TFP: Turning Tides (BACK IN BUSINESS)

BONUS - Out There...

Okay, so I lied. Last chapter was not THE last chapter. I added a little stinger in here for you guys to gnosh on. Enjoy this short little blip~

No need for a disclaimer this time. We all know the drill. Enjoy!

Out There...

~Many light years away...~ 

The ship was quiet, and inky darkness covered everything in an impenetrable blanket of night. The other noise was the occasional beeping from the controls, or the steady, ever-present hum and rumble of the engines. A lone figure sat at the controls, his optics mostly closed. He vented harshly, his fore-helm hitting the controls as his arm gave out. He didn't know for how long he'd been sitting there, watching the empty monitors.

Suddenly, a more rapid beeping, couple with a flashing red light, caught his attention. He raised his head, staring at the communications array. That particular control had not been accessed in nearly a thousand years. 

Spark pounding, he stood up and darted from the room. When he returned he had another mech in tow, his words jumbling in his excitement. The first mech sat back into his chair as the other stood behind him. He spoke in a tired tone of voice. "Alright, alright, I'm here. What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter, sir. We have a message!" He whirled to face his superior, hope and exuberance shining in his optics. "And, what's more, it has an Autobot signature."

The mech behind him gaped in amazement, and then he grinned wildly. "Open up! Let's see what we've got."

The first one did as he was told, his digits clacking on the keyboard deftly. It was evident that he'd done this many times in the past. The taller of the two, the second mech, leaned forward over his shoulder and watched the screen anxiously. The first of the two pulled up the audio feed and they both waited expectantly.

At first, the words were indistinct and slightly scrambled, but the problem quickly righted itself.

                                                                                    ****

   .:"Come in, anyone out there... My designation is Tide Turner. You will not know me, but I am an Autobot. Optimus and his crew are stationed here on Earth with me, part of the Milky Way Galaxy. We are few in number, though we are many in spark and spirit. Still, we are vastly outnumbered. I ask any remaining Autobot out there anywhere to provide reinforcement.

Despite this, if you are an enemy, I recommend avoiding this solar system. We will take you out. And if you dare endanger the inhabitants of this world, you can consider your days numbered. Earth is our home, as Cybertron was once long ago. We will once again rise to defeat any who oppose and threaten the world we defend.

I am sending coordinates now. To our allies, we welcome you. To our enemies, stay away. But let this be known to all who hear this message:

We are fighters.

We are defenders.

We are brothers and sisters.

We are strong.

We are Autobots.

And we will win this war.

Tide Turner out.":.

The two mechs stared at the screen in silence for many long moments, letting the audio fizz and flicker off. They turned and stared at each other. Then, abruptly, they exploded into howls and cheers, the one sitting jumping up and slamming his fists into the air. 

Their cries alerted the other occupants, were came out with grouchy or tired looks. "What are you two yelling about in here?" one mech demanded, glaring at them darkly.

With matching smiles, they replayed the audio, and all at once all signs of annoyance and grogginess disappeared. The entire control room was filled with jumping, rambunctious mechs and femmes, all of them cheering for their mysterious messenger.  A couple crushed together and kissed each other passionately, and no one in the room protested as they might once have done. There was reason for celebration.

"Put in those coordinates! We're headed to Earth!" yelled the mech from the couple, a crazed smile lighting his faceplates and his finger pointed to the screens. Another round of cheering went up in the ship.

Doing as they were told, the main operators slid into their seats and tapped in the coordinates, taking hold of the steering devices to turn it around. 

It was the first time in a long time they'd ever really had hope.