(c)Copyright 1998 Melissa McCook Melody Silver/Golden Eight Note Ltd. TRANSFORMERS(TM)AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF HASBRO, INC. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR SALE OR PUBLICATION AND IS NOT INTENDED TO CONSTITUTE A VIOLATION OF COPYRIGHT OR AN ACT OF PLAGARISM.
..Baby can you hear me
Can you hear me callin'
Baby can you hear my
Message of Love....
---Journey
....Razorsharp stormed into Ops, shoving her way past the cadet at the door and marching up to the com officer. "Get me a secured channel. NOW!"
"Sir, if you'll just slow down, I'll--"
She was in no mood to argue. "Time is of the essence. Do you have a channel for me or not?'" The deadly glitter in her optics told the Com he'd be better off complying, but he darted a glance at her as he put his headset back on.
"Shockwave will have my head module for this," he muttered half to himself, twisting the dial until a static free channel came online. He typed in the commands for encryption, then turned back to her expectantly.
Razorsharp leaned over the big 'Con's shoulder, looking at the screen to make sure all was to her liking. "I don't think Shockwave will have a problem with this particular transmission, Lieutenant. Stand aside."
Unadulterated shock wiped the Lieutenant's faceplate of all expression. "Sir?"
"And clear everyone else out of here. This is private business." She sat gracefully at the terminal, scrolling init strings and lines of code reflecting in the ruby crystals of her optics.
The Lieutenant frowned, watching her as she sat typing in the coordinates. The Lady Razorsharp, as Lord Straxus had introduced her to the officers under his command, had been in Darkmount for not quite one Terran year, but she already moved about the base as if she had been here since the day she came online. Few dared to challenge her, but whether it was because of her own biting attitude or because she seemed to be Straxus' special pet, the Lieutenant wasn't sure. "Alright, everyone. You heard her Ladyship, let's go." He turned back to Razorsharp, who was already absorbed in composing her message, daring to crook one long steel finger at her. "You've got ten microns. I still have a Com to run."
A cold smile flitted across her electric blue lips. "Understood. This won't take long." She waited until the door had slid shut, then keyed her own personal lock code into the door as a further precaution against interruption. She heard the lock click solidly shut, then sagged against it and breathed a small sigh of relief. Alone at last.
Seating herself at the terminal once more, Razorsharp deleted the dummy message she had begun to dissuade any prying optics. Her fingers trembled slightly as she typed in the real coordinates--the last known location of Straxus' intercept group. His message had been filled with static, broken words meant to reassure, but the news had not been welcome. Out of a squadron of 27 Decepticon warriors, only Straxus and four others remained. Even as she mourned the death of her fellows, her regulator hammered with hope; over 90% of the Autobot defense armament had been wiped out. The cost had been dear, but Razorsharp prayed that the brave 'Cons had not died in vain. She also prayed that Primus would not see fit to take Straxus from her--although she knew there was no greater honor than to die defending one's ideals and loved ones.
_If you must go, caro mia,_ she thought as she finished the address, _then I pray it is with all honor._
Razorsharp took a deep breath, feeling the moisture evaporate from her filters and clearing her thought synapses. She knew this was a long shot--the message might not even make it through, even on their private channel--but she had to try. She sent up another wordless prayer, then began to type.
_Message from Razorsharp to Lord Straxus: Received your communique. Awaiting your orders, ready to reinforce your position if necessary._ The cursor blinked for a few seconds, then skittered across the screen as she added one more line. _Return to us soon, caro mia. Polyhex out._ She hit the TRANSMIT key, then sat back with a slow, long sigh. It would take the better part of a duty day for the message to reach its destination, but somehow, she felt better. Even if he never received it, she knew he would understand.....
...He was in trouble; she could feel it.
Somewhere, smoke and flame, the sound of flak skittering against metal, superheated beams of anti matter and the stink of ozone....and he was caught in the middle. An island of calm determination in the midst of chaos, and she saw his face, clearly etched in sorrow and pain.
"Love," his consciousness whispered against hers. "Hear me."
With a gasp, she sat bolt upright, her intake gasping and her regulator thudding in her audios. "NO!" she shouted, noticing a stinging pain in the palms of her hands as the dream began to recede. Bringing her hands up to her optics, she saw energon sparkle in the low light; shimmering half-moons glistened where she had dug her fingertip blades into her palms. With hardly a thought, she directed her repair systems to begin healing the marks, then swung her legs over the edge of the recharge pallet. _The dream again._ Thus it had gone, every night since Straxus had left on his daring mission to cut off an Autobot supply line. That had been Terran weeks ago, and Razorsharp found herself slowly losing her grip on her sanity. The intensity of the dreams, the urgency of his call, and the loss evident in his ruby optics made it difficult for her to shake them, and her fear of them made her reluctant to recharge. Consequently, she was exhausted as well as lonely and fearing for the safety of her lord and master.
There would be no more sleep tonight, so Razorsharp sighed heavily and stood, moving slowly to the nondescript desk and flipping open her Cyberdyne Powerbook. She checked her online messages, and wasn't really disappointed when there was none from Straxus. Deleting the junk mail and skimming the general communiques from Armada HQ, Razorsharp ended her session and turned off the small workstation. She got up and stretched, and was just about to head to the Drill Grid for some practice when the comlink chimed.
"This is Razorsharp."
"Sir, we caught something on the widesweep band we think you ought to hear. Please come up to Ops immediately."
Razorsharp's brows rose slightly. "What is it, Lieutenant?"
A pause. "It's from Lord Straxus, sir."
She bit her lip to keep from crying out, tasting her own mech fluid as she perforated the titanium. "I'm on my way."
When Razorsharp reached Ops, the guard at the door nodded respectfully, then keyed the code to the door and stood aside to let her enter. She nodded back, but her eyes were only for the Lieutenant and his young Com officer, the latter who held a pair of high-resolution transmitters over his audios and tapped commands into the workstation in front of him. Both looked up as she approached, her expression telling them there was no use in being formal.
"Sir." The young officer stood and handed Razorsharp the headphones, then poised one steel finger above the She nodded curtly, pressing the headphones to her audios. "Proceed." Static skirled through the airwaves, then a scratchy, thin voice buzzed above the static, so faint she almost couldn't hear it. Then the words began to clear, and she heard Straxus' voice, commanding and strong in the midst of chaos. Her optics flicked to the two anxious officers in front of her, the message spooling out into a rain of static and death. She gasped as she heard Eagles I and III go down; she had met the pilots of those crafts not long before they all left. Then, at the very end, Straxus' voice again, threaded with urgency as he searched for the missing fighters. Then it was gone, leaving only static to fill her ears, buzzing in her head and numbing her past all feeling. "So." She lowered the headphones, then gave them back to the young Com officer. "Thank you. Keep me informed." They both nodded gravely, not stopping her when she would have run from Ops...