CHAPTER THREE
--Outpost Three--
Cyclonus had been silent for the entire journey from his former cell to the hangar bay of Outpost Three. Jhiaxus had not spoken much either, while Sideways seemed to have nothing better to do.
"Wait until you see our ship," the small femme said, walking besides Cyclonus as they followed Jhiaxus. "We haven't decided on a name for it yet. Straxus likes to call it the Acheron, but I think that name blows. I myself am partial to Black Death Wing. Or Murder Boat. Or maybe Black Death Murder Boat Wing."
Jhiaxus glared at her. "We are not calling it any of those things."
"Well, okay, dad," Sideways drawled. "I guess we'll call it Acheron, just to make Straxus happy. Like he's done anything for us. He's not even with us--"
"He and Grindcore are currently preoccupied. We shall be joining them again shortly."
Sideways simply huffed, crossing her arms. The three eventually reached the hangar which held the ship in question: an angular, claw-shaped Terror Crasher-class craft. Scourge stood beside it, along with a green and gold Decepticon who was looking rather perturbed.
"You can't leave already!" the winged 'Con was saying. "We haven't even made a test run yet!"
"Was the successful combination sequence not a satisfactory test run?" Scourge asked, an optic raised.
"I meant a test run for the combiner itself. We've gotten them to merge, but we haven't put the gestalt in any combat runs or--"
"I trust the notes Jhiaxus has left for you will compensate, Fractyl. You can not expect us to handle all of your menials tasks. We are simply here to move things along."
Fractyl opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he noticed Jhiaxus and the others approaching. He briefly met the old scientist's gaze before shuffling away.
"Right. Understood. I'll... inform Mother of your departure."
"You do that." While Fractyl trodded off, Scourge turned to greet his fellow Heralds, smiling at Cyclonus. "Ah, I'm glad to see the operation was a success."
"Indeed," Jhiaxus replied. "I take it we are done here?"
Before Scourge could answer, Cyclonus pushed past the scientist and stormed up to his former comrade. "What is going on here, Scourge?" the purple warrior growled. "What have you done to me?"
"We have improved you," Scourge said evenly. "Made you stronger, more powerful."
Cyclonus scowled. "But why? To what end?"
"Come with us and we will show you."
Cyclonus opened his mouth to protest but Scourge was already heading up the ship's ramp. Jhiaxus followed suit while Sideways nudged Cyclonus forward.
"Come on, horn head. You're going on this road trip whether you like it or not."
Resisting every urge to mutilate the smaller Herald, Cyclonus simply frowned as he boarded the ship.
--The Lost Light--
"I don't understand," Tailgate said as he and Glyph were led into Rung's office, along with Crosscut and a petrified Swerve. "What did we do wrong?"
Rung sighed as he pushed his spectacles up his nose, sitting in his office chair. "What were the two of you doing in Ammo's hab suite?"
"We were just watching a movie! He said it was okay and that we could borrow his collection--"
"What movie was it?" Rung asked. "Because I haven't seen Swerve this quiet since the D.J.D. incident."
"It was... it was...." Tailgate looked over at Glyph, who sat with her arms crossed. "What was it called again?"
Glyph sighed, closing her optics. "It was just some documentary. It wasn't an actual film or... whatever."
"A documentary on what?" Rung asked.
Glyph hesitated. "Humans."
"Humans?" Skids looked over quizzically at Swerve. "That's what scared you? You watch movies with humans all the time."
Swerve shook his head. "None like this," he said quietly. "These humans were... doing things."
"Like what, mutilation? You got through those Saw movies just fine."
"No, this was different. These humans were... were...."
"Okay!" Glyph threw up her arms. "It was a film on human biology! That's all it was!"
Skids, Rung, and Crosscut all looked at her in bewilderment. "Why were you watching that?" Skids asked.
Glyph shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Tailgate awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "Well, see," the minibot started. "Glyph was talking about how sparks are made--"
"Sparks are not made like eggs, I can tell you that much," Crosscut muttered.
"Let me finish. And she said that, since the hot spots have all gone dry and the caches of frozen sparks have all been used up, we have to come up with a new method of creating sparks."
"And you thought you could garner that from a film on human biology?" Skids questioned.
"It was just part of my study," Glyph said. "We've been watching countless videos of the sort -- Skuxxoid, Magisterian, even Miliarian -- just to see if there was any way for our race to produce more should Vector Sigma ever shut down for good."
"I'm sure if there was, someone would have discovered it by now," Rung said. "If it's any comfort, I once knew someone who had the same concerns."
Glyph looked up at him. "You did?"
Rung nodded. "His name was Deluge, a renown member of the Science Division. He had a great interest in Point One Percenters and had tried creating one of his own. He tried several different techniques, from spark splicing to spark merging, to no avail. Last I saw him, he had moved on to recreating mechanimals."
Skids frowned. "Is this the same Deluge responsible for the Driller infestation in Cycle 9311?"
Rung thought for a moment. "Was that him? I always thought it had been Shockwave who was behind that."
"Well, he was the one who gave the order to unleash the worms, but I'm pretty sure Deluge was the one who modified them to carry troops and stuff."
Glyph rolled her eyes. "Great. I feel so much better now."
"My apologies," Rung said. "What I'm trying to say is that, while I understand your concerns, there simply is no other way to create sparks beyond the normal methods."
Glyph slowly nodded, sighing. "I understand," she murmured.
Frowning, Tailgate reached out to take her hand. She did not reciprocate however, keeping her arms folded.
Clearing his throat, Crosscut said, "So are we done here? I'm thinking we should take Swerve to see Ratchet--"
"No, I'm fine," Swerve said, hobbling to his feet. "I just... need a breather after seeing... that."
"Why did you barge in on us anyway?" Tailgate asked.
"I was just wondering where you'd went. I was hoping you'd show up to my Grand Reopening."
"Oh!" Tailgate shot to his feet. "I totally forgot! I'm sorry, Swerve, I didn't know--"
"Hey, don't worry about it." Swerve grinned. "It's never too late to join in. All drinks are on the house."
"Great!" Tailgate looked over at Glyph. "Wanna go?"
"Sure," Glyph muttered, rising up. "I guess."
"Awesome! Let's go!"
With that, the three minibots quickly exited the room. Crosscut followed them after a quick farewell and apology to Rung. Soon, only the psychiatrist and his two friends remained.
"Well!" Skids said as he closed the door. "That was... something."
Rung nodded in agreement before turning to Ariel, who had been silent throughout the whole thing. The gray and teal femme was sitting by the window, playing with the Ark I model as she stared out into space.
"Are you doing all right?" Rung asked, stepping over to her.
She nodded, not taking her eyes off the stars. "Just waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Him."
Rung frowned in confusion, exchanging a look with Skids. "Who's 'him?'"
She said nothing, instead beginning to hum to herself.
Seconds later, a Decepticon ship appeared in the window.
No comments:
Post a Comment