CHAPTER THREE
"Am I the only one getting a sense of deja vu about this trip?"
Standing by the O Fortuna's viewport as the shuttle made its way down to Caminus, Overhaul turned his head to look at Skids, raising an optics ridge. "Come again?"
"When we came to Caminus last year, Rodimus brought twenty of us to the Camien Citadel to meet with the Mistress of Flame." Skids grimaced as he stared at the reconstructed Citadel of Flame, which the shuttle was fast-approaching. "Needless to say, it wasn't a pleasant experience."
Overhaul looked around the ship. "Well, we've only got ten bots here this time, so... maybe our odds will be better this time."
"How does that track?" asked Stormshot, who sat next to Skids. "Wouldn't our odds be better if we had more bots?"
Overhaul shook his head. "Not in my experience, kid. Less is more, I always say. That's how we won the Battle of Fortress Sinister in 7811. The 'Cons thought they had us outnumbered, and we were down to only five bots. But Apex Bomber was able to pull through and single-handedly--"
"Forget I asked," Stormshot muttered.
Skids sighed but kept silent for the rest of the trip. There was still something about coming back to Caminus that made him feel uneasy. Part of it was the fact that the Citadel had been rebuilt so soon after the Secret Order had destroyed it, as well as the fact that the Mistress of Flame had made little comment on the ordeal, even though she had nearly been kidnapped.
Even besides all that, Caminus had always struck him as being too perfect. For many millennia, up until and after the Golden Age, Cybertron had had its issues with energon shortages, forcing its colonies to suffer as a result. Yet somehow Caminus had been able to establish a cityscape nearly as beautiful as Iacon had been during the Golden Age.
Sure, Skids thought, they had received a number of resources when they reestablished contact with Cybertron via Thunderclash. But how could that have been enough to bring Caminus to its current state of beauty? He supposed he could ask Nautica or Velocity about this discrepancy, but he somewhat doubt he would get much answers. Maybe he would have Nautica take him and Nightbeat on a tour through the Citadel and perhaps then they could piece things together.
Upon reaching the Citadel, the O Fotuna docked in the hangar bay next to a white and blue shuttle, and Star Saber's crew of ten disembarked. Standing outside to greet them was Firestar, former first mate of the Vis Vitalis (as well as Nautica's amica endura), along with a pair of Torchbearers who bore the unit's unified teal and red color scheme.
"Welcome to Caminus," Firestar said as she shook hands with Star Saber. She then smiled and nodded at Skids, Nautica, and Nightbeat, who had all been members of Rodimus' party last year. "And welcome back. What brings you here?"
"We are here on behalf of the Council of Worlds," Star Saber explained. "It has recently come to our attention that there is a specialized ore of energon here on Caminus. We are here to retrieve it before it falls into the wrong hands."
"Oh, right. The Mistress of Flame informed me of that." Firestar smirked in Nautica's direction. "I just wasn't expecting to see you guys here. I thought you were still searching for Cyberutopia."
"We are," Star Saber clarified. "We've simply been forced to take a few... detours. Fortunately, Caminus happens to be along the way."
"Is that right?" Firestar tapped her chin as she seemed to think for a moment. "Well... I suppose now is as good a time as any to break the news. I don't think the Forgefire Parliament's contacted Cybertron yet...."
Star Saber frowned. "Contacted Cybertron about what?"
"Cyberutopia has already been found."
"WHAT?!"
Drift and Nautica had the loudest exclamations. Skids and Nightbeat were too dumbfounded to even speak. Overhaul, Stormshot, Flareup and Apelinq ranged from confused to almost disappointed. Vector Prime was unreadable while Star Saber stared at Firestar with a perplexed expression.
"What do you mean it's been found?" he asked. "Found by whom?"
Before Firestar could answer, a fourteenth bot strode into the hangar bay, walking swiftly and proudly as a joyous expression beamed from his gold faceplate.
"Firestar! You didn't tell me we had visitors!"
"Oh my god," Nautica whispered, a hand falling over her mouth.
"Now this is a mystery I just can't wait to solve," Nightbeat murmured.
Star Saber stiffened as the white, red and blue bot approached them. "Thunderclash. You look... alive."
Thunderclash grinned at him. "And you look like you've seen a ghost. I don't believe we've been acquainted?"
"No, we haven't. At least, not directly." Star Saber tentatively offered his hand. "Star Saber, captain of the Lost Light. Before the war, I used to be called Wing Dagger; my brother served in the Elite Guard under your command."
Thunderclash chuckled as he shook the proffered hand. "Ah, Wing Saber, I presume? Yes, I believe he's mentioned you before. So then, what is this about Cyberutopia I was hearing?"
"I believe they've been searching for it for the past year or so," Firestar said. "Rodimus brought them here last year, if I recall correctly. It was just before you seemingly perished."
Thunderclash raised an optic ridge, smirking. "Is that so? Funny; I've been doing the same ever since the war ended. Unfortunately, my condition made it rather difficult to pursue such a quest...."
"And that's another thing," Nightbeat interjected, stepping in between the two captains. "How are you still alive? We thought you were blown up with the Citadel!"
"Nightbeat," Star Saber quietly admonished the detective. "Time and place...."
Thunderclash chuckled. "Correct. This really isn't the place for this conversation. I suggest we move to the Grand Hall; the Mistress is awaiting us there."
Skids frowned. "I don't know. Last time we were in the Grand Hall, we got locked in and nearly blown up."
Thunderclash laughed as he turned to lead the Crusadercons away. "Oh, you needn't worry about that happening this time."
"Yeah? Why not?"
"Because I'm here now."
* * *
Back on the Lost Light, Rung sat alone in his office.
For once, he did not have any appointments scheduled for today. Of course, they had only just left Cybertron; there was still plenty of time for someone to approach him with their troubles. But Whirl had already spoken to him of his recent Vehicon experience, Skids was getting by with his resurgent memories, and even Stormshot had come to terms with her past.
For the first in a long time, Rung had no one to listen to.
He had thought about accompanying Skids and the others to Caminus but something had compelled him to stay behind. Perhaps he just needed some peace and quiet for once; after all, Camiens were rather known for their parties.
As he fiddled with his model of the Fateful Archetype, he felt a strange stirring within his spark chamber. He stopped for a moment, wondering if perhaps the model was subconsciously evoking the feelings of guilt he associated it with, which he had long since pushed away. But when he put the model away in exchange for one of the Longbow, the feeling persisted. In fact, it was even worse now.
Without warning, the model fell from his hands just as a shaft of light burst from his chest. Keeling over, Rung put his hands over his mouth and retched. Something fell out of his mouth and through his fingers, pealing as it hit the floor.
It was at that exact same moment that alarms began to ring throughout the ship....
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