CHAPTER 5: We're not in Kansas anymore

SOME WORDS TO KNOW..

O'hiiden --(Oh-hi-den) The last campment before reaching the capital of the empire
Bractos --(Br-ack-tus) A capital metropolis in ancient times

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He came down from the cirrus levels to catch the better wind and found himself amongst the flocks of cumulus there ----- immense towers of modeled vapor looking as white as the snowy drifts of the human earth at winter time. He was setting his course towards it; to the pin light in between the puffs, watching it grow bigger silently and imperceptibly.

“Rumble ...”

He stretched. Almost there.

“Rumble? Rumble! Snap to it!” Cyclonus jabbed him hard with his elbow and the ‘clouds’ Rumble had been traveling for in his subconscious thoughts winked away instantaneously --- Not the pin light however. It hung there to the west of him. The great star that had been high and bright overhead when they all first arrived here now huge low like a dim copper penny thrust between the cracks of the horizon. Its fragile light spilt through the prison bars in uneven fractures. If this was truly Cybertron, even that pitiful display was strange enough. In the reality he knew, days and nights on Cybertron were largely indiscernible for it was never truly daylight and yet it was never completely dark either. Sure, there were stars bigger and brighter than others, but Rumble couldn’t place this one into any of his memories.

“Wha ..what’s going on?”

“We’ve stopped.” Scourge replied, “And they cut off the electric. ..Look.” He squeezed one of the bars. “I’d rather not guess what for.”

“Man. I must have shut down.” Rumble wrinkled one side of his face in a moment of confusion.

“Always imagining the worse aren’t you, Scourge?” Cyclonus used one of the corners of the cell as a brace to stand.

“Well I think I have every reason too.”

“Quiet.” Cyclonus peered out through the grating and criss-crossed the scenery to a gathering of metallic steeples crowned by basins of fire all threaded together by arches of gray stone. Below them, dirty tents and iron bunkers dotting the grounds lit up by photon lights seemed to challenge their ancient ancestors glowing above.

“It’s much to small for a city.” Cyclonus gathered, “I suspect that it is some sort of cantonment evidently.”

A sudden loud chink boomed across from them and for a moment the entire roller cell vibrated and purred.

“Un?!” Rumble snapped his attention from the ceiling to the floor in one quick motion, “What was —?!! Unn!” Another set of thunderous booms echoed in the contraption as jets of steam screamed from the rear. Cyclonus had just turned to see when the bars slide apart and the door began to jimmy it’s course to the ground.

“Up!!” An immediate order barked, “Stand up all of you!!”

Four foot soldiers raced aboard. When one of them lifted his weapon, the commander, Sarterius emerged stepping up the gangplank to the inside and pushed the rifle down, “There is no need for that, soldier.” One single lense flowed across the three prisoners, “I would like to believe that our company is much more wise than that, hmmm?”

“Yes, Sir.”

That was wayyy too deliberate. Sarterius --He clearly carried his sophisticated bearing; straight, stern, solid. Just as Cyclonus had first sensed. He did not flaunt what he had; he simply stated it plainly in manner and attitude. His gaze never softened. Intense, he examined each Decepticon offering no words, only looking them over briskly as he paced slowly in front of them.

“As you may already know, O’hiiden is our final stop before we arrive in Bractos in the morning.” Sarterius finally announced, “As fellow Decepticons, I have decided to grant you the liberties to refresh and stretch yourselves as you are not yet convicted.” He turned smartly on one heel back towards where Cyclonus stood, and pressed his stare deeper into the second-in-command.

Why always him? Cyclonus toyed the question in his thoughts. Not Scourge, or even Rumble, but always him! Did this Sarterius sense something there just like he had of him? Did it show? It was doubtful, but still very possible. If so, the general was hardly admitting much and only turned away from him continuing on with his speech.

“However,” He said, “I will make this very clear only once that you are still ALL accused prisoners. If you choose to barter my goodwill with any attempt to escape these men will ask no questions! You will die!” The power in his tone faded only the slightest and exchanged with a new contamination of sarcasm, “I should like to think that statement is significant?”

There was that boring eye again....that single rose sphere deep and stabbing. Sarterius crooked a finger at two of the four guards on his way back down the plank and immediately the same soldier as before lifted and jabbed his rifle forward. “Alright.” He said, and motioned the direction with the prop.

“Come on now. Hurry up and move out!”

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1

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The soldier’s pistol once more pointed the way off. (As if they they didn’t get it the first time around) Growling his demands, he shoved Rumble forward and butted him with the weapon when he didn’t react fast enough. Everything the guard ordered, he said twice: “Get moving! Get moving! Over there with the others! Over there with the others!”

“Is that all of them?”

“There was only these three.”

“Okay. Close it up.”

When he stepped closer to where Scourge and Cyclonus stood, Rumble glanced back over his shoulder just as the door of the goliath was cranking itself back into place. It’s tired gears screamed loudly for oil the entire way. One puff of exhaust later, and at last the colossus was quiet. The first of the two guardsman departed across the camp.

“You can wait over there.”

While the fourth kept his lenses fixed soundlessly upon the three Decepticon prisoners, the third trooper moved to a pewter-toned pedestal of patchwork metals with a yellow button that flashed to life when he floated his palm in a semi-circle motion over the top of it. Several snaps, a pop, and a whir later, a bowl shaped field of current appeared instantly puddling with a strange mauve liquid.

“Here.” He seeped a mug into the brew passing it left to Scourge. “Better take it.” He urged, “You might not get the chance to later. Come on! Next!” The soldier stretched the second cup out to Rumble. “And you?” He flicked his attention to Cyclonus.

“Take it!” Rumble jollied, “This stuff is great! Hey, er.. We can have more? Right?”

Nodding, the soldier took Rumble’s mug, but now his gaze sailed over all three of them “I have other business to attend to at the moment.” He said, “In the meantime, Pycon here will be keeping a watch over you. You are not permitted to wander the grounds. You are to stay here within this area only.”

The trooper began to walk away, but stopped suddenly and turned again to face them.

“Oh. ...and one more thing. Don’t gamble you lives. It would be ludicrous for any of you to disobey the general.” He arced his brow, “He doesn’t grant second warnings.”

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2

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Don’t try to escape ---They said it so often. Ha! So had he numerous occasions. Yet for the first time Cyclonus found an odd humor in the declaration. “Escape.” He smirked to himself and turned to face the mammoth cell, “And just where to?”

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3

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Scourge’s brow lowered at the mysterious concoction and it’s pearled swirls of aquamarine lapping in between the violet. “What exactly is this stuff?” He asked and sniffed at the brew.

“What does it look like?” Rumble nudged him, “It’s energon. What else?”

Scourge just dipped his finger into it, “Rather peculiar looking.”

“Energon is energon.” Cyclonus drank his first sip slow and deep, closing his eyes at the savory rush of his parched circuitry speeding to life. “Ah!” He hissed with a smile, “Hmmmm.. ..not that your cogs will tell the difference.”

Where the first star perished into the crust, it was just as Rumble had suspected, another was beginning it’s journey in the south. Much smaller and only half as bright, he hadn’t even notice it until he caught it panning the scenery before them landing on a convention of soldiers just ahead. Their black profiles stood out in silhouette against the meager rays.

“Looks like those other prisoners we saw earlier.”

Scourge didn’t look. Picking out a familiar voice, he didn’t have too, “And our friend, Sarterius as well, I see.” He said. Guided by the cassette’s pointing finger, his gaze floated sideways to land on four disheveled figures and a fifth who stood erect before them.

“You stand accused and charged with the illegal possession of stolen arms and other such wares of a military nature!” Sarterius strolled before them, “Spreading your unruly, and might I add, rather blasphemes propaganda, you have harbored and protected other such fugitives who share in your betrayal---”

“What did he call them again?” Scourge asked.

“Rougeons.” Cyclonus’ mug was paused at his bottom lip.

“---The Dourjer and his empire will NOT entertain your hostile intentions!! You have been found guilty on all counts of treason!”

“Doesn’t sound to good for them.” Rumble injected.

“They’ve been found guilty. They’ll die.”

True to Cyclonus’ intuition, the scroll Sarterius had held so tightly in his vise as he read their crimes, he now tossed at his feet. A surge of scarlet bathed the rigorous vasts glowing in the vestige just under his helmet.

“You are hereby sentenced to death!”

The words fell like drops in a bucket; booming as staffs of soldiers milling about lifted their heads to the eight others flanked beside the commander. .. The other “business” the trooper had spoke of no doubt. Sarterius didn’t need to grant any order; it was instinct. So was the flush of horror enriching the optics of the condemned.

The moment the general departed the platform on which they stood, the group stepped forward, tipped their weapons, and opened fire. The first three robots fell immediately; phaser fire animating the corpses as servos and ligaments showered the ground. Vital energon and oil drained to the lean of the stage.

“I say that’s that.” Cyclonus said rather passively. Five of the executioners walked away just as the final Rougeon collapsed upon the ruins of his allies, “Such is the price of treason.”

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?!” Rumble’s optics leapt to the lieutenant in disbelief, “Are you even listening to what you’re saying?! HELLLOO!! We’re like one sentence away from looking a lot like them!”

“You have no confidence, Rumble. Neither of you do. It would be as well as if you were leading your ownselves to slaughter. If you have confidence, you’ll live.”

“Confidence in what?”

“Your ability to lie.” Cyclonus smirked the right side of his face, “A hint, Rumble. Know your enemy .....then become them. Cater to them, and their demands. Give them what they want, and what they want to see.”

“And that’s the plan?”

“Considering we have no other options.”

A large combine just feet from the platform roared to life. It’s hulk shell shivered at the mechanisms gearing forcefully inside as soldiers shouted above the clatter. The long worn conveyor belt protruding from the maw of the machine looked more like a black tongue. It sucked the first remains of the Rougeon dead into it’s belly mashing it into indistinguishable pieces. Every time it grated another, the contraption quaked that much more thunderously.

“At least they recycle.”

“That’s not even the least bit funny, Rumble.”

“Hey! Cyclonus is the one who told me to be confident. We’ll be someone’s soda cans next week.”

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4

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“This is it, Galvatron. There’s no doubt this is the same place.” Mixmaster told his commander with every ounce of certainty. Still, he frowned at the boulder on his right. It didn’t look at all familiar ...not even vaguely. Nothing beside him did.

“But this IS it.” He assured himself. His oculars fell to the fanatic winking of his scouter insisting their coordinates was not wrong.

“Are you certain?” Galvatron stepped one direction first, then in a semi-circle the in the other stretching his vision across the haphazard crust and the cherry sherbert skyline beyond it.

The flux was gone now, but it had taken with it one small planet, and had all but obliterated the operations compound of the E.D.C. — Or so reports hacked from Cybertron confirmed. It was too early to tell exactly what else, but now the rose ghost of the storm lofted victoriously in between the fields of spear-tipped rocks. Any one of them could be a candidate for the ruins Cyclonus reported.

“Cyclonus.” Galvatron was reminded, “...Scourge and Rumble.” The storm had taken them too

“I found it!!” Ramjet rushed towards them.

“Where?”

“Over here. I’ll show you.”

So the scouter was corrected afterall. The solar flux may not have destroyed the excavation site, but it had scoured the trace evidence of their being there before. With the mauve blanket being so thick, it might as well have been invisible. No wonder they couldn’t locate it.

“This is it, Galvatron.” Ramjet hiked up the first stair pointing. The Decepticon leader touched the pillar beside him. It was shaking .. No! Wait! He was! Why? He parted his lips to say something, but he couldn’t. There was stillness and silence. Shafts of clean air pierced the wafting rouge around them making it easier to see at last, and Galvatron floated his palm across the pillar and reaching it to the doorway just before him.

Although there were no people in sight, from the rooms within the aged walls came voices: a laughter here; a hostile exchange there; chanting, as of a mantra, softly drifted to greet him. The scarlet of his eyes brightened and flooded wide.

“Eh ... um, Galvatron?” Mixmaster asked confused, “Are you ...”

“Shhhh! There’s something. ..someone.”

“Uh?”

“A Transformer... so great.”

“Pardon?”

“No ..no!” Galvatron closed his eyes, but the fulgurant dazzle of suppressed memory flushed along the filament of his thoughts. ..yet who’s thoughts? His? When? How come he couldn’t remember. He tried to think about it, but his temples hurt painfully, “This cannot be!! It .. It was destroyed. All of it. Wasn’t it?”

Where did THAT come from?!!

“Galvatron?”

“I know this place!!” He finally exclaimed. “I DO!!”

Mixmaster looked surprised, “But how?” He quizzed.

“I-I don’t know how. I just know it!”

“But you’ve never been here before, Galvatron.”

“Galvatron maybe not.” He paused. His tone draining to match the stillness, “But Megatron..”