Chapter 2

The Traxian Heatsinks stretched for miles . . . colorful sand dunes interrupted by the occasional low plateau of metal. The sand dipped to form deep concavites in places, marking the sinks that gave the area its name.

Ultra Magnus pointed them out to Knock Out, warning him to avoid them at all costs. "The sinks form where there's a break in the underground plate. Dangerous, and useless for our purposes."

The smaller mech nodded, fidgeting as he fingered the harness strapped around his chassis. In his other servo he clasped a scanner, and he had a bag stakes looped over his arm. "And you're sure this is safe?"

"I can easily pull you up if you start sliding or falling," Ultra Magnus said.

"Easily" proved to be an exaggeration. But by bracing his legs and hauling the rope hand over hand, Ultra Magnus was able to pull the medic to safety when he got too close to a sinkhole.

"This is humiliating," the medic mumbled as he was dragged up to solid ground.

Ultra Magnus didn't answer. He couldn't do anything about that.

Knock Out proved more focused and efficient than Ultra Magnus expected, but their progress was still slow. Walking became an ordeal when you sank into the sand with every step. The unstable ground often forced them to backtrack and the stakes, which were supposed to visually mark their trail, would not stay upright. Ultra Magnus put them back in his supply pack. The mechs relied on memory and the scanner's readings instead.

Toward late afternoon they took another break, sitting on the hot sand. Knock Out took the harness off and dropped it to the side, frowning at the rub marks on his finish. "How much longer?"

Ultra Magnus capped his hydration pack, considering. Tired mechs were careless mechs. "Another hour. Then we'll camp."

"Another hour," Knock Out sighed, not quite a grumble. He stood up and stretched. "Well, Commander, I think—"

There was no warning. The earth rumbled deep beneath their pedes and the dune simply drained from under them. Ultra Magnus dug his fingers into the sudden wall of sand shooting up in front of him, but there was nothing solid to hold onto. As he plummeted, Ultra Magnus caught glimpses of Knock Out frantically clawing his way upward, gaining and losing ground by turns. Magnus, falling backwards, had no such chance. The large mech hit the ground hard and the world went dark.

"Commander?"

Ultra Magnus sat up with a grunt, sand streaming off his blue and white chassis. Grit caught painfully behind his plating as he opened his optics. Knock Out had outraced the sand, it seemed. Two red eyes were peering down at him from above. Far above.

"Commander?" the red mech repeated as he leaned over the edge of the sand pit, his tone cautious.

"I am uninjured." Ultra Magnus noticed something blue and sticky coating his back and frowned as he detected its source. "The energon packs in my backpack have burst, however."

"All of them?"

Ultra Magnus took off the travel pack and looked. "Most of them."

"Ah."

There was silence for a minute, broken only by the skitter of loose sand down the steep slopes. Ultra Magnus could feel the red optics staring down at him.

"Do you still have the harness?" the Second-in-Command asked finally.

The rope was long enough, but the sports car's frame wasn't strong enough. Or, as Knock Out put it, "You're too heavy." Ultra Magnus gave up on the idea of the medic hoisting him out after the third attempt, and the third instance of crashing back to the bottom of the pit in a slide of sand. He paced the bottom of the sinkhole, his engines giving a steady, displeased rumble. Above, Knock Out still watched. The setting sun made his chassis glow orange, even the parts that were actually grey. But the light didn't reach into the pit.

Magnus wasn't about to panic. It was a waste of time. "Knock Out. Go east to those hills we crossed. Climb the highest one and attempt to comm the others."

"All right. And if I can't?"

"Then head back towards base as quickly as you can. Continue comming until you contact them."

"Hmm . . . But it will take them days to get here . . ."

"It's possible that Wheeljack and Bulkhead have finished reassembling the ground bridge components retrieved from the Nemesis."

Knock Out's eyebrows arched. Ultra Magnus kept his neck craned back to meet his optics. He'd said "possible". It was possible. If unlikely.

"All right," Knock Out said at last. And with that simple statement he withdrew.

Ultra Magnus listened to his muffled footsteps getting further and further away. When he could no longer hear them, he sat down.

He counted the remaining energon packs. Then counted them again. He still was not about to panic. There was no point.