The Energon Pub

PART 216

THE PLANET OF JUNK

——Tantrum shouted at the decapitated head he held between his hands.
——”Where are they?” he demanded. “Where are the Autobots?”
——“Where’s Waldo?” the head taunted. “Please, madam—! Check the lost and found!”
——“EeRRraghh!” Tantrum threw the head away in frustration.
——A headless body lying nearby shot a grappling hook out of his forearm and retrieved the noggin from the scrap pile that it had been yeeted into. Then he retracted the grapple and replaced it with an arc welder, which he then began using to reattach his severed head.
——Tantrum was amazed, yet incensed by the Junkion’s ingenuity. He transformed into alt-mode and charged, intending to crumple the Junkion completely. He snorted and changed direction at the sight of a whole gang of them riding motorcycles toward him.
——“You’re on our turf, Buffalo Smurf!” yelled the lead Junkion. “Git along li’l doggy!”
——Tantrum had a new outlet for his anger. He charged headlong into the axe swinging motorcyclist, sending the rider flying over his back when he collided with his living mount. The other bikers rode past, covering him in a storm of cuts. Then they continued on, roaring down a road of wreckage.
——The damaged biker propped himself up against a pile of junk, laughing to himself as he rummaged around for his missing leg.
——Tantrum could barely stand, yet he pawed the ground, preparing for another charge. His four exterior fuel tanks—one mounted above each leg—were all leaking.
——“Nice friends,” snorted Tantrum. “They left you to die.”
——“Wreck-Gar’s the name!” shouted the Junkion. “Collecting and saving is my game!”
——“Hows about you change it to just Wreck?” growled the galloping Predacon.
——Wreck-Gar attached a flamethrower to his stump with the speed of a pit stop mechanic.
——“Need a light?”
——The Junkion leader raised his flamethrower-leg and lit Tantrum aflame. The burning robotic buffalo cursed and kept coming anyway. Wreck-Gar grabbed his shield.
——“Brace for impact!”
——Tantrum’s legs exploded out from under him. He reverts to robot mode, screaming in the flames with pieces of his current form either missing or melted away.
——“Where’s the beef?” grinned Wreck-Gar. “It’s cooked!”




——Camouflaged within a pile of refuse, Razorclaw is ready to explode into action. He pauses at the last astrosecond when he hears the sound of singing beside his prey.
——“Youuu are not alone, I am here with you…”
——A female Junkion with a sultry voice rose slowly from the trash. Wreck-Gar stumbles upright in staged surprise.
——“Wowzers! It’s the one… THE ONLY… Nancy Wreckage!” exclaimed Wreck-Gar.
——Wreck-Gar wrenched a horn off Tantrum’s head and dropped to one knee.
——“My love, will you marry me?”
——Nancy’s optics widened. She gasped and laid a hand over her fuel pump.
——“Just say no. But I say yes, baby!” she replied, throwing her head back. “Oh, yes… yes… YESSS!”
——Wreck-Gar placed the detached horn over her ring finger. Then they both stepped onto Tantrum’s back and locked lips.
——Wreck-Gar’s motorcycle transformed holding a rusted replica of the Convenant of Primus.
——“I now pronounce you mech and wife. May you both function happily ever after.”
——“These rattletrap robots appear to be insane. Also, indestructible on their home planet,” analyzed Razorclaw. “Our quarry has chosen formidable allies. Divebomb will continue to scout from the skies. The rest of us will lay low… until it is time to strike!”

(to be continued)

PART 217

——Divebomb flew high over the cliffs of Junk, attracting the attention of a guard standing below. As the sentry stared at the sky, someone slipped a hand over his mouth from behind.
——“Don’t even think about reaching for a weapon,” whispered Hot Rod.
——The Junkion looked to his right and saw the barrels of three wrist-mounted blasters pointed at his brow. He felt a knife pierce the back of his neck, and then his knees buckled.
——“That’ll keep ‘im,” Kup said, looking down at the twitching guard. “He can’t repair himself if he’s paralyzed.”
——Hot Rod pointed his wrist blasters at the disabled Junkion’s head.
——“Maybe we should terminate him, Kup. Then hide the body.”
——Kup knocked Hot Rod’s arm away.
——“What’s gotten into you, lad? The Junkions are our allies!”
——“They sure don’t act like it.”
——“They’ve fallen under a bad influence. They’re highly impressionable.”
——“This is all my fault that we’re even here, Kup.”
——“Nonsense. The Predacons ambushed our evac site on Cybertron. You didn’t know they were lying in wait. Blurr didn’t see ‘em either.”
——“Before that. When Prime battled Galvatron. Prime told me to fall back and I didn’t listen. I thought I had him, but I messed up… and Prime got hurt.”
——“You can apologize to him later if we ever make it off this planet alive. Now, shh! They’re bringing Ultra Magnus and the others out now.”
——Kup and Hot Rod spied down into the valley where Swindle was about to hold court. The crowd gathered in front of his throne separated as Rubbish and Re-Cycle brought six captive Autobots in energon rings to stand trial before him.
——Springer couldn’t hide his contempt.
——“Spawn of a glitch—! Swindle, is that Devcon the bounty hunter’s head you’ve got on the end of your scepter!?”
——“Yup.” Swindle rotated it so that the Autobots could see the atrocity from all angles. “You like it? It’s one of a kind. I’d offer to sell it to you for a good price if I wasn’t about to sentence you to death!”
——“So what’s even the point of all this, Swindle?” heckled Rollbar. “Get on with it!”
——“NoNoNo,” protested Blurr. “NoRush! TakeYourTime!”
——“I’m more curious to how all of THIS happened,” inquired Perceptor.
——“Me too,” replied Arcee. “The last we heard, Swindle, you were Devcon’s prisoner!”
——“Oh, that idiot damaged his cerebral circuitry when he crash landed here. He wasn’t able to speak, so I spoke for him! After a few conversations I had with some of the more “enterprising” Junkions on this planet, they put my bumper on a throne and Devcon’s head on a spike!”
——“In other words,” deduced Ultra Magnus. “You scammed them.”
——“Hey! Hey! Watch your mouth! I’m an honest, law abiding ruler of Junk now. If Wreck-Gar wants to ride around all day playing the rebel, that’s fine with me, but I’m the people’s choice! AND in keeping with planetary customs, I’ve even built myself a bride. I had some of the bots help me put her together, then I gave her the Spark that I had rolling around in my glove compartment. Say hello to Trash, folks!”
——A spindly Junkion with a cheetah print painted torso, two breast-mounted missiles, a white face, and a red head stepped forward.
——“Do you ever fantasize… about being killed?” she asked.

(to be continued)

PART 218

5 minutes ago

——Divebomb discovered Rampage sitting in front of a large screen TV, headbanging to heavy metal in an open-air living room. The mechanical eagle reconfigured to robot mode and landed behind his recliner.
——“I’ve found the Autobots. Come, Rampage. It is time to go.”
——“I’ve decided to sit this one out. I’m watching Cold Slither! They truly are the universe’s most talented musicians!”
——Divebomb leveled his particle beam rifle at the TV.
——“NOW, you oversized trash goblin.”
——“I said NO!”
——Divebomb pulled the trigger and the TV exploded. Rampage transformed, intent on killing him for the offense.
——Divebomb converted and took to the air, soaring out of harm’s way before his parts could be pounced upon.
——“Save that aggression for the Autobots! Follow me!”
——The tiger bounded after him, navigating an endless maze of miscellaneous junk below.

2 minutes ago

——Divebomb transformed and dropped down in front of a sheet of rusted metal.
——“Where are the Autobots?!” snarled Rampage.
——Divebomb held up his hand to ward off an attack by his triggered teammate.
——“Hold on! I have hidden something here.”
——“It had better be good.”
——”It is.”
——Divebomb slid back the sheet to reveal what was left of Tantrum.
——“I concealed Tantrum so that the Junkions would not strip him. I had planned on returning here to devour him, but it has occurred to me that we may have to form Predaking at some point during the hunt. The Junkions are more formidable than any of us realized.”
——“Fah! We should eat him anyway,” suggested Rampage, as he prowled Tantrum’s prone body. “He’s had this coming for a long time.”
——Tantrum slammed his fist on the ground. “I still function! You creeps try to eat me and I’ll stomp you out!”
——“With what?” snickered Rampage.
——Divebomb resumed his previous form. “Enough,” he said, lifting Tantrum with his talons. “Hopefully we’ll get an opportunity to feast upon him in the future. Right now we have to rendezvous with Razorclaw.”

(to be continued)

PART 219

NOW

——“Do you wonder… about all the different ways of dying?” Trash asked her captive Autobot audience. She ran her hands over her own sleek form as she spoke. “The worst way,” she continued. “Would be for a bunch of Predacons… to get around me… and start biting… and eating me alive…”
——“Predacons, attack!” roared Razorclaw.
——The crowd scattered as the Predacons spread across the courtyard, attacking in beast mode. Razorclaw caught Trash by her rear tire in mid-conversion.
——“But first… a snack before play time!”
——Razorclaw tore the metal off Trash in strips. Rampage arrived to scavenge what remained, leaving nothing behind but her missile rack.
——Swindle felt as if his fuel pump had just been broken.
——“Kill those guys!” he raged. “And strip ‘em for parts!”
——Divebomb dropped Tantrum’s big body down on Swindle from above. The thunderous crash drew his embattled elite guard back to him, though they quickly came to the conclusion that their ruler could not be easily extracted from the twisted wreckage of his own throne.
——Kup and Hot Rod skied down a trash filled slope into the courtyard. Once on solid scrap, Hot Rod let his wrist blasters blaze, freeing four Autobots from their energon restraints before Kup could reach even one.
——“Nice shootin’, kid!” said Rollbar. “Now let’s take the fight to them!”
——“Hot Rod, Rollbar, come back!” ordered Ultra Magnus, as the two transformed and sped off. “It’s Swindle’s Junkions versus the Predacons, this isn’t our fight!”
——Hot Rod and Rollbar ignored Ultra Magnus’ command and steered toward the melee in the middle of the courtyard. The Predacons therein had already savagely dismantled Swindle’s security forces and were now attempting to do the same to the rank and file.
——Headstrong charged into several members of the esteemed Junkion jury from the rear, knocking them aside like bowling pins. He then transformed to robot mode and let his plasma sphere shooter rip, turning Junkion soldiers into spare parts with exploding balls of energy.
——“There’s still too many of them!” warned Divebomb. “We’re being overwhelmed!”
——Divebomb spread his wings, ready to beat an aerial retreat in the face of superior numbers.
——“These heaps keep putting themselves back together,” grumbled Headstrong. “We can’t beat the Junkions in a planet sized junkyard!”
——“We can’t,” conceded Razorclaw.
——“BUT PREDAKING CAN!” boasted Predaking, as his five components fused together.
——Once fully formed, Predaking decimated the Junkion’s ranks by blasting them apart and triggering avalanches that buried those parts beneath tons of trash. Then he began stomping the fleeing ones flat.
——“DIE, INSECTS!”
——Hot Rod swerved away from one of the giant’s footfalls. To his horror, Rollbar wasn’t so lucky. Rollbar’s attempt to replicate Hot Rod’s maneuver resulted in him rolling over on his side. The Throttlebot transformed to right himself, but it was too late. Predaking’s foot came down on him like a car crusher.

(to be continued)

PART 220

——“That menace just killed an Autobot!”
——Kup stitched Predaking’s chest with staccato bursts of acid bullets. Hot Rod transformed, bit his lip, and lit up his target from head to toe.
——Predaking didn’t seem to notice.
——“Cease fire!” ordered Ultra Magnus. “We’re rolling out. Let Swindle’s people deal with Predaking!”
——“What’sThatSound..?!?” cautioned Blurr. “It’sComingCloser!”
——Moments later, an army of motorcycles and their riders roared down from the Junk cliffs toward the raging Combiner.
——“Here comes the calvarryyy!” trumpeted Wreck-Gar.
——His lieutenant, Trashbin, mimicked a bugle call used by armies on Earth as he made the jump alongside his leader.
——“Looks like Wreck-Gar’s gang just joined the fight!” shouted Springer.
——“Well,” sighed Ultra Magnus, “THIS certainly changes things. Autobots, we’re to assist Wreck-Gar’s rebels… support roles only!”
——The Autobots spread out across the garbage strewn wasteland, assisting any way they could. Most provided suppression fire for damaged Junkions as they put themselves back together. Others, like Blurr, retrieved lost parts and returned them to their owners, helping to restore Wreck-Gar’s warriors to battle ready status in record time.
——It didn’t make a difference. Predaking was one being who moved as many. He used the double barreled mortar shell launchers on the front of his feet to detonate the battlefield before him, leaving two dozen wrecks mixed in with burning debris. While his toes tore through the Junkion vanguard, the cannons mounted on his shoulders and right arm annihilated their reinforcements.
——Meanwhile, in the trash trenches, Nancy rallies a platoon of two-wheeled warriors for a rear assault.
——“Leash the beast!” they chant. “Leash the beast!”
——Nancy peels out onto the open road in vehicular form. “Pull up to my bumper, baybeee!” she commands, leading the charge.
——Predaking generates an electric field around himself as they approach, foiling her forces’ attempt to flank him. Then he uses his left arm to topple a mountain of trash on what remained of her husband’s troops, burying them all within the rubbish.
——Wreck-Gar, armpit deep in discarded items, plucked a bullhorn from amongst the refuse and announced that “THE END IS NEAR!”

(to be continued)

PART 221

——Predaking aimed his arm-cannon at Wreck-Gar. His followers began to throw whatever they could find, while the Autobots—scattered across the battlefield—opened fire on the Combiner from every angle.
——“THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE KING OF THE JUNGLE,” proclaimed Predaking.
——“And that’s me!” said a driverless jeep.
——Swindle drove up and transformed. Predaking switched targets.
——The anxious arms dealer put his palms up.
——“Whoa! Whoa! Wait!” he yelled, backing away. “Let me explain! I’m a Decepticon just like you,” he said, pointing at his faction symbol. “That means we gotta stick together, see? I’ve got big plans for this planet,” he continued, gesturing at a tall mountain of Junk. “I’m gonna catalog this mess, sell it on the DataNet, then have mechs deliver it all over the universe! Same solar cycle delivery! No galaxy’s too far for us, eh? Good idea, huh? Now this is where you come in…”
——Predaking lowered his weapon, enthralled by the professional con mech’s words.
——“I need you to stop killing my workers, okay? I need ‘em to run my business. Do me that small favor AND—after you help me enslave everyone on the planet—I’ll make you a partner! You can be my protection. How does that sound, big guy? Do we have a deal?”
“HRMMM.” Predaking put his hand up to his chin and computed. Then he gave his answer. “PREDAKING ONLY DEALS… IN DEATH!”
——The Combiner raised his cannon at Swindle. The Combaticon was faster on the draw. The green crystal shards that flew out of Swindle’s much smaller cannon perforated Predaking’s face and then kept going into space.
——Defeated with one blast, the behemoth fell backward, then split into five beings when his back hit the ground. Badly outnumbered, four of the Predacons fled—three on foot, one by air—abandoning the fifth, Tantrum, like refuse along with Predaking’s tattered head.
——“I was afraid he’d say that,” grumbled Swindle. He pointed a rocket down at Wreck-Gar’s handlebarred head. Then he aimed his cannon at the Autobot commander, who incidentally, already had his rifle trained on him.
——“Tell your ‘Bots to back off, Magnus! I’m packing death crystals! These babies can shred through anything! If they can take out a Combiner, just think what they’ll do to you!”
——Ultra Magnus took his finger off the trigger and pointed the barrel toward the sky.
——“Yeah, good decision. It’s the same one I’d make if I were in your shoes. Now where’s your ship? I’m taking my business elsewhere… somewhere… ANYWHERE other than this loony place!”
——The Junkions began to jeer and throw things at Swindle for insulting their planet. With so many distractions popping up around him, Swindle decided to keep the pressure on Ultra Magnus.
——“Where is it, Magnus? You Autobots arrived here somehow.”
——Nancy stepped in between Swindle and his target. She pointed at him and proclaimed, “You’re goin’ down, pal!”
——Swindle tapped the top of Wreck-Gar’s head with his hand held rocket. “Tell your wife to beat it, lover boy! Now! I mean it!”
——So did Nancy. Literally. The Junkions buried beneath the scrap that Swindle stood upon rose up to wrestle him down into the wreckage. Swindle fought hard as he was pulled under. The garbage mound glowed green as the drowning Combaticon discharged his weapon repeatedly in it’s depths. But in the end, after all the screaming stopped, it was the Junkions who clambered out carrying his parts.

(to be continued)