Dividing Line
PG-10 (Language)
It was times like these that reminded him how much he liked water. The cool (or warm) feel of moisture on his exterior armor, the silence, the seclusion. He was one of very few robots graced with an underwater alternate mode, and this oftentimes allowed him a few megacycles of the glorious privacy that he seemed to crave more and more.
Depth Charge’s twin propeller blades sliced through the salty water of Gorinset. It had been two days since he’d landed on this Primus forsaken alien inhabited dustball, and he still had no leads. None of the creatures he had questioned had seen a robot in years, it seemed. So where is he now?
The aquatic Maximal sighed inwardly. X had disappeared from his scanners over a week ago, and Depth Charge didn’t know where to look next. His above-cockpit highbeams flicked on, blazing his way through the dark water. A large marine alienoid crossed his path, sickly sallow eyes narrowed in the sudden harsh light. It appeared to the Maximal that the reptilian might attack the object of its irritation, but the native spied the loaded torpedo vents on either side of Depth Charge’s cockpit and re-thought that notion. Instead it stared for another second, then swam into the black abyss.
The submarine’s tail yawed to the right and his nose swung left to avoid a large clump of greenish seaweed. Depth Charge’s buoyant metal body continued in its new direction as he sped along the rocky sea floor, his systems scanning the environment every few nanos. The fallen guardian’s cybernetic brain learned and documented more about this organic planet in a few scans than any human could in the course of a lifetime. Of course, humans lived for such a short amount of time -- the Maximal couldn’t fathom living for a mere eighty years. He was already somewhere close to four million stellar-cycles old: by human standards, that would put him around the age of twenty-seven.
Too young to feel so old.
The scans paused as his propellers ground suddenly, then stopped altogether. Depth Charge cursed openly at the seaweed congesting his propulsion systems and attempted to dislodge the incapacitating vegetation as he sank to the ocean bottom. The Maximal heard a muffled thump as his belly hit the floor. And this, an ocean-goers greatest foe, Depth Charge thought bitterly as his blades grated and swiveled against the kelp.
With a sigh, the massive submarine shifted modes. Or at least, he tried to. Gears and gyros screeched, sending fish scurrying for cover, and it came as a surprise to Depth Charge that he had not changed. In his attempts to free himself, it appeared that he’d done the opposite and only tangled himself worse. In submarine mode the Maximal remained, crippled on the bottom of some ocean on some dive of an organic planet that no one in this universe knew about. To make things worse, the ocean’s currents were pushing more kelp his way. Depth Charge’s epidermis prickled as the slimy plant growth caught in his tail end slid towards his cockpit, leaving an unearthly coating of green muck over his teal armor. Now THAT is a great feeling..
The Maximal’s systems went on alarm as his port-side water vent sucked in a ball of the weed, instantly crippling the apparatus’ ability to function. The transformer’s panic increased as his right filter suffered a similar fate. Oxygen intake halted. His metal lungs gasped and strained, spasming in an attempt to expel the obstruction, but the plant, it seemed, was hopelessly lodged.
Depth Charge’s highbeams began to dim as his spark pulse slowed. Was this how he was supposed to die? No. No, it wasn’t. X was still out there, stalking and killing. He couldn’t die here! He had to stop X! Four cycles ticked by, and by then he was so deprived of oxygen that he couldn’t recognize his own voice moaning into the dark water. He had survived an attack on his home, his colony, had been the only survivor, and he was going to die via an ill-placed ball of seaweed. High-powered lights finally went out, shrouding the dying Maximal in complete blackness. His filters coughed once more, one last-ditch attempt to save himself...
Oh, Lazuli....I’m sorry.....I failed you not once, but twice...Poseidon...
...so..so sorry....
Suddenly his starboard filter cleared and he sucked inward, drawing water into it like a vacuum. The Maximal heard himself gasping as he began to return to consciousness. Depth Charge vaguely realized that he was not alone, that there was a hand in his left water vent. The hand grasped seaweed, fingers working feverishly to unplug the passage. To save his life. Save his life?
The teal submarine’s nuclear-powered engine sputtered, then hummed to life; his small cockpit light glowed eerily in the dark, making his metal skin glow. Depth Charge could hear a voice, now, talking to him, cursing at him. Water flooded his left oxygen duct and he heard himself wheezing.
"Hello? Maximal?"
Someone was knocking on the glass of his cockpit. It made a strange, metallic clack. "What...?"
"Ah, good. You are back online. Sort of."
The red and white female watched as the enormous teal undersea vessel came back to life. She’d seen her target laboring for breath on the ocean floor and had been obligated to help. She couldn’t’ve just let him die. At first it appeared that the robot was too far gone, too oxygen deprived to come back, but that quite obviously wasn’t the case. The Cybertronian female sauntered around to the submersibles rear end and began to pick at the kelp tangled about its rotor blades, humming to herself. "You survived a direct attack by Protoform X himself and you were going to die like this? I can see the death certificate now: Cause of death: Kelp. Pitiful, Guardian."
Depth Charge’s optic grid snapped online and his highbeams activated. "Who are you?" he growled lowly, bass voice rasping black as the ocean currents.
"My name is unimportant." The oddly British-sounding female said. "However, my mission is not."
The teal submarine remained silent. Mission? The hands continued pulling on the slimy seaweed immobilizing him. Depth Charge couldn’t see back there, but scans told him she was a Maximal. He watched another ball of plant growth float ominously by. Evil...evil vegetation... The Maximal male tested his propellers, spinning them.
"It would do you good to refrain," the femme warned coolly, "or I’ll have no choice but to drag your carcass back to Cyberton all trussed up in seaweed."
"What makes you think you’re dragging me to Cybertron?" Depth Charge asked, irritated -- and intrigued. "I don’t even know who you are."
The female sighed and walked around to his front, shielding her emerald optics against his brights. She wasn’t exactly dainty, standing at about fourteen or so feet tall, and mainly red and white in color. Not bad looking, either. She flicked her wrist into subspace and withdrew a small, square identification card. The screen lit up even underwater. "I am Agent Virtue. I have been sent by the Council to retrieve you and deliver you back to Cybertron by any means possible."
If Depth Charge had possessed a face in submarine mode there was no doubt the look it would have sported would have been amused disbelief. "Oh, really?" he chuckled.
Agent Virtue nodded, "Therefore, I am placing you under arrest."
"Charges?" The massive Maximal tried his props again.
"A few counts of grand theft, insubordinance, treason...the usual." the Council’s agent said casually.
So she’s a bounty hunter. Depth Charge dimmed his highbeams a bit and transformed to robot mode when Agent Virtue asked him to. Blood-red eyes bore down at the femme and her stoic malachite gaze met his without fear. She seemed....bored. "The Maximal High Council has requested that I inform you of an offer they’ve made. If you surrender and return in my custody without a fuss and get psychological help upon your return, High Elder Nazarius has agreed to drop the charges against you." Virtue paused a bit, almost for effect, before bringing out a pair of energon binding cuffs. "In other words, you go back, talk to a therapist for a few decacycles, and you’re free. Okay? Right as rain, Maximal."
"Right as rain?" the guardian rumbled, eyeing the shackles. "Is Colony Omicron right as rain? Is Starbase Rugby right as rain?!"
Virtue sighed, "That is not of my concern, Depth Charge. So, am I bringing you in the easy way, or the really, really hard way?" The female flashed him a cocky smirk.
But the hunter wasn’t even listening. He was watching the femme, studying her. At the mention of Rugby and Omicron she had tensed. Swirling in her impassive emerald optics he saw pain, loss. The exact same pain and loss that he was sure his own gaze reflected. "You know why I’m here, don’t you?" It was more of a statement than a question, but he received an answer anyway.
"Yes. You’re looking for..Protoform X. It was in my briefing."
There! That hesitation!
The fallen guardian crossed his arms over his massive chest as Virtue continued, "A brave, albeit suicidal, search for a killer." Hatred.
Hatred in her gaze! "You’re a victim, aren’t you?" he ventured quietly.
"Excuse me?" This had caught her off guard.
"I’m not stupid nor blind." Pause. "He hurt you in some way."
"I am not a victim! What he did was--!" Virtue snapped, stopping herself, then took a step closer to him. "Surrender yourself, renegade. I’ve got orders to fulfill."
Depth Charge seemed to smile. Females were so prone to emotional breakdowns. He thought he would play a little game with this femme.. "Tell you what. You can take me in without a fuss....if you can catch me."
With that, the guardian turned on his heel and took off into the darkness.
****
Laughing quietly to no one, the massive Maximal hoisted himself out of the polluted water onto the rocky shore. Moonlight glinted dully off of Depth Charge’s slime-covered armor as he stalked back towards his ship, a starhopper by the name of Asteric Six. The ship he stole. Grand theft spacecruiser.
Inside it was thousands of credits worth of tracking equipment. Grand theft, possession of illegal tracking systems.
Inside his chest was hundreds of credits worth of even MORE tracking equipment. *Sigh* Grand theft, possession of illegal tracking systems and illegal installation of said systems, harassment / death threats.
Predictably, that wasn’t it. The list really DID go on and on.
Depth Charge decided with finality as he climbed into the cockpit that there was no returning to Cybertron. He didn’t care what Elder Nazarius said; it was all lies anyway. He was officially a criminal and nothing he said or did could change that.
The hunter’s silver fingers reached up and pulled the canopy down, shrouding himself in the dark security of the ship he called home. The little vessel was cozy, with just enough room to keep him from feeling claustrophobic but also small enough to give him a sense of protection. The Asteric Six’s console lit up. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere -- not tonight. He hadn’t let himself recharge in three days, and he desperately needed the sleep.
The submarine-bot tapped a few commands onto a few select buttons on the computer console infront of him: the ship locked, tracking systems set to alert him of any Cybertronian presence -- not just X -- in the area, and an alarm activated to rouse him at sunrise.
He knew what sleep would bring. Sleep would bring back the haunting nightmares, the screams, the mech-fluid. Sleep would bring back his family in their dying moments, memories of massacre. He tried to push those images from his mind as he began to drift, optics dimming, systems shutting down one by one for a well-deserved and well-needed rest cycle. He saw Lazuli’s face as shutdown took over and drowned his world into darkness.
****
ACCURSED RENEGADE!
Agent Virtue paced on the shore, head down, hand cupping her chin in angry thought. Her target had escaped. He had disappeared from her scanners and she had no idea why or how. The Council’s offer was off. Now she had permission to bring him back dead or alive.
She was betting on the former.
****
The hunter vaulted forward. He’d heard something.
It took him a cycle to realize that the ringing inside the starhopper’s cockpit was a scream. His scream. Another nightmare.
Depth Charge slumped back into the seat, feeling the odd material mold to the shape of his back. He suppressed a moan as his temples throbbed, steady, stabbing knives of pain driving into his cybernetic brain with each pulse of his spark. This always happened: after every nightmare he’d wake up screaming, head pounding. Nothing new.
The sun wasn’t even up yet, and he sighed. His ruby optics stared dully out of the glass, gazing at the sky turning purple with the coming morning. Gorinset was an ugly little planet, really. The water was polluted, most of the vegetation was poisonous, even to transformers, and the inhabitants of its single city were...repulsive, at best. They were constantly drunk, had no apparent knowledge of personal hygiene, and had no manners whatsoever. He remembered one Gorinsetian female he’d spoken to when he’d first arrived on this dustball. She’d stared at him like he was crazy, then proceeded to try to kill him.
Charming.
With another heaved sigh Depth Charge stood up and walked into the rear storage compartment. There wasn’t much more space back here than there was in the cockpit -- like it mattered anyway. He hadn’t been able to recover much of his possessions after the colony had been destroyed. He didn’t even have any holograms...
The enormous transformer shook those thoughts from his head and retrieved the one important thing he had been able to salvage: his portable personal computer terminal. He called it a laptop. He also withdrew a cube of energon, a tube and a needle, and returned to his comfortable pilot’s chair.
Booting up the computer and lifting the screen, Depth Charge thrust the energy needle into his wrist with a practiced ease that only mouthless transformers had. Never been able to eat anything, he thought as he attached the tube to it and then plugged that into the cube. Energon began dripping into the IV line as he tapped on the keys of his laptop. Breakfast and the morning news.
He surfed the inter-galactic Internet in search of any news that might lead him closer to X. The protoform hadn’t killed anything large in at least three weeks, and the fallen guardian had not been able to find him on any of the planets and systems he went to. No one had even seen the "hulking, ugly, burbling" transformer with a mainly reddish body and green optics.
He was beginning to lose hope.
Suddenly he sat forward, optics wide, silvery digits typing furiously on the computer in his lap. He’d just found a lead. The headline read: Cybertronian Establishment Attacked. No Survivors Found.
A horrible snarl rattled his vocal cords as he read the article. The details of the deaths were consistent with that of Protoform X -- bodies ripped apart, buildings knocked down and burned, but, most of all, gaping holes in the torso, sparks missing with no evidence of natural extinguishing. It appeared that he was taking a trip to Cybertronian Colony Jatanik.
His blood colored eyes glanced up suddenly as a new sound reached his audios.
Knocking. Someone was KNOCKING on the canopy. "Hello? Anyone in there?"
He jumped at the voice that had become all too familiar over the last twelve megacycles. Growling, he spat "Get out of here, Council Agent. I've got a job to finish."
With that, he angrily pressed the ship's activation switch and jammed the shifter into gear. The automatic energon re-enforced restraints came forth from the seat, crossing over his chest, then over his lower abdomen.
Other than that, nothing happened. The ship didn't start. Why isn't the ship starting?!
"Erm, I think not, Maximal." Virtue's cheery British accent chirped outside.
"What did you do to my ship, female?!"
Special Agent Virtue jumped off of the wing extension as the starhopper's canopy shot up and the fuming male climbed out. She nodded a curt greeting to him as she pulled out her compound bow and pulled the line back, aiming the energon tipped arrow at his head.
"One more step and you'll find yourself with a splitting headache, renegade. Not to mention a rather nasty toxic overdose."
Venom tipped. Of course. "What did you do to my ship?" he repeated.
"Hands on your head, if you please. The High Council's offer is off. I have permission to kill you, if I need to."
A dangerous snarl burst from him vocaliser while he spoke, giving his voice a savage hue. "Then I guess I'll have to deny you the chance!"
Using the wing of Asteric Six as a shield, Depth Charge withdrew and readied his torpedo launcher. This weapon would devastate the femme. Just had to adjust the settings low enough to avoid killing her but high enough to hurt her. His keen audios picked up her voice, threatening him.
"Come out, renegade! You're making this hard on yourself."
"You think this is hard on me? Puh! Try tracking a killer for a few stellarcycles." Depth Charge shouted back.
"The High Council continues to extend its apologies about that incident."
"Oh, I'm sure they do. But their apologies aren't going to stop Protoform X, are they?"
"They have hunters after the beast, Guardian! It is not your job to catch that thing."
"Yes...yes it is. For Lazuli and Poseidon...for Omicron!"
A snarling war cry rippled over Virtue as her prey turned around the wing. Aiming quickly he squeezed off a round at the femme and stopped.
He had missed!
More accurately, she had dodged the blast. "You'll have to do better than that!" she growled, and let off a poison-arrow. "I'm giving you one last chance to surrender yourself, Depth Charge, since I am in a good mood." Depth Charge ducked just in time to watch the barb imbed itself into the armor skin of his ship. No one had EVER dodged his shot before! No one! The male aimed and fired a nano-click too late.
Depth Charge screamed, clutching his leg as a toxic arrow struck the front of his thigh, burying its insidious head into sensitive circuitry and muscle-cord. At the same time he vaguely heard her cry out as well -- his shot had made its mark likewise.
He had to figure out what she had done to his spacecruiser and get the hell out of Dodge -- fast. The ex. guardian had gotten lucky (which was rare) twice in a split second: the venom was pumping out of the arrow and into thick muscle-cord. This meant that the toxin would spread more slowly than it would have if it had hit a major mech-vein. His second shred of good fortune had been that his torpedo had struck Agent Virtue. She was lying on the rocky ground, upper torso smoldering, apparently in stasis lock.
Silver fingers gripped the barb and ripped it out, grunting in pain as he limp/ran to the rear of the ship. The submarine keyed open a few panels of armor and immediately found the problem: the fuel tube was disconnected. Re-connecting it quickly, he dashed as fast as he could back to the cockpit and jumped in, pulling the canopy down. The ship was already in gear as it shuddered to a start. Crap. He was almost out of fuel.
No matter. There was a space station just out of Gorinset orbit. He'd re-fuel there. Depth Charge guided the ship into the air as the morning sun peeked over the horizon, silently thanking Primus for vertical take-off technology. He grimaced. His hand gingerly pressed down on the wound in his leg, trying to stifle the flow of silver life-fluid as the Asteric Six screamed into space.
****
All she could feel was pain. Pain was her world, her universe, her Primus and her Unicron. However, pain had never stopped her before and it wasn't going to stop her now.
Agent Virtue powered up her optics with grim determination, just in time to see and hear her prey's starhopper blare overhead and out of sight. The red and white Maximal held her composure, though; that arrow she had hit Depth Charge with was packed with a triple dose of toxin. It would be a matter of cycles before he suddenly realized the problem he had.
The toxin was a secret, and unnamed, development by some of the most accomplished scientists in employment by Cybertron. Of course, it was supposed to be used against Predacon enemies but this situation required something special. The Maximal High Council had no idea what the fallen guardian would do to their bounty huntress after she caught up with him and had wanted to give her a bit of assurance.
The first thing the toxin would effect was a robot's sensory systems, knocking out his senses one by one. Depth Charge's optics would start to unfocus, his hearing would shut off after a while, sense of touch would be skewed. Then he'd start to get nauseous, even though vomiting was not an option for a robot without a mouth, and he'd find himself so wracked by pain in his nerve circuits that he'd be unable to move. Stasis lock would deactivate, and he would remain awake for megacycles, horrid, crackling agony torturing his circuitry until he wished he were dead. He would be unable to control his ship, and because she emptied most of the fuel in his spacecruiser he'd be left floating in space not too far from here.
She had plenty of time.
And I plan on taking as much time as I want, she thought bitterly as she sat up, inspecting the charred wound on her chest. I'll let him suffer a little. Let him get to the point of begging for the anti-venom.
"Agent Virtue to the Maximal High Council, over."
It took a few cycles, but eventually Elder Nazarius's tenor voice chimed, "Elder Nazarius here. How're things going, Agent Virtue?"
"Exactly as I planned. However, your offer was declined."
"Offer? He's not coming in peacefully, is he?"
"Considering he's already fired on me, and done damage at that, no." Virtue hesitated for a nano-click, hoisting herself to her feet. "You will have your guardian soon enough, High Councilor. I've hit him with a triple dose of venom. All I have to do is pick him up and haul him home."
"Do not underestimate him, Special Agent Virtue. I wouldn't go as far as saying he's crazy yet, but he is extremely intelligent. Don't rule out the possibility he'll find a way to escape your grasp."
"He won't, Elder. I assure you, he won't."
****
The fallen guardian very slowly came back to consciousness. His body throbbed and it hurt to move, but the pain he felt now was NOTHING compared to the agony he had been going through earlier. Shadows moved above him and Depth Charge fought to focus his optics. When things finally came back into view he found himself staring up at a white ceiling, the single light attached to it shining dimly onto his frame. The entire room was white, as he thought about it, and strange machinery decorated the walls. A spark pulse monitor beeped monotonously -- Recording MY spark! -- and toxification monitors flashed information on their screens -- Recording me. The 'bot from the fueling station appeared. "Hey! He's waking up!" Why did his audios sound so strange?
Another transformer came into view next to the fuel-bot. His voice was but a murky whisper in Depth Charge's ears. "Maximal? How do you feel?"
"Fucking awful." he cursed, his own voice sounding distant. "Who're you?"
"Dr. Calypso." The second robot said. A doctor, hm? That meant he was in a hospital.
"My name's Vortex," chimed the fuel-bot. For some reason Depth Charge noticed he had gold-colored optics. "Glad you could re-join the living."
There was a hand on his shoulder and why did his chest feel so sore? His left hand reached up as if to press over his spark, only to find that his torso plates were wide open and several large tubes were protruding from the cavity. As if that wasn't bad enough his roaming hand found that not only was his chest unprotected but his spark chamber was denuded as well. Panic washed over him. His spark was exposed!
"Hey!" Depth Charge managed to gasp. "What is this?"
Dr. Calypso lurched forward as the Maximal started pulling at the machines and tubing. "You can't take those out. That's detox!"
His spark was exposed, naked to any and all advances. "I don't care what it is! Take it out! I don't have time for this." Depth Charge snapped suddenly, remembering the colony that had been attacked the night before. X was going to get away!
"You need a few more megacycles here, 'bot. I'm telling you --" Calypso grunted as he forced Depth Charge's right hand down and snapped on an energon restraint before the submarine could resist. " -- your spark is contaminated. It's sick. It's going to keep getting sicker if you don't let it recover!"
"No. You don't understand! I have to leave!" More restraints were clapped onto his limbs, pinning him down. He only vaguely realized that there were more people in the room, alot more. Okay think, Depth Charge. Don't panic. Panic never gets you anywhere.
The submarine shut his optics off and forced himself to breathe. To relax. Okay, so his spark was exposed. Nothing was going to happen to him here...wherever here was. When he felt himself composed enough to speak Depth Charge asked tensely, "Where am I?"
"West Point Medical Center." That was the fuel-bot. Vortex was his name.
"How did I get here?"
"I brought you here after you arrived at our fueling station. You looked pretty sick and it seemed like you were in pain..." Vortex trailed off, then picked up the thread. "After you collapsed I had my partner help me get you back into your ship and brought you here."
The former guardian heaved a sigh as the tension in his body began to bleed away. "Okay. Doc, explain all of this to me." He motioned with a jerky nod of his head towards the tubes and wiring.
His answer was curt and really did not answer the aquatic Maximal’s question: "Your spark is sick but getting better. Four more megacycles and you ought to be out of danger."
Four? The teal Maximal's optics shut off in despair. X'll be long gone by then. "Do I have a choice? I need to leave."
"Sure you have a choice. The wrong choice, however, will kill you."
****
The red and white femme walked through the halls of West Point Medical Center with a recognizable air of confidence and authority. Her chest was still cracked slightly, but that new nanite healing technology the High Council had granted her with was working its magic. Nanite Repair Systems cut down self repair time by almost sixty percent. Special Agent Virtue stopped at the nurses station and leaned on the counter. "Which cubicle is a 'bot by the name of Depth Charge in?"
"Are you family?" the short femme behind the desk asked.
Virtue flashed her ID card. "No. I'm the government."
Flushing, the femme nodded. "Oh. I'm terribly sorry. He's in Detox cube three."
The crimson colored Council employee flashed a cocky smile and swaggered off towards the appointed room.
****
Depth Charge was only dimly aware that the door to his room had opened. With a sigh he drew back towards consciousness as yet again he was interrupted. Every time he started to doze off someone came in, a nurse or Calypso, to bother him some more. Deep red eyes slowly activated and he turned his face towards the door --
-- and froze. Oh, slag.
Virtue smiled at her prey's look of shock. "What? You didn't think I'd find you?"
Immediately his optics narrowed, narrowed to nothing more than shining slits in his face.
The agent's gaze wandered to his chest, into the gaping cavity, watching his spark roll and sputter lazily with way too much interest. "Hmm. Look what we have here. My prey all trussed up in energon bonds with his bloody chest cavity open." Her laugh was an eerie one.
"You stay away, femme, or next time the settings on my gun won't be so low."
"Strong words for a 'bot in so vulnerable a position."
Depth Charge snarled as he felt the tips of her fingers draw up his abdomen, circling the struts supporting his open torso plating. He jerked against his bonds, blood colored optics flaring sharply. Agent Virtue's hand disappeared into subspace for a second, then returned, this time with an energon tipped arrow in hand. The snarl vibrating his vocaliser burst forth with new brutality as the tip touched his spark. "Like I said, renegade: I don't have to bring you in alive." The female smiled a little as the glowing orb shivered. "A little scared? All it would take is the tiniest little thrust of my hand, Depth Charge." She pressed down just a bit, and he jerked, spark screaming.
"What did X do?" he managed to gasp. The railing that his right hand was attached to was loosening.
Virtue looked up from poking the shaking ball of life-light. "What?"
"What did.....X do to you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Virtue went back to poking him. Again his spark screamed under the torture, a shriek that only he could hear.
Depth Charge bit back the urge to scream himself. "Yes...you do. You're a victim. You--ARGH!-- nearly admitted it back there." The pain was getting worse and he couldn't prevent the gasping grunt that escaped him.
"I am not a victim! What he did was--!" Virtue snapped, stopping herself.
Virtue remembered, and paused. She shook her head and pressed down with the arrow WAY TOO HARD --
The teal robot ripped the railing from the side of the bed with a high-pitched shriek and swung his fist at Virtue's face. The agent fell backwards, the impact sending her reeling towards unconsciousness. Depth Charge sat up as much as the left restraint would let him and yanked it; after a few nano-clicks of violently jerking at it the railing broke as well. With both his hands free he keyed the locks on the shackles open and watched as they and the banisters clattered to the tile with a satisfying bang.
Agent Virtue was on the floor, fighting unconsciousness. Nurses were screaming outside of the cubicle, telling him he didn't have time to linger. The doctors would come back and slap him down with more fetters and he'd once again be at the Council employee's mercy. She's not going to prod at MY spark again! Speaking of which...
The submarine-bot grabbed ahold of the tubes connected to his spark chamber and started ripping them out. Dr. Calypso dashed into the room, telling him he shouldn't be doing that, asking what he'd done to the femme on the floor. The furious Maximal ignored him and tore the wiring out with the lines. "You're making a huge mistake, Depth Charge!" the medic said lowly from his point beside Virtue. At the mention of his name the former guardian looked down at Calypso and grabbed him by the throat. "Connect my mech-fluid lines and unshackle my legs. I'm leaving." Getting nothing but a glare Depth Charge shook the doctor hard. "NOW!"
He didn't release his grip on Dr. Calypso's neck as the flustered medic reached into his chest and started re-connecting the fluid lines that supported his spark. He was so small compared to Depth Charge...the massive 'bots spark was the size of a bowling ball in Calypso's hands. "The restraints. Now." Depth Charge growled after the Maximal was finished with that.
The aquatic Maximal swung his legs over the side of the bed after he was free and stood up. Thick armor plates retracted back to cover Depth Charge's spark -- his most vulnerable place. "Thanks doc, but I gotta run."
Virtue sat up as her prey sprinted down the hallway. The female doggedly stood up and gave chase, staggering but refusing to let him go so easily. Depth Charge glanced back behind him as another group of medical students scattered out of his way. That femme! She just won’t give up! He turned back and picked up speed, ripping around a sharp right turn, heading towards the double doors at the end of the short hallway. Eleven thousand pounds of living metal slammed into them, but they didn't give. They were locked. No no NO!
Agent Virtue slid to a stop in front of the hallway she had seen Depth Charge disappear into. Her compound bow was prepped and ready. "Freeze, rat!"
Depth Charge growled and pounded on the doors, throwing his weight into each thrust of his fists. "Slag off, femmebot!"
A hot, searing pain struck his lower back but he ignored it and hurled himself into the doors, crying out with yet another pin-point pain between his shoulder blades and propellers. She was not going to defeat him! Standing back he stood on one foot and brought the other up, cocking it close to his hip and then firing it out. The doors were torn from their rails with the force of the blow.
Virtue fired off another arrow as he disappeared out of the exit, his cry of pain echoing through the hallway. Cursing openly at not only her prey but the pain in her head she took off and picked up the chase. Why wasn't he falling? She'd hit him with three poison arrows -- a quick look at the dart in her hand gave her the answer: she hadn't been using the right ones. DAMN!
Depth Charge flew out of the alley into the street, charging through what little traffic there was. He had to find his ship. He ground his feet against the metal street and stopped the nearest robot, asking for directions to the closest ship hangar. Without saying thank you he dashed off again, panting hard, to the west. Crimson optics looked over his shoulder. He was leaving that stupid female in his dust.
The former guardian saw the hangar at the end of the street and willed himself to go faster. For a 'bot that weighed five and a half tons he was already flying, but something deep inside himself told him he wanted to be as far away from Agent Virtue as he could get. His spark moaned with each throb of his racing pulse, that tiny nick in the orb a constant, painful reminder of what she had done to him and what she was going to do if she ever caught him again. Depth Charge kept up that blistering pace, didn’t slow nor falter until he had burst through the hangar doors and sealed them behind him. Only then did he give himself a moment to catch his breath.
He leaned against the door for a moment, chest heaving, spark flashing with pain within the walls of his cuirass. The lights in the ship hangar weren't very bright, but he immediately spotted the Astric Six across the building, sitting undisturbed. That ship had never looked so good to Depth Charge before. His legs trembled as he Almost there. Almost out of here!
"Security systems shutdown! Prepare for takeoff!" he panted as he neared the starhopper. "Canopy up!"
Leaping towards the sky, the nautical Maximal dove feet first into the bridge, landing expertly in the seat. Protruding arrow shafts snapped, burying the razor-sharp quills deeper into Depth Charge’s back. Mercury hands scrambled to lock himself into the chair as he ordered the canopy down. So close. At his command the engines roared to life -- Thank Primus for voice controls -- and the shuttle lifted. "Control tower, this is Asteric Six. Requesting permission to take off from interior hangar." He said, managing to sound controlled, not as though he'd just ran two miles at top speed.
"Permission granted. Take-off in two cycles and counting."
Two cycles? That was too long!
The hangar entrance opened and he could vaguely see Virtue's outline in the door.
She was running towards the ship, bow prepped.
Depth Charge unbuckled himself and threw up the canopy, drawing his weapon. "Virtue, stay back!" The settings on the launcher were as high as they could go. "Let me go!"
Agent Virtue stopped. Aimed. Not at him...at the rear engines!
The former guardian raised his torpedo launcher. "Put the weapon down!" Please...please..."I really don't want to have to hurt you.." he whispered.
The light from the massive hangar doors shone down on him. They were opening.
Virtue didn't stand down.
Depth Charge didn't have a choice.
He fired.
.......TBC.....
****
Questions? Comments? Death threats? I’m open to all. Email me at: metalmanta@yahoo.com