The echoing, metallic rattle of an opening trapdoor at the back of a shadow-drenched alley cut through the stillness of the Cybertronian night. In the empty, neon-lit darkness, a young Maximal stuck her head up through the opening and looked around nervously, listening and smelling as much as seeing. Satisfied that all was clear, she silently pulled herself up to ground level. The sleek black fur and blue and silver metal of her lean technorganic body shone in the faint lights from the abandoned buildings that towered over her. She rose to her feet and paused again, her bright blue eyes darting from side to side. After making sure the motion of her ascent hadn't alerted anyone lurking in the shadows to her presence, she shifted in a halo of blue light to her panther altmode. It impressed her as always how much more of her heightened animal senses were carried over to her robot mode in this new body, making the change from one mode to another less jarring than before. She sniffed the air one last time, then with an etherial feline grace slowly approached the mouth of the alleyway.
Keeping to the shadows, the Maximal surveyed the scene ahead of her. It was the same as every night on this patrol. The street and buildings were still lit by mechanisms too old and ingrained to be destroyed by a simple war, but the structures themselves were completely devoid of life. The street so many of her fellow Cybertrons had passed down, the buildings so many had lived and worked and played in, now were all desolate. All that was left were the tiny pockets of survivors, those who had miraculously survived both the virus and the waves after waves of attacking drones that had followed it, and all of them put together wouldn't be enough to fill these streets again. She sighed as she listened to the silence. She didn't know what was sadder, what had happened or how quickly she had gotten used to it. The stillness was welcome to her now. The rumble of the tank drones, the buzz of the cycle drones, the roar of the jet drones, those were the only sounds there were anymore, and those always meant trouble.
Contented by the silence, the young Maximal relaxed, checking her chronometer. She instinctively groomed herself, then started off down the street, staying in the shadows beside the tall buildings. These patrols had become more and more necessary of late, and tonight Snarl had almost everyone in their group out doing them. As more survivors joined their group, and as they finally started honing their abilities to the point where they could actually destroy the drones, it seemed Megatron was stepping up his own patrols, trying to locate and finish off the last stragglers before they became even more of a threat. Not that she minded being on patrol all that much. She had the tiniest twinge of claustrophobia, and being cooped up underground for mega-cycles at a time got to her.
She looked up at the sky as she walked, padding soundlessly along the street. The Cybertronian night sky was always a welcome sight. The stars shone, hundreds upon hundreds of them, bright as lasers and infinitely more beautiful. And the moon, even the poor moon with its gashes was a breathtaking vision after nothing but ceilings. And she had other reasons for wanting to be out at night.
She turned a corner, following her patrol route, and a clearing opened across the street. It had once been a beautiful garden park, scattered with statues and monuments to great Autobot and Maximal heroes of wars past. Now it was little more than a barren clearing scattered with rubble, even the great figure of Optimus Prime himself in the center destroyed by the tank drones. Calling up the chronometer on her visual display again, she ducked into her usual alleyway across from the park and sat back on her haunches, watching the park attentively. After a moment she made out a movement in the sky, a barely-discernable flapping of wings that grew to become the form of a majestically soaring eagle. As she watched, invisible in the shadows of the alley, the great bird swooped down and came to rest on top of a pile of rubble at the edge of the park nearest her. The hidden Maximal's heart raced at how close he had landed tonight. On her very first patrol she had discovered this unreformatted Maximal flying his own patrol around the city, but Snarl had told her their group wasn't ready to start making contact with the other survivors around the planet, so for the moment she was content to watch him as, every night, he took a moment to rest in the rubble of the park. She watched from the shadows as he preened, wondering as always who he was and what he was like. In her mind she had already daydreamed him into a great, handsome hero, and she always watched closely for the slightest gesture or mannerism that would confirm this.
As she watched he suddenly stopped his grooming and looked over at her hiding place, head cocked. Startled, she held her breath, hoping he hadn't actually seen her. She knew it was almost impossible, given her ability to blend into the shadows, but as she stared into his eyes she felt he really was looking back at her. She realized in the eternal moment she was locked in his gaze that he had been moving closer and closer to her hiding spot for the past several nights, almost as if he had been testing her. Was he afraid she'd be hostile? There had been a handful of scuffles between some surviving Maximals and Predacons, so she could understand his distrust. But was she just imagining that he knew she was there?
Then he jerked his head away, and the moment was gone. The young Maximal couldn't see what he was looking at from the alley, but suddenly she realized what had caught his attention. A low buzzing sound, growing louder by the nanocycle- race car drones. She sat frozen there, hoping the combination of her beast mode and the shadows would keep them from detecting her. Her eagle friend, however, had no such concerns for stealth. He took to the air in a flurry of wings and feathers, glancing back quickly as he rose. She bounded to the mouth of the alleyway to watch him go and was greeted by the high, sharp sound of laser fire. She instinctively pulled back, then realized they weren't shooting at her. She looked up to see the bright laser bolts cutting through the night sky, their searing red light illuminating the eagle as he frantically dipped and turned, trying to make himself a hard target for the mindless drones. The panther stood transfixed, praying to whatever deity Cybertron might have still watching over it in these dark days that he make it safely away from these Vehicons.
But if Cybertron did still have a patron god it chose to ignore her plea. As she watched in horror a stray blast shot through his wing, halting his erratic flight long enough for the drones to get a targeting lock and fire off a volley of laser fire that tore through his body and sent him spiraling to the ground.
And the young panther knew what she had to do. Leaving all pretenses of stealth behind, she tore through the abandoned city streets to where the eagle had fallen, racing with all her feline speed to get to him before the Vehicons did. Neon lights blurred around her as she sped to his side, the engines of the drones growing louder and louder as she ran. Finally she turned a corner and found him lying on his side in the middle of the street, mech-fluids leaking slowly onto the road surface. Her heart ached at the sight of so majestic a creature lying there, injured, bleeding, quite possibly dead. She moved quickly but carefully to his side, hoping for at least a chance to see if he was still alive before the Vehicons arrived. Transforming to her robot mode, she knelt beside him. She touched the wing that was covering most of him, revelling for a tiny moment in the softness of his feathers. She bent over to look at his face and suddenly a panicked eye shot open. She jerked back slightly, then sighed with relief. "Be still," she whispered to him, aware that the drones were almost upon them. "I'm Nightstalker. I'm...a friend. Just trust me, okay?" He nodded slightly, stiffly, and she noticed his eyes seemed calmer.
Nightstalker brushed her hand over his feathers one more time, steeling herself for the fight, then rose. She turned back the way she came, to the corner the drones would be tearing around any moment, and took a few steps away from the eagle. The young Maximal closed her own eyes and concentrated, calling upon all her recent training to summon up the ability that had been the Oracle's gift with her Reformatted body. The air around her grew dark as she drew the light energy into herself, concentrating and amplifying it with her own power. Ready to attack, she half-opened her eyes just in time to see the lead car race around the corner. She clasped her hands and channeled the energy through her pointing fingers, letting loose a laser blast at the car's vulnerable front axle. Her shot hit home, blowing off a tire and sending the drone careening into a building with a tremendous crash. But before she could determine if the lead car was still functional two more shot into view, guns blazing. She braced herself, trying to protect the eagle as best she could from the onslaught of the Vehicons. The first volley of plasma mines exploded all around her, sending a rain of pulverized pavement in every direction as they buzzed by, flanking them. The Maximal glanced down at the prone form behind her, relieved to see him spared further harm but knowing her dark aura wouldn't throw off their aim for much longer. She prepared another blast as they transformed, levelling their arm-mounted missle launchers at her. Just as she began to aim she heard the sound of another missle firing behind her and threw herself to the ground. The lead drone's projectile whistled over her head and hit one of the other robots, exploding spectacularly. "One down," she muttered to herself as she tried to shield the injured eagle from the downfall of drone scrap. But it was scant relief. She knew she was in tactically the worst position possible, with enemies on both sides and no way to retreat to cover. But she had to try. Still covering the other Maximal, she raised her head to make a quick asessment of the situation. The lead drone, though heavily damamged, was now staggering toward her in robot mode, its remaining missle at the ready. The other drone, though not nearly as wrecked, had been thrown into a wall by the explosion that had destroyed its companion and seemed to be having trouble getting back on its feet. Knowing she only had the tiniest of moments to act and that an ammo explosion would do far more damage than she could ever hope to do herself, she lept smoothly to her feet and took aim at the lead drone's remaining missle. Or, at least, she aimed where his missle had been. Instead of firing on her the drone had fallen to the ground, pierced by a dozen laser bolts. She spun around just in time to see the other drone drop in a smoking heap behind her.
She looked around frantically, trying to find her savior, and finally looked up to see the skeletal wings of an orange and purple pterosaur cutting through the smoke. With a sigh of relief she called up to him. "Skydive! I need your help down here!"
Nightstalker returned her attention to the eagle as the newcomer spiraled down and shifted in a flash of orange light to land on his robot-mode feet beside her. The eagle had fallen unconscious during the battle, doubtless as a merciful escape from the pain of his injuries. She looked up at her tall, thin comrade with pleading desperation. "We have to get him back to the base. He'll die if he's not Reformatted soon!"
Skydive stood sternly over her, arms crossed. "Snarl is not going to be happy about you bringing another straggler into our base after he specifically forbade it, Nightstalker."
The feline Maximal sighed, letting her shoulders sag. "I know, I know. Primus, do I know. But we can't just leave him here to die!"
"You can't, maybe," Skydive replied coldly.
Her eyes narrowed. "If you're going to be a Maximal, you have to act like one," she scolded. Nightstalker stood challengingly. Her head only came halfway up his chest, but she stared up at him with all the determination her own lithe body could muster. "Maximals never leave others to die. Snarl will understand."
"But we know nothing about him!" he argued. "He could be an agent of Megatron, or a destructive force in his own right. We run a great risk taking him into our base."
"I knew nothing about you, save that you were a Predacon," she pointed out quietly, turning back to the fallen eagle. "And I still helped you." She looked back over her shoulder at him, eyes once again soft. "Please, Skydive?"
He sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Fine, fine. But if any harm comes of this, let it be on the record that I was completely against it."
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!" greeted a harsh but laughing voice as Nightstalker and Skydive struggled to carry the still-unconscious eagle through the doorway to the cavernous underground room the small group of survivors called home. Nightstalker turned to find two more of them, already done with their own patrol shifts, sitting nearby on a stack of metal scrap. It had been the short, stocky, and widely grinning Jawbreaker who had spoken.
The taller and decidedly more feminine Fireflight chided him as she looked up from cleaning her sword. "Don't kid around, he's seriously hurt!" Setting her weapon down gingerly beside her, she stood and approached the injured Maximal. Jawbreaker stood and followed her lead.
"Where's Snarl?" Nightstalker asked desperately as Fireflight joined her kneeling beside the eagle, the moth wings on her shoulders brushing the groud. "He's dying!"
"He's down that way, with Longhorn," she answered, gesturing to the long corridor that opened up halfway down the length of the room. "Skydive, go tell him to come out here. We can't risk moving him any more. Jawbreaker, go cover the entryway. All the time they spent in robot mode bringing him down here the Vehicons could have used to track them back here."
But the commotion itself was enough to bring their leader out into the main hall, with Longhorn close behind. "What's going on...?" he began, but before he could finish his query he saw the unconscious eagle on the floor and knew the answer. "Another one..." he whispered to himself as he rushed to join the group at the eagle's side.
Nightstalker looked up at him as he reached them. "I didn't have a choice, Snarl. He was attacked by Vehicons. He's dying."
Her words were unnecessary. Snarl could feel his Spark weakening within his battered body. But it was still strong enough to save. "Get back!" he growled urgently. Those tending to the eagle backed away, leaving Snarl room to kneel beside him. He laid his palms on the soaked, matted feathers and concentrated, channeling the Oracle's energy, the energy he himself had been Reformatted by, the energy he had channeled once before when they had found Jawbreaker in this same condition. Snarl roared as the power coursed through his body. The eagle's form was consumed by a bright, starkly white light that filled the room with a luminescence so intense the other Maximals were forced to shield their eyes. As the light began to fade, Snarl, his work finished, fell back into Fireflight's waiting arms, overcome with exhaustion. All the Maximals present looked up to see the Reformatted eagle. His form was basically as it had been, but his brown feathers were shot through with broad strokes of red and blue. Nightstalker broke the silence with a sigh of relief as she rose to welcome the new Maximal to their ranks.
And then, waking to find himself fully-functional and surrounded by strangers, the eagle bolted.
"Hey, wait!" Nightstalker called after him as he took off into the shadows of the corridor. She transformed to panther mode and raced after him.
Snarl struggled to his feet. "Nightstalker, don't!" He moved to transform into his own lion mode, but Fireflight stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"She's faster than you on a good day, Snarl. No way you're going to catch her now." He let out a frustrated growl. "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
"I hope you're right."
The cavernous hallway was nearly pitch-dark, but darkness was her specialty. The silence with which she padded through the tunnel was broken only by her occasional call. "Hello? I'm not going to hurt you!" But the only reply was her own echo. She stopped to sniff the stale air again. The young Maximal hadn't completely gotten the hang of tracking by scent, but she could tell she was still on the trail.
She took another step forward and was stopped by a weak cry from the mouth of an adjoining tunnel ahead of her. "Go away!"
Nightstalker froze, feline senses alert. "I just want to help you," she offered.
"You already helped me. Thank you. Now please, go away."
She sighed. "It's not safe to be out on your own. You've seen that now. Please, come back with me."
The eagle laughed bitterly. "You wouldn't ask that if you knew. You'd probably kill me yourself."
She began walking silently toward his voice. "What have you done that's so terrible? We're not a bunch of innocents. Whatever you've done, someone among us can probably top."
"You don't understand," he cried miserably. "This whole thing, Megatron's conquest of this world, it's all my fault... It's all because I failed!"
"How do you figure that?" She was almost at the mouth of the hallway, and he seemed too wrapped up in his own emotions to notice her voice growing closer. "How did your failure cause this?"
"I was one of the Magnaboss."
"The Magnaboss?" This was enough to make her pause for a moment. "The guardians of the Maximal Elders? You're...Silverbolt?" It did make sense, in a way. It explained why he already had an Earthen beast mode, for instance. The members of the Magnaboss had such changeforms as a matter of tradition, taken from the same database of genetic information that she had broken into to give beast forms to her teammates. "But we thought the Magnaboss had been killed!"
The same bitter laugh as before echoed through the corridor again. "So did Megatron. The virus left us not only unable to transform but unable to combine as well, and seperated in beast mode the Vehicon horde easily overtook us. We all failed to protect the Elders, but unlike Ironhide and Prowl I didn't even die trying."
"What happened to you? How did you survive?"
"I was caught in an explosion and thrown onto a rooftop several blocks away. I guess I was close enough to dead that the Vehicons ignored me to concentrate on their real target. Eventually my internal repair system brought me back online, but when I woke up..."
"I know," Nightstalker said solemnly as she reached the mouth of his hiding place, looking in to find him huddled against the wall, tears forming in the corners of his newly technorganic eyes. But this time he didn't try to run. "You saw what the rest of us saw. You saw that the planet had become...what it is now. A wasteland."
"Everyone was gone. Ironhide and Prowl, the Elders...my friends... Megatron had already began rebuilding the old Council building into his personal fortress. And there were so many drones..."
Nightstalker nodded. "And then you felt something drawing you here to Omitrax."
He finally looked up at her. "Yes. Just this overwhelming sense that there was something here I should find. That's why I came. You...you felt the same thing?"
"I was already here," she said, shaking her head. "Me and Skydive were both already living here when Megatron took over. I found him fighting some drones and helped him escape, and then we hid until Snarl found us. But some of the others came from different cities, drawn here by the same feeling."
"So this feeling...you think it's drawn me here to your team?"
"I know it has. There are forces trying to fight against Megatron, forces bigger than any of us, and all of us who managed to survive this, we're all in it together. Please come back with me."
He sighed. "Fine," he said. "If you'll have me, I'll join you. On one condition. On the way back, explain what in the Pit your friend did to heal me."
