Title: Scavenger Digs a Big Hole
Series: G1 Cartoon
Characters: Scavenger, Scrapper, Megatron
Prompt: Base the story on the setting. Add a human for extra credit.
North of Istanbul and east of the Bosporus is a quiet, lonely valley. It is named the Galata valley, not because it gently slopes toward the sea, (which it does), or because sheep and goats sometimes graze on the scrubby, fragrant herbs that grow here, (although they do), but because it was once home to the ancient Celts. And these fierce warriors and gifted craftsmen earned their name for this place by taming a great evil here.
And now the usually quiet valley is busy with activity. Massive metal creatures stalk up and down the slope and trample upon the herbs. And in one particular place a neat hole is being dug.
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The soil was crumbly and yielded before the tender sweepings of his scoop in a satisfying way. He reached out again to stroke the high wall before him and another cool damp mass of dirt cascaded down to pile around his treads. He loved the softness of it, loved the variety of signals the chemicals within sent tingling through the sensor array in his digging arm. And he loved the meaning of it. He was the only one who could dig like this, who could be trusted to peel away the layers of earth and discover the prize within. It gave him worth. He repositioned himself and lifted away the loose sand and clay to expose the packed surface below. Delicately he positioned his shovel tip and swept at the earth, testing and sensing to find what he sought.
"Hurry UP, Scrounge," snarled Scrapper on the Constructicons' private frequency. "You've been in that hole for nearly a breem now. Megatron is getting impatient."
The transmission was followed by the thump and crunch of heavy feet above him as Megatron himself glowered down at the dusty green and purple steam shovel. "Well, Scavenger?" he growled. "Where's my Pearl?"
Scavenger was unused to being directly addressed by the Decepticon Commander and his processor grasped wildly for a satisfactory response to give his Leader.
"I-I-I haven t found it yet, Mighty Megatron. I m still looking, though." He swept the scoop of his shovel around the precisely crafted hole to demonstrate his diligence.
"I didn't arrange this entire operation, distract the Autobots and spend too much energon on those miserable Stunticons to be failed by YOU, Constructicon. Find me that Pearl now or I'll have you disassembled!" His ultimatum delivered, Megatron turned on his heel, knocking a shower of loose dry dirt onto the Constructicon below, and stomped away.
Scavenger sagged on his struts. The human archaeologist, Dr. Terranova, insisted that the Pearl of Bahoudin was a fragile artifact. And the Constructicons had learned very quickly that even the sturdiest of Earth artifacts did not withstand manhandling by Cybertronians. They usually just tore human structures down and rebuilt them as it saved time and reduced Megatron's tantrums, but now they were forced to work on the humans scale. He rather enjoyed the finicky work, but it was very slow and Megatron's threat sounded serious.
It was a Constructicon truism that you could do things quickly, or you could do them right. Scavenger knew he would be in vastly more trouble if he damaged the Pearl while unearthing it, so he resigned himself to continue at his slow careful pace. The next shallow scrape of soil uncovered a hard and knobby object. He ran his sensors over it. It was a lightweight calcium/phosphorous matrix, wrapped in some thin, flexible carbon-based sheets. There were several gold and mineral objects tucked inside the wrappings, but none of them were large enough to be the Pearl he sought. It was a lumpy oval with a pointed end and a rounded end; but what could it be?
Curiously, he lifted the thing up with his scoop, but in doing so, a part of it dropped away and rolled into a corner. When it came to a stop he found himself looking down into the empty optic sockets of a tiny smooth topped helmet. No, not a helmet a head. A human head or, more accurately, the thing inside a human head that gives the wet flesh its shape. This lump must once have been a human. And now it was here in the bottom of his hole.
Scavenger did not feel any fear or disgust at the sight of the dead organic. But he was curious. He had seen a few human corpses in his time, but he had never before given much consideration to what happened to them when the Decepticons moved on. He guessed that they were smelted or enshrined, depending upon the worth of the individual, just like a Cybertronian would be. Maybe this human had died all alone in this valley with no companions to care for his remains and the Earth itself had covered it up. That seemed somehow fitting, if a little sad. Scavenger was grateful to think of his Constructicon gestalt-mates tending to him should he fall in combat. It would never be his fate to rust in some unknown corner of the universe. Gently he laid the rest of the bundle by the empty eyed skull and continued to uncover its resting place.
After another short moment of digging, he heard a scrape and felt the tang of metal through his sensors. A bladed weapon crudely made but obviously potent had been lying next to the dead human. It was made of extremely impure iron and had been beaten into shape with heavy blows. Scavenger could not guess what use the dead human might have had for such a weapon, but it did fit his idea that the creature had been all alone when it collapsed and died. He imagined it had been a warrior, defeated and dying, seeking a place to lie undisturbed by its enemies. The weapon was a testimony to its skill, as it had not been taken away as a trophy of battle. 'Well done, warrior-human,' thought Scavenger to himself.
His theory was challenged a moment later however when he uncovered a sturdy stone box. It was as long as the human was tall and by itself weighted several times more than the human would have when it was alive. The top of the box was covered with carvings and he transformed to bring his optics closer to examine them.
He knelt to brush away the soil and revealed a dramatic scene. At the center was inscribed a perfect sphere which was surrounded by a nimbus of twisted and curling lines. In the four corners of the rectangular lid, the lines curled around many tiny blocky human figures. The faces of the humans were wracked with agony and their limbs were contorted into unnatural poses. A border of jagged lines framed the unsettling image.
Scavenger contemplated it. He could easily guess that the central sphere was the Pearl he sought. The human legends were very clear about its destructive power. The box lid clearly cautioned any discoverer of its contents. But why was there a dead human lying on top of the box? And what purpose did the sword serve? Had the creature come to take the Pearl for itself? That didn't seem too likely. A single human would have had difficulty lifting the stone lid, even with an iron sword for leverage. No, it appeared that the human had been placed here at the same time as the box.
Scavenger thought back to his time on Cybertron. He had once known a Guardian robot. When not actively defending his city the giant would often stand before it motionless and watchful. His mere presence was a warning to all enemies. Had the dead human been another such guardian? Had it lain here silent in the dark while the earth, carried by water and wind, piled up around it? Had it been chosen to ward this deadly danger at the cost of its own life? How much courage had that required?
'And now the enemy has come,' Scavenger admitted. He glanced over at the silent bundle in the corner. 'And what can the guardian do?'
Scavenger shuddered, thinking of the rage of another Guardian when his treasure was destroyed. Omega Supreme had vowed his revenge on them then, and his recent appearance on Earth had caused the Constructicons some serious concerns. They had all been so sure that he was destroyed during the long millennia while they were in stasis. But he was back again, and his implacable strength added to the Autobot ranks was forcing Megatron to take greater and greater risks against his enemies. It was the private opinion of the Constructicons that the Pearl of Bahoudin was too dangerous to use inside the Earth s atmosphere, but Megatron insisted that the artifact be unearthed.
Faintly from above his head Scavenger heard Megatron bark a command. The melodious warble of Soundwave's reply refocused the Constructicon on his task. The Decepticon communications officer had been ordered to discover the reason for his further delay and he was not going to be found dreamily picking through old human bones. He was a Decepticon, loyal to the cause, and about to prove his worth.
With strong metal fingers he levered open the stone coffer. A gleaming pile of gold rings, cups and dishes; and elaborately worked swords and armor filled most of the box. It was an ancient treasure that would have awed a human discoverer, but the Constructicon merely brushed the precious hoard aside to pluck out an ugly, gaudy golden sphere. As soon as he touched it, he sensed the incredible power of the object contained within the thick gold casing. With a last glance at the impotent Guardian he stood and cried out, "I think I've found something!"