Breathless

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Helex sneered, then laughed cruelly at his own joke. I noticed his denta were crooked and worn, they seemed eternally stained a dirty energon pink, and he smelled like a dead animal. I curled my upper lip in a snarl.

"Ha, ha." I growled, narrowing my optics. 

"But seriously," Helex resumed, his tone dropping to a chilly -180 degrees. "The D.J.D. has always been five members. Plus a medic and Kaon's stupid dog. Not six. Now I have no idea what kinda messed up, half-baked idiotic idea Tarn cooked up that involved a loose-lipped, day-dreaming, rule-breaking, trouble-finding dancing femme like you. But whatever it is, I may go along with it. But I don't have to like it, or like you, or care if you die. So if you find yourself in a sticky situation at some point on this suicide mission, don't count on my help."

And with that, he turned away again, and resumed pretending that I didn't exist.

I snarled, my lip curling to reveal my teeth, to no one in particular. I decided not to waste my breath and try to talk to Helex, since he felt so awful about my existence. The words stung a little, mostly because they were slightly true. I had been caught dancing and daydreaming. I had a record of misconduct, misbehavior and mouthing-off. I had several cases of assault and suspected assault on my file as well that weren't helping matters. Thankfully my experience as an assassin had kept me from being found out about a few M.I.A. soldiers who stepped way too out of line and happened to decide to double cross me. Poor fools, as far as I know the captain still thought it was Autobots that had set off the bomb field. Hopefully it stayed that way.

I was about to take a sip of my now luke-warm energon when a sudden thought occurred to me. Why had Tarn recruited me to the D.J.D.? At best I was a trained assassin, but Vos and Kaon could easily fill that role and any form it could take. At worst I was kind of a Decepticon problem-soldier, which wasn't exactly an ideal fit for an elite team of hyper-loyal extremists on a secret task force that eliminated all of Megatron's enemies on a hitlist and made sure to let every Decepticon know that one inch out of line could land them on said list and ultimately in the grinder. So yeah, there was pressure.

Something was up. And I'll be darned if I'm played for a fool, and while Helex might be...cynical to say the least, he did have a point. What could I possibly bring to the D.J.D. table, other than trouble? And why me out of countless other Decepticons better equipped for the job? And what even was the job? 

As I tried to put some pieces together, I remembered another thing, on my first day, Soundwave had mentioned Megatron's "plan". What had that even meant? Whatever it was Tarn hadn't wanted me to know, and immediately brushed it off when it had been brought up. 

I sighed, I would just have to trust Tarn, and whatever his motives were at the moment. Because I had too little information to make a judgement call, and too little possibility to change anything even if I had more. 

I just hoped they were as pure as he was making them out to be.

*************Time skip and shameless plugging****************************

Right now is a time skip and so it's a great place to smack the reason this chapter is late in front of ya'll's faces, because I spent HOURS on this, and I'm pretty proud of it. Lemme know what you think! Maybe I'll make more things like this and add them into my chapters. :)

 :)

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P.S. I apologise for the poor picture quality, my phone's camera makes pictures look like they were taken with a potato. :/

******Back to the show!********************************************************

I was busy cleaning the chambers of a pistol in the dining room when we began to descend. I had just finished with the barrel, and was beginning to clean the chamber when we entered the atmosphere. The ship lurched, then groaned and creaked as the pressure of the atmosphere suddenly compressed around it. I was sent crashing to the ground, where I quickly righted myself and rolled onto my feet. The gun parts also clattered under the table, making me jump. I decided that I didn't flying very much.

I quickly gathered up the gun pieces and assembled them again in record time. I shoved the gun into my thigh holster and ran into the main control deck. 

Tarn was sitting calmly in his usual spot at the helm, one clawed pedde tucked gently under the other, and an ornate crystal "mug" filled with steaming energon. 

Kaon was on the opposite end of the room, his audio-receptors tuned in to several different radio stations, and his digits were flying over a keyboard, and countless switches and dials. 

Vos was brooding in one corner, currently engaged in the act of sharpening the spikes and screws of his faceplate. 

Helex was staring out of the window from a spot beside Kaon.

I followed his gaze, and was quickly lost for intakes. 

The planet itself was small, perhaps only half the size of Cybertron, but it glowed like a burning ember in the dark empty space. Thousands upon thousands of lights shown brilliantly from both the surface of the planet and the cracks that lead inside the planet.

It was so....alive. I had never seen a planet from space other than when we departed from Cybertron, so regardless it was breathtaking. However, years of war had ravaged Cybertron, making her now appear dead, and hollow. But this planet-This planet was bursting with life. I had never seen something so beautiful in my entire life. 

"Kaon," Tarn called from the control panel. "Am I all clear?"

"Weather's looking damn fine, at least so say the reports of people with eyes," Kaon began. "And the landing docks are saying that they're ready for you at L95, fourth row down. Traffic's looking a bit crazy, but it's not awful. What is awful is whatever kind of music the ship behind us is playing. Honestly, this is soooo five years ago!" 

"Just because it's old doesn't mean it isn't good." Tarn replied. "A lot of the music I listen to is years older than that!"

"Yeah and it sucks." Kaon muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

 Tarn deigned to make no comment. Instead concentrating on steering the ship. Though I thought I heard him mumble something I couldn't make out, but it sounded a lot like, "Stupid young kid....grew up listening to trash....has got no taste in art or class....uncivilized disappointment." I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

The planet got nearer, and nearer, until the landing dock came into view. 

Little did I know just how weird this trip was about to get.

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

Hey guys! I apologize for not posting yesterday, I spent most of it hunched over my desk painting the piece you saw earlier! It's a parody of the MTMTE 07 cover with Tarn's face on it with the rain and lightning. I thought it was so cool that I HAD to do a piece of that with Dreadflight instead. I had the lineart sitting around for a few months and I finally painted it. Also my mug with Bae*cough* Tarn *cough cough* came in this week and it makes me so happy. I would've worked on this earlier this weekend but I had to take my cat to the vet for an emergency visit on Saturday so.... yeah. That and I'm kind of addicted to Howrse right now. :/ 

Yeah

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Yeah... I know I know. Anyway. Hopefully you know the drill and if you don't! Keep It classy! Make good choices! And God Bless!

~swordsandroses

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