dunmurderin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dunmurderin) wrote2007-07-27 04:28 pm
dunmurderin) wrote2007-07-27 04:28 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfic -- Untitled (On-Vacation Combaticons; AU)
Title: Untitled; written for On-Vacation Combaticons, with Girl-Brawl
Originally Posted: December 31, 2006
Characters: Minicon Swindle, Girl!Brawl, Armada/Energon/Cybertron-style Combaticons (I suppose technically they’d be OCs)
Word Count approximately 1530 words
Rating: G/gen
Author’s Note: Kinda/sorta takes place in an Armada/Energon/Cybertron-like universe, technically at some point between Armada and Energon. Should be noted, I’ve never seen any episodes of Armada, and only a few of Energon and Cybertron and I have played fast and loose with what I do understand about canon. Information about Swindle and Starscream came from Wikipedia, Teletraan-1, the Transformers Wikipedia, Sieberwing and Koilungfish. Any inaccuracies in the story are entirely my fault. The Gu’adal Canal pun is there because Amy said I should send the Combaticons back to Guadalcanal for vacation.
# # #
It was at times like this, when he was locked in a cage and hanging like a decoration in a seedy spaceport bar, that Swindle tried to remain philosophical about life. On the one hand, he was a combination prisoner/piece of bar flair; on the other, energoodies were plentiful and the house band didn't suck.
Besides, the bar was a wealth of information. Located off the Gu'adal Canal, it was one of the closest dives to the spaceport and as such, tended to attract more than its fair share of spacers. Members of every race and species walked, rolled, flew or slithered through the doors, talking about everything and anything -- and paying no attention whatsoever to the tiny red robot in the plastisteel box who was taking it all in and storing it away against the day when he would make his escape.
Which would happen someday. Soon. But for now, he was well-fed and taken care of so why bother changing the status quo just yet?
Officially, he was Siphon’s ‘pet’ -- like the larval slarg kept in a tank on the bar at the Shattered Chain across the road. Unofficially, he was Siphon’s ace in the hole -- like the Shattered Chain’s .50 cal machine guns. If things got too rowdy, Siphon would give the signal to open the cage and he and Swindle would power-link and make things less rowdy.
In the mean time, all Swindle had to do was sit back, relax and watch the world go by. And, thankfully, most of that world did not include other Cybertronians.
Inevitably when a Cybertronian did make planet-fall, they’d end up at Siphon’s and generally someone would recognize Swindle for what he was -- one of the few minicons who hadn‘t been reabsorbed into Unicron. And invariably, they’d make a bid for him -- and if Siphon was in the mood to scam a little extra cash, the deal would be made and Swindle sold. With the understanding being that Swindle would then break away from his buyer before their ship took off and, once the sucker was off-planet, make his way back to Siphon’s bar to await the next go-round.
He was rocking back and forth in his cage when their latest mark walked in. She was big -- a Mega-class tankformer decked out in matte-finished blue-green armor highlighted with gloss-black swirls and loops. A purple Decepticon symbol was centered on her chest and matched the purple of her optics. She radiated power-junkie from the top of her bullet-shaped helm to the bottoms of her spiky-treaded feet.
Swindle whistled a radio call to Siphon as he stood up and watched the large femme approach the bar. Her name was Brawl. He’d spotted her two days before when she’d come in with one of her teammates -- a flighty boatformer named Vortex. They’d started a fracas with a pair of Xertian Rock-lords that had escalated so quickly, Siphon had had no choice but to bring Swindle in to play.
After the fight, Brawl and her partner had tried to make nice with Siphon; like a lot of bigger bulks, Brawl had reacted to defeat by immediately trying to make friends with the person who’d defeated her. Of course, the reason for her attempts at friendship was pretty obvious.
“I’ll give you five hundred energon chips for the minicon,” she’d said, rubbing Swindle‘s shoulder wheels as she‘d talked. “He’s wasted out here; lemme take him off your hands an’ I could get some real use out of him.”
Siphon had made largely non-committal noises at Brawl, finally letting himself be talked into thinking about it. Swindle, for his part, had been instructed to court Brawl, to see if he could drive the price up. So, he’d played her like a drum; he’d whistled and wheedled at her, acting as if she were the center of his entire existence.
And he’d felt dirty the entire time he’d done it, knowing that Starscream would have considered the entire display beneath even a minicon’s dignity.
Well, so what? Starscream was dead and he was alone and soon he’d have earned Siphon enough extra cash for it to actually be worth stealing. And then, he’d get his tiny aft off this rock and far away from anyone who might want to hurt him.
If he had to sacrifice a little dignity for that, then so be it.
“I’m telling you, Brawl,” said Vortex as the two approached the bar. “Onslaught is not gonna like this; you know how he is about pets.”
“An’ I keep telling you, y’idiot, he’s not a pet, he’s an investment.” Brawl rested a finger against Swindle’s cage, tapping the plastisteel. “You saw what he could do; the little guy’s power, power we can use.”
“You can use, you mean.” Vortex studied Swindle, his yellow-orange optics flat. “You know you’re not gonna share.”
“’Course not!” Brawl said, slipping a finger into the cage’s feeding port to rub the top of Swindle’s head. The happy sounds he made weren‘t entirely faked; the bulk femme had a knack for hitting his itchy spots. “I’m buyin’ him out of my share, not company funds. You guys all got souvenirs, no reason why I can’t too. Besides, he’s a damn sight more useful than that sculpture you picked up.”
“Hey, that’s an original imitation reproduction of a Charlatan fake of a copy of a Raze masterwork!” Vortex said, huffily. “It has style -- that does not.”
“Who gives a slag about style?” Brawl asked. “He’s gonna give me the boost I need in combat; he could be Autobot blue for all I care! Bartender! Get over here! I’m here to make my final offer!”
Siphon stepped over to the bar, looking evenly at Brawl. Or rather, up at Brawl. “My asking price is a thousand energon chips,” Siphon said. “Not about to settle for anything less, so unless you have the cash, we’re done.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Brawl said as her main guns whined to life, causing nearby patrons to scatter. “See, I thought about it and I’m offering to take the minicon off your hands an’ leave your bar still standing when I go. You don’t let me take him, I’m gonna wreck this place an’ take him anyway. All depends on how reasonable you want to be.”
Swindle tensed, waiting for the signal that would open his cage so he could merge with Siphon. Brawl wasn’t the first person to try such a heavy-handed tactic; usually, all it took was a show of force on his and Siphon’s part to show that such things were ill-advised. Unfortunately, Brawl looked like the type who didn’t care how ill-advised something was if it stood in the way of what she wanted.
“Oh yeah, Ons is gonna love this,” Vortex sighed, stepping back from the bar and drawing his own guns. “He’s yelling over the radio now, Brawl. You better answer.”
“Slaggit, we’re outta here,” Brawl yanked Swindle’s cage down and tucked it inside her turret as she transformed. Swindle heard her main guns firing, followed by the sound of Siphon being hit. He braced himself, mind working frantically as he tried to figure an escape route. Getting out of his cage would be easy enough, but by now Brawl was moving fast.
He could hear Vortex and Brawl arguing as they made their way back toward the spaceport, the two slowing only once they were inside a ship.
Brawl skidded to a stop, transforming and catching Swindle’s cage in mid-air as she rose up in front of a large mech who stood with his arms crossed and optics dimmed. He wasn’t quite as tall as Brawl was, but there was an unmistakable air of command about him. Brawl looked down at him.
“Better tell Blast Off to get us skybound,” she said, speaking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Port Authority ain’t gonna be too happy with us.”
“Us nothing,” Vortex said. “You shot up that bar; I was just defending myself against people assuming we were together. And all because you wanted a stupid trinket.”
“A powerful trinket,” Brawl said, holding up Swindle’s cage. “This is what I told you about, Onslaught. He’s gonna up my firepower a good fifty, seventy-five percent, guaranteed. We’re gonna be unbeatable.”
“He’d better,” Onslaught said, turning to head toward the bridge. “Otherwise, I’d be tempted to leave you here to the Port Authority’s tender mercies. Blast Off, take us up -- we won’t be coming back here for a while.”
Blast Off didn’t turn from where he sat, plugged into the ship’s systems. “Wonderful, our darling gunner did it again, I take it? We’re rapidly running out of safe ports in this sector of space, Onslaught.”
“Aww, there’s better places for R and R,” Brawl said, following Onslaught in. “Monacus, for one. It’s not a oil speck like this place is.” She held Swindle’s cage in front of her face. “Gonna take you there, little man and show you all the sights.”
Swindle whistled an acknowledgement, feeling the roar of the ship’s engine vibrate through Brawl’s hands as the ship lifted off. An old minicon proverb tickled the back of his mind: “Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss.”
Originally Posted: December 31, 2006
Characters: Minicon Swindle, Girl!Brawl, Armada/Energon/Cybertron-style Combaticons (I suppose technically they’d be OCs)
Word Count approximately 1530 words
Rating: G/gen
Author’s Note: Kinda/sorta takes place in an Armada/Energon/Cybertron-like universe, technically at some point between Armada and Energon. Should be noted, I’ve never seen any episodes of Armada, and only a few of Energon and Cybertron and I have played fast and loose with what I do understand about canon. Information about Swindle and Starscream came from Wikipedia, Teletraan-1, the Transformers Wikipedia, Sieberwing and Koilungfish. Any inaccuracies in the story are entirely my fault. The Gu’adal Canal pun is there because Amy said I should send the Combaticons back to Guadalcanal for vacation.
It was at times like this, when he was locked in a cage and hanging like a decoration in a seedy spaceport bar, that Swindle tried to remain philosophical about life. On the one hand, he was a combination prisoner/piece of bar flair; on the other, energoodies were plentiful and the house band didn't suck.
Besides, the bar was a wealth of information. Located off the Gu'adal Canal, it was one of the closest dives to the spaceport and as such, tended to attract more than its fair share of spacers. Members of every race and species walked, rolled, flew or slithered through the doors, talking about everything and anything -- and paying no attention whatsoever to the tiny red robot in the plastisteel box who was taking it all in and storing it away against the day when he would make his escape.
Which would happen someday. Soon. But for now, he was well-fed and taken care of so why bother changing the status quo just yet?
Officially, he was Siphon’s ‘pet’ -- like the larval slarg kept in a tank on the bar at the Shattered Chain across the road. Unofficially, he was Siphon’s ace in the hole -- like the Shattered Chain’s .50 cal machine guns. If things got too rowdy, Siphon would give the signal to open the cage and he and Swindle would power-link and make things less rowdy.
In the mean time, all Swindle had to do was sit back, relax and watch the world go by. And, thankfully, most of that world did not include other Cybertronians.
Inevitably when a Cybertronian did make planet-fall, they’d end up at Siphon’s and generally someone would recognize Swindle for what he was -- one of the few minicons who hadn‘t been reabsorbed into Unicron. And invariably, they’d make a bid for him -- and if Siphon was in the mood to scam a little extra cash, the deal would be made and Swindle sold. With the understanding being that Swindle would then break away from his buyer before their ship took off and, once the sucker was off-planet, make his way back to Siphon’s bar to await the next go-round.
He was rocking back and forth in his cage when their latest mark walked in. She was big -- a Mega-class tankformer decked out in matte-finished blue-green armor highlighted with gloss-black swirls and loops. A purple Decepticon symbol was centered on her chest and matched the purple of her optics. She radiated power-junkie from the top of her bullet-shaped helm to the bottoms of her spiky-treaded feet.
Swindle whistled a radio call to Siphon as he stood up and watched the large femme approach the bar. Her name was Brawl. He’d spotted her two days before when she’d come in with one of her teammates -- a flighty boatformer named Vortex. They’d started a fracas with a pair of Xertian Rock-lords that had escalated so quickly, Siphon had had no choice but to bring Swindle in to play.
After the fight, Brawl and her partner had tried to make nice with Siphon; like a lot of bigger bulks, Brawl had reacted to defeat by immediately trying to make friends with the person who’d defeated her. Of course, the reason for her attempts at friendship was pretty obvious.
“I’ll give you five hundred energon chips for the minicon,” she’d said, rubbing Swindle‘s shoulder wheels as she‘d talked. “He’s wasted out here; lemme take him off your hands an’ I could get some real use out of him.”
Siphon had made largely non-committal noises at Brawl, finally letting himself be talked into thinking about it. Swindle, for his part, had been instructed to court Brawl, to see if he could drive the price up. So, he’d played her like a drum; he’d whistled and wheedled at her, acting as if she were the center of his entire existence.
And he’d felt dirty the entire time he’d done it, knowing that Starscream would have considered the entire display beneath even a minicon’s dignity.
Well, so what? Starscream was dead and he was alone and soon he’d have earned Siphon enough extra cash for it to actually be worth stealing. And then, he’d get his tiny aft off this rock and far away from anyone who might want to hurt him.
If he had to sacrifice a little dignity for that, then so be it.
“I’m telling you, Brawl,” said Vortex as the two approached the bar. “Onslaught is not gonna like this; you know how he is about pets.”
“An’ I keep telling you, y’idiot, he’s not a pet, he’s an investment.” Brawl rested a finger against Swindle’s cage, tapping the plastisteel. “You saw what he could do; the little guy’s power, power we can use.”
“You can use, you mean.” Vortex studied Swindle, his yellow-orange optics flat. “You know you’re not gonna share.”
“’Course not!” Brawl said, slipping a finger into the cage’s feeding port to rub the top of Swindle’s head. The happy sounds he made weren‘t entirely faked; the bulk femme had a knack for hitting his itchy spots. “I’m buyin’ him out of my share, not company funds. You guys all got souvenirs, no reason why I can’t too. Besides, he’s a damn sight more useful than that sculpture you picked up.”
“Hey, that’s an original imitation reproduction of a Charlatan fake of a copy of a Raze masterwork!” Vortex said, huffily. “It has style -- that does not.”
“Who gives a slag about style?” Brawl asked. “He’s gonna give me the boost I need in combat; he could be Autobot blue for all I care! Bartender! Get over here! I’m here to make my final offer!”
Siphon stepped over to the bar, looking evenly at Brawl. Or rather, up at Brawl. “My asking price is a thousand energon chips,” Siphon said. “Not about to settle for anything less, so unless you have the cash, we’re done.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Brawl said as her main guns whined to life, causing nearby patrons to scatter. “See, I thought about it and I’m offering to take the minicon off your hands an’ leave your bar still standing when I go. You don’t let me take him, I’m gonna wreck this place an’ take him anyway. All depends on how reasonable you want to be.”
Swindle tensed, waiting for the signal that would open his cage so he could merge with Siphon. Brawl wasn’t the first person to try such a heavy-handed tactic; usually, all it took was a show of force on his and Siphon’s part to show that such things were ill-advised. Unfortunately, Brawl looked like the type who didn’t care how ill-advised something was if it stood in the way of what she wanted.
“Oh yeah, Ons is gonna love this,” Vortex sighed, stepping back from the bar and drawing his own guns. “He’s yelling over the radio now, Brawl. You better answer.”
“Slaggit, we’re outta here,” Brawl yanked Swindle’s cage down and tucked it inside her turret as she transformed. Swindle heard her main guns firing, followed by the sound of Siphon being hit. He braced himself, mind working frantically as he tried to figure an escape route. Getting out of his cage would be easy enough, but by now Brawl was moving fast.
He could hear Vortex and Brawl arguing as they made their way back toward the spaceport, the two slowing only once they were inside a ship.
Brawl skidded to a stop, transforming and catching Swindle’s cage in mid-air as she rose up in front of a large mech who stood with his arms crossed and optics dimmed. He wasn’t quite as tall as Brawl was, but there was an unmistakable air of command about him. Brawl looked down at him.
“Better tell Blast Off to get us skybound,” she said, speaking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Port Authority ain’t gonna be too happy with us.”
“Us nothing,” Vortex said. “You shot up that bar; I was just defending myself against people assuming we were together. And all because you wanted a stupid trinket.”
“A powerful trinket,” Brawl said, holding up Swindle’s cage. “This is what I told you about, Onslaught. He’s gonna up my firepower a good fifty, seventy-five percent, guaranteed. We’re gonna be unbeatable.”
“He’d better,” Onslaught said, turning to head toward the bridge. “Otherwise, I’d be tempted to leave you here to the Port Authority’s tender mercies. Blast Off, take us up -- we won’t be coming back here for a while.”
Blast Off didn’t turn from where he sat, plugged into the ship’s systems. “Wonderful, our darling gunner did it again, I take it? We’re rapidly running out of safe ports in this sector of space, Onslaught.”
“Aww, there’s better places for R and R,” Brawl said, following Onslaught in. “Monacus, for one. It’s not a oil speck like this place is.” She held Swindle’s cage in front of her face. “Gonna take you there, little man and show you all the sights.”
Swindle whistled an acknowledgement, feeling the roar of the ship’s engine vibrate through Brawl’s hands as the ship lifted off. An old minicon proverb tickled the back of his mind: “Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss.”