#I need to see which races Dani was in the comms and see if it happened more or this was coincidence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silkling · 3 years ago

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Could you please write a crossover of Rescue Bots and TFP? Rather than dying on the Nemesis, a critically injured Dreadwing fleas and crash lands on Griffin Rock. The Rescue Bots find him and nurse him back to health, not realizing he’s a Decepticon because his markings got scratched up in the fight. Dreadwing wakes up while the Rescue Bots are trying to contact Team Prime, but can’t since, unbeknownst to them, they’re all on Cybertron, fighting the Cons for the Omega Keys and Omega Lock.

So, this one turned out to be much, much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that I had to divide it into three posts. The second post will be linked at the bottom of this one, and the third will be linked at the bottom of the second. Dear god, apparently I had a lot of more thoughts about Rescue Bots than even I was aware of. Oh well. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! (FYI: most prompt fills will not be this long. This one was just so long cause I have many emotions and ideas about this scenario.)

———————————————————————————————————

Dreadwing felt the betrayal of Lord Megatron as surely as if it were just as physical a wound as the hole blown through his chest. He had heard the weapon powering up, and his war-forged battle instincts had had him diving to the side just as the fusion canon had fired. It has still torn though his chest, but rather than destroy his spark chamber the blast had torn a hole straight through the right side of his chest near his shoulder. He lived yet, but if he could not escape the Nemesis that would not be the case for much longer.

He had served Lord Megatron with loyalty and honor for millennia, ever since he and his brother had joined the Decepticons after Vos had fallen. Dreadwing had sold his very spark to the Unmaker to act on the wishes and orders of his leader, and this is what his loyalty had earned him? Megatron attempting to offline him, and protecting the mech who had desecrated his brother? The same mech who had, countless times before, betrayed Megatron himself? Dreadwing could scarcely understand it. Why would Megatron spare Starscream, who had given the warlord no true loyalty, when Dreadwing himself had been nothing but loyal? Is this what his loyalty bought him, among the Decepticons? Dishonorably killed solely for attempting to avenge his brother by killing a traitorous coward?

If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He dragged himself down the halls, finally making it to the flight deck, and looked down to see the ship flying above the ocean. Rather than attempt a proper take off, he simply pitched his body forward off the edge and allowed himself to fall. As he neared the water, he forced a transformation, ignoring the agony of the action, and his engine roared to life. Lucid thought slipped away, then, as baser survival coding took over and guided him away from the warship, away from danger, away from what would have been his death.

Only one thing was certain, now.

In attacking Dreadwing to protect Starscream, Megatron had lost the loyalty of his most devoted frontline warrior.

Dreadwing simply refused to follow a mech who would protect the one who desecrated his brother.

And so, survival protocols overriding every other thought or higher system, the large Seeker allowed his higher processor functions to shut off. His mind quieted to blissful silence. Instinct alone drove him forward, flying towards a destination even he did not know. He could only hope it would be somewhere safe.

——————————

Blades didn’t know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasn’t a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like he’d crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasn’t even supposed to be out here, as Sigma-17 had to maintain their cover, but everything at the firehouse had just been several kinds of too much that morning, so he had, for once, flown off on his own and landed on a beach he knew no humans ever really came to, intent to just take a walk and clear his head.

Except, upon coming around a bend, he’d found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, he’d simply frozen, but then the instinct ingrained by his training kicked in and he sprung into action. See, Blades was a trained and licensed triage medic. He couldn’t perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron he’d taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if he’d ever run into someone during a rescue who’d been hurt, he could treat them and keep them alive until they could get to a medical facility. The training g had been fun, especially when he’d studied with-

He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didn’t want to think about the time….Before. It hurt, remembering what and who he’d lost during his millennia of stasis. Before he could fall back into grief, training snapped back into place and his processor quieted. He knelt next to the fallen Cybertronian, noting that they were a Seeker frame, and carefully turned the bot over. His next thought was an observation that the bot was a mech, and that the energon soaking into the sand under his frame was spilling from a large hole torn straight through his chest. That meant the first thing he needed to do was seal the leaking lines to keep him from losing more energon. After that, he could call Heatwave. He didn’t have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once he’d made sure this mech wouldn’t die here and now, he would need to get him to proper care. One of the stasis pods would certainly help, though if they wanted the wound healed fully he’d need to be in the pod for a while. The other alternative was contacting Optimus. Blades knew the Prime had a proper medic on his team, which might be the better option.

As his processor raced, trying to think of a plan, his hands worked on autopilot. He slipped the tools he needed from his subspace, cleaning and removing grime where it was needed to prevent infection, removing bits of sand and stone from the wound, and using a small welder to seal off the free-flowing energon lines. He covered loose, sparking wires and circuits, , rerouting a few of them in places where it was needed. Finally, after many long minutes, he finished and sat back on his heels.

It was then the helicopter realized his comm. was pinging with an alert for an incoming message, and had been for quite some time. In fact, it seemed he’d missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, Cody…Pit, even Graham had sent him a message. Embarrassment and guilt settled heavy in his chest, and he lifted his hand to his audial to accept the current call. As soon as his comm. clicked to life, Dani’s voice was coming through it.

“Blades! Finally! Where are you? We’ve all been worried sick, you know.” his partner scolded. Blades couldn’t help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. “You know you’re not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!” she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didn’t take it personally. “What if someone had seen you? You need to-“

And now that was enough. “Dani.” he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now there’s a bigger emergency than me risking our cover. I found an inured bot on that small beach behind the mountain. You know, the one no one likes to go to because the hike is too long? He’s in a really bad way. I have triage training, and I’ve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.”

There was silence on the other end, before-

“Alright. I’ll tell everyone to come to your location. I’m with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but we’ll meet you there. Don’t move, and keep the bot alive.” Dani instructed. Despite himself, Blades was smiling again. Yes, he really did love Dani. She knew when it was time to get serious. He had a feeling he’d be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.”

“You too.” he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. “And Dani?”

“Yeah, Blades?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.

“Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Then the comm. line cut off, and Blades was left alone to in the silence. He let his processor drift, kneeling in the energon soaked sand as he worked on saving the life of a bot whose name he didn’t even know.

——————————

Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He hadn’t been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. He’d seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way he’d fidgeted around the others, seen the way his optics had slipped and gone dull and distant. He knew today was not a good day for Blades, so his disappearance had not been a surprise. He’d been mildly concerned, simply because he did not know if Blades would be able to avoid being seen in his more distracted state, but he hadn’t been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadn’t protested. He’d even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.

But then Blades had finally picked up Dani’s comm. and that was when he started to worry. A strange bot, found injured on Griffin Rock? It raised many questions. Where had they come from? Who where they? How had they been injured? Chase wasn’t worried that the bot would die. He knew Blades had triage training, so he was confident his teammate would be able to keep his unexpected patient alive. Even so, this new development raised many questions that Chase did not have the answers to, and that was what worried him. There were not many Cybertronians on Earth, he knew. Aside from Sigma-17, there was Team Prime, and….the Decepticons. As far as Chase was aware, and he admittedly did not know as much as he would like, there were no unaligned bots on the planet.

Which meant this newcomer was either one of Prime’s team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasn’t attached to either faction. It would be easy enough to confirm; they simply had to contact Prime and ask if he was missing a teammate, and if not ask if he recognized the bot in question. If this stranger was a neutral party or an Autobot, Chase knew there would be nothing to worry about. But if they were a Decepticon…well, that was the root of the police bot’s concerns. Sigma-17 was a rescue team. They knew rudimentary combat skills, enough to defend themselves or those they were rescuing in an emergency, but they were non-combatants. By the standards of the War, his team would be classified as civilians. If this new Cybertronian was a Decepticon…Chase wasn’t sure they’d be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasn’t sure they’d even be able to protect themselves.

Before he could slip even further into his own processor, they arrived at the coordinates Blades had sent. His snapped into focus, his doors popping open to allow his passengers out, and then he was transforming and walking over to where he could see Blades. As he approached his friend, he heard Boulder and Heatwave pull up behind him and transform. Blades looked up from his work when his three teammates stopped next to him, and Chase was mildly disconcerted to see the amount of energon soaking the sand and coating the copter’s hands.

“Blades, what happened?” Heatwave demanded, voice rough.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged helplessly. “I came out here for some space and to take a walk, cause I know this beach is practically abandoned, and I just found him like this.”

Indeed, this close, Chase could see that the mystery bot was in fact a mech. That answered one question, but none of the others. How irritating. It was also making him very nervous and queasy to see just how badly injured the very, very large bot was. Boulder too, seemed to feel ill at the sight of such horrible wounds and so much energon. Distantly, Chase noted that the bot might be even bigger than High Tide. He had no idea how they were supposed to get him back to the firehouse.

Heatave made a frustrated noise, clearly displeased with the lack of information though he knew Blades was not to blame. “Well can you tell how he got so injured?”

“A weapon of some sort, though not one I’ve ever seen the damage of before.” Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. “There’s also signs of older damage. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.”

Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. “…can you tell which side?”

“No. Any faction identifier or badge has been destroyed or scraped off like most of his paint. I can only just figure out what his colors are supposed to be, and even them only barely.”

Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Blades startled, looking surprised. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course.” Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. “You are the triage medic here. Protocol dictates that, in the absence of a full medic, any medical decisions would fall to the next available medical expert. In this case, that would be you.”

Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. “Like I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I don’t have the ability to fix him completely, my training only covered keeping patients alive until they could get to someone who could repair them fully. The only one on planet I know who might be able to help is Optimus’s medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.”

Heatwave grunted. “Got it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.”

That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. “Graham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though we’ll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.”

The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didn’t want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown bot’s care.

“Well?” Chief asked. “How’s our newest guest?

“Unwell.” Chase said succinctly. “He is severely injured and appears to be involved in the War in some fashion, though it is impossible to tell for which side. We are going to transport him to the firehouse in order to put him into a stasis pod so that he may heal. Graham, I believe Boulder requires your assistance in that respect.” he said, directing the last part to the engineer.

Graham nodded, making no protest as he jogged forward towards his partner, Boulder already turning and crouching to begin discussing plans. Dani followed him quickly, though she split from his path to join Blades, clambering up onto his leg and patting his canopy as she shot him a reassuring smile.

It was here that Kade made his own opinion known. “Hey hey hey, let’s slow down!” he protested. “You just said you don’t know what side this guy’s on, and you want to bring him back home? We can’t do that! Why can’t Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?”

Chase tilted his head. “Blades is a licensed triage medic. He does not have the training necessary to fully repair him. Besides, even if he did, I do not believe it would be wise to simply ‘send him on his way’, and you said. If he truly is a Decepticon, then doing so would risk leading the entirety of the Decepticon army right here to Griffin Rock.”

Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. “Oh.”

Chief sighed. “Fair point, partner. I agree we can’t just leave him or let him die. It wouldn’t be right, even if he isn’t on our side. But for safety’s sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?”

Chase nodded. “Indeed, Chief. I believe that is the current plan. As soon as he is safely in a stasis pod, we will attempt to contact Optimus. With luck, we can have this matter sorted by the end of today.”

“Good.” Chief smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

“Agreed.”

Chase returned to his team, Chief and Kade following at his heel, to find they had come up with a plan to transport the unknown Cybertronian. Working together, the rescue team was able to get the large flight-frame settled into a make-shift trailer the engineer duo had thrown together, and after hitching it to Boulder’s vehicle mode the whole group made their way to the firehouse using the tunnels in order to avoid being seen. Barring Blades, of course, who instead flew straight to base with Dani in order to prepare a stasis pod.

By the time Chase and the others arrived, the pod was set up and open to admit the unknown mech. It took all four of Sigma-17 working together to lift him into it, but then the glass door was sliding shut and frost soon hid the bot from view as the stasis function of the pod took affect. Now, all that was left was for Blades to clean himself up, and for Heatwave to contact Optimus about their guest.

Chase just hoped this development didn’t come back to bite them.

——————————

Dreadwing woke to the hiss of an unfamiliar system disengaging and onlined his optics to see icy mist billowing to the floor as a glass door slid up from in front of him. A stasis pod? That was odd. The Nemesis had no stasis pods and he knew the Autobots did not have the means to maintain or build one either. He was also not aware there were any other Cybertronians on the planet. So where was he, and how had he gotten into a stasis pod? The last thing he remembered was fleeing the Nemesis, although….he did have very vague, hazy memories of a crash. Had he been discovered and saved before he could offline? If so, he would have to thank his unexpected savior. Unless, of course, it was an Autobot and he had only been saved so he could be locked away. If that was the case, a bot was going to die here today and it would not be him.

The stasis pod fully disengaged from him, and he was able to step out and onto the floor. He glanced down at himself, humming idly. It seemed that he had been fully repaired either before or while in the pod. That was good for him. He looked around, frowning at his odd surroundings. The location he was in had medical supplies, but was clearly no full medical bay. Perhaps it was only set up for emergencies, then? His wings twitched when he picked up the sound of pede steps beyond the doorway, and his gaze turned towards the sound. After a moment, he realized whoever it was wasn’t coming towards him, but rather they seemed to be…pacing? Yes, that is what it sounded like. Curiosity piqued, Dreadwing strode towards the door, making sure his own steps were quiet so as not to alert the other to his presence. He stepped though, looking around…and his optics blew wide.

It was a youngling. A small, orange and white helicopter bot was pacing back and forth in tight circles in the center of the room. Dreadwing was willing to bet that this little flyer was even younger than the Autobot scout. As the mechling turned to pace in another circle, the Seeker caught sight of the emblem on his chest. At first, he saw only a badge similar to the Autobot brand and his frame began to stiffen. Then the rest of the badge processed in his mind and his vents froze.

The Rescue Bot insignia.

This tiny little flying mechling was a Rescue Bot. But how? Megatron had seen to the destruction of the Rescue Bot headquarters in the early days of the war, and had sent his soldiers to systematically hunt down and offline any who had survived the initial attack or had not been present during it. Dreadwing and his brother had joined the Decepticons after massacre, but it was one the only acts the Decepticons had committed that they had wholly disapproved off. The Rescue Bots had been unaffiliated with any faction. They took an oath of neutrality, a vow to save any and every life they could regardless who who or what that life was. Megatron had wanted them gone because he’d wanted to make a statement, but also because he wanted to deny the Autobots any potential allies or any aid that the Rescue Bots would have given them.

It had been a great loss, and had been one of the reasons Dreadwing had initially wished to avoid choosing one side or the other. The Decepticons, in his mind, took things too far. The Autobots, while more restrained, had initially risen from the regime in which he and his brother had suffered under. But then….Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his city’s destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. He’d gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And now…he was here, betrayed by the one who he as sworn himself to, watching a youngling Rescue Bot pace in nervous circles. It was something that should have been impossible.

Suddenly, the mechling froze, and wide amber optics turned to him. Idly, Dreadwing realized he must have made some noise, and then the little copter was yelping and scrabbling back. He paused, then hurried forward, his hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Before the little one got too close, Dreadwing locked his own sharp, red optics onto him, and the bot froze in place with a startled yip.

For a long moment, there was only silent staring.

——————————

Blades was pacing. There wasn’t much else he could do. The day they had brought back the large Seeker, Heatwave had contacted Optimus. Only, the Prime had very quickly shut him down, explaining they were busy with an issue of “upmost importance” and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadn’t called back. The Seeker was still in stasis, and Heatwave was once against attempting to make contact, for the 15th day in a row. Chase and the Chief were on patrol, and Boulder and the other humans were at Blossom Vale, having a picnic. Blades had opted to remain behind, wanting to keep an eye on the Seeker.

In the time since finding the large mech, Blades had done some research. He’d had to dig around the Sigma’s files, and dig through the files of the computer that connected them to Optimus, as well as dig through the various data-pads that had been left to them by High Tide and Optimus. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he’d been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadn’t been telling them. Now, Blades understood why the War had started. The civil unrest had been a thing even before Sigma-17 had been formed, when he was still in the early days of training, it had been mild, then, but it had been there. So he wasn’t surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadn’t ever been addressed.

He also knew, from the information he’d dug up in his search, that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers had joined the Decepticons. Which meant that his patient was, in all likelihood, a Decepticon himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But he hadn’t told the others his suspicions. Mostly because…something about the situation was odd. Optimus didn’t strike him as the type of mech who would inflict or approve of that type of wound being inflicted on a mech. So unless he had someone on his team who was excessively violent and he couldn’t control, Blades didn’t see that wound coming from the Autobots. Which meant it had come from the Decepticons. Of course, that only raised more questions. Namely, why would they do that to one of their own, if the mech really was a ‘Con? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didn’t want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been all he had learned, in the past few weeks. In one of the data pads High Tide had left about the early days of the war, there had been a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force”. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadn’t ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when he’d first found them..”

“I was not aware Rescue Teams were…still active.”

He’d said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. He’d paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadn’t thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in that one data pad, well…Blades was starting to think that “active” had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didn’t have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasn’t one he liked. It was another reason he was hesitant to share what he suspected about the Seeker. Optimus was keeping vital information from Sigma-17. He didn’t care if the Prime didn’t want them fighting in the War. He agreed that it was a bad idea. But he was withholding information that Blades suspected his team would very much want, and they didn’t even know it.

So here he was, pacing restlessly as his processor turned over the information he got, unsure how or even if he should share it. Would his team even believe him? He doubted they would. He knew they thought he was silly and couldn’t understand complex ideas, but that was far from the truth. After all, of all the Rescue Bots he had the greatest understanding of human nature and culture. His understanding wasn’t always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didn’t mean he understand the why, but he still understood more than any of the others. And sure, he applied most of his ability to learn new information to pop culture rather than the things the others might consider more “worthwhile”, but that was only because pop culture was more fun. Plus, pop culture was where humanity really displayed they way they ticked. Did it really make him that much of an idiot if all that was the case?

He was startled from his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the direction of the make-shift medical bay. The copter glanced in that direction, thinking it was one of his teammates, only to yelp and leap back upon seeing the Seeker. He’d known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Blade’s tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldn’t be used as an identifier of such. Even so, it was another tick in favor of his theory. Then the scene caught up to him, and medical training overrode his temporary moment of panic.

This bot wasn’t supposed to be up yet. In fact, even if he had been fully healed by the pods it was supposed to keep him under until Optimus could arrive. Except….Blades must have put in the settings wrong. He was so used to setting the stasis pods to release once the healing process was complete that he must have input that setting without realizing it. Which…presented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didn’t think his team could handle it. Those thoughts circled in the back of his processor as he directed the bulk of his worry towards making sure his patient was alright. His hands flapped awkwardly as he approached the larger flyer, ready to skim over his frame to check out his condition, when piercing red optics locked onto him. He froze with a high pitched squeak, his own optics blown wide as that gaze pinned him in place.

For a long moment, the two Cybertronians merely stared at each other.

Then Blades, getting increasingly nervous, broke the silence. “Are you okay?” he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. “The stasis pod should have healed you completely, but you were hurt pretty bad. Even most of your paint was gone, though it looks like your color nanintes were able to fix that while you were healing.”

Indeed, the mech standing in front of him was now in full color, his purple and yellow paint bold and bright on his frame. It did seem, however, that he was still missing a faction brand. If he’d ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.

The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didn’t know why Blades was worried. “I am well.” he said carefully. “Are you the one who repaired me?”

“Well, sort of?” Blades’s rotors fluttered against his back. “I’m a triage medic, so I couldn’t fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.”

The Seeker narrowed his eyes. “Team?” he repeated, obviously suspicious.

Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. “We’re Rescue Bots.” he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. “Team Sigma-17. I’m Blades.”

The Seeker was silent for a long moment. “You may call me Dreadwing.” he said slowly. His gaze was still piercing.

Blades nodded, then took a few steps forward, and when Dreadwing made no move to stop him, he closed the gap between them. “Do you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.”

The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems he’d gotten in his triage training to check his patient over. Everything was coming back fine, but with a wound as serious as his had been Blades away taking no chances.

“You are a Rescue Bot.” Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.

“Yep. Me, Boulder, Chase, and Heatwave. We crashed here a while ago and Prime stationed us on this island to act as a rescue team for the locals.” he explained distractedly.

Dreadwing made a soft hum. “Prime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?”

Blades frowned. “He knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We haven’t been able to contact him lately though.” He was too focused on his task to think about whether he should actually,be answering so freely. The second question gave him pause, though. “No? At least, not really? We’re a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We can’t side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.” He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. “We’re more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we don’t know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.” He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much he’d shared. “Uhhh….”

Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. “Yes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.” he rumbled. His expression darkened. “I understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.”

This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimus’s first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. “What?” he asked weakly.

Dreadwing stared. “You were not told?” he sounded…angry. “That is foolish. It is not a pleasant tale, but you should have been told if only to ensure you understand the importance of your existence remaining secret.”

Blades swallowed. “Optimus doesn’t really tell us much of anything about the War, and the data pads he leaves only really cover the basic and important bits, not the details.” he whispered. “Does…does Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the “end of the Rescue Force”? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldn’t find any details other than that one phrase.”

Dreadwing’s gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. “Yes.” he said bluntly. “In the early days of the War, Megatron grew angry that the Rescue Bots aligned with no faction, and he wanted to deprive the Autobots of any who might aid or help them. He ordered the destruction of the Rescue Force. The Headquarters was destroyed, and all Rescue Bots present were massacred. Any who survived, and any who had not been present in the initial attack, were systematically hunted and slain.”

Blades’s knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwing’s chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didn’t protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.

“But that would mean…”

“You and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.”

The copter’s knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Blades’s vocalizer, and the Seeker blessedly said nothing and made no moves to push as the youngling processed the new information.

It was, of course, that moment that the others chose to return.

——————————

Part 2

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mysticalnightenthusiast · 3 years ago

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S.N.A.F.U CH-44 ‘Circuit of the Americas’

All day Thursday Daniel was kept busy with pre-race media commitments so Eadaoin sent the day with her parents and brother traipsing around Austin and seeing the sights but eventually Friday rolled around and the track action itself began. Instead of driving to the track alone with Daniel who had to go to the track earlier she hopped on the team bus with her family and they made their way to the Circuit of the Americas arriving shortly after 10AM.

“Oh man I am living a dream!” Cahir declared as they scanned their passes to go through the paddock turnstiles “this is better than the VIP Grandstand package I paid for Monaco two years ago!”

“You’ll get everything you got in that package and more with the VIP Paddock pass,” Eadaoin promised as they moved through the bustling hub and we’ll be watching the practice sessions from the garage and Danny’s even arranged with Zak to watch his lap in Dale Earnhardt’s Chev from the Pit Wall.”

“For real?” Cahir asked giddily.

“Yup he told me he wants you guys to have the full immersive F1 experience,” Eadaoin replied with a grin “you’ll get o do pretty much everything except sit in an actual car.”

“Does COTA do circuit bus tours?” Cahir asked in interest “like at Monaco?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll ask Pippa and see if she can organise something or find out,” Eadaoin asked “but there’s loads to see in the meantime. C’mon!”

*******************************************************************************************

Eadaoin kept her family so busy from when they arrived on track that they barely made it back to the garage in time for the beginning of the first practice session. They arrived at the same time as Daniel who greeted the quartet enthusiastically.

“Having a good day on track?” he asked.

“Oh man just the best,” Cahir replied enthusiastically “I’ve been trying not to fanboy all day.”

“Well you suck at it because you’ve been obviously fanboying all day,” Eadaoin said with a grin “we saw Max coming out of the Red Bull comms centre and I asked him if Mum Dad and Cahir could have a pic with him and I swear Dad and Cahir peed their pants a little.”

“Oh shut up,” Cahir shot back.

“So did Super Max take the pic?” Danny asked,

“Yeah he did,” Cahir replied “and he said he would get us an assload of Red Bull merch too which is nice of him.”

“I’ll counter it with an ‘assload’ of McLaren merch,” Daniel promised with a grin “I’d love to stay and chat but I need to get in the car, might catch you up after I’ve taken the Chev for a spin alright?”

“Drive safe,” Eadaoin said pecking him on the lips “and have fun.”

“Will do darling, see you soon.”

“You know sis I really like him,” Cahir said as Daniel winked then headed over to Michael who was waiting beside Daniel’s car, his helmet in hand “Danny’s a really nice guy, pity you didn’t meet him years ago.”

“Yeah it is but if I was meant to meet him years ago I would have,” Eadaoin replied as they made their way to the back of the garage “things that are meant to happen happen when they’re supposed to.”

“That’s very philosophical of you honey,” Roisin said.

“Hmm maybe, Danny and I have talked about how we met and why we met the way we did often and have come to the same conclusion that us meeting happened the way it did because it was simply meant to happen that way, even with all the shitty lead up.” Eadaoin informed her mother watching as Daniel got into his car then put on his helmet “and anything that happens from now on is meant to be and we’re both happy to let things unfold.”

“You two are nauseating really,” Cahir teased as Daniel and Lando’s cars roared to life simultaneously “its nice to see you happy really it is.”

“I agree with your brother kiddo,” Donnacha said “after what happened with Eamon all your mother, brother and I wanted for you is to be happy and it finally appears you are.”

“Yeah Dad I am,” Eadaoin replied, her cheeks colouring up “I finally am.”

*******************************************************************************************

Daniel had a less than ideal first free practice session being the sixteenth car in order so it was a slightly disappointed Australian that returned to the garage an hour later. He debriefed with Tom and Andreas then made his way to the back of the garage where Eadaoin, Donnacha, Rosin and Cahir were seated.

“Shit luck mate aye?” Cahir said sympathetically.

“Well it could’ve gotten better,” Daniel admitted “I basically spent the whole session figuring out how this car would go around this track, I’m more familiar with the track than the car so I fully expect to go better in P2.”

“But the drive in the Earnhardt Chev first huh?” Donnacha said.

Daniel’s whole face lit up.

“Oh yeah I’m totally looking forward to that!” he said excitedly “been ages since I’ve driven an old style manual though, I hope I don’t crunch too many gears, Zak’ll kill me.”

“Nah he won’t kill you, you’re his golden child,” Cahir teased “if you crash yeah then you’re out of a job but crunching a few gears, you’ll be fine.”

“Where are you going to watch the hot lap from?”

“Pit Wall,” Eadaoin said “Zak organised for us to sit alongside Andreas.”

“Ah you’ll have the prime viewing spot then,” Daniel said cheerfully “I’ll try and put on a good show for you then.”

The curly haired Australian caught Eadaoin’s eye and flashed her a furtive wink. She blushed and returned the wink knowing that later that night when they were alone her certainly would give her a ‘good show’

*******************************************************************************************

Eadaoin and her family shared lunch with Pippa and Charlotte in the McLaren hospitality unit then made their way back to pit lane where Andreas met them.

“Andreas this is my family, My Dad Donnacha, my Mum Roisin and my brother Cahir,” Eadaoin said introducing the team principal to her family “Mum, Dad, Cally, this is Andreas Seidl the McLaren team principal.”

“Good to meet you all,” the effusive German said cheerfully shaking each of their hands in turn just as an enormous gravelly roar from the Earnhardt Chevrolet came from the other end of the pit lane “sounds like Daniel’s ready to go, come with me we’ll get you a good viewing spot.”

“This is unreal!” Cahir yelled over the roar of the track “I gotta do this more often!”

Andreas took Eadaoin and her family to the pit wall and they each found a spot amongst the McLaren garage staff to watch Danny do his hot lap in the Earnhardt Chevrolet. Eadaoin got her phone out and began filming as the car emerged from the end of the pit lane with a deafening roar. The McLaren garage staff cheered their driver on as he roared by directly under them and up the straight and to the first corner, she filmed the vision on the big screen of her man racing around the track and dropping a huge tyre smoking engine roaring donut at the top of the straight. Emotion made her heart swell and her eyes welled with happy tears as she watched Daniel drive the legendary car of his motorsport idol around one of his favourite tracks.

Eventually the curly haired Australian roared around the final turn and raced back to the pit straight to the deafening cheers of all the teams garage staff and the patrons in the grandstand. He performed another series of donuts on the track then roared into the garage at the end of the straight. Eadaoin sought out her family and together they made their way back to the McLaren garage which was still alive with the buzz of seeing Danny live his dream of driving his idol’s car.

“Oh wow that was out of this world!” Cahir exclaimed as they watched Danny emerge from the Chevrolet on the screen in front of them “I’ve never actually seen someone live their dream until today, it was great to watch.”

“Wasn’t it?” Eadaoin said dreamily “as long as we’ve been together Danny’s always said how much he admitted Earnhardt Senior. He’s got a wall at his Monaco apartment dedicated to him.”

Half an hour later Daniel returned to the McLaren garage his face alive with excitement.

“I don’t care what else happens for the rest of my career, today I have lived my dream!” he announced pressing a quick kiss to Eadaoin’s temple.

“What, winning a WDC wouldn’t top today?” Cahir asked in amusement.

“Well that might,” Daniel admitted “but if that doesn’t happen today has been the highlight, oh the adrenaline rush is amazing. Did you get a good viewing spot?”

“Yeah right next to the pit wall,” Cahir replied “got some great vision if you want it for your socials.”

“Sure just text me the videos and I’ll upload them after FP2.” Daniel said cheerfully.

*******************************************************************************************

Daniel had a much more successful FP2 placing fifth fastest out of the twenty drivers on the grid and that rounded off a productive day for the curly haired Australian. He had his usual post practice media commitments so stayed behind at the track whilst Eadaoin and her family returned to the hotel. The loved up pair decided to stay in for the night and have dinner in their suite alone.

“Your folks don’t mind us staying in for the night?” Daniel asked as they shared a wine on the balcony of their suite.

“Nah they’re going to stay in themselves,” Eadaoin replied allowing him to wrap his muscular arms around her waist and press a kiss to her forehead “Mum said they’ve done a lot of travelling in the last week and just need to relax a little before qualifying tomorrow and the race the day after.”

“Its good seeing you with your family you know,” Daniel said in a soft voice “I just hope one day you can see me with mine.”

“It’ll happen in time babe,” Eadaoin informed him “and I know its three months away but you, me we should probably start planning what we’re going to do for Christmas.”

Daniel groaned.

“If COVID wasn’t literally fucking up everyone’s lives it’d be an easy decision,” Daniel said with a sigh “I’d take you home for the whole winter break and introduce you to Michelle, her husband Joe and their kids Isaac and Isabella and I’d introduce you to Dad’s brothers and sisters and Mum’s brothers and sisters and all my old school mates then take you down to Mum and Dad’s beach shack at Cottesloe Beach. Then we could go to Adelaide and spend time with your family but with COVID being as unpredictable as it is and with you having a full time job now I don’t know if one I can even go home and two if I can whether you can come with me. I love my family but I don’t want to spend Christmas without you and I don’t really fancy the idea of spending two weeks in quarantine. It was bad enough when I had to do it last Christmas.”

“Is flying your family over here an option?” Eadaoin asked “my folks are coming over for Christmas because Cahir is crashing with me til he decides what he wants to do job wise.”

“I suppose it could be an option,” Daniel mused “Mum and Dad have some great staff who could look after the farm whilst they were away then back home in quarantine but I don’t know if Michelle and Joe could get the required time off their jobs to be able to come over.”

“Ask them when you Facetime them after the race on Sunday,” Eadaoin suggested “if they can manage the time off and are down for coming over we could have a combined Christmas with our families.”

Daniel smiled.

“I have to admit I like the idea of that,” he said “usually Mum and Dad and Michelle occasionally get to come to about half a dozen races a year but the last couple of years they haven’t been able to because of COVID and I’ve seen them a sum total of twice in the last eighteen months and that’s been super hard to deal with.”

“So what does a Ricciardo family Christmas look like?” Eadaoin asked.

“Well growing up we used to spend Christmas Eve at Dad’s parents house with all my Aunties and uncles and cousins for dinner, and gift giving then we’d go to midnight mass then coffee and panettone afterwards then on Christmas Day we’d have lunch and it was usually just Mum and Dad and me and Michelle and usually one set of grandparents,” Daniel recalled “we’d have it at our house in Duncraig or down at the shack at Cottesloe Beach, good times. What about your family?”

“For the first few years after we immigrated to Australia we would go back to Ireland to spend Christmas with Mum and Dad’s side of the family,” Eadaoin revealed “then we’d have some relatives come out, Aunties and Uncles, cousins a set of grandparents here and there then when Cahir and I got older Mum and Dad started asking us where we’d like to spend Christmas and it was usually in Ireland. Like your family we’d usually spend Christmas Eve with a set of Grandparents and whoever else came that day for dinner then we’d go to midnight mass before sharing fruit cake and Irish coffee for the adults and cocoa for the kids. On Christmas Day itself we’d usually have it with Mum’s parents and her siblings or Dad’s parents and his siblings. Then when all my cousins had to go back to school we’d come home to Australia. Since I’ve been back in the UK Mum and Dad have come and spent Christmas with me in London which usually consisted of an outing to Winter Wonderland then Christmas Eve carols show at Whelan’s then midnight Mass before Christmas dinner at Whelan’s again and present opening back at my place. But since COVID has been a thing they haven’t been able to travel and have had Christmas together back in Australia. Since COVID has been a thing Christmas has been nice but not been as special because I’ve not had my family with me, though last year I went to Ireland to spend it with my Ireland based family so that was nice.”

“Let’s try and organise a big get together in London then,” Daniel suggested “I love my family a ton but I really don’t want to be away from you this Christmas, I know they would understand if I stayed back here-well London or Monaco wherever we ended up celebrating.”

“I really don’t want you to be away from your family though,” Eadaoin told him “I know how important they are to you especially given the nomadic nature of your job. At lease I’m geographically centralized and people can come to me, you’re in a different place every week, or just about every week.”

“I’ll figure out something darling,” Daniel promised setting down his empty wine glass and pulling her close “Christmas is three months away, there’s plenty of time to organise something.”

#F1 #DanielRiccardoFanfiction

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politicalmamaduck · 4 years ago

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a name for a kiss

Leia meets a beautiful Rebellion contact in a cantina for an intelligence transaction. For my dear friend @southsidestory, thank you so much for suggesting Leia/Qi’ra! Read it on AO3 here.

...

The woman sitting across from Leia was older, cultured--the kind of woman Leia wanted to be as a bored young princess growing up on Alderaan. She wanted to see the world, have drinks with interesting beings in luxurious cantinas across the galaxy, and convince those interesting beings to support democracy and the Rebellion.

Whether this woman supported democracy, or merely her own interests, Leia could not say, though she assumed the latter. Her clothing was finely cut, her sleeves and cloak long for both protection and warmth. Leia did not see an obvious weapon, though she herself could use even a hairpin for protection and lock-picking if need be.

She would be a fool to trust this woman. She would be a fool to trust anyone, anymore, but somehow, her trust instantly extended to a farm boy, a smuggler, and a Wookiee the moment they entered her life.

Leia hoped they were all safe on their various missions. She hoped she would make it through this mission, out of this cantina, and off this planet safely. She didn’t doubt the woman across from her had much more backup than she did. The Rebellion couldn’t spare it. The organization--probably criminal, Leia had to admit--to which this woman belonged certainly could.

Leia needed the intel this woman possessed, and she knew it. It was only a matter of how much she was going to bleed the Rebellion dry for it.

She was charming and beautiful, and Leia was nervous, though she never would have admitted it, nor anticipated that merely meeting a beautiful woman in a cantina for a drink would have made her nervous.

Leia stared down Darth Vader himself. She could haggle with this woman and get the intel the Rebellion needed.

The woman’s eyes twinkled in the low light as the server brought Leia’s drink. She smiled, and raised her glass. Leia couldn’t help but notice the way her lips curled, not a speck of her immaculate lipstick out of place. “To new beginnings,” the woman said, inclining her head to Leia.

“To new beginnings,” Leia replied, returning the gesture and clinking their glasses.

After savoring her drink, her lipstick appearing untouched, the woman folded her hands upon the table. “Shall we begin?” she said, smiling once more, and Leia knew there were a thousand or more secrets hiding behind that smile.

If she possessed the credits, Leia would have paid to know them all.

…

They talked of everything and nothing, each assuming the other understood their coded words. Their conversation was a deadly dance, circling around one another and dipping to accommodate the other, always pausing to take their partner’s measure.

Leia had always enjoyed verbal sparring with a pleasant companion. This was a dance--or duel--she knew intimately well, for which her parents trained her throughout her life. Her blood thrummed with energy, her mind raced, her heart beat rapidly beneath her chest.

She smiled and laughed, and so did the woman. Dany was her alias for the night; Leia was certain it was a new one. Leia’s own alias for the evening was Marie, also a new alias for her. It was safer that way. They were merely acquaintances discussing a business deal and enjoying an evening. There was no reason to suspect that she was Leia Organa, just as there was no reason to suspect her companion was whoever she really was.

Their fingers brushed and it was as if an electric jolt went through Leia. Aliases or no, she wanted to know this woman’s true story, to tease it out of her while they relaxed and enjoyed the evening in a more private space.

If only they could share a bottle of Toniray wine. There was nothing like it, and there would never be another. The cocktail Leia was enjoying was a similar color, but the taste was far less sweet and bubbly. Dany drank a fine Corellian whiskey. Leia noted the vintage for future reference in the pocket of her mind where she stored such information. It was a skill that served her well in the Senate, she would admit with pride. One never knew when a piece of information would be useful. She wondered if Dany was noting Leia’s own cocktail, storing that in the back of her own mind for future reference. There was not much else to note from the evening; the women were careful, good. Too good for their own good, for one had to live a dangerous life to both possess and purchase the kind of information in which they were dealing tonight.

“It’s been a pleasure, Marie,” Dany said. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening. Let’s have one last drink, in celebration of a successful deal, and then I fear I’ll have to retire for the night.”

“And is our deal successful?” Leia asked.

Dany slid her drink closer to Leia. On the coaster, there was an advertisement for a liquor called 500 Kings.

Leia subtly shifted her eyes downward, looking for whatever it was Dany wanted her to notice.

500K, Leia thought. Of course. She was thankful the initial ask wasn’t a higher sum.

“Perhaps just half a drink more,” Leia said, taking the last sip of her own. “I do have early meetings tomorrow as well.”

Dany smiled. “Certainly, you wouldn’t just stop at half a drink, my dear Marie. It’s cold outside, drink up and warm your blood.”

Leia would not reveal her disappointment on her face. The Rebellion needed the money. But they needed the intel too. Leia did not need the alcohol to stay warm, but she wouldn’t mind continuing the conversation, as long as they could turn it away from their meeting’s actual purpose.

Praying General Rieekan would forgive her, she initiated the credits transfer after the server brought their new drinks.

“To a successful partnership,” she said, raising her glass.

“To a successful partnership,” Dany replied, meeting her eyes and clinking their glasses.

Data download complete, her comm indicated, and Leia did not dare breathe a sigh of relief, but rather met her companion’s gaze once more.

“Where are you staying this evening?” she asked, hoping that was a neutral enough truthful topic.

“At the Weststar,” Dany replied, and Leia nodded. “I’m staying there as well.” Her safety was worth the extra credits, Rieekan and Mon Mothma told her. It was all worth it for what she now had hidden on her comm.

“Will you walk back with me, then?” Dany asked, surprising Leia. It didn’t seem like a trap. Perhaps her companion was nervous, though she didn’t seem it at all. It was getting late, and they were two petite women who were imbibing, though not heavily. It would be good to be safe.

As they left the cantina, Dany extended her arm, and Leia took it.

They walked, slowly, their breath fogging the chilly night air, their heels clanging on the ground. The moon hung heavy and low in the sky.

“Perhaps we can meet again, have another drink, when all this is said and done,” Dany said, pausing to look at Leia.

“I would enjoy that,” Leia admitted. “Though I’m not sure how I’ll ever find you again.”

They walked on for a moment, approaching their hotel, before Dany responded. “I’ll trade you my real name.”

“What is your price?” Leia asked, suddenly short of breath.

“A kiss,” Dany said, and leaned in. Leia met her mouth with her own. Her lips were soft, and her mouth was warm, and Leia felt like molten gold.

They broke apart, far too soon, Leia’s hand still on the other woman’s cheek.

“My name is Qi’ra,” she whispered into Leia’s ear, her lips grazing Leia’s earlobe. Leia smiled.

“A pleasure, Qi’ra,” she said, savoring the way it sounded on her tongue.

They resumed walking. Qi’ra asked, “And you? Will you trade a kiss for a name?” and Leia smiled again, enjoying the thrill, the danger of the moment.

“I will,” she said, stopping once more and gazing at Qi’ra in the moonlight.

They kissed once more, and once more, it ended too soon.

“My name is Leia,” she whispered. If Qi’ra recognized her or her name, she did not betray it.

Did she dare invite Qi’ra up to bed with her? She did have other meetings in the morning. She did not want to risk the other woman in case something went wrong, or even if the Imperials traced their transaction, though it was supposed to be untraceable.

Leia could feel her wetness. It had been too long since she had a lover. But Qi’ra made the decision for her as they entered the hotel, saying “Find me in a few years, and I’ll show you a proper night.” She kissed her hand, winked, and left Leia to return to her room alone and dream.

#leia x qi'ra #leia organa #qi'ra #star wars #fan fiction #my writing #alcohol tw

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