A bit of a longer update this time. So enjoy and as always, please review.
Thank you.
Chapter Twelve:
He couldn't move, let alone transform; he felt like such an invalid. But he was not the only one here in this dark place. His optics could make out another at the far side of this cell, bound by the same energy bonds as he. However, he couldn't fathom who it was. The bonds blocked his external sensors; he was in effect, paralysed. Silverbolt detested this state he found himself in. The first of the security droids he had encountered, had posed no problem. It was the other forty or so that followed that caused him grief. He was overcome, unable to fight against the sheer force of them. He certainly hadn't expected that. Silverbolt wondered whether Black Arachnia had suffered the same fate. Where was she? Had she made it out of the city? He had to know but in the state that he was, he was useless to her. Useless to himself even. All he could do now was wait and hope for Primus' sake that his love was safe from this persecution.
* * *
He could make out a vague shape at the other side of his cell; another ring of energy bonds. He was not alone in here but he may as well be. The bonds dulled his sensors, making their readings illegible. Nightscream wanted to shout across the room; he had to know who was there. Was it Rattrap? Had they gotten to him? He hadn't seen him in the orchard since Botannica's passing. Hadn't seen him in the fray that ensued. Maybe the security droids had found him first? Taken him by surprise? It wouldn't be unlikely; Rattrap's mind was elsewhere. The oncoming of the droids wouldn't have been expected. He certainly hadn't expected it. Although he felt numb, he could still feel his jaw; a dull ache throbbed through it where he had been forced to the floor. He could still taste the dirt floor. The taste of home didn't comfort him in the slightest.
* * *
The door slid open, flooding light into the cells. For the first time, the two Maximals caught sight of each other. But it didn't last long. The light from the door ceased; replaced by the silhouette of an approaching transformer. An intimidating bulk of a robot. Silverbolt didn't recognise him. Nightscream knew instantly who this was. He had known of him before the onset of Megatron. All transformers who came here knew him. The transformer that entered the room was known once as Blitzwing, an ancient Decepticon Triple-Changer. Though most knew him now simply as; The Executioner.
* * *
"It just doesn't make sense." Rattrap said as he tapped away at the keyboard. Cheetor sat in his beast mode, the extent of his damage now evident. Parts of his flesh were missing; replaced by the dull chrome of his cybertronian self. The majority of the flesh that remained was charred; burnt beyond repair. No CR chamber could help him and deep down, Cheetor knew this. His battle with the droids at the entrance had been much more severe than he had anticipated. Had the Senate improved on them? They moved faster, able to calculate moves; predict moves much quicker. And that scared him.
"Somebody wants us out of the way." Cheetor said, his voice was weak and strained. Rattrap looked back to him. Regardless of the words he had spoken to his friend, he was still that. It still pained Rattrap to see his friend in this state. But there was nothing he could do for him here. He had no medical equipment in this place. Hell, he barely had supplies for them both. He had never really planned to have used the bunker at all. He had never anticipated that the threat towards the orchard; to him, to Botannica, would ever surface.
"Yeah, but who?" Rattrap had heard rumours of a gathering; a society of sorts that had been opposed to the New Cybertron that they had awoken to. But the Senate had always promoted the view that the reformation was the best thing that could've happened. It breathed new life into the stagnant world and hum-drum lives they led. But he somehow had doubted Senator Sideswipe's words. In a senate made up of old timers, both Decepticon and Autobot, how much of what they said was truth?
"Bludgeon," Cheetor said softly, "It has to be Bludgeon. He was the only one vehemently against the reformat. There's nobody else." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes slightly. They felt heavy against his skull. "Found them?" Rattrap didn't turn away from his computer screen when he spoke, "It's not that easy. They could be in their beast modes, which means we've no chance of finding them. Or"
"Or what?"
"Or they're offline."
* * *
How the hell was he meant to do this? Why hadn't he devised a plan? He wasn't a warrior; he was never much of a soldier, so why was he doing this? He looked past the gates to the line of security droids positioned in front of the Detainment Centre. There was too many surely? He was only one transformer and there must be at least twenty of them. He breathed heavily as he began his way towards them.
The security droids all reacted at once. Twenty fusion rifles faced Waspinator as he approached. He guessed it was a natural reaction as he put his hands up. "Halt. Identify," they said in unison. It freaked him out but he was here now. He had no other choice.
"Waspinator. Liaison to Megatron."
The security droids remained motionless for a moment as:
"Permission granted. Security clearance Waspinator."
* * *
"Found something!" Rattrap exclaimed. Cheetor hardly had the energy to stand, let alone move but he did so anyway. He was sluggish in his movements as he neared Rattrap's console. "Suteneko Prime?" He asked. Rattrap shook his head. "Black Arachnia," he said. Cheetor eyes widened. "Where is she?"
"Entering the contaminated zone of Iacon."
* * *
The warning signs were dotted along the scene sporadically. They all read the same:
IACON IS OFF LIMITS. DANGER OF SHUTDOWN. CONTAMINATED AREA.
Black Arachnia stared at them. Dare she risk it? Dare she take the risk of permanent shutdown? She had come a long way to turn back and she had had no ill effects so far. She had had no internal stasis lock warnings. There didn't appear to be any signs of contamination; save for the foliage which grew here. Yet it looked healthy. The flowers were in full bloom beyond the signs. Why? Was the contamination a ruse? A simple ploy to keep transformers away? What was beyond there? She had to know. She had come too far. Something called for her. Something in the ruins of Iacon.
Black Arachnia moved past the signs and onward to the fields of the Iacon Hub.
* * *
There were five hundred cells in the Detaiment Centre and only two Maximals to find. The odds were stacked against Waspinator, he knew that; but he had to try didn't he? It just didn't seem right to let them die. He didn't consider them enemies anymore nor did he consider them friends. However, this was not what he had agreed to when he disclose their whereabouts. Their deaths would be on his conscious and he knew that he wouldn't be able to carry the guilt. He would do this for them and:
EXECUTION IN BAY SIX. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO BAY SIX.
Primus must be smiling down on Waspinator, he thought as he made his way to Bay Six.
* * *
"We can't go to Iacon! Are you crazy?!"
Cheetor transformed and stood. He was sturdier on his robot legs but for how long he didn't know. "She went there for a reason, we have to know." He moved towards the bunker's exit. "Are you coming?" he asked. Rattrap stared at him. "I have to. You wouldn't last out there."
* * *
Silverbolt was the first on the table. He struggled against Blitzwing's grip but it was useless. The Decepticon was stronger than he and he used that to his advantage. Blitzwing held Silverbolt in place as two service droids attached him to the table. His legs were bound; his arms soon followed. He was trussed up and unable to do anything about it. In a shadowy recess of Bay Six, he could see Nightscream; still bound by his energy bonds. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. Silverbolt knew how that felt. As he waited for the monster of a machine to do its job; his thoughts were of Black Arachnia. He hoped that she was nowhere near here. Hoped that her calling was a good one.
Blitzwing moved to the contraption ahead of the Maximal. The machinery was recognisable to him, yet it was different. Had it been modified? What Senate would allow this? It was a spark extractor that much was obvious. But it was the back end to the machine that bothered him. It was new. And he could only guess its purpose. It was a spark extinguisher. He would not become one with the Matrix. His existence in the fold would not be.
* * *
Waspinator ran through the corridors; in circles at some points he thought but he continued onward regardless. No security droid stopped him, though he had passed many. He was seemingly, recognisable in the system; able to go anywhere in the building. And then he saw it:
Bay Six. A red light blinked on and off outside and he hoped he was not too late.
* * *
"There's no way we can go across the surface," began Rattrap. "We're gonna have to go underground. Through the sewer system." Cheetor looked to him.
"Where will that take us?"
Upon the computer monitor, Rattrap brought up the sewer schematics. Lines and lines of pipes crossed each other; all different colours; all serving different purposes. Rattrap pointed with his animal hand. "There." He said. "Cybertropolis Falls."
* * *
The door opened without resistance and he moved into the room. Beams of light broke through the shadows of the bay; and in the centre, he could see Silverbolt. His body was slack and then he saw why:
Silverbolt's spark sat in the chamber of the extraction machine. Blitzwing prodded at buttons, fast and calculated. A voice emanated from the machine:
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.
"Come to admire your handy work?" A voice behind him said. It was weak, broken and barely a whisper. Waspinator turned to see Nightscream, the bonds that held him shone brightly.
"Be quiet," he said, "Waspinator here to help." He reached over to the main control panel of the bonds. He prodded at buttons. Nightscream looked at him, "Why are you doing this?" Waspinator didn't return the gaze. He simply said: "It's wrong." The bonds fizzled and crackled; the sound echoing around the chamber. He turned his gaze to Blitzwing but the machine seemed oblivious to his presence. Waspinator sighed. "Do you even know what you're doing?" Nightscream asked. Waspinator chuckled: "Not really." There was a loud crack and the bonds faded, the control panel fell to the floor.
Blitzwing turned, his attention focused on the recess. "What the. . .?" He moved away from the extraction machine and towards the recess. As he neared, he noticed the control panel on the grated floor. He smiled: "Come out, come out wherever you are." Is words echoed. And from the shadows emerged:
Nightscream opened his mouth, his top set of teeth disjointed and he fired them. They found their target; burying themselves into the Decepticon's shoulder. Blitzwing watched as the electrical charge shot towards him, down the line and:
Nothing. Nightscream stared open eyed as the Decepticon shook off the shock and grasped the line with his right hand. He pulled, jerking Nightscream out of the air. The Maximal fell to the floor with a crunch. Blitzwing bounded forward and through his legs, Nightscream could see Waspinator at the extraction machine.
Waspinator pressed every button he could see. He had never operated this machine nor had he any wish to. But his hands were tied on this matter. He sighed in relief as:
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS.
Blitzwing brought his foot down upon Nightscream. The Maximal raised his arms, poured all of his strength into keeping the Decepticon from crushing him. Blitzwing growled and pushed harder. Nightscream could hear his motors squeal under the pressure. He gritted his teeth.
"What happened?" Silverbolt uttered as he opened his eyes. Waspinator untied the bounding around his limbs. "Waspinator explain later" he said. "Right now Batbot need help" Silverbolt shifted his gaze from the Predacon to the scene in the recess.
Nightscream pushed as hard as he could; but he thought it was to no avail. The huge foot was mere inches from his face, he was certainly to be crushed. Nothing he could do would prevent it now, he just hoped that:
The pressure was relieved as the foot came up. Nightscream stared in disbelief as Blitzwing staggered backwards; his arms desperately trying to grasp at something behind. It looked comical to the Maximal as the Decepticon stopped. All movement ceased and the Triple-Changer fell. And as he did so, Nightscream saw his saviours.
Silverbolt stood, defiant; the spark extraction nodule in his hands. He held it like a weapon. In its chamber, Nightscream saw the Decepticon's spark. "Destroy it," he shouted. The Maximal stood and hobbled over to the others.
"My sentiments exactly." Silverbolt placed the extraction nodule back into the machine and pulled round the keyboard. He jabbed at buttons.
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.
Waspinator grabbed Silverbolt's hands. "No," he said, "Too much death already. No more." Silverbolt stared at him. For a moment the three of them stood in silence before:
He pushed the keyboard away from him. "Let's go." He said and solemnly, the three walked away from the extraction machine. And as they did:
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS.
Chapter Twelve:
He couldn't move, let alone transform; he felt like such an invalid. But he was not the only one here in this dark place. His optics could make out another at the far side of this cell, bound by the same energy bonds as he. However, he couldn't fathom who it was. The bonds blocked his external sensors; he was in effect, paralysed. Silverbolt detested this state he found himself in. The first of the security droids he had encountered, had posed no problem. It was the other forty or so that followed that caused him grief. He was overcome, unable to fight against the sheer force of them. He certainly hadn't expected that. Silverbolt wondered whether Black Arachnia had suffered the same fate. Where was she? Had she made it out of the city? He had to know but in the state that he was, he was useless to her. Useless to himself even. All he could do now was wait and hope for Primus' sake that his love was safe from this persecution.
* * *
He could make out a vague shape at the other side of his cell; another ring of energy bonds. He was not alone in here but he may as well be. The bonds dulled his sensors, making their readings illegible. Nightscream wanted to shout across the room; he had to know who was there. Was it Rattrap? Had they gotten to him? He hadn't seen him in the orchard since Botannica's passing. Hadn't seen him in the fray that ensued. Maybe the security droids had found him first? Taken him by surprise? It wouldn't be unlikely; Rattrap's mind was elsewhere. The oncoming of the droids wouldn't have been expected. He certainly hadn't expected it. Although he felt numb, he could still feel his jaw; a dull ache throbbed through it where he had been forced to the floor. He could still taste the dirt floor. The taste of home didn't comfort him in the slightest.
* * *
The door slid open, flooding light into the cells. For the first time, the two Maximals caught sight of each other. But it didn't last long. The light from the door ceased; replaced by the silhouette of an approaching transformer. An intimidating bulk of a robot. Silverbolt didn't recognise him. Nightscream knew instantly who this was. He had known of him before the onset of Megatron. All transformers who came here knew him. The transformer that entered the room was known once as Blitzwing, an ancient Decepticon Triple-Changer. Though most knew him now simply as; The Executioner.
* * *
"It just doesn't make sense." Rattrap said as he tapped away at the keyboard. Cheetor sat in his beast mode, the extent of his damage now evident. Parts of his flesh were missing; replaced by the dull chrome of his cybertronian self. The majority of the flesh that remained was charred; burnt beyond repair. No CR chamber could help him and deep down, Cheetor knew this. His battle with the droids at the entrance had been much more severe than he had anticipated. Had the Senate improved on them? They moved faster, able to calculate moves; predict moves much quicker. And that scared him.
"Somebody wants us out of the way." Cheetor said, his voice was weak and strained. Rattrap looked back to him. Regardless of the words he had spoken to his friend, he was still that. It still pained Rattrap to see his friend in this state. But there was nothing he could do for him here. He had no medical equipment in this place. Hell, he barely had supplies for them both. He had never really planned to have used the bunker at all. He had never anticipated that the threat towards the orchard; to him, to Botannica, would ever surface.
"Yeah, but who?" Rattrap had heard rumours of a gathering; a society of sorts that had been opposed to the New Cybertron that they had awoken to. But the Senate had always promoted the view that the reformation was the best thing that could've happened. It breathed new life into the stagnant world and hum-drum lives they led. But he somehow had doubted Senator Sideswipe's words. In a senate made up of old timers, both Decepticon and Autobot, how much of what they said was truth?
"Bludgeon," Cheetor said softly, "It has to be Bludgeon. He was the only one vehemently against the reformat. There's nobody else." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes slightly. They felt heavy against his skull. "Found them?" Rattrap didn't turn away from his computer screen when he spoke, "It's not that easy. They could be in their beast modes, which means we've no chance of finding them. Or"
"Or what?"
"Or they're offline."
* * *
How the hell was he meant to do this? Why hadn't he devised a plan? He wasn't a warrior; he was never much of a soldier, so why was he doing this? He looked past the gates to the line of security droids positioned in front of the Detainment Centre. There was too many surely? He was only one transformer and there must be at least twenty of them. He breathed heavily as he began his way towards them.
The security droids all reacted at once. Twenty fusion rifles faced Waspinator as he approached. He guessed it was a natural reaction as he put his hands up. "Halt. Identify," they said in unison. It freaked him out but he was here now. He had no other choice.
"Waspinator. Liaison to Megatron."
The security droids remained motionless for a moment as:
"Permission granted. Security clearance Waspinator."
* * *
"Found something!" Rattrap exclaimed. Cheetor hardly had the energy to stand, let alone move but he did so anyway. He was sluggish in his movements as he neared Rattrap's console. "Suteneko Prime?" He asked. Rattrap shook his head. "Black Arachnia," he said. Cheetor eyes widened. "Where is she?"
"Entering the contaminated zone of Iacon."
* * *
The warning signs were dotted along the scene sporadically. They all read the same:
IACON IS OFF LIMITS. DANGER OF SHUTDOWN. CONTAMINATED AREA.
Black Arachnia stared at them. Dare she risk it? Dare she take the risk of permanent shutdown? She had come a long way to turn back and she had had no ill effects so far. She had had no internal stasis lock warnings. There didn't appear to be any signs of contamination; save for the foliage which grew here. Yet it looked healthy. The flowers were in full bloom beyond the signs. Why? Was the contamination a ruse? A simple ploy to keep transformers away? What was beyond there? She had to know. She had come too far. Something called for her. Something in the ruins of Iacon.
Black Arachnia moved past the signs and onward to the fields of the Iacon Hub.
* * *
There were five hundred cells in the Detaiment Centre and only two Maximals to find. The odds were stacked against Waspinator, he knew that; but he had to try didn't he? It just didn't seem right to let them die. He didn't consider them enemies anymore nor did he consider them friends. However, this was not what he had agreed to when he disclose their whereabouts. Their deaths would be on his conscious and he knew that he wouldn't be able to carry the guilt. He would do this for them and:
EXECUTION IN BAY SIX. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO BAY SIX.
Primus must be smiling down on Waspinator, he thought as he made his way to Bay Six.
* * *
"We can't go to Iacon! Are you crazy?!"
Cheetor transformed and stood. He was sturdier on his robot legs but for how long he didn't know. "She went there for a reason, we have to know." He moved towards the bunker's exit. "Are you coming?" he asked. Rattrap stared at him. "I have to. You wouldn't last out there."
* * *
Silverbolt was the first on the table. He struggled against Blitzwing's grip but it was useless. The Decepticon was stronger than he and he used that to his advantage. Blitzwing held Silverbolt in place as two service droids attached him to the table. His legs were bound; his arms soon followed. He was trussed up and unable to do anything about it. In a shadowy recess of Bay Six, he could see Nightscream; still bound by his energy bonds. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. Silverbolt knew how that felt. As he waited for the monster of a machine to do its job; his thoughts were of Black Arachnia. He hoped that she was nowhere near here. Hoped that her calling was a good one.
Blitzwing moved to the contraption ahead of the Maximal. The machinery was recognisable to him, yet it was different. Had it been modified? What Senate would allow this? It was a spark extractor that much was obvious. But it was the back end to the machine that bothered him. It was new. And he could only guess its purpose. It was a spark extinguisher. He would not become one with the Matrix. His existence in the fold would not be.
* * *
Waspinator ran through the corridors; in circles at some points he thought but he continued onward regardless. No security droid stopped him, though he had passed many. He was seemingly, recognisable in the system; able to go anywhere in the building. And then he saw it:
Bay Six. A red light blinked on and off outside and he hoped he was not too late.
* * *
"There's no way we can go across the surface," began Rattrap. "We're gonna have to go underground. Through the sewer system." Cheetor looked to him.
"Where will that take us?"
Upon the computer monitor, Rattrap brought up the sewer schematics. Lines and lines of pipes crossed each other; all different colours; all serving different purposes. Rattrap pointed with his animal hand. "There." He said. "Cybertropolis Falls."
* * *
The door opened without resistance and he moved into the room. Beams of light broke through the shadows of the bay; and in the centre, he could see Silverbolt. His body was slack and then he saw why:
Silverbolt's spark sat in the chamber of the extraction machine. Blitzwing prodded at buttons, fast and calculated. A voice emanated from the machine:
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.
"Come to admire your handy work?" A voice behind him said. It was weak, broken and barely a whisper. Waspinator turned to see Nightscream, the bonds that held him shone brightly.
"Be quiet," he said, "Waspinator here to help." He reached over to the main control panel of the bonds. He prodded at buttons. Nightscream looked at him, "Why are you doing this?" Waspinator didn't return the gaze. He simply said: "It's wrong." The bonds fizzled and crackled; the sound echoing around the chamber. He turned his gaze to Blitzwing but the machine seemed oblivious to his presence. Waspinator sighed. "Do you even know what you're doing?" Nightscream asked. Waspinator chuckled: "Not really." There was a loud crack and the bonds faded, the control panel fell to the floor.
Blitzwing turned, his attention focused on the recess. "What the. . .?" He moved away from the extraction machine and towards the recess. As he neared, he noticed the control panel on the grated floor. He smiled: "Come out, come out wherever you are." Is words echoed. And from the shadows emerged:
Nightscream opened his mouth, his top set of teeth disjointed and he fired them. They found their target; burying themselves into the Decepticon's shoulder. Blitzwing watched as the electrical charge shot towards him, down the line and:
Nothing. Nightscream stared open eyed as the Decepticon shook off the shock and grasped the line with his right hand. He pulled, jerking Nightscream out of the air. The Maximal fell to the floor with a crunch. Blitzwing bounded forward and through his legs, Nightscream could see Waspinator at the extraction machine.
Waspinator pressed every button he could see. He had never operated this machine nor had he any wish to. But his hands were tied on this matter. He sighed in relief as:
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS.
Blitzwing brought his foot down upon Nightscream. The Maximal raised his arms, poured all of his strength into keeping the Decepticon from crushing him. Blitzwing growled and pushed harder. Nightscream could hear his motors squeal under the pressure. He gritted his teeth.
"What happened?" Silverbolt uttered as he opened his eyes. Waspinator untied the bounding around his limbs. "Waspinator explain later" he said. "Right now Batbot need help" Silverbolt shifted his gaze from the Predacon to the scene in the recess.
Nightscream pushed as hard as he could; but he thought it was to no avail. The huge foot was mere inches from his face, he was certainly to be crushed. Nothing he could do would prevent it now, he just hoped that:
The pressure was relieved as the foot came up. Nightscream stared in disbelief as Blitzwing staggered backwards; his arms desperately trying to grasp at something behind. It looked comical to the Maximal as the Decepticon stopped. All movement ceased and the Triple-Changer fell. And as he did so, Nightscream saw his saviours.
Silverbolt stood, defiant; the spark extraction nodule in his hands. He held it like a weapon. In its chamber, Nightscream saw the Decepticon's spark. "Destroy it," he shouted. The Maximal stood and hobbled over to the others.
"My sentiments exactly." Silverbolt placed the extraction nodule back into the machine and pulled round the keyboard. He jabbed at buttons.
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.
Waspinator grabbed Silverbolt's hands. "No," he said, "Too much death already. No more." Silverbolt stared at him. For a moment the three of them stood in silence before:
He pushed the keyboard away from him. "Let's go." He said and solemnly, the three walked away from the extraction machine. And as they did:
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS.