A/N: Here's a longer chapter for ya'll, hope you're all enjoying! Good luck to anyone who has school finals coming up!
Little side note- "Veilleur" means "Watcher", it's also Nightbeat's French-dubbed name. X)
Please Enjoy and Review!
The soothing sound of waves rising and falling along the shore keep me lulled in a warm, numb place, my fuzzy vision fading in and out with the tide. I've never been particularly fond of the beach, maybe it's got something to do with my disdain for the ocean in general. Most bots think the ocean is a vacation spot. I tend to see it as a place where good and bad bots alike are sent to "swim with the electric fishes".
Wait a klik. I'm not at the ocean, I'm not even outside… or at least, last time I checked I wasn't outside. I was on a train… going to Polyhex, with Siren—
Siren!
My intakes pump air into my systems faster as I try to force my optics into focus, everything around me a blur of globed up colors, and suddenly I'm hit by the sickening smell of charred metal and energon fumes. I remember now, the train—we were hit by something, it sent us skyward before there was a hard crash. What caused it?
Decepticons. It must've been a Decepticon terrorist attack, that's how they communicate, through inciting fear and chaos. This doesn't feel right, though, there weren't very many bots on the train, surely the Decepticons would've aimed for a higher body count than this…
Everything abruptly becomes all too clear as I manage to fully online my optics, and I feel as though my entire chassis has cringed tightly inwards. The moment my vision is clear, I find myself lying on what once acted as the ceiling of the passenger boxcar of the train, and outside one of the mangled, shattered windows, I can make out a very familiar form trudging through the wreckage outside.
Primus… this is a lot more personal than a randomized terrorist act. This is Brawl.
Holding my breath to assure that I don't release any unintentional sounds, I slowly lift my helm and push myself up onto my hands and knees, never letting the towering mech only a few paces away from the boxcar out of my sight. He must not have known where I was in the train when it went up, his attention narrowed on another passenger car that looks a lot worse than the one I'm in. I jolt as he tears a thick plate of mangled metal off the other car, feeling my tanks churn as he carelessly pushes aside a few offlined chassis that topple out.
I have to pull my attention away from him to find Siren, as the blue mech isn't in my arms as I last recall having him. It doesn't take me long to find him as I look ahead and see his pale frame limply lying nearby, and I feel my spark burn at his stillness. Doing my best to keep quiet, I crawl across the dented metal ceiling of the overturned boxcar until I reach my partner, my hand reaching out and touching his shoulder. Giving him a light shake, my optics flare as he suddenly releases a startled gasp, and I clamp my hand over his mouth, optics turning to look in the direction of Brawl.
Thankfully, the lumbering 'Con was in the process of stomping out the siding of another train section, masking Siren's sound. I release a momentarily relieved huff of air before looking down into Siren's scared optics of scarlet. Slowly, I remove my hand from his mouth, putting my index finger over my own to gesture him to remain silent. After he nods in understanding, I carefully help him sit up, my hands lightly traveling over his frame to check him for any severe wounds.
This kid is just as weird as I am; he can get fraggin' blown up and walk out with only a few cuts and dents. Good.
I keep my voice to a low whisper as I speak to him, "You alright?"
A little nod accompanied by glazed optics and a light sniff answers my question; he's scared as Pit, but he's okay. Looking around the wrecked boxcar, it would seem that Siren and I are the only two that made it… those sick slaggers. They'll pay for this. Taking Siren's shoulder, I turn and begin slowly crawling towards a busted out window on the side of the car facing away from Brawl. Surely we're out in the middle of nowhere between Iacon and Polyhex, and it's gonna be tricky getting away from the wreck without Brawl noticing us. Hopefully he'll remain occupied with digging through the scrapheap looking for our remains and won't think to look up.
"Be careful of the glass, Si…" I carefully balance my hands over sheets of shattered glass as I begin to make my way out the open window until a loud scream rings through my audios, "Siren—"
"Nightbeat!" The younger mech kicks his peds as he's seized by his back armor and lifted up through a hole on the topside of the boxcar, turning my tanks cold.
Reacting on instinct, I release a distressed curse and grab onto my friend's legs, trying to pull him back down before I'm pulled up to outside surface of the car as well. We both grunt as we're dropped onto the topside of the overturned boxcar, optics turning up to look to our captor, "B-Barricade!"
Said Gladiator smirks sharply as his optics narrow in on his prey, "You remembered my name, kid. I guess I must've left quite an impression on ya." With that, he reaches down to again seize us before all three of us are suddenly sent flying as a tank shell smacks into the side of the boxcar. We're granted a somewhat soft landing as we splash into the thick, oil and energon soaked mud on the other side of the derailed train, and already I can hear Barricade's furious growls filling the air.
Not taking the time to figure out where those throaty sounds are coming from, I take Siren by the arm and pull him up out of the muck, rushing him into another boxcar to take shelter from the Kaonian killers.
"Have you blown a fuse? You nearly just blew my fraggin' diodes off!" Barricade angrily spits at his partner, "I had them!"
"He's sneaky, you were giving him too much time to think! Ya gotta kill 'im fast!" Brawl's already transforming and charging towards the part of the train that we've retreated to, ignoring his partner's condition and slamming his heavy shoulder into the side of the boxcar.
Siren releases a startled yelp as the car is nearly turned onto its side by the brutal strike, "Nightbeat, what're we gonna do? They're gonna kill us! There's no bot around for miles!"
"I'm thinking, Siren, just—just lemme think, and follow me!" My processor is grinding its disks as fast as it can as I try to formulate a plan of escape while leading my younger friend from one boxcar to the next, keeping in mind how close the shouts and blasts from the other mechs are.
Wait, it's just me they're after, not Siren. His only risk is staying with me. I crouch and turn to face him, pulling him down to crouch with me, "Siren, I want you to hide, okay? It's me they're lookin' for, not you—"
"Nighbeat, no—" he's interrupted as I put my hand over his mouth.
"Do as I say, Siren. Remember what you promised me? Only, I'm tellin' ya to hide instead of run. Stay low, stay quiet, and I'll draw them away and figure something out, okay? If they get me, then wait until they're gone before you head back towards Iacon, got it?"
All I receive in response are a few squeaky whines as Siren tries to speak through my hand, his optics shimmering with coolant. I remove my hand and hold the sides of his helm, holding a gaze with him before turning and giving a final word, "Hide."
I'm relieved as I can hear his legs scuffing along the floor of the boxcar before he disappears from sight obediently, giving me more freedom in whatever it is I'm gonna do to get rid of these 'Cons. I can hear the two arguing venomously outside the train, probably the only reason why they haven't already caught me. I take advantage of my given time to the fullest as I run through the connected train components until finally, I'm forced to abandon my shelter and climb outside into the open. Looking around, I'm deeply unsettled when I find I can't see either of the mechs hunting me down.
I'm not quite as worried about being snuck up on by Brawl, that mech couldn't sneak up on Omega Supreme. It's Barricade I'm more worried about at this point. Silence is never a good thing when he's around, it's like shadows for him to hide in. A sudden, hard knot of fear unexpectedly rises in me, and I can't stop myself as I break out into a dead sprint, running alongside the twisted wreckage towards the front end of the train. I've got a crazy idea, and it involves possibly the only thing that could give me an upper hand over two powerful, grown mechs; here's to hoping that one thing is still intact.
My plotting is cut short as the mech that incited my frenzied running suddenly drops down in front of me, causing me to slip and fall back into the oil-slicked mud with a yelp. I'm struck frozen as I look up at the evil, electric yellow optics that are weighing down on me. His dark tone sends cringing shivers up my spinal strut as he speaks, "I'll never know how it is that an afterthought like you ever got to be such a hard thorn in my side." As if to more firmly express his feelings, he brandishes his glowing energon sword with a flick of his arm.
Frag this, I'm not gonna just sit here and let him cut me! I take a risk as I wait for him to get closer, knowing he's just as hooked on the game as Brawl, knowing he'll want to get close and personal before extracting his revenge. As predicted, he kneels in front of where I'm flatly planted on my aft plates and leans in, spewing out some more foreboding words, "I told Brawl I'd let him have your kill, but that doesn't mean I can't warm things up."
Figuring that's his cue to start slicing and/or dicing me, I wait no longer as I grab the biggest handful of chemical-tainted mud I can before slapping it straight into the mech's face. His initial, sharply released shout tells me that the "chemical-tainted" part is definitely doing wonders for his open optics, and his cursing lets me in on just a fraction of his rage. I don't waste time as I avoid his blindly grabbing hands and lay flat before rolling under a scrapped hunk of train and begin crawling through the moderate-viscosity slop. As expected, Barricade's enraged shouts draw his heavier-set partner over, the tank-former's stomping peds sending ripples through the puddles of liquid gathered in the mud.
"You lost him again! What were you doing, talking to him? Just jump 'im and stab 'im the next time you see him!" Brawl's barking orders come to a bit of a surprise, as most bots don't get away with talking to Barricade like that. It just goes to show how badly this mech wants my head on a stake.
Barricade seems to understand this, but returns the angry retorts anyways, "You don't seem to be making a lotta progress yourself, so cut yer vocalizer! He crawled under there!"
Nothing good can come of this. I shimmy faster beneath the train, grimacing as I'm completely covered ped to helm in the nasty, hazardous sludge; at least my visor is protecting my optics from the same fate Barricade's underwent. My arms quickly begin to grow tired as the combination of the mud's suction and thickening layers building up on my armor begins to weigh me down. However, the weight of the mud caked onto me doesn't hold the smallest of flames to the weight that abruptly begins pushing down on me from above. The ring of manic cackling cues me in to exactly what's happening overhead—Brawl's starting to jump on the boxcar that I'm currently wedged under.
I allow panic to pump adrenaline into my systems, lending more strength to my flimsy arms as I dig my hands into the mud and drag myself across it, looking ahead and seeing the generic light at the end of the tunnel; or, in this case, the front end of the boxcar. I'm just about to pull myself out from under the massive weight before yelping in alarm as my legs are pinned beneath the collapsing structure. Big mistake; the moment the sound leaves me, I hear an insane burst of laughter from atop the boxcar in return. Sure enough, the towering form of Brawl comes nonchalantly wandering towards the edge of the roof, ugly optic gazing down at me with pure glee.
Turning my optics away from the mech to look ahead, I can see that my target is only a few ped steps away; the engine, the lead locomotive vehicle of the train. Also the place where the most power is packed. I clench my teeth as I pull with all my strength to free myself from beneath the car, the slick mud saving my legs from being crushed and rather sinking them beneath the weight. By some profound miracle, I'm able to free myself, and I all but throw myself forward into the cabin of the lead engine.
"Hn hn, he thinks he's gonna drive away, Barricade. That thing's scrapped, kid, ya can't drive a train on its side, 'specially without a track t' guide ya!" His merry tone continues into his laugh as he drops from the boxcar and begins to climb into the cab. "Barricade, c'mere, he's hiding."
"Only so many places he could hide in this fraggin' tight place…" Barricade grunts in frustration as he pushes Brawl a bit to make room for himself as he, too, steps into the engine control cabin. I remain hidden beneath the main control panel as I watch them get into position, fully situated in the small cabin space. I reach up and quickly hit a command key on the panel, drawing the mechs' attention to the cabin door as it slides shut and locks behind them.
"What the frag? Is he locking us in here with—" Barricade doesn't finish his sentence as he looks forward again to see me climbing out the broken windshield of the engine cab, his optics widening when he sees a countdown glowing on the main console, "Fraggit, Brawl!"
"Hurm?" The idiotic sound leaving Brawl is the last thing I hear from the cabin before I leap off the locomotive and land on the ground to the side. I turn my helm to watch just as the countdown in the cabin completes with a satisfying 'ding' before the powerful engine of the unattached train component begins pumping before the propulsion units flare into life. I can hear the two mechs locked inside beginning to argue and panic just before the turbines ignite, sending the locomotive blasting across the desert landscape, nearly blowing me across the ground as mud sprays into the air in the wake of the powerful machine.
Sayonara, jerks.
I cough up a few specks of mud before pushing myself up onto my peds, watching as the charging engine cab continues on towards the morning sunrise, wondering what they'll crash into first. Just as I'm about to turn around, a pair of skinny arms suddenly lace around me from behind, relieving my worries of where my small partner could be.
"You okay, kid?" I shift in the arms and pat the pale grey helm belonging to Siren, looking down at his scrunched up faceplates.
"Y-Yeah, I'm okay…" With a huff, he releases his hold on me and rubs his optics. He stares in the direction of the runaway locomotive for a moment before looking up at me with a deadpan stare, "Do we still hafta go to school today?"
I nearly lose my footing.
"What do you mean they can't find him?" Prowl's optics flare as he looks to Red Alert, his door panels stiffly set on his back.
"All the other passengers have been accounted for, only five of them are alive, but in critical condition… However, we've not been able to locate the bodies of the two younglings."
Prowl sharply turns his helm towards the wreckage of the derailed train, refusing to take in the news, "No, they should have been in the passenger car like the others, it took on the least damage, and there are no signs of any bodies being projected out…" He then pauses. "Unless they… walked out…"
"Sir?" Red Alert squints his optics lightly, "The chances of anybot being able to walk away from this are—"
Prowl raises a hand to silence the subordinate, "I know what the probabilities are, Red Alert. I'm the last bot you need to remind." His tone is cutting and raspy, exposing his anxiety over the situation. Not this. Not again. He lost Roulette the same way; never knowing what happened to her, her body never being found, no traces of where it could be left behind. He can't lose Nightbeat the same way.
"Sir—?" Red Alert's requests are ignored as the white-armored Praxian trudges through the tainted mud towards the rubble to further investigate.
Kneeling, Prowl looks up into the overturned passenger cab, optics slowly coming to rest on the very seat that Nightbeat had been sitting in when he had departed from the train station earlier that day. His optics dim as he looks over the stains of energon and twisted, melted shreds of metal surrounding the seat.
"Primus… please…"
By the time Siren and I reach a large hangar on the outskirts of Polyhex, our energon reserves are nearly spent, our processors barely functional as we sway and lean on one another. Time to show Siren what I meant by having an asset in this city. Reaching up, I use my last bit of strength to knock on the heavy-duty blaster door of the laboratory that's conjoined to the hangar.
"In a klik, be right there!" A voice sounds from the other side of the door, followed by a few crashes and grunts before finally the door is unlocked and slides open. A bright set of optics look down at our sorry mess, and a set of blue fin-like components on the mech's helm flash in-sync with his words, "Scrap, you two look like ya been through Unicron's digestive laser tract."
I give the mech the ugliest, most exhausted frown I can muster up in reply, the dried mud on my face and chassis adding a nice touch. He gets the message. Stepping aside and gesturing us to enter with a sweep of his arm, he offers what I assume is a sheepish grin behind his face shield, "I'm just yankin' yer motor belts, guys, c'mon in! The frag happened to you, anyways?"
"Thanks, Jack. We, uh, had a rough train ride from Iacon. Oh, Siren, this is Wheeljack. Wheeljack, Siren." My voice lacks enthusiasm as I drag my peds and walk over to a worn-in couch in the makeshift living section of the lab; I don't know if Jackie even has a real set of living quarters outside of his lab, he hardly ever leaves the place. I release a vent of air as I collapse onto the couch, watching as Siren and Wheeljack shake hands.
"Nice t' meet ya, kid. Any friend of Beatie's is a friend a' mine! Hey, how 'bout somethin' to drink for you two?"
"That'd be great, I'm so thirsty!" Both me and Jack jolt out of our plating at Siren's hearty reply.
Wheeljack's flashing helm fins flicker and fritz for a moment before he squints an optic and looks my way, "Er, uh, is your friend legally deaf by any chance?"
"He's got family up in the Sonic Canyons, 'spent a few too many vacations visiting them." I grow a lazy smirk as Wheeljack and Siren give each other curious looks before the older turns to get us some energon cubes.
I watch Siren with dimming optics as he approaches and sits on the edge of the couch, nudging me a bit so I give him some space to sit back. Sighing, he offlines his optics for a moment before looking to me, "How do you know Wheeljack? He's old…"
I chuckle as I hear Wheeljack give a few grunted retorts to overhearing Siren's observation from the other room and reply, "He's not that old, Siren," my smile grows as Wheeljack gives an indignant huff, apparently not finding my response very satisfactory, "I came to Polyhex one time to meet him, after reading about his developments in space travel technology… I was intrigued by his work, and we've been buds ever since."
Siren stares at me for a moment, clearly not buying fully into my partial story. "So what makes him an 'asset'? Wait…" His optics brighten as he draws a conclusion, "Nightbeat… Does he have… a space ship?"
Wheeljack pauses as he comes back into the room with a tray of energon cubes, looking to me curiously, wondering if I'm gonna lay it all out for the younger bot. I sit up and look to Siren, "No, he doesn't..." The look of disappointment in Siren's optics is a bit surprising; I thought surely he would be relieved that the dangers of space travel were out of the question. So, I continue, "But I do."
He turns his helm to me, a look of shock on his faceplates, "You… have a ship?"
"I do. It's called the Veilleur."
