Queen's Note: Okay, this is half trade, half gift story for Storm Dracona. Why I say that is that normally a trade story is 1,000 to 2,000 words and this is a two part thing. Hope you like it sweetie! Everyone else... watch out for the Master Of Subtlety. Really, he's going to be a bit grumpy XD
Landing
Part One
"It's a cute planet." Topspin tilted his head, sensor strips shifting with the movement as he regarded the screen in the front of the bridge before turning to glance at the others to see their reactions along with Roadbuster's.
"Mostly under water," Perceptor noted as she reached to one side, trailing connecting cables be hide her arm as she tapped one of the many control boards around her in the Command Nest. In turn a secondary holographic screen popped up showing the first real scan results on the planet that came back from Xianthum's echoes. "Dirt, water and organic life..." the claw tips of her other hand drubbed a thoughtful rhythm.
"Rapture will like that if he ever comes 'round 'ere." X-Brawn chuckled, leaning back in his seat at the security station behind and to the right of the Nest. In front of him was Red Alert at weapon's, close enough that he could reach out his larger arm and tweak one of her feet. He didn't of course as very few dared to tease the femmie, though X-Brawn was one of the few who could he was saving it for later. Instead he continued, "Probably won't get him out of those big seas for a good few hundred years." He stretched, flexing his power arm and sagged with tiredness in the action.
"Sideburn giving you a run for your credits?" Red Alert smirked as she watched him.
"Sideburn, Hotrod, an' half of the youngin's want to take a run of the course." The other Second chuckled.
Roadbuster turned from where he was standing beside the nest, grinning as his visor flashed a playful green-blue shade, "Said it before an' will again: Good luck with those two."
Behind the Foreman at the engineering station to the right of the Command Nest, another green mech was chuckling. He was taller than Roadbuster and had lanky legs, his visor seemed to be suck on shades of red. Turning in his seat and hocking an arm over the back of the chair back to look at the rest of the rest of the mechs and femmeis that made of the current full bridge crew. All were command staff, the Foreman and his Seconds had planned it this way so they could have both a due meeting to talk about general matters of Platform life, the latest batches of refugees that had to been taken in, be healed and settled. As well as plans of what to do when arriving, and only Thirds were allowed to listen in outside of the bridge.
"As amusing as this is," Hook commented, "We are passing into the system's outer edge. Blaster can you hear any echoes other than Xianthum's?"
Heads turned to look at the front and just to the right of the bridge at the tiny Sound Master. More Minicon then Minobot, Blaster was trailing his hands delicately through a light display of sound in front of him. Blaster had managed to coax the Xianthum into letting him mess with making a sound to color display that only he and his 'minions' of Microcons such as Rewind and Eject could read it with no problems. The small, red and silver mech was tilting his head this way and that, studying and interacting with the signals that was coming in, decoding it and then scanning the clear text/shades.
Behind him Red Alert revved her alternate form's engine, the equivalent of a human clearing their throat to prompt someone.
Startled out of his absorbing study Blaster looked up, optics wide as he turned around to flash his optics in a blink, "What?"
"Echoes?" Roadbuster reminded before Hook could get too annoyed, Blaster was almost always aware of what was said or heard around him. If not him then Rewind and Eject would catch it and transmit it to him.
"Right!" Baster nodded, taking over the main display as Rewind transformed into his robot form from where he had been sitting on the station, to help. The main display in the front of the bridge had the image of the blue and green/brown world was pushed to a smaller window, another two popping up show the star and all its planetary satellites, the marble world highlighted as well as a smaller moon for one of the bigger planetary bodies.
"There's transmissions coming from two places," Rewind piped up, he was half the size of Blaster and was mostly black with white highlights and a dark brown/red shade in undertones, blue optics seem to be always wide and ready to absorb any and everything he could from the world around him. Like Blaster and his brother, Rewind was the pride and joy work of Red Alert and Perceptor, and some day would be as big as his current partner and teacher.
Right now though, he touched the 'Earth' world on the smaller display in front of him, "This is where the strongest ones are coming from, Eject and I are already working to crack the more dominate languages with Xianthum's help, but the big femmie is also hearing Cybertronian transitions from the planet as well."
"That is where Optimus Prime and his crew are. Or should be at least," Perceptor sat up a little in the Command Nest, running her clawed digits over the lines connected to her sides, debating if she should unhook to help. The red and black femmie was after the PM, and would need to organize the loading of one of the shuttles docked on the outer hull of the Xianthum.
"What about that other moon?" X-Brawn butted in, skimming translated Autobot transmissions from the blue world with one optic at the same time. "If their getting' loud enough tah pick them up out 'ere, could be a threat."
"We're also closer to them then the third planet." Hock pointed out, and glanced over at the nodding Minibot.
"The sounds are different too," Blaster added in, bringing up a comparison image in the main display for the echoes coming from both planet and moon. One was without a doubt far more complicated with weaving colored and some textured line, while the other was more simple and looked in comparison more uniform and regular instead of random, "These lines are almost more like what happened in the crystal belt a vron ago that Xianthum had to hide in. I'm bettin' that whoever's there are using crystals to amplify their communications in-planet."
"Moon," Rewind corrected.
Blaster did the equivalent of rolling his optics, "Lunar-planetoid."
"Good enough compromise," The Microcon agreed as little hands working on the console, he was putting most of his focused on helping their living ship to crack the blue-world's languages.
"So how are we going to go about the landing Foreman?" Perceptor asked from within the Nest, looking up at the green and silver mech beside her. "The Xianthum cannot land on that little planet, even at the slowest she will be burning much of their atmosphere. The landing itself, on land or in water will be devastating to a planet with that much bio-mass, as well as the repairs we will have to do on the Platform. Not to even mention what will happen in a takeoff will entail after restocking for a local solar cycle to get a proper overflow of energon to make the endeavor."
"In other words," Red Alert translated without looking up from her screen, "Take a shuttle boss mech."
With an exasperated sound Perceptor glanced at her friend before turning her green and blue optics back up to meet the gaze of the amused Foreman, "We will save energon, time and unnecessary work to leave the Xianthum in space. Take a shuttle."
Roadbuster chuckled, shaking his head at the two before he considered the forward screens again. Tapping a claw on his other arm he pushed himself off leaning on the lip of the Command Nest and uncrossed his arms. The mech tapped the holographic display, and Xianthum magnified the blue and green planet each time he taped until the content the Prime currently resided on was displaying all the interesting things such as lights and energy readings that the ship could pick up from here. "Hmmm..."
"Scanners up ya'll!" X-Brawn's voice startled everyone who was staring at their leader, the mech was standing reflexively with his larger hand grasping and clenching at the air as he pulled up the solar system display on the main screen again. "We're not alone after all, Metrotitan spotted."
"Who is it?" Hook and Roadbuster demanded at the same time, the taller Hook rocking back a bit, winced and reminded himself once more that he was no longer a Foreman. He couldn't help that itch to take charge, but without a Datum no Wrecker would really fallow him instinctually anymore. It was one more reason why Hook hated Megatron and Shockwave, and their meddling.
"Conflicting signals, two name glyphs are coming up from the same source." Blaster reported, "The core one is Trypticon, over laying it identifies him as a Decepticon Flag Ship class Nemesis."
"Slaved Metrotitan," Perceptor growled her systems lightly, gripping the edges of the Command Nest in a possessive mix of feels that came from her duty as a Platform manager, as well as one of Xianthum's spark-parents. "Xianthum is coming about to face him." The red and white femmie's optics were unforced as she turned her attention fully to the link up with the Platform, riding along on Xianthum's senses as much as added suggestions on what to do.
The deck under them vibrated as the Platform gave a warning warble to the other. The passive interest in the inhabited planets, and more keen interest in the asteroid belt for its metals, now all changed. As the song of greeting that rolled over Xianthum's hull had amorous (but cautious) interest and intent from Trypticon it caused her to clamp her outer armor plates, some as large as the shuttles docked on her hull.
A vibrating rumble that could be considered a growl echoed from Xianthum before her song took a notable grumpy, sharp edge to it. Relatively, and in human terms she was fat and heavily pregnant. Charring five nearly fully formed young Metrotitans that would be either a platform, a city, a living ship or a station, and all starting to strain to brake their supporting harnessed in Xianthum's self-made gravity. With each crack and shutter over the last year caused the Wrecker ship to send out what could only be called a yelp.
So now, so near to splitting her hull to birth her young, Xianthum was in a word: Cranky.
To the point that she started circle closer to Trypticon in the solar system with cannons primed and hot as she stalked him in a predator/attack-ship like faction. Not listening to Perceptor or Roadbuster other than keeping a planet or the sun between her and the marble world and them. Trypticon flared his plates, showing off angles for a while, and then swung wide and away, back out of firing range of the Platform.
The two Metrotitans cruised around the system one more time before finding as close as an easy peaceful distance as they could. Each on the other side of system, hidden mostly from sight from Earth and its natives but able to eye each other with one being distrustful, the other admiring. Trypticon rumbled and rolled so his underside was facing the sun to bask and create energon. At the same time Xianthum nearly dove into the asteroid belt, tractor beams and manipulate graspers reaching for the nearest reasonable sized rocked to start crushing and processing into refined Cybertronian alloys.
"...she calmed down now?" Roadbuster asked from where he was crouched, looking over the lip of the Command Nest to meet Perceptor's wide optics. Her claws were fully extended and dug into the grips, while the Platform Manager staring sightlessly into space, "Shiela? Percy?"
"I... dare say that I need a cuddle..." Perceptor said slowly as she slowly came back to herself. She lightly touched the mind of Xianthum, "She is craving metal again... Foreman I am going to send a message to Metroplex to hurry up and get here before Xianthum's hull starts to split."
"Good idea," Roadbuster agreed before looking around the bridge, "Everyone alive?" He called, getting grumbling assents as mechs sat back up from the duck and cling reflex. "Good, time ta' work than."
"...frag you Foreman."
"Love ya' too Red!"
"A planet!" Hotrod cheered, throwing up his arms in a good spazz while at the same time spinning in a circle on his wheeled 'feet' before coasting up to the clear observation wall like 'window.'
Red Alert arched an optic ridge as she looked over, "Its a wet planet." She pointed out to the Foreman's progeny.
Wedge looked up from his spot against the observation wall, started. "Wet? Well, it is reflecting much light in a non-metallic way that we can see right now at Xianthum's current angle for echoes."
"Its mostly water," Red Alert corrected mater of fatly, her expression controlled as Perceptor turned her back to play along.
"I would suggest an aquatic alternate form." She added to her friend's game.
Sideburn squawked, more for the medic's words rather than the fact that Hotrod was climbing up the bigger blue mech's form to get to Sideburn's shoulders. The fallowing pause had all three youths as well as a few other mechs staring with wide optics at the two red femmies.
X-Brawn chuckled as he walked by, reaching out to run his larger hand over the helms of his younger brother- more charge, as well as the bright red Minibot, "Ya'll can still run around, there's plenty o' dry land on the planet." He laughed softly as the trio all revved in the equivalent of sigh before cheering in typical Wrecker fashion, then Sideburn and Hotrod pounced on Wedge to start in on a discussion of how what of their race track designs to try first on a planet's gravity.
"So, who is the boss bringing with him?" Drift asked from where he was leaning against the hall outside the bridge, reaching out to pull Perceptor against his pale form with one hand. He knew from the moment Xianthum had her grump at Trypticon thanks to their bond. He ran his hands up her sides before wrapping his arms around his mate to hold her against his chest and spark to let Perceptor fully calm down before the insanity of packing.
X-Brawn looked over at the two, "Small scale, tinny scale really." He snorted in distaste before drawling, "After talkin' wit' the Prime they agree to only do a few mechs. But he wants mah to pick out some of our micros and mini's tah pull a sneak." He motioned with his normal sized right arm. "But officially, it's the Foreman, Leadfoot, Topspin, Que, Mirage an' a few other mechs with the Autobot stamp. Or at least those willing to put one on."
"Unofficially?" Drift arched and optic ridge, looking down at Perceptor as she hummed and relaxed against him finally.
"The Insecticon drones, Shrapnel, Bombshell an' a scout Kickback." X-Brawn listed, "Blaster an' his minions, I'm sending Steeljaw tah watch Roadbuster's aft, and I was thinking of sending ya-"
Perceptor gripped white armor possessively and glared, the barrel on her shoulder clicking softly. "Excuse me?"
The head of security did the equivalent of rolling his optics as he continued un-phased, "-before we came in system, but with the Nemesis/Trypticon here I want you ta set up a strike force in case we need ta nip a problem in the bud before yar sparkling has hers." He nodded at the display window. "We still don't know when exactly Metroplex or Rapture is showing up."
Drift nodded, reaching up with one hand to scratch at his finnal panel, "Xianthum's ready to split her armor any time now... I'll get on that boss." His grin was almost feral and there was a hint of red in his sapphire optics for a moment while giving his mate a reassuring squeeze that he'd personally make sure there was no danger for Xianthum's offspring.
"Good, I need ta find a big kitten now," X-Brawn nodded to them before heading down the hall, grabbing a squawking Hotrod on the way to use the messenger. "Wedge! Roadbuster has a list of supplies for ya ta put together- get it off the Platform network."
"Aye!" the young Foreman in training called back, and with a parting word to Sideburn the golden Minibot loped off. He stopped only long enough to get the name of the shuttle to be used from the explode-y brothers Wheeljack and Que, hesitated but with Que's recurrence that it was the right shuttle headed off to organize the loading of supplies Perceptor had already had gathers, plus what Roadbuster wanted. And what Leadfoot demanded as well given that the planet had a lot of salt water on it.
In the insanity of packing, as Drift long ago dubbed it the chaos that resulted when ever Wreckers and Autobots get ready for a joint task, some things were overlooked or mis-translated.
Such as getting the wrong shuttle...
When those on the Xianthum heard, they were rather happy to be back on her, rather than on the shuttle the hit Earth's atmosphere with a protoform rattling shaking.
"Que!" Roadbuster didn't so much roar but thundered over the creaking, groaning shuttle as it vibrated and struggled against the heat and friction of planetary entry. The Foreman charged onto the bridge long enough to smack the blue and white mech on the back of the head, punch in a command where Que sat in the pilot's nest, "I said get a shuttle that can make planet fall- not planet drop! This is a moon rated thing yea blue aft-cracking slag stuffed maro'kila tu!"
Que winced not only from the throb on his helm sensors but from the ancient Wrecker curse, Roadbuster did start talking in half dead languages unless he was running stressed enough for his Datum to poor extra energy into him. "I'm sorry boss!"
"We have enough energon ta crack this rock yea Nancy Wanker!" Roadbuster continued as he waved over to another panel, yanking it open to plunge his hands it to splice wires, "Imma goin' ta rip yea and new one when we land- Fragging Primus on Drift's big pointy sword!" the blurted out one of Blaster's invented curses as the mech lifted his head, his currently red visor flashed white then black as the two on the small bridge saw the display of the ship overlaying the view of clouds. They had just enough time to recognize the reading as a thruster frailer before the shuttle banked sharply to port as that wing died.
Maybe it was a good thing no one could hear the ship full of screaming mechs, dignity flying out the metaphorical air lock for the time being. Though each and every Wrecker and Autobot would deny that they did so up, down and sideways, then turn around and mercilessly tease and badger the NEST humans who were the only ones able to monitor the shuttle (thanks to a group invention of Wheeljack, Que, Mixmaster and Perceptor that cloaked it). Thus the human party panicked in three shades as well when the shuttle went from semi controlled entry to erratically swinging from the intended water landing to eventually plopping in the high desert like they had been shot.
It was pure dumb luck that Que managed to plop as gently as a ship that size could plop on earth, landing skid/gears grinding into the desert earth, tarring up countless unsuspecting prickling pear patches, cacti, a middle aged tree, and a randomly placed mail box as well as part of a road way as the shuttle gently turned with the momentum of one wing thruster. Once the shuttle completely stopped, and the last mech was able to hiccup a last frightened blurk sound did any start heaving in air to cool systems back down and not only start scraping dignity back together but fitting some of the pieces back together.
"Well... we landed?" Que offered sheepishly after shutting down all thrusters. He winced as he was smacked by the Foreman again. "Okay I deserved that one too..." he said meekly, cowering away from the looming Roadbuster as his Command Signal pulsed out in an effective, silent scolding before the Master Of Subtlety cut loose.
It was a twenty local minutes later when Roadbuster got enough of his annoyance and rage out at Que's stupidly of not taking time to look at shuttle module numbers when that was his only job as everyone had other things to do. The Foreman had Seconds and Thirds for a reason slag it because he couldn't do everything himself!
When Roadbuster finally stopped to gasp in air to cool down again, he turned at seeing red, scowling at Mirage and then his optics flashed under the protective visor, "What the frag is that?" He demanded staring at the organic thing the other mech had.
"...we ran over a native Foreman." Mirage said slowly, leaning back from the red and black gaze of the Forman until he felt Topspin's armor on his back. The thing though was that he was speaking not in any dialect Cybertronian but one of the local languages. It sounded so strange aloud that it took a moment for the two wreckers to really notice the gaping, wide eyed, traumatized human clasped within the red Autobot's claws.
