Drive and Duty

by Tm2 Dinobot

Reporting for duty with a new unit, young Autobot scout Dart discovers old friends. Polaris, Rodeo, Lieger and their commander, Beamer. Things aren't quite how Dart remembers though, as he tries to get past his personal grief.

Drive and Duty

by Sam Ford

"Touch down in three cycles. Prepare final checks for prisoner transport."

The loud speaker blared over head, alerting the security team of their imminent landing. Amateurs. Dart could tell they were landing, just by the pitch of the engines and the shimmy in the tail. These CDC Autoloopers knew nothing about speed, or machines, or what it meant to be free. Ironic that he was the one in binders right now.

The glowing rings sizzled against his wrists, not burning, just letting him know they were still there. Dart grinned at the black and white security trooper as he walked by, checking the binders on the other prisoners. As soon as he was past Dart rolled his optics. Idiot. If these frag jockeys thought some low grade security systems would keep him back they had another thing coming. He was The Dart. As soon as those doors opened he'd be gone.

The transport touched down with only a slight servo crunch. Whoever was in the cockpit might not have known how to fly, but they sure knew how to land. Probably why they were on transport duty. The security transport was a stripped down, de-fanged gunship. If this had been any kind of battle field the doors would have been open as soon as they hit atmo. Not that Dart had any experience with that.

"Alright, you slag heads. On your feet."

The trooper had seen better days. He wasn't much to look at, but he was big, and had a glint in his optic that meant he'd been around the circuit once or twice. Maybe busting out of here wasn't going to be so easy after all.

The doors opened. The black femme in the front row tried to make a break for it. The trooper didn't even bother with a shock stick. Dart just heard the crunch of metal and watched her double over. The red Autobot tried to quell the little compassion inside that hoped she was okay. Compassion got people killed. He needed to be smart, smarter than that trooper. The big guy was fast. Running was definitely out.

The prisoner line slowly descended from the transport double file, the spot at the front noticeably absent. Dart found himself towards the rear of the line, stepping over the fallen girl. He knew he should keep moving. It was the smart thing; this wasn't any of his concern. But something about the slump of her shoulders told him he had to know, he had to make sure.

"Hey." Dart knelt down where others had simply walked around. "You okay?"

This time they used the shock sticks. Twice. Dart felt his insides fry as his Energon tried to find the fastest route to evacuate. His vision snowed red as the big trooper used the butt end of his stick on Dart's cranium. She reached out, touching his hand as they hauled him away, rolling him off the transport. Dart had paid alright, but at least now he knew the girl was alive. And she'd walk again. That was a personal relief that did little to quiet the cold ocean of guilt swimming inside.

The prisoner line filed into the detention office, deep into the shadows where light might never been seen again. Not that Dart was particularly used to Cybertron's distant sun. He'd never seen it growing up. Still, he supposed it was more symbolic than anything else. As they hauled him towards the rest of his life Dart made sure to watch the distant star twinkle away its warmth. Poetic.

They were dragging him closer now. If Dart were planning on escape, this was that moment. He wasn't sure he could outrun two guards on only an emergency Energon supply, be he was going to find out. If only he could transform, these two clank-sparks wouldn't stand a chance against The Dart.

Internally rerouting his emergency supplies, Dart watched the blue sports car pull up. Earth class. Human model. Dart hadn't ever seen a human car before. But of course it was just another Autobot, coming to watch the lowest of his race. Still, nice lines. Dart wondered how fast he was.

"Sergeant?" The Autobot transformed, walking over with a datapad in hand.

"You're not allowed to be here." The trooper dropped Dart's arm. Sergeant, hum? Interesting. This could be his chance.

The blue bot flashed his security clearance. "I'm here to accept custody of prisoner number C-384. Here's the transfer order."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Good. Now the second guard was loosening her grip. Just a little further and Dart would be outta here.

"Take a look at my numbers. They're all in order." The blue bot kept the datapad extended.

"Look, bub-"

"That's lieutenant to you." Now the female's grip was barely anything. Apparently they'd all forgotten about Dart even while arguing about him.

"Look, sir. I really don't care who you are or where you're from. I've got a load of bad Quint eggs to lock down, so if you're excuse me-"

Dart was gone. He didn't care who saw him, there was no time for stealth. He just ran like a maniac, desperately wishing he could transform and drive away. He had about ten cycles of emergency fuel before he passed into stasis lock and died. But ten cycles should be enough. He was fast after all, faster than anything these bozos had seen. As soon as he lost them he'd find the first transport out of town and then he'd be back safe and sound on level thirteen thirt-

Dart was right; the blue bot was fast. He'd transformed and drifted around the front of Dart where he had a nice juicy fist waiting for him. He went down. Hard. He couldn't quite be sure what danced around his head, but he knew there was something there as the blue car shook out his hand. Dart's vision kept fading in and out, be he could still hear.

"Nice catch." The big sergeant walked up. "I'm looking forward to getting this one alone in a cell."

"I'm sure you are. Now, about that transfer?"

"You still want him?" The female trooper spoke up for the first time.

"Of course. Like I said, all the paper work is in order."

"I told you before, this is my prisoner-"

"Sarg?"

"-And you're not getting him-"

"Sarg?"

"-I don't care if your orders come from Optimus Prime himself- What is it, corporal?!"

"Sir, this transfer order is signed by Optimus Prime."

There was silence after that. Dart thought he'd finally died until the sergeant's voice came back profound and low. "You know Optimus Prime?"

"I was stationed on Earth for a while." The stranger obviously shrugged. "So, can I have him, or what?"

"Absolutely! I mean, if you still want him. As you can see, he's quite a handful."

"So I gathered. It should be fine."

"You want us to stun him again for you?"

"No, it'll be alright." Dart felt himself drifting away. "I've got plans for this one."

---

Optics slowly blinking back online, Dart knew something was different. The air didn't feel the same; self contained, recycled. There wasn't that tell-tale taste of planet fall. Dust in the oral receptors. This was another ship. Not the transport though; smaller, faster. The pitch of the engines were too high. The only sound he could make out came from the subtle shifting of the being next to him.

"You can wake up any time. I'm not going to hurt you."

Dart shifted his view to the blue Autobot next to him, the one with the fist of titanium. They were alone in the cockpit of a two-seater puddle jumper used in making short runs to Cybertron's moons and back. At least it wasn't the penal colony.

"How am I alive?" Dart croaked, his processors still coming online. His HUD diagram showed no internal emergencies.

"Please." The stranger smiled. "You weren't anything that two E-rations and a stasis nap couldn't cure. You're tough."

"You don't know the first thing about me." Dart shot back. Not only had he freed him from prison, but now this bot had saved his life as well. Not that Dart had any intention of repaying the debt.

[Entering Atmosphere in Two Cycles]

"What was that?" Dart looked around.

"The computer." The bot reached forward, flipping a few switches. "I had it on auto-pilot, but I like to take it in manually. Ever seen Cybertron from space before?"

"I like to keep my wheels on the ground where I have some traction."

"Most Autobots do. I figure if it weren't for the Decepticons, we'd never have left the planet. Autobots just don't dream of flying."

"Not all of them." Dart muttered to himself. She was never far from his thoughts.

Falling through the terminator, Dart watched the planet fade into night. He'd seen the surface before, but usually through the glare of flood spots, and never from this high up. His planet was beautiful, a sparkling crystalline jewel of progress, millions of years in the making. The night even hid the war torn scars. Almost.

The lights twinkled like tiny florescent bugs, illuminating the major cities and the tiny hamlets. The rust sea appeared as nothing but a dark blotch in a lifeless void, while Iacon, far north at the pole line, glowed like a beacon of hope to the entire universe.

"She sure is something, isn't she?" The Autobot asked.

"I've seen better." Dart shrugged. He hadn't. As long as he'd live he would never forget this moment. "What's that reddish splotch?"

The bot only took one glance. "That's Praxus."

"Why does it glow like that?"

"The Decepticons bombed it. Utterly destroyed it. We can't go anywhere near that, the RAD levels will melt your armor."

"That's... terrible." Dart tried to imagine the radioactive winds wiping out the life on all the levels. "Were there any survivors?"

"One." He piloted them down, heading for Iacon's suburbs.

"What happened to him?"

"He wandered out three days later and marched straight into Autobot HQ. He's on Earth now, with Optimus Prime. You'd like him. He's got a mouth on him too."

Great, another jokester. As soon as this hatched popped, Dart would be parsecs away. He couldn't wait to burn rubber again. On Cybertron there would be a lot better places to hide out than the penal colony. Maybe he could even score some upgrades.

As they flew in low, Dart gave a glance at the medical tower. Maybe packing all their wounded into a giant spire wasn't the most strategic of military moves, but Dart had to admit it looked damned impressive. Green and white, it glowed in the evening, allowing everyone for miles around to see the hope brought by the Autobots. False hope. There wasn't anything they could do.

Sliding low onto a platform, the Autobot shut down the systems while the hydraulics lowered them into an underground hanger. Glinting steel blue, the hangar appeared cleaner than Dart would have thought. The tools were mapped and lined out along their racks as if someone with crossed circuit disorder had been organizing everything. He could see floor jacks, grav lifters, spanners, saws, bolt removers and power pack gauges. A perfect all-around workshop.

And there in the middle, taking up most of the hanger from wall to wall, hunched a beautiful golden-orange Autobot shuttle. Emblazoned with the red crest, it would be impossible to mistake it for the other side, going by shape and color alone.

"Beautiful, isn't she? That's the Valliant. Fastest thing this side of the God's Eye Nebula."

"Is that so?" Dart realized his interest had been showing. It may not have had wheels, but it was fast. He'd need to take a look inside. Maybe he could steal it?

Setting the platform down, Dart's host popped the hatch. He was about to make a break for it when two other Autobots rounded the other side of the Valliant. Both looked like they'd seen more than one day in combat, though the big, hulking, orange brute might be able to snap Dart in half like cheap lead. The red sports car, on the other hand, strode with the confidant ease of a skilled martial artist. He was good, and he knew it too. There was no way Dart could take down either of them, and even the car looked plenty fast enough. He'd need a new plan.

"Hey." The blue bot hopped out.

"Howdy." The big one greeted. Dart tried not to gag as he choked on the thick Tyrestian accent. Someone had sure upgraded on the Energon processing farm. "How'd it go?"

"Well, I got him." The blue one thumbed back to Dart. "Where's-"

"I'm here." The voice rounded the corner.

And Dart's fuel rod stopped. Walking towards him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He didn't usually got for the muscle car types, but Dart was ready to make an exception. Here was a stunningly beautiful Autobot femme, with red and white paint apps and legs that went all the way up. Fast, powerful and beautiful. Dart had to know her name. And when she smiled? All plans of escape instantly left him, like the flap of the checkered flag in 9th place.

"Ah, good. Everyone's here. Guys, this is Dart.

"This is the one you spent three deca-cycles hunting down? Doesn't look like much." The red sports car jibbed.

The blue one with the helmet coughed. The great big orange one smiled, and then changed accents entirely. "I say, Lieger, I do believe he didn't want him knowing that. If my calculations are correct-"

"Ahem." The femme cleared her throat, stepping forward. "Hi, Dart. I'm Polaris."

Dart just smiled like a buffoon as she took his hand. He could hear chimes somewhere, or maybe agents of Primus singing and angelic line. Something. Her touch alone could have powered him for a thousand years, and combined with her smile, Dart was ready to pass into the Well of Allsparks now.

"This is Lieger and Rodeo." She pointed at the sports car and orange truck, respectively. "And, of course, you already know Beamer."

"Actually," Beamer stepped forward. "We haven't been formally introduced. Dart, welcome to the Hearth."

"Wow." Dart looked around, pretending to be suitably impressed while keeping all his attention on Polaris. "Nice place."

"Eyup. Used to be a 'Con base." Rodeo changed accents again. What was up with that?

"You guys make a habit of cleaning up after the Cons?"

"Only when they make better equipment." Lieger smiled.

"No Decepticon made that." Dart sized up the Valliant.

"Nope, this baby is all Autobot through and through." Polaris patted a landing strut. "67,000 metric tones of battle grade alloy, four filibuster-mark E engines, x8 factor hauling capacity, top and bottom rotating gun ports, reinforced shields and full internal accommodations. You won't find a sweeter ride in all of known space."

"What's the acceleration?" Dart ran a hand along the hull, drawing closer. Right now his feelings for Polaris were vying for a close second after this ship.

"She's got enough to kick your teeth in if you need it. Rodeo's the pilot, you should really ask him. I'm just the mechanic."

"Oh really? Is that why the stations are so clean?"

"You noticed that, huh?" Polaris ran a nervous hand along the back of her neck.

"Sometimes Polaris gets a might twitchy between missions. She can come off a bit strong, but you should see her right in the thick of it. Y'all ain't never seen her like ah did back on that glass moon, you remember Polly?" Rodeo grinned. "Cons were in spittin' distance and she just kept telling me to crank the engines. They just kept turnin' over. By the time we outrun 'em I wandered back and she had the engine room vacuum tight with nothin but a bit of tin foil. Had three of the four engines in that junk freighter strewn half across the dance floor. It was a mess."

"What did you do?" Dart turned back to Polaris, unable to hide his jaw hanging open. He missed the silent laugh between Beamer and Lieger.

"Oh, it was one of those old 108's. I stripped 1, 2 and 4 to boost the output on 3. Those old class T's don't have enough thrust to outrun a scraplet."

"So you just canalized three engines in mid flight? While running from Decepticons?"

"Yeah." Polaris almost blushed.

While the noob was keeping the gear heads occupied, Lieger lead Beamer off to the side, helping him unload the shuttle. "This is the kid you wanted?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Beamer, I've scraped better Deceptiscum off my foot."

"He's young. He'll learn."

"He's a felon."

"Who has been released into my custody."

"Yeah, and when he escapes, then what? Are you going to go down for his crime too?"

"Lieger, would you relax? Sometimes the entire world isn't out to get you."

"And sometimes it is! I don't know why you spent to long looking for this one kid."

"Because he special." Beamer glanced over at him. "And not for the reasons he thinks."

"You need to tell him. It's not fair to him. He's going to betray you. I'm telling you, first chance and he's gone."

"No, he's bonding. Look at him over there with Rodeo and Polaris."

Lieger glanced back. "Yeah, and have you happened to notice exactly where he's looking?"

"I know."

"When he finds out she's taken, what do you think he's going to do?"

"He's just a kid." Beamer protested, hauling in another pack.

"Exactly! So stop treating him like an adult!" Lieger followed him back.

"Wow." Dart took one last look around. Maybe these guys weren't so bad after all. "So what do I call you guys?"

"Well," Lieger grinned. "For a while we were calling ourselves 'Beamer's Screamers', but really Polaris is the only one who does the- OW! Hey! Okay, stop hitting me!" Polaris and Rodeo both took turns punching Lieger for his terrible, and completely expected, joke.

"You can call this home, son. We're more than happy to have you." Beamer put a hand on Dart's shoulder. "Let me grab my gear and I'll show you to your quarters."

Dart wandered around the shop for a few cycles. He really could use a place like this up tune his engine, maybe clock some speeds. There were perks to working for the Autobots apparently. He picked up a small holdout pistol someone had been tinkering with. Probably Polaris, but come to find out Rodeo was a scientist as well. How crazy was that?

This wasn't too bad. A nice steady flow of Energon, a quiet place to work. Maybe a few routine cargo runs. He wouldn't have to do any fighting, so it wouldn't really be like he picked a side. Lieger and Rodeo were talking off to the side. He was about to ask them about the local dives when their conversation brought his plans to a grinding halt.

"So she got another upgrade?"

"Eyup. Third one this month. I think Polly's addicted to those things."

"Man, I told her to lay off. Didn't I tell you I told her to lay off? She's going to over-clock and then where will we be? We'll be without a mechanic for months. Again. I can't believe this. Have you talked to Beamer?"

"Nope."

"Well go talk to him."

"Nope."

"You big robot. What are you scared of?"

"Polaris. You go talk to him."

The conversation faded as Dart's world took on a gray hue. Polaris, upgrades and over-clocking? No, it couldn't be. Not again. The flashbacks came unabated, sizzling his processors. The wrenching scream of metal on metal, almost as loud as her screams over the flames. Polaris was too good, just like her. She couldn't fall down that hole also. Dart went to find Beamer. He'd make him see reason. Even if it meant telling him everything, Dart would make him understand.

Turning the corner into what looked like a supply closet, Dart found Beamer. And Polaris. Locked in a very private moment. All of a sudden Lieger's stupid joke made sense. Polaris was the only one Beamer makes scream. Haha, very funny.

Fine. If that was the way they wanted it, they could keep it. Dart didn't need any of them; he never needed anyone. Beamer could just stay in the dark and watch his precious mate fall on her own. And Dart wouldn't be there to clean up the mess. He didn't owe these bots anything. He was out, through. Ladies and gentle-bots, The Dart has left the building.

Beamer wandered out a few cycles later, looking around "Has anyone seen Dart?"

"Yeah." Lieger stared at Rodeo for a moment who could only shrug. "He's gone."

---

The Kremzeek was the brightest spot on level 1313. Given that it used actual neon in its lights, and half of those were blown out, that was saying quite a bit. Dart never liked coming to level 1313, even when she was still with him. But they watched each others backs, kept one another safe. She'd beat off the thugs and he'd scrape the cyber leeches off her aft. It worked. It used to anyways. Now he was alone.

Dart fought off the surge of emotion. Now was not the time to, as the Earthlings called it, cry. No, he had work to do. Sidestepping the old hag begging for spare Energon chits, Dart summoned all his courage and pressed right through the Kremzeek's doors. If he thought it smelled bad outside, he wasn't in for any breaks.

Dark and moldy, the floor stayed constantly sticky with spilled energon, mech fluid and... other bodily excrement. Not all of it Cybertronic. Canoodling with organics just made his steel crawl. He needed to get in, get out and get on with his life.

The bartender eyed him as he walked across the floor. How could he not? He only had one eye. Two stripped down prostibots watched him hungrily like animals before their Destro smacked them back into place. One slinked across the garish couch, lounging in her feline alt mode. Dart often bragged he was not unversed in the ways of femmebots, even if it was all bluster. Still, he suspected even someone like Lieger wouldn't have a clue where to start with that one.

The music droned on, a thick Polyhex beat screeching in his audio receptors. He tried to filter it out, but the music had evidently been mix engineered to be un-ignore-able. The lights flashed in a pattern all their own, probably on a cycle left over from the last song. He didn't even know why it was on; no one was dancing.

Unlike Maccadams Oil House on sub-level 6 that catered to the experimental crowd, students wishing to appear just a bit edgier, and Decepticons-in-name-only mingling with Autobots-who-didn't-care, this was the true underbelly of Cybertron. It may have been possible to find a more dangerous dive, but Dart didn't know of one. Silently he fingered the palm blaster he'd stolen. He sincerely hoped he'd never have to shoot anyone. Again.

"Dart!"

Glancing around, Dart saw the being he'd come here to meet. Sitting off in the darkest corner, feet propped up on the table, sat Shakedown. The Paradronian-turned-Decepticon-turned-freelance-marketeer waved an arm. He was in surprisingly good health, given the company he was keeping.

"Shakedown." Dart walked over, trying to act tough.

"Long time no see, buddy. Have a seat."

There was only one other chair at the table, and it was currently occupied an unfortunate soul slumped over the plasma line. Catatonic? Dart didn't think he was dead. Gingerly he touched the bot on the shoulder, only to have him fall over. Dart swallowed hard as he took his place.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, he just had a little accident." Shakedown waved it away. "He'll be fine in the morning. Probably. Maybe. I think."

"Okay." Dart swallowed hard again.

"So, you're back down among the living dead, eh? Good for you. Glad to have you back. Not nearly enough young people around these days, what with the war escalating again and all. Care for a stim?"

Shakedown held out a tap wire, the energon inside glowing a sickly orange. Dart had always avoided running stims for Shakedown, and she had especially warned him against using them. Too many of Shakedown's customers ended up dead, and not from owing him money. Rumor had it that he brewed his batches in a waste disposal unit.

"No thanks." Dart politely declined.

"You sure? This batch is pretty powerful, if I do say so myself. It's part Nucleon, part Radium and just a hint of Cosmic Rust."

"Isn't that fatal?" Dart scooted back from the tap wire still offered to him.

"Iduknow." Shakedown shrugged, taking a sip himself..

The crossed circuit behind his optics indicated he'd been using recently. This was good, it would make him more open. It was also bad as it made him more dangerous. Dart just needed to get what he came for and leave.

"So I heard you started playing ball for the Autobots." Shakedown grinned.

"You heard wrong."

"You sure? I heard tell a story about you and a little girl and some Sky Raiders."

"You heard wrong." Dart repeated.

"You sure about that?" Shakedown was playing at something here.

Dart needed to change the subject. "If I were working for the Autobots, would I have just busted myself out of an Autobot holding cell?"

"'Suppose not." Shakedown sat back, swinging his legs down. "So what can I do for you?"

"I need information on the next race."

"Easy. The Pylon Driver outside of New Praxus. Runs through the hot zone. I suggest you stock up on electrum. Have a nice day."

And that was it. Their conversation was over and Dart hadn't even come close to his objective. That was the problem with Shakedown. He was a pusher, a user, a con man and a saint, and you never knew what side you'd get. Dart had to start anew.

"So, this race...?"

"Yes?" Shakedown was no longer in a playful mood.

"Look, Shakedown. I just busted out of prison. I don't have a credit to my name. But I can race. I have to race. It's all I know. Can you help me out?"

"I don't know." There was a hiss-crackle from the bar as someone lit up a cy-gar. "What's in it for me?"

"I'll give you half my winnings."

"I want 90 percent."

"90?! Are you crazy? I can't give you 90."

"Look, kid. I like you, so I want to help you out. But I've got to pay your entry fee, pay to get you on the track, pay to get you a number. I've got to bribe guards and search parties that you say are looking for you. I've got to pay off the CDC. That's really close to Iacon, bud. I've got my out of pocket expenses to put you up and give you some spare scratch. Plus I've got to have you tracked all the way there and back just to make sure you don't run out on me."

"I won't filch on you, Shakedown."

"I know you won't, kid. That's what Vorg here is for."

Shakedown thumbed behind him, and for the first time Dart saw the shadows move. He looked up, and up, and up. Crowded by the roof, Vorg hunched over, an absolutely massive beast that Dart couldn't even begin to identify. Slightly reptilian in nature, with boar-like tucks, he was obviously sentient given the clothes. Also mean, again given the clothes. When he first met him, Dart thought Rodeo was big. Now he thought him little more than above average. This brute could snap Dart in one hand without even trying.

"Oh. Vorg." Dart tried to muster bravado, even as his voice cracked. It came out apathetic. "'Sup?"

Shakedown laughed heartily and quickly became choked down in a coughing fit. "That's what I like about you, kid. You've got spirit. Tell you what, I'm going to give you 20 percent, just 'cause you're an old friend and one of the locals."

"That's great!" Dart wasn't in any mood to argue. Not after meeting Vorg.

"But you'd better pull this off." Shakedown took out a wad of credits and began fishing out large denominations. The CDC hated physical money and had been trying for centuries to eradicate it. It'd never work. The black market lived off of it. "Because if you don't, there won't be a second race for you."

"I know." Dart nodded.

Shakedown held the bills out before quickly pulling them back. "Ever."

Dart shivered just a little, taking the notes and putting them into storage. He wasn't sure how to get out of here gracefully.

"Is that all?"

"Vorg. Tag him."

Vorg moved with a speed that even Dart's electronic mind had trouble tracking. Within a fraction of an instant he was face down on the table, in the exact prone position the poor junkie had been in when he arrived. Vorg fished for something, and Dart thought Shakedown may have muttered some sort of apology, but he couldn't hear over the pulsing oh his spark.

Vorg put a massive mitt over Dart's head, releasing him to struggle all her wanted. Then there was a sharp jab in his neck. Dart screamed as the rod went in, welding itself to his joint frame. How could no one else hear his cries? Then he remembered the music. It wasn't for dancing, it was to muffle the screams. No wondered fleshies liked this place; Dart heard that some of them liked their own species much too far on the young side.

And then Dart was free. He scrambled away, staggering backwards as he rubbed his neck. The pain would ebb, but not for a while. He could only stare at Shakedown in horror as Vorg slunk back into the shadows. This was awful. Shakedown was useful from time to time, but Dart didn't want him knowing where he was at any given moment of the day. He was just one step away from running stims.

And then Dart realized his mistake. That was Shakedown's plan all along. He'd pay off the race officials and make sure that Dart lost. Then, instead of killing him, in an act of 'mercy' Shakedown would indenture Dart to work for him. Shakedown would then have the fastest drug runner this side of Kaon.

Too late Dart saw the trap, long after it had already sprung. Shakedown sat back, sipping his caf even while carnal moans punctuated the deafening music all around them. And he smiled. Dart felt sick.

"Say hi to your sister for me."

That was the wrong thing to say. Dart had a bit of a temper, but he didn't go flying off the handle. That was reserved for his sister. No, Dart's rage went deep and ran cold. It mingled with guilt and kissed shame. The world slowed down. Dart palmed his holdout pistol, praying whatever upgrades Polaris had made would be enough. He didn't care what happened, Shakedown wasn't going to get away with this.

Then Vorg twitched and reality sped back up to normal. No, he wasn't going to get away with this, but now was not judgment time. Even IF he somehow managed to get around Vorg and take out Shakedown, Dart was still caring a stolen blaster and dirty drug money. People would just say it was a deal gone bad, and that's not what he wanted.

No, there was only one way to stop Shakedown, and that was to beat him at his own game. Dart was just going to have to win this race, rigged or not. It might not solve all his problems, but it was the only option available to him right now. So be it. Watch out, Cybertron, The Dart is back!

---

New Praxus wasn't far, as the Buzzsaw flew, just a few kilometers to the southeast of Iacon. Unfortunately that didn't do Dart much good, slogging through the deep under city as he was. He only made it two kliks before hunkering down for the night.

Dart pulled his cloak closer, sealing out the dank and the chill. A million years ago coats and capes had been commonplace, a fashionable status symbol for the affluent and a necessary hold over for the poor. Cloaks remain in the under city a reminder of dark times. Eons of war had saturated the air with spent particles, elemental testimony to death and destruction.

Winds from the Sonic Canyons would sweep across the Rust Sea, stirring up the particles in the air and sending thick ion storms hurtling across the surface of Cybertron. During those times even the heartiest of combatants ceased fire, pulled their cloaks tighter and waited for the deadly winds to pass. If you were lucky they just sand blasted your paint job off. If you weren't, the ion discharge fried your systems forever.

Then there were the rains. The same polluted air stirred in with Cybertron's occasional natural weather systems, sending acid rain falling from the sky. Only a good cape kept the rain from eroding the servos and fogging the optics.

Years of filtration systems had swept up most of the pollutants in the air, so the blackout ion storms and acid rains rarely fell up top. Down here though, storms were still common, but they mostly consisted of liquid water. The pressure and atmospheric differences meant it could rain down here and a thousand levels topside they'd never even hear the rumble of thunder.

Bedding down next to a refuse pile of a crumbling wall, Dart powered down his non-vital systems, setting a low recharge and waiting out the dark night. He remembered many nights like this, the two of them waiting for Cybertron's distant sun to send some hope on their dark lives and dreaming of a better future. Now, years later, he was barely any closer to achieving that dream.

Images danced in his mind, loose fragments of memory replaying on continuous loop, corrupted data and unsorted files. Humans called them dreams. Dart called them nightmares. They always ended up the same, with the screech of metal, the twisted heat of the flames and her screaming even as Dart burned trying to reach her. This time though the voice had a face.

The girl from Pz-Zazz smiled up at him, her face broken and bleeding from where her slave masters beat her. The screaming continued, turning into the screech of Sky Raiders bearing down on them. Dart couldn't do anything but stare at his hands, covered in the blood of her owner, even as the Raiders opened fire. He felt the bolts slide into him with a searing flash of pain.

He awoke to the same pain, a petro-rat trying to gnaw its way into his eye. Flinging it off with a yell, Dart remembered how much he hated those things growing up. They liked being inside anything warm and electrical. Transformers fit that bill. With a quick glance at his chronometer he figured a two hour stasis nap was long enough. Time to hit the open road.

Down here in the forgotten yet familiar regions of the planet, speedy travel was next to impossible. Collapsed bridges, wild packs of mutants, parasites and Scraplets assured a slow drive. Soon Dart began to wonder if the risk of police forces was worth the extra speed. He decided to chance it once he hit the next crumbling causeway.

Topside the streets were much easier to drive. The problem was getting there. It took him three tries before finding a working turbo chute, and even that only got him to level 518. Still, at that level he'd be able to make it to the race on time.

Traffic picked up around New Praxus. The former military target had turned into a tourist attraction some years back, giving rise to a high end housing suburb for Iacon. More security, but more places to get lost. Dart headed straight for the hot zone.

"Hey you!"

Dart angled his mirrors backwards, searching the skies for police. Only when the black cycle pulled up next to him did he realize that someone in traffic was calling. The moto-bot angled in close for a conversation

"Hey, Dart? It is you! I heard you were back in town."

Dart could almost place the voice...

"Coatzin." Dart greeted. "Changed your alt mode again I see."

"Yeah, never can stick with a fixed set of wheels. What's the point of keeping all of them on the ground anyways?" she grinned, popping a wheelie. "Whatever keeps the track hot, right?"

"Yeah."

"You running the Pylon Driver today?"

"Yeah."

She wasn't getting much information out of him. "Well it's a few levels up. I'm about to drive the course. Care to come along?"

"Sure."

Following the black cycle femme, Dart pulled in close as Coatzin made for the bad part of town. Traffic lightened up significantly as the RAD count started climbing. Twice he knew he heard the hiss of CDC buzzers.

"This isn't good; we've got to get off this road."

"Relax, I've got it." Coatzin took the next right, dipping down. "So have you picked a side yet?"

"What side?" Coatzin was normally pleasant enough, but Dart always found her a bit too cheerful. Who was she to act like they were friends?

"A side in the war."

"Oh. That side."

"This is my last race. After this I'm headed to Earth to join Optimus Prime. I hear things are really picking up there. He's going to need all the help he can get."

"That's... Good for you." Dart lied. Great, another causality to propaganda, ready to throw herself on the machine. Why did it always have to be the cute ones?

"I thought for sure you would have been a lock for an Autobot."

"I don't want to talk abut this, C." Dart passed her, pulling ahead.

"I'm surprised they haven't approached you yet. I mean, I know you. The Decepticons aren't your type. You're too nice and kind. Anyone who chooses to be a 'Con has got to be the dirtiest type of-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Shouted Dart.

Dart stepped on it, leaving Coatzin choking on his dust. He took the curves far faster than he should, drifting around into the oncoming lane. There wasn't any traffic though. They were low enough to be out of the tourist trails. It was just him and the open road.

For the first time in months Dart gave it everything he had, feeling the thrum-thrum of his own body that just felt so right, hearing the CHH CHH as he down shifted. He opened it up and just glided, floating through the streets like mercury on ice. He relaxed, forgetting the police, the mafia, the Decepticons and the drug lords all after his tail. He forgot about Coatzin and the Autobots and her leaving and the fact that he was too shy to say twenty words to her in all the time he'd known her. He could hear her calling out him name, far behind. He ignored it, living in the moment. He just coasted, just breathed; just flew.

Then there was no more road. It just stopped, sheering down into the largest crater he'd ever seen. Dart hit the breaks, tires screeching as he willed himself to stop. Too fast, it wasn't going to work. In desperation he transformed, pinwheeling his arms even as he dug in his heels, leaving spark marks as his toes went over the edge. Stepping back away from the drop off, Dart planted his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Coatzin roared up behind him, transforming.

As far as the horizon was nothing but an empty expanse of an open wound, a massive crater filled with the rusting remains of skyscrapers and the lingering heat of still-smoldering fires. Dart stepped away, the heat exposing tender memories. Nothing lived, nothing moved; it was a death mark on the face of Cybertron.

"What happened here?" Dart barely heard himself ask.

"Megatron." Coatzin stepped up, staring out at the rusting remains of the once-great city. "Welcome to Praxus."

"Megatron did this?!" Dart could hardly believe it. Seeing it from orbit was one thing, but standing here...

"Some kind of new bomb. Prime sent the Dinobots in and they destroyed the facility, but it was already too late. 22 square kilometers, who knows how many millions dead. One survivor."

Dart turned, walking back the long road which he'd just driven. He tried not to be sick, pushing down the thoughts into the place that didn't matter. He'd survive, what did any one else matter?

"You're just leaving?" Coatzin called after him. "Doesn't this make you want to do something?"

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Join the Autobots. Fight!"

Dart stopped, hanging his head. "This isn't my war. I've got enough problems of my own."

"The Decepticons are everyone's problem." Coatzin called after him.

"Not mine." whispered Dart.

She was still standing there as he drove away.

---

The Velocitron circuit was perhaps the most famous race in the galaxy. Thousands of beings from a myriad of worlds attended, and billions of cheering fans watched the televised results. The rules were known and abided on by all the racers, and each had the begrudging respect for the others. They were all the cream of the crop. It was the panicle of standardized racing, all atmosphere and pomp surrounding the sport. Money and fame flowed like water all around the track, bathing everyone it touched. It was a place Dart knew he would reach; some day.

The Pylon Driver, on the flip side, was a dirty alley race down deserted streets. The contestants were killers and thugs who were there for the thrill of murder more than the speed. The rules were virtually non-existent, and the only eyes watching the track were those betting. Gamblers, pushers and slaves outnumbered racers a hundred to one. Dirty cops turned out in droves, and not a single medic was to be found.

This was the bottom rung of racing. Dart had nowhere else to go. The two time semifinalist had fallen as far as he could. Any lower and he would be up on blocks. He'd seen that scenario first hand; he didn't want to end up like his sister.

Hooking up the NitroEn canisters up to his forearms, he coughed slightly as he felt the first of the pressurized gas flow into his system. He refused upgrades, but this was a pinch. Every little bit helped. Besides, the chances of this year's production run exploding were 1 in 17. Virtually no danger.

Walking up to the start line, he ignored the catcalls and jeers from onlookers. He needed to concentrate on that checkered line. The Pylon Driver's rules were simple. No firearms or explosives, and you had to race with tires. That was it, and his competition displayed it.

There was a feral-bot that appeared to transform into some kind of Terran sports car, A purple brute with a Decepticon sigil partially scoured away, a little white car that refused to reveal her robot mode, and a green bot covered in blades. He looked like he knew how to use them. And those were just the weapons he could see. Dart swallowed shakily; his holdout blaster would be useless here.

"You ready to do this?" Coatzin approached from behind, stretching out her legs.

"Yeah, I guess." Dart lowered his voice. "I've never run here before."

"Me neither. That's why we got here early. I'd be running something a bit more legitimate, but this was the last one before I ship out. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Just avoid the fights and have a good time."

"You have a good time. I intend to win." Dart snapped in a second connector hose to his arm, securing the energy tank.

"You know how to use those?" Coatzin arched an eye.

"Sure. No problem."

"You don't have to do this, Dart. There are other options."

"No. There's not." Dart hissed, the transponder in his neck burning. "Not for me. This is it."

"Okay. Well, good luck." She offered a weary smile, walking ahead to the start line.

This was it then. Everything in the whole world mattered how Dart drove in the new few minutes. Sure, no pressure. Transforming, he pulled up to the start line next to Coatzin, revving his engine. She was good but not any real competition. He was, after all, The Dart.

Centering his focus, Dart dialed down his receptors as the noise of the crowds fell away. Speed. He was speed. He was the fastest thing on the planet, about to out run, out drive and out race every other bot foolish enough to stop him. Hope was for suckers, prayers were for the lost. He'd already won. He was lightning. He was death. He was The Dart. And nothing was going to stand in his way.

Kicking in his sensors just in time, he watched the light blink from yellow to green. The cheers of the spectators drowned out under the roar of engines. One after another cars and cycles pulled away. Dart shifted it into first gear and he was gone. By third he had passed most of the glut of the pack. Spinning left, he drifted around the first curve, gaining another two paces. By the time he hit eighth gear, there were only five cars between him and the lead.

Hissing through the S curve he hit the drop off, going airborne as his wheels sliced through the open air. Transforming, he landed on top of a neon yellow truck before hitting the pavement with rubber again. He was gone before they even bottomed out.

Someone took a swing at him. The green ninja was kicking overhead, flipping around, transforming to take a swipe at him, before landing and doing it all again. Dart went to robot mode, throwing a right hook before landing himself in a tussle. The two of them skidded along, leaving a trail of sparks and paint as the tumbled down the road, their speedometers clicking down. This wasn't good, Dart realized as they rolled down a dip. He was unarmed and this jack nut was loaded with blades. And now, not only was Dart going to die, but he was going to lose the race!

He barely heard the transforming sound before he ducked. Coatzin appeared, flying over the hill, punching the ninja in the face before landing on a wheelie. It wasn't much, but it was enough to disentangle Dart long enough to get away. He heard the crunching twist of metal as all the other vehicles landed on his opponent.

"I owe you one." Dart hollered as he sped past his friend.

He'd lost the leaders as they entered the pylon row. The deadliest part of the track, it had given the race its name as well as its reputation. Dodging skidding debris that had moments ago been body parts, Dark zigzagged between massive structural girders, watching the light fade. Headlights were almost useless at 586 MPH. Instinct and reaction time alone were the only things keeping him alive. He could hear the other motorists around him racing past, smell their exhaust as they kicked in their NitroEn too early, and see their flaming corpses as they exploded in massive fireballs.

Dart was free. This was the only time he ever felt truly alive. It ran in his family. This was why he did what he did; not the danger, not the excitement, but the freedom. Right now, in this moment, he was the fastest thing in the universe. Not even death itself could catch him. The world faded away, the future vanished, and his wheels spun. This was living.

They left the tunnel, crossing into the daylight, skirting the massive crater. Dart could feel the radiation levels rising. The purple ex-Con in second place exploded, the radiation igniting his unshielded energon reserves. An amateur mistake, or possibly suicide by racing. Not a bad way to die. Dart just hunkered down further, polarized his windshield and stepped on it. There was a good half mile gap between him and fourth place.

Coatzin blew past him like he was standing still, tires glowing with friction. No way was Dart going to fall back further. Kicking in his left tank, he felt the fuel spray into his engine, supercharging it. Red and blue flames spewed from his exhaust, knocking him back on two wheels. If he had wings he'd be flying.

Dart ate the road, chewing it up like his life depended on it. Which, is kind of did. His speedometer clocked out at 712mph as he approached the sound barrier. Coatzin flew back like a streak. Fourth and third place were quickly gone. Now it was just down to the last two, and they would not let him pass. That little white femme and the jaguar feral. They were his. No weapons, no tricks, just racing. Dart caught them as his NitroEn cut out.

He wasn't pulling away. He couldn't. They were faster than him. They were actually faster! Sliding through another curve, Dart watched the glowing tail lights begin to fade away. This couldn't be happening. He was the fastest! He had to win this race! Kicking on his second tank of NitroEn, he coughed, spewing nothing but sparks and smoke. The bottle was no good; he'd been sabotaged.

With no other choice Dart transformed, giving a flying leap, ripping the tank from his arm. It went skidding off, exploding a few seconds later. Landing in car mode once more he faced down the frightful gap between his opponents and himself. The finish line would be here instantly.

Dropping it for all it was worth, he rammed it in hard, hoping it would stick. His gears screamed as his clutch overheated, but he didn't care. He was gaining. It was slow, but he was gaining. In thirty seconds he'd take the lead. In twenty seconds he'd run out of track. Dart tried everything he knew to coax just fraction more speed from his over taxed body. He had this. He would win. Nothing could stop him. He couldn't lose!

The streak of red came out of nowhere, T-boning him and knocking him into the ion net. His systems fried as his vision danced before his optics. Everything hurt from the rapid deceleration. He skidded sideways, feeling himself tipping just before the roll. By the time he had tumbled to a stop the race was over and he was fifteen meters from the finish line. His engine gave out a weary groan and died with a hiss. Dart couldn't hear the cheer of the crowds, nor the zip of the drivers passing him. He couldn't hear anything but his own shame and defeat.

"You okay, kid?"

Dart knew that voice. Hauling the shock net off in robot mode, he looked up into the face of an Autobot he never thought he'd see again.

"Beamer?"

"You're hard to catch. If it weren't for Lieger we'd never have caught you." Beamer offered a hand up.

Dart looked over to where Lieger sat on the ground, rubbing his head. "You rammed me?"

"Had to time it just right." Lieger modulated the static in his voice. "Otherwise you'd have crossed the finish."

"I could have won!" Dart threw off Beamer's hand, pushing the older bot backwards. "I was right there at the end!"

"No, you couldn't have." Beamer answered sadly.

"Yes, I could. I could have at least finished. I still can!" Dart started running for the finish.

"You cross that line and you're a dead bot."

"Are you threatening me?" Dart's voice turned chilly. He was not in the mood.

"Activate your optics, you stupid glitch! He doesn't have to threaten you. We saved you life!" Lieger stood on shaky legs.

Dart turned back to the finish line, truly looking for the first time. Racers were still crossing the line, some at little more than at a limp. But just across the line stood two CDC Heavies, scanning everyone that came across. They were big, they were armd and they were obviously well bribed.

"It's a trap. You were never supposed to win this race. They were here to make sure you didn't." Liger walked up behind Dart. "You finish this race, you're dead."

"Who'd you cross, Dart?" asked Beamer.

"Shakedown." Dart responded absently. One little line meant his life and death. Freedom and slavery.

Beamer shook his head. "I don't know him. Lieger?"

"Small time pusher. Sells homebrewed stims. He works the lower regions, but nobody lives down there but scum anyways."

"I live there." No one heard Dart.

"What did you do, Dart?"

"He paid my entry fee. He said if I didn't win I had to run drugs for him. Forever." Dart walked away.

"Where you going?" Beamer almost laughed. Dart was too heartbroken to care.

"No where. He's got a tracker on me. He'll find me." Dart tapped his neck.

Beamer nodded to Lieger who only grinned. They tackled Dart from behind, holding him down as Beamer dug the tracker out of his neck. Dart started to scream, expecting it to hurt, but there was no pain. Only a mild tingling. Sitting up, Dart rubbed his neck.

"How'd you do that?"

"Polaris is a lady of many talents." Beamer grinned, holding up a small vial containing the tracker unit. "Now, let's get you across that finish line."

"But the guards-"

"You really don't get how this works yet, do you kid?" Lieger slapped him on the shoulder, strolling past.

"You're one of us now. Trust us." Beamer assured.

The three bots strolled towards the finish line. Dart was labeled DNF and the race wrapped up as everyone went home. There was no sweeping the streets, no gathering of the dead. Everyone just vanished. Except for those two CDC Heavies, and a little red femme.

"...So I said, 'That's not his face, it's a Minicon!'" Polaris finished her joke, laughing madly with her wild personality. The heavies were less than interested.

"You there. Stop." One commanded, turning towards the three approaching bots.

"Oh come on, that was funny!" Polaris pouted.

"You are hereby instructed to cease or we will open fire!" A minigun began to power up in the hands of the one on the left.

"At ease, gentlemen." Beamer commanded.

"This is your last warning!" The second one now had a hammer in his hand, his energy shield on full power.

"Rodeo?" Beamer radioed.

The shot came out of nowhere, slamming into Minigun before anyone heard the discharge. Hammer looked around wildly for his assailant before convulsing on the floor, raw electricity coursing through him. Polaris stood behind, a sparking electrical conduit in her hand.

"Now, let's try this again. I said at ease." Beamer paused in front of the downed bots, reflectively relaxing into a Parade Rest stance. "By what right do you threaten to open fire on a superior officer?"

"We... have our orders." Minigun wheezed. The sniper wound wasn't fatal, but it would hurt for a long time.

"You mean you have your money." Beamer spat. "A quick scan of your credit account would show a large deposit from an unknown source, I bet. Do we know any unknown sources, Dart?"

Dart's optics narrowed as he began to catch on. Maybe his life wasn't over after all. Beamer had sought him out, and Dart had betrayed and abandoned him. Yet Beamer and his friends came back, pulling him out of a tight jam again. Dart wasn't sure what their game was, but this was better than dying or running stims.

"Shakedown." hissed Dart.

"Exactly." Beamer nodded, crouching down. "So here's what we're going to do-"

"I ain't telling you nothing, Sir!" Minigun spat, trying to rise to his feet.

Beamer put a sword through his arm. It moved so fast that the action was over before Dart had time to react. One of the most intricate and ornamental swords that Dart had ever seen, and Beamer wielded it like a master. Minigun through so too, staring at his stump of an arm.

"Now, here's what we're goi-"

"AAAAAHHHH! MY ARM! YOU CUT OFF MY SLAGGING ARM! YOU SLAGGING PIECE OF-"

Beamer tipped his sword, bringing it to the neck of the screaming officer. That silenced him almost instantly.

"You are the lowest of the low. You swore an oath to serve and protect, yet you prey on those who cannot defend themselves, serving the highest bidder. All the while you squander your life away, disregarding your oath and your spark. You are not worthy to be called an Autobot, let alone an officer of Cybertron Defense Command. It is only because I don't want the paperwork on my head that I am letting you keep yours. Now, pick up your friend, and your arm, and go home."

Dart watched the hulking black and white bot shuffle off with his comrade, lost arm in hand. Speechless. That was the only word to describe his state. Growing up in the under city, he'd seen many unspeakable actions that left him hiding under his recharge sheets. But Beamer, a supposedly honorable commander, had just brutally disarmed a member of his own faction.

"We all clear?" Beamer radioed again, wiping down his sword. "Great, meet us back here in three."

"You shouldn't have done that." Lieger eyed the blood trail.

"I hate dirty cops." Beamer sheathed his weapon

"Should I report them to their commander?"

"Let them go. They're not going to forget this day anytime soon."

"Well, the other one might." Polaris approached. "I think I may have fried his memory."

"Now, as for you." Beamer did an about face, staring down Dart.

"I know. Back to the stockade."

"You have someone to introduce me to." Beamer held the tracking beacon between his fingers.

---

"You are late."

"Figured I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer."

Dart walked into the dark overhang where Shakedown awaited him. All pretext of friendliness toward the poor kid from the bad side of town was gone. Whatever he'd been smoking it had made Shakedown mean today. Even Vorg, his bodyguard for hire, look a tad bit afraid of him. Shakedown optics ran a deep hung-over red with a deathly orange twinging at the edges.

"Indeed. So you lost today. Not only did you lose, but you didn't even finish. I must say, Dart, I am rather disappointed. I expected a better showing to represent our glorious level." Shakedown crossed his shaky hands.

"Funny thing that." Dart leaned against the wall. 14 hours ago he'd been terrified. Now he had all the confidence in the world. "Someone sabotaged my NitroEn tank."

"Oh my. Well, accidents will happen, especially if you play around with mods. Did you learn nothing from your dear sister?"

"That was your one shot and you just blew it." Dart turned, walking back into the darkness.

"And just where do you think you're going? I OWN you!" Shakedown shouted.

Dart came wandering back out of the shadows. Only it wasn't dart. This blue Autobot was about a head taller. And he had friends. Shakedown came down with a sudden case of the shakes. This was why he never left the lower levels.

"You dropped something." Beamer flicked the tracking chip at him.

"Ah, yes. Well, you see, the young lad and I had a... business arrangement." Shakedown tried to sell the point.

"You rendered it null and void when you rigged his tanks." Polaris pointed out. And paid to have him ked if he crossed the finish line."

"We're done here." Beamer half turned.

"That boy is MINE! By every right he belongs to me. Vorg?" Shakedown gestured, Vorg stepping forward.

"Rodeo?" Beamer cocked a lop-sided grin.

"Howdy." Rodeo sauntered straight up to the monster. "Whoooo-ee but you a bigun! Dontcha worry none." The orange bot sized him up. "By calculating the variable mass from the obviously dense gravity of your planet, I can adjust for your lower center of balance, in conjunction with-"

Vorg let out a monstrous roar, bellowing right in front of the Transformer. Rodeo wiped the saliva off his face, sized Vorg up once over, then balled up his fist and punched him right at the base of the throat. Vorg was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

"Nice job."

"Eyup."

"This... this changes nothing!" Shakedown screamed.

"Slide back into a ditch, you scum." Dart spat, looking at Shakedown for what he intended to be the last time.

"I will hunt you, Dart. I will hunt you to the ends of Cybertron and beyond. You will never be rid of me! Not even your children's children's children. Do you hear me?!"

Dart paused, unsure if he should give into the ramblings of a mad man or not. Shakedown was high, and crazy, and mad with power, but he wouldn't carry out a vendetta, would he? Imploringly Dart looked to Beamer.

"It's your call, kid. What do you want to do?"

Dart looked back to the sad shriveled bot before them. "Cut out his vocal processor and send him home. Let him beep for the rest of his life."

Dart walked away. No one followed. Turning back, he saw the ashen and sunken faces of his comrades. Shakedown appeared downright afraid of that very real threat, but everyone else looked disgusted.

"What?"

"Oh, Dart." Polaris cocked her head, smiling sadly. "We can't do that."

"What? Why not? That's how we deal with things back home."

"Well we're a bit more civilized up here on the surface." Lieger spat.

"Hey! Now you-"

"Empurata may still be common where you come from, Dart, but up here that deplorable practice died out centuries ago." said Beamer.

"It's not like I'm telling you to drink oil from dead bodies or anything." Dart spread his hands. Though cannibalism was the most universally reviled of taboos, he had seen bots do that. Growing up they'd been tempted to try it once or twice. Scruples were for those who weren't starving.

"Never the less, we can't do that. I'll kill him if you want-"

"I don't want that."

"Or I can let him go."

"I don't want that either." Dart bit his lip. The surface had a completely different set of rules, and he wasn't sure he agreed. "You cut off the arm of that police officer."

"And he'll take it down to the nearest medical bay and get himself repaired. We're not permanently disfiguring bots. Those are your choices: Mercy or Justice."

Dart approached Shakedown who was now on his knees, silently begging for his life. He was trying to work up a nice oil drool to look pathetic. Instead he only looked ridiculous. Dart simply laid a hand on his throat, fingering that oh-so-vulnerable vocal processor.

"Remember this day, Shakedown. This is the day I held your miserable little life in my hands, and I set you free."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!"

"Don't make me regret it."

"I won't! I swear!"

Dart turned and walked off one last time, with at least one less debt hanging over him. And strangely, the fog he felt as he contemplated Shakedown's life had lifted as well. Every life, no matter how innocent or guilty it may be, was worth living. As he rounded the corner he heard Shakedown trying, unsuccessfully, to sell some stims to Lieger. He also heard the conversation end with a satisfying crunch.

---

The tapcaf on level one did not offer intoxicants. Dart didn't mind. He didn't think his servos could take anything above a low level spiced energon right now anyways. The five of them sat on around a table overlooking the plaza. Unused to direct sunlight, Dart kept his optics darkened a few shades. Noise up here traveled further than he liked, too. He twitched as Polaris struck a nerve in his arm.

"Sorry." she knelt at his side, smiling as she glanced up. "You should really have a medic look at this. I don't know what damage that canister did to your intake."

"It only pulled some wiring. Shove it back in and I'll be fine."

Dart stared at her, the way her head swiveled on her neck joint, the arch of her back. The red was especially striking, creating a stronger resemblance.

"You're staring." She didn't even look up.

"Sorry!" Dart glanced away, embarrassed.

"I'm used to it." Polaris chuckled. "Sorry if Beamer and I broke all your dreams in the closet. That's one of out favorite quiet places."

"No, it's not that. I wasn't looking at you like that."

"Oh really?" Polaris looked up, bemused.

"Not that you aren't pretty. I mean you are. Not like that. Well, yes like that, but..." Dart vented his air exchange, his face turning almost as red as his paint. "You kinda remind me of my sister." The conversations at the table fell silent as all optics turned to Dart. "I mean... Did I say something wrong?"

"What was she like?" asked Lieger

"She wasn't... I mean I don't want to..."

"Tell us." Polaris closed the panel on his left arm. "Please."

Dart sighed. Maybe it was finally time to share. "You remind me of her a bit. She was so nice and kind, but she had a mouth on her that always got her in trouble. A mean left hook too. She was a few years older than me. I don't remember much after I came online, but we lived in the slums down in level 1313. There's no light down there, no heat. Just the dark and the hunger. We did what we could to survive; stealing, looting, and picking up the odd job here and there. Mostly we just starved. Then we discovered racing.

"We were built for it; literally. She and I, we'd spend hours burning up fuel we didn't have, racing each other in makeshift tracks and dirty slum rinks. She was older, better. I was faster. As we grew we started winning. There was never enough Energon, just a little to keep our tanks full. Then she started beating me. It took me years to figure it out. She was upgrading, installing mods and apps. She'd come home at night, stinking of the forge, and just collapse onto the recharge bed. Sometimes she's get a bad mod or a corrupted driver. I'd hold her while she got the viral shakes. I tried to tell her it wasn't worth it, tinkering with her body like that. She didn't listen.

"Our break came through her. She kept hanging around this Decepticon-friendly bar a few levels up. She was enamored with them, but they wouldn't give her the time of day. She was a neutral street wretch, and a femme to boot. She could have gotten in so easily if she'd let them use her, but she wouldn't let them touch her. She had too much self respect. I'm glad for that.

"Then Fulsaid showed up. You might know her? Big jet dame, commands a sub-armada. Nasty piece of work. Well, my sister snuggles right up to her, starts learning from her. And this Deceptichick, she's obsessed with upgrades. Obsessed. She blew an engine over Valhalla III because it was over clocked and wasn't tuned just right. Who does that?

"So Fulsaid starts teaching my sister all the stuff she's been dying to know. And not the cheap soldering iron, viral infected software. This was grade 'A' Decepticon wetware. And my sister goes in deep. She's addicted, and starts taking jobs for the Space Mafia, just to get her next upgrade.

"Even when we were older, my sister and I still used to play around like when we were protoforms. But now she's gone all the time, and when she's not she's tweaking her systems, over clocking her drives or updating her lap times. And the worst part was; now she's faster than me."

"What happened?" Beamer asked.

Dart finished his spiced energon. He couldn't believe he was telling this to almost total strangers. No one knew the whole story, not even the Mafia. Polaris gripped him hand in comfort, as a friend. Maybe that's what he'd needed all along. Maybe he hadn't needed to run, maybe he just needed friends.

"There was a race. A big one. Televised broadcast. Level 30. That was higher than either of us had ever gone. We ran the qualifying laps. She made it into the top eight; I barely made it at all. We were scared, but we had each other. The race started and we ran together. By the last lap she was a few lengths ahead and about to wrap the whole thing up. I was set to take eleventh, she had first. I'd never felt so alive, it was the greatest moment in my life. Probably hers too.

Being behind her I didn't has as good a view as the skycams. I watched it on the screen later, over and over. Not like I had much else to do in the hospital. There was a blowout. She started wobbling and then corrected herself. I can tell what she did. She set her internal systems to compensate, and it put an extra strain on her transom. Then it just gave out. At the time though all I could see was a puff of black smoke and my sister rolling down the track.

"The wreck snapped her over-strained chassis in twelve places and pulled her transom clean free. Her fuel tanks ruptured and ignited, setting her on fire. She couldn't transform, the damage was too extensive. My sister was trapped in car mode as she burned to death. I heard her screams the entire time. I still hear them in my head every night."

"What did you do?" Polaris prodded.

"I did what any brother would do! What ever other bot that day should have done! I transformed and ran to her. I tried to put out the flames, I tried to drag her free, I tried manual transformation. Nothing worked. So finally I did the only thing I could do; I held her tight as the flames washed over us both."

"Primus."

"It took emergency crews five cycles to reach us. I spent an entire month in traction and another month letting my systems get used to the new red steel. My old panel alloy blistered from the heat. I kept the helmet for the longest time."

"What about your sister?" asked Lieger.

Dart shrugged. "She still owed the Mafia money. Fulsaid and her Decepticon cavalcade were nowhere to be found. Some great mentor she turned out to be. My sister required extensive medical treatment that I couldn't afford. About the same time I get a communiqué from Autobot High Command. It read 'From Optimus Prime, commander in chief of all united Autobot forces: Greetings.'"

Beamer rolled his optics. He knew all about the Autobot draft practices and could not agree on any level. If a being was called to fight, they had to be called on their own, not drafted from a random pool. He understood the recourse, of course. The Decepticons didn't even bother with a letter; they simply conscripted. Still, isn't that what separated the civilized from the brutal? Free will? What was the difference between a letter and a blaster? Both got the same results upon threat of death.

"With the mafia on one end of the stick and the Autobots on the other I did what I'd been doing all my life. I ran. Ended up on Pz-Zazz. Nice little terrible planet. I would never have been happy there, but at least I could have... I don't even know..."

"What was your sister's name?" Rodeo spoke for the first time.

"Mischief." Dart choked back the emotion in his voice. "I never found out what happened to her."

Beamer stood, paying the check. "If you'll excuse us. Dart? Let's go for a walk."

The pair left their comrades behind, walking without purpose in a southerly direction. If Beamer had any destination in mind Dart didn't notice. He didn't notice much of anything.

Air traffic in this sector was heavier as late afternoon streaked into evening. Just like before, Dart was escorted by Beamer as evening fell on the strange planet he barely called home. He knew a chewing out was coming, he could feel it. Dart didn't much care what happened, he just didn't want to go back to prison.

"There's the Chamber of Ancients." Beamer pointed. He may as well have been speaking a foreign language.

"Are you... you're taking me sightseeing?"

"Yep. Why, what did you expect?"

"A reprimand, a beating, prison. Are we going to see CDC HQ next?"

"No, Dart. I think you've been beaten more this day than I ever could." Beamer smiled sadly. "Ever lost a race before?"

"Oh sure, plenty of times. Just not in a while."

"Well, loss is part of a soldier's life. Better get used to it."

"'Soldier'? You mean you're still set on recruiting me?"

"I am." Beamer nodded.

Dart paused. "Why?"

"What happened with the girl?" Beamer changed the subject.

"What?"

"The little fleshy girl you were picked up with. What happened?"

"Her, um... her slave masters were beating her. I spent some time with her on Pz'Zazz. We were friends, I guess. She told me she was running, so I helped her out. We ran. Her masters put a bounty on us. We made it as far as Nebulous' moon before the Sky Raiders found us."

"Did you kill them?" Beamer pried. Dart simply held up a finger. "Why?"

"He had us backed into a corner. I had a pipe; he had his head turned."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"No!"

"Then why did you do it?"

"I don't know."

"Was it self defense?"

"No."

"Were you angry?" Beamer was in his face now.

"No!"

"Maybe you just wanted to feel his mech fluid splatter across your face."

"No, that wasn't it at all!" Dart was desperate now.

"Then tell me why." Beamer shoved him.

"He was going to kill my friend!" Dart shouted. "He was just going to squish her. I couldn't lose her! I had no other choice."

Beamer resumed walking, almost ignoring Dart from there on. Dart couldn't help but wonder if his answer had been correct or not. Over the next several blocks he had no one to ask but his own thoughts. Finally Beamer stopped before a pastel green and ivory skyscraper. Turning to Dart he assessed him openly.

"Do you want the job?"

"What?"

"Do you want to be part of my team? If not, that's okay. I'll pull some strings and get you transferred to wherever you want. But if you want in, now's the time to say so."

"I can go wherever I want?" Dart confirmed.

"Just say the word." nodded Beamer.

Dart mulled it over for just a moment. "Thanks. I think... I think I'm good right where I am. Besides, I heard there's a team out there that could use a good scout."

"As you wish." Beamer grinned, offering his hand. Dart accepted it gladly. "You know, this entire situation could have been avoided. I was going to explain everything after you got yourself settled, but you disappeared before I had a chance."

"Sorry about that."

"It's in the past." the door opened as Beamer approached. The pair walked into a waiting turbolift.

[State your desired floor please.]

"712 please." Beamer said as the doors shut. "Thanks."

"What are we doing here?" Dart stared out the transparent windows as they climbed into the sky.

"Do you know where we are?"

"The new medical towers?" Dart recognized the cityscape.

Beamer nodded. "I have something to confess. I wasn't looking for just any old scout to join the team. I was looking for you. I scoured the database for years before your name finally appeared. It took almost all the clout I had to get custody of you."

"Why?" Dart was confused again.

Instead of answering Beamer just waited for the doors to open before taking a right down the hall. As the shadows climbed the wall they fought against the crisp white light of the sanitized interior. Stopping at the room on the furthest end, Beamer watched through the viewing window. Dart followed, standing next to him.

"I found her a week after you left planet. She was about to be melted down for scrap."

"Mischief!" Dart exclaimed.

His sister lay on the recharge bed, cycling her energies. Monitors beeped out a steady rhythm with her spark pulse, showing no sign of change or movement. She lay still, optics on, staring up at the ceiling. Dart burst through the door, rushing to her side. Bringing her limp hand to his face he began to rub her skeletal appendage. She'd been stripped to her E-Frame. Pulling back the energy sheets, Mischief was nothing but skeletal Endo-Frame from the neck down, a much further state of deconstruction that Dart had gone through when they'd changed his armor. Exposed gears and wires that would normally be moving with clockwork precision stood deathly still. Only a slight flutter in her chest cavity showed any hints of life.

"Sis? Can you hear me?"

"She's been more or less comatose since she got here. Any attempt at a neural patch is fought. Angrily I might add. Aside from those few incursions there's been no response." Beamer leaned against the door frame.

Dart turned back. "Can she hear me?"

"Oh yeah, for sure. This is more of a deep seeded angry silent treatment than a mental disconnect. She sees all, hears all, and forgets nothing."

"Mischief, it's going to be alright. I'm here now." Dart smiled, reunited at last.

"The medics tried everything they knew how to do. The damage to her superstructure was too substantial. She was too far gone for repairs, and the damage between her neural link and the rest of her body already degraded to naught by the time they got in there."

"Can't they do anything for her?"

Beamer shook his head. "Nothing short of a full shell-spark transfer would help."

"So, let's do that!"

"Too risky. The procedure doesn't exist yet. Maybe in a few thousand years our descendants will have the technology, but we don't."

"So this is her life? Just lay here and hope for a miracle?"

"It's not so bad." Beamer offered. "She gets free Wi-Fi."

"But she doesn't use it!"

"That's her fault. I was thinking maybe you could do something about that." Beamer walked back down the hall. "I'll leave you two alone."

Dart sat in silence as night fell, just holding his sister's hand. He knew he should say something, but what was there to say? He'd abandoned her. She was helpless and paralyzed, depending on him for life, and he'd abandoned her. It was quite some time before he mustered the courage to speak.

"I know I am the last bot you want to see right now. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I ran. I need your forgiveness for that. But I'm here now. You took care of me when we were little more than protoforms. Now let me take care of you." Dart squeezed her hand.

"Say something?"

Nothing.

"Okay. Okay. I love you, sis. I'm going to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow. I promise.

Dart leaned forward, kissed Mischief's forehead, and left through the same door she knew he'd come through one day. Now that day was here. Mischief willed her limbs to move, even the smallest of appendages, but once again her body failed her. She truly had nothing left. Her moment was here, and she couldn't even muster a fist. Silently, in the darkened room, her bright blue optics phase shifted from blue to purple, flickering twice before resetting red.

"Never forget." Mischief spat to the empty world. "Never forgive."

---

Beamer leaned over the railing on the roof of the medical tower, watching the world he called 'home'. He'd come online here, he fought for this planet, but was it truly home? If pressed, Beamer would admit a closer connection to Earth than Cybertron. It was what made him and his friends unique. Maybe Dart would feel the same way once he visited. Hearing the door open behind him he flicked the smoldering energon stick, sending sparks into the air.

"So how'd it go?" he asked the empty air.

"Not a word." Dart joined him at the rail.

"Didn't think so." Beamer offered a fresh smolder stick. Dart took one and lit it with the inexperience of a juvenile. "Sorry kid."

"It's okay." Dart coughed up the vaporous energon. The pair just stood like that for a while, contemplating their lives.

"So...?"

"Like I said, I found her about a week after you life planet. I bribed several bots to get her transferred here and on the books. This is a very prestigious institution, you know."

"What about the Space Mafia?" Dart realized the missing piece of the puzzle. "She still owed them quite a few credits. She was favored to win."

"Paid them off too."

Dart just stared at his new boss for a moment, committing his profile to memory. "Just one more question."

"'Why?'"

"Yeah." Dart nodded. "Why this? Why haul her out of the trash, pay off her debt? Why dig me out of prison? Why, Beamer?"

Beamer took another drag before finishing his smolder stick out, crushing it against the railing. It was still a few more minutes before he spoke.

"Do you remember War Dawn?"

"Not really. I was... pretty young."

"War Dawn was bad. The War for Cybertron was worse. It got... messy. We were bogged down before Optimus came along. He changed everything. But those early days... I pray no being in the entire universe has to see fighting like that ever again.

"Rodeo and I were part of a recon squad that got separated from out pack. We watched them get taken out four bridges away, too far to do anything but too close to hide. We went down, running the entire way. They say in the Terran Cold War that submarines used to run deep and silent. That's what we did, Rodeo and I. His sniper wasn't much good that far down, so it was mostly me doing hand to hand. The 'Cons kept driving us further down, so we kept running.

"Eventually we hit this slum town way the slag down at the bottom of level 1313. There were three Cons left and two of us. Rodeo and I figured if we were going out, might as well do it with a rumble. So the five of us are crashing through the mud and the blood and the sewers. I killed one, managed to help Rodeo pin the second, but the third got the drop on me.

"I was tired and just about ready to let him have me, when this rock come sailing out of nowhere and clonks him right in the helmet. Didn't do much damage, but it got both our attentions. I look over, and there's these two little scrap bots up against the wall. The girl is brandishing a soldering iron, and her little brother is throwing rocks at these strangers that just crashed their house.

"I knew right then I had to do something. If I let this Con kill me, he'd finish off Rodeo, and then he'd murder these two little sprites. He and the other Decepticons wouldn't stop there, they're murder everyone on Cybertron, and then tear a swath of death and destruction across the galaxy. I could see it all so clearly, and I couldn't let that happen.

"While he was distracted I... you know." Beamer made a slicing motion across his throat. "I got Rodeo and we got out of there. I couldn't do anything then. I didn't have any credits; I lost my emergency rations on the way down. I couldn't help rebuild, I was just a soldier; I didn't have time for that. But I always swore I'd help out those two little bots that saved my life."

"I don't know what to say, to be honest. I always suspected there was some ulterior motive to your actions, but I never imagined..." Dart stood there, soaking in the tale as he finished off his own smolder stick, flicking it away into the night. "So everything you've done has been some sort of weird repayment fantasy? Mischief, me, everything?"

"No, Dart. If I wanted to repay you I could have done it long ago. I would have finished and sent you on your way. No, this is different."

"What is it then?"

"That day, you changed the way I saw the universe, you and your sister. I suddenly realized that all life is precious, and each soul is worth protecting. You opened my optics for the first time. I simply wanted a chance to share that with you and your sister."

"I think Mischief might rather be dead." Dart sneered.

"That's her choice, but maybe she'll realize that she is special, even as she is. Maybe you'll realize it too."

"So what happens when I realize what a magical gift life is? Are you going to cut me loose at that point, leave me on my own again?"

"No, Dart. Once you realize how special life is, then you can begin to live!"

As they stood there, Dart felt a strange and all but forgotten emotion wash over him. Something light and happy. Hope.

"I think I'd like that."

END