Autoceptor took them on a winding, confusing path down back roads and through buildings. It was impossible to explain the new plan on the way, but Mirage assumed they'd eventually get somewhere private so he could pass on the message from Optimus.
After a little less than half a joor, Autoceptor led them into a small apartment building and keyed in the door code for one of the apartments.
He led the way, and Mirage and the other Autobot—who Mirage still hadn't been properly introduced to—followed him into a small, well-kept room. As far as apartments in Tarn went, this one wasn't so bad. The walls were painted a repellent dull green, but at least they weren't bare or rusty.
Mirage recognized the two enforcers sitting at a table off to the side of the room. Clampdown and Deep Cover looked up as the door closed.
"Hey," Deep Cover said, frowning at Mirage. "'Ceptor, you can't just bring mecha—"
"What happened?" Clampdown cut his brother off. "We heard about Kaltor. Do you know if he's all right, and where they took him?"
"Yeah," Autoceptor said. "Sort of."
Silence fell for a moment.
"The evacuation's over, isn't it?" Deep Cover asked dully. "Shouldn't you Autobots be back in Iacon?"
"Actually," Mirage said. "We're still going to help."
"How?" the skeptical enforcer crossed his arms. "They'll be looking for evacuation points. Besides, I'm pretty sure we got a comm. from your superiors saying the next bridges were going to be the last."
Mirage's superiors?
That was a new concept. Then again, he was essentially broke since he'd turned over everything he owned to Optimus. He supposed the commanders were his superiors…
Even so, he couldn't keep an offended tone from his voice as he explained. "We are simply switching tactics. Instead of sneaking a few mecha out at a time, we're going to have many more groundbridges, and we're going to open them all at once, using the Decepticon attack as a distraction. We'll give mecha the coordinates in two orns when Megatron's army shows up."
Deep Cover's scowl hinted that he didn't like that idea.
What a surprise.
Autoceptor didn't seem to like it either "That's your new plan?" he demanded.
"It's not as tidy as the old one," Mirage said. "But we're hoping to get a large number of mecha out, and in the panic, the prospective refugees are less likely to be noticed and arrested."
"I thought you only had one groundbridge." Deep Cover said.
"I don't know all the details," Mirage said. "I'm not exactly sure how it will work, but I'm certain the Prime has a plan."
"So…" Clampdown said. "How are they going to distribute the information?"
"They'll comm. you, and you can pass on the coordinates as you see fit," Mirage said.
"In the meantime," Autoceptor said. "We should try to get that mechling free."
"Do you know where he is?" Clampdown asked again.
"Yeah," Autoceptor said. "I guess they either didn't bother to turn his tracker off…"
"Or they're expecting you to show up an break him out," Deep Cover said. "It's too dangerous. We can't risk trying to rescue him."
"Eh," Autoceptor said. "They can expect me all the frag they want. See if I care."
Mirage met his optics, and made a rash decision. "I'll help if you need me to." He'd told Optimus he couldn't rescue Kaltor. But if Autoceptor had a plan… "I will warn you… I'm a little new to this sort of thing, so you'll have to give me specific instructions."
"I can help too," the other Autobot said.
"I don't think you understand," Mirage told him. "Unless you have some sort of stealth training…"
"Ha," Autoceptor said. "Hound, why don't you show his majesty what you can do?"
The Autobot—Hound, apparently—looked hesitant for a moment, then he shrugged.
The walls suddenly disappeared, leaving only the table and a small patch of the floor. Instead of the small apartment, they were now in the middle of what seemed to be the sea of rust. Red-gray hills towered in one direction, and flat nothingness stretched out as far as you could see in the other. The scene was complete with glowing orange sunset…
Except the sun wasn't quite bright enough…
This wasn't real.
"Primus beneath…" Clampdown said softly.
The scene faded back to counters, cupboards, and green-painted walls.
"Was that… a hologram?" Mirage asked.
"Yes," Hound said. "Sort of."
Mirage stared at him. Only nobility had that kind of mod.
"Convinced?" Autoceptor asked.
Mirage turned to answer the old enforcer's question, but realized Autoceptor was looking at Deep Cover, who heaved a sigh.
"All right," Deep Cover said. "What's your plan?"
It was too early to be online. Elita fought off the vague fuzziness in the back of her helm as she tried to simultaneously listen to the conversation around the meeting table and get in touch with the mecha in charge of the groundbridge stations in Central Iacon.
Neither of those things was working very well.
"Well, we still have some room in the apartments we're using for our soldiers," Chromia was saying. "But not enough for all of the refugees. Honestly, that should be the Council's problem, not ours."
"I'm so sorry," the femme on the comm. said, not sounding sorry at all. "But he's not available right now. I don't think he's even in his office."
"Well, when will he be?" Elita asked. "I need to speak with him."
"Again, I'm sorry. I don't know."
"You don't know? You're his secretary."
There was a pause, and Elita shuttered her optics. She had to try to keep her annoyance out of her simulated voice. She could be patient. If she had to, she'd wait until the on-cycle, and then go personally to the groundbridge stations and demand to speak with the mecha in charge.
The other femme cut the comm.
Elita's optics flew open.
"…can't explain our plans to the Council, can we?" Ironhide asked.
"I believe that, in this case, they will be willing to help us. But I want to have alternatives in place as well."
"Well, it all depends on how many mecha come through those bridges," Chromia said.
Elita commed the groundbridge station's customer service line again and waited. She'd made it almost all the way to the top. Had the mech in charge told his employees he didn't want to talk to her?
She wouldn't be surprised.
The only owner she'd actually managed to talk to—the mech who was letting the Autobots share his license—had refused to help, insisting that he had to keep his schedule consistent. He'd argued that some mecha had paid for his groundbridges in advance and he didn't want to force them to change their schedules with so little notice.
Not even to save the lives of thousands of refugees.
"…Elita?"
"Hmm?" she asked.
"Have you been able to acquire access to groundbridges?"
"No," Elita said. "I haven't made any headway on that at all. I don't know if one orn is enough time to work this out. And I don't think I'd be able to find places in Nova Cronum either. I'm sorry. I'll keep trying, but—"
"Hold on," Mainspring put a hand to his helm. "What?"
Silence fell around the table.
"What is it?" Optimus asked at length.
Mainspring looked up. "Megatron's armies are mobilizing. It looks like he's about to start bridging them into Tarn."
What?
"But we're supposed to have another orn," Ironhide said. "Why is he moving now?"
"Optimus?" Mainspring said. "We don't have groundbridges yet."
Elita watched Orion's faceplate. The fear and resignation in his optics was frightening, but she knew it didn't mean they were going to give up.
"Send them the coordinates," he said. "Tell them we'll have groundbridges ready in half a joor."
Autoceptor slowed to a stop at the corner, and Mirage followed suite.
"What?" Clampdown asked over their group comm.
"They're moving Kaltor," Autoceptor said. "I think they're taking him out of the building."
"Ha," Clampdown said. "So much for the plan. I told you we could just wing it. We don't even have to break in anywhere if we can take him while they're transporting him."
"I don't like changing plans halfway," Deep Cover said.
"Yeah," Autoceptor said. "They've left with him. I don't know where they think they're going, though… maybe the Council Hall…"
Silence fell. Mirage waited for someone to say something about that. Was that good news? Or bad news?
He got a message from Mainspring through his comm. and opened the data file in his processor.
[The attack on Tarn has begun. Direct all interested civilians to go to whichever of the following coordinates is most accessible to them. There will be groundbridges there, starting in half a joor]
Already?
Megatron was attacking already?
"Pit," Autoceptor said out loud.
"Someone needs to get everyone in the sector organized," Clampdown said.
"'Ceptor?" Deep Cover said.
"You two do that," Autoceptor said. "If they're taking Kaltor to the Council Hall, they might hand him over to Megatron. If we're going to rescue him, we have to do it before that."
"I don't think you'll make it," Deep Cover said. "But good luck."
"You two Autobots with me?" Autoceptor asked.
Mirage and Hound both voiced their willingness to help.
"Then keep up." Autoceptor took off down the road.
Megatron stepped through the groundbridge. It was evening here, and the sun had nearly set.
How fitting.
The age of the Tarn Council was at its close.
His army cheered him as he strode through the growing ranks. He raised his hand and fired his arm cannon into the sky, then leaped, transformed, and flew up above his soldiers.
There was no resistance from the mecha in the city.
That was almost disappointing.
"Sweep the city!" he ordered his mecha. "find the mines and factories, and free the oppressed! Take prisoners, but avoid killing. There will be other orns for killing. Go!"
Then he commed his guards, as well as Straxus and Soundwave, and told them to meet him at the Council Hall.
The Tarn Council had sent him messages over the past few decaorns, begging him to let them live in return for handing him the city.
He had replied with instructions, though he hadn't made any promises.
The city receded beneath him as he rose higher into the sky, with Soundwave following. He watched from above as his army spread out, threading through the streets, joined by the citizens of Tarn. There would probably be some burning and killing, despite his orders, but that was fine, so long as the majority of his opposers were captured.
He took off toward the center of the sector, flying to where he knew he would find the government buildings. As he approached the Council Hall, he could see that mecha were crowding there, shouting, filling the courtyards and the streets in the Council Complex. Apparently, word of Megatron's arrival had spread quickly.
The doors of the Hall were guarded by the Tarn Council Guard, though they looked very nervous.
Megatron landed in front of them, powering up his arm cannon.
The crowd behind him cheered.
"Stand aside," Megatron growled, as Soundwave landed to his left.
He didn't need to say it twice. The guards stepped to the side and let Megatron pass. Were these doors locked?
Soundwave commed him. "They're not."
Good.
Megatron threw them open.
The crowd surged up behind him, shouting, and he led them into the building.
Megatron could see Soundwave's nervousness in the quiet mech's motions, but he knew that if they were in any sort of danger from this crowd, the mech would tell him.
Megatron crossed the antechamber, ignoring the few cowering secretaries that hadn't abandoned their posts as he led his new followers to the doors of the Council Chamber. He knew exactly where he was going, as all of these buildings had a similar layout. Truly, the early Cybertronians had lacked creativity.
When he reached the doors to the Council Chamber, he turned around and roared. "Silence!"
A satisfying, compliant hush fell over the crowd.
"My friends," Megatron said. "This orn, you are free from the yoke of oppression!"
They cheered, and then fell quiet again, expectant.
"I must deal with the filth behind this door who call themselves a Council. Search this place. Gather the guards, the secretaries, any stray government officials, and take them to the courtyard outside. You can kill them there if you want to. But allow my generals to pass through the crowd when they arrive."
He turned and shoved the doors to the Council Chamber open. Soundwave slipped in behind him, and then the doors closed, muffling the noise of the crowd.
The head Councilmech was standing on the floor, and the raised stands seemed half empty, as if some of them had decided to run.
It didn't matter. Megatron would find them and kill them too.
"Lord Megatron," the head Councilmech said. "Welcome to our city."
"Have you done as I requested?" Megatron said.
The mech glanced to the side nervously. "Yes," he said. "We blocked off the roads and carefully regulated the groundbridge stations, so that no one could leave the city."
"He is lying." Soundwave said over the comm. "Some were secretly evacuating."
Megatron narrowed his optics. "First of all," he said. "I don't appreciate your dishonesty." He powered up his arm cannon. "Secondly," he shot the mech point blank in the helm, which left a smoking hole in his faceplate. "This is my city."
The body of the councilmech slumped to the ground and Megatron looked up at the others? "Does anyone else have a better answer to that question?"
They were all silent for a moment, optics darting back and forth between each other like a flock of frightened turbo-raptors.
True to form, they didn't seem upset that their leader had offlined—only afraid for their own lives.
"How about you?" Megatron demanded, raising his cannon to aim at a councilmech.
"Lord Megatron," the mech leaned sideways, eyeing his arm cannon. "A small group of enforcers were smuggling mecha out of the city. For all we know, they may have gotten a few thousand out, but probably no more than that. We arrested one of them. We actually have him here in the Council Hall, if you'd like to question him. We were about to speak with him ourselves when you… arrived."
Megatron glanced at Soundwave, who nodded.
"Very well. Bring him in." Megatron lowered his arm cannon.
The Councilmech motioned nervously at some guards off to the side, and they slipped through a door and returned after a few astroseconds dragging a semi-conscious mech with them. His frame was covered in dents and scrapes, and there were streaks of energon here and there, clearly visible against his silvery paint job.
The guards deposited him in front of Megatron, and he looked up with fearful resignation and met Megatron's optics evenly.
"So," Megatron said. "You were smuggling mecha out of the city."
The mech didn't respond.
"How?"
The mech still didn't answer.
But Soundwave answered for him. "The Autobots were helping them. They had a groundbridge."
What?
"How many?" Megatron growled, barely holding back the raging fire in his emotional core. "How many did you get out?"
The mech's lip plates quirked up toward what might have been a smile "More than sixty thousand," he said. "From all across the city-state."
No.
Sixty thousand.
Sixty thousand mecha he could have used in the mines.
Gone.
He grabbed the mech and raised him up to optic level. The injured enforcer shuttered his optics with a grimace.
"How!" Megatron demanded.
How had they accomplished it? How had the Autobots known to evacuate mecha in the first place?
The enforcer still said nothing, but he let out a choked, staticky whimper when Megatron's hand tightened around his neck.
"Tell me," Megatron said. "And I'll let you live. How long have you been evacuating? How long have the Autobots known we were going to attack? Did they know when?"
The mech looked surprised for a moment. "I don't know what…" he choked. "…you're talking about."
"They knew, down to the orn," Soundwave said. "They've been evacuating for almost a decaorn."
"How?" Megatron demanded again.
"I told you—"
"Shut up!" Megatron tightened his grip, and the mech's voice box let out a crackling hiss.
"He doesn't know," Soundwave said. "I don't think he knows anything more."
The slight edge to Soundwave's simulated voice made it obvious the mech was uncomfortable. He could probably feel this enforcer's pain.
Maybe he should stop listening then.
Megatron had been very careful about keeping his plans secret and somehow the Autobots had still discovered them.
He dropped the enforcer to the ground and the mech collapsed in a heap, clutching his throat and filling the otherwise silent room with harsh coughing.
Megatron powered up his arm cannon. "I would give you a chance to beg for your life," he said. "But it would be an insult to your misguided bravery. Thank you for bringing me valuable information."
He fired.
The mech collapsed to the ground and lay still. A puddle of blue liquid spread from his frame, reaching tendrils out to fill the stylized grooves in the floor tiles.
"Lord Megatron?" one of the Councilmechs said nervously, but Megatron ignored him and returned to the doors, which he opened wide to the crowd.
"My mecha!" he said.
They responded enthusiastically.
"These so-called Councilmechs have judged you and mistreated you and oppressed you. It is time now for them to be judged! For them to be treated as they have treated you!"
The crowd roared.
"It is time for you rise up and bathe their thrones in their own energon!"
The mecha added their thundering pedesteps to their shouting as they surged forward. Megatron transformed and flew above them, grateful for the ostentatiously high ceilings in this place.
He would leave what was left of the Council to their fate.
Right now he had other problems to deal with.
Soundwave followed him out the door and up onto the roof, where he transformed again.
"They knew," he rounded on his lanky advisor. "How did they know?"
Soundwave didn't flinch. "Someone must have leaked the information."
Megatron narrowed his optics. He had thought his influence over Soundwave was enough to ensure the mech's loyalty, but was it? "Who? Who told them?"
Soundwave shrugged.
"Who told them?" Megatron demanded again. "You know. You have to know, you can read their minds!" he powered up his cannon and aimed it at Soundwave's screen. Still the mech didn't flinch. Traitor. It was him. It had to be him.
"Me-e or Jazz," Soundwave said. "Or one of your three ba-attle commande-ers. One o-of them could have let it sli-ip a-a-acidentally-y."
"Was it you?"
"No."
"How can I trust you?"
Soundwave shook his helm. "You ca-an't afford not to. Besides… y-you know I'm lo-oyal."
Megatron powered down his cannon. "But you would have known. If it was any of them, you would have known, unless they told someone accidentally. Was it Demolishor? He's certainly stupid enough… and I can see Straxus getting overcharged and saying something… but how did it get back to the Autobots so quickly? We only told everyone eight orns ago."
Soundwave looked down.
"Do you have a theory?"
"I-if it was on purpose…" Soundwave said. "The-en it was Jazz."
Megatron narrowed his optics. "How could he possibly hide that from you?"
"He has pra-actice."
"What do you mean?"
"Secondary school."
Megatron frowned. He had heard Jazz and Soundwave had been rivals when they were younglings. But that still didn't seem like enough. How could Jazz completely hide the fact that he was working against Megatron?
"Nice story," he said. "Prove it to me and I'll start trusting you again."
He transformed and launched off of the roof. He thought he recognized Straxus and his guards pushing through the crowd.
Megatron should join them. He needed to introduce the citizens of Tarn to their new leader.
Mirage watched the slender jet take off from the roof and circle the courtyard as Megatron's bulkier alt mode landed below.
"That's Soundwave," he muttered, chills going down his back plating. "We need to leave."
There was no way they'd have been able to push through this crowd anyway.
"Who?" Hound asked.
Pit.
If Soundwave realized Mirage was here…
"Autoceptor," Mirage put a hand on his shoulder. "We can't rescue Kaltor, we have to go before that freak finds us."
"Sure," Autoceptor said, turning around and glaring at Mirage. "It doesn't matter. The mechling's dead already. Offlined half a breem ago."
Mirage stared. "What?"
"I have told you," Autoceptor growled. "He's got a tracker that sends his vitals directly to my comm. He's dead. Come on, let's get to those coordinates and get the frag out of here."
Slightly stunned, Mirage followed Autoceptor's lead in transforming and driving away. Mecha rushed through the streets in all directions. They sped past a ragtag group smashing in the windows of a store, and another chasing down a screaming femme who had an expensive-looking paint job.
Autoceptor took them down to a lower level of the city, where there were even more mecha running around, breaking things, attacking each other.
Mirage had never seen anything like this, but it didn't seem to faze Autoceptor at all. The older mech somehow managed to steer them clear of trouble, all the way down to the coordinates, where a large group of frightened looking mecha were waiting.
They met up with Deep Cover and Clampdown, who looked grim enough that they probably already knew about Kaltor.
Mirage could still barely believe it. They'd all seemed so confident that they'd be able to save the young enforcer, but none of them looked surprised. He glanced at Hound.
Hound met his optics for a moment, but then looked away again, with enough sorrow in his expression that Mirage had to take a moment and fight off the answering wave of realization in his own emotional core.
"We have about ten breems," Deep Cover said after the long, unpleasant pause. "I'm glad you made it."
"Yeah," Autoceptor said. "Now let's just hope the Autobots follow through on this, or we're all slagged."
More mecha filed in from various dark corridors, and the crowd grew.
Ten breems passed.
Nothing happened.
High Councilor Halogen had been rudely awakened from his recharge when his assistant had decided to make him aware of the Decepticon attack in Tarn.
He had been displeased at first, but now he was grateful. He didn't want to miss this golden opportunity.
"Let him in," Halogen said.
The handful of Councilmechs around him were just barely enough to ratify decisions, which was good, because Halogen was about to make some.
The Council Chamber doors opened and a young red and blue mech entered the Council Hall and strode purposefully to the center of the room.
"Optimus Prime," Halogen said. "Welcome. We haven't seen you here for a while. One would almost think you've been ignoring our requests to speak with you."
Optimus didn't seem interested in discussing that. "Councilor Halogen, the Decepticons are attacking Tarn."
"We are aware," Halogen said. "How is your evacuation going?"
"We need more groundbridges."
"Oh," Halogen said. "That's unfortunate."
"You offered to supply us with your resources," Optimus said. "In order to rescue more mecha from Tarn… I humbly request your aid in requisitioning groundbridges in Iacon for a joor."
Halogen raised an optic ridge. "Really? I was under the impression you didn't want to make use of our resources, for fear we would use our influence over you to control you. Isn't that correct?"
"We do not have time for this," Optimus said. "We can work out the negotiations later, but the mecha in Tarn must be evacuated now before Megatron realizes they're gathering."
Halogen measured the desperation on the young mech's faceplate. He already had more influence over the Autobots than Optimus would likely acknowledge. Halogen had the key to Vector Sigma. The ultimate decision about whether this mech would ever be a fully-realized Prime was in his hands.
"You ousted the mech we recommended as your second in command," Halogen said. "We have no ties to your organization. What is it to us if you can't relocate mecha from Tarn?"
"You promised us the use of your resources."
"That was back when we had something to do with your army," Halogen said. "Perhaps if you would allow us to instate someone else as your second in command…"
Optimus hesitated. "Do you have someone in mind?"
"Not at the moment," Halogen said. There were actually several good options, but he didn't think Optimus would like any of them. "However, if you are willing to agree to allowing a Council-affiliated representative into the ranks of your commanders, I think I may be able to pull a few strings and get you access to some groundbridges."
Optimus hesitated.
"As you have stated before," Halogen said. "You do not have an abundance of time to make this decision. We will not help you if you will not work with us."
Halogen expected him to waste time attempting to appeal to the Council's sympathy. After all, the would-be refugees could be killed under Megatron's rule.
But the young Prime must be learning, because he didn't.
Optimus was far enough away that Halogen couldn't see his expression clearly, but he didn't like how hard the mech seemed to be thinking about the proposal. This naïve archivist was growing too cautious too quickly. The Council would have to ensure his allegiance before it was too late.
"No," Optimus said, looking up with the dawning light of realization on his faceplate. "If you won't help us, we'll search for another option. Thank you for your time, Councilor Halogen."
Optimus turned and headed for the door he'd come through just a breem ago.
Halogen narrowed his optics. "Do not walk away from our generous offer," he said. "You cannot fight without the support of the Council. You cannot win this war without our help."
Orion stopped and turned around to face him. "Honestly, Councilor, if we can't win this war without your help, we don't deserve to win it. Thousands of mecha may offline this orn, because of your petty refusal to keep your promises. If they do, their deaths will be on your helm."
And without another word, he turned and left.
Halogen scowled.
"Well," Ratbat said. "That was unexpected."
"What will we do now?" Senator Decimus asked. "Weren't you relying on him making this agreement?"
Halogen shook his helm. "We don't need to do anything. We have made certain the managers at the groundbridge stations won't listen to them. We are their only option. Whether or not he blames us for what happens in Tarn, he is the one who will feel guilty, knowing he could have prevented it by working with us. Besides, we can find other ways to influence him."
"Mirage, it's long past time for you to come home—especially since you said Soundwave is in the city."
Mirage sighed, looking out over the gathering crowd.
"Mirage?" Mainspring's voice said.
"I know," he muttered. "Give me a breem."
"What was that?" Deep Cover asked.
"I have to go," Mirage said.
"They can't get a bridge for us, can they?" the enforcer asked. "We're sitting turbo-ducks in this cave."
"I'm sorry," Mirage said. "Don't give up just yet."
"I can try to hide us all if the Decepticons find us," Hound said.
"Not if Soundwave comes to look for you," Mirage said. "But I'm sure that would be helpful otherwise." He wanted to ask the mech where he'd gotten that hologram mod, especially since there was a possibility he'd never have another chance…
"Mirage, you can't stay there. You know too much and we can't risk letting the Decepticons capture you." Mainspring insisted.
"The Prime won't give up until he's gotten you all out safely," Mirage promised. "Good luck."
"Where are you going?" Deep Cover asked.
"I can't risk being captured." Mirage didn't want to admit that he had a free ticket to safety, so he didn't give them time to ask any more questions before walking away, weaving through the crowd.
He left the cavern and drove for a few klicks until he found a secluded spot.
"All right," he said to Mainspring over the comm. "I'm ready. Do you have my coordinates?"
"Yes. Give us half a breem."
Mirage stood waiting in the darkness for several astroseconds, before a small groundbridge opened in front of him. He walked through, feeling guilty and wishing again he could bring the others. His personal bridge was attuned to his spark signal, though, and no one else could travel through it.
He stepped out of the bridge into the familiar groundbridge room. Murals on the walls depicted city-scapes, mountains, and canyons—all the places a noblemech might like to visit.
The mech operating the groundbridge—one of Mirage's few remaining servants—nodded to him. "Welcome home, your lordship."
The title felt wrong at the moment. Mirage ignored him and left the room. He walked past his vaults and up the stairs to the floor where most of the Autobots were staying. He headed straight for the meeting room, and ran into Optimus just before they reached it.
"Welcome back, Mirage," Optimus said.
The Prime looked worried. That was a bad sign.
They entered the meeting room together. Optimus went to sit between Ironhide and Elita, and Mirage found an empty spot between Mainspring and Red Alert.
"Thank you for coming back," Mainspring muttered.
Mirage crossed his arms. Did they have bridges yet? He wanted to ask, but wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Well?" Ironhide asked. "What did the Council say?"
"They won't help us," Optimus said. "Not unless we give them more influence over our army."
Silence fell for a moment.
"Maybe it's worth it," Mirage put in. "There are thousands of mecha in Tarn, waiting to be rescued. We can't leave them there, just because we don't want to be affiliated with the Council."
"You let the Council get a pede in the door and everything goes to pit," Ironhide said. "That's too dangerous."
Mirage glared at him. Ironhide glared back.
"If I may..." Prowl said stiffly.
They all looked at him
"I do have one idea. I don't think you'll all like the idea, but seeing as we're almost out of alternatives…"
"If you had an idea you should have said so earlier," Chromia snapped. "Just spit it out, would you?"
"I was relatively certain it would get shot down," Prowl glared coldly at Chromia.
"Prowl?" Optimus said, cutting off Chromia's retort. "What is your idea?"
"Well," Prowl said, with a flick of his doorwings. "We do have an army. Granted they've only had one orn of training, but if we play our cards right, there'll be no need for any actual fighting…"
Megatron flew through the caves underneath Tarn. Soundwave had found a mech who knew the coordinates where escapees were gathering. Supposedly, the Autobots were going to open a groundbridge there for the citizens to flee through.
He'd lost patience and left his soldiers behind. Most of his flyers were afraid to navigate the narrow passages in alt mode for fear of crashing into the walls, and he didn't have any seekers.
If he got there fast enough, though, he might be able to single-handedly prevent mecha from going through the bridge. At the very least he could kill some of them on their way out.
There was a familiar fluctuating green light around a corner. A groundbridge. The groundbridge was open.
Megatron fought the urge to speed up before the turn, and flew around the bend and out into an open cavern full of mecha.
A few below him tried to dodge out of the way as he skimmed low over the Tarnians filing through the bridge.
They were escaping.
He opened fire into the packed crowd, relishing their screaming and confusion as they all tried to rush to the edges of the cavern.
He needed them away from that groundbridge. If he could distract them long enough, his army would catch up. There was no point in capturing them—there were a few hundred here, at most—but he could take out his frustration on them.
He flew up toward the ceiling and then turned down to make another pass, but stopped.
The cavern below him was empty.
Empty.
Bare floor, no groundbridge, no crowd of mecha.
He could still hear them. He could hear someone shouting for them all to get through the bridge as quickly as possible.
But he could see none of them.
What was going on? Had he somehow flown into a different cave? The dimensions of this one were similar, but the ground looked closer.
Confused, he flew low to the rocky surface and the volume of the noise increased.
Interesting. He wished he had Soundwave with him, but he had told the mech to stay above ground and keep looking for more mecha who knew about the evacuation.
He transformed to land, but instead of hitting the ground his pedes went right through it. The ground disappeared, revealing the crowd below.
What?
Mecha beneath him cleared out of his way, screaming again as he fell and landed among them. He barely had time to observe his surroundings before everything went dark. The only light he could see was what looked like a reflection of his own red optics.
He turned up their brightness, frowning when he discovered he was inside of what appeared to be a metal cylinder.
Where had that come from?
The ground seemed to have been some sort of illusion. Was this another illusion?
Cautiously, he raised his arm cannon, powering it up.
He fired and the shot went right through the smooth wall, causing it to disappear.
A mech in front of him cried out and fell to the ground, clutching the smoking socket that had once been his shoulder.
"Stop!" Megatron shouted. "No one else goes through that bridge!"
There was a moment of frightened silence, save for the moaning mech who'd lost his arm.
Motion caught Megatron's optic, and he glanced to the side as a mech leaped toward him. He fired at the offender, but the shot went right through and the mech disappeared. Several others in the cave gasped.
Something heavy slammed into Megatron from behind and he stumbled forward, but didn't lose his footing. With a growl, he reached around and grabbed the mech who'd jumped him.
"Through the bridge you idiots!" someone shouted from elsewhere in the cave. "Don't just stand there! Go!"
Megatron tore his attacker from his back and slammed him into the ground, wincing as the mech's armor held strong instead of crumpling. The mech had enforcement insignias on his shoulders.
Another one of these. This mech had probably been helping throughout the entire evacuation.
"Clampdown!" someone nearby shouted, and Megatron looked up to see another enforcer racing in his direction.
He fired his arm cannon, aiming right for the spark chamber of the mech he was kneeling on. The mech screamed, but didn't die instantly. Stupid enforcer armor.
Megatron fired again, and this time his would-be attacker fell limp.
The other mech roared, charging.
Megatron stood and his integrated blade slid out of his arm.
Around him appeared numerous copies of the mech racing toward him, but Megatron was through with being fooled.
Only one of those was real—only one of them had real pain and fury behind his optics.
Autoceptor could almost feel it himself when the gladiator's blade slid through Deep Cover's chassis. He heard the Autobot schoolteacher gasp next to him, but he was frozen in place.
Idiots. Fragging idiots, all of them.
Deep Cover made no sound as Megatron pulled the now energon-streaked blade from him. He slumped to the ground, though, and the gladiator neatly sliced his helm off, then looked up.
They hadn't even put a scratch on him.
The last few mecha were going through the bridge now. Even the mech who'd lost an arm, and a couple of mecha who'd been shot during Megatron's entrance were being helped through by their fellow citizens.
A hazy sort of barrier sprang up between them and the warlord, and through it, Autoceptor could see that Hound had filled Megatron's side of the cavern with a vast crowd and several distant, glowing groundbridges.
The gladiator roared and started firing randomly, but his arm cannon seemed to need time to power up, and Hound was filling the space with holograms faster than Megatron could clear them.
The last few citizens went through the bridge.
"Let's go," Autoceptor said, glancing over at Hound. The schoolteacher had a blank look in his optics, and he was trembling.
"Hey," Autoceptor hissed, grabbing the mech's shoulder and shaking them. "Come on!"
Hound blinked and stared at him.
Autoceptor growled and dragged him toward the bridge. "Through," he said, shoving the mech toward the glowing portal.
"What about…"
"I'll follow you, just get in there!"
Hound nodded and started to through the bridge.
Autoceptor glanced over his shoulder once to see the gladiator staring directly at him.
Then he sprinted through the bridge after the shell-shocked school teacher and came out on the other side.
"Shut the bridge!" he shouted. "Now! Shut it!"
The stunned-looking groundbridge operator obligingly shut the bridge, and Autoceptor stood in front of it as it closed, not daring to vent.
Finally, the glowing portal disappeared completely and Autoceptor shut his optics, relief warring with the loss.
He'd left his friends behind. Granted, they'd already been offline, but…
It should have been him, frag it.
"Was that everyone?" someone asked from off to the side.
Autoceptor turned to look at the mech standing there. He was leaning gingerly on a rifle and seemed none too sure of himself.
"Yeah," the old enforcer said.
"You can follow the others out of the groundbridge station," the rifle mech said, gesturing toward where the stragglers from Autoceptor's group were limping away, The next groundbridge over was still active and a stream of mecha were coming through, directed by more mecha with weapons.
What were the weapons for?
What the frag was going on here?
Autoceptor rounded on the mech with the rifle. "Where's the Prime?"
The mech looked startled. "I… don't know. I… think he actually is at this station, but..."
"Well, find out. I need to talk to him," Autoceptor growled.
Beside him, Hound sank to his knees.
"I don't know if—"
"Shut up then," Autoceptor said, then turned his attention to the primary school teacher. "Mechling, you all right? You didn't get hit did you?"
Hound shook his helm.
"Come on," Autoceptor held down a hand. "Let's get you out of here and find a medic to take a look at you."
"I'm not hurt," Hound muttered.
"Don't care," Autoceptor said. "Let's go."
Hound probably hadn't seen anyone offline before and Autoceptor had to find someone to pass the mechling off to before he hunted down the Prime.
Notes:
1. Ugh, it took me like a MONTH to edit this chapter. Good thing I had a buffer.
2. Thanks for reading and reviewing and all that! It is much appreciated.