Chapter Fifteen:
The sun rose over the technorganic towers of the Hub known as Cybertropolis. Indications of the previous night dwindled; neon signs powered down, street lights blinked off. The sun bounced from building to building, hill to hill; its rays illuminating the world for the day ahead.
And as the dawn broke, the behemoth of a Predacon ship departed from the space dock.
* * *
The shuttle sat in silence, surrounded by the ruins of the once great city known as Iacon. The engines had died a while ago and the craft was seemingly abandoned. He watched it from afar, his aural sensors worked overtime; yet he could hear no sounds in the vicinity. His first urge was to investigate but he had learnt a long time ago to keep his distance; to observe before making a move. But this craft had sat here for at least an hour or two and he'd seen no sign of life. Could they be inside, waiting for him? He should notify Swoop that was certain but something kept him from doing so. His curiosity kept him there, by the side of the downed craft. It had been a long time since any transformer had ventured here; the sight of the shuttle unnerved him.
He decided to move closer, inching forward slowly; careful not to let his mass disturb the ground too much. He scanned the area, the readings telling him no more than he had already determined. Wait, he thought. That wasn't right. He detected movement. But where? He scanned left, right. He couldn't get a lock - the signal jammer they'd erected after the reformation had proved to be too effective. He was blind to the movement; knowing only that it was fast and incoming.
The blow to the back of his head, sent him spinning; tumbling to the ground. He swung his head round; his last chance of a visual conformation of:
The shape was black and indistinct. It had many arms, three heads and was looming over him. Slowly, one of the arms was raised high and with speed; brought down again and the ancient Dinobot known as Snarl went temporarily offline.
* * *
The place had fallen into chaos; they hadn't expected it to have happened so soon. They were nowhere near finished. Tests were yet to be run, strategies developed. It was too soon and in his weakened condition he knew he would feel helpless in the fight that was to come. He still had questions; still needed answers from Primal, from the Oracle itself. It all seemed to be happening too fast. Cheetor observed the chaos from the back room; which they had converted into a makeshift conference room. On one side of the small room sat Senator Sideswipe. He had been joined by Senator Warpath; or what had been reconstructed of him. His torso was almost intact, save for a few pieces of his chest panelling. Hi spark glowed brightly behind its protective mesh of panels. The senator had no legs and only one arm, yet he retained his attitude.
"There doesn't seem to be much that we can do to stop this," Warpath said, his voice crackled as he spoke. "Look at our troops, they are far from battle-ready. Send them now and we'll be sending them to be slaughtered."
Cheetor sighed, "No offence senator, but I don't expect to hear anything positive about this from you. You told me yourself, that you were opposed to the reformation; so until you add anything that will be helpful to us, I suggest you leave this to the rest of us." The room fell silent, as did the red Autobot. He glared at the young Maximal through damaged optics. Half of him was outraged; the other half was pleased by Cheetor's stance. If this resistance were to succeed, they were going to need the Maximal; whether he liked it or not.
"So, how many ships do we have?" Cheetor turned to Hammerstrike who sat in one of the chairs here. He stood, "Three." He said rather sheepishly, lowering his head. Cloudburst stood over Hammerstrike; his form imposing in the small room. "Three?!" He said; the annoyance in his voice evident. "How are we supposed to this with only three ships? We have close to a hundred drones out there. How are we going to transport them and us?" Hammerstrike looked to Cheetor, "They're cargo cruisers." He said. Cheetor sighed again and as he did so, he cringed. A wave of pain overcame him and he knew that this was it. This was going to be the last journey he took.
"They'll do," He said through clenched teeth, "Get them ready. We leave now."
* * *
Although his optics had not yet rebooted and he was in a world of darkness, he could hear; his aural receptors bringing him online quickly. Devoid of sight, he heard voices.
"We need to find her."
"Maybe he knows?"
"Wake him up."
Snarl had the odd sensation of movement; of being dragged along the ground. And slowly, his optics came online and he was proved right. He lay on his back, the sky high above him. And as soon as he had started moving; he stopped. For a second, his only view was of the sky; the buildings that rose high into it. It all seemed so peaceful, until:
Something leaned over him. A transformer but not one that he recognised. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. "Where's Black Arachnia?" The Transformer quizzed.
* * *
It had been easier than he had thought to round up the supporters of this action. He had expected to come up against some hesitation yet he found nothing but willingness abound. So here he now stood, upon the bridge of the SHOURISHA, the Senate's dirty little secret. Bludgeon had kept the project hidden from the Autobot members of the Maximal Senate since before the reformation. It had prophesised in the Covenant of Primus that the Chaos Bringer would one day return. A power that great cannot be dispatched of so easily and he knew that. This ship had been under construction for many years and it could have been lost due to Megatron's meddling. But that was forgivable now. The Dark Lord was back and nothing could stand in his way. This ship was Bludgeon's testament to that. It was as strong as the surface of Cybertron itself and armed to the teeth, he believed the expression went.
"How long?" The voice behind him asked. Bludgeon turned to see Megatron sat in the captain's chair. Bludgeon smiled, the skeletal features of his face distorting grotesquely as he did so, "We are within the border of the Hub." Megatron stood and moved towards the viewport at the front of the bridge. The city was indeed getting closer. And within, he could sense Unicron smile.
* * *
"I assure you, she is quite safe." The Dinobot said his voice calm; almost reassuring. He sat, his legs crossed against the hull of the craft. He stared at the maximal opposite, who he had been introduced to as Silverbolt. He was fiery, his temper seemingly clouding his actions. If he was involved with the spider then Snarl could appreciate the urgency for answers. Iacon certainly was not the place to wander alone in. "Untie me and I will take you to her." He glanced to the other two who stood at the edge of the buildings. They seemed wary of their surroundings, the one he knew as Waspinator especially. He was jittery, Snarl thought, he nervously shifted around; p[acing back and forth. The other one, Nightscream he believed, merely kept his eyes on the buildings. Did he sense something? Impossible with the signal jammers, but still. . .
"Does anybody else hear that?" Nightscream asked. Silverbolt stood, moved away from Snarl. A slight breeze had picked up and:
Something soared overhead. Something big and very, very loud. A ship. Silverbolt was obviously startled; adopting an attack pose that amused Snarl. "What the hell was that?!" He shouted; the other two equally as startled. Nightscream shrugged, a look of panic across his face. Snarl too, was curious. The activity around here recently caused him concern. Things were about to change, he knew that much. Amidst the chaos that had erupted by the arrival of the craft, Waspinator calmly approached Silverbolt.
"He is here," He said, "Megatron has arrived."
* * *
The drones moved simultaneously across the runway of the city space dock. It reminded Rattrap of the days before the reformation and how simple life really was. At least then, they knew the situation and could handle it accordingly. But now, they were flying blind and it concerned him. They had no strategy, no battle plans; it unnerved him but if this was the way this had unfolded, then so be it. Besides, he thought, he really missed kicking Predacon ass.
It was an eerie sight thought Cheetor as he watched row after row of cycle and tank drones enter the ships. Hammerstrike led one troop into the first ship. Cloudburst followed him in and the cargo bay doors closed behind them. The Maximal turned his gaze to the second ship, sat to his right. Identical rows of drones moved towards it, guided by Buzzsaw. He raised his arm, gave a slight wave. It went unnoticed.
"You all ready?" The voice behind him said. Cheetor sighed, "I don't think I'll ever be ready Rattrap. I never thought we'd be doing this again." He turned and began to make his way towards the third ship. He watched as Cosmos led the drones aboard. "I hear ya," Rattrap said, following.
They entered the craft; the cargo bay was full, lines of drones stood motionless, silent. Cheetor walked past them slowly, his eyes never leaving them. He moved onto the bridge. Rattrap swung round, his tail plugging itself into a socket by the bay doors. They began to close, throwing the cargo bay into darkness. Dozens of pairs of optics shined in the darkness that fell upon the drones. Rattrap shivered and moved off, "Creepy." He exclaimed and as he went, one of the drones watched.
* * *
The doors opened with a creak, their electrics had been disconnected a long time ago. Snarl grunted as he pushed it aside. Light flooded into the corridor beyond. "In here," He said and a moment later, he was joined by the three Transformers. They entered the building, the Dinobot closing the door behind them. The corridor fell into darkness.
Silverbolt felt the Dinobot push past him and could barely make out his shape as he walked ahead. "They won't find us here," Snarl said reassuringly, "The signal jammers are too strong within the city. Keep up, we're nearly there."
Nightscream felt a wave of relief overcome him as they left the darkness of the corridor and entered the hall that lay beyond.
It was grand, there was no mistaking that but there was something different about it. It seemed alive, not only through the machinery that worked here but there was something in the atmosphere of the place. He couldn't pinpoint his feelings but he felt no insecurities here; he had no worries, seemingly no concerns. And as he glanced over to Waspinator, he knew that he wasn't the only one experiencing this. "Where are we?" He asked aloud, not really directing the question to anybody in particular.
From within one of the recesses of the hall, Silverbolt sensed movement. He walked towards it at a rapid pace as from it, emerged:
"Welcome to the Heart of Cybertron," The Dinobot known as Swoop said raising his arms, "Primus welcomes you."
* * *
The ship, SHOURISHA, sat in the middle of what was once a vast space dock. It housed the Autobot Senate once too and had been the site at which the Autobots had sent the Ark. But now, it sat like the rest of the city, in pieces. A relic from a bygone age.
SHOURISHA had taken very little time to land and transform; the ship frame had all but disappeared, it was now a battle-ready base of operations. Gun turrets extended from the surface and if any comparison was to be made; the ship now resembled a hedgehog. But Bludgeon didn't care about the aesthetics of his creation. He stood by the buildings to the ship's side. He watched as the Chaos Bringer's army departed the craft. Megatron stood by his side.
"Your ship is impressive," Megatron said, his gaze wandering over the craft. Bludgeon snorted, "It is more than that, I assure you. Not even Primus can stop SHOURISHA. There are a few more surprises left in her." From his helmet snapped a communications mic; it crackled, the voice on the other end said, "Sir, we've three ships incoming. They have Maximal signatures." Bludgeon turned to Megatron and smiled. "Time for a test run, I believe." He continued into the mic; "Fire when ready."
* * *
Rattrap sat at the controls of the cargo ship, his tail plugged into the console. His fingers moved deftly over the keyboards; ahead of him sat two monitors, each with the other craft's image.
Cheetor sat in the captain's chair, his gaze fixed on the viewport and the city beyond. Something was wrong. He shifted in the seat though it caused him minor pain to do so and stood. "Rattrap?" He said, never taking his gaze from the viewport as the Maximal turned from his monitors. "What's that?" He pointed at the ball of light that headed their way. Rattrap's expression dropped and he reached for his seatbelt.
"You may want to hold onto something," He said as:
The energy blast had caught them along the side; ripping the armour away and the craft was thrown into chaos. The pressure dropped as the side began to fall away. Cheetor could feel the atmosphere pull at him and he wondered what had happened to the drones. He glanced to Rattrap, who wrestled with the controls; shifting his line of sight to Cosmos. The Autobot was desperately clinging to his console and he thought he could almost hear the trains of his motors above the din that enveloped them. He stood from his seat and on shaky legs; Cheetor began to make his way to the cargo bay. Cosmos watched as he went, shouting: "Where the hell is he going?!" Rattrap kept his concentration on the controls ahead of him, "I don't have time to worry about that! We're going down! Brace for impact!"
The cargo bay had been decimated, the remnants of the energy blast continued to eat away at the remaining armour. Cheetor couldn't believe that this was happening. They had come so close in such a short time that. . .
Most of the drones were intact; the energy blast had destroyed the first few in the rows. At least they still had their army. Through the hole that rapidly expanded in front of him, he could see the decayed buildings of Iacon. They had made it into the city but at what cost? Were they now to lose everything they had fought to keep? His mind raced, his body ached as he poured every last bit of energon into staying upright; he failed to see the cycle drone that approached behind until:
The drone grasped Cheetor and raised him high above its head. He was powerless to resist; the reserves of power he had were now depleted. The drone lifted him higher and approached the edge of the developing hole. Cheetor could see the ground so far below. He could feel the air whip around him; the din of the craft had died and he closed his eyes as he sensed the ground rushing to greet him.
The sun rose over the technorganic towers of the Hub known as Cybertropolis. Indications of the previous night dwindled; neon signs powered down, street lights blinked off. The sun bounced from building to building, hill to hill; its rays illuminating the world for the day ahead.
And as the dawn broke, the behemoth of a Predacon ship departed from the space dock.
* * *
The shuttle sat in silence, surrounded by the ruins of the once great city known as Iacon. The engines had died a while ago and the craft was seemingly abandoned. He watched it from afar, his aural sensors worked overtime; yet he could hear no sounds in the vicinity. His first urge was to investigate but he had learnt a long time ago to keep his distance; to observe before making a move. But this craft had sat here for at least an hour or two and he'd seen no sign of life. Could they be inside, waiting for him? He should notify Swoop that was certain but something kept him from doing so. His curiosity kept him there, by the side of the downed craft. It had been a long time since any transformer had ventured here; the sight of the shuttle unnerved him.
He decided to move closer, inching forward slowly; careful not to let his mass disturb the ground too much. He scanned the area, the readings telling him no more than he had already determined. Wait, he thought. That wasn't right. He detected movement. But where? He scanned left, right. He couldn't get a lock - the signal jammer they'd erected after the reformation had proved to be too effective. He was blind to the movement; knowing only that it was fast and incoming.
The blow to the back of his head, sent him spinning; tumbling to the ground. He swung his head round; his last chance of a visual conformation of:
The shape was black and indistinct. It had many arms, three heads and was looming over him. Slowly, one of the arms was raised high and with speed; brought down again and the ancient Dinobot known as Snarl went temporarily offline.
* * *
The place had fallen into chaos; they hadn't expected it to have happened so soon. They were nowhere near finished. Tests were yet to be run, strategies developed. It was too soon and in his weakened condition he knew he would feel helpless in the fight that was to come. He still had questions; still needed answers from Primal, from the Oracle itself. It all seemed to be happening too fast. Cheetor observed the chaos from the back room; which they had converted into a makeshift conference room. On one side of the small room sat Senator Sideswipe. He had been joined by Senator Warpath; or what had been reconstructed of him. His torso was almost intact, save for a few pieces of his chest panelling. Hi spark glowed brightly behind its protective mesh of panels. The senator had no legs and only one arm, yet he retained his attitude.
"There doesn't seem to be much that we can do to stop this," Warpath said, his voice crackled as he spoke. "Look at our troops, they are far from battle-ready. Send them now and we'll be sending them to be slaughtered."
Cheetor sighed, "No offence senator, but I don't expect to hear anything positive about this from you. You told me yourself, that you were opposed to the reformation; so until you add anything that will be helpful to us, I suggest you leave this to the rest of us." The room fell silent, as did the red Autobot. He glared at the young Maximal through damaged optics. Half of him was outraged; the other half was pleased by Cheetor's stance. If this resistance were to succeed, they were going to need the Maximal; whether he liked it or not.
"So, how many ships do we have?" Cheetor turned to Hammerstrike who sat in one of the chairs here. He stood, "Three." He said rather sheepishly, lowering his head. Cloudburst stood over Hammerstrike; his form imposing in the small room. "Three?!" He said; the annoyance in his voice evident. "How are we supposed to this with only three ships? We have close to a hundred drones out there. How are we going to transport them and us?" Hammerstrike looked to Cheetor, "They're cargo cruisers." He said. Cheetor sighed again and as he did so, he cringed. A wave of pain overcame him and he knew that this was it. This was going to be the last journey he took.
"They'll do," He said through clenched teeth, "Get them ready. We leave now."
* * *
Although his optics had not yet rebooted and he was in a world of darkness, he could hear; his aural receptors bringing him online quickly. Devoid of sight, he heard voices.
"We need to find her."
"Maybe he knows?"
"Wake him up."
Snarl had the odd sensation of movement; of being dragged along the ground. And slowly, his optics came online and he was proved right. He lay on his back, the sky high above him. And as soon as he had started moving; he stopped. For a second, his only view was of the sky; the buildings that rose high into it. It all seemed so peaceful, until:
Something leaned over him. A transformer but not one that he recognised. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. "Where's Black Arachnia?" The Transformer quizzed.
* * *
It had been easier than he had thought to round up the supporters of this action. He had expected to come up against some hesitation yet he found nothing but willingness abound. So here he now stood, upon the bridge of the SHOURISHA, the Senate's dirty little secret. Bludgeon had kept the project hidden from the Autobot members of the Maximal Senate since before the reformation. It had prophesised in the Covenant of Primus that the Chaos Bringer would one day return. A power that great cannot be dispatched of so easily and he knew that. This ship had been under construction for many years and it could have been lost due to Megatron's meddling. But that was forgivable now. The Dark Lord was back and nothing could stand in his way. This ship was Bludgeon's testament to that. It was as strong as the surface of Cybertron itself and armed to the teeth, he believed the expression went.
"How long?" The voice behind him asked. Bludgeon turned to see Megatron sat in the captain's chair. Bludgeon smiled, the skeletal features of his face distorting grotesquely as he did so, "We are within the border of the Hub." Megatron stood and moved towards the viewport at the front of the bridge. The city was indeed getting closer. And within, he could sense Unicron smile.
* * *
"I assure you, she is quite safe." The Dinobot said his voice calm; almost reassuring. He sat, his legs crossed against the hull of the craft. He stared at the maximal opposite, who he had been introduced to as Silverbolt. He was fiery, his temper seemingly clouding his actions. If he was involved with the spider then Snarl could appreciate the urgency for answers. Iacon certainly was not the place to wander alone in. "Untie me and I will take you to her." He glanced to the other two who stood at the edge of the buildings. They seemed wary of their surroundings, the one he knew as Waspinator especially. He was jittery, Snarl thought, he nervously shifted around; p[acing back and forth. The other one, Nightscream he believed, merely kept his eyes on the buildings. Did he sense something? Impossible with the signal jammers, but still. . .
"Does anybody else hear that?" Nightscream asked. Silverbolt stood, moved away from Snarl. A slight breeze had picked up and:
Something soared overhead. Something big and very, very loud. A ship. Silverbolt was obviously startled; adopting an attack pose that amused Snarl. "What the hell was that?!" He shouted; the other two equally as startled. Nightscream shrugged, a look of panic across his face. Snarl too, was curious. The activity around here recently caused him concern. Things were about to change, he knew that much. Amidst the chaos that had erupted by the arrival of the craft, Waspinator calmly approached Silverbolt.
"He is here," He said, "Megatron has arrived."
* * *
The drones moved simultaneously across the runway of the city space dock. It reminded Rattrap of the days before the reformation and how simple life really was. At least then, they knew the situation and could handle it accordingly. But now, they were flying blind and it concerned him. They had no strategy, no battle plans; it unnerved him but if this was the way this had unfolded, then so be it. Besides, he thought, he really missed kicking Predacon ass.
It was an eerie sight thought Cheetor as he watched row after row of cycle and tank drones enter the ships. Hammerstrike led one troop into the first ship. Cloudburst followed him in and the cargo bay doors closed behind them. The Maximal turned his gaze to the second ship, sat to his right. Identical rows of drones moved towards it, guided by Buzzsaw. He raised his arm, gave a slight wave. It went unnoticed.
"You all ready?" The voice behind him said. Cheetor sighed, "I don't think I'll ever be ready Rattrap. I never thought we'd be doing this again." He turned and began to make his way towards the third ship. He watched as Cosmos led the drones aboard. "I hear ya," Rattrap said, following.
They entered the craft; the cargo bay was full, lines of drones stood motionless, silent. Cheetor walked past them slowly, his eyes never leaving them. He moved onto the bridge. Rattrap swung round, his tail plugging itself into a socket by the bay doors. They began to close, throwing the cargo bay into darkness. Dozens of pairs of optics shined in the darkness that fell upon the drones. Rattrap shivered and moved off, "Creepy." He exclaimed and as he went, one of the drones watched.
* * *
The doors opened with a creak, their electrics had been disconnected a long time ago. Snarl grunted as he pushed it aside. Light flooded into the corridor beyond. "In here," He said and a moment later, he was joined by the three Transformers. They entered the building, the Dinobot closing the door behind them. The corridor fell into darkness.
Silverbolt felt the Dinobot push past him and could barely make out his shape as he walked ahead. "They won't find us here," Snarl said reassuringly, "The signal jammers are too strong within the city. Keep up, we're nearly there."
Nightscream felt a wave of relief overcome him as they left the darkness of the corridor and entered the hall that lay beyond.
It was grand, there was no mistaking that but there was something different about it. It seemed alive, not only through the machinery that worked here but there was something in the atmosphere of the place. He couldn't pinpoint his feelings but he felt no insecurities here; he had no worries, seemingly no concerns. And as he glanced over to Waspinator, he knew that he wasn't the only one experiencing this. "Where are we?" He asked aloud, not really directing the question to anybody in particular.
From within one of the recesses of the hall, Silverbolt sensed movement. He walked towards it at a rapid pace as from it, emerged:
"Welcome to the Heart of Cybertron," The Dinobot known as Swoop said raising his arms, "Primus welcomes you."
* * *
The ship, SHOURISHA, sat in the middle of what was once a vast space dock. It housed the Autobot Senate once too and had been the site at which the Autobots had sent the Ark. But now, it sat like the rest of the city, in pieces. A relic from a bygone age.
SHOURISHA had taken very little time to land and transform; the ship frame had all but disappeared, it was now a battle-ready base of operations. Gun turrets extended from the surface and if any comparison was to be made; the ship now resembled a hedgehog. But Bludgeon didn't care about the aesthetics of his creation. He stood by the buildings to the ship's side. He watched as the Chaos Bringer's army departed the craft. Megatron stood by his side.
"Your ship is impressive," Megatron said, his gaze wandering over the craft. Bludgeon snorted, "It is more than that, I assure you. Not even Primus can stop SHOURISHA. There are a few more surprises left in her." From his helmet snapped a communications mic; it crackled, the voice on the other end said, "Sir, we've three ships incoming. They have Maximal signatures." Bludgeon turned to Megatron and smiled. "Time for a test run, I believe." He continued into the mic; "Fire when ready."
* * *
Rattrap sat at the controls of the cargo ship, his tail plugged into the console. His fingers moved deftly over the keyboards; ahead of him sat two monitors, each with the other craft's image.
Cheetor sat in the captain's chair, his gaze fixed on the viewport and the city beyond. Something was wrong. He shifted in the seat though it caused him minor pain to do so and stood. "Rattrap?" He said, never taking his gaze from the viewport as the Maximal turned from his monitors. "What's that?" He pointed at the ball of light that headed their way. Rattrap's expression dropped and he reached for his seatbelt.
"You may want to hold onto something," He said as:
The energy blast had caught them along the side; ripping the armour away and the craft was thrown into chaos. The pressure dropped as the side began to fall away. Cheetor could feel the atmosphere pull at him and he wondered what had happened to the drones. He glanced to Rattrap, who wrestled with the controls; shifting his line of sight to Cosmos. The Autobot was desperately clinging to his console and he thought he could almost hear the trains of his motors above the din that enveloped them. He stood from his seat and on shaky legs; Cheetor began to make his way to the cargo bay. Cosmos watched as he went, shouting: "Where the hell is he going?!" Rattrap kept his concentration on the controls ahead of him, "I don't have time to worry about that! We're going down! Brace for impact!"
The cargo bay had been decimated, the remnants of the energy blast continued to eat away at the remaining armour. Cheetor couldn't believe that this was happening. They had come so close in such a short time that. . .
Most of the drones were intact; the energy blast had destroyed the first few in the rows. At least they still had their army. Through the hole that rapidly expanded in front of him, he could see the decayed buildings of Iacon. They had made it into the city but at what cost? Were they now to lose everything they had fought to keep? His mind raced, his body ached as he poured every last bit of energon into staying upright; he failed to see the cycle drone that approached behind until:
The drone grasped Cheetor and raised him high above its head. He was powerless to resist; the reserves of power he had were now depleted. The drone lifted him higher and approached the edge of the developing hole. Cheetor could see the ground so far below. He could feel the air whip around him; the din of the craft had died and he closed his eyes as he sensed the ground rushing to greet him.