History
"Now there's a sunset," Hot Rod said, as he leaned against the hull of the Ark, near the dent Bulkhead's backside left. The whole ship was scorched and pock-marked from centuries in space. He patted the side and whistled. It was a shame to see so much history parked into the side of mountain. He turned back to watch the creep of the yellow sun begin to dip behind the range. Bumblebee made a noise of agreement.
Well, Hot Rod hoped it was agreement. There really had not been much talk coming from the angry scout. It'd been mega-vorns since... Hot Rod frowned.
He and a small group of Autobots had been pinned down in-he struggled to remember exactly which city. By that stage in the war, aside from Kaon and Iacon, they were nearly all rubble. He strained his processors as he rummaged through his storage, giving into the narrative in his head. If Bee wasn't going to talk to him, he might as well remember why.
They were in Praxus, his eyes widened. The Decepticons had them stuck on a back street, about thirty stories up from the lower depths of the towers. There'd been cycles of intense missile fire from above that was weakening the the lattice work of roads and bridges that linked structures in the city. Like everything on Cybertron, before the war it had been a one of the great and varied jewels of the planet.
They has been racing from spot to spot, trying to find a safe spot to hunt down the sniper. It was him, Bumblebee, Brawn, Green Torch, and a blue and purple bot-Hot Rod couldn't remember his name anymore. (The file had become too corrupted from time and exposure to cosmic rays.) Green Torch went down first when the first bridge collapsed. They were all almost across when the blast hit above.
There was a crash as steel and paristeel began raining down from the sky. Green Torch was bringing up the rear, firing off his own ordinance to meet and repel the falling debris. He missed the last piece that came down behind him. Hot Rod remembered how he was just almost across... Then he was transforming,
::It's collapsing,:: Cracked across their comms. Hot Rod turned, racing back. He leaped into robot-mode.
Green fingers held onto the edge, even as the edge began to bend from the weight and stress. He grabbed Green Torch's arm, beginning to pull him up. He looked into his optics as the other bot's face contorted into horror. "Look out!" He screeched.
Hot Rod looked up. He heard the sound of a missile from above. Thundercracker hovered above them, firing down at his leisure. There was a hunter's glint in his optics. The missile shot down. Hot Rod pulled away, tugging on Green Torch.
Then suddenly, the the arm went slack. He looked over at the space in front of him. His optics widened in horror. Green Torch's hand still gripped his own, but sparked from where the bot had once been connected to it. Hot Rod released the hand, not sure what else to do. He transformed and pushed his accelerator to join the group. The only good thing, he realized, they now knew the identity of their attacker.
"Sir?" One of the human soldiers looked up at him. Since Bee could not talk to them without some sort of visual aid, they started coming to him with periodic reports. He had tried begging them off earlier on. After all, he was supposed to only be there temporarily, which made his spark dim each time he looked at the damage on the ship.
"Yes, Spike?"
"Yes, sir," the soldier said. "Agent Fowler said you should be expecting relief soon."
"Oh, remembered us, did they?" Hot Rod folded his arms and glanced at Bee. He could not understand why either of were being punished for a little horseplay. But the time outside had given him time to search for an appropriate alt-form.
"I..." Captain Witwicky shrugged. "I make it a habit not to speculate when it comes down to you bots."
"Spent that much time around us?" He asked.
"Since I was a Private," Witwicky said. "Bagged a couple 'Cons myself."
"Impressive," Hot Rod was not sure if batch-mechs counted as much resistance, but humans were supposed to still be primitive. He took another look at the weapons they were carrying. They did not look standard issue. And none of Fowler's men looked like they handled the weapons like rookies.
"Fine. How long?" Hot Rod wondered. The stars were coming out. The desert around them was starting to become noisy with wildlife.
::Gets dark out here quick:: Bee said ominously. His brights one his chest flashing in Hot Rod's optics. He flipped his own on in response.
"Within the hour, Fowler said. They are tracking another ET coming in fast up north."
"Who knew Earth was such a popular vacation spot?" Hot Rod wondered.
"It isn't supposed to be," Witwicky frowned, beginning to walk back to his command post half a klik away. The best Hot Rod could tell they'd blocked everything off for seven or eight kliks all around. There'd also been no air traffic.
"How are you going to cover all this mess up?" Hot Rod asked.
"Don't know, not in my pay grade," Witwicky said as he kept walking.
Hot Rod frowned and glanced at Bumblebee. "Look, I'm sorry. What the slag else do you want me to do? I can't undo it what happened"
Bumblebee slumped.
::Hot Rod,:: Brawn's voice came out of his memories. ::Blast it! Keep up. This isn't a time for sightseeing. And pass that onto Green Torch.::
Horrified, Hot Rod dumped his most recent memories through the comm before laughter started to fill it. An old Seeker hunting song filled the airwaves. All they could hear in real-time was the sound of Thundercracker's engines as he rocketed through the tunnels after them. Instead of targeting them, he started targeting loose objects above them with his lasers.
He was determined to crush them. ::You see, I made a bet with my sister on just how many Autobots I could crack open to see just what filled their spark chambers. She's killed three of you in another part of the city, and I hate to lose.::
::Well, you better prepare yourself for it,:: Brawn snapped around, transforming before unleashing a volley himself. Thundercracker kept flying. Brawn's fist was outstretched as it smacked into Thundercracker's nosecone. He crumpled against the side of the wide tunnel, transforming before he hit it.
The other three 'bots turned, prepared to make a stand against the Seeker. There really was only two directions for him to fly in, assuming he did not bring the whole structure down on them. The four of them unleashed a barrage of laser fire on the Seeker. Still, none of it snuck past his energy shielding.
"Scrap!" Bumblebee yelled, hearing the sonic pulse begin to generate from inside Thundercracker. Their eyes widened as they all transformed and began to race towards the next bend. The ceiling began to cave in. Hot Rod was fender to fender with the yellow bot as they raced to outrun the cave in. The blue bot was behind them, his sensory circuits scrambled all the input. Hot Rod and Bee didn't see it when he bought it...
(Out Run? Was that the bots name? Wars shouldn't be measured in galactic turns, he reflected. Lost friends should not outnumber the stars in the galaxy.)
They both raced, ignoring everything behind them. Hot Rod tried to push out the pure panic until something gave in himself and he started the turn. Energon pumped through his engines. It was too much like the last Great Cybertronian Prix from vorns before. He moved, reading to bear into the turn.
After all, they'd just lost Green Torch and Out Run, gone before they had a chance to react. All Hot Rod could do was react. His processors locked into what he knew best: racing. His accelerator pushed as he leaned in too close. The yellow bot couldn't win! Not this time! He smashed violently into Bumblebee.
Bumblebee wiped out, smashing his back end into the wall. The tunnel shook as the dust settled. Brawn stopped, so did Hot Rod. They transformed, going back for Bumblebee.
"Are you-?" Hot Rod asked Bee.
Anger and panic showed across the bot's face. The blips and beeps of the base Cybertronian dialect came out. His vocalizer's software had been scrambled. He could only manage to speak in their most basic of machine languages.
"Well," Brawn shook his head as he surveyed Bumblebee's damage. His legs was crushed and transforming was out of the question. He tapped his secure communicator. "This is Brawn, three for immediate evac."
"Bee, I'm sorry," Hot Rod tried to explain. Unfortunately, he already knew that the only way to fix Bee would be to reformat Bumblebee's core software, so integrated the vocalizers were into their makeup.
Instead, Bumblebee slapped away his hand. ::You idiot. You conceded oil slicker! It wasn't a scrapping race. You never could handle losing.::
Brawn looked up, then at Hot Rod. Bombs started going off around them. "Atomics," Brawn said grimly. He knew the world around them was being levelled.
"So much for Praxus," Hot Rod looked down, wondering how long it would be. Nose to nose, Hot Rod still wondered if he had been caught up in the ancient memories of racing other bots for energon, glory and the femmes instead of for his life. It was a move he had done to bot after bot going round the long track...that was now vaporized in Praxus.
Somehow, the building they were in held. They stayed put, and waited. It took several cycles before anyone could get to them. Hot Rod endured Bumblebee's seething anger. If it weren't for Brawn's calming presence and Bee's destroyed leg, he might not have made it out alive...
"I've wanted to say this a long time," Hot Rod was shaking from his memory by a short, black human standing in front of him. "Fuck you!"
"What?" Hot Rod blinked before looking up at Bee. The yellow bot seemed dimmer than usual, his lights were off.
"Yeah, look at me, down here," The human said.
"Uhm," Hot Rod's optics blinked again. "Oh, you got some of Wheeljack's toys?"
Quickly, Hot Rod created a human template from an actor that seemed pretty popular in human culture from England. It shimmered into life. He stood tall with a shock of flaming red hair with a red and yellow racing jacket to match Bee's black and yellow one. "Kup and I saw him a cycle or so ago on Junkion. He gave us a couple of these to help us out as we roamed. Didn't know he gave some to Optimus' crew too."
He frowned and looked down. "I don't know what happened back in that tunnel, but I messed up. It was too much."
"You're just saying that because you're stuck here," Cassius-Bee patted the side of the Ark before getting in close.
"Possibly," Hot Rod shrugged. "But what else can I do, but roll with it?"
"Fine, we race and settle it," Bee said.
"When we won't get shot by a stasis ray by Elita-One, or chewed out by Optimus," Hot Rod offered his hand. It was the human thing to do. Grudgingly, Bumblebee took it and shook.
Hot Rod looked up at himself, "Damn, I'm one attractive bot."
"With sand in your optics if you keep it up," Bee replied, folding his arms. "We're big, aren't we?"
"Yeah," He agreed.
Bee glanced at him. "Knock-Out is on the other side here too. I owe him a few paint scratches."
"Knock-Out, really?" Hot Rod smirked. "We may not have enough for a league race, but there's plenty of roads to pretend."
"Optimus doesn't allow it," He shrugged. "Too much like the old days with the pits. We aren't meant to be wagered on for sport."
"Really?" Hot Rod shook his head before glancing at Bumblebee. "We'll see about that. What if it really is my choice?"
"The humans have laws against it on their roads," Bee added.
The human, Spike, started marching up again, weapon drawn. "Identify yourselves. And where did you come from?"
Hot Rod pointed up at his body. "There."
"Uh, shit," Spike looked at Bumblebee and Hot Rod before looking at their holoforms. He walked up to Cassius. "I've always wanted to shake your hand, and thank you for saving my ass that time."
"It was no problem," Bumblebee said awkwardly. He'd never conversed with a human outside of Raf, or the kids at breakfast earlier in the day.
"It's what we do," Hot Rod said.
"I ain't seen you do anything but run your mouth," Spike said.
"Call me Cassius," Bee said. "Cassius Clay."
"Right," Spike scratched the back of his neck after holstering his gun.
"What do I call you, red?"
"What's a good human name?" Hot Rod asked.
"I've got a son named Daniel that would love what you've picked," Spike said.
"That works," Hot Rod decided. "Daniel."
"Try Ron, instead," Spike said, frowning.
"Why?" Hot Rod asked.
"I don't know," Spike walked away. "My son isn't annoying."
"Everywhere you go, right?" Bee asked. "Hot Ron Weasely."
"Yes, everywhere I go." Hot Rod sighed. "I always thought people liked me."
"Brawn liked you," Bumblebee shrugged. "Don't know why."
"He always saw the divinity in me," Hot Rod stood up a bit taller, smugly. "He's gone back to the pulpit."
"The Church of Primus, again?" Bumblebee asked, skeptically.
"Optimus wasn't on New Cybertron, so there's no one to divine the will of Primus, so a few of the remaining clerics started it up again. "All of them are claiming they supported the no-Caste sect, of course. Like the Cyber-Ninja school."
"We killed Primus when we killed Cybertron," Bumblebee looked down glumly. Being one of the last ones sparked, it has an affect on him. He still felt close to him, and Optimus because of it. "Let him rest."
"Tell that to Brawn and the others." Hot Rod shrugged. "He always asks where I was during the micro-vorn communion."
"What do you tell him?" Bee smirked.
"Tune up, of course," Hot Rod chuckled, slapping Bee's back. maybe they could be friends again.
"I heard they had a big convert though," He added, looking at Bee.
"Who? A 'Con?" He asked.
"Swindle, no less," Hot Rod burst into laughter. "He decided to rob Solus Prime's tomb at it gave him a hell of a reprogramming."
"No slagging way," Bee leaped up, to sit on his own yellow shoulder. Just to match him, Hot Rod did the same to his own.
"Odd view," He looked around into the night. He sniffed the air. "So what's up with Arcee?"
"What?" Bee's eyed widened.
"You get into her chamber, at all?"
"No," Bumblebee frowned. "And after her and Cliffjumper, I don't think…." He shook his head realizing what Hot Rod was really asking. "Trust me, she won't be into it. There's Jack-" He sniffed the air, noticing the telltale smell of ozone as the bridge began to come to life.
"Damn it," He said, realizing he'd was about to be in so much trouble.
Agent Fowler walked out with Ironhide and Bulkhead at either side of them.
Ironhide chuckled, "Well, now it seems old Prime was right. Stick you two out here by yourselves with no other option than to talk to each other, and you'll work it out." He looked at both holoforms. "I just didn't think it would be like this."
The holoforms disappeared as the projectors dropped. Both bots came back online.
"We're uhmm," Bulkhead looked at them both, surprised. "We're here to relieve you."
"Good," Hot Rod stretched his arms and legs. "I've got sand in my gears."
"Ratchet and Kup are back at base with Optimus," Ironhide added. "You'll both be needed, so get oiled up and charged."
Bee saluted, standing up straighter. Ever the good solider, Hot Rod thought. "Oh well," Hot Rod said, patting the hull again of the Ark. "Remember when this was a pleasure ship? Before it was rechristened "
"That you were too young to fly on," Ironhide put a hand on his shoulder.
"A sparkling could have dreams," Hot Rod laughed, trying not to forget that it had been staffed mostly by low caste femme slaves.
"Hot Rod," Bulkhead said, frowning. "Get back to base before you make someone else mad."
"Yes, sir," Hot Rod agreed. "Can someone give me a bridge?"
Bee squawked and beeped before transforming. He revved his engine before kicking sand into Hot Rod's shins.
::We're only a kiik,:: Bee told him before shooting off in the direction of the base, which was inside the perimeter the Army set up.
Hot Rod chuckled before joining him in hot pursuit.
"'Hide," Fowler shouted. "Bulk, I want you to meet the command staff that'll be keeping interested humans away."
"Sure," Ironhide stomped his way over.
"Bulk, you know Spike and Will."
"How you doing?" Bulkhead asked them both.
"Ironhide, this is Captains Spike Witwicky and Williams Lennox," Fowler introduced them. "Treat them right, and they'll take care of it."
"Very well, Agent Fowler," Ironhide knelt down to look at them both. "Always good to meet a couple of soldiers."
Lennox looked up and smirked, "Just long as we're all on the same side."
Ironhide chuckled himself and looked at Bulkhead. "Now, what in Unicron's vat's has been going on around here?"
Bulkhead frowned, putting a hand on Ironhide's forearm. Hero or not, there were things he had to know about Earth. "Careful, the ground could still have ears..."
OoOoOoOoO
Firewalled! Slipstream raged inside her own head. In her makeshift cell, she discovered quickly that Optimus had left open a door into their networks. Of course, only the librarian would be clever enough to wall a data miner like her in. He had left quite a bit for her to peruse, but how was much truth, and how much was propaganda? After all, she remembered, he had intended her to spend some time thinking. Still, Optimus Prime never dealt in falsehoods, just the Autobot version of the truth.
The war raged all around her inside the digital domain, played out again for her benefit. She had missed so much in near death on that asteroid. No one had come for her in all that time, not even her brother Starscream...
::I did not intend these painful truths to come like this:: Optimus Prime stood before her. Was this a projection, or the bot himself?
She started to ask, but instead he raised his hand. It silenced her thought.
::Slipstream,:: He said. ::You've been the Seeker's intelligence expert long enough to know when something is just a memory.::
::Yes,:: She walked around Prime, gauging him.
::This is the only place I knew you would listen."
::My mind, your mind?:: She glanced around.
::Teletraan 1::
::And just what do you intend for me to hear and learn?:: Slipstream asked.
::Truth.::
::Your truth?:: Her guards inside her own mind went up, prepared for an assault from the computer systems, from Prime himself. There were so many dangerous things. With her body in stasis and purely in the computational realm, she was just as vulnerable as spending the vorns in her own mind on that rock.
::We've failed,:: She said with acceptance.
::All of us,:: Optimus said in agreement.
What was the point to this? She wondered. What did he want? Taking and keeping prisoners did not happen much on Cybertron. Every battle was to the death. Both sides hated each other with nearly the same vitriol Megatron held for the data archivist that now kept her under lock and key.
::Between here, and the new colony,:: He said. ::We can begin again, Slipstream. The old ways must end.::
Somehow, she knew. She called up Megatron and Starscream's recent failures. The messes they created. It was typical of them both to decide that if they could not control their planet, their people, they would settle for this insignificant ball of dirt orbiting a mundane yellow star. If it wasn't for the energon deposits...
::I waited to show you something,:: Prime said, trawling his own memories. The world around them shifted. She looked around them. They stood before a mountain that pumped out a purple ooze.
::Dark Energon, here?:: Her optics widened with surprise. A quick file audit showed the memories to be true ones. Her vision swept across the memory as she saw two combatants in a mortal struggle. Optimus fought Megatron with a ferocity she had never witnessed on their home planet.
He forwarded through the memory. They now stood on a thin bridge. Metallic creatures swooped around them. She resisted the urge to swat at the things. His Autobots fought bravely. The femme rode one to safety, killing the flying bots as she went.
Optimus and Megatron... She had never witnessed such a thing. They fought back to back nearly as one, almost with the same mind of any combiner. It was more than that. It was if the two bots shared a spark. "Brother..." Megatron used to call the librarian-Orion Pax.
She looked to Optimus Prime and regarded him once again. For once, she felt she understood. She had watched the speech in the Senate's chamber with Starscream. Scream's smirking and scheming forced her to keep her opinions to herself on the matter. The gears were turning so fast in his head she was afraid he might overheat his processors again. He thought he could manipulate the brute. Slipstream's own investigations into Megatron's records showed just how cunning he really was. She would have had something solid to warn the Wing Commander with if it was not for that overly tight spring, Soundwave.
She scowled, coming back to what Optimus was showing her. They were facing the very essence of Unicron.
::Unicron's belly is worse than the old one's would have you believe,:: Her guide commented as they walked through the action, following the memory file to the end.
::How did you come up with such a perspective?:: She asked.
::I've asked my Autobots to share the memories for posterity.:: He replied. ::Others must know that this is Unicron's resting place, much as our own husk of a planet is Primus'.:: She had never heard a bot speak with such regret.
::Why show me?::
::You've missed a lot.::
::I have more,:: His hands moved in the air, as if manipulating a control screen. ::Would you accompany me to the Nemesis?::
::I have a choice?:: Slipstream wondered.
::No,:: Optimus said grimly as the bridge appeared. ::I obtained all of this during the brief time I was tricked into wearing the purple mask::
Slipstream frowned as she realized that none of it was a facsimile either. The numbers of Deceptions, just as the numbers of Autobots seemed to be greatly reduced to batch-mechs sparked and constructed for the cause.
::Megatron uses mental slaves,:: Optimus said.
Slipstream walked the bridge before looking out. She looked at the memory of Soundwave, of Knock-Out...or a shocked Airachnid when Optimus was spotted.
::Every Cybertronian life is precious,:: Optimus said. ::Even yours, Slipstream.::
Instead of agreeing, she took control of the simulation. drawing upon her own distant memories. Rock formed around them, then the empty void of space. It was cold. Stars glittered in the distance. They moved slowly around a red sun. Junkion passed in the inner solar system a quarter light year away.
::This is where you left me,:: Slipstream said. ::For Mega-cycles. This is where the Decepticons abandoned me while my beacon blared into the night::
::An the bots on Junk?:: Optimus wondered.
::Were not our people,:: Slipstream reminded him. ::I waited and waited, powering down except for a few nano-cycles every orbit around that star. Vorns passed. I did everything to strengthen my signal.:: She sneered at Optimus, knowing she would sneer at Megatron or Starscream equally. They should never have been reduced to such madness. Data points dropped into place as mistake, after mistake, after mistake became clear.
But still, Starscream as her Wing Commander and flight brother. Where he flew, she followed. It was the Seeker way.
And then, she felt something move by her cell. It was the slightest of signal, but it was enough for her to latch onto. She held the signal, worming part of her intelligence through as she jumped from one wireless relay to another wireless relay. She reached a fork: she could begin exploring the Earth's networks and get a signal out to Scream and her brothers, to risk losing the tenuous connection to the small digital device that seemed to be filled with all the prattling of a human girl; or she could follow the other connection straight into Teletraan 1.
Inwardly, she smiled, after spending a nano-cycle to peruse the multitude of snapshots of her former cohorts in various compromising situations. There were quite a few of the humans as well. It confirmed much of what she suspected of the hypocrisy of the Autobots. They never had sought to undo the systems that held their society stagnant, but simply step into the void left by the upper castes. They were all middling bots, taking organic pets of their own. Slipstream knew the practice to be ghastly. It did not take long for her to discover that she was also having boy trouble...
As she mulled over the implications, she began picking through the ancient computer (Or at least, the parts of it she could bear to examine. There were just some things they were not meant to fathom. It would have been as if she were looking upon the spark of Primus himself. Slipstream knew she would never be worthy.)
A local ground bridge, she noticed as she picked through the control programing. The locks on her cell door were simple enough, as were the codes for her cuffs. In her corporeal form, she began to test her servos. The stasis ray was beginning to wear off. She giggled with amusement as she realized just what sort of systems Teletraan had been grafted onto... It was an ageing weapons control system with its own satellite uplink. Lazy, lazy bots. It did not take long to determine their location. How convenient of them to connect to a few others to track something else trying to land on the pathetic little blue world. Unicron or not, it did not seem like a place she wanted to stick around on for long.
She stood, shedding the cuffs finally. Now, all she needed was the perfect little hostage. Luckily, she was just outside the door...
OoOoOoOoO
"Oh, Miko," Bulkhead recorded into her voicemail. "Don't be angry. He's just a boy." He understood, he really did. He had been hurt like that before vorns before on Cybertron. He just did not need to think about it, or bring up old paint scratches. All he did was just loose his best mate to the gestalt of Devestator. Old wreckage, he reminded himself, trying to listen to Ironhide as he began to detail the damage on the Ark.
"It'd take two whole crews back on Cybertron," Bulkhead frowned. "I know, 'cause I worked on her the last time Elita crashed this behemoth."
"Yeah, you were there for that, son?" 'Hide asked.
"Wreckers were on in Iacon then," Bulk replied. "Not many Constructicons on our side."
"Don't I remember it," Ironhide agreed. He turned and patted the old ship lovingly. "Old gal, if you have to be scrapped, we'll do it right."
"Might be enough to salvage and build something new," Bulkhead shrugged. "But it'll take time and-" He looked back at the humans. "Manpower."
"Ah?" Ironhide followed his gaze, looking back at the humans. "Bet they'd love a looksie inside."
"Maybe even enough to melt some of us down for it," Bulkhead said warningly.
"Wouldn't be the first time it's been done," Ironhide shook his head before walking back towards the engines. "They seem like they're intact."
"Otherwise, there would be a crater," Bulk reminded him. "With a half-life of a few million vorns."
"Primus!" Ironhide agreed shaking his head. "And plenty of dead bots and organics."
"So, how many of you have gone native?" Ironhide asked with a smirk.
"Native?" Bulk wondered.
"You know, tried out the local fauna?"
"Oh," Bullkhead looked away and frowned. "Don't know, haven't asked."
"Ha!" Ironhide laughed skeptically. "That femme's up to something, and not saying much."
"Uh," Bulk looked down, not wanting to betray anything. However, it did not look like Ironhide didn't approve... "Not my place, barely my business."
"Of course," Ironhide leaned against the ship, certain it would hold his weight. Bulkhead joined him and started watching the people scurrying around with their trucks going between outposts. The silence held before Ironhide started up again, "Of course, I can't say I haven't seen the softer side of organics. Can't say I haven't enjoyed a tentacle or two."
"Uhh," Bulk looked at the old bot.
"Only problem with organics is their shelf life." Ironhide frowned from the replay of memories. "Their squishiness."
"Uhh." Bulk looked up from the horizon. He focused on the shadows rather than the old bot's reminiscing. It was the last thing he wanted to think about. It was also the last thing he wanted to consider, interfacing with an organic. He just wasn't made for them, or made for that, or even pairing off.
It was about the work crew, building something, creating something new where nothing had been in its place. It was about the brotherhood of following a master plan. That was how he was programmed. It was the thing the war trashed in him so thoroughly, that it'd nearly deadened his spark. Prime and Kup had taught him about becoming so much more than his programming, just like the humans did every day. He just knew he did not need much more than what he had... He looked back at the ship, seeing the project in front of them. He wouldn't mind being a laborer again.
He thought about Miko and Jack and Arcee. He did not need that kind of complication. Sure, he liked Miko, like he could like his own sparkling. He just did not understand what Arcee was up to with Jack. Poor Miko, he thought.
"Saw you couldn't manifest a human projection too," Ironhide added.
"Yeah," Bulkhead admitted. "They're not a bad species, but-"
"Not us," Ironhide agreed.
"You might be stuck here a while. Supplies could be a bit rough with a rebuild."
"Just one more adventure," Ironhide laughed, slapping him on the back. "Just one more adventure in a long string of them."
"Earth isn't so bad," Bulkhead said, looking back at the humans. "A few bot's with some initiative could build a paradise here."
"With a trade," Ironhide added.
"Isn't that everywhere we land?" Bulkhead added. "Hell, the ancients were even here."
"Hell?" Ironhide wondered.
"Human concept, not as close as we are to Unicron's vats."
"That bad?"
"Prime has a simulation based on our recordings," Bulkhead shivered. "He thought we might need proof."
"Bad then," Ironhide shook his head, kicking the ground for good measure. He suddenly wanted to be off that planet and be anywhere else as soon as he could.
"So the human you kept watching during that party for Arcee's pet?" 'Hide wondered.
"A friend, a sister," Bulkhead said with confidence. He tried her phone again. "And if I can get her to pick up her phone, I'll get her to come out."
"Why?" 'Hide wondered.
"She livens everything up," Bulkhead laughed. "Too quiet out here." He slid through the radio stations around the globe before settling on a classic rock station from Texas he was sure Ironhide would like. There was something about him that reminded him of an old pickup, or an SUV. He wondered if he'd picked out an alt-form yet.
"What's that?" Ironhide was pointing towards a large, black shadow circling overhead, only noticeable by the stars it eclipsed. One of the humans was leveling a pulse cannon, ready to take aim at it. Bulk wasn't sure if it was such a good idea. He mulled calling it in, or stopping them. It did not look like an organic bird.
A blue energy blast shot from the back of the truck the cannon was mounted on. The bird plummeted to the ground.
They both transformed, driving out the half mile to where it fell. Witwicky and Lennox rode out with the sniper.
"Laserbeak," Witwicky said, looking up at both of the looked back at his man. "Hell of a shot, Antilles."
"Yeah," Ironhide agreed. "One a million Autobots wanted to make."
He reached down, picking the still twitching Decepticon up. "I've never known Soundwave to let her do something like that."
"Her?" Bulkhead wondered.
"Only a femme could be this sneaky for so long," He laughed.
"Don't say that around my wife and daughter," Lennox laughed.
"We should report this in," Bulkhead said, wincing as Ironhide snapped Laserbeak's neck in two, ensuring that its transmitters to Soundwave were destroyed.
"I'd give you something as a trophy," Ironhide said, holding the head and body in each hand. "But I'm sure Ratchet would want to examine this. Might be something stored worth looking at. Might finally get that answer we've been wondering for years."
Bulkhead leaned over and looked at Ironhide, waiting for an explanation. Truthfully, 'Hide was nothing like the bot he expected. They might have been able to save Laserbeak...
"You don't know?" Ironhide asked.
"We never knew if Soundwave was a femme that had been worked on playing gladiator or not."
"Oh," Bulkhead's optics widened. "But..."
"There was a separate pool over it," He continued. "Even speculation that Soundwave and Airachnid were rivals for Megatron. It was all over the holos. Then things started getting political, and you know..."
"They got real," Bulkhead agreed. Why hadn't he heard any of this? Shame Miko wasn't there. She'd have loved it. He took a step back before trying her phone again. There was nothing. He started contacting the base, same result.
"Ironhide," He said. "I think we've got a problem."
OoOoOoOoO
"Yeah," Jack said into his helmet's comm as he rode Arcee into the sunset as they raced along a deserted highway next to Prowl. He'd been ignoring the incessant buzzing from his phone for a few minutes. "She's really pissed."
"How can you tell?" Arcee's voice broadcasted into his ears.
"Oh, you know," Jack said, realizing for himself that he did not have any real proof other being thrown out of her room. He did not want read the obscenities he was certain were being hurled to his phone.
"She's tough," Arcee decided. "She'll move on."
"Yeah," He looked down at the speedometer to check it. A bug smacked against his face screen. Just another ride, he thought. "I saw you first, you know."
"You mother thinks I'm up to something," Arcee replied.
"Yeah?" Jack leaned forward almost into her handlebars. "I told her before we left."
"She said she would slash my tires," Arcee wondered if she should consider a better location for power downs than their garage.
Jack laughed uneasily, "She'll deal with it. She's dealt with the giant robot thing. This isn't that weird. Right?"
"I don't know, Jack." There was a long pause in the conversation. Jack decided to leave her to it. "Hey, does anything look familiar about those tire marks?"
"Yeah," Jack frowned, a few eye twitches and he compared them with some of Miko's pictures. "Knock-Out's brand."
"Coincidence?"
"I don't know," Jack's frown deepened. "Are there ever coincidences? It's not like he ever picks out anything common." He'd seen Knock-Out use seven different alt-forms in the past couple years, and none of them were models he had ever seen anywhere but on Top Gear. He followed the streaks with his eyes. "Looks like they go on for another mile and then he made a sharp turn. He must have been booking it."
"Since when did he ever take things slow?" Arcee asked.
"Knock-Out?" Prowl finally asked, joining in on the comm. "It is a shame Bumblebee and Hot Rod are not here yet."
"Just ready to open up all the old wounds, aren't you?" Arcee asked.
"Old wounds-" Jack started to ask.
Suddenly, a pink, two-seater roadster sped around them, weaving for a moment before taking the lead like she was supposed to be there. Jack smirked. "Nice of her to catch up. No traffic where she's from?"'
"Not a lot of good roads, yet. I am afraid," Prowl replied.
"So what's her deal?" Jack wondered.
"You know how there's only one in thirteen femmes among Cybetronians?" Arcee asked.
"Yeah?" Jack asked.
"Well, what happens when you have something everyone wants, but don't have the numbers to protect yourselves?"
"Right," He grimaced. "Sorry."
"She wasn't so lucky before the war, and was a low-caste slave to the Ark's captain. She was his toy. It was a pleasure vessel that catered to many different species, even rich organics." Prowl answered. "Emboldened by Optimus, she killed the captain and took the ship for the Autobots. Nearly destroyed it too, when the former slaves crashed it on Cybertron."
Jack whistled in amazement as he glanced at Elita's trunk and license plate. It spelled out her name in English as if she dared someone to challenge her. The only thing that delayed their leaving for so long was how long it took for her to pick out the alt-form. Jack had never imagined Cybertronians to be so picky. But the detested look she gave Raf for each suggestion was telling. She just did not like being on an organic world. Or at least, not one so primitive. He was almost surprised she wasn't a Decepticon, but Optimus' could be persuasive.
They followed the Autobot leader for a few more minutes in silence as Jack digested the implications of Elita's existence until she leaped into the air, transforming with her blaster's drawn. Arcee and Prowl were forced to swerve to either side around her. Their brakes squealed as they stopped. Jack practically jumped off Arcee's back, his weapon already out.
Prowl transformed, bow ready in his hand as he searched for whatever Elita was seeking. Arcee transformed behind them. They waited. "I sensed something moving," Elita said as a rabbit hopped its way past them on the road.
"That something?" Arcee asked, her blasters rotating away into their holsters.
It was quiet, and Jack could not help but notice just all the little things that were moving and living out in the middle of nowhere. The grass moved in the breeze. Gnats hovered in the air. He began to scan the area around himself, turning slowly. The sun was low on the horizon behind the mountains.
Frowning, he could see the Cybertronian vessel on its long burn through the atmosphere. It looked like a meteorite or a satellite crashing from orbit. The Cybertronian wanted everyone to know they were coming down for a visit.
"We should keep going," Jack said. "Before we get caught by a patrol from that roadblock we bridged past."
"Exactly," Arcee turned, ready to leap and transform. She had enough of playing delusional games with an old one. There was just too much at stake.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw something move. It was a heat signature that burned a bit brighter than human. He levelled his blaster as targeted it. With his free hand, he lifted his visor. "Come out!"
Two humans walked out from behind a large rock. One wore purple, the other wore black. They held their hands up high. "We..." The black one started before their camouflage melted away. "We surrender."
"Rumble and Frenzy?" Prowl asked with skepticism.
OoOoOoOoO
"I know my storage isn't what it used to be," Kup said. "But I'm pretty sure that's Swindle."
"Swindle?" Ratchet asked, surprised.
"Yep, working the old routes again," Kup grimaced with certainty. "I think he used to swing out to this arm of the galaxy when he was an slaver. An' Hot Rod and I passed a ship like that skipping out of orbit of Valeria 2 about two cycles ago," He continued. "When we got down to the planet, they tried to shoot us. Before the lad talked them out of it."
"Ha!" Ratchet laughed.
"You should hear it when he starts up," Kup smirked.
"I'm sure," Ratchet shook his head before turning back to the console.
"Well, when we got them all calmed down, we found out that a bot matching Swindle's description tried to convert them to the Order of Primus."
"What?" Ratchet looked back with shock.
"Then sold them some bad fusion generators," Kup concluded.
"That sounds about right," Ratchet laughed.
"Somehow, we got them working again before they went critical and took out half the planet."
"What the hell?" Raf yelled, looking up from his computer. Alerts were going off that it was being invaded by something...someone. Optimus had told him to expect surprises, but not this.
Kup and Ratchet both turned to look at the boy, optics wide from surprise. Optimus' optics came alive, finally. "Rafael?"
"Something..." Raf' own eyes widened. "Someone just snuck into the network, and into-" His eyes followed the tenuous, invisible connection all the way to Teletraan.
"I know, Raf," Optimus said. "We would only have been able to hold Slipstream for so long until she began picking the locks."
"What?" Ratchet looked up with alarm. He looked down at his console with dismay as the screen began to flash.
"Is she really this...?" Raf looked at his own computer at frowned. "She's better than Soundwave."
"You got that right, kid," Kup said, pulling a fresh cigar out. He lit it before unslinging his plasma rifle. He looked at Prime. "Think she's out?"
"I think she's into the ground bridge controls," Ratchet sighed, standing back.
Raf jumped up, moving to the controls. His fingers danced over the keys. His eyes flicked across the large screen. With a click of a hot key, he'd opened a terminal and was furiously typing, trying to expel the invader from the systems. His mouth became hard set into a deep frown as he ran script after script as they were batted away by the virus that was Slipstream's mind.
"Damn it," he banged his fist onto the metal table. He cursed that his hands could not go as fast as his head. "Pull the hard line to the ground bridge."
Ratchet rushed over, pulling the plug in the middle of its start up sequence. Raf crawled underneath Teletraan, unplugging the computer from its connections to the greater world.
"We've got bots in the field, and Slipstream hacking out systems," Kup shook his head, weapon pointed at the hallway, waiting for the Seeker to come striding out. "Just like old times."
"No Soundwave and his mini's to muck things up," Ratchet reminded him. He looked around. "Where is Optimus?"
Kup looked around the room himself, "I don't know."
"Well," Raf sat back down at his computer, doing a hard boot from frustration to get into his alternate operating system. "Let's plug in and follow Plan B."
"Plan B?" Ratchet asked.
"Optimus asked if I could set up some software no one could access," Raf said before plugging in a USB thumb drive into his laptop.
"Of course," Ratchet shook his head.
"Orion really is good at this stuff," Raf said. Somehow, he understood the duality in Optimus Prime's thinking. "He really planned this out."
"Probably," Ratchet shook his head. More and more, Optimus seemed to be playing a game he just did not understand. We're in Orion Pax's realm now.
OoOoOoOoO
"Slipstream," Optimus Prime called out down the hall. "Release Miko."
"Optimus!" Miko screamed in the shadows.
"Well, Prime," Slipstream said. "I must be losing my touch to have been caught by a mere organic."
"Slipstream," He stepped forward, his red and blue paint shined in the sporadic light from the long, dark hallway. He could begin to see the outline of Slipstream holding Miko loosely. "Let the girl go, and you may leave."
"That easy?"
"You have my word, Slipstream."
"The great Optimus Prime?" Slipstream asked incredulously, stepping into the light. "His word? I've heard how long your word lasts."
"You've not been our enemy for so very long," He said warningly. "Don't do it again."
"Optimus, just shoot her already!" Miko yelled, struggling in the Decepticon's grip.
"I've no wish to kill you."
"Optimus!" Miko protested, starting to kick. "Let me go, you bitch!"
"No, no, no," Slipstream hissed. "You're my -"
The lights around them began to flicker. Energy was being drawn into a space. Optimus took a step back warily. An orb of light coalesced between them as a dark outline stepped in between them. Two, stark, white optics opened up as lightning crackled off the bot. He stepped forward towards Optimus. "So this is what all the fuss is about?"
"Skywarp," Optimus gave him a levelling nod. His energon blade sprang to life, casting a shadow into the hall.
"Sister?" Skywarp glanced back. "Are we taking the pet, or are we leaving it behind?"
"Oh," Slipstream looked down at Miko who stared wide-eyed. "Hmm."
"Leave the girl out of this, and you may go," Optimus said.
"Or," Skywarp stepped even closer to Prime's blade. He grinned. "I could signal Megatron and his minions and we could all make war on this place."
"But you haven't," Optimus stepped forward slowly. "And you won't." he moved in a flash. His blade arced high in the air, before swiping through empty space. He looked down, marveling. Had Skywarp ever even been there, or was it just a trick of his teleportation ability?
He looked down, seeing Miko's mobile telephone on the floor. It was evident that it had been tampered with. With two fingers, he carefully lifted from the floor. He created a USB connection from one of his data cables. He began to scan, following the routes Slipstream had used...Clever, clever data miner...
He just hoped not too clever.
"Optimus?" Rafael asked, running down the hallway. No one could miss the energy surge.
"Is the trace working?" He turned to look at the diminutive computer wizard.
"Yes, it does not look like she noticed it." He stared at Miko's phone as Optimus bent slowly down to give it to him.
"What happened?"
"Something I did not plan," He shook his head.
"We will get her back," Raf said with absolute certainty. "We'll beat them."
"I..." Optimus frowned. "I did not know that Miko and Jack were fighting."
"They were?" Raf's own frown deepened with uncertainty. "This will kill him."
"Get the ground bridge operational and our systems back online," Optimus commanded. "And strength the firewalls."
"Just like we planned," Rafael shook his head, ready to go help Ratchet.