Danger Looms
[TF:Averse] When Mirage, Ratchet, Tracks and Hound are captured by Lockdown things are bad enough. But when Soundwave comes into the picture, things soon go from bad to worse...
Transformers (c) Hasbro
Characters: Mirage, Hound, Ratchet, Tracks, Soundwave, Strika, Lockdown, Quintesson
- - - - -
Hound gave a low growl, angrily struggling against the restraints holding him prone on the berth.
“Don’t waste your strength kid” the gravelly voice of Ratchet uttered from somewhere to his right. Hound vented his intakes in frustration, optics flickering over to his fellow captive Autobots; Tracks, Mirage, and Ratchet. The medic was currently gracing Hound with a look of mixed sympathy and irritation, something only he could muster.
“But-”
“No buts! I’ve been caught by this guy before and trust me on this; all the struggling in Cybertron won’t work against these” he inclined his head down to indicate the straps. Hound gave another aggravated growl.
“Well what are we supposed to do?” Tracks inquired, sorely annoyed about his dented armour and chipped paintjob he was currently unable to tend to. “Wait for the bounty hunter to make off with our upgrades before chucking us into the incinerator?” Ratchet gave the corvette a silencing glower.
“First off, how about less of the sarcasm and more use of that little thing you call a processor” he snarled. Tracks glared hotly at him. “Second, he’s obviously not planning on taking our parts; or at least not yet. If he was he’d have done it already, so it seems pretty likely that he’s working for someone who wants us intact” the medic concluded, optics narrowing towards the doorway on the far side of the room.
Mirage vented his intakes, “Like whom? What would anyone want with us?” he asked as his golden optics followed Ratchet’s gaze cautiously. Hound gave a dry chuckle.
“Your guess is as good as ours noble” he joked lightly, earning a deadpan glare from Mirage.
“Har har...” the spy responded dryly, “But I highly doubt anyone is willing to hire a bounty hunter for the capture of an ex-noble. Particularly in this day and age” he added, rolling his optics.
“Well whatever the reason-” Ratchet began but cut off at the sound of the door hissing open followed by heavy metallic footsteps.
“How are my favourite prisoners doing?” the voice of Lockdown rumbled, giving off a tone of mock hospitality. All four sets of optics narrowed at the sight of their captor.
“Spare us the slag Lockdown!” Ratchet snapped, “Who’re you working for? Spill it!” Lockdown merely smirked at the medic’s outburst.
“Don’t worry. You’ll all get to meet them soon enough” he chuckled deviously, activating the nearby console’s bleeping monitor. The ‘face’ that appeared on screen was enough to garner a loud curse from Ratchet.
“Soundwave!” he growled, earning confused looks from his teammates; unfamiliar with the Decepticon.
“Lockdown; report” the mech droned in his usual blunt manner.
“Yeah, I’ve got some ‘candidates’ right here” he stepped aside to allow the Decepticon full view of the prisoners. Ratchet shot a dark glare at the screen, to which it was impossible to say Soundwave returned. The ‘con calmly looked them over.
“Quintesson; analysis?” he intoned, moving slightly to the side as an unfocussed shape flooded the screen. It spoke in a grating high pitched tone.
“Humph, none of them look worthy of my time or-”
“Analysis?” Soundwave questioned again, this time a trace of impatience laced the monotone. The creature visibly quelled.
“They could work, but I’ll need to inspect them closer to be sure” he answered grudgingly. This was followed by said creature being roughly shoved aside as a different face filled the screen.
“Excellent! Lockdown, you are to report to these coordinates immediat-” Strika began.
“Payment” the bounty hunter cut in, crossing his arms.
“Will be given upon subjects’ arrival” Soundwave responded calmly, and with a final glance at the prisoners, shut down the communication link. Lockdown heaved an aggravated sigh through his intakes.
“Guy has the personality of a deactivated turbo-fox” he muttered to himself as he made for the door, not bothering to spare a second glance at the thoroughly confused Autobots.
Laying in silence for several kliks, they ran the conversation just heard, through their processors. Finally, someone broke the silence.
“Anyone got any plans now?” Hound mumbled, tone grim. Ratchet continued to glare towards the screen where Soundwave had appeared just moments ago. He could only hope that their disappearance had already been discovered and a search team been dispatched to follow their signals. If not, they were all pretty much slagged to whatever fate the Decepticons had planned for them.
- - - - -
“W-what the frag is that?!” Tracks exclaimed, optics wide and mouth agape. The others expressions weren’t far from his. Lockdown, having just landed on the strange planet, wasted no time in removing his prisoners from the confines of his ship to that of a dark, imposing building. If Ratchet were to hazard a guess, their current location was a science bay. All four were stasis-cuffed and rendered immobile as the smell of stagnant chemicals and sparks of buzzing circuitry surrounded them.
However, what currently had the corvette about two kliks away from purging his fuel tanks, and the others barely containing their disgust, was the strange creature hovering several feet away from them. It was...hideous. It seemed to just compose of an egg shaped body made up of a head and several metallic tentacles...No armour, no notable weapons. But there was something about it that sent a dark chill through each of their sparks.
“Well, look what we have here” the creature shrilly cackled, “Some Elite Guard technology just waiting to be torn apart and remade to my design” All four sets of optics widened.
“What the slag do you mean by that?!” Tracks snapped. Any mention of something being done to his armour was never looked upon lightly by him. With a buzz of static the face suddenly flickered, changing from the plump, jovial one, to a long pointed, angular one.
“SILENCE! You will speak when spoken to, disgusting filth of Cybertron!” the high pitched voice now took on a hysterical, infuriated tone. Then, before anyone could respond, the face switched again.
“Now which of you shall be the lucky one” a bulbous, severe looking face spoke, notably more controlled than the others, but still possessing that high pitched undertone.
“What the frag do you-” Ratchet began, but was cut off by a deep, throaty cackle.
“You should feel honoured, Autobots! One of you shall get to be a part of our little science experiment” the accented voice of Strika spoke from across the room.
“What experiment?” Mirage asked cautiously, optics still locked anxiously on the creature. At this, the distinctive monotone of Soundwave cut in.
“Aim; to provide Decepticons with new soldier possessing quadruped alt mode for increased stealth performance” he intoned, moving to stand against the far wall. Strika chuckled darkly.
“And the Quintesson here has been all too willing to help us” she stated, idly examining her cannon, “While they may be proud, irritable, and distasteful to work with; they can be very compliant when faced with the barrel of a 54 calibre photon canon” her red optics glinted maliciously as they settled on the prisoners. “Now begin, squid!” she barked, shoving her weapon in its direction.
Switching back to the angular, livid face momentarily, it then moved to a new one. Long with many pointed horns at the top and yellow fin like structures jutting from the sides.
“Then let the judgment commence” it spoke in a chillingly authoritative and sadistic voice, moving towards the Autobots. They all tensed as it hovered close to them.
It ‘hmmed’ lightly, drifting by Ratchet who glared heatedly, “Medic, strong warrior, good build, but not suitable for this. Outdated.” it stated dismissively, before moving casually onwards. Ratchet’s optics blazed momentarily. ‘That slagging squid!’ he thought furiously, ‘I’ll show him who’s outdated! I swear, as soon as I get outta these things...’
Stilling slightly as it passed Hound, it gave him a quick once over before stating, “Not suitable either. Far too bulky for the design” It then moved on, leaving Hound both relieved and indignant. Coming to a stop in front of Tracks, it seemed to consider him carefully. The corvette, meanwhile, looked like he was at odds between being sickened, enraged, or terrified.
“Better” the squid actually touched him. Tracks honestly thought that he was going to purge his fuel tanks then and there; especially as the repulsive tentacle grazed his armour. “Better, but still not quite what...” the Quintesson trailed off as its optics settled on Mirage.
Leaving Tracks to swallow his disgust it moved straight over to the ex-noble. Mirage tensed as the creature scrutinized him, keeping his gaze unwavering and not willing to show fear. However, this proved rather difficult as the tentacles that had inspected Tracks did so to him.
Fighting back the urge to shudder in disgust, the spy glared icily at the creature. However, the multi-faced being seemed to be too preoccupied with analysing Mirage to notice this.
“Perfect” it breathed, appendages rising to examine the ex-nobles faceplates. Mirage barely contained his grimace as it did so. “But I wonder what a noble is doing in the Elite Guard...” he pondered aloud, clearly enjoying the spy’s discomfort.
“Quintesson!” Strika barked from behind it, “Are any of them suitable or not?!” Mirage saw the creature flicker back to the angry face briefly before resuming its previous one. Removing its tentacles, to Mirage’s immense relief, it swivelled to face the Decepticon.
“This one.” it stated calmly, but they could all hear the undertone of anticipation. Mirage felt his fuel pumps freeze as several sets of red optics were suddenly fixed on him.
“Heh, a noble being reduced to a science experiment” Lockdown quipped with dark amusement, voice suddenly appearing from behind Mirage. The spy felt himself be shoved forwards, stumbling slightly at the sudden action.
“Bring him to the machine Lockdown” Strika commanded, taking post next to the opening of a circular, metallic structure.
“Get your hands off of him!” Hound yelled, viciously struggling against his cuffs; Ratchet and Tracks following his action. Strika merely looked on in amusement.
“What? No struggles noble?” Lockdown inquired from behind him, smirk evident in his voice. “Although I guess begging would be below you, right?” he chuckled darkly, giving the spy another rough shove.
Mirage kept his optics fixed on the ground, expression frozen. What was the point in struggling when any attempt would be fruitless? And there was no way he was debasing himself to begging in front of the ‘cons. But despite his frosty exterior, it was safe to say that Mirage was wholly terrified; unwilling to think of what the ‘cons and that thing had planned for him.
“In we GO!” Lockdown grunted, ushering the spy with a final hard shove into the machine’s hatch. Swilling around at the last moment, his optics locked with Hound’s; he knew then that his fear had finally managed to surface, by seeing his friend’s expression.
“MIRA-” was the last thing Mirage heard before the door slammed shut in his face. Lockdown moved away from it to casually lean against the controls.
“Mind if I stay and watch the show?” he asked Strika, smirking.
“Just don’t get in the way” she growled, “Squid! Get over here now!” said creature indignantly twitched its tentacles, but obeyed.
“What do we do Ratchet?!” Hound demanded, still desperately trying to free himself. “We can’t let them-”
“A rescue team is on their way” the medic muttered, low enough for Tracks and Hound to hear. “I’ve just received a com from them” the other two’s shoulders visibly sagged in relief.
“When-!” Tracks was cut off by the loud hum of something powering up. Three sets of blue optics fixed onto the machine; the structure itself began to vibrate as dozens of red lights brightened along its rim. Hound noticed with horror that the Quintesson was hovering at the control panel, its face having switched again. This time an ugly green visage was present, with several large protruding yellow teeth.
“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit...” the creature stated, voice disgustingly lathed with sadistic pleasure, “Well, for me anyway” cackling maniacally, it activated the final few codes into the machine. The humming of the construction soon drowned out the squid’s insane laughter. But as the outer-rim began to turn, red lights flashing dangerously, even the machines high-pitched keens weren’t enough to cancel out the unrestrained screams of pain coming from within it.
“MIRAGE!” Hound yelled, struggling with a new found vigour against his cuffs.
“What the slag are you doing to him?!” Ratchet demanded, praying to Primus for the rescue team to hurry. This earned him a series of amused looks.
“Just a little make-over, that’s all” Strika shrugged, grin malicious.
Soundwave, meanwhile, remained stationary at the far side of the room; red visor fixed on the machine, paying careful attention to the movements of the Quintesson. He was no fool and was fully aware of just how tricky the squids could be. Soundwave had no intention of letting the creature turn this one into its own mindless soldier...that was his privilege.
Suddenly, the screams cut off, making the room seem eerily silent even as the machine continued to thunder loudly. Hound felt his spark clench. Mirage...was he...He couldn’t be...
“Ah, the armour reconfiguration has been successful” the Quintesson remarked with glee, “Now to recalibrate his processor functions-” At this, two things happened at once. Soundwave, quick as lightning, moved across the room to behind the Quintesson, easily taking Stika by surprise and dispatching her. Next, a large explosion suddenly brought down the wall on the far right of the room, various laser blasts bursting through the dust and smoke into the chests of Decepticon guard drones. Lockdown wasted no time in barking a loud curse and taking his leave through the closest exit.
“What are you doing?!” the ‘angry’ face demanded as Soundwave shoved him aside, beginning to enter his own codes into the machine. The face’s optics widened, “NO! IT’S MY CREATION! I WILL CONTROL-!” Soundwave easily silenced the creature with a simple laser blast directly to the face, keeping his visor focussed on the machine.
“Your help; no longer necessary. Programme ravage; complete.” he intoned, as he finished entering the data codes, “Processor rewrite; commence.”
Three figures immerged out of the dust still emanating from the collapsed wall. Ratchet felt relief flood his spark as he made them out, but quickly focussed back on their imminent problem.
“Sorry we took so-” Springer began, but cut himself off at the sudden change in the room’s sounds. The loud hum of the machine’s systems had suddenly cut off, the rotating panels had ceased, and the red lights had switched to a bright green. Now the only sounds to be heard were hitching intakes and crumbling rubble.
“What the slag is that?!” Cliffjumper asked, staring suspiciously at the structure. Springer and Trailbreaker followed his gaze.
“Guys, quick! Mirage is in there!” Hound yelled, staring in fear at the machines change. Suddenly, the sharp hiss of a door sliding open sounded from it.
Wisps of steam began to flow out of the opening followed by, they were all shocked to see, a trail of energon leaking from the bottom. Cliffjumper and Springer made straight for the door while Trailbreaker set to breaking the rest out of their stasis cuffs.
Barely a foot from the opening, both Autobots were taken by surprise when something suddenly shot out from within the machines confines, barely brushing past them.
“What the slag?!” Springer quickly spun around, trying to spot the flash of black. Mirage, the last time he checked, was blue so that couldn’t have been him.
“Springer, look at this...” the sheer awe in Cliffjumpers voice was enough to garner an instant reaction from his teammate. Gazing into the hatch of the machine, blue optics widened in unadulterated shock. He didn’t see Mirage, or any other bot in there...What he saw were deep, long, furious slashes all over the walls of the hatch. Slashes that looked like they were caused by...
“...Claws?” he muttered in disbelief. The next moment a sharp, rupturing sonic burst filled the room, causing them all to double over in pain and slam their hands over their audio sensors.
Soundwave looked down from his position, just atop one of the escape shuttles across the lab. His ‘guitar’ was currently resting in his arms, having just served to give the Autobots an indication of his presence. He noted how, despite the pain, the pale green mech still stumbled over to the machine’s hatch, checking for his friend. How pitiful...
Behind his mask, Soundwave smirked as Ratchet, and then the rest glared up at him.
“Soundwave!” the medic roared, “What the slag did you do with Mirage?!” Soundwave had to bite back a chuckle at the undertone of trepidation in Ratchet’s voice.
Canting his head to the side slightly, the Decepticon droned “Designation; unfamiliar” Hound snarled in anger.
“The blue mech you made into you’re twisted slagging experiment! Where is he?!” he roared, optics blazing. Soundwave was unable to fight back the laugh this time. It was a dark, chilling noise but only served to incense Hound more.
“Your friend; offline” Soundwave stated, visor bright with twisted enjoyment.
“He’s not fragging offline!” Hound yelled, having to be kept from blindly attacking the Decepticon by Trailbreaker firmly gripping his arm.
“If he’s offline, then where the slag is his body?!” Springer snapped. Soundwave’s visor darkened as he smirked wider.
“Ravage; report” he stated, dull monotone momentarily betraying a hint of malicious contentment. A black blur rushed past Soundwave, flickering out of view momentarily. Then, with a dull hum, and the sound of scratching metal, the Autobots were staring into the blazing red optics of a four legged metallic creature; Ratchet instantly linked its appearance to the panthers they had back on Earth.
It gave a low, static lased growl towards them; long, sharpened tail swishing threateningly behind it.
“Ravage; transform” Soundwave commanded, attention moving from the expressions on the Autobot’s faceplates, back to the creature; interested in how the process would ensue. The familiar sound of a Cybertronian transformation followed his command. Metal smoothly grooved over metal as the creature moved from its four legged position taking on a more mech-like stature.
Hound’s optics widened in horror. ‘No...No way...’ As the process completed with a hiss of the transformation seams closing off, the mech that stood in front of them was completely different...and painfully familiar.
His previous blue and white paint had bled into a deep cobalt black; the only other colours being patches of dark grey under-armour, sharp red optics and the glaring Decepticon insignia. The stature was similar, but predatorily dangerous; angles pointed and barbed. His razor-sharp tail continued to move with an ominous smoothness; curved end catching the light.
“...Mirage?” Hound whispered in disbelief. Several sets of optics looked from him, back to the mech.
“No way...That’s Mirage?!” Cliffjumper gawked. Springer hissed a curse under his breath.
“What the frag did they do to him?!” he asked. A sudden lurch in the ground brought all of them out of their shock, seeming to serve a similar purpose for Soundwave also.
“Ravage; follow” he intoned, knowing that in moments Elite Guard agents would be swarming the building. Mirage moved to follow the Decepticon, but was suddenly frozen in place. Casting his red optics towards the source, he noted that Ratchet had caught him in one of his magnetic fields.
“You’re not going anywhere with him!” the medic growled, optics bright with fury. Mirage gazed back; expression blank and optics dark.
“Mirage! Come on, snap out of it! It’s us!” Hound yelled, running up so that he was less than a metre from him. Mirage merely continued to regard him with the same cold stare.
“Slag it Mirage! You’re not seriously going to let that Decepticon control you, are you?!” Cliffjumper snapped from behind Hound. Red optics flickered gold momentarily as a trace of something flitted across Mirage’s expression.
“Ravage; attack” the command itself was enough to crush whatever piece of Mirage that had surfaced, bringing Ravage back full force. His tail flicked and the hooked end began to spark; a burst of electricity enveloped the magnetic field, disrupting it. The attack had also served to send both Hound and Cliffjumper propelling back into the group, knocking them into a heap on the floor.
Soundwave watched this with dark amusement, both at the dramatic irony of the scene, and the fact that Ravage was completely under his control. Stepping into the doorway of the escape shuttle, he cast a glance back at the Autobots; already recovering from the attack, but still shell-shocked by what had happened.
With another dark chuckle, Soundwave uttered “Ravage; follow” as he entered the ship. The black mech turned with a swish of his tail, not giving the Autobots a second glance.
“Mirage! Wait! Don’t-” another loud explosion drowned out the rest of Hound’s yell as the Elite Guard reinforcements raided the building. This was followed by the thunderous hum of the shuttle’s engines powering up, and the expulsion of air from its engines sending dust clouds flying.
Resetting his optics, the last thing Hound saw before the door slid shut, was a sharp black tail disappearing within the depths of the ship.
- - - - -
Ratchet vented a heavy sigh, feeling the gentle vibrations of the Elite Guard’s spaceship powering up beneath his feet. He cast his optics from Tracks, stonily silent and for once not complaining about his paintjob, to Hound, sitting slumped on the edge of a medical-berth, face in hands.
“Should I ask about Mirage?” Red Alert quietly inquired as she patched up the medic’s arm injury. She suspected the severity of the situation when Ratchet didn’t irritably bat her away, as he generally would have.
“Not for a while” he responded sombrely, optics dimming as he gazed out the far window.
- - - -
Soundwave watched from the tower porthole as a black form flickered into view, gracefully leaping up the far reaching walls of the structure. He was never certain exactly how the spy managed to move so soundlessly; despite his rather small stature, Ravage was still fully metallic, yet somehow moved as swift and silently as a shadow.
Landing with no more than a click of claws on metal, the catbot gracefully stepped forward and transformed simultaneously.
“I’ve retrieved the information master” he spoke in a soft voice, although there was not a trace of emotion behind it. Soundwave held out his hand and the spy carefully placed a silver data disc into it. Raising it to optic level, Soundwave ran a quick surface scan of it.
“Ravage; successful. Information; retrieved. Security layout of Stockades; uncovered” Soundwave ran an encryption scan of the disks anterior data. He paused as the information he was searching for surfaced.
“Megatron’s location; identified” he stated. Ravage’s optics brightened at the name, but remained silent, expression neutral.
“Breakout plan; in motion. Phase one; complete” Soundwave felt a slight thrill run through his circuits. Despite his agonisingly meticulous planning for the past megacycle, never did he think things would go as smoothly as they had thus far.
He fixed his gaze onto the still immobile form of Ravage; red optics bright as he patiently waited for his master’s next command. Soundwave had to admit that despite their flaws and disgusting forms, the Quintesson had definitely made a good choice in picking this one for the experiment.
Turning his gaze to the large computer system covering a good two thirds of the room, Soundwave inserted the disc, watching through a darkened visor as the classified information filled the screen; sweet energon to his optics.
“Phase two; commence”