By Tom Zavier
CYBERTRONIAN PLANETARY ARCHIVES
FILE NUMBER:
47771-A6-219
OBJECT TYPE:
planet, class-4
LOCATION:
Cindras star system (2114-AF)
Coordinates: 47-46-08
Orbital Cycle: 7/1/1/99 + 1
Satellites: none
DISCOVERED T.I. 417922.61, expedition 7-B
Planet CINDRAS 2
type 41-G, parameters 2-7
approximate age: 73.56 g.v.
description: small uninhabited planetoid, still in early stages of geological
development. No useful mineral
or organic content known. Surface highly dangerous and unstable. Rated
unsuitable for Cyberforming. For
additional information, see CPA records 4567-4601, section 38.
The Autobot
shuttle shrieked through the dark, thick atmosphere, tearing long gaping
holes through the clouds of yellow sulfurous gases and the blackened smoke
and soot which clung to Cindras’ ever-shifting molten surface. Despite
Prowl’s best efforts, it was hopeless. The shuttle crashed--
Actually,
“crash” was not an accurate term. “Splat” was far more applicable--as the
weary spacecraft fell into a lake of viscous, purplish material--semi-solid
and bubbling hot. It’s frame shuddered at the impact... and then shattered,
collapsing upon itself.
A small
explosion--and a large part of the sunken roof was blasted away. Slightly
charred, scratched and dented, Arcee scrambled onto a flat portion of the
roof, followed by Sideswipe and Prowl, dragging a limp Inferno behind him.
They stood on the upper hull and assessed their desperate situation.
“We’re
sinking,” gasped Arcee, her voice harsh in the thick atmosphere.
Prowl
did not respond--he was examining Inferno, who was not moving.
Sideswipe
frowned as he scanned the horizon... “Solid ground--over there.” He pointed.
“But we’ll never make it on foot.”
Another
explosion--and another section of hull erupted from within. Climbing weakly
out came Hoist, Seaspray, Snarl, Sludge and--tentatively--Windsweeper.
As they did so, a third and final set of hull plates blew away--allowing
exit for Sandstorm, Skids, Perceptor, Breakdown, Blitzwing and Beachcomber,
carrying an inoperative Jazz.
Prowl
cursed under his breath. “He’s gone...” he turned away from Inferno’s now
lifeless body. “Who’s missing?”
“Sunstreaker,”
muttured Sideswipe quietly.
Seaspray
shook his head. “Deck six--falling bulkhead.”
Prowl
was grave. “We have to get off of here. Quickly.”
Windsweeper
recoiled--shifting uneasily. He could fly--so could Blitzwing. They
could get away...
Arcee
had the same thought. “We let you live--we could have executed you,
dumped you in space--help us now!”
Blitzwing
scowled. “I can’t carry all of you.”
“A couple
at a time...” It was Windsweeper who spoke. “We could do it. We
should
do it.”
“You’ve
gotten soft,” Blitzwing growled.
“There
isn’t much time!” Beachcomber cried. “Help us or don’t--we don’t have time
to fight over it!”
Blitzwing
and Windsweeper exchanged uncomfortable glances.
*
*
*
Jetfire’s
radio crackled to life: “I can’t get a reading through all that smog,
Sunny. We’ve lost them!”
High
above Cindras’ surface, Sunfire and Jetfire floated in the silent chill
of space--a harsh contrast to the fiery surface of the planet below and
the immense burning sun that was rather uncomfortably near.
“Then
we’ll have to go down and look for them, literally!” Sunfire was adamant.
“Smog or no smog--wait!”
“What
is it?”
“I
don’t know...hmm. I thought I got a metallic reading--way over there--edge
of range. But it disappeared.”
“A
glitch? Error?”
“Probably.”
She
didn’t believe it. “Let’s start our descent.”
He’d passed
the other ones by...they could be dealt with in due time. Now, it was important
to find out what had become of the fallen shuttle...and it’s passengers.
Invisible,
silent, undetectable--now that he’d activated his cloaking device--Midnight
shifted from hyperpod mode to his dragon mode, gracefully gliding toward
the treacherous surface. It was a sight--rough spires of crumbling stone
and crystal, encloaked by gas and smoke. Lakes and rivers of molten lava
or other bubbling matter flowed and collected in every nook and cranny...
a vile, hideous world, burning hot and near fatal to the touch.
He smiled.
His advanced sensory system had found the shuttle’s crash site.
They
wouldn’t even know what hit them.
*
*
*
“Look,”
Sandstorm spoke up. “I’ll carry as many of you as I can. We’ll still
make it if we start now. Let’s leave these ‘Cons to their own devices.”
Prowl
nodded. Sandstorm transformed slowly, having taken heavy damage; in his
helicopter mode, he opened his cargo doors--but he never got to say the
words ‘climb aboard’.
Like
a gust of deadly wind, Sandstorm screamed as his outer armor was torn from
his body in thick, rending strips. He leapt up, half-transforming, but
he didn’t finish, his whole body tearing itself apart in terrible spasms.
“Heavens
to Proxima!” Beachcomber dove to the deck, huddling in a trembling ball.
The other Autobots--and the Decepticons--immediately groped for available
weapons.
“What
was
that?” cried Sideswipe, optics wide.
“I didn’t
see anything!” Skids replied, turning to Seaspray. “Did you
see--”
Skids
fell forward, a spurt of oil and lubricant flying from the gash that now
separated his lower body from his upper torso. He cried out in agony--until
his shoulders were relieved of his head module.
Seaspray
however, kept his head. Concentrating, he scanned the area with
sonar waves--and got a reading: a sleek, shifting shape, swift and moving
rapidly back up above them, into the air, for another pass.
He pointed.
“There! Open fire! Quick!” He let loose with his shoulder cannons,
followed by shots from hand pistols and other energy weapons wielded by
his companions.
There
was a flash--energy splattering against an unseen object--and a cry, a
sudden, shrill, painful sound. That was all--
Both
Autobots and Decepticons continued firing--hitting only open sky. Perceptor
cried out--a short stifled cry, cut off as his already injured form was
roughly and messily shredded.
Everyone
took new aim--Seaspray trying to readjust his sonar--but laser fire suddenly
erupted from an unseen source and burned across Sideswipe’s shoulders,
sending him tumbling in a poor attempt to avoid the beams. Another set
of bolts struck Breakdown squarely in his chest, knocking him down...
He yelped,
under a sudden weight--the others stared in frozen horror as he struggled
against an invisible assailant, screaming and thrashing wildly as his body
was sliced and ripped apart, the pieces scattering violently through the
air, one after another...
And--virtually
simultaneously--everyone opened fire.
Lasers
struck against an unseen object--a sudden shriek tore through the air as--something--recoiled
and writhed under the barrage.
They
saw a flicker under the fire as a sleek, dark shape suddenly took form.
A black-armored, reptilian creature, with huge flaring wings and covered
in viciously-curved blades.
It growled,
coiling back. It’s two wing-mounted laser cannons opened fire as it leapt
up, taking flight once again.
It skillfully
dodged the following laser blasts, twisting and swooping in the air, still
firing back. It dived, strafing it’s opponents with unparalled virtuosity.
Rising
back into the air, Midnight laughed as the Autobots and Decepticons dove
for cover. Turning in the air, he coiled back--and a stream of blue flame
gushed from his jaws, sending his opponents scattering.
Stiff
and scorched, Arcee crawled over to Prowl--everyone kept low to avoid the
flames--and spoke heavily between breaths. “He’s playing with us! We don’t
have time for this!”
“No,
but what can we--look out!”
Midnight
had dived again, falling upon them in a burst of flame and fury. He tore
past Arcee--she was tossed aside with a single scream--and sank his fangs
into Prowl’s shoulder. The laser blasts that followed were too late--Prowl
had been lifted into the air, Midnight tearing into him...
Torn
practically limb-from-limb, Midnight released Prowl’s body and spewed forth
another cloud of blue-colored flame. Everyone hit the deck, cringing under
his high-pitched cackling.
“Well,
friends, what shall it be? Sliced, diced, roasted--or should I leave you
to boil in the bog? Be happy, I’m giving you the choice!” Midnight’s laughter
was cut short by two small missiles hitting him from behind. The explosion
sent him reeling...
Jetfire
and Sunfire had arrived.
Midnight
rose to the challenge, streaking up to meet them. Breathing fire upwards,
he burned Jetfire badly--who swerved to avoid another burst. Midnight then
turned to Sunfire.
‘Metallic
reading’, she thought. If only they had arrived here sooner...
Flames
leapt forth from Midnight’s jaws, toward Sunfire--and rippled harmlessly
off of her forcefield.
Midnight’s
shock wasn’t long lived. Sunfire, with her forcefield still at maximum
power, was diving on a collision course--and Midnight was too surprised
to avoid her.
The resultant
sound--solid energy crashing against carbonite steel at terminal velocity--was
painful to everyone’s audio receptors.
Dazed,
Sunfire steadied herself, turning to find her target.
Midnight,
however, was less fortunate. The extreme pain that screamed through every
atom of his body was more than enough to indicate that he had to land,
had to recover. That pitiful little Autobot had nearly succeeded in knocking
him unconscious... he could still finish them though... if he could get
away, hide, regenerate...
Sunfire
ignored the cheers from below. Yes, he was fleeing...but he’d probably
be back. She radioed Jetfire: “I’m going after it--whatever it is. Help
the others!”
“But,
Sunny!”
“Just
help them and quick! Someone’s gotta finish that thing off!” And she
rocketed off--only just realizing she’d lost sight of Midnight.
He had
disappeared.
She flew
on, in what she thought was the right direction...