Making Things Right: Part 2
The begining of the final Operation on Endport, the Maximals are forced to find a way off the planet, to try and salavage Justice. However they will face one of their toughest taskes along the the way, Fighting one of their own...
PART TWO
The abominations burning eyes moved from the retreating penguin to the fall upon the carefully wrapped gift placed on the ground before him. Around him the Maximal’s were circling in closer. Suddenly Relic’s eyes widened and a feral hiss escaped his lips as the unmistakeable ticking noise registered in his mind. The abomination threw himself from his perch and into the air as behind him as the ticking stopped.
The sound that replaced it was deafening as the wall where Relic had waited only moments before simply vanished as a massive pillar of flame erupted raged skyward, moments later flaming debris came crashing to the earth.
Relic was pressed against a wall trying to stay as far away from the billowing flames and bright light as he could, his expression seemingly pained. The searing heat bothering them only slightly the Maximal’s pressed their attack and began their advance again.
Abruptly a flaming piece of rubble came crashing to earth directly in front of the assassin, the debris meteoric descent took it straight through the mass of writhing darkness that surrounded the assassin, and the flames seemingly cut through it like butter. Relic screamed, but the sound was unnatural, like nothing produced by a Transformer. The dark figure stumbled away from the spot were the debris had landed, the darkness re-establishing itself slowly, almost hesitatingly. The assassin’s fiery eyes darted back and forth as it gazed at the approaching Maximal’s, looking like a frustrated animal, emitting feral hisses and snarls.
Relic again lowered himself, the darkness coalescing around him strengthening before spring forward again, a wicked snarl tearing from his lips as he met his opponents head on.
Buckshot glanced down at Eternity in the seat.
"Of course no one's responding. In every flick I've ever seen, the teams on the mission never, ever respond to transmissions. How the hell do so many cliches transfer into real life?"
Eternity giggled.
"Most of them don't." she replied.
"Sure they do. Check this out: The teams off base never answer transmissions. If somebody says they have a bad feeling about this, something crappy is gonna happen. No mission ever goes through without a twist. There is always a good girl and a good girl who turns out to be a bad girl. It's never the green wire. The terrorists are always German. It's never about revenge, it's about money. The good guy always hates life, usually because of a dead or missing wife. Bombs are always disarmed a second before they blow, car chases between civilians never involve the police, the first two films of a trilogy happen on Christmas but not the third, security guards are always inept and nervous, police chiefs are always yelling and angry, the FBI never helps-"
"Stop, stop!" Eternity laughed. "You watch too many movies, Bucky!"
"I didn't finish! One more cliche."
"What's that?"
"The studly guy Maximal is stuck in a shuttle in the middle of a forest with a cute girl Maximal..."
"And what happens?"
"That's entirely up to the cute girl Maximal."
" Up to me huh Bucky. Wanna teach me some facts of life?" Eternity said smiling seductively up at her. The ship also flashed that disk at him again. " Please?" She pouted a bit. " I mean...we can't very well do anything else..except sit here and stare at the walls....but with the dead body...I'd rather stare at you." Eternity reached her hand up to his neck and pulled him down lower. She kissed him on the lips.
Buckshot's optics widened as Eternity's soft lips pressed against his. The two stayed like that a moment, then disengaged. Eternity glanced up at him, her hands resting on his shoulders. Buckshot blinked and then smiled at her, working on completely disregarding the data disk in favor of this.
"Lots more things to do than just stare." he replied, and then took her into his arms, kissing her deeply.
--------------
The lift doors slid open and Weede stumbled out into the corridor after Solarflare and Switchblade, glancing around wildly. He trotted up to them, singing softly.
"I'm a dude, he's a dude, she's a dude, we're all dudes, hey! I'm a dude, he's a dude, she's a dude, we're all dudes, hey!"
Eternity thrusted herself tightly against Buckshot's chest. After releashing from the kiss she giggled as if drunk. To Eternity that seems to be the effect of the kiss for the moment. " Oh Bucky....that was special." She said trailing a finger slightly up his neck and onto his lips.
"Weakness!" Penji exclaimed to no one in particular. "But what?" He didn't know if it was the heat of the explosion, or the sound, or the light, or just the blast itself. It wouldn't be all that hard to figure it out though. He transformed and pulled out his rocket launcher again, this time blasting the nearest wooden structure to the beast, setting it afire. Instantly, Relic was bathed in heat and light.
"Damned special." Buckshot replied, nodding. "Are you new at this?"
"Mmm-hmm." Eternity responded.
"Ohhh, BABY. You got quarters on this shuttle?"
"Well...we do need to monitor transmissions. So we'd better to stay in the room." Eternity said, kissing him softly.
"You're right." Buckshot said decisively, playing along. "We have a mission to keep up on. I suggest...that table over there."
In one fluid motion, he hefted Eternity up and cradled her in his arms. She gasped and slung her arms around his neck, laughing helplessly as he carried her to the table, pushed aside some equipment, and laid her on it. The two Maximals embraced, kissing.
An inhuman bellow tore out of the Abomination’s mouth as the wave of light washed over him, all around him the dark snakelike appendages diminished, seeming to melt away under the bright flickering light of the flames. A tongue of flame leaped out, crossing the surface of the cloak of darkness that surrounded the assassin. Immediately the darkness vanished, either withdrawing from the fire or destroyed by it.
The abomination stumbled away from the inferno, his frightening lethal grace gone to be replaced by a hunched over, wounded stagger. The assassin fell against a shadowed wall, and slowly the muted darkness began to slowly grow, and the abomination’s weakened frame seemed to began growing stronger.
"Timber? Snap out of it girl!" Querion almost screamed, shaking the she-wolf from side to side. Her body dropped limply into the warrior's arms, eyes vacant, her mouth trembling. Querion turned to purvey the fiery scene, and bit his lip. He felt tugged, drawn to the battle, yet unable to leave the helpless Timber.
Querion cradled Timber in his arms, and hefted her over to a side.
"I know this isn't very kind of me, to leave you here all alone, but that's one monster we have to stop," the wolf-bot whispered into Timber's ears, not caring if she heard. He stroked her hair, gave her a soft chaste peck on the forehead, then threw himself into the battle. Mech-fluid flowed freely from his sides, caked with grime and dirt; his face was marred with bruises and cuts, but the grip he had on his sabre was strong and tight, betraying no hint of lack of vigour.
Relic's tendrils writhed freely about him, forming a protective umbrella from the raging fire. The darkness never got too close, while the flames threatened to lick it. The assassin's body twitched, seeming stiff and fettered. A tendril rushed towards Querion with half-hearted determination, easily brushed aside by a single stroke from the wolf-bot. He ducked another, and stood face-to-face with the thing he once called friend.
"This is for breaking my blade!" he roared, stabbing Relic in the spark chamber with the sabre. He drove it deeper, twisting it around in the black miasma. The abomination snarled, as a fist buffeted the wolf-bot in the face, sending him sprawling on the dirt ground. His weapon clattered harmlessly beside the assassin, to which he paid no heed. Relic advanced menacingly, a dark towering form over Querion's prone body. The latter's hands scraped the floor, scrambling for something, a weapon. His finger found a long wooden plank, and as Relic raised a clawed hand, Querion swung the plank towards his opponent. The abomination leapt backwards, exclaiming in alarm, his cry a sinister symphony of voices.
The wolf-bot rose to his feet, waving his newfound weapon in front of him, the orange-red flames dancing about its wooden tip. He spied his sabre on the ground, and rolled over, snatching it up in a fluid motion, and brandished both weapons in front of him in an intimidating battle stance.
"Jackpot!"
He'd narrowed it down to heat, light, and fire. Now just some process of elimination..
Penji opened up his jacket (technically front side panels, but it looked like a tuxedo jacket) revealing eight small, but bright, lasers, which he fired in the general direction of the beast, regardless of who was in the way trying to fight it hand to hand. Querion instinctively jumped out of the way and scowled at the funny little bot, but the beast recoiled as well. Not as much as h had for the big fire, but this was much less light. Satisfied for now, Penji ceased fire, allowing Querion and the others to get back to whatever they were doing. The tuxedoed bot began pulling various items out of subspace, rigging something up.
[Predacon Headquarters – Solarflare, Switchblade, and Weede’s position]
Armies, especially those that include high level functionaries or deal with matters outside of running a military campaign, are very large costly beasts. While such an operation does carry its own weight in soldiers and weapons, in also supports a large compliment of support personnel. The Preds were no exception to the rule. Behind the scenes existed a large network of non military Transformers, from the ‘bot who cleans the floors, to the space dock workers, to the High Commander’s personal aids. Often times ‘bots were transferred in solely to look out for the needs and desires of those Army officers currently in favor with their commander.
Cutter was one such aid, a small thin Predacon, barely of any use to the Army except as a glorified chambermaid. Since the occupation began his task had been to remain at the beck and call of a Pred Military officer named Spat. As he barreled down the richly finished corridors toward his masters quarters, it was exactly this service that he had in mind. Spat, as it turned out, was a nasty and vindictive little creature with a quick temper and expensive tastes. Prone as he was to violent mood swings, and angered by what he considered to be substandard housing, the flying monkey raged regularly at the diminutive Cutter, blaming him for the lack of ‘necessities’ at his disposal. In the absence of more common luxury, Spat seemed to take sadistic pleasure in tormenting his personal assistant, threatening his life and running him ragged on long, complicated, and ultimately useless errands. This time, he had sent Cutter to scrounge food. Energon snacks of all things. Knowing full well that they were a scarce commodity in Endport, and held only by the upper echelons, Spat had ordered him to steal them if necessary, informing Cutter in an offhanded manner that he would “Seriously regret it” if he returned empty handed. In the end he had needed to sneak into the rooms of the murderous Grapple to get his hands on even a small amount of the worthless candies. He didn’t want to be around when Grapple found them missing. Cutter knew that it might be himself that turned up missing next. On the other side of the coin, however, he was just as dead if he didn’t return to Spat’s chambers with his prizes. A bead of condensation at his temple and rolled off the side of his head and fell to the floor. His future looked far from bright.
Further down the hallway, just out of earshot, Switchblade and Solarflare stepped quickly off the lift and started down the hallway in Cutter’s direction. The pair was oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps as they grew ever closer. It was not through any fault of their own, but rather due to a gangly multi colored distraction.
“Weede?” Solarflare whispered, wondering how in the name of physics the Tie-dyed Transformer had managed to catch up with them. And beyond that, why.
“Weede!” hissed Switchblade, echoing her reluctant partner. In contrast, the courier’s voice held more than wonderment, it held the threat of violence. Around her she could feel the small measure of control she had over the next twenty or thirty minutes turn to dust. “What are you doing?” she spat. Weede giggled in response, and Switchblade’s optics burned brighter for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but never got the chance, for at that moment Cutter’s small blue form hurtled around a nearby corner smashing into her at full tilt. As the two crashed to the ground, Solarflare drew his pistols in a blink. To his eyes they had been discovered and were being attacked. Swiftly he trained his sights on the smaller ‘bot’s head, reached for the trigger, and stopped dead as he realized that the Pred was muttering, of all things, a string of gushing apologies.
“I beg your deepest pardons for my act of insolence madam, and apologize for this unfortunate incident which has caused you harm and delay and inconvenience, and beg you not to punish a mere servant for being hasty, for I am less than human, and inconsequential, and only wish to bring my master, the Lieutenant Spat, what he has requested and I’m sure awaits eagerly in his quarters. I beg for your mercy…please do not report me…I will do anything you want if you will just please forget my insult and…please I…”
Cutter’s driveling trailed off as he realized that Weede was laughing at him. His optics narrowed as he stared at the strange creature for a moment, noticing in particular that he was a Maximal. Very respectfully he looked up at Solarflare, and then down at Switchblade, who was just now pulling herself back to her feet. With surprise he noticed that they too appeared to be Maximals. In such a Predacon stronghold, the sight of three of them together was a strange thing. He began to back away wearily, turning as he did so that he went the direction he had initially been headed. “My apologies once again, I shall be about my errands and forget our meeting and…”
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Solarflare said and grabbed the ‘bot roughly by the neck and hauled him back a few paces.
“Nowhere, sir, only to my master. He will be angry that I haven’t returned. He will hurt me for it surely. Please do not make me any later…”
“You’re master, Spat, right?” said Switchblade.
“Yes,” Cutter choked out, still clutched tightly about the throat. “He is very important, one of His favorites.” Cutter gagged but then stammered on. “Please let me go. He will get angry, and then there will be trouble for you. And for me! Please…gakk!!” Solarflare dropped him unceremoniously to the floor. Cutter folded up and dabbed his throat gingerly with the tips of his fingers. Weede continued to chuckle at the entire scene. He mumbled a comment, voicing his opinion that Solarflare’s choke hold had been ‘cool’ and ‘just like wrestling on the Vid Screen’. Solarflare shot him a silencing look. Weede laughed more softly to himself and contemplated pulling out his bong and getting high.
Meanwhile, Switchblade stepped forward, positioning herself so that she loomed over the collapsed Predacon functionary. “Don’t worry,” she said, “There won’t be any trouble. In fact, I’m glad we bumped into each other. You see, I’m looking for your boss too. He sent for an armed courier delivery some months ago, and I’ve come to make my drop. Check with security if you want, we’ve been cleared up to this floor.”
Cutter’s eyes lit up with surprise and hope. Could this possibly be the missing courier? The one Spat had threatened to kill? His hopes rose even further. Could she be carrying… Cutter became painfully aware of the few paltry energon snacks he had pilfered from Grapples quarters. They were of poor quality, and Spat would be upset. But it was what he had wanted at the time. But now…now he had something better to offer. He could usher the small group in and give their presents to Spat. He could take the credit for it. Perhaps Spat would even be pleased. Surprised. Happy even! Cutter pulled himself awkwardly off the ground, hand still at his bruised throat.
“No, no,” he stammered. “There is no need to call. You are expected, though, if I may be so bold as to say, quite late?”
Switchblade nodded. “We had trouble getting here, but here we are. Better late than never, and my fee will be held at discount for the elapsed time. Company rules.” Along side her Solarflare stood silent. His guard remained up, expecting an attack that never came. He wanted Switchblade out of the building alive, and wouldn’t let some chance encounter get the better of him. No matter how convenient it seemed.
“Excellent! My master will be pleased that you are so fair and reasonable in such a dark business as Armed Delivery.” Cutter exclaimed, trying to make the courier and her friends feel wise and even handed. “Follow me, I’ll take you to his quarters, and you may wait for him there. He will surely want to see you as soon as possible. He has been waiting for you for a very long time now.” Without another word, the small blue ‘bot shot off down the hallway, headed for his master’s rooms. Solarflare, Switchblade, and even Weede (though he followed at a slight distance) followed quickly behind. The finch and badger ‘bots exchanged brief, but wary glances. Secretly, Switchblade had hoped to bypass this Spat, whoever he was, altogether, and go straight for the complex’s security grid. Now that seemed quite impossible. They would just have to roll with it, and hope that their ‘contact’, could tell them what they needed to know. And in short order.
"Right this way ma'am, and a sirs." Cutter said nearly bowing as the pair entered into spats room.
"Keep an eye on him." Solarflare said gruffly pointing at weede. "Don't let him get into anything." Cutter nodded and opened the door to spats quarters further and the two enetered.
Cutter called from behind them "Uh sir."
"WHAT YOu better have my ENERGON SNACKS!"
"Well sir i have something better for you, this is the courier you were waiting for and her assiastant. They have your package." Cutter clinched for the retort.
"Cutter, you have actually done somthing right for a change."
"Thank you s...."
"NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Cutter hunched over satisfied with the compliment and made his way back to the small resception room and sat taking watch of weede.
"Where the hell have you been! Don't you know how long i have been waiting for these you stupid female!" Solarflare's eyes lowered but switch gave him a glance and the finch relaxed. "I should drop you were you stand! Now give them to me!" Spat's left arm grew out snatching the cylander from switchblade as she shifted back startled.
"What about her money?" Solarflare said. Switchblade froze up knowing he should not have said that.
"MONEY MONEY! YOUR A MONTH LATE! and you maximals..." He voice became evil and lower as the last part of that sentance came from his mouth.
"We don't want any trouble." Switchblade said taking a step forward.
"Well maybe you should have delevered my ..... A large crash was heard outside as grabble burst through the door with cutter in his hands.
"WHERE IS MY STUFF YOU STUPID LITTLE MONKEY!" Grapple shouted throwing down cutter. The small pred ran to the door and shut them, hopeing to drown out any noise so he wouldn't get yelled at by any higher ups. Weede also found his way into the room. "WHAT WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE!"
"You know these maximals?"
"THEY ARE PART OF THE RESISTANCE!" Grabble yelled and spat moved for the secuirty button. Two throwing knifes impacted the rear wall, one into the secuirty mechanism shorting it out and the other into spats hand. Solarflare reacted with a plasma blast directly into Grabbles torso and the fight began. Spat bleed from his hand trying to pull himself free. "Cutter CALL SECUIRTY!" The predacon made a move to the door and then stopped.
Every death threat and smack in the face came back to cutter in a rush and the predacon stopped in his tracks. Cutter stared spat in the face andd grinned. He smiled so brightly that it even caused switch to smile for that split second. Spat looked in terror at his "Go for." "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT GO GET SECUIRTY!" Cutter as being knocked out of a daze ran to the wall and ripped the knife out of spats and hand. The monkey moved freeley and went for his comm but then found the knife planted in his throat. Two more followed this time from switchblade. Cutter smiled at his revenge as spat coughed and fell to the floor bleeding.
However Grabble was not laughing at all.
-Gaiana, Outer Orbit-
"Not possible."
"......"
"I said, not possible, I refuse!"
"......"
"It's under Pred occupation, dammit! We'll be shot down before we get anywhere near planetfall!"
"....Your point?"
The captain leaned back against his seat and smirked at the brooding form before him. "I will not take this ship down." A hand waved languidly at the view on the primary screen. "Take a good look old man, 'cause this is as close as you're likely to get."
The other 'bot unfolded from his seat by the bulkhead, causing the more diminutive captain to lean even further back in his chair. Slowly, the massive form stomped across the bridge until it stood over the now-smirkless captain. Ham fists dropped to the arms of the chair and gripped them with a sound like ropes being pulled taut. Expressionless black optics bored through the blanching officer and appeared to do an in-depth study of his spark, apparently not liking what they found. "Now you listen to me, you cowardly jackass, did you leave your bearings at home on this trip?" The voice was low, rumbling like boulders down a mountainside, and grating against the captain's audio receptors like a fistfull of gravel. "Now turn around, fire this piece of junk up, and take me planetside before I fold you up and ram your head so far up your skidplate you can count your vocal circuits!
"...But.."
The heavier 'bot snarled and backhanded the captain across the face, slinging him across the bridge to the port bulkhead at high velocity, and slid to deck, unconscious. The attacker grunted amicably and squeezed into the vacant seat, which squealed as the stressed steel tried to cope with his weight. Then he looked up at the other crew members who stared at him in various states of surprise and dismay. "I can wrestle this tub down alone, you know." The crew blanched and leapt back to their stations. "Soonest done, soonest over. Let's get this done quickly, shall we?"
-Planetside, and Much Later-
Mandrake stared up at the departing ship and counted all the burns and stress fractures accumulated in the descent. "Should be fine, the captain's good at running." he mumbled to noone in particular. "Time to hit the town." The old Maximal dropped into his ironclad beast mode and stumped off down a randomly chosen trail that looked to be in the right direction.
" Whoa....kinda eager to teach aren't we puppy?" Eternity said smiling seductively without knowning she was. " Aggressive too..." She runs his hands down his chest plate slowly and then back up just as slow. " Nice...."
Burnout worked feverishly as he tapped more buttons on his wrist gauntlet. The small holo-emmitor popped out of the end of the device and powered up.
Throughout this battle, he learned one thing, that critter no like light. And light was what Burnout was aiming to deal out. He was sorry he didn’t bring his flare gun, so he the fuzor had to resort to ruining the holo crystals in the emitter. But those things were cheep nowadays, and getting in a crippling blow on that… thing, was gunna be worth every credit of it.
As Querion held the creature at bay, Burnout leapt out of the shadows and with a press of a button, unleashed a flashlight beam of white, pure, light. The crystals could only withstand a few minutes at this intensity, he hoped, as he directed the beam toward Relic, that it would be enough.
Retro was having a slight problem with transporting Catfish to a safe location due to the fact she didn’t seem to want to be transported and she could wriggle very well when she had to.
“Leme go! I want to see Relic!”
“That’s a very BAD idea right now ‘Fish.” The diminutive Maximal said attempting to drag back a bot who was about his size and strength and not having much luck with it, “Just let the rest of the team handle it.”
“NO! Lego!” Catfish finally managed to squirm free of Retro’s grasp and shot off back to the battle. The possum sighed and trotted after her.
---------------------------------
Rita hovered to a stop and took in the chaotic scene. She wished she’d gotten here earlier. Now she was going to have to wait until whatever was going on to be over before asking someone what the pit was going on. Ah well, the team seemed to be handling the big black, ugly looking creature. She shifted her weight to turn and zoomed over to check on Timber who didn’t appear to be moving.
Bright light flooded the alleyway, blinding most of the bots, who had to shield their eyes to see clearly. As soon as the light had flashed into being, the abomination had begun shrieking, at first with dangerous feral rage, but soon that dissolved into pained howling. The light had obliterated all shadow in the alleyway, and the abombination had nowhere to run, standing frozen in place. His own shadows whipped about him, as if blown by wind, and slowly began to melt away, withdrawing inside of him even as he screamed. The creature covered it’s eyes with it’s clawed hands, and sickly green light could be seen pouring through the cracks between fingers. The creature staggered back and forth, more and more of Relic’s battered frame becoming visible, before finally the last of the ink black tendrils slipped inside his chest. The assassin still stood, his mouth open as he screamed in agony, as if on fire. Blazer watched as tiny fracture lines shivered up the side of the holo-crystal, incandescent energy pouring through them. Finally, with stress lines crisscrossing its surface, the little crystal blew apart, releasing a light brighter then anything before, and Blazer had to look away quickly to avoid being blinded. There was a final despairing wail from the assassin, and then the alley returned to darkness.
Once there eyes had adjusted to the light, the Maximal’s could see Relic, still standing, though weaving unsteadily, the green light in his eyes muted. Instantly Penji’s rocket snapped down into a prone position and the cannibal snapped off a shot. The rocket sped toward its target. The low-yield rocket struck the assassin dead on, the explosion sending the dark Maximal flying like a rag doll, and doing massive damage to his frame as well. The assassin came to rest in a crumpled heap some ways back. At some point during Blazer’s ploy, Timber had finally collapsed, and now rested in Rita’s arms. Penji was already loading up another rocket as others primed their weapons but Querion suddenly raised a warning hand.
He crept forward, his torch held in front of his warily as he approached the prone form of his old friend. Relic’s body was badly battered by the explosion and the battle. His body was covered in cuts and lacerations and metallic bruises. His Spark, could be seen dimly flashing through a rent in his chest As he drew nearer, the assassin’s eyes flickered to life, the evil green glow still burning in his optics. Though it was muted and Relic’s familiar red could be seen faintly glowing beneath them.
“Relic?” Querion breathed…
The assassin’s eyes turned towards the sound of the voice, looking past him blankly. “Querion? I… I feel so… help me… please…” Querion took a step wary forward, suddenly the assassin’s expression clouded over. “NO… for Primus sake NO!… don’t come closer… don’t touch me… their… there’s something… hungry here… something… hungry… something… inside…” Suddenly Relic’s face took on a horrified turn. “Oh Primus… Oh PRIMUS! Something INSIDE ME! INSIDE ME!” The assassin screamed, suddenly beginning to writhe feebly, his eyes showing the most profound horror and disgust Querion had ever seen. Seemingly unable to take whatever he was confronted with, the assassin’s eyes went dark as he slipped into unconsciousness. The green glow could still be seen however, a pinprick of evil fire lurking in the centres of his eye. Querion’s eyes narrowed, he peered through the rent in the assassins chest at his spark, something was different about the spark though… something covered it, surrounded it… a haze? A Shadow?
Querion remembered his friend’s horrified look, that look of utter despair and came to a sudden decision. Where Querion a religious bot he would of prayed that his assumption was right, but he was not and it was with a look of grim determination he brandished his torch above his head.
“Forgive me…” he breathed, then brought the flaming torch down on Relic’s chest. The effect was instantaneous, Relic’s back arched and his eyes blazed to life, his arms shot out and his claws grasped feebly at the air as a terrible scream was torn from his lips. He stayed like that trembling violently, as the torch seared the metal on his chest. But inside something was happening, there was a different sort of screaming, a screaming like a thousand voices… a tortured sound full of suffering and hate and corruption and decay. Sickly green energy came pouring out of the assassin’s eyes and mouth, gathering above him. Abruptly the flow of power stopped, and Querion on an impulse removed the torch from Relic’s burned frame. The green energy crackled and sparked as dark shadow wreathed around it, it hovered above the assassin, just inches from Querion’s face, stinking of decay, death and a horrible instable hunger. With a final despairing howl of frustration the wraith like object retreated into the shadows of the alley and vanishing.
Querion stared at where the thing had vanished, wondering what it was that he had just seen. Whatever it was he didn’t like it… it had been so cold, and he could almost feel… something… something tugging at his mind, probing. Looking back down he saw Relic’s poor battered form abruptly shift into beast mode, the panther’s body mostly unmarked except for some singed fur. The panther’s eyes remained shut in stasis lock.
Timber remained in robot-mode, though she was equally comatose, cradled in Rita’s arms.
Querion bent down and gingerly checked the unconscious hunter for vital signs. It appeared he could live, if given the proper attentions. A C.R. chamber… if not a full cybertonian medic.
He could live, but what happened when he awoke? Would the “thing” inside of him truly be gone? Was he just a pawn or a willing participant… regardless of any mystical intervention…he had committed horrible crimes… crimes against life… and in Cybertronian law… Cybertronian justice, there was one punishment… one fate for a evil of such magnitude.
Death.
//Team two to control, come in control.// Rita said moments after she had discovered the events in the alley. On the other end of the line enterinty was snapped out of what she was "Occupied with" and answered the call.
//Control here, go ahead.//
//Send this message to team one commander "We ahve two maximals down in need of medical attention, have not yet completed objective, please advise."//
//Rodger that team two, one moment.//
Mimi was now sitting at the front desk of the Predacon buidling the others were in. Her and rhapsody had tricked the head desk secuirty officers to follow them and then gave them somthing else to think about. Mimi was now watching for anyone that came in and politley asking for ID and turning them away if possible. While Rhapsody stayed a little acorss the room so no one would notice her. Mimi had just made a joke about the preds would feel knowing their commander was dead when Rhapsody got the message.
//Team one this is control, come in team one.//Rhapsody was statled and turned the volume down on her comm.
//Team 2 here what is it?//Eternity delevered the message to the maximal commander and she thought hard for a moment.
Moments later Rita got a reply. //Team one says to send the injured along with burnout and retro and any other needed support to the getaway ship and have the others proced with thier mission immeditaly.//
//COpy that control.//
Back at the pred base Rhapsody was troubled, her decision sounded as if she didn't care but the song bird was now caught in a world of worry over the two that had fallen in combat.
Penji reverted to beast mode, and resumed his usual blank expression, perhaps even a little more blank than before. The joy of violence had been completely ruined by the sight of that.. thing coming out of Relic. It was alien, though somehow familiar, like his darkest secret, magnified a million times. Was that it, or was there a deeper connection than that? Whatever it was, it was beyond Penji's ability to understand, and so he was left only with feelings of.. regret? guilt? Only for an instant. Such things washed over him quickly, dissolving into anger.
He heard the commands come in over radio, to continue the mission.
"Right! Slag Preds!"
Querion stared down at his battered friend, the torch still clutched in his hand. He gazed at Relic for a few more minutes, and finally satisfied that the thing was gone, tossed the burning stick aside. He sheathed both pieces of his broken sabre into his waist, a temporary scabbard of sorts. He scooped his friend up gently, cradling the latter close to his chest, and turned around. The other Maximals said nothing, only watching as the wolf-bot strode towards Rita, his expression betraying only a concern for his fallen friends.
"Nearest CR Chamber?" the swordsman enquired, his eyes turning to study Timber. The she-wolf was propped up against the brick wall of a small shop, obviously deserted, her head falling to a side and her hair tousled. Her face was smooth and calm, untouched but by just a slightest hint of dirt.
"Just around the corner. Shouldn't be too hard to reach," Rita said, wringing her hands in a rare display of uneasiness. After a few tense moments, she asked, "Is he...?"
"He's still breathing. Barely. I suggest we move as quickly as possible."
"Here," offered the mink, as her hoverboard floated beside Querion. The wolf-bot placed the assassin on it, feeling it sink slightly under the weight. He picked up Timber too, and placed her tenderly beside Relic. The board dipped even lower, but it appeared to be able to take their weights.
The sentient board started for the mentioned CR Center, followed by Querion and Rita. The other Maximals trailed behind them, like a large muted procession, truly a sight to behold. There was an occasional murmur from the streets, but it seemed to be nothing more than the whisper of the wind. They stopped in the middle of a junction, the larger portion of the team turning towards the direction of the warehouse, while Burnout, Retro, Querion and the two downed Maximals turned to the right, where the CR Center was supposed to be located.
The wolf-bot's shoulders sagged greatly, as though they bore a heavy weight of herculean proportions. His footsteps soon became stunted shuffles, his body swaying freely to each side. Corvus placed a concerned hand on the wolf-bot's back.
"You all right?"
"I'm... I'm fine," Querion replied, pushing the raven's hand away feebly. He started to cough uncontrollably, clutching his chest as he felt a molten pain surge through it. He dropped to his knees, his hacking cough not ceasing. His eyes widened in surprise, as he saw the first few drops of mech-fluid splatter on the ground. His eyelids fell like leaden weights, as he soon dropped into the ground, his chest heaving slightly. A small puddle of mech-fluid started to form around him, as his life slowly trickled out from the wounds in his side.
Graphics Provided by Riboflavin
