Windcharger's Revenge

By Red Tale

******************************************************************

I joined the five-autobot crew for a simple shuttle trip, transporting energon from Cybertron to one of the outposts on the moon bases. Although the energon supply was precious enough to warrant five-thousand warriors in these time, we hardly had enough energon to supply that (hence it being so precious). The warriors chosen were a mix of notorious fighters and smaller comrades who might remain functional if things got desperate (the unspoken term was "fuel-efficient"). Jazz commanded the ship, he'd gained a lot of experience in combat maneuvers and the principle part of the mission was to avoid fighting and get back to Cybertron safely. Sunstreaker, in a rare appearance with out his twin, kept vigilant watch on the radar, ready to leave the confines of the shuttle and take on the enemy con by con if it ensured the ships safe journey. Bumblebee was there for communication liaison and fuel-efficiency. Ironhide's job was to defend the ship itself at all costs, should it come to being boarded he would take the first wave.

And then there was me. No one was really sure what I could or would do. I'd proven myself a warrior on the battle fields, taking down countless decepticons with a small gun and precise aim. But I've rarely demonstrated my true, primus-given powers of magnetism, something that if used rightly (or even wrongly) could end the war with a single flick of my circuit.

But, for the purposes of this mission, I'm just another fuel-efficient fighter.

"Hey, Sunstreaker, what's that ship in the right field quadrant?", Jazz asked urgently.

"There's nothing on the radar", Sunstreaker replied, his optics narrowing as he looked up from his monitor.

A slight chill streamed through my oil lines. A cloaked ship is never a good sign.

"Battle stations", Jazz whispered, as if the enemy might overhear our plans.

Suddenly the ship was in full view in front of us. It was the most massive ship I had ever seen, all black with a red Decepticon insignia on the side painted with an odd material…Primus, that's transmission fluid. It's actually been coated with the life-force of our sacrificed comrades! Jazz ran to engage the motors for defensive maneuvers, but it was too late. The screen filled with the searing light of their plasma cannons. We were taking a full blast at close range. We would never survive this, and neither would Cybertron.

My optics came back on-line in night-vision mode, all lights having been obliterated, and no noise emitted from the engines. I found myself somehow fully functional. But as I took in my surroundings I wished it were not so. Our ship drifted lifelessly, all parts of it were destroyed save the surface I and my comrades clung too. But my comrades…they were also destroyed. While my optics remained intact to witness the desecration around me, all of theirs were cracked apart. I looked down at my hand, moving my fingers to prove to my unwilling mind that my arm was attached to my body, it was not so with Jazz. But worst of all was the paleness, the grayness, the lifelessness left behind in these carcasses. I'd rather they'd been disintegrated completely than to see them like this.

I turned to the shattered, flickering remains of the screen, thinking that more was too come, these Decepticons were not through with us yet, they wouldn't leave one warrior behind. They would come pouring out to gloat over their victory, and I would take as many apart as I could.

The idea was coming to me to simply tear the ship apart, screw by screw, and everything inside.

But…

The ship was not there. I gingerly approached a large gash torn in the hull of the ship, and observed with my own optics that the ship had left.

It had left…for Cybertron! And I had no way to warn them, the radio was gone and we had no chance to get any communication out.

I couldn't stay here. I had to do something, either get out fast and warn our forces or, if the worst had come, I would have to try and do what I could to avenge them.

But how? I couldn't steer the ship, and in fact it there wouldn't be a ship much longer. The gash in the hull widened with a startling creak, part of the landing gear peeled away, and the floor crumbled under me.

I activated my magnetism to bring some stability while I thought. I could use one piece of metal as a means to fly, and in that way gain mobility. But the ship was so badly damaged, and it wasn't exactly prime material to begin with. I would also need a lot of fuel to accomplish any real vengeance, and alas our small delivery had been lost as well.

The hopelessness of the situation almost overcame me. Suddenly I felt so weak with lack of fuel; sustained use of my powers does that. My optics fell on Jazz's body. While one drop of oil still pumps with in my, I must avenge Cybertron.

Ironically I observed fluid trickling from Jazz's wounds, his missing arms allowed plenty of it to flow freely. It wasn't powering his body anymore, but it could power mine. And he was large enough to power me for a whole-sale onslaught on the Decepticons. With that much energon in reserve I really could rip that ship apart. Or, more importantly, with that much energon I might be able to fly past the ship and reach Cybertron first to warn them.

Once I saw the solution, the moral qualms did not hold me back for long. I wasn't ashamed, but I wasn't going to brag to anyone about how I managed to save them all either. I released my hold on the ship, and devoted my energy to collecting as much oil from Jazz as I could.

By the time that was done one whole side of the ship had fallen away. I didn't want to waste my resources trying to hold it together. I needed better material; I needed a ship worthy of revenge. Something I could add weapons to, but still be small enough to possibly sneak by the monster that had struck us. But where could I possibly get high quality metal stranded out here in space?

Bumblebee's body shifted, pulled by the gravity of a new hole that appeared in the floor. I could almost just use him, I thought, almost laughing at the insane idea of surfing through space on my dead comrade's carcass.

Suddenly the idea wasn't insane. It was completely rational. Build a small ship from their bodies, something just big enough to be able to maneuver through space. What other choice have you got?

I magnetized their remains, bringing them to me and arranging them together so they formed a raft-like surface that I boarded just as the remains of the shuttle collapsed around me. I couldn't think wrong of what I was doing when I thought of my helpless little form drifting along in space while the Decepticons rained terror on my home world.

I was actually impressed with my handy-work. I had located Ironhide's arms and attached them to either side with his weapons facing out, and I could still operate his special guns. I'd always admired his weaponry. And Sunstreaker I used as a sort of mass, the way I had seen in Earth water-ships. Of all the autobots, he really was the best looking, and I thought it might bring some fear to the Decepticons to see him here even if it was only his shell.

On this contraption I zoomed through space, following traces of fuel refuse from the Decepticon Ship that had attacked us. hey led me all the way back home, to Cybertron, and hung heavy in the orbit although I could not see the ship.

I bitterly realized I must be too late. The Decepticon ship must have landed below. Since I didn't observe any signs of fighting, it was clear the ship had landed and already slaughtered all the autobots as easily as they had slaughtered our shuttle crew. Even Optimus Prime couldn't have done anything about that. It was over. The war was over.

I'd so wanted to save them.

The only thing for it now was to kill as many as I can, keep the war going just a little bit longer. My new plan was to sneak into the energon processing plant and blow it up. I flew in low and careful, avoiding detection and observing my surroundings. The area was quiet; few bots were out and about. The Decepticons had probably moved their victory party to Iacon, which mean less to kill here.

A neutral spotted me, and before he could warn the Decepticons of my presence I swiftly, silently, dismantled him. I took a minute to recoup some of the energy I'd just spent, no point in wasting any fuel for this adventure. Since Jazz was drained, I moved on to Sunstreaker, prying open a chest wound.

That done I moved on my way, keeping to the shadows and remaining undetected. I heard some voices but did not listen, focusing instead on the battle at hand. This area was so deep in Autobot control that it had few guards in it's time, and I'm sure the Decepticons didn't see a need to guard it once they had wiped everyone out. I managed to fly my ship around to a back entrance, and into the engineering room, where one femmebot faced the controls, her back to me. She never saw what hit her.

Then I made my presence known with a vengeance. I magnetically pulled in every direction as far as my reach extended. Components from transformers and vital machinery alike ripped from their mechanisms and piled on the ground around me. Ten seconds into my warpath explosions surrounded me; they would be following the fuel lines into Autobot City's barracks, where Decepticons now lay. No matter how powerful these Decepticons might have been, with out fuel they were nothing, and I had reduced their refinery to rubble.

Pleased with my work, I jumped back on my ship and flew away from the spreading flames. I didn't bother sticking to the shadows now, I'd done the most I had hoped for, and any further Decepticons I killed would be a bonus.

Imagine my surprise when I spotted Sideswipe running to the refinery, running not to make sure they were all dead but to help spread the alarm.

"What are you doing?" I demanded in anger, shocked that a long time comrade such as him would have betrayed the Autobots, for why else would he still function unless he'd surrendered before the powerful Decepticon ship.

He spun around, gun drawn, ready to aim. Then he stared with growing horror. Which confirms he's a traitor, why else does one gaze with horror at an Autobot?

"Sunstreaker…" he moaned, looking from me to his dead twin. He raised his gun, but I magnetized it out of his hand.

"Traitor!" I accused, deciding to dismantle him bit by bit, a fitting torture. I'd removed his left hand first, and then Wheeljack appeared. Wheeljack…was everyone a traitor now?

"What in Primus…" Wheeljack gasped, as he beheld the abomination that was my ship.

Slowly the horror of what I had done dawned on me. The screams and sirens that had been the hallmark of my last stand against our vicious enemy now signaled an atrocity.

Where was my error? The ship was heading for Cybertron. It should have arrived. My deduction was flawless, step by step…

Sideswipe managed to whip out another weapon with his one hand, and fired at me, but Wheeljack knocked his aim off.

"No, don't shoot him, he just needs help", I heard Wheeljack explain.

But there was no help for me. I dismantled the raft and ran back towards the energon mine, hoping to perish there in the flames with so many of my autobot comrades. I heard more yells and cries, they were coming after me. The flames would take too long, and I might not melt all the way. I headed straight for the smelting pit.

But alas, even in death there was no peace for me. As my body painfully disintegrated my spark remained conscious of the agony, feeling it burn even after all the metal had melted away. And this pain stayed with me as my spark floated up, not as a free spirit but pulled by an evil force. Now, above Cybertron's orbit, I clearly spotted the Decepticon vessel that caused my curse.

They beckoned me inside.

The end.