“What’d he say?” asked Skywarp, cold doubt in his tone.
“He said he’s going
in,” repeated Thundercracker, flabbergasted.
“Going in where!?”
“I think he means he’s going into Broadside,” ‘Cracker sounded concerned. “You don’t think he thinks that…”
“Oh, he
definitely thinks there’s someone in there! We’ve got to stop him!”
The Decepticons pitched and yawed respectively, circling around in a u-turn. Broadside’s massive jet-body hurtled towards them, not nearly as nimble as either seeker, but faster through the marvels of inertia. He was gathering more speed, too.
From below, Isaac hurtled towards the colossal autobot in a glorious silver streak, unaware of the foolishness of his actions. TC felt a brief pang of pity mixed with a morbid curiosity. The unstoppable force of Isaac’s will meeting the immovable object of Broadside’s lack of pilot was something he hadn’t even considered. How would they explain this without giving away Skywarp?
“It’s not going to work!” blared Skywarp over the communications line. “Don, you need to avert your course!”
Isaac rewarded Warp’s efforts with a bray of disbelieving laughter.
“You shame me, Lady Watari,” the Don persisted, an arrow in the sky headed right towards disaster, pistons pumping laboriously. “I can’t turn away from this.”
The image of Isaac plummeting through the sky directly towards the ring wielding Unmade King-In-Yellow flashed through Thundercracker’s memory like a film reel, scene by scene, where the Don had crashed right into his foe with no respect for the concept of self-preservation.
“He actually
can’t,” remarked ‘Cracker, almost in wonder. “He
can’t turn away from this. It’s not in his nature.”
Warp cursed, and tacked on some more speed. “Then we have to stop him.”
Thundercracker engaged his thrusters full bore and zoomed his remaining optic in on Broadside’s bullet-nosed cockpit, scanning, looking for something they could use. He found nothing, and found himself wishing he hadn’t lost his other optic. The ISO, aperture, and zoom of a lone optic left his sensory perception sorely lacking in the detail department.
“The old fashioned way, then,” TC answered himself. “Skywarp! I’m going to go on ahead and hit him with another Sonic
BOOM! When he’s rattled, you transform, drop down, and stomp him right out of the sky. Isaac can’t go for his cockpit if he transforms back into a carrier.”
Skywarp called out in agreement, and they sprang into action. TC’s afterburners flared with a high pitched whine, fully engaged, and the Decepticon hurtled helm-on towards his oversized Autobot opponent. How many times had he clashed with them like this? And how many times would he again? He was in rough shape, even after the healing brew from the crone on the island; would this be his last fight against an Autobot?
“Couldn’t even stick to one cause, huh?” chided Thundercracker as he hurtled towards Broadside. “At least Skywarp and I are consistent!”
“The only thing consistent about you Decepticreeps-”
‘Cracker pulled up, his magnificent blue catching the sun in a lens flare, then triggered his sonic
BOOM! The shockwave erupted from him, shaking Broadside’s momentum and plunging him off-course. Isaac made an utterance of annoyance through the ‘comms.
“-is the way we consistently pump the oil right out of you losers!” bellowed Skywarp, dropping down from above.
He’d shifted into his ‘mech form, and his pedes collided with the top of Broadside’s jet wings with a sound like screws and bolts being put through a blender. As expected, Broadside plummeted nose down towards the sea.
“What are you
doing?!” demanded Isaac, sounding frustrated, but bewildered. “That wasn’t the plan!”
“Had to change the plan!” barked back Thundercracker. “Wasn’t going to work! There’s nothing in that cockpit!”
“Nothing in the-” Isaac trailed off, genuinely perplexed.
As Broadside’s tremendous grey and red frame plummeted through the air it began to disassemble, a process that took longer for him than it would for a smaller Cybertronian, and slowly he became a sprawling system of rotating plates, pieces, and complex inner workings that moved in complex patterns while they put themselves back together, somehow growing larger in the process. Perhaps it was just a different allocation of space that allowed a ‘mech like Broadside to grow in size, and then condense himself into a smaller shape just as easily. Whatever it was, when he clapped against the surface of the water, deafeningly loud, Broadside had changed back into a massive aircraft carrier. While his reputation back home was
far from impressive, he was
staggeringly large.
“And now there’s not a cockpit to focus on,” Isaac remarked. “We’ll have to change plans.”
“Darn,” stated TC, trying to sound annoyed.
“Yeah, that’s a real shame,” Skywarp agreed. “Guess we’d better change tactics. Maybe we try something a little simpler, like good old fashioned harassment, and bullying!”
The seekers dipped down, rocketing towards the tremendous Unmade carrier emblazoned with a void-marred Autobot emblem. They pulled up before reaching him, weaving out of the way of a smattering of anti-aircraft missiles, and began to circle around his tremendous surface.
“Hey, Broadside!” Skywarp called out. “You too big of a
loser to run with the Autobots anymore? What, they kick you out of their little club?”
Broadside roared in frustration, launching a barrage of heavy machine gun fire out at Skywarp, who deftly maneuvered around it.
“You know, I’ve pulled debris out of my tailpipe with more talent than you,” added Thundercracker, circling counter-clockwise whilst his wing-mate soared clockwise. “You must be fragged in the helm to think you’ve got a chance against us.”
The rounds focused on Skywarp ceased, while the gunnery on Broadside’s deck pivoted to target Thundercracker’s dashing blue. He fired, but his frustration was evident in his aim; he couldn’t hit either seeker.
“I wonder if they call you Broadside because you can’t hit the broad side of a barn,” taunted Skywarp.
Above, Isaac circled once in a figure-eight, making a perplexed sound.
“Do you two
know this man?” he asked finally, in the voice of a friend who had been left out of the loop in something.
“Man?” asked Skywarp. “Oh. Right. We, uh, may have met a time or two-”
“Or a time or two
thousand,” added Thundercracker. “He’s a huge loser. I mean, he’s both of those things separately - huge and a loser - but he’s also like, a really big loser. In the hyperbolic sense, not in the size sense. It’s his entire thing. Nobody respects him, and he’s really bad at-”
An errant missile nearly clipped the distracted TC, and he managed to evade by mere inches, feeling the whoosh of air from the ballistics.
“-everything,” Skywarp finished for him. “He’s terrible at everything. The only thing he’s good at is being really, really big. Other than that, he’s like the dregs of the Autobots.”
“Autobots?” asked Isaac. “Is that some kind of war faction?”
“Something like that,” Skywarp explained. “They’re these really pompous guys that act like they’re better than us, but they’re really just fragged in the helm. They’re not actually better than us at all. If anything they’re-”
“ENOUGH!” roared Broadside.
He began to pull apart again, changing, during which time the trifecta of Skywarp, Thundercracker, and the Red Baron took the opportunity to regain formation, flying in a tight ‘V’. They put some distance between themselves and their foe, who shifted back into the form of a bulky jet, launching from the sea with the laborious groan of a massive thruster system designed to combat the size of their host.
“Takes him some time to gain momentum,” Thundercracker explained. “You know. Because of how huge he is. It’s kind of like a freight train that has to jam on the brakes and slow to a stop because it’s too big to fight its own momentum. He can get some speed going, but he isn’t very good at maneuvering.”
“That’s what will give me a clean shot at his cockpit,” answered Isaac. “The original plan is back on. Keep him distracted.”
Isaac swooped around before the others could protest, and barrel-rolled off to the side. Broadside, sufficiently pissed at their jibes, continued after Skywarp and Thundercracker.
“He doesn’t get it,” remarked Skywarp, bemused. “And I don’t know how to explain it to him without…”
“Without giving away that you’re not a person?” finished TC. “Yeah. Yeah, I got that.”
“Maybe we can just kind of take him out before Isaac even gets the chance to-”
“Here it comes!” blared Isaac over the comms.
The Red Baron, who, at this point might need a new moniker given its distinct lack of red paint, plummeted out of the air towards the cockpit of Broadside. The Don angled himself just so, and aimed a pistol out of his own cockpit.
POP! POP!
The crashing report of Don Isaac de Metralla’s shattered the air, and shattered the glass of Broadside’s cockpit as well. The tinkling music of the glass cascading over itself in a thousand little pieces then dropping down into the sea added a layer of symphony over the differing roars of the various jet engines.
Isaac made a strange sound.
“It really
is empty!” he remarked breathlessly. “What
is this thing?”
He passed over Broadside, the busted glass pinging uselessly against the plate of his vessel. Broadside dipped, crying out in a mortified voice.
“You’ve
unveiled me!” he bellowed, embarrassed. He sounded like the inhabitant of a dressing room whose door had been wrenched open mid-change. “How
dare you!?”
Thundercracker stifled a giggle, while Skywarp cackled openly.
“Oh, boy, wait until everyone hears about this!” he called out to Broadside. “We’re going to spread this one far and wide! You thought you were a loser before!”
“YOU BETTER…YOU CAN’T…YOU MUST-”
Broadside spluttered incoherently, pulling away from them with haste, and for a moment it seemed as if he may simply blast off into the horizon in his shame.
But he did not. He circled back around to face his foes, whose cacophonous laughter was that of a pack of hyenas.
“I am
tired of being bullied by you Decepticreeps!” boomed Broadside.
His jet slowed to a crawl, then started its transformation. Wings and nose-cone unfolded, forming helm and servo, his exposed cockpit wove itself into a tremendous chassis, and his weapons systems began to manifest themselves from hidden sections. Soon, thrusters keeping him aloft, Broadside’s ‘mech form, twice the size of Skywarp or Thundercracker’s own, glowered at them through a crimson visor.
He leveled his hand cannon, which whirred into life, and he popped off a shot. It streaked through the air towards Skywarp, who tried to evade, and did so, but just narrowly. A scorched streak on the belly of Warp’s frame showed what a close call it had been.
“I think we really pissed this guy off,” Skywarp noted.
He sounded impressed, but Thundercracker knew Warp better than to think he’d been impressed at the improvement in Broadside’s aim. Oh, no. He was impressed with the efficacy of their bullying. They’d gotten better. This might be the first time they’d bullied someone into improved combat efficiency.
“Can you give us a minute with this guy?” Warp asked Isaac, putting on his best doting ‘Lady Watari’ voice. “Keep the skies clean around us?”
Isaac, resignation in his voice, pulled away from the wingmates, who initiated their own transformations. Soon, their robotic forms, diminutive in comparison to Broadside’s, hovered in the air on thrust, each leveling their own weapons in turn.
“We don’t want to do this!” yelled Thundercracker from across the expanse of sky between the Cybertronians.
“He’s right! We’re
way too good for this! It’s really a waste of our time!” added Skywarp.
Thundercracker shot him a look through his cycloptic red lens.
“You’ve always been better than this!” TC continued, heedless of his friend. “Morally, I mean! Not skill-wise! Skill-wise you’ve always been the same, or maybe a little worse! Actually, even at your best you’ve never been particularly good! You’re really like the dregs of the Autobots, but
morally you were better than this! What happened to you!?”
Thundercracker shook his head, realizing his speech had gotten away from him. What had he been getting at again?
“You Decepticreeps always think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you!? You’re not better than us! Not better than
me! When the Autobots need a place to rest, whose deck do they land on?
Mine! When they need a laugh, who’s there, spewing oil from seasickness?
Me! I’m the pedes of the operation! They
need me! And Darkseid needs me, too! To seize this zone, and wipe out annoying little
pests like the two of you! No wonder why Megatron let you two fly right into a trap! You’re just a couple of frag for brains, incapable of thinking independently, just waiting for the next order to follow. And now you’re taking orders from a fleshbag? Ha! Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower!”
Another flash of hand cannon projectile threaded the needle between TC and Skywarp, who spread a little further apart in response.
“Guess there’s no getting through that thick helm of his,” Warp said with a shrug of his wings. “You ready to frag some Autobot tailpipe?”
“Guess so,” ‘Cracker admitted, a little embarrassed about how good it felt to return to the simplicity of their accustomed combat format. “At least this is something I can wrap my head around.”
They leveled their gunnery at Broadside, and began to pepper him with suppressing fire. Only, the problem was that his plates were so fragging thick! Simple machine gun fire only served to scratch his paint. His tremendous bulk continued to advance through the sky, tank-like, while he blasted splats of hand cannon fire in either of their directions.
“We’ve gotta get in close,” Thundercracker called out, shaking his servo, whose arm-mounted machine gun was smoking heavily from the heat of its work. “If we can get right in there, we can pummel his weak points!”
“Emotionally, or physically?” asked Warp, genuinely curious.
“
Both.”
