Chapter 7 - Some Minor Torment

Nyxen 3 - George's Workplace

George looked around the vast lab, duffel bag in paw. He had been lucky to get past security, after they'd learned that an intruder had attacked and killed one of the duty guards the previous night. George just flashed his ID and carried on, making his way into the depths of the labs, making up some excuse about needing to inspect one of the ongoing projects. And now, he stood in the same room as one of those ongoing projects. The two scientists who were running it jointly were still talking to the police about the goings on of the previous night. Unfortunately, George had a perfectly good idea about who had killed the security gurad. The same creature that had planted the severed optic on his pillow. George had another look around at his surroundings and ducked behind the heavy white curtains. Beyond them, he froze in place. He'd heard about this project, even seen pictures and news reports. But this was the frist time he'd seen it up close. The creature was huge. Almost filling the room, which was the biggest room in the building and had originally been deisgned for bulk storage of crates and shipping containers. He remembered comming down here on his first day of work and finding four heavily laden lorries parked neatly in this very room. Now, it was filled with just one thing. The mechanical creature's feet were pressed up against the solid, reinforced steel garage door at the bottom, the remains of its head up against the wall opposite. George pulled his mind back on track and hurridly made his way toward the end with the head. He dumped his bag on the floor and un-zipped it. He unravelled the optic from his swath of creased clothes and unfurled the wiring that hung from the back of the optic. He gently placed it down on the thick white dust sheet next to the other five optics and zipped his bag up again. From somewhere beyond the curtain, the door to the makeshift lab opened. A single set of foot steps entered. George held his breath and slowly picked his bag up. The curtains at his back moved and a Whippet appeared, dressed in a knee-length black skirt, a white blouse and a long white coat. Various coloured pens and a few pencils protruded from the top pocket of her lab coat. She adjusted her thin rimmed glasses and looked at George curiously.

''Can I help you...?'' She asked.
George stared at her for a moment. Then he flashed his ID at her and smiled.
''Uh, no, not really. Just checking out your progress, is all.'' He said hastily, gesturing at the twsited and charred mess that made up Carjack's head and neck.
''Well Mr. Furman,'' She said politely, ''as you can see, we're making significant progress in piecing this creature back together. Unfortunately, we think that there's still some pieces missing from it.''
''Oh?''
She gestured at an area of Carjack's neck.
''Here. The otherside of this beast's neck is still relatively intact, so we can plainly see that there's a metal support rod missing and several armour plating sections. As for the head, I don't quite know what we're missing...'' She trailed off uncertainly.
George wandered down the length of of the body, putting on a performance about inspecting it. He stopped at the abdominal area and frowned. A few of the abdominal platings were peeled back or had been removed.
''In the reports it said that only the head and neck sustained seriouse damage and that the body only had minor scrapes and dents...'' He said slowly, eyeing up the large hole.
The Whippet hurried up to him. Then she faultered at what George had pointed out.
''That wasn't there yesterday.'' She said after a moment.
Then she climbed up onto the offline Decepticon and did a little inspection of her own. She ran a fingertip across the length of a scar on one of the armour plates and Hmmmed.
''This isn't right...'' She muttered. ''We've tried for years to crack through this monster's armour. And now, it's just been peeled open like an orange...''
After a moment's pause she suddenly looked up and directed her gaze at George.

''These scratches weren't made by any of our tools.'' She said hurridly. ''I think one his friends might still be here...''
George's shoulders sagged and an eye twitched. He really didn't want to be discussing the subject of mechanical aliens right now. Especially when he knew who - what - made a mess of the offline alien that lay before him. Little did they know, that it was Spinner, that same small Decepticon that often terrorized George's dreams, who was the downfall of the large, warped Decepticon that lay with his head in pieces before them. A chill ran up his spine.
''I want a full report of this as soon as possible.'' He said and turned away, ducking back through the curtains.
George let the lab door close behind him. He clung to the duffel bag and made his way back upstairs, to where the offices were. In the lobby, he stepped onto an elevator and went up to his floor. The doors opened with a polite ping and he cautiously stepped off the lift. Of course, the machine would be back in its place beneath the sideboard in what was once his home. But that didn't stop his imagination from running amuck. What if there were more of the transforming machines lurking around? What if his washing machine had relatives, and one of them was lurking in his office, ready to strike? Or even if one had taken up its place beneath the sideboard to play household appliance while the real one was creeping around the office block, seacrhing for him? George shuddered. He was at his office door now. He hesitated a moment, paw on the handle, ready to push the door open. He took a deep breath and went in, ready to be pounced on. But nothing happened. He stood within his office and all was silent and in place. He walked around the room, looking under his desk as he went. He was the only occupant. He closed his door and went back to his desk, sitting down heavily in his chair.

He stared at his clock for several minutes, mind empty of all thoughts. A breeze blew in from the open window behind him, tickling the fur on the back of his neck. He idly reached a paw back and scratched at the area of his neck that itched then came out of his stare. He turned around in his chair. He hadn't opened the window when he came in. And he hadn't left it open yesterday, either. There was a slight oily tinge to the air. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as he sniffed hard. There was also the slight scent of wet clothes and washing powder, too. He started to slowly rise from his chair. Something on the otherside of his desk made a solid thump against the thickly carpeted floor. George paused, knees bent, paw flat on his desk to brace himself in such an awkward stance. His ears were perked high, eyes wide. He slowly looked to the side, to the location of the noise. A low, electronic sounding hiss rose from the floor. George swallowed hard. He hazarded a look over his desk and promptly fell back with a scream. Spinner screeched at him as he lept up and onto the desk, talon-like feet scratching the polished surface to hell.
''Give me your flesh!'' Spinner leered, snapping sharp, metal claws together.
George screamed again and took off for the door. Spinner let him go. He'd come in through the window, and that's the way he would go out. The Decepticon cackled and hopped neatly from the table. He could hear people comming. They were comming to find out why George had flipped out and ran screaming from the building. Spinner climbed out of the window and shimmied down the metal drain pipe. Jumping the final two storeys he landed heavily on the tarmac below. His head swung around on the end of his long, flexible neck. There were people about, but they were preoccupied by the police and the Fox that was now running from the building in a state of utter panic. Spinner ducked into the bushes opposite with a snigger and pursued the frantic organic.


Iacon

Roadtrain slowly trundled to a stop as the large, domed city came into view. He was worn out, energy levels running horribly low. He stayed in the shadows of a wreckage that he assumed was once a storage building of some sort. He doubted that any wandering Autobots would take it upon themselves to attack him. He had no weaponry to speak of and his armour was flimsy at best. In short, he wasn't considered much of a threat, if one at all. The most he could do was throw a few punches and insults around and hope that he moved quick enough to not be rendered into a heap of scrap metal. He looked on as Jetstream landed before the extending bridge of the great, walled city. His powerful optics homed in on her. She looked around cautiously, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Her posture was hunched and her movements lagging, an obvious trait that her own energy levels were running dangerously low. Roadtrain watched curiously. The bridge extended and the large doors at the other end of the massive walkway opened. Several Autobot guards were stood directly inside the city gates. Jetstream walked past them and she was escorted away. Not in a hostile manner. She was treated more like a long lost friend. Roadtrain kept his optics on her as she walked out of sight, the gates closing behind her.
Son of a glitch... Roadtrain muttered to himself.
He waited for a moment longer to gather his thoughts. Then he turned around and drove off, wondering how to explain the situation to Krusher. And wondering how the large Decepticon would react to the news.


Gygax

''How many fingers am I holding up?'' Speeder asked, waving two raised digits around.
''None if you don't behave yourself.'' Raid rumbled as he took his seat in the command chair.
He pulled the monitor set around on its arm and read through the reports that littered the several screens before him. Blue Falcon nudged Flashpoint in the side and then scurried off to sit at his station on the otherside of the main control room with his comrades. The young Autobot looked on with intense curiosity with his friends as Flashpoint brought the subject of the Space Bridge up.
''Uhm, what're we gonna do about the other half of the Space Bridge?'' He asked after a moment.
''Yeah, we got the base all hooked up and ready. We just need the pylons and the main computer.'' Gundog said.
''Only problem is, the Decepticons have had sufficient time to recover.'' Deadmetal grunted.
Raid slowly peeled his newly regained gaze away from the various monitors and pushed them aside. He looked at each of his crew levelly.
''We're still going to go get it. My long-distance sight is clearing up. I can now hit the four league target dead center again.'' He said.
There was low chorus of relief.
''Any ideas as to how we're gonna go get the second half?'' Solar asked.
''I say we smash Krusher's door in and ruin his day. After all, we now outnumber his crew.'' Galaxy rumbled with a slanted grin.
''I completely agree.'' Blue Falcon said.

''Sounds good to me.'' Gundog said and stretched, his limbs creaking from lack of movement.
''Short, sweet and straight to the point. Just how I like it.'' Speeder grinned maliciously.
Raid eyed Galaxy for a long moment. The large Autobot didn't even shift under his gaze.
''Let's do it.'' He said bluntly after a moment.
''Really?'' Blue Falcon blurted.
''You mean, we get to go in, all guns blazin', shoot the place up and take no prisoners?'' Gundog asked, rising from his seat.
Raid also rose from his seat, bringing himself to his full height.
''Got it in one. And we go now.'' He said.
Now all Autobots were on their feet, mild bemusement shifting very quickly to a morbid form of eagerness.
''Speeder, I'll need to disable whatever security systems Krusher has set up.'' Raid said. ''I don't want him knowing we're there until his front door's in pieces.'' He said. ''Deadmetal, Gundog, you'll be covering him incase he's spotted by one of the Decepticons.''
''I suggest we spread out as we move in on the base. If he picks us up on any radar scans, then we'll be all over the place and not bunched together.'' Deadmetal said.

''Sounds good to me.'' Galaxy said. ''You guys can go in the front door. I think I might just drop in.'' She then grinned.
''Right, team up and pick a direction.'' Raid said.


Nyxen 3

George scurried around the corner of the building and pressed himself against the wall. He panted hard and sweat matted his orange fur. He blinked hard a couple of times and hazarded a look around the corner. Nothing. No sign of a psychotic robotic washing machine. Just people. People and cars, all going about their daily lunch time business. George heaved a sigh and sank to his heels, head against the wall. He closed his eyes momentarily, listening to his heart pounding in his chest. How long had he been running? Where was that wretched machine? Surely he hadn't outran it. Had he...? From somewhere ahead, a bin clattered to the ground, spilling its rancid, overripe contents across the cracked concreted ground. George's eyes snapped open and he sprang to his feet. A feral Raccoon scurried into the shadows with a piece of discarded food in its mouth. George sighed again. His heart felt like it was going to explode inside his chest. Then there was a low, electronic sounding growl to his left. He didn't bother looking. He knew there'd be three piercing red eyes staring at him, hidden, metallic mandibles clacking together in anticipation of what was yet to come. George took to his heels again and ran across the road. The sound of squeeling tyres, car horns and angry shouts followed in his wake. Spinner watched the Fox run again. He'd been at it all morning. And the amusement of chasing him was starting to wear off. It was time to kick it up a level. The chase would end, and it would end painfully. Spinner turned around and made his way across the small, concreted area behind the buildings and climbed the brick wall, disappearing over the otherside with a dull thump. It was now time, he decided, to wait for the sun to go down. Then he could go home, back to Cybertron.

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