7.Jan.06
Writer's Note: I dedicate 'Here comes Rust' to Rainynight, who read it first and
loved it. (Or so she claimed :) Thanks for encouragement, Rain!
Oh,
and I don't own Beast Warriors and I make no profit of this.
And
keep your hands off Rust! He’s mine!
Part
one
By: Syntia13
There
was a planet.
There
was a space.
And
in the space - darkness and silence.
And
then there was light and a roar of two space-ships fighting.
"Their
shields are down, destroy them!"
"Now,
where's the fun in that?"
"Sir,
I have all systems ready to launch!"
"Then
launch! Destroy their outer guns and inflict as much damage as possible!"
"Aye,
sir!"
A
sleek, slender fighter fell off the bottom of the cruiser and sped towards
Axalon.
Behind
its console Rust bent forward, his mouth half open, blue optics wild with
anticipation. He looked young, he acted young, and, as a matter of fact, he WAS
young. Very young. He would have never had a chance like this back at the
Cybertron. Maximals tried to shoot him down, of course. He made a spectacular
loop, avoiding their firepower, turned by an incredibly acute angle, and, flying
just above enemy's ship's surface, he pulled the trigger. Four times. Four outer
guns went boom. Rust pulled his machine up and flew right through explosions,
screaming loudly out of pure joy. What a ride!
Then
everything around him shook violently and it took him a while to realize what
happened. Axalon was hit by a Predacon volley. He cursed and went into a wild
spin, barely avoiding the next one.
"Stop
shooting at me, you maniac!" he screamed into his comlink.
"Get
out of the battlefield, child!" a harsh voice screamed back.
"Go
scrap yourself, Blue-face!"
Another
volley was the only answer. Rust gritted his teeth, somersaulted over some more
explosions and dived under safe shielding of the maximal ship, firing all the
way. He would make a loop around it, take out few more guns and with any luck--
"Whatta-?"
Where
he was expecting only empty space, something loomed into view. Lots of
somethings. He desperately pulled up, but with the speed he was flying there was
really nothing he could do to avoid ramming into several of them. Four oblong
objects were sent flying toward the planet. The young bot managed to stabilize
his machine enough to take a closer look at remaining obstacles. He blinked,
surprised. Stasis pods? What did these stupid Maximals think they were doing,
littering his fighting space like that? Grrr! He flipped over the left wing,
determined to show them what he though of that... And three shots jammed him
into yet another pod. He cursed again, gripped at the rudders and took his
machine the Pit outta there. He tried, anyway. The fighter didn't react as fast
as it should, for some reason. Rust glanced at 'status' screen and hissed with
frustration.
"Great,
now I'm locked with that stupid pod!"
So
he was. But, as he very soon realized, it was NOT his biggest problem. All
screens blinked suddenly and a mechanical voice announced:
--Entering
atmosphere.
--Approach
angle: incorrect
--Speed:
incorrect
--Danger:
at high level
Rust looked at the screens. He looked at the planet. And he smiled. If his
shields held, he might have a chance to land safely. If the shields didn't
hold... Then he would burn on his way down, down to the last atom.
'Just
like the shooting star'... Oh, what a wonderful way to go...
He
pushed both rudders down, to force an even more inaccurate angle, and speeded
up. His comrades heard his joyful scream just before his comlink was shut off.
"I
TOLD ya the kid was insane!"
"Quiet,
you fool! Man the side guns!"
At
which point their ship was hit, and they were all too concerned about themselves
to think about Rust anymore.
__________________________________________________________________________
Exploration ship Axalon, Optimus Primal's pride and joy, was now a pitiful
sight. Crushingly wedged between the two mountain spires, it looked like a bird
with broken wings.
"Damage
report?" a little strained voice, as if someone was trying not to stir a
splitting headache, which was the case.
"Believe
me, you don't wanna know." young, tired voice of someone recovering from
worst fright of his life.
"Engines
are busted, shields module is fried, we've lost over 50% of outer guns, and,
thanks to that fighter, cargo hold #7 is one empty gaping hole. Not to mention
minor damages everywhere." This voice belonged to someone who would
remind calm even when faced with ultimate end of everything.
"Prime.
What did we have in hold#7?"
"Spare
parts, mostly"
"And
dat means, when ya break somethin', ya can recycle it straight away, 'cause we
wont fix it."
"Exaggerating
is not what we need right know. Better go and check DNA scanners. If the
readings I'm getting here are correct, we're going to need them."
"Yeah,
sure, give da dirty work to small guy, he can'tgrumblegrumblegrumle..."
__________________________________________________________________________
--Warning.
Energon surge. Stasis lock imminent.--
Rust
blinked, trying to make sense of the words. Stasis lock? Nonononono, no good
going into stasis, he's alone here... With no one to get him into a CR-tank,
stasis only means prolonged death. But he has a little something with him to
prevent it, right? Lucky him...
He
grunted and lifted himself of the ground. His Emergency Kit was where it should
be, tucked safely in his right tight subspace pocket. He flicked it open, picked
up one little tube and shook it expertly. It clicked and revealed its true
nature. A syringe. Well, kind of. Rust was about to put its 'needle' in his
chestplate port, when his whole body shook violently.
--Warning.
Energon surge. Stasis lock imminent.--
"Override
it, you stupid, slaggin'..."
With
some effort he managed to put the 'needle' into the right place and winced when
it reached his spark casing. Now all he had to do was push the piston... Which
proved to be a problem. His body shook again.
"Shut
up!"
He
tried again, but his fingers refused to bend. Then came another shock and with a
quiet groan, Rust fell face first into darkness.
__________________________________________________________________________
The Predacons’ cruiser crash-landed in a much more hostile area than the
Axalon did, in the middle of lava fields. A brown raptor stepped out of it,
golden disk in his hand. He was boiling inside, and NOT because of the outside
temperature.
"No,
no, NO! It is all wrong! This cannot be Earth! Megatron, you FAILED! You failed
to destroy the Maximals when you had the chance, you've already lost us a
soldier, and we're not even on the right planet! We stole the Golden Disk
for nothing, you IDIOT!" with that he tossed said object with a force that
would surely shatter it, had Megatron not caught it.
"I
beg your pardon. What did you call me?"
"You
heard. You are an idiot and an incompetent leader. And I am taking over! Dinobot
- TERRORIZE!"
Megatron
just rolled his optics at the rest of warrior's tirade. Challenge for leadership
was nothing new, and he rather expected it, since this particular bot was
against the whole affair from the beginning. It had taken all his persuasive
skills to convince Dinobot to take part in this plan (which was risky, he had to
admit, but still better than just sabotaging maximal guarding posts and hoping
that the Tripredicus Council will finally move their skid-plates and actually DO
something...), and it wasn't surprising that he was, let's say, a little upset
right now.
"You're
so impulsive, Dinobot. Brave, but misguided," he said graciously, with a
patronizing smile. He shouldn't have done that, he knew, but really, it was hard
to take all this ranting seriously.
Dinobot's
optics narrowed. "Do you accept my challenge!?"
"There
is more to being a leader than simple courage," he answered, turning his
back to the warrior. With any other Pred, that would be an invitation for a
dagger through the spark, but not this one. Backstabbing was, after all, 'dishonorable'.
Well, there are things we all have to learn the hard way.... Megatron gestured
to his second-in-command.
Scorponok
sighed inwardly. He really hated it. But since he had to be the one doing
others' dirty work, he at least could make sure he would end up with hands as
clean as possible. Hence he set his missile to maximum range and minimum damage.
Dinobot wont be injured...much...but he'll be removed from their leader's sight
for a while.
Their
leader faced Dinobot again and smiled. "There is cleverness and cunning as
well. Isn't that right, Scorponok?" He sidestepped, and Scorponok fired.
The shocked look on the other bot's face made him feel even more disgusted with
himself, but, well...what did he expect?
Megatron
traced the airborne warrior with his eyes, then shrugged.
"Loser,"
he murmured with a 'he'll be back when he gets hungry' look on his
face. Then he turned to the rest of his troops.
__________________________________________________________________________
--Energy level at 10% and falling
--Energy
level at 12% and falling
--Energy
level at 8%, rising
--10%,
9%, 13%...
"Shut
up..."
--14%,
11%--
"Shut
UP!"
Rust
groaned as another shock went through him.
"All
power to dampers..."
--Acknowledged.
Energy level at 15% and rising.
He
sat up and looked around dazedly. Why was he still on-line? Then he look down
and sneered. When he'd fallen, his own weight forced syringe's contents into his
circuits. Talk about lucking out...
--Energy
level at 22 %, stabilizing.
Not
perfect, but it will do, Rust decided. Now, where is Raven? He looked around and
moaned.
"Oh,
baby..."
He
staggered towards the heap of scrap that had become of his ship. He touched her
side gently. Engines were busted, the left wing was half the size it should be,
and the missile magazine was... non-existent. The only seemingly undamaged part
was the cockpit. Lucky again.
"I'm
so sorry, Raven... But I need your help now."
The
cockpit door was jammed, so he just crawled in through a large hole in front of
a clear panel, which must have been the exact way he left his ship in the first
place. Note to self: always check seatbelts' buckle before planet diving...
He
tapped a few keys and smiled with relief when screens blinked in response.
Lucky, lucky, lucky. Ok, what now? Readjust shields to dampen energon fields -
checked. Hook himself to energon feeder - checked. Think about something he just
knows is important, but cannot quite remember at the moment - er, later. Go
off-line for a short recharge period - checked....
How
was he supposed to find Megatron now? Provided he was on the same planet, that
is... Well, he'll just have to search the old-fashioned way. But for now... Rust
relaxed and checked the screens. He winced at damage reports, winced even more
at energy level stats, snorted in disbelieve at outside power level readings,
did a double take and grunted. So that's where that energon surge came from.
Perfect. He's stuck in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by energon fields that
will short-circuit him after few cycles' exposure. It wouldn't be a problem, if
Raven weren't predacon-built. Predacons didn't much care what would happen to
some lonely pilot, who was stupid enough to get stranded on an over-energonized
planet. At least Maximals put DNA-scanners and transformation module into every
unit they built... Rust sat upright suddenly and smiled.
"Raven,
find me any maximal junk near here."
--Unknown
voice command.--
"Grrr,
stupid cheap software... I KNEW I should have stolen something better for you.
OK, Raven, find me any mechanical objects of maximal manufacture."
--Unknown
voice command.--
With
a soft hiss the young bot gave up and bent over the keyboard. It took some time,
but he finally forced the stubborn computer to enlist all scanning commands and
then he picked the one that looked most promising.
"Scan
surroundings for technological units," he muttered in disgust. "What a
heap of garbage..."
The
computer beeped. Rust checked the coordinates and smiled. Not that far. Now,
sensible thing to do would be to convert all power to field dampers and walk
slowly, saving energy. That's what every reasonable bot would do. Rust stifled
laughter. Not what he will do, then. He sped off in his motorcycle mode.
__________________________________________________________________________
Megatron was in a foul mood. His first battle on this planet didn't go as well
as he wished for. Not even close. He was used to commanding soldiers who knew
how to act on the battlefield. For example, to seek cover and actually hit
targets they were aiming at.
And
now he had to deal with a scientist who had probably lived through the war
hidden in a lab somewhere, another so-called scientist, who as a matter of fact
had experience in fighting, but lost his battle edge long ago, an over-confident
street fighter, and Waspinator. Oh yes. Waspinator. Megatron closed his eyes for
a moment and growled. Whatever had possessed him to bring that idiot along? Oh,
never mind.
It's
almost a miracle, really, that they had managed to pull off the theft and get
away with it. Having secret ace up his power-gauntlet helped, of course. The ace
he no longer had. A shame, really. Rust was such an obedient and promising
bot...unlike some others he knew...grrrr.
He
shot a disgusted glance at his troops. The sooner Dinobot comes back the better.
Speaking
of the devil....
The
Maximals they were stalking stopped suddenly and the purple T-rex smiled with
satisfaction when he spotted the raptor's silhouette ahead of them. Blocking
their only passage to Axalon.
Faultless.
With a warrior on a narrow bridge and the rest of Predacons at their back, the
Maximals didn't stand a chance.
Megatron
scanned the scenery, chose the best attack spot and started toward it, his
'soldiers' right behind him. He had to hand it to Dinobot, he knew how to--
"...Megatron
will fall as soon as I have your Maximals at my command..."
The
gust of wind brought the words with it, and Megatron stopped dead in his tracks.
He must have misheard it, it was impossible--
"Dinobot,
MAXIMIZE!"
--or
wasn't. Megatron's reptilian eyes were almost round with shock.
That...that...that backstabbing Pred! They've been working together in PLF*
for stellar-cycles, and now he was turning against him because-- because of
what? One stupid missile?
He
could swallow that, he could swallow treachery and questioning his command
(within reason, naturally), but siding with Maxis? Actually becoming
one of them?
His
shock turned to fury. He dimly heard Tarantulas speaking "Not the winner is
what interests me..."
"Nor
me, noo," he snarled. "How much more preferable would be if they both
lost, yess. Predacons, TERRORIZE!
__________________________________________________________________________
The stasis pod laid at the end of a long, still smoking clearing amid the pine
trees, and Rust knew the protoform inside was dead even before he got close
enough to see it. And when he was close enough, he could easily see why. The
pods had three independent life support systems. One above the protoform's head
- where Raven's nose smashed it. One at its feet - where one of the Axalon's
shooters scored. And one at the bottom - which apparently was sticking outside
Raven's shielding on the way down, and was now one melted mass of metal. The
poor bot within was dead before his pod ever touched the ground. But DNA
scanners had been protected by the shields and looked undamaged. How
extremely...lucky....
Five
shots down, five more we've got
One
shall live, and one - shall - NOT!
Rust
blinked, shaking off singsong voices and attached memory. "Looks like I've
won in Pred's Roulette once more," he whispered. "Pity none of us knew
we were playing..." He lifted the clear lid and caressed the other bot's
face gently. "I'm sorry," he breathed, and he meant it. But it didn't
stop him from removing the limp body from the pod. He needed a new mode, and it
wasn't like it mattered for that bot anymore.
He
powered up the DNA scan and was amazed at the multitude of life forms it
detected.
"Cool.
Now, something big and nasty..." he found filtering commands and chose
'mammals' 'predators'. Only a few of those. And at the top of the list - Rust's
smile threatened to slice his head in half - was a wolf.
"Night
singer. Absolutely perfect." He hit 'confirm' button and was about to
settle in the pod, when a thought hit him. Programming chip and personal
datatrax. He didn't want to have anything to do with those, but to eliminate
them he'd have to work on the pod's circuitry. And he wasn't good with
circuitry. In fact, he was hopeless with it. For some strange reason every
single bit of machinery with exposed circuitry or wiring tended to
short-circuit, or even explode, when he tried to mess with it. He had learned to
live with it, and even use it to his advantage sometimes, but when he wanted to
modify or fix something, he had to rely on others. And now he was alone.
Choices,
choices.
To
risk frying the whole stasis pod, his only chance to survive....
Or
to risk getting a programming upgrade he didn't wish to get.
Mmmm,
the thrill of indecision....
Let's
see, which option would be considered 'most stupid, reckless and irresponsible'
by Mr. Know-It-All-Soundblast? Hehehe.
He
opened the EK box again and took out some tools. There were 'medical
instruments', which meant they were exactly like 'mechanical tools', only
better.
Oh,
he almost forgot... he pulled the little catch that opened a hidden compartment
in the box. It was divided in sixty little cubbyholes. When he'd begun his
Journey To The Pit With Sightseeing On The Way, each was occupied by one
tube-like syringe. But now – the bot's hand froze in bewildered realization -
half of them were empty. Had he really used so much already? A little ping of
anxiety squeezed his spark, but then he shook it off. So what? He most probably
won’t have time to use them all anyways. He'll just have to be less wasteful.
A sudden thought made him chuckle - medics at ESDS-Hospital would probably freak
out if they ever discovered he was sometimes using their precious medicine like
some kind of an emergency battery.
Still
laughing softly he took out the next tube, closed the compartment and put the
syringe in its place on the very top of the emergency kit. It was a must-be to
have one close at hand, in case his spark misbehaved.
And
now, back to the task. He selected the tool, smash-opened the panel and managed
to successfully remove the maximal programming chip when Murphy struck out. It
was a very simple chain of events.
-
Strong energon fields.
-
Lack of energy in field dampers.
-
Energon surge shock.
-
Sharp tool's tip hitting fragile wiring casing.
-
And cutting some wires that weren't supposed to be cut.
-
Rust's hand slipping from insulated handle.
-
And touching unprotected metal.
-
Loud sizzle of overloading circuits.
-
Small electrical fire.
"You
rusted son of a toaster!"
Rust
shook his zapped hand.
"You
fried son of a toaster," he corrected resignedly. "Just please tell me
DNA scanners are still on-line..."
Amazing,
but they were. Apparently, it was one of the older pod versions, with separate
modules for each task. Good for him.
OoooKeeey,
show time. He hopped into the pod and closed the lid.
"Activate
transformation program"
Machines
around him hummed to life, a thin line of scan run along his body, and
then...nothing, absolutely nothing he'd ever experienced had prepared him for
what happened next.
He'd
always been life-hungry. He craved for sensations. Intense, faint, pleasant,
painful - he wanted them all. He was looking forward to this new experience, and
now he discovered that what the pod did to him meant total lack of
sensations.
He
had been liquefied.
There
were no hands to touch with.
There
were no optics to see with.
There
were no audios to hear with.
There
was only his conscious spark, suspended in nothingness.
Oh,
nasty. Ughh, nastier. Oh yuck, awful! Why people ever DO that?! And why was he
still on-line? Wasn't the pod supposed to knock him off-line?
At
which point, it did knock him off-line.
__________________________________________________________________________
Rattrap screamed when the bridge disappeared from under his feet, and then
yelped when a hand closed on his wrist and he slammed hard against cliff wall.
His optics dimmed, and when his vision cleared, he was standing safely on the
ground. He took a nano to restart his air intakes and to make sure his chest
plate hadn't been, in fact, knocked right trough his back plate. It certainly
felt like it...
"You’re
welcome."
Rattrap
glanced at Optimus angrily. He was not in the mood to admit that he owned him.
They could have been still exploring, had Primal not answered some stupid
emergency alert....
"You're
da leader, it's yer, uh, job."
Optimus
glared at him.
Rhinox,
I just hope you were right about this bot.
Another
leader was, to put it lightly, disappointed with his crew as well. He gave an
order to destroy a slaggin' bridge. Not the cliff walls, not the sky, the
bridge. Since his laser wasn't designed to deal with rocks, he had to rely on
Tarantulas and Scorponok, and only the former did his job. Scorponok missed by a
parsec. With a furious roar Megatron bashed at Terrorsaur (a few of his
shots singed Megatron's shoulder, and he was almost positive it was no accident)
and turned to strangle the main culprit, who raised his claws in futile defense.
"Incompetent!
You let them--"
The
purple bot dropped Scorponok and shielded his optics from an enormous explosion,
and when the smoke cleared, he forgot about his anger completely.
"Energon!"
Scorponok's
missiles weren't a total waste after all....
__________________________________________________________________________
The lid was jammed. That meant the big wolf was trapped inside a very small
space. And he didn't like it in the least. Voice commands, persuasion and curses
didn't affect the stubborn component at all, and it was time for brute force.
"Open"
he demanded, slamming his back against it. It didn't cooperate, so he tried
again, and again, and again.
"Open.
Open. OpenopenopenOPEN!"
"See,
it wasn't so hard" Rust hopped out of the pod and breathed deeply. Ah,
freedom! And then he froze and his green eyes very slowly went big and round.
The
smells! Everywhere around him! He could almost taste them, he could trace them,
he could easily identify their sources, there were SO MANY of them! Primus, and
he'd lived all his live depending on his optics and audios only! What else had
he missed?
He
stood there motionlessly for quite some time, marveling at what his nose was
telling him. One scent suddenly cut trough the rest. It was warm, and soft, and
had undertones in it that told Rust that it was coming from some kind of energy.
No, he corrected himself as his body lunged after it. Not energy. Food.
The
joy of chase. Twigs slashing at his muzzle. Soft moss under his paws. Something
small and fluffy running away, its smell no longer soft, but tinged with sharp
note of...fear.
One
final leap.
Squeaaack!
Crunch...
Oh
man, how come no one ever told him eating is such a pleasure?
Rust
trotted back to stasis pod licking his lips. He felt wonderfully full. Mmmm, he
really loved this mode. He wasn't even upset that he lost the motorcycle one. It
was definitely worth it.
He
stopped by lifeless metal form of rightful pod occupant and sniffed at him. So
many scents in one dead bot.... He sighed and transformed.
"Thanks
for the life, buddy," he murmured, picking the corpse up. He put it back in
the pod and slammed the broken latch shut. There was no chance of proper
recycle, and this was as good coffin as any. "Bye."
Raven,
not surprisingly, was exactly where he'd left her. He inspected damages
carefully and shook his head in grief. This fighter would never fly again.
Sigh....
He
crawled inside and rummaged around until he found his backpack. Well, actually
it was just a big rectangular container with automatic magno-clamps, but he
carried it on his back and used it for packing things, therefore he called it a
backpack. It was quite handy for a bot on the run. Subspace pockets could only
hold that much, after all.
He
filled it with every piece of junk he thought would be useful, threw it outside,
took one last look at the cockpit and left himself.
Outside
he knelt by Raven's side pressing his forehead to it.
It
had been love on sight. Rust first saw Raven on Galorie's Aerial Stunt Contest,
and just knew he had to fly her. It took him over a month to steal her, and even
longer before the enraged owner finally gave up the chase. And now she was dead.
"It
was a wonderful stellar-cycle, Raven. Goodbye."
He
walked away slowly, and when he was far enough, he pressed the button on the box
he was holding. He didn't look back at the sound of explosion. He'd said
farewell to many friends. It was better not to look back.
__________________________________________________________________________
"I ain't lettin' him in!"
Rattrap
stood in front of the lift, robot mode, fists clenched. "Over my sparkless
body!"
"Mmmm,
that could be arranged," growled Dinobot, but Optimus hushed him with a
gesture. He'd tried to be reasonable, but it didn't work, so...
"One
more word, Rattrap, and you'll find yourself in a holding cell!"
Small
bot looked almost ready to go for it for a nano, but then he just threw his
hands up. "Fine! Whatever! Trust a Pred! Just don't run cryin' to me when
ya wake up wit' his sword in yer back!" He stormed away.
Optimus
breathed deeply to cool his circuits and calmed down. "Cheetor, show
Dinobot where the quarters are."
When
the two disappeared inside Axalon, Primal sighed and turned to the last Maximal
present.
"Did
I make mistake?"
Rhinox
looked at him thoughtfully. "Hmm, maybe...but I don't think so."
Optimus
closed his gorilla eyes and shook his head tiredly. "Rattrap is right. I am
an exploration vessel commander, not a war leader." He looked up at his
friend. "You would make a lot better work of it."
It
was rhino's turn to shake his head. "Don't even ask me, Optimus. I didn't
accept promotion back then, I wont accept it now. Besides, you're doing just
fine."
The
gorilla tried to smile wearily. "I really hope you're right..."
__________________________________________________________________________
Bad mood seemed to be contagious that day.
Tarantulas
was furious. Fuming. Enraged. Absolutely mad. He'd just examined ships engines
and confirmed that cruiser was grounded. And that meant, that he (and the rest
of Predacons, but who cares?) was stuck on this disgusting dirtball.
May
the Pit swallow Tripredicus Council and whole PSP*
with it!
It
was bad enough that he was assigned to such a lowly task as invigilating
Megatron. He knew the reasons. After he'd got half of his squad and five head
scientists killed in his last assignment, he was lucky to even be alive.
But
WHY had those incompetents let Megatron escape? And TWICE at that!? He'd given
them exact time and details of planned theft, he'd given them coordinates of a
hideout, and what did they do? They passed information to the Maximals.
MAXIMALS!!! Who sent exploration ship after battle cruiser commanded by a
predacon general. Former, and without an army, but general nonetheless.
$&*%&* slaggin' STUPID!
He
punched a wall few times and strode through dark corridors, fuming silently.
__________________________________________________________________________
The evergreen forest was now just a blur far back on the horizon, replaced by a
grassy plain. The plain that was ending abruptly in a steep rock face. Up ahead,
cutting at the sky, where mountains, gray-blue and white. And occupying the
valley between the two was a massive woodland. It wasn't on fire. It only looked
like it.
Gray
wolf with a black container on his back was standing on the edge of the cliff,
soaking in everything. Oh Primus, he just had to remember this! Lets see.
The
smell of rotting leaves - accord of few deep notes.
The
frosty air - high pitched, crowded, fast notes.
The
mountains - a rumbling background few octaves down.
But
how to transcribe to sounds all those reds, oranges, yellows, and occasional
greens? Tricky. Maybe leveled, middle pitched tune with undertones sliding
around it?
He
tried that out and grinned. Yep. Sounded just like an autumn forest.
It
was his most private and highly guarded secret. He had hundreds of such tunes
stored in his datatrax, and all he had to do was to replay one in his mind for
memories to explode behind his optics.
He
stood there yet for a while, and then resumed his search.
__________________________________________________________________________
It was few solar-cycles later. Things settled down a little, enough for Rhinox
to concentrate on his job. But he encountered some difficulties...
He
tapped his fingers against datapad, but its content refused to change. It was
Axalon's cargo register.
"Somethin'
buggin' ya, buddy?"
"I
wanted to work on our comlinks to eliminate communication problems..."
"But?"
"But
we don't have enough component's. Most of long range comm equipment and its
spare parts were in cargo hold #7."
"The
one I spent the whole solar-cycle patching up"
"Yep."
"So
now wadda ya do?"
"Work
with what I have."
"Which
is nothin'. Eh, we're all gonna die."
"It's
not funny, Rattrap."
"Can
ya see me smilin'?"
__________________________________________________________________________
Rust hid an energon feeder in his backpack and stretched his arms, fresh influx
of energy spreading through his body. Hunting was fun and satisfying, but
energon kept him going for longer. And it looked like it would take a looooong
time to find Megs. And he had to find him.
Because
he'd sworn to protect and obey Megatron, and rouge as he was, he always honored
his word. Period.
He
activated backpack's clamps, tossed it in the air, beastmoded and jumped under
it as it fell. It clamped neatly to his back and Rust grinned a wolfish grin of
self-admiration. He then trotted along mountain ridge until he reached the point
where it sloped down. To the left slope was descending in a long, curved and
almost snow-free pass. To the right it was steep and covered with knee-high
layer of snow.
The
safe way and the fast way.
Sheesh,
these choices were killing him. Hehehe.
YeeeeeHaaaaaaa!!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Inside a cave weaved in patchwork of spider webs Tarantulas checked the monitors
and muttered something unrepeatable in irritation. First a huge energon storm
forced him to shut down all systems, then Megatron summoned him to inspect one
of computers, claiming that it had served as a transporter only a mega-cycle ago
(spider chuckled at the thought; like anyone on the planet had a knowledge to
build such thing!), and now this.
He'd
build about fifty arachnids that everybody called 'flashlights' (they were handy
spy-devices in fact) and have send half of them to investigate a signal his
scanners had picked up some time ago. The signal turned out to be small maximal
beacon, laying amid other parts scattered on the desert. Most of them where too
big for arachnids to move, but Tarantulas, chuckling evilly, made them collect
smaller parts, beacon included. Teeheehee, Maximals will be in for a little
surprise when he lays his hands on that...
He'd
been monitoring arachnids' movements through the screens and everything was fine
till one of links went dead. He'd blamed it on interferences at the time, but
now four more screens showed static. Something was destroying his devices!
He
sat behind the console and remotely turned one of arachnids around. The screen
showed nothing but other machines, marching steadily, and a lot of sand. No
weather anomalies, no Maximals, nothing.
And
just when Tarantulas thought that whatever problem had been, it was gone now,
vision on the screen shook and spun, showing something red, with a hint of
opalescent. Spider gawked, then swiftly switched to another 'flashlight', and
turned it around to see the mysterious attacker.
A
cat. A handsome red cat, with a piece of metal scrap in its muzzle. As
Tarantulas watched, it tossed it to the air, caught it again, shook it a little,
and when it failed to move, dropped it to the ground and started towards
him...toward his devises, that is.
Oh
no you don't! He hastily turned on the speakers, set volume on high and bellowed
"GET OUT OF HERE ACURSED FELINE!!!"
The
cat did its best to beat a record in vertical jump, and then disappeared in a
cloud of dust.
__________________________________________________________________________
Rust sneezed and smiled a wolfish smile at a little cloud that formed before
him. He snapped at it cheerfully. He was having really great time, running,
hunting and...and... going somewhere? He frowned suddenly and shook his head.
Searching
for Megatron.
What's
wrong with him?
He
tried to remember what he'd been doing lately, and though it was pretty
monotonous, (going up, going down, going up, going down), he was sure there were
holes in his memory. Like when he was sliding down a slope, thinking of
re-energizing...and then suddenly he was lapping from the stream, blood on his
head and paws.
What's
happening?
Maybe
the pod messed up his memory chips after all?
Well,
one more reason to hurry up the search. Megatron had CR-tanks on his ship.
__________________________________________________________________________
For some time things went smoothly, and then everything happened at the same
time.
Tarantulas
rushed into his lair and lunged for the scanners. They'd had another little
'battle' with Maximals, but to the Pit with that, the signal, has his
scanner picked up the signal?!
Yes!
Frequency,
scan, save.
Frequency
from his datatrax, download, compare.
Do
they match?
Visor
narrowed, mandibles gritted, he stared at the screen and waited...
...and
a pure, intense hatred flooded him, gluing him to the place. He had no idea how
long he'd been standing there, glaring at two simple words.
It
was sudden movement on the other screen that finally unfroze him.
Vision
from one of arachnids was hopping wildly, and it was no a great mystery why. The
cat was back.
Tarantulas
darted to the console.
"DON'T
YOU TOUCH THAT YOU BLASTED ANIMAL!"
The
blasted animal jumped few steps away, but didn't bolt this time. It cocked its
head, watching strange noisy things curiously, and then followed them.
"Oh
I HOPE you will follow them straight to my lair, cat! I'll show you what
curiosity is all about! I'll keep you alive for MONTHS!"
Bleep
**Tarantulas!** Scorponok's panicked voice came through the comlink.
Spider
whirled in place.
"WHAT!?"
**Megatron
is badly damaged!**
__________________________________________________________________________
Rust scaled another peak, straighten up and breathed deeply, savoring the sight,
the freezing sensation in his air intakes and the way his strained joints
relaxed. Mmmm...
Up
here energon fields were very weak, allowing him to stay in robot mode much
longer, and he eagerly exploited that. Scaling was fun, and the fact that
energon surge could kick in unexpectedly, messing up his coordination, only
added thrill to it. Mmmm, the thrill...
And
the memory lapses seemed to subside, which was a good news as well.
His
optics shining brightly, Rust checked his inner scanner, more out of habit than
hope, and laughed suddenly.
"Whaddaya
know, it's working!"
"Cool!"
It
was very limited information, true, but, as he was told, it was the price of the
range and secrecy. Megatron didn't even know he had a small tracking device
half-fused into his hard core...
Here
I come, Megs! You wont escape me now!
With
a brilliant smile the young bot beastmoded (his backpack fell off of his robot
back and almost immediately clamped to his wolf one - hey, he was getting better
and better at this!) and hit the road. Er...the mountains. Er, oh, whatever!
But
just as his thoughts dissolved into warm haze of happiness and
self-satisfaction, the readings changed.
status:
damaged, off-line;
NO!
Nonononono, his oath! He didn't waste time freezing in terror or shouting.
He
shot out of place, speeding through the mountains.
It
was sheer panic that was driving him running along crests, sliding down to
passes, flying in wild leaps over cracks. If he didn't keep his word... He had
to keep his word!
He
was barely aware of his surrounding blurring past him.
Two
words were burning in his mind.
damaged,
off-line;
Damaged.
Not terminated. Not yet.
He
ran.
__________________________________________________________________________
The
CR-tank's platform rose, and Megatron emerged, roaring in remembered pain. It
took him a few nanos to realize that pain wasn't there anymore, that he was safe
in his base.
What
happened? He looked up at a cheering Scorponok, and asked that out loud.
Tarantulas
stepped back from the console, where he had been overseeing the restoration.
"You
and Waspinator were returned to us, badly damaged."
Megatron
closed his eyes, trying to dig up memories from his clouded mind. He nodded
slowly.
"Yess.
I remember now"
__________________________________________________________________________
functional, on-line;
Rust
collapsed on his muzzle. Panic had worn off over two mega-cycles ago, and since
then he'd been going on by pure determination. Now he was paying for it. The
world was spinning around him, flashing in bright colors (hey, nice colors...)
and all his circuits were queuing up to complain about overtime and bad working
conditions.
He
needed to recharge.
No,
he needed to re-energize.
No,
he needed a CR-tank...
Megatron,
I'm gonna kill you. Well, maybe not you, but
somebody...
Lesson
to remember, children: transforming while seriously overstrained and energon
depleted hurts.
He
whined softly, pulling out the feeder and energon crystals.
I
shall remember that experience fondly...after
the pain wears off...
He
dug himself a hole in the snow, crawled in, and only after he did that he
wondered why. Perhaps beast instincts kicked in...but he was in robot mode...
But before he could give that a second thought, the universe waved goodbye and
shut him out.
__________________________________________________________________________
Optimus's
consciousness drifted in darkness, trying to find something familiar it could
relate to. It remembered brief, intense pain, remembered its body
disappearing...
Its
body. His body. Where was it?
He
thought he could sense it somewhere near...near, but beyond his reach. He needed
help. There was someone who could help...
Maximals.
Yes. He remembered now. And as he concentrated on the memory, he heard faint
voices. Was it Rhinox? And Rattrap... sounding upset. And another raised voice
responding him. An argument? No, they can't be fighting. He was alone and afraid
and needed their help. But can he reach them? Can he reach his Maximals?
Maximals...
Silence.
"Maximals!
Come in, are you receiving?"
Silence
still. What if they cannot hear him?
"Maximal
Command Base, this is Optimus."
**Optimus?
This is Rhinox, where are you?**
Oh,
thanks the Matrix...
"Hard
to say. I think my body is locked inside the alien probe, but--"
Accented
voice interrupted him.
**We'll
come and getcha. Just keep static**
He'd
never thought he would be so glad to hear that voice... And that it could hold
so much concern in it. It helped him to calm down and focus.
"Just
beware Predacon attack. They'll be after you, now that you're outnumbered.
Rattrap, you're in charge"
Because
Cheetor is out of question, Dinobot...he would cause too much trouble, and
Rhinox would never forgive me. And because there's so much concern in your
voice.
Please
come and get me out of here...
__________________________________________________________________________
Rust was waked three mega-cycles later by a surge shock. He cursed
half-heartedly, unhooked the feeder, beastmoded and slept on. He dimly noted
that something had changed, but he didn't care. The universe could collapse and
reborn several times for all he cared right now. He needed rest!
Hallo,
this is your self-preservation speaking, wake up!
I
mean it, there is something wrong, sleepyhead!
Something
is suffocating you, WAKE UP!
With
a growl Rust jumped on his feet. 'Suffocate' was exaggerating; the pressure was
very weak, and the air was still tolerable. His beast mode instincts were a bit
paranoid...
Well,
ok, they probably weren't used to being buried under ten feet of snow. He knew
it was ten feet, because he took time to measure the tunnel he'd dug to the
surface.
He
must have slept through some heavy snowing. Two solar-cycles of heavy snowing.
He
yawned, hooking himself to the feeder again. The pain and dizziness were gone,
but he was hungry. He caught himself thinking about rabbits, deers, birds,
ferrets...
"Energon
is just fine, you bloodthirsty creature..." and he laughed silently at the
sound of it.
Loneliness
is getting at you, isn't it. Well, you've spent most of your live among people.
Even when you where hiding from them in some cargo-hold, you could still sense
them. You miss it, don't you...
He yawned again.
"Talking
to yourself is a sign of madness." He chuckled. "Which means half of
our crew is insane. I should fit in nicely."
IF
he would find them... He checked his Megs-checker. Still on-line, still on the
planet. Good.
When
he felt full he trotted onward, and after a few more slopes he discovered that
his mad race had taken him almost all the way through the mountain range.
He
took one look at the magnificent open space before him, mostly filled with
water, and whistled loudly in appreciation.
Whistling
loudly in snow-laid mountains is NOT a wise thing to do. Rust learned about it
the hard way.
OW.
Oooow. Owowowowowow my head ow ow owowow my paws owmy tail... my tail! do I
still have my tail? OW. I have. It hurts. Owowowowow my back...
owowowowowowoowow my everything! WHAT happened?
After
some serious howling done, he was finally able to focus. He could barely move,
the air was stiff and he was surrounded by cold whiteness.
Primus,
I HATE deja vu's... They are waste of time! And I don't have time to waste!
So
maybe you should start digging, smart head? OW! No, start internal repairs
first....
It
took him a long time to free himself from a snowy grave. He didn't bother to
measure the tunnel this time. He was sore, and hungry, and he'd had enough snow
to last him a life time (ha!), and if his famous luck didn't come back
with a very good excuse it would end up discovering how extremely
displeased with it Rust was! Grrrrr!
But
then he looked up and his bad mood was kicked away in an instant.
He
was practically at the seashore. And he loved water! He loved how it looked, how
it sounded, how it reflected the light... and now he had all intention of
discovering if swimming was such fun as it looked like for fleshlings.
It
was. And some fish were dumb enough to swim straight into his jaws. All praise
the beast mode!
__________________________________________________________________________
A few solar-cycles later he was sitting comfortably, enjoying the wind in his
fur, and singing at the top of his lungs. He allowed himself that breach of
security, because he was in the middle of the ocean, with no sentient in sight,
and he could barely hear himself anyway. It wasn't any of his compositions, of
course. They were only music, without words. No, he was singing a marine song he
picked up from four-armed, tailed fleshlings from Oni System. He'd spent
wonderful month with them, and learned a lot.
For
example: there he was, alone on the beach, and he only had some tools and parts
in his backpack, and some trees nearby, and fleshling-acquired knowledge, and
voila, here he was now, in his very own jet-engined, trans-ocean vessel.
Ok,
so name it a boat. But it did have a small jet engine. He knew it would
come in handy...
Yes,
he'd learned a lot at Oni-Prime.
Sailing,
fishing, star-navigating, not collapsing in shock at people singing in public...
Yes, it did happen to him once... Hehehe. It scared them a lot, they
thought he had a fit or something...
Mmmm,
Oni-Prime...
And
Megatron chose that pleasant, wistful moment to scare him again. At least this
time there was a flicker of energy level, indicating fighting, before status
went
damaged,
off-line;
And
since there was nothing Rust could do to increase his speed, he just sat there,
in his homemade boat, singing even louder to drown out the feeling of dread. It
worked. When a few mega-cycles later his Megs-checker informed him that Predacon
leader was restored once more, he barely felt relieved, he was so relaxed. Or
maybe it was the effect of hyperventilation. Or just plain old weariness. He
didn't really care. He curled at the bottom of his vessel and slept.
Instinct
woke him up just in time to avoid the crash. He hauled the boat to the shore,
secured it and did his best to hide it (well, you never know, it could be
useful again someday!).
Then
he turned inland and checked coordinates.
He
grinned a wolfish grin.
"Here
I come!"
__________________________________________________________________________
*
PLF - Predacon Liberation Front
*
PSP Predacon Secret Police