Redemption of the Fallen | TF NOVELLA

1 ✶

Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, was known to be a gracious and kindred soul towards his dear team, awaking those who sheltered in their base with their limited supplies of energon-fuelled mead, and ensuring they stasis-napped soundly to preserve energy within their circuits. He awoke everyone gently by little buzzes midday, or late morning, exhibiting compassion on each and every one of those who chose to stand by his faction.

This was not the kind of leader Megatron was.

"Get your lazy, slagging asses up! There is no time to waste!" the same recording of the brute tyrant's voice would echo through the berthroom's - it would come through Soundwave's transmissions. If that wasn't all, Megatron's chosen high commander would attend each room, pummelling spiky fists would pound at the doors at those still recharging.

His own commanders weren't any different.

"You will have innumerable casualties on you if you immobile fragging lumps of metal don't discard yourselves from your berths right now." the same gruelling words repeated every morning from the brute of the third high-commander, Knight.

Much reluctantly, Cherri arose from her berth, rubbing a servo over her blinking optics. When the dust of her sleep finally left her optics, she glanced to spot a crimson femme arched in front of her, stretching sharply. Her roommate Metallica stood before her. Metallica was a tall, with an assortment of golden spikes around her head and amber shoulder-pads. She was a crimson-plum, wine purple, and mauve, with dark optics and a dusky rose mouth-piece, which was retractable to reveal a pair of vermillion lipped derma's. All while nearly always maintaining a sardonic and ill-mannered demeanour to her each bot she met. She was in relation to the towering, loyal con of a Decepticon: Cyclonus, and shared his leader-like traits. 

"Up early I see."  mumbled Cherri groggily.

"Per usual, Cher." replied Metallica curtly. The two weren't exactly friends, but Metallica gave Cherri out of all people the most respect, and Cherry accepted that as close enough to a friendship. 

Cherri chuckled to herself. Through the war, she enjoyed finding fragments of any happiness and goodwill during these testing times. It wasn't anything near fun in the Decepticon sector, especially as their efforts would be under constant critique and their worth undermined. Metallica was good company to Cherri in these complex times, and she'd never been so grateful to some-bot for that.

Metallica's carmine digits crawled across a sheet of paper-like glass, tracing across shapely letters. She began muttering incoherently. She turned stoutly towards her roommate.

"We're in section-b902, with Skywarp and Knight today." Cherri cursed to herself. Skywarp was tolerable, but Knight was closer in levels to a haughty jerk. Metallica seemed to understand herself, as she nodded in some form of sympathy, as if to communicate telepathically, "I know, ick."

--- ୨୧ ---

Skyblade came toppling over his own little pedes on his way to Prime. In other words, his adopted father. 

"Dad, dad!" Skyblade waded his way towards the big blue Autobot, dusting himself up clumsily. 

The tall leader turned to face the little minicon, who beamed up at him. Prime found it humorous how believable Skyblade looked to being from his own mech. Skyblade was a mix of deep grey, black and blue, his servos a cobalt, as his cyan square patch on his head and horns, his sturdy helm a jet black, and his visor a bright blue. As Skyblade was a mini-con, Prime would often have to kneel down to speak to him. Skyblade owned fluttering seeker wings that were lined in streaks of cornflower blue. He contrasted his big blue and red father nicely. Optimus smiled at his 'son' before patting his head fatherly.