CHAPTER THREE
--Autobot City--
"All right, now just flip that switch. No, the other switch. That one. The one I'm pointing to. Look, just-- yes, that one!"
Casting Wheeljack a weary glance, Perceptor flipped the necessary switch and a green portal materialized within the newly-constructed archway. Wheeljack then turned to the small audience he had gathered and spread his arms.
"Walla! One GroundBridge to order!"
"You've built these before, Jackie," said Bulkhead, his large green form looming over all those present. "It's nothing to celebrate about."
"Personally, I'm celebrating the fact that it didn't blow up," remarked Arcee. "That's gotta be an accomplishment in of itself."
Wheeljack rolled his eyes. "You guys kill me. So who wants to take it for a spin?"
"We should probably wait for Prowl," said Bumblebee, checking his chrono. "I think he said he had a mission for us."
"I do." Everyone turned to see two cars drive up to join them, transforming to robot modes. One was Prowl, the other a red and orange bot with flames on his chest.
"Rodimus?" Bumblebee tilted his head. "What are you doing here?"
"He and select members of his crew will be joining you on your mission," Prowl informed them. "We have... possibly pinpointed the location of Chromedome, who has been missing for a month now."
"Don't tell me he's in Britain too," Bulkhead grunted. "'Cos that'd be way too convenient."
"Not that we know of, no. However, our assumption is that Chromedome's been captured by Decepticons. As such, there's a chance any 'Cons you may encounter could lead you to Chromedome."
"Great," Arcee said. "So we kill two avianoids with one stone. How many of us are going?"
"Rodimus has selected nine Autobots to join your ten, making twenty all together," Prowl said. "Sky Lynx will be taking you, so technically that's twenty-one."
Wheeljack shifted slightly. "Uh, I don't think Sky Lynx will be able to fit through the Ground Bridge."
Prowl glanced at him. "Who said anything about the GroundBridge?"
"But... but...." Wheeljack flailed his arms at his creation. "I just finished building it!"
"Good. I'm sure it'll come in handy down the line. But I've already arranged for Sky Lynx to serve as transportation."
Wheeljack sighed, his shoulders drooping. Bulkhead stepped over and patted him on the back, only to send the engineer flying into a wall. The green giant shrunk back and tapped his fingers together.
"Sorry. My bad."
* * *
"You're going?"
"Of course I'm going, Brainstorm!" Rewind replied, walking ahead of the Autobot genius. "Chromedome's my sparkmate! I need to find him."
"Right, right," Brainstorm said, looking disappointed. "It's just... I was really hoping we could compare notes."
"Notes? Notes on what?"
"See, I've been talking with Doomshot -- you know, the clone Megatron's head?" Brainstorm explained. "And a lot of his vague memories match with those of Sentinel Major, who just came out as Infinitus, herald of Nexus Prime."
Rewind stopped to look up at him. "How does any of this concern me?"
"You read up on the Thirteen at the Necrobot's place, didn't you? I was thinking maybe--"
Brainstorm was cut off as Rewind produced a data slug from his arm and handed it to the scientist.
"Here," Rewind said curtly. "It's all on there. Now if you don't mind, I have more important things to do."
With that, the tiny archivist marched away, leaving behind a silent Brainstorm.
* * *
"Trust me, Rung, we're doing everything we can to find Ariel and Protofor-- I mean, Rampage."
"I do trust you, Springer," Rung said to the green-plated mech on his screen. "That's why I asked you to do this for me. I understand it's not quite your usual caliber of mission...."
Springer grinned. "Hey, I owe you one, doc. Your assessments are always valued whenever it comes to recruiting Wreckers."
"I would hope so," Rung said wryly. "I don't do them for no reason, you know."
Springer chuckled. "I hear ya. I know that Impactor would often ignore 'em whenever he was desperate. Speaking of which, have you guys...?"
Rung shook his head. "No, Springer. We have not heard from Impactor since Outpost One."
"Just thought I'd check. Anyway, I'll call back in case we find anything."
"Thank you, Springer. And good luck."
--Cybertron--
"Was that Eyebrows?"
Springer glanced at Kup as he ended the call. "Rung," he corrected the older mech.
"Rung, sorry." Kup chewed on his cy-gar. "It's funny; I've known him for thousands of years yet I can never get his name right. Heh, I remember one time -- I think it was Cycle 9240 -- we were stationed on Cygnus Alpha-5 and--"
"Kup," Springer promptly interjected.
"Sorry, sorry." Kup removed the cy-gar from his mouth and flicked off flakes of synthetic energon. "So you didn't tell him about...?"
Springer shook his head. "No," he said as he watched Roadbuster and Guzzle pull apart another wall of the abandoned Academy of Advanced Technologies, revealing yet another hidden room filled with lifeless chassis and frightening bits of equipment. Nearby, Ironfist attended to a trembling Ariel and an irate Rampage.
"Yeah," Kup grunted, pulling out a fresh new cy-gar from a hip compartment. "This is definitely something to wait on."
* * *
"Let me see him."
"Sir, I need proper identification."
Metalhawk glared at the white-plated Autotrooper guard, indistinguishable from all the others stationed on Cybertron. A remnant of Sentinel Prime's Cybertron. A remnant that Optimus Prime should have done away centuries ago.
"What's your name, soldier?" Metalhawk asked the faceless mook.
"AT-1033, sir," the trooper dutifully responded.
"Your name," Metalhawk repeated with more emphasis. "Surely you weren't named with a random string of numbers."
The Autotrooper shifted on her feet slightly, clearly taken aback by the request. "Aura," she said after a moment. "Aura of Iacon."
Metalhawk nodded as he showed her his ID. "Metalhawk of Archon. Pleasure to meet you, Aura."
After being given clearance, Metalhawk proceeded into the corridor. Only one of the twelve cells was occupied, situated at the very end of the hall, out of Aura's hearing range. A single figure sat behind the ray shield that separated him and his visitor.
A long moment of silence passed. The prisoner did not so much as even acknowledge the councilor's presence. Eventually, Metalhawk decided to be the first to speak.
"Hello, Bludgeon."
"Autobots are not worthy of my attention," the Decepticon warrior said darkly, keeping his head lowered.
Metalhawk frowned. "I am no Autobot. I haven't worn their bade in nearly a millennium."
"Still, you were one of them. You once stood with Sentinel Prime. You are undeserving of my respect."
"I didn't come here for your respect. I came here for this." Raising a hand to his helm, Metalhawk beamed an ultraviolet light through the ray shield and onto the floor of Bludgeon's cell. Uncovered by the ray was the crudely carved mark of Thunderwing's face.
Finally, Bludgeon lifted his gaze. "How did you know?"
Metalhawk smirked. "Because I've heard him too, Bludgeon. I've heard the call."
Bludgeon continued to stare at him for another moment before speaking again. "So it is time then?"
Metalhawk couldn't help but chuckle at that particular choice of words. "Yes," he said. "It is time."
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