Tarn didn't move, a cold stony exterior was expertly hiding an exhausted body that was about to collapse at any given moment. His knee joints felt like they were melting, and his back hurt so badly it had gone numb. Not to mention the powerful green spark that was beating out of his violet chest.
"I'll be taking that datapad," said the Black Soldier, as Tarn had decided to call him, with a smirk. Twenty guns were pointed at him, all rifles of the same make, Tarn noted. This was a squad trained for this sort of task, interesting. A golden shaft of sunlight broke through the light cloud cover that had been constant since they had landed, making the leg of the soldier in front of him glint, catching Tarn's eye. A serial code was printed into the armor. A cloning factory perhaps? Upon further examination, he realized that, no, not a cloning factory, they were dates. Years and months, along with what looked like a codename. Not clones, mercenaries.
"Any day now," The soldier said in a threatening song song voice. "You're testing my patience."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Tarn replied smoothly. His energon roared in his audial receptors, his spark was beating too fast. He wondered if he was old enough to be at risk of a spark attack. Surely not, he wasn't even 11 million yet! Though the thought was worrying. "Though, I'm not sure you understand. You seem to have the wrong impression. You see..."
Tarn began to slowly back up, the guns were still trained on him, but he knew they wouldn't fire. They didn't know where the datapad was located on his body, and therefore didn't want to shoot him and chance destroying it in the process.
"...I don't have the datapad."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kaon whistled to himself, typing away at the command module, and occasionally giving Fluffy head scritches between sentences. A black datapad was plugged into the data collection unit, quietly uploading the very important kill-worthy information that Kaon honestly didn't care about. That was Tarn's job, Kaon just had to write pages worth of code, break down firewalls, read maps, listen to radio~waves and in general be the team nerd. Because that's so impressive, at least he didn't have to help work on the engine room, or fix the furnace whenever it burned out. He hated manual labor. He sighed, and switched the song he was listening to. he started humming along and resumed ignoring the crashing and loud yelling going on not ten feet beside him as Dreadflight found out just how appalling Helex's piloting skills were. It was times like this he was glad he didn't have eyes to see the destruction their ship was no doubt causing.
At least he didn't have to apologize for it. That was also Tarn's job.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soldier's left eye had contracted a nervous tick. Tarn watched with vague amusement. Honestly, they might be good at hounding someone, but they clearly couldn't tag objects or bypass a fake signal to save their lives. Morons.
Anyway, the guards turned to each other, trying to figure out what was going on.
"You...you....YOU HAD THE SIGNAL! YOU'RE LYING!" The Black soldier screeched, he was shaking his head and laughing nervously. Poor idiot.
"Son, I can guarantee you I'm not. Have you never heard of a hard drive?" Tarn cocked his head, still backing away. "If you'd like, I can empty my storage slots. I have a couple of datapads on me, but they aren't useful to you. Not unless you want to learn how the air conditioning system works on my ship-well, I use the word "works" generously. I'd say a better word is how the air conditioning system occasionally blows lukewarm air on your peddes on a good day. But I digress."
"That's it," The soldier growled, he curled his lip plates into a snarl. "You're dead. On my signal-"
"No, no, no," Tarn interrupted, taking a big step behind him, onto the banister of the temple's roof. "Allow me." He began to lean backwards, and fell off of the roof.
The soldiers all stared at the empty spot, not sure what to do. They'd never dealt with a semi-competent enemy before, so the idea of someone committing suicide rather than begging for their life was new. And a bit confusing. After all, why would they just end everything.
"Even in dying the mech smites me!" The leader muttered.
"You use the word death a bit soon," Tarn's voice boomed over a megaphone. A rumble shook the temple they were standing on, and a few moments later the Peaceful Tyranny erupted from behind the banister with a ground shaking roar. She was not at all a quiet ship. One of her airlocks was open, and Tarn was leaning against the side of one of these, a microphone in one hand, and the datapad in the other. Beside him, Vos was standing behind an anti-aircraft turret meant to take down ships ten times the size of the one it was mounted on.
Tarn aimed the datapad at the rooftop and flicked it in a gun-like motion, "Boom."
Vos' eyes filled with glee as he pulled the trigger on the turret.
Only to turn angry several minutes later when he would learn that Tarn had loaded that turret with smaller bullets. He wanted to destroy a small squad not massacre a funeral full of people and destroy the temple. Something Vos didn't have a problem with, but Tarn definitely did.
After all of the soldiers had collapsed on the ground, the airlock sealed itself again and the two headed inside. Nickel had finally crawled out of her little den in the basement, and was shaking her head in dissapproval at Tarn.
"You are aware that you are a tank, right? This isn't new?" She asked, her tone patronizing.
"Uh, yeah?" Tarn replied not sure what she meant.
"Ugh, give the adrenaline a minute to stop and you'll know what I mean you uncivilized moronic mountain drill! You didn't even stretch! Do you know what that has done to your legs! I'm surprised your spark hasn't given out yet! Also you're bleeding profusely! Medical ward! Now! I don't want to hear any if's, and's or but's about it! March it!" Nickel screeched. She grabbed Tarn's servo and quickly dragged him to the basement of doom. Their trail marked by Tarn's bloody pedde prints. He would later find out that his wall climbing stunt had made him a lot easier to shoot at, and that there were five new bullet holes in his back.
Needless to say, the D.J.D said some prayers for him as he was dragged once more to the dungeons of his black despair.
************************************************************
HEY GUYS!!!!! Guess who's been posting on time?!!! THIS AWFUL AUTHOR! When I finish this book I am editing some of these chapters, and probably adding some bits, and cutting a lot of filler stuff. So when I announce that this book had been edited, definitely go back and give it a re-read. The beginning of this book is definitely cringe-worthy, so I'm gonna go back and make it shiny. :) Anyway, any thoughts? I miss seeing your guys' comments after I publish, ya'll are hilarious and it brightens up my day. Also, we're almost at 4k guys. 4K!!! Can you believe it??? Anyway, I gtg. bedtime calls!
Keep it Classy! Make Good Choices! Have a Great Week! And God Bless!
~swordsandroses out
P.S. If any of you write fanfiction for mtmte, or prime. Or if you wanna post some art you made from mtmte or anything like that, I would love to see it! Either add it as a comment or post it on one of my announcements! I love seeing the art and the love that goes into our community of robot fanatics. :P
P.P.S. I'll upload a snippet from the book I am about to write. I won't publish until the whole thing is written, but it's high fantasy/modern day all mixed up in an adventure novella. I hope you guys like it! It'll be called, For Sale: Wedding Dress, Never Worn. It's something I wrote for English class, otherwise there would be a far better name. Anyway, I swear I'm done now! I am going to bed! xD
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Predatory
FanfictionWhen Dreadflight, a Decepticon assassin, is apprenticed to the D.J.D, she is surprisingly welcomed. The D.J.D. has their own set of demons, often in the form of Overlord who can't seem to leave them alone, but as well as many nightmares they experie...
