Author's Notes: After way too long of doing nothing on it, I've finally started writing in my novel again. When it's published it'll be my second one, and I'll probably post it on more sights than just Amazon this time. That being said, I'm going to do my best to not let that interfere with my fanfics, since these already have people reading them. I hope you guys like this chapter of On The Warpath, and please fell free to leave a review :)
Chapter 10
The Enemy?
Another transfer! Warpath couldn't believe his optics. How many times were they going to transfer him? He was getting shuffled around so much he felt like a deck of cards! Apparently his unit had been performing poorly, so he was being demoted and sent to a planet called Topitron. It was a small organic planet that mostly contained mud, enough solar power for low grade energon, and Autobots defending the native species.
Warpath snorted derisively at the idea of protecting a bunch of weak little organics. They were just animals, but the Autobots acted as if the beasts were sacred or something. Warpath had seen Cybertronians massacred and starving in the streets. It seemed like a waste of resources to care about aliens.
He packed his subspace full of odds and ends and prepared for departure. It was strange that he was the only one being transferred. He had been sent to new locations many times before, but it was always with a unit, never by himself. He would've said goodbye to his troops, but he knew they didn't like him anyway. He would've written to someone to let them know where he was going, but he couldn't think of a single mech or femme he was close to anymore. It seemed like his home was wherever he happened to be and his possessions were whatever he could carry in his subspace pocket.
As he rolled down the hallway in his alt mode heading for the shuttle he noticed the cadets clearing out of his way to make a path for him. He heard one whisper to another "Thank the matrix. He's finally leaving."
Warpath didn't react, but he wanted to say something. A small part of him was still that awkward young tank that just wanted other mechs to like him and accept him. He wanted to transform right then and there and say "Don't hate me! Don't be scared of me! I'm one of you!" He didn't though. It was too late for that.
Warpath was debriefed on his new mission once he was inside the shuttle. He was to be the second in command to a boat former named Oil Fire, and his unit was assigned to pillage any and all Autobot bases. There was to be no bunker left standing, and the energon was to be catalogued and sent back to Cybertron. This would leave very little for the troops, including Warpath.
He hated this mission already. Warpath had gotten used to having energon in sufficient supply, and the idea of starving again while fighting at the same time seemed foolish, but Megatron's orders were clear, and his word was law. It seemed like Megatron was growing more ferocious and less sane by the orn.
When Warpath left the shuttle to see his new home for the next who-knows-how-long, he was immediately struck by the blue sky, the pink clouds, and the numerous birds flying overhead like disorganized seekers. It was safe to say this planet looked lousy, but at least he could see that the Decepticons had an actual building to live in instead of tents. With everything else being so primitive he wasn't sure about that until he saw it with his own optics.
His first stop was into his room. He was one of only three officers that had his own quarters. The space was small, but fortunately as a minibot he didn't need a lot of room. Warpath unloaded a few trinkets and set them on the thin shelf going across the wall. There was a picture of him and his creator, a stress relief toy Air Warrior had given him, and a rock from every city he had ever conquered. His favorite piece of rubble was from Crystal City because of the way it caught the light, but the first one he ever collected was the one from Praxus. Warpath might not have cared about conquest, but his military career was all he had left and he would remember every battle until the day he offlined.
It wasn't until the next orn that he was sent to Oil Fire's office to formally meet his CO. Oil Fire was a black and red boat former that was three times larger than Warpath and twice as ugly. Burning red optics scrutinized Warpath as he sat down in the too-large chair and looked up at his commander with a gaze that spoke of hardened resignation and anticipation.
"Warpath. I expected you to be taller," Oil Fire said in a voice that sounded far too elegant for the crusty old vessel, "I've heard good things about you, soldier. You ran a tight ship back on Cybertron, and served on Gorr during the Autobot occupation of the territory. I hope you're as ruthless as they say you are, because I have a mission for you that every other Decepticon preceding you has failed to accomplish."
"I'll do whatever is BANG necessary," Warpath replied seriously.
"Ah, turrets syndrome. My grandsire had that," Oil Fire commented offhandedly, "You will need a certain degree of stealth for this mission. Can you handle that?"
The truth was Warpath was clumsy and loud. Stealth was not his strong suit, but he was improving in that department over the course of time. He knew whatever this assignment was had to be important, so he nodded affirmation and decided to just work harder to be quiet rather than lose an opportunity to advance his career.
"Excellent," Oil Fire replied approvingly, and then turned down the lights and activated a holographic diagram of an Autobot supply bunker, "This is where the Autobots are currently keeping most of their energon and medical supplies. As you can see the bunker looks ordinary and is typically unguarded. These pictures were secured at great risk by our field agent Buzzsaw. Fliers cannot fly on this planet for long due to the toxicity of the clouds as well as the overwhelming number of indigenous birds. Every ground unit we have sent to raid the bunker has been killed. No one can figure out why since there are usually no Autobots in the area at the time of the raids. Your mission is to go to the bunker and figure out what is killing our troops. Do not attempt to take the bunker. Comm me as soon as you figure out what's going on, and then return to base immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Warpath replied in a clipped tone of voice.
Yes, Warpath understood exactly what this was. This was a suicide mission. Oil Fire wanted him to comm the information because he didn't expect Warpath to return alive to bring the intel in person. Still, he would do it. What did he really have to lose? His life? What life? His honor? Long gone.
Warpath disengaged his tank form once he made it to the border. While his treads made for a smoother ride, he needed to go slow in order to observe every possible trap the Autobots could've set up in the area. The ground was devoid of grass, but the larger trees remained standing. The white foliage of the trees looked soft and pretty. If he wasn't on a mission Warpath might've stopped to admire them.
Warpath crouched as he walked to assess the area from a lower vantage point. If there were any large Autobots guarding the area he didn't want to be seen. He turned every way he could to search for enemies or traps, but he saw nothing.
Finally, Warpath saw the bunker! It was only a few mechano-meters away, and there was only one Autobot standing nearby! Warpath crouched low to spy on his enemy, and saw just what an unimpressive specimen they had guarding their most precious resource.
The Autobot was cerulean blue, and a minibot like Warpath. He looked like he turned into a flimsy car former, and his optics were covered by a grey visor that was likely there to keep the guard's expression from showing what he was feeling. Warpath wondered if this Autobot would terminate himself rather than be captured. The blasted guard wasn't even looking the road, but rather staring at a tree and making weird whistling noises.
Warpath smirked. His superior said he wasn't allowed to take the bunker, but he didn't say anything about taking an Autobot prisoner. That miniature blue scrap pile was coming with Warpath, and the Decepticons were going to force him to divulge the deadly traps in the area by any means necessary.
The tank former got up out of his hunched over position and started running toward the Autobot with his cannon nozzle aimed right for the other minibot's spark chamber! The Autobot looked shocked to see a Decepticon even through the grey visor, and he lifted up his arms in surrender. Warpath stopped and straightened up in a dominating pose.
"Give yourself up Autobot, or you'll be BAM blasted into scrap metal!" Warpath shouted threateningly as he started to walk closer to the Autobot.
"Stay back, mech!" The Autobot yelled desperately.
"You're in no position to ZOW make demands of me, Autobot!" Warpath barked angrily.
"No serious Deceptidude, don't move!" The Autobot held up his hands as if trying to physically hold Warpath back.
The Autobot then grabbed a small rock and threw it in Warpath's direction. Warpath laughed haughtily at how pathetic the Autobot's meager attack was, but stopped laughing when the rock landed near his pedes...and exploded on impact with the ground!
"What the-?" Warpath sputtered in shock.
"That's what I was tryin' to tell you," the Autobot explained, "This whole area is covered in land mines. One wrong step and you'll be one with the matrix."
"Well then what are you WHAM doing out here?" Warpath challenged.
"My visor has an advanced sensor array that allows me to see the mines," the Autobot informed him, "I'm in no danger out here, but you are. Don't move. I'm comin' over, and I'm gonna help you get out of the mine field."
"Yeah, right!" Warpath scoffed, "Like I'm really going to trust a FRAG Autobot!"
The Autobot was undeterred, however. He walked and scuttled around the mines until he was right next to Warpath. The Decepticon tank scowled at the Autobot car, but the Autobot just smiled serenely and gently took Warpath by the arm. Despite his misgivings, Warpath didn't want to die because of a false step. So, against his better judgment, he allowed the Autobot to guide him like a Sparky Scout helping a little old femme cross the street.
The Autobot took him several mechano-meters into the lush forest. Finally, when they were both sure there were no more mines, the Autobot let go of Warpath's arm.
"Hey Autobot, why did you BOOM help me out back there?" Warpath asked in utter befuddlement, "We're sworn enemies!"
"Are we?" The Autobot asked sagely, "We are both children of Cybertron, being hosted by an alien world and all it has to offer. We both have sparks, we both have energon, and we both have optics to observe the beauty of the universe with. Why do we need to harm one another? Didn't our cooperation accomplish more than our fighting?"
"You're not making any sense!" Warpath shouted accusingly, "Also, what kind of guard allows an enemy to get that close to their major source of food and medicine?"
"Guard?" The Autobot asked; confused, "The land mines are the only guard we have. I was just out here to visit my friends."
"Friends? You were POW by yourself!" Warpath pointed out suspiciously.
"No I wasn't," the Autobot contested, "Do you want to meet my friends?"
Warpath quirked an optic ridge. This Autobot had to be messing with him. Not only did he save Warpath's life, but was acting as if this were a garden party instead of a war zone! Nothing this Autobot said or did made any sense!
The Autobot looked up at the trees, and then began to whistle. Warpath had heard him whistle like that before, but didn't know what it meant. After a moment or two he saw what was happening, but hardly believed it. A flock of native birds came flying into the trees and whistling back at the Autobot! Warpath could almost swear the Autobot was having a conversation with them, but that didn't make any sense. They were just dumb animals.
"Hey Decepti-brother," the Autobot turned to Warpath after a minute of whistling to birds, "Fweefwee here wants to know if she can perch on your cannon. Should I tell her no, or is it cool?"
"Uh…" Warpath was a little too stunned to answer at first. How did he go from trying to capture an Autobot to hanging out with the bird-bot of Topitron? "Um...It's okay, I guess," Warpath finally relented.
The Autobot gave him a warm smile and then called the bird over to Warpath. He chuckled a little at how much the bird's talons tickled his cannon as it got situated, but then felt himself stiffen up a little to prevent the beautiful creature from flying away.
"So, you can really talk to birds?" Warpath asked in amazement.
"Sure, I can talk to anything," the Autobot replied matter-of-factly, "My sigma ability is the gift of gab. I can learn any language after only hearin' a few words spoken. I've even talked to plants on certain planets. It gives you a whole new perspective on life when you can see another being's side of things. Makes you reevaluate your priorities. You got a sigma ability, my mech?"
"No," Warpath answered honestly, "Not that it matters. I have an inbuilt weapon, so I can kill just as well as anyone who has a sigma ability."
The Autobot sighed sadly and turned away for a moment. When he looked back, Warpath was surprised to see the Autobot actually looked hurt.
"Why do you want to kill so badly?" The Autobot asked miserably, "Hasn't this war dragged on long enough? Hasn't enough energon been spilled? Why are you so afraid of freedom and peace?"
"Freedom?" Warpath spat the word out like a curse, "Your precious Primes don't believe in freedom! Say what you want about Megatron, but at least he's trying to make Cybertron a world free from the caste system the Primes have been forcing down our intakes for untold eons!"
"You got it all wrong, my mech!" The Autobot quickly said as he slowly backed away from Warpath, "I'll admit, the old system was definitely that way. That's why I was a neutral. I didn't believe in fightin', and I tried to stay out of it for as long as possible. That all changed when the planet I was callin' home was destroyed by Megatron's seeker forces. Nothing was left. Even the glitch mice were terminated! Most mechs could hear each other's screams, but I heard the screams of every mech, femme, sparkling, animal, and insect in the area. Our planet was innocent. We were neutral.
"I would've never joined the old Autobots, however, even after all that, but I found out about the new Prime and everything changed. Optimus Prime isn't like Sentenel Prime or any of the others. He believes all sentient beings have a right to life and freedom. He fights for the weak, not just the rich or the strong. The Autobots aren't the enemy you used to know, and I think you could have a place here. What do you say? Wanna join our ragtag team, brother?"
Warpath's red optics went wide in shock! This slagger honestly wanted him to defect? Just like that? It was preposterous!
"No way!" Warpath pushed the Autobot into the mud and stomped off, "I'm not like you! I was built for war, and this is who I am! I'm a BAM Decepticon! You hear me?"
"Yes, I hear you," the Autobot replied solemnly, "You say a war make is who you are, but is it who you want to be? You can be whatever you want to be. It's your choice, and you have to live with whatever choice you make. Please...Just think about it, and come see me if you change your mind. When I'm not here I'm either on duty or at the petal gardens in the valley. If you wanna talk to me and see another Autobot instead, just ask them for Beachcomber."
"Beachcomber, huh?" Warpath asked, "My name's Warpath. You know, your name makes a lot of sense. I think names say a lot about a mech."
"Maybe," Beachcomber replied thoughtfully, "Of course, I think a mech's spark is a secret until you get to know them, and appearances can be deceiving."
Warpath snorted derisively and walked away from the blue minibot, but inside he was warring with himself over this new information. The new Prime fought for peace, Megatron no longer fought for peace, and the Autobots might actually do something besides kill him on sight. It was a lot for his troubled processor to take in.