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wyntir_knightTitle: The Devil You Know
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day two and still going strong. I got my word count in just in time, so it still counts for today -- make that yesterday, as it's now tomorrow. And, in fact, as I write I'm getting a better feel for the future of the story, beyond what I already had planned. This should be a good thing.
2871 / 50000 words. 6% done!
Chapter 1
“Arclight! Wake up!”
Arclight was jarred from her recharge by Cycle as he shook her insistently.
“What? What’s going on?” Arclight asked groggily.
Suddenly a jolt shook the ship, knocking her off the berth and onto the floor.
“What the frell is going on?” she demanded.
“We have to go!” Cycle exclaimed, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. “I think we’re under attack!”
The claxon of a delayed siren split the air and the room lights cut out, replaced moments later with the red light signifying an emergency situation. Over the noise the communications system cracked to life.
“… -tain speaking. We are under *crzzhth* Repeat, *thrxxxcht* -ack! All hands to bat- -ions! Repeat, all *chrththrx*”
“Great,” Arclight muttered. “Come on, we need to get to the med bay!”
She and Cycle ran out of their quarters and right into a scene straight from the depths of the Pit itself. Mechs ran through the halls, seemingly heedless of their destination, pushing and shoving each other as they desperately tried to get away from … something. Arclight and Cycle stopped only for a moment before pushing their way through the crowd and toward the med bay. Another jolt shook the ship sending Cycle tumbling against a wall, painfully cracking his shoulder. From somewhere in the bowels of the ship, an explosion was heard and the ship shook far more violently than it had before. Screams of terror began to fill the halls and the crowds pressed forward faster, but now, they were all moving in the same direction, opposite from the way that Arclight and Cycle needed to go. Arclight grabbed his arm and helped pull him along through the crowd.
Suddenly Cycle was ripped away from her and carried away by the tide of refugees as they moved in a panicked flock.
“Cycle!” she screamed.
“Get to the med bay! I’ll catch up with you!” he cried out before he was dragged out of site.
Arclight paused for only a moment. She desperately wanted to go after her friend, but she knew he was right, she needed to keep moving. Even in the name of friendship, there wasn’t time for heroics. Arclight ran through the halls of the Stormchaser, past the few straggling mechs, desperate to get to the escape pods. Her only thought was that she had to get to the med bay. Another shudder passed through the ship as the Decepticons made another direct hit on the hull, then, suddenly, an eerie silence descended. The shuddering and explosions stopped, and even the engines silenced. The Decepticons had succeeded in disabling the ships.
“All hands! Get to escape pods immediately!” the captain’s voice rang through the ship wide communicator, clear for the first time since she had woken up.
Arclight ignored the message. She had to get to the med bay. The other medics would refuse to leave until all the injured had been evacuated and she had to help them before the Decepticons got there. She knew full well that the ‘Cons had a history of killing medics on sight, regardless of allegiance, and she doubted that they would care that this was a vessel of peaceful refugees or that this was a mission of mercy. All that the Decepticons cared about was bringing destruction and tyranny. Not that the Autobots were much better. After all, as vaunted as the Autobot ideals were, they were just as guilty of destruction as the Decepticons were, but the difference was that no Autobot would ever attack a passenger ship. Not while Sentinel was Prime.
She had heard him speak once and it had almost been enough to make her change her beliefs. But she and Ratchet were adamant that they would remain Neutral. They had taken an oath to provide medical care to all who needed it. The oath didn’t say ‘everyone except Decepticons’, and she took that oath seriously.
Her mind was drawn out her reflections as she rounded another corner, leading her into a corridor that should have brought her directly to the med bay. A wall of broken cables, beams, and debris blocked the path. She was about to turn around to find another path when a she heard a muffled whimper from the depths of the rubble.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she asked as she approached the pile.
“Help … please …,” a small voice said, so softly that Arclight thought she might have been imagining it.
“Hold on! I’ll try to get through to you, just hold on!” she cried out.
She approached the pile slowly, looking for the best way to shift it. The problem was that she had no idea of how to do it, or where the victim was. She brought her sensors online and began to scan for the tell-tale sign of a Cybertronian energy signature. After a moment, she found what she was looking for, and it was like the rubble was made of translucent glass, she could see the shadow of the injured mech as if he was standing behind an illuminated curtain.
“I can see where you are, and I think I can get through. What’s you name?” she asked.
“Rivet. My name’s Rivet,” came the weak reply.
“All right Rivet, my name’s Arclight. Just stay still and I’ll be through in a moment,” she said.
“What’s your function on the ship?” she asked in an attempt to keep him alert and talking.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, that’s classified,” Rivet replied in a weak voice.
“Classified? What do you mean?” she asked as she worked her way past a fallen beam.
“It’s not my place to say,” he replied with a grunt.
In her enhanced vision, she saw him try to push at one of the beams that held him pinned to the deck.
“Careful, wait ‘till I get there before you move anything. You’re probably hurt more than you realize?” she said quickly.
“You’re a medic?” Rivet asked. “Are you one of the colonists?”
“No,” she replied with a grunt as she pushed a door out of her way carefully. “I’m one of the crew. I’ll be headed back to Cybertron once we get the colonists settled. What about you? Are you crew?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I really can’t go into it, but suffice it to say, I’m an Autobot.”
Arclight froze.
“An Autobot?” she asked. “I didn’t think we had any Autobot volunteers. Are you a scientist?”
“I really can’t go into -,” he began, but then cut off suddenly. “I think I hear someone coming from this side. Turn around and head back.”
“What?” Arclight said. “No! You’re hurt and you need medical attention.”
“Just do what you’re told, Medic,” Rivet ordered roughly.
“I most certainly-,” she began.
“Just do what you’re told and you might survive a few more minutes,” Rivet ordered.
Suddenly he heaved forward, throwing debris off him. The pile shook aroung her, but miraculously stayed put, and her path back remained clear. The path ahead, however, closed off as a large piece of plating fell in front of her. It was enough to stop her forward momentum, but not enough to blind her “sight” of the area beyond the pile. Arclight saw Rivet stand and there was a flash in her vision, the tell tale sign that he wad leaking copious amounts of fluid. He turned and faced the far corridor, bringing up a long, black object that she could only assume was a gun of some sort.
“What are you doing? You’ll leak to death if you don’t get help,” she yelled out to him.
“Yeah, that’s if I’m lucky,” Rivet muttered.
As she watched, three new figures appeared, entering from the corridor, just beyond her sight. There was something odd about their shape, vaguely triangular.
“Well what have we here?” a rough voice asked.
“It looks like a poor lost Autobot,” a high pitched voice replied with a maniacal giggle. “What are you doing here all by your lonesome?”
“Get slagged,” Rivet growled.
“Oh, now that’s not nice,” a third voice said. This one was soft and silky, but there was something slimy and hypnotic about it. “We just want to ask you a question.”
“Yeah, we got turned around, and now we need some directions. You can help us out right?” the rough voice asked.
“Frag off,” Rivet said, his voice as cold as ice and twice as deadly.
As Arclight watched in petrified silence, Rivet raised his weapon and fired at the trio.
“Awww! Did you miss us?” the hysterical voice asked.
Suddenly one of the shaped shot forward and grabbed Rivet, pinning him to the debris, causing the pile to shudder violently.
“Now, we just need you to answer a question,” the silky one asked. “Where is your cargo?”
Arclight was taken aback. Their only cargo was supplies for the refugees, hardly something the Decepticons would be interested in. Rivet didn’t respond to his attackers. Even as they shook him, all they got was a quiet squeak as they began to crush his vocalizer.
“We’re not going to get anything out of this one,” the rough voice said. “Just kill him and get it over with.”
“Awww!” the hysterical voice whined. “I wanted to play!”
“We don’t have time, we need to find the cargo bay,” the silky voice replied.
“Oh, fine.”
Arclight’s vision didn’t give her the ability to see the shot, but she did hear the report of the rifle and saw the spray of energon as Rivet’s chest was blown out his back. A terrified squeak escaped her mouth, exposing her position to the Decepticons.
“We’ve got company,” the grating voice said, tuning his attention to the pile.
Arclight scrambled quickly backwards through the wreckage in a desperate bid for escape, but she was too slow. As soon as she got out, the wall behind her exploded outward in a shower of debris and shrapnel. She felt a sharp piece of metal piece her left shoulder, throwing her to the floor. Miraculously, the fall saved her from further damage and she was quickly able to get her feet under her. She ran from the scene at full tilt, wishing desperately that the halls were wide enough for her to transform, but her blade-span was too wide to allow for that, and so she ran as if the Unmaker himself was on her heels. The only advantage of the tight space was that if she couldn’t flu, the Seekers most certainly couldn’t. She heard the Decepticons laughing as they followed, treating this like a hunt, like a game.
She knew the inside of the Stormchaser well, but the damage caused by the Decepticons had rendered the halls nearly unrecognizable. After the third dead end in a row, and with the knowledge that the Decepticons were closing in on her, Arclight decided to take a chance on hiding. With luck, the Decepticons would move past her, and she could double back and, hopefully, find a safe path to the med bay.
It didn’t take her long to find a room that was mostly filled with debris. A fallen beam provided a perfect hiding place, and in the shadows, her dark grey and blue paint helped to conceal her. Of course, if the Decepticons were using any form of sensor, she would be found in no time, but this was a better plan than wildly, and aimlessly running.
She settled into the hollow and waited, idling her engine and depressing her vents in an attempt to remain as silent as possible. For what felt like an eternity she waited. Then she heard the approach of a measured tread. Slowly they came, stopping by her hiding area before moving on again silently. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that she had fooled them, even though it was far more likely that this was all a part of their twisted game. After a long time on hearing nothing, she moved to leave the confines of her hiding place and head off toward the med bay.
Suddenly, her internal communicator crackled to life, startling her enough that she cried out sharply. She covered her mouth with her hand and prayed to Primus that the Decepticons hadn’t heard her.
“Arclight, it’s Cycle. I’m at the Med Bay and you need to get here. We’ve gotten the last of the injured together and we’re about to head to the pods.”
“Thank Primus, you’re okay,” Arclight replied, relief flooding her voice.
“Yeah, I got away from the crowd and doubled back,” Cycle replied. “Where are you? I thought you’d have beaten me here.”
“I got cornered by a group of Decepticons, but I think I’ve lost them. I’ll be at the medbay in a few nanos,” she replied.
“Sure thing, I’ll see you shortly and you can tell me all about it in the pods,” Cycle replied.
She cut the connection and continued to run in the direction of the med bay. The path this time was clear, but it seemed that the Decepticons had renewed their attack on the ship. A sudden, violent explosion rocked the corridor, sending her sprawling to the floor in a heap. A wave of fear shocked through her Spark as she felt the ship begin to move again, but rather than the gentle pressure of normal forward momentum, this felt like they were falling. She pulled herself off the floor and ran toward the med bay, desperately trying to call Cycle on her communicator and only receiving static. She flew around corners, bouncing roughly against walls and skidding on fuel stained plating as she ran. One last corner and she would be at her destination. One last corner and she could escape this Pit.
She slowed as she reached the door of the bay, shoved it open and stopped as suddenly as if she had been shut down. Arclight stopped and stared at the empty space beyond the door. Where once there had been a med bay, now there was nothing. A force field flickered like a shimmering curtain, separating the ship from the vacuum of space.
“No,” she whispered, falling to her knees. “No …”
“Well, well, well,” a silky voice said from behind her. “It seems that we finally caught up with out little runaway.”
Arclight turned quickly and scrabbled away from the three approaching Decepticons. Stopping only when she felt the force field shock her wing blades.
“There’s nowhere to run, little Medic,” the green one said in his silky voice. “Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.”
“Now, tell us where the cargo hold is and we might just let you live,” the purple one with the rough tone growled.
“I don’t know what you want,” Arclight replied tightly. “We’re a refugee vessel. We don’t have anything you want or need.”
“I think that we may know better than you on what we need and what we don’t.” Green replied.
“Leave me alone with her for five – no, ten minutes, and I’ll get her to tell us everything,” he hysterical, orange Seeker said with a leer.
“You can have two minutes, Killzone. We can’t spare anymore time than that,” Green said.
“Two minutes?! I can hardly have any fun in two minutes!” Killzone whined.
“No, but you can bring her with us after you get the information we need,” Purple said. “And then you can take all the time you need and maybe share the wealth, so to speak,” he added, running his glossa over his lips in anticipation.
Arclight shuddered in disgust and tried to work her way around the three Decepticons, desperate for a way to escape.
“Now, now,” Killzone said, blocking her path. “We’re hardly done with you. I just need you to answer a few questions, and then I promise we’ll be real nice to you. It won’t even hurt … much.”
“I will not tell you anything!” Arclight hissed as she pulled two short laser swords from her pocket. “Now let me go!”
“A fighting medic! Now how fun is that!” Green cried. “This is wonderful, and bit of sport before a bit of sport.”
The three Decepticons closed around her staying just out of reach, continuing to toy with her. She was about to throw herself at Killzone when a violent shudder rocked the ship, sending them all tumbling to the floor. Beyond the door, Arclight could see a rich green world approaching quickly, as the Stormchaser tumbled out of orbit. Another shudder and she was thrown across the room. Killzone ploughed into her, crushing her against the plating of the wall. She felt her systems begin to redline as pressure and heat built up around her. She heard metal scream as it buckled and ripped, tearing away from the ship. There was a snap and a crack, and suddenly the forcefield that separated her from the outside died in a flash of sparks. She watched in horror as Green was picked up and flung from the vessel followed closely by Purple. It was the last thing she saw before the pressure and heat finally overloaded her weakened systems, and she fell in the merciful silence of an offline state.
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day two and still going strong. I got my word count in just in time, so it still counts for today -- make that yesterday, as it's now tomorrow. And, in fact, as I write I'm getting a better feel for the future of the story, beyond what I already had planned. This should be a good thing.
“Arclight! Wake up!”
Arclight was jarred from her recharge by Cycle as he shook her insistently.
“What? What’s going on?” Arclight asked groggily.
Suddenly a jolt shook the ship, knocking her off the berth and onto the floor.
“What the frell is going on?” she demanded.
“We have to go!” Cycle exclaimed, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. “I think we’re under attack!”
The claxon of a delayed siren split the air and the room lights cut out, replaced moments later with the red light signifying an emergency situation. Over the noise the communications system cracked to life.
“… -tain speaking. We are under *crzzhth* Repeat, *thrxxxcht* -ack! All hands to bat- -ions! Repeat, all *chrththrx*”
“Great,” Arclight muttered. “Come on, we need to get to the med bay!”
She and Cycle ran out of their quarters and right into a scene straight from the depths of the Pit itself. Mechs ran through the halls, seemingly heedless of their destination, pushing and shoving each other as they desperately tried to get away from … something. Arclight and Cycle stopped only for a moment before pushing their way through the crowd and toward the med bay. Another jolt shook the ship sending Cycle tumbling against a wall, painfully cracking his shoulder. From somewhere in the bowels of the ship, an explosion was heard and the ship shook far more violently than it had before. Screams of terror began to fill the halls and the crowds pressed forward faster, but now, they were all moving in the same direction, opposite from the way that Arclight and Cycle needed to go. Arclight grabbed his arm and helped pull him along through the crowd.
Suddenly Cycle was ripped away from her and carried away by the tide of refugees as they moved in a panicked flock.
“Cycle!” she screamed.
“Get to the med bay! I’ll catch up with you!” he cried out before he was dragged out of site.
Arclight paused for only a moment. She desperately wanted to go after her friend, but she knew he was right, she needed to keep moving. Even in the name of friendship, there wasn’t time for heroics. Arclight ran through the halls of the Stormchaser, past the few straggling mechs, desperate to get to the escape pods. Her only thought was that she had to get to the med bay. Another shudder passed through the ship as the Decepticons made another direct hit on the hull, then, suddenly, an eerie silence descended. The shuddering and explosions stopped, and even the engines silenced. The Decepticons had succeeded in disabling the ships.
“All hands! Get to escape pods immediately!” the captain’s voice rang through the ship wide communicator, clear for the first time since she had woken up.
Arclight ignored the message. She had to get to the med bay. The other medics would refuse to leave until all the injured had been evacuated and she had to help them before the Decepticons got there. She knew full well that the ‘Cons had a history of killing medics on sight, regardless of allegiance, and she doubted that they would care that this was a vessel of peaceful refugees or that this was a mission of mercy. All that the Decepticons cared about was bringing destruction and tyranny. Not that the Autobots were much better. After all, as vaunted as the Autobot ideals were, they were just as guilty of destruction as the Decepticons were, but the difference was that no Autobot would ever attack a passenger ship. Not while Sentinel was Prime.
She had heard him speak once and it had almost been enough to make her change her beliefs. But she and Ratchet were adamant that they would remain Neutral. They had taken an oath to provide medical care to all who needed it. The oath didn’t say ‘everyone except Decepticons’, and she took that oath seriously.
Her mind was drawn out her reflections as she rounded another corner, leading her into a corridor that should have brought her directly to the med bay. A wall of broken cables, beams, and debris blocked the path. She was about to turn around to find another path when a she heard a muffled whimper from the depths of the rubble.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she asked as she approached the pile.
“Help … please …,” a small voice said, so softly that Arclight thought she might have been imagining it.
“Hold on! I’ll try to get through to you, just hold on!” she cried out.
She approached the pile slowly, looking for the best way to shift it. The problem was that she had no idea of how to do it, or where the victim was. She brought her sensors online and began to scan for the tell-tale sign of a Cybertronian energy signature. After a moment, she found what she was looking for, and it was like the rubble was made of translucent glass, she could see the shadow of the injured mech as if he was standing behind an illuminated curtain.
“I can see where you are, and I think I can get through. What’s you name?” she asked.
“Rivet. My name’s Rivet,” came the weak reply.
“All right Rivet, my name’s Arclight. Just stay still and I’ll be through in a moment,” she said.
“What’s your function on the ship?” she asked in an attempt to keep him alert and talking.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, that’s classified,” Rivet replied in a weak voice.
“Classified? What do you mean?” she asked as she worked her way past a fallen beam.
“It’s not my place to say,” he replied with a grunt.
In her enhanced vision, she saw him try to push at one of the beams that held him pinned to the deck.
“Careful, wait ‘till I get there before you move anything. You’re probably hurt more than you realize?” she said quickly.
“You’re a medic?” Rivet asked. “Are you one of the colonists?”
“No,” she replied with a grunt as she pushed a door out of her way carefully. “I’m one of the crew. I’ll be headed back to Cybertron once we get the colonists settled. What about you? Are you crew?”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I really can’t go into it, but suffice it to say, I’m an Autobot.”
Arclight froze.
“An Autobot?” she asked. “I didn’t think we had any Autobot volunteers. Are you a scientist?”
“I really can’t go into -,” he began, but then cut off suddenly. “I think I hear someone coming from this side. Turn around and head back.”
“What?” Arclight said. “No! You’re hurt and you need medical attention.”
“Just do what you’re told, Medic,” Rivet ordered roughly.
“I most certainly-,” she began.
“Just do what you’re told and you might survive a few more minutes,” Rivet ordered.
Suddenly he heaved forward, throwing debris off him. The pile shook aroung her, but miraculously stayed put, and her path back remained clear. The path ahead, however, closed off as a large piece of plating fell in front of her. It was enough to stop her forward momentum, but not enough to blind her “sight” of the area beyond the pile. Arclight saw Rivet stand and there was a flash in her vision, the tell tale sign that he wad leaking copious amounts of fluid. He turned and faced the far corridor, bringing up a long, black object that she could only assume was a gun of some sort.
“What are you doing? You’ll leak to death if you don’t get help,” she yelled out to him.
“Yeah, that’s if I’m lucky,” Rivet muttered.
As she watched, three new figures appeared, entering from the corridor, just beyond her sight. There was something odd about their shape, vaguely triangular.
“Well what have we here?” a rough voice asked.
“It looks like a poor lost Autobot,” a high pitched voice replied with a maniacal giggle. “What are you doing here all by your lonesome?”
“Get slagged,” Rivet growled.
“Oh, now that’s not nice,” a third voice said. This one was soft and silky, but there was something slimy and hypnotic about it. “We just want to ask you a question.”
“Yeah, we got turned around, and now we need some directions. You can help us out right?” the rough voice asked.
“Frag off,” Rivet said, his voice as cold as ice and twice as deadly.
As Arclight watched in petrified silence, Rivet raised his weapon and fired at the trio.
“Awww! Did you miss us?” the hysterical voice asked.
Suddenly one of the shaped shot forward and grabbed Rivet, pinning him to the debris, causing the pile to shudder violently.
“Now, we just need you to answer a question,” the silky one asked. “Where is your cargo?”
Arclight was taken aback. Their only cargo was supplies for the refugees, hardly something the Decepticons would be interested in. Rivet didn’t respond to his attackers. Even as they shook him, all they got was a quiet squeak as they began to crush his vocalizer.
“We’re not going to get anything out of this one,” the rough voice said. “Just kill him and get it over with.”
“Awww!” the hysterical voice whined. “I wanted to play!”
“We don’t have time, we need to find the cargo bay,” the silky voice replied.
“Oh, fine.”
Arclight’s vision didn’t give her the ability to see the shot, but she did hear the report of the rifle and saw the spray of energon as Rivet’s chest was blown out his back. A terrified squeak escaped her mouth, exposing her position to the Decepticons.
“We’ve got company,” the grating voice said, tuning his attention to the pile.
Arclight scrambled quickly backwards through the wreckage in a desperate bid for escape, but she was too slow. As soon as she got out, the wall behind her exploded outward in a shower of debris and shrapnel. She felt a sharp piece of metal piece her left shoulder, throwing her to the floor. Miraculously, the fall saved her from further damage and she was quickly able to get her feet under her. She ran from the scene at full tilt, wishing desperately that the halls were wide enough for her to transform, but her blade-span was too wide to allow for that, and so she ran as if the Unmaker himself was on her heels. The only advantage of the tight space was that if she couldn’t flu, the Seekers most certainly couldn’t. She heard the Decepticons laughing as they followed, treating this like a hunt, like a game.
She knew the inside of the Stormchaser well, but the damage caused by the Decepticons had rendered the halls nearly unrecognizable. After the third dead end in a row, and with the knowledge that the Decepticons were closing in on her, Arclight decided to take a chance on hiding. With luck, the Decepticons would move past her, and she could double back and, hopefully, find a safe path to the med bay.
It didn’t take her long to find a room that was mostly filled with debris. A fallen beam provided a perfect hiding place, and in the shadows, her dark grey and blue paint helped to conceal her. Of course, if the Decepticons were using any form of sensor, she would be found in no time, but this was a better plan than wildly, and aimlessly running.
She settled into the hollow and waited, idling her engine and depressing her vents in an attempt to remain as silent as possible. For what felt like an eternity she waited. Then she heard the approach of a measured tread. Slowly they came, stopping by her hiding area before moving on again silently. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that she had fooled them, even though it was far more likely that this was all a part of their twisted game. After a long time on hearing nothing, she moved to leave the confines of her hiding place and head off toward the med bay.
Suddenly, her internal communicator crackled to life, startling her enough that she cried out sharply. She covered her mouth with her hand and prayed to Primus that the Decepticons hadn’t heard her.
“Arclight, it’s Cycle. I’m at the Med Bay and you need to get here. We’ve gotten the last of the injured together and we’re about to head to the pods.”
“Thank Primus, you’re okay,” Arclight replied, relief flooding her voice.
“Yeah, I got away from the crowd and doubled back,” Cycle replied. “Where are you? I thought you’d have beaten me here.”
“I got cornered by a group of Decepticons, but I think I’ve lost them. I’ll be at the medbay in a few nanos,” she replied.
“Sure thing, I’ll see you shortly and you can tell me all about it in the pods,” Cycle replied.
She cut the connection and continued to run in the direction of the med bay. The path this time was clear, but it seemed that the Decepticons had renewed their attack on the ship. A sudden, violent explosion rocked the corridor, sending her sprawling to the floor in a heap. A wave of fear shocked through her Spark as she felt the ship begin to move again, but rather than the gentle pressure of normal forward momentum, this felt like they were falling. She pulled herself off the floor and ran toward the med bay, desperately trying to call Cycle on her communicator and only receiving static. She flew around corners, bouncing roughly against walls and skidding on fuel stained plating as she ran. One last corner and she would be at her destination. One last corner and she could escape this Pit.
She slowed as she reached the door of the bay, shoved it open and stopped as suddenly as if she had been shut down. Arclight stopped and stared at the empty space beyond the door. Where once there had been a med bay, now there was nothing. A force field flickered like a shimmering curtain, separating the ship from the vacuum of space.
“No,” she whispered, falling to her knees. “No …”
“Well, well, well,” a silky voice said from behind her. “It seems that we finally caught up with out little runaway.”
Arclight turned quickly and scrabbled away from the three approaching Decepticons. Stopping only when she felt the force field shock her wing blades.
“There’s nowhere to run, little Medic,” the green one said in his silky voice. “Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.”
“Now, tell us where the cargo hold is and we might just let you live,” the purple one with the rough tone growled.
“I don’t know what you want,” Arclight replied tightly. “We’re a refugee vessel. We don’t have anything you want or need.”
“I think that we may know better than you on what we need and what we don’t.” Green replied.
“Leave me alone with her for five – no, ten minutes, and I’ll get her to tell us everything,” he hysterical, orange Seeker said with a leer.
“You can have two minutes, Killzone. We can’t spare anymore time than that,” Green said.
“Two minutes?! I can hardly have any fun in two minutes!” Killzone whined.
“No, but you can bring her with us after you get the information we need,” Purple said. “And then you can take all the time you need and maybe share the wealth, so to speak,” he added, running his glossa over his lips in anticipation.
Arclight shuddered in disgust and tried to work her way around the three Decepticons, desperate for a way to escape.
“Now, now,” Killzone said, blocking her path. “We’re hardly done with you. I just need you to answer a few questions, and then I promise we’ll be real nice to you. It won’t even hurt … much.”
“I will not tell you anything!” Arclight hissed as she pulled two short laser swords from her pocket. “Now let me go!”
“A fighting medic! Now how fun is that!” Green cried. “This is wonderful, and bit of sport before a bit of sport.”
The three Decepticons closed around her staying just out of reach, continuing to toy with her. She was about to throw herself at Killzone when a violent shudder rocked the ship, sending them all tumbling to the floor. Beyond the door, Arclight could see a rich green world approaching quickly, as the Stormchaser tumbled out of orbit. Another shudder and she was thrown across the room. Killzone ploughed into her, crushing her against the plating of the wall. She felt her systems begin to redline as pressure and heat built up around her. She heard metal scream as it buckled and ripped, tearing away from the ship. There was a snap and a crack, and suddenly the forcefield that separated her from the outside died in a flash of sparks. She watched in horror as Green was picked up and flung from the vessel followed closely by Purple. It was the last thing she saw before the pressure and heat finally overloaded her weakened systems, and she fell in the merciful silence of an offline state.
