Anxiety: Chapter 4, a Transformers fic

Anxiety, Chapter 4. In which Scourge goes off to find Cyclonus.

Back on Chaar, lava swirled and tempers were high as one of the Sweeps gave his earth-hourly report on Cyclonus's whereabouts. Or rather, his unknown whereabouts.

Galvatron's scowl grew heavier as the Sweep stuttered. “Th-there's still no trace of C-Cyclonus. P-perhaps it might be better for the troops to, uh, um... attempt a scouting mission of that planet? The planet that he landed on, I mean. We should do that and rescue him when h-he's located.”

Without even stopping to administer a brutal beating (although the Sweep was pushed roughly out of the way so that he could make eye contact with Scourge), Galvatron barked, “Gather up your Sweeps and find the Combaticons! I want him back before the stellar cycle is over!”

Once they had saluted and were out of earshot, the Sweep who had reported their supposed 'failure' muttered: “Why is Cyclonus so important, anyway? Even if anything happens to him, can't Galvatron just replace him with you?”

It wasn't really something Scourge had thought about. He couldn't imagine being what Cyclonus was – a diplomatic Decepticon who could stay loyal to his leader while appealing to the remainder of the troops. It was something Scourge admired him for, really. Moreover, he had never imagined a life without Cyclonus, without their little jokes and disagreements. They were more than fellow soldiers fighting for a greater cause; they were friends. Besides, if Cyclonus was gone, wouldn't that mean double the beatings for him?

“Well... it's probably not nearly so simple,” He finally answered. “It's like this. Galvatron can't lose Cyclonus, because Cyclonus is a born supporter. He has the enthusiasm. I have significantly less than he does. And he's like a mouthpiece for everything Lord Galvatron wishes to communicate to us, without all the unnecessary violence. I suppose Galvatron needs Cyclonus to keep us in check.”

“... Hmm.” The Sweep looked like he was deep in thought. “That's all?”

“It's more important than that. I guess Cyclonus's devotion is something we'll never understand either.”

As though the Sweep had a brainwave, his optics lit up. “And it's not like Galvatron is a bad-looking 'Con either.”

Scourge slapped the Sweep over the head. “We will not rumour-monger any further. Assemble the remainder of the Sweeps and I'll find the Combaticons.”

*

A few moments later, a party made of Scourge, the Sweeps, and the Combaticons hovered at a safe distance away from Enk, which they stared at cautiously. Scourge recalled that there had been a strange green mist covering the planet the last time they were here, the same mist that had turned into a twister and sucked Cyclonus down. He had since developed a theory that the mist was in fact, a sort of gaseous shield to protect the citizens of Enk from enemy troops and forces, which led Scourge to wonder if Cyclonus had been captured or whether he had been terminated.

He certainly hoped that it was not the latter.

“Come on, let's go.”

“Shouldn't we shut down their defense systems first?” Onslaught asked with warning in his voice, holding the other Combaticons back.

“Oh, trust me... I think it's already been done.” Without another word, Scourge swooped downwards, the Sweeps following. With a sigh and a mumble of: “Don't blame me if you get turned to scrap,” from Onslaught, so did the Combaticons.

There was little they could do to prevent a sighting by any of the world's inhabitants, but it wasn't as though subtlety was their strong point anyway. Strange-looking beings in the square below were staring at them, some pointing, some looking slightly fearful. Landing in what seemed to be the capital, judging by the number of people that kept their distance from them, Scourge spoke.

“I am looking for one of our kind. Surely one of you must have seen him? He looks nothing like any of you.”

Silence, and as Scourge bent down to take a closer look at the beings, he realised none of them were capable of lying.

“Then tell me, what do you do with your intruders? Do you jail them? Terminate them? Because if you terminate them...” He trailed off, drawing his blaster, accentuating the point he was trying to make. But of course, these beings were smart. One of them was pushed out of the crowd in front of the Decepticon party, clearly frightened in the presence of alien beings that were prepared to use lethal force to get their answers.

“I-if it's one of your kind that you're looking for... you should probably try the labs, here in the city. They've probably taken him in for, uh, testing. I don't think your friend is dead though!” He squeaked suddenly, cowering slightly as Scourge's blaster hand made a sudden movement, although it was just so he could sheathe his weapon, laughing.

“Relax. We don't have any intention of harming you. Do we?” Scourge turned to his Decepticon party. They all smirked.

“Not yet,” said Brawl.

“As long as you,” Scourge turned towards the Enkian who had answered their question. “Do as we say. Lead us to these labs.”

The Enkian cast a worried look at his peers, who nodded, some of them waving him on frantically. He also realised that although the robot that seemed to be the leader of the group had put his weapon away, the rest of them had drawn theirs. With a whimper, he did as he was told.

*

The guards had been a pushover, not to mention that they were easily (and amusingly) confused by the Decepticon's sudden transformations into their alternate modes. Not to mention the sheer size of Bruticus almost immediately made them drop their weapons and surrender. “Pathetic excuses for 'guards', wouldn't you agree?” sneered Swindle as he pushed the guard they had taken prisoner forwards, forcing him to speed up his pace.

“I doubt any of them have had formal training.” The Enkian citizen they had used to reach the labs had turned tail as soon as Scourge pulled the trigger on his blaster. Of course, they let him run: “See if anyone's brave enough to retaliate against us,” Onslaught grinned menacingly.

The guard had eventually stumbled to the room where they would apparently find Cyclonus – a testing lab on the eighth floor of the complex. Shoving him roughly out of the way, the Decepticons walked in. It must have been after-hours or a break time, as there was no-one present. No life-forms, except for one that lay on the table, completely immobilised.

Scourge shouldn't have been surprised to see Cyclonus strapped to the table, but something about the scene chilled his circuitry to the spark. Various painful-looking devices lay scattered on a tray beside him along with towers of metal discs.

“Cyclonus!” he rushed over, waving his hand to signal to the Combaticons that they should stay by the entrance of the room and keep watch. Cyclonus emitted a low buzzing noise as Scourge shook him. He noticed that there were wires plugged into him that led to a large generator of some sort. Ripping them out hastily, he deduced that whoever was 'researching' him had been overloading the Decepticon's circuitry, keeping him in a semi-conscious state. The nerve of them... I swear that by the time I'm through with them, they'll-

“S... Scourge?”

Thank Unicron, Scourge thought, nodding in affirmative. “It's me, Cyclonus. We've got you covered.” Seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a large block of energon. “I thought you'd need this.” Watching Cyclonus nod somewhat eagerly and devour the energon, Scourge felt something that seemed to be pride well up inside of him. Galvatron was right. He really is strong.

After energising himself and testing to see that the Enkians hadn't tampered with him any further, he was back to his old self again. “Lord Galvatron will not be pleased with my prolonged absence. We must return immediately!”

“Whoa, hang on.” Scourge eyed him with concern. “I know you're eager to get back to Galvatron, but what did they do to you? What happened after that tornado got you?”

“I...” Cyclonus rubbed his previously injured shoulder thoughtfully. “I crash-landed and was found by one of the denizens of this planet. His attempts at restoring me to my fully-powered state were feeble, so I ordered him to bring me here.”

“The slag! He knew this would happen to you!” Bruticus growled menacingly, slamming his fist into his open palm.

“I doubt he did. His cranial chamber seemed fairly empty.” For the first time since he had woken up, Cyclonus smirked a little and gestured for one of the Sweeps to hand him his confiscated blaster. “Before we leave... I want to pay them back.” With that, Cyclonus fired several shots into different areas of the lab, destroying several machines and pieces of equipment. Laughing and nodding at his fellow Decepticons, they left the facility, debris in a trail behind them.

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Anxiety: Chapter 3, a Transformers fic

I swear this shit is still rolling. I kind of forgot about it.

---

Foll's craft, which Cyclonus had somehow assumed would be a highly advanced and comfortable vehicle, was far smaller than expected. It wouldn't have mattered if it was of a decent size anyway; Foll was still nervous about what the other Enkians would think of him if they knew he was keeping a stranger of a different species without alerting the proper authorities. Which is what I'm doing now, right? Foll glanced back at Cyclonus, who was lying down with his legs curled beneath him, a pile of brown cloth covering him. He hoped the scientists would allow them to get through but more importantly, hoped that Cyclonus wouldn't be angered further. There was something menacing about him, something that Foll could not put his finger on. Perhaps this was only what he believed due to the fact that he knew nothing about this entity, with his desire to leave the planet as soon as possible.

Foll cleared his vocal chords, trying not to show that he was anxious as he asked, “Tell me about yourself, Cyclonus. Who are you? What are you?”

Under the sheets, Cyclonus issued a curt reply. “Who I am and what my purpose is isn't any of your concern, Enkian.”

Of course, an answer like that was to be expected. But the youth pressed on. “When I found you and tried to see if I could do anything, I noticed you had some transforming components. They were the ones that were badly damaged when you fell. Could it be that you are a Transformer?”

“Foolish boy, how could you not realise?” Cyclonus muttered. “Do you know of any other species that can do what I can, if I were in my usual condition?”

“Well, yes, there are the -”

“Rhetoric, Enkian, mere rhetoric.”

The Decepticon's reluctance to speak sent Foll into an awkward, almost bashful silence as he considered whether to continue speaking to him. Using the touchscreen interface to control the craft as they travelled down the ash-grey mountainside, he decided to take a very different line of conversation. “You know, Enk is a giant crater more than anything. I remember when I was a kid, they always told us stories about the creation of our planet. Apparently our planet actually started out as an uncharted moon that happened to be in the path of a rather large meteor one day, and, well... here's a crater!” He laughed a laugh that seemed to rattle around inside him, which made Cyclonus wonder if was in fact completely hollow, save for a few essential processors. And even then, Cyclonus had to wonder just how big they were. The Enkian didn't seem too smart.

“Our ancestor was supposedly a scientist who fled persecution for doing some strange experiments. He landed here and found that the energy sources were quite rich, but he got kinda lonely... so he started building us. And then we built this city. You can't see it from under that pile, but it's actually quite beautiful...” He paused. “Are you lonely?”

“Do I seem the type to be lonely?” Cyclonus snapped.

“Hm, I guess not. But you seem very focused on getting back to your leader, whoever he is. He must be very important to you. I wish I had someone who was that important to me.”

He obviously has no idea that I'm a Decepticon, or who Galvatron is. By Unicron, when I get back to Chaar, Galvatron will thrash me within an inch of my neurosystems. Cyclonus shifted slightly, clenching and unclenching his fist unconsciously. But at least I'll be there.

Deep in thought, he hadn't realised that the craft had stopped until Foll exclaimed “We're here. Do I need to show you my permit?” The question wasn't directed towards Cyclonus, but he had to admit that he had been momentarily confused. Unable to hear what the other party had to say, he caught Foll's side of the dialogue: “I need some repairs done. No, it's quite important. No look, it's not that I'm incompetent, it's just that he's, uh... quite different. Yes, I've tried. Tell your scientists that they can examine him. Yes, thank you.” The craft began moving again and he said, “You can remove those sheets now.”

Glad to be rid of the weight on his body, Cyclonus sat up, noticing that they were in a tunnel now. “We're going to the central chamber. I've never been inside before, so I'm not sure what it'll be like. It'll be an experience for both of us!” Foll chuckled weakly, hoping Cyclonus would be amused. Of course, he was wrong. The silence, awkward as it was, was cut when Foll drove into a large, bright hall. In the center was a huge machine that looked like a generator, which was pointed upwards and jutted out through the roof. Several disproportionate beings, much like Foll, scurried about. Some were grouped around the machine, obviously studying the way it worked. “Stay here,” whispered Foll as he stepped out of the craft. They all looked up at Foll when a voice boomed: “Ah, you must be the youngster with the specimen.”

Cyclonus saw the being who spoke; he was an Enkian, of course, but looked far older than Foll and somehow, had a more mature air about him. Not that that is too hard to have.

“Dr. Gillam.” The older Enkian extended a tiny, fine hand to Foll, who took it in his in a gesture of welcome. “I must thank you for offering to let us look at this being, whatever he is. I trust he is sentient?”

“Yes. He crashed outside my house a mere three cycles ago. I tried patching him up as best I could, but I failed. His circuitry is too complex for my skill, so I thought I would bring him to you.”

“I see.” Gilliam rubbed the metal protrusion on his head which was supposed to represent hair. “May I see this being?”

“Of course. Cyclonus, if you please.” Foll grinned, maybe slightly embarrassed, at Gilliam. “He’s rather, uh, bad tempered.”

“Oh? I see.”

But when Cyclonus pushed the door of Foll’s craft open and emerged, Gilliam’s good-natured smile faded. “You, youngster. Where and when did you find this being again?”

“No more than three cycles ago, doctor. He crashed outside my house... is there a problem?”

“My team and I have been looking for this specimen. For quite some time now, actually.”

A buzz went through Cyclonus’s processor, one that could only mean that this situation would have bad results. Sure enough, as soon as the scientist had finished speaking, three Enkians moved suddenly towards him. He leapt high into the air reflexively, forgetting for a moment that he was straining his wounds and groaning as the pain hit. The Enkians noticed this quickly and immediately formed a tight circle around him, making effective use of his malady.

Foll, looking wildly confused, spluttered: “Wait! What seems to be the problem!? Surely you don’t mean to...”

Gilliam’s eyes flashed as he and his assistants eyed the Decepticon. “If you mean killing him, youngster, of course not. We merely mean to... tame him. Of course, if he cooperates, it will be much simpler.”

“And of course, if you try, you’ll never succeed!” With that, Cyclonus fired blasts in rapid succession at two of the Enkians, sending them stumbling backwards.

Amidst the confusion, Gilliam yelled, “Which fool forgot to disarm him?! I’ll make sure he’s reprimanded accordingly!” For someone whose joints were rusting, the doctor could move quite quickly. He was bolting towards what looked like an emergency arms cabinet and Cyclonus started in his direction, only to be surrounded by a new batch of Enkians. These aren’t even soldiers – they’re scientists, he thought, as he kicked his leg out at them. Hoping that Gilliam would still be fumbling to retrieve a weapon, Cyclonus aimed his blaster while waiting for his attackers to crumple to the ground, a small smirk gracing his features – only to see that the Enkian was already pointing a cannon straight at him. He heard the whir of the barrel charging, saw it glow bright orange and dove to the left just as the trigger was pulled.

It was more a reflex than an action he had thought through. He immediately regretted not thinking about it more carefully earlier as he slammed into a console, depressing a few of the buttons. His blaster flew out of his hands, clattering to the ground a fair way away. He lay dazed on the ground for a few seconds before trying to scramble into a more strategic position that he could take against Gilliam, who was marching steadily towards him.

“Come now, Cyclonus. Look at your wounds, they’ve all opened up. If this continues, who knows what will happen? You don’t want that youngster’s work to be for nothing, do you?” He jerked his head in the direction of Foll, who was cowering in the corner of the lab. “What am I going to do if my only specimen is... imperfect? Besides, what reason do you have for resisting?”

Cyclonus, who had started clutching at his injured shoulder without knowing, snarled suddenly. “I am part of the glorious Decepticon empire. My priority is to get back to my master. It is my goal. But none of you glitchheads – “ He glanced at all the parties in the room as he said this, his optics lingering longest on Foll, “Will ever understand this!” With that, he propped himself up on his hands, lunging forward to deliver a high kick to Gilliam’s hands...

... But the Enkian was too fast for him this time. He was suddenly enveloped in an orange beam that merely tingled at first, but then began an assault upon his senses. He screamed out in pain as he was lifted high up into the air, still being controlled by the cannon. “Of course none of us will understand. We’re scientists... scientists who have a far more simple goal – to gain all the knowledge in the world. I won’t have you resist me.” Gilliam smiled as he gently lowered the agonised Decepticon onto a large table, reinforced steel restraints immediately clapping around him.

“Don’t worry; this won’t cause any permanent damage.”

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