Burnt Bridges: Prologue
Burnt Bridges: A Five-part saga from the planet Cybertron
Prologue: Love and War

It is over ten years since Polyhex fell to the Autobots. Things have changed.

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“Hey there.”
Chad Jones blinks away the haze of sleep and gazes into what in his humble opinion are the most beautiful eyes in the world; wide, deep almonds that drink up his soul.

Urgh. It is way too early in the day for poetry.
“Hey yourself.”
Misha Tykaro gently touches his nose, a smile playing over her lips.
“One of us should get up.”
“Whas time?”
“Nearly half nine. We’ve probably missed any chance of breakfast.”
“So?”

Chad reaches out to draw her closer. The bed creaks ominously. He winces.
“We need to book into a better motel.”
“We need a lot more money.”
“Yeah.”

For a while, they lie there, unwilling to break apart. At last, Chad sighs.
“I’ll go and see if there’s anything in the truck.”

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Chill air bites at his heals as he flings open the battered old news van’s tailgate. It isn’t an inspiring sight. For all their complaints about the motel, the room had been something of a luxury.

For about a year and a half, the twenty-three year olds had been crisscrossing the country, chasing UFO sightings for Misha’s editor and doing any odd job that would bring in cash. They were on the verge of poverty, only kept on the move by the fuel converter that nestled in the ancient vehicle’s chassis.

Chad looks sourly in its direction. It reminded him of things he would rather forget, of happy times gone forever. It was all their fault. And yet he’s reliant on their cast offs. He grits his teeth and starts rummaging through the junk. There were some cereals in here somewhere, he’s sure of it…

“Hello Kicker.”

He straightens up slowly and turns round as if he’s been engulfed in treacle. The straw haired girl stands a few feet away, coat done up tightly against the cold. She barely looks any older than when he last saw her.

“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh that’s nice. What happened to ‘hello Sally, what a nice surprise to see you again, how’s dad’?”
Brother and sister match glares.
“How did you find me?”
“Easy: I followed the trail of testosterone and exhaust fumes. Do you have any idea what you did to dad?”
“Why should I care? He never cared about me.”

Sally’s slap is every bit as hard as Chad remembers.
“You’re talking about the man who took on Starscream with his bare hands to save your worthless hide!”
“And you’re talking to the man who got beaten to a pulp by Demolisher because of a stupid old man’s crazy theories!”
“Man? You? Oh pu-leaze! A scared, selfish little brat who only cares about his own skin? People put their lives on the line for you, people died for you and how do you repay them? You run away because you got yourself into something you couldn’t handle and got hurt. Run away and play at second-rate news hound with that little –”

“Sally?”
Misha’s serene voice punctures the girl’s tirade. She’s walking towards them dragging a suitcase.
“What’s going on?”
“Yeah, Sal,” Kicker growls, “Why are you here? As if I can’t guess.”
Sally takes a deep breath.
“They need you help.”
“Go to hell.”
“It’s important you b$%*$(&! Really, really important! They need your powers –”
“Go. To. Hell.”

“Why won’t you – argh!” Sally stamps her foot. “God, you frelling stupid…” She looks him in the eye, suddenly cold and accusing. “Did you know Scattorshot’s dead?”
“What? How? When?” His shock makes him gabble.
“He was looking for you and he stumbled on the Battlechargers. Did you know he was looking for you? Once a month, like clockwork, he’d go out after you. He cared about you enough to leave the base, to get over his paranoia ‘cause he wanted you to be safe!”
“I never asked him to! I never asked anyone to care about me!” Chad lashes out, jarring his toes painfully on the van’s bumper. “I never asked anyone to die for me!”
“So what? They did care. They still do. Dad still does, even after all you’ve done. Can’t you see how much you owe them?”
“I don’t owe anyone anything! Get the hell out of my life!”

Angry, frustrated, Kicker storms away, not letting either Sally or Misha speak. He stamps across the parking lot, the desire to be alone unbearable.
“Kicker, can I speak to you?”
He freezes. That voice. He doesn’t move.
“Please.”

Owl-like, he turns his head, eyes fixing on a flashy-looking black sports car parker by a pick-up. It’s headlights blink.
“Please,” it repeats.
“Crosswise?”
“Yes, it’s me. The new shell looks good, doesn’t it?”
Kicker moves closer, wary.
“It’s…different. The last time I saw you, you were a Datsun.”
“Well, you’ve got to move with the times.” He pauses. “We really do need your help. And it is important.”
“I told you when I left, I don’t want any more to do with you.” Kicker leans wearily against the pick-up. “It was fun at first…driving about, that exosuit, winding…Scattorshot up…” A lump in his throat makes him stop and swallow. “But things got too dangerous.”

“It was war. You shouldn’t have been involved. But when a genetic abnormality means you can sense energon and see through our disguises…well, things got out of hand. And I’m afraid we need your abilities again.”
“Forget it! I may be a freak but I’m my own freak. I’m fed up with having my life planned for me by machines. And don’t try to make me feel guilty about Scattorshot. I didn’t ask him…to…come after us…”
He looks at his feet, venom exhausted by repetition.

“Did he…did he take it hard when he couldn’t find us?”
“‘Couldn’t find’ you?” Crosswise chuckles sadly. “Kicker, Scattorshot didn’t go out looking for you. He knew where you were. He went to make sure you were safe.”
“And…he never told dad where I was?”
“He thought you had a right to choose how to live your life. He wouldn’t betray you, even to your father…I think it upset him when Dr Jones…well, their friendship became very strained.”

“Oh God.” Kicker takes his head in his hands. “Why…why does…”
He can’t find the words. Faces spin through his mind, a long list of the dead. Alexis, that mad eco-activist. Sparkplug, the Minicon who’d been set as his bodyguard. Carlos, the computer programmer who’d been caught up in Starscream’s invasion plans. The nameless hundreds killed in the Battlechargers’ attempt to kidnap him and his father. Scattorshot.

“How do you do it Crosswise?”
“Pardon?”
“How do you find just the right thing to say at just the right time?” He looks up and pushes himself away from the truck. “You wouldn’t think a giant alien robot could do that.”
“Err…”
“I’ll help you, damnit, I’ll do whatever it is you want! I’ll help save the world again!”
If it is possible for a car to look relieved, Crosswise does.
“Thank you.”

“I’ll have to speak to Misha. I don’t think either of us will want to stay in the Arc…”
“You can stay with me if you want.”
Sally and Misha walk over, both wearing serious but calm expressions. Sally continues.
“Dad’s out of town with work on Project C. I’m looking after the house. If you don’t mind sharing your old room…”
“Sal…thanks…I’m sorry I acted –”
“Save if for dad.”

Kicker looks at his feet again.
“Yeah…look, Misha…I’ve agreed to help…but…”
“But what? I’m going with you. End of story. Hello Crosswise.”
“Hello Misha. It’s good to see you again.”
“Thanks for talking to us this time and not having Tagline imitate the van and kidnap us like last time.”
“You’re welcome. The again, that wouldn’t have worked a second time anyway.”

Misha puts a hand on Kicker’s shoulder.
“You OK?”
“Not really.” He squeezes her fingers then flops down on Crosswise’s hood.
“Alright, Cross’, what’s going on? Why do you need me this time?”
The Autobot considers carefully before speaking.

“It’s to do with a key. Well, actually, it’s to do with six keys…”



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