Fire of Youth
Chapter 31
*Note to Guest: Oh my lord. Hold your horses. I got a life outside this writing you know! XD Now that college is back in swing I got homework again, yo. Chill.
Final chapter for the Scotland/Ireland saga, so this'll be a pretty long one. Miko's gonna play a bit of a larger role in this than she did in the original episode.
Also, a heads up for what's coming: I'd love to explore further, but I feel it's time to get a move on. I might do a one-shot to focus on Nightscream, Flare-Up, and Cave-In rather than involve them in the main story, since it'll be purely the Decepticon side of things. Next we're heading to Japan, and that'll be all. I focused on the national origin of the three kids (Raf – Mexico/Spain. Jack – America. And Miko – Japan). I involved Ireland/Scotland/British Isles due to a major plot point that I'd like to play with. I need to get on with the main story. Season 3 can't go on forever! :P
Growling, Ravage dragged himself out of the depths of some body of water. The teleport had left his navigation programs in a whirl, but thank Onyx his sense of smell still worked despite the stench of the lake he'd just crawled out of. He still hadn't the faintest idea where that simpering pup Tag-Along had dropped him though. It certainly didn't smell any different than the Hebrides Bluffs, but it was hard to pick out unique scents when his nostrils were clogged with lake water. The smell was just overpowering.
Slag that pup's quick processor. Rendering a Canipid scent-blind was a good way to land them out of the field for a while, for smell was their most powerful sensory asset.
He shook himself to free more droplets from his hide. Ravage then tried to activate his cloaking mechanism only to find to his dismay that the water appeared to have left it intermittently glitchy. He cursed his bad luck. He'd been in water before and the glitching wasn't exactly unexpected, but this was exactly why he tried to avoid bodies of water (and heavy storms for that matter) in the first place: they left him vulnerable. If history was any line of hope then the mechanism should start working properly once it was free of water and had had a chance to dry out. In the meantime he could get his bearings by contacting Soundwave. Once he knew where he was, the silent mech could get him a groundbridge back to the Bluffs, and then he could teach Tag-Along why he'd earned his name.
[Silent Listener, this is Ravage.] he began. [I need location data.]
Catscratch awoke with a hiss of pain. Instantly she began coughing from the dust and debris in her vents. Shuddering, she forced it out despite the scream of pain her body gave in answer. She was hurt; didn't take a genius to figure that one out. But pain was a good thing to wake up to: it meant you were still among the livin'. And the heat tucked carefully beneath her breathing quietly meant the lass was still with her, too.
Her peridot optics unshuttered with care to find the world around her dark. She tried to move but found it nigh impossible to. The cave in had pinned her in an uncomfortable position, and she was fearful of triggering a second collapse. That might make this situation worse. The little Felioid didn't need to smell to know she bore some wounds from the fallen stones. The pain alone told her that. A sniff at the air made her spark drop in her chassis: the tang of iron. Blood. The lass must've gotten hurt, but unless she could move her body to see she had no idea just how bad the lass's hurt was. Regardless, she tried to shift into a better position, keeping the lass beneath her at all costs. She could take the damage. The lass couldn't.
But she couldn't move. The boulders were just too heavy for her.
Her spirits lifted when she heard the roar of engines, the sounds of transformation, and the thudding of heavy, wide pedes. Lighter pedes echoed behind them: Tag-Along, Ramhorn, and Moonhowler. Thank Onyx. Maybe their combined strength could clear all this rubble and get her an' the lass outta this tight spot. But they also had to be careful not to wake that radge Draconian. She and the Seelies might as well as be scran for that fire-breathing blighter. Onyx – the moment she found a friendly Draconian would be the moment she sprouted wings.
*In...we're in 'ere.* Catscratch managed to get out over short-band.
[Oh, thank Primus you're alive!] Bulkhead answered back. [What about Miko and 'Jackie?!]
*She's 'urt a mite, but she's still breathin'. No idea 'bout yer pal. Nae smellin' lightnin' from any breaches. Must be alright.*
[We'll start clearing the debris, then.] the rule-stickler Magnus told her. [Try not to move. And keep Miko sheltered.]
*Aye. Will do.*
She heard them spread out. The sounds of rubble shifting met her audials in moments, but it was over where the entrance to the cavern had been. She heard Tag-Along and Ramhorn jump up and tip-toe across the top of the debris pile. Moonhowler apparently was hanging back for whatever reason, whining softly, but she didn't really blame him. The mech held a distinct aversion to Draconians ever since Stand-Alone's death, so seeing one now was a nightmare made real. Honestly, she was worried if the brute woke up – would Moonhowler be able to help fight it? He was a gentle spark to start with, but that old wound still festered. Even to this solar cycle they had no idea how Stand-Alone had come to be so close to Sizzleslash's cavern; she and the Seelies had avoided that place like the Rust Plague ever since the split. None of them dared go anywhere near it, not then and not now. With her out of the way things were relatively peaceful.
At last the rubble above her shifted and moved. As the last of the debris was taken away, light came in, framing Ramhorn's body and helm. A hand reached down but she shook her helm, growling that the lass was hurt.
"Get 'er out first."
Tag-Along and Ramhorn worked together until a good-size space had been cleared. Catscratch stood to her full height then and, reaching under, gingerly plucked the lass up in her jaws, passing her to the mottled green Canipid. Now she could see her wounds – and she counted her lucky that they weren't any worse. Even still, the sight of the crimson oozing from her cuts made the Felioid a little nauseated. She didn't even need to look to know that Bulkhead's expression was one of horror – his inarticulate cry spoke volumes.
She gave a sharp hiss. "Taggy. Get the lass inte the ship. She'll be safe in there."
Tag-Along whined, nodded, and readied to warp away. Bulkhead tried to rush forward to stop him, anger and suspicion broiling in his field, but she stopped him with a glance.
[Taggy's just puttin' 'er on yer ship, Autobot. Relax. Let's get yer pal out.]
The look on the strict one's faceplates actually made her nervous. Black anger simmered there, a fire about to burst outwards into a roaring blaze.
She and Ramhorn bounded over to where the white Wrecker had been buried and set to work a second time. Boulders were moved till ivory was seen through the cracks. At that point the mech did the rest, heaving himself up and out of the rubble. He brushed off some of the debris – and Magnus was on him in an instant, titan's hands around a cabled throat.
"Even a first-cycle cadet knows not to use a grenade in a confined space!" he snarled. "Your recklessness nearly cost Miko her life!"
Catscratch frankly shared his opinion. Back arching and audials pinned, she issued a scathing hiss in his direction. Someone as reckless as Wheeljack apparently was needin' of a good thumpin' on the helm. Maybe that could set those neural pathways aright again.
"I was aimin' for the mouth!" Wheeljack shot back. "I didn't expect the thing to react at the last second and botch the plan! Thing ain't supposed to be that smart!"
Magnus's grip on his throat slackened, but not by much. The bonfire wrath in his countenance chilled to a glacial glare.
"Always expect the unexpected, soldier. If you had told me of the plan over private line perhaps this could've been better planned. A civilian would not have been harmed and our location would not have been compromised beyond what it already was. You had best hope any incoming Decepticons cannot gain access to my ship, and that Tag-Along can defend her if so."
"...You realize she took out an Insecticon and some troopers with just a goat, right?" deadpanned the Wrecker. "That kid's got more bearings than you do."
The glare the larger mech gave was inches away from being truly murderous. Bulkhead shoved himself between the two before things took a turn to the violent side. Honestly, he was wondering how in the heck he was managing to keep them them from gouging each other's optics out. Primus, what he'd give to have Jack or Blue here. The Wrecker wasn't sure how much longer he could play the go-between. To be brutally honest, he was pissed at 'Jackie too – that sort of reckless act wasn't his style anymore. He was a seasoned veteran, not a rookie, and he cared about Miko even if it was in a different way than he showed.
But...accidents did happen he argued. 'Jackie wouldn't have hurt Miko on purpose. Never.
"Magnus has a point though, 'Jackie: this could have been avoided if you'd just let me and him in on the plan."
Wheeljack snorted: "There wasn't time."
Frowning, Magnus turned his focus on the metal ram. In a tone of voice as level as he could manage he asked if Ramhorn could show them where anything of interest was in the cavern. He had to admit shock when the little beast nodded, snorted, bucked, and headed for the semi-collapsed tunnel he and Bulkhead had come in through. Catscratch scampered over to meet him; Moonhowler lagged behind, tail to the ground and audials flat. The mech still didn't feel safe letting a Decepticon lead them around, but the little ones were being helpful to them despite their loyalty. Protecting not only his soldiers but a native from an attack – that had been the last thing he had expected from someone still "loyal."
And so they followed the little beasts deeper into the mine. The tunnels began to look better maintained the further in they went. For a mine with only a few exterior guards it was surprisingly well kept.
"Is this mine one you protect?"
[Aye.] Moonhowler said in his soft voice. [Nae many mines on these isles. Ground nae good fer them. This is ours. The other, Scorchmark's, is nearly dry. There're other deposits, but they're small an' 'ard te get at.]
"Probably why the 'Cons are more focused on this one." Wheeljack grunted. "Easier pickings."
"Are there any...remains here?" Ultra Magnus queried, feeling a bit brunt. He wished there was a better way to word a question like that.
He wasn't surprised when he got cold glares and no answers. Yet another fascinating implication of Predacons: they held extreme reverence for the dead, far more so than his own kind did. If Razorplume of Mexico was any indication for the race as a whole, they would kill to defend their dead. Grimwing himself had shown reverence for the natives he had slain by giving them a proper burial – even pleading for their forgiveness. If they continued fossil hunting they would need to show greater respect (should there be wardens or protectors) or risk lethal complications.
Out of nowhere the scraggly grey Canipid lurking by Magnus's heel struts whined and quickened his pace, bounding ahead. The other mini-con beasts were quick to follow his lead. None of three mechs heard anything themselves but they went after the little beasts regardless. The last time any one of them had behaved this way a bronze dragon and a Welsh hell-hound had come barreling in to kill them. Trusting the senses of a beast over their own seemed like a reasonable idea.
Tag-Along whined as he placed Miko on the ground. He sorely wished there was something softer and warmer he could lay her on than cold, hard metal. Oh, his territory for some blankets. And human medical supplies for that matter. He kind of doubted a Cybertronian ship would have human bandages tucked away in a compartment somewhere, but he made a frantic search regardless. Nothing, not even something that could be used as one.
The only thing stopping him were the pedefalls and voices outside. Again a threat was issued:
"If you try to warp away, Predacon, Soundwave will simply track you down again. So come out while your friend and I are still feeling generous."
The mottled green Canipid growled softly. That voice was belonging of a caimiléir like Vigordrainer. But he knew the threat was an honest one. He couldn't run; that would just delay capture. Eventually they'd just barge into the ship. Surrender would give the 'bots the wrong idea. So what do to?
A hollow groan made him spin. The lass was waking.
"Tag?"
He came over and gave her a sniff, whining. She seemed grateful to see him. Reaching a hand out she used his snout to push herself to her legs. Lass wasn't letting her wounds get to her. He liked that. Strong, this one. No wonder that modern liked her so much.
"I'm waiting, Predacon..."
He whined again and cast a rapid glance to the hatch-ramp. He gently grabbed her by her shirt and tugged her away from it. This time she didn't struggle, but she did question the act.
"Whoa, whoa! What's going on? Trouble?"
Tag-Along bobbed his helm. Again he cast a rapid glance at the hatch-ramp, this time growling.
"Don't tell me. 'Cons?"
He nodded again.
Miko swore. "How many?"
He used his paw to ghost-etch the number "five" onto the floor. Then he etched out "dog" and growled as savagely as he could, paw swiping at the air. Miko swore again. The Gwyllgi. Great. She should've known warping the thing away wouldn't deal with it. Slender-'Con had probably just 'bridged him back so the thing finish mauling them to pieces. Maybe it was a good thing the Gwyllgi and his buddies were focused on Tag-Along; she wasn't sure the 'Bots could handle 'Cons and the Gwyllgi at once after a cave in.
She was slagged if she'd sit here as a hostage though. Wreckers didn't sit pretty and wait for back-up. They called for clean-up.
"Can you get me up there?" she asked, pointing to the alien dashboard.
Tag-Along's helm bobbed. She didn't struggle when he grabbed the neck of her shirt and warped in his dizzying emerald flash. Now where she wanted to be, he watched as the lass scrambled around looking for anything that might offer aid. Every time he heard the soldiers speak outside he couldn't help but whine in anxiety. But his hopes rose a mite when when the lass sported a wicked grin out of the blue and hit one of the strange ghost-keys. A sound came, one he was unfamiliar with. Then:
"Ultra Magnus?" asked a youthful voice.
"Stick-in-the-mud is busy right now." Miko answered. "I need some help here, Smoke. We're in trouble."
"Miko? What is it? Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
"Is there a 'bot there that knows Magnus's ship controls?"
"Uh, I mean...ship controls are pretty universal. I don't see how helping you with that –"
"It's a very good idea." snapped the lass in a bout of short-temper. "I'm trapped on his ship; I got 'Cons and a jerkhole hellhound camping outside, and everyone else got buried in a cave in with a bronze dragon. I need a way to see if they're okay and to know who exactly is out there so me and my friend can deal with 'em. I gotta get these campers cleared so the guys have a path."
Tag-Along whined. This was not the wise choice. The wise choice would be for him to turn himself over; maybe then the Decepticons would leave the lass and her allies be. They were here for him – they had made that plain. All he had to do was walk out and save everyone a boatload of trouble. And yet...he didn't know for sure that they wouldn't order him to attack, and if they did that would only sour his relations further. He was in hot water enough.
"Alright. Um. I'm not sure how you plan to get up on the control panel, but look for a holo-key with a kinda sunburst-y looking design on it; just below it there'll be some cyberglyph writing. It's a command key so it'll be larger than the input ones. That'll trigger a local scan."
It took only moments for the lass to find the command key in question. A touch later and the scanner lit up with six red blips surrounding the ship on all sides. Farther away, nearer the Bluffs and on the move, were six more blips, an additional one remaining immobile. Tag-Along's spark lifted at that. It seemed the Draconian had yet to wake and resume the hunt. Of the thirteen signals, four bore identifications beside them: Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Ultra Magnus, and right outside was –
"Starscream." Miko spat the last name out like a curse. "Perfect. Been wanting to blast this jerk into scrap."
Tag-Along issued a low growl. He remembered the Grey Flier. The Grey King's adjunct was a sparked schemer with a notorious reputation for impulsive acts of violence, and he was a backstabber to boot. He respected him the least out of all Decepticon officers. He should've guessed it was him just from his voice. If attacking the Grey Flier labeled him as a traitor then so be it. That mech deserved some bite marks on his behalf. The Grey King might even let the attack go; though detached as they were from Decepticon forces it didn't take a genius to assume the Grey Flier's schemes extended to his alpha.
He nudged the lass and whined, red gaze determined.
The two shared a nod.
"Get Raf for me if he's not there already." she said to the voice. "Have him look into Knocknarea, Ireland. And have him search up any three headed dragons from Ireland."
"I could do that. Raf deserves a bit of a break." This was a new voice. Young, definitely male and a bit older than the lass's own, the voice bore a different accent. American without a doubt.
The lass smiled a little. "Thanks, Jack."
"No problem. Give 'em hell, Miko."
Tag-Along had to give credit where credit was due. Despite her injuries the lass wasn't backing down from a spat with creatures three times her size. The Autobots had taught her well the value of Misneach.
Miko honed in on the weapons controls. Tag-Along readied to warp.
Starscream was getting impatient. Not only did that Draconian have yet to show up, the warping beast in the ship refused to come out.
'So much for Shockwave's assurance that Predacons are loyal and brave.' he thought with twisted contempt. 'And Lord Megatron wants to use them as soldiers. Pah.'
At least the strange Welsh hellhound Ravage was loyal, though he wasn't a fan of his threats – or his questioning of his orders. His ability to speak had come as unpleasant surprise. It was irritating that he was more than happy to follow Megatron's or Shockwave's orders, but did not seem to be happy to do the same for him. He was Lord Megatron's second! He deserved respect! Shockwave had even said they respected the highest ranking members of social groups! Where was the respect he was owed?
"My patience has limits, Predacon!" the Seeker snapped. "Come out now or I'll have my armada blast that ship to ruin!"
At his heels Ravage snarled, both sets of red optics becoming slits.
*Tag-Along and his ilk are cowards and traitors, Starscream. They can't be trusted. We should not bother with them.*
"That's Commander Starscream, beast!" he corrected in a harsh snarl of his own. "Megatron has plans for the teleporter you call Tag-Along, and I will not return empty-handed!"
Ravage snarled back at him, fangs bared, but he did not attack. The Seeker couldn't help but smirk. The beast knew his place, and woe to the fool who disobeyed or failed their Lord.
"Commander!" one of the Armada prompted. "Tachyon readings inside are spiking! Target's getting ready to warp again!"
*Puh. That fool thinks he can fight all of us on his own?*
Starscream nearly laughed in agreement. Perhaps the little beast could manage on its own, but not even the Draconian had been able to pierce the Apex Armor. One hit from it would crush the mini-con flat, and then they'd haul it back to the Nemesis by force. And even if it ran they would keep after it until it tired. Teleporters were powerful individuals, but even they were not gods. They had limits. He knew that from experience.
Ravage tensed and focused his attention on the ship. Starscream himself tensed when he heard the ship power up – and moments later its guns began to glow.
"Hah! You think those paltry weapons can stop me, beast?!" he hollered.
The black Canipid's narrowed optics went round. This wasn't Tag-Along's doing. Little fool didn't know how to activate a ship's power core, much less properly use its weapons. Frankly, neither did he. But now that the ship's vents were working he was catching the distinct tang of iron-rich blood, faint but detectable. There were two targets on the ship, not just one.
The Seeker's hand went to the Armor on his chest – but the hand never met it. A brilliant emerald flash sent the Armada reeling as Starscream felt something barrel into him, claws and fangs digging into his chest. By the time his optics calibrated he felt the Armor wrenched off violently, and blinked in time to see a mottled green dog the size of a young calf growling and backing away, the Armor clasped in its jaws. It took him a moment to compute what had just happened.
"What – You – Give that back!" he shrieked.
The dog, Tag-Along, growled, audials flat. He continued to back towards the ship.
"Orders, Commander?" another Armada soldier asked.
"Shoot it!" he spat. "No one steals from me!"
The Armada opened fire on the mini-con beast just as the guns began to blaze. Two were struck down by heavy plasma blasts before their shots even reached the ship. The rest transformed and took to the skies with their officer. Starscream, offended, targeted the mini-con alongside Ravage, but with him warping around with no foreseeable pattern it was hard to aim, much less hit him.
"Corner him! Corner him!" the Seeker screamed.
Gunfire peppered the ground, forcing Tag-Along back up under the ship. Ravage rushed to meet him, and the two hounds resumed their vicious fray. Tag-Along got some swipes in when the falling hatch-ramp distracted Ravage, and he forced him into the crook where it met the ground. The black hound didn't let that stop him, and lunged in time to offer a bash of his paw to the mottled green hound's jaw. The Armor was sent flying a few feet away to the right of the ramp. Stunned, Ravage pressed his advantage and leapt, pinning the smaller beast beneath him. He made to drive his fangs into his neck as Tag-Along's body began to glow, and was mere inches away when –
CHANG!
A small stone, a pebbly really, struck Ravage on the side of his helm. He turned to see the human from the cave standing there, looking the worse for wear. Cuts and bruises dotted her tiny, fleshy limbs – one cut in particular was just under her lip, and another was by her darkened brow. Her eyes were as serious as a hunter's in the grip of the frenzy. At her side were clenched fists.
Tag-Along exploited this brief moment of hesitation on his part and warped away into the ship. When he returned, the Armor was missing from his jaws. He issued a bark in the girl's direction and she scampered back inside, yelping as gunfire pelted the ramp. Starscream and his Armada honed in on the opening to the ship and dove for it like mad hawks. Starscream made it inside with two Armada soldiers, the rest continuing to bombard the ship. He made to surge after the girl to protect her, but Ravage knocked him to the ground before he reached the ramp. Once more was the smaller beast pinned, and once more Ravage lunged for his neck – and succeeded this time around.
His victory, however, was short-lived.
He was about to gouge the smaller beast's belly open when a trooper was sent careening down the ramp to impact him, forcing him off his prey and trapping him beneath it. Worse, one of the fliers was downed by another shot from the ship. Tag-Along disappeared inside the ship, and the remaining soldiers were tossed out as if by a titan. Starscream followed moments later, Tag-Along clamping down on the Seeker's wing as if rabid, his body already heavily dented from what looked like...fists. His neck leaked aquamarine.
Ravage snarled and struggled free as the still-functioning soldiers rose with him. The Seeker did manage to dislodge his attacker and once more made for ship's interior. The Apex Armor rushed out to greet him like it was possessed. What happened next he could barely fathom: the girl from the caverns, outfitted with the Armor, proceeded to make short work of his allies through skillful use of martial arts. Some were thrown, some where pounded into the dirt. One had his wing torn clean off. Ravage simply stood there while it happened, shocked, impressed, and wrathful that such a tiny creature could best creatures so much bigger and better trained than her.
Wrath took over. He charged at the Armor and leapt – but two hands caught him in a vice grip. He struggled to no avail.
"Don't think for one second that I won't do what I did to Hardshell, Fido." she hissed. "Stay away from my friends if you know what's good for you. All I have to do is squeeze."
Ravage tensed when she made good on her threat, but he kept his pained whine inside. Pressure began to build on his sides as her hands tightened around him. Proud as he was, he knew when he was facing tough prey – prey too tough for him to take down on his own. And with the kid not answering his comm. link and the Armada ready to flee...
Snarling in rage, he bowed his helm in surrender.
"What are you doing, beast? Fight back!" Starscream snapped.
But Ravage's helm remained bowed. Humiliation burned through his body. Predacon society demand you show submission and respect to those stronger than you, and this girl was stronger than he'd ever thought possible.
"Same goes for you, yellow-belly!" came the retorting threat. "Get out of here before I send all of you to the scrapheap!"
Holding his side and spitting a curse at her, Starscream transformed and took off with the troops who could still move. The rest simply lay there, battered and broken. Ravage felt the girl's grip loosen and she put him down. She warned him to "walk away and never come back."
Audials flat, he did as asked, running off in the direction of the fleeing fliers. They may have lost Tag-Along, but they had others just as valuable waiting for them on the warship – others who were not treacherous cowards, and another, a Draconian femme, would soon be healed and ready for battle once they extricated her. And they still had more fossils to secure. While the foolish Grimwing and his Autobot allies scrambled to keep up with their movements they would be busy amassing their army.
At her feet, Tag-Along issued three loud bays that reverberated across the hills despite his neck wounds. A howl followed suit. That had felt...refreshing.
"Come on. Let's go get the others."
He bobbed his helm in answer. She led him back inside the ship.
Ramhorn and his pack mates had led the Wreckers into the deepest section of the mine. Now, they were busy collecting just a portion of the stockpile the little creatures had been guarding for so long, the crystals gathered in small carts and mounds. They had made it plain to them they were only to take what they needed to help their wounded, nothing more. Each was still loyal to the Decepticons, so they could not relinquish the mine to them unless they wanted lethal repercussions. They could explain away the attack to Megatron as simple territorial behavior – but not surrendering the mine. There were limits.
"But..." Catscratch hinted. "You guys ever need a little, I'm sure we could find a way te smuggle some without getting them blighters suspicious..." She winked.
Bulkhead blinked. He still didn't get these guys. They followed the 'Cons but they were willing to help them? They were more like double agents than actual loyal 'Cons.
"That's...nice of you." he managed.
The feline femme shrugged. "Not like we'll burn through all this. We do nae need as much as ye, and we'll make sure the 'Cons do nae get greedy. We could spare some if ye need it much."
Moonhowler's audials pricked up then. He let out a raspy bark and growled. If Magnus's mental map of the mine was accurate, the growl was directed at the collapsed chamber where the Draconian lay buried. The hound was signalling trouble.
"We got company." Catscratch clarified. "Yer friend is waking. Ye need te move."
Magnus nodded. He opened a channel back to the hangar, requesting a groundbridge to their location. The 'Cons already knew they were here – it wasn't as if using a 'bridge to transport the Seelies' generous gift would draw any more attention. Precious time would be lost hauling it back to the surface and the ship.
A portal roared open in the center of the chamber; he swore he heard Wheeljack snicker when Catscratch yowled in surprise and darted behind Bulkhead's pedes, hissing at the portal. The old Commander almost smiled himself. They really were isolated out here if the sight of a groundbridge could startle them. One by one the two small carts were taken into the portal, the Seelies standing guard in the chamber with audials on he swivel for trouble. It wasn't much by any means, but it would stabilize their dwindling stores for a time, and the feline femme had hinted they might smuggle more their way. A rebel that one – but she was a rebel he could appreciate rather than scorn. Out of the group, she might make the most reliable double agent – something to discuss further with Prowl and Infernus when they returned. Having a double agent could prove invaluable to them.
Ironic, he mused, that one so small might be the one to tip the scales in their favor.
The three mechs returned from the drop-off, ensuring the carts were placed back in their original positions, and the portal snapped shut behind them. Moonhowler issued another raspy bay, but this one sounded lighter. The mechs were about to draw their weapons when Catscratch smiled.
"I think yer ride's 'ere."
Even underground Magnus heard the distinctive roaring rumble of his ship. Odd. He hadn't called it, and Miko was too small to reach the controls – and he would never believe Predacons as isolated as the Seelies knew how to fly a modern vessel, for Tag-Along had yet to return to the mine. Unless...had an enemy managed to breach it? The mini-cons didn't seem to think so. Either this was a double cross or else they knew through their senses it was manned by an ally.
He almost jumped when an emerald flash occurred, revealing Tag-Along standing there with a vicious-looking neck wound, but he barely seemed to pay it any mind. He barked once, and jerked his helm towards the exit tunnel.
*Lass's waiting fer the three o' ye. Hurry!*
Bulkhead seemed reluctant to the leave the little ones for the 'Cons, but each stood their ground with brave faces.
"Go!" Catscratch ordered. "Do nae let 'em bring back Scorchmark!"
Ultra Magnus left in a whirl. Time could not be wasted. But his soldiers lingered.
"Stay safe, guys." Bulkhead well-wished.
The feline femme offered a wry smile. She assured him they would be fine. If they could handle a long-lasting civil war among their own kind they could handle re-integration.
"But how 'bout ye reign in on the explosive impulses, eh?" she said, aiming at Wheeljack. "Strategy would do ye some good."
The ivory Wrecker had the grace to wince. Cat had a point. That whole thing could've been planned better.
"Deal."
Transforming, the Wreckers raced after their Commander. A roaring scream echoed in the caverns, spurring their exit.
Though they did not turn to see, the Seelies stood together in the central chamber, strong and confident, their tiny bodies backed up against the walls.
Honestly, with all that had taken place on the isles, finding Miko in the Apex Armor aboard the Iron Will was not perhaps as startling as it might have been otherwise. Her piloting his vessel was easily explained away via her own word and the communications log – she had simply asked for guidance from headquarters. That she had strategically thought to not contact them and potentially have their personal lines compromised was perhaps the most surprising part of her story. The young female was not one for strategy from what he knew of her.
She moved to the side after relinquishing the Armor, pouting a little that he wouldn't let her co-pilot. But he did give her the task of contacting base for a report on Knocknarea, though only once they were free of the Scottish mainland. It was not much of a wait, but the Commander was not willing to take undue recalled the girl, through Ramhorn, had mentioned a beast buried at that location: three-helmed and hot of temper. He did not right away remember such a beast, but he had been more concerned with Scottish lore. He had not thought for a moment that the old burial mounds of the isles housed anything more than organic remains.
The line connected after self-encrypting, and the eldest young male's voice answered back.
"Miko! You're okay, right?"
"Fine." the girl replied as her hand unconsciously covered one of her many cuts. "So you get anything?"
"Yeah, actually. Knocknarea is an old burial mound on Ireland, thought to be a passage tomb, and the people there for some reason refuse to excavate it; some kind of superstition about it, but I couldn't find what. The other was harder, but there is a three-headed dragon in Celtic lore called the Ellén Trechend. It doesn't say that the thing is a dragon, but it definitely has three heads and it definitely ripped Ireland a new one in the past. Thing was only stopped when a poet-hero killed it. And –"
"That, right there." Miko interrupted. "Ramhorn and the guys mentioned something called the Dragon Hunts, where 'bots went around hunting Predacons. That's why they're mostly dead. It was sort of like a gigantic witch hunt: looks like a Pred, kill it with fire."
Ultra Magnus tossed her a look. That was something he hadn't connected right away. Many of the stories concerning dangerous beasts of lore involved them being slain by a hero of that culture, but there was no way an ancient human could slay a beast like a Draconian. It was more likely those "heroes" were Cybertronians, the humans reinterpreting them to better comprehend them. That would explain why so many of the beasts were now dead. Time hadn't killed them, nor had the elements or disease – other Cybertronians had.
"Hm." Infernus mused. "That...that adds up with some of what I've gotten from the other fossils. If I could get a reading off that thing's body..."
"Prime." Grimwing's tone was one of warning.
The Prime fell silent.
"Look, if they find it and bring it back, I'm doing it. I'm sorry. We need answers, Grim."
"Can't we ask that Ramhorn person?" wondered Arcee. "He's the one who tipped you off, right?"
"Can't, 'Cee." Bulkhead told her. "Ramhorn stayed behind. He and his pals are joinin' back up with the 'Cons."
In the silence that followed he could almost envision an uncomfortable tension in the air of the hangar. Having the enemy assist you and then double back to their old allegiance could be a terrible danger. He would have mentioned that the feline femme might be useful to them, but he wasn't willing to trust his encryption. There was, too, the looming risk of a patch. If Shockwave, Megatron, or Starscream was suspicious enough of them to perform one on any of the little ones, or on any one of the Prime's soldiers, valuable assets would be lost. Hopefully their loyal behavior (and explanations for their attacks) convinced them.
"Thank you for the information, Jackson." Magnus stated.
"Er, you're welcome. Sir."
He nodded unconscious approval and cut the line. Ireland was fast approaching, and there was no sign of enemy movement. Had they arrived first?
KNOCKNAREA, IRELAND
Local Time: 5:45 P.M.
The one unfortunate thing about the humans not excavating the colossal mound was that their efforts to unearth the fossil could cause an uproar. Without Tag-Along to covertly give them entrance, the most he and his soldiers could do was try to keep the damage to the site at a minimum and have Fowler later discuss the importance of the disruption with European intelligence. With it beginning to grow dark, there were fewer natives roaming the island's wilderness but they retained disguise to be certain. Of course, the ship could not be so easily disguised...
Jackson's mentioning it as being a potential passage tomb proved fruitful. A simple geologic scan revealed its true nature, and the hidden entrance. A weak grenade, more sensibly aimed, exposed the narrow passage at the base of the hill – too small for their titanic forms to fit. But there was someone with them who was small enough to gain entry. Perhaps Miko stowing away was not so problematic as he had originally assumed.
He glanced down at the female native.
"Miko –" he started.
She smirked: "Way ahead of you."
She darted ahead and into the passage. Bulkhead tried to move forward but Wheeljack arrested him.
"Let the kid work, Bulk. She can handle herself."
Bulkhead glowered at him silently. Wheeljack didn't blame him. He deserved that glare. He hadn't expected that one throw to go so disastrously wrong so fast.
Ultra Magnus said nothing. The tomb's main chamber was vast; once she was inside she could call for a groundbridge and have the remains retrieved. Perhaps a strategic move on the part of the builders: access to the body was no simple matter. Knowing how cautious the little creatures were now, he suspected that perhaps they might have had a guard stationed nearby in the past to keep them informed, or to keep away intruders. Jackson had mentioned the locals refused to excavate owing to a superstition, but he hadn't discovered the precise belief. Perhaps they no longer remembered why.
Within a few minutes Miko re-emerged, looking none the worse for wear. She seemed to be holding something behind her back.
"Okay." she said. "Good news and bad news."
The Commander had to resist a sigh.
"Bad first." Wheeljack grunted.
"No metal dragon skeleton. I think the 'Cons already got it."
A curse escaped Ultra Magnus. He should've known their luck wouldn't hold. With Shockwave able to find them with a mere signal activation they were lagging behind in this race.
"But...I do have some good news." she teased.
Three sets of blue optics focused on her. Smirking, she held up what might at first be mistaken for an oddly shaped stone. But the faint sheen underneath the dirt and the rust, caught by the final rays of the setting sun, suggested otherwise. The girl's smirk only grew broader.
"They didn't get the whole body this time."
Author's Note: GAH! So late! D: Probably because I spent most of last week-end buying and setting up a new laptop because hey, hey – the Dell finally quit on me. Barely lasted me three semesters. Three. Screw you Dell. I now have a schmancy new HP Omen and ooh I love it.
I'll probably do a short little follow-up to this, just to tie up some loose ends and involve that plot point I hinted at. :)
