First, please let me apologise for the awful delay in continuing the story. You may remember that in Oct 2013 our son was diagnosed with aplastic anaemia a week before he was due to start university, and our lives pretty much fell apart. In the intervening months he's had his stem cell transplant, with me as his donor, and so far things are going well, so much so that he's planning to start his degree this October (the university deferred his place for two years, bless 'em). I'm still his full time carer, but he's regaining more and more of his independence - not having to keep rushing him into hospital with yet another infection helps! - and I have a little more time to myself.
But it's been almost a year since I wrote anything other than my blog or IMDb episode guides, so please forgive me if it takes a little while to get back into writing. This chapter is short, and a wee bit of a filler, but the next one should be better...
(More notes at the bottom.)
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"OK, so, we can't offer Cybertronian teaching anymore, but we must be able to do something. We're all set up for it, it would be a shame to waste it. Uh... human-Cybertronian relations? Xenoculture and technology? Extraterrestrial ethics?" Aaron raised his hands. "There must be something..."
The academic side of the Consulate felt empty. Sliderule, Reagent and Retort had stayed long enough to finish the courses they were currently running, then had travelled to Mars, where they were 'helping Perceptor with his projects'. Quite what projects had been left deliberately vague, although Poppy put that down to them being too abstruse and complex to be easily explained to a simple human. Phil and Matthew, being NEST operatives and by nature suspicious, weren't so sure, but since there was noting they could do about it they let it rest for now.
Poppy frowned. "Of course we won't let it to go to waste. We'll keep the teaching arm going, but with a change of focus. I've asked Optimus for permission to have Hound and Trailbreaker download the databases of their galactic voyages - well, as much as can fit on our own equipment, anyway! - so that humanity can learn about the species and civilisations they share the universe with. And we still have all the courses that our erstwhile teachers left behind: we'll have scientists of all descriptions visiting. While the Consulates exist our computers will stay on earth, and with instantaneous comms to the community on Mars any queries can be answered pretty much immediately."
"Ah." Aaron was abashed. "You've thought it all out already."
Poppy raised an eyebrow, but didn't deign to reply, and seconds later Ramp beeped to get her attention.
"Jolt is sending images of the biodome."
Poppy grinned and seated herself, gazing intently at the screen. The dome was large and spacious, the external shell seamless, a vast semi-spherical translucent bubble inside which the rich dark green of the mosses Muncher was experimenting with positively glowed in the muted light. In the middle was a low, large building faced in white. Andraste, the Martian Consulate... Poppy shivered as a thrill of anticipation raced through her.
The view switched to inside the dome, and a slow circuit of the 'garden'. At the rear of the house were small shrubs, their foliage dark red and black, a massive greenhouse already full of fruit and vegetables, and accommodation for fowl and fish. They wouldn't be fully self-sufficient, but they'd certainly be able to fulfil their basic nutritional needs for the time being.
Inside the building was plain and austere, although that would change as soon as Poppy got the floor plans and could arrange furnishings. There were five personal apartments, communal kitchen/dining room, communication centre, recreation centre and four offices: everything was scaled for the humans and their guardian mecha.
"They'll be putting in the pool later."
Poppy stared. "Pool?"
The camera angle reversed, revealing Jolt's uniquely alien face. "Ratchet says swimming is an excellent way for humans to stay fit and healthy. So we're going to create a pool for you."
"Isn't that a bit extravagant?" Getting the water there wasn't so much of a problem, but how were they to keep it clean? And surely it would evaporate...
"Apparently you're worth it. Muncher has devised plants that will filter it to keep it clean and hygienic. And it will help to keep the biosystem functioning."
Well, if Ratchet and Muncher had both been involved in the design, there was no doubt it would work.
"Thank you."
A flicker of electricity skittered over Jolt's face as his lipplates moved in his equivalent of a smile. "You're welcome."
He turned the camera again, and Poppy gasped. A short distance from the biodome was... it had to be the city. Metroplex.
He was huge.
And oddly beautiful, gleaming in the distant sunlight. A living city...
She wondered what sort of a mind a living city must have...
She couldn't wait to explore!
But Jolt had turned the camera back to the house.
"We believe we have covered everything, but if there is anything missing, let us know. I am transferring the plans now." In the corner of the office Poppy's printer purred to itself. "I will leave you to take a look. Comm us with your instructions. We estimate the dome will be ready for you in a month."
A month! Poppy gripped the arms of her chair to stop herself from wriggling in an entirely undignified manner.
A month, and they'd be on Mars...
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Thundercracker ran his gaze over Starstream, from helm to stabilising servos and back again - and very much liked what he saw. The Seeker's new frame was smaller and less powerful, yes, but elegant and graceful and considerably more appealing than his last. It looked as though it would be exceptionally fast, as well. His respect for the irascible Ratchet went up exponentially. He extended a servo: Starstream tentatively reached his own and lightly clasped it. Thundercracker :smiled:, field registering relief.
"I am glad you survived."
Starstream half-smiled back. "Likewise. Though I'd be interested in knowing how."
"It's long story..."
"We have plenty of time."
The blue Seeker led Starstream over to a seating area where two large beakers of energon awaited them. Thundercracker was aware of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hovering - surprisingly discreetly - a short distance away, but was for the most part able to disregard them.
"How much do you remember?"
The silver Seeker :shrugged:. "Very little. I know you and Skywarp as names, colours and abilities - but only vaguely. I don't remember our... relationship at all."
"Hm." Thundercracker :frowned: "You remember we constituted the Command Trine?"
"Prowl has told me so. I remember fighting and killing. And pain. A lot of pain. But the specifics - they escape me."
Thundercracker debated internally whether it would be a good idea to tell his erstwhile leader too many details. His previous life had been anything but pleasant... and the Prime had said this was their chance to make a new start.
"Perhaps that's for the best. Let's begin again."
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A focussed Walker was an exceptionally dangerous Walker, and he was currently very focussed indeed. He gazed at the energon manufactory through the night vision scope from a mile away, lying flat on a low rocky hill. It was nondescript from a distance, looked similar to any of the other refineries in the area, except for the plethora of solar panels covering every sky-facing surface. Alien tech in action, obviously.
Still, their security looked to be minimal, at least from here. Probably got lax after years of peace. He patted the small case at his side: Newman had cobbled together a portable small energon detector he would use to track his target once he'd gained access. And he'd gain access the way he usually did, sneak up on and kill a guard then take his place. Most of them were in desert fatigues anyway, unshaven, sweaty, in legionnaire caps and sunglasses or goggles. He'd fit in just fine.
He'd memorised the daily routine by now, and made his way, inconspicuously, through the lengthening shadows, down to the manufactory as the sun was setting. The soldiers were tired by then, exhausted by the heat of the day and eager for their evening meal, and careless because of it. Walker chose someone of similar build to himself, walking along a wall by himself, confident that in the half-light of evening he should be able to take the soldier's place without alerting anyone.
In the shadow of an overhanging wall he quietly and efficiently slid his favourite knife between the soldier's ribs and into his heart, one hand swiftly over his victim's mouth to stifle any sound. The man died without a sound, and Walker removed his ID and gun, shoving the body roughly between a couple of low boulders. He'd be in, out and long gone before it was discovered the next day.
He grunted and waved a hand negligently at the couple of men who muttered half-hearted, tired salutations - since no-one seemed surprised he assumed the identity he'd stolen belonged to a loner, and a not particularly popular one - and made his way seemingly purposefully deeper into the complex. Once out of sight of the mass of staff he checked the detector. Good. Ten signals, three of them close together and small, the rest more widely separated and larger. He'd aim for the smaller robots once the evening meals started being served; there should be less humans around then, for an hour or so.
He debated which one to try for. It would have to be small - Grounds or Hotpot, perhaps, as they'd been known when that fucking traitor Moss was sheltering them. He fingered the other device Newman had made, a miniature EMP generator, not big enough to cause any major damage, but enough to disable the small ones for him to... retrieve one.
He'd need a diversion. It should be easy enough to blow something up at the other end of the manufactory...
It had been too easy, Walker thought smugly to himself as he gazed at the limp mess of metal and cables on the seat beside him. The little robot hadn't had time to put up a fight before he'd zapped it and made his way quickly out of the burning complex. Now in his jeep heading towards the airfield - where his chopper had better be fucking waiting for him or he'd double his fee for the extraction - he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. He'd be back with the THB in twenty-four hours or less, away from this fucking heat and relaxing in a bath.
That he'd managed to cause a fairly significant amount of damage with one single grenade added to the satisfaction, of course. It wouldn't stop production, but it should slow it down. And cause everyone considerable nuisance. It was worth it just for that. The fact that he was helping bring about the downfall of the aliens made it all the more sweeter. If only it had been the bastard that'd maimed him. Or even better, one of his kids.
Ahead of him the rough and ready airfield came into view, and yes, the helicopter was waiting. Good. He grabbed the transformer as he pulled the car up and within ten minutes was on his way back to civilisation.
Zender should be pleased. Now he owed Walker. The ex-NEST soldier should be able to cash in on that, for a while at least.
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I've seen Age of Extinction now, of course, and actually really really liked it, despite it being Bay. I think it was the far bigger, more epic story that mainly appealed. I'm havering over incorporating it into The Poppy Tales, which are after all set in the Bayverse. What does everyone think?
Lastly, I am going to Auto Assembly 2015 in Birmingham in August. Only for the Saturday, but if any readers are going and want to say hello, I'll be the fat, 5' 6", 56yo female with dusty hair and green eyes, most likely in black, wandering around with a happy bemused expression!