21. In which five become one
"Aerialbots, merge!" Silverbolt shouted the order as he transformed in mid-air, surrounded by streaks of energy from Seeker weapons and ground-to-air missiles. In the midst of deadly chaos he became completely helpless -- wings folded, head and limbs retracted -- tumbling blind, weaponless, and out of control several thousand feet above the ground. But he had given the order, and he was confident the Aerialbots would follow it. He trusted his team to respond in time.
Sure enough, he sensed their presences drawing near. Powerful magnetic bonds reached out, drawing metal to metal, to pull the other units into place.
First was Skydive, of course. He transformed and connected smoothly, with barely a whisper. Connector ports opened, struts slid into place, cables latched on. The process was as automatic as transforming itself, and took only seconds to complete. Superion had acquired a leg.
Within the matrix of Aerialbot consciousness, Skydive's calm intellect overlapped with his leader's commanding presence, and submitted to it. Total loyalty and trust as Skydive gave up control of his own body -- now only a component of a much larger being. He surrendered to Silverbolt and to Superion, offering up his love of flying (to counteract Silverbolt's twinge of acrophobia), and his knowledge of strategy and air warfare that they might defeat their enemy together. As a final gesture of unity, he opened up his memories. All their past missions were now seen from two different perspectives, and their previous life histories braided together into an unbreakable chain of experience and knowledge.
/ We are one. /
Now they sensed another, coming in fast. It slammed into place with a jolt that sent Superion tumbling in the other direction. Almost before the connection was complete, a third mind pushed into theirs -- brash, bursting with bravado, and singing with carefree confidence like a skylark in spring. Thoughts to the effect of Let's kick some tailfin, big guy went through the group mind like lightning. Air Raid's personality overlapped with Skydive's intellect and Silverbolt's caution, the effect something like drinking an entire pot of hot coffee in the morning.
Well, at least now their gestalt had two feet to stand on.
With great effort, the group mind assimilated the new presence. Air Raid wasn't exactly resisting, but his wildness was hard to tame for any purpose. It was the thought of 'kicking tailfin' as Superion that eventually got him to calm down long enough for the integration of personalities and memories to take place. His energy and optimism became a part of them, and now they saw the universe through three sets of optics.
/ We are one. /
Another member joined almost immediately. The first contact was a cheerful, if distracted greeting, along the lines of Hey guys, how's it going? It could only be Fireflight.
The new mind was wandering, pulled in a dozen different directions by random whims and stimuli, even as the group mind gently enveloped it and pulled it in. New thoughts, formed mostly of pictures rather than words, swirled around inside the collective consciousness -- vivid images of people and places the others could barely remember seeing. Details they never would've noticed themselves began to fill the gap between memories. Now that wayward curiosity and child-like sense of wonder became part of them as well, just enough to balance the focus and purpose of the rest of the group.
/ We are one. /
Now there was just one more. Mere seconds had passed since Silverbolt issued the order, but the Aerialbots had experienced the effect of downloading several lifetimes of information. Days' worth of conversations had passed between them wordlessly in the wink of an eye. Now all four were calling out, a silent, pulsing call ringing out in all directions from the incomplete gestalt...
At last, a fifth voice answered.
The final Aerialbot was cursing his slowness even as he joined the group. His anger, bitterness, and self-disappointment washed over them in waves, a veritable fortress wall protecting everything vulnerable within. The others had let down their guards, but his always refused to come down at first. No matter how much he wanted to join, part of him always fought, kicking and screaming. Through the anger they could feel the fear -- fear of losing the control he had fought so hard for, fear of trusting another, of submitting to their will only to be used and cast aside. The fear that protected his Spark by wrapping it in barbed wire.
They reached out. He flinched back. He cursed himself for flinching. He tried to reach for them, but he was still holding something back. Flickers of things he didn't want to share came and went, but the invitation from the other four remained steady, Sparks open and desiring.
When at last (after a second that passed like an eternity) Slingshot took a metaphorical breath and immersed himself in the group mind, an overwhelming joy shot through them, a sense of completeness and unity. With their minds and Sparks united, the five who had become one released a pulse of mental energy that woke the sleeping gestalt.
/ All are one. Activate Superion. /
The sixth, dormant personality housed in all their minds suddenly bubbled to the surface. The five were submersed in a dreamlike state, only distantly aware of the actions of their own bodies. Superion was in charge now. He was programmed for combat beyond all of their specifications, and the only way for him to function was for all five to submit their individual wills for the time being. He assimilated them, drawing from each the traits and abilities that he needed.
The strength to command.
The intelligence to outsmart his enemies.
The courage to face all obstacles.
The insight to overlook nothing.
The will to fight to the bitter end.
Alone, they functioned as separate units. Together, they became part of something much greater. Superion was the apex of perfection, the maximum ideal sum of his components. A true war machine, with all of their strengths and none of their weaknesses -- no phobias, no self-doubts, no distractions. Yet he was only the shell, a weapon they used when all others failed. The true strength behind him lay in their bonds as a group, even when not submerged by the gestalt's personality. If they did not trust one another to open their Sparks and share their very selves, Superion could not exist. It was that which made them more than a mere unit. It was that which made their Combiner mode work, when so many others had failed.
Superion raised his head, sensors fully activated. He righted himself in midair with the use of powerful anti-grav thrusters, and looked around before drawing a weapon.
Gestalt unit: online. Searching for targets.
Beneath the layer of combat programming, all five Aerials cheered him on.
- - - - -
A/N: This didn't feel like a very good chapter. I only wish I was better at describing non-action, non-dialogue scenes. Metaphysical stuff is so draining. Originally Superion was going to come online as soon as Silverbolt gave the order, but then I thought: No, he'd need all five of them connected to activate. The way it works (in this story anyway) is, you need the whole team to combine into Superion, but if like, one or two limbs get knocked off once they're joined, he can still function. Of course, it might be awkward fighting with a lot of limbs missing.
I wish to make it clear that there is a difference between Superion and the group mind. Superion only exists in battle, and he's basically a semi-intelligent shell program designed solely to react to combat scenarios. What actually connects the five Aerialbots is the gestalt programming which allows them to share thoughts and memories on a level ordinary (non-Combiner) mechs can't. They have to be connected to become Superion, but they don't have to become Superion to connect with each other. If that's confusing, just don't worry about it. Enjoy the big guy -- I don't write him very often because he's just plain difficult.
On to the fun part: Review replies!
blood shifter: Cybertronians can go without food a bit longer than us, but still, the more they exert themselves the less pleasant the effects are. Flight's problem was that he was flying, searching and burning fuel instead of just staying where he was and waiting for the team to find him. But that's Flight for you. (And yes, the jets and Sideswipe will make a reappearance very soon.)
Evermore Reality: Addicted? Join the club. I do want to write some stuff for other characters on the side, but I don't think I'll ever be able to stop writing for the Aerials. They literally got me into Transformers in the first place, so I owe them.
ajremix: Yes, puppies with wings. Flight only finds painting easy because he has an eye for detail, and he was mostly painting a sky, which means worrying about color and little else. The more he gets into this hobby, the more challenges he'll run into. I'm sure he'll find he's better at some forms of art than others, same as I did. (I'm glad you liked Jealousy, I didn't get a whole lot of reviews for that one but I was proud of it. Slingshot lived a very different life before he joined the Aerials, and it's given him an outlook similar to Sandstorm's in a lot of ways... which is probably why they tear into each other so much.)
Crimson Starlight: World of Warcraft? Arrrgh. You must return to the cuddly jets, yes you must. If they snuggle more, will you stay and read? :P
Thanks for the praises and comments. If you have any questions regarding any of the Aerialbots' characters, past histories, thoughts during the events of a chapter, etc. -- just ask the Aerials themselves. They'll answer their own fanmail here too, as well as in Collide. I can't guarantee their honesty, but at least their replies are more interesting than mine.