CHAPTER FOUR
--Messatine--
Windblade shot across Messatine's sky in jet mode while the rest of her "Delphi unit"-- consisting of Nightbeat, Skids, Glyph, and Nautica-- trailed after her on Mobile Autobot Repair Bays. Up ahead, across the snowy terrain they were crossing, the medical station of Delphi could be spotted in the distance.
"You know, being as close as it is to Decepticon territory, I'm surprised it hasn't been taken yet," Nightbeat said.
"Oh great, now you've jinxed it," Skids said wryly. "You guys keep going, I'll wait for you on the shuttle."
"You're not going anywhere, special agent guy," Windblade called to him. "Don't tell me you're brave enough to be snappish with Galvatron of all bots but too scared to go against some Decepticons."
Skids blinked. "Wait, that was Galvatron who--? Oh, spark...."
The five Autobots remained silent the rest of the journey until they reached the entrance to Delphi. While Skids and Nightbeat parked the M.A.R.B.s, the others examined the red "X" crudely painted on the door before them.
"That's the universal warning symbol, isn't it?" Nautica said.
"Yes," Glyph replied. "It means 'stay the Pit away' in a billion languages."
"Well, I guess that's that then," Nightbeat said. "They obviously don't want visitors here."
"Tough, because we need their doohickey to find Optimus Prime," Windblade said. "Skids, blast the door open."
A pair of double-barreled cannons flipped out from Skids back and fired at the door, blowing it open. The sight that greeted them was even less welcoming than the red "X."
"I see dead people," Skids murmured as he stared in horror at the rows of rust-covered corpses before them.
"Didn't they come up with a cure for rust a few years back?" Nautica asked as the Autobots tentatively stepped into the morgue. "You would think these bots would be curable."
"I don't think this is ordinary rust," Nightbeat said as he examined one of the bodies. "In fact, I don't think it's even Cosmic Rust. It--"
"Nightbeat, behind you!"
Moving in a blur, Windblade charged towards a spindly mech that had been approaching Nightbeat, moving sluggishly. She brought her blade out of its sheath and swiftly cut down the yellow-green bot, killing them.
"What the Pit was that for?!" Skids exclaimed.
"It was going after Nightbeat," Windblade coolly replied as she sheathed her sword.
"Yeah, at two miles an hour! Who attacks like that?" Skids shook his head ruefully as he looked down at the deceased Autobot. "I know this guy. I think his name was Prowl."
"Say what?" Nautica said.
"Well, obviously not that Prowl. He changed his name to avoid confusion... was it Dent? Yeah, Dent."
"Dent? Seriously?"
"Hey, all of the best names are taken."
"Hello, is someone in here?"A door to the morgue opened to reveal a red and white mech. "I thought I heard fighting."
"First Aid?" Windblade walked up to the Autobot medic. "What's going on here? What's with the morgue?"
"What are you doing in the morgue?" First Aid asked, suddenly stern. "Didn't you see the universal plague symbol on the door?"
Windblade frowned. "Nautica said it was just a warning sign."
"Yeah, well, the meaning's still the same, right?" The medic then sighed, probably figuring the point was now moot. "Anyway... you didn't touch anything, did you?"
A guilty look appeared on Nightbeat's face. "I... might have."
"Stand still." First Aid walked over to him and painted a red X on the detective's cheek. "I'm afraid you've been infected by... whatever this virus is. But don't worry, it lies dormant within you for hours, days even."
"How do you know that if you don't even know what it's called?" Skids asked.
First Aid pointed to a red X painted on his own cheek. "Because I've been infected for five days."
--Clemency--
"I've always wanted my own Worldsweeper."
"You've said that already," Misfire said as he aimed his glowrod all over the symbol ship.
"I know," Crankcase said as he turned over a fallen chair. "But I'm serious. It's the one silver lining in my dreary existence; my dream of flying a Worldsweeper. And it would have a cool name like Mega Starpuncher, or Mighty Spaceship, or Eve."
"'Eve?'"
"Well, it would be short for something like Everlasting Vengeance Eternal, but I would shorten it to Eve because it would be the closest thing I would ever have to a sparkmate."
Misfire shook his head. "Okay, now you're starting to weird me out. I liked you better when you were mis--"
He suddenly froze as his red optics slowly moved up to the ceiling.
"Oh. Slag."
* * *
"Flywheels, you would be a lot more useful if you stopped praying and helped me explore," Krok said dryly, watching the Duocon getting down on his knees.
"I'm not praying," Flywheels retorted. "I've found something."
Krok walked over to where his fellow Scavenger knelt and looked down. Flywheels had taken out a loose plate in the metal flooring, revealing a deep crevice underneath. What he saw in that crevice made Krok's optics widen.
"Oh my--" Before he could finish his exclamation, a voice crackled in his comlink.
"Hey, Krok, it's Misfire. I'm about to freak you out. Ready? There's a brain module built into the ceiling."
"Normally, that would freak me out," Krok said. "But here's this: there's a spark underneath the flooring."
"Oh, I see; you're trying to out-macabre me, aren't you?"
"I'm serious; it's big, it's glowing, and it's green. Must be a Point One Percenter. Fulcrum, have you and Spinister found anything?"
"Besides a cyberfly that Spinister whipped all of his guns out at? Just a transformation cog wired behind a wall."
Krok shook his head in wonder. "We've got the whole Rossum's Trinity going on here. The spark, the brain module, the T-cog... it's like we're in a giant Transformer." He looked back down at the spark. "Which may or may not be a good thing."
* * *
Once the six Scavengers had all regathered near the Worldsweeper's bridge, Misfire was the first to speak.
"Okay, who else here wants to get the frag out of this ship and leave this planet faster than you can say Brobdingnag?"
"I think we're overreacting here," Fulcrum said. "There's sure to be a logical explanation for this. Maybe whoever owned this ship was harboring sparks and... other body parts."
"Explain to me how that's any better."
Before Fulcrum could answer, Krok held up a hand for silence. "Wait, I'm-- shh!-- I'm picking up a lower frequency. It... it sounds like music. Like some kind of transmission. Does anyone have a communicube?"
Flywheels handed him a large silver cube and Krok patched into the frequency. A face resembling the Decepticon insignia appeared.
"This is the Decepticon Justice Division. We bring you good news and bad. The bad: one of your number has transgressed. The good: if the other six of you turn him in within the next fifteen minutes, we will spare your lives and allow you to watch his gruesome demise at our hands. The clock is ticking."
Silence reigned for a time after the transmission ended. It was Crankcase who broke it.
"Who-- the slag-- went-- and got themselves-- put-- on-- the List?!"
Misfire clutched his head. "Is now a good time to freak out yet?"
"Wait." The other Scavengers were startled to hear Spinister speak, something he rarely did. "He said 'other six.' Which means there should be seven of us. But there's only six of us. Am I missing something here?"
"He could have been referring to the spark Krok and Flywheels found," Fulcrum said.
"Probably," Krok murmured, his gaze trailing towards the bridge. "Wait, has anyone checked the bridge yet?"
"I don't think so. Why?"
Krok carefully stepped onto the bridge. Sitting in the command chair, unconscious but clearly alive, was a small mech in purple armor.
"It would appear we are not as alone as we thought."
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"Here's a riddle for you: what's black and purple all over?"
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