CHAPTER FOUR
--Outpost One--
"So little Ragnarok's gotten himself on the loose, has he?" Tarantulas chuckled to himself as he moved about his lab. "Ah, children. Can't live with them, can't live without them."
Gigatron sneered, standing by the door with his arms crossed. "You are offensively calm about the situation. Ragnarok is out there in the galaxy unattended. Unsupervised. Wreaking havoc to Mortilus knows how many worlds."
"Why do you sound so concerned about that?" Tarantulas asked, looking over his shoulder at him. "You're a Decepticon warlord. Havoc is part of the game for you."
"Yes, but Ragnarok isn't a warlord; he's a simple-minded experiment who is unable to look after himself. Without supervision, his power can prove just as dangerous to us as it is useful."
"You underestimate him, Gigatron." Tarantulas skittered from a table, having retrieved a scalpel, and moved towards the deactivated Artfire on the medical slab. "He may be no Shockwave, but he's considerably smarter than a Vehicon."
Gigatron snorted. "Regardless, we must find him as soon as possible. Do you have any sort of tracking device on him?"
"If I did, we would not still be standing here," Tarantulas said as he set to work. "But not to worry. I've already prepared a set of trackers for a situation such as this."
"In that case, give them to me and I shall--"
"Oh, pardon me. I did not mean to imply they were ordinary tracking devices." The spider bot shifted over to hit a control panel, which transmitted a private signal. "They're much more than meets the eye. And they're waiting for you in hangar six."
Gigatron scowled. "What kind of game are you playing at, bug?"
Tarantulas cackled as he set about slicing up Artfire's head. "The best kind. The one which I win every single time."
--Caminus--
"So, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly brings you lot to Caminus?"
Rodimus quickened his pace to catch up with Overcast, who was still walking with Nautica down the Citadel's silver and blue hallways. "Well, we're on a quest, you see."
"Ah, those are always fun," Overcast said. "A quest to find what?"
"Not what, who," Rodimus said, grinning. "We're searching for the Knights of Cybertron."
"That right? Funny."
Rodimus frowned. "I know it might sound ridiculous, but--"
"No, no, no," Overcast said hastily. "You misunderstand me. I'm not making fun of you or your quest... I was just remarking on the fact that you're the second ship to arrive today with the same mission."
Rodimus blinked. "I... beg your pardon?"
"No more than a minute before you arrived, a group of shuttles from the Vis Vitalis landed in our hangar. They're searching for the Knights of Cybertron as well."
This brought Rodimus to a cold, dead stop. Everything ahead of him suddenly seemed to be a hundred miles away and he could not find the energy to press forward. While the others simply moved past him, Drift came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey. Is everything all right?"
Rodimus did not reply and instead rushed back over to Overcast. "Wait, you mean to tell me Thunderclash is looking for the Knights of Cybertron?"
"Yeppers."
"Then what's he doing here? If he's had Camiens like you and Windblade and what not on board, that means he's already been to Caminus before. Why would he come back here instead of, you know, making progress?"
"Now that, I don't know," Overcast said. "I had not been informed beforehand of their arrival, which makes me think there's been some sort of emergency."
"Ha! That's rich!" Rodimus said dryly. "Thunderclash never has emergencies. He's the greatest Autobot that ever lived. Even Optimus Prime looks up to him. Heck, people say Omega Supreme goes to him for advice. Omega fraggin--"
Overcast raised a finger to silence him, holding another to his comm. "Hold that thought, I'm getting a call. Yes, Lightbright?"
The Camien listened patiently to the bot on the other end, saying "Yes" and "Uh-huh" sporadically. Then he said "Oh" in a tone that was usually used whenever bad news was received, and the "I see" which followed gave Rodimus the impression something seriously bad had happened. Finishing up with "Okay, I'll be there soon," Overcast ended the call and looked to the others.
"I hate to end the tour before it's even begun, but we have to go to the Grand Hall, asap."
"Why?" Rodimus asked. "What happened?"
"Thunderclash is dead. The funeral is being held in three hours."
--Earlier--
In all his life, Afterburner could not recall ever being in a good mood. Regardless of what period the universe was in -- war or peace -- he could simply not muster the "positive energy" that his fellow Camiens encouraged him to show. He woke up every day with a burgeoning sense of dread, fearing that something somewhere was going to go wrong for him. And nine times out of ten, nothing came about to justify those fears.
So it just figured that, the one day he got out of his recharge station actually feeling optimistic and good about himself, a bombshell like this was dropped on him.
Propping himself against the balcony's railing, he rubbed the top edge of his mouthplate, sighing deeply. "You're absolutely certain he's dead?"
"He's already succumbed to rigor morphis," said the red and orange femme behind him, the flame emitting from her helmet flickering. "We've done multiple scans on him and none show any sign of spark activity. He's dead, Afterburner. No doubt about it."
Letting go of the railing, Afterburner turned around to face Firestar fully. "Any idea what caused it?"
"Our best guess is the spark injury he suffered at the Fall of Grindcore. However...." Firestar shifted her feet slightly, her optics darting. "For the past few months, every bot we've had visit Thunderclash to serve their honors have died. Countdown, Peritus Maximus... even members of our own crew, such as Vertex and Photon."
"You have some sort of epidemic going around?" Afterburner asked.
Firestar shook her head. "I don't think so. None of our scans on the ship have picked up anything, and the bots who have died look to be in perfect health-- besides the fact that they're dead, of course."
"Radio the Vis Vitalis to come down and I'll order an inspection," Afterburner said. "In the meantime, we should bring this news to the Mistress of Flame."
"Actually, I think we should let everyone know," Firestar replied. "Thunderclash is respected greatly by all Camiens, more so than any Cybertronian besides Optimus Prime. It's only fair that the whole world knows about it."
Afterburner sighed. Although he had never thought much of Thunderclash unlike most, he knew Firestar had a point. Turning on his comm, he said, "All Cityspeakers, this is Commander Afterburner. I have some news I want you all to know...."
--Now--
"Oh my god. Oh my god."
Skids poked his head out the Rodpod to see Rapid Run staggering, holding herself up against the ship. Frowning, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"It's Thunderclash," she replied, her voice softer than a whisper. "He's... he's dead."
"What?" Skids exclaimed, incredulous. "Are you serious? How do you know this?"
"A Cityspeaker just radioed me. Said it was spark failure." Rapid Run towards the Citadel, her optics filled with sadness. "Apparently that's why the Vis Vitalis is here."
"Wow." Skids leaned against the door frame, shocked. "That's just... wow."
"Pretty much. They're holding a funeral in the Grand Hall in three hours."
"Are you gonna go? I don't mind, you know. I've already got company."
"I probably should. Except...." Rapid Run shook her head, turning away from the tower. "No. I should stay here. I have a duty."
"You sure?" Skids looked to see other Camiens moving towards the Citadel, clearly having received the call as well. "Seems like everyone else is leaving their post."
"Which is precisely why I should stay. Someone has to keep a look out for any unwanted visitors."
"Does Caminus get those often?"
"Well, no," Rapid Run murmured, rubbing the back of her head. "The last one we had was... about a century ago. It was a ship full of organics trying to sell us illegal tech. They were completely harmless, just, you know... pushy."
"So, given that, what are the odds of a Decepticon warship dropping from the sky and bombarding the planet?" Skids asked, smirking slightly.
Rapid Run huffed, crossing her arms. "Enough to not make me take any chances."
"Fair enough," Skids said, turning to leave. "Trouble does tend to always strike when you have your back turned."
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