Author's Note: I apologize for the delay, but the plot bunny decided to take a walk and didn't come back. I sent Steeljaw after it, and he finally brought back a slightly chewed plot bunny. Now that I am (somewhat) over my writer's block, I can continue typing this story. Please don't bite my head off for taking so long.
Disclaimer: The character of Ultra Rodimus is my own creation, no one else's. The character of Shadow, who will be appearing either in this chapter or the next one, belongs to Shadow Dragon Goddess04, a fellow fanfic author who asked me if I could insert her character. Shadow is used with her permission.
Boiling Point
Chapter 3: More delays
Three days had passed since the Autobots had found the almost lifeless planet. They were heading deeper into the hazard zone, and the free-floating radiation was beginning to mess with their sensors. Communications were frequently plagued by static and occasionally lost altogether. Perceptor was doing what he could to minimize the radiation interference, but enough of it still got through to give the communications operators the Transformer equivalent of headaches.
"Argh!" Blaster leaned his elbows on the edge of his console, head in his hands.
"Again?" Ultra Rodimus asked, looking up from his own console.
"The static interference is getting worse," was the reply. "It makes my head hurt and my audio receivers are starting to fritz. I don't know how much more of this I can take."
The Autobot commander looked in Perceptor's direction. The scientist answered his unspoken question with a shrug, indicating that there was little he could do about it. Ultra Rodimus shot Blaster a sympathetic look. Blaster groaned and reluctantly resumed monitoring the comm frequencies.
Something on another console began to beep, followed a second later by a swear word from the engineering station. Turning in his chair, Ultra Rodimus looked over at Chromedome, who served as the engineer on board the shuttle. The technician was swearing under his breath as he began running diagnostics.
"Problem?" the young Prime asked.
"Other than the fact that this ship is a piece of scrap?" the frustrated Autobot shot back.
Ultra Rodimus let the comment slide, deciding not to reprimand Chromedome. He rose from his chair and walked over to look at Chromedome's monitors. The other bot glanced at him briefly.
"This engine hasn't had proper maintenance since you became Prime," was the disgusted growl. "She's crashing. Unless we get it fixed we'll end up dead in the water, so to speak."
"Do we have the parts to fix the engines?"
"Yes, we have them in the storage bays, but we need to land in order to begin the repairs. This can't be done in space."
Heaving a sigh, Ultra Rodimus turned toward the navigation console. "Heave."
"Yeah, boss?" A red-armored head popped up from the lower level of the command deck.
"Use those fancy sensors of yours and see if you can find a place where we can land for repairs."
"You got it, big guy." Heave dropped back out of sight as he got to work. Ultra Rodimus turned back to Chromedome.
"How long do we have before the engines fail completely?"
"A couple of hours, maybe more, maybe less."
"Got a planet on sensors!" Heave called out. "Only spacial body in the area that we can reach before the engines go pfft. It won't be a pleasant stop, though. Looks like the entire surface is covered in ice, so the temperatures are going to be quite low. Looks to me like there can be some pretty wild weather, too." He looked back at his commander. "What do you wanna do? Head for it, or see if we can find someplace else?"
"Our engines won't last long enough to find another landing site," Chromedome cut in.
Ultra Rodimus made a face. He hated the cold. But he knew they didn't have a choice. "Set course toward the planet. We need to get these repairs done or we won't be going anywhere. Blaster, let the other ships know what's going on. Have them follow us."
"Will do." Blaster began searching for an open frequency.
A dot appeared in the center of the forward viewscreen. Ultra Rodimus dropped into his chair and watched at the dot grew larger and larger, resolving itself into a white and pale blue disk. Even from a distance it looked frigid. Stretching his legs out in front of him, the young Autobot leader glowered at the image.
The pilot picked out a spot that looked most promising as a landing site and guided the ship toward it. The lights were beginning to flicker as they hit atmosphere, and some consoles went dark. Chromedome fought to keep the engines on-line as long as possible, barely succeeding. As soon as the ship was down, landing gear sinking slightly into the snow, the engines sputtered and died, and all of the other systems shut down. The command deck was plunged into darkness. After a few moments of heated swearing, bots fished out handlights and activated them, beams of white light spearing through the blackness.
"Okay, we're down. Now let's get this pile of nuts and bolts fixed so we can get out of here."
Someone manually opened the airlock. A blast of frigid air burst in, bringing a load of snow in with it, coating the floor in cold whiteness. Carrying loads of replacement parts and tools, the Autobots headed outside to begin the repair work. Ultra Rodimus followed, blinking to adjust his eyes to the glare of the distant sun on the snow.
It was colder than he'd thought it would be. His armor was resistant to the cold, but only to a degree. Its outer surface would cool enough for the temperature drop to register with his sensor net, enough to be uncomfortable but not nearly enough to be dangerous. He could withstand the extreme cold of space for months at a time, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The planet's surface was the coldest he'd ever encountered inside a planet's atmosphere, and the wind made it worse. His long braid whipped out behind him as the wind caught it. Narrowing his eyes against the flying snow, he walked over to where a metal-alloy "tarp" had been set up to keep the wind and snow out of the engines during the repair, hearing a faint roar over the wind as the other two shuttles set down.
"What's going on?" Magnus asked as he joined his commander.
"Engines went. Apparently they haven't been serviced in the last year or so, and they picked now to burn out on us. We had to land for repairs."
"Contact!" someone yelled out from the other side of the ship. Ultra Rodimus and Magnus hurried over to see what was going on.
Apparently the planet was inhabited. A tribe of natives had seen the ships descending through the atmosphere and had come to investigate. The natives were surprisingly similar to humans in general build, but were larger, standing about 25-30 feet tall, their skin almost white, with six fingers on each hand and a pair of horns like those of an antelope rising from their heads. Their large eyes were a pale yellow in color, the pupils horizontal slits. All of them wore shaggy furs, and they stared at the Autobots curiously.
Perceptor looked up as the Autobot leader and second-in-command joined him. Optics bright, the scientist turned to Ultra Rodimus. "They are an interesting race. I assume them to be nomadic, hunting animals for meat and hides. Their language is similar enough to others we've encountered to begin a translation."
One of the natives stepped forward, looking up at the tall robot and speaking in a strange, guttural language. Ultra Rodimus looked at Perceptor.
"He asks where we come from, and why we are here," Perceptor translated.
"Tell him we're from somewhere beyond the stars, and that we'll only be here long enough to get our ship fixed," Ultra Rodimus growled.
The scientist translated. The apparent leader of the tribe looked at Ultra Rodimus for a moment, noting his body language, then said something else.
"He wishes to know why you're in such a bad mood," Perceptor interpreted, then paused as the native added something else. "He asks if it is his fault."
"He doesn't like the cold," Magnus jumped in. "The weather is making him snappish; it isn't anybody's fault. Except, maybe, the bot who forgot to check this ship's engines."
"I'd hate to be that bot when we get home," someone muttered from behind, the wind carrying the words to their ears. Magnus snorted his agreement.
The native listened to the translation, thought for a moment, then turned and spoke to his tribe. After some shuffling they brought forward a thick white pelt, the furry hide of a massive beast. Magnus nodded and took it, wrapping it around Ultra Rodimus's shoulders. The younger bot held it close, using one fold as a hood to keep the snow out of his face. With the fur keeping the wind at bay and trapping his own body heat, he was much more comfortable and his temper eased considerably.
Seeing that, the native felt it was safe to ask another question. Perceptor listened, then translated.
"He asks how long we will be here."
"I'm not sure." Ultra Rodimus activated his internal comlink. "Chromedome, how long should the repairs take?"
"The system crash was more severe than I'd thought. We're going to have to do a pretty substantial overhaul in order to get this rig flying again."
"Can you give me an estimate?"
"Two days, maybe three."
Ultra Rodimus relayed that answer. The native leader considered that. He held a quick discussion with the other members of his tribe. The Autobots waited patiently for the discussion to finish. When the natives apparently reached a decision, the leader turned back to the tall robots and fired off a sentence in his strange language.
"He says that during our stay we shall be guests of his tribe," Perceptor relayed. "Their camp is nearby, only a few minutes' walk from here."
"Since that ship is going to be very cold until the engines are repaired, I think we should accept the invitation," Jazz commented, joining them.
"What are we going to do about energy? I don't think we can spare any energon for this stay, and you know how much Prime consumes."
"Brainstorm thinks he can rig a machine to use the wind to produce energy, like a human wind turbine. He's already working on building the thing. If he manages it, it should produce enough energon to last us for the duration of our stay, even taking into account Ultra Rodimus's high energy consumption."
"That sounds workable."
The native leader led them to where his tribe was camped. The camp itself was a group of tents made from animal skins, looking like a strange cross between an Inuit igloo and a circular tent from Mongolia. Snow was packed around the sides, providing extra insulation from the frigid wind. There were about 50 tents, indicating that it was a fair-sized tribe.
"This goes against all our rules of first contact," someone muttered.
Ultra Rodimus glanced back at the speaker. "I don't think so. It seems to me that these people have had at least some contact with offworlders before now."
"What makes you think that?"
"They're not afraid of us. Which is very different from how a people meeting a group of aliens for the first time should react. They should have been scared witless and running in the other direction. But they approached us. Taking into consideration the fact that most of us look quite dangerous, that is a very unusual reaction for a first contact situation. Which leads me to believe that other offworlders have been here before, often enough for the natives to become somewhat used to alien visitors."
The rest of the group thought that over. They couldn't fault his reasoning. Perceptor asked the tribe leader about it, then relayed the answer.
"He says that offworlders have been coming here to hunt for many generations. The animals of this planet, adapted to the frigid temperatures, yield pelts of great warmth, beauty, and softness. Every year there are several hunting parties arriving, and they use the native peoples as guides. At first they thought us another group of hunters, then they noticed that we are very unlike any of the hunters who have ever come here."
"We're not hunters. What use do we have for fur? Our world has no seasons. We don't even have a sun, and we can regulate our body temperatures to work in any climate."
Inside the largest tent, six Autobots settled around the fire, surveying the tent interior curiously. Pelts were provided for them to sit on. Ultra Rodimus admired the thick furs, noting the variety of colors they came in. Not just the white and grey he'd expected, but also in pale blue, brown, gold, silver, even a fine shade of pale purple. Nor were they one solid color. With a few exceptions, the pelts sported spots and stripes either in different shades of the base color or in a different color entirely.
One of the other natives present, a female, made a comment.
"She says that you find the furs fascinating, for someone who isn't a hunter."
"I find the colors interesting. I've never seen any animal with purple fur on any of the worlds I've been on."
"I have, but only in a very dark plum color," Kup put in.
A smaller native, a youngster, asked a timid question.
"He asks if the stories he's heard of creatures with dark and/or bright colors are true."
Ultra Rodimus grinned and pulled something from subspace.
It was a ten-legged insect about three human feet long and a foot and a half wide, its jointed legs and underbody all made of metal alloys. Its wing cases were of a crystalline material, almost translucent, a vivid peacock blue in color. Its faceted eyes were the typical ruby red of much of Cybertron's wildlife, the exception being the turbofoxes. The insect sported a set of razor-sharp mouthparts, which it used for breaking scraps of nutrient-rich metal into digestable morsels. All in all, it looked like an emerald beetle from Earth. It was a cyber-beetle, also called a jewel beetle because of its crystalline shell. They were Cybertron's equivalent of scavenger beetles, devouring what the cyber-wolves, turbofoxes, turbo-rats, cyber-crocs, rare mech birds, and other creatures missed. The beautiful shells, which came in every color imaginable (surprising some people to no end; they wondered how such a brightly colored creature, which produced light as a by-product during digestion and could glow pretty brightly, could be such an expert at hiding), were often used as jewelry, by Cybertronians and by alien races large enough to wear a three-foot-long beetle as a pin.
The beetle, its shell glittering in the firelight, crawled over Ultra Rodimus's hands, its legs producing a faint tick-tick-tick sound as tiny feet hit his armor. Every native in the tent crowded forward to get a better look at it, making amazed comments about its bright color.
"Where did that come from?" Magnus asked.
"I found it scurrying toward the energon stores the other day. Picked it up to keep it from getting into mischief." Ultra Rodimus watched the creature climb over his fingers and onto the back of his hand.
One native asked what the beetle ate.
"They feed on metal scraps and the same kind of energy we do, usually in its liquid form. After a battle hundreds of them can be found on the battleground, cleaning up what the bigger predators don't get." Ultra Rodimus returned the beetle to his subspace pocket.
Two days later, the repairs to the shuttle were almost finished. The six Autobots were preparing to leave the tribe's camp and return to their ship when a deep growl sent the natives into a panicked frenzy. Obeying an inner instinct, Ultra Rodimus began scanning for danger with his minor empathic abilities. His senses brushed across an animal mind, one intent on the kill.
The beast let out a roar and suddenly lunged.
No one saw it coming. The white beast erupted out of the snow, teeth bared, red eyes startlingly bright against its white fur. Before anyone could react it had a native in its jaws, two sets of teeth tearing him to pieces. Greenish blood sprayed across the snow.
Ultra Rodimus snapped out of his shock and pounced, coming up behind the creature and grabbing one of its two necks. Once he had a good hold on the thrashing beast, he twisted and yanked. Vertebrae cracked and popped audibly as its neck broke.
The creature went wild under him, the force of its convulsing shaking him loose and sending him head-over-tail into the snow. Its deep growl had become a screaming roar, making his ears ache from the volume and pitch. Seeking its tormentor, it turned and went after him, bloodstained jaws agape, one of its two heads dangling lifelessly. Mad with pain, it attacked in a blind rush. The Autobot leader, pulling himself out of the snow, reacted on automatic, delivering a hard right cross to its jaw, stunning it. Before it could get its head cleared and resume its attack, Ultra Rodimus brought both fists crashing down on its skull. Bone shattered with a wet crack. Blood pouring from its nose and mouth, it collapsed and lay still.
Pulling himself upright, Ultra Rodimus stepped closer to get a better look at the beast.
Its body was long and powerful. The basic shape echoed the build of an Earth crocodile, but with six legs straight under its body instead of sprawling out sideways. The tail was almost the same, thick and heavy, but without the scaly armor. Its clawed feet were more like those of a polar bear, thickly furred for traction and to prevent heat loss. Both necks were fairly long, the heads shaped more like that of a salamander. Sharp, curved teeth lined its jaws. Each head had four eyes, two on each side. There were no visible ears. Its dirty-white fur was long and stringy, like an old string mop.
Wary natives began to come out of hiding, exclaiming in astonishment when they saw the creature laying lifeless in the snow. Excited chatter broke out as they told those who were still hiding what had happened.
"They call it an ice dragon, and it had been plaguing the tribe for years," Perceptor translated. "It was a master of ambush, so good at hiding that they were unable to locate it and kill it. Almost half of their number were killed by this creature."
"Then I guess I did them a service." Ultra Rodimus stepped away from the carcass. The natives ignored him, swarming around the limp mass of fur. He watched for a moment, then joined the others and headed back to the shuttle.
"We're just finishing up," Chromedome reported as they arrived. "Just a few more parts to install, then we'll be ready to test the engines."
"Good."
Tools and parts were being loaded onto the shuttle when the natives appeared, a large group of them. They headed right for where Ultra Rodimus was standing near the ship's engines, watching as the hull plates were sealed. He looked up as they approached. The group stopped a few feet away, removing the bundles they carried and placing them at the Autobot leader's feet. The startled Autobot looked at the tribe leader. The native began to speak.
"These gifts are their way of thanking you for killing the dragon," Perceptor translated. "By doing so you saved dozens of lives."
Ultra Rodimus nodded graciously. Other Autobots picked up the bundles and carried them aboard. The natives gave their traditional farewell and retreated. The Autobots boarded the ship and prepared for departure.
"Engines hot!" Chromedome called from his console. "Repairs are holding!"
The young Prime crossed the command deck and took his seat. "Let's go."
The engines' faint rumble became a roar. The ship shuddered, then lifted off. The pilot pointed the nose skyward, and they were off.
Tbc...
And there's another chapter down. Sorry that Shadow didn't make her appearance this chapter. She will be showing up in the next one. Sorry it took so long to get this written and posted, but I had a severe case of writer's block to get through. Blame the block, not the author.
If you're wondering (and I know you probably are), the events of this chapter are referred to in chapter 10 of "Unexpected Encounters". I needed a bit of material for this story and that was what bit me. Now send me reviews and I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner.