Nova Black 11/?

[stainless]

The Ascension of Nova Black

Part 11 of 17

Verse: G1 AU (all characters are OCs.)
Wordcount: 3,475+
Rating: M for violence, dark themes, etc.
Warnings: Not much, really, this time around I don't think. Some simulation-fighting and a bit of residual post-upgrade ouchies, but nothing especially oogy.
Summary: Nova tests out her new weaponry and her new set of wings. And has way too much fun doing it. Whee.

Thanks muchly to meaisin_caoin for betaing.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17
 

Static flickered across Nova Black's field of vision. She sat up, struggling to focus her optics. Something green twitched in front of her, chittering excitedly.

"How do you feel now?" whispered a voice behind the green thing waving at her. It sounded more curious than concerned.

She sat up. How did she feel? Off-balance, for one. And for another, she ached. Terribly, now that she was thinking about it. Especially her wings. The joints burned, and the surfaces of the wings throbbed almost as painfully.

Her vision flickered. The small thing -- she recognized it now as the drone Leech had introduced as the team's medic -- held out a cube of energon, chirping faster now.

"All right, all right, I hear you," she muttered, grabbing for the fuel. Vile stuff, from the look of it. It glowed a sickly pale pink, barely illuminated, and it sloshed thickly within the cube that held it.

She didn't need to see the Decepticon symbol or the batch number embossed on the side of the cube to know what it was. Standard ration. She frowned. It had been long stellar cycles since she'd been used to that.

She raised it to her lips anyway, fighting not to wince as she drank as much of it as she could. Her tanks were nearly empty, and now that she remembered why, she could hardly disagree with the medic's logic. Frowning, she drank the rest down, hoping it would settle better in her tanks than she expected.

The medic leaned even closer, tilting its head from side to side as it examined her. It stared first into her face, then at the guns mounted on her arms, then down at her new chestplate, and finally at her wings, chirring as it scanned their surface and analyzed its readings.

She glowered back at it until it finally nodded once and crept off to hide behind Leech, still clicking softly to itself.

"He asked you how you're feeling, Blackie," rumbled another voice, as a broad shape lumbered over to her and transformed. "You should answer him."

"Colossus?" Her wings twitched as she laughed. Then she froze, cringing at the pain the movement sent through them.

She raised her head, quickly scanning to see if Bane was here. The Subcommander, however, had gone, apparently leaving her recovery to her teammates.

Turning back to the big grounder, she couldn't say she minded.

"You're talking to me again already? Careful there, old friend. Someone might think you're going soft."

He growled once and fell silent.

Shrugging -- gingerly -- she turned back to Leech. The white Decepticon watched her intently, his own wings clicking once as he studied her.

"How do I feel? Like hell. What exactly were you expecting?"

"You are not appreciably damaged," the ruined voice answered. "You are in pain, yes, and that must be adjusted for. And you could probably use more fuel. Aside from that, however, you probably function better now than you ever have."

Nova snorted, the air noisily escaping her vents. Thanks for that, conehead. Couldn't have figured that one out on my own.

Still, he was right. Even now, she could feel the pain beginning to fade as her systems recalibrated themselves.

She set down the empty cube of energon and rose to her feet, fighting down a wave of vertigo as her stabilizers struggled to reset.

She flicked her wings experimentally and winced. The joints itched, even that small movement burning, and the brands hurt almost as badly. Still, that was already bearable. Her sensor net, apparently, was even now catching up to the things that Leech and her own system readouts were telling her.

She walked over to a small mirror near the cot where she'd been lying. For a long moment she shuttered her optics, cycling air slowly through her vents.

Then she opened them.

The helm she saw gleamed, its angles impossibly sharp and clean. Her faceplates were far less impressive. They hadn't been replaced or even altered. The machines upgrading her had polished them, but the metal remained pitted with tiny scratches, abrasions, and chips.

And she still had scars around her optic sockets, left there when she'd torn out the red optics she'd been built with and replaced them with dull yellow spares.

Bane had probably neglected to replace her faceplates on purpose. The scars would remind anyone who knew her history that she'd deserted once, whatever color her optics were now.

Nova's lip curled with a slight creak as she looked, but she knew that an upgrade like this was rare. It was already impressive that Bane would give it to her at all. She could live with his using her faceplates to make a point.

And her new optics were the important things. They were red, redder than the ones she'd been built with ever had been. Bright and undimmed, blazing with newness. She grinned.

Besides, the rest of her frame already looked half like someone else. It would be even worse wake up with shiny faceplates that didn't look like they were hers.

She twitched her new wings. They were broader than her old set, yet lighter. That thought sent a thrill through her circuitry: she was made of something new now, something better, something stronger.

The deep gray stripes adorning them had once been nearly invisible against black wings soiled with dirt, oil, and Primus knew what else. Now they were plain to see, boldly following the contours of her wings, the yellow pinstripe along their top edge gleaming against the dark paint.

And in the center of her wings were the new brands, shimmering as she twitched them again. That luster made them different from the painted-on Decepticon symbols all of the others bore. They'd had theirs from the time of their construction, and somewhere in the salvage pile lay Nova's old wings, bearing similar markings.

She scowled, thinking of it. Anyone who saw the telltale shimmer as she moved would take her for a convert, perhaps even for the sort of miserable, mewling machine who traded freedom for security.

Then again, her brands meant that she had made a vow. She had been built for this life, left it, and chosen it again. Her brands were a testament to that choice, whatever ignorant fools might think of them.

And no one who'd seen her remaking, not even Bane himself, could deny that she had earned them.

She raised an arm, grinning at the new laser mounted on it. It wasn't much larger than her old ones, but as she moved she could feel it hum to life, impatient to be tested and used.

It was a good feeling, energy crackling through her systems. She tightened her fists, her wings quivering, the pain shooting through them making her feel suddenly alive.

"I'm heading to the practice range," she smirked over her shoulder. Her legs still felt stiff, but she would need to save her wing strength if she wanted to try them out. "You can head over there and watch me or not."

###

She felt the touch on her shoulder and turned, clicking a wing in annoyance despite the pain that lanced through it as it moved.

"What is it?" she snarled, turning to see Leech's pale face regarding her nervously. The medic, scurrying along at his heels, clicked his appendages at her.

She snorted, blowing air noisily out of her vents. "If that repair bot thinks I need something, it can wait. I've got something to do."

Leech leaned close, the cracked voice low in her audio receptors. "For the pain," he said as the medic waved toward her again.

She turned her head, looking for the others. If they could hear what Leech was saying, the conehead would have hell to pay. Fortunately for both of them, the other members of her team had apparently decided to leave her alone, if they weren't just lagging behind.

"I'm fine," she hissed. "You said yourself that I'm not damaged."

The ruined face configured itself into a scowl, gears creaking. "Half of your systems have been replaced. That is a shock, regardless of anything else. Besides, it's not what you're doing now that matters. Bane is aiming to start a full-blown battle in the near future. You don't need burning in your wings."

"Fine," Nova spat, too eager to get going to argue.

The medic stared up at her, its bright array of red optics glinting. Then it drove a thin appendage into the side of her chest. The seeker clamped her mouth shut tight, determined to show no reaction just in case the others happened to be nearby.

Where the stuff it had injected into her knee earlier had burned, this felt cool, a chilling numbness spreading through her circuitry. She cursed, shoving the small green medic away. She'd agreed to take something to dull the pain, not to feel nothing at all.

Frantic to feel anything, she clicked her wings several times in rapid succession, hoping it would hurt. The pain felt dull now, dull and distant, the crackling burn countering the worst of the cold spreading through her.

Without a word, she turned, shoving Leech aside, the medic shrilling in dismay behind her.

###

When she got there, the others had already gathered around, waiting for her to arrive.

She did not spare a look for them. Instead, she spared a moment to flex her joints, studying the feeling of the lighter new plating. Her weapons systems vibrated with anticipation, their heat warming her numbed circuits.

She shuttered her optics for a moment and then opened them again.

"Simulation ten, level nine."

"Level nine?" Winder squealed, his thin limbs flailing. "I understand that you're upgraded, Blackie, but level nine? Are you insane?"

"Maybe I am," she snarled back, not looking at him. Now that she had her modifications, she had no reason to play nicely with him. "Mute it or I tear your head off and then run the sim."

"But it --"

"-- takes you forever to get the damn thing back on. Yeah." She smirked. "Think I don't know you any more?"

He squawked something in reply. She ignored it.

"Besides, we've got a medic right over there." She frowned, thinking of the last injection it had given her. "Or so Leech says, anyway. If his experiments over the last few solar cycles haven't made him as glitched as you."

She caught a silvery shimmer in the corner of her optic. Either Winder was slithering away, or his appendages were twisting around themselves in irritation. She didn’t much care which one.

"Begin," she told the computer.

###

The simulation always started easy. The holograms appeared, usually standing on tall hills, since most of them represented grounders. The one running the simulation shot them. Simple, at first.

Sometimes you hid if you had to -- the simulation provided tall spires of metal, hills, and even smaller obstacles like crates to take cover behind -- but in the very beginning, it wasn't always necessary.

Fun, too, Nova reflected, warmth thrilling through her circuitry as her weapons powered up. Her newly installed optics enabled her to see even the holograms that lurked far away, and her targeting computer fed her data more rapidly than it ever had.

Grinning, she raised her arms, aiming her lasers at one of the most faraway targets. She let loose a blast, the bright purple energy lancing toward the illusory enemy.

It felt so good that she almost cried out. The burst she'd just loosed would've taken intense effort before her upgrade. Now, it burst from her effortlessly, lancing in a burst of purple light toward the hologram, which winked out with a flare of bright orange.

She stared for longer than she should have, elation thrilling through her systems.

Then she realized her mistake, as the closer holograms sent a barrage of orange light her way.

Damn it, she thought, taking cover behind one of the spires. So much for trying to show off.

One of the holograms ran after her, light flaring as it fired, hitting the spire she hid behind. She waited, then peeked her head and arm out and fired.

Unlike the other, this hologram didn't wink out right away. It almost managed to fire back at her before she ducked again, emerging to finish it off with another, harder blast.

She could see the light of the other holograms as they converged on her position. She'd have to get out of here.

She could run, she realized, but why run but she could take to the sky? Willing herself to ignore both the stinging and the numbness in her wings vying for her attention, she took off, swooping down to strafe at the knot of holograms shooting up at her. Two winked out quickly, flaring bright purple as her fire hit them. The others fell back, taking cover behind spires or running up their hills to chase her.

Despite the lingering soreness in her wings, flying felt exhilarating. She flipped and spun, wheeling over the hills and between the spires, barely remembering the holographic enemies below. Nothing they could do could touch her, she thought, exultant, swooping down over them again and raining purple fire over their flickering forms.

Some winked out immediately, disappearing as soon as her laser fire hit them. The bigger ones took more, even from her upgraded weaponry. That felt good: to bear down on them, to envelop them in the blazing light from her weaponry, watching them flail for a long moment, just as a real enemy would, and then flicker out.

Unfortunately for Nova, they also had the real enemy's tendency to congregate, the orange imitation of real Autobots' laser fire lancing up at her from all directions.

Cursing, she transformed. Pain lanced through her wings again, burning so intensely she lost her concentration and found herself swerving wildly, still half-transformed, to avoid the latest barrage of orange light.

Ugly little bastard, she thought, snarling. That had come too close for comfort. If it had hit, the first time she'd run a simulation since an upgrade hardly any Decepticon ever got, she never would have lived it down.

Growling in discomfort, she forced her protesting frame to finish the transformation. Pain was nothing. Pain fueled the lust for battle, for triumph, for annihilation of the enemy who'd brought it on you.

Besides, transforming the first time after some trauma was always more difficult than usual. Once she got it over with, she'd be fine. Or so she hoped.

And this form was more aerodynamic than her other one. Which made her faster, more agile, more graceful in the air.

And better able to rain doom on the little orange slivers of programming that had nearly made her look like a fool in front of her old team.

With a shriek, she whirled between two spires. She'd tried this move once before, swooping through a narrow gap between buildings back when the others had chased her off. That stunt had scraped a wing, a wing that had been smaller before her upgrade.

This time, though, she was sleeker and faster. She ignored the nervous electricity crackling through her circuitry and dove into the thin space, willing herself to remain steady as orange light burst against the spires behind her.

She turned, sharply, and was waiting when they emerged, loosing another volley of purple fire as they emerged. Caught, one after the other flared a defiant copper and then disappeared.

Was that all of them? She cycled a heavy pant through her intakes, allowing herself a moment's breather, then accelerated again, dancing between spires, rising high into the air and then swooping down again, half to ferret out any more hidden holographic enemies and half because she could.

Should have done this stellar cycles ago, she thought, elation racing like current through her circuits.

Then she saw it. Apparently, yes, there was one more simulated enemy to shoot down.

And this one had wings.

She'd seen holograms like it before. There were, after all, some fliers in the Autobots' ranks, and it was never a bad idea to be prepared for them.

Still, most were ungainly, the result of awkward copying of Decepticon technology and specs. They flew about as well as the force-field technology Leech had reverse-engineered worked for him. Which meant this hologram should be slow, ungainly, and easily bested. Nova banked hard, hoping to lose it behind one of the spires.

It came on, its holographic body flaring with light.

Is that thing... patterned on one of us?

Slag.

Upgrade or no, it had been forever since she'd sparred with another Seeker. She hadn't fought a flier since the ill-fated brawl with Cinder that had gotten her into all this in the first place. And that had happened stellar cycles ago.

And getting too cocky about leading this thing on a nice little chase meant it was on her tail now.

Damnit, Blackie, quit showing off. Didn't work before, isn't working now.

She twisted to one side just in time to avoid an orange blast behind her. Weaving between a few of the spires bought her a few moments to think, but not much else. She could see the orange of its fire lighting her vision from behind. Too close for comfort, again.

And again, and again, and again...

She needed to find some way to lose it, or at least to turn and face it.

Taken with a sudden idea, she dove sharply, trusting in her new parts to let her pull up when she'd need to. If that thing -- hologram of a mockery of a real flier, she hissed, fuming at the thought of a Seeker-style craft with Autobot markings, even if it was only a simulation -- was patterned on what she'd been before, it might not be able to pull out of the dive.

She didn't have denta to grit, not in this form anyway, but she stared down at the ground, rising too fast to meet her, counting, waiting, fighting the warnings flashing through her systems, shrieking through her processor to pull up, pull up, now --

It was still there, she knew. And fancier build that she might be, she didn't know, couldn't be sure, not with the simulation set this high, not with the numbing agent that damned green half-drone had injected still not doing enough to kill this pain, real pain, and that ground rising up to meet her wasn't a simulation, not like the rest of this, and how close was she, she didn't know, couldn't tell, didn't have time now to calculate it, would have to --

-- pull up, which she did, electricity crackling through her circuits again as she barely missed the ground and found herself soaring, free, a bright flash of orange below her where the hologram had collided with the ground.

She transformed again. Even if that hologram was going to attack again, that collision would buy her time. This time, she felt less pain as her components shifted into their other configuration. Like she'd thought, it was easier now.

She swooped down, still seeing the orange outline of the holographic enemy below her. Well, if it wasn't finished with her yet, she wasn't finished with it either.

With a wild yell of satisfaction and triumph, she fired, all of the energy the simulation had stored in her weapons systems bursting free at once, the light from her lasers almost blinding her.

With a flare of light, the final enemy burst, almost as if it really were exploding.

Nova waited a moment for her optics to reset and landed, grinning, staring at the small crater her lasers had blown into the floor.

She raised her head to see the others watching her, their red optics bright as they stared. Leech nodded quietly, his wings twitching, clearly impressed. The medic stood next to him, its head under one of his pale hands, trilling in apparent excitement.

Winder squirmed, his high whine of dismay stinging in her audio receptors. "Did you have to damage the floor?" he shrilled as she walked by him.

She swung a punch at his face, growling.

Taking the hint, he slithered out of the way, still hissing some complaint.

Colossus was still not looking at her. His optics fixed instead on the hole in the floor, his expression unreadable.

"Hey, big guy," she chuckled, her wings twitching, finally free of pain. "Care for a re-match?"

He raised his head to return her stare. "Not just now, Blackie." A smile spread across the broad, dark faceplates. "Maybe later. After we've kicked the skidplates of those rebels you keep yelling about."

He chuckled, looking her over. "Gotta have priorities, ya know."

Comments

[snowdropexplodes.myopenid.com]

"Then again, her brands meant that she had made a vow. She had been built for this life, left it, and chosen it again. Her brands were a testament to that choice, whatever ignorant fools might think of them."

Powerful meaning, that. This story just gets more and more impressive!

[stainless]

Thank you!

[eerian_sadow]

oh, i love it. she's really back in her element now, and you can feel it. the simulation had just the right amount of exhilaration to make it interesting, but not so detailed that my ADD went haywire trying to keep track of all the minutae. (did i spell that write? it looks wrong, but i can never really be sure.)

definitely enjoyed this chapter, hon.

[stainless]

It's "minutiae," and thank you. XD

And yes, she is in her element now. She really, really, really wanted to go home.

[eerian_sadow]

gah, i was so close. thank you.

[meaisin-caoin.livejournal.com]

Awesome chapter-- aft-kicking Seeker kicking aft = total win. Nice to see her back home again :)

[lost_carcosa]

That was wonderful. So many great little touches, like Nova referring to herself as 'Blackie', the medic hiding its face behind its hand (so freakin' adorable!), the description of the simulated Autobot flier... so lovely to read, and so very satisfying too

And of course I love that Nova enjoys the results of her upgrade.

*applauds*

[stainless]

Thank you!