Chapter 2 - The Offer

Earth

The familiar sound of helicopters echoed across the town as it lay dormant, sleeping away the torment of the day. Adjusting their trajectory and height, a pair of military choppers slowly ascended. Most people wouldn't find anything odd about the AH-1W Super Cobra or the Bell UH-1C Huey Hog, but, having been born and raised in a world of nothing but war, they'd have realised there was something very off about them. Especially the anorexic looking AH-1W, which was not painted in military colours, but was of a blue colour, that was not in the least bit camoflauged, even on a clear blue day. The Huey Hog that flew by its side bore the familiar teeth of combat on its nose. Both choppers looked scarred and just about ready to drop from the sky as they continued their ever growing pace in descent, the nearby lake just beyond the outskirts of the town seeming like their target of approach.
''You think they're still here?'' The AH-1W asked his battered comrade.
''If they'd have left, we'd have picked it up by now.'' The Bell UH-1C replied evenly, optics fixed firmly on his destination.
The pair made a slight adjustment in their flight and circled around, re-adjusting their trajectory to the opposite side of the lake, where the trees were undeniably thick. It would be the most logical of places to have an entrance. As they flew over the dark waters of the large lake, a flurry of bubbles broke the surface. Neither Autobot noticed, or if they did, they dismissed it.



''I'd dearly appreciate it if you held it still, Speeder.'' Flashpoint stated flatly, trying to keep his irritation at bay.
The sleek blue and silver form of Speeder fidgeted again, almost dropping the large cylindrical piece of metal on the transformed fire engine's head. With a growl from Flashpoint, Speeder retained his steady stance once more. He'd much rather be outside with Galaxy, putting the finishing touches on the outer hull of the newly built ship. The build had been incredibly difficult, since their original ship had pretty much been written-off when the systems failed upon entry of Earth's atmosphere, rendering them face first in the dirt and rock, the remains of an old mine, which they later discovered had been deemed as the perfect temporary home of Krusher's team, who'd taken up inhabitance of the opposite side. It still ground on the nerves of the Autobots that Krusher's gaggle of Decepticons had come into possession of a Space Bridge somehow, but that was their mission objective; Destroy Krusher and his team, retrieve the Space Bridge and return to Cybertron, a prospect, when thought about seriously enough, seemed like a distant dream.
''Sorry.'' Speeder muttered.

Flashpoint got back to welding the pipe into place and almost seared his fingertips off with the sharp flame when an alarm went off.
''What's that?'' He asked, slightly puzzled. Then it clicked. ''OH! Alarm! I remember now!'' Flashpoint abandoned his work and hurried off towards the bridge, leaving Speeder in the newly constructed engine room on his own, holding a half welded pipe.
''Uh, you realise that if I let this go, it's technically not my fault, right?'' Speeder called after the retreating back of his comrade. ''Hello? .... At least lemme know what's happening!''
His voice fell short of Flashpoint, who was already nearing the bridge, befuddlement flooding his mind. He approached the doors and they slid open on cue and he stepped onto the bridge. A slight feeling of awe washed through him as he looked about. It'd been a while since he'd been on the bridge, having spent most of his time with the engines, reconstructing them and reconfiguring them back into the ship. The sight before him, he decided, was a credit to Galaxy's underlying creativity and Deadmetal's secret intelect. The foreport was wide and sprawling, giving a massive view of what was outside. Consoles lined the edges neatly, with two smaller stations sat side - by - side just before the commanding chair that sat atop the first metallic terrace he was now stood on. It wasn't brightly lit like most ships for a reason. And that reason was occupying the command chair; Raid, leader of this small group of Autobots. In the last scuffle with the Decepticons, he'd lost his sight, his optics too damaged to be repaired away from Cybertron.

But somehow he'd managed, having learned to differentiate the dark, almost nonsensical blobs from the multitude of whites that he said made up the background of things. Flashpoint had decided it would be too difficult to explain it to the others, instead putting it in a way they would understand; Raid could technically see, just in black and white patches. Flashpoint had rigged up each access panel and console with something he called an Optic Visualiser, which allowed Raid to connect to the ship's sensors and see that way. Right now, he was sat in his chair, plugged in, a set of thin wires snaking from the right side of the chair and into the side of his head. He was quite comfortable, and although not content with having his vision limited to the ship's line of sight, he was content enough to not complain. At least, not in front of everyone.
''What's going on?'' Flashpoint asked, walking up to stand beside Raid.
''We have two inbounds. They've yet to make contact.'' Raid replied simply, his blue optics focused on a point beyond the water-distorteed bulky figure of Galaxy who was now doing something to the nose of the ship. ''I've aleardy alerted Deadmetal and Galaxy about it. I'm sure it's nothing they can't handle.''
''I certainly hope so. The last thing we need is trouble, what with having lost access to the caverns in the mines.''
''The re-build is one schedule?'' Raid prompted lightly.
''Yes.''

''Then we will follow Krusher and make his life an utter misery until we get the Bridge back. After all, that Bridge was Autobot property in the first place, and if we don't get it back, just think about how ol' Chassis will react.'' Raid said, with a slightly humourless grin.
A cold shudder ran through Flashpoint's circuitry. Chassis, even though he was old and creaky and couldn't care less anymore, wasn't one to annoy in any way, shape or form. The results of the punishments for failure could be messy.
''I'm wondering about how he'll react when he finds out you're blind...'' Flashpoint said mindlessly, then grimacing inwards when he realised what he just said.
Much to his relief, his old friend took it in his stride, just as he did with everything else in life.
''I'm sure it'll provide him with ample fodder for the imminent I told you so's.''
''Boss, I've just collected the two new-commers.'' Deadmetal's voice said, cutting into the growing conversation. ''They're Autobots from the Eastern base.''
''Designations?''
''Gundog and Blue Falcon.'' Came the reply.
''What condition are they in?'' Flashpoint asked.
''Not good. They say they're the only survivors of a Decepticon attack.''

Raid cast a glance at Flashpoint, who in return felt a slight pang of helplessness under that now almost lifeless stare. The lenses were glowing blue, but there was no focus in the optics. If only we were back on Cybertron, this might never have happened... He found himself thinking morosely.
''Bring them in.'' Raid ordered, fixing his near sightless stare back out the foreport as he let the ship do the seeing for him.
''I'll go get my equiptment ready. The sooner they're repaired, the sooner they can tell us what went on.'' Flashpoint and strode off the bridge, making a bee-line for his newly refurbished medical bay.



Cybertron

An array of sensations finally returned to Flare bit by bit, as she slowly started checking her systems. All seemed to be working effectively, which came as a mild surprise, since the last thing she could remember was heat and pain. So much heat and pain. Above her she could hear sounds. Muffled voices were slowly becomming clearer as her newly repaired audio receptors came back online. Then her vision went from blackness to static then to a crisp, crystal clear vision of the wire and pipe riddled roof above her. The voices stopped. She could feel two sets of lenses on her, watching her. Her own lenses swivveled from side to side, scanning as much of the room as possible without actually having to sit upright.
''I see that she is still online.'' Said a gruff voice.
There was a pause then a reply.
''It was a challenge, the fire had done significant damage to her systems, but y'know me. I never back down on a challenge.'' An older sounding voice said.
Flare decided to stay silent. They were not voices she recognised and that made her extremely nervous.
''I'm sure that she'll make a fine edition to the ranks, with a little training of course.'' Said the same voice.

Flare decided she couldn't stand it any longer. She needed to know where she was, and who had repaired her and was talking about her. She pulled herself upright and looked around. She was in a shoddily constructed medical bay, but looks aside, she knew it did its job efficiently. Afterall, she was still online after a horrific attack.
''It's good to see you still alive...'' The medic faultered, giving her a questioning look.
Flare stayed silent. Until she knew who these people were and why she was there, she wasn't saying her name.
''Why am I here?'' She said instead.
The medic looked at the bulky, deep purple figure stood beside him. She followed his silver lensed gaze and realisation set in.
''You're Decepticons...'' She said in a near whisper, sliding slowly from the operating table and backing up a few paces.
''Just because we are Decepticons, doesn't mean we wish to harm you.'' He said, trying to look harmless, a feat easier said than done. ''My name is Crash, and I am commander of this humble little band of Decepticons.'' He said with a slight bow. ''And this is my good friend, Propshaft. He repaired you and brought you back from the brink.''
Flare just stared at him, silently scrutinizing him from what she considered to be a relatively safe distance in such a confined space.
''If you're going to try and persuade me to join with you--''
''I would never dream of it, my dear.'' Crash cooed innocently. ''I was merely going to suggest it, leave the offer open, since you were left behind by your so-called Autobot friends.''

''They didn't leave me behind...'' She faultered, remembering the sight of her brother, Solar, turning tail and flying away, leaving her to die in the Energon fuelled flames.
''We've seen the footage from a security chip one of our men managed to salvage from the wreckage of your village.'' Propshaft interjected. ''The figure was partially obscured by the fire, but it was definately someone who looked very much like yourself on there.''
''I don't believe you... My brother would never leave me behind.'' Flare protested.
Crash and Propshaft exchanged looks again. Propshaft walked over to an old, battered computer unit in the far corner, pressed a few buttons and the old screen beside Crash lit up with stuttered action. The images were fuzzy with static and fire dominated one side of the screen. But it was just as Propshaft had said. There was a figure who looked like her, and he did turn tail and flee. She suddenly felt very alone and hurt as if someone had just severed a limb. She looked from the old screen and then looked at the two Decepticons.
''You may leave if you wish, but even our best scouts don't know where your villagers have re-located to.'' Crash said, stepping to one side, leaving the doorway very much open, and inviting.
Flare took a step forward, then hesitated.
''No one will harm you. You are free to leave if you wish to do so. Burnout is by the main gates, ready and waiting to take you back to your old village.'' Crash prompted. Flare hesitated a moment longer. ''On the other hand, there's always room for one more, and our dear Megatron would be ever so greatful if you were to hear out our side of the story, and help us in our quest for peace.''
''Decepticons fighting for peace...?'' She snorted. ''Yeah, right.''

''Oh, but it's true.'' Crash said. ''If you will just give us a moment of your time to hear us out, then you may leave, if you do so choose.''
She paused and thought about it a moment, weighing up her options, and thinking about where her village could have re-located to. With each though, she drew a blank. The image of seeing her brother leaving her behind to die a painful death started to form a cold knot inside.
''Fine. It's not as if I have anything better to do right now.'' She grumbled.
After all, it would be rather interesting to hear the story from the opposite side.

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