GUAPACHA

Sideswipe dropped just before his infected brother lunged for him. Doublecross transformed and deflected Sunny’s elongated grasp. He crashed into the large TV screen and hissed as equipment snapped and flared.

"Run!" Crossy ordered. Sideswipe hesitated; his heart ached for his brother. He whispered Sunny’s name as the lady Monsterbot shifted back to her robotic form, leapt clear of the seating area and grabbed Sideswipe. She half dragged him out the room, closed and sealed the door behind her.

"Security!" she called on the com. "Trouble on level two, Room 124! I repeat-" Crossy’s scream cut off her own words as Sunstreaker busted through the wall. A shower of sliced wiring, sparks and broken metal followed him. All four of his limbs tapped along the flooring in a freakish version of his former self. Sideswipe transformed and he raced down the hall as Doublecross copied and took flight, keeping up with Sunstreaker’s twin in the air.

Security officers Volt and Grinder stomped out the elevator and allowed the escapees to pass by before they set up an energon net across the corridor. But even the thing inside Sunstreaker recognized a trap that obvious. It hissed and waggled its backside before taking two, three steps backward.

The timing could not be worse: Two Paratron femmes walked into the moment from the other end of the corridor, giggling. They spotted Sunstreaker, shrieked and ran. Sunny hunted them down, racing at a heartbeat pace. Volt and Grinder charged. They took four steps and transformed into armored cycles.

Sideswipe and Doublecross caught their proverbial breath as the elevator descended to ground level. After passing level four, Sideswipe punched the halt button and leaned against the wall. "No," he moaned. "This is wrong. This is wrong. I need to go back."

"No!" Crossy objected. "He doesn’t know you anymore, Sideswipe. We’ll leave it to security to deal with him and then we’ll visit him."

Sideswipe’s expression turned venomous. "You think I’m afraid, Crossy? Hu? I’ve only known him ALL MY LIFE! You go on ahead, take the slagging cowardly way out! But he’s MY brother and he needs me!"

"He’ll also kill you, Sideswipe!"

"HE’S MY TWIN!" Sideswipe paused as he drew air to cool his highly charged systems. "My life is MEANINGLESS without him!"

"That’s not true."

"Oh, isn’t it? What the smelt do you know about it, Crossy?! Hu?! He’s EVERYTHING! Sunstreaker is my other half and you think I’m just going to abandon him?!" Sideswipe drew another breath. "You can just stay here, wench. I’m going to take care of my brother!" Sideswipe leapt to the elevator ceiling, popped the emergency exit and scampered up the service ladder. Doublecross glared after him then followed.

The Virus slammed Sunstreaker’s infected body against one wall then dented another as the security guards closed the glowing energy net around him. The femmes huddled to the side as four more officers arrived to their aid.

Sunstreaker, or the thing that resembled him, hissed at everything. He crouched at the enclosure’s center while security inched forward, treating the situation as though dealing with a wild animal.

Sunstreaker tilted his face toward the ceiling and with a powerful leap, clawed into the metal and hung upside down by his four appendages. He swayed like a spider, assessing the environment around him.

"Oh, Primus!" One femme wailed.

"Volt to bridge," the officer called aloud. "We have a more serious situation. Request assistance-"

"SUNNY!" Sideswipe shifted from automode to his robotic self and stared up. He trembled, worried and fearful. "Sunny," he repeated with a calmer voice. "Sunny, there’s no need to be afraid. They just want to help you."

Sunstreaker cackled like an old woman on a bad narcotic trip. "Izzat so? And tells us, Sssss.... ssss... Dzzz ...ipe... if you like a game."

As Sunstreaker spoke, four more hefty security officers thundered in bearing containment field activators. They fastened each silver, cube-like device to the floor. They waited to dissolve the electro-net before activating the field. That meant Sunstreaker had to be on the floor.

Sideswipe slowly maneuvered left and kept steadfast optical contact with his brother. "Sunny... Sunny, you know how much I love games, right? Heck, we’ve pulled a few good ones back in the day. Remember how we hacked all switchboard frequencies so that for one hour, all communications equipment played that stupid song by Stray Cats? You thought it was one of our best ideas ever." Sideswipe struggled to keep the smile. His heart ached, his chest hurt. His brother, the better part of his spark, hung upside down like a freak accident of Quintesson design. Sunny stared and studied him as security waited.

Inching closer, Sideswipe’s lip components trembled. "Sunny, h-h-how about you come down and um, and we’ll discuss what other stuff we can do later, huh? Something a little more fun than this, right?"

A flicker of clarity sparked in Sunny’s right optic. He tilted his head, puzzled. "Swipe," his voice no longer held the strange tones; the duo pitch. "I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

"Come down here, Sunny and let us help you,"

"I don’t know what’s wrong with me," Sunny repeated with a whine. "I feel like I’m choking. Everything’s dim, like the world is lit by one maglight. I can see you. I see them." Sunstreaker’s voice faded. He did not think to ask why he hung from the ceiling or why he stared at his environment upside down. Nor did he wonder why he saw death in the faces of those below him; even that of his beloved brother. Their bodies wavered like a heat source on a frosty January morning.

Lifting his head, Sunstreaker caught his optics’ reflection off the metal ceiling. They glowed without his usual mischievous spark. His optics dimmed with internal pain. Memories of dark things, long since buried, surfaced to feed the thing, the Bird within.

More than that, Sunstreaker noticed the slipshod wreckage he considered a face. Was this all? Was he nothing more than a leftover piece of equipment retained for spare parts? He held no value. He lost everything. Time and war finally deprived Sunny of those things that made him a person: his strength, fighting skills, his style and appearance. Now he was a shadow; something that came and faded, unnoticed.

Sunstreaker mourned, ashamed the outside world beheld him in such an unacceptable light. All his admirers now scorned him and turned their heads elsewhere. His visage, little more than a mockery, resembled a clattering collection of Tinker Toys and used Legos. What a sorry, sorry sight.

Sideswipe called his name again. Sunny’s brother pleaded him to come down, return to the world of normal people; those who came and left with no thought to their wholesome, beautiful forms. They were perfect. And Sunny could not bear to mortify them with his defective presence.

His mind slipped into the darkness waiting for him. In the dark recesses of his mind, Sunstreaker found refuge from his shame and embarrassment. Here he pretended his existence lay elsewhere; the world consisted of him alone. He gave permission and control to whatever -whomever else- held the rest of his mind and body. Sunstreaker no longer cared.

He hummed, content with the Darkness and the Bird, glad to be free of struggle and responsibility. That Dark Thing that choked him now swallowed him whole and Sunstreaker found warmth and coziness in its throat. He slid down, down into the pit of its belly and rested comfortably.

At the outside, Sunny’s hum turned into a song, his voice rasped and cracked:

Them days a-rollin

Below Sunny his brother keened, heartbroken. "Nooo... Sunny!" Sideswipe wailed. "Listen to me! Listen to me! We’re trying to help you!"

"SUNSTREAKER!!" Sides shouted. "YOU HAVE TO FIGHT THIS! YOU HEAR ME?"

over and over, over and over, over and over.

Clickin’ clackin’-

Sideswipe paced and wracked his brain while his brother sang with that awful caterwaul, as though Sunstreaker were possessed. Maybe he was.

Ultra Magnus emerged from the nearby elevator, digipad in hand. Not the kind of help Sideswipe wanted.

"You’re not going to kill him!" he immediately shouted at the Major-general. "You hear me?! Everyone else has given up on him! He’s MY BROTHER!"

"We MUST contain him, Sideswipe," Magnus growled. "No more outings, no more games. He is going to one place and will remain there." All optics turned to the elevator once again as First Aid and three med assistants stepped out, guiding a stretcher and energo- restraining bolts.

Sideswipe didn’t want to do this. He did not want to imprison his brother but understood and accepted why. He reluctantly slipped aside as Magnus and the two med assistants targeted Sunny with weapons set to stun.

They shot him and Sunstreaker howled like a dying cat. He expectorated and left a nasty smelling black glob on the assistant to Magnus’ right. Ultra Magnus shot Sideswipe’s brother again and Sunny hissed. He leapt off the ceiling, avoiding the electro-enclosure entirely. Landing too close to the same medical assistant, Void-Sunny hissed again then spider-walked after Sideswipe.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe squeaked. "Sunny?"

Magnus pointed his weapon at the infected Autobot. "Sidewipe, RUN!"

The Autobot warrior pushed himself into a backflip and landed lightly six yards from his brother. With a gleeful scream, Sunstreaker chased, scampering in such a way that everyone shuddered with abhorrence. Sideswipe ran until he transformed and raced down the hall, slid into a drift and rounded a left turn. Sunstreaker leapt, touched the wall and with another screech followed far too easily.

Magnus pointed the way, transformed and barreled down the corridor after the twins. He informed the Trench Driver, her security team and all non-essential personnel to exit all corridors and open all hatches leading outside. As much as Magnus hated to expand the chase outdoors, he didn’t think cornering Sunstreaker was so great a plan, either.

Three corridors later, Magnus, First Aid, the twins and Doublecross (who heard the announcement) arrived in Cargo Bay 2. Sideswipe mistakenly chose to end the chase. He swerved in a hairpin, transformed and faced his insane brother.

Magnus swerved a hard right, shifted as momentum carried his frame in a circle and set his weapon for maximum stun. "Sideswipe, what the smelting pitt do you think you’re doing?!"

"Ending this!"

First Aid transformed the moment he crossed the threshold. "No!" he cried.

His objection fell to dead air when Sunstreaker leapt, smashed into his brother and the two of them disappeared into the shadow-crevices. Magnus slammed his rifle on the floor and profusely cursed.

**********

Rusti sat on Optimus’ flatbed, motionless and bewildered. She woke and he wasn’t there. He didn’t get up; nobody came for him; he just wasn’t there. Her heavy heart heaved with the sickness of worry and fear. Her eyes fixed on nothing as her mind waded in a swamp of emotions to let a thought through.

It had to be Void. It had to be. Nothing else... she cut that thought because she knew better than to underestimate Quintesson technology.

Thinking of the bastards choked her. Rusti tried not to weep over the situation. She ran a hand over the flatbed’s cold surface. One way or another, the Quintessons were going to take Optimus from her. Either by Virus or internal torment, they were determined to tear the Autobots apart by attacking the Primes.

Was there any solution? Any at all? Were they doomed to go down kicking and fighting? Rusti wanted a life with Optimus. Her fingers raked into her curly hair and the girl thought about taking a shower. Now they were at a place where clean water was not an issue, bathing was not limited to one day a week. But no amount of physical pampering remotely soothed her fear. The Autobots had their hands full. She heard about the situation with Sunstreaker and Rusti knew without a doubt the Virus inexplicably infected him.

And if the Virus had the ability to infect someone other than a Prime, chances were everyone else was at risk. Even organics.

The seed of an idea tumbled into her head. Rusti stared at monitors and machines of varying functions waiting for use. Her eyes narrowed. If there was one place, any place at all, capable of studying and containing Void, this was it. But with his hands burdened with so many Autobots who needed medical assistance, First Aid did not have the time necessary to research that possibility. And forget Perceptor. He too had no time.

Rusti had the time and tenacity but zippo in the know-how department. She needed someone else’s brain. Using her own brain like a phonebook, she sifted through names and occupations and tried to recall who was assigned to what.

It never dawned on Rusti that she shouldn’t have the ability to simply know what capabilities who possessed and their current assignments.

Cyclonus?

She batted her eyes. What about him? Where was he? What was he up to? Rusti tilted her head. For that matter, what was Galvatron up to? She pondered her next move, took to her feet and paced the flatbed. Her movements alerted medical staff and Blue, who about passed the room.

The femme stopped in her tracks, backed up and peered in. "Hey. Whatchya doin’ in here all by your lonesome?"

"Lost in thought," Rusti instantly answered.

"Lost period. Need a little help, young lady?" the femme offered her hand as an elevator and Rusti gratefully accepted.

"Before you go," she called as the femme stepped to the door, "have you seen either Galvatron or Cyclonus?"

Blue peeked over her shoulder strut. "I spotted Cyclonus flying in. I think he aimed for the Sagittarian Mozart."

With a quick thanks, Rusti abandoned the room, hugged the wall along the corridor and exited the building. At the distance, Ultra Magnus and First Aid race toward the building from the Trench Driver.

Something was wrong.

Rather than freeze with a mindless stare, she bolted for the Mozart. Off the battlefield, even the Dinobots counted on Magnus’ predictability: first he’d obtain a report from the floor supervisor in the Quintesson’s science building, report to the Hannibal’s Mark then bulldoze for his own ship.

Boarding the Mozart, out of breath and deftly avoiding all scrutinizing optics, Rusti found her way to the bridge. She almost passed the threshold when Paratron ground patrol Traffik landed a light foot in her path.

Traffik leaned over, hands on kneecaps and threatened with a glare. "This isn’t a place for you."

"I need to talk to Ultra Magnus," she said sternly.

"He isn’t here, for one. Two: he has more important things to do than worry about your problems. Go find someplace to play."

Her turn to glare: "I am not a child. This is important. Now let me through."

"You are a little girl. You are not EDC, you are not someone’s wife or a mother. Go away."

Rusti wanted to tell him she was married to his boss. But she vowed not to use her relationship with Optimus as leverage under any circumstances. She was married to the person of Optimus Prime, not the Autobot leader. Her eyes blazed. "You’re judging me according to my marital status-or lack thereof and whether or not I’ve had a baby?!"

Traffik emitted a low, soft growl. "All adults here are either married and/or-"

"Listen up, you fragmented, backwater, half-written subroutine! My marital status is none of your business. Whether or not I have a baby-"

Magnus’ voice boomed behind her. "Thank you, Traffik that will be all."

Rusti paled, caught name calling. Not that Magnus cared, necessarily; she just didn’t want anyone telling Rodimus-he didn’t need more reasons to razz her. She did not return Traffik’s glare as he passed her. The Paratron stole a final glance at Magnus. "She called me a subroutine," he whined.

Magnus eyed him, his face a blank placard. "Thank you," he returned absently, "That will be all." The Major-general waited until Traffik faded from audio range. "Rusti," he greeted with a lighter tone. "Won’t you come in?"

She followed him onto the bridge and stepped aside as he claimed his chair. "All personnel clear the bridge," he ordered. He did not need to repeat himself. "Except you, Ambient. I need your expertise."

"Aye, sir."

Rusti waited until all other Autobots departed before swallowing her trepidation. "I apologize for the name calling, Ultra Magnus. I guess he got under my skin." she swore she caught the glint of a smile.

"Rusti, anyone here who cannot handle a little name calling has never been trained by me and does not deserve to be on the battlefield. Now, what’s this about?"

She breathed more easily and forced herself to focus. "I need to speak to Cyclonus. I... I lost track of him and Galvatron. I’m sorry. I... I was with Optimus-"

"-when he disappeared," Magnus added.

"Yes."

"And why Cyclonus? Why not Galvatron?"

"I-" she cut herself off, perplexed. "I don’t know. That’s... I mean, Galvatron can speak Quintesson just as well as Cyclonus, right? So-"

"Rusti,"

"Yes?"

"You need to start from the beginning."

"Uhh..." Rusti paused and rewound her head first. As she hesitated, the bridge doors swished open and Cyclonus, Jazz, Perceptor and Doublecross entered. The lady Monsterbot looked harried and worn. She took a seat without Magnus’ permission, bowed over and ran her hands over her helm.

Kup joined them a moment later. He grip tightened along the edges of a battered digipad as he scolded someone from his own ship. "I ain’t worried about some finger-crackin’ nutjob who’s had a bad day. Not my problem. You get that contained or I’ll transfer you to Magnus’ ship." Kup cut communication and tucked the pad into a subspace pocket. "I keep gettin’ excuses from Xylot." The old Autobot took a moment to compose himself. He landed a gaze first at Magnus then Cyclonus then Rusti. "There’s still no sign of Optimus or Rodimus?"

That was the first time Rusti heard about Roddi. "Roddi’s gone, too?"

"And Galvatron," Cyclonus added.

"More than that," Magnus continued, "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker vanished off the Trench Driver."

Perceptor leaned against the bridge’s security console. "I fail to understand how. It’s physically impossible for anything of standard atomic molecular structure to simply pass into nothing. Even subspace pockets leave a neutrino signature after closure. But in every case of disappearance, there are no indications they were ever there."

Cyclonus’ voice remained steady in light of the situation. "Apparently the Virus has abilities we have not yet seen."

"Excuse me," Rusti butt in. She fought against the intimidation factor when all optics landed on her. "Um, Void has the ability to twist and mutate anyone’s shape. So why is disappearance such a surprise?"

"Because," Perceptor replied, "there are no traceable byproduct particles. We do not know where they’ve fallen to."

"We have to stop this thing," Magnus’ voice edged with anger and frustration. "We have to end it once and for all."

"How d’ you plan t’ do that?" Kup snarled. "Short of killing Optimus an’ Roddi, there doesn’t seem to be much of an option. And from what I understand, Sunstreaker’s infected, too."

Rusti took her turn: "if there is any place that is capable of dealing with the Matrix Virus, it’s right here. This place is enormous. And it being a Quintesson R and D factory, chances are we’ll find something."

"Rusti is correct," Cyclonus concurred.

"Then we need a plan," Magnus glanced at Doublecross then Perceptor and finally at Jazz who still said nothing. "We need to draw it out," the Major-general continued. "We need to find its weakness and either destroy it or contain it for good."

Kup softly swore. "Ya can’t destroy something you know nothing about."

Magnus diverted his optics and kept his voice level. "Then what exactly do we know?"

Perceptor answered first: "Apparently it was initially designed to attack the Matrix and by default, Optimus and Rodimus Prime. However, we know nothing of its origins."

Jazz finally added to the conversation: "you know, as I r’call, it ain’t got much of a taste for Decepticons. It doesn’t like Galvatron at all."

"Right!" Magnus pointed at his fellow city commander. "Right. The meeting when the Virus attacked. There was something else... uhh..."

"Cloudstreaker," Ambient said behind Magnus. Everyone turned to her and she left the communications terminal to join the group. "Cloudstreaker did something on the battlefield that contained the Virus somehow and it knew and kept asking her what she did."

Rusti didn’t think her voice carried very far. When she spoke, memories forced her to fight the stone lodged in her throat, "Cody... um..." she cleared her throat, "Cody came up with the initial idea of the blocking chips. They worked for a while. But when Ambassador Koontah pushed time ahead, the chips stopped working."

"Yes," Perceptor concurred. "Because the chips emitted a low frequency shield that switched energy phases to keep the Virus guessing. It was not completely effective, but it did help."

Magnus nodded. "Can you design a chip that could actually trap and contain the Virus, or even something that can destroy it altogether?"

"It depends greatly on Matrix life force frequencies and then tracking the changes from the first encounter until today. It will take time."

"Problem is," Kup countered, "Rodimus has the Matrix and he’s not exactly present and accounted for."

Perceptor and Magnus pointed to Rusti. She smiled sheepishly. Kup lifted his head as though rolling his optics. "Fine, then. I’ll set up a security detail around the medical building and a shorter detail around the Spiral Star."

"Begging your pardon," Cyclonus said, "something like this cannot be done on the Spiral Star. We’re better off using equipment on the space station. Either we set up operations in the science and medical center, preferably away from everyone else or utilize the command center. Which I personally recommend."

"I agree," Magnus immediately interjected. "Perceptor, get yourself a team together. Enlist what you need. Kup, I’m leaving you and Jazz in charge of external operations while we tackle this. Ambient, inform Cloudstreaker she’s assigned to this, too. Jazz... I hate to say this, but I will not get caught off guard again: keep an optic on everyone from the Sabor’s Claw. I’ve already picked up a couple of rumors regarding dissidents. After what we saw earlier, I’ll give no other reason for the Virus to take advantage of a similar situation."

The Major-general took in a deep breath and settled his large optics on Rusti. "I don’t know what to tell you except that I’m sorry. We may have to... terminate Optimus and Rodimus if this cannot be fixed."

"You’ll assign everyone to a death sentence by doing so, Ultra Magnus," Rusti returned deadpan. "But I do not think such measures will be necessary. If there is any information to be found on the Virus anywhere, it’ll be here."

Again Magnus and Perceptor stared at her. "How do you know?" Magnus asked.

Rusti shrugged and shook her head.

***********

While the Autobots prepared to undertake the Virus, Rusti thought it a good point to eat, shower and catch a short nap. Cyclonus followed her everywhere but the ladies room. He held two digipads in his hands, communicating with Cloudstreaker on one and Magnus on the other. As Rusti slept, the Decepticon lieutenant diligently familiarized himself with events regarding the Autobot’s first encounter with the Virus. Cyclonus scrutinized every detail with the precision of a watchmaker.

As Rusti ate, he poured through all news reports, First Aid’s and Perceptor’s personal logs. Half way into Rusti’s meal, Cyclonus set the pads aside and gratefully accepted a flagon of energon from Doublecross. She settled beside him, silent and lost.

Rusti chewed through a hamburger. Her attention drifted out the cafeteria’s entryway, half expecting Rodimus to appear with a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Explain something to me:" Cyclonus said unexpectedly. She nodded in consent. Cyclonus glanced at Doublecross. "How is it that you, a Human, give so much attention to a species which has brought your world so much pain and suffering? Are you not the least bit angry we brought our problems to your people?"

Rusti sipped a lukewarm cup of tea and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "No. Know why?"

"Explain."

"Cuz we’re not that much different. Humans fight and pretend to make peace and fight for stupid reasons and lie about it all in history books. So now we have an invading race who brought good and bad to our planet. Not that much different than one nation or people invading another country or continent. Just at a larger scale. Of course, there’s groups... er... there were groups... who wanted to kick the Autobots off the planet. But you know, you can’t make everyone happy."

"What of Optimus and Rodimus Prime?" Cyclonus added without skipping a beat. "Clearly you have an unusual relationship with them."

Rusti paused, perplexed. "You know, I get asked that a lot. But I don’t know. I just-it’s always been like that. Maybe I’m a freak or something." She ended her sentence with a weak smile.

cyclonus’ optics narrowed slightly. "Why is it that when people encounter something different they label it with such words as ‘weird’ or ‘freak’? Just because something is not commonplace does not justify a hostile attitude, no matter how slight it may be."

"Cuz it’s a deviation from the norm."

Cyclonus smiled ever so lightly. "Normal is relative, Miss Rusti. Keep that in mind." Rusti’s smile strengthened; under that stoic mask, cyclonus was a very thoughtful individual. He accepted people as they were not as he thought they should be.

The digipad in Cyclonus’ right hand beeped for his attention. He thumbed a link on the window, read it carefully then met Rusti’s expectant gaze. "This is unusual," he said quietly. "Bare Anches has received an outside transmission."

"You mean like a phone call?" Cyclonus silently nodded. He stared at the message half a moment before leaving the table. Rusti and Doublecross shadowed his path to the Quintesson’s command/communications center.

Rusti startled when the giant, bomb-resistant doors clang shut behind her. The chamber expanded with greater space than she remembered. Holding her back to the cold door jamb, Rusti beheld the cavernous room with trepidation. Between the array of communications equipment and a scattered assortment of components, tools and other machines, the command center resembled something like a cyberpunk cathedral. But the chamber held no sanctified silence.

Autobots bustled there, there and that way; coming and going as though preparing for battle. Perceptor and First Aid snapped orders at their aids. Magnus divided a communication between two different channels as he settled a heated dispute. Paratron officer Colt approached Magnus with two datatablets and held them at eye-level.

"Basix, I am not going to repeat myself!" Magnus shouted, "what’s done is done and I am not going to release Strikeback just because you can’t deal with internal affairs! Bishop, if I hear one more incident between you and ANYONE on board the Sabor’s Claw OR the Armored Crest, I will personally reassign you to MY ship! You listening to me, soldier? I will not tolerate one more incident ANYWHERE IN THIS FLEET!" Magnus cut communications and glared at Colt. "What is this?" he growled.

"Keepsake and Notch request permission to transfer to the Gabriel Genesis, sir."

"DENIED." Magnus did not raise his voice, but the finality of his decision emboldened the answer.

"But, sir, the Sunset Kummya has more than enough shipbots to keep things going smoothly-" Colt swallowed his argument and quailed before Magnus who served him a death glare. "Aye, sir."

"Dropping the basin!" Fineliner from the Razor Lady shot three large clamps in the floor. People and equipment scattered out the radius when the sixty-foot circumference dropped by twelve feet. The building itself immediately compensated for the change and unfolded a series of steps leading into the crater. Two engineering assistants jumped in and searched for power outlets along the floor. They found the outlets and fastened large caps over the source. From there, they plugged in large power lines which forked off. Other assistants connected those lines into heavy scanning and other medical equipment before lowering the machines into the crater.

Watching Autobots coordinate work efforts did not surprise Rusti. But the speed and precision always amazed her. When the same workers brought in two long flatbeds and lowered them into the crater, she realized they were preparing for Optimus and Rodimus and her heart hurt. While Autobot femme Blue coordinated adjustments and activation codes Cyclonus searched for the swiftest, clearest path to the communication boards. He stepped off the entry dias and rounded, passed and ducked workers like an expert dancer. Rusti didn’t dare follow, fearing she’d end up road kill more than once.

Cyclonus synchronized his digipad to the science station’s communications relay equipment and ran a frequency sweep. At first the computer denied access on all channels. Cyclonus adjusted three frequency readouts, changed the language formats and reset the distance ratio. An alien female’s face blinked onto every large view screen and her voice boomed from corner to corner. "...at every instance, would-be rescuers have been targeted for execution."

All activity froze at the news reporter’s audio-visual appearance. All eyes and optics fixated on the screens. Magnus glowered at the workers but decided to let them watch.

"The Quintessons have successfully enslaved the entire Earthen species as they build their new warp gate. But the most disturbing news comes from Cybertron."

Another face appeared: an alien unknown even to the Autobots. Its colorful, red and yellow blotted skin covered a crustacean-like visage. Its large rounded eyes projected a semblance of kindness. "There is no doubt to the Quintesson’s guilt in this matter. The Council of Zha’tat’Tauch has agreed to support any survivors left in wake of the Quintesson/Inouxian invasion."

The lady newscaster’s face returned to the screen. Her dark hair waved in a breeze. "There is no definite proof of survivors at this point, Ambassador. Even those who fled Earth-refugees-have disappeared from everyone’s radar. Some say they might have even fallen into a vortex, lost forever."

The alien ‘ambassador’ nodded. "While I cannot comment on the situation regarding refugees, I can tell you we sent a number of volunteers into the new Quintesson territories posing as business operators. They have graciously reported back stating there is an underground movement. But developments are slow. The more troublesome reports are those that speak of the Quintesson activity. They and their allies, the Inoux, are currently dividing and disassembling the factory-planet of Cybertron. We believe they are preparing to send it through the gate."

Rusti’s stomach dropped. Not one person moved or spoke; the news hit like a fatal blow.

The camera zoomed out, revealing the news reporter and the alien ambassador facing one another from a short distance. In the background loomed a large dome building hemmed with red shrubs and golden cypress trees. The reporter smoothed her hair against the breeze. "Do you think they honestly have the capabilities to send an entire planet through a warp gate?"

The alien shrugged. "The universe is comprised of naught but possibilities. Who knows... if the great and mightily fearful Unicron can die, is anything impossible?"

The reporter smiled and faced the camera. "Reporting from Aow Tigh in Sunlight Square, I’m Avaline of Paraox for IGN news. Malaver?"

All screens went blank and a series of letters in Quintesson writ flashed red. The message ended. No words conveyed the somber atmosphere. Two Autobots dropped the equipment in-hand. Their emotions overrode their stabilizers and they raced out the room. Another followed shortly thereafter. Everyone else froze with faces fallen in shock and grief. It made Rusti think of a playground of children who just received news of their dead parents.

The monitors above them flickered and a high-pitched sound whined before it snapped and lowered in tone. Lines on the screens scrolled up then down, blinked in and out before one screen closer to Ultra Magnus faded into static. Magnus stepped back and ordered Blaster to the scene. Several Autobots abandoned the room and others took cautious steps back. Light from the monitor intensified and a voice seeped through as if it were far away.

Rusti approached; her curiosity overrode her sensibilities. She did not move past Ultra Magnus, however.

"Is this a Matrix memory?" someone asked. The question hung in the air, unanswered.

The voice’s volume increased until it screamed. Then a Quintesson’s Face of Hate smacked against the monitor. The room breathed with a collective gasp and half the occupants fled when one of the Quint’s tentacles phased through the monitor.

Rusti stepped back as Galvatron and Cyclonus drew their weapons, ready to blow anything to pieces.

"Ogkubutho!" the Quintesson tried to slip another tentacle past the monitor’s physical barrier but it uselessly smacked the screen. "Ogkubutho!" it repeated. The Quint shifted to its Face of Greed and tried to bite the invisible barrier.

"Come no closer!" Magnus ordered in Ancient Autobot. "We will shoot to kill!"

"Wraaag! You must help me!"

Rusti batted her eyes, wondering if she heard the Quintesson correctly, or if she imagined she understood. She stepped back again, too mystified by the event to run off. Then she recalled the other Quintesson she ran into before the trial. "Magnus!" she called. "I think it’s being hunted."

"Rusti, leave the room," the Major-general ordered.

"It’s the Virus! Void is chasing the Quintesson!"

She did not need to repeat it. The view screen cracked and shattered. The Quintesson plopped out and smacked the flooring. Its tentacles floundered and flailed for purchase while the monster screamed in terror.

A black forked tongue flickered and licked the air before a long tapered leg slid out and tested the environment. Cyclonus changed the settings on his gun and shot the monitor four times before an insentient screech chilled the air. The leg vanished, the eerie light died and the room fell quiet. The Quintesson writhed and managed to shove itself upright; its energy ‘drive system’ sputtered until the Quintesson stabilized itself.

"Pakal ag atal. Dor..." its faces rotated until its Face of Death laid eyes on Ultra Magnus. "Mraw poz... Autobot."

Rusti shivered but surged forward, unafraid. Her eyes burned cold. "Dak’maht," she said without knowing what she meant. "Ap’dalag nor ruva."

The Quintesson swirled its Face of Death at her and its dark eyes glistened predatorily. "How dare you speak at me, fleshling. I am as above you-"

"Silence, Quintesson," Cyclonus ordered. "Your unpropitious behavior will not be tolerated. What is all this? How did you get trapped in your own computer systems?"

The Quintesson hesitated and shifted faces until Greed gazed upon Cyclonus with freakish eyes. "An all-too successful experiment forced many of us to take drastic measures to survive the resulting disaster. Now what is this... thing that slaughtered nine of us? What abomination have you brought to us?"

At first Cyclonus thought the Quintesson meant Rusti. But the Quintesson’s attention strayed from the Decepticon to the monitor from which the five-faced beast emerged. "It is a virus," Cyclonus replied. The Autobots say it is a virus that exists and devours Matrix life-force energies. We believe it is born of Quintesson science."

"There are no energy signatures to indicate it is of Quintesson origin," the freak answered evenly. "Madru Soymair took readings of the monster before he was ripped to shreds. The creature appears to have a lower level of intellect. Yet... yet it holds no reasoning power."

Rusti clenched a fist as anger surged to the surface. "I don’t think you heard what he said," she paused as the freak switched its Face of Death toward her. "It’s a virus that indwells the Matrix-something your ilk unleashed upon us."

"It is not our issue. We are not concerned regarding problems faced by the rebel slaves."

Magnus made a retort of his own and ordered all unnecessary staff out the room. Rusti paid no attention. She spotted Trevor standing behind Ultra Magnus. The space station’s personna stared at the Quintesson as security moved their new prisoner into an energy cage. Trevor turned his attention to Rusti, sent her a small smile before disappearing then reappearing beside her.

Rusti blinked but said nothing.

"He is lying." Trevor said simply.

Rusti nodded and winced when pain compressed her brain matter. "Not sure if the Quintessons are capable of telling anything other than lies."

Trevor shrugged. "Well, they can’t lie on their science reports."

Magnus heard Rusti’s comment and signed Blue’s digipad. "You’re right," he said to the young woman. "Are you feeling alright, Rusti?"

"Erm... yeah. Just a slight headache."

Trevor elbowed her. "You need to tell him the Quintesson is one of the surgeons... or was."

Rusti gave the projection a second glance. "A surgeon? Here at Bare Anches? What was his name?"

"Who’s name?" Magnus asked as he communicated with someone else on another pad.

"Um..."

Trevor glanced at their new prisoner. "Him?" he nodded toward the Quint.

"Yeah," Rusti answered.

"No," Magnus remarked. "Who are you talking about, Rusti? Name of what?"

"The surgeon," Rusti replied.

"Rysar Phayron-Zeta. Eighth Class." Trevor rolled the name out almost like a song.

"What surgeon?" Magnus asked, confused.

Rusti’s face squinted with puzzlement. "Um, Trevor said that the Quint here is a surgeon-"

"Eighth Class." Trevor added.

"Eighth Class... whatever. And its name is Rysar Phayron-"

"His," Trevor corrected again.

"What? How do you know it’s a he?" Rusti challenged.

Magnus lowered his digipad. "What are you talking about, Rusti?"

Trevor winked. "All Quintessons are ‘he’. They even said so."

Rusti frowned, annoyed. "Trevor."

"Who?"

Rusti sighed, lightly exasperated. "Trevor," she repeated more sternly. "He’s the psychic projection made by the computer-er-the complex here on Bare Anches."

Magnus’s voice sharpened with the same level of annoyance. "What?"

"Trevor," Rusti said one more time.

"Where?" Magnus asked.

"Here." she scowled when Trevor waved at Magnus. "Don’t do that. He can’t see you."

"Rusti," Magnus growled.

"It’s not a game," the young lady quickly added. "The building-the complex here-communicates with me by means of a psychic projection and calls itself Trevor." She watched as Magnus’ annoyed expression lifted into puzzlement. "It’s just like the ships," she added. "I can hear them but here, the complex communicates with me through a psychic projection."

Magnus stared, dumbfounded. His lip components moved but he did not speak for several seconds. "You make me glad I am not Human, Rusti," he finally said.

Her shoulders slumped. "Wait," Magnus mentally back-tracked. "Did you say the Quintesson worked here as a member of the staff?"

Rusti wanted to yell. "Yes." she said, her voice terse. "Trevor said the Quintesson’s name is Rysar Phayron-Zeta. Eighth Class. Whatever that means. And he was a surgeon-"

"Come with me," Magnus ordered. "Let’s see if it’ll talk."

Trevor pointed toward the Quintesson. "HE!" he said, "It’s a HE. As in all the plumbing is on the outside!"

Rusti glared. "It doesn’t have any plumbing," she snarled.

Trevor laughed. "Yeah, it does. You just don’t know how to read Quintesson anatomy. Just ‘cuz it doesn’t have legs doesn’t mean it..." Trevor read Rusti’s expression and shrugged. "Never mind."

The Quintesson laid eyes on Magnus and two of its tentacles crossed like a set of spaghetti-string arms. "Congratulations, Autobot. You have yourself a prisoner. A pity I will reveal nothing."

Magnus stood before the energon cage and realized the room once again fell silent and still of activity. He glanced from one side to the other. "What are you all standing around for?" he yelled. "Get cracking! There’s work to be done!" Satisfied with everyone’s renewed vigor, he spun back to the Quintesson with a mask devoid of emotion. "I don’t give a damn about your secrets," the Major-general snarled. "I want you to help us deal with the Matrix Virus."

"Freedom, first."

"No deal." Magnus scanned the room and spotted Blaster. He switched to an internal comline and caught the officer’s optics.

A moment later, Blaster wove his way around workers and equipment. He approached Magnus and Rusti with a broad smile. "You’re caller Number One, Mags m’man! Lay yer requests on the line!"

"Get me Cloudstreaker, Blaster. I think she might be able to help us attract and contain the Virus here. We’ll use the Quintesson as bait." Blaster flipped a thumbs-up and turned away. The Quintesson let loose its folded tentacles and closed the distance between itself and Magnus.

"Explain yourself, Autobot!"

Magnus leaned forward. "No."

"Sir?" Cloudy reported beside Magnus and handed him her digipad.

But Magnus gently rejected the object. "Do you recall that meeting we had on Cratis when the Virus came at you?"

She fell deathly quiet, bowed her head and her visor darkened. "Aye, sir." she said softly.

Magnus folded his arms. "Remind me again what happened."

Cloudstreaker lost her vocal processor. "Uhhh..." she lost herself in his optics but regained her senses when Rusti hissed something to someone. "Um, the Virus asked me about spaces. I’m guessing it was confused."

"You did something that confused it," Magnus added. "Do you think you can do that again?"

"Uuuuhhm..." Cloudstreaker struggled to recall the war with the Decepticons on Cratis. "I think so? I just need a power source-"

The unmistakable sound of cracking glass forced everyone to duck for cover. Three monitors burst from within and a black substance dripped from the broken monitors, over the computer consoles and onto the floor. Cyclonus, Blaster and Magnus all held weapons at the ready. They clocked the room, scanning up and down. Rusti saw it first. The Virus rose up from the floor between the plates. Fear caught her voice as it loomed behind Cyclonus.

Void’s tail snapped in the air before it screamed. All Autobots held their audio sensors. Cyclonus whipped around and unintentionally-but automatically-punched the Virus in the head.

At any other time his action might have been funny. Void recoiled and staggered like a drunken spider. It regained footing and screamed at Cyclonus.

Magnus couldn’t think, didn’t take time to plan his attack. He shot at the Virus. It squealed, snapped its tail and struck a nearby worker. Magnus fired again and Void leapt over Cyclonus and rammed into Magnus like an oversized bull. Magnus slammed into the energon cage and roared in agony. The electrical field held his bulk until gravity tugged the Major-general. Unconscious, he slumped to the floor, smoldering and overheated. The Virus screeched again and tried to ram the cage. The Quintesson inside squealed in fear and pressed as close as he could to the other end without touching the grid.

Cloudstreaker gripped Cyclonus’ arm. "I can contain the Virus, but it means the Quintesson will escape."

"I’ll handle the derelict." he changed the settings on his laser rifle then nodded when ready.

Void skittered around the energon cage like a dog trying to get at a steak dinner. The Virus slipped its forked tongue between the grid’s electrical lines and hissed. The Quintesson hugged the other side and rotated as the Virus chased him around and around. Cloudstreaker took an internal reading of the energon cage. The capacity was there, but the cage vibrated on an electron charge. If the cage kept the Virus out, most likely it would keep the thing in.

Void shrieked in frustration and rammed its faceless head against the cage. No effect. That made Cloudstreaker nervous. The Virus backed up a few feet and prepared to ram into the Quintesson’s cell again. Cloudy took that moment and drew energy off the cage and around Void.

The Virus screamed and bucked against the energy flow. Cloudstreaker staggered when the recoil hit her. She did not release her hold, however, and grafted the flow to the communication’s environmental controls.

Sensing the change in energy flow, the Virus screeched again and clawed at the field. Its long tail snapped and cracked at the floor and the field alike.

"I can’t hold it!" Cloudstreaker grunted against greater recoil.

Cyclonus shot the Quintesson unconscious then caught the femme as she fell forward. The energy field collapsed as Void bucked and thrashed against it. The monster screeched and rammed into a nearby Autobot. The poor Autobot cried out and tried to roll out of the way but Void had picked its victim and it pounced and tore at the poor fellow with hideous teeth and sharp legs.

Cyclonus shot at it three and four times before the Virus abandoned its toy. It stamped the flooring like a wild horse, arched its head and hissed.

"It’s not working!" Cyclonus shouted above the Virus’ tantrum. "It won’t respond to any settings."

Cloudstreaker gasped as Void aimed for them. Those Autobots who remained ran for safety. Cloudy drew energy from the lighting and shot up a flat-glass field between them and Void. "It’s not going to hold!" she staggered when Void slammed against the shield. "Cyclonus, use your own power! You’re on a negative proton alignment!"

Void crashed through the electric shield and slammed into her. Cloudstreaker flew hard and smashed into the tractor beam control consol. The Virus turned to Cyclonus and roared in victory.

Cyclonus rerouted controls from his alt mode and shot the beast’s head. Void whimpered in confusion. Cyclonus fired again and dared a step forward.

Void staggered under the attack and backed away. It whimpered and sang the pathetic song of injury. It tripped backward over Magnus’ prone form. Cyclonus shot it in the chest. The Virus flopped on all fours and sank into a crevice in the floor plating.

The room fell silent.