[ti]Flashback[/ti]Spotlight: Javelin
Apr 25, 2017 17:43:44 GMT -5
Post by Javelin on Apr 25, 2017 17:43:44 GMT -5
(During the war for Cybertron - one of the outlying cities)
The battle was going badly.
Javelin crouched behind the remains of a wall. Once part of a tall, beautiful building, it was now little more than a divider not much taller than she was when standing. Remains of gold trim and beautiful white metal was now scorched and blackened. War had left its mark here, as much as everywhere else.
Her bow was clutched tightly in a hand, as she peered out around the corner of the wall. Her view was that of a long street, ruined buildings and towers on either side. Rubble had fallen into the streets, blocking the road. It was now a treacherous pathway for anyone trying to navigate.
Smoke covered most of the area, drifting in and out with vague currents of air raised by the heat of the nearby battlefield. Explosions in the distance, crashes and booms. Periodic pops of gunfire could be heard. The air stank of scorch and burn, the scent of spilled energon, overheated metal, burned inner fluids.
Behind her, her superior officer sat on the ground, legs spread out before him, clutching a datapad in his servos, frantically typing. He grimaced against a large wound in his chest, steadily leaking energon.
She kept an eye out, one hand on the energy string of her bow, ready to aim and shoot should a Decepticon appear.
The battle hadn’t gone well.
They had gone into a fight on bad info. Either faulty, or intentionally incorrect. Now the Autobots were pinned down. The actual fight was taking place a short distance from where Javelin and the Officer waited. The city, already destroyed long before, was no stranger to battle.
Her officer had been trying to get back, to get reinforcement for the trapped Autobots. The battle had moved, and they were no longer where they were supposed to be. A scrambler probe had been deployed, and no radio transmissions were getting in or out. There were no carriers who could try to send their cassettes in. They were pinned down, with no way to signal for help by any of the usual methods. So it was down to a lower ranking Officer, and a single scout.
They had left the battle as quickly as possible, but their leaving had been noticed, and they had been hunted. Her officer had been hit, and now they were here, hunkered down, waiting. She had been told to keep an eye out, so she was, but Javelin had no idea how they were going to get out of this. But she was just a scout, it wasn’t her problem.
Behind her, a cough, and the officer spoke, “Scout.”
Javelin turned, peering back at the officer.
He was a fair bit taller than she was, a light green. Low-ranking, but intent on doing his job to the best of his ability. He sat in a growing puddle of his own fluids, his optics already paler and dimmer than they had been a short while ago. She knew that was a very bad sign, but said nothing.
There was nothing to be said.
Another cough, and the officer held out the datapad to her. It was small and sleek, but well made, heavily armoured and protected, the kind used on the battlefields.
Not sure what was going on, Javelin took the datapad, peering at it.
“Take this to the nearest Autobot base you find. I’ve ... written out what happened, that we need reinforcements, and given my authority. Coordinates. Everything. Its triple encrypted, but don’t let it fall into Decepticon hands.”
Javelin blinked, a shuttering of her optics, “O-Of course, sir, but what about you?”
He gave a weak laugh, “Me? I’m done for, Scout. Leaking like a boat on the Sea of Rust. You get that to the nearest Command. That’s an order.”
Javelin slowly slipped the datapad into her sub-space, nodding, “I understand, sir. Is there...anything you want from me before I go?”
He grinned, energon coating his dental plates, “No. I have my pistol. I’ll make sure they don’t have a hostage to use...or a victim to torture. You just.....what’s your name, anyway? They never did give it to me.”
“I...I’m Javelin, sir.”
The Officer seemed to find this funny, laughing weakly. Energon and coolant flicked from his mouth slightly, before he grinned at her again, “Well, let’s just hope Primus did make you fast, hey? Go with speed, Javelin. Get our bots out of this damned mess.”
Optics wide, Javelin nodded, “Yes sir. I’ll do everything I can.”
She turned, approaching the wall again. Slipping her bow back onto her back, locking it in place with the magnets there, she accessed her inner CPS* to call up the closest Autobot base.
The closest one....wasn’t that close.
But if she could get out of this area, the rest was uncontested, and it would be faster going. The damage away from this area wasn’t quite as bad, and she could get into her alt mode.
Cautiously making sure the coast was clear, she took one last look back at her officer...the officer she had been serving under for the last few orns. She gave a quick salute, then slipped out, leaving behind the safety of the shelter.
Javelin wasn’t a messenger. Before the war, she had been an energon scout, and once the war broke out, she had pretty much remained as energon scout. She had been trained for other things as well, including recon. But as a scout, she was called on to do whatever was needed at the time. She had run messages before, just never...in such dire circumstances.
Not a frontliner, Javelin wasn’t often right in the middle of battle, and she had never been alone. There had almost always been a heavy hitter paired with her. And while she had put on a good face for her officer, she was utterly terrified. She wasn’t really a soldier. What she did know about battle could be written on one page. The only chance she had, was that she did know was sneaking around.
Cautiously, she made her way from shelter to shelter, always keeping crouched. Every so many moves, and she would pause, listening. For voices. The sounds of battle. Anything.
Not long after she left her officer behind, she heard loud, angry voices, echoing from that area. Curses, cruel laughter.
A pained scream.
She hunched, trembling. A part of her screamed to go back, to help him. He was injured, he was hurt, they’d kill him.
Another part ordered her to get down as low as she could and not move. She was no warrior. She couldn’t punch anyone into submission. She didn’t even have any sort of pistol or rifle. If there were more than two, she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Bows were slow, and even though she had a very fast draw and release, she’d be hit before taking out more than two.
She also had some hand-to-hand, mostly taught to be able to knock down opponents in order to be able to run away. Her hits wouldn’t do much damage, other than disorient for a few minutes.
A third voice, the harder, colder one that had grown within her during the war, told her she had a job to do. Going back to save her officer would get herself killed, and as a result of that? No help would come for the other Autobots still fighting overwhelming forces. They would all die too.
She prepared to go, to keep moving, when suddenly the sound of a single pistol shot run out, and then silence. Her body froze for a second, optics wide, before her face became a still mask.
Gathering herself, she moved on.
She was being hunted.
A short time later, she realized she was being followed. She could just make them out as she made her way along the ruined streets of Cybertron. Their forms, dark shadows seen now and then through the smoke , appearing and disappearing like wraiths. She thought it was just one, and they were keeping their distance. Just tailing her. But soon she began to see another.
There were two.
And getting closer.
Out here the damage to the city wasn’t as thick, but the ground was still ripped up. The smell of scorch wasn’t as thick, nor was the air tainted with the scent of old energon.
Speeding up as best as she could – a difficult task due to the ruined streets, Javelin tried to keep just out of sight of her pursuers. If they couldn’t see where she was going, they’d have to spend a little time searching for her. Time she could use.
Scuttling from one ruined building towards another, Javelin heard, in the distance, the sound of the rifle firing before the ground before her erupted in an explosion of dust and metal chips.
Oh scrap oh scrap oh scrap.
Abandoning caution and stealth now, Javelin lunged behind the closest wall she could find, putting it between herself and the enemy, and started to run.
Her peds clacked loudly on the ruined street as she bolted, trying to remain as crouched as possible. Every step she took, she kept expecting to feel the shot that took off her head, or crashed into her chassis, extinguishing her spark with one, good, hit.
Behind her, the sounds of pursuit.
Javelin flew over the uneven terrain, leaping chunks of fallen building, darting around broken street lights that had fallen, or lay at broken angles.
Her pump was pounding as she flew, vaulting obstacles in one lunge, always trying to keep something, anything, between her and those chasing her. Around her, there would be the crack of a shot striking a wall, a puff of dust in front of her as another struck the ground. She dodged and twisted as she ran, trying to keep from any pattern, nothing that could be followed or tracked.
Keep moving. Always keep moving. Moving targets were always the hardest to hit, even by experts.
Her vents sucked air as she moved, drawing in great whooshes of air and often dust as she ran, her inner core overheating and demanding to be cooled. But she couldn’t stop. To stop was to die. To stop was to let all those Autobots in battle die.
She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that.
She flew over a cracked and swaying bridge.
Behind her, she suddenly heard the familiar sound of transformation, and she risked a look over a shoulder.
Her pursuers had transformed, being larger vehicles with more space beneath their undercarriage. The uneven ground here would be too hard in her alt mode, but they were dealing with it just fine.
A loud roar as they closed in on her.
Desperate, she suddenly turned, planning her peds hard, and angled towards the edge of the bridge. She recognised where she was, and only prayed nothing had changed since the last time she had been this way.
Behind her, the Decepticons opened fire, hoping to stop her before she made her move.
One running step, two, then one ped planted up on the ledge running along the side of the bridge.
One step.
A lunge, and she was freefalling.
Javelin leapt from the bridge both arms out before her, optics scanning the area below as she fell. Behind her, she heard the Decepticons curse, slamming on their brakes as they skidded to a halt.
Her hands reached, fingers wide.
The thick cable slapped into her palms, and she grabbed, latching onto it with the grip of dying mecha.
She plummeted, but her outward arc was slowed as the heavy cable, remnants of a ruined and broken crane on a nearby building. Her falling speed began to slow. The cable slid through her hands, friction heating quickly , burning. Her legs and peds swung outward as she spun, still falling. Javelin grunted in pain as her weight and speed of her fall caught up to her, to her hands as he clung to the cable. She angled downwards, like a great spider on a thread, her elbows and wrists screaming pain. A small gear in her left elbow shattered, and she bit down on a lip plate to keep from shrieking as sparks spat from the joint, a thin trickle of energon dripping outward.
Her grip compromised, her hold weakened, and although she scrabbled, she lost her hold, and fell.
Legs kicking, she had only a few seconds of terror before she impacted with the street below with a heavy thud.
-Warning Warning-
Alarms rang in her helm as red runes and glyphs slid across her vision; the damage report coming in after she hit. Her head ached, throbbing as the warnings demanded attention. Her left elbow screamed in pain still.
Javelin sat up slowly, dizzy and dazed. She silenced the alarms demanding attention; nothing she was reading indicated she had been too badly hurt, except for the elbow, and that would have to wait.
Javelin looked up at the bridge above her, a part of her amazed she had actually survived such a crazy stunt.
No time to hang around. Fight is still going on...
She staggered upright, shaking her helm slightly to try and clear the warnings. Eventually her HUD cleared, and she started walking towards the Autobot base she knew was out there. Hopefully, she’d be closer now to-
Vehicles, approaching.
Alarmed, Javelin spun, looking behind her. Surely the Decepticons hadn’t come down here? Although, they likely thought her dead, and if her Officer had told them what she carried...
She turned, and started running again, staggering several steps somewhat lopsidedly before managing to right herself. Her system ached, though. It wanted her to stop and repair after hitting the ground, but she shook it off. Her elbow, still occasionally spitting unhappy sparks and dribbling energon, she ignored. Never good at shutting down damaged circuits to stop pain, Javelin did her best to ignore it.
She clutched her elbow as she ran, the impact of her peds striking the ground jarring and rattling the damaged gears, causing more sparks to shoot. Her dental plates were clenched together.
Javelin launched herself over a large fallen hunk of metal, leaving a light spattering of energon as she went, and within a few steps, blissful, unbroken road.
Her elbow complained bitterly as she folded herself into her alt-mode, but it went, and now, off her actual peds, new systems took up the burden of motion.
Her engine roared to life as she streaked out onto the somewhat tilted causeway, wheels gripping the metallic road easily.
Behind her, a loud crash, and suddenly, her pursuers were there, the two of them, bearing down on her. As her system swept the area around her, she saw/sensed them opening hatches, and weapons rising out. There was a pause, and suddenly rifles rattled to life.
Javelin jerked to the side, yelping in surprise as the road to her right erupted in a spray of debris and shrapnel.
Can’t I get a break, Primus!?
She moved back towards the center of the path, dividing her attention between the road ahead, and her pursuers. If she could just hold them off until she got close enough to the base, the automatic defences would keep them off her.
Steeling herself, Javelin opened her accelerator and floored it.
Hurtling down the pathway, she continually scanned ahead for holes, and behind, for attacks. Each rocket, each bullet fired towards her, she slipped to one side or another. Darting wildly across the road, she hugged the curves as tightly as possible. Her alt-mode was smallish and quick, and she had every vent open to draw air to keep her core cool. Around her, objects blasted past in a blur of dull color and destruction.
A smallish rocket flared by her right, striking the road before her. A desperate swerve, and Javelin found herself in an out of control spin. She struck a railing, bouncing painfully off, and losing some of the distance between herself and the Decepticons behind her. Sparks flew, the screech of metal against metal.
No no no no no no no.
They were too close. There was no way she was going to outrun them now, unless she could....
Angling back onto the road, sinking herself down into her flight from the Decepticons again, her speed increasing with a roar of her engine.
One shot at this, one chance.
She had been here before, and was used to the area. She knew there was an old system near here. If she could just reach it....and if it still worked.
Streaking forward at top speed, Javelin suddenly made a right hand turn, drifting around the corner, wheels fighting to stay in contact with the road. Behind her, the Decepticons were still gaining. The ground she had lost while recovering from her hit had not been regained, and they closed in on her.
Javelin hit the exit ramp hard, wheels literally leaving the roar for a few minutes, fighting not to overturn in the road. If she did, that was it. It was over. For her, and the Autobots still fighting. She flew a short distance, landing hard, undercarriage striking the road, sparks flying. She grunted in pain.
Almost, almost there....a little longer, Primus.
Now she angled outwards, leaving the main road behind, blasting away from the main causeway of the city. Behind her, mocking laughter, “Run as far as you want, little Autobot! We’ll get you, and we’ll pull your arms and legs off before we kill you!”
She said nothing, concentrating only on where she was going.
There!
Just ahead, was a light pole, with strange black markings on it. Javelin almost wept with joy when she saw it. The marks were still standing.
Another sharp turn, and then there was another light pole, same black markings. And a short distance from that, a third.
Here the road straightened out, running a nice straight line, shooting out towards the city’s skyline in the distance, turning into a bridge over what was once a beautiful lake, stretching almost from horizon to horizon. Now it arched over an empty plane, choked with debris and remnants of the war. The city was much too far to reach, but it wasn’t the city proper Javelin needed. It was just this, just this one stretch.
As she rocketed into the straightaway, passing one black-marked light pole, she began to count.
Three nano-kliks between the first and second pole...and three between the second and third.
Perfect.
A deep sense of satisfaction settled into her spark. This...this was home. She had been doing this for so long, so many vorns ago she would do this, testing herself. Her officers had berated her for it, but oh it was so satisfying.
Passing the third light pole, Javelin opened her throttle to full, engine screaming. Her lights flashed in a staccato of bursts, flicking a strange pattern of light into what appeared to be empty air.
Only it wasn’t empty.
An old, almost hidden reflective plate sunk into the third light pole caught the lights, read the pattern.
Suddenly, with an old groan, a system woke up.
Plates beneath the bridge she now flew over shuddered, rust and dirt flaking off and falling into the void below. Javelin could feel the vibrations in her wheels. The sides of the bridge rose, rising skyward until they almost enclosed the bridge.
Time to shake Primus’ Hand.
Far in front of her, int he distance, a massive pedestal seemed to rise from the ground itself, coated in rust and dirt, brown and grey. It rose straight into the air, like an angry finger, pointing at the sky. Clouds of dust formed around it, almost enclosing it in a brown mist.
The pedestal slowed to a halt, towering far above the bridge the three Cybertronians rocketed across, coming to a stop so loudly it was felt as much as it was heard. The top third of the tower seemed to separate from the bottom, rising up on a much thinner pole, then suddenly swinging horizontally, the top angling downwards to level out. The entire tower turned, what once the tip now was pointing straight at the bridge.
A pulsing wave shot out from the odd machine, scanning the area. It swept over the Autobot and Decepticon alike, and suddenly, it’s tracking system locked on.
It started to glow.
Javelin continued blasting across the bridge. Behind her, she could hear the Decepticons talking to each other, confused. They argued about whether or not to turn back, but she knew it was pointless now. They were trapped on the bridge, and the Hand of Primus was gathering energy. They were trapped....and so was she.
She continued counting the seconds between each oddly marked light pole, keeping a tally in her head. Three. There had to be exactly three nano-kliks between each. It was the only way to survive.
With a sudden, loud retort, a heavy groaning, shattering roar, the weapon fired.
The laser shot from the end of the barrel, streaking across the air, and hitting the bridge directly behind the Decepticons. The impact caused the bridge to shudder violently. The three Cybertronians were staggered, but Javelin kept to her speed, intense concentration on the timing as she continued to streak towards the end of the bridge that was quickly starting to move towards them. The road curved downwards, then up into a dead end, sudden and swift. And it was getting closer with each second.
The laser began to sweep along the bridge, now closing in on the Decepticons still barrelling behind Javelin. Anything they were saying were lost to the scout as the sound of the laser overrode all other sound, just a heavy, world-shattering roar as it approached.
Within seconds, the laser swept over the Decepticons, obliterating them instantly, turning them into nothing more than dust and regret. Only two black, oily spots remained on the bridge as the laser swept over the area they had been.
And was closing in on Javelin.
Vents open to full, everything else tucked tightly against her frame to reduce as much drag as possible, Javelin now stopped counting the seconds. The timing was done. The next part was coming, and coming fast. And she knew the laser was just speeding up as well, now flying behind her.
Feeling heat starting to bite at her back bumper, Javelin threw everything else away, and rode it out.
The road dipped suddenly as she headed down into the drop, then curved upwards, towards the sky, a tall wall at the end. As Javelin rose with the road, she gave it one last hit of speed, and launched herself into the air.
She left the bridge behind, feeling the heat as the Hand of Primus passed beneath her.
Transforming, Javelin reached out, her servos reaching, fingers spreading as metal memory reached for a bar she prayed was still there after all this time.
It was.
The bar, mounted to the side of a tower, slapped into her hands, and she let the force of her moving through the air spin her around, up and over. She twisted, legs stretching, peds reaching, everything topsy turvy around her, ruined buildings and surroundings spinning around and beneath her....and suddenly her peds hit a solid surface.
She slid backwards, metal screeching, sparks flying, as she slid across the top of a building, feet leaving tracks in the old paint. The area was marked with a thousand similar long gouges, silent testament to how many time this very same action had been done before.
Slowing, screeching to a halt, Javelin came to a stop, and sank to her knees. Her vents gasped and whooshed as her core demanded air to cool seriously overheated systems. She grinned. She had shaken the Hand of Primus once more.
When she finally cooled down her systems enough she could move on, it was only a few minutes before she heard running footsteps moving towards her. She only had time to grab her bow before figures were heading towards her....all wearing the Autobot badge.
One, a large mech strode towards her, his battered frame making it clear he had seen a lot of battle. The way the others made room for him obviously marked him as the leader.
“What in the name of Unicron’s Rusted Aft were you doing? How did you even know that old defense system worked anymore? The Hand of Primus was made for taking out Decepticon flyers!”
Javelin was removing the datapad from her sub-space, “I’ve been here before, sir. Designation’s Javelin, Scout to the 33rd. We’re pinned down, sir, and need reinforcements. This is from my officer. He was slain as we attempted to get out.”
The mech before her took the datapad, and read it. He grunted, then turned to one of the others behind him, “See she’s fuelled and given rest. Get the lines open to the base, I’m calling in a strike.”
He turned to walk off, then paused, looking back at her for a second, “You did ok, Scout. But don’t try anything like that again.”
He turned, walking off to disappear into the group of his men, barking orders.
Javelin watched him go, tired, hurting, and exhausted.
My designation is Javelin, she thought. Then sighed.
Who was she kidding? She was just a scout.
(end)
The battle was going badly.
Javelin crouched behind the remains of a wall. Once part of a tall, beautiful building, it was now little more than a divider not much taller than she was when standing. Remains of gold trim and beautiful white metal was now scorched and blackened. War had left its mark here, as much as everywhere else.
Her bow was clutched tightly in a hand, as she peered out around the corner of the wall. Her view was that of a long street, ruined buildings and towers on either side. Rubble had fallen into the streets, blocking the road. It was now a treacherous pathway for anyone trying to navigate.
Smoke covered most of the area, drifting in and out with vague currents of air raised by the heat of the nearby battlefield. Explosions in the distance, crashes and booms. Periodic pops of gunfire could be heard. The air stank of scorch and burn, the scent of spilled energon, overheated metal, burned inner fluids.
Behind her, her superior officer sat on the ground, legs spread out before him, clutching a datapad in his servos, frantically typing. He grimaced against a large wound in his chest, steadily leaking energon.
She kept an eye out, one hand on the energy string of her bow, ready to aim and shoot should a Decepticon appear.
The battle hadn’t gone well.
They had gone into a fight on bad info. Either faulty, or intentionally incorrect. Now the Autobots were pinned down. The actual fight was taking place a short distance from where Javelin and the Officer waited. The city, already destroyed long before, was no stranger to battle.
Her officer had been trying to get back, to get reinforcement for the trapped Autobots. The battle had moved, and they were no longer where they were supposed to be. A scrambler probe had been deployed, and no radio transmissions were getting in or out. There were no carriers who could try to send their cassettes in. They were pinned down, with no way to signal for help by any of the usual methods. So it was down to a lower ranking Officer, and a single scout.
They had left the battle as quickly as possible, but their leaving had been noticed, and they had been hunted. Her officer had been hit, and now they were here, hunkered down, waiting. She had been told to keep an eye out, so she was, but Javelin had no idea how they were going to get out of this. But she was just a scout, it wasn’t her problem.
Behind her, a cough, and the officer spoke, “Scout.”
Javelin turned, peering back at the officer.
He was a fair bit taller than she was, a light green. Low-ranking, but intent on doing his job to the best of his ability. He sat in a growing puddle of his own fluids, his optics already paler and dimmer than they had been a short while ago. She knew that was a very bad sign, but said nothing.
There was nothing to be said.
Another cough, and the officer held out the datapad to her. It was small and sleek, but well made, heavily armoured and protected, the kind used on the battlefields.
Not sure what was going on, Javelin took the datapad, peering at it.
“Take this to the nearest Autobot base you find. I’ve ... written out what happened, that we need reinforcements, and given my authority. Coordinates. Everything. Its triple encrypted, but don’t let it fall into Decepticon hands.”
Javelin blinked, a shuttering of her optics, “O-Of course, sir, but what about you?”
He gave a weak laugh, “Me? I’m done for, Scout. Leaking like a boat on the Sea of Rust. You get that to the nearest Command. That’s an order.”
Javelin slowly slipped the datapad into her sub-space, nodding, “I understand, sir. Is there...anything you want from me before I go?”
He grinned, energon coating his dental plates, “No. I have my pistol. I’ll make sure they don’t have a hostage to use...or a victim to torture. You just.....what’s your name, anyway? They never did give it to me.”
“I...I’m Javelin, sir.”
The Officer seemed to find this funny, laughing weakly. Energon and coolant flicked from his mouth slightly, before he grinned at her again, “Well, let’s just hope Primus did make you fast, hey? Go with speed, Javelin. Get our bots out of this damned mess.”
Optics wide, Javelin nodded, “Yes sir. I’ll do everything I can.”
She turned, approaching the wall again. Slipping her bow back onto her back, locking it in place with the magnets there, she accessed her inner CPS* to call up the closest Autobot base.
The closest one....wasn’t that close.
But if she could get out of this area, the rest was uncontested, and it would be faster going. The damage away from this area wasn’t quite as bad, and she could get into her alt mode.
Cautiously making sure the coast was clear, she took one last look back at her officer...the officer she had been serving under for the last few orns. She gave a quick salute, then slipped out, leaving behind the safety of the shelter.
Javelin wasn’t a messenger. Before the war, she had been an energon scout, and once the war broke out, she had pretty much remained as energon scout. She had been trained for other things as well, including recon. But as a scout, she was called on to do whatever was needed at the time. She had run messages before, just never...in such dire circumstances.
Not a frontliner, Javelin wasn’t often right in the middle of battle, and she had never been alone. There had almost always been a heavy hitter paired with her. And while she had put on a good face for her officer, she was utterly terrified. She wasn’t really a soldier. What she did know about battle could be written on one page. The only chance she had, was that she did know was sneaking around.
Cautiously, she made her way from shelter to shelter, always keeping crouched. Every so many moves, and she would pause, listening. For voices. The sounds of battle. Anything.
Not long after she left her officer behind, she heard loud, angry voices, echoing from that area. Curses, cruel laughter.
A pained scream.
She hunched, trembling. A part of her screamed to go back, to help him. He was injured, he was hurt, they’d kill him.
Another part ordered her to get down as low as she could and not move. She was no warrior. She couldn’t punch anyone into submission. She didn’t even have any sort of pistol or rifle. If there were more than two, she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Bows were slow, and even though she had a very fast draw and release, she’d be hit before taking out more than two.
She also had some hand-to-hand, mostly taught to be able to knock down opponents in order to be able to run away. Her hits wouldn’t do much damage, other than disorient for a few minutes.
A third voice, the harder, colder one that had grown within her during the war, told her she had a job to do. Going back to save her officer would get herself killed, and as a result of that? No help would come for the other Autobots still fighting overwhelming forces. They would all die too.
She prepared to go, to keep moving, when suddenly the sound of a single pistol shot run out, and then silence. Her body froze for a second, optics wide, before her face became a still mask.
Gathering herself, she moved on.
She was being hunted.
A short time later, she realized she was being followed. She could just make them out as she made her way along the ruined streets of Cybertron. Their forms, dark shadows seen now and then through the smoke , appearing and disappearing like wraiths. She thought it was just one, and they were keeping their distance. Just tailing her. But soon she began to see another.
There were two.
And getting closer.
Out here the damage to the city wasn’t as thick, but the ground was still ripped up. The smell of scorch wasn’t as thick, nor was the air tainted with the scent of old energon.
Speeding up as best as she could – a difficult task due to the ruined streets, Javelin tried to keep just out of sight of her pursuers. If they couldn’t see where she was going, they’d have to spend a little time searching for her. Time she could use.
Scuttling from one ruined building towards another, Javelin heard, in the distance, the sound of the rifle firing before the ground before her erupted in an explosion of dust and metal chips.
Oh scrap oh scrap oh scrap.
Abandoning caution and stealth now, Javelin lunged behind the closest wall she could find, putting it between herself and the enemy, and started to run.
Her peds clacked loudly on the ruined street as she bolted, trying to remain as crouched as possible. Every step she took, she kept expecting to feel the shot that took off her head, or crashed into her chassis, extinguishing her spark with one, good, hit.
Behind her, the sounds of pursuit.
Javelin flew over the uneven terrain, leaping chunks of fallen building, darting around broken street lights that had fallen, or lay at broken angles.
Her pump was pounding as she flew, vaulting obstacles in one lunge, always trying to keep something, anything, between her and those chasing her. Around her, there would be the crack of a shot striking a wall, a puff of dust in front of her as another struck the ground. She dodged and twisted as she ran, trying to keep from any pattern, nothing that could be followed or tracked.
Keep moving. Always keep moving. Moving targets were always the hardest to hit, even by experts.
Her vents sucked air as she moved, drawing in great whooshes of air and often dust as she ran, her inner core overheating and demanding to be cooled. But she couldn’t stop. To stop was to die. To stop was to let all those Autobots in battle die.
She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that.
She flew over a cracked and swaying bridge.
Behind her, she suddenly heard the familiar sound of transformation, and she risked a look over a shoulder.
Her pursuers had transformed, being larger vehicles with more space beneath their undercarriage. The uneven ground here would be too hard in her alt mode, but they were dealing with it just fine.
A loud roar as they closed in on her.
Desperate, she suddenly turned, planning her peds hard, and angled towards the edge of the bridge. She recognised where she was, and only prayed nothing had changed since the last time she had been this way.
Behind her, the Decepticons opened fire, hoping to stop her before she made her move.
One running step, two, then one ped planted up on the ledge running along the side of the bridge.
One step.
A lunge, and she was freefalling.
Javelin leapt from the bridge both arms out before her, optics scanning the area below as she fell. Behind her, she heard the Decepticons curse, slamming on their brakes as they skidded to a halt.
Her hands reached, fingers wide.
The thick cable slapped into her palms, and she grabbed, latching onto it with the grip of dying mecha.
She plummeted, but her outward arc was slowed as the heavy cable, remnants of a ruined and broken crane on a nearby building. Her falling speed began to slow. The cable slid through her hands, friction heating quickly , burning. Her legs and peds swung outward as she spun, still falling. Javelin grunted in pain as her weight and speed of her fall caught up to her, to her hands as he clung to the cable. She angled downwards, like a great spider on a thread, her elbows and wrists screaming pain. A small gear in her left elbow shattered, and she bit down on a lip plate to keep from shrieking as sparks spat from the joint, a thin trickle of energon dripping outward.
Her grip compromised, her hold weakened, and although she scrabbled, she lost her hold, and fell.
Legs kicking, she had only a few seconds of terror before she impacted with the street below with a heavy thud.
-Warning Warning-
Alarms rang in her helm as red runes and glyphs slid across her vision; the damage report coming in after she hit. Her head ached, throbbing as the warnings demanded attention. Her left elbow screamed in pain still.
Javelin sat up slowly, dizzy and dazed. She silenced the alarms demanding attention; nothing she was reading indicated she had been too badly hurt, except for the elbow, and that would have to wait.
Javelin looked up at the bridge above her, a part of her amazed she had actually survived such a crazy stunt.
No time to hang around. Fight is still going on...
She staggered upright, shaking her helm slightly to try and clear the warnings. Eventually her HUD cleared, and she started walking towards the Autobot base she knew was out there. Hopefully, she’d be closer now to-
Vehicles, approaching.
Alarmed, Javelin spun, looking behind her. Surely the Decepticons hadn’t come down here? Although, they likely thought her dead, and if her Officer had told them what she carried...
She turned, and started running again, staggering several steps somewhat lopsidedly before managing to right herself. Her system ached, though. It wanted her to stop and repair after hitting the ground, but she shook it off. Her elbow, still occasionally spitting unhappy sparks and dribbling energon, she ignored. Never good at shutting down damaged circuits to stop pain, Javelin did her best to ignore it.
She clutched her elbow as she ran, the impact of her peds striking the ground jarring and rattling the damaged gears, causing more sparks to shoot. Her dental plates were clenched together.
Javelin launched herself over a large fallen hunk of metal, leaving a light spattering of energon as she went, and within a few steps, blissful, unbroken road.
Her elbow complained bitterly as she folded herself into her alt-mode, but it went, and now, off her actual peds, new systems took up the burden of motion.
Her engine roared to life as she streaked out onto the somewhat tilted causeway, wheels gripping the metallic road easily.
Behind her, a loud crash, and suddenly, her pursuers were there, the two of them, bearing down on her. As her system swept the area around her, she saw/sensed them opening hatches, and weapons rising out. There was a pause, and suddenly rifles rattled to life.
Javelin jerked to the side, yelping in surprise as the road to her right erupted in a spray of debris and shrapnel.
Can’t I get a break, Primus!?
She moved back towards the center of the path, dividing her attention between the road ahead, and her pursuers. If she could just hold them off until she got close enough to the base, the automatic defences would keep them off her.
Steeling herself, Javelin opened her accelerator and floored it.
Hurtling down the pathway, she continually scanned ahead for holes, and behind, for attacks. Each rocket, each bullet fired towards her, she slipped to one side or another. Darting wildly across the road, she hugged the curves as tightly as possible. Her alt-mode was smallish and quick, and she had every vent open to draw air to keep her core cool. Around her, objects blasted past in a blur of dull color and destruction.
A smallish rocket flared by her right, striking the road before her. A desperate swerve, and Javelin found herself in an out of control spin. She struck a railing, bouncing painfully off, and losing some of the distance between herself and the Decepticons behind her. Sparks flew, the screech of metal against metal.
No no no no no no no.
They were too close. There was no way she was going to outrun them now, unless she could....
Angling back onto the road, sinking herself down into her flight from the Decepticons again, her speed increasing with a roar of her engine.
One shot at this, one chance.
She had been here before, and was used to the area. She knew there was an old system near here. If she could just reach it....and if it still worked.
Streaking forward at top speed, Javelin suddenly made a right hand turn, drifting around the corner, wheels fighting to stay in contact with the road. Behind her, the Decepticons were still gaining. The ground she had lost while recovering from her hit had not been regained, and they closed in on her.
Javelin hit the exit ramp hard, wheels literally leaving the roar for a few minutes, fighting not to overturn in the road. If she did, that was it. It was over. For her, and the Autobots still fighting. She flew a short distance, landing hard, undercarriage striking the road, sparks flying. She grunted in pain.
Almost, almost there....a little longer, Primus.
Now she angled outwards, leaving the main road behind, blasting away from the main causeway of the city. Behind her, mocking laughter, “Run as far as you want, little Autobot! We’ll get you, and we’ll pull your arms and legs off before we kill you!”
She said nothing, concentrating only on where she was going.
There!
Just ahead, was a light pole, with strange black markings on it. Javelin almost wept with joy when she saw it. The marks were still standing.
Another sharp turn, and then there was another light pole, same black markings. And a short distance from that, a third.
Here the road straightened out, running a nice straight line, shooting out towards the city’s skyline in the distance, turning into a bridge over what was once a beautiful lake, stretching almost from horizon to horizon. Now it arched over an empty plane, choked with debris and remnants of the war. The city was much too far to reach, but it wasn’t the city proper Javelin needed. It was just this, just this one stretch.
As she rocketed into the straightaway, passing one black-marked light pole, she began to count.
Three nano-kliks between the first and second pole...and three between the second and third.
Perfect.
A deep sense of satisfaction settled into her spark. This...this was home. She had been doing this for so long, so many vorns ago she would do this, testing herself. Her officers had berated her for it, but oh it was so satisfying.
Passing the third light pole, Javelin opened her throttle to full, engine screaming. Her lights flashed in a staccato of bursts, flicking a strange pattern of light into what appeared to be empty air.
Only it wasn’t empty.
An old, almost hidden reflective plate sunk into the third light pole caught the lights, read the pattern.
Suddenly, with an old groan, a system woke up.
Plates beneath the bridge she now flew over shuddered, rust and dirt flaking off and falling into the void below. Javelin could feel the vibrations in her wheels. The sides of the bridge rose, rising skyward until they almost enclosed the bridge.
Time to shake Primus’ Hand.
Far in front of her, int he distance, a massive pedestal seemed to rise from the ground itself, coated in rust and dirt, brown and grey. It rose straight into the air, like an angry finger, pointing at the sky. Clouds of dust formed around it, almost enclosing it in a brown mist.
The pedestal slowed to a halt, towering far above the bridge the three Cybertronians rocketed across, coming to a stop so loudly it was felt as much as it was heard. The top third of the tower seemed to separate from the bottom, rising up on a much thinner pole, then suddenly swinging horizontally, the top angling downwards to level out. The entire tower turned, what once the tip now was pointing straight at the bridge.
A pulsing wave shot out from the odd machine, scanning the area. It swept over the Autobot and Decepticon alike, and suddenly, it’s tracking system locked on.
It started to glow.
Javelin continued blasting across the bridge. Behind her, she could hear the Decepticons talking to each other, confused. They argued about whether or not to turn back, but she knew it was pointless now. They were trapped on the bridge, and the Hand of Primus was gathering energy. They were trapped....and so was she.
She continued counting the seconds between each oddly marked light pole, keeping a tally in her head. Three. There had to be exactly three nano-kliks between each. It was the only way to survive.
With a sudden, loud retort, a heavy groaning, shattering roar, the weapon fired.
The laser shot from the end of the barrel, streaking across the air, and hitting the bridge directly behind the Decepticons. The impact caused the bridge to shudder violently. The three Cybertronians were staggered, but Javelin kept to her speed, intense concentration on the timing as she continued to streak towards the end of the bridge that was quickly starting to move towards them. The road curved downwards, then up into a dead end, sudden and swift. And it was getting closer with each second.
The laser began to sweep along the bridge, now closing in on the Decepticons still barrelling behind Javelin. Anything they were saying were lost to the scout as the sound of the laser overrode all other sound, just a heavy, world-shattering roar as it approached.
Within seconds, the laser swept over the Decepticons, obliterating them instantly, turning them into nothing more than dust and regret. Only two black, oily spots remained on the bridge as the laser swept over the area they had been.
And was closing in on Javelin.
Vents open to full, everything else tucked tightly against her frame to reduce as much drag as possible, Javelin now stopped counting the seconds. The timing was done. The next part was coming, and coming fast. And she knew the laser was just speeding up as well, now flying behind her.
Feeling heat starting to bite at her back bumper, Javelin threw everything else away, and rode it out.
The road dipped suddenly as she headed down into the drop, then curved upwards, towards the sky, a tall wall at the end. As Javelin rose with the road, she gave it one last hit of speed, and launched herself into the air.
She left the bridge behind, feeling the heat as the Hand of Primus passed beneath her.
Transforming, Javelin reached out, her servos reaching, fingers spreading as metal memory reached for a bar she prayed was still there after all this time.
It was.
The bar, mounted to the side of a tower, slapped into her hands, and she let the force of her moving through the air spin her around, up and over. She twisted, legs stretching, peds reaching, everything topsy turvy around her, ruined buildings and surroundings spinning around and beneath her....and suddenly her peds hit a solid surface.
She slid backwards, metal screeching, sparks flying, as she slid across the top of a building, feet leaving tracks in the old paint. The area was marked with a thousand similar long gouges, silent testament to how many time this very same action had been done before.
Slowing, screeching to a halt, Javelin came to a stop, and sank to her knees. Her vents gasped and whooshed as her core demanded air to cool seriously overheated systems. She grinned. She had shaken the Hand of Primus once more.
When she finally cooled down her systems enough she could move on, it was only a few minutes before she heard running footsteps moving towards her. She only had time to grab her bow before figures were heading towards her....all wearing the Autobot badge.
One, a large mech strode towards her, his battered frame making it clear he had seen a lot of battle. The way the others made room for him obviously marked him as the leader.
“What in the name of Unicron’s Rusted Aft were you doing? How did you even know that old defense system worked anymore? The Hand of Primus was made for taking out Decepticon flyers!”
Javelin was removing the datapad from her sub-space, “I’ve been here before, sir. Designation’s Javelin, Scout to the 33rd. We’re pinned down, sir, and need reinforcements. This is from my officer. He was slain as we attempted to get out.”
The mech before her took the datapad, and read it. He grunted, then turned to one of the others behind him, “See she’s fuelled and given rest. Get the lines open to the base, I’m calling in a strike.”
He turned to walk off, then paused, looking back at her for a second, “You did ok, Scout. But don’t try anything like that again.”
He turned, walking off to disappear into the group of his men, barking orders.
Javelin watched him go, tired, hurting, and exhausted.
My designation is Javelin, she thought. Then sighed.
Who was she kidding? She was just a scout.
(end)