Disclaimer:
Hasbro owns the beast wars and any G1 references that I've made, I own everything else.
'Touch' and 'Dare' are performed by Stan Bush for the Transformers movie, soundtrack by Scotti Brothers.
N.R.G belongs to 'Instruments of Destruction' also for the Transformers album.
All these can be downloaded at www.thetransformers.net
A special thanks goes to my good friend Tim Eagles; we spent many a lunch hour discussing the Masterians, and large parts of their history would not nave been possible without him.
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It'd been almost a year and a half real-time since we'd left Cybertron; 262980 cycles, 15778800 nano-cycles, almost 12 billion astro-seconds in old money.
We'd mapped out roughly .001% of the known galaxy, and had visited over 80 systems, completing nearly 22.6% of our mission.
It looked as if the "negotiable" part of our projected mission time was going to be enforced.
How did those fools back home ever contemplate we'd get all this done in only 4 years???
The visions had become more refined in that time; they were all still mostly morbid, but there were more survivors now. They still mostly only ever struck when I was off-ship, although several more sedate ones had appeared to me while I was on board. For a time, many of them had been depicted in a specific part of the galaxy, and the captain had deployed vanguards to that sector once we were in range; they'd found various temporal anomalies, and their findings were sufficient to alter heading and only radio-chart the regions.
All doubt to my sanity had been removed, and I was regularly asked by the captain if the next region we were to investigate felt suspect to me. At my request she'd kept it our secret, and even Banshee was convinced by now that maybe there was something to them.
Our crew still numbered 10,000, although many of the diplomats and science crew had been deployed on various worlds to quell civil unrest, increase diplomatic relations, and study various planets. Their number had been replaced by a vast range of other species, many of whom had "swapped" their positions with members of the crew. Depending on the times needed by our crew, many of them would be picked up on the return leg of the journey. Those who required less time were to be retrieved by either patrolling vanguards, or by long-range transports.
Many parts of the interior of the ship had been fitted out to make the newcomers more comfortable; the bar, which had always had a tasteless steel- grained appearance, now sported a hide of a lesser-spotted frog; it's 12- meter length completely spanning the room. Its colour pattern appeared to change colour depending on the moods of those in the bar at the time. Many people wondered at just how big the "greater" spotted frogs were.
Right now the walls appeared in a psycadelic Mandelbrot fractal pattern, which reflected the generally relaxed moods of those at the bar.
As usual, the four of us were together in our favourite booth, which overlooked the door. Mirage was curled up fast asleep in my lap.
"So, almighty sacred one, what does the future hold for us poor weary travellers?"
"Shut up Banshee."
I was about to answer him with a smart-mouth comment, when one of the newcomers walked through the door.
Masterians bore more than a striking resemblance to Earth cats. They stood upright at about 2 meters tall and bore surprising skill in melee combat, where they preferred to use either their naturally retracting claws, or their much larger retractable claws, which were implanted soon after birth.
"Hey guys."
"Oh, hi Lynx."
They were a fascinating race, and appeared to possess some sort of "seer" qualities; they had a wide range of abilities, basically whatever they put their minds to. Assuming of course that they had the strength and the stamina to pull it off. It was explained to me but I didn't quite grasp the concept, but apparently Lynx and his five cousins were from a bloodline known as 'masters' who possessed a deeper control over their abilities. Their Government had recently undergone a few changes, which removed the semi-monarchical system in place of a more democratic form. Lynx was still an heir to the bloodline, but it was felt that he wasn't currently needed in the revision process, and so he volunteered to learn more about Cybertron.
Rift-wing looked up from her drink. "So, tell us more about Masteria."
"Could you be more specific? Which parts do you want to know more about?"
"You mentioned the Dark-lords, tell us more about them."
"Well, originally, the Dark-lords were just a private school for learning more about their abilities; people who showed some skill were often sent there but at some stage, they went deep into the desert to hone their skills. When they returned, they had changed their perceptions and insisted that those who weren't trained stopped using their powers. We were at war with them for nearly two centuries before finally beating them. They have lived peacefully with us for many thousands of years since, but recently they again rose up against us. We beat them again, and they've fled Masteria."
Rift-wing nodded, and was about to say more, when the captain entered the room.
"Ah, there you are Lynx, I was just about to show some of the Avians the engine rooms, you want to come?"
"Yeah sure."
We all nodded at him as he walked out the door.
"So, any idea where we're going next?"
I was about to answer when Brigand got up and stretched.
"I don't know about you guys, but I haven't been flying for quite a while, anyone else coming?"
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The Journeyman was currently positioned in a large nebula; this one wasn't nearly as "pretty" as Rift-wing had put it, compared to the Prime nebula, and it didn't have the total relaxing atmosphere of the latter, but it was still a chance to have some fun.
"Get back here!'
I laughed as I flashed past Rift-wing, she accelerated to catch me up, but I had the head start.
I narrowly ducked between two large asteroids, apparently the remanents of the tail of some massive comet that had passed through here at sometime; the resultant wisp of nebula which had been dragged out into a long ribbon had earned this place the name "Comet nebula"
Very original.
"Hey, slow down, you know that our sensors don't work too good in amongst this interference. I'd hate to see you get splattered on the face of one of these things."
Whilst I enjoyed playing with Rift-wing, she wasn't nearly as fun as Banshee; Banshee wouldn't back down from anything, and we could tell that we scared the Inferno out of each other when we raced.
"Spoil sport, I just want to have some fun once in a while."
She blew past me, rolled on her side, and narrowly scraped through an impact hole in one of the asteroids.
"Heh heh heh, sucker."
Cursing at being deceived, I lit up my engines, and followed her through.
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The crash had thrown be about a bit; as I opened my eyes I could see that I'd been flung out a large hole in the side of the ship. The atmosphere was heavy with energon discharge, and the planet appeared to be orbited by two moons, roughly of the same size. I glanced over at the ship; its name was partially buried. The rest was covered in a layer of sand, which had turned to glass from the heat of re-entry.
Axalo…
What the hell?
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We were just stepping out of the airlock, when one of the crew ran up to us; he motioned to the device on his right forearm.
"The Captain requests your presence."
"Thanks."
Krshyyyk turned to go. No one could effectively pronounce the name of his race, and even those who got it seemingly spot on were laughed at for trying; it was seemingly a joke to them to hear others try. As a result, we'd given them all devices which resembled the external chronos that many species wore. Inbuilt into them were a tiny voice modulator, which allowed them the ability to at least have a two-way conversation with the rest of the crew.
He appeared to be some sort of reptile, although the scientific tests actually classified them as mammal. They looked like a picture of an earth dinosaur that I'd seen once; they had a stiff, rod-like tail, and a large sharp killer-claw on their hind legs, but unlike the Earth dinosaurs their clawed hands were surprisingly agile, and easily handled equipment designed for Cybertronians, as well as many other more dextrous races.
We both transformed; my fighter wings thinned out, and moved to the tops of my shoulders to stand straight up. The fighter nose swing down to become part of my chest; the cockpit went from being a transparent gold colour to being a solid chrome before flattening out. When I was in robot mode it was almost impossible to tell that it even was a cockpit; aside from the long thin wings atop my shoulders, it was difficult to even tell that my alternate mode was a jet.
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"You wanted to see us?"
"Actually, I only wanted to see Nightwing, but since you're here Rift-wing, you might was continue the tour of the ship."
She nodded, before leading a group of five or so Avians away; many of the females aboard the ship went all mushy at the sight of their colourful plumage, but I didn't see what the fuss was about; it wasn't that I hated "fleshys" like so many before me had. In fact, I quite liked many of them, but the Avians seemed far too fragile to me. For a space-faring race it was almost odd; even the 'fleshling' humans had a certain resourcefulness about them when it came to fighting.
My thoughts were interrupted by the captain's next comment.
"I'll get right to the point; for the last mega-cycle, we've been picking up a strange signal from deep in the nebula. It took us a while to decode it, but it's definitely decaying. We estimate that their transmitter must be running out of power; we estimate only about a day before it stops transmitting completely. What are your thoughts on this?"
"Why ask me? Do you suspect there could possibly be something wrong in that area?"
"Not to be paranoid, but quite frankly there seems to be something suspect about the signal; it appears almost Cybertronian, but a signal of that sort hasn't been used since the beginning of the third Great War."
"So in other words, the signal is almost…"
"It's been transmitting since at least before the time that the Ark was lost from Cybertron."
I involuntarily shivered; it was at least 4 million years old, my vision of being stuck in the faulty stasis pod flashed into my mind.
"Hmm, I agree. There is something a bit fishy about all this; it really doesn't feel right to me, but if someone's in trouble than we at least need to investigate."
The captain nodded gravely. It was a difficult position; on one hand, we had to consider the well being of the crew. In particular, those who were on board as diplomatic envoys; it wouldn't sit too well with their planets if they were all killed due the rashness of those who's care they were entrusted to, but on the other hand we had to consider the possibility that there may be survivors out there who desperately need our help.
"Helmsman, alter course for the following coordinates."
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The pictures that the advance scouts brought back weren't encouraging. No one had ever seen anything like it; there were thousands upon thousands of ships, all derelict husks, completely gutted from the inside out. A few ships were identified as belonging to some of the species that we'd made contact with, and there even a few which bore a slight resemblance to ancient Cybertronian freighters; if they weren't from home, then wherever they'd come from had been visited by us at some stage long enough to influence their own development.
The ships were arranged in an almost sperical array; our sensor sweeps showed that the closer they got to the centre, the older the ships were.
My head was literally screaming to get out of there, but the signal would be extinguished in less than four cycles.
Lynx walked up behind me and pointed to a floating piece of debris.
"That's the Evrantéé. It was the prototype of our new long-range hyper-jump technology. The Dark-lords stole it from us when they fled the planet. At least, it was once."
"Do you think that they were still aboard?"
"Not all of them, we know from intelligence reports that they've formed several enclaves on some of the planets that they held during the war. They might have even scuttled the ship and left it drift. The Dark-lords aren't stupid, not by far."
Several others also craned their necks and fingers forward to point out things that they recognised.
The captain waited until most of the crowd had settled down before beginning.
"Ok, we'll need a rescue team, Nightwing, I need you to go with them." that was strange; usually she quietly told me to go with them, I wonder what's on her mind? "Lynx, I want you to go with them, all of you will suit up in heavy E-suits; there's no telling what's out there, and we can't afford to take any chances. If they are indeed Cybertronian, then the last thing I need is for members of my crew to contract something previously un- encountered."
Well, at least that explained why she was so edgy; she did a great job of concealing it. But somehow I doubted that a virus was what fate had in store for us…
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The E-suits were designed to conform to any body shape, and thus were semi- transforming to do so. As a result, even Krshyyyk's suit fitted him easily, or at least as easily as a power-assisted bomb-proof/vacuum-proof/corrosion- proof/everything-proof suit weighing over three tons could fit anyone easily.
"Hey Rift-wing."
"Yeah what?"
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"What?"
"It's an old Earth tradition; if you tell half a riddle, then you have to come back to finish it."
She smiled awkwardly at the sentiment; she wasn't a fool either, she knew that something was up.
"Just come back to me."
Even though the rescue craft was designed to accommodate E-suits, it was still very awkward; the suits tried to make it more comfortable, but short of blowing cold air into your face, there wasn't a lot that they could do.
"What the heck is that?"
I looked over to where the ensign was peering out the view-port; there was something appearing out of the mists of the nebula, giving the eerie effect of it materialising out of thin air err, vacuum.
"Open hailing frequencies." I paused as I heard the crackle of the transmitter scanning all channels, "This is Nightwing of the exploration ship Journeyman. We received your distress beacon, how can we assist?"
The holo-projector in the middle of the console activated, showing a 3-D scene from what could only be called the 'bridge'
The voice appeared to come from all around; a great booming voice that echoed around the ship.
"ALLOW US IT INTORDUCE OURSELVES; WE ARE THE ONE. WE ARE GLAD THAT YOU DECIDED TO RESPOND TO OUR BEACON; IT SHOWS COMPASSION IN YOUR SPECIES. HOWEVER, IT WILL ALSO BE YOUR DOWNFALL."
"May I be so bold as to request to know where you got the distress codes from a Cybertronian vessel from? To our knowledge, no vessel has ever been this far out."
"YOU ARE FROM THE HOMEWORLD? THEN YOU AT LEAST DESERVE AN EXPLANATION BEFORE YOU ARE ASSIMILATED."
The holo seemed to flicker rapidly, drawing our attention to it; soon it appeared that we were actually 'in' the holo, the booming voice became seemingly quieter.
"Many eons ago, our forefathers fled Cybertron sometime during the third Great war."
We appeared to be standing back on Cybertron, in the distance could be seen a sleek silver ship just leaving it's docking clamps.
"We searched for at least 2 generations, before we finally found another planet like Cybertron; it was an asteroid, but one made of metal." the scene changed again.
"Then, the Chaos-bringer appeared."
The next scene was one of utter destruction; fires were burning everywhere; the one total dominating element of view was the large yellow maw of the only one to ever bear the title of Chaos-bringer.
Unicron.
"We had been warned by a survivor from another world of his approach so we were ready; we managed to evacuate just 46% of the total population."
The next scene showed a convoy of perhaps 100 ships.
"However, it appears that our escape was observed; the Chaos-bringers harbingers of death. The Order of chaos, relentlessly hunted us down. Our ships were much faster than theirs, but it meant running the engines at emergency power full-time. Many of the ships couldn't handle it and fell behind."
The line of ships could be seen in front of a star-studded background; the stars were slightly elongated. Suddenly, one of the ships shuddered, and fell out of formation; a swarm of black ships, previously masked by the blackness of space appeared, and instantly lanced the poor ship with many purple beam weapons. Another ship simply shuddered itself apart, causing a debris field for the others to fly through; at least 3 were hit by larger chunks. One exploded, and the other two were attacked viciously by the black fighters.
"Eventually, we sought refuge amongst the nebula; the ships of the Order attempted to scan for us, but the nebula blocked their sensor sweeps. We managed to catch one of their craft which followed us in and couldn't transmit for help. We found the inhabitants to resemble giant green algae; we interrogated the sole surviving member, and found that the Chaos-bringer was after the one thing that could possibly damage it; the éstll device."
The picture showed the symbol of Autobot unity and justice.
The Matrix of leadership.
"Their ship was the first to be assimilated into the One."
"The Order tried many times to find us, but over time every ship that went in never came out; they figured that something must have been in here and that there was no way that it wouldn't have gotten us too."
"Over time, our numbers grew less and less; it appeared that the captured organisms carried an anti-body which was infectious to us. As more and more of us succumbed, the weak gave way to the strong; three distinct groups became apparent; those who were caught were cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining ships alive."
"Soon there were just three ships left. We managed to finally ambush one of the others. Then were two. Then One."
The scene changed to show a huge ship; a horrible twisted mass of parts. It hovered next to pieces of discarded hull plating, rotating slowly in the coldness of space.
"Soon however, even the One began to succumb to the ravages of time. Fortunately, a colony ship from an unknown race appeared close to the nebula; we hailed it."
The scene changed; an egg-shaped ship which dwarfed even the One was shown hovering close by.
"We ambushed it out of the depths, and destroyed their engines before they even got a chance to realise we were there. They were actually a pitiful race; only a few meters tall, they begged us to let them go; they were the sole survivors of a planet that had been destroyed by the radiation sweep of a nearby pulsar."
"Whether it was their constant pleading, or that by some twist of fate; we shared the same beginnings, it is unknown. However, we sympathised with them. But, if they were released, than the Order would learn of our whereabouts. We did the only thing possible; we uploaded their minds into the ships computer, and jettisoned the lifeless bodies."
"This turn of events solved a dilemma that had been plaguing us for many centuries. There were only a handful of the crew left; the others had succumbed to the ravages of time, and so there wasn't enough of them left to continue. Many of the crew had already permanently connected themselves to the ships computer in an attempt for better interface. It was only a simple matter to assimilate their minds into the One. Their bodies were recycled into components."
The scene again changed, showing the ball of ships growing over time, the One being constantly upgraded and repaired. The final scene was one of the Journeyman. approaching. The holo faded back to the tiny cylinder resting on the dashboard.
"AND NOW, THE FINAL CHAPTER IS STILL BEING WRITTEN; YOUR DEATHS WILL MEAN LIFE FOR US. DEATH AFTER LIFE. LIFE AFTER DEATH. THE CYCLE MUST GO ON."
"BUT, SINCE YOU ARE CYBERTRONIAN, WE WILL GIVE A SPORTING CHANCE; YOU MAY RETURN TO YOUR SHIP WITH OUR WARNING. YOU HAVE 10 CYCLES TO RETURN TO YOUR SHIP, AND EXPLAIN TO YOUR CREW THEIR FATE."
"It doesn't have to be that way; a lot has taken place over the millennia; the Chaos-bringer was destroyed nearly 400 years ago. His minions have been routed, and the wars on Cybertron are over. You could return with us if you so desired."
"NO, THAT ISN'T ACCEPTABLE. POWER CORRUPTS. IF YOU HAVE INDEED DESTROYED THE CHAOS-BRINGER, THEN YOU ARE MORE OF A THREAT TO THE GALAXY THAN HE EVER WAS."
"You're wrong; the Matrix can only be used for good, the Cybertronians have matured much in the millennia since you departed, it is an age of peace and prosperity."
"PERHAPS. PERHAPS FOR NOW. BUT EVEN THE PUREST CAN BE TAINTED. EVEN THE ÉSTLL DEVICE MAY BE TAINTED, GIVEN TIME. I ADVISE YOU LEAVE NOW, YOU HAVE 6 CYCLES REMAINING."
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The captain gravely listened to our turn of events before proceeding.
"Helmsman, can we possibly outrun them?"
"Negative; their engines are far larger than ours. Besides, we've detected a magnetic anomaly just off the bow; it appears to be the focal point of a grav-well. We can still move about freely, but not fast enough to outrun the grav-well."
The captain swivelled in her chair, contemplating battle tactics, "All crews to your battlestations."
Klaxons sounded, red lighting on the walls rotated, in all it was very dramatic. Pity the situation was so serious.
Those who could fly were outside, along with any off-world pilots who were good enough to be granted a gunboat. The rest of the crew were manning the guns.
It was a spectacular scene; the gargantuan gun shields which Banshee and I had raced between slid back, revealing heavy cannons large enough to fit at least three fighters abreast down the barrel without fear of colliding. Torpedo ports slid open along the sides; all traces of the peaceful exploration ship were gone. In its place was a juggernaut, completely covered in munitions and blast shields to protect the weaker parts.
We were arranged in a loose formation between the ship and the direction that the One was last seen.
My wing consisted of our usual four, plus at their insistence, Lynx and Krshyyyk's gunboats.
Between the ship and us were a pair of R-class corvettes; they had been specially stowed onboard the Journeyman. to provide more firepower which could be brought to bear independently of the mothership.
If I was impressed with the transformation of the Journeyman, than I was completely blown away by the sight of the One launching it's fighters.
They simply appeared to blossom out from every direction of the ship; it was like an explosion. Too many to get a close scan on, they just appeared as a fog to the sensors.
I zoomed in on one of them; it was perhaps only one to two meters long, and very simple. From what I could tell. It had to be just a remote drone.
They partially resembled a creature that Brigand had eaten called a 'horseshoe crab', but it had two tiny gun muzzles sticking out of the front of it's shell, looking like fangs. I could see a fair bit of 'Order' fighter in it from what I'd seen from the holo-simulation, but there were also lots of other components.
After their starburst appearance, they all grouped together like a massive wave, before swarming towards us. No, not swarming, more like waving, the same way that a shoal of fish travels.
I opened a channel with the rest of the fleet, "All right listen up; there's no way that we can effectively hope to hit fighters of that size; they're just too manoeuvrable. I recommend that all fighters set weapons to maximum dispersion; they can't be too heavily shielded, and you'll have more of a chance of hitting multiple targets. I want all fighters to channel all auxiliary power to shields; we can't manoeuvre with them, so don't try. Channel 92% of manoeuvre power into shields as well."
As if just to prove my point, at that instant, one of the main guns fired into the swarm.
Whoever said that you can't hear anything in space has obviously never been in a space battle; you don't need to 'hear'. You can 'feel' the energy discharge from the weapons.
The shot lanced straight towards the centre of the mass; they easily evaded it. Moving as one, they opened up a hole in the middle of their swarm, and the massive energy blast passed harmlessly between them.
"Lets rumble!"
A pair of speakers popped up from the dash inside my cockpit.
I always fight better with some combat music.
'Dare' had always been one of my favourite pieces; there was something about it that always peaked my concentration.
Sometimes when your hopes have all been shattered
There's nowhere left to turn.
You wonder how you keep going.
I fired my ion cannons, set on maximum dispersion. Because of the dispersion they weren't as focused as they normally would have been. As a result, the targets didn't disintegrate, they just floated lifelessly.
Think of all the things that really mattered
And the changes you made.
"Heads up guys, this is gonna be difficult; make sure your targets are live before you waste your shots."
The fire in your heart keeps burning.
The corvettes moved into position and began a rapid chain-fire from their 6 quad-turrets.
A double-ellipse with a random variation, considered by many to be one of the best firing patterns available.
I weaved in between the shots, my squad remaining in formation.
I was hit once. Twice. Thrice. Shielding now at 99.75%
I heard Krshyyyk's synthesised voice over the comm., "Their weapons aren't even scratching the shields!"
"Be careful; enough of 'em will."
You can fly, if you try leaving the past behind
Heaven only knows what you might find.
My sensors registered a steadily growing cloud of 'greys', but there were still an immense cloud of still-active fighters.
Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!
You hold the future in your hand.
Dare! Dare to keep all your dreams alive!
It's time to make a stand
The One moved closer to the Journeyman. It completely dwarfed the smaller ship, but the Journeyman's guns helped even up the difference.
You can win if you dare.
I opened a channel with rift-wing.
Instruments of destruction, tools of powerplay.
"I thought you only liked Touch."
She laughed, "And Instruments of destruction."
"I was thinking of going on a little strafing run, you interested on joining me?"
"Do you need to ask?"
Next, I keyed in Brigands channel. The music through the comm. nearly deafened me.
"Hey Brigand, turn it down would you?"
The music dropped off sharply.
"What the Inferno is that stuff anyway?"
"The humans call it 'techno', Sphinx gave it to me."
"Sounds like whoever wrote it was in incredible torture."
"I agree; it can't be good for his concentration."
"Shut up Banshee."
"All right the both of you, we're going on a bit of a strafing run, care to join us?"
I didn't need an answer.
I had to smile to myself; here we were fighting for our lives, and we were acting like we always were. I suppose it was the best way to alleviate the tension we all felt.
Everybody's trying to break your spirit, keeping you down.
Seems like it's been forever.
We tore down the right flank of the One; several rotary turrets locked on to us, and started spraying inch-long flechette at us.
"Reset your weapons to point-accuracy, we're not gonna be able to repel firepower of that magnitude for long."
My pulse-cannon blasts just went right through the skin; it wasn't dense enough for them to discharge.
"What's with their armour; it's like paper!"
I retried the strafing run with incinerators; the skin seared, but that was all.
"Nightwing, I read a wing of the fighters has broken off, and is advancing on us."
"Pull out."
It couldn't really be called a 'wing'; it was just a fluid-like arm of the main swarm stretching out towards us.
But there's another voice if you'll just here it
Saying it's the last round.
Looks like it's now or never
I fired all my weapons at it; perhaps a thousand ships destroyed. Not even a noticeable loss.
Out of the darkness you stumbled into the light
Fighting for the things you know are right!
We were in bad shape; a quick scan of our forces showed we were doing poorly; we were all running low on ammo and power, and we'd only reduced the swarm by about 3%.
Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!
The power is there at your command.
Dare! Dare to keep all your dreams alive
It's time to take a stand.
And you can win if you dare!
One of the corvettes was on fire; the atmosphere inside feeding it. Still the fighters swarmed around it, lancing it from every angle. It was still firing from its two remaining turrets; still firing in the dual ellipse, still with the random variation.
I could hear/feel the energy discharge of the main guns opening up; the two capital ships had pulled alongside each other. Another broadside from the Journeyman was met by thousands of tiny pinpricks of light lancing from the One.
Half of the remaining swarm broke off and began firing on the Journeyman; it might take several mega-cycles, but eventually they'd get through the armour.
There was a whooshing sound of the torpedo ports firing; they passed right through the one without detonating.
The corvette finally exploded; I saw a large escape pod narrowly miss the blast.
The song looped back around for the sixth time and reached a crescendo.
"Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!"
That was the last thing I heard, talk about irony.
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Everything seemed to freeze; even the explosion from the corvette.
Everything faded to white; almost so slowly that I didn't perceive it at first. The glare became unbearable.
The blinding white slowly began to fade back to black.
All battle-chatter from the comms ceased; it was deathly quiet for a moment, the only sound being the ringing in my ears from my combat music.
Then I heard it; a sombre synthesised piece of music. It sent shivers down my back.
I recognised the piece immediately; I'd watched that footage over and over.
A melancholy procession; Ultra-Magnus, Kup, Rodimus Prime, Springer, Blurr, and the surviving Autobots. Between them was a large stone coffin, the destination being the Morgue-ship. What was to be the final resting place of Optimus Prime. It was the only time that Arcee had ever worn black; she had completely broken down in Springers arms.
I can't say that I blamed her.
No one knew where they had found the music from, but Jazz and Blaster had played the very piece that I was now listening to. It was fitting that such a great warrior be sent off with so much honour.
"Greetings Nightwing, We've been expecting you." The voice seemed to be inside my head.
So, this is the Pit, but… what happened?
The voice seemed to read my mind, "No, this isn't the Pit."
"Wh-who are you?"
"Ah, always that question first. Lesser species than yourself think that we are gods, but you are far too advanced to believe that."
"What the slags going on here?"
"Perhaps We should explain from the beginning."
"Near the dawn of time, there was a technologically advanced race known as the Therans. They existed in harmony with nature, and used their technologies to make a difference. They were responsible for creating many races, and populating many planets."
"Over time, they reached the absolute peak of their development. But, there were still lots to be done."
"The only choice available required them to forfeit their physical bodies, and become ethereal beings."
"By shedding the last physical traces of our existence, We became as we are now."
There was an expectant pause; I took the first opportunity I had since I'd arrived here to look around.
Surrounding us was an all-encompassing blackness. Not the blackness of space, which is just an absence of light, but a solid, tangible, inky blackness.
No wait; if I looked closer, I could see countless colourful strands; so thin that they were almost invisible.
I still wasn't completely convinced that this wasn't the Pit.
"Not wanting to seem rude or anything, but if this isn't the Pit, then why am I here?"
A blinding-white orb appeared in front of me, I knew that this must be one of the creatures.
The shape resolved itself into an instantly recognisable figure.
Optimus Prime.
Well, that confirmed my suspicions.
"We appear in front of you as a familiar figure; we have found that it is more relaxing to our guests than if we appeared in our own form."
"Mostly, we examine from afar; any species that reaches the stage of development where they are ready to explore the galaxy is observed; such curiosity is the first step on the road to perfection. If the species shows extreme potential, we may even help to spur it on."
"However, your species is a special case; your race has been space-faring for millennia, whereas most are only just starting out."
"We felt it prudent to examine your species in much closer depths; you were to be chosen as our 'subject'. "
An idea began to form in my head.
"Your spark was chosen from before it was created for a special purpose; we avoided making too many changes, but we decided to alter it very slightly to make it easier for us to observe."
"My combat skills?"
"Ah yes, that was an unforseen side-effect."
"Not wanting to tamper too much, we made the few minor changes, and then left your development to you. We were very pleased with your progress, and were startled to see how easily you adapted to changes. It is indicative of very good traits in your species."
"So, you mean to say that my whole life has been your experiment? I'm just something you created to experiment on?"
"No, not at all; your spark was simply randomly chosen, and tagged to make it easier to observe and, if the situation ever arose, to possibly feed you subconscious information. The rest was just observation on our part. Other than that, you are no different than any other member of your species. Shall I continue?"
I nodded.
"We knew in advance that your species would make an exploration craft within your lifetime, but again we were startled at how easily the opportunity arose for you to be a part of it, which is what we had intended from the very outset."
"However, whilst your development showed immense potential for your species, We observed that your race is very war-like. As a result, we subjected you to many hypothetical scenarios, in order to see how you would react."
"The visions?"
"Yes."
"But how could visions of slaughter possibly reflect our war-like traits."
Primes face seemed to slump.
"How much of them do you remember?"
"Usually from the time that the deaths start."
"Nothing before?"
I shook my head.
"Do you remember the first? The one with the black spheres?"
I nodded.
"How much do you remember of it?"
"I was sitting at a terminal, it was broken, it came back on just as the ship fired."
"Allow us to jog your memory."
I appeared to be back on the bridge.
"Lieutenant; I'm picking up something on the scanners."
"Display it."
The all-too familiar terminal at which I was working showed a small vessel, about the size of a multi-seat escape pod.
The comm. crackled to life; the visual scene showed the inhabitants; five robotic creatures.
"Please. Help us. We are dying."
I examined their faces closely, before pulling back in shock and revulsion.
They were infected with what appeared to be small mite-like parasites, which were busily tearing away at their metal components.
"Sir, should we bring them in?"
It was my call; the Captain was elsewhere on the ship.
"Negative. Whatever they have, it would be better if it stayed on their ship; there's no telling what damage it could do to us."
"Very well sir."
The faces on the comm. pleaded with us, begged us to assist.
I finally switched the comm. off; the screen switched back to showing their tiny vessel.
Suddenly, their vessel flickered, the hologram of the escape pod vanished. In its place was the massive ship from my dream.
My terminal spluttered, and flickered off.
I tried restarting it; even hitting it.
"Slagging, festering damn heap of junk; by the Pit!"
The scene flickered, and was gone.
"We set up the hypothetical situations, but they were your judgement calls."
"Oh."
I kinda felt a bit guilty; I'd matured a lot on this voyage, and I wouldn't have made the same judgement call today.
Several others were explained in a similar fashion; they were all either my bad calls, or accidents on my behalf.
"But, you did something completely unexpected; you began to perceive them as visions of the future. In doing so, you began to manipulate them to your own advantage. You began to see real situations from the future, no longer hypothetical ones. In doing so, were able to avoid many possible hazards; you saved the ship, albeit unwittingly, on numerous occasions. It really is quite astounding."
"But, I've matured much since then; those were the decisions I would have made before I undertook the journey."
"We realise that, and that is why in many of your more recent 'visions', you've managed to lessen, and in some cases completely remove the threats. But, the point still remains that without the experiences of the last year and a half; you would still most likely be making those bad calls."
I finished the thought for them, "So, if someone from Cybertron with no experience were put in similar situations, then they would most likely be responsible for many deaths."
"Exactly; your species has immense potential, but it must develop to the stage where you don't make such errors, even without experience, before we consider intervening and revealing ourselves to you.
It is true that you should learn from your mistakes, but it is far better not to make them in the first instance."
I thought this over; it all made sense now, but there were still some questions I had to have answered.
"The vision where I was being tortured…"
"Ah yes, that one is a conundrum; for that one instant, you actually exceeded even our power, and caught a glimpse of yourself in another reality. Even We cannot willingly leave this reality without causing untold damage."
"The last vision I had, I was awake; I saw a ship crashed on an unknown planet."
"We thought long and hard before finally deciding to let you see that one."
"But what was it?"
"There was the possibility that your 'visions' may have frightened you sufficiently to prevent you from joining this mission. Consider that our contingency. If you had indeed declined, than you would have felt guilty when the Journeyman got into trouble. Had this happened, than the ship in your vision would have been dispatched to render assistance, and you would have leapt at the chance to save your friends. Don't worry too much over that ship; fate has other things in store for it."
I had one last question.
"Now what?"
"That is for you to decide." he gestured to the coloured strands before continuing, "These strands represent the individual timelines of each life that ever existed. It is of course only one way of looking at it, but it is the easiest to manipulate. If we ever need to."
I looked closer at one of the closer segments; it showed numerous tiny strands, all binding together into one. There were currently two of these larger strands; one much longer than the other. Towards the end they had both frayed; many of the once-again singular strands abruptly ending.
"This represents the current battle; the longer strand is the lives of all those who have ever interacted with the entity known as the One, the other is your ship. I don't think that I need to explain the ends."
"They are extinguished life forces?"
Prime's image nodded.
"We already know what will happen; it has already been decided, but it is up to you to decide on the course of action; it is possible that you can change the outcome."
I again looked closely at the lines; I began to get feelings off them if I concentrated on specific ones.
After a while, I could begin to pick up specific time-lines; mine, Brigands, Banshees, Lynx', even Mirage.
Don't try to concentrate on seeing what each individual strand holds; that is impossible. Instead, focus on how they interact.
I tried looking ahead down the lines; there appeared to be a fog or something obscuring my view of the future.
"It all depends on the decisions you make as to the outcome of the future."
I focused on a line that I had identified as Rift-wings; it and mine were always close; towards the end, just before the fog, the line seemed to turn transparent; I noticed many others doing the same.
"There are many possible solutions to achieve the desired outcome, but many have their costs; the transparent ones have uncertain futures."
"Is there a way to save them?"
"Yes, but it is for you to decide."
I began to formulate ideas; I watched and noticed now many of the lines solidified, and how some disappeared with each idea.
Finally, they were all solid.
Except one.
"Are you sure that is the course you wish to take?"
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
The entity nodded, "Optimus Prime would have been glad to have known you."
"I know that it's immaterial now, but could you possibly reverse whatever you did to my spark before I leave?"
"It can be done."
"Could you possibly leave me with the fighting skills?"
"That can also be done; you may indeed need them."
The scene again became white, when it had cleared I was back where I'd left.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The shockwave from the explosion of the corvette finally hit me.
I knew what I had to do.
I turned and flew toward the One, I saw lynx being harassed by perhaps a hundred of the swarming fighters; his rear shield glowed only very weakly when their shots hit it.
"Hang on Lynx, I'm coming."
I fired one of my energy bombs into the heart of the swarm before remotely detonating it.
"Thanks, you saved my life."
I again turned back to were the two behemoths were busy blasting each other; the One was full of large holes, but without their being anything dense enough for the shells to explode against, they weren't doing that much damage. Certainly nothing critical.
The Journeyman was looking the worse for wear; great chinks in the armour plating were beginning to appear.
I saw my opening; a large blast-hole that went right through the One.
I flew inside it, narrowly missing the shots from both its cannons, and from the swarm that had locked on to me.
I transformed back to robot mode and took a look around; the inside of the ship was basically hollow; they'd probably recycled whatever decking there was into more components.
No wonder the shots from the Journeyman weren't doing anything; there was nothing inside for them to damage.
Except me.
With that thought I hurried forwards to where I'd assumed the 'bridge' to be.
I wasn't disappointed, although it looked nothing like the bridge that had been shown in the holo image.
All I could see was an immense sphere; I guessed it was the central computer; the Heart, Brain, and Soul of the ship.
It was surrounded by an absolutely massive energy shield; I doubted if even the Journeyman could pierce it
I walked down a catwalk towards what appeared to be an access panel; it was also heavily shielded.
I ran my hand along the face of the shield; I doubted if I'd be able to penetrate it.
I pulled out my energon sword; I felt the familiar weight-effect as I activated it, before plunging it deep into the shield.
The blade simply deflected to one side.
I pulled out my plasma carbine, set it to maximum and fired at the access panel.
The shield glowed an electric-blue for a few seconds, before dissipating the shot across its surface.
This wasn't going to be easy.
After wracking my brain for several cycles, I finally thought of one more solution.
I reached into one of my subspace pockets, and withdrew a leather package; I carefully unwrapped the gift I'd been given an eternity ago.
For the second time ever, I activated the sonic knife; its blade grew white hot.
I rammed it into the access panel. It spluttered, and with a lot of effort, finally penetrated the shield. Right into the control panel.
The power cell in the handle blew, it could easily be repaired.
The shield over the access door flickered once, and then disappeared.
I entered slowly, not quite knowing what to expect.
Suspended in the centre of the room, was a massive glowing sphere.
"Warning; Stasis lock imminent; energon field will cause paralysis in less than two cycles."
Plenty of time.
I slowly approached the sphere; it was pitted and appeared like a fleshling brain, except it wasn't organic.
I activated my energon sword; it flickered once in the high-energy field, before staying on.
I shifted my grip so that it was pointing down; I gripped it with both hands.
"No regrets."
I plunged the shimmering blade down into the sphere.
Everything went white. There was no music playing this time.
Rift-wing…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
Epilogue.
"Nightwing."
He voice was distant; very faint.
"Nightwing." The voice called again, but more urgent.
"Go away, I'm comfortable here."
"Nightwing!"
"Alright, alright! I'm coming."
I opened my eyes.
Everyone was standing around me.
The captain spoke up, "It's ok, you're back with us now."
"What happened?"
Rift-wing spoke up; she'd been crying, although without tears. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.
"You scared us to death."
Banshee stepped forward, "I didn't know you had it in you."
I repeated my question.
The captain spoke up.
"We didn't know what was happening; we were in pretty bad shape. Suddenly, the One simply started blowing up from the inside. We had no idea what was happening."
"We realised later that you were missing; Lynx said that he'd seen you heading toward the ship."
" We found your body drifting amongst the wreckage, we guessed what you'd done. It's a wonder that your body wasn't destroyed in the explosion, but your spark was extinguished. We prepared your body for a heroes farewell."
"However, Lynx came to me and told me that he wanted to try something."
Lynx spoke up for the first time; he looked incredibly weary, and speaking was a real effort.
"I owed you enough to try; I really didn't know if it would work or not."
"Lynx tried an ancient ritual of his people; the effort almost killed him too, but he managed to return your spark from its resting place in the matrix. You've been in a coma for nearly three months now."
I turned weakly to Lynx, "You gonna be ok?"
"Yeah sure, it just took a lot out of me. Now we're even."
A thought occurred to me, "How many others survived the battle?"
"Surprisingly, there were no casualties, thanks to you. It seems that the fighters left us alone as soon as our guys were knocked offline. Whether they thought they were dead, or just no longer a threat, I guess we'll never know. The ship suffered 84% damage to the external hull, we'll put in for repairs when we arrive back at Masteria. Luckily, only the external hull was damaged. Nothing vital."
We small talked for a while, not much had happened in the three months that I'd been out of it.
Someone opened the door to leave; Mirage ran into the room, jumped on the bed, and began trying to lick the organics of my face.
I scratched his ears; as happy to see him as he was to see me.
"And that's the reason why we kept him out of here until you were better." the captain laughed.
One by one, my visitors left. Only Mirage and Rift-wing stayed.
There was a long silence while neither of us could speak.
"I was so scared, I."
I held up my hand.
"I know."
"Nightwing, I never got to tell you this, but…"
"I know. I feel the same way."
"When Lynx said that there was a chance that he could get you back, you can't believe the hope that filled me. I don't know what would have happened if he'd failed."
She started crying again, I held her for a long while.
She sat up, still sniffling.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Why 'is' a raven like a writing desk?"
I smiled.
It was a lush green world. It reminded me of old Earth.
Rift-wing and I were sitting on a bench outside a huge wooden house that overlooked a large tranquil lake. Mirage was with us, birds sang. We both just sat there, enjoying each other's company, I could hear birds singing in the trees, grasshoppers chirping in the grass. Everything was relaxed.
I smiled, not wanting this vision to end any time soon.
Hasbro owns the beast wars and any G1 references that I've made, I own everything else.
'Touch' and 'Dare' are performed by Stan Bush for the Transformers movie, soundtrack by Scotti Brothers.
N.R.G belongs to 'Instruments of Destruction' also for the Transformers album.
All these can be downloaded at www.thetransformers.net
A special thanks goes to my good friend Tim Eagles; we spent many a lunch hour discussing the Masterians, and large parts of their history would not nave been possible without him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
It'd been almost a year and a half real-time since we'd left Cybertron; 262980 cycles, 15778800 nano-cycles, almost 12 billion astro-seconds in old money.
We'd mapped out roughly .001% of the known galaxy, and had visited over 80 systems, completing nearly 22.6% of our mission.
It looked as if the "negotiable" part of our projected mission time was going to be enforced.
How did those fools back home ever contemplate we'd get all this done in only 4 years???
The visions had become more refined in that time; they were all still mostly morbid, but there were more survivors now. They still mostly only ever struck when I was off-ship, although several more sedate ones had appeared to me while I was on board. For a time, many of them had been depicted in a specific part of the galaxy, and the captain had deployed vanguards to that sector once we were in range; they'd found various temporal anomalies, and their findings were sufficient to alter heading and only radio-chart the regions.
All doubt to my sanity had been removed, and I was regularly asked by the captain if the next region we were to investigate felt suspect to me. At my request she'd kept it our secret, and even Banshee was convinced by now that maybe there was something to them.
Our crew still numbered 10,000, although many of the diplomats and science crew had been deployed on various worlds to quell civil unrest, increase diplomatic relations, and study various planets. Their number had been replaced by a vast range of other species, many of whom had "swapped" their positions with members of the crew. Depending on the times needed by our crew, many of them would be picked up on the return leg of the journey. Those who required less time were to be retrieved by either patrolling vanguards, or by long-range transports.
Many parts of the interior of the ship had been fitted out to make the newcomers more comfortable; the bar, which had always had a tasteless steel- grained appearance, now sported a hide of a lesser-spotted frog; it's 12- meter length completely spanning the room. Its colour pattern appeared to change colour depending on the moods of those in the bar at the time. Many people wondered at just how big the "greater" spotted frogs were.
Right now the walls appeared in a psycadelic Mandelbrot fractal pattern, which reflected the generally relaxed moods of those at the bar.
As usual, the four of us were together in our favourite booth, which overlooked the door. Mirage was curled up fast asleep in my lap.
"So, almighty sacred one, what does the future hold for us poor weary travellers?"
"Shut up Banshee."
I was about to answer him with a smart-mouth comment, when one of the newcomers walked through the door.
Masterians bore more than a striking resemblance to Earth cats. They stood upright at about 2 meters tall and bore surprising skill in melee combat, where they preferred to use either their naturally retracting claws, or their much larger retractable claws, which were implanted soon after birth.
"Hey guys."
"Oh, hi Lynx."
They were a fascinating race, and appeared to possess some sort of "seer" qualities; they had a wide range of abilities, basically whatever they put their minds to. Assuming of course that they had the strength and the stamina to pull it off. It was explained to me but I didn't quite grasp the concept, but apparently Lynx and his five cousins were from a bloodline known as 'masters' who possessed a deeper control over their abilities. Their Government had recently undergone a few changes, which removed the semi-monarchical system in place of a more democratic form. Lynx was still an heir to the bloodline, but it was felt that he wasn't currently needed in the revision process, and so he volunteered to learn more about Cybertron.
Rift-wing looked up from her drink. "So, tell us more about Masteria."
"Could you be more specific? Which parts do you want to know more about?"
"You mentioned the Dark-lords, tell us more about them."
"Well, originally, the Dark-lords were just a private school for learning more about their abilities; people who showed some skill were often sent there but at some stage, they went deep into the desert to hone their skills. When they returned, they had changed their perceptions and insisted that those who weren't trained stopped using their powers. We were at war with them for nearly two centuries before finally beating them. They have lived peacefully with us for many thousands of years since, but recently they again rose up against us. We beat them again, and they've fled Masteria."
Rift-wing nodded, and was about to say more, when the captain entered the room.
"Ah, there you are Lynx, I was just about to show some of the Avians the engine rooms, you want to come?"
"Yeah sure."
We all nodded at him as he walked out the door.
"So, any idea where we're going next?"
I was about to answer when Brigand got up and stretched.
"I don't know about you guys, but I haven't been flying for quite a while, anyone else coming?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The Journeyman was currently positioned in a large nebula; this one wasn't nearly as "pretty" as Rift-wing had put it, compared to the Prime nebula, and it didn't have the total relaxing atmosphere of the latter, but it was still a chance to have some fun.
"Get back here!'
I laughed as I flashed past Rift-wing, she accelerated to catch me up, but I had the head start.
I narrowly ducked between two large asteroids, apparently the remanents of the tail of some massive comet that had passed through here at sometime; the resultant wisp of nebula which had been dragged out into a long ribbon had earned this place the name "Comet nebula"
Very original.
"Hey, slow down, you know that our sensors don't work too good in amongst this interference. I'd hate to see you get splattered on the face of one of these things."
Whilst I enjoyed playing with Rift-wing, she wasn't nearly as fun as Banshee; Banshee wouldn't back down from anything, and we could tell that we scared the Inferno out of each other when we raced.
"Spoil sport, I just want to have some fun once in a while."
She blew past me, rolled on her side, and narrowly scraped through an impact hole in one of the asteroids.
"Heh heh heh, sucker."
Cursing at being deceived, I lit up my engines, and followed her through.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The crash had thrown be about a bit; as I opened my eyes I could see that I'd been flung out a large hole in the side of the ship. The atmosphere was heavy with energon discharge, and the planet appeared to be orbited by two moons, roughly of the same size. I glanced over at the ship; its name was partially buried. The rest was covered in a layer of sand, which had turned to glass from the heat of re-entry.
Axalo…
What the hell?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
We were just stepping out of the airlock, when one of the crew ran up to us; he motioned to the device on his right forearm.
"The Captain requests your presence."
"Thanks."
Krshyyyk turned to go. No one could effectively pronounce the name of his race, and even those who got it seemingly spot on were laughed at for trying; it was seemingly a joke to them to hear others try. As a result, we'd given them all devices which resembled the external chronos that many species wore. Inbuilt into them were a tiny voice modulator, which allowed them the ability to at least have a two-way conversation with the rest of the crew.
He appeared to be some sort of reptile, although the scientific tests actually classified them as mammal. They looked like a picture of an earth dinosaur that I'd seen once; they had a stiff, rod-like tail, and a large sharp killer-claw on their hind legs, but unlike the Earth dinosaurs their clawed hands were surprisingly agile, and easily handled equipment designed for Cybertronians, as well as many other more dextrous races.
We both transformed; my fighter wings thinned out, and moved to the tops of my shoulders to stand straight up. The fighter nose swing down to become part of my chest; the cockpit went from being a transparent gold colour to being a solid chrome before flattening out. When I was in robot mode it was almost impossible to tell that it even was a cockpit; aside from the long thin wings atop my shoulders, it was difficult to even tell that my alternate mode was a jet.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
"You wanted to see us?"
"Actually, I only wanted to see Nightwing, but since you're here Rift-wing, you might was continue the tour of the ship."
She nodded, before leading a group of five or so Avians away; many of the females aboard the ship went all mushy at the sight of their colourful plumage, but I didn't see what the fuss was about; it wasn't that I hated "fleshys" like so many before me had. In fact, I quite liked many of them, but the Avians seemed far too fragile to me. For a space-faring race it was almost odd; even the 'fleshling' humans had a certain resourcefulness about them when it came to fighting.
My thoughts were interrupted by the captain's next comment.
"I'll get right to the point; for the last mega-cycle, we've been picking up a strange signal from deep in the nebula. It took us a while to decode it, but it's definitely decaying. We estimate that their transmitter must be running out of power; we estimate only about a day before it stops transmitting completely. What are your thoughts on this?"
"Why ask me? Do you suspect there could possibly be something wrong in that area?"
"Not to be paranoid, but quite frankly there seems to be something suspect about the signal; it appears almost Cybertronian, but a signal of that sort hasn't been used since the beginning of the third Great War."
"So in other words, the signal is almost…"
"It's been transmitting since at least before the time that the Ark was lost from Cybertron."
I involuntarily shivered; it was at least 4 million years old, my vision of being stuck in the faulty stasis pod flashed into my mind.
"Hmm, I agree. There is something a bit fishy about all this; it really doesn't feel right to me, but if someone's in trouble than we at least need to investigate."
The captain nodded gravely. It was a difficult position; on one hand, we had to consider the well being of the crew. In particular, those who were on board as diplomatic envoys; it wouldn't sit too well with their planets if they were all killed due the rashness of those who's care they were entrusted to, but on the other hand we had to consider the possibility that there may be survivors out there who desperately need our help.
"Helmsman, alter course for the following coordinates."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The pictures that the advance scouts brought back weren't encouraging. No one had ever seen anything like it; there were thousands upon thousands of ships, all derelict husks, completely gutted from the inside out. A few ships were identified as belonging to some of the species that we'd made contact with, and there even a few which bore a slight resemblance to ancient Cybertronian freighters; if they weren't from home, then wherever they'd come from had been visited by us at some stage long enough to influence their own development.
The ships were arranged in an almost sperical array; our sensor sweeps showed that the closer they got to the centre, the older the ships were.
My head was literally screaming to get out of there, but the signal would be extinguished in less than four cycles.
Lynx walked up behind me and pointed to a floating piece of debris.
"That's the Evrantéé. It was the prototype of our new long-range hyper-jump technology. The Dark-lords stole it from us when they fled the planet. At least, it was once."
"Do you think that they were still aboard?"
"Not all of them, we know from intelligence reports that they've formed several enclaves on some of the planets that they held during the war. They might have even scuttled the ship and left it drift. The Dark-lords aren't stupid, not by far."
Several others also craned their necks and fingers forward to point out things that they recognised.
The captain waited until most of the crowd had settled down before beginning.
"Ok, we'll need a rescue team, Nightwing, I need you to go with them." that was strange; usually she quietly told me to go with them, I wonder what's on her mind? "Lynx, I want you to go with them, all of you will suit up in heavy E-suits; there's no telling what's out there, and we can't afford to take any chances. If they are indeed Cybertronian, then the last thing I need is for members of my crew to contract something previously un- encountered."
Well, at least that explained why she was so edgy; she did a great job of concealing it. But somehow I doubted that a virus was what fate had in store for us…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The E-suits were designed to conform to any body shape, and thus were semi- transforming to do so. As a result, even Krshyyyk's suit fitted him easily, or at least as easily as a power-assisted bomb-proof/vacuum-proof/corrosion- proof/everything-proof suit weighing over three tons could fit anyone easily.
"Hey Rift-wing."
"Yeah what?"
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"What?"
"It's an old Earth tradition; if you tell half a riddle, then you have to come back to finish it."
She smiled awkwardly at the sentiment; she wasn't a fool either, she knew that something was up.
"Just come back to me."
Even though the rescue craft was designed to accommodate E-suits, it was still very awkward; the suits tried to make it more comfortable, but short of blowing cold air into your face, there wasn't a lot that they could do.
"What the heck is that?"
I looked over to where the ensign was peering out the view-port; there was something appearing out of the mists of the nebula, giving the eerie effect of it materialising out of thin air err, vacuum.
"Open hailing frequencies." I paused as I heard the crackle of the transmitter scanning all channels, "This is Nightwing of the exploration ship Journeyman. We received your distress beacon, how can we assist?"
The holo-projector in the middle of the console activated, showing a 3-D scene from what could only be called the 'bridge'
The voice appeared to come from all around; a great booming voice that echoed around the ship.
"ALLOW US IT INTORDUCE OURSELVES; WE ARE THE ONE. WE ARE GLAD THAT YOU DECIDED TO RESPOND TO OUR BEACON; IT SHOWS COMPASSION IN YOUR SPECIES. HOWEVER, IT WILL ALSO BE YOUR DOWNFALL."
"May I be so bold as to request to know where you got the distress codes from a Cybertronian vessel from? To our knowledge, no vessel has ever been this far out."
"YOU ARE FROM THE HOMEWORLD? THEN YOU AT LEAST DESERVE AN EXPLANATION BEFORE YOU ARE ASSIMILATED."
The holo seemed to flicker rapidly, drawing our attention to it; soon it appeared that we were actually 'in' the holo, the booming voice became seemingly quieter.
"Many eons ago, our forefathers fled Cybertron sometime during the third Great war."
We appeared to be standing back on Cybertron, in the distance could be seen a sleek silver ship just leaving it's docking clamps.
"We searched for at least 2 generations, before we finally found another planet like Cybertron; it was an asteroid, but one made of metal." the scene changed again.
"Then, the Chaos-bringer appeared."
The next scene was one of utter destruction; fires were burning everywhere; the one total dominating element of view was the large yellow maw of the only one to ever bear the title of Chaos-bringer.
Unicron.
"We had been warned by a survivor from another world of his approach so we were ready; we managed to evacuate just 46% of the total population."
The next scene showed a convoy of perhaps 100 ships.
"However, it appears that our escape was observed; the Chaos-bringers harbingers of death. The Order of chaos, relentlessly hunted us down. Our ships were much faster than theirs, but it meant running the engines at emergency power full-time. Many of the ships couldn't handle it and fell behind."
The line of ships could be seen in front of a star-studded background; the stars were slightly elongated. Suddenly, one of the ships shuddered, and fell out of formation; a swarm of black ships, previously masked by the blackness of space appeared, and instantly lanced the poor ship with many purple beam weapons. Another ship simply shuddered itself apart, causing a debris field for the others to fly through; at least 3 were hit by larger chunks. One exploded, and the other two were attacked viciously by the black fighters.
"Eventually, we sought refuge amongst the nebula; the ships of the Order attempted to scan for us, but the nebula blocked their sensor sweeps. We managed to catch one of their craft which followed us in and couldn't transmit for help. We found the inhabitants to resemble giant green algae; we interrogated the sole surviving member, and found that the Chaos-bringer was after the one thing that could possibly damage it; the éstll device."
The picture showed the symbol of Autobot unity and justice.
The Matrix of leadership.
"Their ship was the first to be assimilated into the One."
"The Order tried many times to find us, but over time every ship that went in never came out; they figured that something must have been in here and that there was no way that it wouldn't have gotten us too."
"Over time, our numbers grew less and less; it appeared that the captured organisms carried an anti-body which was infectious to us. As more and more of us succumbed, the weak gave way to the strong; three distinct groups became apparent; those who were caught were cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining ships alive."
"Soon there were just three ships left. We managed to finally ambush one of the others. Then were two. Then One."
The scene changed to show a huge ship; a horrible twisted mass of parts. It hovered next to pieces of discarded hull plating, rotating slowly in the coldness of space.
"Soon however, even the One began to succumb to the ravages of time. Fortunately, a colony ship from an unknown race appeared close to the nebula; we hailed it."
The scene changed; an egg-shaped ship which dwarfed even the One was shown hovering close by.
"We ambushed it out of the depths, and destroyed their engines before they even got a chance to realise we were there. They were actually a pitiful race; only a few meters tall, they begged us to let them go; they were the sole survivors of a planet that had been destroyed by the radiation sweep of a nearby pulsar."
"Whether it was their constant pleading, or that by some twist of fate; we shared the same beginnings, it is unknown. However, we sympathised with them. But, if they were released, than the Order would learn of our whereabouts. We did the only thing possible; we uploaded their minds into the ships computer, and jettisoned the lifeless bodies."
"This turn of events solved a dilemma that had been plaguing us for many centuries. There were only a handful of the crew left; the others had succumbed to the ravages of time, and so there wasn't enough of them left to continue. Many of the crew had already permanently connected themselves to the ships computer in an attempt for better interface. It was only a simple matter to assimilate their minds into the One. Their bodies were recycled into components."
The scene again changed, showing the ball of ships growing over time, the One being constantly upgraded and repaired. The final scene was one of the Journeyman. approaching. The holo faded back to the tiny cylinder resting on the dashboard.
"AND NOW, THE FINAL CHAPTER IS STILL BEING WRITTEN; YOUR DEATHS WILL MEAN LIFE FOR US. DEATH AFTER LIFE. LIFE AFTER DEATH. THE CYCLE MUST GO ON."
"BUT, SINCE YOU ARE CYBERTRONIAN, WE WILL GIVE A SPORTING CHANCE; YOU MAY RETURN TO YOUR SHIP WITH OUR WARNING. YOU HAVE 10 CYCLES TO RETURN TO YOUR SHIP, AND EXPLAIN TO YOUR CREW THEIR FATE."
"It doesn't have to be that way; a lot has taken place over the millennia; the Chaos-bringer was destroyed nearly 400 years ago. His minions have been routed, and the wars on Cybertron are over. You could return with us if you so desired."
"NO, THAT ISN'T ACCEPTABLE. POWER CORRUPTS. IF YOU HAVE INDEED DESTROYED THE CHAOS-BRINGER, THEN YOU ARE MORE OF A THREAT TO THE GALAXY THAN HE EVER WAS."
"You're wrong; the Matrix can only be used for good, the Cybertronians have matured much in the millennia since you departed, it is an age of peace and prosperity."
"PERHAPS. PERHAPS FOR NOW. BUT EVEN THE PUREST CAN BE TAINTED. EVEN THE ÉSTLL DEVICE MAY BE TAINTED, GIVEN TIME. I ADVISE YOU LEAVE NOW, YOU HAVE 6 CYCLES REMAINING."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The captain gravely listened to our turn of events before proceeding.
"Helmsman, can we possibly outrun them?"
"Negative; their engines are far larger than ours. Besides, we've detected a magnetic anomaly just off the bow; it appears to be the focal point of a grav-well. We can still move about freely, but not fast enough to outrun the grav-well."
The captain swivelled in her chair, contemplating battle tactics, "All crews to your battlestations."
Klaxons sounded, red lighting on the walls rotated, in all it was very dramatic. Pity the situation was so serious.
Those who could fly were outside, along with any off-world pilots who were good enough to be granted a gunboat. The rest of the crew were manning the guns.
It was a spectacular scene; the gargantuan gun shields which Banshee and I had raced between slid back, revealing heavy cannons large enough to fit at least three fighters abreast down the barrel without fear of colliding. Torpedo ports slid open along the sides; all traces of the peaceful exploration ship were gone. In its place was a juggernaut, completely covered in munitions and blast shields to protect the weaker parts.
We were arranged in a loose formation between the ship and the direction that the One was last seen.
My wing consisted of our usual four, plus at their insistence, Lynx and Krshyyyk's gunboats.
Between the ship and us were a pair of R-class corvettes; they had been specially stowed onboard the Journeyman. to provide more firepower which could be brought to bear independently of the mothership.
If I was impressed with the transformation of the Journeyman, than I was completely blown away by the sight of the One launching it's fighters.
They simply appeared to blossom out from every direction of the ship; it was like an explosion. Too many to get a close scan on, they just appeared as a fog to the sensors.
I zoomed in on one of them; it was perhaps only one to two meters long, and very simple. From what I could tell. It had to be just a remote drone.
They partially resembled a creature that Brigand had eaten called a 'horseshoe crab', but it had two tiny gun muzzles sticking out of the front of it's shell, looking like fangs. I could see a fair bit of 'Order' fighter in it from what I'd seen from the holo-simulation, but there were also lots of other components.
After their starburst appearance, they all grouped together like a massive wave, before swarming towards us. No, not swarming, more like waving, the same way that a shoal of fish travels.
I opened a channel with the rest of the fleet, "All right listen up; there's no way that we can effectively hope to hit fighters of that size; they're just too manoeuvrable. I recommend that all fighters set weapons to maximum dispersion; they can't be too heavily shielded, and you'll have more of a chance of hitting multiple targets. I want all fighters to channel all auxiliary power to shields; we can't manoeuvre with them, so don't try. Channel 92% of manoeuvre power into shields as well."
As if just to prove my point, at that instant, one of the main guns fired into the swarm.
Whoever said that you can't hear anything in space has obviously never been in a space battle; you don't need to 'hear'. You can 'feel' the energy discharge from the weapons.
The shot lanced straight towards the centre of the mass; they easily evaded it. Moving as one, they opened up a hole in the middle of their swarm, and the massive energy blast passed harmlessly between them.
"Lets rumble!"
A pair of speakers popped up from the dash inside my cockpit.
I always fight better with some combat music.
'Dare' had always been one of my favourite pieces; there was something about it that always peaked my concentration.
Sometimes when your hopes have all been shattered
There's nowhere left to turn.
You wonder how you keep going.
I fired my ion cannons, set on maximum dispersion. Because of the dispersion they weren't as focused as they normally would have been. As a result, the targets didn't disintegrate, they just floated lifelessly.
Think of all the things that really mattered
And the changes you made.
"Heads up guys, this is gonna be difficult; make sure your targets are live before you waste your shots."
The fire in your heart keeps burning.
The corvettes moved into position and began a rapid chain-fire from their 6 quad-turrets.
A double-ellipse with a random variation, considered by many to be one of the best firing patterns available.
I weaved in between the shots, my squad remaining in formation.
I was hit once. Twice. Thrice. Shielding now at 99.75%
I heard Krshyyyk's synthesised voice over the comm., "Their weapons aren't even scratching the shields!"
"Be careful; enough of 'em will."
You can fly, if you try leaving the past behind
Heaven only knows what you might find.
My sensors registered a steadily growing cloud of 'greys', but there were still an immense cloud of still-active fighters.
Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!
You hold the future in your hand.
Dare! Dare to keep all your dreams alive!
It's time to make a stand
The One moved closer to the Journeyman. It completely dwarfed the smaller ship, but the Journeyman's guns helped even up the difference.
You can win if you dare.
I opened a channel with rift-wing.
Instruments of destruction, tools of powerplay.
"I thought you only liked Touch."
She laughed, "And Instruments of destruction."
"I was thinking of going on a little strafing run, you interested on joining me?"
"Do you need to ask?"
Next, I keyed in Brigands channel. The music through the comm. nearly deafened me.
"Hey Brigand, turn it down would you?"
The music dropped off sharply.
"What the Inferno is that stuff anyway?"
"The humans call it 'techno', Sphinx gave it to me."
"Sounds like whoever wrote it was in incredible torture."
"I agree; it can't be good for his concentration."
"Shut up Banshee."
"All right the both of you, we're going on a bit of a strafing run, care to join us?"
I didn't need an answer.
I had to smile to myself; here we were fighting for our lives, and we were acting like we always were. I suppose it was the best way to alleviate the tension we all felt.
Everybody's trying to break your spirit, keeping you down.
Seems like it's been forever.
We tore down the right flank of the One; several rotary turrets locked on to us, and started spraying inch-long flechette at us.
"Reset your weapons to point-accuracy, we're not gonna be able to repel firepower of that magnitude for long."
My pulse-cannon blasts just went right through the skin; it wasn't dense enough for them to discharge.
"What's with their armour; it's like paper!"
I retried the strafing run with incinerators; the skin seared, but that was all.
"Nightwing, I read a wing of the fighters has broken off, and is advancing on us."
"Pull out."
It couldn't really be called a 'wing'; it was just a fluid-like arm of the main swarm stretching out towards us.
But there's another voice if you'll just here it
Saying it's the last round.
Looks like it's now or never
I fired all my weapons at it; perhaps a thousand ships destroyed. Not even a noticeable loss.
Out of the darkness you stumbled into the light
Fighting for the things you know are right!
We were in bad shape; a quick scan of our forces showed we were doing poorly; we were all running low on ammo and power, and we'd only reduced the swarm by about 3%.
Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!
The power is there at your command.
Dare! Dare to keep all your dreams alive
It's time to take a stand.
And you can win if you dare!
One of the corvettes was on fire; the atmosphere inside feeding it. Still the fighters swarmed around it, lancing it from every angle. It was still firing from its two remaining turrets; still firing in the dual ellipse, still with the random variation.
I could hear/feel the energy discharge of the main guns opening up; the two capital ships had pulled alongside each other. Another broadside from the Journeyman was met by thousands of tiny pinpricks of light lancing from the One.
Half of the remaining swarm broke off and began firing on the Journeyman; it might take several mega-cycles, but eventually they'd get through the armour.
There was a whooshing sound of the torpedo ports firing; they passed right through the one without detonating.
The corvette finally exploded; I saw a large escape pod narrowly miss the blast.
The song looped back around for the sixth time and reached a crescendo.
"Dare! Dare to believe you can survive!"
That was the last thing I heard, talk about irony.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
Everything seemed to freeze; even the explosion from the corvette.
Everything faded to white; almost so slowly that I didn't perceive it at first. The glare became unbearable.
The blinding white slowly began to fade back to black.
All battle-chatter from the comms ceased; it was deathly quiet for a moment, the only sound being the ringing in my ears from my combat music.
Then I heard it; a sombre synthesised piece of music. It sent shivers down my back.
I recognised the piece immediately; I'd watched that footage over and over.
A melancholy procession; Ultra-Magnus, Kup, Rodimus Prime, Springer, Blurr, and the surviving Autobots. Between them was a large stone coffin, the destination being the Morgue-ship. What was to be the final resting place of Optimus Prime. It was the only time that Arcee had ever worn black; she had completely broken down in Springers arms.
I can't say that I blamed her.
No one knew where they had found the music from, but Jazz and Blaster had played the very piece that I was now listening to. It was fitting that such a great warrior be sent off with so much honour.
"Greetings Nightwing, We've been expecting you." The voice seemed to be inside my head.
So, this is the Pit, but… what happened?
The voice seemed to read my mind, "No, this isn't the Pit."
"Wh-who are you?"
"Ah, always that question first. Lesser species than yourself think that we are gods, but you are far too advanced to believe that."
"What the slags going on here?"
"Perhaps We should explain from the beginning."
"Near the dawn of time, there was a technologically advanced race known as the Therans. They existed in harmony with nature, and used their technologies to make a difference. They were responsible for creating many races, and populating many planets."
"Over time, they reached the absolute peak of their development. But, there were still lots to be done."
"The only choice available required them to forfeit their physical bodies, and become ethereal beings."
"By shedding the last physical traces of our existence, We became as we are now."
There was an expectant pause; I took the first opportunity I had since I'd arrived here to look around.
Surrounding us was an all-encompassing blackness. Not the blackness of space, which is just an absence of light, but a solid, tangible, inky blackness.
No wait; if I looked closer, I could see countless colourful strands; so thin that they were almost invisible.
I still wasn't completely convinced that this wasn't the Pit.
"Not wanting to seem rude or anything, but if this isn't the Pit, then why am I here?"
A blinding-white orb appeared in front of me, I knew that this must be one of the creatures.
The shape resolved itself into an instantly recognisable figure.
Optimus Prime.
Well, that confirmed my suspicions.
"We appear in front of you as a familiar figure; we have found that it is more relaxing to our guests than if we appeared in our own form."
"Mostly, we examine from afar; any species that reaches the stage of development where they are ready to explore the galaxy is observed; such curiosity is the first step on the road to perfection. If the species shows extreme potential, we may even help to spur it on."
"However, your species is a special case; your race has been space-faring for millennia, whereas most are only just starting out."
"We felt it prudent to examine your species in much closer depths; you were to be chosen as our 'subject'. "
An idea began to form in my head.
"Your spark was chosen from before it was created for a special purpose; we avoided making too many changes, but we decided to alter it very slightly to make it easier for us to observe."
"My combat skills?"
"Ah yes, that was an unforseen side-effect."
"Not wanting to tamper too much, we made the few minor changes, and then left your development to you. We were very pleased with your progress, and were startled to see how easily you adapted to changes. It is indicative of very good traits in your species."
"So, you mean to say that my whole life has been your experiment? I'm just something you created to experiment on?"
"No, not at all; your spark was simply randomly chosen, and tagged to make it easier to observe and, if the situation ever arose, to possibly feed you subconscious information. The rest was just observation on our part. Other than that, you are no different than any other member of your species. Shall I continue?"
I nodded.
"We knew in advance that your species would make an exploration craft within your lifetime, but again we were startled at how easily the opportunity arose for you to be a part of it, which is what we had intended from the very outset."
"However, whilst your development showed immense potential for your species, We observed that your race is very war-like. As a result, we subjected you to many hypothetical scenarios, in order to see how you would react."
"The visions?"
"Yes."
"But how could visions of slaughter possibly reflect our war-like traits."
Primes face seemed to slump.
"How much of them do you remember?"
"Usually from the time that the deaths start."
"Nothing before?"
I shook my head.
"Do you remember the first? The one with the black spheres?"
I nodded.
"How much do you remember of it?"
"I was sitting at a terminal, it was broken, it came back on just as the ship fired."
"Allow us to jog your memory."
I appeared to be back on the bridge.
"Lieutenant; I'm picking up something on the scanners."
"Display it."
The all-too familiar terminal at which I was working showed a small vessel, about the size of a multi-seat escape pod.
The comm. crackled to life; the visual scene showed the inhabitants; five robotic creatures.
"Please. Help us. We are dying."
I examined their faces closely, before pulling back in shock and revulsion.
They were infected with what appeared to be small mite-like parasites, which were busily tearing away at their metal components.
"Sir, should we bring them in?"
It was my call; the Captain was elsewhere on the ship.
"Negative. Whatever they have, it would be better if it stayed on their ship; there's no telling what damage it could do to us."
"Very well sir."
The faces on the comm. pleaded with us, begged us to assist.
I finally switched the comm. off; the screen switched back to showing their tiny vessel.
Suddenly, their vessel flickered, the hologram of the escape pod vanished. In its place was the massive ship from my dream.
My terminal spluttered, and flickered off.
I tried restarting it; even hitting it.
"Slagging, festering damn heap of junk; by the Pit!"
The scene flickered, and was gone.
"We set up the hypothetical situations, but they were your judgement calls."
"Oh."
I kinda felt a bit guilty; I'd matured a lot on this voyage, and I wouldn't have made the same judgement call today.
Several others were explained in a similar fashion; they were all either my bad calls, or accidents on my behalf.
"But, you did something completely unexpected; you began to perceive them as visions of the future. In doing so, you began to manipulate them to your own advantage. You began to see real situations from the future, no longer hypothetical ones. In doing so, were able to avoid many possible hazards; you saved the ship, albeit unwittingly, on numerous occasions. It really is quite astounding."
"But, I've matured much since then; those were the decisions I would have made before I undertook the journey."
"We realise that, and that is why in many of your more recent 'visions', you've managed to lessen, and in some cases completely remove the threats. But, the point still remains that without the experiences of the last year and a half; you would still most likely be making those bad calls."
I finished the thought for them, "So, if someone from Cybertron with no experience were put in similar situations, then they would most likely be responsible for many deaths."
"Exactly; your species has immense potential, but it must develop to the stage where you don't make such errors, even without experience, before we consider intervening and revealing ourselves to you.
It is true that you should learn from your mistakes, but it is far better not to make them in the first instance."
I thought this over; it all made sense now, but there were still some questions I had to have answered.
"The vision where I was being tortured…"
"Ah yes, that one is a conundrum; for that one instant, you actually exceeded even our power, and caught a glimpse of yourself in another reality. Even We cannot willingly leave this reality without causing untold damage."
"The last vision I had, I was awake; I saw a ship crashed on an unknown planet."
"We thought long and hard before finally deciding to let you see that one."
"But what was it?"
"There was the possibility that your 'visions' may have frightened you sufficiently to prevent you from joining this mission. Consider that our contingency. If you had indeed declined, than you would have felt guilty when the Journeyman got into trouble. Had this happened, than the ship in your vision would have been dispatched to render assistance, and you would have leapt at the chance to save your friends. Don't worry too much over that ship; fate has other things in store for it."
I had one last question.
"Now what?"
"That is for you to decide." he gestured to the coloured strands before continuing, "These strands represent the individual timelines of each life that ever existed. It is of course only one way of looking at it, but it is the easiest to manipulate. If we ever need to."
I looked closer at one of the closer segments; it showed numerous tiny strands, all binding together into one. There were currently two of these larger strands; one much longer than the other. Towards the end they had both frayed; many of the once-again singular strands abruptly ending.
"This represents the current battle; the longer strand is the lives of all those who have ever interacted with the entity known as the One, the other is your ship. I don't think that I need to explain the ends."
"They are extinguished life forces?"
Prime's image nodded.
"We already know what will happen; it has already been decided, but it is up to you to decide on the course of action; it is possible that you can change the outcome."
I again looked closely at the lines; I began to get feelings off them if I concentrated on specific ones.
After a while, I could begin to pick up specific time-lines; mine, Brigands, Banshees, Lynx', even Mirage.
Don't try to concentrate on seeing what each individual strand holds; that is impossible. Instead, focus on how they interact.
I tried looking ahead down the lines; there appeared to be a fog or something obscuring my view of the future.
"It all depends on the decisions you make as to the outcome of the future."
I focused on a line that I had identified as Rift-wings; it and mine were always close; towards the end, just before the fog, the line seemed to turn transparent; I noticed many others doing the same.
"There are many possible solutions to achieve the desired outcome, but many have their costs; the transparent ones have uncertain futures."
"Is there a way to save them?"
"Yes, but it is for you to decide."
I began to formulate ideas; I watched and noticed now many of the lines solidified, and how some disappeared with each idea.
Finally, they were all solid.
Except one.
"Are you sure that is the course you wish to take?"
"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
The entity nodded, "Optimus Prime would have been glad to have known you."
"I know that it's immaterial now, but could you possibly reverse whatever you did to my spark before I leave?"
"It can be done."
"Could you possibly leave me with the fighting skills?"
"That can also be done; you may indeed need them."
The scene again became white, when it had cleared I was back where I'd left.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
The shockwave from the explosion of the corvette finally hit me.
I knew what I had to do.
I turned and flew toward the One, I saw lynx being harassed by perhaps a hundred of the swarming fighters; his rear shield glowed only very weakly when their shots hit it.
"Hang on Lynx, I'm coming."
I fired one of my energy bombs into the heart of the swarm before remotely detonating it.
"Thanks, you saved my life."
I again turned back to were the two behemoths were busy blasting each other; the One was full of large holes, but without their being anything dense enough for the shells to explode against, they weren't doing that much damage. Certainly nothing critical.
The Journeyman was looking the worse for wear; great chinks in the armour plating were beginning to appear.
I saw my opening; a large blast-hole that went right through the One.
I flew inside it, narrowly missing the shots from both its cannons, and from the swarm that had locked on to me.
I transformed back to robot mode and took a look around; the inside of the ship was basically hollow; they'd probably recycled whatever decking there was into more components.
No wonder the shots from the Journeyman weren't doing anything; there was nothing inside for them to damage.
Except me.
With that thought I hurried forwards to where I'd assumed the 'bridge' to be.
I wasn't disappointed, although it looked nothing like the bridge that had been shown in the holo image.
All I could see was an immense sphere; I guessed it was the central computer; the Heart, Brain, and Soul of the ship.
It was surrounded by an absolutely massive energy shield; I doubted if even the Journeyman could pierce it
I walked down a catwalk towards what appeared to be an access panel; it was also heavily shielded.
I ran my hand along the face of the shield; I doubted if I'd be able to penetrate it.
I pulled out my energon sword; I felt the familiar weight-effect as I activated it, before plunging it deep into the shield.
The blade simply deflected to one side.
I pulled out my plasma carbine, set it to maximum and fired at the access panel.
The shield glowed an electric-blue for a few seconds, before dissipating the shot across its surface.
This wasn't going to be easy.
After wracking my brain for several cycles, I finally thought of one more solution.
I reached into one of my subspace pockets, and withdrew a leather package; I carefully unwrapped the gift I'd been given an eternity ago.
For the second time ever, I activated the sonic knife; its blade grew white hot.
I rammed it into the access panel. It spluttered, and with a lot of effort, finally penetrated the shield. Right into the control panel.
The power cell in the handle blew, it could easily be repaired.
The shield over the access door flickered once, and then disappeared.
I entered slowly, not quite knowing what to expect.
Suspended in the centre of the room, was a massive glowing sphere.
"Warning; Stasis lock imminent; energon field will cause paralysis in less than two cycles."
Plenty of time.
I slowly approached the sphere; it was pitted and appeared like a fleshling brain, except it wasn't organic.
I activated my energon sword; it flickered once in the high-energy field, before staying on.
I shifted my grip so that it was pointing down; I gripped it with both hands.
"No regrets."
I plunged the shimmering blade down into the sphere.
Everything went white. There was no music playing this time.
Rift-wing…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
Epilogue.
"Nightwing."
He voice was distant; very faint.
"Nightwing." The voice called again, but more urgent.
"Go away, I'm comfortable here."
"Nightwing!"
"Alright, alright! I'm coming."
I opened my eyes.
Everyone was standing around me.
The captain spoke up, "It's ok, you're back with us now."
"What happened?"
Rift-wing spoke up; she'd been crying, although without tears. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.
"You scared us to death."
Banshee stepped forward, "I didn't know you had it in you."
I repeated my question.
The captain spoke up.
"We didn't know what was happening; we were in pretty bad shape. Suddenly, the One simply started blowing up from the inside. We had no idea what was happening."
"We realised later that you were missing; Lynx said that he'd seen you heading toward the ship."
" We found your body drifting amongst the wreckage, we guessed what you'd done. It's a wonder that your body wasn't destroyed in the explosion, but your spark was extinguished. We prepared your body for a heroes farewell."
"However, Lynx came to me and told me that he wanted to try something."
Lynx spoke up for the first time; he looked incredibly weary, and speaking was a real effort.
"I owed you enough to try; I really didn't know if it would work or not."
"Lynx tried an ancient ritual of his people; the effort almost killed him too, but he managed to return your spark from its resting place in the matrix. You've been in a coma for nearly three months now."
I turned weakly to Lynx, "You gonna be ok?"
"Yeah sure, it just took a lot out of me. Now we're even."
A thought occurred to me, "How many others survived the battle?"
"Surprisingly, there were no casualties, thanks to you. It seems that the fighters left us alone as soon as our guys were knocked offline. Whether they thought they were dead, or just no longer a threat, I guess we'll never know. The ship suffered 84% damage to the external hull, we'll put in for repairs when we arrive back at Masteria. Luckily, only the external hull was damaged. Nothing vital."
We small talked for a while, not much had happened in the three months that I'd been out of it.
Someone opened the door to leave; Mirage ran into the room, jumped on the bed, and began trying to lick the organics of my face.
I scratched his ears; as happy to see him as he was to see me.
"And that's the reason why we kept him out of here until you were better." the captain laughed.
One by one, my visitors left. Only Mirage and Rift-wing stayed.
There was a long silence while neither of us could speak.
"I was so scared, I."
I held up my hand.
"I know."
"Nightwing, I never got to tell you this, but…"
"I know. I feel the same way."
"When Lynx said that there was a chance that he could get you back, you can't believe the hope that filled me. I don't know what would have happened if he'd failed."
She started crying again, I held her for a long while.
She sat up, still sniffling.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Why 'is' a raven like a writing desk?"
I smiled.
It was a lush green world. It reminded me of old Earth.
Rift-wing and I were sitting on a bench outside a huge wooden house that overlooked a large tranquil lake. Mirage was with us, birds sang. We both just sat there, enjoying each other's company, I could hear birds singing in the trees, grasshoppers chirping in the grass. Everything was relaxed.
I smiled, not wanting this vision to end any time soon.