Lights flickered over the dusty hall.
Some Maximal prisons were clean, but this one was nothing more than a glorified pound. The energy bars on prisoners' cells were the same waxy yellow as the overheads, giving the whole tunnel a sickly cast. A single, wide-shouldered guard, silver Maximal markings blazing on his upper arms, walked with purpose down the rows of cells, ignoring the harsh words of the gang members and street trash behind every door.
Only one of the prisoners had a solo cell; he'd been transferred there last week, after a call from Prowl Main Headquarters. That cell was where the guard stopped, and looked with disdain at the skinny furred mass huddled inside. The guard opened a panel on his arm, and, stepping wide in front of the yellow bars, pressed a button. The yellow bars on the solo cell vanished with a satisfying hum.
"Well, runt," the guard said, "looks like today's the day you get your transfer."
Now that the yellow energy bars were gone, the creature inside was barely noticeable. The Maximal prisoner named Velocity had gone from shivering on his bunk to shivering in the corner of his cell. His bulging brown eyes stared up at the guard, trying to determine if his presence here was part of a hallucination, or if the being before him was based in reality. The Chihuahuabot was already suffering terribly from the shakes, why not add illusions to his crop of withdrawal symptoms?
"You hear me?" the guard said, narrowing his dark red optics. "Get out. You've got some people that want to chat with you."
Velocity stopped shivering. Now he was too scared to move at all, and remained statue-like with an open jaw, flicked back ears, and huge unblinking eyes. Yes, this had to be a hallucination. Nobody would ever want to talk to him—nobody good, that is. He waited for the guard to grow an extra head, or to turn into a flaming dragon from the Pit. He'd heard from some fellow addicts that was how these things went. Realizing he didn't want to see those sights, he found enough muscle control in him to squeeze his eyes shut.
Suddenly, Velocity's feet left the ground, and he was jerked into the air. He had to credit imagination on its realism, he thought as he opened his eye a crack. He was flying out of prison! Maybe this dream wouldn't be so bad. Or maybe this was real life. His eyes fully open, the Chihuahua saw that he was being held aloft not by an overactive imagination brought on by his deteriorating internal systems, but by the guard. A low whine escaped his black lips, at which the taller bot snorted. Too scared to resist, Velocity did little more than shiver as he was walked down the hallway.
Voices echoed around Velocity's head.
"This is the one?"
"This is him."
"What a scrawny waste of gears."
"But good records...and they said, chemical tolerance."
"Chemical tolerance?"
"Uppers. High-O."
"Slag, a weakling like that would be LIGHTNING on High-O."
"That's the idea, I'm guessing."
Pause. A blurry flash. Was that—?
"That isn't LEGAL!! What are—"
"Orders, believe it or not. But they're taking him to the labs first. There's no point in hooking him up before they do...whatever it is they do."
The Maximal guard, whom Velocity was now seeing in double, took the prisoner to an armored car.
—Amanda Flowers, Lorriane Andras
Disarmed of all but her considerable charm, Nightfall stood before Oblivion himself, one of the only Predacons in the Secret Police cleared for knowledge about her new mission. Obilvion was not extraordinary in terms of physique, but his mottled insect body—he was part moth, part locust—had the eclectic colorations of a Transmetal II. He was alone, but flanked by an impressive computer security system: walls of lights and screens detailing all of the action in the Police's home base tunneled beneath the city of Predacon Polyhex; a sound dampener; an anti-cloak; and at least four autoguns that Nightfall could see.
"The mission you are about to undergo is top secret in every sense of the phrase," Oblivion began. "Should you succeed, a measure of fame and a healthy promotion both await you. Should you fail, the Police will disavow any knowledge of your existence, etcetera etcetera. And it goes without saying that I'll be erasing your processor. Provided that you live at all."
He stood up from his seat. "Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" From a slot in his desk, he pulled a small compact computer, and walked around to place it in Nightfall's hands. "In addition to your usual equipment, we're issuing you this. As well as the standard Predacon operating files, it has a couple of special additions. The first is the frequency of your mission monitor here at headquarters. The second is an encoded file marked 'LX Gold.' Do not open this file until cleared to do so. Or, rather, if you'd like to open it before you're cleared to do so, you can TRY, keeping in mind that I encoded it myself." He snickered.
"After leaving our Headquarters, head to Deus Academy, where you'll meet your first mission contact. He's expecting an escort from one of the Razor Women. Today, that's you."
The Razor Women and Deus Academy: two projects started under the new Predacon government. The first was an elite squadron of all-female warriors, known for clever tactics, keen minds, and loyalty to the Predacon Code. The latter was a government-funded school for the creation and training of Transmetal IIs: a rich and impressive university that sprawled the better part of a sector. Though many considered it nothing more than a thinly veiled method for controlling and cataloguing the Predacons' Transmetal IIs, it was also a chance for new TIIs to focus and study their powers, continuing to blur the line between magic and technology.
"Aspis is a Master Hypnotist;" Oblivion covered one of his eyes momentarily, "so try to avoid making too much eye contact. He's also a snake like yourself, so you'll make a cute couple." He paused. "That's sarcasm, in case you weren't expecting it. After your rendezvous you'll be on your own for transportation. Head northeast, to the feuding sectors, and the Dark Dragon territory. When you're past the border, call us on your computer for your next set of instructions."
He went back to his seat, and leaned back. "Fair warning: this mission will be taking you into outer space. So say 'Hi' to the Chief Engineer for me when you see him. I'll now accept any questions you have, and tell you whether or not I can answer them at all."
She smiled softly, as she'd expected, just enough of a leash to get the job done, or to strangle herself, depending on her skill... Just the kind of challenge she liked. "Is Aspis to be aware of my contact with you? Or shall I excuse myself to the little fembot's room?" She pondered a moment. "And if you're serious about saying hello to the engineer, I assume I should keep the fact I'm working for you secret?"
"Well, to everyone else. But he'll know me, thus, he'll know you work for me if you bring me up: in private. As far as Aspis goes, he's not—shall we say—in the loop. The idea behind a mission like this is to make other Predacons think it's all their idea."
"Understood. Given his background and powers, I think precautions are in order... I'll encode the mission data on the way, if anything happens, he or anyone else will find it much harder to find anything...unseemly."
Oblivion nodded. "Good idea. We WILL have a...company car take you to the Academy. Aspis knows that one of the 'Razor Women' is escorting him to Dark Dragon territory. It IS possible that..." Oblivion thinks for a moment... "High Command's operative will reach the border before you do. You'll know him when you see him: trust me. If High Command has instructions, you can forgo giving us a call."
"Understood, sir. I'll use my best judgement when the time comes." She sat back, already going over the possible outcomes.
"If you don't have any other questions, your ride is at ground level." Oblivion points upward.
She shook her head. "No sir." She stood, saluting. I won't let you down." She turned, heading out and to the elevator. Waiting until she was alone, she looked around. There were probably ears everywhere here, but these should she was here..." She activated her internal computers, filing the details about the conversation into a single file, with the password 'kitten'. "Computer, encode file 'kitten', double encryption..." She'd be able to access it when she needed, but now it would be hidden from any prying eyes that might try to look into her processors.
The doors opened to the ground floor, and Nightfall continued to the front security area, where a praying mantis guard returned and reactivated her weaponry. Checking over things herself, she turned to the front door, where a vehicle and driver awaited her. She slipped in, the pilot studiously trying to ignore her, though he couldn't help sneaking a peek at the lovely fem-bot despite training. Without a word, he drove off towards her destination.
—AF, Chris Bayliss
Embereyes counted the doors in the hall, looking at each plaque before she moved on. Scanner and his aide watched her every move; every once in a while the aide would lean over and whisper something in to his superior's ear. Embereyes felt nervous and stupid; she'd been in this hall before, but it wasn't her project or her department, and she still wasn't sure which subject was who or what.
"Ummm...here we go." She pushed a panel next to a door, and typed a pass code. The doors slid open, and Embereyes was surprised to find a blue force field crackling directly underneath. She stepped back, then sighed, embarrassed. Of course. Registered Pyrokinetic.
Disarming the force field next, Embereyes proceeded into the comfortable if sterile quarters of a Transmetal II. The room's occupant was tall, and eerily translucent, his entire body having the visual effect of wet glass. "Hi. Er...you're Viracide, right? ...I just got transferred, and..." She looked away to Scanner, waiting patiently outside the door. "These gentlemen here want to talk to you."
Viracide's eyes widened, looking at his guests, "Am I in...trouble?" Viracide's hand slightly shook. He curled his hand slightly in a fist and stopped the shaking. "Wait, how can I be in trouble? Forgive me; I'd been a little jumpy lately..." He faced the bots that wished to speak to him. "What do you wish to talk about?"
Embereyes blinked. "He's not in trouble, right?"
Scanner, calm as ever, gave his response. "No, you're not in any trouble. Far from it. You've been chosen to be part of a Maximal expedition: quite possbily, a rather prestigious one. If you'd like to come with us, we'll escort you to the briefing room. I've been told your powers are stable?"
Viracide was quite excited, "Finally a chance to do something with myself! Of course! I'd love to go!" Viracide's smile was as wide as ever. He then responded to Scanner's question, "Stable? Of course! I wouldn't stand for anything else. As you might know, I'm a pyrokenetic; I can set fires with my spark and what not. Also I can fire a bit of spark force, but you know that all ready, right? Now where's this briefing room?"
Scanner held up his hands. "Take it easy. Subdued enthusiasm, please."
He gestured once to the other agent, and then to Viracide. "Right this way. We'll be taking you to the military complex via underground tunnel, right after we pick up your other allies here."
He nodded to the female researcher. "As for you, you are dismissed. We'll contact you if there are any problems. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Yessir."
Scanner led Viracide through the Transmetal II wing of the labrotory building, and down to a sealed door two stories underground. Seeing no one else present, he flipped up a panel on his arm, and looked at his watch. He rolled his eyes, nodded again to his fellow agent, and the agent departed. Staring straight ahead, Scanner waited for the remainder of his team to arrive.
—AF, Barry Burnett
Containing Starscream had always taken extraordinary measures. For years, he had been locked behind dual force fields, nothing more than a floating spark in an energy cage. Shockwave had not been happy when the Predacon leader had provided Starscream with a Maximal body. Neither had Starscream at first—though as Kitfox he was clearly the fastest and most graceful creature alive, the lack of stature disappointed him, as did Shockwave's efforts to keep him silent by disconnecting his vocals when appropriate. Yet Shockwave had finally gotten used to Starscream's presence, so much so that, if for no other reason than Decepticon precedence, he often allowed Starscream to wander about his domain unsupervised.
Starscream eyed the Maximal Security officer that continued to tail him. ALMOST unsupervised.
Though he had long been nothing but a research subject himself, Starscream was also a researchER, and had little sympathy for the plight of the former. When he entered the sealed area that was the holding cell for Goldstreak, his first thought was that it was far too nice.
Starscream's second thought, which formed as he approached the tall tube where the subject was held in stasis, he promptly voiced aloud. "They didn't even bother to TRANSMETALLIZE the feathery clod!" It was true; though the robot body had gold armor, it also had a lion's pelt and eagle's wings. Grumbling a little, Starscream entered a code on the wall, and the tube slid up into the ceiling. Giving its occupant a chance to blink, Starscream stepped forward to address him.
"Good morning, 'Goldstreak.' Tell me. Do you know who I am?"
Goldstreak looked at him puzzled for a few seconds. "Should Goldstreak know you? He has not seen you before." He frowned looking at him, like he might know the face from somewhere. "Or does he?"
Starscream blinked a little, having not expected the fuzor's particular pattern of speech. "No. You haven't. And you shouldn't have, if my instructions were followed."
"We 'Maximals' are going to be taking you to a briefing area. I have the DISTINCT pleasure of coming to retrieve YOU personally..." He laughed. "And to give you a warning." He smiled sardonically. "Take a good look at the Maximals who make up your 'team,' my friend. This is a mission for them, but a field test for you, and you're the only one I believe will SURVIVE."
Another Maximal agent appeared in the entryway; he pointed at Starscream, then the back of his own wrist.
"Come with me," Starscream instructed. "And if you have any reservations, you'd better speak to me BEFORE Agent SCANNER—" he spoke the name with a spit and drew a line across his own throat— "cuts me off."
Goldstreak stood up and stretched, he didn't feel comfortable in this form but he knew somehow, they wouldn't want him to go to beast mode. Reservations, no Goldstreak has none of those. "Why is this mission so dangerous, and why do you think Goldstreak will be the only one to survive? Are the others weak or defective in some way?"
"Weak? Why, yes, in comparison, absolutely. Defective...?" Starscream looked at Goldstreak in disdain. "'Defective' is a relative term, also."
He followed Starscream out of the cell and down the hall. He didn't like it when the other bot moved into place to follow, but he put up with it. "Who is this Scanner anyway? Should Goldstreak be cautious of him, or isn't he worth this bot's trouble?"
"Scanner is a young Maximal idiot who'll die with the rest when his time comes, and isn't SMART enough to CARE. Not that I'm biased."
—AF, Mal Cato
Viracide paced back and forth waiting for something to happen. After a few minutes he spoke, "So, what are we waiting for?"
Scanner held up a single finger, then winced slightly as he heard a loud echo from down the hall. ...And insulting him, no less, but he was used to it. He nodded. "That."
Kitfox, Goldstreak, and the two Maximal agents appeared around the corner. Kitfox began to introduce the agent, in his usual screech, but before he could complete the phrase: "THIS is—" Scanner pushed a button on a small hand-held device. Kitfox choked slightly, and became silent, giving Scanner a cold, killer's look.
"On those occasions when we permit you to speak, we would prefer you NOT announce your presence to entire sectors. Nevertheless, we appreciate your cooperation." Scanner stepped aside. "Goldstreak, Viracide. You'll be partners. We have a third operative to collect here, as well, but chances are he isn't conscious yet."
One of the Maximal agents leaned over and whispers something to his superior.
Scanner straightened up. "Hasn't arrived yet. I wasn't aware of the delay, but, perhaps we can pick him up in the Transmetallization room. Kitfox, could you lead the way?"
Kitfox seemed to be just short of exploding, but, quickly, turned on his heel and marched down an adjoining hall, the other Maximals in pursuit.
Goldstreak looked over the two bot's, or Maximals, they had just come to. He was puzzled by the actions of the one that apears to be in charge. He must have been Scanner. He looked over the one that was supposed to be his partner, and filed the name Kitfox away for future reference. He decided he must find out more about this one.
He was not impressed by this Viracide, but decided he would reserve judgment on him for a later time. He watched him for a few seconds after Kitfox stormed off, then turned on his heel, unknowingly mimicing Kitfox's motion, and followed.
Viracide looked at Goldstreak. Viracide then wondered what kind of partner he would make. Be it that they never met before. Goldstreak then left. Viracide followed as well, "Uhhh, what's going on?" he asked Goldstreak. "Am I the only one that has no idea what this 'mission' is?"
Goldstreak continued to walk and didn't even turn to his so-called partner. "You have been told all that you need to know, for now. When you need to know more you will be told. That is the way these people work." He knew he had no idea what this mission was all about, but he was exited to be doing something. "You do what you're supposed to do, and Goldstreak will be happy."
Viracide looked away and continued to follow, "Sure, fine..." he responded. "I wonder if it's dangerous." Viracide looked at the possiblities of many battles and adventures, enough to get him excited again. "I can't wait!" he shouted.
The cry echoed down the halls, and he was promptly shushed by one of the Maximal agents.
—BB, AF, MC