THREE: TASTE THE CLOUDS
--The past--
Not long after his visit with Zeta Prime, Orion Pax had received a call from Outback. As it happened, Fastback had just returned from an off-world mission, which he had been on for the past few months -- long before Hefter's death. This, naturally, ruled him out.
But who else could it have been? Orion did not know of any other bots with Outback's body type in the Security Force. Unless it had been Outback, which Orion did not wish to believe, it could not have been anyone else.
If only CCTV had color. Then this would be over in a nanoklik.
Of course, Orion had been lucky enough to view the CCTV at all. Checkpoint had become very picky on who had access to the footage after a rogue officer had modified it to cover up a murder two years ago. Spin-Out had been nice enough to nab the footage for him, but only pieces of it. None of it showed the crime actually being committed.
As such, this left Orion with only one option. It was a risky move to make, but a necessary one....
"This is strictly off the record, correct?"
"Correct," Orion said, watching as Ratchet studied Hefter's corpse. "I've always deduced that he was killed via gun. I just need to know what kind."
Ratchet sighed. "Pax, I'm a doctor, not a mechaforensics expert. A gun wound's a gun wound to me. I couldn't tell you the difference between a Photon Burst Rifle and an X-9 Scrapmaker."
"Then do you know anyone who can? Maybe someone here at Ultirex?"
"Well, if you had come here earlier, I could have sent you over to Wheeljack, but he just left for Iacon, funnily enough." Ratchet thought for a moment. "There's also another bot -- he doesn't work here, but he's friends with Wheeljack -- who knows guns. His name escapes me at the moment."
He turned over to a white and red winged bot working nearby. "Hey, Jetfire! Who's that bot with the lab in Durax? Is it Ferox or Furok?"
"Huh?" The flier turned around, briefly glancing at Orion as he stuttered his response. "Uh, it's Ferak, isn't it?"
"Ferak, that's right. Thank you." Ratchet turned back to Orion. "So yeah, go down to Durax and look for a place called Ferak Tech. I'm sure he can help you out. He used to work in mechaforensics."
"Good. I wouldn't dream of bringing this to IMD's attention; not with Flatfoot still working there." Orion looked over to Jetfire, who had since resumed working. "Can't say it's everyday I meet a flying scientist."
"Yeah, he's been suffering flak from the Funcionists for years," Ratchet said. "If it weren't for my position as chief medical officer, I wouldn't have been able to get him a job here at Ultirex."
"Well, the Functionist's power has been waning ever since Zeta came into office. Hopefully things will change."
Ratchet grunted. "We can only hope."
--Now--
When Optimus had heard Doublecross' plan, he immediately said no. He knew that for a fact.
Yet here he was, doing exactly what Doublecross' plan entailed: driving through hordes of frightened organics at full speed, with Doublecross riding atop him, shooting his guns.
No. This was wrong. He shouldn't be doing this. These were innocent people he was running over.
He tried to stop and transform but his body refused to comply. He simply kept going, rapidly approaching a wall.
"Brace yourself!" he heard Doublecross cry. "This is gonna be--"
Optimus didn't hear the rest of the Monsterbot's sentence as the next thing he knew, they had crashed through the wall... and were flying through the sky.
Check that: Falling through the sky. From over twenty thousand feet in the air.
As he plummeted towards certain death, Optimus thought back to how Primes before him had fallen: Galactus Prime was struck down by Nova Major's battle axe, both Nominus and Guardian Prime were assassinated, Zeta Prime was devoured by Trypticon....
And here he was, about to meet his fate by falling from the sky.
He supposed it could have been worse, but then, nothing was really coming to mind.
Suddenly, he felt his descent be slowed as a pair of claws latched onto him. He heard Doublecross -- back in dragon form -- grunt as he tried to keep them both suspended in the air.
"Sweet... Primus...." Doublecross muttered. "Are you Primes always this heavy?"
Optimus said nothing as the two gradually made their way towards the ground. It was a rough trip, with Doublecross nearly losing his grip once or twice, but eventually they managed to safely touch down. Letting go of Optimus, the dragon collapsed onto the sandy ground, both heads panting.
"We did it," the Twinferno head said. "That was amazing."
"Of course it was," said Doublecross. "It was my idea."
After recomposing himself, Optimus looked around the barren landscape. There were no buildings or settlements of any kind from what he could see. He spotted a mountain range on the horizon, but beyond that nothing.
He turned his gaze to the sky. Whatever it was they had fell from, it was now only a dot in the sky -- one of many, in fact. From what he could discern, they had the shape of a spinning top, with round upper halves and narrow bottoms.
Wherever they were, it was clear most of the planet's population preferred to live in the sky rather than on the surface. Meaning it was unlikely they would find anyone here let alone any means to get off world.
"Fantastic," he muttered to himself.
Twinferno lifted his head up, beaming. "It really was, wasn't it? We sure do make a great team, don't--"
"He was being sarcastic, doofus," Doublecross snapped. "We're stuck here on this dirtball of a planet with no means of getting off it. We're going to spend the rest of our lives here."
Optimus let out an exasperated sigh as he ensconced himself on the ground. "I'll see if I can radio Cybertron. I doubt it'll get through though."
"Yeah, don't bother," Doublecross growled. "We're in Galactic Council territory."
Optimus raised an optic. "The Galactic Council? Are you sure?"
Both heads nodded. "One could never mistake those giant as frag ships," said Twinferno.
Optimus wasn't sure he bought this. The Galactic Council hated Cybertronians, yes, and would often capture or kill those who crossed their paths. But pit them against each other in arena battles? The Galactic Council was many things but barbaric was hardly one of them.
He decided not to raise this doubt though. After all, Doublecross could have very well been correct; it had been many years since contact had last been made with the Council. Things could have greatly changed over the years.
Shifting his position, Optimus instead said to the dragon, "How did you get captured?"
Both heads looked at each other. Doublecross shook his head at Twinferno, who glanced uncertainly at Optimus.
"Oh, you know. We were just minding our own business when--"
"It's not important," Doublecross interjected. "You wouldn't care."
"Would I?" Optimus asked. "Why not? It's not like we have anything better to do."
"That's not true!" Twinferno said. "We can... we can play... Spy-Eye!"
"Oh, come on," Doublecross growled. "That game's for protoforms."
Optimus sighed as he lay his head on the ground while the two heads bickered. He was beginning to wish the dragon had simply allowed him to fall....
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