Maelstrom 1

Homecoming: Part 10

Rampage flew backward's from the impact and Tantrum followed immediately to land on top of him. Rampage couldn't see much from under Tantrum but from the sound of repeated, enraged blasting he figured he was better off smothering under the bull's weight than out there with no cover. The two of them opted to play possum - it was usually good strategy when Galvatron targeted you for one of his rampages.

The only thing was...this time it wasn't Galvatron.

It was Cyclonus.

The Decepticons had flown home in stunned silence. Retreats were nothing new but this time was different. Razorclaw had moaned and gurgled - his wounds were hastily treated as they ran and he'd been lucky to last long enough to make it to Char's medical facilities. Donations of energon from his fellow Predacons had made all the difference. Although none of them mentioned it, every Pred was painfully aware of their situation. None of them wanted to end up like the Constructicons.

The donations of fuel had made them tired though, so getting out of Cyclonus' way had taken them longer than some of the others. Which was why they were currently decorating the walls.

The assault had come without warning of any kind. Everyone, even Galvatron had been quiet on the way home. Trypticon's death..TRYPTICON! Dead! Not even Deadend had anything to say about that...as if he thought his usual apocalyptic prophetizing was somehow redundant now that they seemed to be on everyone's mind. Of all the Decepticons to fall...Trypticon!

Razorclaw's vicious wounds somehow made it all more terrifying and harder to understand than even that. Few of them had ever seen more savage wounds...not even wounds THEY had inflicted.

And all of this the result of one Autobot.

Which Autobot?

A clumsy, stupid, viscous Dinobot? No. Any of the very few Bots known for deep hatred for Decepticons? Nope. One of the old warriors like Kup or Magnus who made no excuses for their behavior on the battlefield any more? Nope...not them either.

It had been a Prime. Another dead and gone Prime. Or rather another dead and not gone enough Prime!

Everyone had flown all the way home thinking about that. About how Trypticon was totally dead and Rodimus Prime was not quite as dead as he should be.

The one time anyone had said anything was when Frenzy had said one name..."Starscream" and was immediately pummeled into silence by Rumble.

Everyone kept a close eye on Galvatron who seemed rather...pensive. They didn't expect it to last. For Cyclonus to be silent was no surprise though - he rarely spoke unless he had to. They'd landed, gotten Razorclaw stabilized and under repair, and then all hell broke loose.

There'd been no warning...not even a yell at first. The Decepticon second had merely assaulted the nearest body and gone on to the second without a sound. When he finally had made a sound it was with his considerable firepower first, and only then had he started screaming and cursing at all those who caught his attention. None of it was very intelligible of course...except when he caught hold of Motormaster and thrashed the larger Con to the ground. The Stunticon commander knew what Cyclonus was saying - that he was an egotistical, moronic liability on wheels... Motormaster just didn't understand why Cyclonus was saying that. He did understand his life was in danger though...and he understood pain.

Already in shock over the day's events, and stunned anew at who was perpetrating this violence, most of the Decepticons didn't even scatter as they would have if it had been Galvatron on a rampage. Cyclonus seemed to have centered on Motormaster for some reason and it was clear he wasn't going to stop. Wildrider went into a panic that his gestalt-mate would be killed and tried to intervene. Cyclonus backhanded and blasted Wildrider with one motion - sending the Stunticon flying backwards to leave a distinct impression against the wall upon which he collapsed.

Motormaster took blow after blow - far too stunned and injured to even defend himself. Salvation came from the most unlikely of places. There was a tap on Cyclonus' shoulder. The enraged Decepticon whirled....to look right down the barrel of Galvatron's fusion cannon...and right into Galvatron's smirking face.

The Decepticon leader gave no appearance of anger. He smiled at Cyclonus almost proudly. "Now you understand," he whispered to his second who was frozen in complete shock. Then Galvatron started laughing. He sounded eerily like the flame-colored apparition on Trypticon's lifeless skull. He laughed and laughed and though Cyclonus remained frozen in his sights, the rest of the Decepticon army fled in utter panic. Motormaster fainted - his consciousness running when his legs could not.

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Rodimus wished he could scream. He really really wished he could scream- not from pain, not from flashbacks or nightmares, but just from the pure frustration he was feeling.

"What an utter waste of time and resources..." he thought - a big, silly smile pasted on his face. But then he wouldn't be Rodimus Prime unless he enjoyed a huge party in his honor now would he? He thought about that. No. Rodimus Prime would love a big bash like this. Rodimus Prime would love the loud music, delight in seeing Kup, Magnus, and Optimus suffering from that same music because it was his party and they had to endure it. Rodimus Prime would delight in seeing as many of his friends as were safely possible to attend coming together to talk, dance, and enjoy themselves in the name of his safe return.

Rodimus Prime would surely love this. Yet here he was counting the seconds so he could finally get to work... who did that make him then? Not Rodimus Prime, that was for sure. In the mean time he chatted Springer, danced briefly with Arcee, explained (again!) to Grimlock that he'd never really been dead at all and couldn't tell him what it felt like. He complimented Blaster on the choice of "tunes" and made the expected suggestion that Blaster "crank it up a few more decibels," since Magnus and Kup were "old and hard of hearing."

Actually the music was the worst part. Why did so many human songs have to do with love or lost love anyway? The wall in his mind was hurtful enough without all the reminders.

He kept that smile plastered on his face though and thought even Optimus was fooled. The elder Prime seemed pleasantly surprised at how much Rodimus was enjoying himself. Good. Let him be fooled. It would make things much easier if Optimus didn't know everything.

The story they'd given the Autobots was not really a lie so much as an even more abbreviated truth than he'd given the senior staff. Rodimus knew the Quints were involved with his original capture and he wanted to mislead them with what they already knew. He knew they'd hear the story he gave his people sooner or later. As it stood, he told his friends that a Quint had used some kind of teleporter on him and that he'd ended up far from Cybertron. He gave just enough details to make it seem like the teleporter had either misfired or that he'd ended up in the right place but didn't remember it. He claimed he was "missing time" since he had been gone for several more months than he could account for.

Any Quint checking up on his capture would know that Jabez base had been destroyed. They might even know the Maelstrom had done it. He claimed to have been found floating in space by "sympathetic people with... ummm... slightly illegal job descriptions" who then smuggled him home. Let the Quints worry about who that meant. If they assumed some kind of smugglers had found him it would explain why he was reluctant to name names. They might even think the Maelstrom crew had rescued him without telling him their real purpose. It was something they had done numerous times in the past to protect those they rescued and obscure their actions.

The Autobots certainly swallowed it, and in a way it irked him that they were so gullible...and that he had to leave them that way. It also bothered him the way those who thought they knew more than the others seemed a bit smug, and a bit distressed over how easily the others fell for his lies. As if they weren't falling for lies themselves. He wondered if any of them ever considered that...and caught Magnus looking at him a bit suspiciously. Hmmm...Optimus he'd expected to be suspicious, but now he saw he'd have to tread carefully with Magnus too. Rodimus reminded himself to be more careful about what he wished for.

He sighed and felt unbearably lonely all of a sudden. He remembered clearly when a night like this would have seemed so pleasurable. Loud music, overabundant energon, all of his friends. It felt so distant now. The music couldn't reach him.

The light seemed far away. The conversations of his friends irrelevant. He stood alone is a sea of light and sound and none of it touched him with his very thoughts divorcing him from everyone he loved.

The only thing that might bring them closer was suspicion like Magnus was feeling...suspicion Rodimus would have to assuage to kept them distant. He felt dead, and cold, and...and it wouldn't help him to start feeling sorry for himself. He had to accept the fact his body didn't seem real anymore and that he wasn't likely to get much sensation out of it. He had to get used to living undercover amongst his friends.

Blurr and Wreck-gar came up to talk to him and he forced himself to focus on them - to follow and translate every cumbersome word...and tried not to miss a friendship which had required no words at all.