Chapter 9
Prey
Lorne was quick when it came to mundane things. After speaking with Zelenka, it took him all of ten minutes to reach the barracks, stow his equipment, find his assigned locker for his stay, wash, dress in something less sticky, then get his stuff back. He also took thirty seconds to acquire an earpiece radio, special equipment meant for use by the senior personnel. After that, he took a quick detour back to the Stargate to contact Colonel Sheppard and share details on what he'd learned, which took another eight minutes. He'd just closed the wormhole when he realized the little black device in his ear he'd been using to speak with Sheppard was clicking frantically, indicating someone wanted to talk with him, badly by the sounds of it. He quickly tuned it to the appropriate channel and soon the voice of Zelenka emerged from the little speaker.
"Major, Major are you there?" the man asked. Perplexed, Lorne stepped away from the DHD, pressing a hand to his ear to improve the sound quality.
"Zelenka? What is it? Did you find something about those radios?"
"Oh díky bohu, I thought you might not be connected to the base network yet and I'd have to come find you." the Czech said, and for the first time Lorne realized there was panic in his voice, "Listen, you need to come to the communications building right now. We have a very, very serious problem."
"What kind of problem?" Lorne asked, beginning to walk slowly towards the aforementioned building. He'd barely gone six feet when the loudspeakers mounted at the corners of some of the buildings began to wail a blood-chilling siren note. Lorne instinctively clamped his hands over his ears, which meant that as whirling red alert lights began to flash through the windows of every structure, he was still able to hear Zelenka's response.
"That kind of problem!" the physicist declared. Lorne didn't need to be told more. He was running now. All prior banal thoughts of things like his planned meeting with the civilian administrator to discuss the long-term details of the task force's stay and recording a message for the A.O.A. before nightfall had vanished utterly. This was because the siren was an air-raid siren, and out here in the Pegasus Galaxy, that meant only one thing: Wraith. He got about halfway to the comms building before he saw them: six fiery streaks in the sky, roaring down at steep angles. Suddenly the siren gave an electric burp and cut out, and some of the loudspeakers actually burst, spitting sparks. All the lights around Lorne went out as his hair stood on end like he'd been rubbing his feet on the world's biggest carpet.
Shock and confusion filled the Major's mind. There was no doubt as to what had just happened; the Alpha Site had been hit by an electromagnetic pulse. The Wraith didn't use EMPs. Most of the human societies they preyed on were nowhere near advanced enough to warrant it. In the distance he heard a bellow of anger and the sound of an Autobot transforming. Suddenly Ironhide was there, black and silver head looming just above the buildings.
"Scrap!" he roared, extending both arm-cannons, "Incoming!" Doors were bursting open as personnel hurried to their posts. Standard procedure in the event of a Wraith attack on the Alpha Site was to secure the Stargate and open a wormhole before the Wraith could, thereby ensuring an easy evacuation route. Meanwhile the base's self-destruct would be armed, ensuring nothing would remain for the alien vampires to scavenge. Three railgun emplacements around the triangular perimeter would act as a distraction for any Darts, while other personnel were to take up positions and assist in any way possible to speed the evacuation.
Lorne knew though that they were not prepared. Oh, he had no doubt that everyone knew their jobs and could do them to the very best of their ability. They wouldn't be out here otherwise. No, he knew they weren't ready, because the attackers weren't Wraith. The fireballs were maneuvering now, changing course. Four seemed to grow, and as Lorne squinted, he saw it was because they were spreading open wings like diving birds of prey. Just like raptors, they braked, turned, swooped off and began to circle the perimeter. Their exact shape apart from the wings was hard to make out through the residual heat and smoke of their descent, but they looked somewhat like B-2 bombers with long, pointed tails and an indentation where their cockpit should've been. As they screamed through the heavens with a sound like A-10 Warthogs doing a flyby, they opened fire, strafing the buildings with heavy tracer rounds that ate through the concrete like blows from a jackhammer.
Swearing Lorne raced for cover. He had to get to Zelenka. In the lane across from him, he heard Ironhide spitting curses in Cybertronian, just as the larger of the two remaining falling objects braked and broke off, revealing itself as a huge craft with a swept-forward wing design with dozens of thruster nozzles and even more guns. The ship seemed to be geared for aerial fire support more than its smaller brethren, because second after slowing, it began to hover, kept aloft by its many blazing thrusters as its guns began to lay waste to the base. Far off, a spray of white fire speared into the heavens. Someone had reached one of the railgun platforms. The salvo managed to tag one of the smaller craft, which flashed and spun out of control. For a moment Lorne though it had gone down, but then he realized what he'd seen: the flicker of a shield.
The craft that had been hit righted itself, swooped away, then came back in a narrow arc, aimed at the source of the railgun fire. Rather than strafe it however, the craft did something else entirely. The wings, wide and straight like knives, folded back into the main body, which split, dozens of metal pieces detaching and reconfiguring in an all-too-familiar pattern.
The half-transformed Cybertronian plowed into the unseen gun emplacement in a ball of fire, the shockwave blowing out windows across half the base. Lorne felt himself picked up and thrown, which would've winded him if he hadn't stuck the landing and rolled. Coughing, smoke filling his lungs while broken plate glass rained down, the Major watched in horror as the Cybertronian, now fully transformed, emerged from the pillar of smoke, shields crackling. It leaped up, jets affixed to its shoulders propelling it, allowing it to land atop the nearest building still standing, then fired.
-O-
Radek's head was ringing, his vision blurred. He could hear several voices, one of which was shouting. Hands that felt somehow without real substance hauled him to his feet and he found himself facing Ratchet's holoform.
"Doctor Zelenka! Are you well enough to move?" he said, drowning out everything else. He didn't shout, instead he seemed to have simply increased the volume of the projection's voice by a good three- or four-hundred percent. Radek nodded shakily, trying to straighten his glasses, only to find one lens was cracked from his fall after the shockwave had hit.
"Good. We cannot remain here. Communications is a likely next target. We must get to the Stargate." Zelenka nodded again. Then a realization struck him and he turned to the work table where the shattered Insecticon still lay. He rushed over and scooped the thing up, along with some of the radios, then heaved them into the box they'd come in, before slamming the lid.
"What are you doing?" Ratchet asked.
"Did you remove the tracking device?" Radek asked.
"I have. What-" the Autobot began, looking puzzled and slightly annoyed, which made Radek want to laugh, given how incongruous a reaction it was for the situation.
"We need evidence. Proof. And we need to study this. If there was one of these, there might be more!" Radek declared, hefting the box in his arm. Ratchet did not protest further, but simply nodded and gestured to the door.
"I have parked myself outside. When you emerge, I will cover your escape, though I suggest you do so soon. One of the craft is targeting the building." he explained. Radek needed no further prompting. He looked over the room.
"Doctor Zelenka!" called a voice from nearby. Radek whirled and saw to his horror that all was not well. Of the five other people who had been in the lab, two were dead. One, Dr. Frantziska, who had helped hook the equipment the task force had brought into the machines occupying the building, had slipped and by freakish chance, brained herself on the corner of one of the heavy stainless steel lab tables. Another Dr. Lammert, was partially splattered over one wall, his remains aligned with the stippling of holes along one section of ceiling and wall created by the heavy rounds of whatever was raining fire on the base. The other two survivors, Doctors Fabian and Ante, were struggling to lift a fallen server bank off the legs of their surviving, albeit apparently concussed co-worker, Dr. Nynke.
"Čubčí syn!" Radek cursed. Fabian looked at him imploringly. Radek started to approach, but Ratchet stepped past him, moving quickly. The holoform, which had no real mass, but didn't seem to care, grabbed the server bank with both hands and heaved. Zelenka noted with surprise that the Autobot's illusory face showed strain as he single-handedly moved the immensely heavy stack of computer parts. Did it really take effort on his part? Or was it just one more social nicety to be mimicked to avoid frightening his human colleagues?
"Doctor Zelenka, hurry outside. My vehicle form contains a stretcher. You will need it." the Autobot commanded. There was no room for discussion in his voice. Radek had seen this before, in Dr. Carson Beckett, back when he'd been in charge of the Atlantis infirmary. It was the attitude of a healer concerned only with his patient. Radek, knowing better than to disobey, turned and ran, pausing to drop the box on a nearby table.
As the short Czech physicist shouldered the door open, trying to keep his glasses on his face,the chaos outside hit him full force. One quick look took everything in. Three alien fighter craft, shaped like flying broad-headed arrows, were pounding away at the base with the help of a far larger one that looked like a flying fortress. A crash nearby pulled his attention to his left, where he saw Ironhide locked in a hand-to-hand and gun-to-gun struggle with a red-eyed, somewhat spindly-looking Transformer of about the same height as himself.
"Doctor!" came Ratchet's booming voice, and Zelenka wrenched himself away from the spectacle to face Ratchet's yellow and red shape, parked mere meters from the door. Parts of his vehicle form were retracted to expose a variety of guns that were firing every time Ironhide's opponent left himself open to attack. Radek raced forward, just as a hatch popped and a white, collapsible stretcher was ejected from the Autobot's side.
"Hurry!" commanded the Autobot medic. Zelenka grabbed the stretcher and turned to see someone come racing out of the growing haze of dust and smoke covering the base. Instinctively Radek raised the stretcher to fend off the potential attacker, remembering once when he'd been a boy in Czechoslovakia how a political protest had spiralled out of control, people turning to looting and rioting for hours before the police regained control.
"Whoa, hey! Doc, it's me!" shouted the figure. Radek shifted his glasses suspiciously, then realized it was Major Lorne.
"Major! Thank god!" Radek shouted over the din, "Doctor Nynke is hurt! We need to get her out!" As he spoke, behind him, Ratchet cast off his disguise and transformed fully, extending his medical saw with a whining shriek before charging into the fray. As Zelenka watched over his shoulder, Ironhide pinned his writhing attacker against a building in a shower of debris. The Decepticon, for surely that was what it had to be, raised and arm and transformed one hand into a hook-like appendage, which it buried in Ironhide's back before headbutting him, then kneeing him in an effort to get him off. Every time it struck the Autobot, Zelenka saw with horror the shimmering flash of a shield. The connotations of that fact were not good in any way.
"Come on!" Lorne shouted, grabbing Radek's shoulder and racing for the door while the titans duked it out. Zelenka followed.
"Major, listen I must tell you-" he began, mouth running on autopilot.
"Not now!" the man replied. The shrieking sound of one of the smaller fighter-craft drew near and the Czech looked up in terror to see it was coming in for a strafing run.
"Look out!" he cried, bulling his way forward and shoving Lorne through the door and down on his chest and the steady thumping of the craft's guns filled his ears. Stone chips and metal fragments spat into the air in a cloud of dust. The huge rounds punched fresh holes in the structure of the building, missing the duo by inches. From outside can a flurry of explosions as Ironhide fired his cannons, their huge reports unmistakable even over the thunderous din. Radek struggled back to his feet, Lorne following.
"Come on!" Lorne said, looking back at the damaged wall and door behind them, "We need to move!" Radek nodded vigorously and hastily unfolded the stretcher, prompting Lorne to grab the far end. Together they struggled over the debris of the lab, smashed electronics crunching underfoot like bones while wires sparked overhead, showering them in sparks. Doctors Fabian and Ante rushed forward to help until Lorne gestured for them to stay put. Finally they drew level with the injured Dr. Nynke, whose mouth was flapping open and closed without making a sound, as if she were in so much pain that screams alone would not suffice.
"Get your arms under her!" Lorne commanded the two men, "On the count of three! One...two… thre-" As he said three, another booming shockwave rumbled through the room and more rubble fell from the ceiling, though thankfully not right on them. The two scientists ignored it and heaved, shifting their injured colleague atop the stretcher.
"Good!" Lorne shouted, the sound of battle making it harder and harder for him to be heard, "Now take over! Zelenka, follow me!" As Lorne and Radek turned over the handles of the stretcher to the two doctors, the Czech rushed to grab the box he had abandoned.
"What are you doing!?" Lorne shouted as an earth-shaking explosion caused them all to stumble. Not far away, possibly right next door given how much dust suddenly blew in the broken windows, a building rumbled and collapsed.
"I'll explain later!" Radek shouted back, hurrying over with the box under his arm. Lorne shook his head in bewilderment, then refocused on the door, through which light still shone despite all the damage.
"Let's go! We need to get to the gate!" he ordered.
"Will it still be working!?" asked Doctor Ante, worry playing over his dust-shrouded face as he held the rear of the stretcher.
"We got hit with an EMP, but the Stargate has backups linked to the DHD! They should be immune!"
"Won't they be expecting us to go that way though!?" Ante pressed, shifting his weight from one leg to another in a nervous little dance before a groan from Nynke caused him to stop.
"If they were Wraith, they might! But these aren't Wraith...I don't know how much they know! We have to try though!" Lorne answered, "Come on! Stay right behind me! Keep her head steady as you can and keep up!" He dropped to a crouch, pulling out his sidearm, for all the good it would do, and advanced towards the door, waving for the others to follow. Moving as one, they retraced the Major's steps back through the wreckage of the lab and out the door. No sooner were they out, but a fresh blast nearly threw them off their feet. Radek looked back just in time to see fire fill the lab as an ominous groan came from the whole building's infrastructure.
"GO!" roared Lorne, and they ran, dust choking the air as half the comms building collapsed behind them, rubble spilling outwards in a torrent of dust and smoke. As they fled, Radek found himself wishing he had taken that vacation with his brother after all. Sorting books might be boring but at least it didn't involve being shot at.
-O-
Above the growing pall of smoke and ruin, the hunter stared down from his gunship, which circled the edge of the battle while the automated attack craft did their work. His previous excitement at finally returning to the hunt had now been replaced by puzzlement. It had only taken a couple quartexes to determine that these were not his intended prey. Yes, he had anticipated the presence of the human vermin, but they seemed less well-armed than he had expected. Furthermore, the two targets being engaged by one of the smaller drones were not part of his contract. Engaging his helm's advanced image-recognition systems, he switched to infrared to bypass the growing cloud of dust and homed in on the pair of Autobots fighting the transformed drone to a standstill. The built-in link to his ship's database quickly provided him with an ID match based on a brief overview of their fighting styles, armament and body profiles.
The hunter's grin returned. These were not his intended prey, but they were no less valuable...if he did this right, anyway. A quick check displayed the bounties on both, which only made him smile wider. Reaching into the canopy of the gunship, he unclipped the enormous rifle stowed there, its bulk unfolding and elongating as he brought it down. As he swung it around to point out the open side of the gunship's rear compartment, automated systems linked the weapon up with a supportive harness that extended from the framework of the vessel preemptively, connecting the lengthy weapon in a set of recoil-absorbing and aim-stabilizing tethers. Green eyes gleaming with anticipation, the hunter ordered the autopilot to bring him in closer, activating the optical link for his helm's HUD to the weapon's scope.
-O-
Drift was on the outskirts of the Alpha Site's perimeter when the ships had descended. It had taken him about five micro-cycles to identify them for what they were: heavily-modified Decepticon interceptor drones. If he had been outside his vehicle form, he would've grimaced. The last time he had seen things like those, Starscream had been using them to raze Cormukan to dust during the last hours of the war on Cybertron. He had little time to reminisce though, because no sooner had he ID'ed them, they opened fire. Cursing, he had struggled to find a place to take cover while the panicking humans fled towards the Stargate. He had called out to those nearby, urging them to seek cover and stay out of the open. Most listened, but more than a few ignored him, only to be turned into paste by strafing runs. He'd taken shelter in the shadow of a large storage building, located on the east side of the complex, which seemed to be relatively ignored by the attacking drones.
The heavier assault craft focused its fire on the main structure at the core of the Site, shredding it with a persistent hail of fire, along with anyone inside or trying to get out. Drift wondered if the humans had managed to arm the self-destruct. He had been briefed on the protocols, but could not recall if the explosive device the humans had in place was hardened against EMPs. Then again, humans seemed to love keeping the controls for their nuclear fission devices as low-tech as possible, so perhaps it had been spared. Either way, it didn't matter. Drift knew that one way or another, in about twenty minutes, the entire Alpha Site and everyone in it would be a smoking ruin. A swooping interceptor fired a barrage of missiles into the base's fuel depot, causing an enormous fireball to erupt at one corner of the triangular perimeter. Thick black smoke began to fill the air as Drift struggled to simultaneously evaluate his armaments, locate his allies and prevent anyone else from getting killed. He looked down, and saw six men and women pressed up against the same wall as him, looking up at him. He focused on one; redheaded, her follicles still dripping water from a recent exterior cleansing. Her nametag read 'Cadman'. She was one of three of the six that were carrying weapons, and her tags identified her as the highest-ranking of all those present.
"Lieutenant!" he asked, "Can you lead these people to safety?"
"Maybe. Can you provide covering fire?" she called up. Drift turned, peeking over the lip of the building's roof. In the distance he could see the signs of Ironhide and Ratchet engaging one of the drones. He had quickly worked out from the way one of the things had obliterated one of the base's railgun emplacements that they had a protective energy barrier of some kind, though how strong it was remained to be seen. Drift silently wished he had more experience fighting opponents with such a device. On Cybertron, shields were rare, not like here in these galaxies once ruled by the Ancients. Their creation was a lost art, one of many his home Kalis had pursued until its destruction. If these drones had them, it could mean any number of things, none of them good.
"Everything alright!?" Drift flinched and realized he was ignoring the Lieutenant's question. He looked down again.
"Hardly. I have no weapons for a ground-to-air battle, and I am unsure how effective I would be against these machines in direct combat." he replied. Suddenly a thought struck him.
"Where is the nearest railgun battery?" he asked. He knew those at least were hardened against EMP, as the brief stream of fire from the one destroyed by the drone which had Ratchet and Ironhide occupied had proved. If he could just reach one…
"One hundred meters that way!" Cadman shouted as a drone screamed overhead, swooping around for another strafing run, this one aimed at the base's barracks, which were thankfully already empty, "But we'll never make it! The instant we power up, we'll get ripped to shreds!"
Drift frowned. The human was right. The guns were designed to be active and armed before the enemy even entered the atmosphere. The speed of this attack had caught them all off-guard. Still, they had to try.
"I will do my best to shield you. If we can force another of them to the ground or attract their attention away from destroying the rest of the base, it will give others a better chance to escape." he said, "How many are needed to operate the weapon?"
"Two people." Cadman answered, ducking down as enormous tracer rounds cut into the building across from their hiding spot. Drift nodded.
"I suggest you pick someone to lead those of this group not equipped with weapons to the Stargate, and bring the other with you. I will do my best to keep their attention away from you." he said. Just then, a shriek of tearing metal caused Drift to peek back over the building's roof. He saw to his delight, Ironhide, the drone caught in a bear-hug as Ratchet held it by the collar. The brief flickers of light indicating its shields were active were no longer present, and as he watched, Ratchet gutted the squirming machine with his medical saw, ripping out its pseudo-Spark and tossing it as far as he could. The limp husk sagged, before being tossed aside. Drift almost cheered, when a resounding boom echoed across the complex. Ironhide was thrown back, and to his horror, Drift saw a gaping hole blasted in his shoulder, rendering one of his arms all but useless. A roar of fury and pain resounded through the dust-filled air as Drift stepped away from the wall, trying to find the source of the shot.
"What, what happened?!" Cadman shouted up. Drift ignored her, sweeping his optics from horizon to horizon until he saw the gunship, the sixth member of the group of attacking craft, and the only one that as yet had not joined in reducing the base to rubble. He focused his optics, trying to see inside the compartment. As he did, the craft banked and turned in mid-air, affording the Autobot the view of a long, needle-nosed barrel protruding from the side, hooked into support straps. Drift recognized the weapon immediately as the Cybertronian equivalent of a sniper rifle, though humans would've probably classified it as an anti-tank weapon. He felt the Energon drain from his facial articulators, before his Spark hardened with resolve.
"Change of plans, Lieutenant." he said, looking down, "Send the rest of the group away, but we have a new target." He pointed at the circling craft. "We need to bring down that gunship."
"Why!?" Cadman demanded. Drift smirked.
"Because if I'm right, whoever's onboard is controlling these drones. Bring him down and we may be able to force them to regroup automatically." The woman looked at him as if she wanted to ask him to explain, but then she shook her head.
"Alright, fine." she said, then glanced over at one of the two members of the group against the wall, "Yancy! You get these three out of here. Edgars, you're with me!"
"Sir, yes sir!" cried the two soldiers. Drift nodded, then looked back towards the main building just in time to see a huge section collapse in a rising column of smoke and ash. Fires were burning in the distance, spreading this way, both from the destroyed railgun emplacement and the fuel depot. A quick crash of a door being kicked in caused Drift to glance over at the door in the wall they'd all been pressed against. Yancy had forced it open, and was hustling the other unarmed members of the band through. With luck, the structure would provide a bit of cover from the shrapnel and smoke while they made for the Stargate.
Once they were out of sight, Cadman glanced up at him, then looked over at Edgars, who was checking her weapon.
"You ready, Sergeant?" she asked. In response, the other woman took the safety off her gun. It was one of the special ones, made for fighting Decepticons...or at least distracting them.
"As I can be, sir!" she replied. Cadman nodded, then turned back to Drift.
"Lead the way!"
-O-
Ironhide struggled to stand, his damaged shoulder sending arcs of pain through his sensory receptors. Ratchet stood to his side, draping the carcass of the downed drone over himself in an attempt to thwart the sniper. It didn't help. As Ironhide struggled to find cover, a second thunderous *BOOM* ripped across the sky and the medic cried out.
"Ratchet!" Ironhide bellowed, before a spray of tracers from the biggest of the five remaining craft raked the ground between the two Autobots, driving them apart. Ratchet slumped, a large hole now evident in the left side of his torso.
"COWARDS!" roared Ironhide, firing desperately up at the big ship, hoping to drive it off. Instead the huge craft turned, trying to bring its forward-mounted weapons to bear on the duo, backing its bulk up over the smoking ruin of the command center. Ironhide dived away, looking for shelter in the shadow of a machine shop that hadn't yet been leveled. Another shot ignited a welding torch of pain in his lower left leg. He swore vigorously in Cybertronian. Ironhide hated snipers on principle, but this one had the gall to toy with them. As he ducked out of the crosshairs of the big assault ship, he tried to collect himself.
[Ratchet! Are you still functional?] he broadcast over his integrated comms.
[As much as it is possible to be. I'll try and patch the wound, but our cover won't last long.] the wounded medic replied. Ironhide shook his head.
[We're on a deadline regardless. I looked at the schematics of the base before we arrived. Even with that EMP, the self-destruct device is still viable, and given our luck, probably already active.]
[So what's the plan?] asked Ratchet, as concrete chunks clanged off Ironhide's helm, the big ship having decided it was easier to demolish his cover rather than force him out of it.
[The humans are already moving for the Stargate. Grab what supplies you can carry and try to assist any wounded. Set internal timers for fifteen minutes, but be through the gate in ten. I'd rather not take any chances.]
[What about Drift?] Ratchet asked. Ironhide grunted irritably. His instincts were to blame the attack on the defector, but he knew Optimus would not approve. Besides, there was no evidence, which didn't mean some wouldn't eventually turn up. Regardless of what his leader preached, he would never be caught dead placing his full trust in the 'bot. Still, he had to try. He sighed then pinged the ex-Con's communicator..
[Drift! Status report!] he demanded. As if on cue, another of the sleek fighters dropped from the sky, transforming as it fell. It did not land near Ironhide however, instead making impact on the east side of the base.
[I am attempting to get one of the railgun emplacements up and running to cover the evacuation.]
[Any contact from the civilian director?] Ironhide quizzed.
[None. I estimate at least a third of the surviving personnel have evacuated by now. None of the craft appear to be covering the approach to the Stargate.] Drift answered. Ironhide frowned, then grimaced as a missile slammed into the building across from him. He suspected that of the two-hundred and thirty-six personnel stationed at the Alpha Site, at least a full third or more had to be dead or beyond help under the rubble. If Drift was right, that meant nearly one-hundred people were still trying to get to the Stargate, give or take a few bodies. This didn't include the task force itself, which had been composed of thirty people including Sheppard's team, Ratchet, Drift, Optimus and Ironhide himself, not to mention-
A horrible thought gripped the big black Autobot as he dodged out of cover to tag one of the drones as it did a flyby, sending it spinning into a barrel roll before righting itself neatly. The Wraith prisoner was still locked in the brig, and given how resilient he had been told they were compared to humans, likely still alive. He was tempted to let the thought slide away into nothingness, but the creature had been designated part of the plan to track down the source of the Decepticon signal. He doubted Optimus would approve should he ignore the chance to rescue him, even if he was a parasitic predator. He might be able to pretend the alien had been killed in the assault, but while he did not doubt he could lie to Colonel Sheppard, he could not lie to his Prime. Grinding his dentes with irritation, he focused on the comms again.
[Do your best to cover the retreat. If the position becomes untenable, abandon it and move to the Stargate. Grab any supplies you can carry as you go.]
[What will you be doing?] Ratchet asked.
[Rescuing someone I'd rather not.] the weapons specialist replied grimly.
-O-
The hunter wheeled his gunship around for another pass, exhilaration flowing through him. He hadn't had this much fun in dozens of cycles. Casually, he noted that the shrieking human pests who had not yet perished were trying to group together and brave the fire of his drones to reach the planet's Trans-Stellar Ground Bridge. He had encountered such devices on other planets in this galaxy before, and it was likely their sole means of escape. His sensors had detected no signs of an infrastructure to support any kind of spaceflight, which helped support his hypothesis. The question was would the Autobots use it too? He worked his way through a complex network of implications and details while attempting to line up the next shot. The situation was rapidly evolving, and he was struggling to stay abreast of it while tipping the scales in his favor.
The presence of the Autobots, specifically these Autobots in particular, suggested that their leader was somewhere in this galaxy. If the hunter could snare him and deliver him to his present employer, it would make the payday for his originally-intended targets pale in comparison. Idly he instructed two of the surviving drones to target the human survivors. There was no need to let too many of them escape. Plus, it would anger the Autobots, and angry prey were easy to read and predict. The sensors tracking the movements of the disgusting creatures flickered as twelve of their heat signatures winked out under a downpour of destruction.
Allowing himself a small smile of amusement, the hunter refocused again. Based on their association with these humans, given the chance, the Autobots would likely use the Stargate to escape. The fact that his tracker was no longer transmitting suggested they had worked things out fairly quickly. Once they were beyond the portal, he would be unable to follow them. If he had been prone to such unnecessary tics, the hunter would've shaken his head in frustration. It was all too complicated. Best to take what he could get now, and sort out the details later. There would be plenty of time to plan once these three were in the hold. Preferably it would be alive...but dead would do as well.
Without warning, a spray of high-velocity ferromagnetic slugs shot up from one of the previously-defunct defense emplacements. It seemed the humans were not so easily disarmed.. Still, it had taken them far longer to muster any kind of retaliation than even he had thought. He instructed the third drone, already engaging the third, unwounded Autobot, to destroy the emplacement, just as it opened fire on the heavy assault craft. The hunter sneered as the bolts pinged off the vessel's shields, which were far stronger than those of the drones. For a moment, he was tempted to instruct the all the craft to disable their shields, just to improve the odds for his quarry. But then that would be foolish. You never gave your prey a chance. A true hunter always stacked the odds, even if it wasn't very fun.
Smiling grimly, he ordered the assault ship to load its missile tubes with incendiary rockets. The Autobots were clearly working to protect and help the humans as they evacuated. The one defending the gun emplacement from the drone was proof enough of that. If he was any judge, and he was usually a very good one, they would wait until the last moment to escape themselves, that moment being when the last of the humans had fled. Well, there was no reason why he should have to wait for that. He gave the order to fire. The missiles shot out, winding drunkenly through the sky before plunging down on the hapless organics and their defenders. Huge plumes of flame erupted as their impacts sprayed volatile flammable chemicals across the landscape, turning a good chunk of the base into a vision of hell.
-O-
Drift parried a vicious downstroke from the drone's compact hand-axe, which buzzed against his own longsword, blades flashing like arc welders. He took the chance to put a few rounds in with his machine pistol, which the soldier's barrier easily repelled. He checked his mental countdown and noted he had ten minutes left before the Alpha Site was incinerated, presuming it was correct and it wasn't more or less than that. That was the thing about estimation: it was never any comfort.
The drone kicked at Drift, who dodged sideways and swiped at the outstretched leg. The blade did not cut the mindless warrior, but did manage to overbalance it. It fell over backwards, only to propel itself upright again with its shoulder-mounted jets. Drift had been expecting this, and its rising face was quickly met by his metal fist, knocking it back down. Nearby, Cadman was screaming human curse words as she fired at whatever target seemed best. Thankfully the guns were already shielded against strong magnetic fields, given their function, meaning the EMP had done little to truly damage them apart from forcing them into emergency shutdown. They were independently powered too, meaning even with the power plant in flames, they could still fight back.
The shockwave from the impact of the incendiary missiles staggered both combatants. Drift recovered first, and made a vicious thrust at the drone, which glanced off its shield. The drone lunged, trying to tackle him, but he rolled with the attack, causing the machine to crash down atop the concrete roof of the hexagonal bunker surrounding the embedded railgun. As it rose, the weapon swivelled around and fired at point blank into its upper back. The shield flickered, sparked, then popped like a soap bubble. Strong as it was, even it could not withstand such damage. The gun was rated to punch holes in the hulls of Wraith Hive Ships. It had no problem with the drone. The machine screamed, then fell silent as its upper body and head were ripped apart. Its burning form crashed back on the weapon's barrel. Cadman swore and jumped clear. Drift grabbed her and dive-rolled away, the human shrieking in shock as the weapon went up in a fireball. Depositing his charge, who immediately started patting herself down as if expecting to be full of holes Drift looked back at the gun. That plan had lasted all of two minutes. A brief thermal survey informed him there were no survivors in the immediate vicinity. He looked down at Cadman as punched the air.
"Yes! Take that you piece of crap!"
"It's 'piece of scrap'." Drift corrected idly. She looked up at him, baffled.
"What?" The Autobot shook his head as Edgars, who had been taking cover near the gun's targeting array, jogged over, partially covered in soot."
"Jesus, Sergeant are you ok?" Cadman asked, rushing over.
"A little singed, sir." the woman answered, coughing violently. The dust filling the air was getting worse and worse. The smoke from the ruined gun didn't help anything either.
"The fires are spreading." Drift stated, fighting to get an image of the battlefield through the debris and flame. Ironhide's plan was rapidly disintegrating. Drift could not even get a lock on the weapons specialist's location. The heavy assault craft loomed over the destruction, its engines rumbling enough to make Drift's armor resonate in kind. He shook his head.
"Lieutenant Cadman, we must secure the Stargate. I estimate that if the self-destruct has been armed as protocol dictates, we have seven minutes to escape before everything here is destroyed.
"Think we can make it?" asked the redhead, squinting into the distance.
"I do not know." Drift said. Given the devastation being wrought on the Alpha Site, he doubted that many humans were still alive or in any shape to reach the Stargate. Optimus would frown on abandoning them, but he also would probably agree there was no point in their all being vaporized together.
"Have you been able to reach Major Lorne?" Drift asked, crouching as a drone soared overhead, searching for prey, yet apparently ignoring them.
"My last contact with him was just before I hooked up with you. He said he and Doctor Zelenka were making a run for the gate, and they'd try to hold it as long as they could.
"Then we will add our firepower to his."
"Do we have a plan?" Edgars asked.
"My plan is to hold the gate until Ironhide and Ratchet can reach it." Drift said.
"Good plan." the Sergeant said sarcastically.
"There is nothing we can do for any other survivors who might be trapped, not in the time window we have left." Drift stated flatly. Edgars looked like she wanted to protest. So did Cadman Drift didn't blame either of them. He was a pragmatist, but it didn't stop him from smarting at the idea of leaving allies behind to die. Finally Cadman seemed to relent.
"Alright. Fine, let's go. No point in us all blowing up together."
Drift nodded, and hoped he would not live to regret the decision.
-O-
Ironhide reached the Alpha Site brig and was annoyed to discover it was already abandoned. He supposed he couldn't blame them. He was already working against his own self-interest by rescuing this squishy vampire as far as he was concerned. Why should the humans stick around to defend him? Still, it stung his sense of duty to see soldiers desert their posts...or maybe he was reading it the wrong way? Perhaps they'd been ordered to leave Todd behind? It didn't matter to Ironhide. He ran a thermal scan of the interior, indicating the presence of one life-form; his target. The brig itself was squat, rectangular, and little more than a series of cells buried in the ground with an enclosed room above and a set of stairs leading down to them. Not being one for careful extractions, Ironhide grasped the closest handholds he could find and pulled on the structure's northern wall, which featured its main entrance.
Another *BOOM* echoed across the landscape and the combat specialist instinctively ducked. However, when he detected no impact near him, he returned to his task while opening a channel to Ratchet.
[Status report!] he ordered. The gruff tones of the medic came back tinged with pain.
[Still functional. I've located and retrieved as many survivors as I think I'll find within our time window. I'm proceeding back to the gate, but our sniper seems to have picked me out as a favored target.] he explained. Ironhide bellowed with effort as a huge chunk of masonry came free and opened up the interior of the brig, allowing him to see inside. He could see the Wraith in his cell, pressed up against the closest load-bearing wall, and was happy to see the vile parasite was more than a little terrified due to his entrance.
[Just get to the gate. I'll be right behind you. Try to stick to whatever cover is still standing.] he commanded his friend.
"Stand back." he then ordered Todd, causing the Wraith to press himself further into the concrete as the Autobot warrior extended a small, specialized micro-gun designed to fire non-lethal payloads...or at least non-lethal to Cybertronians anyway. He targeted the cell door lock on Todd's cell and tried to steady himself as he aimed through the opening he'd created. He fired, and with a *CLANG*, the round punched through the lock and into the concrete floor, causing the alien contained in the cell to hiss with shock and anger. Ironhide didn't apologize, instead choosing to kick in the brig's main door.
"Come on!" he ordered the captive Wraith, who wasted no time pushing past the ruined barrier that had been keeping him in and struggling up the steps to the entrance, an exercise that would've made Ironhide laugh had they not been in such a hurry. The modified straightjacket holding Todd's arms to his sides made his movement awkward and maintaining his balanced difficult while moving at speed. The Autobot looked over his shoulder warily as his target exited the building. No drones were nearby, but in the distance, the remaining two were converging on the last railgun platform, no doubt to ensure it did not become another threat.
"Now what, machine?" the Wraith asked, staring up Ironhide with a grouchy expression. Ironhide glowered down at the pale creature and briefly wondered if Optimus would really care if he squashed this pest. The obvious answer was 'yes', because Sheppard said they needed him, and Optimus agreed with Sheppard, even if Ironhide generally trusted Lennox more than the Colonel.
"Now we leave. The base is being evacuated." Ironhide stated.
"And you came back for me? Without being ordered?" the Wraith chuckled darkly, "I'm almost touched."
"Don't push it, parasite." the Autobot growled, then transformed into his vehicle mode, throwing open one of the rear passenger doors. "Get in. I can't be bothered to wait for you to keep pace when you're staggering around on those useless legs." he ordered. Todd frowned, but did as he was told. As he closed the door, an explosion from the far side of the complex signalled the end of the last railgun.
[Drift, status report!] Ironhide commanded as he revved his engine and drove towards the gate, skidding around or through any obstacles that presented themselves, much to his passenger's chagrin.
[I have almost reached the Stargate. Stand by.] he replied. The weapons specialist was not amused. Almost as if on cue, one of the drones appeared to take notice of him and circled around to come in behind him, flying low for a strafing run.
[Stargate is secure. Major Lorne is here, and is organizing survivors to carry supplies through as they arrive. Destination has been set for the Athosian settlement where Colonel Sheppard is currently located.] Drift said as massive bullets rattled down like hail, chasing Ironhide as he swerved back and forth to disrupt his pursuer's aim. His passenger hissed, clinging to the seat belt harness, which he had not fastened as his arm restraints would not allow him the freedom of motion to do so. Ironhide took some small pleasure in annoying the Wraith as he hurtled through a patch of burning oil from a nearby machine shop.
[Take up position and assist him. Ratchet and I are inbound. Inform the Major that we must leave as soon as we are able. Presuming the self-destruct is armed, we have approximately five minutes before detonation.]
[Understood.] Drift replied. Ironhide increased his speed and Todd howled with anger. The Autobot ignored him. He'd deal with the creature in the fullness of time. Right now he just had to get off this accursed planet.
-O-
The hunter smiled as the drones destroyed the last of the railguns. It wasn't that they'd posed a threat; it was simply that this whole hunt had already proven to be full of surprises, and he wasn't in the mood for more. He checked his scanner readouts. Human lifesigns were dwindling across the base as the fires lit by his missiles spread. Only a handful of life-signatures remained active outside the vicinity of the Ground Bridge. As a result, the Autobots had begun to congregate around the device. One was already nearby, and another was soon to arrive. Presently he was harassing the third with fire from his sniper rifle in an effort to thwart any attempts to rescue stray humans. He didn't doubt that sooner rather than later, his target would give up and join his brethren.
The hunter frowned as he gazed down the sights of his weapon yet again. He was currently running a great risk, allowing his prey to stand so close to a potential means of escape. It was only by virtue of their blind idealism and refusal to abandon the human vermin that they had not left already. As he cut down another pathetic fleshling, he decided he was not about to push his luck further. He was rather proud of how he'd managed to adapt to the information-sparse scenario he'd dropped into, but that was no excuse for leaving things up to chance when the catch was so close.
The hunter steeled himself. No more fun and games. Now it was time to do the job and get paid.
-O-
Ratchet was, to put it in human terms, very, very sore. So far the sniper hadn't managed to hit him dead on again, but more than a few shots had grazed his armor in his efforts to rescue who and what he could from the demolished structures around him. More than once, bullets he thought were meant for him seemed to miss on purpose and hit the people he was saving, filling him with a deep and visceral rage. It was like the piece of tin was toying with him, like a turbofox with a datamouse. He'd faced his share of sick and twisted Decepticon personalities in his time, but this was was something special.
With the timer having reached critical levels, Ratchet finally gave up on finding anyone else and turned towards the Stargate. As he did, a roar of engines prompted him to look skywards. One of the drones had locked on and was racing towards him, guns blazing. Ratchet, already in vehicle mode, gunned his engines and burned rubber towards the promise of escape. Bullets rained down, most striking the ground around him. Ratchet turned a corner, locking his brakes and drifting around the bend to escape the drone's trajectory, and was astonished to realize that it was already pulling out of its run, screaming skywards and looping around. Before the niggling suspicion in the back of his sub-processors could grow, however, Ratchet noticed the big ship was turning, bringing itself to bear on the Stargate.
[Ironhide, have you reached the Stargate?] the medic asked quickly, accelerating and swerving to deter any more strafing runs.
[I've just arrived. What is it?] the weapons specialist replied. Ratchet tried to keep his tone calm, but it was difficult, given the amount of firepower that was now starting to bear down on his friend's position.
[Get the humans out of here. The big ship-] he began.
[Scrap!] Ironhide cursed, [I see it.]
[We can't fight that kind of firepower, not here and now. Get the humans out before that thing decides to fire more incendiaries. There's no way we can protect them if it tries.]
[Alright, fine. I-AAGHH-] Ironhide's response was cut off with another *BOOM*, and Ratchet's Spark skipped a beat, then another as he realized he couldn't see the gunship anymore.
[Ironhide!] he called desperately.
[SLAG! The son of a glitch snuck up behind us. How-AGHHH!] Another *BOOM*, another scream of pain. Then another familiar voice filled the channel.
[Ratchet, it's Drift. Ironhide is alive, but he's incapacitated. That last shot took off his right arm, cannon and all. The humans are moving out, estimate another thirty seconds before everyone left is through the gate. What do you suggest?] Ratchet increased his speed, red-lining his motors.
[Try to drag Ironhide into cover. If he protests, tell him to stow it, or he answers to me. Try to cover the humans' escape once he's safe. Then drag him through.]
[And you?] Drift asked. Ratchet checked his timer. Three and a half minutes left.
[Don't worry about me. I'm almost ther-] he began.
Out of nowhere, a missile streaked out of the sky and smashed into the ground in front of Ratchet. As he swerved to avoid it, the medic rolled, transforming as he did, the boxes and parcels he'd had those he rescued strap to him or store in him coming free as he transformed, before he crashed into a wall with enough force to crack it down the middle. He groaned, helm ringing, the sound of Drift's voice filling his ears.
[Ratchet? Ratchet? What happened?] Drift demanded, before the dull rumble of thrusters filled the medic's audio receptors.
One of the drones, perhaps the very one that had been chasing him, appeared overhead as Ratchet struggled to his feet, transforming and landing in front of him with an earthshaking thud. Ratchet took aim with his burst-cannon, but it was swatted aside by the drone, which converted its hand into a hooked appendage like the one which had attacked Ironhide had used. It swung this up under Ratchet's breastplate and dragged him forward, swinging him sideways and spinning him around to deposit him on his back. Various scattered packages split open and were crushed as the dazed Autobot came down. The drone pulled its hook free and replaced it with a heavy metal foot, pinning Ratchet. The medic extended his saw and slashed at the limb, but it simply rebounded off the machine's defensive barrier. Already wounded and leaking Energon, Ratchet struggled to find the strength to fight back. As he attacked the underside of the drone's thigh, it brought its foot up and smashed it down on his most prominent injury, where the sniper had first hit him. He screamed with pain and tried to shoot it in the face, which stunned it, causing it to stagger back. Ratchet rolled, took aim and fired again, driving his attacker back. He checked the countdown; two minutes, forty-five seconds. He pushed himself to his knees, and turned in time to see the gunship bearing the sniper rumble into position behind him. The figure behind the massive weapon was dark and faceless. A gleaming black mask covered his features, but he was clearly Cybertronian. Ratchet swore as the long barrel of the rifle retracted and seemed to split, reshaping itself into a new weapon.
[Ratchet!] shouted Drift over the link. The Autobot medic grinned weakly.
[Go.] he ordered. Then a series of charges fired around the barrel of the newly transformed weapon. A web of cables attached to small spiked spheres flew out, wrapping around Ratchet like barbed wire. A jolt of agony coursed through his processors, and he collapsed, senseless to the dirt.
-O-
The hunter chuckled beneath his helm, then directed the drones to transport the prisoner to the heavy assault ship, before instructing the gunship's systems to take him to the rest of his prey. The hunt was almost finished.
"One down…" he muttered to himself.
-O-
Drift saw the gunship swing low over the smouldering complex. As the medic's final order croaked through the comms, he knew it was too late. The timer had hit one minute and fifty seconds. Behind him Lorne stood by the active Stargate.
"Let's go!" the human shouted, barely audible over the din. Drift watched, frozen in horror as the two remaining drones rose from the rubble, a large, misshapen package held between them by two cables.
"RATCHET!" Ironhide roared as the pair of murderous machines hooked up with the heavy assault craft, which opened a section of its hull to allow the drones to drop their cargo into its bulk. Drift felt a hollow space open in his Spark as the package vanished into the monstrosity. How would he explain this to Optimus? How could he tell his leader that one of his oldest friends was no in enemy hands? No sooner had the supporting wires been cut, the craft that had been carrying the captive medic swung around and came screaming towards the gate.
"NOW!" Lorne bellowed. Behind him, the last few human soldiers that had been hanging on taking potshots with their puny weapons dove through the gate. One minute and fourteen seconds. Drift's survival instincts were strong, and Ratchet's final order still resonated in his helm, quickly drowning out the cacophony of self-loathing and defeat that had briefly gripped him. There was nothing to be done. The gunship roared towards them, outpacing the drones, which took up positions at either side. Drift wrapped his arms around Ironhide, who was lying on his back, half propped up by the stump of one of his right arm while firing with the other spitting curses and insults at the oncoming attackers. The weapons specialist whipped his gaze away to stare in shock at Drift as he was dragged bodily towards the gate. Then he tried to struggle.
"LET GO!" he roared, before breaking into a bout of violent coughing. Glowing blue Energon emerged from his metal lips like blood, mixed with a slurry of lubricants. Drift ignored his demand and kept pulling. The old soldier was too injured to make much of a fight out of it, but his optics glared daggers, switching back and forth between the approaching ships and his unwanted savior. Drift didn't blame him. Behind them, Lorne gave them both a panicky look, before glancing up at the ships.
"COME ON!" he screamed as the two Autobots drew nearer and nearer, though nowhere near as fast as the gunship or its drones. Forty seconds left. As he drew in reach of the Stargate, Drift turned and looked over his shoulder at Lorne.
"GO!" he commanded. Lorne looked affronted, but then their eyes met for an instant, and the invisible plea passed between man and machine like electricity. Drift didn't particularly like or dislike most humans, but right now he had no desire to make things worse than they already were. Lorne was a vital component of Sheppard's command, and Sheppard was Optimus' ally. Ratchet and those that had already died were already weights on Drift's Spark. He didn't need anymore. Nodding, then giving one more glance towards the ships, Lorne stepped backwards through the gate, just as Drift put his foot down five meters from the event horizon. Twenty-six seconds left.
"LET ME GO YOU DAMNED TRAI-" Ironhide screamed, but was cut off as Drift swung his weight and heaved the angry old soldier through the shimmering portal, with some minor clangs as his angular body glanced off the inner edges of the ring in some places. Drift transformed, shifting to vehicle mode in the space of a few seconds as rounds began to rain down around him. The sound of the drones transforming filled his ears as he gunned his engine, throwing himself towards the Stargate as the mental countdown hit six seconds, and he wondered briefly whether or not his estimate might be off...
-O-
The hunter snarled as the most wounded member of his trio of targets was flung into the flickering liquid-like surface of the Ground Bridge's event horizon. So much for a perfect score. Still, it wasn't too late to get two out of three. He brought his sights to rest on the hood of his remaining target's vehicle form. As his finger tightened on the trigger, his helm suddenly flickered, as if in reaction to either a sudden bright light or an enormous electromagnetic surge-
-O-
The Alpha Site's self-destruct was rated for a twenty-kiloton yield with minimal fallout afterwards, more than enough to incinerate ninety-six percent of the complex with no remains. As it triggered, plutonium atoms in the machine's core were crushed by the controlled detonation of a high-explosive shell, squeezed until they split and released the untold energy within. A ball of atomic fire burst into existence three stories under the ruins of the main structure, obliterating it and everything within. In an instant, air was sucked inwards and upwards, drawing smoke and dust into a terrible testament to mankind's contribution to the absurd. The shockwave swatted the heavy assault ship like a fly, sending it spinning through the sky...but not out of control. The shields held against the onslaught, protecting its precious cargo, even as it plowed into the ground on the far side of a stony ridge, nearly three miles from the blast.
The gunship was less fortunate. While it easily outlasted the drones, its shields could not entirely protect it. The explosion catapulted the smaller ship over the same ridge as its bigger brother, where it smashed into the ground, rolling and shaking, VTOL engines tearing free and exploding before the main chassis slid to a stop in a field of scorched flowers. Behind and above, the mushroom cloud rose over all, blanketing the crater where the Alpha Site had been in a radioactive shadow. The Stargate was the last thing to come to rest, plummeting from the heavens to impact against the stone ridge, smoking, but undamaged.
-O-
For a long time, nothing except the fire and the growing pall of the death-cloud moved in the place where the Alpha Site had been. Then, with an angry snarl and a clang of metal, the hunter emerged from the smoking wreck of the gunship. He stared up at the rising brown mass of dust and smoke, before his face twisted into a cold smile. He laughed, voice cruel and gravelly in the scorched silence of the newborn nuclear wasteland. Then he began his march to the crash site of the other ship. True, he was still angry he'd let those other two slip away, but so long as he had something to show for this, it'd be well worth it.
And who knew? Perhaps once his employer was through with his catch, he'd have enough to go on to make tracking down the rest all the more easy. He smiled at that thought, the idea making the pain of his wounds that much less severe. He sneered up at the rising cloud. Sooner or later, their luck would run out, and when it did, he'd be there to remind them why Lockdown was a name to be feared by all with a price on their heads.
"Enjoy your freedom while it lasts." he muttered, "This hunt is just getting started."
o
A/N: So this is one of my longest chapter so far, and to be honest, one of the ones I'm least confident in. Battle scenes are fun to imagine, but can be such a pain to write. I won't spoil what happens next, but I will say that this won't be the last time we see Lockdown. For now though, we'll be going back to Sheppard and Co. mostly, Things just went very, very wrong for them, so let's see how they deal with that.