Finally have this chapter done! Sorry it took so long, guys—it just seemed to drag on and on and I just didn't feel very inspired with it for a long time. Writer's block was part of it. Another part is that we are in lambing season right now and are starting on calving season, so I have more chores to do and a late night shift to check everything so I'm just tired. Among that and homework my brain and body just got fried and it was so easy to just sit down and do nothing productive otherwise. But that's no excuse—I know. The important thing is this chapter is done and is here and we'll be moving onto into the big movement in the next chapter. After this things are gonna start getting pretty dark and pretty tense. They're already getting tense here.

SunnySides—Ratchet: *reads your comment* *snorts* Not if you paid me with all the energon in the universe! *storms away*

Me: Well then….

Onward!

I do not own Transformers or anything in relation. I only own Hunter, the Hybrid race, and any other character that you may not recognize.

Nick Glennie-Smith; Look Around You

12

Ω Quis non Invenit Ω

(What was Found)

Aboard the Elysium;

The doors to the cockpit of the ship whooshed open and Greasy came through them, looking a little worse-for-wear. The old Hybrid wasn't a fan of the thought of flying, even on a space-ship that was a smooth sailing as this one was, because it wasn't so much the idea of turbulence that made him sick. It was the idea of crashing and burning. Literally. Needless to say, Greasy would be happy when they finally got on the ground of Mars. "What's our heading, Captain?" he questioned the tall Hybrid female standing there behind the pilots. "Please tell me we're almost there." Greasy was not so proud as to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Chuckling lightly, Captain Haven Blake looked over her shoulder and smiled down at the little man. "You really weren't joking about the flying thing," she commented with some amusement.

Greasy looked up at her and managed to return a sly smirk as he shot back, "I was unaware my words were in doubt." He walked up to stand beside Haven.

The light-haired woman snorted and looked back towards the window again. "Well, you're in luck, old man," she answered his previous question. "We're approaching the planet now; won't be too much longer before we can touch down and fine out what went wrong out here."

"Thank Primus," Greasy heaved in relief, all but collapsing into a pile of goo on the floor.

Just as Haven had promised, they came upon Mars in record time and passed over the planet's red, rusty surface before finally coming upon the site of the base. Everyone's sparks stopped at the site, their stomachs plunging into a bottomless pit. The same expression was on everybody's lips as their eyes widened in utter horror: "By Primus…."

It was the quintessence of the nightmare no one had wanted to believe could possibly be. Outpost Epsilon… it was gone! There was nothing left there but piles of rubble and the fields around the rubble were littered with the sparkless, gray frames of the previous crew. The Mars soil around the base was blackened as if a fire had wiped over and charred it, patches of it obviously energon-stained. This place was Armageddon.

"I'm not reading any signs of life on the scanners, Captain," one of the pilots reported.

"As morbid as it sounds," Captain Haven sighed heavily with a shake of her head, "I can't say I'm surprised. Whatever happened here it would have been a miracle for anyone to survive. Set down and we'll scout around. Maybe we can find some information about the fate of the outpost and our comrades."

Greasy remained silent. Even though he couldn't be completely positive of anything as of yet, he was about 100% sure what had happened here—what had caused this destruction. He could already sense the vibe of power coming from the demolition. She had been here. Luna had done this.

In robotic form, Greasy and Captain Haven stood off to the side of the ship's ramp, watching on in silence as the Haven's crew scouted the area, looking for information and—as impossible as it seemed to everyone—any survivors of the obvious attack. Greasy kept his eyes trained on Sergeant Gatling Jones, Haven's second in command, as he conferred with one of the scout's further down the field. After a moment or two he saw Gatling's shoulders slump and he knew the worst had been confirmed. The old Hybrid said nothing as both he and Haven watched the Sergeant turn around and come back in their direction, head hanging a bit and his feet ever so slightly dragging.

"Judging from your stance," Haven replied when Gatling was standing before them, "I can already guess what the news is. And it isn't good." Her voice, usually so confident, proud, and strong, was now soft and melancholy. She had known many of the crew members here—either trained them or with them: They weren't just her friends, they had been her family. And now….

Retracting his battle-mask, Jones nodded sadly. "'Fraid not, Captain," he answered. "There are no survivors."

A corner of Haven's mouth twisted in sadness before she managed to still it again. "What… what of Captain Marx?" she managed to get the question out, but just barely. She feared the answer to this inquiry more than any other. She and Bullet had been friends. They'd entered training at the same time and had been in the same squad; they'd trained side-by-side and had been teamed up more than once for missions. They'd even become captains at the same time. Even after they'd been separated and given their own squads to command they'd managed to stay in touch, even with Marx here and she back on Earth. They knew each other's families and friends. Bullet had even attended her wedding via web cam from the base three years ago and had given a toast at the reception as well. In all reality they hadn't just been friends—they'd been brother and sister in arms.

Gatling opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, unable to get the words out. He looked down. He knew his captain's relationship with Captain Bullet, and he knew this was going to be hard on her.

"Gatling?" Captain Blake prodded gently. She had to know.

"I'm…" the Sergeant began, still looking down. He finally gathered up all his strength and met Haven's golden optics. "I'm sorry, Haven," he instinctually slipped out of formalities in order to try and help cushion the blow. He knew it wouldn't work. "He's… gone." The orange and black mech turned to the silver helm he was holding in the crook of his arm and held up up. He handed it over to his captain. "Judging from what we found at the scene he put up a good fight," he informed. "He fought with valor and died with honor."

Captain Haven reached out and tenderly took the headset away from her sergeant, cradling it in her hands as she brought it close. She gazed down upon it with both fondness and sadness. Bullet was gone. Her brother… was gone. Tears biting at her optics and threatening to spill over, the femme pressed her lipplates together in the firm line and bit the inside of her cheek. "Good-bye, Brother," she sent out the silent prayer. "You will be greatly missed." Sniffling the slightest bit, Haven cleared her throat and pulled the helm closer to her chest in a sort of hug. "Captain Bullet Marx," she croaked out, voice slightly cracking, "was a courageous mech and… the finest Hybrid I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." Her gaze went to the sky. "He was a true hero and will never be forgotten." Taking the silent cue, Greasy and Gatling stood with the Captain in a moment of silence to remember and honor the fallen Hybrid Captain.

"Captain Blake!" The shout pulled everyone out of their respective thoughts and caused them to look down the field over towards the rubble of the base. One of the scouts was running back towards them and he looked pretty anxious. "Captain Blake, Sergeant Jones, you need to come quickly!"

"What is it soldier?" Jones questioned in a barking tone. "What's got you in an uproar?"
"A survivor, sir," the mech relayed the message. "We've found one, but she's just barely alive."

Greasy was already rushing forward, the only thing keeping him at trot the fact that he didn't know precisely where he was going. "Show us, son," he ordered. "Where?"

The young mech looked with uncertainty at Greasy and then looked up to his commanding officers again.

As one Blake and Jones nodded. "It's okay, Biggs," the Captain assured him. "Take us."

Biggs nodded, turned away, and started running back in the direction he'd come, the others following him. He led them back down the hill and through the rubble before they finally came upon a small group crouched around a brown and gold colored femme. She was lying prone on a stretcher, badly wounded, just barely managing to hold on to consciousness. The field medic was by her side, trying to repair the major damage so that she could be moved to the infirmary aboard the ship. Another of the soldiers crouched beside her was working at setting up a portable energon drip and getting it into vein in her arm.

Greasy rushed forward and knelt beside the femme, taking her hand in his. "It's all right," he soothed her, watching as she cracked open her eyes to look at him. "It's all right now, you're safe—we have you."

The femme barely opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out, so she just made a nearly imperceptible nod instead. A single tear of relief trickled out of her optic and down her energon stained cheekplate.

"What's your name?" Greasy inquired slowly. "Can you tell me your name?"

Once again the femme opened her mouth to talk. A single noise came from her throat this time, but before she could get anything out her optics rolled back into her head and closed. Going limp she slipped into unconsciousness.

Captain Haven came forward. "Get her aboard the ship," she ordered her soldiers, optics still trained on the comatose femme. "Hurry! The sooner he can revive her the sooner we can have some answers as to what's happened here." She watched on as the soldiers quickly finished prepping the femme and stepped off to the side when they hoisted her and began to carry her back to the ship. Haven watched after them and then turned to share a glance with Greasy. This wasn't good.

Autobot Outpost Omega One;

He was standing at edge the Well of All Sparks, back facing the pit as he gazed out upon Cybertron. He hadn't seen it like this since before the war. Everything was restored; shiny and sparkling and better than new, 'bots hurrying this way and that, children laughing and playing—it was an impeccable paradise. Feeling a presence materialize beside him, he questioned, "It is beautiful, is it not?"

"Magnificent," a familiar and warm voice answered. "As beautiful as I have ever seen it. And one day it will even more beautiful again."

He nodded. "Yes," he agreed. "One day."

A silence fell and lingered until the mech standing beside him asked, "How is the child, Optimus? Is she well? Are you protecting her?"

He looked over at the mech and met his gaze. It had been age since he looked into those comforting optics. "I am, Alpha Trion," he answered. "I am doing all I can to keep her safe and make her feel loved."

Alpha Trion looked away and gazed out upon the landscape once again. "Do you believe she can fulfill her destiny?"

"Yes," he answered without the slightest hesitation. "I do." He too looked back out onto Cybertron. "I have every faith and confidence in her. She is my daughter, and I love her, and as such I will trust her as she trusts me."

"And you would save her?" Alpha Trion asked once again, looking at him. "No matter the trial? No matter what you had to go through to do it, you would save her?

He looked at his old mentor in a serious and stern manner. "Of course," he answered adamantly. "Hunter is my daughter—I will always save her." He became quiet for a moment as he studied the old mech carefully, realizing there was more meaning behind his question. "Something is wrong," he finally came to the conclusion, "is it not?"

Sighing, Alpha Trion looked down and closed his optics as he shook his head. "I am afraid I cannot say, Optimus," he replied sorrowfully. "It is not my place." He met his protégé's eyes once again. "All I can tell you is that a darkness is coming—a darkness that threatens the very universe. You must save Huntress, Optimus. For the good of everyone in the universe as well as her own, you must save the Fuser."

"I do not understand, Alpha Trion," he confessed. "What do you mean I must save Hunter? Is she in danger? What is coming?"

"There is no time," Alpha Trion commented, not even seeming to hear him. "There is no time now. You must save her, Optimus. Save Hunter." With that Alpha Trion was gone.

He stood there in quiet bewilderment. "Save Hunter"? Save her from what? What as coming? What was coming that left no time to explain? What darkness? Darkness from where? Suddenly there was a roar and he looked up to see a large circular black mass in the sky, a rainbow of color circling 'round its edges. Without warning it suddenly surged forward and engulfed everything in darkness.

Now he was spinning the black, spiraling as he shot upwards alone into the unknown. There was nothing above him, below him or around him but darkness. Cold, unrelenting darkness.

"NOOO!"

The sudden scream caused him to look upwards towards an oncoming image. It was blurry and translucent at first, but the closer her came to it the more discernable and solid it became. A chill stabbed through his spark when he could finally make it out. "Hunter!"

His daughter was standing there, imprisoned in some type of what seemed to be a torture device, her arms and legs bound. She was struggling, trying to break free but she couldn't. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as a look of sheer desperation was plastered to her face. She was screaming, crying, begging. "NOOO! LET ME GO! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!"

Suddenly he was out of the black and floating beside her in a large room. They weren't the only ones there. Down below them on the floor were Starscream, Bombardier, and a third figure he couldn't quite make out and they were all battling… against him? Yes, he was down there with them, fighting them, trying to hold them off. But they were coming at him relentlessly, beating him down, and no matter what he did he couldn't escape. But… how could he be down there when he was up here?

"STOP IT!"

He turned to look at Hunter and found her gazing in horror down at the battle occurring below them. She was struggling and fighting harder, trying to free herself to get down there and help him, but she couldn't break loose! He had to calm her down! He had to make her realize that it was all right—that he was there beside her—that what she was seeing wasn't real. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Hunter…" he gasped and pulled away in shock when his hand went right through her. What in the AllSpark…?

"STOP!" Hunter screamed, just as desperate as before. "STOP IT, PLEASE! DON'T HURT HIM—LET HIM GO, I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE!"

She was so terrified! He had to help her! "Hunter!" he bellowed. "Hunter, I am here!" He moved around to the front of her and placed his face right in front of hers, looking into her eyes. "Sweet-spark, I am right here!"

But it was no use. She couldn't see him—she looked straight through him like he wasn't even there! "NO! NO, PLEASE!"

He turned to see that his other self was now on the ground, badly injured, trying to get back up but failing to do so. The shadowy figure suddenly pulled out a sword and walked up to him. Raising the sword high, they swiftly brought it down into his spark.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He looked back to see Hunter struggling in a frenzy to get loose, tears cascading down her cheeks while she watched on as his other self was slaughtered. Desperately he went to her again, trying to make her see him. "Hunter, My Shooting Star, please listen to me! See me!"

"DAD! DAD, NO! DADDY! YYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Hunter suddenly threw her head back, a kaleidoscopic, star-studded beam surging into her and threw her, make her glow brighter and brighter and brighter until he was forced to shield his optics and look away.

When he opened his eyes again he standing at the edge of a crater, dusting and smoking hanging in the air around him. If finally settled and he looked down to see Hunter lying there at the center of the crater. Without a second to lose he ran for her. "Hunter!" he screamed. "Hunter!" Finally collapsing so his knees beside her he tenderly rolled her over and cupped her cheek with a hand, tenderly caressing it with his thumb. Her eyes were closed, a trail of energon ran down her chin from the corner of her mouth and another from a large gash above her eyebrow. She wasn't breathing. She wasn't moving. She wasn't doing anything! He couldn't even sense her spark-beating, all he could sense was… a cold, excruciating emptiness in his spark. And he knew. He was too late. Tears biting his optics and trickling down his cheekplates he bit his lipplate as he tried to fight back the sobs welling in his chest. Hunter was gone. His daughter was gone! And this time… she wasn't coming back. Curling his body over the girl, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her close one last time, rocking her. He lifted his head to the sky and screamed in tragic anguish. "Aaaaahhhhh!"

Lightning split the sky as thunder quaked it and rain poured down, chilling him to the very core but he didn't care. He couldn't even feel it. The only thing he could feel was the emptiness left by the one thing he loved more than anything else in the world, the one thing that had reciprocated that love with the utmost sincerity. Hunter was gone, and that was all he could feel.

Yelling, Optimus awoke with a start, optics wide in horror, spark beating a mile a second, and chassis violently trembling. For a moment he remained on high alert and then he recognized the familiar dimness of his berthroom and relaxed. He heaved a shaking sigh as he moved to sit on the edge of his berth, wiping away the cold coolant and the few tears that had managed to find their way down his cheekplates. What a horrible dream! But that's all it was—a dream—no matter how bad it had been it was just a dream. Or was it? It hadn't exactly… felt like a dream, at least not the first half of it with Alpha Trion. What was he had said? Something about a darkness and… danger and… and…. Oh, he couldn't remember it all! That was the trouble with dreams: The really good ones or the really important stuff in them that you wanted and should remember never stayed with you. If this was the case, it must have all just been a dream then.

Still even if his common sense told him that, his spark wasn't calming down. That dream had just been too real; he could still see Hunter lying in his arms, still feel her dead weight in his grip. It was too unsettling. Sighing heavily, the Prime flattened his pedes on the floor and stood to walk towards the door that separated his room from his spark-daughter's. He opened it as quietly as he could and peered inside. Smiling and chuckling at what he saw, the mech pushed the door all the way open and leaned up against the frame with his arms crossed over his chassis. He shook his head. Hunter could be a comic even when she wasn't trying to be. As of now she was half-hanging off her berth, somehow managing to keep from slipping off it to fall to the floor. What was even more comical was the fact that she was so sound asleep she was snoring more loudly than she usually did. Still laughing quietly, the Prime crept into the room and gently moved his daughter back up into a proper position on her berth and tucked her in. The femmling didn't even stir. She was out like a light, and it wasn't a surprise; she'd had a busy day with an emotional ending. A happily emotional ending. Bending down, Optimus pressed a tender kiss to Hunter's forehead and gazed lovingly down at her, the uneasiness in his spark settling now that he had assurance she was safe and well. He turned away, leaving one last caress on her cheekplate, and began to leave the room. He was almost at the door when another unsettling feeling came over his spark, but this time it wasn't his. Pausing, the red and blue Cybertronian turned back to look at his spark-daughter.

Hunter was moving now, shifting around underneath her thermal tarp and tossing and turning. Her faceplate, which had previously been peaceful, was now pinched and tense. She was moaning and muttering under her breath, and was growing louder with each passing moment. At the same time, her restlessness grew. Then the fearful panting started in as she continued murmuring "no" over and over again. A few tears seeped out from beneath her tightly closed optic shutters and dripped down her cheeks.

It was the tears that brought Optimus rushing back. It wasn't often he caught Hunter in a nightmare, but when he did he usually tried to wake her before it became too terrible. Sitting down on her berth the Prime grabbed Hunter's shoulders and gently began shaking her. "Hunter," he called her. "Hunter. Wake up, My Shooting Star. It's just a dream. It is just a dream." He continued to try and rouse.

Finally Hunter woke up—either on her own accord or with Optimus' help, it wasn't certain—and when she did it wasn't pretty. With a sharp gasp, Hunter bolted upright only to be caught and stopped from jumping up by a strong arm. "Not again! Not again!" she cried. She remained in a trance for a moment longer before finally coming out of it and clutching onto the warm arm wrapped around her. Biting her lipplate, she buried her face in Optimus' shoulderplating. "Daddy…" she whimpered pathetically, voice quivering.

"Shh," Optimus soothed, rubbing her back. "Shh, it's all right. I am here. I have you." He rested his cheekplate against her helm and slowly rocked her as he whispered comfortingly in Cybertronian into her audio-receptor.

It took a few minutes before the Prime was finally able to get his spark-daughter to calm down, but when she did they pulled away from each other and met optics. Hunter sniffled as she dried hers. "It was terrible," she confessed. "I haven't had a dream like that since… well, I guess since the Lennoxes started fostering me."

"What happened?" Optimus gently prodded. He wiped away a stray tear with a careful digit.

Hunter swallowed hard and shook her head. "It was… Child Services," she gulped looking down as she folded her hands in her lap. "They were here and they were…" her voice dropped off as she tried to swallow a sob welling up in her throat, "… they were taking me away again." There was unbelievable pain in her voice as she said it and an underlying fear in it. "It was happening again." Sniffling, she looked up and met her spark-father's eyes once again, tears welling up in her own. "It was happening all over again! Just like every other time before when I got comfortable and feel at home somewhere." Lipplate trembling she hung her head again, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. "It never fails. Every time someone considers adopting me something goes wrong and I get taken back to the orphanage and put with another family." Her folded hands curled into tight fists. "I can't do it again, Dad!" she sobbed. "I can't take having all my dreams crushed again—I can't do it! I can't! I can't…." Lunging forward she wrapped her arms tightly around her father and pushed her face into his chestplate directly over his spark-chamber. "I can't go back again, Daddy," she whispered.

Optimus held her close and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "You won't," he assured her softly.

"How do you know?" Hunter challenged, looking up at him. "How do you know it won't happen again—it always happens.

"Not this time," Optimus countered, shaking his head. "I will not let it happen."

"You might not be able to stop it," Hunter retorted. "What if this wasn't a dream? What if it was my foresight? If it was it will happen no matter what we try to do about it."

"But what if it was simply a dream?" Prime inquired.

"I pray to God it was," Hunter murmured. "But I'm not holding my breath."

"Sweet-spark…" the mech began.

"You have to promise me," the femmling interrupted him.

Optimus stared at her in bafflement. Promise her? Promise her what exactly? "Hunter?"

"You said that you wouldn't let it happen. You have to promise me you mean it. Promise that they won't take me away from you. Promise me."

Ah. Now he understood what she was talking about. The Prime gently held her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs as he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Then he bowed his head and pressed his forehead to hers as he meet her optics. "Hunter, I promise you I will not allow anybody to take you away from me. Whatever happens I will not allow it. I promise." When his spark-daughter threw her arms around him again, he returned the embrace and held her close, pressing a kiss to her helm. "I promise."

Mars—Aboard the Elysium;

The door to the infirmary hissed open and Haven, Gatling, and Greasy came into the room, intent on finally getting some answers. "How is she, Rogers?" Haven questioned the ship's medic. She came over to stand beside the berth and gazed down at the yet unconscious femme laying there. The Captain couldn't help but shake her in pity. Whatever had killed everyone else had absolutely torn this femme apart—it was amazing she was even alive.

"Well, I've pretty much patched her up," Rogers stated, entering, the femme's vitals into his datapad as he did. "And her energon levels are stable now, so my guess would be she'll be coming back to the land of the living pretty soon." Looking up from his datapad, the amber mech looked after at his commanding officers. "Let's hope she just remembers whatever happened here."

Without warning a quiet groan arose of the femme and all optics turned to her. She began to stir and, after a few moments, slowly opened her optics before looking dazedly around the room. Her gaze finally fell on the faces looking down on her. She started panicking. Panting heavily she tried to sit up when white hot pain ripped through her body, paralyzing her. "Ugh!"

"Easy, Soldier," Gatling soothed. "Just take it easy now—you're safe. We're friendlies here."

That seemed to set the femme at easy. The fear faded from orange optics and she settled back to the birth as she relaxed. "Thank Primus," she whispered, voice slightly breaking.

"What's your name and rank, Soldier?" Haven questioned intently.

"Wolff," the femma answered. "Sergeant Calypso Wolff."

"I am Captain Haven Blake," the captain introduced herself. "This is Sergeant Gatling Jones and Greasy Coggs—the founder of the outpost program."

Stepping forward on his introduction, Greasy put a hand on Calypso's arm and met her optics with a serious gaze. "Sergeant," he sighed, "I know that you've been through a lot and this is probably the last thing you want to discuss so soon, if ever, but we have some questions we're hoping you could answer for us."

"You wanna know what happened here," Calypso guessed, though she sounded sure. It wasn't hard to guess what they wanted to talk about after all. "Am I right?"

Greasy, Haven, and Gatling all exchanged a look before turning back to her. "Well, um," Gatling cleared his throat, "actually yeah. That's exactly it."

Wolff nodded and slowly tried to sit up. It took a while in order to get through the pain that slammed into her with every move she made but eventually she was sitting up. "To be honest," she sighed, grimacing a bit as she tried to settle into her new position, "there's some details I don't remember real well—like blank spots in my memory."

"Just tell us whatever you can remember, Wolff," Haven encouraged her. She sat down on the edge of the berth and put a hand on the femme's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Anything you have to say will be helpful. Start with the last thing you remember."

Calypso looked down at her hands folded in her lap, sighing heavily as she squeezed them together. "The last thing I remember…" she began, trying as hard as she could to think back. Everything was so muddled and fuzzy, it was hard to concentrate and find what she was trying to look for, but finally it came to her. "There was… an explosion," she explained. "I remember there was an explosion. And then… there was a battle—but I can't seem to remember who with—and Bullet…." Her optics suddenly grew wide and she looked up to meet Haven's. "Captain Marx!" she exclaimed with a gasp, sitting forward. "Is he…?"

Sorrow settled in over Captain Blake's face and she lowered her gaze from Calypso's. Head hanging, she answered, "Gone, I'm afraid."

Tears immediately welled up in Wolff's eyes and she sniffled and desperately wiped at her optics, trying to dry them. Bullet was dead? How? Why?! Why was he dead and she still here? "I… I could tell the Captain was in trouble," Calypso went on, voice just beginning to break, "so I was trying to get to him to help… and that's when the second explosion happened. I was blown back into the base as it came down and got knocked out. I don't know how long I was out for, but when I came to again I hurt all over and I couldn't move. Everything was so… dark. But then there was this light and I looked up to see this… kid standing there, starin' at me. He had a sword drawn but he looked… confused—like he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill me or not. Finally he turned around and left me there. I sat there for the last two weeks, trapped, alone—I was sure I was goner until you all showed up." She looked up at them all and finally sighed, "That's all I can remember."

"Are you sure there's nothing else you can remember, Calypso?" Greasy questioned. "Anything at all?"

The femme met his optics and then looked down for a moment again, a contemplative look coming over her face as she tried to wrack her processor for more information. After a long moment she shook her head. "No," she answered softly. "Nothing."

"Not a name? Not a face? Not even an insignia? Anything that might tell us for sure who did this?"

Calypso met his gaze again and shook her head sorrowfully. "No," she replied. "I'm sorry, but no. I can't remember anything else."

Haven, Gatling, and Greasy all exchanged a look before nodding at and giving their thanks to the femme. Then they all left the room. "What do you make of it?" Gatling asked, directing the question at Greasy.

"I can't say for sure," the old Hybrid replied, stroking his long metal beard. "My gut tells me it's Luna, but with no proof I can't be positive." Sighing, he looked up at the younger Hybrids. "The only lead we've got to go on now is a fact that there was an explosion but no evidence of combustion, chemical reaction, radiation or electro-magnetism."

"Which only leaves magic right?" Haven inquired. "Sorcery?"

Greasy nodded. "That's what my gut tells me," he repeated, "but I still can't be sure."

"Captain Haven?"

All three turned to see a couple soldiers coming down the hall towards them, one of them holding what looked like a data-pad in her grip. "We've found something," the one with the object informed. "It was left on the briefing room table—pretty much the only thing of the base left standing." Coming up to her superior, the femme handed the device over. "It's not like the pads issued here."

Haven looked the mysterious data-pad over, looking for some type of clue to tell her anything about it. Was it a bomb? Some sort of tracking device? Where did it come from? She couldn't find anything and finally turned to Greasy. "Care to take a look?" she questioned, handing it to him. "If you're right about who it is, it might be for you."

Greasy took the pad with a nod of thanks and tapped the screen. It device lit up and at the center of the screen an insignia of a red crescent moon over a black one appeared. Though he had partially been expecting it, the old Hybrid's tank dropped. Primus, no….

A couple second later the insignia disappeared as the image of a rather imposing and sinister looking femme appeared on the screen. She smiled. "Ah, hello, Greasy," she said, a sickeningly chipper lilt in her voice.

"Luna…" Greasy rumbled, swallowing hard.

"It has been a long time, old friend. If you're watching this—and I'm sure you are—then it means that I have returned and my plan to drag you off Earth has succeeded. What do you think of the surprise I left for you on Mars? I won't lie, I was a bit disappointed: I was expecting your base to be a bit more of a challenge than it was." She sighed. "Oh, well. We can't have everything our own way, I imagine. Anyway, by the time you finally watch this I will have already arrived and re-established myself on Earth." A dark look came into Luna's raspberry optics as she added, "And by the time you return to Earth, I will have already repossessed the Fuser and returned to her the memories that you so thoughtlessly stripped away from her."

Optics widening, Greasy looked up at the soldiers. "Send out a message to the Council, the Hall of Memories and Autobot Outpost Omega One!" he barked. "Luna is on Earth and she's going for the Fuser! They need to be warned!"

The soldier nodded and began to turn and rush back down the hall towards the transmission room when suddenly the voice returned from the data-pad. "Ah, ah, ah," Luna was patronizingly scolding as she wagged a digit to and fro. "I know what you're thinking now, Greasy, and let me assure you it won't work. I've taken out the satellite orbiting Mars and the signal on your ship isn't strong enough to reach the one orbiting Earth by half. You will not be allowed to interfere with my plans again, Greasy." The smile had slipped from the femme's lipplates and she was glowering into the camera now. "Not this time! You ruined everything last time, but you won't be doing any of that this time around, old friend." There was heavy, biting sarcasm in her voice as she pronounced "old friend". "Hunter is mine, Greasy," Luna snarled. "She is mine and you know it. Nothing will stop me from taking her back again. Nothing. So I highly suggest that you and everyone else stay out of my way, lest I be forced to deal with you. Permanently. You can't stop me, Greasy. No one can." And with that the video ended and the screen flashed the insignia one more time before it went black. There was a sizzle and a small explosion before smoke began to rise up from the device.

A tense silence fell over the hall as Greasy continued to stare in horror at the data-pad and everyone else stared at him. Everyone was unsure of what to do or say. Greasy's mouth went dry and he could have sworn his spark stopped beating in its chamber. Luna was on Earth. Right now. She was going to go after Hunter and he wasn't there to stop her and he couldn't get a warning out to anybody else. This wasn't just bad. It wasn't even just horrible. There were absolutely no words known to sentient kind that could describe exactly what this situation was, but Greasy knew exactly what Hunter would say if she were here, and it came as close to putting everything into perspective as anything possibly could. They were screwed. They were all majorly screwed.

Nevada State Prison;

Cody Philips lay awake on the top bunk in his cell arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling through the darkness as his mind turned over and over. Too quiet. Prison cells were always way too quiet. He wondered if this was what solitary confinement felt like. The young man sighed. Oh well, at least he didn't have some cellmate to try and push him around and tell him what to do like he had the last several times he'd been in the slammer. He could deal with the quiet to get away from that if he had to. Groaning, he rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, trying quiet his mind in order to get some sleep. He closed his brown eyes.

Cody was almost asleep when suddenly there came a soft whooshing sound and a feminine voice. "Hello, Cody."

The man jumped; nearly falling off his bunk the jolt awake had been so violent. With a yelp he clutched at his bunk in order to keep from falling and looked up and around the room until his eyes finally lit finely dressed woman standing in the corner of the room.

She was… beautiful to say the least; her presence was rather intoxicating. Then again she was a lady dressed like royalty in a prison cell, so it wasn't exactly that hard to be attractive against that's backdrop. But still. It was nearly impossible to tell her age as she looked young and older at the same time, and she seemed incredibly vital. Her smile was friendly, yet at the same time it held a shadow of something more dark and sinister beneath it. A dangerous glint gleamed in her eyes. And what eyes! They were so inhuman—not only because of their vivid color but because they almost seemed to glow through the dark. Man alive! She could almost be gorgeous just for those eyes alone!

"Wh-who are you?" Cody asked a bit breathlessly as he gulped. He'd never really been the type of guy who was attracted to women that much older than him, but this one was different. She wasn't just gorgeous she was… Philips didn't know. It was almost like she had under some sort of spell, if that didn't sound too cliché and fairytale-ish. "H-how did you get in here?"

The woman's smile turned coy and she came out from the corner of the room, a distinctive, suggestive sway in her step as she did so. Her form-fitting gown only seemed to highlight it as the material hugged her soft curves. This woman seemed to have it all. "Oh, don't worry about that, my boy," she replied, a feminine giggle in her voice. "Just know that I am here to help you." The sound of her heels clicking on the cement floor echoed in the room as she came closer and closer.

Cody kept eyeing her, not sure whether to trust this woman or not. Soon it wouldn't matter, because the longer she remained in his cell the further under her spell he slipped and the more entrancing she became. It wasn't long before she was all he could see, all he could smell, all he could think. Who the hell was this woman? "Help me?" Cody questioned.

"But of course, Cody," the woman replied, a tone in her voice that seemed to ask why he would even question her. "I want to help you. Do you not want help?"

"Of course I do!" Cody quickly assured her, for some reason not wanting to offend this female. (He wasn't sure if it was because he found her attractive or more so that he found her frightening.) "But… how?"

"Well," the woman began, "that would all depend on you. I understand that you are not exactly a newcomer to life behind bars, Mr. Philips. You have quite the criminal record: fraud, embezzlement, theft, blackmail, even counterfeiting. You're bail isn't exactly cheap. Oh, believe me, I can afford it, but I don't want to go exchanging my money until I knew for sure that it won't be wasted."

"Oh-kaaay," Cody murmured a little suspiciously, pulling back a little bit and looking the woman over once again. "Meaning?"

The woman's smile grew a bit dark. "I will help you, Cody, so long as he help me in turn. You see I want to take back something that was stolen from me long ago, but I need a con man such as yourself to get it back for me."

Philips was quiet for a long moment, thinking this over. Finally he slowly nodded, still not quite sure he liked how this was going, but too afraid and entranced by the woman to say no. "Okay," he conceded. "What is it I'd be doin' exactly?"

"Oh, don't worry about that yet," the woman dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. "Well discuss all the details tomorrow when you're out of prison."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, darling, tomorrow. And I hope that you're swift on the uptake because the moment you get out of here I'll be putting you to work. Don't worry, you will be full compensated for your labor. So long as you succeed."

"Who are you?" Cody finally asked again. This woman sounded like she was just about ready to leave and he still didn't know a thing about her yet. The least he could get was a name, so maybe he'd have some idea of who he would be working for, or at least know who to come back and haunt if she ended up killing him. Philips still wasn't sure she wouldn't even if he did do as she asked.

The coyness returned to the woman's smile as she answered, "Luna. My name is Luna. And believe me when I say that I always get what I want, Mr. Philips. Always. I will see you tomorrow." With that the woman turned, took a couple steps away and waved both of her hands up her body, disappearing in a cloud of dark smoke and frightening the young man as she did so.

Confession #36:

So. Tired! I'd sleep for a week if I were able to! *collapses on couch and immediately starts snoring*

REMEMBER TO SUBMIT YOUR HYBRID QUESTIONS!