8.April.06
By: Sinead
~< Part Four >~
Her
mother’s literal killer was Protoform ‘X’, as she expected. ‘X’
did do the dirty job, but now she knew who released him. Who the
mastermind behind the catastrophe was.
The
bots in the room, who had gathered around her shoulders to watch what she was
doing, all uttered various curses in Cybertronian but Awn’néad ignored them.
She wasn’t supposed to know this information until she was older. But all that
she could do was stare at the name on the screen with horror.
The
readout was as follows:
Crime:
Forgery and Release of Dangerous Prisoner
Location:
Cybertronian Defense Moon III Tau; Base Omicron; time classified
Location
Captured: Defense Moon II Xaverimus; Base Rugby, time classified
Sentence:
Prison-bound for life, no parole
Name:
Megatron
Notes:
Escaped, is at large. Wanted dead or alive: Reward 175 platinum credits
(approx. 10.5 million Human Standard Credits [dollars])
Awn’néad
stared at that name with a hatred and hurt that could only be matched by what
the Autobot Optimus Prime must’ve felt toward the Deceptacon Megatron.
You
see, Base Nucleotron was where Protoform ‘X’ was originally held as a
prisoner. And Megatron originally was hired there to work as a security guard.
When ‘X’ was transferred to Omicron for medical testing, Megatron must have
gone with the ‘superwarrior.’ He must have been able to come in almost
direct contact with Protoform ‘X’ and thus set him free . . . somehow.
“That
. . . that . . . ” Here, Awn’néad uttered a few oaths under her breath in
English. None of the bots reprimanded her, knowing that she would never repeat
them unless it was under dire circumstances.
“I
don’t even want to know where you learned them,” Optimus said.
Awn’néad
just kept glaring at the name on the screen. After a while, though, she looked
at Steele and said to him, “Thank you for not letting Cyclone see, or hear,
any of this.”
Steele
nodded, put his hand on her shoulder and said, “He is still a child and cannot
handle some of the more . . . obscure things in life, if you will. You,
on the other hand, are more psychologically developed. Nh . . . mature.”
Awn’néad
sighed, prioritizing things in a simple way in her mind. “I can’t deal with
this right now. I’ve got that thing this weekend and I still need to get
something a bit more formal to wear. Primus knows I couldn’t wear jeans to
that ceremony. I’d never hear the end of it from the media. But I
don’t want to over-do it.”
“What
thing this weekend?” Steele asked, looking her in the eye.
“I’m
announcing the duels for the B.S.C. Championship.”
Steele
looked more than a little embarrassed. His optics widened, and his
normally-royal-blue cheeks were almost navy. He looked away, wincing slightly.
“Then I guess that I’ll be seeing you there.”
“Huh?”
Steele
looked back at Awn’néad. “I have been asked to participate in it.”
“You’re
kidding me,” Electra said, face pale and shocked. “You? In the B.S.C.? I
never thought that a bot like you would actually try to scrap other bots!”
Steele
didn’t know what to say. But Awn’néad did. “Everyone has their secrets,
Electra. You know that,” she said, leaning her head in her hand. She kept her
eyes on Electra and smiled gently.
“Yeah,
yeah, I know. Man, I need sleep. Could I?” Electra said irritably, not looking
at anyone in the room. She knew all too well about keeping secrets. There was
someone other than Awn’néad in the room who didn’t need to hear a few
things about her . . . and her past. More so than the rest.
“Sure,”
Optimus said, and opened the door for her. Electra yawned, waved a goodnight,
and left the lab.
As
soon as Optimus was sure that she was out of earshot, he turned to Steele, and
asked, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I
couldn’t. I would’ve been branded as a dangerous criminal, especially by her.
You wouldn’t have trusted me.” He paused, and added quietly, “Besides. You
expect me to just forget the vows I had taken?”
Optimus
was silent for a while, then said, “Awn’néad will still go to the
Championship. If any trouble starts up, I expect you, Storm, and Cyclone to
protect her. You telling us that you are in the B.S.C. doesn’t waver my trust
in you for a second. Quite on the contrary–”
A
loud pounding on the door interrupted him.
Stormblend
pulled a rotary gun out of sub-space, Steele pulled a sword out, and Optimus
pulled a scimitar, rarely-used projctile weaponry on his left forearm coming to
life with a hum. Awn’néad was motioned to hide behind the desk. Steele
crouched beside her while Optimus and Stormblend took up positions on either
side of the door. There was a fierce scowl set upon Steele’s face as he
counted all the ways that a bot could attack within the second of a door opening
suddenly. Before very long at all, he knew that Awn’néad was watching him,
seeing the true fighter that lay beneath his sometimes-playful character; the
person he was when it was just the two of them on the rare occasion when nobody
else was around. As he looked down at her his scowl melted like sugar dissolves
in hot water. His free hand rested on her shoulder, and, for the first time
since they met, Steele genuinely smiled, as if to say that everything would be
all right. The pounding on the door persisted.
The
moment that Stormblend opened the door a crack, a creature flung it open all the
way, causing Steele to stiffen slightly, returning his full attention to the
door.
A
human was standing there, wrapped in a cloak, her beach-blonde hair unkempt, her
usually electric blue eyes dark with grief. It was Raynah.
Awn’néad
leaped out from behind the desk and embraced her friend, who had started
sobbing. The Guardians put their weapons away and Raynah held Awn’néad’s
arms in a vicelike grip. Awn’néad
looked at Stormblend. “Go get Electra.”
Stormblend
nodded and immediately left, leaving the door open. Awn’néad managed to pry
her friend’s hands off her arms and looked directly into her face. “What’s
wrong?”
Raynah
looked into Awn’néad’s eyes and it was suddenly clear to her.
“Oh,
no. No. Oh, Ray,” Awn’néad said, and pulled her friend into another hug.
Electra came in, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Her mouth snapped shut when she
saw Raynah.
One
hour, and three cups of tea, later, Raynah had calmed down enough to talk a
little.
And
Awn’néad was right.
It
was Kristine, Raynah’s mother, who was nearly murdered by the unknown bots. .
.
~*~
The
next morning, Cyclone woke up and knew that something was different. How?
Awn’néad was sleeping on a cot across from his bed.
“Unnnuh,”
Awn’néad groaned, opened her eyes a slit, and saw Cyclone looking at her
worriedly.
“What’s
going on?” he asked.
“How
about we avoid that question, if that’s okay with
you. One slaggin’ long night.”
Awn’néad
sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes when Steele walked in. Cyclone sighed
in exasperation. “Oh, sure. Walk right in! Knock sometime, why don’t you? In
fact–”
Steele’s
scowl silenced him.
Awn’néad
yawned again, and said, “I’ll be right out.”
The
Predacon nodded, and left.
“Get
some more sleep, okay? For the both of us,” Awn’néad said while folding up
her cot, draping her blankets over her shoulder, and walking out of Cyclone’s
quarters, still yawning.
“Sleep
well?” Steele asked when she joined him. Awn’néad still wasn’t sure
wether he was asking truthfully or
was just being plain sarcastic as she entered her quarters five minutes later,
readying the shower. When Awn’néad had changed and eaten breakfast, she and
Steele met Stormblend, Optimus, Electra, and a unfamiliar short bot in the
conference room. Stormblend introduced the short bot as Pyrofreeze, a friend
that he had met years upon years ago.
Pyrofreeze
stared at Steele with wide eyes, until Awn’néad said, “It’s okay, Steele
won’t bite. That is, unless you try to kick my butt, and that means that
you’d have him, Electra, Optimus, and me on you, if I can still
stand.”
“Uh,
yeah. Well, Storm just asked me ta come ’ere, and he thought dat I could help
with some problem or anoduh. An’ with dat freako around, huh, man, now I know
why.” He didn’t mention that just upon sight, he knew who this bot’s
father was. Or that he had known Stormblend since he had been younger than
Awn’néad, when Sinead had still been alive. Or that he had known
Sinead on a first-name basis.
Steele
was about to say something harsh, but Awn’néad sensed it coming and gave a
warning glare to him in order to keep him silent. Pyro looked away, hiding a
grin effectively. Spittin’ image of dem both, even down to their glares to
each other. Primus, it’s good to be back with family.
By
the end of the meeting, it was decided that Pyrofreeze would act as a plant,
making sure that nothing and nobody would sneak up on Awn’néad, Stormblend,
and Cyclone. Raynah would be taken on the shopping spree and would come to the
Championship. Optimus had spoken with the Maximal Elders so late at night that
it had been morning, and they knew that he was watching Raynah for the time
being. Once they knew this information they suggested that their meeting should
be canceled. Optimus agreed, and he would sit in the sidelines with Raynah if
she decided not to walk out and announce the duels alongside Awn’néad.
“I
don’t think that I got more than three hours of sleep last night,” Awn’néad
said, a dull look in her eyes. “It’s going to take a long while for Raynah
to recover. She might as well be around friends.”
“True,”
Electra said, nodding her head, trying not to look at Pyrofreeze. “And who
should be more fortunate to have Awn’néad as a friend?”
~*~
Five
hours later, Optimus, Electra and
Steele were talking, waiting for Raynah and Awn’néad to come out of the
changing rooms.
“I
told you that they’d take their time! But nooo, you men are too
thick to listen to me!” Electra said jokingly, arms crossed over her chest.
Steele
snorted and said in a teasing, snarling response, for once at ease with the
femme, “Impudent female. I knew she’d take a while to choose.
However. . .” He left the sentence hanging, sending the slightly-older
Guardian a dull look of impatience.
Optimus
laughed and replied, “At least you didn’t scrap Pyrofreeze. I’d hate to
try to protect you from Storm. He’d scrap the both of us!”
The
trio laughed, or smirked, and Raynah came out of the dressing room, smiling for
one of the first times since yesterday, before the accident. She was still
hurting, and it would take her months, if not years, to get over the death of
her mentor, but she needed the excursion to break her out of the melancholy mood
she had been slipping into.
“I
now present you with the daughter of Sinead and Ian, and the only one who can
control Steele with a mere glare, Awn’néad!” Raynah stepped out of
the doorway, and Awn’néad came swaggering out, wearing a pair of baggy,
free-flowing breeches, ending in bound cuffs around her calves, looking like a
version of Shaolin Monk pants. They were a deep emerald at the waist, with sea
green swirling upward from her knees like mist, shading smoothly to a pure white
towards her ankles. She wore a green tunic that matched the sea green of the
flames, and a Chinese-inspired jacket that matched the emerald green. The shoes
didn’t match yet, but strips of emerald cris-crossed from her feet up to her
knees, holding the pants close to her body.
“Woah,”
Electra said, looking the young human up and down. “I can just bet that the
set must be the most expensive in this whole store.”
“Actually,”
Raynah said, “It’s the lowest. And it isn’t even a set.”
“We
found the jacket in one area, and the pants and top in another,” Awn’néad
explained.
“Amazing,”
Electra breathed. “Absolutely amazing. Girl, that’s a true gift, and don’t
let anyone tell you otherwise! But what’s an outfit if you don’t have the
proper shoes to go with it?”
Awn’néad
looked to Raynah. “Ohmigosh, I almost forgot about the shoes. I know just the
pair, but I dunno where to get them.”
Optimus
shot Electra a glare. She smirked back.
“Opti,
we have to go find them!”
With a sigh, he gave her his best smile, replying, “So where do we start?” Primus, it’s gonna be another long day . . .