Lizard: Happy Mother's Day! Don't forget to tell your Mamas that you love 'em. And to any mother's reading this: You're awesome! I have the utmost respect and appreciation for all of you! Ahem, now back to the story...(which is really why we're all here)
So...my computer ate this chapter. And my inspiriation with it. But I have prevailed! And rewrote the whole stinking thing!
Anyways, here we are, probably two chapters after this. And then...
It's over.
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!
This chapter contains drama and...Topliner! Yes, the failure of a Prime's son is back. And... I don't have much else to say so...onward, ho!
Disclaimer: I only own my OCs and the general plot thingy. (e-GAD! There's a plot?!)
Ratchet, Prowl, Ironhide, Chromia, and Bluestreak entered the communications deck the next orn after an uneventful off-cycle to see that, for the first time, Echoclick appeared honestly busy.
He flitted around as best he could, tapping keys, flipping switches, occasionally hitting a console with a growl of frustration. His optics flickered apparently with a constant feed of databursts and comm. links. They hesitated and Shatterflash, their guide stepped forward to catch his attention.
"Echoclick?" she called.
The mech jumped and nearly fell, but managed to reel around and face them. The stress became clear now that they could really see his expression, though he tried to cover it up quickly. He smiled slightly, putting a hand at the side of his helm to indicate a silent conversation for a moment, before his optics returned to their regular, steady glow.
"Sorry, didn't hear you come in, thank you Shatter," he greeted warmly, nodding at the femme to let her know he had everything under control.
She nodded a bit uncertainly but bid her leave and hurried away, seeming to have her own work that needed doing.
"I've got some stuff going on, you can-"
Echoclick cut off and gave them an apologetic grin as his optics once again started flickering brightly and he spun back around to toy with a console. The others exchanged nervous glances; tension was high on board the ship. Even Topliner, who had passed them briefly in the hallways, seemed more uptight than usual. Something was going on, and it was big. Bluestreak wandered over to one of the windows and looked outside to see…nothing. The clearing below was empty. No 'bots milling about, no patrols checking in, no officers giving orders. It was just…blank.
"Where is everyone?" he blurted, then clamped his mouthplates shut and gave the preoccupied mech an apologetic look.
Echoclick chuckled faintly and held up a hand, indicating he would answer in a moment. He nodded briefly, apparently at something said over his comm. link and shut it off.
"Sorry. Uh…everyone's getting ready," he answered vaguely, still toying with some controls.
"For what?"
The young mech looked up at Bluestreak's innocent, yet haunted optics and cringed. This just wasn't right.
"For…." He groaned and grabbed a chair, sinking into it, "The Decepticon fleet is coming. We didn't expect them quite so soon, you were all supposed to be gone, but…you'll get home, I know, and when you do, you can fix all this."
He looked up at them with an almost desperate hope in his optics, like that of someone who knew it was over but who was in denial of their fate. There was a moment in which they all once again looked at each other, then directed their attention to Prowl, passing leadership to him.
The tactician dimmed his optics briefly and when they brightened it was with the sharp, planning light he was known for, "What do we need to know?"
Echoclick looked relieved and dove headlong into a rapid history, "The Decepticon's gained the upper hand in the war with their first full-blown attack, which happened exactly four deca-orns after the Day of Primus during your time. In that attack the head of Special Operations, Jazz, was deactivated, as were the Autobots Inferno, Cliffjumper, and Smokescreen. Optimus Prime himself was irreparably damaged forcing him to spend the rest of his life-cycle confined to office work and his injury eventually caused his deactivation," he ran a hand over his faceplates, pausing to gather his thoughts, "The Decepticons attacked Iacon, disabling the entire Autobot force. If you could just make sure that didn't happen, you might have a chance. Just...don't let them win."
They all exchanged another glance, recognizing his piteous grab at hope for his race.
Ironhide spoke up, "Which o' these Decepticons do we need ta look out fer?"
Echoclick shifted and twisted his faceplates in thought, "Megatron, obviously, his second in command and the leader of their elite trine, Starscream, isn't one to be trifled with, and neither are his wingmates. Soundwave can read minds and has so many cassettes it can't be healthy, and Shockwave is just crazy. There's the Constructicons, don't get too close to them, the triple changers, of course, and…"
Ironhide rolled his optics, "How 'bout, is there anyone we don't need ta worry 'bout?"
Echoclick actually had to think about that, "Well…not really. They're all battle grade, and most have some kind of mental issue. So really…stay away from all of them as much as possible."
They all stared at him.
"Then…how are we supposed to win?" Bluestreak asked, looking thoroughly puzzled.
"Uh…Well, like I said, they're all bonkers, so maybe that'll help you. That and you have a better leadership system; theirs is…wrought with trouble. You'll figure that out quickly."
Prowl tilted his helm, "What do you mean by that, exactly?"
Echoclick rocked his head back and forth, "Eh, let's just say they make treachery an art form. Starscream is the master of it, but I think the Combaticons took some lessons."
"I see," Prowl hummed, looking thoughtful, "This still is sounding like a rather unpromising affair."
"I know but…you'll do it," Echoclick assured, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as well, "You're…you're Prowl for Primus' sake, and Ratchet and Ironhide. You're the Prime's top mechs, Optimus Prime's! And Bluestreak and Chromia, Pit you are our Commander, and you're just…Chromia!" his desperation shifted to an almost childlike faith, "We grew up knowing that you…you guys were the top, the best of the best. If anyone can fix this…it's you guys."
The mechs and femme all exchanged several startled and uncomfortable looks. Echoclick ran a hand over his optics, apparently trying to clear his over-stressed CPU.
Ratchet broke the silence, "Kid, just because we were so important to you then doesn't mean we're invincible."
The moment it left his lip components, he and everyone else knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Echoclick froze, hand still covering his faceplates. The medic stiffened, realizing what he had just said, but it was too late.
"I know," the young mech murmured in a rough, static-laced voice, "I know you aren't…invincible, because I watched you die."
"I'm sorry, that was-wait, what did you just say?" Ratchet stuttered, staring blankly at their host.
Echoclick looked up slowly, "I. Watched. You. Die," he tilted his helm, expression blank, "You were treating my leg right after the bomb hit me. Two shots, one to the shoulder, one directly to the spark. You collapsed, and I couldn't do anything. I was there when Hound was killed, when my sister deactivated, when my own creators slipped offline in the medbay. And that's just the beginning. I know no one is invincible, I've seen it proven again and again, but that doesn't change what you can do."
The medic started to speak, but Echoclick stopped him.
"I know what you meant, and I'm not offended. Just remember that you don't have to be invincible to win a war."
"Well hey there folks!" Topliner's boisterous voice boomed into the communications deck.
Multiple pairs of optics swiveled to stare at him as he swaggered in, grinning widely. All his stress and tension was either gone or skillfully concealed and he smoothly hopped up on top of an old, broken console.
"'Liner, what are you doing here?" Echoclick asked tiredly.
The newcomer made a low whistling noise, "Shatter sent me. I'm your bodyguard for the orn, in case things, ya know, go to the Pit."
Ratchet choked, "You're a bodyguard?"
Topliner glared sulkily at him, "Yes, I am capable of fighting believe it or not!"
"By falling on your opponents," Echoclick snipped from his workstation.
Naturally this lead to even more good-natured banter around the room, Topliner's infectious personality easily lifting spirits, and the time passed quickly. Echoclick drifted in and out of their conversations, busily rapping away at monitors and the like most of the time. Everything seemed relatively peaceful though, and the stress they had all been feeling started to fade. That is, until Shatterflash's unmistakable voice crackled through the ship's general comm.
'All personnel proceed to stations immediately. Repeat: All personnel to stations immediately.'
Topliner looked up at the speaker on the wall, "That's okay, we're already there!"
Echoclick threw a piece of scrap metal at him distractedly, "Coming down to the wire, folks," he huffed.
Topliner glared but shrugged it off, "Cat and Shiv are almost done, they'll call soon."
"Soon enough, though?"
That wasn't answered, as at that moment the general comm. crackled again, this time with a sharp mech voice.
'Decepticon alert! Decepticon Alert! All units to battle positions! Prepare for attack! Decepticon Alert!'
"Wow, I forgot what his voice sounded like," Topliner murmured thoughtfully.
"Who?" several asked at the same time, except for Prowl and Ratchet, both of whom recognized the voice from recent meetings.
"Red Alert," Echoclick vented, turning around with a tired expression.
Bluestreak tilted his helm, listening to the alarm that was still echoing through the ship, "What's he talking about."
Topliner shifted uncomfortably and flashed a helpless look at Echoclick. The older mech gazed out the bay windows, narrowing his optics. After a moment he lifted a hand and pointed. Everyone shifted there attention to the indicated point, and after a moment they realized what they were looking at. A blur high in the planet's atmosphere. A ship.
Echoclick explained softly, "They're here."
Lizard: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN! (again)
So, I'm sick as a dog and feeling lazy so this chapter is short. But the next one (I believe) will be long. So I'll make up for it then.
Thank you all for reading and please leave a review if and when time permits!
LIZARD OUT
