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Orders From Optimus Prime to Whirl of Polyhex.
Within the next two arcs, you have three orders to follow:
Step One - Go to the alley behind the old relinquishment clinic on Cobalt Avenue. You know the one.
A clawed pede clacked against the poorly kept up alley which had several bolts missing from the pathway’s panels. It stunk of battery acid and fumes of the more toxic varieties of engex. He wasn’t a stranger to such places, however when official business from the big OP himself brought him to dives like this, he was a little more than on edge.
Optic on a swivel, trusty blaster on his side, and his mind racing, he began calculating all the ways he could use his surroundings as a weapon. A few loose bolts, good projectiles. A scrap of thin, elongated metal off by a doorway, midway down the alley could be a passable makeshift blade given enough force behind it. That would do. Oh and the wires dangling from above! How could he forget! Such wonderful and versatile tools that could range from restraints to additional weapons when tied around a mech, preventing them from escaping and transforming, lest they wanted to get caught in a complicated and possibly deadly jumble of wire. It was a nasty way to go and one of the more entertaining ways to kill that Whirl had stumbled upon in his so far brief stint with the newly formed Autobots. He knew Optimus didn’t approve of such cruel ways to kill an opponent in combat, however Whirl found that to be the precise appeal of such a tactic.
Hey if we’re in a war, might as well make it entertaining.
Despite his now growing enthusiasm for his surroundings based purely on its capacity for damage, Whirl still wasn’t sure why Optimus chose this location. He was strangely vague with his orders.
Whirl didn’t like that.
Not one bit…
Step two - A rendezvous team will meet with you.
SCREEEEEEEEE- SCRRRREEE- SCREE-
An unsettling scratching sound of metal on metal reverberated through the alley as Whirl was now perched on an empty box, attempting to sharpen his claws on the wall of the old relinquishment clinic by scraping them against the metallic surface (It's an ugly old building. What's a few extra scratches on its walls? Whirl thought to himself.) A sickening snap of metal giving way sounded off as the excessively sharpened tip of his claw cracked off, falling to the ground.
“Mech of a bolt sucker…” Whirl cursed to himself upon realizing he now had to restart his job of sharpening the claw. It had taken him six whole kliks! Damn wall…he gave it a forcible slash with his other claw and a kick for good measure. The three new slashes in the wall served as some empty sort of satisfaction of revenge for his mildly damaged servo. He was getting antsy. It was a little over two arcs. They should have met him by now. That itch tingled at the base of his helm, at the top of his spinal strut. That same feeling when he knew a fight was coming.
His audials picked up pedesteps. Someone was here.
“So you’re my late night rendezvous.” Whirl only turned partially around on the box to get a look at the mechs Optimus sent to meet him, optic lidded half way in a sense of boredom. It quickly expanded to full size as he saw his new visitors. There were ten of them. “Lucky me…wait.”
Purple paint jobs.
Black armor.
‘Cons and the remnants of the Senate’s forces working together? Well, he had seen all sorts of things happen and Whirl wasn’t one to check a gift horse in the mouth. It had been a few days since his last fight…too long.
He waited until they stepped closer.
Step Three - Take them to the new location of our base.
“Hey, Whirl is it?”
They knew his name. It had to be a trap. Some sort of test. Either way these mechs were going down. Hard.
“I wouldn’t bother asking.” Whirl quipped, optic darting over to where the long, thin strip of metal was a few paces away from the box on the other wall of the alley, across from him. He could make it in a leap if he had to. His antenna on his helm bristled. For now, his blaster would do. “You won’t be around long enough to need to know it!”
With a fluid gesture, Whirl flipped his blaster from his hip to his servo, holding it steadily as he shot the two mechs furthest from him. They fell quickly, one struggling to get up from a shot to the chest as the other stayed down, offlined. He could deal with the closer ones easier in hand-to-hand combat. As much as he enjoyed a good piece of hardware, he did love a close quarters fight.
“AAHHHHH!!” The howl of pure indignation sounded from Whirl as if a guttural battlecry, his claw closing around the nearest mech’s arm as his other slashed through their neck cabling which gave away with a snap. A spurt of energon obscured his optic, causing him to give an aggressive shake to his helm to clear his vision as he honed in on looking at his next target. Four of the mechs had drawn their weapons as the rest appeared to be unarmed. Seven left in total. Easy.
“Whirl, Whirl! This has to be a misund-GAHH!” The nearest mech, a purple hued flier, now was down an arm as Whirl has grasped their forearm with a claw as he used the rest of his frame to slam into them with full force, causing their arm to tear at the elbow, blaster dropping to the ground in a clatter as chaos broke loose. Several blasts went wide, one nearly clipping one of Whirl’s wing tips as he tackled the same mech, using the handle of his blaster to repeatedly bash the mech’s faceplate. Their optic glass cracked, one shattering completely as their optics finally faded out into unconsciousness.
Next one…er, two.
Indeed it was two opponents he had to face now as Whirl saw two mechs in Senate armor head towards him, one a maroon color as the other was a darkened shade of teal. His vision caught a straggler, one of the unarmed mechs running. A quick shot took out their knee as they collapsed to the ground in a hollering heap, another shot to the head had them down for the count as Whirl sprung up, kicking off of the wall as he leapt over the pair.
One had a gun, a smaller model that was a standard carry for many Senate mercenaries and shot several times, missing, although that last shot was uncomfortably close to Whirl’s leg. Landing behind them he grabbed a few bolts off of the ground, spinning to get momentum as he launched the bolts at them, full speed.
A scream let Whirl know one of the bolts had made its target as he now saw the end of it embedded into the optic of a mech who now clutched their helm in agony. Their gun was dropped, however the other mech dove down to grab the blaster. It didn't matter, Whirl had one of his own.
Keyword: Had.
“I wouldn’t do- SLAG!” Whirl’s taunt was cut short as one of the other mechs shot his own blaster from his servo, the awkward size of his claw made him unable to recover the fumble of his weapon as he let the blaster drop, venting heavily upon darting forward and coming up with a new plan of attack. The clang of his clawed pedes signaled the closing of the distance between himself and his quarry. The other mech had grabbed the discarded gun first, but Whirl used this to his advantage, grabbing the gun as well around the barrel, forcing its aim to go past him as he pulled the gun towards him, bringing the mech that held it along with it.
CRACK! Whirl swung one of his arms forward, the large circular propeller of his forearm slamming into the mech’s helm, causing a sizable dent to the side of their helm as their optics offlined, likely due to brain module damage. Their grip loosened, allowing Whirl to take the gun as he stomped a pede over the fallen mech’s chassis for good measure.
“Better luck next time…uh, didn’t quite get your name. eh, don't care. NEXT!” His yell echoed down the alleyway, eerie in its sound as if he wasn’t just a single mech but a hidden army laying in wait. The remaining three were before him now. Two armed, headed his way. One unarmed that stayed back as if unsure to actually confront him or not. Good. They were making this easier than he expected.
Time to make things a little more challenging. Whirl magnetized the gun to his back as he leaned to the side, taking up the thin strip of metal into a servo as he twirled it in a circle, getting a feeling of the weight of the piece of scrap in his claw. Yea, this’ll do.
Both guns were raised, a barrage of shots raining past Whirl he dodged most of them, using metal as a spinning deflective shield to take the brunt of the blasts as he twisted around at the last minute. The momentum of his act allowed for the impromptu blade of metal to sheethe itself past the midsection paneling of one of the mechs, a ground vehicle Decepticon, a speedster was Whirl’s guess due to his excessively sized vents. A groan sounded from the mech, louder again as Whirl tugged the blade of now mangled metal from his chassis, spinning it above his helm before bringing it down for one last good slap to the side of the mech’s helm. He toppled over unceremoniously.
“Oh! You know you should really move out of my way when I start up like this. NEXT!” The demand came as his new rallying cry, causing the mech before him to flinch but not before dropping their gun, drawing out their own blade which was less of a sword’s length and closer to that of an elongated knife.
The other mech was green and purple, another ground vehicle, but less lithe than the previous one and built closer to the mass of a tank. He lunged forward, knife missing Whirl who dodged, dragging his own blade down across the calf plating of one of the mech’s left leg. Energon flowed freely now as he knew he struck a fuel line, not an arterial one, but one nonetheless. The mech, undeterred, followed Whirl’s movement quicker than he expected as Whirl dodged the knife a second time, footing becoming unstable as he overcorrected his balance, working with the mistake by moving into the motion. Of course this now meant he was sending himself careening into his attacker, however he raised the blade, ready to bring it down onto them.
A yell nearly shorted out Whirl’s vocalizer as he felt the chilling length of the knife go into his left shoulder, catching on his main joint mechanism, tearing past tendon cabling. “GAAAH!”
Oh, now they’d done it.
Whirl fell on top of the mech with a grunt, feeling the knife twist, severing a few extra wires as he realized he couldn’t feel that arm now.
Whatever, like I even need it to win against only two mechs.
Primus, he could do that with no arms for all he cared. Although he preferred not to as he now stabilized himself, straddling the mech as he leaned back up, tossing his blade to the side as he grabbed the mech’s arm away from holding the knife which remained embedded in his shoulder paneling. A wail sounded from them as he crushed one of their servos with his remaining claw which began pounding furiously against their faceplate. Another dent. Another scratch. Another dent on that stupid, crummy, Decepticon piece of-
“Whirl, WHIRL! Please, really this has to be a misunderstanding. I swear!”
The final mech snared Whirl’s attention, glowing orb of an optic snapping up to focus intently on them as if they now held the secrets to every answer he had ever wanted in his entire life. Even if they did, he wasn’t sure that would stop him from coming over to them now. No. He knew it wasn’t enough.
He briefly wondered if they believed in Primus, attempting to recall the last time he believed in such superstitions himself. Back when he had his shop perhaps…Unfortunately for this mech, that time was long ago. Grabbing ahold of the mech below him’s helm he gave it one last slam into the ground, causing sparks to spurt out of a vent on the sides of their helm signaling a shortened brain module.
Whirl’s vocalizer was shaky now, no less intimidating than his previous calls, although much more quiet now. “Next…”
“Oh…oh Primus…what- no, no!” The mech ran past Whirl, giving him a wide berth as if going for a running start in an attempt to lift off in their alt mode which appeared to be aerial. Taking ahold of the knife in his shoulder, Whirl yanked it out with a restrained moan, feeling a few more tendon cables snap against the serrated edge of the blade as he used his remaining servo to launch it upwards. It cut a wire in the mass of wires that hung above him, causing a lengthy spiral of the wire to cascade down around him as he took an end of it, beginning to swing a bundle of it in a windmill style motion as he watched the other mech begin to leap up. They were midway through transforming when Whirl’s aim struck true, a coil of the wire hooking around the mech’s chassis as they began to click into their alt mode of a jet.
A jarring clang was followed by the miserable whine of straining machinery which sounded from the mech as Whirl knew they were stuck halfway in their transformation sequence. Perfect. Wrapping the wire around his wrist twice for good measure, Whirl gave a hefty tug downwards, pulling the now trapped remaining mech down to the ground in a half transformed mess. As their partially shorted out vocalizer began screeching in pain Whirl twisted the wire around his wrist again for good measure before giving an abrupt wrench upon the wire which contracted in a sore attempt to draw itself back in, but only served to sever a leg and the helm of the mech off of it’s rather discombobulated frame.
The screeching stopped, however the whirring of the mech’s frame attempting to transform still continued for another few moments after his spark was extinguished before seeming to give up upon realizing the futility of attempting to transform a deceased mech. “I guess you can teach an old turbofox new tricks…”
He gazed around at his work, making sure they were all offline, if not deceased, before transforming hastily, already phoning Optimus as he reached the sky. Streams of energon dripped off of his frame and down into the sky as if a premature sort of rain to the storm formations that appeared to be on the horizon. Most of this energon wasn’t his at least, although he’d definitely have to get Ratchet to fix his arm. Whirl gave a huff of his vents as he tried to think of a way to approach the subject with their resident medic. Scrap below, he’s a medic, it shouldn’t he that hard to ask for a fix up…well, its not that hard I’m just sick of dodging flying wrenches from that old gasket …
The line picked up with a click.
“It’s done, Optimus.”
“You’re back? That’s good. Thank you, Whirl. I hope the task wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Back already? Ha! You’re really overestimating me there. Give me another arc and I’ll be back at base. As for that little task…it’s done. Messy, but done.”
“Messy? I…I’m not sure I understand, Whirl.”
“Oh you know exactly what I mean. I get it if you want to keep it on the down low, I’m sure Bee and Ironhide wouldn’t approve. Gotta do what you gotta do, boss mech. Besides, I enjoyed the little skirmish! Remind me to thank you for that thoughtful present.”
Optimus’s tone was growing hesitant now as he seemed to be utterly confused on what Whirl was getting at. “Present?”
"Thank you for sending the assassins after me by the way, I really needed that. It meant a lot to me."
"Assassins?” Optimus’s tone grew solemn as he began to sense at what Whirl had done. “Whirl...what did you do to them?"
A snicker escaped Whirl's vocalizer. He wasn't entirely sure the Prime would have it in him to see the aftermath. Then again the Autobot leader was always surprising him. "What I do best, Optimus. Duh. What else?"
“Those mechs I told you to meet and lead back to base?”
“Gutter bait. Well, spare parts mostly. I think some were still kicking, but-”
“You. Killed. Them?” Uh oh…Whirl slowed down his flight as he drifted slowly forward upon hearing Optimus’s shocked tone.
“Well, not all of them, but- hey it was a bunch of Decepticons and Senate forces members! What was I supposed to do? Let them tear me apart?!”
“No! Whirl, you were supposed to lead them back to base! Do you know who they were?”
“Decepticons and Senate forces members!”
“No!! They were double agents, Whirl. Our double agents. Of course they looked like that, they were fresh out of their covers, about to report back with you as their guide back to base! They needed you to guide them since they were in deep cover and didn’t have access to Autobot frequencies to hear about our base location moving.”
Scrap…now, he’d really done it this time.
“Are you sure because-?”
“Very.”
Whirl chuckled uneasily, having heard that sort of tone from Optimus perhaps only twice in his entirety of knowing him, “Ah…well, uh, tell Ratchet to get the med bay ready and ask Bee to hide all the wrenches in a ten kilometer radius, would you?”
It was going to be a long night.