2015-04-29 Unexpected Visitors
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||The Lost Light, Earth|
|Participants||Knock Out, Slugfest, Riptide, Tailgate, Breakdown, Chromia, Chromedome|
|NPCs||Ratchet, Drift, Starscream|
|Summary||The Lost Lighters get kidnapped!! By -- other Lost Lighters.|
The adventure never ends. It's only a matter of moving from one misadventure to the next.
This one seems forward enough. There is a distress call from a planet that is reporting of complications from a wormhole that formed nearby. Yet what makes this odd is that as the approach is made towards this previously uncharted planet there might indeed be a wormhole but there is remarkably little in the way of complications that it is causing. It appears to be a very normal wormhole for all intents and purposes. That distress message though, *that* gets more complicated because the nearer the Lost Light draws the more *familiar* it becomes. It morphs, which Perceptor will have to consult with the resident quantum expert on. This message, it is Cybertronian, it is from something very similar to the Lost Light - in fact, it appears to be from *a* Lost Light. This is confirmed as the ship nears the planet and this other LL drifts out into view, those this other craft looks ... older and badly damaged.
"Okay, so this is super weird, but apparently it's another Lost Light out there, so we're gonna go check it out."
How's that for a crew address. Leaving Ultra Magnus to facepalm his way into restoring dignity by way of concussive delusions, Rodimus makes the order to bring the ship closer. He answers the distress call with a hail that starts, "Hey, nice ship," and devolves from there.
"Why are we going /towards/ the wormhole?" Knock Out wonders, peering out the shuttle as they drift along. "Yes, yes, I know -- distress signal. But /really/." And then it's the /Lost Light/, and he's literally throwing up his hands. "/What is going on/."
A little stego sits beside the others, tail swishing a little. "So when go in wormhole, can go fishing afters?" he wonders, "Want go fishing. Is lots worms in worm hole?"
Riptide has been.. confused. Very confused about this whole ordeal. It's bad enough that wormholes are involved, which is a concept he will never come close to understanding even if he had Wormholes for Dummies. But of course now there's a second Lost Light, a fact that makes him grumble in exasperation and nearly throw his hands up.
"This makes no sense! How can there be two Lost Lights? Please tell me there won't be another me on board. ...And if there is I hope he's cool." Poor Riptide rubs his face. It's like a Nautica lecture all over again!
"I don't think it's that kind of wormhole." Tailgate is seated beside Slugfest, eyes attentive despite the nerve working up in his spark. "We watched a movie like this once. There was a wormhole and a ship came back in time through it." The small bot looks over to the stego. "I don't know if I like this as much."
Slugfest ohs quietly. "Like Star Treks? So that are Lost Light C?"
"They don't call it a worm because of worms. They call it a worm because it's a wriggly wiggly weird thing in space," Breakdown rumbles by way of explanation. Here in the Science! corner, apparently. He shows Slugfest by spreading his pointy-fingered hands in a circle and peering through the massive circle he has made at him. "Like a hole in ... holes. Or something."
Lowering his hands again, he shifts his weight to clank against the side of the wall, his stare vaguely offended as he aims it at the growing image of the other ship.
"I'm just gonna call it magic and call it a day. Don't get it. Can't explain it. Magic." Riptide sighs from the back, his shoulders sinking in dismay over this. Maybe it'll just end up being an illusion. Or maybe it will be an amazing encounter that will lead to.. I don't know, cross-dimensional peace or something. Who knows!
Chromia keeps her distance from Knock Out and Breakdown though she stands there, not far from there. She keeps getting distracted looking to the visual of the other ship and the red Con before her. "Hrm, what?" She looks down to Slugfest and considers asking him to repeat himself.
When the other Lost Light is haled there is an attempt at a reply but all that comes is a garble of static. Sensors will reveal that the other craft is too badly damaged to have a working comm system. what it does have, however, is propulsion. Rodimus' desire to check it out will have to wait since this other Lost Light moves to intercept the real Lost Light! There is no need to go to the wormhole or this other craft since it comes *at* you!
There is barely time for a warning to brace for impact before it is upon the Lost Light. It's set for a collision course and will collide in 3... 2...
Everything goes dark.
Slugfest ohs as Breakdown attempts to explain the phenomenon. "Okay," he says.
If anyone wants to know what's happening on the bridge, it's /mostly/ a lot of swearing. A distant wail of, "But we just fixed it!" might be audible.
"What on--" Knock Out kind of crashes into Breakdown, because that's what you keep your big strong boyfriend around for. "Primus! What the hell!"
Slugfest squeals as everything goes dark and things get jolted, causing the tiny stego to wind up upside-down, with his chainsaw plates jammed in the deck plating! He kicks little feets trying to free himself!
As the sensors clear you will find yourself on the bridge of the Lost Light. Rather, *a* Lost Light. There is an uncomfortable smell of old oil in the air and the flickering of lights that reveal how poorly this craft is held together. This ship is familiar in all the ways it should be, yet there are some differences - things that will have been shifted around over time.
You awake on the floor. Standing over you is a figure, one that waves a sensor back and forth. "Well, it *worked*," huffs the scruffy old bot that you know as Ratchet. "I should be more surprised but they're all functional, Captain." Who does he address?
Stepping into view is another familiar figure, though he is missing his left arm. It'ls just gone. Though he appears the same otherwise he also feels older. To prove how right Tailgate was in his guess Drift offers his one good hand to the little bot to get up.
"Welcome to the future. I hope you're prepared to save it."
In the wake of utter darkness and the shrieking squeal and groan of metal, Breakdown pushes up from the crumple of his fall, one heavy boot bearing the full force of his weight as he surges upward. He's not sure how he ended up on the floor, but then, he's not sure how he ended up on the bridge, besides that it might have something to do with a wriggly wiggly thing in space. Without thinking about it, he holds out a pointed-fingered hand in a broad splay to help Knock Out up.
"What the frag happened to you?" he demands with surly immediacy of Drift, and then looks around again with the kind of bristle that bespeaks a rising tide of anger from his gut of the kind that he hasn't given vent to in, oh, a little while, anyways. "What the frag did you just say?"
Slugfest kick-kick-kicks as he struggles to right himself! "Am stuck! Need help!" *kick-kick-kick*
"Frag, hold o--!" Riptide is effectively freaking out, clinging to a chair, but before he can even finish, the lights go out just before impact and... Nothing. It's as if everything just drifted off into a dream and.. it honestly feels like one when the sharkbot reawakens on the floor, just kinda.. laying there stock still for a good while as 'Ratchet' asesses him. Only when 'Drift' speaks up does he jolt upright and sputter, "Waitwaitwaitwait.. wait.. WAIT... What do you mean the future? What the.. What the /frag/ just happened?" He can already feel his speech start to ratchet up a speed, the poor bot getting anxious.
"Scrap." It takes Knock Out a moment to clear his optics and peer up at the ceiling. He swings a hand up and manages to find Breakdown's almost immediately, hoisting himself up with the bigger bot's help. "No," is his immediate response to 'Drift's' wish. Then, "/What/?"
Tailgate leans to-and-fro to spot an errant bot or two amongst the others and has no luck; his reaction to the lights is not dissimilar from the audible one that Knock Out has. He braces his feet against the floor, parroting some confusion before everything actually goes topsy-turvy on him.
Tailgate briefly covers his eyeplate in reaction to the light in it, hand shading what few things he can see before he is sitting up where he is, gaze traveling wide, from bot to bot both familiar and-- also familiar, but not quite. "Your arm--!" Should not be the first thing out of him even as he accepts the offer of help upright.
Chromia is slow to rise because, well, this is a lot to take in. Still, she gets to her feet and then she means to lift Slugfest up - by his tail - to set him down again, this time on his feet. "I got you," she mutters as she looks around. Doesn't look like Soundwave is here to look after him, but then her spark sinks as neither is Windblade.
Future Ratchet steps back to let Future Drift have the floor, that and he can better monitor the arrivals without having to answer questions.
Drift rocks on his feet a moment and looks about everyone here. "So, you should all have a LOT of questions. I know I would, so let me try to lay out what I can as best I can. The quick overview. We kidnapped you."
Yeah, that pretty much covers it, however, maybe you all deserve to know more. "This is the future, not really a far future for us considering... a date doesn't matter but this is roughly five thousand years from the WHEN you came from. We were able to pinpoint from the ship logs WHEN you would be at a wormhole and so we came across to get you because... we *need* you. There are only ten of us left, in all of the galaxy. Any galaxy. Ten Cybertronains. Not of us - well, save *one* of us - are in any condition to do anything about it which is why we need *fully functional* bots. Thus, from a time before the Earth was lost and Cybertron was destroyed and dismantled."
Drift then looks back to Ratchet. "You were right, scrap it. They'd wonder about the arm the most." He looks back to the arrivals. "I lost it saving the Lost Light. Resources are ... low. Non-existent, so it can't be replaced. It's okay though. I don't need it because now we have *you*."
Breakdown splutters a little in place for a moment with a kind of rapid wheezing grind of gears, like a halfway to verbal form of asdfjkl;, staring between the two of them in obvious consternation, massive fists flexing at his sides. For a moment it looks like he might be about to charge one or both of them and try to physically shake them into not speaking nonsense anymore. He says, "For /what/," which skips over a number of other important questions, but cuts straight to the relevant point that may involve himself and his conjunx being about to be fed to, for example, a spider monster the size of a small sun.
Slugfest yays as he's picked up and set on feet. He stares at the one armed mech in confusion. "So how need fix problem?" he says, cocking his head sideways at Future Ratchet and Future Drift. "Where all others go? Assimilated by Borg?" Yeah, someone shouldn't have introduced the tiny stego to holo-tapes of old star trek episodes...
"Ten is a very, very small number," Knock Out informs Drift and Ratchet, as if they -- didn't already know. Just in case. His voice is a bit thin.
Riptide's head begins to hurt even more now. "Only ten? Are you serious? What the frag could've caused that? Cause, you know, last time I checked we had billions." He unconsciously sidles a bit closer to Chromia, feeling a bit safer by her. "And if this.. whatever it is wiped out an entire RACE, how do you expect US to stop it?"
"Um." Tailgate makes a sound, but it's not clear if he is fully understanding or maaaay just be waiting for some more clarification. Somewhere. "Kidnapped. Cybertron dismantled? Only ten of us left?" Mild panic in his voice makes itself known. "This is a really terrible prank, you guys. I know I fell for the trick with the beeper and the wheels, but this is a little too far."
Drift holds up his hand. He only has one. Now this is more like the flood of questions he expected. "Well, it's all Rodimus' fault." Behind him Ratchet snorts because, well, it's true.
"...Well that part at least makes sense." Riptide quips, crossing his arms. Finally, something he can understand.
Ratchet steps forward, after his snort, to conduct the history lesson. He agreed to do it after all.
"Bear with me," he asks. He knows that it is a lot, to face the very visual extinction of their race but he knows some details will help.
"In the past - *your future* - Galvatron made his push to claim Earth. Why, we *still* don't know but the Lost Light arrived to stop him after those at Earth were lost. Galvatron wielded such power... But eventually, *somehow*, Rodimus defeated him at the cost of his own life. Earth was decimated. Their sun was corrupted and the planet adrift. Yet as rodimus lay dying he said to the humans present 'take from us what you need'."
"Surely he *meant* to learn from us but the humans proved to be ingenius, I guess.. considering we did it to them I don't know..."
Drift steps in to finish for Ratchet. "They took Rod's dying words as gospel and they *did it*. They saved themselves by salvaging Cybertronian tech - us - and lived. While that was happening Cybertron came under attack from within. It was... all consuming. Near the end Devastor ripped out the Heart of Cybertron, the very core of the planet. This plunged Cybertron into further madness which is when the Earth *arrived*. They plundered and took, and maybe their greed got the best of them because they started hunting us. This was thousands of years later for them but they were fueled by Rodimus' words. Now, ten of us are left. They hunt *us* because they think we have the Heart yet we think it's Earth."
"That'ls why we need you. We have a means to send you there - as robots in disguise - to walk among them. Find the Heart, and then we escape with it to rebuild Cybertron where they can't find us. We reignite the sparks and give rebirth to ourrace. If *you* help us."
"Wait." Knock Out holds up a hand. "/Wait/. The /humans/ decimated you? Because of //Rodimus//? And now you want /us/ to clean up /his mess/?" ///////
Slugfest eeees! "Hunted? This are like reverse Galaxy 999!" Slugfest exclaims. Yes, the little stego saw the movie where a robot named Count Mecha hunted Humans!
"Now now," Chromedome now-nows to Knock Out. "Rodimus's intentions were clearly pure."
Breakdown lowers his head, again not entirely unlike a bull lowering to charge, and blows a low ground snort of air hissing past his internal air compression systems, and goes, "Nngnnnnn." He slams his fist against his opposite palm.
If this were any other history lesson, Riptide would have fallen asleep halfway through. And honestly, he can feel his brain start to shut down. But he endures and rides out the explaination, rubbing his helm by the end of it. "So what you're saying is.. we have to go to Earth.. /again/.. and try to find this 'heart of cybertron' before the rest of you guys or killed off." He pauses, thinking, and just ends up sighing. "I guess we really don't have a choice, do we? Since I doubt you'll let us just opt out and go back to the 'past'."
Oh dear. Tailgate gives even more critical looks between Drift(?) and Ratchet(?), skepticism mixing with equal parts dread and excitement. If this is the real thing-- then it's really something. And that is putting it extremely mildly. "It shouldn't matter whose fault it was. If this is the real thing it's up to us to keep it from happening. Ten cybertronians. I've never met a human, but they sound like a disaster."
"I never liked 'em," Breakdown says with surly certainty. "I think we should blow 'em all up."
Slugfest tucks his feet under him. "No want be hunted." he says flatly.
Drift blinks as he answers Knock Out. "Ah, yes?"
Ratchet gives a better answer than his Captain. "They are, Tailgate, but not without reason. They faced extinctuion just as we do now. Their desperation is now our own. That is why... It is for our future. Your future too, if we understand the timelines properly. We hope to consult with Nautica about that but... from what we know, this is for all of us.We can rebuilt Cybertron. Drift believes we can ignite the sparkwaves again. This doesn't have to be the end." He almost sounds *hopeful* but maybe that's because he believes in this plan of his Captain's.
Chromia touches Breakdown's arm as a means to try and call his attention away from his thoughts. "What's this 'in disguise' nonsense?" She might be willing to help - mostly because it is a means to get home.
Ratchet answers her. "It's not just the humans that have stolen from us. One of us, our agent currently on Earth, was able to obtain some lost tech of theirs. We have modified it to allow us to interface with it. It was Life Model Decoy, or L.M.D. Not a clone but passable as human in every way. Only fully-functional Cybertronais can use them, which is why none of us (the survivors) can use them. Via your T-Cog, you can will a shape to this L.M.D. Instead of scanning a vehicle, you design your own human form. Then, posing as humans, you can visit the planet, learn the location of the Heart and return with it."
"Our mech on the ground believes he has a lead on where it is," Drift chimes in.
"What!" Breakdown dissolves into sputtering again.
"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Knock Out declares.
More science. Why does Riptide's life have to be filled with science? But it seems like he's sort of understanding as he speaks up, raising a hand before he does like this is MTO school all over again. "You mean like our holo-avatars?"
"Wow. I'm really not comfortable with this," says Chromedome. Uncomfortably.
Ratchet can answer Riptide. "Like, but not like. The holo-avatars are manifestitations of your psyche. These are physical forms. Bodies. You shape them with your will, but your subconscious. Once you 'select' a form, that is what it shall be. Now."
"There is a 'but' to this. You are linked to the L.M.D. If you were to lose an arm, like Drift, you might not lose it in your root form but your mind *could*... maybe.... we're not exactly sure... believe that your arm is not there so it could become non-funtional. So, I advise not being injured. Or killed." He adds, "Please, for your sake."
"Are you sure we can't just blow them all up?" To his probable credit, Breakdown does not actually appear to be proposing this as an option so much as he is ... grumbling. Warily. Infiltrating things is not typically what Breakdown is for. Dragging the point of his thumb in a long scrape over his knuckles, he stares dourly at Drift, who he appears to be eyeing more than Ratchet just on general principles.
THEN he stares at Ratchet. "You're sayin' we're going to be squishy like fragging squishy organics and it's going to scrap up our processors to the point that we're /really/ going to be squishy like fragging squishy organics and /that's/ how you want us to save /everything/?"
Tailgate hesitates to comment on all of this, briefly looking to Chromedome. He feels that. Uncomfortable. "This sounds really bizarre, not going to lie." That would be a first, you know. He presses his fingertips together, glancing down. "But if it brings back Cybertron for real, how can I even say no?"
Chromedome spreads his hands. "I don't like the idea of being more fragile than I am, but." He brief looks to Tailgate and then skims the rest of the crowd with a narrowed faceplate. "Of course we'll all do anything for Cybertron," is just that touch more cynic than is necessary.
Slugfest oooohs. "So will be new disguise?" Cuz, ya know, robots in disguise.
"Sorry, excuse me, I think we missed the part where we /decline/ and /go away/," Knock Out says, inserting himself back into the conversation.
"Do you really want to be around when these humans hunt you down, Knock Out?" Tailgate just assumes, helpfully, that Knock Out will die. Sure. Why not. For the point to be made.
"Essentially, yeah! It was my idea. So blame me if you must," Drift answers Breakdown with a smile. His best 'Rodimus would have approved of this plan if he hadn't died and caused all of this' smile.
Chromia just swims in a sea of 'too much' but there's one thing she *has* to focus on. Completing this how they get back. If she gets back and learns Windblade has been damaged while she was gone, she'll return to this future and murder the last of Cybertron for causing it. "Okay," is all she states.
Drift claps his hands to-... oh. right. One arm. He looks sad for a moment. "This way then," he says as he turns to lead the way. Ratchet follows because this is a medical thing he needs to medical over.
Drift leads them off the bridge and outside are... others. Seven others. They keep their distance and watch silently. These are the other survivors. There is (legless) Gears sitting in an oversized wheeled chair. There is Glyph, heavily patched with a thick brace around her throat. There is Mixmaster who mindlessly stumbles into a wall. There is Ravage, sporting his eyepatch. There is Skywarp, sitting in his jet mode.
There is Windblade, carrying Cyclonus' sword and wearing a bandage over her eyes. There is Bulkhead who looks to be barely held together.
"This way!" Drift waes them past into a room where there are makeshift beds for everyone. "Plug yourself in, connect to the L.M.D and concentrate on what you want to be. If you need assistance coming up with something there's visual aids." Human magazines are piled up around each of the beds. "when you'lre done, Skywarp will teleport you to Earth and we can get this underway."
"Besides." Riptide asides to Knock Out after Tailgate speaks. "We've done crazier things." Rubbing the back of his neck now, he just tags along with the rest of te group, his mind a bit busy trying to remember what humans look like and what he would end up making one look like. And.. then he starts to look worried when he sees the others and their various states of disrepair. "Primus, you guys are in rough shape.." As the should, seeing as they're the last ten in existance.
Turning to the beds, Riptide inches over to one and sits, not hooking up just yet and instead picking up a magazine to browse. It make take him a bit longer to do this since he's a few energons goodies short of a full container.
Chromedome follows Riptide's lead in the sense he trots directly for the magazines and browses. He holds the pages vertical. Flips.
Slugfest scampers after Future Drift as he leads them to where there are magazines! He ooohs and flips through magazine pages with a front feets. He points at a picture of a human with a golden retriever. "Oooh want that one!" he says, his toes pointing at the dog rather than the human.
Knock Out certainly does not hop right into one of those machines. Nor does he start perusing magazines. He keeps quite /away/ from those items and instead stands even closer to Breakdown than he is normally wont to do. "This is ridiculous," he hisses.
Breakdown's voice is a low rumble in his frame, its vibrations ground down to some lesser communication than words. The weight of his glare is leveled with Decepticonian democracy on everyone and their dog, but for Knock Out. What he says is silent, because he says it by taking Knock Out's hand and speaking in hand language. << Ideas? >>
Tailgate follows the others, lurking somewhat behind Chromedome as they come upon the other cybertronian survivors. He looks over each of them in turn, his empathy showing plain as day. He still can't seem to look at them for long, though. There's no reason to get invested-- they'll fix this. Of course they will. The minibot looks to Breakdown and Knock Out when the latter expresses more dismay, and looks politely away again when it's clear that privacy prevails. He settles down at one of the designated areas, slow to pick up some of the materials. "So these are humans. I thought they would be bigger." Scarier. Terrifying alien creatures as they are.
Chromia fights everything within herself to not rush to Future Windblade. It's physically hard to stop herself, but she does. That's when it hits her that Future Nautica... in a state of shock Chromia takes to her L.M.D. bed.
Once everyone is ready they will be gathered and asked, in their humanized bodies, to put a hand on Skywarp. "Stay close," he grumbles, bitter as ever. In a flash and *FHOOOOOOMMM!* the kidnapped Lost Lighters - human Transformers - will be whisked away from the Future Lost light to... Earth. It is an open field on a pleasant, sunny day. The air is so pure, filtered even. There's a hum to the background that is reminiscent of Cybertron. But this is Earth. In the near distance is the skyline of New New York, lined with spirals of human creation but look like they could belong back on Iacon - if it still existed.
No doubt there is a wealth of different sensory sensations to get used to. However, that is not all that awaits you to assault the senses. Waiting for you is none other than...
"About time." It's the /voice/. There's no getting away from the /voice/. Dark-skinned, sharp-toothed, the smiling figure that awaits them looks to be one of the terrifying humans of myth and legend. But the /voice/--
Broad shoulders mimic the span of a flier's wings; lean strength suggest the agility of a flight frame. He throws his arms wide, as though it were his planet to introduce to them, and says, "Welcome to Earth. Let's get started. We've got a lot of work to do."