CHAPTER NINE
--The Lost Light, the bridge--
"Well, the hyper-drive still has fully recharged yet, but Que says he's gotten into contact with someone in the Secret Service," Rodimus announced as he stepped onto the bridge with Perceptor and Que behind, the latter carrying WALL-E in his hands. "They should be meeting up with us soon."
"How soon?" Ultra Magnus said, turning from the viewport.
"Soon soon. Like, any minute now." Rodimus then turned to Drift, who was waiting by the command chair with Skids. "Drift, would you...?"
"Sure." Drift beckoned Skids to step forward. Upon seeing WALL-E, the latter Autobot's optics widened.
"WALL-E? What in Primus' name are you doing here?"
"Long story," the robot replied. "You probably--"
"And since when did you learn to speak full sentences? And in Cybertronian?"
"You can thank me for that," Que said. "Rodimus needed me to install one in him so the rest of the crew could understand him easier."
"Oh." Skids frowned slightly. "No offense but I found it more... challenging to speak with him when he didn't talk. You know, getting to understand body language and stuff."
"Yeah, well, not everyone on this ship is looking for a challenge, sad to say," Rodimus said. "Besides, we have more pressing matters-- like how we're going to get WALL-E back to his timeline and finding out how he even got here in the first place."
"Good news in that respect," Mainframe said from his station. "Autobot ship exiting hyperspace."
Rodimus grinned. "Awesome."
--Later, Shuttle Bay 1--
"You know, when Que told me I'd may see some familiar faces, I didn't think he meant really familiar." The black and white Autobot broke into a wide grin as he stepped off of his ship. "Skids, man, it's been ages."
"I'll say," Skids said with a grin. "Good to see you again, Ricochet."
The flame-decal bearing Autobot joined his fellow agent and exchanged pats on the back with him. Standing off to the side with Ultra Magnus, Que, and WALL-E, Rodimus cleared his throat.
"So, uh, Ricochet... you got that Transwarp drive we need?"
"Sure do," Ricochet said, turning to face the captain. "What do you need it for again?"
"To bring this little guy home," Rodimus replied, gesturing at WALL-E.
Ricochet got down on his knees to look at the small robot more closely. "What is he, some sort of Mini-Con?"
"Um, no, he's an Earth robot. From the future."
"Nifty." The black Autobot straightened up. "What does he turn into? A gun? A mobile turret? A portable space bridge?"
"He doesn't--"
"A perfect replica of himself?"
"He doesn't turn into anything," Rodimus said.
"Oh." Ricochet rubbed his chin. "What can he do?"
"I can compact stuff into cubes," WALL-E said.
"Is that all?"
"...Pretty much."
"Bummer." Ricochet rubbed his hands together. "So, let me just get the Transwarp drive hooked up to you engines and then I'll be on my way."
"You're not staying?" Skids asked.
"'Fraid not. Prowl's got me on this mission and he wants it done asap. You know how pushy he gets."
"Yeah," Skids murmured. "I hear ya."
--Hab Suite 208--
"So... what were you trying to accomplish with that story?" Chromedome asked as he entered his and Rewind's room.
The archivist sighed as he seated himself on his recharge slab. "You know I love history...."
"Yeah, but... it felt like you were trying to find a deeper meaning to it all."
Rewind was silent for a moment, keeping his gaze fixated on the floor. "Everyone is connected, Domey... one way or another." He then looked up at Chromedome. "This wasn't my first story session, and it might not be the last. I'm treating it like a puzzle, trying to piece them all together."
"Into what, exactly?"
Rewind gave him a meaningful look. Then, the realization dawned on Chromedome.
"You're trying to find Dominus Ambus through these connections."
Rewind nodded, casting his gaze down again. "Someone must know what happened to him. Someone must have known him or saw him right before he vanished. He has to be out there, Domey."
Chromedome sat down next to Rewind and patted him on the back.
"Don't worry. We'll find him," he said reassuringly. "I promised you that we would and I'm not backing down from that promise. No matter what happens on this quest, we'll find him."
A sound akin to a sob escaped Rewind's vocal processor before hugging the mnemosurgeon's side. "I'm still holding you to that...."
--Swerve's--
"Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through."
The bar had not been reopened for more than twenty minutes and it was already bustling with activity. Brainstorm squeezed his way through the busy crowd, clutching his briefcase, before finally reaching a table which Atomizer sat at. The inventor sat himself down, setting his briefcase onto the table.
"So busy," he muttered.
"I'll say," Atomizer said as he refilled his glass. "But what else did you expect? We're a long way from Maccadam's, so it's good to have some sort of substitute."
"I'll drink to that," Brainstorm said as he began to undo the locks of his briefcase.
Atomizer looked down at it and cleared his throat. "Oh, er, Swerve's put up a new rule. No guns, no swords, and, uh, no briefcases, so, er...."
The inventor was undeterred as he proceeded to undo the last clasp.
"Brainstorm? Are you even listening? You can't do that."
"Oh, really?" Brainstorm said quietly. "Well, allow me to let you in on a little secret."
He then lifted the briefcase's lid. All around him, everyone dropped down to the floor.
"I can do whatever the heck I want."
EPILOGUE
--Cybertron, 1,500 years ago--
"--Being made to ensure that an event like this never happens again," the visage of Councilor Proteus was saying as the viewscreen transmitted his speech in Iacon. "The Clampdown is still in full effect; in short time, no one will dare disrupt the peace."
"Changeover," an Institute worker said to his coworker as he walked over to the latter's station. "Anything to report?"
"They brought in someone earlier today," the other worker said. "A High Councilor-- name of Avalon, I think. Lobe's been talking about how much fun he and his cerebrosurgeons are going to have with--"
The second worker trailed off as he changed his viewscreen to the room Avalon had been transported to-- only to receive nothing but static.
"Ah, slag, not again," he muttered. "It's been acting like this all day. Dunno if it's the storm or what."
"I'll go check the array outside," the first worker said. "You stay here and watch the screen."
"Wait, Lobe's trying to get a hold of me." The second worker tuned into his communicator and listened. He then said to his coworker, "He says that someone broke into the room they were keeping Avalon and caused a blackout. They've just brought the lights back on and...."
"What?" the first worker asked.
"He says Avalon's spark is missing."
* * *
The lone Triorian Guardsman stood atop the rooftop of a building in Ultrix, far away from his designated station at the Grand Imperium. If his superiors knew he was out here, they would put an end to his life faster than one could cross the Tygun Span. But he was past the point of caring. He knew there were more important matters to attend to.
He hadn't been waiting for long when the being he was supposed to meet materialized before him. They were certainly not Cybertronian, nor were they even mechanical, but they had an armored appearance that allowed them to blend in with others.
Holding out a clawed hand, the alien said, "Do you have it?"
"Affirmative, General," the Triple Changer said as he handed the encased spark to his contact.
The alien took it and examined it closely before saying, "You have done exceptional work, OC-072. I will see to it that you are given proper commendation by my superiors."
"Unnecessary. I am only doing this for the sake of the Grand Plan."
"You may not be around to see it come to fruition. The endgame may very well be thousands of years from now, if not millions."
"Nevertheless. What must be done shall be so."
The alien smirked. "Indeed. Until we meet again...."
With that, the being faded away and the Triple Changer converted to his jet mode, flying off into the nighttime sky. He was fully aware of what punishment awaited him back at the Grand Imperium, but he was past the point of caring.
For, in the end, none of it would matter. One day, Cybertron's true rulers would return to take back what was theirs, and only then would peace be fully restored.
TO BE CONTINUED
No comments:
Post a Comment