Corona Nox
Chapter Three
"Abandon every hope, all ye who enter here..." - Dante's "Inferno"
The Ark, Colorado, USA, z- nine days
The Ark was quiet. Sideswipe barely noticed the fact, but somewhere, deep down, he appreciated it. The med bay was all but empty, and only the soft hum of various pieces of observation equipment, and the distant shuffling of First Aid working in the office area were present to keep his thoughts company. The crimson Dodge Viper sat next to the bed at the end of the bay furthest from the door, gently holding the hand of its occupant. His twin lay there, completely still, and Sideswipe let out a sigh. He hated seeing Sunny like this, without a doubt.
It seemed that the pair were always in the med bay, for one reason or another. One or the other of the twins would be sporting some injury, and would be trading banter or outright arguing with whoever happened to be within earshot. The thought made Sideswipe smile, something he hadn't been able to do for a while. Feeling helpless wasn't something he was used to, and he knew full well that if he and his brother's positions were reversed, Sunstreaker would be trashing everything in sight, just to vent his frustration.
As Sideswipe began picturing just how mad Ratchet would be if he broke something, just to while away the time, he noticed a noise beginning to encroach upon the quiet around him. It was distant, barely audible, but Sideswipe instantly knew that it was heading his way. And it was going to be loud. As the noise got closer, it resolved itself into high pitched screaming, and with a spark of recognition, the young warrior put the pieces together. In a way, he was both intrigued and worried. He'd never encountered a human sparkling before.
Before long, the source of the offending noise made its way into the med bay. Daniel Witwicky, all of four months old, was a strange sight indeed so far as the red Dodge was concerned. Curled almost into a ball, huddled against his father's right shoulder, the infant was no more than a foot long, all soft edges and blue one-piece. His tiny, pink face was screwed up in obvious distress, one tiny fist half crammed into his mouth, which did nothing to lessen the volume of his crying. Spike stopped just inside the bay entrance, gently bouncing the baby up and down in his arms and making hushing noises, to little effect. When he spotted Sideswipe, he began to walk over.
"Hi Sideswipe", he called up, smiling weakly. The twenty-two year old looked tired, and Sideswipe correctly guessed that the baby had been keeping him awake. "How's Sunstreaker doing?"
"Not well", Sideswipe replied, sounding more exasperated than he meant to. "Ratchet says he's done all he can. Now we just have to wait. Erm, what's wrong with it?" he finished, motioning to Daniel, who was whimpering loudly, though far quieter than he had been. Spike looked from the mech to his son, then back again.
"Teething", he said with a half-grimace. When Sideswipe's only response was to raise his optic ridges a few inches, he tried to explain. "He's growing his first set of teeth. It can be somewhat... uncomfortable. That's why he's crying. You haven't met Daniel yet, have you Sides?" Sideswipe shook his head in the negative, and Spike turned slightly to give him a better view of the baby's face.
"In that case", he said, pride filling his voice, "let me introduce you to Daniel Archibald Witwicky. Danny, meet Sideswipe." He grinned briefly, before continuing. "Carly had to go out of town for a couple of days, and left me and Danny to fend for ourselves. So I brought him here. Unfortunately he's not having such a good day."
"I know the feeling", Sideswipe said to himself with a wry smile, as he slipped out of his chair and dropped to his knees next to the two humans. He found himself strangely drawn to the human protoform; it was, in its own way, sort of cute. He regarded the tiny, pink creature, and after a few seconds found himself asking a question that he never would have asked on a normal day. "Can I hold him?" Spike looked from the red mech, to his son, then back again. A slightly worried expression crossed his features before he spoke.
"I suppose", he said. "I mean, Bumblebee's been great with him; Danny falls asleep with 'Bee quicker than he does with me! Just be careful, okay?"
"No worries", Sideswipe said, in a distracted tone. He reached forward, armoured gauntlets that had destroyed more mechs than he cared to count carefully extending, gently grasping the infant and lifting him into the air. Sideswipe stood slowly, cradling Daniel in his hands, then lifted the baby boy up to eye level and smiled. "He's cute... for an organic", he said after a moment.
"Thanks", grinned Spike, "I'll take that as a compliment." He watched, only slightly concerned, as the young Autobot cradled Daniel against his chest plate, and began mimicking the gentle bouncing technique he had seen Spike using earlier, still grinning to himself. Ten seconds later, the illusion broke as Daniel began to cry again, far louder than he had been before. Spike immediately began to assure Sideswipe, who looked somewhat panicked, that he hadn't done anything wrong. Sideswipe began apologising, and offering to hand Daniel back to Spike.
"You're holding him wrong", said a quiet voice. Amidst the general commotion, neither Sideswipe or Spike had noticed Sunstreaker sit up slowly, and come to a rest with his arms behind him, propping the yellow mech upright. At the sound of his voice, Sideswipe instantly spun to face his brother, a mixture of worry and elation filling his features. His mouth worked silently, his vocalizer emitting half strangled gasps as he struggled with what to say. The elder twin regarded Sideswipe with something that almost resembled affection, before giving him a much more Sunstreaker-like look of mild derision. He swung both legs over the edge of the bed, before leaning forward and stating "Poor little fragger's gonna scream his vocalizer out. Come here."
And with that, the feared warrior, scourge of countless Decepticons and not a few Autobots, reached out and gently took Daniel. Sunstreaker leaned him against his chest plate, and began slowly running the thumb of his right hand down the baby's back in a slow rhythm. A few seconds passed, and the screaming lessened, then stopped altogether. Sunstreaker graced Daniel with a rare smile, then looked at Spike and his brother.
"So how long was I out this time?" he asked, his voice sounding as tired as he looked.
"Too damn long", came Sideswipe's quiet reply. "How do you feel?"
"Like a Dinobot used me for a chew-toy", Sunny grinned. He noted the serious expression on his brother's face, and said more quietly "I'm fine, Sides. Really."
"Good", came Sideswipe's reply, his voice quickly rising in pitch. "That means Ratchet will have less work to do when I kick your aft. What in the deepest circles of the Pit possessed you to pull a stunt like that?"
"Shh, think of the baby!" Sunstreaker said with a smirk.
"I don't care. Give me an answer, Sunny, or Primus help me..."
"I thought they'd got you." The simple statement stopped the red mech's tirade before it could even start. It was completely serious, completely devoid of any of Sunstreaker's usual swagger. "When I saw you drop like you did, I thought Thundercracker's sonic pulse had hit you. You just fell... and it felt like my whole world stopped. I couldn't bare the thought of you not being around, and..." He let the words hang in the air, waiting for a response.
"Oh. I... I'm sorry. I didn't know", Sideswipe muttered, stunned. He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I know, little brother. I mean, after all", Sunny continued, his serious tone evaporating suddenly, "I need someone to stop me from having all the fun!" Sideswipe couldn't help but smile at this, and simply stood for a moment, regarding his twin.
"If you'd rather I took Danny and left you guys to it.." Spike began, breaking the silence. The twin mechs looked down at him, suddenly reminded of his presence. Sunstreaker gave him a crooked smile.
"Nah", he said, before giving a meaningful look at his twin. "I think it's all said and done."
"Amen to that", Sideswipe agreed. "Amen to that."
O o O o O
Jazz was only dimly aware of voices, floating just beyond the darkness. If he concentrated, he could almost make out what they were saying; but most of him didn't want to. Concentrating wasn't even in his vocabulary at the moment. Heck, he told himself, I 'aint even sure 'vocabulary' is in my vocabulary! Nothing mattered. Alone in the dark, he found he didn't care much about anything. Not the strange voices, or the noises that sometimes accompanied them, not even the singing...
He tried listening to the singing. It was almost painful, yet strangely exhilarating. It chilled him to the core, yet was somehow comforting to him. He didn't know what it was, but at the same time knew that he needed it, somehow. Like the ghostly voice was giving him life. Maybe it was, he didn't know. It sang of sorrow so great that his spark threatened to collapse upon itself, it sang of violence and pain so great that he wanted to weep. And it sang of power. Power so great, so unrivalled, that his whole body cried with the sheer joy of it. He needed it, he realised. He fed upon it. So why, then, did it repulse him so?
In the distance, he heard another one of the voices. At first, he could barely make it out over the song. But it grew, pushing the song into the corners of his dark little world, and slowly but surely the voice began to coalesce into words. Or, at least, a word. Jazz, it said,over and over. It echoed, getting louder and louder, the cacophony hurting his audio receptors. Jazz. Jazz. Jazzjazzjazzjazzjazzjazzjazzjazzjazzjazz...
With a start, Jazz lurched forwards against his restraints, powering up his optic as he did so. Optic? That 'aint right, he thought, quickly shutting down his visual systems and restarting them. Again, he powered up his optic, and the singularity of the action startled him. He could make out a blue plated face a few feet from his own, the source of the voice. And slowly, as the voice became clearer, it all came back to him. The mission to New York, the Matrix, Starscream; the memories came flooding back, leaving Jazz reeling. Slowly, he became aware that the blue face was still talking to him, and in a flash he recognised his surroundings, and Optimus Prime standing before him.
"Jazz? Can you hear me?" Prime asked, his voice low. He had seen the protoform's optic sensor activate, but there had still been no response. He was about to try again, when he heard a brief static burst and the first scratchings of a voice.
"Pr... Immmme... Prime? Wheere... where am I?"
"Easy, Jazz. You're in Wheeljack's lab. How do you feel?"
"Don't... don't feel right", Jazz managed after a second.
"I know. We couldn't save your body, Jazz. I'm truly sorry. We had to transfer you to a new body; the Alternator prototype. We're still debugging the neural network, then as soon as you're up to speed we'll get the body form-fixed."
"Prime, I'm sorry", Jazz said, cutting his commander off mid-thought. His vocaliser sounded tinny and flat, but it still managed to carry the remorse that Jazz felt. Prime nodded slowly at his words, then gave him a reassuring smile.
"Jazz", he said in his warmest voice. "You did everything that you could. More, even. That is the whole reason that I picked you for this assignment. And for that, I am proud of you. And I thank you, my friend. There is no reason for you to apologise."
Decepticon Lunar Outpost, Mere Crisium
Megatron sat alone in the command room, deep in thought. Around him, the outpost's computer systems hummed quietly to themselves, data displays and control panels providing most of the light for the room, and producing the only noise. It was almost serene, a far cry from the thoughts swirling around Megatron's neural network. They all focussed upon the previous day, and the crushing defeat he and his forces had suffered at the hands of Starscream. It had been short, violent and utterly brutal.
But what worried Megatron most was that the defeat had come, not at the hands of Starscream and his forces, but the hands of Starscream. By himself. The raw power the traitor had managed to unleash had been truly terrifying to behold. Megatron had been convinced that the Matrix of Power would not accept Starscream, that he would be too weak, too unworthy. And he had been proven totally, unequivocally wrong. And his forces had paid for that mistake dearly. He could see it all too clearly...
Starscream, hovering before him, optics glowing a venomous green. Megatron had remembered then, recalling the power that he had known as the Matrix of Power's master. He knew what Starscream was feeling at that particular moment in time, and as a result, he knew precisely what was coming next. Up to that point, Starscream had been wrestling with the armour containing the Matrix, cursing, pleading and screaming for it to open, to share its power. And as it had, finally, and Starscream's optics had taken on their new colour, Megatron felt two things: terror, and envy.
In short order, Starscream had ended the battle. The surreal sight of the air commander, flying at full speed, ramming the midsection of Pirahnacon and breaking the gestalt apart would stay with Megatron for a very long time. Not a single one of the loyalists had escaped undamaged, but miraculously there had been no actual casualties. As soon as the last of Megatron's forces had been disabled, Starscream had ordered a withdrawal of his own warriors. But not before he had delivered a chilling soliloquy, telling the battered remnants that the only reason they were alive was to witness his ascension to supremacy...
Starscream had to be stopped. There were no two ways about it. The question was, how? For a brief, horrifying instant, Megatron's thoughts were drawn to Optimus Prime, and his Matrix of Leadership. After all, they had beaten Megatron when he had owned the Matrix of Power, at the very beginning of the War. If he could arrange for some kind of truce... no. The very idea made Megatron feel like purging his intake valve. He would have to do this his own way. And Primus help Starscream when he finally got his revenge...
High Council Chambers, Axalon District, Iacon City, Cybertron
Councillor Arcturis ran for his life, ancient servos and drive systems whining in complaint as he did so. The corridors of the council building echoed with his frantic footsteps, his rasping intakes of air bouncing in random directions from the marble lined walls and columns, accentuated by an upper gallery and a high vaulted ceiling. Behind him, he could make out the sounds of his pursuers, their multiple footfalls loud against the silence. He had to escape them; if they learned what he knew, all could be lost. And so he ran, as hard and as fast as his frail chassis would allow. In the distance, he could hear the Decepticons getting closer.
"I know you're there, Councillor" The voice of the invader's leader rang out, the acoustics of the opulent hallway lending his words a cold, harsh clarity. "I can hear your spark pulsing in your chest. I can smell the energon coursing through you systems. Rest assured, ancient one, I will hunt you down." The voice drove a spike of fear into Arcturis' spark, and he redoubled his efforts to escape his would-be captors.
Suddenly, the sound of one of the windows in the upper gallery smashing inwards brought him to a halt, a hail of armourcrys shards raining down onto the lower hallway. The glass-like fragments were followed by a large, vaguely humanoid form, which crashed into the floor a few metres ahead of Arcturis, shattering the mosaic floor with it's impact. The purple and white, gorilla-shaped mech glared at the Councillor with muted red optics for a second, before raising itself up on its hind legs, hammering its fists into its chest plate and loosing an animalistic roar. Apeface dropped back to rest on his knuckles, savouring the fear on his quarry's features. As Arcturis turned on his heels and ran the way he had come, the Terrorcon grinned feraly, before spitting a gobbet of fuel primer onto the floor. He didn't need to chase the mech; he'd be back soon enough.
True enough, less than thirty seconds later a terrified scream tore through the air, and Councillor Arcturis ran back into sight. An instant later, the corridor was lit up bright as Earth's sun, and the Councillor was wreathed in green-white plasma, which sent him sprawling across the floor. Before he could move, Apeface pounced, roughly hoisting him into the air and hurling him into the nearest wall. He transformed to his robot form, and stood there, leering at the prone form of his slowly recovering victim as his brother, Snapdragon, stalked into the shaft of light that framed the scene.
"I think you broke him", Snapdragon smirked, as he too converted to his robot form.
"'Aint my slaggin' fault", Apeface growled in reply, before grinning stupidly. "Stupid frakker shouldn't a landed on 'is 'ead, should he? Besides, you settin' 'im alight probably didn't help."
"That's quite enough", Starscream interrupted them, eliciting a mumbled "Sorry, boss" from the twins. Emerald optics glared at them from the shadows for a moment, before continuing. "Snapdragon, do me a favour and sit our guest up, would you?" Snapdragon complied, roughly hoisting Arcturis into a sitting position and leaned him against the wall. Slowly, the Councillor began to come around, then snapped alert with a gasp.
"What... what do you want from me", he quailed.
"You know very well what I seek", Starscream hissed, stepping slowly into the light, his optics flashing dangerously. "Tell me where it is, and I may let you live."
"I will never tell you", Arcturis said, his voice slowly gaining an edge of conviction. "You will never find it."
"My dear Councillor, that was a dreadful mistake", Starscream answered menacingly, dropping onto one knee in front of the older mech. "You are going to tell me where I can find the Matrix of Combination. You are going to tell me everything you know about the legend of the Teardrops of Primus, seeing as Councillor Quixis proved to be so useless. And then, when I am finally tired of hearing you scream, you will be allowed to die..."
Author's Notes: Well, I'm not amazingly happy with it, but it does its job. (Deep sigh). Not an easy one to write, this one. On to the usual suspects:
Transformers and all related characters/locations are the property of Hasbro/HasTak Inc., not myself. On hindsight, that's probably a good thing; I mean, who wants a Dinobot trampling their back yard, right?
Councillors Arcturis and Quixis are mine. If they bear any resemblance to anyone else's work, it's purely coincidental. Please don't sue me!
And last, but by no means least, Artemis is the property of my good friend Prime Revolver (though I did get to add the 'Prime' bit :) ) Thanks again, sis.
Chapter four coming soon, I hope!
