CHAPTER THREE
--Cybertron, the past--
Sipping idly from his can of oil, Roller lazily raised a remote control at the viewscreen, having had enough of the unfunny comedy act being played in Altihex. The screen changed to show a large, white and red mech standing before a crowd of people.
"--Having your life determined by your alt mode is against the Grand Plan as set out by the Guiding Hand. Why should one suffer because they turn into a microscope and not a bulldozer or assault tank?"
"That was Pious Maximus protesting against ratioism at a Cyberutopian rally eighteen months before his disappearance," a newscaster voiced over the scene. "He has since reemerged with a statement in which he recants his faith in the Knights of Cyber--"
Roller changed the channel again.
"--Has beaten Dominus Ambus' The Ascetic Cybertronian as Protihex's bestseller--"
Again.
"Why should it matter if your were forged or constructed cold? Nova Prime's program has brought nothing to us but a legacy of virulent racism and--!"
Again.
"--Can confirm that the murder of High Councilor Sherma is currently under investigation. Rumors are circulating that the Watchers may be responsible, given their tendency to--"
Roller sighed, turning the viewscreen off. Some days, there was just nothing worthwhile on.
--The Lost Light, present--
"So, what movies did Bluestreak show today, Ratchet?" Crosscut asked as he refilled his glass.
"Ah, it was all Earth flicks," the medic muttered, swirling around his own drink. "The first one we started watching was about some killer shark. Then there were these two musicals-- which I don't remember a single thing about-- and then we finished off with one about a planet ruled by primates."
"Wow, humans sure do come up with crazy ideas," Crosscut said. "I'm thinking about attending the next Movie Night to get some ideas for my own play."
"Fine, but fair warning: some of those films are really bad."
"All right, places everyone!" Rewind called, clapping his hands. "Nightbeat, back to the investigation. Security cameras spotted you visiting Checkup's former workplace: the Deltaran Medical Facility."
"Yup," Nightbeat said. "I was there to speak with Scanner, Checkup's superior. And let me tell you, I've seen bombs more cheerful than him. Imagine Ratchet without the bedside manner."
"Hey!"
--The past--
"Checkup, eh?" The portly red and white medic snorted, leaning back in his seat at his desk. "That old rusthead was bound to fall apart sooner or later."
"He didn't die of natural causes," Nightbeat told him. "He was murdered. Shot in the back."
Scanner sneered at him. "Are you suggesting I had something to do with it."
"I'm not here to make accusations. I was simply wondering if you had any background info on him. I tried asking his sparkmate, but she's in too much grief to have a full conversation with."
Scanner grunted as he complied with the detective's request, downloading data from his terminal onto a spare data slug.
"Probably not much more on this than what you already know. Forged in Perihex, served in the Primal Vanguard, received a Novic Medal... and he was a part of the Malware Brigade."
"Was he?" Nightbeat asked, taking the data slug. "That's news to me. Thank you, Scanner. Your help is greatly appreciated."
Scanner simply grunted as he went back to work.
* * *
Tumbler had been in Mechaforensics long enough to not shudder at the sight of someone's body parts strewn out before him. Even so, it still felt like a chilling practice to him to this day.
Noticing the bullet holes dotting several pieces of Sherma's armor, Tumbler said, "So he was shot."
"Yes," Prowl replied. "Several times."
"Thanks for pointing that out, I wouldn't have known otherwise," Tumbler said flippantly. "Guess whoever killed him really wanted him dead."
"Uh-huh. Anyway...." Prowl held up a vial of blue-colored grains, which he handed to Tumbler. "I found powdered glass imbedded into his boots and traction treads. Any idea what it is?"
"Cerulean glass," Tumbler answered once he had examined the vial. "Only place you'd find it is at Translucentica Heights in Northern Iacon."
Prowl grinned as he drew a small gold card. "Well done."
"What's that?"
"A search warrant."
* * *
The Ark Memorial Grounds were a decent place to visit if one wished to find some peace and quiet. Dominated by a monument of the lost ship from which it took its name and filled with relaxing benches, one would be hard pressed to find a more serene location.
While Optronix took a seat on one of the benches, Ratchet took the time to admire the central monument, reading the memorial plaque placed on its base.
Until their safe return: Galvatron of Protihex, Jhiaxus of Tesarus Minor, Straxus of Yuss, Cyclonus of Tetrahex, Scourge--
"Heroes one and all."
Ratchet turned around to see the arrival of Optronix's contact within the High Council. Clad in white and light green armor plating with wings mounted on his arms, the councilor gave the medic a warm smile.
"I cannot tell you how much I've spent on search missions."
"I take it you have a liking for exploration?" Ratchet inquired.
"I have a knack for lost things: the Ark, Luna 1, the Titans...."
Optronix came up from behind the councilor. "This is Ratchet, chief medical officer. He's a friend of mine. Ratchet, this is--"
"I know who he is." Ratchet smiled as he shook hands with the other mech. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Councilor Shockwave."
--Present--
"Wait, what?!" Tailgate exclaimed. "You knew Shockwave?! I thought he was one of the bad guys!"
"He wasn't always," Ratchet said with a remorseful sigh. "He was once a member of the High Council and perhaps the only decent one--"
Crosscut coughed.
"--at the time," the medic hastily added. "He was good friends with Optronix and strongly supported Sentinel Prime's choice of making him his future successor."
"And look how well that ended up," Skids said dryly. He then gave an odd look at his drink. "Say, Swerve, I don't mean any offense, but this stuff tastes awful."
"I know, I've been getting all sorts of complaints," Swerve said. "I checked the engex distillery to see if something was wrong with it, but... I don't know. Maybe Whirl's been sneaking enriched nucleon again."
"So, Ratchet," Rewind said. "Back to the Memorial Grounds."
--The past--
"Sherma had always been a shady one," Shockwave murmured, resting his chin on his fist in contemplation. "He has frequently defended some of the Decepticons' actions during the Great War and has been known to read some of Trannis' work. I'm sure Proteus and others have made sure to keep watch on him."
"You don't think someone within the High Council is behind his murder, do you?" Optronix asked.
"It wouldn't be unlike Proteus to eliminate someone who may, in his eyes, be a threat to the peace. However, I am not ready to make accusations just yet."
"Even so, it's worth looking into. Did Sherma have any fellow... sympathizers?"
Shockwave thought for a moment. "Momus, for one. Ratbat and Contrail strike me as possibilities, but I cannot tell you for sure."
"How about rivals?"
Shockwave sniffed. "Plenty. Proteus, Xeon, Avalon, Levitacus... he wasn't one of the most popular members of the council."
"And you? What were your thoughts on him?"
Shockwave gave him an emotionless glance. "Even with you, Optronix, I am hesitant to be open about my feelings."
"I understand," Optronix said. "Where can I find Momus?"
"In Translucentica Heights. I cannot guarantee you will get much from him though."
"Nonetheless, I must try. Thank you, councilor."
Shockwave smiled. "And thank you, Optronix."
"For what?"
"For proving me right about you."
No comments:
Post a Comment