koilungfish | Still on autofish

14/3/07 - Quiet, pt 2 [TF:G1, pre-Earth]

         They lost two of the helicopters in the groves, and the one who followed them in went down in flames. From the base of Gear Arch Bluestreak could still see the dim glow of the fire, the orange glow fading amongst the trees, the column of smoke dark against the band fo rosy sky between shadowy trees and everdark sky.
         He sat down beside Jazz, with his back to the massive half-gear and tipped his head back, looking up and up its side until it vanished into the starless darkness above. Gear Arch filled his vision like a Cybertronian tower leaning sideways, its back ragged like a cog-wheel, its sides smooth as polished armour.
         "Who built it?" he whispered to Jazz.
         The saboteur turned to look at him, and amongst the rustle of the trees and the ever-so-faint crackle of the fire, Bluestreak could hear the tensors in Jazz's neck move.
         "Don' know," Jazz whispered back.
         Prowl, standing watchfully nearby, glanced at them. The flash of his red chevron in the blueish gloam startled Bluestreak. Behind Prowl, Mirage sat cleaning his rifle, and Smokescreen sprawled half-hidden in the underbrush. Hound, Bluestreak knew, was patrolling the area.
         Bluestreak cocked his head, listening. There was no sound in the air but the wind. "Do the Decepticons have any stealth jets?" he asked Jazz, the only person close enough to whisper to.
         "Don' know either," Jazz replied, sliding himself closer. In the interests of quieter conversation, the saboteur accidentally scraped his back on Gear Arch, raising a loud squeal of metal.
         Everyone froze.
         "Sssh!" Prowl snapped. Smokescreen propped himself up on one elbow and gave Jazz a stern look from under his chevron. Mirage continued putting his rifle back together.
         "See, thing is," Jazz said softly, leaning over until he was nose-to-missile-launcher with Bluestreak, "all anyone knows is that 'con cruiser went down all suddenly three days ago and we got rushed in on one chance and one chance only."
         "Which is?" Bluestreak asked. Bombs? Important Decepticons? Prisoners? Energon?
         "It's one of the new 'con cruisers, Bluestreak!" Jazz grinned. "One of the ones with the all-gears all-weather-tyres super-doodad stealth generators."
         " ... we came here to steal a stealth generator?" Bluestreak asked, a little surprised.
         "Sure!" Jazz said, earning a glower from Prowl for being mildly over-exuberant in volume.
         "Is it really worth it?" Bluestreak asked as quietly as he could.
         "What?" Jazz asked.
         "I said, is it really worth all this for a stealth generator?"
         "Best chance we're gonna get to get one," Jazz said with a nod. He patted Bluestreak on the knee as quietly as possible. The clink-clink was still painfully audible over the low sigh of the breeze and the shushing of trees. "We're gonna save a lot of lives."
         "Yeah ... but ... how many Decepticons are we facing?" Bluestreak worried. "A few? Many? Lots?"
         "Well ... ain't nobody special, 'cause we'd've heard from 'em by now if there was." Jazz glanced in the direction of the fire, a dim suggestion of orange light in the distance. "All I know is there's one less now than there was this morning."