Author's Notes: This chapter was supposed to be out sooner, but I've had some health issues. On 1-16-2021 I had to go to the hospital with pancreatitis. It's one of the worst pains I've ever had, but I'm slowly recovering. Would not recommend it. LOL! On the bright side, I've learned just how many supportive people I have in my life who care about my well being, including a few of you here on FF. I hope to regain enough energy to write more soon, but my next update might take a while for obvious reasons. Thank you to everyone who reads and/or reviews my stories :)

Chapter 2

Rise and Fade

An orn had passed since the body of Diadem was discovered, and Perceptor was overworked with trying to determine what the weapon was that killed her. He had tested over 200 potential objects, but none behaved the way the murder weapon would have. He needed something small enough to leave the entrance wounds, flexible enough to turn, and yet solid enough to not lose momentum as it made the turn. A mechanized weapon, possibly one with artificial intelligence, seemed the most likely culprit. Where Perceptor would find something like that, he didn't know.

The microscope's work was interrupted by a knock on the door, and he pressed a button to allow whoever it was access. It turned out to be Ultra Magnus, which wasn't all that surprising.

"Have you determined anything about our mystery killer?" Ultra Magnus asked without preamble.

"I'm afraid not," Perceptor replied, "I can't even figure out what the murder weapon was. I wish Prowl was here. He was so good at figuring out such things."

"Well whatever method you're using, hurry it up," Ultra Magnus ordered curtly, "We just received a call from Kup. Another body was discovered in Polyhex."

"Polyhex?" Perceptor asked in disbelief, "But that's 300 mechano-miles from Iacon!"

"I am aware of that," Ultra Magnus ground out, "Kup's team was digging through the rubble of Shockwave's old lab. He used to keep a stockpile of energon, and Rodimus thought the reward might be worth the search. Before Kup even got there however he almost ran over a dead body."

"The same modus operandi?" Perceptor inquired.

"Yeah," Ultra Magnus sighed, tired from his investigation, "Two puncture wounds to the side of the spark chamber, and all energon drained. The spark chamber was ruptured just like last time as well. What makes this one unusual is the victim had no connection with Diadem."

"Do you know who it was?" Perceptor asked.

"We know it was an Autobot," Ultra Magnus reported, "The sigil was well worn on their chassis. We don't have a name, but we suspect it was someone older; possibly Kup's age or more."

"This is most curious," Perceptor commented, "Different locations, different types of victims, but the same weapon. Do you believe it's the same perpetrator?"

"We can't rule anything out," Ultra Magnus replied, "For all we know the Decepticons have built a new weapon, or it could be a lone psychopath attacking at random. The distance this attacker covers indicates either a flier or someone with reliable transport. A grounder wouldn't be able to do this so quickly. Let me know when you find out something. Don't even try to find me, just comm me the moment you have something. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Perceptor nodded, "I'll do what I can."

Ultra Magnus wasted no time with further pleasantries, but rather left as soon as he had what he needed. Perceptor sighed to himself, knowing it was going to be a long orn. If he couldn't figure out what this weapon was or anything about the killer, then who knew how many more could suffer?

Construction work was going well in Straxus, just outside of Polyhex. The Autobots and neutrals had worked well together to make the planet habitable again after the double threat of Unicron and prolonged Decepticon rule. The Decepticons had once bled this planet dry of energy, and then Unicron tried to literally eat the planet! Needless to say, Cybertronians everywhere just wanted things to be okay again and were willing to do their part to help make that a reality.

Silverbolt was overseeing the maintenance of a new government building for Straxus, and his partner in his endeavor was Broadside; a mech he had only met recently yet already found he liked. Broadside was a triple changer that turned into an aircraft carrier as well as a very large aircraft, but happened to be both afraid of heights and easily made seasick. Silverbolt, being a flier who was afraid of heights himself, understood where the poor mech was coming from.

"This place is looking better already," Silverbolt smiled as he looked up at the skyscraper, "All we need to do now is inspect the roof."

"I don't wanna go up there!" Broadside bemoaned, "If we do then something bad is going to happen, I just know it!"

"Don't worry, Broadside," Silverbolt consoled him, "We've faced Decepticons shooting at us, natural disasters, and so many other threats. We can handle a simple elevator ride to the roof."

"But I'm claustrophobic!" Broadside whined.

"Really? You're afraid of open spaces and enclosed spaces?" Silverbolt asked somewhat incredulously, "Where can you go?"

"The road is nice," Broadside shrugged.

"But...you're not a grounder," Silverbolt pointed out.

"Neither are you, but you walk on the road all the time," Broadside countered.

"Point taken," Silverbolt relented, "Still, one of us has to inspect the roof. Tell you what, why don't you check the parking lot for potholes? Grounders hate those."

"Yeah, good idea," Broadside said shakily, "Thanks, Silverbolt. You're a good team leader. I can see why Rodimus trusts you so much."

Silverbolt couldn't help but chuckle at that one and say, "Sure, Rodimus trusts me. That's why he would rather send Grimlock out to a fight and leave me behind to patch up a random roof."

"It's not random. This building will house a diplomatic chamber," Broadside reminded him, "Don't worry, Silverbolt. Rodimus Prime will see your accomplishment soon enough. Just give it time."

"Sure. Thanks, Broadside."

Silverbolt then went inside to take the elevator up to the roof, and without the big triple changer's chatter he was left alone with his thoughts. Things had been very different for Silverbolt ever since Rodimus became the new Prime. Well, truth be told the actual change was losing Optimus.

Optimus had not only been their Prime, but he had also created the Aerialbots. They weren't just another combiner team to Optimus. They were special, and they had been the last Cybertronians to be endowed with sparks by Vector Sigma, which had only been possible thanks to the sacrifice of Alpha Trion's own spark. Alpha Trion had built Optimus, and Optimus had built Silverbolt. It felt like a legacy, like three generations of a royal family. Now though, Rodimus Prime just treated them like regular grunts.

No, it wasn't just that they didn't have the Prime's audial sensors anymore. Silverbolt could live with that. The real problem was Rodimus Prime's impatience with him and his brothers. Silverbolt still occasionally struggled with his fear of heights, but now there was no one to comfort him through this. Now if he didn't suck it up he got written up for it.

Slingshot and Air Raid actually fared well under Rodimus Prime's command due to their similar fighting styles. Hot Rod had been impulsive just like them, so their personalities just fit together. Skydive was mostly left alone with his books, which was for the best. Fireflight however...

Silverbolt worried about Fireflight. He was a good fighter, but not a focused one. Rodimus expected great things from every Autobot, which in the right context could be a virtue. His style of tough love was actually beneficial to the Dinobots, because it made them feel wanted and important. With Fireflight however...Silverbolt could tell his brother was starting to feel inadequate.

Optimus didn't bring attention to Fireflight's focus issues, but Rodimus would frequently ask Fireflight what was wrong with him when something went awry. It was a stain on the Aerialbots in general, and Silverbolt was often blamed for Fireflight's lack of self control and low attention span. That was likely why the Aerialbots were being sidelined in favor of other teams.

Silverbolt sighed as he thought about this assumption. He would of course do his best no matter what his job was, but he couldn't help but wonder if Rodimus disliked his team. To be fair though, that would indicate that Rodimus could even tell them apart, which half the time he couldn't.

Silverbolt's processor was a world away as he worked on the roof. There were several holes that would need to be patched up, so Silverbolt got to work right away with applying steel tiles and riveting them in place. He would even take a blow torch to melt the rivet into the panel so that everything would mesh together.

He was lost in this rhythm of working and pondering when he was pulled out of his little world by a loud yet masculine scream!

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

That sounded like Broadside!

A few minutes earlier, Broadside had been in the parking lot pouring molten slag into a pothole. He then used his trowel to smooth everything out. Overall the road was looking good.

He feared that he would be seen as a coward for not going up to the roof with Silverbolt, but he couldn't help himself. As big as he was he was worried about falling through the roof and then cracking open his helm or something. He could also fall off the edge and not transform into jet mode in time. After all, triple changing was hard, and sometimes he would turn into the wrong alt mode. No way would an aircraft carrier survive a fall of such a height.

As he patched up the last pothole he began to wonder if perhaps he had been too hasty. Perhaps he could survive his claustrophobia, make it to the roof, and then help Silverbolt with repairs. The mere thought was terrifying, but he didn't want his cowardice on his record. After all, he was an Autobot, and Autobots needed to be willing to help no matter what they were ordered to do.

Steeling himself, Broadside walked across the parking lot and over to the door that led inside the council chamber. Before he could enter though, he stopped himself. His spark felt constricted and his intakes were getting faster. The very idea of getting in that elevator was terrifying for him. He feared he would pass out before his processor allowed him to do something so counterproductive to survival.

Broadside placed his hand on the building and braced himself. If he could just calm down, he could go inside. He would prove to Silverbolt that he was a capable Autobot!

As his helm hung down and he looked at the ground, suddenly another shadow enveloped his own. He figured it was just Silverbolt so he turned around. Big mistake.

"Hi Silverbol- Wait. You're not-"

Before Broadside could finish his sentence, the other mech's index and middle fingers bent backwards to reveal something that looked like drill bits attached to cables. It took a mere second, if that long, before the probes were lodged into Broadside's chassis! He looked down in bewilderment at what he was seeing, but that sense of surreality was replaced with sheer pain as he felt his spark chamber being penetrated!

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

Silverbolt flew down to the parking lot, wasting no time to locate Broadside. When Silverbolt transformed into robot mode and landed the first thing he did was search for Broadside. He could see the freshly repaired potholes, but no sign of the triple changer. Then he turned toward the building, and that was where he saw it.

A figure was driving at the speed of a racer away from the building, and in front of the back entrance was a large grey frame. Broadside was actually a charcoal color, so it was possible he was still alive. Silverbolt ran to his friend to see what the damage was.

It was horrifying. Broadside was freshly dead, with energon seeping from two tiny holes on the left side of his chassis. His frame was still warm, but when Silverbolt scanned him there was no spark. It was the same killer, and they had struck again. Silverbolt couldn't believe he was unable to protect his fellow Autobot, but he vowed that he would find whoever did this and bring them to justice.

The acting coroner, Nosecone, examined the latest body from the mysterious serial killer. Broadside had been a good mech, and Nosecone could tell Silverbolt was especially upset about this one. Nosecone understood. If someone died under his watch he would be crushed too.

Thus far the victims were Diadem, Broadside, and the older mech that had been identified as Charter. Nosecone knew his job was merely to catalogue their injuries and keep their bodies available for testing, but he couldn't help but want to figure this case out. After all, he was one of the Technobots, so he was a naturally curious mech.

Their locations were obviously not the same, though Broadside and Charter were only one city-state away from each other. Diadem on the other hand had been a quarter orn's journey from either of the other locations. Broadside's energon wasn't completely drained, but only 45% drained, indicating that the process took more time than the killer had thanks to Silverbolt.

That led Nosecone to an epiphany. The energon drainage wasn't what was killing the victims. The spark piercing was how they died, so the energon collection must have happened afterward. It was possible that the killer could want the energon alone, but that hardly made sense. Energon wasn't as expensive as it used to be. The killer could easily obtain it.

Nosecone also wondered if there was anything these victims had in common besides their deaths. Charter was a saucer-former that surveyed far-off planets and defended vulnerable areas from Decepticons. Diadem was a neutral femme that sold her body for credits and whatever other favors she could get from Decepticons. Broadside was an Autobot soldier that spent most of the war on the planet Euphrosia protecting its waterways. So really, no, they had nothing in common.

The only commonality Nosecone could find was that they were each alone when they died. So, the killer was an opportunist, likely with no specific agenda or hatred for his or her targets. The most obvious question then was why. Why drain energon? Why kill at all? Why use such a tiny weapon when their crimes would still be obvious? Who was doing this?

Just as Nosecone started taking notes at his computer terminal, he heard a scraping noise coming from one of the berths where the dead bodies were laying. Nosecone turned around, and nearly fainted when he saw it!

Broadside, Diadem, and Charter were all standing up! They were alive! Except, no, they weren't. The color was still drained and their optics were still dark.

"What is going on here?" Nosecone asked aloud.

The three corpses didn't seem to hear him however. Instead, they just awkwardly walked to the door and opened it, exiting the coroner's office. They looked like puppets being controlled by a sparkling, and flakes of decaying metal littered the floor in their wake.

/Ultra Magnus! This is Nosecone!/ Nosecone shouted into his comm, /We have a situation!/

/Decepticons?/ Ultra Magnus asked.

/Um...no,/ Nosecone replied sheepishly, /The murder victims are...escaping./

/...What?/ Ultra Magnus asked flatly.

/I know it sounds crazy sir, but they just got up and walked away!/ Nosecone exclaimed, his tone growing more panicked, /Please, send someone out here! I don't know what's going on, but we have to do something!/

Ultra Magnus felt that Nosecone had lost it, but just in case it was true he ordered the Aerialbots and Cliffjumper to go out and find the...bodies. Ultra Magnus held his helm in his hand and wondered when his job had gotten so ridiculous. If this was a Decepticon ploy, then he had no idea what their end game was.

Silverbolt led his brothers out to where Nosecone said the victims had walked off to, with Cliffjumper driving below them. Part of him hoped that they were still alive, given how one of those victims was Broadside. It didn't seem possible though. They had been dead for too long for it to be a mistake. Still, Silverbolt dared to hope. He even wondered if the Matrix of Leadership had something to do with this.

/This is a mistake. We should bring in more Autobots,/ Slingshot said over the comm.

/There are six of us and only three of them, assuming this is in fact what Nosecone said it was,/ Skydive pointed out.

/Dude, don't you remember those old zombie movies from earth!?/ Slingshot asked frantically, /We could be dealing with a zombie apocalypse!/

/Zombies aren't even real on earth. Why would they be real on Cybertron?/ Silverbolt asked rhetorically, /We shouldn't worry about this until we have more information. For now our only job is to secure those deceased Cybertronians./

/Hey guys, what if they bite us?/ Fireflight suddenly asked.

/What?/ Air Raid asked.

/Like vampires or zombies or something,/ Fireflight elaborated, /In earth movies if they bite you then you turn into one./

/We're not dealing with zombies!/ Silverbolt shouted in exasperation, /We're talking about people who had lives and thoughts of their own. If Broadside is alive down there then we need to help him. Three lives could be saved today, but we need to stay alert and cohesive as a unit./

/Fine, but I still say we need backup,/ Slingshot groused.

/Hey Aerialbots! I see them!/ Cliffjumper interjected into their conversation, /Straight ahead, near the clearing outside town!/

The Aerialbots followed Cliffjumper's directions and landed, their pedes touching down with a clanking noise against the smooth steel of the clearing. Thankfully their quarry was outside town, just in case this was some sort of Decepticon trick. They had to be ready for anything.

The three victims, still grey and lifeless, moved with the awkwardness of toys being shoved out of the way. Their upper halves didn't seem to be supported by their legs, and their faces didn't seem to be looking in any direction. This didn't even look like a zombie movie, because at least those creatures had a sense of awareness of their environment. These bodies just looked like they were being moved by something else. Somehow it felt more terrifying knowing nobody was in there.

"Should we shoot 'em?" Cliffjumper asked Silverbolt.

"No. Let's start by trying to restrain them," Silverbolt ordered, "If we can just get them to stop, then maybe we can get them back to Nosecone's office."

Nobody seemed to want to make the first move, but Cliffjumper took an energy rope out of his subspace and started walking with cautious steps toward the walking bodies. Slingshot and Air Raid followed behind him, ready to offer cover fire if need be. Everyone held their intakes, wondering what would happen next.

Strangely enough, the bodies stopped walking. They stood still in the middle of the clearing, which caused the Autobots to stop in their tracks. Had their targets detected them? Everyone kept silent and still just in case, waiting for something to happen. Cliffjumper gripped the energy rope tighter, ready to throw it at the first sign of movement.

What happened next shocked everyone. The three bodies, which had been standing there a moment before, vanished!

"What the-!?" Slingshot shouted.

"Was it a hologram?" Skydive wondered out loud.

"AAHHH! Ghost zombies!" Fireflight screamed.

"Wait a minute everyone!" Silverbolt called for calm, "Let's not get carried away."

Cliffjumper meanwhile ran to where the bodies had been a moment before, and kneeled down to look at the ground. Sure enough, tiny metal fragments littered the place where they had been, as well as the path they came from.

"Yep. They were here alright," Cliffjumper told the others.

"Then where did they go!?" Fireflight shrieked, "They just disappeared!"

"Fascinating," Skydive muttered as he placed a servo on his chin, "Clearly something more is at work here. Apparently this isn't simply a murder case anymore. We might be dealing with extraterrestrial activity."

"You mean aliens?" Cliffjumper asked skeptically.

"It makes sense," Skydive shrugged, "There are many species in this galaxy, not to mention the surrounding galaxies. Our killer might not be Cybertronian at all."

Silverbolt turned his helm to look back at the spot where the corpses had been. Another force, huh? Well there was one species that jumped right to the top of Silverbolt's suspect list...

The Quintesson ship left Cybertron's orbit as surreptitiously as it had entered. The three new shells were safely in their possession now. One of the Quintesson scientists pushed some controls on his console, and the three Cybertronian frames walked themselves into storage containers made just for them.

"A most successful mission," It's war face said, and then when it flipped around to its wisdom face it said, "Waste nothing, and profits increase."

They had truly wasted nothing on these Cybertronians. They had collected the energon for resale and bartering, they had the frames to repurpose into new slave robots, and as for the sparks...

"Is the conversion of the spark energy ready?" One of the death faces asked another.

"Not quite. It will take several more recycled sparks to make a new one. I'm sure there's no hurry however. Heheheheheheh..."

Their private joke caused every Quintesson to laugh a joyless sinister laugh. Their work was interrupted however when a new presence entered the room.

"Ah, and there's our prized collector now," One of the wrath faces greeted the newcomer, "Avail yourself of energon before returning to the surface."

"Thank you, sir," The newcomer, a Cybertronian, nodded professionally, "Um, sir? Do you have enough? Sparks, I mean. Is it ready?"

"Not yet," The Quintesson's death face replied, "And you better hurry. According to my calculations, you only have five orns to complete the hunt. If we don't have enough spark energy by then, well..." A judgement face turned to him, "I cannot be held responsible for your laziness."

"I understand, sir," The Cybertronian gulped, "Please, just do what you can."

"By the way," A war face added, "You better not lose any of our homing chips. Otherwise we won't be able to retrieve the frames," A wrath face, "If even one frame is lost, then the deal is off."

The Cybertronian nodded and left them to their work. The Sharkticon guard at the door gave him a long hard look as he exited, which made him walk a little faster to get out of there.

Once the Cybertronian was back in his room, he placed his face in his servos and cried. Five orns. He only had five orns to get them enough energy, and if he couldn't...he didn't want to think about it.

Pulling out his mesh turbo fox from subspace, he pressed it close to his face and wept. Five orns to live. It wasn't enough, and he would spend so much of it harvesting sparks and energon from other Cybertronians. He knew he should refuse, he knew it was wrong, but his life had been so short before.

The Quintessons created the Transformers in the first place, so surely they would know how to help his victims too. Rubberneck rationalized every way he could, until he just had to admit that there was no point. He was a Sparkless, and the Quintessons' technology could only keep him alive without a spark for less than a deca-orn. If he didn't do what they said, they would let him die again.

To try to think of something other than his crimes, Rubberneck instead decided to focus his thoughts on his memories. There was so much he didn't remember about his old life. It was logical that he wouldn't though, since a processor needs a spark to retrieve everything, and he didn't have one.

The only thing he remembered clearly was Fishtail, his little sister. They had both been sparklings, and they lived in...Iacon? Kaon? Polyhex? He couldn't recall, but he knew it was a big city. He also knew they didn't have a house, because what few memories he had took place outside.

He wondered if he lived to be an adult. Probably not, since in every memory he was a sparkling. A sparkling living outside with his little sister. He also remembered waste recyclers. There were so many, carefully hidden to keep the city looking neat and clean. They only converted garbage every three orns, and Rubberneck had known when those orns were. He didn't remember now, but for some reason that information had been important back then.

Everything was fading! Rubberneck knocked on his helm, trying to force himself to remember, but he couldn't. Instead he pressed the button under Fishtail's paw to hear her voice again. If he just held onto this, he wouldn't forget. If he just did as the Quintessons wanted, then he would get to have a spark of his own again. Then he would hunt more sparks, enough for Fishtail. Then they could be together again. All he had to do was obey, and he would get to live again.