Starshooter’s Story

 

????: unconsciousness...

      Haziness and a numb grayness cause a comfortable fog of unawareness that hangs over your spark like a warm blanket.  You felt it lift you up ad float your mind as if drifting up through a murky morass of thick liquid.
     Then a sparkle shines through the haze…
     The first spark of consciousness, coming glaring through the fog of time.
     You reach toward the bright clarity, grasping for that which was lost.  Holding it, entwining it around you as if suffuses you with light, warmth, clarity, consciousness…
     Pain…

     You bolt upright, a wrenching squeal of metal grinding against rusted metal ringing throughout your body.
     As if to accentuate the screeching groan, a peal of thunder shook the ground with a thunderous quake.
     A cold drip of water trickled down from nowhere, cascading off of your head.  Slowly, in digits and binary numbers the data from the sensation was filtered and registered in your mind as a cold smear of liquid rolling off of the warm, rough metallic surface of your body.
     Your arm stays stretched out, frozen in place from where your sudden movement wrenched it.  You stare at it through static glazed eyes.  Glitches scrolled across your optic sensors, fragmenting the picture and turning it into flat data.
     --Where…?  How?—
     "C…. com… computer."  You croak, your voice rasping with thick distortion.
     "Ssss…tat..s"
     Your internals reported in a slurred, slow speech, "Functions at two percent operability."
     --Two percent?!?  How the slag am I even powered???—
     As if in answer to your question a heavy crack suffuses your body as a flash seems to etch everything in a white corona of electricity.
     You look down as it passes, the water still showing trace sparks from the lightning strike.
     --Great… I’ve been jump-started…--
     You pull your arm down, feeling flakes of thick rust shred off from around the encrusted joints.
     --Where am I?—
     The room was pitch black, and your optics were only giving off enough light to see at arms length.
     You did know that you were sitting in a pool of water, and that the pool seemed to be growing larger as more rivulets spilled down across your body from above in the darkness.
     --Time to move.—
     You push up with all your limited energy, forcing joints that were frozen solid with age into a standing position.  The noise was tremendous and the pain was terrible, but finally, you were pushed into a semblance of an upright position.
     Slowly, haltingly you turned your head to look at the wall directly behind you.  You find that your arm was propped up in the gaping mouth of a figure that was etched into the wall.  It’s curves and features worn nearly smooth from what must have been centuries of erosion.
     Your hand was missing, as was a large part of your internals, you notice as you looked from the arm down toward your midriff, where a tangled netting of wires hung loosely from a gaping hole in your stomach.
     Again the chamber rumbled with the thunder of lightning.
     --No light shows through, that means no windows outside.—
     You carefully move your joints, crunching away the stiffness of the rusted metal.  You move along the wall slightly, and find a small holding device, from which a rather rotted stick of organic material was set.
     Holding your arm up, you grasp two loose wires and click them together, a small spark generates, giving a brief flash of faint light.  You hold it up to the stick and repeat it several times.
     An oily residue that seems to be soaked into the material catches greedily on fire, and casts a flickering pale shadow of light over the scenery.
     After a cycle or two, your optics slowly readjust and clear out the overwhelming static feedback that the sudden introduction of light has caused.
     The chamber was rock, carved rock blocks making a small and musty chamber.  The torch sizzled in the damp air, and dark things seemed to slither away from it’s dancing light.
     You look at the gargoylish protrusion that had helped you to stand, and see that it was a carving of a monstrous bat that spanned one side of the short room.
     --Cute, well, looks like you and me been roomin’ buddies for a while bats…--
     The water around your ankles was starting to get deep.  Now it was rising to mid-calf.
     --No wonder I’m rusted, a few weeks of this treatment’ll kill a girl!—
     You see that there is some kind of flume that leaded up, but it appeared to be blocked.
     --But not blocked well, or else this water wouldn’t be pouring through like a sieve!—
     You ran a quick internal diagnostic…
     "Sensors, offline
    Weapons, offline
    Speech 32%
    Optics 46%
    Movement 50%
    Transformation offline
    Autorepair 5%
    Energy levels 3%
     --Great, 3%, I only have to get struck by lightning ninety-seven more times to be at full power!—
     The water was to your knees.
     You feel around near where your body had been, and are rewarded with a small bandoleer that you sometimes use on extended missions.  Hefting it, you find that most of what was there is trashed, but still, there was one small explosive that may still be active.  It was a simple one, and not very high in damage potential.
     You stand under the hole in the ceiling, looking up at it with the explosive in your hand.
     It will be a feet of timing, the explosive would have to detonate as close to the blockage as possible.  You look down at the explosive.
     --There’s an awful lot of guesswork here.  No computers, no trustworthy devices, I can’t even be sure I’ll get this thing thrown!!—
     You twist your arm again with a screeching squeal.
     --Here goes—
     You activate the small device and arc your arm back…
     Waiting…
     Waiting…
     NOW!!!

     The small device seems to spiral upward in slow motion, you hear it hit the top with a sickening thud as you realize you may have thrown it too hard.  You wait for it to drop back down and render you unconcious, but instead, a ball of flame seems to swell up in the flume.  There is a snap and a crack as the rumble subsides…
     And then a tidal wave of water rushes inward.

     You awake, face down in the mud.
     Rain drops register across your back, and the soft rumble of thunder can be heard in the distance.
     Rivers of water run around you, splashing and babbling in the softly pattering rain.
     You push yourself up limply.
     You can remember vaguely struggling with all your might through the onslaught of the water.  Pushing your way up to freedom.
     Now you slumped over to your side to a sitting position, the humid air blowing across your face.
     From somewhere nearby, you can hear a chattering, a babbling…
     --Voices?—
     You look up and a silent flash of lightning etches the forms of several small, humanoid figures moving toward you.
     Then darkness swallows you again.
   

 ??: A dream...

            The warmth of swirling waters suspends you in a vortex of darkness.  Through the wall of rippling liquid, images flash in the depths. 

            You see yourself kneeling before the throne of Straxus, your creator.

            Another flash in the darkness reveals a familiar face, a comrade that has been missing for millennia.

            The rumble of thunder ripples through the water, and the flapping of bats seems to trail in its booming wake.

            You see Krontaxx, a general who Straxus felt was a threat to his cause.  His circuits ripped open, and oils leaking as he fell from the blast you had delivered.

            The swirling seems to change into a rush of water, and you see the lights of Polyhex below you as you soar above them in flight.

            Another thunderous crash and a bat’s face looms from the water around you.  Gargantuan and leering with sharp fangs.

            --I am unconscious—

            **Rumble**

            Bats soar around you, replacing the warm water with a cold whirlwind of chaos.

            **Rumble**

            You hear the rumble of thunder as darkness recedes from your optics.

            “Are you sure?” the voice seems at first to come from a great distance, “We don’t know what kind of creation this tin man of yours is!”

            “Don’t be silly,” a deeper voice, heavily accented, “It’s obviously a mechanical construct.  One of those ro-bot’s no doubt that the scientists in Farion are experimenting with.  Obviously, the rumors that these ancient people were more advanced than we previously thought are true.  It was obviously some kind of mechanical servant for the people of this race…”

            At least your systems seemed to be back up to par.  You’re databanks were translating at regular speeds.  A quick scan showed that you were at seventy-five percent operability, and that there was a constant feed of low level energy into your system.

            “Imagine if we return with our own personal servant from the ruins of the ancients.  Why it will be the greatest discovery of all times!!”

            “But why did they make it so… plain?”

            You sit up, eyes shining in the subdued darkness of your surroundings.  The two creatures that had been having the conversation stopped, and turned slowly.

            They were odd looking, bat-like humanoids with large ears and short legs.  Their arms folded back with wing-like appendages that were covered loosely with protective garments.  They wore khaki colored clothing.  One of them had a pair of square rimmed spectacles balanced on his snout-like nose.

            He gave an audible swallow before regaining his composure, “Ro-bot, I-am-your-new-owner.  Do-you-understand?”

            You noted that the language he was using was considerably different from the previous one they had conversed in.  He spoke it in a stilted, formal tone, and a little too commanding for your tastes.

            “Stuff it.”  You swung aching legs over the side of the table that you were lying on.  Rust flaked away in messy piles, and you could see a few areas where chalk lines had been drawn, and rust had been chipped away revealing wires underneath.

            The two creatures look at each other and then back at you.

            The one with spectacles, the deeper voiced one spoke first, “Stuff what?”

            “Look, just tell me where I am, and when the next ship out of here takes off.”

            The creature looked at you nonplussed, “You are in the middle of the Baragon jungles, and there are no ships as there are no large bodies of water near here.”

            “Water?  I’m talking space and you’re talking luxury cruises!”

            “Space?”

            --Great, please don’t tell me they haven’t achieved space travel yet!!—

            “Look,” you decide to try a new tactic, “Who are you, and where am I… and how long have I been out.”

            “You have your own personality…”

            “Yes I have my own personality!” you snap, growing rapidly annoyed with the inference of being an automaton.

            You center yourself and start again, “Now, where am I, who are you, and how long have I been here.”

            “As I said, you are in the middle of the deepest of the Baragon jungles, in the Tothen province of Jamazia.” All of this meant squat to you, “My name is Dr. Anton Baradius and this is Dr. Leviantis Jacksan.  And how long you’ve been here is quite guess work on our behalf, but the metal rust dates back at least one million years if not more!”

            You’re mouth drops open in shock, “One… million…”

            “Or more.” Adds the other, “Our dating references aren’t nearly as sharp as we would like.  More split into old, older, and really old.”

            “You’re… scientists?”

            “Archaeologists.” Answered Anton, “We were searching for some ruins that were rumored to be here, buried by the now dormant volcano above us millions of years ago.”

            --Volcano—

            Images and feelings of searing heat seem to swell up inside of you, but why were you hear… why had you come to this world?

            You look down to your missing hand and rusted armor, “Know where I can get some body parts?”

            The two just shrugged.  You looked around at your surroundings for the first time, the smell of wet canvas finally starting to bug you.  It was a large, pavilion tent with a great deal of crude electrical equipment mounted on stilts away from the moist ground.  Outside, the pattering of rain was accented by the distant sound of thunder. 

            Through a space in the flap of the tent’s entryway, you could see that it was quite dark outside.  The tent itself was lit by one dim light that ran off of some kind of flammable fuel.  You look back and appraise the gadgetry around you.

            A crude, fossil fuel driven generator supplied the power. It’s metal was brittle and heavy.  Mostly everything was made out of the same.  There were some seismological equipment, some radio equipment, but not much else.

            “You said ruins… What were the ruins of?”

            “A missing city, we thought that you might be able to tell us more.”

            --Not me, batboy.  I’m not from this neighborhood…--

            “All I can tell you is that I woke up in a puddle beneath some bat-god alter…”

            “Bat god?!?”  Leviantus looked excited as he and Anton exchanged wide eyed glares, “Where did you see this?”

            “Near where you found me, it was underground and filled with water.”

            “Get my diving gear…” ordered Anton.  The younger, Leviantus scrambled to a large chest that sat in the shadows.

            “What’s so important about the bat-god?”

            “We believe you refer to Quoztolonitemc, the ‘ancient creator’ of these peoples mythologies.  If there is a statue, it would be an extraordinary find!!”

            “Yeah, great…  It’s dark outside, shouldn’t you wait at least until daybreak?”

            He stopped and looked at you oddly, “Why would we want to do such a thing?  We’ll be sleeping by that time.”

            --Nocturnal, figures.—

            You shrug noncommittally as he starts to strap on a huge air tank.  He takes off the shirt that is covering him, and stretches his arms, which reveal wings that were curved back and covered that extended from his forearm and wrist area.

            He stops and looks at you oddly, “Oh, I guess in my haste I forgot to decide what to do with you…”

            “What to do with me?  Let me make it easy..” you get to your feet, looming easily twice over his size, and having to stoop slightly in the giant tent, “You go look at your bat god, and I’ll do whatever I slagging well want to.  How’s that?”

            His brown exterior seems to blanche a bit, “Ok, sounds good to me…”

            You watch as the two turn and shuffle out of the tent.

            --Great, what are my choices, I’m too damaged to fly, I need armor, and this planet is technological exhaust smoked.  If I can get a signal out… there’s still got to be a Cybertron, someone will answer it!!—

            You step to the entryway of the tent to see the two loading into a small vehicle.  A gout of noxious fumes pours out as it shakes to life with a rattling that assured you of its instability. 

            --What to do indeed…--

           

 ?? in the Jungle

 

            As the small vehicle rattle off in the dark rain, you ponder your situation.

"I can't even leave this place the way I got here, " you lament to yourself. 

Then a thought occurs to you.

--Just how DID I get to this planet?—

You wrack your memory, trying desperately to remember anything that might give you a clue.

"A ship," You suddenly realize. "I flew here in a ship."

From what you remember, it was not a large one, perhaps only being big enough for yourself.  But what did you do with it?

It could still be in orbit, or perhaps lying in wait somewhere here on the surface?

Realistically you realize that if it is on the planet, it's condition will probably be no better then your own. However, the communications may be salvageable....

You walk with determined stride in the direction the organic bat creatures took in their vehicle.

--If anyone may have discovered or heard tell of an alien ship found in a cave or beneath the soil, I'd bet those two had.—

Fortunately, the archeologists had not gone far, and are unloading diving equipment from their transport as you approach.

They stop their actions and look at me as I stumble toward them. 

"I have a question," you say, reaching them. "Have you or any of your kind discovered any sort of strange craft in your diggings?"

The two scientists exchange glances.

"What sort of craft?" Anton asks.

            You think for a second, “It was elongated, kind of spear shaped.  With short back sweeping wings?  Far different from anything you guys are likely to have every seen before.”

            The scientist shakes his head, “No, I am sorry.  There has been nothing located in this region, or in any region, that might fit that description.”

            You lean against a giant tree, thinking as the litle spittle of rain patters down on you.  The scientists continue unloading equipment.  Anton had donned the diving gear and was now carefully lowering himself into a flat hole that looked almost like a simple puddle on the ground.  A rope was tied to his waist and led to a heavy coil on the jeep iself.

            You walked over, “I’m going down with you.”

            His eyes widened, and he tried to answer, but nearly gagged on the water lung mouthpiece that was in place.  He spit it out, “What?  I mean…”

            “Look, there may be some clue to my ship or to how I got here down there.  I’m perfectly fine in the water, there will only be a minor power drain while I’m in the water.  Don’t try to touch me while I’m down there or you might get a small shock.”

            The Professor gave a stunned nod and put the mouthpiece back in.

            He jumps down with a minimal splash.  You wait a second for him to get clear and then jump in after him.

 

            As you suspected, the energy drain was minute, but it would spark the good Doctor if he came to close,  as you followed slowly down the tunnel, you could see his light with it’s minute generator lighting his way.

            --He may not need much light, but I do!!—

            You shut some runner lights that still worked on your wings, they didn’t shed much light, but enough for you to see with at least. 

            The water was murky, still stirred up with the muck of the underwater tomb.  Chunks of dirt and life floated slowly passed you as you moved down in the oppressive tunnel.  Then you passed where the vent that you had blown was.  A thick hatch lay shattered from your grenade, opened after millennia of being sealed.

            The chamber below was smaller than you had first thought.   The tunnel you had gone through had been deep, so deep that you were surprised that the bat creature had shown no hesitation from the pressure that was building, and if it had been filled with water, it was no surprise that you were flushed out the way you were.

            Now the room was covered in a haze of peace and silence.  A series of clicks from Anton draws your attention.  You noce that his throat is moving as the clicking noise goes out.  He was using the sound to map the room! 

But you had no advantages at the moment.  You shut on a more direct light, despite the squeal that Anton gives at first.

The light hits the face of the bat-god, and Anton’s protests stop.  As any good scientist he ignored his own discomfort to goggle over a million year old piece of rock. 

It was impressive in it’s own right.  The wings were still fairly well formed along the walls of the chamber, stretching out in a scooping sweep around the walls and ceiling of the circular room.

Below it was the small retaining area that you guessed must have once been a pond, with perhaps water flowing out of the bat’s jaws.

--Nice, but useless.—

Anton uses his wing-like arm membranes to swim over to the bat and examine it.

--What was I here for… Why did I come here…--

 

You ran down darkened corridors.  The musty smell of hot rock filled the room, and outside the ground rumbled with a terrible violence.

You stop, steadying yourself.  The sound of laughter echoed through the tunnels.

Anger flares in your processors, fueled by the increasing heat, “You bastard!!  It is not meant to be yours!!”

A deep rolling voice calls out, mockingly, “And I suppose it would be safer in you Master’s hands?  Or perhaps in your own, little Starshooter…?”

You begin running again, your footsteps echoing off the walls.

Glitches scrolled across your optics you had taken more damage outside than you thought.  You look down at where your hand had been melted off.

--No, not for me, not ever for me…--

You keep running.

The tunnel has been sloping slightly, and now dumped into a small room.  Here, a statue dominated the wall, a representation of the god that the natives here had worshipped… the god who had held a dark secret for centuries.

There was a noise behind you, you spin to look, but only see the silhouette of your prey standing in the corridor, fusion cannon raised.  There was a light and a sharp sting as you flew back, landing in the pool below the statue’s enormous head.  Boiling hot water poured over you as you struggled to move.  The glitches increased, and through the haze you could see his shadow over you.

    “It’s too bad Starshooter.  You had held such great promise to me, but I’m afraid all partnerships must end.  Now, you will excuse me as I make my leave, after all the sky is falling.  Armeggedon has reached this little planet, and I’m quite afraid that we have spurred it into existence.  Don’t worry, I will return to your Master, and I will be sure to show him my new acquisition.”

He turns and reaches a up for something near the doorway.  A sharp twist and you see the walls move down, sealing you in.

Stasis lock commencing.

 

???

You jerk back to the present.

Anton is floating nearby, looking at you oddly. 

He jerks a digit upward in a gesture that seems to mean he was ready to return to your surface.  You wonder how long the flashback had lasted. 

He turns in a flurry of bubbles and makes his way back up to the tunnel.  He glances back at you, to make sure you were following, and then swishes up the tunnel entryway.

As you swim upwards, you wonder about the memories. 

--Who was pursuing me, who owned the fusion cannon that slagged my circuitry for millenia?? –

He was someone you knew, and someone of importance.  Perhaps even the reason that no one had seen fit to rescue you.

The object…

You hear a voice float through your head in the silent swirl of the water, “The Seal of Cybertron… It is mine… Retrieve it for me…My daughter…”

A name accompanies the voice…

--Straxus!!—

 

You and Anton reach the surface.  He excitedly takes off his breathing apparatus, and begins to babble to his companion about the statue and the chamber.  You lean up against a rock to ponder your next move.  The sky had lightened, and false dawn was spreading across the heavy clouds in the sky.

The memories are incomplete, but at least being back in your ‘prison’ had triggered, something…

And the something led you to believe that the other Decepticons who followed you here may have destroyed the ship that you had come here on.

--Decepticon…  So that’s what I am… From Cybertron.—

That is good, with time, more memories will return.
            The bat archaeologists had loaded the wet gear onto the vehicle and Anton had walked up to you.  “You ok?”

You shake yourself free of your thoughts, surprise that the strange bat creature could seem worried about you.

“Yeah, great.” You snap.

“Well, dawn is here, and we can’t really get much work done today.  We stayed up most of yesterday working on sketches and mappings of you.  We’ll be back here at dusk… you know how to find the cap if you need to, right?”

“Yeah, I doubt I’m going anywhere, yet.”

“Ok, then… we’ll see you tonight.”  With that the scientists load up into the vehicles and head off down the trail.

You make your way up a nearby hillside, and find a large rock to sit down on.  You lean back to watch the sky lighten, the warm sun slamming down as it peers over the tops of the trees and the mountains.  The jungle rapidly turns into a thick and humid oven, the rains from the night before burning away into sheets of hazy fog that roll off the valley below your perch.  

Wild creatures called out in the morning mists, their voices echoing off of the jungles floor, sending a chaotic song of life that mirrored the turmoil within your own spark.

Again and again the scene replays in your circuits, “I will return to your Master, and I will be sure to show him my new acquisition.”

Again and again you see the dark silhouette as he turns and reaches up for something near the doorway.  A sharp twist and you see the walls move down, sealing you in.

--But what if the ship wasn’t destroyed…--

You sit upright, the thought echoing through your mind as if from another source…

            --reaches up for something near the doorway.  A sharp twist and I see the walls move down, sealing me in.--

You get up, the flash of a wingtip glinting in the hot sun.  Megacycles had passed, and from the looks of it, your repair circuits were doing their best to fix the structural damage.  A small patch of silvery metal shined above the rusty blade over your shoulder.  You look at it for a second…

“Computer, how are the power reserves?”

--Power at fifty-two percent.—

That meant that your autorepairs were draining your energy reserves.  Fixing the damage would take weeks, especially if you had to go back to the camp and use that generator to recharge.

--Unless I had a ship… Unless that ship had energon… unless… unless it had a repair bed!!—

You lurch down the slope, back toward where the hole leading down was.  You reach the edge and look down, steam billowed slowly out, and you could see the water had dropped by several meters at least! 

--Evaporation?—

No, even the warmth from that sun wouldn’t evaporate that much water in a few mega cycles.  What then? 

--The water is leaking out below… there must be more caves that are still intact!!—

You look down, pondering the wisdom of going down there to find…

--To find what?  A ship that’s in the same shape as me?  A new tomb of water and darkness when my energy runs out?—

You shake your head.

--What’s happened to me?—

You stand and look down at the charred lump of your hand.

--Once I was elite, once I feared nothing.—

Anger welled up inside of you.  Anger, and something else…

You clench a hand over the melted stump and squeeze it with a crushing pressure.

--I am a Decepticon, and I will not run from my destiny!—

???

You jump down the shaft, hitting the warm, hazy waters and feel yourself sink lower and lower.

As the waters swish around you, you suddenly grow impatient and begin to move your arms in the limited space in  such a way as to speed your descent.

At last, your reach the cave that had been your prison for so long.

Guided by your memories, you swim to what you remember as the doorway and grope along the sides for some sort of lever or device.

You are rewarded, by finding that to the right is a bar, camouflaged to look like the rock wall surrounding it.

You pull on it with all your might, but it does not budge.

The thick water seems heavy and turns your movements into sluggish struggles.  You try again and again, your fury rising.

--I MUST not fail!—

You put your very spark into one mighty tug.

To your relief, you hear a muffled groan as your efforts are once again rewarded.

Suddenly, the groan is replaced by the roar of the water rushing past you with a furious undertow.

You hang onto the bar  tightly as the flood starts to pull on you, trying to sweep you away with it. 

Your head and torso soon free themselves from the rushing water as the waterline quickly drops around you. 

Finally, the water is mostly gone, except for some spastic swirls that rush about your feet toward a small stream leading out the doorway.

You step into the dark tunnel beyond.  The smell of wet rock mixing with mold makes the darkness all that much more oppressive.

You walk into the darkness, following the sounds of the newly formed stream.  Some unknown memory leads you.  You have a goal.

You turn on your winglights again, shedding a small halo around you in the misty tunnel.

After a while, you halt before a wall and reach your good hand toward it, not quite certain what you were reaching for. 

To your surprise, a panel flips open and a single, blinking button appears underneath it.

--Electricity?!?—

You press the button, hesitantly.  The wall slowly slides back, and you are met with a sight that fills you with relief.

A ship.

--My ship!—

 

                The ship must have seen better days.

                It sat in a small landing bay made of metal alloys and a technology that hasn’t yet been seen by Anton and his bat-men. 

                Weeds had torn up sections, and rust had burnt holes through the bay’s walls and floors.  A dim light suffused the room, and you could hear the scattering of vermin and insects as you entered.

                Whoever the parting silhouette was, he had left a rather large hole in the side of the shuttle.  The blast was near the engine area, probably to crack the housing that contained the drive units.

                You moved forward and looked around.  There were columns of porous rock that lined the room at awkward areas.  The metal around their bases that wasn’t too rusted looked like it had bubbled up, as if boiled…

                --or melted—

                You remember the intense heat that had surrounded you.  What had happened?  Anton had mentioned a volcano burying the city.  Were you truly there millions of years ago when it happened? 

                You streak across a smoke stained sky.  If he had found out that you already left the camp...

                Another scattering of ash clattered across your wings, hot cinders that burned as they touched your metallic skin.

                The temple wasn’t too far, you just hoped you could make it before the volcano decided to give up it’s magma core.

                There was a rumble, then a sound like a sharp explosion.  You are rocked hard by a shockwave and fall transforming, scrambling to right yourself. 

                The ground hits hard, and chunks of dirt and grass are torn up as you skid across the jungle floor.

                --What the slag?!?—

                You stand, and realize the answer.  The sky had turned a deep red, and a slow, crunching, rumbling seemed to cover the land.

                Far up the side of the volcano, you could see a thick red line baking it’s way down, in a deceptively slow crawl from where you stood, and a new plume of smoke and ash had darkened the clouds and reflected the red anger.  You definitely know what had happened.

                --The eruption!!--

 

                You shake yourself.

                --Definitely went through some problems.—

 

                You hoist yourself up to the hole in the side of the small scout ship.  Surveying the damage quickly, you decide that it was probably repairable, given time.  You hop back down and make your way around to the hatch.  Reaching up you tap in several command codes.  The pad sparks, but the doors pop open, hissing slowly on their hydraulics.

                You step up the lower half of the hatch, and into the cramped interior of the shuttle.

                It all seemed familiar, although the insides were rusted and wire now hung loosely down, swaying as you walked past them.  The entry way led either forward to the pilot’s seat, or backwards…

                --To the repair table!—

                You moved to the back.  The short door there was jammed, and it took a few seconds of tugging until it finally pulled open.

                The room beyond was a mess of spare parts and circuitry.  Once, you had the room organized, and the pieces had been placed in the many drawers and cabinets of the room for easy access.  Now, however, things had changed.  You pushed a handful of scrap off of the table and sat down.  Reaching over you pulled a small diagnostic computer, that sat on a swivel arm, over to you.  Bringing up the screen, you began to work.

               

                The ships power was only at thirty-five percent, and the repairs would drain it considerably further. Repairing yourself would take at least five percent of its total power, and probably about seven days by yourself, and with one hand.  Then again, there were the two bat boys up above…  They could lend a hand…

                The ships repairs would probably kill the power cells completely.  And it would take approximately six years for that little generator above to even get the ship back to fifty percent so it could break orbit!  Even if there are greater power supplies in this world, you doubt that there would be much in the way of a quick re-energization for the ship’s batteries. 

                The radio was still there, and almost intact.  It wouldn’t take too much to repair, but who knows if it could reach anyone, or if there was anyone left to reach!

                There was no easy path.  That much was for sure...  

Somewhere in the Jungle

 

            You weigh your options carefully.

Sending a signal via the radio initially seems to be the best place to start.

--But what of the Decepticon who imprisoned me here and left me for dead? It would be my luck that he would be the one to intercept my signal.—

But then again, several million years is a long time. He could very well be dead.

--I hope.—

 

For the next few hours you work on repairing the radio systems.  The repairs weren’t difficult, but you kept the use of the diagnostic computer at a minimum, and since you weren’t a tech, it took most of the day to get it to send a simple distress code.

You siphon off a small amount of energy, enough to bring you back up to seventy percent.  Then make your way bat to the room with the bat-god statue.  The stream was dried up even now, leaving only a residue trace that any water had been in here to begin with.

As you entered the room, you looked up to realize that without the water, getting out would be a little more difficult than you had thought. 

After a while of struggling and climbing upward with your one hand, you finally achieve the top, berating yourself for not bringing a cord of some kind to make your exit easier. 

The sun was just setting and you hurried back down the path to where the lights in the large tent were just being lit.

 

Both scientist look up as you push aside the flap, they were standing over sets of sketches of the room down below and had been chattering excitedly.

“Ok, I’ve done two things for you now.”

“Two things?”

“I’ve shown you the cave and now I’ve emptied it of water.”

“Emptied!?”  Anton’s eyes widen in amazement.

“Yes emptied.  Plus, there’s a whole tunnel covered with what’s left of ancient carvings for you to ooo and ahh at.  But now I need a favor.”

The archaeologist put down the paper and pencil he had been working with, and his friend gave you a wary look.

“We are deeply in your debt,” begins Anton, “What do you need our assistance with?”

“I need to be rebuilt.”

 

Shortly, after explaining about your ship and what you required of them, both scientists followed you eagerly to the site.  They had reservations, worries about not being ‘technical’ scientists, but rather archaeologists, but with the diagnostic computer, it would be mostly point and click for them.  You’d be active the hole time, despite the pain it would cause, to make sure they didn’t screw anything up.  You just needed the extra hands.

They brought several thick cords that you hoped would be enough to hold your weight as you climbed down the shaft. 

Lowering yourself down, you found that you had to be patient as both doctors ooohed and aahed in the dim light at the massive statue and at the carvings along the walls of the passageway.  It took nearly two megacycles and a great deal of prodding just to get them to the chamber with your ship in it.

Once there, you didn’t think you’d ever get them to move.  Both stood stock-still with a mixture of awe, excitement, and sheer horror as they looked at your ship.  Neither moved for fifteen cycles, and for a while you were afraid you had permanently broken the fleshies.

Then they began to tentatively approach the ship.  You hoisted them up to the entrance and led them back to the med room. 

After a quick lesson on computer… that took four megacycles… they began to work on you.

Of course, by then they only had a few megacycles left until their sun was up.

But, they did rebuild your hand, and managed to do a rather nice job of it.  They left for camp and you worked on attaching the member to your melted stump.  After a few hours you were delighted to see that it worked.  It even worked perfectly!  It’s repair enabled you to spend the night working with an increased speed on making armor pieces for yourself.  It was easier for them to attach them, but you didn’t feel like another lesson on Cybertronian chemistry and metallurgy to get them started on forging the pieces.  Even with the diagnostic computer, you had to know the right combinations to get the piece the weight you wanted.

The next evening, they showed back up and began work again.

The work that night was impressive, and by the end, you almost looked normal!  Of course, there would still be several days of repairs to do, but at least you didn’t look like a rusted skeleton.

Both scientists proved adaptable and bright.  They picked up the pattern of the technology fairly quickly, and the pace constantly picked up.

During the next day you decided to take a break.  The lab was confining, and you had been in it for quite some time.

You stretched in the noontime sun.  Your transformation circuits were still inactive, and that would probably be the next thing to try out tonight, but for now, you just exalted in having skin.

As you walk though the thick jungle, a noise attracts your attention.

You move to find a clearing, and in the center is one of the bat people.  He was slightly larger than Anton was, but not overly so.

He looks up at you, “Who are you?” he asks in a youthful, lilting voice.

Something was odd.

“Starshooter.  Who are you?”

“Call me… Wing.” He smiles, ”What are you doing here?”

Something was real odd.

“Just taking a walk.”

“I can see that, but what are you doing here…  I’ve… never seen anything like you here.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.  It seems I’ve been here longer than you have, that’s for sure.”

--Why is he not asleep.—

“Longer than me, what the Pit’s that supposed to mean.” He almost seems to be asking himself.

--Why isn’t he squinting.—

“I mean I’ve been a fossil on this rock for quite some time.  Why are you out here?”

“I was uhm, just collecting some fruit.  For lunch.”

The gun was in your hand in a second –not that the weapon works--, “Who are you?”

“Whoa, chill it down a few notches lady, I’m just a friendly nati…”

“Do your homework, kid.  The natives are nocturnal.”

The bat-boy looked like a child whose hand had just been caught in the energon pool. 

“Uhm, well, I’m just… a daytime branch?”

“No.  Who are you.”

There’s a soft russel behind you and a, “Howler, MAXIMIZE!!”

You spin to see a thin bandy legged fur clad simian split his skin as metal and gears revolved and shifted him into a robot of Cybertronian origin. 

“Nightscream, MAXIMIZE!!” 

You looked and the bat was doing the same.

“Robot’s in FLESH!?!?”

“Drop the gun, oldtimer!” commanded the monkey-turned-robot.  He had a gun trained on you, and the kid had pulled one as well.

You were surrounded.

The Jungle

 

The impulse to attack is strong, but you hold back realizing that you were unarmed, damaged, and unsure of your opponents.  Caution and guile would serve you as weapons, for now.

You look from the brown and red robot Nightscream to green and gray Howler, and back again. "You're from Cybertron, aren't you?" Then you must have...energon..."

You feign a decrease in power, letting your hand holding the gun drop. The small robots regard you cautiously as you begin to sway, and fall to one knee.

Seeing a look of concern flash across the one called Nightscream's face, I actually let the useless weapon fall from my hand. He starts forward with his hand outstretched, but Howler stops him.

"Stay back, it’s a trick!"

Nightwing looked agape at him, "But look at her. She obviously needs help."

"In case you hadn't noticed, she's a Decepticon," Howler admonishes.

You speak up, weakly. "Then you're not Decepticons?"

“Hah!  Right, relic girl.  You guys are passé!”

"No, we're Maximals," Nightscream adds, more calmly,  "But we are from Cybertron"

"Maximals," you mutter, "I must have been away a very long time, for I have never heard of your faction."

"How long do you think you have been here?"

"Well, the bat people that inhabit this planet, whom I have befriended, believe I have been here several million years."

Nightscream's eyes grow large. "Wow! Maybe you've been here since before the Great Wars even started!!"

"Um, Nightscream?" Howler pulls the young Maximal aside, and the two of them begin to whisper. You cannot hear them, but it is easy to tell that Nightscream has fallen for your ploy and is trying to convince Howler to help you.

You smile inwardly.

--I have judged Nightscream well, his sympathies will be easy to play on. Howler may be a different matter…--

As the two turn back to you, it looks like Nightscream may have won the "argument.” The bat transformer has a huge grin on his face, and his friend has a wary and disgruntled look on his.

"Tell us your story, Starshooter," the young Nightscream asks as Howler bends down to pick up your gun. You do not object to this, as he will discover soon enough that it does not work.

This will only lend credence to my plight.

Quickly you tell of waking on this planet and of your amnesia.  You mention the bat scientists, again stating that you had befriended them, and how you were in the room with the bat god statue. You talk about how the two archeologists were helping to rebuild you, but how difficult it was with the planet’s level of technology.

 "So, you have a ship?" Howler asks.

"Yes, but it is in worse shape then I was when I came out of stasis lock." You exhagerate.

“So you sent out the signal hoping that a passing Decepticon battleship might pick you up?”

“I was hoping that anyone would come pick me up.  It’ll be months if not years before I could ever consider getting the ship spaceworthy, and I’m not sure these people are… quite ready for the impact of Transformer technology.”

“Well…” starts Nightscream, but Howler interrupts.

“Eh, eh.  I said we’d help her, but we’ll leave it up to the Captain to decide how that is best accomplished.  Get up, ‘Con.”

You hoist yourself up, Nightscream lending a hand to which you give a weak smile to.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a CR back on the ship.” He mutters.

“CR?”

“Boy, it has been a while, hasn’t it lady…”

 

The ship had the markings of Cybertronian technology, but was unlike anything you were used to.  Its hull was fairly smooth and rounded, and didn’t look like a battleship of any kind.  It sat in a valley hidden underneath a swath of heavy vegetation that had been pulled across its green-gray hull.

Howler had insisted on walking with a gun pulled, despite Nightscream’s objections that you were obviously too weak to be a threat.

Along the way, most questions you had asked had gone unanswered with, “The Captain will cover it.”

You did notice when Nightwing pulled a particularly luscious fruit from a bush as you passed it…

 

“What are you doing with that?”

He looked at you and looked at it, “Eat it?”

“Eat it?”

“Uhm, yeah.  The reformatting takes a lot of energy and we got the boot to go scout for you before the process was entirely complete…”

He took a healthy bite out of the fruit.

“But… are you guys robots or fleshies?!?!”

“Both…” there was a cough from behind.

“… The Captain will explain.”

 

Now, the platform lowered itself smoothly to the ground.  The three of you stepped onto it and up into the belly of the ship you went.

 

You stepped out into a command bridge of some sort.  A large table sat in the middle of the room, and there were ship controls arranged across underneath the front viewscreens.  Most screens displayed different images of the planet’s surroundings, including one of the camp where Anton and his friend slept.

Stats scrolled across one screen, orbital charts, planet weather, temperatures… as if it was measuring the very planet’s existence.

A large robot turned from the computers to greet you.  He had a deep brown fur coat covering most of his back, but when he turned to face you, a robotic body could be seen.  He was orange and black metals, about as tall as you, and had two heavy paw-like claws draped over his shoulders.

“Greetings.  Welcome aboard The Windrunner.  I’m her captain, Grizzly-1.”

You nod, and weakly reply, “My name is Starshooter.  I’m glad that someone responded to my distress signal.”

Nightscream gives a low whistle, “Nice coat Captain!” and receives a nudge in the ribs from Howler.

“Yeah, “comes a scratchy-almost whispery voice from one of the chairs, “Great coat.  Everyone got great coats!  So what the SLAG happened to me!?”  The chair spins and you see a robot who looks like a flesh-bot gone bad.  He had huge claw arms, and two wings folded down behind him.  He bore the markings of a bat, but pieces of fur jutted out at odd angles from his metal parts, and likewise pieces of metal cybernetics replace parts that were organic. 

“Whoa!  Sonar.  Who smacked you with the ugly stick!”

“Very funny kid… been online for a few hundred solar cycles and already he’s and expert on aesthetics!”

“Enough,” The big robot’s voice overrode the two, he nods as they quiet down, “Are you aware of the penalties for the use of the Decepticon sigil?”

Nightscream speaks up, “She’s been here for a few mill…”

“I was asking her.”  He points out.

“Penalties?”

“Due to ordinance of the Pax Cybertronia, all Transformers found still vowing allegiance to the Decepticon cause are to be immediately put offline.  Permanently.”

The Windrunner

               At his words, you straighten to your full height, all pretense of weakness forgotten. You look him proudly in the optics. "Allegiance? I hold no allegiance to the Decepticon cause. I AM a Decepticon. I came on-line a Decepticon and I will go off-line a Decepticon - on my own terms!"

               The massive Grizzly-1 crosses his furry arms in front of his chest and considers this for a moment.  The mutant Sonar gives a laborious sigh, and Nightscream looks anxiously between you and his Captain.

“Very well, such is your choice.  The council on Earth will decide what to do with you.  For now, it seems you are in need of repair.  Sonar, activate a repair pod.”

This new turn catches you slightly by surprise, and it must show in your eyes.

Grizzly-1 looks at you, “Your weapons and flight engines will, of course, stay off-line, but the rest of your systems will be rebuilt as they are.” He waves you on, signifying that he would follow you.

You grimace, “Then perhaps you should leave me where you found me.  I can find my own way off this mudball.”

 

He takes you a short way down the hallways behind the bridge area, and into a large bay area a deck below the main. There are two rows of pods that line the walls, their make was unknown to you, but the design bore Cybertronian influence.  Most pods pulsed with a greenish-blue light, but one was propped open and awaited you.

You stepped in, but something in the back of your CPU is itching.  Something is wrong.

As the lid cover lowers over you, the grim thought that this seems less like a form of repair and more like a coffin…

A coffin… the other pods, why were they all active, who was in them?!?

You start forward, but the lid is already locking into place.  There is a hum and an arc of energy as a plug locks into your back.

You feel your arms go numb, and your gears grind down.  Falling back against the padded seating of the small pod, you remotely feel restraints slide smoothly over your form.

--Stasis lock commencing—

Everything goes black.

 

--Accessing core consciousness—

“Starshooter.”

--Who’s there, what…?—

“This is Grizzly-1  you have been placed under stasis until we reach our rendezvous, and to give you time to try and understand your position.”

--You TRICKED me!!!—

“There were only two options, this or death.  Consider yourself lucky I chose the latter.”

--Slagging piece of rotted fleshy…--

“Enough.  You can rant all you want, but it will solve or change nothing.”

--…--

“We returned to the planet, and Nightscream spoke to your two scientist friends.  They corroborated your story, and took us to where you ship was.  We removed all traces of the Cybertronian technology, but not until after we learned what we could from it.

It did crash approximately seven million years ago.  That puts it sometime possibly near the beginning of the second Great War.”

--Second Great War?—

“Yes, this one took place between the Decepticons and the Autobots.  You elitist groups split from the Destrons and the Cybertrons completely and fought for supremacy over what little energy was left on Cybertron.”

--But there was plenty of energy.—

“There had been, but something moved Cybertron from its stellar orbit, sending it wandering through space.   As it distanced itself from host stars, it’s energy levels decreased dramatically, causing a planetary brown out.  So the wars began.”

--Who led the Decepticons?—

“Megatron.”

The name sent your consciousness reeling, images of a tall silver robot, one with a great black fusion cannon on his arm roared through your spark.

“The war continued until about four hundred years ago, at what point the Destrons, Cybertrons, Maximals, Predacons, and Autobots, all signed a treaty agreement called the Pax Cybertronia.  This agreement disbanded the Autobots and unified the other allegiances against the Decepticons.  Within years the Decepticons were completely rooted out and either destroyed or imprisoned.  Only those that foreswore their allegiance were set free.  The others were eventually taken off line permanently. “

--How could they!?!?—

“Your Decepticons had become hated, feared, just that much.  For time before time they had enslaved the other allegiances, forced their will on other planets, and nearly wiped out the Transformer race.  Hundreds of other races had perished under the hand of Decepticon offshoots.  Whole planets had been reformed into metallic mimicries of Cybertron by Jhiaxus and the Liege Maximo.  It was a dark time, and even the threat of Unicron himself did little to slow things down.”

--Unicron?!  He’s a myth!—

“No, he was real, and he attacked Cybertron twice, nearly destroying it both times.”

--And now?  Where is this ship heading?—

“Something’s wrong, Cybertron is again under siege… we don’t know by who.  The Cybertronian armada has been called to a rendezvous point to regroup.  We were passing by when we received your signal and decided to investigate.”

--So what’s the rendezvous point?—

“Don’t know, only have a set of coordinates to go on.  But once we get there, the decision will be made as to what to do with you. “

--Why tell me all this.—

“You come from a time when all of this had not yet happened, a time when the Decepticons were the elite of the Destron army, perhaps a time when you could be proud to hold the Decepticon name.  That time has passed.  The Decepticons are no more than a repugnant myth, gas guzzling megalomaniacs that nearly destroyed our race.  Perhaps its time you reconsidered what was more important, your spark or a meaningless, corrupt sigil marking.”

--…--

“I’ll leave your consciousness online and linked to the databanks for a time.  You’ll be shadowed by Sonar, but you can look to learn what you will from the history banks. Think long and hard on what you learn, because upon arriving at the rendezvous, you may or may not have a chance to change your mind.”

        --And what crimes have I committed while in stasis lock for the last few millennia? Or am I to be persecuted for simply being what I am? And who are you, anyway? You don’t bear the insignia of anything I recognize!  What are Maximals, what are Predacons?!?--

There is a click signifying Grizzly-1 disconnecting.  In frustration you try to move, but find nothing physical to put into action.

            --Stasis lock in operation.  All physical functions off-line, minimal energy feed to core consciousness active.—

--Great, I’m a brain without a body…--

 The Windrunner

 

            You begin your scan of the histories.

            A billion years of change left a lot of room to cover, so you concentrated on the highlights, specifically the highlights involving the Decepticons.

            Apparently, shortly after your disappearance, the Decepticon elite broke free from its Destron origins.  It had risen in power and taken control of all of Cybertron.  However, there was recently a rash of bad decisions.  Recently being several centuries past…

            Leadership changes and madness in the ranks, as well as a dissention that rose to unbelievable heights became the shattering force behind an Empire that had ruled Cybertron for millennia. 

            You roll back and get more detail on what had happened…

Directly after your demise something happened to force Cybertron from the orbit of the stars from which it drew energy.  Straxus died in the ensuing panic, and a new leader rose to take command.  He was brutal, but his record seemed strong.  For several centuries he waged a war to keep Cybertron under Decepticon control.  The database referred to him as a tyrant and maniacal, and his name seemed terribly familiar. 

            Megatron.

            Cybertron remained under Decepticon power for some time, until recently.  There was some problem with leadership changes, Shockwave, Scorpinok, Ratbat, Bludgeon, and then Galvatron.    Even through this, Megatron’s name kept resurging, until the final shattering point of the Empire. 

            Weakened from the various megalomaniac leaders that strung out the Empire’s resources for their own viscous desires the Empire had lost most of its forces.  Even with this legendary Megatron leading it, it crumbled under it’s own weight, spread too far and too thin, it collapsed, and the rest of Cybertron swallowed it whole.

            Apparently, around that time, all the allegiances banded together; Cybertron, Destron, Autobot, as well as two newer ones, Maximal and Predacon.  They signed a treaty called the Pax Cybertronia. This treaty disbanded the Autobots, and outlawed the Decepticons.  The remaining Decepticons were hunted and either offered the chance to change allegiances or to be deactivated, depending on the severity of their ‘crimes’.

            For the past few centruries, this new order and joint Councils had kept peace on Cybertron in a practical new Golden Age of exploration and discovery. But, aside from a few rebel Decepticons, more pirates than warriors, the Decepticon Empire had been lost.

            When you are through, you think for a long time.

            You were shocked and dismayed at seeing what had been the once proud and mighty Decepticon Elite, the warrior arm of the Destron Empire. 

            --This chaos was what Straxus had wished to avoid!!—

            The thought echoes through your head.  You could remember more and more, but that much you were sure of. 

            Then a cold feel washes over you consciousness. 

            --Could the failure of my final mission somehow have led to this madness?!?--

            No, you would not allow yourself to feel this guilt.  Your re-awakening must become an opportunity to correct any past mistakes you had made.

            Much had happened, but perhaps it was not too later… Perhaps honor could be restored to the Decepticon name.

            For the first time since awakening you begin to feel a strength of purpose.  You grapple with it, and temper it with logic.  You must not become overexcited.  The future was still dark, and time was running short.

            You decide to see what this Grizzly-1 and his ‘Maximals’ have to offer you.  If you have to, then bury the Decepticon past, but you will never forget who you are…

 

--Systems active.—

You hear a soft roar outside… an ocean roar. The cawing of birds seems to greet you from a great distance.

--System scan…--

            --All systems at repair optimum.  Weapon and transformation capabilities offline.  Flight capability offline.  Defense capability offline.--

You groggily open your optics.

A piercing shaft of light pours into them.  You squint hard, and your eyes rapidly adjust.  You are still inside the pod, but now it felt more upright.  Through the small window, a huge building could be seen basking in the brilliant sunlight. Purple metal shimmered with a chromed gleam from the side, adding to the brilliant glare that dazzled your optical sensors.

“Greetings Starshooter.” A familiar voice.

You looked down to see a robot stepping up to the pod.  You didn’t recognize his form, green and purple camouflage with extended wings behind him and a huge gattling style projectile cannon atop his shoulder, but there would be no mistaking who he was. 

--Megatron!!!!!!!!!!!—

 

            You had worked beside him for some time, learning his ways and preparing the final trap for him.  He was planning something terrible, and Straxus was wary.  Megatron was one of the greatest generals he had at his command, but there was a hunger in him that was not likely to be quenched as a mere general.

He trusted you now, and had told you of his quest for, ‘the great Seal,’ a data disk that could control the very core of Cybertron itself.  It had been taken away millennia upon millennia ago by a mad robot who had mastered the basics of hyper-flight in his labs.

At any rate, now Megatron thought he had found the location of the Seal, and it had fallen to you to make sure that he didn’t get his hands on it.

The best thing to do was to get your hands on it first.  So, four nights after he confided it’s location to you, you left Cybertron and headed to the stars…

 

He had to be the one that had shot you… the one with the fusion cannon.  The Megatron, who had become a legend while your own Straxus was barely remembered!!

Megatron looked into the pod from the sunny, outside world.  His silver eyes regarded you for a second.

--It’s over…--

Dreams of restoring Decepticon honor shattered like broken glass from your spark, the pieces scattering down around your feet with a terrible music.

You had lost, in seconds that terrible shoulder cannon would fire off, and you would once again enter the void, perhaps this time for good.

There was a clicking noise, and you flinched.

Then the roar of the ocean became louder.  You feel the heat of this planets star against your metallic skins the cold steam floats out of the capsule.  You open your eyes as you fall forward, dropping down to the ground as the pod’s supports are finally released. 

Several birds squawk in distress at the sudden movement as your body drops to the ground.

Confusion floods your CPU as you wait for the fiery blast of fusion death.

            “So, you have decided not to relinquish your Decepticon heritage.   For a bot of your time, I can well understand why.”

            You shift, pushing yourself up, your legs were stiff, but strong.

            You stand and look into your captors face.

            “Welcome to Earth.  My name is Megatron…”

            --HE DOESN’T REMEMBER!!!!!!—

            “And I am commander here of a new Decepticon force.”

            “A new…?”

            “Cybertron is under attack by a faction of underbreeds calling themselves Decepticons.  We plan to return and reclaim our home.  For all of Cybertrons sake…”

The Windrunner

 

            --By Primus, Unicron, and Cybertron itself!! This could be my chance!--

"Commander," You say aloud. "On my journey to this place I have had the opportunity to examine the history of the last several millennia. I see that much has changed since my time.”

You stand to your full height and stare the massive robot in the face, “I would like to learn more of these new Decepticons and, if you will have me, join in the fight to reclaim our homeworld. I was, and still am, a warrior."

Megatron regards you for a moment.  His silver eyes glinting brightly in the bright sunlight.  For a second, you swear you see a spark of recognition in those eyes, or something else…

You fervently hope no memories of you are returning!

At last he speaks, "Very well. For now you will report to the repair station to complete your systems. You will then receive your new assignment… as a Decepticon."

He turns and strides away, another robot of similar coloring stares at you from the sidelines for a few seconds longer, then turns and follows him in stride.

You look around, wondering where the repair station is. Leaning against the stasis pod to the left, you see Sonar.

He was scratching at one of his oversized ears.  Sighing he pushed of and fluttered one of his mutated cyber-organic wings, "C’mon, star girl…"

 

He takes you down into the Transmetal city itself. You pass several bots on the way, Decepticons mostly, but a few Predacons, and even an Autobot.

As you walked, you became curious as to your choice of guides, “How come you’re the one taking me there?”

The blue and red bat jerks his head back, some of his shaggy brown patches of fur fluttering with the rapid movement. Furtively, he cocks his head, “Don’t know, really, just know that the big bear told me I was to stay with you.  At least until they reassign your rusty side rails.”

“How long have we been here?”

“About a day and a half, they took awhile getting around to thinking about you, but made a pretty quick decision… sorta.”

“What is going on here?”

“Like he said, we’re all returning to Cybertron to kick bot on a group of freaks who apparently pulled out Unicron’s horn for a hood ornament on their new warstation.”

“Unicron… he’s only myth!”

“Nope, apparently he surface several times a few centuries back.  He was defeated first by sheer brute strength of the combined forces of Cybertron, and then beat back through the use of the Matrix of Creation.  That time he left his head orbiting Cybertron as a reminder that sometimes myths can come true.”

“His head?”

“Yeah, it was destroyed some years later, but the horn remained and apparently these psychobots got hold of it and thought it’d be ‘cute’ to mount it on their ship.”

“So all the forces here…”

“We’re all one biiiig happy family, Autobots…”

“I thought they were disbanded?”

“They were… but it looks like a few stayed on this planet for a time.  At any rate, Autobots, Decepticons, Maximals, Predacons, Destrons, and Cybertrons are all working together this time to go show the other Decepticons whose boss.”

“Hmm…”

“There’s already an impressive amount of the Cybertronian Armada gathered here.  Apparently Megs back there is working with some other legend, Optimus Prime, and some guy everyone calls Admiral Backdraft.”

You reach the Repair bays, most of which is dark and quiet.

Sonar walks over and activates a chamber.  It was considerably larger than the stasis pod, and it’s hatch popped open and lifted up to reveal a resting pad that was slightly tilted back.  You step in and several straps loop over you to hold you in place.

“Ok,” explains Sonar, “This is a CR chamber.  It’s a little more advanced than those archaic repair beds like you had in that puddle jumper of yours.  These bad boys are capable of a complete body restructuring if you choose, and they will always max out your capabilities to match the outlays of the bodies.  They’re even capable of a static rebuild from nothing more than a spark… which from what I hear is how Megatron got reborn. At any rate, most of you is already rebuilt using Machine technology, and all you really need to do is sit back and let it rebuild your weapons and transformation circuits.  So, without further delay, have a good nap, and I’ll be sitting over their watching cartoons whenever you get out.”

The lid swings shut and you feel yourself slip into stasis again…

Earth : Trypticon

 

            After what seems to be only a few astro-seconds, the lid opens again.  You slowly sit up, blinking your optics clear…

            “These CR chambers certainly are fast!”  You remark to Sonar, who is huddled over a monitor that is flashing brightly colored images.

            “What…?  Oh, you’re back.  About time.”

            Unsure of his meaning, you ask, “Just how long was I in stasis?”

            “Eh, a megacycle and a half.”  He responds, but seems engrossed in whatever the monitor was displaying.  Still not looking at you he continues absentmindedly,  “The stasis pod hadn’t messed with your transformation circuits, weapons, or even engines, so this CR still had a few things to update.”

            You stretch, quietly muttering, “There were no dreams this time…” to yourself.  You figure that it was probably because you had few, if any memories left to uncover.

            A quick diagnostic check reveals that everything is now online, and considerably improved.   In fact, energon usage is down to one percent of previous intake!

            “Sonar, do you think it would be alright if I transformed and flew around a little?”

            “Not in hear.”

            “I know not in here, I meant outside!”

            “I don’t know… we’re supposed to be reporting to get your new assignment…”

            You pressed the issue, “It’s just been so looong since I’ve left the ground on my own.  I’ve been a flier all my life, and these last few solar cycles since I woke up have been… frustrating.”  You look at him imploringly, "Surely you must understand that." You look pointedly at his wings.

            “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask.  I’ve got to inform the boss bots that you’re active at any rate.”

            He flips a switch, resolving the monitor’s colorful screen into the faceplate of a Decepticon.  After a brief conversation with the blue faced bot on the other end, he turns back to you.

            “Yeah, thumbs up on the stretch break.  Seems the base leader understands your dilemma. C’mon.”

 

            Outside the sun shone down brilliantly on the shiny purple city.  Sonar had taken you back to the landing platform where your stasis pod had been brought.  Down below you can hear the sounds of the city.  It seemed to be filled with all kinds of vehicles… some registered as Cybertronian, some registered as ‘human’… whatever that was.

            You find that data recognition patterns for several new things had been added into your databanks.  You could scan out and separate Maximal, Predacon…

            --Seems these CR chambers are rather detailed!—

            Sonar stood next to you, squinting at the blinding sunlight, “Yeah, let’s get off this crate.  SONAR BEAST MODE!!   He transforms into a bizarre looking mutant bat.  He claws stretched out from the tips of his wings, forming sharp talons.  Long fangs hung from his mouth, and two robotic claws trailed behind him.  He leaped into the air, catching the wind around you on the thick leathery folds of his wings.

            “Here goes…  STARSHOOTER, TRANSFORM!!”

            You fold out into the air, your head rotating away and being replaced…  Wings spread out between the sharp metallic blades of your back, and your legs fold together and up into the body.  Your chestplate becomes a head that screeches in surprise at the surprising feeling of flesh being pieced together.

            You flapped wings lined with sharp, silvery blades and hovered for a moment, feeling a new feeling of free flight.  No stiff form, no reliance on engines… Just the energizing feeling of being one on one with the air.

            You flap up into the higher drafts, finding the infusion of beast and robot thrilling.  You begin to try a few of the aerial acrobatics you’d been so fond of long ago.  As you looped around Sonar, he appeared amused.  As you passed by a building you stopped to stare at yourself in the shimmery purple metal.

            --A bat?—

            The form was indeed a bat, no doubt spurred by your encounters on the planet a few solar cycles ago… The form was reddish, and had several robotic pieces to it, including a booster pack for extra speed.  Unlike Sonar, you weren’t mutated, but you were still partially cybernetic. The robot and beast pieces molded together perfectly to complete a quite monstrous form.  You decide that you could get to like this.

            “How far out can I go!”  You yell over your shoulder.

            “As far as you want, as long as we report back in about fifteen cycles.

            You admire yourself for a few more segments, then notice someone in one of the buildings eyeing you.  It was the Decepticon from earlier.  The one that shared Megatron’s colors.

            He stood, arms folded, watching you intently.

            You swoop away from the wall and over to Sonar, “Who’s that?”

            “Who’s who?”

            “That bot in the windows over there.”

            Sonar looks but shrugs, “I don’t see anyone…”

            You turn to see that indeed, the Decepticon had disappeared, “Never mind…  see if you can keep up.”

            “Booster pack active!”

            Suddenly, you realize that you were undergoing another transformation, just a slight shifting this time.  The blades moved out on your wings, spreading them into a more rigid position, and your jaws spilt wide apart, the slanting nose of a jet protruding from the bat’s throat.  Your clawed feet folded up flat and the back of the booster pack spread out.

            You squawk in surprise as the city turns into a bright purple blur.  There is a sensation of air ripping apart ahead of you as you realize, that you must have already hit mach two or three!!

            You transform in surprise, slamming out of the speed blur and tumbling down, nearly falling into the dark waters below.

            You recover and shake your head, “Whoa…” 

            It’s not that you’ve never gone that fast… in fact, you could go twice that fast before… and you’re pretty sure given a few more segments and you would surpass even that… It was just that you didn’t think a BAT could go that fast!

            You look around, the base is nowhere to be seen.

            In fact, nothing is anywhere to be seen, just a wide expanse of water.

            “This is Trypticon City to Starshooter.”

            “Uhm, Starshooter here.”

            “This is Spacecase.  Why don’t you go ahead and turn your shiny new butt back home.  And next time, try not to hit mach speeds while still thirty feet from a building, ok?”

            --Oops…--

            “Sorry… where’s Sonar.”

            “He’s a bat you know, sound sensitive… He’s out cold from the sound blast that hit him from three meters away.”

            --Double oops…--

            “I really didn…”

            “Cut it, just get back here.  Don’t worry, the other bat’ll be fine, just needs to wake back up.”

            You transform… to a bat, and head back towards Trytpticon.

 

            As you reach the base, you find a rather angry looking Sonar waiting.

            “You just HAD to test out the jet engines?”

            “Look, I’m really sorry, I had no idea that a bat could move that fast!”

            “Well, get used to it.  We didn’t degrade in technology, we upgraded.  Just because we look like regular animals doesn’t mean we MOVE like regular animals.”

            You shake your head, “So many things have changed…”

            “Come on old-timer.  It’s time you report to your new duty station.”

            “Where is it? Here on Trypticon?”

            “We could be so lucky…” he mutters under his breath, “Nope, it seems that SOMEONE has come up with the bright idea that mixing the forces on the ships would be ‘beneficial’ to the general atmosphere of ‘cooperation.’”

            You stop, looking over at him, “Wait… what are you saying.”

            “What I’m saying is that you are the newest member onboard the Maximal ship Waverunner.”

            “What!?  By whose orders!?”

            “Looks like Commander Starscream’s orders.”

            “Who?!”

            He stops and waves his hands in the air sarcastically, “He’s the miiiighty do-boy for your Lord Megatron.  They’se somehow ‘linked’ from what I understand.”

            “Linked?”

            “Heh, yeah, from the skidplate if you ask me. You’ve probably seen him, he’s running around this big purple city of yours.  In fact, he was at your awakening on deck earlier.  The shorter bot that had ol’ Meggy’s coloration.” He turns and starts walking.

            --The one that was watching me earlier.—

            “Great, just great.   So they give me complete repairs, complete freedom, but assign me to a Maximal ship?  What am I gonna do?  Catalogue flowers?!”

            Sonar stopped again and turned to look at you.  All sarcasm was gone from his face, and a serious, almost final tone entered his voice.

 “No.” He shakes his head, a sad look on his face, “No, you’ll go to war.”

Earth: Metroplex

 

    "You forget, Sonar," you reply lightly, "I am a Decepticon.  War is what we were created for."

    "You might not want to keep reminding everyone of that fact.  Chances are, you'll be the only Con aboard.  But, maybe those warrior instincts of your's will do some good."  The last statement was muttered and you could barely catch it.

    Now, you were heading out onto the foredecks of Metroplex.  The Windrunner is being outfitted there, it's armaments being refitted for heavy battle.  Nightscream is waiting for you there when you arrive.

    "Hey Starshooter!  I heard you'd be joining us! Welcome aboard... I see they gave you a new form.  Wow, three bats in one crew... for if you count battle-bear's little helper."

    --It's going to be a long trip...--

    "Where is the cap'?" Sonar asks.

    "Over there." Nightscream waves a robotic hand in that direction.

    "Good, let's go have a chat... We'll be right back, Starshooter."  Sonar and Nightscream walk around to the far side of the ship, and you are left alone.  You take the quiet opportunity to think about the ramifications of what Sonar had told you. 

    --Starscream is on Earth!--

    The thought intrudes on your processors.  At first you felt excitement to see an old ally again.  But, it quickly fades as you recall that he knew about the Seal of Cybertron, and about the plot against Megatron.  It was a long time ago, but on darker reflection, you realized that it seems he had been watching you ever since you had come to this planet. Perhaps he remembered what Megatron didn't?

    The question was how loyal was he toward Megatron these days.  Hearing about his link to him... and the similar coloration... no the matching coloration, led you to believe that he may be very loyal now.

    --Then why had he not already warned Megatron?  And why assign me to this Maximal ship...--

    Sonar and Nightscream were coming back with Grizzly-1.

    Grizzly-1 looked down at you over his broad crossed arms, "Looks like you'll be joining us on this little adventure.  I want you to take the new weapon systems.  But first, Nightscream here will take you around the ship.  Get aquainted with it'sgeneral systems and capabilities, then start your work on fine-tuning the weapons to your liking.   

    "C'mon lady-bat, it's time to do our homework!"  He grins as he walks past the burly Maximal captain.

    Inwardly, you groan...

Earth: The Windrunner

 

    After a few solar cycles of work, you had to admit..

    The ship wasn't a bad piece of work.

    Of course, you had a lot of catch-up to play to update the battle mappings.  Mostly the systems had been set for defensive postures.  Even with the speed, shielding and firepower that the comparatively small ship held, you had to wonder that they weren't picked out of the sky by more warlike races. 

    You used your own computers to update the battle tactics databases.  Hopefully, that matched with the ships capabilities would prove to make a fair opponent.

    However, despite the advancements made in power usage, shielding, firepower, maneuverability... you still were far behind the race compared to some of the Predacon Hunter ships that were in the fleet, or compared to the massive Destron and Cybertron Defender classes!

    A few millennia of development made your old ship look like a scooter bike!

    For all his youthful eagerness, Nightwing was admitably good at hacking systems, and some of his help was invaluable in deciphering the subtle changes in coding languages that made this new technology almost overwhelming.

    The monkey onboard, Howler, was also a great help.  The older Maximal was a fair hand at engineering and new the systems of the Windrunner inside and out.

    The three of you hammered and patched the ship until you managed to actually boost the weapons and shield even further than previously thought possible.

    Grizzly-1 kept a fairly watchful eye on you, but to his credit, he was practical minded and seemed to be an apt commander.  However, you heard that his temper was legendary...

    Every so often you would take wing outside , enjoying the newfound thrill of flight via this engineless bat form.  It was during one of these flights that you received a rather surprising call.

   

    "This is Sonar, callin' the bat lady.  Hey Star, you closeby?"   

    "Starshooter here.  What's up?"

    "Seems our works drawn some attention from your warclan buddies next door."

    "What?"

    "The Decepticon's are sending a team over to examine the work done on the Windrunner.  Thinks it may help re-align some of their ships.  Word is that Starscream himself is bringing the team in."

    --Starscream!?--

    "So... why should I be there... They've got our work logs."

    "Pandabear2000 wants us all on deck and shining.   Feels it's an honor to have the attention on the Windrunner."

    --So why doesn't Grizzly just stand by smiling!!  It's his slaggin' ship!!--

    "Ok, I'm on my way."

    You cut the transmission and suck in a deep breath of the salty air... something else that was new to these forms.  Apparently the bestial advances included advanced processors that simulated a biologicals senses.

    With a swoop you dove for the shiny silvery decks of Autobot City.

Earth: Metroplex

 

    You land on the deck of Autobot City.  Numerous other Transformers are going about their business in the midday sun, paying me no mind.  You reflect with amusement at what the presence of a Decepticon in their midst would have done in years past.

    You make your way to the Windrunner, trying to think of anything but the inspection.

    --Maybe I'll be lucky and Starscream won't even notice me!  Yeah, right... in our whole crew of five!--

    Well, perhaps today there will be an answer to your long unspoken questions.

    You reach the ship, and find the others already gathered for the inspection.  To their honor, none of the stalwart Maximals looked nervous, even Nightscream, who of course looked excited as usual.

    "All right." Grizzly-1 growls, "Their on their way, line up according to rank."

    You take your place near the middle of the row, between Sonar and Howler.  A shadow falls over you and the roar of jets are heard.

    Sonar grumbles,"Showoffs."

    "Stow that!" barks Grizzly-1.

    You see three jets, and for a second wonder who it was accompanying Starscream.  Once it would have been two of his lieutenants, Thudercracker and Skywarp.  You smile at the thought, but the reality of the present soon returns as the three jets transform and land with a thud in front of you.

    "Air Commander Starscream reporting." grated the fore bot.  He had changed considerably in the years, and you had to admit for the better.  His new frame was camouflaged like Megatrons had been, green and gray, and he now bore a red eye visor and a black face plate.  Impressive.

    Grizzly-1 stepped forward, "Crew of the Windrunner at your disposal, Air Commander." he then nods at the others, "Space Case, Skyjack."

    --So, not the old Transformers I remember... Some other loyals that Starscream had picked up on his journeys.--

    That fit the bill, Starscream always made sure to have at least two lieutenants that would obey his orders, blindly.

    --Some things just don't change.--

    The inspection began, without any apparent notice from Starscream.  The ship was looked over, and you and Sonar displayed the upgrades on the weapons and shields. Starscream watched and asked questions, but never deviated from the assignment.

    As the inspection ended, Starscream went into one of his flattery speeches...

    "...and I believe that the excellent work you and your crew have done here, will no doubt ensure that any edge the savage branch of Psuedo-cons is nullified with the experience and upgrading lessons your computers will download into the main city group."

    "And what of the other ships?"  asks Grizzly-1, "Will they have access to the data?"

    "Any ship that is linked to the central computers will have the information, however, I am afraid that only the tactical information itself will be of solid help."

    "Why's that?" the bear grimaces.

    "We are nearly ready to set out.  System modifications can not be made in space.  I'm afraid that you may have to be our point ship."

    "What?!"

    You notice a glint of amusement in Starscreams optic, "Your ship is already outfitted and prepared, and, as it has a weapons officer of esteemed worth, will become the point ship.  After all, I among others, would not wish for Megatron, or your Optimus Prime, to go blindly into a battle without a forerunner."

    "Or a bullet catcher?!" Growls Grizzly, his eyes glittered red.

    "Step down, Captain.  Do not forget who you are addressing." There was a dangerous edge to Starscream's voice.

    You could almost see the rage bristling in the dark fur across the Maximal's back.  You thought for a moment that he would jump on Starscream and rip his faceplate clean off, but instead, the Captain stormed off, stomping up into the ship.

    The rest of the crew looked at a loss.  Starscream turned, definitely with a glint of amusement, "Dismissed crew.  Prepare yourself well for your assignment."

    With that, the others quickly shuffled off into the Windrunner.  You however stood your ground as the two other jets took to the air.

    "Starscream." You couldn't believe you blurted the name out.

    He turned, "Ahh, The 'New Decepticon' Starshooter." a hint of familiar mockery tainted his voice.

    "Why use an exploration ship for a forerunner."  You were surprised... you were mad!

    "Let's just say that Megatron handed down the order."

    "Mega..." thoughts started racing through your mind, and piecing themselves together.

    "Yes.  Do not underestimate him Starshooter.  That was your mistake before."

    You feel your mouth drop open in shock.

    "Indeed.  Bide your time, perhaps your vindication will present itself.  But know you are being watched very carefully."

    You grab his arm, "Why are you still with Megatron... why do you share his body?!"

    "I failed, and now this is my penance.  However, I plan not to stay that way for long.  I can see what he feels, but not what he knows for certain.  It will be my tool for my revenge upon him.  As I said, Starshooter.  Bide your time."

    With that, the green and gray jet transformed and flew off.

Earth: The Windrunner

   

    You stare in shock at the retreating form of Starscream. 

    --Slag, slag, SLAG!--

    Your worst fears were coming closer to realization.  You force your eyes away from your former comrade, and calm yourself. 

    --Well, I suppose this can be considered and answer... of sorts.  But I haven't survived millions of years in stasis and traveled all this way to die as some pawn now!--

    You turn quickly on your heel and enter the ship.  Your crewmates are talking quietly among themselves, and there is a tangible tension in the air.  You go to the weapons console and begin a diagnostic check.  Then begin a simultaneous check on the shields.

    --If we are to survive this, there may still have to be some more adjustments made.--

    "What are you doing?" Howler asks, noticing your rather intense expression.

    "Making preparations.  We are going to get through this alive."  You turn to look at him, to see the whole crew staring at me.

    "We will."  You reiterate firmly.

 

    More detail was made, the crew buckling down and truly rebuilding the systems.  You found that Sonar and Nightscream were actually rather resourceful in 'finding' equipment.  Especially around the site where they were finishing rebuilding the link between the two cities and the ship Soulfire.

    You reworked the forward planes of the ship, re-angling them for more deflection, and then matching them with a different energy shield that Sonar and Howler managed to hobble together.

    On the second day of the work, Grizzly-1 called you into his office.

    You braced yourself.

    "You wanted to see me, Grizzly?"

    The massive bear stood, looking out the window at the sea.  His arms were crossed behind his back, and he looked up at your reflection as you walked in, "Yes.  I wanted to talk about the work your doing to the Windrunner."

    "Look," you cut him off, "I know that you think I may be filling their heads with foolish ideals of surviv..."

    "Will you let me finish?!" the bear turned around and leaned over his desk, "I wanted to thank you for what you've done so far.  We're going into a war, and right now, you are this ships best hope for survival.  I do, however, want to make it clear that we will be heading straight into the battle.  We have been chosen as the forerunner for the forces, for god or bad.  That means that we will be making the path for our main forces to follow.  As captain of this ship I will do everything in my power to make sure that we fulfill that obligation."

    You frown, "Even if it means getting scrapped in the process?"

    He stands up to his full height, "Even if it means shoving this ship straight into the Warworld itself, and if it does come to that... I want you to make sure that we can walk away from it with guns blazing."

    You couldn't help but smile, "That I can do."

    "Starshooter, I know that you are a stranger in a strange land here... and I also know that there's something more to your being placed here than just luck.  If you weren't glaring at Starscream, he was staring at you.  Whatever enmity or alliance you may have, know this... If it does come to one on one fighting on the ground... you're back is covered."

    You didn't know what to say, you were actually quite stunned.  If it had been a Decepticon you might have taken the claim with a grain of salt, but if these Maximals were anything like their Autobot predecessors...

    You straightened up and saluted the massive Maximal, "Then I'll make sure we're covered in the air... Captain."

Earth: The Windrunner

 

    You feel you've done all you can.  Another night without rest is drawing to an end. 

    Your shipmates have already retired to their recharge chambers.  Only Howler, who is on watch duty, is still awake with you.  You're feeling too restless to retire yourself, but you also can not look at the control panels a minute longer.

    "I'm going for a short flight." You tap the monkey's shoulder.

    "Ok," he yawns, "Just stay within spitting distance.  We could be called to go at any moment."

    You go outside in the dark pre-dawn night, transforming into your bat mode.

    You flap out over the deep black oceans below.  The wind swept cold over your flesh as you headed farther and farther away, until the city was a safe distance away.

    Then, it was into jet mode, and with a roar, you head off into the sky as false dawn began to color it a grayish blue.

    After a while, you slow down, noticing a small, rocky island below you.  It appears to be no more than a rock outcropping, being little more than fifty meters across and maybe ten meters out of the water.  Ocean waves break violently upon its jagged edge, causing fountains of water to spray chaotically into the air.  You land and watch the phenomena. 

    You realize, as you watch, just how little you know of the small, strange planet.  But looking out into the water's spray and velvety, star speckled morning sky, you had to admit that you found it visually... interesting.

    The sky was becoming streaked with light, so you stand and watch the great orange ball of this planet's sun slowly rise over the water.  The horizon seems to curve as the sun ascends... and optical illusion.  Certainly, this was something one never experienced on the free-floating Cybertron.

    --Beep beep.--

    The comm unit's signal was intrusive on the cold peace of the morning light.

    "Starshooter here."

    "Star, this is Howler.  You'd better get back here.  The call just came in. The exodus begins, today."

 

    The first rays of fiery sunlight ignite the landscape in the foggy, chill morning air. 

    The fog seems to lightly and fluidly swirl in the quiet breeze. 

    All at once, the morning is broken by the ignition of sub-orbital engines warming up, the steady fog churning away from the heat in a mad rush to avoid burning off.  A few small ships rise into the light blue sky quickly, easily beating the gravity of Earth, while the larger ships rise slowly.  Their engines whining loudly as they are called upon to give the huge bulks lift.

    Admiral Backdraft stares out the window of the bridge of his ship, the Soulfire, which was now attached to the massive bulks of two cities.

    The light gently pours into the bridge, caressing it in a gentle warmth. It gleamed off of his new orange chrome.  The sharp angles and slicked back wings catching it's rays in a dazzling display of color.

    He thoughtfully sighs as he walks to the front of the bridge and look to his crew.

    The golden Cybertron Retrohopper manned the navigation center, with the Predacon Rascal as main pilot.  Several others worked with her, and in conjunction with groups onboard the cities, to control the massive ship.  Battlestripe, the massive Maximal warrior,  was there, ready and waiting at the gun controls.  The ancient Roadbuster, who had once again donned the sigil of the Autobots sat at the tactical station. 

    Backdraft walked with a steady stride to the command chair and turn to the comm, nodding for them to open a channel.   

    "This is Admiral Backdraft, aboard the Cybertronian battleship Soulfire.  We are ready for departure.  And now, we, the Cybertronian/Earth United Fleet, begin our Exodus from Earth.  We leave the orbit of this star, and go to fight for our homeworld in the coldness of space.  This is a fight unlike any we have taken part in before.  It is a fight where the Cybertrons, Destrons, Autobots, Decepticons, Maximals, and Predacons fight alongside each other to give rest to an insurrection.  We not only fight for our homeworld, but the homeworld of those to come.  Let us give rise to the next wonderful age of peace!"

    He nodded again, this time to Retrohopper who signals the confirmation of the navigation  coordinates for the jump point.  Outside, the blue skies had already faded into the twinkling darkness of space.  Many ships floated here, all turning their paths toward the rendezvous.

    "Retrohopper, you have the bridge.  I'll be back in time for the jump."

    The Cybertron nods and signals another bot to take his position.

   

    Within half a megacycle, the fleet sat crouched, ready for the departure. A silent signal was given, and in a flash, they were gone. Folded into warped space, steadily crossing the vacuous eternity, heading back to their destiny.

Windrunner: Warped Space

 

    You stared moodily out of the forward veiwport.  The Windrunner could reach Cybertron in a single day, but the massive city-ship conglomeration that was the center of this fleet was considerably slower than that.  It would take several days at the least to reach Cybertron.

    And there were standing orders not to allow the smaller, faster ships to race ahead.  Tactically it was completely sound.  If the ships strung themselves out, then the Decepticons could simply sit and take out the fleet one by one.

    Of course, the knowledge that this ship could go five times its current speed made you want to slam it into overdrive.  Your old ship could only go a fraction of the speed that you were now cruising at!

    Which... as you glanced over at the readout screen... was slightly slower than it had been a few minutes ago.

    Concerned, you tapped in a schematics check to verify the drop in acceleration.  Sure enough, the ship had started slowing down twenty cycles ago.  The slowdown was almost imperceptible, but a micro-meter gauged the change at a steady pace.

    Quickly, you set off a series of scans to see if there was something wrong with the engines.  They would take a few cycles to run.  You sit back considering what could be causing it.

    "Something wrong?"  Grizzly-1's voice rumbled next to your shoulder.

    You stopped just before you jumped from surprise and simply turn toward the bear to cover any undue movements you might have made, "We're loosing speed."

    "Were you planning on telling me?"  the thick plated Maximal's eyes flashed in momentary anger.

    "I wanted to make sure."  you covered.

    --Plus, I don't like team work.--

    He moved from his seat to your station, "How much of a decrease?"

    "It's slow, 2 naniticks per segment.  But it's been going on for twenty cycles or so.  I dare say that its proven very uniform."

    "Sonar, " the captain turned toward the Blue and maroon bat-bot, "signal Backdraft's ship, let him know we're having problems."

    "On it." 

    "Now, " Grizzly-1 turned back to your station, "You're running a scan on the engines?"

    "I've got several high level tech scans running now."

    "Hrm, a quick sensor scan might have been a better route."

    "Never know what a quick scan might miss."  you snort.

    "Very well, then at least run a quick scan on transmission wavelengths."

    "Transmissions?"

    "Yeah, some pirates can use energy wavelengths to pull ships from warped space."

    "Really?"  you tapped in a new scan to add to the computer's problems.  That was something you hadn't even realized was possible.  Amazing what a few millennia of inactivity misses.

    This scan came back quick, "There's no major energy cascades around us, nothing the computer would register as dangerous."

    "Sir?" Sonar's voice interrupted, "Apparently all the ships are experiencing the slowdown!"

    "All of them?"

    "Yeah, something's pulling us down.  The Admiral's ship estimates the time at three megacycles until we are completely out of warp!"   

Hyperspace: The Windrunner

 

    You sit back as the scan on the ship goes.

    Sonar turns to Grizzly-1, "Sir, incoming transmission from the Admiral."

    The Captain nods, "On screen."

    A reddish orange Cybertron appeared on the screen.  You assumed that he must be Admiral Backdraft, "Cybertronian Fleet, this is Admiral Backdraft speaking.  As many of you are aware, we are being pulled out of subspace.  There is no cause for alarm, however, let us not become lax from our size and power.  Be prepared.  Something or someone is pulling us from our course, for on reason or another, and we will give them the fright of their lives.  All ships, prepare for an attack.  Even if this is friendly or insignificant, we can not be too cautious in time of war."

    The signal ended, leaving you in silence.

 

    A megacycle passes excruciatingly slowly.  Then, a red light flashes on your panels, signifying that the scans you started earlier were finished.  You brought up the results...

    Nothing very weird, nothing dangerous.  The only abnormality was some kind of fungal growth on the outer hull... near the engines...

    --Wait, how could it still be growing in space?!--

    You refine the scan to show data on the mold.  It apparently was giving off a soft radiance of some kind, and it didn't register as any plant form that the computer recognized.

    You tapped up a picture of the outer surface of the engine units.

    An image of the aft of the Windrunner appeared on your console.   It clicked forward, zooming in on the engines itself.  Past the soft white glow of the thrusters, you could see the metal sidewalls of the units themselves.   They were shimmering with a swirling pattern of energy, one that twitched and shifted as if it was alive...

    You did a further scan of them.  Finding indeed that the fungus was alive!  In fact, it was thickest near the exhaust ports, and was spreading out from there!

    "Captain, I think you'd better look at this..."

    Within minutes the data was being sent to the main ship.  Sonar relayed until a monitor clicked on in front of you.  The image of the earlier Cybertron, the russet colored chromed Admiral appeared, "Admiral."

    "Starshooter, what have you found?"

    "I'm not sure.  It appears that there is some type of growth that is feeding on energy being emitted from our Transwarp engines..."

The Soulfire: Hyperspace

 

    "Let's get a reading of a sample of this 'growth'." The rust colored robot stated on the monitor.

    You grimace, "And how do you suppose we do that Admiral?  It is on the outside of the ship?"

    He stares back impassively, "Get ready for some zero G work, and grab some protective gear from the ship.  We need this examined ASAP.  We don't know what it could mean for our impending battle."

    "Go out there?! I'm no worker drone!" you gripe.

    "Yes, go out there.  A worker drone wouldn't know how to deal with conditions if they altered rapidly, nor would it be able to make observations the way a real bot could.  Besides, if you were quick enough to catch the growth in the first place, maybe you might notice something that a drone would completely miss.  Take a cutting laser with you, and a laser trap.  I don't want anyone touching it directly."

    You freeze the picture and sound, turning to Grizzly-one, "Captain Grizzly, request permission to drop out of hyperspace, and collect 'my' sample."
    "You might want to clear that with the Admrial." he replies gruffly.

    You unfreeze the monitor, "Then I might suggest we at least drop out of hyperspace?"

    "Of course," Backdraft sighed,  "it's too dangerous to try it otherwise. I will be sending out the shutdown signal in five cycles."

    You stare back at him for a few segments, cold anger smoldering in your eyes, you'd do it, but you wanted him to know you didn't want to, "Acknowledged Admiral.  Windrunner out." 

    Truth be known, you are the logical choice, and you would rather see this stuff for yourself at any rate.

    You just didn't like being beat to the punch by some slaggin' boltcase that thinks he's impressive in his shiny new armor.

   

    Within a few cycles, the entire fleet drops from hyperspace. You were prepared to go outside.  Nightscream assisted you, cloaking you in a airtight spray on suit that should protect you from contagion.  He handed you a laser torch, and a small, boxlike device.

    "It's kinda a handheld tractor beam." he explains as he points out the control buttons, " just hit this and it opens and locks onto it's target.  You can program it to target any freefloating mass under a quarter of a meter square. Hit this button to shut and lock it."

    You nod, taking the box from him, "Thanks kid."

    Turning you entered the spacious airlock onboard the Windrunner.

    Air quickly pumped out of the space, and as it did so, your own systems reregulated the mech fluids that pumped under your syntheflesh.  It added in a anti-coagulant, and an anti-freeze strain and emptied out the larger masses of fluids that may freeze and burst otherwise.

    Your skin detects the sudden, sharp drop in temperature as the doors slide open, open to the velveteen darkness of space. 

    You step free, jumpjets kicking in to boost you gently out into the void.

    It was dark here, nothing other than distant starlight and the ship's own lights, which had been switched back on to help you.  You activate some light sets on your bladed wings, shining their light in front of you as you gently floated to the rear of the Windrunner.

    The fungus had definitely grown...  and in rather irregular patches as well.  Now, greenish'grass' seemed to be sprawling in clumpy patches  across the engine.  You moved in to look closely, staring at the odd, pearlescent quality of the blades.

    Then you realized that a patch moved.

    You hold still, watching and realize that indeed, one patch, seemed to grow slightly in the few segments that you watch it.  The blades became thicker, rounder... not blades, but small trailing vines...

    You look around, seeing several other patches of the same growth...

    --What's causing it?!  The engines are off!--

    You wished there was more light.  Three lamps shined back on each engine, but their light only covered part...

   -- ... only covers the parts that were growing!--

    Plants needed light, and these seemed to be thriving suddenly!

    Quickly you jetted forward for your sample, shutting your own lights off, so as not to add to the problem.  You aim and fire with the laser, but a vine ducks away.  You try again, yet again it moves out of the blasts range.

    You back off, and the vine seems to relax some.

    --Intelligence, or simply fight or flight response...?--

    You pause for a second pondering the plant's odd reaction.  You slowly stretch a hand out, and are forced to snatch it back as a rather thick tendril curls out, trying to grab hold of you.  It relaxes as you move away from it's range, leaving it trailing out several decameters from the engines surface.    Quickly you fire three shots, rounding the vine into a pattern where your blast hits it's mark and send the tendril floating off.  You pull the box and activate it, sucking in the sample.  You note that even as it floats into the box, it seems to feed off of the pale bluish light of the tractor beam.

    You quickly return to the ship...   

   

Space: The Windrunner

 

    You re-enter the ship, and shove the box into Nightscream's waiting hands, "Here, take the thing to Sonar and tell him to work on it someplace dark."

    "Why?"  he asks, trying to peer inside.

    "Because we don't want it taking over the ship.  The light makes it grow!"  you snap back.

    Something about it you didn't like, something that was making you edgier than usual.

    "Starshooter, report."  Grizzly-1's voice growls over the intercom.

    "I'll be up as soon as I go through decontam."  you respond stepping into the decontamination unit.

   

    There, the captain was waiting for your report.  Howler was manning the pilots chair, as Sonar was off playing scientist with the sample.  Nightscream followed you in and sat down at the nav.

    "Well?" the thick bear asked.

    "Light makes it spread, and spread rapidly at that.  Sonar is running some test on it as we speak. Hopefully, we'll know how to destroy it soon."

    "Destroy it?"   Nightscream squawked, "Shouldn't we study it first?"

    You answer before Grizzly-1 can,  "They are a threat to us.  They are growing all over the outside of this ship.  We have a war to win, and we cannot take the risk of letting these plants remain.  They must be destroyed so we can move on!"

    You hear a rumble from the captain, "You're out of line, Starshooter."  he reprimands, "It's up to the Admiral to make that call.  Remember that we are NOT the sort of people you are used to dealing with.  Destruction isn't always the answer."

    You grimace, the taste of Maximal logic bitter in your mouth.

    Howler interjects, "The power levels... they're raising again."

    "Raising?" the bear turns, "What of the plants?"

    "There as thick, if not thicker than ever..."

    You look at the computer, "The levels are only raising a microsegment... it could just be mixture fluxuation..."

    "Maybe, or it could mean that the plants aren't so dangerous to begin with!"  interjected Nightscream.

    You give him  a look to wither the bravest Maximal, "Yeah, good ideal, let's just forget it's there..."

    "Starshooter!"  Grizzly-1 barked.

    You turn to him, venom in your eyes.

    The doors to the bridge slid open, and Sonar stepped in...

    "Whoa!" he takes a step back, sensing the tension on the bridge.

    Grizzly turns to him and gives a gruff growl, "Report!"

    "Yessir!  She's right about the plant, it feeds off of various energy wavelengths... but there's more... I've never seen anything like this... It seems to be able to alter it's matrix to accommodate any form of energy!"

    "What?  Explain?"

    "Well, earlier, it was feeding off of the low warp transmissions from the engines... so it didn't have much food, but there was some there... but as soon as we stopped and dropped, it altered it's nature.  It converted and began to feed off of simple light waves... which with our hull lights turning on, there was plenty of!  Not to mention that there's a few billion stars out there to nurture it...  But here's something even weirder. I used nanites to probe it, so I could keep it in containment... Well, it took the nanites, and began to feed off of their power!"

    "What's so weird about that." you snapped.

    "Heh, only that to do it, they began to grow INTO the nanites."

    "What? What the pitt do you mean by that?"

    "Just what I said, they embedded themselves on the nannites.  The nannites powered down pretty quick, but then powered back up... and from what I can tell, they've merged with the plants!"

The Windrunner: Space

   

    You snorted, bringing another glare from Grizzly-1.

    He turned back to the Sonar, "What's in control, the nannites or the plant?"

    "The nannites are operating as they always had... they are still examining and reporting on the plant material that was previously in the module, but at an accelerated pace.  With the information they're gathering... I think I could even rewrite the plants DNA!"

    "Hrm... Interesting."

    You speak out, "Then you can write it to die off?"

    Sonar shrugged, "Yeah, but I have a better idea... what if we used it?  What if we enhanced our own systems with them!"

    You shudder and stand up, "I'm not putting a plant in MY body!!"

    "Whoa... neither am I!  I mean the ship's computers.  They could increase the output of every ship on the fleet, as long as we control it so it won't spread any further... or how about this... I might be able to monopolize on the power drain effects!"

    Grizzly smiles, "Shutting down whatever they hit?"

    "Exactly... and the biomaterial might just flush right through the energy shields that the Con's put in our way!!"

    You sneer, "Great, you want to flight a war with flower power?"

    Grizzly-1 turns on you, anger seething in his eyes...

    Nightscream interrupts, "Sir!  The Soulfire just shut on it's engines!  It's letting them overheat in an attempt to burn off the plants!!!"

    Sonar's mouth drops, "That's a baaaaad idea..."

    The monitor flips to show the white hot engines of the ship, the Soulfire, that sat nestled between the massive bulks of Metroplex and Trypticon.  The two cities seemed to be working on keeping the ship in place while it fired off it's main thrusters.

    Even from the relayed camera's vantage point, you could see the thick vines spring out and spread across the rear of the Soulfire at an alarming pace...

Space:  The Windrunner

 

    "Contact them, NOW!" Grizzly-1 commands.

    "No reply, sir, " Nightscream reports.

    --Now we know what NOT to do...--

    "We need to find out what's happening over there."  Grizzly-1 growls, "Contact the rest of the fleet and find out if they know what's going on."

    Within segments, Nightscream reports back, "They've all lost contact with the Admiral's ship, but Captain Airdive from the Nova has suggested that we each send out a member as part of a rescue crew."

    Grizzly turns right toward you.

    "No."  you mutter.

    "You afraid?"

    You just look at him.

    "Get out there, NOW!"

    You turn and go.

    --No one calls me a coward!--

   

    Outside, you and a large grouping of others floated outside the hull of the Soulfire.  It sat nestled between the massive bulks of the cities Trypticon and Metroplex.   It's red and blue surface a vivid clash with the Transmetallized cities.

    The power systems had returned, and a bot named Retrohopper had told them to hold where they all were... floating in space.

    Then, the message came, "You have been granted permission to board.  Enter through the bay doors, and wait there for the Admiral to address you."

    From here, you could see the engines, where the vines had been only moments ago... but they were gone, sunken into the hull, leaving an odd cast and a greenish tinge to the very metal.  

    You shudder as you board.

    For about five cycles you sat and waited, then the doors above you, on a small entry platform, opened, and out stepped the reddish metallic Admiral Backdraft, as well as a gray green Autobot vehicle of some sort.

    The Admiral  transformed his legs into a hover formation, and lowered himself gracefully in front of the group,  "Cybertronians, the problem seems to be under control, and in fact may prove to be beneficial."

    Various mutterings and disturbed glances are passed about, "Helpful?"  a bot in the crowd asks, "How is being overrun with plants helpful?"

    "Thunderfist, our engineer will fill you in on our findings.  I then want you to await further instructions before returning to your own ships to implement the appropriate plans.  Meanwhile, I would like to talk to the representative from the crew of the Windrunner."

    He immediately spots you, "Starshooter, right?"

    You sulkily part from the crowd and follow him out into the hallway.  You felt like a spoiled school bot going out to meet the principal for some reason.

    "What does the Windrunner have to report?"  the Autobot asked, turning toward a nearby ready room.

    "Personally, I think the plants are a plague, and we should be rid of them immediately." you snap.

    "And what about the sample?"  The two of you entered the room, with it's large ready table.  There was already information on the plants being displayed from a holo-proj in the center of the table.

    "The plant appears to have morphic capabilities, and the ability to assimilate and convert energy as well as technological material.  It... enhances their capabilities on the prelim reports,"  you grumble.

    "That's in sync with our own reports.   Why do you think it should be destroyed."

    "It's not... natural."

    "... it is natural."

    "Not for us, not for Cybertron."

    "Hrm... is there anything else in your ships findings?"

    "It took over the nanites that were probing it, shut them down momentarily, and then rebooted them at increased power levels and transmittal capabilities.   Sonar... our ship engineer,  thinks that he may be able to modify them on a DNA level... control them to be used possibly as a weapon of sorts."

    "What kind of weapon?"

    "He thinks he can amplify their ability to shut down machinery, extending the period and allowing us to give the Warworld a few good hits before it can recover. "

    "So on one side we have the ability to use it to enhance ourselves, on the other the ability to enhance our weapons...  It seems like a win-win situation to me..." 

Space: The Soulfire

 

    You take a deep breath, "Yes, I have realized the power we might gain... but there is something that seems morally... wrong about this!"

    Backdraft looks down at you in surprise, "A Decepticon, bothered by morals?  That's might be something new in the universe..." he says in a chiding voice, a glint of humor in his optics.

    "We do have them, " you reply cooly, "We are not 'monsters' as the ancient propaganda must have had you believe." 

    He sighs, obviously upset that you had taken affront, "I'm sorry... you are right, I shouldn't judge you by the past."  He takes in a breath, "Well, your concern is noted, but if these plants will mean victory, we have no choice but to use them.  I hope you can understand that.  Thank you for the information.  Carry this message back to your science officer, Sonar you said?  Tell him to commence with the applications he has in mind. I'll be damned if I'm also not completely unsure of our newfound 'weapons.'  But we sometimes have to go with what works best, no matter how alien."

    There is a pause as you stare at him.  He is not at all what you expected as a 'great military leader,'  " Aye sir,” you respond, and turn to leave the room.

    You walk off the ship, angry that you had to carry such news back.  Your com crackles as you step into the coldness of space, "Starshooter.  It's Backdraft again, ask Sonar to relay the information to the science officers on all the ships. Backdraft out."

    You fume...

 

    The changes took about a day.  In the interim, each ship was ordered to fire off it's engines in a pulse, allowing the plants to fully merge with the systems.  Warheads were prepared.  Your own ship boasted two of them.  Every ship in the fleet had at least one.  They were DNA altered to allow for an instant growth explosion, causing energy drain.  But the plants themselves would only live for a few cycles before dying off.

    You meanwhile correct your tactical plans to encompass several different scenarios.  Ones that included the plants going awol, or simply not working whatsoever. 

    You didn't know about the other ships, but you didn't plan to trust your destiny to a bunch of rose vines.

    All too soon, the fleet was on the move.  Star charts had shown that this final jump would only take cycles.  You were very near to your home now, but you felt no joy, even after your millennia of absence.

    As the stars blurred around you, you keyed in several tactical movements.  Your ship would drop in closest to the Warworld itself; almost close enough to worry about brushing noses!  The plan was to appear as close as possible, closer than you would dare were the normal shipping lanes to Cybertron open.

    You weren't sure what exactly to expect, but you keyed in everything, no matter how likely it was to be, into your screens.  Overlaid on the normal tactical overhead was now a list of 723 possible scenarios to choose from.

    Cycles seem to stretch into hours, yet at the same time pass in segments.

    Space blurs around you, and you feel anticipation, loathing, hatred, and fear mixed in a morass of emotion as you see realspace appear before you.

    Cybertron glittered brightly below you, a huge globe on the monitor, silver against a velveteen backdrop of darkness.

    It was good to see it, even if it may be your last time.

    You shake off the thought focusing instead on what else hung in the monitors.

    The Warworld sat, bulbulous and bloated above Cybertron's surface, small graphs that were appearing on the viewscreens showed that it was still in synchronous orbit with the planet.

    With it was a collection of Decepticon Warships.

    The time for war was upon you.

End of NWNG: General Statement