Chapter 10 - An Unwelcome Experience

Ankmor

Steele followed Roadtrain closely, driving around the larger pieces of debris he couldn't get over in vehicle mode. His metal treads clanked and squeeked every-now-and-then as he trundled quickly across the scarred surface of Cybertron. For the past couple of hours since leaving base in a hurry, Roadtrain had been vocally quiet. Only the unsteady rumbling of his engine gave way to how he was feeling right now.
''Sure she's gonna come back this way...?'' Steele asked hesitantly.
Roadtrain remained silent. Steele slowed and cast a look around at the devastated land.
''No.'' Was the low, rumbling reply.
Steele's attention snapped back into place.
''Oh. D'you think maybe she's taken another route back to base?'' He asked bluntly.
''Which base?'' Came the sour reply.
Steele hesitated in his reply. Roadtrain had a point. Was she comming back to their base, or going elsewhere? Did she even know that they now knew about her real purpose in the war? A small part of him hoped so. He'd grown to like Jetstream as much as the others had. But as much as he disliked her right now, he still didn't want her to be subjected to Krusher's wrath. They'd all faced his anger numerous times. But that was over petty, insignificant things compared to this. This was treason, not failing to complete a mission or poking fun at the boss. This was possibly the most heinous crime of all. The sound of a jet engine tore through the silence and both Decepticon's thoughts. They looked up, locating the sound almost immediately. A familiar silver and pale blue marked shaped split the low hanging clouds.
''Looks like she is heading back to base afterall.'' Roadtrain grunted.
He slammed on his brakes and his tires squeeled in loud protest as he slid around to face the other direction.
''I gotta see this.'' He sneered and accelerated away, back towards base.
Steele hesitated a moment, unmoving in his position. He then turned around and chased after Roadtrain and the fast receeding form of Jetstream.


Nyxen 3

George collapsed against the chainlink fence, his breath comming in short, hard pants. His lungs were burning, heart hammering and he was soaked through with sweat. He couldn't recall the last time he'd ran so much. Infact, he didn't think he'd run so much in his entire life. But he had to keep running. He had to keep moving. Especially if he wanted to survive. He cracked a blood shot eye open and surveyed the haggard space he'd ran into. It was enclosed; two chainlink fences and two brick walls surrounding it. The concrete ground was so abused that it was more like gravel, with weeds and grass creeping up from wherever it could find room. There was an old telegraph pole behind him, stood crookedly in the corner, overlooking the long forgotten postage stamp of a yard along with the tree that was slowly but surely making its way over and through the fence. He groaned and sagged. He could hear those needley metallic feet getting closer and closer once more. And it was getting dark. And he was out of energy. He struggled back to his feet and leaned against the fence, eyes fixated upon the entrance to the secreted away yard. He'd made a bad mistake by comming here. And he knew it as soon as his backside had touched the concrete. A tall, spindly figure crept into the shadows that lurked within the entrance to the yard. Georged gritted his teeth and slowly sidled towards a lump of wood that looked as if it had been dislodged from someone's garden fence. He picked the length of wood up gingerly and wielded it awkwardly like a weapon. A light, electronic snigger floated across the small expanse. George twitched numbly. The machine crept forward, fingers rearranging themselves, giving birth to long, impossibly thin alien blades. George swallowed hard and adjusted his grip on his lump of rotten wood. Spinner crouched low and lept at the Fox. George swung the wood as hard as he could. The air was sliced and the wood was cut cleanly in half. He kicked out then howled in pain and fell over. Blood poured from his left foot where Spinner had pierced it.
''So predictable.'' The Decepticon hissed irritably.

He raised one hand, showing off the blade that'd been forced neatly through George's foot. Blood glistened intently on the blade as the street lamps nearby snuck their false light into the secluded area and touched the metal. Spinner sniggered again and then landed a bird-like foot on George's chest, forcing him all the way to the ground. Spinner leaned over him. George looked up with wide eyes and into the red optics that loomed over him. An alien alloyed hand shot forward, rearranging itself and gripped his muzzle tightly, tilting his head to one side. George looked on out of the corner of a wide eye as a blade was brought close to his face. He gripped the machine's limbs and tried to force it off of him, but Spinner held fast, not even twitching under the organic's need to remove him from his soft body.
''Hmmmm....'' Spinner cooed innocently. ''I wonder what it's like beneath...''
A blade tip, sharper than a scalpel sliced neatly through the skin of his jaw. Blood seeped lazily out, matting the fine fur there and tinting it red. George squeeled in pain, the odd noise becomming muffled and lost in his shut muzzle. His paws tightened on Spinner's legs as razor sharp pain crept along his jaw. Spinner paused a moment, silently contemplating the fidgeting Fox beneath him. He re-applied the blade to George's jaw and traced the cut along his lower jaw line, cutting until he reached his throat. Spinner stopped just as he was about to cut into softer flesh. He made a few more cuts to the same area and slid a needle-like finger tip under the flap of skin he'd created. George yelped, tears forming in his eyes. The Fox's fidgeting did nothing but keep the weight of the Decepticon on top of him, pinning him down. His yelp swiftly turned into a muffled scream as Spinner started to peel away his skin, making new incisions here and there, following a mixture of his own course and organic medical knowledge. He wanted to try and keep the organic's hide in one piece if he could. He knew a few people - Cybertronian and alien alike - who would be willing to pay big money for a perfectly good hide of fur. Especially one that hadn't been tampered with too badly.
Blood dribbled to the shattered concrete as the Fox and Decepticon continued on, hidden away from prying eyes of strangers.


Gygax

Gundog hefted a lump of metal, a twisted piece of shrapnel that Galaxy had walked in. He inspected it closely then cast his scrutinizing gaze toward Solar and Blue Falcon. There was a solid CLANG and Solar toppled from his chair with a grunt. Blue Falcon started to laugh harder. Solar groaned and pulled himself back into his seat, rubbing at his head. Gundog snorted a harsh laugh and twisted a smile.
''As I was saying,'' Gundog said, ''don't pick on yer elders. It'll hurt.''
''Bleh. You 'ad it commin.'' Solar muttered, a grin twitching at the corners of his metallic mouth.
''When you three are quite done with annoying each other, I have something you might be interested in hearing.'' Raid said as he walked into the main control room.
All optics went toward their commander and the room fell silent. Flashpoint walked in behind Raid and stopped short of his station. He eyed up the fresh dent in Solar's golden helm. Solar pointed at Gundog who in return folded his arms across his chest, taking on a slightly more defensive posture.
''He started it.'' He muttered derisively.
Galaxy then looked up from her post.
''True that.'' She said bluntly.
Both Raid and Flashpoint gave her an odd look. Galaxy shrugged as best she could in her heavy armour, emitting a slight clanking noise as she did so.
''What? I ain't no rookie-sitter.'' She said somewhat defensively.
''Who you callin' a rookie, woman?'' Gundog snapped playfully.
Galaxy twisted a smile, leaned back in her chair and flexed her knuckles, gaining a few metallic snaps and pops as she did so. She opened her mouth to reply to Gundog's retort with her own, but Raid cut her off.
''If you can continue this daily exchange of insults later, I would greatly appreciate it. Afterall, we do still have to perform our bit for the Autobot cause. This war won't win itself, y'know.'' Raid said flatly.
Deadmetal and Speeder hurried into the room and took up their workstations, turning to face Raid. The large mech looked around the control room. All his crewmen were in place and at their stations, listening intently to what he was saying.

He held the pause a moment longer before continuing.
''In the past few hours, I've recieved some new data. This new intelligence came directly from the top informing us that a squad of Decepticons intends on seizing the Gygax Energy Depot.''
''Which squad? Any idea?'' Deadmetal asked.
''Krusher's. Or at least, what's left of it. Apparently Turbulance has left for pastures new and your sister,'' He said, re-directing his gaze toward Solar, ''has gone back to her own unit.''
Solar sagged slightly in his chair and grumbled something to himself.
''And he intends on doing this without an entire crew compliment?'' Galaxy snorted. ''That's pure idiocy.''
''I smell an easy target.'' Gundog sneered from his corner.
''Unless he's got back-up from another unit.'' Speeder pointed out.
''There was no mention of that, but it's a possibility.'' Raid said.
''So I take it that we're the mugs who're gonna go and make sure he doesn't take our precious little depot?'' Blue Falcon asked, hopefullness edging his voice.
Raid dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
''Yes. We're the only unit that's between him and the depot. There will be another unit waiting at the depot, just in-case, though.'' He said wryly.

''That's reassuring.'' Speeder muttered with a light-hearted roll of his optics. ''Who's gonna be heading the depot guard's back-up?''
''Not entirely sure. I know Ironhide's in the area, as is Cliffjumper and Juggernaut. But I don't know their exact locations, so it could be either one of their units.'' Raid replied evenly.
''Well, whichever one of them it is, the depot's definately in good hands.'' Deadmetal grinned cruelly.
''Hopefully they'll only have to worry about Krusher and nothing more.'' Flashpoint said.
''Aye. I don't intend on letting any of them off light.'' Deadmetal said.
''Like you ever do?'' Flashpoint smiled.
''I wonder how much they'd fetch for scrap...'' Galaxy wondered outloud, leabning back thoughtfully in her chair.
Raid shook his head, a small smile tilting the corners of his mouth.
''Asides from helping to protect the depot, I'm hoping we can re-take the Trading Post that he's holed up in.'' Raid added.
They all looked thoughtful for a moment.
''With that back in Autobot control, we can start getting more supplies through to the other Autobot bases around here.'' Solar said after a moment.
''Exactly. I, personally, think that the Decepticons have overstayed their welcome there. And it's about time we gave them a helping hand in vacating the premises.'' The tank said with a grin.
''When do we start?'' Blue Falcon asked cheerfully.

''Tomorrow: First thing. But just in case he brings his schedule forward, I want two scouts securing the main routes.''
He pointed at Deadmetal and Solar.
''Dee, you'll be covering the main road. Solar, I want you keeping an optic on the Narrows. I want immediate reports of any activity going on over there, understood? I'll send Blue Falcon and Speeder to relieve you of your shift, so you get a chance to rest-up.''
Both Autobots pulled themselves up from their seats and made for the exit.


Ankmor

Jetstream landed gingerly in the main yard. Debris and shrapnel scrunched and squeeked metallically under foot as she took a few steps forward. She paused a moment, curiously looking at the remains of the main entrance to the base.
''What in the name of Primus...?'' She mumbled and stepped through the gaping threshold.
Her powerful optics picked out the outlines and shapes of the main foyer of the old trading post. She spotted a trail of dried Energon dribbling across the floor, disappearing into the shadows of the adjoining hallway.
She heard a slight shuffling and she carefully approached the location of the noise. She rounded a corner and found Hookshot staggering awkwardly out of the medi-bay, his armour heavily dented, scarred and even hanging off his body in some places, revealing some of the more sensitive circuitry and weaker metal plating beneath.
''Hookshot? What the slag happened?!'' She asked rushing toward him.
She tried to help the large Constructicon to stay upright, but he was far too heavy for her and so he ended up sliding down the wall to sit on his ankles.
''Autobots.'' He said bluntly, voice edged with static. ''They raided the base. Made off with the remaining Space Bridge components.''
''You're lucky to still be online...'' She said, scrutinizing his wounds.
Hookshot nodded numbly.
''Roadtrain rescued me. Hauled me into the medi-bay before I went offline.'' He said blankly.
Jetstream shook her head.
''What about Krusher?'' She said after a moment.
''No idea.'' Hookshot mumbled. ''I didn't see Galaxy with the others.''

Jetstream made an odd noise somewhere deep within her vocal processors and looked down the corridoor. The lights flickered at the end, poorly illuminating the gaping hole of the doorway that once stood there. Beyond was the main control room. There was a dim, blue light. Only a few of the computers had come back online and were fully functioning. She looked back to Hookshot, who was staring blankly at the wall behind her.
''I'll be back in a minute.'' She said softly and made her way towards the main control room.
She navigated the chunks of debris and stepped awkwardly into the devastated room. Computers were sparking and the moonlight was seeping in through the gaping hole in the domed roof. Jetstream looked around, inspecting the damage. There was no sign of Krusher. Then something solid slammed into the side of her head. The sudden, unexpected impact sent her reeling. She lost balance and fell hard on her aft. There was a horrible buzzing in her head and her vision had suddenly become full of multi-coloured static.
''Welcome back, Jetstream.'' Rumbled a familiar voice. ''Or whatever your true designation is.'' It added sourly.
''Ungh... Whut?'' She put a hand to her head and fingered the dent there. ''Krusher...?''
A large hand came down and thick fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing hard and hefting her to her feet. Krusher slammed her against the remains of a computer station, gaining an odd squeeking noise of surprise from her. He held her firm as she wriggled in protest against his actions.
''What're you doing?!'' She hissed.
''Trying to get to the bottom of this little mystery.'' He said calmly.
''What mystery?''
''The mystery about where you scurry off to to do your reporting.'' He said gruffly.
''I already told you. I have to go to central command. Megatron's orders. Now let me go!''
''Oh, I don't think so.'' Krusher said smoothly. ''Y'see, once the computers came back online, I made a little call. Naturally, I didn't manage to get through directly to the boss himself. But I did manage to have a word with his second-in-command. And, according to Starscream, there is no record of a Decepticon called Jetstream. Or at least, a living one, anyway.''

Jetstream snorted dismissively. Krusher's grip tightened.
''If you believe Starscream, then you'll believe anything.'' She wheezed angrily.
Krusher growled.
''True; I don't believe a word he says. But the information on the Decepticon Jetstream that he sent me was no lie.''
He then proceeded to hurl her across the room. She landed hard, sparks flitting upward and outward as she rolled and bounced across the shattered floor, to come to an abrupt stop via one of the computer set-ups.
''Jetstream has been offline since the start of the war! She had an unfortunate run-in with the Autobot guardian Omega Supreme whilst on a scouting mission to Iacon!'' He roared and stomped toward her. ''Who are you?!''
Jetstream looked up at him. Her deep red vizore had become fractured, making it difficult to see straight.
''I'm not a spy!'' She hissed angrily.
Krusher administered a hard kick to her abdominal plating.
''And how much information have you passed on to the enemy?''
''None of your slagging business!'' She snapped.
Krusher brought one of his secondary weapons online. He opened fire. A single shot slammed into her chest armour. The heat seared the silvery sheen, leaving it blackened and buckled. He shot at the same area again, putting a hole through her armour. The circuits beneath fizzed and hissed. The edge of the wound smoked as Energon dribbled down her front.

''Sir-! ... Oh...'' Roadtrain said as he and Steele entered the room.
Krusher looked over his shoulder at them, red optics aflame with anger. He then looked back down at the doppleganger. He went into a crouch and pried her vizor off, discarding it to one side. He twisted a smile.
''Ah. There. You're most definately an Autobot.'' He said in a dangerouse tone.
Her blue optics flickered. Those two shots were hideously close to her Spark chamber and had rendered her left side pretty much inoperable.
''Steele, fetch me a chain to secure the prisoner with. We have another job to do.'' He said.
Steele hurried off and vanished into a side room. Roadtrain slowly approached Krusher's position. The large mech slowly looked up at him.
''You're a valued member of this team, Roadtrain.'' He said earnestly. ''I'll make sure you're greatly rewarded for your discovery.''
For once in a very long time, Roadtrain found himself without a reply. Instead, he cast a dismissive glare down at the Jetstream clone, who in turn averted her gaze elsewhere.
''These do?'' Steele asked as he hurried over, thick chains clanking and dragging around his ankles as he fought to stay upright amongst the debris.
''They'll do perfectly.'' Krusher said and took ahold of the chains.
He wrapped them around the femme tightly, her armour buckling with a metallic groan under the tension. He hefted a thick piece of twisted girder and rammed it hard into the ground, tieing the chains to it, securing his captive firmly.
''I don't think you'll be going anywhere for a while.'' He said and turned to his meagre crew. ''We have work to do. Crash is bringing some help.''
That was all he said. Steele and Roadtrain nodded in acknowledgement and followed him from the room. The Autobot wriggled, but to no avail. She tried sending a transmission. But the knock to the head had badly disrupted all her attempts to do so. All she could do was sit and wait for the outcome of the comming battle and hope that the Autobots prevailed.

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