Making Things Right

Suddenly he felt a prickle along the back of his neck, and the wolf peered around the clearing… something didn’t seem right… something felt decidedly… wrong. But he couldn’t put his finger on what, were the stars shining a little less brightly, the wind blowing a little more quietly, the fire burning just a bit dimmer and cooler. Looking at his companions he saw that Timber and several others were also looking around nervously, while others seemed oblivious to the change.

The clearing seemed to grow even darker and Timber shuddered, as the darkened fire inexplicably seemed to be casting deeper shadows, shadows that twisted and twirled and whirled about in some grotesque dance. Timber’s mistrust of the night increased, Querion was on his feet his eyes scanning the woods, the shadows danced faster, twirling, spinning, contorting, reaching out… a cold wind seemed to howl through the trees, a dark form darted by overhead with an insane predator’s snarl, tendrils of darkness following it like wraiths….

Following it through the forest…

Following it towards the city…

Suddenly the clearing was as it was only moments before, Timber found herself panting in fear, her eyes darting left and right. Querion and some others had that same startled look on their faces. Those who had sensed nothing looked at their wild-eyed companions in confusion and concern. Slowly, Timber’s breathing returned to normal, and the sense of terror lifted from around the campfire, though the nagging fear would not leave, and even those who had not experienced anything were spooked by their teammates, and watched the shadows closely.

***
The young transformer girl; named Saphira hurried towards home. She had just left the hospital having grabbed a C.R. salve for her boyfriend; Canis, whose wounds still chaffed him. Her parents would be furious if they knew were she was going. The Predacon police, who had quickly discovered that to maintain the cooperation of the people of Endport, they had to deal with some of the more social as opposed to criminal problems of the populace, had wisely suggested that her boyfriend spend the evening with a friend as opposed to his parents, whom he had had another fight with. Of course the fact that it wasn’t anything criminal didn’t mean anything to HER parents, if the police were involved Canis was certainly no good… and she never had explained those bruises.

Of course she couldn’t tell them the reason that Canis’s father had called the cops was because he’d found out that Canis had been hitting her. But it wasn’t fair of him of him to be so hard on him… Canis had a temper… he couldn’t help that… it was her job to help him… he needed her… no one else understood him… so what if he smacked her around sometimes… it was her fault… and he’d grow out of it… wouldn’t he… besides her parents couldn’t do anything about it anyway… Saphira and Canis loved each other… Canis told her so all the time… she was so lucky to have someone like Canis… it would be nice to have Canis hold her in his arms… it was so cold out all of a sudden… maybe tonight they could just hold each other… and cuddle… and Canis wouldn’t be drunk on inhibitors or high on LOAD… and want to…

Suddenly Saphira stopped dead in her tracks; there… ahead of her… was that freak from so many nights ago, standing under a street lamp. He seemed different somehow, he had been dark before but he seemed darker now… he almost seemed to drip darkness… what was he doing? Holding out his hand to her? Saphira felt a sudden surge of fear, irritation and disgust, this was the brute that had tried to hurt poor Canis… who had never even given him a chance to explain himself… who had tried to fight there love… she spun on her heels and walked the other way.

She never even heard him coming, suddenly the dark figure was in front of her, tendrils of darkness snaking out from him, surrounding her, his eyes blazing with an unholy light, she felt a terrible pain in her chest and screamed as she was lifted off the ground, a multitude of shadowy arms holding her, squeezing tighter, biting into her metallic flesh, she struggled to get free her screams muffled by something covering her mout… and then the pain vanished and she suddenly found herself staring into those burning eyes, blazing a sickly malevolent green, unable to move, totally paralysed she felt herself… her spark maybe… being pulled forward, out of her body, falling forward, forward into those eyes, she was falling, falling, falling down… always falling down… falling towards… a light… a glowing blue light, what was it? A spark? A spark that burned and seemed to reach out to her… begging her… to what?

Understand?

Suddenly something was in the way… something was blocking out the light, keeping her away from her destination…. a terrible black shadowy thing, a hungry thing, a thing that clawed at her, tore at her, pulling her apart tearing her to pieces devouring her spark as it screamed.

***

Relic dropped the broken, mangled body of the young transformer; her eyes dark and her mouth open in a silent scream. Tears stung his eyes as he stared incomprehensibly at the dead girl.

“Why… why…?” he asked in the echoing halls of his mind.

“She rejected you… she didn’t want to understand you… I understand you… I love you… don’t worry my love… don’t worry my pet,” his lover’s voice assured him.

“Why did she turn away? She seemed so close…” Relic asked hopelessly.

“Yes… she was… I wish she wanted to know… but she didn’t… she was heartless and cruel… she hurt you… she turned away right when she could have known… I know… I understand… I love you…” the voice purred.

“I know… your right…” Relic agreed regretfully, nodding sadly as the darkness flowed around him like a living thing.

“Don’t worry love… we’ll find someone… someone who wants to understand… we’ll keep trying love… we’ll keep looking… keep hunting…” his lover assured him, the voice inside his head a gentle coaxing caress.

Relic cast one last look at the body, and the mech-fluid that stained the ground and walls of the surrounding buildings… it would be found quickly in the morning… it would be in the papers and on the news… something nagged at him about that… something about never leaving evidence… something he should remember… from his past… why couldn’t he remember… why couldn’t he think straight… but it didn’t matter… all that mattered was his lover… she cared about him… she wanted him to move now…

Relic walked off, the darkness clinging to him and dancing around him, as he moved towards the shadows. The mech-fluid leaving a trail on the ground as it dripped from his claws. The trail of mech-fluid drops ending abruptly as he truly vanished into the shadows.

***

As the night progressed everyone in the resistance sat just a little nearer the campfire and a little closer together, speaking in hushed voices and always at least sitting with one other person. The oppressive sense of fear had lifted, but no one was comfortable with the night, even Catfish seemed somewhat subdued. When the fire began to dim Timber laid out her bedroll in between Querion, who lay on his back, looking up through the tree branches at the friendly stars, and Catfish, who slept with cherubic innocence next to Rita. The watchfulness of the wolf and the unquestionable innocence and goodness of the child making her feel curiously safe. Nevertheless when she woke up the next morning, she would find one hand wrapped around Catfish’s shoulder, and the other tightly holding Querion’s palm.]

Querion slowly released his hand from the warm clasp of Timber's, and got up to his feet, trying as hard as possible to keep silent, not wishing to awake the others. He strolled over to a nearby puddle of water, cupping his hands to keep the cold liquid in. With a backward motion he splashed the water over his face, revelling in the chilly sting that perked his spirits. The wolf-bot could feel droplets trickling down the sides of his face, dropping back into the puddle to cause a ripple. He took in a deep breath, and stretched his back, feeling refreshed and alert. And alert he had to be, if the stranger from last night were to return.

He turned to look at the sleeping Maximals, so peaceful, so oblivious to the happenings around them. Querion had not slept the whole night, for the strong sense of foreboding was too great, the tug of responsibility too strong. He couldn't leave his friends unguarded. The Maximal scratched the back of his head, as he treaded softly back to the campfire. His heart was heavy with their failure, their fall at the hands of the Predacons. There would be time for vengeance... but not now. This stranger, he wasn't just passing through. There was something sinister, shadowing something far greater than petty political struggles. Far more destructive.

Something jerked Querion from his musings, something unnatural. He looked around, turning his head slowly, straining his ears to reach for the slightest sound... There was none. No chirping of birds, no cry of foxes, no rustling of leaves. Silence.
Something was very wrong.

Buckshot never really had friends. Drinking buddies, cell mates, girlfriends, but no serious friends. It never bothered him, and didn't now, but what the hell- this could be fun. Interesting Bots here. Querion seemed like a good guy, Catfish was a prime nutjob, Rhapsody wasn't a bad leader, Rita seemed okay, Weede was just weird, and Buckshot was definitely impressed with Timber.

Upon hearing Rhapsody's announcement, he glanced at her and grinned.

"Hey...I'll stay with ya. I scratched your back, you scratched my back, I'll stay and help you out. Last night was some fragging ACTION."

--------------

"ZZZZZZZZZ...."

Weede lay snoring on the ground. His optics blinked rapidly- he was dreaming. He snorted and rolled over.

"ZZZZZ- snort- dude....parrots! Parrots flying through the air..."

Weede tossed and turned.

"I see a river of blood...no, wait, it's beer, dude! Yes, ha hah ha!"

Weede's hands dug into the grass and he snored into the ground.

"Pipe mold...must have pipe mold to see beyond...ZZZZZZZZ..."

Most other bots would take it as Fate, or a sign from above, that they were in the one room in the district left standing after a massive explosion. But for Penji, it was just another day. With the minor caveat, of course, that it was his first day of freedom in over a stellar cycle. He walked out among the dead and dying guards, troops, and whatnot, and let out his evil, insidious, irresistably cute laugh. "BRAWK! Brawk! brawk brawk brawk!"

He saw a few trucks going off in the distance. "New friends?" Transforming to his somewhat faster robot mode, he followed after them.

Late that night, those awake at the encampment could hear a sound approaching..

"brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk.."

coming nearer..

"brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk.."

until finally it was practically right on top of them.

"brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk. brawk, brawk. BRAWK!"

A four foot tall penguin had waddled into camp and collapsed in exhaustion.

Solarflare had been up for atleast an hour but wasn't going to move. He woke up about 2 feet from switchblade and was simply watching her sleep. She had seemed to go through more then any other of the maximals and even her sleep seemed uncomferatble. The finch thought for a moment at exactly what he was doing and thought it was a bit weird but could not find the strenght to move or stop looking at her. "She is absolutly beautiful." A thought popped into his mind that he hadn't thought about the courier before. He had amired her and sure cared for her a bit but that thought had never crossed his mind. "Slag." He thought as he realized that he had fallen in love with coruier.

He didn't ever want to do that again and he knew that she didn't care for him. He was nothing to her and he asked himself how. How could he love someone that didn't want to much to do with him. Maybe he was completly wrong about her but he knew this would end in heartbreak. He sighed and just contiued watching her sleep, wondering what he would say when she woke up.

-----------------
Mimi had slept close to corvus, she had felt that feeling last night and it terrified her. At one point she had her arms around him cause the fear of the past was coming back triggered by that feeling. No she was alssep and didn' want to be let go.

"I am Pachoula, I am a Maximal security officer who was sent here to examine you and the Predacons. Fearing that all their little secrets would be uncovered the Preds killed all of the crew and the team I was the only survivor, I have come to join you because as far as the council is concerned I have been destroyed either that or I have been marked as a traitor as all of you have because I haven't been able to use the special frequency which was set up for this mission which only a select few know of.
I have come in peace but if you would have nothing to do with me I will walk away and bother you no more."

As she finished she waited for the startled bots reaction and answer with a grim look on her faceplate.

"I'm with you," Querion said, walking up to Rhapsody, "but no talk about leaving yet. Not until we beat the slagging Preds." The wolf-bot delibrately muttered a curse, something he had picked up from Rita, much to the surprise of Buckshot. He did not say anything about the feeling he felt last night; it had piqued his interest, but it was something he hoped he could investigate, alone. There was something familiar about yesterday, but he just couldn't figure out what.

"Besides, I kinda like this mudball," he continued, playing with the wet grass with a foot. He took a deep breath, relaxing briefly as rich smells assailed his nose. There was a primal sense of freedom here, something that appealed to his beast side, something missing in the cold world of Cybertron. Such lush forests, such intriguing flora and fauna, but the silence... Querion clenched his fists, and looked around again, his senses peaked.

Silence.

Secondly, Scope thought about Rhapsody's proposal, stay or go. Either way Scope would be leaving this planet soon, but would he continue on with the Maximals or not? The reflexive response was no... but a past version of himself urged otherwise.

Scope tries not to dwell on the subject. Instead he converts to beast mode and takes flight. Perhaps a nice flight would clear his mind.

“So, how’d you and the insane fuzor meet up?”

Rita didn’t respond immediately as she leaned against a rock beside Burnout, staring up at the stars. Catfish was curled up beside her in beast mode, making a soft whistling sound that was a bit like snoring, but much more pleasant. She sat there for a moment, just enjoying being in the company of her child-like friend and her older, slightly different friend.

“We were locked up in the same cell in a high security prison.” She answered finally, “My ship had gotten captured and Fish’d just wandered in and decided to get caught. We played games and toyed with the guards until we got bored. Then Catfish hacked the system and we busted out the entire complex.” Rita grinned, “THAT was fun. How did you pair up with Retro?”

“Long story there.” Burnout replied, glancing down at his partner who was also asleep.

“It’s a long night.” Rita pointed out.

“True, but we’re going to need to sleep through some of it if we’re going to be functional tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Rita said, there was another pause.

It wasn’t clear who had initiated it, but quite suddenly they were kissing. Passionately and fiercely on the verge of being violent. They appeared to be about to fall into the next level when Rita put up a hand and moved it between them.

“If we keep this up neither of us are going to get ANY sleep.” She said pragmatically.

“But…” Burnout cut himself off and instead of disagreeing just muttered something unflattering about women in general. Rita grinned at this.

“We can get a room once the heat’s off. Sleep well.”

---------------------------------

“It’s a PENGUIN!”

Catfish announced after five minutes of staring fixedly at the new arrival. She moved like lighting to stand beside Penji, still staring fixedly at him. The fact of the matter is that giant penguins, even evil cannibalistic penguins, are just plain COOL.

“RITA!” Catfish yelled, turning around and zipping away, “It’s a PENGUIN!”

Switchblade awoke from fitful dreams, fraught with hopelessness and terror, to find Solarflare staring at her. As soon as the gold finch realized that she was returning his gaze he seemed to stiffen, but managed to keep himself from jerking his head away as though he were guilty of something. Inwardly, Switchblade groaned.

“Good morning.” Solarflare greeted her.

“’Morning.” Switchblade replied in a tired tone of voice. Even to her own ears she sounded hoarse and worn out. The courier shook her head slowly.

“Did you get some good sleep?” Solarflare asked.

“No.” came the simple response. “The entire night, all I had was nightmare after nightmare.” She snorted. “Usually I don’t even dream that much. But last night…” she tried to move and found her limbs sluggish and unresponsive. “Last night, I got very little rest.” she finished. Solarflare nodded his head in sympathy. Switchblade looked around the tight little camp at the other ‘bots, usually clustered in small groups (those that were up that is) and discussing something in low almost hurried tones.

“What’s going on?” Switchblade asked, dragging her stiff form to a sitting position beside the other ‘bot.

“Oh, Rhapsody wants any of us that are willing to jump planet and go to Cybertron and clear our names. I mean, I knew we weren’t making a whole lot of headway here, but if she’s ready to throw in the towel, we must be worse off than I thought.”

“Cybertron?” Switchblade repeated hollowly. The beginnings of a smile briefly touched the corners of her mouth. “That’s the first real good news I’ve heard in a long time. It’s about time I got off this rock and got on with my life.”

Solarflare’s expression clouded for a moment. “What do you mean?” he said. “I thought you wanted to see all of the Preds gone from Endport.”

“I do.” Reassured Switchblade. “But like you said before, this is going nowhere.”

“I didn’t say that, it’s just what I gathered from the way Rhapsody was acting.” Solarflare interrupted.

“It amounts to the same thing. We’re hopelessly outnumbered…hopelessly outgunned.” Switchblade drew her Stopper Pistol from its place at her belt and slid out the cartridge. She turned it so that Solarflare could see what was inside. “This is my last clip of ammo for this thing.” she continued. “Half full. After last night I’ve got two throwing blades left, and a Vibro-Knife with the circuitry practically melted together. I’m bruised, I’m beaten, and if it comes down to me deciding between Endport and walking away with my life, I’m going to walk away. And that’ll be it.” After a few seconds she added, “The Universe is a big place, and it can’t all be overrun with Preds in my lifetime.”

Solarflare’s shoulders slumped imperceptibly, but he kept a straight face. “I can’t make you stay,” he said, “But will you at least go as far as Cybertron?”

Switchblade shrugged. “Maybe. It depends on how much attention we’ll attract when we land. No one wants a high profile courier. I do want to be able to work after this.”

Solarflare nodded silently. Maybe it would be for the better, having her just up and leave. It would spare him some emotional grief that was for sure. But still…he wasn’t sure that he wanted her to leave. Maybe if he…

“Switchblade,” he began. The badger ‘bot looked up from the ground at her feet.

“What?” she replied.

Solarflare paused for a moment, and then, painfully, decided not to say what he had originally intended. “Did you notice the new arrivals?”

Switchblade looked across the camp where she could see an unfamiliar pair of ‘bots, at least one of which seemed to have a penguin Beast Mode of all things. “No.” she answered. “What’s their story?”

“I don’t know.” Solarflare said at last. “I don’t know.”

It was nearly mid morning, with the sun still continuing to climb in the skies over Endport, when the Resistance assembled to hear Rhapsody speak. Everyone was, by now, awake. Even Weede had managed to rouse himself and stumble across to the small open area next to the fire pit. He stood with the others who had already gathered, waiting and wondering, what their leader had to say. If it was anything like her last speech, it couldn’t be good.

The Resistance continued to wait an air of nervous anticipation in the air. Off to the side of the gathering area stood Rhapsody in conversation with the often anti social courier Switchblade, who had shown up a few missions back. Even from a distance it was clear that they were arguing about something. Switchblade at last seemed to give in to the songbird, nodding her head in reluctant approval. Rhapsody smiled and moved over to where the bulk of her troops stood waiting. Switchblade only glowered and moved to the rear of the assembled group.

“My friends,” Rhapsody began, “As I’ve said before, I believe that it is time we left Endport. Though it pains me to say it, I don’t believe that we have the numbers necessary to turn back the tide of our enemies. Maybe we did once, but not now. There are too many of them and too few of us.” Rhapsody paused a moment. “Primus,” she said, “Sometimes I wonder if we ever did have enough to pull it off. Things happened so fast…One minute the city was free, the next, overrun by Predacons.” A look of profound sorrow crossed her face. “I’m not suggesting that we give up here. Merely fall back, regroup, and seek assistance from higher powers. The Maximal government if we can manage it, though it seems that they have been less than supportive of late.” That, Rhapsody thought, was the understatement of the year. “So, what I am proposing, as most of you know, is a retreat to Cybertron. There we can plead our case and let our side of the story be heard. Perhaps we can then return to Endport with greater numbers. But…” here the songbird’s eyes seemed to light up a bit, her posture become more upright. “Before we go I want to leave the people responsible for the occupation a little going away present. One that may very well help us in the long run if we do it right.”

“I’d like to leave ‘em a swift kick in the cod plate is what!” growled Buckshot, leaning easily on his baseball bat.

“And you’ll get your chance.” Rhapsody replied, “But maybe not in the way you might expect. This evening, just after midnight, I want to make one last run at the Predacons. I will be very dangerous, probably the most dangerous thing we’ve done to date, but I believe that the possible pay off warrants the risk.”

“What is it?” chimed Wraith from the middle of the group.

“Myself, and any of you that wish to join, I won’t force you, are going to break into the main Predacon Headquarters in Endport, and take out the top ‘bots in their command structure. Preferably their as of yet unseen commander. We don’t know who he is, but we do know that he is a brilliant tactician, and thus should be our main target. I think we’d like to avoid the Generals we’ve been fighting recently, but I won’t complain if we take a few of them in the bargain as well. Hopefully it will cripple the occupational force long enough for us to elicit aid from outside sources.” She looked about the group seeing various Resistance members nod their heads in approval. “This will be a covert mission.” she stipulated. “We want to be in and out as quick as possible, with the least amount of trouble. I want very little fighting this time guys, but that doesn’t mean you should let someone go if they get in your way. After we succeed… If we succeed, we’ll all make our way back as quick as possible to Burnout’s ship, in which we’ll make our escape.” Rhapsody searched the crowd for Burnout, finding him hovering close to Rita and Catfish. “Burnout, would you please tell a little about your ship, especially the coordinates, so that everyone is clear on where we’re supposed to go once we complete our mission?”

“Sure.” Burnout said. “Just one thing quick: How are we going to get in. I’m pretty sure that Relic was the only professional assassin among us, and he’s mysteriously disappeared.” Across the mass of Resistance members, Querion shifted his footing uneasily.

Rhapsody smiled back at him and replied, “Switchblade is going to help us with that. She has an outstanding appointment at their base that she has graciously agreed to keep.”

“What’s she going to do?” Spyder asked skeptically, “Walk in through the front door?”
Switchblade straightened and nodded. “Yes,” she said, “That’s exactly what I plan to do. I’ve got a delivery to make, and one the Preds won’t like when it gets delivered.” She drew a small silver canister from the back of her belt and hefted it in her hand. Catfish perked up, remembering the goodies inside. “You know,” Switchblade continued, “I did come to Endport for a reason.”

“If it wold make you feel safer,” Rhapsody interjected, “We will also run a team at a smaller less obvious entrance. I’ll warn you in advance, however, all points of entry will be heavily guarded, not just the front. Odds are we will be found out sooner or later, so it makes no difference which door we enter through. As I hinted at before, we’ll have a rather limited window of opportunity for this mission. All the more reason to be very quick and quiet about what we’re doing. With luck, we’ll be gone before the Preds have caught on to the full implications of our raid.”

Burnout seemed to accept the answer, as did the rest. “Ok,” he said. “So, you wanted to know about my ship…”

“Another… please…”, he said his words slurring only slightly. If there was one time he regretted being able to hold his intoxicants it was now.

“Are you sure Borais?” the Barkeep asked concern knitting his brow. “You don’t look so good.”

Borais only nodded and the bar tender shrugged and slapped down another shot of the vile stuff that the Predacon was gulping down. The Predacon knocked back the drink and suppressed the urge to gag as it burnt down his throat, and felt a bit of relief as the images that had been burned into his brain faded slightly. Slowly he relaxed the concentrated effort he was making not to think about what he had seen, and with a sudden lurch hurled himself towards the bathroom as he began to retch uncontrollably.

It was so terrible, so incredibly terrible, and it was a morbid, sickened fascination that he had prevented him from turning away from the monitor as the recording from the surveillance video played over and over again.

The kid, some Maximal, his name Canis, had been brought to the garrison to identify the mutilated body of a young girl. The kid identified it and was fine for a little while as the occupational police force questioned him. Then all of a sudden the kid broke down, and started raving and screaming, “Slag!… He’s back, he’s back… that slagging freak with a sword is back… frag, he’s gonna kill me, he’s going to FRAGGING KILL ME! You’ve got to hide me… he’s gonna kill me!”

Borais and the other guards, figuring this was some sort of dispute involving the seedy criminal underworld of the city, put the desperate boy into protective custody. Not wanting to put him in a cell they left him in a small medical room, on the second floor of the garrison, no more then a bed a counter and a window. Two guards had been placed outside the door and a camera in the room.

Everything was fine until midway through the night…

When the screaming started.

The two guards where pounding on the door trying to get it open but to no avail, something was keeping it shut from the inside they couldn’t shoot it open without risking hitting the boy. Borais stationed at the security station, found his eyes riveted to the monitor as the events unfolded.

Canis was staring at something outside the window, backed up against a wall, screaming as loud as he could, tears streaming down his face. Borais stared intently at the monitor trying to see the source of the kids terror. Inky black shadowy tendrils, almost like smoke, were creeping around the edge of the window frame, slowly worming their way into the room. Their was a slight push from the shadowy mass and the glass cracked, then shattered, spraying the room with bits of broken glass. The darkness crept in, filling the room, blanketing it, moving towards the boy who was gibbering in fear and kicking at the insubstantial seeming strands of darkness. Then a darker shape billowed into the room, the camera didn’t have any audio feed. But Borais could here the growl as… something dark… and shadowy pulled itself in through the window, almost gliding rather then walking. The shadowy tendrils dancing around it like a living thing, the hints of a humanoid shape within the blackness. The darkness creeped out towards the boy who was frothing at the mouth, moved over him almost like a caress, drawing him closer. The movement of the darkness revealed more of the figure, a transformer, wiry frame, clawed hands and a sword in it’s sheathing hanging loose and unused at it’s side. Borais almost recognized the face, something in a bulletin about the resistance. Borais watched helpless to do anything as the darkness tightened its grip on the boy, mech-fluid seeping out in rings from were it was holding him, drawing him screaming towards the figure.

A disgusting smell filled the garrison now, the scent of putrefying flesh and rotting meat, and more offensive to the cybertronian nose the smell of diseased rust on the living metal that made their frames, and on top of that other horrible decaying smells that Borais couldn’t even identify. Canis struggled the figure reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, his clawed hands sliding into his metallic flesh like a hot knife into butter, lifting him up, and then suddenly the screaming stopped. The boy, bleeding from a thousand wounds was staring raptly into the burning green eyes of the intruder. His face was frightful then curious a light seemed to dawn… only to be replaced by the most profound look of fear and despair that Borais had ever seen. The boys very eyes seemed to scream as the figures eyes blazed even larger, the shadows darkening coalescing around them, their was a terrible rending sound and then the shadows cleared following the figure as he leapt out the window like tatters of cloth.

The door suddenly flew open and the guards burst into the room. Only to bend over and start retching as the torn and ripped body that they found, bits of it spread all across the room, his head, connected to the neck by a thin strip of flesh grimacing gruesomely, and his chest torn to shreds.

An examination of the body showed that the spark chamber had none of the burn marks associated with an extinguished spark, it was simply gone, torn to pieces, consumed. That revelation had terrified the other guards more then anything else, but they had not seen the tape that Borais and a few others had. The image that Borais was so desperately trying to fog with drink was that look of hopeless, final, unending terror, frozen on Canis’s face.

***

By the following morning two more bodies were discovered; an old maximal women found torn to pieces in a park. The other a Predacon, his broken body found next to his son, who wailed uncontrollably and called out for his father.

Notices were sent to all the garrisons to be on the look out. Civilians warned desperately not to stay out after curfew and to lock their doors and windows.

Something was loose in the city,

Something no one understood,

And were therefore powerless to stop.

Querion's answer caused many to look up in surprise, particularly Timber. They knew that the wolf-bot was not one to shy away from a fight, that his berserker rage and sonic sabre could keep him in battle indefinitely. But now? Was he backing out? Had he become a coward? The feisty Maximal of old had emerged during the breakout from the jail, but it seemed like he had faded away as quickly as he came.

"I have matters to attend to," Querion continued, but not elaborating. "If I have your leave," he inclined his head politely towards Rhapsody, but it seemed more like a statement than a request. He walked over to the edge of the woods, transformed, nad tore through the dense undergrowth in his wolf form.
-------------------------------------------
The wolf stopped in mid-run, sitting on his haunches, tongue lolled out as he panted. His nose sniffed the air, picking up a strong, repulsive odour. A part of him was quick to leave, another part of him wanted to stay. After a few minutes, he pushed on.

He moved slowly, nudging obtrusive leaves and branches aside with his head. He glanced around furtively, as though expecting something to spring out. The crinkle of the grass underfoot filled his ears, the only sound in the deep forests. The dark sense of foreboding grew.

Querion stopped and stared ahead, a low growl in his throat, his fur prickling with uneasiness, as he stood in front of a great circle of ominous stones...

“I’m sure it could get us to cybertron, that is, if we don’t get shot down on our way out. Would be smart to take out some radar installations while we’re at it, maybe to increase our chances?”

(Here’s some info on the Xavior. From above, it’s cockpit was an oval cylinder with a rectangle attached to the back. From the rectangular aft cargo section, sprouted birdlike wings that curved forward around the sides and to the front of the ship. When jump mode and landing mode, the wings stayed on the same plane as the rest of the ship. But in cruise mode, the wings pivoted down, and allowed the cockpit to enjoy an unencumbered view. Hope that helps the mental view.

Oh, and it doesn’t have consoles like we think of them. All the surfaces are a smooth shiny gold/tan color, with even, ambient lighting that doesn’t seem to be projected from anywhere in particular. And when someone needs a console, parts of the wall liquefy and bleed away to reveal black touchpads below, then the pads light up with whatever configuration is needed for the wanted console. Pretty nifty

Rhapsody put her hands on her hips. "And just how are you going to accomplish that?"

Wraith grinned. "You forget babe? I can walk through walls! What better assassin can you get? Relic's gone, no prob. You got Wraith on the case!"

"What can you offer us, newcomer?" Rhapsody responded, warm but a bit skeptical.

"Make stuff go boom!"

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Cut, and Penji show!" He pointed with a flipper down to a blinking ankle bracelet. Burnout, who happened to be next to him took a look at it.

"Looks like a transformation inhibitor," he concluded. Penji nodded the affirmative. "Where'd you get this from?"

"Pred prison."

"Ahh," Burnout replied. It appeared easy enough to remove. Penji only hadn't been able to because he couldnt reach his legs in this mode. Burnout carefully broke off the device, hoping he was doing the right thing. Even Predacon prisons didn't usually take away the right to transform without a really good reason.

Penji transformed almost immediately, into a somewhat taller, trim, suave, much less awkward looking bot. That looked like he was wearing a tuxedo. He began to speak, in a completely different voice, this one sounding like it was out of some old Terran movie musical.

"Ah, it's good to be back. Well, bombs, grenades, booby traps, explosives, you name it, I got it. I say why just take out the leaders when you can take out the whole command center!"

With a snappy motion he pulled out from subspace a few blocks of C4 for emphasis.

"Oh, and as for stealth," he said as raised his left arm, which ended in his beast mode head.

Left hand: "Nobody suspects the penguin!"

He took another step, gagging as a second wave of vileness rushed through him. He shook his head to clear his mind, feeling a lingering sense of... evil? He knelt in front of a stone, fingers trailing the smooth lines that had severed its head, ignoring the sinister aura that surrounded him. Hardly a result of the planet's weathering.

He continued forth, until he came face-to-face with a large monolith in the middle of the circle. Its face was flat, smooth, and glistened with a sheen that reflected like a mirror's. A distorted, sickening image he saw in it, so dark that he was filled with apprehension. A glimmer of light caught his eye, as he peered downwards, eyes landing on a multi-faceted gem. He picked it up, turning it around, inspecting the blunt uncut edges, and dull black colour. A swift pain shot through his hand, and he dropped it, startled, as though it burned.

He wandered past it, mind hazy, throat parched, finding it impossible even to swallow. He stumbled past, knocking into the rough stones, picking up speed with every step, as he yearned to leave. He collapsed on the grassy ground, panting heavily as he felt the oppressive feeling lessen. He opened his eyes slowly, finding himself eye-to-eye with what looked like a smashed stone effigy. Pieces of it were strewn over the ground, pieces that seemed to make up its body, a six-armed serpent. He picked up the single untouched piece - the head - staring intently at the hooked beak and elaborate headdress. He flung it aside with disgust, and ran off, as the memory of this place was irrecovably etched into his mind.

The head of the idol bounced off the floor, and rolled to stop, the head facing upwards. The eyes were red rubies, its maw was open, marked with strange stains.

Blood continued to drip from it.

"I'll go I'm made for impersanation and infiltration, I can change my command codes, forge my documents, and change my emblems when I need too so getting in well be no problem for me."
As she stood there waiting Raspody thought foor a moment and responded to her.

"okay your in."

with a smile Pachoula began to get ready for the mission by changing her command codes her emblems and forging her documents she would need to get into the base.

Rhapsody felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Weede grinning at her.

"I'm with you, dudette! Snootch to the naga-nootch, maaannnn!"

-------------

Rhapsody nodded to weede and pushed him away as she walked in the middle if the group and stood addressing the group again. "Thank you all for your support, we will move out at midnight. YOu have till then to prepare or do whatever you need to." (Time is now 1300 SCT)

-------------

"So what you are just gonna walk right in the front door..."

"That is the plan."

Solarflare thought for awhile about the plan that was given out by rhapsody. "Can i go with you?" He asked quietly as Switchblade just sorta glanced at him.

"Why?" She said flatly

Solarflare looked at the ground for a moment and crossed somthing out in his mind one again, "Just becuase its not safe, just one maximal for a diversion, its sucide,I'll go wtih you to help out."

"I don't need any help, I'll be fine."

"Yeah right, look how you ended up here. I am going with you."
"Fine." Switch blade said as she sat down to rest.

The shuttle itself opened and its package exited into the field to roam freely for a while. The shuttle package was a fuzor horse. The black horse stood in the open field for a moment taking in all of the sights. " Nature." The female horse spoke to herself as she in haled through her muzzle. The dark horse trot about the field happily.

She turned to face the young wolf. "And why not?"

He stared straigh back at her. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to show off or anything, but with my powers....well, it just puts all of you in unneccessary danger."

"Penji go! Penji go!" Came the obscene cry. Wraith looked at it in annoyance. "Y'know, that thing's just a big stuffed toy an' it's gettin' on my nerves."

Laughs and giggles came from the crowd of Maximals. Wraith turned back to Rhapsody, the smile and laughs gone from his face. "But I'm serious. There's no need for everybody to be put at risk when I'm the only one who needs to go. If you give me the exact coordinates of where I need to go and who I need to whack, I can be in and outta there in 5 cycles, no more."

"Yes, me just toy."

he transformed, and drew an obscenely large gun.

"WITH A FRICKIN MISSILE LAUNCHER! Plus enough concealed explosives to flatten a city."

He reverted to beast mode.

"Tee-hee."

Scope had heard Rhapsody's request for help. A chance for a little thrill at least, hah, it would have been a thrill to him a long time ago, but not anymore. All these thoughts, all these unfamiliar yet completely natural thoughts had muddled his ruthless warrior's mind.

"I will go with them," he says, without his own knowing he says it. He hisses, dismissing the decision for how foolish it is. The thing that really bothered him, though, is that for the first time it seemed that what he had said had been sincere. That one statement, of all the things he had ever said, was truly, sincerely, how he felt. Slag! Not even the freedom of flight could keep him from these thoughts now.

Scope begins to slow and descend toward the trees, ever lightly he lands and perches on a tree branch. He begins to think again, but these thoughts are more deep than what he had previously been pondering. Now he thought of his past, and most of all... of his sister.

Scope suddenly feels a pit in his stomach, and his throat tightens. He remains silent, dips his beak to his chest, and trembles.

***Maximal Camping area***

Scope sits perched in a tree overlooking the glade the Maximals had taken up residence in. They had not heard him coming, and probably were not very alert anyway with all the events that had been transpring and the anticipation of those that were to come.

Scope watches, he watches Catfish. A young female, innocent, impressionable, cheery. He sees her following Rita, vying for her attention, and loving her. And again, he remembers.

A single tear rolls down Scope's face.

Meanwhile, back at the shuttle's touch down point the horse that had exited the shuttle had stopped her troting and had found a nice patch of grass under the shade of a tree to relax under. She sat their all four legs under her and her nibbled at the grass from time to time. " I love nature. Its so.....so..." Slight giggle. " So natural!"

The computer called her through her internal com. // Homing signal should be detected by other Maximals at any moment. Please return to the shuttle and try to contact them.//

Eternity would have frowned if she had that ability as a horse but she couldn't. // I'll return in a few cycles.//

The dark horse laid her head down on the cool ground under the shadows of the tree. Eternity sighed in continement.

So, she and her adopted charge killed time as they waited for the mission to start by playing one of Catfish’s favorite games and one of the very few things that could make her sit still for more then five minutes.

“Okay.” Rita said, tapping the data pad in front of her, “You enter a very dark room, the only light comes from softly glowing slime that covers one of the walls, but that still leaves most of the area obscured in shadow. You feel you are being watched.”

Catfish spoke very quickly and enthusiastically, “Bernard stands in the door way and brandishes his sword, eyeing the shadows aggressively to see if any of them are moving. Pickle…”

“Is Pickle the mage or the thief?”

“Thief, anyway he wriggles through the part of the entrance Bernard isn’t blocking, sees the green stuff, squeaks with delight and starts toward it, but is grabbed by Jaclyn before he gets to it.”

“How did Jaclyn get though the doorway with Bernard blocking it?”

“She just barreled though, she’s got a seventeen for strength.”

“Ah, go on.”

“Okay! Jaclyn continues to hold Pickle aloft and doesn’t yell at him, but just tells him not to run off sounding really tired and kind of irritated. Asteroth brushes by Bernard rubbing his stubbed toes and muttering about the ‘Imbecilic fighters who used up all the money on armor so we couldn’t afford torches’. He notices the moldy stuff and walks over to try and identify it.”

Rita pokes at her pad again, “Time for an intelligence check.”

“Okay!” Catfish picks up her own pad, pressed the button that activated the random number program, set it from 18 to 0 and pressed the button again.

“Eight!” She announced.

“You don’t think you’ve ever seen this stuff before.”

“Umm, okay. Jaclyn suggests scooping some of the stuff up and carrying it along to light the way, but Asteroth doesn’t like that ‘cause he doesn’t know what it is and it might be dangerous. Then Bernard suggests smashing it into little pieces and they tell him to shut up at exactly the same time. Pickle walks over to the shadows and starts poking around in them with his hoopak.”

It always surprised Rita how articulate Catfish could be when necessary. Her naive, child-like demeanor often made Rita forget that, all things considered, the fuzor was probably far more intelligent then her

The rustling in the leaves jerked him from the calm. He leapt to his feet, blade pulled and ready, body stiff and tense. A familiar black lion appeared from the bushes.

"I have... to go."

Querion's appearance softened, and he let out a sigh. Sadness flickered in his optics for a moment, before he said,

"Where to?"

"Back. To the Matrix."

Querion gave a nod of acknowledgement as he looked up, only to see a transformed Convoy Prime. He blinked, surprised at the sudden change. He had heard nothing.

"Soon?"

"Now."

The flutter of wings caused the wolf-bot's head to turn, and when his attention returned, he saw the spectre, in all of his maimed glory. The lion-bot stared at him with one glowing eye.

"Why have you stayed behind then?" Querion asked, puzzled.

"Atonement. I must say, the Matrix has strident gatekeepers."

The wolf-bot gave a wry smile, as he sheathed his sabre.

"Reckon I will have to do the same?"

Convoy's eyes darted around, then he shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Depends doesn't it? On what you do, right now."

"Hmm," Querion mused. "Goodbye, then."

"Yea, goodbye."

Convoy, now mode-less, picked out a cigarette from his side, placing it carefully in his mouth. He reached to the other side, a look of puzzlement crossed his face, as he started to search his body with his hands. He sighed, and stopped, hands dropping helplessly by his side, as he asked:

"Got a light?"

Querion grinned, as he watched his friend glow, and slowly fade away...

Ship's Computer: " Unknown. Suggest trying a direct comlink to any nearby Maximals."

Eternity huffed. " Fine then...open me a com so I can fill the airwaves with the call."

------------

Several clicks later a comlink channel opened to all the Maximal who were camping out. An unknown female's voice was heard over the channel. // Hey there all you Maxi fans. This message has been brought to you by the Communication's shuttle in which a I wait. I'm looking for a bit of help please. If your hearing this hurry on down to my location or." Pause for slight giggle. " Pick up the com and try to out master my skills." By the tone and complexty of her speech and voice this fem's mentality was in the what terran's would refer to as 'the teen years.'

Buckshot was considering walking up and asking them about it- he was definitely the blunt type- when a random radio signal disturbed his thoughts. A female voice, teenage-sounding, requesting assistance. Claimed to be a Maximal, and as Buckshot grabbed a signal sweeper, not far off.

The rotweiler stood up and walked past Rita and Catfish into the bushes, sweeper raised. She said she was a Maximal, but...Buckshot drew one of his revolvers, just to be sure.

--------------

Eternity sat on a tree stump, watching the grass with a delighted expression. Her slender legs swung over the edge of the stump as she plucked a flower and looked at it contemplatively. She had no doubt someone would show up; it was just a matter of-

CLIK

"What's your deal, kid?"

Eternity turned around to see a tall, well-built canine Maximal holding a revolver steadily to the back of her head.

"You're young, you're a Maximal, and you're the one that sent that message- that much I know." Buckshot said. "But no mercy and no trust in Endport- so tell me who the frag you are and what the frag you want, and then we'll see whether you can be trusted or not. Deal?"

"Who'd leave a looker like you alone to begin with? And what's your name?" he asked.

"Eternity. And I dunno...parents, Predacons, something like that. I don't remember a lot of it. What's your name? Where are you from?" she asked, smiling up at him.

"I'm Buckshot. Prison." Buckshot replied bluntly.

"What'd you do?"

"Got framed for treason against the Tripredacus Council. Funny story, really. But that's not important. What, um, what can I do for you?"

"We can hang out, get to know each other, meet some of your friends, I don't mind really. As long as you take me..."

Eternity toyed with her hair and suddenly took Buckshot's arm. Too suddenly- the rotweiler raised a fist in surprise- but he figured out her intent and dropped it.

"Yeah, sure, I can take ya somewhere. There's a crapload of other Maximals a little while off- Rhapsody'll know what to do with you."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. And-" Buckshot said, smiling down at her and squeezing her hand protectively. "-Don't be afraid to ask me for anything. I'll help ya out."

Eternity nodded and squeezed his arm tight and Buckshot took her to the clearing.

She looked up at him after spotting several of the maximals but more importantly the two fem's playing. " Who are they? " Eternity asked looking interested in their play. " ....Are they ...like me?" So many new things for her to learn and play with and get to know. It was almost enough for her to get excited in a whole difference but she contained herself.

"I am going with her!" Solarflare called out.

"Very well." Rhapsody contiued, "They will enter the predacon military HQ and deliver a package but also shut down a few of the security peraminters. A small group will invade the building and secure it. THIS IS A COVERT OP PEOPLE. If someone ses you you kill them, if you see them first move along before they notice you. NO unessary fighting."

"Do you expect us all to go in one HQ will out being noticed?" Burnout said.

"No, another group whose key person will be catfish will head to the satelite warehouse and hack the systems and shut down the grid. After that both teams will return to the location of the Xavior and get of this primus for sakn rock to see if we can't save our home land. You may go with either team unless you have a specific duty. Lts move out!" THe group began to shuffle around. "Oh is there any questions?"

“I’d like to go with Catfish,” she said casting a glance towards Rita, who offered no objections. Timber shrugged to herself as she’d been too jumpy lately, and she didn’t have the patience to deal with a really covert operation.

Feeling Mimi's arms around him, he felt like falling asleep again in his paramour's embrace, but his devotion to his training would not let him; being careful not to wake the feline, he extricated himself from her grasp and walked quietly away to do his morning (almost noon by now) training...

*trip*
BAM!

"OWWW! WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA FEATHER-BUTT??? D'YA WANNA KILL ME OR SOMETHIN?!?!?"

Spyder's strident voice raised in indignation from Corvus stumbling over his prone body echoed through the forest...

Oh frag. Now I'm screwed. he thought, indecision racking his mind. Go with the cute girl...or kick some ass? Kick some ass...or go with the cute girl? Go with the cute girl or kick some ass? Kick some ass or go with the cute girl?

Buckshot thought hard, and then he sighed as another portion of his shell other than his neural net took over his decisions for a moment.

"I'll stay with you." he said to Eternity finally.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely. You do what you gotta do, and I'll watch your back."

Eternity smiled and sidled a bit closer to Buckshot, who smiled as well and held her hand tight.

This ain't so bad...hell, maybe someone'll be stupid enough to attack us and I'll still get to kick some ass! Buckshot thought happily.

But from her, "Bucky" sounded...kinda cute. In a macho way. What the frag was she doing to him?

"Um, comms?" Buckshot repeated, scratching his head. "Well...you talk through 'em...and people talk to you through 'em...and there's a lot of buttons and static and comms crap involved. That's about how much I know."

He glanced over at another branch of the tree and spied Retro hanging upside down from his tail. He was still in robot mode though, apparently engrossed in a small hand-held game. “Uh, yea. Beer, can’t have enough beer….” He mumbled, agreeing with Burnout even though the only word the cat surmised his friend heard was ‘Beer.’

The fuzor groaned softly and lay his head down back on the branch. He peered down to see Rita directly below. No wonder why this branch stood out as a prime spot. He hung his tail down and tickled the side of her face with it. She looked up and smirked at him. “Mmm?”

“Rita, you and Fish wouldn’t mind a little fire support from me and my little friend here, would ya?”

Retro instinctively grumbled nearby on hearing the words ‘support from’ and ‘my little friend’.

Giving her weapons and equipment one last check, Switchblade stood and gazed a final time at the group of ‘bots assembled around her. In her minds eye she could see once again the events that had taken place since her arrival in Endport. Her scuffle with Chapel, the disaster at the science fair, the space battle…even their recent prison break (which she was told was not a first for many senior members of the Resistance). They were good people, she thought, turning her head away and locating Solarflare just a few meters away. She would be sad to leave them once her mission ended, but that she supposed was life. One lived, learned, made friends, and then moved on. The courier shook her head softly. It had to be done however. Events had passed the point at which she could be of any use.

Switchblade glanced over at Solarflare again, catching his eyes. She gestured once with her head and the Yellow Finch began to move in her direction. Quickly Switchblade removed her delivery canister and checked the seal. Still good. She had programmed it to open only once every hour. And then when it was opened, to self-destruct. The explosion wouldn’t be large, but would most certainly be enough to paste the unlucky Pred who opened it. The badger ‘bot smiled grimly. Such was the price one paid for doing unnecessary business with somebody who you were trying to kill. She stowed the tube securely as Solarflare pulled up next to her.

“You ready?” Switchblade asked the finch.

“Whenever you are.” he replied.

“Good,” she said, “We’ll be leaving momentarily then.” The courier turned back to the loosely gathered crowd of resistance members and raised her voice. “Is there anyone else coming with us? I think we can tolerate another ‘bot or two, just so long as they don’t slow us down.” A few heads looked up in response to her voice, but for the moment no one spoke. “Anyone?” Switchblade repeated. “Speak up now, or stay here. I don’t want stragglers catching up when we’re half way there.” She looked expectantly about, but still, there was no reply. Perhaps she should have been a little more cordial with her invitation, she thought. She wasn’t used to speaking before large crowds, even if she had only a few words. Public speaking wasn’t her thing. She waited patiently for any response.

“Penguin!” Catfish announced out of the blue and became transfixed by Penji again. Rita picked up their game pads and slipped them away, they could continue this later.

"You're a penguin!"

"Yes!"

"That's so cool!"

"Yes."

Catfish didn't respond, she just stared at Penji, meserized. Penji stared back, impassive, completely still, but somehow speaking through his eyes, telling her stories of gibberish, nonsense, and souffle. Catfish was appararently unfamiiliar with the Third Rule of Antarctic Exploration: Never get into a staring contest with a penguin.

Weede stumbled through the crowd and walked up to Switchblade. He shook her hand and almost fell into her before taking a kind of unsteady balance next to her.

"Dudes and dudettes, together as one, fighting to...um...stop bad stuff. Or something. Shyeah..." Weede said vacantly as Switchblade just stared at him.

-------------

"I know..." Buckshot said, nodding, his mouth falling open slightly.

"So we can both help each other than." Eternity said, moving her face close to Buckshot's staring up at him.

"Ohhhh yeah." Buckshot nodded some more. "We can help each other a lot. A fragging lot. Oh yeah. Um..."

He shook his head quickly and his optics focused. Having given himself the mental equivalent of a cold shower (for now), Buckshot released Eternity's hand (the one holding his hand) and put an arm around her shoulder. She looked with some surprise at the muscular arm, and then slid into it. He squeezed her shoulders assuringly, and then removed his arm, assuming a more businesslike manner.

"All right, we'll help each other out." Buckshot said to her. "You said your comms crap was back in your ship?"

"Yup."

"All right then, let's get to it."

He transformed into Beast Mode himself, and the rotweiler began bounding forward, jumping random rocks and tree roots as he closely tailed Eternity.

"Hey, you can fly! No fair!" he yelled, laughing.

Endport, Spat mused, and not for the first time, was a filthy awful place to live. The winged monkey frowned contemptuously as he gazed through the three inch thick trasperi-steel plate he’d had installed over the windows in his apartments. His quarters were high up the massive gray building that the Predacons had chosen for their HQ; a sign not only of his rank, but his favor in the eyes of their commander as well. The four small rooms were well appointed…but that mattered little. He was unhappy there, and moreover, he didn’t like the view.

Spat lifted himself on his toes, gaining an extra few inches with which to peer over the ledge of the high window. He peered down at the wrecked remains of the city. Even with the distortion of the transperi-steel plate (his sniper insurance), he could see clearly the mass of broken towers and ruined streets. The conquered streets. The Predacons ruled Endport. By association he was also one of its masters, free to come and go as he pleased when not on duty. But if he was a ruler here, Spat knew that it was only of a worthless wasted city. As his own interests lay in decadence, he drew little pleasure from his position of power.

The weasely Predacon lowered himself to the ground and stalked off to one of the three small couches that adorned his rooms. It was a gaudy thing, made of red silk and a rare Earth wood, and therefore his favorite. He threw his metal frame at it and landed with a soft thud. The couch, not built to support the weight of a Transformer of any size, groaned under his weight. What a mess. the he said to himself. Though lavishly decorated by current Endport standards, his living space was none the less a step down from what he was used to. A dull room to fit a dull assignment, he thought. Cooped up in a gilded cage, with nothing to do but chase Resistance groups so small that they barely rated his attention, much less that of his commanders.

Spat sighed and reached for a black lacquered dish on the coffee table next to him. Absent-mindedly he drew the cover back and reached inside, groping for one of its softly glowing treasures. As he did so he forced himself to relax a bit. Things weren’t so bad he reminded himself. He lived, for the most part, in the lap of luxury, and did what he enjoyed most in earning it: Scheme and kill. Sooner or later things would change and he would be transported away from Endport, headed for warmer climes and a more intellectually challenging assignment. Then he would finally be content. Spat smiled wickedly. Why, perhaps he would even…

But he never finished his thought. “Where are all the energon…” He tipped the black dish and glared inside, discovering at last why his groping fingers had not yet laid hold of the expensive little energon snacks he liked.

They were gone.

Spat screamed and hurled the dish at the far wall, shattering it into a million pieces. There was a soft tinkling sound as the black lacquered glass scattered across the marble tiles lining his floor. The Predacon’s eyes burned bright with rage. Was there nothing civilized to be had from this Unicron damned planet!! As he fumed he realized that his most recent shipment had never arrived. Spat made a mental note to discover the name of the carrier and have him executed by slow and painful means. Standing, he stormed quickly out of his room, nearly running into the burly Grapple on his way out.

As the flying monkey departed, Grapple only stared in amusement. “Now what’s gotten into that little metal maggot?” he growled quietly. Whatever it was, it was gratifying to see the self-important imp in a rage. Maybe when he was through with his meeting with Blacklight he would pass by Spats quarters again. Torture him a bit, since he was so obviously out of his comfort zone. Grapple chuckled as he lumbered off in the opposite direction. It was a harsh unforgiving sound. Much like Grapple himself.

Unknown to the Resistance, events were shifting in their favor. The time for the assault was drawing near.

(Gah, Raven's contagious!)

--------------

Buckshot bounded into the clearing in which Eternity's vessel had landed and transformed into Robot Mode. He smiled slightly, and began to walk to it.

"Ohhhh, Bucky..." came a light voice from within.

Eternity leaned out of the shuttle doors and beckoned to him.

"I'm almost finished setting up, I just need you." she said, smiling.

"Oh hell yeah." Buckshot said to himself as he nodded and walked closer.

Buckshot abruptly stopped a few feet from the shuttle. He got an odd expression on his face and began sniffing the air. He glanced around with confusion. That smelled like...

...mechfluid?

"What is it?" Eternity asked him from the doorway.

"Um, I'm getting something weird here. Hold on a moment, huh? I gotta check this out."

He smiled reassuringly at Eternity, then made his way into the surrounding woods, consternation taking control of his features as he sniffed the air. He bent to his knees and smelled the ground, his canine nature taking over. He stood up, with a definite lock on the scent, and began walking purposefully to a grove of trees not far from the outskirts of Endport.

The scent was everywhere. His nose was twitching. Taking note of dark splashes in the grass, Buckshot pushed aside some grass...

"HOLY S**T!!!"

A dead Predacon woman lay staring up at him. Her body was rent in several places, and she was covered in dried mechfluid. Fluid dripped from the side of her thin mouth, and she gazed at Buckshot with sightless optics.

Buckshot clamped a hand over his mouth and waited a moment for the nausea to pass. Having thus steeled himself, he looked the dead woman over. She was mature, and disturbingly enough, about his mom's age, if not slightly younger. The scent was definitely her mechfluid, which lay quietly in dried clumps and puddles in the grass. The mechfluid was streaked and matted for a horizontal stretch a few meters ahead...she'd been dragged.

No weapons, no rank insigna...a civilian. Buckshot smelled her with some reluctance. Predacon, yeah. The two factions had different scents, he knew. And he could swear he caught...

...a Maximal?

A Maximal scent was all over here. Something else mixed in with it, something Buckshot couldn't place, but this was a Maximal smell, most definitely. The only Maximals on Gaiana that he knew of were resistance members...and not only didn't this smell like any of the ones Buckshot knew, he didn't think any of them were capable of THIS. This was...this was...unspeakable.

"Whoever did this is one sick, sick bastard." Buckshot said softly. "And if I get a chance, I'm hauling them in. 'Cause this does not look like a first time for the son of a b**ch."

With that said, Buckshot picked up the woman and propped her over his shoulder, his face full of grief. He didn't like most Predacons, but not all of them were bad. And he couldn't think of any of them off the top of his head that deserved this.

Making a mental note to first bury the poor lady, and then look into whoever was behind it, Buckshot slowly walked back to the shuttle with the woman swinging over his shoulder.

Switchblade nodded her head grimly as she surveyed her small group. It was time to get things rolling. Pulling off the whole mission and getting out alive would be a stretch…but who knew, stranger things had happened to her before. With a swift motion she signaled to Solarflare and headed off in the direction of the city. He followed, trailed by a seemingly preoccupied Weede. If all went well, they would emerge from the forest on the skirts of Endport about an hour before the attack. That would be the easy part. Then came the challenge of actually getting into Predacon H.Q.

Not an easy task, to say the least of it. But they had an ace up their proverbial sleeve.

“Dude! Are like, we going?” babbled Weede, as though he had finally realized what all the walking was about.

“Yeah.” replied Solarflare in a guarded tone. The finch seemed tense, but not because of the impending raid. No, it was something else entirely that filed him with worry. Something walking out a few meters ahead of the group, leading them on toward the city. “Be quiet now, ok? We’re on the trail. Don’t want any Preds picking us off before we get where we’re going.” he finished. Weede reluctantly obeyed, staying silent for at least three whole minutes. After which he had to be hushed again.

The three trudged through the dense forest as quickly and quietly as a trio of Transformers is capable, catching only glimpses of Wraith as he dashed a course apart from, yet near to their own.. Solarflare pulled up even with the badger ‘bot but kept silent. Switchblade for her part didn’t seem to notice. Weede, somewhere off to the rear (along with any others who want to be in on this part of the mission), was in a world of his own. After a time, at about the halfway point of their journey, the three Transformed, trading speed for stealth. Covered with the skins of their respective Beast Modes they continued padding across the ground. Silence hung heavy in the night air and darkness closed around them like a fog. They continued on, growing steadily closer to their nightmarish destination.

Mimi stopped by rhapsody as the two began to catch up to the first group. "So whats deal boss?" Rhapsody smiled as she had a companion. The two went over the plan and decided the best plan of action.

---------------------
Solarflare glided gracefully next to Switch as she quickly moved over the ground, weede stumbling to keep up. He searched his head for somthing he could possible strike a conversation which and finally locked onto somthing. "Hey Switch?"

"Yes." She answered in a tone that SF thought she may not like his nickname for her.

"What are you going to do once we get off this **** hole?"

He got to a distance where he could speak to her quietly without being heard by others. Even she could barely hear him. "Hey," He said. "This mission shouldn't take us too long so I was thinking, maybe when this is over, you an' me could get to know each other a little better. Over dinner maybe?"

Walking up to Rita and dismissing his feelings to the back of his mind - for now - he tried to muster up a cheery grin. "Hi, Rita! So, what's the mission profile? Any definite plan in mind yet?"

“You don’t have a contract.” Rhapsody informed her before moving off.

“So therefore that can’t be in it!” Rita yelled after her. The mink scowled and fumed for a moment until…

“Hi, Rita! So, what's the mission profile? Any definite plan in mind yet?"

Rita looked up and resisted the urge to wipe that disgustingly cheery grin off of Corvus’ face and instead gave him a look of pure malice and was about to retort when an idea struck her. She paused, considered it, and decided it was a good one.

“Nothing solid at the moment,” She informed the Raven, “I guess we’ll just go and scope out the area first. Corvus, I’m giving you a special assignment. Catfish get over here!”

“Hi!” the fuzor seemed to appear out of the ground beside Rita.

“Good.” Rita spoke very quickly, “Since Catfish has a key role in this mission we can’t let anything happen to her. I’d look out for her, but I’m going to be busy yelling at everyone else. Watch her, keep her on track, and make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Okay? Good. Catfish stay with Corvus.”

“Okie-doky!”

Rita nodded and turned to project to her entire group, “Everyone heading towards the satiate warehouse, move it!” She whistled and leapt on her hoverboard as is came up beside her.

"Where'd you find her?" Eternity asked.

"Out in the bushes. I got a serious whiff of mechfluid and followed it. This lady has a Maximal smell all over her..."

Buckshot carefully laid her on the floor and glanced at Eternity.

"You got a shovel handy?"

"No."

"Crematory furnace?"

"Nope."

"Plasma stream?"

"Umm..."

"Damn."

Buckshot appeared truly disturbed about this. He held his head in his hands as Eternity looked the body over.

"I am I am! She's just umm... here?"

"She's over here."

The Maximals jumped at the voice, some of them weapons drawn and at the ready, others with their fingers inching just right above their arsenal. A sleek silver-white wolf strolled out of the darkness, Catfish bouncing happily on his back, her eyes bright and shining. His eyes however, were bleak and stony.

"Heya Rita! Look who I found!" Catfish exclaimed in delight, as she slid off the smooth silver coat at the behest of an anxious Corvus. The wolf transformed, and appeared in his robot mode with a wry smile on his face. His eyes remained hard and distant.

"Querion!" Timber gasped, in surprise, a quiver of relief in her voice.

Querion smiled in reply, inclining his head towards her, but his expression was stern, and his eyes darted away as his vision brushed past her face. Timber blinked at his lack of concern, while the others sheathed their weapons, glad that a scuffle was not due anytime soon.

"Arrgh! Another disagreeable brawler!" Rita exclaimed, eyes rolled heavenwards in a mock display of exasperation. She lifted a hand, and the wolf-bot shook it. "Welcome back," she smiled.

"Okay people. Come on come on, we don;t have all day. And Corvus, you'd better not lose Catfish again, or else..."

Rita's voice trailed off, as the Maximal team hurried forward, while the two wolves lagged behind.

"Did you... find anything?" Timber asked, an eyebrow raised.

Querion shook his head. "No," he muttered, and picked up his pace. How could he describe to her the presence he had encountered, the miasmic doom that he had felt? She deserved no share of such dire knowledge. If someone were to bear it, it'd be himself. The wolf-bot kept awfully silent, as he chased the disappearing group of Maximals.

Timber watched in the distance. Querion's stern demeanour troubled her. Greatly.

It must be said in Corvus’s defence that it was through no negligence of his own that the little Fuzor slipped off. His determination to keep Catfish safe was unflagging. However, Catfish had a particular knack for “wandering off” undetected, as Rita could attest to. So under the influence of god knows what impulse, Catfish followed Timber undetected. Not through any real effort at staying hidden, but because the wolf’s mind was elsewhere and she had not noticed her.

However, another predator had.

Relic squatted on the eaves of a warehouse, the living shadows cloaking him from view. His eyes glowed balefully as the young femme passed, something seemed familiar about her… but… he could not recall. Besides… his lover wasn’t interested in her… but wasn’t his lover doing what he wanted… or no… no… he was helping his lover… that was the way it always was… wasn’t it? There was so much he couldn’t remember, and it frustrated him sometimes, but at those times his lover would speak soothing words… and he would feel better. She was so good to him. His lover had been quiet inside him for some time, sated from the meal they had made of some faceless vagrant. But she did have a face… didn’t she? Relic put a clawed hand to his head… why couldn’t he recall… why was he hunting… wasn’t he offering people… the chance to understand… but no … then he hurt them… because they didn’t want to understand and they hurt him… so now… he… he… did what? What his lover wanted of course… how could he forget.

A small figure skipped across Relic’s field of view and a sudden shock ran through him as his lover came roaring to the surface, speaking in many voices as she sometimes did… Relic didn’t like that… it confused him.

“Look… LOOK….”

“So Innocent…”

“So Pure…”

“It’s essence the finest I have ever…”

“CONSUME!”

“So very very pure…”

“We must have her…”

“CONSUME! HUNT! EAT!”

“It’s essence is so pure… so raw and yet so refined….”

“We must consume it…”

“We must have it…”

“Yes! YES… LET US TAKE IT!”

“CONSUME!”

The voices roared inside Relic’s head and he shook it to clear them away, who were these other people, where was his lover? Suddenly the voices vanished and his lover returned.

“That one Relic… we must have that one… I want her Relic… get her for me… bring her to me… let me have her…”

Relic was confused, wasn’t she helping him… this wasn’t like her… something he should remember about that figure down there…

“Go Relic…. Go…” His voice pleaded in a voice he could not disobey. Without a moments hesitation he pushed off, sailing through the air and landing several yards in front of the small Fuzor… something he was supposed to do… something he had to do… he couldn’t remember. Slowly hesitantly Relic raised a hand towards the Fuzor.

And Catfish, after cocking her head to the side, obediently walked forward.

The action slammed into Relic like a bullet train, she was coming to him! She wanted to understand, she wanted to see… she cared…

“No… NO… TAKE HER! GIVER HER TO ME!” the voice inside him insisted. Relic frowned a sudden surge of anger coming over him… what was this thing… inside him… it felt wrong… so wrong… why was it telling him what to do… and the clouds around his mind lifted somewhat.

Suddenly he was struck from the side, a body through itself into him, knocking the assassin off his feet.

“GO CATFISH! RUN”! A female voice screamed.

Something was hurting him, he was hurt, attacking him… and his mind ran fleeing back to his lover, and the darkness around his mind fell again.

Relic drew himself up, the shadows around him drawing up making him seem colossal, were his feet even touching the ground. His eyes saw the glint of steel in the femme’s hands… axes… she was attacking him…

“Take her…” the voice commanded quietly…

And Relic obeyed.

***

Timber stared up at the massive form above her, shadows whipping around it like snakes, as it peered down at her with baleful green eyes… she couldn’t quite see through the darkness… but… whatever it was it wasn’t good… She felt so cold… and it wreaked of rot and disease and death… there was no way it had anything healthy planned for Catfish.

Suddenly the thing moved forward like a flash, and Timber darted to the side, her axes lashing out, the caught on tendrils of inky blackness, and cut through easily, the severed tip vanishing like smoke, but before it had been gone a second a new tip grew to replace it.

Timber swore knowing she was in over her head… there was something about this… this… thing that spoke of death… looking around she realised she couldn’t see Catfish. The little Fuzor had probably gotten away.

She spun her axes and darted forward, ready for another attack, but suddenly she couldn’t move… something had her legs… something cold and putrescent, Timber whipped around trying to reach the thing that was confining her, but it was no use, every second more cold latched on to her body, and the dark form in front of her grew larger and closer. Timber felt so cold… so very very cold… and weak… the thing had her…was drawing her to him… she peered through the writhing tendrils and suddenly began to make out features…

“Relic?” She breathed…

The thing hesitated for a moment the continued drawing her in… she looked into those eyes and was captivated… she couldn’t turn away from those eyes… getting closer… and brighter… and suddenly she was falling, falling down towards a light… a light surrounded by dark clouds…. And she was helpless to get away….

Suddenly Timber’s mind was brought screaming into her body. Two burning balls of plasma scorched through the air, severing the tendrils that held her, she was dropped to the ground forgotten, as the creature turned to face the new threat with a vicious growl

Querion stalked forward, his sword held low, and his face deathly grim. The wolf’s shoulder cannons glowing with energy as he prepared another attack. The balls of burning energy screamed forward, lighting the alleyway as the went, and the dark form flinched away from that light. It dodged to the side, to quick for any transformer, but not fast enough to avoid the blasts. One plasma bolt slammed into him, briefly dissolving the shadowy waves in the radius of the small blast. The looming figure hardly seemed to notice though. The other blast streaked past and hit a stacked pile of barrels. The barrels immediately exploded, creating a wall of fire stretching across the one end of the alley. That got it’s attention, almost desperately it moved away from the bright light and heat of the flame towards the warrior who stood at the other end of the alley. The wolf-bot was now joined by others, shadowy figures standing next to him and two floating in the air above him all with weapons drawn.

The dark figure stood a moment, staring at them with its baleful green eyes.

With a savage snarl, Querion flew forward, leading the charge. The fire reflected in his sword and eyes. Those eyes… thirsty for mech-fluid soaked justice.

She was still standing where she’d been when Timber had saved her, or some thing. That was basically why she was confused. She was pretty sure the big black thing was Relic. It looked sort of like him and it was silly and totally unsure of itself exactly like him. So why had Timber tackled it? The Relic-thing looked like it wanted to tell her something cool!

After reflecting for a moment Catfish concluded that Timber must be very happy to see Relic. Slamming into people at high speeds was a very effective way of saying hello; she employed that method quite a bit herself. She watched Querion slam into him too. Everyone was so happy to see Relic again! But now it looked like they were fighting, which was very distressing (or at least would be if she were capable of that emotion) and even more confusing.

Catfish saw that, despite her confusion, this situation required immediate response and decisive action. Thinking fast she concluded the best thing to do was to hop in a circle on one foot making cow noises.

And she did so, very decisively.

It was very fun, but didn’t appear to do much. That failing she sprinted towards the fight in hopes of doing something effective.

The two combatants stood about 60 feet from each other, seemingly relaxed and unperturbed. Querion twirled his blade leisurely with his wrist, tossing it several times in the air, but his eyes never leaving his opponent. The other just stood unmoving, his gaze level and undaunted.

"R-Relic?" Timber gasped, before being interrupted by a hacking cough as she sought to catch her breath.

"No. Not Relic," Querion muttered, clenching his fist in a ball, trembling with anger. His voice was icy and bleak, while his eyes betrayed a thirsty eagerness for battle. How dared he! How dared this creature assume the form of his friend, how dared this monster maintain the facade of a Maximal, when the stench of evil hung from his very form! "No. Not Relic," the warrior repeated, shaking his head. He sniffed the air, and bared his teeth. "The same foul reek of iniquity. I think I may have discovered where you came from." His tone was conversational, his tight grip on his sword, however, meant business.

The wolf-bot glared at Relic, but the assassin took naught but a glance at him, instead turning to look at Timber, his expression neutral. He took a step to his right, a little closer towards the she-wolf, and Querion mirrored his move, acting like a shield against the shadowy assassin. Relic looked unconcerned however, as he tossed his cloak back, kicking up a thick cloud of smoke in the process. The assassin then sprinted past with inhuman speed, a burst of dust with every step. Querion gasped in surprise as he felt Relic brush past him, the latter's speed far too quick for the wolf-bot to react to. He soared across the expanse of land, hand outstretched, as if to grab Timber. Querion roared, the cannons on his back clicking as the plasma bolts seared the air, towards the dark figure.

There was a crackle and a fizzle, and an inaudible "What?" from the lupine swordsman, when Relic caught an energy ball with his hand. The other streaked harmlessly past his face, barely illuminating his murky form, exploding into a tree in a brilliant fiery display. The assassin's clenched fist trembled slightly, a faint golden-yellow light glowing underneath it, his face twitching with intense concentration. He rose it over his head, and flung it downwards. The ground burst with a boom of smoke, leaving a charred spot on the ground.

Relic raised his hands, clawed and menacing, when his cloak suddenly exploded into menacing tendrils. The dark wisps whizzed towards Querion, wrapping him up and lifting him in the air in a tight deadly embrace. Two around his waist, two on each arm, and one on each leg. The wolf-bot struggled, but to no avail. The tendrils held firm. Querion's head suddenly snapped up in surprise, as a flat tendril snaked towards him, towards the direction of his head, its razor glint apparent. The Maximal tugged at the chains, managing just in time to cleave the razor tendril in two, snapping the fetters on his right arm in the process. The assassin staggered backwards slightly, as Querion slashed the tendrils binding his other arm and legs apart. He suddenly croaked in pain; looking down, he saw the two remaining tendrils dug deep into his flanks, mech-fluid dripping from them. Gritting his teeth, he yanked them out, and dropped to the ground.

Querion struggled to his feet, swaying to the left, then to his right. His sides were bloodied and marred; the tendrils had long dissipated into black mist. He shook his head to clear the fog, and fought back the cold that was attempting to overtake him. His eyes however, remained dark and menacing. He crouched, his fingers brushing the ground, then with a sudden burst of speed, sprinted towards Relic. Just 10 feet away, the wolf-bot leapt into the air, his blade poised to strike above his head, his battle-cry at his lips...

*PKRAAT... plikt plikt... PLA-KERRANG!!!*

The shattered sabre crashed to the ground, as its blade landed with a hollow ringing. Its wielder made the most noise however, as he dropped to his knees with a "thud!", and fell face-down into the dust.

Now, he had followed her and came upon a truly bizarre scene - Catfish (actually fighting, something that he'd never seen before), Querion and Timber attacking some black shadowy...thing.

A grin breaking across his face, his puzzlement over Mimi momentarily forgotten, Corvus pulled out a beam sabre and ignited it with a sharp snap-hiss!

"Hey, big'n'ugly!" he shouted at the enemy, waving the sabre so that its bright glowing beam would attract the creature's attention. "You look like a pretty good one in the dark...how d'ye think you can handle the light?"

However, Relic took no notice of him, occupied with Querion; the avian stood out of the way as he allowed his friend to deal with the abomination, and grinned as he saw the wolf's signature slash...

Then recoiled in amazement as the lupine bot was swiftly defeated, his broken and shattered sword dropping to the ground near his battered body.

"Querion!!" Corvus called out in shock, and was about to run over and try to help his comrade; then, however, a side of him that he usually kept buried struggled its way to the surface. His ruby optics' blaze suddenly jumped up a notch, and his grip tightened on his sword as a growl arose deep in his throat.

Then, with a defiant yell, he lunged at the monster that was Relic, beam sabre at the ready...

“Looks like they need our help.” He said to his friend without even turning around. “Whatever that…. thing.. is, we need keep it occupied until our friends can get here.”

Burnout heard of some strange murders over his arm computer as they approached the group approached the town. Something about those dark tendrils tipped him off this was the thing they were looking for. But what of the form they took? He knew it to be of Relic, that dark assassin guy. It was very strange indeed. But this wasn’t the time to ponder, action had to be taken.

“You take Catfish out of here while I try to keep it busy.” He told Retro.

With the element of surprise on his side, Burnout shot off a wing missile toward the ground in front of the creature as he ran out into the fray, shotgun ready. Retro used this diversion to run up to Catfish, wrap his hands around her waist, and start dragging her out of the fray

"S'okay, it's okay..." he murmured, feeling her sob and shake against his chest. "I know, it's bad."

After a moment, she calmed down and looked up at him, sniffling. Buckshot held his hands to her cheeks, looking into her optics.

"I'm gonna find whoever did that..." he told her gently, "-And I'll hurt them. I'll get their sorry ass put away for a long time. And you can help me with this. If you want to."

Scope brings his claws up as he nears the black figure. The tendrils snake out and darkness emenates from him like smoke. The dark figure seems entirely unconcerned with the three 'bots that are about to attack him... but Scope knows he is ready.

Scope and Corvus meet the black figure at the same time... Corvus hitting him head on and Scope coming in at the left side. They both strike down at once... the tendrils shoot out as if each has its own life, and they wrap around the hands of both assailants, holding them with a strength unnatural for a 'bot. Both Corvus and Scope leap up and strike out with their free legs, and just at this moment Burnout arrives and makes his move...

"Hammer time! Doo do do do.."

At the same moment that the com team entered the city, drawing ever closer to their deadly reunion with the assassin Relic, another group of Maximals stood on the edges of the forest gazing grimly at the place’s dark hulking shape. Ahead of them lay a wide tract of flat open land, which they would have to cross before entering Endport proper. They would make the run under the cover of night, true, but that made it no less dangerous. They would be completely exposed for the time it took to cross the grassy expanse. The moon burned brightly above their heads, as if searching for the metal they concealed beneath their Beast exteriors. Searching for a reflective surface with which to betray them. Doubtless there would be Predacon sentries on watch farther down. All it would take was one flash and they were dead.

Danger seemed to threaten from all sides, and their mission had just begun. For a moment all were silent, each ‘bot contemplating an attack that they had only a marginal chance of surviving.

“So, Switch,” Solarflare ventured quietly. “What do you think you’re going to do after you get off of this **** hole?” Switchblade swiveled her badger head to the side momentarily and eyed the gold finch, whose color seemed to be more brown than yellow in the darkness. After the moment had passed she turned her eyes back toward Endport, saying nothing. Though no one saw it, Solarflare cringed at his callous use of the pet name ‘Switch’. He too turned his attentions to Endport, all the while wishing that he had kept his mouth closed.

There was silence again for a few seconds. “I don’t know.” Switchblade whispered at last. “I haven’t looked that far ahead yet.” Her eyes never strayed from the darkened city and the few tiny lights burning in the distance. “I suppose I’ll go back to what I do best: ferrying the universe’s dirty little secrets back and forth. I don’t really know how to do anything else.” She paused. “It pays well,” she added as an afterthought. Something in the tone said that her mind was far from made up.

Solarflare nodded slowly. There was an opening there, a chance, if only he would take it. The finch ‘bot opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated, and closed it again. No, not now. It was too soon. After they had completed their mission would be a better time. If all went well the two of them would be off planet and on their way to Cybertron. Then he could tell her what was going on in his mind. They could work together. Be partners. Watch each other’s backs. In time, maybe, they could even become…

“…Over dinner?”

The words were faint and on the very edge of his keen sense of hearing. Quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts and looked for Switchblade again. To his surprise he found that she had moved, and that Wraith was speaking to her in hushed tones.

He heard the words again in his mind, and a puzzled look came over his face. Dinner? What could Wraith possibly want with food at a time…

Realization dawned on him suddenly and cruelly. His heart nearly skipped a beat. Jealousy flooded his systems, mech fluid pounding in his ears. It was an irrational response, but he didn’t care. How dare the hormonal little prick! He loved Switchblade, not Wraith! Fighting down the desire to scream at the grinning interloper, Solarflare strained his audio sensors to hear her response. It was not long in coming.

“…Think it’s time we parted ways.” he heard her say. There was more, but he could not pick it up. Wraith’s shadowy features took on a look of guarded disappointment, though not of defeat. After all, she hadn’t rejected him outright. For Solarflare, though, it was enough. A wave of relief spread throughout his body, and he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Switchblade turned her head at the sound, surveying both him and the nearby Weede. “Ok,” she began in a louder voice. “Let’s get this over with. When we get into the city, the three of you stick behind me about half a block. I’ll draw all the attention, and you guys pick off any guards that pop up in my wake. We’re going to go in by one of the middle sized doors at the front of the building. Once we’re inside, everybody go their separate ways. Weede,” she said.

“Huh?” replied the sloth in a sleepy voice.

“Just destroy anything that looks important, and then get back to Burnout’s ship. Got that?” Weede nodded. None the less, the courier was less than certain that her words had sunk in. “Wraith,” she continued. “You know what you’re doing, so get to in as soon as we clear the door.” Finally she turned to Solarflare. “Solarflare,” she halted for a moment, as if considering something. “You stay close to me. Where we’re going, I might need an extra arm. I’m not as adept at sneaking around as Wraith is. Avoiding notice yes, but sneaking no. That’s an important difference when you’re very much out of place like we’ll be.” Switchblade took a deep breath. “Ok,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The small group dashed out from the cover of the trees, making a beeline toward the city. Luck ran with them, and they were not detected, even as they crossed into the narrow streets of Endport itself. To the observant eye (and there were many that night which failed to detect the four) they seemed nothing more than shadows. A shade darker than their surroundings, but shadows never the less. They were dismissed as an illusion. A trick the optics played on a lonely sentry, guarding a city with power enough to deter even the most insistent army. As they darted across the plain, Switchblade drew closer to Solarflare. Their eyes connected for an instant, and Switchblade spoke; a hoarse whisper.

“I hate playing leader.” she said, and ran on. For his part, Solarflare offered no argument. They made it into the city, and on to the gates of the Predacon’s looming Concrete nerve center unnoticed and unmolested.

As they neared their destination, Switchblade moved out ahead of the group. Keeping to the shadows she made her way toward the massive concrete complex, being just careless enough to make any hidden watchers aware of her presence. At last she passed beyond the shelter of the surrounding terrain and stepped out into the pale blue wash of the moon as its light fell across the empty street encircling the building. She tilted her head allowing a long ray of light to flash off the curved end of her ‘helmet’. She walked slowly in the direction of her targeted entrance. An almost imperceptible movement alerted her to the presence of one, no, two guards hidden in the darkness beneath its high arch. Someone was aware of her presence. Someone who carried very large weapons.

Switchblade halted her progress as the silver muzzle of a heavy-duty laser cannon, aimed at the courier’s midriff, pierced the curtain of shadow. “Stop right there, or I’ll blow you from here to the docks.” came a gruff impersonal voice. The badger ‘bot obeyed, coming to an abrupt halt ten feet from the heavy blast door that stood between her and entry to the building. Slowly she raised her hands in the air, showing that she was unarmed. The gun muzzle didn’t flinch. Rather, it was joined by a second from the other side of the doorway. “Whaddya’ want?” came a second voice, deeper and more thuggish.

“Take it easy.” Switchblade soothed. “Just a a courier, making a scheduled delivery.”

A gruff snickering sound came from behind the first weapon. “Sure you are.” the voice said in a mocking tone. “Where are your papers?”

“Got ‘em right here.” Switchblade replied, drawing a small data disk from a tiny port on her cargo cylinder. The two weapons remained trained on her as she slowly showed her hands again. One empty, the other clutching a data disk. “Which one should I give…”

“Give it here.” said the thuggish voice. A thick muscled arm thrust itself from the shadows, palm outstretched. Carefully, the courier placed the minute disk in its center. The armored hand retracted and there was a metallic shuffling as the guard placed it to a reader in his left ear. Though his gun sagged, the first’s weapon remained steady as a rock.

A contemptuous snort issued from the second ‘bot’s position. The second gun rose to the level of her head and stopped. “No dice,” the thug said, “You’re more than a month late.” In the darkness, the Pred handed his partner the disk, which he in turn placed to his ear. “I’m gonna’ enjoy blowing your lying skid plate to high….”

“Wait.” came the first voice. “If you’re an armed courier, why didn’t you follow your time schedule? And why are you here so late? We could shoot you on sight.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get onto this planet? I had to wait this long just to smuggle myself down here.” Switchblade replied indignantly. She was gambling here, hoping that the right amount of indignation would make her seem unaware of the danger she was in, and therefore less harmful. “As for the time of day, what does it matter?” she continued. “I’m here now, so I’m going to make my delivery. And get my money.” Neither Predacon responded. Switchblade began to worry. Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

“Ok.” said the first ‘bot. “Just tell me what you’re carrying and I’ll let you in.”

“No.” replied Switchblade without hesitation.

“What?!” cried the second Pred. His hold on his gun stiffened noticeably, as though he was going to fire. He moved his finger to the trigger, but froze when the other ‘bot held up a hand.

“Why not?” the first Predacon asked coolly.

“I can’t tell you because I don’t know what I’m delivering.” Switchblade said. “That’s part of the contract. It’s always part of the contract. No questions. That’s how you make a profit in this business.” She was telling the truth, she never did look, normally at least. The sincerity pushed her over the edge.

“Alright.” said the first guard. Take the lift in the lobby up to the twenty-seventh floor. They’ll take what you’ve got, and give you your money.” Across the doorway, his companion turned and gave him a perplexed look. Both guns slowly lowered until the pointed at Switchblade’s kneecaps rather than her chest. “Get going.” the first ‘bot finished.

“No, my orders were to deliver this directly to the hands of an officer by the name of…”

“You can do that there too.” The first Pred growled. Slowly he opened the heavy door and let the badger slip quietly through. The door closed lethargically behind her. As it did so, the two guards turned toward each other.

“We should have wasted her!” insisted the second.

“Scrap-head,” the other spat back. “Did you even listen to those orders, or were you to preoccupied with murdering the little piece of scum? Her orders check out, with encrypted high level clearance. What’s more, she’s making a hand delivery to that psycho Spat! A lieutenant you ass! Answers to the Big Boss and that’s it. You’re bumbling could have gotten us slagged!”

The two were so concerned with the Transformer they let pass, that they never noticed as a trio of Maximals emerged from out of nowhere, ambushing them. They fell quickly, quietly, and brutally. Weede wedged one large claw into the crack of the blast door just before it shut itself. Leaving the bodies of the two Preds to lie in the shadows, the three darted into the building and were gone. Inside they found Switchblade sitting nonchalantly on a black marble security desk, the bodies of several armed guards lining the floor; knife hilts protruding from their dead throats. The courier smiled.

They were in.

"Did you see...?" he started.

"See what?" Eternity replied.

"Um...nothing."

That poor lady was starting to screw with his head. He shook it off. He glanced down at Eternity.

"All right. When we get the chance, we'll put the bastard who did this DOWN. In the meantime..."

Buckshot gestured to the comms console, and Eternity nodded and took a seat in front of it. She booted up the console and slipped the headset on. Buckshot stood behind her, hands on the seat.

A few seconds later, Eternity's soft voice penetrated the various Maximals' ears.

//"All teams, this is Eternity, reporting from my shuttle comms station with Buckshot. What is your status?"//

---------------

Weede heard the transmission, and tried to answer it, but Switchblade shook her head. They needed silence. The Maximals crept down the hallway, and slid up behind a corridor. Swithblade looked around, and saw a single bored guard pacing around.

'Someone take him down', she mouthed silently to the others.

Weede giggled and nodded. He stepped out from behind the corner.

"Hey, guard dude! Uh, you suck! Shyeah!"

Weede spun and ran, and the guard chased after him. A second later, the guard slumped down against the far wall, energy burns adorning his chest. Weede gave a thumbs-up to the others, and tripped and fell on his face, and then got up and gave them another thumbs up.

"Uh huh huh uh huh, damn I'm good."

Well, now that his distraction was on it's way, he set off to search for the Predacon officer. He had an image of him that Rhapsody had given him, so all he had to do was match-that-face, and then slash his ugly mug in two.

Not too hard. He set off through the upper chambers and began his search, carefull to avoid coming too close to the guards.