The Primary Encounter

By: Sinead

~< Part Two >~

Optimus and Rhinox ushered everybody into the hallway, and then waited to see how Dinobot reacted. If he pulled out his own sword, Optimus and Rhinox would interfere.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Altaire snarled, eyes narrowed until they were glowing green slits.

“I had no time,” Dinobot whispered brokenly in return.

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as you let me up.”

Altaire considered this for a moment, and then sighed. “Fine.”

She got off of Dinobot, then said, “Start talking, or you’ll find my sword down your throat.”

He stood, more careful than ever to remain nonthreatening.  “And you’d do that, too, I know . . . ” 

Dinobot told his story about the last night they had talked, as he had told Optimus. And Altaire saw a deep regret, a deep sorrow that Dinobot had never let himself show. Before, he had covered it with snarls, sneers and threats.

“Why did you steal the disk, Steele . . . Dinobot. Sorry.”

Dinobot looked away from the female that he had loved with his whole Spark, his whole being, and said, “I . . . No. Megatron saw me, after we . . .” He paused, and thought for a second, then continued. “The night after the other Predacon who wanted me to kill Awn’néad, he must’ve seen us together. He came up to me when I was alone that night, and said that if I refused to help him steal the Golden Disk, he’d kill me. Not only that, but I’d be tortured before I was killed, and those who I had sworn to formally or informally protect would be put to death before my eyes. As I said earlier to Primal, that isn’t my idea of an honorable death. With or without a struggle. He came with backup, to say the least.”

“The same Megatron who unleashed that huge ‘Protoform’? The one who killed Awn’néad’s family?” Altaire asked in a scared whisper.

Dinobot nodded gravely. “The very same. And he’s here. Searching for an Energon deposit that would fuel entire Predacon fleets.”

Altaire leaned against a wall, with her arms hanging at her sides.

The computer beeping broke the silence. “Oh, slag,” they heard Rhinox mutter.

“What’s wrong?” Optimus Primal asked, the worry clearly evident in his voice.

“You wouldn’t want to know, but there’s a small M-Class StarCruiser, and it just entered the outer atmosphere . . . ”

All of the Maximals were running toward sector D-193, where the StarCruiser landed. Optimus flung himself off of Rhinox’s back just as the rhino had skid to a halt. “Hold up! Maximals, we’re here.”

“Oh, like we needed you ta tell us dat?” Rattrap sneered. The StarCruiser had landed solidly and there was no sign that any being, Cybertronian or other, had left the craft.

“Optimus?”

“Yes, Tigatron?”

“Should we try to get whatever’s in there out?”

“Let’s wait, and then–” But he never finished his answer, because the side hatch of the star craft opened, the shadow of a figure outlined plainly in the doorway.

“What is it?” Airazor asked, feeling a little unsettled at the sudden appearance of a Cybertronian StarCruiser in this area of the universe.

The creature laughed, and said, “For a moment there, I thought that I had landed on Crannog!”

“Where?” Cheetor asked, not recognizing the voice right away. It had matured slightly since they had seen each other last.

“A planet where there are intelligent creatures that vaguely look like ones from Earth. But they’re telepathic and butt into your thoughts without a how-do-you-do. Talk about rude.”

“Who, us?” Cheetor asked innocently, remembering the design of the craft, as well as the voice of the being within the StarCruiser.

“No, the Crannogians!” She started laughing again, and leaped nimbly out of the craft.

At first, the Maximals couldn’t believe their eyes. Finally, Tigatron broke the silence. “What is a human doing in a Cybertronian spacecraft?”

She smiled, and said, “Long story, Tiger, but one that I will be happy to tell you all.”

Optimus walked closer, his body language non-threatening, but stiff and wary, the same movments he used right before a long lecture. “Awn . . .”

“Opti, you think I’d end up letting you go and get lost all on your lonesome?”

“You . . . you brat. Get over here.” The two embraced, not without tears from Optimus, who thought that he’d never see the young human again in his life.

Most of the Maximals transformed, to crowd around the teenage female human, asking questions all at once, so that their words were just a jumble of noise. She was used to it, and answered them as fast as they were asked.

Suddenly, Awn’néad saw a metallic royal blue face, taller than most of the rest, looking down at her, a rare gentle smile playing upon his features. However, his eyes heralded an uncertainty. Awn’néad also saw a female standing next to him, also smiling, except hers was dazzling and radiant. The moment she saw the femme, she forgot about the first Maximal’s face.

The female was Altaire, one of her personal trainers and one of her most trusted Guardians. She knew that much. When all the hubbub died down, Altaire walked over to Awn’néad, and they looked each other over.

Altaire was almost as tall as Dinobot, but her face was the total opposite of his. Altaire had slanted emerald green optics, with a lighter green pinpoint as a pupil. Her face was skinny, but not gaunt-looking, with medium-sized lips. She had a high forehead, and a smallish turned-up nose. Her skin was golden, and she had two separate, delicate-looking eyebrows.

As for the rest of her body, she had semi-broad shoulders, and her arms were the same muted sea-green as her beast mode coloration, with golden joints. On her upper arms, there were jade-green stripes. She had thin wrists, and medium hands, that ended in five digits; one thumb, four fingers, all with talons on the tips. They were gold, and it looked like she was wearing golden riding gloves that ended midway between her wrist and elbow. There were three spikes right below her elbows, so that she could elbow someone, and they’d be hurt easily.

Altaire had a medium-sized chest; she showed a little more than Airazor, but considerably less than Blackarachnia. As for her legs, they were powerfully built, and, like her arms, they were sea green, with golden highlights. Again, like her arms, her legs looked as if she was wearing boots that ended around mid-calf, and sea-green and emerald striped upper legs. There were also three spikes on the side of her knees.

Awn’néad was a typical redhead. Her hair looked like flames, and her eyes were a deep emerald green, like Altaire’s own. She had a straight nose, and lips that were medium-sized. Freckles adorned her almost-always-smiling face. Silver threads were woven through the braid in her hair, just as a silver pennant hung from her neck. Awn’néad had just the right sized shoulders, and usually was found with shirts cut to bare her arms. She had a medium-sized torso, for length, but wasn’t the slightest piece plump. In fact, she was quite slim, not anorexic mind you, but muscular.  Awn’néad also had the long dancers’ legs, but she used them to leap higher, and kick stronger and faster than everybody that she fought with. The males suffered the most, especially the tall ones, for a leap-kick is usually more painful than a regular kick, if you catch my drift.

Awn’néad was wearing a sleeveless light aqua top, showing off her strong arms that were toned from working with the sword, to just plain pinning Cybertronians to walls, if they decided to mention anything about her being an orphan, or saying something about her parents that she felt offended their memories. There was an old, deep scar on her left shoulder.

On her legs, she had midnight blue pants that bagged out from the waist, and stayed baggy, until they met her ankles in light aqua cuffs. She was barefoot, having never liked wearing shoes much.

“Altaire! I never thought that I’d see you again!” Awn’néad cried, and threw her arms around her former guardian, who embraced her back.

“Awn’néad, you remember Steele?” Altaire replied.

“Of course I do! Don’t you think that it’s impossible to forget him?” She caught sight of Dinobot, who had walked up behind them to look at the girl almost sadly.

Optimus walked over to the human, and said, “We’ll see you three at the base. Awn, do you need anything to be carried from the ship?”

Awn’néad let go of Altaire, and said, “Yeah, the whole thing. If I’m not mistaken, you could use the parts to repair the Axalon. I did an overpass, and scanned to see if there was damage. No offense, but one word that could be used to describe the Axalon would be ‘scrap’.”

“How much does it weigh?” Rhinox asked.

“Actually, it isn’t heavy at all. Watch.” And with that, Awn’néad put her back to the side of the ship, and pushed. The whole thing moved a good eight feet!

“I’d say about three hundred cubes? That is, if the materials you suggested were used after all.”

Awn’néad panted, and sat on the ground. “Oh, they did. Roughly two-eighty, if you include the luggage.”

“How heavy is the luggage?”

To answer his question, Awn’néad went into her craft, and returned, carrying a bag over each shoulder, and a long, skinny package carefully wrapped in leather in her hand.

“Now, it should weigh two-seventy. Give or take ten.”

“Wow,” the cheetah said. “I didn’t know that a craft so light could endure such a beating as entering the atmosphere.”

“A lot has happened since you left Cybertron, Cyclone. A whole lot,” Awn’néad told him, grinning at him.

“Oh, it’s Cheetor now,” he said, smiling. He then looked at the ship’s design, and remembered the day that the initial sketches were accepted.

Rhinox had since transformed, picked the ship up off of the ground, and started walking away with it. Luckily, the base was still in view, although somewhat distant. The others followed him, helping steady and bear the weight, if only a little.

“I forgot that he was that strong. Tell me, Altaire, what have I missed?” Awn’néad asked.

Altaire dropped to her beast mode, and said with a chuckle, “Would you mind horribly if I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not. It’s just that I haven’t seen you in almost a year.”

“What?!”

“I’m serious. The Axalon set out on its exploration journey almost exactly twelve Earth months ago.”

“I really don’t know what has happened. You see, I just got out of my Stasis Pod earlier today, so I had no idea.”

Awn’néad suddenly saw Dinobot, thought deeply, and smiled. “You scrapheap! Steele! It’s you!” Then, in a slightly calmer voice, she said, “I missed you!”

“You are not angry that I didn’t say good-bye?” Dinobot said, astonished. He took a step forward, but checked himself, and didn’t move after that.

“No! Why should I be? You have to do whatever possible to stay alive,” Awn’néad replied, a strange look in her eyes, indicating that she knew about Dinobot’s choice.

“You know?” Dinobot whispered.

“Humans are known to be utterly silent, especially when barefoot.” Awn’néad said. She rushed at him, and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. Dinobot sighed, and shook his head, smiling. He rested one hand upon her shoulder, and another on her head, and bowed his head over hers, feeling complete once again, oddly. Awn’néad pulled free, causing Dinobot to smile again, shake his head, and drop to beast mode. He picked up Awn’néad’s packs, but let her carry the oblong leather package. The trio started walking toward the Axalon, when three dark figures stood in their path.

Awn’néad’s heart beat faster, despite how hard she tried to calm it down. She knew this Predacon. She feared this Predacon. But she wouldn’t let that fear show.

“Ah, yes. The traitor, and what’s this? A new Maximal, and a human, yess.”

“You know, Megsie, I always did hate your vocal habits, yes,” Awn’néad taunted, hiding her fright by taunting him.

“Awn’néad O’Rion. Hm. Wasn’t expecting the pleasure of killing you today. I’d say that my week has just started to take a turn for the better!”

“That would be incorrect.” And as she said that, she ripped the leather off of the item, and all who were present, (which was Dinobot, Altaire, Megatron, Inferno, and Scorpinok) saw that it was a sword.

With warriors’ cries, Altaire and Dinobot transformed, while Awn’néad unsheathed her sword, and the three attacked. Altaire took on Inferno, and Awn’néad got Scorpinok, who went screaming like a baby in the other direction after three seconds of her attack. Of course, she had attached to him a holographic projector of a common fear among Predacons. He believed that he was in the Maximal Elders’ formal trial chamber. At this point, he would be running down unending halls lined with the fiercest-looking Maximal guards Cybertron had to offer.

Dinobot had taken on Megatron alone, but after Awn’néad finished with Scorpinok, she joined her teacher. Altaire was more than a little charred, and yet when she joined Dinobot and Awn’néad, she still fought as if the battle had just begun. While Dinobot and Awn’néad were fighting from the front, Altaire had attacked from his back.

Suddenly, Megatron found himself on his back, staring at the points of three swords, two aimed at his face, the third at his chest, ready to plunge in and extinguish his Spark if he struggled.

“You killed my family, my friends, all who I cared for, you . . .  you . . .  Be glad that I was taught to try to restrain my swearing, or your audio circuits would be oozing mech fluid at an alarming rate,” Awn’néad said.

In her eyes, there was an emerald fire blazing fiercely. Megatron gulped, but didn’t dare try to speak, for fear that he’d be killed instantly . . . and be unable to complete his plans. He still had other things to destroy in this time and place, and to be terminated by a meddling human before those plans were brought to fruition? Time for a tactical retreat.

Then, Awn’néad pulled her sword away, and motioned for her companions to do the same. The last think Megatron saw before a sharp pain in his head caused him to pass out, was Awn’néad pulling her arm back, and then saw her sword flash in a silver arc . . . 

Dinobot was carrying Awn’néad on his back, while Altaire was carrying her bags.

“Steele?”

“My name is Dinobot now,” he corrected somewhat gently, looking back at her.

“Oh. Sorry. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m so glad to see you again.”

“I don’t understand why you aren’t angry at me. Altaire flattened me earlier today, right after she got out of the CR chamber.”

“Maybe it’s because I knew why you had to leave. Wait a sec. You were in the CR chamber, Altaire? Why?” Awn’néad asked.

“When my pod entered the atmosphere, the lid had melded with the pod itself. I don’t know why, but the others think that the heat did it.”

“If someone could bring me to the pod later on, I could probably tell you what happened.”

There was an embarrassed silence.

“Don’t tell me: You destroyed the pod, Dinobot, didn’t you?”

Dinobot nodded as sheepishly as he could allow himself to.

Awn’néad shook her head, smiling. “Oh, well. I guess that some things are better left unknown.”

By then, they had reached the Axalon. Awn’néad hopped off Dinobot’s back, careful to keep most of her weight off of her left ankle, which she had twisted severely sometime during the battle. They went up the lift, and saw that all the Maximals were there.

“There you are, we were getting worried,” Optimus said. “Primus, what happened?”

Awn’néad sighed, and said, “Megatron decided to show up with two of his goons.”

“Inferno and Scorpinok,” Dinobot filled in.

“Who won?” Cheetor asked.

“As if you have to ask?” Rhinox mumbled, pulling out the first-aid kit, and sitting Awn’néad down, so that he could look at her ankle.

Awn’néad smiled, and then said to Rhinox, “You wouldn’t have any rooms that could be converted into a human-suitable area?”

“Just did,” Rhinox replied, and told her that it was three doors down the fifth hall off of the main corridor. Altaire’s was right beside hers, and Dinobot’s was the door exactly opposite Altaire’s.

Awn’néad looked relieved, and was just about to pick up her bags, when there was another beeping sound coming from the computer. She straightened, and hopped over to the screen before Rhinox.

“This doesn’t look good.”

“What do you mean?” Cheetor asked her, and pushed his way through the crowd that had formed around the console.

Awn’néad looked at Rhinox, who was looking at her. She sighed. “An alien device, and it’s going to destroy the planet in less than fifteen cycles.”

“WHAT?!?!?”

Awn’néad looked back at the screen hoping desperately that she was wrong.

“I’m going to stop it.”

“O-Opti!” Awn’néad whirled around, her sprained ankle temporarily forgotten. “You can’t!”

Optimus put his hands on Awn’néad’s shoulders, and said, “I have to.”

Awn’néad started crying, knowing what was going to happen. Optimus pulled her closer to him, and said, “You have to be strong, and let go. No matter where I am, I’ll never, ever forget you.”

Awn’néad kept crying, but through her tears, she managed to say, “I love you.”

“I know. And the reason why I’m going is that I care about you and my comrades too much to let them be killed,” Primal replied, then said, “Rattrap, you’re in charge.”

The leader looked to Dinobot, and the ex-Predacon saw the command, Keep Awn’néad safe.

Optimus pulled Awn’néad away from him, looked deep into her eyes, and said, “Never forget. Please. Never forget.”

“I won’t. I swear it, I won’t. I love you,” Awn’néad replied, and embraced Optimus Primal one last time. When she pulled away, she said, “Use the StarCruiser. She’s the best.”

Optimus nodded wordlessly, walked to the lift, and turned around, to see the Maximals that he had worked so hard to keep together, and keep from falling into the Predacons’ unmerciful hands.

They looked mournfully at their leader, and then the lift lowered slowly, and he saw them no more . . . 

Awn’néad sank down to the floor, her back against the wall, knees drawn up tight to her chest, and her head on her knees, unable to stop the sobs that wracked her form. She didn’t want to see the holographic pictures of the StarCruiser leaving the atmosphere, with the one bot that she had considered  her adoptive father.

I will never forget you, Optimus Primal, she thought, unwilling to stop the flow of tears. Not even seven hours of finding him after nine months of searching, and she would be losing him again.

Suddenly, a bright light seemed to penetrate her very eyelids, which she had kept carefully sealed shut, to keep out the images of the StarCruiser. Awn’néad curled into an even tighter ball, and could hear two different screams, of two different bots who seemed to be in mortal agony.

Finally, the bright light ended, but Awn’néad was too scared to uncurl, and open her eyes. She was still sobbing quietly, and soon, after the screaming and talking stopped, she felt a hand of her shoulder.

Slowly, she looked up, and saw the golden face of Altaire looking at her solemnly.

“He . . .  He’s . . . ” Awn’néad couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Altaire nodded, then pulled Awn’néad close to her, and said nothing.

It was true.

The Maximal leader, Optimus Primal, was dead.

Click here for part three