Swindle spun off the narrow asphalt path, onto the flat desert
rock and sand. This new form, the closest  analogue his personality chip
could form from the crude Earth vehicle Starscream had used as a matrix,
was hopelessly primitive, but it had it's uses. His old form, he mused,
could not have navigated the primitive, unmechanical landscape of Earth
nearly as well, and it seemed he was stuck on this planet for the
forseeable future.
	In any event, he had a meeting.
	Within minutes, he reached the primitive oil rig. As he
approached, a fleshling stood up, walked towards him. The creature
showed no sign of fear NOW, of course....but their first meeting had
been rather different. Imagine, a flesh-creature trying to STEAL a
Decepticon! Naturally, Swindle had been impressed by the man's bravado,
and, sensing a kindred spirit, did what he did best. Cut a deal. 
	Pulling up to within a few feet of the human, he transformed,
becoming a tan and purple robot roughly twelve feet tall. The human
whistled, then shook his head. "Always gets me when you fellas do that.
Saw them Auto-guys on TV last week....blasted goody-two-shoes. Hmph.
What you got for me?" 
	"The usual, human. Targeting devices for your weapons trade.
Explosive compounds. And...." Swindle's mettalic features twisted into
the semblance of a human smile,"...something new. Would your fleshling
clients want a device that can jam primitive Terran radar?" 
	"D'you mind not calling me 'Fleshling'? Sounds kind of...I
dunno...dirty. But, hey...a radar jammer, you say?"
	"I do indeed 'say'. What is it worth to you?"
	"How many you got?"
	"Let us just say I can get as many as you need. "
	"Well then....let's say a quarter-cube of Energon each."
	"A full cube."
	"Two fifths, and that's my final offer."
	"There are many others who would eagerly offer me five sixths of
a cube."
	This went on for a quite a while...this was the only activity
Swindle genuinely enjoyed. And imagine...trading outdated junk, of no
use in the war, to these primitive humans for good Energon...Energon
that could be stockpiled and sent back to Cybertron, where it was worth
hundreds of times what it was worth on Earth...trade THAT, through his
contacts, for other antique technology that these humans were desperate
for...Oh, Starscream, you never dreamed how wealthy you would make me
when you resurrected me. Swindle's internal circuitry nearly purred with
the thought. 
	Hours later, the haggling was done. The human, as was his
custom, drank some low-grade fuel (at least that's what Swindle's
analysis told him "Schlitz" was), and Swindle ingested a small energon
cube. Then, carrying a small load of the cubes in his vehicular form's
trunk space, he rolled off. Why, he wondered, did that pompous oaf
Blast-Off get the body with the massive cargo hold? Life can be so
unfair at times....In a manic instant, he wondered if Optimus Prime
would trade one trip to Cybertron, loaded with Swindle's purloined
Energon, for the contents of Megatron's supposedly "secret" war
computer. Of course he wouldn't. That sixteen wheeled nitwit was far too
"honorable" to even consider such a deal! His vehicular form bounced
slightly, a robotic shrug, and sped towards the Spacebridge. 
	It was supposed to be tended only by Dead End. It wasn't.
Swindle rapidly transformed, shifting his cargo into subspace. 
	"Starscream! What are YOU doing here?"
	Starscream turned from his work, hastily slamming a small panel
shut. "Why...just making sure the Space Bridge is fully functional! I
*was* a scientist before the war, you know!" His optical sensors
darkened. "But what are YOU doing here? There are no transfers scheduled
for today!" 
	Think fast, Rabbit, thought Swindle...a line he'd learned while
trying to understand Earth culture, so as to better know how to deal
with the fleshlings. "I'd heard the Auto-fools might be planning an
attack, so I came by to investigate. But, I see YOU are here, and since
you can easily withstand any assault...." Would he buy it? Of course he
would. Starscream was notoriously gullible....and cowardly. 
	"Why...yes, Swindle. I *could*. But someone must...er...warn
Megatron! You guard the Spacebridge;I'll fetch the others!" He leapt
into the air, transforming as he did into the form of a terrestrial
warplane, then ignited his afterburners and flew off. 
	Dead End languidly approached from the nearby rocks, where he
had been laboriously removing some slight scratches from his red metal
finish. "Why do you bother, Swindle? You can't take it with you." 
	"Fine, I can't. Neither can you. But you still want what I can
get, and I can only get it from Cybertron." 
	"Very well. Waste the few eons of existence you have in futile
pursuits, see if I care...."
	Swindle shook his head, then shifted back to vehicle form and
rolled towards the Bridge. Dead End would activate it, and that would be
that. 
	A few miles away, Starscream smiled, a grin far different than
the simpering expression he usually wore. Swindle actually believed I
fell for his ridiculous story! As if I don't know about his little trade
route! Starscream's optics switched to high intensity magnification,
focussed on the Spacebridge. A perfect test subject for my little trap,
he thought Assuming it works, I can easily dispense with that depressive
malcontent and lure Megatron here. If it doesn't....well, no great loss.

				*  *  *

	He laughed, a dark chuckle that would have scared those who
thought they knew him. Let the others think I'm a coward and a buffoon.
It makes it that much easier for me to manipulate them. He settled back
to watch. 
	Dead End manipulated the controls, as he had done a dozen times
before. Some of the readings were odd, but it didn't really matter.
Nothing did. He watched as Swindle rolled toward the discontinuity
point, entered it, then.... 
	[SENSOR OVERLOAD:COMPENSATING BY SYSTEM SHUTDOWN] flashed
through his mind. He found himself on his back, as damage readings
scrolled through his mind. External damage...superificial hull
burns...optic sensors overloaded, switching to back up....auditory
sensors nearly destroyed.... 
	As his secondary optics came back online, he looked at the
spacebridge. A huge rip appeared in the sky above it, and the dark of
deep space, scattered with stars, appeared in the rift. Swindle was
there, too, floating in the void. Then the rift closed, instantly, and
the spacebridge came back into focus...battered and charred. 
	Dead End staggered to his feet. He was half tempted to simply
ignore it....after all, everyone had to go sometime. But there were
worse things than dying, even for a Transformer, and Megatron was quite
good at inflicting them. He shifted to his vehicular form and sped off,
his constant depression magnified by the damage done to his outer shell.
It will be WEEKS before I've cleaned up.... 
	In the rocks beyond, Starscream scowled. THAT was not the
intended effect. Best to play along with Swindle's story and play the
fool for Megatron yet again. He leapt once more into the sky, this time
heading for the nearest Decepticon stronghold. I wonder what DID happen
to Swindle, he thought. Well, at least that's the end of that ingrate
Bruticus.

	[SUDDEN DECOMPRESSION:SEALING EXTERNAL SYSTEM] 
	[RAPID TEMPERATURE DROP:INCREASING FUEL BURN TO COMPENSATE]
	[GRAVITY - NULL:ADJUSTING BALANCE CONTROLS]

	Swindle transformed into robot mode. Deep space? Had Dead End
betrayed him or...no! I don't *believe* it! I trusted STARSCREAM? I
deserve to be marooned in space...again!
	Starmaps were called up from long-unused storage banks in the
crystalline matrix of his mind. Nothing matched. Wherever he was, it was
not someplace Cybertronian astronomers had charted. Communications? He
began broadcasting on a wide range of bands, used by Decepticons,
Autobots, and the several dozen starfaring races he knew. As he spun
slowly through the void, he adjusted his optics across the
electromagnetic spectrum, looking for the unique signature of industrial
life. 
	Hours later, he found it.
	Elsewhere.....
	"Commander, we've got something on the sensors. Small, mettalic,
emitting signals across all frequencies. Possibly a probe...we're
detecting no life signs." 
	"Does it appear hostile?"
	"No, sir...wait. It seems to have spotted us. It's sending a
hail."
	"On screen."
	The oval viewscreen flickered from a view of the surrounding
stars to an image of a strange, mettalic face.  "...gon. Repeat:I have
been marooned due to an unfortunate accident and am in need of help. I
can pay in high-quality energon. Repeat..." 
	"Energon?"
	"Perhaps some sort of fuel, commander. But...pay for help?
Sounds like this probe was built by Ferengi." 
	"I'm not so sure it is a probe, Dax. But, in any event...send it
directions to the docking ring, and let's welcome the latest visitor to
Deep Space Nine." 

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