Fic! Renewal, Part Six
Preview snippet:
Banachek rubbed at his right temple. "Reg, you really should get checked out. I think you've become way too involved--"
"Nope, I think I'm right where I need to be. Someone had to take the initiative. We've got all this alien tech that we've figured out, why not put it to use? The guys who left it here obviously aren't using it anymore."
"That's not the point. There are regulations and protocols for a reas--"
"Are you okay, Tom?" Reggie's concern sounded genuine. "You look a little stressed out."
Banachek stared at him. He stared right back, his head tilting slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to whatever was truly bothering the other man. Tom sighed. "All right. What else do you know?"
"Not enough to make a judgment yet."
Tom stared at him again, his nostrils flaring. Now Reggie gave him an innocent look in return. "So..." Tom said slowly, "What are you goin' to do next?"
A shrug. "Don't know. Maybe I'll hang out here for a while. I bet you could get some awesome video game graphics on these screens." He gazed around the room again, this time with perfect calm.
"Have you gotten into anything radioactive lately?"
"Only if they changed the bottles at my local sports bar."
I love writing Simmons. XD
Renewal - Part Six
Soundwave allowed himself a triumphant chuckle. He had confirmed the location of the traitorous Thundercracker and discovered that the Autobot's heaviest hitter was not in the field. Ironhide could be found, but not until the time was right. The most useful information was which Autobots to expect to try to stop the current operation. He wondered how they expected to cross the water undetected. They didn't even seem very confident -- Prime was too quiet, letting his desensitized tactician speak for him. Soundwave found Chromia's stance interesting. She had been a highly dangerous factor before, especially given how she had managed to pursue Ratbat despite his efforts to lose her between planets. Seeing that she was not functioning at peak awareness pleased him. She had been the biggest threat to this experiment, but she was sufficiently distracted by her emotions.
He was pleased with his newest little spy. He wondered how the Autobots would try to start the infiltration with Thundercracker and Broadcast. They seemed to have embraced the traitor, repairing him and now upgrading him. He wondered if they would have accepted any turncoat who came crawling over to them.
As for Broadcast, he would step on the noisy scraplet himself. He felt no threat there. That the Autobots had discovered one secret of Megatron's spark did not concern him. Their weak notion of a rescue would be just what he needed to finish resurrecting Megatron and be rid of this organic planet. Its people were preparing to wage war on the Decepticons but they had nominal chance of succeeding. A lack of supplies was the only thing stopping the Constructicons from solving that little oversight.
Besides, let the humans think they had a weapon against their robotic overlords. If Megatron let the planet stand long enough, it would be easy to plant a few suggestions that such tactical knowledge could be used to do something about the other invading robot aliens.
Then there was that fool designated Reginald Simmons. How brazen to think he could sneak on board without Tidal Wave himself noticing. Did it not occur to him that a Cybertronian would register every slight fluctuation in weight upon itself regardless of what mode it was in?
He cycled air out, realizing he needn't bother to spare the processing power. The answer to all was simple: let the Autobots think they were sufficiently covert. Even Falxernian technology would do them little good -- he and Scrapper had cracked that one months ago.
They would destroy the Autobot team coming to the ocean and decimate the two bases at the same time. Even now his third Insecticon was moving in with the necessary force close behind. Broadcast would not be finding this one, this time.
~*~
Simmons stood at rest, whistling quietly while Banachek paced the length of the communications hub floor. The room was still under reconstruction, but what was prepared so far was in scale with Broadcast in mind. There were seats the men could easily fit into, but neither was inclined to sit.
"Stop that," Tom snapped.
"Sorry. Sir." He sniffed and wiped at his nose as if having a sudden itch.
"Don't patronize me, Reggie."
"I'm not. I promise."
Banachek inhaled to speak. "A--" He stopped himself, jaw snapping shut and then he paced away again. When he turned around again he looked like he was holding back a tirade. "Why didn't you report in? Why didn't you tell us about the technology you found? What is wrong with you?!"
Simmons raised an eyebrow. "You're only asking me that last one now? Pfftt, everybody's been wondering about that for years."
"Reginald." Tom scowled. "You know, you're not doin' the Old Man very proud. He'd have plenty to say about your negligence."
"Yeah, poor ol' Dad, gone these ten years. He loved his hobbies, he did."
Tom was shocked. "Besides that he was your father, how could you disrespect the man who did so much for this organization--"
"This one? He wasn't part of ARROW. Did you forget Sector Seven was disbanded? Oh, and why I didn't report in? I didn't want them to find me."
"Them."
"Them." He lowered his voice. "The 'Cons. Wouldn't surprise me if they were monitoring this place, too." Simmons glanced around, paranoia clear on his face.
Banachek rubbed at his right temple. "Reg, you really should get checked out. I think you've become way too involved--"
"Nope, I think I'm right where I need to be. Someone had to take the initiative. We've got all this alien tech that we've figured out, why not put it to use? The guys who left it here obviously aren't using it anymore."
"That's not the point. There are regulations and protocols for a reas--"
"Are you okay, Tom?" Reggie's concern sounded genuine. "You look a little stressed out."
Banachek stared at him. He stared right back, his head tilting slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to whatever was truly bothering the other man. Tom sighed. "All right. What else do you know?"
"Not enough to make a judgement yet."
Tom stared at him again, his nostrils flaring. Now Reggie gave him an innocent look in return. "So..." Tom said slowly, "What are you goin' to do next?"
A shrug. "Don't know. Maybe I'll hang out here for a while. I bet you could get some awesome video game graphics on these screens." He gazed around the room again, this time with perfect calm.
"Have you gotten into anything radioactive lately?"
"Only if they changed the bottles at my local sports bar."
A nerve under Tom's left eye ticked. "Reg, you do what you want for now. I've got real work to do. We'll be payin' you a visit when this is done." He backed toward the door, his eyes on Simmons the entire way. He looked away long enough to hit the button that would open it -- a secondary keypad at Broadcast's height while the door itself was a tall Cybertronian size. Prowl glanced over from where he had been standing guard. Banachek waved him away, heading down the corridor to the main entrance.
Simmons was writing something on a small notepad when the Autobot turned to him. "Looks like a court martial to me," Reggie said, puffing his cheeks out before sighing. He put the notepad away inside his jacket as he walked over to Prowl. "Hey, could I get a lift? I'm going to wait things out here, but, man, it's a long walk to everywhere."
Prowl regarded him in silence as he leaned over with one hand out. As Simmons settled onto the Autobot's palm he drew out another notepad from a different pocket. "Have I told you yet how my father was a very paranoid man in his last few years?"
~*~
A while later, Chromia and Prowl stood together at Teletraan-1 watching the feed from the external cameras that were following the exit of Prime's mixed convoy. Markhail rode with Optimus to get them through clearance areas. Thundercracker was hidden in a trailer hitched to the Autobot leader. Banachek was with Firestar, flying ahead to negotiate the last of the arrangements in person.
Prowl's gaze remained on the screen as he spoke. "Are you ready to head out next, General?"
She grimaced at him. "I am not ready to take that title again just yet."
"But you will."
"Yes. What odds have you calculated?"
"The Ark will be forfeit."
"I calculated the same. It hurts to lose another piece of our home world. I even had hopes it could be made to fly again."
"It is a necessary sacrifice. It is inevitable that they will aim to take us out first, as we are the bigger threat to them than any of the human military installations."
"What I have been unable to compute is how much more must be sacrificed to stop the Decepticons once and for all. We don't have anything else left."
He finally looked over at her. "The line is drawn here."
~*~
Gears grumbled as he picked up a stack of metal rods that had fallen over, his hi-beams reflecting off of each one. Windcharger stood a few feet away from where Huffer was fixing the wiring of a set of blast doors, using his headlights to illuminate the area for the other minibot. What had once been a double corridor had been turned into a narrow tunnel with no lighting whatsoever. The blast doors they were struggling to open had previously covered the entire width of the original corridor; one of the doors was now embedded in the left-hand wall.
Huffer's plan had been to get the right-hand door open and scavenge for more spare parts in the storage bay that should have been behind the doors. He knew that 'should haves' were the rule instead of 'should bes' ever since the Ark had crashed, its mechanisms caught between regular and condensed mode and ruining the ship's layout. There were still areas he had yet to find a way to access.
Windcharger began to rock on his feet, heel to toes, and deleted a comment as Gears knocked over a rod he had just picked up. An electrical spark leapt from the door panel, causing Huffer to draw back. "Hold the light steady, Windcharger." Another rod fell over, followed by harsh words in Cybertronian. Huffer glared again. "Gears! Just leave it! Did you two forget that you're supposed to be helping me?"
"Kinda," Windcharger replied. "I mean, why bother fixing it at this point? Why don't we just blow up the door?"
"Because I don't know if there is another set of doors behind this one. Or if there is intact, delicate equipment directly behind it. Or--"
"Or," Gears interrupted, "A trapped Decepticon."
Huffer stared down at the tools extended from his forearm then peered at the door panel. "That one hadn't occurred to me."
"Well, we could use the practice," Windcharger said glibly. "Since we are like the last line of defense if Optimus' team gets beaten."
"Yeah," Gears snorted. "Great prospect, ain't it? Failure on the part of, oh, everyone."
Huffer suddenly grabbed Windcharger by the shoulders and forced him to stand motionless, headlights again pointed at the door panel. "Why don't we all find out the way I planned it, all right?" He went back to work. Gears crossed his arms and watched.
After about ten minutes of switching out and reconnecting wires, the emergency lights came on. Windcharger cycled air in a relieved sigh and took a single step to the left, drawing another glare from Huffer. He quickly returned to where the engineer had put him. Five minutes later an amber light came on over the panel.
Without needing a further signal Gears moved to where the doors met and grasped the seam, favoring the right-hand door. Huffer closed up the wire access panel and tested the keypad. There was a loud squeal, likely from the left-hand door. The right side slid a scant finger-width away from it. Huffer clenched and unclenched his hands. "Come on, I bypassed that!"
Windcharger glanced at him and shrugged, stepping toward Gears and raising his hands. He bent his fingers in a grasping motion and yanked sideways at thin air. The air above where Gears held the door warped strangely, then the door slid open several more centimeters. Gears wedged his hands in and braced himself against the wall to push while Windcharger magnetically pulled again.
Little by little they were able to move the door until it was nested inside its frame. Huffer peered in first, almost afraid to direct his lights around the room. It was much bigger than he had expected and it contained something he had never expected. His optics grew brighter and he smiled as broadly as his facial mechanisms allowed. "Gentlemen, our luck is changing. The 'Cons won't be expecting an orbital bombardment!"
Windcharger looked suitably impressed as he looked over the displaced but intact scout shuttle, but Gears snorted in disdain. "You're giving this thing's armaments too much credit. Besides, how are we going to get it out of here?"
Huffer smacked his palm to his forehead. "We'll have Chromia blast a passage before she leaves, what do you think? Just shut up and transform." He went up to the small shuttle's entry hatch, glanced it over to make sure it wasn't rigged with something, then opened it and reached inside. After a moment he stepped back and the shuttle's outer panels began to shift around. As with the Ark, the scouting ships could condense, too, this one into a semi-portable rectangular shape. Huffer studied it, glanced at the doorway, then looked back again, and finally looked at Gears. "We'll both have to haul it out. Windcharger, lift it up." He moved over behind Gears and transformed, lowering himself on his shocks so that his bed was about in line with Gears' back platform. Windcharger activated his magnetics again to raise the condensed shuttle and balance it between the jeep and truck.
"All right," Huffer said, "We'll have to take this slow but I can keep pace going backward. Windcharger, spot us."
"Got it." Windcharger waited as they made their way through the narrowed doorway, alert for the smallest of scrapes that could mean the condensed shuttle wouldn't fit. It cleared the doorway just fine. As they moved down the corridor he kept watch for debris -- Gears bumped over one of the fallen rods -- but once their progress was steady he let his processor start to wander.
"Another question, Huffer," Gears piped up, "How do we launch this thing and where do we get the fuel for it?"
"Oh, I'll find a way!"
~*~
After setting up a camouflage field they brought the scout shuttle outside and Huffer proceeded with his intentions to modify it. Moonracer assisted him and was amused by his uncharacteristic good mood. She wished it would spread to Gears, who was also on hand and complaining about it. She made sure to stick closer to Huffer. "You are surely too happy about this thing."
"Are you kidding?" Huffer went about fitting a pipe into a fuel line slot. "Look at it this way: even if only two of us can fit in this, we could go back to one of the more technologically advanced planets and borrow a ship that could carry all of us off this planet! Then we could either return the ship and stay there or find a way to buy the ship and go back to Cybertron."
"Huffer, there isn't much of Cybertron to go back to and you know it. Why don't you want to stay here?"
"It's not Cybertron." He paused and glared at her. "Why are you so quick to settle for this planet?"
"Aside from needing to stop the Decepticons? Optimus thinks we should stay. Besides, aren't you getting ahead of yourself? Do you think any of those other planets will take us in? I know a few of their inhabitants thought of us as a threat."
Huffer pointed a wrench at her. "You know what? I can mod this thing by myself. Go back to prepping the med bay, I'll call you if I need anything."
Gears muscled between them and dropped a crate of spare parts at Huffer's feet. "You're assuming we can get it to fly. These things are designed to be launched in space. There is a little too much gravity here."
"Not when I'm done installing an anti-grav unit." Huffer grinned. "It will help give enough altitude to safely engage the boosters."
Moonracer gaped. "Where did you even find the parts to build something like that?"
"Around."
Gears shook his head. "Sorry, but I think this idea is as reliable as trusting an ex-Decepticon with experimental cloaking technology."
"Nanite technology," Huffer corrected. "It does more than act as a cloaking agent."
"So I've heard. All those tiny receptors scrambling radar detection, broadcasting false signatures, blahblahblah. We still gave it to the wrong mech."
"He'll be the first to be destroyed if it does not work," Huffer replied. "And so will Broadcast...so put a little faith in it."
Gears grumbled unintelligibly again.
Meanwhile, Prowl was watching them from the doorway, running contingency scenarios on top of contingency scenarios if Huffer failed to get the scout shuttle to fly.
~*~
A green hatchback pulled into the parking space next to a black Buick Enclave in the underground parking lot, its driver perhaps unaware that the space was marked reserved and that the compact was garishly out of place amongst the somber vehicles belonging to government officials. The Enclave's owner was leaning against the large, flat aluminum railing that ran the length of the parking structure, his arms folded as he waited.
Epps threw a nod at the hatchback and wasn't surprised when the driver's side door didn't open. The windshield was so darkly tinted he didn't know for sure either way if there was a human being inside or a hologram. After a moment he did see movement behind the glass, then the door opened and a tall, blond-haired young woman in a mismatched pant suit climbed out. She glanced back inside as if forgetting something, then she stepped away and closed the door. She shot a glance at the Enclave, then beckoned to Epps as she moved onto the walkway. He leaned off the railing and fell into step beside her. "Ms. Madsen. How goes it?"
"Nowhere fast," she muttered. She cast a furtive look back to the two cars while increasing her pace toward a door at the end of the sidewalk. Once there she keyed in the code to open it. Bobby took the handle then followed her inside. Maggie moved so he could enter but she stopped at the bottom step of the two tiered stairwell. He eyed her curiously. She studied her watch, tapping the side of it, then looked over at him. "I think 'Latch is angry. He hasn't said a word to me all morning. Usually we talk tech if there's anything official we want to put off, but he's not himself. How is Trailbreaker acting?"
"Quiet, too. I think he'd rather be where the fight is. Maybe Rattlelatch is feelin' the same."
She made a doubtful face. "I don't know. He doesn't like to fight. I almost wonder if he's afraid of being the last line of defense. Not that I expect him to have so little faith in our ability to fight the Deceptcons, but if I was in his shoes the thought would definitely cross my mind."
Epps nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I know ARROW can pack a punch if they want to. I've been doin' more paperwork than anything lately but I'll be first in line for a weapon if they call us to action."
Just then the door at the top of the stairwell opened. They both looked up and were surprised to see Secretary Keller himself. Without preamble he gestured for them to come up. "Come with me. We have a situation."
Bobby fixed his tie as he took the stairs two at a time, sparing a glance at the camera in the corner. Maggie followed after, remembering the last time Keller had come personally looking for her. The three of them headed into the main hallway off the parking lot, Keller setting a brisk pace further into the building. They stopped at a door requiring his clearance. Maggie felt her heart jump in anticipation; this was going to be something very interesting.
Two men were already seated in the room. One had on a suit with a badge proclaiming him part of Bobby's division. The other looked out of place in jeans and a striped polo.
Maggie gaped. "Glen? Why are--"
"Later, please," Keller interrupted. "Please be seated." While he remained standing, a large screen flickered on at the front of the room. A ticker at the bottom denoted the time of the video feed and a location: Autobot Ark. Maggie's eyebrows rose. She probably shouldn't have been surprised by that, but she definitely did not expect to see Simmons' face appear next after all she had heard about him lately.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Great to see we've got a class reunion going on. Going to be as fun as our first meeting, actually, as long as no one else threatens me at gunpoint."
Keller folded his arms, all the gesture he needed to make for Simmons to get to the point.
"On to business. I have pertinent news that requires some action from each of you, especially the...information gathering specialists. Lady and gentlemen, it's on us to save the world again."
~*~
Not long after hitting the road toward Autobase with Red Alert in the lead should a 'police escort' become necessary, Chromia dialed the call to Lennox's wife. Her internal frequency and display connected to the webcam and she was able to see a blond-haired woman while projecting an image of her own robotic face, skipping the need for her human hologram. "Greetings, Sarah Lennox."
"Hello, Mrs. Arcstrom. Will told me you'd be calling this afternoon. I'm glad to finally get to talk to you. I've only heard about you from Will and Mr. Arcstrom."
"Please, call me Chromia. I have ensured the security of this line."
"As long as you call me Sarah. What can I do for you?"
"I wish to talk."
Sarah's expression filled with curiosity when the Autobot didn't immediately elaborate. "I'm all ears," she prompted.
"I have... done some studies and Ironhide has told me of how human relationships like the one you share with Will work."
Oh dear, Sarah thought. This might get awkward. She couldn't help feeling amused, but tried not to show it outwardly.
"I wanted to ask..." Chromia went silent again for a long moment before continuing, "In your experience, how do you deal with the separation?"
Sarah was puzzled by the question. "I thought you and Ironhide were apart for thousands of years? I'm not sure I can really compare with that."
Chromia calculated the relevance of age and distance. "How do you feel when your husband is stationed on the other side of the planet? He sees the same sky that you do."
The words were blunt rather than poetic. Sarah felt compelled to answer earnestly. "I feel worried." Her tone was somber as a reason for the question came to her. "I get anxious waiting for his next call or email."
"Thus, how do you deal with it?"
"I tell myself he's fine. He's doing his job and I need to do mine. But there are times when I'll... look up at the sky and wonder what he's looking at."
Chromia's image gave the impression of her optics dimming. "Doing his job... Yes, that is it. Ironhide was not sent on a mission nor does his reason for going on leave have any bearing on his function here."
Sarah picked through the choice of phrasing. "So, do you see it as he was being selfish by going on leave?"
"He has earned the leave, certainly, but he did not need to go off as he did. His health is as would be expected, and I did not ask anything of him, especially not this, so I see no logical reason for him to have done so."
"I see this has become an upsetting situation for you," Sarah ventured. The Autobot's tone was analytical yet she had a feeling there was an underlying frustration.
Chromia gave pause, then her image nodded, optics dimming. "The distance, no. We could have ended up on separate missions even if he had stayed. It is just that it was unnecessary for him to leave. Ratchet might have been able to do some repairs, bypass something to avoid further scarring, and the existing damage would not have impeded Ironhide's function as a warrior--"
"Chromia, I'm sorry, but I don't follow. Is Ironhide sick? I know about some of his injuries but I didn't know any were still life threatening."
The Autobot's image contorted into a pleading look, surprising her. "Sarah Lennox, I need assistance with perspective. Ironhide and I are bonded but I fear I do not understand him right now."
Sarah offered a look of sympathy. "On that I can relate. Human men can be inexplicable sometimes. If you can, tell me more -- you said the line was secure and I know how important secrecy is."
"He wants to heal his spark -- it is scarred by wounds and by battle itself. We do not know if it is even possible to remove spark scars. They do not hinder life -- I have many on my own, and I have no urge to find a way to repair them. I can function. There is no evidence, nothing that I can feel from him, that proves they hinder him, either."
"Is there any other reason he would want to try to heal it?" She tried to imagine not just what a spark looked like but how it could exhibit scars, given how Ironhide's physical blemishes looked. That brought to mind that the sparks were physical and not just a metaphor for a soul. She could ask more about that subject later, though. Now she was concerned that Chromia wasn't answering, her image merely staring emptily back at her. A new thought occurred to her. "You're afraid for him, aren't you?"
The image's optics dimmed again. "I worry he will fail, and I worry about the impact on him. He would not be diminished in my view, but I do not know how he will view himself. He has never been one to dwell on such things. I do not know why this singular matter became urgent."
"That brings it back to my first question -- could there be some other reason for it besides what he'd usually give for doing things?" Sarah tried to decide if there was some business Chromia simply didn't want to share. "Even if there is, it's okay to worry, Chromia. He's a soldier and it's in them to be tough and strong, but sometimes they have things that only they can deal with."
"I myself am a soldier," Chromia replied quietly. "And you are right... There are things, 'demons' as you humans would call it, and other types of factors, that come to be. For now it seems all I can do is hope that he succeeds and does not return any worse for it."
"I'm sorry I can't help you more, Chromia. If you want to talk again when he gets back, I'll listen."
"Thank you. I must go now. Good bye, Sarah."
Sarah gazed at the screen after the webcam connection closed. She resisted the urge to go to the phone and call her husband.
~*~
Skywarp was annoyed. First he had flown circles around the same boring section of ocean, then he was sent across a continent. He was only halfway through that journey now and it might not have been so bad if he was alone. Then he could have taken whichever detours he wanted to. No, instead he had a cockpit full of miniature morons. He was going to kill Soundwave.
His consolation was that by the time this mission was over he would no longer have to take orders from Soundwave. Maybe Megatron would even choose new officers. Skywarp figured he had a chance at Lieutenant Air Commander with Starscream out of the way. He hoped Starscream stayed lost in space.
"Yeah, you really lucked out, didn'tcha, 'Warpie?" Rumble crowed from the pilot seat, somehow fitting beside Frenzy without the two fighting. Ravage was curled up along the top of the seat and Ratbat was crammed in front of it, barely fitting if not for his slimmed down repairs. They weren't happy, either.
"And why am I so lucky?"
"We might let you in on a secret."
His internal camera picked up on Rumble and Frenzy looking at each other and snickering. This couldn't be good. "What secret?"
Frenzy answered, "We have a plan."
"Hey, the freak speaks!" Skywarp laughed.
"SHUT UP!!" Frenzy hissed, digging his fingers into the seat. "You have no idea who you're dealing with! I have touched the Allspark!"
"No, you haven't. You were built from the late Frenzy's specs!" The jet waited a moment then cracked up.
"Shut up!" Frenzy screeched.
"Rumble," Skywarp said, still chuckling, "You listened to him? He's crazy!"
"No. He's the man with the plan," Rumble corrected. "But if you don't want in..."
"What could you scraplets have come up with that would be any better than this mission? And do you expect to get away with something under Soundwave's ever-vigilant monitoring? If so, you're both crazier than I thought."
"Aww, Frenzy, he don't want in." Rumble feigned a disappointed tone.
"I don't want to end up dead. We have work to do to support Megatron's return. We shouldn't do anything other than what we're told to do."
"Skywarp, you're borin'." Rumble slumped in the seat. "You won't even play along." Frenzy, meanwhile, had all of his optics narrowed. He elbowed Rumble with two arms. "Your loss, 'Warpie."
"Quiet," Ratbat hissed. "All of you." He reached up and grasped Rumble and Frenzy by the head in either hand. "What are you two instigating? What are you trying to prove? You are disposable. You cannot undermine what is in motion for your own gains. You should not have any ambition anyway. We all act for the glory of Megatron and the Decepticon empire."
Frenzy uttered an angry digitized squeal. "Oh yesss, Ratbat, as if you have no plans of your own!"
"Yeah," Rumble chimed in. "You been awful sulky since you got your skidplate handed to you by that femme."
Ratbat's claws tightened. Frenzy screeched.
Skywarp pulled up and looped upward. "You scraplets better settle down. I might pop the hatch by accident, and you'll have to wait for Soundwave to come out and scrape you off the ground."
"Oh, an' you say we're bein' conspiramatorial," Rumble scoffed. "Lookit you, threatenin' ta dump us!"
Skywarp grumbled to himself. What were these scraplets up to?
Then Ravage let out a snarl. "You all need a lesson in patience. Focus on the mission. Unless you have something to add in way of tactics, be silent."
Skywarp flew higher and boosted his afterburners. Huh. The cat can talk.
To Be Continued
Banachek rubbed at his right temple. "Reg, you really should get checked out. I think you've become way too involved--"
"Nope, I think I'm right where I need to be. Someone had to take the initiative. We've got all this alien tech that we've figured out, why not put it to use? The guys who left it here obviously aren't using it anymore."
"That's not the point. There are regulations and protocols for a reas--"
"Are you okay, Tom?" Reggie's concern sounded genuine. "You look a little stressed out."
Banachek stared at him. He stared right back, his head tilting slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to whatever was truly bothering the other man. Tom sighed. "All right. What else do you know?"
"Not enough to make a judgment yet."
Tom stared at him again, his nostrils flaring. Now Reggie gave him an innocent look in return. "So..." Tom said slowly, "What are you goin' to do next?"
A shrug. "Don't know. Maybe I'll hang out here for a while. I bet you could get some awesome video game graphics on these screens." He gazed around the room again, this time with perfect calm.
"Have you gotten into anything radioactive lately?"
"Only if they changed the bottles at my local sports bar."
I love writing Simmons. XD
Renewal - Part Six
Soundwave allowed himself a triumphant chuckle. He had confirmed the location of the traitorous Thundercracker and discovered that the Autobot's heaviest hitter was not in the field. Ironhide could be found, but not until the time was right. The most useful information was which Autobots to expect to try to stop the current operation. He wondered how they expected to cross the water undetected. They didn't even seem very confident -- Prime was too quiet, letting his desensitized tactician speak for him. Soundwave found Chromia's stance interesting. She had been a highly dangerous factor before, especially given how she had managed to pursue Ratbat despite his efforts to lose her between planets. Seeing that she was not functioning at peak awareness pleased him. She had been the biggest threat to this experiment, but she was sufficiently distracted by her emotions.
He was pleased with his newest little spy. He wondered how the Autobots would try to start the infiltration with Thundercracker and Broadcast. They seemed to have embraced the traitor, repairing him and now upgrading him. He wondered if they would have accepted any turncoat who came crawling over to them.
As for Broadcast, he would step on the noisy scraplet himself. He felt no threat there. That the Autobots had discovered one secret of Megatron's spark did not concern him. Their weak notion of a rescue would be just what he needed to finish resurrecting Megatron and be rid of this organic planet. Its people were preparing to wage war on the Decepticons but they had nominal chance of succeeding. A lack of supplies was the only thing stopping the Constructicons from solving that little oversight.
Besides, let the humans think they had a weapon against their robotic overlords. If Megatron let the planet stand long enough, it would be easy to plant a few suggestions that such tactical knowledge could be used to do something about the other invading robot aliens.
Then there was that fool designated Reginald Simmons. How brazen to think he could sneak on board without Tidal Wave himself noticing. Did it not occur to him that a Cybertronian would register every slight fluctuation in weight upon itself regardless of what mode it was in?
He cycled air out, realizing he needn't bother to spare the processing power. The answer to all was simple: let the Autobots think they were sufficiently covert. Even Falxernian technology would do them little good -- he and Scrapper had cracked that one months ago.
They would destroy the Autobot team coming to the ocean and decimate the two bases at the same time. Even now his third Insecticon was moving in with the necessary force close behind. Broadcast would not be finding this one, this time.
~*~
Simmons stood at rest, whistling quietly while Banachek paced the length of the communications hub floor. The room was still under reconstruction, but what was prepared so far was in scale with Broadcast in mind. There were seats the men could easily fit into, but neither was inclined to sit.
"Stop that," Tom snapped.
"Sorry. Sir." He sniffed and wiped at his nose as if having a sudden itch.
"Don't patronize me, Reggie."
"I'm not. I promise."
Banachek inhaled to speak. "A--" He stopped himself, jaw snapping shut and then he paced away again. When he turned around again he looked like he was holding back a tirade. "Why didn't you report in? Why didn't you tell us about the technology you found? What is wrong with you?!"
Simmons raised an eyebrow. "You're only asking me that last one now? Pfftt, everybody's been wondering about that for years."
"Reginald." Tom scowled. "You know, you're not doin' the Old Man very proud. He'd have plenty to say about your negligence."
"Yeah, poor ol' Dad, gone these ten years. He loved his hobbies, he did."
Tom was shocked. "Besides that he was your father, how could you disrespect the man who did so much for this organization--"
"This one? He wasn't part of ARROW. Did you forget Sector Seven was disbanded? Oh, and why I didn't report in? I didn't want them to find me."
"Them."
"Them." He lowered his voice. "The 'Cons. Wouldn't surprise me if they were monitoring this place, too." Simmons glanced around, paranoia clear on his face.
Banachek rubbed at his right temple. "Reg, you really should get checked out. I think you've become way too involved--"
"Nope, I think I'm right where I need to be. Someone had to take the initiative. We've got all this alien tech that we've figured out, why not put it to use? The guys who left it here obviously aren't using it anymore."
"That's not the point. There are regulations and protocols for a reas--"
"Are you okay, Tom?" Reggie's concern sounded genuine. "You look a little stressed out."
Banachek stared at him. He stared right back, his head tilting slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to whatever was truly bothering the other man. Tom sighed. "All right. What else do you know?"
"Not enough to make a judgement yet."
Tom stared at him again, his nostrils flaring. Now Reggie gave him an innocent look in return. "So..." Tom said slowly, "What are you goin' to do next?"
A shrug. "Don't know. Maybe I'll hang out here for a while. I bet you could get some awesome video game graphics on these screens." He gazed around the room again, this time with perfect calm.
"Have you gotten into anything radioactive lately?"
"Only if they changed the bottles at my local sports bar."
A nerve under Tom's left eye ticked. "Reg, you do what you want for now. I've got real work to do. We'll be payin' you a visit when this is done." He backed toward the door, his eyes on Simmons the entire way. He looked away long enough to hit the button that would open it -- a secondary keypad at Broadcast's height while the door itself was a tall Cybertronian size. Prowl glanced over from where he had been standing guard. Banachek waved him away, heading down the corridor to the main entrance.
Simmons was writing something on a small notepad when the Autobot turned to him. "Looks like a court martial to me," Reggie said, puffing his cheeks out before sighing. He put the notepad away inside his jacket as he walked over to Prowl. "Hey, could I get a lift? I'm going to wait things out here, but, man, it's a long walk to everywhere."
Prowl regarded him in silence as he leaned over with one hand out. As Simmons settled onto the Autobot's palm he drew out another notepad from a different pocket. "Have I told you yet how my father was a very paranoid man in his last few years?"
~*~
A while later, Chromia and Prowl stood together at Teletraan-1 watching the feed from the external cameras that were following the exit of Prime's mixed convoy. Markhail rode with Optimus to get them through clearance areas. Thundercracker was hidden in a trailer hitched to the Autobot leader. Banachek was with Firestar, flying ahead to negotiate the last of the arrangements in person.
Prowl's gaze remained on the screen as he spoke. "Are you ready to head out next, General?"
She grimaced at him. "I am not ready to take that title again just yet."
"But you will."
"Yes. What odds have you calculated?"
"The Ark will be forfeit."
"I calculated the same. It hurts to lose another piece of our home world. I even had hopes it could be made to fly again."
"It is a necessary sacrifice. It is inevitable that they will aim to take us out first, as we are the bigger threat to them than any of the human military installations."
"What I have been unable to compute is how much more must be sacrificed to stop the Decepticons once and for all. We don't have anything else left."
He finally looked over at her. "The line is drawn here."
~*~
Gears grumbled as he picked up a stack of metal rods that had fallen over, his hi-beams reflecting off of each one. Windcharger stood a few feet away from where Huffer was fixing the wiring of a set of blast doors, using his headlights to illuminate the area for the other minibot. What had once been a double corridor had been turned into a narrow tunnel with no lighting whatsoever. The blast doors they were struggling to open had previously covered the entire width of the original corridor; one of the doors was now embedded in the left-hand wall.
Huffer's plan had been to get the right-hand door open and scavenge for more spare parts in the storage bay that should have been behind the doors. He knew that 'should haves' were the rule instead of 'should bes' ever since the Ark had crashed, its mechanisms caught between regular and condensed mode and ruining the ship's layout. There were still areas he had yet to find a way to access.
Windcharger began to rock on his feet, heel to toes, and deleted a comment as Gears knocked over a rod he had just picked up. An electrical spark leapt from the door panel, causing Huffer to draw back. "Hold the light steady, Windcharger." Another rod fell over, followed by harsh words in Cybertronian. Huffer glared again. "Gears! Just leave it! Did you two forget that you're supposed to be helping me?"
"Kinda," Windcharger replied. "I mean, why bother fixing it at this point? Why don't we just blow up the door?"
"Because I don't know if there is another set of doors behind this one. Or if there is intact, delicate equipment directly behind it. Or--"
"Or," Gears interrupted, "A trapped Decepticon."
Huffer stared down at the tools extended from his forearm then peered at the door panel. "That one hadn't occurred to me."
"Well, we could use the practice," Windcharger said glibly. "Since we are like the last line of defense if Optimus' team gets beaten."
"Yeah," Gears snorted. "Great prospect, ain't it? Failure on the part of, oh, everyone."
Huffer suddenly grabbed Windcharger by the shoulders and forced him to stand motionless, headlights again pointed at the door panel. "Why don't we all find out the way I planned it, all right?" He went back to work. Gears crossed his arms and watched.
After about ten minutes of switching out and reconnecting wires, the emergency lights came on. Windcharger cycled air in a relieved sigh and took a single step to the left, drawing another glare from Huffer. He quickly returned to where the engineer had put him. Five minutes later an amber light came on over the panel.
Without needing a further signal Gears moved to where the doors met and grasped the seam, favoring the right-hand door. Huffer closed up the wire access panel and tested the keypad. There was a loud squeal, likely from the left-hand door. The right side slid a scant finger-width away from it. Huffer clenched and unclenched his hands. "Come on, I bypassed that!"
Windcharger glanced at him and shrugged, stepping toward Gears and raising his hands. He bent his fingers in a grasping motion and yanked sideways at thin air. The air above where Gears held the door warped strangely, then the door slid open several more centimeters. Gears wedged his hands in and braced himself against the wall to push while Windcharger magnetically pulled again.
Little by little they were able to move the door until it was nested inside its frame. Huffer peered in first, almost afraid to direct his lights around the room. It was much bigger than he had expected and it contained something he had never expected. His optics grew brighter and he smiled as broadly as his facial mechanisms allowed. "Gentlemen, our luck is changing. The 'Cons won't be expecting an orbital bombardment!"
Windcharger looked suitably impressed as he looked over the displaced but intact scout shuttle, but Gears snorted in disdain. "You're giving this thing's armaments too much credit. Besides, how are we going to get it out of here?"
Huffer smacked his palm to his forehead. "We'll have Chromia blast a passage before she leaves, what do you think? Just shut up and transform." He went up to the small shuttle's entry hatch, glanced it over to make sure it wasn't rigged with something, then opened it and reached inside. After a moment he stepped back and the shuttle's outer panels began to shift around. As with the Ark, the scouting ships could condense, too, this one into a semi-portable rectangular shape. Huffer studied it, glanced at the doorway, then looked back again, and finally looked at Gears. "We'll both have to haul it out. Windcharger, lift it up." He moved over behind Gears and transformed, lowering himself on his shocks so that his bed was about in line with Gears' back platform. Windcharger activated his magnetics again to raise the condensed shuttle and balance it between the jeep and truck.
"All right," Huffer said, "We'll have to take this slow but I can keep pace going backward. Windcharger, spot us."
"Got it." Windcharger waited as they made their way through the narrowed doorway, alert for the smallest of scrapes that could mean the condensed shuttle wouldn't fit. It cleared the doorway just fine. As they moved down the corridor he kept watch for debris -- Gears bumped over one of the fallen rods -- but once their progress was steady he let his processor start to wander.
"Another question, Huffer," Gears piped up, "How do we launch this thing and where do we get the fuel for it?"
"Oh, I'll find a way!"
~*~
After setting up a camouflage field they brought the scout shuttle outside and Huffer proceeded with his intentions to modify it. Moonracer assisted him and was amused by his uncharacteristic good mood. She wished it would spread to Gears, who was also on hand and complaining about it. She made sure to stick closer to Huffer. "You are surely too happy about this thing."
"Are you kidding?" Huffer went about fitting a pipe into a fuel line slot. "Look at it this way: even if only two of us can fit in this, we could go back to one of the more technologically advanced planets and borrow a ship that could carry all of us off this planet! Then we could either return the ship and stay there or find a way to buy the ship and go back to Cybertron."
"Huffer, there isn't much of Cybertron to go back to and you know it. Why don't you want to stay here?"
"It's not Cybertron." He paused and glared at her. "Why are you so quick to settle for this planet?"
"Aside from needing to stop the Decepticons? Optimus thinks we should stay. Besides, aren't you getting ahead of yourself? Do you think any of those other planets will take us in? I know a few of their inhabitants thought of us as a threat."
Huffer pointed a wrench at her. "You know what? I can mod this thing by myself. Go back to prepping the med bay, I'll call you if I need anything."
Gears muscled between them and dropped a crate of spare parts at Huffer's feet. "You're assuming we can get it to fly. These things are designed to be launched in space. There is a little too much gravity here."
"Not when I'm done installing an anti-grav unit." Huffer grinned. "It will help give enough altitude to safely engage the boosters."
Moonracer gaped. "Where did you even find the parts to build something like that?"
"Around."
Gears shook his head. "Sorry, but I think this idea is as reliable as trusting an ex-Decepticon with experimental cloaking technology."
"Nanite technology," Huffer corrected. "It does more than act as a cloaking agent."
"So I've heard. All those tiny receptors scrambling radar detection, broadcasting false signatures, blahblahblah. We still gave it to the wrong mech."
"He'll be the first to be destroyed if it does not work," Huffer replied. "And so will Broadcast...so put a little faith in it."
Gears grumbled unintelligibly again.
Meanwhile, Prowl was watching them from the doorway, running contingency scenarios on top of contingency scenarios if Huffer failed to get the scout shuttle to fly.
~*~
A green hatchback pulled into the parking space next to a black Buick Enclave in the underground parking lot, its driver perhaps unaware that the space was marked reserved and that the compact was garishly out of place amongst the somber vehicles belonging to government officials. The Enclave's owner was leaning against the large, flat aluminum railing that ran the length of the parking structure, his arms folded as he waited.
Epps threw a nod at the hatchback and wasn't surprised when the driver's side door didn't open. The windshield was so darkly tinted he didn't know for sure either way if there was a human being inside or a hologram. After a moment he did see movement behind the glass, then the door opened and a tall, blond-haired young woman in a mismatched pant suit climbed out. She glanced back inside as if forgetting something, then she stepped away and closed the door. She shot a glance at the Enclave, then beckoned to Epps as she moved onto the walkway. He leaned off the railing and fell into step beside her. "Ms. Madsen. How goes it?"
"Nowhere fast," she muttered. She cast a furtive look back to the two cars while increasing her pace toward a door at the end of the sidewalk. Once there she keyed in the code to open it. Bobby took the handle then followed her inside. Maggie moved so he could enter but she stopped at the bottom step of the two tiered stairwell. He eyed her curiously. She studied her watch, tapping the side of it, then looked over at him. "I think 'Latch is angry. He hasn't said a word to me all morning. Usually we talk tech if there's anything official we want to put off, but he's not himself. How is Trailbreaker acting?"
"Quiet, too. I think he'd rather be where the fight is. Maybe Rattlelatch is feelin' the same."
She made a doubtful face. "I don't know. He doesn't like to fight. I almost wonder if he's afraid of being the last line of defense. Not that I expect him to have so little faith in our ability to fight the Deceptcons, but if I was in his shoes the thought would definitely cross my mind."
Epps nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I know ARROW can pack a punch if they want to. I've been doin' more paperwork than anything lately but I'll be first in line for a weapon if they call us to action."
Just then the door at the top of the stairwell opened. They both looked up and were surprised to see Secretary Keller himself. Without preamble he gestured for them to come up. "Come with me. We have a situation."
Bobby fixed his tie as he took the stairs two at a time, sparing a glance at the camera in the corner. Maggie followed after, remembering the last time Keller had come personally looking for her. The three of them headed into the main hallway off the parking lot, Keller setting a brisk pace further into the building. They stopped at a door requiring his clearance. Maggie felt her heart jump in anticipation; this was going to be something very interesting.
Two men were already seated in the room. One had on a suit with a badge proclaiming him part of Bobby's division. The other looked out of place in jeans and a striped polo.
Maggie gaped. "Glen? Why are--"
"Later, please," Keller interrupted. "Please be seated." While he remained standing, a large screen flickered on at the front of the room. A ticker at the bottom denoted the time of the video feed and a location: Autobot Ark. Maggie's eyebrows rose. She probably shouldn't have been surprised by that, but she definitely did not expect to see Simmons' face appear next after all she had heard about him lately.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Great to see we've got a class reunion going on. Going to be as fun as our first meeting, actually, as long as no one else threatens me at gunpoint."
Keller folded his arms, all the gesture he needed to make for Simmons to get to the point.
"On to business. I have pertinent news that requires some action from each of you, especially the...information gathering specialists. Lady and gentlemen, it's on us to save the world again."
~*~
Not long after hitting the road toward Autobase with Red Alert in the lead should a 'police escort' become necessary, Chromia dialed the call to Lennox's wife. Her internal frequency and display connected to the webcam and she was able to see a blond-haired woman while projecting an image of her own robotic face, skipping the need for her human hologram. "Greetings, Sarah Lennox."
"Hello, Mrs. Arcstrom. Will told me you'd be calling this afternoon. I'm glad to finally get to talk to you. I've only heard about you from Will and Mr. Arcstrom."
"Please, call me Chromia. I have ensured the security of this line."
"As long as you call me Sarah. What can I do for you?"
"I wish to talk."
Sarah's expression filled with curiosity when the Autobot didn't immediately elaborate. "I'm all ears," she prompted.
"I have... done some studies and Ironhide has told me of how human relationships like the one you share with Will work."
Oh dear, Sarah thought. This might get awkward. She couldn't help feeling amused, but tried not to show it outwardly.
"I wanted to ask..." Chromia went silent again for a long moment before continuing, "In your experience, how do you deal with the separation?"
Sarah was puzzled by the question. "I thought you and Ironhide were apart for thousands of years? I'm not sure I can really compare with that."
Chromia calculated the relevance of age and distance. "How do you feel when your husband is stationed on the other side of the planet? He sees the same sky that you do."
The words were blunt rather than poetic. Sarah felt compelled to answer earnestly. "I feel worried." Her tone was somber as a reason for the question came to her. "I get anxious waiting for his next call or email."
"Thus, how do you deal with it?"
"I tell myself he's fine. He's doing his job and I need to do mine. But there are times when I'll... look up at the sky and wonder what he's looking at."
Chromia's image gave the impression of her optics dimming. "Doing his job... Yes, that is it. Ironhide was not sent on a mission nor does his reason for going on leave have any bearing on his function here."
Sarah picked through the choice of phrasing. "So, do you see it as he was being selfish by going on leave?"
"He has earned the leave, certainly, but he did not need to go off as he did. His health is as would be expected, and I did not ask anything of him, especially not this, so I see no logical reason for him to have done so."
"I see this has become an upsetting situation for you," Sarah ventured. The Autobot's tone was analytical yet she had a feeling there was an underlying frustration.
Chromia gave pause, then her image nodded, optics dimming. "The distance, no. We could have ended up on separate missions even if he had stayed. It is just that it was unnecessary for him to leave. Ratchet might have been able to do some repairs, bypass something to avoid further scarring, and the existing damage would not have impeded Ironhide's function as a warrior--"
"Chromia, I'm sorry, but I don't follow. Is Ironhide sick? I know about some of his injuries but I didn't know any were still life threatening."
The Autobot's image contorted into a pleading look, surprising her. "Sarah Lennox, I need assistance with perspective. Ironhide and I are bonded but I fear I do not understand him right now."
Sarah offered a look of sympathy. "On that I can relate. Human men can be inexplicable sometimes. If you can, tell me more -- you said the line was secure and I know how important secrecy is."
"He wants to heal his spark -- it is scarred by wounds and by battle itself. We do not know if it is even possible to remove spark scars. They do not hinder life -- I have many on my own, and I have no urge to find a way to repair them. I can function. There is no evidence, nothing that I can feel from him, that proves they hinder him, either."
"Is there any other reason he would want to try to heal it?" She tried to imagine not just what a spark looked like but how it could exhibit scars, given how Ironhide's physical blemishes looked. That brought to mind that the sparks were physical and not just a metaphor for a soul. She could ask more about that subject later, though. Now she was concerned that Chromia wasn't answering, her image merely staring emptily back at her. A new thought occurred to her. "You're afraid for him, aren't you?"
The image's optics dimmed again. "I worry he will fail, and I worry about the impact on him. He would not be diminished in my view, but I do not know how he will view himself. He has never been one to dwell on such things. I do not know why this singular matter became urgent."
"That brings it back to my first question -- could there be some other reason for it besides what he'd usually give for doing things?" Sarah tried to decide if there was some business Chromia simply didn't want to share. "Even if there is, it's okay to worry, Chromia. He's a soldier and it's in them to be tough and strong, but sometimes they have things that only they can deal with."
"I myself am a soldier," Chromia replied quietly. "And you are right... There are things, 'demons' as you humans would call it, and other types of factors, that come to be. For now it seems all I can do is hope that he succeeds and does not return any worse for it."
"I'm sorry I can't help you more, Chromia. If you want to talk again when he gets back, I'll listen."
"Thank you. I must go now. Good bye, Sarah."
Sarah gazed at the screen after the webcam connection closed. She resisted the urge to go to the phone and call her husband.
~*~
Skywarp was annoyed. First he had flown circles around the same boring section of ocean, then he was sent across a continent. He was only halfway through that journey now and it might not have been so bad if he was alone. Then he could have taken whichever detours he wanted to. No, instead he had a cockpit full of miniature morons. He was going to kill Soundwave.
His consolation was that by the time this mission was over he would no longer have to take orders from Soundwave. Maybe Megatron would even choose new officers. Skywarp figured he had a chance at Lieutenant Air Commander with Starscream out of the way. He hoped Starscream stayed lost in space.
"Yeah, you really lucked out, didn'tcha, 'Warpie?" Rumble crowed from the pilot seat, somehow fitting beside Frenzy without the two fighting. Ravage was curled up along the top of the seat and Ratbat was crammed in front of it, barely fitting if not for his slimmed down repairs. They weren't happy, either.
"And why am I so lucky?"
"We might let you in on a secret."
His internal camera picked up on Rumble and Frenzy looking at each other and snickering. This couldn't be good. "What secret?"
Frenzy answered, "We have a plan."
"Hey, the freak speaks!" Skywarp laughed.
"SHUT UP!!" Frenzy hissed, digging his fingers into the seat. "You have no idea who you're dealing with! I have touched the Allspark!"
"No, you haven't. You were built from the late Frenzy's specs!" The jet waited a moment then cracked up.
"Shut up!" Frenzy screeched.
"Rumble," Skywarp said, still chuckling, "You listened to him? He's crazy!"
"No. He's the man with the plan," Rumble corrected. "But if you don't want in..."
"What could you scraplets have come up with that would be any better than this mission? And do you expect to get away with something under Soundwave's ever-vigilant monitoring? If so, you're both crazier than I thought."
"Aww, Frenzy, he don't want in." Rumble feigned a disappointed tone.
"I don't want to end up dead. We have work to do to support Megatron's return. We shouldn't do anything other than what we're told to do."
"Skywarp, you're borin'." Rumble slumped in the seat. "You won't even play along." Frenzy, meanwhile, had all of his optics narrowed. He elbowed Rumble with two arms. "Your loss, 'Warpie."
"Quiet," Ratbat hissed. "All of you." He reached up and grasped Rumble and Frenzy by the head in either hand. "What are you two instigating? What are you trying to prove? You are disposable. You cannot undermine what is in motion for your own gains. You should not have any ambition anyway. We all act for the glory of Megatron and the Decepticon empire."
Frenzy uttered an angry digitized squeal. "Oh yesss, Ratbat, as if you have no plans of your own!"
"Yeah," Rumble chimed in. "You been awful sulky since you got your skidplate handed to you by that femme."
Ratbat's claws tightened. Frenzy screeched.
Skywarp pulled up and looped upward. "You scraplets better settle down. I might pop the hatch by accident, and you'll have to wait for Soundwave to come out and scrape you off the ground."
"Oh, an' you say we're bein' conspiramatorial," Rumble scoffed. "Lookit you, threatenin' ta dump us!"
Skywarp grumbled to himself. What were these scraplets up to?
Then Ravage let out a snarl. "You all need a lesson in patience. Focus on the mission. Unless you have something to add in way of tactics, be silent."
Skywarp flew higher and boosted his afterburners. Huh. The cat can talk.
To Be Continued