CHAPTER THREE
--Lost Light--
"Is this really necessary?"
"Quiet," Brainstorm replied, tugging at either side of the tape measure. He hummed to himself for a moment before wrapping it around Minimus Ambus' waist and tightening it. Minimus winced slightly as his pistons strained.
"Careful. My frame isn't as sturdy when out of--"
"Tell me, is the weight of the original Magnus Armor the most you can bear? Or can you handle more?"
"I... yes, I can handle more."
"How much more? Say... Metroplex-more?"
"Well, not that--"
"So Omega Supreme then."
Minimus sighed, rolling his optics. "Yes, I'd say that's a good estimate."
"Brilliant." Putting the tape away, Brainstorm pranced over to his workshop. "That'll be all for now. Carry along."
Shaking his head, Minimus proceeded to put his outer armor back on. As he did so, he heard a loud screech from outside the lab and turned to see Swerve converting from his truck mode.
"Have either of you seen Tailgate?" the minibot asked.
"No, bugger off," Brainstorm said.
Minimus shot him a look as he said, "I believe I saw him with Glyph earlier, heading for a hab suite."
Swerve made an exasperated noise. "Glyph. Of course. Should have figured. They're always together, stuck like glue. Even Chromedome and Rewind aren't as...."
"Aren't as what?" Minimus asked, raising an optic.
"I don't know... clingy? Like, they're always hugging and cuddling and... bumping helmets." Swerve shook his head. "It's really weird."
"I agree, it's not normal behavior," Minimus said as he finished putting on his armor. "But, so long as it's not causing any problems or breaking any rules, I don't see why they can't be happy."
"I suppose...." Swerve murmured.
"Why were you looking for him anyway?"
"Oh, I just wanted to show him my signed Blurr capture." Swerve's face suddenly lit up. "You wanna see?"
"Er, I'd love to but...." Minimus looked over to Brainstorm. "I'm sure Brainstorm still needs me for further testing."
"No, you're done." Brainstorm waved dismissively. "Go and do whatever."
Minimus opened his mouth to speak again only to find himself be dragged away by an excited Swerve.
* * *
"I'm sorry, but why in the Pit would Prowl recruit an ex-Decepticon?"
Que was silent as he looked upon the deactivated form of Dealer, splayed upon a medslab. Skids and Quickshadow stood nearby, having just heard his account of the business with the former Decepticon and the clone of Megatron. As the only other bots on the Lost Light who were also Secret Service members, they were the only ones Que could trust to share the story of Dealer with.
Only problem was, he knew just as much as they did.
"I don't know," he finally said. "I wasn't even aware of his status as an agent until a few months ago, before we left Cybertron."
"Did he say anything about what he had been doing for the Secret Service?" asked Quickshadow.
Que shook his head. "There wasn't exactly any time for small talk, given the situation we were in. All I know is that he knew about the Megatron clones."
"I still can't believe this Megatron thing," Skids groused, shaking his head. "If only we knew what the scrap is going on with that."
"Well...." Que tapped his cane against the floor, given to him after recovering from the clone incident. "We were able to capture one of the clones...."
Both Skids and Quickshadow looked at him in surprise. "You have?" the latter asked.
"Yes, he's being held in the brig. I'm not sure if Red Alert has brought it too Rodimus' attention yet, or if he has, if anyone's gotten anything from him."
"I guess I'll have to find out for myself," Skids said, turning to leave the medbay.
"And just where do you think you're going?" Que asked.
"The brig. Where else?"
"You do know you need Rodimus or Magnus' permission to--"
"That's never stopped me before," Skids retorted. "And it's definitely not going to now."
With that, the blue mech treaded out of the medbay. Watching him leave, Quickshadow shot a glance at Que.
"Is this normal of him?" she asked.
"Yes," Que muttered. "Unfortunately so."
* * *
"Prowl, it's me. Do you copy?"
Static was his only response. That was worrisome. While the Lost Light was lightyears away from Cybertron, his signal to Prowl was supposed to be as clear as day, regardless of distance. And Prowl was not the type to miss a call....
Still, he didn't have much time to sort things out. He had to get his message out there and only prayed that someone would receive it.
"Prowl, we are en route to someplace called Outpost One. The Wreckers are being held captive there. If you receive this message, please send reinforcements. I'll transmit the coordinates to you now. Rodimus somehow thinks we'll be enough, but if even the Wreckers were able to be defeated, then... what chance do we have?"
With that, he ended the call. It wouldn't be long now before they reached their destination.
He only hoped there would be enough time.
* * *
The severe lack of a Rodpod pained Rodimus as he stood in the hangar bay. As far as he knew, it was still on Caminus, where they had left it before everything had gone downhill. He had been so proud of that ship, having designed and built it himself (okay, Grapple and Hoist might have helped too) to have it wrenched from his hands so soon... it hurt.
But things like that would have to wait. They had a mission to take care of.
He stared at the twenty-odd Autobots that had gathered so far. They still had another fifteen minutes, so he hoped more would come soon. At the moment, Whirl was taking great enjoyment in rallying them.
"Who do we kill?" the cyclopian ex-Wrecker called out.
"We kill 'Cons!" the crowd roared back.
Good to know morale is high at least, Rodimus thought. He looked over his shoulder to see Drift stepping down from one of the shuttles, an eager look on his face.
"Everything is in tip top shape!" he said. "So what's the plan once we get there?"
"Mainframe has us plotted to jump out on the dark side of the moon," Rodimus replied.
"The moon?" Drift asked.
"Ironfist's coordinates matched up with a desolate moon in the Tyros system. I'm betting this Outpost One is either on this moon or orbits it."
"The Tyros system?" Drift frowned, tilting his head. "That's on the edge of the Malus Expanse. Dangerously close to Galactic Council territory. We'll have to tread carefully."
Rodimus sighed. "Yeah, Minimus made that clear to me. Hopefully the Council doesn't pay much to uninhabited moons."
Over the next few minutes, more Autobots filed into the hangar. Eventually, they all numbered thirty-two in total. Not long after, Rodimus received a call from Mainframe.
"We'll be reaching our destination in about two minutes, captain."
"All right." Rodimus motioned to his gathered team. "Everyone on the shuttle. It's time to--"
"Please don't," Whirl interjected. "I know what you're going to say. Just don't, okay? It's not funny or clever. No one's going to laugh. So just don't."
Rodimus shot him a look before revving quietly. "Right. Let's just go."
* * *
Archforce heard the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall. He did not lift his gaze from the floor of his cell even when the blue and red mech came into view. Yellow optics stared at him from behind purple energy bars.
"I've come to talk," Skids said.
"Frag off," Archforce retorted.
"I don't think Megatron uses that kind of language."
Archforce finally looked up, meeting the Autobots gaze. "I am not Megatron," he growled.
"That's not what I've heard." Pressing a control panel, Skids caused the bars to vanish and stepped into the cell. After turning the energy beams back on, he took a seat on the berth opposite of Archforce.
"You and I," the theoretician said darkly, "have a lot to talk about."
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