So I started this forever ago, but have not updated in a long time and cannot find my previous thread for it, so I will start over. Author’s note: This fan fic is a What If. When the Volcano reactivated Teletran in 1985, the Decepticons were the first to be activated, and when they left, it was Starscream’s foolish act of violence that reactivated the Autobots. What if Megatron shut down Teletran One before leaving? Or Starscream didn’t blast the Ark before leaving… what then? This story takes place five years later. The Decepticons have been successful in not only bringing Cybertron into Earth’s orbit, but also destroying the Earth’s Moon so that Cybertron can safely orbit Earth with only minor geometric anomalies. Earth is in the mist of a full out Decepticon Occupation. Enslavement camps force human workers to create Energon Cubes from natural resources like oil, lightning, hydro, solar and more. With many Autobots having fled Cybertron, or hiding within the depths of their home world, and the Decepticons preparing an all out Universal conquest; can Earth’s Resistance Army find the key to defeating to the Decepticons, or is the human race defeated, along with the rest of the Universe? Also expect appearances from characters in G.I. Joe. Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole “Give me a hand Spike!” I hear my dad call, “We gotta raise this bit, flush it out!” Dad was standing there with another guy, Joe something. “Right dad, I’ll get the bailer!” I called back, running for the bailer, I never made it that far. “DIVE! DIVE!” I hear a cry from the sky. I look up and freeze. Metal giants filled the skies, most anywhere from two to three stories tall. “Look up there!” my father calls out, “What is it?” “What are they?” I cry, breaking my frozen stance. I watch two land, one is silver with a huge metal cannon on his arm, and the other is red and gray. “Everybody! Come on!” Joe shouts, throwing his wrench at the pair. More join in, throwing other tools and pipes, each bounce off like toilet paper. The silver giant lifts one of the support pipes like a stick, and drops it in the direction of the attacking oilrig workers. The pipe rolls at them, knocking the group off the rig. A smaller blue robot lands beside us; and when I say smaller, I only mean compared to the other robots, in reality it was still a bit taller then dad or I; without a word, it heads for the control house, dad stands in his way, trying to stop it, and it grabs him up, choking dad against the control room’s wall. “Get off my dad!” I shout, trying to pull it off my dad. With a flick of its wrist, it sends me flying off the rig into the water below. “SPIKE!!!” I hear before hitting the waves, forcing myself back to the surface in time to see dad diving to my rescue. “You ok son?” he asks as he surfaces. “Yeah dad, but what is going on?” “I don’t know, but it looks like those things are attempting to steal the oil.” We swam for the dock like quite a few others, swimming out to help others who couldn’t make it. A few guys wanting to climb the ladder back up to the rig to try and stop the giants, but dad stopped them from doing it, saying it was too risky. We sat there for what seemed like hours, waiting for the giants to finish their piracy, hoping we’d be save after the fact. “Thundercracker!” I hear the silver one command as the giants take off again, “We have what we came for, destroy this facility.” “As you command Mighty Megatron!” a blue giant replies, looking a lot like the red one, “so long Earth germs!” The blue one spots us, smiling psychotically, the weapons attached to his arms pointing down on us, releasing waves of blue flames upon us. Dad pushes me off the dock with a few others who responded fast enough. I wait for him under the water, watching the light from above. By the time I resurface, the blue giant is gone, the rig is engulfed in flames, and there are charred corpses littering the dock. “Dad! Dad!” I shout, looking around in the water for him, hoping he made it. “Spike!” Joe calls at me, swimming over, “Your dad was up there when the flames hit.” He hands me a charred hard hat, the name Witwicky sketch across it. “What happened next Spike?” Edwin Steen asks, looking across at the troubled Arthur Witwicky. “There were three of us still there,” Spike responds, examining the modified Decepticon Blaster he held, something he stole from a Decepticon Cassette named Rumble, “we swam for the other dock on the far side of the rig as it burned, the Decepticons having left with their haul of Energon Cubes. Once we reached the dock, we found a single life raft that hadn’t been destroyed, boarded it, and started the slow journey back to shore.” “Arthur I understand that you were one of the first victims of the Decepticons when they begun their conquest of Earth and her resources,” Edwin bent over close, placing his hand over the gun, getting Spike to make eye contact, “but United Earth Resistance Army needs level headed soldiers in the field. The ‘skirmish’ you had with Hector Delgado that provoked Sergeant Hauser to order this psychiatric evaluation could very well not only take you off active duty, but throw you in the brig as well.” “I told you before Steen, call me Spike, Arthur was my father; and as for what happened with Shipwreck, he was asking for my foot in his mouth. If anyone should be in trouble, it is that loud mouthed sailor, not me!” “What did he say?” Spike looked over at Edwin Steen, the man’s eyes show his care for the young soldier is genuine. “My last field mission, we were trying to evac a group of refugees in Brazil when the Decepticons attacked. I was trying to cover one group of refugees when another group was incinerated by that blue Decepticon that killed my father. We were being debriefed by Sergeant Hauser when Delgado opened his mouth about it, saying I couldn’t protect those people, like I couldn’t save my dad.” “And that is when you punched Delgado?” “I grabbed him, pushed him against a wall and told him to shut his trap. He threw the first actually punch, I just returned it.” “Spike, since you joined the U.E.R.A. a few years ago, you have had an almost perfect mission success record. Even the mission in Brazil you brought up, was considered successful overall. We can ill afford to take a man off active duty, but on the same account cannot have someone with such a short temper. You understand this correct?” “Yes sir.” “Good. My recommendation will be to put you on temporary probation. Any more ‘incidents’ however, could have serious consequences.” “Are we done here?” “Yes, yes we are Spike. Try to relax, have some down time with your brother, you need it.” “Thanks.” Without another word, Spike leaves rushing down the corridor of the U.E.R.A underground base of operations, heading for the barracks. “Spike!” comes a voice from behind him, “Hold up a minute!” Spike turns to find Sgt Faireborn running up. “Sir!” Spike salutes. Faireborn laughs, “Told you before Spike, you only salute Officers, and with this bunch of misfits, we rarely even do that.” “Sorry sir,” Spike states, “What can I do for you?” “The General has another mission lined up for us. You are still active right?” “Yeah, I haven’t been thrown in the brig yet.” “Good, we meet at 1100 hours. Be down in the hangar bay alright?” Checking his watch, Spike notes the time, 0930, giving him about an hour and a half. “Yes sir.” Spike continues on his way to the barracks, passing other soldiers on his way, paying them no never mind. When he finally arrives, is shocked to only find his brother there waiting for him. “Spike!” the boy shouts, running over. The barracks the two were assigned too, is a large hangar like room, holding 100 beds and a 100 lockers. Not much room for privacy, and is rarely this empty. “Hey Robert, how are you?” Spike asks, hugging his little brother. “Hey! If you can make everyone call you Spike, you can at least call me Buster!” Buster plays at hitting his brother in the stomach. “How’d it go with Steen?” “Edwin?” Spike asks, “How’d you know about that already?” “It is all the base can talk about, you decking Delgado and misplacing his jaw!” “I gave him a black eye.” “Ah whatever. What he do this time? Open his robot sized mouth again?” “Something like that. Steen is having me put on probation. He is a good guy and all, even if he is a pacifist, even in the face of the ‘Cons.” “Speaking of which, Faireborn was in here looking for you. Saying it was important,” Buster speaks up. “I ran into him on the way here a few minutes ago. A mission, I need to be at the briefing at 11.” “Can I come?!” “You aren’t even old enough to drive Buster, what makes you think I am taking you on a mission?” “Aw shucks.” “Deal with it. Hinton actually wants you helping him in the kitchen today; I’ll take you to the mess before heading off.” “Marvin?! Oh please bro!!! Don’t make me go!” Buster whines. “Hinton is a great guy, and he loves it when you help him.” “He is a great guy, but the dude rhymes everything. He hurts my head!” “Deal with it, let’s go.” With his head slumped over, Buster follows his brother out the barracks, and down the corridor, following the big signs on the walls, Mess this way, feel free to stay! Something Marvin Hinton came up with. “Spike and Buster, come over to me; I got vegetables for as far as the eye can see!” Hinton yells as the two walk in. “Real vegetables Hinton?” Spike gawks, “Where did you get them?” “All those refugees you stopped from being ‘Con slaves; gave them to us, as thank for the save! We are going to have a feast tonight; set all our bellies in the right!” “Figures,” Spike whines, “I am about to head off on a mission, meaning I won’t be able to enjoy it.” Hinton throws him a carrot, “Now stop your bitching, stop your whining; and never say old Marvin never gave ya nothing.” “Thanks!” Spike yells back, stuffing the carrot in his mouth, then mumbling something about Buster behaving while he is gone, a mouth full of carrot making it difficult. “Yeah yeah,” Buster responds as Spike heads off, “be careful.” As Spike heads off, his thoughts return to what has happened in the last few years. The Decepticons’ rise to power, taking over most of the world, destroying governments and enslaving the masses. The Decepticons bringing their home world of Cybertron to Earth’s orbit, using it to replace the moon itself. The raping of his world for its natural resources. It can sometimes be too much to bear, especially with his father being the first casualty of this war. Spike walks into the large hangar bay, several aircrafts across the deck, but chairs lay out near him, most of his unit already there. Unlike most units of the U.E.R.A., his was all made up of former G.I. Joe members until he was assigned to it. G.I. Joe before the war was a special United States armed forces group assembled to deal with a terrorist organization known as Cobra. When the Decepticons first attacked, even G.I. Joe sizable power, added to by Cobra’s who had signed a peace treaty with the Joes when the ‘Cons first attack, were no match. That was about 5 years ago. Since then, the world’s remaining armies united to form the U.E.R.A. under the leadership of General Clayton Abernathy, who had once been the Joes’ Commanding Officer. There were many other Joes in the U.E.R.A., even former members of Cobra, but the highest percentage was in Spike’s unit, which was just fine by him. “Everyone please have a seat,” General Abernathy calls from a podium in the middle of the hangar, about 20 feet or so from the chairs. This was only about the third time Spike had actually seen the General, seeing as how the General was usually at the main base of operations in London. Standing behind the General was a tall man, wearing a large metal mask. The mere sight of him made most people’s stomach turn, Spike was no exception. His name was James McCullen, but the human world knew him better as Destro, an international arms dealer, and until the war began, a ranking Cobra Officer. Standing beside him, a dark haired European woman named Anastasia DeCobray, the Baroness. Another former Cobra officer, and the only to still wear the snake symbol of Cobra on her leather jump suit; and on the far end of the podium, a boy about Spike’s age and wheel chaired bound, Chip Chase, the Hacker. Chip was a friend of Spike’s from before the war, and his computer hacking skills gave the U.E.R.A. about 90% of its Intel on the Decepticons. Everything from base locations, to troop rosters, weapon systems, and more was there for Chip to grab at his leisure. Spike sat in the front row, between his units Communications man Jack Morelli and their covert specialist Allison Burnett. The rest of the unit fell in place, 15 total, all attention to the podium. “Alright ladies and gentlemen, please have a seat and quiet down, I have a mission of the utmost importance for you,” General Abernathy calls over the P.A. system. A large 3D hologram appears before them. An image of a volcano, with the rear of a large ship sticking out the side, and a massive fortified barrier around it. “This is the Decepticon Insulation at Mt Saint Helens, with what we can only assume is one of the first Decepticon Space Vessels to reach Earth, embedded into the Volcano side itself. What makes this Insulation of particular interest to us is our Intel gathered on it. The ship appears to be too embedded into the volcano to ever be successfully removed, generates zero power and the only traffic in and out of the ship itself, appears to be the Decepticon Commander Megatron himself, very non-routinely. The barrier around the volcano is heavily powered and armed to the teeth with quite a few troops stationed to guard it. Intel on the ship is incomplete, but suggest the ‘Cons are guarding something within it; we need to find out what and find out if we can use against them.” David Lewinski raises his hand, “What do we figure is out P.O.E?” (Point of entry) “It doesn’t look to be the most accessible place we have ever encountered.” “I am glad you asked Lewinski,” Abernathy smiles, “to answer that question, our weapons and technology consultant for this mission, James McCullen.” As McCullen approaches the front of the podium, the silence in the air seems to almost thicken around them, the former G.I. Joes, looking up into the masked face of their former enemy. “Thanks to different raids on Decepticon outposts and on their computer systems, we have managed to devise new weapons and vehicles that will help in our war against those tin plated tyrants…” “As if he should talk about tin plated tyrants,” whispers Wayne Sneeden from behind Spike. “Let the man speak Sneeden,” Faireborn shot back under his breathe. “…. Working with the finest minds we have at our disposal, including myself, Mr. Chase here, and several other scientists at our various bases around the globe, we present, Skye Havoc 2.0.” McCullen makes arm movements as if something had appeared before him, but nothing happens. The unit all begins to laugh, except two. Shana O’Hara and her partner, the silent ninja only known as Snake Eyes, both eye the area McCullen had gestured towards with curiosity. “Well I’ll be, the man in da’ iron mask has finally lost his marbles,” Ronald Tadur cries out from the front row, on the other side of Alison Burnett from Spike. “Then I have a volunteer to help me demonstrate the new Havoc,” McCullen smiles, “Please Corp. Tadur, approach the podium.” “Sir?” Tadur stares at Faireborn, as if hoping to have him say otherwise. “You heard the man Ron,” Faireborn replies, “step up.” Nervously, Tadur stands up, and walks slowly to the podium, eyes darting back and forth from McCullen and Abernathy. Five feet into his journey, Tadur hits solid air and is flung backwards unto the ground. “I hit some’in!” Tadur shouts, rubbing his nose. “Can’t see the big rig in front of you Ron?!” Shana laughs, getting up and walking over. She runs her hand along the spot Tadur hit, marveling. “It is perfect isn’t it?” McCullen asks, his mask forming around his devilish grin. “It is almost perfect,” Shana informs him, climbing something, and finally standing on what seems like thin air, “but Snake Eyes and I still saw it.” “But the point is young woman, the Decepticons can’t see it!” McCullen’s outrage obvious, “We used their own technology to perfect this vehicle. As if on cue, lasers dart around the area beneath Shana, forming a large box, allowing a large, chrome covered ground vehicle to slowly appear. Loaded with several missiles pointing behind it, two large cannons, connected to a moving chair, and two guns sticking out of its front where you would expect headlights to be on a van, right below a large, two person cockpit covered in thick glass. The unit, now with its view of the podium obscured, runs around it, each taking his or her chance to touch the once unseen weapon. “What is this thing?” Lamont Morris asks. “The design was going to be used on a G.I. Joe vehicle,” Abernathy admits, “but the war began before we could create a prototype. When we acquired the Decepticon cloaking technology, we added it to its plans, along with several other vehicles, and have a grouping of vehicles to be used with this assignment.” “What vehicles?” Mac Arthur Ito asks. Again, as if on cue, several other vehicles appear in the same fashion on either side of the podium, on one side, a large delta winged aircraft, with its cockpit opening from underneath to allow pilots to enter instead of the canopy opening atop. On the other, two smaller aircrafts; one is delta winged as well, but only a little longer then the typical car, equipped with both aerial afterburners, and high speed, underwater engines; the other sits on helicopter like landing gears, each carrying large missiles, but has short wings, ending with large vertical panels protecting VTOL engines on either side, a single person cockpit with altered heavy machine gun barrels. All in the same chrome as the Havoc. “The old Sky Hawk and Sharc vehicles from our G.I. Joe days!” Ettienne La Fitte notes about the smaller aircrafts, “haven’t seen either of these in a dogs age. Like the new paint jobs.” “I had seen designs for a stealth aircraft like this,” Thomas Arashikage remarks about the larger aircraft, “Your’s?” he asks McCullen. “Indeed Thomas,” McCullen smiles, “Something Cobra would have used if not for the Decepticons. The Skye Raven.” “The plan is simple, several Skye Raven’s will distract the Decepticons long enough for a small team of Skye Hawks to escort Chip Chase into the base while the rest of the unit, in Skye Havocs wait on the sidelines as back up. Any Questions?” the General explains. “How are the Hawks getting into the base? While they maybe cloaked, surely the ‘Cons will see us getting out of them in front of the ship,” Spike speaks up. “Down the center of the volcano of course,” the General says matter of factly. A look of disbelief illuminates the unit. Spike sits in the cockpit of the Skye Hawk, flying in a standard V formation, though if it weren’t for the sensors indicators within the Hawk, he’d never be able to see the other four. Each fly cloaked, Alison Burnett in the lead, Chip Chase behind her on the left, Blaine Parker behind her on her right, Spike behind Chip, and Shana O’Hara behind Parker. “Alright soldiers, game time,” Burnett calls out over the com; “Faireborn and the three Ravens have just started their run on the Decepticon Insulation. Five fighters have just lifted off from the Insulation in pursuit. Sensor readings indicate only three ‘Cons have been left behind.” “What about the automated defenses?” Parker asks. “The Ravens, under cloak were able to get in without being noticed, we should be fine.” “Are we going to use the codenames?” Chase asks, the giddiness in his voice overwhelming even over a radio. “Yes Hacker,” Burnett replies, “As of now, codenames are activated, sound off. Lady Jaye in command.” “Hacker here,” Chase squeals. “Mainframe present and accounted for,” Parker states. “Spike here.” “Scarlett here Lady Jaye.” “Alright kiddies, let’s do something crazy! Spike, you’re down the rabbit hole first.” “Rodger Lady Jaye, I will radio when I have landed and the coast is clear.” Spike zooms down towards the top of the volcano. Once over the crater, he slows the Hawk, and activates the vertical engines. He can hear the click as the twin thrusters move into place, and slowly, carefully, he begins his decent, taking note of any obstacles the others should know about. He lands softly atop a wing of the ship, off the wings edge, he notes a magma pool, causing smoke to rise, while in the other direction, where the rest of the vessel should be, is rock and long since cooled magma hiding the vessel. “Lady Jaye, this is Spike, come in Lady Jaye,” Spike calls into his comm. “This is Lady Jaye, go ahead Spike.” “Sensors indicate the coast is clear, no Decepticon energy signatures anywhere within the volcano, I am going to deactivate my cloak now before you begin your descent.” “Rodger that big Spike, waiting your all clear.” Spike deactivates his cloak; the energy cube appears around him, allowing the Hawk to reappear. Once the task is finished, he waits a moment, expecting an attack. When that attack never comes, he opens his canopy, sending an all clear to the others. One by one, Skye Hawks appear around Spike as he checks over his blaster and his comrades exit their vehicles, him and Mainframe helping Hacker out and into his wheelchair. “No offense Hacker,” Mainframe starts, looking over Hacker, “but how much sense does it have to even have you on this mission? You aren’t exactly mobile.” “Other then the fact I can out hack you any day of the week Mainframe?” Hacker smiles, moving the control stick on the armrest of the wheel chair, the wheels fold off to the sides, becoming hover engines. Hacker begins circling Mainframe, “Something new I came up with, what do you think?” “Spectacular, I take it all back now.” “If we are done kissing each other now,” Spike groans, finding an access board on the ships haul, “maybe we can get some work done.” “What did you find Spike?” Lady Jaye asks, kneeling beside him. “Some sort of oversized keypad, perfect for Decepticon fingers, but I don’t recognize this symbol across the top,” Spike points to a red face just above the first key. “Intriguing,” Hacker interrupt, bending over, “It reminds me a little of the purple symbol on all the Decepticons the first time I saw this thing.” “You’ve seen it before Hacker?” Lady Jaye asks, “Where?” “When I got the Intel on this place, and was working on decoding it, this symbol came up several times, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant. I think it might mean danger, or hated, but it was very unclear.” “Danger?” Spike grins, “I love the sound of that!” “Can you get us inside Hacker?” Lady Jaye asks. “That part is easy,” Hacker smiles, taking the end of his rifle and dialing a nine digit code, “I already retrieve that part of info from the system I hacked. It is Megatron’s own passcode.” A panel slides open, a dry, stale smell coming from within. “It smells like a tomb down there,” Spike notes, shining his flashlight down the opening, seeing that it opens into a large room. Computers and equipment pressed against the walls. “Amazing isn’t it?” Hacker smiles, “This room is larger then any Decepticon, I would dare say this is some sort of hangar bay within the ship, or even escape pod room. Incredible!” “Um,” Mainframe questions, “Why would they have something like this? Can’t the ‘Cons fly and stuff?” “They can fly, but may not be able to journey long distances without a ship, hence why they would have vessels like this to begin with,” Hacker explains, “Think of it all like we think of cars. Ground vehicles we don’t need because we walk, but need for long distances.” “If you say so, but the ‘Cons are a whole different story.” “Come on guys,” Scarlett interrupts, fastening a rope around a stag mite, “Let’s see how far down the Rabbit Hole goes.” One by one, the group takes the rope down, except of course Hacker who floats down the hole, regrouping in the middle of the Hangar Bay. “Wow,” Spike gasps, running a hand along the rock inside the ship, “all of this sentiment rock within the ship… this thing has to have been here for millions of years, just sitting here.” “If the Decepticons have been here for millions of years, why have we only known about them for 5?” Scarlett asks. “Maybe this was some sort of exploration vessel that crashed here and was lost to the Decepticons,” Hacker theorizes, “and they just found it before their occupation of Earth.” “Possible, would explain a few things, but make a whole new set of questions,” Scarlett states. “Questions?” Spike asks, “Like what?” “Like what could’ve happened to crash a mammoth ship like this?” “Maybe we can figure that out by looking through this puzzle,” Lady Jaye states, “Let’s go people, we ain’t getting paid by the hour. Mainframe, get the door.” Walking over to the large doorway tucked away in a corner, and attempting to access the door’s controls, “This is crazy man,” Mainframe complains, zipping his flashlight around, “we aren’t even trying to be cautious with this, we are going in here blind. What if there are traps, or gua…Argh!!!” The others draw there guns at the entrance way as a large metal body, which was sitting on the other end of the door, falls, barely missing Mainframe. Lifeless eyes stare at Mainframe, cold, dark and hollow. Laughing, Spike helps Mainframe to his feet, “This little guy is offline Mainframe, pull yourself together. The body is about 12 feet long, small for most Decepticons, but still a giant compared to the group of humans. Red in coloring with black arms and legs, and horns atop its helmet. Hacker hovers above the body, leaning over to get a better look. “Look at this Lady Jaye,” Hacker calls out, pointing to its chest. “What is it?” Lady Jaye responds, the group gathering around. “It is obscured by that hole in his chest, but there is that red symbol again, staring up at us.” Spike runs his hand along the hole, “Scorch marks.” “What?” Mainframe responds. “Scorch marks, like you’d fine left by a Decepticon armament. This guy was shot down.” “Shot? Some sort of fight perhaps aboard the ship?” Scarlett suggests. “Maybe a mutiny of some sort. A group tried to take over the ship and it crashed during the mayhem,” Mainframe interjects. “Come on people, let’s see what else we can find,” Lady Jaye orders, jumping down off the body and into the hallway. The group quickly follows her, once again assuming a V formation as flashlights hit the wall and ceiling. More evidence of a struggle, and other bodies lying around, discarded warriors from a battle long since forgotten. “Does anyone notice something different about this place?” Spike finally asks, and he and Mainframe attempt to force a door open. “What do you mean Spike?” Mainframe asks, kicking the unmoving door. “Some of the wounds on these guys look like they were from hand to hand weapons, or from merely being punched, but those bodies aren’t anywhere near each other. Not to mention, not a one of them have the purple face, they all have just this weird red one.” “So maybe they got those wounds in a different brawl, and then were shot or something,” Mainframe suggests, “who cares, let’s just get this door open so we can continue. We have no idea when Megatron will come waltzing in here.” Spike examines the arm of a large green robot, several button are exposed, the cover having been ripped off years ago. “I wonder,” Spike notes a symbol on the arm, matching the door itself. Small, red, but squared with a tiny triangle cut from the top. Slowly he reaches out, and presses the button. The door flies open, its age not showing. “What did you do?” Lady Jaye panics, covering the button from being pushed again. “The symbol is on the door, and every other door as the enter key, or activate key,” Spike responds, “Made sense that it would work.” “How’d you know it wouldn’t activate that sleeping Decepticon?” Mainframe gasps, his rifle pointed at its head. “Right here,” Spike points at the button, “it didn’t have any dust on it, unlike the rest of the pad, making it likely, it has been used quite often, lately.” “Megatron must use it to open this door when he comes,” Hacker states, “Like it was some sort of activation button, but why wouldn’t Megatron have such a button built into himself?” “He doesn’t belong here, or wasn’t meant to be here,” Scarlett says, walking through the now open door. The five find themselves within the ships bridge. The single most count of robotic bodies lie here, in pieces, thrown about the room. Blast holes make the walls and front monitors resemble swiss cheese, and centuries old rock, bleed from openings in the hull. Ancient controls and computers lie as dead as the ships crew, except one. The largest computer, along the opposite wall, seems active, a scanning laser flickering on and off from it, only hitting a single bare spot on the floor.