Nothing You Plan, continued
Title: Nothing You Plan - part 2 of 2
On the sixth day since losing Enny, Astrotrain decided he had waited as long as he could stand. He went out as soon as the tower went up. Since his usual pattern was five orbits at higher altitudes before descending, he stuck with that, torn between hoping he would have email awaiting him from Enny, and afraid his inbox would be empty. What do I do if she didn’t make it? She could be trapped somewhere! passed unwelcome through his processor.
In range of the human comm satellites, he logged in. His relief was so thick he could taste it when he saw he had three emails from Enny.
The first one read like gibberish on the first pass, but Astrotrain deciphered it and was impressed by Enny’s decision to improvise a human-sounding analogy for their current state:
- From: c.w.cooper@graffiti.net
- To: a.t.rockwell@graffiti.net
- Subject: catching up
- Text: I made it to the boarding school after the accident. The headmaster is letting me stay with my child while I recover, says my skills are welcome here. I never did learn to swim, nearly drowned in that wreck. Am okay now. Did you get home? Did you get fired? How is your brother? I miss you, think you could visit us here if you want to. Otherwise, I'll get home when I can. Let me know how you all dried out.
You made it! was followed closely by You love me, as Astrotrain read the second email that said simply, “Are you okay?”
The third email made his spark want to burst:
- From: c.w.cooper@graffiti.net
- To: a.t.rockwell@graffiti.net
- Subject: worried now
- Text: Please reply. I'll try to talk a friend into going to check on you if I don't hear back soon. I can't get home on my own, much as I'd like to. I may be able to book a flight someday, though. Miss you lots.
He had no idea who the ‘friend’ might be, but hoped it meant she was in so deep with the Autobots that she could prod one of their spies to risk himself on a mission into the Nemesis. The time stamps were in the middle of the day on the last three days. She has periodic access to the web, he inferred.
He thought about how to work within her analogy. He replied:
- From: a.t.rockwell@graffiti.net
- To: c.w.cooper@graffiti.net
- Subject: Re: worried now
- Text: no need to send a scout, am ok... miss you more!!!!!! did not get fired yet, still employed. Brother, too. Supervisor got demoted. that is good and bad. he wants to know all about the boarding school, find out what has changed since his kids went there. Big Boss has approved me to come visit at will. i can be there early next week, pick you up. do i need a special pass to get on campus? i haven't been there before, but have the address. Cannot Wait To See You.
He reread it once, and decided that last sentence needed extra capitalization for emphasis. Then he sent it and went about his procurement run. Steel and fuel could always be had from facilities deep in mainland China.
With Megatron eager to get intel from someone with free access to the primary Autobot base, Astrotrain needed it to be Megatron’s idea to have him go out more regularly. How do I lead him to suggest I go out every day now? he thought, delaying at his favorite power plant while he thought.
At Soundwave’s next daily tagup, Astrotrain changed his internal mantra for Soundwave’s benefit: Cobweb has intel for me, and can plant misinformation. It was a challenge to keep that on repeat while listening to the others as they each reported in. It paid off, though.
When it was Astrotrain’s moment, he made his report. “My outing last night was a success on all counts: I fully restocked our raw materials, brought in my energon quota for the cycle, and established contact with our agent at the Ark.” Careful use of the word ‘our’ there.
Soundwave said, “We must use our agent to set traps for our enemies.”
Megatron liked that. “Yes,” he said, “and we must stay up to date on what the Autobots are doing.” He was glaring at Soundwave, “This is an opportunity to get daily updates from an insider, something we have never had.”
Astrotrain kept his surface thoughts still, waiting, to avoid appearing too eager.
That evening, Astrotrain was ecstatic to have a response waiting for him when he descended for his sixth orbit:
- From: c.w.cooper@graffiti.net
- To: a.t.rockwell@graffiti.net
- Subject: Re: Re: worried now
- Text: See you soon! We are clear with the headmaster - he knew I was hoping to hear back from you. The guard at the gate will be on notice to let you through. Go around to the back door and let yourself in. Best if the students don’t see you. Be aware it is under construction: the frame is only roughed out and the floor inside is narrow. Lights are not installed yet. I'll meet you just inside. I am your special pass. Be kind to the gate guard. It would be best if I could tell them the day, if you can let me know in advance. Otherwise, just get here when you can.
He knew he needed to plan ahead. All he really wanted was to fly to the Ark to get her back immediately, but he knew a delay to get both their cover stories solid would serve them well if it became necessary to maintain it in the long term. I’ve done harder things, he told himself. Calculating the time difference at the two locations, Astrotrain replied:
- From: a.t.rockwell@graffiti.net
- To: c.w.cooper@graffiti.net
- Subject: Re: Re: Re: worried now
- Text: Cannot wait!!! Sunday. Sunday. Sunday! barring casualty here, which seems unlikely given i am golden with the Big Boss at the moment and nearly everyone else is walking on cracked glass, i will go out shopping on Sunday as soon as I get off work. should make it to you by midmorning. let me know if you need me to bring any of your things from home, or pick up anything you need on my way, especially snacks or Medicine. does the school commissary have what you need?
He returned to base as planned and did his best to maintain his post-outing routines.
The next evening, he had one more response from Enny: “All I need from you is you. A refill of my prescription would be nice, but I can live without it. Sunday cannot arrive soon enough, or stay long enough.”
All I need from you is you, he read and reread and wondered how his spark casing didn’t melt.
When he returned to the Nemesis that evening, Astrotrain filled a few small dispensers with catalyst for Enny and tucked them into a subspace pocket. Nothing else to occupy his time, he was fighting being giddy with anticipation. I am lost, he thought. Focus on the plan, he chanted in his mind.
He made it through Soundwave’s daily meeting on Sunday with Focus on the plan, on repeat.
Soundwave’s surface scan definitely picked that up. He motioned for Astrotrain to linger as the others left the tagup. “Question: is there a problem with your instructions?” he asked.
Astrotrain would have liked to curse, but fought it in every layer of his processors. “No, Soundwave, I’m just excited because I have never been to the Ark,” honesty on the surface, “and will have to fight my desire to be the one to blow it to dust.” He channeled Blitzwing’s battle lust and hoped it would ring true to Soundwave.
Soundwave’s optics looked impressed above his battle mask. “Understandable: it is desirable to have this planet’s resources for ourselves. Orders: exchange intel with our agent and avoid contact with others. Do no damage.”
“Will do,” Astrotrain answered, heading out.
After three orbits, he decided his usual five was too many. He headed for the Oregon wilderness.
Astrotrain was not used to navigating forest lands. He deorbited and dropped to a tree-skimming altitude, hoping to fly low enough over the terrain to avoid everyone’s sensors: the Autobots’, the locals’, and the other Decepticons’. He had no way to be sure. He homed in on the coordinates he had received from Soundwave and was surprised and relieved when he made out the wreck of a Cybertronian ship embedded in a mountain. The life of the planet had definitely grown up around it: if he had not been actively scanning for it, and known to expect it right there, he would not have noticed it.
Now, what did Enny mean by the ‘back door’? he thought.
-:-Flyer, identify yourself! SEFOOM!-:- someone hailed him over the radio.
Astrotrain considered his options and his instructions. He wondered if that last were a word he didn’t know. He decided to hedge, -:-One who will not harm the Ark.-:-
-:-I have you - YOWZA! - in my sights, Decepticon!-:- the Autobot threatened, -:-But I was told - TAPOW! - to expect you. Go around back - BLAM! - and land. You’ll see the cave. KABOOM! -:-
Sorting through that and determining that it made perfect sense if he ignored the comical but distracting insertions, Astrotrain responded, -:-Aye. Thank you, guardian.-:- He assumed that since he could not see the source of the transmission, it was probably not the Guardian robot he had heard the Autobots had with them, but some smaller mech serving as the ‘gate guard’ to whom Enny told him to be kind.
Astrotrain flew around to the face of the mountain one hundred eighty degrees from the Ark’s resting place and transformed to land on his feet as gently as he could near the tree line. There was no proper valley on that western side, he had to pick his way down carefully.
Astrotrain was not built for climbing down a rough, tree-spotted slope. He managed to keep his feet the whole way down but took out a few trees as he went and left an obvious path through the snowy patches he could not avoid. His scans showed him a cave entrance in the shadow of the trees at the head of a gully, so he made for that.
Once there, he realized there was nothing for it but to transform to train mode and roll in blind: it was his only mode that would fit without scraping the top of the entrance. He rolled in slowly and stopped as soon as he was sure there was an open space overhead to allow him to stand.
“Astrotrain!” he heard Enny call his name and his systems raced in excitement. It sounded like she was deeper in the mountain. He looked up into the cavern, and saw she was on a metal grate landing across an open space of about four of his body-lengths. She had her auto-mode headlights shining as a beacon for him in the darkness.
“Enny!” he called back, happy to see her. He flew in root-mode up to the landing. He decided it looked too small for him to land on it. He held his arms out to her.
As if it were what he intended, Enny transformed and jumped from the landing. Astrotrain caught her as gently as he could against his chestplate. For joy, he flew up to the top of the cavern, then swooped back down with a laugh, hugging her.
He was so happy at the feeling of her hugging him back that there could have been a platoon of Autobots lying in ambush in the ample shadows and he would not have cared. He landed with her pressed to his chest and realized she was laughing too.
“It’s good to see you!” he said, and held her up so he could see her clearly.
“You love me,” she said, still laughing, caressing his hands happily where she could reach.
Astrotrain brought her to his optic level and folded himself into a seated position on the cavern floor, below the landing and with a view outside through the entrance he had used. For reply, he kissed her face.
Enny tucked her partial battle mask out of the way to kiss him back. It was the only thing he could imagine that could be an improvement over hearing her laugh like that.
They forgot for a time where they were. Edges of plates were shifted, interface cables connected, memory banks shared. It was such a relief to be in Astrotrain’s arms that Enny might not have noticed if Shockwave himself landed on the grate over their heads. “We have time,” she breathed. Bits of memory of past interface sessions mingled with each of their fantasies about their reunion.
The real actions of the moment blended with memory and imagination. You love me, circled through their processors with giddy mutual appreciation, acceptance, and anticipation. By unarticulated agreement, neither overloaded because neither wanted to miss a moment of the time they had.
Astrotrain was relieved to feel Enny’s energon system was well charged and her spark energy seemed balanced. He had feared finding her barely functional, running in a deficit worse than the one she was in the first time they interfaced by cable. He hugged her tighter, and rested his back against the wall of the cavern. It was mostly smooth, and had obviously been worked on by some heavy machinery. He was surprised at how little dust there was in the area.
“How did you arrange for us to meet like this? The sentry let me pass,” he whispered, “Enny, I-”
Enny shared with him the memory of her conversations with Prowl and Jazz.
Astrotrain was not sure how much of either side of those conversations were earnest and how much deception. He understood he was expected to deal with their Autobot handler before leaving. He felt Enny expected some reaction from him. “The tactician survived,” Astrotrain marveled. “Scrapper thinks he ended four Autobots that day.”
Enny found it funny that was the first thing Astrotrain took from the memory. She laughed again, and felt the effect the sound of her laugh had on him. It only made her like him more.
“After we talk to the Autobot,” Astrotrain began, enjoying everything about getting to talk to Enny, “let’s go flying? If you’re advertised as a transfer from Cybertron, you ought to be able to come and go at will. I can bring you back before I have to return to base.”
They thought about that a while, each appreciating the memory of the first time they went flying together.
“Hmmm,” Enny hummed against the side of Astrotrain’s helmet. “I think it might be best if you dropped me off farther away. I can drive back under my own power.”
“How will you get in? I didn’t notice Autobot sigils on your plating,” Astrotrain said, confused. He looked at her, there in the near-dark, and saw no faction mark reflecting the red of his optics. He sent her the highlights of the conversations he had with Soundwave and Megatron about her role as their agent in the Autobot base.
Enny laughed at the image of Soundwave dangling from Megatron’s livid grasp above the deck of the Nemesis. “You had a psychic moment,” she teased.
“Psychotic, maybe,” Astrotrain laughed with her, “and lucky.” He nuzzled her face. So glad you’re okay! he sent her, with the memory of seeing her washed from the train station, and the moment Megatron jumped him, when all he had in his processor was desperation to get her back.
I’m fine, Enny sent him, with the memory of her plating being reconditioned. “No sigils,” she said. “I got rolled like a grain of sand in that flood, lucky my plating didn’t get torn up worse than it did. I have no idea how my tires got blown out…”
“Wouldn’t the rest of the crew expect you to have obvious badging?” he asked.
“The gossips here like spy stories,” Enny said, sending a memory of something Prowl said, “so we let them make up their own. Lack of badging is something to focus on, that should be juicy enough to distract from things that are more important. I can meet you out in the world going forward, use my badgeless form in a way both sides can see as their idea.”
“Cloud the Sky,” Astrotrain said, finding it amusing that Enny had chosen that turn of phrase on her own. Because you used to fly, he remembered.
“Yes,” she chuckled. It was no longer painful for her to remember life as Comettracker.
“Let’s go,” Astrotrain said, standing up. They disconnected and stowed interface cables, and resettled armor plates. Astrotrain knelt then to meet Enny on her level. “I miss you in general. And I miss your help with the repair work. But I understand this arrangement will let you keep an optic on your child. We can make this work for us.”
Enny trailed her fingerpads down his face. “You love me,” she whispered.
Astrotrain laughed lightly and dimmed optics, then picked her up and flew to the landing. He placed Enny on it.
She jumped up and down on the metal grate to demonstrate its sturdiness. “I think you can land on this deck,” she said.
Astrotrain tested it with his hands, exerting as much pressure as it took to assess the platform’s strength. He found it passable, though he could easily tear it from its moorings if he wanted to. “Ok,” he said, “as long as I land gently, I think you’re right.” So he did.
The structure held firm, shifting a bit as one anchor slipped a micron as it took his weight. “So, I wait here, then?” he asked.
“Yes,” Enny said, looking up at him. She reached a hand up to his, and he took it in his large one before kneeling to be near her. She smiled and touched his face again with her free hand. “I won’t be long,” she said.
“I’ll be right here,” he said, letting her hand slip from his.
Enny left him to go get their Autobot contact.
-X-X-X-
Jazz took his time after sending the message to Cobweb via Ratchet. Never having met either Triple Changer in person, his opinion of them as a concept had changed drastically after learning that a ‘Con-built minibot had been taken by one as a partner in any sense of the word. He decided it boded well for them all, if the war-built Decepticons were also bucking stereotypes established by those who came before. Like Sides and Sunny, he thought, who prove assumptions about their character wrong all the time.
He got himself a cube of energon from the common room and took it to the old pressure hatch around the corner. Mirage joined him as planned. They passed the hatch and closed it behind them, then parked themselves there to wait for Cobweb as arranged. Mirage engaged his disruptor and faded into the shadows between Jazz’s position and the ladderwell hatch. Jazz sipped his high-grade and selected some new music to play on the data pad. Humans experiment with all kinds of sounds, he thought, trying to place each different type of tone in the mix. He offlined his optics to focus on his audial receivers.
Quiet time with a stiff drink and new tunes ranked high in Jazz’s list of good ways to relax. That his music would help mask Mirage’s presence as his backup only made it better.
When he heard a metal-on-metal tone that made no sense in the music, he cycled his optics back online. Cobweb was just closing the ladderwell hatch behind her.
Jazz turned his music down and subspaced the datapad. He could still feel it in his systems, and hoped it was just loud enough to help Mirage stay hidden. “Hey there! All ready to talk, little lady?” he asked. “It’s no hardship for me to wait for you.”
Cobweb dimmed optics at him and reopened the hatch for answer.
Jazz walked over to join her. “Lead the way,” he said, moving his hand gracefully in the direction of the ladder. “This is really your show,” he purred, “so we’re clear.”
Cobweb brightened one optic at his words but said nothing. Then she started back down the ladder.
-X-X-X-
Astrotrain had moved to sit beside the too-small hole in the wall that served as the transition from the metal grate landing to the spacecraft ladder well. He could not see them come down the ladder, but he heard the light clanks of metallic feet and hands using the metal ladder. He heard the difference when the rungs changed from those mounted to what had been a space ship to those that must be mounted directly in granite. He leaned over to see Enny drop from the last rung to the landing level. He could not help but smile at her. “Hey you!” he said fondly.
Enny smiled back and headed toward him. Even though he knew she went to get the one called Jazz, Astrotrain’s smile faltered when the bright white Autobot dropped in behind her.
Astrotrain did not know what to make of the mech’s smile and easy-going body language. Enmity, or at the very best, cold professionalism was what he expected. Jazz seemed to have music in his spark. It was hard to imagine that the smile on the faceplates could possibly not reach the optics hidden under the visor.
When he spoke, Jazz’s voice was harmonic and welcoming to match the smile: “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Dame Cobweb?”
Seated, Astrotrain was only a hand taller than Enny. Jazz was also taller than she, but he was standing, and Astrotrain’s torso was at least twice as wide as either of theirs. Astrotrain smiled despite himself and waited. If Jazz has given Enny the power in this deal, I can support her, he thought.
He would have sworn he heard faint music as Jazz passed him to go out to the edge of the landing.
Enny stepped into Astrotrain’s personal space on his left side, casually setting her right hand on his shoulder. His left arm instinctively curled around her. She made optic contact with him for a moment, then turned to half face Jazz from there, clearly meaning to be a united front with Astrotrain. She was smiling, and her optics were tuned to their bluest white. “Yes,” she said, still looking up at Astrotrain. “Astrotrain, this is the Special Ops Lead, Jazz,” she turned her face fully to Jazz then and said, “Jazz, this is the Chief Mechanical Officer, Astrotrain.”
Jazz extended his right hand to Astrotrain in the old warrior’s greeting, still smiling.
Astrotrain found it unnerving to receive such an offer, but he took it, gingerly extending his dramatically larger right hand to grasp Jazz’s forearm and shake it firmly but with care not to tear the smaller mech’s arm off. That close, he could definitely hear music coming from the Autobot. He did not know what to make of that, and wondered how this mech could possibly be the one notorious for getting into and out of Decepticon spaces unnoticed.
Jazz was not enough larger than Enny to matter to Astrotrain. If he realized the Triple Changer could crush him at will, he did not let on.
An image of the striped bot flung across the cavern to crash against the far wall flashed through Astrotrain’s processor. Blitzwing would do that, he thought, and forced a small smile. “I look forward to working with you,” he said. He found he meant it.
Jazz chose to lean casually against the railing of the landing, close enough to converse comfortably with both of them but far enough to not intrude on their space. Astrotrain decided Jazz was easily as charismatic a leader as Soundwave, and likely as cunning. He has a mix of good and bad data to send with me, Astrotrain thought, As Soundwave sent me with a mix of good and bad data this trip.
I wonder what sounds he’s masking with the music? Astrotrain thought. And is it for our hearing, or his?
When the moment came, Astrotrain surprised himself: he told Jazz which bits were real data and which were red herrings from Soundwave. Enny has my true loyalty, he realized. He decided to tell Jazz a real Decepticon secret, something he himself was not supposed to know: “Scrapper and Hook are building something they have code named ‘home run.’ It is in a prototype phase now, but their goal is to reduce the transit time to Cybertron. Where it takes hundreds of groons now -” several weeks “- and time dilation effects are dramatic, they mean to make it nearly instantaneous. I think they also mean to eliminate my old job. Joke’s on them, though: I hate hauling their afts to battle and back.”
If his choice of time with her over the Decepticon cause surprised Enny, she gave no indication.
Jazz was surprised by it, if the flash of optics under the visor meant anything. His voice and demeanor did not change, though. “Thank you for sharing that,” Jazz said, inclining his head to the larger mech, “we will make a show of investigating all of the bogus leads, to not risk you or our arrangement.”
“Very good,” Astrotrain replied, matching the small bow of the head. Mirroring, he reminded himself, builds trust. “Similarly, I will share both the good and bad data from you,” he said, “but in future, please do not tell me which is which. I know Soundwave reads surface thoughts, but it is a challenge sometimes to control them fully when he is in range. Putting mantras on repeat can only save me so many times.” He felt Enny’s hand tremble slightly on his shoulder. He stroked her lower leg with his left hand absently, in a gesture of comfort.
Jazz’s smile faded. “I understand completely,” he said grimly, “I will do what I can to make it less difficult for you.” Then his smile returned. “I do appreciate the risk this represents,” he said, ”for both of you,” looking from Astrotrain to Enny and back. “How can we make this data exchange easier going forward?”
Enny spoke up, surprising both of them. “I’ll remain unbadged,” she said, “and go out to meet Astrotrain in different locations each time. Make it look like I am running an errand for my new friends, since you trade with the locals,” she had clearly put some thought into how to sell her presence to both sides as ‘our spy’ to all who were not in on the plan, “and as long as I am not followed from here, by either faction, there should be no trouble.”
Jazz thought about that. “It sounds like you’re as worried about being trailed by Decepticons from here as you are Autobots.” It was almost a question.
Jazz did not agree fully with Enny’s comment about remaining unbadged. “That’s all fine and good,” he said thoughtfully, “except one thing. Bear with me, it isn’t crystal clear what bothers me exactly. Decepticon leadership called you here from Cybertron specifically to infiltrate our ranks, yes?”
Jazz waited for an answer. Enny dimmed optics once for ‘yes’.
Jazz turned to pace a few steps along the railing. He continued, “So, they aren’t to know that we know you’re not an Autobot at all?”
-X-X-X-
Mirage and Jazz had practiced climbing down the ladder together, to get the timing of their hand- and foot-falls in synch. The only problem came when Jazz dropped off the ladder, leaving Mirage to work out for himself how to join him without drawing attention. Mirage waited until Jazz was out on the landing, speaking to their new contacts such that their attention should be wholly on him. When Jazz started pacing in thought, Mirage lowered himself silently to the stone below. He landed without scraping, and made himself a shadow on the wall where he could see Jazz over the large mech’s shoulder. He could not see the little one at all.
He hoped Bluestreak could see her from his blind outside the natural entrance.
-X-X-X-
Astrotrain thought he saw where Jazz was going, and as much as Jazz was probably right, Enny would not like it.
Enny dimmed optics one time, again, because that was also true.
Jazz completed his paced lap, and got slowly around to his point, “So, the fact that you rolled in here banged up so bad we couldn’t see your etched ‘Con markings was just dumb luck?” Astrotrain heard the question mark and tensed, but Jazz kept pacing and talking, “For the sake of Soundwave and Company believing we accept you as one of ours, don’t you think you ought to wear Autobot badges when you’re around us? Or, have we really succeeded in keeping the Cassetticons completely out of our spaces? Rolling unbadged out in the world among the locals is something a lot of us do,” he took off the prominent Autobot sigil he wore on his chest to show it was magnetic, “but when we’re walking around, we generally wear them for comfort. It’s-” he paused as if considering how to explain himself, “the only uniform we have.” He stopped pacing and looked out over the empty cavern, giving them his back.
Astrotrain read it as a gesture of trust. He patted Enny’s leg again, and hoped he gave her assurance.
Astrotrain’s shoulder plates positively itched with a sense of being watched. He chalked it up to being in an enemy base for the first time ever without coming in fighting. This is never going to be comfortable, he thought.
Enny cycled air a few times. When she spoke, she matched Jazz’s thinking-out-loud tone, “I had wondered what they were thinking, when they commissioned this frame with its clear single purpose, and then Shockwave etched the Decepticon symbols into the plating. I thought Shockwave was an idiot, but he may be a genius: if I were coming to you from deep cover on Cybertron, a long-lost Autobot spy, wouldn’t I have Decepticon badges? To remain in their ranks this long, I would have had to. And resources are so scarce on Cybertron, the original purple pigment is long gone. So, if I had been there the entire time the Ark was offline, I would have certainly been damaged and repaired many times over the vorns, so the minimal plating and etched Decepticon markings fit the story I was built to sell. If I then rolled in here, banged up and ready to be reintegrated with the faction, I’m sure I’d report directly to you as head of Special Ops, and you’d need me to be ready to roll incognito at a moment’s notice.”
Enny was looking up at Astrotrain again when she finished. She shook her head at him, as if to say, Autobots are dense!, then turned to Jazz. “Look at me,” she said, and waited for him to turn around.
Astrotrain wondered whose side Enny was really on.
Jazz turned, and leaned back against the rail, appearing relaxed and open.
Enny took one step toward Jazz, still close enough for Astrotrain to discreetly maintain a light touch of his hand on her ankle. Enny made a sweeping gesture that meant to encompass the entirety of her tiny frame. “I am not built to intimidate anyone,” she said, “no matter which faction this frame was built by, it was built for one thing: passing unnoticed. Red or purple, in color or only an outline, a faction mark on this frame serves exactly no purpose.”
Her own, Astrotrain decided. Enny stepped back where she had been, deep in Astrotrain’s personal space. Do I dare think of it as Our Side? he wondered, brightening one optic as he watched the Autobot process Enny’s reasoning.
-X-X-X-
Bluestreak was content to watch the vicinity of the cave entrance on the back of the mountain: it was the first time in months his skills as a sniper had been called for. Prowl made it clear that overwatch is my primary role out here today and the shuttle-train-triple-con is only a target if he fights us. If he isn’t defecting he must be negotiating in there like trading information or-
His processor stilled. Something that wasn’t native moved in the gully. He used his spotter scope to identify Ravage. -:-Bluestreak to Warpath,-:- he hailed the one on sentry duty. He did not use his external vocalizer.
-:-Warpath here. HAW! Go ahead, Blue.-:-
Ravage must have been monitoring for radio comm: he dropped to a crouch and stilled as Bluestreak watched him through the scope. -:-We’ve got a four-pawed party crasher in the gully but Cassetticons never work alone so please roll around back on a sentry sweep to scare up his partner in crime.-:-
-:-WA-OW! Will do, Blue. Be there shortly. KAPOW! Warpath out.-:-
Bluestreak heard Warpath rolling and did not look away from where Ravage lay on his belly in the scrubby trees. He trusted Warpath was relaying the message in to Mirage.
-X-X-X-
The sound of a tracked vehicle rolling outside the cavern came in clearly to all three of them. Since Mirage had not given up his disruptor cover, behind Astrotrain, Jazz knew it was just Warpath doing his job as sentry.
Astrotrain tensed. Cobweb scowled.
Jazz received one radio chirp from Mirage. “I’ll concede that,” he said slowly to Cobweb. There was no second radio chirp, so there was a contact outside who was just a watcher. Jazz stepped closer to them to whisper, “We have company outside, a ‘Con spy.”
Neither asked how he knew that.
“Whoever it is hasn’t made the entrance yet,” Jazz said, “So I’ll get out of sight up the ladder to avoid him seeing you talking to anyone but each other.” Jazz passed them.
“So, we’re good to trade intel and Enny- Cobweb stays safe here?” Astrotrain asked.
“Yep, we’re good, man,” Jazz smiled his most reassuring smile as he nearly danced past Mirage. His goal was to keep their full attention, leave no room for them to notice the disrupted shadow. “She’s as safe here as the rest of us.” He had one hand on the ladder when Cobweb spoke.
“Tell your sentry to make it look good when we leave, like he didn’t realize Astrotrain was in here,” she said.
Jazz laughed. “Sure thing, but you duck and dodge like he’s serious. Be a shame to hit you because he’s trying to miss!”
Jazz went up the ladder, leaving them to take their leave in their own time.
-X-X-X-
Warpath rolled around the mountain just above the treeline. He scared up a volt of vultures.
One of them was not biological. It joined the circling with the birds, but its Cybertronian nature stood out against the sky, because Warpath knew to look for it. He selected a bio-friendly non-damaging thermal round for a warning shot.
As Warpath was lining up the shot, he heard the sound of a large mech transforming. It sounded like it was near, but muffled by the mountain.
Warpath fired the thermal round in the general direction of the circling vultures. The biological birds scattered when the round passed them on its way up. At the top of its trajectory, it exploded and sent a wave of heat and light out in a flat disc. A work of art! Warpath thought, appreciating Wheeljack’s creation.
Warpath watched the avian Cassetticon - he could not tell if it was Laserbeak or Buzzsaw - take a tumble through the air, losing only a bit of altitude before putting himself to right.
-:-Jazz to Warpath,-:- he got over radio.
-:-Warpath here. HA!-:- he sent.
-:-Act surprised when our guest leaves, send a blast or two his way,-:- Jazz directed.
-:-You got it, boss. PAPAM! Parting shots are fun!-:- He heard someone running as he queued up a pair of simple explosive shells, the kind sure to wake up the neighbors, if they had any left.
Ravage broke from cover to leap at Warpath.
As Ravage hit the top of his arc, a shot rang out. A slug hit him squarely in the shoulder, and knocked him sideways. His claws grazed Warpath’s tread as he fell.
-:-KAZAM! Nice shot, Blue!-:- Warpath radioed the sniper.
-:-Target practice,-:- Bluestreak said.
-:-Be sure to miss the shuttle-train. TRAGOW!-:-
Something hit the cave entrance from inside. Rocks fell, dust rose, and a space shuttle that did not belong in the Oregon wilderness took to the air. Bluestreak and Warpath both lined it up in their sights, and each chose to aim slightly behind where a proper leading shot would go. It was not exactly dumb luck that put Bluestreak’s second slug in Warpath’s mortar, making it detonate early in its flight.
The explosion shook the departing shuttle, but it - he - accounted for the dispersion and went to orbit.
Neither saw where the avian Cassetticon went, but they both watched through their scopes as Ravage ran away, favoring his injured front leg.
-X-X-X-
A black Mini Cooper rolled up the dirt track to the Ark main entrance a few hours later. Warpath was still on sentry duty, and hailed it as it navigated the old dry creek bed. “Driver! Identify yourself. YOWZA!” over voice and the unencrypted radio.
The unfamiliar and unmarked car stopped. “My designation is Cobweb,” Warpath heard, “I work with Ratchet.”
Warpath transformed and walked out into the clearing in front of the Ark. “You’re the new transfer from Cybertron? SAZOO!” he said.
Cobweb stood up to meet him. White optics dimmed once in an affirmative.
Warpath clapped Cobweb on the shoulder tire happily, as if they were old friends. “Nice to meet you! YOOP! I only got here recently myself,” he said, “Warpath. WOW! My name’s Warpath. I was stationed on a moon of Nebulon. NATOO! At least, I think it’s still called Nebulon. How has Cybertron fared?”
Cobweb had minimal faceplates, partially covered by a battle mask, but smiled at him tightly. Warpath decided he was almost sure Cobweb was a femme minibot. The idea of meeting one - proof that not all were dead - made him happy in its own right.
“Cybertron hasn’t changed,” Cobweb said slowly, “for good or bad. Shockwave-” she paused, thinking, “maintains the status quo, waiting for Megatron to return. Pockets of Autobots-” another pause, “ remain, but are disorganized. Always searching to find enough energon to follow the Ark and make it here.”
“I’m glad we’re not all that’s - LEYOW! - left,” he said. “Maybe we can grab a drink sometime - SEZOW! - and compare war stories. I’m due to take a lap. LAPHAW! Have a good night!” Warpath transformed and went back to his watchstanding duties.
“Nice to meet you, Warpath,” Cobweb said softly. She went inside, unhurried, and unharried.