Chapter 17
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. I own only Nightshade.
And once more, Leo is not the traitor.
The traitor, like I said in the last chapter, is someone you'd least expect it.
Oh, and for y'all out there that aren't nerds like me, I'll define a few things right now. I don't want anyone to go "WTF?" in the middle of this chapter.
Here goes.
A blazar is a phenomenon in outer space caused by matter falling into a super massive, ginormous black hole (think of our sun's mass, then multiply it by ten and raise that number to the tenth power, and do it again. That's how 'super massive' is defined.) The black hole consumes dust, light, and occasionally, a star or two. This fuels the already collapsing star into a bigger, more dangerous event and it shoots off two jets of ionized gas, a.k.a., plasma. The jet travels at anywhere from 95 to 98 percent of the speed of light because it carries solid particles (plasma, bits of dust, gamma radiation, etc), and matter cannot travel (well, at least in this dimension) the speed of light. The smaller the quasar, the faster the jet goes. If anything is perpendicular to the blazar when it reaches the right conditions, and the right distance away, it will be annihilated. Plasma jets, if relatively far away (think millions and millions of light years), appear to be only star light when it reaches us. It's relatively harmless, except for low levels of gamma radiation. And we all know there's nothing quite like gamma radiation on a rainy day.
Good grief, I've been watching too much Discovery. I didn't have to look any of that stuff up, which says a lot about me. (ducks bricks thrown by audience) Yes, I'll go get a life.
Meanwhile, enjoy!
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The next morning dawned bright and early, sending splashes of warm golden sunlight across the room. The light glinted off of two bodies; one white, the other blue. Nightshade stirred, stretching in the berth and smiling as the remnants of the previous night flooded her processing center. Ratchet grumbled quietly as she shifted and he tugged her back to him, burying his face in her neck armor. She sighed gently and turned to face him, tracing his chest with her fingers.
"Five more minutes?"
His optics flashed on when her hands started drifting lower, her glossa and lips tracing the seams of his chest armor. He let out a soft moan, shuddering at her touch…
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Ratchet collapsed beside Nightshade, his chest plates sliding shut with a hiss. She kissed him again, grinning goofily at him. He just cracked an optic open and shot her a mock glare. Her tanks rumbled quietly, reminding her that she needed to refuel.
"Good morning to you, too," she said, nuzzling his neck. He merely grunted and draped his arm over her, intent on going back into recharge. It was the only slaggin' day he got to recharge a little extra this week, and he was going to enjoy it. She only giggled and made her way over to his private wash racks. A hot shower and good scrub down would complete her perfect morning… As she stood in front of the massive cabinet in the room, trying to select a cleaning solution and brush, Ratchet snuck in behind her, intent on rinsing off before Nightshade hogged the room for the next three hours...and used all the hot water.
Nightshade jumped as she heard the water jets turn on. She peeked around the partition.
"Hey, I was here first," she pouted, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
"No peeking, you dirty femme," he shot her a slow, disarming, and, abso-fraggin'-lutely delicious little smile that had every chip and circuit in her body flaming.
"I was here first!"
"You were in the room first. I was in here first," he said, gesturing at the tile beneath his feet.
She ignored him and stepped into the small room, shoved him out of the way, and soaked in the hot water. She applied liberal amounts of cleaning fluid to her brush and started scrubbing away at the nooks and crannies in her armor. Nightshade grinned up at Ratchet cheekily, drawing her hands across his chest slowly. He caught both of her hands in his and kissed her soundly, leaving her weak in the knees and breathless. Ratchet used his hips to pin hers against the wall and he pulled one of her legs up, wrapping it around his waist…
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After parting ways with Ratchet at the med bay, Nightshade ambled over to the rec room to get some energon before meeting up with Chromia and Elita to continue her training. The room was empty and quiet. She grabbed a cube and filled it up, flopped down on the giant couch that took up half the wall, and turned the television projector on. Scorponok came scuttling out from underneath one of the seats, hissing angrily the entire time. He used one small claw to whack her leg hard.
Whoops.
Someone had forgotten to put Scorponok back into the med bay. She picked him up and set him in her lap. His anger dissipated upon being deposited in her lap and he chirped happily, reaching for her nearly empty cube of energon. She allowed him to drink his fill before setting him back down on the floor. The doors opened. In came Elita and Chromia, both wearing matching grins on their faces. Nightshade was instantly on her guard. While Elita could occasionally pull 'innocent' off, Chromia could not. In fact, the words "Chromia" and "innocent" were not to be put on the same page, much less in the same sentence.
"Good morning, Nightshade," the both chorused, grins crossing their faces. Nightshade felt the happy bubble in her chest pop – the two femmes were plotting something, she just knew it. Or maybe Red Alert's paranoia was rubbing off on her…?
"Good morning," she said politely, scooting over so that the two females could join her on the couch. The femmes' looks of innocence turned into eat-slag grins. Crap. They knew something they shouldn't have known. Nightshade immediately began wondering if there was anything that these two didn't know.
"So…"
"What?"
"How was it?"
"How was what?"
"Interfacing with the Hatchet – ow!"
Nightshade had socked Chromia on the arm…hard.
"Just ignore her. How was it?" Elita said excitedly.
"I rather enjoyed it," Nightshade said, trying to keep a hold on whatever remained of her dignity.
"I'll say," Chromia said, leering at Nightshade. And then the rest of her dignity vanished as Chromia nudged her in the side, winking at her.
"What?!"
"Ironhide's rooms are right next door to Ratchet's, darling," Chromia said, a smirk on her face.
"And?"
"Ironhide and I didn't recharge at all last night, thanks to you two-" Here, Elita clamped a hand over Chromia's mouth. Nightshade groaned in absolute mortification. Chromia then bit Elita's hand, hard. Elita yelped and jerked her hand away, cradling it against her chassis. Then she delivered a well aimed smack at the back of her head. However she missed as Chromia ducked, a grin on her face.
"Did you do the thing I taught you to do?"
"Yes," Nightshade said, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red.
"I figured as much. As loudly as he was screaming your name…" Chromia trailed off at the glare Elita gave her. Nightshade buried her face in her hands. What did she do to deserve this?!
"What exactly did you teach her how to do," Elita asked, looking and sounding thoroughly scandalized.
"The same thing I taught you when you first wanted to interface with Optimus," Chromia said, a dirty little smile on her face. Elita's mouth formed into a perfect 'o' shape and a blush spread across her cheeks. Chromia laughed heartily. She loved corrupting her friends…
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Nightshade only glared at the two femmes sitting beside her. Oh, how she wanted to kill them both… Chromia managed to stifle her giggles. How Elita kept her dignity intact with a friend like Chromia was beyond Nightshade. The crazy femme had a filthier CPU than Ironhide, for Primus's sake!
A sudden shrill alarm pierced the air. Elita and Chromia jumped up, their laughter gone instantly. Nightshade joined them in their mad sprint to the command center. Why, she did not know, because there was no way in Pit they would get her out in the middle of a battle with a gun.
Nightshade finally made it into the command center, wheezing slightly as her winded intake systems tried to supply enough cold air to her systems. Chromia and Elita were both standing in the room with Optimus and Prowl, gaping up at the screen.
A silver and black mech was sitting at the helm of a ship. He bore no faction marks.
"My name is Defensor and I am Neutral. I seek asylum for myself and my crew, Optimus Prime," the male said, his voice low and strong. His amber optics glittered in the light from the screen, expectantly awaiting an answer.
"I will send a representative to your ship once you land. You may land at these coordinates. Any weapons you may have must be surrendered upon your landing. Failure to do so will result in retaliation," Optimus said, his voice steady. But on the inside, he was in turmoil. Neutrals? In this part of the galaxy? Things must have gone badly back on Cybertron and her surrounding systems if Neutrals had responded to the message. Normally, Neutrals wanted nothing to do with either faction, preferring to set themselves up and try to rebuild their lives. Then again, it had been the Autobot and Decepticon's fault that the AllSpark had been destroyed, so the anger from the Neutral part of the population was understandable.
"Of course," the male said, bowing his head, "but I also bring news, of both the good and bad kind."
Optimus felt his spark lurch at the sudden pain in the mech's amber optics. Something had gone spectacularly wrong…
"What happened?"
"Optimus Prime, Cybertron no longer exists."
Optimus froze, clutching at the seat in front of him. The femmes and other mechs in the room responded similarly, going stock still. Cybertron was gone? There was no chance of them going back?
"What happened?" How he managed to speak he did not know, but Optimus's thoughts were whirring away. He had left superior Autobot forces behind to protect Cybertron…he'd left his best men…how could something like this have happened? Had he been wrong in leaving the planet?
"It wasn't because of the Decepticons," the mech said, "No, it was far from it. A star collapsed in a nearby galaxy and a blazar formed. The plasma jets eradicated everything in their path. By the time we learned that Cybertron's orbit would cross the jet's path, we only had two months to get off of the planet."
"A blazar?" Optimus was in disbelief. After all that Cybertron had gone through, after the wars and the pain, a simple plasma jet had destroyed the planet? Optimus's gaze dropped.
"Yes. I feel safe in saying that Primus himself would have been proud of us. We worked together to build ships – the Autobots, Neutrals, and Decepticons – and get ourselves off of the planet. My ship was first to launch. I have not been able to make contact with any of the other ships. We've been separated. However, they know the coordinates of this planet. And we're on our way," Defensor said, a sad little smile on his face.
"But how? How did you get the decepticons to work together?"
"We simply met in the middle of a battle – Blackarachnia was standing in the sky, staring up at the plasma jets. I was trying to get my group out of the way of the fighters. Ultra Magnus was standing beside us, and then we realized that fighting would do us no good. In two hours, we had managed to stop the fighting and give orders that all able bodied soldiers were to work together peacefully and build ships. We tried to save everything that we could, but…"
"But?"
"The great libraries of Iacon were destroyed by the fighting. We weren't able to save much, maybe fifteen percent of the books. We weren't able to save any of the art galleries," Defensor said sadly, fidgeting with the controls. The beautiful works of art that once graced the majestic planet were gone – they would have to start all over again, and try to reproduce what they could.
"The decepticons here on this planet have no idea what just happened. We need to talk to them. Primus," Prowl breathed, his hands splayed on the table in front of him. His intakes were heaving at the mere thought of his home gone – destroyed. But there was a chance for peace…
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Ironhide and Ratchet were both sitting together when the both felt the anguish through their bonds. Ironhide was up and out of his seat in seconds, trying to get to his mate. Ratchet followed shortly, panic starting to seize his systems. In less than thirty seconds they reached the command center. Elita was sobbing quietly into Optimus's chest, the red and blue mech not much better than her. Chromia sensed Ironhide and ran into his arms. Ratchet swept Nightshade up into his arms, begging to know what was wrong.
Optimus lifted his bleary optics. His normally strong and mighty voice shook as he spoke, his anguish barely kept in check.
"Cybertron was destroyed."
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Every single mech and femme in the base was sitting in one of the hangars. Something had to have been seriously wrong - Optimus would never leave the base open for attack for something trivial. Murmurs of worst case scenarios began to run through the crowd – had Megatron been resurrected? Had Cybertron been taken by the decepticons? Was Optimus retiring? Was Chromia pregnant with the spawn of Ironhide?!
Optimus stood. He didn't speak but the entire crowd fell silent as they took in his haggard appearance. It seemed that Optimus had finally broken.
"My friends," he began quietly, "I have bad news and good news."
The room was silent. Crickets could be heard chirping outside of the open windows. No one noticed two casseticons sitting near one of the windows, so entranced were they by Optimus. Laserbeak sat preening a little while Rumble was watching the autobots.
"Cybertron has been destroyed," Optimus managed to get out. For one moment in time, there was nothing but silence as the meaning of his words sank in. Then there was a dull roar, starting to rise in volume as mechs and femmes voiced their concern. Their concern was for the families and businesses and lives they'd left behind. Many mechs and femmes were starting to despair. Were their bonded dead?
"But there is hope. Defensor, a Neutral, has managed to make contact with us. The survivors are on their way and they are bringing their ships and supplies."
"What about the decepticons?"
"They threw their faction insignias away a long, long time ago. Perhaps we can do that here," Optimus said quietly and hopefully.
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Laserbeak all but fell off of his perch. Rumble's optics were as wide as they'd ever been. He stared bug-eyed at the leader. They decided to go back to Starscream and let him know about this interesting new development. However, they didn't quite make it back to base. Frenzy, having sensed his brother nearby, alerted Barricade, who alerted Prowl, who'd nearly gone ballistic. The two casseticons were rounded up and locked in separate cells.
Prime strolled down to the brig, tense. Rumble and Laserbeak were both silent when he entered. They expected torture or something, but not what the leader did next. He simply unlocked the brig doors.
"Before I let you go, I want you to take a message back to Starscream."
Rumble, who'd been poised to run, fell flat on his face at the comment. Laserbeak chirped and nodded his head to show his understanding.
"Tell Starscream that…that since Cybertron and the AllSpark are gone…Tell your men that they are welcome on this base at any time but they must defect. Otherwise…we have direct orders from the government to hunt down any decepticons that do not comply," Optimus said, not able to meet Rumble's optics.
Optimus then scooped up the two casseticons and carried them out of the base and set them free.
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The decepticon's reactions were no different, except they were just a wee bit more violent. A few punches were thrown before Starscream silenced the group. He looked down at the ground and spoke slowly, his optics narrowed just a hair.
"Prime has issued an ultimatum: Either we defect or we will be hunted down."
There were loud growls and protests. Some swore that they would not be hunted down like turbo-foxes, and they'd fight until their dying day. Some of the mechs wisely kept quiet. Those were the ones that did not want to die for something pointless. The war was over. Cybertron was gone. So was the AllSpark. There was no point to this crazy fight anymore. They would have a chance to rebuild their lives, settle down, start family units…
Starscream glanced over at Sound Wave's body. The traitor that had infiltrated the autobot base had done the job very well. He smirked. The source hadn't given him its name, but the source was good – he'd had access to everything from communications codes to medical files.
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Defensor left the ship's helm in command of one of his subordinates and made his way into the living quarters of his ship. He paused to speak with a mech and made his way to the medical bay. Upon his entrance the medical officer of the ship smiled up at him.
"Back so soon?" His voice was soft and teasing. He only grunted and shot the medic a mild glare, to which he laughed and turned, going about his duties. Defensor crouched down and started clicking softly.
A tiny green head poked out from underneath a table. The rest of its body followed and it started clicking energetically, waving its tiny fists around. Defensor sighed softly and tickled at the sparkling's sides.
"Soon, little one, we'll have a home again. You and the other little ones will have somewhere to grow."
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Oi, what a wrench I've tossed in there, eh?
(ducks from second volley of bricks)
(peeps back up from behind desk)
I kinda wrote another random story, just to practice my uh...writing skills (we'll just call it that, lol)...it's a Prowl threesome. Ask for the link and you shall recieve. :O