“So, that’s what it’s come to huh?” Pyra Magna thought to herself, her massive vehicular form of a fire engine resting itself amongst piles of junk, somewhere in Colorado. She, like the rest of the Autobots, had scattered to the ends of the earth once word got out the government had turned on them.
She found it fitting really, resting her chassis in a pile of where the humans left their dead automobiles, considering she herself had surrounded herself with dead crewmates. She could list the crew of the Van De Graaff off the top of her head, each and every one of their faces was embedded in her neural processor. And because of her own failure to pilot the ship to safety, half of them had probably died on impact.
“Some leader I turned out to be, huh?” she asked herself bitterly.
She took a look around, sighing to herself. Admittedly, this probably wasn’t the best hiding place as a fire truck stood out more than say… a regular car but hopefully nobody would take notice of her. Hopefully. It was actually even a question of the Decepticons even knowing she was still alive, or if she was an active member to begin with.
A horrific thought came to her, and it was as if someone had gripped her spark like a vice. Her crew… her crew. What was the likelihood of them not being able to survive an interrogation, presuming they even got one? She knew Combaticon tactics, and more often than not they had ways of finding the truth. Such as that monstrous device known as the cortical psychic patch. Developed by Shockwave -who else could it have been, really?- during the latter days of the war. It was a procedure that allowed one Transformer to view into the mind and thoughts of another, and unsurprisingly it had quickly garnered interest amongst the Decepticons, especially when they realized it could leave someone with permanent neurological damage if used… incorrectly.
Because of this little facet, it had been banned for usage by Autobots, although those like Ratchet and Perceptor had written up texts on the subject just in case a situation ever arose -Primus forbid- that one was needed. Sadly, Pyra Magna had been on the end of one of the things, and it felt like every part of your body was violated, all at once. Mind you, this was when she was conscious, and she supposed if you were in a form of stasis lock it might have been marginally better. Marginally. Needless to say, she didn’t really like others poking about in her head and picking her brain.
Nor did she like the idea of some ‘Con getting the smart idea of using this on any of her crew. There was a reason when fleeing from the human government, she had rejected the idea of using the crash site of the Van De Graaff as a new base. Aside from holding far too many memories, it would have been the first place the Decepticons would have looked if they got ahold of any one of the Autobots.
“However…” Pyra thought to herself. “There’s still that one little issue.”
Deep down, she knew there was a reason she had chosen to hide out in Colorado, really. Especially this place, and it wasn’t to remind herself of her failures by hiding amongst the dead. No, it was far more than that. No, it was just in case she needed to make a trip to the crash site, she could easily make it there before anyone noticed. At least, that was the theory anyways.
Hearing the roar of a jet’s engines somewhere above her, one that looked frighteningly like a human fighter jet Pyra then decided to put that theory to the test. Engine roaring to life, Pyra drove out of the junkyard and hit the highways and took to the long curving, sweeping mountain roads that led up to the Van De Graaff’s crash site. All the while, she heard that same jet engine. Maybe some would chalk it up to coincidence, but Pyra Magna never believed in that. Upon reaching the site, she wasted no time and pulled out a rifle blasting the side of the ship open, and then blasting a hole down to the lower levels.
“Pyra Magna, identification code Omega-Omega-Delta.” the fembot stated, parts of the ruined ship beginning to shift and change all around her to reveal a hidden storage compartment. In front of her, illuminated by light was this massive golden hammer. Taking ahold of the artifact, she smiled sadly to herself. This was the real reason the Van De Graaff had fled Cybertron. Not just to escape from the war, but to find a special hiding place for this artifact.
Pyra suddenly heard the distinctive whirring of an energon rifle’s barrel, and whirled around before her optics widened.
“You?” she whispered out in shock upon seeing Shatter’s lurking form stepping out of the shadows.
“Yes. Me. Surprised? Missed me, Commander?” Shatter… No, Dust Up remarked with a small smile. “Wondered if you were still alive after all these cycles. And look at what I found. You, alive and well with the Forge.”
Parvus Oppidum, that’s where she’d found Dust Up, or whatever she chose to call herself nowadays. Old mining town, just barely scratching the surface of the Rust Sea. Not the Rust Sea of Cybertron, but the one of Caminus. For eons, they’d been cut off from Cybertron proper and on their resource-poor world, the Camiens developed a culture of conservation. They’d often taken to swords and other melee weapons instead of using consumption-heavy ranged weaponry. However, eventually, a scouting team lead by the cybertronian Red Alert had discovered them and had quickly alerted Cybertron to their plight. Pyra had taken Dust Up along with several other Camiens under her wing so to speak, teaching them Cybertronian and had led them into battle against the Decepticons when the war broke out. Sadly, one by one they fell until only Pyra, Smallfoot and Dust Up had remained. And now it seemed, instead of falling in battle like both Pyra and Smallfoot had thought, Dust Up had changed sides.
With a loud roar, Pyra blindsided her former teammate and slammed her to the floor using the sheer force of the massive warhammer she now held before changing to vehicle form and bolting. Wiping energon away from her faceplates, Shatter growled and managed to toss a small tracking device onto Pyra’s fender. Next, she radioed command.
“Yeah, get me some Eradicons on standby…” she growled out before shifting to jet form and taking to the skies…
On the other side of the continent, work continued on the form of Stinger, with little by little the frame becoming operational. Soon, a new body was ready to be scanned for the Decepticon-turned mech suit.
“So, you think this will really work?” Xiraia asked. “I mean, I’m a mecha fan as much as the next gal -You know what they say, chicks do dig giant robots- but this one? He had his freakin’ head blown off for crying out loud!”
Feral Steel chuckled, and simply tapped a key on the woman’s computer displaying the website for the Italian styling gurus Pagani before tapping another key.
“Hey, Trixie is studying the basics of these suits Perceptor gave us, and both me and Juniper figure given enough time we can rework them,” the stage magician commented with a small shrug. “Instead of transforming into big guns -which Trixie still doesn’t see the point of given Autobots already have built-in weapons- we can probably change their functions to something more… useful for our purposes. And it helps, we have pictures of Stinger’s original head!” she chirped, gesturing to the computer which now displayed just that. Changing into her armor, she then pressed a button on her gauntlet which made a visor flip down and scan the image on the computer.
“Trixie hopes she just doesn’t wind up scanning the laptop and changing into THAT instead!” the high-schooler thought to herself nervously. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when her armor changed to a deep red with parts reconfiguring themselves for their new purposes. Her point proven, Juniper followed Trixie’s lead.
However, the next thing they heard was the sound of a soft knocking at the door. Xiraia pressed a button on the keyboard and brought up images from the security feed. Men dressed in suits, with their leader being dressed in this black coat -He would have been what Xiraia described as a silver fox had he not just extruded menace- were right outside.
“...And there goes the neighborhood…” Xiraia muttered in distaste. “You two, get out of here. I’ll cover you! Out the back, go now! Take Feral with you!”
“But what about you?” Juniper asked. “If… If they see Stinger, and they will they’ll have some questions for you.”
“Eh, if it comes to that I’ll just exercise my second amendment rights. Or plead the fifth. Whatever comes first,” Xiraia replied, reaching for a gun she’d hidden under her desk. Small Glock pistol, which was quickly hidden in her pockets. “Now listen, I like you two and family always goes ahead of the government. Especially government guys who’d probably throw kids into some gulag somewhere. Now, what are you standing around for, go!”
Juniper and Trixie both hugged the woman, much to her surprise before running for it with Feral Steel following after them.
“Good luck girls…” Xiraia thought wiping a small tear from her eye before mustering up her courage and walking towards the front door.
Opening it with a creaking sound, she put on her best ‘good hard working American citizen’ smile. “...Oh, so you’re not the girl scouts?” Xiraia asked. “Shame, I ordered a few cookies and I do love my Thin Mints.”
“Girl Scouts?” Savoy asked as he and his men filed into the building with the man gesturing for them to fan out. “Love the girl scouts, hard working and they do make good cookies I admit. A prime example of future women of America, they are. Guessing you weren’t one.”
“What makes you say that?” Xiraia remarked. “I actually was, got quite a few merit badges.”
“We know who you are Xiraia, your little conspiracy ramblings on your own personal private radio show? Think we don’t care about them?” Savoy asked. “Okay, that’s mostly true. But you’ve gone silent as of late. My daughter missed you. Call me coming here just a little request to put your show back on the air,”
“...And your vaguely menacing dudes crawling all over the place? That part of your little request? Because let me tell you, I don’t take kindly to suits.” Xiraia remarked, one of her hands going for her pistol.
“You watched one way too many X-Files episodes I think,” Savoy replied. “We’re harmless.”
“Funny, there’s a quote. Might have heard of it. It goes: “The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help.” Sound familiar? It should, given who they came from. Reagan was from your generation, same as mine. Took his words to heart, I did.” Xiraia continued.
As a shout came from one of Savoy’s men, the man himself smirked. “Wise woman. I’ll give you that much. Okay, I lied. I’m not here to ask you to put your show back on the air. See, we did a bit of digging and found out who you’re related to. Juniper Montage, 19 years of age and recently gone missing. Also did a bit of digging, and found her father -Dusk Montage- staying here. That’s funny, considering last we checked he was in Switzerland on behalf of the President,” Savoy smirked darkly. “You're trying to defend your family. That's admirable. I'm trying to defend the nation from alien war.” he remarked.
“War? What war?” Xiraia asked playing dumb even if she was sweating bullets. “Look, I believe in aliens, but if they were here I’d think I’d have reported on it.”
Savoy’s hand shot out, and smacked Xiraia across the face sending her sprawling to the floor with her gun flying out of her pocket and hitting the floor with a clatter.
“Threatening a federal officer? That’s a big offense…” Savoy remarked as he walked up towards the body of Stinger. “Hiding dangerous technology, that’s also another offense. My my, you’re racking up crimes every second. Doubt you’ll be seeing the light of day till you’re ready for the old folks home.”
He picked up the pistol and aimed it at her head. Outside, having heard the gunshot Trixie and Juniper picked up the pace. No time to mourn, not yet at least.
Darting between boats and cars, even clambering over a few with Feral Steel still at their side, gunshots riddled their feet. Men carrying rifles, they had taken aim at the two young women. It seemed leaving witnesses was out of the question. Trixie’s heart had dropped in betrayal as she saw Lennox amongst them.
Doubling back into the warehouse, Trixie looked at Juniper.
“...Are… Are you crazy?” she panted out. “You’re letting them box us in! We’ll be killed, just like your cousin!” Trixie screamed.
“Am I really?” Juniper whispered before she pressed a button on a nearby film projector and the air around her shimmered revealing Stinger’s body lying in front of them. “Me and cuz, we planned ahead for a situation. Hid Stinger in another part of the warehouse, using lightbender technology. The Stinger those creeps saw, just an illusion. A trick of the eye. Xiraia knew this too.”
“Then… Then what was the point of her dying?”
“Like she said, it was to buy us some time,” Juniper said, changing into her dark-green shaded armor and attaching herself to Stinger’s currently lifeless form. Just as the soldiers burst in, they soon found themselves faced with one massive mecha pointing a laser rifle at them.
“Cute,” Savoy deadpanned. “I have to ask, what kind of woman sells out her own flesh and blood for alien steel?”
“Have to ask you the same thing,” Juniper asked. She noted Savoy now sported a gunshot wound on his right shoulder, the man having covered it up with a hand to stop it from bleeding out. “Because only way I see it, the only way you could have gotten this location? Well, it’s almost as if you had… help.”
“Well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. All in the name of his country of course,” Savoy smiled before shouting: “D-13, take her!”
Juniper was proven correct when Dropkick burst in through a wall and attempted to tackle Juniper before she reached out with Stinger and threw the massive Decepticon to the floor.
Parts shifted and changed before Stinger was now in the form of a Pagani Huayra, doors opening and Juniper shouting for Trixie to get in.
“D-13, after her!” Savoy roared out in anger. “After them both! We cannot let what happened here today be released to the public!”
“Understood,” Dropkick stated as he transformed to his Ford Ute mode and sped after the twosome. “Besides, I’ve got a bone to pick with those who use Cybertronian bodies like puppets.”
Engine whining as they took to the streets, Juniper weaved through oncoming traffic, Trixie yelping out in fear as she took a look in the rearview mirror. What she saw nearly stopped her heart, that being Dropkick rounding a corner and transforming to his gunship mode with missiles at the ready.
“Gee, I’d love to see them explain away this!” Trixie shouted in fear even as Juniper now used her new body, wires connecting her to Stinger’s own to dart right and left to avoid the missile shower.
“Maybe they’ll explain it away as being for a movie, seems to work a lot around here!” Juniper replied as she quickly found herself swerving around another corner, tires squealing out in protest as Trixie found herself thrown into the back of her seat.
A massive SUV, obviously government aligned given the huge blacked out windows and generally menacing appearance nearly slammed into Stinger from the side even as Dropkick flew overhead rotating on a dime. He did this so his front cannon was facing towards them, ready to fire off several shots.
However, what he didn’t anticipate -and he probably should have to be honest- was for Juniper to floor it and let the SUV take the blow, the vehicle flipping end over end and Dropkick having to change back to his ground-based mode to avoid being hit. He dropped to the pavement at the very last second, even as the flaming wreckage flew overhead.
“On your left!” Trixie shouted, Feral barking out in alarm as another SUV pulled up alongside them. However, the window rolled down to reveal Lennox at the wheel, with an unconscious Xiraia in the passenger’s seat.
“X-Xiraia?” Trixie stammered out. “You’re alive? But how…?”
“That gunshot? Me nicking Savoy in the shoulder, managed to drag Xiraia away in the chaos even as ‘Stinger’ as he seems to be called vanished into thin air and everyone tried to figure out what happened. Sorry about the little chase, had to keep up the ruse.”
“Oh yeah?” Trixie shouted. “How do we know you’re still not with them?”
“Please, if I was I would have shot you, and killed Xiraia. I’d never sell out to those walking junkpiles, unlike that coward Savoy,” Lennox shouted back. “Look me in the eyes, go on! Look me in the eyes, you’ll know I’m telling the truth then!”
Trixie studied Lennox hard, and honestly? She couldn’t find any hint of deception in his words. “You… You went undercover, didn’t you? Just to find out what Savoy was like, how he was getting his information!”
“Yeah, I did. Savoy’s a hypocrite through and through,” Lennox stated as the group entered a tunnel. “He’s led the Decepticons to Fowler, Chrysalis’ and Spitfire’s location, got them captured. Even now, they’re in Decepticon hands.”
“Bastard…” Trixie muttered.
“To say the least,” Lennox agreed. “Come on, we need to find the Autobots, and then rescue our friends. Savoy, and Cemetery Wind? They’ve got to be exposed.”
“Then let’s do it,” Juniper stated, opening a channel. “Calling all Autobots, calling all Autobots…”