Collaborative Fic: Wasteland

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Fierceawakening, Aug 8, 2011.

  1. Fierceawakening

    Fierceawakening Deceptigeek

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    This is a collaborative fanwork discussed in this planning thread.
    ====
    Barricade sped through the blasted streets, his engines roaring as he raced through the remnants of the city. He hated this, and it only made him faster, as if the sooner he arrived, the sooner he could leave again.

    It wouldn't be that way. It never was. Shockwave was too slagging patient for that. And Skywound was worse. Shockwave -- Lord Shockwave, he reminded himself, his tires squealing in irritation he didn't bother to disguise -- would stand around staring at everyone with that massive, glowing optic, saying only enough that the other Decepticons knew he'd heard them. Skywound would do all the talking. Too much talking, if anyone asked Barricade. Gliding around the war room discussing and analyzing while the rebels took advantage of his overprocessing to dig themselves deeper into whatever holes they were hiding in.

    The broken pavement of the alien streets caught in his tires. It might once have been painful, but pain like that was an honor to bear, a reminder of Decepticon victory. His headlights shone as he swerved by what was left of one of the humans' "skyscrapers", a hollow, burned out frame built of reflective glass panels that once had shone like something in Crystal City back home. Now it was cracked, and reflected only burning. That was good. It took his mind off Shockwave, for the moment, and his endless, silent thinking.

    It wasn't like Barricade didn't do plenty of thinking himself. You had to, to hunt these slaggers down. Autobots hadn't been built for war, not centuries ago, not at the beginning. But they'd learned to fight. And there wasn't a single Autobot protoformed in the last few centuries that hadn't learned to form weapons the very first time it took a form.

    It was time for every Decepticon on this Primus-forsaken dirtball of a planet to face facts, even the goons that made up the main army: they weren't the only warriors now. And although they'd managed to conquer this planet and Lord Megatron himself had left Shockwave in charge, they'd given their enemies ample time to learn the fine art of what the organic scum that lived on this planet called "the guerrilla."

    The center of the city burned. Undeterred, Barricade swerved toward the flames. In the center, a misshapen spire loomed above even the largest Decepticons, the ones who took up entire city blocks. Far too large to be made of even the largest human building, it had been constructed from the remnants of the humans' tallest skyscrapers and welded together like some sort of hellish metallic chimera, Earth's materials warped into a mockery of Cybertron's construction.

    More cultured Decepticons might have called it beautiful, the best approximation they could make of home, rising to spear an alien sky. Barricade called it grotesque, when he bothered to call it anything.

    Barricade transformed and walked inside, the welded-together plates of metal that served as the tower's doors sliding open for him. Makeshift as they were, they moved silently. Shockwave liked peace and quiet.

    He walked toward one of the lifts in the entranceway, willing his spark to stop whirling so hard as he climbed onto the platform and it rose. The energy left over from his high-speed driving zipped through his circuits, making him jittery. But although he was no Shockwave, he was perfectly capable of calm when he needed it. You didn't root out prey by being nervous.

    You did that by being thorough. By following the vermin into every hole it burrowed and blasting or burning it out.

    And his enforcers should be doing that right now. And he should be doing that right now, not on his way to make some stupid, slagging report to commanders who were losing time overanalyzing everything.

    He vented a loud snort as he left the lift, not giving a scrap who might have heard it.
    ====
    [Notes on this part/chapter: Here we go, y'all! I tried to introduce some basic information about who does what on the 'Con side without making mass infodump. Next turn could be Autobot and/or human introductory whatever, or if people want to do the Decepticon strategy meeting now that's fine with me too -- though I can't promise I can write another big chunk until the weekend.]
     
  2. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    There was life remaining, even in the fire. Earthlings had to learn to live with the Decepticon suppression, and many of them believed it was their only way to survive. No other chance, nothing at all...
    Olivia was brought up by parents who surrendered and had both been obedient slaves of the 'Cons, and whenever she questioned their decision, she was told they did it for her. This made her feel sick and guilty, especially since she had to admit they made the right choice. Those who fought were almost all killed by now. The rest was missing in action.
    She was walking home (or, the small hole that once had been a cellar of a shop that she called a home), watching her masters passing her, assembling for the meeting. She was glad she didn't have to be there, at least. Eventhough she was brought up with Decepticons around, many of them were still too many for her.
    She stopped at the last corner, looking around. The 'Cons were gone, all of them out of sight, for once. She considered her chances of being noticed by any of them, but finally she found her courage to check out something that caught her eye about a month ago, after a shooting she heard but did not dare to ask anyone about.
    She looked around. Nothing moved. Nothing at all. She walked across the street, trying to look like a casual passerby. She found the pile of garbage that had not been there before the shooting. She pushed some part of it away.
    Under the wreck of some traffic lights, there was something green. It was mostly covered in dust, dented, and she could clearly see a black stripe that marked a shot on the metal. She continued digging.
    What she found was the remnant of a smart car, banged up but not beyond repair. Well.... it wouldn't be beyond repair if there was a way to work on it without being noticed.
    Hm. The back of the book shop would do just fine, it was next door to the shop she was living under, and it had no cellar so no-one lived under it. She tried if she could just roll the smart in there.... and she was surprised how easily it was moved.
    Five minutes passed, and there she was, standing in the middle of the street, wondering what to do with the obvious tyreprints in the dust. She checked on the smart, making sure it was hidden so that it won't be noticed from the outside.... well, apart from the prints, of course. She looked up at the ceiling, as if looking at the sky. What can I do now, she asked. It wasn't her intention to get into any trouble. She knew what her parents sacrifized for her.
    She spotted the stairs to the first floor, surprisingly intact and almost beckoning. She went up, only to find an abandoned toy store with its shelves mostly covered by dust and Mudflap figures. But something on the top of a distant shelf caught her eye. She was not really sure what it was, but it was temptingly hiding on the upper shelf, it could be seen from the approach but not from right next to the shelf. She looked out through the window, the tyreprints were so clearly visible it made her feel guilty, but at the same time she noticed that if she would climb on the windowsill she could reach the upper shelf and....
    That's it, she realised. The window, and the shelf. And gravity, the most reliable thing she knew on Earth.
    She pushed the shelf out of the window. The fresh prints were immediately hidden by the dust accumulated all over the years.
    She hurried downstairs, knowing any D'Con would be angry if they found the shelf blocking their way. She had to push the remainings out of the way.
    She felt that she had already done more pushing in the last ten minutes than in her entire life.
    A boy from the other end of the street showed up, his light brown hair floating in the wind.
    "Hi, Mike."
    "Hi. What happened?"
    "O don't know. Once I've been there and even then I wondered what kept this shelf from collapsing, but I sure have no idea why it deciced to fall out of the window."
    The boy nodded. "We'd better get it out of the way."
    "Yeah, I think so. Wanna help me?"
    "No.... but I think I will need to anyway. On the count of three."
    Soon, their own footprints covered those left by the green car.
    Olivia stumbled home and dropped on the nearest chair. She was too tired for anything but bend over the table and fall asleep.
     
  3. Galvanitro

    Galvanitro Vanguardian

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    "Don't do it. The 'Cons will comes like bears to honey." Kara Tranor begged. The old Autobot activated his cannon, and pushed her away. "I'm too far gone, Kara. Tell the others...find help...we will win this war. Your planet will be free, someday." Tears fell from her eyes as she ran forward to hug his leg, "What happened to being grizzled and angry..."

    "They always say...when you're about to go, you see more than you did before. And I see that you've always been here for me. Fixing this, welding that. And I thank you for the many extra years you have given me. Now short out the block. The 'Cons are getting slagged."

    Closing her eyes, Kara pressed a few buttons on her arm-mounted micro-computer. "Don't go...you'll never make it." "It'll protect the others...will protect you." The greenish-blue Autobot stood up and ran out of the alley as all of the lights went out.

    He lifted his rifle and fired through multiple drones. Running forward, he punched a Decepticon, spinning him around to use as shield against fire from the others whose optics had adjusted. He tossed the drone into another one, transforming into his truck mode, slamming into multiple drones, before turning and changing back to robot mode.

    "Come on, 'cons!"

    Not being able to take it, Kara got more into the alley and opened her communicator, "I see a Destroyer coming on the monitor! Run!"

    "Bye, my friend." Having seen it and heard it before she called, the Autobot ran in the direction of grinding metal, right at the Destroyer.

    "KUP, NO!" She heard loud blaster fire, and watched on her monitor, as two signals went out. The Destroyer...and her best friend.
     
  4. Fierceawakening

    Fierceawakening Deceptigeek

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    Barricade frowned, stomping through the twisted remnants of the street on his feet. He didn't feel like walking. Not when he was in a mood this foul. Times like these, he just wanted to drive.

    But he couldn't, not when the fighting here had blasted the whole block and taken out one of the Destroyers.

    He waved to the other Decepticons with him and activated his scanners, sweeping the area. It was formality, really; a scientist would have sharper scanners than his. But he was the leader, the hunter, the one tasked to ferret out the holdouts and slaughter them. You had to keep up appearances, after all.

    His average scanners didn't pick up any life signs, but did pick up the telltale ping of Cybertronian metal. Frowning, he hastened toward it and gestured toward the excavators, who bent down to toss away great handfuls of rubble, while the scientist with him made soft humming sounds, examining everything.

    "There."

    Barricade bent down over the body, studying the blackened, twisted metal, looking for an insignia, a communicator, anything. But the Autoscum were getting smart these days, and he couldn't find a thing. He growled again and accessed his databanks, trying to identify the body.

    "Lord" Shockwave would want to know who'd done this. Personally, he didn't give a scrap who it had been, unless that was a clue to who else he'd died defending. It was just another last stand kind of thing. Some of 'em were still prone to that, even now.

    He snorted, picking his way through the rubble. He didn't care who'd felt like playing hero here. He cared where the others were, and whether they'd be ready to take out another destroyer when he found them.

    "Here," hissed his scientist, holding up a blackened, twisted piece of metal.

    Barricade growled as his four optics narrowed. Skilled hunter that he was, he knew immediately it was no piece of scrap metal. But he wasn't at all sure he would have noticed it himself, and that made him even angrier than usual. "That's got data?"

    "It does. Or it did, before this one met his end."

    "Then analyze it," Barricade muttered. And hurry. I'm getting bored.
     
  5. Galvanitro

    Galvanitro Vanguardian

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    Episode 1:

    Kara Tranor, sixteen going on seventeen, with long brownish-blond hair that slumped past her shoulders, pulled her jet black jacket on, pulling the sleeves down to make sure they covered her arm computers. Gathering her hair in her hands, she tied a band around it, and left it in a long ponytail.

    She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears from falling out. Kup was her best friend. He was the one who had saved her when her dad got killed. When she had only just turned eleven years old. Almost six years now. Team Aurex, led by the old and cranky hero Rawbones, and comprised of good 'ol Kup, and the jolly medic Hoist, they hadn't been the best role models, but they were her family.

    Opening her eyes to the near darkness of the street, she spotted a black and purple motorcycle sitting in an alleyway, barely visible if it weren't for the purple lights blinking on and off. She walked quickly over to the cycle, as to not draw the attention of the Zephyr system, the Decepticon's network. The Zephyr controlled everything on the planet, developed by Shockwave himself. Offensive systems, shield defenses, communications. Until just recently the Autobots and the N.E.S.T. resistance couldn't even communicate with each other except for meeting in person. Now they could use limited radio, but only for emergencies.

    It had been over ten years since the Decepticons had taken over Earth. The resistance had been fighting hard until a year ago when Team Prime was captured and sent to the Garrus-9 prison in what used to be New York City. Team Prime, composed of Arcee, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Optimus Prime, were the heart of the resistance. It hasn't been as successful since they were captured.

    Getting onto the motorcycle, Kara rested her forehead on the dashboard, as the engines started. "Crying ain't gonna bring him back, Kara. Now poke your head up so the 'Cons don't get suspicious." Rawbones told her.

    She pulled her head up, and they took off out of the alleyway, and down the road.
     
  6. Galvanitro

    Galvanitro Vanguardian

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    Purple lights lit up the road in front of Rawbones as he and Kara rode through the night. Darkness had fallen quickly, which suited him just fine, he didn't need to be seen by Zephyr. Luckily purple neon lighting had become more common among human vehicles, so it helped him blend in more.

    He turned his front wheel left then right quickly. "Stay awake, Kara. Not too much farther, so don't get us caught now." He liked the kid, he did, but...she was still female, and Rawbones had a bit of a male chauvinistic personality, even if he was a sentient robot. They had fembots on Cybertron, and he was the same way with them.

    Kara stretched slightly, and tried to shift a little. "Sorry..." She replied drowsily, "I don't normally have to worry about this with the others."

    "Well, you're gonna have to get used to it."

    "Look, I've never been seen before and never will be. That's what Titan is for," She added, moving her right arm slightly. Titan is what she called the computer. It had belonged to her dad, Ben Tranor, but when he got killed, she took it with her. It was his life's work, and with Hoist and Ratchet's help over the years, she had continued it.

    "Yeah, yeah. But that little computer won't save you when you're being hunted by a 'Con. You know it, and I know it. It's going to be even harder for us to protect you now. Without Kup...we've lost a fighting power. Because, Primus' knows...Hoist ain't going to be much help if a few destroyers come to play."

    "You know they don't have that many destroyers, and even then, most are in big cities."
    "Huh, somehow I remember Chicago being a big city."
    "I suppose."

    Chicago was one of the cities hit by the Decepticon blitzkrieg, used for a base of operations.

    Kara shuddered at the sight of the burning city. She closed her eyes as Rawbones continued driving, no longer affected by the scars of war.
     
  7. Fierceawakening

    Fierceawakening Deceptigeek

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    Barricade's tires spun as he watched the readouts scroll by yet again. Kup. That was the name of the Autobot who'd played hero to save his -- friends? Allies? Comrades? Most Autobots had a strange way of considering all those things exactly the same. Barricade didn't know how that worked, but he did know that it sometimes led to mechs that would otherwise have been useful to their own objectives dying in a blaze of... stupidity.

    This one had been very useful, it seemed, for a very long time. His team -- Aurex, it seemed the name was, from this data -- had, it seemed, taken part in many recent raids, prison breaks, and unsolved attacks on Decepticons of every rank and function. And if these records were accurate, he'd been a driving force on that team. Barricade still wasn't certain if he'd been its leader, but they'd lost someone quite important.

    Which made them all the more ripe for hunting. He frowned as the data scrolled by again. It gave him names, or nicknames at least: Hoist, Raw-something. But those names weren't useful, not until he had some way of finding the mechs who went by those names. Of course, he knew who to go to to seed inquiries and ask questions that would lead him to those answers, but he needed something definite, and he needed something soon, if Team Aurex was powerful enough to go after slagging destroyers. Even if one of their mechs was out of commission, whoever was left could be a real problem.

    But how could he find mechs whose names he had no records of and whose forms could change as easily as performing a scan?

    His four optics widened. Maybe it wasn't the mechs he should be looking for. Grinning now, he scanned the data again, looking for a name... and found it.

    "Kara Traynor," he rumbled.

    It wasn't much. The human had probably changed her name to evade detection as often as the mechs of her team had changed their shapes. But it was something. Something that could be heard, and remembered, and asked after...

    ...and that was as good a first step as any.
     
  8. Overlord Balder

    Overlord Balder Voices Slugslinger!

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    Chicago.
    Two vehicles move through the dark, cloudy night amidst shattered vehicles and burning corpses, one black SUV and one grey helicopter are the only moving things at sight: Everything else is burning in flames, pure chaos and death rides through the streets alongside these two mysterious figures.
    Within seconds, the Black suv twists its parts around himself, forming a thirty foot tall machine with a sadistic grin and a long set of dreadlocks: That was Crankcase.

    "You HAD to take down that chopper, Vortex? He was IN MY AIM." He reloaded his arm gun as he said with his psychotic distorted voice, "You stole my kill, I NEEDED that Pilot's skull for my collection!"

    The grey helicopter transforms as well and lands on his feet: A tall grey, menacing robot with helicopter blades on his back and one squared eye; That was Vortex.

    "I had too, the pilot looked at me funny, he was obviously doubting that I could take him down." He laughed, "Then I ripped off his lungs and destroyed the chopper with one hand, appropiate answer."

    Crankcase's glowing red eyes faced Vortex mightly "Regardless, that was amusing." he appretiated the tiny skull of one man with his eyes as they spoke: utter joy could be seen in his eyes, carried by a psychotic smile as he saw the skull of one of his fallen foes.

    Suddenly, a living human crawled out of the shattered vehicles, gravelly wounded but not dead.
    Before the human could say anything, Vortex swiftly grabbed him with one of his hands: Vortex's eyes analyzed the fleshling as his imagination flew high on the countless tortures he could think of: None short, all painful "You will have the honour of excruciating in pain BY MY HANDS."

    But before Vortex could execute his skills, something landed right behind them, a tall, bulky pitch-black Decepticon with yellow eyes.

    "Gentlemen." His loud, omnious voice echoed through their years: That was Skywound, "I have come here to be informed of your progress, my dear hunters." he looked at them with the eyes of an eagle, "Inform me."

    "We met a Resistance convoy, the results can be seen right in front of ya." Crankcase said upset; Skywound was far too "brainy" for him, he didn't trust Skywound. Not one bit.

    "Excellent." he concluded to himself, thoughtful, "Now, for more impending matters, I inform you both that Barricade requested your presence." he said calmly.

    "Then get the hell out of our way and let us Drive." Crankcase returned to his alt-mode and drove away in the night, Vortex followed.

    Skywound stared as they both drove away; reflecting on the future of the Decepticon cause: He feared those two Decepticons might lose their importance someday, and he might be forced to...retire them, rather unfortunate, in his opinion.
     
  9. Galvanitro

    Galvanitro Vanguardian

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    Rawbones turned into an alley, coasting down about half-way, before turning again into an almost hidden junkyard. Kara got off of him, and watched as he transformed and closed the gates.

    Suddenly some debris shifted as a green robot emerged. "Kara, Rawbones, good to see you back, and unharmed." Kara sat down on a wrecked car and began crying into her hands. Hoist raised his hand, about to say something, when Rawbones hand touched his shoulder. "Let her go. She needs sleep, she'll deal with it."

    Hoist frowned and nodded, "Good night, Kara."

    Kara nodded simply and reply, heading to the makeshift room she had. It was completely safe, though it didn't look it, the way the rubble was shifted. But it was safe and that's all that mattered. She laid down on her bed and closed her eyes, tears rolling down her face.

    Opening them briefly, she looked at her two pictures. One of her father and her from years ago, and a more recent one, taken two years ago.

    It was of her, her boyfriend Cade Walker, who was missing, and Kup...her best friend...who was now dead.
     
  10. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    Night.
    Night usually meant the period when Decepticons could see much better than humans could, but, exactly for this reason, they didn't expect any rebellion start then. Besides, their humans were usually too exhausted by now to do or try anything that could endanger them. Endanger? Hah. Damage their paint jobs, at least. Humans had no chance against any Decepticon, and both parties knew this all too well.
    Night.
    She should have been sleeping. But what if she just couldn't? Olivia smiled into her pillow at the memories of the day. She'd found and perfectly hid what seemed to be a green car. She decided to get it repaired, because everything in her world just tended to get damaged, and she firmly believed that things needed to get balanced. It just felt good to do something productive. She started with cleaning the wreck. And that was when she'd found part of a red marking on its chassis.
    At first, she was shocked. She had been working on a dead corpse of an Autobot?! An escapee who was shot dead in alt mode? Oddly, her first thought had been "Filthy Decepticons would be happy to see him dead. Maybe they would even reward me for finding him and handing in the remnants." She was disgusted by her own thought. Autobots had once been allies to humanity. They tried to protect them. This one was most likely shot dead after trying to do something for poor, battered Mother Earth. Wouldn't it be treason to hand in his remainings? She sighed, continued examining the wreck.... and as she opened the hood, she'd found a faint blue lightsource. Suddenly the world started spinning around her. She had to set her concerns aside. She had to forget about her surroundings. She had to focus on an old memory, of her long-gone uncle, talking to her about repairing Autobots. She tried to remember his words. Her uncle was sitting in his wheelchair, holding a screwdriver in his left, a bunch of wires in his right, pincers on his weak thin knees. He'd told her how a spark chasing's shape is similar to a pincer's inner side, how the supporting frame is surrounded by the wires, and how can one realign wires with nothing but a well-isolated scewdriver.
    She must have been acting on instinct. Now, half-asleep in her small room, she couldn't remember how she'd found the courage to start gathering the needed tools. She didn't recall sneaking back to the once-toystore building and getting down to work. She couldn't tell how she knew that the timid vibration of the blue spark had reflected her own desperate feelings. But she was sure she didn't come home until she stabilised the fading spark in its broken chasing.
    She sat up in her bed, listening. It was about 2 AM. Both her parents were asleep. She sighed as she put on her darkest clothes and slipped from her room.
    It pained her soul that she couldn't tell her parents, but they were both Decepticon supporters. Worst of all? They've done that for her. To make her life better. Safer. At least, bearable.
    She knew it was a real sacrifice for them. She knew that they only cooperated for her benefit, not because they ever believed in anything the murderous mechanisms ever said. Still, she remembered her uncle throwing fists when he learned they were changing sides. Her poor, gone but never forgotten, wheelchaired uncle! If only he could see her tonight! He would have been proud for sure.
    She slipped from one shade to the other, holding a piece of metal that once belonged to their vacuum cleaner's housing. Desperate times call for desperate deeds, or what. The metal arched just in the angle she needed.
    She wired the vacuum cleaner's housing into what she could only hope would support the fading blue spark. She didn't hesitate. Even if she would have put out the spark, it would have been better than letting it go out on its own, or worse, being found by his enemies. There was nothing to loose.
    She slipped home before sunrise, she put the piece of metal back onto the household device, making sure it was closed so not even the soft light would give her away.
    On the next day, when she was not falling asleep for the hundredth time, she had been worrying whether her parents would get suspicious if they'd caught her with the family vacuum cleaner in her hands.
    Even half-asleep, she knew that this was an impossibly silly idea. How could a human hide a weak spark in a vacuum cleaner? How could an unexperienced girl make a proper spark support out of it? But that spark had lasted almost a month in that green wreck, it had to be a strong, enduring one....
    And maybe there was another Autobot, somewhere, still holding on to the hope that the green car would someday show up. He could have been praying to Primus right now, praying for some little chance given to his partner. Some tiny miracle, that even an Autobot could be granted.
    And maybe Primus might have heard that prayer.
     
  11. Irony

    Irony fangirl

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    For the next few days Olivia had been working on stabilising the spark she was hiding in a sensorless, voiceless household equipment. It's been trial and lots of errors, but in retrospect, she felt she really had some inborn talent for Cybertronians. When she was ready with the makeshift spark support, she continued with the frame that was still hidden at the once-toystore building. To do that in front of Decepticon optics, she had to play a risky, evil game. She told the Cons about the green car she'd found. She pretended not to have found the Autobot marking, and she made a slightly confused and regretting face when the inspector thoroughly examined the burnt-out empty space of the spark that hadn't been there for weeks. The Con gloated at the sight of the sparkless body, and Olivia was sure he was making video documentation of the passed-away Autobot. It looked like the 'Bot caused them real trouble and the inspector seemed to be relieved that she didn't make it to the Autobots.
    Wait.... she? Olivia didn't risk showing interest. She? There weren't many Autobots, but female Autobots had been even rarer. Whom had she found?
    "I was wondering if I could get permission to repair the car" she murmured, as if to herself. The Con heard it, of course.
    "What?"
    "I was planning to make use of that car" she said, this time louder. "It would be a lot more convenient to get around in a car. Home, work, home, work. Like Sir Dylanseque does."
    The Decepticon gloated. He found it an amazing idea to show the Autobots what happened to their prying amazon. He gave Olivia permission, on the condition that she would only work on the wreck after completing her daily tasks. She humbly thanked and started writing the list of needed parts.
    "And they call themselves the masters of deception" she murmured when the Con was perfectly out of hearing range. Clearly, it was the occasion when the scolar exceled her master.
    That only indicated how long they'd been living under Decepticon suppression.


    -----
    That night an Autobot had said his last prayer.
    "Thank you for listening to me, Primus. Moonracer was confirmed dead" he sighed. "You tried. We all did. Do you have anything to say? 'Cos I don't. Sleep on, and dream of our better days. Don't you count on me ever again. won't count on you either. Goodbye."
    He felt a wave of reassurance in his spark, but most likely he mistook it for a farewell hug.
     

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