Author notes: Hehe, the single review convinced my brain to write more. Way to go, you single reviewer you! *cheers and applauds*
Warnings: A bit of violence and horror in this chapter. Mmm.
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I'm an animal, I'm a victim
I'm the answer to your prayers
I'm a witness on a witch hunt
I'm the monster up the stairs
I'm the ghost that's in the mirror
I'm everything that you fear
I'm the rip tide, I'm the soul-shock
I'm the voice that's in your ear
-- 'Seen It All', Korn
Trouble on the Line: Part Two
Perhaps it was for the best that the Autobots at the meeting didn't spread word of what they had heard from Saturnia. Even Cliffjumper remained unusually silent about it, although the other-Arcee noticed the red minibot followed her after she had told this world's heroes what she had.
It had taken some convincing to have Optimus Prime allow her to use their communication system. Unsurprisingly, she was able to do so under the condition that a trusted officer watched over her to see who she called and why. Considering everything she had already told them, she saw no reason to refuse. Saturnia was, however, surprised to find it wasn't one officer, but two; the two minibots.
Bumblebee looked as alarmed as he likely should be, all things considered. Cliffjumper appeared suspicious, peering at the Arcee-double with narrowed optics. Saturnia decided she rather liked this version of Cliffjumper.
The Autobots had what constituted a large, flat-screen plasma surrounded by a myriad of other, smaller screens connected to multiple communication lines. Telephone, radio, short-range and long-range. Saturnia checked for any sort of plugs; a good bit of digging in her subspace brought up a proper match, a small USB flash drive.
"What are you doing?" Cliffjumper peered. "I knew it! A Decepticon virus!"
Saturnia stared at the minibot in some humor; she hadn't even plugged the device in yet. "I'm about to make a very, very long range communication in to another reality. Unless you have ability to do that with your systems as they are, the temporary program on my jump drive is necessary."
Cliffjumper peered at the small device a moment. Warily, he backed off, allowing the pink femme to do as she pleased.
The screen sparked with static for a moment. Then, a password box appeared. Saturnia typed in the sixteen digits quickly, barely looking at the keyboard. Several seconds later, a strange, pale yellow robot that looked suspiciously like an Earthen rabbit appeared on screen.
"Konnichiwa..!" It sung out.
"..Yeah, Moon, connect me to Rachnia, will you?"
"Hai!" The rabbit-like creature pressed a couple of keys.
"..Uh.." Bumblebee gave Saturnia an odd look. "Do we..?"
"No. No, you really don't." The femme smirked slightly. "When you deal with alternate realities, things -- and people -- can get a little.. Weird."
The minibot decided not to query further on the subject. It took several minutes of rather obnoxious elevator music before another face appeared on screen; a black and gold femme who seemed to lack any color at all in her optics.
"Hello, Blackarachnia." Saturnia smiled pleasantly.
Blackarachnia blinked once, looking at the minibots. Then, she held a pincer-like hand in front of her mouth, smirking. "Oh, daddy isn't going to be very happy with you."
"I'll take whatever punishment the elders decide to dish out, because we have escapees. Survivors."
The black and gold femme stiffened, empty optics widening in surprise. "Someone actually escaped?! Wait, escapees? As in, plural?!"
"Mmhmm." Saturnia nodded. "The two the Silvers were after weren't captured, either. Send a big thanks to Wasp for me, but I think my station here is going to be.. Extended a couple of days. I rather not leave until the two here are repaired and able to walk on their own. I doubt moving them rapidly from place to place will help them psychologically, either."
"Good call.." Blackarachnia nodded once, visibly stunned. "I'll call the big guys about this. I'm sure they'll want to get as much info out of the two runaways as they can."
"You have my number." The pink femme nodded. "I'm temporarily using this Ark's systems for now."
"Thanks for the heads up, Ar." The femme on the other end of the line smiled slightly. "I'll have the cats cover your other missions while you're down there. Do you need backup?"
"Negative. I have things under control here, for now. I'll call if anything changes."
"Got it." The black and gold femme gave a quick salute with a thin pincer. "Central out, sister."
The line ended abruptly, the screen shutting off completely. Saturnia unplugged the small USB drive and put it back in to subspace. Then, she turned to the minibots. "Where's your medical bay?"
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"I have absolutely no idea what the slag this is."
Saturnia blinked as she walked in, surprised at how fast the Ratchet of this world got to the punch. "We're talking about the semi-organic one, aren't we?"
"Yes!" Ratchet raised his arms, appearing glad that someone knew what he was talking about. "I drugged him in to recharge. I've never seen any internal mechanisms like this in my life!"
"What about the other one?" The pink femme seemed amused by Ratchet's almost animated demeanor.
"Yes, well, about that.." The medical officer took in a deep intake. "..He'll be fine, but.. He's Starscream."
Saturnia stared at white and red mech. "And, let me guess.. This bothers you."
"Very much so."
"Then pretend it isn't Starscream because, technically, it isn't. Not yours." Saturnia smirked. "This may surprise you, but there's actually a group of Starscreams out there who are actually good guys."
Ratchet stared; this concept appeared to break his logic circuits, as his expression suddenly became very still and blank.
"Oh, don't stare at me like that." Saturnia laughed a little. "We're talking about alternate realities, half-organic mechs and multiple versions of the same person, and a good version of Starscream is what shocks you?"
"But.. He's.." Ratchet sputtered a moment. "..Starscream."
Saturnia laughed, barely holding in her hilarity. "I'm well aware of this fact. Is he going to survive?"
"Yes, yes he will, although it'll take a few solar cycles." Ratchet nodded slowly, gaining back some sense of self. "So is the.. Partially.. Organic one, I believe. The parts I recognize don't appear too badly damaged."
A sudden scream of absolute panic erupted from a connected room; the closed door barely muffled it.
"..And he's awake. Yay." Saturnia sighed, humor now lost. "I'll go talk to him." Without waiting for Ratchet's permission, she quickly walked over to the door and opened it. A thrown syringe barely missed her head, hitting the door frame like a dart.
"Stay back!" The half-organic in question was holding the mobile berth like a shield and wielding a syringe like a dagger, absolute panic in his optics. "Stay back, all of you!"
"Oookay." Saturnia raised her optic ridge; really, she should have expected this. She raised her hands in a placating manner. "..It's all right. Calm down. My name is Saturnia, and this is Ratchet, and.. Uhm.." Suddenly, she noticed that the two minibots had followed her in. "..Bumblebee and Cliffjumper. I think. We won't hurt you."
The poor mech's intake was coming in fast and shallow, still waving the dagger. The four bots simply stood by the door, and their patience appeared to have some effect; as the partially organic mech looked around the room and took stock of important details, his breath started to even out, becoming slower. After a full three minutes, the dagger-syringe was lowered.
"Okay.." Saturnia slowly started to step forward; she managed to get close enough to pry the syringe away. "It's all right. You're someplace safe, now. You can put the bed down."
The winged, canine-like mech looked at the berth as if he hadn't noticed he had been wielding it. Slowly, he set it down. "..Someplace safe?" The shock in his voice worried the pink femme.
"Yeah.. Someplace sa --" The mech suddenly collapsed; Saturnia barely caught him. "..Ack."
Ratchet rushed forward, helping the dizzy mech back on the berth. A shocked, canine face looked at the medical officer, golden optics wide; gray paint coated the partial organic, melting seamlessly with the fur and feathers that covered him. The colors alone denoted exactly who he was to Saturnia.
"It's all right, Silverbolt.." The pink femme spoke gently; the call of his name had the golden optics turning quickly in her direction. "You don't have to tell me what happened, but you're safe, now."
"His name is Silverbolt?" Bumblebee boggled.
"We got out?" The gray canine stared at nothing, optics unfocused. "..We.." He slowly looked to Ratchet. "..I saw you dragged back in.."
"Wrong one." Saturnia patted a wing gently.
"..Oh." That seemed a proper answer to the shellshocked mech on the berth. "Okay." He lied back and seemed to think for a brief moment; then, he shot back up abruptly. "The other..!"
"He's okay. He's going to be just fine." Saturnia smiled gently.
Once again, this seemed a proper response; Silverbolt lied back down. "Good.. Thank Primus, good.."
Saturnia made a vague gesture to the medical officer; Ratchet appeared to understand the query, and retrieved a syringe. The practically catatonic mech on the bed didn't appear to notice as he was injected and quickly fell under the drug.
"When will he wake up?" The femme sighed.
"Two groons. Maybe three." Ratchet frowned. "..What happened to him?"
"I imagine everything." Saturnia frowned. "Is it possible to get a communication system in here? Even a small one?"
"I'll.. I'll go ask.." Bumblebee sputtered, eager to leave; he gave the offline mech a wide-optic stare before running out.
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The Ark, in all it's glory, lacked a portable communication system that was little better than their audio-only comm units or a human telephone. The request for a small screen and one of those comm units was approved; from there, Saturnia simply hooked the two together with some plugs and wires from her subspace and then had the makeshift system outfitted with the flash drive again.
"I'm a regular McGuyver." The pink femme half whispered to herself in sudden humor.
"What's a McGuyver?" The now awake -- and slightly more aware -- mech on the berth stared at her in bafflement.
"Never mind." Saturnia smirked a little.
After the gray mech had woken up from the drugs, he had been aware, yet subdued; he seemed to lack any sort of mirth or energy, although he certainly seemed much calmer with such simple things as a large blanket and pillow. Transformers ordinarily didn't need such things, but human influence had taught a number of them how important simple soft comforts could be. Where they got blankets and pillows big enough to suit them, however, was unknown.
Despite a lack of keyboard, Saturnia managed to punch in her password at the main screen. The same overly-cheerful rabbit transferred her to the requested line, earning an odd stare from the berth-ridden mech. The same obnoxious elevator music played again as they waited.
"..So.." A canine face looked up at her. "..The center of all realities is.. A bureaucracy?"
Saturnia chuckled softly. "Something like that, yeah. Usually, it works much better than it has been lately."
"I.. See." Still, the mech appeared confused; all things considered, she didn't blame him.
Several minutes came and passed; Saturnia was slightly annoyed when the hold music finally stopped and a face appeared on screen. At who precisely it was, the pink femme stopped in surprise and quickly saluted. "Sir! I didn't think --"
"Oh, stand down." The face of Optimus Prime was on the other end. "I've already been debriefed. Is he one of the escaped?"
"Yes, sir." Saturnia nodded. "The other will need a few solar cycles yet, according to the medic here."
"That's acceptable." The tone both bots held was entirely too formal to denote a simple micro-government; it seemed more military than otherwise. Silverbolt gulped, suddenly nervous.
"My name is Optimus Prime, and I'm sorry to put you though this.." Now, the Prime on the screen looked to the gray mech. "I need you to tell me what happened. From the start, if you can. We need as much information as we can get."
"The start?" The mech shifted in place under the blanket; Saturnia set a hand on his shoulder. The simple gesture appeared to calm him. "The start.. All right.." A deep intake. "..The silver ones appeared out of.. No where. Quickstrike and I were both trying to claim a stasis pod that ended up being a blank. Next thing I knew, this.. Swirling light appeared and the silver ones came out.."
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"What in tarnation..?" Even Quickstrike had stopped in surprise at the sight of the portal. The Predacon paused his attack to stare at it, peering suspiciously. "..What the..?"
Shapes came out of the swirling colors, silver paint gleaming in the afternoon sun. At first, the dozen or so bots that came through seemed just as surprised as the two warring mechs. Then, dark grins lit their faces and they surged forward.
Quickstrike let out a wild cackle of joy -- he loved a good fight --, and started to fire on the newcomers. A shocked Silverbolt, despite hating the thought of running from a fight, found very little honor in being attacked by completely unknowns and decided to retreat. An attempt to call for help was met with static; a Predacon jamming station must have been nearby.
The Maximal didn't get very far; a silver mech that bore a resemblance to Tarantulas's old file image fired a net of webbing and caught him solidly around. With the netting as tight as it was, firing wing missiles proved impossible; firing one in desperation ended up nearly blasting his own arm off.
Both warriors were taken through the portal, the Predacon unconscious from his tactics. Upon being dragged through, Silverbolt had the brief notion that it was all a bizarre Predacon ploy; a hostage-taking, perhaps. It was the sight of dozens -- no, hundreds, if not more -- silver-painted mechs of all sorts that gave the fuzor pause. The sight of a silver version of Optimus Primal, grinning darkly, caused him to gape in stunned confusion.
The netted mech was left on the ground next to the unconscious Quickstrike for several minutes as the swirling gate closed behind him. Several silver painted mechs laughed and congratulate each other on the latest catch.
Then, Silverbolt noticed the cages.
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Silverbolt paused for a moment, lost in memory, as he stared at the blankets. He barely noticed his own hands clutching the fleece tight.
Saturnia frowned in concern. "I'm sorry.. We need to know."
"..Someone inside had coined the term 'bot mill'. Something about it resembling a human 'puppy mill', whatever that is." The Maximal took in a deep intake, forcing himself to continue. "Long cages stacked ceiling to floor on top of each other.. Floor, walls and ceiling made of thick wire mesh.. Dozens of us were stuffed in to each one until we could barely move. I.. I think we were separated by type. There were two sets of those cages, one of them was at least thirty yards off. The other one had only the sort like the first Autobots and Decepticons, all metal. I was in one that only had people with beast modes."
"One with beast warriors, the other with the standard type.." Optimus Prime seemed to frown on the screen, but didn't seem entirely too disturbed by the tale itself.
"They were trying to reprogram us. They were breaking us down until our firewalls couldn't resist, anymore." Silverbolt looked up at the screen. "They were succeeding."
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The cages were ceiling to floor. It quickly became obvious why the floor was made of mesh and not solid metal; mech fluid, energon, and all sorts of other fluids would rain from the top cages to the ones below. The ones at the very top cage were perhaps the luckiest, the ones on the very bottom, not so much.
An elevator lift was the only way to get from floor to ceiling; Silverbolt didn't know where Quickstrike had ended up, but he had wound up somewhere in the middle, thrown in and shut inside. There were at least two dozen others cramped in with him. Some were recognizable; some were not.
"What.. is this place..?" To say he was frightened would have been somewhat of an understatement.
"Oh.. You're new." A mech sporting a deep purple and dark gray form, a copious amount of fur, and had what appeared to be two halves of a wolf head on his shoulders made his way towards the fuzor. He had to squeeze through other mechs to get there, jade optics looking at the canine fuzor with some sadness. "..Is it safe to assume your name is Silverbolt?"
"How..?" The fuzor stared.
The gray and purple mech gestured to the back of the long cage; an identical duplicate of Silverbolt -- missing an optic and heavily scarred. "My name's Wolfang. Uhm.. Welcome to the Pit."
Really, none of this was helping Silverbolt's frame of mind; in fact, he felt like offlining, passing out then and there. "What.. How.. What is this place?!"
"The bots with the silver paint are reprogramming us." Wolfang frowned sadly, looking through the mesh wall to the ground below; they were the equivalent of four stories up. "They're breaking us down until they can get through our firewalls. That's what those things are for."
Silverbolt looked to where Wolfang was pointing; there were solid steel tables on the ground surrounding the cages and going deeper in the large complex. At first, he didn't understand why they needed so many tables or what they were there for, until he noticed what looked suspiciously like straps. His optics zoomed in as far as they could go to confirm it. It took several short cycles more until he noticed mechs ties down to several tables; some with odd helmets covering their optics as they twitched in what looked like pain, others cut open in a macabre distortion of surgery, bleeding. At least one mech was offline for good, dead, corpse simply left there.
"Primus." The fuzor gaped.
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"They were torturing us until we broke down." Silverbolt sighed. "There was always someone screaming, always new people coming in or becoming one of the silver ones. I don't think I was in there more than a month, and so many things happened. The other version of myself was repainted a few days before.."
There was a slight pause, a shudder going through the Maximal's frame.
"..How did you escape?" Saturnia frowned, worried.
"They brought me out and down. Probably back to the tables. The other two came from the other cages, and they were taking all three of us to the same place." A small, sad smile. "The portal opened, and.. We had nothing to lose. We fought to get free and we ran for everything we had." The smile faded and he offlined his optics. "..One of them didn't make it."
"Did they have a name? The silver ones." Prime's voice came from the screen.
"Not that I heard, or any of my cellmates." Silverbolt looked up. "They had temporary names for squadrons and the like, but no formal name that I heard. Most of us just called them 'The Chrome Slaggards'."
"Do you know who was in command of the silver ones?"
Silverbolt shook his head slowly. "No one ever saw him or heard his name. The silver ones simply called him 'The Master', and that was it. They referred to him as male, but beyond that.." He shook his head again.
"Did you notice anything unusual?" Prime asked; at the incredulous stare, he sighed. "To elaborate.. Did you see any wildlife, what was the building made of..? These details might tell us where this entire complex is set up."
Silverbolt looked back to the blankets, thinking deep. "..Most of the area was constructed of metal. Cybertronian design, I think. But there was some wood on the lower parts of the walls. I think I saw a human-sized chair, as well."
Saturnia didn't voice it, but that was rather unhelpful; humans were just as populous as Cybertronians were in the multi-verse.
"Thank you, Silverbolt." Prime nodded on screen. "You've been invaluable. If you remember anything else, anything at all, please don't hesitate to tell us."
A long pause rent the air. The fuzor looked to the screen. "What happens to me now?"
"For now, you'll stay where you are for several solar cycles. Then.. Well, you'll go home. Back to your world."
Silverbolt frowned deeply. "What about Wolfang? What about the others?"
"We'll do what we can." Prime seemed to frown again. "My people are working to find what world this is happening on and to arrange a rescue."
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Outside the door to the partially organic mech's room, Cliffjumper stood in numb shock as he listened in. He had been so certain this was all some sort of Decepticon ruse that the story he had heard instead was a complete surprise.
If this was all true -- and, somehow, he still had doubts despite all evidence to the contrary --, he had come incredibly close to being completely slagged.
The red minibot shifted in place for a moment, unsure; it wasn't often that he simply didn't know what to do. After several cycles of trying to get his thoughts together, he moved away from the door, pace increasing. Prime would want to know what he had learned; perhaps if he told his commander, what he had heard would stop repeating in his head.
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I'm the hunted, I'm the predator
I'm the answer to the riddle
I'm the up-beat, I'm the head-fuck
I'm the way off left of the middle
I'm the player, I'm the naive
I'm the one who's not addicted
I'm the logic to the fuck up
I'm the broken one who fixed it
-- 'Seen It All', Korn
Author notes: I swear, it'll get less Beast Wars-ey later. :D