Chapter Ten:
He stood amongst the flames as the orchard burnt to the ground around him. Waves of acrid, heavy smoke blew past him: obscuring the view he had of the blaze. Head of Cybertropolis security Ramjet waved his arm in a wide arc in an effort to clear it. The smoke cleared for a moment as:
The fist had caught him off-guard and he fell, the sound of his bulk hitting the ground echoed loudly throughout the cavern. Ramjet brought his hand up and rubbed his jaw. Mech fluid trickled down the side of his mouth as he saw his attacker emerge from the smoke. "Security droids! Maximal Rattrap detected!!"
* * *
Cheetor ran, never really knowing where he should go. What had happened back at the Senate Tower? Why had the droids turned on him? His mind raced as he tried to find answers. Obviously someone wanted him out of the way that was for sure, but who? And why? He needed to know but more importantly, right now; he needed shelter from the security droids that were hot on his trail. It wouldn't take them long to find him, he thought and with that, he transformed.
* * *
Rattrap was quickly running out of bio-grenades; the last few he'd used on two groups of droids. The technorganic explosion would slow them down but not for long. He had to get to the surface. He had to find Nightscream, find out what the hell was going on. He turned quickly to his right and caught Ramjet in the corner of his eye aiming his blaster rifle. He fired.
* * *
Navigating the streets was harder than he had anticipated as he sped through; dodging transformers left, right and centre. He weaved in and out of crowds, hoping it would buy him time to:
Cheetor spied the entrance to the orchard up ahead. And around it, the same scene that had played in front of the Senate Tower. Security droids everywhere and from the opening, he could see clouds of dense, acrid smoke rise into the sky. What the hell was going on?!
* * *
The blast had come close, he could feel the heat against his cheek; and it threw his balance off. He fell to the floor, scrambling quickly to get to his feet; his wheels spinning against the ground. He could hear Ramjet approaching, the ex-Decepticon was heavy on his feet.
"Get up," he spat at Rattrap as he neared. "Get on your feet and face me." Rattrap laughed, "I'm trying." His wheels continued to spin until:
The light emanating from his transformation blinded Ramjet momentarily and he used this to his advantage. Grasping the weapon from Ramjet's hands, he transformed once more: stable on his feet now. . . . . .
And armed. He brought the weapon up against the Decepticon's chest. "Don't ever" he began, "touch my trees again." Ramjet's eyes opened wide in disbelief as he heard the rifle discharge.
* * *
Some of the droids had posed a problem for him and he now bore the signs of battle. His fur was charred in places; in others it was missing completely. He hurt. Never knowing pain like it, he continued to run down the tunnel; the thick smoke made it unbelievably hard to breath. But he ran onward until:
The rifle blast was loud, it hurt his aural sensors and Cheetor pushed harder now as the orchard came into view.
* * *
Ramjet lay motionless at Rattrap's feet, a smoking crater where his chest should be. Mech fluid ran from the wound, spilling out onto the dirt but Rattrap didn't seem to notice. He stared at the Decepticon for what seemed like an eternity before he raised the rifle again. And again, he fired. Ramjet's arm separated from its mounting, the laser blast cutting through the wing protruding from his back. The blast threw up dirt as again, Rattrap fired.
And again.
And again.
And:
"Rattrap!" The voice echoed and Rattrap turned to the source. Cheetor had transformed and now stumbled into the orchard, he was obviously in a weakened state. "Spots?" Rattrap quizzed, "What the hell happened to you?" He moved away from, what remained of, Ramjet. He dropped the rifle. Cheetor approached slowly, his eyes on the burning crops. The smoke was easing and the damage was becoming clear:
Nothing had survived, he could see that now. The thought saddened him. All their work, all of Botannica's work. It lay in smouldering piles of ash. "How did this happen?" he asked. Rattrap neared him and took his arm, allowing Cheetor to rest upon him. "I thought you could've told me." he replied.
He stood amongst the flames as the orchard burnt to the ground around him. Waves of acrid, heavy smoke blew past him: obscuring the view he had of the blaze. Head of Cybertropolis security Ramjet waved his arm in a wide arc in an effort to clear it. The smoke cleared for a moment as:
The fist had caught him off-guard and he fell, the sound of his bulk hitting the ground echoed loudly throughout the cavern. Ramjet brought his hand up and rubbed his jaw. Mech fluid trickled down the side of his mouth as he saw his attacker emerge from the smoke. "Security droids! Maximal Rattrap detected!!"
* * *
Cheetor ran, never really knowing where he should go. What had happened back at the Senate Tower? Why had the droids turned on him? His mind raced as he tried to find answers. Obviously someone wanted him out of the way that was for sure, but who? And why? He needed to know but more importantly, right now; he needed shelter from the security droids that were hot on his trail. It wouldn't take them long to find him, he thought and with that, he transformed.
* * *
Rattrap was quickly running out of bio-grenades; the last few he'd used on two groups of droids. The technorganic explosion would slow them down but not for long. He had to get to the surface. He had to find Nightscream, find out what the hell was going on. He turned quickly to his right and caught Ramjet in the corner of his eye aiming his blaster rifle. He fired.
* * *
Navigating the streets was harder than he had anticipated as he sped through; dodging transformers left, right and centre. He weaved in and out of crowds, hoping it would buy him time to:
Cheetor spied the entrance to the orchard up ahead. And around it, the same scene that had played in front of the Senate Tower. Security droids everywhere and from the opening, he could see clouds of dense, acrid smoke rise into the sky. What the hell was going on?!
* * *
The blast had come close, he could feel the heat against his cheek; and it threw his balance off. He fell to the floor, scrambling quickly to get to his feet; his wheels spinning against the ground. He could hear Ramjet approaching, the ex-Decepticon was heavy on his feet.
"Get up," he spat at Rattrap as he neared. "Get on your feet and face me." Rattrap laughed, "I'm trying." His wheels continued to spin until:
The light emanating from his transformation blinded Ramjet momentarily and he used this to his advantage. Grasping the weapon from Ramjet's hands, he transformed once more: stable on his feet now. . . . . .
And armed. He brought the weapon up against the Decepticon's chest. "Don't ever" he began, "touch my trees again." Ramjet's eyes opened wide in disbelief as he heard the rifle discharge.
* * *
Some of the droids had posed a problem for him and he now bore the signs of battle. His fur was charred in places; in others it was missing completely. He hurt. Never knowing pain like it, he continued to run down the tunnel; the thick smoke made it unbelievably hard to breath. But he ran onward until:
The rifle blast was loud, it hurt his aural sensors and Cheetor pushed harder now as the orchard came into view.
* * *
Ramjet lay motionless at Rattrap's feet, a smoking crater where his chest should be. Mech fluid ran from the wound, spilling out onto the dirt but Rattrap didn't seem to notice. He stared at the Decepticon for what seemed like an eternity before he raised the rifle again. And again, he fired. Ramjet's arm separated from its mounting, the laser blast cutting through the wing protruding from his back. The blast threw up dirt as again, Rattrap fired.
And again.
And again.
And:
"Rattrap!" The voice echoed and Rattrap turned to the source. Cheetor had transformed and now stumbled into the orchard, he was obviously in a weakened state. "Spots?" Rattrap quizzed, "What the hell happened to you?" He moved away from, what remained of, Ramjet. He dropped the rifle. Cheetor approached slowly, his eyes on the burning crops. The smoke was easing and the damage was becoming clear:
Nothing had survived, he could see that now. The thought saddened him. All their work, all of Botannica's work. It lay in smouldering piles of ash. "How did this happen?" he asked. Rattrap neared him and took his arm, allowing Cheetor to rest upon him. "I thought you could've told me." he replied.