Last and Alone – Secret Part 1
Title: The Secret Slips
Characters: Perceptor, Jazz
Universe: G1-ish/Last and Alone/Monolith
Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own the Transformers© franchise or the characters it contains. They belong to Has/Tak, No infringement intended. Any OC's are to my knowledge are solely mine.
Summary: Perceptor was once part of a gestalt, but the others were destroyed. Since he should never have survived the deaths of his teammates, it's a painful secret he has kept for thousands of vorns. An unexpected continuation of a prompt I took on. It only pretends to have a plot.
After writing for the initial prompt, I sat down and figured it out, Perceptor doesn't even make my top 20 list of favorite Transformers(Is that a bad thing to admit?). And that is still lumping the entire Constructicon team and the all the Dinobots together as one entry each. (Is that a bad thing to admit?) But apparently, after writing him, he grows on you.
While on Cybertron or pre-earth, the units of time and distance are measured in Cybertronian units, as detailed below... it's a mix of IDW, DW and BW
Astrosecond : 0.498 Earth seconds
Nano-klik : 1 Earth second
Klik : 1.2 Earth minutes
Breem : 8.3 Earth minutes
Joor : About 6.5 Earth hours
Cycle: About 93 hours
Orn : About 13 Earth days
Deca-cycle : Approx. 3 weeks
Stellar-cycle : 7.5 months
Meta-cycle : 13 months
Vorn : About 83 Earth years
Timeline for this: probably a few Earth years after The Last and Alone, which actually works out nicely as a prelude/introduction for this storyline. It should, seeing as how this stems from that.
Perceptor was aiding Ratchet with the off lined Hound when he saw the medic twitch. At the same time he felt the eerie tingle that indicated Dirge was in the area. Perceptor stood and turned in time to see Dirge land a few paces off, intent clear in his posture.
"You don't want to do this today Dirge." warned Perceptor as he accessed programming he had kept dormant since waking up on earth and prepared to battle.
"Yes I do, only the medic can't be touched, there's no rule against his staff."
Perceptor saw Jazz coming in the distance, too far away yet to assist, which was just fine with Perceptor. It had been several vorns since he had cut loose, so to speak, in battle. Having played the part of brilliant scientist well. And now after a mere fraction of a vorn on Earth, he found he was ready for some action. Perceptor felt Dirge increase his sub sonic vibrations and smirked at Dirge's confusion in his lack of response. "Your song has no effect on me Dirge." Not quite the truth, but Dirge certainly didn't need to know that. "Nothing's worse than what I live with everyday." And before Dirge had time to puzzle over the odd comment, Perceptor closed in, allowing the rush of hand to hand combat to fill him once again.
Several near misses, kicks, jabs and punches later and Dirge was desperately trying to disengage from the – in his opinion – battle crazed scientist. Who knew the science bot was so good at hand to hand combat anyway? Perceptor however was not interested in letting Dirge escape so quickly. Dirge gained the advantage when in desperation he lined up Ratchet in his sites, standing orders regarding the medic be consigned to the Pit. It had the desired effect. Perceptor moved to cover Ratchet and Hound, taking the brunt of the concussion bomb.
Perceptor tried to respond thru the fog in his CPU as connections came up again from the re-boot.
"Perceptor, you still with us?"
He on lined his optics to a blue visor, black helmed bot and responded with the first name that came from his memory. "Slider."
"Who's Slider?" was the confused response.
Without even thinking Perceptor responded, "One of my gestalt mates." Then stared in shocked horror at Jazz, hoping the saboteur had not heard or understood that response. Judging from Jazz's expression of surprise, obvious even with the visor, he'd heard it.
Perceptor's diagnostics pinged announcing – by some amazing luck - only superficial dents and dings along with some very minor energon leaks. His armor had held. "Ratchet and Hound?" He queried, deciding it best to move the conversation along. The battlefield was not the time to deal with his slip of the vocalizer.
And thankfully Jazz responded as hoped, though his tone was …off. "Back behind the battle lines, we set up a med area. Ratchet scanned you before he left. Said you'd re-boot in a minute or so, that's why your still here. I'm your escort."
"Thank you Jazz, but I have already located the medical area, and can make it safely without your assistance."
"Yeah about that 'Lambo twins' thing you just pulled there on Dirge…" Perceptor did not wait to hear though. The sooner away from Jazz the better. Perceptor climbed to his feet and bolted for the section of battlefield where the medical team was set up. He could not believe he had just let a thousands of vorns old secret slip so simply. If he was lucky, Jazz would perhaps drop that answer as scrambled chips from the emergency re-boot. After all, stranger comments had come from bots coming out of a battlefield re-boot than one thinking he belonged to a gestalt. Though, knowing Jazz, Perceptor would not be so lucky.