Chapter Two
"Scrap! I just told Whirl to knock this stuff off!" Bumblebee snarled as he ran down the hallway to the cargo bay. The light fixtures above brightened in intensity, giving perfect clarity to every detail in the ship, eradicating shadows in which danger might be able to hide. The warning klaxon continued to howl in what felt like perfect syncopation to the sound of his footsteps. Bee did not wait to see who else was coming with him as he tore away from the open door to Cyclonus and Tailgate's quarters – the only thing that mattered was the anger boiling the energon in his lines and the fear digging into the back of his brain module.
"What's going on?!" Tailgate asked in a panic, leaping from his chair. Cyclonus turned to the open doorway, taking up the great sword in his right hand.
"Stay here," the horned warrior brusquely ordered, backing up his authority with a quick, sharp glance at his smaller companion.
"I'm coming with you!" Tailgate protested, the lenses of his optic plating tilting inward into the center, giving the impression of a frown. He would not back down; his posture stiffened and his transformation plates locked down in defiant resolve.
Cyclonus would have none of it. "You are staying," he repeated in a harsh hiss as he quickly darted through the open archway, slamming his fist against the key panel; the controls shattered and sizzled, locking mechanisms automatically engaged. He did not wait to listen to Tailgate's muffled cries or the dull sound of tiny hands banging against the blast-shielded doors.
…..
"hi *zzt* guys. Sixshot wanted to -*khhhckt*- come out and play."
Bumblebee crouched into a ready position just inside the cargo bay doors, his right hand shifting into a standard blaster. It wasn't going to be much good against the sort of armor he'd heard Sixshot was equipped with, but he figured that if Optimus Prime had been able to trade punches with the multichanger and come out on top, maybe he might stand a chance.
Or he could die a horrible, agonizing, slow death.
At least the waiting was over.
One half of Whirl's body clattered to the floor to the left of the doorway, hitting the solid base paneling with the noise of a dozen dropped iron pipes. The other half landed in front of Bumblebee and Cyclonus with a much heavier, scraping thud.
"so I said, 'you wanna piece of me', and he goes 'no, I want two'. I think he saw that movie too," Whirl managed to quip, vocoder garbled, damage obvious from the fingerprints dented into his narrow neck, pushing himself up with his arms.
"Nuts and bolts what did you DO Whirl?!" Bumblebee incredulously demanded, staring down at the still mobile section of ex-Wrecker in front of him.
"oh sure, blame it all on me," Whirl weakly retorted.
Cyclonus came to a quick stop just behind Bumblebee, eyes fixed on the towering Decepticon in the center of the cargo bay after a quick sweep of his surroundings.
"Suggestions?" Bee asked quickly.
Cyclonus' optics narrowed. "Dump the cargo hold."
"What?! But Whirl's still in-"
"Dump it," Cyclonus insisted over his commander's disbelieving protests. "We've done this before. Dump the hold and detonate it. We can save the rest of the crew, and you'll be giving Whirl what he's wanted all along."
Sixshot's low, icy chuckle rumbled beneath the continued alarm. The massive aqua, violet and white multichanger folded his arms, his expression hidden beneath his faceplate. "Callous, but effective. I like this one – a warrior does what is necessary to win." Spreading his hands, Sixshot canted his head downward and took one step forward, crimson visor brightening as his systems charged up in anticipation of battle. "If this," he said, glancing at Whirl's energon-soaked upper half before returning his gaze to Bumblebee, "is the best fighter you have to offer, I would suggest you take your elder's advice, protoform. I'll even give you the opportunity to carry out your plan with no interference."
Bee's face pulled into a scowl. It wasn't a decision he wanted to make. Much as Whirl could be a pain in the tailpipe, he was still one of them. He opened his mouth in preparation to answer, but the sound of other bots gathering behind him took the order off his glossa.
Ultra Magnus charged past Bumblebee and Cyclonus, leaping over them, over Whirl, fist swinging for Sixshot's head. "First Aid! Get Whirl to safety!"
"I'm on it!" the medic shouted from behind, Bee and Cyclonus parting like the Red Sea to let First Aid get to Whirl. Sixshot's head snapped to the right from the force of Magnus' blow.
Cyclonus cursed under his breath, running forward to assist Ultra Magnus, buying time for First Aid's rescue attempt. Gripping the hilt of his blade in both hands, he pulled it back and to his right side.. The crystalline fixture near the hilt of the sword began to glow.
"So much for that plan," the yellow and black scout muttered, dropping down to help First Aid, who was pulling Whirl's body into the hallway.
"ha...!" Whirl rasped. " … knew you'd do the... the moral option." The light of his optic was beginning to dim.
"Help me get him to the medical bay or we're going to lose him!" First Aid shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of metal smashing into metal behind him. Bumblebee draped Whirl's arm over his shoulder; the ex-Wrecker was still taller than both of them even when bisected at the waist. They worked in tandem, trying to hurry down the hallway, half running, half dragging, fighting against time to save their comrade. Bumblebee's thoughts kept racing back to the sound of battle behind him – he had to be there, they needed him. There wouldn't be any reason to save Whirl's life just to have all of them die shortly after at Sixshot's hands.
The two slid Whirl onto the medical slab and First Aid went to work attaching a nucleon feed, grabbing up clamps and tools to staunch the leaking and stabilize the dying rotorcraft. Bee fidgeted across the slab from First Aid, looking to the doorway, then back to the medical officer, pacing and bouncing on his toes like a frantic dog pulling at his chain.
"Hold this." First Aid extended a clamped energon line towards the other Autobot, not looking up, focused intently on the patient beneath him. Bee took the line and frowned at it. He wanted to be released from nurse duty, immediately, he was the commander and it was his job to get back into the fight. Millions of years of being a scout and facing combat head on left him with a Pavlovian impulse to draw weapons and charge at the sound of clashing fists and guns.
Anxiety was getting to him. "I gotta get out there!" he protested, taking another tool and damaged component handed to him.
"I only need you a nanocycle longer," First Aid calmly replied, drowning out the noise and chaos around him with the task at hand.
"We may not have that long!" Bee shouted.
"Where's Tailgate?" First Aid calmly rebuffed, refocusing Bumblebee's attentions away from the battle.
"What?"
"Tailgate. Cyclonus and Ultra Magnus went to stop Sixshot but Tailgate's missing," First Aid answered, arms deep in Whirl's torso, forearms glossy with mechanical gore. "I've tried to contact him on his personal frequency and I'm not getting anything."
Bee's lenses irised open and his fidgeting stopped. It wasn't instantly clear to him what that meant, but he was certain it wasn't good.
…...
Tailgate could hear the sounds of fighting and shouting through the thick alloy of the locked blast doors. He cursed and slammed his fist into the bulkhead once more. He knew what had just happened. He knew why Cyclonus had locked him inside.
"No!" he shouted, shaking his head to refuse the fate that was being handed down to him. "No, you saved my life, you are not going to die before I get a chance to return the favor!" His eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything to get that door open, and then remembrance struck him: He'd dealt with this before. He thought that his time as a waste disposal unit, fourth class, was, well, a waste. Suddenly that time being a nobody was about to pay off.
Dragging his chair over to the wall he jumped up on it, and pulled the inside panel of the door control off. He'd been in places where the doors stuck, leaving him trapped in tunnels miles below the surface. A will to survive had taught him how to make good on his escape.
Small fingers pulled and twisted wires, overloading the computerized locking mechanism; it was a fail-safe in case of disaster, in case someone were to become stuck inside. Or get locked inside by a well-meaning but grouchy bot who seemed pit-bent on winning first place for "most noble death in the face of unwinnable odds".
Tailgate shook his burnt servo-tips as the controls popped with a spark and a curl of acrid smoke. The doors hesitantly slid open, sticking halfway as the signal from the control panel stopped. The minibot jumped off the chair and forced himself through the egress, leaving a long gray stripe across his chest of scratch-marks and missing paint.
…..
Sixshot took another step backwards as Ultra Magnus continued to battle the sixchanger's body with powerful blows.
Seconds stretched on into the infinite; the three combatants were locked into the eternity of Now, their perceptions chained to the clash of weapons and wills. The plan was simple: force the Elite into the back of the cargo hold so he could be jettisoned into space. The ship's defenses could take it from there. It had worked with one Phase Sixer in the past.
Ultra Magnus was beginning to feel himself tire. He was taking more damage than he was giving. Cyclonus wasn't in much better shape.
Sixshot easily sidestepped a right hook from Magnus, grabbing hold of the carrier-form's extended arm and pulling him into a forward throw, using Magnus' own inertia against him. Ultra Magnus slammed into the back wall of the ship, the thick alloy of the inner hull crushing the structures of his back in resistance to the blow. His shoulder servos locked up, dented actuators malfunctioning. He could do nothing but watch Sixshot transform into beast mode and round on him, fangs bared.
Cyclonus, left arm attached to his body by a few stubbornly strong bits of wire, lashed out at Sixshot with the great sword; the massive blade knocked the sixchanger off all four of his feet and away from Magnus, but it did little more than leave a light cut across Sixshot's shoulder. The wolf-form dug his claws into the floor, preventing himself from being flipped onto his back, leaving grooves and the scream of metal against metal.
Willpower and redirection to back up systems got Ultra Magnus away from the wall. He lurched forward and groped on hands and knees to stand. He didn't dare open fire with his ranged weaponry. It could puncture the ship and suck out the stabilizing atmosphere, risking the explosive decompression of damaged and exposed internal mechanisms.
Cyclonus held his sword forward, moving sideways towards Ultra Magnus, readying himself for the next attack. "Options?" he asked the other bot in a voice just above a whisper.
Magnus grunted, his rotators grinding against each other, forced to move back and forth until caught and bent mechanisms ground free, shearing off blockages. "We keep him here and keep buying time. It's up to Bumblebee, First Aid or Tailgate now." The requirement of their sacrifice in the process went unspoken and agreed upon.
"Tailgate is not an option," Cyclonus said, eyes never leaving the sixchanger, who had steadied himself and transformed back into robot mode, getting to his feet and stalking ever closer.
Ultra Magnus scowled. "You can't keep protecting him-!"
"I locked him into our quarters," Cyclonus interjected.
"Ultra Magnus," Sixshot addressed, almost on top of the two wounded Autobots. "I've been waiting a long time for this challenge. What a pity you don't live up to your reputation. I wanted a little excitement before I die."
"It's not over yet, Decepticon," Ultra Magnus spat, balling his functioning hand into a fist.
Cyclonus did not wait for Sixshot to strike them down. He lunged forward, aiming low, hoping to take the elite off his feet and get a clear strike as his torso. Following Cyclonus' lead, Magnus sprang forward to attempt to tackle the tall Decepticon's upper body and bring him to the floor. The restraints that had held him just a short time before – they were so close, just barely out of reach!
Sixshot's left leg snapped forward from the hip, turning into a circular kick, using the flat of his shin to slam into Ultra Magnus' upper arm, crumpling a wide dent into the rectangular white block of limb, the damage not unlike a broken bone. Carried forward and upwards, using Ultra Magnus' body as a push-off point, Sixshot's foot left the floor, the great sword scraping against the bottom of his boot. Almost fully turned in mid-air, with Ultra Magnus falling beneath him, the Elite's right leg competed the spinning jump, bringing his knee into the back of Cyclonus' head. Both Autobots slammed hard into the floor, shaking the ship with the force of the impact. The great sword fell from Cyclonus' hands, skittering across the floor.
"I think it is," Sixshot coolly replied, stamping his foot into the middle of Cyclonus' back, pinning him, as the sixchanger reached down to grab hold of Ultra Magnus by the back of the neck.
A single weak plasma beam lanced through the air and caught Sixshot across his faceplate.
The brilliant crimson optics of the Elite snapped towards the source of the weaponfire: A small white and blue minibot holding an equally small hand blaster in both servos.
"The next one will be for the eyes," Tailgate growled. "Put them both down and back away. Now. Or we'll see how good you are fighting blind."
The Phase Sixer began to chuckle.
Tailgate's optics turned upwards in confusion. "Hey! You're not supposed to be – why are you laughing?! Stop that!" he demanded, shaking the gun in his hands to emphasize his Very Serious Threat Of Harm. "I will shoot you until it counts! I mean it!"
Cyclonus felt his spark clench in dread. "Tailgate, get out of here!" he hoarsely barked, his voice wavering in fear.
This did not go unnoticed by Sixshot, a wicked flash of light momentarily brightening his visor. "Oh I see," he purred. "This one means something to the cold-hearted warrior, does he?"
"He means nothing!" Cyclonus snarled venomously, knowing he had already tipped his hand.
"Let's find out."
Sixshot raised Ultra Magnus over his head, and thrust him down hard towards Cyclonus, stepping back to beat one bot with the body of another. "NO!" Tailgate screamed, panicking, opening fire with clumsy aim from trembling hands, the beam missing Sixshot's shoulder and leaving a char mark on the wall behind. The sixchanger lept over the tangled bodies in front of him, walking through Tailgate's continued erratic weaponfire and screams of angry defiance until he loomed, pockmarked with black spots of burnt mesh, over the trembling minibot. Tailgate's legs refused to move. He was trapped, optics opened wide, faceplate hanging low like a mouth agape.
The Elite snatched up Tailgate, closing his hand around the entirety of the much smaller bot's torso, holding him like a child's plaything in one hand, one of the minibot's arms pinned to his side. He held Tailgate out for Cyclonus to see as the purple-armored warrior shakily raised his head, viscous pink fluid dribbling from a broken jaw.
"Good, you're still online. I want to see what passes across your optics as I crush this weakling in one hand," Sixshot menaced. Cyclonus gurgled half-formed syllables of old cybex. He no longer had the resolve to disguise his distress. Ultra Magnus clung desperately to consciousness.
"I'll blow up this ship," Tailgate declared boldly.
This got the multichanger's attention, pulling the minibot closer, up to eye level. "Explain," he demanded, disbelieving Tailgate's claim.
"You see this?" the minibot asked, holding up his good arm. Smudged but readable words were still emblazoned there:
Bomb Disposal.
"You're smart enough to read, aren't you?" Tailgate pressed, holding his forearm in Sixshot's face. "Why do you think someone with the words 'Bomb Disposal' would be stationed on this ship? A ship carrying someone as dangerous as you? I'm a demolitions expert. I was one of the Primal Vanguard. Somewhere on this ship there's a bomb powerful enough to turn a star into a singularity, and even someone like you isn't going to be able to make it away from this ship in one piece. I've got multiple ways of activating it, dead or alive, and I will use it to stop you."
"You're lying," Sixshot accused, optics narrowing, giving the little bot a warning squeeze.
Tailgate coughed, trying to open his ventilation systems to the full, fans kicking on from heat build and distress. "Just keep pressing me!" he gasped, glaring at the bigger mech. "You know how we Autobots are, all self-sacrificial for the good of the whole and such. 'Till All Are One', remember?"
Sixshot paused for a moment. "Intriguing," he praised, apparently impressed with Tailgate's resolve. "But let me now ask you: How long are you willing to wait to activate it? I am also well aware that Autobots tend to do stupid things to save their friends. Look over at their wounds, Minibot. How long do you think they have before they completely leak out and their sparks are snuffled? The big one might linger awhile, but the horned one I give about a cycle before he joins the Well. Furthermore, I can die quite happy making certain the rest of you go with me. I have no empire to live for anymore, and I have nothing to look forward to in Autobot hands but execution or dismemberment. This leaves your finger on the trigger, with the choice of death by my hands, or the deaths of you and all of your friends by your own hand. I will be thoroughly entertained watching you choose."
"He doesn't have the rank for that call," Bumblebee announced from behind Sixshot. "That's my decision to make."
"The end result is the same," Sixshot countered with a note of mirth. "I'm sure he will be consoled by the fact that he does not have to activate this bomb of his own volition."
WARNING, the ship's automated message system announced. AUTOPILOT MALFUNCTION. COURSE NO LONGER MAINTAINED.
"Oh come on!" Bumblebee yelled, staring up at the loudspeaker.
WARNING, the ship continued as the cruel twist of fate rotated another one hundred and eighty degrees. ENTERING SOL SYSTEM. PROJECTED DESTINATION: EARTH ORBIT. SYSTEM REGISTERED AS BLACKLISTED TERRITORY. CONTINUED COURSE CONSTITUTES VIOLATION OF THE TYREST ACCORD.
"Frag my life," Bumblebee muttered under his breath.
"I've changed my mind," Sixshot mused. "I'll spare your ship, and remaining crew, Scout, and even let you jettison this cargo hold as you planned – I see your hand on the release – if the minibot goes with me in the void."
"Un...unacceptable!" Ultra Magnus protested weakly from the center of the hold, his mangled body rising with audible difficulty, trying to help Cyclonus from the floor.
"Too bad!" Tailgate spat. "Do it, captain! I'm ready. I've had a long and full life as a member of the Primal Vanguard."
The pieces instantly fit together in Bee's head. "Magnus, Cyclonus, get on your feet and get out of the hold. Now."
"Tailgate-" Cyclonus protested weakly.
"That's an order!" Bumblebee shouted, eyes fixed on Sixshot's face.
Sixshot nodded once in approval. "Spoken like the slayer of Megatron," he praised, keeping a tight hold on Tailgate as he moved away from the entrance to the rest of the ship.
Cylonus' expression was inscrutable; as mangled as it had become in the battle, the storm in his spark could not be seen through visage. He felt it was good fortune to have been mauled... He wasn't sure he could maintain his standard steely facade. Leaning against Ultra Magnus, the two supporting each other to rise from the bowed panels of the floor, Cyclonus and the Autobot Force Commander staggered forward. It was instantly clear that the two would rather it had been a march to execution at the Phase Sixer's hands than to life bought by sacrificing Tailgate.
"You're soft," Sixshot whispered derisively as Cyclonus passed by.
"Cyclonus," Bumblebee warned sharply as the ancient warrior froze in place, hand tightening its grip on the hilt of his sword.
Ultra Magnus pushed forward, forcing Cyclonus to stumble a half step before moving on, a streak of energon dribbling behind the two of them as they at last passed the bay doors, moving behind their captain.
"What a day of surprises it has been, Sixshot mused, walking into the center of the room, Tailgate held like a can of energon rations in one hand. "I will give you the privilege of making peace with your allies before your end, Minibot. I respect courage. I will not defame your memory after you die."
"We won't forget you, Tailgate," Bumblebee added, somber and serious, his hand resting on the cargo bay's main controls.
Cyclonus forced himself to look back, his eyes locked on his student. His companion. His friend. The universe seemed to die around him, retreating into the oblivion of non-perception. These last moments with Tailgate, alive and in his sight, were being burned indelibly into his memories and mind.
Tailgate raised his free arm to salute his captain and crew. Only 'disposal' was visible to the others now.
"See you in the Pit, Decepticon," Bumblebee growled lowly, pressing the button to close the doors.
Sixshot began to laugh. "I'll send you an invitation when I get there!"
The doors shut and the bulkhead clattered and hissed as the locking mechanism ratcheted into place with an airtight seal.
Bumblebee looked away, hand hesitating over the ejection switch.
Click.
The ship lurched slightly with the finality of the cargo bay component's separation. It was done. The auto announcement system provided Tailgate's eulogy.
CARGO BAY JETTISON ENGAGED. SEPARATION COMPLETE.
The steady, rhythmic noise of leaking inner energon filled the void of sound.
Drip.
Drip.
Drop.
...