29.April.06

The Beginning

By: Sinead  

~< Part Nine >~

“First position,” Steele snarled. Awn’néad held her sword at her right side, pointing forward, with her feet spread apart, holding her weight equally. The fifteen-year-old watched neither one of her teachers, but instead focused upon the positions of her arms and legs.

“Fourth.” Awn’néad pulled her sword up on her left side to right beside her face with her left foot out and her right foot bearing most of her weight.

“Sixth,” Altaire called out from the side. The young human gyrated the sword above her head once, then took half a step backward, her left foot holding most of her weight and her right arm extended fully, the sword thrust out. Her left arm was held back, elbow level with her shoulder, hand almost touching the once-unusable shoulder.

There was silence. Awn’néad had just completed the full set of positions. There were thirteen. The ones that had low numbers were the easier ones, while the ones on the higher scale were tougher. It was a retest, as Awn’néad was evaluated upon how well she maintained the positions even when she was learning harder, more time-consuming moves.

“Take a rest,” Steele said. “You deserve it.”

Awn’néad bowed, and walked over to the side of the arena, where a towel and a bottle of water were lying on the ground. She picked up the towel, wiped her face, then wrapped it around the handle of her sword, which was drenched. She set it on the ground, and then sat with her back to the wall, taking down a few gulps of water.

Steele and Altaire were talking on a low frequency on the other side of the arena. One that they knew that they knew Awn’néad couldn’t hear them upon. It was close to the frequency that Steele used with Depth Charge.

“She only had trouble with the flipping exercise that you gave her,” Steele said.

“Yes, that’s true,” Altaire agreed. “But all in all, she did an extraordinary job.”

Steele growled his affirmation, then turned, and walked over to where Awn’néad was sitting. She stood, and looked into his eyes confidently.

“You passed,” the warrior said, and then added as an afterthought, “Maybe, if you are not to fatigued, you’d . . . ah . . .”

“Come on,” Awn’néad said, smiling. “Do you think that I’d give up the chance that I could actually kick your butt? Bring it on!”

“You two play nice,” Altaire called over to them. “Awn’néad, you’re tired, and you know it. Take it easy. I’ll be back in a moment. I’m hungry.”

Awn’néad sighed as Altaire left, then looked to Steele, and said quietly, but loud enough to be heard by him, “And I’m wondering when you two will actually admit that you-”

“Awn, third position. Now,” Steele interrupted quietly, and pulled out his sword.

Awn’néad did as she was told, knowing that something was up because Steele never shortened her name. The only exception being when there was trouble or something was needed to be done quickly and/or swiftly.

The two were just about to cross swords when a nasally voice said, “You are a warrior, are you not?”

Awn’néad turned around and saw a strange bot with a yellow uni-optic, complete with what seemed to be a super-size ego.  Steele snarled threateningly. “You are disturbing an important training session.”

The bot paid no attention to Steele’s statement as he replied, “You seek honor. And I just happen to know where you can achieve the highest honor possible. There’s a price, of course, but what’s a price, when you will be recognized wherever you go?”

“Tell me the price,” Steele snarled harshly, clasping the hilt of his sword fiercely. Something was up. He had to find out what.

“I’ll tell you tonight, when–”

“Now,” Steele growled, as if a beast suddenly talked through him.

The unknown bot’s “jaw” quivered, then he cleared his throat and said, “Well, ah, all you have to do, is, ahem, rid the, ah, planet of Awn’néad.”

Awn’néad’s blood froze. Would Steele even consider it?

“Hmm. Some bargain. Not a hard decision, though.”

“So you’ll do it?” the strange bot’s eye lit up with hope.

Steele chuckled evilly, and replied, “If you were not so preoccupied with trying to get me to kill my own student, you would have noticed that there are three warriors in this arena.”

“Th-th-th-three?!”

Altaire came up behind the unknown bot and hit him over the head with the hilt of her sword, then glared at Steele.

“Altaire, mi ánimo de vida, you know that if either you or her were killed, I would die. I could never bring myself to do anything to either of you, no matter the cost.”

Altaire seemed satisfied with his answer, and as they were leaving the arena, Awn’néad said, “I didn’t know that you knew Spanish, Steele.”

He blushed. “It was from a book.”

Altaire snickered.

One hour later, Awn’néad and all her guardians were in the conference room. Steele, Altaire, and the human were telling about their encounter with the strange Predacon. When they were done, Stormblend tried to break the news to Awn’néad easily, but he was used to telling things as they were. This was no exception.

“Megatron’s escaped again.”

“And he’s now roaming Cybertropolis? Absolutely no one knows where he is?” Awn’néad asked, brow furrowed and green eyes unusually dark. Stormblend nodded silently. Awn’néad sat heavily in a chair. Altaire put her hand on Awn’néad’s shoulder, and the teenage human looked up at her.

“We have to be more cautious from now on,” Optimus said. “Awn, I want you to bring your sword with you wherever you go. I can’t order yo to do that, but I’m asking you.”

“Opti, you should know that after today, I’ll do anything to keep safe,”she said, looking at her Head Guardian solemnly.

He sighed, and broke even more sad news. “Awn’néad, I’ve been drafted to act as a captain on an exploration ship called the Axalon. Storm, Pyro and Cyclone are going too. I even have my suspicions that they’ll pull Altaire as well. We’re leaving in three weeks.”

Awn’néad’s head sank into her hands, and she muttered, “How come everything’s happening all at once? Primus . . .”

After an hour of talking, it was decided that three of the best Guardians-in-training would be promoted to the rank of Temporary Guardian on the morrow. The flame-haired warrior excused herself from the meeting early, so she could get some sleep. However, sleep never took a firm hand on her . . .

Steele and Altaire were sitting on the building that they had been on their first date together.

“Who was that bot?” Altaire wondered.

“I wish I knew.”

“So you actually did–”

“Altaire,” Steele soothed. “You’ve known me for four years now. You know that I could never do anything to harm her. By the Pit, I had almost planned to kill myself when I struck her during her armor test two years ago.”

Altaire lowered her head and replied quietly, “I know, and I’m sorry. I-I’m just, well, a little uptight about this issue.”

“I understand. And I know that you know that I would do nothing to intentionally hurt Awn’néad. Even if it meant telling her that I’m–” He stopped himself short, looking away from Altaire and towards the dark horizon.

“What? That you’re what?”

“It is nothing.”

“You’re not telling me something.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“I can’t, Altaire,” Steele whispered hoarsely. “I am deeply sorry, but I cannot tell you as of yet. It hurts to much to tell even you.”

Altaire stood, and walked to the stairway, but before she descended she whispered over her shoulder, “Why don’t you trust me?”

Fool! Steele thought to himself, as he was walking toward the stilted house. He was taking the long route, so he would avoid Altaire. You’re a fool, Steele. Why can’t you learn to trust another? Why?! You could have told her, and . . . and at least let her comfort you! Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He was staring at the ground, so he didn’t see the person sneaking up behind him until a hand covered his mouth, while another hand pulled his sword-arm up behind his back. Steele was pulled into an alley when he had finally had it. With his left elbow, he pulled back sharply and caught his captor in the lower-gut region. Quite low, in fact. The bot went down on his knees with a groan.

In an instant, Steele had clambered up the fire escape of a three-story building. He stood at the edge, looking down. Five bots materialized out of the shadows.

“Screwball think that Megatron is looking funny!” one buzzed. Steele absently wondered how many wires were crossed in that one’s head.

“Yeah? Well, I still think that I would make a better commander than him,” another screeched in a low tone. “The plan sucks. We’ll get caught.”

“Do shut up, Gyrosphere,”another said in a drowsy nasally voice. Steele recognized it immediately as the bot who tried to get him to kill Awn’néad earlier that day. He was supported by a tallish Predacon, who looked like he had an attitude problem, by the look on his face. “I’m in enough pain and your voice is annoying me.”

The bot supporting him said in turn, “Revengence is right, Gyrosphere. Clamp it!”

“You clamp it, Scragpile!”

“ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!” Megatron bellowed, as soon as he was able.

“What is the meaning of you trying to capture me?” Steele snarled down at Megatron.

“Well, I could answer that,” a feminine voice replied from behind him. Her face was clouded with regret. “But you’d start to ask questions that I don’t think I’d be able to answer.”

Steele turned around and saw the female he knew he should have hunted down. But this time, he knew that there wouldn’t be any time to kill her . . . and he couldn’t kill her in front of the child that was watching from behind her legs.

It was Electra.

She moved quite quickly, turning away as something pulled Steele off the roof. Luckily, the fall wasn’t all that bad for Cybertronians. And Steele also landed into a pile of scrap, so he wasn’t hurt badly and was only stunned. When he was able to activate his optics, he saw Megatron standing over him, with his gun aimed at the center of Steele’s chest, where, lying just below his chestplate, was his Spark.

“You are of great value to me, yes,” the tyrant replied.

“How? I am not-”

“Silence, fool. You have two choices: The first being killed, and the second is joining my band, and, say, helping us retrieve an item of great importance to our race.”

A human with long flaming hair pulled up into a ponytail crept silently into the nearby  shadows, and heard from Steele, “If killing Awn’néad is part of taking whatever it is that you want to take, then kill me now.”

“Oh, no, my dear Steele. Revengence was wrong to go and do something as liberated as he did earlier this day. And I apologize for his actions, yes. Awn’néad is no longer a bother to me. She is but  a human, and once we have achieved our goal, you will no longer worry about her.”

“And if I do not accept your terms, I will be terminated?”

“Why, of course.”

The flame-haired young woman watched sadly, as Steele reluctantly accepted. Quite reluctantly. A single tear fell silently, marking a course down her cheek . . .

The human was walking forlornly back to the stilted house, thinking about what she saw.

“Awn’néad!” a voice yelled, and arms encircled her a moment later. “What’s wrong?”

Awn’néad looked into Altaire’s optics, and replied, “Now isn’t the time for me to tell you.”

“We were so worried. Why didn’t you tell us where you were?”

“I’m sorry, Altaire. I was wondering if Steele was out here, and–”

“He’s coming.”

“Did you two . . .”

“Break up? No. On the other hand, he’s hiding something and won’t tell me what it is.”

“I guess then everything will work out on it’s own,” Awn’néad said in a half-defeated tone.

“What do you mean by that?” Altaire asked.

“Remember the day that I met you? The speech that I had to recite? ‘As is normal in the rising of the sun, surprises are woven into the fabric of our everyday lives,’” Awn’néad recalled. “Steele will tell you when he’s ready.”

“So he told you, but not me.”

“No, he didn’t. I know that it might seem as if I know, but I don’t. I didn’t even talk with him. You can’t force people into telling you what’s bothering them if they don’t want to say anything.”

Click here for part ten