Author's Note: Ok, I know I said I might not update for a while, but I ended up sleeping in this morning and staying home another day. With all this free time on my hands I decided to get this chapter up before some of my reviewers spontaneously combust. But first I have to unload some off-topic weirdness:

Ultra Rodimus's Guaranteed Paranoia-Causer:

1) Rent a horror movie (suggested watching: The Ring, The Grudge, Nightmare on Elm Street, Fear Dot Com, Darkness, etc)

2) Find an old house (you know, the ones that make all kinds of interesting noises once all the lights go out)

3) Wait until the middle of the night, when all sane people are asleep

4) Watch the movie

5) Try to sleep

There, now that that's out of the way, on to the story!

Disclaimer: If you don't know it by now, then you have a short in your memory circuits.

Metal and Neon

Chapter 10: Aftermath

The fires were nearly out when two Tahoes and a Taurus arrived at the scene of the battle. The CSIs and Detective Brass piled out of the vehicles and just stared.

The pavement was rent and torn. Chunks that had been ripped out were everywhere, even inside buildings. Long gouges, claw marks, dug several inches into the roads and ran for several feet. In other places entire footprints had been stamped into the roads. Impact craters from flying laser blasts created holes several feet deep and even more across. In at least one place the road had actually been torn to ribbons of stone and looked like it had gone through a wood chipper.

"Steel claws vs pavement," a stunned Warrick commented.

Sara shook herself. "Looks like the steel won."

The trees that hadn't caught fire had been splintered by some immense force slamming into them. One trunk actually bore the clear imprint of a beak and birdlike head. The trees that had caught fire had been quickly extinguished to keep the fire from spreading. For the same reason, all of the burning cars and dumpsters had been hauled out onto what was left of the street to be dealt with or left to burn out if they were too badly burned to save. The intact portions of street were filled with lines of charred and smoking vehicles needing some time in a repair shop and burned-out husks awaiting transport to the nearest junkyard.

"This must have been one hell of a fight," Brass noted, eyeing the lines of cars and garbage cans.

"I thought Ultra Rodimus knew better," Sara grumped.

"It wasn't Roddy," Bumblebee corrected as the small Autobot picked his way over to them. "He wasn't using any of his energy weapons. Rampage did this."

"Rampage?"

"One of the Predacons, a tiger. And a berserker when the mood strikes him. His tiger mode has shoulder-mounted laser guns. He cut loose with them and did all of this. That's why he was the first Predacon to be thrashed. Most of these claw marks and footprints are Ultra Rodimus's, though; out of all six combatants he was the only one big enough and heavy enough to do this kind of damage."

Nick turned from the vehicles to look up and down the rest of the street. A sigh escaped him.

Inferno had arrived in enough time to save most of the houses, but two or three had been completely gutted by the fire. Four Autobots were busy dismantling one of the gutted buildings, chasing down the hidden hot spots Inferno was finding. The building would have had to be destroyed anyway, but the Autobots were getting it done much faster and at no cost.

Grissom clapped Nick on the shoulder and looked back at Bumblebee. "It looks like you have things under control here. Nick and I are going to go see how Ultra Rodimus is."

Bumblebee nodded and made his way back to the other Autobots. Nick and Grissom climbed into their Tahoe and pulled away, heading out into the desert to where the Autobots had set up their base.

There wasn't much external activity around the Autobot ships. Most of the Autobots themselves were elsewhere, leaving the wounded with the shuttles.

Once the Decepticons had realized that they were being beaten badly, Galvatron had called for a retreat. The Autobots had driven them back to their ships, kept them there until all of the stragglers had been collected, and then chased them right off the planet. All of the flying Autobots had taken up pursuit, and many others had donned jet packs to join in. Most of the Autobot army had harried the Decepticons into space and back through the dimensional breach. Once through, the 'Cons had run with their proverbial (and in a few cases literal) tails between their legs. A few Autobots, including the Aerialbots, had remained near the breach to make sure that the 'Cons didn't try anything sneaky.

Most of the Autobots had suffered relatively minor wounds, mostly blast damage. Some bore injuries from close combat and edged weapons. A few had been wounded severely, and they were the ones in the makeshift repair bay, where Medic Alert and Perceptor were busy repairing them. First Aid, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"In there." Medic Alert raised one hand from Broadside's exposed innards long enough to point toward another door before returning to his task of repairing the badly-wounded triple changer.

"Thanks," Grissom told him, and Medic Alert gave an absent grunt in reply. Nick tugged on Grissom's arm. Both headed toward the indicated door, dodging the legs of various Autobots as they walked. The door slid open as they approached.

The other room was smaller than the main area, and most of it was occupied by a very large metal dinosaur. Several large packing crates had been pushed together to form a makeshift med table. Ultra Rodimus lay on top of the crates, hind legs bent, short arms stretched out, chin on the metal, shut down in repair mode. First Aid was hard at work.

Nick let out a low whistle as he regarded the marks left by claws and horns on the Autobot leader's metal hide. "I'd heard that he went five-on-one against animal Transformers, but now I believe it."

"How is he?" Grissom asked.

Magnus looked down at them. "Looks worse than it is, except for his eye. It's just fortunate that the eyes of his alternate modes are standard Transformer optics instead of eyes like those of his robot mode. These optics can be repaired, replaced, and rebuilt. But his robot mode's eyes, those are a whole different story. Not even First Aid could repair one of those; they're too complex even for him."

"But these he can fix?"

"Yeah."

"Is that what he's doing?" Nick asked.

"No. The original optic was completely destroyed. First Aid is rebuilding it from scratch, with some help from Spike."

"Spike?" Grissom frowned.

The big red and blue Autobot second-in-command nodded. "He and his father were the first humans to encounter us. Both were used to working with complex machinery; they worked on oil rigs for a living. Sparkplug's repair skills eventually gave Ratchet's a run for their money, and Spike is just as good. Since Spike, unlike First Aid, can fit into small spaces, he's doing the rebuilding of the eye socket itself and most of the small machinery so that First Aid can install the new optic. First Aid is building a new optic right now."

Nick looked up at the comatose Prime. "Can I see?"

Magnus reached down to pick the two humans up. From their higher vantage point they could see the eye socket, the armor around it removed so that repairs could be done, and the human climbing in and out of the open socket. Spike wore a special suit to protect himself from sharp metal and a special type of gas mask over his face.

"Why does he have to wear a mask?" Nick asked curiously.

"Fumes. Our blood, as you've noticed, smell a lot like gasoline, but the fumes are far more toxic. If he breathes in too much of the fumes, the toxins could eat his lungs from the inside out. And if he gets any of the blood in his eyes, it would blind him. So he has to be careful."

"At least, he does when he's working on Ultra Rodimus," First Aid chimed in, looking up from his work. "Our blood isn't nearly as toxic as his."

"Why not? Weren't you all built in relatively the same way?"

"Most of us were, but not him. Ultra Rodimus was not built by mortal, or even living, hands. Several years ago, he was Rodimus Prime. He was fatally wounded in battle, and he did die. But not completely. Our god, Primus, and the souls of our fallen comrades rebuilt him as who he is now. We had no part in his rebirth. I can safely say that no living Transformer could have designed and built such a complex creature. His systems are far more sophisticated than ours, and his blood has a completely different composition because of that."

"Not to mention a few things that have been added over the years," Magnus snorted. "He's got some of Falcon's fluids in him, plus the naquedah that was added a few months ago."

Grissom thought that over, then decided that the discussion was becoming too technical for him. "What will you do about the damage caused by your fighting?" he asked.

"We've already begun cleaning up," Magnus pointed out. "We don't have the materials to actually rebuild any of the houses, but over the years we've gathered enough human currency to pay for the materials and construction crews."

Nick blinked in surprise. "How did you guys manage to get human money?"

Magnus chuckled. "We have agreements with quite a few companies across Earth. We either sell them our technology, or they hybrid ours with theirs, sell it, and give us a share of the profits."

"Oh."

Something crackled, and a rather loud swear word drew Nick's attention back to Spike. The other human was shaking one hand, glaring at a clump of circuits.

"I think that's our cue to leave," he commented.

"But we'll be back to talk to Prime once he's been repaired," Grissom added.

"Fair enough." Magnus put them down. "I'll let you know when he's ready to talk with you."

"All right. We'll see you then."

To be continued...

And that is another one down. Yes, I know, this is a common title for after-the-battle chapters, but my imagination is running low on chapter titles that don't sound too silly. Just bear with me here. And I hope this chapter answers your question, New Dye!

Gromia: Thanks for the compliment, and yes it can. Argh, don't you just hate getting those now-you-have-it-now-you-don't ideas? That happens to me sometimes, and it never fails to drive me up the wall.

Fenestrae: No, I didn't blind him, but I couldn't let him emerge from that battle without a scratch. That would've made him into a Mary Sue, and that he most definitely isn't. The optic systems of his alternate modes have nothing to do with the optic systems of his robot mode and vice versa. And besides, it was just the optic, which can be removed for repairs and replaced when damaged beyond repair. And yes, the new dog is cute. He's got a dark muzzle, dark ears, and a dark stripe on his tail, four white feet, and a white tail tip. He's a dark blond that looks red when you look at him some ways.

Send me more juicy reviews and we'll see who fast I can update again!