If anything, this Autobot at least didn’t know his reputation within the Decepticons as one of the poorest shots in the army. Firing only out of anger, nearly every shot missed its mark. Finally realizing this, Thundercracker lowered his rifle, watching the mech attempt to regain his composure.
This was getting absolutely ridiculous; all that this Autobot had to do was sit quietly while he downloaded what he needed from their server! Originally, he had been ordered to blow the system, but doing that would have been dangerous to both the data he was supposed to be carrying, and his own life. It would have been a complete waste, which he had attempted to relay to his superiors. Now, the entire mission was at risk because one little broken technician decided to play hero.
And then began firing at him.
The Seeker squawked loudly, jumping around the shots as they came. While apparently a better shot than him, the Autobot still couldn’t do more than scuff his pedes. At least those missiles weren’t being brought into the situation. He growled to himself, attempting to put the tech’s chair between himself and the injured mech’s wild fire. Now, things were beyond the point of being ridiculous—the download should have been close to finishing by that point, he reasoned. Now was the time to throw one last punch and get out of there.
There was one problem with his assessment, however: he didn’t think a single punch could take down a mech of that size. While slightly smaller than him, the grounder was obviously a tougher build. It would take something with a bit more power to incapacitate him long enough to grab the drive and run. As Thundercracker quickly ran through his options, he knew that the power was within him. He raised a servo in front of himself, clenching it into a fist. Ripples of electricity crackled over the appendage, his internal generators slowly beginning to power up. Using his Primus-given ability could prove dangerous if he used too much of it, potentially knocking himself out, but right now, it was the only way he could see out of this.
Moving quickly, Thundercracker leaped from behind the chair and held his fist aloft for the technician to see. The generators within him began whirling loudly, his EM field bristling with excess static. “ALRIGHT, AMIGO, YOU WANNA PLAY ROUGH? LET’S PLAY ROUGH.”
With a not-so-mighty shout, the Seeker charged forward, a partially-charged fist aiming straight for the technician’s chassis.
That would be a lightning fist of death, going straight for him. This would end badly. And it did. He was slammed into the wall creating a massive dent. The electricity coursed through him momentarily paralyzing him, and forcing him to collapse onto the floor.
He offlined his optics thinking that he was finally finished, and that this Decepticon was going to finish him. When the punishment was never dealt, he onlined his optics and looked up at the seeker. He hadn’t moved hardly at all since he delivered the punch. Looks like that attack could work both ways.
Knowing that it wouldn’t last forever, Scattorshot began to crawl to the terminal, his body aching all over. He had to alert the base though. If he didn’t who knew what could happen? However, with this goal in mind he had completely forgotten about the data drive. He had originally wanting to destroy it, but now his sole focus was warning everyone.
He struggled to stand as he finally reached the terminal. Holding onto the terminal console, he reached forward and slammed his hand on the button. Some of the buttons had a tendency not to work unless slammed, giving Scattorshot a habit of slamming them.
As the alarm blared, Scattorshot smiled to himself, as he slumped back to the floor. He did it. Well…kinda. He briefly pondered how he would explain this one. It was only then that he remembered the data drive, and he quickly looked at the Decepticon as he started coming out of it.
He didn’t think he’d have enough time to hobble over to where the drive was, before the seeker would be able to stop him. So instead, he crouched down and prepared to jump. If he could catch the other off guard, then maybe he could buy some time for help to arrive. it had to be fast though, the damage he had suffered was beginning to effect his energy levels.
If help didn’t arrive soon, then he would probably end up passed out, or if the con so wished, offline.
Well, that definitely had not been what Red Alert was expecting from this film. While their portrayal of alien lifeforms was somewhat hilarious, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that all they seemed to be interested in was the capture of the human race. What, exactly, would that do to benefit their own?
While attempting to pull apart the logistics of the situation, Scattorshot was clambering ever closer, doing all he could to seemingly fuse their frames together. The CMO gently rubbed the technician’s back reassuringly, an odd sort of smile crossing his features in the process. Anything flirtatious had always been difficult for him to pull off, but it finally seemed to be working in his favor. That is, if getting your friend to cling to you as though his lifeforce depended on it counted as flirting.
As the film came to an end, he continued to rub soothing circles on the mech’s back. Glancing over, he said, “Well, that… was a bit different. Are you alright? If you would like, we could always watch something else.”
As the medic spoke to him, embarrassment filled him. That was the second time in a row that he had latched onto the medic for a fictional movie! How less tough could ya get? Embarrassed he slowly let go and sat up.
"Uh…yeah we can watch one more. Maybe we should pick it together, so that we don’t uh…pick somethin’ horrible," he said rubbing his helm, as he stood up. The two of them had made better decisions as a team than they did as individuals.
He reached down and grabbed Red Alert’s hands and pulled him up onto his pedes. He stood there for a while and gazed into Red Alert’s visor, still holding his hands. What a strange feeling he was having. He smiled at the medic before letting go of one hand and pulling the other to guide the mech to the movies.
Scattorshot picked up several and examined them. They didn’t look half bad. After picking a handful he turned to Red Alert and held out the movies.
"Alright Red, pick one. Ya have the final choice!" he said with a smile.
The nanoklik the Autobot had rolled off of him, Thundercracker sprang to his pedes and attempted to examine his dorsal wings. While they ached like the Pit, they seemed to be alright. Considering how much more the tank weighed than him, that was a blessing.
Still, he couldn’t let the little slagger get away with such a thing. Wings were incredibly delicate and intricate systems, and any damage caused could take decacycles to completely heal and repair. Obviously a grounder wouldn’t understand such things— if they lost a wheel or something, it could be replaced within the joor. As he stepped over towards the Autobot in question, he swung his cannon forward, hitting the mech in the side.
"Ferget yer slaggin’ goggles, d’you know how much that fraggin’ HURT?" he growled, smacking the mech a few more times.
There was absolutely no need for the display of power, this Thundercracker knew, but it felt good to let out a bit of frustration. Being a rather poor shot, and knowing they were in such close quarters, he decided to stick with a more physical approach. Firing any weaponry could potentially destroy the server, or potentially bring down the ceiling.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was the technician transforming and attempting to ram him. A loud squawk of fear left the Seeker’s vocoder as he attempted to jump over the oncoming-tank, but it was too late. The Autobot’s cannon snagged his pede, and Thundercracker went toppling over, landing directly on his cockpit behind the mech. Groaning in pain, he attempted to right himself, only to note the large crack in the glass of his cockpit. He hissed from the pain, optics flashing back towards the tank.
"Alright, amigo, you wanna dance? Let’s dance!" From his position on the floor, Thundercracker turned and fired his cannon at the ridiculous little Autobot.
Being a grounder was a very big advantage for when under fire. Autobots alive this far in the war, had learned how to dodge fire easily on the ground. Except Scattorshot. The blast would have missed him, but fear and a miscalculation had driven him right into the blast. Sending him sliding across the floor into a wall.
He transformed into his root form and rubbed his helm. That really hurt. The decepticon was still firing at him, but it was apparent that the mech had bad aim.Some shots came close, but so far aside from the first one, he hadn’t been hit yet.
However guns were now involved. He had to trigger an alarm. However the seeker stood between him and his goal. This was bad. he had to think quickly before he was shot again. He hoped his own arsenal would be enough to at least intimidate the seeker.
He used the wall to lift himself up and aimed his missile rack for the Decepticon. He began to spin his wheels again. The person who gave him all of his weapons said they would shoot, but he wasn’t sure if they would, due to numerous pranks pulled on him. He knew the gun on his wrist would fire, but he wasn’t sure about the tires…a little lie wouldn’t hurt.
Still he had to show he was serious about shooting and began to shoot at the seeker’s feet. Despite his name, he definitely had better aim, but he was still unable to bring himself to try and shoot to kill. He couldn’t do it.
"Sorry, my leg hurts, so why don’t ya dance for yourself!" he retorted still firing.
While it was slightly upsetting to watch Scattorshot move away, he knew it would not be for very long. Red Alert quickly moved from the berth and over to the technician’s odd collection of films. A frown tugged at the edges of his mouth as he perused the library: he recognized absolutely none of these.
"Well, ah… hmm."
Ideally, he wanted to watch something that would gain a similar reaction from his friend. It felt a bit underhanded to admit, but he enjoyed the closeness that had come from it. However, he had absolutely no idea which of these films would allow for that to happen. At random, he pulled a disc from the shelves and looked it over. Apparently, it had something to do with an alien invasion. He chuckled at the irony of it as he strolled back to the berth, inserting the disc as he went by.
"I believe this will do nicely," he said happily, settling back on the berth just where he had been before. "It’s something dealing with the humans’ idea of an alien invasion, or some nonsense. I figured it could be worth a laugh or two." With any luck, he would finally have the technician curled around him once more.
"Aliens huh? We know all about those" he said with chuckle as his friend settled down next to him.
However, this movie was very similar in theme. Humans dying to things that aren’t human. Just as terrifying, but this time with better graphics. Were all movies horror movies? If so he’s just gonna burn all his movies made by humans.
Red picked this one out! If he couldnt tell the difference then who could!? it wasn’t like the medic would pick something that looked scary, intentionally! Or would he?…Noooo not Red. Wing Saber wouldn, but not the medic.
Throughout the duration of the movie, Scattorshot once again held a tight grip on the medic, pleading for comfort, as the movie went on.
This had been his easiest infiltration to date.
Incredibly lax security, mixed with paranoid, recharge-deprived soldiers, meant that Thundercracker had little to worry about in terms of getting caught, or even offlined. Having a weakened Autobot technician within his rifle’s sights made his potential victory that much greater— while he would likely not fire on them, it felt good to hold that sort of power over someone. If anything, he would take the information he needed, tell the mech to have a nice life, and stroll from the base as though nothing had happened.
What he did not expect, however, was for the Autobot to have the gall to grab his cannon. Amber optics snapped from the terminal to the mech in question, his wings flexing with agitation.
"Why you— GAHH!"
A loud squawk forced it’s way from his vocoder as he was awkwardly tackled, his free arm flailing around for something to grip onto for stability. Unfortunately, the only thing in sight, aside from the terminal next to him, were the now-spinning tires upon the technician’s shoulders. And so, he let gravity take hold and toppled backwards— landing directly on his back, and sensitive dorsal wings.
"YOU SLAGGIN’— OW OW OW, GET OFF!”
At this point, the data currently being downloaded was of little importance to the Seeker. Attempting to boost his lower half to relieve the tension on his wings, he began to awkwardly punch at the mech atop of him with his free servo. From this position, however, all he could do was sort of hit the cannons on his back.
"AH SAID MOVE, YA FRAGGIN’ GROUND-POUNDER!” he hissed, forcing a leg up to kick at the Autobot. Again, his moves proved fruitless. There had to be some way to turn this situation around- otherwise, he was scrap.
Continuing his awkward struggles, a thought crossed his processors. His own helm crest protruded out slightly, enough to possibly do a bit of damage. A sly grin crossed his features as he thought, his engine’s rumbles of frustration growing louder.
"HEY, GOGGLES, CHECK THIS OUT!"
Forcing his helm back as far as it would go, he slammed his crest forward, colliding with the top of the Autobot’s helm. Hopefully, it would be enough to daze the mech just long enough for Thundercracker to finally regain control of the incredibly awkward situation.
All he saw was the cons helm come forward swiftly before his world began to spin and turn, causing him to let go of the other’s cannon. He had been knocked back onto his own back as he tried to get the world around him to stop spinning.
He rolled over onto his side and shook his helm trying to gather himself. As he did so, he heard the faint sound of glass shattering against the floor. As his vision cleared his optics locked on to rather yellow bits of glass scattered on the floor.
"Y…you broke my goggles!!" he exclaimed in disbelief. he never knew why, but he was very proud of his yellow goggles, and he didn’t like anyone busting them.
His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sharp pain in his side. He quickly caught himself, and continued to attempt to get up, only to receive more and more punishment. His bad leg had been hit a few times causing him to yell in pain. Being a good little Autobot seemed like a good option now, but it was too late, now he had to fight.
He knew he would have to take some time stand up due to his leg, especially now that it hurt worse. So he had to find another way to fight from the ground. Easy enough, he could still drive, and he had several weapons at his disposal.
One thing was bothering him though: Why wasn’t the Decepticon shooting? Yeah they were in a small space, but he was still an easy target to shoot. If anyone should be watching their firearms, it was Scattorshot. He decided not to dig too deep into it and just take it as Primus good will keeping him alive this far.
While still being attacked he quickly transformed into his tank mode and began to roll.
"Get lost ya doggone, no good bolt head!!" he shouted as he drove straight for the seekers legs. He may not be able to run, but man could he drive.
He’s frantically following them there sirens.
It had been simple enough to find the server room; most halls at this end of the outpost were fairly abandoned, and the signs leading the way had helped a bit. With no one guarding the door, and a simple keypad keeping the place locked, Thundercracker had little trouble entering and holding his cannon to the technician’s helm. His gaze drifted to the mech’s servo, uttering an unimpressed “tssk”-ing noise.
"Y’all had best move yer servo there, buddy," advised the Seeker. "Now, Ah ain’t gonna hurt’cha, Ah just need a few things, m’kay?"
Cannon poised, he slowly circled the Autobot until he had reached the terminal in front of the frightened mech. It was a standard setup, nothing too daunting—eight large monitors, all flashing rolling bits of data, or showing various angles of the base from different security cameras. A smirk crossed his features as he reached into his subspace, pulling out the data stick he had brought with him. With it, he hoped to download their entire database within a few moments.
"Heh, looks like you’ve been keepin’ an optic on me," he joked, turning to insert the device. "This won’t take long, really— just be a good little Autobot, an’ you’ll get outta this with yer spark intact, got that?"
This mech wasn’t much to look at; sure, he had a couple of cannons mounted on his back, but firing them at this close range would destroy them both, along with the terminal. If those guards were to be believed, he was also injured, essentially trapping him in his seat. Thundercracker felt confident as he finally turned to completely face the terminal, leaning over it to begin the transfer process.
He knew he should have hit the alarm when he first saw him. Now he was probably going to be offed as soon as this con got what he wanted. And all he could do was sit there, be scared, and do nothing. He was too scared to even respond to the taunting that the other was giving.
Not to mention who knew what this guy was getting from the computer! Not even Scattorshot had had time to sift through all the info they were granted access too. Lives could be at stake. No, he couldn’t let that happen because he was scared. And scared he was.
He had never been on a battlefield to fight. He had always been sitting on the sidelines hoping his friends were going to come back okay. Which made the cannon to the helm thing worse. He knew he had to do something, but what? He had zero experience in combat.
Finally as the blue seeker turned his helm he decided to act. If he were going to die, he’d rather die fighting, than giving in. He swiftly grabbed the cannon and hoisted it up away from his helm, and held it there. Even with a bum leg, years of computer work and repairs mixed with basic upper body training left Scattorshot with one thing: Strong arms and hands.
He propelled himself towards the seeker using his free arm and good leg. Managing to do something almost equivalent to a tackle. He began to spin the tires on his shoulders to prevent the seeker from grabbing them, and help keep his arms free.
"You’re not getting anything that easily!!" he growled trying to sound intimidating, and ready to fight, even though he was really just terrified.
Admittedly, he had many other weapons and firearms aside from his missile pack on his back, ones that would have easily and efficiently gotten rid of the threat, but he couldn’t even fathom the thought of extinguishing another’s spark. Even if he was more in danger.
Although, if he had a chance at living before, it was gone due to the fact he was not engaging the Decepticon. He hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot him, because he didn’t know if he could even do it. He tried not to think about it as he tried to keep a grip on the others cannon as he pulled one arm back to deliver a punch.
Over countless millennia of war, Red Alert had become somewhat jaded to death, dismemberment, and nearly everything in between. Although, he couldn’t quite deny the idea that humans consuming other humans was sort of… odd. After all, Cybertronians did not consume each other— the closest there was to that were the scrapmetals, turning everything in their wake to a desolate wasteland. It was odd, and yet, somewhat fascinating.
All the while, Scattorshot was drawing closer, holding him tightly, pleading for security. The longer it persisted, the more comfortable he had felt in obliging; a strong arm wrapped tightly around the technician, his free servo continuing to hold and anchor the other’s. It was hard enough to try and express his strange feelings to Scattorshot openly, let alone attempt to initiate any sort of contact outside of talking. Things had always been easier for the CMO when someone else made the first move— this case was no different.
In the end, Red Alert continued to hold his friend close, to assure him that all would be well. He looked down at the technician and smiled, gently rubbing at his back plating.
"Hmm, you trust me with that decision? I guess I could do that. Although… that would mean you would have to let go of me."
In some ways, he really wanted to get up: another movie would mean they could continue to hold each other, to spend time with one another. However, not moving at all would earn him the same thing. The only difference, however, was a movie would help fill the silence, which, he felt, was only just becoming less and less awkward.
He didn’t really want the medic to leave right yet, but he also didn’t want to crowd him. Besides, he’d be coming back.
"Oh…right. Sorry," he said allowing his friend to get up. He hoped whatever he picked wouldn’t have to do with what they just watched. That was scary as heck!
However he did trust the medic with the choice of movie they would watch. He began to pet his scrapmetals as he waited patiently for his friend to make his decision.