CHAPTER EIGHT
Some Cybertronians were born lucky. If they got constructed with a jet alternate mode, they'd usually get inducted into the Aerial Corps. If they were a construction vehicle, they'd be made a Constructicon, and so on and so forth. Scrounge, however, got the short end of the stick.
He turned into a wheel. A lousy wheel that did nothing but roll. While the Functionists who ran the caste system were generous enough to place him in Intelligence, where his small size and one-of-a-kind arm would be useful for reconnaissance, he was still treated as inferior by some of his peers.
But that was soon to change. Once he found out who the Mastermind was behind the recent Decepticon movement, he would prove himself not just in the eyes of his friends, but the High Council's as well.
"Hey, Scrounge."
The unexpected call startled the small gold wheel, causing him to veer off from his path. After colliding with a waste bucket, he converted into his robot mod, sitting in a daze. After clearing his head, he looked up to see two Autobots- one larger than the other- standing before him.
"Oh. Hey, Roller," Scrounge said, rising to his feet. "What are you doing here?"
"Investigating a murder," the large Autobot replied. "You?"
Scrounge glanced around frantically before saying, in a low whisper, "I'm trying to put a stop to this Decepticon movement."
"Decepticons?" Roller's yellow-colored companion repeated. "I thought they all had their cans kicked!"
"Not so loud," Scrounge hissed. "They did, but they're slowly trying to rebuild their empire. I overheard it from a pair of 'bots-"
"A pair of 'bots?" Roller asked. "What did they look like?"
"Short, stout, identical in everything but color. One was black and red, the other blue and gray."
Roller grinned. "What a coincidence. We happen to be after a set of twins looking just like that. Any idea where they could be?"
"I often see them heading into this warehouse," Scrounge replied. "If you would like, I could lead you to it."
"That would be fantastic. Lead the way."
The gold Autobot converted into his alternate mode and sped away, with Roller and his companion not far behind. At the same time, Scrounge could have sworn he saw a winged mechanimal watching them intently before taking off....
* * *
After leaving the Blue Deployer, Optronix and his team met up with Ratchet and Arcee, who had been unable to get any info from their contact. Frustrated by these results, Optronix contacted Roller, ready to call the mission off if his results were the same.
Instead of Roller's deep voice however, Optronix was greeted by a lighter, somewhat suave and yet smarmy voice.
"Yes?"
"Who are you?" Optronix demanded. "What have you done to Roller?"
"I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name," the voice replied. "If he calls me by chance, I'll let him know you called. Would you like to leave a message?"
"Who is this? What's going on?"
"Any questions you may have can be directed to your friend Cryotek. He's the one who slapped a tracking device onto your back."
Dread pulsing in his spark, Optronix craned his head and saw the barely-noticeable, miniscule device latched onto his back, barely noticeable to the naked optic. Before he could verbally curse Cryotek's name, the sound of roaring engines made him look up as a group of Cybertronian vehicles surrounded him and his team.
Orion, Elita, and Arcee instantly deployed their weapons but Optronix raised a hand to prevent them from taking action. This apparently evoked a chuckled from the black truck that led the group.
"Wise of you to lower your weapons," it rumbled. "Here in Kaon, the Stunticons reign supreme."
"Stunticons?" Orion echoed.
"A band of thugs," Optronix muttered. "What's the meaning of this, Motormaster?"
With a deafening roar, the black truck shifted and rose into a tall, burly robot form, clutching a large purple sword in one hand. "I have eyes and ears in all sorts of places," the Stunticon leader said. "Word of your investigation spread and I was able to take the necessary precautions."
Nodding to his fellow Stunticons, he said, "Seize them."
All at once, the band of cars morphed into their robot forms and quickly affixed the five Autobots with mode locks, rendering them practically immobile.
Optronix glared at Motormaster. "And just what do you intend to do with us?"
The Stunticon leader grinned. "I'm in the mood of holding you for ransom. But first, there's a group of gentle-bots that I would like you to meet."
* * *
"I trust that this info is legit?"
The cloaked figure which stood before the mercenary in the destitute slums of Polyhex maintained his cold expression as he handed him a small datachip.
"If it wasn't, would I have any reason in giving it to you?"
The mercenary grunted. "You know, for someone in such a high position such as yourself, I'm surprised you'd stoop down to the level of hiring the likes of me."
"I have no one else to turn to. I am the only one who can see through the veil of deception the High Council has weaved."
"And you think that by killing Sentinel Prime, the veil would, what, lower?"
The stranger's icy blue optics stared into the mercenary's red ones. "Something like that. You aren't having second thoughts now, are you, Lockdown?"
Lockdown snorted. "Heck no. Just curious, is all."
Putting the datachip away, the mercenary nodded farewell to his contact. "I guess I'll see you later, whether it's at Trypticon Prison, or among the throngs of people that are cheering on your ascension."
The Mastermind allowed himself a smile, though not one of mirth. "Nevertheless, our paths will cross again. I promise you that, Lockdown."
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