Lightfast gave him a sour look as he pushed past her. She turned to follow him, rubbing at the sore dent on her helm.
“Look, I’m not asking for more than I know you’ve got, “ she grumbled, stepping over the remains of what may have been part of the white internal ramp before the tower fell, “All I need is 3 or 4 vehicons with some mining experience, or some demolitions experience might help too, a couple of good sized rubbish trucks--- OW! Watch those cable-things, they’re sharp. And some basic tools - shovels, rakes, sifting screens to find loose tiles in all this dust, basic stuff.”
For a flyer he was certainly fast enough underground. Those dainty pedes could step on surfaces she’s only break through. Lightfast found herself having trouble keeping up, not that she was going to admit it to him.
“The rest is just basic chemiCALS,” her voice went up as her pede sunk down suddenly through a pile of broken wallpanel chips, “A couple trowels and lots of really fiddly work. And let’s face it. You and me both know I’m broke. I’M just the worker here. You’re the Primus-damned second in--- I mean,” she changed tack hastily, “You’re the Leader of the Decepticons now, or something. From what I hear the war is pretty much done. There can’t be much else to do here besides digging. Maybe your troops might like a, y’know, change of pace.”
The tunnel walls were changing shape, as if the tower had collapsed inside itself like a telescope when it fell. Sections of the walls overlapped each other in irregular semi-circles of broken metal and insulation. Grey-white dust was thick on every surface. Each step they took stirred up more of it.
“We’ve gotta be getting close to it,” Lighfast coughed through the dust-fog, “It should be around here somewhEEeeERRE!”
The rubble underneath her slid suddenly. The purple fem went helm-over-aft, her flashlight streaking in crazy arcs until she landed loudly in a pile of scrap, rust and dust.
There was a blinding plume of white that blotted out everything for a few minutes.
Then her arm could be seen, shooting straight upwards, pointing frantically.
As the white dust settled a huge, red shape loomed out into the circle of light. As the air cleared, as if on cue, the ceiling above them suddenly seemed to catch fire. A massive red and gold avian arched over them, flickering brighter and brighter as the small tiles traded light amongst themselves. It’s blue optic looked past them in a thousand mile stare. It seemed to lunge against the white background; any moment about to take flight in a roar of crystal wings and burning sparks.
After the initial shock of the image faded, grey patches of missing tile could be seen, marring the birds pretty coat. Against the brilliance of the tiles they looked like black holes in space, eating away at the light around them.
The rest of the image, and presumably the second avian, was buried beneath their feet, in who knew how many meters of rubble.
And tiny sparks of colour - blue and green, gold and red, purples and silver - slowly made themselves felt all round them; scattered loose tiles, hundreds and thousands of them, glittering in the ruins wherever the light touched.
And something else, something also very large, glowed a faint violet in the infrared spectrum in the far end of the darkened tunnel.
Vandals! Vandals in the Tower!
They were so very, very close.
One more movement, one last step and he could move...
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