Chapter Text
What made Blades consider taking point on missions again? Maybe it was the fact that he needed a break from that determined tank that kept pushing and prodding at his personal boundaries. Could have been his own promise to Disk keeping him from bowing out entirely.
Due to the dense rainforest near this particular mine, the Peaceful Tyranny landed more than twenty kliks from their base. Thankfully, his alt-mode allowed him to get a head start on the hunt, though not without a stern warning from Tarn to avoid a repeat of what happened with Wrenstrike.
Already the similarities in landscape was giving him a similar feeling to that previous experience, though he at least had that space he so desperately needed. The sticky air made him feel like he was swimming rather than flying above the rainforest and the early morning fog was leaving him with a condensate that rolled off his frame.
There was nothing but an expanse of greenery in all directions, leaving him to entirely trust his chronometer to tell him that he wasn’t flying in circles.
Maybe he should have asked Tarn what to look out for before he left. Then again, that meant risking small talk that turned dangerously intimate-
A long, high pitched whistling registered in his external audial sensors when he felt something collide with the left side of his cabin. Glass cracked as parts of his fuselage buckled and he dipped below the treeline.
Branches snapped as he came crashing down. Almost on instinct, he transformed into root mode to break his fall, getting vines tangled up into joints and junctions. He ended up suspended somewhere in the canopy layer, too far to properly extend his pedes down and frame almost tilted headfirst.
“Hey, what in the Pit? I thought you were some tourists’ chopper?” A voice rang out from the forest floor beneath him.
“H-huh?” Silverblade mumbled, still rather dazed from that blow. He extended an arm out, then directed his gaze down at the approaching sound of jangling chains.
“Postal or Rally Point didn’t say anything about anyone coming onsite and I thought you were one of those humans who got too close sight-seeing and- OH GAWD! You really are one of ours-” The boatformer gawked at Diskshift’s still-freshly welded insignia on his shoulder pauldron. “Let me get you out of this.”
“...Sure,” he blinked at the rambling ‘Con. It wasn’t though he would have any objections to having all this organic junk removed. Though her appearance was… weird. Since when were Decepticons allowed to have blue optics? And that many holographic decal stickers? Wait, was that a sail mast on her back?
A servo pushed against the back of his helm and balanced him upright while she tore the plant debris off his limbs. A few more yanks on the vines and he was finally on his pedes.
“Don’t worry about this stuff getting stuck in hard-to-reach places, there’s this really great pressure sprayer back at base-”
She nearly jumped out of her plating at the sight of energon trickling from his dented chassis. “Ah- oh umm- We don’t have a medic in right now, but I can stop the bleeding and check you out for damage. I’ll make it quick, I promise it shouldn’t take more than a couple kliks.”
He groaned as he rubbed a palm over his visor. Maybe it was her panic that was contagious. Or he was getting a helmache from how he could barely make sense of her train of thought. But this Con wasn’t easing his nerves.
Her attention remained on the injury as she unsubspaced a pair of dark patches, a clean rag, and a can of antiseptic spray. “When I comm base and tell them you’re here, please, please, tell them it was just a huge misunderstanding. I-” She bit derma as she wiped away at the warm energon splatter and muttered under her breath, “I’m sort of on what they call a ‘probationary’ period back at base and busting up a fellow ‘Con is not going to look good on my record.”
“Okay,” Blades backed off as soon as she placed the patches on her. Getting treated made him feel guilt for everything that was bound to happen.
“You don’t have to worry about that- there’s probably something else you should be worried about.” He glanced away, trying to pick his words carefully. “See… I’m actually here on a mission that involves some of your teammates.”
That may have been a poor choice, the Aquaticon instantly bristled and ran up to him. “Wait- oh slag, is this about the whole thing with the accident trend from a while back?” She gave a nervous laugh, though her optics were clearly wide with panic. “We’re doing our best to make sure the Vehicons know the risks of working with that stuff. Carrion actually has this really great safety plan and Scholastic and I are making sure to drill them on using their PPE-”
“No- It’s not that,” he ex-vented and tried his best to keep his patience and sanity intact in this interaction. It was stressful enough that he was practically working on very limited time. “Just. Hear me out for a klik, please.”
She quieted down, though he could still feel the anxiety radiating from her EM field.
“I’m with… people who are here because they’re charging Carrion and Marina with a lot of things.” He momentarily recalled that the aforementioned “treason” charge was on both their records. “They’re with your team back at base, right?”
She froze up at that but managed a single nod. A subtle shiver barely registered in his peripheral as he looked around at their surroundings. No sounds of foliage breaking or particular voices that he could pick up.
“Good. Let’s get there before I have to check in with T-” he cut himself off, recognizing that saying that name was probably going to give her a panic attack at this rate. “-with the higher ups. Those two need to get out here, now.”
She fidgeted with the medical supplies in her servos, nearly slipping the can out from her digits as she started scrambling towards the base.
“Hey, wait up!” Blades was astonished by how much distance she covered in a matter of nanokliks. He couldn’t figure how someone with boat kibble could run that fast, much less with this much tree cover.
Wincing at every step, he managed to keep a pace behind her retreating form.
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The clearing they finally reached appeared replete with human activity. Excavators and heavy-duty trucks lined one side of the grassy area and piles of lumber lay right before them.
“Madeireira Piemonte.” He read out a wooden sign near a dirt pathway, tracing the carved wooden hills with a digit.
“That’s our cover.” The boatformer had stopped near a few of the excavators, glancing back at him as she set asides the items and lifted one of the machines from a dirt-crusted metal cover. “The name’s a bit of an inside joke, but the reason we have it looking like some fleshies’ lumber yard is so that Autobots don’t instantly think it’s a Decepticon mine.”
“Alright,” Blades went over to her. “So then if this is what’s on the outside, where are the actual mines?”
She opened up the control panel and pulled on a bright red handle. Hydraulics wheezed and the ramp cover rose and opened up to reveal a wide hangar entrance.
“Oh,” He moved back in surprise, the resulting dust cloud and dirt clods obscuring his vision for a moment.
“Pooooost, I’m back! Sorry for not comming you earlier but we have a bit of a situation,” She called down, then turned back to Blades, motioning him to go down the large ramp. “I think this guy can fill you in better than I can.”
The copter entered into the space, noting how deceptively expansive it was. A collection of handheld mining equipment lined one side of the expanse. And on the other side was… what looked like a berth suited for the almost shuttle-sized Cybertronian in the center of the room.
“Sweetspark…” The enormous Decepticon filled a quarter of the width of the entrance standing and craned her neck down to look at the two. “You weren’t supposed to have come back so soon, Marina…”
He pieced together what was going on before Marina did, evidently. Wow. He couldn’t believe a Con would just let someone on The List out to die. Well he supposed trying to hide them or let them escape would have their own set of repercussions but this was cold.
Postal’s attention turned over to Blades and an instant flash of confusion came over her. “Who are you? You’re not D.J.D.”
The Energon in his lines ran cold as she went over to get a closer look at him. After minding his insignias, she regarded him with further suspicion.
“What is your business here? It was explicitly made clear that I would leave her outside for them to handle,” she gave a disappointed huff. “You shouldn’t be getting involved with an execution that she deserves.”
“Wait-” Marina stepped in front of him, taking one look at Blades, then back at Postal. “No. No no no no no- you’re not making me go out there with them hunting me and Carrie down! I’m staying in here, I don’t care if you have to literally kick me out yourself.”
Postal didn’t even hesitate as she went over and nudged the Aquatronian with her pede. “I have had enough of protecting you from the consequences of your actions.”
“Oww- HEY!” Marina fell over, though couldn’t catch her breath before Postal gave another light tap with her pede.
Blades backed off and helplessly watched as Postal forced the smaller Decepticon up the ramp.
She punctuated each sentence with a kick, “Petty theft was one thing. I wouldn’t even punish you for taking all those precious ores for yourself. I know every single reason the Autobots were going to send you to Garrus-1. But outright high treason? After all I did for you and-”
She paused for a moment as Marina’s previous statement fully registered. Just as soon as she was chasing the boatformer out, she power walked over to Blades and crouched down.
“Ahh!” He jumped back. This Con moved surprisingly fast for someone her size.
Postal frown deepened as she leaned over him, “Is she lying to me or are they looking for Carrion too?”
“Someone’s looking for me?” A seeker called out from the mine entrance at the furthest part of the hangar. “Is that what this ruckus is about? I could hear you three from my office, we could all have a civil conversation instead of-”
The newcomer took in the scene before him, spotting Marina lying face down in the middle of the ramp and Postal practically primed to pounce on Blades, and sighed, “Taking these rather extreme measures.”
He walked over to the Con, a slightly amused expression gracing his weathered features as he outstretched a servo. “Apologies on behalf of our team, this is likely a result from the stress from the recent disaster response incident. I don’t believe we have ever met before, you are?”
The authority in his voice had Postal standing straight and Marina getting up. Blades found that weird. For someone who was also being accused of treason, it seemed like he was really respected and straight-laced.
“Silverblade, sir,” He shook Carrion’s servo. “And hate to stress you all out more and be the bearer of bad news, but the D.J.D. are here to execute you and Marina.”
The seeker’s servo stiffened almost imperceptibly before pulling away, though Carrion managed to maintain an affable disposition. “I see. Pray tell then, why are you risking your life by warning us?”
Blades felt a surge of resolve. It seemed as though this group was much more willing to hear him out, and that only furthered his urge to save them. He had a duty, a promise to Diskshift to fulfill.
“Because I’m not about to let that happen.”