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ayngelcatTitle: The Other 'Copter
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Blades.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story.
Prompt: #2 Master List: “Envy.”
Notes: Set some time after B.O.T. This dynamic is quite an important part of my headcanon so I had to give it some consideration and this was a good opportunity to do so. But I haven't written Blades before and I only call this a 'start!'
THE OTHER 'COPTER
The voice of Streetwise rang out loud and clear.
// Blades! Proceed to area 11. House at 172 Marshall Street. Human family stranded on roof.//
//Copy! //
Blades adjusted revs and altered course, proceeding low over the storm ravaged human settlement. His rotors made patterns in the flooded vista, sending little waves sweeping towards the lines of treetops and roofs which rose from the floodwaters like grim sentinels, all that marked the network of roads in the ruined town
The Autobot ‘copter did his best to remain enthusiastic. It had been a long day, and area 11 was the worst hit. Only this morning, Hoist and Hotspot had pulled from under the submerged bridge a collection of humans who ‘hadn’t made it.” When Blades had arrived they were laid out in rows on the rescue platform, and once First Aid had solemnly loaded them, Blades had had the task of conveying them to the make shift morgue on the town outskirts.
It had hardly been a cheering event.
Streetwise’s voice sounded again, // And – uh - when you’ve done that,// he said, // there’s another family lost their dog in Area 5. Could you do a quick sweep and see if you can spot it? //
// Copy. No problem. //
Yet, the willing voice of the red and white copter belied his real feelings. It had been a long and tiring day, apart from the episode this morning.
Blades this, Blades that .... Blades – rescue required here; Blades – we’re dealing with an electrical fire area 6, can we have aerial support ....
Then there were other requests: Blades, some minibots need transporting back to base. They’re exhausted. And the best one. Groove: // Hey Blades - mech! Hey - my exhaust pipe fell off just outside the town limits. You wouldn’t be able to find a garage that isn’t underwater and get me a new one? //
As the 'copter drew over area 11 and circled, he let out a bitter sigh. There was another reason he was so busy, another reason the Protectobots were so thin on the ground. Some battle with the Decepticons on the other side of the country. And whilst it was true the Protectobots had more expertise with the humans, and that First Aid was better at patching them up than Ratchet - who would be needed to fix the inevitable damage done by the Decepticons - Blades knew the real reason for his own lack of participation. His overzealous behaviour on the battlefield and the thing that had happened on the last outing.
Waving hands and voices below caught the copter’s sensors. He swept low and came to a halt, hovering, and extended the cage which would transport them back to base. He felt the first human clamber in, heard anxious voices. “Take it slowly” he transmitted down, more out of routine protocol than concern for the humans.
They were fluffing around. A sparkling was crying, evidently not wanting to get in the cage. Blades wished they would just get on with it. His mind went back again to the incident. And Hotspot’s words.
“Blades we’re Autobots. We use only enough force to defend ourselves. And to do - that - to a mech who’s not even a flyer. It was hardly a fair contest. Not our way, no. Prime isn’t pleased ....”
The human sparkling was evidently on board, and now the rest were clambering in. They were heavier than expected and Blades increased revs to keep up the support, still thinking of the conversation.
“It was not only unautobottish but foolhardy. You endangered yourself and the whole of this outfit! We’ve had this conversation before – about taking on Vortex!”
“It would have been all right. It that buffoon Powerglide hadn’t ruined everything!”
“Please don’t talk like that about a fellow Autobot! And it would not! You are not to tackle him again on your own. In fact, Prime and I think it best that you don’t engage the Decepticons at all for a while. That you keep a low profile. Besides, there’s more than enough work to be done in the human assistance branch!”
“We’re all in” yelled a human voice, evidently that of the leader. There was the sound of the cage door clanging shut. “Take it away, 'copter!”
Sudden anger surged. “Take it away, 'copter!” Blades was suddenly tempted to swing the cage hard so the door flew open and they all went plopping into the water. As it was he soared away rather fast, knowing they’d have to cling hard. A few muffled cries sounded from below. Blades ignored them.
As he soared over the ruined town. Blades thought angrily of that day again. How could Hotspot say it was ‘not a fair contest’ with Swindle? Hadn’t they seen what a dirty fighter the yellow mech was – and what a good shot. How he played the good natured ‘I’m not really a fighter I’m a salesmech’ gaff in front of the Autobots, so that they went easy just so he could put the boot in when they weren’t looking or – better still – get the rest of his team to do it.
Well, Blades had seen right through that charade, and he’d given the mech a proper pasting; which had resulted in a broken windscreen, smashed headlamps and the slicing off of part of Swindle’s arm with his tail rotors. And of course, right on cue the others had appeared. That tank, who had simply blasted away in the manner he tended to do, a series of random volleys which Blades had been well able to miss. And then - of course – the other copter swept in with his usual dramatic flair.
Which was what Blades had been half hoping for. Except that it hadn’t really turned out the way he’d planned. There was no full on aerial battle, from which he emerged battered but victorious. Vortex had simply manoeuvred around behind him and laughed, talking in that infuriating drawl of his. // So you’re up for a fight then, bad boy?//
// I’ll kill you! // Blades had said.
There was more laughter. // I don’t think so! However, I’m not going to deal with you this time, because you seem to have damaged my team mate and he needs my help. But that’s all right. It can wait. Perhaps you should go away now and play with your toy guns and think about it ... //
And he’d swept away down to attend to the wailing Swindle; a joke, seeing as how he didn’t even like the jeep. By all accounts.
// I mean it! // Blades had yelled. // You got in wrong, psycho, You’re dead! // And he’d fired at the pair of them, putting a hole through one of Vortex’s blades and attracting more flack from the tank - who he’d forgotten about - but which he’d easily dodged.
And despite the fact that the other ‘copter had laughed even harder, he could have gone in and done it, despite the tank, before Vortex took off with Swindle. except that just then there’d been the sound of a plane in the sky and Powerglide had commed. // Blades – orders to disengage and return to base .... // which was pathetic, seeing as how the red plane went on about what a tough guy he was.
****
Blades arrived at the base and deposited the humans, who clambered out of the cage as he hovered and departed without even a ‘thank you.’ First Aid was waiting, and he ushered them towards the nearby building. Blades heard sputtering, and the sound one always heard when a human was purging it’s tanks. Which wouldn’t please First Aid. Blades knew.
But as always, the medic showed no sign of annoyance. // You’re doing a good job // was all he said, softly. // I expect you can probably turn in now. //
// Negative. I’m going to look for a dog! // Blades screamed the revs up on his engine, taking off again in a flurry and wind which caused bits of human clothing and other paraphernalia to fly up around him and lodge in a nearby tree.
He caught sight of First Aid’s dismayed face and the humans looking decidedly the worse for wear as he swept away. But he was not in the mood for feeling guilty.
*****
How good would it be to be Vortex? Blades thought angrily as he sped in the direction of Area 5. To go where he wanted and do what he liked. To be authorised to fight and do damage, to show no mercy with the enemy; to be as heavy handed as the occasion demanded. As if there would be recriminations from Megatron, or ‘little talks” from Onslaught about being ‘overenthusiastic!’
And the other copter had done a great deal of damage, Blades reflected bitterly as he drew over Area 5, also flooded but with small islands here and there where the ground was higher than in the more devastated zones. He has done a lot of damage, and continues to, and I’m not even allowed to think about retaliation. Even though I’m of the same prototype!
Take it away, ‘copter !
It was the story of his life! Blades tried to think about Vortex with a cage of humans swinging beneath him on the way to a rescue base. It didn’t compute.
And it was worse, he thought as he engaged autoscanners, programming in organic ... canine so he did not have to pay too much actual attention to the task. Despite what the ‘Bots might say, despite their ‘protestations,’ an air of mystique surrounded the Combaticon. Every time there was an encounter or a capture or a near miss, everyone went on about it in hushed tones, regurgitating for the umpteenth time what a travesty it was that Vortex had been allowed to remain free, how difficult it had made their task, how one of these days justice would prevail when really, Blades surmised, they all wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end and were secretly thrilled at the idea.
And some of them deliberately put themselves in the position! Blades was sure of it. to do what you want and have whoever you want, whenever! Why was it that the universe had bestowed this apparent priviledge on his counterpart and not even an inkling of the same upon him!"
“They think you’re ‘something’, too!” First Aid had said. “They see you as a bit like him. But a milder more Autobot-like version.”
That had made him so angry he could hardly speak.
“They see me as nothing like him!" he had yelled. "To them I’m like - a naughty sparkling! To be patted on the head and told to behave myself!”
“Can you imagine me hauling 'cons in and interrogating them?” he’d gone on, despite the sorrowful look on his team mate’s faceplates. “I wouldn’t even be allowed to suggest it! And if I did, everybody would laugh at me. Including you!”
And First Aid had laid his hand on his arm, but he’d stormed off, not wishing to continue the conversation.
A barking sound issued from below. Turning his attention to the wet wasteland below, Blades sensors picked up the dog among some trees on one of the islands. // Subject located! // he radioed to Streetwise.
// Hey – good work! I got the owners here. D’you think you could just – pick him up and bring him in? His name’s ‘Rover,’ and they reckon he’ll get in the cage, no problem! //
// Sure! // said Blades, his denta gritted within his alt form.
*****
The dog kept up a infernal and infuriating yapping, but thankfully there were no more requests from Streetwise. Or anybody else. Nevertheless, Blades felt little better. As he neared the base, the copter vowed to himself that come what may there was going to be a showdown. It didn’t matter what they thought or said, it was what he was made for. His - destiny. As much as ever it would be Vortex’s.
“What was it Prime was always meant to come out with in the worst conflicts with Megatron? One shall stand, one shall fall ?
You had better believe it! vowed Blades as he revved his engine and, increasing rotorspeed, soared gracefully in the direction of the base, the cage still swinging below.
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Blades.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story.
Prompt: #2 Master List: “Envy.”
Notes: Set some time after B.O.T. This dynamic is quite an important part of my headcanon so I had to give it some consideration and this was a good opportunity to do so. But I haven't written Blades before and I only call this a 'start!'
THE OTHER 'COPTER
The voice of Streetwise rang out loud and clear.
// Blades! Proceed to area 11. House at 172 Marshall Street. Human family stranded on roof.//
//Copy! //
Blades adjusted revs and altered course, proceeding low over the storm ravaged human settlement. His rotors made patterns in the flooded vista, sending little waves sweeping towards the lines of treetops and roofs which rose from the floodwaters like grim sentinels, all that marked the network of roads in the ruined town
The Autobot ‘copter did his best to remain enthusiastic. It had been a long day, and area 11 was the worst hit. Only this morning, Hoist and Hotspot had pulled from under the submerged bridge a collection of humans who ‘hadn’t made it.” When Blades had arrived they were laid out in rows on the rescue platform, and once First Aid had solemnly loaded them, Blades had had the task of conveying them to the make shift morgue on the town outskirts.
It had hardly been a cheering event.
Streetwise’s voice sounded again, // And – uh - when you’ve done that,// he said, // there’s another family lost their dog in Area 5. Could you do a quick sweep and see if you can spot it? //
// Copy. No problem. //
Yet, the willing voice of the red and white copter belied his real feelings. It had been a long and tiring day, apart from the episode this morning.
Blades this, Blades that .... Blades – rescue required here; Blades – we’re dealing with an electrical fire area 6, can we have aerial support ....
Then there were other requests: Blades, some minibots need transporting back to base. They’re exhausted. And the best one. Groove: // Hey Blades - mech! Hey - my exhaust pipe fell off just outside the town limits. You wouldn’t be able to find a garage that isn’t underwater and get me a new one? //
As the 'copter drew over area 11 and circled, he let out a bitter sigh. There was another reason he was so busy, another reason the Protectobots were so thin on the ground. Some battle with the Decepticons on the other side of the country. And whilst it was true the Protectobots had more expertise with the humans, and that First Aid was better at patching them up than Ratchet - who would be needed to fix the inevitable damage done by the Decepticons - Blades knew the real reason for his own lack of participation. His overzealous behaviour on the battlefield and the thing that had happened on the last outing.
Waving hands and voices below caught the copter’s sensors. He swept low and came to a halt, hovering, and extended the cage which would transport them back to base. He felt the first human clamber in, heard anxious voices. “Take it slowly” he transmitted down, more out of routine protocol than concern for the humans.
They were fluffing around. A sparkling was crying, evidently not wanting to get in the cage. Blades wished they would just get on with it. His mind went back again to the incident. And Hotspot’s words.
“Blades we’re Autobots. We use only enough force to defend ourselves. And to do - that - to a mech who’s not even a flyer. It was hardly a fair contest. Not our way, no. Prime isn’t pleased ....”
The human sparkling was evidently on board, and now the rest were clambering in. They were heavier than expected and Blades increased revs to keep up the support, still thinking of the conversation.
“It was not only unautobottish but foolhardy. You endangered yourself and the whole of this outfit! We’ve had this conversation before – about taking on Vortex!”
“It would have been all right. It that buffoon Powerglide hadn’t ruined everything!”
“Please don’t talk like that about a fellow Autobot! And it would not! You are not to tackle him again on your own. In fact, Prime and I think it best that you don’t engage the Decepticons at all for a while. That you keep a low profile. Besides, there’s more than enough work to be done in the human assistance branch!”
“We’re all in” yelled a human voice, evidently that of the leader. There was the sound of the cage door clanging shut. “Take it away, 'copter!”
Sudden anger surged. “Take it away, 'copter!” Blades was suddenly tempted to swing the cage hard so the door flew open and they all went plopping into the water. As it was he soared away rather fast, knowing they’d have to cling hard. A few muffled cries sounded from below. Blades ignored them.
As he soared over the ruined town. Blades thought angrily of that day again. How could Hotspot say it was ‘not a fair contest’ with Swindle? Hadn’t they seen what a dirty fighter the yellow mech was – and what a good shot. How he played the good natured ‘I’m not really a fighter I’m a salesmech’ gaff in front of the Autobots, so that they went easy just so he could put the boot in when they weren’t looking or – better still – get the rest of his team to do it.
Well, Blades had seen right through that charade, and he’d given the mech a proper pasting; which had resulted in a broken windscreen, smashed headlamps and the slicing off of part of Swindle’s arm with his tail rotors. And of course, right on cue the others had appeared. That tank, who had simply blasted away in the manner he tended to do, a series of random volleys which Blades had been well able to miss. And then - of course – the other copter swept in with his usual dramatic flair.
Which was what Blades had been half hoping for. Except that it hadn’t really turned out the way he’d planned. There was no full on aerial battle, from which he emerged battered but victorious. Vortex had simply manoeuvred around behind him and laughed, talking in that infuriating drawl of his. // So you’re up for a fight then, bad boy?//
// I’ll kill you! // Blades had said.
There was more laughter. // I don’t think so! However, I’m not going to deal with you this time, because you seem to have damaged my team mate and he needs my help. But that’s all right. It can wait. Perhaps you should go away now and play with your toy guns and think about it ... //
And he’d swept away down to attend to the wailing Swindle; a joke, seeing as how he didn’t even like the jeep. By all accounts.
// I mean it! // Blades had yelled. // You got in wrong, psycho, You’re dead! // And he’d fired at the pair of them, putting a hole through one of Vortex’s blades and attracting more flack from the tank - who he’d forgotten about - but which he’d easily dodged.
And despite the fact that the other ‘copter had laughed even harder, he could have gone in and done it, despite the tank, before Vortex took off with Swindle. except that just then there’d been the sound of a plane in the sky and Powerglide had commed. // Blades – orders to disengage and return to base .... // which was pathetic, seeing as how the red plane went on about what a tough guy he was.
****
Blades arrived at the base and deposited the humans, who clambered out of the cage as he hovered and departed without even a ‘thank you.’ First Aid was waiting, and he ushered them towards the nearby building. Blades heard sputtering, and the sound one always heard when a human was purging it’s tanks. Which wouldn’t please First Aid. Blades knew.
But as always, the medic showed no sign of annoyance. // You’re doing a good job // was all he said, softly. // I expect you can probably turn in now. //
// Negative. I’m going to look for a dog! // Blades screamed the revs up on his engine, taking off again in a flurry and wind which caused bits of human clothing and other paraphernalia to fly up around him and lodge in a nearby tree.
He caught sight of First Aid’s dismayed face and the humans looking decidedly the worse for wear as he swept away. But he was not in the mood for feeling guilty.
*****
How good would it be to be Vortex? Blades thought angrily as he sped in the direction of Area 5. To go where he wanted and do what he liked. To be authorised to fight and do damage, to show no mercy with the enemy; to be as heavy handed as the occasion demanded. As if there would be recriminations from Megatron, or ‘little talks” from Onslaught about being ‘overenthusiastic!’
And the other copter had done a great deal of damage, Blades reflected bitterly as he drew over Area 5, also flooded but with small islands here and there where the ground was higher than in the more devastated zones. He has done a lot of damage, and continues to, and I’m not even allowed to think about retaliation. Even though I’m of the same prototype!
Take it away, ‘copter !
It was the story of his life! Blades tried to think about Vortex with a cage of humans swinging beneath him on the way to a rescue base. It didn’t compute.
And it was worse, he thought as he engaged autoscanners, programming in organic ... canine so he did not have to pay too much actual attention to the task. Despite what the ‘Bots might say, despite their ‘protestations,’ an air of mystique surrounded the Combaticon. Every time there was an encounter or a capture or a near miss, everyone went on about it in hushed tones, regurgitating for the umpteenth time what a travesty it was that Vortex had been allowed to remain free, how difficult it had made their task, how one of these days justice would prevail when really, Blades surmised, they all wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end and were secretly thrilled at the idea.
And some of them deliberately put themselves in the position! Blades was sure of it. to do what you want and have whoever you want, whenever! Why was it that the universe had bestowed this apparent priviledge on his counterpart and not even an inkling of the same upon him!"
“They think you’re ‘something’, too!” First Aid had said. “They see you as a bit like him. But a milder more Autobot-like version.”
That had made him so angry he could hardly speak.
“They see me as nothing like him!" he had yelled. "To them I’m like - a naughty sparkling! To be patted on the head and told to behave myself!”
“Can you imagine me hauling 'cons in and interrogating them?” he’d gone on, despite the sorrowful look on his team mate’s faceplates. “I wouldn’t even be allowed to suggest it! And if I did, everybody would laugh at me. Including you!”
And First Aid had laid his hand on his arm, but he’d stormed off, not wishing to continue the conversation.
A barking sound issued from below. Turning his attention to the wet wasteland below, Blades sensors picked up the dog among some trees on one of the islands. // Subject located! // he radioed to Streetwise.
// Hey – good work! I got the owners here. D’you think you could just – pick him up and bring him in? His name’s ‘Rover,’ and they reckon he’ll get in the cage, no problem! //
// Sure! // said Blades, his denta gritted within his alt form.
*****
The dog kept up a infernal and infuriating yapping, but thankfully there were no more requests from Streetwise. Or anybody else. Nevertheless, Blades felt little better. As he neared the base, the copter vowed to himself that come what may there was going to be a showdown. It didn’t matter what they thought or said, it was what he was made for. His - destiny. As much as ever it would be Vortex’s.
“What was it Prime was always meant to come out with in the worst conflicts with Megatron? One shall stand, one shall fall ?
You had better believe it! vowed Blades as he revved his engine and, increasing rotorspeed, soared gracefully in the direction of the base, the cage still swinging below.
