Just another really short update. I promise longer ones as the story picks
up.
Chapter Nine:
The freeways from the city had been easy to navigate: few transformers left the city to venture into the technorganic fields and she couldn't tell why. They were beautiful to her. And she was alone to enjoy it. Though she wished she weren't. She had left Silverbolt back at the apartment earlier that morning and it had pained her to do so. But she had had no choice. If her fate at the other end of this journey was a sour one, then would she want him there? Of course not, she thought. Nor would she expect him to want her there if the situation were reversed. No. This was her trek. Something called for her and it was about time she answered.
* * *
The ground floor of the Maximal Senate Tower was busier than he'd ever seen it since it had been repopulated but the amount of security droids bothered him. He'd never seen so many in one place: he didn't even know Cybertropolis had so many. Their featureless faces watched as he approached and it was only a matter of seconds before;
"Halt. Identify." The droid placed its hand against his chest and Cheetor looked down to it. He towered over the droid by at least a foot but the personality-challenged bot didn't seem intimidated. "What's going on here?" Cheetor quizzed. The droid stood motionless, silent for a few moments before saying, "Halt. Identify." Cheetor rolled his eyes and attempted to stand to the droids' side: and within the blink of an eye, Cheetor found the ready-end of a plasma rifle against his chest. "Identify." It repeated.
* * *
He watched as the Maximal hit the ground hard, the sound of the crack of his jaw; echoing through the orchard. What was happening? He couldn't understand the burst of activity here. Why had the security droids come here? How did they find it? He had hidden the orchard well - or so he thought. Obviously, his day had been full of wrong assumptions. And now, Nightscream was paying for that.
* * *
The first security droid had been dispatched easily; he hardly considered it a challenge. He turned from the smoking mess of metal, trying to understand what was happening. What the hell were they doing here? He could hear others approach at speed. He tried to calculate how many there were. 10? 20? Screw it, he thought and Silverbolt brought his fists up.
* * *
"How are we doing, Bludgeon?" Megatron asked. He paced the floor of Waspinator's energon bar, his left leg dragging behind him. His motors squealed as he moved; it was annoying but it had been the first empty body he'd found. No wonder, he now thought.
"Nightscream and Silverbolt are in our possession. Cheetor. . ." Bludgeon paused, "seems to have evaded us." He smiled, "It won't take long. Rattrap and Black Arachnia are missing however." He could hear Megatron snarl. "Botannica is dead also. So there's some comfort to be taken." He laughed; the cackle complimented his skeletal façade. Megatron stayed silent, obviously not sharing the bot's sense of humour. He stopped pacing and turned to Bludgeon.
"Double your efforts. These Maximals stood in my way once before. I don't want to see them picking up old habits. We cannot make a move on Iacon with this threat. I think you underestimate them Bludgeon." He paused for a moment, glancing down at his second-hand hands. "That was my down-fall."
Chapter Nine:
The freeways from the city had been easy to navigate: few transformers left the city to venture into the technorganic fields and she couldn't tell why. They were beautiful to her. And she was alone to enjoy it. Though she wished she weren't. She had left Silverbolt back at the apartment earlier that morning and it had pained her to do so. But she had had no choice. If her fate at the other end of this journey was a sour one, then would she want him there? Of course not, she thought. Nor would she expect him to want her there if the situation were reversed. No. This was her trek. Something called for her and it was about time she answered.
* * *
The ground floor of the Maximal Senate Tower was busier than he'd ever seen it since it had been repopulated but the amount of security droids bothered him. He'd never seen so many in one place: he didn't even know Cybertropolis had so many. Their featureless faces watched as he approached and it was only a matter of seconds before;
"Halt. Identify." The droid placed its hand against his chest and Cheetor looked down to it. He towered over the droid by at least a foot but the personality-challenged bot didn't seem intimidated. "What's going on here?" Cheetor quizzed. The droid stood motionless, silent for a few moments before saying, "Halt. Identify." Cheetor rolled his eyes and attempted to stand to the droids' side: and within the blink of an eye, Cheetor found the ready-end of a plasma rifle against his chest. "Identify." It repeated.
* * *
He watched as the Maximal hit the ground hard, the sound of the crack of his jaw; echoing through the orchard. What was happening? He couldn't understand the burst of activity here. Why had the security droids come here? How did they find it? He had hidden the orchard well - or so he thought. Obviously, his day had been full of wrong assumptions. And now, Nightscream was paying for that.
* * *
The first security droid had been dispatched easily; he hardly considered it a challenge. He turned from the smoking mess of metal, trying to understand what was happening. What the hell were they doing here? He could hear others approach at speed. He tried to calculate how many there were. 10? 20? Screw it, he thought and Silverbolt brought his fists up.
* * *
"How are we doing, Bludgeon?" Megatron asked. He paced the floor of Waspinator's energon bar, his left leg dragging behind him. His motors squealed as he moved; it was annoying but it had been the first empty body he'd found. No wonder, he now thought.
"Nightscream and Silverbolt are in our possession. Cheetor. . ." Bludgeon paused, "seems to have evaded us." He smiled, "It won't take long. Rattrap and Black Arachnia are missing however." He could hear Megatron snarl. "Botannica is dead also. So there's some comfort to be taken." He laughed; the cackle complimented his skeletal façade. Megatron stayed silent, obviously not sharing the bot's sense of humour. He stopped pacing and turned to Bludgeon.
"Double your efforts. These Maximals stood in my way once before. I don't want to see them picking up old habits. We cannot make a move on Iacon with this threat. I think you underestimate them Bludgeon." He paused for a moment, glancing down at his second-hand hands. "That was my down-fall."