Chapter Text
Blackwind blinked open her optics. It had finally stopped raining, thank Onyx, and she was looking up at the welcoming sight of a starry sky. It was something she'd long missed, living in a light polluted nightmare like Iacon. The breadth of the Galaxy was visible from this dark ruin, and it brought her some quiet comfort.
"You're finally awake!" A chipper voice called out. Blackwind looked up weakly to see that Starcure was standing over her. Upon further inspection, Blackwind saw that she was laid out on an ad hoc berth along with the other Autobots, all of whom were inactive.
"The others have slipped into stasis lock," Starcure said, sadly, "But I think you'll make a faster recovery. You're remarkably hardy, you know."
She laid a comforting hand on Blackwind's shoulder, and the Peace Marshall smiled warmly at this strange and wondrous bot.
"Thank you, Starcure. You're...very kind How is everyone doing?"
The medic frowned. "I'm afraid they sustained some very serious injuries. I did the best I could with my usual kit, but I think all of the others are going to need some time in a CR chamber."
Blackwind frowned. "How badly damaged are they?"
"Depth Charge and Jetfire are both too damaged to move under their own power for now. I'd normally try and transport them out of here myself, but I don't think it'd be wise to try that right now."
Blackwind took stock of her surroundings, and began to understand. They were still in Kaon , a blasted-out ruin filled with hostile Vehicons. They had no way of getting out of here, not in their current conditions.
"I activated my distress beacon, of course," Starcure continued, "But I doubt we'll be getting anything anytime soon. It's a rather short range beacon. I hadn't thought to bring my planetary one, it's very bulky."
"Don't blame yourself, Starcure," Blackwind said, comforting the other bot, "You couldn't have expected-"
She was cut off by the sound of happy shouts and the sound of something being smashed. The two bots turned their head, and Starcure laughed.
"Oh, that's Swoop, he's keeping the Vehicons out of here."
Blackwind frowned. "How long has he been out there? By himself?"
"About ten cycles," Starcure answered, "And I'm not confident he can hold out that much longer…"
As if to punctuate her statement, the entrance gate to the Starport exploded. In burst a dozen or so Vehicons, slick and darkly painted. They fixed their visor-optics on the damaged Autobots, and raised their weapons.
Before they could fire, though, Swoop swept in. The Dinobot strafed them all with his firey breath, melting most of them down. Being bodies without sparks, they were far less durable than actual bots, and the former Predacon was obliterating them wholesale. Yet there were hundreds more, and they were swarming this position...it wouldn't be long before even Swoop was overwhelmed.
Just as Blackwind was prepared to stand, thinking it better to fight and die than to run, the sound of roaring tires cut in from the other side of the gate. A pair of brilliant yellow headlights cut through the night gloom, and a massive pink semi truck plowed through the horde of drones, sending most of them flying and crushing unders its wheels.
Blackwind beamed, even as Starcure repeatedly shouted "What?!" in obvious confusion. The semi truck pulled up in front of the two of them, and Swoop happily hopped down from the roof of the cab.
"Who-" Starcure began, before being interrupted by the ubiquitous sound of a Cybertronian changing modes.
The truck changed, reshaping into a pink and white bot standing about a head shorter than Blackwind. She was somewhat stocky in build, with broad, powerful shoulders. Her legs were strong and thick, with a pair of blasters attached to each. Her face had been smooth and fine featured once, when Blackwind first met her. Now it was frankly even more attractive, with battle scarring and various other signs of a bot that had lived a hard life. She still had those odd swirls on the sides of her head, too. One day Blackwind would have to ask her what those were about.
"It's good to see you, Arcee."
The weathered bot smiled at her, and put her hands on her hips. "A fine mess you've gotten yourself into, bird-brain."
Blackwind chuckled, bowing a bit for effect. "Where would I ever be without you to rescue me?"
"Dead," Arcee replied bluntly, a cocky smirk on her face, "Scrap in a back alley in Iacon."
"I don't mean to interrupt this lovely banter," Starcure began, interrupting their banter, "But there are still a thousand or so Vehicons out there, yes?"
Arcee turned around, as if she was only just now aware of the horde of encroaching drones. "Ah. Yeah. Don't worry, our ride should be here any cycle now…"
As if on cue, a dark shape peeked out from the edge of the starport. Blackwind looked on in amazement as a ship she never thought to see again approached. It was a graceful, if simple design; a long hull shaped like an obelisk with a slight downward curve, a squat prism of a bridge, and a pair of pylons on the sides that housed the pilot engines as well as many of the ship’s guns.
It was Orion Pax’s first flagship, and subsequently the original headquarters of the new Autobot rebellion. It was the Avalon.
The enormous ship lowered down into the spot the Ravager had been in not too long ago. Though she’d never considered it before, Blackwind noticed here that the Avalon was about the same size as the Predacon ship. It seemed odd to her, as she’d always remembered the Ravager being truly massive, unlike the Avalon , which had always felt cozy and compact whenever she was aboard. Must've been down to her different sizes in those eras. Primes knew she was barely bigger than a Minicon when she served aboard the Ravager .
The boarding ramp opened, and another familiar face stepped out. The bot in question had his familiar white paint job broken up by red and blue stripes along one side. He was a bit larger than she remembered, but still smaller than Blackwind or even Arcee. He leaned casually against the ramp's frame and studied her and the others.
"Well you bots look like scrap." Jazz said coolly, like he wasn't in the middle of a ruined Decepticon stronghold being overtaken by Vehicons.
"We'll catch up later, Jazz," Blackwind began, "But first maybe we should scat?"
Jazz chuckled. "That's the plan, cat. Hop on in, we'll talk when we're out of this 'Con hive."
They set to getting their injured colleagues up into the ship. Blackwind and Jazz grabbed the unconscious Jetfire, and Starcure helped Swoop in carrying the enormous Depth Charge up the ramp. Arcee, meanwhile, held off the Vehicons. She was carrying an impressive minigun, that was new. It was wreaking a Hell of its own through the Vehicon ranks and shredding them to pieces.
Nevertheless, there were too many for her to hold them off forever. Once the unconscious bots were aboard, Arcee hurried up the ramp and it was closed up. While Arcee and Swoop helped Starcure carry her patients to the repair bay, Jazz led Blackwind to the Avalon 's cockpit.
"Been quite a while, hasn't it? At least 100 stellar cycles."
"Funny," replied Blackwind, looking over the old familiar control console. "That doesn't seem like 'quite a while' to me."
"Yeah well," Jazz began, flipping the ignition switches and casually activating Custodian, the ship's AI, "You always were a slow ager. Figures a century would go by like that for you." He punctuated it with one of his signature servo snaps.
Blackwind nodded, looking over the various meters noting the Avalon' s progress in passing through its ignition sequence, and marking shield strength. Good, they were holding. She briefly flashed back darkly to the ambush from the Nemesis that nearly killed them all, almost two and a half centuries ago. Then, the shields just hadn't been good enough. Now though, against a pathetic horde of drones, they didn't have a ghost of a chance. At least, not anytime soon.
Soon enough the lights indicated she was ready to take off. With a comfortable smile, Blackwind gripped the controls and steered the Avalon up into the air. She casually broke atmosphere and put them in a parking orbit for the time being, then turned to Jazz
"So how did you get a hold of this old girl?"
Jazz laughed. "Well it wasn't hard; Arcee bought her off Daytrader. After the Militia got disbanded-"
She cut him off. "It never technically did get disbanded. Or even de facto disbanded. The Autobot Militia still exists, it's just...now it's less important than it used to be."
"Right," Jazz replied, "A good ol' fraternity of Great War vets who don't have anything better to do. That's us."
He looked her over, then frowned. "Well, it's most of us. Why did you keep your old commission, anyway? You never seemed too happy back in those days."
"Oh," Blackwind shot back, in a voice tinged with sarcasm, "That's just next to you, Jazz."
"I won't deny my perennial optimism and sunny disposition," Jazz conceded, "But that ain't what I mean and you know it."
The larger Autobot looked away from her co-pilot. “You’re right. I just don’t feel like talking about it right now.”
“Fair enough. I won’t pry.” He went back to the controls, and for a cycle or two they sat in companionable silence. Eventually though, Jazz broke the awkward silence.
“So uh...where’re we going?”
She pondered the question. “I’m going to shoot Prowl a message, see if he replies. We should be able to rendezvous with him and let him know that the Decepticons are heading to Earth."
"Earth, huh? So this time they're gonna be giving us the welcome, looks like. How'd they get there so fast? Got a plan for how we get there?"
"First off they've got a Transwarp drive. Meaning they could be there already. I've got a plan for how we can get there, a Space Bridge we might be able to use, but...”
“Oh really? Which one would that-”
His question was interrupted by a beep on the control console. After a moment, Blackwind recognized it as the long range communicator. With some apprehension, she flipped it on.
As expected, it was Prowl. He didn't look happy, which was even more expected.
“Peace Marshall, I’ve received your report. This is troubling. Can you clarify why you felt the need to engage?”
She nodded, and steeled herself. “I believed the odds were in our favor, and that it stood a realistic and strong chance of allowing us to capture the suspects.”
Prowl seemed to consider that for a moment. “Did you manage to acquire any useful information?”
Blackwind grimaced at that, given how little they’d really been able to get. “We confirmed they are using the Ravager , and that they are heading to Earth at Transwarp speeds. Slipstream indicated to her fellows that he is already there.”
“You trust this information?”
“Yes. It was shared in confidence, while we were observing them remotely.”
“Then...proceed with pursuit.”
“I...sir?” She was perplexed. Was she missing something here?
“Unrelatedly,” Prowl continued, something odd showing through on his face, “There is a message I think you’d like to see.”
The holo image of Prowl instantly changed to one of a collection of bots. None of them were familiar to Blackwind, but all bore the familiar mark of the Cybertrons. They were the ‘original’ faction of vehicular Transformers that the Autobots and Decepticons had both begun as splinter factions of. Over the course of the Great War, most had joined one side or another- but the largest single faction remained Cybetrons, who had remained ‘neutral’ throughout the war. Of course, since actual neutrality had been a non-option under Decepticon rule, the majority were collaborators. Only the sheer impracticality of actually trying all of them prevented the Autobots from punishing the many who had aided the Decepticons without outright joining them. Most of the Sentinels were Cybertrons, and she had a feeling these bots were Sentinels as well.
“These three, Oceancutter, Skypiercer, and Landshaker," Prowl began, grim-faced, "Are the heads of the Navies, Space Fighter Force, and the Army. They're forming a provisional government and have declared a state of emergency."
Blackwind lost it. "WHAT?!? They're forming a military junta?! Rodimus hasn't been dead for a solar cycle and they're already forming a military junta?!"
"It's not just because Rodimus is dead, Blackwind. The remaining Senators all voted to pass this motion."
"The remaining Senators... meaning the other Sentinels?"
Prowl nodded. "Yes. None of them were present at the bombing, so they are now the entirety of the Senate."
"There's emergency elections for this! They can't vote on any motions until they've elected replacements!" She had a feeling she knew where this was going.
"The issue is-" Prowl began, but then was cut off in a blast of static. The ship rocked as the inertial dampening briefly gave out, and alarms blared. Blackwind saw that the control panel had switched to alert status. Damage warnings and proximity sensors made it clear what had happened.
They were under attack. A quick optical scan showed that the attack had come from three Transformers on or circling the ship. One was in beast mode, in the form of a giant mechanical bat. They were blasting the hull with kinetic eye blasts, a near universal power for Predacons. Another was in robot mode, with a pair of vaguely avian wings behind them as they slashed out bursts of force from their blades. The third and final one was in beast mode, a wolf chewing at the Avalon 's hull. It was clear that one had just bit into the communications array and knocked it offline, which is what had disrupted the transmission with Prowl.
"Where did they come from?!" Blackwind asked, bewildered at this kind of attack happening here of all places.
"Probably from that ship over there." Jazz said coolly, pointing to a small ship in a parking orbit nearby.
"Oh, yeah. That'd do it."
"So, Blackwind," Jazz asked, leaning back in his chair, "What're we gonna do about 'em?"
"Find out what they want," Blackwind began as she got up, "After getting them to stop smashing up Optimus's ship."
She pressed a button, switching Custodian to alert mode. Immediately, the security system sprang into action. Each of the three Predacons was taken by surprise as one of the ship's concealed tangler guns blasted each of them in turn. The adhesive and durable materials bound them up and sent them into stasis lock, then robotic arms extended from the ship and drew each of them into holes in the hull. They were, she knew, being taken to the ship's holding cells.
"Alright then," Blackwind muttered enigmatically, "That confirms it."
"Confirms what?" Jazz asked, tilting his head in confusion.
"That Arcee really did fix the defensive systems like I'd hoped," Blackwind replied, "I'd had my doubts that anything on this old bird would work after the pounding she went through the last time I was on board."
"Aww you really ought to have more faith in me." A sultry voice murmured from right behind the Peace Marshall.
Blackwind spun around, and saw Arcee standing there with a hand on her hip. She was a bit greasy, with flecks of Energon and mech fluid here and there.
"Is all that... yours?" Blackwind asked, motioning to all of Arcee below the neck.
Arcee looked briefly confused, then followed where the other Autobot was pointing and grinned. "Oh, this? Nah, it's all from those Vehicons I smashed up earlier," her smile faded though, as she added, "Or from your friends down in the repair bay."
"How are they?"
"That cute little medic you brought in knows her stuff. I've never seen such quick repairs that didn't make the problem worse , but there you go. She says that Jetfire will need extended time in the CR Chamber, but the others will be fine to move around in less than a solar cycle."
"Good...good," she frowned, then shook the lingering guilt off, "We need to interrogate our prisoners now, and see what they want."
"I'd been wondering why Custodian was suddenly acting up...glad he works right, again. Mind if I tag along?"
Blackwind narrowed her optics. "They're not going to be mistreated in any way, Arcee."
The pink and white bot raised her hands defensively. "What? I'm not gonna do anything. Just stand around and look tough, you know?"
The Peace Marshall just shook her head. "Fine, come on. Jazz, you ok staying here?"
The short bot did a salute. "Yes, ma'am! I'll be on alert in case any other random preds attack us."
The two femmes walked side by side through the Avalon . As they passed by the medbay, Blackwind wondered if she should go inside to check on the others. She decided against it, noting that the interrogation had to take priority.
"The ship is so different from how I remember." Blackwind noted in astonishment as she took in all the little alterations to the interior.
The pink femme grinned. "Yeah...I did a lot of work on her. To be honest, most of the goodies are Wheeljack's work."
Blackwind nodded soberly. "I miss the old nutcase. We lost too many good bots that day at Autobot City…"
Arcee grimaced. "You don't need to remind me. Can I change the subject?"
Blackwind nodded. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
"Are you hoping to chase after Cyclonus and his goons? I heard about what Slipstream did to Rodimus, and I know you two were always close…"
"He was like the little brother I nevee had," the taller bot agreed, "And she murdered him. Stabbed him in the back, while mocking him."
"Right. Wasn't trying to get more morbid there. I was just asking how you planned to go after them."
"Ah. Well, does the Avalon have a Transwarp Cell?" It was a long shot, and unlikely Jazz could've failed to mention it sooner.
Arcee shook her head. "No. I had bigger priorities than making her capable of interstellar travel without a space bridge. Why is that important, though?"
"Because the Ravager is headed to Earth."
"Ouch. Yeah, not a lot of ways to get there by Space Bridge...at least not any legal space bridge."
Blackwind picked up on the emphasis. "Do you know of an illegal one then that might get us there?"
Arcee smirked. "I might. We'll see if it's necessary, though. This old bird's a good reliable ship- and I've given her some pretty damned good weapons if I say so myself- but if you're chasing down the Ravager I'd think you'd want something more...robust."
"True enough," Blackwind said as they approached the holding cells, before pressing a button to unlock the rooms, "We'll see how this goes…"
The holding cells were sparser than she remembered, clearly being rebuilt at a lower priority than other things. It was obvious that Arcee hadn't expected much need of these.
The three Predacons were still tied up and in stasis lock, each suspended behind a different force cage and set of metal bars. The force cage was obviously enough on its own, but the bars were a backup defense in case of power failure. It had boggled Blackwind's mind that so many bots didn't think to have such an obvious precaution against a common issue. Did it offend them to have such a practical and low tech solution in place?
"Want me to wake them up?" Arcee asked as she headed over to a control panel.
"Yes," Blackwind replied, eyeing the bat who was in the center cage, "I'd rather not do a core consciousness connection if we can just do this like civilized bots."
Arcee flicked a switch and brought the bots online. Their optics flickered open, and they all started shouting and looking around.
When they'd settled a bit, Blackwind spoke.
"I am Blackwind Major," she said, begrudgingly sharing her full title, "I am a Peace Marshall duly appointed by Rodimus Prime and approved of by the Senates and Courts of the Republic of Prima. Why have you attacked my vessel?"
The Bat narrowed their optics. "You even talk like a Cybertron. They've made you their pet ."
Immediately, Blackwind felt rage boiling within her. "Please don't try my patience. Tell me your name and what you're doing here."
The bat hissed and growled, but eventually spoke. "My name is Darkmoon. I am leader of my clan and my pack, and these are my packmates."
He motioned to the other two bots. "The other flyer is named Cloudscar. The wolf is named Wolfang. We are the Grey Pack, of Clan Shalebreak."
Blackwind nodded. "I've heard of you, Darkmoon. You are young, but you've earned some respect over the Stellar Cycles. Why did you attack my ship?"
Darkmoon hissed. "Why do you need to know? Why should I tell a traitor like you, who abandoned our kind ages ago? They tell tales of you, on the far-flung 'colonies' your Cybertron friends forced us onto! That your Autobot allies have only begrudgingly allowed us to leave, so as to return to our homeworld! Even now, we are pursued as we simply attempt to escape before your 'Sentinels' can persecute us as they did in the days of their so-called great hero, Sentinel Prime!"
"Wait...hold on a moment. You're being pursued? By whom?"
"By a ship of the Cybertron Space Guard! They approach us even now, with agents of the Elite Guard in command!"
Blackwind turned to Arcee, whose expression of concern mirrored her own. "Get out there, and repair the comm array if you can. Get in touch with Prowl about this. Tell Jazz he needs to pull their ship in before some shipful of strutlickers snatches it."
Arcee nodded, and headed off. For her part, Blackwind sat down on a bench next to the cells. For a time there was just silence between them, as the Predacons studied her warily. Eventually though, the one femme among them, Wolfang, spoke up.
"They call you the Traitor, you know." She was studying Blackwind with her cold, silvery optics. She was powerfully built, Blackwind noticed. Sturdy and strong, quick and lean. Well-built, as they usually said, though as a Predacon there had been little 'building' involved in constructing her form.
"I do know," Blackwind began, meeting the gaze out of the corner of her red optics, "And I don't care."
"You betrayed Lord Gigatron," the wolf continued, disregarding the Autobot's obvious irritation, "And joined with the Cybertrons, led by the Huntress. "
"It wasn't much of a choice between the two of them," Blackwind replied, before adding, "It was a long, pointless conflict. Many died. If you were there-"
Wolfang snarled. "I was there! I was one of those who fought at the battle of Micrus!"
"Then you saw the Minicons being scrapped en masse by our people! As punishment for helping injured Cybertrons! What do you think of that, hm?"
The wolf was silent for a bit, before replying. "I think we did many shameful things in the so-called Beast Wars. I simply do not see why only we face scorn for it, when the Cybertrons were also to blame."
"Well, because in the beginning we did start it, first off. Then, there's the matter of Gigatron's legacy after the war."
The Predacon scoffed. "You do not seriously believe those rumors about him and Megatron! They are nonsense! Cybertron lies!"
Blackwind shook her head. "I fought Megatron, even met him in person during the Great War. He was a student of Gigatron's philosophy for sure, just worse ."
The wolf seemed to be about to say something, but was interrupted by a buzzing on the intercom. Arcee’s voice came over it.
“So I remembered to get the backup running, and uh...we got inbound. You’re gonna wanna talk to them. They seem uh...upset, that we took these guys first.”
Blackwind narrowed her optics, then turned to Darkmoon and his clanmates. “I’m going to settle this. And I’m not giving you up, not to them .”
None of them looked terribly convinced, but she pressed on regardless and headed on to the cockpit. When she arrived, Jazz was already busy scrambling the controls; he had pulled the Predacons’ ship in with the Avalon’ s grapplers, and now there was a ship within firing range. Though it was understandably several hundred kilometers away, she could still see it with her acute optics without need of the usual visual enhancement that the ship’s interface could provide.
It was clearly a ship of Cybertron construction; not nearly as well-built as an Autobot vessel, as well-armed as a Decepticon one, or as thickly armored and just plain scary-looking as a Predacon one. It was boring, grey, and clearly designed by a bot with zero imagination.
Jazz looked up at the Peace Marshall with apprehension. “So uh...they’re wanting to talk?”
Blackwind nodded. “Put ‘em through.”
He flipped the switch, and after a brief flicker a holoprojector sprang to life. A bot Blackwind didn’t recognize appeared before her optics, with a cruel expression and a symbol marking her as a Cybertron.
“I am Truncheon, officer of the Elite Guard of Cybertron,” she began, his voice clipped and cold, “And I am placing you under arrest!”