RESCUES AND ESCAPES
“I’ve found her.”A hand fell over Jetfire’s shoulder as Elita-One stepped up behind him. “You have?” she asked, leaning over to look at his monitor.
“She’s in Verenya.” Jetfire pointed at a spot on his screen, which showed four spark signatures pulsing from the same area. “Not only that, but I think those other three are Jazz, Mirage, and Cliffjumper. They register as Autobots, in any case.”
“Then that must be them,” Elita said. “It must also be where Scorponok’s hiding as well. Any Decepticon signatures?”
Jetfire checked. “A handful. Not a lot, though. There’s certainly less of them than there are us.”
“Then let us not waste any time. Set course for Verenya.”
Standing near them, Springer shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know about this,” he grunted. “It seems a bit too easy.”
“I agree,” Elita said. “But at this point, I’m done playing games with these ‘Cons. If they want us to spring their trap, then we will. They’ll just have to count on over a hundred Autobots springing that trap.”
“Point taken,” Springer conceded. “As long as they don’t have a Titan and a combiner of their own, the odds should be in our favor.”
* * *
“So, how does this work?” Thunderclash asked as he fit the teleportation gauntlet over his hand.
“What you’ll want to do is to clench your fist — NOT RIGHT NOW!” Brainstorm snapped as Thunderclash was about to do just that. “You’ll clench your fist so it can charge up. While it does that, whoever is going with you will grab your arm and they’ll teleport along with you.”
“So which one of us is that going to be?” asked Nightbeat. “We probably shouldn’t send too many so that Skids has room to come back with them.”
“I’ll volunteer,” said Whirl. When the others looked at him in surprise, the ex-Wrecker shrugged. “What? Out of everyone in this room, I’m the one with the most guns and the most bloodthirsty. I’m perfect for a daring rescue.”
“Will that be enough, though?” asked Nautica. “Tyrest’s sure to have beefed up his security now that we’ve rescued Rung.”
Brainstorm looked over to Perceptor. “Is there anyway we can teleport them right where Skids is at?”
Perceptor rubbed his chin. “Perhaps. If I can retrace the direction of the particle matter dispersion from when Rung came back to us, I might be able to direct a route right to where Rung was when he teleported off of Tyrest’s ship. That would presumably bring them close to where Rung had been locked up and thus in close proximity to Skids’ location.”
Brainstorm looked back at the others, who all looked confused. “Translation: ‘Maybe.’”
“If it helps,” said Rung, “we were right next to my cell block when Skids gave me the gauntlet. Of course, it’s possible Tyrest has moved him to a different block….”
“It will have to be close enough,” Perceptor said. “Just give me a minute.”
While the scientist went to work, Brainstorm glanced over at Wheeljack, who had not yet joined in on their project. For whatever reason, the engineer was completely engrossed in his “Sumdac investigation,” murmuring to himself about how Elita was going to have her mind blown. Brainstorm was tempted to ask why and how this Sumdac could be so much more important than the life of a fellow Autobot, but he knew that the answer wasn’t going to clear much up.
When Perceptor spoke up again, he sounded oddly quiet and distracted. “That’s odd….”
“What is it?” Nautica asked.
“I’m detecting a surge of energy that’s similar to that of a Transwarp device in use.”
This caught the attention of everyone in the room, even Wheeljack. “Say what again?” the engineer asked.
“Somebody’s teleported here,” Perceptor murmured. “And they’re headed this way.”
Thunderclash stepped over to look at his monitor. “Can you get any readings on who they are?”
Before Perceptor could respond, a knock sounded at the lab door. All of the Autobots (save for Rung) immediately deployed their weapons and spun to face the door. Another light tap came. Keeping his guns raised, Thunderclash slowly moved his hand to the control panel and pressed the door open. It slid open to reveal a winged Vehicon plated in silver armor along with a spindly bot that was unmistakably the Decepticon Viral. In front of them both, on his knees, was Skids with his arms binded in stasis cuffs.
“Hello, Autobots,” the silver Vehicon said cordially. “We would like to make you an offer.”
“What you’ll want to do is to clench your fist — NOT RIGHT NOW!” Brainstorm snapped as Thunderclash was about to do just that. “You’ll clench your fist so it can charge up. While it does that, whoever is going with you will grab your arm and they’ll teleport along with you.”
“So which one of us is that going to be?” asked Nightbeat. “We probably shouldn’t send too many so that Skids has room to come back with them.”
“I’ll volunteer,” said Whirl. When the others looked at him in surprise, the ex-Wrecker shrugged. “What? Out of everyone in this room, I’m the one with the most guns and the most bloodthirsty. I’m perfect for a daring rescue.”
“Will that be enough, though?” asked Nautica. “Tyrest’s sure to have beefed up his security now that we’ve rescued Rung.”
Brainstorm looked over to Perceptor. “Is there anyway we can teleport them right where Skids is at?”
Perceptor rubbed his chin. “Perhaps. If I can retrace the direction of the particle matter dispersion from when Rung came back to us, I might be able to direct a route right to where Rung was when he teleported off of Tyrest’s ship. That would presumably bring them close to where Rung had been locked up and thus in close proximity to Skids’ location.”
Brainstorm looked back at the others, who all looked confused. “Translation: ‘Maybe.’”
“If it helps,” said Rung, “we were right next to my cell block when Skids gave me the gauntlet. Of course, it’s possible Tyrest has moved him to a different block….”
“It will have to be close enough,” Perceptor said. “Just give me a minute.”
While the scientist went to work, Brainstorm glanced over at Wheeljack, who had not yet joined in on their project. For whatever reason, the engineer was completely engrossed in his “Sumdac investigation,” murmuring to himself about how Elita was going to have her mind blown. Brainstorm was tempted to ask why and how this Sumdac could be so much more important than the life of a fellow Autobot, but he knew that the answer wasn’t going to clear much up.
When Perceptor spoke up again, he sounded oddly quiet and distracted. “That’s odd….”
“What is it?” Nautica asked.
“I’m detecting a surge of energy that’s similar to that of a Transwarp device in use.”
This caught the attention of everyone in the room, even Wheeljack. “Say what again?” the engineer asked.
“Somebody’s teleported here,” Perceptor murmured. “And they’re headed this way.”
Thunderclash stepped over to look at his monitor. “Can you get any readings on who they are?”
Before Perceptor could respond, a knock sounded at the lab door. All of the Autobots (save for Rung) immediately deployed their weapons and spun to face the door. Another light tap came. Keeping his guns raised, Thunderclash slowly moved his hand to the control panel and pressed the door open. It slid open to reveal a winged Vehicon plated in silver armor along with a spindly bot that was unmistakably the Decepticon Viral. In front of them both, on his knees, was Skids with his arms binded in stasis cuffs.
“Hello, Autobots,” the silver Vehicon said cordially. “We would like to make you an offer.”
* * *
Cliffjumper hated it when he didn’t know what was going on.
It all stemmed back to when he had been first forged. His spark had ignited from the same hot spot in Iacon as his good friend Bumblebee, no more than an hour apart. However, by the time he had come online, everyone was in a panic because a whole bunch of protoforms had been abducted by someone named “Zizza” and nobody had the time to assign him a caretaker. Before he knew it, someone was plugging a cable into the back of his head and feeding him everything he needed to know about Cybertron in the span of a second. It would be another month or so before he found out what exactly had been going on. By that point, he was no longer in need of a mentor to show him around.
Since then, he had grown to hate being left in the dark. He always had the nagging feeling that something was going without him knowing about it, and that that “something” would negatively impact him in so way. It certainly didn’t help matters when he was forced to work with Autobots like Mirage who could literally turn invisible and do things without him knowing about it. He would never want to admit to being as paranoid as Red Alert… but he certainly felt like it, sometimes.
Right now was no different. Jazz had yet to return. The Decepticons were clearly doing something to him, but Cliffjumper had no idea what. He couldn’t take it anymore; he didn’t want to wait for the ‘Cons to open up the cell door only to throw in Jazz’s smoking corpse.
Having spent the past few hours to muster all of the energy he could, Cliffjumper gave the chains he was hanging from a mighty pull. He heard what sounded like stone cracking. Encouraged, he gave it another pull. Then another. Soon, the whole wall gave way and he fell to the ground, stone bricks falling on top of him. As he burst out from the rubble, he heard footsteps coming from outside, followed by an angry voice.
“What’s going on in there?!”
Cliffjumper grinned to himself as Dropkick came into view. Upon seeing the Autobot and his newfound freedom, Dropkick stormed up and kicked the cell door open, drawing a pair of guns. Not waiting for the Decepticon to make a move, Cliffjumper hefted up the chain still tied to his wrists and swung it at Dropkick. The blue-and-gray bot’s green optics widened just as the chain struck him in the face, staggering him. Cliffjumper then swung the chain again only for Dropkick to grab it this time, pulling on it to hoist the small Autobot up in the air and bring him closer to his face.
“Any last words, Auto-brat?” Dropkick growled as he pressed a gun to Cliffjumper’s head.
“Just two.” With that, Cliffjumper swung his legs forward and locked them around Dropkick’s waist. He then pulled down on the chain and brought the two of them onto the floor. With Dropkick on top of him, Cliffjumper proceeded to bash his fists into the Decepticon’s head, scrambling his systems. As Dropkick’s body started to go slack, Cliffjumper rolled them over and wrenched the Decepticon’s gun out of his hand. After blasting off the cuff at his wrist, he started to tie the chain around Dropkick, making sure to bind his arms to his body.
Once he was sure the makeshift constraint was secure, Cliffjumper pointed the gun at Mirage’s chains and blasted them, freeing the Autobot spy. Mirage then rushed over and helped Cliffjumper pull Dropkick up and drag him into the corner of the cell, slumped against the rubble.
Dusting off his hands, Mirage turned and smiled at Cliffjumper. “A job well done.”
Cliffjumper glared at him. “You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”
The smile dropped, replaced with a look of confusion. “What?”
“I swear, if you told Scorponok and his cronies anything that would do us harm, then I’m leaving you in here with him.”
Mirage sighed in exasperation. “Cliff, come on. Now is not the time for this.”
Cliffjumper gritted his teeth but bit back what he wanted to say. He hated to admit it, but Mirage was right; now was not the time to start being suspicious of everyone. “Fine,” he grunted. “Let’s go get Jazz.”
With that, the two Autobots transformed to their car modes and peeled out of the cell.
It all stemmed back to when he had been first forged. His spark had ignited from the same hot spot in Iacon as his good friend Bumblebee, no more than an hour apart. However, by the time he had come online, everyone was in a panic because a whole bunch of protoforms had been abducted by someone named “Zizza” and nobody had the time to assign him a caretaker. Before he knew it, someone was plugging a cable into the back of his head and feeding him everything he needed to know about Cybertron in the span of a second. It would be another month or so before he found out what exactly had been going on. By that point, he was no longer in need of a mentor to show him around.
Since then, he had grown to hate being left in the dark. He always had the nagging feeling that something was going without him knowing about it, and that that “something” would negatively impact him in so way. It certainly didn’t help matters when he was forced to work with Autobots like Mirage who could literally turn invisible and do things without him knowing about it. He would never want to admit to being as paranoid as Red Alert… but he certainly felt like it, sometimes.
Right now was no different. Jazz had yet to return. The Decepticons were clearly doing something to him, but Cliffjumper had no idea what. He couldn’t take it anymore; he didn’t want to wait for the ‘Cons to open up the cell door only to throw in Jazz’s smoking corpse.
Having spent the past few hours to muster all of the energy he could, Cliffjumper gave the chains he was hanging from a mighty pull. He heard what sounded like stone cracking. Encouraged, he gave it another pull. Then another. Soon, the whole wall gave way and he fell to the ground, stone bricks falling on top of him. As he burst out from the rubble, he heard footsteps coming from outside, followed by an angry voice.
“What’s going on in there?!”
Cliffjumper grinned to himself as Dropkick came into view. Upon seeing the Autobot and his newfound freedom, Dropkick stormed up and kicked the cell door open, drawing a pair of guns. Not waiting for the Decepticon to make a move, Cliffjumper hefted up the chain still tied to his wrists and swung it at Dropkick. The blue-and-gray bot’s green optics widened just as the chain struck him in the face, staggering him. Cliffjumper then swung the chain again only for Dropkick to grab it this time, pulling on it to hoist the small Autobot up in the air and bring him closer to his face.
“Any last words, Auto-brat?” Dropkick growled as he pressed a gun to Cliffjumper’s head.
“Just two.” With that, Cliffjumper swung his legs forward and locked them around Dropkick’s waist. He then pulled down on the chain and brought the two of them onto the floor. With Dropkick on top of him, Cliffjumper proceeded to bash his fists into the Decepticon’s head, scrambling his systems. As Dropkick’s body started to go slack, Cliffjumper rolled them over and wrenched the Decepticon’s gun out of his hand. After blasting off the cuff at his wrist, he started to tie the chain around Dropkick, making sure to bind his arms to his body.
Once he was sure the makeshift constraint was secure, Cliffjumper pointed the gun at Mirage’s chains and blasted them, freeing the Autobot spy. Mirage then rushed over and helped Cliffjumper pull Dropkick up and drag him into the corner of the cell, slumped against the rubble.
Dusting off his hands, Mirage turned and smiled at Cliffjumper. “A job well done.”
Cliffjumper glared at him. “You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”
The smile dropped, replaced with a look of confusion. “What?”
“I swear, if you told Scorponok and his cronies anything that would do us harm, then I’m leaving you in here with him.”
Mirage sighed in exasperation. “Cliff, come on. Now is not the time for this.”
Cliffjumper gritted his teeth but bit back what he wanted to say. He hated to admit it, but Mirage was right; now was not the time to start being suspicious of everyone. “Fine,” he grunted. “Let’s go get Jazz.”
With that, the two Autobots transformed to their car modes and peeled out of the cell.
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