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.
The CMO froze, staring back at the questioning mech. It wasn’t as though he was attempting to leave— really, he wanted nothing of the sort. ”I, ah… I was just readjusting, that’s all. I wasn’t entirely comfortable.”
As Scattorshot turned to find something for them to watch, Red Alert shifted uneasily on the soft berth, trying to find somewhere to settle in. The desire to have a berth that was essentially a giant pillow was lost on him for a number of reasons; the most important of which was the fact that he could never quite find the right spot to sit without sinking into the cushioned abyss. Whether it was his previous frames or his upgraded build, pillow berths had always sort of been his downfall. Well, that and Decepticon commanders.
The only upside to his predicament was that he had left his monstrous cannon back in the lab. Without it, and after a bit of squirming, he finally found a place on the berth that was relatively comfortable, and hopefully would allow for him to remove himself later. At that moment, Scattorshot had finally laid back down next to him—almost as close as he had been before.
“‘Vampires’?” he repeated. “Hmm. I’m not entirely certain what those are, but why not?”
Just as the movie began—and as slowly as possible—Red Alert gently moved his servo to rest atop Scattorshot’s. It was… just for security’s sake, of course; if the movie did happen to be scary, he wanted to assure the other that he was there.
As the movie began to play, Scattorshot felt something atop his own hand. He decided not to worry about it, and carry on stealthily moving closer to Red Alert.
As the movie continued on, the rumors about vampires quickly began to ring false, and became quickly scared. Living in a war or not, this was terrifying for him. He hated horror movies.
This was the second movie in which strange humanoid beings ate other humans. Why was eating humans a popular thing in movies? At certain points he would quickly look away, and at other points he would reach across and hold onto Red Alert for dear life.
By the time the movie had ended, someone could say that Scattorshot had been welded to the medic, as one hand was gripping Red Alerts, and his other arm was hugging the medic. He felt like he had ruined the movie.
"Okay….m-maybe you should pick the next one…." he said beginning to calm down.
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For an outpost near a decimated city, the place seemed a bit too occupied for Thundercracker’s liking. For every Autobot that stormed past his various hiding places, his wings twitched in agitation, their fields all giving off too many negative, paranoid readings— from what he could tell, most of these troops were on a shoot-first, ask-questions-never sort of mentality. The only thing currently working in the Seeker’s favor were the numerous broken-out lights, and his smaller stature.
Quietly, he stalked through the base as quickly as possible. On numerous occasions, he dove between crates, into darkened and empty corridors, listening, watching, waiting. He was still uncertain as to what, exactly, he was looking for— their main terminal could be hidden anywhere, guarded by any number of mecha or heavy weapons. Based on the easily-spooked soldiers around, he reasoned that there would definitely be some security around it.
That was, until, he paused behind a crate to listen in on a pair of guards.
"So who left that technician all by himself down there?"
"Eh, big boss said he should stay put with his leg all damaged like it is."
"That’s a shame. Still, guess he’s better off sitting around in the dark than out where he’d be an easy target."
Thundercracker grinned to himself, slipping out of his hiding place and down the hall once more. An injured mech sitting around anywhere was an easy target, in his optics— not that he would ever consider killing the mech, though. He would simply knock them out with a swift whack from his cannon, download the information he needed, and be on his way. The fact that it was only a technician would make his job that much easier. Sending a quick pulse of confidence through his bond, Thundercracker continued to make his way down to the lower levels of the base.
What he had neglected to spot, however, was a cleverly-hidden security camera just above a stack of crates, tracking his every move down the darkened hallway.
Okayyyy, sneaky small mech was skulking in the shadows. That’s normal. Not suspicious at all.
Scattorshot had to constantly switch cameras to keep an optic on this weird dude. He didn’t recognise him, but he couldn’t trigger an alarm until he could positively identify that it was a Decepticon. It could be that one trouble making hot head that has an affinity with pulling pranks.
And if it was him, he should be sneaking because he was supposed to be in the disciplinary center after his last prank nearly exposed a group of 100 or so undercover Autobots. Stupid kid.
However, this guy looked like he had wings. That kid was a grounder. He looked at where the mech seemed to be heading, and unfortunately it was right to the computers, and right where Scattorshot was. He saw fit to trigger an alarm as a just in case, but before he could he heard the door behind him open.
He turned to look, only to see Decepticon brands, and a very large cannon. Slag. He was frozen with fear, as his hand hovered over the alarm button.
"…Hello," he said in a weak voice.
As odd as it felt to admit, the sudden absence of Scattorshot’s arm draped over him was… upsetting. The CMO had always enjoyed Scattorshot’s presence, and had never minded when the other had asked for a hug, had leaned on him for support, or the nights where he was too shaken to be alone and sought out the medic for comfort. Now, more than ever, Red Alert was beginning to realize that he preferred being in his friend’s company more than anything.
Even the silence that had settled between them was comforting, at least to him. Turning his helm to look at the technician, however, he was surprised to see the mech quickly move from the berth and rummage around the room for something.
"A… a movie?"
When was the last time he had actually taken the time to relax and watch something? As far as he could remember… it had been far too long; the original trio of humans that he had befriended brought in some of their Earth films to watch and show Hot Shot, and Red Alert had paused his routines to indulge and watch a bit with them. They were laughably archaic, but were still oddly fascinating. Watching something, anything with Scattorshot… it wasn’t something he could pass up.
Adjusting himself to sit up on the berth, he smiled in return. “Sure, I suppose. I guess I’d be up for whatever it is you’d like to watch.”
He smiled at the medic and set up the projector, aiming it upwards at the ceiling.
"Lay back down Red. What are ya sittin’ up for?" he asked looking back at the medic.
He went over to his shelf of movies. Getting Cybertronian movies were extremely hard due to the war, and the ones he had he either wasn’t a big fan of, or he didn’t want to get messed up. So he turned his attention to his much larger collection of human movies.
He skimmed through a couple of the disks, looking at the title, searching for one he hadn’t seen yet. Though that wasn’t too hard, considering Earth had a lot of movies. Converting them, and putting them on Cybertronain disks were a bit tough, and that prevented him from having all the Earth movies. He liked movies.
Finally he made a selection and popped it into the slot on the projector and laid back down on his berth next to Red Alert. He looked up to the ceiling where the movie would begin playing.
"This one’s some type of vampire movie. And considering what people say about vampires it shouldn’t be too scary," he said maneuvering himself closer to Red Alert.