Ok this is actually starting to get ridiculous, not counting the days I didn't work on chapter 27 because of a very busy and draining weekend, I managed to crank out the next chapter in five days, not as quick as the manic one day I wrote all of 26 in, but still, I haven't ever managed to crank out this much before and it's starting to scare me.
Oh well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, on with this next chapter! Some new faces are being introduced in this one, I hope you like them!
He was brought back up onto the deck to help.
What little help he could provide he gave as the ship turned and came back around to where the three overboard Harpies were.
The twins had spread their wings out wide, using the massive surface area to try and keep themselves from sinking into the Atlantic.
Ira was clinging as best as she could to their back, having thrown her wings over the larger femmes shoulder plating, her own wings apparently not being built to provide enough surface area to keep herself up in water, though that wasn't saying Aria and Wren's were any more suited, they just had the larger surface area.
Soon enough he and Kia were almost hanging half on and half over the edge of the decking, his arms weren't long enough to reach the waves, but Kia's wings were.
They managed to haul Ira back onto the deck first, Kia had managed to snag one of Ira's wing struts with the hooked plating that existed over the last joint, her light weight being a blessing as he found it hardly a task to pull the Harpy back onto the deck, where she quickly went to stand, a rivers worth of water came flowing out from seemingly every part of her frame.
In an interesting twist, the sea water was washing away the mess already made of the wooden decking.
The twins were more difficult
The moment they reached out a wing to snag Kia, they lost their buoyancy and sank beneath the waves.
With each one they re-directed themselves, spreading their wings back up and beating them down to break the surface again with a spluttering gasp.
Kia and Ira were already starting to chitter and warble, Kia was becoming anxious, he could feel it in the EM field that now bled off her from where she was precariously balanced on the edge.
And then, an idea seemed to come to the Bateleur and she flared her protrusions in a string of different positions.
A few moments later, the twins lurched their frame up with one strong beat.
And bit down onto Kia's right wing.
The Bateleur hissed but began to pull.
Once the twins were in reach, he grabbed them by the black plating that encircled their neck cables.
After one strong pull, the twins were scrambling back onto the deck, hacking and coughing as sea water was expelled from their frame and their large wings spread out to support them, one of them banging against his own pede as he moved back to rest upon them.
Ratchet was already running a hasty scan over Ira, who was muttering under her vents, her frame beginning to shake.
He kept his attention on the twins, as with a final strained cough, banged the side of their helm into the decking with a groan.
Only to lurch said helm back again with a hiss.
They'd hit the damaged protrusion.
After a moment of running a quick analysis of the four Harpies condition, he rolled further back on his pedes to lean against the upper balcony, letting off a small sigh of relief.
That could of gone far worse if the twins hadn't had the forethought to use their wings as giant paddles.
"Ah'm sorry."
Jolting out of his short stupor, he looked to Ira, she had curled in on herself, looking at her own pedes as sea water continued to flow off her frame and trickle off her feathers like rain drops.
He watched as Kia and the twins exchanged a look before Aria spoke. "You got excited, there's nothing wrong with that Ira."
The twins were getting up themselves now, and turning to face Ira themselves.
Without any kind of warning, the entire deck, himself, Ira, Kia, and all those on the upper balcony, where hit by the full force of sea water being ejected from the Harpy Eagle femmes as they shook seemingly every part of their frame hard enough to becoming a blur of black and white.
It stopped almost as quickly as it started, finishing with a few last helm shakes before they chuckled at the absolutely scandalised looks from both Kia and Ira.
There was a chorus of complaints from the balcony as the humans tried to get the sea water out of their faces and mouths.
"There, consider that us paying you back for tackling us into the North Atlantic." Wren remarked, but they turned to regard the rest of those gathered, himself included. "Sorry about that, not exactly easy to aim."
With that quick apology out of the way, Wren gestured to her newly healed pede. "How about we see what this frame can really do?"
Their answer came in the form of Ira leaping into the air and taking wing, quickly followed by Kia.
He could see the smile on the Monochrom femmes features as they spread their own wings and crouched, building up tension in preparation for launch.
The Gilded Falcon rocked against the force of the waves at the moment of launch, and soon enough, all four Harpies were slipping into the clouds.
Letting off a slow vent he looked towards the already setting sun, it's colours lighting up the horizon in a thousand different shades of colour. Another eventful day would soon come to an end.
High, high above the Gilded Falcon, Aria let off an elated whoop, her and Wren beating their wings to send them rocketing up through a cloud bank.
Yes flying in storms was great, but the noise always made it impossible to hear anything outside the crack of thunder and the persistent hammering of rain and hail.
Now, there was no such noise, and the speakers built into their back struts pounded as they performed their own little aerial acrobatics, flaring their wings to slow their rise until that moment when they hung motionless in the air, before gravity remembered they existed and began pulling them back down to Earth.
They pulled up into a wide banking turn, and lined up with where Ira was hovering in place, a fun little trick Scavengers such as Red Kites could pull of.
With all the care such a maneuver allowed, they flipped into a vertical position and clipped Ira's left shoulder guard with Wren's back talon.
It was a glancing blow, but all that was needed to state a Challenge.
Soon enough they were racing through the clouds, chasing each other.
The twins were at a disadvantage, their wide broad wings were built for quick, fast paced flights through dense rain forests, meant for swerving to avoid crashing into tree trunks.
Up in the clouds, there was no such need, and Ira, being a Red Kite, was far better built for making use of the thermal vents that rose up from the ocean.
That being said, Aria and Wren certainly didn't make it easy on the smaller Harpy, and with Kia as witness, gave the Red Kite quite the challenge to snag with her own talons.
Finally though, Ira found her moment, climbing high, far higher than either the twins or Kia would, and hovered for a moment, before diving.
Soon enough, she'd snagged the twins back, and with an overdramatic Harpy Eagle cry, they admitted defeat and leveled out.
The four re-grouped, all but Kia being somewhat out of breath after their little game of cat and mouse.
"So… what now?"
The twins and Ira looked to Kia, their expressions and protrusions showing their confusion at the question.
Kia was quick to elaborate. "With Wren's foot fixed, we could fly ahead, make sure everything is ready for the bots, we already planned to have guides to take the bots to the warehouses, and I know for a fact none of us like the idea of being towed in a trailer, if we time it right, we can all arrive at our homes once the sun's down."
A moment of thought went between those gathered.
Ira spoke first. "Ah go' tha fathes' tah fly, I'll stick with tha ship till we get to the Mediterranean, and I'll fly ahead from there."
Kia and the twins nodded in understanding, Kia speaking next. "My final destination is the closest, I can head off first."
Wren spoke then. "We're not built for long flights, none of us are, if your flights to the Amazon all that time ago are anything to go by, I suggest we stay with the ship for at least one more day before you head off Kia, and from there, it will be a matter of when the wind and timing is right."
They seemed to all agree to the plan for going forwards, and the conversation shifted as they re-oriented themselves to fly in a reverse 'V' formation, the twins taking the lead, and Kia and Ira riding on the air currents the largest Harpies created.
The Gilded Falcon was already a good way ahead of them as a result of the previous chase, it was best to catch back up.
For a while, no one talked, and then, Ira piped up. "Are we eva gonna tell 'em?"
Kia glanced over. "Tell them what?"
Ira returned the look like her statement had been far more obvious in it's meaning. "Ah mean, are we eva gonna tell 'em tha' they were ah kids cartoon, an' bloc'busta film bac' home?"
Kia went to answer, but Wren beat her to it. "No. We have created a narrative, where we are completely clueless to the Cybertronian race, to their war, to their abilities, and that we certainly have no understanding of what is to come. We did this to protect ourselves, and to prevent any more scrutiny than we are already under by our actions. We have already been over this Ira, they can't know."
Ira bared her denta for a moment, but conceded. "Fair… think you'll be able to lan' unassisted?"
The twins accepted the topic change and Aria answered. "Even if something goes wrong, I should be able to take most of the weight."
Kia was the one to break the silence next. "What's the plan for the Matrix?"
If the twins were surprised by the question, they didn't show it, and instead let off a small sigh before Aria answered. "We're not certain… after how the Allspark reacted to you Kia…"
"You're scared?" Ira asked, beating her wings that bit further to catch up, though stayed in the twins air currents.
"We're not found of its implications."
Kia huffed. "Neither was I, though being able to put you all back together does have its merits."
The twins shook their helm. "We don't mean it's powers, Kia, you carry an ancient relic synonymous with life, for all purposes it's merged with your very soul… don't you get what that means?"
"Not quite catching on here, go ahead, enlighten us." Kia replied.
"For all intensive purposes, you're likely immortal."
Kia stopped her motion for a moment, before righting herself into a hover.
Ira was able to bank quickly to regard the Bateleur, the twins took a few more moments to do the same.
Ira glanced between the three larger Harpies before speaking. "Kia?"
Wren wasn't done laying down the facts. "Just being Cybertronian, in part, has made the possibility of a very, very long life inevitable, but with the Allspark inside you, well, I can't speak for the Grim Reaper, but it's safe to say you might no longer be on the list at all…"
Kia seemed to let that all process through her before taking a long shuddering vent. "My whole familia… I know mama made me swear to keep Fernando alive until she passed… but… if we go back… I wanted kids… not now… later… when the Triage was more… when home was healing… fuck I wish Ivan was here."
She didn't dare look at Ira when she said that, keeping her gaze on the twins, who were sending looks of sympathy to both.
It wasn't a secret the twins had long agreed not to personally carry on their bloodline…
"If Ivan was here he would of tried shooting the Allspark." Wren remarked.
"At least twice, three if the first attempt didn't kill him and the second was as ineffective." Aria added, trying to lighten the mood.
It did work, as Kia felt something in her drop, she opted to ignore the twins attempt to use her statement to draw the conversation elsewhere. "And if… if you accept the Matrix… you'll be effectively immortal too… you'll outlive your little brother… you'll outlive the family he wanted you to help him raise when the time came… oh hell."
The twins just nodded.
Ira spoke then. "When… when we go bac'… will, will we still be li'e this? Still… gian' freaks? Cause ah was hopin' we'd be human again…"
If they weren't currently occupied not dropping out of the sky, the twins would of shrugged as Aria answered. "We don't know what's going to happen anymore than you do Ira, it's all speculation… but there are facts, and one of them, is, for all we know, Cybertronians don't really die of old age… and even if they do… it takes a lot longer than a single human lifespan."
Kia kept going. "But if the relics… make us immortal?"
"We'll be forced to watch the Universe move on without us, Earth will eventually be devoured by the sun, humanity will die off and be eventually replaced with something else, hell, we might outlive all of the bots… we'd be… we'd be left to watch on forever… time will stretch to a point where a single day will have no consequence to us, then a year, then a lightyear, the passing of time no longer relevant to our constant existence." Wren answered, her tone filled with nothing but a looming dread.
Ira felt the shudder run down her frame and right to the end of her wedged tail feathers before she spoke. "How abou' we drop this dreary topic an' focus on how we're suppose' tah even ge' home."
Kia spoke then. "When the Allspark was… merging with me, I heard voices… couldn't tell one from another, but there were lots, they kept chanting about slag like how 'You have to find them all' 'You have to find them' 'You are the chosen'. The last one in particular is just… well, ridiculous! Why, in the nine circles of hell would we be picked for this?!"
Ira replied. "Well wha'eva tha reasonin', we were picked, an' ah doub' i' was random luck i' was us an' only us four."
"Don't forget Fernando." Aria piped up.
Kia scowled. "I don't like any of this… let's get back to the ship, we can discuss this more later."
There were no arguments there, and soon enough, each Harpy was touching back down onto the deck.
Ira and Kia watched like the birds of prey their frames were now built like as the twins landed with a few extra strong beats to slow their descent.
Sure enough, Wren led, her talons meeting the decking, not a single groan leaving the metal as Aria's followed soon after and they tucked their wings up against their sides.
At some point, Optimus had slipped back down to beneath the decking, giving the three the room to settle down and focus on their holoforms.
Kia glanced to where Aria's holoform came on and after a moment had her own holoform make a quick clothing change. "Aria, the gym still in the same place?"
The white themed twin looked to her in surprise at the question before the sports gear Kia was now wearing clicked. "Yeah? It is?"
Kia smirked. "You, me, boxing ring, it's about time we settle the score after that mess in Montenegro."
A blind man could of seen the sudden flame of competitive drive that burst into life behind the white twins sunglasses as she smirked. "Oooooh~ You're on. Race you to the ring! Loser has to clean up!"
The White twin was already bolting for the doorway that lead into the ship before she even finished shouting the terms, her own holoform shifting out of it's previous attire into suitable sports attire.
Wren and Ira watched as the two sprinted out of sight, Kia crying foul at Aria's head start.
Ira snorted as she glanced at Wren. "Neva ah quie' day aroun' here, huh?"
Wren raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.
Monaco
The room he was being kept in was barren, an office table, and two chairs, one on either side.
He was handcuffed to the one bolted to the floor.
The table was also bolted to the floor.
The other chair wasn't, he'd kicked it, and after having dropped from exhaustion, he'd woken to find the chair had been righted, though it had been moved just out of reach of his foot.
Honestly it was just taunting him now.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been here.
But he knew for a fact he was both in desperate need of a bathroom, and something to eat and or drink.
His stomach twisted again at the thought, feeling like a painful knot being wound even tighter.
And then the door opened.
The door was behind him, and he didn't bother to look over his shoulder.
A plate was dropped in front of him and the figure took the other seat and sat in it.
Jamerson scowled and looked to the plate in front of them, ham sandwiches, shop bought.
He didn't bother even look at them again, he could only guess what they might of put in it…
"It's not poisoned, you really think we'd waste a good sandwich on someone we planned to kill?" The woman spoke, accent a thick Russian twang.
He snorted and refused to even give the sandwich another look.
The woman seemed to sigh. "Stubborn American… Eat, the Orichiono's want you alive long enough to see you. And I doubt you want them to order a bypass straight into your stomach."
He would take it to his grave that statement sent a bolt of fear down his spine.
The woman got up and left, though he could hear people speaking just passed the door.
Again he reached around to look over the handcuff keeping him in place, no visible lock, and the ratcheting mechanism was locked away within the hard metal shell the connected both ends of the cuffs.
Remote controlled was his assessment, and certainly not something he could pick with a sandwich.
The door opened again, someone else came in.
He didn't bother to look, not even as the back of the other chair was grabbed, spun, and the new person sat spread eagle on the now backwards chair.
"I do not envy you Jungle boy."
That, got him to look up.
And a sense of fury he hadn't felt since the dam rose in him like bile.
Flint.
Flint was the man sitting opposite to him with a bored and put off expression on his features.
The expression just made him angrier, and before he even bothered to think of it, pulled back, lurched forwards, and spat directly at the other mans face.
Only for Flint to dodge it with a simple sway to the side before moving back into his previous position, expression unchanged.
But, he spoke again. "Temper, temper Jungle boy, you'd better loose it before the Orichiono's get here… How's the hand by the way? Keeley really was pissed you just went and shot Aria in the ear like that."
Jolted by the sudden faux show of concern, he looked to his free hand, still wrapped up in a thick bandage, apparently too thick to put a handcuff on, it had long stopped bleeding, but he could still vividly remember the pain of having Keeley trying to tear his hand to ribbons with her talons, even now it felt like agony.
He scowled. "How do you think it is?" He snapped.
And Flint clapped. "The man does speak! My! Here I was thinking they'd already cut your tongue out!" He proceeded to chuckle at his own far from funny joke with a shake of his head.
Jamerson wasn't sure if you could hate a person anymore than he hated Flint in that moment. "You're a traitor." He spat.
Flint immediately sobered, his humour drying up faster than a dog bowl of water in the Gobi Desert. "Oh wow… the hypocrisy… says the man who handed over access of all of the Pentagon, and by proxy, America's military and defenses, to the Harpies. And for the record, Jungle Boy, I'm no traitor, I'm not even American." Flint replied, though that smug smirk had returned.
He stalled, eyes widening for a moment before narrowing. "Then you're a spy."
"Was, was a spy, I've been put back in my original position." He shook his head. "I'm here because I thought a more familiar face would be able to hammer something important into that thick skull of yours."
He just scowled. Flint shrugged, but his expression and body language were deadly serious. "You're a dead man walking. You didn't just piss off a Harpy, you shot a Harpy, through the ear, I can only imagine how many are gunning for your head right now. But do you know what's funny about all of this?"
He kept scowling, Flint was going to keep going, it was in the spies nature.
Flint seemed to pick up on that, and decided not to beat around the bush. "Aria sent out an order, you're to be kept alive, at least, until they've seen you. To quote them. 'We'd rather not have a chat with a corpse.' They want you alive, hell if I know why, but what I do know is this." He leaned over the table slightly, elbows resting on the edge and chin resting on the bridge of his interlocked fingers. "You will not be leaving this room as the same man who was dragged in here under the influence of a horse tranquiliser."
He rose, and strode back to the door, opening it and went to walk through, but seemed to pause.
Jamerson kept his attention facing forwards.
Flint spoke again. "I know I wasn't born with the name Flint. And I sure as hell didn't come into this room with that name, but here I am, looking at you, in the same spot I was in..."
Scottish Highlands - Triage Earth
The stone and thatch cottage was run down, the wall paper faded, one of the glass windows broken, letting in a draft, outside, the wind howled lack a pack of starved dogs, crashing against the loose stones of the building before rushing onwards.
The lone rocking chair creaked as it rolled slowly back, and then just as slowly forwards again.
Sitting in the chair was a young man, thin and frail, the clothes he wore too big for his frame, though once they had fit him perfectly, tailor made for him and him alone, now, they were tattered at the edges, and barely clinging on.
In his lap, a vibrant Peacock, the bird curled up in it's masters lap, letting off quiet little sounds as it was carefully stroked, it's tail feathers once shimmering and elegant were now tattered and broken, not one left it's true length.
Next to the rocking chair, the half rotted and skeletal remains of the last person to sit there, shoved off and onto the floor by the current occupant, their clothes threadbear and damp with mildew.
A sound came from outside, both the head of the man and the Peacock jolted up, tense and ready to spring into action.
The hand gun in the man's pocket was a constant presence.
Three knocks to the front door and a curse foul enough to make a sailor pale and their tense bodies eased.
The man who stepped in after the lock on the door was undone was everything the one in the rocking chair wasn't, built like a tank, a physical representation of pure masculinity, aged by a lifetime of near death experiences, bloody combat, and most recently, two years of fruitless searching.
The younger man looked the larger one over. "Any word?"
The larger man shook his head, dropping the heavy sack he'd been carrying on his back onto the floor, the bottom already stained red. "Just another would be assassin, they're closing in, we need to keep heading North."
"Much further and we're going to need a boat." The younger man remarked, shuddering as another gust of wind came through the broken window. "Epsilon isn't built for these conditions."
The peacock seemed to agree with the statement, trying to bury itself deeper into the loose fitting clothes of his master.
The older man sighed and shook his head. "Only madmen think they are… don't you own a castle somewhere around here?"
"We own Edinburgh castle."
"Ah… right… we missed that." The older man conceded, kicking the bag of would be assassin. "We're not going to find your sisters sitting around like idiots… We need to figure out where to look next."
The younger man sighed. "There's checks at every land border looking for me, and you… we've searched every damn mile of this island and found nothing of them…"
The older man sighed and walked over, placing a hand on the younger mans shoulder. "We will find them, we'll find all of the Harpies… I swore on my life I would defend the Estrada lineage, and I don't intend to fail that vow any more than I already have."
The younger man just sighed and nodded. "I know Ivan… I know… and whoever took them, they will pay for this…"
Epsilon gave a caw of agreement and got up to jump down to the floor, the large bird was the only one he had left of his beloved pets, his vibrant colours had on occasion given them away, thankfully Epsilon was a smart bird, and they'd managed to train him to follow them from a safe distance, mostly ducking around hedgerows and through fields whilst they took the roads when they could.
Epsilon was also the only thing of home he had left. The only one he'd managed to grab during that first attempt on his life.
Since that incident nearly two years ago, he'd been on the run.
Six months later, Ivan had found him, the chief bodyguard of the Estrada family had promptly put him under his watch, and they'd been searching ever since.
So far, not a single trace.
The Triage had risen after the disappearance of its leaders, and the power struggle that continued even now was pitting private army against private army all across the world.
Like Earth didn't have enough problems, he thought bitterly.
But the ultimate prize was him conceding his powers to whoever held a knife to his throat.
Something he would never do.
He wasn't a fighter, his sisters had always stood between him and anyone who had ever wished them harm.
All had fallen either under their thumb, or to the floor, their heads no longer upon their shoulders.
But with them gone, and with Ira and Kia both missing as well, his sisters part of the Triage fell to him.
Ira's part had fallen to complete disarray, the smallest in number but arguably the most disruptive.
The less said about the mess that was the multi sided war that was going on inside Kia's part, the better.
He'd been forced to flee when he realised just how little control of the situation he had.
And now he lived in constant motion and self exile, trying to keep ahead of those who wanted him either dead or at their mercy.
Once again he felt the weight of the world falling heavy upon his shoulders… how had they done it he wondered? His sisters had carried this weight with a determination unrivaled by any force in the world… and the moment they were gone, he crumbled under the force of it all coming down on him.
He felt like crumbling now… but he had to keep going… he had to find his sisters.
Ivan patted his shoulder again. "We'll find them Derrick, we'll find them… somehow. C'mon, it's time to eat."
All he could do was sag into the rocking chair and mutter. "I'm not eating a man."
Ivan just snorted, they'd argued about food for months. "The twins will kill me if you starve to death, and you know a death by their hands is permanent."
He could read the implications, he knew that Ivan had courted death herself many a time through his life, and he knew just how frequently death had been in close proximity to his sisters throughout his life, and before he was introduced to them.
When someone died at his sister's hands, there was no miracle return, no doctor brilliant enough to turn back the clock.
Be it poison, a sword, a gun, or, he shuddered, a fireplace, no one who'd ever earned his sisters ire, had returned from their death.
He knew he had no reason to fear them, he knew they would never dare harm a hair on his head, he was the only family besides themselves they had, and he knew they would face the universe head on to protect him.
But with them gone, with him now the only one of his family lineage left, oh the down sides to the last few generations being fucking mental, he wasn't sure what to do.
"I know Ivan… I know…"
He missed his sisters, a piece of him had been torn away, and the feeling of dread, the feeling that he'd never see them again? It haunted what few dreams he had, and was a constant in his nightmares.
He could only pray that they'd find one of the Harpies soon, bring some sense back to this madness.
But who was to listen to his prayers when the Gods rotted on their golden thrones?
Hoo... welp, hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter! You all have a good one!
And please, let me know what you think, I sustain myself off your comments.
Moon
