Fic: Tipping Point 4/?
TITLE: Tipping Point, part 4
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
Author’s Note: this story was developed and mostly written long before I got my hands on ‘The Veiled Threat’. When I started going through the book I was surprised to note similarities.
I solemnly swear I didn’t try to copy the plot. *hand on heart*
And the idea behind some similar sounding parts is a different one any way :)
Now for an apology: my knowledge of Australia comes from books and the internet. I’ve never been there. I apologize for mangling it already.
I’m also a complete idiot when it comes to physics, astrophysics and astronomy. I claim artistic license and writer’s freedom here. My plot beta already winced so loud, I could hear her from a hundred kilometers away :) She’s an engineer. I’m not. Sorry…
They had engaged the enemy.
They had engaged the enemy. Sideswipe dodged several laser volleys.
"Rather dumb things, hm?" Jolt called as he took out another drone with his whips.
"Yes, but they make up missing intelligence with sheer numbers."
There were dozens of the attack drones, more flooding out of the mine shaft. Not all were built like the guard dogs. These looked like work drones. Heavily armed ones.
"Watch out!"
Sideswipe ducked to the left and evaded angry laser fire. One of his shots hit a drone’s face and the optics broke in a shower of red plastic. The drone staggered away, turning, and the Autobot fired again, this time hitting the bull’s eye. With a screech the back of the drone burst open and the mindless robot crashed to the ground, limbs twitching.
A sudden explosion rocked the corridor and Sideswipe was thrown back. His back hit the wall and his audios rang with the concussion of the blast. Optics unable to focus he desperately looked for his weapon, but his searching fingers didn’t find it.
“Sideswipe!”
A strong hand pulled him up.
“Jolt?” he asked dumbly.
“Yes, it’s me. Go! They’re blowing up the mine! Go!”
He didn’t question the words; he simply ran.
And they ran out of the frying pan into the fire; from a collapsing mine into the waiting arms of the Decepticons they had been chasing.
* * *
-- Patterns stored --
-- Proceeding --
* * *
Lennox had expected snow, but not eight feet of it piling left and right from the road. It was like driving through a tunnel of whiteness. They were the only ones who apparently came here this time of the year and he was glad Ron had reminded him to at least pack the basic foods. The small store in the tiny town where the road branched off to the cabins was closed. This wasn’t a ski area, nor any other kind of winter sports, and everyone had left. The main roads didn’t pass through the assortment of houses that made up the town in summer and people had simply closed up and packed for winter.
Good for them.
Ironhide had found that the winter wonderland was different than he had expected, and while it was more alien than everything else he had seen on the planet so far, it wasn’t bad. He hadn’t been to many snowy landscapes in his time on this planet. Will was too restricted in his movements, so simply driving anywhere required a lot more planning than Bumblebee taking Sam to a nice secluded spot, for example.
They had spent a lot of time in the snowy woods, followed by very nice and much longer moments in the cabin. Cabin wasn’t really a good word for the huge log building that had a garage that easily housed Ironhide. It was two stories tall, had a small storm cellar, a pantry that was surprisingly well-stocked just in case someone got snowed in, and an open fire place. While the coziness of a crackling fire was lost on Ironhide, he took his cues from Lennox, who liked to sit and watch the fire.
Ironhide, in his hardlight holoform, liked to watch Will in turn. He liked to translate the runes, watch the cosmic code, and he liked to trace the swirly lines. One thing led to another and neither minded the intense sharing sessions.
* * *
His name was Razorclaw and he was a Cybertronian by origin, but he had long since cut his birth ties. Like his four fellow Predacons he no longer thought of Cybertron as his home, just a place where he knew every corner and sometimes came back to. Predacons were independent, fierce, for hire. They served no master but rather picked one - the one who paid the most or made the best offers.
Lately, after Megatron’s disappearance, work had been dull. Megatron, despite all his megalomanic tendencies, had made life very, very interesting - and full of rewards.
Razorclaw was a highly respected commander, with the utmost loyalty of his team, and his in return. The five of them had been working as one ever since their activation and their dependence wasn’t overshadowed by fear, terror or pain. The Predacon leader was patient, resourceful and sharp. He knew how to handle the four individuals under his command and he knew how to take their individual streaks.
Working for Soundwave had been more out of initial boredom and the prospect to scout on this strange world called Earth than anything else. Soundwave’s plans had sounded crazy, but also interesting, and after presenting the offer from the high-ranking Decepticon to his team, they had decided to risk it.
Anything was better than nothing to do.
That they had been more or less used as workers had made no difference. It helped even out the two more difficult to handle individuals, Tantrum and Headstrong, who usually felt more balanced with physical work, and Rampage had enjoyed his nightly scouting missions.
None of them had taken on true Earth alternate modes. In this desert they were hardly ever seen, if at all at night, and they had simply added to their Protoforms to be able to transform. All had chosen what the humans would probably call animal modes, though neither could really rely on faking an animal with the way they looked. More like futuristic metal beasts.
Razorclaw didn’t mind.
It had been only a matter of time until the Autobots discovered them and they had prepared for it. The mine had been put under guard by drones and would be destroyed should the Autobots get too close. Their own escape had been planned and was secured.
All according to plan.
Smiling to himself the Predacon leader turned to his team. “Let’s give them something to think about as a farewell present.”
Divebomb grinned cheerfully. “Gotcha.”
“And don’t play too long. We have a schedule to keep.”
The others nodded. All were itching to go up against an enemy, even if the enemy was simply two Autobots.
* * *
Sideswipe picked himself out of the dust with a groan, wondering when a single Decepticon had managed to put on so much weight. And why was he still alive to think about that?
“Jolt?”
“Here,” was the muffled reply. “Preds! Damn, there’s all of them,” the mech grumbled.
All five Predacons. Hiding in the desert of Australia and not very much inclined to take out an Autobot, even if they had had a brief advantage. Sideswipe was suspicious of every Decepticon who didn’t take a chance to get rid of the enemy right away.
“Guess we disrupted their plans. They were in a hurry.”
Or they would’ve been slag in the desert.
The Aborigines were back, looking wary but determined. None was hurt, thankfully.
“They fled toward the desert,” their leader said calmly. “You want us to follow?”
“Slowly,” Jolt decided. “Could be a trap.”
Sideswipe opened a comm line to their base and reported to Rodimus.
“Predacons,” he told their Prime. “All five. They ran us over with sheer force, but they didn’t try to finish us off. Looks like whatever they are planning here, they want to get it done.”
“They headed toward Flat Hollow Junction,” one of their scouts told them. “We can easily follow.”
“It’s dangerous for you to confront them,” Prime cautioned them.
It got him a brief smile. “We don’t plan on getting seen.”
“I appreciate your help, Charles…”
The Aborigine in question shrugged. “No troubles.”
“Now that we know who they are, we have to be doubly cautious,” Rodimus told the two Autobots. “Stay with Charles and his scouts. Don’t engage them again. Find out what they are here for.”
“We will, Prime.”
“We hear ya,” Sideswipe replied. “But if they’re running, we need to find out where and what they’re hiding.”
“I know, Sideswipe. Be careful.”
Rodimus signed off and Jolt transformed, letting their scouts into the car mode.
“He’s got the worry part down,” Sideswipe chuckled.
“Think it’s hereditary?”
“Hot Rod wasn’t a worry wart.”
“He never had the responsibility for anyone either,” Jolt added thoughtfully as they followed the Predacons’ trail.
“Yeah,” Sideswipe agreed. Then he concentrated on their mission once more.
* * *
Soundwave checked the last settings, pleased with the outcome. He turned part of his attention to the incoming call and stopped only a nano-second when the caller ID was confirmed.
“Report,” he said emotionlessly.
“They found us, Soundwave,” Razorclaw said, sounding rather calm about that fact.
“Proceed as planned.”
“We still got one load.”
Soundwave entered several commands and watched the energy field stabilize. He calculated the risk of the Predacons getting caught against the loss of the uranium.
“Proceed as planned,” he finally repeated.
“Understood. Razorclaw out.”
* * *
Keeping a low profile, staying back as far as they could, Jolt and Sideswipe followed the trail of the Predacons, their human guides riding in their cabs. After about an hour the scan signals suddenly disappeared. Charles and his men got out, looking around the dusty plains, carefully walking through the grass.
“They are heading back,” Charles suddenly announced, looking up from the clear tracks in the dust.
“Back? To the mine?”
The man nodded. “There are also less tracks. I suspect this was a decoy.”
Jolt growled. “Great! They multiplied their signals and led us away.”
Sideswipe rumbled in shared anger. They gave their scouts a few more minutes to be sure of their findings, then Jolt shook his head.
“We split up. Sideswipe, you go back to the mine, see if they’re there. I’ll make a wide circle, see if I can pick up something again. Anything suspicious, call me right away.”
“Gotcha.”
Natan and another guide went with Sideswipe, Charles and the fourth stayed with Jolt.
* * *
The call from Sideswipe and Jolt had come in as Rodimus was talking to Lieutenant Monash. The news about who the enemy was had stunned him because he would have expected a lot of Cons, but not Preds. His own experience with this breed of Cybertronian warriors was small, almost non-existent. The Predacons weren’t front-line canon fodder. They were strong but with a quick mind to match their strength, and Megatron had always known where to use them. That they weren’t as singularly devoted to the Decepticon cause as others had never played much into Megatron’s plans. As long as Razorclaw got what he wanted, he served any master.
“Jolt and Sideswipe have found the enemy,” Rodimus told Monash, then added the coordinates.
Monash frowned. “That’s five hundred kilometers north of here, in the middle of the desert. We can airlift you, Prime. We have a C-17 standing by.”
He shook his head. “I’m faster on wheels.”
Monash frowned more. “We’re talking about desert tracks, Prime.”
“And we’re talking about me, not a standard drive.” Rodimus smiled. “Trust me, Lieutenant, I’ve been racing very different roads in the past. I can handle it.”
Monash frowned. “I doubt it, sir. The Australian Outback is harsh territory. You’d be faster if we drop you off and you go the rest by wheels.”
Rodimus hesitated for a moment before nodding. “All right.”
Monash immediately contacted the pilots to scramble. “Ten minutes,” he then told Rodimus. “E-3 Sentry is up in the air and ready to relay data.”
“Understood. Don’t engage enemy targets, Lieutenant.”
Monash nodded briskly. “Listen and relay. Understood, sir. The men have their orders.”
“The Predacons are dangerous, Monash. Very dangerous. They aren’t worker drones and they aren’t stupid. If they were sent here to mine it was for a reason.” Rodimus felt worry rise. He had to talk to Optimus.
He walked toward the waiting C-17 and transformed, driving inside. If Rodimus would have been physically able to, he would have rolled his eyes.
Typical! he thought as he bounced over the hard-packed earth. Tony Stark never goes anywhere without his armor!
For some reason seeing Iron Man in the wide loading bay wasn’t all that surprising. He was more surprised by how quickly Tony had put on the suit.
“Don’t even try to argue with me, Roddy, you’ll lose anyway.” Iron Man’s eye slits glowed a cold white-blue.
“I wouldn’t even try,” the young Prime answered dryly. “You really do have big ears.”
It got him a shrug.
The C-17’s engines got louder and the crew was closing the loading bay doors.
Rodimus only said “Settle in,” as he was strapped down by the soldiers for take-off.
* * *
“They have a ship!” Sideswipe whispered harshly. “Damn!”
Keeping low, hidden behind several rock formations, the Autobot stared at the object of his anger. The shuttle was big and clearly had been refurbished to serve as a cargo transporter. It was a muddy brown-gray, looked rather banged-up, and it was armed. Sideswipe threw open the comm lines and called not only Jolt but also Rodimus Prime.
*
Aboard the E-3 Sentry, controller Henry Hoffman received the call and immediately relayed it to the C-17 that was closing in on their position.
*
Jolt couldn’t believe it that they had fallen for the decoy. He angrily sped across the desert. He wasn’t far from the mine and he would be there in a few minutes. He had left the two humans behind. They had reassured him that they would be fine. This was their land, their home, they would be okay.
*
“Rodimus,” Prowl could be heard over the comm. lines. “Please rethink this.”
Aboard the C-17 the young Prime tried to reign in his annoyance. “No. You stay where you are, Prowl.”
“I must object.” The tactician sounded highly uncomfortable and about ready to argue again, but Rodimus cut him off.
“Being a Prime doesn’t exclude me from fights, Prowl. It never excluded Optimus and it won’t exclude me. Get the message back to Nevada that we found the Decepticons, but you’re not coming along. If this is a ruse and someone attacks this base, the humans won’t be able to defend themselves.”
Prowl’s tone was stony. “Yes, sir,” he answered tersely.
Rodimus briefly sighed. He would have to deal with this later. The Autobots had accepted his new designation, his heritage, but it didn’t mean some of the older ones didn’t try and baby him. He smiled a little to himself. Tony always accused him of doing the same. Yeah, well, it happened to Rodimus, too.
“One minute till drop down,” one of the crew men announced.
The bay doors were already lowered and the wind whipped through the loading compartment. Next to Rodimus, who was still in car mode, stood Iron Man.
::Trouble?:: Tony asked via Extremis.
::No::
::Liar. Prowl is being a hard ass, right?::
::I know he worries and he wants to be here, but I need someone back at the base just in case::
::You don’t have to tell me. I know. I concur, actually:: Tony answered as he checked his systems for the last time.
“Twenty seconds,” the announcement rang through the cargo bay.
Two soldiers released Rodimus from the safety harness that had strapped him down. He started his engine and rolled toward the doors.
“Ten,” the countdown started.
Tony launched his systems and walked over to the ramp, jumping at the count of zero. Rodimus followed, shooting out of the C-17. Parachutes opened as he dropped down, then he released them and transformed. His speed was still high, but he impacted with the ground with no more than a slight shock to his systems. The Audi R8 immediately transformed.
Dust flew up around him as he accelerated. Tony had already disappeared and his speed was a lot faster than the ground speed Rodimus was capable of. The Autobot was much faster than the Audi R8 he had taken as an alt mode, but still too slow compared to someone flying; someone powered by the arc reactor.
So now Rodimus Prime was following a golden-red streak into what hopefully wouldn’t turn out to be a fully-fledged fight, because there was no telling how much of a chance Iron Man stood against Decepticons.
tbc...
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
Author’s Note: this story was developed and mostly written long before I got my hands on ‘The Veiled Threat’. When I started going through the book I was surprised to note similarities.
I solemnly swear I didn’t try to copy the plot. *hand on heart*
And the idea behind some similar sounding parts is a different one any way :)
Now for an apology: my knowledge of Australia comes from books and the internet. I’ve never been there. I apologize for mangling it already.
I’m also a complete idiot when it comes to physics, astrophysics and astronomy. I claim artistic license and writer’s freedom here. My plot beta already winced so loud, I could hear her from a hundred kilometers away :) She’s an engineer. I’m not. Sorry…
They had engaged the enemy.
They had engaged the enemy. Sideswipe dodged several laser volleys.
"Rather dumb things, hm?" Jolt called as he took out another drone with his whips.
"Yes, but they make up missing intelligence with sheer numbers."
There were dozens of the attack drones, more flooding out of the mine shaft. Not all were built like the guard dogs. These looked like work drones. Heavily armed ones.
"Watch out!"
Sideswipe ducked to the left and evaded angry laser fire. One of his shots hit a drone’s face and the optics broke in a shower of red plastic. The drone staggered away, turning, and the Autobot fired again, this time hitting the bull’s eye. With a screech the back of the drone burst open and the mindless robot crashed to the ground, limbs twitching.
A sudden explosion rocked the corridor and Sideswipe was thrown back. His back hit the wall and his audios rang with the concussion of the blast. Optics unable to focus he desperately looked for his weapon, but his searching fingers didn’t find it.
“Sideswipe!”
A strong hand pulled him up.
“Jolt?” he asked dumbly.
“Yes, it’s me. Go! They’re blowing up the mine! Go!”
He didn’t question the words; he simply ran.
And they ran out of the frying pan into the fire; from a collapsing mine into the waiting arms of the Decepticons they had been chasing.
* * *
-- Patterns stored --
-- Proceeding --
* * *
Lennox had expected snow, but not eight feet of it piling left and right from the road. It was like driving through a tunnel of whiteness. They were the only ones who apparently came here this time of the year and he was glad Ron had reminded him to at least pack the basic foods. The small store in the tiny town where the road branched off to the cabins was closed. This wasn’t a ski area, nor any other kind of winter sports, and everyone had left. The main roads didn’t pass through the assortment of houses that made up the town in summer and people had simply closed up and packed for winter.
Good for them.
Ironhide had found that the winter wonderland was different than he had expected, and while it was more alien than everything else he had seen on the planet so far, it wasn’t bad. He hadn’t been to many snowy landscapes in his time on this planet. Will was too restricted in his movements, so simply driving anywhere required a lot more planning than Bumblebee taking Sam to a nice secluded spot, for example.
They had spent a lot of time in the snowy woods, followed by very nice and much longer moments in the cabin. Cabin wasn’t really a good word for the huge log building that had a garage that easily housed Ironhide. It was two stories tall, had a small storm cellar, a pantry that was surprisingly well-stocked just in case someone got snowed in, and an open fire place. While the coziness of a crackling fire was lost on Ironhide, he took his cues from Lennox, who liked to sit and watch the fire.
Ironhide, in his hardlight holoform, liked to watch Will in turn. He liked to translate the runes, watch the cosmic code, and he liked to trace the swirly lines. One thing led to another and neither minded the intense sharing sessions.
* * *
His name was Razorclaw and he was a Cybertronian by origin, but he had long since cut his birth ties. Like his four fellow Predacons he no longer thought of Cybertron as his home, just a place where he knew every corner and sometimes came back to. Predacons were independent, fierce, for hire. They served no master but rather picked one - the one who paid the most or made the best offers.
Lately, after Megatron’s disappearance, work had been dull. Megatron, despite all his megalomanic tendencies, had made life very, very interesting - and full of rewards.
Razorclaw was a highly respected commander, with the utmost loyalty of his team, and his in return. The five of them had been working as one ever since their activation and their dependence wasn’t overshadowed by fear, terror or pain. The Predacon leader was patient, resourceful and sharp. He knew how to handle the four individuals under his command and he knew how to take their individual streaks.
Working for Soundwave had been more out of initial boredom and the prospect to scout on this strange world called Earth than anything else. Soundwave’s plans had sounded crazy, but also interesting, and after presenting the offer from the high-ranking Decepticon to his team, they had decided to risk it.
Anything was better than nothing to do.
That they had been more or less used as workers had made no difference. It helped even out the two more difficult to handle individuals, Tantrum and Headstrong, who usually felt more balanced with physical work, and Rampage had enjoyed his nightly scouting missions.
None of them had taken on true Earth alternate modes. In this desert they were hardly ever seen, if at all at night, and they had simply added to their Protoforms to be able to transform. All had chosen what the humans would probably call animal modes, though neither could really rely on faking an animal with the way they looked. More like futuristic metal beasts.
Razorclaw didn’t mind.
It had been only a matter of time until the Autobots discovered them and they had prepared for it. The mine had been put under guard by drones and would be destroyed should the Autobots get too close. Their own escape had been planned and was secured.
All according to plan.
Smiling to himself the Predacon leader turned to his team. “Let’s give them something to think about as a farewell present.”
Divebomb grinned cheerfully. “Gotcha.”
“And don’t play too long. We have a schedule to keep.”
The others nodded. All were itching to go up against an enemy, even if the enemy was simply two Autobots.
* * *
Sideswipe picked himself out of the dust with a groan, wondering when a single Decepticon had managed to put on so much weight. And why was he still alive to think about that?
“Jolt?”
“Here,” was the muffled reply. “Preds! Damn, there’s all of them,” the mech grumbled.
All five Predacons. Hiding in the desert of Australia and not very much inclined to take out an Autobot, even if they had had a brief advantage. Sideswipe was suspicious of every Decepticon who didn’t take a chance to get rid of the enemy right away.
“Guess we disrupted their plans. They were in a hurry.”
Or they would’ve been slag in the desert.
The Aborigines were back, looking wary but determined. None was hurt, thankfully.
“They fled toward the desert,” their leader said calmly. “You want us to follow?”
“Slowly,” Jolt decided. “Could be a trap.”
Sideswipe opened a comm line to their base and reported to Rodimus.
“Predacons,” he told their Prime. “All five. They ran us over with sheer force, but they didn’t try to finish us off. Looks like whatever they are planning here, they want to get it done.”
“They headed toward Flat Hollow Junction,” one of their scouts told them. “We can easily follow.”
“It’s dangerous for you to confront them,” Prime cautioned them.
It got him a brief smile. “We don’t plan on getting seen.”
“I appreciate your help, Charles…”
The Aborigine in question shrugged. “No troubles.”
“Now that we know who they are, we have to be doubly cautious,” Rodimus told the two Autobots. “Stay with Charles and his scouts. Don’t engage them again. Find out what they are here for.”
“We will, Prime.”
“We hear ya,” Sideswipe replied. “But if they’re running, we need to find out where and what they’re hiding.”
“I know, Sideswipe. Be careful.”
Rodimus signed off and Jolt transformed, letting their scouts into the car mode.
“He’s got the worry part down,” Sideswipe chuckled.
“Think it’s hereditary?”
“Hot Rod wasn’t a worry wart.”
“He never had the responsibility for anyone either,” Jolt added thoughtfully as they followed the Predacons’ trail.
“Yeah,” Sideswipe agreed. Then he concentrated on their mission once more.
* * *
Soundwave checked the last settings, pleased with the outcome. He turned part of his attention to the incoming call and stopped only a nano-second when the caller ID was confirmed.
“Report,” he said emotionlessly.
“They found us, Soundwave,” Razorclaw said, sounding rather calm about that fact.
“Proceed as planned.”
“We still got one load.”
Soundwave entered several commands and watched the energy field stabilize. He calculated the risk of the Predacons getting caught against the loss of the uranium.
“Proceed as planned,” he finally repeated.
“Understood. Razorclaw out.”
* * *
Keeping a low profile, staying back as far as they could, Jolt and Sideswipe followed the trail of the Predacons, their human guides riding in their cabs. After about an hour the scan signals suddenly disappeared. Charles and his men got out, looking around the dusty plains, carefully walking through the grass.
“They are heading back,” Charles suddenly announced, looking up from the clear tracks in the dust.
“Back? To the mine?”
The man nodded. “There are also less tracks. I suspect this was a decoy.”
Jolt growled. “Great! They multiplied their signals and led us away.”
Sideswipe rumbled in shared anger. They gave their scouts a few more minutes to be sure of their findings, then Jolt shook his head.
“We split up. Sideswipe, you go back to the mine, see if they’re there. I’ll make a wide circle, see if I can pick up something again. Anything suspicious, call me right away.”
“Gotcha.”
Natan and another guide went with Sideswipe, Charles and the fourth stayed with Jolt.
* * *
The call from Sideswipe and Jolt had come in as Rodimus was talking to Lieutenant Monash. The news about who the enemy was had stunned him because he would have expected a lot of Cons, but not Preds. His own experience with this breed of Cybertronian warriors was small, almost non-existent. The Predacons weren’t front-line canon fodder. They were strong but with a quick mind to match their strength, and Megatron had always known where to use them. That they weren’t as singularly devoted to the Decepticon cause as others had never played much into Megatron’s plans. As long as Razorclaw got what he wanted, he served any master.
“Jolt and Sideswipe have found the enemy,” Rodimus told Monash, then added the coordinates.
Monash frowned. “That’s five hundred kilometers north of here, in the middle of the desert. We can airlift you, Prime. We have a C-17 standing by.”
He shook his head. “I’m faster on wheels.”
Monash frowned more. “We’re talking about desert tracks, Prime.”
“And we’re talking about me, not a standard drive.” Rodimus smiled. “Trust me, Lieutenant, I’ve been racing very different roads in the past. I can handle it.”
Monash frowned. “I doubt it, sir. The Australian Outback is harsh territory. You’d be faster if we drop you off and you go the rest by wheels.”
Rodimus hesitated for a moment before nodding. “All right.”
Monash immediately contacted the pilots to scramble. “Ten minutes,” he then told Rodimus. “E-3 Sentry is up in the air and ready to relay data.”
“Understood. Don’t engage enemy targets, Lieutenant.”
Monash nodded briskly. “Listen and relay. Understood, sir. The men have their orders.”
“The Predacons are dangerous, Monash. Very dangerous. They aren’t worker drones and they aren’t stupid. If they were sent here to mine it was for a reason.” Rodimus felt worry rise. He had to talk to Optimus.
He walked toward the waiting C-17 and transformed, driving inside. If Rodimus would have been physically able to, he would have rolled his eyes.
Typical! he thought as he bounced over the hard-packed earth. Tony Stark never goes anywhere without his armor!
For some reason seeing Iron Man in the wide loading bay wasn’t all that surprising. He was more surprised by how quickly Tony had put on the suit.
“Don’t even try to argue with me, Roddy, you’ll lose anyway.” Iron Man’s eye slits glowed a cold white-blue.
“I wouldn’t even try,” the young Prime answered dryly. “You really do have big ears.”
It got him a shrug.
The C-17’s engines got louder and the crew was closing the loading bay doors.
Rodimus only said “Settle in,” as he was strapped down by the soldiers for take-off.
* * *
“They have a ship!” Sideswipe whispered harshly. “Damn!”
Keeping low, hidden behind several rock formations, the Autobot stared at the object of his anger. The shuttle was big and clearly had been refurbished to serve as a cargo transporter. It was a muddy brown-gray, looked rather banged-up, and it was armed. Sideswipe threw open the comm lines and called not only Jolt but also Rodimus Prime.
*
Aboard the E-3 Sentry, controller Henry Hoffman received the call and immediately relayed it to the C-17 that was closing in on their position.
*
Jolt couldn’t believe it that they had fallen for the decoy. He angrily sped across the desert. He wasn’t far from the mine and he would be there in a few minutes. He had left the two humans behind. They had reassured him that they would be fine. This was their land, their home, they would be okay.
*
“Rodimus,” Prowl could be heard over the comm. lines. “Please rethink this.”
Aboard the C-17 the young Prime tried to reign in his annoyance. “No. You stay where you are, Prowl.”
“I must object.” The tactician sounded highly uncomfortable and about ready to argue again, but Rodimus cut him off.
“Being a Prime doesn’t exclude me from fights, Prowl. It never excluded Optimus and it won’t exclude me. Get the message back to Nevada that we found the Decepticons, but you’re not coming along. If this is a ruse and someone attacks this base, the humans won’t be able to defend themselves.”
Prowl’s tone was stony. “Yes, sir,” he answered tersely.
Rodimus briefly sighed. He would have to deal with this later. The Autobots had accepted his new designation, his heritage, but it didn’t mean some of the older ones didn’t try and baby him. He smiled a little to himself. Tony always accused him of doing the same. Yeah, well, it happened to Rodimus, too.
“One minute till drop down,” one of the crew men announced.
The bay doors were already lowered and the wind whipped through the loading compartment. Next to Rodimus, who was still in car mode, stood Iron Man.
::Trouble?:: Tony asked via Extremis.
::No::
::Liar. Prowl is being a hard ass, right?::
::I know he worries and he wants to be here, but I need someone back at the base just in case::
::You don’t have to tell me. I know. I concur, actually:: Tony answered as he checked his systems for the last time.
“Twenty seconds,” the announcement rang through the cargo bay.
Two soldiers released Rodimus from the safety harness that had strapped him down. He started his engine and rolled toward the doors.
“Ten,” the countdown started.
Tony launched his systems and walked over to the ramp, jumping at the count of zero. Rodimus followed, shooting out of the C-17. Parachutes opened as he dropped down, then he released them and transformed. His speed was still high, but he impacted with the ground with no more than a slight shock to his systems. The Audi R8 immediately transformed.
Dust flew up around him as he accelerated. Tony had already disappeared and his speed was a lot faster than the ground speed Rodimus was capable of. The Autobot was much faster than the Audi R8 he had taken as an alt mode, but still too slow compared to someone flying; someone powered by the arc reactor.
So now Rodimus Prime was following a golden-red streak into what hopefully wouldn’t turn out to be a fully-fledged fight, because there was no telling how much of a chance Iron Man stood against Decepticons.
tbc...