"It's done," Kendrix said aloud, trying his best to sound businesslike.
The black-robed woman standing across the platform from him didn't even turn her head as she replied.
"So I heard," the woman answered, her voice quiet and slightly rasping. "You entered the Chamber of Night and stopped the ritual that was draining the Traveler's light. You are very lucky to have survived."
"Guardians make our own luck, I'm told," Kendrix countered. "Besides, you're the one who sent me down there."
The head turned, and the three green stars burned into him once again.
"I did not yet grasp the magnitude of what you faced when I gave you the task, the strength of the ritual," the woman hissed. "When I realized what forces were truly at work, I informed the Speaker immediately. I assumed that once you heard his message, you would be wise enough to retreat, to allow a more experienced Guardian to enter the Temple, or at the very least to wait for reinforcements. I did not expect you would be foolish enough to enter alone."
"The Traveler was in danger!" Kendrix weakly protested. "And I need that sensor calibration from you. You don't understand-"
Ken- Proxima started to say, warningly, but it was too late.
Kendrix watched as Eris Morn stiffened, felt as her threefold gaze cut into him, mind, body, and soul. When she spoke, her voice was eerily calm.
"It is you who does not understand, Guardian. What you risked. You do not know what the Hive-" her voice quivered for a moment, but Eris steadied herself, taking on an almost educational tone. "When you go into combat against the Hive, it is not just your life that you put at risk. Had you fallen in the Temple, the Hive within would have devoured your Light. With fresh strength like that, it would have made it all the more difficult for the next Guardian to arrive to stop the ritual. Maybe even impossible. If you had lost, if you had failed, it might well have meant the end of the Traveler, and by extension, of all human life on Earth."
Kendrix froze. He hadn't even thought of the situation in that light.
"And now you ask me to provide you with the means of finding more Hive. Of foolishly delving into more nests, offering yourself up to their hunger."
"We had a deal-" Kendrix began, tone sharpening, but Eris parried his protest with practiced ease.
"If you think that I would value my word over the safety of this City and the welfare of its inhabitants, then you are an even greater fool than I envision." Eris turned back to the view from the platform, evidently concluding their conversation. Kendrix stood there, fists clenched and thoughts racing as he tried to come up with something, anything, to make the woman before him reconsider.
"I didn't enter the Temple alone," he finally said, his voice soft and reluctant. A single green eye appeared over Eris' shoulder.
"Your report says otherwise," she replied flatly.
Ken, what are you-
"I know," Kendrix said, ignoring Proxima's anxious mental prodding. "You're right. I nearly died in the Chamber. But someone was there, someone who helped me. I can't say any more without putting them in jeopardy, but… I didn't do it alone. I'm not doing anything alone, not anymore. And I'm definitely not going after any more Hive unless it's absolutely necessary. The Thrall alone are going to give me nightmares."
The eye stared at him for a moment, then disappeared back behind Eris' shoulder. Kendrix sighed, and made to leave.
Then, an indicator flashed on his HUD, informing him that a new set of Ghost protocols had just been downloaded.
"Do not misuse my work, Guardian," Eris warned. "If you do, I will know."
Kendrix wasn't sure he believed that, but he had no interest in finding out for sure.
"Thank you. I won't."
"And a word of advice," Eris added, seemingly ignoring his gratitude. "In a land ruled by Light, secrets never remain hidden for long. Do not make me regret trusting you, Guardian."
Too on edge to reply properly, Kendrix just nodded at Eris' back and briskly walked off of the platform.
I can't believe that worked! Proxima bellowed inside his skull, anger and hysteric awe fighting for supremacy in her tone. She must really be crazy if she accepted that lame excuse for an explanation!
I'm not so sure, Kendrix replied, frowning under his helmet. She seems… sane. Saner than most, even.
Whatever you say. I guess we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Yeah. How's the calibration look?
No viruses or malware, and the logic of it looks sound, if a bit unorthodox.
You think she'd try to sabotage us?!
No, but it pays to be careful. We're not sure who we can trust right now.
Fair enough, I guess.
Speaking of people we're not sure we can trust… I just received an encoded transmission from Rasputin.
"Nova, we've got something," Kendrix said aloud into their comms, just as he stepped back out onto the main platform of the Tower. An excited beep was the robot's reply. "Proxima?"
"It's a set of coordinates," the Ghost explained. "It's south. Way south, almost at the pole. Central Antarctica."
"Anything else? A message?"
"Nope. Guess he's still grumpy about you blackmailing him."
"And here I thought he'd warm up a little after we gave him the keys to the system…" Kendrix muttered wistfully.
"So what's the play? We've got the invitation to Venus from moon lady, and now coordinates from the tyrant. Where are we headed first?"
Kendrix furrowed his brow in thought. The stranger's transmission on the moon had warned of enemies beyond belief. Worse than the Hive, and maybe worse than the samurai, if she knew about him. But she was a stranger, and a vague one at that. He had no reason to believe her, even if his gut said she was trustworthy. Besides, Rasputin struck him as an impatient person… AI… thing, and he doubted the Warmind would take long to get suspicious and lock them out if they delayed.
"We can't afford to get distracted by some wild goose chase on Venus," Kendrix decided aloud, "Not when we're so close to learning the truth about Nova and the samurai. We should fly south, as soon as Nova is-"
A roar of engines split the air as a red, black, and white jumpship tore out of the hangar and pulled a tight curve, swinging wildly into a hovering position in front of the central platform. A maelstrom of impatient blips and whirrs pounded across the comms, nearly deafening Kendrix.
"Alright, alright!" he cried, wincing and laughing.
Kendrix had barely rematerialized in the cockpit when Nova's thrusters exploded, rocketing them towards the horizon.
"Now remember-" Kendrix began as they swept down towards the rapidly growing white line on the horizon. "-we can't risk you transforming until we've swept the area and made sure Rasputin isn't spying on us. If he finds out about you, we're screwed, especially now that he has access to whatever weapons systems are hooked into the array."
"Even if he doesn't have an on-site presence, there are Warsats in orbit whose cameras can get resolution down to the foot, maybe more." Proxima continued. "Meaning we need to get inside the ship before you even think about showing yourself. So no blowing your top with excitement like the Tombship incident, ok?"
Nova beeped a strong affirmative, his display flashing to indicate that he was entering whatever constituted stealth mode for the bright red jumpship.
"Alright," Proxima said, bobbing with approval at Kendrix's shoulder. "We'll be coming up on the coordinates in about thirty seconds, so prepare to land."
Kendrix looked through the cockpit's viewframe at the icy expanse they were now flying over. The land around them was flat, cold, and almost entirely white, blindingly reflecting the morning sun into his eyes regardless of where he looked.
"This place is harsh," Kendrix muttered, changing his visor's settings to filter out most of the bright light.
"We're just lucky there isn't a storm here right now," Proxima muttered. "Actually, I bet Rasputin planned that. He doesn't want anything obscuring his visibility while he watches us."
"Smart. Creepy, but smart. Speaking of, you spotting any installations?"
"Nope. Landscape looks clear. Remember, we're pretty sure the ship crashed after the collapse, when Rasputin was already trapped in the Cosmodrome, so he wouldn't have had any way of setting up operations until less then a day ago, when we activated the array. Anything he could've added in that time wouldn't have given him any more capability than the warsats already do."
"Strange he didn't wait longer to tell us," Kendrix noted. "Give himself time to set up a proper monitoring station."
"Maybe he's afraid that if he waits too long, we'll shut the array off."
"Hmph. Maybe."
They reached the coordinates, and Nova took them down to a patch on the surface that looked just as barren and iced-over as everywhere else, per Proxima's instructions. She transmitted herself and Kendrix onto the ground, and the Guardian shivered through his insulated robes. This place was even colder than the Cosmodrome.
"See anything?" he called across the comms, resisting the urge to shout over the howling of the wind and roaring of Nova's thrusters as the Cybertronian hovered above them.
"No, not- wait, there!" Proxima answered, emitting a flash of light as she scanned the landscape around them. "A big metal superstructure, about a dozen meters down in the ice."
"How are we supposed to get down there?" Kendrix asked. "It's not like I can Blink Nova inside. I don't even know if I can go that far on my own." Proxima flew around the area, scanning various points in the ice as she did, before she answered by dropping a pack of some sort into Kendrix's hands.
"Place these charges where I tell you. If we space them correctly, it should blow us a path right into this big opening I'm detecting. I think it's some kind of hangar."
"You always come prepared," Kendrix mused. He walked to the points marked on his HUD, pulling explosive-topped stakes out of the pack and planting them firmly in the ice as he went. The whole process took about two minutes, at which point he was transmitted back into the cockpit, Nova flew back to a safe distance.
Then, Proxima's eye flashed red, and the charges exploded. A plume of Solar energy and vaporized ice erupted into the sky, sweeping up clouds of powdered snow. When visibility returned, there was a gaping hole in the ice, opening up into a tunnel that led into the mouth of an ancient, metallic structure.
"Here we go," Kendrix muttered.
Nova swept down into the darkness.
It was freezing within the walls of the ship. And dark. So dark. Proxima's shell glowed brightly, shining out into the yawning void, but her efforts did little to illuminate their surroundings.
Nova shivered, both from the cold and from the unease gripping his stomach. It was unpleasant, having his body perform a distinctly human response.
He had taken robot form as soon as they were fully within the hangar, after receiving confirmation from Proxima that they were shielded from the Warmind's prying eyes. Nova hadn't met the mechanical god-system, and he had no interest in changing that fact. Humans and their culture were alien enough, no need to add an incomprehensibly vast intelligence into the mix.
In sharp contrast, the ship around him… it didn't feel familiar, but it felt right. The railings around the hangar's handful of landing pads were the perfect height. The walkways between them were large enough for him to walk comfortably. When they first came upon a doorway, he was able to walk through it without needing to duck for a single second.
For the first time in living memory, he was standing somewhere made for him, for people like him. It wasn't home, of that much he was certain. But it was something.
"I'm not detecting any substantial heat signatures, organic or mechanical," Proxima noted aloud, taking Nova out of his contemplation. "There's a bit of background heat loss, so there might be a few functional systems that are currently dormant, but everything else seems… quiet."
Kendrix looked up at him, and Nova could feel the worry emanating from behind the Guardian's metal mask. Determined not to lose hope, Nova strode further in.
G-O- -D-E-E-P-E-R-.
"Yeah," Kendrix replied, valiantly trying to keep his worry out of his voice, and failing miserably. "Let's see if we can find some sort of centralized data storage. There a nav computer or something nearby?"
"I'm seeing some sort of cabling in the walls, maybe power supply? We could follow them, see if there's a central power source. That'd probably have a direct connection to the main system, in case wireless communication failed."
Y-E-S-. Nova asserted, not breaking his stride once. Kendrix and Proxima looked at each other. The Warlock shrugged, and the Ghost flew ahead to light Nova's way.
They reached the reactor in mere moments. Evidently the ship was more compact than it had initially seemed.
"I think I've got a scan of the whole ship now," Proxima commented, eye flashing briefly as she entered the larger room from the corridor leading back to the hangar. "All things considered, it's not very large. Relative to Nova, it's only about five times larger than a jumpship would be relative to a human. Spacious enough for a handful of crew, certainly, but there's no way this is a colony ship."
"Well, that makes sense," Kendrix said as he stepped in after her, glancing around at the high-ceilinged metal box with a ridged pillar in the center. "We probably would've noticed the ship a lot sooner if there were a bunch of giant robots building a home base around it. But hey, at least it means less ground to cover!"
Nova didn't fail to notice that Kendrix avoided adding how it also meant there was a lower chance of them finding any answers.
"All of the cabling is wired into this structure," Proxima said as she floated down to a terminal attached to the large central pillar, drawing Nova away from his negative thoughts. "There's a console here, but it seems inactive. I'm picking up a very faint Glimmer signature inside the structure; I think it's a reactor of some kind." The console in question was large and tall, its interface being roughly as high as Nova's waist.
E-N-E-R-G-O-N-. he mused aloud, eyes roving over the console and reactor. After a moment, he spotted a large, square-shaped receptacle at about shoulder height directly above the console. Nova shifted his torso slightly, opening up a small compartment from which he ejected a sizeable cube of Glimmer into his hand. He reached out and pushed the cube inside the receptacle, where it disintegrated into pure light before winking out. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the terminal's screens flickered to life, and a synthetic voice called out in Nova's native tongue.
"Emergency power restored. Reactivating essential systems."
A series of dim, red lights flickered on across the room, lining the various walkways at regular intervals. Seemingly unimpressed, Proxima continued to shine her own light to maintain visibility.
"So your ship is fueled by Glimmer too," Kendrix said thoughtfully. "Weird."
"How is that weird?" Proxima asked, sounding almost offended. "Glimmer is one of the most energy-dense substances in the universe, and is riciusouly efficient as a power source. Why wouldn't they use it?"
"That's not what I- look, Nova basically eats Glimmer, right? So this is like if I found out my Sparrow ran on nutrient bars," Kendrix argued defensively. Proxima shook herself with exasperation.
"You're ridiculous," the Ghost sighed.
"Then again," Kendrix continued, muttering to himself as if he hadn't heard her, "...the ship is also made of metal and electric components, just like Nova… so maybe it's more like finding out my Sparrow was made of human flesh…"
Proxima just rolled her eye and went back to examining the terminal.
"There's a lot here, but it's all diagnostics and what not on the reactor. Looks like it's been out of juice for a long time… wait, I found some schematics for the ship's power grid." Proxima's shell flexed and spun as she went rifling through the ancient files. "Looks like there's a 'ship computer' hooked up to it at the helm. That sounds more promising. Come on, it's this way."
Proxima zipped off towards another corridor off to their left, and Nova instantly moved to follow. His heavy footfalls recaptured Kendrix's attention, and after a moment of confusion the Guardian scrambled to do the same.
They reached the relatively small room that functioned as the ship's bridge after a few seconds. The room consisted of a large bank of terminals and screens arrayed in a semicircle, with three giant chairs evenly spaced inside it. Nova moved to the leftmost chair and sat down.
He fit perfectly.
"I've found the central databank!" Proxima announced triumphantly. Then, with a sheepish tone, said "...buuuuut it's locked behind a firewall. I should be able to crack it, but it'll take me a while. I'm not familiar with Cybertronian encryption, like, at all."
Nova stood and marched over to where Proxima was beaming away at part of the console directly in front of the middle chair. There was a small panel flashing orange with alien runes, which Nova realized he could read. It was a request for authorization.
After a moment of thought, Nova reached out and placed his hand on the panel. It flashed green, and then winked out. A second later, and a hologram projector turned on, throwing up a miniaturized image of a Cybertronian, who bore a striking resemblance to Nova himself. He knew the bot, Nova quickly realized.
It was the one from his vision.
::Authorization accepted. Accessing ship data…
::Designation: "Orion Hope"
::Class: Scout Frigate
::Model: Vosian Stargrazer
::Affiliation: Autobot Resistance
::Access captain's log?
::Confirmed. Retrieving holographic transcript…
::Entry 1:
This is first lieutenant Sunstreaker, reporting in to Autobot High Command. The launch was a success, and all systems are go. We have detected multiple Decepticon fighters converging on our location and are performing evasive maneuvers. I am requesting permission to initiate an emergency warp sequence.
Confirmed. Warping in 3… 2… 1…
::Entry 2:
We made it. The first jump took us all the way out to the edge of the system, and no Decepticons followed us. It seems we were able to warp away before they got a lock on our trajectory. I've performed another series of jumps along the surface of the heliosphere. It's a drain on fuel, but the interference from the heliopause should be enough to disperse our warp tail and disguise our passage. It's a risk, but we can't afford letting the Decepticons track us. This mission is too important.
I'm preparing another warp sequence. I will record another update soon.
::Entry 3:
We are now officially beyond the range of Cybertron's communications array. It doesn't really matter, as we've been on radio silence since the first warp, and most of the array is under Decepticon control anyway, but… something about help being well and truly out of reach is… disconcerting.
There's no turning back now.
::Entry 4:
It occurs to me that, for the sake of posterity, I should include the events that necessitated this mission in the first place. And seeing as I have nothing else to do while I wait for the warp drive to recharge, now seems as good a time as any.
It began six months ago, when Optimus Prime, Commander in Chief of the Autobot Resistance, informed the rest of High Command that he had received a vision. The vision, rumored to have been imparted by the Matrix itself, was a distress call, received from an unknown entity on the far side of the galaxy.
Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded insane, or like some cheap ploy for religious authority. But Optimus had never used his status as a Prime to sway people's faith. Some people follow him just because he was chosen by the Matrix, of course, but he's always discouraged that sort of blind obedience. So when he claimed that he'd received a vision from the Matrix, High Command knew to take him seriously.
Unfortunately, we didn't have the means to investigate the vision's source at the time. The only warp-capable ship under Autobot control was the Ark. Even if we'd had the energon to fuel an entire voyage across the galaxy, the Ark needed to remain on Cybertron in case a planetary evacuation became necessary.
So the vision remained a secret. There hadn't been any communication from the Matrix, or any other supposedly holy sources, in eons, unless Optimus' ascension counted, but Optimus didn't want to give people false hope by revealing his vision to the public. High Command agreed, not wanting to distract soldiers from the war effort.
Then, about a month back, some Autobot scouts were searching an abandoned quadrant on Cybertron, trying to find abandoned energon caches. Instead, they found this ship. An old model from Vos, used by Energon Seekers before the days of the war. It was mostly stripped for parts, but the warp drive and propulsion systems were intact. Additionally, its small frame meant that it would require a relatively small amount of energon to function.
For the first time in a long time, there was hope again.
Repairing the ship wasn't easy. First, Optimus had to get authorization from the rest of High Command. Apparently it was a very heated discussion. Ultimately, they decided that having the ship as a fully functional asset was worth the resources regardless, and that they would decide what to do with it later.
Things proceeded as quickly and covertly as possible from there. People began being surreptitiously removed from service to work on the project. Mechanics, technicians, navigators, etc, all brought together to rebuild and reformat the ship. When it came to crew, High Command wanted bots who were used to operating in hostile territory with no resources and no backup, so us scouts were natural picks.
I got my invitation about two weeks before construction was finished. They didn't tell me much at first, in case I backed out, but I never hesitated. We reported for training as soon as we could make it in from our various bases. They were drawing scouts from all across Cybertron, from every front of the war. There were about a dozen of us in the beginning, but since the ship was only designed for four crew, that number had to shrink.
Smokescreen was the first to go. He was good, that much was certain, but not as good as he thought he was. Ego might be a good tool for nettling the occasional Decepticon bruiser, but with other scouts to compete with, he didn't stand a chance. Once Smokescreen got sent out of the program, the rest of us did our best to shape up, and it took a while for the next elimination to go through.
I was kind of surprised Wasp lasted as long as he did, honestly. The guy had a temper, and didn't play nice with others. He kept a lid on it as best he could during training, but one day a choice remark slipped out at our sergeant, and he was out of the running.
People started dropping left and right after that. I'm not sure if it was command tightening their standards, trying to rush through training, or both, but things got much harder. Hotrod was a damn good fighter, but he was too arrogant and overbearing to be team leader like he wanted. Perceptor, on the other hand, was a tech wiz, certainly a better engineer than me, but his combat skills just weren't up to scratch.
Bumblebee was the worst loss. The kid had talent, he was a real protege. He was a softy too, always checking up on people and giving everyone a fair shot. I can see why Optimus liked him. Unfortunately, he was still really young, even for a scout, and no amount of talent can make up for a lack of experience. Command said he didn't have enough auxiliary skills for the mission, and he was cut.
Eventually, command worked us down to the final team, ready for the next stage of training. There was Getaway, a total narcissist who somehow had enough charm to keep the rest of us from ripping him apart on any given day. Command selected him for his "diplomatic skills." We had a good laugh about that one. Next was Prowl, a two-wheeler. Oldest scout in the program, maybe in the service. His skill with energy weapons is good enough, but his hand-to-hand combat prowess can't be beat, making him perfect for a low-resource mission. He was going to be our weapons officer.
Then there was Redshift. Our pilot. She was the only Seeker in the program, and the only one I've had the pleasure of meeting who wears an Autobot symbol. She'd been training to be an Energon Seeker when the war broke out, and was thus more familiar with spaceflight and the ship's tech than anyone else. That alone would've been enough to qualify her, but she was smart, resourceful, and could hold her own in a fight. She was the best of us.
Which made it all the more confusing when I was selected as team leader. My best guess is that command decided on the other three first, then added me because I worked the best with all of them. I'm the only recruit Getaway ever listened to, and I beat Prowl in the strategy and recon sims enough times that I think he respects me. And Redshift and I always got along perfectly. If she was jealous that I got the spot over her, she never showed it.
With the final team settled on, we were ready to move on to intensive training; familiarizing ourselves with the ship and each other. Learning to work as a unit. Things were looking up.
And then the Decepticons attacked the compound. Maybe they'd finally gotten word about the project, or maybe they'd always known and had just chosen that day for the assault. Either way, troop carriers were spotted on the horizon as the sun rose, moving fast. The whole base went on red alert and reinforcements were ordered to our location. Artillery slowed the transports down somewhat, buying us a little time, but it wasn't enough to mount a full scale defense effort. Our own transports arrived right as the enemy's did, and chaos reigned supreme.
That was when I received a ping on the highest-clearance frequency I'd ever seen. It was Optimus. He told me about the vision, about the true purpose of our mission. He also told me that Decepticon warships were en route, and that they were going to bomb the compound, including the Orion, and that our fighters wouldn't reach orbit soon enough to stop them. He said I had less than five minutes to gather my team and launch the ship, otherwise we'd never escape in time.
I pinged everyone instantly, but things weren't looking good. Prowl was stuck behind enemy lines, trying to assassinate Decepticon commanders. Redshift was caught in a dogfight with "some friends from school." Getaway wouldn't even reply. He was either dead or going rogue, and I'm still not sure which I'd rather believe.
None of them were going to make it to the ship. I was the only one who could do it, the only one who could save our one chance at restoring hope. But I'd never pull it off alone, I knew that. So I had to find the one other scout I knew, the person who'd told me he'd hopped on the first transport as soon as he'd heard my base was in danger, the person I trusted more than anyone else in the world.
I had to find my brother, Sideswipe.
AN: This took way longer than it should have, but it's done. I really enjoyed writing the last part, as it was so nice to sink my teeth full-stop into the Transformers side of things for once. Hopefully it wasn't too jarring of a perspective shift!
Also, fun little Destiny factoid I learned while researching this chapter: apparently, Antarctica is considered a "myth" by the people of the City, Guardians included. Given this is a civilization with jumpships that can reach the South Pole in a matter of minutes to check for a giant landmass, it seems that the continent no longer exists, and was *somehow* lost in the Collapse. However, this is only mentioned in like one place that I can find, so I feel pretty comfortable altering it without worrying about potential domino effects in other parts of the lore (inb4 Witch Queen introduces a mission where we find a giant icy landmass floating in the Ascendant Plane and need to anchor it back to the material realm).