Cheetor had never really believed in the saying 'struck dumb with amazement.' Like so many of those gifted with, shall we say, 'loose tongues,' he was never bereft of words no matter how spectacular the sight, or incredible the situation. Nonetheless, the sight that greeted his eyes now left him quite speechless.
It was not merely the immenseness of the cavern he found himself in, nor even the air of something ancient and undisturbed. It was the fact that the cavern seemed entirely constructed of energon crystals. Sparkling, stable energon crystals. The faceted substance climbed the walls into the shadowed roof of the cavern, and carressed every surface with a gentle violet glow. The cool, dry air of the cavern throbbed with power.
"Ultra gear!" He breathed, finally finding his voice. His words bounced off the walls, echoing around him and deeper into the cavern. Seemingly of their own volition, his feet moved forward, taking him further into the cavern, and then--
No! Behind you! The warning surrounded him, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. More disturbing, however, was the high-pitched whine that accompanied the words.
Instinct alone saved him.
Cheetor dove forward, rolling across the worn stone floor of the cavern scant seconds before several laser bolts struck the space where he had been standing, filling the air with the faint scent of ozone and charring the stone black.
"Automated defenses. Oh, that's cute, real cute. Maximize." Deprived of the element of surprise, Blackarachnia's
'defense system' was next to useless, and soon lay in a smoldering heap near the mouth of the cavern. "Score one for the kitty."
Slowly, deliberately, It strecthed out Its senses, dismayingly weak as they were. Almost afraid of what It would find, It searched for the Presence of the Seer, silently praying to whatever benevolent deities might be listening. Relief flooded through It as It sensed the Seer, his Presence a bright and shining light against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm It.
Help me.
Again, out of nowhere the soft cry for help washed over him, fainter than before. Cheetor turned, expecting to see someone behind him, but was greeted only with the sight of more of the energon crystals. "Who's there?" he called warily, bringing his weapon to bear again.
It seemed someone sighed softly behind him, but when he
turned he was only vaguely surprised to find no one. "All right,
this is gettin' old! Show yourself!" he demanded, unreasonable
anger surging through him.
Even through the overwhelming weakness, It was amazed at what It sensed. Such power in this one! Yet it was obvious the Seer had had no training, no guidance; such a thing was unheard of! For one possessed of the Sight, he was surprisingly blind. But now was not the time for idle musings. The voices of Its children were fading with terrifying speed, and soon they would be silenced forever.
Slowly, painfully, It gathered what little strength It had left, and reached out...
Rattrap had, in the last few months, had his life in immediate danger of termination countless times. Of course, all those times he or his teammates had been in a position to do something about it. Thus, being able to do nothing but wait around for the death-blow was starting to get to him.
"Shields are holding... for now," Rhinox called wearily. "Couple more blasts like that though..." He let the sentence trail off, unwilling to give voice to the thought.
"So basically, all we can do is sit here and cross our fingers?"
"Basically."
"Well, ain't that just peachy." Rattrap would have continued with the tirade, but the now familiar squeal of the Predacon's new weapon was heard even through the thick walls of the Axalon, and the ship shuddered violently as the beam slammed into them. "Yeesh, this is gettin' monotonous," he grumbled as he and the others were thrown to the floor.
"Agreed," Optimus replied, hauling himself to his feet. "Rhinox, is there any way we can boost the shields?"
"I've been trying. The only thing left to do is shut down the non-essential systems and divert the power."
"Do it." The order was unecessary, however, for Rhinox was already typing furiously at his station. Within a few seconds, the effects became obvious as station after station shut down, leaving only the sensors and shields running. Lastly the lights flickered and died, leaving the helm lit only by the dim glow of the functioning panels.
"Well, look at it 'dis way. 'Least now we won't have to see it when we die."
"Shut up, Rattrap."
As long as he lived, Cheetor knew he would never be able to describe it. Nor would he ever be able to forget it. Something... connected with him, and suddenly a tidal wave of unfamiliar thoughts, memories, and feelings flooded through his mind, unlike anything he had ever felt before.
PAIN! TERROR! GRIEF! the emotions ripped through him without warning, and sent him crashing to his knees.
Waves of crippling pain radiated through whatever link had been established, and beneath it was an agonizing pull . For one timeless instant, Cheetor felt as though someone were draining him of his very lifeforce. Then the onslaught abated somewhat, though the link remained. Help me. Gods above young Seer, make it stop! the Voice pleaded once again, alarmingly faint.
"How? What do I have to do?" Even as he asked the question, he realized he had not spoken the words aloud. And the truly frightening thing was that it seemed only natural to do so.
What's going on here? he thought to himself.
It hastily drew back when It realized the link was hurting the Seer... Cheetor, Cheetor was his name. How had he managed to draw so much from the gentle contact It had initiated? Oh, It would enjoy speaking with this one when it was over. Help me. Gods above, young Seer, make it stop!
How? What do I have to do? With an end to the ordeal in sight, It strained to answer, to make Itself heard one more time. It raged against the drain, struggling to muster one more ounce of strength, but for naught. It had nothing left to give.
Forgive me, my children. And then...oblivion.
"Ah, the thrill of victory." Megatron eyed the Axalon hungrily, impatient for the fall of his enemies. An agitated chittering drew his attention away from the buckling shields of his prize. "What is it now?" he snapped. Tarantulas frowned at the screen in front of him, not wanting to believe the readings. Blackarachnia leaned casually against the side of their weapon, a carefully hidden look of amusement on her face.
"They've boosted their shields," she said airily, delighting in the outrage that crept over Megatron's features.
"Blast! Can you counter it?" Tarantulas nervously scanned the energy readouts again, hoping against hope that by some miracle they were wrong. They weren't.
"N-not without another power cell; we've used up most of the reserves," he said nervously. Megatron ground his teeth in anger, but willed himself to remain calm. Mustn't let anything get in the way of his victory, no.
"Very well, continue with the assault, and radio Terrorsaur to bring another power cell," he barked, though he was loathe to trust Terrorsaur with any task, much less something as important as the fall of the Maximals.
"Of course, Megatron. The device should have nearly charged another cell by now." Megatron ignored him and returned his gaze to the helpless ship below him. Not long now, Primal, noooo, he chuckled to himself. His private celebration was cut short however, when the ground heaved beneath him and the terrain as far as the eye could see began trembling with terrible force. Large cracks appeared in the earth, throwing dust clouds into the air, and for a moment, Megatron was sure he heard something, as though thousands of voices began screaming at once.
Forgive me, my children. The words floated through his mind, filling Cheetor with mute horror. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why, but he knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Wait! C'mon don't give up now!" Cheetor waited, but not the faintest murmur answered him. The glow of the energon crystals around him began to flicker abruptly, dimming even as he watched. So absorbed was he in the spectacle, that he didn't notice the soft rumblings that were beginning under his feet. Indeed, his first indication that anything was happening was the lurching upheaval of the ground, and the deadly shower of falling energon crystals that rained down from the cavern's roof.
Earthquake! The panicked thought skipped through his mind and was gone as he threw himself to the stone floor, which was bucking and tossing beneath him as though it had acquired life. But why? What had happened? Cheetor had no time to dwell on the questions as he dodged out of the path of a particularly large chunk of crystal. And amazingly, as he was rolling over the unsteady floor, the answer came to him, as answers tend to do once you stop looking for them. He knew what he had to do, no matter how frightening the thought, without really knowing where the knowledge had come from.
He staggered to his feet and began clumsily searching for the link the Voice had made, praying it was still there. He sensed it finally, and faint tug on the back of his mind, though he was beyond questioning how in the name of the Matrix he had managed to do any of what he had done in the past half hour. He froze in the middle of the cavern, beneath perilously hanging energon crystals that threatened to tumble down upon him at any moment, and opened himself completely to the link, letting it blot out all other awareness.
It was as if he had been blind all his life and truly opened his eyes for the first time. He saw things he had thought to exist only in dreams as clear as day, felt and heard things he never knew were there. Most striking of all, however, were the lines of pure power that ran throughout the cavern, pulsing with inner light, and converging in the center of the crystals, only to branch out again and vanish at different points. He knew with an uncanny conviction that he was seeing the very life of the planet he and his teammates had crashed down upon, the energy that kept it going. Now he knew the cause for the death and decay all around him. For all intents and purposes, the Predacons had slit the planet's throat, allowing its lifeblood to pour out into whatever twisted scheme they had come up with. Now he knew the Voice... the heart and mind of the planet itself, the energon.
At any other time, he might have stood in awe of what he had discovered, but the lines of life-giving power were disappearing before his very eyes, and the ground shuddered and groaned as the the life of the planet and all its inhabitants slowly drained away. That could not be allowed.
Inwardly steeling himself for the inevitable pain, he instinctively focused on the pull that had caused such agony earlier, pouring himself into the link and reinforcing it as it too, began to crumble. Suddenly, there it was; a dark, cold void in the energy of the cavern, sucking at the lines of power like some kind of leech. The drain tried to draw him in as well, and for a moment he teetered on the brink of the same bottomless oblivion the Voice had surrendered to. He fought against it with every ounce of the willful spirit that got him into so much trouble, fought against it and won, pulling back from the void.
Now that he knew the location of the problem, it was easy to find the device affixed to one particularly large energon crystal. It was a shiny, oblong contraption, stealing the life from the planet and pumping it into a number of portable power cells at its base, which no doubt provided the energy for the Predacon's 'super-weapon.' A weapon that was probably in the process of disintegrating Sentinel's shields, Cheetor realized with a start. How long could his friends hold out against such power?
"Gotta hurry," he whispered, as the urgency of the situation crashed down upon him even as the roof of the cavern tried to do the same. He darted forward, narrowly avoiding yet another chunk of crystal that likely would have crushed him, and came to a stop in front of Blackarachnia's machine. Only the softest spark of the energon's former majestic glow could be discerned in the crystals around him; he was almost out of time! Cheetor forced the apprehension growing in him aside and studied the device critically.
"Aw man, where's Rhinox when you need him?" The shaking was becoming more violent by the second, and Cheetor could just barely make out the few shreds of late afternoon sunlight that filtered in through the many hairline cracks that were appearing in the ceiling. There was no time to think....he could only act and hope for the best. "Oh yeah, now there's a plan," he growled to himself, but he was out of options. He stared at the mass of wires and connections of the power cells and mentally threw his hands in the air- there was no way he'd be able to figure out how to disconnect it!
A chunk of rock suddenly struck his shoulder, almost
forcing him to drop his laser. More and more rocks were raining down
upon him, and it was obvious the ceiling would not be able to
withstand the stress much longer. Cheetor through one last helpless
glance at the machine and brought his weapon to bear. "Well, when in
doubt, blow it up," he murmured, and fired.
"Earthquake! Everyone hold on," he called unecessarily; his crew had a collective deathgrip on anything and everything within reach.
"Geez, talk about bad karma. What else could go wrong?" Rattrap asked rhetorically, clinging to the console in front of him.
Shut UP, Rattrap!"
"Slag!" he shouted, as the resulting wave of pure energon slammed into him, and battered him mercilessly. Oh it was a thousand times worse than before, as though he had been thrust into the heart of a sun.
Pain
enveloped him, and drowned out everything else. It couldn't have
lasted more than a few seconds, but to Cheetor it felt like years.
His last coherent thought before he surrendered to the waves of agony
and the panic they caused was that he'd be impossibly lucky if it
were only his sight affected this time.
It was therefore shocked when the pull was suddenly interrupted, and the void began to brighten. Miracle of miracles, It felt the power, the energy, the life flooding back into It. Sweet joy flowed through It as It sent out a mental call to Its children, and heard their voices answer back, growing stronger by the second. The Seer, he had done it! The Seer.....
It stretched out Its senses, relishing the feel of Its energy and strength returning, and searched for him. After only a few moments, It found him.
Gods above! There was no way he'd be able to survive the backwash of energy he had unleashed in saving It. Well, the Seer had saved Its life, It would just have to return the favor...
Are you badly injured, young Seer? Cheetor was too tired to fire off anymore questions at the disembodied voice that was floating through his mind. In truth, he was getting used to having conversations with the air.
"I'll live. How 'bout you?" An impression of soft laughter, and then...
I too, will live, as you put it. Thanks to you, young Seer.
The heartfelt gratitude that accompanied the last statement almost made up for all the trouble of the day. The last of the energon surge spent itself, and the gentle shields that had been erected around him vanished. More importantly, the violent tremors had subsided and a deafening silence had replaced the roar of the crumbling earth.
"What ARE you?" he whispered at last, even the bone-deep exhaustion and damage of a semi-major energon overload unable to compete with his insatiable curiosity. Again, the warm laughter.
I believe you already know the answer to that,
young Seer...Cheetor. I am that which is all around you, I am that
which flows through every living being on this planet, I...am the
Guardian.
"Tarantulas! What in the name of the Pit is going on?" Megatron bellowed as the shaking grew in force. Any reply his scientist might have made was lost in the tortured groans of the planet. It seemed as though the very ground beneath them would be ripped apart. And then...it stopped. Not slowed, not decreased in force, it stopped, and left a shattering stillness behind. The Predacons lurched to their feet in amazement, unsure of what to make of the strange earthquake. "Report!" Megatron barked. Tarantulas studied the small console in front of him for a moment, before sighing in relief.
"No damage to the weapon Megatron, power cells are depleted however."
"Blast. Where is that traitorous excuse for a toaster?" The
leader of the Predacons grumbled.
"Is it- over?" Airazor asked hesitantly.
"Looks like it," Rhinox answered, heaving a sigh of relief. "The Preds seem to have lain off as well."
"They were undoubtedly hit harder by the earthquake," Dinobot rasped from behind him, his eyes narrowed in speculation.
"Hey, speakin' of which, how 'da heck did that happen?" Rattrap demanded a moment later. Rhinox was about to reply, but was cut off by Dinobot.
"That does not matter now. The Predacons are most certainly disoriented, we should counter attack!"
"Yo Chopperface, does the word 'suicide' mean anything t'you?" Rattrap intoned sarcastically.
"It is better than sitting around here waiting for them to regain their position!" Beside them, Tigatron barely stifled a groan. Only those two would be able to argue at a time like this. Even with his own natural tranquility, it was all he could do to keep from throttling them both. Tigatron forced himself to bring his temper into check; his patience was being brought to the breaking point by the Predacons, and his deep concern for Cheetor was piling on top of it. Tigatron recalled the purposeful determination of Cheetor's flight from the Axalon well. His reckless protege was out to do something. But what? Tigatron was brought out of his reverie by Optimus' firm voice ending the argument between Rattrap and Dinobot.
"Much as I hate to say it, Dinobot's right, we have to launch a
counter strike while we still can. Prepare for battle."
And the Predacons had come within inches of destroying everything.
But they did not succeed, young Seer.
"Why do you keep calling me that, anyway?" The Voice was silent for a moment, as though It had not expected him to ask such a thing.
It is what you are, came the puzzled reply. You have seen beyond what others do ever since you landed here, have you not?
Cheetor shifted uncomfortably at the obvious mention of his odd night visions. "Sight? What's that?" Cheetor wasn't sure he liked the implications of this conversation. Sure, he had vivid dreams, but that didn't mean anything.
Nothing at all...
There has never been anyone to tell you these things, has there? the Voice whispered in naked shock. How can that be?
"Look, you wanna tell me just what you're talking about?"
From the beginning of time there have been those gifted with the Sight. In ancient times they were the most highly respected people of any society- the ones to whom the very soul was an open book. It is, sad to say, a rarity now, which is perhaps why your talents have gone unnoticed.
"Whoa, whoa, I don't believe what I'm hearin'! That's something out of a holo-comic!
The Guardian was unsurprised by his lack of belief. It had seen many other Seers react in much the same way. Well, let him believe what he wanted. The truth would make itself known eventaully.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" A harsh, grating voice souded from behind Cheetor and he whipped around in surprise. He was met by the all too familiar sight of a particularly annoying Predacon.
"Terrorsaur," he growled. The bright red Predacon sauntered into the cavern, his weapons aimed and locked on Cheetor.
"Talking to yourself, eh kitty? That's the first sign of insanity, you know," Terrorsaur mocked, an insufferably smug grin plastered on his face. Cheetor discreetly glanced around for an avenue of escape.
"Really? Gee, I thought it was talking to you," he tossed back flippantly. Come on, make a mistake you overgrown chicken, he silently prayed, finding himself at a distinct disadvantage.
I cannot help without harming you both! The Voice wailed softly, an almost palpable distress evident in Its words. Still staring warily at Terrorsaur, Cheetor sent a silent reply back to the Guardian, mentally crossing his fingers as he told It what he wanted It to do. Good luck young Seer, the Voice whispered, and began.
Terrorsaur gasped as all around him the pulsing light of the energon suddenly flared into a blinding glow, and he instinctively raised an arm to shield his optics. Which, in turn, left Cheetor a much needed opening. Terrorsaur heard the Maximal an instant before he slammed into him, tackling them both to the ground.
"Oh, you'll pay for this, pussycat," Terrorsaur grunted as Cheetor drew his laser cannon. Terrorsaur instanly gripped the barrel, and the two began wrestling for control of the weapon. Cheetor, however, was beginning to truly feel the effects of the damage he'd suffered before the Guardian had been able to protect him from the energon surge and Terrorsaur quickly gained the upper hand. With a triumphant cry, he sent Cheetor's weapon skidding into the shadows of the base of a few large energon crystals. Cheetor found himself in a similar position across the room a moment later, reeling from a solid kick to his midsection.
"This is just not my day," he moaned through gritted teeth.