Broken Blade
By Sam Ford
The door hissed open with a screech, struggling in its tracks against the old hydraulics. Like the rest of the outmoded war equipment, the base was falling apart. It might have been considered foreshadowing if Beamer had taken any notice; an allegory for his own place in the world. Instead, the Autobot simple strode through the faulty door, suppressing a sigh.
The sight greeting him upon entry filled him with both sadness and relief, with a strange twist of anger thrown in for good measure. In the hangar bay where the Valliant had once berthed now rested a recycled Decepticon relic. Rodeo's ship, albeit badly damaged, had been conscripted by Autobot High Command some months prior. The orange titan, expressing his displeasure in a less-than-constructive way, had spent the night in the brig. It had taken Beamer four megacycles to procure the proper paperwork, finally freeing his friend. Apparently Rodeo's outburst had not gone unnoticed, and some weeks later a new ship had arrived to their hanger. If it were appropriate to call it a ship.
The Fat Chance, which had taken only a moment to settle on the name, once started life as a Lugnut-class freight carrier. But that had been a long, long time ago. Once the workhorse of the Decepticon navy, Lugnut-class tri-engine transport sported a pair of stabilizing wings for atmospheric entry, with a transwarp engine on the tail and modifiable cargo compartments in between. Looking at it from the right angle, it almost reminded Beamer of a terran C-130; if he saw past the rust and battle damage first.
A shout of jubilation drew Beamer's attention to the lounge arena. Rodeo and Lieger sat with their backs to him, battling each other on a video consol. While walking over, Beamer tried to remember the last time he'd found an enjoyable moment with his friends. Had it really been so long that he couldn't recall?
"Who's winning?" There was no need to stand on formality. These had been his closest companions since almost before training camp.
"I am." Lieger smiled. "Rodeo's getting his aft kicked."
"Am not." Rodeo's rural accent slipped out under concentration or stress. Apparently he really was getting his aft kicked.
Leaning back in the over-sized couch, Lieger took a moment to relish in his victory. The three dimensional fighting game was outmoded, even by human standards. The tiny controllers almost disappeared in Cybertronian hands. Still, it was one of his favorites. The buxom ninja on the view screen could have been no other than Lieger's avatar. His penchant for the feminine persuasion extended even into the digital world. Rodeo found himself playing a drunken old human, one that moved with extreme difficulty. Rodeo would cringe every time a car hit his character. Beamer's friend possessed many talents, but video games didn't fall into that category.
An explosive clamor split the stillness in the hanger bay, with prolific cursing following immediately after.
"Slag damn you, you fracking piece of Decepticon garbage! Your motherboard serviced washing machines, you soulless hunk of rusting scrap! Glitching piece of sickening slag!"
Beamer cringed, while Lieger never took his optics off the screen. "She's making progress."
"She is?" Beamer found that hard to believe, given how his audio processors were burning.
"Sure. She only curses when something breaks now. Right Rodeo?"
"Eyup."
Polaris squeezed out of the rear engine compartment with an over-exerted grunt, dropping her toolbox to the ground with a clang. Covered in oil and grime from circuit to servo, Beamer thought for a moment that she'd invested in a black repaint job. Then he noted the lack of white and realized his partner was just filthy. As usual.
"Everything alright in there?" He approached with an offering of solvent.
"The Energon lines are clogged solid and it started crystallizing in the FTL drives. I haven't seen anything this bad since we landed on Golganath VII. Thanks" She accepted the cleaning rag, wiping off her face.
"So you'll have us in the air in ten cycles, right?" Beamer teased.
"Eh. Give me twenty." Polaris was a top rate mechanic, among other things. Machines had a way of speaking to her, even the non-living ones. "You're home early. Everything okay?"
"We were wondering the same thing." Lieger still watched the screen. The score was now 28:3, in the sports car's favor.
"Sit down, we need to talk. All of you." They'd been under Beamer's command long enough to recognize that tone of voice. Beamer knew their new orders, and he didn't like them.
"Oh dear. How bad it is?" Asked Polaris.
"It's bad. Where's Dart and Graph?"
"Dart grabbed Graph and took off for the under city. He said it was something personal."
"That's fine, I'll catch them later." Beamer began. "I don't have to tell you guys the score. Decepticon activity has been down in all major systems for the past few stellar cycles. Star Saber attributes this to smarter weapons, and a stronger show of force, like the Micromasters."
"Yeah, right." Lieger snorted. He made no secret his feelings of Star Saber's leadership. "A quiet 'Con is a reloading 'Con. It's only a matter of time before they show up again, with something that makes Unicron look like a toaster oven."
"I agree." Rodeo put in, his scientist persona coloring his character. "The Decepticons on Charr are not the threat. Swindle has proven to possess excellent managerial skills, and turned that slag heap into a first-rate casino lounge. It's fairly nice from what I hear. Neither he, nor the former-subversives under his employ, are foolish enough to stir up trouble."
"Do you think it could be someone like Galvatron coming back?" asked Polaris, smudging the couch arm.
"You know, I haven't even said what the problem is yet." huffed Beamer.
"Sorry dear. Continue with your little story. What's the big-bad threat we're being sent to stop this time?"
"Well, the problem is no one knows exactly. I've heard some whisperings of someone named Violen Jiger, but that's just rampant speculation. I'm not high enough up the chain of command to be told."
"That's ridiculous! After all you've done? You've got enough rank to command a battalion, for Primus sake! You lead the Wreckers when no one else would. You'd think trust would be given a little more freely to someone of your stature." Rodeo defended his friend.
"This isn't the Autobot army any more, Rodeo." Lieger spat. "Optimus is dead. Rodimus betrayed us and left us with wimps, fleshlings and bearcats for defense."
"He was safe guarding the Matrix-"
"He abandoned us!"
Beamer placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. While Lieger took it to the extreme, his views were not unaligned with Beamer's own. In recent years things had changed. The old guard that had started the war either retired or died. Sometimes Beamer felt he and his friends were the only ones left.
"What's our mission, Beamer?" Polaris got them back on track.
"Cybertron is in danger."
Lieger snorted. "There's a surprise."
"This," Beamer changed images on the view screen. "is Dromedon. It is an undeveloped planet at the edge of the Autobot Commonwealth and the Vestiel Imperium. No one thought it important until Cybertron Defense Command blew up that inbound asteroid last month. Apparently someone was actually paying attention, because now the fourth moon of Dromedon has a clear shot at Cybertron."
Polaris raised her hand. "For how long?"
"About seven tenths of a cycle."
"That's not very long."
"It's long enough to get a clear shot off." Rodeo scratched his chin. "Laser cannon, I presume?"
"Disruptor cannon, actually. It may not entirely destroy Cybertron, but it will kill everyone and fry every circuit on the impact side of the planet. We can't let that happen."
"Agreed. What's the plan?" asked Polaris.
"We blow up the moon."
"I love this plan!" Lieger was on his feet, grinning like an idiot.
"Beamer, you can't be serious." Polaris was less than enthusiastic.
"Think of all the lives that will be lost." Rodeo added.
"Dromedon IV is entirely uninhabited, with the exception of shrike bats. And trust me, no one will miss them." His old scar tingled for a moment. "CDC has given us a virus to upload that will cause the cannon to backfire. No fuss, no muss."
"But, Beamer… An entire moon? After what Grapple did?"
"High Command wants no chance for this to fail. We fly in, upload the virus, pick up our cargo, and get out."
"Wait, what's the cargo?" Lieger dreaded the answer.
"An orphanage school shuttle."
"A what?!"
"A school bus. Two weeks ago it disappeared en route to a field trip. No one heard a peep out of it. Fifteen megacycles ago the shuttle's ELT started broadcasting. We go in, link up with the shuttle and high-tail it out of there."
"Well that's just Prime." A sulking Lieger crossed his arms.
"Surely the Decepticons would not leave the cannon unattended. " Rodeo commented.
"Right." Beamer nodded. "They left one guard. Inkerbot. Decepticon jet and poet-laurite artist."
"Oh great, this guy." Lieger sighed.
"You know him?"
"Unfortunately, yeah. I was in Paris when he carpet-bombed the city with India ink. He claimed he 'Wanted the City of Love to be as black as his soul!' The guy's got serious angst. I heard he'd been captured when Earth kicked out all aliens. I guess he must have escaped."
"Weapons?" Inquired Rodeo.
"Practically none. The dude's an artist. He changed all his missiles out to fire paint and his melee weapon of choice is a pencil. He's obsessed with ink. Pretty good tagger as I recall though."
"That doesn't add up." Polaris chimed in. "Why construct a super weapon just to leave your weakest warrior there? If this Violent Ginger really is resurrecting the greatest generals in Decepticon history, why use Inkerbot at all?"
"It may not be him." Lieger suggested. "It could be someone else entirely. Someone with a grudge?"
"I'd say Starscream, but he's dead, along with Black Zarak. And Fullsaid would just send an army." offered Polaris. "So would Fulcrum."
"What if it's personal?" Rodeo lost himself in thought.
"Against us? What guarantee do they have that we'd be the ones sent?"
"None. But suppose they got lucky."
They all thought for a moment. Lieger jovially broke the mood. "Let me get my list of ex-girlfriends."
"No one's heard from Railgun in a while." Beamer suggested.
"It could be Spectrawave." mused Lieger.
"No." Asserted Polaris.
"I'm just saying, it could."
"No, it can't. Genocide isn't his thing. Even Verticon doesn't have the wiring for that. Besides, they were braded traitors for helping Autobots."
"And the Autobots then tried to have them arrested. He's a Decepticon, Polaris. You don't know what he's capable of." Lieger reminded her.
"Yes, I do."
"Okay, this is getting us no where." Beamer broke in. "We've all got work to do. Polaris, finish overhauling those engines. Rodeo, start working on the navigation calculations with the coupling. Lieger, you and I will load up the Fat Chance. We leave at dawn, people. Let's get to it."
Beamer stepped away. Lieger and Rodeo shut down their game, arguing Rodeo's ascertain that he could have made a come back, twenty seven points behind or not. Polaris stepped closer, pulling Beamer to the side.
"Beamer, this has to stop."
"What does?"
"This whole thing. Autobot command keeps using you for their dirty jobs that aren't glorious enough for the newsreels. We haven't had any time together in months, because they keep giving you one mission right after the other. I think they're hoping you'll fail or die because you embarrass them, a relic to the old ways."
"What are you saying, Polaris? You don't want to be an Autobot any more?"
"No, I'll always be an Autobot. It's who I am. But this isn't my army any more. Beamer, they're asking you to blow up a moon! I can't do this."
"So, this is about me then?"
"Listen here, bucket head." Polaris smiled. "I've been in love with you since the first day you got your aft handed to you as basic training. You were so cocky and sure of yourself, even in defeat. You're a good guy, Beamer, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I don't want that life to be cut short. I want to grow old and rust with you."
"Polaris… the army is all I know."
"I can think of some other things you know." Polaris smiled, using her finger to lightly trace out the Autobot emblem on his chest. "Remember that night on Earth where we stayed out and counted the stars? You were pretty good at that as I recall."
"Great, so I can count stars." Polaris' face dropped. "Kidding! I'm kidding. Of course I remember." Beamer sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it is time to retire. Okay, Polaris. This is our last mission. After this the Autobots are on their own. I promise." He wiped some grime from her cheek. "But for now, I need you to make sure we get there in one piece."
"Why, sir, do you doubt my abilities?" she touched her chest, playing the genteel woman she was anything but.
"Quite the contrary, my dear. I know you to be the best mechanic in seven systems." Beamer played along, is faux accent terrible.
"Only seven? I do believe my reputation has failed me. Very well, I see how it must be." She laid an arm across her forehead. "Back to the grindstone for me. I shall slave away until my name is known throughout the universe. Nono, speak not, dear sir. I shall work on service your engines until they purr like Predacons, and breaking down is nothing but an unfortunate dream."
"I thought she said we wouldn't break down?" Lieger grumbled.
The Fat Chance limped through space, propelled by nothing more than momentum and maneuvering jets, the engines having long since fallen silent. Rodeo was doing a fine job taking them through the asteroid belt without unassisted, a testament to his skill as a pilot, not the integrity of the ship. The flight was taking mega cycles longer than expected, and the three bots in the cockpit were growing restless.
"Sweetie? How's it coming?" Beamer hit the comm.
{"Ask me that again, and I will shimmy my way back up this under sized tube and beat you with my over sized wrench!"}
"Sounds like she's enjoying himself." Lieger nudged Rodeo. The truck bot merely grunted, adjusting the pitch over the next rock.
"I'm just asking, Polaris!" Beamer tried to remain calm, but he didn't appreciate being snapped at by his partner.
{"Sorry."} The comm crackled after a moment. {"These things weren't designed to be worked on from the inside. If I could just head outside and drop the entire aft section I would have been done a mega-cycle ago. I should have the engines back online any time now, though. The Transwarp drive is another story. It's toast. I can rig a bypass, but it's a one way trip. You fire it up, and Rodeo had better make sure that we're pointed home, because it's only going to work once."}
"Got that?" Beamer checked.
"Polaris." Rodeo keyed the comm. "Try rerouting the plasma coils through the ventral induction fan. That may give us a bit more stability."
{"Already on it, big guy. But if this goes wrong, we're going to be shooting plasma and raw energon out our backsides. Very unpleasant."}
"Just get us home, Polaris." Beamer smiled.
{"Will do."}
"And do it with hast." Lieger added. "We're here."
Rounding the last asteroid in the belt, Rodeo brought the Fat Chance in nice and slow as the sun crested the far side of the Dromedon. With a slight bank the ship orbited the empty world, making for the fourth moon. The sub light engines fired up with a cough just as they entered scanner range.
"That'll do us." Polaris stood in the hatch way, wiping her hands. "Keep an eye on those discharge levels."
"You just worry about keeping us in the air, Miss Polaris." Rodeo never took his optics off the control board. "If you could get a washer machine to fly, I could land it."
"Picking up the Emergency Location Transmitter from the flying classroom." Lieger flipped two switches over head. "Looks like they went down on one of the high ridges. Easy extraction. No evidence of a crash."
"They're bait." Polaris chewed her lip.
Beamer didn't like where this was going. "Where is the cannon located?"
"About three kliks down slope on the mesa. I'm only scanning one 'Con energy signature, just like Intel said. Also, I'm reading that the cannon is 23% charged." Lieger turned. "If they powered that cannon on when they picked our signal dropping out of light speed, that'd put it just about right, wouldn't it, Rodeo?"
"Given the rate of charge, and the range of their scanners, I'd say that's accurate down to five point two cycles."
"I don't like this." Polaris touched Beamer's arm.
"The school shuttle is hailing us." Lieger checked his board "Standard SOS signal. No variation, no audio message. Either they know someone's listening, or they're all dead."
"Arm the forward weapons. Bring the auto-guns online." Beamer ordered.
"Auto-guns online." Rodeo confirmed.
"Shields are holding steady at 87%." reported Lieger. "But Beamer, if it comes down to a fight, it'd be best if we did it while running away."
People could think Lieger was a coward all they wanted, but Beamer knew the truth. Years ago he'd suffered a near death experience that had changed him, settling in him a deep courage and a greater sense of purpose beyond the fun loving, femme chasing, brazen bot on the outside. There were fewer friends Beamer would rather have at his side.
"Okay, here's the plan." Beamer laid it out. "Rodeo, bring the ship in and latch onto the shuttle with the cargo section. Lieger, you stay and help. Transform the hold into the LAAT/c configuration. Set our tail right on top of them. We're going to have to take the whole shuttle; I don't think the moon has enough breathable oxygen. Transfer the civilians into the hold as soon as you make contact. If we have to run I want to be able to drop the shuttle."
"Right boss."
"Polaris, you're with me. We're going to drive down that mesa and upload the virus into that canon before Inkerbot knows what's hit him. Fast, hard, clean."
"Alright."
"Hold it." Rodeo steadily banked the ship. The shuttle was now clearly visible out the front view ports. "The temperature warning just went off. Polaris, run back and cycle the vents."
"Okay, revision. Polaris, you stay with Rodeo. Lieger, you're with me."
The sports car unstrapped as Polaris rushed back to the maintenance compartment, checking his weapons. Beamer checked himself as well, fingering his back-strapped trademark sword and making sure his pistol rested snugly at his hip. The blinking light went still momentarily.
"Nice and easy, old friend." Beamer leaned behind Rodeo's seat.
"Eyup."
The shuttle now lay mere yards away. Tension built in the command room, though there was no need. Rodeo slid the ship down and linked with the shuttle just like a bird of prey nabbing a noon day meal. With a slight jolt they were locked.
"Alright, let's kick it." Beamer grinned.
He and Lieger rushed for the hatch, ready to leap into action. Truth be told Beamer had always enjoyed this part. Action and adventure were the reasons he'd joined the Autobots in the first place. The thought of danger or the limited lifespan the moon had left flittered at the back of his mind, far from conscious thought.
As they reached they hatch, Lieger flung it outward, catapulting into the air with a 'woo-hoo', transforming in mid free fall. Beamer looked up as Polaris entered the opposite end of the corridor. A moment would be all it would take to steal a kiss for luck. But that might indicate a finality that sat deep within Beamer's circuits, a feeling he wouldn't acknowledge. So instead he settled for a wink and a lop-sided grin that he knew still sent her fuel pump into overdrive. With a flamboyant backwards fall into the moon's atmosphere Beamer transformed, chasing Lieger just a few yards down slope.
"Hard and fast, right boss?" Lieger chuckled as Beamer caught up with him.
"That's the plan."
"Well, something's not right." Lieger shifted gears. "Inkerbot hasn't moved. He has to know we're here."
"Let's just see how this plays out."
The cannon was coming up fast. Massive silver structure at least eight stories high, it had been constructed with only the purpose of total devastation in mind. Lights that stretched along the giant barrel shown just under a third lit. Still time to deactivate it. The control display at its base stood empty and clear, no sign of security or guards.
Beamer and Lieger slid to a stop, transforming in position, weapons in hand. Stalking around the side of the cannon, they found Inkerbot standing at the very edge of the mesa, staring out into the bleak vastness of the moon and Dromedon above.
Signaling Lieger to watch him, Beamer accessed the cannon's console. There were no lockouts or security keys. He simply uploaded the virus from his finger jack and watched as the program accepted its new parameters. Lieger kept an optic on their friend as Beamer marveled at the laziness before him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The darkness that emanated from Inkerbot's vocal box sounded more like a sigh than a threat.
"Oh? And why not?" Beamer approached, drawing his sword. "What's your game, Inkerbot? Why the lax security? Why the easy target?"
Inkerbot ignored the question. "He wouldn't like it."
"Who's 'he'?"
{"Beamer, Lieger, y'all had better get back here. I think we may have a problem."} Rodeo commed.
"On our way." Lieger acknowledged, transforming and speeding away.
Beamer stayed a moment, watching the lone Decepticon. He'd never even turned around. The shorter bot just stared at the sunset. Beamer waited a beat longer before transforming himself, headed back to the ship.
"What's the problem?" Lieger arrived back to find a cargo hold full of orphans. The tiny beings were everywhere; fleshlings standing no more than knee high as Polaris transferred them from shuttle to ship as fast as possible. Nebulons and Zamojins and even a diminutive Kalkar. The smell of organics two weeks without a shower hurt Lieger's nose. He was grateful he could turn it off.
"The kids are saying that Decepticons took their ship." Polaris wanted to be out with Beamer, or in the cockpit, or anywhere but where she was. She needed to do something useful, and yet the children just kept coming.
"Yeah, so? We knew that."
"Decepticons. Plural. But it's not how many; it's who."
{"Guys, I've got a problem."} Beamer called in. {"The virus count down just stopped. I'm going to go back and check it."}
"What? No! Beamer, get back here!" Polaris commed. Static filled the air waves.
"Slag! We're being jammed!" Lieger pointed out.
"Lieger, you'd better get up here." Rodeo called back.
"What's the matter?"
"Two more Decepticons signals just dropped out of nowhere. They must have been hiding in the minerals of the asteroid belt."
"So how long do we have?" Lieger checked the cockpit scopes. The blips moved in closer until the ship rocked with impact and one of the blips stopped. The other continued on.
"They're here."
Beamer sped back to the cannon, transforming and skidding to a stop. Inkerbot still stood in his spot, but not the computed readout flashed red, incompliant with Beamer's efforts. Static filled the crackling screen, a very simple message.
Abort? y/n
No matter how many times Beamer hit 'y', noting would happen. "What did you do?"
"Do you miss home?" Inkerbot asked, his smoky voice that of a jazz singer rather than a fighter.
"Answer me, Decepticon!" Beamer leveled his sword.
"You can almost see it from here. Maybe in that brief instant I'll be able to catch a glimpse of it before I die."
"You'll die sooner than that if you don't answer me. What did you do?"
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't want to come, you know. I tried to stay where I was in that bar. In the end he had to level it to drag me out. I was almost happy. I can't remember the last time I was truly happy. Can you, Beamer?"
"What are you talking about?" Beamer's sword dipped ever so slightly.
"Can you remember the last time you were happy?" Inkerbot turned.
"No." Beamer admitted.
"Neither can he." The Decepticon gestured skyward.
"AUTOBOOOOOT!" The battle cry echoed off the rocks and steel around them, reverberating with the screech of damaged jet engines.
As Beamer turned, a silver jet streaked out of the sky, coughing smoke and sparks as it swerved straight for him at top speed. Hearing the transformation sound, Beamer barely got his sword up in time as the silver and black slag heap crashed into him. Beamer coughed, blocking mind blowingly erratic swings, trying to see through the smoke and the dust. Whoever it was brandished steel with the very best.
"Autobot! I want my sword!" came the pitched cry, like vocal processors that just couldn't keep up with the strain. And yet, underneath, Beamer knew that voice.
"Blade?!" coughed Beamer.
Only it wasn't Blade. Not anymore. His entire left side had been eaten away, pop marked with acid and welds, rust setting in deep. His face now stretched and cracked under the strain of living, and his arm appeared little more than the skeletal processors, all armor and plating having long since melted away. Even his once proud cape was little more than rags, burnt, dirtied, torn and bloodied.
"That's! My! Sword!" Blade threw down blow after blow, mismatched and imprecise but alarmingly powerful.
Beamer blocked with everything he had. "How can you be alive?"
"GIVE ME MY SWORD!"
In the Fat Chance Rodeo and Lieger watched the viewer, their jaws agape. Beamer battled against a ghost from the past, and they knew it had come back to haunt them.
"Is that Blade?!" Lieger pointed.
"Can't be. I thought he was dead?"
"Well either he isn't, or someone is messing with us big time." The ship rocked again. "Is that who I think it is?"
"I don't know," Rodeo grabbed his lasso. "But I want them off."
Rodeo and Lieger walked back to the hatch just as Polaris finished up. "What's going on?"
"We got space barnacles." Rodeo threw open the hatch. "Alright you-"
He never even saw the knife as it sliced through his secondary wiring harness. He stopped mid sentence, falling into a total systems reboot, sliding backward off the blade, leaving a bloody streak of mech fluid behind. One of the children screamed. Lieger jumped into the hatch way as the Decepticon swung down from above.
"Mischief." Lieger cursed.
"Hi there, Lieger. Miss me?" she grabbed his chin, planting a quick and most unwelcome kiss on his lips.
"Get off me!" Lieger flailed blindly, stumbling backwards over Rodeo as Mischief flew out the door with a laugh.
"Lieger, get off him!" Polaris ordered, already working on stemming the bleeding from Rodeo's chest.
"She kissed me!" Lieger spat.
"It wasn't the first time. I've got to get Rodeo stable. Bitch knows what she's doing. Another inch to the left and she'd have split his Spark chamber. As it is she planned on pinning one of us here with Rodeo."
"Right." Lieger stood. "Let me know how that works out."
"Here." Polaris passed him a fluid can. "Compressed sealant. Spray it in the wound. It should hold till we can get him to a medic."
"Where are you going?"
Polaris made for the door with her Big Wrench. "I've got a score to settle."
Lieger started to argue except for the laser blasts and the alarm going off from the cockpit. Shooting Rodeo full of sealant foam, he made a dash for the control room. The horizon began to spin wildly as children from the back started to scream and vomit. Strapping himself into Rodeo's seat, Lieger took the yoke.
"She took out the auto pilot. Nice." Lieger shifted the controls "Well let's see how she likes this!"
"I thought you were dead." Beamer blocked another ferocious swing.
"You left me to die on Kilair, Autobot."
"I saw you go down in the rock slide."
"The rocks pinned me to the ground, burring me as you looked on. And you left me as the rivers began to rise in the acid wastes. I screamed, Autobot. I prayed to the Ultimate Warrior to hear my plea and grant me death. But death did not come. And I screamed, Autobot. I screamed!"
"I didn't know." Beamer countered. "We all saw you go down. We looked for mega cycles."
"LIES! To think that at one time I almost considered you my equal, my opposite, my soul companion. And you left me to burn, to scream in my dishonor. I shall now do what I should have done decades ago; reclaim my honor through your death. I WILL. HAVE. MY. SWORD!"
Beamer backtracked far took quickly and took a tumble. He needed to get some room. Transforming, he sped away, listening to the scream of the sick engines behind him. This was terribly wrong. He had to find a way out of it. Fast.
"What are you doing here, Mischief?" Polaris swung her Big Wrench. It failed to hit its target and connected with the tail section, the Decepticon daintily dancing under it. "Your brother isn't here."
"Oh I know that. This visit inst personal. At least not for me." Mischief smirked, slashing out with her shoto. Polaris staggered as red fluid tricked down her porcelain midriff.
The two femmes played a dangerous game, dancing across the top of the Fat Chance. Lieger, watching on the scanners, struggled with keeping the ship solid for Polaris and throwing Mischief off. Unfortunately it was hard to throw the flight-capable Decepticon off balance. Polaris continued to get the worst of it. Between the rocking of the ship and Mischief's playful cuts, she was losing. Polaris made a good brawler, and could throw a punch with the best of the boys.
Mischief though. She was a dancer. She treaded into combat like an artist. For every swing Polaris took at her, Mischief connected three times. And for every wobble from her opponent, Mischief jabbed. She wasn't trying to kill Polaris, just put her down. Death by a thousand cuts. She'd studied with the master, and while this may not have been personal for her, it was for him. And Mischief lived to serve the master.
"What are you doing here?" Polaris asked again. She couldn't feel the last two fingers on her right hand. Without looking she couldn't tell if they were gone or if the nerve had just been severed, but she couldn't spare the glance.
"My master has business with your mate. He sent me to make sure you wouldn't interfere."
"That's all I needed to know." Polaris spun, leaping for the edge of the ship. If Beamer was alone against Blade, he'd need backup. And there was no way in the Pit Polaris would sit back and watch Beamer fight for his life alone.
"Oh no you don't." Mischief smirked, thrusting. Polaris fell to the deck, hobbled. "My master bids you to stay. And besides, we're having so much fun, aren't we?"
"Yeah." Polaris tightened her grip on her Big Wrench, swinging blindly and finally connecting. Bits of Mischief's jaw went flying. "We are!"
Beamer surveyed the situation at 160mph. The Fat Chance was swinging wildly. Obviously Rodeo was down. Polaris was locked in combat on the upper hull of the ship. Inkerbot stood still, watching the combat before him. The Disruptor cannon continued to charge at 57%, and Blade screamed overhead, peppering the landscape with wild shots. He most have lost his targeting along with his sanity.
"Why are you doing this? Shut down the cannon. You're going to kill billions of your own people."
"Billions of your people, Autobot. It shall be my greatest triumph and your worst failing. You shall die knowing that your failure cost the lives of your beloved Autobots. And I will sit on your corpse tonight and drink of your oil."
Beamer shuddered at the sheer insanity of the image. "Look, Blade. I'm giving you a chance. End this. You can come back to Cybertron with us. We'll fix you. I'll make personally sure you get the best medical help."
"LIES! You stole my sword. You stole my honor. I'll steal your life!"
"I've owned this sword for longer then it was even in your possession. But fine. You want it so bad?" Beamer hit the breaks, transforming and leaping at the damaged jet. "Here you go!"
Blade transformed in mid air, clashing his sword against Beamer's own. Usually he kept a short knife stored in his left forearm, but currently that wasn't an issue. The endo-skeletal arm reached past the clashed swords, attempting to wring Beamer's neck. The pair fell backwards, tumbling to earth. Blade was on his feet, charging again before Beamer could even right himself. Beamer needed to finish this; quickly.
Mischief slashed again, missing once more. Polaris had either grown better or more desperate, because now the prodigy of Blade was forced to press her advantage. A swing of that wrench to her back had taken out Mischief's rotor blades and called up unpleasant memories of months spent in traction, unable to move. She couldn't concentrate.
But that had been a lifetime ago, and now her master had tasked her with a job which she was failing. Polaris continued to avoid the bite of her sword, even while Mischief's fluid continued to color that damn wrench.
"You can not escape me, Autobot." Mischief spat through the fluid and bits of her own jaw.
"My plan was never to escape you. Just set you up so Lieger could knock you down."
The Fat Chance shifted hard to port, and Polaris took a running leap at Mischief. The Decepticon lost traction on all the spilled life blood, slipping down the wing and directly into the forward gun sights.
"Gotcha." Lieger smiled from inside the cockpit.
Depressing the firing key, energy beams lanced out, frying the femme. Or they would have if she'd still been vertical. While Mischief couldn't fly, she could still transform. Converting to attack helicopter mode, the Apache returned fire, destroying the forward gun emplacements. Inside the cockpit every alarm went off even while Lieger fought to get the listing ship back under control.
"Now for you." Mischief smiled, back on two legs. She drew her ceremonial Sion fan with her right hand, her sword in her bloody left. Polaris shuddered to her feet, her right calf pistons severed. She looked ready for stasis lock. Mischief smiled. "I think you'll enjoy this one. It's one of my favorites."
Mischief flapped her fan, shooting out barbed tendrils. Polaris screamed as the barbs pierced her shell, becoming tangled in the Decepticon's snare. Polaris quickly found herself tied up in a bundle of mono-wire.
"I picked this up from the emir of Sion, just before I slew him for my master. The barbs can pierce anything, and they're attached to strands of ultra thin wire. Which means I can electrocute you from over here." Mischief depressed a key and Polaris screamed as electricity coerced through her super structure. "The barbs are also coated in a special cyber toxin that slows response time while heightening sensuality. I find it quite... erotic." Mischief let out a shuttered breath. "What do you think?"
"I think I need to take your toy away from you." Polaris muttered.
Her wrench gone, Polaris threw a punch. Mischief sidestepped, slicing deeply across the Autobot's torso. A short kick to the lower back sent Polaris to her knees. Wrapping the mono-wire around her once more, Mischief knelt, sword at Polaris' throat.
"Now, watch as my master guts your dog of a mate and reclaims his rightful title of best swordsman in the universe!"
Beamer was wining. He knew Blade had to see that. At least, the old Blade would have. The bot he'd come to respect and admire even as they tried to kill one another. Their relationship had turned from a death grudge into a weekly 22 minute cartoon. Certainly they still tried to one up the other, but they'd found common ground, despite their allegiances.
When the Shinto temple on Earth had been in danger of being destroyed in a mudslide, they had worked together to save it, out of respect for the human monks and their beliefs. When Polaris and Graph had been lost in the quasar storm, Blade volunteered to help find them. And the time Blade and Beamer had crash landed on that remote planet, they had helped each other to survive and get off planet.
Now though, Blade seemed Hell-bent on Beamer's annihilation. To survive the acid wastes of Kilair he must have had to set aside everything but what he held most dear. And apparently the belief that Beamer had abandoned him was a bit true. Beamer could have searched harder, regardless of the rising acid rivers. Be he hadn't. There'd been no sign of Blade, and Beamer hadn't found him. But Mischief had. And now Blade was as crazy as she was.
It must have been spreading, because Beamer was able to press his advantage. The long, broad strokes had turned into quick, desperate jabs. Blade used to have the ability to look at a battle like a chess match, and to see the outcome ahead of time. Now all Beamer had to do was wait him out and Blade would make a mistake.
Except he was running out of time. The cannon now sat at 89%. In less than four cycles it would fire. This had to end. Now.
"I'm sorry Blade. Truly I am. But it's time to finish this." Beamer paused, a peculiar glint in Blade's good optic. "What is it?"
"I win." Blade grinned.
The ferocity glowed from within Blade, whose sword moved quicker than Beamer had ever seen it. He'd been wrong, the old Blade wasn't dead. He'd just been playing possum. Now Beamer was fighting for his life. But if he could just think like Blade; if he could see the moves before they happened. There! Seven moves ahead. Two parries, three swings and a jab. Now just five. Blade saw it too. It was a race. Down to three. Beamer smiled-
He never felt the blade. His sword went up. Blade flourished, Beamer's sword was gone. And Blade's knife was sticking through his chest.
Blade laughed, catching Beamer's sword in mid air. Even at this distance Beamer could hear Polaris's scream. It was a shrill wail, the kind that could almost melt aluminum. He didn't know processors could make that noise without overloading. If his partner made that sound, Beamer knew he was in trouble. His diagnostic sensors were offline. In fact, Beamer's entire onboard HUD screen was blank, with a subtle red static settling in around the edges. His Spark felt funny.
"Yes! YES! At long last, after all these years, my honor is restored to me!" Blade cheered. "My Sword has come home to me. The infidel who defiled it has fallen at my hand. I am the superior swordsman! I! AM! INV-"
The shockwave knocked the Decepticon off his feet, the glowing hole in Blade's chest matching the smoking gun in Beamer's hand. Blade died instantly, the majority of his torso now nothing more than atoms in the wind. Hs processors held just enough residual charge to make out Beamer's last words.
"You talk too much."
Polaris knelt on the hull of the ship, her world dying. Stasis lock refused to commence, error readings illustrating the damage done to her body. The wail of the banshee in her audio receptors threatened to overload them, to make her drift into nothingness. Yet she didn't die, even as her world ended. Her spark beat on, all the while everything she cared about lay still on the ground.
She'd watched the entire battle. She saw the knife, and felt it enter her chassis. Yet it wasn't hers. It was Beamer. And now he knelt dying, even as Polaris knelt with him, so far away.
Mischief's scream was all encompassing. Her master, her god, had just been ripped from her grasp. Her social ideals that Decepticons were superior, that Blade would reign supreme, even that love concurred all had fallen far too short of reality. The one whom had saved her life had died at the hands of an inferior, using a gun, and the worst sin of all, Mischief had let it happen. She'd sworn an oath to Blade, to serve and protect and love him, and yet he had died. It should have been her at the end of that gun barrel.
And so two bots died, and two worlds ended. All the while through the slow count down another world was about to parish.
"No..." Lieger breathed. He couldn't believe his own optics. One moment the two combatants had been fighting, and the next they both lay on the ground. Lieger had ever thought it possible. Of all the mechs he'd known, he had been sure Beamer would outlast them all. Now the one with the closest brush with death was not the first to cross that threshold.
"Beamer." Rodeo muttered, propped up in the doorway, his systems rebooted yet still badly damaged.
"He..." Lieger found himself at a loss for words. For once his jokes meant nothing.
"The cannon." Rodeo struggled into the co pilot's chair. "Ram it."
"Right." Lieger grit his teeth. "Look! Beamer's up."
"I see him." Rodeo rested his optics. "He just can't leave a mission unfinished. Alright, here's what we're going to do..."
Beamer struggled forward, up the mountain. In reality it was little more than a dirt mound that the cannon rested on, but it may as well have been an attempt to break orbit. With one hand on his chest, he pulled himself along. The cannon hummed at 97% charge, and would fire any nano-click. He had to key the abort sequence before it fired.
He was in trouble. Beamer knew he was dying. The world was going static-y as his optics took on a red hue. His spark pulsed in a manner it was never intended to. Blade had done his job well. He'd wanted to gloat. Beamer had denied him that opportunity. He barely spared a glance at the corpse as he passed it.
"Dang. I really liked that sword, too."
Now he rested at the base of the cannon. The computer sat just an arm's length above him. The cannon's charge hummed at 99%. He collapsed even as he reached for it. Beamer felt his spark extinguish completely. It was not an unpleasant feeling, a bit like falling into the realm of dreams, yet still knowing it were a dream. He stretched with the last bit of energy he had. His finger servos brushed the 'y' key.
And he lay still.
The alarms from the cannon blared. Inkerbot watched the skyline. In just a moment he would be able to see home. Glancing backwards he watched the two gray and unmoving bots that had ended their death struggle. The outdated ship older than he was laboriously pulled away into the atmosphere. The great cannon above vibrated with its firing potential. It had reached 100%.
Inkerbot walked to the computer screen. Abort? y/n. Beamer hadn't made it after all. Inkerbot looked at the ship again, then back to the cannon. Finally he stared back at the infinitesimal speck on the horizon. A flash of light for the briefest of moments. Home. Inkerbot actually smiled behind his mouth guard.
Abort? y/n
'y'
The cannon exploded.
Rodeo fought with the bucking controls. The cannon backfired perfectly, sending a massive shockwave and fireball deep into the atmosphere. His internal diagnostics blared right along with the alarm bells in the Fat Chance. He was bleeding all over the controls. He keyed the comm.
"Lieger?"
{"Not yet!"}
"Hurry!"
Lieger clung to the hull, working his way towards the two shell shocked femmes kneeling beside each other. With the angle of the ship they were staring to slide back and he was going to lose them. Rodeo was keeping them as level as possible, but they needed to be in space yesterday.
A slight jolt was all it took to shake the girls loose. They went slip sliding away like a couple of children's toys. Lieger made a lunge for it, catching Polaris' wrist.
"Gotcha!"
Polaris looked up. "Lieger?"
"Yeah. Come on, babe, let's get you inside. Rodeo? Go!"
{"We're gone."} The ship tilted vertical.
Lieger wrapped Polaris' arm around his neck. "Mischief? Come on!" The Decepticon did not answer. "Mischief!"
There was an audible click as the female flyer dropped into stasis lock. She fell away from the hull earthbound, entangled in the cords of her fan still stuck in Polaris' frame. Landing on the key, electricity discharged again.
"Lieger!" Polaris screamed, bucking with energy as she fell away.
"Hang on!" Liger groaned as the lightning conducted through his body as well.
"Help me, I'm slipping!" she screamed through the pain.
"Polaris, you're too bloody. I can't hold on!" The servos in Lieger's hands strained.
"Lieger!" Mischief's weight pulled her away further.
Then the floor fell away. With an unceremonious clunk the shuttle released, and Mischief became disentangled. Lieger didn't try twice. Rushing inside, dragging Polaris along, he sealed the hatch tight, looking back to only see Mischief fall away into the fireball below.
Dropping Polaris into the hold with the orphans, Lieger rushed for the cockpit.
"We're in. Go." Lieger dropped into the pilot's seat.
"Beamer was right; this moon is coming all to pieces. That backfire created gravity well."
"Spectacular. Can we make it?"
"We're going to find out."
Rodeo eased the throttle up, listening to the whine of the engines even as the inferno raged outside. The first shades of black began to color the atmosphere, a desperate promise of freedom. The nav-computer beeped with a course for Cybertron set in. It was going to be a one way trip. And they just might make it.
Then the ship began to slip backwards, the gravity from the imploding moon too great. Their hope at freedom disappeared into the gravity well.
"Now!"
Lieger punched the key and held on. The FTL drives spun up, sounding like too much RPM in too low a gear. The stars just barely streaked as the universe stretched out before them. Yet they were still sinking backwards. They hung, just at the event horizon, in limbo between life and death. The temperature alarm blared again.
"There goes the plasma coils." Rodeo did his best to fight black out. Lieger was fighting the bucking yoke.
{"I've got it."} Polaris radioed.
For just a moment everything went still, like calm in the storm. Every alarm in the cockpit went silent, the temperature gauge resetting. Then speed caught up t reality, the whine of the engines receding to a dull drone, the tempest outside giving way to the dead of space. The star lines streaked as the transwarp bubble opened. In a flash they were gone, leaving behind only a dead moon, a broken legacy and best friends.
Ending Theme: watch?v=uWS7SXZDMpU
Polaris sank to the floor of the cargo hold, pulling barbs from her body. Cycling the plasma vents hadn't solved the problem, so she'd knocked the heck out of the engine. From the sound it had apparently worked, and now it droned on, lulling her into sorrow. She was headed for stasis lock, and she planned never to come out.
The laughter and cheers from the many species of children in the hold did little to anchor her to the world. She could only feel the numbing pain of loss; of what was missing. Her emotion circuits were dead, tapped out and over loaded.
One of the children approached, a small Nebulon girl. Polaris didn't notice until she touched her leg. Towering over her, Polaris reflected on the frailty of life. Even titans could fall; what reason did these creatures have for existing?
"Thank you for saving us." the child squeaked, trying to pull a barb from Polaris' leg.
"What's your name?" Polaris leaned close. She couldn't even force a smile.
"Em. But everyone calls me Crash. What's yours?"
"Polaris."
"That guy who died. Was he a friend of yours?" asked Crash.
"Yeah. He was my best friend."
"Aren't you going to cry?" Crash asked with the innocence of a child.
"No. Transformers can't cry. No tear ducts." It was Primus' sick joke, she thought.
Crash hugged Polaris' face. "Then I'll cry for you."
The two girls held each other close, the smaller one expressing the grief that the larger one so desperately needed to get out. Eventually they fell asleep, curled up next to one another. When sleep finally took Polaris, it was not by the cold, steely grasp of stasis lock, but rather the soft lull from the tiny being beside her. All things passed, but only in time. Life pressed on. Memories lasted.
Love endured.