Making Things Right: Part 3
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 THREE
“SLAG it!” Rita yelled falling to her knees beside Querion, hoping he was just in stasis and not off line. He still lived, but that did little to stop the torrent of foul language that gushed from her mouth. Once done with her reaction she glared up at her troop.
“This is NOT good.” She took a deep breath and cooled down a little, “Burnout? Finish transporting the dead guys to the CR Center. After that get to the ship, they need you there.” She handed Querion’s limp form to the fuzor beside her and poked the hover board in his direction. Burnout nodded and turned to go, trailing mechfluid.
“Okay, I have no idea what just happened.” She informed everyone, “And I don’t want to know, but we’re finishing the mission now. Corvus? Where’s Catfish?”
The raven checked his link to the tracer he’d planted on the child, “She’s back where we were fighting.”
“Great, go get her and meet us at the big building that we’re supposed to wreck. Everyone else, come on. We’re moving.”
[Predacon Headquarters – Spat’s Quarters]
With a gurgling inhuman shriek, Spat felt the tip of the throwing knife as it pierced through metal and muscle and circuit. He could only stare in horror as Cutter drove the blade deeper and deeper, until it could go no further. Spat was stunned, and unable to move. He fell, seemingly in slow motion to the cold hard floor, and lay there motionless. With a gut wrenching suddenness, Spat knew that he was dying. Already a large sticky pool of blood was spreading outwards from his body. He watched with disgust as the edge of the pool hit the fringes of an ornately worked rug and began soaking into its edges.
He would have screamed. He would have cried. He would have lashed back at his unexpected attacker. He would have done all those things…but he couldn’t move. Tears of pure fear leapt to Spats optics, as he let loose a cry of mental anguish attainable only a creature of violence that has met an equally violent end. Spat watched in silence, vision growing ever cloudier, as the battle raged around him.
Grapple bellowed as he hoisted one of Spat’s ornate couches above his head and hurled it across the room amid a hail of bullets. Its spinning form connected brutally with Switchblade’s shoulder as passed, throwing her backward with a tremendous force. The carefully worked wooden frame shattered on impact, showering the fallen courier with thousands of jagged splinters. Her empty Stopper Pistol hit the ground with a clatter and slid out of sight beneath a heavy end table. Stunned herself, Switchblade lunged in the opposite direction, seeking momentary cover behind a fallen cabinet.
“Graaaaahhh!!” Grapple roared as he leveled a Shotgun Port and fired. In an instant, half of Switchblade’s cover blew apart into tiny fragments. Luckily, it was the half she hadn’t sheltered behind.
“Leave her alone!” screamed Solarflare. The finch ‘bot thrust his dual pistols forward and fired off a volley that slammed into the side of the huge tortoise’s head. Another savage roar issued from Grapple’s lips as he stumbled, off balance, hands shooting to his ear on the right side. Though not seriously wounded, a trail of mech-fluid streamed down from his ruined ear. The monstrous Predacon spun as he staggered, loosing a shotgun blast in Solarflare’s general direction. The shot went wide, shattering a black lacquered vase, and sending pieces flying through the air. Solarflare dove behind a couch and pulled and explosive charge. At the other end of the room, Grapple was far enough away that he might be able to use it. Solarflare raised up on his knees to throw, but halted in mid toss as a well-aimed shot from the recovering Grapple grazed the top of his cover. The tortoise charged and Solarflare threw the charge to meet him. The device exploded at chest level, knocking Grapple off of his feet and sending a thick gray cloud of smoke rising to the ceiling. Solarflare armed another charge.
Meanwhile, Weede had taken shelter in one corner of the room, ducking down to try and stay out of the line of fire. No more than a few feet away, sheltered by a heap of debris, sat Cutter, staring transfixed at Spats near lifeless body. Watching as the lights in his optics dimmed. Switchblade leaned out from her cover and shouted the Weede’s name. Along with a colorful string of expletives, of course. Weede jerked his head up, glancing nervously from Spat’s inert form to Switchblade’s position behind the ruined cabinet.
“Weede!” the badger ‘bot shouted over the roar of Solarflare’s explosive. “Get out of here and trash the security grid. Go!”
“Where is it?” Weede yelled back. He flinched as a second small explosion rocked the room to its foundations. Switchblade’s head popped back into sight.
“I don’t know!” she said. “Take him!” Weede followed the couriers outstretched finger until it connected with the small frozen form of Cutter. Weede understood. Quickly the multi-colored ‘bot scrambled over to Cutter, keeping low to the ground to avoid being shot at. He grabbed the little Transformer with a surprising amount of strength by his already bruised neck and dragged him toward the door. Cutter offered no resistance. Rather, he continued to stare blankly at the Spat’s bleeding form as he was taken forcible from the room. One could almost see the edges of a cruelly satisfied smile touching his lips as he disappeared around the corner.
For a moment there was quiet in the smoky room. Switchblade had nearly convinced herself that the danger was past when a deep rumbling laughter resounded throughout the mangled room. It ceased for an instant and then returned. Cautiously, both Solarflare and Switchblade lifted their heads and gazed across the room. Smoke from the pair of explosives still hung thick at the far end.
Suddenly a large dark form swelled up within the smoky shadow. As it stepped closer, the thick scared hide of Grapple could be made out more clearly. He stood stock still in the center of the room. Though his armor was blackened by smoke and dented in numerous places by bullets, he was far from defeated. Superheated plasma from Solarflare’s gun still lapped at the plating on his right shoulder and arm. So little did he heed their burning that they almost seemed as if they belonged to him. That he wore the flames out of choice, and not consequence.
“I was hoping we’d meet again, the three of us, before we crushed your little tin can Resistance.” he rasped. “Didn’t think it’d happen though. There’s lots of ‘bots here that could have gotten to you first. Guess I’m just lucky.” he continued.
“You didn’t do so well last time!” Solarflare shouted from his hiding place.
Grapple’s blackened features pulled back into a grim smile. “Neither did the two of you if I remember.” he said. “As I remember it, I nearly crushed the life out of pretty little…” The Predacon halted as Solarflare chambered a pistol round loudly. Grapple’s grin widened; grew crueler. “So is that how it is?” he asked with amusement. “Well, we’ll have some fun then won’t we? Maybe I’ll just beat you within an inch of your life and make you watch as I take that little tart over there…and make her scream.” It was a genuine remark (Grapple truly meant it), but also a ploy to rouse Solarflare’s anger. Grapple would have been pleased to hear the quickening of the finch ‘bots pulse, if he could have heard it. His ploy had worked, and worked well.
“I’ll kill you first you slagging monster!” Solarflare screamed.
“You’re welcome to try, little man. I’ll crush you like insect, and then you’ll look like that maggot over there,” He pointed to Spat. “Swimming in a pool of your own blood.” he finished.
Solarflare’s grip on his weapons tightened. A short distance away, Switchblade too eased out a weapon. Silently she unholstered her vibro-knife and began to judge the time it would take to jump Grapple from behind. As for the Predacon himself, Grapple remained where he was, goading Solarflare and waiting for a mistake. Tension hung as thick as the smoke that filled the air of the room.
Meanwhile, Weede, with a grinning Cutter in tow, drew ever closer to the base’s main security grid…
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Pred HQ
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Solarflare would use every last ounce, frget that micro once to make sure that Evil, sadistic monster would never touch switchblade again. The finch snarled almost feeling his rage fester inside him becoming energy, almost the same energy he felt when nocturna was killed. Solarflae stood from his hiding place and stared at Grabble unmoving, a stare that matched the intenisty of the battle across town. Grabble returned the look and a laugh. "OH NO the finch is angry, is he going to hurt me??" Grabble laughed as Solarflares eyes turned a blinding yellow and the hot plasma erupted onto Grabbles chest splashing all over until it ate away at the strong metal.
The turtle roared not in pain but in rage and lunged at the maximal with a muderous intent. The turtle made up the distance in no time and sntached up the finch in a moment. Solarflare felt pain as never before as Grabble fired a shotgun blast in solarflare. THe Maximal wrenched in pain so terrible that he could barely stay consoius. "NOW YOU CAN WATCH ME DISMANTLE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!" The Turtle Scream THe words into Solarflares face.
"THe @#%$ you will." He replied sticked a charge to the turtles face.
"AHHHH" Grabble threw Solarflare into a nearby wall and that the last thing he remebered until switchblade woke him up he assumed about ten minutes later. Her vibroblade dripped with mech fluid as solarflare saw in blurs of grabbles body laying in the corner. "Switch?." He coughed as layed to the ground. Switchblade leanred a small bit closer to here is request. "Can you get me a beer?" He said. The courier couldn't help but laugh. It was all up to weede and wraith now. Solarflare laughed at that too.
Weede ran through the hallways with Cutter, chuckling energetically.
"Huh huh uh huh uh huh, we're gonna kick the security grid's butt! Destroying the grid, dude! THERE IT IS!!!"
Weede tackled a stubby metal cylinder in a corner. He slammed his fists into it, denting it severely, and threw it against the wall. He stomped on it, yelling wildly.
"Take that, grid! You suck! I rule! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!"
"Er, begging your pardon, most honorable and intelligent sir, but that's a trash can." Cutter interjected.
Weede looked down to see his foot firmly lodged in a waste receptable.
"Uh, I knew that, dude. Now we're really gonna find the grid! There it is! YAAAAHHHH!!! Take this and this and this, evil grid! Wham! Wham! Wham!"
"Er, my deepest and most graceful apologies, sir, but that is a potted plant."
"Uh...dude! Destroying security grids is hard!"
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Buckshot rolled over with a sigh, and Eternity laid next to him panting slightly. She rolled over and laid her head on his chest, smiling.
"That was wonderful." she told him softly.
"Hell yeah it was. Wow. I mean, it was, and all, just like, um, yeah. Wow."
She giggled and sat up on the table, her feminine legs swinging over the side. She hopped off and Buckshot climbed off the table as well.
Eternity's communications console was beeping. She walked over to it and leaned over, seeing an incoming message. Buckshot wrapped his arms around her from behind and she smiled and kissed him softly, then reached down and switched on the speaker.
"This is Eternity." she said.
//"Um, right. This is Rita. We've got a little problem here..."//
“…Part of it is that I haven’t been able to contact you for the last hour or so.” Rita just managed to keep the growl out of her voice. Being in charge was way to stressful.
//Ah, well there’s a reason for that…//
“I can guess.” Rita scowled at no one in particular as she trotted along with the rest of the group, “But that’s minor, this is a position update. We’re almost at the satellite warehouse and three bots are in stasis already.”
//You’re got three out of commission and you’re not even THERE yet?//
“Don’t ask me how, I wasn’t there. All I know is that it was big, black, smelly, and turned into Relic.”
//Who?//
“You’ll meet him if he’s not already dead. That’s it I think, we’re there, or here, whatever. See ya.”
"Warehouse?" asked Penji, pointing.
"Yes, that's it," Rita replied.
"Warehouse go boom!"
"Not yet. This is a stealth mission, remember?"
"Aww.."
Pressed against the cold metal, the young bot peered around the corner. With one hand on her hilt and the other holding her braid out of harms way, she tiptoed around the corner, keeping close to the wall.
She peered into the closest room, finding it empty. Quickly, she leapt into the room scouring it for food and other valuables. The room was small - it had a large table with a few chairs scattered around. The table was covered in papers, garbage and other useless litter. There was a tall cabinet in the far corner, with a small grey padlock on it. Otherwise the room was empty. Phyphen rushed over to the cabinet, trying to be quiet, and gave a sharp tug on the padlock.
‘Damnit!’ she thought, muttering softly to herself.
Phyphen tried once again to yank off the padlock. When it wouldn’t budge, she balled up her fist and slammed down on the handle of the cabinet. The handle came off effortlessly. Phyphen opened up the cabinet and found a great deal of paperwork and files. She brushed them aside without a care and rummaged through the shelves looking for any coins and something to eat. All she found was a small sack with a few coins in it. She grabbed the sack and tied it snugly to the belt of her sword. She turned around and walked out the door just as three Predacon soldiers walked around the corner.
Phyphen swore and bolted down the hallway, trying to escape the soldiers as they dashed after her. A bullet whizzed by her head and she rounded the corner. Standing in front of her were two ‘bots. Pausing for only a minute to realise they weren’t Predacons. Phyphen ran towards them, shoving a startled female bot and sending her crashing down to the floor. Before anyone knew what had just happened, the three soldiers had come into view.
Luckily Phyphen was already out of sight, tearing around the corner in search of a place to hide.
He lies on the soft green grass, feeling it tickle the back of his hands. His eyes stare skywards, at the deep azure tinged with grey. His ears are filled with the rushing of the wind, and the thumping of his heart.
What is happening? his mind asks.
Something good, his heart replies.
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Flames writhe around him, as he finds himself standing stock-still in the middle of a ring of fire. A gruesome battle rages about him, playing in black-and-white like an old film. He watches himself, the shadow of a memory, launch into the air, preparing a strike from above. Tendrils lash out in a flurry of blows, shattering the sabre in his hands, sending him crashing to the ground. A cloud of dust encircles him.
You get up, with renewed vigour, everytime you fall, says his heart.
Fool! He pushes his body too hard, too far past his limit.
He watches himself get up, watches himself cradle Timber in his arms, watches himself thrust the flaming stick deep into the creature's chest. He stares, like a detached bystander, the abomination's cries muted in the playback. He feels no emotion, instead continues to view the scenes unfolding.
He suddenly finds his fingers wrapped tightly around the rough wood, the torch blazing before him. His surroundings have shimmered away into nothingness, himself standing under a large spotlight. An indistinct figure thrashes about in the darkness. His hand stabs forward involuntarily in the creature's heart, his ears hurting from the shriek it unleashes. His eyes widen in surprise, as the darkness melts away like hot wax, revealing an uncanny mirror image. In his double's eyes shines a madness, a glint that betrays a lust for blood. The Berserker snarls and roars but does not move, as though chained to the spot.
His hands drop to his sides, free again, as the torch clatters to the ground. He backs away, shaking his head in fear. His body trembles, his teeth chatters. He is afraid.
Denounce him. Defeat him! his heart urges.
He cannot. He dares not. It is a part of him, a part that he cannot deny. He is doomed. Doomed!
Denounce him! Defeat him! it is repeated.
The Berserker lunges at him, the former's restraints miraculously gone. Heavy fists smash him in the face. The pain is real. He cries out loud as the madman sinks his teeth into his neck, drawing blood. Balled fists thump him in the back, and he falls flat onto the ground. He tastes the dirt, feeling a surge of anger rise in his chest. It is unlike anything he has ever felt - not the fiery fury fueled by a wild bloodlust, by a cool calm backed by a seething will.
He ducks a punch, then throws his own at the Berserker's solar plexus, followed by an elbow into the ribs. While the madman thrashes wildly, he stands composed, predicting his opponent's moves even before they are executed. The battle is over quickly, as the Berserker struggles weakly against his choke-hold.
Kill him! End this! rails his mind.
He finds himself holding his sabre in his hands, fingers gripped tightly around the hilt, staring into the dull grey metal. He raises the blade, poised to strike into the throat. His face is a mask of anger; the same mad glint has entered his eyes. With gritted teeth, he thrusts...
The sword stops inches away, his fingers trembling. His eyes are wide with surprise, jaw agape. He is afraid, frightened by his own ruthlessness. His sword-arm drops, and the sabre clatters to the ground harmlessly. The squirming Berserker dissolves into mist, then coalasces into a grey metal orb.
Defeated! cheers his mind.
No. Just subdued.
-----------------------------------------------------------
He finds himself back on the grassy plain, staring over a ledge into a deep chasm. There are mountains abound, their tips capped with snow. A heavy mist hangs around the air.
No! He cannot!
You must. Muster your courage and do it.
He looks at the sabre in his hands, feeling its edge. He watches as dark red blood drips from his tip, staining the emerald grass. Throw it? Down into the pit?
No! He will be destroyed if he does so! the voice wails.
You will be reborn if you do.
He looks at the sword a last time, then flings it into the air. It spirals downwards, snapping into two pieces, then exploding in a spectacular display of silver sparks. He falls backwards, into the mattress of soft grass. His eyes weigh like lead, and soon he disappears into the darkness...
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Breathing.
Heavy breathing.
In. Out. In. Out. In...
"Timber!"
*Boink* Ouch!
Querion fell back onto the metal seat, rubbing the sore spot on his head after his collision with the low metal ceiling. He looked around, at the familiar yellow lights, and the dusty glass window.
"CR Chamber," muttered Querion, with a weak smile.
The chamber's door opened with a whir and a click, and gripping the sides of the entry port, the wolf-bot clambered out. He dusted himself, stretching to rid himself of the aches and cramps. Looking around, his eyes met unfamiliar surroundings. It looked like... the interior of a ship?
"You're awake," said Retro, not looking up from the device he was tinkering with.
Mimi raised an eyebrow at the stranger that ran by her. She also noticed that she was a maxiaml and needed help. Mimi turned to the guards and gave them a sexy smile. THe three stopped breifly and ran up to her. "Hey your a maximal, what are you doing here?" Mimi smiled again and touched the chest of the lead guard.
"Well boys you see, i came here looking for you." One of them smiled but still look puzzeled. "Yeah i wanted to find the most gulable dumbasses in the pred army." THe three guards were shocked back as Mimi grabbed her firestrom cannon and emtiped the hallway. The cat turned around forgeting about the two and running back towards the stranger and easily found her. "HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING, you almost got me wasted."
Weede stumbled down the corridors with Cutter next to him, randomly trashing inanimate objects only to be informed that they weren't the grid. After erroneously destroying a filing cabinet, Weede stopped and turned to Cutter.
"Okay, dude, tell me now...where's the grid?"
"I had assumed that in your intelligence and quick wit, you would swiftly and surely find the grid and destroy it with unerring accuracy, but I am honored that you would step down so low as to ask one so wretched as me for directions, most honored sir."
"Uh...what?"
"The security grid is a computer network contained within the security offices down the next corridor and to the right, sir." Cutter said.
"Cool! Let's move, maaannn!!!"
Weede pulled Cutter's arm and ran haphazardly down the corridor, skidding around the corner and running smack into a door. Weede rubbed his nose, got up, and opened the door to see a room filled with computers, specifically a large armored mainframe behind a wall of plexiglass.
"TAKE THIS YOU EVIL DUDE GRID!!!" Weede shrieked, charging at the plexiglass.
A moment later, Cutter looked down at the sloth as he lay on the floor gripping his head.
"Owwww..."
"My humblest and sorriest apologies, wisest sir, but that is a six-inch thick plexiglass barrier. If I may be so bold, and I pre-emptively beg forgiveness if the suggestion does not please, but you can lift the barrier by activating the maintenance access controls."
"Uh..."
"The big switch over there, sir."
"Ha ha, dude! I knew that! Switch activated!"
Weede pulled down the switch and the plexiglass barrier slowly lifted up to reveal the unprotected grid. Weede fumbled in his belt pockets, coming out with a small charge of C4 plastique. He opened a compartment on the mainframe and wedged it in with a giggle, then tripped out of the area and pulled out the detonator.
"Time to kill this evil grid once and for all, dudes!" he said happily, thumbing the button.
"Uh, sir, I believe you are too close to the explosive's blast radius-" Cutter started.
beep
BOOM!!!!!!
SOlarflare and switchblade had made it to the ground floor when they heard the explosion from up above. "I guess he did somthing right for once." SOlarflare said, "SImply amazing." The two contiued down the hallway and slipped outside the building. //Come in Wraith, green light, target on 5 floor, east side.// Solarflare put his comm down rubbed his chest. It had been dented severly by grabbles blast. He thought about telling switchblade now, it would be perfect, they just got done a feriec battle where they had helped each other out. It had pretty much became clear after the turtles rampage. THe finch decided to spil it. He hurt so bad he didn't even care. "Hey switchblade...."
GRabble struggled to his feat with mech fluid pooring from what seemed every part of his body. The turtle's face was have gone and he was hanging by a thread, a bloddy, evil, pissed off thread. The turtle roared in pain, anger and revenge. A door to the CR bath room was smashed to bits as grabble sat in almost unconsious.
"What's a ship doing all the way out here?" Mandrake stumped across the small meadow to the even smaller ship and paused outside of its closed airlock. Hmmm, comm class one-man job. Not bad. Better investigate. Turning parallel to the ship, Mandrake swung his tail back and then slammed its hammer head against the hull. The whole ship rocked from side to side on its support struts, ringing like a bell. "Knock knock."
" Okay...so umm....anything else going on?" Eternity asked waiting for a response. She looked up at Buckshot and smiled. " Do you need back up or someone to go fetch the thing that attacked you?"
Wraith got his signal. "Come in Wraith. Green light, target on 5th floort, east side" That was all he needed. "Roger that. Wraith out." Still in "ghost mode" Wraith made his way full tilt towards the east side of the complex.
Peering through a ventilation shaft, he saw the target with two bodyguards. They looked tough. He could probably take them, but not before the old man either left or called more guards. Better just waste him and book. He poked his head through the wall. "Hey, bucketbutt!" He shouted to one of them. "Over here ya moron!" The fuzor stayed put but the cat came after him. Good enough. He withdrew into the wall again and went up above the commander. Dropping through the ceiling, he snapped a kick into the fuzor's head, sending him sprawling across the floor. Rapier turned back. "What the hell? He was right here..." By the time Rapier reached her commanding officer, Wraith had drawn a sai, plunged it into the commander's spark chamber, torn it out the side, and taken off down the hall.
Wraith's ghost mode was too heated to reactivate, so he had to rough it the rest of the way back. He ran as fast as he could down the corridor until he found a window and dove through it. Clinging to the outside wall with his claws, he began his descent. Hopefully, nobody would think to look on the outside wall. I mean, who would jump out a window right?
Eternity turned to the entrance of the shuttle. She stood up walking to the door. Suddenly the hatch blew open knocking whomever in the chin by accident. " Hello? "
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