starscream, Megatron, and a pensive, distant Genesis. She clawed for speed, her engines burning brightly, shrieking with the effort of pushing herself forward.

Finally, she came in alongside the first Seeker, and attempted to brake. Due to sheer speed and momentum, her damaged brakes faltered, and she spun, out of control. She switched into her robot form, and clutched her arms across her chest, slamming into the dirt just ahead of the first, and barreling between Starscream and Megatron, small pieces of metal skittering from her frame as she struck, and rolled, the heavy crunch and crackle of her new form highlighting the force of every impact. When, finally, she came to a stop, a hundred yards beyond, her body seemed little more than semi-coherent wreckage.

Inwardly, she shook with agony, clawing at the dirt. The cold night air scratched across overloaded sensors in her skin. Her wings felt like they had been broken a thousand times, and haphazardly pieced together. But she was alive. She was the only one who heard her own laughter, as Genesis moved to lift her up, and return her broken body to the base.

His words were so quiet, she swore she’d almost dreamed them. “High flying, Alex. Damn good show."
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:25 am

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Chapter 3 - R&R

The low thrum of circuits encompassed her, like a synthetic womb. Her hypersensitive, exposed circuits twitched and fizzled at every touch. Her optical sensors were shut down, leaving her to contemplate her situation in peace. The day before had been her downfall; Her stupid pride had led her to take the lead, and led to the massive crash that had stripped away most of her outer frame, and several of the more serious support struts. When she reactivated her optics for her hourly sweep of the room, she saw Genesis kneeling down beside her, inspecting her. He was so engrossed in viewing her finally-cleaned injuries, that he didn't seem to notice her eyes had opened, or hadn't, yet, acknowledged it. When he finally spoke, he confirmed the latter. "You put on a hell of a show out there, kid." His voice was low, and the metallic edge hardly registered; She was getting used to that. She didn't bother to venture a reply, uncertain what she should say. Thank you? She inwardly shook it off, optics turning off, once more. She didn't want to see the ruin she had made of her frame.

"You did a damn good job on yourself, too, you know." His voice was chastising, but only slightly. "What exactly was going through your head?"

She frowned. "I'd rather not say."

He chuckled, quietly. "Was it pride? Something so foolhardy must've been motivated by pride."

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied, snappishly.

He just raised a brow at her, amused, and let the amusement carry into his voice, "Of course. So, what am I going to tell Megatron?"

She stiffened, at his mention of the name. "Tell him what?"

"Why you did it, of course. Why he should keep you."

"Because I won."

This time, he didn't even bother concealing his laugh, "Of course you won. You were the only one competing."

She had no ready answer to that, so she simply sat in silence.

"Alex," he began, quietly, "We need to talk."

"I know." Her voice was carefully flat. She'd quickly learned voice modulation, in this new form. She didn't feel that she could trust anyone. Maybe not even Genesis.

"Do you know why I did it?"

"No. Why don't you tell me?" Spitefully, she let a little of her sarcasm bleed into her tone.

He frowned, deeply. "I did it to save you."

She laughed, cold, and cruel, "What a wonderful job you did. You isaved/i me. Congratulations."

"I didn't want to watch you die-" He began, only to be interrupted, sharply.

"No. You picked the strongest, and culled the weak."

He paused, suddenly, his expression surprised and stricken. "It wasn't like that-"

"Wasn't it? What would the Decepticon name be worth if you'd all perished with Cybertron?"

"I came here to save what I could. Autobot, Decepticon, proto-form. Someone had to save us. I thought we would be the last of our kind. I thought we could start over." His voice was soft, placating, "When you were dying…" His voice trailed off.

The fragment of the AllSpark shone brightly in the silvered palm of his massive hand. Rainbow hues filled the air with a flickering radiance, with such intensity that the air itself seemed to warp and shiver around it. There seemed to be some calling in its' depths, drawing him inward, pulling him down. He wasn't sure quite the process. He just remembered taking her empty body in his hands, his vision clouded with a rainbow glow. Touching the suddenly flaring spark of a Proto-form. A feeling of light, purity, and warmth flooding the air around him. Dreamlike. Floating. Despite his best attempts, his memories seemed clouded, surreal. He watched the Proto-form's spark glow brighter, taking on the rainbow hue of the fragment. He reached out, and slowly touched the fragment to her shining core. He barely drew his fingers back, before the plates clamped shut around it, and her body thrummed with life. Her back arched, and she sat up from the berth, seeming to take in a deep, shuddering breath - And then fell limply back to the berth. Her body had been in a sort of stasis ever since, waiting, with the others, to be awakened.

"I did what I had to, Alex. You would be dead, if not for me."

"Maybe it'd be better that way."

Everything was silent, save the thin hissing of a small arc welder, as it slowly reattached shattered struts to her inactive form. Genesis stood, slowly, and took in her ruined body. Bent and warped metal, scoured clean of the sand and grit that had infested it, after her 'landing'. Massive, chrome-colored scars across her paint, where coarse sand had scoured it to the plating. Damaged sensors flickered, here and there, as hundreds of tiny robotic hands tested over every connection, constantly monitoring her 'vitals'. Beneath her plated core, her spark glowed dimly, a sullen, sickly grey-blue, showing none of that rainbow brilliance it had first possessed. Hard shadows crossed her body, as the welder lit up, once more, lighting the room in a sharp, harsh blue radiance.

He stepped back, and turned from her, moving slowly out of the room, his steps quiet, but still audible; He wanted to make sure she knew that he was leaving. Behind him, she was silent.

Once in the hallway, the first thing Genesis noticed was the sleek, spidery shape of Soundwave, leaning, arms crossed, against the wall. His circuits ran cold, perfectly still for an endless moment, and his internal processes cycled endlessly through thousands of possible paths, all arriving at the same conclusion. Soundwave had heard every single word of it.

Two steps, and he was within reach. His massive, silver and black hand came up, and slammed Soundwave back against the wall. Metal plates buckled behind him from the solid impact. Genesis leaned in close, his voice soft, but forceful, "Not a damned word of this to Megatron. Not. A. Word." His expression was cold, but fierce, and with an edge of protectiveness. "He can't know." His resolve slammed up against Soundwave's cold, featureless passivity. "He ican't/i know. Not yet." He wavered, in his determination, in his rage. Soundwave was soundless, motionless, simply allowing Genesis to speak, like waves washing against a wall, with no sign of weakening it. "I'll tell him," he finally said, seeming almost resigned. "I'll tell Megatron soon, I promise you. But let me do it on my terms."

Finally, Soundwave gave the slightest tilt of his head. An implied question.

Genesis bowed his head, and nodded.

Wordless, soundless, Soundwave slipped out of his grasp, and vanished down the hallway. The slight cant of his head had said it all. iWhat's it worth to you?/i His resignation was all the answer that was needed. iThat's two debts, now. One to Megatron, one to Soundwave. All because of Oracle./i Once again, the memories flashed through his mind. He heard the scratch of metal against metal, behind him. He turned to look back, and Soundwave was standing directly behind him. His connection plug withdrew into his extended fingertips, and he gave Genesis an inscrutable look, before turning, and walking away.

Troubled, Genesis continued on, to the Nemesis' command center. Megatron stood, facing out over Earth. The Earth's terminator lay halfway across the United States, casting the eastern half into shadow, the western half still clinging to the last few rays of daylight. Megatron was an eclipse, the sun blocked out by his massive form, casting Genesis, and much of the control room, into twilit shadow. His steps were slow, and heavy, weighted by his thoughts. "Megatron, Seeker Oracle is beginning her recovery. Roughly sixty three percent frame damage, while only a twenty eight percent systems damage. She is expected to make a full recovery in the course of the next two weeks. Twelve days minimum estimate, fifteen, maximum."

Megatron nodded, thoughtfully, though he gave no other response, letting the silence settle like dust in the air. When he finally spoke, his tone was almost absent-sounding, relaxed, even casually dismissive, though they still carried the tone of command. "It's not that simple, Genesis. She has proven herself to be a danger to herself, and to her Trine, should she be assigned to one. Her flying is reckless, and self-destructive. Give me a good cause, Genesis."

"She had to prove herself."

"To whom? To me? To you? To Starscream? Or, perhaps, to Unit Six? An unrecoverable wreck, might I add; The fleshlings have made quite a fuss about that." He chuckled, softly, amused, "As well as the crash site Seeker Oracle left behind. You are quite sure the site was cleaned thoroughly? It would not be good if the fleshlings found working material."

"Yes, Megatron," Genesis replied, bowing his head. "I was quite certain. I checked the site myself."

"Ah, so if they do find something," He chuckled, and finally turned, the harsh sunlight etching hard shadows across his face and torso, "I know who to hold accountable."

Genesis paused, and took a slow moment to process, and still his tertiary functions, effectively calming himself, sorting out his mind. "I think she deserves her wings, Megatron."

"Oh, do you, Genesis? And why should Seeker Oracle have another chance?" He emphasized the formal title.

"Because, Megatron, she won."

Finally, coldly, Megatron smiled, "She won. And for that, she'll gain her second chance. Is that all, Seeker Genesis?"

He nodded, slowly, measuredly.

"Are you quite certain?" His tone was harsh, and direct.

"Yes, sir," was the muted reply.

"Dismissed, Seeker Genesis."

As he strode from the Command Center, to return to his berth, he caught a glint of light off of a flat, featureless face. Despite the total lack of expression, he couldn't help but feel like Soundwave's gaze was a silent accusation.
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:27 am

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter 4
Watch Your Six.

Genesis frowned, staring out over the flight deck of the Nemesis. Megatron stood beside him, only half-visible in the twilit gloom. The only illumination came from the steady green and red lights on the control panels. A steady, dim green light shone from the radar panel directly between and before the pair, showing nine lights, in three small triangles, as they steadily moved toward the edge of radar range. Looking out the windows, they could see Starscream's disctinctive red-and-white coloration, as he reclined atop a cargo container. Beside him, arms crossed, stood the light blue Thundercracker, Skywarp's black and dark blue trim standing just beside him. Oracle lingered near the edge of her deck, as Knock Out's dexterous hands checked over her frame, running various diagnostics. "Megatron," Genesis began, immediately regretting it; being the first to speak was a sign of weakness, with Megatron. "Now that Seeker Oracle is fully repaired, she should be ready for any necessary exercises."
"Any?" Megatron chuckled, softly, coldly. "That's good, then."
Something in his tone sent a shiver through Genesis' circuits, "Sir?" He asked, questioningly.
"I have a demonstration planned, for today. Your Seeker will be the star attraction."
"A demonstration of what?" He fought to keep the alarm from his voice.
"Of the price of failure. I think we all could use a reminder, don't you, Genesis?"
Genesis nodded, thoughtfully.
"Dismissed, Genesis. You may wish to see off your Seeker."
"Yes, sir."


Oracle frowned at Knock Out, as he hummed, thoughtfully, to himself, checking over her circuits. The others had taken off nearly four minutes ago Three minutes, and forty-six seconds, to be precise and they were barely still on the edge of her sensors. She stared after them, her vision barely able to perceive the slight flares of their jets in the growing daylight, as dawn approached. She shifted, impatiently, on her feet, and glanced around, seeing Starscream approaching her. His stride was confident, arrogant, fluid. His red-and-white armor glowed, faintly, in the lightening day.
"Seeker Oracle," he began, in his usual, strident tone. "Are you ready to fly, today? Perhaps you will learn something about landing, as well."
She frowned, in response, "Any landing you walk away from."
He looked at her, curiously, confused. "What?"
She chuckled, and shook her head, "It's an old saying humans had."
"Fleshlings?" He laughed, loudly, "I suppose it was their idea of landing, then? But I don't recall you walking away. In fact, as I recall it, Genesis had to carry you out, did he not?"
"**** you," she answered, sharply.
He tilted his head, slightly, in confusion, "Another Fleshling term, I assume?"
"Human. Not Fleshling."
"Of course." He gave a thin, snake-like smile, and she couldn't help a shiver that crawled through her circuits. "Good luck in your demonstration, today; That is a fleshling term, as well, is it not?"
She stiffened, sharply, and fought back a retort. He smirked, wider, at her, and turned, to walk back toward the other two members of his Trine.

"Oh, don't think much of him," Knock Out murmured, "He's always strutting about like that, puffing out his chest like some kind of proto-form. I wouldn't be surprised if he beat on his chest, now and then; vulgar." He shook his head, and chuckled, to himself, "Well, your circuits appear to check out. Are you ready to fly, again, Oracle? Try not to crash, this time; You're a wonderful patient, but if we spend much more time together, after these past two weeks, people might start to talk." His tone was playfully admonishing. "Fly well, hmn? Here comes Genesis." He stepped backward, and snapped close his case of tools, walking away. He continued to hum a jaunty tune, as he walked back into the ship's expansive hangar.

Genesis walked up beside her, "Are you ready to fly?"
"Six minutes, twenty seven seconds." She frowned, and looked at him.
"Yes. They do have a bit of a lead on you, don't they? Ah, well; I'm sure you can catch up without any particular difficulty."
She placed her feet on the edge of the deck, glancing outward, and down, at the land far below her. Her head swam from the height, but she took a moment to calm her processes, reminding herself that vertigo, in this form, was a purely mental thing. She took a deep breath; also a purely mental thing, lacking lungs. "Yeah. I'll catch up."
"Ready to launch?"
At this, she stiffened. Inside, she froze. As she looked down, she thought of the terrifying first moments of dropping. The change that wouldn't come. The ground coming closer. She thought of the bright, consuming flames of Six's wreckage. The ground screaming up to meet her, as she attempted to land, barely managing to shift back, and roll with the impact. Her systems began to loop, freezing her in place. She suddenly felt Genesis' hand on her back, and drew some comfort from his reassuring touch. Then she felt his fingers grip her chassis forcefully. "You'll thank me later. Watch your six."

Before the words could register in her mind, she felt the hand shove her forward, over the edge. She toppled, for a moment frozen with fear, before forcing herself to rapidly shift into her jet form, and turn her dive into that much extra speed. She felt the wind rushing past her backswept wings, air screaming through her underside jet intakes. She did a swift barrel roll, reveling in her new form. Whereas the others had all taken on the forms of Terran jets, she had instead taken a Cybertronian form. Her engines thrummed with power, barely restrained, as she fought to steady herself, surges shooting through her circuits like the rapid pounding of the heart she used to have. Her armor plates shone ebon in the rising dawn, nearly solid black, save silver trim, that caught the growing sunlight like the edge of a well-honed blade. After the initial euphoria, Genesis' actions began to scratch at the back of her mind. He shoved me! Pushed me off of the ship. What if I hadn't been able to transform in time? He would've killed me! She frowned, her rage lending a little more force to her engines, making her movements a little more jerky. But something else tugged at the back of her mind. Watch my six? What's a 'six'? After a moment, the meaning registered.

She had just enough time to jink aside, before a hail of laserfire cut through the air where she had been, just a moment before. She swore under her breath, and hauled back, doing a swift loop. Directly behind her lay Starscream, his distinctive paintjob easily marking him out against the darker background. His nose traced her movements, firing another burst of energy directly over her cockpit. She dove, sharply, and twisted around, surprisingly quick, and dove past Starscream's flaring guns. He pulled the nose over, and went into a quick flip, coming after her, upside-down, before righting himself. Oracle heard a sharp, strident tone in her ears; something she only recognized from an old movie. A moment later, she jerked aside, and a slender, red-tipped missile streaked past her, curling around to continue the chase. Other words began to play back, in her mind, as she continued her desperate evasions. Genesis' measured tones, playing in her memory, every Seeker is part of a Trine, a group of three. They go everywhere, together. Support each other, back each other, keep an eye out for each other. Their tactics evolve specifically around the strengths and weaknesses of their Trine, playing to their strengths, and covering each other's weaknesses as best they can." Her eyes swept the air, searching for the other two. She couldn't find Thundercracker, as his sky blue paint hid him well against the dawn-lit sky. She did, however, notice a black streak staying low to the ground, a ways below her desperate fight against Starscream. She recalled his name. Skywarp. "Skywarp is a very skilled fighter, but very much a maverick. He tends to get cocky when he's getting ready to do something; Bold." Genesis chuckled, in her mind, as he mulled over the choice of that particular word. "Bold would fit, best, I believe. He would be a very tough combatant."

Beneath her, Skywarp abruptly dove into a low canyon, seemingly about to nose-dive into the canyon floor; and then vanished, before he could strike. Directly above and ahead of her, at that same angle, Skywarp reappeared, lasers blazing a white-hot trail through the air in front of her. She panicked, fueling a sudden transformation, back into her robot form, as she curled herself into a protective ball; and reached outward.

Skywarp felt a sudden tug throw him off-balance, his engines screaming in protest, as Oracle latched onto him. Her left hand had gripped the leading edge of his wing, fingers digging in, denting the metal, drawing a shrill scream of metallic pain. Her right fist slammed forward, fingers digging into the edge of his jet intake. She flexed her right hand, and a blade sprung forth from her wrist. She whipped her hand back, and down, leaving a massive, sparking gash down the underside of Skywarp's fuselage. He spun, trying to dislodge her, and she rammed the blade's tip into the base of his left wing, skewering it, and clinging forcefully to him. Unable to shake her, he instead transformed, forcing his body to shift around her grip, one arm still deployed into a wing, transfixed by her blade, while the rest of his managed to transform. His left fist came up, into her stomach, powering the blade forward, with it. She managed to twist aside, years of hand-to-hand training coming into play in an instant. She yanked the blade out of his right arm, and parried his strike, forcing his arm back against his own chest. She planted her body against his blade, pinning him there, and tore forcefully with her left hand. The metal screeched in protest, and ripped free, exposing sparking avionics beneath. Skywarp toppled backward, the grapple broken, and vanished. Far below, there was a massive dust cloud, as he slammed into the ground. Oracle released the torn fragment of wing, and rapidly shifted back into her jet form, pulling up, before she hit the ground, and shooting straight back upward, using the extra speed for extra altitude, as her eyes scanned her surroundings. Starscream lunged for her underside, lasers flaring, and she simply leaned backward, and let gravity take its' course.

She dove. Fast as lightning, she was out of the way of his attack, his guns unable to keep up with the rate of her descent. Her engines screamed, as she threw herself straight down, toward the winding canyons below. Starscream nosed over, following her descent, guns speckling her frame with scorching pinpoints of heat and agony. She drew upward, and began to fly evasively through the canyons. Galled by her insult to his Trine-mate, Starscream shot after her, winding his way through the close-set walls of the gorge, taking shots whenever he got so much as a glimpse of her engines.

Desperately, she wove her way through sharp turns, and sudden decelerations, keeping her speed as high as she dared. In her focus, however, she had forgotten one thing. A long, straight stretch of canyon betrayed her. Directly in front of her, the sky blue of Thundercracker stood sharply out against the brown canyon walls, sunlight streaming down onto them, casting soft shadows over the winding riverbed beneath. She felt a missile rock her, as it slammed into the canyon wall, showering her with bits of stone and dirt. Laserfire sent bits of scorched rock skittering out, speckling her with bits of debris. From ahead of her, she heard the strident tone that indicated someone had a lock on her. She watched as Thundercracker's wings flared, two missiles dropping free, and streaking toward her. Desperately, she yanked back, nosing upward, and then slamming on her breaks, throwing her engines into full reverse. The missiles shot upward, past her, as she began to transform. Before she had fully changed, the guns on her arms began firing, spraying at both Thundercracker and Starscream. They shot up, past her, spraying her chassis with gunfire, tearing small, smouldering holes in her wings.

As they flew away, Thundercracker trailed a thin stream of smoke. Starscream, however, seemed to have shrugged off the worst of it. The pair turned, took to the sky, and began full thrust toward the Nemesis. The smoking crater where Skywarp had struck was empty, as well. Her jets sustained her, carrying her to the edge of the gorge, where she set down. Inside, she was shaking, memories of the explosions flashing through her mind. Gunfire. The stinging pain of chipped stone skittering away from bullet holes, spraying her with white-hot needles of agony. The sensation of a knife biting into flesh, coupled with the sounds of metal tearing beneath her blades.

She heard the crunching of dirt and rock beneath heavy, metallic feet. When she raised her eyes, Genesis stood there, watching her, carrying a massive, strange weapon in his hands. She couldn't tell quite what it was, but it had the distinct, sleek lethality of a gun. She froze, expecting him, at any moment, to turn, and use it on her. Instead, he threw it to her, and she caught it, without a conscious thought. "Your new weapon. No Trine wants you. You'll be working with another, at long-range. Keeping out of the main of the fight, and sticking to the edges, where you won't get in the way, much. Your new partner will be with you, shortly." He glanced upward, his expression betraying disgust, as the sun caught across his features. The circling form of a jet black, over-large UAV came lower, and lower, casually coming down, to land, nearby. Genesis leapt into the air, and transformed, flying steadily back, toward the Nemesis.

When she turned away from his flying form, she looked into the blank, featureless face of Soundwave. He made no move toward her, no gesture, and said nothing, but she immediately knew why he was here.

He was her new teammate.

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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:31 am

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter Five





Oracle’s steps were forceful, every step ringing against the metal decking like a gunshot. Her shoulders were set, stubbornly, her eyes a steely blue. Inside of her, she felt her spark radiating, like an electrical current across her skin. Various places on her body, primarily her wings, and her upper back, still stung from the multiple holes still smouldering in her. Her olfactory sensors picked up the stench of ozone and burnt electronics. A handful of other bots she had passed along the way simply stepped aside for her, not willing to get in her way, whether warned off by knowledge of her performance, or the anger she seemed to be radiating, like waves of heat from a stone. When she finally entered the Medbay, Knock Out was standing over Skywarp’s inactive form, humming a different tune, to himself, as he looked over a diagnostic display, which held all the information on Skywarp’s core systems. She could see most of his diagram was shades of red and yellow, especially along the left side. Thundercracker leaned against a nearby wall, his arms crossed over his chest, gingerly resting his side against the metal wall. His back had a quick-fix patch placed over what looked like a long, slender gouge. Barely a step behind her was the near-silent footsteps of her new companion. Soundwave dogged her everywhere, flying practically right on her wingtip, keeping pace with her, the whole flight back, regardless of how she tried to evade him. She had tried yelling at him, a few times, but there seemed to be no effect at all. He didn’t speed, or slow, or respond in any way.



Harsh blue light came from the wreckage of Skywarp’s body, as welders worked to knit his broken plates back together. He didn’t even twitch, lying there, inactive, as the machines did their work. She felt a brief, sharp pang of sympathy, which she quickly snuffed. That had been her, not long ago. Thundercracker stared at her, coldly, but respectfully. He inclined his head, marginally. That having passed, Knock Out finally glanced up, to acknowledge her, “Seems like an eventful morning. A failed landing," He gestured to Skywarp, “A near miss with some falling rock," he nodded to Thundercracker, “And now you." He raised an articulated brow, “We really must stop meeting like this," he admonished her, his playful tone weighted, a little, with concern. He glanced at the holes in her wings, and gestured for her to do a brief turn around. He frowned, and shook his head. “Ah. Flew a little too close to a dying target drone, did we? Well, that’s what that function is there for, I suppose; teaches you to keep your distance, doesn’t it?" He chuckled, softly, and raised a hand, to forestall her explanations. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you both in a moment. Tending to the worst, first, of course. He landed almost as badly as you did, Oracle." His smiling face betrayed his amusement, though his eyes spoke of something deeper; pride. She leaned against the wall, far from Thundercracker as she could, though, in the confines of the room, that wasn’t very far. He looked at her, thoughtfully, “You flew well. Took him completely off-guard." He chuckled, though his tone showed more reserve than true amusement. “None of us were expecting that, I think." He glanced past her, briefly favoring the silent, still, Soundwave, with a glance.



“You play rough," He added, after a moment, his gaze returning to Skywarp. <i>Was that concern in his eyes?<i> He glanced up to Knock Out, his expression inscrutable, as Knock Out set aside the diagnostic, and walked over, to begin checking over Oracle’s injuries. “Nothing too serious," he began, poking and prodding at some of the holes, applying quick-fix patches over others. “You should recover fully in a couple of days. Rest, and keep applying the patches to the holes, and they should close up in no time at all. Only gentle flying, at most; What am I saying? Do you Seekers even understand rest, or gentle flying?" He shook his head, sighing, theatrically, as he favored both Oracle and Thundercracker with a playful frown. “For me, it’d be a nice drive through the countryside, on well-paved roads, or perhaps a long freeway. That would be nice, I thinl Don’t you? No, of course not; what am I saying?" He rolled his eyes, and turned his back, walking back toward Skywarp’s inactive form. “I’m sure you kids would rather go right back out there, and end up in more…" He paused, and half-glanced back, between the two, pointedly ignoring Soundwave, “Accidents." He smiled, brightly, as he turned back to face them. “Thundercracker, check in, same time, tomorrow, so I can take another look at that. Oracle, same to you. We’ll see how the wounds are healing, set anything right, if it needs it, and you two will be back in the air before long. Fair?" He raised a brow, looked between the two, and nodded, to himself. He gave an offhanded wave, over his shoulder, and returned to studying the diagnostics.



As they walked out, Thundercracker brushed past her. He gave her a brief, inscrutable look, before he moved off toward his own berth. Oracle, instead, sought the deck, where she simply looked out over the land, far below, from the edge of the Nemesis’ deck. She lost herself in thought, staring into the distance, eventually even managing to ignore the fact that Soundwave stood only a few feet behind her. Part of her wanted him to push her over, just to get things out of the way, but his total passivity, thus far, had only managed to arouse her anger and suspicion. She was sure that he was just waiting to stab her in the back, and so, at first, she had become quite wary. However, as time went on, the waiting began to get to her, straining her taut nerves. She just wanted him to do it, to strike. He could kill her, right now. A knife to the wings, a slight push, and she’d fall, a long, long way. That almost sounded preferable to this waiting, just waiting, patiently, for him to make his move. The move never came.



As the sun fell below the horizon, she stood up, and walked back to her berth. As she plugged into her berth, a message crawled its’ way into her thoughts, downloaded from her berth. “You’ve got to teach me how you did that. Tomorrow morning, foredeck."




Soundwave sat, stiffly, at his computer, his fingers moving over the keys with a slow, even pace, precise intervals between the press of each key. His report slowly appeared, on-screen, as he entered one word after another, detailing the day’s events.



Seeker Oracle launched from Nemesis foredeck, with assistance from Seeker Genesis. Transformed after 1.28 seconds. Assumed Seeker form, pursuant to exercise instructions. Second in Command Starscream and Trine (Thundercracker and Skywarp) launched one minute, thirty six seconds behind. Starscream took intercept course on Seeker Oracle, Skywarp took low position, and Thundercracker climbed to high altitude, for overwatch. Witnessed event from 30,000 feet, all recorded. Recording at [Video enclosed.] Seeker Oracle caused severe damage to Seeker Skywarp in melee combat [Recording enclosed] resulting in minimum two week recovery for Seeker Skywarp. Second in Command Starscream, and Seeker Thundercracker, worked together, to assault Seeker Oracle. Seeker Oracle managed to evade worst of damage, transformed, to avoid damage. Second in Command Starscream, Seeker Thundercracker, and Seeker Skywarp returned to Nemesis, pursuant to instructions. Seeker Genesis approached Seeker Oracle [Recording enclosed] and presented Seeker Oracle with rifle, [Information enclosed] as new primary weapon. Return to ship



He paused, considering his record, and finally ended with uneventful.





It is the findings of this report, that Seeker Oracle should be passed, and allowed to enter next performance tier, and active field duty. He signed the report, and sent it off to Megatron. As he began to stand, he paused, a moment, and looked at the second report, beneath it.


MedBay scanners report that her Spark seems to match harmonics with fragments of the AllSpark. Field Medic Knock Out is aware, but seems unwilling to report information. He stared at the prompt, “Send Message?" He pondered this, for a moment, and selected ‘No’, saving it to his personal memory storage, then carefully deleting all traces of it from the console. He stood, fully, and deactivated the computer console, moving to return to his berth. As his optical sensors shut off, he began to scroll the MedBay’s scan reports across his visor. Knock Out believed himself to be terribly clever, hiding away this information in a place he thought only he could find. He was wrong.



Nothing was hidden from Soundwave.
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 6:46 pm

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter Six
A Friendly Match

Oracle stood on the foredeck, in contemplation of the coming dawn. She imaged, deep inside, how the sunlight had felt on her skin. It had only been a few months since she had awoken, in steel flesh. Some things were still unusual, to her, but she had almost begun to feel like being human was just a dream. A complex series of dreams, pieced together by a sleeping mind, to create a sense of identity, a soul, for this awakening robotic body; an attempt at becoming something more than metal and circuits. She flexed her arm, feeling pistons and circuits twitching and thrumming, gears grinding and shifting, attempting to recall how it felt to move muscles and flesh. She stared, intently, at the deck below her, and tried to remember how metal felt against her bare feet. Her sensors registered a brief stirring in the air around her; a breeze, caressing across the very sensitive edges of her wings. She fanned them out, letting the wind buffet her, slightly.

After a few minutes, quiet steps came beside her. She felt a faint brush against her wingtip, and glanced aside, to see Thundercracker lightly brushing his wingtip against her own; An informal greeting. She nodded to him, thoughtfully, and returned to staring out, toward the rising sun. Finally, when the light became bright enough, that her optics began to fight to adjust, she turned her back to it, and gave Thundercracker a small, sly smile. “Morning, Thundercracker. Needed your beauty sleep?"
He laughed, “Always." He made a show of looking her, up and down, “Something you could use more of, I’d think."
She laughed, softly, in return, “I’ve got other things to be doing. Like training." As she spoke, she stepped forward, her foot hooking between his legs, behind his ankle, and drawing backward, sharply. He began to topple, but stomped his other foot down, fighting for balance, as he lifted his other foot, with the momentum of her pull, and slammed his extended toe into her shin. She stepped backward, with the movement, dissipating the hit, and stepped forward, quickly, within the arc of his kick, and punched into his stomach. Already off-balance, he toppled backward, striking the deck with a massive impact. Before she could step forward, again, he was rolling with the momentum, pulling himself back up, to his feet. The movement, however, was unpolished, and unpracticed, and left him prone just a moment too long. Her foot caught him in the side of his chest, as he rose, flipping him onto his back. He landed, flat, with a sharp grunt of pain. Before he could move to rise, again, her blades were crossed, at his throat, kneeling between his splayed legs. She stood, and withdrew her blades, extending her hand. He grimaced, more in embarrassment than pain, and grunted his surrender. He took her hand, and she yanked him upward, to his feet.

“I guess you’re right, ah? All the beauty rest in the world wouldn’t fix that." He rubbed the dent she’d left in his torso, feeling the plating beneath shift and knit, the dent popping back out.

Things hadn’t been quite so smooth, at first. Despite his obvious respect for her capabilities, he still treated her badly, making barbed remarks at every opportunity. After all this time, the barbs had mostly gone away, though, on occasion, he reminded her that the barbs were there. Rapidly, however, her expertise had brought, if not respect, then at least respectful silence. Their early morning training had become established ritual for them, meeting, at dawn, to fight, out on the deck. On occasion, some of the other Seekers would watch, though none seemed interested in joining for themselves. Two constants, however, were Skywarp, and Soundwave. A couple weeks after Skywarp’s recovery, he began showing up on the deck, every morning. He would perch himself nearby, and simply watch, never saying a word. Soundwave never seemed to openly watch them, but he always seemed to be nearby, walking in or out of a door just when she happened to be looking that way, or glancing away from them, just as she turned her head. After nearly a month of this, she began to notice that Soundwave and Skywarp tended to stand near each other, though neither seemed to acknowledge the other. A couple of weeks later, Skywarp seemed to be speaking to Soundwave, though it wasn’t evident whether or not Soundwave was paying attention to him, or replying, in any way.

This morning, however, Skywarp lounged atop a small stack of cargo containers, leaning back, comfortably. He gestured, as he spoke, Soundwave standing beside him, staring silently at Thundercracker and Oracle. Try as she might, to ignore them, she just couldn’t seem to. Soundwave’s total immobility became a constant, at the edge of her vision, as she sparred with Thundercracker, until, suddenly, he moved; just a slight gesture, but enough to catch her eye. She felt her torso buckle beneath a powerful punch, which her distraction had caused her to miss. She felt a spiderweb of cracks shoot through her cockpit glass, causing her to reel backward, clutching herself, gasping for the breath her body no longer needed, the pain awakening a memory of a similar injury, in another body. Abruptly, she felt very, very human. Thundercracker stood over her, and sunk a foot, forcefully, into her side. She rolled, with the impact, clutching herself, tightly, as Thundercracker began yelling at her, “Get up, Oracle! What, you thought you didn’t need to pay attention? Thought you could just let your mind wander, while you fight me? Surprise," he growled out, as he kicked her, again, “I’m a little bit better than that, now." His tone was sneering, disdainful. His foot drew back, to kick, again, but Oracle suddenly wasn’t there. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t anywhere at all. His foot passed through open air, and he stomped forward, to maintain his balance. He abruptly felt a powerful impact, at the back of his head, which threw him gracelessly forward. He spun, but there was no one behind him. A powerful kick struck the back of his legs, throwing him onto his back. Abruptly, Oracle seemed to materialize, just above him, as her fist slammed down onto his face. Metal plates screamed and buckled, under the impact, his optics fighting to maintain their connection, sending back disjointed flickers and static.

Before her second punch could fall, she felt a massive impact slam into her side. She toppled over, clutching for the deck, as she abruptly entered freefall, tumbling toward the ground. She felt whatever had hit her, dislodge, a moment before another powerful impact from right in front of her. She had just a heartbeat to recognize Skywarp, before he teleported, once more, and struck her from below, sending her body spinning. She couldn’t concentrate enough to pull herself into her flight form, and every time she tried, he hit her, again, from a different angle. His strikes came, one after another, from unpredictable angles. She realized, very abruptly, that he had been paying closer attention to her lessons than she’d thought. Lighter strikes were baiting her arms into defensive positions, which left other spots exposed. She felt a thundering punch to her canopy, which shattered beneath the heavy strike. She curled her arms protectively over it, feeling another punch strike her arms, a second to her side, a third to her head. She fought the urge to move her arms, to protect her body, instead sheltering the scant cover her spark yet held. Deep inside of her, she felt a powerful thrumming sensation, as if her circuits were surged with power. Time seemed to slow. She twisted her body away from his next strike, invisibility activating. She threw herself backward, preparing to transform, when she felt one of his strikes carry through where she had been, a moment before, and slam straight into the metal plating over her spark.

With a sensation like a knife, wrenching inside of her chest, she felt the metal split. A brilliant rainbow light surged outward, blinding Skywarp, and he twisted to cover his face. In an instant, her body surged upward, blades emerging on her forearms. She pinned one of his arms to his torso, transfixed, with the massive blade on her left arm. Her right blade began to scourge his back, slicing back and forth across him, sending sparks skittering out, into the air. He twisted off the blade, and teleported a short distance away. In an instant, riding a rush of her own jets, her right arm had transformed into her massive rifle, and she felt the tip make contact with Skywarp’s chest, slamming through the glass canopy covering his spark.

Everything suddenly went dark, her optics sparked out by a sudden surge of light. Her body spun, systems in sudden lockdown, as her circuits reported a sudden barrage of attacks, which bent the barrel of her rifle, and buckled the plates on her right arm, and chest. Her optics swiftly rebooted, static flooding the image, before resolving itself into the almost perfectly stationary form of Soundwave, wings cocked back, high above her. She barely had time to focus, and shift into her flight form, yanking up, just short of the ground, and barreling along, for a ways, before she was able to safely shift back into robot form, and assess her wounds. When she returned to the deck, Genesis was walking away, as Knock Out inspected Skywarp’s shattered canopy, frowning and murmuring. Thundercracker perched, nearby, atop a cargo container, watching her arrival. He seemed none the worse for wear, icily detached from the situation. Soundwave stood, nearby, but apart from everyone else, as casually immobile as a statue. Genesis paused, mid-step, and glanced back at Oracle. For a moment, he seemed about to speak, but then, he paused, his features hardening, “Better not be too damaged, Seeker Oracle. You go on your first mission in eight hours." He looked her, up and down, and sneered, “Try not to kill any of our people, hmn? At least have the good grace to get yourself killed, instead." He turned his back on her, very abruptly, and walked back, inside. Oracle mantled her wings, preparing to just transform, and fly – Fly away, somewhere; Get away from these liars and traitors that just kept waiting to stab her in the back.

As she turned, she realized, abruptly, that a massive form was silhouetted against the morning sun. She stiffened, as her optics identified the form. Megatron stood, still and silent, watching her. After a moment, her wings settled, and she calmly walked toward the doorway into the ship.

Far above, Megatron calmly shifted his gun back into his arm, watching Oracle move back into the ship, the doors sealing behind her.

When Oracle finally plugged into her berth, the mission briefing downloaded straight into her core. “Trine 3, Trine 4, Seeker Oracle, Communications Officer Soundwave, Vehicons 4-12, move to grid 26C and engage (confirmed) autobot elements. Target is one (confirmed) shard of AllSpark. Secure shard, and return to Nemesis for debriefing."

Her hand instinctively moved to her shattered canopy, feeling the sympathetic thrum of energy from her core, beneath. So, they want the shards…
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Tue Jan 10, 2012 7:05 pm

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter Seven
First Contact

Oracle swept her optics down, over the land beneath them. Mostly obscured by clouds, the eight vehicons far below were more visible by their IFF tags than their actual bodies. They moved, quickly, and quietly, through low canyons, approaching their target point. Her optics then moved outward, matching up the actual, visible ground, against the satellite maps she had loaded into her systems. A topographical overlay showed her all the elevations, nearby, her internal systems automatically recommending a number of points as possible ‘nests’ for her to shoot from. One by one, she searched through them, checking their lines of sight, angles, and protection, calculating what spot would give her the most range of fire, while also granting her the most cover.

The two Trines flew a ways ahead of her, and slightly lower, their systems passively scanning the area, looking for autobot presence. Soundwave flew, higher than them all, his systems carefully going over the area with a fine-toothed comb, searching for any signatures that might indicate the fragment of the AllSpark. Her tight-beam radio transmitted her chosen position to the other Trines, and to the Vehicon convoy below, so that they would avoid accidentally shooting her. So, she knew, if any of them shoot my way, I know it isn’t an accident. That thought drew a frown to her lips, as she dove, sharply, then angled herself for the split mountain peak. From that position, she would be completely covered from the north and northwest, with a great field of view from northeast, to true south. A collection of boulders suited her as a combination of cover, and as a sort of tripod for her rifle. She took up her position, Soundwave marking the point with a single blip, on his overwatch radar screen.

She began scouting the area ahead, using her optics to scan the surface, carefully, looking for any signs of movement. In the distance, she noticed a plume of dust. A quick check against her maps proved that it was not the Vehicon convoy. She marked the location with a small, pulsing beacon, as probable enemy location. Overlaying the topographical map, once more, she confirmed that they seemed to be traveling through another set of canyons, which mostly masked their signs of approach.

The two Trines changed their courses, slightly, using the angle of the canyons, to keep themselves out of direct line of sight, coming up, on either side of the convoy. A small chime indication that another beacon had been placed on the map: The Fragment.

Oracle, curious, swept her gaze over the location where the shard was hidden: a low opening in a series of hills and mountains, with lots of broken ground, and possible cover. Just looking at the location, she had a bad feeling; A very, very bad feeling. She began to say something, but, at the last moment, changed her mind. It had been made very clear to her, a couple weeks before, that the Decepticons had very little use for her ‘feelings’, as they often ran contrary to hard data. The Vehicons adjusted course, speeding up, moving to intercept the Fragment before the Autobots could. Slowly, the specific identifications of the Autobots began to make her grid map look like a chessboard, the pieces lining up, against one another, in preparation for some great game. She dialed in her scope, sweeping it over the gully, once more, twice, seeing nothing, but the feeling refused to fade. She saw the Vehicons rumble out of their low canyon, and bolt toward the opening, three fanning out to each side, and two diving straight in.

The first of the two barely had time to slam on its’ breaks, before a hail of gunfire tore into its’ front, splitting metal, a thundering explosion tearing it apart. The second sped forward, dashing for the fragment, as Oracle swept her scope over the area around the gully, looking for targets. A gun barrel flashed, and she zeroed in on it, sweeping her gun backward along its’ length, calculating – And firing a single shot that threw back an armored form, one of its’ hands gone, from the wrist down, and out of her sight. She traversed, firing a second shot at a half-hidden form, which spun from the impact. The second Vehicon leapt through the gap, and transformed upward, reaching for the Fragment, only to be intercepted by a sudden, close-range shot to the chest. Another autobot had concealed himself behind the shard, its’ energy concealing his presence. Like a lightning bolt, he vaulted the falling Vehicon, and sprinted for the gully’s narrow exit. He sidestepped a shot from another Vehicon, dodging away as someone else’s shot blew it apart. Dancing through their lines of fire, he leapt outward, speeding toward the nearest canyon. He dropped down into it, laser fire spattering around him, and began to make good his escape.

Calmly, carefully, she made a few swift calculations, predicting his movement, and tracing the best aiming point. As he came around a sharp corner, the canyon would take him in an almost perfectly straight line toward her. A perfect shot.

Trine 3 swept down from above, firing bolt after bolt of energy down, biting at Blurr’s heels, small fragments of hot stone peppering his legs and back. He carefully avoided every attack, throwing himself backward, so their fire passed on, ahead of him. Before they could wheel around for another pass, he sprinted farther down the canyon, frowning at the straightway ahead of him, gritting his teeth at the necessity. His movements were lightning swift, closing the distance to the other end of the canyon. He had just enough time to recognize the slender flash of light, from the split peak, of a distant mountain, before his processors were violently shut down.

She watched the Autobot tumble forward, momentum carrying him down, throwing up a cloud of dust and smoke, as he struck, and rolled. Despite the concealing dust, she knew he wouldn’t be moving, ever again. She had seen the way his torso crumpled, the heavy slug biting through armor plating, and splitting open his spark casing. The flash of light, the small burst of heat, the ripples in the air from detonation. She marked off his location, on the map, as dead, and thought, for a long moment. She tucked her rifle back into her arm, and then leapt out, transforming, shooting down toward his unmoving form.

It was as perfect a shot as ever she had made. One shot, one kill. But this was her first chance to see her target, up-close. Someone she had shot, and killed. In her past, that half-remembered human life, she recalled the feel of her rifle bucking against her shoulder. Watching someone drop, their life’s blood pouring out through the hole her weapon had made. But she had never had the chance, afterward, to come closer to them, and witness the work she had done.

His body was fairly angular, lots of sleek, sharp planes, light blue, with silver and black trimming his frame. Her bullet had struck, just beneath the fringe of his torso armor, and penetrated, at a point where several angles met, and dipped inward. The slug had shredded metal, plowing through the weak point in his armor, and broken the spark casing. Inside, she saw the faint flickering of broken electronics, the last drops of power in his system wasting themselves away in tiny twitches of metal and circuits. The scent of burnt ozone and smoldering electronics filled the air, with a sharp, unpleasant smell, that faintly seemed to catch at the back of her throat; almost more a memory than a feeling. His hand was outstretched, fingers grasping at something, but open; it seemed he had dropped the fragment, when he was shot. She traced the line of his gaze, and began walking toward the fragment, slowly, curiously. Her eyes took in the rainbow brilliance, and she felt her own spark shiver in sympathy. An intense feeling swept through her, causing her to remember her human life; Tears, crying, choking sadness. The Spark within her wept at the loss of life, at the uncreation she had done. When she lifted the fragment, it was as if the ferocity of her own sadness doubled, tripled, drowning her in Blurr’s last moments; the sensation of the bullet striking, his spark ruptured, and feeling his life escape him. It was almost like his death, so close at hand, had left an imprint on the fragment he had clutched in his hand. She was so staggered by this surge of emotion, so nearly forgotten as to be foreign to her, that she didn’t even feel Soundwave’s silent presence. He reached around her, and plucked the fragment from her open palm, the next instant kneeling over Blurr’s motionless body. He pumped energy into the failing form, his fingers feeling around behind the former autobot’s head. He held perfectly still, for a long, few moments, then withdrew, allowing the body to spark itself out, once more. A long, slender cable withdrew into his fingertips, as he turned to face Oracle. He glanced at Blurr, then at her right arm, and gave a slight, slow nod.

Almost at the back of her mind, she heard the continuing sounds of conflict. Guns firing, lasers firing back, small explosions. Soundwave lifted into the sky, the shard in his hands glowing a brilliant rainbow of color. Dismayed, the Autobots began a swift retreat, a few well-played shots dissuading Decepticon pursuit.

The flight back was long, and cold, the brilliant surge of emotions her Spark had filled her with, left her feeling empty, hollow, as her wings steadily carried her back. Both Trines had emerged intact, but only two of the Vehicons could make it back under their own power. They both had extended towing cables, and dragged a third, badly damaged, inactive Vehicon behind them. The Autobots, in a desperate move, had managed to retrieve the body of Blurr, before they made good their escape, and careful defensive fire had limited the injuries they took in their escape. Four autobots had been severely injured, with a handful of others untouched, the rest sustaining minor to moderate damage. Blurr was their only true casualty, his broken body sheltered like a fallen martyr, in the heart of their retreating forces. Thinking of his shattered form brought back echoes of her Spark’s all-consuming sorrow, and her circuits trembled in sympathy.
When they finally returned, Megatron and Starscream bore silent witness to their arrival. Her only acknowledgement was a nod, from Genesis, as she landed, and a gesture for her to return to her quarters. Coldly, she stepped past him, not favoring him with more than a moment’s glance.

When she plugged into her berth, at last, a message downloaded itself to her.

“Alex,

There’s a reason for the way I’ve been treating you, but I can’t talk about it. Soundwave’s keeping track of everything you do. Be careful not to let him behind you. There’s some way that he can download the thoughts straight from your mind.

You did good work, today. I heard about what happened. I think your actions just bought you a stay of execution; Without you, we’d have lost him. Megatron refuses to believe as much, at least out loud, but I think he agrees with me.

Semper Fi,
Genesis."

His use of her name, and the phrase ‘Semper Fi’ indicated that he truly was Genesis, as the others didn’t seem to have any real knowledge of humankind, especially small details like those. She allowed herself a small smile, before shutting down her optics, and going into rest mode. She felt her body slowly knitting itself back together, circuits thrumming with energy, as she began to drift.

And then she began to dream.
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Sun Jan 13, 2013 11:37 pm

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter Eight
Awakening

Oracle awoke, and her skin shivered with sudden sensitivity. As her optics activated, she took in the ceiling over her berth with sudden focus and clarity. She caught herself panting, shaking - Though this body had no real analog, and the effect was purely psychological. She simply shut down the extraneous processes, though her thoughts were harder to manage. The cold air awoke memories from her past, moments so perfectly similar - awakening in a cold sweat, out of breath, the last wisps of fear and terror fleeing her, as her nightmares melted away - that, for a moment, she forgot she was a Transformer. It was almost like being human, again. And you're not going to be able to run, anymore. She shuddered, unconsciously, a tremor passing through her circuits, as her artificial body finally shivered to life. She sat up, a hand coming to her forehead, stroking the sensitive plate, there soothingly, trying to calm her racing pulse, tiny surges of energy which thrummed through her circuits in time with her memory of her own racing heart.

Her internal clock informed her that was 6AM, local time. She stood up, fully, and took in a slow breath, air moving through her intakes, and sighing out of her exhaust manifolds, the metallic cold a startling draught. As was habit, she began a system diagnostic, automatically inspecting herself for any lingering damage, physical or systemic. She stepped into the small, adjoining chamber, and pressurized air swept over and through her, buffeting her massive form, and scouring away dust, dirt, and other detritus which collected in the many cracks and crags of her armored form. Her systems diagnostic came back with a good report, showing her systems running at full effectiveness. She ran a more targeted diagnostic, searching for any abnormalities in her mental state. She frowned, as she felt the diagnostic sweeping pouring through her circuits, searching, but finding nothing; the report came back perfectly normal.

She personally cleaned her rifle, detaching it from her arm, just for that purpose. Once it was fully cleaned and reassembled, the reattached it, a brief diagnostic checking the weapon, and reporting optimal performance. Her footsteps were swift, quiet, sure, as she moved toward the Nemesis' broad deck. When she emerged into sunlight, there was no one there. She walked out, farther, onto the deck, looking for her training partner, but Thundercracker was nowhere to be seen. However, there was a low, soft, metallic chuckle, from behind her. She turned, and Skywarp stood there, grinning, leaning back, lightly, on his left foot, right foot forward, knee bent, slightly; a stable fighting stance. "Good morning, Seeker Oracle."
"Seeker Skywarp,"
"I once heard something rather curious from fleshlings, you know. Very curious."
She didn't reply. Just watched him, warily, steadily.
"They say, 'You never truly know someone until you fight them.' Interesting, isn't it? I've fought you, and yet I don't think I understand you any better than I did, before."
"Small blessings, I suppose." Her gaze never left his face.
"That's not a phrase I had heard. I actually picked up that last one from Genesis. He spent a lot of time amongst humans, before Megatron came to rescue him. Did you, perhaps, meet many humans?"
"No," she lied, blandly.
Either he didn't catch it, or he didn't care, "Ah, I see. Napping, like the other proto-forms, while dear Genesis did all the work? You know, he doesn't seem to show much favoritism for the others, but, for you-"
"He doesn't show me any favoritism, either." Her tone was acidic.
"Ahh, perhaps not anymore. Spurned him, did you? Turned your attentions elsewhere?"
She frowned, startled by his assumption. She wasn't certain how to reply, so she said nothing at all, instead averting her glance.
"I've got to commend you for that clever bit, though. Very clever. Kept yourself alive, didn't it? Things that would've gotten another Seeker scrapped. At first, I was surprised Megatron didn't scrap you right away, but, then I realized one consistency… Every time you glitched up Genesis was right there, whispering in Megatron's ear…"

Abruptly, he was directly in front of her. His head was canted aside, his expression a mixture of cocky arrogance, and thinly veiled disgust. "What, exactly, are you intending, with Seeker Thundercracker? Maybe hoping to get his help, or curry favor with Starscream? Or, perhaps," He mused, aloud, his tone sarcastic and cutting, "You hope that, with his assistance, you just might be able to knock me out of this Trine, and take my spot."
She stared at him, working to keep her expression blank, though inside, she was fighting to make sense of his words. Thundercracker? Replace Skywarp in the Trine? But his words also got her thinking about other things. So, mirroring his arrogance, she replied, haughtily, "And what will you do? Stop me?"
He laughed, as if truly delighted with her answer, "Don't count on his loyalty so easily, Seeker Oracle. There are far more forces at play, out here, than even you would think."

Skywarp stepped past her, toward the edge of the deck, chuckling, to himself. As he stepped aside, she saw, distantly, a silent, still black shape, silhouetted against the Nemesis' command bridge; a half-seen shadow in the twilit darkness beyond the angled, tinted glass. Soundwave. Even as she looked, movement in the corner of her eye caught her vision. Thundercracker approached, and he seemed visibly disturbed. He seemed not to have realized quite what she saw, as, by the time he reached her, he was back to his normal reserve. He nodded, just slightly, to her, in acknowledgement. "Ready for today's practice?"
She simply nodded in response.

Practice was as arduous as normal, both of them fighting to their fullest, with short breaks, for one or the other to put forth an idea for a tactic that used or emphasized some aspect of their forms. Both of them, however, seemed unusually distractable, their attention wandering elsewhere. Practice, that morning, ended earlier than usual. He returned immediately to the ship. She looked out, over the endless expanse of tundra beneath them, wondering where on Earth the Nemesis had moved to. Away from the desert, she knew, lest the Autobots become too curious as to where the Decepticon strike force had come from. She stepped to the edge, and threw herself aloft, transforming, hardly an instant after passing the edge of the deck. She coasted along, at fairly low speed, just enjoying the chill wind brushing over her wingtips, sending a shiver through her circuits. She relished the sensation, the way her sensors interpreted it, the information flowing from every little gust or buffet of the cold, northern winds. She looked to the distant horizon, taking in the faraway details, mountains rising, far, far ahead, with the very faint glimmer of ocean to the southwest, and north, only visible because of her enhanced optics. She abruptly contemplated running, and lifted herself upward, engines thrumming as she fed a little more power to them, rising, in a lazy circle. Here, in the cold, cold air, she felt subtly heavier, flying requiring just a touch more effort than usual. Just when she had made up her mind to thrust forward, and dive, using the sudden burst of speed, to quickly escape the edge of radar range, she caught a faint glimmer of sunlight. Directly ahead of her, in the far distance, three tiny forms flew, in formation, and she recognized their colors; Trine 3, out for maneuvers, unusually early.

When she swept her gaze around her, she abruptly realized that Trine 4 was almost directly south of her, Trine 3 to the north, and the massive bulk of the Nemesis to her east. She looked west, toward the ocean, and recognized, far off, Starscream and Skywarp flying together.

She frowned, inwardly, contenting herself to circle, rising higher, and higher, optics deactivating, guiding herself only by the feel of the air around her, bitingly chill, and thin, so thin that her engines labored to carry her. Suddenly, however, a shadow fell across her sensors, abruptly registering something only a bare few feet above her. Her eyes snapped open, and she panicked, diving away from the suddenly visible form of a grey aircraft above her, heavy pods weighing down its' wings. Despite the occlusion of light that made him visible, he didn't show up on any of her sensors, despite her proximity, and the fact that she knew he must be there. "Seeker Oracle," He hailed her, "This is Seeker Chaff. Lovely weather, isn't it, eh?"
She simply dipped her wings in acknowledgement, and began to turn toward the Nemesis. Midway through her turn, however, she pondered over her plan, seeking out the right moment - There, as Trine 4 turned east, and Starscream and Skywarp, far to her west, flew north. She abruptly throttled upward, blasting past Chaff's nose, causing him to tumble aside, panicked. She flipped over, backward, and dove, sharply, for the ground, afterburners surging to life. She felt the wind tear past her wings, shrieking, as the air grew thicker, and her altitude spun swiftly downward. Starscream and Skywarp immediately began corrective turns, with Trine 4 a few moments behind. Just before she could swing herself behind the cover of a small set of mountains, a sky blue form slipped in, just above her, pacing her. She looked up, and saw Thundercracker's empty canopy staring down at her. His voice was soft, almost whispered, "Let's head back, Oracle."

A moment later, over the open frequency, he spoke, "Hah! I told you that you couldn't give me the slip. You're gonna have to try a new trick, if you want to outfly me, again, Seeker Oracle. We'll add flight maneuvers to our morning practice," he chuckled, as Skywarp and Starscream slid into place beside her. "Like you suggested."

A brief, tight beam transmission struck her receptors, and Thundercracker's voice didn't carry beyond it. "Don't do that again, Oracle. Next time, I will shoot you down, and, next time, you won't have the courtesy of knowing I was there."

Thundercracker throttled forward, and sped, upward, into the sky, rapidly vanishing, sky blue, against light blue sky.
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Sun Jan 13, 2013 11:40 pm

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Transformers: Legacy, Chapter Nine
Into the Spider's Lair

Oracle sat, quietly, on her berth. She didn't much feel like practice, today, so she didn't go. No message, no warning, nothing. She just didn't leave. In fact, she barely moved. She laid back down, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't even find the motivation to move. Her limbs felt leaden. She let her eyes go unfocused, and willed herself to relax, cold, metallic air sighing through her vents.
For nearly an hour, she just lay there, letting her thoughts wander aimlessly through her mind. Finally, her berth gave a soft chime. A message arrived. Fighting her excitement, she plugged in, to receive a message from – Thundercracker. She frowned, and opened it.
Oracle-
Waited on deck. No show? Will be there, tomorrow.
-Thundercracker
She gave a slight grunt, and closed out the message, and another message arrived immediately afterward.
Oracle, they're keeping a pretty close eye on you. Be careful. Keep in line. If you poke your head up much more, they'll take you down. I'm not sure how much longer I can cover for you, but I'll keep trying. Stick to a routine, don't push your boundaries too much.
She nodded, and tucked her head to her chest, letting another sigh course through her. Keep my head down. She nodded, to herself. I can do that.
She stood up, shaking herself out, stretching, despite the fact that her body doesn't need it. It still felt good. She paced, a few times, up and down her room. Just as she was preparing to leave, another message arrived.
I know what I told you, but I have an idea – See about taking over Starscream's Trine. I have things worked out – It should be fairly easy for you to do. Take over as Trine Leader, and knock Starscream out. If you do this, you'll be beyond Soundwave's reach. They can't touch you, if you're heading up a Trine, especially if you take it from someone as powerful and influential as Starcream. Whatever you do, don't talk to me about these messages. There are eyes and ears everywhere.
Genesis
She blinked, puzzled, but a plan started forming in her mind.

She went, and sought out Thundercracker. "Sorry I wasn't around this morning. Practice anyway?" He looked at her, thoughtfully, but nodded. "Sure." He gestured toward the deck.
During practice, he was uncharacteristically quiet, going through the routines somewhat mechanically, which she simply put down to her absence, earlier. Finally, during hand to hand, she began speaking, quietly. "So. I'm going to challenge for your Trine." He seemed surprised, but not very. His response was quick, "Alright. And?" She continued both fighting and talking, turning her back toward the command tower, and Soundwave, hoping to hide the conversation from him. "I want you to make a good show, but let me win. It's going to be a tough fight, but I think I can do it." He grunted, in reply, "And why should I let you do that?" She laughed, short, sharp, "Because I'll take Starscream out of the Trine, and keep you and Skywarp. If you don't, I might need to find another Trine for Skywarp." She smirked. "Or for you." He grinned, in return, "You wouldn't."
Abruptly, she was struck by that thought, "… Maybe. We'll see. Or won't we?"
He stopped, and stood, fully, taking a step back to disengage from the fight, "Yeah. Yeah, alright. You gonna talk to Skywarp, too?"
She shook her head. "I don't trust him. He spends too much time with Soundwave."
Thundercracker glanced over her shoulder, where Soundwave and Skywarp sat, together, atop a stack of crates, near the bridge. "Yeah. I guess so. Any idea when?"
She nodded. "Soon." Then, louder, "Tomorrow morning, we'll meet here, usual time. Guess you could say I overslept today."
"Overslept?" He laughed, out loud. "I'd believe it, if you were a better liar. Don't get too lazy, huh? Else I might start beating you, out here – And then who would I learn from?" He waved, and walked off, back toward the door into the ship.
She laughed, but her eyes were set on Soundwave, who watched her, still and impassive as a statue.

The next morning, the early morning silence was shattered by the sound of six pairs of jets firing up, two Trines launching off from the Nemesis' foredeck. Three paired surges, the air crackling with the sheer power screaming across the deck. The low rumble of the catapults launching them forward. The slow, grinding hiss as they reset, hydraulic pressure building. Seconds later, three more paired surges, and the low rumble of the catapults firing them into the sky, once more.
She stood, and stretched, luxuriously, simultaneously running a systems diagnostic, and scanning the new information feed she'd received, overnight. Trines two and three were leaving to retrieve the rogue Decepticon, Airachnid, from her lair, some distance away. Despite being nearly an hour early, she stepped out onto the foredeck, her olfactory sensors taking in the scent of burnt fuel, scorched rubber screaming across metal plating; the faint, burnt scent of ionization, from the plasma-based thrusters. She began stretching, relaxing herself, according to a mental routine left over from her human days. Despite the fact that such things were unnecessary for her new body, she still took some comfort from the familiarity. A few minutes later, Thundercracker's soft voice encroached on the morning silence. "I find it odd that you do that. I have tried, but I cannot analyze a certain purpose for it. The nearest analogue is human calisthenics."
She frowned, and ended her stretching early, taking a moment to clench her fingers into a fist, and then unclench, canting her head to look at him. "Early for training?"
He canted his head, in response, in a mockery of her, "Couldn't sleep."
Her frown deepened, "Right. May as well start early."

Practice that day only ran for an hour, ending early. He was catching up to her. Had learned everything she'd taught him; But she'd been careful to keep a few specific advantages back, though he had forced her to fight at her full speed. He smiled at her, visibly about to speak, to take up their earlier conversation - And stopped, abruptly. In the distance, she heard the faint tremor of engines in afterburner. She turned to look, and saw one member of Third Trine flying back. Alone. His right wing appeared to be holed, and a thin stream of smoke trickled from a larger puncture on the left side of his fuselage. She responded first, tapping into the Nemesis' comms, "KnockOut, get up here. We have an incoming. Badly injured - Third Trine. Looks like Chaff. Trailing smoke, multiple piercing injuries." A moment later, the crisp, flat reply, "On my way."
Nearly a minute later, KnockOut walked out of the Nemesis, his lips a thin, flat line. Chaff was only another minute or so away. Thundercracker leapt off, shifting into his Jet form. Chaff was coming in exceptionally low. Thundercracker slipped in underneath him, and carefully nudged upward, lifting his listing right wing, and helping him keep enough altitude to get over the deck, and shift down. He collapsed, his body heaving, shaking with the exertion and drain of a long, injured flight. Droplets of fuel dripped from his torn left shoulder, dribbling into a little rainbow slick that trailed behind his every step. Around his neck, a fine, silver-white cord bound him, tightly. His eyes opened, dull, listless, barely clinging to consciousness, and the voice that spoke through him was not his own, "You thought you could take me back, so simply? Just tell me to come back… Or else? Or else what, little machineling." "Megatron," Thundercracker murmured into his comms, "You may wish to see this." He calmly drew his gun, and pointed it at Chaff's core. Taking a hint, Oracle slid out her blade. After a moment, she looked at Thundercracker, incredulous, "Do you see how badly wounded he is? We don't need to make it worse."
"Oracle? Meet Airachnid. Airachnid, Oracle." Despite pointing the gun, his tone was carefully polite. "Oracle," the voice hissed in response, low and sinister. It sent chills through her circuits, and she felt her fluids run cold. Chaff held out his hand with an uncharacteristic haughtiness. He smirked, sly, and edged, "If we meet again, you won't like it very much. Aren't most humans afraid of spiders?" Chaff canted his head, but there was something unsettling about the angle. She shuddered, "I wouldn't know," she remembered to reply, after a moment. Thundercracker gave her an odd look. "Of course." Chaff's laugh was cold, sharp, brittle, like broken glass. Suddenly, the laugh cut off, and Chaff went completely limp. The fine silver thread around his neck shivered, and abruptly burned itself to ashes, so hot that the heat blistered the armor of his neck, and left a rainbow sheen on the metal where it warped the surface. Megatron frowned, looking at the thin streamer of smoke sizzling from the scorch marks. "Airachnid?" Thundercracker nodded, frowning deeply. "The others?" "No mention," Thundercracker replied. He sighed, heavily.
Megatron stepped back, and tapped into the Decepticon's comms aboard the Nemesis, his voice filling the ship, "All Decepticon Seekers, prepare to move out. We pursue Airachnid."
Within ten minutes, all the Decepticon Seekers - Trines one, four, and five, Soundwave, and Megatron himself, all lined up in their groups. Soundwave stood, still and silent, beside her. "Fifth Trine, you have the honor of Vanguard. First Trine, ahead of me. Seeker Soundwave, Seeker Oracle, we will remain at the center.
He frowned, deeply, "Interrogator Airachnid is very skilled, and very powerful. We've already sent ahead the Vehicons. We'll be waiting for them to signal that they've reached the target point before launching our attack. Fifth Trine, fly carefully. She uses webs as traps and sensors both. She's going to know we're coming from the moment we get nearby. Strike hard, strike fast. Take her back alive. Fifth Trine, fly first. Decepticons, bring her down!"

Half an hour later, they abruptly tilted down, and, as if a flock of birds, sprinted downward toward the cave entrance, entering sensor range, all at once. Glistening silvery strands covered the whole area, like a massive spider's web. Several strands waved in the air like pale, silken ribbons, twisting and writhing in the wind. Soundwave twisted aside, and struck out, tentacles emerging from his fingertips, long, and slender, like whips, and neatly sliced through the waving strands near them. The strands burned away, sizzling and sparking as they drifted with the wind. Fifth Trine accelerated, and dove into the cave, weapons blasting away at something inside.
When Oracle came around the corner, she almost panic-shifted back into her robotic form. A thick cable, several strands wound together, nearly ripped her wing off. A careful jerk to the side dodged past it, and then underneath another cable, frantically swerving side to side, up, and down, to avoid the cabled traps. She saw a member of Fifth Trine, wing neatly severed from his body, grasping his injured, seeping shoulder. Beneath, the Vehicons fired upward at the anchoring clusters of silvery cables. With a heave, one cluster snapped loose, and whipped down with enough tension to shatter several large rocks, and split one Vehicon in half. More carefully, they advanced again, blowing apart chunks of rock, while the tendrils of fiber optic cable clung possessively to their rough faces. In the main chamber, she had enough room to actually turn a circle, around the edges, and do a full flip in the sheer height of the cleared space; except for the silvery tendrils which criss-crossed the open space like a spider's nest. She abruptly realized, from a sting of pain, that one of the cables had neatly trimmed off the tip of her right wing. She winced, shivering from the keen agony of the cleanly clipped wing. An angled cut snipped a little off her tail-tips, causing her flight path to waver, narrowly avoiding another cable that would have bisected her. Frantically, she fought to find enough of a gap to buy herself a moment to think.

Beside her, Soundwave easily dodged every strand, his narrower form easily dancing between the cables with practiced ease. Suddenly, he wrenched backward, and vanished from her sight, as she fought herself back to the main tunnel, where the Vehicons had made good progress clearing space. They advanced to the door to the main chamber, blasting away with precise shots at the anchors of the various lumps of cables. A cluster of cables twisted, as it fell, and tore through the back of Thundercracker's wing. Skywarp was almost constantly teleporting, attacking the ceiling of the chamber from various angles, dancing around and between cables with stutter-flashes of light. A pair of missiles leapt from underneath his wings, and twin thundering explosions dropped chunks of rock, and pillars of dust, from the ceiling. Suddenly, a tendril snapped down in front of him, and just briefly kissed across his fuselage. The metal split open like an over-pressurized can, and with a scream, Skywarp plummeted into the ground, rolling and tumbling. Starscream fought, but abruptly pulled back, barely avoiding that same tendril, as it lashed across the chamber, toward him. Oracle dove back into the fray, firing at the lumps of tendrils where they crossed or clung to the walls, attempting to fight a path through to the wounded Thundercracker.

Abruptly, Soundwave dropped into sight right behind Thundercracker, a quick whip-strike of tentacles severing a swinging tendrils, which burned and spun aside, thrashing on the ground, as it dissolved. He wrapped his hand around the broken cable, and yanked himself upward. Airachnid threw the severed cable aside, hoping to rob Soundwave of his momentum, but he was relentless. The tentacles reached from his right hand, and wrapped around one of her long, spidery limbs, as he struck forward with the other bundle. She narrowly deflected that strike with a reaching limb, turning it aside, and striking back with a thin, silvery cable. Held abruptly still, she unleashed a hail of violet pulses toward him. He twisted aside, and parts of his chest fell away, a couple of them lightly struck. Suddenly, they turned around, and began blasting away at her, shooting for the tips of her spidery limbs. Soundwave sliced into the leg he had grabbed, and whipped at her chest. She tugged one limb away from the wall, hissing at the sparking stump of the other, and deflected his attack. A moment later, however, two of her legs broke loose, and she swung precariously away from the wall. A snake-swift strike pulled another leg from the ceiling, and she began to fall. Her legs grappled onto Soundwave, and he twisted away, yanking her underneath him. They fell through a steady succession of silvery strands, which broke against her falling mass, slicing deep gouges in her armor. Finally, just before striking the ground, her momentum dissipated, she landed across a cable, and slid off of it; the friction against the razor-thin cable cut two of her spidery limbs from her back, and, finally, screaming with pain, she struck the ground, and went silent. One of Soundwave's tentacled fingers extended, and plugged into the base of her neck, salvaging memory data from her unconscious form. He stood, almost as if only just now noticing the damage Airachnid had wreaked upon them, completely unconscious of the savage cuts and slashes which marked his forearms, and the little pockmarks on his chest plating where his drones had been damaged. He calmly knelt, and pulled Airachnid over his shoulders, walking toward the cave entrance. Oracle landed next to him, switching up into her robot form. "What about the others?"

Soundwave glanced back at them, dismissively, and then kept walking, as if to say, Who?
She walked over, and pulled the injured Skywarp over her shoulder, Thundercracker limping alongside, and the Vehicons did what they could to help lift the other injured Decepticons. The other five members of the two Trines were found nearby, bound tightly in Airachnid's cables. Megatron frowned at the damage, and tapped to the Nemesis' comms, "Bring the Nemesis in closer. And tell KnockOut his services are needed groundside."
He glanced at the lined up, heavily injured bodies, and grunted in disapproval. "And we'd best pray there's no incidents with the autobots." Genesis, standing nearby, frowned, and nodded in response.
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Re: Transformers: Legacy

Postby Oracle Eyes » Sun Jan 13, 2013 11:42 pm

Motto: "Its not the end of the Journey that makes life worth living...its the Journey itself."
Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Chapter Ten
An Attempted Coup


Rising, as often, proved painful. The tips of her tails, and the end of her wing, despite KnockOut’s tending, were still sore, and sensitive to the chill air. She flexed her systems, slowly, running an efficiency diagnostic, taking into account the injuries to her frame. She rated herself at 97% flight efficiency, but only 94% combat efficiency, and immediately began assessing the optimal repair schedule. She confirmed, and then sent along the schedule to KnockOut, who replied, a few moments later, with confirmation. She walked toward the repair bay, outwardly blank, but inwardly, she pondered her plan of action. Her injuries were much more mild than those of Starscream’s Trine. If ever there was a time for attack, it was now. She brought up and displayed a message from that morning.

‘Starscream’s right leg thruster is damaged, and the casing is cracked. It’s a weakpoint. Strike carefully, and quick.'

She replayed the memories of the battle in her head, watching every wound they had taken, looking carefully for weaknesses. When she felt confident of her appraisal, she strolled into repair bay, where Starscream sat, hunched forward, on one of the slabs. “Starscream," she began, not even slowing her stride, until she was face to face with him. Thundercracker and Skywarp were immediately behind their leader, Thundercracker an invisible half-step farther back than Skywarp. “I challenge for leadership of your Trine."

Starscream laughed, outright, startled by her bold claim, but his eyes narrowed, aggressively, and his airfoils snipped shut, giving his body a slightly leaner, more predatory aspect. He stood, slowly, his eyes never leaving her. “And why should I let you do that, little bird?"

“I challenge you," she repeated, “for leadership of your Trine."

He nodded, thoughtfully. “Fine. One hour, front deck. Are you sure you can take," he gestured, expansively, ‘All of us?'

She nodded, sharply, tucking her own airfoils in close, and drawing herself up, like a bird of prey in black and blue. Starscream took a half-pace aside showing off the lean, angular form of his body, shoulders drawn back in a gesture of intimidation. She remained facing forward, though her jet intakes fluttered, and a slight heat-haze rippled into view around her engines. “One hour, Starscream."

He turned his back on her, unconcerned, and Skywarp turned with him. Thundercracker delayed, just a moment as she locked eyes with him. He simply stared back, his expression blank, before turning, with a very tiny nod of his head.

An hour later, she was perched on the tip of the ship, staring outward, over the vast desert. She heard the commotion of heavy metallic boots lining up farther back, taking positions on the deck. Eventually, right on the hour mark, she felt three pairs of feet walking up behind her, two of them in unison. “You wanted your challenge, flightling?" Starscream hissed out, stridently, behind her, “Let the challenge begin." Before she could even turn, she felt his heavy boot connect with her back propelling her out into open air. She turned, in midair, to face them, and saw Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp already mid-transformation, standing at the edge of the ship. Distantly she saw a distinctive, two-pronged silhouette atop the bridge, with a narrow, jagged form beside him.

Thundercracker and Skywarp dove, Starscream right behind, in their fight forms, moving to swiftly box her in, but she transformed, and dove under them, dodging beneath the ship. Frantic pursuit swept after her, engines screaming in echo from the smooth bottom of the Nemesis, the plate above her head singing with the vibrations of powerful engines straining for an edge. She spun, upide-down, and pulled into a tight loop, attempting to once more slip beneath their charging triangle, but Skywarp suddenly closed wings into robot form, and very nearly slammed into her, as she desperately rolled out of the way. She yanked up, tightly, on her right-side airfoils spinning as she shifted back into robot, for a brief dive, and then shifting back up to race right over Thundercracker, who attempted a clumsy grab, and missed. Skywarp appeared in front of her, a double-flash, and sunk his fingers into the leading edges of her wings, yanking her downward as her momentum screeched and strained at the metal of her wings. He yanked sideways, and released, throwing her, disoriented, straight into the path of Thundercracker who landed a heavy, glancing blow across the flat of her left wing, with much less force then there could’ve been. She spun downward, out of control for a painful few seconds, before she regained her orientation, and took control of the dive, forcing her suddenly hesitant left wing to take her into a graceless arc across the sky. She pinged her active radar, picking up on two blips, nearby. Suddenly, a third appeared, directly in front of her. She dove aside, narrowly avoiding Skywarp’s grab, barely sliding past him, but directly into the path of a vicious grab-tackle, by Starscream. He gripped onto her, as she tried to switch back into robot form, and forced her already-injured left wing to remain out. His left hand gripped the base of her left wing’s leading edge, while his right hand pulled forcefully at her engines. She grimaced, with pain, as they fell into a rapid dive, losing altitude, as they both attempted to thrust into an advantageous position.

In her mind, she reached a decision.

Suddenly, as Starscream released, to go for a grab at her face, she spun aside – and rapidly vanished from sight. Startled, Starscream released the empty air in front of him, desperately clawing his way out of the dive, in flight form. An instant later, there was a massive impact on the lower left side of his back, just above the thruster itself, cracking the housing around the engine. He gave a strident yell of pain, twisting around to strike at empty air. A ripple in the air, like a haze of heat, taunted him, from just outside of his reach.

She felt the rapid pings of his radar, like grease in the air, siding off of her active camouflage, as she dove past him, swinging around sharply, to drive a vicious punch into his wing as he began to transform back. Skywarp and Thundercracker flew close, attempting to spot the suddenly invisible target which assaulted their leader. Trine adaptability struck quickly into action, as Oracle was forced to disengage, to avoid their racing wings. She clawed for altitude, wartching them vanish to tiny dots far beneath her, and waiting for an opening. She slid into a backflip, and pointed her nose at the dot on the right, speeding rapidly closer, as she slammed on her engines, pouring energy into her afterburners, which made the air behind her flicker silver-blue. As she drew swiftly closer, the dot on the right climbed, to take an overwatch position, placing him exactly perpendicular to her line of flight. The purple and white shape resolved in front of her, only instants before she transformed, right foot extended before her dive.

The massive, crunching impact actually caused her camouflage to flicker and fail briefly, as parts of her body became briefly visible, like a patchwork image of a bird of prey.

Skywarp, however, briefly angled upward, as her foot struck just below his centerline, rocketing him upward, before he fell into a half-loop, and began a steep fall, wingtip-first, toward the ground. His engines flickered and failed, as the sudden impact actually knocked his electronics into a forced-shutdown. A sudden, angry scream rent the air, as Thundercracker accelerated into her, knocking her sideways, as she hung suspended in the air, all of her momentum transferred to the falling Decepticon. Thundercracker immediately pushed off of her, and dove for his fallen brother, as Starscream spun over to engage her.

Her active camouflage finally failed, fully, from the second, unexpected impact. She tried to regain altitude, but Starscream battered at her, with his wings, forcing her to lose height too rapidly. Finally, they plummeted near the ground, and she forced herself away from him just soon enough to throw herself into a roll, as she transformed into robot form. He followed swiftly after her, striking at her with short, vicious jabs and kicks. She reached out, and grabbed his leg, yanking him downward to the ground, viciously, and rolled on top of him, to punch at his face and chest, cracking the housing around his spark.

A sudden impact from her side took her off of Starscream, Thundercracker following up with a series of jabs and twists, avoiding all of her desperate strikes, and striking back with directed rage. “Thundercracker!" She cried out as he kicked her across the midsection, sending her tumbling. “This wasn’t what we agreed to," he growled out, following up with a sharp stomp across her forearm, crunching the motivators, and paralyzing her right hand. He twisted, and moved to stomp on her face, though she pulled herself out of the way, and punched forcefully into his thigh. He staggered, as she pulled herself up, her right forearm failing her, and making her fall onto her chest. He slammed a foot into her ribs, flipping her over, and punched down into her already broken right arm, as she tried to ward off his strike. “You nearly killed him!" Thundercracker snarled at her, angrily, ruthlessly driving another kick into the damaged forearm. She attempted to speak, again, but her vocal systems were short-circuited by a violent kick to the throat.

She gagged, as her body translated the strike into the vicious blow it would have been to her human body, and her air intakes shut up tightly, engines sputtering, starved of air. She rolled out of the way, as Starscream stepped up, and grabbed her by the back of her head, dragging her, on her knees, across the ground. She pushed open her air intakes, and heaved a desperate breath of air, engines beginning to whine with building power, until Starscream simply slammed his fist into the left air intake crumpling it, and choking off the air supply to the engine. Linmp and unresistant, he pulled her into the shade of a cliff, the Nemesis just out of sight. He grabbed her intact left arm, by the elbow, and slowly wrenched it around, until the motivators cracked, and crumpled. She looked around, her visual sensors filled with static, as systems began failing. A sharp, angular shadow resided, deeper within the shade of the Cliffside, leaning casually back, a completely featureless face watching her, impassively, from the darkness. Thundercracker took a few more, vicious strikes at her prone form, before stepping back. “I don’t take kindly to sparkings challenging my authority," Starscream hissed at her, pacing back and forth, slowly. “In fact, I think you’re about to have a horrible… Accident." Almost imperceptibly, he glanced toward Soundwave, who gestured, imperiously. Starscream’s gun extended from his right forearm, and he placed the barrel directly against her core’s casing. “No one will ever know, little Sparkling. I could end you, right here… And no one would notice. No one. And everything would go back… How… It… Was." The blaster’s core began to spin to life, charging with energy. A moment later, there was a heavy impact of massive feet striking down, a short distance behind. Starscream’s blaster withdrew, and he lifted her by her chassis. Genesis’ voice growled out, “Starscream, you’ve won. You remain the leader of your Trine. Oracle, you have failed in your attempt to take leadership of the first Trine, and, for now, will remain without one. Well flown, all of you. KnockOut will tend to your injuries aboard the Nemesis." She looked, pleadingly, up at Genesis who didn’t even look at her, as he spoke. He gestured, and the leading edge of the Nemesis slowly crept into sight, above. The flares of dozens of engines lit up the underside of the Nemesis’ hull, as they approached. “Seeker Starscream, First Trine Leader, remains leader!" Genesis shouted to the approaching Seekers, and many cheers replied. Starscream glared down the length of his arm at Oracle, before tossing her up against the Cliffside, and walking away.

Only she noticed that, just as he was walking away, he paused for an infinite moment and glanced in the direction where Soundwave had been, not even his footprints remaining in the sand to show he had ever been present. Her ocular sensors, static-ridden and unclear, registered something that surprised even her; when Starscream looked at the deep shadows where the other Decepticon had been, he almost seemed afraid.

Her body gave one last shudder of energy, and went dark, as her systems fell into a full reset cycle. Red damage assessment lights blinked on all over her body, as her eyes slid closed.
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