Fic: Plumbing the Depths

[Javelin]

Part One
 Pre-War Cybertron



Drip.

Drip drip.

The sound of a liquid falling somewhere in the darkness echoed back to Javelin as she slowly made her way along the old corridor.

She held up her torch, shining it before her, studying the cracked tiles of the floor for any seeping or puddles that could alert her to flooding.  The last thing she wanted was to stumble into an old acid pool. Even after all this time, it could still do damage to her feet.

She grinned, "And to think Sideways didn't want to join me.  Eh, his loss."

Her voice echoed eerily in the crumbling hallway, bouncing back to her in a rather dead manner. 

Not letting it put her off, she kept walking, adjusting the braided wire rope looped over a shoulder, and the containers she carried as well.

This was the third set of ruins she had found this far out near the Sea of Rust since she had been hired to search for energon.  She had found no energon, just an old rampway leading down into the depths, half choked with debris, dust and fallen metal plating.  From the lack of tracks, Javelin knew the place was virtually unknown, and she would keep it that way.  She was paid to look for energon, not let the Council know about ruins.  She doubted they'd care, anyway. Dusty, dirty...the higher, elites never did care about just where their treasures came from.

The treasures, now, well...that was another story.

Old artwork, ledgers, knowledge and information. Those things the Towerlings were always interested in. Ask no questions, and she gave no answers. She brought out the things she thought would bring the most money, cleaned them up, and sold them.

It wasn't exactly illegal.  Javelin had actually tried to let the Council know about the things she sometimes found before.  She assumed they would go in and get what they could. Bring it out, put it in a museum where the Cybertronians could look at it, and try to understand their past.  So little was known about those ruins. Who had lived there, and where had they gone?

To say she had been disappointed when the items she brought out from the ruins had just....vanished...was an understatement.  While no one would actually answer her questions, she was pretty sure they had just ended up in some high society's private collection somewhere, shown only to others in the elite circles over high grade energon during parties.

Javelin turned a corner, keeping her lamp held high, still watching for puddles or even trip wires.

Just who would actually trap an old, abandoned place like this was beyond her, but she had managed to set off one a few cycles back.  She had just managed to jump out of the way before tons of  stone and charred metal had come crashing down, raising a cloud of dust that obscured her vision.  She hadn't been able to do much more at that point other than leave and wait for it to settle.

No traps seen, she kept moving forward, casting her senses out around her, searching for open areas, or even, sometimes, hidden rooms.

It was only another breem before her internal senses told her it was time to head back out.  It would be getting late soon, and Backdraft would start to worry.

Javelin stopped, putting the lantern on the floor, and removed the rope and containers.  Checking around, she found a suitable  debris pile to slip them behind, then taking a few other bits and pieces lying around, she made a small pile to the side.

Her marker, to tell her where she left off. Up to this point, she knew it was safe to proceed.

*********
Kaon

"Hey Jav'lin, you slummin' out here wid us again? Dun ya have a home, or were ya kicked out?"

Pushing open the door to the ugly, squat apartment building, Javelin paused, looking behind her to see a huge mech striding up towards her. His black paint was chipped and there were a few buckles in places where his mesh had obviously been caught in some sort of pressurized zone.  Huge hands that seemed out of place even for his large frame dangled at his sides.  His peds literally thundered as he walked towards her.

Walking up to her, he literally loomed over her like a small building, looking almost straight down at her.  His face, having seen one too many impacts from tools, stone, metal, and the occasional fist, was a little warped itself.

The smile there, a few large gaps here and there, however, was broad and genuine.

"Hey Hammerfist," Javelin grinned up at him, servos on her hips, "How's it going?"

"Eh. You know," the miner raised a massive servo, held it out before him, palm down, and rocked it from a side to side in a "so-so" manner, "Haven't gotten laid off yet, at leas', not like the othas." His voice was gravelly like the stone and metal he worked with daily.

The smile left Javelin's face, "Another round of layoffs? Who?"

"Smokestack's crew. Said tha' mine was empty now, pulled em all out. I was just talkin' to him in the bar there."

Javelin shook her head, peering past Hammerfist to look down the street. It was night now, and the streetlights had come on, flickering and sickly, casting poor illumination on the area, "Any word on if they're being moved to a new mine?"

"Not yet. We can hope, though, right?"

Javelin just mutely nodded.

There was an awkward silence, then Hammerfist moved, taking ahold of the doorway, opening it wider, "Well, go on up, girl, get yer aft up there. Backdraft's prob'ly worried."

Javelin chuckled, "Yeah, he probably is, the glitch."

Hammerfist held the door as she slipped around his bulk and moved into the hallway. It was large, clearly designed for people of Hammerfist's size and bulk, and not hers.  The hallway was in bad need of a painting, and cracks were running along the length.  It might have been new several Deca-cycles ago. Now it was a mess. But from the sounds of blaring music and other assorted sounds coming from behind the faded and heavily locked doors, was still very occupied.

"Hey now, dun' say that. 'Draft's a good one, he is. Tryin' to keep his head above summa the garbage swirlin' aroun here."

Javelin paused in front of a faded green door. The peephole had been broken long ago, and was patched with a simple piece of metal welded on.  The numbers 15 were still there, although the "5" had somehow been bent slightly, and now it looked more like a sad attempt at an S.

Removing a long, slender slab of metal with several notches on it, Javelin slid it into a port in the middle of the door, listening to the assorted clicks and clacks coming from the other side.

"Yeah, he is," she smiled, "He's doing good."

Hammerfist offered her a lopsided, cracked smile, and patted her, a little hard, on her shoulder, before moving on down the hallway, starting to hum a racous ditty to himself.  Loudly.

Smiling, Javelin opened the door, and entered.

(to be continued)

[Javelin]

Part Two

Javelin closed the door behind her with a click, making sure to reengage all the locks. She slid her key back into one of the compartments by a hip, pausing long enough to wipe her peds on a somewhat battered mat on the floor, scraping off dust and dirt from the streets.

The room she was in was small, though the ceiling was very high, made for Cybertronians much larger than she was. Furniture was sparse, but again, heavy and thick, far more utilitarian than artistic. The walls were a sad, sickly green, chipped here and there, although a few small pictures of distant places were hung, as if in a tired attempt to make the place cheery. Two large chairs and a table stood in a corner, a battered video monitor that was on mute but showing what appeared to be a news section. A single window, the glass glazed slightly with age, looked out onto the street outside, a single shutter inside drawn back to allow full access to the window. One wall was a section of cupboards and drawers. An archway in the left wall gave access to another room, and from this area came the general sound of muted cursing.

Javelin chuckled, walking to one of the chairs and sitting. She was somewhat dwarfed by the furniture, almost able to pull up her legs and sleep in a ball in the thing if she had needed to. She noticed the table had several sheets of paper on it - advertisements, from the looks of it, notices, and general bits of information. Turning her attention to the video monitor, she squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. It looked like there had been a fight somewhere, involving several people. They were throwing things around, including a trash can, that went through a store window.

Another curse from within the archway, and an angry mentallic thump, “Stupid fragging piece of gear, never does what it’s supposed to, and why am I even trying to make sense of this thing anyway!?”

“I have no idea,” Javelin called back, eyes still on the monitor, “You really need to let me take it out and get it fixed properly.”

There was a pause, and then the large orange mech walked out, attempting to wipe his servos on a piece of material. He was large and blocky, orange with green trim, large hands.  A silver nozzle jutted over his right shoulder, the only shiny thing on him. The his faceplate was a light grey, at odds with the rest of his coloring.  Large peds, he thumped heavily when he walked.  His blue optics focused on her, narrowed slightly, “About time you got back, you know what time it is?”


Not taking her eyes off the screen, nodded, “I had time before the gates closed, calm down. What’s going on here, a protest?”

Backdraft shrugged, tossing the material onto the table. He walked over and sat with a deep vent, glancing at the monitor for a minute, before looking back to her. When he spoke, his voice was a little gentler, “How was your day? Find any new energon sites?”

Javelin turned to him, grinning, “Good! And yes, I did. I already gave the coordinates to the Council. Even better, I went and checked out that old place I found. I have a good feeling about this, Backdraft. It looks old.”

There was another vent. The orange mech leaned back in his chair, blue optics narrowed on her again, “Javelin-”

“You have to trust me on this, Backdraft.”

“I do trust you, I do. But we still have money from the last stuff you sold. And you have a good job, you don’t need to be doing this. Jav….you’re going to end up getting hurt, you keep this up.”

The femme crossed her arms, looking at him, leaning back in her chair.

Backdraft’s orange paint was starting to chip away, the green trim looking well past it’s prime. Large hands were clasped together on the table, and his blue optics watched her, the look changing from one of concern to frustration, and his field mirrored that.

He had never, ever, been able to hide his field from her.

Javelin knew he worried. But she worried about him as well. One of the manual classes, a firefighter for the lower businesses and industrial sector, he faced danger a lot. And he was treated worse than the pets of some of the elites. He was barely given enough energon to keep himself going; just enough to do his job, and no more. And he deserved more. He was a sweet, kind-sparked person and he deserved better than this.

“I like doing this. It’s fun.”

Backdraft made a grunting sound, “ ‘Fun’, she says. Crawling around in old tunnels, dodging traps and only Primus knows what else. ‘Fun’, my aft.” He stood up, walking towards the row of cupboards. Javelin grinned, looking over her shoulder as he did.

“It’s a very nice aft.”

“Silence, you.”

She laughed.

Javelin watched as he poured up two glasses of energon, “Look. You know the plan. I get enough to get us a place anywhere but Kaon. You give up your job and look for one as a firefighter somewhere else, somewhere where they’ll treat you better. I’m making good money, ‘Draft, doing this. Another two or three sites like the last one and we’re golden! We can say goodbye to this place, and hello to a real life! Remember?"

[Javelin]

Part Three

Backdraft walked back over, and plunked one of the glasses down in front of her, his voice low, “I remember. It doesn’t mean I like it.”

“What, you’d rather stay here? Really?”

Backdraft lowered himself into the other chair, looking at the monitor. He watched some unknown individual yell something at the screen, then promptly get jumped by some police and wrestled to the ground.

“Maybe I just….”

“Just what?”

“Maybe I should stay here.” He lifted his optics and looked at her, “They’re not going to hire me outside of the Tagan Heights, Scoot. I’m not….their…type.”

Javelin stood up, her field jittering with anxious anger, starting to pace back and forth. Her peds clicked loudly on the bare metal floor, “First off, don’t call me Scoot, I hate that nickname. And…why are you saying this now all of a sudden? What’s for us here?”

Backdraft kept his eyes on the monitor, “For you? Nothing. You shouldn’t even be here. You’re still paying on your place in Nova Cronum, aren’t you? Are you still bribing the gate guards to let you in after dark, or are they not even bothering anymore?”

She turned, stopping her pacing, looking at him hard, “Don’t you start that. We’ve talked about this.”

Backdraft stood up, walking to the window. He looked outside for a minute, then closed it with a bang, “One of these days you’re going to get in trouble just for being here.”

Javelin snorted, servos on her hips, “It’s not illegal for an non-manual class to be in Kaon, Backdraft.”

Backdraft turned and looked at her, his field angry and stressed, “No, but it’s not normal. You stand out when you’re here. Someone’s going to try and rob you or something some day.”

“Pppft. You’re acting like I’m a member of the elite, up in the Towers, ‘Draft. Besides, they know I’m with you. And Hammerfist would personally tear up someone who tried.”

“You don’t understand,” the large orange and green mech said, lumbering over to sit again, “Things are…happening around here now. Something’s going on, and I don’t like it.”

Javelin frowned, moving to sit across from him, “What do you mean, going on?”

Backdraft vented a sigh, then raised his optics to look towards the monitor, “Things like that. Unrest. We were taking our break today, like usual, right? And this mech comes in. I’ve never seen him before. Big green guy. Starts talking to us, right? Asking about how we feel working here in Kaon. How we feel about the other cities, like Iacon, and why we should be allowed to live there if we wanted.”

“Good questions.”

Backdraft frowned at her, and kept talking, “Then he starts talking about the people that live there. Iacon. How they think they’re bettern’ us. How they look down on us, and think we’re like dirt. And then…then he starts talking about how someone should show them we’re not. Someone should show them the error of their ways.”
There was silence. Backdraft shifted, uncomfortable. His shield rippled with unease and discomfort, concern and worry.

“Starts saying there’s this group. Can’t remember the name. They’re gonna straighten up Cybertron. Make things right for everyone. Make everyone equal.”

Javelin watched him, greenish-blue optics on his face, “That…sounds good, though. Everyone should be equal.”

Backdraft shrugged, “Yeah, but….I dunno, Jav. The way he was talkin’. It made me nervous.”

Javelin looked to the silent monitor, with the news still reporting the protest, then back to him, “You think there will be trouble? The police will crack down real hard on anyone who does something like that.”

Backdraft was silent for a moment, then he leaned back, trying to shrug it off, trying to seem unconcerned now, “I dunno. Just…be careful when you’re walkin’ around here, yeah? And make sure you’re back here before it’s dark, from now on. Ok?”

She opened her mouth to protest. She was known here in this neighbourhood, and she doubted strongly anyone would try to hurt her just because she wasn’t forged to live there. It was stupid.

But she saw his face, and read his field, and he was worried. Javelin hesitated, then smiled, “Yeah, alright. I can do that.”

He smiled back at her, “Come on, then, drink up.”

(Cont)

[Javelin]

Part Four

(Three days later...)

Javelin picked up the lantern from where she laid it before, and lit it. It only took a moment to get herself ready again, slipping the rope back onto her shoulder and gearing up, and she was working her way forward again. It was easy enough to find where she had left off, and start along the path again, carefully picking her way over broken tiles and fallen debris, leaving faint tracks in the dirt and dust. She tried to keep an eye out for any traps.

Her mind, though, kept traveling back to the previous few days.

Things were changing, and not for the good.

There were more protests now. Mostly people from Kaon and the other industrial cities, protesting unfair conditions and poor energon supplies. To be honest, Javelin didn’t blame them at all. It was stupid to assume that a manual worker was somehow less deserving of a nice life than a microscope or flashy vehicle. If anything, the manual workers were contributing more to the society than the elites. All they did was have fancy parties and make rules that only affected themselves.

Both Javelin and Backdraft had attended a meeting two nights ago. It was being held by the individual who had approached Backdraft’s group before, talking about bringing about change for the better. It had been held in an abandoned, run-down old building, and the people that attended had made Javelin very uncomfortable.
The speaker, the one that had approached Backdraft’s group, had been called Lowball. At least that’s what he told everyone to call him - his actual name could have been something very different. He had arrived with what looked to Javelin like bodyguards, all about the size of Hammerfist, and mean-looking. The whole affair had had a very…illegal…air about it, and Javelin felt very uncomfortable about the entire thing, especially as Lowball had spoken about “taking what was theirs” and “forcing people to treat them with respect”. It sounded less and less like trying to be equals, and more and more like being an advocate for …..revenge. The large bodies were packed into a small area, mumbling to themselves. Javelin hadn't been able to see anything, she was in a sea of large bodies, and she kept getting jostled about as people tried to make their way to the front of the room.

It hadn’t helped that a good many of the attendees there had given Javelin dirty looks the entire time, clearly feeling she didn’t belong. As the speeches continued, the looks she was getting and more and more hostile. Normally confidant, she had found herself moving closer and closer to Backdraft’s side, until she finally ended up taking his servo in both hers, both for safety, and because she was afraid she was going to be separated from him in some manner.

When the meeting was over, many stayed behind to talk to Lowball, but Javelin wanted out, and she was relived to see Backdraft seemed to be of the same mind. Just getting out of the crush of bodies gave Javelin a feeling of freedom, and she had to quell a desire just to spread her arms to prove she wasn't being squashed. They continued to hold servos as they made their way back along the poorly lit street to Backdraft’s apartment building.

In low voices they spoke about what they had seen, and heard. Javelin could sense in Backdraft’s field the firefighter was concerned about what he had heard. Normally quiet, Backdraft had a tendancy to keep his worries to himself, but as always, Javelin was able to sense them. They had been together a long time, first as friends, and had gotten into a lot of scrapes. He had always been the one to keep her grounded, calm and sensible to a point. He was gentle-sparked, and didn't like causing a fuss, although the two of them together, sometimes, could create more trouble than a whole squad of fighters. But when she picked up on his concern, she spoke of it.

“I don’t like it, ‘Draft. What they’re talking about? It...it sounds like trouble. I might not like the Towerlings, but I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and they were talking like….”

“Yeah,” he rumbled, “Yeah, I know. I know, Jav. I don’t think we should get involved in that.”

“Me either,” she said, relief suffusing her field, “It’s not a good idea. Let’s just stick to our plan, and head out of Kaon when we can, yeah?”

He had smiled down at her, “Yeah.”

****** ****** *****

Easing forward around a fallen pillar, Javelin thought about the large mech, smiling to herself.

She had been delivering a report on an energon source to a mining company in Kaon when she had gotten lost. Not having been in the industrial city before, she had no idea where she was. She then made the mistake of approaching a group of unemployed mechs for directions. They had been hanging around outside a store, and when she had spoken to them, they had started giving her a hard time. Stopping just short of physically pushing her about, it had been the large firefighter who had shown up, with Hammerfist, and they had sent the troublemakers packing. Kind sparked, Backdraft had introduced himself and Hammerfist to her, and had given her the proper directions. He had even walked her there himself, to be sure no one else gave her a hard time, obviously not being from the city.

Shortly, it was apparent a friendship had been made between the two, and later, Javelin found any number of reasons to head into Kaon to deliver messages or to make reports to the mining companies there. While the other scouts stayed away from the dirty city as much as possible, Javelin was always willing to take those jobs, just for a chance to spend time with her friend. They had grown close…and over time…closer still.

Checking the time on her internal senses, she knew her time was starting to get short. She had promised Backdraft she’d be at his place before it got dark now. What with travelling back from this place, and going through the gates around Kaon….the gates they shut at night, the gates it took time to actually get through, it was going to take time.

Up ahead, her lantern light caught something, making it twinkle faintly with a golden glow. It was bright enough to catch her optics, bring her out of the reverie and back to the present.

Walking ahead, Javelin carefully checked around for tripwires or tiles in the floor that looked suspicious. Carefully easing forward, her optics made out what looked like a long row of islands or counters. Placing the lantern down on one of them, she slipped off the rope and containers, and moved towards where she saw the golden twinkling.

(Cont)

[Javelin]

Part Five

There, seated on what appeared to be a clear, small pedestal, was what looked like a small gold colored dagger. Old Cybertronian was etched into the blade, and possibly precious metals woven braid-style into the hilt. It was a lovely little thing, made for show and not real use.

“Well hello there,” Javelin said, reaching out. She carefully picked up the dagger, turning it over in her servos, running fingertips along the handle. It was very heavy, again clearly for show only.

Reaching to one of the small containers she had attached at a hip, she opened it and removed a soft piece of material. Actual material like this was hard to come by - used mostly for art and estetics among the upper classes. But she managed to get her hands on some now and again.

Javelin carefully wrapped the dagger in the material, before slipping it back into the container, and snapped the lid down tight. Only then did she pick up the lantern and start looking around again.

Through sheer luck, she had found her way into what looked like some sort of display hall for weapons. No guns or rifles to be seen, Javelin wondered at the age of the room she found herself in. It was mostly swords and daggers, with an odd axe here and there. The majority of them seemed adjustable, making her think they could be attached to an arm and transformed out from a servo.

She made a mental note of the things she would remove to sell. Small daggers and the like, thin and pretty, display pieces all.

She felt a twinge at the thought these pieces would disappear once purchased, destined again for some private collector’s display room, instead of a proper museum or hall where everyone could benefit from it. But no matter who she took the pieces too, they always seemed to end up in the same place, so why shouldn’t she benefit from it? And it wasn’t like she was wasting the money on a frivolous lifestyle. She was purchasing a better life for herself and Backdraft, where he could join her in her own city and live a life where he didn’t always have to worry about his next meal of energon. And it wasn’t illegal. No one owned these things, so she was hardly stealing.

So she kept telling herself.

As she turned to move back towards the main entrance, something else caught her eye.

It was sitting in an open display case all on it’s own. Like the other pieces, there was no display card, nothing to give any information about it, but it caught her eye all the same.

A lovely recurved bow.

Javelin picked it up, and drew her thumb over the surface. It was black, surprisingly glossy beneath it’s thick layer of dust. The center, where one would hold it, had a dark reddish cast to it, as it the black metal had a source of heat deep inside, and it was glowing.

Laying down the lantern again, Javelin turned all her attention to the bow.

It was surprisingly light, and solid. She gave it a few wiggles, holding it horizontally and rocking it back and forth a little, to test it’s integrity. Whatever it was made of, it hadn’t rusted or grown weak over the years.

It felt nice in her servo.

Grinning, Javelin raised the bow as if she was going to shoot, holding it straight out before her. Taking an imaginary arrow from an imaginary quiver on her back, she pretended to bring it down to the handle, as if to get ready to shoot it.

The moment her other servo came alongside the first, light poured out of the bow. With an almost silent hum, a thin line of energy seemed to pour from both ends of the bow, meeting in the middle.

Staring, startled, the femme slowly brought her free servo to the string, as if to lightly touch it.

Once her fingertips touched the energy “string”, another soft line of light, and what appeared to be a long, thin beam of energy formed, laying over her fingertips, perpendicular to the string. If she squinted, she could just make out what appeared to be an arrow, made of energy.

Venting a soft sigh of amazement, Javelin gently took ahold of the arrow with her fingertips. She raised her arm again, and pulled back on the arrow. The energy string flowed backwards silently with a good, solid feel to it, there and yet not, almost like she was holding a steam of warm air.

Drawing it back as much as she could, she raised the bow, took aim, and released.

The arrow shot across the room, and struck the opposite wall with a hearty thud, embedding itself a good quarter of it’s length. Javelin watched as it seemed to pulse once, before winking out, vanishing from sight.

She only paused a second, before picking up her lantern and moving quickly towards the far wall. When she removed her second servo from the handle of the bow, only holding it with one, the energy string vanished, and it appeared to be an unstrung bow again.

At the wall, Javelin saw the hole the arrow had made. Slightly unevenly round, it was deep, and when she raised her servo to lightly touch it, there was a surprising amount of heat, as if the energy had slightly melted the edges.

“Wow.”

All things considered, the fact the bow had responded so easily after only how long it had been abandoned down here, was impressive.

She looked down at the bow again, and smiled.

“No sales for you, beautiful. You’re mine.”

She continued to smile at the bow for a minute, wondering how to figure out how to use it. It felt so right in her servo, like it was made there. Javelin had no use for weapons, of course, she wasn’t a soldier. But she wanted to learn to use this thing, and use it right. She was sure there was someone out there who would know how to teach her, surely.

An internal beep disturbed her, and she blinked, her optics shuttering for a second, as she realized time had gotten away from her.

“Scrap!”

(cont)

[Javelin]

Part Six

Javelin turned, quickly packing up her things, stuffing the rope and other containers behind one of the islands, not bothering to leave a marker behind. The next chance she got to come down here, she’d just start from where the bow had been, and go from there.

Swiftly running down the crumbled hallway, her peds thumping with each step, she mentally cursed herself. She was really going to have to fly if she wanted to get through the gates to Kaon before they closed. Backdraft was going to kill her.

She could just go back to her old apartment, but she’d much rather stay at his place. With him.

Javelin rounded a corner, seeing the dim light of the ramp and the exit just ahead.

Continuing to barrel along, she hurtled out through the entrance, her peds thumping down on broken tiles -

-straight into the grip of three mechs, waiting outside for her.

Javelin had been running full tilt, and when one of the mechs reached out and grasped an arm, she was literally spun about in place, her peds coming out from in under her, and she fell, landing roughly on her hip and side with a startled squawk.

Peds, all around her.

Frag.

Rough hands grasped her, hauling her to her feet. Javelin started to struggle, cursing, but a sharp word from one of the mechs brought her up short, and she paused, looking at him.

While the other mechs were large and bulky, this one wasn’t. He was still large, though, and could clearly take care of himself. He was black and white, with a red chevron above his eyes. Dark blue optics studied her intently. There were what appeared to be two guns or…oh Primus were those rockets?… above each shoulder. A large grey star on his chest marked him as a high ranking law enforcement. There was the Council symbol in the middle of the star.

She was in serious trouble.

The two mechs who held her arms were likewise colored, though in more muted colors, and lacked the star on the chest.

Silent, the mech reached out, and took the bow from her hand. He turned it over a few times, curious. Keeping it in one hand, he rotated it, intently studying it from all angles. After a moment, not taking his eyes from the bow, he held out his other hand, speaking firmly, “The rest.”

Javelin vented a sigh. When the two mech released her, she unhooked the container from her hips, and placed it into his hand. She knew she was outclassed here, and what else was she going to do, run? Run where?

Handing the bow over to one of the other mechs, the star-bearing mech opened the container, and took out the golden colored dagger. Again, an intense scrutiny, blue optics narrowed as the dagger was turned over and over, every possible angle investigated and studied.

After what seemed like a very long moment, he raised his helm and met her optics. She tried to stand firm, but those optics were cold and almost detached from what was going on around them.

Javelin kept her field shuttered down tight. Police like this…these were the ones she distrusted, almost hated. The ones that did everything entirely by the book, arresting people who broke laws because they had no other option, instead of giving them help. The ones that didn’t care who they were arresting, or why, just viewed all “criminals” as dirt to be wiped off their peds at the end of the day, the ones that saw anyone not a member of the upper caste as nothing.

The lead mech spoke, “Javelin. Energon scout. 342 Tecacon Way, Nova Cronum. Currently living in Kaon with one Backdraft, firefighter in Tagan Heights. Occasional….”

He looked down at the dagger again, “Spellunker … of Cybertronian ruins, and artifact thief.”

Javelin’s field shot outward in anger, “It’s not theft! When I first started bringing this out, I expected them to end up in museums. But they didn’t, did they? They ended up in private collections no one ever saw. If that was going to be their end, why shouldn’t I get paid to bring them out? No one seems to care about this stuff but me anyway. No one cares about their own history.”

He looked up, one optic ridge raised, then narrowed cold blue optics, “You claim to love your history, but sell the things you find to the highest bidder.”

Javelin crossed her arms, attempting to bring back her field under control, “It’s not just about money. There’s more. You wouldn’t understand.”

There was a long pause, and then the lead mech spoke again, looking down at the dagger again, “You might be surprised. I assume this Backdraft has something to do with this?”

Venting angrilly, she spoke harshly, “You keep him out of this. I’m the one doing this, not him! He hasn’t done anything wrong, ever! He respects the law and does his job and keeps quiet.”

The lead mech looked up, face revealing nothing, just continued to watch her with his cold blue optics, not saying anything. After a few minutes, Javelin dropped her eyes, but she still kept her arms crossed, almost defiantly. It was almost painful to meet that gaze, it was so intense.

Javelin stared at the tops of her peds sullenly. Why didn’t he just confiscate the stuff and leave? Or arrest her?

“It’s not illegal,” she mumbled, almost defensively, “No one owns it, no one has claimed it. There are no rules or laws that says anything that comes out of these places belongs to the Council or anyone else.”

Silence.

“You’re right,” the lead mech said suddenly, startling her. Javelin was even more startled when he held out the dagger to her, motioning for the mech at her side to return the bow.

Silently, she gathered up the weapons, lifting her head to look at the lead mech again. She frowned, not understanding.

If she had been hoping for a kind look, it wasn’t coming. His voice, when he spoke, was just as stern as before.

“You need to be careful, especially in Kaon. If what I think is coming…it’s going to be bad. Be prepared to get out of that place at any moment, and if your friend is as good as you say….tell him to be ready too. Get out, and get to safety.”

Saying nothing else, he motioned to the other two mech, and they turned, leaving the area. Javelin watched, horribly confused, as the three of them made their way up towards the more level area, transformed, and left, leaving her there alone, only the sound of the wind in their place.

So…that just happened. What was that all-

Oh frag, the gate!



(cont)

[Javelin]

Part Seven

Tearing back at breakneck speeds, Javelin’s processor kept going over what she was going to say to Backdraft. He would probably chew her out, reminding her she had promised to be back before dark. She could see him now, standing there with his arms crossed, that angry look on his face. He could make her feel guilty for the stupidest of reasons, even if it wasn’t her fault.

She’d have to just take his disappointment, though. There was no way she was telling him about the run in with the police. He hated what she was doing as it was, thinking she had come close to getting arrested for something? He would have a fit.

Javelin suppressed a little shiver when she thought about the mech with the cold eyes. Stating not only her name, but where she lived, and that she was staying with Backdraft? Yeah, that was scary. Why did he know so much about her? All this time she thought she was running under the radar…had they known what she was doing all this time? Had she been followed? Maybe it really was only the fact that there were no laws against what she was doing that prevented her from being arrested. But bringing Backdraft into it….that frightened her. The manual classes tended not to be given the same fair shakes as the upper classes, and they were often fined for the stupidest things. She really didn’t want his name associated with anything she was doing if it was the slightest bit dodgy.

Barrelling down the highway, she was startled to see the massive metal gates that shut down Kaon each night were still wide open, the streetlights flickering fitfully as they stood in a line on the street.

As she slowed down, she could see no guards, and that made her uneasy.

Where was everyone? Why weren’t the gates closed?

Javelin slowed to a crawl, then stopped completely, transforming to stand on her peds just outside the gate. It was here she usually met with a guard and spoke to them to gain access. She had no idea when it had become standard practice to have to talk to someone to get in and out of the city - it seemed like it was always that way. Lock the undesirables in, she supposed.

Cautiously, Javelin started in through the gates, looking around. At the first sign of a guard, she’d approach and talk to them, having no desire to seem like she was sneaking in or out.

Silence.

It was starting to get a little creepy. It was utterly silent. Kaon was normally a somewhat loud city, large mechs thumping around, heavy engines when they moved about in alt modes. Even talking loudly, or fighting amongst themselves. But right now it was eerily silent.

Starting to head towards the street that would take her to Backdraft’s apartment, Javelin tried to open her comm to him, to find out what was going on. She still carried her bow and the small container that held the golden dagger, and wanted to get off the street as fast as possible.

There was only static meeting her attempts at contacting Backdraft.

Something was blocking the signal.

Growing more and more uneasy - where was everyone? - she started walking faster. She was almost to the street that took her home, now. Once inside, she could relax.

“Hey!”

Javelin spun, looking behind her to see a group of Cybertronians moving towards her. Large and heavy, the three mechs and one femme were burly, consisting of possible miners and maybe a transport individual. They were all dark painted.

Oh Primus are they carrying guns? Why are they carrying guns?

Squelching down a deep desire to sudden turn and bolt, not knowing why she was starting to feel afraid, she watched as they walked up to her. Two of them, one mech and the femme, were smiling in a way she didn’t like. They seemed almost detached from reality, not quite fitting into what was around them.

“What do we have here?” the smiling mech said, looking down at her, “A little femme, lost in Kaon? What are you doing in Kaon, girlie?”

“Looking for trouble,” snickered the femme, “And lucky her, she just found it.”

“I…” Javelin paused, feeling fear starting to form in her spark, “I’m just heading to my apartment. My friend’s apartment. Backdraft. He lives just over there. I don’t want any trouble. At all.”

The large femme laughed, and raising two large servos, placed one inside the other and cracked her knuckles, “Too bad, girlie. You found it anyway. You got no business being here in Kaon. You don’t belong here. After tonight, you’re not gonna belong anywhere but a cell.”

She took a step forward, but one of the other mechs, one that hadn’t yet spoken, reached out a large arm, and blocked the large femme, “Wait.”

He squinted down at Javelin, “Backdraft. You’re his femme? Been stayin’ there with him for a while now.”

Javelin nodded, trying to keep her field normal. The four large Cybertronians, looming over her…she had never felt so small before in her life.

There was a long pause, then he lowered his arm, “Go on, then. Get off the streets. Tonight’s not a good night for people like you to be out around. Tonight, things are changing. It's our time now.”

Javelin said nothing else; didn’t even look at the others as they stood over her. She turned, and bolted, heading back towards Backdraft’s place as fast as she could run. Her pump was pounding almost painfully hard, feet flying over the road, seeking only the safety of their apartment and Backdraft’s presence.

At the door, she nearly dropped the key, fumbling at it in her haste to insert it in the lock. When it finally clicked open, she threw herself inside, slamming the door behind her, leaning back against it with a loud vent of relief. Safety. She dropped both the container with the dagger and the bow on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Javelin!?”

Backdraft came out from the archway quickly, optics wide. Seeing it was her, he moved swiftly towards her, voice angry, field jittering with anger and fear.

“Where have you been!?”


“What’s going on? The gate’s wide open, there are no guards! Where is everyone!?”

“I don’t know,” Backdraft held out his arms, and Javelin moved to him, leaning against him, letting him fold his arms around her. She could feel him almost vibrating with concern, and that only made her more uneasy. Backdraft knew everything.

“I don’t know,” he repeated, “When our shift ended, they told us to go home and stay there. Stay off the streets, it wasn’t a good night to be out. Why didn’t you answer your comm? I’ve been trying to get you for breems! I was getting ready to head out and try to find you! What in the All Spark were you doing!? You said you’d be back before dark!”


“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I…it honestly took longer than I thought, I’m sorry. I tried to be back before dark, I did. I’m sorry, I really am, don’t be angry.”

Backdraft vented deeply, and gave her a hard squeeze. She felt him fight to get his field back in control - she was there now, and safe - before he let her go.

“Go and sit, I’ll get you some energon.”

Javelin moved to her chair and sat. Her eyes instantly went to the video monitor.

“Primus, ‘Draft, look.”

Backdraft put the energon before her, looking at the monitor. He frowned.

Explosions. People rioting in the streets. And…flashes of what looked like gunfire. In one scene a huge tower flashed with explosions, and then canted to the side. In horrific silence, they watched as the tower fell in on itself, dust and debris roiling outward to choke the streets.

“What’s going on?” Javelin asked softly.

They watched the monitor in silence. More destruction, more towers falling.

“That’s Iacon,” she said, almost whispering.

In the distance, heavy thumps could be heard. They were strange sounding, like something crumpling in anger. There were several pops that echoed, then another heavy crump. A louder boom, and the floor under their feet trembled faintly.

Backdraft looked grim, not taking his eyes off the destruction on the screen, “Drink that energon, Jav. We’re going to need it to get out of here tonight.”

Javelin blinked, looking back to him in shock, “What? Get out? What do you mean?”

His optics met hers, “That guy we listened to that night? He was at work as I left. I heard him talking to some others. Didn’t pay much attention at first but now…I think that group’s just declared war. And the best place for us right now, is away from any of the cities. Maybe we’ll hold up in one of those ruins you know. Drink, then pack what you want to bring. We’ll slip out, keep to the shadows, and…and just get out of the cities.”

Javelin stared at him, optics wide. She looked back at the monitor. On the screen, people were running from collapsing buildings. Some she recognised from her own city, Nova Cronus. But the majority of the destruction seemed to be in Iacon. Beautiful towers were falling, bridges were being taken out. Large figures were moving through the streets, shooting wildly into the crowds, as police forces and the military were starting to form up, to try and stop them.

She suddenly remembered the cold-optics of the police officer, and the warning he had given her. Get out, and get to safety.

Javelin began to hurriedly drain her energon, that word echoing wildly in her processor.

War.

Perhaps she was going to get more use out of her bow after all….





(End)