"There he goes again," Gears commented in a dry tone, directing his sensors straight ahead.
Warpath followed his companion's example and saw that Gears was right. "Hey, Goldbug!" he cried out. "Will you – pow! – slow down already? I can only go that – bam! – fast!"
"And I'm an old mech, for Primus's sake!" Gears seconded. "Didn't your creator ever tell you to think of your elders?"
The minibot by the name of Goldbug, formerly known as Bumblebee, remembered himself. Cutting down his speed, he waited patiently for his friends to catch up with him.
"Sorry, guys. I got carried away," he said apologetically.
"You think?" Gears deadpanned. If he had been in his robot mode, he would have been eyeing the young minibot quite hard.
"Aw, don't be harsh on him, Gears," Spike said in that moment, smiling. The man was sitting inside Goldbug, just like back in the days when he was a young boy of sixteen. "He still has to get used to his new engine."
"That, and I want to get to the Ark as soon as possible," Goldbug admitted. Still, he remained mindful of his speed this time and drove at Warpath and Gears's side. "I can't believe we are actually going there!"
"That – yowza! – makes two of us," Warpath said. "It will be – wham! – good to see the old base again."
"If it hasn't been crushed to smithereens thanks to that big oaf of a Decepticon City," Gears grumbled. "My circuits can't handle hard work the way they used to. There's grain in my joints, my optic sensors can't focus as well anymore; and don't get me started on the glitch in my audio receptors!"
"Okay, we won't," Goldbug teased.
That earned him a snort of indignation from the older Autobot, but their banter was short lived as Spike suddenly sat up.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, pointing ahead.
The minibots directed their optic sensors to where their human friend was currently pointing.
"Yup. That's the Ark," Goldbug said. "Well… under all that pile of rubble, that is." Indeed, the old base was no longer visible, but buried under countless boulders that crashed down on it after Trypticon's attack. A small, dirty path which led to nowhere was the only evidence that the old base was once there.
"Oh no," Spike said, wincing. "You weren't exaggerating, Gears; Trypticon did quite a number on the place."
"Of course I wasn't exaggerating," Gears retorted in an affronted manner. "I may be old, but I'm not senile!"
"Maybe it's not as bad as – pow! – it looks?" Warpath ventured.
"If it wasn't, Rodimus would send us here months ago," Gears pointed out.
"Not when he had to deal with both the Decepticons andthe Quintessons," Spike said. "You have to admit, he was caught between a rock and a hard place."
His three companions couldn't have agreed more to that. It had been a trying couple of years, during which they had to fight for their lives, grieve for those who were gone, and strive for a better future that was nowhere in sight. And when the Hate Plague struck on top of everything else, it looked like everything was quite lost… until the impossible happened. The return of Optimus Prime was hailed as an unexpected yet welcome miracle, rekindling the Autobots' hopes. Even Galvatron had to concede to the resurrected Autobot leader's grit and, in a gesture of respect, he declared a ceasefire. The war was far from over, by all means. Nevertheless, it gave both factions the chance to recover after everything they had been through. When the ceasefire ended in a few months' time, the Autobots would be ready to fight the Decepticons once more.
In the meantime, however, the Autobots meant to make the most out of it. They worked hard to repair the damages that were done on Cybertron and on Earth during the Hate Plague. Some of them, like the Protectobots, healed the injuries their companions had suffered, while other teams restored the wildlife that had been destroyed. Even the Dinobots had offered to help, and Optimus couldn't find it in his spark to refuse. He had them demolish the buildings that were considered too hazardous for habitation, a task that delighted the Dinobots to no end.
Still, it wasn't enough. Optimus believed that there were other matters to be settled as well, matters that were put off because of the last two chaotic years. Since there was some time to be spared now, the Autobot leader had ordered a team of minibots to investigate the Ark and check if there was anything salvageable. Goldbug, Gears and Warpath were the first to volunteer and Optimus gave them permission to go, for he knew how attached those three were to the former Autobot base. Spike was also more than happy to escort his friends, and so now they were all heading towards the familiar mountains that had once been the Autobots' first home on Earth.
The minibots braked in front of the rubble, sensors scanning for any loose rocks that they could remove in order to venture inside.
"Well, guys? Any luck?" Spike asked after a few moments of silence.
"Nothing as of yet, Spike," Goldbug said, sounding disappointed. I don't get it. Beachcomber said-"
"Hey, I've got something!" Gears exclaimed, cutting in. "It looks like a hole of sorts!"
"Really? Where?" Warpath asked.
"Just a few feet above us," the old minibot said, and he transformed to his robot mode. "Right there."
Warpath looked up, while Spike got out of Goldbug so that his friend could transform as well.
"It doesn't look all that big," the golden minibot commented, shielding his optics from the sun with his hand. "Just enough for a human to crawl in actually."
"It sounds like a job for me then," Spike said, rolling up his sleeves. "Give me a lift, Goldbug; I'll try to reach it."
The minibots exchanged a glance.
"Ah… I don't think that's such a good idea, Spike," Goldbug said.
"Yeah," Warpath said. "We can – wham! – try and blast our way through."
"We can't risk any more damage to the Ark," Spike replied.
"But the ground is unstable," Gears pointed out. "We don't want you to risk getting hurt."
Spike shook his head, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Geez, guys, I know you don't want me to get hurt. But we can't exactly wait for Sideswipe to return from Cybertron to open a way through for us, can we?"
Spike regretted his tone at once, especially since none of the Autobots answered. Goldbug had already told him why Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and so many others had returned to Cybertron, and the human had understood, even if he hadn't liked it. And it didn't mean he should remind his friends about it.
"Just trust me," he said in a softer voice, trying to sound reassuring. "Please."
That finally convinced the minibots. Nodding once, Goldbug knelt down and cupped his hands to form a makeshift platform for the human.
"Hop on."
Spike hoisted himself up the rubble, his jaw clenched and his fingers digging on the rocky wall. It wasn't an easy climb, that was for certain, and the man had to be careful not to knock any loose boulders out of their place. If he did, he wouldn't only slip and injure himself, he risked injuring his friends as well.
"You okay up there, Spike?" Goldbug asked; his concern was quite audible in his voice.
"I'm starting to think I'm getting too old for this but, other than that, I'm fine," Spike replied, grabbing hold of another boulder. "Am I heading to the right direction, at least?"
"Yup. The hole is – bam! – right above you. Just keep moving," Warpath said.
"Okay!" Spike tried his footing on another boulder, and he pushed himself upward again. He managed to catch a glimpse of the hole, so he used all the strength he could muster to continue on. He was breathing quite heavily by the time he had reached the entrance, yet he allowed himself the luxury of a smile.
"I'm up!" he cried to the minibots below.
There was a small pause, during which Spike was sure that his companions sighed in relief. After spending years in the company of the Autobots, the human had learnt his friends only too well.
"Can you see anything?" Gears asked curiously, cutting into Spike's train of thought.
Spike squinted in an attempt to discern any shapes in the darkness before him. "Barely. I'll try to crawl inside and-"
It was then that it happened. Before he had the chance to react, the sound of beating wings surrounded him, and he was all but knocked down as a swarm of birds burst out of its hiding place. Yelping in surprise, Spike covered his eyes and stayed sprawled on the ground, waiting for the birds to fly out of the hole.
"Spike! Spike, can you hear me?"
Goldbug's worried voice reached Spike's ears, but the man moved only after he was absolutely sure he was safe. Crawling on all fours, he ventured towards a small ledge and looked down.
"I'm okay! The starlings just didn't appreciate my company!" he cried. "I'm going in!"
The minibots nodded their understanding. "Have you got your radio transmitter?" Goldbug asked.
"I never leave home without it," Spike answered.
"Good. Keep your communication frequencies open," Gears said. "We won't be able to talk, but we'll still be able to keep track of you."
"Gotcha. See you in minute," Spike said, and he started fumbling his way down the small tunnel. He winced every once in a while, whenever he had to cross an area where the ground was too jagged and his clothes almost got torn in the process. Nevertheless, the human persisted, gritting his teeth. Just when he thought that his body couldn't take that kind of abuse much longer, he finally felt the smooth surface of metal under his fingertips. Scarcely believing it, he gently tapped the metal, and he smiled when he heard the characteristic ping sound. Even better, the tunnel didn't feel so crammed up anymore, so Spike could move more easily. Spike also noticed a dim light at the end of the cavern, and he knew that he was reaching to his destination at last.
His destination turned out to be the exit of a ventilation system, which was easy to kick open. A few moments later, Spike found himself in what looked like the inside of a large dorm. There were two berths, a few belongings that were left there forgotten, as well as several datapads that had been scattered on the floor after Trypticon's attack. Feeling curious, Spike turned a couple of the datapads over to check them out, hoping that he would find out whose datapads they were. Unfortunately, they were broken, and there was nothing else in the room that served as a hint about in which part of the Ark he was. Or so Spike thought at first. When he looked up, he saw a human sized poster glued on the wall, and the man could easily read the words: 'Avian Show. Summer '99."
Spike remembered that event. Powerglide had seen it, and he hadn't stopped talking about it in the days that had followed. In fact, the human could still recall the kind of planes that were in the show, what colour they were, even what kind of manoeuvres they had performed; Powerglide's description of everything had been more than just detailed. This time, however, the poster also told Spike that he was in Powerglide's old dorm. That meant he was on the western area of the Ark. All he had to do was head to his right, then down a level, and he would reach the control room.
Of course, he had to get out of the dorm first. Thankfully, the door was already slightly ajar, probably because of malfunction, so it was easy for Spike to squeeze through the crack and exit to one of the Ark's many corridors.
Spike winced at the sight. The orange metal plates that had formed the Ark's walls were on the verge of crumbling utterly, and there were a lot circuitries exposed. Wires and cables hanged from the ceiling, almost touching the floor as if they were vines in a jungle. Bleeping sounds reverberated through the place, but they were either distorted or filled with static. It was probably some kind of an alert that continued functioning in spite of everything.
Spike didn't have the luxury to ponder on matters for long, though. He needed to find the control room. It was with that thought that he continued on, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the corridor. It took him longer to reach the control room than he had expected, but he eventually ended up in the familiar room that housed Teletraan-I. Teletraan-I, however, wasn't functioning anymore. His monitors were blackened, and the lights of the control panel were no longer blinking in their slow, harmonious rhythm.
Spike's heart sank. Teletraan-I wasn't a Transformer. Even so, he was still an important member of the Ark, serving as the audios and optics of the Autobots to the outside world, as well as a sentinel of the old base. He had played a big part in the war, and he had even suffered the war's devastating consequences. Spike had practically lost count of all the times Teletraan-I had offered his solution to whatever problem came up, or the numerous times that he had gotten damaged because of Megatron's schemes. And now… he was gone. Just like Prowl, Ironhide, Ratchet…
Spike clenched his jaw, not wanting to let his emotions run away with him. He had believed that Transformers were practically immortal. After all, they were machines. Far more advanced than anything humans had ever created, but machines nonetheless. As long as there were spare parts, they could be repaired and live on. But the Battle of the Autobot City proved to Spike how wrong he was. He had to mourn them, just as he had mourned his father three years ago.
It was then that another thought crossed his mind, and his heart almost missed a beat. Perceptor had explained to Spike that the Autobots died, really died, when their sparks extinguished. But Teletraan-I never had a spark, he was simply a super advanced computer. So, technically, he could be fixed, and he could be as good as new. Right?
Right. As he recalled the couple of times that he himself had to fix Teletraan-I, Spike started working on the control panels, connecting cables and restoring all the buttons he could find. He wasn't sure if he was driven by some kind of denial or hope, but he knew he'd be damned if he didn't at least try and find out if his theory was correct.
All three minibots sat by the rubble, resting their elbows on their knees and waiting for any news from Spike. Goldbug was quite restless, shifting on his seat continuously and looking every once in a while in the direction his human friend had disappeared out of sight.
"Don't you think Spike is taking too long?" he finally asked, facing Gears and Warpath.
"Relax, Goldbug. The place must be in – kaboom! – mess. He probably – yowza! - has a hard time moving about," Warpath reasoned.
"If he can move," Gears noted, optics shining a bit as he activated his sensors. "He's been in the area of the control room for the last half hour."
"That's it. I'll try to get in," Goldbug declared, holding up his laser gun.
"Goldbug…"
Gears stopped midway, for it was then that the minibots heard the whistle of an incoming transmission.
"This is Spike here. Do you read me, guys?"
The three Autobots exchanged a glance, certainly surprised. "Spike? How did you…?" Goldbug started.
"Let's just say that I have a surprise for you," Spike said, sounding pleased. "Stand back for a moment."
None of the minibots knew what Spike was talking about, but they decided to comply nonetheless. As soon as all three of them were at a safe distance, Gears talked to his radio transmitter again.
"Okay, Spike. Show us."
In the next moment, about a dozen blaster turrets emerged noisily from the mountainside and directed their barrels to the rubble as if they had a mind of their own. The minibots watched in shock as their base seemed to have come back to life once more, firing at the offending boulders that dared cover it.
"Alright!" Warpath exclaimed, almost jumping in joy. "Now that's what I'm – bam! – talking about!"
Neither Goldbug nor Gears could have said it better. The old minibot carried a smile that brightened his features, making him look younger than he actually was; while Goldbug's worries vanished into thin air. He was as giddy as a sparkling now, scarcely containing his anticipation and excitement when he caught a glimpse of the Ark's entrance.
And then, finally, the last boulder was knocked away. Goldbug, Gears and Warpath hurried to the unearthed entrance as fast as their feet could carry them. Spike was already at the threshold, his lips tugged to a grin as broad as his friends'.
"Well? Was it a good surprise?" he asked.
"Just good? This is fantastic!" Goldbug exclaimed, picking up Spike as though he was some sort of doll and hugging him. "I don't know how you did it; but, boy, I can't thank you enough!"
"Well, you can stop crushing me, for starters," Spike said, chuckling.
"Whoops, sorry," Goldbug replied sheepishly, and he put Spike down.
"Seriously though, Spike, how did you do it?" Gears asked, still looking at the familiar orange walls that he had thought he'd never see again.
"I just reconnected some cables and controls that had gotten knocked out of their place," Spike answered. "I couldn't activate Teletraan-I, but I could still operate the blaster turrets manually."
"So if you could – bam! – fix the controls, maybe Teletraan-I can be activated too," Warpath said.
"That's what I thought," Spike said. "But we might need Perceptor's help for that kind of thing."
"Not necessarily true," Gears said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I used to help out whenever we did maintenance checks on Teletraan-I. I think I can recall enough data to patch him up."
"Do you think that will work?" Goldbug asked curiously.
"He won't be in top condition, but he'll be online at least," Gears argued. "That's better than nothing, right?"
Everyone had to agree that that was an excellent point, so they decided to go through with the old minibot's plan. Gears feared that he wouldn't be able to remember as he much as he would have liked. He nevertheless managed to coordinate the whole process efficiently and without error. It also took a lot of patience but, two hours later, the four companions had connected all the power cables on Teletraan-I. They had even rewired several battered relays and pieces of circuitry.
It was Warpath who first noticed it. He was working on one of the smaller monitors that compiled Teletraan-I, when he caught sight of something flashing. He looked up, regarding the main monitor closely. Nothing else happened, though, so Warpath finally decided that he had simply imagined things. He was about to resume with his work, but then he noticed a second flash of light. More importantly, it was brighter than before.
"Uh… Guys? I think you should – bam! – see this."
Gears, Goldbug and Spike stopped working and looked in the same direction Warpath was currently looking. Sure enough, a third flicker of light flashed in the monitor, and then Teletraan-I spoke.
"Processing. Please, standby."
"That was it?" Spike wondered aloud, standing next to Goldbug. "Did we actually bring him online?"
"I don't know," Goldbug answered softly.
"Status: 45% systems online. Repair systems: operative," Teletraan-I continued, sounding oblivious to his surroundings. "Exploring."
A small device sprang out of one of the consoles and hovered above the minibots and Spike. Its camera clicked four times, an indication that it had spotted all four companions and had sent the data back to Teletraan-I. Everyone watched on with bated breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
"Human friend Spike and Autobots Gears and Warpath identified," Teletraan-I declared. "Warning: energy signature and external structure do not match with Autobot Bumblebee."
"Uh oh," Goldbug said, seeing that several defence mechanisms were now aiming their barrels at him.
"Goldbug, give him your code!" Gears said.
"Right." The golden minibot pushed his shoulders back, mustering his courage. "Stand down, Teletraan-I. Access code: five seven three five point eight."
"Processing," Teletraan-I said. There was a small pause. "Access verified. Welcome, Autobot Bumblebee."
"Thanks, although it's Goldbug now," Goldbug pointed out, smiling.
"Data updated," Teletraan-I replied. "Resuming repairs."
The four companions couldn't help but congratulate each other on a job well done. Since Teletraan-I started repairing himself, it would only be a matter of time before the Ark would become a fully functional base once more. It would be just like the old days, before the building of the Autobot City.
"I'd better contact Ultra Magnus and Optimus," Goldbug said then, opening his communication frequencies. "They'll want to hear this."
"Wait," Spike said at that moment. "What's that?"
Goldbug stopped, not sure what was wrong. Looking up, however, he saw what Spike had already noticed, and that was Teletraan-I's monitor flashing bright yellow.
"Whoa! How did that happen?" he exclaimed.
"You gotta – yowza! – kidding me!" Warpath seconded, his optics wide with surprise.
"Guys?" Spike asked, regarding his friends curiously.
"Spike," Gears said quietly. "That's the signal for an incoming transmission. And it's not from Earth or from Cybertron."
Spike felt like his heart skipped a beat. "Then from where?"
"I don't know," Gears answered.
TBC…
