Chapter Text
Mojave Desert
March 3, 1985. Two months after the Nemesis II sank.
The Mojave Triangle, as the humans called the area, was a place where people and vehicles entered, and rarely exited. A site that, only two months earlier, had been a battle zone between the humans and Cybertronians.
It was a pyrrhic victory at best.
The Decepticons failed to leave Earth, their ship plunging into the Atlantic Ocean, while the humans took heavy casualties at the hands of the exceedingly skilled Seekers. The only saving grace for the humans was the intervention of another group of Cybertronians: Autobots. They downed the Nemesis II, which meant the Decepticon threat was still on Earth.
The Decepticons were not really concerned about Earth; they had problems of their own. Serious problems.
Winter had fully set in; the Earth was reeling, suffering from the altered weather patterns seen during the previous fall. Though the source of the problem was removed, the damage was done. Spring would be late this year; meteorologists suspected that summer-like weather may not come at all and frosts might continue through the growing season. Already crops across the planet had suffered the unnatural weather and it was predicted that it would be like the 1816 anomaly, known as the year without summer, only not volcanic in origin.
Few humans understood what had happened, though plenty of rumours abounded. Those who might have known were silenced by either employment, bribe, or threat.
In the Mojave Desert, nestled between crumbling rocks and small drifts of snow, stood a large circular metal ring. Its steel, cold and grey, matching the darkening sky overhead, rose up from a platform of similar metal, with a track leading away from an opening in the side. Thick snakes of cables meandered from a battery bank, and another led to a ramshackle building, which stood nearby; the remnants of the former Nemesis II building site.
This was the spacebridge.
It was an experimental device, built with a hodgepodge of materials, both familiar and alien. Its purpose was to link Cybertron to Earth and make travel across light-years as quick and easy as walking to the convenience store. Its designer, Shockwave, was not present, not in person anyway.
Four Decepticons gathered by the ring, the fifth, a Seeker, was within an overhanging roof of sheet metal, operating the controls. A human car, modified for remote control, waited on the track by the open gate.
The Seeker pushed a small button, and the car rolled forward, slowly, until it entered the ring. The gate closed behind.
“Starscream, activate the spacebridge,” Megatron called.
This better work, Starscream thought grimly. Because if it doesn't...
If it failed, the Decepticons would be doomed.
“Activating: in four... three... two... one...” Starscream called out. His voice held a tired edge to it.
Without a moment to waste, he pressed the glowing red button, then staggered backwards, suddenly light-headed. Starscream drew a deep breath to compose himself, hoping Megatron did not see his momentary lapse of weakness.
Please work this time, he pleaded silently.
He turned to watch the ring with worried anticipation. Energy surged along the cable, sparking as it reached the ring. Then he gazed over at Megatron, who was fully focused on the bridge, oblivious to Soundwave, Skywarp, and Thundercracker next to him.
A deep, reverberating rumble shook the Earth, likely giving seismologists fits somewhere. Rocks began to tumble from the nearby cliffs to the ground, leaving deep gouges in the snow. Starscream glanced up, grimacing, hoping none would strike his flimsy shelter.
The air was filled with static, and St. Elmo's fire formed on the edges of rocks and even on the tips of his wings. A bizarre sensation, a prickling tingle, unpleasant to say the least. An alarming scent of ozone reached his olfactory senses. Would it overload again?
With a grinding groan, the outer ring of the circle shifted counter-clockwise to the inner ring's slow clockwise rotation. Then it stopped. As soon as it did, the sky brightened, and a pillar of light erupted from the centre of the circle, followed by a blast of wind like a tornado, drawing air, the car, and debris with it.
Then it was over.
A dead silence followed, only punctuated by a few small stones clattering to the ground.
Was this the one? Starscream wondered. This was the furthest they had gotten so far.
“Shockwave,” Megatron called over the radio, “report.”
“Test six failed,” came the calm reply.
Starscream groaned in dismay, his chin dropping to his chest in defeat. “I don't understand what the pit is wrong; it should work,” he hissed with frustration, glancing down at the datapad. His lips moved as he read silently.
“Starscream, did you use the correct coordinates?” Megatron demanded.
The Seeker silently bristled. “Of course I did,” Starscream snapped. “Do you think I'm stupid?” He exhaled sharply. “What we need is a pilot. Someone to steer it.”
“I agree,” Megatron replied, then turned to the Seeker. “Perhaps you should volunteer for that auspicious task.”
A cold jolt shot through his wings. He wasn't sure if Megatron was being serious or pulling his wing. It could be both, though Megatron was not prone to joking, and if he did joke, it was never actually funny.
The Seeker paused to glance over at the Decepticon leader. Megatron's expression remained serious. Starscream shook his head.
“No, this should work. The science behind it is sound. Something else is wrong.” He compared the calculations, and they were exactly as they should be. Frustrated, Starscream slammed his palms against the table-top and muttered a string of Vosian curses.
“Language, Starscream,” Megatron warned, picking out a few of the stronger phrases.
Megatron crossed the compound to Starscream. He picked up the datapad, then shoved the Seeker out of the way, to compare what was written to what his lieutenant had punched in.
Starscream clenched his fists, gritted his teeth and shot a searing glare at his leader. Megatron ignored it.
Then he began to wonder if it was an issue on their side. Crossed wires? A bad connection perhaps? He'd have to open it up and see, but if it was on their side only, then a test from Cybertron would help his chances at isolating the problem quickly, making the bridge viable. He wanted this to work badly. He wanted to see the familiar skies of home.
“Maybe we should open the bridge from Shockwave's end,” Starscream suggested. “He can use a drone or something as a pilot and send the mineral at the same time.”
“And risk losing it?” Megatron said, disgusted. “I think not.”
The Seeker scowled. “You seem fine with losing me.”
“You are expendable. The mineral is not,” he said with a dismissive shrug.
Starscream snorted as he turned to Megatron. “You keep saying I'm expendable. Yet I still live. You actually had an opportunity to be rid of me once and for all, but for some reason, you decided you needed me.”
“Actually, I don't need you; you're a liability.”
He clenched his teeth, wings quivering, his anger rapidly welling up. “Hah! You may believe your own lies, but I don't.” Starscream pressed the communicator. “Shockwave, send us the fragging mineral, along with a pilot.”
“Belay that order,” Megatron growled dangerously. He turned to the Seeker and thrust his fingers into the other's face. “Starscream, you are testing my patience.”
Starscream narrowed his optics, his mouth forming a thin angry line. “My Lord, if we don't get the mineral soon, we won't survive,” he hissed. “Is that what you want? For all of us to die and the Autobots to claim victory over our carcasses?”
Megatron exhaled sharply. He knew Starscream was right. “Send it, Shockwave,” he ordered.
“I will prep a delivery vehicle,” Shockwave replied.
With a quick movement, the Decepticon leader grabbed the insolent Seeker by the throat and lifted him off his feet, cutting off the energy flow to his brain. Starscream grasped his leader's fingers, trying to pull them from his throat.
“I'll let this little indiscretion fly because I know you intend well, but remember who the commander is around here, Starscream,” Megatron snarled, tightening his grip dangerously. The soft plates at the Seeker's throat buckled under the pressure. The Decepticon Leader drew him in closer, his voice a bare whisper. “And it's not you.” He gave Starscream a final violent shake, then flung him forcefully down.
Starscream stumbled, tumbling into a snowdrift which cushioned his fall, stunned. He lay on his back for a second before struggling to his feet, the wind knocked out of him. He drew a ragged breath as his fluids pounded back into his brain. Then, without a word, he returned to his station, rubbing his throat and trying to smooth the shifted, dented plates.
“Cargo vehicle is ready,” Shockwave's voice broke the uncomfortable silence that followed the small altercation.
“Starscream?”
“Everything is set,” the Seeker replied, his voice raspier than usual.
“We are ready to receive, Shockwave,” Megatron said.
Moments later, the circle activated. The inner and outer rings began to spin. The ground rumbled and then the beam of light tore from the sky. And, like before, there was silence. The entrance to the bridge opened up, and a small cargo vehicle rolled out and came to a wobbly stop. Its door opened, and a small terrified Decepticon, the size of Rumble, staggered out, then collapsed to the ground unconscious.
“Test seven successful,” Starscream announced. “At least from Cybertron to here.” He exhaled slowly, a small glimmer of hope, the needed element fresh and viable. He only hoped he would not be denied. It was something Megatron did, a way of exerting power. Then he smiled grimly. “And we now have a test pilot for the return trip.”
“The bridge will be inoperable for another six hours while its core charges; I'll have a larger shipment prepared in the meantime,” Shockwave said.
“Understood; we'll be ready,” Megatron replied.
Moments later, Thundercracker walked over to the cargo vehicle and looked inside. “It's not much, but we have enough of the element for about seven to twelve Decepticons,” he observed, then turned to the unconscious pilot, checking him over. “The pilot's fine, just stressed.” He carefully handed the symbiont to Soundwave, who carried him into the structure.
“I have equipment inside to refine the Cybertronium,” Starscream said, gesturing.
Megatron nodded. “Thundercracker, when Starscream has finished refining, you're to treat us,” he ordered. He considered denying Starscream, then thought against it; it would only breed more problems than it would solve. “When we get back to base, you're to treat Knockout, and the Constructicons, then go down the hierarchy from there.”
“There won't be enough for everyone,” Thundercracker lamented, holding up a canister.
“Shockwave is sending more shortly,” Starscream reassured. “We're almost there.” He took the canister from his wingmate, then strode into the building. There, he measured the contents into a reactor and flicked a switch. The reactor sprang to life, heating the mineral. “Now, while that cooks, I'll review my calculations.”
Starscream returned to the console, then opened the computer to look inside, a datapad with Shockwave's blueprints open in the other hand. Just to make sure, he would check his maths again to ensure he did have the right coordinates.
