A loud beeping sound filled the control room, alerting the Quintessons that something was happening outside their base. One of them looked up, turning his spiky head to the main monitor, and then he pressed one of the buttons on the controls.
The image in the monitor grew larger, revealing what triggered the alarm systems.
"Gentlemen, it appears we have company," the Quintesson said.
His other two companions looked at the monitors too, regarding the Autobot ship curiously.
"They're too far from their usual patrolling haunts," the second Quintesson said thoughtfully as he switched to the wizened face.
"They shouldn't be here!" the third Quintesson exclaimed in his devil-like features. "That accursed fugitive must have warned them!"
"There's only a 59,5% possibility that the fugitive had something to do with it," the spiky-headed Quintesson pointed out. "We've cut him off of any means of communication."
"And even if he had something to do with it, we can still use this unexpected turn of events to our advantage," the wise-headed Quintesson reasoned. "Where are the Sharkticons?"
"Still after our prey," the devil-shaped head answered. "He's shown great skill in eluding them thus far."
"Tell them to leave him be for now," the wise-headed Quintesson instructed. "We've just found ourselves new candidates for our experiments."
"They aren't dead!" the devil-shaped Quintesson said.
"Oh, they will be soon," the wise-shaped face replied, pressing another button. "I've just activated the defence-turrets and locked on our target."
"There will still be a 76,3% chance the passengers will survive," the spiky-headed Quintesson pointed out.
"And the ship?" the devil-shaped Quintesson asked. "What damages will it suffer?"
"80,6%"
"Fair enough odds," the wise Quintesson said. "Even if they do survive, they will never be able to leave this planet alive."
"Only as our slaves," the spiky-headed Quintesson concluded.
He climbed on the rocky slope, grabbing onto the sharp ledges with powerful fingers. Strong legs kept him steady, unlike the Sharkticons. As he had quickly discovered, they were clumsy creatures, unable to keep up with him in such a precarious terrain.
The sound of laserfire made him freeze instinctively. Fortunately for him, however, those creatures weren't only clumsy, but also hopeless with guns. Clenching his jaw, he took out of subspace the gun he had managed to steal from one of the creatures and he aimed it straight at the Sharkticon closest to him.
More laserfire was directed at him and he felt his cheek stinging him when one of the shots grazed his face. Even so, he didn't back down. He just relaxed and waited until he could only see the target… and then fired.
The Sharkticon blew up and fell on the ground in more than just a several pieces. Even so, there were others ready to take his place. Clenching his jaw, the mech put the gun back in subspace in order to start climbing up again. If he reached the top, he would be safe. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to save any of his friends this time either.
He looked back, wishing to see if the Sharkticons were still after him. Just as he had expected, they were slowing down, giving up the chase; nevertheless, there was something odd about the way they stopped.
Coming to a halt, he focused his gaze on them and examined their behaviour. The way they tilted their heads was unmistakable; the Quintessons were communicating with their servants, most probably giving them new orders. That was odd, considering that capturing him had been the Quintesson's first priority for the past two moon cycles.
Unless… something else caught their interest. Feeling curious, he climbed as fast as he could at the top of the cliff. He would be able to see what was going on from up there for certain.
He saw bright lights filling the sky, and he heard the sound of explosions practically reverberating through the air. There was no question about it: the Quintessons were after other hapless victims. He lifted his gaze higher, wishing to see what were the defence-turrets firing at.
It was a ship, probably passing by on trading business or other kind of errand. But, at this rate, the ship would certainly crash and the passengers would get severely hurt, if not killed. The mech's dismay changed into sheer horror, however, when he noticed the Autobot insignia on the starboard side of the ship; he knew now why the Quintessons were so eager to bring the particular ship down, and he didn't like it at all. If those Autobots fell into the Quintessons clutches, they would be reprogrammed just like his friends, increasing the numbers of slaves under the vile creatures' command.
Not if I can help it, he thought, clenching his hands into fists. Without hesitation, he transformed to his automobile mode and drove as fast as he could toward the place the ship would crash-land. If his calculations were correct, then it wouldn't be far from where he was. And if he managed to get to them before the Quintessons, then maybe… just maybe… there would be some hope at last.
The first thing that Optimus saw when his optics came online was the star-embroidered space above. At first, he wasn't sure what to make of that sight, or even why he was sprawled on the rock-infested ground, but his memories quickly caught up with him. He remembered that he had ordered everyone to jump out of Skylynx, as it was the only way they would have survived his forced landing. That, however, didn't save Optimus from his own painful crashlanding.
He sat up, wincing as the motion made his whole body feel as if he had been through the shredder, and then he checked his surroundings for any sign of the other Autobots.
"Ow…" Skylynx moaned, transforming to his animal mode. He shook his head to rid himself of the dizzy sensation and the rocks that had landed on him. "Are you hurt, Optimus?"
"I'll live," Optimus assured the flier. "How about you, Skylynx?"
"I'm afraid," Skylynx said, groaning as he attempted to activate his thrusters, "that I'm hit rather badly. I won't be able to fly you chaps out of here."
Optimus sighed. "We'll have to worry about that later. Let's find the others first."
Skylynx nodded his understanding, and both Autobots looked in all directions in the hopes of finding any other familiar shapes. Finally, they caught sight of Sideswipe, also sprawled on the ground and offline, while Sunstreaker was shaking him in an attempt to wake him up. Worried, Optimus and Skylynx hurried to the Twins' side.
"Blast it, Bro! Don't do this to me!" the yellow Lamborghini said angrily. "Open your optics, will you?"
Whether it was because of Sunstreaker's rough treatment or because his self-repair systems rebooted his functions, Sideswipe stirred and finally onlined his optics. Blinking, he locked his gaze on the three Autobots that were staring back at him.
"Did you guys get the number of the oversized tank that ran me over?" he asked, his voice weak but teasing.
Sunstreaker's features brightened. "Yeah," he said. "I'll hold the driver while you beat the living slag out of them."
"How sweet of you, Bro," Sideswipe said. With the aid of his brother, he sat up to face Optimus. "Where are the others?"
"We're here, alive and well and thank goodness for that!" Blurr said, dragging an injured Wreck-Gar. The Junkion was limping, his leg leaking fluid all over the place.
"No more for me, thanks. I'm driving," he said wryly.
"That's two more," Skylynx noted. "But we're still two Autobots short."
Optimus looked around, only to see that Skylynx was right. Jazz and Bluestreak were still missing and, worse, the Autobot leader couldn't see them anywhere. Acting at once, he activated his radio-transmitter.
"Optimus to Jazz and Bluestreak. Do you read?"
There was no answer.
"Jazz and Bluestreak, do you copy?"
All the Autobots waited now with bated breath, hoping to hear any kind of response.
There was none. Optimus tried again, trying not to think what this silence could possibly mean.
"Jazz! Bluestreak!"
"Jazz! Jazz, wake up!"
The voice came as though from afar, and Jazz wasn't sure who was calling him. Still, he complied with the plea and he slowly opened his optics. His vision was blurry at first, but, a few moments later, everything cleared and he saw Bluestreak's face.
The gunner sighed in obvious relief. "Thank Primus. You scared me."
"Sorry, kiddo," Jazz replied, managing a smile. He sat up with a small wince, frowning when he realised that his surroundings looked different for some reason – as if there was more colour. Suspecting what was the problem, he reached for his visor, but it was gone.
"Blue…?"
Bluestreak held up the broken piece of glass that was once Jazz's visor.
"It was a rough landing," he explained. "I was afraid your optics were damaged too, so I removed it to check."
"Blast it. I loved that visor," Jazz said wryly.
Bluestreak shook his head and extended his hand forward, offering his support. "I'm glad you can crack jokes at a time like this." he said.
Nodding his thanks at the gesture, Jazz took Bluestreak's hand and he got back on his feet. "Any idea where the others are?" he asked, scanning the area around them in a curious manner.
"No," Bluestreak said. "I tried to contact them, but my transmitter is dead. How about yours?"
Jazz tilted his head, running a diagnostics scan on his systems. "Nope, I'm afraid my radio's pretty dead, too."
"Things are getting better and better," Bluestreak noted in a dry tone. "Which way do you think we should go?"
"I'm not sure; I can't see any signs that could help us," Jazz said. "I guess we're gonna have to stay put and wait for the others to show up."
Bluestreak, however, looked over Jazz's shoulder. "I hope you don't mean them."
Not really understanding what Bluestreak was talking about, Jazz turned around and looked in the direction the gunner did. Sure enough, he could see several mechs running towards them… but it wasn't Optimus or any of the other Autobots.
"Sharkticons," the saboteur murmured in dismay, and he quickly took out several orb-like devices out of subspace. "You've still got your gun, Bluestreak?"
"Yeah," Bluestreak replied.
"You think you can handle them?" Jazz asked.
Bluestreak's lip component tugged to a slight smirk. "Do Hound and Beachcomber love nature?"
Jazz chuckled before he could help it. "Then show them what you've got."
"Okay," the gunner replied, and he rushed to higher ground.
Meanwhile, Jazz threw the first grenades and watched with grim satisfaction several of the Sharkticons blowing up in pieces. The Sharkticons retaliated in kind, and Jazz had to take cover behind some rocks before any of the bombs hit. Clenching his jaw tightly, he threw his next batch of grenades and he took out of subspace his rifle.
More Sharkticons fell as Jazz's aim proved good, scorch marks marring their chest-plate, where their sparks used to pulse. Bluestreak managed to hit two more, killing them with the accuracy he had been known among the Autobot ranks.
More Sharkticons took the fallen ones' place, moving on in spite of all the setbacks, and Jazz understood they were grossly outnumbered. He nevertheless continued on fighting desperately, just as Bluestreak did. The way things turned out now, both saboteur and the gunner had only two choices; either die and bring down as many enemies as they could… or stand their ground and hope for a miracle.
At first he wasn't sure what to make of the smoke that his optic sensors caught sight of. When the sound of gunfire reached his audios, however, he knew that the Sharkticons were trying hard to get their hands on the newly-arrived Autobots. Throwing all caution in the wind and not caring that his abused body would probably not be able to handle it, he accelerated.
He had to get there at all costs. Failure wasn't an option.
"We're in it, we're in it up to our necks and we can't get out of it!" Blurr babbled in a state of panic. "What if they got injured when they fell? What if they're offline? Dead? Worse, what if the Quintessons got to them and reprogrammed them and-?"
Sunstreaker actually snarled as he faced Blurr, blue optics flashing in anger.
"One more word from you and Primus help me…!"
"That will do, Sunstreaker," Optimus said then, holding up his hand in a gesture of peace. "Our first priority of business is to find Jazz and Bluestreak as quickly as possible."
"But how are we to do that when we don't even know where to start looking?" Sideswipe asked.
"We don't know yet, but we'll know soon," the Autobot leader said and he faced Wreck-Gar. "How are the repairs on Skylynx coming along?"
"It has all been in vain; the Fellowship has failed," Wreck-Gar answered with a shake of head. "The Grail cannot pass beyond the great seal."
"And that means…?" Sideswipe asked, raising an optic ridge.
"It means that he's only managed to repair my scanners," Skylynx answered, stretching his long neck. "On the bright side, I've just managed to pick up the missing Autobots' energy signatures."
"Where are they, Skylynx?" Optimus asked.
"Beyond that rocky terrain," the flier answered, nodding with his head to the direction of several barren hills to the south. "Unfortunately, they aren't alone."
"Then there's no time to lose," Optimus said. "Blurr, you're the fastest. Go on ahead and offer backup to Jazz and Bluestreak until the rest of us get there too."
"Sure thing, Optimus. You know you can always count on me, 'cause I can be whenever you want me to be in a jiffy!" Blurr said, transforming. In, the next moment, Blurr was off at top speed, while Optimus turned to the rest of his companions.
"All right, Autobots! Transform and roll for it!"
The battle was more than just heated by the time he arrived, so no one noticed him when he transformed to his robot mode. Keeping his optics focused on the scene unveiled before him, he crouched as much as possible and used the cover of the rock formations to get closer. Hundreds of calculations crossed his mind as he assessed the Sharkticons' battle formation, as well as the amount of retaliated fire.
Dismayed, he realised that things didn't look good at all. There were only two Autobots fighting back – the amount of laserfire indicated so only too clearly. But where were they?
He caught sight of more laserfire, and he calculated the trajectory to where it came from, another rocky formation several feet away from him. But when he saw who was behind that rock formation, the world around him came to a standstill.
Bluestreak?
No, it couldn't be. Yet it was. And, if Bluestreak was here, then…
He didn't manage to complete his thought. Just then, one of the Sharkticons raised his weapon and got ready to shoot the gunner. Worse, Bluestreak was focused on another Sharkticon, so he was oblivious to the danger.
NO!
Prowl always considered himself an Autobot who never acted on impulse. This time, however, instinct prevailed and he acted on it without hesitation. He loaded his Sharkticon gun again and started firing at the Quintesson minions one after another. He only allowed himself the luxury of a brief smile when he saw Blurr charging into the fight as well, using his speed to wreak more havoc among the Sharkticons. He even kept his focus on the battle when he saw the welcome faces of Optimus, the Twins and Skylynx, who managed to push the remaining Sharkticons to a shameful retreat. Finally, when he heard Sunstreaker calling out his trademark daunts and threats to the retreating Sharkticons, Prowl decided he could put the gun back in subspace.
That is, until the sound of a laser gun cocking stopped him in his tracks. Turning around, he found himself facing Bluestreak, who was aiming his gun at him.
Jazz noted with relief that Primus indeed smiled at him and Bluestreak. Just when he had thought that he would be unable to hold back the Sharkticons any longer, reinforcements arrived in the form of Blurr. If that wasn't bad enough for the Quintesson minions, Optimus, the Twins, Wreck-Gar and Skylynx arrived as well, attacking with all their fire power to disperse the abominations in no time at all. Sunstreaker especially was more than happy to see the backs of the Sharkticons as they fled, and he didn't bother hiding it.
"Yeah, you'd better run!" the yellow warrior cried. "Next time I'll see you, I'll shove your heads right up your afts!"
Sideswipe agreed wholeheartedly with that statement and he high-five'd his brother with a smirk. Optimus, on the other hand, hurried to Jazz, a look of concern quite readable in his optics.
"Are you all right, Jazz?"
Jazz nodded. "Just a few dents and scratches, Prime. But my radio-transmitter is busted."
"Then I'll tell Wreck-Gar to have a look at it," the Autobot leader said. "What about Bluestreak?"
Jazz frowned. "Now that's a good question. I figured that he would have climbed down the slope by now."
"Wait, did something happen to Bluestreak?" Sunstreaker asked, overhearing the conversation.
Nobody had the chance to answer, for it was then that the sound of a single blast filled the air like thunderclap, coming from the direction Bluestreak was.
TBC...