Prologue to Hell - part one

Ah yes. The last in the After Earth series. But a lead on to the next story which will be in the Uprising series.

I'm still working on that. It is very slow but it is, as the title explains, an introduction. No more slow stories after this, all action and fast paced stuff. Promise. But for now, enjoy the last in my series which I have been working on for a year now and draw to a close. Albeit not a proper ending...

The sun’s light flickered in through the cracks in the fractured roof and a cold, but gentle zephyr whirled around him and touched his cheek with its bitter kiss.

The light was of a more golden kind, not the musty, dim glow that filtered in on cloudy days. It brought with it a promising mood for the day ahead, and perhaps was the only thing that would have pulled him out from the surface of slumber he rested on. He sat up slowly, blinking as a beam fell directly into his eyes. The beam of light was spangled with tiny little dust particles, frothing about in its comforting warmth.

He moved back, away from the light and shook broken shards of metal from his back and pieces of glass from his arms. His body ached in contrast to the strangely cosy atmosphere, well, at least as cosy as it would ever get for him.

The old, broken down storage room was like upgrading from a cramped apartment to a nice sized house. Except, for him, it was upgrading from a doorstep to having a roof over his head. But things had always been like that after the Great War…

He wasn’t sure just how long he sat there, his mind astray, but he eventually pulled himself up and stood, eyeing the shabby room carefully.

No one could know of this little section of the world he called his own, for they would surely take it from him, should they discover him.

He strode over to the small window and peered outside. He looked through the dirty alley- way and into the bright sunlight of the street just outside. He could see countless cyber-cars rushing past, all getting on with their worthless, ridiculous lives.

Sad really, they all think they know reality…

He pushed them aside, careful not to make too much of a noise, before slipping outside, and blocking up the hole again with piles of rubbish that had been there for countless years. It was time for breakfast.

He stood still, the stream of light from the exit of the alley-way illuminating his smoggy grey metal and his musty, damp green eyes.

Finally, the flow of traffic bore a gap for him to exit and he began walking towards it, before a rustle diverted his attention.

He spun around too see two red eyes, glowing vibrantly from the shadows to his right.

“Hold your fire! It may be one of us…no Maximal has eyes as malevolent as those…”

The voice of the general echoed in his memory as he drifted into the past for just a moment, back to the Great War. And that little trip back in time really did hold his fire and gave enough time for the bot to step out from the shadows to reveal himself.

“Quick! Bring the medics, we can’t afford to lose him another time, hurry with those repair devices Traxline!”

He narrowed his optics and studied the battle -scarred face of the bot ahead of him.

“Tend to his leg Kyroid, and you, Traxline, clean up that gash on his face! Can you speak Lieutenant? Are you able to? Where are the Maximal right flanks now?”

“Can you speak, Lieutenant? Are you able to?” Traxline said derisively, but softly.

“Ah yes. And do you know where the Maximal right flanks are right now?” He questioned, with a dark, humorous touch to his voice.

Traxline put his gun in his pocket, and smiled an old smile he thought he’d forgotten.

Cleaver chuckled and stepped further into the light, revealing his torn and scarred body, worn down with the years, the youth and freshness of the wounds long since gone.

A deep, inner sadness closed in like a wet cloth around his spark, and he shook his head ever so slightly.

“But then, Traxline, the Great War never was finished properly, it’s still been raging on all around us, every day, and everyone’s aware of it, they just prefer to act as if it doesn’t exist.” Cleaver said, looking at the flow of cyber cars that had started speeding past them again.

“How many are left? How many Predacon rebels, sir?” Traxline asked, a little afraid of the answer. This whole experience of meeting up with a lost, sad memory was rending open old psychological scars that the war had left with him.

He feared the answer most deeply; it was like re-living the horrific after events of the war, all over again.

But the smile that flickered across the Lieutenant’s face was not one of melancholy, but one of warmth and a pleasant kind of knowingness, much like that of a father who watches his son open a gift he thought he’d never get.

“Oh, there are many. So many. Not all the ones you remember, but their children have remained faithful to our cause. I have pleasant news for you, and an offer I hope you’ll take up.”

Traxline was dead still, his mind slowly getting to grips with what had just been said, and trying to understand exactly what the old Lieutenant meant.

Cleaver was quiet for a long time, and you could see in his eyes that he was drifting back into the past, hearing he voices of those long dead screaming above the sound of gunfire. His face was stiff with ancient authority, which he still seemed to carry with him in everything he did, even now.

It was at that moment, a heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders, like a million questions had been answered. Cleaver knew exactly what he felt, and had been feeling for years now. How true, the war has been raging on in his mind for so long…

“And now, my offer. How would you, Sergeant, like to form a balance? For although no one really knows it, we’re on the brink of yet another war, except this time, it’s physical. If you want raw, hard facts, the old rebels have brought about a scattered mass army of Predacons that are hiding in the heart of the cities, waiting for the signal from the top to let them unleash their full power. The Predacon rebels are back, but then, we were never gone. Just out on a particularly long lunch break. So, will you take up my offer, of being promoted to a 2nd lieutenant, to have control of a force of seventy thousand in the city Relentrax and to be re-united with the remaining great leaders? For in less than a month, this city will be crumbling to the ground surrounded by Predacon troops, marching through the streets, ridding themselves of every Maximal they find. Much like Hitler tried with his Storm troopers to rid himself of Jews, except this time, we have leaders who won’t make the same foolish mistakes as he did.”

Traxline was quiet, here he was being offered something he could hardly envisage, and he had only a few seconds to answer. But although he was undecided for a long time, his decision had been made years ago.

“By the time they get here, Cybertron would have fallen to the Predacons. And shortly afterwards, we will enslave earth.”

“It sounds insane, lieutenant.” He said as they turned to the street when a gap in the traffic formed once more. Cleaver grinned.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

A lot can happen in a day. He knew that. But this much? If he thought life was complicated after being upgraded, well…

He hadn’t been able to see clearly after those two burst into his apartment and tried to kill them. Everything had happened so quickly and life became a complicated blur as everything rushed past him. And only for a moment, did time stay still for him, and he was pleased to share what could very well be his last still moment with Tourmaline. She was a great gal. But the minute he left her and walked back into the office, the rushing train of events started again, and as he knew, bad events tend to come in sets.

Rattrap sighed and flung a piece of paper across to the bin, and missed. Life had become even more complicated.

First off, he had Harine telling him Megs was on the loose. Then he called into Dino-butt’s to tell him the peachy news, only to find that he already knew and wound up having to tell him what really happened that night. Then Pop Op buzzed in (After being upgraded thanks to Rhinox, who had recently also been visited by Meg’s Bimbo Brigade who politely left a note on the old guy’s door saying: ‘I know your secret’.) Op had also learnt from Rhinox about the upset in Nystrin and called a meeting for the next day for all of the old Beast Warriors to meet up and discuss the issue. And that was where things stood for now. He knew a war was on its way, if it hadn’t already been started by Tourmaline and Hyra. Gee, Hyra was touchy. What is it with females and having to know every possible secret their friend has? Which eliminates the secret part.

He shook his head and gazed out into the streets. At this very moment, builder machines were hovering around his shattered apartment, building it at a mind boggling pace. It would be good in only another two days. Amazing really, just how quickly the cyber fixers worked. But for now, he was staying at Trilans’s place, which was not at all bad. He actually owned a house, well, shared it with his sister. It was small, but simple and sweet. Clean, organised – things Rattrap had only been when Tourmaline came over. Usually his place looked like a slagheap. Although Tour didn’t physically clean up his place before it was scrapped, she did, through him, add a women’s touch.

Talk about being desperate to impress a potential mate! Primitive, if you think about it.

“Hey Rattrap. How’s life?” Trilans said as he walked into the small lounge with a mug of something hot. He gave it to him.

Trilans shrugged and walked over to the television. He switched it on and the first images that greeted them were ones of some kind of interview. It was an earth channel, CNN, being screened in place of one of the hundreds of channels Nystrin Television had. Larry King Live was on, and Larry it seemed, was interviewing the Maximal Head of the High Council, Axterbeam Heliotrope. (Why Larry is still alive? Cell replenishment. They can make you live to 400 now!)

“Heh! Now that’s somethin’ you don’t see everyday.” Rattrap commented. He was no fan of humans, nor their TV channels, and he only watched Larry King sometimes to laugh at them all. Like some watch Wrestling, even when they know it is a load of… well that was just his opinion.

“So, you’re telling me that your planet, despite having their differences settled and the Great War won, is hanging by a thin thread, and that they are more than likely going to slip into another war?” Larry questioned.

The red and orange, heavily armoured and gold plated leader stiffened up, but looked uncomfortable. Rattrap could understand, he knew humans were pushy.

“I’m not ready to say anything on the matter. People back home are watching this, and I don’t want to cause any disturbance. I am merely saying that these happenings in Relentrax, Nystrin and Yulst are a result of instability. What we need to do is get in control again, and stop the unrest, before it turns into something drastic.”

Rattrap narrowed his optics, struggling to understand the English. He tried not to read the translation writing below the screen. He was trying to learn the language because he should know it, as a Universal journalist. It was a difficult, and all together strange language with non-existent rules. He hated it, but tried nonetheless.

Trilans leant closer. He knew English well, and that irritated the hell out of Rattrap.

“I don’t mean to stretch the issue. But if Cybertron does get into another war, we are automatically dragged into it. Now we are fighting wars all over our own planet, so fighting over there would have a major impact.”

“You’ll have to use a lot of military power, thus diverting your attention to our planet’s war, and not your own. Russians, Americans, Africans, Israelis, Palestinians, they’ll all be fighting side by side, differences forgotten.”

Trilans sighed, slipped a tape in and pressed record. He then turned off the television, sat down and turned on his laptop and started typing away.

Rattrap smirked slightly. Trilans was obviously annoyed with him and was also obviously very concerned about the whole issue. Rattrap knew it was real; he was part of one of the ‘happenings’ as Axterbeam put it.

He got up, still smiling and headed toward the kitchen, passing the open room of Silver Star, Trilan’s sister, and glimpsed the TV, which too was showing Larry’s concerned and apprehensive face. He walked away wearing a grin. But behind that smile was a growing sense of unease…

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It was silent. So silent it was almost deafening. But then, you are deaf if there is no sound. The world was dark, very dark, and cold. And the fact that she could feel cold was perhaps the only thing that convinced her she was alive. Deaf and blind, what a terrible thought. And she was living it…

Well then, perhaps it was the steady flow of mech fluid flowing through her head and the air tightened her chest with its bitter scaffold. She felt the cold puddles of fluid seep into her feet leaving them numb. On she walked, almost in slow motion. The fear choking her, tighter and tighter. She swallowed hard and her heart, there it was again, she could feel it, beat faster. Suddenly there was a screech so loud it cracked the air and in a fear powered response she dived down and skidded in the mucky liquid holding her hands over her ears. The whistling noise grew ever louder until it stopped. The moment of silence before the roaring explosion was perhaps the most awful noise ever heard. But the explosion soon knocked any thought out of her as her world became a shattering dwelling of metal and cement all cascading like liquid over her and then there was nothing.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there. Deaf, blind, maybe dead for a while. But what she did know was that now she was breathing, fighting the things that crushed her lungs and squashed her diaphragm. With renewed fear she suddenly realised her breaths were shortening and in an adrenaline powered movement she heaved up and dust and rocks tumbled from her body. And this time, she could see them. She sat up, coated in a thin layer of grey dust, blinking into a pale afternoon light that shone through the end of the tunnel ahead of her. Daylight, something of comfort, of warmth…

She pulled with her cut and bruised hands the pieces of debris strewn over her foot. And it was then that everything fell into place. Her hand was bleeding, and it was bleeding through dusty skin warm, sticky red blood. She would have gasped in fright and shock if she had the strength, but all she could do was look at herself. Covered in shredded clothes, slit and cut from head to toe. Her white calcium bones almost penetrating through her skin they were so knocked out of place. And seeing that disgusted and frightened her out of her wits. She looked shakily up, putting her hand on her forehead to smear the blood away from her eyes.

Ahead of her was miles and miles of smouldering rubble. A thick, disintegrating cloud rising in the distant of an enormous size. A sea of debris, ash and scrap lay strewn in heaps for miles. A whole city, squashed by a single explosive. Sirens wailed still in the distance, so far, so hopeless. She shook her head slowly, trying to dismiss the devastation. It was then she could hear crying, whimpering and a moment later, a human child not more than three feet came staggering into the tunnel mouth, dusty tears streaming from her little red eyes. Her skin peeled and limp, hanging in rags from her thin, thin body. She was filthy, cut like herself and crying in agony she had never witnessed. And it was then she felt hot tears come running down her cheeks and her heart lurched and felt more painful than anything else on her torn body.

The child, her hands clamped around her neck, took a few steps and she held her hand up to her, whispering hoarsely for her to come. The child suddenly fell, collapsed to the ground and her hands fell from her neck and the blood poured and poured. The white little bones from her throat spilled out onto the floor and her eyes rolled up in defeat. She kicked a few times before finally settling in her ash-covered grave.

Diamond sat up in her bed and wept. She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t breath. Her surroundings, her warm cosy room, formed around her and her mind registered them calmly, but still she sobbed. A dream, no, a nightmare. A terrible, terrible nightmare.

She gasped and held her metallic hands up and saw her grief stricken expression.

She sat there, gasping for air even though she didn’t have to breath it, her brain still half registered her as human and she breathed like there was no tomorrow. And maybe, she thought duly, there wasn’t. She shook her head and glanced at the floor beside her bed. There lay the book, the book that she had nodded off to sleep reading and things settled into place. The book was the human history book of the Second World War she had taken out from the library. She had been reading it as a matter of interest, and that interest, it seemed, had followed her into her dreams in shocking realism. Despite the dream being all muddled up, and probably incorrect factually, it was based upon what she was reading all right, and had become her dream.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Sorry Megatron, but no luck in finding her. Are the scanners still not picking up her signature?” He asked, shivering a little from the cold that was still with him from being outside.

Megatron sighed and shook his head. Kismet was missing and that was not a good thing. She was, after all, part of the bargain with the General.

He nodded, his chest heaving from the huge amount of patrolling he’d just done.

“You know, I wish I was a proper transformer, who had a vehicle mode and all that stuff. Then patrolling would be sooo much easier. Or a flight mode.” He muttered as he continued down the hallway past Megatron. He was indirectly saying ‘give me an upgrade!’ Kyroid was a killer, not a scout, so for him to be taking this so lightly, well, there was always a motive behind it, wasn’t there?

“Uh, yes, well, if you prove truthful and faithful to your leader at all times, maybe I can arrange that.” He said, watching him closely.

Kyroid smiled falsely and continued on down, soon disappearing into the shadows. Megatron growled and headed for make do laboratory where Tarantulas was finishing off the last little details on the up-grader.

He knew that he was surrounded by killers, blood thirsty and cold killers, and that in a sense made him feel he didn’t fit in with them. He’d never murdered someone without a cause, or at least not yet. However, he was to be involved now in mass slaughter, which made him just as cold and vindictive as all of them. Strange really.

He was just about to turn into the lab when there was a beep from his COM link. He put it to his ear and listened.

“Be at the forest centre, by the lake where details will be delivered to you. Your troops are treacherous, so I suggest you come personally. I am Firetron, messenger from General Pernicious. I will meet you in half a megacycle.”

This message meant that he was now going to see this whole thing he was getting himself into in physical material. It would no longer just be a phone call, it would justify real, if only slightly.

He turned into the lab and saw Tarantulas lying under the propped up machine, working carefully. There were hundreds of little cyber bugs screwing and hammering on various parts of it. They were his secret to finishing such monstrosities so quickly.

Asphyxiate was there too, handing him tools and working on polishing the glass of the chamber.

Megatron thought about it for a while. It would still be a while, yes, but rushing the spider meant he might make mistakes, and the last thing he needed were angry customers returning to him with a fist full of broken screws and bolts. And a furious General. So he would give Tarantulas five days. It was for the best.

Megatron sighed and left the two to bicker. He too had a terrible headache.

He tuned into Blight’s comm. to see if the spy had picked up anything of importance during his scout through the city. Blight’s orders were to seek out the homes and work places of his old enemies. He may or may not pay them a visit, but nevertheless, it is always handy to know where the prey like to hang out…

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The air was bitterly cold; it always was in the early morning. But she didn’t feel it. No, she was as warm as fire, moving swiftly through the streets, in and out of the shadows. Heading to her destination. The diamond shaped crystal on her forehead glowed beautifully, a shimmering turquoise, then a soft purple, to a vibrant red, and back again. It always glowed when she used her powers. And she was using them now, just to keep warm. Now she had half her amulet back, she craved the other half. But the hunt was on as to where it was being held, and she had a strong idea as too where to start.

Kismet, the seer child of fate, moved like the wind through the darkened streets of the little town called Nystrin. It wasn’t like the big cities, there wasn’t a constant flow of traffic all day and all night. At this time of morning, the streets were dark and quiet, and the town was asleep. Cybertron had few of these small towns, which was sad really. She always loved that feeling of closeness, not the vast lost sensation of being in a city with so many strange faces and people. Which was her Maximal side showing through, and she hated it. She hated that slight feel of insecurity, despite being so powerful. She could escape death easier than anyone, but still carried that burden of subconscious fear. And she never knew why.

She’d killed a bot called Vultrexin, keeper of the half amulet she had gained once she escaped from prison. When they locked her away, they took her amulet, the container of her power, which only she could use. They split it in half and stored it away separately, in case she ever did get out. Without her powers, she was an average transformer, but with it, she was an asset to anyone who craved power.

The lights were on in the building she thought the keeper of the second half was inhabiting. And that didn’t mean anything, she could retrieve it whether he was there or not. She had no idea why she suspected Merel, and old Maximal soldier she was friends with, long ago in the war, would have it. But her half amulet had led her here, which had to mean something. Funny, she didn’t even know she had these powers until she was a Predacon. She’d had little time to practice them before she was caught trying to steal the disks. She came up to the door and looked around to see if anyone was watching her.

She closed her eyes and felt her body turn bitterly, bitterly cold and she gradually became lighter and lighter, as if her whole form was disintegrating. All feeling disappeared and she was nothing, but everything.

She opened her eyes and all she could see was a hazy blue door, with a lighter blue light in the shape of windows. She moved forward, to the keyhole and slipped inside, as a gust of wind. Becoming air was not something she liked to do, she felt almost dead, but it was an easy way to get inside buildings, undetected. One of her powers...

She saw the room as a multitude of blues and dark purples, so finding her turquoise amulet was going to be difficult. She heard the sound of a distant TV and turned to see the flickering of light on the wall to her left. She swerved to her right to see an open door, and a room beyond it. In the room she could see a figure, sitting on a couch, quietly watching the multitude of flickering lights in the dimly lit room. Although hazy, she could make it out to be Merel. Something made her feel suddenly sad, seeing him there, a remainder of her past. He was part of a world that had been taken from her, so many years ago. And although a Predacon now, she still had no urge to hurt him, or frighten him in any way. And she knew for certain, that was her Maximal side shining through, and for once, it had gained the upper hand. It was like her core was Maximal, and her shell Predacon, and her core was weeping every time she came into contact with her past. Which is why she swiftly turned away, and headed down the hallway, unable to settle back with memories and emotions she’d tried so hard for so long, to banish from her mind.

She let her half amulet lead her, and its force was growing ever stronger. She was getting closer, she could feel it. She moved into a room, a bedroom, and travelled over a table, ruffling some papers as she went. She swirled around the table, and entered the drawers, searching with eerie infra – blue vision. Papers, pens, disks. No amulet. She left the drawer and entered another drawer. This time she found a solid form, a box, with a code lock fastened to its lid. It was sealed shut, no place for air to enter and leave.

But her heart was pounding and the urge to open it was so strong, it was overwhelming. She left the drawer and floated outside, and gradually became whole again. Her hands appeared before her, and they were so cold, as was the rest of her, as it formed. She placed her hands on her cheeks and her body warmed up. Her inner firepower was pretty much used as an after effect when she became air. She put her hand over the handle to the drawer, but it was locked. Frustrated, she put her finger around the lock and fried it to a crisp. She pulled on the handle and it opened, revealing the box. There was a little screen on the lid, accompanied by a few numerical buttons, where the code was supposed to be typed. Such a primitive lock to hold something so powerful. She’d thought they’d take better precautions when hiding it from her. She put her finger on the screen and fried it too, sending off little sparks as she did so.

“Oops.” She whispered sarcastically. The lid flung open and there, lying on a velvet pillow, was her half amulet. She smiled and picked it up, holding it in front of her. Her chest plated opened and her two protective shields around her spark pulled away. There, beside her spark was the half amulet, and without warning, the half she held shot into her and joined with the other half. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel strange. It was like having an incredible adrenaline rush, and she felt as her shields closed and her chest plate came down and fastened shut, that she could do anything. Which wasn’t true, she was no god, but she was an element of one.

With a victorious smile, she formed into wind, and slipped through the partially open window, and out into the fading night sky. She had completed the first part of the puzzle to gain ultimate control on the lives of the Cybertronians; now all she had to do was find the other three pieces, the other three people…

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Tourmaline sat at the table, tapping her fingers and watching Hyra move about swiftly in the kitchen. She was busy putting things into the clean bar and wiping clean the appliances that decorated the kitchen. Hyra, it seemed, had assumed the roll of housewife when she wasn’t at training. Dinobot hadn’t asked her, and often told her not to bother, but she was stubborn and he soon gave in and enjoyed the extra time.

Tourmaline shook her head with a smile. Yesterday morning they had been at each other’s throat, but with a few slight lies and a sharp sentence here and there, she had ended it. She closed her eyes and remembered bits and pieces of it. Although the dreaded moment had passed, her mind was stuck on replay.

“Where’s this guy from? Hashlyn? That’s so typical of you Tourmaline, sticking up for the scum of the earth as usual.”

“I saw you two outside, Tourmaline. And you kissed him with all the passion you could ever muster. That wasn’t a peck on the lips, as you put it. That was full blown ‘thanks for the great night’ smuckeroo!”

It was at that stage Tourmaline decided to end the fight and had grabbed Hyra and shook her still.

“Listen to me! Rattrap and I are close friends. We’ve shared the odd drink, had the occasional kiss and shared the same room. But that’s it! Now I can honestly promise you, with all my heart, that nothing happened that night. Nothing. The floor wasn’t comfortable enough for him, so he crawled into the bed when I wasn’t looking. But besides that, absolutely nothing happened.”

Hyra had calmed down a bit and looked down at the floor and was silent for a while. Then she had looked up with perhaps a faint trace of a smile.

And that was where it ended. Thank Primus. Hyra, she knew, was just looking out for her as a friend. She was also not a very difficult person once you knew how to calm her and soften her up. But the tension, sadly, had not ended there. Shortly afterwards Hyra had explained to her about Megatron, his escape and what he may be up to and the sickly feeling of anxiety came back as swiftly as it had disappeared.

“Have you contacted Rattrap lately?” Hyra asked suddenly, and turned to face her, cloth in hand.

“No, but I should, just so that he knows you and I are OK, and that I wasn’t the first casualty of the New War!” She exclaimed.

She picked up her sword and her keys to her cyber car, and looked nostalgically at the key ring, an image of her home city on it.

Tourmaline nodded, but in truth she wasn’t all that excited to go back. She liked the little town, its friendliness, the training, and the cute little shops. And then there was Rattrap…

Hyra shook out of her memories and went outside, and Tourmaline followed. But as she approached the exit she heard a whisper and she turned around quickly to see nothing. The house was suddenly silent and still, although the objects within seemed almost alive. She looked around and listened intently. Golden shafts of morning sunlight poured in through cracks in the blinds like glowing ghosts and even though it was day, she felt a shiver go through her. She turned away and closed the door, glad to be outside amongst people. Whispers, an after effect from the shock she had taken yesterday night. Must have been.

She shook her head and got into the car with Hyra, Diamond and Dinobot. But as they drove away she could have sworn she saw movement inside the house. But again she shook it away and blamed it on her imagination. But if there was one thing she had learnt from being a detective, it was that small details should never be neglected.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

He’d gone into the forest, half expecting a Maximal ambush when he saw the lone Predacon, waiting patiently by the small lake. And the news that Predacon gave him, was astounding. Megatron had learnt from him that an attack was planned in exactly seven days time. All the Predacon rebels would, all at the same time that night, turn on every Maximal in sight. Before hand, certain buildings would have been rigged with bombs and would be timed to go off at the exact moment the attack occurred. This would happen at 20 major Maximal cities, all over Cybertron. Though Nystrin wasn’t a major city, it had in it some very important Maximal politicians that even the Maximals wouldn’t mind being blown to bits. The weapons and bombs were being supplied secretly by the Predacon military bases. Megatron’s job was to take his tiny group and cause a little havoc at a certain place in Nystrin, which would divert the town’s police force to that area, allowing the bomb riggers to do their job just that little bit easier. He was to try at all costs not to lose any of his men, as his troops consisted of some of the most famous rebels of all time, and to lose them would be a shame. After the town had been destroyed, he was to move his troops to the Predacon rebel base at Quantile, a pretty much Predacon populated city up north. From there instructions would be given to him as to where he would go next. It very much depended on the success of the attacks. Cloaked ships would transport his men from place to place, for ultimate protection. You cannot kill what you cannot see, not totally true, but the idea of being invisible was at least a comfort.

The details were given to him quickly and sharply and he was given an email address in case there were any problems. He was given a code name of Perpetually Transpiring, which fitted him quite well, he thought. Well, at least it would feel that way for the Axalon crew, who he was going to get revenge on, one way or another.

That is, if they weren’t killed in the Nystrin havoc, that wouldn’t be any fun. But then again, he knew how hard they were to kill, especially Optimus Primal, who also fitted ‘Perpetually Transpiring’. He was impossible to kill! As well as that vermin Rattrap, who also always seemed to give him the slip.

But all these matters would soon be resolved and that was a goal he had long awaited to achieve. Now all he had to do was wait and plan. And doing that was a task Megatron had long since grown accustomed to.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Cheetor sat up and blinked. He had fallen asleep again, and now that he had awoken, he had come to the harsh reality that he had fallen asleep at the computer again. Mugs of hot energon now sitting cold with a thin layer of froth over the surface. Mugs. Washing up. House a mess. Computer program unfinished.

He sighed and rubbed his head. He’d been using the keyboard as a pillow, which explained the small square like dents on his forehead. The air around him was stuffy and unwelcoming as he felt like he could go back to sleep right then and there.

He sat up again and switched off the computer, and awful feeling of mental weariness settling over him. Over 16 years ago he’d thought he’d seen the last of the purple tyrant. But Megatron was like an annoying echo, he had been right throughout the Beast Wars. And by thinking that once put behind the bars of the heavily guarded Relentrax Prison under hours of surveillance was going to hold him back was…

He flipped through the pages til he found today’s date and realised with a flicker of glee that he was going in to get upgraded this morning.

Rhinox had built this transmetal machine and he would be third in line to use it.

And the nice thing is, he thought and smiled weakly, was that he would be able to show off his new mode to all his old friends.

He shrugged. He hadn’t seen her in a while. She’d been so busy with all the war training. And she was leaving for Dudier soon.

He sighed again with renewed inner sadness and fatigue.

She was going to be a long way away from all the chaos, but that still didn’t make her safe from being Megatron’s next target.

He has a knack for hitting them all where it hurts the most.

He shook his head and walked out of the room towards the exit of the house.

No point in worrying over everything.

Things will all turn out all right in the end.

But somehow, that didn’t seem to comfort him.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

Tourmaline handed Dinobot another sword. They were at the training centre very early this morning, and Dinobot was already setting up, taking out swords and laser guns. It was one of the last practices Diamond would have before she went to the duels, which were originally going to be held down here, at this very centre. But since the outbreak of the prison, bots were worried about the safety of the youngsters that came down here to fight, so the duels were now being held in Dudier, on the other side of Cybertron. Which was a shame; it might mean Dinobot would miss it, especially with the whole Megatron thing, which he’d explained to her. But he hadn’t explained the real incident that happened in Rattrap’s apartment yet to Hyra. If Hyra knew that’d she’d lied to her about the whole ‘Rattrap and I were out for the night’ thing, well…

She was going to have to tell her soon, for her safety, but how she was going to tell her, she had yet to think on.

The training was starting early, as Dinobot had to go off to a meeting with all the Axalon crew later that day, so all training would take place ‘til lunch.

She was so tired; she hadn’t slept pretty much all night the day before, and she had to get up so early this morning, shortening her night. She sighed and picked up a sword, and swung it around in a tricky little manoeuvre she had only recently gotten to grips with. To think, she only had two weeks left before she had to go back to Relentrax. Two months was too short, and had gone so quickly.

She watched Hyra and Diamond battle with their light laser guns on minimum power so that they wouldn’t hurt each other. They were laughing and squealing, ducking and diving. Hyra was giggling like her old self again, and that lifted a bit of the bad mood she had from the lack of sleep. She shook her head with a smile as she watched the two run around like lunatics in the bluish light of the early morning.

“She looks so ridiculous scampering around like that.” He remarked, mainly to himself. She shook her head.

He seemed to understand the underlining meaning of what she said, almost as if he could see right through her. He nodded gently and turned to finish unpacking.

She wasn’t very close to her, but she liked her personality, her energy. She was so full of potential and had a bit of magic about her, like some kind of positive vibe.

Gradually the stands filled and before she knew it, the first practices took place. She didn’t have to wait long until it was her group that was up, and she was learning new defensive moves without weapons, which were the most important, because in her field, she often couldn’t have weapons with her when doing her job. She learnt how to break fingers, arms, legs, necks and feet, and how to swerve and roll in a certain style. As well as land in a way that would prevent her from hurting herself too much should she be thrown or kicked. She enjoyed learning most of it, except the part where she was thrown and had to practice landing correctly. That was a bit unnerving! Dinobot was a good tutor, no question. He had with him much war experience, and told her that in most situations, he learnt the hard way. She didn’t want to begin to even imagine the hard way of learning some of the moves she did…

The morning went so quickly and soon the stands were emptying as Dinobot hurried them out, as he needed to leave for his meeting. She could see Diamond getting a little anxious. She was leaving in two days times to go to Dudier and this chunk out of her training day wasn’t making her feel any better. And Tourmaline felt sorry for her, but in truth, she was glad the day ended shortly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like training; it was just that she was so tired, and needed to get back to Dinobot’s place to catch some rest. She was going to have to stay there until some other arrangement was made. She didn’t mind sleeping on a small mattress on the floor, but she did prefer a bed. But for now, the floor would do, she was too tired to care.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Optimus waited impatiently in the old clubhouse. He had stayed in Nystrin overnight, which meant he hadn’t seen Snow Crystal and hadn’t warned her about their current worry. He hadn’t been able to contact her, there was no answer at her apartment and the Air Base’s phone line was always engaged. He had enough on his mind, and this thing with Megatron was not helping. But his worried thoughts were interrupted when Rattrap came in, and he had to admit, he looked really ‘cool’ in his new form.

“Hey, boss monkey, you look jazzy!” He commented as he eyed him up and down.

“Same goes for you, although this whole thing came at a cost, so I’ve heard.”

“Damn Preds messin’ up my place, and ta tall ya da honest truth, I was dere, and I blew ’em up coz dey were gonna kill me and my girl. Course, I didn’t want to be involved with da police, so I stayed at a motel, and when dey found us, I pretended I knew nuthin’. That’s what really happened, in a nutshell.”

“Okay. So they came in looking for the up-grader, and threatened to kill you if you didn’t give it to them.”

“Yup, and I didn’t have it, I really had no choice.” He said and sat down on the dusty bench beside him.

Optimus nodded, he understood why Rattrap did what he did, and pretty much why he stayed away from the police. When he signed him up to the Axalon, he had a good look at his background, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Dinobot, good to see you again. I’m sorry we had to meet again on such unpleasant terms, but there’s really nothing we can do about it.” Optimus sighed.

It was then Cheetor and Rhinox walked in, Cheetor had just been upgraded, you could see by the way he was trying to hide his proud smile. But there was a sense of urgency and nervousness behind those still youthful optics of his.

The five of them all stared at each other, full of comments and questions, but knowing it was not the time to ask.

Optimus finally broke the silence with the news of what had really happened, with Rattrap adding in the occasional detail.

Rhinox and Cheetor were surprised at just how serious it was, especially Cheetor.

“It’s not a joke. Rattrap and his friend were almost killed, and the fact that they came that close means there could be trouble for all of us. With Megatron out on the loose, things could start going haywire very soon. We should stick together, isolation, we’ve witnessed, is what they look for. Now we all can’t just pack up and leave for a little village away from here. We know that, but while we’re here, we’re targets and so is everyone around us. I think for now, we should keep in close contact and be very alert. Make sure that your loved ones are safe, and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. For now all we can really do is keep our eyes peeled for Megatron, and when we find him, stop him, at all costs.”

“What a speech! But we’ve got da message. No ways is Mega jerk ruining my life; I’ve had it with stinkin’ Preds doing dat ta me. I don’t know about all of you, but I aint takin’ no more slag from him, and his peanut gallery.”

They all nodded quietly and there was a blanket of worry and uneasiness over all of them. But at least they knew they were not alone.

Cheetor looked like he wanted to say something, to get some worry off his chest, but he kept withdrawing every time he opened his mouth.

This worried Optimus slightly, but he chose not to pick on small things for now.

Rhinox explained to them all about the message on his door, and this seemed to disturb Cheetor quite a lot.

Everyone gave each other their contact numbers and addresses a promised Optimus to contact him should anything happen.

No one had much to say, and soon all of them left, with Dinobot staying behind to discuss something or other with the old leader.

And as they all left, they felt as if they were retracing their steps, and the saying ‘history always repeats itself’ kept ringing in their heads.