Another scorching sun hung high in the clear sky over a baking desert. Below, the ringing of metal trilled through the air to the delight of human and Autobot onlookers.
Sparks flew as blades clashed over and over between Arcee and Mirage on the practice ground. She dove in, leading with her right forearm, aiming for his neck. He blocked with his own blade, taking a backhanded swing with his other at her right side. Her knee came up and knocked it away with little room to spare.
Staying in her comfort zone, Arcee danced within his striking distance to keep his momentum low. He kept up with her surprisingly well, but he made one swing a fraction too wide. Seizing the advantage, she chopped precisely in the elbow actuator of his arm. She swung again with the blade of her other arm, missing the jaw plate by a hair's breadth. Mirage, quicker than she was expecting, danced out of her reach and disappeared behind her.
Arcee dipped low and swept a foot out in a circle. No impact. She turned around, fists up, to see the practice field empty. Checking her six, he still was nowhere to be seen.
Standing stock still and tuning in to her audio receptors, she focused on the crisp squeeze of sand grains sliding underfoot several yards to her left.
Mirage caught the nearly imperceptible tilt of her head towards him. She knew now. Maintaining his cloaking, he fired his electro-disruptor in hopes of disabling her and ending the fight. The snapping balls of electricity flew by her, dissipating into the air beyond.
She had seen the point of generation for the shots, and now had a confident lock on her prey's location. Smirking, she engaged both of her arm cannons and fired a full barrage, forcing him to run.
Watching the sand, she saw the tracks as they appeared, allowing her to lead her target. The bursts seemed to detonate in the air as they found purchase on Mirage. His cloak dropped, but he was already charging her, weapons slicing through the charges he didn't dodge.
The spy soon found his blades locked in with the assassin's as they struggled for leverage. If he kicked out, she could take his balance away and he'd lose. If he tried to headbutt her, she could very well slip her blades below his and have his spark. She likely knew the same.
As they struggled against each other, a single gunshot rippled through the air. They shoved each other backwards to disengage and searched for the source of the noise.
Colonel Lennox was walking onto the field, a smoking handgun over his head. "Ladies and gentlemen, please clear the area. This is now an official military exercise." Mirage shrugged and walked off to the sidelines. Arcee followed, disappointed at the interruption.
Far behind the colonel, a sound like thunder cascaded from the ARC hangar, accompanied by the whip cracks of an enormous surge of electricity. A brief bloom of light blinded even the sunshine just before all went peaceful once again.
Slow heavy metal footfalls reported against unyielding concrete. The approach was hushed where the pad gave way to dirt and sand as the large mech took its first steps into the daylight.
Colonel Lennox waved the ARC-piloted fighter onto the field. Nearly the same size and stature as Bumblebee, the tan armor-clad mech walked steadily forward. The optics shone a thin ring of cyan around black glassy centers. The rest of the face was a blank slate of metal, lacking any moving parts or expression.
The pilots manned their stations, wired in to the brutish creation by immersive virtual reality headsets and hands on their controls. The sandy field lay before each of them, but individual HUDs presented different graphics and information vital to only them.
G.S. Freed, the man in charge of cannons and projectiles, had multi-sensory arrays for target acquisition, ammo stock, and environmental tracking for wind factors.
M.S. Montgomery, designated support analysis, oversaw the stats of her fellow pilots with a display for each person and their corresponding vital health systems. While they might not be in the machine, there was no telling how battle may fatigue or inflict damage though their connections.
S.F.C. Archer, in charge of area control, saw the topography of the land around them. Radar covered the sky and ground beneath them. His arsenal included sonic deterrents, smoke bombs, and SHREDs (short-range electrical detonations).
Specialist Blaese, the melee authority, had a sparse HUD, with only a handful of stats for the mech that would eventually show any physical damage to it.
Corporal Ahmad controlled logistics. She knew the limits of the machine from heat tolerance to internal power stores. She was only concerned with keeping the mech on its feet without running out of juice while the other system dynamics fed on it.
They had all been practising together for close to a year now, running tireless simulations, but today was the maiden voyage on the physical product.
Freed, their highest ranking officer, was charged with external interactions and, more generally, the team leader. When the mech finally stood before Colonel Lennox, Freed had main control of movement, saluting and speaking through it "Sir".
The human observers on the outskirts cheered at the incredible reveal. The Autobots seemed less enthused. Even Danielle could feel the immediate unsettled tension in Bumblebee from her perch on his shoulder.
Ironhide grumbled out "I don't like it. The faceless husk reminds me too much of that Decepticreep Soundwave."
Arcee nodded once in acknowledgement, commenting "It's like looking at a ghoul. It walks and talks, but there's no life in there."
Sandstorm was just as fired up as ever, nudging his shoulder into Bumblebee "How'd ya like to fight that? The humans might have built it, but I'd like to know how it feels to break it!" The yellow bot only reached up to steady Danielle and threw a look of disconcerted disgust at Sandstorm in silence; the sparkless walker also made him uneasy.
"You go do that, Sandy," said Mirage. "I'd like to see you get past those consequences unscathed."
Hoist sidled up to the group, having come from the ARC hangar. "Please, don't be a brute. It may be dead, but it is a masterpiece nonetheless."
The crowd hushed as Optimus boldly strode into the practice area, walking beyond the mech and turning to face it from behind Lennox. The mech craned its head up to take in the towering giant.
"Colonel, is your team prepared?"
Lennox rolled his head with a less than convinced smile. "Well, we're going to find out, aren't we?" With one last look at the pristine mech from up close, he jogged from the field to stand next to General Reims. She had not joined the mob of spectators but instead stood between the field and the hangar.
Freed questioned the Prime "Sir, do you have orders for us?"
"If I'm to entrust the safety of these people and my team to you," he said, motioning to the bystanders, "then I must know what you are capable of."
There was no chatter on the ARC coms until Optimus closed his face shield and balled his fists. Cole muttered into his headset "You got to be kidding..." as he raised the mech's own fists up in defense.
Freed took command "Alright, he's twice our size and can tear us in half. Keep at range. If he closes, take out the legs, no kill shots." He transformed the fists into cannons and pointed at Optimus. "Let's do this."
The mech fired on Optimus, energon bursts whizzing past his head and grazing his shoulder. Optimus defended with a raised arm as he charged the mech, a fist reared back to strike.
Off the field, Ironhide took one look at the mech's cannons and felt his circuits burn. "I never forget a gun! Those blasters belonged to Ratchet! Why are they on that zombie?" he yelled, ready to rip the arms right off the undead blasphemy.
The mech continued to fire while swiftly backing away from Optimus' swings. Unable to get a grip on the flighty mech, he pulled his own blaster out and began to shoot. Two rounds connected, one dissipating on the front plates and one on the right leg, triggering internal heat alarms.
Archer addressed Freed "Sir, he's less likely to shoot into a crowd. And there is a high point we can take to even the odds, marked in HUD."
Freed responded "Agreed. Moving to marker. Ahmad, alarm status."
She reported "No present concern, but too many of those blasts could immobilize us."
The mech circled around Optimus as he continued to lob rounds at it. He aimed his muzzle skyward when the mech turned it's back to the crowd of unprotected onlookers. Calmly, he put away his cannon and said "We did not share our technology so you could flee." An energon blade slid forward over his right hand as he patiently advanced on the mech. "Fight!"
Cannons still armed, Freed aimed for the chest. Optimus did not dodge but simply sliced through the munitions before they could reach him. A missile rocketed towards the Prime and burst into a thick cloud of white smoke several feet in front of him at optic height. Freed continued his attack, the bright projectiles disappearing into the cloud. One step more and the mech had reached the highpoint previously marked.
Suddenly, Optimus burst from the cloud at a full run, blade reflecting light into the optic sensors of the mech. The pilots groaned at the blinding visual assault, Ahmad attempted to clear the sensors through squinted eyes. Though fixed in less than a second, Optimus was already upon them, blade raised above his head and a warrior's cry resounding despite the trickle of energon from a nicked line somewhere in his chest.
"Cole!" ordered Freed, seamlessly relinquishing control to the combat specialist.
Optimus' arm slammed down, barely caught by the hands of the mech to stop the blade mere inches from their shoulder. Gears ground under the effort of holding back the blunt force that continued to rain down. The higher ground gave access to Optimus' torso and Blaese kicked into it, aiming for what he hoped was the wound, knocking him back.
"Let's dance." Cole taunted.
Planting his back foot, he pulled down the weapon hand while Optimus was still off balance. The mech drove a powerful punch into the same low center of Optimus, and followed with another. The next he tried to throw did not follow through as the Prime had seized the hand. He spun in a tight half circle, keeping his iron grip until the last second, throwing the small bot back towards the center of the practice field.
Landing in the middle of the range, a wave of sand sprayed in all directions, sensors flashed and alarms whined, warning of loss of balance and superficial damage to exterior mechanisms.
While their opponent stood on the other side of the field and the mech righted itself to a standing position, Archer spoke up "We lost highground and crowd protection. I advise we don't shoot at them either. Can use SHREDs after distance closure."
Ahmad interjected with "Five minutes of energy remaining at current consumption rate."
Pushing forward once again, Cole launched the mech towards Optimus. "Archer, on your mark. Then we finish this."
Optimus held his blade at the ready, knowing he took back the advantages they'd used against him to protect the crowd.
Suddenly, eight tiny bolts fired from the mech. He knocked away two of the strange slow bullets but the remainder embedded into the metal on his upper torso with blistering heat.
Arcs of electricity bounded across him, locking his body and preventing any sort of transformation. The tan bot shoulder-tackled him to the ground in an instant. The electricity dissipated as quickly as it had begun.
Optimus raised his blade once again and held it to the exposed side of the mech, scratching the innards beyond the armor under the arm that wielded a cannon pressed, smoldering, over his spark.
Several excruciating moments dragged on as the ARC team wondered with baited breath what this outcome meant. The soft sound of General Reims slowly clapping broke the tension. Prime retracted his face shield and the mech swiftly extricated itself, both warriors retracting their weapons and standing up.
Raising a hand in sharp salute one more time, Freed respectfully addressed Optimus "Sir." A nod from the titan released them from their salute and Ahmad activated the autopilot to return the mech to their hangar. A collective sigh escaped the pilots as they extricated themselves from their consoles.
From Archer's headset, already set on the desk, a ping sounded from the radar scan but he never heard it. Another sweep of the scanner and the blip was gone.
Soundwave approached Megatron with a display showing the location beacon for Laserbeak.
The menacing leader snarled with pleasure with a drawn out reply "Good."