CHAPTER THREE: DEBRIEFING AND DRAGONS
Secrecy was vital, at least in the short term. A Creation Matrix was simply too valuable for it to be any other way. Fortunately, Countdowns very existence provided the perfect cover story. A Commonwealth Ranger, having returned from the Unexplored Regions, only to have his ship destroyed on the very edges of known space, leaving him stranded on a dead world until the crew of the Lost Light detected his distress signal… Few people would question them escorting him the rest of the way home.
As he stared out the conference room window at the starscape beyond, Countdown mused that at least he wouldn’t have to wait too much longer before the burden in his chest was someone else’s problem. While he could be a leader if necessary, in his spark he would always be an explorer, seeking a new frontier to chart. Other mechs could deal with the future of the species, thank you very much.
“You know how it ended, but I suspect you’d prefer some context on events before you found me.” Turning, he considered the people sitting around the table that took up most of the room.
It was the largest mech present, a mass of blue and white armored plating, that spoke first. “I have reviewed all the relevant documentation that was filed before contact was lost with you. Would that be a suitable place to start?" Ultra Magnus inquired.
"More or less," the micromaster agreed, returning to his place at the table. The chair was compatible with his smaller physiology, lifting him up to table height and unfolding an armrest to form a second desk. "It should be noted, by that point I was only contacting the Commonwealth for scheduled check-ins every twenty years. Simple fact was, I was too far out to get help if I ran into any problems and the maintenance time on the quantum communications array was such that it really wasn’t worth calling more often.”
“Five minute call, two weeks downtime?” Rodimus mused.
“If I was lucky,” Countdown replied. “One of the perils of a solo mission. You have to do all the maintenance yourself.” The larger bots winced at that, getting a smirk in reply, before he tapped several buttons on the desk, activating the built-in holoprojector. An image of the galaxy appeared above the conference table, before zooming in on the section that made up local space. A marker appeared, showing the current location of the Lost Light above Gorlam Prime, followed by a bright line far to the galactic east across dozens of systems, showing the path followed by the Wayforward.
Leaning forward, Rodimus considered the line for a moment. “Very… back and forth, wasn’t it?”
That observation got a slight shrug in reply. "Side effect of my mission brief. Some Rangers are sent out with specific goals and locations to investigate. My assignment was more open ended than that. I was to search for anything that might help against the Endsong. Information, possible shielding methods, that sort of thing. Anything else, be it valuable minerals or navigation data, was just a nice bonus.” A cable slid out of his forearms and plugged into a port on the desk in front of him. The map updated, the Wayforwards path becoming more of a straight line that dived into the unknown. "About a year after my last check-in, I came across a small enclave with some interesting information. A star system that had supposedly survived the Endsong. Don't get me wrong, I was skeptical-"
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“-But they convinced me of why they weren’t investigating it themselves. They were a waystation for their people, a place to refuel and repair before continuing on to their own safe haven. They didn’t have the ships to go exploring rumors and odd dimensional anomalies.”
Several mechs nodded in understanding. “While your entire reason for being out there was to poke things,” Dustoff noted. “In more formal language of course.”
Grinning slightly, Countdown continued, updating the map again, showing the path he’d taken, and highlighting star systems along his path with icons to designate assorted stellar threats. “It wasn’t easy getting to the system in question, I’ll admit. That entire region seemed to be carrying scars that predate the Endsong. But after twelve years, I made it. And what I found…” He paused, considering what to say, then decided to let the hologram speak for him.
Everyone present reacted in some way as the map vanished, replaced by the image of a beautiful world with two moons, massive blue oceans, and continents layered with a rich tapestry of color. It was the sort of world none of the transformers present had seen for millennia. A world that was undeniably alive. "Oh, that's a nice color scheme," Rodimus whispered.
Further down the table, First Aid leaned forward, his gaze intent. "That looks like an organic ecosystem. For it to be developed enough to be visible from orbit it must still be sufficiently stable despite any Endsong effects on environmental aether.”
That comment drew a wry smile from Countdown. “Now that’s where it gets really interesting.” The display changed again, this time overlaying the existing image with a map of the aether flow patterns around it. The planet itself was a shining gem of multiple colors, radiating out from the planets core before returning inward, as had been normal for any world with life before the Endsong. The smaller moon had an odd aetheric signature, with something remarkably strong at its core, but it had relatively little effect beyond the lunar surface.
But it was the larger moon that caught everyone's attention. Glowing from within even more brightly than the planet it orbited, the moon radiated living aether outward, washing over the world below, the other moon, and the space beyond, eventually passing off the edges of the image. “Well, I can safely say I’ve never seen anything quite like that before,” Ultra Magnus mused, before glancing at the mech on his left, who had suddenly started giggling. “Perceptor?” he asked, optic ridges raised.
“My apologies,” the head of the ships science department managed. “I do believe I can identify the phenomenon Countdown witnessed.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rodimus grinned at the scientist. “Must be something special to get you of all bots giggling.”
“Ah, yes, well.” Coughing slightly, Perceptor pushed his embarrassment aside to focus on the topic at hand. “Bear in mind, this is currently conjecture based on a cursory evaluation of the evidence Countdown has presented. That said, it bears considerable similarity to a theory developed by Shockwave and Brainstorm.”
Frowning, Red Alert sat upright. “That sentence alone makes me want to do a contraband sweep of Brainstorms lab,” the security chief muttered.
Placing his hands on the table, Perceptor shifted into what his coworkers had termed his ‘university lecturer mode’. “As we all know, the Endsong is based in dynamis, the ‘dark matter’ that exists alongside the aether-based reality we can perceive and interact with. In order to interact with our reality in even minor ways, let alone corrupt living aether as it does, the Endsong requires truly extreme amounts of dynamis. This simple fact, an immutable law of reality, is the basis of all shielding technologies and methods that have been developed since its first appearance, by creating a layer of specially charged aetheric energy. However, the largest single shield any known civilization has been able to create is mere kilometers in diameter, and overlapping multiple such shields has historically been troublesome at best."
Glancing at the hologram again, Ultra Magnus frowned thoughtfully. “I hate to point out the obvious, but this is quite a bit larger than just a few kilometers.”
“Indeed!” Perceptor noted. “Which, I believe, is where Brainstorm and Shockwaves Planetary Lifespark Assisted Negation theory comes into play. They theorized that it was possible to take the lifespark of a world, converting it to a physical object much like our own Allspark was, and implant it within a lunar body. From there, it would radiate outward, naturally covering the world it orbited with a protective layer of aether. Any decay of the lunar aether is automatically restored by the lifespark of the planet below, which does not have the Endsong affecting it and thus is able to regenerate lost aether as normal.”
Unnoticed by the scientist in his excitement, the mood around the table shifted, from the initial wonder at the concept of a truly safe world and amusement at Perceptor actually managing to keep his explanation (relatively) simple for once, to unease and growing horror. "I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood you somewhere in there," First Aid said. “Because it sounds a lot like their brilliant idea was to murder a planet, compress its lifeforce into a physical object, then use it to shield another world."
“No, you understood the theory accurately,” Preceptor replied, disturbingly unconcerned by the direction the conversation had suddenly taken. “Also, in order to properly negate the effects of the Endsong, Brainstorm believes that the planetary lifespark would need to be at least a class 5 world.”
Groaning, Rodimus slumped back in his chair, running his hands down his face. “Epistemus, help me with those you blessed,” he said, turning his gaze towards the ceiling as if he expected to find the deity there.
“Wait wait wait,” Dustoff said, leaning forward. “Wait. Percy, I know what happens when you try to use Sapient-grade sparks for anything even approaching necromancy. There is no way the entire lifespark of a murdered world wouldn’t curdle almost immediately.” Slapping a palm against the table, she glared at the scientist. “I refuse to believe that even Brainy and Shockers, in the height of mad science arrogance, would think that it was possible to calm and purify a travesty like that enough it would be possible to wield it as a shield against the Endsong.”
In the face of such anger, Perceptor could only smile. “Exactly. And thus we come to the second reason it has remained nothing but a theory. There is no way such a shield can be crafted through deceit or violence. It would require those beings that make up the lifespark to choose to sacrifice themselves." Dustoff blinked, mouth dropping open slightly as she realized what that meant. "If this is the result of another civilisation developing a similar theory,” he continued, leaning forward across the table, “then this is the result of an entire worlds worth of people deciding to give up their lives to protect others.”
“Holy slag,” First Aid whispered in the silence that followed that statement.
“Well, that explains why you were giggling,” Countdown said. “And thank you Perceptor, you’ve actually answered some of my questions about Etheirys here. Although those answers raise other questions…” Shaking a head, he waved his hand, dismissing the questions for later. “If I may continue?” No one protested, although several bots looked slightly distracted by what they’d just heard. “After my initial scans, I made the decision to investigate the planet first, given it was the center of the anomaly. As I approached however…”
Removing the aetherflow overlay from the display, he shifted the image to a recording of the Wayforward approaching Etheirys. Then, the smaller moon lit up with dozens of icons everyone recognised all too well. Threat warnings. Missiles, attack drones, particle beam cannons and more. The entire lunar surface was covered with weapons emplacements, a large number of which were turning their attention to the Cybertronian scout ship.
"This was their first response?" Ultra Magnus enquired, eyes narrowing as he watched the attack make its way across the space between the moon and their target. “They made no attempts to contact you, or even fire a warning shot? An immediate escalation to hostilities?”
Red Alert snorted, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, someone’s paranoid about anyone coming to their private little paradise.”
That drew an odd little smirk from Countdown, but the micromaster simply continued the report. “Wayforwards evasion and shields were mostly able to handle it. The weapons systems were designed with the expectation of having technological superiority in mind. Still, they got enough hits in for what I assume was one of their goals. Like it or not, I had to make an emergency landing on the planet…
***
Looking over the battered form of his ship, Countdown didn’t bother holding back a sigh of frustration. Right along the starboard side of the ship, there was a large furrow burned into the orange-yellow armor plating, along with several more that curved up over the top of the ship and out of sight. Some of those hits were deep enough that they likely did some damage to the sections beneath that armor. And this was the part of the ship that contained the Transwarp drive. Which meant that it was all too likely that he wouldn’t be leaving this star system any time soon. While there was a hostile force here, probably hunting for him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned away from the Wayforward, looking over his surroundings. At least in the short term, he’d found a good landing site. Remote, no signs of civilization to be seen, and with sightlines that stretched for miles, so even if the hostile locals found a way past the Wayforwards sensor arrays, he had a decent chance of seeing them coming.
Although if he was being honest, he’d been that busy looking for somewhere safe to land, he hadn’t immediately processed the fact that this island was somehow floating thousands of meters above the ground.
Watching as a rock about as big as he was just floated by, he felt a smile forming, almost unwillingly. Yes, the situation might be bad, brought down on a hostile world by forces unknown, far from home and with no one able to help him. Yes, the fact he’d wandered in for a closer look like a Sharkticon that had seen Energon made him want to kick himself. But despite that, he was still feeling that familiar tingle in his wheels as he witnessed something new and incredible. In the end, that was the reason he was out here, after all.
Shaking his head, he turned back to his ship, then stopped as he caught movement out of the corner of his optic. On the far side of the ship, there was a fallen tree not too far from one of the landing struts. As he watched, the log shifted slightly as something bumped against it, followed by the sound of feet shifting in the dirt.
Powering up his internal weapons, just in case, Countdown kept his gaze on the log. After about twenty seconds, a small, red scaled reptilian looking creature poked its head around the side of the log, only to freeze as it realized it had been spotted. After meeting the transformers gaze for several seconds, its head tilted to the side. “Hey… Are you wearing like, a really complicated suit of armor, or are you made of metal?” she asked.
***
“You understood her? Just like that?”
Countdown chuckled. “Her species aren’t actually native to Etheirys. The dragons are descended from a handful of refugees who stumbled over the planet by sheer luck while fleeing the armies that invaded and destroyed their homeworld. At some point, someone from Cybertron must have visited that world, but there was no record of the meeting in the Wayforwards database, just the language in the translation software.” He shrugged, his mood darkening. “I’m hoping the archives on Nexus have something I can take back to them. Their ancestor quite literally escaped with nothing but an armful of eggs.”
Everyone around the table shifted uneasily, clearly remembering Cybertron. Even Rodimus, usually a bot of exuberance and joy, looked a million years older for a moment. "I see no reason we need to keep that particular matter classified," Ultra Magnus said, breaking the silence. "I'll forward a request to the chief archivist and see if they can get started." The ranger nodded gratefully, before continuing.
***
“Mostly metal. Some plastic and ceramics as well, but nothing organic,” he replied in the same language.
“Ha! I was right,” she laughed, leaping out from behind the log and stretching, revealing the rest of her body. She was a quadruped, with her body barely coming up to Countdown’s waist, although her long neck would at least save her from having to look up too much while talking to him. A pair of leathery wings were tucked in tight against her back, and a long tail trailed behind her. "I've never seen any mortal manage to make armor that includes so many moving parts. They need to fit a person inside," she added thoughtfully.
Grinning slightly, the ranger couldn’t help but snark a little. “Well, if the person couldn’t fit inside, it wouldn’t be very good as armor, would it?”
Considering that, the dragon had to nod in agreement. "I’m Fylgja.”
Bowing slightly, he replied to the introduction with a polite “Call me Countdown.”
“So, how'd your skyship get so broken?"
Putting a hand behind his head, the mech looked up at the scars along its hull. "I flew too close to the moon. Someone up there didn't like that, so they started shooting at me."
"Ahhh, that makes sense," the small creature replied. "The Allagans were real jerks like that."
"Oh, you know them?" Countdown asked, although he noted the use of past tense when she referred to them.
"Yeah-huh. Well, I've heard of them. They all died a looong time ago, way before I hatched. I think about three thousand years? You’d need to ask the Loresingers for an exact number.” Flapping her wings, she lifted off the ground and floated alongside the ship. “But the way Mama tells it, they killed Uncle Bahamut, which really upset Auntie Tiamat. I mean, really upset," she emphasized, while Countdown moved his estimation of the dragons age bracket down. "She was so upset she tried a magic spell to bring him back, and it… kinda worked? Except he was really mad about being killed, which I can totally understand, I’d be mad if someone killed me, so he went to kill the Allagans because it's only fair really. But they were ready for him and trapped him in the moon! Which made Auntie Tiamat even more upset, so she locked herself away and won't talk to anyone, and then the Emperor of Allag decided to use the moon to steal Bahamuts power for himself, but something went wrong. Mama said there was an 'Umbral Calamity', and the Allag went splat!"
Nodding to show he was paying attention, Countdown resisted the urge to frown. This child, if she was telling the truth, and if what she'd been taught was accurate, it implied several different things. First, that the people who made that damn war moon were no longer a problem, which likely meant the things defenses were running on automatic. Which meant that if he managed to repair his ship, he could get off-world without too much difficulty, and that they weren’t tracking his location from orbit while arranging local forces to trap him.
Second, this world was even more interesting than he'd already suspected. Resurrection techniques weren’t unheard of, but they were still incredibly rare. And Bahamut had enough of a spark to return from the Lifespark, and still possess incredible power. If the Allagans had actually planned to trap him in that war moon as a power source, as opposed to a desperate method of containing an angry enemy, the implications…
But much more important were the short term considerations. It suggested that Fylgja was related to powerful beings of considerable importance on this world. If she’d wandered off to investigate his landing, there was a good chance someone would come looking for her, and sooner rather than later.
And as he had that thought, shadows passed overhead, along with the sound of much larger wings than Fylgja’s.
***
“Fun note,” Countdown said dryly, to the much larger mechs gathered around the table. “Dragons come in at least as wide a range of sizes as Cybertronians.”
Secrecy was vital, at least in the short term. A Creation Matrix was simply too valuable for it to be any other way. Fortunately, Countdowns very existence provided the perfect cover story. A Commonwealth Ranger, having returned from the Unexplored Regions, only to have his ship destroyed on the very edges of known space, leaving him stranded on a dead world until the crew of the Lost Light detected his distress signal… Few people would question them escorting him the rest of the way home.
As he stared out the conference room window at the starscape beyond, Countdown mused that at least he wouldn’t have to wait too much longer before the burden in his chest was someone else’s problem. While he could be a leader if necessary, in his spark he would always be an explorer, seeking a new frontier to chart. Other mechs could deal with the future of the species, thank you very much.
“You know how it ended, but I suspect you’d prefer some context on events before you found me.” Turning, he considered the people sitting around the table that took up most of the room.
It was the largest mech present, a mass of blue and white armored plating, that spoke first. “I have reviewed all the relevant documentation that was filed before contact was lost with you. Would that be a suitable place to start?" Ultra Magnus inquired.
"More or less," the micromaster agreed, returning to his place at the table. The chair was compatible with his smaller physiology, lifting him up to table height and unfolding an armrest to form a second desk. "It should be noted, by that point I was only contacting the Commonwealth for scheduled check-ins every twenty years. Simple fact was, I was too far out to get help if I ran into any problems and the maintenance time on the quantum communications array was such that it really wasn’t worth calling more often.”
“Five minute call, two weeks downtime?” Rodimus mused.
“If I was lucky,” Countdown replied. “One of the perils of a solo mission. You have to do all the maintenance yourself.” The larger bots winced at that, getting a smirk in reply, before he tapped several buttons on the desk, activating the built-in holoprojector. An image of the galaxy appeared above the conference table, before zooming in on the section that made up local space. A marker appeared, showing the current location of the Lost Light above Gorlam Prime, followed by a bright line far to the galactic east across dozens of systems, showing the path followed by the Wayforward.
Leaning forward, Rodimus considered the line for a moment. “Very… back and forth, wasn’t it?”
That observation got a slight shrug in reply. "Side effect of my mission brief. Some Rangers are sent out with specific goals and locations to investigate. My assignment was more open ended than that. I was to search for anything that might help against the Endsong. Information, possible shielding methods, that sort of thing. Anything else, be it valuable minerals or navigation data, was just a nice bonus.” A cable slid out of his forearms and plugged into a port on the desk in front of him. The map updated, the Wayforwards path becoming more of a straight line that dived into the unknown. "About a year after my last check-in, I came across a small enclave with some interesting information. A star system that had supposedly survived the Endsong. Don't get me wrong, I was skeptical-"
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“-But they convinced me of why they weren’t investigating it themselves. They were a waystation for their people, a place to refuel and repair before continuing on to their own safe haven. They didn’t have the ships to go exploring rumors and odd dimensional anomalies.”
Several mechs nodded in understanding. “While your entire reason for being out there was to poke things,” Dustoff noted. “In more formal language of course.”
Grinning slightly, Countdown continued, updating the map again, showing the path he’d taken, and highlighting star systems along his path with icons to designate assorted stellar threats. “It wasn’t easy getting to the system in question, I’ll admit. That entire region seemed to be carrying scars that predate the Endsong. But after twelve years, I made it. And what I found…” He paused, considering what to say, then decided to let the hologram speak for him.
Everyone present reacted in some way as the map vanished, replaced by the image of a beautiful world with two moons, massive blue oceans, and continents layered with a rich tapestry of color. It was the sort of world none of the transformers present had seen for millennia. A world that was undeniably alive. "Oh, that's a nice color scheme," Rodimus whispered.
Further down the table, First Aid leaned forward, his gaze intent. "That looks like an organic ecosystem. For it to be developed enough to be visible from orbit it must still be sufficiently stable despite any Endsong effects on environmental aether.”
That comment drew a wry smile from Countdown. “Now that’s where it gets really interesting.” The display changed again, this time overlaying the existing image with a map of the aether flow patterns around it. The planet itself was a shining gem of multiple colors, radiating out from the planets core before returning inward, as had been normal for any world with life before the Endsong. The smaller moon had an odd aetheric signature, with something remarkably strong at its core, but it had relatively little effect beyond the lunar surface.
But it was the larger moon that caught everyone's attention. Glowing from within even more brightly than the planet it orbited, the moon radiated living aether outward, washing over the world below, the other moon, and the space beyond, eventually passing off the edges of the image. “Well, I can safely say I’ve never seen anything quite like that before,” Ultra Magnus mused, before glancing at the mech on his left, who had suddenly started giggling. “Perceptor?” he asked, optic ridges raised.
“My apologies,” the head of the ships science department managed. “I do believe I can identify the phenomenon Countdown witnessed.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rodimus grinned at the scientist. “Must be something special to get you of all bots giggling.”
“Ah, yes, well.” Coughing slightly, Perceptor pushed his embarrassment aside to focus on the topic at hand. “Bear in mind, this is currently conjecture based on a cursory evaluation of the evidence Countdown has presented. That said, it bears considerable similarity to a theory developed by Shockwave and Brainstorm.”
Frowning, Red Alert sat upright. “That sentence alone makes me want to do a contraband sweep of Brainstorms lab,” the security chief muttered.
Placing his hands on the table, Perceptor shifted into what his coworkers had termed his ‘university lecturer mode’. “As we all know, the Endsong is based in dynamis, the ‘dark matter’ that exists alongside the aether-based reality we can perceive and interact with. In order to interact with our reality in even minor ways, let alone corrupt living aether as it does, the Endsong requires truly extreme amounts of dynamis. This simple fact, an immutable law of reality, is the basis of all shielding technologies and methods that have been developed since its first appearance, by creating a layer of specially charged aetheric energy. However, the largest single shield any known civilization has been able to create is mere kilometers in diameter, and overlapping multiple such shields has historically been troublesome at best."
Glancing at the hologram again, Ultra Magnus frowned thoughtfully. “I hate to point out the obvious, but this is quite a bit larger than just a few kilometers.”
“Indeed!” Perceptor noted. “Which, I believe, is where Brainstorm and Shockwaves Planetary Lifespark Assisted Negation theory comes into play. They theorized that it was possible to take the lifespark of a world, converting it to a physical object much like our own Allspark was, and implant it within a lunar body. From there, it would radiate outward, naturally covering the world it orbited with a protective layer of aether. Any decay of the lunar aether is automatically restored by the lifespark of the planet below, which does not have the Endsong affecting it and thus is able to regenerate lost aether as normal.”
Unnoticed by the scientist in his excitement, the mood around the table shifted, from the initial wonder at the concept of a truly safe world and amusement at Perceptor actually managing to keep his explanation (relatively) simple for once, to unease and growing horror. "I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood you somewhere in there," First Aid said. “Because it sounds a lot like their brilliant idea was to murder a planet, compress its lifeforce into a physical object, then use it to shield another world."
“No, you understood the theory accurately,” Preceptor replied, disturbingly unconcerned by the direction the conversation had suddenly taken. “Also, in order to properly negate the effects of the Endsong, Brainstorm believes that the planetary lifespark would need to be at least a class 5 world.”
Groaning, Rodimus slumped back in his chair, running his hands down his face. “Epistemus, help me with those you blessed,” he said, turning his gaze towards the ceiling as if he expected to find the deity there.
“Wait wait wait,” Dustoff said, leaning forward. “Wait. Percy, I know what happens when you try to use Sapient-grade sparks for anything even approaching necromancy. There is no way the entire lifespark of a murdered world wouldn’t curdle almost immediately.” Slapping a palm against the table, she glared at the scientist. “I refuse to believe that even Brainy and Shockers, in the height of mad science arrogance, would think that it was possible to calm and purify a travesty like that enough it would be possible to wield it as a shield against the Endsong.”
In the face of such anger, Perceptor could only smile. “Exactly. And thus we come to the second reason it has remained nothing but a theory. There is no way such a shield can be crafted through deceit or violence. It would require those beings that make up the lifespark to choose to sacrifice themselves." Dustoff blinked, mouth dropping open slightly as she realized what that meant. "If this is the result of another civilisation developing a similar theory,” he continued, leaning forward across the table, “then this is the result of an entire worlds worth of people deciding to give up their lives to protect others.”
“Holy slag,” First Aid whispered in the silence that followed that statement.
“Well, that explains why you were giggling,” Countdown said. “And thank you Perceptor, you’ve actually answered some of my questions about Etheirys here. Although those answers raise other questions…” Shaking a head, he waved his hand, dismissing the questions for later. “If I may continue?” No one protested, although several bots looked slightly distracted by what they’d just heard. “After my initial scans, I made the decision to investigate the planet first, given it was the center of the anomaly. As I approached however…”
Removing the aetherflow overlay from the display, he shifted the image to a recording of the Wayforward approaching Etheirys. Then, the smaller moon lit up with dozens of icons everyone recognised all too well. Threat warnings. Missiles, attack drones, particle beam cannons and more. The entire lunar surface was covered with weapons emplacements, a large number of which were turning their attention to the Cybertronian scout ship.
"This was their first response?" Ultra Magnus enquired, eyes narrowing as he watched the attack make its way across the space between the moon and their target. “They made no attempts to contact you, or even fire a warning shot? An immediate escalation to hostilities?”
Red Alert snorted, resting his elbows on the table. “Well, someone’s paranoid about anyone coming to their private little paradise.”
That drew an odd little smirk from Countdown, but the micromaster simply continued the report. “Wayforwards evasion and shields were mostly able to handle it. The weapons systems were designed with the expectation of having technological superiority in mind. Still, they got enough hits in for what I assume was one of their goals. Like it or not, I had to make an emergency landing on the planet…
***
Looking over the battered form of his ship, Countdown didn’t bother holding back a sigh of frustration. Right along the starboard side of the ship, there was a large furrow burned into the orange-yellow armor plating, along with several more that curved up over the top of the ship and out of sight. Some of those hits were deep enough that they likely did some damage to the sections beneath that armor. And this was the part of the ship that contained the Transwarp drive. Which meant that it was all too likely that he wouldn’t be leaving this star system any time soon. While there was a hostile force here, probably hunting for him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned away from the Wayforward, looking over his surroundings. At least in the short term, he’d found a good landing site. Remote, no signs of civilization to be seen, and with sightlines that stretched for miles, so even if the hostile locals found a way past the Wayforwards sensor arrays, he had a decent chance of seeing them coming.
Although if he was being honest, he’d been that busy looking for somewhere safe to land, he hadn’t immediately processed the fact that this island was somehow floating thousands of meters above the ground.
Watching as a rock about as big as he was just floated by, he felt a smile forming, almost unwillingly. Yes, the situation might be bad, brought down on a hostile world by forces unknown, far from home and with no one able to help him. Yes, the fact he’d wandered in for a closer look like a Sharkticon that had seen Energon made him want to kick himself. But despite that, he was still feeling that familiar tingle in his wheels as he witnessed something new and incredible. In the end, that was the reason he was out here, after all.
Shaking his head, he turned back to his ship, then stopped as he caught movement out of the corner of his optic. On the far side of the ship, there was a fallen tree not too far from one of the landing struts. As he watched, the log shifted slightly as something bumped against it, followed by the sound of feet shifting in the dirt.
Powering up his internal weapons, just in case, Countdown kept his gaze on the log. After about twenty seconds, a small, red scaled reptilian looking creature poked its head around the side of the log, only to freeze as it realized it had been spotted. After meeting the transformers gaze for several seconds, its head tilted to the side. “Hey… Are you wearing like, a really complicated suit of armor, or are you made of metal?” she asked.
***
“You understood her? Just like that?”
Countdown chuckled. “Her species aren’t actually native to Etheirys. The dragons are descended from a handful of refugees who stumbled over the planet by sheer luck while fleeing the armies that invaded and destroyed their homeworld. At some point, someone from Cybertron must have visited that world, but there was no record of the meeting in the Wayforwards database, just the language in the translation software.” He shrugged, his mood darkening. “I’m hoping the archives on Nexus have something I can take back to them. Their ancestor quite literally escaped with nothing but an armful of eggs.”
Everyone around the table shifted uneasily, clearly remembering Cybertron. Even Rodimus, usually a bot of exuberance and joy, looked a million years older for a moment. "I see no reason we need to keep that particular matter classified," Ultra Magnus said, breaking the silence. "I'll forward a request to the chief archivist and see if they can get started." The ranger nodded gratefully, before continuing.
***
“Mostly metal. Some plastic and ceramics as well, but nothing organic,” he replied in the same language.
“Ha! I was right,” she laughed, leaping out from behind the log and stretching, revealing the rest of her body. She was a quadruped, with her body barely coming up to Countdown’s waist, although her long neck would at least save her from having to look up too much while talking to him. A pair of leathery wings were tucked in tight against her back, and a long tail trailed behind her. "I've never seen any mortal manage to make armor that includes so many moving parts. They need to fit a person inside," she added thoughtfully.
Grinning slightly, the ranger couldn’t help but snark a little. “Well, if the person couldn’t fit inside, it wouldn’t be very good as armor, would it?”
Considering that, the dragon had to nod in agreement. "I’m Fylgja.”
Bowing slightly, he replied to the introduction with a polite “Call me Countdown.”
“So, how'd your skyship get so broken?"
Putting a hand behind his head, the mech looked up at the scars along its hull. "I flew too close to the moon. Someone up there didn't like that, so they started shooting at me."
"Ahhh, that makes sense," the small creature replied. "The Allagans were real jerks like that."
"Oh, you know them?" Countdown asked, although he noted the use of past tense when she referred to them.
"Yeah-huh. Well, I've heard of them. They all died a looong time ago, way before I hatched. I think about three thousand years? You’d need to ask the Loresingers for an exact number.” Flapping her wings, she lifted off the ground and floated alongside the ship. “But the way Mama tells it, they killed Uncle Bahamut, which really upset Auntie Tiamat. I mean, really upset," she emphasized, while Countdown moved his estimation of the dragons age bracket down. "She was so upset she tried a magic spell to bring him back, and it… kinda worked? Except he was really mad about being killed, which I can totally understand, I’d be mad if someone killed me, so he went to kill the Allagans because it's only fair really. But they were ready for him and trapped him in the moon! Which made Auntie Tiamat even more upset, so she locked herself away and won't talk to anyone, and then the Emperor of Allag decided to use the moon to steal Bahamuts power for himself, but something went wrong. Mama said there was an 'Umbral Calamity', and the Allag went splat!"
Nodding to show he was paying attention, Countdown resisted the urge to frown. This child, if she was telling the truth, and if what she'd been taught was accurate, it implied several different things. First, that the people who made that damn war moon were no longer a problem, which likely meant the things defenses were running on automatic. Which meant that if he managed to repair his ship, he could get off-world without too much difficulty, and that they weren’t tracking his location from orbit while arranging local forces to trap him.
Second, this world was even more interesting than he'd already suspected. Resurrection techniques weren’t unheard of, but they were still incredibly rare. And Bahamut had enough of a spark to return from the Lifespark, and still possess incredible power. If the Allagans had actually planned to trap him in that war moon as a power source, as opposed to a desperate method of containing an angry enemy, the implications…
But much more important were the short term considerations. It suggested that Fylgja was related to powerful beings of considerable importance on this world. If she’d wandered off to investigate his landing, there was a good chance someone would come looking for her, and sooner rather than later.
And as he had that thought, shadows passed overhead, along with the sound of much larger wings than Fylgja’s.
***
“Fun note,” Countdown said dryly, to the much larger mechs gathered around the table. “Dragons come in at least as wide a range of sizes as Cybertronians.”