TRANSFORMERS GENERATION 2 and ROBOTECH: THE NEW GENERATION STRANDED Part Three: Desert Battle By Christopher E. Meadows [Dedicated to Raksha, M. Sipher, and also Peter Walker, whose Robotech Glossaries are an invaluable fan resource, even if they shouldn't be considered "canon" by any means. Keep up the good work, Peter!] The green and orange humanoid mecha roared through the skies over the desert, its distorted shadow sending small animals scurrying for shelter as it raced across the ground. The mecha's body language reflected the feelings of its pilot--a burning anger that seemed to reach beyond the confines of his craft and sear the already blasted desert further. Prince Corg of the Invid was not happy at all. Between his repeated failures to destroy the human resistance group that had been a constant thorn in the Regis's side since well before his quickening to full Evolution and Princess Sera's recent odd behavior, he had little to be happy about. However, even if neither of those situations existed, it was still doubtful that Corg would be happy. Happiness, or even the capacity for happiness, did not seem to be a part of Corg's nature. Corg had been directed by the Regis to assume temporary command of the Invid forces at a small Hive in what the humans had once called Arizona, to investigate an apparent spacefold occurrence. It would never have occurred to Corg to doubt the Regis before his Evolution, but it did now. Did not the knowledge downloaded from the Hivemind suggest that a fold was impossible this deep within a gravity field, save only by the intervention of the Regis herself? He was being sent on a fool's errand, when his time could be better spent tracking down and terminating that pesky resistance group. Yet the Regis ordered, and so Corg had to obey. Corg projected his mental voice ahead, to the Hive. "All Invid, make ready! Your Prince arrives!" He was not quite able to prevent his annoyance from leaking through, but so much the better. Perhaps it would help keep them in line. Corg pressed forward on the glowing circles that were his Battloid's controls, and the mecha accelerated toward the Hive. Best to get this over with and return to his search as soon as possible. Rapido threw himself into a roll as plasma discs blew craters in the ground where he had just been standing. "Guess they're not too friendly!" "Looks that way, doesn't it?" Skram brought up his blaster rifle and returned fire, as Rapido came out of his roll with his own big double-barrelled motor cannon ready. The three blasts put holes through the torso of one of the crab-like purple mecha, and it exploded in a fiery display. As the other crab-mecha began pouring plasma blasts their way, Rapido yelled, "We've got to get them away from the spacebridge!" "Right! Eat photon charges, creeps!" Skram transformed, converting his blaster cannon into the overcharged engine sticking up through his hood, and roared right at one of the other mecha. Most of the shots he fired from behind his front grille went wild or were deflected by the crabs' round pincer claws, but the the mecha were startled enough that none of their own shots even came close to hitting him. Skram plowed into the mecha's legs and kept right on going, knocking its footing out from under it and dropping it on its face. "Hmm...not the strategy I had in mind, but..." Rapido transformed and raced toward another of the aggressor-mecha, going airborne from a small rock outcropping and slamming into its torso. "...whatever works!" The crab went down, leaking green fluid from around its sensor eye, and Rapido made a four-point landing a few yards later. He skidded around in a bootlegger reverse and transformed again, firing more blasts from his motor cannon. "Yeah!" Skram whooped, adding his own firepower. "These guys aren't so tough--whoa!" A blast kicked up dirt in front of him. "Gotta watch that!" The one Skram had knocked over was getting shakily to its feet, but the one Rapido had hit, he noticed with some satisfaction, stayed down. "I think we've got their attention now." "Time to cut and run? You got it!" Skram transformed again, peeled out on the desert ground, and headed for the horizon. Rapido followed suit, his cannon becoming his own turbocharged engine, its barrels his dual exhausts. As one, the purple mecha launched themselves into the air and zoomed after them, laying down a lethal barrage of energy discs all around. Fortunately, what they made up for in firepower, they lacked in accuracy. "Yahoo!!!" Skram whooped, as he and Rapido raced neck and neck, swerving to avoid plasma blasts. "Isn't this _fun_?!" "Fun isn't _quite_ the word I'd have used, Skram," Rapido replied drily, holing a persistant crab-mecha through the torso with a lucky shot from his dual exhaust cannon barrels. "Yeah, well, you just don't know how to have fu--UUUUUU!!!" Their pursuers had started leading them with their fire. One of the blaster disks slammed into the ground just in front of Skram's right front tire, shredding it and causing the blue Corvette to vault into the air. Rapido gasped. "Skram!" Nightracer's engine barely ticked over as she drove through the ravine leading into the river valley where the secret Decepticon sector HQ was located. The pride of Deluge, a recently-promoted scientific advisor, it had had even caught the eye of Megatron for being completely energy-self-sufficient. No more, Megatron had decreed, would the Decepticons rely on what they could steal and scavenge from others. Using Deluge's new hydroelectric and geothermal generators, they could even produce an Energon _surplus_. It gave the Decepticons that much more time to devote to plotting the Autobots' downfall. Nightracer was already mentally rehearsing what she would tell Deluge when she returned. She would make no excuses, but it would not hurt to put what had happened in the best possible light. She ran over it one last time as she rounded the corner that would reveal the valley and its Decepticon HQ to her in all their glory... ...and then stopped, words vanishing from her mind. Even from this distance, there could be no denying the simple fact that the Decepticon base _was not there_. What _was_ there was a complex of buildings of an architectural style quite unlike anything she had ever seen before. Rising high over all the others, sticking up from the center of the river, was sort of a round structure, like a geodesic dome. Lower down, in front of it, were several small structures within a fenced enclosure. Much of the rest of the valley was occupied by tilled and irrigated fields, growing vegetation of some kind. The whole area was patrolled by purple mecha like those she had seen pass overhead on her way in, as well as smaller pink versions of the same general design. Nightracer's sensors zoomed in, and panned across the terrain taking in more details. There were people in that fenced enclosure, and others working in the fields. They were under guard by what Nightracer could only make out to be some kind of small robots or beings wearing exosuits. Humans? No...not likely. They did not have the proper body language. The humans, Nightracer observed, did not seem to be in the best of health. They seemed thin, emaciated, weak...as she watched, one working in the fields keeled over. One of the exosuits lashed out with an energy whip, hitting the human squarely across its back. It did not move. The suit kicked it, then gestured to two other humans to carry it off. This engendered no particularly strong emotional response in Nightracer one way or the other. To her, all was as it should be; the fittest to rule were obviously the ones in command. Nightracer wondered, though, were they indeed other humans, or perhaps some third party? As she watched, a green and orange humanoid mecha, similar to one of the exosuits on the ground only much larger, landed, and a human in a matching bodysuit leaped from a cockpit in the torso to the ground. Ah, Nightracer thought. So I was right. It was humans after all. It was a source of amusement and irony to Nightracer, when she infrequently thought about it, that human history was _full_ of evidence that humans were capable of inflicting far more creative and agonizing torture upon each other than anything the Decepticons had ever come up with. Perhaps it was because they had more emotional involvement in the matter, took more of an interest in each other than Decepticons did in them. To the Decepticons, _all_ lower life forms were unimportant save as a means to an end, or unless they happened to be in the Decepticons' way. The Autobots, on the other hand, seemed positively anal about protecting them, as if they were their own personal cybermite colony kept amid raw silicon fragments between two panes of transparasteel. Save the humans, save the humans, it was all they ever _did_. Nightracer doubted she would ever understand it. However, that line of thought _did_ bring Nightracer back to her present situation. Whatever else she might have been, Nightracer certainly was not stupid. Far from it, in fact. There was no possibility that the Decepticon base could have been uprooted and replaced by all this in so short a period of time since she had last been here. It would have taken far, _far_ too much time to build, not to mention that the Decepticons would never have allowed it. The only explanation that was reasonable, that was anywhere _near_ reasonable, was that the malfunctioning spacebridge had transported them after all, but not vertically, through space. It had transported them _horizontally_, across the boundaries of space and time and onto some other planet Earth that was not their own. And this changed everything. With some irony, Nightracer reflected that Rapido's team of Autobots, whom she had just been wishing dead, might now represent her only chance for survival and returning home. How little indeed past alliances meant in a situation such as this. Nightracer backed away slowly, then turned and headed back up the ravine, waiting until she was a safe distance away before accelerating to maximum speed. Best to get back to the Autobots and check on them...and preferably keep _them_ from finding out about this place. She knew with a cold certainty that they would not be willing to leave a human prison camp in operation if they knew about it. Skram tumbled through the air, headed for a collision with a fairly large boulder--but was intercepted just in time. "As the humans would say, touchdown!" Windbreaker said, catching his friend before he could come to harm. "Windbreaker! Turbofire!" Skram cheered, as Windbreaker set him down. "You guys got here just in time!" "So I see," Turbofire said, bracing his blocky engine-gun on his arm and firing at crab-mecha. "What _are_ those things?" "Hostile!" Rapido replied, joining them in humanoid configuration. "Quick, behind those boulders! Skram, can you transform?" "I'm trying." Skram slowly extended legs and arms, then stood up. "Yeah, I'm okay...just scragged my wheel, that's all. Ow." "Take cover behind those boulders!" Rapido ordered, as plasma discs blew splinters from rock nearby. The Autobots scrambled for cover, returning fire when they could. The fire from both sides kept up for several minutes--the cluster of boulders provided good cover, and the only way an enemy could get a blast in would expose it completely to the Autobots' return fire. "Hey!" Windbreaker yelled, as a lucky shot slammed through one of the mechas' sensor eyes. "Aim for the red eye, there's a chink in their armor there!" "You expect us to hit _that_?!" Turbofire yelled, as a disk slammed into rock right beside him. "Gah!" Just then, cannon blasts slammed into three of the four remaining crabs' sensor eyes simultaneously, and a missile blew the fourth to flinders. "What the hell?" Skram said, looking up. Nightracer stepped into view, smoke rising from the muzzles of the massive over-under assault-rifle cannons in each of her hands. "Howdy, boys," she smirked. "Looks like I got here just in time." Turbofire blinked his optics. "We were saved...by a Decepticon?" Rapido stepped into the open, not lowering his gun but not pointing it directly at Nightracer either. "Nightracer, I presume?" "You presume correctly, Rapido," she replied, not yet lowering her own guns. "Looks like we owe you one," Rapido observed mildly. "Not that I'm complaining, but why?" "Oh, I think you can guess." She waved noncomittally at one of the lifeless crab-mecha, now slowly polluting the desert floor with green ooze. "Your point?" Rapido asked. Nightracer shrugged. "Like I said, if you're as smart as you're made out to be, you've guessed it already." Rapido nodded. "I have an idea, yeah. Am I to assume this means you want to cooperate?" Nightracer made a show of stowing her guns. "For now. Until this thing is over, then we split. No fuss, no muss, no obligations. Kapish?" Rapido nodded. "Acceptible." "Right. Let's not stand around gabbing all day like a bunch of Autobots. Oh, wait, you _are_ a bunch of Autobots, never mind." Rapido ignored the jibe, turning to the others. "Skram, you okay?" Skram nodded. "Just let me slap on my spare and I'll be good to go." He ejected the tattered wheel from his shoulder, then fitted a new one on in its place. "Then let's return to the spacebridge, so Skram can finish checking it over. Nightracer and I have a theory, and we might as well see if the evidence supports it." Nightracer accompanied the Autobots back to the spacebridge, but stood apart from them with her arms crossed as Skram devoted his full attention to its inner workings. Rapido and Turbofire stood close by, looking over his shoulders, leaving Windbreaker to keep an eye on her. She did not bother looking at him; she had more interesting things to scan. The sky, the desert, the rocks...okay, maybe they were not exactly _interesting_, but they were something to look at besides the Autobot. "Well...I think you're right. We hopped dimensions. I think," Skram said, pulling himself back out of the access panel. "At least...it _could_ have happened, and there's no reason to say flat-out that it _didn't_." "That doesn't sound too reassuring," Rapido noted. Skram shrugged. "Hey, I'm not Perceptor. I can't give you infinitessimal probabilities and slag like that." "Can you get us _back_? That's the sixty-four-thousand-Energon cube question here, kid," Nightracer noted caustically. Skram's visage darkened at Nightracer's remark. "I _think_ I can," he said at last. "It'll take parts from all of us to repair the spacebridge...and I'll need a _lot_ of Energon to power it. That's the downside...even if everyone donated all they had and ran on bare survival reserves, we'd still be way short. This thing takes a lotta power, y'know." "So what you're saying is that we're pretty much up shit creek," Nightracer said. The Autobots exchanged glances. Skram spread his hands. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying. I'm afraid it looks like we're stranded." TO BE CONTINUED Author's Notes: Yes, this is a crossover story. I've written quite a few of them already...why not another one? Besides, "Generation 2", "The New Generation"...the names just sort of _called_ to each other, don't you think? :) Seriously, this story was inspired by the "Who would win" threads that seem to come and go in phases on the Robotech listservs and newsgroups and other such discussion arenas--even alt.toys.transformers isn't immune. Everyone seems to think that their favorite continuity would be the victors, and yet nobody ever goes to the trouble of writing a fanfic to support their version of it. So, I thought _I_ would. Of course, the whole issue of "who would win" is, in one sense, kind of a moot point. Rather like the way the Japanese filmed two endings for "King Kong vs. Godzilla" so each country could have its favorite monster stomp the other, the true answer to the question lies in the script. Even the best technology in the world can't save you if you've got script immunity. :) Incidentally, for all you other ultimate Robotech die-hard have-the-entire-series-on-tape fans out there, "Stranded" is set in the TV series continuity between Episode 77, "The Midnight Sun", and Episode 78, "Ghost Town". Please, if you're reading this story, just drop me a note to say what you think. Doesn't have to be a long note, but I _would_ like to know that there _are_ people reading this story, and it's not vanishing utterly into electronic oblivion. Later! "Stranded" is copyright 1997 by Christopher E. Meadows. Permission granted for free electronic distribution via Usenet and associated archival, as long as no fee is charged and this notice remains intact. For further permissions, such as inclusion in "Con-Quest" or on an archival webpage, please contact the author, he would likely be more than happy to oblige. :) The Transformers are registered trademarks of Hasbro and Takara, and Nightracer is a trademark of Raksha and Plumed Serpent Productions. Their unauthorized use here is not for profit, and not meant to infringe upon those trademarks. This is _not_ an official Hasbro-endorsed story, please don't think I'm trying to pass it off as one. (There, that should make the Hasbro lawyers happy. :) Robotech, the Invid, Prince Corg, and other associated characters are trademarks of Harmony Gold, Inc. Their unauthorized use here is not for profit, and not meant to infringe upon those trademarks. This is _not_ an official Harmony Gold-endorsed story, please don't think I'm trying to pass it off as one. (And that should make the Harmony Gold lawyers happy too! :)