Oblivion, Starscream had come to realize, was a notorious tease.
Not that he had actively sought the state...indeed, his entire life and
subsequent afterlife had been spent trying to avoid oblivion at all costs.
However, of late, he had been forced to accept the fact he wasn't as good
at that task as he once thought. His betrayal of the Decepticon commander,
Megatron, who had been mortally wounded in battle with his longtime nemesis
and opposite number in the Autobot camp, Optimus Prime, had been what Starscream
had believed to be a stroke of genius. At the time at least; when Megatron
returned during his coronation, revived and rebuilt into the vastly more
powerful Galvatron, Starscream had very nearly embraced the concept of non-being
while on the receiving end of Galvatron's vengeance. Oddly enough, however,
he lingered on; so much time spent in self-preservational activities had
apparently enabled him to resist deactivation itself.
Or maybe it was what the fleshlings had termed "dumb luck."
That was Starscream's guess.
His quest for resurrection had led from an ill-fated partnership with the
Decepticon exile, Octane, to a barter with another not-quite deactivated
sentient: the world-eater, Unicron. The fallen dark (Starscream hesitated
to use the word, no matter how appropriate) god had given him three tasks...his
ability to possess his fellow Cybertronians had enabled him to complete the
first two within reason, but the final task, attaching Unicron's head to
Cybertron itself, had hit a snag when he'd run out of bodies to possess.
In another stroke of then-assumed genius, he convinced Unicron to restore
him to life so he could finish the work himself; only to abandon the weakened
head after he was restored. A subsequent explosion, however, hurled him far
out into space...where he once again encountered an enraged Galvatron who
promptly blew a hole in Starscream's newly restored chest large enough to
fit both fists through. He knew this was fact, even; he'd done it several
times himself for amusement as he drifted through space.
How long had he been out here..? He lost track long ago, having realized
that, now that he sought oblivion, it would not come; Unicron builds his
minions to last, apparently. For all he knew, he WAS as the humans call "dead,"
and this was what awaited him upon returning to the Matrix...an eternity
of pain and insanity, forever isolated from anyone he could manipulate. The
followers of Primus, many of them Autobots but also a handful of Decepticons
Starscream knew of, had a word for this: they called it the Null...complete
obsolescence of the core program, left to compute its own imperfections until
The Day When All Are One, where it would be judged and either upgraded and
reappointed to its next task or data-wiped and scrapped. He doubted this
was the case, though...he'd encountered the occasional curious stardweller
or passing ship, and he still refused to believe that such imperfect organic
trash would be allowed within the Matrix, even into the corner of it set
aside for his own personal Null.
Still, when the thought occurred to him, he still had to smile: he, who had
bartered with the closest thing his kind had to the Devil, Unicron itself,
to save his alloy hide, was now praying to a "deity" he didn't even believe
in for death, pleading for Primus to claim His lost descendant and end his
suffering. The smile would then turn to giggles, then onward to laughter,
then insane shrieks...until once again Starscream screamed at the stars around
him.
They, as usual, ignored him.
****************
Timeless time passed, as it always had seemed to, when Starscream noticed
something...odd.
He was being pulled.
Slowly, so slow he barely noticed at first, but with rising velocity, Starscream
was moving through space. He could feel the growing tug on his metal skin,
his sensors, even in their weakened state, could detect the gravity upon
him. When the tug increased past planetary norms, however, he cast out with
what few long-range sensors he had left.
...and saw nothing. No stars, no planets, not even asteroids. Just a big
blot of emptiness in the middle of space.
And it was sucking him in like he was the universe's largest energon treat.
Here was oblivion itself, reaching out, as he had so fervently wished, to
claim him at last...and in an instant, his old self-preservation instincts
kicked in full force. He rerouted internal power to his thrusters and pulled
against the eager bonds of gravity; he even transformed to his sleeker jet
mode, hoping that its smaller profile would give the ravenous nothingness
less to hold onto.
It was all for naught, however...he continued, now tail-first, into the blackness
that was beyond black, into a hungry maw that humbled the insatiable appetite
of even Unicron itself. He screamed as he felt his fuselage crumple and stretch,
felt the molecules, the very atoms of his body be plucked one by one in rapid
succession and vanish. This was the Null itself, and nothing Starscream could
do would prevent it from sating itself upon his very being.
In typical fashion, Starscream's last thought before leaving the universe
was, "I don't want to diieeeee..!"
The irony was lost on him...then he was no more.
****************
Speedway's tires squealed on the metal floors of the hallway, the rubberized
elasteel alloy scrambling for purchase as he burned around the corner at
full speed. A few fueltank-churning seconds passed before the treads regained
their grip and he lurched forward, swerving madly to correct himself from
slamming into the walls and a couple of passing Autobots.
"...‘scuse me, pardon me, oh MAN, I'm dead, I'm glitchin' DEAD, I'm
so late, Hardhat's gonna SLAG me..." His steady monologue mingled with his
revving engine as he barreled down the corridor to the medatorium, just a
few fuelpump-stopping turns ahead. He checked his internal chronometer...only
a few minutes late, but it may as well be a few VORNS as far as the grim-faced
Captain of the Watch would be concerned. Speedway risked shunting his sensors
to long-range to scan for Hardhat, but had to switch back before he could
get a reading to avoid colliding with a passing maintenance droid. Maybe
he won't be there, maybe he'll be busy flaying some other warrior...Speedway's
unspoken hopes quickly crashed as he rounded the last corner and saw the
massive orange-and-slate-grey form of Hardhat standing by the medatorium
portal, his huge arms crossed over his slab-like chest as he glowered balefully
at the younger Autobot.
Speedway swallowed hard (a human gesture he'd picked up) and steeled himself
mentally as he hit his brakes. Fishtailing into a bootlegger's turn, he quickly
transformed to his humanoid body mid-spin and pivoted into a smart salute.
"Autobot warrior Speedway reporting for duty, SIR."
Hardhat stared at him, the standard blue of his optics glowing darkly with
barely restrained anger from under the visor of his namesake. He said nothing
for several moments, just glared down at the smaller ‘bot before him
as Speedway summoned every last bit of training and discipline he had to
keep his knees from buckling under the weight of that stare.
After stewing his subordinate in his own juices for what he felt was long
enough, Hardhat "exhaled," then, in a level voice, snarled, "And what is
the reason THIS time..?"
Speedway's mouth opened and closed uselessly as the gravelly bass-of-doom
voice resonated down his spine. Swallowing again, he found his own voice
and replied, "I was...at the commissary, SIR." He winced inside at how pitiful
his voice sounded in comparison, secretly hoping that he didn't hear it crack
when he said "SIR."
Hardhat's expression didn't change, except possibly to get even darker.
"Doing..?"
"Um, refueling, SIR."
"I see...and this wasn't done BEFORE your shift because..?"
"I, uh, was at the, um, the tracks, SIR."
"Ah...let me guess. Racing with the other hot-rodders...am I close..?"
Speedway nodded dumbly, the realization of exactly HOW slagged he was going
to be sinking in rapidly. Suddenly faced with his certain destruction, he
spoke quickly, his words almost seemed to blur into each other. "Heater and
RushHour didn't think I could beat them in the obstacle course, and they
said that I was a lemon who stalled during startup, so I had to show them
I was still the fastest, and I lost track of time and I'm really sorry, sir,
I mean I didn't..."
"SHUT...UP." Hardhat said, each word sounding like the bolt of a slugthrower
being cocked.
Speedway blanched, his mouth snapping shut with an audible *click!*
Hardhat spoke, slowly at first, but his voice and the speed of his words
beagan to rise in direct proportion to his anger. "So...am I correct in assuming
that you find proving yourself to a pair of VAPOR-LOCKED CHROMEHEADS more
important than your SWORN DUTY to the Autobot CAUSE? Is this a correct
ASSUMPTION?" Speedway shook his head, futilely opening his mouth to try and
explain, but Hardhat was beyond listening, though. "I give you what may well
be THE MOST IMPORTANT ASSIGNMENT IN THIS GUARD AND YOU SHINE IT OFF TO GO
JOYRIDING? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO TELL ME? THAT THE STROKING OF YOUR
EGO IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN GUARDING THE MOST PRECIOUS THING IN THE ENTIRE
AUTOBOT CAUSE..? I OUGHTTA STRIP YOU OF ALL DUTIES AND SEND YOU BACK TO THE
WASTE PROCESSING FACILITIES, YOU SORRY EXCUSE FOR AN AUTOBOT! GLITCH IT,
I OUGHTTA RIP OFF YOUR TIRES AND TOSS ‘EM INTO THE RECYCLER, LET YOU
SCRAPE AROUND ON YER RIMS FOR A WHILE, ‘CAUSE THAT'S WHAT'LL HAPPEN
TO US ALL IF THE GLITCHIN' ‘CONS GET AHOLD OF..."
"Captain Hardhat...that will be enough."
Hardhat's tirade snapped off mid-sentence, and, to his credit, he only flared
angrily at the interruption for a pumpbeat until he sighted the source of
the voice.
Alpha stepped through the medatorium portal, frowning deeply at the massive
Captain of the Guard as she approached them both. Even though she was slightly
smaller in stature than the shaken Speedway, however, Hardhat snapped to
brisk attention. "My apologies, Sage Alpha, I was merely disciplining an
insubordinate Autobot who neglected his duties."
A smirk curled the corner of Alpha's mouth. "Yes, I know...I think the whole
Autobase knows now, for that matter..."
"My apologies again, Sage Alpha. I..."
"And what was the lad's duty, pray tell..?" Alpha interrupted, leaning forward
and taking a good look at Speedway.
"He was assigned to guard you and the Matrix this afternoon and he was
late."
Alpha snorted. "I still say this is a waste of a perfectly good Autobot's
afternoon. The Matrix can protect itself well enough as is...as can I"
Hardhat a;,ost seemed to take offence at that. "With all due respect, Sage
Alpha, it's my duty to make sure that it doesn't have to."
Alpha snorted again irritatedly, turning back to Speedway."And I believe
that you got your point through to him, Captain. Now, if you will excuse
us..."
Realizing he was being dismissed, Hardhat snapped off a smart salute, then
turned to Speedway and fixed him with a baleful stare. "We'll continue this
discussion later."
Speedway swallowed and saluted. "Yessir."
Hardhat fixed him with another glare, then turned and strode off down the
hallway. Speedway relaxed somewhat, exhaling a "breath" he didn't know he
was holding.
Alpha watched him, then chuckled. "He's a bitter bit of fuel to process,
but he truly only has your best interests at heart, you know..."
The sound of Alpha's voice brought him back to attention. "I'm sorry, I meant
no disrespect to my command-"
Alpha placed a hand on his, smiling wryly. "Enough, lad...I may be an Autobot
of some rank, but I have no need for all that military nonsense the Captain
of the Guard seems so fond of. Are we both clear on this?"
Speedway nodded, relaxing slightly. "Crystal-clear, ma'am. I'm sorry for
my lateness..."
"Not a word. THAT was already dealt with before I showed up...in fact, it
made you even later, which is why I came to investigate." She smirked again.
"Hardhat doesn't seem to realize little things like that, I noticed..."
Speedway had to fight back a laugh, which made Alpha grin even
broader."So...where was it you wanted to go, Sage Alpha?"
She pondered for a moment, her optics glittering with mirth. "You mentioned
the racetracks to Captain Hardhat...you spend a lot of time there, do you
not?"
Speedway nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It's...my favorite place to hang."
"‘Hang?'" Alpha laughed. "Tell me...many of your friends are human...am
I correct?"
Speedway nodded, almost embarrassed for some reason. "Um...yes, ma'am..."
Alpha's smirk returned. "I can tell...you have many of their expressions
and gestures down pat, almost instinctive even." Her smile broadened a little,
and her optics seemed to lose focus slightly as she added, almost wistfully,
"I remember when we first awakened, about fifteen local revolutions ago.
Humans and Autobots feared one another, and we had to change the appearance
of our alternate forms to avoid detection. It still amazes me to think how
close we came to destroying one another before we finally united against
the common Decepticon threat...and now, sometimes, it almost seems as if
each race was meant to find the other." She grinned at Speedway. "The Matrix
works in mysterious ways, eh?"
Speedway nodded politely, not entirely following her meaning. "As far as
I knew, humans and the Autobot cause were naturals for one another, but,
I admit, I was only reactivated a few years ago."
"You would've enjoyed it, lad...they were wild, exciting times, full of danger."
Alpha grinned again, and, for a moment, he saw a glimpse of the warrior she
had been before being given the Matrix to keep. Then, she looked away, seeming
for a moment, almost sad. "I only wish Omega had been able to see this age
he helped bring about. He'd have been so...happy..." She mused a moment longer,
then nodded decisively. "Yes...that's where I'd like to go. The racetracks."She
grinned at Speedway again, snapping out of her melancholy. "I want to see
where you newer models go to, ahem, ‘hang.'"
Speedway blanched slightly. "Ummm...are you sure that's such a good idea,
Sage Alpha..?"
Alpha raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Afraid this old ‘bot is going
to cramp your style, lad? You forget...before I was designated Keeper of
the Matrix and Sage to the Autobot cause, I was one of the fastest of my
generation, too," With that, her form shifted and folded, transforming her
into the semblance of a vintage ‘80's model Alpha Romeo sports car.
Her engine rumbling like a caged jungle cat, she revved loudy and laughed,
"C'mon, slowpoke...race you to the tracks!" With a shriek of rubber on metal,
she peeled away down the corridor, leaving a stunned Speedway in her wake.
Speedway gaped, startled, then grinned broadly. "You're ON, ma'am..." and
transformed into his own sleek race car mode before, with a squealing of
tires, sped off after her, almost careening into another startled maintenance
droid as he did.
****************
"Anomaly has been sighted again...point two-two-nine degrees starboard of
previous occurrence."
High Five tightbeam-transmitted the data probe report, then banked off to
the right, his directional verniers glowing pale blue in the inky stellar
blackness around him. Sighting a nearby asteroid chunk large enough to support
him, he transformed to his humanoid form and landed, crouching and toggling
his sensor-baffles almost instinctively. Stealth and secrecy were his watchwords,
and, even in light of his new allegiances, his old programming sometimes
was hard to ignore.
He looked down again at the Autobot emblem upon his chest, still polished
to a high sheen; he'd worn it with pride ever since undergoing the Rite of
the Autobrand, but he sometimes still was startled to see it and not the
indigo of the Decepticon sigil he'd worn for so long. It was something he'd
contemplated many times in meditation, this instinctive identification with
his former comrades...but he'd made his choice, after much thought and sacrifice,
and defected to the Autobot cause. His reasons were his own, and he shared
them with none, but sometimes...
The warning flash of his sensor array snapped him back to the present. Mentally
cursing his introspective nature, he hunkered lower, silently drawing his
tekbow and nocking a gyroshaft at the ready.
Moments later, the very blackness before him seemed to bend in his sensorpath,
twisting in a quickening spiral before being rent asunder, disgorging its
contents and resealing.
High Five's optics narrowed as he marked three arrivals, their own indigo
emblems identifying them as Decepticons even as they transformed from their
fighter-jet modes and got into standard defensive stances. One opened his
chest canopy, and a smaller shape leaped out. It paused, its eight metallic
legs almost pawing at the vacuum before it began to expand, its size doubling,
then doubling again thrice more at it transformed from spider into its humanoid
mode.
Tentacus. High Five's fuel chilled at the sight of the cowled Decepticon
that now "stood" hovering in space before the others, his arms crossed over
his chest before, in a cultured and well-modulated voice, he ordered, "Secure
the perimeter and set up the relay scanner."
High Five drew his gyroshaft back and paused, tense, mentally invoking Primus
that his sensor-baffles would protect him as the three warriors did a quick
reconnoiter of the immediate area. He relaxed slightly when they returned
to Tentacus without sighting him, but he kept his weapon trained upon them
nevertheless.
The Decepticon lieutenant watched almost disinterestedly as the three warriors
quickly assembled the relay scanner, his glowing red optics often looking
off in various directions, constantly checking for anything out of the ordinary;
he was the head of intelligence, second in command to the Decepticons, and
he'd be Nulled before he'd let anyone get within range of his sensors undetected.
High Five smiled to himself, for he'd learned all he knew from Tentacus,
been the cowled ‘con's own protege before his defection. He couldn't
help but wonder if his former commander would be proud of his skills now...
Once the scanner was assembled and its own sensor-baffles activated, the
warriors "stood" at attention and awaited further commands. Tentacus ignored
them for a moment, his optics seeming to focus on some point off in the distance;
moments later, High Five's own sensor array pinged as the anomaly he'd been
sent to track in the first place manifested again, shifting through the
electromagnetic spectrum before erupting in a brilliant flash of multi-frequency
fireworks. Point four-three-seven degrees furthur to starboard, he noted
mentally.
The Decepticon relay flickered in response, a small pocket tear in spacetime
opening long enough for the data to be transmitted before resealing. High
Five grinned; wasteful, but effective, the relay's broadcasts were undetectable
as anything other than minute ripples in space, and those were easily masked
by the anomaly's own odd signature. The perfect peephole into the Autobot's
backyard and it would've never been detected had he not volunteered for this
survey mission to get off-planet and stretch his wings a bit. Sometimes fortune
favors the foolish, so the old human saying went...
Satisfied, Tentacus nodded to his warriors who immediately transformed back
into their jet modes; giving the site one last baleful sweep of his scanners,
he transformed into his spider-form and, shrinking, flew back into the open
canopy of one of the warriors. Once again, the warphole effect twisted open
and the jets bolted through.
Once they were gone, High Five moved carefully to the relay, his own sensors
keeping him out of the relay's security scanners. It would be so easy, he
thought, to break this thing, but it would be far better to steal it instead...or
at least copy its tech for the ‘bots back in the science division to
come up with a counter-measure for it.
Switching to active scan, he tightbeamed the info on the relay back to Autobase
(along with the last anomaly survey), but, as he turned to leave, he felt
the distortion in his sensors. He spun, all systems on full alert as another
warphole opened around him. He had time to scream before his universe was
twisted inside out...
...and he struck hard metal floor. Twisting in his landing, he snapped into
a battle crouch...and found himself face-to-barrel with a good dozen drawn
Decepticon blasters. He mentally began marking the position of them all when
a massive figure emerged from the shadows. Towering over all the ‘cons
present, his gold-and-blood-red finish glinting in the light of the chamber,
as did the indigo of his sigil. A low bass rumble echoed through the room,
and it took a moment for High Five to recognize it as laughter.
Astroider, supreme commander of the Decepticon forces, smiled down at
him."So...the Judas returns to us. How...fortunate..."
Optics narrowing, High Five fought back the sinking feeling in his fueltank.
So, he thought as Astroider's laughter echoed from the other ‘cons
present, THIS is what a mouse in a room full of cats feels like... |
