Chapter 6 - Scree

Cybertron

Flare looked her opponent square in the optics. He was slightly larger than she, but she'd quickly learned, thanks to Burnout's minor hints from the sidelines of the courtyard that served as a sort of sparring arena, that to get the better of a larger opponent, use your size and wit, not brute force and ignorance, to get one up on them. Performed properly, it can be lethally effective, especially if one can latch onto the backs of said opponent, where a large amount of damage can be performed relatively unhindered. Her oppenent was a Constructicon by the designation of Scree. He was one of the smaller of his kind, working in the tight spots that his larger, bulkier fellow Constructicons couldn't get to. He pounded a fist into an open palm. Flare carefully continued her wide circle around him, trying to keep a tabs on where his limbs were, what they were doing in an attempt to try and figure out his next move. He lurched at her, fist pulled back, other hand outstretched to grab her. She rolled off to one side, but Scree's recovery was fast and unexpected. The length of metal that served as his crane arm in vehicle mode swung out, taking her feet out from beneath her. She'd come to learn that he often used his crane arm like a tail, the small but sturdy hook adding to its effectiveness as a weapon. She landed hard, face first. Scree stood over her. She looked up at him from the corner of a lense. A large hand lowered. She hesitated, wondering if it was some kind of ruse, a dirty trick he had in mind. She prepared for what ever he had in store for her as best she could and gingerly took his hand. He did nothing more than heave her back to her feet and congradulate her with a hearty slap on the back.

''Well done!'' He beamed. ''I wasn't expecting you to be so tough.''
Scree was only a few years older than she, but in those few years he had on her, was an extra amount of experience, something she wished she had.
''I've had a little help with my fighting.'' She said quietly, casting a slight look over her shoulder and at Burnout who was walking purposefully across the courtyard. ''Before today, I didn't know how to fight.''
''Ah,'' Scree said. ''that explained, I can let go of the little mistakes in your rather frayed fighting pattern. It takes time and patience to develope your skill properly.''
''That it does.'' Burnout rumbled from behind as he slowed his approach. ''You should take any advice Scree gives you to Spark. He's wise beyond his years, as horribly cliche as it sounds.'' The big Decepticon smiled.
''You're too kind.'' Scree said, with a little mock bow, hand on chest plate.
''At this rate, a few more days, and we will be ready to depart for your first assignment.'' He said.


Seranta 4 - Outpost

A lone figure sat in the far corner of the multi-racial bar, watching as the various species of all colours, sizes and viscosity went about drinking themselves under the tables and starting the occasional fight. He sat hunched, his multi toned grey, silver and black armour glinting sharply in the bright neon of the sign that hung on the wall just off to his right. A small, organic creature with rough, deep green skin and three eyes shuffled up, holding a tray at chest height balanced atop one webbed paw. The female looked her patron up and down, taking in the sourness that seemed to radiate from his metal bulk.
'' 'nother one o' dem Energon things?'' She asked raggedly in a high pitched voice.
Turbulance slowly turned his head in her direction, looking down at her from the large table he was seated at. Two large, burning red optics focused lazily on her.
''No. I'll be leaving in a moment.'' He grumbled and looked away, back into the heaving floor space of the back alley bar.
''Suit yerself, traveller.'' She stated and shuffled off into the crowd.

Since being outcast by Krusher, he'd been wandering from place to place, trying to avoid any Decepticons. The seeds of rumour his former boss had sewn throughout the Decepticon ranks had spread like wild fire, reaching everyone from the Autobots right down to the insignificant bog creatures of Myridz. No longer bound to Cybertron law due to his current status as a dead bot, he was left to do his own thing, which was fine by him. He'd quickly come to learn that being 'dead' had its advantages. He'd discovered a few lost Cybertronians, and had gained connections with them, surving on hand - to - hand trade. The three he'd met consisted of an ex - Decepticon, someone who'd left the floundering ranks of her so-called brave leader, and now went from place to place selling anything she could get her hands on. The second, a factionless Cybertronian went about doing everyday tasks on the planets and stations he visited, but preferring the courier aspect of his odd-jobs. Another, much to Turbulance's bewilderment and amusent, was an Autobot. He was small, insignificant looking and went around as a freelance maintenance bot, acquiring his needed equiptment of the moment through passing trade and shady dealings. Turbulance, on the other hand, preferred to be in the thick of it, taking on any mercernary work to pass his time whenever he got bored.

Right now, he was staring blankly into the multi-heighted throng of critters and monsters on the main floor, chin rested on the knuckles of his steepled alloyed hands. Staring blankly on appearance, but thinking hard on the inside, his processor working overtime, formulating a plan, that ranged from the downright childish to the cruelly cunning; anything to bring Krusher down a notch or two, and with any luck, humiliate him, hopefully with the Autobots or some other Decepticon of higher rank in his presence. But then, why do that, when Roadtrain and co will have a field day with such a moment? He could imagine the repurcussions, and he grinned, a nasty chuckle escaping his metallic mouth, making a pair of customers look at him as they walked by. He rose from his seat and headed toward the door, slapping a small sliver of a flexible plastic like strip on the higher end of the bar that was designed for the much taller of the patrons. The Troll like creature grunted acknowledgment at the tip.
''Hope to see you here again, friend.'' He snorted as politely as he could, for the tips he gained, served as his bi-weekly wages.
''I'm sure you will.'' Turbulance muttered almost absently as he walked out into the strange light of the streets.
Outside the bar, a brawl involving a group of Turoxans had spilled into the road, the fight going unnoticed until a couple of the larger members of staff at the bar came out with long, electrified poles to seperate them. Turbulance watched for a few moments then looked to the east, and at the large pillar mounted clock that sat hideously in the center of the circular town center at the end of the grubby and narrow street. All he needed to do was cross it, and vanish into the alley opposite and await one of his connections to turn up. Unless they were already there.

He walked out into the town center, a poorly maintained circle of run-down trade huts that sat against a tall, faceless wall of roughly cut brown stones. Trade here was in full swing and all the different races and species from the different parts of the galaxy went about their daily business. Something knocked as politely as possible on Turbulance's leg. He looked down to see a thin, near skeletal figure with the head of an insect and body of a bird, its multiple long arms and legs stick thin.
''What do you want?'' He rumbled irritably.
''Spare some money for the poor, sir?'' It asked, holding a thinning tin cup up with a shaking claw.
''Get the hell away from, pest.'' He growled and made to kick the creature away from him when something caught his optic.
Across from him, stood in the shadows of the opposite alley, a short figure stood, leaning casually against one wall, arms crossed, watching the world go by. Turbulance proceeded to ignore the creature and set off across the center circle. The robotic figure looked in Turbulance's direction and a smile slowly crept across its metallic features.

''I've been waiting for you to arrive.'' The new Cybertronian said.
''We weren't supposed to meet for another five minutes.'' Turbulance replied evenly.
''Does it really matter now you're here?'' He replied.
Turbulance gave a slow shake of his head then looked around at his surroundings. It didn't really matter if you didn't check for any unwanted audio receptors listening in on your conversation, because on this outpost, almost anything went. Still, it was a force of habit, and one that had served him well over the years.
''Did you manage to keep track of them?'' He asked.
His smaller - for want of a better word - companion nodded.

''The Epitaph's left that planet Earth. Dunno where it's headed next, but they seemed pretty determined to go it alone.''
Turbulance gave him a questioning look.
''Autobots...?'' He prompted slowly.
''They have a big, white ship, yes?''
''Yes.''
''Then who ever's in command of the Epitaph just had them marooned in deep space. A set of Latch Mines can do wonders to one ship, y'know?'' The smaller bot replied wistfully. ''I remember when my ship got some Latch Mines stuck on its hull... What a mess...''
Turbulance sighed.
''Any ideas on the Epitaph's co-ordinates?''
''For a small fee, I may be able to remember a few more details, yes.''

Turbulance groaned.
''I have nothing left. Anything I can acquire for you?''
There was a long moment's silence, then he brightened up, his blue optics shining vividly.
''A teleport modulator.'' He said, snapping his metallic fingers. ''The kind you can find on portable, free - standing Space Bridges.''
Turbulance gaped. A few days back, he'd sold one that he'd been hanging on to. He'd stolen it from Krusher while no one was looking. The task was hard, and had required an immense amount of skill and cunning, but he'd pulled it off, the only problem being, that the worm hole the Space Bridge had created spat him out on some back water planet that was inhabited by nothing more than tiny seven appendaged creatures that resembled barbed wire. Thankfully, this old space station, now used as a sort of half-way house, was sharing the barren world's system.
''I'll get you one.'' He said. ''When d'you need it by?''

The ex-Autobot put on a show of thought.
''You've got a week. Tops. Anymore days beyond that, and the transaction's off, got it?''
''Meet back here?''
''Do me fine.'' The little ex - Autobot said with a smile. ''Have fun, and good luck.''
Turbulance turned and walked away, leaving the contact in the shadows. Now he just had to try and locate that teleport modulator. It was more than likely halfway across the galaxy by now. Better start looking now. He thought bitterly. He looked up at the sky. It glinted all shades of colours, rippling like water, changing from a light blue, to green, to pink, to purple, the effect created by the ageing environment generators that kept the old outpost inhabitable for organic beings. To leave the station, he'd have to make his way to the port before he could transform and start his hunt.

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