(Verstand tanzt)
Dances of the Mind
Bourrée: Hot Stepping
Chapter 5:
Explosion
"The deepest fires burn within the hearts of men;
Alas, the savior sole is the heart itself."
"Echo patrol? You read me? Dammit, they should've checked in a full five ago."
"Don't sweat it, Jackson. I'll bet they're just making back from a trip AWOL."
Jet Jackson
put down the radio transceiver. "I don't
know…when was the last time you couldn't contact a pair of autobots?"
Scratch leaned back in his
chair. "Well, know, that poses an
interesting question. The last time I
tried to contact any autobots…hmmmm…wow thatmust've been that time I
needed a ride to the airbase. Strange I
got no response…"
Jet sighed and sat back down in the shade of the tent. He rubbed his chin in thought, then suddenly banged the table. The radio quivered. "I know what I'll do." He picked up the mic and keyed the talk switch. "CP? Give me C&C, 140th mechanized." Scratch cocked his head curiously towards Jet. The corner of Jet's lip twitched.
"Yeah, 140th? Hey, put up Hart. Yeah, tell him It's Jet. Hey Hart? Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I need a favor." Jet smiled mischievously at his Maximal friend. "Yeah, there someone I need to find. Mmmm, actually I was thinking of something else. You got access to the sats [satellites] right? Can you get me a pos on those two? Yeah. Flipside and Dart. Yeah ok."
Tapping his fingers on the table, Jet seemed self-content. Scratch's feline eyes seemed alit with a glow of their own, in addition to the one that was already present, that is. Jet suddenly asked, "Scratch, you speak any other languages?"
His tail twitched. "Like what?"
"I don't know. German? Russian? French?"
He shrugged. "It's all the same. Just a matter of programming I suppose."
"You mean you could just download something for that?"
"Well, I guess I could, but there might be a number of quirks. Like maybe I think I'm speaking English, but really I'm speaking Russian. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I don't know—I've always been a fan of the "old-fashioned" way of learning things, but when bit comes to byte, I suppose it's all the same."
The radio crackled to life. Jet grabbed the receiver. "What? Can't find them? Okay, well, thanks anyway." Jet frowned and scratched his ear. "Wow. You think something might have happened to them? Scratch?" He looked around. The Maximal was gone. His own breathing sounded harsh. Everything was utterly still...
"Looking for someone?" a harsh voice called.
Jet looked up to see a Decepticon pointing a laser rifle at him.
Stunned, he reached for the radio. "Ah ah ah," the Decepticon said, waving his weapon. "Now, you human, I suppose I'd better make use of you before I dispose of you. Please me and I shall grant you a quick and painless death. What is your position and rank?"
Jet saw a shadow moving out of the corner of his
eye. He stammered a few words of
jibberish, then stopped to inhale deeply.
"Time is not on your side, my fleshy friend," the decepticon said, beckoning
with his gun. "Your answer? Or shall you please me in another way?"
"Oh," Jet stammered. "I think...you may...be wrong...on that
count."
"Oh?" the decepticon replied mockingly.
"Yes, I believe so," a voice answered from behind. There was a huge flash and a brilliant cascade of sparks that caused Jet to fall over backwards. When he righted himself, he coughed through a thick cloud of smoke that had just formed. Through it, though, he could see the glowing eyes of Scratch.
"Jeezes christ what did you do?"
"Hmmm?" Scratch replied, displaying two objects he held in his hands. They were the leads of a power transmission line. Low current AC to minimize power loss in transmission, but that meant high voltage. Real high voltage. Jet sighed, "You know some commander is going to be wondering why his coffee is cold."
"Your welcome," Scratch replied, tossing the cables aside. "Don't worry about those—I'm sure your human friends have got the brains to shut off the generator sometime soon."
"Was that really necessary?"
"What you think I could take on that big hulk of a bastard?"
"No, I mean leaving me?"
"Ah—that—well, there wasn't really enough time to explain..."
Jet laughed. "Just forget it. I'm contacting intel. They'll want to see this first, I'm sure."
Zenith Prime looked at the plans before him. "So you really think that this is possible...that this will work?"
"If the men and bots are up to it—and it looks to me like they are," Colonel Gage said.
"The only things that worries me is if they don't bite the bait."
"You tell me. You know the enemy better," Colonel Gage replied, smiling.
"Well I do have to admit that the logic seems sound, but I guess that's what worries me. If you ask me, the safest plans are the ones that always end up sour."
"Now you're just being paranoid," Colonel Gage said matter-of-factly.
"I suppose," Prime replied, pausing for a time. "Slipstream?"
Slipstream was silent for a moment. "I think that you should be prepared for the worst."
"Aren't we always, though?" the Colonel replied.
"Then there is not much more that you can do," the transformer replied flatly.
"That's being rather pessimistic and cynical, isn't it?"
"He controls all. He rules all. Our efforts our pointless."
Colonel Gage stared in front of the former Predacon, who remained motionless. Gage snapped his fingers and waved his hands a few times in front of the transformer's glazed eyes. "Slipstream. Slipstream! It's Colonel Gage. Remember? The alliance? Wake up, Slipstream! The war is over!"
Slipstream shook his head and seemed to come out of a trance. His posture slackened as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry colonel, were you saying something?"
"Looks like you could use some down time to refuel and regen," Zenith said. He reached into a cabinet and produced a small energon crystal.
"Ah, many thanks," the former predacon replied, nodding with graciousness. He examined it and smiled at Zenith, "A ninety-five? Are you Autobots always live so luxuriously?"
Zenith shrugged, making it a point not to look directly back at Slipstream. "Well, we certainly know how to enjoy ourselves. Besides, I've known you long enough. A Cytex ninety-five and nothing less."
"How are you holding up these days, Slipstream? I mean it, seriously," the colonel asked, taking a seat at an adjacent armchair.
"I am…getting by. The...episodes...are less frequent," he replied carefully. He picked up the crystal, ingested it, and sighed. "It has been rough…adjusting...to these...new ideas."
"Well, I don't blame you. A veteran of the Great Wars and just about every conflict imaginable...I don't see how any one individual could have seen so much war."
"When you count the passing time in centuries, colonel, it becomes very easy to see."
"Well, I'm glad to see that you've come around, though. It is comforting to know that not every Decpticon, Predacon, or whatever-con has a black heart."
"This thing called war—we've had too much. For most—like me—it is the only thing we know. How can wars last thousands of years at time, you may think? To me that was the norm. When I first looked at human history, I was stunned to see such relatively short conflicts. I suppose that is what first caught my eye…" He trailed off. His eye fell upon his glass, realizing that it remained only a quarter full.
"Well, then. It's nice to see that you're coming around all right. Now about the present situation—have you seen the maps?"
"I can say with no more certainty with you, but indeed I agree that it does seem very likely that he will "bite the bait," as the human colloquialism goes. However, you must go to extra lengths to ensure its secrecy and to make the situation authentic. Your timetable, though politically and militarily very appealing, is too condensed. If you want to trick the likes of a decepticon and their allies, you must go to extra lengths beyond anything you would imagine."
He stood up and walked towards a window. Staring out for a moment, he spoke flatly without averting his survey of the outer world, "Do you recall the story of Coventry during World War II?"
The colonel nodded. "That was the civilian city that Churchill decided not to defend from German bombing. If he did, they would have figured out that the British cracked the enigma code and would have changed it."
Slipstream turned his head towards the colonel and fixed his eyes on him. "You must be prepared to make that sort of decision."
The colonel hesitated a moment. "Times aren't the same anymore. Laws..."
"Laws are mortal tools of mortal beings, colonel. Just as easily as the ones that make them, they can be broken. And just as much as the ones that make them, they are often flawed. You do what you must. That is all you can hope to do. Laws are meaningless when it comes to survival."
Colonel Gage bit his lip, then nodded slowly. He let out a deep breath. "I...I know. Its just..." He shook his head.
"Colonel," Slipstream said, walking over to the husky man. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed ever so slightly. "The eyes of the world—the universe—are watching upon you, as they do always. You do what you must. History will tell your tale. For you, there is only silence."
The colonel nodded, walking slowly to the door. Zenith Prime watched the two leave, whispering a few words to each other yet. Quite a character, he thought to himself. And yet those words seem so familiar...
A distant rumbling. Tripwire snapped to attention, listening closely. "Someone's gonna get it up the tailpipe," he muttered to himself. "Alright, folks, looks like we've just become the main assault. The party's started without us. Move it in!"
They broke up into platoons and headed out towards the bridge. Already some commotion could be seen down below. People were waving hands back and forth at each other, shouting words which they could not discern. Off to one side, a small cluster of decepticons were getting ready for battle. They seemed too smug and satisfied.
Tripwire gave a signal and the mortars opened up, followed by the machine guns. An explosion blossomed on the far side of the river, harmlessly to one side, but then a second landed in the firing pit to which one of the large laser turrets was entrenched. "On my signal," Tripwire said. He ran down the slope, and threw a large smoke grenade canister, and the air was soon filled with red smoke. His company was somewhere behind him, but he didn't bother looking for them. Whipping out his laser rifle, he threw another smoke grenade onto the bridge.
The machine gunners were positioned on the sides, so they could still get shots at anything not already obscured, but the main spear of the attack was the infantry, with which they hoped to overwhelm the enemy. Hopefully, no one would be watching closely enough to set off explosives on the bridge. It did not look like a good day for a swim.
As suddenly as he was covered with smoke, he appeared on the other side. The gun crews were just beginning to bring the LL32 to bear, but enfilading fire poured onto the crew from behind him. Down the street, a tank turned the corner. It was a decepticon. The others might not be able to tell, but Tripwire could feel him. A few rounds of high explosive shells came whistling down the street. "Cover!" he shouted, diving for the ground.
Two were a near miss, but the third exploded directly behind him. He heard some screams, but the assault had to continue. The decpticon accelerated towards Tripwire—it was a challenge. Smiling to himself, Tripwire charged forward. At the last minute, the decpticon transformed and they were locked in close combat.
Sam Gradsen appeared on the other side of the smoke cloud, which was slowly beginning to dissipate. The platoon leader, Sergeant Summers, signaled them to stay close to the buildings. Already they could see machine gun positions opening up from the rooftops and upper windows. Some people would suddenly fall, silenced forever by distant snipers. It was going to be an ugly battle.
Sergeant Summers was making quick gestures with his arms. Two machine guns in the building ahead, third floor. He threw in a grenade, and immediately after the explosive went off, they charged inside. Storming up the stairs, they could hear voices. The first two people to reach the upper story threw grenades into the only two rooms there. A shriek was followed by the chattering of an OICW, then more shrieks. The machine guns fell silent.
As quickly as they went in, they were out, moving from house to house. From one of the windows, Sam spied Tripwire, but there was a dust cloud of dust kicked up in his vicinity.
Tripwire and the decpticon fell to the ground and tumbled, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. With a large clank, a huge metallic foot swung around and smashed him in the side. He rolled over and struggled to his feet, but the dust obscured his vision. He heard a footstep, and immediately dove towards the sound. At first he was met by dust, but as he skid, he felt something hard and grabbed a hold. He was rewarded with a grunt and the sound of steel on ground. Groping his way up, he attempted to get a better grip, but the decepticon kicked his hand away, spun around, and but two huge hands around his neck.
Despite the fact that transformers don't breathe, this was still a very uncomfortable position. It brought along with it a plethora of senses that he was not quite accustomed to. For instance, his head felt like it would pop off any moment. And there was the strange feeling of his joint stressing and straining in ways that they were not meant to. And then, of course, there was pure, utter pain.
He shoved one fist, then the other into the midsection of the decpticon, causing his opponent to lose his grip and stagger backwards. They were both circling each other now, both in half-crouched positions, and each waiting for the other to make a move. The decepticon reached back and quickly produced a stout blade with a nasty edge. He lunged forth, charging forward with sudden speed. Tripwire tried to parry, but he wasn't quite fast enough. The blade glanced off of his hip in a shower of sparks. He fell over in pain, and when he looked down, he saw a clean slice through his armor and just nicking the edge of his inner electronics. Nothing critical was damaged, but that could have easily been his head.
The decpticon was still slightly off balance from his charge, so this gave Tripwire time to get to his feet. As he whipped out his small sidearm, the decepticon knocked it out of his hands and kicked it away. Using his opponents momentum, Tripwire threw the decepticon to the ground in a cloud of dust, which placed him inadvertently closer to the plasma pistol. He reacted in the only way he could to stop him from retreiving the weapon—by jumping on top of the decepticon. However, the decepticon anticipated this and used the leverage to throw Tripwire backwards. He fell to the ground with a clatter, and then grunted as the weight of the decepticon fell upon him.
The knife, poised just above his head, came down fast, but Tripwire held back the decepticon's arms with all his might. Still, the blade edged closer. A malicious grin was visible on the face of the decepticon. "You weakling. You Autobots haven't changed a bit," he taunted.
All Tripwire could do was grunt as the blade edged closer. The decepticon, sensing near victory, pressed on. "We will crush you like we have done many times before, only this time you will be extinguished. Do you have any words for the history book?"
Tripwire heaved a little, then looked up with an evil grin of his own. "Don't...tread...on...ME!" He pushed back violently with such sudden force that the decepticon went head over heels. Tripwire was already on top of him. He balled up a huge fist and started smashing the face-plate of the decepticon. One after another, he delivered a series of smashing hits, making deep grunts with each blow. The decepticon's visor cracked. His facial armor began to deform. Sparks flew. A blow to the neck—another shower of sparks. Tripwire could feel the energy surging through him. He glanced a bit lower on his target and struck multiple times. At first the huge torso of the decepticon held, but gradually it began to dent inwards and a crevasse formed. He picked up the fallen blade and screamed, shoving it deep within the spark cage of the decepticon.
A huge light flashed and for a moment the two were bathed in a stream of energy. Tripwire staggered backwards from the metallic hulk that was once alive. His optics were not making sense. He glanced left and right, staggering and trying to right himself. Finally, the world swirled and he found himself staring at a slowly fading sky.
