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Chapter One

Part Four: Moribundus


'......All ...ead.. her...'

'...not ....proach!'

'HE'S COMING!!...This is ...this was Commander Depthcharge. Last survivor of Garrus 12, signing off.'

'Do not. I repeat: Do Not approach!!'


Message sent. Beacon's deployed. If you're out there Cybershark, and this distress beacon reaches you. I hope you choke on it!

i - We had a deal

The Shark saved the Maximal heroes of the Beast War. Thwarting an insane plot that could have dramatically altered the history of our race. I was there, during those closed door hearings. The audacity of Megatron's plan shocked me, as much as anyone else present. But that wasn't why I was there. Wasn't why I vouched for the Space Pirate and his demands. X. It was all about Protoform X. I was on his trail when I received word of the returning Maximals. Couldn't have returned to Cybertron faster if I were super charged with Energon.

The Elders were at an impasse when it came to Cybershark. He was part of a interstellar terror cell. All members were to be turned over to the Galactic Alliance on sight. Yet, our people would be dead without him. Megatron's scheme would have never come to light. Doubtless, upon hearing of it. Tripredacus might have sent more than Ravage back to finish the job. Primus knows what would have happened if that Deceptacreep found or extracted his original spark, let alone his body.

The Shark offered an alternative proposal. A discrete way of rewarding him, without letting a Space Pirate roam free. Which would cause issues with our allies in the Galactic Alliance. He seemed to have no interest in that anyway. The Pax Cybertronia prevented the Elders from being able to utilise the shell-programmed Maximals. These psuedo-Predacons. Now powerful "Transmetals" in their own right. Couldn't be touched by either side without breaking the treaty. The decision was reached to put them into Stasis. Rhinox and the scientific community objected on moral grounds. They were overruled, on political ones.

X was different. He was mine! My presence and personal history with X was ..noted, by the Maximal Elders at the meeting. My request for his transfer into my custody was denied. He was going to be stowed away in stasis with the others.

I didn't take the news well.

I spent the following solar cycle in a cell. After a minor ruckus with Ironhide. That's when the Shark approached me. He gave me a job offer. There had been approval for his proposal. He had reinstated the Garrus project. The penal system of the Autobots. Created at the height of the Great War. Ultimately, the last facility was decommissioned by Rodimus Prime after the battle of Nebulos. The Elders deliberated for several Mega-cycles on the ethics of such a proposal. Megatron's confession. His true mission. This forced their hand. Peace without enforcement, would only lead to catastrophe.

An abandoned, aquatic world was preselected by the Shark. Five star systems distant from Cybertron itself. Cybershark, as he introduced himself. Offered me the role of warden. X, would be my primary responsibility. How could I refuse? The newly christened "Garrus 12" came into being one decacycle later. He required no materials at all for construction. The Elders, well Silverbolt. Showed concern over how much of this proposal was already in motion. Seemingly before he even rescued the Beast War Maximals.

I insisted on a troop of Maximal Protoform being made available for my team. Subordinate only to me. Cybershark, ominously in hindsight, didn't object to this. Prowl queried what Cybershark even gets out of this deal? Cybershark noted he was a researcher, before joining the Space Pirates. He was in the process of studying the history of his species and this world in particular was needed for his experiments. He said he would not be able to leave. Additionally, the prison (and Maximal oversight) being penance for his crimes. We all bought it. Unseen red flag number one.

ii - The Protoforms
Another request was possession of the remains of his former squad - The Seacons - as they were known. They had unique physiology that he said would aid in his research. No one saw the harm in this. Another red flag, missed. At some point, in their transit to Garrus 12. Cybershark was left alone with the Protoforms. Fifty in all. Their CNA was altered in a way that wasn't understood until much later. When they were awoken. The dormant (and amusingly headless) X was transported with them. He was Prisoner One. The other inmates would follow later. Due to some issue raised by the Predacon Alliance. Politics, pfft.

iii - The Beast Machine
Hammerstrike. A gigantic and seemingly sentient submersible techno-organic vessel. This was to facilitate the prison itself. Endlessly swimming across this expansive ocean world. I queried the design once, as he was modelled after a different species than the Space Pirate himself. He chuckled and said it was homage to an old friend. I later learned that a Hammerhead Shark Bot wasn't on file as part of either the Space Pirates or the Beast War Maximals. Strange?
The "Hammerhead" itself, could also detach to become a space faring craft. An omitted fact from the Elders. He was more than capable of leaving whenever he pleased. Without the "eyes", the sentience of the Beast Machine becomes active. Speech, I never heard. But the awareness of the thing was clear. I was wary of being inside it from day one. Even with my own Submersible Mode, something about Hammerstrike made me cautious about investigating the ocean beyond. Something instinctive and primal.

'These datalogs are a bit intense, eh?' The query just met with a shrug by the co-pilot of the shuttle. 'I thought this beacon might be worth something salvaging. Either for the Energon core or just in scrap. But maybe we should have left it floating out there, Brimstone?' His answer came in the form of a strike to the back of his head.
'Put a lid on it, Hunter! That flapping mouth of yours is the reason we're scavenging junk in this worthless shuttle in the first place.' The venom behind those words, wounded his companion. 'Always mouthing off to Leo Caesar. It was bound to get us slagged eventually...'
'It wasn't my fault we screwed up..'
'"WE!?" It was all YOUR fault! Cannonball and the others nearly pulled off that mutiny!'
'But I didn't know...'
'WE WERE ON GUARD DUTY! I WALK AWAY FOR TWO CYCLES FOR SOME ENERGON AND YOU LET THEM INTO HIS PERSONAL QUARTERS! WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN?! Even then you couldn't shut up! We're lucky we weren't actively involved and got banished instead of executed!' The exchange was becoming more heated within the confined space than Hunter was comfortable with. Trying to soothe the gathering, potentially lethal, rage of Brimstone became top priority.
'So erm.. where did we leave off with the datalog?' Brimstone's optics briefly flared at the question. He then closed them. Let out a calming breath and returned to reading from the monitor.

iv - The Awakening

The fact this was all a set-up, I should have seen coming. X was used as bait to lure me. Knowing I would bring Protoforms with me. They were the real prize. one he couldn't have gotten on his own. Even through the black market, no Space Pirate could have gotten access to so many Protoform in pristine condition. His "experiments" had nothing to do with the planet itself. That was a cover to use an isolated location that masked convention orbital tracking. The Protoform were the key. The Seacons became the missing link between his biology and ours.

Organic alt-mode fusion was rare outside of the Beast Wars. It was tech that he needed to see, to study. So he could replicate it. Spliced with his own CNA. His people would be restored anew, using our bodies as base mold to be re-engineered. Too long went by before I started to piece all this together.

Cycles passed after the last Protoform was awoken before my suspicions started to raise. Passing his quarters, I overheard the Shark talking to some "Mediator" once over an encrypted channel. The voice was vaguely familiar, although distorted. They talked about "Transmetal extraction" and a fee was mentioned. A rare mineral for sale or explotation these days. I also heard the voice use another name too. "Skybyte". I Don't know that name? Another Bot in play? How many more secrets does Cybershark have hidden in this place?? One of the crew came out of a turbo lift and drew me away from the corridor before I could hear more. Sharpedge. Smart kid. Another shark species, I believe. They all were. When the Protoform were awakened. They emerged fully formed. The pods didn't even perform a cursory scan. The red flags kept piling up. Didn't see any of them, til it was too late of course. All I saw then, was X.

He was kept in the deepest pit of this place. Although in stasis. I had his Crab Mode held by a hydraulic dynamo. The slightest thing goes wrong, it pulls him apart and jettisons each piece into different directions across the planet. All save one of my security monitors were pointed at X. The other on Cybershark's lab. I wouldn't fail in my duty again. I swore on all those lost. Blinded to the Sharks machinations. May the future forgive me.

iv - Worst Case Scenario

With the other inmates "in transit", according to Cybertron command. There was very little for me to do as the megacycles went by. Other than train the new recruits. Sharpedge and Overbite were my star pupils. It took be back to my days as a Drill Sargent on Starbase Rugby. The good times. The rest, possessed a great aptitude for combat. In turn they were pressed into the "Hellscream" squad. They would be a strong security presence for X, the plastic Preds and any further prisoners to come. All of these bots were more innately more vicious than I assumed Maximals could be? Cybershark dismissed this with some offhand remark about being a Shark Bot. Which, to my regret, I bought that too.
It took a while before I noticed that numbers started to dwindle. The first "rogue" one, I encountered alone after inspecting X's cell. I greeted the Bot causally, but it just stood at the end of the corridor. I could see even from this distance, something was wrong. It lunged at me with a howl. I managed to subdue it. But it was completely savage. Mind-less. Cybershark's examination confirmed that. He said it was a one off. He thought it was some flaw in the Protoform process. Which I rebuked, but he took on the pretence that this was not something wrong on his end. Within a decacycle, most had been lost to this "flaw". There was nothing more we could do but eject them outside. They were little more than beasts by that point. So it was safer for those who remain to let them roam the endless sea.
Two Solar Cycles ago, Sharpedge was among the last ten left. He came to my quarters, terrified. He asked for my help in getting answers from Cybershark. He was convinced our benifactor was hiding something. I agreed and that's when Hammerstrike went dark. The lights never came back on. But the alarms did. X was free! That's the only reason those alarms existed. It must have been Cybershark! I got the Hellscreams to form smaller units and hunt him down. Meanwhile Sharpedge and I headed for the control room, onboard the Hammerhead ship. The blast door was down when we arrived. Cybershark was leaving. He broadcast regret over his "failure". His experiment couldn't bring back his people. The Sharkticon CNA was somehow incompatible with Protoforms. The end result was the complete loss of intellect. He ended the message with a note to Sharpedge and the others that he would keep trying. That's when Sharpedge lost it and I had no choice but to act. Before the battle could damage the blast door and endanger the station. I had to put down my first new friend in stellarcycles. Over the intercom, I heard the others. Dying. X was stuck in Beast Mode. Still headless. But his sheer strength and resilience was unbeatable in such close quarters.
That's when the idea hit me! But before dealing with X, I had to warn others away from this place. I've got a beacon to prep.


'The last part was a little degraded. Looks like a meteor might have hit the beacon at some point. Knocking it off course.' Hunter was actively tinkering with the beacon in the ship's hold. Gouges clearly missing from the otherwise seamless beacon. 'I can't get it all. But I think I can clear up the part beyond the broadcast warning.'
'Just get on with it, loser! The computer can't get a fixed point on the telemetry of the beacon's point of origin until it starts working again.' Spat his sometime friend over the intercom.
'You sure we want to find this place, Brimstone? It sounds like trouble..'
'Armour up! You're supposed to be a Space Pirate. Not some simpering Maxi! It's this Beast Machine I'm interested in. Sounds rare enough to be worth something on the black market. Organising a tow frigate won't be too hard from our contacts. WHEN we have a location.'
'Ok, ok. I got it. Standby...Got it!'

v - The Plan

"This is planet Puracine. Now registering on the Maximal database as a lethal world. Do not approach. Not one living Maximal remains onboard of Garrus 12. The approach vector for this cluster should be mined with Maximal defence platforms as soon as possible!'
'HE'S COMING!!...This is my last chance. I can't fight him. His healing factor seems somehow augmented? I'm going to flood the Hammerstrike and open up the whole base to the ocean. See how those things outside like the taste of unkillable crab meat! I won't survive this. I guess that will be my penance for falling for this con to begin with. This was Commander Depthcharge. Last survivor of Garrus 12, signing off.'
'Do not. I repeat: Do Not approach!!'"

--
'There we go! Puracine! On the charts and within a stellarcycle from our current location. Finally some good luck is coming our way!'
'I sent the message for your tow frigate. They said it will take three stellarcycles to reach Puracine. Still, are you really sure about this?'
'Pipe down, Hunter. We're Space Pirates! They're just a bunch of defective Maxi Protoforms!!'
'I guess you're right.'
'I know I am! Still those defence platforms could be a problem. Set our Transwarp engine to jump into the planet's ocean. This thing is reinforced enough to withstand the pressure. We'll scan some better altmodes when we get there...'
'This Beast Machine might even get us back in favour with Leo and Armourex, you think?'
'Just punch in those coordinates and leave the thinking to me, this time!'

Chapter One

Part Five: Only The Guilty Run

Predacon Symbol Ship Cortex

'Galloping galaxies! I'm getting real tired of waking up a prisoner..' The current field commander of the Maximals, though typically diplomatic to a fault. He was not one to shy away from voicing his displeasure, when the mood took him. In spite of the cuffs around his wrists, Cheetor walked the length and width of the holding cell he shared with Dinobot and a silently brooding Rattrap, sat staring at the outer observation hatch in a dark corner. 'We've gone from a flaming pit, barely fleeing with our sparks from a deranged Decepticon hitman. To losing our ship and even more of our friends onboard to some Vok monster. Only to wake up in a Predacon Symbol Ship!!'
'Things ain't always what they appear, Bub.' Dinobot and Cheetor turn in shock to see Overbite silently standing behind their cell bars. 'This is a Pred ship. But they ain't in charge anymore.'
'By the Matrix! Overbite!! We haven't seen you in a hot cycle! Can you let us out of here? Where's Big Bot? Where's Tigatron??' Overbite felt the bittersweet joy of being reunited with comrades in arms. But instead of embracing a reunion, took a step back from the electro-bars.

'No can do. You're in here because of the rat over there. The big boss of the Wreckers is onboard and in charge. Since Rattrap and Dinobot are fugitives. You're all in here until your level of complicity in their crimes can be determined. Primal and the others are in the next cell block down the hall. As for Stripes... he didn't make it. He died on Cybertron. Megs got him. Before we lost the planet.' Cheetor dropped to his knees with the last revelation. Tigatron had been like a brother to him for many cycles. News of his death hit hard.

'What crimes?' Cheetor raised the question with his own gaze lost to the floor, after a long silence. 'K-9 and Max B mentioned the same when they arrived on the Perceptor. But no one said anything else. If we don't know what the charges are, why are we all being held??'
'Because they were on your ship. Not listed on the manifest, when Wolfang and the others arrived. They also fought with us in the Beast Wars. The Wreckers didn't know that at the time either. So the idea is they were smuggled out in the Perceptor. If what they did was sanctioned by Primal and/or agreed by the rest of you. That's what the Wreckers want to know now. The only reason I ain't in there with you is because I wasn't part of the Perceptor crew. That's all I can say for now. I'm gonna go check on the others. Get some rest, Kitty cat. You're all safe here.' The lights followed Overbite as he left the hall without another word.

'You gonna talk, or Ratface?' Cheetor, now back on his feet. Glared at Dinobot. The one time Predacon poised on his haunches. Still dwarfed his commander. Their optics met and Dinobot paused briefly. 'What did you two do!?'
'Very well, Commander.' Forming a steeple with his bladed hands, Dinobot appeared to gaze off into another time and place. The gleam of his Transmetal skull cast a strange glow over the black sockets of his optics. 'The crime...'
'Dat's enough, Choppaface! I got dis..' The tone of the suddenly vocal former commander shocked all into silence.

The Bridge

'I still don't buy it.' Magnus Omega watched the security monitors with arms folded and a scowl. 'Two stowaways just appear on the Perceptor, stellarcycles into their mission and are welcomed onboard without a second thought?' He motioned to his subordinate. 'They knew! Perhaps Primal left a cache on Earth, off the books? Maybe secretly sending these two to retrieve it?'
'I wasn't there for the whole thing, sir. But Rattrap and Dinobot didn't seem to leave with any extra cargo. Data, perhaps? But nothing physical. We would have seen that.' With Redfang now deceased and Wolfang in emergency stasis. K-9 was the defacto second in command to Magnus. Max had once again locked himself in the nearest medbay. Working on his "refinements". His augmentations, his way of dealing with the toll of the Wrecker life. That, could go on for sometime. K-9 would ask for Overbite to be deputised. But Omega had already vetoed the option. Trust was K-9's forte. Not his. They continued to observe and record this confession.

After The War: Pre-History Earth

Following the fallout of the Beast Wars. The Maximal Elders commissioned the Oracle network. An unparalleled network of Maximal defence platforms. Deployed to orbit Earth and protect it from any future-led incursions. Without activation of their weapon systems, their power sources would exhaust within 50,000 stellarcycles. The continued safety of the planet would be reviewed again at such a time. Any Transwarp travel to this sector was outlawed indefinitely. But onboard a stolen shuttle, Rattrap could care less about orders and laws. Something irresistible had been gnawing at him. Luring him back to the planet. Unconsciously, he rubs the back of his hand every cycle or so. The sensation hasn't allowed him undisturbed rest since arriving back on Cybertron. Strange visions. Nightmares. Plague his unconscious. A voice calls out to him. One he can't quite make out. But feels compelled to help. Defence platform sensors? pfft. Ain't got nothin on Sentinel. The Stainless Steel Rat thought with amusement. Although his descent to the planet went unchallenged by the potentially world ending arsenals of the satellites. In spite of his best sneaky efforts, his journey did not go altogether unnoticed.

An alert sounded onboard K-9's cloaked star ship. Deep within Predacon territory on a top secret mission. He didn't need the distraction. 'Max, we gotta go. Give me a sitrep.' The comms crackled for a brief moment. K-9 looked out on the observation monitor to the left of his pilot seat, at the planet below. The hidden construction planet for Ravage's Heavy Cruiser. As the investigating Wreckers discovered, one of many. War with the Predacons was inevitable. But as long as the folks back home believed their fractured race was at peace. It helped to curb the Preds ambitions every once in a while. Building a fleet of stealth-based warships was not to be indulged at this time. 'Mission accomplished. Activate transmat.' An incredible explosion erupted from the planet, with the end of the transmission. Max materialised on the teleporting pad soon after.
'Where are we headed?'
'Beasties Era Earth. Someone tripped the sensors without being fragged by the Oracles. Which means trouble.' Transwarp coordinates were already calibrated. A fleet of Predacon Fliers were just emerging from the besieged base when the cloaked ship departed.
'Mercs or Preds?' Max queried while loading an new experimental core into his blaster. K-9 finished punching in the Oracle passcode before replying. The code would grant them passage. But the non-Flier was still anxious about the very idea of losing his only transport out of this backwater time. 'Mercenaries is the best guess of command. Predacons would be louder, unless they somehow got the passcodes. Which would mean they captured the Captain or Red ..and good luck to them with that.' They both mirthlessly chuckled at the very idea.

'Planetfall in five cycles. There's an Energon storm below with heavy sensor interference. That's why two of us got the call. You take southern hemisphere, I'll take north?' They both soon stared down through the drop doors of the loading bay. 'It's a problem, you know this K? The official reports state there shouldn't be anything Cybertronian left down there. The treaty depended on it. So the Merc's target has gotta be something hidden, something secret. I'm guessing near one of the crash sites. Which is each end. The Preds are more likely to hide stuff. That points north.'
'So you wanna trade, big guy?' A cheeky rebuttable with a mild elbow to the abdomen of his enhanced comrade.
'No. Yes. No..' Following a pause and raised brow, K-9 presses a button near the hatch and the recall probe for the transmat system rockets to the surface.
'Meet back here in five solarcycles. Even our mandate don't last that long down there. The Friendly codes reset in seven. Now Wreck & Rule!' They leap as one. The ship now in geosynchronous orbit with the planet. Although keyed in as a friendly. The Oracle system retains a target lock.

It took Rattrap making landfall at the old Axalon site, before his visions took hold once more. Now overwhelming his conscious mind. He suddenly vividly recalls the passing of Dinobot. He took his hand in those final moments. Now recalling a slight feel of static as he held on. The source of his ache? Putting the hand to his nose for the first time. He picked up a distinct scent that he hadn't noticed before. A trail to follow. Transforming into Knievel Mode. He sped away to the east, almost instinctively. Towards what, he wasn't sure? Too distracted and far away to notice his shuttle being detonated by a determined looking Alsatian. Now locked on and hot in pursuit.

The granite peaks. A mountain range that housed several remote outposts during the initial mining campaigns of the two factions. This formation was believed purposely created by a Vok weapon. Although, in spite of many searches. No Other technologies were discovered. Rattrap didn't know what brought him here exactly. This place had been so long abandoned that the technology purges of those last solarcycles merely levelled the buildings. Unlike other sites, no detailed inspections were led. A central spire, almost entirely caved in on itself, was the destination.
Although moving under preternatural instincts. Rattrap still knew he was being tracked. They were good. Real good. He, thinking ever modestly, was better. Inconspicuously planting hidden demolition charges at regular intervals. The chain reaction would level the mountain. A last resort if either his unknown objective or pursuer ended in a lethal ambush. He'd lost enough. He didn't fear death anymore. The trail picked up stronger than ever under the main spire strata, now imploded through the Maximal purge. No, wait. A shaped charge! Disguised sabotage? Rattrap began to dig. Slowly, carefully but with purpose. Before long, the energy signature became a visible sliver of an Energon emission. Did someone actually get left behind? But then how did they lure him here??

--

I waited, sir. It's not my first time tailing a pro. That said, he had no idea I was literally in the caves beneath him. I entered from a disused refinery duct towards the mountain base. So my traversal wasn't as debris heavy as the target's. I say "caves". But someone had clearly remodelled this place, relatively recently. Otherwise this mountain at least has been picked clean of Energon long ago. In the downtime, I trailed hefty power cables. The only dust free aspect of these old mining tunnels. That tied into portable generators from the spires further afield. All designed to supply a constant, low level power source. But distributed over such a wide area to avoid sensor detection. Someone wanted to keep a secret project down there. From all sides. My target broke through to the upper levels about a megacycle after I finished canvasing the area. Aside from boulders crashing above, not a peep. No sound at all. No footfalls. No speech or even Cybertronian AI sensor sweeps. The scent of the target was close though. Very close.

Oh scrap! A wrecker!! I really am gonna die...
Rattrap internally mused, hidden within ductwork above his pursuer. His only saving grace being the familiarity with his one time surroundings that the Wrecker didn't have. That and his ever impressive ability to being near completely undetectable, when he chose to be.
Nearly but not completely.
The Wrecker suddenly paused and transformed into bot mode. Pulling his blaster, shot three times up over his left shoulder. The laser beams cutting Rattrap's surroundings with almost surgical precision. The wayward Maximal fell to the ground with a thud. He slowly gazed up from the feet at his optic level and was met from the business end of a Wreckers rifle.
'Night, night convict!' The last thing Rattrap heard before the gun barrel was brought down upon his head and he saw no more.

Chapter One

Part Six: Collective Punishment

Pre-History Earth: The Beast Wars

The Darksyde

'You sure about this, Big Cheese? We're against the clock to get this intel about the bomb back to Maximal territory, fast.' The three Junkions move fast along the ductwork of the Predacon stronghold. Alarm sirens, all but deafening. Yet Packrat was acting unusually nervous.
'Stow it, rookie! Rattrap knows what he's doing. We're almost there. We get in, grab the Alien gizmo and get out with BOTH the intel and a little extra. Before any Preds know we're here! This war could be over any day now. A few spoils won't be missed.'
'You're too calm about this, Snarl! By the Pit! Why don't we steal the Golden Disk while we're at it!?' The azure Transmetal rat exclaimed. Shoving a paw in his friend's nose.
'Cause if we steal de Golden Disk, Megs knows immediately and comes looking for it. Maybe bringin de entire Pred army wit him! Now pipe down, you two. I'm hearin voices ahead. Rampage, an Snapdragon. Now.. de gon quiet? Dis could be bad...'

After The War: Pre-History Earth

The Granite Peaks

'Wakey, wakey!' Optics fly open as Rattrap looks upon the Wrecker before him. Now in Beast Mode (a dog, of course). He's in restraints. Tough ones too. But he can't remove them with the Fed looking right at him. The dog simply sits, staring at him. Tail wagging, playfully. 'We have a problem, don't we Lt. Commander? A surprise service record matching your description. So, you are both not a Mercenary and Maximal no less. Albeit, a Maximal-Junkion. Yet I prefer not to profile. The door behind me, I assume was the destination of your journey? I've been using a laser torch on it for the past megacycle. Normally on a door this thick, I'd use some shaped explosives. But with how many strategic demolition charges you've placed throughout these mines. I don't like my chances should they be set off prematurely.' The last words uttered with a hint of bitterness. The dog tilting his snout down to the ground, eyes closed. 'Now, regardless of the warrant for your arrest. I'm at a loss due to Energon build-up. I've got to stay in this form for at least two megacycles. Without useable hands, that creates our problem.'
'I got hands.' Lifting his cuffed arms, Rattrap wiggled his fingers with a smirk. A quick assessment and Rattrap noted three distinct energy cuffs. At the elbows, torso and knees. Wouldn't take more than a cycle to break loose. Minus the audience.
'You do. Shiny ones, too. Alas, I have a friend en route. His are less shiny but strong enough to finish breaking that door down. Maybe even rip through it? It will take him about Five cycles to get here. So in the meantime, you can tell me what's behind a level five security door. Somewhat out of place in a abandoned mine. A little treasure trove, perhaps?'
Jus "Shiny", eh? Den he don't know?? A little musing and an idea crystallises in Rattrap's head.
'Dat's ..enough talk. Knievel Mode!' The energy cuffs fell to the ground, as Rattrap transformed into vehicle mode. Without missing a beat, the Wrecker was on his feet snarling. 'Don't do it! I'm K-9 of the Wreckers and you are not getting away.'
The Alsatian leaps towards his prey. At the same time, Rattrap accelerates at full speed under the Wrecker. Fleet of foot, K-9 lands and spins around in a single fluid motion. Speeding in pursuit. Although nowhere near as fast as the wheeled rodent, the Wrecker is determined enough that the gap between them never widens too much. Driving away from the door, Rattrap does feel the pull of his subconscious once more. The door is where he needs to be. But now he has the scent, this "K-9" will never let him go. The Wreckers have a well earned rep.
Slamming on his own brakes, Rattrap pulls to an immediate stop. While at the same time, pulling his tail taut as his foe advances. Too fast to dodge, K-9's legs are swept from him and his flies through the air into a near-by store room. Impacting head first, rending himself unconscious. Rattrap transforms and shots the door controls. A blast door slams shut and the Wrecker is, for the moment, sealed away. The danger over for now. He returns to the door.

Several hundred kliks away, a jet powered cyber wolf advances with unnatural speed towards the mountain range.

The closer Rattrap came to the door, the harder it became to think. Reaching for the control panel, he came close to passing out. What was happening here??
Clutching his head in pain, something was surging inside. He felt something shift and binary code erupted from his eyes. Directly into the panel. He passed out when the exchange completed.
Awaking with a start once again, the hall had gone dark. The power was out. The door wide open. Utter silence fell. But not for long. Rattrap heard the distant fizz of a laser torch. He knew what that meant. Rising to his feet, he walked without hesitation into the unknown room. His head clear, for the first time in stellarcycles.

A single monitor shone like a candle in the darkness. A record of an experiment was paused. Rattrap played it back. Dinobot appeared onscreen, adjusting the camera. No sound. He stepped back and the lens focused on an open Stasis Pod. A Transmetal blank, front and centre. Holding his chin, Dinobot continues to speak, to record his plan for posterity. He makes another silent emphasis. This time, holding the Golden Disk. Dating this exchange in his former friend's mind. Still with no audio, Rattrap was starting to get the gist of what Choppa Face was explaining. This was a failsafe. A back-up plan in the event of his death. Early in the Beast War, a run in with a clone had disturbed Dinobot more than any others knew. A later adventure wherein the Predacons had almost succeeded in faking their deaths had forged a plan of action in his mind. He had no intention of returning to Cybertron, nor Predacon territory. Should the war end in the Maximal's favour. He had a back-up in place. A Transmetal no less. He would continue to live out his life in solitude on this planet. The Energon radiation, no longer a factor. Also powerful enough to deal with any stragglers that might be left behind.
After clueing himself in, he turned around to see the now empty stasis pod. The hatch lock malfunctioning. Opening and closing.
'It was a problem I didn't foresee.' An incredibly large figure appearing as if from nowhere, exclaims in a gravely voice. Rattrap jumped. Turning to face the being that simply wasn't there a cycle ago. 'A broken stasis pod with a blank. The latter was thought to be the only fault. The pod itself, sadly was not in perfect order. When I ..died. A deadman's switch activated a copy of my datatrax. Uploaded into the blank and activating this process. But the damaged pod created feedback that shorted out the system. It opened ajar, before the Protoform was fully formed. The portable generator in the corner was fuelled by raw Energon crystals. These generated ambient Energon radiation that wouldn't have been an issue, had the pod remained sealed throughout the procedure. The radiation was shorting out my systems. Meanwhile the pod continued to heal me. I was both dead and alive for ..longer than I could say.'

Hands suddenly grip both Maximals heads from behind. 'A touching rescue mission aside. You convicts will have plenty of time to tell a judge on Cybertron.' The two friends were thrown with effortless ease back into the hallway. They ruled and rose to their feet in unison. Facing now, what Rattrap assumed to be the second Wrecker. A monstrous mish-mash of the techno organic. He too, a lot bigger than Rattrap felt comfortable with. The Wrecker and Transmetal beside him, seemingly larger than Megs himself. A metallic thud and a shudder through the floor, indicating the first Wrecker was now free. This was real bad.

'..Choppa Face? Dat really you?' Rattrap spoke. Knowing better than to draw a weapon at this point.
'Yes. Vermin. And ..no.' Dinobot answered with an unusually noncommittal attitude.

'Whateva. I'm guessin de gotta ship. We gotta bail. I bet even Preds heard of de Wreckers?' Dinobot's new empty eye sockets widened in what might even be fear and he silently nodded. 'Weird. I say dat and yet, you don't smell like a Pred no more?'
'A Maximal Protoform. The last link to my former life, let go.' He uttered quietly. Staring down at his new hands. Blades of intricate and unusual design. He was still unfamiliar with this new form.
'You ready?' Rattrap brought attention to the detonator in his thumb. 'Let's bring down de house!' Dinobot nodded as the two Wreckers closed the gap between them. They both paused and braced themselves as the explosions began and the whole mountain violently shock with tremors. A massive cave in soon followed. Rattrap gambled now on the durability of their Transmetal bodies. A desire for life returned to him that had been all but snuffed out for many cycles. It happened so fast he barely had time to register that he was suddenly on Dinobot's Beast Mode back. Hurtling down familiar corridors, towards the main gate. Dodging debris on all sides with an agility the rat couldn't hope to match. Rattrap felt a power building up in his friend. Before transformation beneath him hurled him briefly into the air. Landing on the shoulder of Dinobot. Before the former Predacon reared back in bot mode and unleashed a beam of devastating power from his mouth. Blasting a hole straight through the entrance of the mine. He then resumed his run and noting the collapsing boulders above, leapt high into the air. The next thing he knew, Rattrap was hanging from the landing struts of a Transmetal helicopter. The third form of Dinobot's new body.
'I detect a transmat probe about 40 kliks from here. Our new ship, I'd wager?'
'Eh Choppa Face? About dat code ya zapped me wit..'
'Yes. You unlocked the lab. The other part of my failsafe involved my best friend coming to my aid and perhaps remaining on Earth with me, after the war.'
'You coulda jus asked?'
'I was too busy ..dying at the time.' They both laughed for the first time on that planet in what felt like ages.

Now - The Cortex

'Dat's it.' Rattrap concluded his tale with a shrug.
'For Primus sake!' Magnus bellowed suddenly on the other side of the bars. The Maximals all jumped to their feet at this enormous newcomer. 'That "story" wouldn't have led to a galactic arrest warrant being issued by the Maximal Elders..' He continued, walking straight through the bars and scooping Rattrap off the floor with one hand. Cheetor and Dinobot assumed defensive stances. But the Wrecker leader made no further hostile intent towards them. 'That story, wouldn't have led to the collapse of diplomatic relations between the Maximals and the Vok - the "aliens" as you knew them on Earth. It wouldn't have led to a declaration of war against us. It wouldn't have led to our stellar comms arrays being deactivated due to Vok weaponry being deployed against US. Cybertron was left isolated and vulnerable before it was slagged because of you. Because of something ALL of you did. I don't know what it was but you're all to remain confined indefinitely in these cells, until I do!' He walked away and cast Rattrap to the floor as he did so. As he landed, Dinobot seemed to notice something odd shine beneath one of the hubcap shields on his back. Something he never noticed before? Rattrap accepted no help in getting to his feet and merely returned to his previous corner. Speaking no more that day.

Elsewhere, the Aegis System

'Damage report?' The voice crackled over the comms. Sparks and smoke seemed everywhere.
'Without the thick armour of your former Decepticon hide, we'd have been blown to slag by now! The entire system has been mined with Oracle platforms. There's security. Then there's overkill. This is definitely the latter. Cyclonus, whatever they are hiding down there it would be suicide to try another approach.'
'Oracle platforms... That means we need someone high ranking to access the passcodes.'
'Someone, like the Wreckers we tagged before we left Sanafar?'
'The very same, Mindwipe.' The tone of Cyclonus' voice, now calmer and almost joyful. 'Set course for a repair port in the next sector. Then, we are going to hunt some dogs...'

Chapter One

Part Seven: The Changing Tide

Predacon Symbol Ship Cortex

'I still refuse to believe it of any of them. Rattrap may have lost his way, but...' Primal couldn't finish. The hand on his shoulder and stern glance from Overbite was enough to give him pause. 'Boss Bot.. It has to be one of them. Everyone else checked out.' His other hand casting an accusing finger upon the monitor. Displaying the last three Maximals in the holding cells. 'Missing time. All three of em. An unaccounted period of absence. Rat Face took more than a few...'

'But Cheetor?' His protégé. The noted weak point to Optimus Primal.

'Somehow prevailed in a battle alone against a brigade of Fliers? All boosted by Aerogon, no less!' Magnus Omega added to the conversation. 'Dinobot is held separately to the rest. A Predacon assimilating a Maximal Protoform is it's own legally murky issue. Whenever we get to a point wherein a court can be convened.' He frowned at the very idea. When exactly would normality return? If ever?? No Cybertron. No infrastructure. As far as jurisdiction was concerned. The Wreckers were the last surviving arm of Maximal law enforcement. 'Everything from our colonies going dark to that Vok monster you encountered on Sanafar. It can't be coincidence.'


The Great Ship Malice - Three solarcycles earlier

'Wreckers, you say?' Her curiosity was piqued. Salvo had enjoyed her brief dalliance with one on Cybertron. Truly worthy opponents to her power. Terrorcon was less impressed.
'Yes. One was slain on the the planet. But I registered more. They appear to be guardians to the last remaining Maximals. I require this last cell to be crushed. There are three Reformed Worlds in that surrounding sector to make use of. Take as many Host as you will to achieve this goal.' Atop the black throne. It's preternatural light gave Terrorcon a demonic aspect.
'What of the Predacons? They continue to scavenge the ruins from the worlds of failed Reformation. Their numbers are fewer than their counterparts. But they are amassing resources and slaves in our wake.' Although descendants to the Decepticon race. Salvo bore no love for the Predacons. Cowards and bottom feeders in her eyes. Those with power should wield it. Not skulk in the shadows like vermin.
'They have their uses. Gathering the scraps of the Lesser into one place. For the Host to wipe them out more efficiently later.' Fingers gently tapped under the chin of the Neocon leader. 'Still. Intelligence gathered by Iguanus has given us the location of all hidden Predacon colonies. When we pass through the Gigas Nebula in one weeks time. We shall arrive at the largest such nest of these creatures. I expect you to have returned successful by that point. Be forewarned. Should you encounter any additional problems. There will be no communication possible between us until our exit. Now go!' Salvo bowed and took her leave onboard her Tetrajet. The purposely unnamed silver vessel held a special place in her spark. As a keepsake from her past among the Decepticons. Although not a Seeker itself. The design is no less evocative of the real thing. She set course for the closest of the Reformed in the Pantheon cluster.

Meanwhile - Now

'Well I know why the Vermin and I are here.' Dinobot affirmed. 'But not you, Cheetor? My sensors confirm, aside from the deactivated Predacons. There are no others confined onboard. Maximal or otherwise. Even Optimus Primal is currently situated on the bridge.' Both of his cellmates looked on in surprise. Before Rattrap and Dinobot cast a suspicious glance at Cheetor. 'Seriously!? That sounds ultra bad.' It was now Cheetor's turn to pace the cell again. Deep in thought.

'Body language is quite telling, you know bub?' Overbite observed with optics fixated on the now mobile Cheetor. 'Since Dinobot's little bombshell. He is betraying no anxiety, stress or unease. I think he legitimately doesn't know why he is there. That or he has a level of self control that most would be jealous of.'
'I still think Cheetor innocent of any wrongdoing. But to him, I would apply the latter. Brother Rhi went to great lengths to build him back up again. After his time as a POW to the Hive.' A pang of guilt undercut Optimus words. It took a long time to eventually free Cheetor. It took longer still, to heal the internal scars.
'From your reports. He has become an exemplary officer.' Omega spoke of Cheetor with some favour. 'It would be a great loss to us all if it is him. We have been charged with safeguarding the last known survivors of the Maximal race. But treason is still an executional offense. I will have no other option but to kill one of them. Provoking an ally to war against us. Does fall under that charter.' Reading the room, Magnus attempted to console Primal in some way. 'If anything, it would be easier on all involved if it were Dinobot.' All options weighed heavily on Primal.

'No treason if it's a Pred, eh bub?' They both nodded. Overbite's gut feeling ruled out this possibility however. The most positive outcome is rarely the one reached.

In the med bay, K-9 maintained his vigil over Wolfang's CR tank. The longest serving Wrecker was held in highest esteem by his compatriots. Rumoured to be a former Autobot. Yet even Magnus Omega didn't know for sure. Wolfang declined to speak of the past. Although what little he had let slip over their time together. Would imply that he wasn't among those present at the Battle of Nebulos.

Looking around and into the two other bays. K-9 saw Max hard at work on a new arm augmentation. His right arm in several pieces on an operating table. Alongside core components of his similarly dismantled blaster. A future concern, for us or our enemies? Too soon for K-9 to contemplate right now. In the next lab, rested the remains of Redfang. There was not yet time or facility for recycling. What remained visible of his face though, looked almost serene to the youngest Wrecker. In contrast, Wolfang looked pensive as ever. Even in stasis lock. Was he ever at peace? That too, was hard to think on.
He was about to strap himself into the nearby recharge slab. When the alarm sirens began to wail.
No rest for the Wreckers, as they say.

Arriving on the bridge, K-9 was quick to note everyone was at battle stations. The arsenal of a Symbol Ship was vast. All weapon systems were manned at this point. Magnus assumed the captains chair. The main monitor displayed at least fifty unknown fighters en route. What looked like a Tetrajet in lead formation.

'Hello Lover! It's so good to see you again. Miss me??' An uncanny and chilling voice of a Fem Bot crackled over the comm system.

'How could they have found us so soon!?' Overbite and Magnus exclaimed together.
'Who are they?' K-9 would find no answer to his question. Immediately when in range. The alien squadron opened fire in unison. An enormous barrage of energy blasts simultaneously hit the shield array. Overloading and disabling it outright. Then it was the Tetrajet's turn to fire. The nosecone parted, revealing a very large cannon.
Unfortunate yet likely by design. The enemy were still out of the Symbol ship's weapons range. When the Tetrajet fired. That was no longer a concern. The first blast bore straight through the centre of the ship. Guidance and targeting systems, offline. Subsequent blasts continued effortlessly puncturing holes throughout the ship. Key systems struck down with surgical precision. It took two direct hits to detonate the ships engine. In that instant, by luck or providence. No one was killed as the ship seemingly blew apart at the seams. Few had time to get their bearings, as all were cast out into the void of space. The Fliers reacted the fastest. Thankfully jet powered, Dinobot was able to assist Cheetor and later Primal, in rounding up the non-Fliers. Unphased by a lack of mobility, the three Wreckers opened fire on their aggressors. Magnus seemed the most determined in that regard. The Tetrajet made a pass over the group. Deploying a blast charge that detonated at their centre. This scattered all across space. All rendered offline. The Host swooped in. Picking up select targets and leaving the rest to their fate.
The surgical strike completed within five cycles.


Sometime later, Wolfang finally awoke. Yet something felt strange. Something felt off? He couldn't move. But this felt too small to be a CR tank? A Crimson Bat Bot emerged into his field of vision. A neon yellow visor lens, in lieu of traditional optics. A face plate constituted the rest of his face. 'You took your time to wake up, Wrecker.' The emblem on the shoulders, Decepticon. This was bad. He tried to move. To thrash against what must be a holding cell. Yet movement seemed weird. Almost too light? He couldn't speak ..somehow?
When the Armada drones entered the room behind the Bat. He knew how bad things were. 'The boss has need of those datatrax of yours. Yet, due to how you left him on Sanafar. He didn't feel compelled to ask nicely..' The Armada chuckled together. The Bat gave a muffled note of amusement. 'Don't worry about your friends either. You were alone and adrift in space, when we found you. If the boss hadn't taken a scan of your energy signature. We might not have? Lucky, eh?? Lots of debris around. Must have been quite the battle. I'm the medic of the Tantalus. The name's Mindwipe. Cyclonus is otherwise occupied. But he asked me to make you ..comfortable, for our trip to the Aegis system.' A button was pressed and a large stasis pod door began closing over the Wrecker. The reflection of light against the metal sent a chill into his spark. He floated in liquid Energon. He had no jaw or vocal processor. His limbs had also been removed. With a click of the latch, all then went dark.

Chapter Two

Part One: The Blessing Way

Playing dead was easy. Go into low power mode and just sit among the damned. The prisoners amassed in these cells. Broken. Physically, mentally or all of the above. Crosswind had much to contemplate alone among them. This was the largest prison freighter yet. The Predacons were growing bolder in recent times. Some unknown force was making their way through the universe. Assimilation or destruction were their only calling cards. The Predacons always lacked the numbers to rise up against their Cybertronian counterparts. A distinction that set them apart from their ancestors. These raids on annihilated worlds. The scant few survivors were pressed into slave labour. Eventually burnt out completely and recycled to further the growing Predacon war machine. Cruelty was definitely an inherited trait among them.

Crosswind cared little for that. He was on a mission. These victims were in need. Rumour had also spread that the forces ultimately behind all this were well aware of the Predacons activities. That a reckoning was coming. This ship was poised to be ground zero. The rescue plan, now or never.

They were only five. But already have undertaken several successful missions. This was the biggest yet. They couldn't guarantee walking away from this one by stealth. Unnoticed. The cargo hold had been quartered by forcefields into mass makeshift cells. The Preds cared little for any medical care their prisoners may need. Many didn't survive the initial extraction. But the numbers gathered offset any such losses. From a vantage point in the ductwork above, Spy tagged four heavily armed Predacon guards that patrolled outside the cells. Such a show of force was felt necessary should some more lively prisoners lay among the multitude of broken. Medic, to the outward observer, was another stasis locked bot among the piles of many. Her gaze was cast towards Crosswind. A soft strobe effect pulsing through her optics caught his attention. The signal. Relaying that everyone was in position. He silently rose to his feet. Not the biggest of bots. But as a Flier, tall enough to draw attention among the crowd. The guards all turned and clutched their rifles. 'S-settle down in there, scrapheaps!' The closest to him bellowed. A twang of nerves in his voice. From disparate corners they all gathered astride Crosswind's cell block. 'Sit down before we put you down. You'll be Home before you know it...' Rifles were raised as the emerald warrior made no response or motion to move. 'Your funeral. Control, drop barrier six.' Suddenly all power was shut down. Laser beams flared from Crosswind's fingers in the brief confusion. The guards all dropped down dead. Medic fully reactivated and sent out a psychic pulse for all to sleep. The prisoners then fell silent. A rescue mission on the scale of four hundred prisoners. Infinitely more manageable with such a multitude unconscious and not panicking.

Spy descended silently from the duct work. Looking up at Crosswind from hip height with a salute. 'Won't take the Preds long to realise they got a power cut in the cargo hold. We ready boss? Where's Jarhead??' The bulkhead doors swung up as if on cue and a huge winged Turtle sailed into view. 'Such a big mouth for such a small bot!' Soldier landed and loomed over his ally, his leader (and everyone else) before his final word was uttered. 'Keep it up and see how well you can make it home without me.' A prod from a single massive digit and Spy fell to the floor. His sidearm raised in defiance. 'Really? Try it!' Tension becomes palpable. Medic elbowed her leader.
'Enough!' Crossword ordered. Raising Spy to his feet with one hand. Shoving Soldier aside with the other. 'We have to ascend two levels and deactivate the shield generator. Blow the airlock for the cargo hold and signal for the dropship to decloak and get these people to safety. Now MOVE!!' The two Fliers transformed in unison. Crosswind's crescent shaped jet led the charge. Spy clung onto his nosecone. Medic sat in more comfort, atop Soldier's shell. As his four wings pounded with speed to almost match any thrustor. Clicking a trigger point in her knuckle. Medic sealed the corridor behind them with a remote charge. The prisoners would be safe for now.

One floor away from the shield generator, an alarm began to wail. Peering out into space through a window in the corridor. Spy quickly gathered it wasn't due to their presence. 'We got trouble!' Pillars suddenly burst through the superstructure of the freighter to emphasise his point. All at once, hatches began to open and many identical entities emerged. General design marked them as mechanical. As Fliers. But none that the team recognised. A strange emblem embossed their otherwise featureless faces. A single, central green eye glowed in contrast to the blue design. Continuous mild tremors indicating further rods were falling throughout the ship. For a brief moment all invaders were still. Thanks to the vaunted ceilings. The rescue team seemed to fly by unnoticed. Until the Predacons appeared! The cyclopean army set upon them instantly. Weapons had little chance to fire. Their speed, strength and ferocity were awe inspiring. Limbs were torn asunder. The screams of their enemies filled the ship and Crosswind's team moved faster and kept as far away from either side as possible. The melee however, appeared indifferent to their movements. They all knew this wouldn't last. Ahead, another pillar crashed through the doors to the shield generator. Six invaders descended and inadvertently blocked their advance. Still unnervingly silent and immobile. The cries of the Predacons were lessening behind them.
'1,6' Crosswind began the inner comms sound off.
'3,4' Soldier confirmed. You could almost hear the salute in his voice.
'2. Guess that leaves 5 for the pipsqueak!' Medic, sardonic as ever.
'Oh even the Doc's a comedian now, eh?' Spy would remember the affront. Even made in jest.
'On. My. Mark. ..Engage!!!'
Null rays retract from crescent wings. A temple patch is depressed and a visor lifts. The turtles two front wings invert, replaced by massive cannons and a sharpshooter withdraws an ion sniper rifle. The six invaders are atomised, melted, shattered and lobotomised in short order. There was little time to take stock of their foes. Smashing though the cylinder, they found the battle already raged in the generator room. Medic spring-boarded herself from Soldier's rear wing. Spy swung to Crosswind's underside, to avoid the scattershot weapons fire that was filling the room. Deftly landing next to the control console. Medic took the last, lead Predacon by surprise. Who was too distracted by the sudden appearance of unknown Fliers, buzzing around the raised gangways. A simple flip and momentum carried them over the railing, towards the certain oblivion of the core below. The other gangways were filling with the dead and dying Predacons. Only two invaders were responsible for all the carnage. Largely undamaged. Yet the corpses now halted their advance. Spy quickly threw two charges at them and both were engulfed in force bubbles. In spite of their best efforts to free themselves. For the time being they were subdued.

'Ok! Shields are down in two cycles. Let's get outside!' Her task complete. Medic punches through the control panel and leaps over the railing. Landing on Soldier's low pass before firing from her visor again at the predetermined stress point. The outer wall implodes and all four race into the void without fear. If the carnage of within was a helpful distraction to their mission. There was no such luck outside.
The cylinders extended just as far on the outside. Minus Predacons or the organised structure of basic ship design. Invaders silently amassed on the hull. Slowly making their way towards both the engines and the bridge. Unfortunately, between the team and the exterior of the cargo hold. At least fifty marched forward. For a brief moment. They all hovered in place. There was no pursuit from behind them. Above, the presumed enemy mothership. A vertical, wheel-shaped saucer. Encircled by a rim of hollowed circles. No doubt, the origin point of the cylinders.

That emblem again, emblazoned on the sides of the saucer. Crosswind found it extremely troubling that he had heard nothing about this faction? He recognised the brief shimmer of the cloaked escape ship. But it was in the shadow of the saucer's far side. 'Tinker's playing it smart, as usual.' A shared remark across the comms. 'Any ideas, boss? I surmise the invaders must be locked onto the energy signatures of the Preds. That's why we've gone unchallenged so far. Without any Preds out here. That could change at any moment.' Spy still clung the underside of Crosswind, as he spoke over the comms. His own altmode would be a disadvantage to the Fuzor in the void of space. He was all too aware of his own limitations. There was a moments pause before Crosswind responded. 'Tinker. I'm going to need you to break cover and head straight for the rescue site. Medic. Begin charging a psionic pulse. When I give the word, sound a retreat. Soldier. Proceed as planned. At the right moment, all four cannons on the extraction point. Spy. That's where you'll be. Draw them towards you and get ready to move when Soldier fires.'
'I'll be sure to give ya plenty of warning, loud mouth...' Soldier's inflexion put Spy on edge.
'You'll do as I command!'
'..Yes, sir.' Soldier replied, deflated.
'On my mark. ..Engage!'

None asked what part their leader would play in this strategy. Since normally it was the most dangerous and/or suicidal. In another life, Crosswind went by the name of Rhinox. Before being chosen by the Matrix itself. They all came from prior lives. The last of the Fuzors. Secreted away before the massacre in the Beast Wars. Hidden by Sky Shadow. The location of these next generation Fuzors, entrusted to his only Maximal friend. In his new guise, come for them he did. Though wary at first. Now, many missions in. They were spark bound to his cause. Their faith, their trust in him. Unshakeable.

A quick barrel roll and Spy was launched though space. Rappelling himself in position on the hull, behind the invader horde. No head turned to heed his advance. Withdrawing his sniper rifle. He detached and reconfigured it into two semi-automatic blasters. He terminated six of the rear guard, before they took notice. Turning in an unnatural way. They all stooped onto all four limbs and began to steadily charge at their attacker. Spy was enough of a sharpshooter to hold his own. For now.
Medic disengaged her own magnetic rappel from Soldier and controlled her ascent forwards until she was high above. Orbiting the invaders. Apparently too small to be noticed by their ship. Which she was grateful for. She began to charge her powers.
Soldier took his position next to her. Directly over Spy. Although they were far from friends. Soldier was secretly impressed by the efficiency of the battle prowess he observed below. A no-mans land of two kliks encircled his ally. The edge of which was now littered with corpses. None yet breached it. Knee to head. Shoulder to spark. Ammo was used effectively and with deadly precision. Physically weak, Spy had worked on his munitions training to an obsessive and ultimately, expert level.

An explosion overhead caught the attention of the two airborne Fuzors. Crosswind had engaged the enemy saucers. A succession of missiles and Null blasts into the launch hollows along the rim seemed to achieve substantial damage to the craft. As Crosswind wagered, there was no return fire. This was a troop transport. Not a battle ship. It began to lose it's orbit with the freighter. Soldier grew concerned it was going to fall on top of them. With the threat of danger from the vessel removed. The dropship decloaked and advanced towards the contact point.
'All units.. NOW!' The signal was given. Spy holstered his firearms onto his thighs and they converted his feet into rocket boots. Depressing both temple patches, Medic unleashed a tremendous wave of psionic energy. The Invaders writhed in agony and all transformed en masse. Fifty Fliers rocketed uncontrollably upward. Impacting into their own mothership as a barrage of missiles. Spy continued to soar towards his circling leader, as Soldier's four cannons unleashed their full payload on the hull below. The No-mans land becoming a crater point. The dropship took position above the hole and activated a tractor beam. The prisoners began to be drawn in. The mothership detonating beyond with the impact of it's last returning occupant. The team entered when the last prisoner was onboard and the dropship accelerated away and into Transwarp space.
Meanwhile, the remaining invaders completed their sabotage of the engines and bridge. All flew away in formation to parts unknown. Moments later ,the freighter too blew apart.

'They are called the Neocons. The soldiers are designated as "the Host". That's all I got from surface scans of their datatrax.' Medic didn't seem reassured from the limited information she could gather. No commander or controlling intelligence led that sortie. Confirming Spy's hypothesis that they were pre-programmed to specifically target the occupants of the freighter. 'Unfortunately, a scan of us was transmitted out before their ship blew.'
'Well that can't be helped. We'll have to be more vigilant from now on. Neocons, eh? Let's get these folks to the refuge. Good job team! This was a big win. Even if we didn't go unnoticed this time.' Crosswind smiled at the accomplishment for the first time in solar-cycles.


Epilogue, The Great Ship Malice


The Beast continued to defiantly exist. Every attempt to destroy it was unsuccessful. Even stasis lock didn't work. Fifty two days after my reported demise. The decision was made to imprison it within the bowels of the ship itself. For all that Vok knowledge, Terrorcon was still oblivious to future tech. He found me adrift in Transwarp space. Gauging my power as too much to control. My spark was extracted into a weaker, modern Protoform. My services were then called upon. The reward being "restoration" with my original body. I agreed. For my own amusement. Providing intelligence and tracking several key points of acquisition for the Neocons. Putting down one or two potential adversaries also.

The greatest assassin in the universe. A title earned centuries hence. But no less assured. Even the mystic witch could never fathom my datatracks. Nor glean any secret from them to aid herself or her master. My Transtector technology, similarly. Utterly bemused and beguiled them. The Beast isn't the technology. My spark was. The "Grand Emissary" assumed I was trying to keep my spark alive in our final moments through power diversion. I was merely buying time to complete the initial upload of my spark, back to where it belonged. That was the secret of Transmetal 2 technology. We survived the Great Plague by becoming malleable with our physical forms. The spark is who we are. The body, simply anything touched by it. The Beast will serve me here. There are none to challenge it in this backwater time. When the Tetrajet returned to the Great Ship Malice, from Sanafar. The uplink was established and my spark transferred back into The Beast. They had no way of knowing. Or even suspecting.
The weak form was recycled without ceremony. Terrorcon didn't even see to it personally. The moment the Malice entered the Gigas Nebula. Sensors scrambled. The time for subterfuge was over. I made my escape with such speed and stealth, I was in an escape pod in eight point six minutes.
I gazed upon the majesty of the vessel as I faded into the nebula. Through methodical planning and ruthless execution. The Neocon had all but won. Lesser beings would have been compelled towards revenge. But not I. That would have been suicidal. Instead, I have one gambit to play that should see me on top. The reign eternal of Iguanus, will then begin in this primitive age.