Chapter 22: Arrivals & Enquiries

Harbour is always distinct. Whether it was the giant port facilities that hung above Cybertron during more peacable times to this sea port on Earth. The air was filled with rich smells and noises. From the tang of salt in the air from the pounding of the ocean, the pungent scent of diesels fuels that powered both the ships and the methods of their unloading from the smallest forklifts to the largest cranes. The rattling and rumbling of the various diesel engines, and the whine of electric motors, to the more musical twittering and squawking of seabirds, looking for the cast off burley from the fishing fleet nearby. Horns, whistles and sirens each contributed to the pollution of the air, each making their own coded warning that the humans that inhabited the docking facility reacted to instinctively after years of practice. But not all the humans knew what each noise meant.

A group of humans in blue uniforms wearing white shirts, splattered with golden or yellow insignia, moved amongst the crates, moving with precision, unloading and repacking the contents of the contains, supervising the stevedores as the Subaru World Rally Team got ready to make their way inland and north. One of the Prodrive managers who ran the team stepped over to the blue rally car still remaining on the dock.

"You are sure about this?" asked the Rally Manager, apparently talking to nobody.

"Yes Nicholas I am sure." The voice emerged from the blue Subaru Impreza rally car. Smokescreen had arrived in Central America and now was on his way to the highlands. "I am not human after all. I share a stronger bond with my Autobot friends than I can with humans. It is the equivalent of a family for me."

"You know you will always be welcome back at Prodrive."

"Thank you Nicholas, your support has been invaluable; I hope David is not too annoyed."

"I think he thought this day would be inevitable. Petter and Phil would want to say thank you. We could not have won the title without you." Smokescreen had nothing to add. Nicholas walked away to take a firmer role in getting the convoy underway.

After the fury of the storm, port was as pleasant an aftermath as Smokescreen had ever experienced. His slumber had been fitful since the message from Hound. He had been trying to re-establish contact with his fellow Autobots for some time, but the only one he could find with any regularity over the airwaves was Bluestreak, and he was strangely unresponsive to his entreaties. Bluestreak remained quiet, as did Hound who he found unable to get an answer from.

A container in front and to Smokescreen's left was cracked open. A tan coloured vehicle rolled out from within. It was not a typical Earth production vehicle. Wary about such things, Smokescreen started trundling forwards, disengaging the rhythmic throbbing noise his Earth engine noise simulator made. The container sat further back along the dock, towards the shore where an old warehouse took up two/thirds the width of this jetty. As he got closer the vehicle looked more like an assault vehicle. Recognition was sudden and shocking.

SWINDLE!

Before Smokescreen was consciously aware that he was too close to take on one of the skilful Combaticons, even the physically smallest of the five, he had transformed and stood, filling his right fist with his rifle and bring his left hand up in a firm two handed grip. Work stopped suddenly in the background as those humans not working for Prodrive, even the ones who did, stopped to look at this astonishing vision.

"Swindle! Surrender immediately or I'll blow a hole through you." The armoured vehicle did not respond. "Swindle you Decepticon scum, answer me!"

Swindle continued to not move a micron. Smokescreen edged closer, moving across a large open doorway in the warehouse. It was Swindle all right he could pick out the Decepticon brand on his...

"That's far enough Autobot." The voice was behind him. Something metallic bumped against the back of his head. "Lay your rifle down on the floor to your right then back up five paces with your hands in the air." Slowly Smokescreen did as he was bid. A sand coloured Cybetronian frame walked into holding a wide berth and keep Smokescreen under the gun of a small pistol. Or was it a Cybertronian frame? The colouring matched Swindle although the voice sounded more like Trailbreaker than Swindle.

"Swindle?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get your hands on a Binaltech frame?"

"Never you mind, my Autobot friend."

"That frame was probably intended to save the life of some poor Autobot you Decepticon scum."

"Who said I was a Decepticon? I don't have to be do I?"

"That brand suggests to me otherwise Swindle."

"Have you ever tried removing yours?

"I've never had reason to doubt mine." Swindle paused after the rebuke. When he did reply it was more measured.

"Don't you find it interesting how easily we slip into old patterns? Like millennia of combat we've been conditioned. Are you finding that conditioning breaking down at all?" This was a question that Smokescreen was now finding rather uncomfortable. It was true his own physical condition had deteriorated since becoming isolated from Cybertron and the chain of command. He now wondered if his mental condition had similarly swayed.

Then he caught himself. An expert in diversionary tactics, he had been caught out badly by the Combaticon, firstly in being decoyed by his pre-Binaltech form, and now was being 'led up the garden path' as the humans say by the talkative 'Con. Smokescreen re-composed his face into an expressionless mask and stared at the sand and black coloured figure.

"Get to the point Swindle."

"Look, ummm... Skids?"

"Smokescreen."

"Smokescreen, do you remember the pre-Earth war days well? You remember Onslaught's army had once been independent of alignment? Well I'm reverting to those times. I'm an independent trader with a product. And it's a product you want." With that Swindle holstered his own pistol and reversed Smokescreen's rifle he had picked up, and held it out to Smokescreen, butt first. Smokescreen hefted his rifle, then laid it to one side and sat.

"OK, I'm listening."

"How are you guys off for energon?" Smokescreen made a small noise of astonishment.

"You seriously don't expect me to answer that?"

"I guess not," conceded Swindle. "We've both had intelligence training at some point; you can't blame me for trying."

Smokescreen maintained the stonewall mask. Empathising with this Decepticon would be handing him an advantage.

"I've been talking with some Sheiks who have been very interested in the concept of energon. I'm presuming with so few Autobots on Earth I'm betting the old infrastructure isn't being maintained like it was. I'm sure you're going through filters at a rate that surprises you and recycling them is reducing your overall efficiency." Swindle paused for an acknowledgement. Smokescreen made a circular motion with his unoccupied left hand that he had seen humans use. Swindle appeared to under stand the gesture.

"What would you say, if I could provide refined energon that you didn't have to purge through already over used filters?"

"The catch?"

"Remuneration of course. The amount and form of the currency would have to be decided by others of course and would vary on your capacity to pay."

"You would be making this same offer to the Decepticons? Less? More?" For the first time Smokescreen noticed something other than an air of cheeky nonchalance in the Decepticon.

"What I offer the Decepticons is of no consequence to you or of any bearing to our negotiations." The flash of anger was gone as quickly as it arrived, and briefly the look on Swindle's visored face betrayed the look that he knew he had given away something he should not have. "Well played Autobot," he added, just to show that they both knew what was going on. Swindle was right about one thing, negotiations would have to go to someone beyond himself, but did an Autobot chain of command even exist anymore?

"I can take you with me; I think I can vouch for you short term, but no guarantees. And I don't think anyone will trust you."

"I'd prefer it that way. Trust creates liberties and liberties create... misunderstandings. Better for all if nothing is taken at face value." The cheekiness had returned, but there was a brief air of something else. Solemnity? Or was the Combaticon patronising the Diversionist? In any event Swindle had what he wanted from Smokescreen, an audience. For good or for ill, he was going to lead a Decepticon towards where Hound had called them.

"Follow me, Autobot; I know a way out of town away from prying eyes. We may need it the way you are dressed." Smokescreen, while aware of the problems associated with a rally car wandering the streets, speculated briefly if there was something else to be avoiding, and why Swindle's former frame continued to sit on the dock, now unattended. Swindle transformed into a sand coloured Jeep Wrangler and drove off down the abandoned warehouse interior, towards the city. Smokescreen paused and followed.

Next: Chapter 23

 

excellant swindle is the conniving opportunist hes always been. trying to make a buck when and where he can. good chapter. im just curious will sunstreaker be making an appearance since his toy is coming out?

 

if its a little secret you are going to hold back then so be it. im just curious thats all.
great chapter though

 

It's no secret. The characters who will star and drive the plot line of this tale will be the 17 Alternators. There have been several mentioned and one significant cameo in Soundwave, but it will be no more than that. There are no plans to include Sunstreaker, Blaster or Red Alert.

 

thats a shame i really would have liked seeing how you put him in the story.

 

it would be great seeing sideswipe getting ready to kill dead end and all of a sudden a familiar looking yellow vehicle pulls up.

 

Chapter 23: Blackmail & Brinkmanship

Tracks had wondered for a long time what it might be like if one of his fellow veterans visited him. The reality had been considerably more disappointing than the pleasant reminiscing he had imagined.

For starters there had been two of them, not one, and neither had been his favourite kind of Autobot. Skids, frankly was boring. Of the science corps he could talk to Jetfire about flying, Wheeljack had a wicked sense of humour and Perceptor was at least quirky entertainment. Skids was just boring. All he was was his work and his discoveries and he told Tracks, on one of the few occasions he'd spoken to Tracks at all, that most of what he did was frivolous and irrelevant. There was no fun in Skids. Jazz was a considerable let down.

Jazz used to be fun.

Tracks had fond memories of sitting on his wheels, moving amongst the seething humanity at one of Jazz' warehouse gigs where he used the non-de-plume of DJ Ajaz, experimenting with infusions of popular dance, rap and pop music and sound effects. Tracks could distinctly remember one composition that had featured the sound that was not a sound of vessel broaching the gap between dimensions as it achieved faster than light travel. It was a sound felt as much as heard, and yet somehow, despite being stuck on Earth he had been able to sample it for an audience who could never have even conceived of the concept of its creation. That was not the Jazz that pulled up alongside him as Tracks' human companion processed the paperwork towards entering another show 'n' shine meet in San Diego.

"Tracks," Jazz had said simply as the white Mazda RX8 pulled up alongside.

"Jazz! I haven't seen you in years. Your new alt mode looks cute. Bit too rice boy for me." Tracks added a Chevrolet V8 rumble for emphasis.

“Whatcha up to musicman?” Tracks then noticed the grey Scion people mover pulling up alongside Tracks' other side as he waited in the cue on the grassed oval which sat beside the exhibition grounds being used for the car show. The people mover was hauling a trailer behind it on which sat a Honda Integra dressed up like a police cruiser which seemed illogical.

"Brought some friends too?"

"Skids and I are heading south. We want you to come. It is important." Jazz voice was neutral, not the friendly Earth language banter it once had been.

"Sounds like fun, but I don't think it will be as fun as this."

"They'll be plenty of opportunity to test yourself physically."

"Appealing to my vanity? Cute. I bet there will be shooting though. Much less shooting at car shows I’ve noticed. Well, that's not strictly speaking true. The sound offs tend to trigger an argument or two, and the odd moment of ‘bustacap inyoass’, but that's more your area than mine hey DJ Ajaz?" There was a long pause, as if mentioning a name from Jazz' past was making him think of other things.

"Hopefully it's a false alarm." He said eventually, without conviction.

"That sounded convincing. About as convincing as Streetwise here. You know there are no Honda Integra Police cars in America?"

"It's not Streetwise," said Skids, his voice containing a hint of anger which Tracks did not care to track towards its target. "And if we dither here too long the energon inhibitors will degrade sufficiently to return him to consciousness."

The proverbial penny dropped for Tracks. He remembered the chaos when this Autobot had broken free from the infirmary in Autobot City. Tracks looked at Jazz again through new eyes. There was a ruthlessness there he was suddenly wary of. Tracks was quite content with his existence, shallow though it was. As far as he was concerned the Autobots no longer needed his guns.

"You don't know that was a Decepticon attack." Tracks said, switching tracks to try to appeal to Jazz sense of logic. His human counterpart had spoken to Tracks of the explosion when it happened but Tracks himself had not followed the news closely.

"There were Decepticon brands left by the hundreds all over the site," Jazz was projecting his own anger now, and this time Tracks knew where it was being directed. "This was our responsibility."

"Jazz we spoke..." Skids began only to be savagely cut-off.

"Not now Skids. Tracks I am your commanding officer. You will stop the self-centred preening now!" A Stetson wearing human walked up to Tracks at this point, looked curiously at the Mazda and the Scion and its payload, before dropping into the driver’s seat.

"Tex, these are friends of mine," said Tracks pointedly. "They were just leaving."

"You are coming with us," said Jazz. Tracks piped the conversation through his in car speakers for the humans benefit.

"Tracks is retired now," said the human in a thick Texas accented drawl. "He served his time, let him get on with his life. He deserves one away from service now. Can’t you guys respect the Vets?"

"Tex," Jazz' voice was considerably more gentle. "We all want things we can't have. Tracks is not retired. He is AWOL and now is the time to come back to the fold."

"No Jazz." There was a long pause while nobody said anything. Eventually Tex spoke.

"We've got a display allocation let's go."

"Jazz we should be leaving," added Skids, seemingly willing to let Tracks go.

"If you don't come now, I will transform right here, and ensure everyone within earshot of my voice knows who you are. I don't imagine you will be allowed to enter one of these tournaments again." Jazz' voice was cold as space. Tracks did not doubt that he would. If Decepticons had sought blame for the Arlington bombing, Tracks had no idea if they had, then likely having his entry revoked would be getting away from here lightly.

"Tex, I'm going with them, I'm sorry. I don't want you involved in this."

"Tracks! Stand up for yourself."

"Jazz’ day will come Tex, but for the moment I will have to leave you here. I am sorry." The driver’s door of the blue Corvette then opened. With what grace remained Tex stepped out. Skids was already turning away back towards the road, while Jazz waited for Tracks to follow the laden trailer. Tracks looked back through rearward sensors past the string of immaculate cars to the lone figure left standing behind.

That had been yesterday. The convoy had reached the border and were waiting to be processed by startled US customs officials. One walked back to Jazz now leaned in the window, conversing with the Autobot. The boom gate opened and the white Mazda RX8 led the way across into Mexico, rapidly picking up speed. Tracks followed with the grey Scion picking up speed behind him. Two more days until they reached Hound in Guatemala. From what Skids had said Wheeljack, leading a group of four, was around a day ahead of them and should be about to cross into Guatemala. Then Tracks would find out the full story of this so called emergency and why Jazz had determined the Decepticon threat would arrive here.

Next Chapter 24:

 

Another good one, I can't wait to see the next!

 

great chapter, tracks is still vain glorious. jazz should have boxed his audio sensors in.
it would be nice to see prowl brought back to his old self.

 

Chapter 24: Decoys & Decepticons

The armoured scout vehicle had sat on the Vera Cruz dock for several hours before Shockwave finally decided to confront Swindle. He spent a good three minutes haranguing the Combaticon before Decepticharge looked over the vehicle with internal sensor to find the vehicle sparkless. Decepticharge chuckled briefly to himself before allowing a more public veneer of anger take hold.

"Shockwave we have been deceived. This is a sparkless husk of Swindle's former frame. Swindle and the Autobot are long gone." Shockwave paused. Decepticharge could imagine the monocular gaze centring on himself, but the Honda did not wait, driving into the large warehouse opening and driving part way down it abandoned length, following the path Swindle and Smokescreen had taken hours earlier.

"Hold." Shockwave's voice echoed around the room. Shockwave had spoken in the open air, not over a radio frequency. Decepticharge turned. The blue Mazda RX8 had followed him into the vast abandoned stock room, and transformed in the darkness of the Guatemalan evening inside the ageing wooden structure. Decepticharge followed suit.

"The trail is cold Decepticharge, we must find another method of tracking Swindle. Swindle will be predictable, and respond to my hails." Shockwave, who admired consistency of effort, no doubt expected Swindle to behave as before. Without the edge his former Combaticon frame gave him as a decoy, Decepticharge thought it unlikely Swindle would give away his position with a communication this time. Decepticharge turned away in frustration as Shockwave parodied himself, demonstrating the decay of Earth command under his supervision. Just for a moment both Decepticons had their backs to one corner of this section of warehouse.

Decepticharge sensed a commotion behind him and felt an arm drape itself roughly around his neck and disappear leaving behind a tingling sensation as a line crackled around his neck and restrained the Decepticon.

"Sssdand down Shhhockwave," urged a sibilant and heavily accented whisper. Decepticharge turned his head against the restraint. A dark figure had him by the throat with what felt like an energon garrotte, and particularly ugly weapon that if the new figure tensed, would decapitate him. The room was now lit from the faint purple glow from the filament in Shockwave's arm mounted lasing chamber, but as Decepticharge got his head twisted around, rubbing small grooves open in the plating on his neck as he did so, the gun arm was pointed away, the dark figure had the drop on the Military Operations Commander.

"Ssseassse ssstruggling liddle one," the voice continued, and for the moment Decepticharge complied while he worked away at some method of deactivating the garrotte.

"Ravage," said Shockwave. "What is the reason for this action?" The single yellow eye stared towards the two Decepticons as dispassionately as ever. Ravage kept up a casual but insistent pressure on Decepticharge's neck. But Ravage! Decepticharge almost yelped with delight. He remembered the Ravage of old, his impressive stealth and sabotage capabilities merged with his loyalty to Soundwave. He had been aloof before and uncommunicative, talking only with Soundwave, and even then using a language other than one of the generally used Cybetronian dialects. Ravage in one of these upright Binaltech frames would be a formidable, even supreme warrior, if his loyalty to Soundwave could be redirected in the Communicators absence.

"A desssd," said Ravage, his voice, though quiet, echoed in the large room. "You were afder my adention?"

"Yes Ravage," said Decepticharge from his restrained position. "A glorious call to arms to rekindle the cause that was lost. One day we will regain contact with Cybertron, we should be ready for that day as the masters of Earth."

At no time did Ravage look at Decepticharge, keeping a careful watch on Shockwave, who added nothing further to Decepticharge's statement. Decepticharge was about to tense to make his bid for freedom when he was suddenly spun around like a top, the garrotte fell away and the burnished metal Honda struggled to stay upright as equilibrium was torqued away from him.

Regaining his balance, the Decepticon noticed Ravage was gone; a black Chevrolet Corvette was pointed towards the entrance to the car sized passageway running one side of the warehouse.

"You ssseek the Combadicon? I can dake you do him. And you can exssplain to me your grand viszzhion." With that statement the Corvette moved off.

"Yes we shall," said Shockwave pointedly from behind Decepticharge. He started to turn but the blue Mazda RX8 was moving in the Corvette's wake now. Fuming at his impotence, but elated at having secured such a capable warrior to the cause, Decepticharge assumed the shape of the Honda S2000 and moved off towards the exit and into the streets of Vera Cruz, following Ravage westwards towards the highlands in the distance.

Next: Chapter 25: Presentations & Submissions

 

Man, who IS decepticharge! Ravage...what a badass.

Nice chapter, as usual.

 

AE: that will be revealed in only a couple of chapters now...

 

Chapter 25: Presentations & Submissions

Hound looked around at the gathering, and was vaguely pleased. A convoy of Autobots had arrived yesterday and now six transformers were gathered in front of where Hound had installed himself for this impromptu briefing. While he knew another four would arrive in around half a day’s time, certain influences were raising tensions within the group and Hound decided to bring things forward to forestall further argument.

The red and gold figure of Swerve stood in the middle of the group, hands clutched together before him protectively. Gathered around him were the newcomers. To Swerve's left was the red and grey figure of Windcharger standing bolt upright looking forward, his hands clasped behind his back. Standing on Swerve's other side and behind, leaning, almost slumping, against Swerve's rock formation was the silver and black figure of Grimlock. Seated and leaning forward with his arms around his knees was the silver and red Blue... Silverstreak while the white and blue of Wheeljack lounged himself comfortably on the other side of Swerve. Just to Wheeljack's left was the disarmed and nervous figure in black of Dead End.

The Decepticon's presence had raised tensions and caused an argument between himself and Wheeljack. Hound, while personally having remembered his own disgust towards the Stunticons at the time of Sunstreaker's death, his conscience railed against executing Dead End on the spot. He wondered whether the pathetic figure Dead End presented all by his lonesome had affected his thinking on the issue. Wheeljack and Windcharger had both been for executing him, while Silverstreak had talked of moderation and rehabilitation. Swerve, who had had longer to get used to his presence, had backed up Hound. Strangest of all, the one he expected the most problems with, Sideswipe aside; Grimlock had voiced no opinion whatsoever and had done nothing other than brood, which was the only thing he'd done since Wheeljack forged the path into the clearing with the others at his heels. Wheeljack had explained some of why this was, but it still left Hound disconcerted about the former Dinobot.

It was time. Swerve was starting to fidget and Dead End looked like he might take flight at any second. The increased number of Autobots had not helped his disposition at all. He kept looking across in the direction of Grimlock. They all seemed changed, and the Scout wondered if he looked as different in their eyes.

"Thank you all for coming, I have somewhat of an explanation for why I called you here. There is some back story to get through. Swerve knows some of it already, but first if you'd like to explain your discoveries?"

"Sure."

"Briefly?" Swerve paused at the subsidiary request, looking at Hound is if contemplating a comeback.

"I got here three days ago, when I did Hound first asked my to look at some pebbles." Swerve, perhaps feeling self-conscious stayed where he was in the midst of the audience, but tossed some pebbles around to each of them. Dead End looked like he was being tossed a grenade while both Grimlock and Windcharger let the pebbles fall at their feet ignored. Silverstreak, not untangling quickly enough from his seated position, dropped his and fumbled for it on the ground.

"Cybertronium?" The response came from Wheeljack not unexpectedly. The inventor was intensely familiar with the substance and was peering closely, rotating the nugget around with a prodded finger.

"Yes it is."

"Looks very rich," continued Wheeljack.

"Unusually, even uniquely so. As far as I can go with a field sensors I would rate it above 95% pure Cybertronium," Wheeljack looked up sharply at the comment. "It is unnaturally pure. There are also two seams, I discovered a second yesterday Hound, running away from this Mountain of Cybertronium as pure as I've ever heard of before." Swerve paused for dramatic effect.

"Cybertronium has not been previously discovered on this world by either Autobot or by humans."

"We never found any either," Dead End added. When most turned to look at him after his comment the black figure seemed to shrink under their gaze.

"Thanks Swerve. I believe I know what is causing this," Hound returned to the conversation. "I came up here three weeks ago with a human archaeological expedition. Wheeljack, Silverstreak, Windcharger and I have been here before."

"That cleft there which continues into that depression beyond was where the Nemesis lay after arriving on Earth. There was no-one on board as all the Decepticons were on the Ark at impact so it took some time to be re-discovered. When it was, Megatron liberated from the wreckage a device he called 'The Heart of Cybertron', which allowed Megatron to personally wield the power of the Nemesis. We were driven back to the Ark before Perceptor, Brawn and Bumblebee managed to destroy it on a Spec Ops mission that still makes me shudder to think about today."

"Brawn once spoke to me of that mission," said Wheeljack. "Despite everything he said the tough old petro-rabbit got freaked-out by that mission." There was a pause. Brawn and Bumblebee had both since died casualties of this never ending war. After the pause started to get awkward Hound started up again.

"The Heart of Cybertron was stable enough in the environs of the Nemesis' engine room, and within Megatron's body, but it put out quite a bit a radiation and some other things. With no power to the engine room shields, and several millions of years worth of decay, the surrounding Mountain, was contaminated. Much of the radiation disappeared along with what was left of the Nemesis, but it appears to have had several effects over the years."

"The local Mayan Indians liberated a piece of the wreckage and it was used as a great symbol of some kind. No reliable records from that time exist, and the Mayan race itself was almost wiped out by... something. The latest theory is that a great drought killed them by the hundreds of thousands leaving several citadels, like this one, abandoned. But it remains a theory."

"That 'holy relic', a fragment of irradiated Nemesis shielding, spent several decades in a Museum in Guatemala City before arriving at a University in Mexico City. After several years of study they started branching out into wilder theories, one of which led them to seek out an Autobot. That became hard because it was not long after the evacuation and those of us still here at the time had gone to ground. Eventually they found me by accident when I offered my services when I found out they were looking for resources to send an expedition here."

"A lot of this is my speculation now, but during the years of its study the chunk of shielding was measured and irradiated by several other human built devices and its nature was altered slightly. When we got here, the radiation reacted with something that had been here all along, I don't understand any of it, but atop the ziggurat over there is something which reacted."

"Someone, several years back, re-assembled a recognisable portion of the Nemesis drive room, and some of its computers have been brought on line and camouflaged that I only found through my experience with holograms. That's when I summoned you. Those computers and the remnants of the Nemesis engine room are customising this planet."

"I think that the Heart of Cybertron was the raw power behind the Nemesis. The engine room itself modified and customised the output for use. Because its only had what radiation was left up here, and what resources available locally, it will take thousands; maybe even millions of years, but left unchecked this will customise Earth into a large clone of Cybertron."

"You are joking, are you not?" The voice come from Windcharger but it now had a polished rich timbre that Hound did not remember him having previously. He still maintained an over-straight posture.

"Why not destroy the computers and be done with it?" added Wheeljack more practically.

"This is going to sound corny, but it's survived this long and is still potent, so I don't think it will be that simple."

"I think I need to go over this device," said Wheejack. "When Skids gets here between us we should be able to diagnose this thing before it becomes a problem. All that Cybertronium scares me though how much of it is there Swerve?"

Wheeljack stood and started to move towards the ziggurat. In the brief moment of disorganisation a noise broke out from the entrance to the site and a red Dodge Viper appeared engine note bellowing. Dead End screamed and the rest of the group was still reacting to the sudden appearance when the speeding figure transformed and stood and ran towards the group, weapon outstretched, face twisted into a rictus of vengeful anger.

"Oh frak, Swerve!" Hound had had a prepared plan if Sideswipe showed up before anyone else. Swerve raced to grab the incoming figure with Hound fighting his way through the astonished onlookers.

"You bastards," screamed Sideswipe. "You're protecting him!" Dead End whimpered and actually appeared to cower until it became a transformation, tucking down into a black and silver Viper.

"Sideswipe! Stand down!" Wheeljack was up now while Hound had joined Swerve into trying to restrain the maddened warrior as Dead End attempted to flee away along the site, higher into the former citadel.

"That waste of metal and his sparkless cronies killed Sunstreaker, don't make me hurt.." Sideswipe lost what patience he had left and laid Hound out with a powerful left cross to Hound's face, getting through the cranial armour to flatten him to the ground in stasis lock. He then grabbed one of Swerve's hands holding his torso and using superior strength started to crush the hand and peel it away from him. Whimpering in pain from delicate sensors screaming and overloading Swerve fell away from Sideswipe and sat. Windcharger stepped into Sideswipes path with one hand held in a human stopping sign.

"Sideswipe my friend all that is in the past if we can find a-urk" Sideswipe spun into a roundhouse right spin kick that landed on Windchargers chin, lifting him bodily into the air and dropping him cold on the ground. Wheeljack crash tackled Sideswipe to the ground while he was off balance from the kick. Silverstreak walked over and pulled the weapon from Sideswipe's grasp.

"You are in pain Sideswipe. Dead End's passing will not make your pain easier to bear. Let us all into your spark and allow us to share your grief. Your spark has drifted from its true path. Let me help you find yourself again." There was murder in Sideswipe's eyes, even acquiring purple tints to the blue, but it affected Silverstreak not an iota as he knelt by Sideswipe's head. Swerve had now added his weight as Autobots started a strange metallic 'stacks on' to subdue the orphaned Dodge.

"Get the frak off of me now Wheeljack." Sideswipe freed his left arm to strike at Wheeljack. Silverstreak leant forward and pinned the arm in place using only his weight to hold it in place.

There was commotion from behind as another vehicle crested the paths rise to the citdel plateau, and a blue rally car flew airborne off the crest at incredible speed, leaving the strange boxer thumping engine note ringing through the ruins. The Subaru Impreza unfolded into Smokescreen who ran to join the fight to subdue Sideswipe. Between the four them they held him pinned but Sideswipe was possessed. A heavy sigh sounded off to the left and a large figure walked over and raised black foot and stomped down hard on Sideswipes cranial armour, finally sending Sideswipe into stasis.

"Me Grimlock feel Sideswipe's pain," said the former Dinobot, the first words anyone could remember him saying since the troupe had left Nevada. "Me Grimlock say we throw two in pit and wait till there be one." The assembled Autobots turned to look at Grimlock. Smokescreen sat back from the limp Sideswipe and sighed.

"Damn it's good to see you walking around Silverstreak. That was not fun. We met Sideswipe at the base of the climb. He attacked my new friend before we said we were coming here. I guess he decided his priorities laid up here."

"What friend? You were the only Autobot not accounted for," said Wheeljack.

"Uhhh yeah. About that. I had hoped for better circumstances to introduce him." The sand coloured Jeep Wrangler had crested the rise in the mean time and driven up towards the assembled Autobots.

"I met him down at Vera Cruz," continued Smokescreen and despite our history I want you guys to listen to him. He does have a story worth telling."

"Him not Autobot," said Grimlock, for the first time drawing his energo sword, despite the presence of Dead End since arriving at the Mountain top. In the background Dead End had returned and walked back towards the group.

"Swindle?" The tan and black transformer unfolded, purple Decepticon brand displayed prominently on his jutting torso.

"So much for surprise, greetings Dead End, you don't look well." The Decepticon turned to face his once deadly foes. "I don't know the purpose of this gathering, but I heard the call and I came. I come bringing you an offer that is in your best interests to at least listen too. Look beyond the insignia, and recognise a fellow Cybertronian just for a moment and have a listen to a tale of economic realities and how to avoid long term starvation. As the humans say, this jive, sells itself."

Next: Chapter 26: Fight & Flight

 

Sweet!

 

Just got caught up with the last few chapters. This is coming along very nicely, Falcadore. Great job!

 

You'll have to come back more regularly Xaxis   - Chapter 26 is finidhed already, just holding off a day or so to let Chapte 25 settle.

 

Chapter 26: Fight & Flight

It was usual procedure for prospective clients to want to confer after the initial offer had been made, so Swindle took the opportunity to explore this legendary site where the Nemesis had ended its final flight. The crash site itself was sufficiently ancient that it gave off no sign of once having held a Cybetronian pocket battleship. Swindle transformed into the sand coloured Jeep Wrangler and proceeded to move further afield.

Swindle moved towards the one part of the site that held any interest to him. To exhumed grave of the Nemesis. Where the treeline met the depression he transformed and stood, turning briefly to look at the conferring Autobots. Dead End continued to slink amongst them, and for the moment the Decepticon appeared to have been accepted into their midst. He wondered about that particular back story, and speculated over whther there was a possible lever to employ to help get what he wanted from the Autobots.

He decided they would probably defer. Wheeljack was the senior Autobot present, but Jazz was on his way, so it seemed either they would come to a consensus or wait for Jazz. But why Jazz? One of them also said Prowl was coming, Optimus Prime's long serving ADC who was thought to have perished during the battle for Autobot City.

Somewhere deep in Swindle spark, the piece of him that was Bruticus stirred again. It had stirred when he had laid optics on Dead End, recognising a fellow Gestalted warrior. The imbecilic monster stirred again. Swindle braced himself once more for the wave of pain to engulf him as his fellow Combaticons tried to get his attention. He was determined not to be bowed by a headache. The pain did not come however, and a voice reached out to him through the ether via secure Decepticon frequency.

"Swindle, do not react to my voice." The voice was flat and cold with little inflection. Not far removed from Soundwave's infact. Swindle cursed to himself bitterly at his failure. Despite all his careful planning Shockwave had arrived to dash all hope of him securing a future on this fetid mudball independant of the actions of others. He felt a sudden hatred of Shockwave that passed over and returned to contempt like a summer breeze. Passion had its place, but not at the negotiation table. A table he was once more metaphorically seated at. Bring it on you purple protoform.

"So you found me anyway Shockwave. Congratulations. There may be something to your inflated reputation after all."

"It was I, Decepticharge who found you Combaticon," said a second voice. Decepticharge was not a familiar name, but the voice was vaguely familiar. Why did 'Decepticharge' feel it neccessary to identify himself upfront? Was it because he was familiar to Swindle and yet wanted to keep that knowledge hidden? Bruticus seemed to agree in the strange wordless way the behemoth communicated while the Combaticons existed seperately. Was then this new voice another gestalted warrior? Plainly it wasn't Onslaught or any of his former cohorts. A Constructicon? The voice suggested intelligence, Mixmaster or Hook? Or Razorclaw?

"That matters not 'Decepticharge'" Swindle added extra scorn to the name, as if pronouncing its bearer unworthy to wear a name other than it had received at template. Antogonise the newcomer. Let his temper tell Swindle secrets Decepticharge himself would hold close. "I tell you what I told ol' one eye. I am no longer a Decepticon, and I reject your philosophies and goals. You hold nothing for me but emptiness."

"And yet your spark calls and longs to return to our banner despite your words." Again the briefest touch of another Gestalt. Swindle could not identify it.

"Despite your value to the cause as a limb of Bruticus, you no longer form that limb and we can retain your clever decoy as a bargaining chip to get Onslaught on our side. I thank you for the gambit."

"What then, a return to the Decepticons of old? A glorious challenge of conquest of the Autobots? A peace for a purpose? We lost. Unicron gutted our army and Galvatron's madness dragged us into desperation. I will never again put myself in the position where I have to beg for energon to survive. What do you have that can guarantee a future when I can get the Autobots to put me in the lap of luxury?"

"He hasss a future that will give usss a Cssybertron of our own," hissed a third voice. Three figures manifested theselves in the treeline, still hidden in shadow, but distinct enought that Swindle could pick out details. The blue figure of Shockwave was obvious enough. The silver and purple figure was probably Decepticharge, the third...

An animalstic head topped a black frame the seemed to melt back into the trees almost as soon as it had appeared. Running through other spectrums of light, even then was difficult to see the figure apart from a pair of glinting red eyes. As recognition dawned Swindle suddenly felt afraid for himself. Against a reduced Shockwave and this stranger Swindle was confident he could hold his own. If this was Ravage, then Swindle had to take care indeed.

Almost as frightening was the staement itself. What could that mean? Bruticus stirred again, and Swindle turned towards the uneven stone structure that dominated the site. There was something about it... Swindle thought he could feel something being given off. His sensors warned him of an unusual radiation that was not harmful, but might if it was stronger.

An alien radition. Three Decepticons who were not what they appeared, and yet were confident, despite being outnumbered two to one. Three to one. Site that once held a ruined Decepticon battleship. A battleship Megatron himself had commissioned. And commissioned its power core. Behind his red visor Swindles eyes went wide. It would mean re-enslavement to the Decepticons. Enslavement to Shockwave and too... too... Bruticus cried a name, half heard and unexpected.

Swindle stood confused. There was no future here. These Decepticons held not his future, but his death. Now or later, it would matter not. For better or worse Swindle's die was cast. The Autobots were his future.

Swindle turned and fled into the open area without a further word and ran around one corner of the archeological site, heading back to the relative safety of the Autobots. Even if they thought he was leading an attack they would likely only wound him. The look on the Decepticons behind him now was only death. Bruticus stirred again, but this is no communication. Pain gripped Swindle's spark, a frim grip squeezing the life from him, riminding him that a portion of his spark was not his and a desire to return and form into comfort of the hive mind. Not now Onslaught raged Swindle, suddenly he wishing the security of the gestalt was achievable. Swindle stumbled but straightened quickly careening into a blue figure that was braced for the impact from the distracted Combaticon. He knew he needed help and made a last desperate call as he stumbled between the ancient masonry.

"Blast Off if you're in orbit track my location and fire, donut pattern. Now!" There was no reply and now energy rained forth from the heavens. Swindle stood and ran once more, taking a moment to sweep Shockwave's legs from underneath him with his legs. Turning to look behind him for signs of pursuit in other directions, he failed to see what was coming and ran into a dark figure. He bounced and would have fallen backwards onto his posterior had the dark figure not extended both arms, crossed over and tossed something around Swindle's neck. He felt the chord bite into his neck and the tingle of energon running along the chord. In amoment Swindle looked at the head of the darkened figure, it was animalistic, looking like an exagerated version of a panther or a jaguar.

"Ravage?" The figure did not answer verbally but nodded ever so slightly. Light momentarily danced in one haemoglobin red eye, reflected from something beyond Swindle's line of sight. Swindle knew then. He had spent his life as a gambler, a risk taker, a wildcard in the pack. The 'Con with the resources if you had the plan. All those risks, pennies taken from the goddess of furtune. A debt now to be reclaimed.

"Oh frak." Swindle detected the tension in Ravage's upper musculature build up and there was a sudden pain around his neck. The last thing Swindle saw was the sky tumbling backwards but there was no feeling and the great darkness came to claim him.

"Until a..."

Next: Chapter 27: Offence & Defence

 

Yeah, been kinda busy lately. I'm back in regularly now, so keep 'em coming! Chapter 26 was awesome! Damn, poor Swindle...

 

im saving all these and printing them out as a book to read one day haha MAN those are long! Im very impressed...

81 pages on word processor  

 

RH: you need the master copy! I've been changing a few things here are there as I go - corrections at some other tsuff, like changing my fanchar 'Hawk' to GIJoe Hawk. My geography seriously needs work ATM because I've not been reading my notes. Vera Cruz is in Mexico, not Guatemala - but going back and changing it would interrupt the 'chi' or whatever... there will be a final version which will be more streamlined than the somewaht rough chapter by chapter versions.


And I'm running out of chapters now, everyone is on the Mountain...

But fear not - with Sunstreaker, Red Alert, Blaster, Rollbar, Ricochet, Mirage and Optimus Prime, a sequel is underway.