A/N: I'm giving everyone some of the back-story from "Thrown to the Front Lines", just in case readers don't remember certain events and to bring any new readers up to speed on what is happening. Hopefully all those loose ends everyone was wondering about make sense –very evil grin-
Synopsis: Our hero and heroine are still away, and everyone is still wondering exactly what the Seekers are up to…everyone but Jetfire.
Cookies to anyone that can figure out what the runes say!
Italics are used for emphasized words, internal dialogue, psychic communications, and recollections of previous events.
As always, constructive criticism is welcomed! Reviews make the authoress write faster and plan more evil twists to baffle you with! Mwhahahah!
Story Arc 6
Chapter 2 – Sins of the Past
Previously from "Thrown to the Front Lines"…
The fight for Portland:
The horde lunged at Soundwave, knocking him to the ground and slashing at his chest plate with its vicious claws. The dark blue mech grunted as he hit the broken ground, stunned that the creature had lacerated his body and revolted that the thing now sat upon his chest, licking energon off its hands happily. How was this even possible? His armor was fortified with the nanites! Nothing should be able to hurt him! With as little movement as Soundwave could manage, he aimed his sidearm at the creature's face and pulled the trigger. The smoking carcass of the horde fell to the ground, its neural net severed. He got up quickly, firing on each of the creatures that ventured too close to him. A panicked thought raced across Soundwave's CPU as he dodged out of the way of another set of claws: why were these things attacking him?
More of the horde came after him, with each new set of claws digging into his weakened armor. There was a growing halo of energon falling to the street around him as he fought to keep the creatures at bay. Little did the Decepticon Communications Officer know that he wasn't alone in this part of the broken city...
The black and white Saboteur watched Soundwave fighting from the shadows. It was by luck that Jazz had found the Decepticon battling the horde and would have left the Communications Officer to die by their claws, except he had a score to settle with Soundwave. It had been a long time since he assassinated anyone and the situation was not exactly to his liking, but since Soundwave had painfully altered Rachel's memories, Jazz wasn't going to worry about finesse in this kill. He stalked along the shadows until he was even with the battling mech, waiting for Soundwave's attention to be totally focused elsewhere before he attacked.
The Decepticon turned to shake off a horde that had latched on to his arm, when his helm was grabbed and forced back. The energon dagger slipped into the softer metal of his neck like a plasma blast through a sheet of tin foil. The dagger's deadly path severed his vocal processor as it sliced upwards, through his facemask and blood red visor before ending its destructive course in his right audio sensor. Soundwave swayed on his feet, his hands moving up to his neck trying to stop his gushing lifeblood from spilling onto the street.
"Payback is a bitch ain't it, Soundwave?" The Saboteur's normally azure visor darkened as he shoved the Decepticon away from him, and glared into the shattered red visor. "That's for what y' did t' Rachel."
Jazz motioned animatedly to the blood red optics of the horde that had gathered in the shadows of the darkened street, waiting for the fight to finish. "Looks like it's Decepticon on the menu tonight." Jazz kicked Soundwave in the chest hard, sending the wounded mech onto his back in the ruined street. He walked over to the fallen dark blue mech and kicked him again in the side. "I hope they have a cozy space in the Pit reserved just for y're sorry aft."
--
Soundwave barely heard the Autobot leave as most of his attention was on finding a way to stop the copious amount of energon flowing through his fingers. In his frustration with the horde he had not considered that there were Autobots nearby, and up until the things attacked him, he was under the impression that he was impervious to all attacks.
There were numerous red optics mulling around him as his sight wavered and finally failed; he was going to be ripped apart and eaten by the horde. He would die on the broken street in this ruined human city on this Primus forsaken planet - and it scared him. And in his final moments of this nightmare, Soundwave took his pain receptors offline. He could tune out the noise of the things ripping him to shreds, but he was scared of the agony he was imminently facing. As consciousness flowed away from him just like the pooling energon that poured from his wounds, the Communications Officer thought he could make out heavy footfalls echoing through the ruined street.
--
Devastator came across the dying Soundwave as the horde scurried away from the giant Combiner. He debated whether to end the mech's misery quickly or let the Communications Officer bleed to death. In the mess of jumbled and competing thoughts, Hook's mind struggled up from the bowels of Devastator's consciousness.
"A few upgrades to this mech and he could prove to be most useful to us. Disengage and let me stabilize him."
Devastator agreed and the six separated. Hook bent down over Soundwave and quickly put the mech into stasis lock. He activated Soundwave's mass displacement program and stashed the dark blue recording device into his subspace. Hook turned around to the other Constructicon and smirked. "When I get a free moment I will upgrade him."
--
Current time:
Their infrared vision was one of the first things that Hook had repaired so that the six could work in the 'pen' that the humans locked them up in every night. So far repairs were slow and agonizing, especially since they were not fully equipped with the tools that Hook and Scrapper needed to work and the humans were abusing them every day to repair their loathsome city.
The engineer had created a basic energon converter that they could use for refueling, and while Scrapper and Hook worked on repairing the other Constructicons, the others worked on gathering the poor quality energon for usage. Everyone except Mixmaster. The worn out mixer was fed the most of the energon gathered. The abuse the humans put on him daily was tiring, but it was at night when he was denied recharge that he was forced to slave over making material that really wore the mixer down. Human made materials were unacceptable for repairs, especially by Hook's high standards, and would not withstand any attack let alone the workout the humans put them through every single day.
Scrapper snarled as he was forced once again to repair the treads on Scavenger. This was the third time this month that this exact repair was needed, and the construction engineer was past his limit. He threw the spanner he had been using to the ground. "We can't keep working like this! It's degrading to be forced into laboring for the humans and I cannot keep up with the constant mundane repairs! We need decent Cybertronian materials and tools!"
Hook glared tiredly at the front-end loader. "And exactly how to you purpose we acquire Cybertronian materials? Raid Nemesis? Go back to Megatron and beg for his forgiveness?" He laughed coldly. "I would rather be melted into bolts than go back to being constantly degraded by him."
Longhaul looked at the others as he brought another crude energon cube to Mixmaster. "Why don't we just use the Space Bridge and go back to Cybertron?"
Scrapper growled. "Brilliant idea! Except for one small problem," He turned his snarl on the dump truck. "Megatron controls the Space Bridge and none of us have the codes or the authorization to access it!"
An idea struck him and Hook crossed his arms over his chest and started to laugh. As his laugh grew louder, Scrapper and the other Constructicons stared at him, as if the engineer had finally lost his perfectionist mind. He smirked evilly through his laughter at the confused Scrapper before slapping him on the back. "If you can handle a few more days of mundane repairs, my dear friend, I shall have your authorization and your codes and our key back to Cybertron."
"How?"
The engineer picked up the discarded spanner, his evil grin spreading further over his faceplate; there was the soft hiss of a subspace pocket opening and Hook produced a familiar dark blue recording device. " I just need to make some repairs and a few upgrades."
--
After the battle:
Rachel froze in the middle of the hallway when she heard his icy voice. "Figures you would be smiling and happy with yourself. You managed to kill four of us, four of my friends, with that poison you convinced everyone to wear." He spat at her coldly, "I bet you've already got your next plan to eradicate us in the works. And still..." the red mech shook his head. "Still Optimus allows you to live here and Ratchet has you helping on repairs."
Cliffjumper walked up behind her, his hatred roiling off of his body in red-hot waves. "So what did you cook up with the Decepticons to kill us with this time?" He stepped in front of the young woman, sneering at her, "Hmm? Don't play innocent with me. I know you've been working with the Decepticons, that's why you keep saving those slaggin' Seekers."
Rachel took a step back in fear, "I'm not working with the Decepticons..."
His optics narrowed and he leaned in to glare at her, "Oh yeah? Then explain how Devastator and Megatron had those frakking nanites of yours?"
"They copied my designs for-"
"Copy my skidplate! You're frakking collaborating with them!"
She took a few more steps backwards; frantically wishing someone would come down this hallway and scare him off. "I am not!"
He growled and stepped menacingly towards her, "You lying little glitch!"
"I'm not lying," She tried to edge away from him again, her voice shaking in fear.
"They should have left you to die back at the Decepticon base! Then the others would still be alive!" Cliffjumper spat at her.
She tried to bolt past the minibot but he was quicker, and he easily knocked her to the ground. She skidded across the hallway and tried to get up, but the Autobot had his weapon drawn and aimed at her head.
"Cliffjumper! I didn't kill them and I didn't want them to die! I didn't want anyone to get hurt!" She was crying now on her knees staring at the barrel of the gun. "I didn't want any of this to happen!"
"What in Primus' name are you doing, Cliffjumper?!" Windcharger had appeared down the hallway and stopped cold at the sight of the mech and the young woman.
The safety on his gun clicked off and Rachel shut her eyes, turning her head away from the enraged minibot. "Stay out of this, 'Charger!"
Windcharger ran down the hallway. "Stop it, Cliffjumper!"
The shot rang out in the hallway, the sound echoing and bouncing over the titanium paneling. The young woman whimpered and looked up. Cliffjumper had turned slightly, a thin trail of smoke exiting the muzzle of his gun. His facial expressions slowly went from pent up rage to abject horror. Rachel followed his gaze down the hall and gasped loudly. Windcharger stood very still as he held a shaking hand up to his chest plate and felt the gaping wound that was spilling energon quickly.
Time stood completely still as the two mechs looked at each other; the expressions flashing over their face plates from horror to shock to betrayal. Windcharger fell to his knees with a dull thud, his optics never leaving Cliffjumper's face.
The alarm system broke the deadly silence and time quickly sped up. "ALERT! WEAPONS DISCHARGED IN SECTION A-5! WEAPONS DISCHARGED IN SECTION A-5!"
Windcharger coughed up energon that spattered down his front and onto the floor. Cliffjumper, still stunned at what he had just done, dropped his gun and tried to take a step towards his friend. The red and gray minibot sat down hard on his heels and coughed again, bringing up oil and energon before he sagged to the floor. Cliffjumper's optics widened in dismay. He seemed glued to the floor until the heavy sound of running footsteps could be heard. The minibot then panicked and ran, transforming and peeling out in the hallway.
--
Current time:
It was a black moonless night and he wasn't exactly sure where he was anymore; he wasn't sure he cared anymore either. He had driven non-stop for days and was at the ends of his energon reserves. Disturbing images of the mech staring at him and coughing up energon forced him to drive faster. He had been so angry. He could feel his gun in his hand, steady and sure one moment, weak and shaking the next. He gunned his engine again, trying to drive away from reality. A reality that forced him to remember that he had killed his best friend.
His back tire blew out and Cliffjumper swore into the dark night. He didn't bother to stop moving before he transformed, tumbling across the rocky ground before finally ending up on his back and staring blankly at the stars. He shut his optics with a loud groan; he had let his reserves drop below twenty percent and was he dead tired.
Dead tired. Dead. Dead as in Windcharger. Dead as in he had shot Windcharger. Dead as in he had gunned down his best friend, Windcharger.
The faceplate of the gray and red mech swam in front of his vision and Cliffjumper's optics shot open, cycling air quickly through his systems as he panted. He couldn't stay here. He had to keep moving. Why? He didn't know, but he had to keep moving.
You have to keep moving because you know they are coming for you.
He rolled onto his side with a pained sigh, shutting his optics again; the urge to shut down and wait until his energon reserves ran out was so tempting. He tried to push himself up as he opened his optics again. He was in the middle of nowhere, but it was a familiar nowhere. He sat up slowly and looked around, something in the back of his mind tickled a memory of this place. He knew this place. They had fought here. Fought here against the Decepticons for…something.
You had fought side-by-side with him here.
He shook his head violently; as if by some miracle that would make the haunting images of Windcharger disappear.
But it didn't.
He slowly got to his feet and stumbled over to a rocky outcropping of boulders. It wouldn't offer much cover once the sun came up, but it was better than on the ground. He eased himself down between the rocks and looked back up into the sky again, staring at the stars as if they would absolve him of his crimes. The stars. He came from one of them. They both had. They had come from home to this Pit-forsaken planet to stop the Decepticons…
The Space Bridge.
That was what his memory chips were trying to recall. That was what they were fighting Megatron and his goon squad over.
He wanted to go home and forget about this planet and the stupid humans, especially that one. This was all her fault. Yes. It was because of her that he was angry. It was because of her that the others were dead. Her fault that he had turned on his best friend…
His optics went out of focus and he drifted off into recharge as his conscious tried to justify why all this had happened.
--
Optimus Prime watched as Skywarp took off after his wingmates, pondering over what had just happened. He turned to look at Jetfire who was also gazing sadly at the vapor trails left in the air by the Seekers. The gentle scientist sighed and turned to leave, only to catch the Autobot leader looking at him. "Yes, Optimus?"
Kindly sky blue optics smiled at him, "Do you want to talk about it, Jetfire?"
The Veritech gave a weak laugh, "About what Starscream was talking about?"
"I trust if it is important that you would let me know. But if you need to talk about anything else, my door is always open."
Jetfire turned and looked back at the vapor trails that were now dissipating. He shook his head, his icy blue optics tinged with sadness,"Maybe later, Optimus."
--
Jetfire stood outside the Ark, staring up into the sky and thinking about what had happened earlier with Starscream and the others. Harmonizing radiation. There were a veritable slew of theories that he could come up with about what could give off those specific radiation signatures. But as to why Starscream and the Seekers were interested in them… Jetfire cringed. Back when they were scientists on Cybertron, he remembered that Starscream had been working on a type of scanner that would be used to detect foreign energy signals in space - supposedly to help map out systems with binary stars for potential energy resources. But…
The gentle scientist frowned with a sigh. Starscream had used the scanner just a handful of times, and it seemed to have major glitches in its ability to actually find resources in the binary systems. But Starscream didn't seem to mind that it wasn't working right. As a matter of fact, he seemed excited that it wasn't working, which in and of itself was odd for Starscream since he was such a perfectionist in all of his other work.
Jetfire went over the readings from the radiation signatures again: three almost identical harmonizing radiation signatures, one being something that he knew very well, that were spread around the universe.
And that's what puzzled him.
Granted that he hadn't been totally honest to Starscream about the readings and he now questioned whether it had been wise to tell him about the signatures; but if it had taken this long for the young Seeker to find that signature on this planet, then he highly doubted that anyone on either side really knew what those readings actually were. And even he wouldn't have known what it was either if he hadn't been working with his mentor the day it was found.
Jetfire shook his head with a small smile at the memories of his mentor calling him away from his work to witness what very few Cybertronians would ever get to experience. There were scientists and cryptographers swarming all over the place as everyone tried to unlock its secrets. He could still hear the voice of the elder mech as he read the runes that had been decoded so far out loud to him: Shorol sor terdi jhor si mas os taerol.
He gazed absently at the approaching night, the first stars breaking through the sunset. Did Starscream actually know what that radiation signature was? Could he still trust Starscream enough to leave it alone? Should he even get involved in this? The myriad of questions fought inside of him and the logic of the situation battled heavily with his belief in not harming other species.
In the end, everything boiled down to how much he could trust Starscream. Jetfire sighed. Seven million years ago they had been colleagues, friends even, but now…
With a heavy spark, the gentle scientist made his way past the entrance of the Ark and over to Wheeljack's laboratory. He stood outside the door and paused, wondering once again if this was the right decision to make.
Jetfire knocked on the orange titanium door and waited for the engineer to appear. The door slid open and the white and blue mech smiled, pleasantly surprised at the gentle scientist's appearance. "What can I do for you, Jetfire?
"I need to build a scanner."