Magnus jerked back to life as though some universal remote control paused him then pushed ‘play’ again. Upon examination, he found all the bridge crew moved in similar fashion. They checked their bodies, their positions, then each other.

Ambient automatically checked navigation, communication and the Mozart’s general status. She looked to Magnus. "Sir, we’ve landed."

"Landed?"

"On that asteroid, sir."

"On viewer," he ordered. He watched the screen come to life just as the rest of the ship’s power kicked in and all systems flickered to life. Ultra Magnus scrutinized the viewer, confused. "We didn’t even feel the ship land," he said to himself. "Ambient, crew status." He pointed at the viewer. "There! That’s the Dancing Siren. Patch me in if you can."

"Aye, sir."

"...read you, Sagittarius. This is ... Siren. Over."

"You’re not coming in clearly, Dancing Siren," Ambient struggled to realign frequencies. She shook her head two and three times before a high-frequency squeal forced Ambient out of her chair. She pressed the palms of her hands against her head and bowed over in pain. Before Magnus reacted, she returned to her station and rerouted her systems. "Dancing Siren, do you copy? This is the Mozart... slag it," she growled.

"Forget it, Ambient," Magnus turned to Pyrite. "Status?"

"Still scanning, Commander."

Magnus tried not to let impatience get the better of him. They sat there; a target, visible and vulnerable. "Ambient, is there anyone you can reach other than Prime?"

Ambient was about to report when Gryph’s voice broke through communications silence. "Magnus, I’m glad we’re not the only ones glued to the landing pad."

"Gryph, can you contact the other ships?"

"Got a hold of Razor Lady. Convoy said she tossed a probe to the wind and they’re waiting for word. We have that alien vessel in our line of sight."

Relief touched Ultra Magnus but he gave no external indication. "Have you seen anyone leave the ship?"

"Not yet," Gryph replied evenly. "I’m going to send Quickmix and Searchlight on recon. So, stand by, Mozart. Hannibal’s Mark out."

Magnus stared at the view screen. "Hate waiting," he muttered.

"Commander?" Pyrite called from his station. He waited for Magnus’ attention. "Sir, based on my calculations, I suspect we are held in an electromagnetic field. The tractor beam that pulled us in has no signature like I’ve seen before."

"Can you cancel the field, override or punch holes in it, Pyrite?"

"No sir. The best we can do is find the control center inside the complex and shut it down."

Magnus only nodded.

*

Trevor Tolomsky stood in front of Rusti. He bounced the ball between his hands and stared from her to the Autobot femme and back. "C’mon," he nodded toward the shuttle’s exit. "I got some cool things to show you."

It did not require genius IQ to see that Cloudstreaker neither saw nor heard the teenage boy standing before Rusti. She closed her eyes and purged her mind of all memories pertaining to Jax Tolomsky’s son.

Trevor smirked. "Yeah, like that’s gonna work. You can’t just eliminate illusions."

Rusti forced herself back to her feet, eyes resolute. "Lucky for both of us, I don’t think there’s any such thing as ghosts; only Quintesson science experiments."

"Ooh, how about that?" Trevor mocked. "You’re smarter than they give you credit for. So you think I’m a Quintesson experiment? Maybe, even, a failed one?"

Rusti glimpsed Cloudstreaker out the corner of her eyes. "That depends," she answered cautiously.

"On what?"

"If you can answer my questions."

"Do I look like the Smithsonian tour guide to you?" That earned him an evil eye. Trevor shrugged. "C’mon. I want to show you something cool."

"I’m not leaving the shuttle."

"Sooner or later you’ll have to. They’ll send drones to all the ships and dismantle them. So you might as well as come with me."

Rusti crossed her arms. "I’m going to wait until Optimus returns."

Trevor tossed the ball between his hands; back and forth, left to right. He studied Rusti before lifting one side of his face in a smile. "You mean Optimus Prime, right?" She did not answer him. "Yeah. You might consider rescuing him."

Rusti didn’t trust the image before her. Listening to him wasn’t a good idea, either. "What is croix insepency?"

"You know, Rusti, once the fly gets free of the web, it should not fly back to it. Not that it’s your fault-by you, I mean the Autobots. Your friends didn’t know."

"Croix insepency, Trevor." Rusti raised her voice and Cloudstreaker turned her gaze toward the girl. But the young woman did not notice.

Trevor’s smile turned icy. The ball stopped moving. "Ten little Autobots walking on the line

‘Just move on and leave it behind."

Rusti winced. "What?"

"Oh!" Trevor made a slow, single nod. "That’s right. All those memories are locked up somewhere in your head, aren’t they?" he leaned closer and whispered. "Are you afraid of dark places, shadows? How about falling from a great height?"

She had enough. Rusti grabbed the ball from him and threw it out the shuttle. "Go fetch."

Trevor mimicked surprise. "You don’t play by the rules, do you, Rusti?" he paused then added, "Ha.

"Two Autobot Primes dancing from the strings

don’t worry about them, they’ve already died."

Trevor nodded toward the plank. "You’d better find them before someone else does."

Rusti glared but kept her mouth shut. She waited for the image to disappear before joining Cloudstreaker at the front. Cloudy ignored her at first. The femme suddenly took offense to the dust particles on the navigation panel. Rusti sat against the closest wall panel.

"I know you heard me," she said quietly. "I know you think I was talking to myself or some invisible friend."

Cloudstreaker moved her lips but no voice came. She stared at the floor then cast her optic visor upon the view screen. "I think I know what happened to us," she said faintly. "The singularity on the Imperium is a seed. It was manufactured to open a wormhole."

Rusti batted her eyes, puzzled. "Is that technology possible? How can anyone create something that controls space-time like that? I mean, I know enough about physics to get myself into trouble, but manufacturing a wormhole is like cutting out a doorway in a wall with a circular saw."

"Yes." Cloudy’s gaze drifted in thought. "The Quintessons are a very advanced people. But even space-time cannot be manipulated in such a manner without dire consequences."

Rusti nodded. "I think Ambassador Koontah said something similar."

Cloudstreaker did not answer that. Three minutes passed before she settled her gaze on the young woman. "We cannot stay here long, if at all."

"Can you... contact the science station itself? I mean, maybe there’s someone here, or a computer or something that will get us off this rock."

"No." Cloudstreaker turned from Rusti back to the view screen. "The electromagnetic frequency signatures aren’t like anything I’ve encountered. I mean... whatever they used to generate power here is so... alternate that I can’t hold onto the rhythm."

Silence slipped between them until Rusti grew restless and impatient. She paced the shuttle then had enough. "Cloudstreaker," she called. "How long have they been gone?"

"Three hours, twenty-six minutes, thirty-four seconds."

Rusti’s blood ran cold. "And they’ve not called in?" Cloudstreaker only shook her head. "I’m going out."

"Very well." Cloudstreaker accepted. She flinched. "Wait, what? No, you can’t go-especially by yourself."

"Right," Rusti nodded. "Cuz I’m too little."

"No. Because Optimus and Rodimus will roast me alive." the femme hauled up an ion particle rifle, checked the payload, picked up an external communicator and strapped a sonic knife to her right leg. "Okay, now we can go."

*

Captain Jemel Helser groaned to life. Voices shrieked and bitched at her from all directions. The nauseating, biting stench of burnt circuitry filled the bridge while her officers lumped along the floor in the throws of unconsciousness. She pushed herself up and hissed when her right ankle popped back into its socket.

She wiped blood off the corner of her mouth and staggered to her chair. "Had enough of this roller coaster," she muttered. "Lockout? Sodius?" she coughed twice and punched a comm in her chair. "Perceptor, report." Helser waited and coughed again. "Okay, communications is going, nobody else is. Nice."

"Captain Helser, this is Rog Dirar, Lab 24-N. Do you read?"

Helser coughed again. "This is the bridge, Mr. Dirar, I hear you. Give me a status report..."

"The lab... all the Autobots are out for the count. I’ve lost two patients when we lost power. The stasis chambers are in danger of shut down and two of our suspended animation chambers are fluctuating. We’re losing oxygen."

Captain Helser coughed three times. She drew a breath and coughed five times more. Her breath did not come back. "This is the bridge," she pushed air through her voice, "I think we’re out of oxygen. I think..." her coughing turned into a fit until she convulsed and dropped to the floor.

*

From her place at the Mozart’s navigation, Ambient turned to Magnus. "Sir, I’m getting erratic readings from the Dancing Siren."

"Engine trouble?"

"No, sir, life support systems failure."

Magnus almost jumped from his chair. "Call Gryph and tell her to put together a rescue unit and meet me at the Dancing Siren. I want this ship on alert, medical ready to receive evacuees. Now!"

Pyrite stood, his expression urgent. "Sir! We don’t have near the facilities for the number of patients kept on the Siren. We don’t have any of the equipment most of them need-"

Magnus glared. "Then you’d better come up with an answer, Mister." Pyrite directed his gaze out the main viewer toward the science station. "No!" Magnus instantly objected.

"It might be a Quintesson installation, sir," the Autobot officer answered, "but it would have room and facilities necessary for the extreme cases on the Siren."

Magnus pointed at him, "you’d better get me more information before I make that decision, Mister. And I’d better have it before we have to move anyone."

"Sir-"

"Put together a small task force and recon, Pyrite, don’t waste time!" Magnus left the bridge before the irritating and inexperienced science officer mewed an objection.

Magnus chose three Autobots to accompany him to the outside unknown. They manually opened the starboard hatch and ventured out. The group paused before pressing on, their optics swept the surroundings with awe and trepidation. At the ship’s stern sat an immense building constructed of polished black walls and a large plaque written in a strange dialect. A huge runway stretched off the Mozart’s starboard. Its length yawned far past the ship’s bow and much further beyond Magnus’ optical range. Another impressive building rose off the Mozart’s port. Gigantic plates of transparent aluminum shielded the largest hydroponics complex anyone ever saw. The Sagittarian Mozart could easily fit inside it several times over.

"Where the Pitt are we?" Traverse whispered.

Magnus checked his weapons and comline for the fifth time. "Everyone stay tight," he ordered sternly. "The first person to break ranks will end up in medbay. Roadshow, you have the rear. Traverse, I want full scanner recon. Groove, you have cartography, life form scans and geology. Let’s move!"

They moved in a diamond formation and kept all scanners on alert. They treaded tough asteroid terrain until a solid, four-foot wall blocked them from the runway. They transformed and stepped over the boundary. Magnus hated the dead stillness, even as they passed the Confiscator. Traverse reported signs of activity inside the Confiscator and relayed coordinates to communications officer, Tieback.

The group pressed forward, however. Magnus assured his team Silverbolt had everything under control. They encountered the Crested Moon but did not stop to check on her crew, either. The Armored Crest, the Spiral Star and the Sunset Kummya all showed signs of life and internal activity.

As Magnus led his team west of the runway, Brainstorm, captain of the Spiral Star contacted him directly. "We have sixteen malfunctioning refrigeration units, Magnus," he reported. Eighty percent of our systems are down."

"How long before meltdown, Brainstorm?" Magnus transformed and stepped over another boarding wall. Approximately two football fields from him sat the Dancing Siren. She smoldered with an internal fire.

"My estimation ranges between twenty minutes and forty-five." Brainstorm paused and clicked on a pad, his fingers tapping hard over the comline. "We’re working to shut down all unnecessary equipment and functions, Ultra Magnus. But it’s not enough. It’ll give us ten minutes at the tops."

"Pyrite is pulling together a recon team. I suggest contacting him and sending someone with him. Magnus out." Upon reaching the Dancing Siren, Magnus and his team assessed the rough entry melted the main hatch and they’d have to carve it open.

Groove came up with a better idea; why cut, when a good explosion would be more enjoyable? He pasted his own homemade brand of putty along the seams and a demented grin gleamed in light of the explosion. He all but hopped from behind Magnus as the hatch door lowered on squeaky hinges.

Billows and puffy clouds of smoke huffed out the ship and gathered like clouds in the asteroid’s thin, freezing atmosphere. Autobots poured forth, coughing and rubbing their heads. Magnus aided the more blinded humans while Traverse, Roadshow and Groove charged in to aid the wounded and lost.

Fifteen minutes passed before all those who moved under their own power disembarked from the ship. Magnus ordered his team to dismount the infirm and double-check every room. He himself headed for the bridge.

***

Rusti led the way almost by default. They tip-toed across the hanger, covering such long distances that Cloudstreaker suggested flying. But the young lady with her only shot the femme a dirty look.

Rusti had no idea where they headed. She took one route that seemed right and stayed with it. Once they found an elevator, they took it two levels down. Rusti was a little surprised Cloudstreaker did not object to her erratic search patterns. But then, the Paratron femme did not know Optimus and Roddi the way Rusti did herself. Rusti peered into the dark silence through her exosuit’s scanners. A hall lined with doors stretched past scanning range. Cloudstreaker stepped around Rusti and examined the first two doors. Her footfalls toed so quietly, Rusti almost did not even hear the grind of her foot against the metal panels.

"I think these were quarters," the femme assessed. "I don’t see how-" her hand-held tricorder beeped and five little diodes flashed one after another. With a glance at Rusti, she followed her tricorder’s readings. Rusti hesitated to tag along. Wisps like a light morning fog ghosted across her line of sight. But her scanners read nothing of them.

Rusti slowly withdrew into herself, uncertain and leery. Standing in one place as Cloudy traveled further and further away, Rusti searched her own soul for some semblance of a backbone. Whatever she found, tucked away in a corner, came forward, undaunted and determined to find and gather her Autobots. Rusti blinked.

Pyrazhak That Chamronsyn. Pyrazhak That Chamronsyn.

She knew how to navigate, knew what to do. Rusti relented control to the entity who sought refuge within her. She still witnessed the world around her. She still felt her clothing and smelled the stale air through the exosuit’s filter. But the entity within her took control of her body movements; as if it were still her, but not really her. Rusti saw the world through another set of eyes.

Cloudy noticed she had not heard the young woman’s footsteps patter after her for quite a while. She turned, to make sure her companion still shadowed her direction. At first Rusti did not move. Cloudy could not determine if Rusti’s reluctance was due to fear or that the woman changed her mind about their course. But then Rusti moved, walking with a fluid motion she did not have earlier. Cloudstreaker tilted her head, puzzled. But she said nothing of it.

‘Rusti’ caught up with the femme and led the way. She turned right and led Cloudstreaker down a case of broad stairs before pausing in the middle and turned to Cloudy. "I do not want you to feel obligated to follow me, Cloudstreaker." the young lady’s voice came strong, confident.

Cloudstreaker paused with confusion. "Um... this has nothing to do with obligation, Rusti. Remember what I said? Optimus and Roddi will kick my aft if I left you by yourself."

‘Rusti’ lifted her eyes and searched the femme’s emotional patterns. "Yes," she affirmed. "I suppose they might."

Cloudstreaker followed down the stairs into a place even darker (if it were possible) than the living quarters. She kept her scanner on Rusti and they traveled ten minutes before her tricorder blipped, died and came back to life. Cloudstreaker paused. "Wait a minute. Something just happened." She checked the scanner then set it on self-diagnosis.

"It’s alright," the young lady assured. "You’re alright, Cloudstreaker. We need to keep moving." she pressed forward, heedless of (or ignoring) the femme’s growing suspicions. Cloudstreaker lost focus on Rusti as she tried to get her tricorder to reset. Before she knew it, her feet hit the bottom of the stairs and she staggered in surprise. A layer of liquid puddled around her feet. But Cloudy’s scanner showed nothing but metal. And no Rusti. She stood breathlessly still, searching for life signs, anything to indicate she was not alone.

"Rusti?" she called. "Rusti? Where are you, hon? Rusti?" Cloudstreaker strengthened her voice: "Rusti!" She turned round, seeking the stairs.

But they were no longer there.

"Rusti?" Cloudy’s voice came small with a tremble. Lost in darkness and liquid, the femme tried not to panic. She looked at her scanner, now bouncing crazy things at her in plain Autobot and hexadecimal. "Come on," she urged. "Give me a correct reading. I don’t want to be here by myself!"

Scant seconds churned into fearful minutes. Cloudstreaker wanted to move forward but feared she’d lose her way even more if she so much as moved half a foot. Stay calm. Stay calm. The scanner hasn’t finished self-diagnosis yet. Stay calm.

"Cloudy?"

She screamed. The young lady’s voice boomed in the dead silence around her.

"I’m so sorry!" Rusti said, "I thought you were behind me." A door opened from where she stood and a dim blue light filtered from another room.

"Yes..." Cloudy stammered. "I-uh, no. I-" she glanced back again but the stairs still weren’t there. She rushed ahead and followed Rusti through the huge seamless door. It shut silently and Cloudy leaned against it in relief.

"I am very sorry, Cloudstreaker," Rusti said quietly. "That will not happen again." she trailed right and forward, not waiting for the femme to catch a moment’s worth of orientation. Quickly tapping after the girl’s unusual pace, Cloudstreaker rechecked her scanner and found it working perfectly. She paused in her gait long enough to make sure she read it right.

All in order, as it should be. Cloudy tapped again to catch up.

Rusti led her out the darkness into a large room filled with tables and shallow pits in the floor. The ladies paused at the archway and Rusti searched the ceiling.

"Light, please," she said in Autobot.

Rusti’s ability to speak in Autobot came enough a shock to Cloudstreaker, but when the lights obeyed her, the femme flinched. "H-how did you... I mean... humans can’t speak-"

"I am Pyrt, Cloudstreaker. I am Pyrazhak That Chamronsyn. I am one chosen as the heart and guardian of your species." the entity residing in Rusti met Cloudstreaker’s optics with a set of blue eyes. "Do not fear me, my friend. Stay with me. Optimus and Rodimus are not far, now."

Cloudstreaker watched the young woman travel ahead, undaunted and unafraid. The femme decided to go along in spite of her personal uncertainty. She gathered more visual information on the room they currently occupied. Rows upon rows of tables filled the room one end to another. Shallow pits with drains surrounded each table. A huge black screen hung from the far right-side wall. To the left ran a long silver counter with heating lamps hovering above it. Long openings into an adjacent room revealed a huge kitchen. Cafeteria was the only thing that came to Cloudy’s mind. But why no benches or chairs? Why the pits?

The human woman passed out the room and Cloudstreaker dashed to keep her in visual range. Lights came to life several yards ahead as they passed one door after another. Corridors branched off left and right every fifth door until the ladies approached another grand archway.

Rusti lifted her eyes toward a ceiling high enough to house Omega Supreme. Balconies pocketed the room on three sides and from the ceiling hung giant glass orbs. An unknown liquid illuminated everything in a perfect, shadowless light. Before the ladies stood an array of computers, consoles, counters and chairs of all sizes and types-and again, pits and drains in the flooring.

A window taller than Ultra Magnus revealed the world outside; a place of rock, building and wind. Monitors of all sizes lined the wall on either side of the giant window. More familiar with computers, Cloudstreaker guessed this was the main communications station. She approached the console and took a cautious reading before claiming a chair just right of the window.

Rusti said nothing as her eyes counted the number of Autobot ships sitting along the tarmac. One ship, the Mozart, took up space in front of a glass building. The Razor Lady sat directly in front of the building. The Hannibal’s Mark sat some hundred yards away and the Vertical Horizon sat further than that.

"Got it!" Cloudstreaker declared triumphantly. She flipped on several switches and all the screens and boards lit to life.

"Cloudstreaker," Rusti said more in her own voice, "You need to activate the doors and rooms to medical."

Cloudstreaker looked at the girl in astonishment. "Young lady," she said rather than ‘little girl’, "I just now figured out communications. I am not-"

"Then help me up," Rusti answered calmly. "Let me help."

Cloudstreaker wasn’t about to argue. She helped the woman to the consol and concentrated on frequency dial-in.

Rather than waiting for assistance, Rusti searched one computer console after another, hoping to hear some voice in her head indicate which button to press or command to type.

"Hey!" Trevor’ form appeared two consoles away. Rusti gave him an evil eye. "I see you found central command."

The young lady glanced over her shoulder toward Cloudstreaker and kept her voice as low as possible. "You shouldn’t be here when other people are here. They’ll think I’ve lost my head!"

Trevor rolled his eyes. "If you can’t say it out loud, then for crying out loud, Rusti, think it."

She glared. "Looking for access to Science and Medical."

Trevor nodded at a series of switches. "That one," he pointed to a toggle with a strange squiggle under it.

Rusti pushed it like a lever and a broad panel opened, revealing a keypad with a total of nine burnished silver buttons. She huffed. "The universe does not come with an English translation."

"They’re just numbers, Rusti. Like a telephone."

"What’s the combination?"

Trevor smiled, pleased.

****

Pyrite huffed when Kup pulled rank on him and led the recon mission. Springer and Pointblank led the party along the landing strip, passing the Confiscator and the Vertical Horizon. The Hannibal’s Mark lowered her main ramp. Ion and Searchlight scanned the area and reported their geologic survey to the Mozart, the Covenant and the Gabriel Genesis. Kup, Crosshairs and Pyrite hugged the outer edges of their team while Springer and Pointblank worked on accessing the science and medical building.

Twenty minutes and still nothing. Kup’s patience ran dry and he contacted the Interrogator. "D’ ya think you can spare Wavelength long enough t’ come out here and give this bootleg-busting, aft-kicking piece of crap open?"

Before Spectrum answered, the huge bay door boomed and slid apart. A gigantic, thick-plated blast shield slid down and welcomed the Autobots into darkness. Springer drew his sword and stepped in first. Pointblank and Kup followed, their Targetmaster companions walked alongside them wary and silent. Crosshairs remained at the entrance. Pyrite followed Pointblank and at his fourth step, the lights shot on. Machines whirred to life. Scanners beeped. Computers and monitors activated and stood at the ready.

Springer shivered. "What the bright side of the Pitt is going on here?"

"Stay sharp, everybody," Kup ordered. "Crosshairs, notify the ship captains-especially Ultra Magnus. Let them know we’re taking a twenty-minute sweep."

A flash caught Springer’s attention as Crosshairs answered Kup and called each ship out loud. The Triplechanger swung to the left. But the only thing that greeted him was a giant scanning machine; presumably a CAT scan or MRI. A monitor above it flickered with static, waiting for use.

Pointblank’s voice sounded over their internal comlines: "We got patient beds! Lots of them!" Kup asked for specifics as Springer continued his sweep. He found an archway leading into another room filled with microscopes and other scanners of all types, shapes and sizes. A large data crystal sat in the slot of one computer panel. It flickered white, blue then yellow in repeated succession. Springer debated whether or not to touch it. The whole place set his nerves on edge. The place was so huge and so empty. Was this place abandoned? And if so, when and why?

"Springer!" Kup’s gravely voice snarled through the comline, "what’s your report?"

"Uh, all clear, Kup. Just scanning equipment here. No bodies ‘cept me."

"You get that, Magnus?" Kup asked along the ship-wide comline frequency. The answer did not come to Springer but Kup came back: "Alright, boys, shift into gear. Magnus is coming in hot with people from the Dancing Siren!"

****

From the command center’s communications room, Cloudstreaker and Rusti watched as Magnus and Kup orchestrated rescue from the Dancing Siren to the station’s science and medical. Cloudstreaker downloaded data she gathered about the station itself. She stared at her companionable tricorder with a haunted expression.

"We haven’t found Optimus, Rodimus or Galvatron," she said quietly.

Rusti continued to stare out the window. "That’s my job," she answered simply. She waited while Cloudstreaker gathered a little more data.

The femme stepped out her chair and rechecked her weapon. "I know the way from here to medical," she announced. "Are you coming?" Rusti’s smile was all the answer she needed.

Leaving the command center’s communications, the ladies ventured along three corridors before encountering a walkway stretching from their building to science and medical. The walkway, constructed of glass and metal, gave them a better view of the Razor Lady to their right, the huge science and medical building before them and to the left, a dim rocky landscape where the asteroid dipped into a canyon. Rusti did not want to consider what might lay at the bottom. If this place was a Quintesson complex, chances were high they’d only find bones down there.

Cloudstreaker and Rusti entered science and medical via a large carpeted lobby complete with potted alien plants, lush carpet, gigantic, fifteen foot paintings and a beverage bar.

A bright light flickered in front of Cloudstreaker. She gasped, flinched and stepped back as the static image of a Quintesson appeared, refined itself and shifted from its Face of Death to the Face of Deceit.

"Greetings, visitors. We welcome you to our new, fully-equipped space lab. For your convenience, we have installed a series of visitor’s quarters and added many creature-comforts we hope will be to your liking as you tour our facility. We are confident that you will find something here you’d either like to invest in or purchase right from the hands of our friendly and courteous staff. If you have further questions, do not hesitate to ask. We look forward to serving you."

A second holographic figure phased from the left; a three-faced Quintesson indicated a doorway behind. "Here you may step into our highly advanced science and medical facility. Complete with five levels our medical and science is Divinity at work. Practically nothing is impossible. Everything from medical miracles to psychic slaves tailored to your specific needs can be met here on Bare Anches..." the hologram fizzed, snapped out then back in. It disappeared again and the figure, now mutilated, shrieked in agony before a hulking shadow stepped in front and hacked its head in two.

"OHMIGOD!" Rusti flinched and covered her mouth in horror. "What the hell was that thing?"

Cloudstreaker calmly scanned the room then shook her head. "Nothing. It’s only a recording."

The young woman stared at her with wide, fearful eyes. She hesitated before deciding moving forward was a good choice.

Like traveling along a dark road toward the unknown, Cloudstreaker and Rusti waded through the unlit corridor. The only light emanated from Cloudy’s visor and her tricorder. The femme spared a glance on her scanner every third step just to make double certain her human companion had not disappeared on her.

A set of heavy blast doors clanged apart, sliding in half; part into the floor, the other into the ceiling above. Rusti winced at the intense light showering science and medical from light strips in the walls and spherical globules dangling from the ceiling. A calamity of bodies, voices and urgent shouts met them. First Aid came into view as he and a team of Autobots dragged Snarl’s prone form into a room just down the path. Rusti hugged the doorway entrance while Cloudy pressed through the growing crowd, apologizing and excusing herself between people and equipment. Stretchers waited along the hallway from Rusti’s right. Upon them lay the deceased; Autobots and organics alike.

"Don’t let them get too cozy here," Trevor said from nowhere. "The station doesn’t like the dead."

Rusti turned round, intending to leave the chaos to those better suited to handling things. She needed to find Optimus and Rodimus.

"What a good idea!" Trevor praised. "But you know, you shouldn’t go anywhere around here by yourself."

"Will you stop telling me what to do?"

He shrugged with a lip protrusion. "I like you. That’s why I have to harass you."

She almost didn’t catch it. One third of those inside science and medical saw it too. Everyone else merely acknowledged a light fluctuation. Rusti’s heart stopped and she panted for air. "What was that?" she really wasn’t asking Trevor.

"Yes," he replied evenly. "It happens often. The ghosts. They’re vindictive."

Rusti shuddered. "There’s no such thing as ghosts," she snarled, "only Quintesson science experiments. Now are you going to help me find Optimus and Roddi or do I get to do this by myself?"

Trevor sucked his lower teeth. "You’d never be found if you went by yourself. I guess I’ll come with you."

Her eyes fixed on him. His nonchalant attitude aroused her suspicions. Rusti pushed her lips upward in an uncharacteristic tell-tale. "You’re right," she agreed. "It’d be stupid to fly off minus a companion. And before you object, I want you to get that you’re either a figment or a ghost and either way, if I got into trouble, you’d more than likely either laugh at me, stand there and repeat ‘I told you so’ or ask me how I can get myself into such predicaments." Rusti walked off and left Trevor bewildered.

"Wait!" he called out. "Where are you going?"

She spun about, walking backward. "To get a dog... a really big dog." Rusti ignored her new-found invisible friend as she braided and wound her way through the traffic of Autobots, rushing humans and panicking aliens. Science and medical welcomed her with sights and sounds of the wounded, infirm and critically injured. She heard someone mention Grimlock’s destabilizing condition and received orders to take him elsewhere in the building.

Some poor mother wailed in grief when her child flat lined. Someone else screamed in madness and Rusti paused, listening closely.

"Get him strapped down! Sunstreaker! You’ve GOT to CALM DOWN! Sunstreaker!"

Rusti choked up. Was this all they were destined for: months and months of nothing but death and insanity? She wanted to cover her ears, but her helmet interfered. Besides, the exosuit’s scanners compensated for such notions.

Rusti drew a deep breath and set her determination forward. Someone she dearly loved was not with her. Slipping around the throng of people large and small, the young lady found her way to the building entrance and encountered Ambient.

"Excuse me," she called. The femme politely knelt on one knee and offered a smile. Rusti waited until Doublecross thundered past them. "I’m sorry...I was wondering if Steeljaw was available. I need to find Optimus and Galvatron."

It took a moment for Ambient to process the request. She set a hand against her left audio. "I got that, Sir," she said over the internal comline. "Yes, she’s right here, as a matter of fact." the communications officer produced a small datapad and tapped into it. "Aye, sir." She met Rusti’s tired expression. "You need to report to the Mozart, hon."

"I need to find Optimus and Roddi. And I would like Steeljaw to come with me."

Ambient rolled her head side to side with weariness. "Rusti-"

"I am not twelve years old, Ambient. I can more or less take care of myself. And as long as I can take Steeljaw with me, it’ll get you off the hook."

The femme held her hands out offensively. "Fine. All right." she bowed over the small pad and her thumbs raced over it."

"Oh," Rusti added in a more sheepish tone, "um, I don’t suppose there might be a protein bar and water or something like them lying around is there?"

****

First Aid rushed alongside the first five medical aids as they raced to get Grimlock from the Dancing Siren into a working stasis chamber in the space station’s medical and science lab. Copper flew in glider mode and circled the three-acre room until he found exactly what the robo-doctor ordered. They tanked Grimlock promptly and waited for life scanners to start up.

"Primus fragging damnit!" Apogee swore, "Our equipment isn’t compatible!!"

"MANUAL OPERATION!" First Aid uncharacteristically shouted.

"FIRST AID!" Timber called over the comline, "Sunstreaker! He’s flat lined and we have a gaspurn leak!"

"Start him on a transfusion!" First Aid shouted back. Perceptor almost ran into him. The Autobot scientist set a heavy crate next to the stasis unit and he and Apogee did what they could to set up manual control. First Aid raced two stalls down as Timber and Perigee laid Sunstreaker’s ‘tinker toy’ form on the flat. They inserted fluid lines the moment an aid brought them in. First Aid scanned Sunstreaker. "How many minutes, now?"

"Seven," Perigee replied.

"First Aid!" Jacket called, "where did you want them to put Snarl?"

"First Aid! We have seven more incoming! Where do you want them?"

The medic pointed to the stall across the way for Snarl and another stall several yards left of Sunstreaker. Six other people contacted him via internal comlines-including Magnus. Sunstreaker’s vitals stayed flat.

And he heard Captain Jamel Helser of the Dancing Siren was found dead.

And then the stasis chamber they found for Snarl shattered and flooded the floor with freezing, vital fluids and Perigee attempted to bring Sunstreaker to life one more time...

Magnus fared no better.

"Sir, what should we do with Miss Helser?"

"That’s Captain Helser, Sodius-"

"Aye, Sir, but what do we do with her?"

Quasar called over the comline: "Ultra Magnus! The Spiral Star is leaking liquid oxygen under Level Four..."

Magnus tried to get Strike Back’s attention for the second time: "I want you to report, NOW, Mister!"

"I’m BUSY, MAGNUS!"

Quasar wasn’t finished: "...we have broken subdural shock absorbers along the starboard and aft..."

Kup offered a better report: "According to Freefall, the Dancing Siren can be repaired in four hours. But the stasis units and refrigeration are offline..."

Quasar came back two seconds later: "...we have structural damage to the bridge and damaged life support systems..."

Blaster added the ten-weight on top of it all: "all the fleet’s internal temp control systems ‘r frozen ‘nd outta sync with ships’ computers. It’ll take sixteen hours to realign them."

Ambient called: "Ultra Magnus, we have a problem: Rusti has taken off. But St-"

An insentient shriek shot the air and cut through all immediate conversation. Magnus dropped all comlines and ran into the building.

First Aid stared at Sunstreaker’s readouts while Doublecross struggled to hold Sideswipe back long enough to give him room. But the medic did nothing. "Shut the machines off," First Aid ordered miserably. "Shut them all off. He’s gone."

"Nnooo!" Sideswipe cried. "You afthole, First Aid!" He squirmed in Crossy’s strong arms. "You bring him back! You bring back my brother! You hear me?"

First Aid nodded at Doublecross and she released Sideswipe as Perigee removed equipment from Sideswipe’s twin brother. The medic morosely penned a signature to a nearby datatablet while someone else shouted they needed help with Snarl.

"BRING HIM BACK!" Sideswipe repeated. "God dammit!! You put those things back on him! You bring him back!" His shouting dissolved into a sob. "WHAT THE PITT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!? HE’S NOT DEAD! HE’S NOT DEAD!" Sideswipe punched Sunny’s chest as he wept. "Not dead!"

As if reality heard Sideswipe’s plaintive weeping, Sunny’s body shot straight up, optics dark with bleeding fluids. His face lifted toward the ceiling. No word of correct spelling adequately described the wail uttered from Sunstreaker’s vocalizer. Most people-Humans, aliens and Autobots all-covered their ears. The song of the tormented ripped across the huge room like a sonic cloak. It frayed nerves and brought the weak of spirit to tears.

The room and its occupants did not breathe. Time moved inch by inch as Magnus raced for the stall. He knew that sound. He knew its implications. He pushed everyone aside while his laser core vibrated hard with panic.

Sideswipe did not know better. A miracle came to him. He fanned his arms wide and enveloped his resuscitated brother. He held Sunny close for three seconds; pure relief. Pure joy.

A knife sank into Sideswipe’s left shoulder and tore into his armor. His plating ripped to the elbow. Sunny shoved him against the wall and leapt off the table like a feral cat.

Magnus hurdled over a group of Humans and landed hard before dodging Sunstreaker’s bladed digits. Without a second thought, the Major-general produced his weapon and set it for stun.

Sideswipe cried out and scrambled to his feet. "No! No! Don’t shoot! He’s alive! Sunny!!"

"Sideswipe! That’s not-" Magnus did not get to finish his sentence. The thing that Sunstreaker became targeted Sideswipe the moment the twin made a noise. Sideswipe ran toward his brother. A jolting kick to the torso sent Sideswipe flying. He crashed into a dividing wall and moaned. Determination gave him the strength to get back up while Sunny’s makeshift form ambled toward him. Its movements jerked and pushed the patch-up robotic in ways not intended for use. The faceplate, dented and wet with dark fluids, split apart by an unnatural means.

First Aid produced a dart gun he used only on the Dinobots. Magnus’ finger hesitated on the trigger of his rifle. He glanced at the medic then at the twins as Sunny closed in on Sideswipe.

"First Aid?" Magnus didn’t know what else to ask.

He didn’t need to. The medic aimed. "If this doesn’t work, Magnus, you’ll have to shoot."

Sunny slammed his whole body against his brother and pinned him against the closest wall; too close to shoot. "Aren’t you afraid yet, Little Brother?" he asked with a double voice. "I hear your anger, I smell desire for things outside Darkness. The Void will find your mind and drill holes in your spark!"

Sideswipe shouted half in anger, half in grief. "GET OUT OF MY BROTHER, YOU FRAGGING CLOT!" with all his might, Sideswipe shoved the possessed Autobot off and swung a fist. But Sunstreaker caught it with one hand and landed the other round Sideswipe’s neck. He tripped Swipes to the floor, released his brother’s fist and pinned Sideswipe with unusual strength. Sunny raised his free hand and paused long enough for the ‘tinker-toy’ digits to reshape themselves into long deadly blades.

Sideswipe struggled to remove Sunny’s hand from round his neck. At the last second, he shoved a knee into Sunstreaker’s middle and cast him into the air. First Aid made his shot and missed by the sound of a whisper. The tranquilizer hit Umber instead and knocked him cold.

Sunstreaker used the half-second distraction to plant a foot against Sideswipe’s chin and sent the warrior crashing along the floor. Sunny followed, landed hard on his brother and with another shriek, tore at Sideswipe’s body. Sideswipe shoved to the side and the two locked in a deadly wrestling match. Fluids spilt all over the floor and a few seconds later, bits and pieces of Sideswipe’s armor flaked off.

Magnus took a chance and kicked up the stun setting by two notches. He fired a wide range with a silent apology to all those Autobots and Humans who stood within that range. Sunstreaker jerked as though shot with electricity. He hissed then collapsed.

Blaster interrupted the moment when he contacted Magnus via internal comline: "Heya, Mags! Strike Back is yelling to talk at ya, Man."

"Is this an emergency, Blaster?"

"Not now, Blaster." Magnus grunted

"Not kiddin’, Dude," the communications officer insisted. "He just about ripped me a new one."

Turning from the scene, Magnus retreated to the outside world. "Blaster, what part of ‘not now’ don’t you get?" Before Blaster offered a flimsy reply, Magnus spotted the Sabor’s Claw’s punk captain stomping toward him. Magnus set his mood from frustrated to irritable. He welcomed no confrontation with Strike Back. But a confrontation with a grouchy, juvenile Strike Back only made the Major-general itch to punch someone. And with both Primes missing, chances were high that he and Fort Zenith’s former city commander were going to butt heads.

"Magnus!" Strike Back snarled. "I’ve been trying to contact you for twenty minutes!"

"Oh, I’m sorry, Strike Back," the Major-general sneered with sarcasm. "I didn’t have anything better to do than to ignore you."

Strike Back ignored his attitude: "I need a life support tech. Lyric is not answering her hail and that means I need another communications officer. I need that girl to come and diagnose my ship so I can find out why the Claw’s backup dampeners are offline. And where the Pitt are Op-"

"You know what? Shut up!" Magnus’ optics flared. "You are not the only person up to his aft with problems. Take a number and get in line. More than that, I want you to assign six people for reconnaissance."

"What?! No."

Magnus fell deadly quiet. "What did you just say?"

Strike Back punched a finger against Magnus’ chest plate. "I said NO! Just because you’re bigger, badder and uglier than the rest of us gives you no greater privileges for bossing everyone else around than me! I’m a city commander, too... Commander. But unlike Brainstorm, Silverbolt, Kup or Gryph, I’m not afraid to stand up to you and your bullying temper! You’re not in charge, Magnus unless someone else says you’re in charge and I did not say you were in charge!"

Ambient approached and both mechs dropped their argument. "Sir," she said to Magnus. "I tried to tell you earlier that Rusti Witwicky has taken off on her own to find Rodimus and Optimus Prime and that Steeljaw went with her."

Magnus reigned in his anger long enough to answer her with a leveled voice. "Thank you, Ambient. And if you please, I need reports from the Covenant."

"Aye, sir."

They waited until she left before Magnus fixed a burning glare at Strike Back. "This isn’t finished." he growled. With that, he stomped off, paused five steps away and half-turned. "Oh, and Strike Back, find your own fucking tech support!"