Fire of Youth

Chapter 23

*Lemme clarify something: the "memory echoes" the Serpent Trine experienced are not unique. Many of Shockwave's clones suffered from them to some degree once they'd physically and mentally matured; it's just that it some cases they're far more vivid and amplified, and occur more frequently. That means incidentally that Ravage has suffered from them as well, and Predaking will eventually. The reason for the echoes will be explained eventually. It has to do with copied genetics, coding, and another thing that might make this whole thing a little clearer, because Cybertronian cloning is very different from organic cloning. Just be patient ;)

*Also, here's a little glimpse at the enigmatic Sunwarden! :3

Note 1: Despite what you might think, there aren't actually very many Preds left alive today on Earth. Remember Ravage's reference to the "Dragon Hunts"...

Bit of a lull chapter here, but with ramifications. Also, kinda funny.


Katelyn and Adrian were busy re-painting a badly banged up Jeep. One of the newbies had been assigned as a driver and had taken a few of his buddies for a joyride into the desert the night before. The Jeeps could handle a beating, but only so much of a beating. The damage wasn't terrible but it bore a number of dings and scratches from the rugged terrain nearer the bottom of the basin. In Katelyn's opinion the driver had been a little tipsy, while Adrian believed them to just be inexperienced. Anyone totally sober (or with enough behind-the-wheel time) wouldn't get a sturdy Jeep this beaten up when driving it around.

"Man. We have aliens – freaking aliens living on site and we're stuck fixing Jeeps?" Adrian said in an annoyed sigh from beneath the Jeep. Its under-carriage had gotten the worst of the joy ride, and some hoses were mis-aligned. "I mean, w-what about that, uh – the giant bird guy? Grimwing? I mean, why won't they let us help with that? He's a machine. We can repair a machine. Totally. They're letting Mark do it!"

"Probably because it's way past our pay-grade?" Katelyn hazarded matter-of-factly. Her little brother didn't seem to understand that there was a gigantic difference between an ordinary Earth vehicle and a hyper-advanced alien from another planet. The difference gap was only made wider when the alien did not have a vehicle form but an animal one. A bird or a dragon was a far cry from a Jeep or a Honda.

Adrian looked ready to offer a retort when a very weird noise met their ears that was steadily growing louder. It sounded like someone had flipped a car onto its hood and was dragging the poor vehicle across the pavement. The mechanic in him was nearly outraged. Who in the blue Hell would drag a perfectly nice car across the pavement and get it all scratched up? Was the person totally mental? Then it struck him that no human could pull that feat off unless they were, like, the Hulk or something. There was only one source that could be dragging a car or whatever was being dragged: a Cybertronian. For all he knew another Cyber was the one being dragged.

"Oh my..." he heard his sister say.

Then she burst out laughing.

The younger man shimmied his way out from under the Jeep frantically to see what had gotten such a response from his sister. The sight he saw coming towards the hangar nearly floored him from laughter.

It was Infernus, but he was coming in tail-first. Bulkhead was beside him, grinning and mud-stained. Held in the white dragon's fanged jaws was the foot of another white alien with green and red accents whose white owner wasn't quite so pristine as that of the dragon merrily dragging him along. Like his green friend he also bore quite a lot of mud on him. It looked like the white alien had basically given up on getting his foot out of the Prime's mouth at some point along the way. Though they couldn't see his face, the way his arms were held signaled he'd given up trying to fight back on the way over – his helm was resting on his folded arms like someone who was just plain bored.

"Ya done?" the white mech griped.

The mech's foot was released, plopped onto the ground. Infernus turned and sat on his haunches like a dog expecting a treat for having performed a trick.

"You dragged him...all the way here?" Katelyn gawked. A pause. "By his foot?"

Infernus bobbed his helm in confirmation. Bulkhead sniggered only to have his friend glare up at him as he pushed himself to his pedes. He thus stifled himself with effort. 'Jackie had complained and fought back for about two minutes straight before resigning himself to his fate with a huff of irritation. Infernus hadn't even given him the dignity of walking the rest of the way. He'd just kept on happily dragging a seasoned Wrecker by his ankle, relishing the fun of it. It had taken a lot of Bulkhead's will power not to laugh the whole time.

Adrian cracked up all over again. "Dios mío, dude! Seriously? You're frigging hilarious! And here I thought one of you guys was torturing a car for God knows what reason!"

The look of baffled, somewhat insulted shock Infernus gave him in return to that statement was utterly priceless. That was the look of someone asking himself exactly why someone of his species (or any species, really) would torture a poor innocent car that had been minding its own business. Shaking his helm as if to put that mystery to the back burner for the time being, the white dragon shifted back to a mech. No matter how many times the aliens shifted forms it still left the two Gonzales's speechless. It was just so seamless!

"I got a favor to ask of you guys."

The twins exchanged mischievous looks. What they were thinking at that point in time and space was anyone's guess.

"Does it have anything to do with the mud?" asked Katelyn smilingly.

Infernus looked at her. He blinked. "You're good." Then he explained: "Yeah. Ratchet kind of sort of...well, he banned Bulkhead and Wheeljack from coming back inside until they get cleaned up. Doesn't want them mucking up his equipment and also doesn't wanna annoy Mr. Uppity Bryce by getting his hangar all muddy. So could you give 'em a hose down?"

"Totally!" Adrian affirmed with a wicked grin. "Come on you two. Let's get you over to one of the wash bays."

Adrian darted further into the long hangar, Katelyn right on his heels. The Prime watched them set up one of the empty bays, watched as Bulkhead transformed and rolled into the space. Katelyn busily got everything up and running and soon the big lug was soaked and sudsy. Wheeljack milled to one side, still looking bored and irritated. One digit tapped against his folded arms. Infernus almost smiled. Ratchet and he had never gotten along, and the doc could be a little exacting at times when it came to certain things like neatness. Personally he was on Ratchet's side in this argument. If it kept the military happy, kept the equipment clean, and kept the humans from possibly getting sick then it was a win-win situation for everyone. In his opinion Wheeljack was just being difficult because he liked to be difficult.

Requesting the two Wreckers report back after the hose-down, Infernus made his way back to Hangar E. He wanted to see if Grim's visor was done yet. Last he'd checked it had very nearly been.


WEST-CENTRAL PERU, ANDES MOUNTAINS
MOUNT YERUPAJA
LOCAL TIME: 8:00 P.M

It had been many moons since Razorplume had last visited his slumbering eldest brother. He had had no need to visit him, and Sunwarden mostly kept himself in deep power down to conserve his Energon reserves in the cold and to better connect with the Old One's faint life force. But now he had something important to tell him. The great serpent did not know how his brother would react on hearing the news of the Builder's resurrection efforts. His belief – their beliefs – concerning the dead had shifted around during the course of their stay on this world. At first they had all three accepted it. But after Divebomb's hunting and demise, Razorplume had begun to question it.

What right did a mere mortal have to assume the Old One's eternal role of creating? What right did anyone have to pull the dead from their rest?

Below him the snowy peaks of the Andes swept by. On reaching the tallest peak he circled down carefully to its upper base and dropped his holographic illusion. Fresh snow crunched beneath his massive trods. A few minutes of searching soon revealed a hidden pressure latch which he activated. The grinding of cold stone was heard nearby. Razorplume found the entrance to the hidden bunker around the north face of the mountain, flying further up its length, the now opened doors emblazoned with the insignia of the sun. He was still astonished no one had found the place yet, but perhaps the mountain being incredibly difficult to scale by the humans had something to do with it. Possessing no wings of their own in conjunction with sharp winds that kept small aircraft away prevented them from swarming the peak and finding the bunker. Only the Inca of old had known exactly where to find both the unsealing switch and the bunker itself. When they had perished, their secrets had gone with them to the grave.

Content no one had disturbed his eldest brother's meditative slumber, he slunk inside. He called out over the Trine bond to give Sunwarden fair warning. He recieved a faint flicker in reply. This did not worry him. It was not weak due to him dying. He was simply older, weaker than he was. He had been the first serpent to be cloned, and among one of the very first beasts the Builder had made. Resources to clone such massive beasts had not been easy to come by, so there had been a gap. Razorplume had come next, and Divebomb last. So far as they knew they were the largest Predacons to be cloned, and the only true titans Shockwave had brought back.

He made his way deeper into the bunker. It was warmer inside than out, but there was still a distinct nip in the air. When he reached the main chamber he was met with a sight he'd grown accustomed to. A large serpent colored pale Vegas gold and silver with rich emerald accents lay coiled in the middle of the chamber, air intakes slow and steady. Other colors like vibrant ruby and sapphire dotted his frame and adorned his feathered crest. Black designs resembling tears sat under his shuttered optics. In the past he had been far more resplendent, but age and time had worn down his colors to pale ghosts of their former glory.

Razorplume knelt and lay a hand on the slumbering serpent, gently shaking him to wake him. There was a faint hiss of air and his optics flickered open, revealing them to be a very pale yellow.

"Brother? What are you doing here?" Sunwarden hissed curiously.

"I bring news, Sunwarden."

"News of the Builder's renewed efforts, I assume?"

The younger serpent blinked. "Yes. But how – ?"

"I sensed your outrage. Something upset you."

Razorplume gave him a smile: "What, did your dream-visions not tell you what happened then?"

"Not that, no." Sunwarden said, shaking his helm. "The Old One does not always show me what I wish to see. He shows me what I need to see. If you would do as I do, and let yourself reach out to the dimming light, he will do the same for you. It will help him heal. He might be able to help you come to terms with what happened with Divebomb."

That was something he had said many times. Spiritual as he was, he had reservations about surrendering his borrowed spark to sleep for the rest of his life in order to keep a dying deity alive. Frankly he wasn't even certain such a strategy worked, however convinced Sunwarden might be. He was still young, had a whole life to live. He didn't want to throw it away. Still, he was always curious to know whatever it was his oldest brother saw in his dreams. At times they were almost prophetic in nature. Though they weren't always clear, he had come to respect Sunwarden's ability.

"What did you see this time?"

Sunwarden did not answer right away. His gaze became unfocused, like that of a priest lost in a trance. He stayed like that for almost a breem. His pale yellow optics brightened. Then he spoke at last:

"I saw darkness, a great expanse of shadowy nothing. I could not even see my own hands through the murk. I felt fear, overwhelming and all-consuming. But as I watched the dark skies above erupted with fire white fire. I could not see the source right away, blinding as it was. I did see the shadows begin to retreat from its presence though. Black was replaced with shimmering sand and blue sky. The nothingness was replaced a vast desert. I looked up then and saw it a great dragon of white fire, wings stretched wide against the heavens. It screamed, the very land and sky shook with thunder, lightning split the sky, and the last of the shadows fled. I did not feel afraid any more. I knew who it was then."

"Who?" Razorplume demanded. This was not like his usual visions. It was surprisingly specific.

The eldest serpent looked him squarely in his optics and said:

"The one whose scalding fire brings life and death. The one whose voice can bring sorrow or joy. The one who has become a beast to protect those who are not. He is the ember that never extinguishes. He is the Old One's new host. He is Infernus, the Great Fire of Hope and Vengeance. I ask you this: Should you meet this white drake at any point, do not attack him or anyone with him. Give him instead this message: Fire's kindling must reignite the Old Flame."

Sunwarden's optics paled again. His helm drooped to the floor. His optics shuttered.

"Go now. I tire. But remember what I have said."

Razorplume bowed his helm respectfully and rose. He would think on his words, certainly, for they seemed infinitely important. That last phrase of his though – "Fire's kindling must reignite the Old Flame" – what in the name of Onyx Prime was that supposed to mean? And why was he supposed to give it to this white-fire beast, this "Infernus?" That was a very unusual name for a Predacon to have. Something about that name reminded him of something, yet he could not put his digit on what. Sunwarden had been very definite this time around while still somehow astonishingly vague as always he was about his visions.

He turned in blind confusion to question Sunwarden. But he was already deep in the realm of dreams once more. He bowed his helm and put a hand over his chestplates in an old gesture of loyalty.

"I will give it to him should I ever meet him, brother, even if I do not know when or how or why I should meet him. As your brother and your keeper, this I vow."

He left.


"There. We're clean now. Happy?"

Ratchet turned to see both Wreckers standing on the hangar's threshold – and mercifully mud-free. Wheeljack was scowling at him, Bulkhead on the other hand was grinning broadly. He had to admit it was rather handy Infernus had hit it off with the occupants of the auto-shop. First Marcus, then Neal, then Adrian and Katelyn Gonzalez. And by association with the head mechanic basically everyone else.

"Quite." he said.

When no further invitation came they entered the hangar. For once, Miko did not pounce on her returned guardian with her usual abruptness. She was busy with Jack who was occupied in trying to help her understand basic algebra. Just because Jasper High School had been blown to pieces along with the rest of their town didn't mean they had an excuse to lag behind in their education. Raf was watching Ratchet work on Grimwing's visor, staying out of the way of the medic's busy hands. It was very near complete, with only the fine wiring needing to be set up before it being hooked up to the owner. Grimwing would then no longer need to be careful when in broad daylight. But Ratchet's hands with were simply too large for such fine work. It was times like this he wished he had a mini-con partner or some of his finer tools.

'Wait.' He mentally slapped himself. 'I still do.'

"Rafael, would you mind assisting me with this?"

The tween looked surprised but said he'd be happy to. So the two set to work. Ratchet gave instructions, and Rafael followed each one to the letter. Infernus turned from his conversation with Bluestreak (which, per the usual order of things, was a bit one-sided) to watch. He knew the squirt was good with his laptop (Pit, he'd helped download a freaking virus into freaking Soundwave) but he'd never really thought he'd be good at this sort of thing. Raf was more of a hacker than an electrician. But with Ratchet's instructions he seemed to be doing real well. At this point he considered the doc might as well just take the kid on as apprentice or something. Couldn't hurt. The two were already pretty close.

Infernus felt a pulse of sadness from the Matrix, but there was fond pride in it, too. Optimus had no doubt the boy would do great things in his lifetime, though he would not be present to see them himself. The young Prime's pleased, curious expression was now touched with sadness of his own. As a specter there were many things Optimus could no longer do or touch. All he could do was use the optics and audials of his successor to see and hear the world he'd left behind. He could not come back. There were rules in place. He'd felt the breeze when Grimwing had been at the grave, but that could've been just coincidence. He hadn't mentioned hearing anyone talk back. Still though – he'd felt...something there.

Man. And here he'd though being a ghost had a ton of perks. Phasing through walls. Possessing people. Levitating objects. But he supposed that being stuck in a sacred capsule thing had something to do with removing those perks. Still. Didn't make it any less sucky for him. What, they couldn't let him out for even five minutes? There was no way something bad could happen in that short little time span.

'Does it get boring there? Like, do you get bored being a ghost and all?'

He was very happy to hear his predecessor give a gentle laugh. He realized then he'd never heard the Prime laugh or even chuckle while alive. It was an amazing sound though, like listening to the great ringing bells of an old cathedral.

'No.' he answered. 'I am not confined to the Matrix. Remember Amalgamous's words: it is a gateway. A crossroads if you will. We may come and go as we please. I have many lost friends I wish to speak with, and I have only reunited with a small number of them. You are my main priority at the moment, Smokescreen. Only when I know you have no immediate need of me do I leave. I trust Amalgamous, Alpha Trion, and Vector to watch and assist you at those times.'

'Thanks. T-That means a lot. That, y'know, you're taking time off your little siesta to help me. Still.'

A pulse answered back, no words accompanying it. It kind of felt like someone had just given him a metaphorical friendly hand on his shoulder. He smiled a little.

"Anyone know where Blue is?" he asked.

"Blue got a little bored and went out to stretch his wheels while you were gone." Miko provided.

Oh boy. There was only one other place Bluestreak knew contained friends on site, and that was the auto-shop hangar. Putting Adrian and Bluestreak in the same space as each other would probably make reality implode on itself because it just couldn't handle the sheer amount of adorkable spazziness. He'd really tried to keep those two separate. Funny he hadn't heard him or seen him on his way back. Hm. Maybe he'd gone out for a drive in the desert instead? He hoped the little Miata could handle it. The terrain could get a bit rough out there despite how flat it looked, and he didn't want him so far from base. Something might happen to him out there, outside the safe confines of Area 51. There was a lot trouble he could get into or meet out there.

His fear was unfounded when Bluestreak's vehicle form appeared in the distance, racing towards the hangar with his usual speed. The young gunner screeched to a stop and transformed with his usual boundless energy, bouncing over to Infernus excitedly. Miko laughed. Blue sure looked eager about something. Looked like he was holding something in his hands, too. Weird. What did he have stashed in there?

"Look what I found just outside the compound! Look!"

He held up his hands to reveal what at first might be taken for a coil of very thick rope or cabling. On closer examination however Infernus's blue optics went round in shock, because the "rope" was moving. One end lifted up to look at him through tiny, beady little black eyes. A mouth with two wicked fangs opened and unleashed a hiss. The other end flicked up, shook quickly, and emitted a strange, rapid ch-ch-ch-ch-ch.

"Can I keep it?" Bluestreak begged. "I think it likes you!"

'...Are you fracking kidding me right now?' Liege deadpanned.

'Language.' chided Solus.

Ratchet turned from his visor-building to look at Bluestreak's cupped hands. On noting what was in the gunner's grasp he let out a colorful curse of "Sonofaglitch, SNAKE!" and then tried to shield Rafael from the serpent's view. He had seen this sort of snake around the mesa in the past. They had occasionally found little secret ways into the missile silo from outside to escape the heat of the desert. Though they posed no threat to his kind, the Autobots had become far more vigilant against them once they had taken on the three children as charges. Diamondbacks were not the sort of snake one kept as a pet. Their bites were lethal if anti-venom were not injected soon after.

Amalgamous simply started laughing his aft off. The Primeling could almost hear him collapsing to the ground. He heard someone give a sigh.

Infernus stood there looking at the creature for upwards of a minute and a half, not seriously believing what he was seeing. It was a snake. Bluestreak had brought a snake back. Of all the things to have found out there in the desert, he just had to bring a snake back. And one with a bad attitude no less. Even as he watched it tried to clamp its fangs into Bluestreak's digit. When that strategy failed it hissed again, rattling its tail.

"Uh, Blue. That's a rattlesnake." Jack clarified. "That thing has the capacity to kill a human in minutes by making us bleed internally. You mind dumping it back outside – away from the compound? I'm not sure if the clinic here has a spare stock of anti-venom lying around and I'd rather not get bitten and find out they don't."

The young gunner looked off-put by this order to release his new pet but did as told and drove off. He returned within the breem, snake-less.

"The next time you bring a foreign object into this hangar warn us." Ratchet snapped. "Especially if it's an animal that has a toxic bite!"

Bluestreak winced. "Sorry."

He shuffled a pede contritely. Infernus felt a little bad for him. Maybe that was something they should've done already: teach Blue about the deadly and not-so-deadly wildlife of the Nevada area. If he'd thought of doing that before now this whole incident might not have happened. He approached him.

"Hey. How about I help you brush up on the wildlife before I head over to Scotland, yeah? So you know which ones are okay to bring back and show me? And that are okay to have around the humans because, y'know, they won't kill them or anything?"

His sibling's expression brightened. He nodded and smiled. "Okay!"


Location: Decepticon Warship Nemesis

Ravage padded his way through the dark, violet-lit corridors of the Nemesis. He did not bother cloaking himself from the Vehicons and Eradicons he passed despite their being leery of him. Any venomous remarks or black looks he got from them were very quickly stifled or stopped when he drew near, the drones not knowing he had heard them from quite a ways away. They were scared of him, he knew that. And they rightly should be. If they had been Autobots he would've shredded them already for their disrespect. As it was, he knew better than to attack fellow Decepticons. That would only anger Lord Megatron and irritate the Builder, and he wanted to remain in their good graces.

He passed through another corridor until he reached the doors to a certain launch bay. The motion detectors picked him up and the doors hissed open. He padded in. It had been a day or so since his first conversation with the nameless Draconian. Surely by now he would be in better shape. They had a medic aboard who was supposed to be tending to him, and he'd had well over a solar cycle to do so. Draconians themselves were notorious among Predacons for being able to take one Pit of a beating and still come out swinging. That was why many Predakings, the alpha rulers of their ancient society, had been Draconians in the distant past.

A soft screech met his audials: "Ravage? Is that you?"

He approached one of the hangar bays. The bronze Draconian was there all right, and looking better than he'd saw him last. He didn't look so beat-down or exhausted now. Or on edge. Good. He could talk to him now.

"Mornin'. So. Mind tellin' me now what got you all beat up the other stellar cycle? Or are you not gonna tell me?"

The Draconian hissed and answered:

"The Grey Flier. He is the one in charge of my combat training. He is...rough in his methods. Unnecessarily so. I try to tell him that such roughness is unneeded during the training sessions, but he cannot understand what I say to him. You You know the language of the others. Could you teach me so I may tell him? Or could you tell him for me?"

Ravage offered a fanged grin. Wow. This guy didn't even know how to use short-band yet? Onyx. He must really be young.

"Might be best I teach you. Always best to tell someone off yourself. Getting someone else to do it might indicate shyness, and that's not a trait looked on favorably by our kind. The weak and timid never survived in the old times. Only the strong and brave did. And the ruthless. But our vocalizers don't work like theirs. I'll teach you the language and you can use short-band to talk to 'em. Works just fine with me."

The Draconian bowed its helm to him in acceptance. He said he would appreciate the hound's efforts. There were many things the Builder had not taught it yet, many things it still did not know.

"But before we begin, might I ask you some questions? You have been on this world for a long time. I have only been here for a few deca-cycles at most. At least that is what I gather from the Builder."

"Sure." Ravage sat on his haunches. "What do you want to know?"

"What were the Dragon Hunts? You mentioned those in our last encounter."

And so Ravage began to tell the nameless beast what he knew. He listened with rapt attention, never once interrupting the hound's flow of words that only the two of them could understand. Ravage felt a bit pleased to have someone as a student, and a good listener at that. Such patience would make for an excellent soldier. When he was done, the Draconian's yellow optics were wide in disbelief.

"You mean...there are only a few of us left on this world? That we were hunted en masse to the grave?"

"So far as I can gather, yes. You mean to tell me the Builder didn't mention this to you? Not even a passing remark?"

The Draconian shook his helm. No. The Builder had not mentioned this extermination to it. Frankly it wondered if he even knew of the fate of his children. Perhaps the thought of someone slaughtering them in droves had never occurred to him? They were a mighty race after all. They were not easy prey. And Ravage did not know who the killers had been?

"No. I stuck to my turf. Didn't get out as much as some other beasts. But when a couple o' pals o' mine stopped paying me little visits I started to question why. That's what I've been doing these past centuries. I've been trying to find them. I found one. Mech named Sabrehorn. Dead. I still need to find out what happened to Flare-Up and Cave-In. Never managed to get across the water though. Tried to contact Nightscream to give me a lift. Never responded."

"Perhaps when we are drawn to those regions where they lived I may assist your search? I would very much like to meet others like me."

"Don't see why not. I'll have a word with Lord Megatron. You'll need his permission."

"Thank you."

"Now, let's start off with the basics of short-band radio..."


Author's Note: Bit of a lull chapter here. Don't worry. Scotland's next, then Texas. And BOY am I gonna have a blast with those...;3