Shoot. Roll. Aim. Shoot. Turn—
And see the whole of his function rewind right before him as a drone aims right at his helm—
Optimus doesn't have the time to reboot his optics before his attacker falls to the ground without having shot its weapon.
When he turns to Megatron, though, he finds the Decepticon leader staring in confusion around him, and a look is all the Autobot needs to know the reason for it.
All the drones are falling down, deactivated, without rhyme or reason.
Ah, no, not all. About two thirds of them.
That's more than enough.
::Optimus, Blaster here. Spectro contacted to say they found the off switch for the drones. Has it worked?::
::Indeed it has. Though not all are down.:: The blue and red mech answers, smiling under his no longer familiar battle mask, as he helps gun down the remaining active enemies.
::Yeah, he said each mothership has its own set of drones. They captured one, an ally—and, you won't believe this, it's Cyclonus—went to another, and Starscream got the third. Looks like one is still—::
"Wait, Starscream and Cyclonus aren't the same mech?" He cuts, lifting his riffle so as to not accidentally shoot anyone, and attracting Megatron's attention.
::No, Cyclonus is Quintesson-created. And so are Galvatron and another. Apparently, they used some of our mechs as models, which is why Jazz confused Cyclonus with Starscream.:: Blaster explains, and the relief in his voice is as easily heard as it is seen in the Decepticon's faceplate when he relies that information. ::Oh, and they found the missing mechs, the ones that were still missing, that is. Turns out, none were taken to the Quintesson home world. And Prowl says if you don't send someone to retrieve Hound right now, he's going to rip your plating off piece by piece with his own claws.::
Optimus shudders at that, his armor pressing closer to the struts in a defensive reaction, while Megatron stares in curiosity.
Until he realizes just what he heard.
"Did you say Hound? Are you sure you don't mean Huffer?"
Blaster laughs.
::That's exactly what I asked! But, no, they do mean Hound. Apparently, they had him 'posing' as a scientist while he was actually being used as a sample for them to study his scanning suit. He's having a 'hissy fit', according to Jazz.:: The Cassette Carrier answers, snickering softly, and Optimus shakes his helm with a smile, relaxing.
"Alright, send someone to retrieve them. Do we have the coordinates of the motherships?"
::Just got them. I'm going to—Aw, slag!::
And all laughter and calm and the growing hope that it was over vanish faster than the Autobot leader's smile.
"Blaster?"
::Sir, I'm sending Astrotrain to your position. I need you and Megatron to get onboard, he'll have the coordinates of your objective. Apparently, Starscream decided to storm the most heavily guarded mothership alone.::
After thanking the Communications Officer and putting the comm in standby, Optimus fills Megatron in while they wait for the Triple Changer.
The gunmetal gray mech only sighs in resignation.
"I swear, if he doesn't get deactivated this time, I'm going to shoot him through the spark chamber."
The reproaching look the blue and red mech gives his companion is as useless as a mosquito against a Cybertronian.
Not that he was expecting it to be different.
The ride is quick once they finally get into Astrotrain and, to their initial surprise and growing suspicion, uneventful.
Until a hole is blown into the bay of the mothership to allow the Triple Changer and his passengers access to the vessel.
"Well, well, well. Took you long enough, handsome. The party is over." A matte black and slightly changed Elita One salutes, a gun resting on a shoulder plate and a cocky smile on her faceplate as soon as they get in the Shuttle bay, feeling all her sensors roam over Optimus' frame.
A wave of drones burst through a door before he can reboot his processor to think an answer, and shooting begins again, having the effect of forcing all Cybertronian together behind a wall of deactivated parts.
"Almost over. Hey there, Megs. How are you doing?" She adds, giving a spare gun to an almost completely immobile Springer, who is straining to turn around, while Hot Rod reinforces their refuge.
"It seems my luck decreases by the nanoklik." Megatron answers with a snarl, fusion cannon singing as he discharges shot after shot on the drones. "First my Second tries to get himself deactivated again and now I have to deal with you again."
"Life's a funny thing, isn't it?" The formerly red mech, now as black as all the other Military Cybertronian, snickers, though he quickly turns away at the warlord's glare. "Commander went that way, though he didn't exactly explain. What the Pit is—?"
With a roar, a really distinctive Tetrajet blazes through the hole the Triple Changer opened in the hull, maneuvering efficiently in the close space while transforming and shooting drones down.
When Cyclonus' pedes touch the ground, none of the latest wave of attackers still function.
"I guess that confirms you are truly on our side." Megatron lets out, standing up from behind their cover without a worry, and the horned Seeker just turns around and nods.
"How about we discuss the specifics later? We need to find Ree—Starscream before Galvatron turns him into a fusion blast scorch mark against a wall. And we need to stop Judge Kledji from sending word back to Quintessa or putting some emergency plan in action." The Quintesson-created mech answers, formal and proper, but obviously nervous, to the point he's fidgeting slightly, though not clearly visible if it wasn't because of the careful look the red and blue mech is keeping on him.
"Optimus, take our mechs and evacuate the ship, and call the others and have them emptied too." The Decepticon leader orders, and, for a moment, the Prime almost wants to disobey.
But, it's the right choice, and an obvious one at that, because who knows just what their once-Masters could be planning now?
So, no, better the motherships be empty, even if nothing happens and they have to come back at a later time to find some use for them once this is over, rather than have their mechs disappear.
Again.
But, before that…
"Elita, could you—?"
"Leave it in my servos." The Femme answers before he can finish, giving him a smile before she turns to order an annoyed Astrotrain around, easily taking care of the evacuation.
"Megatron, I—"
"No, you're not coming with me. No, you can't help, you'll be more useful out there, taking care of everyone. They will need a leader should we fail. And I am a far better fighter than you could ever be." The Tread Roller cuts, listing the answers to the unvoiced questions with an almost emotionless and automatic tone, and Optimus finds himself surprised despite everything else.
And insulted.
"I am at least as good a fighter as you are." He protests, arms crossed against his chest plates, and Megatron snorts.
"I have thicker plating."
Silence.
"Point." He concedes with a nod, slipping away his battle mask to give his friend a smile. "Need I wish you luck?"
"Keep it for yourself. You'll need it more than we will." The Decepticon leader answers cockily, and, with a nod, they part ways.
Optimus can only hope he's right.
It is extremely uncomfortable and almost impossibly awkward to be running through the Quintessa's corridors, though not so much for the running than due to who is running with him.
He expected Megatron to be more imposing than Galvatron, being the mech the latter was modeled after, and thus older and more experienced, but…
Megatron is far more than imposing.
He can finally see why Starscream respects him so much, even if he's been in his presence for barely more than five minutes, and only one of those was spent listening to him, albeit he was just ordering the other Cybertronian around.
Which says a lot about the mech.
However, he can't let his doubts and discomfort at the Tread Roller's presence get to him, for he doesn't need only his companion's presence, but also his fighting ability.
… Not that he has any doubts about it, especially after seeing him move.
He may not know as much as any other Cybertronian due to him being younger and far less experienced, but he knows enough to recognize an expert fighter just by seeing the way they stand, walk and run.
Plus, he carries a really large fusion cannon attached to his arm.
And I thought Galvatron's was big…
They round a corner and all of Cyclonus' thoughts stop.
There are frames on the floor, known frames, frames of those he cares for, and another hovering over them—
"Cyclonus! You're finally—Who in the name of the Masters is that?!" Scourge squeaks, jerking back as soon as Megatron rounds the corner, while both Starscream and Galvatron turn to the newcomers from what he now recognizes as calmly sitting positions against the walls, one in front of the other.
"That, my badly misinformed Shuttle, is my leader." The other Seeker purrs, standing up and stretching, all the while ignoring the purple Tread Roller's glare.
"Will you release me from this binding spell now?" The larger mech snarls, and, stunned as he is, the horned Cybertronian jumps at the snort of laughter at his back, having all but forgotten about his companion.
Megatron gives him the briefest glance, thoroughly amused, before calmly walking by the embarrassed Seeker's side towards his Second in Command.
"Null-ray?" As answer, Starscream simply lifts a slightly dented and scratched servo to show the tendrils of electricity coursing between his clawed dactyls. "You devious mech… About time I remembered why I kept you so close." The Flier chuckles, waving his servo in an exaggerated flourish before bending at the waist. "Oh, quit your dramatics, Starscream. We still have work to do. Before that, though…"
And, just when Cyclonus was calming down, Megatron aims his right arm at the still immobile Galvatron—and his fusion cannon lights up with an almost inaudible but clearly felt hum.
"No!"
A loud clanging fills the corridor.
Silence.
"Really? You resort to slapping now?"
"You didn't deserve more."
Cyclonus reboots his optics, and so do Scourge and Galvatron, but the scene is still the same.
Until Starscream tilts his helm up, as if daring his leader to repay the slap to the shoulder plate he received from the Seeker, his fusion cannon once more inactive and a deadpan on his faceplate.
However, Megatron just makes a swapping gesture towards the Flier's helm that ends with a stumbled step back to evade the hit and a squeak.
"Should I assume you already 'convinced' our friends to see things our way?"
"They convinced themselves. I just had to tell them you would be more than willing to spar with them and let them blow up all the drones they wished if they obeyed a set of far less restrictive rules than those imposed by the Quintessons." Starscream answers, crossing his arms against his chest plates and turning to grumble something under his breath that Cyclonus chooses not listen to.
"Well, not exactly, and he told us about what the Mast—the Quintessons are really planning, too…" Scourge adds timidly, shrinking into himself when Megatron turns to him. "And I didn't really agree but I don't want to follow some slavers and I guess I could follow you and—"
"Scourge." Cyclonus cuts, trying to keep his exasperation at bay and knowing his friend will berate himself later if he lets him continue his embarrassing stuttering. "We can talk about that after we deal with this."
"Sure." The Shuttle squeaks, smiling sheepishly.
"Right." Megatron deadpans, before turning serious and pointing from the mobile mech to the one on the floor. "You, take this incompetent to the bay to evacuate the ship. Cyclonus, take us to—"
"This what?!" Galvatron roars, and the Seeker almost jumps away to avoid the Tread Roller's ire, only deterred by the fact his Wing leader can't move an inch.
"Incompetent. Seeker or not, you should have known better than to engage Starscream in close quarters." The gunmetal gray mech deadpans, his gaze so cold that it's almost depreciating.
"Don't be too harsh on him, Megatron. He thought he was dealing with Steve Reeds." The black Cybertronian answers, though he's preening visibly at his leader's words.
"My opinion stands. Cyclonus, the bridge, now. And you… Be ready for some intensive lessons in fighting once this is over."
Whatever protest Galvatron was about to throw back dies at those words, his whole visage lighting up in eagerness.
So, leaving Scourge to awkwardly maneuver their Wing leader off the floor, Cyclonus resumes their run to the 'civilian' part of the mothership and, after blowing a hole in the door separating the two areas, towards the bridge, with Starscream and Megatron updating each other about recent events as they calmly deal with any and all resistance they encounter.
It's really humbling for the Quintesson-created mech to see such a thing, because he knows he's not experienced or good enough to be able to shoot or rip a mech—drone, actually—apart while holding such a mundane conversation without one of the two being affected by the other.
That may have something to do with the teamwork exhibited by the older mechs, though.
A well-oiled machine would pale against their flawless battle dance, if it was able to do such a thing.
Cyclonus only hopes he and his Wing will, one day, be capable of such feats in the defense of their own world.
Huh, that sounded weird. Not wrong, but… weird.
So, shaking the thought out of his processor, he turns into the corridor that will guide them to their destination, and engages the first of a wave of drones pouring out of the control room.
And, as soon as they are done with the puny resistance and rush through the open door of the bridge, they get tackled by giant guardian drones, and a lot of cursing and fighting back ensues.
On Starscream and Megatron's side, that is, because the horned mech is helped back to his pedes by the very robot that assaulted him as soon as he crashes to the floor.
What the—
"Ah, my loyal Cyclonus. Excellent work bringing those dissenters here. Rest assured, your part in the execution of this trap will be rewarded." A voice as sticky and poisonous as stale Energon purrs from the throne, and Cyclonus slowly turns to its origin.
Judge Kledji is the biggest and by far more threatening of the Quintesson Judges the Seeker has ever met, and is thus the legitimate leader of the forces sent to both Earth and Cybertron.
And, right now, his Death face is staring right at the horned mech.
A dark green and pale gray face with incredibly bright poisonous green optics.
Cyclonus immediately looks down to his pedes, knee joints shaking at the proximity and the simple presence of the Judge, to the point he lowers himself into a one knee reverence to avoid falling on his faceplate instead.
"I function to serve, my Master and Lord." The words come out of his voice box without previous order, but he's too horrified and shaken to even think about why they feel wrong.
An indignant shriek almost makes him jump back to his pedes, immediately turning to the sound—
Starscream's faceplate is slammed to the ground hard enough to dent, effectively muting him, while Megatron can only grunt as four of the matte black behemoths keep him immobilized, though not without trouble.
And Cyclonus remembers what he can't believe he forgot, the reason for their being here, the manner in which they broke inside, the decision not to be a slave ever again.
Just one quick glance from the other Seeker, however, tells him all he needs to know.
The lack of hate, betrayal, rage or any other similar emotion can only mean one thing.
Play along.
Cyclonus turns his attention back to where the Quintesson is sitting comfortably on his throne, though keeping his optics to the floor.
Gladly.
"Master Kledji, if I may, I fear the glitched managed to hack into our databases. They were talking about something named 'Unicron'…" He starts, leaving the question unvoiced and the sentence open, so the Judge can take it as he wishes.
"Hah! As if the Unmaker was anything more than tales and old stories!" Starscream shrieks, twisting in the grip of the drones, though they don't even twitch despite his best efforts.
"If there is no Primus, there is no Unicron." Megatron corroborates with a threatening snarl, managing to move so that only half his faceplate is facing the Quintesson, but half is more than enough to convey the promise of a painful deactivation.
Cyclonus hides his shiver by turning his gaze back to the ground.
I really hope I am never on his bad side. Again.
Judge Kledji laughs, and this time the horned mech shudders badly enough that all his armor clangs.
Fortunately, no one notices, or cares to look his way, so he carefully lifts his helm enough to see the laughter face turned their way.
Even if this specific Judge's looks more like a Sharkticon's widest grin.
"You assume, Slave, and, as always, you assume wrong. We are your Masters and creators, but that doesn't mean there isn't truth in your pathetic beliefs." And, while that means nothing to Cyclonus, the way the other two tense, along the horror slowly appearing on their faceplates, makes him put his guard up. "The being you know as Unicron is as real as yourselves."
"Impossible…" Megatron whispers, before rage distorts his expression into something far darker than anything the horned mech has ever seen. "Impossible!" He roars, and the Seeker flinches back hard enough that he falls on his side, quickly scrambling away, while a couple more of the giant drones rush to immobilize the thrashing mech.
"And what, exactly, do you think created the factory you call home?" Judge Kledji answers calmly once the Tread Roller is restrained once more. "The Primus is the largest and most perfect factory-planet creator machine ever built, superior to anything you've ever seen or could bear witness to. But that isn't the whole of its perfection. Because, as every other thing in this universe, it has a complementary yet opposite half. Integrated in its very being, the second part of its function, is a world destroyer, a planet eater that will turn all it takes into itself to fuel and materials for the Primus half to use. The 'Unmaker', as you so aptly put it." The Quintesson explains, body tilting so that shadows accentuate the menacing grin of the laughter face.
Such a display isn't needed. The Cybertronian are more than horrified enough with just his words.
And, despite his bowed helm hiding his emotions from the others, Cyclonus feels the very same.
He may not have knowledge of any myth or story all the others created before him are aware of, but…
A planet creator.
A planet eater.
Both being one and the same.
The biggest threat in the known universe, and even further away.
And, right now, it's pointed at them.
'Horror' and 'despair' are too light emotions to encompass all that he's feeling.
He can't even begin to imagine what the other two are going through.
If that thing is set free on them—
Wait. Wait… Has it been ordered to? Is it approaching yet, or is it just empty words?
"Master Kledji, perhaps you should send word to Quintessa about the revolt, so that this Unicron being can be deployed."
There's the soft whoosh of a face being replaced by another, and, steeling himself, the Seeker looks up.
The Death face is staring at him again.
He tells himself is out of fake respect that he looks down, but the fear bubbling under his armor is too hot and pressing to ignore or hide.
"The communication suites have been disabled. We must reach the escape transport and contact Quintessa as soon as we leave orbit."
And that would have made Cyclonus soar in relief if he hadn't been paralyzed by images of what would happen if he was found out.
"I will do all that is in my power to ensure your safe arrival to your transport."
Not.
The faces whir once more, this time to the laughter face again, and the Seeker shivers.
"That won't be necessary."
"What?" Cyclonus exclaims, voice even more high-pitched than Starscream's, as the Quintesson moves closer to them.
"This one is Galvatron's base model, isn't it?" Judge Kledji asks instead of explaining, a tentacle grabbing Megatron's chin to lift his faceplate so that their optics and eyes meet. "Yes, an excellent model… And Galvatron has indeed proven useful. More like it are sure to come."
"But…" Cyclonus stutters, processor working overtime to find some excuse over the scare of thinking the Quintesson was going to scrap him, some way to get out of this mess—
"Indeed, my good servant. As useful as this one will be, he is no use to us now. However, that one…" The Quintesson answers, releasing Megatron and turning to Starscream. "It has been a long time, but I could have recognized that code anywhere." He adds, almost a whisper, as his Death face is moved to the front, another tentacle pulling a small control out and pressing a button—
With a silent shriek, the Seeker convulses in the drones' grip—
And his grayed out frame falls strut-less to the ground.
Megatron's roar, optics white in rage, easily hides Cyclonus' cry of grief, but does nothing to mute the wrenching pain in his spark.
Because he may be young, but the horned Seeker isn't innocent.
He may not have seen it before, but he can recognize the extinction of a spark.
The end of a life.
Kledji's triumphant laughter soon enough manages to be audible over the Tread Roller's threats and efforts to get free, and, for the first time since they entered the room, Cyclonus doesn't feel fear or horror at the thought of his not-Master, but a hate so intense that it makes his engines growl and wings spread from their folded position, optics bright and faceplate twisted in a spark-extinguishing snarl.
And that's when all Pit breaks loose.
With an audial-splitting shriek, Starscream's wings explode, tendrils crackling with white lightning wrapping around the drones keeping the frame down, the matte black beings jerking violently as the gray Seeker moves again, slowly sitting up…
And throwing the helm back with a metallic shriek, more tendrils ripping the throat and lower faceplate apart, yet more charge making them whip around like probing tentacles, the optic lenses cracking and melting from the intense heat making the optics glow white, the abdominal and chest plating falling down with tiny pops of over-heated Energon, the inner parts thrown away as if useless while a deep blue spark, so dark it seems almost black in its center, pulses in the ripped open spark chamber, filaments of blue and white growing out of it to scorch the metal surrounding it, reaching, probing—
And Cyclonus finally realizes the tendrils are actually wires, and those dangling are tubes, dripping Energon to cover the dead nanites in the essential life fluids that should never be outside a frame.
Outside an active frame.
Because that thing may have a spark—or a semblance of one, because nowhere in the Seeker's databases tells of anything like what he's seeing now—but it is most definitely not alive.
The drones fall down, gray in their deactivation, while the sensor nets from the wings jerk into the air behind the undead Cybertronian, like the skeletal servos of the deactivated reaching for a sliver of life to drain, lenses-less optics turning to the active mechs to reveal the molten glass-metal rivulets streaming down what remains of the faceplate like tears.
Judge Kledji chuckles, triumphant, as the thing that was once Starscream stands up from between the mangled armor that used to be part of it, a deadly beast leaving behind the shambles of the cocoon where it staid dormant for years.
"Rise, my Reaper! Rise once more to occupy your legitimate place under my command!"
And rise the thing does—before immediately throwing itself on Cyclonus.
The Seeker jerks away with a terrified shout as the giant drones intercept the being, Judge Kledji likewise moving back with a startled scream, but it is for naught as the tendrils wrap around the drones to completely drain what semblance of life they have.
"What—Why doesn't it obey me? Why is it—What did you do?! You bunch of glitches, you replaced that interfering code!" The Quintesson shrieks, jerkily trying to recover his balance, thrown askew by his brusque movement back, as he glares at the Cybertronian with his last sentence.
With the nightmarish sound of metal being ripped apart, the drones fall to the ground in pieces as the deactivated frame throws itself once more onto Cyclonus.
And, this time, there's nothing to stop it as it digs gray claws into his torso seams, wires blazing with electricity burning through his very plating while the whipping filaments of the spark lap at him, numbing him and forcing him into the darkness—
The weight is ripped off him, the pain diminishing instantly and awareness coming back, as a shadow covers him, and the horned Seeker sees living gray plating covering a lifted right arm, hears the terrified shrieks of Judge Kledji as the thing crashes into him—
And Megatron's glowing fusion cannon goes off, and everything vanishes for an instant.
When Cyclonus' sensors reboot, only burnt tentacles and a grayed out tri-dactyl pede remain of their enemies, lying on the scorched ground of the bridge, with a large hole on the side of the room, going so far that stars can be seen on the other side.
A servo wraps around his arm and, carefully but somewhat brusquely, Cyclonus is pulled to his pedes, his weight being hold until he can manage to make his shaking frame cooperate enough to keep him standing.
"Are you alright?" Megatron asks, voice powerful but soft, and, still trembling harshly, the Seeker looks up.
"W-Wha-at—"
"That was a Spark Eater. The name says more than enough." Cyclonus shudders once more, arms hugging his torso, and only the Tread Roller's servo around his arm keeps him standing. "I need you to contact the other motherships, see if you can send a message to the rest of Quintessons, tell them their conqueror's enterprise is doomed to failure. Can you do that?"
After a moment, the horned mech nods.
He doesn't hear the words; doesn't remember when Megatron discards his burnt out fusion cannon, the same scorched whip-like marks on it as on his plating; when whoever is on the Deliberata allows them to contact Quintessa; what he exactly tells the Quintessons that answer the call, other than something about the glitched turning even a Reaper against them and that it will be suicidal to keep trying to recover what is lost.
And he doesn't know what the message on the screen means, appearing after the line with their former Master's home planet is closed, still too shocked to decipher the written words, but the gray mech does, because he curses out loud and rushes out of the brig with Cyclonus in his arms, through the hole his shot opened to the outside of the hull—
The world explodes, and darkness swallows them.
AN: So much to say about this chapter... So, let's start small and go from there: Judge Kledji is the Quintesson 'King', or something, in the original Marvel comics (I think), so I thought it fitting he was the leader in here.
Second: Finally, here you have the explanation to that 'High Grade imbalance' thingy all the way back in Part II. As you see, it didn't turn out as anyone could have hoped, not even the Quintessons. In short, there's some coding of the 'Reaper' function that is incompatible with the energy regulation code of the spark, so, for the Reaper to 'work' as it should, the other code can't be present, as the spark is altered and the energy needs are such that the Reaper resorts to devouring sparks to try to balance it as it follows the energy regulation coding's orders. So, in restoring the missing code, they broke any control the Quintessons could have over the Reaper, who would then become a mindless spark-eating... well, Spark Eater. I hope that clears things a bit.
Third: If I get my way, next chapter will be the last one, with maybe an epilogue left, depending on how the chapter turns out. Wait and see, I guess.
And that will be all for now. More later!
Kinetic Vo: My apologies for the long wait, but rest assured, it won't happen again. I'm glad to read you enjoyed last chapter so much! It's really hard to show all I want to when there are so many scenes and characters, so I'm happy to see those drabbles are welcome. Thanks a lot for the review (and fear not, I am finishing this fic ^^)!
Giddy: You don't know how happy your review made me :D Thanks to you, I needed that too ^^ (And the review to Shades of White was pure gold too! XD).
