Chapter 14 - Too Big

A lone JCB digger sporting a military green paint job, sat beside the road being practically ignored by the seemingly never ending stream of soldiers and heavy-built vehicles, weapons and transports alike. An out-of-place white KAMAZ rolled down the small embankment that seperated the town from the small canal that weaved through its middle and braked to a stop beside the digger. The Human march continued on, a mere few glancing in the vehicle's direction, some with a confused look on their face or for those old enough and knowledgable enough; worry settling into their aging features at the sight of the unmanned vehicle.
''They're taking it directly to the enemy, now.'' Roadtrain stated bluntly as a Challenger 2 rumbled by.
''Now they're on the last of their fuel, they have to do something.'' Steele replied evenly.
''Well, if they don't do something about the fuel soon, we'll have to move on. Again.''
''What a shame that'll be.'' Steele grumbled. ''Can't wait to get off this miserable little rock.'' He added a bit more quietly, but with just as much conviction.
Silence settled once more between the two Decepticons as they watched the tail end of the march file past in a low, growling rumble of large and powerful engines, all heading towards the docks.


Once again, Galaxy stood before an old mine entrance, large arms crossed across her chest in defiance and a sour look etched upon her mechanical features. Her lenses met with the three blue lenses of Rifle who was stood just inside the entrance of the man-made tunnel. He didn't move under the strength of her rapidly increasing irritated glare. Not this time. Not ever again would he cave in.
''What short-stacked primordial mass of goo would build tunnels so tiny!'' She growled angrily.
''Uhm, the Human kind of short-stacked primordial mass of goo would. It's just the right size for what they intended to do around here.'' Rifle pointed out.
Galaxy narrowed her optics and leaned down a little. Rifle could've swore that he felt himself shrink a foot or two under that menacing blue stare of hers.
''There is no way, in the name of Primus, that I'm getting through there!'' She rumbled menacingly.
''But the tunnel widens a little way down!'' Rifle countered, but to no avail.
Galaxy straightened as much as the Cybertronian carved chamber would allow her to, and her hands went firmly to her hips. Rifle backed down.
''Well, we always find other ways, don't we?'' He said, a slight defeated sheepishness creeping into his tone.


The office door swung open, banging hard against the cabinets behind it as a wirey Fox fled the room. An electronic screech persued him down the lush corridoor and a spindly robotic figured skittered out onto the carpet, guouging four claw-like marks in the carpet as he fought for traction. His grip found, Spinner darted forward in pursuit of the rapidly fleeing George. Turning the corner sharply, the Decepticon spied the tail tip of the Fox vanishing around another corner. Spinner promptly charged in that direction, only to find the ensuing area empty. It was a large reception area, a flight of stairs neatly tucked away in the far left corner beside the large, marble styled reception desk. His head swung from side to side, searching for any signs of the organic. A line of fading heat leading off towards and down the stairs signified George's route. Spinner took off again, metal feet tapping against the hard floor.


George took the steps three at a time, a slight wonderment lingering in the back of his mind about how he hadn't fallen and broken his neck. But those kinds of thoughts would have to wait for later, once he'd escaped his rampaging washing machine. His smart, black shoes slapped hard onto the waiting marble floor at the bottom of the many flights of stairs he'd just tackled. His lungs burned through being worked too hard and his heart pounded, threatening to stop. He clutched a paw to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. Was this some kind of punishment? Punishment. He thought. God's punishing me. The thought came swiftly, but weakly. The sound of metallic feet tapping hard against polished marble echoed down the stairs. The damnable demon appliance was still hot on his trail. George tooke a deep breath and sprinted off down another corridoor. He knew who'd still be at work during this time of night. Professor Markus. He always worked over-time, always striving to perfect his new brain-child; nano technology. If he found Markus, chances are, the washing machine would stop chasing him. For the time being. That assumption was based on the memory of when it'd first attacked him in his own kitchen. It'd scurried back beneath the sideboard and resumed its disguise when the family came down to inspect.

He rounded another corner and through the blur of growing sweat and pain, a set of black double doors outlined with stripey black and yellow hazard tape came into view. They were the main doors to the loading - cum - storage bay, and for some unfathamobal reason, the scientist had set up base in there recently. No matter though. He could see the glimmer of light through the cracks between the doors and their frame. And if it weren't for the noise of his heart pounding in his ears, he'd have heard the mumbled words of a rather intrigued, yet befuddled and decidely pretty much one-sided conversation going on. He barged through doors and into the large crate riddled space and entered the scientist's little hide away that was shrouded by a series of heavy white sterile curtains. Within lay a network of wires all leading to a massive computer set-up with various scientific instruments scattered about on the surroundings tables that meant very little to George in way of their uses. A strange mechanical whirr sounded out and Markus scurried back into his little area, a pair of pliers in one paw and a heavy duty looking hammer in the other.

''Mr. Furman!'' The Great Dane blurted, obviously extremely surprised. ''What brings you to this little corner of the building?''
George shrugged, his mind blank for excuses, something which was very rare. Not that he'd had a chance to think of an excuse for dropping by for a visit. After all, it's not everyday you get chased by a homicidal transforming washing machine. He thought tiredly.
''I just thought I'd drop by and see how our very talented nano-technologist was doing.'' He said, feigning a smile. He was not in the mood to crack a smile.
Markus looked slightly puzzled. His eyes wandered over George, taking in his ruffled suit and slightly sweaty fur.
''I'm just fine... You...?'' He lied. There was nothing remotely fine or okay about having to do upgrade work on an alien machine who's threatening to remove your skeleton whole if you don't obey. Technically, it wasn't really possible to do such a thing. But Carjack wasn't from Nyxen 3, and if he could transform into an ugly, yet posh 4x4, then who knows what else he's capable of?
The two furs stood opposite each other for a few moments in silence. George was struggling to control his breathing and hoping and praying that the washing maching wouldn't spring through the doors and disembowl him on the spot, whilst Markus secretly praying to every god he could think of in every language he knew, that Carjack wouldn't grow impatient and slaughter them both.


On the other side of the curtains, Carjack sat on his four wheels once again, grumbling inwardly. Turbulance was here. And so were two of the Autobots. If the upgrade isn't finished soon, we'll all be finished. He thought unhappily. The Autobots may not harm other beings by some stupid ancient law, but that wouldn't stop Turbulance from crushing them for aiding in Carjack's personal mission. And as far as Carjack was concerned, Professor Markus was his to destroy, not some up-tight Seeker type's. Once the upgrade was complete, Markus would no longer be. Having a group of Decepticons and Autobots knowing what you were up to was bad enough. But to have an organic do the upgrade for him? Pitiful, but something that needed to be done. He listened in on the ongoing, albeit slightly awkward conversation that was happening between the two organics on the otherside of the curtains, until he heard Spinner approaching.
''Don't enter!'' Carjack growled.
He heard Spinner slow to a stop just outside the double doors.
''Why not?'' He snapped angrily.
''To disturb the two would hinder my progress. So stay out of sight until the damned Vulpine leaves.'' He growled menacingly.
The com crackled slightly and a short, electronic sigh echoed through the silence.
''Fine.'' Spinner snapped. ''Spoil-sport.'' He added in a mutter.


Galaxy swatted dirt and debris from her large form and huffed. She'd managed to find another route, but it'd cost her many preciouse minutes. Rifle was stood a little before her, peering carefully around a corner. There was definately someone in the newly discovered chamber. There was more than someone, infact. There was four. Two free-standing and two chained to the far wall. Rifle averted his gaze from the harshly glowing chains and eyed up the massive form of the transformed Chinook that bore the name Krusher. Alongside him stood a transformed digger in a similiar military green colour scheme. The colour may have been misleading to some, but it was definately a Constructicon. Rifle looked up and over his shoulder and at Galaxy, a silent message being swiftly passed between the two on a secure frequency they'd developed between themselves over the years. Galaxy gave a brief nod and Rifle scurried into the chamber, making a bee-line for the ensnared Raid and Flashpoint, his optics down-cast, wanting to avoid as much of the ensuing optical damage as possible.

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