Chapter One
**Earth, Indeterminate Timeframe
"It's so peaceful," Tigatron murred, tail swaying in contentment. He growled playfully,
rolling onto his back and swatted a paw at a passing butterfly.
"In the face of war, any moment's rest is peaceful," Airrazor responded. "If only
Megatron would give in and surrender... we'd all be in better shape."
"Luxuries like that are few and far between," Tigatron muttered, still playing with
his frien the butterfly. "Too bad, too... From what Cheetor tells me, Cybertron seems
interesting. Replacing the organic jungle with an urban one might prove interesting."
Airazor nodded her beak in approval. "Don't get your hopes up, love," she
chuckled. "We don't even have two transwarp pods to rub together, and Hawksbill
Magnus said he can't pinpoint our exact locations."
"There is always hope, Airazor. You taught me that."
The bird hopped onto Tigatron's stomach. "Confound me with your logic, big cat.
Ain't that always the way it is?" The tiny falcon nuzzed the immense cat's stomach.
"I hear something," Tigatron said after a few moments of silence. "It's coming
closer and it's--"
A flash of light engulfed them both before Tigatron had a chance to finish his
sentence. The two felt themselves transforming involuntarily, beams of light tracing
across their outer shells as they were ripped open, raped into their robot modes. "My
love," Tigatron mouthed, extending his hand as they were pulled skyward.
"Don't leave me," Airazor returned without voice, placing her hand into that of her
big cat's.
Then the peaceful slumber that was not death, not life-- not even some blind
purgatory of the mind-- overtook them, stealing their lives from the world and the world
from their lives.
Copperhead leapt across the fallen treetrunks and scorched earth, Tyrannix close
behind, as the two rushed through the woods. The comm was going wild with activity,
from Maximal to Maximal, Predacon to Predacon, and a certain channel contained a very
irate conversation between a certain Elder Maximal and a time-displaced Pseudo-Maximal
Decepticon. The latter, despite its impetus as the possible destruction of space-time itself,
struck Copper as somewhat comical.
"It's this way," Copperhead called, rushing leftward, near a break in the forest
wall. Tyrannix followed, his massive form downing trees left and right as he charged past.
"I don't see it..." Tyrannix responded, pushing aside a treelimb that stood in their
path. "How do you--"
The dragon was caught short of breath by the sight from above. It was as if
someone had brought down Unicron's head into this timeframe... but it was missing the
horns.
And it didn't particularly resemble Unicron. It looked more like...
"STARSCREAM!" Copperhead roared, his optics flaring green. "I always knew
he was ambitious, but never thought he'd be capable of something like that... Dragon, get
me up there."
Tyrannix nodded and complied, transforming to the form of an immense golden
dragon. He grasped the relatively Copperhead in his talons and flapped his wings hard,
providing hurricane force lift to the Autobot-sized dragon. "Up we go," he chortled,
rising toward the odd craft that hung in the sky above them.
Screamfire, as he jokingly referred to himself now, sat, locked into the massive
floating throne. He cocked an eyebrow at the thoughts approaching... both were
somewhat familiar; not thoughts and minds he'd encountered during his time in the Beast
Wars, but two minds-- two souls-- he remembered from the past. Souls from the Great
Wars. "Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered, allowing them within.
**Earth, 2017
"You sure it's safe, Big bot?" Cavalier sniped.
"It's safe," Prime rumbled. "For Primus' sake, transform."
The black and white Autobot did as she was told, switching into the sportscar shell
she wore. "Where are we headed anyway?"
"Kup gave us this address, but he didn't say who our contact was."
Cavalier "nodded" over the comm. Between herself and the nightwatch-blue and
starlight-black car behind her, the streets were empty. "Doesn't feel right," Cav muttered,
taking a curve a bit too fast. Her tires squealed against the pavement. Her companion
was a bit slower and more steady in her pace, but both kept above fifty miles per hour.
"I don't even wanna know why Kup said we'd have to go in at three a.m. I should
be recharging."
"Cav, quit whining. Our comm might be monitored. With Black Zarak's and
Overlord's lackies puttering around on Terra, Primus know who might be listening."
"Gotcha, bigbot," Cavalier noted, and shut her communicator off.
A few minutes later, the black car stopped, leaving Cavalier to zoom a half a block
before noticing. "Sheesh," she muttered aloud, "see what happens when you put on radio
silence?"
"Cav, be quiet, ok?"
"Fine."
It was the place Kup had told them about. Run down, dingy, condemned. Seemed
like a brilliant place for a Decepticon stoolie to hide out, especially considering that Black
Zarak and Overlord were now in command. Zarak had hunted down the two remaining
Seeker brothers and had them imprisoned and tortured, converting them to mindless
attack drones. It seemed these days, the days of Victory Lio and Star Saber and whatever
they were calling themselves when combined, every bot had become a Headmaster or a
Pretender or a Brainmaster. The Decepticon Breastforce-- Cav always giggled at the
mention of the Breastforcers-- were the toughest Decepticon team yet, striking fear into
every Autobot not silly enough to mock their name, striking death and dismemberment
into those that did.
Strange days, these were. Days that Artemis Prime found exhilerating.
She transformed, placing her hand on Cavalier's shoulder to silence her again.
"Just keep your vocoder in the off position, Cav. He's probably leading us into a trap."
"Kup?"
"No... the informant." Artemis reached for the handle of the large garage door and
hauled on it, effortlessly coiling it upward and allowing herself and her companion
entrance.
"Welcome," a voice called from the cavernous garage the two found themselves in.
"Close that door."
Artemis complied, and trundled the gate down again, shrouding herself and
Cavalier in blackness. Half a klick passed before a pale green light emerged from the
floorboard beneath them, as if they were above another room. "Go down the stairs."
Cavalier looked around the dim room, then scoffed. "What stairs?"
Then there were stairs, starting at floor level and leading downward. Large
enough for two sportscars to track down, these were obviously built by the structure's
Cybertronian inhabitants. Certainly not of human design, that was for sure, Artemis
thought.
"Ok," Prime ordered. "Our turn to give the commands. Show yourself."
"Can't just yet," responded their host. "Don't worry, you'll get what's coming to
you. Kup said you'd be a little rash in your actions. Remember something, Artemis
Prime: you're not in control for once. Strap in and enjoy the ride."
Cavalier went down the stairs first, weapon drawn, followed by Artemis in the
same position. "Better play along," she muttered.
"Best holster your arms, girls," the voice ordered again. "My other guests aren't
in the mood to kill you."
Again, knowing how hopelessly outnumbered they probably were, Cavalier and
Artemis did as they were ordered to, replacing their weapons into their respective
subspace hutches. Cavalier snorted. "Oh, that's just Arty," Cav chuckled, aping the
accent of her friend from back home, Britz. "She's 'armless."
"Be quiet, Cavalier," Artemis ordered for the fifteenth time that day. "We're here,
we're unarmed, now it's time for you to fulfill your half of the agreement."
"Fine, fine," the disembodied host chuckled. The undulating green light faded into
darkness, then undulated back into a line of harsh beams. Beneath the furthest one stood a
form Artemis would have rather not seen.
"Long time no see, Arty," he chuckled, the light shimmering on his green and
yellow armor. "Have a seat."
He waved his hand and two chairs emerged from the floor directly behind the two
Autobots. "Please... no animosity. We're all just doing our jobs. As a show of good
faith, I've installed psionic dampers in the room-- especially active around your positions,
Arty. Hi Cav." The Seeker winked.
Cavalier waved meekly at Parseltongue-- ten years prior, they'd wrangled, but
nothing severe. Little property damage. A bit of emotional turmoil, but she'd grown past
it.
"Kup sent you to me because, in the past, I've had a few choice words against
Deszaras. Overlord, too... Never could figure why anyone would want to depose
Galvatron."
Artemis could have given him millions of reasons: one for each life taken by that
madman, but she mentally declined. This situation called for a little more tact than usual.
"Anyway, about three years ago, the moment Deszaras took over the Decepticons,
I went into hiding with a few of my more loyal cohorts, and we started sort of a
Decepticon counterculture. As loathe as I am to admit it, much of our new philosophy is
Autobot in nature, but it's all for the Decepticon cause. You should understand that, huh,
Arty?"
Artemis smiled-- sincerely. This sounded comfortingly familiar.
"I suppose you could say I've built up a small army."
Artemis stopped him. "What do you want from us?"
"I'm asking for weapons. In return, technical specifications for Earthbound
Decepticon installations."
"I'd have to discuss it with Star Saber..."
Artemis almost cringed at the mention of that overbearing jerk, but she held her
tongue.
"There's not time," Parseltongue persisted, clenching his hands into fists. "And
when have you EVER run your plans by the Prime in charge?"
Artemis smirked. "Thought you'd turned off your psionics," she snorted.
Parseltongue grinned in return.
"So..." Parseltongue started.
"So I'll try and get you what you need. It'll take a week at least. Sneaking
weapons out of the armory-- especially past Raiden and Vic Leo-- is gonna be tough, plus
I'd have to come up with an excuse to get to New York from Autobase..."
"Arty, I could kiss you if I didn't hate your very spark!" Parseltongue laughed.
"Best not try... Screamer's watching you." Artemis pointed her fingers at her
optics, then back at Parseltongue.
"Heh... it's good to know he still cares."
Artemis stood, followed timidly by Cavalier, and, keeping her optics transfixed on
Parseltongue the entire time, made her way back to the staircase, vanishing into the above
room. The passageway sealed behind them, leaving Parseltongue alone.
"Here but for the grace of Primus," he muttered, sitting at a control panel and
gazing at the display. "I wish I knew whose side was the right one."
Artemis was fast in her return to the Autobot outpost. Kup sat, a glimmer in his
tired, ancient optics, knowing full well where his prize pupil and good friend had been.
"How did it go?" he croaked as Artemis entered the command center. The lights
were dimmed, Kup's head was bowed. He seemed to be either praying, or sleeping.
Artemis grinned mischievously in the wan light, then answered, halfway joking, the other
half dead serious about ripping out Kup's core processor one diode at a time.
"You dirty old man!" she scowled. "You KNOW how I feel about him."
"Me too, Kup!" Cavalier barked from the check-in console. "He's vaped more of
my friends then I can count on one hand."
"Necessary evil if we want the information he's offering. Deszaras isn't exactly on
the same level as the Stunticons-- hell, not even Cyclonus and Galvy. He's the worst
they've got."
Artemis nodded. "I remember him as a punk kid," she snorted. Kup nodded in
reply. "Rose through the ranks pretty damn quick."
"Quicker than you'd think. He was behind the scenes at Decepticon HQ while
Black Zarak had his little reign of terror, according to our sources. He's bad news. If he
gets control of some of Cybertron's more valuable assets, it's bye-bye Autobots."
Cavalier whined from her workstation. "Could you can the doomsaying, you two?
I paid good network time to Hax and Krax for these codes, and your declaring the
downfall of Autobot civilization isn't helping."
"Cavalier, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, I don't want you
hanging around those glitch blasted punk kids," Kup chided sternly.
"Whatever you say, Grampa," Cavalier mocked. "Desperate times call for
desperate measures, and you two should know that more than anyone."
Artemis was unfazed by Cavalier's logic, and Kup was even more irritated.
"What kind of codes, anyway?" Artemis inquired after a moment's glaring match.
"Raiden's passcodes. Security dispensation from the Quartermaster's Office."
Artemis smiled. "At least they know their way around a slicer's manual," she
chuckled. "Patch me those codes, I'll go claim the material in a few moments."
Raiden, the Autobot quartermaster, also happened to be a Brainmaster, binary
bound to a hefty Scotsman named Duncan. "What ye be needin', lass?" Raiden asked, the
brogue thick in the otherwise Samurai-styled bot's voice.
"Just this," Artemis replied authoritatively, handing Raiden the pad with her
clearance on it.
"Target practice for the bairns?" he chuckled. "G'head, I'll check ye out when
ye'r done."
Artemis complied, pulling a hover-pallet behind her as she loaded it with various
powerpacks, energon ammunition, and weapons ranging from beam-bladed melee combat
items, to rocket launchers. Within ten minutes, Artemis had filled the pallet high with the
materiel and brought it back to Raiden's desk.
"That all for ye?" he chortled, looking at Artemis's load.
"That's it," she smiled, a bit nervous, but no more than normal-- this was
something she had done before, apparently.
"Just sign here, and authorize there. This is going to the defense force's account,
ne?"
"Right," she responded, pressing her thumb's digital imprinter onto the pad.
"That's it, have a nice day."
Artemis swayed a little as the breeze buffeted the rooftop. Residence Block D was
like the other Res blocks: Spartan, cubical, and matte silver with a single gold stripe near
the roof. The starlight black and night-watch blue femme loved these buildings: they
reminded her of the kind of thing she remembered as a much younger soldier among the
Decepticons-- none of the cushiness the Autobots indulged in, none of the amenities, all of
the thrill of being a soldier, fighting for a cause, and being packed like petrosardines into a
galvanized tin can.
"Hey Big Bot, what's the happs?" Cavalier's chipper voice called from the
staircase.
"I'm thinking."
"Oh," the black and white femme responded. "Need some company?"
"No," Prime replied coldly, her knees folded against her chest, arms wrapped
around them, her entire body engaged in rapt contemplation. "Just some quiet."
"Ok. Kup wanted me to tell you there's a comm from our mysterious benefactor...
whenever you're ready."
"Understood," Artemis replied, and waved Cav back down the stairs.
Mysterious benefactor. That word-- and its connotation-- rung sourly in Artemis's
mind. Primus, she hated thinking about it, but like every bad memory, ghosts always
haunted the familiar. Parseltongue, she recalled, had been little more than a brainless
marauder. But something about him, before Megatron, she wagered, had attracted her so
much. And that's why it was so hard to truly despise him.
He'd done such horrible things, committed terrible atrocities-- Nekhrid Seven
foremost among them in her mind-- but they were in the name of the Decepticons. At
Nekhrid Seven, sixty Stratabots-- valiant knights of Cybertron, honorable warriors all,
Autobot or not-- had been vaporized in an extremely unfair test of might on
Parseltongue's behalf. Their squad captain-- a Prime that Artemis barely knew, yet
respected all the same-- had been captured, tortured by Parseltongue to the point where he
lost the ability to speak for three whole years. There was no way in the Pit she could
forgive him that.
Then there was what he'd done to Cavalier. That was something she'd rather not
even consider at this point in time-- the wounds were still too fresh. Cavalier dealt with it
gracefully, which surprised Artemis. She shook her head at the possible psychological
anguish Cavalier hid under her faceplate. No chance for a reprieve there, either. She'd have to deal with the past, and move on.
Not bloody likely.