Don't Fear The Reaper

Summary: It is the future. And Quickswitch's band of Sixchangers gather

'''Reaper Sanctum

''As a reflection of its Spartan-esque exterior, the insides of the Reapers Sanctum is no less simplistic and militaristically efficient. The dark, dank atrium is composed of a series of branching pathways and halls that lead to a variety of structures. One, a training ground for the Reapers. Another, something akin to a 'war room' with a holographic projection device typically showing maps of various cities upon the ruinous earth. Another is the imposing and eerie lab of the Reapers, filled with bizarre pods and containment units, monitors and screens lining the entire chamber and painful-looking devices used for the purposes of... 'evolution.' Within the main atrium, the Reapers sigil sprawls out expansively across the ground, letting those who enter know just who this place belongs to.

It is... the FUTURE! And in this terrible future, stands Sixknight. The tall, lithe Sixchanger is currently standing inside the Reaper Sanctum, silent and staring out of a window at the wasteland that stretches out for miles and miles, acrid smoke billowing into the air.

Scorch likes the future, it's dark, bleak and most of the people that once bothered him are now making up the numerous parts hanging from his frame as accents. Sitting off in a spot out of the way he seems to be sharpening a blade of some sort in a very Mad Max sort of way.

Across the sterile expanse of the Sanctum, Quickswitch moves deliberately. Each step across his Sanctum following every step the gigantic robot had taken in his journey to this point, his species' emergance from the dead metal husks the others would become. He had withstood a hundred years of rapid decline and turmoil... He sweeps his optics around all that is theirs, his optics following the path of Sixknight's gaze. Yes, he allows himself a smile. Sixknight, one of his first. He was proud of how Sixknight and Greatshot had turned out, their abilities surpassing even their base schematics. "...I'm leaving tonight. You can accompany me if you wish," he tells Sixknight. The familliarity comes easily. The future belongs to them.

Sixknight turns to greet Quickswitch with a slight bow, one hang clenched and glowing with the soft pinkish-white hue of Tencokon energy, the fire of the universe that he alone has mastered. "Leave?" he mutters. "Here, or the planet. I was just thinking how beautiful it looks." He turns his head again to see the wasteland that is Earth, the only sounds that of fire. "Earth. /My/ world. /My/ birthright."

A much smaller mech is slinking around the sanctum, scurrying through like a rat searching for food. His black paws sound lightly upon the floor, even as he quickens his pace. Yes, it is Foxfire, now of the Sixchanger breed. He looks much the same as he always had, and is still using the fox transformation as his prefered form. The vulpine wordlessly comes up behind Sixknight and peeks around his leg. He seems to be waiting--perhaps for someone to address him?

Scorch looks up from where he was keeping himself busy with the tools of the trade this elite group has mastered like no others and listens to bits of the conversation. Climbing to his feet he clamps the kukri to his leg and moves closer to see if a 'supply' run is set to begin.

Sixknight kneels slightly as Foxfire appears, still looking up at Quickswitch to pet Foxfire as one would a real fox. "Easy there Foxfire. I don't think Quickswitch would like it if he saw you were still sticking to your beast mode. The path of six has no room for favouritism. You must embrace it /all/"

"The Sanctum," Quickswitch replies, sounding perhaps a touch more paternal, as if the short century had both lengthened his patience and deepened his passion. They hadn't known him before, when he could barely contain a thought for longer than a nano-second. Now, he savored it, "This planet, /your/ planet, is to be cleansed tonight," he turns and regards the Dinobot, Scorch, in a tacit, perhaps assumed, invitation to fire and carnage, "The scientists no doubt will appreciate a handful of subjects for testing, but this is not our objective tonight. Now or ever," he adds, driving a fist melodramatically into his hand. Whump.

Foxfire is silent for a moment, even as he automatically leans into the petting. "Maybe so," he mutters, "but I'm comfortable like this." After acquiring a humanoid form, it had taken him a long time to learn to walk on just two legs. At least the rest of his forms don't have the same problem. He muses to himself, but after a few seconds he gives in, realizing that Sixknight is right. He sighs, and shifts to his robot mode. He stays close to Sixknight, watching Quickswitch closely.

Sixknight straightens, looking down at Foxfire and smiling. "I'm afraid that may have to wait Quickswitch sir. I have received orders from Praxis via the BORAD system. We are to proceed to the New American powerstation in the wastelands and totally raize it to the ground. I imagine you can claim any survivors for experimentation."

Scorch, no longer just a dinobot, has moved beyond a simple single mode shell now able to change to suit almost any need. His personality, however was not so lucky. Once lazy to an extreme and simple of thought the conversion that gave him his additional modes shattered his mind. Now his various modes also house various personalities. By far one feared the most is his current robot form. Though not as though as some of his others it is the home of his most vile and blood thirsty self. No longer held back by Autobot values or his lazy attitude it is in this mode that he revels it tearing into his prey. Hearing the orders that await only brings a smile to his face.

"Foxfire," Quickswitch addresses the very small fox, smiling as he transforms into his small robot form, "You have no reason to fear. Not me, and not this place, the path we're forging."

The BORAD flickers with its orders, and Quickswitch's lip slowly curls back in the first sign of displeasure, "All right. We go. Their mission coincides with ours!"

Sixknight nods, sliding a sword from a nearby weapons rack into a compartment in his back. "Then we ride out" he bows. "For a new dawn." And with that, he transforms to jet mode and blasts out of the door

'''Detroit

''A ruined landscape. Overgrown factories. Rusting car hulks littering the streets. A sense of bleak desperation smothering all hope.

''That was Detroit before the apocalypse. Now, forged from the ashes of that ruined city, rises Praxis' private joke. Fortress Praxis is a work of beauty, surrounded by that impossible, almost-forgotten sight of green grass and tall trees. Crystal-clear water, from the flooding of Lake Michigan, has washed Detroit clean. On an emerald island in the midst of the waters, the fortress itself is composed of a delicate, white, dome-shaped structure flanked by three spires, bowing towards the dome and intertwining at their apex. It looks like a work of art, built from porcelain rather than ultra-durable alloys. Light radiates from the structure, like a miniature sun in a land which has missed that warm caress for decades.

<> comes the easy-to-intercept communique, as Geo turns to avoid the wreckage of a Decepticon shuttle and Sweep remains, pushing her Hovercraft form, and her hoverbarge, a bit more towards the city. She laughs a little, <> The dust cloud grows a bit bigger as the hoverbarge moves a little closer to the city remains, as Geo begins to do her own sensor sweeps. "Hmm. Wonder if any Guzzlers are in the city... might need to do some tradin' later."

In the back of Astrotrain's spacious robot train ass, Wheelie strokes his golden robot beard with one hand. The other holds his golden robot machete. "Perhaps not my best pithy rhyme," he says, glancing to Moonracer, "But Wheelie say, it's killing time."

Grimlock places a hand on the back of Astrotrain's piot seat, his bulk slipping into the position as he surveys the rolling, desolate landscape below the flying shuttlecraft. "It'd better be," the King growls in response, holding up a battered handheld navigation computer. "Drop us in right behind the perimeter, Astrotrain. There are some defenses we might be able to use."

Two-Headed Cyber-Dragon grumbles and claws at the ground, gashing the dried dirt with his claws. As the order, one head turns towards the east where an immense dust cloud is growing ever so closer, and the other head turns towards the sky. The monster claws the ground more in hopes to gain Cyc's attention as the growls start growing into minor growls. The dust cloud is growing closer and can be made out as a transport vehicle, eith other in tow. To the sky, the head emits a roar to direct his leader's attention to the mass of robot's coming from the north. Something is amiss, and the creature is stirring in anticipation. He only hopes that his leader's business is conducted as quickly as it can be.

There is a huge roar as a pale blue and white jet roars overhead, the only blurr of blue in an otherwise overcast sky. It is Sixknight, the sixchanger, and he is heading directly for the power collection station. Transforming, he lands near the perimeter of the station, looking about, the noise of his arrival still echoing about the landscape. And then... he waits, silently

The scan picks up a few weak signals probably either shielded by something or low on power. Then the active energon scan picks up more that are incoming. He looks up while giving his wrist comp a small twist cutting out the computer almost instantly with a small crackle of energy. Zek does a mad dash across the street moving across a large open park like pavilion. Tall grass shoots up everywhere in the cracks and decay. Being young, he easily and quickly crosses the open area and into a narrow space between two buildings. Zek looks upwards, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming in.

Moonracer grins and points her laser at Wheelie before she leans across floor of Astrotrains cargo bay to grab the hoopak built out of on axelrod Wheelie showed her how to make, the makeshift slingshot mounted on the head of the staff igniting with ping energy bands with her free left hand. she mouths the words, "Bang Bang," In reply to Wheelie's challenge and holsters her sidearm as she creeps to the edge of Astrotrain's aft-end preparing to disembark.

A whirlpool appears just outside the power plant. It's not a huge whirlpool; hardly noticeable, in fact, unless you're looking for it. Up from that whirpool rises... an egg. The whirlpool reverses, and moments later only the egg is left.

To be fair, it is a rather large egg. The ovoid, looking much like a huge space dinosaur egg, begins to roll ever so innocently into the power plant grounds.

A miniature, platinum-colored car is following Sixknight. When the larger mech stops and transforms, the car does the same. It is Foxfire, and he is shifting to his robot form. Glancing about at his surroundings, he stays close to Sixknight, tightly gripping a small gun.

Scorch rockets in with the three other horsemen. Currently in jet-craft mode (VF Beta if your curious, cause he has a big butt) the speeds he can now reach never fail to amuse him. As the ground races past below him he runs a quick check of his weapon systems. When his fellows transform so too does Scorch landing with practiced ease weapons already in hand and a very un-Autobot gleam in his optics.

Peacekeeper remains silent, standing off to the side within Astrotrain's passenger bay as her narrowed optics stare at the floor. She largely ignores everything around her, only paying the slightest bit of attention to that which is important. She is only taking part in this mission to harm the Inquisitors--not out of any sort of 'loyalty' to Grimlock or the New America faction. She has been on her own for decades, has survived this long, and has no intention of changing that one bit.

"Always in a hurry..." Astrotrain gripes a bit to Grimlock's orders, but moves to comply. He may not have a cannon, but the age old rule of survival of the biggest and strongest still applies and the triplechanger is never one to leave himself left alone in the wilderness. Hence why long ago he no doubt approached Grimlock's band for sanctuary as the political climate changed. Or maybe he was just following Blitzwing's lead? It'll never be known for sure.

"Awright fasten yer belts and all that! We're goin in nice and fast!" And indeed he suddenly dips down, putting his passengers into zero-g for a few seconds as the ground rushes up to meet them. A hundred years ago or today, he just can't resist showing off a bit as his landing gear deploys, his huge form setting down with a sudden roar of a dust storm in his wake as he bumps and rattles over the landscape, coasting now into the vicinity of the collection facility, his side hatches opening up to allow his passengers to disembark.

Sixknight eyes the egg as it rises, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere around him, that of a wasteland about to become a warzone. He looks down at Foxfire. "Stay close to me. You have much to learn. An early grave is no fit home for a sixchanger." Slowly, he shifts waiting for his comrades, taking out a cloth covered book from a shoulder compartment, that is inlaid with a gilt hexagon. "I will show you fear in a handful of dust" he reads. "The Wasteland."

Colossus forgot to fasten his seatbelt like a good passenger, and so when Astrotrain descends, he is trown from his seat and goes sliding across the floor towards the pilot seat slamming into the back of it where he stays motionless for a moment, before clunking backwards to lay on the floor of the shuttle in a heap.

Indeed, like the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse they come, pinpricks in the sky growing larger, like hawks. Quickswitch flies point, watching the earth speeding below him for glints of dull metal or signs of flesh, practiced and eager at spotting it amidst dead dirt. He lands, transforming perhaps even swifter than he's ever been seen to, watching and waiting for things to fall into precision.

Grimlock grips his G-harness with both hands as Astrotrain comes in hot and tight, the large Dinobot rattling in the pilot's seat. The second Astrotrain comes to a stop, Grimlock pops his harness, drawing his broadsword and turning out of the pilot's chair, stomping towards the cargo hold. "Alright everyone, you heard the mech! I want those feet pounding the ground NOW!" He growls, waving the others out of Astrotrain's hold with his sword as he too jumps to the ground, both armored boots striking the parched and scorched earth of the barren hills the power facility has been constructed upon. "Wheelie," he says, turning to the small dauphin, "Check the perimeter. Look for any sign of traps or advanced scouts. Everyone else, take up defensive positions."

The sound of helicopter blades can be heard, as it makes it way behind Foxfire and Sixknight. It is a large craft, and when it grows close enough one can make out the vehicle; which is a Chinook. Yet, it is completely black, and the glossy paint just shines as it flies through the air. Spectrum seems to have undergone some changes, and it shows as he speaks down towards his fellow six-changers, "I must concur. Excercise extreme caution."

When the side hatches are open, Wheelie is the first out, machete in hand and smile plastered on as he literally just steps backward out of Astrotrain, mock-tipping his little helmet's visor as he does so. As he free-falls, backward, he suddenly kicks in some of his numerous tiny verniers, their fire slowing his fall and letting him decide where exactly he wants to drop himself -- and he seems to be angling for the center of the power station, swan-diving downward and suddenly kicking in the verniers in his calves to blast downward at an accelerated rate. When he lands, and Grimlock calls his orders, Wheelie scampers to inspect the surroundings the stealth of a tiny golden panther and the battle-honed instincts of a child soldier -- machete at the ready, beard gleaming.

There's no yellow brick road, hell not much left of the roads. But what began as concern over where he was is changing. Now Daniel knows where he is... right were he started. But this is definitly not right. This is wrong on so many levels it has him scared, not something that happens very often given his life. The gun is out, as he moves along the streets catiously. On the look out for anyone or anything. He spots movement ahead, and is relieved that it is human, or at least looks to be, right now Daniel won't bet money on anything. However he sees the human dash into alleyway, least that's about as good a description. So Daniel dashes after him, weapon in hand and falling into the trained habit of looking around him, it may have been a while but a Witwicky knows how to handle themselves in wierd situations.

The space dinosaur egg comes to a stop, bumping up against the outside wall of the power station. As soon as it does, it... disappears. The egg is simply gone. OR IS IT?!

Foxfire snorts. "I don't plan on dyin'. At least, not here." Besides, he has unfinished business. What has become of the rest of his cassette brothers? He's determined to find out. How he longs for the old days, but he's not going to spend his time moping about it.

Red Alert sighs and shakes his head, sending a droid off towards one of the man holes...a man-hole near Zek. The cover opens and the droid sticks it's head out, whispering towards Zek, "The Sneaky Weasels, courtesy of General Red Alert, offers you sanctuary. But you had best hurry, young sir." Red leans down and speaks into the speakers, "Really? Do you mean it? Gee, I don't know what to say...thanks!" He pauses for a minute before audibly laughing into the speakers o0(Come on B2D6...hurry up) "NOT! I really don't give a damn about your goals Cikey Wikey. Do what you want. The war is over. This is your playground for all I care. The humans are gone. You think I give a flying ****? Do whatever you want. But don't involve me and Kup. We got our own gig, you know this. And we ain't hurtin for cash. So just move along, do whatever it is you do, and we'll do what we do. Now if you have a PAYING job, I might listen. Otherwise, kick rocks."

Moonracer is allready a scintillating reflection of the sun as she dives into a defensive roll from the back of astro train, a brief kick-up of dust announces her existence briefly but subsides just as quickly as she keeps one eye on Wheelie's reckless reconnaissance and the other frantically searching with paranoid hysteria for danger at every angle.

Peacekeeper braces herself as Astrotrain lands, then silently makes her way out of their transport, rifle at the ready. She has to wonder if the Inquisitors' multi-changing lapdogs will show up, but she has no doubt they will. That faction is never one to get /their/ hands dirty, after all.

Colossus groans and manages to get to his unsteady feet. "I.. never, liked.. flying.." he comments to himself as he follows the others ot of the shuttle hold down to the waiting ground. He tries fumbling for his flamberge once more, but his grip in unsure atm since he is still dazed and grougy from that landing. He just tries to follow in line with Grimlock and the others for now.

Decepticon Shuttle waits until everyone has disembarked before he transforms, shrinking rapidly in size and tipping up as he gets to his feet once more. Casually, his battered rifle appears in his hands, cradled in the crook of one elbow as he cracks it open. An explosive shell is pulled from his bandoleer, pushed into the oversized of the over/under barrels. A satisfying crack follows as he shuts it once more, lifting the weapon to rest on one shoulder, casually pointed towards the sky as he takes in the surroundings.

Zek Briar slips into the alleyway and turns around, his form half covered by shadow. He's glancing up watching all the buzz of activity. Zek slips his hand into a pocket on his survival jacket and pulls out a long cylindrical tube of some sort. Some sort of communication device? A bomb? Worse. He hits a tab on it and it ejects a small fruit flavored candy out into Zek's mouth. Mentos, the fresh maker! It's about then he notices the other human running for his spot. Zek, feeling cornered, slips back farther into the alley way and towards a pile of rubble. He unzips his insulated survival coat all the way and pulls out the black smooth looking pistol. Though he'd rather not use it and it shows. He's not really trained in such things since he's holding the weapon all wrong.

As Daniel reaches the alleyway, he says, "G...go away, whoever you are." The voice sounds young and inexperienced.

Cyclonus stares at the dilapidated building covering Red Alert's hideout as the firmly delivered negative reaches him before he turns and starts to walk off toward the exit of the city without a backward glance or even a response to Red Alert's mockery. He gestures to Hun-Grr to follow him as he heads in the direction of the noise of engines that has made itself heard outside the city. Perhaps he will find something there or, failing that, the opportunity to perish in battle instead of his parts shutting down as his energon slowly drains away.

Quietly coasting overhead, Fusillade hnns to herself as she sizes up the location of Hun-Grrr and Cyclonus. The modified Lancer dips one slender wing as she hnnns to herself at the menaces looming on all directions. Gingerly, she circles down, before transforming and landing with a faint 'thunk' on the pulverized ground behind Cyclonus. "This isn't getting us anywhere," she pragmatically reminds the former Unicronian.

The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet.

Grimlock steps atop the power station's decaying fortifications, letting out a slow mechanical sigh. "We won't last long here," he comments, matter-of-factly, to Astrotrain, though hopefully not so loud as to demoralize the rest of the New American forces. "Astrotrain... Head into the energon storage chamber. See how much you can load up. If we have to retreat, I want it to at least be worth our while." He turns his helmeted head towards the horizon, scowling in anticipation.

Scorch looks about him as he follows behind Sixknight and Foxfire eager to find something to destroy. The days of old are gone, no more Rodimus telling him to hold back and no more Grimlock doing his own thing with little concern for the team. Scorch likes this as now he's free to give into his rage and can vent it where and on whomever he wants. Sword in hand he continues on, "So when is the fun going to begin? You know I'm not a fan of all this skulking about."

Cyclonus turns slowly to face Fusillade as she transforms and lands behind him on the broken ground. He begins to speak with a politeness that is as icy as a glacier and roughly twice as heavy. "And what would you suggest? Carve warriors from the ground?"

Sixknight folds up his book and packs it away as a bleeping on his arm alerts him. "Quickswitch sir, BORAD has alerted me to new energy signatures near our sanctum. I will go alone and check it out, we can easily destroy them here even without me." With that, he looks down at Foxfire with a smirk. "And I expect a full report when I return, okay, Foxfire?" Already twisting, his body contorts into a jet and he heads upwards vertically, vanishing as a dot into orbit.

The hovercar and the hoversled finally get back on course, after having maneuvered around the wreckage of a 'con shuttle. <> Geo transmits, beginning to increase speed, forcing the hoversled behind her to increase speed. From her hood, her laser blaster/taser rotates up. <> She hits a bit of building wreckage, halfway ramping, kicking up MORE dust and drawing moer attention to herself.

New Soundwave watches from inside the power station as the egg continues rolling on its merry way. Well, the evil tape commander has something to tend to if he's going to have a hassle-free working environment. "Cassettidrones, eject," New Soundwave intones as he walks behind the egg, and cassettes pop out of his chest in his wake, like oversized confetti. "Operation: Distraction." The Cassettidrones rattle violently on the floor before they finally transform into a myriad of robotic form. Their components exposed to the elements, their alloys rusted in various places, and limping along as if they can barely move, they slowly drag themselves into position around the station. Armed with simple slug-throwers, they aren't intended to put up much of a fight--New Soundwave just slapped them together for a little bit of extra insurance.

The Cassettidrones groan as they shamble along, compelled to obey even through the fog of confused memories of their former lives.