Energy and Motion
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers
Ativii, Ricochet, and Terratruss Prime belong to me.
(4-8-13) 8,257 words! 10th Chapter with 35 plus reviews at the near One Month point! Thanks a TON guys! Enjoy the story!
Story: now rated T for just movie violence.
Chapter 10: Game Plan
Soundwave reviewed the comm. link from Scrap Case with the emotion of a rock. After deeming the report worthy for their War Lord, he comprised a status report. The Communications Officer sent the comm. link in his deep, monotone, growling voice. :Lord Megatron. Updated Status Report.:
Megatron sneered over the line and demanded it to be quick. :What is it Soundwave?:
:Intel received from Decepticon Scrap Case indicated the lone Autobot at these coordinates had a colleague. Terrorjack's assassin group failed to eradicate them and they offlined within thirty kliks after landfall. Terrorjack had a 97.5% to successfully achieve his mission, my Lord.: Soundwave reported steadily in his drone voice. Megatron's silence over the line was partly concerning to the emotionless mech.
:Soundwave, was Terrorjack's band able to retrieve an image of the Autobots who offlined them?: asked the War Lord. Megatron's deep, rough –almost animal like voice- sounded as though he was in deep thought and strategizing over the electronic airways of the comm. link.
:Yes, my liege.: Soundwave attached the image file Scrap Case snapped before his demise. It was a blurry snapshot and rows of statistics were bordering the image in modern Cybertronian. A small green Autobot, who possibly were a femme, zoomed around on one wheel while a large black and orange mech were firing from on a ledge above the battle, a sniper. The communications officer forwarded it to his Leader.
Megatron growled over the line in discontent. :Keep tabs on them Soundwave. My Master does not want more Autobot back up in the battle that will soon commence. But if those pathetic younglings show their ugly mugs, have our forces offline them… immediately.:
:Yes, Lord Megatron.:
:Prepare the Space Legion, Soundwave. Things are about to get messy for this pitiful organic world.: Megatron closed the line with a menacing cackle. Soundwave did as ordered and continued on preparing the troops while watching for the boy over the human airways.
"Ya took quite a beatin' with those 'Cons, 'Tiv. It ain't dangerous, but it'll be uncomf'rtable fer ah while." Jazz stood up from his crouched position, he had finished examining the two bot's damage after their battle with the three Decepticons. Ativii would be fine, she only had a few cracked back panels and some strained hydraulics, but it wouldn't kill the tough femme. It'd only be sore until her self-repair systems took over the repairs.
Ricochet clicked back on the armor he had removed from his forearm struts. He finished adjusting a few switches for the magnetic plates in his palms. Some flecks of Sawsand's armor were still sticking in between the seams in his palm and he was trying to get the polarized slivers out. "Jazz, what class of warriors were those Decepticons?"
Jazz stood still as he sorted through the memory files he was able to retrieve of the mechs the two bot's fought. The Sixth Prime walked ghostly from his post at the outer edges of the pillar cavern of the Infinite. The shadows seemed to wrap around his armor and a deep anger laid hidden in his amber optics. His shaft was transformed into his warrior spear; the Prime was anticipating something, which was for sure.
"For your first fight, it was impressive," Jazz started. He turned around to look at the weary bots in the creamy light of the Infinite White. His visor retracted and he started to move his servos as he described what he could remember. Whatever Jazz was about to say, it was astonishing because the 'cool groove' accent was gone. "The big bot that was offlined last was a Missile-Overload Decepticon. They have thick armor and pinpoint accurate targeting systems. They're extremely tough to eliminate for bot's with your experience."
Jazz slowly started to pace back and forth as he dug deeper into his serious explanation. "The tan and scarred mech that Ric' was grappling with… his type is extremely tough. Their four limb advantage gives them a higher killing record than most skilled assassins. His Grappler frame makes up for that. I've seen my Spec Ops mechs crumble under their assaults."
Ricochet snorted, "That's for sure. I almost had my aft handed to me on a silver platter. He was stubborn and trained just like General Grievous and talked too much like a big time gloater." Ricochet placed a servo on his mandible, thinking. "His aim seemed off during the fight, if I hadn't thought of ripping off his shoulder guards like that…I would have been offlined."
"What's ah 'General Grievous'?" asked Jazz, as they got off topic.
Ativii waved a servo in the air, trying to dismiss it. "He's a fictional character from the franchise Star Wars the humans have thought of. A Jedi wannabe slash cyborg. But Jazz what about the first Decepticon that I deactivated?"
Jazz reverted back to his serious stance. "His designation was Terrorjack. He's just your standard Decepticon Warrior that's packed with ammunition, but his processor his hardwired to be a perfect assassin strategist."
"You sound as though you knew him in person," said Ricochet. He turned his helm to watch Jazz's pacing halt for a second.
"Terrorjack was a part of a sub-elite group of Assassin Bands under the Decepticon Forces. They're ruthless and always get the job done… regardless if it's right." Jazz stopped and growled, his engine revving harshly. "What I don't understand is how you were able to take all three of them out? I've clashed with those slaggers a few times and a good handful of my mechs were offlined."
"Jazz, calm yourself," ordered the Prime as he stepped out of the shadows. "We have trained Ativii and Ricochet well. Even better than what the standard Autobot training masters could have done from your time." The Prime touched a Cyberglyph on the pillar next to him and it started to glow a milky blue. Swiftly, as if catching a virus, all the Cyberglphys near the group started to glow and hum with the same milky blue color. Ricochet's sensors staggered a bit at the sudden energy flux. "Our trainees were able to become victorious partly because of the Infinite. These glyphs aren't inscribed on the wall for decoration. This place has a natural defense mechanism that disrupts an intruder's systems the further they try."
"So in other words… the further they get in the Ravine, they more messed up and overcharged they get?" asked Ativii as she processed the mystery.
"That is correct."
"Well… ah short story short, ya kicked butt out there bots." Jazz walked back towards them and his visors clicked down as he snapped into optimistic Jazz mode. "Ah say it's time, Sixty."
Ricochet looked confused. "Time for what?" he asked as his optics shifted between both of their trainers, colleagues, and friends.
The Prime walked forward. His tall, dead yellow armor twisted and bent over his frame as he stood in front of Ativii and Ricochet. The links on his headdress clicked as a dim yellow light filled the slips between his armor plating. "Ricochet… Ativii… it is time that you join the Autobots."
Ricochet looked shocked as Ativii sunk on her axles. "Really?" asked Ricochet.
"You two are ready. The last battle proves this. With my last descendant dead for the time being, the Autobots could use all the help they need." The Prime looked at the two bots and a deep echoing power seemed to fill the cavern and intertwine with their sparks.
"Ricochet, Ativii, do you solemnly swear to protect the weak, defend the freedom for all sentiment beings, and fight to bring peace to Cybertronians and all worlds they make contact with? Even if it means you become one with the Matrix?" the Prime paused to surveyed their faceplates and optics. "If so, step forward and voice your agreement and gain your badge of honor to join the Autobot ranks."
Ativii rolled forward and she stood tall and straight in front of the Prime. "I, Ativii, solemnly swear to be an Autobot. And I look forward to serving under my officers and Prime."
Ricochet stepped up to his friend's side and voiced his agreement also. "I, Ricochet, also solemnly swear to be an Autobot. I will serve under my Prime 'till I am one with the Matrix and Primus."
The Prime smiled at them, and he rested his wide servos on their shoulder guards. "Your sparks are true, young ones. You have my blessing as you tread these paths before you. You have proven to be resourceful, and your contribution to the cause is unforgettable."
The ancient Prime removed his servos as two gleaming silver Autobot badges were stamped into their armor. The badges followed with a Langue of Primes Cyberglyph below them, proof of his blessing.
Ativii beamed and Ricochet looked proud as they gazed up at the Prime's yellow optics. Jazz waltzed up to them and he clapped the on the back struts. "It's official bots. Yer Autobots! Tha badge proves it!"
The green femme chuckled as they enjoyed the roaring appreciation in their sparks. She quickly sobered up as she asked a question that had bugged her for some time. "Primus said he would be watching out for us. Saying we would never be alone… so is this our last time we will be seeing you?"
The Prime looked at Ativii sincerely, "No," then he shook his helm softly. "But we can't always be with you the entire time. You must grow on your own."
"An'! Ya can't get rid of meh tha easily!" Jazz piped up from behind the ancient mech.
Ricochet looked at their friends, his optic ridge furrowed as a question that was nagging on him also surfaced. "What if we have another… um revelation? Like a snippet from our path lives surfaces? Before the battle, a brief glimpse of a mech listening in on our conservations through satellite surfaced and I just knew it was the Decepticon who sent those assassins here. I'd never seen him since my activation, so he must be from our past… human lives."
"Try ta hide it from tha 'Cons. They'll wanna know any home-field or any advantage they can get on tha Autobots," shrugged Jazz like the problem seemed simple.
The Prime fingered the metallic links on his chin with a digit. "Primus might be sharing these glimpses from your past life. Try to use them to your advantage Ricochet, there's always a reason to why you're seeing them. But, as Jazz said, keep them away from spying Decepticons. It could prove disastrous, especially for you if they found out."
"Them 'Cons are known fer their torture ta get information," grumbled Jazz darkly. "Ah'll give ya a few anti-hacking an' fire wall protect'n protocols. Just in cause if yer hacked."
"Another question?" asked Ativii. "Optimus, when his is reactivated, he'll want to know our backgrounds. What do we tell them?"
Jazz sat back on a boulder quickly, thinking heavily. He hummed to himself slightly as everyone thought over the subject. After a few minutes of mulling, Jazz snapped his clawed digits together.
"Ah got it!" he said, and everyone turned their attention to him. "Ya say ya crash-landed in this desert a few years ago or somethin'. Yer self-repair systems couldn't repair yer comm. links fast enough to contact and ya've been stuck here. Well not actu'lly here, the Infintite, Ah mean. But tha mountains!"
"And?" asked Ricochet a little impatiently.
"Ya can't remember anythin' because tha crash scrambled most of yer memory files. Ah've he'rd of conditi'ns like thwat bef're…Ah can give ya a few gigabytes of infermation ta make yer story more believable. Ratch will fall fer it, it's fool-proof!"
"Until we become suspicious and they do a processor scan," the green femme muttered. They Autobots could easily categorize them as traitors or turn-coats since none of them had any real connections.
"Jazz is right. It is 'fool proof.' Your human memories aren't locked in your processor, to what I know, but more in your spark. When the CMO scans your CPU, your story will be believable because the files aren't there. I believe the human term is: amnesia." Ricochet hummed in agreement with the Prime.
"It could work," he said.
"So do we leave now?" asked Ativii quietly as silence continued on.
Jazz nodded grimly. The Prime looked at the silver saboteur and an unseen message flew between them. The small mech turned and jogged into the shadows to retrieve something. Ativii looked down the passageway curiously. She turned to the black and orange mech and he shrugged.
"Jazz is retrieving your Cybertanium swords, we sharpened the blades and inscribed them with some of your favorite Cyberglyphs from the Infinite," the Prime spoke up.
"Thanks Sixthy, that's very thoughtful of you," said Ativii thankfully.
The small mech returned with three swords clipped on his back panels. Jazz slid in on his heel and he did a flashy twirl. "We've taught ya all we know, and yer ready bots." He smiled and unclipped Ricochet's blade and held it out to him.
Ricochet accepted it and his processor detected the new coding embedded in the weapon. The magmech's battle computer synced and his right bracer cracked open. Ricochet slid the sword home and it shifted into his bracer and became one with his systems as the weapon was subspaced.
Cybertanium Sword accepted.
Magnetic alloys accepted.
Transformation Bracer sequenced accepted and sword subspaced.
"Thank you," Ricochet said in Cybertronian. "Your dedication and belief in us is most appreciated."
Ativii accepted her prized short swords happily. She had reluctantly given them up and was happy to have them back again. Her sheaths in her back struts opened and she slid the twin blades home.
Cybertanium twin blades synced with Conversion Shaft.
Energon frequency edge enabled.
"I can have a frequency edge now?" asked Ativii joyfully as she read over the message in her HUD.
"Sure. Why not?" said Jazz with a playful shrug and a roll of his hidden optics.
Ativii grasped the blades to her chassis and squealed in delight. "Oh Jazz! I can't wait to test these out! Frequency Blades, oh my!"
Ativii calmed down. "I know you, Sixth Prime, are going to stay here. But Jazz… are you going to come with us?" Ativii looked at her good friend expectantly.
Jazz smiled sadly at the two once-human-now-bots. They've changed so much and they were like longtime friends to him. He knew they would have been great friends if fate allowed them to meet sooner. He just wished he could actually meet them in person with his actually frame. Not some freaky avatar with ghost feelings and not an actually spark.
He retracted his visor to show his deep blue optics. The happy mech replied in his deep voice with a calm reassurance. "That's not up ta meh. Ah honestly don't know whatza gonna happ'n ta meh. Yer my comrades now, meh friendz, and Ah'll follow ya where eva Ah can. Yer got ta go on yer own now, but ya'll neva be alone. Ah'll help ya all Ah can, 'cause there's one thing fer sure. Ya can't get rid of tha Jazzman thwat easily."
"Thanks Jazz," she replied in English and then switched to Cybertronian. "That means a lot coming from you. You were always my favorite mech." She wheeled forward and took his clawed servo in her small hand. She looked up at him and finished. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
Jazz's spark warmed at that thought, she spoke so beautifully in Cybertronian. "Thanks 'Tiv." Ativii released his servo and rolled back into her place in the small circle that had formed. "Oh and Ms. ATV, if anyone ever asks about meh, tell them Ah'm…Ah'm at peace. It isn't half bad in tha half-life, nothin's permanent and Sixty isn't thwat big ov pain the aft."
The Prime rolled his optics and muttered something under his breath. It appeared to be an explicit to get rid of him…some way.
The group walked down the Ravine, heading towards the exit of the Infinite. Jazz and Ricochet talked together happily, discussing fond memories they had in this mountain. Ativii rolled besides the Prime and they didn't converse about anything, she just relished in his calm and wise presence.
When the wall of white light came into view they paused in their travels to say their last good byes.
"Young ones, whatever happens, is meant to happen. Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing, so always be prepared." The Prime kneeled down so he was closer to all the Autobots height. His frame bent with an elasticity that went against how metal beings should bend. "You'll make great Autobots, and you've always have had the want to be one. Know this if, you are lost and confused, know that it can only get better."
The Prime stood and stepped back from the two new recruits. Jazz waved a servo at them and finished, "Go luck shwarties, you're gunna need it." Then with a flash of light and a current of energy, they were gone.
Ativii shuttered her optics owlishly. They were just gone. Like a flash of lightning… just gone.
The femme turned to look up at her friend, the only real person she'd ever known since her activation. She stared owlishly again at the new glyphs that had suddenly appeared on his armor and face guards after Jazz's disappearance. Ricochet vented harshly and his engine sputtered slightly. "Come on Ativii." Then he led the way out of the Infinite White, and into the real world.
The mountains of Petra rose into the sky as the noon sun began to hit its zenith. Heat waves rolled off the dune tops and the mountain peaks shimmered in the bright, cloudless afternoon sky.
"We're on our own now, aren't we Ric'?"
Ricochet sighed through his vents, and he nodded grimly. They had known Jazz and Sixth Prime for two years; it was quick in a bot's perspective. But without having any other contact with other beings, it felt like a life time.
"Yes, Ativii. We are," he practically whispered.
The magmech shifted down into his Jeep alternate and his engine roared to life. Ativii quickly followed his lead and the CBR 1000 bounced on her tires.
"We need a game plan. The Fallen's free, since Optimus is dead. So that should mean this Witwicky boy will be here soon with Jetfire and his other human friends," the jeep commented. He started to drive over the dunes. The desert landscape and surrounding mountains created a secluded valley that had harbored the Infinite for who knows how long.
"How do you know that?" asked Ativii as she soared next to him.
"I just do."
Sam came running into the main hanger of the Smithsonian Space and Air Museum. His black leather jacket flapped behind him as he quickly met up with Mikaela near the metal box that housed the Decepticon minicon Wheelie. Simmons's was sprinting in from the other direction and he ripped off the white pilot's scarf and dropped it to the floor. Leo was no was nowhere in sight.
"We just downed five guards. Five guards!" he exclaimed. Mikaela slid on the floor and dropped her metal box while Sam started to open the square-shaped duffel bag Simmons's had given them while Leo and him took out the guards.
The former S7 agent dropped to his knees and tried to rip the bag away from Sam. "Get your stuff and get out of here!" he ordered.
Sam retaliated and continued looked for the All Spark splinter. "Just give me a second here," he nearly growled.
"I got to get the tracker, all right?" Simmons's asked as they both rummaged through the bag. Mikaela opened her metal case and released Wheelie.
She stood up and pointed a finger at the small RC truck. "Be good," she ground harshly.
Wheelie climbed out of the box and cried with a high voice, "Woo! I'm claustrophobic!" then the Decepticon vented harshly as he stretched his cramped limbs.
Sam found what he was looking for and held the metal vile with the All Spark splinter in front of him. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and pulled it out dramatically, like it was going to bite him. Or zap his brain again.
Simmons's grasped his 'tracker' from the duffel bag. It was a white, flat and squared shaped device with a handle and a screen to read whatever readings it could detect. He pressed a button on the side and four prongs sprung out on the top and he gasped with excitement. "Awe,"
Mikaela and Sam ran together down the designated walkways between the huge aircrafts. The planes were from many eras, some with single props, other multiple propellers or jet engines. Their shiny armor gleamed in the white artificial light as smaller brightly colored fighter planes from numerous countries flew around on suspended wires. Wheelie, in his RC blue monster truck form roamed in between their feet. Simmons held his tracker in front of him and ran all over the place dramatically, like a kid trying to keep a balloon afloat, as the device beeped softly. He even slipped on the tile floors a few times as they searched for the Seeker's signal.
The two teens stopped beneath the silver Enola Gay as Mikaela watched the RC truck zoom of to the jet section of the huge blimp hangar. Mikaela grabbed Sam's arm and pointed him in the direction of the small Decepticon. "Look, look! Follow him. Follow him! He knows where he's going."
Wheelie swerved over the slick tile as he led the group of human's to the Seeker signal he was picking up. "He knows something!" shouted Mikaela as they ran the length of a huge black jet plane.
"What?" questioned Sam, still holding the All Spark shard in front of him with the pair of tweezers.
"He knows something!" shouted Mikaela again as they ran to get to the nose of the Jet. Simmons was just on the other side, the tracker pointed at the body of the black aircraft.
The group of humans and the one RC truck slid to the stop in front of the huge, outdated military craft. "You got what I got?" questioned Simmons as he pointed the tracker at the jet, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Yeah," Sam said as he glanced at the plaque mounted on the railing surrounding the aircraft.
"Blackbird," breathed Simmons as he read the plaque too.
Wheelie shifted out of his RC form. His metallic alloys clicked together and the minicon stepped forward, a shot of flame exiting the exhausted pipe on his butt. "There he is," Wheelie said as he turned to the humans. The 'con grinned with his sparsely platted face and his broken optic dangled form it's casing. "This guy's a legend, he's like… like the chairman of the board!"
Sam ducked under the railing to slide beneath the Blackbird, the All Spark shard still clamped between the tweezers. "Yo, freshman, point the shard and watch the magic happen."
The dark-haired teen nodded and he slowly pointed the shard at the Blackbird. A magnetic force ripped the shard away from the tweezers and Sam jerked back in surprise. A blue ripple of energy flowed over the jet when the shard made contact. Everyone took a step back in surprise, waiting for something to happen.
Wheelie reverted back into his RC form and the two teens ran forward to look at the Blackbirds badge right in front of his first landing wheel. Mikael gasped when she saw the badge and she staggered back as the Blackbird started to shift and rock.
"It's a DECEPTICON!" she shouted.
Simmons stepped back, "A Decepticon?" he stressed.
Leo, who had suddenly appeared, echoed the question, "A Decepticon?"
The former S7 agent looked at the Blackbird Decepticon and he knew they were in trouble. This guy was huge! And that meant the big, "kill all human life," death droid would be even bigger.
The Blackbird whirled louder as his system flared to life. "Behind the MiG now!" ordered Simmons as he made a circling motion with his right hand. Poor guy totally had reverted back to his field agent mode.
The jet's shell cracked, right above Sam's head. Parts chimed and sparked as the neck of the Blackbird bowed over Sam's scrambling form. Plates shifted back and the cockpit rose into the air. Parts clattered to the ground as the slowed, screeching transformation sounds filled the hangar. Dust, rust, and sparks showered the tile floor with the transformation sequence.
Sam vaulted over a railway and he followed his friends to the MiG Simmons ordered them behind. Arms and feet grew out of the clanking Decepticon as loud grunts and complaints shouted above the transformation. The Blackbird knelt to his knees and pushed up his oxidizing frame, grunting in a, surprisingly, British accent.
"Har, ha! ERR, gah!" the Decepticon shouted as he banged on his thigh platting to force it into place. He shoved the cockpit that was above his helm out of his optics, grunting like an old fart the whole time. The piece jerked back and his beard plates clanged together as he continued to growl.
The humans slid on their bellies beneath another fighter jet, further away from the Decepticon. "What sort of hideous mausoleum is this?" demanded the old Decepticon.
The humans remained quiet as Wheelie frantically crashed into Leo. The computer and kitten calendar freak grabbed the RC truck and forced him away, eyes focused on the Decepticon.
Jetfire, as the humans would later figure out, glared around with dull red optics, lubricants flew from his mouth as he scanned around for the humans. "Answer me, pawns and knaves!" Jetfire demanded as a yellow plane blocked his view; Jetfire swung a limb and knocked the plane away from his sight. "Show yourselves or suffer my infinite wrath!"
Sam ushered the group from beneath the plane out, when he realized the Decepticon wasn't going to obliterate them on the spot. The freshman walked out with his hands raised in surrender to Jetfire. The Blackbird walked forward on thick bird-like-legs wobbly. He leaned heavily on his landing gear cane and locked optics on the humans. He knocked away a suspended engine part and growled, "You little spinal-cord-based organisms!" The engine swung around and smacked Jetfire solidly in the face, causing the metal to spark. "Bugger it!" cursed Jetfire as he stumbled into the belly of a hanging black plane. The engine part crashed to the ground and Sam leaned away from it as the cone-shaped piece rolled on the floor in a circle. Mikaela hung back with Leo as Simmons took a few cautious steps forward.
"Behold the eternal glory of Jetfire!" the Decepticon shouted deliriously as he stood taller on his wobbly leg struts between single prop-shark-painted planes. He lifted his cane up and pointed it forward like he was leading a charge. "Prepare for a remote systems override!" Then he lumbered off towards the hangar doors.
"I tell ya, this guy did not age well," said Wheelie disappointed slightly as he transformed next to Mikaela's boot.
"I don't think he's going to hurt us," Mikaela said as the group watched the crazy old bot. Leo's jaw was slack and Simmons had a look of suspicion on his face. Sam just stared skeptically at the Decepticon, waiting for him to attack.
"I command these doors to open," demanded Jetfire again. Apparently this guy was used to getting what he wanted, well, that's the Decepticons for you.
He leaned back and shouted at the hangar doors. "Fire!" when nothing happened he demanded again. "I said, fire!" Jetfire punched the hangar door and a missile flew out of his arm, going backwards. It crashed and exploded, causing the humans to yell, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
"Bollocks," grumbled Jetfire. "Curse these worthless parts!" He then proceeded to bash his cane against the hangar doors; denting and opening them in the process.
"Wait a second!" shouted Sam as he realized what the Decepticon was doing.
Jetfire bashed the doors apart and he ducked beneath the now open hangar doors and trudged outside. The Blackbird shuffled forward outside in the afternoon light. It was a flat dried grassy field that was loaded with retired C-17s, bomber planes and other USA military cargo aircraft over the years. Many of them were spotted with white paint from replaced parts or painted over graffiti.
"Itchy, wretched rust in my arse!" cursed Jetfire as he wobbled forward and scratched his aft harshly. Disgustingly, a shower of rust fell to the ground. "Gaho!"
The Blackbird rumbled off as the humans ran after him with a Wheelie racing between their strides. "Ooh! The museum is going to be very angry. Very angry!" yelled Simmons as he surveyed the damage Jetfire already had done. They ran on the road between a lineup of military cargo planes. "We gotta catch that plane!" commanded Simmons.
Bumblebee's snarling Camaro engine caught Sam's attention and he looked back to see his guarding churning up the dust with Skids and Mudflap. Bumblebee pulled a hard E-Brake turn to swerve between some planes, a waterfall of creamy dust followed his turn as he expertly pulled in. The showoff.
Jetfire looked between the planes and he banged his fist on a wing of one. The metal shuttered under the assault and Jetfire exclaimed, "Right. I'm on a mission!" He swung his crane around and broke another planes tail fin off.
Sam still tried to gain the Decepticon's attention with a bunch of 'waits' shouted quickly. Sam and his friends were still ignored as the scatterbrain mech rumbled on.
"Wait, wait, wait! JETFIRE!" shouted Sam as he waved his hands around to gain his attention. The large Seeker turned and glared at the humans. "What do you want?"
"Look, we just want to talk!"
"I have no time to talk! I'm on a mission," Jetfire backed up and whirled around to face the humans. "I'm a mercenary doom-bringer. What planet am I on?"
Simmons, Leo, Mikaela and Sam stood under the cargo planes wing as they watched the Decepticon. They shared a look. "Earth," answered Sam.
"Earth?" repeated Jetfire, with a slightly disgusted tone to his voice. "Terrible name for a planet. Might as well call it 'Dirt,'" he leaned down with one servo on the ground and spit towards the humans. "Planet 'Dirt,'" he joked rudely. "Tell me. Is that robot civil war still going on? Who's winning?" he asked as he leaned further to the slightly terrified and annoyed humans.
"The Decepticons," answered Sam sadly, but loud enough for Jetfire to hear with bad audios.
Jetfire sighed heavily and leaned over to spit a mouth full of lubricants in the dirt. "Well, I changed sides to the Autobots."
"What do you mean 'changed sides?'" pestered Sam.
"It's a choice. It's an intensely personal decision." Jetfire answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So much negativity. Who wants to live a life filled with hate?"
Wheelie wheeled forward and he looked up at the now former Decepticon. "You mean you don't have to work for those miserable, freaking Decepticons?"
"If the Decepticons had their way, they'd destroy the whole universe."
Wheelie crawled over to Mikaela on all fours, "I'm changing sides. I'm changing sides, too, warrior goddess." Then the RC ex-Decepticon grabbed Mikaela's leg and started to intensely 'hug' it. "Who's your little Autobot?"
"Ah, you're cute," cooed Mikaela as she tucked back a strand of raven black hair.
"Name's Wheelie. Yeah, say my name. Say my name!" he chanted.
Simmons looked at the little RC and just cocked his eyebrows in a shrugging guested. Leo looked disgusted out with that scowl on his face.
"What are you allowing to happen to your foot just now?" asked Sam uncertainly, squinting at the little robot.
Mikaela straightened and planted a hand on her hip. "At least he's faithful, Sam."
"Yeah, well, he's faithful and he's nude and he's perverted."
Sam kicked the drone of her foot and pressed a palm to his tiny shoulders. "Hey… can… can you just stop?"
"Hey! What are you doing?" cried Wheelie as he stumbled away, rolling on his back plates.
"It's just something to think about," he was saying to Mikaela. "I won't argue with… What were you say?" Sam asked Jetfire.
Jetfire crashed a fist against the ground and the human's leapt to avoid it. "I told you my name is JETFIRE, so stop judging me!" he slammed his cane at the human's feat and they all held up their hands in surrender while the men shouted more 'whoas! Hold up a sec!'
"Somebody messed the bed this morning," grumbled Wheelie. He adjusted his optic to try to fit it back into his casing so he could see better.
"I have issues of my own," started Jetfire. "And it started with my mother!"
Leo and Simmons looked up at Jetfire, but they made sure to keep an eye on Jetfire's crane. Which was right at their feet, they didn't want to go spat under an old mechs crane.
"My ancestors have been here for centuries. My father, well he was a wheel, the first wheel! Do you know what he transformed into?
"No!" said Simmons as he scrambled to get back to his feet.
"Nothing!" shouted Jetfire as he pointed a digit and them and spit from his mouth again. He lifted his crane and slammed it back into the ground. "But he did so honor, dignity, scrap it!"
A rumbling rolled through his tanks and Jetfire back-fired loudly. An orange landing parachute shot out of his butt with a cloud of smoke and unfurled in the slight breeze of that day. Jetfire's balance was overthrown and he wobbled on his old pedes before crashing to the ground with a loud clatter. The parachute deflated as the parked Autobots rolled forward a bit more protectively.
Jetfire dropped his cane and the humans ran up to him. He rolled to his side and pressed a servo to his face plates. "Bollocks," he cursed. "My boosters are fired!" he growled and slammed a curled fist into the ground near Sam. The small propellers in his servo spun around randomly as his gears sparked when the old Seeker moved.
"You know things I don't know. I know things you don't know," Jetfire rolled his optics at Sam and grumbled. "I do." the brown hair teen tried to convince the large Blackbird.
"I don't think he knows anything," Leo said. "Honestly I don't."
Sam caught Simmons's attention and he asked if the ex-agent had a hunting knife or something sharp he could use it to draw in the rough matted ground. Simmons handed him a double-edged knife and Sam swiftly started to trace the symbols he'd been seeing in his head on the ground.
After Sam started the last symbol in the circle he slammed the knife down and started to retrace it, making it darker. "I can do this all day. It comes in waves, these vivid symbols," he said. "They're symbols, but they're in my mind. You see, all this is in my mind,"
Sam stabbed the knife in the ground and stood up, looking at Jetfire. "and Megatron wants what's in my mind. Him and someone called the Fallen."
"The Fallen? I know him," gasped Jetfire. He started to stamp his pedes on the ground as Bumblebee and the Chevy Twins drew closer as the conversation turned important. "He left me here to rust!" The Blackbird banged a fist against his chest as his parts squealed loudly. "The original Decepticon. He's terrible to work for. It's always apocalypse, chaos, crisis." Jetfire wobbled on his pedes again as he started to point at the glyphs in the grass. "These transcriptions, they were apart of my mission, the Fallen's search!
"I remember now," he started to finger with his beard plates. "for the Dagger's tip, ah.. and the key!"
"Slow down," said Sam and he held up a hand. "The Dagger's Tip? The Key? What are you talking about?"
Jetfire crouched down over them and he cupped his servos around them. "No time to explain. Hold on, everybody! Stay still or you'll die!" The Seeker's body started to hum loudly as blue electricity encircled the Autobots and the four humans. Each of them grasped each other in fright as the sound intensified and the air was ripped away from their lungs.
With a crack of thunder, they were gone.
The windy sands of Egypt whistled through the rough mountain peaks. The orange sand didn't shift and inch as the wind blew up in the atmosphere. On a calm sandy slope a loud whizz pop shew were followed with an up shoot of dust in the sky. One large black Decepticon shot up as a manly screaming human were thrown sideways.
Another whizz pop shew and two twins crashed against the mountain rocks. "Waaaaaa ooowwllllll," they shouted and grunted as they slammed and bounced against the rough stone and tumbled out of sight.
The last loud whizz pop shew exploded and a spiraling Bumblebee soared out of the dust and free fell towards the earth. His weak vocal processors gave a pitiful moan as he flew. Bumblebee slammed on his shoulder joints and he bounced once on the sand, flipped on his belly, and bounced again. Bee lay in the sand on his doorwings, exhausted as a puff of orange sand vented from his vocal processor.
Sam face planted a little ways away from Bee and he started to scream as his hand burned in agony. He rolled to his back and clutched the hurting left hand to his chest.
Simmons, who was the first human out of the teleportation started to snow ball down the hill. "Ahh, ow, oooh, woow, agh, ahh, ooh," he grunted as he rolled and rolled.
Jetfire was stretched out between some small buttes. He pushed himself up on his elbows and grunted, "Well, that wasn't so bad." A screaming Wheelie sailed through the air and crashed landed on Jetfire's helm; he bounced and rolled across the butte. "I just hope we're still on the right planet."
"Hey, that freaking hurt!" cursed Wheelie at Jetfire. He banged his small servo against the rock and glared at the larger ex-Decepticon.
Simmons glanced around frantically from side to side. His mouth opened into an 'o' shape as he said breathlessly, "Oh my gosh."
Leo and Mikaela were down hill. Leo was rolling to his side gasping and grabbing his crouch in pain. Mikaela turned around and cupped her hands to her mouth. "SAAAAM!"
Sam saw them and he shouted back, "Where are we? Simmons!"
Simmons saw the Cube brain and he started to jump up and down. "Hey! Yeah!"
Leo had recovered and the techie, chick hunter, was looking around. "Oh my. Oh, my gosh! What is this? It's Vegas!" He got up and started to run to his friends who were heading towards the Autobots.
"You guys okay?"
"Yeah!" replied Mikaela. The black beauty took off running to her boyfriend.
"Hey, I think we're in Vegas!" shouted Leo. They met up and started to climb the butte Jetfire perched on. Mikael ripped a portion of her scarf she had in her pocket and started to wrap Sam's burnt hand.
"That really, really hurt," exaggerated Simmons. He pointed an accusing figure up at Jetfire. "You're just lucky that I didn't get hurt!"
Jetfire swiveled around and held a servo over his optics as the older human continued on. "People could have gotten killed, okay? And if I would have gotten hurt you would have heard—"
The ex-Decepticon leaned down and snarled. "Oh shut up! I told you I was opening a space bridge. It's the fastest way to travel to Egypt."
"What?" squeaked Sam. He stood up from Mikaela who was bandaging his hand. "When did you… when did you tell us? You didn't tell us anything," Sam stomped around and whipped back to face Jetfire. "You didn't tell us anything! Why are we in Egypt?!"
"Don't you get snippy with me, fleshling! You were duly informed!" Grandpa Blackbird leaned back and rolled to sit on his aft.
Sam calmed down. "Can we just stop for a second? Can you focus? Can you tell us why we are in Egypt so we can all have a little bit of semblance of peace of mind?"
"This planet was visited by our race once before," started Jetfire. He got up on his pedes again and swung into perfect story telling mode. "by our earliest ancestors, millennia ago.
"They were on an exploratory mission to harvest Energon, the lifeblood of our race. Without it, we'll all perish, oxidize and rust, like my wretched self!" yelled Jetfire as he raised his fist to the sky and rusted parts fell from his body after a loud pop.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to slowly fall apart and die?" Sam and Leo made a sped up motion with his hands to get the old bot off his detour.
"Let's not get episodic, okay old-timer?" cut in Simmons. "Beginning, middle, end. Facts. Details. Condense. Plot. Tell it!" he clapped his hands together to emphasize.
"Somewhere buried in this desert our ancestors built a great machine," Jetfire's voice darkened dramatically. "It harvests Energon by destroying suns." He looked up into the sky to see the noonday sun glint off his rusted metal armor.
"Destroy suns?" Sam said.
"You mean blow them up?" squeaked Leo. He made an explosion motion with his hands.
"Yes. You see, in the beginning, there were seven Primes, our original leaders. And they set out into the universe seeking distant suns to harvest." The storyteller drew away his servo to help paint the picture. "The Primes set out with one rule, never destroy a planet with life, until one of them tried to defy this rule. And his name forever more was… the Fallen."
Jetfire raised his servo and out of the disk on his palm a projection of an evil, red glowing and snarling mech appeared. The humans stepped back as the hologram formed right before them. "He despised the human race," the Fallen growled like a wicked animal and the hologram continued to play.
An ancient, alien mech sprung on a small ledge of rocks and he brandished his war spear. "and he wanted to kill you all by turning on that machine." The Fallen stopped and slowly looked over his shoulder to see a half finished pyramid shaped machine. His vile red optics glinted as he roared like an animal. The links on his helm rattled like a rattlesnakes tail. "The only way to activate it is with a legendary key,"
The hologram shifted to show six Primes looking down at a spinning silver curved dagger. It sang shrilly, but beautifully as it spun to reach one of the Primes servos. "Called the Matrix of Leadership," continued Jetfire with his tale, right in step with the hologram projection.
The Fallen stole the Matrix and he clenched it tightly in his servo. The image suddenly showed thousands of ancient Cybertronians fighting in the desert; their loud battle calls and primitive catcalls filled the ancient Earth landscape. Flare missiles arched through the sky and struck the rough ground weakly as the brothers ducked it out. "A great battle took place over the possession of the Matrix. The Fallen was stronger than his brothers, so they had now choice but to steal and hide it from him."
The first Prime grabbed the hovering Matrix after they had skewed their brother with their war spears. He held the Matrix close to his chest as him and his brothers retreated. "In the ultimate sacrifice, they gave their lives to seal the Matrix away in a tomb made of their very own bodies, a tomb we cannot find." The hologram showed the six Primes gathering together on a rugged cliff side. The center of their brotherly hug flashed orange and their frames suddenly melted together and a cascade of rocks covered the evidence with a blinding flash.
The hologram ended and the humans glanced back up at Jetfire. "Somewhere, buried in this desert, that deadly machine remains. The Fallen knows where it is and if he finds the tomb of the Primes, your world will be no more."
"Okay, so how do we stop him?" asked the pretty raven headed girl.
"Only a Prime can defeat the Fallen," answered Jetfire as he looked up into the sky again.
"Optimus Prime?" asked Sam cautiously.
Jetfire swung down, excitement radiating off his old rickety frame. He kneeled down close till his beard panels were scraping against the gravely ground on the butte. "So, you've met a Prime?" asked Jetfire in disbelief. "Why, you must have met a great descendant. Is he alive, here on this planet?" asked the ex-Decepticon hopefully.
"He sacrificed himself to save me," Sam said sadly.
The Blackbird's frame slumped on itself as sadness ate at the crazy mech's spark. "So, he's dead… Without a Prime, it's impossible. No one else could stop the Fallen."
An idea hit Sam as hope flourished inside of him. "So, the same energy that's gonna be used to reactivate the machine, could that energy somehow be used to reactivate Optimus and bring him back to life?"
"It was never designed for that purpose, but it's an energy like other," Jetfire answered with a hint of admiration to his voice.
"So, then how do you get us to the Matrix before the Decepticons get to me?"
"Follow your mind, your map, your symbols!" Jetfire tapped against his cockpit above his optics. "What you carved in the sand, it's your clue! When dawn alights the Dagger's Tip, Three Kings will reveal the doorway!"
Simmons nodded to himself and started to mumble as Mikaela cocked an eyebrow at Grandpa Blackbird. Jetfire stamped his cane to the ground again, "Find the doorway! Go now! Go!" he started to make shooing motions with his servos.
"That was my mission. It's your mission now," he pointed directly at Sam with one servo. "Go before the Decepticons fine me, and fine you."
The humans ran down the cliff and hopped into the awaiting cab of Bumblebee. The three Autobots reversed it and they charged off into the desert at the humans formed a game plan.
Jazz perched himself on the cliff edge, listening intently at Grandpa Blackbird's story. The Sixth Prime was besides him, a tornado of emotions swirled through his optics as he watched the history of his Brother's last living stand.
"Ya were there, weren't ya?" asked Jazz quietly as they watched the hologram.
"Yes, I was Jazz. Jetfire's story is most accurate, but he never heard it from the perspective of a Prime," the Prime said. "I was the Sixth leader of Cybertron, not the youngest, nor the oldest. My real name was Terratruss Prime, but I've chosen to go by Sixth."
"You are Terratruss? Tha Prime thwat created guardi'n bonds?"
"I was, and still am," said the Prime quietly. "When the Matrix was stolen away from Prima, the first Prime, we went to war. The Fallen dragged us here by destroying our sarcophagi, eliminating us of our full abilities to go between time realms. Mine was only nearly shattered in the assault, but still intact, so that left me with the most powerful surviving ability. Prima ordered the Dynasty of Primes to Earth where we stole back the Matrix, and defeated our brother by locking him away in his sarcophagus. Hopefully forever.
"When the Primes gave up our lives to create the Tomb of Primes, Prima pulled me to the side and he said, 'One must always guard the Matrix Brother. If not, it's power will fall into the wrong hands and become corrupt,' he said. 'With your sarcophagus not destroyed, you shall live on to guard and protect the Matrix until Primus relieves you of your duty.' He then touched my spark through our bond, and I was given the chance to live on in this limbo life. Watching, waiting, protecting."
Jazz looked at the ancient mech. "Ever since then, you've been guarding the Matrix?"
"Yes. And my involvement allowed guardian bonds to form between sparks. Primus made sure of it, and my name went down in history as the founder of guardian bonds when the Dynasty disappeared." Terratruss said. "In order to guard the Matrix, I must shatter it when the boy finds it. My brother's left me that order the last time I was able to speak with them, and I must abide."
"When was tha las' time ya spoke ta them?" asked Jazz.
"It has been a long, long time Jazz. And I know I will soon be able to speak with them again. Because the Fallen is here, on this planet, ready to destroy it with our wretched machine. We should have paid closer attention, the human race does not deserve to be extinguished." Terratruss growled angrily, the yellow light between his armor slips flashed.
"If the human boy fails, our lives will become the living Pit,"
KTAB: WOWWOWOWOWO! Thank you so much guys for all the wonderful support I've gotten! My reviewers and favorite/followers, you guys just make me melt with happiness. I never expected the story to be this good at the near one month point! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *jumps around*
You guys are probably thinking, "Game Plan" is huge! (looking at my outline in my head and paper, the story is going to be big!) Yes, I know. I just had to but Jetfire in there with Sam and the gang. He's my FAVORITE mech, even though he dies and gives Optimus his parts. Ew. I wanted to do a little tribute to him and put Grandpa Blackbird in. :] Having Jetfire there was important, as you can see with the last section, but I had to reveal what was going on with the time line to you guys. So, yeah. That parts like 3,000 words long. It was fun to do! I popped the CD of ROTF into my tower, found the correct spot to start and I played the "Pause, write, watch for a second, pause, write, continue" game to write it. So it is very accurate! I hoped I succeeded in painting the movie in yer head!
Terratruss (terra truss ) Prime is my invention. The founder of Guardian bonds! So he's like the ultimate Guardian, of several things... If you want to use him, you got to ask! A bitter sweet good bye with the bots, and now they're AUTOBOTS! Terratruss can do that, because he's a Prime, so he's got tha POWERA! :D No worries Jazz fans! This isn't the last you will see of JAZZ, you can't get rid of that little glitch that easily. I read in one fanficition, can't remember which, that they made the comment that Jazz is extremely hard to kill and he'll always find a way back from being deadspark. So there's hope guys!
Chapter 9 is updated, sorry for all the mistakes guys. I was tired and I should have hit the spell check button. *hangs head with shame* you still love me right?
Shout outs:
Thank you SolarFlare Prime, and Gamerjord144 for the favorite/follows. SolarFlare, thank you a ton for the Author Favorite/follow!
TheGhost129: Sorry, but I do not think of those thoughts at all! Sorry for painting that picture in you head... ^^'
Answerthecall: :]
Gamerjord114: I don't know if I'll do any pairings. I have like zero experience with writing pairings, but I guess well just see where the story goes. :D If you have any ideas (this goes to all of you) about pairings, give a review about it! I'll take every consideration into thought.
ForgotMyName2Day: Dude, I love your username, it's funny! Jazz will be there, just not seen all the time. I have a few optic cocking moments with him and the bots. Cause they can only see him, so it appears they are talking to thin air. Jazz is unpredictable at times, weird things will happen. Get what I mean?
Ativii: Jetfire... Jetfire are you there?
*Jetfire jerks and he swings his cane*
Jetfire: What do you want youngling! I was having a moment!
Ativii: I wouldn't say sitting there and picking at your rusted toes is a 'moment'?
Jetfire: Go bug some other mech with your annoying presence, I have better things to do. *mutters to himself*
Ativii: Fine! You're an awesome Grandpa Blackbird, I wish you'd stay around longer! There I said it, you crazy old bugger! *rolls away*
Jetfire: Now what did that little pawn ask of Jetfire? Hrm. *turns to audience* ah, an audience. Prepare for the infinite wraith of JETFIRE!
*Author sighs in the background.*
KTAB: Jetfire, you were a crazy one.
Question: What do you think the importance of the Infinite is? (It will reappear.) What are you theories about that place?