Nature of the Beast

Chapter 1

Hidden away in a secluded vintage salvage yard across the wide blue bay from Crown City a single black and yellow mech was staring into a large mirror on one end of the salvage yard. On the other side of the yard his ragtag team of 'Bots were busy arguing with each other while their two human hosts tried to get them to knock it off and get along for just five minutes, but he endeavored to ignore them to the best of his ability. There was a loud clanging noise that signified Sideswipe had probably been floored again by either Strongarm or Grimlock that made him wince just as he was about to say something to the mirror. Why did he have to be stuck with a bunch of nuisances who couldn't get along for a single day to save their lives? Emitting a faint groan, the yellow and black mech turned his focus back to the large mirror in front of him.

At any other point in Bumblebee's life he would've thought talking to a mirror was downright silly and made him look like a complete nutcase. It was an inanimate object made of metal and glass that couldn't talk back. Maybe he was slowly losing his mind. But he wasn't about to argue with observation and facts. Each time Optimus had contacted him it had been through a reflective medium ranging from fountains to holographic keypads to lights above an elevator. He had yet to actually see the mirror method work but instinct told him it would – or should. There was no definite guarantee, but the mirror was a reflective surface, so technically it should work and let him communicate somehow. It was worth a shot. Wasn't like he had anything to lose, right?

"I swear we never gave you this much trouble," he sighed. "Did we?"

Only his silent reflection stared back at him.

He sighed again, starting to feel discouraged, "I know this might be asking too much...but could you somehow send some help? I don't care if it's just one 'Bot – I need some help keeping these guys in line and combating an entire prison ship of Decepticons running rampant. Please, please send some help my way. I really need it. If you can hear me..."

Right as he finished that sentence there was a low ominous rumble of thunder from way out in the distance. Far out past Crown City dark storm clouds were brewing as a midday rain shower built up to drench the city in cool water. Rational thinking told him that brewing storm had been the source of the noise, but a less rational part of his processor saw it as a sign that he had been heard.

In one of the massive metal buildings that made up the sprawling city of Praxus a lone mech toiled away in a large office space. He was rather startling in appearance with his brilliant gold and silver color scheme and his falcon-shaped helm. He was handsome in his own way though he would modestly deny such compliments as he considered them undeserved flattery. His height was nothing really spectacular at a modest twenty-two feet tall. Busily he worked away, low stacks of data pads neatly organized by date and relevance. Occasionally he would grab one and skim over the information within with a quick flicker of his dual-colored gold and silver optics. He was looking for something that connected two seemingly irrelevant cases. One was assault and robbery and the other was murder. All information pointed to an unidentified hit mech employed by the up-and-coming crime boss named Snapdragon, based out of the Tagan Heights.

With a soft sigh Counterforce laid aside the data pad in his hand and leaned forward onto his desk, folding his arms and resting his helm on them. He didn't need to look outside to know it was dark out – the near silence in the halls told him that almost everyone else had decided to call it a cycle and return home. He'd been at this all solar cycle but he doggedly refused to give up. Justice never slept as the humans said.

He was exhausted though. Maybe he could just shut his optics for a little while...

When the lieutenant in command of this particular law enforcement building passed by the open door that led into Counterforce's office he didn't see the young Praxian mech at first. His ceiling lights were on which indicated he was still there. The tall red and purple Seeker mech cocked a brow ridge curiously and ducked inside to see if the young investigator was still there and came upon a site he'd grown familiar to.

"Poor kid's worked himself into recharge again," he sighed fondly, shaking his head.

He had given up keeping track of how many times he had found him like this at the end of the solar cycle. Dedicated he most certainly was. Counterforce was his best officer by far. He took his job seriously but he did seem to enjoy it despite the grimness it brought to the table.

Quietly, so as not to wake the young investigator from his well-deserved rest, the mech pressed a hand onto a panel near the door's inner frame and silently darkened the room before leaving for the night. Counterforce had a home he could return to at any time but it wasn't unheard of for him to pass the night in the station. In any event there was no one awaiting his arrival at his residence – he lived alone. So far. Aegis knew about the teasing rumors percolating through his ranks.

He awoke to the sensation of being continuously yet gently shaken and poked and prodded. Blearily his dual-colored optics flickered back to life and he looked around to find who had been doing so. It took him a moment or two to come fully to his senses, and he was instantly on high alert when he found that no one was in the office with him. There was no one to be seen anywhere within his work space at all nor was there any trace of someone having been there in the first place. But he could've sworn someone had shaken him awake and he could've even sworn he had recalled someone whispering his name. Was this someone's idea of a prank?

Armor tightening, he activated his pale gold visor and searched around the room. Nothing – no faint scuff marks from pedes. No heat signatures on the surfaces. There wasn't even a residual spark energy trace to be found. This was going from strange to downright unnatural. Not even a cloaker could disappear this effectively. He slunk out into the darkened halls with growing apprehension in his spark. Instinctively he grabbed the hilt of the energy blade that hung against his hip and activated the weapon. Brilliant golden light was cast off the gently curved blade and provided a light source for him to use. But he could still detect no one in the halls in front of or behind him. His scanners were blank and his field did not react with anything nearby.

"H-Hello?" he called out down the hall. "Is someone there? Hello? Anyone? Please tell me this is someone's idea of a practical joke...Flint? Flint, are you doing this?"

He kept his optics fixated on the expanse of hall in front of him and slowly back stepped in the other direction. Apprehension was swiftly being replaced by fear at this point and his fight or flight response systems were switching on as his frame readied for a conflict. Energon was pumped into his sensory systems. His sense of hearing, smell, and sight became more acute. But despite all that the hand holding his weapon trembled imperceptibly. This felt like a scene out of a horror film.

He continued walking backwards until he hit something – or more accurately, from the feel and shape – someone.

With a yelp of fright Counterforce wheeled around, shut his optics, and unleashed a bright golden flash from his body that lit the hallway up like a supernova. Wildly his scimitar slashed at the unknown figure, leaving a shimmering arc of gold light behind it. A grunt of surprise told him his flare had successfully blinded his target and that he may or may not have successfully hit said target with his weapon as well.

Once certain the glare from his photon flare had faded he re-opened his optics to check to see who he had hit. He shuttered his optics twice in rapid succession at the sight. It was a black and red Seeker femme about seventeen feet tall, body accented with horns and glowing red details. Her previously burning Predacon yellow optics were now pale maize yellow from the flare. Her wings were angled to show irritation and there was an annoyed scowl on her faceplates. Her arms folded across her chest.

"Gee. Thanks for that, Sunbeam," she hissed. "Now I can't see worth scrap. You made me lose my target."

He gasped in horror and relief, "Primes! I'm sorry, Sen. If I'd known it was you I –" he cut off as his sharp mind began to work again. "Wait. What are you doing all the way over here in Praxus? You're a long way from Kaon. Are you here on business?"

Sentenza's frown lifted somewhat, "I was a tracking a shadow. First encountered it in Iacon near the Hall of Records, then it reappeared in Kaon the next day in an alley. Lost track of it after that, but when I came here the other solar cycle to talk with Half-Pint it showed up again right outside the joint. Followed it here. I was about to corner it when you showed up, panicked, and lit the place up like a firework."

He lowered his weapon, holstering it back on his hip, "A shadow? What do you mean?"

"I mean just that – a shadow. You know, not solid or distinct but definitely there? All I could see of it half the time was a pair of twin blue orbs and sometimes a little reddish-blue sphere about yay-big?" she gestured with her hands to show its size. "Whenever I get too close it disappears. Just poof! and gone."

The way she described this shadow it sounded and behaved like it was intelligent, capable of thinking and planning. It didn't sound like a criminal with a strange ability. Criminals didn't lead their pursuers towards police stations in any event. He mulled the evidence over: twin blue orbs. A reddish-blue sphere. A form that could disappear at will and was obviously sentient. That wasn't enough to reach a conclusion. He needed more information. Everything was too vague. And thank Prima he could get more. Sen never failed when it came to observation.

Counterforce hemmed thoughtfully. "Where did you see it last in here? Maybe we can find it again."

During this exchange the Seeker femme's optics had slowly regained their bright yellow glow as they recovered from the photon flare. With her sight once again functioning she gestured for him to follow her and together they went off in search of her mysterious shadowy target.

"Woo-hoo! Yeah!"

A bright orange and red hovercycle with flamboyant flame decals all over its frame shot through the open roadways of Altihex in a blur, weaving between other slower vehicles like a flaming bullet. Shouts of irritation echoed behind him as someone swerved to avoid him and caused a pile-up collision. Ahead of him another roadway was under repair. Large metal beams leaned against the elevated roadway and gave the hovercycle an idea. This would be a perfect stunt to pull. He just had to hope those annoying patrollers who had no understanding of the word "fun" got on his tail.

Blaring his horn, he gunned his accelerator and shot ahead towards the impromptu ramp. One of the workers near the beams shouted at him to stop but he toned him out with a short laugh and a playful taunt. With a holler of pure delight he shot up and off the beam and went flying into the air. As gravity dragged him back down he angled himself to land, hit ground with a small bounce and sped on with another ecstatic cheer while the workers shouted after him – some in aggravation and some in wild awe at his stunt. Most of them just laughed. Honking again, he surged ahead onto the open highway that led outside the city where he could really let loose on speed. He continued to laugh uproariously, his attention focused on the city behind him in search of patrollers. He was a little surprised that none had come after him yet but he kept his focus behind him just in case. For the moment everything was perfect and he would enjoy it while it lasted.

After traveling for a good four hundred klicks north his scanners picked up a target ahead and he turned his attention briefly to the road in front of him in mild annoyance. This annoyance swiftly turned to alarm and shock that was so great it made his spark stop for a nanoklik.

"Holy frag!" he cried, slamming on his brakes and letting out a second startled curse.

He kept the brakes on as he slid sideways right towards the great blue and red figure standing in the middle of the open road. About a hundred or so feet – and still traveling at a considerable pace – Backdraft switched out of vehicle mode in an effort to slow down faster. It didn't work the way he had planned. Instead of the maneuver taking advantage of friction on his pedes he stumbled and flipped forwards onto his chest before skidding to a stop right at the figure's pedes. This was not one of his most stylish or gossamer hard stops – he was scuffed up and his brake mechanisms ached from overexertion.

'I definitely could've done that better. Sloppy.'

He took a moment to groan and recover and then shyly lifted his head to see who he had nearly run over. For the second time in less than a minute his spark stopped pulsing for a nanoklik. His amber optics went round. His jaw slackened. Standing there in the middle of the open and curiously empty road to Iacon was someone he had only heard about in stories and from his boss – someone who had sacrificed himself to bring Cybertron back online – someone who was no longer among the living. But there he was standing right in front of him and silently pointing in the direction of Iacon, dramatic and silent as a statue.

"O-Optimus Prime?" he stuttered. In mingled fright and reverence he scrambled backwards a little ways. "...I'm not in trouble, am I?"

The Prime made no verbal response. He continued to point in the direction of Iacon while keeping his vibrant blue optics locked on his bright amber ones. Then with a single encouraging nod of his helm he disappeared in a soft blue flash.

He shuttered his optics quick, "Oookay..."

He rose to his knee pikes and gave another hollow groan as he pushed himself to his trods. Weird stuff happened in Altihex every so often, as it did with any other city, but this was taking his city's reputation for strange and unusual and unique a little far. Reports of doppelganger shadows or floating light sphere or anything without an easy explanation was one thing. Nearly running over a long-dead Prime blocking your way on the IC-5 North was another thing.

Optimus wanted him to go to Iacon for some reason?

Slag it. Then he would go to Iacon. At least he could finally see Skylark's home city for once.

He transformed wordlessly and roared off down the road, a trail of fire in his wake.

In orbit around an enormous red giant star in the outer regions of the galaxy a sleek and streamlined blue and silver research ship orbited at a safe distance. Its blue and silver frame reflected the burning red light of the dying star and illuminated the beautiful Cybertronian script on the sides that gave the ship's designation:

CERF Tieyeian Bolt

Secluded on the ship's bridge was a slender midnight blue and silver seven foot tall femme. Her helm was distinctly avian with two winglets extending off the sides of her helm and her frame was dotted with countless glittering lights that pulsed and twinkled along with her life force. Her unusually bright royal blue optics constantly flicked between a data pad in her tiny hand and the numerous readings the ship was gathering on the red giant star in real time. She made no sound for she relished these moments of near silence. All she could hear was the faint purr of the ship's engine and the electromagnetic death song coming from the red giant. It was soothing and helped her focus.

She twitched her wings slightly upon hearing the bridge doors hiss open to permit someone. Normally she would've sighed or groaned in aggravation at having her domain intruded on (without forewarning no less) and her peacefully studious silence interrupted, but a faint friendly pulse in her spark forestalled that reaction. Instead she turned around with a fond smile. Entering the bridge was a youngish blue and yellow mech with cheerful blue optics and an Autobot Elite Guard crest on his arm. In accordance with his youth there were dozens of little light up bits all over his body and he had the angular, handsome build of a young adult.

"Hiya, Smoke," she chirped lightly. Then she turned her attention back to the readings and her data pad.

She tried to ignore the sound of his approach but failed. His gentle nudges of her spark and field as he drew nearer told her he was curious. She felt him lay a gentle hand on her pauldron that she hadn't even known was held taught by subconscious anxiety and unconsciously purred when he stroked it, making her uneasiness evaporate and her whole frame loosen up.

"Whatcha doin' Zee?" he asked, leaning forward onto the controls.

She smiled, holding up the data pad. "Nerd stuff. You wouldn't be interested."

He frowned playfully, lightly poking her between the optics, "Hey, now that's not fair. Just because I'm not a genius like you doesn't mean I won't be interested in your science-y work stuff. Why are we orbiting a dying star again? I couldn't follow half of what your fellow nerds were saying."

Zodiac chuckled and pointed out at the great red ball of plasma visible through the windows. Then she handed him the data pad, "We're here because we had reason to believe this star is a rare hybrid class called a Thorne-Żytkow Object. This star used to be part of a binary system until the companion star went supernova and formed a neutron star. Readings have shown the red giant is producing large amounts of the elements lithium, rubidium and molybdenum – elements that red giants can't make naturally under normal conditions. So, basically a Thorne-Żytkow Object is a red giant or red supergiant star that has swallowed up a companion or wandering neutron star. Once the neutron star settles into the red giant's core it forces it to carry out different kinds of nuclear fusion than it does ordinarily. We're here to confirm if it really is one, 'cause if so it's the first one ever found. Kind of a big deal,"

She finished with a mischievous wink directed at the mentally dazed mech. It was so easy and so fun to get him lost. Confusing him with big words and science talk was downright hilarious.

She smiled and clarified in a teasingly slow voice, gesturing with her hands as she explained in much simpler terms, "Red giant star ate neutron star. Neutron star makes red giant have indigestion. Comprende?"

His confusion lifted instantaneously. "Oh! So...clarify for me: What makes this thing so special that it brought one of the best, brightest, most amazing space minds on Cybertron across the entire galaxy just to look at it and take a bunch of notes? I mean it doesn't sound as cool as, like, black holes or anything."

She smiled indulgently at his question, tapping him on his helm bridge, "Because these things are supposed to be purely theoretical and un-proven as of yet. Now we know they are very real – well, if these readings are accurate anyways. And these objects don't last forever. Sometime in the future this red giant is going to poof out of existence and we'll never get another chance to study it again until another Thorne-Żytkow Object is located. These things don't grow like tulips in a field you know."

Smokescreen nodded in understanding, reflecting on the information. Then he lightly bonked his head against hers with a smile. This little Avioid was special, he'd always felt that. For someone so immersed in her subject and famed for being the first Predacon star-ship captain she was ironically extremely shy – to the point where the mere prospect of interacting with others terrified her – so befriending her and later starting a friendship with her had actually been a unique challenge for him. She was worth it though. He had never once doubted she was the one. She completed him. She was the brains to his social brawn.

"Nerd," he teased.

Zodiac rolled her optics with a smile of her own. "Oh shut up. You know you like my nerdiness. I'm quirky and nerdy and you like it."

She purred again when he stroked her wings and nuzzled her with his helm. This was the main reason she'd let him tag along on this mission. He was the only one who could keep her calm and could help her relax after working too hard. It was a well-known fact to those in the astronomical and scientific community who worked with her that Zodiac had a bad habit of stressing out over the littlest of problems, often blowing them way out of proportion. Then her attention turned to the console which was suddenly blinking with a sense of urgency. Across the wide holographic display screen was a set of highly specific coordinates on Cybertron – the Iacon Spacebridge Hub to be exact – and a message: "An old friend is in need. Go," Zodiac read aloud, one tiny brow ridge rising perplexedly. Down at the very bottom in very tiny print was a glyph name written in very old Iaconian dialect that she couldn't decipher.

She looked back at Smokescreen who shrugged cluelessly, "Don't look at me. I'm not a linguist," he said.

Zodiac considered the strange transmission for a moment in silence, lightly stroking her chin. There was something about this message that filled her with a sense of urgency, and from the looks of things Smokescreen felt similarly. And something else about it too was off – but it wasn't something she could put her digit on. But if some friend of Smoke's was in trouble...shouldn't they at least investigate? See if someone really did need help? She wasn't one to turn her back on someone who needed an assist. Friend of Smokescreen's was a friend of hers. Simple as that.

With a firm, determined nod of her head she flew over to the ship's controls. She typed away on the holographic control panel quickly. In response the vessel began to bank around and angle away from the strange red giant star before heading off back into the void. Then she brought up a communication line to the Spacebridge Hub back on Cybertron.

"Spacebridge Control, this is Captain Zodiac requesting transport back to Cybertronian space. Mission parameters met and required data gathered. Over," she said crisply.

There was a soft crackle from the communication relay due to the star's electromagnetic inference, but the reply came through with decent clarity as they drew farther away, [Roger that, Captain. Sending transport. Maintain your heading!] a gruff male voice replied.

Zodiac kept the research vessel headed in a straight line away from the red giant star. Ahead of it a large green swirling vortex silently roared open to meet it. She forced the ship onward into the vortex, easily slipping the small vessel right into its center with room to spare. And just like that the portal snapped shut and the CERF Tieyeian Bolt disappeared like a mechanical phantasm. Far behind it the red giant burned calmly in the black void of deep space.

Crystal City wasn't actually made of crystal. It was actually named in a kind of dual meaning. Literally it was named for the iconic Crystal Gardens in the center of the city. Metaphorically it paid tribute to the main inhabitants – scientists, inventors, researchers, and even a sprinkling of philosophers. There was a reason it was nicknamed as "City of Savants" by outsiders. One of these selfsame engineers was in the middle of basic maintenance on his arm-mounted wind cannons in a complex of buildings dedicated to aerospace engineering. Behind him on a platform was the engine of a Cybertronian freighter ship, newly repaired and functioning again. This inventive mech was very dark purple with bright lightning yellow detailing and optics. He had a distinctly aquatic body scheme and stood at around twenty feet in height. There was a special removable visor clamped down over his optics to magnify and clarify his vision and on the table he was sitting at were a slew of instruments. A hand went up to flip down a higher focus visor lens.

As far as he knew he was the only mech in this particular building right now, but he didn't mind that. It meant fewer distractions. But as the breems ticked by he became aware of the unnerving silence becoming more and more pronounced. It was as if the building itself had fallen offline. He could hear no noise from outside his work bay or even from the building itself. Silence, complete and engulfing. Curiosity got the better of him at last. He laid aside his tools and got up from his work bench to investigate. Assuming there might be trouble he powered up his twin wind cannons, keeping them idling. If anyone attempted to ambush him he would send them flying. He poked his helm outside the doors of his work bay and glanced first down the corridor to his right. There was nothing to arouse suspicion, but it didn't lessen his confusion any. Then he glanced down the corridor to his left and saw something move just as it vanished around a corner. Whatever it was it moved in total silence and with an almost fluid nature. It didn't walk like a normal being – it flowed, wafted. Like a liquid shadow or a plasma sample.

Curiosity took over completely. He transformed into his vehicle mode and pursued it down hall after hall. No matter how fast he tore down the corridors he could never catch it. It was at the corners when he entered into a hallway and then it would vanish again, leaving him to struggle to keep up with it.

Whatever it was it definitely wasn't a 'Bot. He was certain of that.

A single dainty tri-shade green femme strolled down one of the halls that made up the Iacon Hall of Healing. Her entire design was beautiful and slender, graceful. Every movement she made was a subtle dance step. She passed by numerous rooms on her way down the corridor, stopping by one that was occupied. The door opened, let her helm peek in to give the occupant a gently comforting smile, one hand curling around the door's frame.

"You doing okay, Hotfoot?"

The burly Harian in the room thumped his massive un-damaged trod and nodded.

"Let me know if you need anything," she said. "I'll be back soon to run another diagnostic."

She left the Harian. Continuing her round, she pulled out a datapad from subspace to review the notes on the Harian. The anti-virus had already been injected to counter the rust-hound's virus, but the physical damage would take some time to correct. Harian armor was among the weakest of all Predacons, and rust hounds had some nasty dental plates and claws.

"Note to self," she murmured. "Convince Predaking that firewall updates are needed for older models..."

Then a deep, rumbling voice spoke from behind and made her yip in surprise, "Charity I assume?"

She wheeled around with a squeak of surprise. And then she stood staring wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and seemingly frozen in place at what she saw. But she wasn't afraid. She felt no fear – only awe and reverence. It took every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to kneel. For standing there in the hallway like it was a perfectly ordinary, every-solar-cycle happening was the legendary Optimus Prime. His expression was stern in a way but there was a faint smile on his faceplates that put her at ease. She finally gave in to the urge to politely bow to him. Someone of his reputation deserved some respect.

"Um..." her voice came out as a squeak. She tried again, "I-Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

He considered her for a moment as though deeply debating what to say to her. His head tilted ever so slightly to one side. The smile grew by a fraction.

"Yes. I believe there is something you can assist me with, Charity," he finally said. His voice was just how Knockout and Smokescreen had described: warm, gentle, well-learned, and infinitely polite, "If you are willing, of course."

He held out a hand and as the femme medic watched a data pad formed out of nothing. The Prime then handed it to her.

In a daze the femme examined the data pad. There was nothing on it except for a set of coordinates that led to the Iacon Spacebridge Hub. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. She'd seen some peculiar things at this clinic but this might be the most peculiar by far: a deceased Prime appearing from nowhere and handing her a datapad formed from thin air with ambiguous data on it.

Charity's slender brows furrowed. "Sir, why –?" she began.

Her helm lifted to meet his blue gaze but the Prime was nowhere to be found. The logical part of her processor said this might have been some strange hallucination (such things were known to happen under stress) but the datapad in her hands was definitely real. Her senses could not deny that. And for that matter, why in the name of the Maker would she hallucinate someone she had never met?

Her hand went to her audial, "Sir?"

[Darling? What is it?]

"Ah, something's come up. A request from someone...not from here."

[I love that you're making a name for yourself, little hummingbird, but this is out of nowhere. Who asked for you? Where are they from?]

She thought fast, "A friend from Harmonex."

Lying to him felt wrong, but telling him the truth she felt that would only confuse matters further and eat up precious time. Optimus, while not obviously in a rush, had seemed severe and somewhat worried. The suave voice on the other end sounded ready to argue over who she knew from Harmonex but she cut the link right afterwards. Out of in-grained instinct she grabbed her kit from the shelf beside her. With that the femme transformed and dashed out of the clinic towards the Iacon Spacebridge Hub. She didn't know why she was headed there but if a Prime was giving the order she would not disobey – not this Prime.

Author's Note: This is my first attempt into RiD 2015 territory in terms of stories! Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S: Frostbite will be showing up next chapter. I try to keep around 5,000 words per chapter. Ciao!