Kalaryx's 'verse. The Ark and environs. Trouble in the Air.

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“I am searching,” she'd said, crimson optics glaring about herself, “For Galvatron Prime.”

Of course, the Prime honorific hadn't been the first giveaway that the femme they'd encountered was not quite like any ordinary Decepticon. Her attitude, demeanor and dialect spoke very clearly of her Decepticon origins, and that was leaving aside her design and the prominent enemy decals she so very clearly sported, even if they were entirely the wrong colour. And yet there she'd been, demanding to be allowed into the presence of a Prime as though that wasn't an utterly laughable concept.

Of course, no-one had had any idea who Galvatron was, and almost as soon as she'd started explaining the strange femme had suddenly clammed up again, though Prowl was certain that particular event had coincided entirely too closely with someone mentioning Megatron. Either way, she'd refused to be drawn any further on the matter and had suddenly resorted to demands for aid in helping her to return to her home plane. Apparently she was infinitely more comfortable with the idea of multiple realities than anyone else was, even the truly scientifically minded mechs such as Perceptor and Wheeljack.

Prowl, for his part, had ensured that Optimus was given the best of his recommendations on how to deal with this obviously threatening newcomer, all of which were promptly and soundly ignored by everyone.

“Chill, my mech,” Jazz had said. “Optimus has it covered.”

No, Prowl had thought. She does. With whatever weapons she has concealed about her chassis.

Despite his protests – long and at length – Optimus had granted the femme a private audience which had lasted almost two hours, the entirety of which Prowl had spent standing outside the door just about managing not to pace up and down. Jazz for his part had been content to lean back on the wall at the other side of the corridor and wile the time away listening to his music.

He had no idea what they'd spoken about in there, but at the end of it the pair of them had reappeared, Optimus had placed a small device in Wheeljack's hands, told him to have a go at fixing it - fixing it mind, not improving it – after which she'd been assigned quarters and it was strongly implied that everyone was to go about their lives quite as normal.

Naturally, Prowl had taken the matter up with Optimus at his earliest convenience, and probably just a little before the Prime wanted, but not at all before he expected. And he'd been told quite clearly, quite firmly, and with the gentle sincerity that only Prime was capable of, it was all for the best.

And that is why Prowl is on the battlefield with something that looks remarkably similar to a Decepticon Seeker soaring overhead, an Autobot gun in her taloned hands, looking out at an army of mechs who seem just as surprised to see the newcomer where she is as he himself is. He listens to the roar of her engines, jet-engines, built for speed and power, and represses the twinge that marks them out as enemy, for now at least.

He's seen her in the training manoeuvres, noted the sleek and deadly grace, and marked her down as complete and utter trouble in yet another way. Created for war, a dealer of death and totally unrepentant for it, Prowl knows that this dark-sparked femme is nothing more than trouble on two stylized, menacing wings. He watches her hanging in the air above the ground troops, defying anyone to fire at her, friend or foe, and frowns just slightly.

She has her optics set on the Decepticons gathered not so far away and her expression is unreadable. Prowl looks from her to the mech she is staring at – Megatron – and his fingers tighten minutely on his gun.

Yes, definitely trouble.





((written by kalaryx))

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The dark femme's gaze is unbroken, even when the object of her scrutiny bellows anger and kicks his second before turning and shouting his defiance and scorn at Optimus Prime. There is no movement, nothing to say that a living bot hangs there in the air over the battlefield. But if her optics were lasers Megatron would look like Swiss cheese.

[kalaryx.livejournal.com]

Prowl, ever the cynic, is maintaining a not-so-subtle watch upon her, the frown that has been etched on his faceplates the last few days starting to look as though it will never fade back to its usual mild disapproval. He primes his pistols once more, even though he has already checked them thoroughly before coming out here, and waits for Prime's command.

It is not Prime that speaks first however. Megatron has stepped forward and although the wind carries the majority of his words away from where Prowl is positioned, he can still make out the usual arrogant disdain and almost comical gloating. *Don't count your cubes before they've been distilled, Megatron* he thinks and positions himself so that his line of fire can include both Deceptions and...any others that might need watching - just in case.

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The Decepticon leader's tirade continues, part of it now addressed to the black bot in the air over the Autobot side. Deathscream makes to reply, gives no response or sign that she's even heard his words.

But then she turns suddenly in mid-air, her hand coming up with lightening speed and seeming aimed right at Optimus Prime. The shot is fired before anyone can speak, and there's a yelp and a crash from somewhere behind the Prime as the Decepticon who had been creeping up behind him topples, a smoking ruin.

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Prowl, it has to be said, almost jumps out of his plating. His own gun comes up before he even has time to compute the move it seems, but by that point the deed is done. Prime has turned, almost slowly, as though he is taking all this in stride. He nods once and then turns back to face the Deceptions. "Not today, Megatron!" he says. "Autobots, attack!"

There is a plan and Prowl has to stick to it. Nonetheless, he'd already factored in the possibility that Deathscream might attack them, so although the shot seemed intended for a Con, Prowl still has the time to order in his two teams of flanking attacks and start making his way closer to the Prime just to make sure.

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The battle is sharp, fueled partly by Autobot anger at the cheap shot. Seekers and Aerialbots tumble and dogfight overhead, but nothing comes from Deathscream till there is a sudden piercing shriek of agony from overhead.

It's Starscream. Deathscream has him by the throat and is in the process of ripping his wings off as though he were a bug.

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Prowl is taking pot-shots at the oncoming rush of 'Cons, clipping Rumble's back and sending him spinning backwards off Bumblebee's shoulder. He looks up at the awful noise coming from above, but he's not the only one. Skywarp and Thundercracker are heading in, drawn by their trine-mate's howls. Thundercracker is firing both nullrays and Skywarp is just beginning to flicker with the first signs of an oncoming teleport. Prowl can see quite clearly that the purple Seeker intends to jump in and grab Starscream whilst Thundercracker draws Deathcream's attention.

The brutality with which she deals with Megatron's second in command is fully noted by the Prime's tactician. As is Megatron himself, pausing to look up at his Air Commander. With a snarl the Decepticon lord raises his arm and takes aim - the tip of his gun begins to glow fiercely.

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Deathscream's borrowed gun flashes toward Skywarp and fires even as she moves the now crippled Starscream between herself and Megatron. Coolly, as though things were not exploding all around her and at her, and she were merely pointing at a pretty cloud formation while out on a pleasure flight, she then turns the gun toward Thundercracker and fires again.

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Skywarp's gone and the shot sizzles through the space he'd just vacated. He reappears in a burst of light, almost to run into Starscream as Deathscream moves him around between herself and Megatron. Thundercracker is forced to swerve aside from her shot, but Skywarp reaches out to the Seeker with his claws, digs them hard into Starscream and yanks him away. He intends to teleport them both far out of range.

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Skywarp receives a parting shot from the dark femme's fist even as she fires her gun.

There's a hoarse bellow of pain and shock from below as Megatron crumples. Before Deathscream can fire again Soundwave has thrown himself at his fallen master and snatched him up.

And now, for the first time, there is hesitation in Deathscream's actions, and a troubled look in those usually lifeless optics as she watches the dark blue Decepticon take to the air as he calls the retreat.

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Thundercracker, still furious, but both seeing the situation turning against them and hearing the retreat being called, does not return for a second pass. Instead he trusts 'Warp to have hoisted Starscream clear and heads off after the rest of the retreating 'Cons.

Prowl, watching from the ground, has an expression like stone. He could be furious, he could be disgusted, he could simply be tired, he's not letting on. He signals his teams to call off their attack as the Prime too signals the end of the engagement, and stands watching the skies, waiting to see what the dark-winged femme will do now.

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Deathscream watches Soundwave for a moment, but then quickly scans the area before dropping to the ground with arms above her and looking to Optimus Prime for orders. Her optics and expression are once more impassive.

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Optimus gives her a calm nod as he oversees the wind down of the battle. "Well done, everyone," he says, including her in the gaze he sweeps over them all. "Let's get back to base!"

The Autobots move into a group, preparing to head home. Prowl is still watching her, not glaring, but keeping an optic on everyone. He makes sure he's t the back of the group when they gather up to leave.

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Those cold crimson optics scan the others as they transform to roll out, and then she stalks over to where Bumblebee and Spike are discussing her with awestruck faces. Both fall silent and look up at her with wide visual sensors as several other bots fall silent and focus to see what she's going to say to the youthful pair.

Her words shock many.

"Do you want a ride?"

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"Uhhh, well. Uhm," says Spike, quite obviously not knowing how to take this. "I'm uh.."

"I'll take him," says Bumblebee, usually the most forgiving of mechs now moved to protectiveness having witnessed just what this femme is capable of.

"Yeah, yeah," an apparently relieved Spike hurries to add. "Me and Bumblebee got it covered. But, uh, thanks?"

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"The offer was to you as well," says that high, shrill voice softly. But the femme nods and turns away, her predatory gaze sweeping the ranks before she finally launches and follows the rest of the team.

She overflies the convoy on the way back, passing back and forth like one who is accustomed to providing cover for ground forces. There is grace and power in her movements, but none of the usual gleeful acrobatics that usually mark a Seeker in the air. Even now, with no danger in sensor range, the black femme is on duty, keyed to the command of the one that she's chosen to follow in the absence of her own commander. Surprisingly, she's the first on the scene when Brawn's axle decides to break with a sound like a rifle shot, and the burly little mech is lifted into her arms as he protests with embarrassment mixed with gruff amusement.

"Actually," says Optimus soberly after he's come back to investigate the hold up. "Ratchet's already carrying two, and I don't want you left behind, Brawn. We have to get back as fast as possible. Teletraan just reported a stranger outside the Ark."

[kalaryx.livejournal.com]

Bumblebee and Spike stare open-mouthed after her, having been taken completely by surprise, and as she leaves they turn to one another in puzzlement. "Now that I wasn't expecting," admits Spike.

The convoy's hold up brings Prowl hovering along in the Prime's wake and he stands watching from behind the Prime's shoulders as Deathscream hoists Brawn into the air with dismissive ease. He meets Brawn's optics, giving him a brief nod of reassurance. Deathscream's concern for the members of the Autobot team strikes him as strange and he doesn't dismiss the possibility that she may be doing it solely to win their confidence.

"Did Teletraan send an image?" he asks Optimus, mind immediately jumping to the possibility of a Decepticon counter-attack.

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The Autobot Prime watches as Ratchet drives over to scan the damaged bot in Deathscream's arms.

"It did," he says very quietly in response to Prowl's question. "And I suppose I should have actually said that there are two strange bots outside the Ark, though I know the names of both of them. The one is sitting on a rock a little distance from the entrance, in plain sight, and the other is sitting by his feet."

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Prowl frowns lightly at this and shifts slightly. "Who? Shall I go on ahead and engage them?" he asks, not really wanting to leave the Prime's side, but seeing the advantage of being first on the scene to deal with what is probably even more trouble.

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//I'm not sure that's necessary,// says Optimus softly over private comms as he transforms and once more rolls out. //They aren't enemies.//

Behind them, Deathscream waits for Ratchet's go ahead, then leaps into the air and follows the convoy in bot mode, Brawn still held securely in her arms. If Prowl should happen to listen, he might hear the burly little fighter trying to bribe the black femme into dropping him on Sunstreaker's newly repainted hood.

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Prowl is frowning heavily again, but he transforms and follows his Prime. //With all due respect, Optimus,// he replies. //How exactly do you know that?//

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//Because I'm currently watching a live feed of them interacting,// says Optimus gently. //And because I would trust Kup and Bumblebee both with my life.//

"Ow! Slaggit! That was my skidplate!" comes Brawn's complaint from overhead.

"That's the part you hit when someone's being naughty, isn't it?" replies Deathscream coolly.

[kalaryx.livejournal.com]

For a long second Prowl pauses, and it would be obvious to the Prime who has known him for such a long time that he's fiercely putting his logic processor back into some semblance of order. Two copies of mechs could cause so very many more problems than a single newcomer, no matter how strange she might seem.

"We shouldn't let them meet," he says softly, his voice a little distant as he looks up, following the progress of the new Seeker and her kicking cargo.

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//I don't think we have much choice in the matter,// comes the gentle rejoinder. //Thankfully, our Kup is still on Cybertron. More than one Bumblebee is going to be interesting, though.//

He pauses, his engine taking on at thoughtful rumble as he watches the feed. //It seems that their transportation devices also stopped working the moment they arrived.//

Brawn, meanwhile, has reached full indignant roar, his anger intensified by the jeering of the pair of Lamborghinies driving along below.

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//Transportation devices? You mean they can't her back with them?// This is a disturbing thought for Prowl, whose primary concern is getting everything back to normal and minimizing the potential for more visitors. After all, if these mechs can move around with such apparent ease, what's stopping an army from coming through? //We need to get back there // he says, suddenly far more focussed.

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//That is the plan,// says the Prime with his gentle, non-mocking humor. Then he pings an offer to let Prowl watch the feed from Teletraan too.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, if you two get Brawn so slagged off that he punches your hoods in again I'll leave you like that for a few days," says Ratchet calmly from his place behind Optimus.

The sudden Lambo silence is nearly palpable.

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Prowl accepts the connection and begins streaming the feed immediately. He frowns over what he sees, and when he stops watching he comes back into a world where the volume has suddenly turned down. He glances to the side, looking for the cause of the lack of sound, and noting the expression on Ratchet's face nods once.

"I suggest we move out, sir. Immediately."

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"I don't think we can move out anymore than we already are," says Optimus, gently pointing out that the majority of the team have been transformed and rolling for home for the past several minutes. He's worried by Prowl's words, wondering if the logical warrior is under too much strain from the situation.