CHAPTER FOUR
--Cybertron, during the Second Great War--
“How did it happen again?”
Rung sighed as he rolled his head to stare at the ceiling, focusing on the one light fixture out of five that was missing. “We were en-route to the Spensifax System to provide support for the Lightning Strike Coalition. We got as far as Spensifax F when we were shot down by a Decepticon Worldburner.”
“And everyone but you perished in the crash?”
Rung closed his optics. “Yes. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why I was the only survivor.”
“I wasn’t going to insinuate anything.” Froid laced his long digits together as he crossed his legs, regarding his old colleague carefully. “What was his name?”
“Pardon?”
“Your patient. The one you got too close to.”
Rung removed his spectacles and polished them for what had to have been for the sixtieth time in as many minutes. “It was something like Domino, I believe. He was the squad’s strategist. Used to work at the casinos in Altihex.”
“And why had he come to see you in the first place?” Froid asked.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” Rung said sternly.
“You’ve already told me plenty.”
Rung groaned, realizing that he had no ground to stand on in terms of argument. Rather than dwell on the uncomfortable subject however, he simply changed tracks. “We had a lot in common,” he said quietly. “He liked to collect models like me, though he had lost his collection when... when Altihex....”
Froid eyed Rung carefully as the latter trailed off. “What else?”
“I...” Rung bit his lip, twirling his spectacles in his hands. “I can’t recall. There was a lot. Too much, I think.”
“And the ship’s tribunal didn’t think much of it?”
“Scanner was the most incensed by it,” Rung murmured. “Judging by how he had reacted, I would wager a guess that he may have had a similar experience with his patients. In any case....”
“So as far as the tribunal of the Fateful Archetype is concerned, you are to be barred from all medicinal practice, correct?” Froid asked.
Rung sighed. “Yes.”
“But they’re dead now. High Command has no idea. No one has any idea... besides me, of course.”
“Correct.”
Froid leaned over in his seat and reached for Rung’s hand but the latter drew away. Instead, Froid settled for resting a servo on the side of Rung’s recharge slab. “I appreciate it that you decided to reach out to me with this, Rung,” the spindly bot said quietly. “It means a lot to me. I had thought that, after I had published, ah, my version of your classification system....”
“Ancient history, Froid,” Rung replied, placing his spectacles back over his face. “I’m over that now. Besides, who else would I have turned to?”
“There is that,” Froid admitted, leaning back as Rung got up from his slab.
The orange psychiatrist was silent for a moment before looking over at his colleague. “This will remain between us, correct?”
“Of course,” Froid said, sounding almost offended. “You know I would never breach protocol in regard to my patients, even if that patient is you.”
“Good.” Rung got up and made for the exit. As he opened the door, he looked over his shoulder at Froid one last time. “And... thank you.”
--The Lost Light, present day--
“They’ve been stabilized for the time being,” First Aid informed Skids as the two of them stood over the comatose forms of Cannonspring and Clocker. “Their injuries are pretty grim -- Cannonspring’s especially so -- but they should be able to make a proper recovery.”
“How long?” Skids asked.
First Aid shrugged. “Who knows. Could be days, weeks, or even months. For Cannonspring, it could be even longer.”
Skids grimaced as he regarded the pair. It did not bode well for the crew if something – or someone – had been able to destroy three components of Nexus Prime, one of the Thirteen Primes, and leave the other two in critical condition. And that was without considering what could have befallen Convoy and Onyx Prime, who had also gone with Nexus to pursue Liege Maximo.
If only they hadn’t lost Vector Prime back on Velocitron; then perhaps they would have been able to deduce what had happened to his fellow Prime.
Leaving the medics to their work, Skids departed from the medbay. Star Saber had already been summoned to the bridge after receiving a call from Cybertron; Skids figured that he would be too preoccupied with other matters to pursue the one regarding Cannonspring and Clocker. But between this and the capture of Rung and Vector Prime, Skids wasn’t exactly content with sitting by while all his friends and past acquaintances got captured or otherwise screwed over.
He knew he had to do something. Fortunately, for once in his life, he had a pretty good idea on where he could start.
* * *
“I’m sorry... who are you again?”
Skids sighed as he leaned against the door frame that led into Anode and Lug’s quarters. Technically it was the ship’s utility closet, but since no one used it the two explorers had retrofitted it to be their living space on the Lost Light, making use of its compartments to hide all of their findings.
“Skids,” the theoretician said exasperatedly. “We met on Caminus.”
“Guess I didn’t catch your name,” Anode said, finding more interest in the Cyber Key she was examining than in making proper conversation. “What do you want?”
“Back on Caminus, you told us you were a blacksmith and that you knew who was behind the attacks—”
“I told you what I knew, or at least as much as I could speculate,” Anode replied. “Lug and I used to work for a guy called Techy – well, we call him ‘Techy’ – and he wanted us to collect senito metallico for Primus knows why. That was 500 years ago and now he wants us all dead for some reason. I don’t know where all the Worldsweepers and the Terrorcons and all that crap came from; all I can tell you is that I’m 99.9% sure that Techy is behind everything.”
“What do you know about this ‘Techy?’” Skids asked. “How did you come into contact with him?”
Anode huffed as she rolled her optics, no doubt realizing that Skids wasn’t planning on dropping the subject. “He was just another client to us. We’ve taken up all sorts of jobs from all sorts of people, not just Cybertronian. I don’t even know if Techy is Cybertronian; he could be a Lord High Priest of the Malus Expanse, for all I know.”
“Do you know of anyone else who has worked for him? Other blacksmiths, perhaps?”
“Well, you can talk to Wipe-Out, wherever he’s hiding. Most of the other blacksmiths I’ve worked with were killed back on Caminus.” Anode shrugged as she continued to analyze the Cyber Key. “That’s all I know. Sorry I can’t be of any more help.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Skids said. “Just thought I’d ask, since... he’s captured one of my best friends and you said you knew something about him and… yeah. Thanks for your time.”
He was about to take his leave and had already turned his back to her when Anode called out after him. “Skids?”
He stopped to look back at her. “Yeah?”
“Your friend....” Anode set down the Cyber Key and slowly turned to look at him. “His name’s Rung, isn’t it?”
Skids blinked, slightly taken aback. “Uh, yes, actually. How did you know?”
“I heard you guys talking about him after he had been captured.” She shifted her optics away as she rubbed her arm. “I... I’ve met him before. Once.”
“Oh. Were you a patient of his?”
“Yeah, he helped me out when I was going through a... difficult patch in my life.” Anode closed her optics as she readjusted her ventilation systems before carefully rising to her feet. “Look, if this is about him – about rescuing him, then maybe I can help.”
“Really?” Skids asked.
“Well, I mean, I don’t know how much help I can be; I’ve already told you everything I know about Techy. It’s not like I’m hiding anything up my subspace compartment. But it probably wouldn’t hurt to have someone who’s been on ‘the inside,’ so to speak.”
Skids smiled. “Well, in that case, I accept your offer.”
“Great. Let me just call up Lug; she went off to stea—uh, I mean, fetch something from that brainy guy’s lab. With his permission, of course.”
“You know, it’s funny that you mention him, because I was actually just about to head there next....”
* * *
“Didn’t I just say my goodbyes to you?”
“No one’s saying goodbye yet,” Skids said as he and Anode forced their way into Perceptor’s lab, which he was now temporarily sharing with Brainstorm. “Not when Rung still needs rescuing.”
“Uh-huh.” Brainstorm gave Skids a tired look. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? Better yet, what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Any good rescue team needs a guy who knows science. Naturally, you were the first bot I could think of.” Skids glanced over at Perceptor, who was busy working on some kind of project. “No offense, Perceptor.”
“None taken,” the scientist replied.
Brainstorm sighed as he pinched the ridge between his optics. “Okay, but in all seriousness: What exactly is your plan? Does Star Saber know you’re doing this?”
“No, and he doesn’t need to,” Skids replied.
“But he’s going to notice when you steal one of the shuttles—”
“Who said anything about stealing shuttles? Star Saber won’t even have to notice we’re gone.”
Brainstorm stared at Skids as if he was speaking a language that had yet to be documented. “What’s that supposed to... oh. Oh no. You’re not seriously thinking about—”
Skids placed a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. I’m not asking you to build another time machine.”
“Good, because—”
“I am, however, asking you to make a teleportation device.”
Brainstorm groaned as he covered his faceplate with his hands. Even Perceptor stopped what he was doing to look over at Skids.
“A teleportation device?” the scientist echoed.
“It can be done, can’t it?” Skids asked. “I mean, if you can build a time machine of all things, then I don’t see why—”
“It took me nearly a thousand years to build that time machine!” Brainstorm snapped. “You’re asking me to make a teleporter in, what, a day? However long you plan on letting Rung wait?”
“I mean, the sooner the better.”
“Okay, but even if I was able to build a teleporter in that short amount of time, how would we able to teleport ourselves to wherever Rung is being held? We don’t even know where he is!”
“We know that’s he on a Worldsweeper,” Skids pointed out.
“Yeah, but there are tons of those! We would have to know the specific one as well as its current location in the galaxy!” Brainstorm stopped to give himself a minute to cool down. When he spoke up again, he did so in a barely restrained voice. “I know you’re worried about Rung. I am too. We all are. But you can’t play the ‘action hero’ every time, Skids. I know that’s your thing, but—”
“The recall trigger,” Skids suddenly said.
Brainstorm closed his optics as he sighed. “The what?”
“Remember when we were on Gigantion, two years ago? It was when we found out that Ultra Magnus was actually Minimus Ambus.”
“Ah, I see where you’re going with this,” Brainstorm muttered. “Right, the Magnus Armor had a recall trigger that teleported its wearer to Tyrest. I get it. And just how, pray tell, are we going to get a recall trigger?”
A dangerous smile crossed Skids’ face. “After he fired Ambus, Tyrest chose Star Saber to be his next enforcer....”
Brainstorm narrowed his optics. “I thought we weren’t bringing Star Saber into this.”
“We’re not; just his recall trigger.”
“But how—”
“I think I can help with that,” said Anode, raising a hand. “Well, me and Lug. We’re kind of experts in that field. Speaking of which, where is she?”
“Right here.” A red servo emerged from beneath a pile of tools, causing Perceptor to let out a startled yell. All kinds of scientific equipment were scattered across the floor as Lug burst out of the pile with a tiny bolt in her hand. “Sorry, I was busy. What are we stealing again?”
Brainstorm gave her a withered look before giving the same look to Skids. “I really hope you know what you’re doing.”
Skids smirked at him. “For once in my life? Yeah, I think I do.”
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