"Try to land on the dark side of Cybertron," I told the jet. "In an unpopulated area, if you can. We don't want to run into any, uh, troublesome Maximals."
It was a stupid thing to say--how long had we been at peace with the Maxies? A few centuries?--and I half-expected him to demand who I was or how I had become stuck on Unicron's head. But he stayed silent, either unable or uninclined to ask.
Soon Cybertron loomed in front of us, that tired red sun blazing behind it, giving it a bloody halo. I stirred a little at the sight; normally an intricate web of lights lit the planet, but now Cybertron was still and dark, with only a faint glimmer here or there. "Must be in the middle of an energy crunch," I muttered. "Maybe we can land incognito after all . . ."
A crimson bolt of energy swept past the cockpit.
". . . or not."
A few more blasts shot past us as I peered through the hyperplastic of the cockpit. They originated from various parts of Cybertron, mostly from the dimly glowing regions that marked the city-states. Automatic defenses. Great.
The jet didn't seem distressed at all, ignoring the barrage as he gracefully angled towards the planet. Hopefully that was a sign of confidence and not stupidity. Hopefully the fact that nothing had hit us so far was due to skill and not luck.
I wasn't optimistic.
A sudden burst of speed slammed me backwards as my transport abruptly dove towards Cybertron, leading with his left wing. I braced myself as he rapidly rolled. For an eternity, hail after hail of energy bolts lit the cockpit as they slid past . . . before abruptly ceasing. I adjusted my optic as the glare of the plasma faded; shadowy spires and towers sped past in a dizzying blur as the jet tilted and dodged.
"Cybertron." I paused. Trying to focus on the landscape outside was impossible, given Aerodrome's current speed, but still . . . Cybertron had never been so dark as this. But I had other concerns. "Why did the auto-guns target you?" I demanded. "Did you get on the Elders' bad side, or--"
The jet dove, and suddenly I could see the buildings below us, crumbling as red energy blasts lit into them. It took me a moment to realize that this time they were coming from Aerodrome himself this time.
"What in the galaxy--? You idiot, you'll get us both deactivated!!" Well, now I had a pretty good guess why they'd fired at him, anyway.
The idiot in question responded by concentrating his firepower on a large citadel below. As energy flared across it, I saw a huge Maximal insignia emblazoned on it . . . that and the dim figures scattering away from the building. Oh great. They'd be glad to see me, all right.
"Stop it!" I slammed a fist into Areodrome's control panel and the plane's flight faltered for an instant. "What the slag are you doing?"
He steadied himself and flew on in silence. I took a deep breath. At least he'd stopped firing. For now.
"Listen, fly boy, maybe you have a death wish, but I . . ." I paused, stared out the cockpit, scowling. Dark.
"Okay. We have a few cycles before the Guardians turn up and blow us to slag. So we're going to have to land and then we're going to have to hide. You got that? Land. Hide. Don't shoot anything."
The jet obediently slowed as I retrieved my guns from the floor. I raised my head just in time to see a tattered veil of--something--looming in front of us. Areodrome ripped through it and I instinctively jerked back as heavy tendrils of dark green splattered across the jet.
"By the Pit," I muttered as the sludge oozed over the cockpit, blocking my view. "I hope he can pick a good landing spot on his own."
I checked my guns again.
Soon the plane was slowing, jolting as the landing gear hit the ground. I tensed as the red hyperplastic above me slowly rose, with green ooze dribbling off the sides. Rolling out before the shield was halfway open, I hefted both guns and flashed a look around.
"Great Primus . . ."
Snarls of dark green and brown were draped across the surface; underneath, I could see a faint gleam of tarnished metal.
" . . . Cybertron?"
I crouched defensively as I tried to take it in. Vines, laced with circuitry, had pulled down a small set of buildings on my left; to the right, a larger structure--probably a refinery--sagged hopelessly, unable to support its weight as weirdly branched trees took over its towers.
I stared down at the carnage from my perch on the jet, then cautiously leapt down, landing on the clear space stripped away by the plane's landing. Everything else was slathered with decomposing greenery. As I picked my way through it, Areodrome transformed and activated his hoverjets.
Lucky bastard.
I slowly rounded a skyscraper--well, it had been a skyscraper before half of it had rotted away--gritting my teeth with every step that I took. A lattice of fiber-optic cables and a kind of green netting meshed together, forming groundcover, but it wasn't that strong and my feet went right through it . . . into a couple inches of slime below it.
Aside from the nausea factor, it was leaving a nice trail of footprints for any pursuers, clearly leading away from the scarred foliage of the landing site.
Great.
Areo trailed along behind me, his claw-like hands clenching as his head swivelled from side to side. He raised his arms like he wanted to use those missile launchers, but lowered them when I scowled.
"I think we've got enough problems without leaving a trail of laserburns behind as well." I snapped. "Now get over here and give me a lift."
So I ended up clinging to the jet's shoulders in lizard mode, keeping an eye out for the Guardians, the peacekeepers, who would dutifully gun us down if they got the chance.
Anything to keep Cybertron safe, right? If it was Cybertron.
I shifted uneasily. Cybertron had never had plants. Cybertron had never had trees. Cybertron was made of good, solid metal. But in the sky I could see the dim outline of Unicron's head. No other planet could have that satellite . . .
"Keep an optic online for energon," I said, focusing on my own problems. Once that emergency cell ran out, I would have to depend on my in-system energy supply. It wouldn't have been a problem except for my injuries; I was leaking energon and coolant at a steady rate. And that was another problem. Even if I found a lake of energon, it would leak right out of my broken conduits unless I found a convenient CR chamber to start repairs. If the Guardians found me in this condition, they'd crush me like an Insecticon clone.
Of course, they could blow me to slag even if I were factory fresh. Still, no sense in leaving a trail of energon for them . . .
Aerodrome suddenly paused, eyes narrowing. From beyond the scattered ruins came the faint crunch of footsteps. I swore softly.
They had arrived.
