Burnt Bridges: Part 2: Lost Treasure (Side 2)
“It’s a tunnel.”
“Obviously.”
“A dark, rocky tunnel.”
“Clearly.”
“Cold too.”
I sigh and reach for my chest plate.
“There.” The glowb hovers away from my hand, throwing out soft blue light. “What would you do without me?”
“This.”

Reverb’s overhead lamps nearly blow out my optics.
“Cut it out!”
“Oh, sorry. Have I damaged your pwecious wikle eyessies?”
“Get slammed.”
He transforms, the arrays vanishing into his feet.
“Nag, nag, nag. Hn. Good job that chute curved, else we’d all be spare parts. Where’re the others?”
“O’ ye of the shuttered sensors. Over there, eagle-eye.”

With a groan, Kicker clambers to the floor.
“Why is it that I always end up like a bug on a windshield around you lot?”
Sixspeed unfolds and shrugs.
“Plain bad luck?”
“Probably. What do we do now?”

I point to the darkness beyond our little sphere of light.
“That looks like the only way to go. Unless anyone wants to go back the way we came?”
“No thanks.”
“Right then. I’ll lead the way.”

“Good.”
My audios must be malfunctioning. That was Reverb.
“You…what?”
He leers back.
“If there’s anything dangerous down here –”
“Oh, I get it. It’ll get me and you can run away while it’s busy.”
“No. It’ll get you and I can get it while it’s busy.”

Kicker mutters something that sounds like “frifingobots” under his breath and storms away. Sixspeed wanders after him, whistling. I look first at them, then at Reverb.
“Hmph!”
“Hah!”
We follow, trying to out-stamp each other.

The glowb and our sensors reveal a tunnel like a hundred cathedrals put end to end – organic looking arches of dark grey rock running gently downwards and veering to the left. I reckon you could drive a couple of tanks side by side through here and it must be at least twice Evac’s height. The air is still and smells faintly of ozone. Our feet aside, it’s silent as well – not even a creepy drip-drip or the moan of a lost soul.

In fact, it’s boring. It’s just a rock tunnel with bumpy walls and an unbroken floor.

“You know, this place is not natural.”
“Well done, bright spark.”
More sarcasm from the lowest form of wit.
“I don’t know.” Kicker rubs the back of his neck. “It reminds me of a rib cage or something like that…like the inside of a whale.”
“Ever been inside a whale?”
Sixspeed sounds genuinely curious.
“No, but…the way everything curves around to that grove in the roof…it’s like a spine and loads of ribs.”
The green speedster nods sagely.
“Of course, if we’re following a spinal column, we should end up at a brain.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Assuming we’re not going down something’s throat and heading for its stomach.”
“That isn’t.”

Ahead the tunnel makes a sharp right.
“Anybody bring an auto-scout?” I ask.
“Don’t tell me a big tough Autobot like you is scared.”
“No, no…I’m just being cautious, Kicker. Surely you’ve been around us long enough to know there are things in this universe that can eat Minicons for lunch. I’m not scared, just careful.”
“As the yellow jelly said to the limpet mine.”

Now that was particularly weird even for Sixspeed.

He and Kicker go round the bend and out of sight.
“Typical! Charging ahead without making sure it’s safe!”
“Huh. That right, turn-tail?”
I treat Reverb to my most sickly sweet smile.”
“I see you’re bringing up the rear, greatest font of courage.”
“Only ‘cause you’re in the way!”
As one, we make a dash for the corner.

And like the others before us, come to a stunned halt.

‘Room’ utterly fails to describe the area. Even ‘cavern’ is understating it. A gigantic, circular…space. And inverted dome with rough steps carved into the walls, it’s a lot like the amphitheatre at Goldmount, the same sort of shape only much, much bigger. And on each of the steps…well, tiers, galleries, stand single rows of silvery, egg-like objects, all looking completely out of place against the rock.

This isn’t something you can just take in. Fifteen seconds of mouthing and staring pass before I push my way into the chamber. None of my sensors register anything other than rock and air – the ozone is slightly stronger and seems to be drifting out of these ball things.

Speaking of which…

They read almost like Cybertronian alloys but there’s something else, something I don’t recognise. I pull myself up onto the first ‘step’ and examine the nearest ‘egg’. It stands a little shorter than me and, now I’m closer, I can see that the top is open as if someone’s sliced across it.

“It’s like a cauldron.”
Kicker’s climbed after me.
“Cauldron?”
“You know, witches and potions. It’s like that – a big cooking pot.”

“But this isn’t a magic potion.”
Sixspeed and Reverb have got up as well and are leaning over the next cauldron along. ‘Speed has lifted himself up to the rim and is in danger of going head first into it.
“Some kind of liquid though…traces of energon and hydrogen…um…waitaminute!. There’s something in here…I think I can just about reach it…”

His arm vanishes into the pot before we can stop him.
“Is this a good idea?” Kicker asks me.
“I’m not sure. Probably not.”
“Oh. Never lets that stop him does he?”

“Got it!”
He lands back on the rock, a familiar looking transparent disc clutched to his chest. I catch a glimpse of a green mask embossed on it, with fangs and pointed ears.

LEAVE.

The voice is almost loud enough to shatter circuits.
LEAVE. YOU ARE NOT NEEDED.
It doesn’t shake the cavern or the cauldrons. It just shakes us, bypassing our audios and going straight for our CPUs.

Now, I’m not a mech who gets shocked easily. Decepticon bases, no problem. Living ghosts, a bit unnerving. Massive hidden amphitheatres, slightly surprising.

But seeing the light and shadows created by my glowb suddenly twist and curve about like a nest of snakes is…very, very disturbing.
YOU ARE NOT WELCOME.
The whole place seems to come alive. Every glint, every reflected gleam, every shade of grey, every patch of pitch-blackness starts to writhe. I think my optics have gone haywire but they haven’t – it’s reality that’s got crazy.

Then everything snaps back into place. Leaving Optimus Prime floating in front of us.

Yep, you heard me, though I’m obviously seeing things. It’s our leader, in full armour with wings spread, battle mask up and guns in place.

Only, he’s been carved out of solid gold.

Like I said – I’m clearly seeing things.

“YOU WILL LEAVE.”
The voice is a bit more bearable now – and comes from Goldimus here.
“Now, wait an astrosecond –” I hold up my hands. “We came here to find the Spatial Key to Vector Sigma. We need –”
“IT IS SAFE IN OUR CARE. LEAVE.”
“But you don’t understand! We’re trying to stop the Decepticons from –”
“WE HAVE PROTECTED THE KEY FOR TIME IMMEMORIAL. WE BROUGHT IT HERE WHEN CYBERTRON FELL. IT IS SAFE.”

I’ve just realised why this guy looks so weird. I mean, weirder than the obvious. His gleaming armour isn’t reflecting his surroundings. I can see distorted views of blue pillars –

I really should be concentrating here.
“YOUR GOALS CAN HAVE NO BEARING ON US,” he – it? – continues, “YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED.”
“We…look, who are you? You’re not Optimus Prime, I know that much. Are you…alien? Some kind of projection? A survivor from, you know, before?”
“WE ARE USING AN IMAGE OF APPROPRIATE AUTHORITY. WE PROTECT THE KEY. THAT IS ALL THE KNOWLEDGE YOU REQUIRE.”
“Sorry but tha –”
Something black and white blurs past, scrambling up and around the galleries.
“Kicker?!”
“Up here…to the right…closer…closer…”
I can just hear his mutters as he races away.
“STOP,” the image orders, drifting lazily after the boy, “CEASE.”
“I can sense it, Jolt! I can feel it! It’s nearby…close…”
The human ignores the golden creature, climbing further and further away.

I leap after him, ramping up the old leg motivators.
“Slow down! Kicker, slow down! We have to –”
“STOP. WE WILL NOT ALLOW THIS.”
“Look, please –”
“Shut up! I’m nearly there!”
“Kicker, please –”

“Decepticons!”
Whirling and grabbing my gun, I curse myself for not watching the entrance. Not that it would have done use any good…

Soundwave glides in, anti-grav silent. From his wing tip, Laserbeak leers evilly. Scuttling along beside them is a strange vehicle carried on four pointed legs. The cannon on it’s back gives it away as the watchful dwarf. My non-visual sensors wonder what I’m worried about: according to them, there’s only a faint heat signature and a bit of air disturbance.

If only.

“Stop right there!” I aim my electron-pistol at Soundwave’s face. “Get out or we give you a terminal re-moulding.”
My voice is a threatening as I can make it – a real tough as Terrocons growl. It’s just a shame that the size difference between me and, well, Laserbeak, never mind Soundwave keeps forcing its way to the front of my mind attached to a small file containing the words ‘Run for your life’. Not that that really worries me, I’m just concerned that our chances of victory may be a bit low.

Luckily…um, I mean…anyway, Soundwave’s attention goes straight to the alien image. It drifts towards him, having about-faced without actually turning.
“BEGONE. LEAVE.”
The image changes, growing spines and horns and several tons of sharp edges.

Soundwave’s only reaction is to raise a double-barrelled rifle bigger than me. Beams of multicoloured light punch through the illusion’s body and it dissolves into thousands of coiling ribbons, creating a nice but useless glittering cloud. That dealt with, the Decepticon advances on us.

Now, I know you’ll be thinking that because we’re all Minicons, our weapons aren’t going to be up to much, us being knee high to a Constructicon and all that.

Mine can put a 30cm hole through an inch of solid steel. Sixspeed’s reduction ray can rip objects apart at a molecular level. Reverb’s vibro-cannon can do to armour what an industrial shredder does to tissue paper.

Not only does Soundwave ignore the barrage but our shots seem to disappear before they get anywhere near him.

“Oh hell,” Kicker sums up.
I try to think. There must be a way to –

SIZZZZZZZVVVVVVVAAAAAARRRRRROOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM

Two things burst out of the remains of the image, swirling balls of matter trailing creepers of lightning. They slam into Soundwave’s chest and send him flying backwards. Laserbeak shrieks and tears himself from his master’s shoulders. He flies straight into Reverb’s barrage…which is such a shame because he isn’t as invulnerable as the bigger ‘con.

“Bye bye birdie,” the blue lunk gloats.
I ignore him.
“Kicker, the Spatial Key?”
“Up there.”
He points and climbs up the next level, me on his heels.
“Um…this…no, the one.”
The cauldron is no different from any of the others.
“Sure?”
“No…yes…I don’t…yes, yes, I’m sure!”
“Right.”

I reach into the gloopy grey stuff.

Red mech, masked, heli-bladed
Yellow mech, same shape, flying over a freeway
Weird mech, like he’s a Lego brick or something
Old-looking Earth car, some kind of sword
A human with electricity flowing over her skin

I yank my hands out and the visions stop.
“What is it?”
My voice isn’t working. I try to answer and speak static. I try again.
“N-nothing. I…it’s empty. There’s no Key in there!”
“What? But there must be!”
“I –”

I don’t see the foot but I damn well feel it. The ranks of metal balls whip past as I fly (unwillingly) across the cavern. Landing hurts.

Struggling through a haze of pain, I hear a familiar and hated voice.
“I thought you were about the right shape for that.” Starscream snatches Kicker from the steps and lands beside the ‘Key’s’ cauldron. “Hello, little human. Once more, it appears your powers have been of use.” His shifty little optics fix on Reverb and Sixspeed. “So the Autobots have sent their little drudges to do the dirty work. How wonderfully hypocritical.”
“We’re here ‘cause we want to stop slag like you, slimeball!”
Honestly, Reverb’s getting more and more unoriginal with every passing dayyaarrrgh!

I’m sure that bit shouldn’t move like that…owwwweee! I really, really hurt!

“Back off little mech,” The Decepticon brandishes his captive like a voodoo doll. “I believe there’s something in that famed ‘Autobot Code’ about safeguarding innocents.” It’s clear that Kicker can barely breath. “Join your comrade over there or I may have to get my hands dirty.”
Grudging and growling, they obey. Sixspeed helps me stand.
“And no tiresome shouts of ‘you’ll never get away with this’ or ‘you don’t stand a chance’, please. Now, Kicker, my young friend…this was the right capsule, wasn’t it? And yet, it is indeed empty. Hmm…still dimensionally removed, perhaps? If so, why this chamber. And Soundwave did say that the aliens brought it here after is was changed by…oh…hah!” Starscream’s mouth curves into its favourite smirk. “If the Matrix can be the Master Key, there is no reason the Spatial couldn’t have been similarly transformed, retaining its powers in a new, if impractical form. And thus, it is mine.”
He reaches out.

“Is that a good idea?”
Screamer looks round at Sixspeed.
“You said something?”
“Those guardians did a number on Soundwave and they didn’t want anyone to touch the Key. Aren’t you a bit in danger of getting in over your head?”
“An interesting bit of faux-reasoning, although ‘getting in over your head’ was a touch on the ironic side.” The smirk widens. “However, it is flawed by one immutable fact.”
THUMP.
“We came prepared.”
The above sound was that of a large glass cube landing nearby. A cube that looks as if it’s made entirely of prisms. Two flicker of light keep flitting through them, going round and round in endless circles. Soundwave floats quietly out of the shadows.

“I doubt those particular guardians will be a problem. Forewarned is forearmed.”
Starscream bends to lift the key.

Not shifting his optics from the Decepticons, Sixspeed waggles his right arm. A shimmer of blue appears above the lurid paint. Me and Reverb have a microsecond to brace ourselves.

Our friend erupts.

The shimmer is suddenly covering his entire body and, even more suddenly, he’s everywhere. There are Sixspeed’s running, jumping, bouncing, flying, walking and generally moving across the whole chamber. Some charge at Soundwave. Others head for Starscream. Most just mill. Each one looks and scans solid. No two travel at the same speed. There’s absolutely no way of spotting the real mech or where he’s going.

And people used to think it was impressive when he could only make six of the things!

Naturally, I know where he’s going.
“Throw me to Kicker!”
Without hesitating, Reverb grabs my legs and lets swing. I hate this guy’s guts. But I trust him with my life and to do the right thing.

I soar over the hordes of Sixspeeds, going far faster than I usually fly. Starscream doesn’t see me coming. He’s too busy trying to work out if he’s being mobbed by clones or mirages. My rotors, going full power, slice across his wrist. They don’t go through: his armour’s far too thick, but the damage is enough.
“Yargh!”
With that yell, he drops Kicker. The exo-suit absorbs the shock of the fall but the boy’s left a groaning heap.
“Why you little –”
I finish transforming and dodge out of Screamer’s way, zipping under the energo blade that snaps out of his rifle.

By now, Reverb’s reactive-camo is on max. He’s practically invisible and should be heading for Soundwave.

We have a plan. Of course, we have. I just hope it’s the same one that I think it is.

Starscream’s next screech is the loudest yet – he’s just noticed that the Key is halfway to the door, carried along by the very real Sixspeed. A blur in the air rams Soundwave’s shins and there’s an almighty crunch. I fly across the enraged Seeker’s path, trying to give Kicker and Sixspeed time to get away.

It nearly works. We nearly get away with it. We nearly swipe the Spatial Key and escape, run to the surface and win the day. In a perfect universe, we would have.

This universe is obviously not perfect. Reverb fades back to blue, front end a crumpled mess. A lucky blow swats me into the floor next to the still slumped Kicker. And that damn four legged cannon thing we’d all forgotten about rears up in the archway. All escape is blocked. We’re trapped and, well, frankly, finished.

Oh yeah. And then the roof explodes.

It would be nice to think that it’s the shuttle blasting in to rescue us all. That Evac is swooping down to clobber the Deceps. That it’ll all be all right. Which just proves how much that impact screwed up my systems.

The ship silhouetted against the Bermuda sky is far too pointed, angular and teethed. And Evac does not swoop. He falls, back armour and wings burning from multiple cannons shots. The sound of him crashing into the rock floor sickening.

Which is nothing to Starscream’s oh so refined chuckle.
“And this, my dear Evac, is why Autobots shouldn’t even attempt to fly.” He glances at the ominous shadow that fills the jagged, melted hole. “It really is good to see it airborne again, don’t you agree?”
Oh, dear Primus. That…that’s the Stormbringer. We. Are. Finished.

“Haven’t you made a mess of that beautiful golden armour?” Starscream’s still crowing. “Ah, and if you would kindly bring that pot back here, Minicon, I would be – uuuffffrrgh!”

Evac’s blades hit him in the throat with enough force to throw him against the steps. Without slowing down, our leader surges to his feet and launches his hook and line. The metal cable shoots past and embeds itself in Soundwave’s wing. Or would have if the Decep wasn’t already in flight and drawing a bead with his rifle. Evac is quick, dodging the shots. Soundwave is even quicker and the second wave of discharges hit home. But it doesn’t slow Evac for a second. One of his launchers swings out and Soundwave suddenly finds a flare heading straight for his optics.

The blinding explosion doesn’t just stun the communicator. The four-legged mech skitters to one side, shielding its cockpit. Sixspeed starts forward again but then stops and looks back at us.
“Get going!” I yell, “GET OUTA HERE!”
“But –”
“GO!”

“Stop.”
The voice freezes the air and everything in it – Starscream in mid-stagger, Reverb as he tries desperately to fully transform his ruined legs, Evac, Soundwave, me – everything obeys.

Sixspeed gags and lifts into the air, ghostly fingers sprouting from his chest. Nightscream rises.
“You have no idea how hard it is to maintain any one part of me in a state just solid enough to hold an object in this fashion.”
He comes to a stop at ‘normal’ floor level.
“These stand offs are getting tiresomely repetitive. If you do not back off right now, I will materialise completely.” A smile as icy as his voice. “It will not be pretty.”

Evac lifts his weapons pod.
“I –”
A dagger of purple energy strikes him in the back.
“Nuh!”
Starscream lowers his null ray.
“And that is enough of that.” He walks over to Nightscream and plucks the Key from Sixspeed. “It would appear we have what we came from.”
“Eventually.”
“Thank you, Nightscream. The Spatial Key now belongs to the Decepticons! This is that start of the next great era in Cybertron’s history! My era!”
“Don’t rant. It makes you sound unhinged.”
“Look, I told you –”
“You…ur…” Evac is barely able to lift his head. “Won’t…get…away…with…urr…”

“Oh, for Primus sake!” Starscream throws up his free hand. “Stop all this heroic nonsense! I have the Key. I have a hostage. I have you at my mercy. Your shuttle is down in flames. My troops have driven yours to ground. The Stormbringer is hovering overhead. Precisely why am I not going to get away with this?”
I realise that Kicker has managed to uncurl and crawl a bit towards the Decepticons.
“Ennnrrrr…”
And I thought Evac sounded strained!
“Ennnrrgnnn billfippp…”
“What?” Looking exasperated, Starscream once again grabs the young human and hoist him to eye level. “Please do go on. What is it that troubles your fleshy little head?”
“Enner…ufff…energon…”
“And?”
The answer doesn’t come from Kicker.

Nightscream spasms and gasps. Sixspeed falls straight through him.
“I…I can’t stay solid…hyuk!” His shape goes fuzzy like a bad hologram. “Something’s disrupting me!”
Soundwave flinches and, just for an instant, he seems to actually be worried.
“Phasic radiation detected entering scanable wavelengths – massive energon build up engulfing this area.” He spins to look to the glass cube he shoved the guardians into. Or, as it’s now known, fragments of glass protruding from under a large chunk of roof.

Oops.

“Containment vessel breached. Readings indicate ambient radiation passing tolerable levels. Major malfunctions imminent.”
“Pah.”
Starscream lets Kicker go. Sixspeed darts over to stop the poor kid from going smash.
“Decepticons withdraw. We’ll let the Autobots enjoy the weather. We have more important things to get on with.”
The slagging heaps fly for the hole. I can’t stop them. None of us can. But I have to try!

The electron bolt goes true. It strikes the hand holding the Key – the one I sliced earlier. For all the good it does, I might have well have missed completely. Screamer stifles a yelp, looks back, sneers and carries on. Before I can do anything else, they’re all gone and we’ve been left to fry.

I take charge.
“Check Evac!”
Sixspeed, still cradling Kicker, runs past. I go to Reverb.
“Comeon. Lean on me. Try and hop.”
“Just leave me bulb-head. I’m done.”
“Scrap you and slag that idea to the Primus fragging Pit!”
The swearing at least gets me his attention.
“I’m not going to leave you here and you damn well know it!”
A massive blue/grey hand gently takes him.

Evac looms over me, beaten, blunted, ravaged but about as bowed as an I-beam. Kicker is already in his other hand.
“Time to leave.”

Things get a bit incoherent after this.

I join the dash for the exit as blue lightning bolts start to erupt left, right and centre. Then I see something in the rubble: a pot overturned by the collapsing roof, its contents spilt.

Retrieve anything that looks important.

My U-turn makes Evac bellow murder at me and there’s an aching agony in my chest. I reach the pot, seize something, turn, run.

Next thing I know, I’m flying out of the tunnel we came down with Evac’s cable wrapped round my waist and a surge of raw energon exploding after us.

I’m pretty sure we hit the ground before we crash into the sea. Both bounces knock my motherboards about worse than anything so far. All I can say is that we end up wet and sinking as the entire island starts to glow. The Stormbringer gains height. Figures throw themselves at us from the beach. I get a mouth full of sea water.

Then, like a…like a…like an island vanishing, the lump of volcano, sand, plants and alien amphitheatre is gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the heck just happened?”
I pull myself a little further onto the wreckage of the shuttle before giving Crosswise the only answer that fits the past half an hour.
“I don’t know.”

Primus, what a sorry lot we are.

Tagline and Longrack in stasis lock. Landslide missing an arm. Crosswise looking like the bad side of a pile up. Wheeljack with two broken hands and a smashed ear. Kicker bruised and sullen. Reverb in a crumpled heap. Evac not much better. Only me and Sixspeed are functioning anywhere near properly and given how I feel, that’s definitely an overstatement.

What a f*%$£*)(# disaster. Kicker agrees out loud with that thought, adding several more inventive expletives.

I stare at the unbroken water around us. No island. It’s just disappeared. Destroyed? Transported? I don’t know. Was it those aliens? Who were they anyway? I don’t know. Where did the Decepticons escape to? I don’t know. Anyone spot the pattern here? When will we be rescued?

About now, actually.

The search shuttle streaks over the horizon and angles for us, a white arrowhead-like craft with billowing blue wings flying alongside.
“Is that…?” asks Reverb.
“Yep,” I answer as Crosswise stands to wave the ship down, “It is. And I somehow doubt his ancientness is going to be pleased with our efforts.”
Reverb shrugs and Sixspeed gives me a consoling pat.
“At least you got that. Maybe it’ll help. I mean, it’s not the Key, but it’s got to be a key, hasn’t it?”

I look at the thing I got out of the cave, the thing I risked my life for. Our prize for this mission.

A transparent disc with a set of prongs sticking out of one side of the silver rim. It’s heavy and inert. And embossed with a big, red, unmissable Autobrand.

A key? A Key? Primus knows. Probably. It is better than nothing. Better than being slammed by the Deceps and getting away with only your life and your damage. Better than –

“Who are we trying to kid? It’s second prize and that’s it.”
I tuck the disc under my arm and help Sixpeed lift Reverb. The wreckage tips ominously as the rescue ship splashes down.
“All this for second prize.” Reverb waggles his useless legs.
“You’re the one who rammed Soundwave and mashed himself up. At least I managed to get something.”
“Look you two.” There’s something unusually authoritative in Sixspeed’s voice. “Give it up. Just for a bit?”

“Oh…all right.”
“Yeah, OK.”
“For now.”
“For a bit.”

The green mech sighs and shakes his head. Reverb grunts.
“Are you two gonna stand there all day? The view’s getting boring.”
We carry him away.

Behind us, the sea glitters innocently.








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