Prompt #4 Response
Mar. 6th, 2011 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ayngelcatTitle: A win-win situation
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Characters: Starscream, Bombshell, set just before the Combaticon incarceration.
Warnings: One mild sexual reference.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story.
Notes: This ties in with this and this which are part of a longer fic about Combaticons and Insecticons, and how it was Bombshell who performed the procedure which put the Combaticons in the Box. But you don't have to have read those to follow this!
And thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ultharkitty for this amazing icon!
A Win-Win Situation
Starscream had to face facts. Megatron was hell bent on having this Bombshell character perform the personality component separation on the Combaticons. Which meant that the Combaticons would stay alive …. and would always, forever, at any time, be able to tell Megatron of his own involvement in their treachery.
The Seeker’s tanks churned again. It was horrendous! Especially with this plan to 'bring Swindle out' every now and then as a hologram for information!
Well there was nothing for it. He would just have to 'talk' to the insecticon. Figure out a way of ‘persuading him’ to erase all traces of the memory of his ‘deeds’ from the minds of the Combaticons when he did ‘the procedure.’
Not by force, of course. The *zap* Starscream had gotten from Shrapnel in the ‘demonstration' by the insecticons that no assistance would be required for the restraint of the Combaticons was still causing havoc with his gyros, and his head still ached like the pit where the cerebroshell had fired in. No. It would have to be - by much more subtle means.
The task was to think of the sort of stunt Swindle would pull …..
Starscream sat down with his chin in his hand to give the matter some thought.
…………………..
The insecticon worked away in his preparations. In front of him was a large medberth with hefty looking restraints. On a table next to it, a collection of tools were laid out – scalpels, pliers, welders. Behind them sat a large and forbidding looking Box.
Starscream winced as Megatron’s words came back. “Any more trouble from you, Starscream, and you will be joining the Combaticons in ‘storage.’ Do I make myself clear?” Starscream swallowed, hard.
“So – uh – I’ve always found insecticon history especially intriguing,” he lied. Luckily he did know a fair bit about it. Sometimes the Iacon education wasn’t always wasted. But history - especially 'off world' history - had generally been excruciating. “The third dynasty and the approach to the Arachnid wars is a particularly interesting period!” he said.
Bombshell grunted, getting out a large hammer and chisel and laying them beside the other tools. . “I regret that it is not exactly my favourite topic of conversation, Seeker!” he said. “After my companions and I left Electraan, our worlds were besieged again by the Arachnids, and the bits and pieces of information I have received across the universal bond, we did not fare well!”
“Really?” Now Starscream really was quite interested, as the Seeker felt in his circuits the rumblings of an an opportunity approaching. “That must have been – er - disappointing!”
Bombshell flicked open a laser scalpel and held it up to the light. “Shrapnel was deposed, you see!” he said. “ As the principal procreator. And I was removed as the Queen’s most senior advisor. Those who took our places were in cahoots with our enemies the Arachnids! The Queen and the other advisors were – alas - too misguided to see it.”
Activating the scalpel blade, Bombshell drew it across the side of the trolley, where It cut a gash in the metal. He shook his head. “If they had only listened! I was very meticulous in my advice Starscream! As meticulous as I am when I test these scalpels!” Snapping off the beam, he put the instrument back on the trolley.
“Tch tch tch!” A sympathetic look came onto the Seeker’s faceplates. “It’s always so - disappointing when the one in command won’t listen to his most intelligent counsel!”
Bombshell nodded. “Indeed,” the insecticon said, opening another container from which he removed a small saw. “But never mind.” He said, examining it. “The three of us survived and we are strongly representative of our castes and functions. One day the insecticons will rise again and smite down the Arachnid empire once and for all!”
“Well that sounds like a plan!” Starscream exclaimed. “May I wish you the greatest of success with your endeavours, Bombshell.” And then a smile spread over his faceplates. “There may come a time, of course, when a little - er - assistance - from the Decepticons could be most useful!”
…………….
“Now let’s get this straight!” said Bombshell. “You are promising to pledge the whole of the Decepticon army when it is under your leadership to insecticon aid against the Arachnids at some future time when I may want to call upon it, in exchange for certain information about yourself being removed from the Combaticons’ processors?”
Starscream drew himself up, his wings twitching resolutely. “Yes!” he said. “It’s a win-win situation!”
He is a fool!thought Bombshell. Mad! He has no idea what he would be getting the Decepticons into. If, indeed, he is ever even in a position to do so.
Nevertheless, it was an interesting offer, and one which the insecticon decided, very quickly, was certainly most worth keeping up his sleeve. Even if it did turn out to be somewhat one sided.
“Consider it done!” Bombshell said.
But the Seeker immediately looked suspicious. “Is that it?” he said.
Bombshell frowned over his mask. “What more do you want?”
“Well I don’t know! Something in writing – perhaps. Something which means you have to do it! Otherwise, how will I know if you have?”
The insecticon considered for a moment, his single horn twitching as if with a life of it’s own. Starscream did have a point. And never mind what Bombshell was supposed to do, failing to secure the services of the seeker was most out of kilter with Insecticon protocols.
“I have a better idea!” he said.
…………………..
“Hold out your hand!” Said the insecticon. “We will seal our obligation in the Insecticon way – which, believe me, will make it one hundred per cent impossible for me to back down on your request.”
Starscream could not believe his luck. No more worries about the Combaticons! Swindle could say what he’d liked – there’s be a big yawning gap where any place in the skulduggery about he, Starscream, had used to be. As there would in all of their miserable Combaticon processors! Without hesitation, he held out his hand.
The insecticon grasped it; and instantly a little door flew upon on his wrist and connection emerged with a sharp, arrow shaped end. It waved above Starscream’s arm like a snake and then paused, hovering, before plunging in.
Starscream flinched, letting out a little cry. It was partly the sudden sharp pain and partly the sheer surprise! And the device obviously jacked straight in to some crucial part of his neural relays, because a file suddenly opened in his HUD entitled: Starscream and Bombshell/binding agreement/Cybertron. Followed by the date.
Then, as the Seeker’s optics widened, the cable began to twitch, and then to spark and crackle as little blue lines of energy swirled around the Insecticon’s arm. Inside Starscream’s arm, his neural pathways tingled, sending sensations across his sensor net which he had to admit – even though the circumstances were hardly appropriate - were not unpleasant at all.
“I Bombshell, senior advisor to the four millionth five hundred and forty three thousandth queen of Electraan, solemnly promise that I will remove all memories of your involvement with the Combaticons in the lead up to their incarceration, “ the insecticon proclaimed.
Starscream watched, fascinated as the words appeared in the file. But a warning then flashed ‘input required.’
“You must now pledge your side of the bargain,” said Bombshell. “Or the agreement is null and void!”
“Yes of course!” said Starscream. And gathering himself as articulately as he could, he said:
“I Starscream, future leader of the Decepticons, solemnly promise that when I am rightfully leader, you may call upon the Decepticons at any time for help against the unspeakable scourge which torments and destroys the insecticons. Their enemies, the Arachnids!”
Starscream felt the circuits in his own arm crackle as more blue energy buzzed around the cable. He felt rather proud. He was sure that his little ‘delivery’ there more than satisfied the requirements of the ‘Insecticon way.’
And, the seeker thought slyly, it was, after all, laughably unlikely that anything would ever come of 'his' side of this. And even if it did: I’ve said nothing about after we’ve helped them. Who knows – we could be in a prime position to pillage this Electraan afterwards and plunder its resources, just as we usually do.
As before, the words appeared in the file, together with a new message “Agreement complete.” But that was not all. A small submessage appeared underneath the main one: Terms entered to central insecticon processing databank. Contents registered. Assassins notified. The connection gave a last crackle before ejecting from Starscream’s arm, disappearing back into the compartment in Bombshell’s which snapped shut.
The insecticon made a pleased sounding noise. “Done!” he said. “As you said, Starscream – a win-win situation!”
“Err – yes …” Starscream said slowly. “And – uh – a good job too, if I may say so, Bombshell. I always say it pays to cooperate with fellow species!”
The insecticon nodded, returning to his trolley. Starscream frowned. “There was only one thing though. What was that last part about?”
Bombshell chuckled. “Oh the Universal Insecticon Bond is a strange and complex web, Starscream. It registers many things, including such undertakings. All that means is that should either of us fail to keep up our side of the bargain, one day we’ll be hunted down and killed. Obligations are important to the fabric of insecticon culture, however trivial!” He paused, arranging the lasers in a very straight, depressingly deadly looking line. “Dragonfly assassins. Very thorough in their work, actually …”
“But it wouldn’t be for a good few million years, so I wouldn’t worry about it!” the insecticon went on, fetching a large cloth and spreading it across the prepared instruments. “ In the meantime – I have a separation procedure to perform tomorrow! And you can rest easy, knowing I’ll do what I said I’d do”
“Yes!” said Starscream, extremely happy again. He decided to forget all about assassins, or anything else sinister about the agreement or insecticons (it was undoubtedly all just primitive hocus pocus anyway). Instead, he squeed inside at the prospect of Megatron never knowing.
“I shall look forward to it, Believe me!” he said with relish. And then with a spring to his step, he swept out of the room.
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Characters: Starscream, Bombshell, set just before the Combaticon incarceration.
Warnings: One mild sexual reference.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or any of the characters or scenarios from the series within this story.
Notes: This ties in with this and this which are part of a longer fic about Combaticons and Insecticons, and how it was Bombshell who performed the procedure which put the Combaticons in the Box. But you don't have to have read those to follow this!
And thanks to
ultharkitty for this amazing icon!A Win-Win Situation
Starscream had to face facts. Megatron was hell bent on having this Bombshell character perform the personality component separation on the Combaticons. Which meant that the Combaticons would stay alive …. and would always, forever, at any time, be able to tell Megatron of his own involvement in their treachery.
The Seeker’s tanks churned again. It was horrendous! Especially with this plan to 'bring Swindle out' every now and then as a hologram for information!
Well there was nothing for it. He would just have to 'talk' to the insecticon. Figure out a way of ‘persuading him’ to erase all traces of the memory of his ‘deeds’ from the minds of the Combaticons when he did ‘the procedure.’
Not by force, of course. The *zap* Starscream had gotten from Shrapnel in the ‘demonstration' by the insecticons that no assistance would be required for the restraint of the Combaticons was still causing havoc with his gyros, and his head still ached like the pit where the cerebroshell had fired in. No. It would have to be - by much more subtle means.
The task was to think of the sort of stunt Swindle would pull …..
Starscream sat down with his chin in his hand to give the matter some thought.
…………………..
The insecticon worked away in his preparations. In front of him was a large medberth with hefty looking restraints. On a table next to it, a collection of tools were laid out – scalpels, pliers, welders. Behind them sat a large and forbidding looking Box.
Starscream winced as Megatron’s words came back. “Any more trouble from you, Starscream, and you will be joining the Combaticons in ‘storage.’ Do I make myself clear?” Starscream swallowed, hard.
“So – uh – I’ve always found insecticon history especially intriguing,” he lied. Luckily he did know a fair bit about it. Sometimes the Iacon education wasn’t always wasted. But history - especially 'off world' history - had generally been excruciating. “The third dynasty and the approach to the Arachnid wars is a particularly interesting period!” he said.
Bombshell grunted, getting out a large hammer and chisel and laying them beside the other tools. . “I regret that it is not exactly my favourite topic of conversation, Seeker!” he said. “After my companions and I left Electraan, our worlds were besieged again by the Arachnids, and the bits and pieces of information I have received across the universal bond, we did not fare well!”
“Really?” Now Starscream really was quite interested, as the Seeker felt in his circuits the rumblings of an an opportunity approaching. “That must have been – er - disappointing!”
Bombshell flicked open a laser scalpel and held it up to the light. “Shrapnel was deposed, you see!” he said. “ As the principal procreator. And I was removed as the Queen’s most senior advisor. Those who took our places were in cahoots with our enemies the Arachnids! The Queen and the other advisors were – alas - too misguided to see it.”
Activating the scalpel blade, Bombshell drew it across the side of the trolley, where It cut a gash in the metal. He shook his head. “If they had only listened! I was very meticulous in my advice Starscream! As meticulous as I am when I test these scalpels!” Snapping off the beam, he put the instrument back on the trolley.
“Tch tch tch!” A sympathetic look came onto the Seeker’s faceplates. “It’s always so - disappointing when the one in command won’t listen to his most intelligent counsel!”
Bombshell nodded. “Indeed,” the insecticon said, opening another container from which he removed a small saw. “But never mind.” He said, examining it. “The three of us survived and we are strongly representative of our castes and functions. One day the insecticons will rise again and smite down the Arachnid empire once and for all!”
“Well that sounds like a plan!” Starscream exclaimed. “May I wish you the greatest of success with your endeavours, Bombshell.” And then a smile spread over his faceplates. “There may come a time, of course, when a little - er - assistance - from the Decepticons could be most useful!”
…………….
“Now let’s get this straight!” said Bombshell. “You are promising to pledge the whole of the Decepticon army when it is under your leadership to insecticon aid against the Arachnids at some future time when I may want to call upon it, in exchange for certain information about yourself being removed from the Combaticons’ processors?”
Starscream drew himself up, his wings twitching resolutely. “Yes!” he said. “It’s a win-win situation!”
He is a fool!thought Bombshell. Mad! He has no idea what he would be getting the Decepticons into. If, indeed, he is ever even in a position to do so.
Nevertheless, it was an interesting offer, and one which the insecticon decided, very quickly, was certainly most worth keeping up his sleeve. Even if it did turn out to be somewhat one sided.
“Consider it done!” Bombshell said.
But the Seeker immediately looked suspicious. “Is that it?” he said.
Bombshell frowned over his mask. “What more do you want?”
“Well I don’t know! Something in writing – perhaps. Something which means you have to do it! Otherwise, how will I know if you have?”
The insecticon considered for a moment, his single horn twitching as if with a life of it’s own. Starscream did have a point. And never mind what Bombshell was supposed to do, failing to secure the services of the seeker was most out of kilter with Insecticon protocols.
“I have a better idea!” he said.
…………………..
“Hold out your hand!” Said the insecticon. “We will seal our obligation in the Insecticon way – which, believe me, will make it one hundred per cent impossible for me to back down on your request.”
Starscream could not believe his luck. No more worries about the Combaticons! Swindle could say what he’d liked – there’s be a big yawning gap where any place in the skulduggery about he, Starscream, had used to be. As there would in all of their miserable Combaticon processors! Without hesitation, he held out his hand.
The insecticon grasped it; and instantly a little door flew upon on his wrist and connection emerged with a sharp, arrow shaped end. It waved above Starscream’s arm like a snake and then paused, hovering, before plunging in.
Starscream flinched, letting out a little cry. It was partly the sudden sharp pain and partly the sheer surprise! And the device obviously jacked straight in to some crucial part of his neural relays, because a file suddenly opened in his HUD entitled: Starscream and Bombshell/binding agreement/Cybertron. Followed by the date.
Then, as the Seeker’s optics widened, the cable began to twitch, and then to spark and crackle as little blue lines of energy swirled around the Insecticon’s arm. Inside Starscream’s arm, his neural pathways tingled, sending sensations across his sensor net which he had to admit – even though the circumstances were hardly appropriate - were not unpleasant at all.
“I Bombshell, senior advisor to the four millionth five hundred and forty three thousandth queen of Electraan, solemnly promise that I will remove all memories of your involvement with the Combaticons in the lead up to their incarceration, “ the insecticon proclaimed.
Starscream watched, fascinated as the words appeared in the file. But a warning then flashed ‘input required.’
“You must now pledge your side of the bargain,” said Bombshell. “Or the agreement is null and void!”
“Yes of course!” said Starscream. And gathering himself as articulately as he could, he said:
“I Starscream, future leader of the Decepticons, solemnly promise that when I am rightfully leader, you may call upon the Decepticons at any time for help against the unspeakable scourge which torments and destroys the insecticons. Their enemies, the Arachnids!”
Starscream felt the circuits in his own arm crackle as more blue energy buzzed around the cable. He felt rather proud. He was sure that his little ‘delivery’ there more than satisfied the requirements of the ‘Insecticon way.’
And, the seeker thought slyly, it was, after all, laughably unlikely that anything would ever come of 'his' side of this. And even if it did: I’ve said nothing about after we’ve helped them. Who knows – we could be in a prime position to pillage this Electraan afterwards and plunder its resources, just as we usually do.
As before, the words appeared in the file, together with a new message “Agreement complete.” But that was not all. A small submessage appeared underneath the main one: Terms entered to central insecticon processing databank. Contents registered. Assassins notified. The connection gave a last crackle before ejecting from Starscream’s arm, disappearing back into the compartment in Bombshell’s which snapped shut.
The insecticon made a pleased sounding noise. “Done!” he said. “As you said, Starscream – a win-win situation!”
“Err – yes …” Starscream said slowly. “And – uh – a good job too, if I may say so, Bombshell. I always say it pays to cooperate with fellow species!”
The insecticon nodded, returning to his trolley. Starscream frowned. “There was only one thing though. What was that last part about?”
Bombshell chuckled. “Oh the Universal Insecticon Bond is a strange and complex web, Starscream. It registers many things, including such undertakings. All that means is that should either of us fail to keep up our side of the bargain, one day we’ll be hunted down and killed. Obligations are important to the fabric of insecticon culture, however trivial!” He paused, arranging the lasers in a very straight, depressingly deadly looking line. “Dragonfly assassins. Very thorough in their work, actually …”
“But it wouldn’t be for a good few million years, so I wouldn’t worry about it!” the insecticon went on, fetching a large cloth and spreading it across the prepared instruments. “ In the meantime – I have a separation procedure to perform tomorrow! And you can rest easy, knowing I’ll do what I said I’d do”
“Yes!” said Starscream, extremely happy again. He decided to forget all about assassins, or anything else sinister about the agreement or insecticons (it was undoubtedly all just primitive hocus pocus anyway). Instead, he squeed inside at the prospect of Megatron never knowing.
“I shall look forward to it, Believe me!” he said with relish. And then with a spring to his step, he swept out of the room.
