1. Belief Module Part 1 by Artemis_Prime
***
Portland, Oregon
Earth
...Patience...
He was a scrawny street rat of no real memorable features, just another face in a crowd of humans...
...Timing...
Thin, though broad shouldered, the youth darted through the crowded sidewalks of Portland, his emerald green eyes studying the mundane suited stiffs. He had nothing in common with his prey; a boy barely an adult with a pair of tattered jeans and a black tee-shirt underneath a light forest cammie army jacket, his combat boots noiseless against the din of the mundane. Red-brown hair fell into his eyes; he pushed it back over his ear with a long, slender hand.
...There...
A man in an open trench coat headed toward him, his attention to his cell phone pressed against his ear. He had a smile on his face. The suit he boasted was Armati, the trench coat, Italian leather.
This guy was loaded.
The boy glanced up at the bank's clock to his right. 5:45 pm, forty-two degrees Fareinheit. His eyes darted back to his intended victim, still talking, still nodding, burst into a chuckle, then continued his conversation with the piece of plastic.
...Now...
With a bump of the shoulder, the boy stumbled, his face showing feinted surprise as the man in the Italian leather trenchcoat caught him with his free arm.
"Just a second, Ralph," He uprighted the boy. "You okay, son? Sorry about that, didn't see you there."
"Oh, fine, sir, thanks..." the boy nodded quickly, his voice embarassed. "I should have been looking where I was going..."
"No problem..." The man nodded, then walked away, returning to his conversation.
With a sigh, the boy disappeared into the ocean of people, following a current down to a subway terminal.
A high-pitch whine suddenly alerted him. Electronic in nature...
...Police-issued tracking frequency...
"Shit..." the boy dodged passed through the stall and into the southbound train. It was extremely crowded.
Good.
Casually, he flipped open the wallet he had lifted from the man with the cell phone and opened the bill fold.
Sure enough, a tracker was sewed into the leather of the wallet.
Glancing over his shoulder, he stuck his finger on the tracking device. Reverting his attention back to the wallet, he narrowed his eyes and stared at the nettlesome electronic.
Short, he ordered mentally. There was a slight snap, and the little blinking red light in the panel died.
The high-pitched frequency halted abruptly. Another seemingly casual glance over his shoulder, he saw a couple of policemen staring down at a palm-puter, bewildered.
With a quiet chuckle to himself, Luke MacArin weaved through the subway cars with the ease of a dancer, disappearing once more in the crowd.
The alleyway was called Hell's Pantry by the denizens who live there; makeshift tents and trash-can fires were littered in between the soggy boxes and dumpsters.
Luke had claimed a rather dry area inside a condemned church at the end of the alleyway, farthest away from most of the other homeless people. He shared the church with four others around his age: Tobias, a large kid with powerful hands and a sharp tongue, his twin sister Tabitha, a petite waif with a beautiful face and quiet demeanor, Archie, the quote-unquote breadwinner of the group with his dealings with the local drug dealers, and his girlfriend, Jackie, a fiery red-head who was, sadly, four months pregnant.
Save Tabby, these kids were not his friends. They were merely roommates, agreed to protect one another in case of a territory raid or bad drug bust or something of the sort.
Luke growled as he entered the area that had become his home. He did not want to be there; perhaps if he hadn't been abandoned by his wanderlust mother when he was five, things would have been different.
With a disgruntled sigh, he pushed open a flap to a tent made from a green tarp, patched with duct tape.
"Mrs. Gorden?" he beckoned, unneeded. The elderly woman from her knitting looked up and smiled. She and her husband had been evicted from their apartment two months ago by a landlord who was selling their apartment to the city to be torn down for parking space. The Gordens, with no children to help them, searched for another affordable apartment to no avail.
"Luke? Come on in," Mrs. Gorden waved him to come closer. She was draped in a thick homemade quilt, beautifully crafted under the dinge, her hands covered in woolen gloves. "How are you today? Mr. Gorden just stepped out for a bit, but he'll be back--"
"Mrs. Gorden, I brought you something," he whispered, closing the flap of the tent and unslinging his backpack from his shoulder. Carefully, he pulled out a paper bag and, from within that, a paper container of soup from the deli a few blocks down. "Thought you and Mr. Gorden would like to have some fresh soup. Chicken Noodle. Probably not as good as how you make it, but I didn't have time to pick up ingredients."
"Oh, bless your heart, Luke," she clapped her hands together, her knitting dropping into her lap. "The Lord must truly smile upon us to bless us with such good friends to watch us, praise the Lord! I wish I had something to give you in return--"
"Don't worry about it, Mrs. Gorden. You need everything more than I."
"You've a good heart, Luke. I wish the others were like you." Her grey eyes hooded. "They are so selfish, even when they are in need. They've become no more than intelligent dogs, fighting over the last scrap of meal."
"That's how they grew up," Luke retorted. "They've lived on the streets most of their lives.
"But still, they could learn to show the respect they demand."
"If so, then we would all be better off," the boy nodded. "But it's not just the homeless...the ones who have their houses...there are those who are no different than Archie."
A sudden scream in the alleyway interrupted their discussion. Luke bolted to his feet and peered out of the tentflap, Mrs. Gorden leaning with a groan to peek under his arm.
"What's going on, Luke?" she questioned. "Damn my old eyes, what's going on?"
"Looks like a drug bust," he whispered.
"That no-good Archie, no doubt."
"Perhaps...I'm going to check it out. You stay here, and keep warm."
"I don't think I'm in the position to argue. You be careful, Luke."
"I will."
With that, the boy stepped out of the tent, staring at the four cops surrounding the Nordic young adult. Archie instantly met Luke's green eyes and narrowed his cold blue ones.
"He's the one you're looking for," he nodded towards the smaller boy. "He's the one who's been dealing..."
"What?" Luke arched both brows.
The cops turned.
And Luke bolted.
Fear was an interesting modivator. Anger too, anger that wanted to strangle the accuser. What the hell was he thinking?
He had to get out of town fast...but how?
Five blocks away from the drug bust, four creatures from another planet remained hidden. A sharp-looking Chevy Cavalier, white with black decals and bumpers, was parked at the end of the street, next to an old-style yellow Volkswagen Beetle, which in turn was between the Cavalier and a blue Corvette with red flames on the wheelbase, the final car being a large black Pontiac GTO. Aside from the Cavalier, the four looked like museum-quality showpieces, with the exception of the bumper stickers on the Beetle.
"Anyone care to explain what we're doing?" The Chevy piped up suddenly, bored out of her neural processor.
"We're staking out," the Bug retorted, almost excitedly. "We're undercover."
"We're showing off our new paintjobs," the Corvette beamed. "Oh, I was so lucky to find the right colour for my fender...it matches perfectly!"
"Will you guys quiet down?" the GTO hissed. "Rodimus sends three of the most attention-getting bots, plus one of the loudest--"
"Hey!" the Cavalier protested.
"--For a stakeout. Good kid, good ideas, needs a bit more experience..." She trailed off. "Tracks, I think you did a lousy job with my symbol..."
"No way! I never screw up a paint job!" The Corvette protested.
"She's refering to the fact her symbol's got two faint purple horns," the Cavalier smirked.
There was a moment of silence.
"Shut the slag up, Cav," the GTO ordered. "But she's right...did you just paint over the old one or what?"
"Blame that on Jazz," Tracks stated bluntly. "I never screw up a paint job."
"Then why was I called 'Herbie' for three days straight?" the Beetle demanded.
"That was different," Tracks paused. "That was on purpose."
Suddenly, sirens hit their auditory receptors. A crackle over their two-way radios soon followed.
"Eye in the sky report, folks! We've got a lone suspect on foot heading your wait, Artemis!"
The GTO affirmed. "We read you, Blades. What's Groove's situation?"
"I'll be heading him off at the pass," the motorcycle Protectobot stated over the airwaves. "You guys just make sure he doesn't do anything drastic, and don't lose him!"
"Not a problem!" Cavalier retorted, just as a redheaded kid bolted out from an alleyway, almost smack into Artemis's fender. Swiftly, he lept, running across her hood, then jumped onto Tracks's, followed by Bumblebee's roof, and diving into Cavalier's open passenger-side window. A swift click later, he was in her driver's seat, turning over the ignition, and, with a swift shift of gears, zoomed off.
With Cavalier screaming enough obscenities to make a Junkion blush.
"What the hell just happened?" Bumblebee demanded.
"I've got a footprint on my hood!" Tracks whined.
"My question is more like how's he getting away!" Artemis retorted, turning over her own engine. "Blades, Groove, your perp just took off with Cavalier! I don't know how, but lock onto her sig! I'm persuing! Cav, do you read me?"
"GET THIS CARBONSLAGGER OFF MY CONTROLS!!!"
"Easy, Cav! I'm right behind you!" the large black automobile shifted into pursuit. "How's he controlling you?"
"I DON'T KNOW!!! MY MOTOR SKILLS'VE BEEN OVERRIDDEN!! GET ME OUT OF THIS MESS!!!"
"How can he override an Autobot?" Tracks demanded, taking up Artemis's trail. "My poor hood...."
"Talk about weird," Bumblebee agreed. "We'd better inform Rod about this!"
"Ease up, buddy," Luke ordered with a growl. "Don't make me shut off your vox too..."
"Who they hell do you think you are?!" Cavalier demanded.
"Name's Luke. Luke MacArin. And you are an Autobot. I want to thank you for the challenge. I've never hotwired a Transformer before."
"And you're not supposed to be able to hotwire me! How'd you do it?"
"Trade secret," he stated bluntly. "I can hotwire, hack, and crack anything. Wasn't sure about transformers, but, heh, looks like I did pretty good on my first time. So, what's your name?"
"You're gonna get in real big trouble doing this, not with just the law, but the Autobots as well!"
"You would too if you had no where else to go. I had a buddy who pretty much pointed me on something I didn't do. And with my status, if the cops got me, I'm up Shit Creek without a paddle, even though I didn't do anything."
"You highjacked a car."
"I highjacked an Autobot. There is a difference. What's your name?"
She became silent for a couple of seconds.
"Cavalier," she stated bluntly.
"Ah, eloquetely put. Anyway, I didn't exactly want to take your friends...the Vette and Goat stick out like sore thumbs, and I wouldn't be able to get too far with the Bug." He downshifted, taking a corner on two wheels, onto an entrance ramp onto Interstate 5, heading out of the city.
"What are you running for, anyway?"
"Not sure. All I know is that a friend of mine--or so I thought--pointed me out to police for something he did. The problem is, I'm pretty much wanted anyway for being a street kid to begin with."
"And for grand theft auto..." Her smirk was audible. "Listen, Luke, why don't we just pull over and talk this over, okay? I'm sure we can work this out somehow--"
"--I've been running for most of my life, Cavalier...I don't know any other way." He casually glanced into the rearview mirror, then down at her gauges behind the steering column. Two-fourteen KPM. Great. Stuck in a car from Canada. He did a quick calculation in his head as he weaved in and out of traffic with unnatural agility, combining both his own lightning quick reflexes with the Cybertronian presision machinery. "Not bad handling capabilities...not bad at all."
"Thanks. Come on, Luke. You're in big trouble as it is. And as much as I don't want to do it on I-5, I will hit by manual kill switch."
"You're bluffing," he retorted. "And I can't. Do you know what it's like to live on the streets most of your life, without a family, without a real home, always watching your back and afraid to sleep?"
"I grew up in a group home, if that's any consolation." Her voice lost its edge of cynicalism.
Luke blinked somewhat, almost missing an opening between a blue and white Porshe and a red baja Beetle in the middle lane of the highway.
"Didn't think Cybertronians grew up in the sense we humans do," he retorted, matching pace with the Bug in front of him as he looked over his shoulder briefly to change lanes. A battered light blue pickup sped suddenly to match speed along side the white and black Autobot.
"You'd be surprised how much similar we are," Cavalier scoffed. "It's--"
"Clever..." the human glared at the pickup, sans-driver. "Your friends are attempting to entrap us."
"No, really?" Her cynic edge returned as sirens wailed in the distance.
"No, really," he deftly cranked the wheel hard to his right to merge with the travelling lane, only to compensate back to the left as a large auto transport took up the spot.
"I warned you," Cavalier taunted.
"I'm not out of options yet," Luke gritted his teeth, casting his gaze to the transport just as four cruisers, two of them Autobots, sped along side the entrapment, lights and sirens blaring as other motorists rushed to escape the interstate.
There was a sudden curse from the transport, and then a surprised cry as the large blue and white tractor trailor swerved dangerously into the guardrail on the far right, barely missing the police cruisers. Toppling off the overpass, Ultra Magnus transformed, clutching at the loosening tarmac.
That black Goat from earlier covered fast ground towards the accident, turning sharply and slamming brakes, clouds of friction smoke billowing from its tires as it careened to a stop in front of the fallen Autobot. Transforming as well, a large black female robot, she snatched Ultra Magnus's flailing hand. With a mighty heave, she attempted to pull the much larger Autobot back up on the overpass, her face contorted in consentration. The ground transport managed to swing a leg onto the overpass, pushing himself up and over, losing his balance momentarily. She caught him deftly, without a word, righted him, and took off again, hitting the ground on four tires as she transformed in mid stride.
Ultra Magnus only blinked, watching the black musclecar he had once called friend so long ago and enemy only recently speed off, then shook his head as he was joined up with Rodimus Prime and Blurr.
"You all right, big guy?" Rodimus questioned. To his companion, he added, "Blurr, head them off at the pass!"
"NotaproblemnosirreeI'monitonitonit!" Blurr saluted, taking up to the chase.
"I've never encountered anything like that before..." Ultra Magnus stated coolly. "It was as though that human...was actually controlling me..."
"What?" The red and yellow leader questioned. "Magnus, are you sure?"
"I lost control long enough for something to...push me..." The larger Autobot shook his head. "I'm still disorientated..."
As the two Autobots conversed of the happenings, they failed to notice the Decepticon behind them, leveling both arm-mounted null rays to their heads, crosshairs locked dead on target.
A short burst of fire--
--the shots were dead on accurate.
But neither Rodimus nor Ultra Magnus fell victim to the phantom blasts. In fact, their only reactions were a slight glance over their shoulders and a collective shrug.
Starscream was not pleased.
Lowering weapons, he narrowed his optics, willing himself forward after the black car.
This death bit was making in very irrate.
But that was a less important matter.
Ultra Magnus himself said a human controlled his actions. A human! A lowly, flesh-ridden human controlled the actions of a Cybertronian. What a disgusting concept!
In almost no time, he had caught up with the Starlight black GTO, gliding effortlessly above her. If she knew he was there, she made no attempt to speak to him as she took up Ultra Magnus's place in the entrapment, freeing up Streetwise to return with the police blockade.
"Come on, Luke, just give up...you don't have a chance now!" Cavalier pleaded. "This is only making it harder on yourself!"
"Blockade's coming up!" Cliffjumper shouted, pulling out from pole position to the left, in front of Kup.
"Surprise surprise!" Jazz shouted, slamming on his breaks, brodying to a stop as Artemis and Kup fell back behind Cavalier, matching her speed as well.
"What are you doing, Flyboy?" the black Goat snarled under the roar of her engine, low enough for the older Autobot not to hear.
"At last, you acknowledge me!" the ghost stated with a heartful chortle as he condensed into a solid orb of energy, slamming into and through Cavalier's roof. The white and black Autobot seemed unphased, until the human inside suddenly started, his hands flying to his face. Cavalier swerved dangerously near Kup with a shout as she fought for control. The old soldier bolted forward around the sportscar's tail end, his engine hitting a dangerous whine as the black GTO did the same, only emitting a louder roar, swerving to flank Kup. As he kept tabs on Cavalier, Artemis hit her brakes and downshifted with a tight corner, leaving a black patch in a semicircle in her tires' wake, until she finally stopped, her engine idling.
What the hell was that good-for-nothing ghost doing?
Whatever it was, the smaller Autobot wasn't liking it too much as she ricochetted off the left guardrail, her front axle smashing inward, catching on the twisted metal and flipping the vehicle onto her roof, spinning slightly from the leftover inertia.
There was a sudden rush as all the Autobots in the area reverted to their robot modes, rushing towards their fallen comrade.
"First Aid, get here, stat!" Streetwise barked into his comm link Artemis and Kup raced up beside him. "Cavalier's been rolled over!"
"Acknowledged! I'm on my way!"
"Lass, can you hear me?" Kup knelt before the whimpering Autobot.
"I...can...." Her voice depicted agony. "Luke?"
There was some muttering from the human. Nothing coherent, at least to the other Autobots.
"Let's get her upright," Artemis suggested, her tone stoic as she nodded towards Kup. On three, they gently lifted Cavalier, turned her over, and set her back on her tires.
"Axle's broken...I can tell you that," Kup shook his head just as a black-haired human in civilian dress raced from one of the police cruisers.
"Detective Nate Lovecraft, 2nd Class," he flashed a badge from his leather jacket. "Anyone hurt?"
"My axle's broken, I'm gonna need some time in the body shop..." Cavalier's tone dropped. "I don't know about Luke...."
"Luke?" Detective Lovecraft seemed unphased by the fact he was conversing with giant sentient robots. "Do you know his full name?"
"Luke MacArin...you gonna do something about him? Something spooked him big time...I don't know what...slot...my slottin' axle...where the slag's First Aid?"
"Cavalier!" Rodimus and Ultra Magnus finally joined in the group.
"What happened? We heard a Primus-awful crash..." Rodimus winced when he caught a glimpse at the sportscar. "Primus, Cav...."
"I'll be all right..." she hissed, then winced painfully as the officer forced open her driver's side door. "Careful, there!"
"Sorry...Zoe! Call in base! We've got our perp!" The human pushed his bangs back, examining the battered youth in the passenger seat. He had been wearing a seat belt, but it wasn't enough to stop his head from connecting with the steering column. A gash, running the full width of his forehead, bled profusely into his face, drenching his tee-shirt and combat jacket. He was losing consciousness, and fast. "Shit...Zoe! Get over here and bring the kit with you!"
An ambulance approached at breakneck speed, careening to a stop. Just as Detective Lovecraft's partner, a mousy-haired woman with dark blue eyes and also dressed in civie clothes, along with three unifromed cops, arrived on the scene, gathering around the driver's side of the wounded Autobot. Two more ambulances pulled up to the accident scene, one of them sporting an Autobot symbol above the reversed "AMBULANCE" stencil on its hood. First Aid converted to bot mode, gesturing sternly towards the other Autobots.
"Clear the area! Non-medical personnel step back!" he ordered, his soft-spoken voice edged with authority as the human paramedics surged towards the scene of the accident, gurney at the ready.
"What about Cav?" Rodimus questioned worriedly to the Protectobot. First Aid shook his head.
"I can't get to her until they take care of the human first," he stated ruefully, shaking his head.
"Looks to me that her front axle's snapped," Kup added as they watched the one paramedic place a neck brace around the kid's neck as another tended to the gash on his forehead. "What was that kid thinking?"
"What's bothering me is how that human managed to control Cavalier and Ultra Magnus," Artemis stated coolly.
"And, for that matter, what spooked him?" Streetwise added.
The others failed to notice Artemis's glare to her right.
"Zoe, go with the paramedics! I want to know when this kid's conscious," the black haired human ordered to his partner as the paramedics placed the young man on the gurney. "He's got a lot of explaining to do."
"Gotcha, Nate!" Zoe saluted, flashing her badge to the driver of the ambulance en route to the passenger seat. "Zoe Sommers, Detective 3rd class, 16th precinct."
"Morgan, Cates, Chance, start rerouting traffic. If the accident itself doesn't attract attention, the Volton Force will." Detective Lovecraft shot a glance up at Rodimus, shook his head with a snort, then returned his attention to the banged up Cavalier. "Whoever's in charge of your guys, better weed down your numbers to those who need to be here."
"Protectobots, Kup, Ultra Magnus. Artemis, too. The rest of you, head back to base. Have Wreck Gar prep the infirmary," The last order, Rodimus issued to Blurr. "Hopefully, this doesn't take too long."
"Absolutelypositivelynoproblem!" Blurr agreed speedily as he reverted to vehicle mode, quickly taking to the lead of the departing Autobots.
"I need some questions answered," the detective stated as First Aid examined the white and black sports car. "Who's up to telling me what exactly happened? Any witnesses?"
"Yeah, this kid comes barrel-assing out from an alley-way and takes off with Cav," Artemis shrugged, her tone even. "The boys and I took up chase, but the way the dude was driving, and taking into consideration we all have a problem cornering at the speeds he was taking, we lost him, until Groove alerted us to him hitting I-5. "
"That's when we brought in the entrapment manuervuer," Kup added. "Just in case Cavalier was able to throw her kill switch, we would be able to prevent keep up with her so not to cause any accidents."
"Ultra Magnus, what happened then?" Rodimus questioned.
"I lost control. It was as though something hacked into my motor relays and bypassed them." Ultra Magnus still seemed a little phased by the notion, still a bit disbelieved something like that could happen.
"It was a good thing we got traffic cleared out in that lane," Detective Lovecraft nodded, his voice betraying no true emotion.
"I took up his position," Artemis continued. "When Streetwise informed us of the road block two kilometers ahead, we then executed a flanking position. Cliffjumper would pull out in front of Kup while Jazz fell behind. Kup and I moved to flank Cavalier, to herd, if need be."
"Then the kid flipped out," Kup added. "Don't know why; one click, he was in control, the next, swerving into the guard rail."
"It's worse than I thought," First Aid then retorted. "Cavalier, it's going to hurt, but I need you to transform."
"Wha..why? What's wrong?" the white and black Autobot demanded. "I ain't gonna go offline or anything, right? Frig, I just got here...I can't go offline! Primus, tell him, Rod, I can't--"
"Ease up, Cav. Just calm down. We'll get you through this, no problem." Rodimus ordered softly. "First Aid, what is it?"
First Aid sighed heavily.
"She won't go offline," he shook his head. "But her entire steering box's collapsed, her CV-joint's snapped in two, her drive shaft's met a similar fate...and her front axle's broken."
"Shit," Cavalier cursed.
"Two weeks on Earth and she's already picking up the lingo," Artemis muttered.
"So what does this mean?" Rodimus demanded.
"As much as I entrust the skills of the Junkions, we should replace the fractured pieces with new parts. Until then..."
"My vehicle mode's useless," Cavalier grumbled painfully, finishing First Aid's train of thought.
"Well, in a nutshell..." the medic agreed reluctantly.
"Shit," the white and black Autobot swore again.
"Can you transform?" Rodimus asked sincerely.
"I'll try..." Her form twisted somewhat, then, with a loud grinding that made all the Autobots wince, her front end snapped up at an awkward angle as a few sparks flew from her chest cavity. Fully transformed, she then hit the ground with her knee, clutching her chest with her right hand. Her left hung limply at her side. "Slottin' carbon-slaggin' sunovaBITCH! That HURT!"
"Let's get back to base, then," the yellow and red leader nodded. "The sooner we do, the sooner we can get you patched up, Cav."
"Sounds like a plan," she grumbled, grimacing in agony as she took a step. "Dammit."
"Hold up there, kemosabe," Detective Lovecraft held up his hand. "What we've got here is a key witness, not to mention an accessory to resisting arrest."
"And what we have here is a wounded Autobot who needs medical attention as soon as possible," Artemis snarled, glaring daggers down at the black-haired human. "This isn't the time nor the place to discuss this."
"Artemis's right," Rodimus nodded. "Under normal circumstances, we would comply, Detective. But seeing that these aren't normal circumstances...." Glancing towards Kup, he then added, "if you wish to question her and us further, then you are more than welcome to follow us back to Autobot City."
Detective Lovecraft shook his head with a grumble.
"Fuckin' E.D.C. regs..." he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he retorted, "I've got to fill out the paperwork at the precinct, but be expecting a visitor tomorrow for a little Q & A. I don't know about you, but I aim to get to the bottom of this."
"The same goes for us," Kup interjected. "Whatever that kid did to Cavalier and Ultra Magnus, it's not good news."
"Depending on your point of view, that is," a malicious hiss breathed past Artemis's auditory sensor. "He could see me, Arty."
Her optics narrowed dangerously, though not focused on anything in particular.
"You don't need to say anything...I know you're trying to prove to the Autobots you're sane...I shall take my leave of you...for the moment, at least. This flesh creature interests me. I covet more information."
There was a brief stir of air next to her face, then Starscream's presense was gone.
Peace, at least for another couple of megacycles, she thought dryly.
She watched sourly as Streetwise and Hotspot loaded up the wounded Autobot onto Ultra Magnus's trailor, Cavalier continuing her painful griping.
Knowing the situation at hand, Starscream was the one at fault here. Hed he not interfered, Cavalier, and for that matter, the human, would not have been hurt. Simple as that. However, it didn't matter who the blame was put on at the moment, least of all a dead Air Commander whom only Artemis and apparently now the human could see.
What a strange day indeed, she concluded, transforming into her vehicular mode and bringing up the rear of the group as they headed east, back towards base.
And something told her things were about to become even stranger.
"'I like black and white, dreaming black and white, you like black and white, run runaway! See chameleon, lying there, in the sun, all things to everyone, run runaway!'"
The smaller purple and gold Autobot watched the maroon and navy medic running in circles as he cleaned up the lab. She tended to do things a little more methodically when she picked up after a service; her companion, like now, preferred a song and dance act.
"Y'know, bloke, things would probably get done faster if you kept your mind on the task at hand and not on Terran Retro," she stated.
"And this is why, me gal, that ye's the assistant," he tweaked her nose playfully. "For yer information, I'se singing the GBS version. So sue me, I'se in a good mood."
"Seriously, Zodiac, how can you be in such a great mood all the time?"
"Positive thinking!" The medic gave the medlab a quick scan to reassure that everything was in fact in place. "Ye should try it sometime, Brits, me gal."
Brits shook her head with a smirk.
"You're really part Junkion, aren't you?"
"Nope; colony Autobot."
"Which one, Junk?"
"Now ye's gettin' personal, me gal," Zodiac waved a finger at her. He was about to retort further when a buzz on the intercomm interrupted his mock-chide. "Zodiac here."
"Hey, Zodiac." A light blue Autobot blinked onscreen, his optics in a state of worry, a rare expression for him.
"What's wrong, Ranger?" Zodiac's mood also darkened.
"Word from Autobot City. There's been an accident. Cavalier's--"
"Oh, good mother of Primus--" Zodiac whimpered. "Brits, me kitbag, quick--"
"What happened, bloke?" Brits demanded.
"She's gonna be all right...but First Aid has requested that you bring some supplies Earthside and assist him in the repairs."
"What does she need, me son? Quick, for the love of Primus..."
"Er..." Ranger glanced down at something, probably a hand-written note he scrawled out while taking the message. "Axle, drive shaft, steering box, CV joint--slot, she really did take a beating...oh, and a case of energon lager."
"That's not exactly standard repair equipment," Brits stated coolly.
"Cav was screaming for it in the background...can't ignore her, you know that."
"Sounds like a plan, me son. What's the transport detail?"
"Skyfire's gonna take you Earthside."
"Have ye told Stormy yet?" "She's waiting with Skyfire."
"Sweet love of Primus, Cav's Earthside not even twenty solar cycles and she's already causing enough trouble to make me sweat oil..." Zodiac snatched his kitbag from Brits and slung it over his shoulder. "Britz, me gal, call down to the supply storage and relay the order. I'se on me way to pick it up. Ye's in charge 'till I'se gets back, got it?"
"Your lab's in good hands," the purple and gold femme nodded. "Give Cav my best."
"Thanks, me gal," he replied with a slight but worried smile before he bolted out of the lab.
Brits immediately flipped on the intercomm once more.
"Brits to Packrat."
There was loud static as the screen came into focus, revealing a blue and brown rattish looking bot in storage surroundings.
"Talk to me, beautiful. Whatcha need, besides a real man?"
"In your dreams. We need some new parts. Zodiac's on his way to pick them up. Cavalier's been damaged heavily in the front end. We're gonna need pretty much a new front end assembly."
"Everything save the engine. Gotcha. Me and Torque will have 'em ready by the time Bones gets here. Billing purposes, who's this goin' to?"
"Seeing that the order came from First Aid, I would say our fearless leader," she stated coolly.
"Er...right. Got it. Packrat out."
To Skyfire, the Autobot standing ten paces away from him was a dead-on Seeker.
There was no way in the Pit she could have been built Autobot. That was a
strictly Decepticon jet design; the Autobot jets she commanded in Sky Patrol
were sleaker, built more for speed and interception than actual fire power.
He had said nothing to her yet; truthfully, he didn't want to. She said she was going because her friend needed her; last time someone said that to Skyfire, he ended up a couple of megacycles later heavily stunned by null rays for defending a couple of humans.
If it looked like a Seeker and walked like a Seeker, then chances are, it was a Seeker.
But then again, he was a Decepticon before. Perhaps this one had a similar past, one that brought her to the side of good and light.
"Stormrave!" Zodiac rushed out towards her suddenly, jarring Skyfire out of his train of thought. "Ye heard, me gal?"
"Yeah! Get your Junkion-lovin' ass in gear!" the red and grey jet ordered. "As soon as I find out who did this to Cav, I'm gonna--"
"Ease up, hot-head!" Zodiac ordered. "I'se gotta gets the parts from Supply--"
"Special delivery, coming through!" The nasally whine of Packrat suddenly called out as he careened around a corner at a dangerous speed, the back of his vehicle form weighed down by large boxes. The light blue and green sports car tailing him brodied to a stop and transformed, rushing towards the three Autobots waiting.
"Rush delivery, while you wait!" Packrat's companion chirped as he began unloading the cargo. "So Cav got herself a little trouble, eh? Brits' said she got her entire front assembly totalled. She run into a wall again or what?"
"Not funny, Torque," Stormrave chided, her fists clenched.
"We don't know what happened yet," Zodiac retorted, placing a hand gently on the Sky Patrol commander's wrist. "That's why we're going Earthside."
"Ain't the Junkions down there?" Packrat questioned. "They'd fix her up pretty damn good, I'd imagine."
"Cav's fussy," the medic smirked, though worry still lined his face. "Also, we'se got to replace parts, not just repair them. We'se probably looking at a total reconstruction. So if ye could be so kind as to step up the pace--"
"Relax, Bones! I'm familiar with front end collisions!" Packrat, once he was relieved of the load, returning to bot mode with a shrug as he aided Torque with the transfer to Skyfire's cargo hold. "Hell, I had a couple of them in my life, to boot. If I survive them, she can. You should know better than me, you're the medic."
"Just load the slag," Stormrave commanded.
"Yes, ma'am!" The wiry Autobot saluted, a little melodramatically. "Nope, I'm not gonna be the one who pisses off the Air Commander, no way!"
Zodiac could have sworn the fuming red and grey jet's optics flashed red as she stepped foward, her hand clenched and reaching for the smaller Autobot's throat.
"Ease off, me gal, he's only tryin' to get you worked up," he warned.
"Oh, I'm worked up, all right..." she snarled.
Torque then decided it was best to change the subject, and fast.
"Hey, why are you being all chummy to each other all of a sudden?" He questioned with a broad smile.
Both Zodiac and Stormrave stared at Packrat's companion, his arms crossed over his chest in a matter-of-factly stance.
"Oh, now why would I want to be chums with this fly-gal hothead?"
"I've got better things to do than to even consider hanging out with Guppy-bot here!"
"Thought so," Torque smirked.
"Okay, load's packed and secure, just need one little thing from Bones," Packrat dusted off his hands and produced a clipboard and stylus. "For records, y'know...gotta make the Council happy."
Torque made a circle in the air with his index finger and rolled his optics as Zodiac complied.
"Rules and regulations. The wonders that make our great society," he commented as Zodiac returned the clipboard to Packrat.
"Don't knock it, bro. That great society is signing our paycheques."
"Thanks, me sons," Zodiac nodded. "This is greatly appreciated. Okay, Stormy, Skyfire, let's get to Earth. I'se just hearin' Cav now bitchin' and moanin' 'bout how long we took..."
"We forgot the beer," Stormrave pointed out.
"Slag, I knew we'se forgetin' somethin'."
"I don't think now is a good time to be discussing such matters," Skyfire stated mildly.
"Either way, Cav's gonna bitch," Stormrave retorted as they boarded the transport.
"Skyfire to Cybertron Command," the red and white Autobot beckoned through the comm systems. "We request clearance to take off."
"Skyfire, this is Chromia of Cybertron Command. You have been cleared for warpgate jump, and Autobot City has been notified of your departure."
"Thank you, Chromia," the transport jet prepped up his engines, taxiing the runway for a half-kilometer before increasing throttle. Engines at full power, Skyfire pulled his nose up and climbed high through the thin Cybertronian atmosphere and into the starry beyond.
***
Moonbase 1
Orbiting Cybertron
Moonracer, her reflection in the tinted glass of the window, stared out into space, watching as Skyfire streaked past, towards the gold warpgate, towards Earth.
"Boring..." she sighed, propping her elbows on the console and resting her chin on her hands. "Nothing exciting ever happens anymore."
"I call it a blessing," Her companion, Firestar, retorted from the workstation next to her. "At least now we can relax somewhat."
"Oh, I'm relaxed all right." The green femme's index finger twitched somewhat against her temple. "I'm so relaxed right now, I could just spit. The Great War may by over, but something tells me there's gonna be trouble soon. I know it."
"You're being paranoid, Moonracer," Firestar chuckled.
"I'm being cautious."
"Suit yourself," the red Autobot shrugged, observing the transport jet engulfed by the golden glow of the warpgate tesseract. "Wonder what it's like on Earth. The others seem to like it."
"Not for me, thanks. I like it right here on the planet we fought for."
"I thought you were just complaining how there was nothing to do on Cybertron."
"There isn't!" Moonracer moaned, her optics narrowed, defeated.
A light suddenly blinked in front of her nose. She stared at it for a couple of clicks, registering what it was.
"Slag! Proximity sensor!" The green Autobot cried out, bolting upright as she studied her monitor. "I'm not picking up anything!"
"Same here...possibly some debris tripped one off?"
"After what happened a few solar cycles ago, I don't think we should take any chances." Moonracer jabbed the comm button. "Elita-One, Moonracer here. I think we've got incoming!"
"I'll be right up. Elita-One, out."
"I don't like the way my hackles are raised about this one, either, Moonracer," Firestar admitted. "Autoguns, online! Shields up!"
"I'm picking up Decepticon signatures!" Moonracer exclaimed, optics widening. "Four in all...Seeker designates?"
"Now there's a dying breed," Firestar retorted. "I didn't think there were that many Seekers in existance anymore."
"Keep shields up," their leader, a pink and grey femme with penetrating optics and a smooth voice, ordered from behind them. "Firestar, hail them."
"This is Cybertron Moonbase to incoming Decepticons. Disengage and fall back, or we will open fire."
There was an uneasy pause as Moonracer's fingers lay in wait upon the keys to command the laser turrets.
"This is Cybertron Moonbase to incoming Decepticons," Firestar repeated. "Disengage--"
"DISENGAGE THIS, AUTOBOT PANSIES!!!" A loud shout with a prominent twang echoed through the comm system, followed by maniacal laughter, as laser fire strafed the base, a fraction quicker than the Autobot turrets could recharge and fire.
"All personnel prepare for engagement!" Elita-One barked into the intercomm. To Moonracer, she added, "Contact Cybertron Hub and inform them of the situation! Firestar, you're with me."
"Iacon Defense, this is Moonbase 1! We have Decepticon activity!" the green femme hailed as Elita-One and Firestar exuented.
"We hear you, Moonracer! Do you require backup?" Chromia demanded.
"We'll take some arial backup up here!"
"Consider it done! We're sending Sky Patrol up! Cybertron Defense, out!"
"Computer, lock onto Decepticon sigs and fire!" Moonracer then ordered the system.
"Compliance."
"Oh, and I'm just gonna let the others have all the fun," she scoffed, unsheathing her own laser and rushing out of the base, running head-on into another Autobot, a large sky blue male at least two heads taller than her.
"Easy, there, beautiful!" he chuckled. "Elita told me we're on control room duty until those Decepti-goons are subdued."
"Slaggit!" Moonracer growled, pivoting sharply on her heel and stormed back to the control room. "Of all the Autobots on base, why you?"
"Because we make a cute couple?"
"Oh, please, Apollo. Decepticons are attacking, and you're here making the moves on a mated female. You're pathetic."
"Just trying to be friendly, that's all..."
"Apollo, we don't have time for your games!" Moonracer hopped back into her seat and brought up a targeting screen. "Now you either man the turret, or you stay out of the way!"
"Okay, okay!" Apollo held his hands up in defense as he took Firestar's seat, bringing up another turret display. "My, aren't we a little touchy!"
"Obviously you're not concerned about the Decepticons attacking the base."
"Hey, there's only four of them," Apollo winked. "How much damage could they possibly do?"
Dangerous drunk, dangerous sober, the orange Seeker thought as she let rained
a volley of laser fire upon the gathering Autobots in the parade grounds of
the base.
"That's right!" the black and red leader shot past her companion. "Flush 'em out! Let's show these pathetic weaklings what happens when they take our home! Airstrike, Foxfire, clusterbomb 'em! Sidewinder, you're with me! Vengeance Posse, move out!"
A collective whoop from the two males tailing sounded as they split into formation, the orange femme and green male banked sharply, the two others pulling up into an invert.
"We's gonna vape 'em, Sonyx? Please, tell me we's gonna vape 'em!" the leader's partner whined.
"All in good time, Sidewinder; in the meanwhile, fire at will! I'm taking out the turrets!"
"Yeehah!" Sidewinder pitched downward, tranforming into his robot mode and hitting the ground running, firing his lasers at anything with an Autobot symbol, including inanimate objects.
The one called Sonyx rolled left, towards the command tower. Her missiles cycled, taking a couple of hits from the laser turrets to her wings. With a furious shout, she touched off two Sparrows tracked onto the turrets, shifting into robot mode without slowing down, flanking both missiles. Both Sparrows found home; the turrets exploded in a fiery rain of shrapnel and plasma. Through the smoke and greenish flame, the black and red Decepticon slammed through the glass of the control hub, shattering shards around her as her foot connected sharply with Moonracer's chin.
"I claim this base in the name of the Decepticons!" Sonyx shouted, aiming her laser at the recovering femme.
"Moonracer!" Apollo shot forward, drawing his own weapon and leveling it at the Seeker. "Come on, Decepticon, why don't you pick on someone--"
The arm swung around, blasting a powerful charge of null ray square in the Autobot's chest.
"You talk too much," she snarled, only to be on the receiving end of a swift kick from the green femme.
"Give it up, Decepticon; you're grossly outnumbered!" Moonracer winced, landing another blow to her mid-section, shattering the Seeker's canopy.
"Outnumbered, but never outwitted!" Sonyx shouted, snapping her arm around and slamming her elbow into Moonracer's temple. The Autobot collapsed, attempting to compensate, as the Decepticon's attention returned to the light blue male. "You..."
Apollo shook his head, fighting the affects of the null ray, taking a nanoclick to realise that Sonyx was addressing him. She stood over him, her crimson optics glaring down angrily.
"I've seen you before," she growled. "Or I've seen someone like you..." Swiftly, she snatched his arm, yanking him upward, examining his shoulder design, the rounded chrome top-over-bottom style headlights coming to a point. "Yes...colouration, gender style differences...but the same overall form of my personal nemesis...." Her other hand snatched at his neck. "Where is Artemis?"
Apollo's optics suddenly widened, then quickly narrowed angrily. "Learned her lesson from hanging around the likes of you, no doubt!"
"Where is she?" Sonyx pressed the barrel of her laser into the Autobot's temple as the saprano whine of Autobot jets roared overhead.
"Sonyx, they brought in Sky Patrol!" Sidewinder's voice cried over her comm.
"We no longer have an advantage! We should retreat!" Foxfire added.
"Cowards!" Sonyx shrieked. "Run back to base, cowards! Run and prove to Galvatron that we are weak!"
"Sounds good to me. Airstrike out."
"Fools!"
Apollo chuckled.
"I'll have to admit, that was one thing Sis wasn't, and that was a coward," he hissed.
"'Sis,' eh?" Sonyx jabbed him sharply. "I was right; you do talk too much--"
Blasts from Autobot weapons grazed across her flank. She snarled, twisting at the waist to witness Firestar and Elita-One leading four other Autobots into the room, firing warning shots.
"Step away from him, Decepticon," the pink leader ordered. "Or face the direst of concequences."
"If you're gonna shoot, shoot to kill!" Sonyx screeched, jumping back and touching off her propulsion units as she returned shots. Blindly, she flew out of the broken pane she had entered and transformed back to jet mode, streaking upward, back into the night sky.
"Firestar, check on Moonracer! Sunsnare, have Sky Patrol sweep the area for any more Decepticons." Elita-One sheathed her pistol and knelt next to the phased blue male. "Apollo, are you all right?"
"I'll manage..." Apollo nodded somewhat, wincing. "Still trying to shake off the affects of her null ray." His expression suddenly turned to panic. "Elita, she was looking for Artemis!"
"Probably looking to ace her for defecting, no doubt," Firestar retorted.
"I heard her..." Moonracer stood with the aid of her old friend and the slight Sky Patrol femme. "Sonyx, her name was....I heard her call Art her 'personal nemesis.' I don't think she's one of Galvatron's..."
"Does it matter what kind of Decepticon marked my sis?" Apollo stood sluggishly. "They took her once from us; I'm not gonna let them take her again!"
"Agreed," Elita-One nodded, turning to regard Moonracer. "Radio both Cybertron command and Autobot City of what happened."
"Will do!" the green Autobot femme saluted as she stood gingerly with Firestar's help.
"Apollo, when you're up to it, I need you to find out all the information you can on this Vengeance Posse. If we are indeed dealing with another Decepticon faction, we need to know details."
The light blue male snorted.
"Does it matter what faction? All Decepticons are the same."
"They don't think the same," Firestar stated bluntly. "Even Galvatron thinks differently than he did as Megatron."
"Needless to say, the four of them managed to do this much damage to our base, with at least six Autobots in the infirmary," Elita-One added. "We need to be more prepared. We may have Cybertron back, but the threat of Decepticon attack is still apparent, as proven by this so-called Vengeance Posse."
"Three of them," Firestar corrected. "We have one of them in custody right now, awaiting questioning."
"Something tells me this is more than a simple raid," Elita shook her head. "We're going to need some first party interrogation."
***
Portland Area General Health Center
Portland, Oregon
Earth
Luke opened his eyes somewhat, wincing at the blinding sunlight streaming through the open curtains. With a curse, he brought his hand to his head, only to touch clean bandages.
What had happened? He couldn't remember!
He tried to recall the last thing he did...bring soup to Mrs. Gorden...Archie fingering him out to the cops, then--
nothing. Waking up here with a dull headache.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone there?"
His voice echoing off the sterile off-white walls of the room eerily was the only reply.
"Shit..." he leaned back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. "What the hell happened?"
"An accident," a disembodied voice answered matter-of-factly, an unearthy tone with an electronic reverb underlying like fingernails dragged against a chalk-board. "You and the Autobot you highjacked were wounded, though I believe she's worse off than you."
"Who's there?" Luke demanded, bolting into a sitting position, groaning at the sudden wave of nauesua overwhelming him.
"Interesting you should ask that, being such that humans shouldn't be able to hear me." A bright speck of light appeared at the foot of the hospital bed, bobbing ever-so-slightly. "In fact, most of my own race cannot either. Who I am isn't what is relevant right now, human, but to humour you...I am Air Commander Starscream of the Decepticon Battle Fleet."
"But you're--"
"Dead? How perspective you are. Yes, I am, how shall you say, corpereally challenged. But that's not the fact of the matter. How can you hear me?"
"I...I don't know...I just can..." Luke's breath came in shallow gasps. "Cav...is Cavalier all right?"
"Frankly, I don't really care. What I do, however, is how you were able to control her and Ultra Magnus in the manner that you did."
"Why should I tell you anything? Last I heard, you were one of the bad guys."
"Bad guys, good guys, it's all on your point of view. How did you control them? I will not ask you again, and my patience is running thin."
"And what are you going to do to me if I don't? Haunt me? You spooked me once, Mister Air Commander. You're not gonna do it again."
The ball of light truly seemed agitated as it zoomed towards Luke, halting suddenly mere millimeters from his face.
"You DARE mock me?" the spectre screeched, causing the human to wince.
"I don't know, okay? I just do it. I've always been able to do it, okay? Stop yelling at me!" Luke swatted angrily at the orb. "Leave me alone! Why don't you go back to that black GTO you were hovering around earlier. She doesn't seem to mind your company." He turned to his side, burying his head into the pillow. "Don't know how, though. I'm suprised you managed to stay alive as long as you did."
"You insult me, human. I have destroyed other sentients for less than that."
"Idle threats. You can't do anything to me. Go away."
There was a strange silence. For the most part of it, Luke truly believed the ghost had finally left.
"Listen...er...Luke..." His visitor's tone dropped, less hysterical, more manipulative. "From what I understand, you are in some serious trouble with human law. I may be able to clear your name...but only if you do a service for me."
"I could clear myself if I wanted too...but I try to be an honest kid. Not interested."
"Not interested in what?"
The sudden interruption of the female voice jarred Luke's consciousness. He turned slowly to face the mousy-haired human leaning up against the door jamb, staring down at his shocked expression. Though she wore a denim jacket over worn jeans and a Hard Rock Cafe New York tee-shirt, a PD badge peaked under the jacket from her belt.
"Talkin' to myself," he slurred somewhat, rolling back to his side, away from the cop.
"That's nice. Well, if you're talking to yourself, I'm guessing you're up to talking to me. Zoe Sommers, detective, 3rd Class. You're in a lot of trouble, mister, not only with the police, but with EDC. Normally, I would have to read you Miranda, but seeing that you broke EDC regs as well with the highjacking and ultimately kidnapping of an extra-terrestrial sentient, it's better to talk than to remain silent."
"What exactly did Archie pin me for?" he then questioned.
"Trafficking crack cocaine. We've run your clothing and belongings for any traces of drugs, as well as questioned your peers in Hell's Pantry. We arrested Archie Stevens on account of possession and intent to sell class A narcotics. You are cleared of those charges. But evading police, highjacking and kidnapping, and endangerment of another sentient...we also found nearly two-hundred dollars in your knapsack, as well as a palm-puter and datajacks...hacking equiptment. A little pricy to be in the possession of a homeless kid. You're in trouble, Mr. MacArin. I want some answers in a hurry."
"My comp and my jacks are for business," he whimpered. "I try making an honest living sending secured files from one firm to another. As far as I know, the method I was using was perfectly legal. I am a self-taught computer programmer...I learned on old 286s and Mac Classics in the basement of the public library when I was six and went from there. But no one wants to hire anyone permanently some kid from the slums."
"Cute story. Mind if I contact some of your 'clients?'"
"Go right ahead. There's a contact list on my comp. I use public phone lines to contact, and am authorised to use company accounts for their business purposes only."
"Sounds like you've been down this avenue before," Detective Sommers crossed her arms over her chest.
"I blame everything on the fact that I had no parental supervision after the first five years of my life."
"Oh, a smart mouth," the brown-haired woman pushed a lock out of her face, her dark eyes narrowing. "That excuse might have worked for you three years ago, Mister MacArin. But you're an adult, and will be tried as an adult. Now, there must be a reason why you ran, rather than face the music if you were indeed clean."
"You don't differenciate between one homeless person from another," he grumbled. "It wouldn't matter if it was Archie or me or one of the other people in the Pantry...as long as at least one of us took the fall. I ran because, guilty or innocent, I was going down anyway. And I'm sorry for dragging Cavalier into this mess...had I known she was Autobot before hotwiring her, I wouldn't have done it..."
"Hindsight's always 20/20, kid," Detective Sommers retorted. "As soon as the doctors give you an okay to be moved, you're coming down to the station for more questioning."
"Fine by me. Just tell me one more thing...is Jackie all right?"
"Jackie?"
"Archie's girlfriend."
"She's been brought in as an accomplice. She's being held at a woman's facility until she's due. The child will probably be put up for adoption, and she'll be heading to Oregon State Correction for five years."
"Figured such," Luke sighed. "At least the kid's gonna have a better chance."
"Yeah, you could say that. Get some rest, kid. You're gonna have a long couple of days after you pull through this."
Luke did not respond as the detective exited the room, exchanging some indistinct words with two guards outside.
"Something's going to happen," he whispered to more himself than anyone else. "I know it."
"I do not understand human law," the ghost piped up, almost seemingly genuinely curious. "Why are they delaying punishment?"
"Because they have to go to trial, present evidence, witnesses, so they know it was the right person...and they'll probably try getting me on trafficking, and knowing my luck, I'm gonna be appointed a lawyer who wouldn't know Fifth Amendment Double Jeopardy from a category on the game show. Why would you care?"
"Curious, that's all. Such a primitive race, you humans. Even the Autobots have swifter justice procedures."
"Must be nice. Me? I'm gonna end up in some lock-up, forgotten."
"A waste of your talents."
"And why would you be so concerned over a primitive human, Mr. Air Commander?"
"Let us just say that I too sense a wind of...opportunity.... Perhaps we could reach a mutual deal ... ?"
"Maybe after I figure out a way to get my ass legally out of trouble." With a grumble, he pulled the sheet over his chin. "And find a way to make it up to Cav...."
The spectre bobbed a couple of times.
"Feh. Sentiment," he scoffed, before dispersing.
***
10 miles outside Portland
Off Interstate 5
Dust kicked up from behind orange and black Plymouth Roadrunner as it roared over the deserted highway at ninty miles per hour.
Yep...it was good to be home, the female thought, running a hand through her wavy blond hair, teased at the top in a fashion that was twenty years out of date.
Not that she cared.
Deftly, she switched tapes in her radio, replacing Rob Zombie with something a little more British. A stereophonic test pattern sounded--you don't hear those much these days, she thought with a smirk--and immediately, "Exciter" by Judas Priest launched off in a powerful drum beat, vibrating the leather interior of the classic car in combination to the suped-up engine underneath the hood.
She had been off-world far too long. So what it wasn't truly her Earth? At least she had a musclecar, her music, and her sense of freedom from most responsibilities she had back--
Christ. It was so long ago. Her former life seemed like a faded dream. She had been a CEO for a scientific corporation based in New York City during the late 21st century, partners with her husband--Dan? Don? Why couldn't she remember? They had developed a temporal observation window--a time slip--which one day backfired, sending her through not only time, but space as well, landing her in an alternate earth.
She remembered the date. 1707. Scotland. Not a good year for her beloved homeland, but she picked up sword and shield and faced the inevitable.
The English saw her as a witch that refused to die. Indeed she wasn't going to grant them the satisfaction.
Must have had to do with the Sidhe side of her family.
Shaking the thought from her head, she downshifted, noting the stop light ahead.
Life's full of traffic lights, she chuckled out loud as she rolled to the white line. Looking in her rear view mirror, she noted she had incoming.
A large black car, the body style was a couple years older than her Roadrunner and very Pontiac. Could have been a LeMans or Tempest, perhaps a Goat. She couldn't tell from the distance.
She stared straight ahead, waiting for the light to change. It was only her and the Pontiac on the road.
"Fuckin' sensors must be messed up," she grumbled, noticing a flashing light on her dash. She pushed a toggleswitch, revealing a screen just under her radio. A digital readout announced an uplink being established. Time to connection, three minutes.
"Enough time," she smirked as the other car--definitely a hardtop GTO, minus the hood tach--pulled up next to her, idling. Suddenly, it's engine roared out twice.
A challenge.
"Yep. Plenty of time." She revved up the Roadrunner's engine twice--accepting--and turned down the radio on her way to the shift stick. Her eyes focused on the light, she moved her foot from the brake to the gas, keeping her left on the clutch. Over in the other car, she heard the telltale beginning rift of Metallica's "I Disappear."
"Christ, if you're gonna drag to Metallica, you play 'Motorbreath,'" she grumbled, just as the light switched to green.
Popping the clutch as she shifted into first, her Roadrunner screamed bestially, lifting the front end as it poured friction smoke from its super-wide tires. The Goat did a similar feat as both cars fishtailed for control, leaving blackened tarmac in their wake.
Neck and neck, both cars similtaniously shifted into second, and so on, until the Goat gave an extra burst of gas, the front end lurching upward slightly as it pulled out in front.
"Oh, you little bitch," the human shook her head, flipping up a switch cover and hitting the nitrus pack. "You're crafty, but I'm a bit nastier."
The Mopar-built musclecar shot forward, the spedometer needle shaking around a buck-twenty.
Again, the GTO pulled up closer and closer to the nose.
"Bitch!" she cursed as her pack ran dry, the needle sinking around ninty, just as the screen flashed once more. With another sour curse, the woman downshifted once more, pulling off to the side of the road and turned on her hazards. "Son of a BITCH!"
The Goat too slowed down, veering into the breakdown lane. Its reverse lights snapped on, slowly bridging the gap between the two cars.
"Next time, I swear," she cursed, pressing a touchpad on her console above her e-brake. "What's up, Drez?"
The screen blinked, revealing a digital image of a large, lupine creature with a scar running the longitude of his peppered-grey face.
"Hey, Minnie. We've got a couple of situations in your neck of the woods we need you to handle."
"Oh, wonderful," she rolled her eyes. "And on my vacation, too."
"Nice try. You work for the Guild, your vacations' are on company time."
"Don't need to remind me, Drez."
Out of the corner of her eye, Minnie noticed the Goat shift into a tall female robot, though seemed totally unphased by the transformation. Instead, she returned her attention to the lupine.
"So what's the situations?"
"First one: we got a tip from two Nebulon headhunters that they're looking for a human on Earth. They were looking for hiring out; I told them I had one of my employees down there already, and I would get as much information as possible. I'm downloading the stuff I do have on this kid; it's up to you to get what else you need. I don't like dealing with Nebulons, Minnie. Them and Rokkans. If they want this human so bad, we should get a hold of him before they do."
"Piece of cake," Minnie agreed, turning on the splitscreen so she could watch the download's progress. "What's the other?"
"You find Arty yet?"
The woman threw her head back and laughed.
"The bitch just outdragged my ass!" she chuckled.
"Who're you calling a bitch?" A large, gunmetal finger poked Minnie in the back of her head through the open driver's side window. "You know damn well those nitrus packs are only good for a couple of clicks." The black Transformer kneeled down to peer into the car. "Hey, Drez! Long time no see, old wolf!"
"Artemis, thank the Howl you're all right!" Drez's maw broke into a wide grin. "We were afraid Galvatron got you. Ritterkruez let Minnie know you were all right, but we wanted to make certain. Whatever you do, girl, watch your back. Scourge has been in here like clockwork looking for you."
"Scourge?" The black femme grimaced. "What the hell does he want?"
"Probably just keeping tabs on you for Galvatron," Minnie stated bluntly.
"Anyway, Minnie, you have your assignment. Artemis, it's good to know you're still functioning. Whenever you're ready to come back to us, I've got some new clients just dying to meet you."
"Thanks, Drez, but I'm staying low for a while. I'll let Minnie know where I've been hiding out, though, if you need me."
"You know me, sweetheart...ol' Drez takes care of his girls. Listen, I gotta go yell at the busboy. Drez out."
The screen blipped off.
"Your assignment?" Artemis then asked the human.
"Yeah. Ever heard of the Nebulons?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Nasty blokes. Planet's been in a civil war for eons. And apparently, they've marked a human as a target. Funny...I never thought them to give humans a second glance." Minnie checked her time. "I'm gonna need to get to a mainframe to do more research."
"Follow me," Artemis stepped back, falling back into her vehicle mode and turning over the engine.
"I tend to do that a lot, now, don't I, Arty?" Minnie laughed, shifting out of nuetral and rolling after the black Goat.
"Don't call me Arty," the Transformer's voice crackled over the CB in the Roadrunner.
"Sorry..."
Cavalier stared out towards the west through the three-sixty view of the communications tower with a hefty sigh. She had pretty much been blaring a song on every piece of CD, vinyl, DAT, or cassette she could get her fingers on. At that moment, she had Bloodhound Gang's "The Inevitible Return of the Great White Dope" cranking on the internal speakers. Her left arm hung in a sling close to her chest, useless.
"How're you feeling?" Rewind questioned, attempting to strike up conversation. Blaster had vacated for a bit for a powwow down in the War Room; he and Eject were keeping Cavalier company while she moped.
"I feel like slag warmed over," she grumbled, taking the CD out and placing it back into it's case. "Got any Styx?"
"Styx?" Eject interjected.
"Yeah. I'm in the mood for Kilroy Was Here."
"You went from Hurray For Boobies to Kilroy Was Here. And I thought Blaster was bad," Rewind chuckled, handing her the vinyl record. "Did you know that we have almost every genre of Terran music up here, from tribal beat to speed metal--"
"There's a difference?" Eject retorted, watching intently the playoffs between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees.
"Gah...I don't feel like Styx anymore...Farflung...I wanna listen to Farflung."
"A little moody when you're cranky?" Eject questioned.
"Oh, shut up. I'd curse you, but the Sox cursed enough to torture you as it is."
"Striking a little below the belt, Cav."
"I know I am. Where the hell's Farflung?"
"Autobot City, this is Skyfire, requesting clearance to land, over."
"It's about friggin' time!" Cav whooped, switching on the comm link. "Hey, Ultra Magnus, Skyfire's coming in requesting clearance to land!"
"Request granted. Inform him Wreck-Gar and First Aid will meet him out on the launch pad."
"Will do!" She flipped the switch. "Skyfire, this is Autobot City. Request granted. Wreck-Gar and First Aid will meet you out on the launch pad, over."
"Cav, me gal, can't ye stay out of trouble for five clicks?" Another voice called out.
"Zodiac!" She laughed, her optics brightening as she bolted out of the communication tower.
"At last! Peace!" Eject sighed. "No more tribal chants!"
"Um...that was Bloodhound Gang," Rewind stated.
"Same difference. Oh! Nomar's up to bat!"
"Did you know that Nomar Garciaparra's first name was deprised from Ramone spelled backwards?"
"Who cares? As long as he and Pedro gets the Sox to the pennant, I don't."
The white and black Autobot joined the small group of bystanders gathered
to watch the transport land. Even Wheelie and Daniel, who were both perched
atop Sludge's head.
No matter what, it always seemed that there was always new energy bound up when a shuttle or transport came in from home.
Especially, in Cavalier's case, bringing not only supplies to fix her up, but old friends as well.
And, as she embraced Stormrave and Zodiac happily, she did not realise that there was one other who was going to meet up with an old friend, but this one bore old wounds.
Skyfire, once the supplies had been unloaded and transported inside to the medlab, transformed, observing his surroundings. He hadn't been back to Earth since he was dug out of the avalanche ten Earth years ago. Wandering the known quadrent, he ended up on Cybertron a stellar cycle ago. It gave him time to think before rejoining the Autobots.
And speaking of which, his optics followed two large cars, one black and orange, the other Starlight Black, enter Autobot City, his face brightened.
"Artemis?"
Minnie eased her Roadrunner to a full stop, allowing the engine to idle for
about ten seconds before turning off the ignition. For a brief second, as
she stepped out of her musclecar, taking her dataport by the strap, she realised
it was probably the only non-Cybertronian-built vehicle in Autobot City.
"So, the 'Bots treating you as good as we did?" she questioned the black femme, who standing with a hip shot and her arms crossed over her chest.
"As good as one can expect," Artemis stated bluntly. "I don't blame them that they don't want to trust me. It may be better that way..."
"Art, you're trustworthy," Minnie retorted. "You don't betray your friends."
"In your eyes, maybe, Minerva," the black transformer shook her head, turning towards the inner courtyard. "The Autobots have different requistites for trust."
"Again, why don't you just come back to Four Winds?"
"I'm not gonna risk you guys if Galvatron comes looking for me there," Artemis shook her head. "The Autobots can handle Galvatron and his minions."
"But not the other Decepticons?" Minnie grinned.
"I'd rather not talk about it here," her companion hissed.
"That bad?"
"First code of mercking, Minnie..."
"Mouth shut, I know. But I like conversation."
"Then we can talk about this in private sometime."
"Everything's private with you," Minnie punched lightly at Artemis's calf. "Of course, we all have to have some secrets to keep..."
The Transformer's optics dimmed somewhat.
"Secrets indeed," she nodded ruefully.
"Artemis!" Kup called out, emerging from the monitor room. "Just the lass I'm looking for...who's your friend?" He nodded towards Minnie.
Before Artemis could answer, the human pulled out a badge from her jacket and flashed it at the old warrior.
"Captain Minerva Ryder of the Earth Defense Core, Extraterrestrial Foreign Affairs division. I recieved a report on a young man who managed to highjack an Autobot." She flipped closed the badge and pocketed it. "We have reason to believe he might be in danger from a sentient race not affiliated with the EDC and Intragalactic Alliance."
Artemis glanced down at her human friend, not betraying her surprise one bit.
"By our regulations, we have to talk to the non-human party prior to discussing anything with Earth-based law officials."
"By all means," Kup agreed with a short nod. "We're just as bent on getting to the bottom of this as the humans."
"Thank you. The more cooperation, the faster we can get this case solved." Swiftly, Minnie pulled out a steno notebook and an ink pen. "Would it be possible to gather all those involved in this incident?"
"The person you want to talk to first would be Rodimus," the elder retorted. "Cav's pretty banged up from the accident; she's right now in the med lab."
"It's a start, then," the human nodded.
"I'd escort you down to the War room, but we've got another crisis we have to handle at the moment."
"I'm sure that Artemis could--"
"This involves her," Kup interjected with an unreadable glance towards the gloss black femme.
Artemis blinked, now showing her surprise.
"What did I do now?" she demanded.
"It's not what you did, lass," Kup took a hold of a passing Autobot's arm, that being Jazz. "Better take Captain Ryder to see Prime...she's conducting an investigation for the EDC dealing with what happened today."
"Will do, man!" Jazz saluted with a pizazz only he could accomplish.
"I'll meet back up with you later, Art," Miinie interjected. "We can catch up on old times."
"Sounds like a plan," the black Transformer nodded, returning her attention to Kup.
"Okay, what's going on?" she then demanded.
"We just got a report from Cybertron...there was an attack," Kup replied, leading Artemis into the security room. "A small one. No casualities, but...Elita-One was concerned. Apparently, their leader asked for you by name."
"Really?" Artemis fell into one of the chairs, propping one leg up and draping an arm over the knee. "Do they know who it was? I know for a fact Scourge has been haunting my old hangout for me...."
"She says they have reason to believe it wasn't under Galvatron 's orders. Ever heard of a Seeker named Sonyx?"
Artemis stared at her old friend blankly.
"I'm sorry..." she shook her head, "but for a click there, I thought you said Sonyx."
"I did."
"Slot." Grimacing, her head bowed with another shake. "I was hoping she would have been killed by now. I should have done the universe a favour and done it myself when I had the chance."
"So you do know her."
"Too well."
There was an uneasy silence.
"Well, lass?"
"Well, what? She's a lunatic, though not as bad as Galvatron. In fact, she's not too fond of him at all. Why she's attacking the Autobots and not him is beyond me."
"Why would she attack Galvatron?"
"He killed their leader," she stated simply. "That's why she and her buddies call themselves Vengeance Posse. Actually, I'm surprised they attacked at all. Normally, they're too drunk to do anything requiring thinking." With a snort, Artemis added, "they probably got lost on their way to Charr and stopped to ask for directions."
"So what exactly are you saying?"
"Well, their unoffical motto's 'Dangerous drunk, dangerous sober.' And they are, but in an annoying sort of way."
"So why would she ask for you specifically?"
"I...really don't want to get into it."
"Artemis...."
"It's a really stupid thing..."
"Artemis..."
"Five million stellar cycles ago, I walked out of Brainstorms with her date for the night."
Kup only stared at the starlight black Autobot before him.
"Tell me you're not serious."
"Old man, if I was joking, you'd know it. I told you it was stupid."
"She wants to kill you because you stole her date."
"Right."
Kup blinked a couple of times, then finally shook his head.
"So this was probably a random attack after all."
"Perhaps. Sonyx isn't known for her planning stradegies."
"They have one of her lackeys in custody, needless to say. Elita wants you present when they question him."
"Because of my connection with the Decepticons?" she asked.
"Partially. She didn't go into details. I told her I'd talk to you first, if you're up to doing some travelling."
"I really wasn't looking forward to returning to Cybertron just yet," she stated bluntly, rotating her left shoulder. True, it was still a bit sore since her "accident," and technically, she wasn't supposed to be transforming as quick as she did, but if there was one thing she didn't do, it was tacking anything easy. "But if Elita's wanting some answers, they're porobably the ones I want to. Sonyx is nothing but an annoyance, but a dangerous one when provoked."
"then let me run it by Rodimus, and you can return with Skyfire--"
"Skyfire?!" Her voice took an edge of shock. "But I thought--"
"He's one of us now. Prime and the others found him about 20 years ago buried under about a mile of ice."
That's not true, she thought inwardly. Starscream found him. She was the one he went to after Skyfire defected, only to return to the glacial prison to save his new friends.
However, she did not voice this aloud. It wasn't needed. Perhaps that's what Kup had heard word of mouth. After all, he was on the Autobot colony of Cygnus IV at the time.
Skyfire since then must have been able to escape his confines between then and now, she concluded. It didn't matter now. What mattered was that Skyfire was alive.
An old, dear friend.
"And he's now here?" she demanded, betraying her excitement.
"Well, yes. He brought Zodiac and Stormrave with the supplies. You knew him, I take it."
"Of course! He was a dear friend of mine...talk about an extreme bad news/good news day." She snapped her fingers. "What about the situation of the virus? It's been pretty quiet since it first came to light...any break-through yet?"
"You're going to have to talk to Perceptor and Spike about that, lass. Why did you bring that up?"
"I was thinking afterwards I could dig up some information on the Quintesson whereabouts, seeing that apparently, that's a looming threat. Autobot or Decepticon, I still have my connections. I can find out information that anyone else would have an easier time counting the teeth in a Sharkticon."
"You've been hanging around me too long with an analogy like that," Kup shook his head with a small grin. "Okay. Let me talk to Rodimus. However, you will be getting an 'escort,' just to warn you."
"As long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't get in my way, I'm cool with that."
"As long as we're seeing optic to optic...now, for another concern, one that's been bugging me for some time. Now lass, I've known you for a long time, and I wouldn't say anything if I wasn't worried about you...."
"Then spit it out, Kup," Artemis ordered. "I don't like beating around the bush."
"I've noticed you've been talking to yourself lately. Shooting nasty looks at inanimate objects."
Her expression metamorphed quickly into denial.
"Reminds me of a bit of post-war trauma," the old soldier continued. "I thought you didn't fight the battles, but I suppose it could happen to anyone."
Yeah," she sighed forcefully. "Dead ghosts, I suppose."
She heard a snort behind and to the left of her. Fighting the urge to shoot an icy glare to the source of the mock, she met Kup's gaze.
"Just a recommendation, Artemis...perhaps you should get that checked out while you're up home. Might give you some piece of mind, especially with what happened the last few weeks."
She blinked, then laughed unexpectedly, ignoring for the moment the chuckle behind her.
"Old man, I am probably beyond 'piece of mind!' You got to see the front line; I saw what happened in the background, ignored by the public. 'Piece of mind' is the last thing that concerns me, especially when I'm too busy concerning over Galvatron and his minions as well as Quintessons, and the bit earlier today. If you haven't guessed, Minerva and I go a little ways back. If something is so serious to get her involved, then it is a reason to be concerned."
"Artemis, calm down," Kup ordered. "I know you've a bit unnerved--we all are. You're trying to take the universe's problems and make them your own. Why don't we just take what is most immediate and concentrate on that."
Artemis shut her optics, exhaling.
"Not to sound like a deathspeaker," she retorted, "but doesn't everything these days seem to carry the air of urgency?"
Kup chuckled solemnly.
"I'll talk to Rod about going to Cybertron and about digging up the information. Why don't you return to quarters to rest up?"
Rest up. In other words, go somewhere where you can't cause any trouble.
"Sounds like a plan to me, old timer," she nodded, standing. Stretching her arms over her head briefly, she winced as slight pain arched in her left shoulder. Rotating it easily, she then strided out with an unreadable expression but a somewhat proud stride up to her quarters on the fourth level.
Entering the lift, she pressed the glyph to the level, then struck a bit of a hipshot, her finger tapping her jawline in thought.
"You're scheming something, Arty," the disembodied voice hissed by her auditory sensor.
"That I am," she retorted, her voice low. "What did you find out?"
"Quite a bit, actually. That flesh creature can not only see but hear me as well. We had a somewhat pleasant conversation...though he tends not to know who to show respect for."
"A pity," she added, deadpan, though the spectre did not pick up on her sarcasm, or, if he did, did not acknowledge it.
"Indeed, but something tells me that isn't what is on your mind at the present."
"Skyfire's here," she interjected softly.
Starscream remained unusually quiet.
Finally, he broke the silence as the lift's doors opened to the fourth level.
"Forget about him, Artemis," he ordered sharply. "He would betray you if you let him know of your plans."
She glanced over her shoulder momentarily, then tapped in her key sequence to the door's lock pad in front of her. Upon entering the quarters, she quickly closed the door, locked it, then, nonchalantly, pulled a little device from a storage compartment on her arm and tapped a button on its face, setting it by the door.
"What's that?"
"A dampener," she answered, a bit proudly. "No one but me can hear you, but they can hear me. Kup already knows I talk to myself; I don't need anyone else breathing down my neck about it."
"Why not get rid of him?"
"A potent ally. It would be a waste. He has experience I lack." Artemis sank into an armchair, her legs stretched out in front of her, her arms draped to either side. "Now, back to Skyfire..."
"I wouldn't trust him," Starscream snapped. "He betrayed me to side with the Autobots."
"Needless to say, he was our friend. If he sided with the Autobots, then he must have some hold still of that concept." She gave a small smirk. "You're still hanging around me."
"There's a benefitual reason for that, need I remind you."
Starscream willed himself visible, leaning forward to meet her gaze solidly. Though his form was translucent, his ruby optics seemed very much solid.
"I am not prepared to take on Galvatron, Flyboy, you know that."
"No, of course not."
"Skyfire might be the key if I can convince him..."
"Elaborate." His voice was stern, commanding. "I've told you he would be untrustworthy. I want to know why you would think otherwise."
"He's an Autobot. He hates Decepticons. My plan is against Galvatron and his minions. They are Decepticons." She sat up, crossing her leg over her knee and wrapping her hands around the arms of the chair loosely. "I tell him some selective truths, play on his responses, and we shall see what he does from there."
The spectre broth his face closer, till his nose was mere inches from her's.
"In other words--"
"I mention nothing of our scheme until he proves himself." Her smirk broke into a wide, seductive smile. "If things get a little heated, I have other tricks up my gauntlet."
"Hmph." She felt a slight pressure on her wrists--glancing quickly out of the corner of her optic, she saw that his translucent hands clasped around them as though he had her pinned. She shifted her gaze back up to his optics. "And if you find that I was right, and he turns on you, betraying your intentions to the Autobots?"
"It won't happen," she retorted, her optics hooded. "I will make sure of that."
"Would you be prepared to destroy him if necessary?"
"I won't need to either way. Don't worry about a thing, Flyboy."
"I don't want to lose this chance, Artemis."
"I know you don't. That's why I won't fail you."
"No...of course you won't."
For the moment, Artemis forgot. She wanted to forget, everything that had transpired during the past three stellar cycles, longed to be back at the back table of Four Winds passing the time away enjoying the company of her flyboys--this one especially--not fearing for her life and spark.
Only the moment existed, as though nothing had happened between them.
The gap between them closed--
--and suddenly, Starscream's semi-coherent grip fell through her wrists, the chair arm. His entire ethereal form plunged downward as he took up a rather unusual look of surprise, phasing through the starlight black Transformer.
Artemis jumped, now crouching on the chair with her posteriour sitting on the back of the chair, her own optics wide as her hand rested on her chestplate.
"Dammit," she breathed, shaking her head. She quickly glanced around, still intaking air shallowly, exhaling forcefully. "Flyboy? Are you--"
"If you ask me if I'm still functioning, I swear, Arty, I'll make your life one living hell you'll regret," he growled, rendering himself invisible. "Foolishness...how could I forget..."
"Wishful thinking, perhaps," Artemis sighed, relaxing somewhat as she leaned against her arm propped on one knee. "Dammit."
"Indeed..." he growled next to her auditory.
She sat silently, deep in thought, for a couple of cycles, jarred back to the present by a buzz at her door.
"Who is it?" she questioned, before realising her jamming field was still on. Deftly, she jumped from her seat and strided over to the door, turning off the mechanism on the table and returning it to her arm compartment. She then repeated her question.
"Artemis?" A voice she hadn't heard since before the War beckoned. "It's me...Skyfire...I was hoping we could talk...."
"Arty, I'm warning you--"
She shot Starscream's ghost an unreadable glance. "Please," she mouthed, "trust me...."
He condensed his form to a bright orb of light, bobbed a couple of times, then released a "feh" noise, before phasing from her perception.
"Thank you," she whispered to empty space, before unlocking and opening the door. Staring up at the taller Autobot before her for a full cycle, unsure what to express towards him.
"Artemis...I had heard you were still online..." Skyfire coughed, initiating conversation.
"As much as one could expect," she stated. "Though I heard otherwise about you."
"Yes...many of our old friends believed so as well," he glanced downward, seemingly saddened by his statement. "It is heartening to see that you have chosen to side with the Autobots in their time of need."
She bit down on her tongue as the disembodied chuckle echoed from the far corner of the room. For a brief click, she wanted to share in the cynical mirth Starscream was expressing, the irony of the situation at hand.
Though she decided to remain quiet on that comment, she only nodded somewhat. Skyfire had always been na?ve; being trapped under ice for longer than the Autobots and Decepticons who came to Earth were stasis-locked on board the Ark and the Nemesis probably didn't help matters.
"Indeed," she retorted instead, with a nod of her head. "It's good to surround oneself with old friends."
Another chuckle escaped the ghost as she internally wished for her old friend to go away. This conversation was getting nowhere; she hated small talk, as adept as she was with it.
"It is even more of a relief to know you are still alive!" Skyfire exclaimed suddenly, then coughed again. "I suppose you have heard about...you know...I don't know if you were still...seeing him...since we had departed...."
He was talking aobut Starscream. And he was getting uncomfortable with the subject. Good. That meant he was going to break conversation soon. Artemis gave a small smile. Let's speed up the pace.
"Oh, I had heard," she nodded again, letting her smile drop sadly. "A shame...waste of intelligence...an insult really. We can only hope Galvatron is overthrown by the other Decepticons soon...he is worse than Megatron, ten-fold, with his insanity, and the non-Minion 'Cons are restless with it. I would imagine a revolt sometime soon if they could get organized amongst themselves."
"We can only hope," the red and white Autobot agreed. "It would make our goal so much easier to obtain."
"Indeed it would. Skyfire, I'd hate to cut this conversation short, but I have some research to tend to. Perhaps when I head to Cybertron later, we can continue on this conversation." She made a move to close the door.
"Of course...Kup has already approached me with the situation. I shall see you later, then." With a nod and a smile, Skyfire exited to the turbolift.
Artemis watched him leave, breathing a sigh of relief.
"At last," she hissed. "Was he like that before he got buried under a kilotonne of ice?"
"Hmmm...manipulative, Arty," her dead companion muttered. "You learned well under my tutelege. Now, if you don't mind, share with me your grander scheme a little further--"
She held up a hand somewhat, signalling him to cut off. Furrowing her brow, she looked up and down the hallway.
"What is it, Arty?"
She shook her head, saying nothing.
There. There it was again. A slight scuttle in the vent next to her feet.
Swiftly, she slammed down to one knee, ripped open the vent cover, snatching at the creature within. Yanking it out by the neck, she pivoted sharply, throwing it into her quarters as she smacked her fist onto the door latch, closing her, the intruder, and the ghost into the room. Standing, she turned on the dampener once more, staring down at her quarry.
"Dammit, Arty, why the hell did you do that for?" the much smaller spy cassette demanded, uprighting himself in her chair.
"What are you doing here, Rumble?" she snarled, leaning forward to meat his glare.
"Trying to find out information how to cure the boss!" he snapped.
She nodded somewhat, snatching him by the neck again and lifting him into the air.
"Then why aren't you in the lab spying on Perceptor and Spike?" she demanded curtly.
"Because I overheard you and the geezer talking about the virus!"
"And what makes you think I know anything more about it than the average Transformer?"
"I needed to hang around you because you're the one getting off this rock soon!"
"Cut the slag, Rumble!" she snapped angrily. "What did you hear?"
"Hear what? You and the traitor--"
"Who are you loyal to?" Her tone was not leaving any room for error, the blue spy realised. She may be sporting an Autobot symbol, but nothing about her attitude had changed.
Especially when she unsheathed her handgun and pressed it to his temple.
"Rumble, I'm not in the mood....who are you loyal to?"
Rumble sensed something behind him. A very slight disadvantage, he realised. She had him in the air; his piledrivers were useless.
"To Soundwave!" he retorted hysterically. "Arty, come on...I won't report anything about the Autobots, just the virus...just let me go!"
"And who is Soundwave loyal to?" Her tone never changed.
"The Decepticons!"
"Not to Galvatron?" The spy hesitated. "Rumble, your uncertainty is not comforting."
"Galvatron's fault the boss is the way he is!" he rebuted sharply. "We only do what Galvie tells us because we'd end up slagged if we don't!"
Artemis glared at the cassette for a full cycle before throwing him back into the chair. Her handgun, on the other hand, remained ready in her hand.
"Think we can count on him?" She questioned aloud.
Swiftly, Rumble glanced behind him. Seeing no one, he returning his wide optics to the large black Autobot in front of him.
"Who are you talking to?" he demanded. "Arty, c'mon, me and Frenzy and the other guys never betrayed you...hell, a lot of the others liked you...never got slagged when you were around..."
"Rumble, quiet." She finally sheathed the weapon and crossed her arms over her chest. "He wouldn't dare use his piledrivers here. Too many Autobots in the area, and it's just him, right?" She seemed to wait for an answer.
"Frenzy and me's the only ones who didn't get slagged up with the stage two virus, and Frenzy's on Cybertron," Rumble retorted, only to realise she wasn't talking to him.
"Didn't think so. He's outnumbered, even now," Artemis continued. "So back to my initial question; you think we can count on him to deliver a message back?"
"Anything! Arty, I knew you wouldn't shoot any of us without good reason! I'll do anything...c'mon!"
"Rumble, quiet!" she repeated. "I'm not going to slag you. At least not if you comply to what me and Flyboy have in store for the Decepticons."
"What?" Rumble's fear morphed quickly into curiosity. "'Flyboy?' Starscream? He survived? How could he? We all saw him get incinerated--"
Her expression only deepened with a frown.
"He's dead, yes. Doesn't mean he's totally gone from the picture. Do you truly think Starscream would allow such injustice to keep him down from his grand scheme of things?"
"If you were anyone else, Arty, I would think you were nuts." With a heavy sigh, he nodded somewhat. "Fine. I accept the terms. What is it?"
"I'll get you the information on the virus we have already gathered in the meantime, in exchange for this one service and your loyalty to the Decepticons, not Galvatron and his mockeries."
Rumble stared up at her, surprised.
"But..." He seemed lost for words. "But...you're an Autobot."
"Let's not start this again. You know my loyalties, Rumble."
"I know better than to screw with you, Arty. Okay, what is it?"
She held out her arm and popped out a laser disk from a compartment, one with a purple Decepticon logo marring the surface.
"Get this to Thundercracker or Onslaught. No one else. If a Minion tries to get a hold of it, destroy it. I'll find another way to get to them. Starscream, make sure he does what he is told. If needed, possess him."
"Arty, you're really serious..." Rumble took the disk, staring at it in shock. "You really want Galvatron dead."
"You know damn well the answer to that," she growled. "And you know I will do whatever's in my power to get to that goal."
"You're....not serious about Starscream, though...are you?"
"I don't joke at a time like this, Rumble."
The spy suddenly felt something clutch his spark, like icy chards of metal. He gasped somewhat, optics wide in horror.
"That's enough, Flyboy. Don't want to scare him too much."
Instantly, the icy shards retracted, leaving again a frightened Rumble.
"I don't want to resort to that, Rumble. I really do like you guys; but this is a rather pressing matter, a gamble that I'm wagering my very spark on."
"Then I take it you're not here because you want to be an Autobot."
"It's called insurance, Rumble," she stated coldly. "The Autobots granted me asylum from Galvatron, leaving me free to work uninhibited my plans to avenge Starscream and get rid of the Unicronspawn once and for all."
Rumble blinked again, suddenly smiling.
"Well, gotta say that it's good to hear you're on our side," he chuckled. "I knew the Autobots couldn't corrupt you that easily."
There was a slight beep on her intercomm.
"Rumble, transform and hop on," she ordered, holding out her arm, the compartment still open. "I think I know what that call's about."
Rumble chuckled, leaping into the air and folding into his compact cassette mode, landing neatly into the compartment. With a flick, she closed the hatch and then turned off the dampener once more.
"Artemis here," she beckoned.
"Art, can you come to the War Room for a click?" Rodimus Prime's voice questioned. "We're finalising some plans and we're going to need your input."
"Be right up," she retorted.
"Great. Rodimus out."
"Fascinating," Starscream hissed into her auditory. "Exactly as planned. You were indeed a worthy protégé, Arty."
"Had a great teacher," she smirked, exiting her quarters.
"Belief Module - Part Four"
Minerva was there, typing away at her computer. Rodimus, Kup, and Ultra Magnus were there as well, staring up at the monitor the human was projecting to. Also present was the black-haired detective from the accident earlier.
"So what's the story?" Artemis questioned, propping herself on the table with one leg over the other at the knee, reclining with her hands behind her as she too looked up at the monitor.
"Which one you want to hear first?" Minerva questioned. "EDC findings or Portland PD findings?"
"Simplist one first, please," the black Autobot yawned somewhat. "I'm lacking imagination today."
Detective Lovecraft nodded. His jacket was slung over a human-sized chair, his arms crossed over his chest. Wiry, but with strong arms and wide shoulders, his tee shirt fit perfectly, even with the shoulder holsters. Not like Artemis cared, but she knew damn well Minerva was studying the other human like a textbook.
"The perp's ninteen-year-old Luke MacArin, a street kid who resides in Hell's Pantry, a homeless district with a lot of drug activity," Lovecraft explained. "He's been described by many as a quiet computer geek who tends to do anything he can for the older folks of the Pantry. We've managed to find out some information about his mother--an immigrant from Great Britain, Edinborough area--one Arin NicLennox. Not much is known about her, save that shortly after arriving to New York, she headed to the West Coast, gave birth to her son at Mercy Hospital in Los Angeles, never leaving the name of the father, and then moved up to Portland Area. Five years later, she disappeared. No trace of her at all."
"Why is this important to the situation?" Artemis demanded.
"Because it's what Mercy and Portland General had found in their records," Minerva stated. "Nate, if you may..."
"Both hospitals reported similar stats on the kid, medical phenomena that can't fully be explained by modern science."
"In other words, he's either a freak of nature or his old man was of extraterrestrial origin," Minerva retorted blatantly. "Nowadays, any interspecies quote-unquote 'partnerships' require reporting to the Intragalactic Alliance, especially if they produce offspring. However, back in the late eighties and early ninties, that wasn't a concern save for in the tabloids." The female began typing at her keyboard. The image on the monitor changed to a three-d projection of a basic human shape. "What we have here is mostly human. However, reports from both Mercy and Portland General stated that he had abnormally high levels of bioelectrical activity."
"So the kid's a spark plug," Artemis retorted.
"For starters. All humans have a bioelectrical charge, mostly in the nervous system, in the form of synapses travelling throughout their nueral nets. However, Luke MacArin has an over-abundance to the activity. If a normal human had a slight static shock, he'd be a lightning bolt. Not saying this kid's astropokinetic--"
"Say what?" Lovecraft demanded the other human.
"Sorry. Psi terminology for those who are able to channel and redirect their bioelectrical energy outwards. Anyway, the connection between this kid's energy levels and the fact that he's able to control and manipulate electrical systems may not be sheer coincidence." Minerva sighed heavily. "Which leads up to the Nebulons."
Artemis cocked her head, regarding her human friend with newly interested optics.
"Nebulons are almost similar to humans, save for some biological differences, including an organ located in the right frontal lobe of the brain, one that produces a strong bioelectrical current geared specifically to control electronic machinery. There's two factions, one who can control and one who can't; those who can are the Hive." The female shook her head. "They're nasty to deal with. My superiour officer doesn't want anything to do with them, but two Hive officials are looking for the boy."
"So what can we do?" Ultra Magnus stated. "We have a potentially dangerous human, attracting a another, more confirmed, danger. This may be out of the humans' jurisdictions."
"Excuse me," Lovecraft held up a hand. "What we have is a suspect resisting arrest. Until we can proscecute--"
"Detective Lovecraft," Minerva leaned forward, the low-swoop of her teeshirt showing off a hint of cleavage. "This is no longer a singular investigation. By my research, you have the initial suspect of trafficking crack cocaine, one Archie Stevens. All you have in custody is a frightened young man who may or may not be fully human, who had highjacked an Autobot to escape. He broke more EDC regulations than Portland, Oregon laws. And, by creed of the Intragalactic Alliance, this is now EDC jurisdiction. The young man shall be brought to the EDC Quarters on Sirius II, a neutral planet, where he will be granted asylum from the Hive Nebulons. If judged guilty by the IA's court of law, he will serve time with community service at the Kethry Correctional Facility on Sirius II with no off-planet privledges once his asylum leave is over. Since he is orphaned, with no family, this would be the better avenue to partake in the kid's best interests."
Lovecraft did not retort, but his narrowed eyes was the only indication of defeat.
"You're going to let the perp walk," he finally stated bluntly.
"Detective Lovecraft, this is no time to talk further on the discussion," Minerva snapped, almost angrily. "If we must continue this, then I will be happy to with both our supervisors present. If I didn't know any better, I would think that there was something personal between you and Mr. MacArin."
"You know, this isn't really any of our business," Rodimus stated, "but this isn't exactly the time or place to be arguing over this. Kup, why don't you take Detective Lovecraft and Captain Ryder up to the main gate? If either one of you have any more questions..."
"No, I have everything I need, thank you, Prime," Minerva nodded politely, closing her laptop.
"Nothing more today," Lovecraft grumbled,
"Rodimus is right," Ultra Magnus agreed as the humans were escorted up to ground level. "If these Nebulons possess the same power as this human, quite possibly even more so, then they could prove a menace to not only the Autobots but to all sentient races mechanoid and organic!"
"Stating the obvious for our viewers at home, eh, Magnus?" Artemis smirked. The large blue and white Autobot shot an angered glare that the black femme.
"We are facing a potential threat, one that you seem not too overly concerned about."
"Knock it off, you two," The red and yellow leader ordered.
"Stay out of this, kid," Artemis warned, though a smirk played across her face. "I think this goes beyond the situation at hand."
"Why don't I just let the two of you talk this out?" Rodimus then questioned rhetorically.
"I have no idea what you're leading to, Artemis," Ultra Magnus retorted coolly.
"Oh, I think you do, Magnus," she stressed.
"Just try not to kill each other?"
"Stay out of this, Rod," Artemis repeated. "This has been brewing for quite some time now."
"That much is obvious," Rodimus turned to leave. "Try not to break out in a fist fight over this, Art. You're not with Decepticons any more."
"Indeed," Ultra Magnus nodded. "Though I wouldn't expect anything less from her."
"Now you're aiming a little below the belt, Magnus," she chided mockingly as Rodimus took that as a queue to exit the War Room. As the doors closed, she spun around on the table, lying on her belly with her head propped up in her hands, kicking one leg back and forth slowly as she gazed up at Ultra Magnus's angry face.
"Oh, Magnus, just as touchy as ever," she cooed.
"Why are you doing this?" he leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "As far as I'm concerned, you left our lives three million stellar cycles ago."
"Oh, that," she rolled her optics. "So that's why you played dumb about me. You're embarrassed of me. Just because I wanted to get a little more out of life than entering slag into a database and directing communication connections."
"But why the Decepticons?" the transport's voice took a new tone, one of a quizzical nature.
She only shook her head, her smile dropping.
"You think in terms of black and white, Magnus," she commented softly, her ice blue optics wide as she stared up at him. "You wouldn't understand my reasonings if I explained each and every one to you."
"Try me." His tone grew an sharp edge. "What would make you leave your friends and family to join a bunch of cutthroats?"
"Because it was Autobots who made them these, as you so delicately put it, 'cutthroats.'" She sighed deeply, her optics now narrowing. "Perhaps inadvertantly, maybe on purpose...who knows." Crossing her arms on the table, she buried her face, now staring at the surface. "You wouldn't understand, Magnus. You wouldn't understand my reasonings, you wouldn't understand my dream, or my goal."
The large blue and white Autobot stared down at his once-friend, deciphering her words.
"And what is your goal?" he demanded, though the edge had dulled.
"Unite Cybertron." Her voice was muffled. "One people. Not one faction. Autobots and Decepticons alike, as well as the colonies...one Cybertron."
Magnus pulled out one of the chairs and sat, one arm crossed over his massive chest, the other resting his head, finger tapping his jaw slowly.
"You know," he stated softly, "you might have come across that a bit easier with the Autobots."
"And the Decepticons?" She lifted her head, a small smile on her face. "Would they have a better chance listening to an Autobot than another Decepticon on the matter? Magnus, I don't like the fighting any more than you do. That's why I went mercenary, so I didn't have to fight my friends on either side." She adverted her optics angrily. "Galvatron changed that. I threatened him just by my presence alone. He's mad, Magnus, and the other Decepticons are terrified of him. They don't follow him because they want to. He has the power to rule by terror. All the more reason why he needs to be stopped."
"What you're telling me is old news, Artemis."
"I know; I'm just telling you what I know." She pushed herself back up into a sitting position before sliding off the table and back on to her feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to be done."
"Artemis, wait." Ultra Magnus stood as well, taking hold of her arm. "You'll be returning to Cybertron on the next transport out. I'll accompany you--"
"Magnus, no." She gently pushed his hand away, crossing her arms over her chest. "The Artemis you knew is long gone. I have changed since the conflicts started on Cybertron. Nothing can bring back who I used to be. It's best to keep it as such." With a shake of her head and a sad smile, she gave a slight, almost forced chuckle. "Besides, you're much too stable for my tastes."
Bowing her head once more, she strided out without waiting for another word from Ultra Magnus.
***
Zodiac and First Aid were examining the post-op with Cavalier when Rodimus entered the medlab.
"How're you, Cav?" he asked sincerely.
She glanced up at him, her optics smiling brightly.
"A little sore, a bit numb, but I'll be racing your sorry tailpipe in no time!" she remarked cheerfully.
"Don't think so, me gal," Zodiac flicked a finger against her elongated audio sensor cover. "Ye's gonna take it easy for a couple o' weeks. And t' make sure, I'se gonna be campin' down here to keep yer arse outta trouble while my assistant Brits be takin' charge o' the Cybertron lab."
"Wonderful." Optics pouting, Cavalier glared at Zodiac. "You get to babysit me. Won't Stormer get jealous?"
Zodiac winced, dropping his medical scanner.
"What makes ye think they'se somethin' between that hotheaded flygal and me, ya shagger?" he demanded angrily.
As the two argued, First Aid ventured towards Rodimus.
"She'll be all right now," then Protectobot exclaimed softly. "Nothing more complex than a joint replacement. Though I was wondering, Rodimus, if I should return to Cybertron while Zodiac is here. There needn't be three of us here if we're needed on Cybertron."
"I'm not going to split up our gestalts, First Aid," Rodimus shook his head. "We'll concern ourselves over that before the next transport back." Playfully, he reached out and placed his hand on Cavalier's head, as a human would ruffle a friend's hair. "In the meantime, Cav, concentrate on getting healed up before issuing any challenges for races."
She laughed, ducking somewhat.
"Why? I could take you as is!" she exclaimed.
"Right," Zodiac biffed her good arm. "Ye goes ahead and think that, me gal...in the meantime, ye's gonna stay put."
"Looks like more time to pester Blaster," she sighed melodramatically. "Oh well."
"As much as I'd like to hang around you guys," Rodimus's smile fell somewhat. "I've got serious matters to attend to. After Zodiac gives you a clean bill of health, I'll take you up on your offer, Cav."
The white and black Autobot watched him leave as First Aid began cleaning up the OR.
"Slag, Zodiac," she hissed, her shoulders slumping. "I miss Hot Rod...."
"Nothin' we can do about it, me gal," he shook his head, helping her off the table. "Responsiblity comes to people in different ways...just a little sooner and a little more sudden for him."
"Yeah," she whispered softly. "I suppose so."
"Hey, Cav! Guppy!" The winged form of Stormrave ventured into the OR. "How'd the operation go? You didn't offline her, did you?"
"Stick it in yer afterburner, Pidge," Zodiac chortled. "She's gonna be fine, iffin we can keep her from zoomin' around at a million klicks a megacycle."
"Oh, goodie, a challenge!" the red and grey flier laughed. "For you, that is, Guppy. For me, I've got another assignment."
"Lucky you," Cavalier retorted deadpan. "I've gotta deal with this maniac alone?"
"Took the words right out of me mouth, ye shagger," Zodiac rifled back.
"Looks that way," Stormrave nodded. "Kup's detailed me to escort duty."
"Sucks to be you," the navy and maroon medic sniggered. "Who's the lucky bastard who has to deal with your wonderfully charming personality?"
"Artemis." Stormrave leaned up against the wall, crossing her arms over her canopy.
"The Decepticon?" Cavalier questioned rhetorically. "Primus, what did you do to piss Kup off so bad to get stuck with her?"
"Cav, enough," Zodiac warned. To the other femme, he then asked, "Why? I thought she was confined to the area."
"Elita-One has requested her presense back in Iacon when they interrogate the prisoner from the attack on Moonbase." The Sky Patrol captain shook her head somewhat. It was unclear what she was expressing at that moment. "Afterwards, Artemis has her own assignment, dealing with some information research and retrieval on some Quintesson activity as well as the Unicron Virus. I have to make sure she doesn't overstep her boundries."
"Shadow her," Cavalier nodded. "Well, Stormer, if anyone, you're the bot for the job."
"Yeah," the jet's head bobbed down somewhat, staring at the floor. "Cav, if you don't mind, I have to speak to Zodiac for a click."
"What's bothering you?" The white and black Autobot questioned, concerned.
"Please?"
"Cav, me gal," Zodiac tapped her shoulder, giving her a soft but firm gaze. "Please...Stormy needs some private time..."
Cavalier nodded, venturing broodingly out of the OR.
"Now," the medic took Stormrave's hand. "What's the problem?"
"I'm questioning Kup's judgement," she whispered. "Why send me?"
"Ever think he knows?" Zodiac queried.
"All the more reason not to assign me."
"Somethin' tells me, me gal, that he knows what he's doin'. He knows Art as much as anyone...if he didn't think ye could handle shadowin' her, he wouldn't have assigned ye the job, right?"
"That's...not what I'm concerned about."
"Then what is it? If it's about yer past...frig, Stormy, ye were never one o' them. Ye didn't even know the difference. Don't matter what ye built as, jus' as long as what's in here." He tapped the center of her canopy, over her spark compartment. "Ye's may be a crash, rude, arrogant little flygal who can't keep her feet on the ground for a megacycle, be ye's still Autobot. And..." he cleared his throat, stepping closer to kiss her softly on her lips, "...I loves ye for that."
She smiled somewhat, returning the gesture for five clicks before someone coughed from behind them.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," First Aid chuckled silently, "but Zodiac needs to get back to post-op."
"Oh, for the love of Primus," Zodiac rolled his optics as Stormrave ducked her head, almost seemingly ashamed. "First Aid, ye saw nothin', right, me son?"
"Not a thing," the Protectobot shook his head, optics smiling.
"Ye's the best. Now," he returned his attention to the red and grey flier, "get yer sorry afterburner outta me OR before I'se kick it into suborbit."
"You couldn't kick it if I gave you a free shot, Guppy," Stormrave pushed away from the wall as her cool demenor took over once more, pivoting on her heel to stride out of the OR.
"Yer momma was a Decepticon, ye energon guzzler!"
"Yer momma was a Junkion, slagsucker!"
Zodiac raced to the door, took hold of the jamb and leaned out, then stuck up his middle finger at her backside.
"BITE ME, YE METAL PIDGEON!" he shouted.
"You'd enjoy it too much, Guppion!" she called back.
"You two seem to enjoy being pains in each other's backsides," First Aid commented as Zodiac pulled himself back into the OR.
"I thought ye's didn't see anythin'," the navy and maroon medic narrowed his optics as he picked up his scanner he had dropped earlier.
"Absolutely nothing."
"Good."
"Art!"
The black femme halted en route to her quarters at the sound of her human friend's voice, turning her head somewhat as Minerva ran to catch up.
"Well, that was certainly interesting," she chuckled, burying her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Cute guy, too...great eyes...gorgeous arse..."
"I figured you'd be paying more attention to him than the situation," Artemis smirked somewhat. "So what's the scoop? I didn't know you and Drez were part of the EDC."
"Well," the blonde human whistled, taking long, easy strides. "We aren't. But--" she held up a finger, "--it's better for us to get a hand on this kid before the actual EDC and the IA does. At least within the four Guilds, he won't be harmed by any outside interferance, and no one would be able to hire any of the Guild members to ace him."
"I saw your point back off I-5, Minnie; you don't need to convince me," Artemis stated as they entered the turbolift, pressing the floor glyph. "How's your cover story working then?"
"Drez has a few internal bugs within both the higher-ups of both the EDC and the IA. They'll back up our story. As soon as I get a clean break with the kid, we'll rendezvous with the Shrike's Cry -- under the guise of a Sirian transport called Larksong -- at the Spaceport...all with legally validated documentation. Like WD-40." For emphasis, Minerva sliced the air in front of her. "How about you? You've got some sort of plan perculating..."
The lift stopped, admitting the two onto the floor.
"You know what's interesting, Minnie?" Artemis chortled somewhat. "Someone had asked me that two megacycles ago in that same lift." She tapped in her key to her quarters and made a gesture for the much smaller sentient to enter first.
"Hmmm...spacious...not like my first apartment in the Big Apple. That was a sewer...literally." The human walked about, studying the very sparse living arrangements. "I would have expected more trophies, knowing you."
"Trophies I wouldn't want to fall in the wrong hands," Artemis stated, turning on the dampener as the doors closed. "Especially the ones I've got to live with for the meantime. Rumble, out." She flipped open her compartment in her arm. The small cassette flew out and transformed in front of the human.
"Why, hello, Minnie!" Rumble greeted somewhat brightly. "Fancy meeting you in this dump!"
"Back off, Rumble, I don't want to catch what you've got." Minnie winked somewhat. "What are you doing here?"
"Need to cure the boss somehow. The 'Bots know nothing, not unusual." He looked back up at Artemis. "That was a dirty trick you pulled, sweetheart. Magnettically lined compartment..."
"Better safe than sorry, Rumble. Didn't affect your core processor, though, did it?"
"No," he grumbled. "Just my recording functions--wait. Something's weird. Computer, run virus scan."
As he did such, the black femme returned her attention to the human. "Minnie, I'll be heading to Cybertron shortly, and I have a chance--"
She stopped shortly, her optics narrowed somewhat.
"She's a member of the Guilds, Starscream," she retorted to an unheard question, at least to Minerva. "I can trust her. Anyway, we need the Four Winds as a central, neutral moot point."
Minerva arched an eyebrow.
"The ghosts talk to you too, eh?" she questioned bluntly. "Didn't think near-death experiences worked the same way for Cybertronians as it did for us flesh creatures."
"Apparently, it does...Starscream, at this point, we can use all the allies we can muster, regardless...yes, even the flesh creatures--oh, that's what this is all about? Jealous, are you? He means nothing--fine, can we talk about this later?"
"Domestic dispute with a dead guy. That's a first," Minerva chuckled as Rumble's optics widened in an epiphany.
"Art, your did something to the virus!" he exclaimed. "That magnetic field slowed it down!"
"What?" Both Minerva and Artemis demanded.
"When I first ran my virus scan--when the boss was infected with Stage Two--it was dormant within the back of my nueral processor. Two solar cycles ago, the virus had managed to infect some of my optic neural relays. I've had foggy and vision since. Arty, that field cleared up my vision. I ran another diagnostic...the virus is back at early Stage One!"
"Well, it seems we're making more process than the others," she stated bluntly. "All the more reason to get that information back to Soundwave."
"Not the Autobots?" Minerva questioned.
"The virus infected a human's laptop computer. At this point, it's expendable. Soundwave isn't." Artemis glanced back down at Rumble. "Consider that part of the trade. Too many questions would be asked if I told Perceptor. I can't afford to answer any more questions."
"Trade?" the human repeated.
"He's acting as courier for me, to get a message to Thundercracker."
"Ah..." Minerva nodded. "Hey, Screamer, gonna get your vengence in any way you can, eh?"
"The Air Commander's gone off sulking," the black femme stated with a smirk. "I think he's still a little sore about what Magnus said earlier."
"Oh? Does someone have a crush on the bad girl?" the human taunted.
"I would have thought me defecting would have gotten him out of that mindset," she shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, well."
"You cold-hearted bitch," Minerva laughed. "Nope, can't see you with anyone who doesn't have an ego the size of the known multiverse."
"Yeack." Rumble made a face. "Do I really have to stand here and listen to all this...yuck...girl talk?"
"Poor Rumble...no one to love you?" Minerva teased, looping her arm with his. "Y'know, I'm not picky...I take my men any way I can..."
Rumble reeled back as if he had touched a live wire.
"Gross! Minnie, get away from me, you sicko freak!" The spy cassette glared wearily at the other transformer in the room. "Arty, can we go now? The human's grossing me out!"
"Then why not slag her?" Artemis demanded deadpan, taking a dataport from a table near a terminal.
Rumble blinked, taken aback.
"Can I?"
"No, you can't!" Minerva protested brightly, taking his arm again. "How can you slag someone who thinks you're so sexy?"
Artemis shook her head as Rumble was, for once, lost for words, as he tried his hardest to retort.
"Rumble, how are you and Frenzy getting back to Charr?" she then asked.
"I'm supposed to meet him on Cybertron. From there, we're gonna use the space bridge to Charr."
"Galvatron's plan?" Artemis groaned.
Rumble chuckled nervously. "Yeah."
"Idiot. The space bridge was decommissioned..." Her optics narrowed. "But not disassembled. You think you and Frenzy could into Shockwave's tower and get it working long enough to link up to Charr?"
"Not a problem!"
"Without being detected?"
"Problem." Rumble shrugged. "I imagine the bridge is heavily guarded. Getting past it is no problem. Getting it operational, doable. Activating it will probably set off alarms left and right."
"Then I suppose you're going to have to think up a distraction--Starscream."
Rumble shied away, creeping around Minerva as though trying to hide.
"Hey, Flyboy, wanna do some damage to aide us in the grander scheme of true Decepticon hierarchy, my one true leader?"
"Yes, the way to a man's spark is through his ego," Minerva remarked, deadpan.
"At least I realise the superiour intelligence of the Air Commander. Megatron should have taken him more seriously. So, Flyboy, what do you say about creating a distraction so that Rumble and Frenzy can get the disk to Charr?"
"That is totally freaking me out," Rumble growled softly.
"Well, you can always play with the alert systems long enough--but of course you must have thought of it first..."
A smile formed on her face as she nodded somewhat.
"Then I will inform Drez of the situation when I return to Four Winds," Minerva nodded. "We'll have the back room cleared for you and the Merc Guild on alert."
"Who else is in your little coup?" Rumble demanded, pronouncing the word as "coop."
"Thundercracker, Onslaught, Starscream, of course, and myself." Artemis smiled warmly. "And now, you."
The spy's optics widened once more.
"You aren't--"
"One iota of betrayal, Rumble, and your name gets dropped. And Galvatron isn't as leaneant on traitors as Megatron was."
"Oh, she's got a point," Minverva whistled as Rumble audibly gulped. "And even if you do deny it, what's saying Galvie's not gonna waste you just for even talking to her?"
"You're not helping, human," Rumble growled. "Arty, you're serious, aren't you?"
"What do you think, Rumble?" she tapped her arm impatiently.
"Not to screw with you," he sulked, defeated.
"You're on your own from here," Artemis finally stated. "Come on, Minnie. We've to a plan to execute."
"You do. I've got my own to worry about."
"Oh well. Rumble, hope to see you soon!" Artemis blew the spy cassette a kiss before punching the door latch to allow her and Minerva outside.
The tiny Decepticon only stared after the two femmes departing, before slipping into an air vent.
***
"Rough day?" Zoe questioned, sticking her head over the cubicle partition, in her hand, a mug of coffee.
"Oh, you would have such a ball," he growled, covering his face with his hand. "EDC is taking over."
"What?"
"This case just got more complicated. Seems we've got more going here than just a simple resisting arrest."
"Hijacking," Zoe pointed out.
"Can't. He took off with an Autobot. Constitutes EDC enforcement. Face it, Zoe, we're up Shit Creek on this one."
"Well, if it's out of our court, Nate, what are we going to do?"
"I seriously don't know," he sat up, scraping his chair closer to the desk and turning on his computer. "You ever get that strange feeling that there's more going on underneath?"
"It's called cop intuition," she pointed out. "We're supposed to get it all the time."
"I don't like how Captain Ryder seemed chummy-chum with one of the Autobots," he retorted bluntly. "Besides, I've heard her name before...not with the EDC, either..."
"What's her name?"
"Minerva Ryder." Lovecraft began tapping in a sequence of commands on the keyboard. "I've heard that name before...but where...? Zoe, do a search on an Autobot named Artemis while you're at it. Hey, Trish!" He called out to the strawberry-blonde intern who just happened to be walking by. "Coffee, black, double sweet."
"Don't know how much help it will be...our records on the Cybertronians are severely limited," she exclaimed, sinking back into her cubicle.
"I just need any information you can find. Hello..." His eyes, one blue, one green, widened at the search results. "Three instances of her name. One in historical records of a Scot woman who was burned as a witch in 1707, and two in recent events...one dating three weeks ago....one Dr. Minerva Ryder of Portland Polytech."
"Same person?" Zoe called over.
"Seems that way. Hmmm...it's a news article of a computer chip from the Unicron planet that was being studied before a Cybertronian mercenary broke in and stole it."
"Smells like an inside job to me," his partner commented. "Let me do a bit of cross-checking."
"The other one dates two days later. Same Dr. Ryder of Portland Poly resigns her position to start family in the East. Heading to New York."
"Coincidence? I think not," Zoe popped her head over the wall again. "Nate, you might want to see these pics I pulled from the database. No mention of Artemis, though."
Nate stood, taking the proffered coffee from Trish as she passed by heading to the captain's office, and strided around the cubicle wall.
"Apparently, the perp in that case was wearing some sort of jamming device; security cameras failed to operate correctly. However, the Portland Sentinel mananged to get a pic or two in before the perp left the scene." Zoe turned the monitor towards Lovecraft, revealing the back end of a large automobile, somewhat blurred.
"That's her, all right," he remarked into his coffee.
"What?"
"'67 Goat. Taillights give it away. No other markings. It should say 'Pontiac' below the keyhole in the trunk. Bunch of amatuers. Probably 200 speed film, too. Remember the black 'Bot from the accident earlier?"
"Nate, you're getting conspiracy on me...."
"She's the one who took the chip. She's the one who's friends with Captain Ryder." Slamming his cup on the desk, he reached over the cubicle and grabbed his jacket. "We do have a conspiracy, Zoe! I'm gonna intercept! Meanwhile, get a detail to guard that kid!"
"MacArin?" Zoe raced after her partner. "Why?"
"One way or another, Ryder's a problem! We've got to make sure she doesn't get to MacArin before we do!"
"So we've got to protect this kid now?"
"Affirmative!"
"Shit," Zoe careened to another cubicle, picking up the phone reciever. "Unit 7, report to Portland General! We have a situation brewing!"
***
Minerva slipped back into her driver's seat, buckling her five-point harness.
"So, meet you at Four Winds in a couple solar cycles?" she questioned the black Transformer.
"Count on it, Minnie," Artemis smiled. "Just like old times."
"Damn straight," the human saluted, revving up her engine. "And next time..."
"You couldn't beat me in that jalopy if you tried!" she chortled, tapping the fender lightly with her foot.
"Wait until I get the 550 dropped in this sucker, then you'll be sorry," Minerva laughed, popping the clutch and smoking the tires on the tarmac.
"Don't give your hopes up," she smirked softly, returning her attention back into the city, almost running headlong into the last Autobot she wanted to see at that moment.
"Artemis, I'm sorry I snuck up on you," Skyfire apologized. "I was hoping maybe we could talk some more, if you're not too busy--"
Primus, he didn't take a hint! She cursed silently. "Could I take a raincheck on that, Skyfire? I need to speak to Kup on an urgent matter that can't posibly wait."
"Oh, of course," the large Autobot nodded. "I wasn't aware you were so busy..."
"You know me; I tend to keep myself occupied no matter what," she winked, striding past him towards the inner city.
Once he was out of sight, she exhaled, narrowing her optics.
"Primus, was he always so dense?" she hissed.
"A follower, indeed," her disembodied companion retorted. "Not much on truly thinking for himself. I can see where you would think he would aide us in our plan...hmph. Do you truly wish to pursue his possible recruitment?"
"Perhaps...but I won't do it now," she mumbled softly. "You don't go looking for allies on enemy territory. I'll wait until we get to Four Winds."
"Where we would have the advantage," she practically heard the spectre nod. "You wouldn't be able to convince your old friend, the Mighty Death, into our scheme, would you?"
She forcefully exhaled.
"Ritter does his own thing," she hissed. "I can trust him with the plan; if he chooses to help us, then so be it. If not, then he's not going to run to Galvatron and betray us, if that's what you're wondering. I'm not--"
Her tone suddenly dropped as her optics fell on the figure within the gate, turned away from her.
"Well? Finish your sentence!" Starscream ordered.
"We'll continue this later, Flyboy," she waved him away absently, striding towards the gate. Hearing the black Transformer's footfalls, the other, winged, femme turned sharply on her heel and faced Artemis with a cool look on her face.
Seeker...
Artemis cocked her head, meeting Stormrave's optics--no...that was a visor. She could tell. It wasn't obvious, unless you knew what you were looking at. This Autobot before her was a Seeker.
"Artemis," the Autobot jet nodded. "I'll be accompanying you on your journey to Cybertron. My name is Stormrave, captain of Sky Patrol."
That same basic demenor. Sure, personalities differed, but that same flyboy--well, flygirl, in this case--cockiness at various levels that she knew in every Seeker she had been in contact with.
"Well, then," Artemis finally nodded with a small smirk, "something tells me I'm going to be in good hands with you, then."
Did she just wince? The mercenary questioned internally as she examined Stormrave's expression. Obviously she knew of Artemis's past; obviously, Stormrave had...not a problem, but a feeling against the grain...around Decepticons.
There was no doubt she was Decepticon-built. Autobots didn't have that war design. Where you raised Autobot? She wanted to ask, or did you decide to join them on your free will?
Instead, she remained silent, keeping the somewhat-friendly smile in place as she waited for Stormrave to make the next move.
"We will be leaving in two megacycles," the red and grey Seeker--no, Autobot--finally stampered out, fighting to regain that cool exterior. "Unless, of course, you have a problem with that..."
"No problem whatsoever," Artemis nodded, hands loosely at her hips with one knee bent. "So, do you go by Stormrave, or Stormy, or Stormer, or what...?"
Stormrave seemed taken a bit aback. Apparently, Artemis rationed, she had not expected her to strike up small conversation. But this was one of the times she wanted to know more about a person. Was this jet before her a coincidence or what?
"I'd prefer Stormrave," she snapped somewhat, arms crossed over her chest.
"Fine. Just don't call me Arty, and we'll get along just fine," Artemis winked, her smile growing wider. "Main launch in two megacycles, eh?"
"Yep." Not yes, yep. She was getting a little more comfortable, not much, though. She was going to be lotsa fun at Four Winds, the black femme chuckled silently. "Also, I need to know your plans for your research mission. Details and whatnot."
"I'll let you know on the way there. I'd rather not discuss my contacts in openness, where someone can overhear. It's bad manners."
"When did a mercenary care about manners?" Mercenary. Not Decepticon. Stormrave's tone was not at all accusing...more like a jest. Oh, Artemis was going to like this jet! If only she could find out more.
Artemis let her mirth show this time, with a heartful laugh.
"There are some who you respect, and others you walk over. Mercking's not totally cut and dry as some might wish people to believe. It involves many shades of grey, knowing what to express and how much to let it show. Clients and contacts, you respect fully. Fellow mercs, same thing. The competition? Don't be afraid to waste them if necessary, though I don't care for those extremes. For me, humiliation works just as well."
Stormrave's face broke somewhat of a grin as Artemis spoke.
"We're dealing with a threat that most know very little about--"
"The Quintessons," Stormrave nodded. "I've heard."
"Exactly. But I know the first and formost expert on those five-faced bastards. And it just so happens I also know his hangout. And, if I ask really nicely, he might just let us in on a few things. But that's the first place to search around. And, while we're at it, get a decent mug of lager while we're at it."
Her new companion chuckled somewhat. "We're not supposed to drink on duty."
Artemis clapped the jet on the shoulder with a wink. "I won't tell if you won't."
With that, the black femme about-faced and strided back into the inner city.
***
This time, the song was Marvelous Three's "Sugarbuzz." A little new and alternative than her normal tastes ran, Minerva got hooked on the song mainly because it was the bus boy's favourite song, playing it over and over while he cleaned up the bar after hours. As she sang along, she almost failed to notice the familiar black and red Mustang Cobra going eastbound, away from the city.
"Wonder where he's going in such a hurry?" she asked herself. "Probably looking for my number--"
Her brow furrowed and her smile dropped when the Mustang made a sharp u-turn, kicking up a massive cloud of road dust as the blues were snapped on.
"Hell of a way to get a chick's number, pig," she snarled distastefully, downshifting and pulling to the shoulder, taking out her registration and proof of insurance out of the glove compartment. Rolling down the window as she undid her seat belt, she looked up at the rather irate raven-haired detective, resting on the butt of his nine-mm.
"Well, good day, Detective!" she smiled brightly. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"I think you know damn well what the trouble is, Captain, or should I say, Doctor Ryder?" he demanded curtly.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Detective," she shook her head, her eyes wide in feinted surprise.
"Portland Polytech, three weeks ago, one Doctor Minerva Ryder reports the Unicron chip was stolen, but never saw the perp. Since it was out of human jurisdiction, we had to hand it over to the Autobots. Interestingly enough, no files were charged on the perp, whom you seemed very friendly towards today. Now, I must really be missing something, Captain or Doctor or Miss Ryder, and I would like to know what."
"Ms. Ryder will suffice," her eyes narrowed as her smile dropped. "I'm thoroughly impressed. You managed to see through the glamour."
"Hands where I can see them!" Lovecraft barked sharply, drawing his piece. "I want you to come out of the car slowly. You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent--"
"Oh, give it up with the Miranda, kid," she growled, taking hold of the handle and pushing open the door. At the last second, she looked up at the detective's face, winked, and slammed the door into his leg. Deftly, she slipped out, hitting the ground on her knee and sweeping his legs out from under him. Glaring down at him writhing in pain, she shook her head with a frown.
"Oh, I really hate doing that, but that'll learn you," Minerva sighed, holding out her hand. "Now, come on...put the Glock away and I'll explain to you what I can on the way to get the kid."
Lovecraft grimaced, whipping the handgun to her as he stood shakenly.
"You're not going anywhere. Impersonating a high-ranking officer of the EDC, attempted kidnapping, attacking an officer of the law, reckless speeding--"
"Story of my life," she growled, darting over the hood of her car to the other side and rolling behind it. Lovecraft fired a warning shot across the hood.
"Come out with your hands--" he noticed the back door flying open. Swiftly, he cracked off two more shots through the rear door window, then sidestepped around the back of the large car.
"Why did you force my hand?" Minvera shouted from around the front. "We could have peacefully resolved this!"
"My ass! You resisted arrest!"
"I am not bound by human laws!"
Lovecraft furrowed his brow, taking a quick peek into the back seat of the Roadrunner, seeing a large, empty sheath of some sorts.
That was just enough distraction for his reluctant opponent he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder, from above.
His gun hand moved before his head; when his eyes locked onto the creature tapping him, fighting his first instinct to flee.
"What the--" he took the final shred of bravery and locked his crosshairs once more. "What the hell are you?"
The creature--humanoid, though elongated feet perched on the roof of the car, leathery wings outstretched behind it, along with a thin, serpentine tail twitching--held a claymore's point to the cop in a clawed hand. The face--still possessing a human look, though the eyes more slanted under two thin horns from the brow and the ears elongated--was almost dead on of Minerva's. Other than the draconian appearance, the tone was that of California tan, her features more elven.
"Draconian Sidhe of Morrigu's Court," she answered shortly, the voice still Minerva's. "Minerva Ryder is my real name, as far as I know. Now put the Glock away, and let's talk. If I wanted to harm you, I would have done it by now."
Trembling, Lovecraft finally holstered the gun.
"Good." The creature jumped down from the roof and threw the sword back into the car. Instantly, the draconian form evaporated like a mist, reverting her back human.
"Was that some sort of illusion?" Nate demanded.
"No, this is the illusion," Minerva spread her arms and looked down.
"I don't believe in magic."
"It's not magic," she retorted. "Get in the car. We've got to get to MacArin and quick."
"Mind explaining your M.O.?" Lovecraft slipped into the front passenger seat.
"You gonna keep an open mind about it?" Minerva jumped back into her seat and buckled up. "I know of the kid's mother. You're not going to find much on her in human records. She was born forty years ago in Edinborough to a Baen Sidhe noble and a human. She was raised human because if the Baen Sidhe court caught wind of her, they would kill her."
"What is a Sh'ee?" Lovecraft demanded as Minerva peeled away from the Mustang.
"It's difficult to pronounce. Fair Folk. Elves. Fae. Fairy. Whatever. They're from the Celt lands, which is one big thinny between this realm and theirs, called Elswher. Contrary to belief, they're not magical beings. There's no such thing as magic, only science that can't be explained. They are beings of solid energy, for the best way to explain them. But they are powerful, they are immortal, but their not invunerable. In fact, they die easier than humans."
"And they're especially vunerable to iron," Lovecraft interjected dryly.
"Iron is a conductor that ciphons energy, especially Elswher energy, big time. You've done your homework."
"I watched Gargyoles when I was in high school."
Minerva stared at him for a couple of seconds, blinked, then resumed her attention on the road.
"Anyway, I wouldn't be so concerned with the kid if the Nebulons weren't so hot to getting his arse back to their planet. Nate, these bastards make the Decepticons look like school yard bullies. And now that I know who his mother is, the Baen Sidhe would want him either dead or for their own, and if it is the later, Earth's in deep shit."
"And why is this, Lady Titania?"
"Don't flatter me," she retorted dryly. "I hear your sarcasm. The Sidhe aren't technologically inclined, if you know what I mean. Because of their physiology, they short electronics just by walking past them."
"I see...."
"No, you don't. This kid can control electronics. Even if his daddy's not Nebulon, the Baen Sidhe are a trouble all in their own. Damn! If only I could explain it better."
"And you?" Lovecraft glared at her. "What about you? You just said you're Sidhe, and yet you're surrounding yourself in iron and electronics."
"Draconian Sidhe, and that was my dad's side of the family. The Sidhe, the Baen and the Daoine, used to breed lower Sidhe with other Elswher creatures for slaves, guards, menial labour, stuff like that. Draconian Sidhe were the elite guards of the Court, created from--"
"--Dragons and elves."
"To put it mildly."
"I'm sorry, but this is all bullshit."
"You sure? I can just drop my guise again and--"
"Just keep talking."
"Thanks. The Draconian Sidhe are the most grounded--least suseptible to the affects of iron, with very little of their own energy for what you would call 'magic'--of the Sidhe courts. Does that help?"
"No. Please explain why I left my car back there and you're not in the back in handcuffs?"
"Because I would hate to ruin such a beauiful Cobra getting away."
"I see."
"Wasn't my other story a lot more believable?"
"Hell yeah."
"You can still believe that, if you want."
"But it's not the truth."
"And you think what I told you is?"
"No, I think that's bullshit you read in a Mercedes Lackey book."
"I can assure you, this isn't an elvensteed." She patted the dash. "One-hundred percent Mopar muscle. Well, a few modifications you'll get to see if the Nebs come around."
"Wonderful."
"After all that has happened in the past with the creatures from outer space, you're reluctant to believe any other intelligent life besides humans came from this planet?"
"You just said the Shee came from another realm."
"They did and they didn't. It's a plane that's commonly shared between Earth and Elswher. Same space, just different existances. It's difficult to explain to linear thinkers."
"Tell me you didn't just insult me."
"No, you're just being human."
Lovecraft stared straight through the windshield, arms crossed over his chest, as Portland's lights twinkled in the twilight.
"I think I was better off believing in just the giant robots," he muttered.
The Belief
Module ***
Luke awoke to the sounds of a commotion outside his door. Curiously, he lifted
his head to see through the tiny window in the door.
Looked like more guards.
"Doesn't make sense," he muttered to himself. "Why would they need so many
guards on me?"
"It seems you are highly covetted by at least two fleshling factions." The
disembodied shrill emitted from his left.
"Shit, I thought I got rid of you," Luke snarled.
"If only you were so lucky."
"Okay, Mr. Air Commander, you seem to know what's going on..."
"Indeed, though there are parts that do not make any sense. Your ability is an
asset to whoever gets their hands on you, yes, but besides that, why would
anyone want something so fragile...? You seem physically weaker than the normal
human...and you're wounded to begin with."
"Hey, you should have been me this morning," Luke laughed, swinging his legs
over the side of the bed. "I was a nobody, some homeless kid no one cared
about." Glancing down at his johnny, he found his pants and shirt folded on the
bureau. Deftly, he grabbed them and threw them on, running his hand through his
red-brown hair quickly. "Now I've got the cops after me, and..." Luke looked in
the direction of the spectre. "Who else?"
"Why should I tell you, fleshling? You are none of my concern."
"You're interested in me just as much if not more than these other dudes," the
human retorted, grabbing his jacket. "And at this point, I'd rather be haunted
by the ghost of the Decepticon Air Commander than deal with these bastards,
regardless who they are."
"Is that so?" The tone took a manipulative dive. Luke stood, shoulders back, and
nodded. "Then it seems it is time we agree to the terms. You will do as I say.
Any questions?"
"What's in it for me?" Luke smirked.
He could practically hear the sneer.
"You as well as one of my former associates are the only ones who can hear and
see me. I will be, how shall we say, an informant for you."
"Nice and all, but I could figure out that kind of stuff on my own." Luke
examined the window, noting the alarm on the upper left corner. "Looks like
you're gonna have to try harder to get my services, Mr. Air Commander. Sucks to
be dead, I would imagine."
"Be silent!" Starscream ordered.
"Ohh, I touched off a nerve," the human grumbled, deadpan. "Look on the bright
side: the only ones who can see you are a wiseass homeless kid and your
girlfriend."
"Arty is not my 'girlfriend,' as you so crudely put it. She is merely a partner
of conveinance who has the same goals as I."
"Anyway, as I was saying, it could be worse; you could be walking around between
living and dead and no one seeing you." Luke smirked, stepping up to the sill
and touching the alarm, shorting it. "Which would explain why you're hanging
around a lowly human. You don't want to not exist."
"What would you know about what I want?" The spectre's tone took a hysterical
turn.
"Hate to break it to you, Mr. Air Commander, but you're a mite transparent, and
I don't mean because you're dead. Now, what I'm trying to figure out is why
you're hanging around an Autobot, and how she ended up 'not your
girlfriend'..."
"For a remark like that, I should kill you--"
"But you can't. So you have two choices. Deal with my wiseass retorts or deal
with your Autobot 'not your girlfriend'..."
"Silence! I will not tolerate your mockery!"
"No, of course not." Jumping from the sill, Luke surveyed his surroundings once
more. "Just curious how you could end up with an Autobot. I thought Decepticons
and Autobots were mortal enemies."
"For your information, Artemis is not an Autobot."
"For real? Hmmm, she seemed to be acting all Autobot and stuff." Pulling off the
bedding from the cot, he dragged it over to the window and cracked open the
small vent window. When it didn't open enough to allow him through, he began
rummaging again for anything to remove the screws bolting it.
"And why should I tell you? All humans are alike; one way or another, you'll run
back to the Autobots and repeat what I tell you. I will not risk losing this
chance for my revenge!"
"On the Autobots?" Luke questioned.
There was a pause, an uneasy silence.
"Some reason, I take that as a no."
"Galvatron is my first priority," Starscream finally replied slowly. "There are
only a few Decepticons brave enough to side with me against him. Without an
avatar, however, I am unable to lead those loyal to me."
"Makes sense. Listen, Mr. Air Commander, I'll make you a deal. I'll help you,
only to get rid of Galvatron. Only because I see him as the greater of the
evils. As soon as Galvie's gone, you're on your own. I won't stand by you if you
attack the Autobots. However, I will keep everything said between us
private."
"A plausible deal, but I sense something more." Luke could feel Starscream's
narrowed glare. "I shall restate your earlier question: What is in it for you?
You're too crafty to make a deal that benefits only me."
"Again, while I help you, no harm is done to the Autobots. As soon as Galvatron
is out of the picture, the deal's over, and I go back being me and you do
whatever you want to do."
"Is that all?"
"You wouldn't agree if I asked you to leave the Autobots alone indefinitely,
would you?"
"You are intelligent, for a fleshling...a human one at that. If what Ryder says
is true, however, perhaps I can tolerate you little more than the normal
human."
"'Ryder?'" Luke questioned.
"A fleshling acquaintence of Artemis's...none of your--"
There was a sudden shout from outside the doors.
"Fuck," Luke hissed under his breath. "No time...."
"The Autobots remained unharmed in my schemes for exchange of your abilities
against Galvatron. We have a deal, human."
"And, you're just gonna leave me to deal with the feds. Thanks."
"What much can I do?" The spectre's tone grew mocking, cold. "I'm just a
ghost."
"Good point," Luke snorted, narrowing his bright green eyes. "End of the
road."
Glancing back at the window, he bolted forward. The bedding he was going to use
for a rope forgotten, he sat on the sill, kicking his leg at the pane, causing
spider-web cracks in the safety glass. With another kick, he bent the frame,
just enough to slip through to the ledge.
However, his broad shoulders stuck.
"Dammit!" Bringing his arms close to his chest, he pushed his shoulders forward,
his knees against the cold masonry outside the window as he yanked back. With a
grimace, he heard a pop, then felt a shot of pain as he finally slipped out to
the ledge, his left arm in agony. "Dammit!"
Dislocation. It had to be.
Looking down, he judged the distance between him and the ground and decided
against jumping three stories into a parking lot full of police cruisers.
"This way," Starscream ordered curtly, next to his ear. He felt a rush of air
going forward, and took that as an omen. Expertly, he ran across the ledge,
cradling his wounded arm.
"Don't want to lose your investment, eh, Mr. Air Commander?"
"I do wish you would stop calling me that."
"Term of respect, I assure you."
"I bet it is. Will you still function?"
"I dislocated my shoulder...as soon as I get someplace safe, I can have someone
pop it back in for me."
"You talk too much, human," the spectre scoffed. "Around the corner. There is a
fire escape."
"Thanks," Luke pivoted sharply on his foot around the tight corner of the
building, taking hold of the fire escape rail with his right hand. Vaulting over
the rail, he landed hard and proceeded to run down the metal stairs.
"Starscream, this is too easy," he hissed. "There's no guards, no cops."
"Perhaps they underestimated your condition."
"Perhaps. But you'd think by now they would have checked my room and see it in a
state of disarray."
"Or perhaps they are total idiots."
"I sometimes like the way you think, Mr. Air Commander--"
He suddenly paused, eyes wide, staring at the large orange and black musclecar
careening over the grass towards his position. "Oh, shit!"
"Wonderful," Starscream growled. "Minerva's decided to join in the fun."
"Minerva?"
"I spoke of her earlier."
"Then she's a friend?"
"I have no friends, fleshling!" the spectre suddenly snarled. "I haven't the
need for them!"
"So do we stay or run?" Luke demanded shortly as the doors of the Roadrunner's
doors flew open, the passenger shielding himself with the door as he aimed his
nine-mm at the young man.
"Freeze!" Detective Lovecraft ordered sharply.
"Shit," Luke growled, raising his uninjured hand over his head.
The driver threw open her door and slid out, slamming it closed after her before
storming up to Luke. Blond, a bit on the short side, not exactly pretty, but
nonetheless, the green-eyed young man felt compelled to heed to whatever she
demanded of him.
"Minerva Ryder, I presume," he whispered.
"You've heard of me," she nodded.
"Somewhat reluctantly," he smirked somewhat. "What's going on?"
"Kid, you're in danger. I represent a protection agency who can keep you safe
from those who are out to use and abuse your abilities."
"Oh, wonderful. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, here I come." He
chuckled, a bit pained. "I won't wear the spandex, though."
"Oh, a wise guy. Listen, kid, the humans are the least of your worries, as well
as the EDC and the IA." She nodded towards her car. "Get in. We'll get you to a
safe place and explain on the way--" she then noticed his wounded arm. "What
happened?"
"Probably disloc--" he grimaced in pain as she snapped her hand out and expertly
twisted his arm back into place before he could finish the sentence. "Thanks,"
he coughed through gritted teeth.
"No problem. We'll look at that in more detail when we get to our
destination."
"What about the cops?"
"Don't worry about them right now. They're the least of our worries. Get in the
car, and you can start by telling me how you know of me."
As she slipped back into the car, Luke followed reluctantly, opening the back
door.
"Um...you know your window's shattered?" he questioned, taking his jacket sleeve
and sweeping away the glass to the floor.
"We can thank the good detective for that. Nate, dear, get back in the car.
We've got to get you back to your car before your precinct begins to worry."
Lovecraft shook his head viciously, but complied as she sheathed his handgun and
slid back into his seat. Minerva had already turned over the engine and shifted
into reverse by the time the detective had closed the door.
"So, back to my question, Mr. MacArin...." Minerva cued.
"Um....you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me. I've seen quite a bit today." Deftly, she shifted into nuetral, then
into first and popped the clutch, smoking the tarmac.
The woman caught Luke's nervous glance at the cop through her rearview mirror
and laughed.
"Don't mind him...he's under a glamour," she stated. "Aren't you, Nate,
sweetie?"
Lovecraft gave Minvera a stern glare, but said nothing.
"A what?"
"It's difficult to explain. He's not under a mind control or anything. Just a
bit of a haze, with one little suggestion, which is to obey what I say. It's a
natural ability with me. So again, I repeat the question..."
"It's gonna sound a bit crazy, but for some reason, I see dead robot ghosts."
"You too?" Minerva chortled. "Let me guess...the Air Commander."
"You see him too?"
"Nope, but a mutual friend can. Has he been a real bastard to you?"
"As much as one can expect."
"He doesn't dare screw with me," she suddenly laughed, startling Luke. "Hey,
Flyboy, if you're around, I still have those pictures!"
Luke's face grew perplexed.
"He doesn't seem too happy about that."
"He wouldn't, which is why he wouldn't screw with me even if he was still alive.
It's what the good guys call entrapment and the bad guys call blackmail. And
what I call a living."
"What are the pictures of, then?"
Minerva laughed again.
"Oh, now I would never break contract with anyone, living and dead. If anyone
besides him or Arty knows what they are or where I hid them, contract's off, and
I would be just another fleshling to get rid of in his book."
"And he knows this."
"Hell yeah. But he couldn't find the photos if he wanted to."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't tell anyone where they are....one thing that I am, and that's
good to my word. And good at hiding stuff."
"So, you're taking me off planet?" Luke then questioned as Minerva careened onto
a ramp to the interstate.
"Have to. The guys hunting you on-planet are more dangerous than the ones coming
from Nebulos."
"I thought you said--" both males interjected at the same time, for different
reasons.
"Luke, the guys hunting you here aren't human. Nate, the Sidhe can use any
Earth-bound energy as a source of power. While you're at it, sweetie, why don't
you take a nap? You've had a rough day."
Instantly, Lovecraft's head bobbed downward as he snored softly.
"He won't remember a thing," Minerva whispered, more to herself.
"So, mind explaining?" Luke demanded.
She suddenly sighed loudly.
"Luke, hunny, I don't know where to start."
***
Lovecraft lifted his head, groggy, as if he had went to a weekend bender and
forgotten the entire party.
He was in his Mustang, the seat reclined as if he had taken a nap within it, the
radio playing softly KBOT's Metal Meltdown Marathon. Monster Magnet's "Silver
Future" was coming to a close. Hand to his head with a groan, he checked his
watch. Not even seven p.m. yet.
"I left the precinct not even an hour and a half ago," he mumbled to himself.
"What the fuck happened?"
The deejay for Metal Meltdown, female with a electronic twang to her voice
(which wasn't unusual, since KBOT was run from Autobot City), broke through the
airwaves.
"And a powerful rocker by the awesome Monster Magnet, that was 'Silver
Future' from the Heavy Metal FAKK 2 soundtrack! Coming up, we have a
request and dedication from Minnie to Nate...she had fun, babe, but don't expect
her to call back! Ooooohhhh, sounds like a sour date there! Anyway, from the Use
Your Illusion 1 album, here's G'n'F'n'R with 'You Ain't The First!'"
Minnie. Minerva. That bitch--
He suddenly drew a blank. Minerva...who was she? A fuzzy memory...as if he
really did go to that bender that lasted an hour....
He couldn't remember anything about her, save her name! And even then, he
couldn't recall details....
A total blank!
"Dammit!" He struck the steering wheel angrily and uprighted his seat. Starting
over the engine, he shifted into drive and peeled off the shoulder back to the
precinct.
***
Stormrave glanced momentarily at the black femme standing next to her, her ice
blue optics staring at the waxing moon.
"Anxious to get home?" the jet questioned, attempting to make conversation.
Artemis chuckled somewhat, shaking her head.
"Stormrave, I don't have much of a home anywhere," she remarked softly.
"Cybertron least of all."
The red and grey Autobot's expression grew stoic.
"Is that what you choose?" she whispered somewhat.
"I'm not one to really stay in one place for any amount of time. It's just my
nature. Why...you seem a little...."
"I'd rather not talk about it here," Stormrave retorted sharply.
"Of course not," Artemis nodded slightly, then, under her breath, added, "I'm
not going to enjoy the trip there, I can tell you that much."
"I take it Zodiac's been telling you stories about me, then." The jet's mood
improved somewhat, but there was something lying underneath still.
"Nothing about you. More like Skyfire. We were friends before the Great War."
"Why not now?"
"I don't know...our personalities clash too much, I suppose. He just seems a
little more...hmmm...naive, than what I remembered him to be."
"Time changes people, from what I've learned."
"An important lesson, indeed. And I think it's changed me more than him." With a
slight one-shouldered shrug, Artemis smiled.
"Not to sound nosy or anything," the jet coughed, "but for someone surrounded by
those who up until twenty solar cycles ago where your enemies, you seem a bit
upbeat about your situation."
"A useful tidbit of information told to me by a friend of mine back at Four
Winds...'smile, if confuses the hell out of everyone.'" With a wink, Artemis
then nodded towards the gate. "Looks like our ride's coming."
Skyfire joined the two, towering over them as he smiled warmly.
I wonder how he truly feels, Artemis pondered. He knew that, up till three weeks
ago, I was a Decepticon, and Stormy here looks like a Seeker...I wonder if he's
uneasy with the situation.
"We're cleared to leave," the transport exclaimed. "Whenever you're ready--"
"--as soon as possible, then," Artemis retorted, hiking up the strap to her
dataport. "The faster we can get this over with, the sooner I can return to my
research."
"What are you researching, exactly, if you don't mind me asking?" Skyfire
questioned, transforming into jet mode.
"Vectoring known Quintesson sightings, base of operations, that sort of thing. I
don't trust Unicron's message, so I'm doing the figuring outs myself."
"Unicron's message?" Stormrave demanded as the two boarded.
"Unicron is having a little fun with the Autobots and Decepticons. In exchange
for the remedy for the virus, he'll let us know the Quintessons scheme.
Personally, I've known too many people with too many schemes to fall for that
little ploy, so I'm going to search for the answer myself. That's why I've been
talking to Kup and Rod lately. If they can continue deciphering the virus, I'll
use what I know to get some answers out of old friends of mine, who hear
anything and everything."
"Indeed," Skyfire retorted softly, though he did not say anymore of the subject
as he prepped his engines and began taxiing down the runway. Artemis instantly
closed her optics and gritted her teeth, resting her head against the warm
living metal of Skyfire's hold.
Stormrave chuckled. "Not much for flying, are you, grounder?"
"It's not the flying that bothers me," she grimaced.
"It's the heights," Skyfire added though his internal speakers. "Artemis, I
would have thought by now--"
"Right. I have about as much luck outgrowing that as Megatron was using his head
for anything other than ramming it into a wall."
"You don't like heights," Stormrave smirked.
"I hate them, abhor them, loathe them, despise them--"
"--and yet you spent most of your time with fliers," the transport pointed
out.
"Strangely enough," Artemis retorted, deadpan. "I must have something for
hotheaded, egotisitical showoff fliers...must be the wings."
"Do I want to know?" the femme jet chuckled. "Anyway, how can one be afraid of
heights? That wasn't a stupid question, was it?"
"Skyfire already knows why. Might as well tell you...I think I like you enough."
Sitting back up, Artemis finally opened her optics. "Just before my first
upgrade, I was victim to one of Skywarp's practical jokes. He wasn't out to hurt
anyone, really...just didn't realise how solidly I was built." She chortled
somewhat, though ruefully. "He was just getting the handle of his teleport, and,
to make a long story short--"
"--He 'ported five-thousand meters above Cybertron with her," Skyfire finished
when the black femme hestitated somewhat, "and lost his grip."
"An accident, really. It was before anyone knew the difference between 'Autobot'
and 'Decepticon,'" Artemis nodded slightly. "We usually met over at the
Ridge...you know, between Iacon and Polyhex. Picked on each other, for the most
part, though my Autobot friends never wanted to take part in the roughhousing."
She snickered again. "But anyway, that's probably the reason why I hate heights.
No matter what anyone tried to do to get rid of it--I've done everything from
operant conditioning to actually going inside my core processor--nothing. It
might have to do with my actual spark itself. Embedded."
"Not really a good fear to have taking into consideration your old buddies were
for the most part all fliers," Stormrave suggested.
"Yeah, but it made them underestimate me at first." She sat back again, her
hands laced behind her head and her knee crossed over the other. "Anyway,
Autobots weren't built for flight, unless their function was transport. The
Decepticons needed the flight capabilities due to the fact that they were
originally defenders of Cybertron." Her brow suddenly furrowed. "Then Megatron
changed them."
"That makes sense," Skyfire struck an epiphany. "Something of Megatron's caliber
would be just enough to have turned Starscream against me...away from his
science."
Megatron's caliber, indeed. You and I both knew Starscream had ambition to begin
with, Skyfire. It only took the right words from Megatron to get his head full
of ideas." Artemis sighed sadly, closing her optics once more.
Internally, however, as Stormrave mulled over what she and Skyfire had
discussed, Artemis smiled. Perhaps she did have a chance to bring her lost
friend back to her side. And this jet...Stormrave seemed to be listening openly.
She was Autobot, yes, but she seemed more open-minded about what Artemis had
spoken about. She didn't point out what she had been told by the Autobot elders,
nor did she even question their past friendship with Starscream.
She would still have to take things slowly, however. As much as Jetfire and
Stormrave seemed open to listen to her own, more subtle, manipulation, she
couldn't risk revealing the scheme to them yet. The two were to accompany her to
Four Winds; if anywhere, she would inform them of a revolt planned by the
Decepticons she had conveinantly learned from her overhearing of the
Combaticons. To let them know that this was indeed cooked up by herself in
Starscream's stead...using her subtle suggestions to manipulate and presuade the
old Decepticons just as she was now with the Autobots...no. She would wait even
longer before that ever happened, perhaps even after she took care of Galvatron
once and for all.
(revenge, in other words,) her conscious, in the voice of her old friend Optimus
Prime, whispered distastefully.
Revenge...? Partially. But to get rid of Galvatron would benefit both Autobots
and Decepticons. It might bring them together, even. Especially when the
Quintessons are concerned at this point.
(but ultimately, the revenge factor is still there. You can't fool everyone for
long. Skyfire, as naive as he seems, knows you too well to assume that you are
striking at Galvatron only for the good of Cybertron. He will make the
connection between you and Starscream.)
She scowled slightly. As much as she hated to listen to that goodie-two-shoe
side, it was correct.
(but,) the voice changed suddenly to Starscream's nails-against-metal shrill.
She only took a quick click to realise that it wasn't the real Starscream.
(naive as he is, he still holds friendship in the highest regard. you wouldn't
have made it this far in your schemes had you lacked the tact you wove into your
manipulation. behold! he listens to you in trust. you could tell him Galvatron
was working through Rodimus Prime and if he didn't believe you, he would at
least investigate.)
Then what about Stormrave? She demanded silently, sourly.
The two voices were silent.
Waiting is now an option. Her patience, where not infinite, was longer than most
Transformers.
"Art," Skyfire broke her train of thought. "We're out of Earth's gravitation
field. We'll be arriving at the warpgate in approximately one megacycle."
"Thanks, Skyfire," Artemis opened her optics, finding Stormrave staring at a
dataport of smaller design than the one hanging from the mercenary's
shoulder.
Not much longer, she smiled somewhat.
But the question was, to what?
***
"Let's see the bright side of this," Luke grumbled as he stood beside Minerva,
leaning on the Roadrunner's trunk. "I get off planet. Downside: my backpack's
missing. In other words, my life." He exhaled sharply. "I'm really beginning to
hate my life."
"My, aren't we a bit pessimistic." The woman stared up into the night sky.
Above, blinking landing lights from a transport cruised to touchdown.
"Ah...there's my baby."
"Your...baby?" The green-eyed man stared at the battered Sirian transport.
Outward, it looked like it had seen its fair share of battles; the hull seemed
barely space-worthy, with uneven sodder filling cracks in the metal. Paint
peeled from the narrow wings, and the engine belched oily smoke from the exhaust
port. Minerva nodded proudly, pushing away from her car.
"You know how to drive, kid?" she demanded, tossing him the keys. "It's got a
heavy clutch."
"'Clutch?'"
"Yeah, you know, that pedal to the far left?"
"'Um...I don't know how to drive manual transmission..."
Minerva stared at him as though he had grown a second head.
"You poor soul," she shook her head sadly. "Oh, well, no time like the present
to learn. Clutch, look at the diagram on the shifter, push it to first, release
the clutch and press down on the gas gently at the same time."
Okay...."
Minerva winked, then ran up the boarding ramp into the cargo hold of the
ship.
"Wonderful," Luke grumbled, sliding into the driver's seat and stared down at
the three pedals on the floor. "I never drove a manual tranny in my life...."
Minerva's mind was elsewhere as she ventured out of the cargo hold into the
cockpit. Her optics furrowed somewhat as she noted a pair of translucent insect
wings sicking from either side of the pilot's chair, obscuring the rest of the
person.
"Where's Drez, babe?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
The wings shivered excitedly as the pilot spun around in the chair, revealing an
insectoid robot, its multifaceted optics glinting from the control panel
lights.
"Bossbot had previous engagement," the insect retorted, a high-pitched buzz
undertoning his saprano voice. "Elder wife's birthday."
"Of course," Minvera smirked, rolling her eyes. "Well, mission is a success, at
least this part. How are the weapon systems?"
"Nominal." His antennae twitched. "Waspinator and Minniebot
expecting....trouble?" His voice climbed in tone, metamorphing into a
whimper.
"Nebulons, Waspy. And Sidhe." The woman slipped into the gunner seat and ran a
system diagnostic. "Not only that, the Quints are rearing their ugly heads, but
our priority is the kid. Leave the Quints to Ritterkruez and the other
Cybertronians. They can handle them."
"Affirmative. Beast mode." Waspinator folded in on himself, now resembling a
more of a large green and gold insect. "Waspinator check hold. Minniebot do
preflight?"
"Sounds like a plan, Waspy. Just don't scare the kid."
Waspinator zipped overhead, hovering just above Minerva's head. Looking down at
her, he muttered, "When did Waspinator ever instill fear in anyone? Most
Waspinator ever instilled was comic relief for Predacons and Maximals...." His
antennae drooped even further. Minerva smiled, patting his head.
"Don't let it get to you, Waspy...we still love you."
Waspinator's features brightened as he buzzed out of the cockpit and into the
hold, where he was blinded by a pair of highbeam headlights.
One second, he was the happiest robotic organism in the galaxy.
Now he had that gut feeling he had witnessed so many times before.
"Waspinator sense much damage," he mewed as the sound of smoking tires struck
his auditory sensors just before he collided with the Roadrunner's
windshield.
"Holy shit!" Luke jumped out of the car, allowing the engine to die on its own.
"Dude, you okay? Man, I didn't even see you...shit...um...what are you?"
The robot insect peeled his face from the glass and regarded Luke with a pained
look.
"Luke MacArin, Waspinator presumes," he whimpered in agony.
"Correct in that assumption....and who are you?" the young man demanded, helping
the robot wasp peel himself from the windshield.
"Waspinator is...nnnn..." The green and gold robot whimpered, his mandibles
quaking. "Waspinator temportally displaced somewhat. Minniebot and doggybossbot
give Waspinator place to stay before Waspinator can return home."
"Temporally displaced? How?" Swiftly, Luke began repairing the bug's wings and
loose legs as easily as putting together a Legos playset.
"Waspinator from future, but went back in past. Dragonbot--before he was
dragonbot--tricked Waspinator. Promised Waspinator glory, fame, respect...but
all Waspinator got was blown up. Then dragonbot leave Waspinator with
fleshiebots who worshipped Waspinator, but Waspinator did something to tick them
off and they chased Waspinator away and Waspinator wanted to go home but
couldn't, so Waspinator stuck." Taking a deep exhale of breath, the wasp
twitched his wings, then went airbourne, zipping over to the hold controls and
closing the airlock. "Until weird rift opened. Waspinator flew through, and
found himself in big fleshiebot city. That twenty years ago. Waspinator totally
lost then, until Minniebot found Waspinator. Minniebot took Waspinator in and
gave Waspinator a home on Sirius II...Waspinator do work as bus bot in kitchen,
but at least now Waspinator appreciated, don't get blown up, and got girlfriend
too...." Shrugging, or rather, as close to a shrug as an insect could get,
Waspinator led Luke into the cockpit, where Minerva was still at her console.
"Waspinator's life way better now, but Waspinator still miss home."
"Why can't you go home?" Luke asked softly. He first part of Waspinator's
history was a blur; Luke barely understood half of it.
"Waspinator may cause abnomality in timestreem if Waspinator return to
Cybertron," he whispered. "Waspinator built Predacon; Predacons not been built
for another two and half centuries. If Decepticons and Autobots find
Waspinator...nnn--AAAAAAAIIIIIII!!!!!"
Waspinator's sudden scream started both Luke and Minerva.
"Baby, what's wrong?!" Minerva jumped out of her seat, pulling a large caliber
Howitzer from under the seat.
The wasp buzzed sharply, flying behind her control panel, hiding with the
exception of his wings quivering nervously.
"Waspy?" the blonde woman peeked over the panel. "What's wrong?"
"Is he always that nervous?" Luke questioned.
"Sometimes, but not that bad, only when Starscream used to come into the bar.
But that was ages ago. Waspy, please...tell me what's wrong?"
"Well, it can't be his ghost," Luke shrugged. "Dude disappeared when we got
here."
"Noooo..." Waspinator shot upwards, flying in circles. "Waspinator sense
ghostbot....ghostbot near...Waspinator's spark feels it..."
"Easy, Waspy...he won't hurt you..." Minerva cooed. "He's only a ghost...he
can't do anything to you."
"Possessed me!" Waspinator cried out. "Made me attack other Predacons!
Reprogrammed! Made me protect prettykittybot!" Waspinator suddenly blinked.
"Actually, Waspinator didn't really mind that part...."
"Ohhhh...kay...." Luke blinked a couple of times. "Is this one of those temporal
things we're not supposed to get?"
"From what I gathered from Waspy, apparently Starscream's ghost from the future
followed them to prehistoric earth--"
"Followed prettykittybot!" Waspinator corrected, hovering next to Minerva. She
placed a hand on his head, almost protectively, as he relaxed, whirring
happily.
"--Anyway, apparently, our favourite dead Air Commander decided to gather his
own army, and used Waspinator to do so..."
"Possessed Waspinator...made Waspinator do stuff he didn't want to do...then
prettyspiderbot blew me up and ghostbot left." His multifaceted optics saddened.
"Waspinator thought last he saw of Ghostbot. Ghostbot put program in Waspinator,
safeguard. Prettykittybot activated it, but not her fault. She didn't know." His
antennae quivered violently.
"It's gonna be okay, Waspy," Minerva soothed. "Starscream can't do anything to
you now."
"Minniebot...promise?" Waspinator looked up at her with a trusting, naive
innocence to his optics.
"Of course, baby. Now let's get everything ready to go home, okay?"
"Waspinator comply," the wasp nodded, flying over to the pilot's seat. "Lukiebot
take communication seat?"
"Um...sure," Luke replied, slipping into the seat.
"I'm gonna lock up the car. I'll be right back." She stood, stretching. "In the
meantime, Waspy, can you inform Control we're leaving?"
"Waspinator comply," he repeated. "Waspinator, terrorizzze!"
With that, the wasp split apart into his robot mode, landing heavily in his
seat.
"So you're a Transformer?" Luke questioned.
"Affirmative," the Predacon answered.
"And you're from the future?"
"Affirmative."
"Then how come you're not, like, twenty feet tall or something?"
"Lukie-bot ask a lot of questions," Waspinator commented. "Predacons and
Maximals built for energy saving. Autobots and Decepticons not fuel
efficient."
"I see...."
"Good...now, will Lukie-bot let Waspinator do his job?"
"Sure..." The boy slouched in his chair, studying the console in front of him,
written in what looked like clawmarks scratched into the glass.
"Starport Command, this is Sirian Transport Larksong...permission to take
off?"
"Permission denied, Larksong," A husky-sounding man retorted
through the speakers. "We're picking up activity in the outer atmosphere. We
have to isolate and identify before we can allow any departures or landings.
You're looking at an hour to two hour delay."
Waspinator's optics narrowed, his mandibles twitched irritably.
"Larksong comply. Larksong out." the wasp flipped off the switch.
"Glitch. Waspinator had too much to do back in kitchen. Why Waspinator have to
be stuck with slag jobs?"
"Car's locked down," Minerva returned shortly. "So we ready to leave?"
"Negative. Spaceport say unknown activity in outer atmosphere. Can't leave until
they identify." Under his breath, Waspinator added, "Fleshiebots couldn't
identify own interface units with both hands and an instruction manual."
Luke gave a short laugh as the woman jumped onto her gunner station and brought
up a three-d scematic that appeared to be a cross-section of Earth's atmosphere.
Three blips lit up over the Northeastern United States.
"Shit...too organised to be natural," she grumbled. "Waspy, hack into the US
Department of Defense and see if they've got some sort of visual."
"Affirmative." Nimbly, Waspinator worked at the controls, bringing up his own
three-d screen. "Waspinator hitting firewall of unknown origin. Fleshiebots
upgraded since last been hacked."
"Leave it to me," Luke suddenly interjected, staring at the controls. Different
written language, yes, but one thing remained constant. Mathematics was a
universal language, and any computer program could be ultimately broken down
into binary. If he could only manage to figure out how download that
information--
There was a sudden snap in the front of his brain as data seemed to stream from
the datatracks in the Shrike's Cry directly into his mind...how to read
the Sirian language, how the console worked, how to fly the ship, everything
down to the password to Waspinator's email. Instantly, his own screen came up.
Without even touching the console, he broke the firewall of the Defense computer
and brought up a detailed schematic of three streamline ships cruising above New
York State.
Minerva and Waspinator both stared at the young man as he worked; however, it
was the female whose eyes widened when she realised what exactly had entered
Earth's atmosphere.
"Jesus H. Christ! Waspinator, boot up the engines! Those be Nebulons! Luke,
fasten your seat belt, we're gonna go emergency jump!"
"Waspinator is having really shitty day," the wasp whined, snapping his own
harness in place. "First Waspinator drop favourite Star Trek watch in toilet,
then Ghostbot come back, now Nebulons, what next?"
"Waspy, you don't own a Star Trek watch," Minerva stated, bringing her outer
weapons online.
"Waspinator apologize; it was Minniebot's watch."
The blonde blinked, then growled somewhat.
"We'll talk about it later. Go to jump!"
"But we never jumped at full stop!" Waspinator whined.
"Do it!" Minerva ordered sharply, baring fang that was too long to be a human
canine.
"Eep! Waspinator comply!" he mewed, flipping a couple of switches and taking
hold of the steering mechanism, pulling up sharply. The Shrike's Cry
lurked upward at an alarming rate, jarring Luke into the depths of his
seat.
"Larksong, you are in violation of a direct order! Return to the port
immediately!"
"Minniebot?" Waspinator demanded meekly.
"Keep going, Waspy!" she shouted. "If those bastards get to us, we're almost as
good as dead!"
"Waspinator comply!"
"Good! Full throttle skybound! Luke, what's the position of those Nebs, and
their ETA to us?"
"They're over Detroit now! I give them another ten minutes, max!" Adreneline
gave Luke new strength, feeling at last part of something big, something
exciting.
"Waspy, get us the slot outta here!" Minerva ordered.
"Waspinator comply with all his spark!" the green and gold Predacon chortled,
pulling down a lever next to his seat, forcing all three to sink into their
padded seats as the indigo sky blackened even more, the stars ceasing their
twinkling...
Luke glanced over at his screen with a curse.
"They're in pursuit!" he shouted.
"Dammit!" Minerva cursed. "Bring up warp and be prepared to burst!" She slammed
her fist into a button on her console, bringing down a gun site from above her
head.
"And to think this morning, I thought it was going to be a normal day," Luke
chuckled ruefully. "Damn, those dudes close in fast..."
"Shit shit shit shit shit!!! Waspinator, evasive action!"
"Waspinator CAN'T do both!" the wasp buzzed shortly.
"Yes, Waspinator can! Waspinator has to!" she barked. "I've got visual!"
"Glitch!"
"We've got more incoming!" Luke shouted as three more blips showed up on his
screen. "They're EDC!"
"Shit, our cover's blown!" Minerva flipped a couple more switches. Luke sensed a
shiver in the ship as the holographic diguise dropped, revealing a much sleaker
battle cruiser, gunmetal with blue trim. "Shrike's Cry, all systems
online!"
"Warp engine online!" Waspinator confirmed. "Emergency jump in two cycles!"
"In the meantime, let's show those Nebs not to screw with the Four Winds!"
Minerva concentrated on the gun scope before her, six views giving her a
panoramic picture around the ship. Her hands placed gently on the touchpad as a
pianist on the ivories, awaiting to play a symphony. "A little battle music,
sil vous plait."
"Affirmative!" The Predacon hooted, taking one hand from the steering and
reaching underneath his beast head, pulling out a compact disc. Swiftly, he
inserted it into a drive above his head and pressed a series of buttons. Almost
deafeningly, the operatic "One Winged Angel" from the Final Fantasy VII game
began, the timpanies and horns in their militiant march.
"I was hoping for something a little more metal, but this will do!" Minerva
chortled. "Waspy, hard left! Give me a tight pitch, but keep some distance
between us and the Nebs!"
"Affirmative!" The nose of the swung left, maintaining a level as the six
incoming ships came into view.
A few laser blasts strafed across Shrike's Cry's flank, deflecting
upwards. Both EDC and the Nebulon ships--easily to tell apart, the EDC's blue
and green trim on boxy versions of the space planes developed by NASA, and the
red and grey of the much sleaker, space black Nebulon warships--were exchanging
laser fire with one another as well as the Sirian battle cruiser.
Minnie's hands flew across the board as her gaze remained on the gun sights.
"What's the situation on the warp, Waspy!" she cried over the music.
"Thirty clicks!" Waspinator stated. "Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"
Luke sucked in a breath, his eyes wide at the situation outside. Earth was below
them, a blue and white orb with the sun cresting above Australiasia and Japan.
For an instant, he was washed over with a sense of insignifigance.
Which dispated quickly as another bolt scored a direct hit to the right wing.
"Glitch!" Waspinator snarled, cranking his wheel as he thrusted downward. The
Shrike's Cry yawed nose first, rolling to put it's shielded roof to the
attackers. "Fifteen! Fourteen!"
"Begin routing the warp, Waspy!" Minnie continued her symphony assault, firing a
barrage of laser fire. "Looks like the EDC's breaking pursuit!"
"But not the Nebs!" Luke cried out, gasping somewhat in excitement.
"Their missiles are cycling! We can't warp with shields!" she exclaimed.
"Ten! Nine! Waspinator's life sucks! Six! Five!"
"Interceptors online!" she barked, flipping more switches. The gun sight
suddenly split apart, bringing up a seventh screen, this one reading infrared. A
joystick of some sorts rose from the console. Gripping it, Minerva's grey eyes
locked onto the screen, aiming the crosshairs at the pursuing ships.
"Three! Two!"
The Nebulon ships launched off at least six projectiles just as Waspinator lit
the warp engines, flinging the ship into a rift that suddenly appeared in front
of them. The three sentients were pushed deeper into their seats, Minerva
fighting to keep her sights locked on the missiles. "Waspinator! Full evasive as
soon as we get out of warp!"
"Affirmative!" the Predacon cried, his hands gripped tightly to his station.
The pressure instantly returned to normal as the stars suddenly shifted in front
of Luke's eyes. He blinked, shaking his head, as suddenly, Waspinator brought
the ship into a hard left with an upward yaw.
"Nebs still in pursuit! Waspy, radio Darxtar and tell him we require some
backup!"
"Affirmative!"
Regaining her equilibrium, she locked back on to the missiles and touched off
her own interceptor missiles. Launching two at a time, she cursed at the
slowness of the barrel cycling.
"Luke, get the shields up!" she barked. Luke nodded, staring at the console with
his eyes narrowed. There was another click within his brain, and a bluish tinge
suddenly surrounded Shrike's Cry.
"Shrike's Cry to Four Winds! Require backup! Nebulons in pursuit! Can't
shake! HELP!!!" Waspinator whined.
"Shrike's Cry, this is Darxtar! We're sending what we can spare! Drez is on
his way with Tailgate!"
"It's so great to have an understanding and supportive boss, eh, Waspy?"
"Waspinator is busy doing evasive manueveurs, Minniebot!"
"Good boy!"
"What's Tailgate?" Luke questioned as the three Nebulon ships broke formation.
"Shit! I lost sight of one of them!"
"Dammit!" Minerva cycled up her own concussion missiles and launched two towards
the incoming bogie. "I hate to resort to this, but we've got no choice!"
There was a blinding explosion--though eerily, with the exception of the
climatic ending to "One Winged Angel", no sound was produced--as the Nebulon
fighter in front of them failed to roll at the last second.
"Luke, find the other fighters! Waspy, put something a little more upbeat!"
"Affirmative!" Waspinator struck the track button a couple of times, then
returned to his piloting as the telltale drums and guitar rifts of "Immigrant
Song" by Led Zeppelin thundered through the speakers.
"Bogie at four o' clock! Bearing zero-zero-two!" Luke shouted, reading the
coordinates that appeared on his screen.
"Good boy!" Minerva located, locked, and fired two more concussions at the
visible Nebulon fighter. As that one went up in a violent but silent fury, she
then cried out "The last one! Luke, where's the last one of those bastards?"
"I can't pinpoint it!"
"Fuck! Keep looking! Waspinator! Are you picking up Tailgate?"
"Negative. They haven't come into sensor range."
"Dammit!" The woman studied her views. "Dammit dammit dammit! Where the hell are
you?!"
Abruptly, one by one, Shrike's Cry's systems booted down, first the
radio, then engines and propulsion, gunner station, sensors, until only life
support and gravitation fields remained on.
"Fuck," Minerva snarled, unsnapping her harness and jumping to her feet, the
Howitzer from earlier in one hand. "I think we found the assholes."
"Dead in the water," Waspinator whimpered, standing as well, pulling his own
pistol out from an unseen sheathe. "Waspinator not like that...."
"Luke, stay here. We're gonna manually lock the door. If anyone tries to get in,
there's a loaded Ack-ack under your seat...or is it the M-16? One or the other.
Come on, Waspy."
"Sounds like a plan," Luke whispered. "You want me to try to get the systems
back on?"
"You can try...but don't do anything until I tell you to!" With an ear pressed
against the door, she nodded to Waspinator and forced it open. The robot stepped
out into the hold, his multi-faceted optics scanning the area as Minerva joined
him outside the cockpit. Deftly, she slid the door closed and pulled down a
magnetic bar, locking it securely.
"Waspinator sees nothing," the wasp buzzed quietly.
"Same here..." Quietly, with a sidestep, she crept to the Roadrunner in the
middle of the hold and eased open the door, taking out her sword. Shaking off
the sheathe, her human guise melted away as she held the large claymore
one-handed, giving the appearance of it being grossly off-balanced.
There was a slight hiss from the airlock beyond.
"Shit...we're being boarded," the draconian cursed.
Waspinator's antennae drooped, readying a barb for firing.
The two stayed behind the car, both breathing somewhat shallowly as they awaited
to see what was behind the other compartment. Waspinator's mandibles quivered, a
slight clicking that was undetectible from the slight creaking of the dead ship
floating in space. Minerva's grey eyes stared straight ahead, narrowed.
The airlock doors slid apart, and three figures marched out in full armour of
some sorts, appearing more early Dark Ages with more futuristic modifications.
They appeared unarmed.
"Sir," the one on the right addressed the middle figure. "I am detecting one
mechanoid nearby."
Waspinator eeped quietly, ducking his head as his antennae and mandibles
trembled in fear.
"Very well then," the center person, obviously the leader, nodded curtly. "We
shall deal with these lower lifeforms quickly, and take the boy back to
Nebulos."
"Shit, they even sound like stereotypical villians from an old '80s cartoon
show," Minerva hissed, leaping into the air and landing on the roof of her car,
her sword pointed towards the Nebulons. "Hey, boys. Hate to break it to you, but
this is a private party."
"For which we have invitations, I assure you, whatever you are," the leader
smiled. In the dim lighting from the emergency lamps, it was difficult to
actually see any solid features save that the boarders were the size of
well-built human males, standing nearly six and a half-feet tall. From
experience, Minerva knew the Nebulons as beings with a rare ability to produce
melanistic chlorophyll, which explained their green hues. Later, she would
actually ponder how a race which evolved from plant-like creatures ever became
one as mechanically inclined without becoming a mechanoid race itself.
At the moment, however, Minerva rolled her eyes with a groan.
"My god! Cobra Commander had better lines than you!" she chided. "Let me put it
to you a simpler way for you to understand. Get lost."
"Hand over the boy and no harm will come to you or your mechanical servant."
"Over my dead body," the draconian woman snarled, slashing out her sword to a
lunge position. "I was hired to get the boy to safety from the likes of you."
Waspinator's trembling at the point morphed from fear to anger.
"Waspinator no one's servant! Waspinator chooses to help Minniebot! Waspinator
his own person!" He cried out, taking to the air and firing off a volley of
barbs towards the three Nebulons.
"My lord!" the one on the left dove, shoving the leader out of the way as he
took three of the barbs to his shoulder and back. The other guard jumped out of
the way, locking gazes with the flying Predacon.
"Damn, I expected that!" Minerva chortled, crouching and almost shoving off when
she listened to Waspinator's suddenly strangled whimper as he crashed to the
ground.
"My dear mercenary," the Nebulon lord stood, pushing the dying guard from her
person. "You must understand why we have no need to carry weapons." With a wave,
he stepped once towards them. "If you kill me, your simpleton friend's core
processor will be wiped. Hand over the boy, and no harm will come towards either
one of you."
"Waspy...?" she hissed, just as the wasp Transformer stood jerkingly, optics
seemingly blank.
"He is under my control," the leader explained. "He will do everything I tell
him to, including killing you. Waspinator, stand guard."
The Predacon did nothing, only stood there, a dead, zombie-like state.
"Waspinator, I give you a direct order. Obey it."
The robot's mandibles suddenly twitched. For an instant, it almost looked like
he was...smirking?
"Waspinator!" Both the Nebulon leader and Minerva snapped.
"Self preservation program, activated." A shrill, all-too-familiar voice to
Minerva emitted from Waspinator's mouth as Waspinator stood rigid, firing at the
second guard before leveling the pistol at the leader's head.
"Starscream?" Minerva hissed, her optics narrowed.
"Not quite." To the remaining Nebulon, Waspinator cracked another, more
noticable smirk. "This program is designed to protect this shell until its
mission is complete. It gives Waspinator failsafes against your control,
Nebulon. I give you two choices: leave me to complete my mission, or die."
"You frighten me not, program," the Nebulon sneered. "Eventually, I'll find how
you work, how you function, and I will hack you, destroy you....and Waspinator
as well."
"Promises, promises." Waspinator fired another barb between the adversary's
eyes, then turned cooly to Minerva, who was still expressing a state of shock.
"Come on, Ryder. We've got a delivery to make."
A laser blast suddenly rocked the ship, sending both sentients staggering.
"Wonderful," Minerva growled. "Thanks, Starscream. I was trying to be
diplomatic."
"Technically, I'm not Starscream," Waspinator snarled, picking up the woman and
half-dragging her back to the cockpit. "Luke! Bring all weapons online and fire
at will!"
"Starscream?" the muffled voice questioned.
"I'll explain on the way! Just get weapons online, then engines! Ryder, open
this door at once!"
"For someone who claims not to be Starscream, you're sure acting like him," the
draconian snapped, forcing open the door.
"Do not toy with me, Ryder. I know what is going to happen. And unless you wish
to cause a paradox and destroy all of the multiverse, you will listen to me."
"And what makes you think that if I listen to you--"
"We don't have the time for this!" he shrieked, shoving the woman into the
bridge. "Get on gunner. I'll take the helm."
"So that's what Waspinator meant," Luke whispered.
"Correct, Luke," Waspinator nodded. "I am, technically, still Waspinator.
However, when Starscream possessed me initially three hundred years in the
future--though it was in fact two million years in the past--he left behind a
failsafe program, so that if he could not complete his plans, then I would carry
on in his stead."
"Guns online!" Luke barked suddenly. Minerva, once again in her human guise,
whooped, pulling down the gunsite and scanning once more for the other ship.
Another blast swayed the Shrike's Cry violently.
"Damn!" Waspinator took hold of the steering and booted up the engines. "Luke, I
need all availible power to engines, right now!"
"Why would Starscream help us, then?" Minerva demanded bluntly as she opened
fired on the now-locked on command ship.
"A common goal, of course, as well as a future that benefits me. And a deal,"
Waspinator glared at Luke. "Galvatron will fall by extensions of my hand--"
"So Art's little rebellion will pull through," Minerva stated.
"Of course. Even in my simpleton mode, I could have told you that. However, even
though my Predacon takeover was thwarted, I still was the only Predacon to have
survived the Beast Wars, free to do as I wished. And now I'm here." As he
talked, a few more switches were thrown as he took hold of the steering, banking
sharply on the yaw axis. "Looks like the calvary has arrived." With a slight nod
to his right, he indicated the small slivers of metal racing towards their
location.
"Tailgate!" Minerva shouted. 'It's about time!"
"A little too late, I would say," Waspinator smirked. "It seems we had gained
the upper hand when that idiot Nebulon tried controlling me."
"So, if Waspinator you are, indeed, do you mind switching back to his more
charming personality, please?" Minerva questioned. "Simple it may be, I can
trust it more than I trust one Starscream programmed."
"I'm hurt, Ryder. Really, I am." There was an abrupt powerdown sequence, and
Waspinator slouched in his chair. A whirling sound, then the Windows start-up
music, and his optics came back online. "Waspinator hate when Waspinator does
that. Waspinator apologize to Minniebot and Lukiebot."
"That was weird," Luke stated.
"Shrike's Cry, this is Tailgate," the gruff, no-nonsense voice of Drez
called out on the intercomm. "What's your situation?"
"Tailgate, we have three dead Nebs in our hold, two hunks of metal that used to
be Neb ships, and one more that's giving us a hard time," Minerva retorted. "I'm
having difficulty locking onto it!"
"Affirmative. Ravenwing has it sighted and is in persuit."
"Careful, old wolf! Those bastards shut down this ship! No telling what they
would do with the suits!"
"Noted, Minnie. We'll take care of it. You just get the kid back to base and
the busboy back into the kitchen."
"Will do! Shrike's Cry, out!" To Waspinator, she ordered, "Take us home,
babe! And I don't wanna hear that damned program again!"
"Waspinator happily comply!" the wasp chirped, bringing the engines to full
throttle and set an automated course for Sirius II.
Flipping her own radio switch, she then hailed Four Winds. "Darxtar, Shrike's
Cry coming home, with some damage. Get the garage bay ready. On that note,
better have the back room booked for two solar cycles' time. Big meeting, if you
catch my drift."
"Gotcha, Minnie. Will have everything ready for you when you get back. Four
Winds out."
"Luke, is the Neb cruiser following?" she then asked.
"Nope. Looks like your buddies are taking care of them quite easily." Luke
turned in his seat to face her. "What are those ships they're flying?"
"They're mobile suits called transtectors. Based on the Cybertronian
transformation technology. Single-operator controls, no intelligence of their
own. They're mass-produced on Sirius for the government, but of course, with
Drez's connections, he was able to get a whole slew of them for 'police' use
around Four Winds property. Tailgate's mostly flight suits made for short space
fighting. Vengeance must be around somewhere."
"Vengeance?" Luke questioned.
"It's the transtector launch ship. Operated by Drez's youngest wife, Trin,
probably the best pilot from Sirius." Minerva leaned back in her seat, though
her eyes never leaving the view screen. "Waspy, about that program...could you
tell us more about it, and why Starscream left it there, in your own words?"
"From that Ghostbot tell Waspinator, Ghostbot needed shell to work through. Used
Waspinator's shell. Waspinator found out about program when antbot attack
prettykittybot...Waspinator felt complied to aid prettykittybot."
"From what I can tell, 'Prettykittybot' is Artemis, or some aspect of her,"
Minerva interjected. "I never knew what the hell was between those two. If they
weren't trying to kill each other, they were making out in the back corner of
the bar."
"Ah, so she was his girlfriend!" Luke smirked.
"Both would deny it," the woman chuckled. "I think it was more of a mutual pact.
Considering the fact of Art's one damning trait is that she's blindingly loyal
to Starscream--"
"And she's an Autobot?" Luke blinked. "How the hell does that happen?"
"They knew each other before the Wars on Cybertron," Minerva explained. "And
though she was built Autobot, she sided with the Decepticons, at least until she
found out Megatron wasn't after bringing Cybertron together. So she went
freelance. Stuck around Darxtar's establishment, Brainstorms, an Old Port
Polyhex-based bar where she hired on as a mercenary. Enough backstory. Waspy,
continue."
"Prettykittybot still loyal to Ghostbot." His antennae sagged again.
"But....prettykittybot nice to Waspinator. Not slag him when had chance.
Waspinator confused by prettykittybot."
"A bit hung up on this prettykittybot, eh, Waspy?" Luke chuckled. "She must have
been some looker."
"Knowing Art?" Minerva chuckled. "She stops bar brawls just by walking up to the
counter and ordering a beer. You don't need to be Cybertronian to know she's a
hot number, Autobot or Decepticon."
"Artybot look even better when Prime," Waspinator pointed out, then eeped.
Minerva stared at her green and gold companion, blinked, and shook her head.
"I'm not even gonna ask how that happened. Probably for a cheap upgrade, knowing
her."
"Erm....Waspinator said too much."
"Waspy is under a code of temporal silence," Minerva illustrated for Luke.
"Unless he is talking to Drez, me, Darxtar, or any other higher-up member of
Four Winds, he can't say anything that would jeopardize time and space as we
know it."
"I see," the red-haired man nodded slowly.
"So, back to the program, Waspy."
"Waspinator confused about this part. Ghostbot told Waspinator that Waspinator
tells Ghostbot what happens, and Ghostbot goes back and tells Waspinator. That
all Waspinator understands. That's what program's main mission." the wasp's
mandibles quivered again. "Waspinator not totally understand."
"Endless cycle. Waspinator, what was the last thing you remember about the Beast
Wars?"
"'Beast Wars?'" Luke questioned.
"It was the war that Waspinator and the other Predacons fought. Though it was in
the future, per se, they actually fought it in the past due to the new transwarp
technology they're working on now."
"Maximals won. Other Predacons destroyed. Dragonbot taken back to Cybertron to
face charges. Waspinator left behind."
"So the good guys won," Luke pointed out, "but it's going according to
Starscream's plan?"
"Affirmative," Waspinator nodded. "Crabbot a threat to Ghostbot's existence."
"New character introduced," Minerva warned. "Who's Crabbot, Waspy?"
"Crabbot scary," Waspinator whispered, almost terrified to be speaking of such.
"Maximals tried to make another Ghostbot spark. Failed. Created Crabbot. Crabbot
make Ghostbot look like Autobot. Ghostbot not twisted like Crabbot."
"Okay, Crabbot bad. Got it." Luke exclaimed.
"Continue, Waspy."
"When Crabbot destroyed, but killing prettykittybot's friend fishybot--"
"I'm really having difficulty following him," the man stated.
"Waspy, why don't we continue this back home?" Minerva then suggested. "I think
we're all a bit tired from this entire ordeal. I need a beer and a shower, and I
bet Luke would like to get some rest after all that happened to him today."
"I'm running on pure adreneline right now," the newcomer smiled brightly.
Minerva only grinned, leaning back into her chair, just as Darxtar's voice
hailed thought the sound system.
"Shrike's Cry cleared for docking in Repair Bay 2. Welcome home, Minnie."
***
The two femmes stepped out of the transport, five seconds before Skyfire
transformed.
"I never thought I would see this place again," Artemis stated coolly as
she gazed up at the tall metal spires of the city before her.
"Nonetheless, Artemis, welcome home," Skyfire smiled, clapping a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks, big guy," the corner of her mouth turned upward, almost shyly.
"Artemis!"
The sharp beckon caused the black femme's head to snap forward, locking optics onto the Autobot leader on Cybertron, Elita One, striding towards them, with Chromia flanking her on her right.
Stormrave stood slightly at attention as Artemis nodded informally. "Elita. So what do you need me for to pull me from my detention?"
"You weren't under detention, Artemis," Elita shook her head. "You were allowed to do as you pleased--"
"As long as I had an escort, yes," the taller femme corrected with a smirk. "So, back to my original question..."
"The Decepticon, yes." Elita turned, indicating for the three to follow her. Chromia gave Artemis nothing more than an untrusting glare. "He won't talk. All we know is that he's part of this Vengeance Posse. Kup informed us you know of them."
"Unfortunately." She scoffed. "And he won't talk. Must be sober for once. Do you know which one it is?"
"Again, he's been keeping silent. He's a dark blue and violet Seeker--"
"Sidewinder," Artemis answered. "Not the brightest in the bunch. Wouldn't know what 'interrogation' was even if you read him the definition. Did you threaten to cut off his interface unit?"
The five Autobots halted. Stormrave fought a snicker, Skyfire seemed shocked, Chromia blinked a few times, and Elita only gave Artemis a rather exasperated look.
Artemis retained a stone serious expression.
"I can't say I actually thought of that one," the pink femme replied, slightly deadpan.
"Didn't think you would. Even if you did, Sidewinder's difficult to intimidate. He wouldn't take an Autobot seriously." Artemis continued the trek, the others falling into step, with Elita taking up her right.
"And that's why we had you come home." Chromia directed forcefully.
"Ah, yes, intimitating stupid Decepticons is my specialty," the black femme chortled with a bounce in her step. "Poor Galvie. He was intimitated by me. His loss, Autobot's gain."
"Nice to see your sense of humour's still in tact." A grin flickered across Elita's face.
"I've got a trillion and one Minion insults. Almost as many as how many I have for Magnus," Artemis winked, giving Elita a slight, friendly punch to the shoulder. "So, let's go see what I can do to get some answers out of Sidewinder, then."
On Earth, the advantage of being small was thwarted by the fact the denizens there were of equal or lesser standing as the spy cassettes.
Back on Cybertron, however, Rumble had no problems whatsoever slipping into the ventalation systems of Iacon undetected. A few low-grade shorts to the alarm system, and anyone who was monitoring the grid would have seen only a minor variance in power output, but still operating at normal. Here, he could walk upright in the duct without hunching over, as he did back on earth. It was quite comforting, in a way.
Listening intently to the echoes within the vents, he carefully evaluated his situation. He had entered the defense hub of Iacon; he would have to find Frenzy, get the hell out of Dodge, as the humans say, and head to Polyhex through the mass transit system underground. Then, activate the space bridge and poof! Back to Charr. Theoretically, a well-oiled plan, according to Galvatron.
The idiot.
Pausing, Rumble furrowed his brow. Activating his low-frequency communicator, geared only for close-range communications between Soundwave and the other spy cassettes, he emitted a series of high-speed buzzes and clicks. If the Autobots did catch wind of the frequency, they would probably think it was some sort of interference. The downside was that it had a bad delay due to the low wavelength of the frequency. It might be thirty clicks or more before Frenzy picked up the transmission, if he did at all.
Swiftly, he picked up the pace, wondering if Frenzy had any more luck than he.
What would the boss do if he found out about the coup? Would he tell Galvatron? If Soundwave was one thing, he was extremely loyal to the Decepticon cause. But was he loyal to the leader alone? Or did he even care who led, just as long as he led the Decepticons?
Sooner or later, the spy master was going to find out.
And, as stable as Soundwave was, the virus would make him unpredictable.
That much was for certain.
Another series of clicks and buzzes entered his auditory sensor. Automatically, the code was deciphered.
"Rumble, I'm in Mass Transit Station 4-Delta, about fifteen klicks northeast of your current posistion. The Autobots know nothing more than we do."
"I'll meet you in a half-megacycle, then. I did pick up some new information. Will tell you when we meet up. Rumble, out." Cutting transmission, he backtracked to an junction and turned right, towards what he knew would lead him downwards eventually, to the local sub station. Prime-Alpha, if he remembered correctly. From there, he could hop a train to 4-Delta.
No problem.
***
She was used to the stares. Stares of accussation, of mistrust, of surprise and wonder, even. She had been there before.
Chromia and Stormrave were both excused to their on-planet duties, and Skyfire was asked to remain within the hub.
Artemis had to chuckle at that. Poor guy. Was it mere infactuation or just the need to know more about what she had been up to those long stellar cycles past. Oh well.
By the time they reached the detention center, her only companion was Elita One.
And, of course, the presense of her personal rival hovering near her left shoulder.
She longed to get to Four Winds. As soon as this ordeal was over, she could have a drink, chat with Ritter, and get down to some real, important business.
The moment she laid optics on the Seeker on the other side of the force grid, sulking with his arms crossed over his chest, she laughed heartfully. This caused the prisoner to swing his head towards the two femmes, his optics wide in almost fright.
"Well, hello, Sidewinder!" Artemis greeted brightly, striding up to the force grid with a wide smile. "Fancy meeting you here!"
"What the hell are you doing here?!" he drawled, staring at her chest. "Nice paintjob. Emblem's a little messed up..."
"Cut the slag, Sidewinder," the black femme ordered, the smile never leaving her face. "Got a couple of questions for you. Feel like answering them?"
"Ain't telling you a thing, traitor," Sidewinder narrowed his optics.
"Oh, now I am a traitor? Last I checked, so were you, being loyal to Starscream. Wouldn't that make you a traitor too, to Galvatron? Hmmm?"
"Alas, they were too stupid for my interests," Starscream hissed in her auditory.
"Would have made good gun fodder," Artemis suggested flippantly. Sidewinder, only hearing her voice, seemed confused as he hopped from one leg to the other, nervously. "So, old buddy, mind telling me why you guys attacked the moonbase?"
"Autobots just ask to get their tailpipes kicked!" Sidewinder protested.
"Oh, and that would explain why you're in there and I'm out here, I see..." With a slight nod, she then added, "How about go one on one with me, then, and we'll see about that."
"I don't think so," Sidewinder snapped. "You fight dirty."
"And you don't?"
"It's a different principal!"
"Oh, shut up and answer my questions, or I swear, I won't be nice anymore." Losing her smile, she glared through the bars. "What did Sonyx hope to accomplish by attacking a base on the home advatage as you guys were grossly outnumbered?"
"I don't have to tell--"
Artemis's palm slammed into the force grid, sending bright blue sparks through the network, startling Sidewinder again.
"Would you like it if I had Elita there retract this shield? I'll show you exactly what I would do if I got my hands on Sonyx, how's that?"
"Funny you should mention that," the Seeker winced. "'Cuz that's exactly why she was looking for you."
"Ah, so all this was to blow off steam because she couldn't find me, eh?" With another chuckle, she shook her head, then met Sidewinder's gaze coldly. "I grow tired of your stupidity, frankly. I can see why Starscream thought you imbecilic motorheads with no real clue of the universe around you!"
"You were--are!--nothing but a lowly Autobot! You did not deserve the posistion granted to you! For that alone--"
"Shut up," she ordered curtly. "So, where is your little base of operations now?"
"None of your damn business!"
"Elita?" Artemis reached down and unhooked her rifle from her leg. "Open the grid. I'm gonna shoot off each limb till he tells me."
"You wouldn't!" the Seeker cried out.
"Ask yourself if I wouldn't," the black femme growled. "You know I would..."
"Reicere!"
"What was that?"
"Reicere...! We're based on the Rejected planet of Reicere!"
Artemis nodded somewhat, hitching her rifle back to her leg, before turning back to Elita One.
"A word with you alone," she hissed, as the two exited, leaving Sidewinder alone in the hold.
Once they were out of earshot, Artemis leaned against the wall, staring more at her old friend's feet as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Anything else you want from him?" she demanded. "Because I would like to send him home to Sonyx with a message."
"I'm afraid we can't do that," Elita One retorted, a little too sharply, betraying her mistrust.
"Didn't think you would. But if Sonyx is one thing, she's persistant. If we don't make the point to her that we are not to be screwed with--"
"Would she side with Galvaton?"
"Never. She hates Galvatron more than she hates me. To side with him would render her vengeance null. And for her, she holds grudges, a little too long at that."
"Why would you want to let him go, then?"
"As I said before, to deliver a message. Do you know where Reicere is?"
"It...isn't familiar in our cartographical files, no."
"Didn't think so. I've only got an inkling, from some friends who didn't want to live under Sirian laws and ended up there. It's somewhere within a fifty parsec radius of Sirius II, that's about as much as I know. And as stupid as Sidewinder is, he won't tell us where it is, either, no matter what I threaten him with. Sonyx's punishment for telling us exactly where their base is would be much worse than our's if he doesn't."
"So are you suggesting we should let him go and perhaps tag or follow him?"
"Exactly."
Elita One cupped her chin in her hand, gazing downward. Artemis took that click to steal a glance at her old friend.
"I will consider it further, after I talk to the Council. In the meantime, why don't you get some rest? You must be exhausted from your trip."
"I'm used to working all-nighters," Artemis winked, following Elita One back to the command hub.
"Arty, once again, you're scheming and not telling me," Starscream's voice hissed. Before she could react, he added, "No, don't say anything just yet. Wait until we are alone. Anyhow, I think I know what you're up to."
Alone. That may prove difficult. True, she was surrounded by Autobots, perhaps believing that she wouldn't do anything funny in their presense, but their paranoia had escalated after the Great War. Defense, security, surveilance, all upgraded, all over the place.
It made things a bit more of a challenge.
Of course, the wonders of post-tramatic stress made it possible for her to talk to herself without getting so much as a strange look. As long as she kept her voice low enough so that only a ghost could hear her whisper, she rationed, she was in the clear.
She did not receive as much of a luke warm reception as she did when she was brought to Autobot City; perhaps it was due to the fact that most of these Autobots on Cybertron were either built and grew up off-planet after the Great War started or, if they were from the same generation as her or older, knew of her shady alliegence prior to returning, and spread the stories- no doubt stretched--to the younger population.
And yet, they still proved forgiving sorts, allowing her to walk amongst them freely, as long as she had a companion.
Her old friend led her to the guest quarters of the hub, where normally diplomats and ambassadors and whatnot were usually boarded.
Probably to keep her close as possible to maintain tabs on her, she reasoned.
"If you need anything, just buzz security," Elita was explaining, Artemis realising then that she had pretty much missed almost everything the Autobot leader was telling her. Oh, well.
The next chance the black femme got, she bade Elita good night and slipped into the quarters, sliding the door closed before her old friend could bid her the same.
"Now, Arty, that wasn't too nice, now, was it?" Starscream chortled.
Artemis quickly scanned the room, then flopped into a chair in the far corner. Throwing her head back, she stared up at the ceiling blankly.
"What can I say? I'm beat," she retorted, intaking a great breath of air. Following, her voice dipped in volume. "Sonyx hates Galvatron more than she hates me, right?"
"At least she has her priorities straight," her dead companion scoffed.
"I think I shall issue her a challenge."
"And why would you do that?"
"Think about it, flyboy," she sat up, then leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, her head bowed. "I issue her a challenge to meet me at the Four Winds, two solar cycles from now. That will get her interests piqued, however not taking into consideration that I would have the home field advantage."
"Continue."
"If our courier goes directly as planned, then by the time she gets there, our buddies will have arrived as well, granting me a hefty number of sentients on our side. Rather than fight, I will issue to her a compromise--"
"--Inviting her to side in a coup in the name of the true leader of the Decepticons!" Starscream's voice hit an epiphany, an almost joyful tone.
"Regardless of our past, her loyalty to you is pretty strong, nonetheless."
"As much of imbicilic morons they all are."
Artemis looked up at the spot where Starscream willed himself visible.
Sharing a smirk, they both commented, "Gun fodder," before Artemis leaned back in her chair.
"I just hope that Elita One takes your bait," the spectre commented. "Or else, that plan is for naught."
"You know me, Flyboy," she smiled devilishly. "If one plan falls through, I simply form another to compensate. Speaking of which, don't you have something you need to do now? Like make sure our courier gets to his destination?"
"You are not one to give me orders, Artemis," he chided sternly.
"My mistake, I apologize."
"Feh." His presense dispersed abruptly, leaving Artemis once again alone.
"At last, some rest," she sank deeper into the chair, considering for a click to actually move over to the recharge bed, but decided against it, slipping into her sleep cycle quickly.
***
"Better get in the kitchen before Drez gets in, Waspy," the female ordered as she arched her back. The wasp creature nodded, then zipped to the back room. "Hey, Darxtar, any messages while I was out?"
The Decepticon chuckled, winking his good eye.
"Been pretty quiet around here since the Nebs left two solar cycles ago. So," with a nod, he pointed his square chin to Luke, "that the kid all this fuss is about?"
"This is Luke MacArin. Luke, this is Darxtar, Drez's original partner in crime before I hooked up with him. He used to manage the mercks from Cybertron."
"Slottin' Autobots changed that," Darxtar retorted gruffly, pulling a rag the size of a bed sheet and wiping down the counter. "Brainstorms was neutral; I allowed both Bots and Cons to come in...but they kicked me out anyway after the Great War ended." With a chuckle, he shrugged. "Drez took me in, so to speak. I get to push around the idiots who try starting trouble." He looked down at the blonde female. "Somehow, you bringing him here means there's more problems than just the Nebs."
"Baen Sidhe, too," Minerva hissed. "You don't know about them, old friend, but they're a tad bit nastier than the Nebulons. The plus side: they can't leave Earth. Anchored by her magic, so to speak."
"Slottin' magic," Darxtar snorted. "No such thing."
"True," Minerva remarked, "but it's all science unexplained, nonetheless. Anywho, Luke's safer here than on Earth, though I might have to lay low from Earth for a while. I don't know how long the fog I casted on Detective Lovecraft will last; hopefully, it will be enough to erase the connections between me and Arty. Oh! Speaking of which, the We Hate Galvie The Lunatic Club's gonna be meeting in two solar cycles here. We need the back room cleared out for them, and the back door unlocked if the need be."
"I know all about that kind of stuff. Had to help the Autobots I tolerated in the event of a Megatron raid, remember?" Darxtar guffawed. "So my favourite lass is still kicking; great news. I knew Galvie couldn't ace her like he did that idiot she always hung around with."
"Um..." Luke coughed. "If 'that idiot' is Air Commander Starscream, then that's not entirely true."
Darxtar glared down at the human, appearing less like the jovial bartender he was a couple of clicks past and more like an war-scarred soldier burdened by ghosts of the past.
"What," the old Decepticon growled, "did you say, meat?"
Luke backed up somewhat, closer to Minerva. Unlike the Air Commander, this guy was very much alive and running.
"Apparently," Minerva cleared her throat, jumping to Luke's defense, "Starscream's ghost is still able to converse with Art--and Luke here as well. Looks like Screamer and Art are heading this little coup, even if he's corpereally challeneged at the present."
"Slot." Darxtar bowed his heavy head. "He's gonna get her killed. I know it."
"Well, you know damn well she's gonna do her own thing to manipulate him just as much as he does to her. Luke, hunny," Minerva patted his shoulder. "Will you go help out Waspy in the kitchen? I know you just got here, but me and Darxtar--and Drez, when he gets here--need to discuss things of a rather metatemporal level."
"Yeah, sure," Luke agreed, silently thankful. Darxtar gave him a bit of the creeps anyway. It probably would be more benefituary if he laid low until he got a little more used to the Decepticon behind the counter. Quietly, he ventured past the bar and into the kitchen, where Waspinator, still in beast mode, was zipping from the sink to the large floor-to-ceiling cupboard on the other side of the vast room with armloads of plates and glasses.
"Hey, Waspy," Luke greeted as the doors closed behind him, shutting him away from the common room. "Need some help?"
Waspinator started somewhat, dropping a load of dinner plates. Deftly, he swooped, gathering most of them, two shattering on the tile floor. With a defeated sigh, the Predacon shoved the remaining plates onto a shelf ten feet up and glanced down at the broken shards, shaking his head slowly.
"Lukiebot startled Waspinator," the wasp chided meekly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Luke apologized. "Minnie and Darxtar wanted to talk alone. I thought maybe you could use some help back here."
"Waspinator appreciate Lukiebot's kindness." The green and gold Transformer hovered near the human, as if examining him for the first time. "Lukiebot not need to be so nice to Waspinator. Only Minniebot nice to Waspinator. Darkbot and bossbot gruff with Waspinator, but they treat Waspinator okay."
Taking off his jacket, Luke experimentally patted Waspinator's head, between the antennae, as he had seen Minerva do before leaving earth.
"And why wouldn't I be nice to you?" he questioned, tossing the cammie jacket to a nearby chair and pushing up his sleeves somewhat. "I've seen too many mean people in my life to know I don't want to be like them."
"Waspinator been around mean people all existence," the insect resumed his trek to the the sink, where Luke followed. "Even Maximals mean to Waspinator. Prettykittybot wasn't, though."
"So, how was this Prettykittybot in relation to the Autobot chick Minnie hung around with?"
Waspinator, with six beer mugs in hand, blinked his multi-faceted optics, almost surprised.
"Lukiebot promise not to tell anyone?"
"Promise."
"Cross fuel pump and swear to go offline?"
"I swear."
"Prettykittybot was Artybot...but Artybot almost get slagged by enemy...so Artybot got reformatted to Prettykittybot." With a whimper, Waspinator relinquished his load and buzzed back to the sink. "Ghostbot told me everything...Waspinator believes Ghostbot has more on his agenda...."
"Wouldn't that create a paradox?" Luke questioned, picking up a stack of plates and hefting them over to the far wall.
"Waspinator knows not...all Waspinator knows is everything going to Ghostbot's plan." His antennae drooped. "Which scares Waspinator."
"Don't blame you on that one," Luke hissed.
Waspinator remained silent as he continued to work, his antennae shivering somewhat. When the dishes were all put away, Waspinator peeked out of the dutch doors and nodded somewhat.
"Bossbot back. Waspinator takes break now." The wasp buzzed back towards Luke. "Waspinator show Lukiebot to room, okay?"
"Yeah, sure..." Luke agreed, grabbing his jacket. "I get my own room?"
"Affirmative. Bossbot give room and board to employees. Part of pay. Also get protection. Waspinator in trouble, Waspinator count on Tailgate or Merc Guild to get Waspinator out. Waspinator like that. Waspinator like being part of something big."
"Well, if Drez's got a place for an experienced hacker, I think I could deal with the setup," the human stated as he followed Waspinator up a spiral, open metal stairway extending up from the far corner of the kitchen.
"Bossbot likes diversity."
"That much is obvious." The stairs were worn and creaky, yet seemed stable enough to support Luke's weight as he ventured upward, tailing the wasp who simply darted up through the hole in the ceiling thirty feet up. "So overall, you like working here?"
"Waspinator does, but Waspinator miss Cybertron." Luke noticed his antennae sag once more. "But Cybertron now isn't Cybertron Waspinator comes from. Cybertron still Autobot/Decepticon. Waspinator wouldn't know anything, anywhere, anyone..." With another whimper, he added, "Waspinator all alone...."
"You've got us," Luke retorted.
Waspinator looked back at the human, his expression brightening.
"Waspinator never had friends before," he explained. "Other Predacons thought Waspinator simpleton, idiot, because of speech program. Waspinator far from dumb. Waspinator know things about what to come...Waspinator understand greater scheme of things." Luke found himself on a smaller floor, built to accomodate beings of his size. Metal sliding doors ran along both walls, but the rest of the decor gave a more rustic, homey feeling with wood panelling that seemed to be a dark cedar, but smelled faintly like cinnamon.
"This is boarding floor," Waspinator explained in a hushed tone. "Where employees and guild members stay."
Luke nodded as he glanced at a couple of doors to his right, one bearing a symbol, four pointed star, the other, a horizontal heavy sword with the tip pointing to the right, both etched in the metal and painted.
"What are those symbols for?" he then asked. Waspinator backpedalled a bit and shook his head.
"Those Guild signias. Star is Northstar. Sword is Tailgate."
"Tailgate's that fighter patrol that helped us escape the Nebulons."
"Affirmative. Tailgate also hire out. Bodyguards, whatnot."
"So what's Northstar?"
"Assassin Guild. They not all real friendly as other guilds."
The door with the star suddenly hissed open, and Luke found himself being stared down by the first Sirian he had ever seen. Black as night, she was most definitely female, lithe and delicate-featured though portraying an air of street-tough; she could have been mistaken for nude, save the glint of the black, hard leader corset and brassiere, sodpiece, and thigh high boots. Her eyes, one dark gold, the other light blue, expressed nothing less than irritation.
"Will you keep it down out here?" she growled, her voice low and throaty. "Some of us don't have the pleasure of working days, you know."
"I...I'm sorry..." Luke apologized, backing into Waspinator. "I wasn't--"
"Buggy, who is this spaz?" the lupine female demanded, her sharpened gaze shifting to the Predacon.
"This Luke MacArin," Waspinator introduced. The Sirian again glared down at the human.
"This can't be what Drez has been all worried about with the Nebs," she then scoffed. "He's just skin and bones, street punk, hardly worth anything." With a shrug, she added, "Sorta like me before coming here. I'm Brin, Drez's second wife. Glad to see the mission was a success. Even Shon had her doubts. Anyway, is Drez back yet?" This, she directed back at Waspinator.
"Affirmative. Talking to Darkbot and Minniebot now in common room."
"About what, I don't want to know," another voice, gruff and scarred, announced from behind them. "Sounds like something's screwing with the metatemporal streams again."
Luke turned to view the voice, only slightly shocked to see another human, this one a large, broadshouldered man with long black and silver hair plaited behind him, a baseball cap shoved roughly over his brow. He donned a tight-fitting black Tool tee-shirt and tattered jeans, topped off with black combat boots. Dark-complected, Luke guessed Native American, though his eyes were mediterranian blue.
"Luke MacArin," he then nodded. "I'm Raff Ravenwing, Tailgate's guildmaster. See you've already met the Four Winds tart, Brin."
"Quiet, you," Brin chided. "What would Drez say if he heard you say that about me?"
"He's the one who said it," Raff chortled. "So, Buggy, you giving our new buddy the grand tour?"
"Affirmative," Waspinator nodded again. "Waspinator showing Lukiebot to his room."
"Afterwards, mind heading to the hangar? My MS is a bit rough with the shift to jet."
"Affirmative," this time, his affirmation was more of a defeated sigh.
"Oh, you can stop the guilt trip, Buggy...it's either that or dish duty."
"Waspinator already does dish duty!" he whined.
"MS?" Luke then questioned.
"Mobile Suit. My term for the transtector Tailgate," Raff smirked. "What, you wanna join Tailgate or something? With your build, you'd be better suited for Northstar."
"With all the racket he makes? Uh-uh," Brin shook her head. "Probably he's make it better as a Spiral or Blackheart."
"I think I'll take your word for it," Luke chuckled, confused, as he edged away from the Sirian and human. "You know, I'm really getting a bit tired...all this excitement, y'know..."
"Buggy, go show this kid his room before he passes out here," Brin ordered. "My bet, he snores."
"So you're telling me the bastard put a dormant program in Waspinator?" The large grey biped wolf demanded, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Darxtar, still at the counter, had served his two organic companions prefered drinks--rye and Coke for Minerva, Cerebus Stout for Drez--and was nursing his own energon lager, listening intently to the conversation.
"Yep. Gotta admit, old wolf, Starscream's intelligent, if impatient." Minnie took a quick sip from her whiskey glass. "This program flares up in Waspy when he's in danger."
"Meaning Starscream wants him to remain alive," Drez nodded thoughtfully. "But why?"
"Got me. The only person who would know would be Starscream, and even then, Starscream from Waspinator's time, not ours. And it has something to do with Art."
"Which we can't confront her about Waspinator because he said so himself--she has direct confrontation with him in the future. Not now. What he knows of her as Artemis is history." The Sirian growled somewhat, tapping his foot against the bar of the stool.
"What about Ritterkruez?" Draxtar suggested bluntly, taking a deep pull from his bottle.
"He was around during the Beast Wars, in his own linear time," Minerva arched her brow.
Drez tapped his jaw. "Good point...but he doesn't like to talk to people."
"Leave him to me," the Decepticon nodded. "He doesn't talk much, but I think I would be able to get some information out of him."
"If he's not chasing Quints," the female pointed out. "Man, we're going around in circles...it seems a lot of our topics lately are looping back to Arty."
"Or Starscream," Darxtar added.
"It's a bit unsettling, yes," Drez interjected. "I don't like the sense of this...as much as I love the girl, trouble follows her in hordes. Especially when coupled with Starscream. And I particularly don't like the way the cosmic Order is laying its cards, either."
"We should call a Nexus moot," Minerva retorted, "if you think that this may threaten the multiverse at a cosmic level."
"I don't want to resort to that just yet," Drez shook his head. "Only if it's the only avenue we have left. For right now, we keep the bug in the kitchen, the kid out of sight, and continue on with the original plan."
"Which still involves my girl," Darxtar exclaimed.
"This was her decision, Darxtar," Minerva chided, "not the cosmic Order's."
"Regardless," the lupine cleared his throat, "we've got Nebs, Minions, and Rokkans to worry about. Let's keep it at that. At least your damn Sidhe are bound to Terra." Jestingly, he poked Minerva's shoulder.
"So our next order of business is to find out what exactly Luke is," she swiped playfully at Drez's hand. "And to find out more information on the whereabouts of his mother. Unfortunately, if she isn't bound to Earth like other full and some half Sidhe, she's going to be tough to locate. As well as me laying low from Earth for a while."
"You slipped up," Drez narrowed his eyes.
"I had a run-in with a dude who was probably the only one in the United States who was nearly immune to my glamour. That's one out of four-hundred-million, Drez. I wouldn't have guessed." With a smirk, she leaned back to the bar, drink in hand. "Anyway, I laid on the charm extra thick. He thinks it's all a dream."
"You better hope." Darxtar snorted. "Humans are idiots, but they're dangerous with any information they learn. If they make the connection between you and Artemis..."
"Again, Detective Lovecraft is doing the LaLaLand stint."
"I believe you, Minnie," Drez replied. "Well, let's get to work. In any case, let's try to keep things operating at normal, but I think we should beef up Tailgate patrols around here in the meantime."
"And Starscream?" Minerva questioned.
Drez took a deep breath.
"Nothing's gonna stop him from getting to Waspinator, it seems," he exhaled forcibly. "There's only very few who can see him, and that's where he lays his advantage. I don't really know how to deal in that situation. Some of the Howl diviners can exorsise ghosts; I really don't have a clue if it will work on him, though. Let me talk to Shon about that."
"In the meantime, stay cool, then," Minerva nodded. "Okay, this is gonna be an interesting couple of days."
"Indeed, it is," Darxtar agreed solemnly, taking another pull of his drink.
***
Known simply as Shockwave's Tower, it was here that Megatron's appointed leader of the Cybertronian-based Decepticons issued orders to the troops in the absense of Megatron.
Now, the Autobots pretty much made it into a pansy museum.
"Galvatron is nuts, have I ever mentioned that?" Frenzy hissed to his brother.
"You're telling me? I'm just hoping Arty pulls through in her part of the bargain," Rumble snorted. "Gives me the creeps that Starscream's ghost is still floating around."
"Who wouldn't?" the red and black spy cassette chortled nervously. "At least he wasn't nuts like Galvatron."
"Doesn't it spook you just knowing he could be listening on this very conversation?"
"Sotp it, Rumble! You're making me paranoid!" Frenzy ordered with a nervous chuckle. "Let's just get home and bring back what you found for the boss. Maybe once he's back and operational, he'll be able to talk some sense into Galvie..."
"Face it...everyone lives in fear of Galvatron. Even Soundwave," Rumble, crouched low, crept to a window low enough for him to peer in. "The only one who doesn't is Cyclonus, and he's pretty much the dude who's running the joint. Now that guy is worse than Starscream...if the Air Commander had that much reign on Megatron as Cyclonus has on Galvatron--"
"We might have won the Great War?" Frenzy questioned, almost innocently, as he followed suit of his brother. "I mean, it was Megatron who wanted to follow the Autobots when we crashed on Earth. Had we followed Starscream's suggestion--"
"It would have been over before it had started," the blue cassette shrugged. "Dunno. I just have this weird feeling that there's some cosmic mumbojumbo involved in everything, y'dig?"
"Thought you didn't believe in that slag."
"I didn't believe Arty when she told me Starscream still existed, as a ghost." Rumble shivered. "This way. We should be coming along the ventilation systems soon."
"And then, we go home!" Frenzy's tone brightened. "It ain't much, but at least it's somewhere."
Rumble did not comment on that; rather, he examined the grate he knelt before, shorting out the alarm system.
"They don't seem too concerned about anyone breaking and entering here," he whispered. "These alarms aren't even up to code."
"Sometimes, those are the more dangerous ones. If one malfunctions and we're inside, it wouldn't matter how careful we are."
"All the more reason to get out of here in A-S-A-slotting-P...." Easing the grate out of the way, Rumble slipped into the duct, waiting for his brother to enter before venturing on. "Shockwave's control center was up two levels."
"Let's go up one more level, then," Frenzy suggested. "We'll enter through the ceiling. That way, if there are Autobots present, we can snipe them rather than popping up from the floor and getting vaped before getting our blasters out."
The two looked at each other for a click, then both drew their lasers.
"Sounds like a plan," Rumble agreed. "Let's go forth and kick ass."
This place gave Apollo the creeps.
He didn't really want to be in Polyhex; but Elita had asked him to do some research, and who was he to refuse a beautiful woman's request? Best place to find anything about Decepticons was the Decepticons command tower.
As much as he loathed this place. Bad memories for the most part; getting beaten up as a kid by bullies from Polyhex every time he went to find his sister, for example. More times than not, if he did find her, they would return home, not even a scratch on her, whereas he would have dents, chips, broken fenders and headlights, even dislocated joints.
Back then, those mean bullies he didn't like became true enemies of the Autobots; some he had recognized as the ones who had kicked him in the back or punched him in the face now fired lasers to kill.
Apollo hated one thing more than Decepticons, and that was violence.
His fingers flying across the keyboard, his only light being the monitor, the sky blue male scanned the database for any mention of Vengeance Posse. Not surprisingly, there was none, though there was one little individual piece of information about Sonyx. Graduate of the War Academy, top ten in her class...yadda yadda yadda...not much on actual war, since there seemed to be nothing noted on any campaigns she participated in...
...hello....
Apollo rubbed his optics to make sure he was reading the last line right.
Psychological evaluation from the war academy...due to an irrepairable glitch in her nueral processor, she suffered from fits of paranoia, violent mood swings, lack of control of her actions...the list continued, concluding with a recommendation by the Decepticon neural surgeon, Mindsurge, to either destroy her or let her loose in Autobot HQ and hope to Primus she slags a Prime before they ace her.
"Sounds like Galvatron himself," Apollo chuckled aloud. "A perfect match for him, I would think." With a blink, he added, "Wonderful, I'm beginning to sound like Art, talking to myself."
Apparently, he thought silently, this Sonyx character was considered dangerous to her own side, even by Decepticon standards. If there was any more information--
There was a sudden noise above his head, however slight.
"Moonracer?" he called out. "Is that you, sweetheart?"
When he didn't receive an answer, he drew his blaster and stood on guard.
"Who's there?" he demanded before taking a step towards the cylindrical structure in the dead center of the large room. His foot falls echoed on the metal floor, almost loud enough to drown out the two thuds behind him. Sharply, he pivoted on the ball of his foot, his blaster aimed in the direction of the noise, only to receive a potent laser beam from floor level to his chest, reeling him back in pain.
"Hey, the dude's familiar!" the red spy cassette remarked, firing another shot, this time at Apollo's feet.
"Looks like a male-designate goodie-two-shoe Arty wannabe!" his companion chortled, rushing to the control panel. "Frenzy, keep him busy! I got work to do!" Adding under his breath, "Okay, Screamer, you better be helping out here...this is, after all, your plan," he started typing feverishly at the controls.
"Hey, Rumble, think I can kill him?" Frenzy demanded as he fired another shot, disarming the sky blue Autobot, before receiving a swift kick to the midsection, sending him back towards the panel.
"I don't know what you're up to, Decepticons," Apollo hissed, standing with a painful grimace, "but you won't get away with it!"
All three were suddenly jolted by the fact all the lights flickered and dimmed, red emergency lamps flaring around the room.
"All systems save the space bridge offline!" Rumble announced. "Frenzy, make like the Undertaker and piledrive the bastard!"
"With pleasure!" Frenzy jumped to his feet, transforming his arms into their piledriving mode. With short bursts, the pneumatic arms hammered at the metal floor, quaking the structure to off-balance the Autobot once more. Swiftly, Rumble turned from his station, fired another shot at Apollo, this time in the leg, and returned to the programming. Frenzy took the advantage to leap upon the Autobot, pounding another series of powerful jabs into his adversary's midsection. A there was an abrupt charge in the air as the cylinder in the center of the room opened in a swirl of gold light.
"That's it! Let's bail!" Rumble shouted, leaping from the control panel and racing to the open space bridge.
"I haven't killed him!"
"No time! The other 'Bots will be here any minute! Let's go!"
Frenzy reverted his arms back to normal, saluted the pained Autobot, and bolted to the bridge after his brother.
Five clicks later, the gold light dispersed, leaving the low red light bathing the ruined room.
Apollo managed to get himself to his hands and knees, spitting a mass of mech fluid.
"Dammit!" Rolling to his back, he grimaced once more in pain, trying to fathom what had just happened.
It was true. Wherever Artemis went, trouble followed.
With another hefty groan, he stood, swaying unsteadily.
"Who would have thought two little shrimps could do so much damage?" he questioned rhetorically before staggering to the control panel. Sinking to one knee, he tapped away, attempting to get the communication grid online.
"Apollo to Iacon Hub, we have a code red," he coughed, spraying more mech fluid on the monitor.
"Chromia here, Apollo. What happened?"
"Decepticons...Rumble and Frenzy...they...they blindsided me, then...then took off in the space bridge to..." He quickly glanced at the space bridge controls, "...back to Charr...Chromia, we have a security breech--where's Artemis? I bet she--"
"Simmer down, Apollo...never mind that now, are you injured?"
"I...function...."
"I'll send Brat Pack and Ranger to retrieve you...in the meantime, just relax...we'll get to the bottom of this..."
"Thanks, sweetheart..." he coughed again, releasing the comm button and falling to his side with a grunt, unaware of his disembodied visitor, who, with a cruel chortle, dispersed with nothing so much as a slight disturbance in the air.
Apollo was woken up by the tiny indigo and gold medic, who was checking his vital signs on a dataport interface.
"How long was I out?" he questioned hoarsely.
"Not long enough to offline you, bloke," Brits retorted. "Some internal damage, but nothing too serious. Mostly cosmetic; did a number with the pile drivers, eh?"
"Don't remind me," the sky blue Autobot growled, attempting to sit up.
"Packrat, Torque, let's get him loaded up and back to Iacon," Brits ordered to the two male-designates standing in the doorway.
"I hate rescue detail," Packrat grumbled for only Torque to hear. He only gave the smaller Autobot's fender a nudge as they helped Brits carefully pick up Apollo and carried him outside to where the blue pickup was waiting. "I'm a scavenger, not a EMT."
"Shut yer bloody trap," Brits ordered to Packrat, before reverting her attention
to Ranger. "Okay, bloke, get him back to Iacon. We'll be right behind you."
(To be continued in Part 2)
Portland Police Department, 16th Precinct
Autobot City
5 km outside Portland
Chapter 5
Portland General Health
Autobot City
North American Intragalactic Spaceport, Northwest
Portland, Oregon
Iacon
Cybertron
Four Winds Bar
Sirius II
The hulk of a Decepticon, dark blue and silver with hints of dark rust-coloured trim propped his head on his hand, staring at the three smaller sentients entering the closed bar.
Polyhex, Cybertron
Two tiny creatures stood on a ledge of what used to be the central building of the Decepticon Empire.