Fic
Title: Borealis 67/85: Thunderwing - Part II
Author: tainry
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing(s): Ensemble
Warnings: Violence, OC death
Summary: Wherein the Autobots fight Thunderwing on Mars. Ow.
~3900 words.
Part I
BOREALIS: Thunderwing - Part II
2031 - June
The first shot Thunderwing fired in the vicinity of Mars struck Perceptor in the chest. The second and third took Bluestreak's arms off at the shoulders.
Beachcomber stood rooted. Three million years vanished. They were at the beginning again, when every loss was raw and new, and a single plasma blast changed everything. Drift sprinted past him, up and over the ridge to where Perceptor had fallen.
Beachcomber, help me, Drift transmitted, pulling a section of armor off Perceptor’s upper leg. The blue-green glow of Perceptor’s spark was familiar, but not a good sign under these circumstances. His spark chamber has been breached, we need to seal the gap until Ratchet can get here. Dust and sand that got inside a spark chamber would be melted, the impurities would pool inside, eventually evaporate and be incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. Beachcomber had faster, hotter welding equipment in his arms.
Yes. Shivering, Beachcomber ran down the slope.
Not far away, Bluestreak was swearing and shouting in Smokescreen’s embrace as Hoist capped off his shoulders. Both arms - and Bluestreak’s rifle - were a smoldering mess some distance away. That’s just slagging terrific! How the glitching frag am I supposed to fragging help now?
You could take it as a compliment, Smokescreen murmured, pressing his lips to Bluestreak’s helm. Thunderwing obviously thinks you and Perce are the most dangerous mechs here. He made sure to take you out first.
Grounding him to reduce his mobility is still valid. The canyons will limit his range. We just have to keep him down there. Prowl said, recalculating furiously, feeding Prime and Jazz the new probability meshes as each set of data came in.
Starscream and Skywarp flew west down the Valles Marinaris at mach 3, Thunderwing nuzzling their exhausts with his bow. Skywarp gibbered, kept from complete panic only by Starscream’s will. As they reached the narrower canyons of the Noctis Labyrinthus, fire came from above - Superion, Skyfire and Borealis, plus Thundercracker and Strake. Despite some residual damage, the gestalt and the big deltas had joined the Seekers to try to drive Thunderwing lower, into the sights of the bots ranged up and down the rock walls of the labyrinth in a three-dimensional pattern designed by Prowl and Rutile to maximize access to target while minimizing the hazards of a conventional crossfire.
Thundercrackerrr… Starscream growled, his harmonics filled with hatred and promises. A laser from high above scored his wing and he jigged aside angrily, only keeping from bashing himself against the rocks by main force.
Oh, I’m sorry, Starscream, Skyfire sneered. Did I miss?
Thunderwing coming into primary range in 0.23 astroseconds Prime cut in. Starscream, Skywarp, divert to heading 347…now.
The Seekers darted to port, Starscream snarling to himself about Prime’s interference, but a low overhang on the heading he had given led to a cave large enough to shelter them as Ironhide and the rest of the Autobots opened up on Thunderwing, effectively diverting the monstrosity from his pursuit.
Thunderwing’s shields glowed under the barrage, but nothing got through. His shape shifted beneath his asymmetrical wings, unmistakable but unfamiliar cannons bursting through his armor.
Borealis dropped like a giant peregrine, transforming and extending her blades, intending to land on Thunderwing and slice him into coleslaw. Thunderwing rolled toward her approach and an armlike appendage shot out, swatting her away. Several minutes later, her offline body hit Deimos, creating a new crater in the little moon and altering its orbit.
Continuing his roll, Thunderwing fired on the rest of the pursuing jets. One by one he shot them down, separating Superion again with the pulse weapon. Skyfire rapidly modulated and remodulated shields and armor, chirping the data to Ratchet even as Thunderwing’s firepower at last got through and sent the big white delta crashing into the rusty Martian dirt.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“Commander, are you seeing this?”
“Yes, Aquino. Keep recording.” Mars Base One Commander Kat Bowen crossed her arms, her face lit by the flickering screens. Without the recording and playback they’d never be able to see what was going on. It was happening too fast. Prime had wanted them all evacuated, and the science team had been, but the Special Forces unit had chafed and General Lennox had backed them up.
“Are we really just gonna sit here and-” her lieutenant, Jeff Ohara, asked quietly.
“Yes we are,” Bowen cut him off. Ah, youthful enthusiasm. “Unless Prime, Prowl or the Secretary-General of the UN gives us the call, we are staying right here. Out of the way.”
Which didn’t mean she hadn’t already started the standby sequence on the nuclear warhead. She’d need Ohara and Dr. Chantilas and their keys to launch of course, but it looked like if things went pear-shaped down there in the Labyrinthus they wouldn’t have much warning.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“Shit.” NEST headquarters, the Pentagon. Lennox paced the room like an old wolf; grey-haired and lean. He watched the feeds from Jazz and Rio and the Mars Base satellites with a dangerous look in his eyes. “They’ve been holding back,” he muttered. “This whole time. Holding back. We never even… Shit.” They were seeing how robots fought when there weren’t humans to protect, when there weren’t humans in the way.
Lennox had seen sparring matches aplenty, and more battles with the Decepticons than he cared to count. And this wasn’t even a full army-vs-army battle. This was a couple hundred Autobots trying to take down one misbegotten abomination. The war on Cybertron must have been like nothing Lennox ever wanted to see. If the Transformers had shown up on Earth when Bots and Cons had been at full strength instead of on the raggedy edge of having wiped each other out, Earth wouldn’t have stood a chance.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Optimus Prime, I accept your truce in this matter. The Sweeps and I will deal with Thunderwing. You will withdraw.
Hello, Cyclonus, Ultra Magnus said. Nice of you to join the party.
How dare you! Starscream hissed from his cave.
Thunderwing landed precisely where Ironhide hoped he would. And ionized the atmosphere.
It’s raining Sweeps, Jazz said, when the screaming had stopped and his CPU recovered. Hallelujah it’s raining Sweeps… His EM gun hadn’t been designed to be used defensively like that but it worked, shunting the worst of the ionization around him. Terraforming efforts would have been set back centuries if any had been started. Groans and static echoed weakly through the thin, glowing air, resounding off the canyon walls. Jazz didn’t like it that he was the only mech in range with optics on. Thunderwing turned toward him.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“What the hell was that?!” Aquino shouted over the wailing alarms, even as she watched the readouts.
“Gear up, people,” Bowen ordered, shooing everyone ahead of her toward the rad suit racks. The base had been built to withstand heavy solar flare bombardment, so far it was holding fine.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Lifting his shield-gun, Jazz fired repeatedly into Thunderwing’s face. He abruptly had to adjust his aim as Rail Racer’s shield edge slammed into Thunderwing’s helm. Rail Racer fired several shots point blank into Thunderwing’s chest before Thunderwing wound an appendage around Racer’s shield arm and crushed it, leveling one of his own cannons at Racer’s neck.
The Build Team’s gestalt mode, Landstrider, jumped in, knocking the cannon aside. Bolo and Jury and four others of the Graveyard Legion followed the two gestalts to pound at Thunderwing, giving the rest of the Autobots time to recover and begin more precise attacks. Mirage went invisible and darted underneath Thunderwing’s chassis, firing upward.
Rail Racer went down, shield arm broken, neck nearly severed, head badly damaged and unable to disconnect into his three component mechs. Skyfire, in robot mode and missing a wing, waded in as Cyclonus landed on Thunderwing’s back.
Where the frag is he getting all this power? Ratchet swore, dodging another blast from Thunderwing’s guns as he worked on getting Searchlight back online. Bluestreak and Smokescreen’s progeny had fallen from a ledge near the canyon’s rim when Thunderwing’s atmospheric weapon had gone off.
Working on it, Wheeljack said. He launched another missile from his shoulder, chugging through Skyfire’s observational data as fast as he could.
No! came a cry from Hound. Mirage had been stepped on. Hound lunged forward, but Streetwise grabbed him. A flash of blue wove between churning legs and was lost in the billowing dust of the melee. Blurr emerged carrying something which flickered into Mirage as the young mech laid him next to Searchlight.
Cyclonus hewed at Thunderwing’s neck with a long black blade. Ultra Magnus leapt to join him, firing at the back of Thunderwing’s helm. Arms suddenly grew from Thunderwing’s dorsal surface, grabbing both of them and smashing them together before throwing them into low orbit.
Nucleon! Skyfire broadcast. I’m getting the chemical signature. One of Cyclonus’ hits got through.
Nucleon, Wheeljack said. That’s not good.
That’s not stable, Ratchet growled. Slag.
Landstrider went down, breaking his gestalt. Hot Spot wanted to form Defensor, but First Aid was busy keeping Trailbreaker alive. Powerglide was hit, and Springer.
Cyclonus and Ultra Magnus returned to the planet’s surface via comet mode, transforming and catching Evac’s landing skids for a quick ride down to the action. Cyclonus resumed his position on Thunderwing’s back, hacking at the already self-repaired neck with renewed determination.
…
Perceptor's optics lit. Euuuurrlptk. Oh my. Hello Bluescreencomber, hello Waft, unit time query planetism?
Beachcomber and Drift exchanged a hastily horrified look. Reset your primary-use language module, Drift said.
Perceptor's sensory fins extended then retracted. That was messy, he said calmly. Drift rested his helm on Beachcomber's shoulder for half a second.
Perceptor, we need you on your feet, Drift said. This isn't going well.
I can see that, Perceptor said, peering through the rock wall between them and the battle. Help me up. Cyclonus is an able warrior, but he's aiming for the wrong part.
…
A bright circle appeared on Thunderwing’s shields. Brighter than the Sun at this distance.
Perceptor’s up! Atrandom crowed, ducking with the Lamborghini twins behind an outcropping.
Severing the head will do no good, Perceptor broadcast, tight-beaming to Cyclonus on an old Decepticon channel as well. This thing’s CPUs are distributed. There are seven and we’re going to have to get them all.
It’s using nucleon instead of energon, Perceptor, Wheeljack said.
Oh dear, said Perceptor. Well. Try not to ignite him, then.
Ultra Magnus and Cyclonus looked at each other for a nanosecond.
“Great,” Ultra Magnus muttered, and switched out his cannon for an energon sword very like Optimus’.
Cyclonus grinned and drove his blade toward the nearest CPU according to Perceptor’s map, but the tip merely glanced aside. Thunderwing’s shields were somehow stronger.
Everyone, keep firing, Skyfire broadcast. You too, Starscream, Skywarp. We must wear down his shields long enough for those with non-energy weapons to get at the processors. There was no answer from the cave. Starscream and Skywarp had fallen into recharge.
Thunderwing unleashed his pulse weapon. The mechs surrounding him fell away.
“No!” First Aid threw himself across Traibreaker’s chest, feeling the big mech’s spark gutter. Catscan similarly tried to protect Seaspray. Ratchet’s swearing jumped in volume then ceased as Farragut, Gawain, Wyvern and Nimbus of the Graveyard Legion - already badly wounded - died.
As Thunderwing moved toward the cave where Starscream and Skywarp hid, Prime rolled groaning to his feet and extended his swords to their greatest length.
No farther, Prime said. Thunderwing, stop. You’re dying, please stop.
I AM THUNDERWING! was the reply, and a powered lance in Thunderwing’s arm thrust through the center of Prime’s chest.
…
“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Drift muttered, trying again to sit up, succeeding this time. Everything hurt. On the other side of Perceptor, Beachcomber was offline, but Perceptor himself was crouching, head down, light cannon humming.
Skyfire, your calculations are correct, Perceptor broadcast. If we use this algorithm - Jazz, be so good as to make certain everyone’s getting this, I don’t think my comms are operating correctly - with this algorithm plugged into our shield modulators his next such strike should have little effect. Skyfire? He looked up, searching for his colleague. Skyf- OPTIMUS!
The light cannon fired; a continuous beam whose power level was audibly rising. And rising. Down on the canyon floor Thunderwing’s shields rippled, arc-welder bright, yet holding.
Drift leapt to his feet.
He’s not going to stop, Beachcomber groaned softly, sitting up and squeezing his helm as if that would ease the pain. Drift, that cannon runs directly off his spark. He opened a panel in his side, pulling out a major power cable.
Understanding at once, Drift knelt at Perceptor’s other side, unhooking his own power cable and plugging it into Perceptor’s systems.
He won’t drain us, Beachcomber explained. He’ll stop when he has to now because he won’t take us with him. The frightening whine of the cannon rose higher.
Good idea, Ironhide and Chromia said together. Swiftly, Bumblebee and Bluestreak - with Bee’s help - hooked themselves up to Ironhide, while Streetwise and Tracks did so with Chromia. Throughout the canyon, the Autobots clustered around those with the most powerful weapons, lending their strength, concentrating their fire. Kup, Arcee and Smokescreen to Ultra Magnus; Groove and Rutile to Prowl; Hound and Blades to Raze; Red Alert, Windcharger and Gears to Hot Spot; Cliffjumper and Blurr to Sideswipe; Brawn and Goldbug to Sunstreaker. Cyclonus continued to stab at Thunderwing’s buckling shields.
…
Prime retracted his battle mask - energon gushed from his mouth. Hand over hand he pulled himself up the lance. Closer. His own spark a torus around the lance, Prime could feel that Thunderwing’s spark had split, a smaller portion deeper within Thunderwing’s terrible body. Out of reach. Prime drew an arm back, sending more power to the blade until it glowed bright amber. Perhaps the smaller portion would extinguish from the shock. Thunderwing’s shields flickered, went out for half a second.
Prime struck clean and true, and Thunderwing fired every weapon in his arsenal.
…
A plasma beam seared across Prowl’s face and he staggered, releasing Groove and Rutile’s power cables before the shock and pain could reach them. Both chevron and optics were out, the optics melted from their sockets. Raze and Sideswipe with their cohorts closed ranks in front of him and Jazz somersaulted from the cliff above.
"I gotcha, man," Jazz said, sliding his arm under Prowl’s and plugging in an arm cable. Use my visor feed.
He'll be all right, Sideswipe told Raze.
I know, Raze said, grinning.
Prowl and Jazz sailed out like they were waltzing, flanked by Rutile and Groove, shield gun and missiles and butylpotassium gun firing continuously, aiming for places no-one else was, to make Thunderwing’s shields work harder.
Swinging the lance, Thunderwing sent Prime crashing into the canyon wall and continued toward the cave. Violet nucleon ran from the rent in his armor
Secondary spark, Prime broadcast, fighting to stay online as the Allspark closed the hole in his chest. Keep on…. gnnnnaaah… keep firing… Almost have him.
Thunderwing kept firing as well, though his ruined face pointed inexorably to the cave. Thinking Prowl was about to be hit again, Jazz shoved him over. And took the volley himself in the midsection. They went down together, Prowl shouting in pain because Jazz for a moment could not.
At that moment, Perceptor broke through, the light cannon beam passing through armor and protoform, taking out two of Thunderwing’s CPUs. Cyclonus punched his blade through three more before being thrown off and Ultra Magnus, missing a hand and part of an arm and his helm smoking from a close call, got the last two.
We got him! Sideswipe said, too tired to do more than grin.
No… Perceptor grated. He powered down his cannon before Beachcomber fell offline. No, still detecting power generation.
That’s it, Evac said, hauling himself to his feet and staggering over to Thunderwing’s immense and at least briefly inert form. I’ve had it with this thing.
Evac… Bolo began, worried.
Evac shoved his way under Thunderwing’s shoulders, transforming to cometary mode with difficulty, keeping his arms free to hold on.
No, you don’t have to… Prime crawled forward.
Evac took off, pointing himself toward the sunrise. It took light 12.77 minutes to reach Mars from the sun. Evac would take somewhat longer.
Stop him! Blades wasn’t badly damaged, he was sure, but the places he was hit prevented him from transforming, even to cometary mode. He continued to drag Strake toward Lifeline and Catscan’s triage center. All the jets were offline.
Evac knows what he’s doing, Prime thought but did not say. It wouldn’t help.
…
Lennox sat down for the first time since the battle had begun. The whole thing had taken less than an hour. He rubbed his face. “How long?”
“At that speed, uh, another thirty minutes, sir.”
“Okay. If that thing he’s carrying so much as twitches, launch every SDI2 missile in range.”
“Yes, sir.”
…
The cloud mind was oddly silent. No-one wanted to interfere with anything Evac might want to say. There wasn’t much; just private messages to Bolo and Blades, which Bolo accepted quietly. Blades not so much. He knew how to swear in thirty human languages in addition to Cybertronian.
Slag in a can! Death by fusion again! Evac shouted, laughing as the sun filled his vision.
No! Bolo cried, struggling to get up despite the sizable hole in his side. You promised! You promised you would let me go first this time!
Ah, beloved, I'm sorry, sorry... I love y-
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
On Earth, sheltered deep within the Cybertronian Embassy, in growth tank number six, inaudible alarms shrilled across networks already overtaxed with data streaming between those embattled on Mars and anxious watchers on Earth. Mikaela had the codes to get into the med-bay's inner chamber, running past Glyph and the minicons who kept vigil beside Vector Prime and Safeguard.
There was little she could do. Ratchet was up to his shoulders in Springer's chest, was directing triage, as well as keeping a reassuring line open to First Aid and the other Protectobots who were competent field medics but had never seen combat on this scale before. He patched a subroutine in to Mikaela's comm line anyway.
"Are you getting this?" Mikaela said, moving her gaze over the tank readouts and the flashing indicators. She had dialed the plex transparent, but from the outside, the protoform gave no indication of the distress within. The new spark's energy readings had dropped almost to zero for a handful of nanoseconds, and though they had risen again, they had not stabilized completely. "This is Evac and Blades' kid, isn't it." She wanted to ask what was going on up there, but the satellite feeds were grim enough.
Yes. the subroutine's tone was flat and impersonal. Mikaela understood that she was receiving only a tiny fraction of Ratchet's attention. Evac has been deactivated.
"Oh no," she said. I'm glad it wasn't Blades, she thought. She would wrestle her traitorous heart later. The Protectobots were the same age as Dani. "Is...is this related?"
Unclear. Possible. Please increase the energon feed to the tank to 45 millivols per second.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Blades dragged Warpath toward the triage center. He wasn't going to watch Evac fly into the sun. He wasn't. There was work to be done, and Blades couldn't help Evac now. When his spark contracted sharply, he dropped like a core-shot Seeker. Kind of hard on a patient, he thought, when his CPU rebooted. Must remember not to do that again. If he had a little warning he could shoot his articulation locks.
BLADES!
Oh. The gestalt channel had gone incandescent. I'm all right. I think. Hot Spot, don't you dare come over here.
Blades, tell me exactly what happened/Brawn, hold him still until I get the patch in, First Aid said, holding on to calm simply because he had to.
Later. It’s over, I’m fine now.
Of the twenty Sweeps Cyclonus had brought with him, only a handful remained. Withdraw, he commanded. Galvatron must be informed of Prime’s survival.
A Sweep raised his pistol as he climbed to the plateau for an easier launch, taking careful aim at Prime. Wouldn’t hurt to at least make the attempt; he might even be upgraded to Seeker if he succeeded. Something plinked against the gun, not even disturbing his aim much - until the alloys began to smoke and dissolve. Prowl evidently still had some alkali pellets left. The Sweep fled. Followed shortly by Starscream and Skywarp.
“Slaggers,” Sideswipe growled.
“You stay here,” Sunstreaker told his brother. “I’ll go find your arm, or what’s left of it.” He looked at Raze. “You stay, too.”
Ironhide sat down hard and rested his head in his left hand. His right arm and cannon were a mass of melted slag. "If Galvatron was here I'd kick his aft," he said.
"You and me both," Chromia muttered.
Prowl held on to Jazz, to the link, but kept his own pain behind firewalls. The pain gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the idea of using a sun as a weapon. Jazz covered Prowl’s hand on his waist with his own.
"Trochar used to shoot us in the face at low power,” Sideswipe explained, leaning on Raze. “Part of our drills, so we'd know how to handle it."
"Yes, I remember," said Raze. He tipped his head back against Sideswipe’s intact shoulder, optics off.
"You're... you were battalion, weren't you."
"Yes. And that's as much as you're going to get from me, Sides. This life is a second chance for a lot of us, a chance to be what we weren't. Make up for things we...should have done." He laughed. "Especially Bolo and Evac." He laughed harder.
...
“Skyfire!” SKYFIRE! Silverbolt started to run, but the damaged structures in his left leg threatened to give out entirely. The big white jet lay facedown in a glowing pool of energon, unresponsive to hails on any channel. Skydive sprinted ahead, kneeling by Skyfire’s head.
I’m getting energy readings from his spark, Skydive transmitted hurriedly. He’s alive, Bolt, listen! He’s alive. He’s just in stasis lock.
Looks like he bled out, Air Raid said helpfully. Wow. Refueling a line system that size is gonna take a while.
“Shut up!” Fireflight growled. Silverbolt at last reached the fallen delta’s side. Fireflight helped him turn Skyfire over. “Oh slag.”
“Ooo,” said Air Raid. “Yeah, that would about do it. Primus.” Thunderwing had clawed Skyfire’s torso open, four long vertical rents dissecting him like lasers through lead.
Limping, Silverbolt carried Skyfire’s cold body to the triage center.
…
Optimus knelt, holding Bolo’s upper torso carefully, tenderly. “I’m so sorry.”
“She goes where I cannot follow.”
“I know. If there was some way… The Matrix was part of the Allspark once.”
“No matter.” Bolo patted Prime’s hand, then shut off his optics and waited for his turn with the medics.
…
Borealis?
Uuurgh.
Are you all right?
Nnnngh. Yeah, more or less. I think I broke a moon, though. She would have to give Deimos a good long push in just the right direction, or Mars would lose its outer moon in a few years. Dammit, she thought, bastards quit messing up my solar system!
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
The battlefield could be seen from Earth via telescopes, spilled energon unnaturally lighting swathes of the Noctis Labyrinthus. Epps put the end cap on and brought the scope inside. And tried not to think about it until the urge to throw up passed.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Cybertronians do not weep. Lennox went home and Sarah held him through the night as she had often done, while he wept for friends who could not.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Blades, big as he was, couldn't be seen amid the pile of his brothers and the Aerialbots.
Part III
Table of Contents
.
Author: tainry
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing(s): Ensemble
Warnings: Violence, OC death
Summary: Wherein the Autobots fight Thunderwing on Mars. Ow.
~3900 words.
Part I
BOREALIS: Thunderwing - Part II
2031 - June
The first shot Thunderwing fired in the vicinity of Mars struck Perceptor in the chest. The second and third took Bluestreak's arms off at the shoulders.
Beachcomber stood rooted. Three million years vanished. They were at the beginning again, when every loss was raw and new, and a single plasma blast changed everything. Drift sprinted past him, up and over the ridge to where Perceptor had fallen.
Beachcomber, help me, Drift transmitted, pulling a section of armor off Perceptor’s upper leg. The blue-green glow of Perceptor’s spark was familiar, but not a good sign under these circumstances. His spark chamber has been breached, we need to seal the gap until Ratchet can get here. Dust and sand that got inside a spark chamber would be melted, the impurities would pool inside, eventually evaporate and be incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. Beachcomber had faster, hotter welding equipment in his arms.
Yes. Shivering, Beachcomber ran down the slope.
Not far away, Bluestreak was swearing and shouting in Smokescreen’s embrace as Hoist capped off his shoulders. Both arms - and Bluestreak’s rifle - were a smoldering mess some distance away. That’s just slagging terrific! How the glitching frag am I supposed to fragging help now?
You could take it as a compliment, Smokescreen murmured, pressing his lips to Bluestreak’s helm. Thunderwing obviously thinks you and Perce are the most dangerous mechs here. He made sure to take you out first.
Grounding him to reduce his mobility is still valid. The canyons will limit his range. We just have to keep him down there. Prowl said, recalculating furiously, feeding Prime and Jazz the new probability meshes as each set of data came in.
Starscream and Skywarp flew west down the Valles Marinaris at mach 3, Thunderwing nuzzling their exhausts with his bow. Skywarp gibbered, kept from complete panic only by Starscream’s will. As they reached the narrower canyons of the Noctis Labyrinthus, fire came from above - Superion, Skyfire and Borealis, plus Thundercracker and Strake. Despite some residual damage, the gestalt and the big deltas had joined the Seekers to try to drive Thunderwing lower, into the sights of the bots ranged up and down the rock walls of the labyrinth in a three-dimensional pattern designed by Prowl and Rutile to maximize access to target while minimizing the hazards of a conventional crossfire.
Thundercrackerrr… Starscream growled, his harmonics filled with hatred and promises. A laser from high above scored his wing and he jigged aside angrily, only keeping from bashing himself against the rocks by main force.
Oh, I’m sorry, Starscream, Skyfire sneered. Did I miss?
Thunderwing coming into primary range in 0.23 astroseconds Prime cut in. Starscream, Skywarp, divert to heading 347…now.
The Seekers darted to port, Starscream snarling to himself about Prime’s interference, but a low overhang on the heading he had given led to a cave large enough to shelter them as Ironhide and the rest of the Autobots opened up on Thunderwing, effectively diverting the monstrosity from his pursuit.
Thunderwing’s shields glowed under the barrage, but nothing got through. His shape shifted beneath his asymmetrical wings, unmistakable but unfamiliar cannons bursting through his armor.
Borealis dropped like a giant peregrine, transforming and extending her blades, intending to land on Thunderwing and slice him into coleslaw. Thunderwing rolled toward her approach and an armlike appendage shot out, swatting her away. Several minutes later, her offline body hit Deimos, creating a new crater in the little moon and altering its orbit.
Continuing his roll, Thunderwing fired on the rest of the pursuing jets. One by one he shot them down, separating Superion again with the pulse weapon. Skyfire rapidly modulated and remodulated shields and armor, chirping the data to Ratchet even as Thunderwing’s firepower at last got through and sent the big white delta crashing into the rusty Martian dirt.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“Commander, are you seeing this?”
“Yes, Aquino. Keep recording.” Mars Base One Commander Kat Bowen crossed her arms, her face lit by the flickering screens. Without the recording and playback they’d never be able to see what was going on. It was happening too fast. Prime had wanted them all evacuated, and the science team had been, but the Special Forces unit had chafed and General Lennox had backed them up.
“Are we really just gonna sit here and-” her lieutenant, Jeff Ohara, asked quietly.
“Yes we are,” Bowen cut him off. Ah, youthful enthusiasm. “Unless Prime, Prowl or the Secretary-General of the UN gives us the call, we are staying right here. Out of the way.”
Which didn’t mean she hadn’t already started the standby sequence on the nuclear warhead. She’d need Ohara and Dr. Chantilas and their keys to launch of course, but it looked like if things went pear-shaped down there in the Labyrinthus they wouldn’t have much warning.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“Shit.” NEST headquarters, the Pentagon. Lennox paced the room like an old wolf; grey-haired and lean. He watched the feeds from Jazz and Rio and the Mars Base satellites with a dangerous look in his eyes. “They’ve been holding back,” he muttered. “This whole time. Holding back. We never even… Shit.” They were seeing how robots fought when there weren’t humans to protect, when there weren’t humans in the way.
Lennox had seen sparring matches aplenty, and more battles with the Decepticons than he cared to count. And this wasn’t even a full army-vs-army battle. This was a couple hundred Autobots trying to take down one misbegotten abomination. The war on Cybertron must have been like nothing Lennox ever wanted to see. If the Transformers had shown up on Earth when Bots and Cons had been at full strength instead of on the raggedy edge of having wiped each other out, Earth wouldn’t have stood a chance.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Optimus Prime, I accept your truce in this matter. The Sweeps and I will deal with Thunderwing. You will withdraw.
Hello, Cyclonus, Ultra Magnus said. Nice of you to join the party.
How dare you! Starscream hissed from his cave.
Thunderwing landed precisely where Ironhide hoped he would. And ionized the atmosphere.
It’s raining Sweeps, Jazz said, when the screaming had stopped and his CPU recovered. Hallelujah it’s raining Sweeps… His EM gun hadn’t been designed to be used defensively like that but it worked, shunting the worst of the ionization around him. Terraforming efforts would have been set back centuries if any had been started. Groans and static echoed weakly through the thin, glowing air, resounding off the canyon walls. Jazz didn’t like it that he was the only mech in range with optics on. Thunderwing turned toward him.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
“What the hell was that?!” Aquino shouted over the wailing alarms, even as she watched the readouts.
“Gear up, people,” Bowen ordered, shooing everyone ahead of her toward the rad suit racks. The base had been built to withstand heavy solar flare bombardment, so far it was holding fine.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Lifting his shield-gun, Jazz fired repeatedly into Thunderwing’s face. He abruptly had to adjust his aim as Rail Racer’s shield edge slammed into Thunderwing’s helm. Rail Racer fired several shots point blank into Thunderwing’s chest before Thunderwing wound an appendage around Racer’s shield arm and crushed it, leveling one of his own cannons at Racer’s neck.
The Build Team’s gestalt mode, Landstrider, jumped in, knocking the cannon aside. Bolo and Jury and four others of the Graveyard Legion followed the two gestalts to pound at Thunderwing, giving the rest of the Autobots time to recover and begin more precise attacks. Mirage went invisible and darted underneath Thunderwing’s chassis, firing upward.
Rail Racer went down, shield arm broken, neck nearly severed, head badly damaged and unable to disconnect into his three component mechs. Skyfire, in robot mode and missing a wing, waded in as Cyclonus landed on Thunderwing’s back.
Where the frag is he getting all this power? Ratchet swore, dodging another blast from Thunderwing’s guns as he worked on getting Searchlight back online. Bluestreak and Smokescreen’s progeny had fallen from a ledge near the canyon’s rim when Thunderwing’s atmospheric weapon had gone off.
Working on it, Wheeljack said. He launched another missile from his shoulder, chugging through Skyfire’s observational data as fast as he could.
No! came a cry from Hound. Mirage had been stepped on. Hound lunged forward, but Streetwise grabbed him. A flash of blue wove between churning legs and was lost in the billowing dust of the melee. Blurr emerged carrying something which flickered into Mirage as the young mech laid him next to Searchlight.
Cyclonus hewed at Thunderwing’s neck with a long black blade. Ultra Magnus leapt to join him, firing at the back of Thunderwing’s helm. Arms suddenly grew from Thunderwing’s dorsal surface, grabbing both of them and smashing them together before throwing them into low orbit.
Nucleon! Skyfire broadcast. I’m getting the chemical signature. One of Cyclonus’ hits got through.
Nucleon, Wheeljack said. That’s not good.
That’s not stable, Ratchet growled. Slag.
Landstrider went down, breaking his gestalt. Hot Spot wanted to form Defensor, but First Aid was busy keeping Trailbreaker alive. Powerglide was hit, and Springer.
Cyclonus and Ultra Magnus returned to the planet’s surface via comet mode, transforming and catching Evac’s landing skids for a quick ride down to the action. Cyclonus resumed his position on Thunderwing’s back, hacking at the already self-repaired neck with renewed determination.
…
Perceptor's optics lit. Euuuurrlptk. Oh my. Hello Bluescreencomber, hello Waft, unit time query planetism?
Beachcomber and Drift exchanged a hastily horrified look. Reset your primary-use language module, Drift said.
Perceptor's sensory fins extended then retracted. That was messy, he said calmly. Drift rested his helm on Beachcomber's shoulder for half a second.
Perceptor, we need you on your feet, Drift said. This isn't going well.
I can see that, Perceptor said, peering through the rock wall between them and the battle. Help me up. Cyclonus is an able warrior, but he's aiming for the wrong part.
…
A bright circle appeared on Thunderwing’s shields. Brighter than the Sun at this distance.
Perceptor’s up! Atrandom crowed, ducking with the Lamborghini twins behind an outcropping.
Severing the head will do no good, Perceptor broadcast, tight-beaming to Cyclonus on an old Decepticon channel as well. This thing’s CPUs are distributed. There are seven and we’re going to have to get them all.
It’s using nucleon instead of energon, Perceptor, Wheeljack said.
Oh dear, said Perceptor. Well. Try not to ignite him, then.
Ultra Magnus and Cyclonus looked at each other for a nanosecond.
“Great,” Ultra Magnus muttered, and switched out his cannon for an energon sword very like Optimus’.
Cyclonus grinned and drove his blade toward the nearest CPU according to Perceptor’s map, but the tip merely glanced aside. Thunderwing’s shields were somehow stronger.
Everyone, keep firing, Skyfire broadcast. You too, Starscream, Skywarp. We must wear down his shields long enough for those with non-energy weapons to get at the processors. There was no answer from the cave. Starscream and Skywarp had fallen into recharge.
Thunderwing unleashed his pulse weapon. The mechs surrounding him fell away.
“No!” First Aid threw himself across Traibreaker’s chest, feeling the big mech’s spark gutter. Catscan similarly tried to protect Seaspray. Ratchet’s swearing jumped in volume then ceased as Farragut, Gawain, Wyvern and Nimbus of the Graveyard Legion - already badly wounded - died.
As Thunderwing moved toward the cave where Starscream and Skywarp hid, Prime rolled groaning to his feet and extended his swords to their greatest length.
No farther, Prime said. Thunderwing, stop. You’re dying, please stop.
I AM THUNDERWING! was the reply, and a powered lance in Thunderwing’s arm thrust through the center of Prime’s chest.
…
“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Drift muttered, trying again to sit up, succeeding this time. Everything hurt. On the other side of Perceptor, Beachcomber was offline, but Perceptor himself was crouching, head down, light cannon humming.
Skyfire, your calculations are correct, Perceptor broadcast. If we use this algorithm - Jazz, be so good as to make certain everyone’s getting this, I don’t think my comms are operating correctly - with this algorithm plugged into our shield modulators his next such strike should have little effect. Skyfire? He looked up, searching for his colleague. Skyf- OPTIMUS!
The light cannon fired; a continuous beam whose power level was audibly rising. And rising. Down on the canyon floor Thunderwing’s shields rippled, arc-welder bright, yet holding.
Drift leapt to his feet.
He’s not going to stop, Beachcomber groaned softly, sitting up and squeezing his helm as if that would ease the pain. Drift, that cannon runs directly off his spark. He opened a panel in his side, pulling out a major power cable.
Understanding at once, Drift knelt at Perceptor’s other side, unhooking his own power cable and plugging it into Perceptor’s systems.
He won’t drain us, Beachcomber explained. He’ll stop when he has to now because he won’t take us with him. The frightening whine of the cannon rose higher.
Good idea, Ironhide and Chromia said together. Swiftly, Bumblebee and Bluestreak - with Bee’s help - hooked themselves up to Ironhide, while Streetwise and Tracks did so with Chromia. Throughout the canyon, the Autobots clustered around those with the most powerful weapons, lending their strength, concentrating their fire. Kup, Arcee and Smokescreen to Ultra Magnus; Groove and Rutile to Prowl; Hound and Blades to Raze; Red Alert, Windcharger and Gears to Hot Spot; Cliffjumper and Blurr to Sideswipe; Brawn and Goldbug to Sunstreaker. Cyclonus continued to stab at Thunderwing’s buckling shields.
…
Prime retracted his battle mask - energon gushed from his mouth. Hand over hand he pulled himself up the lance. Closer. His own spark a torus around the lance, Prime could feel that Thunderwing’s spark had split, a smaller portion deeper within Thunderwing’s terrible body. Out of reach. Prime drew an arm back, sending more power to the blade until it glowed bright amber. Perhaps the smaller portion would extinguish from the shock. Thunderwing’s shields flickered, went out for half a second.
Prime struck clean and true, and Thunderwing fired every weapon in his arsenal.
…
A plasma beam seared across Prowl’s face and he staggered, releasing Groove and Rutile’s power cables before the shock and pain could reach them. Both chevron and optics were out, the optics melted from their sockets. Raze and Sideswipe with their cohorts closed ranks in front of him and Jazz somersaulted from the cliff above.
"I gotcha, man," Jazz said, sliding his arm under Prowl’s and plugging in an arm cable. Use my visor feed.
He'll be all right, Sideswipe told Raze.
I know, Raze said, grinning.
Prowl and Jazz sailed out like they were waltzing, flanked by Rutile and Groove, shield gun and missiles and butylpotassium gun firing continuously, aiming for places no-one else was, to make Thunderwing’s shields work harder.
Swinging the lance, Thunderwing sent Prime crashing into the canyon wall and continued toward the cave. Violet nucleon ran from the rent in his armor
Secondary spark, Prime broadcast, fighting to stay online as the Allspark closed the hole in his chest. Keep on…. gnnnnaaah… keep firing… Almost have him.
Thunderwing kept firing as well, though his ruined face pointed inexorably to the cave. Thinking Prowl was about to be hit again, Jazz shoved him over. And took the volley himself in the midsection. They went down together, Prowl shouting in pain because Jazz for a moment could not.
At that moment, Perceptor broke through, the light cannon beam passing through armor and protoform, taking out two of Thunderwing’s CPUs. Cyclonus punched his blade through three more before being thrown off and Ultra Magnus, missing a hand and part of an arm and his helm smoking from a close call, got the last two.
We got him! Sideswipe said, too tired to do more than grin.
No… Perceptor grated. He powered down his cannon before Beachcomber fell offline. No, still detecting power generation.
That’s it, Evac said, hauling himself to his feet and staggering over to Thunderwing’s immense and at least briefly inert form. I’ve had it with this thing.
Evac… Bolo began, worried.
Evac shoved his way under Thunderwing’s shoulders, transforming to cometary mode with difficulty, keeping his arms free to hold on.
No, you don’t have to… Prime crawled forward.
Evac took off, pointing himself toward the sunrise. It took light 12.77 minutes to reach Mars from the sun. Evac would take somewhat longer.
Stop him! Blades wasn’t badly damaged, he was sure, but the places he was hit prevented him from transforming, even to cometary mode. He continued to drag Strake toward Lifeline and Catscan’s triage center. All the jets were offline.
Evac knows what he’s doing, Prime thought but did not say. It wouldn’t help.
…
Lennox sat down for the first time since the battle had begun. The whole thing had taken less than an hour. He rubbed his face. “How long?”
“At that speed, uh, another thirty minutes, sir.”
“Okay. If that thing he’s carrying so much as twitches, launch every SDI2 missile in range.”
“Yes, sir.”
…
The cloud mind was oddly silent. No-one wanted to interfere with anything Evac might want to say. There wasn’t much; just private messages to Bolo and Blades, which Bolo accepted quietly. Blades not so much. He knew how to swear in thirty human languages in addition to Cybertronian.
Slag in a can! Death by fusion again! Evac shouted, laughing as the sun filled his vision.
No! Bolo cried, struggling to get up despite the sizable hole in his side. You promised! You promised you would let me go first this time!
Ah, beloved, I'm sorry, sorry... I love y-
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
On Earth, sheltered deep within the Cybertronian Embassy, in growth tank number six, inaudible alarms shrilled across networks already overtaxed with data streaming between those embattled on Mars and anxious watchers on Earth. Mikaela had the codes to get into the med-bay's inner chamber, running past Glyph and the minicons who kept vigil beside Vector Prime and Safeguard.
There was little she could do. Ratchet was up to his shoulders in Springer's chest, was directing triage, as well as keeping a reassuring line open to First Aid and the other Protectobots who were competent field medics but had never seen combat on this scale before. He patched a subroutine in to Mikaela's comm line anyway.
"Are you getting this?" Mikaela said, moving her gaze over the tank readouts and the flashing indicators. She had dialed the plex transparent, but from the outside, the protoform gave no indication of the distress within. The new spark's energy readings had dropped almost to zero for a handful of nanoseconds, and though they had risen again, they had not stabilized completely. "This is Evac and Blades' kid, isn't it." She wanted to ask what was going on up there, but the satellite feeds were grim enough.
Yes. the subroutine's tone was flat and impersonal. Mikaela understood that she was receiving only a tiny fraction of Ratchet's attention. Evac has been deactivated.
"Oh no," she said. I'm glad it wasn't Blades, she thought. She would wrestle her traitorous heart later. The Protectobots were the same age as Dani. "Is...is this related?"
Unclear. Possible. Please increase the energon feed to the tank to 45 millivols per second.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Blades dragged Warpath toward the triage center. He wasn't going to watch Evac fly into the sun. He wasn't. There was work to be done, and Blades couldn't help Evac now. When his spark contracted sharply, he dropped like a core-shot Seeker. Kind of hard on a patient, he thought, when his CPU rebooted. Must remember not to do that again. If he had a little warning he could shoot his articulation locks.
BLADES!
Oh. The gestalt channel had gone incandescent. I'm all right. I think. Hot Spot, don't you dare come over here.
Blades, tell me exactly what happened/Brawn, hold him still until I get the patch in, First Aid said, holding on to calm simply because he had to.
Later. It’s over, I’m fine now.
Of the twenty Sweeps Cyclonus had brought with him, only a handful remained. Withdraw, he commanded. Galvatron must be informed of Prime’s survival.
A Sweep raised his pistol as he climbed to the plateau for an easier launch, taking careful aim at Prime. Wouldn’t hurt to at least make the attempt; he might even be upgraded to Seeker if he succeeded. Something plinked against the gun, not even disturbing his aim much - until the alloys began to smoke and dissolve. Prowl evidently still had some alkali pellets left. The Sweep fled. Followed shortly by Starscream and Skywarp.
“Slaggers,” Sideswipe growled.
“You stay here,” Sunstreaker told his brother. “I’ll go find your arm, or what’s left of it.” He looked at Raze. “You stay, too.”
Ironhide sat down hard and rested his head in his left hand. His right arm and cannon were a mass of melted slag. "If Galvatron was here I'd kick his aft," he said.
"You and me both," Chromia muttered.
Prowl held on to Jazz, to the link, but kept his own pain behind firewalls. The pain gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the idea of using a sun as a weapon. Jazz covered Prowl’s hand on his waist with his own.
"Trochar used to shoot us in the face at low power,” Sideswipe explained, leaning on Raze. “Part of our drills, so we'd know how to handle it."
"Yes, I remember," said Raze. He tipped his head back against Sideswipe’s intact shoulder, optics off.
"You're... you were battalion, weren't you."
"Yes. And that's as much as you're going to get from me, Sides. This life is a second chance for a lot of us, a chance to be what we weren't. Make up for things we...should have done." He laughed. "Especially Bolo and Evac." He laughed harder.
...
“Skyfire!” SKYFIRE! Silverbolt started to run, but the damaged structures in his left leg threatened to give out entirely. The big white jet lay facedown in a glowing pool of energon, unresponsive to hails on any channel. Skydive sprinted ahead, kneeling by Skyfire’s head.
I’m getting energy readings from his spark, Skydive transmitted hurriedly. He’s alive, Bolt, listen! He’s alive. He’s just in stasis lock.
Looks like he bled out, Air Raid said helpfully. Wow. Refueling a line system that size is gonna take a while.
“Shut up!” Fireflight growled. Silverbolt at last reached the fallen delta’s side. Fireflight helped him turn Skyfire over. “Oh slag.”
“Ooo,” said Air Raid. “Yeah, that would about do it. Primus.” Thunderwing had clawed Skyfire’s torso open, four long vertical rents dissecting him like lasers through lead.
Limping, Silverbolt carried Skyfire’s cold body to the triage center.
…
Optimus knelt, holding Bolo’s upper torso carefully, tenderly. “I’m so sorry.”
“She goes where I cannot follow.”
“I know. If there was some way… The Matrix was part of the Allspark once.”
“No matter.” Bolo patted Prime’s hand, then shut off his optics and waited for his turn with the medics.
…
Borealis?
Uuurgh.
Are you all right?
Nnnngh. Yeah, more or less. I think I broke a moon, though. She would have to give Deimos a good long push in just the right direction, or Mars would lose its outer moon in a few years. Dammit, she thought, bastards quit messing up my solar system!
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
The battlefield could be seen from Earth via telescopes, spilled energon unnaturally lighting swathes of the Noctis Labyrinthus. Epps put the end cap on and brought the scope inside. And tried not to think about it until the urge to throw up passed.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Cybertronians do not weep. Lennox went home and Sarah held him through the night as she had often done, while he wept for friends who could not.
<{>~~~<(o)>~~~<}>
Blades, big as he was, couldn't be seen amid the pile of his brothers and the Aerialbots.
Part III
Table of Contents
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