TFPirates
MiragesTale
Copyright 2007, masterfwiffo. All rights reserved.
His eyes stare up at me, his trembling, fleshy mouth struggling to form words. "The- the treaty!" He protests. "The Quintessons said-"
"Absolutely nothing about Piracy." I answer, a twinkle in my eyes. "I should know, I've read them. We aren't partial to who's laws we break. You'll find that a common trait among my types."
The blubbering fool continues to try and protest, but I'm ignoring him now. It's too late for him, and he's well aware of it. I haven't actually decided whether or not I'll kill him yet, but I'm thinking about it.
"Sharkticon," I turn with a nod to my first mate, "An update if you please." I know it annoys him when I ask him to check things for me, but I do it all the same, just for that fact. He grunts something which I choose not to hear, and flips open his comm. "Shortround?"
"Everything's cleared out sir!" His young voice chirps back. "We're clear back here."
"Repugnus?" Sharkticon continues down his checklist.
"Last of the resistance is now... err... sterilized." His voice grates.
"Cannonball?" He checks in now with our helmsman.
"Aye! Ready t' set sail, Sir!"
I turn back to the captain of this small vessel, staring down at his fleshy, reptilian face. The pathetic look on his eyes sickens me - he didn't even have the guts to fight back himself, just sent some of his yes-men in a poor attempt to stop us, while he ran and hid. He isn't worth the time it took to spawn and grow his pitiful organic shell. I grab him around that blubberous throat, an easy task for my wiry mechanical fingers, and hoist him into the air.
"Please don't kill me!" He pleads. "You're Cybertronian! Do this, and the Quintessons will declare war on your homeworld-"
Another vain attempt to invoke treaties. Is that all this guy knows? "You still don't get it." I laugh. "Have you never heard of the Dread Pirate Mirage?"
"But- But you're-"
"A Pirate." I finish. Tired of the conversation, I snap his neck and throw his carcass against the wall. "Come Sharkticon." I call my first mate. "Let's leave this wretched little ship."
As I turn, I glance out the viewport and see before me the great skull-like symbol that adorns the side of our ship, the Sword of the Fallen, and I smile inwardly. A Pirate's life for me, indeed.
-----
"And that would be Mate." He announces as he moves his piece into position, capturing my Lieutenant in the process. "You lose yet again."
"Indeed I do." I answer, leaning back in my seat. "Another match well played, my dear Sharkticon."
He flicks his eyes upwards at me. "I do believe I've told you I hate that term." He growls, his eyes narrowing under that pointed hood of his. He has of course, but I use it all the same. I glance out the window behind him, watching the stars become streaks of light that seem to stretch into infinity. It's a beautiful sight, the passing of hyper-space, one I highly encourage seeing, if you haven't already. It's something I could stare at forever, if I so chose. With a lazy, almost reflexive movement, my hand comes down and connects with the hard metal shell that is the head of my pet. Doomlock looks up at me, a contented, dopey smile on that reptilian face of his, as my metal fingers scratch his metal skull affectionately, producing a sound pleasing to no audios but our own. Sharkticon glances at me in annoyance, the metal place that is his face hiding what I know from experience to be a smirk. I know what that smirk is for. Seeing me now, few could believe that I am called the Dread Pirate Mirage, feared on all the space-lanes for my ruthlessness, power, and tactics. My ship, the Sword of the Fallen, is the fastest in the space-lanes, and one of the most heavily armed. I've been in fire-fights with everyone from Autobot supply convoys, to Decepticon War-Scout fleets, to a brush with the Quintesson Armada, and no ship could claim to have survived as many battles. Elsewhere, even as close as the bridge, my name is whispered under hushed breath, and my appearance brings respect and terror. Not to brag, but I am possibly the most notorious Pirate in the galaxy.
Here, in my quarters with my most trusted friend and lieutenant, is the only place I allow myself to relax. The stars pass in front of me, forever stretching on behind us. Where we are headed, not even I know. The solar winds determine our course, and fate determines what we find. It's always been good to me before.
"The universe in front of me," I whisper to none in particular. "And a thousand stars behind. What more could a bot ask for?"
"A better opponent at this game." Sharkticon mutters, meticulously replacing the pieces to their starting position.
I laugh. "And that, my dear Sharkticon, is why I keep you around."
He rolls his optics at the name. I wish I could smile back in return. I continue to watch the stars, and a bright one catches my optic as it zooms past. For some reason, it triggers a memory, deep within me, one I do not wish to remember. My hand leaves Doomlock's head, and he gives a grunt of disappointment. It wanders up to the etching on my chest, faded now, but the lines still there. The Decepticon symbol that graces it is but a memory from another age, where my name was different, my potential was great, yet I was left fighting for a cause I didn't believe in, for no reason other than I liked the enemy less.
I sigh. Those memories are hardly pleasant.
A sharp rap on the door catches my attention. Immediately, my vocal synthesizer kicks in, dropping my voice a few levels - Sharkticon is one of the very few who knows me for who I really am. Even my crew doesn't realize- well, never-mind.
I quickly get up. "Come in." I quickly call. The door opens, but he doesn't step in. Wheeljack salutes me. I wave away his stiffness, noting the scar that runs down a symbol he has on his chest as well - one I once hated. But those days are past for the both of us. "Yes, Wheeljack?"
"Captain," He says in that professional, matter-of-fact voice he has (something he never dropped from his war days), "Snowcat reports a ship within scanner range."
My eyes light up. At last, a chance to shine, and with luck, further my reputation. "Excellent. We'll be there in a moment. Return to your post!"
"Aye, Captain." He answers, and turns around. I turn back to Sharkticon, my eyes shining again. "Well, my dear Sharkticon, shall we go?"
"Sooner or later your Primus-damned luck is going to run out." Sharkticon mutters.
"Too bad I don't believe in Primus." I laugh, as I turn, my eyes darkening immediately and my posture straightening, resuming once again the mantel of the Dread Pirate Mirage. I march toward the bridge, Sharkticon at my side and Doomlock following obediently behind.
The bridge awaits me. As I arrive, every head snaps immediately to attention, turning and saluting - some from immense respect, others out of great fear. I ignore them all and head straight to Snowcat's station. Wheeljack is already hovering over the station, but he stands aside, making room for Sharkticon and I. Snowcat's visored face looks up at me. "Trading vessel," He reports, "J-43, I believe. Fast, but unarmed and unarmored. Judging by the direction, carrying goods to one of the outlying Decepticon or Quintesson colonies."
"Any war markings?" Sharkticon demands, beating me to the question.
"So far as I can tell, none. No obvious signature, at least." Snowcat finished.
"Prime target, I'd say." Wheeljack mutters. I note out of the corner of my eye that Windsheer, his youthful and quiet minicon, flies up and settles herself on his shoulder. I remember those times too...
I shake out of it. "All right men. I believe we found our target." And with that, I straighten myself, tall and proud. My eyes flare and come to life as the deep voice rises within me, bellowing outward with a sound that carries through the entire ship. "All-right you slaggers, on your feet! To your stations, all of you! We're about to engage!"
As expected, the rousing response of "Aye!" fills me with confidence, as I know they are all doing as I expect. Doomlock adds his own howl to the cry, scampering to my side as I take my appropriate place at the captain's chair, watching life unfold on my ship.
From his position at the helm Cannonball turns and salutes me. Wheeljack and Windsheer head for the weapons locker, Snowcat right behind them. Slugslinger ambles in, the wild look on his uneven face accenting his already primed and ready weapons. Repugnus hops in too, small wings on his bizarre animal mode flapping excitedly, transforming so he can flash his sadistic grin at me. Overbite comes in from the shadow behind him, ever with the serious look on his face. On the other side, Jackpot and his pet Sights stare at me expectantly, the former Autobot now ready to attack at my whim. And the smallest members of my crew, Oceanglide, Stormcloud and Waterlog, three minicons with a taste for blood as deep as my own file in and stand at the ready.
I glance over my crew, and notice one missing. "Captain!" A happy cry calls. I can't help but laugh as Thunderblast hurries in, her exuberant face a stark contrast to the rest before me. "I'm ready too!" She says excitedly.
Sharkticon groans and shakes his head. I know he doesn't care for her, but what can I say? She reminds me of myself in simpler times. "Of course you are." I turn away. "As are we all!"
A cheer meets me, and I grab the com, sending my voice down to the engine room. "Allright Quint, we need full power!"
Arc's face appears on the monitor in front of me, the Quintesson's expression of unending worry already signaling his protest. "Captain!" He cries, his five faces whirling rapidly so that each may gape at me, "I'll need some time to bring her up to full power and-" He's interrupted by a crash, as young Shortround stumbles past, trying to keep his grip on several storage boxes which inevitably keep one of the myriad of backup pieces the Quint uses to keep our ship working. "And he's not making it easy." Arc sighs.
"Just do it!" I bark harshly, secretly depressing the laughter that threatens to burst forth. Those two provide me no end of amusement, but do their job well.
"All right Cannonball!" I turn back toward him, "Forty-Five degrees to port, as fast as she can take us!"
"Aye aye, captain!" He whoops, grabbing the wheel with an enthusiastic spin. And then I bellow out to the ship, "All right boys, let's sail!" And the response that meets me is most welcome as the Sword of the Fallen leaps into infinity.
---
The planet below us is mostly blue, with several small continents splattered across its otherwise unbroken ocean. But the planet does not concern me - the small ship rapidly growing larger on my viewing screen does. It's narrow, round, and clunky looking - unthreatening and not pleasing to my eyes - rather, it's one of the ugliest ships I've seen. It'll be fun breaking it open.
"On your feet!" I holler out to the crew, "Overbite, Repugnus, man the cannons. Wheeljack, Slugslinger, Jackpot, Sharkticon, grab your swords and be ready to come with me." Everyone shouts an eye and hurries off to their duties. Thunderblast comes alongside me, though she had not been invited - but I knew she'd invite herself along anyway. I'll humor her. Doomlock too lets out a bark, and falls into place behind me obediently.
I stop and signal back to Cannonball. "Raise the colors!" I yell.
With a gleam in his eye, Cannonball grabs the main lever and yanks it hard. Outside the ship, I know six projectors flicker to life, splashing my symbol on the side of our ship, where it can be clearly seen against the stars. I know the mere sight of the fiery skull I chose for my flag a long time ago will send these traders into a panic.
With the colors up and our weapons ready, I signal to Cannonball. "To attack position! Repugnus, Overbite, Open Fire!"
The ship rocks as two heavy blasts thunder from our forward cannons. The ship in our view veers to right, barely missing one. Its engines flare, and the ship makes a mad dive toward the planet's atmosphere.
"Follow him, Cannonball!" I yell. Cannonball doesn't answer, but his optic focus's intently on the controls, as he pushes us forward into a dive, our engines screaming in protest as they propel us after the tiny, fleeing ship.
In front of us, the ship begins to glow bright red as it hits the atmosphere, spinning downwards into the hovering clouds. We plunge straight through it, our narrow stern cutting through the clouds with ease. We burst out of the cloud-bank, right onto the enemies' tail.
"Bring us alongside!" I holler, motioning toward my boarding party. "Let's get her men!" I race toward the boarding ramp, my crew-members right behind me. This is it, what I live for - the thrill of combat and the glory of battle, with our prey beside us now, it is time to strike!
I raise my sword in a wordless rally cry, and they all do likewise, all staring intently at me, waiting for me to lead them into battle. I love this part.
The hatch swings downward with a groan, and all of us are forced back by the sudden rush of air whipping through the compartment. I grab hold of the door and lean outwards, optics narrowing on our target, which is steadily growing larger as our engines bring us up to it. A moment later and we're alongside, a rounded portion of its hull in front of us.
"NOW!" I holler, and with careful precision, Wheeljack yanks a lever that sends two anchors shooting out from beneath our feet. They tear into the enemy ship and pull taunt as a bridge of energy solidifies beneath us. Jackpot and Slugslinger pull out their hull-buster cannons, and each fire two shots, tearing open a doorway. I signal to Sharkticon, and wink at Thunderblast, and then the three of us start forward along the energy bridge, creeping forward so that the elements racing past us do not throw us off. Our prey's ship shudders, attempting to pull away from our lock, shaking the bridge. But no, it's far too late for that. Escape is impossible - their cargo is ours, and unless they behave, their lives as well.
Sharkticon's voice suddenly fills my audials. "MIRAGE!" He cries, "LOOK OUT!"
I barely have time to see the tip of the laser turret pop out from beneath our 'unarmed' target before two blasts rip into our hull. I become aware of a hissing sound, and see the energy bridge vanish from under my feet. And suddenly, the elements overtake me as I fall. I see Sharkticon and Thunderblast grabbed by the other crew-members, Thunderblast screaming and Sharkticon staring wide-eyed straight at me - and then they fade away into the distance, replaced by an endless wall of water rushing up to meet me...
----
Crushing darkness surrounds me as I fall through nothing. I can't move... I can't see... Nothing, there is nothing. The pit... I'm here to suffer an eternity of punishment for my sins. That must be it. That's the only explanation...
Then I slowly realize that no demons are coming to punish me, that Unicron is not waiting below me... where am I?
I only now realize that I'm in vehicle mode. An aquatic surface-skimmer that can double as a sub-surface vehicle, my current form is tight and compact. It also appears to be in one piece, thank Primus. My lights flicker on, but to my dismay, all they reveal is more darkness. I must be underwater- I transformed and survived the fall, and am sinking to the bottom. Wherever the bottom is. Judging by the amount of pressure assaulting my systems, it must be pretty deep.
With a groan lost to the depths, the rotors that power my vehicle mode start up, slowly pushing me upwards. At least, I think it's upwards. I push, barely noting the miniature wildlife that stares curiously at me, then moves on.
It seems like I push upward against the pressure for eternity, but as time passes, faint traces of blue surround me. Then as I go, I can see the sunlight, the glorious sunlight slicing through the brilliant blue waters. A sigh escapes me - I survived, somehow. My form breaks the surface, waves cascading off me, as I now sit atop the sea.
Unfortunately, this seems just as bleak as the darkness below. No land greets my wandering eyes as I survey around me. Seems I'm stuck at sea.
Now what? I sit a moment, trying to sort out my best course of action. Unfortunately, all routes seem to end with me getting stuck here for the rest of my life, unless a miracle happens. Too bad I don't believe in Primus. A little faith might be nice to have sometime. A small bird lands on my hull. I ignore it for a moment, but when it begins scratching at my paint, I shake it off. My gaze follows it to the sky, and then to my shock, I see a miracle. Faint traces of smoke dot the sky - it must be the trail from our ship! Or, perhaps, our prey... Either way, it's something to be followed. If I believed in Primus, I might have thanked him, but since I don't, I'm quite content to set off after the trail.
----
The trail dead-ends some time later. I stare at the area in shock, refusing to believe what my sensors are telling me. It seems the smoke simply disappears ten meters above the water. What the slagging heck? It's just, gone. Did they crash?
If there's wreckage, it would probably be best to check it out. I fill the ballasts with water and duck below the surface.
The water is far shallower here, surprisingly so, given that there's no land mass anywhere. I can barely make out the bottom where I am. As I dive beneath the waves, I see a huge dark form below me. I speed up, going in for a closer look. The water's obscuring my vision, but I slowly discern what I see before me.
And it's not a starship.
It's a starbase.
The huge blocks jutting out at random angles, the wires and equipment - it's a star base, a mobile platform designed to function in deep space territories as an outpost, a resupply center, or a small colony. I've been on thousands like it during my lifetime, but an underwater one is a first.
It must have crashed here ages ago- no, there's not a scratch on it. It look like somebody deliberately put a Starbase underwater. It looks pretty recent, judging by the lack of sea-life covering it.
I also note a huge docking tube. They're designed to 'catch' fighters flying in from space, or to dock with larger ships carrying large amounts of goods. It appears to be mounted on pistons of some sort - they must raise it out of the water when a ship wants to dock. But who in Unicron's name would be docking out here?
Hrmmm, there's got to be some way into this thing. I look over it quickly, looking for- a pressurization hatch! That should get me in. I hope whoever's inside isn't paying too close attention to the monitors. I speed toward it.
I grab the hatch with a towline and pull it open, and the rushing water carries me inside. I hope the de-pressurization unit pulls water out too. I slam the door shut, and transform. Transforming underwater is no easy task, but I manage it. Once again in bipedal form, I reach out and start fiddling with the buttons. A moment later, there's a loud groaning sound, and slowly the water level starts to drop.
Finally, I'm standing again, thank Primus. I allow myself a brief, luxurious stretch and a moment to dry off, before opening up the door and peering into the hallways. Deserted. Not a spark in sight. Let's keep it that way, at least until I know what's going on.
Space stations are never exciting, but this one seems particularly barren. Doesn't look like this corridor has been used in years. Probably hasn't, come to think of it. I move along slowly, making sure my steps are light so as not to alert anyone who may still be lingering here.
The corridor seems to stretch on forever, the dim lighting casting an eerie gloom over everthything. Eventually I find a doorway, leading to a junction. I glance down both directions, and seeing both look the same, I turn right. Right has never failed me before.
I continue down this corridor, and find another doorway. I push on it, and to my surprise, I stumble into a huge corridor with signs of life - the dust that has gathered here has been stirred. Interesting. Were this station functional, it would be the main plaza, where all the activity would be taking place. Of course, there's nothing here now, and by the layout of things, there never was. But all this dust- it's like something heavy was dropped on the way, multiple times. Glancing both directions, it seems that the activity goes both ways. Once again, I'm going right. A very short distance and I find myself at a huge storage room - industrial sized, it probably could hold enough essentials to keep a station supplied for years. I could turn around...
But what the Pit. I put my weight against the massive doors and push them open enough for me to slip through.
Boxes. Lots of boxes. Hundreds of them, filling the entire storehouse, forming cavernous walls of steel. I head toward one for a closer examination. Nothing, no marks, no shipping labels, nothing. Hundreds of unmarked shipping containers, hidden in a space station underneath the ocean of a barren system. That's certainly not the least bit suspicious, no way. Smuggling is by no means a small industry in the galaxy, but I've never heard of anyone going to these lengths, on such a scale. Of course, that might be why I've never heard of them.
I find one box, and throw caution to the wind, I pull the lid open.
I would have expected weapons, spices, valuable minerals, or even slaves. I didn't expect a bunch of test tubes. Rows and rows of them, meticulously stacked. What the slagging hell is going on here? I pull one test tube and shake it gently. A small amount of a grayish powder moves around inside. It's a risk, opening a tube like this, but as a mechanical lifeform, I'm immune to things that would kill a fleshy in an instant. I open it up, and rub the powder on my fingers. To my surprise, it sticks. I try to wave it off, but it's clinging stubbornly. I wipe it off on the side of the box, and to my shock, the edge of my finger has turned a dull silver, like rust. And it seems to be slowly spreading...
I turn quickly, looking for something to get this off. To my relief, I spot a washroom in the main hall designed for organics, and duck inside. Fortunately, the water's working, I quickly rinse my fingers, and the rust fades.
With a sigh of relief, I let my head drop. The hell was that? My mind's racing, trying to figure out what kind of material could cause that reaction to a Cybertronian, but I'm coming up blank.
And then I hear something. I freeze as I hear heavy stomping followed by a mechanical whir. I peek outside and there before my eyes is the biggest exo-suit I've ever seen. Exo-suits are designed to help organics with load lifting, and this one is massive. Next to it is a fleshy of some sort... Yellowish and lanky, a ridge along its head, fishy looking face... Like most organic species, it's about a head shorter then your average Cybertronian (though some, like Nebulans, are half that size), I think it's a Zetoxes. I glance up at the massive exo-suit, and another Zetoxes is piloting it. I then note just what the suit is carrying on its back - a dozen or so more of those unmarked boxes.
The Zetoxes on the ground is yammering in that language of his, and it takes a moment for my translator to pick it up: "I'm telling you Thull, I heard something!"
"You're always hearing things." His companion grunts, pushing his exo-suits arms against the doors. "You've been hearing things since you got here."
"No I heard something, I swear!" The small one whines.
The exo-suit turns around, and then crouches, a lift on its back slowly bringing the boxes to the ground. "Whatever Tirese. Just don't set off the fire system again, ok?"
I don't like these two already.
"But you saw the pirates!" Tirese is continuing to whine, "They got here, I know it!"
"They turned tail as soon as we hit their ship." Thull answers casually. "Typical pirates, all show but as soon as you show your teeth, bam they turn tail and run."
I'm not sure which to be angrier about, the slight against my profession, or the fact that my 'brave' crew deserted me. Damn it, it was probably Sharkticon. Turned and ran like a coward. Not that I blame him - should I have died, I would have wanted him to lead my crew to safety - in fact, I had so ordered it a long time past. I know that my crew could be in no better hands, but couldn't he have at least made sure I was actually dead first? If I ever find him I'll wring his scrawny little neck-
"Hey, one of the crates is open!"
Uh-oh.
"You didn't open it when you put it down, did you?"
"Of course not, this one was already here. Look, one of the tubes is missing."
"Oh slagging hell. Go run and tell Allel, and get him down here. Maybe you were right about hearing something."
Not good. I can stay where I am, run for it, or fight for it. Unfortunately, I'm a little short of weapons at the moment. Lovely. So much for the fight option. Doubt I could run without being seen, and that would lead to fighting, which I already ruled out. Damn. Stay here it is. I wedge myself into the doorway, and keep still. Maybe if I keep my eye on them, I'll learn something...
Tirese scurries past, muttering fearfully to himself. I peek out at Thull, who's moving around the boxes cautiously, probably looking for signs of me. I hope I didn't leave any tracks in the dust that are going to lead over here...
I hear another noise, and Tirese returns, with who I assume is Allel. Not a Zetoxes, he's a large reptilian with a hideous purple coloring - not a species I've seen before. He and Tirese are both carrying large, mean-looking blasters that I might admire, if I didn't know they would probably be pointing straight at me in a moment.
"How you clumsy oafs messed this up, I'll never know." Allel swears. "If Lord Gyconi finds out, he'll execute you personally!"
Gyconi? Where have I heard that before...
"You were the one who told us to make a run down here." Thull grunts.
"Don't contradict me!" Allel screams shrilly. "Just spread out, and find the intruder. And then kill him!"
I remain still as they split up. Thull begins tromping down the main corridor, and Tirese heads back the way I first came. Allel watches them go, and quickly runs back to start looking over the boxes. Sensing an opportunity, I leave the safety of my hiding place, and sneak into the warehouse, crouching behind the containers as Allel starts going through them, muttering to himself.
"Slagging no-good Quints," He growls, "Just had to get the monopoly on this stuff, didn't they. All this secrecy and effort, for what?"
Quintessons, eh? The five-faced half-mechanicals, half-biologicals are a major power in this sector, and before the civil war, the only power that could match Cybertrons. What are they up to? Time for some interrogation tactics. I reach to the ground, fumbling for something to use as a weapon. I find a small bit of glass- the test tube I had before. Hrmm... Might work.
He's still muttering. "Couldn't settle on common smuggling, no, had to get all this secretly locked up and-"
Using careful precision and lightning reflexes, I run up and grab him from behind, wrapping one arm tightly around his neck. With my other hand, I press the test-tube's open end into his back, hoping he'll think it's a gun.
He squawks in surprise, and becomes very still.
"Lock what up?" I say cooly, making sure to moderate my voice to the most threatening tones possible.
"No-nothing." Allel stammers.
"Better answer," I say, tightening my grip, "Or you might be headed on a one-way trip to Unicron's maw."
"It's Cosmic Rust!" The lizard bleats out.
"Cosmic... Rust..." A memory of an old story comes back, an incurable virus that only Cybertronians and other mechanical lifeforms are susceptible to. Enough in your system, and it spreads, rotting your insides and eating away at your spark, until only a lifeless husk remains a few days later...
"Why?" I hiss.
Allel gulps, but says nothing.
"Answer me!"
He remains quiet. His loss. I drop the test-tube and in one swift movement, reach up, grab his head, and snap his neck. He drops to the ground, and I wipe my hands on my legs. "Two to go." I mutter.
I turn to head out, but I can't stop mulling over that revelation. Cosmic Rust? What do the Quints want with Cosmic Rust? Though not fatal, it would still be exceedingly dangerous to them... And so much of it - why, enough to wipe out... Cybertron?
BLAM! A bolt misses me by centimeters, and I whirl, to find Allel getting up weapon in hand, but his head still twisted at the angle I left it at. I can't believe my eyes.
"That hurts..." He hisses, "But you shoulda made sure it killed me, first." He aims at me and fires again, barely missing. I dive aside and he swears again - apparently the pain is affecting his aim. That, or he's a glitchy shot to begin with.
He lets out a deep throated howl that echoes through the station, and I bolt deeper into the storage area. It'll be difficult for them to find me - or at least, shoot me without hitting their stuff.
I hear Allel's other two goons run in - the light footfalls of Tirese and the heavy clanks of Thulls exo-suit. Great. I hear Tirese shriek in horror, "What the hell happened to you?"
""No worse than a busted arm." Allel gasps. "He's in here. Spread out. And if you break anything, Gyconi will kill you!"
Oh boy. I crouch down in-between several stacks of containers. Allel remains standing in one place - he doesn't seem to have much energy left to move. Good. Tirese begins slinking off to one side, circling warily, and Thrull in his mech stomps forward, cockpit moving slowly to each side, looking for me. I remain still for a long moment as they move past. Thrull stomps right by without noticing me, and I can hear Tirese's skittish movement on the other side. Him, I know I can take out - his neck is vital, thank Primus.
I peer from behind my spot, and see Tirese, head looking back and forth warily. Ok, I have one shot at this. If I can take him out, I might be able to outrun the exo-suit... It doesn't seem very fast. One chance at this... Ok... NOW! I leap. Tirese barely gets a chance to turn. I hear Allel yell, but all my attention is focused on Tirese. He lets out a very pitiful cry, his blaster firing aimlessly as I wrestle him to the ground, grab his neck and snap it. He gives a gurgling sound, then flops on the ground before ceasing to move.
I grab his gun and whirl, to see Allel inching toward me. He and I fire our weapons at the same time - his blast nicks my arm, mine bores a hole through his chest. He gives a cry and collapses. Two down, now-
Behind me, an entire wall of boxes explodes outwards as Thrull's machine charges. I don't have time to move before a massive arm swats me aside, sending me hurling through the air. I hit a group of boxes that collapse on top of me, spilling their contents all over me. Immediately, a burning sensation fills my entire body. I'm covered in the cosmic rust. Oh sweet Primus, I'm going to die.
A huge claw grabs my foot and suddenly I'm in the air again, and then the ground is rushing up to meet me. I can't move before I'm in its grip again, and again being thrown around, almost casually by Thrull. I hit the floor with a sickening crack- the Rust is rotting away my integrity. Much more, and I'll simply break. I fumble on the ground blindly, and my hands close around the gun - I must have dropped it. Pain sears my systems as I roll over, firing blindly. Thrull gives a sudden yell, and his exo-suit stumbles backwards. I must have hit him. I turn and aim with the last of strength as Thrull struggles to get back up, and I fire again, once, two, three times. The first two miss, but the third finds it's target. Thrull cries out and slumps forward onto the controls - his contraption collapses on itself.
I lie there for a long moment, staring dully at the ceiling. I did it... I took 'em all out... Too bad nobody will ever find out. I let my optics close. Everything hurts now. I guess this is it - not my chosen way to die. But at least... I took 'em with me. I feel the floor below me shake suddenly as I drift offline...
---
My optics open to a bright light. The Allspark? I made it? Is that... Primus? No... the setting, it's too familiar. My eyes come into focus, and I realize I'm in my quarters, aboard my ship. I'm... home... And I'm not alone.
"Welcome back, Captain."
I close my eyes again and let peace flow over me for a moment. "Sharkticon," I wheeze, "You spawn of Unicron..."
I know him well enough to know that underneath his mask, he's smiling back at me.
"Primus damn your luck." He says cheerfully, patting my hand. "Good thing Overbite recognized Cosmic Rust, or we might have brought it onboard with us. Fortunately, they had the antidote there too."
"Oh?" I ask, keeping my optics closed.
"Yes. Shortround hacked their computers and found everything. The Quintessons were planning to seed the rust in Cybertronian colonies. Unknown to them, our little group there was planning to sell the antidote and make a fortune. We've destroyed the base now, and nobody will be seeing either of it again. After some appropriate pillaging, of course."
"How'd you know I was alive?" I ask slowly.
"I didn't. We pulled back to make a search for you as soon as you fell, but had no luck. Failing that, we went after the ones who did you in, hoping for vengeance. Took us awhile to realize they were underwater, but by the time we got there, you'd beaten us to the punch."
"That's good to know..."
Sharkticon leans down. "You might want to modulate your voice. The rest of the crew is anxious to see you."
"Are they now?" I say softly, peering out and seeing a small crowd at my doorway - Thunderblast, Shortround, Wheeljack and Doomlock. I let my voice get loud enough to hear, "Well tell 'em the captain says to get back to their posts! That goes for you too."
"Of course, Captain." He says gently.
My optics shoot open. "What was that?" I demand.
"Err, I mean, AYE AYE, SIR!" He whirls and marches out, ushering the others away. I knew I could count on him. I turn and gaze out the window at the stars, and the slowly shrinking blue planet. Then the planet stretches into infinity, and the stars into streaks of light. Doomlock rushes into the room, and nudges his snout against me, and my hand wanders weakly up to his head. The Universe before of me, and a thousand stars behind. What more could anyone ask for?
As far as I'm concerned, nothing.
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