literature

Band of Brothers : Part 1 [Com]

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           “Where are you going to want these, Magnus?”

           “Over there, Blackout, thank you,” Ultra Magnus murmured, pointing a thick digit off to the side despite his optics remaining locked on the datapad in front of his faceplate.

           Staring blankly at the buff shouldered blue and red mech a few moments longer, Blackout shrugged and walked calmly in the indicated direction. The load of equipment in his servos probably the nearly identical the Autobot’s former SIC himself but he carried it like it was nothing more than a kitten in his digits.

           “Hey Ultra Snooze over there, you just going to sit around all day with your faceplate on that datapad, or are you going to actually help us?” groaned an irritated onyx and violet Grounder.

           With a twitch of annoyance from his optic ridge, Magnus turned his helm up from his readings to glare at Barricade. Unsurprisingly, the small mech was sprawled out on two of the seats that were supposed to be arranged on the east side of the room around the tables. His mouth was hanging open like a child ready to catch flying Earth insects and his dark plum optics were dull and the color washed and dim with boredom.

           “I’m making sure that everything that needs to be done by tonight is, Barricade,” the intimidating mech snarled. “You could help out and go back to arranging the tables.”

           “So let me get this straight: We Cons do all the hard manual work, and you get to stand there and look at… names. On a datapad.”

           “It’s a guest list,” Blackout called from off to the side.

           Irked with the interruption, Ultra Magnus narrowed his optics a millimeter. Hardly recognizable, especially with the distance between himself and Blackout.

           “It’s a guest list,” Magnus finally repeated, trying to hide the grated vexation from his tone as he spoke to Barricade. “And yes, these are all very important individuals of society. I need to make sure that all are accounted for, check RSVPs, so forth.”

            “As for your predicament in the ‘Cons’ having all the difficult duties: might I remind you, Barricade, that the war has been over for six-hundred years now, hence the party? We should be treating each other as allies now, we are no longer enemies.”

           “And thirdly-“

           “Thirdly, this is a very boring conversation,” Cade snorted.

           “Thirdly,” Magnus stressed, his voice rumbling not from the depth of his voice but with chagrin, “You were invited, and the femmes volunteered your services, which I shall remind you that you agreed to aid with putting together the hall while the femmes ran clearance on individuals as they came and made sure the energon stocks would be ready for this evening.”

           A rumble of laughter, dark and ominous as thunder, quietly emitted from Blackout as he approached once more. The vicious light of red from his optics still brought forth a suspicious feeling to Magnus, even after all these years as the intimidating mech crossed his arms and paused.

           “What he’s saying is that you should have probably helped the femmes with the easier work, Barricade,” Blackout grumbled, a smirk on his face.

           Hot air rushed forth in a ventish sigh from the imposing lone former Autobot in the room. He quickly smothered his faceplate with his massive servo and shook his helm as ‘Cade began to bark and nag furiously at Blackout. Honestly, if he didn’t know the two better it would almost be easy to imagine them as a married couple. One was always pestering the other, teasing them, egging them on but they seemed to thrive on their weird masochist friendship.

           Glancing through his digits, Ultra Magnus’s luminous cyan optics stared upon the pair as he spoke firmly, “If the two of you would kindly stop arguing, I would like to have the hall ready before this evening’s events.”

           “Blackout started it,” Barricade defended himself, glaring at the towering oversized mech.

           Not one to drop to such petty remarks, the former Decepticon Hound merely shrugged his spiky shoulders and shrugged. Whatever somewhat amused expression vanished from his face just as quickly as it had arrived while prodding at Cade’s vain attitude.

           “As host of the event this year,” Magnus proudly straightened his posture at this, “I want this to run as smoothly as possible. It’s an important anniversary date this year, and I’d rather not… Not have the situations we’ve had arise again from the past with the rogue Decepticons.”

           An uncomfortably silence drifted across the room. There were still some Decepticons that had not confirmed to the new society on Cybertron. Very few Autobots had not as well, but it was far more widely known that the violent faction never ceased. Pockets of these ‘rogue Decepticons’ still lived on and around Cybertron, and sought any reason to bring down their wrath upon the new system of their former home planet. They tried crippling the new society; destroying prominent memorials, executing war veterans, bringing havoc where they came.

           Not one event however, was more sought after than the tribute that came every decade. A time where the most well-known war veterans, generals, military leaders, scientists, medics; important people from an era so long ago now gathered to pay respects. Stories were exchanged, the occasional scuffle happened, energon and high-grade was drank and there was the all important service amidst it all where they paid dedication and homage to those in the war that had passed on through the past decade.

           Every decade when the event came up, new security measures were always added to protect all the former Bot and Con mechs and femmes that came. Most years the security measures did the trick and nothing bad came of it. Very few years, some that came to pay tribute and join in the peace that had since come over them were killed by the radicals. Even less were drawn by these new groups, and committed treason among the peace like brainwashed rats.

           Still, they held their tribute. They tried to move on, to move past. To heal and regain some sort of civilization. To act as ones should now: as brothers, as sisters, as family. The fights may have been different, but the fight for justice and equality was gone.

           And none were more prevalent nor odder than watching a band of Decepticons getting along with a former Autobot Second-in-Command and his mate.

           “So, what’s the plan for this year?” Barricade uncomfortably spoke up; sitting up in the chair he was in with an air of seriousness.

           “Well, we have all the technical stuff on a closed system, so we don’t need to work on technical failures. The building has been swept over a dozen times now for possible bombs or pre-planned explosives,” Ultra Magnus muttered, ticking things off on his digits as he spoke. “I have a security team working in the building under cover, but…”

           “You still don’t feel its safe enough?” Barricade offered.

           “One can never be too sure,” The former Autobot stated softly, lowering his helm.

           Passing a glance over the room, the small Decepticon gave a thoughtful hum. He promptly slid out of the seat he was on to his pedes, and began to pace the room.

           Fleeting confused looks to one another, Blackout and Ultra Magnus watched as the small mech studied the room. He paid particular attention to the high windows and the doors, glaring at them with his optics narrowed.

           “Roof top snipers?”

           “Precautionary.”

           Barricade gave a nod of approval to this.

           Shrugging his shoulders as he passed by the main door, ‘Cade offered a wary smile. He glanced over his shoulder as he pushed the door open to step out, waving a servo in the air as he remarked, “Just have Blackout stand outside before the event starts as a guard. No one will dare try anything knowing that big guy’s going to be here.”

           Magnus’s expression swiftly changed to that of unimpressed. He watched as the annoying mech departed the room, his jaw set and his backstrut a little stiff. Honestly, sometimes he wondered how Blackout dealt with that mech. He seemed flamboyant at times, a little full of himself, cocky as the Pit and snotty to boot.

           Then again, Magnus had seen Barricade at his best behavior, too. How could he judge that moronic mech so harshly when he’d seen him on highgrade dancing around a stripper pole? Or the times that idiot showed true, compassionate, loving nature? Or how protective he was not just of Venus, but how he showed he cared in general about others. About more than himself.

           And then there was Blackout.

           Being left alone in the room with him, even now, sometimes reminded Magnus of his ghosts. Battles lost and won. Friend was a strong word, too strong to use on Blackout in some ways. He was reliable, resourceful, intelligent (more so than Magnus ever gave him credit for). Brave and courageous, and not afraid to take a bullet for others. Ironically in some ways, Magnus saw a lot to relate to in Blackout.

           And then there were the things the he could never relate to. Like right now. Feeling as though he was unsafe; like there was a monster lurking in the room with him. Something not only dangerous, but untamed. Something that would not hold on to morals, or inner conflict or turmoil, or doubt that last shot to the helm; innocent or not.

           Maybe Barricade had a point…

           Turning his helm slightly to the oversized mech, Ultra Magnus’s expression slowly shifted to thoughtful as he examined the obsidian walking arsenal.

           “You’re not actually considering the offer, are you?” Blackout rumbled in his deep baritone.

           “Why not?” Ultra Magnus stated formally. “Sure you are part of the event, so you won’t be out there long, but Barricade does have a point. You’re the largest sole Transformer around that is not city-class that I’m aware of. You have a bit of a, well… reputation yourself.”

           Blackout grinned; his derma momentary flashing like a wolf about to scare rabbits from a den. “You want to use me, then, sir?”

           With a deadpanned and fearless appearance, the Autobot SIC nodded. “In a matter of speaking, I suppose so, yes. Would you be willing to stand guard? Just until all the guests are accounted for. I’m sure that would be plenty of time for anyone trailing those coming to spot you and realize that we are not only prepared, but harboring a very lethal force in our midst…”

           The former Hound seemed to debate this for a moment. His gaze held Ultra Magnus’s. Some mech seemed to grow past their demons after the war. Although Blackout was hinged; likely was throughout the entire war, there was something still unnerving and unsettling about the mech’s appearance.

           “Fine,” Blackout grunted. “I’ll do it.”

           Relief flashed across the scarlet and navy blue armored mech’s faceplate. He inclined his helm, a respectful bow to a comrade, an ally, a trustworthy companion.

           “I appreciate this, Blackout. I’m sure you’ll keep an IOU in your databanks…”

           “For standing around?” the charcoal mech snickered. “Hardly.”

           “You’re a good mech, Blackout,” Ultra Magnus stated, and then added on with a wistful smile, “For a former Decepticon.”

           “Don’t go telling everyone that,” Blackout stated with a gravely growl; the undertones of his voice more pronounced. “You’ll ruin that reputation you’re trying to use me for while going behind my back saying I’m like a fluffy cyber-cat.”

           “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Magnus stated solemnly, collapsing his datapad back into its carrying state and placing it at his hip as he stretched out an inviting servo. “Now shall we get back to work? It seems the other aid has run out on me, and I’d like to finish setting up and have the chairs organized before our early guests arrive.”

           Glancing to the doorway, Blackout’s expression shifted to a slight variation on uncertainty for a moment and then swapped to at ease. Likely realizing that they were not in fact being spied on by Barricade, he reached out and grasped Magnus’s servo with an unsurprisingly firm grip.

           “Fine then,” Blackout stated a smug grin on his faceplate. “Let’s get back to work. Think you can keep up, paper pusher?”

           Tightening his clasped servo against Blackout’s, Ultra Magnus offered a tight grin and responded gruffly, “We’ll see who’s the one slacking, Flyer.”

Commission for :icondeceptib0t:



Part 2: Forged By Choice : Part 2 [Com]
First: right here

After a quick confirmation through Mags, they okay'd me to write up one commission into multiple parts. Because of this, I've decided part 2 will actually be the Large fic (as commissioned) and this one will more or less be a Medium freebee/commission to build up to part 2
Also it gives me more opportunity to write about my children and adopted children and their relationships so why not.

'Cade's just being a grouch he's fine he's okay >:u

© Transformers - Hasbro
© RoyalBlackheart
Comments7
Khool-KhatZ's avatar
Tiff honestly how much money do I have to pay you because my GOSH

My son is nothing more than the perfect shit disturber that he is. He needs to quit being a grouch and actually say something nice to Magnus once in his miserable life. As always Blackout and Barricade are bickering like an old married couple.

Correction they are one.


And I want more of this Brot3 that it hurts me. I just want to cry tears of happiness when I read this.
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