Transformers Animated: Morning Star: Ch 03: Objective: Defend: Part 1

Transformers Animated: Morning Star: Ch 03: Objective: Defend: Part 1

Aug 10, 2021, 7:58:04 PM Creative

“I-Is that Megatron? The Megatron? The Megatron?!” Bumblebee practically screeched as he stared at the visual screen, watching as the Megatron, as he so swiftly put it, was lasering straight through the ship’s roof in an attempt to enter the carrier forcefully.

Greenblade would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel like swinging her sword at him if he didn’t shut that motormouth of his. The look she received from Optimus Prime told her what she had dreaded to be told. Her and her sister’s travel to their rendezvous point would be delayed, especially with an uninvited guest. She could feel her optics narrow in response. She would have said something about it, but even she couldn’t deny the fact that if they didn’t get rid of their latest travelling companion, then they could forget about getting to point B.

Optimus pushed himself off the wall, ready to give out orders, axe in servo when the ship rocked once more, this time sliding her against the wall behind her harder than before, knocking her clean out.


When she came to, her helm was throbbing, the ship’s lighting was down, and the mechs around her were floating around. Zero gravity. She had never understood why gravity would need to be altered within a ship when stability was important, but she had never been so grateful for it, especially once she saw who had officially boarded the ship.

Holding onto a crack on the inside was a large, grey mech that easily towered over her, possibly twice her size, if not more. Her height barely reached Optimus’s shoulders on a good day, so did Blueflame’s, a height difference she was certain Bumblebee didn’t mind. She pushed the thought from her processing unit, deciding to leave her knowledge of Bumblebee drooling after her sister for later.

Looking around, Greenblade cursed to herself, unable to find her sword. A rule her fathering unit had taught her was to never let yourself be disarmed. A disarmed opponent was an easy opponent to someone who had a weapon and knew how to use it, and if the mech whose back was towards her was truly the bot Bumblebee believed him to be, then he definitely knew how to use the sword he held in his servo.

From the corner of her optic, Greenblade watched Prowl launch himself towards the larger mech. A foolish attempt that she knew could easily be cut through, which Megatron proved, only for Prowl to fizz out. A holographic clone. Smart. A nano click later the real Prowl appeared from behind the Decepticon, slicing with his shuriken, further disarming the missing limbed mech.

This was her first time seeing Prowl truly in action, and she had to admit, he was good, but sitting around and silently admiring him wasn’t going to help either of them. Her first thought was to run to her sister, search for an escape route and hope that they could hitch a ride to their true destination. She could stay and try to help, but this wasn’t her fight. Not hers. Never hers.

Pushing herself upwards, Greenblade searched for her sword, cursing to herself when she found it within Bumblebee’s servos. Her temper flared at the sight, various warning signals going off in her CPU about why it was wrong for him to be holding the one object she had to remember her parents by.

The tiny idiot lifted the sword above his helm and charged straight towards Megatron with a yell. Stupid, stupid mech, she hissed to herself. Not only didn’t he have experience with the weapon he chose, but he announced to his opponent where he was attacking from, an honourable but stupid move. As expected, Megatron backhanded the smaller mech like he was nothing more than a nanobot, sending him swerving like a wheel stuck in a hole in the road.

She jumped towards him, not to help, but to grab her weapon. Her servo was outstretched towards it, almost within reach, when Megatron swung his own sword out, knocking it out of her range. Cursing to herself, Greenblade turned herself around to face him. If she was going to be cut down, then she preferred to look the mech that did it in the optic, a final challenge for him to try and end her lifecycle.

He raised his sword arm and brought it down swiftly. She found herself unable to keep her optics focused on his crimson orbs, dimming her own optics in what she could only blame as cowardice. The kind of cowardice her father would have punished her for, lectured her for and forced her to pay for by repeatedly training and training to face her own death repeatedly until her energon reserves ran out, and then some.

The deathblow never came. One moment her vision had gone dark, the next she felt a pair of strong arms around her waist, propelling her off to the side, to safety. Her optics onlined to see that it was Optimus Prime himself hauling her out of the way. She would have protested and shoved him away if it weren’t for the fact that he just saved her hide. Saved her. Saved her sister.

“Stay out of reach,” Optimus ordered, pinning her to the wall behind her. her optics must have narrowed again, judging from what he said next. “Please.”

Whether his concern was for her or for the fact that she and other femmes were basically considered to be an endangered species, she didn’t know., nor did she care. She bit down her retort and shoved him to the side, searching for her sword again. She needed to get to her sister.


Clang! Clack! Crash!

Over and over Blueflame listened to the sounds in the room next door. Greenblade was fighting. She could hear as much. She counted the voices of their travelling companions and one other. Not one that had been on the video call Greenblade had kept her from. No, this one was closer. Much closer. And far more dangerous.

Each slam, every cry, slam, and metallic ring had her covering her audios as if the sound itself was enough to burst into the room, wrap its servo around her throat and squeeze the very spark out of her.

Louder and louder. She found herself whimpering, memories of a bright white light and beautiful, sky blue flames flooding her processor in a race to dominate. Her optics dimmed, her frame feeling like it was on the verge of giving out when a soft humming vibration cut through those thoughts, sending a cooling sensation washing over her as if some bot had grabbed a barrel of coolant and tossed it clean over her.

Panting, she stared at the source of the calming feeling. As if it was staring straight at her, the Allspark hummed, creating a clicking sound as it parted itself into four sections and shone brightly, beckoning for her to approach.

She did.

Published by Fang Wolfsbane

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