Part Ten
Disclaimers in Part One
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Chromia descended the road into the old quarry. She found Flatline in his root mode with his back to one stone wall, her sisters five yards in front of him, their guns drawn.
Flareup's fields acknowledged Chromia, and the twin said tightly, "Flatline, you have five klicks to make whatever peace you can with Primus."
Flatline spread his major servos. "Gentlefemmes, gentlefemmes, surely we can come to some accommodation here."
"No, we can't. It wouldn't save your life if we could; all we're doing here is saving Optimus Prime some time and aggravation, and maybe a little heartbreak. He doesn't like judicial executions, but we don't like you. Four point seven two klicks. Think hard about your last words. We'll carry them back for you."
Flatline's vocalizer clicked. "You can't expect me to make this easy for you," he said.
Flareup shrugged, her optics twin ice crystals. "We're prepared to be more merciful than you were. But that's the only choice you have left, Flatline. Go easy, or go hard. Four point two three klicks."
He didn't tell them of his decision; he simply attacked. But there were three Sisters and one of them held a very long-standing grudge against this particular Decepticon: Flareup's first strike was at the knee not damaged by Flatline's flight down rough roads. That put more stress on the injured one, and in far less than his remaining four-and-change klicks, Flatline was fighting from his knee joints.
Even so, he remained dangerous. Those four vestigial arms all held or even transformed into surgical implements, which made fine bladed weapons.
And Primus alone knew what they might be coated or filled with; this was Flatline, after all.
The Sisters solved that problem with a little teamwork. Chromia came in swiftly from Flatline's right, grasped and broke one vestigial arm above its first joint, barely avoiding the other, then carried the fight to his upper body. Flareup and Arcee each grasped a left-side lower wrist, and twisted sharply. A crackling noise issued from those small struts, and the servos came off in the Sisters' own.
Panting, streaked with his own energon, Flatline faced the Sisters from his knees. "All right...you win," he said.
Not one of them took the bait. Flatline's mouth twisted. The last vestigial arm, left undamaged, transformed into a hypodermic, which Flatline stuck into his own plating.
"No!" Flareup screamed, and dived for him. But the stuff was too fast-acting even for her. Flatline tried for a smirk of triumph but got no farther than a grimace before falling flat on his faceplates.
Flareup flipped him onto his back and tore open his chest plates.
Arcee put up a preemptive servo when Chromia moved toward Flare. ::What are you doing?:: she sent to her twin, across the gestalt bond. ::Flare, love, what are you doing?::
::I swore I would see his spark gutter, and I will!::
Chromia removed herself to quietly seek out and subspace bits of battle-damaged armor and those damned vestigial servos. Arcee knelt opposite her sister, and, when Flareup's servos shook too badly to accomplish the task, flipped chestplate latches.
Finally, Flatline's spark casing lay open to the sky. Flareup extruded a point-welder from one finger, and ran a lance of energon across the casing. Then she inserted her digits into the still-smoking crack, and pulled it apart.
A small greenish light threw itself onto the wall behind them, lighting the entire quarry, and reached for the stars. Chromia knelt beside Flareup, and put one arm around her shoulders, reaching across Flatline's frame to hold Arcee's servo with the other.
That light dimmed, and dimmed again...lost its hold on the stars...threw itself briefly onto the cliff again, receded to human-head height...gave only a small circle of illumination picking out the Sisters' faceplates...diminished to show Flatline's open chestplates...only his ruined spark casing...
...and then guttered into darkness.
All of Flareup's cables lost their tension, and she sagged against Chromia, weeping.
Arcee took her servo back, and cut the spark casing free. This she laid beside Flareup, and then she dragged Flatline away.
Chromia knew from the sounds she could hear over Flareup's sobs that Arcee was cutting their old enemy into pieces small enough to subspace. Ratchet had given them instructions to preserve Flatline's healing mods, which would be distributed among the apprentice healers once they had been cleansed of every trace of Flatline.
But Chromia said and did nothing beyond enfolding Flareup in her arms and her field...she felt Arcee's presence, and that of their gestalt personality as well. Ironhide was a comforting ghost in the back of her processor.
When Flareup's sobs quieted, she wiped her cheeks, and blinked her optics. Then she gave Chromia a hug, but leaned out of her embrace to pick up the spark casing. She held it in her servo, then gave it to Chromia, who subspaced it.
Flareup smiled, a real smile for the first time in vorn, at her sisters, and stood. "Let's go. We did what we needed to do."
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Once Ratchet had taken care of immediate repairs, the bots took their unconscious prisoners back to the parking lot in Blair, which was to be home away from home until they could arrange transport of the 'Cons back to Mission City.
They could fly Soundwave and Warp back, but Blitzwing was too big for that easy solution. Optimus thought he could haul him on a flatbed, but it would be much better to transport him by rail as close as possible to the base. He had a conversation about that with Charlotte Mearing, who assured him that the government had draped in canvas and transported worse things than Blitzwing.
Lennox remained at the freight company, supervising. The company's employees had no idea what was going on, and were shocked to discover that their employer as well as the company cargo planes were Decepticons—and that their jobs had just disappeared.
Once he confirmed that, beyond being paid by him, they were not involved in Soundwave's activities, Lennox released them to the county sheriff. The computer equipment Soundwave had used was loaded onto an Osprey, to be taken back to Mission City for study.
Other than that, Lennox thought, with a pleased smile, all he had to do was secure the place until Homeland Security arrived to go over it with a fine-toothed comb. As he had promised Amaranth, he would be home with his family tonight.
-Sidhe Chronicles-
"Will you two knock it off!" Ironhide bellowed, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hastily broke off their impromptu low-speed sparring match. "We got cubes to pack up! Get with the program!" the weapons specialist huffed, though in reality, he was not much upset. He imagined he would be doing the same for the Aerialbots shortly, as even though Fireflight was still under Ratchet's servos, the rest of them appeared to be about to burst into antics as well.
Well. That really was the best possible ending to the day for frontliners, Ironhide thought, and turned his back deliberately on some play he would have to yell at when he turned back.
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Diarwen wrapped her sword belt around her scabbard and laid it on the floorboards of Optimus' cab before she climbed wearily inside. Optimus had learned enough of Celtic and Sidhe customs to know that it was an honor to carry another warrior's sword, but here and now he was more concerned with the warrior herself.
The hand around his grab bar was shaking. He wrapped a seatbelt around her and assisted her into his cab. "Diarwen, are you well?"
"I—I—Optimus, my magic has been completely restored. Sam has done the impossible, with my Lady's assistance, of course. I believe that I am fully healed."
"I thought as much, but I hardly dared hope. Sam's control over energy is still very shaky. For a moment I feared that he had done more harm than good."
Diarwen leaned her head back. "No, he saved my life, and Jazz' life as well." Now that the adrenaline rush had settled, Optimus could feel that his Consort was bone weary and a little nauseated.
Soundwave had overwhelmed her own and Jazz' greater skill with sheer power, the ninja told Optimus. So his beloved had been healed in the nick, the very tiniest possible nick, of time; a near thing indeed.
Jazz had shared with Optimus that he, Jazz, had prepared himself to meet Primus, and Optimus thought it very likely that Diarwen had done the same.
We will all die someday, and intellectually we know that. But having the certain knowledge that Death is come for you, now, clarifies a great many things in a very short time. No one who sets a foot into the Far Country and is then snatched back from that border is ever truly the same.
Likewise, Blitzwing had taken on all comers for a long time, as melee combat went. They were fortunate to have taken the madmech without more damage to themselves.
Any of them could have died today, but the only casualty had been Flatline, and his deactivation was not so much "casualty" as "long-delayed, and long-overdue, justice." Everyone else would be going home. The best of all possible outcomes.
There was hope for Blitzwing, and even, in time, for Soundwave. Optimus was content with his decision to keep that one out of sight and out of mind where the humans were concerned.
And Bumblebee and Wheeljack were unlikely to forget that Soundwave would have executed them in Chicago had not Wheelie and Brains broken up the party at the last minute. Putting Soundwave into stasis for a few centuries until tempers had a chance to cool would undoubtedly be best.
He tightened his seatbelt briefly around his Consort, then released it: an alt-form hug. When Ratchet saw her, he demanded that she submit to his ministrations, and she did not protest.
Optimus might have worried about that could he not see her fields: green and glowing, and stronger than they had been since the Battle of Chicago.
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Triad arrived at the abandoned parking lot that served as the advance staging area, and broke apart into the Sisters. Just before they reported to Ratchet, Chromia said to Flareup, "That thing you gave me...you don't want it?"
Flareup locked her optics onto Chromia's, and said, "No, I don't. I gave that sack of slag enough energy over the vorn. I have my life back. I don't need a trophy; that would be making him more important than he was."
Chromia took Flareup's servo into hers, and offered the other to Arcee, who took it as well.
Whole and at peace, the Sisters walked into the roped-off area that Ratchet had set aside for himself, and gave to him all that was left of Flatline.
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Fraggin' Autobots! Fraggin' humans! And now that fraggin' glitch Blitzwing had managed to get himself captured!
Lugnut wasn't sure about leaving his own and Strika's trinemate an Autobot prisoner. But joining him wouldn't do any good. No, the best thing would be to do what Strika said and get home. She would know what to do. She always did. Meanwhile, it served Blitzy right to get locked up.
Alone in a darkening sky, the sunlight behind him, Lugnut put distance and altitude between himself and the ruin of Soundwave's plans. The little blue marble of Earth fell away below him.
His plan was simple. The planet's moon for a while, long enough to generate sufficient energon to fill his tanks. Then New Darkmount, and Strika.
-Sidhe Chronicles-
Shad White heard shouts and oohras from admin, which was not too far down the commons from the teenagers' den. He paused the video he was watching for his history class. Raf scattered pencils as he jumped up from his table as well. "Que pasa?" The smaller boy asked, in one of the rare demonstrations that he thought in Spanish.
"I don't know. Let's go find out."
They saw Barricade hanging around near the back door, waiting for news of the battle, and especially of Flareup. "Barricade, what's going on?"
"Soundwave's crew got their afts kicked," the former 'Con replied. "No casualties but Flatline. They're wrapping things up." He'd learned enough of humans now to know that the boys' sudden relaxation meant that they were relieved.
Shad said, "Our people are all alive? Was anyone injured?"
"Beat up, nothing unexpected though. Somebot's bumper clipped one of the Pretenders and flung him into a wall, but it sounds like he's going to be OK."
The two boys thanked him, and went back to their work. Shad finished his video, and by then it was time for the kids who went to public school to get on the truck. Shad saw them off, then wrote his essay about the video; that took him until lunch. He got a sandwich from the mess, then came back to his computer to eat and look at the news sites.
His dog, Shankie, raised his head and made hopeful puppy-dog eyes at the sandwich until Shad gave him a bite. Shad opened his orange juice and opened the KMOV TV website to see what was going on in St. Louis. There were the usual crime reports and local news common to any large city, but near the bottom of the page he found an interview with someone he recognized, Mordecai Phillips, a young man who had left the Eastgate Church compound several years before.
Leah Nielson had previously told him that she had run into Mordecai at the Salvation Army, and that he was homeless.
The interviewer, a young blonde reporter, introduced the segment as a followup to the Eastgate Church incident, then said, "With us today we have Mordecai Phillips, a former member of the church. Mordecai, you left the church a few years ago. What can you tell us about it?"
"It was pretty, uh, rural. We all had homeschooling, but most of what we learned was how to farm. Then when we hit puberty, we were expected to marry pretty quickly. Reverend Dowling wanted me to marry this girl I didn't like, and I'd been fighting with my parents a lot, so I left. I ended up in foster care here in St. Louis after the cops picked me up and my parents put me up for adoption. My foster family was cool, but that ends when you turn 18. I'm looking for work, I want to get off the street, but there's a lot of other folks out there looking too."
The reporter was pretty and vapid. "So a lot of you left the compound over the years?"
Mordecai shrugged. "Two, three, four a year, I guess."
"Why did they leave?"
"A lot of reasons. Some didn't want to be parents that young, some didn't want to marry the person picked out for them, some started to disagree with that crazy old coot. The ones who realized they were gay had to leave to survive. Me, I just got fed up with those hypocrites and skedaddled. I was lucky to get out when I did, because it wasn't too long before they started shooting people."
The reporter asked, "Where are you living now?"
"Tent on the riverbank."
"You're living in a homeless camp?"
Mordecai looked uncomfortable; the reporter's job of hiding her contempt for the homeless was less good than she thought it was. She was also surprised, because Mordecai was not unkempt, and not dirty. "Hey, I have a tent to live in. And sometimes there's work, you know, mowing yards and washing cars and stuff."
"Is it a hard life, Mordecai?"
"Yeah, in some ways. But I'd still rather live in my tent than back in that squirrel cage. So would all the other people I know who got out of there. I want to know why the law didn't do anything about it a long time before now."
The reporter was photogenic, did not get paid to think, and did get paid to keep people on track. "You mentioned knowing other people in the same situation?"
"Yeah, I keep in touch with several of them. A lot of them live in the same camp as me," Mordecai said. "They're not all living on the streets, though. Some people found jobs, or they're in relationships or whatever. One girl works as a maid to an old couple. One guy was real smart in school and he got a college scholarship."
"What are your plans?"
"Keep lookin' for a job. I mean, if you don't do that, what else are you going to do? I'd like to get a little piece of ground of my own where I could farm. You'd be surprised what you can grow for yourself."
"Thank you, Mordecai, and I hope you find that job."
"Thanks."
"This is Melissa Carrington, reporting for KMOV Channel 4 News."
Shad clicked a link that led to another article about homelessness in St. Louis. Most of it consisted of interviews with people who did not want the homeless in their neighborhoods or near their businesses. But there were some pictures of the camp.
Picture any African refugee settlement, minus the wire fences to keep people in, or out. Shad saw the homeless people he would have expected to, and ten minutes earlier might have characterized as bums—alcoholics and drug addicts who had hit rock bottom; those with mental health issues.
But also there were families with children.
Shad saw someone else he knew, a kid who had left the compound a little over a year ago. Joshua had been only twelve, but after a huge fight with his mother he had run away. Shad didn't think Josh would be fourteen yet. He should be in a foster home, shouldn't he? Maybe he had somehow managed to avoid contact with the authorities.
There was a truck in the pictures, some people who looked like college kids were handing out food and coats. Shad could make out part of the name, "Be The." The rest of it was obscured by a tree and somebody's clothesline.
Shad opened a message box and typed into it, "Hi, Leah, are you online?"
After a moment, she replied, "Hi, Shad! Where were you yesterday afternoon?"
SWhite: My history report was due, so I had to work on it all weekend.
LNielson: How did you do on it?
SWhite: OK, I think. I hope. Now I have to wait for Mr. Harvey to grade them all.
LNielson: You always get good grades in history. I'm sure it will be fine.
SWhite: I hope so. Are you and your mom still looking for a church?
LNielson: I think we may have found one. They're non-denominational, mostly young people. They're really heavy into community outreach. Love your neighbor, judge not lest ye be judged. They don't talk much about sin. We're all sinners, so why point fingers? If you really love the sinner, you don't have to hate the sin. Let go and let God. It's different. Peaceful.
SWhite: That's good. I saw Mordecai on TV a little bit ago. They showed that camp he's living in. & Joshua Dettweiler is there too. How can he not be in a foster home?
LNielson: Our social worker is really busy. I don't think they have enough people to do everything.
SWhite: I saw some people with a truck giving out sandwiches and coats. I could only see part of the truck, but there was a sign that started Be The. Do you know what that is?
LNielson: It's probably Be The Change. They started out as a sorority doing a community service project, but then they really got into it and recruited a bunch of other people. They have a web page, I bookmarked it. I'll email the URL to you.
SWhite: Thanks.
LNielson: How's Shankie?
SWhite: He's doing good. He tried to herd Brains and Wheelie. It was hilarious. I have a video but I'm not allowed to email it. :(
LNielson: The little guys? That must have been really, really funny. We'll come visit you sometime, and I'll get to meet them. I just know I will.
SWhite: I sure hope you can.
LNielson: My break's over, sorry. Talk to you later!
SWhite: See you, Leah.
LNielson: Oh, hey, I'll send you Mordecai's email. You can ask him about Josh. He only checks it every now and then at the library, so you have to wait.
SWhite: Thanks.
Shad got back to work as well. Still, he couldn't get the images from that camp out of his head. If it hadn't been for his uncle, he probably would be living there too. He couldn't imagine what they did to survive in the dead of winter.
After he finished his lessons for the day, he sent a long thank-you letter to James White. Then he emailed Mordecai Phillips. That was harder to write, he wasn't sure what to say.
Dear Mordecai,
I saw you on the news today and Leah gave me your email, so I thought I would write and get in touch. First, I wanted to ask if there is anything you need. I am living in a foster home in Nevada but I still have kin in St. Louis, so if there is anything I will do my best to get it to you. Also, on the same news program I saw that Josh Dettweiler is living in the same place so I was wondering if he is doing OK. He is awful young to be on his own. And I was wondering about the other people who escaped from the church. I am doing OK and I hope you are too.
Your friend,
Shad White
He sent the email, closed his laptop, dropped a letter to his uncle in the outgoing mail, and then decided to see what the other teenagers were doing before supper.
No one wanted to stray too far from Admin; too many of them were waiting for family to return from the raid. Shad wasn't too worried about Ratchet, who was supposed to be in a parking lot several miles from where the fight had happened. Evanon knew that Ironhide and Chromia and her sisters had been in the middle of it, and although he had talked to them both on the phone, he would worry until she and Ironhide were home and he could see with his own two eyes that they were safe. Junior Epps' dad was assigned to the base now, but that was almost as bad, because the elder Epps would act like a bear with a sore head as long as his brothers and sisters went in harm's way without him—and there was the added issue that Junior's little brother didn't handle stress well, and he was getting old enough to understand that something serious was going on and get upset by it. Junior's parents had their hands full with D'andre, so Junior had to take responsibility for his brothers and sisters.
Just as Mikaela Banes had taken responsibility for all of them. Mikaela had come by a beat-up old SUV which she had brought back to base to teach the kids how to fix up. She had the idea to give it to Jack when he turned eighteen so he could use it to haul the younger kids around. They spent the afternoon up to their elbows in grease. Mikaela had the patience to let them make mistakes so they could learn, rather than do the job quicker and easier herself. She even found stuff for the little tag-alongs to do, that kept them busy and away from any dangerous tools that were in use by the older kids up around the engine. Generally, anything that allowed them to make a greasy mess all over their old clothes made them happy. Chip was there too, helping Miko and Raf work on the electrical system.
They quit in time for everyone to get cleaned up before dinner. Nearly everyone gravitated to the Admin building for something to eat, and for news.
About 1730, Jazz announced that the team was due back soon and directed the civilians to wait in Building C, where they would not obstruct the runway or access to Admin or the medbay. Shad walked Shankie first, then went with the others to wait for them to land.
He checked his email on his phone to pass the time, and found that Mordecai had answered his email.
Dear Shad,
Thanks for writing. I'm glad to hear that you're doing good and so am I. There is not really anything that I need because I make enough doing odd jobs to eat pretty good. If you really want to help, though, you could take up a collection and buy a gift card from one of the grocery stores. I could use it to buy food for some of the folks here who don't have very much. Lots of them are worse off than me.
Josh is staying with some older boys. I think he is OK, I talked to him once about turning himself in to get in a foster home but he is afraid he will end up with someone like his mom who would treat him mean. Josh and this old lady everyone calls Granny Josephine take care of each other. She had an apartment but she let her grandson stay with her and he got caught with drugs and he got them kicked out. Their camp is next to Benjie and Rahab, they're having another baby. They help look out for Granny. Elijah and Luke were here but they got a job on a riverboat going back and forth between Chicago and New Orleans. They've been sending some money when they can. I don't know if you're old enough to remember Hepzibah Collins? She's a housemaid for these these two old rich people. If they have a party or something, they send her down here with the leftovers.
Talk to you later,
Mordecai
Shad carefully pecked a reply on the phone's small screen.
Dear Mordecai,
If you have any contact information for anyone else, please send it to me. I will take up a collection for the grocery card and send the money to my uncle. He can buy the card and take you to get the groceries one day he isn't working. I'm sure he won't mind.
Shad
Just as he hit Send, Shad heard a shout, and everyone ran outside.
Silverbolt and the Osprey squadron had just shown up on the base's sensors. Their family and friends were coming home.
End Part Ten