Chapter Three
Through his visor, Dusty scanned the area ahead of him, calculating.
Until now he had been able to keep ahead of the searching army. They had boiled out of the power plant and were already past the melted boulder that had so recently given him cover from which to fire. Then, after he had taken down Thrust, he had noticed that Megatron had come out from the building and was standing out in the open.
It had been a clear shot; one explosive round into the neck and the Decepticon threat would have been reduced to a squabbling horde.
Unfortunately, Starscream had chosen that moment to question an order, and in doing so had inadvertently saved his leader's life -- a fact Megatron hadn't seemed to appreciate much. Sniper and Seeker alike were now cursing the jet's rotten timing.
Now they were getting close... Too close. Megatron was a battle master whose abilities were leaps beyond Dusty's, and in moments it seemed he had triangulated where a sniper might be, unfazed by the fact that he could not see his enemy. Already the jets were brushing too close to Dusty's cover. It was time to fall back to the next hill, and from there it was a matter of timing to pull off a disappearing retreat.
He transformed, his upper legs sliding into the lower portions. The upper half of his cockpit slid out from the cargo area to meet with the bottom half which slid up from his chest, sealing without a crack. As he dropped forward to the ground, no longer supported by his feet which had folded in, his arms snapped up and attached themselves onto the side of his cockpit, metal sliding over his fists to meet smoothly with the main hull. The fins located on his upper arms and lower legs unfolded as he settled onto his levitation cushion.
He moved out silently, not engaging his turbine engines. His levitation units weren't as fast or as manuverable, but they made less noise and left hardly any trace for scanners to pick up. That was how he'd been able to evade the confused Decepticons for so long.
Sol had come up over the horizon and brightened the sky, makng it easier to see, so Dusty kept to the trees as much as possible. He couldn't risk being spotted by the jets.
Suddenly Dusty came to an abrupt halt and, after a breath of a pause, he transformed out of his vehicle mode into a crouch, facing the way he had been retreating, his rifle ready in his hands. Something had made a sound, ever so faint, that just didn't fit in.
He was sure that any wildlife that had been residing in the vicinity had fled, so it couldn't have been an Earthen animal. What had it been? He waited, every sense straining to pick out what didn't belong in an environment that was still so alien to him.
He could almost feel the Decepticon army coming closer and closer to his position as he watched intently over his rifle. Their proximity sent a creepy feeling along his back that he quickly tried to squelch, with only partial success. The Seekers were starting to circle so closely that he could see the dirt streaks marring their colors.
A shadow of a movement drew his attention to his left. He activated sensors in his visor which let him detect the shape stalking within the shrubbery.
Ravage! So Soundwave had still been able to eject the cassettes!? He had aimed to damage or temporarily destroy that ability. Apparently that shot had missesd its mark as well.
Blaster slag! He was going to have to do something, and fast, or else he would be at the bottom of the heaviest dog pile the Earth had ever seen. He didn't want his only memorial to be an impact crater in the dirt.
From the slope behind him he heard the sound of rocks being kicked and sent tumbling by metallic feet, telling him that the ground forces were moving closer. Wood snapped under treads -- too loud and close. He had to move forward or be found by the ground forces. Yet if he dared to move and Ravage saw him, he would be in the same position.
Between a smelting pit and a pack of hungry Torans.
His mouth set in a thin line, Dusty flipped a switch on his rifle, changing the firing from the upper 'cannon' to the lower barrel and setting it to automatic.
Well, he decided as he sighted on the slinking metallic shape, here goes nothing. Holding the rifle against his hip, he started to squeeze the trigger...
* * *
Ravage halted, head cocked at an angle while his ears constantly moved back and forth, scanning for any sound. He was actually listening for a particular sound, one that he had been hearing until just now.
The sound had been faint, and could easily be mistaken for the sound of the wind. Except there hadn't been any wind blowing, and though he couldn't quite say what it was, there was just something wrong with the sound. Something that just barely brushed the audio sensors.
Ravage started moving again, cautiously, ears straining for anything as he moved towards the general direction where he thought he had last heard the sound. It had to be the Autobot. A soon to be dead Autobot...
* * *
A roar of nearby engines caused Dusty to jerk his finger off the trigger. Swamp mud! If there was a jet in the air near his position it wouldn't take a mathematician to figure out where he was if he fired. And as good as he was, he would have as much chance against Megatron's forces as would a bug would against a windshield.
A flicker of shadow from above made him to duck instinctively, doing his best to blend with the terrain by adjusting his colors accordingly. A Conehead had passed in front of the rising sun; he watched as the Decepticon circled and dissappeared from view.
Now there was no one in the air above him -- they seemed very hesitant to outdistance the ground forces. He should be able to snap off a quick disabling shot at Ravage, he thought as he looked back to where Ravage was... Or where he had been.
Ravage had disappeared.
Dusty hissed silently to himself and quickly scanned the area while his coloring faded back to normal. Ravage was good, which made Dusty's situation undeniably bad. He had to keep retreating, though. He could hear the ground forces creeping up the hill.
He started moving again, traveling at an angle to Ravage's last known position, and alert for anything that might tell him where the black Transformer was...
Light streamed in through the high, narrow windows of the power plant. The earth's sun could be seen through the newly created holes in the plant's walls as it rose into the blue sky. To the workers slaving below it meant the dawn of another day and the death of a hope born last night. After the sixth shot they had heard nothing but search patrols, and could only assume the worst.
To Megatron it was a reminder that a rogue Autobot was still eluding all of his forces.
He stomped over to Soundwave, who with the help of Buzzsaw had repaired himself temporarily. The communication specialist was kneeling beside the inert forms of Rumble and Frenzy, working on them while Buzzsaw kept watch over the humans.
As Megatron paused to watch, Soundwave finished his work and the pair shifted into their cassette forms. For a moment Megatron hoped that Soundwave had gotten the two up and running again, but it was quickly obvious from their dull colors that they were still inactive. Soundwave picked the cassettes up and placed them inside his chest before getting to his feet, favoring his wounded side. Another reminder of what one accursed far-shooting Autobot could do.
Megatron put a fist on his hip as he scanned the building. So much energy; so much power in his hands. Bah, so there was one Autobot running around. Just one. Soon he would run low on power and would have to find some place to resupply. Most likely he would go to the Ark. Megatron's army, on the other hand, now had limitless resources. They'd be ready for him.
A familiar tread made its way to his side. Megatron didn't need to look to see who it was. In his present mood, the mere thought of yet another verbal battle made his optics narrow ever so slightly.
"I have seen to it that the Autobot will not escape, Megatron, as only I could." Yes, that was Starscream's voice, ever bordering on insubordinate.
The Seeker turned his head this way and that, looking around the building. "What has required your great courage here?" His voice turned to silk with just the right measure of curiosity. "Surely Soundwave, as damaged as he is, is more than able to handle this building full of pitiful humans."
Megatron turned and started walking around the power plant again, not bothering to rise directly to Starscream's jab.
"Look at it," he said instead, waving a hand at the piles of energon being produced. "All of this... mine."
He emphasized the word mine, his own reminder to Starscream as to who was still in charge around here. "Have you ever seen so much energy, Starscream?"
A light on Soundwave's shoulder started flickering, making him pause in midstride before turning and interrupting Megatron. "Warning. Strong energy transmissions detected."
Megatron glanced at Soundwave with concern. Had the shot done more damage than than they'd realized? They were in the middle of a power plant!
"Of course," he confirmed. "From the generators, Soundwave."
"Negative, Megatron," Soundwave refuted firmly. "From primitive jet engines."
Megatron's eyes narrowed. So the humans dared rebel against him? They would learn a harsh lesson... and he knew just the mech to teach them. Besides, it would relieve him of Starscream's company for a while.
"Starscream, go and --"
"I anticipated your order," Starscream interrupted, one corner of his mouth twitching up slightly. "O fearless leader."
Once transformed, the Seeker didn't even bother to head for the exit doors, but instead rammed through the ceiling. Megatron glared at the new ventilation system, then lowered his gaze to the bullet hole in Soundwave's chest.
Why couldn't that Autobot at least shoot the right Decepticon?
***
Ravage crept through the foliage as stealthily as any jungle predator. Had he given himself time to think on it, he would have been hard put to bring to mind any other bot who could move so quietly.
His ear twitched and he paused, two paws freezing in mid-air as he strained to hear. Had he heard the crunch of a foot putting weight on the ground? Of dirt particles being ground beneath a metal heel? Keeping still, he tested the air. Nothing.
Again he sniffed, but detect nothing that smelt like it was from Cybertron. He was about to continue searching another way when he felt a faint brush of wind. Acting on instinct, he drew another breath.
And opened his mouth in a small smile of victory as he was rewarded with the best results. He had caught the enemy's scent.
The enemy was close, very close. He quickly started off in the direction of the scent, getting even closer before the wind died down and stopped bringing the scent to him. But he didn't need his nose anymore. He detected movement, and was able to see the enemy for the first time.
His eyes glowing slightly, Ravage positioned himself to leap onto the enemy Transformer. One swift bite into the neck, and the victory would be his.
* * *
A soft noise was his only warning before a weight slammed Dusty forward and off balance, pain blossoming in his shoulder as something tore at it. Ravage! The cat's razor teeth were within inches of his neck!
Dusty thought fast. Instead of resiting the forward motion caused by Ravage's impact, he shoved off with his feet and turned it into a somersault. He landed hard on his back, letting Ravage take the brunt of the impact.
Ravage did his best to hang on, but the shock of being crunched between the heavy Autobot's armor and the unyielding ground shook him loose. Free of the cassette's teeth, Dusty rolled to one side, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and Ravage.
Ravage snarled in rage. He had almost had the Autobot's lifelines crushed between his teeth. Another second, and he would have eliminated the sniper without even calling for backup. He twisted and got to his feet with another growl. He could still make this kill.
Dusty came out of his roll facing Ravage, one leg folded beneath him and the other stretched towards the rock formation behind. He dropped his rifle to catch himself on his right hand, sending a jolt of pain through his torn shoulder.
Ravage was already on his feet, eyes blazing as he whirled to face Dusty and spring towards him. There was no time to scoop up the rifle; Ravage would be all over Dusty in a sparkpulse, using his speed and smaller size to his own advantage.
In one blurring motion, Dusty yanked his baton out and sent it spinning to meet Ravage in midleap.
The cat's eyes widened as the flying object registered, but it was too late to dodge. The baton smacked into his forehead, denting it, and ricocheted off at an angle, still a whirling blurr.
The impact snapped the cat's head back and he crumpled upon landing, sliding to a stop near Dusty's outstretched hand. Dusty straightened and caught the returning baton without taking his eyes off the cassette.
Ravage was still conscious. His optics were flickering dimly, and he was struggling to get up. Given time, he would recover and bring Megatron's entire army down on Dusty's head. Couldn't have that.
Dusty brought his fist down in a hammer blow. The Decepticon let out a soft hiss and stopped moving, his optics dark. Satisfied that the cassette would be out of action for the day, and probably the one after as well, Dusty retrieved his rifle and got to his feet.
He had only taken a few steps away from the scene of the fight when an unearthern shriek pierced the air above him. He lunged forward instantly, feeling heat wash across his heels as laser fire raked the area he had just occupied. He hit the dirt, slid, and rolled into a half-kneeling position, his darker patches evaporating to match the tan of the ground. Random splotches of richer tan appeared, mimicking the nearby rock formations. It wouldn't fool Laserbeak for long, but a few moments was all he needed.
He pulled out his other baton and flipped them both over to join the long ends together. Before they'd quite touched, a ribbed cylindrical mechanism appeared from subspace, enclosing the ends of both batons. Dusty locked them firmly together, feeling the click of connection in his mind.
He froze as Laserbeak made another pass overhead, trying to blend with the brush and rocks. The baffled cassette swung his head back and forth. There was no way a bot that big could just crawl under a rock and disappear!
He flew on, still searching. Dusty gave another mental command and pulled the right baton out of the join band, trailing a luminous blue energy line between band and baton. He waited as Laserbeak wheeled for another pass, spotted him with a triumphant shriek and opened fire.
Wait... wait...
Dusty held his ground as the bolts struck ever closer, waiting until they scorched his armor.
Almost... now!
Dusty surged to his feet and sent the loose baton into the air with a flick of his wrist, the engery line hissing through the air after it. Laserbeak hit the line with a squawk of surprise as his small body became the fulcrum of a dizzying wraparound derby.
Dusty felt the line tighten as the airborne baton ran out of slack and hooked over Laserbeak's wing. Dusty turned as the mechanical condor flew over him and tightened his grip on the second baton in anticipation.
The next instant Laserbeak ran out of line and found himself arcing towards the ground. Only his quick reaction saved him from a high-speed introduction to Mother Earth; he rolled out of the unexpected dive and veered towards Dusty, intending to blind the Autobot with a blast to the visor.
Laserbeak's maneuver caught Dusty by surprise. The Autobot whipped up his arm to protect his face and flipped out his fins to form a shield. The bolts dissipated harmlessly across his armor. It would have been a different story had Laserbeak hit his visor.
The Autobot ducked as Laserbeak whizzed overhead and realized that he was now on a collision course with the rock formation that Dusty had been eclipsing. He tried to pull up, but the baton and ever-tightening line kept him from gaining altitude in time. He had time for just one fleeting thought.
This is not my day.
Dusty winced at the sound of metal smacking rock. He hunted through the brush until he found poor Laserbeak -- on the ground and out for the count. He freed the baton and line from the cassette and surrounding brush, then reeled the line in until the batons were once again connected. Another mental command sent the join band back into subspace for storage. He flipped the separated batons around and slid them back into place along his sides.
Suddenly he remembered why he had been so keen on keeping a cease fire and looked around, surprised that there were no Decepticon jets diving in for the kill. Had they been anywhere near the area, they would surely have noticed the scuffling. And if they'd radioed his position to the others, they should have all been on him faster than Starscream could tick off Megatron. Yet he couldn't so much as hear a jet.
Had he died and gone to Cybertron?
He activated his helmet radio and flipped through known Decepticon channels.
Nothing.
He cocked his head and broadened the search until he hit an active channel. But it wasn't the Decepticons transmitting.
"Carrot, watch your six!"
"Tagged the blue F-15."
"The red one is on me!"
"Slaggin' Decepticons! They shot down Hurl!"
"Smee, Suntan, split up. Now!"
"I got a lock on the black -- He vanished! He just disappeared!"
"Venom Squad, Control. Be advised; The black F-15, designation Skywarp, has short distance warp ability. We think his favorite trick is to reappear at his attacker's six."
Dusty frowned slightly at the strange transmissions until realization dawned. He was hearing human pilots in combat with the Seekers. So they were in the air... but where?
He pulled a sensor from his utility belt, wincing as the movement jostled his damaged shoulder, and swept it in the direction of the distant power plant. The sensor obediently displayed a map of the area and overlaid it with blinking points to mark Decepticon positions -- as well as several unfamiliar signals, moving fast. The sensor tagged them as human fighter jets. Two of them winked out in mid-blink as he watched, victims of Decepticon ruthlessness.
There was something else too, a signal so faint that the sensor barely acknowledged its existence. Dusty stepped this way and that until reception improved and scrutinized the display so closely that his optics almost crossed behind his visor. Now he could tell that it was actually several signals... and they were closing in rapidly.
Well, well, well. Dusty felt a small smile play across his lips as his mood brightened considerably. It was about time!
He put the sensor away and transformed, engaging his turbine engines for greater speed, and took off in the direction of the power plant.
Love to hear how I'm doing! And I don't mind spelling mistakes getting pointed out either, I've read this and reread this so many times that I probably wouldn't catch them.