Hunter and Hunted chapter 1

Title: Hunter and Hunted Chapter 1

Pairings: Lockdown and Devcon G1/TFA Crossover

Verse: AU but meant to take place in Animated

Rating: Pg-13 for this chapter

Warnings: Violence, mech cursing

Summery: Lockdown captures the great bounty hunter Devcon, but who has really captured whom?

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, I mean, that should be obvious because if I did the episodes would be A LOT different!

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

In the distant reaches of space, there was nothing but some asteroids drifting aimlessly in the inky blackness. In the face of the never-ending abyss, any sane creature would lose its mind. This was why only the unsound of mind could spend any amount of time out in the void. What was even worse than the crushing, starless wasteland was the harsh fact that there was no life. Nothing could live this far off the maps. Not even the smallest parasitic ameba could survive in absolute zero without the light of a single star. Out here was cold. Out here was death. Out here was absolute isolation.

And it was just what Lockdown liked.

This was the perfect place for the bounty hunter to do just about anything. He could lick his wounds and recover undisturbed if a hunt should go wrong, or lay low if a situation required it. On the other hand, he could just sit in his ship, The Death's Head, and listen to the endless streams of radio waves, listening for orns on end for news or new targets. This endless stretch to nothing was the idle setting for the overly paranoid bounty hunter. Nothing could come close without him knowing about it, and nothing could escape him once here.

Right now though, a smile tugged at his lips components as he sat motionless in the pitch black. The only thing on the radio waves now was frantic Autobot chatter. One ignorant fool after another screamed over the others to be heard. Lockdown had to admit even he was surprised at the ferocity and coordination of the Decepticon uprising. The only way the snarling, distrustful horde of Decepticon soldiers would work together is if someone had kicked their afts into shape. Rumor was; Megatron was still online after all these millennia, not that Lockdown cared enough to confirm the whispers. He'd seen the tyrant with his own optics and he could say with confidence that Megatron was the only bot in this universe that could force the level of cooperation needed for a mass attack out of the Cons. With Megatron back on the throne the Autobots where royally fragged. This was just what they all deserved. Not that Lockdown was a bot that reveled in mass murder and war. He didn't like the roar of heavy cannons or the sound of explosions. He had no appetite for destruction. There was only one thing he had in common with the brutes that called themselves Decepticons; he loved the scent of blood just as much as they did. Nevertheless, he wanted it quiet when he sniffed the air and darkness to slip through unnoticed as he followed the scent of a fresh wound. Let Megatron and Ultra Magnus deal with armies, he just wanted one bot to set his sights on and hunt down.

Through the chatter still gnawing endlessly away at his audios, the bounty hunter heard something else. It was the beeping of the private communication transmission. The button on the computer console blinked on and off in a steady rhythm. He didn't answer it right way, he wasn't sure he really wanted too just yet. Besides, there was no reason for him to rush. If whoever was on the other end of the line really wanted his services, they'd wait.
Slowly his trophy room was bathed in dark red light as he powered up his optics. Slowly he looked over the mementos of past hunts. A real smile haunted his mouth as the familiar rush of ecstasy tingled through his circuits. He wanted to feel the thrill of the hunt again, and rip his reward out of a fresh new chassis.

The shinning sliver hook that made up his right hand descended on the lit button. The large viewing screen bust to life and a face took shape. It was dark grey with a deep purple helm that jutted up like a pair of horns. The red optics where a deep crimson color and seemed to look right through Lockdown, his ship and everything else to stare at some point unknown.

"Do I know you?" Lockdown growled his voice dangerously low.

The royal purple bot on the screen didn't so much as twitch at the warning.

"We have a job for you."

Lockdown's engine growled menacingly as his place face plates twisted into an ugly frown.

"Not big on formalities are ya?" Lockdown snarled. "Can't a bot get a simple "hi there."

"Formalities are meaningless." The purple bot deadpanned unfazed. "Do you want the job or not. There are plenty of other bounty hunters in the universe."

"Whoever told you I'd take a job from a complete stranger sold you a load of slag." Lockdown growled; hook hovering over the button to cut the line.

"Under normal circumstances your insolence would not be tolerated. However, General Strika has made in clear your services are required."

"Strika?" Lockdown growled suspiciously. "General of Destruction Strika?"

"Is there another Strika I should be made aware of?" The Decepticon growled.

Both mechs stared each other down, the bounty hunter's optics taking in details of the strange mech. Logging them away for future use, like weak points around the mech's neck to dig his hook into.

"Be honored she finds you worthy enough for me to contact."

"Aww," Lockdown sneered with a sarcastic roll of his optics, a dirty habit he'd picked up from that mud ball Earth. "How sweet of her to remember me."

The mech on the other end of the transmission showed no signs of life, not even a flux in his optical sensor brightness. The red lenses merely stared at him, or more accurately, through him.

"Will you take the job or won't you?"

"I have to hear details before I make up my mind." Lockdown said. "Especially when it's coming from somebot I don't trust."

"Some of our forces have encountered an irritant that warrants our attention. However, reinforcements are few and previously engaged. We want you to deal with this problem quickly. Should you succeed your payment will be substantial. Twice your normal rate. Fifty percent of which will be paid up front."

While the pay sounded great, Lockdown was no fool. Decepticons paid top credit and mods because the jobs they wanted done where dirty and dangerous. And the higher up on the Decepticon food chain the contract came from the more lethal the job. Often many of them meant certain death.

"And if I decided to do this… favor for you, what would be the problem that needs to be taken care of?"

"There's and Autobot picking off strategically placed troops in this sector,"

A star map with the specified quadrant blipped in the bottom corner of the screen as the mech continued in the same monotone.

"Intelligence has little insight, due to the lack of surviving witnesses. The only useful Intel that was salvaged was the designation: Devcon. Other than that we…"

"Stop right there." Lockdown snapped, pointing his hook at the screen. "Devcon's a bounty hunter, and a damn good one. He won't go down easy, and even if he does your looking at a lotta' collateral damage. He ain't worth it. I suggest you cut your losses and move on."

"We'll triple your fee."

Lockdown's optics narrowed.

"That's an insult. You're asking me to bring down a bot that can take out a squad of your Decepticons single handedly. I wouldn't even roll off the berth for triple. Twenty million or you can go personally to deal with him."

That finally got a reaction. The purple mech's optics narrowed and he glowed threateningly.

"You overestimate my patients with you bounty hunter."

"And you underestimate the bot you're looking for. Devcon's one of the best. He's killed everything he went after and everyone that went after him. He's big game and it's gonna cost you big."

"Will you take the job or won't you? I don't have all cycle."

"You agree to twenty million?"

"We agree to your terms." The bot said darkly, no doubt wanting to rip Lockdown limb from limb.

"Knew you would." Lockdown smiled coyly. "Now, do you want him alive? Or do you want proof of death?"

"I don't care if you tie him up and make him your personal pleasures drone." Came the snarling response. "Just see to it that he no longer disturbs us or our operations or I'll personally take your head for a trophy."

Then the transmission cut out, leaving Lockdown once again alone in the dark. After a moment of silence, a chuckle escaped him. Big danger for a big payday. This was definitely his kind of job. Lockdown left the lights off as he began his research.

Hunting bounty hunters was tricky business for quite a few reasons. One of which was it was more or less an unwritten rule that one didn't hunt their peers. Despite the universes' misconception, most bounty hunters got along. Off the clock anyways. Hunters where often assets to each other. Each had their own web of connections and informants that where useful. More often than not hunters were pleased to do favors and pull strings to have somebot in their debt. Lockdown knew how advantageous it was having that kind of connection in your pocket. So killing another bounty hunter was often far more trouble than the job was worth and tended to come back around and bite one in the aft.

But there was no greater thrill then hunting down one of the most dangerous beings in the universe. Bounty Hunters where fast, cunning and downright ruthless. Not to mention they had some of the best personal modifications. Devcon was bound to have some interesting trophies for the taking.
His left hand typed away at the controls as his hook flipped the power on. The lights flickered on inside his trophy room as Lockdown filtered through the data streaming across the computer. He found exactly want he needed with only minor difficultly and rose. The lights of The Death's Head flickered on and then off as Lockdown moved through his ship to the cockpit. If he was going to be successful, he needed as much prep time as possible and make calls to his own informants. He took a seat at the controls and stared out at the vest emptiness beyond the viewing screen. An idea was beginning to form on the fringes of his processor and after a moment of thinking, and some rather impressive hacking skills, he found the encrypted line he needed and patched himself through. It only took a click or two for a rather ugly looking Decepticon to answer.

"Who the pit are you?" The menacingly ignorant mech slurred.

"You got an officer over there?" Lockdown snapped.

The ugly bot was shoved out of the way and a much more agreeable looking officer took its place. The new mech's handsome grey face as pulled back into an unsightly snarl.

"You have an astrosecond to explain yourself or I'm going to rip your spark out of your…"

"Relax," The black tattoos stretched eerily as the pale face grinned. "I'm your Primus granted miracle."

Lockdown had never been much of an actor, but he could be just convening enough to get what he needed done. Dealing with Decepticons was rather easy once you had a little practice. You showed no weakness, you exploited whatever weakness you could find and if you could get them angry enough that they overrode rational thinking… you had an army at your disposal. You just had to push the right buttons at the right time.

"General Strika hired me. Apparently, you have yourself a bounty hunter problem."

"I don't NEED any help!" The officer growled. "I have the situation under control!"

This was going to be too easy Lockdown grinned to himself. This bot didn't even try to hide his oh so easily exploited pride.

"Yeah, sure you do." Lockdown snorted condescendingly.

"You listen to me you uncultured, ill-bread slag…," the officer snarled."I've worked my aft off to get where I am and no primus damn bounty hunter is going to take my rightfully earned glory! Over my cold, off lined chassis!"

That can be arranged. Lockdown thought as his optics narrowed. While he would love to make an unprofessional, personal kill, he still had a use for this aft.

"Look, I ain't interested in glory friend. Credits and mods are the only things I'm after, and Stirka already took care of that for ya. I'm just here to take out the trash. As far as I'm concerned, after I get paid, you're the one that took care of this mess."

Lockdown eased back in his chair as a cold smile split his face.

"So let me put it this way, I'm coming down there. If we can play nice together things are going to go a lot smoother. But if we can't come to an understanding you're going to be up to your audios in bodies."

The officer regarded him suspiciously before he was forced to give in.

"What kind of… understanding… do you have in mind?"

Lockdown's optics glittered dangerously.

"Oh, I already have an idea that will work quite nicely."