Croix Insepency Chapter 3

CHASSE

The Gabriel Genesis squatted on the asteroid landing pad two miles off the science and medical facility. Steeljaw attentively paced before the ship, hour after hour. Officers, crew, young, old, Autobot and organic came and departed on business of one type or another. Half a day later, the Autobot cassette lion heard Rusti’s gait pattern. He reared like a puppy, excited to see a loved and familiar face.

Rusti kept as close to the roadways as possible and avoided any Autobots who might order her back to ‘safety’. Determined to find their missing leaders-and her charge, Rusti was not in the mindset for an argument.

Steeljaw lowered half his body so that his hindquarters stuck straight in the air and his tail wagged in greeting. Rusti grinned and petted the robotic lion.

"We’re going on a hunting trip," she announced. The golden creature sat before her with enthused expectation. "We’re going to find Optimus and Roddi. Well... I will. I just thought I’d ask if you’d come with me. You don’t have to. But... I’d feel safer if you did."

Rather than answering, the lion focused his optics on an approaching figure. Rusti’s scanners picked her up, too. With gutsy attitude in place, she faced the Paratronian femme, Delta. Rusti vaguely recalled seeing Delta on occasion. As one of Magnus’ top officers, the femme attended meetings with Optimus when Magnus could not be present. And although Rusti never actually watched Delta transform, the femme clearly displayed the characteristics of an automobile. Just like Cloudstreaker, Delta’s optic sensors came in the form of a single visor. Unlike Cloudstreaker’s soft and shapely face, Delta’s angular lips and jaw line entitled her a grim motif.

Delta smiled patronizingly. "Hello, Dear," she greeted cordially. "A little dangerous to be out this far by yourself."

"You’re out here by yourself," Rusti weakly returned.

"No doubt," Delta purred. "But compared to you, I’m the size of a house."

Rusti slowly and deeply nodded then shrugged. "Yeah. Well, size doesn’t equal wit." She watched the conflict rage on Delta’s lips. The femme didn’t take the remark too well.

But then the femme forced a light laugh. "Aren’t you adorable? How about you and the kitty accompany me back to the Sabor’s Claw where it’s considerably safer?"

Rusti stared her down and took a slight step closer to Steeljaw. "Is that an order?" she asked carefully.

Delta broke into a smile so fake it turned Rusti’s stomach. "Of course not! Just a suggestion among friends. I mean nothing by it, Darling."

Rusti nodded again. "Okay. Well, thank you for the offer. Steeljaw and I will head..." Rusti nodded toward science and medical "... that way. Get back with you later? Maybe?"

Delta’s expression turned a little more sincere, if but forgiving and permissive. "Sure."

Rusti led the cassette lion around Delta. She tried not to look too obvious and evaded further eye contact. Rusti maintained caution and spoke to Steeljaw on a private comline. "High school rule Number Five, Steeljaw: Beware of people who eagerly want to do you a favor and go out of their way to do so."

The lion paused for a glance behind them even as Rusti continued walking. She did not ask what he sought; Steeljaw always watched her back. Kitty caught up and gently nudged her arm; all clear.

They passed the Dancing Siren as crews labored to repair the ship’s life support systems. Returning to the runway, they pushed beyond the Sunset Kummya, the Spiral Star. They also rounded the Armored Crest and the Covenant. Rusti and Steeljaw passed several groups of Autobots and EDC officers as they organized themselves into reconnaissance groups of three.

Jazz read from a digipad and called for names: "Seaside, Chalk Talk, Quadrus and Polar. Y’all been assigned t’ central command. Halex, Drox an’ Lockout, you got th’ hydroponics building..."

Rusti and Steeljaw slipped by unnoticed as Neon and Brine exchanged notes on their digipads. Jazz called their names and added Trixy’s. He assigned them to the search and secure of provisions.

Steeljaw instinctively knew what was necessary to search for Optimus and Rodimus. Rusti did not always have to spell things out for the robotic lion. Which was why he took charge and led the young woman to the left of the building entrance. They migrated along a narrow corridor dividing the main room from the emergency diagnostics and bypassed emergency surgery where Rusti overheard someone mentioning Snarl’s name.

Steeljaw nosed their way past a dark cafeteria and found a dimly-lit vestibule. Three stainless steel elevator doors waited for visitors. Rusti studied them, uncertain. Quintesson writ embossed all plates and signs on Bare Anches. She pursed her lips. "Doesn’t seem the Quints bothered with the Autobot language, does it, Steel? I mean, the communications I saw and heard came in..." Rusti narrowed her eyes and tilted her head left. "Wait a minute. I heard what they said, but it was... English. How the hell could that be possible? And what’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I consider that before?" she paused, annoyed with herself. "Losing it. Alright. Well, from what I could tell, this is the top floor. Cloudstreaker and I came through the lobby. And since there’s elevators here, that means there’s another level. So, theoretically, there’s a conjunction from the next level down to the command center, too. So, we’ll give it a shot. Hit the second button over from the top... and let’s hope the Quintessons don’t set their numbers backwards."

The lion complied, punching the button with his nose. The doors silently opened and a soft red light welcomed them inside. Rusti stepped in first and stood close to Steeljaw as the door slid shut. The elevator smoothly descended. Rusti briefly wondered why the base lacked people. If this was a science station, where were the doctors and scientists?

The elevator softly landed and the doors silently opened. Steeljaw stepped out first, nosing his way out the vestibule, tail snaking back and forth. Rusti followed and they stepped into a world of darkness. Her scanners picked up a long corridor leading one direction left, the other direction right.

Steeljaw quietly snarled and chose the path right. Silence clung to them, disquieting and eerie. Rusti imagined she heard the walls listening to their every footstep. In the dark and the quiet, time stretched forever. Occasionally, she laid a hand on Steeljaw, just to be sure.

"Wait..." she paused. The lion copied, frozen breathless. Rusti scanned around them. The walls, the floor, the ceiling remained steadfast; eternal witnesses to a lifeless world. "Okay," she permitted. "I’m just a little freaked. Deep breath. Let’s keep going."

Another thirty feet relieved Rusti’s anxiety. Four huge windows overlooked the canyon from the lobby. A bridge ran from the science and medical’s second floor to central command. Soft lights blinked at them like tiny fairies held captive in square boxes. With another breath, Rusti led Steeljaw onto the enclosed bridge. One third along, her personal comline bleeped.

Magnus’ panicking voice raged over the line, "What the hell do you think you’re doing? Have you any idea what I’ve been going through looking for you??"

Rusti steadied herself. "No, Ultra Magnus," she replied calmly. "I’m sorry."

"Return immediately, Rusti! No one is allowed to go anywhere by themselves!"

"I’m not alone, Magnus. I have Steeljaw with me-"

"And he will forthwith be grounded for a month!"

Stay calm, she told herself. "Have you sent anyone out to look for Optimus and Roddi?"

"Not the point!"

"Have you, or have you not?"

"I am trying to keep everyone together-"

"Which is exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing," Rusti amended. "You have a full plate dealing with nineteen Autobot ships, a million people and a billion problems. Someone needs to find Galvatron, Optimus and Roddi. Since I am neither a scientist, a doctor, a technician, a warrior or a nurse, it makes more sense if I were to do something that’s more beneficial than standing around doing laundry."

"Rusti-"

"I can do this, Magnus. Someone needs to look after Optimus and Roddi and it’s always been my job."

He hesitated and the young woman imagined how the Major-general’s processors smoldered with thought. His voice softened, "I wish you had simply told me."

Rusti batted her eyes and nodded. "I think you and I both know where that would have gone, Ultra Magnus. You’re sweet, a good guy and you mean well. But you would not have allowed me to do this on my own."

Magnus sighed heavily with consent. "Be very careful, Rusti. We can’t help you."

"You too, Magnus. Don’t let your guard down."

Rusti left her end of the comline open just in case Magnus had something more to say. She and Steeljaw traveled the rest of the bridge in silence. She chanced once to lift her eyes and search the sky above them. It loomed dark and starless and just once Rusti caught the glint of a force field. Saying nothing of her observation to her companion, they entered the lobby at the other side of the bridge.

A strobe of light blinked in, snapped and blinked out. Rusti swore she caught half an image in that fractured second. The light flickered again and both woman and lion witnessed a face. But the vision, brief and blurry, zapped out.

"Is that a recording?" Rusti asked out loud.

The light snapped on one more time and a Quintesson’s hideous Face of Deceit gazed at Steeljaw as though the lion were an old friend. "Greeting..." The holographic projection flickered and again, Rusti thought she saw something other than the Quintesson. "isitors." The sound blipped and the image skewed. "...our new...-equipped space lab." Static disrupted the recording. A second passed before it cleared. "For your convenience, we have installed... installed... installed..."

Rusti shuddered. "Okay, let’s um, let’s move on."

The image flickered and the Quintesson’s voice changed to a deep metallic resonance. "...we have installed the new virus... pregnancy results in five Forquaran days..."

The Quintesson’s normal voice returned: "... a series of visitor’s quarters and added many creature-comforts we hope... we hope...you... find something here... from the hands of our... staff. If you... hesitate to... look forward ..."

Rusti turned away. "That’s it. I’m freaked." she directed their path out the lobby and into a well-lit corridor. Laser burns, bullet holes, blood and a few body parts left both ends of the corridor in the disarray of a war zone.

The place stank of rotted fish, urine and burnt oil. Rusti set her teeth on edge. How the putrid stench made it through her exosuit’s filters, she dared not guess. Perhaps the reek’s strength was practically liquefied. That thought alone slightly gagged her.

Rusti stepped back into the lobby and bent over, head between her knees. Steeljaw rejoined her and waited. Rusti breathed deeply as the smell faded. "Oh, that was gross. Not a word of this to Rodimus, okay? He doesn’t need any ideas."

Steeljaw lowered the front half of his body and stared at her. When she gave him a puzzled look, the lion crept closer, back end up, front hugging the floor.

Rusti didn’t know what to make of Steeljaw’s behavior at first. Of course, she scratched that up to an empty-headed moment. Then she realized what kitty was doing. "Are you sure you won’t mind carrying me, Steeljaw? I don’t want you to think I’m a wimp." His expression did not change and Rusti grinned, inwardly laughing at herself. "Too late for that, huh? Alright."

The faithful cassette kitty carried Rusti down the corridor on a swift and confident dash. All along the corridor’s length lay dismembered arms or tentacles, splattered organs, a head or two. Not all the body parts were those of Quintesson physiology. Some were of unidentified alien species.

Rusti did not bother to ponder the violent events that ended in chopped body parts. She was, however, all too happy when the corridor ended and the command center opened into a wide room. Computers, monitors and a main viewer screen lit the room with soft screens and stark contrast. But the creep factor lingered at the higher-end.

Steeljaw lowered and allowed Rusti to slip off. She frowned over the issue of her own height and twice stood on her toes just to see over control panel and counter edges. She strained her neck until Steeljaw gently nudged her back and offered to take her up again. She stood on his back then held tight when kitty leapt on a nearby chair. Rusti slipped off again and kept her feet on the edge in case the counters and panels had invisible controls.

She passed two computer monitors built into the wall and frowned at the array of switches and buttons; all written in an alien language. "You know, Steel, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was more of a peek-a-boo room. I mean, look at the number of screens here. Blaster would love this room."

Rusti stared at one flat screen monitor currently displaying a poorly-lit room occupied with giant tanks filled with lightly colored fluids. They appeared empty, but Rusti doubted they really were.

She abandoned that monitor for another and passed it when it displayed nothing more than static. The very next monitor with longer dimensions displayed the world just outside the command center. The Razor Lady faced the camera. Rusti watched as Autobots appeared and departed fully ignorant of the spying camera. She spotted Convoy as the Autobot femme angrily spoke to Scuttle, her ship engineer. The drama was interesting, but not on Rusti’s to-do list.

The next two monitors displayed nothing. Rusti stared at them, debating whether or not to chance flipping a switch. She gasped with a start when a tap-tap-tap-taptaptap beat behind her. Spinning round, she spotted Steeljaw playing with a plastic cup. He batted the small object in one direction, chased it and pitched it in another direction. His tail wagged with joy. Rusti turned back to her study. Steeljaw kept guard, in spite of his play and she did not need to worry.

"What the hell," she muttered. She stepped on the nearest button and the monitor on the right clicked on. The bright display of a hydroponics lab filled the screen. Alien plants of all sizes, shapes and colors, thrived either in gigantic planters or contained plots. An automated sprinkler system kicked in and doused the plants with life-giving water.

The camera panned right after three minutes, revealing a series of red-gold trees growing in a spiral much like a coiled serpent. After an additional three minutes, the camera panned right again. More coiled trees cluttered a grassy knoll. But dangling from the ceiling, hovering over one blackened tree hung a dead Quintesson. Rusti squeaked with horror. Pus or mucus dribbled out the wound that split Quintesson’s face in half. A puddle of yellow-cream goo puddled on the ground. Each new glob hit the ground with a soundless hiss of smoke.

Rusti swung left and forced herself to swallow several times to keep from vomiting. She shuddered, sick and mortified. "Oh, that was nasty. I think I’ve had enough. This isn’t finding Optimus."

A yellow light flashed two feet from her. The young woman debated whether or not to touch it. Part of her wanted to run back to the Crested Moon and stay until they left the asteroid. The adult within admonished her lack of courage. With another deep, clean breath, Rusti summoned her backbone and stepped on the button.

The empty monitor sat dark and silent, staring at her as with a single black eye. Rusti rolled her eyes and was about to turn and called for Steeljaw when movement in the blackness swirled then rippled like water.

"What the..." Rusti gawked with morbid fascination. She didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe it was a monitor made of a different kind of material than the others around her. Or maybe it was a freak malfunction.

Void’s head launched out the screen, teeth snapping, long black tongue flickering. Rusti screamed and lost her footing. Steeljaw caught her on his back. She gripped him for all she was worth and the lion bounded out the room. The Virus hissed and tugged its spidery shape, long tail and all, out the monitor.

It jumped off the computer console, arched its back and expanded in size. Its tail curved and looped as the thing hesitated. It lifted its long front right leg and cleaned the tip much like a praying mantis. It cleaned its left leg before raising its eyeless face to the ceiling.

A monitor turned itself on and static buzzed, though no speakers made the sound. Void turned its attention to the monitor and approached it with unnatural curiosity.

The oval eyes of a single-headed Quintesson opened amid the static. "Choth! Choth! Ime pyr croix insepency. Naquamu!! Ime pyr croix insepency! Croix insepency! Croix-"

Void attacked the screen and sank its teeth through the monitor. It tugged and tugged until the single-faced Quintesson slid out as if the monitor gave birth. The Quintesson screamed and flailed, wreathing against the monster. Void released and re-clamped its terrible jaws over the Quintesson’s face. The single-headed alien wrapped its tentacles around the beast and squirmed. Void sank its teeth into the squishy creature and ate it much like an alligator, chomping and swallowing the chunks whole. Fluids and blood flooded the floor and splattered all over the Virus.

Void’s whole form convulsed as it stretched is mouth further and further apart, swallowing the rest of the Quintesson like a starving serpent. The Quint’s tentacles wriggled until Void swallowed them, too. Its mouth closed and its squared tail whacked the floor. Satisfied, the abomination sat and cleaned itself with a forked black tongue.

****

"Whoa!! Stop, stop, stop!" Rusti couldn’t catch her breath. She bumped her chin on the back of Steeljaw’s cranial shield when the lion screeched to a halt. She slid off his leg and stumbled around for half a moment. Her muddled brain raced with fragmented thoughts until she found her voice: "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!? I HATE THAT VIRUS!! HOW THE HELL DID IT DO THAT?" Just as fast as her outburst sounded, Rusti stopped and stared at Steeljaw. "Did you see that? You saw that, right? Void? Please tell me I wasn’t hallucinating."

The Autobot first nodded then shook his head. Rusti turned away and stripped off her helmet, not even considering there might not be oxygen in the atmosphere. Nor did she stop to think that she breathed just fine. Instead, she faced the lion again with realization expanding in her eyes. "Ohmigod... it’s hunting. Ohmigod, that damn thing was hunting! That means... it’s not with Optimus or Roddi, but in the... complex’s computer systems."

Her mind wandered off, thinking of her love, Rodimus and Galvatron until her eyes settled on her helmet. Rusti batted her eyes in disbelief and sucked in air. "This place has oxygen," she whispered. Rusti rolled her eyes, annoyed with her addled brain. "Of course it has oxygen! All the humans in science and medical were breathing..." she shook her head. "Okay. I’m okay." she paused. "No, I’m not okay. I’m totally rattled." She ran her fingers along her scalp and took a moment or two to pull her wits together.

"Not dealing with this very well," she told herself. "This whole situation yanks. All I want is a normal day back home, studying homework and eating a dish of grapes and ice cream. Why does the universe think that’s too much to ask? Gawd, I miss my music! I wonder if I’ll ever see Dezi again."

As she muttered on, Steeljaw sniffed the dimly lit corridor around them. He wandered several yards from her and discovered the corridor ended in a ledge overlooking another level down. The Autobot lion leaned forward as far as he could and tested the air through his ol factory. His audio receptors tuned into their surroundings, filtering Rusti’s private rant from the environment. Steeljaw retreated from the ledge and followed his audios left where the corridor followed an on-ramp to another unmarked destination.

"Told Optimus going to Mars was a bad idea." Rusti breathed deeply as she calmed. "Place smells funky, like rusted-"

"Mwrow?"

Steeljaw’s inquisitive call snapped the young woman out of her ranting reverie and invited her to return to more pressing matters. "Two missing Autobot Primes and a stray Decepticon. Right. Lead on, Steel. I’ll just keep muttering to myself."

Rusti followed the lion up the ramp and left into a wide open area. The place felt close, as though cluttered with unseen objects. "Does anybody know how to say ‘lights’ in Quintesson?"

"Mmph." Steeljaw sniffed the air and kept forward. Rusti lingered, almost willing the space station’s computer system to read her mind.

She sighed heavily. "Mmormoratuke," she said in Autobot. But the results remained the same. "Xamphromkareeont?" She waited with a slight hope. "No? Pfffp. Whatever."

The lights shot on and Trevor slipped out a giant shelf loaded with memory crystals. "Are you asking for the lights, Rusti?"

She shivered, eyes wide and breath hitched. Rusti did not even notice she stood in a huge, huge library. "Uh-well..."

"All you had to do was ask."

"It’s a Quintesson science station, Trevor," she replied, pointing out the obvious.

"Yes it is."

"I don’t speak Quintesson." She watched the young man slowly smile. A knowing glint lit his eyes. Rusti tried not to be annoyed. "What?"

"All you have to do is ask me." He laughed when the young woman once again found herself at a loss for words. "I run this place, Rusti!"

Surprise blanched her face. "You’re Bare Anches?"

"Pffp. No. That’s the name of the asteroid. Your Human physic is not equipped with the features necessary to pronounce my name. So I searched for one in your memory. Now don’t freak out. I won’t use anything I know of you as black mail."

Inclined to laugh, Rusti batted her eyes and smiled. "That’s... so nice of you!" Her sarcasm would have made Rodimus proud.

Trevor nodded. "Have you found-"

"No."

"Do you know where-"

"No."

"Do you know how-"

"No."

Again he nodded. "Sounds like you’re in a fix."

"Yeah."

"Would you like some help?"

A little more relieved, Rusti pursed her lips. "Yeah." Trevor nodded in Steeljaw’s direction and waited for the young lady to catch up with him. From a pocket he produced a fruit similar to a nectarine and handed it to her.

"Thanks," Rusti accepted with gratitude. But she did not touch it. "It’s not real."

"Sure it is. I took it from the kitchen." They paused and faced one another. Rusti’s focus dropped from him to the fruit. "It’s real, Rusti," Trevor assured her. "I wouldn’t lie to you. I like you."

"But you’re a holograph-"

"A psychic projection. Remember?" He lifted a brow.

"But if you’re the lab’s computer or the building’s personality-"

"See, you’re judging me based only on what you know and experience. You’re not on Earth anymore."

Confusion kept Rusti from believing anything in front of her. "But you can’t be a life form."

Trevor took her hand and set the cold fruit in her palm. He watched her gape with surprise. "Define life forms, Rusti. Seriously."

Her brain drew a blank. "Uh..."

"Let me help: a life form is any carbon-based object, distinguishable from inorganic matter, capable of automation, of taking in energy, of reproducing its kind and often, of staking any amount of space as considered its territory. How’s that?"

"Um, I think that works."

"It’s also incorrect."

"Okay."

Trevor took Rusti by the crook of her arm and walked her along. "Do try the changuat. I hear nothing but praises about them. Now listen close. I’m about to give you a crash course on extraterrestrial life forms 101."

****

Since her assigned home ship, the Gabriel Genesis sat too far from the rest of the command staff, Cloudstreaker asked Convoy if she could do her work on the Razor Lady. Convoy, who loved Cloudy, cheerfully welcomed her former second-in-command onboard. She made sure Cloudstreaker had everything necessary to decode and decipher information gathered from the Quintesson’s command base.

Since the Hannibal’s Mark parked directly before the science and medical building, Magnus used the ship as a central communications and ‘water cooler’. Magnus popped onto the Genesis now and again to verify data between her and the Razor Lady.

Cloudstreaker snitched glanced his way at every opportunity. She traced the contours of his forearms and the smooth lines along his thighs. She even caught herself staring at his audio receptors and flushed. Five minutes later, Magnus approached and knelt before her. Cloudy’ power core vibrated so hard, she thought everyone on the bridge heard it.

"Lieutenant," he spoke softly and handed her a black and green digipad. "Rodimus stumbled upon this tidbit of information. I was wondering if you can verify it for me and correlate it against my findings. It’s very important. And I need to keep it hush-hush."

"I’d be happy-" their eyes met and Cloudy’s lips trembled because he was kissing-close. Her laser core stopped altogether. "I’d be happy to do so, Sir." The femme surprised herself with an unwavering voice. If she had toes, they’d be curling with nerves. Cloudy used every fragment of self control to keep from gripping his helm and kissing him for all he was worth. Magnus’ sweet smile did nothing to help the situation.

"Excellent, Cloudstreaker. By the way, what are you working on?" He leaned to the left, one leg about to slide under the other, palms on the floor.

Was he going to sit next to her? Oh Primus, oh Primus! Cloudstreaker swore all her joints were about to freeze up or explode.

"Ultra Magnus?" Delta slipped onto the bridge, digipad in hand.

Cloudstreaker’s optics dimmed in relief one moment, then darkened with an undercurrent of anger. Just when she was going to get half a moment with the Major-general, someone had to take him away. The femme did not bother hiding the pout on her lips as he walked away. It just wasn’t fair.

Something on the digipad Magnus handed her flashed for attention.

USER AQUARIUS B94-1025-1018 TO REQUEST SCHEMATICS FOR AUTOBOT ENGINEER KLASP.

Cloudstreaker reread the note, picked up her own digipad and requested a short profile on Klasp. Herself, neither a Prime nor a city commander, Cloudstreaker did not have a vast knowledge of the population. The femme reflected half the moment while she waited for the download. That was one of many factors she liked about Arcee: her friend didn’t hang with the usual gossip circles. As a second-in-command (formerly, now), Cloudstreaker could not afford the indulgence of gossip. Not that she thought it a loss. But she knew few people and had fewer friends.

Her digipad bleeped twice, indicating the information arrived. Cloudstreaker examined the findings and grimaced. "Black virus program? What the pitt is that?" she scrolled further along "fried meta-processor, unrecoverable. Spaced and embedded in a ship’s hull? Barbaric." Cloudstreaker tapped into her internal comline, hoping Arcee wasn’t too busy.

"Hey," Arcee answered.

"Hey. Um, what do you know about a black virus program?"

"Black virus?" Arcee echoed. "That’s nasty business. Why are you asking?"

"Something Ultra Magnus wants me to look into."

Arcee did not answer right away. "The Black Virus was invented by Decepticons back in 2008. It’s a trojan that has a physical delivery system. Something like a bug or other object that might sit on the exostructure until the host hits it either accidently or on purpose. Either way, it releases a minute amount of acid that eats through the exostructure and delivers the virus. From there, the virus mimics the cellular energon delivery system so the electro sanitizers don’t know the difference. From there the virus makes its way to the meta processor and crashes the CPU in the matter of a few days. We’ve never been able to hack the program and it killed six Paratrons."

"Wow." Cloudstreaker shivered with disquiet. "It sounds more like something the Quintessons might have invented."

"Is everything okay, Cloudy?"

"Hm? Yeah. It’s just... disturbing." Cloudstreaker’s voice trailed away, wondering how much pain Klasp endured before his death.

MEDICAL EXAMINATION HAS DETERMINED KLASP DIED FIVE WEEKS PRIOR TO HIS BODY’S DISCOVERY. DEATH WAS PREMEDITATED. INDICATIONS OF STRUGGLE ARE PRESENT. DEATH OCCURRED PRIOR TO THE BATTLE ON CRATIS.

Cloudstreaker couldn’t keep the grimace off her expression. If Klasp did not die at the hands of a Decepticon then it’s logical to conclude someone in the camp murdered him. But who and why?

She reread the sketchy details on Magnus’ digipad and found Rodimus’ data entry:

USER AQUARIUS B94-1025-1018 REQUEST ACCESS DENIED.

Cloudstreaker scrolled to the top and matched the data word for word:

USER AQUARIUS B94-1025-1018 TO REQUEST SCHEMATICS FOR AUTOBOT ENGINEER KLASP.

She searched the Aquarius user and found two Autobots with a similar code. Aquarius 29-QT8450-Pisces13: Talk Chalk. Nope. Not the same person. But the other one came up with Redial’s name.

Cloudstreaker tilted her head slightly left and picked up a separate digipad.

Dear Arcee, I’m about to commit a crime. Will you come visit me in the brig when I end up there?

She signed it and set it aside to wait for an answer. Picking up her other digipad, the femme wiggled her fingers over it and typed into it at a secretary’s speed. She cracked three codes and hacked into six files, one of which happened to be in Rodimus’ pad. From there, the femme hacked her way into the Crested Moon and attained a Level Eight access code and used it to open Redial’s personnel file and then his personal digipad. She slipped around a firewall and created a file that posed as a jpg.

Her internal comline bleeped, indicating a private channel opened from Arcee’s end.

"What are you up to, Cloudy?" Arcee asked while she checked off security reports.

Cloudy stole a furtive glance toward the bridge entrance then a second glance at Searchlight who occupied himself with weapons updates. "I just hacked into Redial’s digipad. But I can’t do anything unless I know he’s not looking at it."

Arcee smiled. "Did you need someone who can make a distraction?"

"You’re my pal, Arcee. Think you can pull it off?"

"Just tell me where the little microbe is located."

****

Jazz scowled and turned from the Quintesson’s communications panel as Ultra Magnus entered the science station’s command center. The Major-general set a short stack of digipads on a nearby table and stared at the Trench Driver’s captain with an air of expectancy.

"Don’tcha be lookin’ at me like that, Magnus," Jazz grumbled. "I ain’t gotta a single inkling how t’ use any a this stuff."

Magnus looked unconvinced. "Jazz, you were a communications officer long before you and Optimus Prime left for Earth-"

"I’m a specialist, Magnus. Not a talk show host."

Magnus held his hands up in a defensive manner. "All I want to do is find the Primes, break the tractor beam that’s keeping us here and get the Pitt off this chunk of rock. We can’t do that unless we decipher-"

"Hey, hey, I ain’t no Quint translation program. Seems to me, you got the wrong man entirely, Mags."

"Jazz-"

"Know what? Y’need somebody who’s been around the Quints." Sonix’ former city commander threw his arms in the air, "And it ain’t been me, man. What about that sweet femme whose got an optic out for ya?"

"What?"

"Uh, Cloudstreaker?"

"She’s what?" Magnus heard background chatter across the intercom. Something about a fight between Hotspot and Strike Back. He wasn’t sure if he heard Jazz correctly or not.

"Well, she’s good at languages," Jazz swiftly amended. "Know what? Better yet, how ‘bout Cyclonus? He ‘nd Galvatron hung around those slimy crack heads, least long enough t’ pick up a few words."

Magnus brightened at the idea. "I assigned Cloudstreaker to another task. Would you be willing to work with Cyclonus?"

"Hells yeah, Magnus and you’d best go and break up that fight b’fore I get involved!"

Magnus transformed and high-tailed his way one and a quarter miles from the command center. The Sabor’s Claw stood witness to the brawl between two sizable and powerful Autobots. Prose, Linear, Drox and Negate rooted for Strike Back while Delta hung back and passively watched. Sky Hi, Volt and three EDC officers whooped for Hotspot’s victory. At least fifty other citizens and officers watched on, entertained by beatings, cleaver moves and the exchange of a few antagonistic words.

Most of the onlookers scattered upon Magnus’ arrival. He transformed and pointed to the ten guilty ‘cheerleaders’. "Don’t even think of taking off," he growled.

Hotspot stopped fighting, but Strike Back did not and took a last punch in before Magnus landed a powerful kick into the Paratron commander’s left shoulder. Hotspot picked himself up and dislodged several sharp rocks from his armor. Strike Back hit the ground hard and slid several feet. He huffed, taking in air to cool his systems.

"What the HELL is going on here?!" Magnus shouted.

Hotspot glared. "Caught this vagrant an’ a few a’ his minions on m’ ship removing weapons without authorization."

"That’s a LIE!" Strike Back shouted in turn. "We’re a supplies ship and we needed ammunition!"

Hotspot’s optics flared. "I already checked with Arcee regarding yer inventory and she said yer r’ports said you got the correct amount a’ ammunition! An’ supplies don’t mean additional ammunition, Skux-aft!"

Strike Back posed to tackle the Protectobot leader and captain of the Armored Crest. But with Magnus there, he didn’t dare move from his spot. "Reports can be faulty!" he tried weakly.

"And yer a liar," Hotspot shot back.

"Enough," Magnus declared. "Strike Back, you’re under arrest."

The Paratron jumped and again shoved his face into the Major-general’s space. "I already told you," he said with low tones. "I don’t recognize your authority. You can’t tell me what to do. I am taking the Sabor’s Claw and getting off this rock with or without you or your permission, gunkhole." Strike Back waited for an answer and sneered in Magnus’ face. He turned away, spit a glob of oil on the ground and headed for the Claw. "Prose, Delta, get me a descent invent-GAAAHH!"

Strike Back lay face down, sprawled along the rocky ground. Magnus pointed his rifle at the Paratron’s cheering section. "I will NOT tolerate insubordination of ANY KIND. How clear am I making myself?" He listened to their apologetic, if fearful, mutters. Magnus reset his weapon from Stun Level Two and put it away. "You will all be reassigned effective immediately and you will all be supervised from now forward. Sky-hi, Volt, Strike Back is under arrest. Put him... next to Daniel Witwicky. You’ll receive your new assignments within the hour. Hotspot. Conference. NOW."

****

He danced. The floor beneath him vibrated with a crisp, heady thrum. Jazz bobbed his body up and down before he dove, rolled and spun on his back. Jazz was always a great dancer.

Sideswipe flapped his arms in slow motion. He laughed, overcharged with ‘good stuff’. He swept an arm around Quasar, tipped her back and twirled her around his form. Sunstreaker couldn’t wait for his brother to make a misstep in the dance. Sideswipe was never as good a dancer as he. Sideswipe was never as good looking or as intelligent, either.

Firestar stepped up and asked to dance but Sunstreaker laughed in her face. She wasn’t pretty enough to share the floor with him. He did, however, ask Arcee to partner up. She accepted, so delighted to dance with Mr. Golden. He allowed her to follow his lead a moment or two into the song. He dipped her, kissed her then dropped her to the dance floor and stepped on her face and mashed her nose in. He stomped with all his might and pulverized her face, cracking her optics. He crushed her, crumpled her armor, cracked her head.

Her body lay prone while everyone else kept dancing. Nobody was allowed to be better looking than Sunstreaker. No one. He gripped her unshielded optics and ripped them out. He cracked open her chest plate and yanked out her powercore. Her fluids spurted all over him, all over the floor in a bath of death. Reflex motility jiggled her body and Sunstreaker laughed.

"Now you’re beautiful!" Sideswipe’s brother declared. He swept her body shell off the floor and danced while Arcee’s corpse flopped and dragged like a burned and bloodied doll. "Isn’t she beautiful?" he declared. "Maybe she’ll be my bride!" he danced with the corpse as Sideswipe tossed him a smile of approval. Arcee’s head lolled side to side almost in time with Sunny’s flamboyant moves.

He laughed as the world passed in slow motion. The lights twinkled as with magic, the music slowed to an eerie drag. Arcee’s skull lifted and Void’s head replaced her mangled face. Sunstreaker released the corpse and screamed. He flinched backward but not fast enough, not before Void’s neck stretched forth, fast as a cobra. The Virus plunged its demonic head into Sunny’s perfect body, into Sunny’s sacred space, into his core.

Sunny jiggled and convulsed. Who was the corpse, now? He lost his beauty. He lost his world. He lost his wit. He lifted his vocalizer in a guttural cry; a thing near to death that clutched at the hem of life with bloodied and skeletal fingers-

"G-g-g-g-g-gaaaahhhhhh!!!" He shot up from the flat. Words entered his audio receptors in fragments of pitch and volume. Warm metal painfully gripped his upper arms and Sunstreaker screamed until he recognized the words and the voice that uttered them. He froze, his optics locked on a soft globe of light.

"Sunny! Sunny! I’m here, Bro! Here! Listen! It’s me! It’s me!"

Sunstreaker, his body half-up, face drenched in light, settled enough to realize the dance was over. The monster left. The music ended. He keened low and mournful, a pitiful sound like a dying dog.

Gentle arms wrapped around his vulnerable frame. Sunstreaker kept his optics on the light. He drank it in as darkness encroached the landscape of his spark. Gingerly Sunny’s fingers touched the Autobot who held him. He whimpered, "Ssss....Sssides, doan leggo. Doan leggo. I’m eaten, Sides. It’s eating me!" He trembled as his brother gently rocked him to ease his emotional suffering.

"Thought I lost you," Sideswipe whispered. "Can’t go and leave without me, Bro. You know that, right? You can’t."

"Make them go away," Sunny whispered. "Make those dreams go away." His voice shifted from a whisper to a song, "Make the dreams go away. Hear me now, what I say. Waking in the dark... waking in the dark... tearing you apart... inconsequential things occur
alarms are triggered
memories stir ..."

Sideswipe parted from his brother, though his hands never left Sunny’s rickety shoulder struts. "inconsequential things occur ...alarms are triggered ... Sunny, that’s Peter Gabriel."

"Hmmm..."

"You hate Peter Gabriel. You hate Embossix and Classic Winds." Sideswipe stared through confusion. "And you don’t sing."

"Hmmmm..." Sunny mourned quietly and rocked back and forth. "Sides? Sides?"

"Yeah, Bro. I’m right here."

"I don’t wanna be here any more. Maybe... maybe we can go see a movie?" Sunny’s sad face lifted like a child injured and uncertain.

Sideswipe pushed a smile over his lips. After the stunt just day before yesterday, he wasn’t so sure First Aid would let Sunstreaker anywhere around any one for any length of time. Magnus certainly would not. And it wasn’t that Sideswipe blamed them. But no matter how convincing he tried to be to himself and everyone else, Sideswipe knew he was losing his brother. The prospect left him raw; the emotions grinded him into a lethargic state.

But... there was Doublecross.

****

One hoop of energy revolved and rotated inside another; two great circles of power, inflamed by a technology far beyond Rusti’s experience. She stared at them a long moment, mesmerized by their glittering brilliance. Every few seconds, the circles of energy lined up and a window to another place opened. Rusti thought she saw blue sky and ocean one rotation and flames and a celestial landscape the next.

Trevor watched with her as the circles lined again and briefly revealed a world with two suns. "Fascinating, is it? They were into all kinds of projects here."

"Hu?" Rusti batted her eyes and stared at the image of a boy she knew from school. The young woman wondered momentarily whether or not Trevor and his brother were even alive. Maybe their father was. Jax Tolomsky was awarded as one of the finest police chiefs Central City ever had.

Trevor nodded toward the forty-foot object. "The Quintessons, the Amuune and the Palequane. They were into all kinds of things."

Rusti narrowed her eyes. "Can you tell me everything about the complex? I mean, you’re the computer personality, right? You can tell me anything I need to know, like how to shut the tractor beam off, what happened to the Imperium and how to leave this place."

Trevor lifted his eyes and nodded. "I like you, Rusti. But even you have to have clearance codes."

"Of course," she accepted. Steeljaw scratched a door at the opposite side of the room. His head dropped for a scent sample before the lion met Rusti’s eyes. She and Trevor joined kitty and stared at the huge door. "What’s in here?"

"You can’t go in there," the psychic projected replied.

"I didn’t ask to go in, I asked what’s in there." Rusti now saw less of the boy she knew and more of the science complex’s computer personality. Although, thinking on it now, Rusti wondered if it was the computer she spoke to, or the extension of a sapient consciousness. After all, Tele-Tran III was an artificial intelligence, sometimes referred to as ‘he’ by the Autobots. But it was still a computer.

"I’m sorry, Rusti. Unless you have an access code, I can give you no information." Trevor’ neutral expression made her think of Data from Star Trek. The response might be friendly enough, but raised with Autobots, Rusti was no ignoramus about Newton’s third law.

"Well, alright. Um. How about... Steeljaw, can you just give me a scan of what’s behind Door Number One?" She smiled when Trevor gave her a dirty look. Rusti shrugged. "You said you couldn’t give me access or information. It doesn’t mean I can’t take it myself."

Steeljaw scratched the door and left four long marks on the metal. Rusti retrieved her helmet from subspace, slipped it on and dialed a connection between her systems and the lion’s scanners. Thermal scans indicated a body on the other side but static ate the details. Rusti flinched when she thought she spotted something in the static, something with eyes and hands. She passed it off as jitters and stepped back a few steps. "Steel, can you break the door down?"

Trevor lolled his head on his shoulder, a displeased look hardened his eyes. "You know I’ll have to sound the alarm if you do that, Rusti."

Rusti met his gaze with determination. "I am here to find my friends. I appreciate your help, but I don’t have time or patience to play guessing games. Besides, there’s a Virus running around the complex, now and the sooner we’re out of here, the better."

"What virus?"

Steeljaw backed six yards from the door and with a running start, kitty slammed against the door, all claws extended. Steeljaw’s impact embossed the heavy metal door with his paws, but the door itself did not break. Backing up one more time, kitty aimed all four of his laser weapons at the door’s dead center and fired.

The door shattered and tumbled to the floor. Trevor cursed in fluent Quintesson. "I have to go, Rusti. Good luck on finding your friends."

"I thought you were here to help me find them." she replied sternly.

"I was. But someone’s trying to hack into my security systems."

"I’m sorry, Trevor. I gotta do what-"

"It isn’t you, Rusti," Trevor answered gently. "It’s someone with really good skills. I’ll have to see if they’ll play a game of chess with me while I rebuild my walls. Good-bye." He vanished and Rusti huffed.

"Rebuild walls, my ass." she lifted her voice, certain he could hear her, "it won’t do you any good, Trevor! There’s a Virus on the loose!"

Steeljaw looked at her over his shoulder. "Mmmph?"

Rusti rolled her eyes. "Just like a man to leave me stranded on a date. Well, lead on, Steel. I have a good looking Autobot to get my hands on."

They entered the next room, their footfalls squelched with a sticky substance coating the floor. Rusti produced a flashlight and grimaced at blood, several dried puddles of it. Shapes hung in the air caught the cast-off from her light and upon illuminating them, the young woman froze and stared.

Skeletons. Dozens of them, all floating as though posted with invisible restraints. One figure resembled a dragon. The others looked like nothing Rusti recognized except for three Quintesson faces. Their faces hung, charred and battered.

"What the hell happened here?" Rusti moved only when Steeljaw moved. She panned her light left to right and back, finding a few other remains until she and kitty encountered one partition standing at the left. Something left its plating eaten away so that only brittle remains barely stayed intact. Rusti gave it the lightest touch and flinched when the whole thing collapsed.

"What do you think happened here?" she wasn’t asking Steeljaw and he did not answer.

Some feet away, her flashlight reflected off a wall of rippling matter similar to water. Steeljaw’s scanners indicated nothing was there; empty space. Woman and cat stood and stared until Rusti decided to pick up her bravery and test the field. She searched the floor for something to toss when a soft light flashed on, off, on again. Rusti and Steeljaw fixed their gaze on an opened window of light as it flickered until an image appeared.

"Oh, shit," Rusti swore. "No. Not here! Not now!" She set her teeth as a Matrix memory played itself on the wall. Sunstreaker laughed heartily. He threw an arm around Bluestreak. Bluestreak said something but the memory windows never came with sound. Chills ran up Rusti’s spine and she swallowed hard.

Sunstreaker laughed heartily. He threw an arm across Bluestreak’s shoulder struts. Rusti creased her brows in bewilderment. Had she seen this before? Did this happen before? In all the reported events she read regarding the Virus attacks, none of them ever mentioned a looping memory.

Her breath quickened.

Sunstreaker laughed heartily. He moved to lap an arm across Bluestreak’s shoulders but he faced the ‘camera’ instead and his arm reached out the window and grabbed for Rusti. She screamed when his fingers came too close to touch and backed away, backed away, even as his arm retreated into the window of light.

Rusti’s heel caught the ledge of something lying on the floor. She tripped backward and fell right through the floor, right through something that did not register on any scanner.

She lost her breath as she fell and fell. The next moment, she watched Steeljaw leap into the sky, falling after her. They fell as through the core of a planet.

Rusti blinked and stood in a high school classroom. At the chalkboard stood Mr. Krantz, her sophomore psych teacher. His light brown sweater hung off his lean figure just the way she remembered reading from her class book.

"When Edward R. Murrow of CBS finally visited Auswitch after World War II, he said he described what he could so the rest of the world could understand just what kind of horrors men do to men. Ladies and Gentlemen, I want you to realize right now, right today, that what Murrow said was only a fraction of what went on in Nazi concentration camps. The rest, he said, he had no words for. Now, your assignment is to analyze this traumatic moment and in your paper, I want a step-by-step reconstruction of his reaction."

Mr. Krantz spoke to an empty classroom. Rusti roved her eyes over vacant desks and shivered. Was this another Matrix memory? Was she caught up in it somehow? "What is this?" she whispered. "Steeljaw?"

Heedless of her presence, Mr. Krantz continued, "And Mr. Tolomsky? (Pause) Trevor Tolomsky! Thank you for your attention, Mr. Tolomsky. Can you tell me how many pages your paper is supposed to be?"

Now student bodies occupied the desks. Some of them jotted notes. A couple of them worked on other homework. One simply sat and stared into nothing. Rusti spotted herself sitting in the row opposite Trevor. Her other self smiled just enough that only Rodimus would have picked it up.

Trevor cleared his throat, "I believe about three pages."

"Thank you, Mr. Tolomsky, for informing us of your ignorance." Mr Krantz announced. With the valley of amnesia floating in her head, Rusti had mercifully forgotten what a dick Mr. Krantz was. "I want six pages. I want a diagram with the report and an analysis of Mr. Murrow’s history and what influenced him to say what he did."

Rusti rolled her eyes. Six pages. She hoped she did more than six, just to be a smart ass. The young lady frowned. "At least at this point in my life I would have been a smart ass," she amended to herself. She approached the board and the teacher as he adjusted a pair of thinly-framed reading glasses. "You know, she said to the teacher’s image, "Murrow witnessed some pretty bad stuff. But don’t you think it’s tacky to use his horrible experience to teach psychology? You’ve never been stripped of your dignity, drugged raped or tortured. What gives you the right to expose and exploit someone else’s moment of emotional distress and weakness?"

Not that she expected an answer. Moments like these, be they dreams, visions or flukes of the conscious, never returned an answer-at least that which she remembered. Of course, conversation with her grandmother Witwicky when Rusti nearly died, didn’t count.

Mr. Krantz turned back to the chalk board and scribbled what Rusti assumed was the homework assignment. But upon momentary scrutiny, Rusti realized he wrote in Autobot. Her brows furrowed. "What are you writing?" She backed up when he started a new row.

"...omk..." A creepy sense of deja vu curdled her blood. "No games. No games. What’s that mean?"

Movement from the classroom caught Rusti’s attention and she watched her other self scramble out her chair and scuff backward, eyes wide and face pale.

Krantz sighed irritably. "Miss Witwicky." he snapped. "What is it this time? Another trip to the lady’s room?"

Her other self stared right at her. Rusti tilted her head slightly left. "Can you see me?" she asked. She dared another step. What are you seeing? What’s freaking you out?" Rusti turned round and spotted a shadow towering over her, an apparition with a horned head attached to inhuman appendages resembling legs. She stepped back for a better view.

"I’ve seen this before. But not here. It was on Cratis." She looked to her other self. "What’s going on? What’s that mean?" Rusti scoured her head, both places with memories and whatever she gleaned from other sources. The only answer coming her way was of Optimus. Nothing more. Nothing. She realized right then that everything around her stood frozen. Mr. Krantz pointed an ink pen at her other self. One student passed a note to another. Someone else gathered books, but everything looked as though someone pressed a universal pause button.

Rusti stole several feet and examined one student then another. She stared at her younger self before looking at the papers on her desk.

She scowled and picked out another paper. Choth, ime pyr croix incepency; line upon line, upon line on both sides of the paper. "TREVOR!" Rusti shouted, "I’m not here to play games! I’ve had enough of this crap!" she searched the ceiling, waiting for something to change. "VOID! VOID, YOU DICKHEAD!"

Rather than an answer, the left corner of the room darkened. It spread and the landscape around Rusti changed. "Oh, crap," she whispered. The room faded away, replaced with a dark place lit by sleeping machines. Their hum filled the silence with haunting tones.

"Psychic projection," Rusti said to herself. "Some telepaths are known to send people into a dreamlike state... so I... was reliving a memory, although I don’t remember the event. Something..." Her verbal reassurance failed to protect the young lady from the sensation of another presence. Rusti’s mouth ran dry.

"S-Steeljaw?" she drew a stuttering breath and turned around. She kept her flashlight on the ground in case... in case she encountered a monster. "Steeljaw?" she repeated.

Galvatron’s heavy voice filled the air with a strange comfort. "Rusti? Is that your squeaky voice I hear?"

"Galvatron?" her voice pitched with hope and surprise. He came into view and Rusti’s blood drained with relief. Her legs weakened and she bent over, palms on her knees to keep from falling over. "Oh, geeze, please tell me you’re for real!"

"I’m for-real, but not in the flesh, I’m afraid."

"What?" She stood up and startled when her eyes met his soft ruby optics. Galvatron smiled as he lay on the floor in front of her.

"I like your face," he purred. "Especially when you turn from surprised to annoyed."

"Galvatron! You almost scared the piss out of me!"

"I get that a lot, you know? Tell me, is it because I smell funny?" the Decepticon rolled onto his back and stared into space.

Rusti voiced concern and annoyance in one tone. "Where have you been? Where are Optimus and Roddi?"

"Uhhh... I’ve been playing tic tac toe with memories and hallucinations for the past ... several hours? Days? Can’t tell. Had a wonderful one-sided conversation with Major-general Maximus Thrax. I knew he was an afthole, but... anyway. Rodimus disappeared. Pontiac slipped into the floor and I’ve not seen him since. I had no idea Optimus was missing and What’s-His-Other-Name fell off the radar almost the second we stepped out of scanning range with the Hydroza."

"Highbrow, Galvatron." Rusti heaved a sigh. "And it’s nice to find someone familiar-as long as you’re not a hallucination."

Galvatron perked and sat up. "That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me! Now tell me, Mizz Rusti, you did not come here alone, did you?"

"No. But I have lost Steeljaw. And I fell through another floor so I have no idea where I am-er-we are now."

Galvatron lifted his head as though he heard something. Rusti watched the Decepticon, so grateful she found someone, even if she lost kitty. Fortunately, Steeljaw was capable of caring for himself. Galvatron stood and dusted his hands. "Let’s head this way." He took three steps.

"Why?"

"I’m picking up an energy signature."

"But I’m not picking up anything," Rusti scanned the giant room filled with strange equipment, some of which stood broken. She met his optics and felt strangely calmed by his friendly smile.

"I’d not lie to you, Rusti," he said gently. She followed him through the room, their footsteps echoed against the high ceiling, a homage to a place not used in a very long time. At one point, Gavatron pointed to their left, indicating the corpse of some alien neither of them knew. Rusti quickened her pace and walked on the Decepticon’s right side.

The room tapered into a short corridor. A shaft of soft light poured from another room at the end. Their pace quickened with anticipation. Taking the left turn, Galvatron and Rusti entered a brightly-lit area occupied by tall pillars of vibrating energy. Power strips ran along the walls and disappeared into conduits. At the dead center stood a great sphere of light, floating off the floor. It bobbed up and down now and again and transmitted a bolt of energy to a pillar.

"Optimus!" Rusti ran off before Galvatron reached for her. He followed the young lady to the far right-side of the room where Optimus sat before the wall, etching it with a laser knife. "Optimus," she repeated. Rusti touched his leg and tried to read his face.

Galvatron crouched behind her and peered into the Autobot leader’s dark expression. Galvatron watched as Prime etched another word into the wall and frowned. "He’s not here with us, Rusti."

"What?"

"Present, but not accounted for." Galvatron laid a hand on Optimus’ shoulder but received no response. "Someone’s home, but the answering machine isn’t turned on. At least he’s not violent. Possibly caught in a psychic mind trap just as we were."

Rusti gave him a double glance. "How did you know that I-never mind."

The familiar sound of Steeljaw’s tap-scrape caught both their attention and Galvatron smiled. "Your steed has arrived, Mizz Rusti."

She approached the lion and hugged his muzzle. "Glad you’re okay. Did you lose me or did I lose you? Cuz I thought you were with me." He gently nudged her then his head shot up, audio receptors pointed in several directions. Steeljaw’s tail whacked the air with a sense of urgency before Galvatron and Rusti heard it too.

WHACK! CRACK! CRACK! TAP! TAP! Taptaptaptap...tap.

Galvatron stood and tugged Optimus to his feet. "That’d be the death knell of Moria. Let’s go."

"The what?" Rusti didn’t catch that. Steeljaw nudged her one more time and lowered himself for her. She climbed on and they waited while Galvatron swept Optimus up in a gentle hold and swiftly memorized Prime’s macarnic inscription on the wall.

Galvatron led them forward on a longer stroll than Rusti could have kept had Steeljaw not found them. They approached the back of the room where Galvatron searched for an opening.

CRACK! SSWAK! CRACK!

Rusti glanced over her shoulder but she saw nothing nor did her scanners pick up movement or energy. She tightened her grip on the Autobot lion. Something was there, but not visible either to eye or electronic scan. Rusti’s body jerked when Steeljaw leapt forward. The world fell again to the darkness of unoccupied space.

"Keep going!" Galvatron ordered behind them. Rusti held her breath as Steeljaw galloped, his metallic footfalls barely made a sound. She heard Galvatron behind them but could not tell how far.

A set of massive doors slipped apart like a set of jaws. A soft green luminescence welcomed the fleeing party and then the doors clanged shut and something slammed into them from the other side. It banged and thumped, but the doors did not so much as vibrate. A sniffing sounded behind the door before all turned silent.

Rusti released another huff of relief before scanning their current surroundings.

Green vegetation taller than the Dinobots enveloped them. Moss carpeted areas along a rocky path leading through the artificial forest. Kitty stayed up front as they followed the trail. Rusti removed her helmet and breathed in rich oxygen. Plants from uncharted worlds flourished in abundant color. Flowers caught her eyes in equal brilliance, some of which glowed or glittered. Then to Rusti’s amazement, a bird flitted overhead and landed on a tree branch just ahead.

Whooo-boo-boo-boo!

A fan of blue and green feathers lifted from the back of its head while its tail fanned downward in black and gold.

"Stop here," Galvatron ordered more than suggested. Steeljaw turned as the Decepticon rested his burden against the same tree. Optimus’ optics glowed dimly but his body slumped as though unconscious. Galvatron leaned to whisper in Prime’s left audio. "Hey, I know you’re in there someplace. When you get half a moment, there’s a sweet lady who’s waiting for you to come back to her." The Decepticon sat back and slowly smiled when his friend’s optics darkened then dimmed on. Optimus moved as though in pain. "There you are," Galvatron whispered.

"We need to leave... Galvatron," Optimus sounded as sad and weak.

"Okay," Galvatron returned lightly. "But first, we need to rejoin Magnus and find Rodimus before he terrorizes the entire asteroid." Galvatron scrunched beside Prime, tugged Optimus’ left arm across his shoulders, slipped an arm around the Autobot’s back and managed a graceful rise.

"Roddi?" Optimus weakly echoed.

"That’s right, is it not, Rusti? Rodimus the Terrible: alive and well on Bare Anches."

Rusti shook her head. "Will there ever be peace between you two?"

Galvatron guided Optimus to the path and sent her a brief, maniacal grin. "Only when it’s Magnus season, Mizz Rusti."