Queen of the Red Skittle- I'm glad you enjoyed the interaction of Sunny and Sides in the first scene of the chapter. It was actually a lot of fun to write. They're quite a special pair of imps, aren't they? Of course, by the end of the chapter, everything goes to hell in a hand basket, but at least everyone got some minor happy moments in the beginning! 8D As for what has become of the Big Bad Nasty who just had the joy of raining rust on everyone's parade, his purpose in the Grande Scheme of Things will be revealed soon enough. =)
Independent C- Awkwardness between questioning semi-Autobots and Decepticon-Neutrals trying to find their place in the world is a given, I'd think. It sure makes for weird reunions- you're not sure whether you're supposed to hug them or kill them. XD Virus's loyalty programming is like brainwashing; she's subconsciously aware of how messed up she is, but her consciousness is programmed to serve and obey Megatron with unswerving worship. This might be a crude comparison, but her condition is similar to religious zealots who refuse to acknowledge the Earth is older than 6000 years, even though there are copious amounts of evidence to the contrary. *hands over the brain bleach* I know you've been waiting to use the bleach for a while, but don't overdose. XD
King of Pain- I could elaborate, but it's so much fun allowing the story to unfold naturally. =) As for killing blows in WE, it varies, just as it does with humans. To the head or spark is generally a good way to kill someone, unless their physiology is different in someway. Both humans and TFs can take quite a beating and survive, but I'd say TFs are far more adapted to survival since they've been at war for so long and have been honing themselves to live through the worst.
Flameshield- Oh, there's no need to apologize~ I'm simply happy to hear from you again. ^_^ I'm impressed that you have time to read anything if you're going through the middle of Basic; that's some hardcore stuff right there. My whole family is military, so I can relate to a degree. As for what has become of Megatron… he's not the Megatron we all know and love. He's something else, definitely. What that is, though, I'll leave that up to you to decide. =)
Balrog Roike- Hmmmm, I don't think Psi was particularly hateful for Jazz before trying to manipulate him into resurrecting Megatron, although after that whole debacle, I'm pretty sure the Fallen may be harbouring a grudge or two. XD I think Psi was initially looking for someone powerful and of a darker alliance to sacrifice themselves for his purposes. He just never factored in Jazz being as slippery as he is. What becomes of the Autobots and Decepticons now will be up to them. With such a threat looming over them, they'll hopefully be able to come to some real alliance.
KyuubiSango- lol~ Don't you know, my friend? No one ever stays dead anymore! The new fad is to come back as terrifying super!zombies and scare the life out of everyone! 8D
Dramastar-Mel- Eek! Speechlessness! I hope that's a good thing! 8D
Lecidre- You thought of the 'Exorcist' when Megs did his head-thing? That's so cool! =D That movie was actually the inspiration for the swivelling head in the chapter; I thought it was such a cool/creepy visual! 8D Zombies actually scare the ever living piss out of me, so writing the last chapter with Megatron rising ended up unnerving me quite a bit as well. The whole goal of the chapter was to unnerve/scare my readers, and I'm guilty happy to hear that I scared you. =P Sadly, I can't tell you if Flamewar is going to be alright, but I can say that you shouldn't give up on a femme as tough as her. She'd never go down without a fight.
Litahatchee- Awwww, thanks so much, Lita~ That really means a lot. *hugs* It really is hard to believe the story has come this far, and the lore of this universe has expanded so greatly. I'm just happy I was able to find such a great friend on this site *wink-wink-nudge-nudge* I'm honoured by the bestowment of such a medal~ Am I able to give them to others? Because I want to give about five (billion) to you! XD
Iza-Lu- Oh my goodness, that's really amazing to hear that you have been able to enjoy the WE series as much as you have. I'm quite humbled by it. *blushes* I'm not in any bookstore yet, but someday I will be. =P And I very much consider it a point of pride when I reduce grown women (and men) to squealing fans. XD Squealing is a very good indicator that I'm doing my job right. XD Another point of pride is that I can instil so many questions in a reader! You have no idea how much I enjoy it when readers leave so many questions and guesses in their reviews- it shows their interest and investment in the story, not to mention it helps me write the story itself. =P All of your questions are so good! They will be answered eventually, I swear, just not right away… I hope you continue to enjoy the story! =)
Bluebird Soaring- Jazz is a smart mech; even if it wasn't the Fallen trying to trick him, I don't think he would have interfaced with Megatron's frame. He's too smart not to listen to his own instincts when they're screaming to stay away. Virus, sadly, was too blinded to listen to common sense and look where that got everyone; a giant crazy-ass monster with Instant Rust powers. x_x There doesn't seem to be a lot of hope for our heroes, but don't count them out yet! There's a trick or two up their sleeves for sure!
Chloo- Yep, Earth is pretty much doomed. If we really want to be pessimistic, we can say the whole universe is very much doomed as well. ^_^; And we can all thank nutty Virus for her semi-love for necrophilia. *sigh* Good to know someone likes the classics as much as I do! 8D Cosmic rust was so awesome in G1, there was no way it could stay dead! (Sorry for the semi-bad pun) XD And I have to say that your connection between the Neu-Cons' base and the house from A Series of Unfortunate Events is awesome! I was thinking of a haunted carnival when I created it, but that rickety old house is such a perfect match too! Thanks so much for sharing your insight! =D
Bad Dogg- The Neutrals have it tough, with the whole waking up the Beast of Beasts, but we can all hope that things will turn out for them… right? ^_^;
FunkyFish1991- The thing you said about the willow tree was so inspiring~ I didn't know willows had such regenerative abilities. I was actually thinking of the healing properties of the white willow, symbolising the healing process Sunny is slowly evolving through. ^_^; And you wanna know a secret? Writing the happy bits of this chapter was fun. FUN I tell you. I think I might try it more often. =) But then again, now that you suggest writing horror, I kinda like that idea too… I wouldn't have to hold back on my gore and angst anymore! 8D Arms and other body parts will be severed all over the place just for you and your phobia! XD
Sunstorm's…beliefs? I have no idea what to call them- I have no idea if I will ever address this in the actual story, so might as well put this as an aside to Cybertronian culture (In WE verse). During the Golden Age of Cybertron, there were small groups of transformers who believed that Cybertron was the living embodiment of a sleeping Primus. Crazy, right? Well, everyone else on the planet thought so. The bots who believed are/were mostly artists, mavericks, philosophers, oddballs looking for a purpose in life and happened to stumble down that particular rabbit hole, and really old bots who still remember when belief in Primus was accepted without proof of science. Every sect has its own variances in beliefs, pretty much like Earth- some think Primus is a "god"/infallible ideal, while others merely believe he is the planet itself without supernatural interference. The majority of the species may use the name in vain, but they simply think of Primus as more of a fairy tale.
Kremzeeks and Energy Vampires/Leeches- Honestly, G1 is the holy grail of epic brain-farts. These two mofos were too good to pass up. =)
I hereby dedicate this chapter to my best friend and miracle worker FunkyFish1991, who spammed me with an amazing review spree of love. You, my friend, are the most wonderful creature on the face of this planet. Seriously. I have no idea where all this love or brilliance comes from, but I am in awe of it. There were several moments of me almost crying through your reviews because they were that damn amazing! I should just hand over the WE verse to you since you seem to be able to read it so well! XD
Special shout outs to the regular crew- FunkyFish1991, Lecidre, Litahatchee, and Violetlight.
Read, Review, & Enjoy~
As We Come Together
In Which the End is Nigh
"It's going to be a good orn for flying," Thundercracker said absently as he peered out the window.
The clouds of Chaar's thick atmosphere had thinned a fraction over their small base the orn before, allowing the radiation of the too-close star Chaar orbited to superheat the planet's surface. Now that the clouds were back in place, it was safe to go outside again to take advantage of the massive updrafts of hot air swirling about. It was a flier's paradise out there- the updrafts were so strong, you hardly needed your thrusters to stay aloft. Bots could stay up there for joors drifting along. Some Seekers were already out enjoying themselves, drifting about as bright specks of cheerful colour against the reddish backdrop of the skies.
"So? Who cares what kind of orn it is," Skywarp huffed, passing Thundercracker yet again on his circuit of pacing.
"Maybe you and I should take a break and go for a short flight?" Thundercracker offered reasonably, turning his glowing gaze on his brother.
"No."
Thundercracker frowned. "You've been saying that for orns now."
"And I'll keep saying it until Starscream comes online," Skywarp replied stubbornly.
The navy-painted Seeker rolled his optics. "You're being such a Drama Prime about this, 'Warp."
"No, I'm not," snapped the black-and-violet jet, bristling.
Thundercracker arched his optic ridges. "Starscream is fine where he is; he's being watched over and no one would dare come after him here. We need to take care of ourselves too, you know."
Skywarp hissed, continuing to pace.
With a sigh, Thundercracker appealed to the only other conscious figure in the room. "Acidstorm, tell him he's being a Drama Prime."
A vibrantly green Seeker perked up from his survey of Starscream's motionless frame, blinking owlishly. Realizing he was being addressed, Acidstorm wrinkled his olfactory sensor and said, "Settle your own disputes. Don't drag me into them." He turned his peevish gaze on Skywarp. "And you're a Seeker, Skywarp. You fly. It's not good for you to stay on the ground for too long."
"I'll go flying later," Skywarp huffed, looking away.
"Go now," Acidstorm insisted flatly. Honestly, he wanted both mechs to leave so that he could see to his patient without constant petty interruptions.
"I said I'll go later," Skywarp growled stubbornly.
"Fine, go later," Acidstorm said with a snort. "If you're going to stay here, though, you're going to mute it. I have more important things to do here than referee between the two of you." Putting his back to them, he returned to Starscream in a way that all but shunned the other two Seekers from the room.
Thundercracker aimed a glare in Skywarp's direction. "See? Now you made him angry."
"How was I supposed to know he was going to get all testy about things?" Deciding that he had paced enough, Skywarp turned on his heel and glided for the long bench his brother was currently occupying. Settling down with a heavy sigh, Skywarp's only comfort was Thundercracker's kind gesture of reaching up to rub his shoulder and wing. The touch felt ridiculously soothing.
"I just want him to come online," Skywarp confided softly, sagging morosely.
Thundercracker leaned in, his expression softening. "We all do, 'Warp."
They turned their gazes to the third member of their trine. Though his form was mostly obscured by Acidstorm's considerable wingspan and attitude, they could see enough of Starscream to contemplate. Thanks to the dual efforts of Acidstorm's attentions and Starscream's own bizarre regeneration program, the frame was back to its original condition. There was nothing physically wrong with the mech anymore. In fact, he looked damn near pristine lying on the berth as he was. The only thing wrong with him was the fact that he wouldn't wake up. It didn't matter what any of them did, Starscream simply didn't want to come online.
Skywarp and Thundercracker were broken from their reverie as the windows next to them rattled, announcing someone flying low overhead. A brief flash of bright yellow and orange caught their optics through the crystal pane before the bot disappeared over the stilted building that served as their med bay. Coming around on a second loop, the Seeker transformed and landed on the wide landing pad jutting out from the front of the building.
"Sunstorm," Thundercracker announced before the newcomer entered.
"My orn can't possibly get any worse now," Acidstorm groaned acidly.
The door opened to admit the announced Seeker. He had a quiet expression about him that clashed interestingly with his eye-catching golden paint. Sunstorm was ever the oddball of their flock; one who refused to fight, studied too much, and maintained his white-blue optical settings rather than switching them to red. He scanned the room with a quick look to note who was who, and then made his bows to Skywarp and Thundercracker as the leaders of the Chaar Seekers.
"Good morning, brothers," he said. Soft as his voice might be, it was handsome and melodic.
"Good morning, Sunstorm," Thundercracker replied evenly, nodding to him. "I thought you were heading out today for some…" what had he called it yesterday? "…meditation and self-reflection?"
A small frown pulled at the edges of the Seeker's mouthplates. "Primus seems to have made other plans for me; the volcano I had planned on spending my orn on has erupted. There are lava pools everywhere. It will be a while before the area is cool enough to set down in again."
"That's unfortunate," Thundercracker said.
"For us," Acidstorm coughed quietly.
Sunstorm heard the other mech, glared in the scientist's direction, and then tipped his olfactory sensor in the air. "Not all of us can be gifted with your incredibly narrow-minded intellect, dear brother mine."
"And not all of us can have the talent to be so deluded as to believe in fairytales, dearest Sunstorm," Acidstorm replied in kind.
Skywarp and Thundercracker exchanged wry looks, not at all looking forward to being caught in the middle of yet another quarrel. Sunstorm and Acidstorm were perhaps the worst matched pair of Seekers ever to team up together. One was a scientist with a penchant for chemistry and a grounded belief that all things in reality can and must be scientifically proven, while the other was a philosopher and a devout member of an old, small sect of Cybertronians believing in the infallibility of Primus. Not that it had always been just the two of them; they had once been part of a trine with a femme called Quatra. She had been shot down some vorns ago, with neither surviving trine member coming to terms with her death very well. They blamed each other and weren't above tormenting each other as punishment.
To cut the inevitable argument off before it began, Thundercracker rose from his seat to intercede between the two. He laced an arm around Sunstorm's narrow shoulders and forcibly turned him away. "Tell me, Sunstorm, have you heard from the border patrols?"
"What? Oh, yes." He rattled off a number of reports that had recently come in, none of which held anything particularly interesting. Some were simple matters of weather conditions and recent eruptions across their geologically active planet, and others were off-planet reports of possible Decepticon splinter groups encroaching on their territory. At the end of Sunstorm's recital, Thundercracker exchanged yet another look with Skywarp. The darker mech frowned, shrugged, and the announced,
"Nothing we can do about the weather around here, but we can send out a few teams to warn off the other 'Cons. We don't need that kind of slag here right now. We have enough to deal with as it is." His optics flickered to Starscream for a moment.
Sunstorm bowed. "I'll send our best fliers out as soon as possible."
Acidstorm peered over his shoulder, looking hopeful. "Will you be leaving now for the task?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I did come here with a purpose," Sunstorm replied with a sniff.
"Other than to annoy the slag out of me?"
"That's merely a bonus," sniffed the golden Seeker. "Since I was not able to go to the mountains, I believe I am meant to be here for Starscream. I have a feeling that today will be the orn that he onlines." From his subspace pockets, he procured several familiar items, among them being 13 roughly carved totems and a large round sphere of silver carved to look like Cybertron.
"You've been saying that every orn you come in here," Skywarp sighed, picking up one of the old totems and turning it over in his hands. He wasn't that familiar with the old stories of Cybertron, so he had no idea who the little carving was supposed to be of. Like most, he had little faith in Sunstorm's crazy philosophies.
"One of these orns, I will be right," assured the golden Seeker, plucking the figurine of The Wise One away from Skywarp. "These things, they take time and faith. We have to be patient. Starscream will come back to us when our Maker decides, not before." The Wise One was set down amongst his brethren. The totems weren't at all necessary to be in the room, but they added the right kind of ancient ambiance. Plus, it bothered the slag out of Acidstorm whenever the carvings of the Original 13 transformers were dragged out.
"For spark's sake, Sunstorm, stop getting their hopes up with all that slag," Acidstorm predictably grouched. "He's in a coma, not floating around on some rainbow cloud. He can reboot at any time with or without you chanting in his audio receptors. Whatever you're doing, it's not going to help worth a damn."
"Says the brittle spark of a non-believer," Sunstorm countered tersely.
"No, says the educated mind of an ex-Advisor to the Straxis research core," Acidstorm retorted. "What Starscream needs is science. If he were online right now, he'd agree. Science is what is keeping him alive and science is what's going to bring him back online, not magic."
"For the thousandth time, it's not magic," Sunstorm snapped, looking insulted by the use of the term. "Starscream may have been as narrow-minded as you, but that does not mean Primus has exempted either of you from his flock. I, for one, will not give up my faith simply because you say I'm wrong. I will continue to help Starscream my way." He moved to light the small scraps of incense he had traded for on an organic planet. The incense, like the totems, were not necessary, but they smelled better than the sulphur-rich atmosphere of Chaar and they did wonders for his trine mate's disposition.
"You light those things in my presence and I am gone," Acidstorm hissed, glaring at the tiny broken sticks his wingmate was about to light with the tip of his heated nullray. Of all the half-bit, stupid things Sunstorm had done in the past…
"All the more reason to light them," Sunstorm replied smugly. With a soft crackle, the incense was lit and their perfumed essence was sent wafting through the room.
A little desperate to have something to do, Skywarp wandered around to the opposite side of the berth. He peered up at Sunstorm, deciding to shed his mantle as the leader of Chaar Seekers in order to be the brother who wanted nothing more than Starscream to come back. "Is there anything I can do this time?"
Sunstorm smiled warmly, happy to have some company. "Have a little faith," he offered.
"You'll have to give me some pointers," Skywarp said unsurely, gazing about at the foreign ritual objects strew about. "Is there something specific you do?" He flicked a totem. "Do I talk to these things?"
"If you like. I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Sunstorm assured. He perused the selection of 13 before choosing the right one for the task. "This is the Guardian of Space and Time; wherever Starscream's mind might be, whether trapped within his frame or out there somewhere-," he gestured vaguely around the room, "this one will know, and perhaps he'll help."
"Sure…" Skywarp shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, staring down at the little carving. What was he supposed to say to a dumb chunk of metal? 'Please bring Starscream back online- I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.' …That sounded stupid even in his head. He turned an imploring look on Thundercracker, who backed up a step and shook his head.
"No way."
"Please?" Skywarp pressed.
"If anyone finds out…" the navy-blue mech whined.
"They won't. No one will say anything," Skywarp assured, sending a potent glare in Acidstorm's direction to let the Seeker know just how badly he'd be beaten into the ground if he said anything to anyone.
"Whatever," snorted the acid-green Seeker.
"Fine, I'll do it," Thundercracker relented, joining them around the berth.
"You three have lost your minds," Acidstorm huffed. He swung on his heel and marched for the bench beneath the window.
"Leave, then," Sunstorm relied curtly.
The scientist's optics narrowed. "Last time I left, you painted Starscream up like he was some gaudy mural on the side of a building. I'm not letting you vandalize my coma patient again, so I'm staying right here whether you like it or not."
"You stubborn, narrow-minded, little-!" Sunstorm cut himself off in order to drag in a deep, calming draft of incense-laden air. When next he spoke, he was forcibly calm. "I did not vandalize him, you cretin; those were sigils from the Allspark! Now if you'll excuse us, we have something important to see to." He snapped his attentions back to Starscream, ignoring his wingmate's patent glare burning a hole through the back of his head.
"So," said the golden Seeker after a moment's tense silence, "I'll open with a few words." His low, melodic voice turned to a musical whisper as he began murmuring in an old, extinct dialect of Cybertronian. The chirps and whistles were soft and trilling while the hums haunted the air like ghosts; he was possibly one of the last fluent speakers of the dialect, learned and preserved through his studies of ancient Cybertronian lore and, strangely enough, through a bartender in a place called Mac's who happened to be fluent in it. While Sunstorm spoke, his fingers traced sigils from the Allspark over Starscream's head.
Skywarp watched the progress of the other Seeker's fingers with a certain degree of jealousy, wishing he could remember enough of the Allspark to copy the sigils. He'd only gotten to see the Cube once on the orn he'd been sparked Those memories were ancient now, eroded by time. Unable to doodle like Sunstorm was, Skywarp instead chose to write in regular glyphs the message he wanted Starscream to hear- please wake up- please wake up- please wake up.
Thundercracker, noting his wingmate's activity, did the same with his own message- be okay- be okay- be okay- be…you know what? Just come online already. You were always such a Drama Prime; I bet you're doing this on purpose. Starscream, I swear, if you don't snap out of this soon, you're going to drive me slaggin' crazy. Do you have any idea how long Skywarp and I have been waiting for you to come back- Thundercracker looked up when he realized Sunstorm had stopped murmuring and was looking up expectantly at the two of them.
"Well?" prompted the golden Seeker, "Is there anything you'd like to say?"
"To who?" Skywarp wondered unsurely. He looked to the totem he'd been given, leaning away from it as it continued to stare at him.
"Anyone," Sunstorm said, placing a hand over his chest. "Say anything to anyone, so long as it's from your spark."
Thundercracker coughed discreetly, having already taken his turn addressing Starscream with his thoughts.
When neither Seeker could find the courage to speak up, Sunstorm deflated a bit, but pressed on determinedly. "Okay, I'll say a few things." He straightened up, pausing to gather the right words, and thus began with, "I would hope to call upon the mercies of Primus to help all of us in our lives. I hope to continue to be watched over through my own personal dilemmas, and I ask that Skywarp and Thundercracker be given strength while dealing with the health of their brother, and I would also ask a special favour to grant understanding and open-mindedness to the non-believer in our presence who has a spark like a stone-,"
"Cute, Sunstorm," Acidstorm growled from the background.
Sunstorm smirked a little, continuing, "-most of all, I would hope, dear Primus, that you would find it in you spark to look out for our friend, brother, and wingmate Starscream, whose mind is sadly not with us. I hope that it is within your will to return Starscream's mind to what it was in the same way his frame has been restored." He finally trailed off, smiling softly.
"That's it?" Skywarp asked, frowning a bit.
"That's it," Sunstorm replied. "You're welcome to say something of your own if you want. I'm sure Primus would be happy to hear from you. You are Starscream's trinemates, after all."
"You really want me to say something, don't you?" When Sunstorm nodded eagerly, Skywarp relented pathetically. "Fine. I'll try." He meet Starscream's sightless gaze, squeezing his brother's hand. "Okay, Primus, look, here's the score: Thundercracker and I, we want Starscream back. We like being in charge and all of the Seekers here, but everything we've done was really for when Starscream came back. He can be kind of stuck up, and yeah, he's a major slag-head when he wants to be, but he's still a part of our trine. All we want is for him to be okay. I… don't know if you're real or not, or if you're even bothering to listen, but if you do happen to be real and you are listening, we- Thundercracker and I- would really appreciate it if you helped Starscream."
"Ditto," Thundercracker piped in.
"That was very lovely," Sunstorm said quietly. "I will close with a few more words, if you don't mind. I wouldn't want to take up too much of Acidstorm's precious time."
Acidstorm snorted.
Quickly leading through another song, or hymn, or whatever it was he was saying in that old dialect, Sunstorm drew his last sigils and closed the small session. Feeling particularly expectant of something miraculous to happen, the three mechs stayed where they were and watched Starscream's motionless frame. They lasted all of a few short breems before they realized nothing special was about to happen. When Thundercracker could take no more, he turned away, scrubbing a hand over his faceplate.
"That was useless," he sighed, making his way for the door.
Skywarp opened his mouthplates to call his trinemate back, but sadly lost the words before they could be said. Thundercracker was right; burning weeds, lumpy carvings, and pretty words didn't bring bots out of comas. Who were they kidding? With a shake of his head, he walked away. The idea of a nice, long flight sounded pretty good right that breem. Catch a strong updraft and drift away for a couple joors...
Sunstorm's own spark plummeted, having been so sure that something would happen. Grinding the burning incense to dust, he swept it to the floor. The room was far too stifling now. He didn't have the spark to collect up his totems, so he left them to Acidstorm's mercy as he turned for a quick departure. By the door, his wing was caught by a light touch.
"I'm sorry it didn't work," Acidstorm said quietly. "Maybe… maybe next time?"
Sunstorm nodded sullenly, turning so that he could wrap his arms around his wingmate for a hug. Acidstorm returned the hug with a soothing back rub. While they may have had their differences, they cared for each other when it really mattered. They only parted when a light clatter of metal caught their attention. The tarnished ball of silver that represented Cybertron had rolled off the berth, now rolling past their feet, out the door, along the balcony until it rolled onto the landing pad to tap Skywarp in the foot before the Seeker took off.
"Huh?" Picking it up, Skywarp glanced to the other two Seekers. "Drop this?"
Sunstormed looked immensely befuddled as he shook his head in the negative.
"Oh." On a curious whim, Skywarp wandered to the entrance of the med bay to peer in again. He was in time to watch as Starscream's arm twitched violently enough to knock the carving of the Guardian of Space and Time from the berth.
"Starscream?" Skywarp breathed, optics widening. "Thundercracker, quick! It's Starscream! I think he's coming online!"
"What? Starscream?" Winging around sharply, Thundercracker transformed in midair so that he hit the med bay's landing pad at a jog. The small flock of Seekers who had come down from the clouds to speak with their leader also heard Skywarp's call and instantly descended in Thundercracker's wake. Seeing the small group heading down, several more curious Seekers were drawn in. In turn, a small flock of Seekers roosting on the rocks outside their main base quickly followed the commotion to see what was happening. They, of course, called to the rest so that nearly every Seeker within shouting distance was crowding in, around, under, and on top of the med bay. Good news was often hard to come by on Chaar, so any little thing tended to draw a crowd. Anything to do with Starscream drew everyone.
Thundercracker shoved his way into the med bay, pushing passed the stunned Sunstorm and Acidstorm. He came in time to witness Starscream's most violent twitch yet, knocking all the other totems to the floor. "Is he really?"
"Yes!" Skywarp whooped.
Starscream's vents cycled, stuttered, and then hacked a wretched cough. His optics flickered with dim light as they slowly came on.
"Starscream? Starscream!" Skywarp cried excitedly, scooping his arms beneath his brother to help him sit up. "You're awake! How do you feel! Acidstorm, get over here! Take a look at him!"
"Praise Primus!" Sunstorm exclaimed delightedly.
Upon the noise of the golden Seeker, Starscream's optics flashed to full brightness. "Primus?" he murmured confusedly. "What?"
"All of you, stop nattering like a flock of half-bits!" Acidstorm ordered to the growing crowd of excited Seekers jostling in the doorway and in the windows. They didn't stop jostling, though they were wise enough to quiet down. Acidstorm himself swooped in to take inventory of Starscream's vitals. They were stable, though a little on the weak side. He laid a hand to the side of Starsceram's head, tilting the Seeker's confused faceplate up, peering into his glazed optics.
"How are you feeling?" the acid-green Seeker enquired carefully, turning his patient one way, and then the other. When the other Seeker failed to reply, he then asked, "Do you understand what I am saying?"
Starscream blinked slowly, processing the question. Skywarp leaned into his range of vision, Thundercracker not from his side. Recognition finally fell into place. Like a spaceship hitting him at full speed, Starscream's mind finally caught up with the rest of him. He gasped, arched, and with a pair of arms that were surprisingly strong after having lain inert for so long, he grasped his wingmates tight and dragged them close.
"I have to go back," he howled hoarsely, his optics wide and wild as if he were out of his mind.
"To where?" Skywarp wondered, trapped helpless in his brother's vice-like grip.
"Earth!"
"What? Why?" Thundercracker demanded, reeling back from the sudden panic hitting him. To the periphery, Acidstorm leapt into action gathering an injector and sedative to ease Starscream back down. It seemed the coma had left some mental damages after all.
"I have to go back! We're all in danger…!" The Seeker exclaimed desperately.
There was a cold prick in one of his exposed energon lines, and then Starscream was silent and still once again.
The thing that was believed to be Megatron's corpse was not to be stopped by any means as it headed into the stratosphere and beyond. Into the cold reaches of space, it felt nothing. Even the ice that formed in his dried out energon lines from condensed water vapour in Earth's atmosphere was shaken off as a mere annoyance. His thrusters worked steadily to release him from the stranglehold of Earth's gravity. He would not be stopped by the will of some mudball organic planet nor any inhabitant of such a pitiful place.
Even the vexing beast trapped in his grasp was no hindrance, though she was a wretched annoyance as she howled, kicked, and clawed. She was a small morsel, but the rage and horror that radiated from her was befitting a creature several times her size. Her presence alone was enough to supply him with a bounty of negative energy to feed from. That mere fact was enough to keep her as a prize rather than throw her down to burn up in Earth's atmosphere.
Flamewar, for her part, would have rather taken her chances in the atmosphere.
Once fully immersed in the vacuum of space, Megatron's risen corpse was fortunate enough to not have to wait long. He was quickly indulged by the ever fickle demon-ship hiding out of sight in the nothingness. There was no flame that greeted him; this time, only a brief ripple of the stars alluded to the veiled monster, and then the veil was pulled aside only a little to reveal a gaping blackness that was colder than any grave. A great gasp of frigid air drew him into the depths. This was no place fit for any sane spark to be, but the thing in Megatron's frame had no spark, and it found itself welcomed into the void as if coming home.
There was nothing for any mortal to see in anti-space. There were no stars. No natural light. No warmth. But for something not mortal at all, there was much to take in. One inescapable detail was the fact that the darkness around them had mass, and soon coalesced into the shape of a ship surrounding them. It was a very large ship, and since it had materialized around them, Flamewar and Megatron's corpse had failed to see the ancient glyphs labelling the demon-ship as Psi. Not that a name would make the ship any less terrifying or huge.
Stark grey light appeared out of nowhere, hanging in the air without a definitive source; it was not any kind of light made in the natural world, but a form of lighter darkness that was thin enough to see through. Bizarre as it was, the light held a palpable presence; the feel of it against their armour was cold and oily, solid like a dense fog slipping into every crack in their metal. The strange light revealed a soaring hangar whose ceiling was so high that it was obscured into shadow while its four walls were so far apart that even they did not even seem to exist.
All was as silent as the grave. Even Flamewar's shrieks gave way to dead silence.
Standing under the weight of unseen optics watching them, the living and the risen were forced to wait. What they were waiting for was unclear to Flamewar, who perceived only nothingness around her and was so out of her mind with rage, agony, and terror that any detail was lost on her. Her companion, on the other hand, appeared well aware of someone, or something, coming, and was prepared to wait for it.
It was not long until a steady pattern caught their audios, announcing a set of coming footsteps. Whether the figure was living or otherwise was yet to be determined. It was a while longer yet of listening to the eerie tattoo before a small dot of yellowed light appeared in the gloom, bobbing as the figure walked closer. A large mech slowly coalesced, his single yellow optic fixed upon them in such a single-minded manner so as to be disturbing. He stood much taller than Megatron, in a frame that was of no Cybertronian construction. It was a disturbing amalgam of science and metallurgy without any hint of conscious aesthetics. The paint was the exact shade of classic malevolent deep-violet that represented the Decepticons.
Behind the mech came several noiseless drones in the form of hovercrafts. Three transformed, becoming as unassuming as the shadows as they lurked in the gloom away from the small crowd.
Flamewar hissed, her horror renewed as she recognized the make of the drones. They were the drones the Mastermind had often sent to contract a deal with the Darksyde. And if those were Mastermind's drones, then this had to be the Mastermind's lair. The aberration of a mech that loomed before them could only have been the Mastermind himself. Every curiosity and nightmare Flamewar had ever had about who or what the Mastermind could have been suddenly became nothing compared to the truth. As she met the blazing gaze of that single burning yellow optic, she knew this creature was more monster than mech.
"Shockwave."
Shockwave sized up his intruders with detached calculation. He was not overtly aggressive, nor even actively aloof. He simply stared down at them as if they were specimens smeared under a microscope to be surveyed and quantified. The only noise made was the disturbing whir of the mech's single optic as it adjusted itself, wider, smaller, brighter, dimmer. He determined that one intruder was a femme whose identity was catalogued as Flamewar, ex-Commander of the Femme Division of the Decepticons, recently a mercenary; she no longer bore the marks that would denote her function, so it was unclear what she was now. Her altered spark resonance revealed her as bonded. Her companion, however, was much more difficult to comprehend. Though the frame had all the appearances of Megatron, there was no spark resonance to confirm it. The energy that did radiate from the being was curiously negative, not unlike the energy Psi was prone to radiating. What differed between this grey-plated mech and the giant demon-ship was that the power output of the mech that far exceeded anything Shockwave had ever witnessed before.
The walls and floor of the ship shifted and quivered, vibrating wildly. Not a stranger to Psi's moods, Shockwave understood this as excitement, though could not fathom the source. The ship had seen countless Cybertronians dragged aboard; the sight of two more victims did not seem worth the effort at all.
Megatron's optics flashed as he too seemed to understand the mood of the ship. In fact, he knew the moods of the ship much better than anyone else present.
"Announce yourself," Shockwave stated.
"I am your lord and master," Megatron said. Though he was physically shorter than the other, his presence seemed to swell in the darkness until he could loom over Shockwave. "Submit to this."
Shockwave did not even blink in the face of such a claim. "There is no proof that you are my lord."
"My word is proof."
"Insufficient."
Psi rattled his floors in agitation, focusing the disturbance strongest around Shockwave's feet. The mech stumbled, much to the ship's satisfaction.
Megatron continued to stare darkly. As Shockwave rose to stand again, he pressed a claw to the center of the mech's yellow optic. A long scratch was made down the center, sinking into the crystal before disappearing again as quickly as it appeared. The light flickered for a moment, and then the optic swivelled several times, adjusting itself.
"I am your lord and master. Acknowledge this; submit to me," Megatron ordered once more.
Shockwave stood frozen for a breem, jerked straight, and then stiffly bowed to the risen corpse. "My lord."
Megatron let his satisfaction be known with a deep rumble, motioning for the other mech to rise.
Shockwave straightened accordingly. "This is unexpected. I had not anticipated your return… so soon."
"I am not done away with so easily."
"Of course, my lord." His flat gaze fell on Flamewar, who snarled like a caged animal. Without any inclination to the femme, he motioned forward two drones from the background and then addressed Megatron "Allow me to relieve you of that burden. She shall be put with the others."
Having forgotten about the femme he held captive, Megatron lifted the little spitfire to look her in the optic. She bristled and took a vicious swipe at his faceplate. Her usefulness to him was now gone, being that the nature of anti-space and proximity to Psi was enough to continue to energize him. He released her to the drones. Her previous vigour in struggling was renewed as she passed to her new keepers. Her needle-like armour gave her the initial advantage, shearing off the metal of the drones' hands, but they quickly adapted in order to subdue her. They were gone into the shadows quickly enough.
Shockwave suffered under the scrutiny of Megatron for a while longer, until the undead mech rumbled,
"Have you succeeded in your mission?"
"No."
Megatron's expression grew decidedly darker. "You have been given time and all the resources this ship has at its disposal, and still you fail me this one order?"
Shockwave inclined his head. "The task of arbitarily creating new, stable, sentient life forms without the use of the Allspark and Matrix is... difficult. The material I have been through has been unyielding at best; I have been through many trials and errors."
"Have you succeeded in anything?"
"I have discovered the upper limits of what a spark can endure before it is extinguished," replied Shockwave.
"I have discovered that for myself many times," Megatron intoned with some measure of impatience. "Have you anything of importance to report?"
Shockwave paused, gauging the other's tone, and then he said, "Perhaps you would be interested to hear what I have created?"
Megatron inclined his head to denote his interest.
"One hypothesis I have been working with is that an existing spark may be separated into two seperate entities, similar to the phenomenon of spark-split twins. I have been endeavouring to replicate the phenomenon in order to create entities without the defect of a default connection to each other. The stress of the procedure often terminates experimental applicants, but the fraction that survive have yielded rather unexpected consequences to the tampering," Shockwave said. "The creatures are all still under my power. If you wish to see them, my lord, I can take you." He half-turned with a shallow bow.
Megatron considered the offer for a moment, sizing Shockwave up once more. After a tense moment, he acquiesced with a dismissive gesture of his hand. "Lead on."
On Shockwave's heels, Megatron was taken through the curious halls of the demon-ship. It was undeniably a living ship with a mind of its own, if the shifting corridors and changing walls were not indication enough. Initially, it appeared that Psi playing some immensely cruel game with them, leading them on in a way so as to leave them hopelessly lost. Shockwave's outright demand for a cease of the foolishness only seemed to increase Psi's enjoyment at their expense. It was only when Megatron growled quietly and laid a hand to a wall that Psi finally allowed the pair straight passage to their destination.
A door formed out of shifting panels in a wall, hissing open to admit them. The room within was a solid wall of blackness until sourceless grey light flooded the cavern. The holding room Megatron stepped into was much like the hangar in height, its numerous floors soaring high above them, so huge that it was nigh-impossible to comprehend the size. But this room was different in the respect that it was far from empty.
Walking to the railing at the edge of the walkway, Megatron leaned out and gazed down, noting how deep the prison cells sunk. There were many levels to this room, and each level contained an endless line of prison cells shaped like cages. Many of the cells appeared to be occupied, but the occupants were not always identifiable...
"Interesting," Megatron noted.
"Come, there is much more to see." Knowing that the other would follow, Shockwave led the way to the nearest occupied cells. With an introductory gesture to the creatures therein, the mech announced, "These are the principal aberrations that constitute the majority of my failed experiments."
Megatron came abreast of the cell and peered in. There were two individual forms discernable in the gloom, one which gave off illumination on its own, and the other which appeared in deeper shadow than necessary. The energy-based being took a running start for the force field of the cell as if excited for the chance at company, only to quail under Megatron's gaze. It skidded to a halt in a shower of sparks, and then burst into a frenzy of movement, bouncing off the walls and floor. It emitted a high-pitched shriek as it did so, vaguely sounding like, "kremzeeeeeeeek!"
Its sudden action was like a call to the others in the large prison room. Each cell containing one of the little energy beings lit up with various shades of the rainbow as the cells' occupants began whizzing about in panic, screaming as they did so.
The second creature in the initial cell curled farther into the gloomy corner of its cage, averting its timid optics from Megatron's stare. Though it had the shape of a normal Cybertronian, the metal was a single shade of uniform dark-grey, coloured by the shadows encasing it. Unlike its crazed companion, this specimen appeared to draw light in rather than exude it. Its optics were as black as two slates of obsidian. It appeared every bit like a corpse, but was not.
When the screaming from the energy creatures got too much for the ship itself to handle, a great roar resounded through the air, followed by an intense wave of pressure. In that instant, the creatures quieted to meek little sparks flickering in the corners. Some hid behind their shadowed companions in some feeble hopes of protection.
"What have you created?" Megatron enquired amusedly, clearly interested in the aberrations.
"They are partially split sparks, my lord," Shockwave informed.
"Partial?" mused the undead mech.
"It is not a perfect split, since they are not fully conscious beings, nor are they truly separate from each other, but they are unique life forms nonetheless. The one that appears to be energy-based comes from the half of the spark that I have termed 'spark-major', constituting the majority of the spark's presence and energy. They appear to be capable of perpetual energy output without any noticeable need to convert outside energy or mass for the purpose. Their voltage can reach dangerously high levels; their potential use in offensive tactics is quite high. They show limited amounts of intelligence, and for an unknown reason, they call themselves 'kremzeeks'."
"And the other?"
"They are 'energy leeches'; they are formed from spark-minor, which consists of minor residual energy levels diffused throughout the frame. The leeches appear to be of opposite nature to that of the kremzeeks, in that they are constantly absorbing ambient energy around them. They require this energy to maintain themselves, or the initial spark-minor energy keeping them animated will dissipate. As far as I can tell, they have unlimited energy storage capacity." Shockwave gestured to the pair as a whole. "However, separation of spark-major from minor remains incomplete; there exists between the two a singular... life potential. If one is extinguished, the other will perish as well. In that respect, they are limited creatures."
"They are fascinating." For all the twisted things he had seen in the universes, these particular deviations were uniquely monstrous. They had potential for a great many things.
"Your approval is gratifying, my lord." Although, since it was Shockwave who was saying this, his sincerity in the matter was entirely worthless. He required no gratification save for his own success, and until he succeeded in his original mission, he would receive no such satisfaction. Nonetheless, he was required to act as host to his lord, lest he suffer ill-favour. "Do you wish to see the rest of what my experiments have yielded?"
Megatron leaned away and cast his darkly glinting optics about the cavern of endless cages. He then settled his gaze on his companion.
"No, I can tour this place on my own. Leave me," he ordered. He drew his claw down the force field, finding further amusement in how the captives within cringed away. Smart little things- they knew true danger when they saw it. "I will summon you if I have any more use for you."
"Very well." Shockwave was gone quickly enough, meaning to see to his own business which would have been taken care of before if he had not been interrupted by Megatron's arrival.
Though Shockwave's company was now gone, Megatron was well aware that he was not alone. It went beyond even the company of the mutilated forms inhabiting the room of endless cages. He was aware of a presence that lurked in every molecule of the dark ship. Far from being unnerved by it, Megatron was made impatient.
"Enough lurking in the shadows; I know you are there," called the mech, speaking to the general murk. The figure he was addressing would hear him regardless. "Come out, Psi."
A general silence hung in the wake of the request, and then a great sigh echoed through the cavernous room.
"I was having such fun being ignored by your lordship. Why ruin such fine disregard?" Psi replied airily, his voice echoing about with no hint of a source. The ship itself was speaking. "Please, do ignore me a little longer. It's not like I haven't spent the last eon trying to find you, and then bring you back online when I find out you've been made into a scrap heap. Such unwavering service must mean very little in these harsh times."
Megatron growled, dead optics roaming the gloom in clear warning. "I am in no mood to pander to you, you overgrown shuttle craft. Remember who you are addressing." To his satisfaction, he felt tension tighten the floors beneath his feet. When the ship next spoke, it was accordingly humbled- though the feeling of humbleness obviously chaffed the demon-ship. He was not the kind of creature to wear humbleness well.
"My… apologies," the Fallen murmured. "I could never forget who you are."
"Then materialize so that I may address you with greater ease."
"As you wish." A head peeled out from the nearest solid wall, amber optics glinting. It went unseen by mortal optics, but its presence was most certainly felt in the numbing chill that befell every cage. The energy leeches groaned their agony while the kremzeeks sparked wildly, their shrieks colliding in a cacophony. In short order, the rest of the Fallen's condensed consciousness peeled itself out of the wall, brushed itself off in a needlessly meticulous fashion, and then bowed accordingly.
"It pleases me to see you finally awakened," Psi said as he straightened.
"I'm sure it does."
The Fallen wrinkled his phantom olfactory sensor, letting the wry remark slip. This was not a creature he could be freely snide with. Instead, he canted his head and said evenly, "If I had known someone was going to wake you on their own, I wouldn't have tried so hard."
The dark light of Megatron's optics churned, flickering. Psi bowed his head shallowly, backing down a step.
"Of course, I am your most loyal servant, and am most pleased you are here now," said the demon-ship. "I would have awakened you myself if I had had a spark and frame to do so with." Sharp optics peered up, alight with curiosity. "If you would indulge me, what little pest was fool enough to wake you?"
"Does it matter? It was some scrap of metal already half-wasted before I got a hold of it," the monster drawled, flexing a clawed hand with indulgent luxury and danger. "It served its purpose. Nothing more."
"True enough," shrugged the Fallen.
The undead mech cast a superior gesture to himself. "I have wasted enough time lying dormant under Megatron's will; I am lord and master of this frame now."
Psi chuckled lowly, and his dark humour was reflected in the slight vibration that passed through the floors of his ship-body. "It will only be a matter of time before this whole universe bows to you, yes?"
"The end is nigh," mused the creature wearing Megatron's frame. It was only a matter of time before he would once again be able to savour the rich taste of whole worlds devoured.
"Poetry to my audios," Psi laughed in dark delight.
"Come," beckoned the revived Devourer of Worlds, his smile sharp and predatory. "There is much we have to discuss."
A small flicker of flame, and then Psi was at the monster's side with a look of poisonous glee lighting his twisted spectral features. "Whatever pleases you, Master."
No matter how hard she hit them, no matter how loud she screamed or how deep she put her hand through their frames, the drones kept moving. They were like forces of nature. They stopped for nothing. She hadn't stopped struggling for a moment since they had taken her, and she had only be able to fell one of them by getting her arm free and putting her claws straight into its cold processor. Unlike Megatron's corpse, their heads didn't grow back. Unfortunately, her effort was wasted. As the first one fell, two more drones came to take its place.
She felt hard hands catch her wrists. A cold, wild thrill rushed through her. They forced her hands together, slipping stasis cuffs over them. A jolt of electricity shot through her. She gave one last vicious spasm, kicking wildly. Her motor functions were then disabled. She went utterly limp in the drones' arms. Although still conscious and fully aware of all that was happening around her, she was unable to do anything about it.
As ineffectual as lint now, she was tossed over a single drone's shoulder and carted the rest of the way to her impending fate. The way she was being held prevented her from seeing anything but the shifting back of her drone captor. She could hear, though. Not that there was much to listen to besides the uniform pattern of drone footsteps, all in time to each other, perfectly measured, no step out of place. So... drone-like. Absolutely maddening. The longer she was forced to listen, the more deeply disturbed she became. Her sensors were gone; she had no chronometer, no proximity sensor, no spark resonance scanner. She had nothing.
Her spark screamed as her bond to Barricade was severed deeper with every step she was dragged farther away from him. Primus, it hurt more than she imagined it would. It was too soon still for a separation of this magnitude. Every second that passed was like rubbing white-hot sandpaper up and down her spark.
The drone carrying her stopped abruptly, letting Flamewar's frame bounce and jostle freely. She could hear the pneumatic hiss of a door opening. A cold draft washed over her, colder and deader than anything she had ever felt before. As they started walking forward again, her head was bounced to an angle that allowed her to see that there was nothing to see. Literally. Wherever they were, the room was nothing but a solid mass of black.
They stopped again none too gently. A brief flash of white light broke the monotony of darkness; a force field was let down. Many hands took hold of Flamewar and swung her down, restraining her frame was the stasis cuffs were removed. She erupted like a beast as motor control returned. She managed to ram her foot into someone's arm, dislocating the limb from the socket, before she was swung up again and thrown into the open cell.
Dust and grime and a thousand others things she couldn't see rose in the crash, clogging her vents. She snarled, twisted to her feet, and charged the specks of light that served as the drones' optics. The force field went up before she could reach them, too quickly for her to stop her momentum. She hit the field full force with a fury. The instantaneous feeling of white-hot agony shot through her neural circuits. A feedback loop from the impact rebound her to the opposite wall. She fell with a clatter and was left to spasm on the floor as the drones walked away.
In the wake of their departure, as soon as she got her heaving vents under control, Flamewar was aware of another noise in her cell that was not of her own making. It was a soft shuffling noise. While distant when she first noticed it, the source grew steadily closer. Though not directly threatening, it was a clumsy and morose noise that nonetheless made Flamewar wary. Nothing in this house of horrors was to be trusted.
"Who's there?!" the femme demanded, swinging to her feet to assume a fight-ready stance. It took a moment of raking the dark to see the lights at first, but when she realized she no longer heard shuffling, she realized that there were two white pinpricks hovering in front of her. Her shock caused her to recoil, tripping over the debris on the floor. Her optics shuttered automatically, exposing Flamewar to the brutal flames that marked the demon-ship as a damned one. Within the flames she spotted a sorry creature broken down to nothing but her bolts and wire. It looked half dead already.
What was most curious about the creature was that it looked at Flamewar as if she were the one to be more pitied.
Snapping her optics open to the blank slate of darkness, the Decepticon swung to her feet and assumed another fight-ready stance.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
Her companion canted its head, made obvious by the tilt of its glowing optics, pondered the question for a moment, and then softly answered, "I am Elita One."
Flamewar paused, shuttering her optics in a quick succession to get a better impression of the other bot; the frame was femme height, and vaguely of femme build. Even the voice, though distorted, was familiar.
When Flamewar said nothing, Elita took the initiative to speak freely. "I'm sorry you ended up here. This place… is not a good place to be."
"I can tell that for myself, thanks," Flamewar grunted. "Are you really Elita One?"
"I am... or at least I'm pretty sure I am," sighed the femme, shaking her head. "If I knew you once, I'm sorry again for not remembering. I've been here for quite a while, you see. Everything is a blur right now..."
"Primus…" Flamewar found her arms dropping to her sides, her back hitting the cold wall behind her. This is what had become of Elita One of the Autobots? She might not have been the greatest fighter Flamewar had ever faced, but Elita had had a great and terrible mind when it came to choreographing raids and battle plans. The two femme commanders had had a cold respect for each other that most Decepticons and Autobots lacked for their counterparts.
Elita sighed again. "I haven't even asked your designation," she said with sorry self-admonishment. "That's one of the things that's hardest to remember; so many bots come through here, but they all become numbers…You don't get many chances to ask for a designation."
"Elita, I'm Flamewar," Flamewar cut in, afraid that the other femme would lose herself in her own mind if she was allowed to ramble for too long. "You knew me. We've fought several times."
"Flamewar," Elita repeated, testing the designation. "It sounds familiar, but I can't place from where. Sorry."
"No, that's… alright. Let it go. You've been through enough as it is." She couldn't think of anything else to say. There was no honour or satisfaction in starting a fight with Elita here; the femme was barely standing up as it was, and to waste energy on something so petty would be stupid. Instead, Flamewar slid to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest. She could feel her spark wither and writhe as it suffered separation from Barricade, but she didn't dare give into the pain. She couldn't afford to. She was stronger than that.
Elita slid to the floor next to Flamewar, carefully examining the ruby-red optics floating in the dark. "How did you get here?" she wondered softly.
"Megatron… came back," Flamewar replied tightly. "We thought he was dead, but then Virus interfaced with him, and then- I don't know, he sucked her dry. I don't even think it was really Megatron. It had to be something else. It didn't matter what we threw at him, he wouldn't go down. And now I'm here- wherever here is."
"You're inside the Fallen," Elita supplied sadly. "Everything you knew about that old legend-," which wasn't much for Flamewar, who hadn't known much beyond the city-centre and territory of Kaon before the war, "-is true. You're inside a monster. Shockwave uses this place for his experiments, but the ship itself- it just likes to hurt people."
"He's not going to hurt me," Flamewar declared. "I won't be here long enough to let him."
Elita blinked curiously. "Oh?"
Flamewar snorted, mouthplates curling. "I'm either going to figure out how to break the frag out of here, or the others are going to come for me. Barricade won't leave me up here; he'll do whatever it takes, even if he has to go to Optimus Prime for help."
Elita's optics flashed bright. "Did you just say Optimus? Optimus Prime?"
"Yeah." Flamewar blinked, realizing exactly who she was talking to; Elita One was bonded to Optimus Prime. How could she have forgotten? "You didn't know he was so close, did you?"
There was new light in Elita's optics as the funny and long-forgotten sensation of hope hit her. "No, how could I? I've been trapped in here for so long… I've felt him, but I thought- well, I didn't know. Is he close? How close?"
"We're hovering right above Earth," Flamewar said. "Barely outside the atmosphere."
"Hovering right above…" Elita fell back, dazed. "He's that close? He's so close!"
"He doesn't know you're up here," Flamewar intoned. "If he did, I doubt he would have wasted so much time doing nothing."
Two hands shot out and grasped Flamewar's.
"I have to tell him," Elita exclaimed breathlessly, sounding madly lost in the sudden tide of hope that flooded her. Her audios were ringing with voices and the loud rushing of her spark and energon. She didn't care what she had to do or how hard she had to resist the Fallen to do it, "I have to tell Optimus I'm here."
