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Conjurors’ Playground © John H. Evans, Oct. – Nov. 2020

1920118193185113 loved the familiar unpredictability of hyperspace. Launching across the galaxy thrilled him. He could take a break from relentless ego existence and enjoy bold, shifting perspectives. At present, he was experiencing multiple conflicting emotions from various alien races. With his star ship, he was scorching through their territories: indirectly, of course. Hyperspace abutted tangentially on regular space-time. Defiantly, it was both inside and outside the tedious blackness (gauged with clocks and rulers). He understood the aliens’ viewpoints. It was as if he were possessing them body and soul for a short while. He didn’t want to control them, just drink up their experiences like a thirsty nomad encountering divine nectar. His spark was refreshed in ways that he never knew it could be. Time was elastic here so he savoured the feelings indefinitely. His life was a force that roared like a continent of beasts. Mechanisms be damned! He lived and breathed with the multitudes of squashlings. If he stayed much longer, he felt that he might become one of them and even start laying eggs. The travel sequence stopped that, though. 1920118193185113 alternated between regret and relief as the teleport crew brought the ship back into normal space. Those aliens knew that the ship had passed through their territories but they couldn’t prevent it. Besides, in a fight they’d always lose. Everyone knew it. No one messed with the Transformer army.

The ship had arrived in an uninhabited star system. It had an orange giant star and a smaller, yellow-orange star. There were six gas giant planets, thirty nine rocky planets, hundreds of moons and the usual billions of asteroids and comets. Before their work began, the Transformers performed a survey. They wanted to be sure that no life forms had evolved or set up home here recently. The psychics were the main surveyors. They also teleported probes to all major bodies. It was a prudent safeguard but they needn’t have bothered. The whole crew could sense the area’s deadness. Patiently, they prepared for tests while the surveyors performed their sweeps. Out here, thousands of light years from home, the ship was cut off from most Cybertronian brain chatter. The crew was more-or-less isolated and formed a bubble apart. The psychics dominated. There was constant mutual monitoring. No one wanted to be a dead renegade. It was all too easy to be led astray. Even hardy Transformers could come to grief, isolated and seduced by malign intelligences.

On missions like these, 1920118193185113 was called ‘19’ for short. As usual, he shared thoughts with the others. They reassured each other in thousands of small ways. Back on Cybertron, there would have been much more. The crew seemed sparse in comparison but, lost out here in the dark, there was greater emotional intensity. No one else was available to take up the slack. Just a few hundred stood against the desolate void. It was vital to complete their tasks promptly and then return to home comforts. 19 and many others were ashamed of their psychological weakness. They were glad of their little supportive, shipboard community. Everyone understood the problem. Beyond the simple, lonesome circumstances out here, the crew shared the perennial burden of the ‘Evil Exposure’. Many centuries earlier, all Cybertronian sparks had been scourged deeply by the cursed heart of planetoid ‘Oblation’. The diabolical entity, accidentally revealed by miners, had been thrust hard into deep space yet its influence persisted. It had sown psychic seeds that couldn’t be eradicated. Those seeds had brought forth invisible, thorny ‘vines’ that constrained and wounded Cybertronian spirits. Group support minimised the continuous discomfort.

The Exposure was probably the main reason for this mission. The Transformer race had become increasingly paranoid since that awful day. The mighty mechanoids’ bravado had been knocked back. They knew that they had at least one serious rival who could destroy them. Psychics sensed other rivals far away. Now, the Cybertronians sought ways to protect themselves. Exotic energy manipulation was a potential game-changer. Anyone with an aptitude for it was recruited and sent out for experimentation. 19 had been drafted ten years before. He’d been busy so he’d only had time for a few research missions. This was his seventh. It’d already been postponed three times. The High Command had had to get tough and force everyone to shelve their other work commitments so that this mission could finally go ahead. The H.C. had forbidden further delay. The ‘special ray mechs’ were to ignore distractions as far as possible and finish testing within thirty days, ship time. 19 and the others thought that the deadline was too tight but they were overruled. Cybertronian security came first.

Naturally, 19 wasn’t enjoying the slow-burn panic on Cybertron. He didn’t like to be reminded of potential Transformer weakness. On the other hand, he was glad to be here, finally. Executive power was good for something. The H.C. had cut the diary chains that kept him at home, co-ordinating air traffic and planning future developments in that field. Now he had a window of opportunity to collaborate on something weirdly profound and profoundly weird. He’d been pondering many new approaches and sharing them with his collaborators. Here, with fellow ray mechs, they could all be tried out. The life search came back negative, so the ray mechs were sent out to vacant planet 21. They brought a wide range of electrical equipment. Some pieces were monitors and recorders while others were targets. The latter sat there, blinking and humming, almost inviting special attacks. 19 wondered if this was right. Should he be looking forward to such ingenious, novel savagery? Where would it lead? Was it in their best interests?

Six talented Transformers paced slowly across the cratered plains of planet 21. Normally, electrostatic fields would’ve protected their joints from the dust and gravel that they stirred up. Unfortunately, their special abilities negated those fields. Instead, they used flimsy metal-fabric barriers that were lightly welded in place. Also, they spread fluids across the immediate area. These froze in moments and locked small debris in place. It was simple but effective. As a tertiary precaution, nanobots worked to dislodge dust from joints. The team of six assessed their pre-prepared targets. Without even starting, they knew that they could nullify the current in all of those dumb boxes. The team wanted to try a simulated attack while mobile. They transformed to ground and air modes. They drove, flew or ran around at different speeds and distances. Still, they could tell that their null rays would be fully effective. The rays would ignore the motion factors. To confirm, 82 struck from ninety kilometres away and target K was rendered inoperative. No other targets were damaged in this high-precision hit.

Null rays were true wonders. Among Transformers it was common knowledge, despite their misgivings. The rays that this team wielded were a kind of magic. They made electrical current disappear for as long as necessary. It was as if a small part of the universe were being rewired. Of course, the electrons weren’t reduced to nothing. They were shunted off into hyperspace and dispersed harmlessly. Electrical and electronic systems covered by the rays shut down, at least momentarily. That led to imbalances and overloads elsewhere. Electrons were blocked so normal operations ceased. Furthermore, normal life ceased. Cardiac arrest was inevitable. Nerves became useless. Muscles flopped down dead. Lungs couldn’t inflate. Mechanoid life was equally affected. Sometimes, backup systems could rescue a Transformer but those were vulnerable too. Unlike most weapons, null rays were highly selective. They would not spread beyond the designated targets. Explosions did area damage, bullets ricocheted and disintegrators undermined but null rays were restrained. That was the conventional way of things.

The H.C. had other ideas, though. What if null rays could go further? In fact, what if all exotic beams could go further? Were the Transformers bold and clever enough to achieve it?

19 and the other five wrestled with their consciences. It might be possible to expand the range of their null rays but it’d be very difficult and dangerous. Should they even make the attempt? 16 wanted to fake those tests and try to convince everyone that it was for the best. 47 wanted to try the tests because he believed they would fail, so it didn’t matter. 58 tended to agree with 47 but worried that one of the others would succeed. 82 thought that someone would make it work but that the process was too unreliable to make a useful weapon. 93 was the only one to support the beam expansion tests fully. He was intrigued and couldn’t hide it any longer.

What was wrong with 93? How could one of their own support this weapons programme so much? They tasted his growing desire for mass murder. On this matter, he seemed to have no reluctance or reservations, only burgeoning lust. He was also eager to learn the outcome of other tests, elsewhere in the system. The entire crew felt his dark urges and realised that he had to be stopped before he had a chance to do serious damage. The ship teleported into orbit and 93 was taken into custody. He was put into stasis for the remainder of the mission. He would be dealt with later, back on Cybertron. His craving for multiple deaths couldn’t be tolerated in peace time. The other five null ray specialists were chastened. Everyone here was walking a fine line. They had to keep a balance between caution and zeal for progress.

The null ray team were worried. They continued with simulations and dummy runs. They successfully removed current from another three targets, one by one. As the most skilful, 19 felt it was time to increase his targeting. He would attempt two boxes at once. He’d worked out the method beforehand, as much as he could. Now it was time to take the plunge. He knew that trials elsewhere in the system weren’t making many advances. Perhaps he could do better? He positioned himself fairly close to the targets and gave them his ‘best shots’. Single targets were fairly tough to neutralise. Two at once proved to be at least a hundred times tougher. 19 drew on brain power from several colleagues to assist. They complained that such measures were a sort of cheating. 19 retorted that networking was normal for Transformers. After a few minutes of intense mental effort, 19 succeeded in disabling one target and partially disabling the second. His brain reeled and the many collaborators also felt the strain. This had been a significant achievement but the price was rather high and the combat effectiveness was dubious.

Crew morale was subdued. 19 was one of their best. If he struggled to take out two targets at once, the rest would too. Attempting three or more targets was out of the question. As the planets rotated slowly and night drew near, 19 reasoned that he should turn to age-old practices: he should automate ray delivery. Transformers loved to automate processes. It was one of their key strengths. He would build intelligent devices to generate and fire the rays. They would have sufficient computing power for the task but no more than that. They would contain some of his element 150 molecules while he would retain the rest inside his body. This arrangement would make it exceedingly difficult for other people to use the ray generators. He would have more-or-less exclusive control of the weapons so their power couldn’t be stolen. The idea spread quickly through the crew. Everyone saw its value. Some began designing their own ray generators. 19’s notion was a welcome step forward. It would probably bear fruit. It wasn’t an immediate leap to super-powered rays but those might come later.

Meanwhile, the testing continued. Other teams in this star system were working on rays that affected brains, motor skills, circuits, sensory modules, balance and communication. There were also some who were going beyond simple disintegration into rust induction, friction alteration, freezing, fracturing and bending. One team focused on gravity alteration while another worked on advanced optical illusions, better than traditional holography. A few crew members had even more radical ideas like non-luminous light and tools made of energon. Improvements were steady rather than spectacular. This was what had been predicted so the crew was satisfied. In fact, they were relieved because of 93’s example. Excessive power might turn more of them into monsters. No one wanted that.

[Apparently.]

Between trials, the teams were obliged to rest and heal. They were pushing themselves far harder than usual. Some of their chips, circuits and other components were burning out. Exotic energy leaks were hurting the crew in completely new ways. The ships’ medics were kept busy. Often, it was easier to replace damaged body parts rather than repair them. Sometimes, crumbling components needed attention from several specialists before they were deemed ‘fixed’. Even then, they might snap later from a surfeit of tiny fissures. This research was breeding frailty that leaked out and saturated wherever it could. The ship was kept away from the active teams. It was as if they were highly contagious or space pirates. Many found it amusing that the ship had to be protected from a motley assortment of eccentrics with peculiar gifts.

During breaks, 19 and his team attempted to build null ray generators. They had full access to the ship’s manufacturing plant as well as the combined engineering wisdom of the crew. The most difficult part was rearranging atoms of element 150. This required extreme precision and also intuition. The five mechanoids were obliged to be patient. It took days to nudge the atoms into place. In the mean time, the other components of the generators were sourced, fabricated and assembled. Eventually, after many false starts, the team created two working generators. They were custom-built for 19 since he had the greatest skill in using null rays. Special care had been taken to protect 19 from the rays, which were channelled in one direction only. 19 mounted the generators on his shoulders and went out to the targets. He commanded the generators to disable two targets simultaneously. With automatic aiming, the generators worked flawlessly. The mental effort required of 19 was only a small fraction of what he’d used before. The two targets were neutralised with no collateral damage. Everyone was ecstatic at the success. 19 felt a tremendous rush of pride, power and accomplishment.

The other teams had been watching. Now they wanted their own labour-saving exotic energy generators. They copied and adapted the successful team’s designs. Fairly soon, they achieved their goal. Most of the crew could only operate one generator at a time so that was all they built. A skilful few opted for two or more. 82 opted for a more sophisticated design. He said that he wanted more flexibility. He claimed that he would master many types of exotic energy. His failed tests showed that he needed practice. He persevered. The others reckoned that he was aiming too high but, if he succeeded, the technology could be even more useful.

As dozens of crew members became adept generator users, the pioneers monitored the situation and continued testing their own equipment. Everyone tried to remain alert. The tests were generating millions of signals, both in regular space and hyperspace. These could attract powerful people or creatures to the area. No one wanted an ambush or other enemy action at this critical time. The star ship’s psychics were on high alert for any danger. Evacuation and retreat were distinct possibilities.

Since their research time was limited, the crew pressed on with their experimental efforts. Barely had they assembled their generators than they resumed their wide-beam attempts. Their star performers were given maximum support in a bid to spearhead the charge. Despite this, they failed to increase beam radius by more than fifty percent. Having long considered this issue, they were convinced that the problem lay in their emotions. They thought that they were too fearful of consequences. They resolved to act boldly, as if lives were at stake. (For all they knew, lives could be at stake.) This isolated community fostered an artificial sense of desperate anger and used it to fuel their efforts.

Over on airless planet 36, a team of four had been working on atomic destabilisers. The leader unleashed a broad blast from his generator. He aimed at a large rock formation that was already damaged by previous tests. The cracked mound was fatally destabilised. Throughout the mass, atoms were split into smaller atoms. This wasn’t a runaway chain reaction, yet molecular cohesion failed. The battered stone pile collapsed all over the surrounding plain. The effect didn’t stop there. The plain itself was peppered with sudden molecular splits and sank down many metres under the weight of debris. The exotic energy kept washing outward in all directions. The team saw the threat, transformed and fled. 205, the slowest member, was caught at the very edge of the active field. Although the beam’s power was almost spent, the unlucky truck felt his vital components fracture. His engine sputtered to a halt while his brain shattered and his spark departed. As his unfortunate superstructure was reduced to irregular shards, the shocked crew saw their worst fears come true. They’d made further progress but the price was too high. They knew that they shouldn’t go on. 205 had become a casualty of their greedy power grab. The lethal side-effect should’ve brought them to a halt. However...

...they didn’t want to fail. They needed that power, despite the awful blow-back. It could be harnessed properly, with the correct precautions. All they had to do was calculate the safety margins...

...but then, what were they thinking? There was a gaping chasm where 205 had been. That old friend, by his very absence, was indicating clearly the need for restrictions. He’d never led them astray...

...then again, he wasn’t here anymore. Could one unfortunate death prevent such a major breakthrough from being brought to fruition? There were many precedents that contradicted the cautious view. Did hundreds of lost lives halt hyperspatial travel? No. How about off-world mining? No. Cybertronian deep-structure materials research? No. The project should go on...

...yet not right away. They had to take stock and adjust after the trauma. They certainly had to rethink their approach. The rebound effect had to be programmed out. They’d achieved this much; surely they could clear this hurdle! When they’d done that, they’d have to...

...what? Strangely, they’d forgotten. It was uncharacteristic. Maybe it was the stress. Tremendous stress. Their thinking was disordered. They needed to relax and reset. They’d finish this project, return to Cybertron and recuperate in their brothers’ mind-net. No need to fret about... imaginary bogeys and all that trash. They’d be fine.

On planet 21, the null ray team felt numb. They’d known 205 well. He’d helped them all in the past, from time to time. Now he was gone and the whole galaxy felt different. 82 asked if they wanted to continue testing. None of them did. 82 carried on regardless, twiddling his numerous digital dials. He was trying out millions of settings. 19 observed with concern. What was 82’s deal? Was he trying to blot out the death? Was he in shock? Perhaps he didn’t really care. If he’d stopped caring, that was a major problem. 19 tried to read his mind and find the truth. For the first time in decades, he couldn’t. He was unable to connect with anyone, in fact. He was locked out. That was an even greater problem.

The interference around here was stupendous. The two local suns were bathing the area in copious radiation. Many of the planets had powerful magnetic fields. Cosmic radiation was also high. On top of that, the experiments were showering everyone with stray particles. 19 couldn’t send signals to anyone. What was going on?! He suspected a trap. If he discussed it with the others, they might turn on him. Leaping gracefully upward, he transformed and accelerated toward the ship. Within seconds, he was hypersonic and closing on the sleek, interstellar craft. He’d cover the distance unaided because he trusted no one right now.

It was terrible to be offline so abruptly. 19 clung to his sanity and relied on his isolation training. In the past, sudden network failures had felt like drowning in a sea of loneliness. He did his best to suppress those memories. He had a new focus: to investigate the ship, centre of their psychic ‘island community’. He had to forget his comrades for the moment and assess the situation ahead. He calmed his thoughts to reduce his psychic profile.

Several minutes later, 19 finally caught up with the ship, transformed and landed next to one of the hatches. He used an emergency control panel to interface with the entry mechanisms. There was no problem getting inside but the atmosphere inside felt foreboding. The ship was fairly small so 19 soon reached his quarters. As he replenished his energon and armed himself heavily, he learnt what he could from raw data streams without exposing himself to cybernetic sabotage. Most systems were operating normally but communications were now restricted. The psychic team had suppressed free will as far as they could and established a covert, ad hoc dictatorship. 19 had little tolerance for such moves and vowed to break their control.

Was he a fool, going up against such tough opposition? The psychic team could destroy his mind whenever they wanted. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have much chance. Today, though, they hadn’t even challenged him. It appeared that normal service was suspended. The odds were greatly improved. He’d honed his combat skills over the years and acquired a superb arsenal. He was very familiar with everyone on board, so he knew their weaknesses. To cap it all, he’d just developed superior null ray capabilities. He was as ready as he’d ever be.

“You know, I don’t actually need most of these weapons,” said 19 as, without warning, he burst into the teleport chamber. “Could you hold them for me?” Still in flight mode, he detached nearly all his guns and missiles. Then he spun around so that the weapons flew toward the psychics. The teleport team appeared to be completely unprepared as they were hit by ordnance, in a non-lethal way. Half a second later, 19 sprayed the team with null rays, rendering them unconscious and immobile. He finished his mid-air pirouette, landed perfectly and admired his handiwork. He’d knocked out the whole frakking lot in one strike, with no fatalities. That was real skill and also considerable good fortune. Someone or something had rendered them weak and sluggish, at least temporarily. They’d failed to anticipate his arrival or react quickly when he entered the room.

To retain the advantage for a short while, 19 put all the unconscious psychics in restraint harnesses. Star ships had many such harnesses on board, in case of attacks and personnel problems. It was odd to have the entire team laid out chained on the floor. This sort of thing hardly ever happened. 19 was glad that he’d known a shortcut into the teleport chamber. He’d removed the elevator platform and flown straight up the narrow shaft. Such a feat was considered almost impossible but then 19 was an ace flier. He was pleased with his performance thus far yet less confident about the next part. Several decks down, a muffled explosion boomed out. That was 19’s doing. He gathered up his scattered weapons. He expected a proper fight in a few minutes.

On deck 8, the thought criminal known as 93 was taking out his anger on the ship’s systems. Having somehow been revived, he was now using his null rays to cripple large sections of wiring. 19’s bomb drone hadn’t hurt him too badly when it scuttled up to him and detonated. 93 was pretty tough and had been able to break out of his cell. He knew that 19 was coming. He could feel the first ripples in the air as the flier blasted down corridors toward him. Snarling, 93 ducked down and cranked his entropy field to maximum. Lights dimmed and failed. A chill set in and nearby panels tarnished. 19 sensed the threat and hugged the ceiling as he sped past. 93 lashed at him with a null ray but just missed. 19 flew around a corner, landed two hundred metres away and launched numerous guided missiles at 93. Null rays neutralised some of them before they made contact. At least five failed to explode on contact, also because of null rays. The remainder exploded but did little damage. 93 was tougher than ever.

“It’s a shame about your attitude,” said 19 curtly. “You’d like the productive research on the testing ranges. They’re making great strides. We have so many new weapons now.”

“Small-scale party tricks,” retorted 93 in a deep, menacing voice. “They won’t survive when the children are all slag at my FEET!” He opened fire with some kind of powerful rifle. Pieces of wall flew everywhere as the beam punched through rooms, ducts and furniture. There wasn’t much time.

“One of my old friends has developed this bizarre stuff,” said 19, concentrating hard. “He showed me how to make it. Let me tell you, it’s not easy.” Using his original ability, 19 extracted a black substance from another dimension. He was barely able to levitate it and send it around the corner into 93’s eyes. It stuck fast there, causing momentary blindness and confusion. 93 tried to remove it but his fingers went right through it. As he struggled, 19 went to the corner and fired his null rays. 93 was hit in the brain and knocked out cold. He dropped the rifle and collapsed. The entropy field faded away and thus allowed ambient light to increase. It was still fairly dark and cold, with an unwelcoming atmosphere. 19 quickly crammed 93 into a restraint harness, checked that he was really unconscious and then retreated. The mysterious bad atmosphere sucked energy from 19, causing him to sit on the floor and rest. The stress of this whole voyage was catching up with him. His eyes closed and consciousness fled away.


* * * * *


“You dance well,” said 93. “It’ll make killing you more entertaining.” 19 opened his eyes and turned his head. 93 was standing over him. 19 tried to move but couldn’t.

“We are partners for now,” continued 93. “It’s an extremely grand dance. Countless people are taking part. I’m happy that a few of you are trying to improve. When you open your minds to new moves, new energies, the whole performance is elevated.” Alarms shrieked in 19’s mind. 93 had been possessed by a great evil. 19 was in mortal peril. He had to escape. He needed emergency power, so he reached for it through the aether. His array of element 150 enabled him to kick-start his stalled body. He rolled away and leapt to his feet. He looked around for a second.

This wasn’t the star ship. Where was he? The layout was different. The corridor was narrower, darker and dirtier. Parts of it were littered with old debris that were coated in grime and organic growths. He’d investigate later. Now, he had to fight for survival. He charged up his null rays and fired. Nothing happened. 93 seemed to absorb the anti-energy. His self-satisfied smile broadened into a grin.

“Different place, different laws,” said 93. “Heroics have no benefit here.”

“I’m not trying to be a hero,” said 19 as he unleashed conventional cannon fire. “This is pure survival.”

“That’s a matter of perspective,” said 93 as shells bounced off his body and exploded against walls. “You could’ve simply escaped at thirty thousand kilometres per hour. The door’s behind you.”

“I doubt that you’d permit it,” said 19, dismayed that his weapons were ineffective. “Maybe this way I can buy myself a few moments and a little satisfaction.” He fired heavy grenades. 93 extended his entropy field and stole chemical energy from the explosives. The inert grenades fizzled and fell. 19 felt his strength being sapped rapidly. If he didn’t fly now, he’d never make it out. He transformed and flipped over to retreat at high speed. Fifty metres later, he slammed into a door that had closed suddenly. 93 strode over to him. 19’s nosecone was bent and buckled. He transformed ready for a brawl. Before that could happen, 93 extracted most of his energon and left him defenceless. 93 seized 19 by the neck and hoisted him up so he dangled limply half a metre above the floor. 19 could feel his spark flicker and falter. His lifespan had been reduced to a few minutes.

“Now now, tiny dancer,” gloated 93. “I want you to play your part fully. Remember that I’m your boss. I call the shots. You’ll be one of my leading chaos bringers. Whenever you disagree with the powers that be, challenge them. If they don’t react appropriately, outmanoeuvre them. You’re superior. Bring them into line or BRING THEM DOWN. Am I clear?!” 93’s evil was like a blast furnace. 19’s courage melted. His resistance fell apart. He was alone. He couldn’t fight this. He had to obey or die. He capitulated. 93 felt it happen: he nodded and grinned in acknowledgment. He dropped 19 and began to fade away.


* * * * *


19 awoke later, lying in a medical bay. He was back on the ship. He realised that the other place had been a polluted dream. He remembered what had just happened. The thought of it repulsed him. Panicking, he tried to escape. Luckily, the medical staff had taken standard precautions and restricted most of his movements. He could only wave his arms weakly and twist his head around. His minor struggles attracted immediate attention.

The psychic known as 05 came to his bedside and did his best to calm him down. Telepathy had been re-established so speech was once again unnecessary. 05 and many others thanked 19 for preventing 93’s rampage. He’d certainly saved lives and minimised breakages on board. 19 felt very strong support from virtually the whole crew. They were doing their level best to raise his spirits and expunge his latest, supernatural trauma. It was a huge relief but one issue remained. That was cleared up next. 93’s spark had been exorcised. To prevent evil’s return, that spark had been split into six equal pieces. It would be placed into six new bodies back on Cybertron. This was a drastic measure but necessary given the strength of the adversary.


* * * * *


Time passed. The mission ended. The ship returned home. There were no further major incidents. The crew didn’t dare bring further jeopardy to themselves or anyone else. They delivered the pieces of arch-renegade 93 to his new handlers for long-term monitoring in their new lives. As they went back to their normal routines, the research crew members were debriefed by the global collective. The message they brought was clear: wide-beam exotic energy was tempting to pursue but exceedingly difficult to wield and insanely dangerous too. There were direct hazards to life and land plus possible interdimensional incursions. The limited benefits were completely outweighed by potential perils. The Transformers were immensely grateful for the bravery of the intrepid researchers. All were generously rewarded with gifts and upgrades. Unfortunately, none of this could quite compensate for the second Exposure that the crew had suffered. Their fear would persist for a long time. It would irritate them immensely and change some of their life choices later.

Despite a great deal of specialised assistance, 1920118193185113 remained troubled. He couldn’t forget the day his spirit was broken. However briefly, the evil entity had made him submit. He’d embraced that submission. He felt forever humbled. He’d become a victim. He’d been caught out there, snared among the stars where no one could hear him scream. The only alternative to perpetual victimhood was increased strength. Henceforth, he felt compelled to amass power and influence. Sometimes it would come through brute force but mostly it could be acquired through careful planning and cunning improvisation. The collective said there was no need: they’d protect him. 1920118193185113 had lost faith in them, though. After all, where’d they been when he needed them? He felt more self-reliant now. For safety, he would stick to small-scale null rays. Any more than that was unnecessary. He had excellent skills, both in action and in preparation. The galaxy had better beware!




Notes

In my continuity, this story is set many centuries before the Autobot/Decepticon war.

16 – later becomes known as Whirl (Autobot)
19 – later becomes known as Starscream (Decepticon)
47 – later becomes known as Stranglehold (Decepticon)
58 – later becomes known as Slapdash (Autobot)
82 – later becomes known as Shockwave (Decepticon)
93 – later becomes known as Monstructor (Decepticon)

Also present on this mission are:

Future Autobots - Air Raid, Axer, Blaster, Brainstorm, Cliffjumper, Cloudraker, Crossblades, Doublecross, Doubleheader, Downshift, Eject, Fireflight, Hosehead, Joyride, Landfill, Mirage, Rad, Repugnus, Rollout, Sky High (pretender), Skydive, Smokescreen, Tracks, Trailbreaker, Waverider, Windcharger, Wingspan

Future Decepticons - Blitzwing, Carnivac, Crankcase, Cutthroat, Darkwing, Drag Strip, Fangry, Headstrong, Horri-Bull, Mixmaster, Motormaster, Nautilator, Needlenose, Octane, Quake, Ravage, Roadgrabber, Runamuck, Scorponok (in a smaller body), Skyhopper, Snapdragon, Snaptrap, Spinister, Swindle, Trypticon (in a smaller body)

Future double agents - Doubledealer and Punch/Counterpunch

A few hundred other Transformers (unnamed).