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[Jeysie]

Since I finally wrote something TF-related that was longer than 100 words and not intended for a script or contest, I thought I'd start a thread, with hopefully more one-shots to follow someday. Sorry Urzu7, it's not the First Aid & Blades story, I'm still working on that one.

Anyhoo. Short explanation of this particular one-shot is that, since I had to write Skydive out of my initial Fireflight Anniversary Mosaic script, I still wanted to try writing something with him that fit into that same time window of right after Megatron: Origins.

***

The Class of '57

Skydive smirked a little at the mixed reaction from his students to the classroom bell - cheers and grins from those whose testing datapads were already on his desk, groans and a more frantic pace of typing from the rest. "All right. Those of you who are finished, have a good night, and I should have your grades by tomorrow." He waved them on to leave, watching as they packed up their belongings and headed out.

"Those of you who aren't finished, well..." Skydive made a show of glancing at his arm chronometer. "I don't really have anywhere important to be any time soon, so I..."

"Should inform them that your plans have suddenly changed," a voice interrupted smoothly. Skydive glanced over and spotted a figure that had become all-too-familiar in recent times, one who had apparently snuck in amongst the crowd of departing students.

He sighed inwardly, then looked back at his remaining students and made a beckoning gesture. "Yes, it seems that they have. Make that, everyone hand in your tests as they are, and I'll have them graded... within a few days." The chorus of groans started up again as one by one the students reluctantly handed in their datapads and filed out the door.

After the last student had left, the figure offered, "A few days? You really force them to be in suspense for that long?"

"I would have them graded tonight, but..." Skydive leaned back in his chair slightly. "Apparently, 'my plans have suddenly changed'." He tossed a sardonic smile at his visitor - one of the many assistants of the equally numerous Senators. He didn't even know his visitor's name, as the assistant never seemed to be in the mood for small talk. Assuming he even had a name... for all Skydive knew, the Senators' assistants were metallic manifestations of pure elemental bureaucracy.

The assistant smiled slightly in acknowledgment of the successful retort, then continued, "I would think you'd be honored, Professor... that your aerial strategic abilities are so successful and highly regarded. You especially seem to be quite talented at countering these 'Seekers' that the enemy is employing. Almost as if... you had access to some valuable inside information that the Senate does not."

Skydive chuckled dryly. "As a matter of fact, I do have some 'inside information'. But how I came by it isn't nearly as glamorous as any reasons you might be implying."

"It wasn't my intention to imply anything... but, now that you mention it, I would be curious as to how you came by having this inside information."

Skydive responded by opening one of his desk drawers and pulling out a thin rectangular device. It produced a light display over its surface once it was activated, and he thumbed the wheel at the bottom edge until it showed the specific image he needed. He then proffered it to the assistant, who accepted and looked at it curiously. It was currently showing a page with a picture of three similarly-built jet-formers with different color schemes, smirking and mugging for the camera. Below that were various notes scribbled with a stylus:

"I'm allowed to fly circles around you now, Prof. And I will."
"I would pay to see you try, Starscream."
"I could warp circles around them both."
"I'm not sure one can technically 'warp circles', either."
"Thunder, stop being a killjoy."

"Hmm." The assistant looked up and returned the "yearbook". "They were your students, then?"

"Yes." Skydive took the yearbook back and smiled with fond sadness at the picture. "Top of their class, even. The best and the brightest. Well..." He chuckled a little. "Skywarp was a brilliant flier, but not all that bright otherwise, admittedly."

"Apparently none of them were all that bright, if they decided to join the Decepticons."

"Don't be so sure. The promises their leader has been making - of freedom and a better lot in life - have a certain allure."

"Don't tell me you're tempted."

Skydive gestured at the Autobot symbol he'd started wearing not that long ago. "I know my own place, in more ways than one. I'm just saying that their choice is not necessarily a foolish one."

"And how many of your current students have made that same choice?" The assistant pointed his chin at the empty desks.

"That's not my place to ask unless any of them volunteer it. Which they haven't."

"So, it's your place to teach them strategy, but not how they should use it?"

"Exactly. Would you have me live my students' lives for them? Do all the thinking for them?"

"Quite frankly, yes. We're trapped in a war that shows every sign of lasting a lot longer than we thought it would, and being a lot more destructive. If we don't do the thinking for these students, the Decepticons will be all too happy to instead."

Rather than the reproval Skydive would have expected from this point, the assistant's voice seemed to hold a note of... fear, instead. And worry. It made him feel an odd measure of pity for his visitor. Perhaps the assistants were real people after all.

"Unfortunately, I think you may be right." He deactivated the yearbook and placed it back in the drawer. No point in brooding over the past; there was plenty of present and future to brood about instead. "Shall we get going? Let me close up."

"Indeed." The assistant turned and headed out the door. Skydive spent a few moments gathering the testing datapads into his storage compartments, then started to head out himself. He paused in the doorway long enough to stare at the empty desks.

How many of these desks will be permanently empty one day? And for what reasons? he wondered. He shook his head sadly, then thumbed the light switch and headed out. Only time would tell...

[DCAyling]

That is a great piece of fan-fic, Jeysie - I really enjoyed it! It was only a day or so ago that I was touting Skydive as a possible late-entry into the Geekbots project to Pietrestan, and here he is starring in his own piece!

It's really nice to see the individual Aerialbots getting a chance to shine
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See some of my Transformers fan-art offerings: http://davimusprime.deviantart.com/

[Jeysie]

[skids]

Very nice Jeysie nice to see some different characters get some love

I was just thinking how the Seekers and Aerialbots pair off

Skydive and Starscream Ace fliers one with Null ray other with Nega gun

Ramjet and Air Raid 2 flyers who charge in headlong

Thrust and Slingshot VTOL braggarts

Skywarp and Fireflight Accident prone

Silverbolt and Dirge fear prone

[Soundwave]

AWESOME! Simply Awesome. I am taking pointers from you.
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Everything I post is ok to print, use, copy, use for inspiration, promote world peace, change lives, etc...and so on and so on.

Rumble Eject! Operation, collateral damage.

[Jeysie]

Skids: I never thought of it that way before, but it fits really well... I'll have to find some way to pass that along to my fellow Aerialbot-loving friend on DA.

Soundwave: Heh! Well, thanks! I didn't realize I *had* any pointers to give...

[Urzu Seven]

Wow, that's really good.

But I must admit, I find it a little bizarre of a read, considering that the Skydive I usually think of, when offered the notion that Megatron wouldn't know who they are because "this is millions of years ago, we haven't even been built yet" could only reply with a "Huh?"

It comes back to that thing about age again. No matter the continuity, there are certain characters I have a hard time thinking of being older than certain others, and I guess Skydive is one of them.
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Since the Godzilla forums have gotten me a lot more talkative, consider me 'Okay To Print'.

Profile image by Kris Smith.

[Jeysie]

[Urzu Seven]

[pietrestan]

hey jeysie, i rather liked this one. would've made a good anniversary mosaic as well. reads as pretty timely too, when war-time suspicions abound. i also like that, realistically, it's not so cut and dried either, that even the "metallic manifestations of pure elemental bureaucracy" are granted some "humanity" and treated with some sympathy by the end. nice take on skydive.
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now with more giant robots:
http://pietrestan.deviantart.com

[Jeysie]

[Jeysie]

Dang it, I really need to find the time to sit and think about my non-writing-contest fanfic ideas...

In the meantime, it occured to me to maybe post my little goofy photo one-shots I've been making here for the sake of those people who don't live on DeviantArt.

[Jeysie]

Hey, I has some new stuff after roughly ages.

This was supposed to be an entry for the April writing contest with Arcee as the prompt, that focuses on "Shattered Glass" Arcee (and takes place during Reunification: Part 2) .

Which totally never happened in time. Just as well, I suppose, as the story ended up taking a different turn than I had planned, so it might not have worked all that well for that purpose anyway.

**********

Pawns of the Gestalt

Thundercracker set the squad tracker to echo in his audios, the better to distract from the silence he moved through. It was unnerving even for the quiet warrior, his footsteps lost in the hollow wind and layers of debris, the bright rainbow hues of his armor equally lost in the dim haze. He felt like his choice to land for a stealthy final approach had been an almost needless tactic; even Whisper's boisterousness scarcely would have made a dent here.

Which made Thundercracker wonder even more why Dirge would come here, where there was naught but the ruined protoform hospital and other disused buildings to break up the desolation. Had Breakdown discovered something while investigating the signal they'd picked up here? Signs of an impending Autobot attack, perhaps? But surely Dirge would have told him if that were the case, instead of sneaking out and leaving his wingmate to track him down upon discovering he was gone.

Thundercracker shook his head as he surveyed the buildings he was approaching. He would just be glad to find Dirge. His wingmate's jokes and infectious laughter would be welcome as just the thing to make this place feel less dead.

In fact, the mere thought cheered him so much that he swore he could almost hear that laughter now. Yes... yes, it was there, rising over the wind. That laughter that was steady, and strong, and... high-pitched?

Almost hysterical?

Full of an unnatural glee, like that of a glitched protoform ripping the feathers off petropigeons?

Eeeeeeeeeeeeheheheheheheh...

No. No, no, that wasn't the right laughter at all...

He whirled around just in time for the arrow to fly through thin air instead of his wing, the whistle of its passing lost in the wind. He could see the arrow's owner then, her head lolling, limbs at strange angles, like a marionette held too close to the ground. But the way her optics looked through his, and her bow pointed at him steadily, showed her strings were under tight control. And that sound. That sound.

Eeeeeeeeeheheheheh...

He brought his arm guns up, a quick blast forming a bubble of silence around her. Yet even though the dampening field shimmered as usual, something was very wrong. Unlike the last time they'd met, she seemed untroubled by her voices being silenced, the vacuous grin never leaving her face. And her mouth was moving; no longer laughing, but forming soundless words. Words he could read on her lips—

"Yes, Master..."

He eventually recovered from his surprise, and primed and aimed his normal guns. But all just a moment too late, as her rapid-fire crossbow—which he swore wasn't what she'd had in their last meeting—sent a volley of arrows towards him. And when Thundercracker finally found a way to disturb the unnatural silence, with a nice thud as his body hit the ground, well. That was also just a moment too late.

Arcee moved forward and knelt by the body, her grin dreamy and distant as she admired her handiwork. She swirled her finger in the growing pools of yellow-green energon, painting lazily for long moments before finally speaking up. "So pretty. Always so pretty like this." She had no care that her words no longer reached her audios, as she knew that her new voice could hear, even from so very far away, and would never leave her. "Can I go make his friend pretty, too?"

"NO. HE IS NEEDED AS MY KEEPER'S CHARGE, JUST AS YOU ARE MY CHARGE."

"Ohhhh..." Her grin faded into an exaggerated pout. "But that's not fair...!"

"THERE WILL BE OTHERS FOR YOU."

She kept pouting, hands still smearing strange symbols onto the clashing armor. She babbled to herself soundlessly for several more long moments afterwards, before her master finally spoke up again.

"LEAVE THIS ONE TO MY MUTANTS NOW. RETURN TO MY CHAMBER."

"...yes, Master." She stood reluctantly and turned and walked away, hoping her new master would have another fight for her soon, and more shiny weapons. Pity, then, that she just barely missed seeing four otherworldly red and blue Cybertronians that could have given her a fight fleeing from the abandoned buildings behind her, the bubble of silence further masking their escape.

But the Vector Sigma Gestalt, well. It saw them, and her, and her convenient distraction, and through her master across the multiversal distance. It saw everything.

"OMEGA TERMINUS STEP OF RECALL PROGRAM: COMPLETE. NEXT STEP IN REUNIFICATION PROCESS: COMPUTRON. STARTING SEQUENCE PROGRESSION COUNTDOWN... MARK."

[Novastorm]

Do you have a title for this?

EDIT: I found the title on DA and posted the story in the Arcee writing comp. However your title does not show here.
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I dont know you and yet I feel a kinship...kinship.

[Jeysie]