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PART 51

2 HOURS AGO. SHOCKWAVE’S LAB

Nacelle was puzzled by the readings on the large monitor screen in front of him.
“Shockwave, I was wondering if you could clarify exactly what this data is pertaining to that Soundwave is transmitting from Earth? It looks like it might be the test results from some sort of Energon experiment.”
“Hmm, let me see.” Shockwave said, approaching the monitor. “It’s... classified.”
“Classified?” Nacelle replied incredulously. “But I am the highest ranking Decepticon here!”
“You’ve been demoted,” were the last words Nacelle heard before a powerful bolt of X-ray energy tore through his body.
“I hope that provided you with enough clarity.” Shockwave said coldly, brushing aside bits of Nacelle’s internals off of the control console with his still smoking gun arm.
He tapped a sensor lightly upon it’s surface and the data disappeared, replaced by the visage of three scowling Seekers. Each one, with the exception of their heads and wing stripes, were painted in a single color. Acid Storm was green, Nova Storm was yellow, and their leader, Ion Storm, was painted in a hue of dark blue that reminded Shockwave of storm clouds that were about to burst. This particular squad happened to be his favorite. Each member of the trio was intelligent, yet unquestioning. Highly effective on the battlefield, yet they sought no glory for their accomplishments. They were the perfect choice to ensure the success of phase two of Megatron’s plan.
“Rainmakers,” Shockwave called them as they were collectively known, “retrieve the Autobot named Bumper from his cell and then proceed with him to the the Kalis-Iacon border.”
“As you command!” the trio shouted in unison.

AUTOBASE

“Clamp Down! Haul that big ‘Con outta his cell,” shouted Stakeout. “He’s goin’ home!”
Skyfire slumped on the floor of his cell. He was dispassionate now, his anger toward the Autobots had long subsided. He had travelled to Iacon seeking their aid in saving the Earth’s resources from being plundered by others of his faction. The Autobots met him with violence, striking him down and imprisoning him, opting instead—as he had been told—to exchange him for a spy who got careless on a mission and wound up a captive of the very Decepticons that he had been spying on.
“What is the value of one life when weighed against billions?” thought Skyfire. “It depends on who you ask,” he concluded, well aware that the majority of his race considered organic life forms to be pests, no different than a Nano-Gnat or a Scraplet.
“You’re a deep thinker,” observed the Autobot appearing in front of his cell. “I can see it all over your faceplate. Hi, I’m Clamp Down. I’ll be one of the officers escorting you to Kalis this solar cycle. Please stand up and face the rear wall of your cell.”
Skyfire sighed and did as he was told. Clamp Down turned off the containment bars, walked in, and affixed a pair of Energon cuffs to Skyfire’s wrists.
Clamp Down’s comm slid down from the side of his helmet. “Ready, Stakeout.” he spoke into it. “I’m walking the prisoner out of the cell block now. Who’s our transport today?”
“Roadbuster. He’s the only ‘Bot with an alt-mode big enough to fit all three of us.” Stakeout radioed back.



Roadbuster began chuckling to himself when he saw Clamp Down come into the garage with his prisoner.
“From armored personnel carrier to paddy wagon to robot and back! And look at that... I’m not even a triple-changer!” he laughed.
“Never mind him, he has a weird sense of humor.” Stakeout said, peeking out from Roadbuster’s cab. “Put the prisoner in the back and let’s get goin’.”
Roadbuster started moving as soon as he felt his back door slam shut, rolling toward the entry ramp that led to the subsurface route to Kalis.
“Comfy back there?” he asked.
“You know we’re not,” replied Clamp Down.
There was so little room in the rear of Roadbuster’s alt-form that every time either of his passengers moved there was a squeal of metal on metal contact.
“Ah, your ordeal will be over soon enough,” dismissed Roadbuster. “It’s a short trip.”
“So what’s his story?” asked Stakeout. “Why’d this Decepticon decide to show up at our front gates alone?”
“Wires crossed, maybe?” Clamp Down guessed. “I don’t know.”
“What came out during the interrogation?” pressed Stakeout.
“There wasn’t one. Garboil destroyed his vocoder just as Warpath was taking him into custody.”
“And no one thought to give him a data pad!?” Stakeout asked incredulously.
“Red Alert sent one over with Warpath and our friend here threw it right back in his faceplate,” answered Clamp Down.
“So let me get this straight... Red Alert sends the same ‘Bot who shot the prisoner back down to the prisoner’s cell to give him a data pad?”
“Yep.”
“Oomph! Apparently Red stinks at playin’ good cop bad cop.”
“If the brass had working cerebral circuits they’d be dangerous,” Roadbuster interjected. “Look alive, we’re here!”
The Wrecker thundered out of the tunnel and came to a full stop in front of the bridge to Kalis. It had been an Autobot held territory for much of the war before falling to the Decepticons, but it’s close proximity to Iacon had made it difficult for them to defend, so now it stood virtually abandoned by both factions.
“Everybody out!” ordered Roadbuster. “Let’s give ‘em back their mech so we can get our ‘Bot back!”
Clamp Down led Skyfire out of the back of Roadbuster’s alt-form and looked across the span that led from Iacon to Kalis. The Rainmakers were already there standing with Bumper.
“Do you see those three mechs over there with the single color paint jobs?” asked Clamp Down.
Unable to speak, Skyfire simply nodded in acknowledgement.
“When we give the signal, start walking towards them.”
Clamp Down fired a round up into the sky first, then Nova Storm fired his own weapon in response, prompting their respective prisoners to start walking over the span. The two pass each other at the midway point. Bumper holds his head down as he sidesteps around Skyfire, but then raises it and smiles weakly at his comrades waiting for him on the other side.
The Autobots’ reunion was a warm one… standing in sharp contrast to the greeting the Decepticons gave Skyfire—which began with him struggling to get stand up again after a kick to the back of the knees, followed by the Rainmakers raining down blows upon his unprotected head. Clamp Down couldn’t bear to watch the beating for an astro-second longer, it sickened him to see a prisoner—even a Decepticon prisoner—mistreated in this manner. He quickly suggested that they all leave to go back to Iacon immediately under the guise of concern for Bumper’s safety—a request that Roadbuster grudgingly obliged.
“Don’t tell me you were shocked,” teased Roadbuster. “What didja expect ‘em to do? Kiss his aft and top off his tank with Energon? C’mon! That piece of scrap got what he deserved.”
“Maybe,” replied Clamp Down. “But I’m more concerned with Bumper here… looks like they tore out his vocoder right before they released him to us.”
“Animals!” Stakeout shouted from the cab section. “Hand him your data pad so he can write down any requests. Maybe there’s something that we can do to ease his pain before we get back to Iacon”
“Good idea,” Clamp Down replied, quickly handing Bumper the device.
The little Autobot smiled as he accepted it, but what he jotted down upon it’s surface shook Clamp Down to his core. The message read—

KILL ME

(to be continued)

PART 52

SHOCKWAVE’S LAB. 1 HOUR AGO

Shockwave noticed the change in the air before the doors to his laboratory opened. More so, he could feel it in the change in the impedance throughout his circuitry. Sunstorm had arrived.
“Shockwave! I seek your aid... my powers... they deliver death to friend and foe alike!”
“So I have been informed. I have prepared a CR chamber in anticipation of your arrival.” Shockwave said, pointing to a large object in an adjacent corner.
Unlike most CR chambers which were tubular and transparent, this one was dark and rectangular. Sunstorm walked up to it, but paused just short of stepping inside. He curled his lip in disgust as his optics fell upon Shockwave’s many experiments.
“Why do you hesitate?” Shockwave asked impatiently.
“Your laboratory, scientist—It is an affront to Primus! And this CR chamber… It bears resemblance to a casket!”
“That’s because it’s exterior is lined with lead. Do away with your distrust, Seeker, I can assure you that you will be fully functional when next you emerge from it. Now please... step inside. The radiation emanating from your body is already beginning to adversely affect the systems in mine.”
Sunstorm complied, and Shockwave moved swiftly to seal him in. Once inside, his irradiated form illuminated the interior and he recognized the chamber for what it was—a modified stasis pod.
“You seek to deceive me.” Sunstorm said in a low voice.
“Correction, I have already deceived you.”
“Oh? I believe all of this to be Primus’ will, scientist. It was he who set these events in motion knowing that it would culminate in me returning home to witness the horrors held within this corner of Kolkular.”
“Horrors? I believe you have mistaken me for Straxus, Sunstorm. Every experiment I conduct inside this laboratory is done solely in the interest of science.”
“ I disagree. Autobot wrecks hanging from the rafters... Scraplets kept in jars, mechs fused together into monstrosities... this is the work of a tainted spark! Must I continue on?”
“If you wish. Your words will not change the outcome of what is about to transpire here.”
“My actions will, Shockwave. In mere moments your infernal contraption will go the way of all things mechanical, and I shall burst forth and— ...”
“And... you will forget what you were going to say. The deletion of every bit of data in your memory banks is now complete, Sunstorm. You will begin experiencing the first stages of stasis lock momentarily.”
Shockwave’s attention was drawn to a flashing light on the lab’s computer console. The Rainmakers appeared on the monitor as he approached.
“Ah, Ion Storm. I see that the emptiness of Kalis has been replaced by the fiery glow of Polyhex. I assume that the prisoner exchange went as programmed?”
“You are correct in that assumption, Commander.” replied Ion Storm. “We have transported Skyfire to the Smelting Pool as per your orders. The traitor is currently awaiting recycling as we speak.”
“The performance of your squad has once again met expectations, Ion Storm. Return to Kalis with your subordinates and await further instruction.”


IACON

Four gray corpses lay on slabs in the repair bay at Autobase. Hoist tapped the tip of his gun-arm to his chin, puzzled at the cause of their deaths. Behind him, Chief Medical Officer Ratchet looked on via interstellar viewscreen.
“Takedown, Crumble, Groundpounder and Nuetro... they’re all dead. What happened Hoist?”
“Fuel poisoning, It appears.”
“Well, where in blue blazes did they refuel at?”
“They received their rations here at Autobase, the same as everyone else. In fact, according to our records—Tracks and Smokescreen refueled right along with them. I called the two of them in for maintenance, did some fuel work... and nothing.”
“They were okay?”
“All operating at peak efficiency.”
“Where did the Constructicon Patrol go immediately after topping off?”
“Down to the power cells... why?”
“Hmm. My guess would be that some kind of contaminant found their way into their fuel lines shortly after they refueled. I suggest you go grab Perceptor and retrace their steps.”
“Good advice, Ratchet. Hold on...! I’ve got an incoming transmission from Stakeout.”
“Take it.” Ratchet said. “I’ll talk to you later—keep me posted!”
“Certainly.”
Ratchet’s image disappeared from the screen, replaced an instant later by Stakeout’s mouth as he shouted into Roadbuster’s dashboard cam.
“Hoist! I’ve got an emergency situation here, Bumper’s gone crazy! He shot Clamp Down with his own rifle, and now he’s trying to shoot his way out of Roadbuster!”
Hoist transformed into his alt-mode, a streamlined flat-bed Cybertronian tow truck—perfect for the speedy transportion of critically damaged Autobots. “What is Roadbuster’s condition?” he inquired as he roared out into the streets of Iacon. “He’s still online, I hope.”
“He’s swervin’ all over the road!” Stakeout radioed back. “But I don’t think any of his vitals are placed in the rear of his alt. He’s more hacked off than anything.”
The sentry at the main entrance, Tigertrack, parted the gates allowing Roadbuster to barrel through. So much smoke billowed from his wounds that the back of his alt-mode was barely visible. Hoist transformed alongside the stricken Wrecker as he skidded to a stop. Stakeout grabbed his rifle and leaped out.
“Little maniac must’ve ran outta ammo,” he grumbled. “Follow me.”
The two Autobots walked around to Roadbuster’s rear, Stakeout motioned to Hoist to stand back. Roadbuster raised his back door and Bumper came charging out right into the path of Stakeout’s rifle butt. The crazed Autobot landed on his back with a thud near Roadbuster’s rear wheel, already offline from the blow.
“Move back!” warned Roadbuster. “I’m gonna throw myself into reverse and flatten that little spawn of a glitch into sheet metal!”
“Easy there, big fella.” Hoist said as he climbed inside the big Wrecker to check on Clamp Down.
“How’s he doin’? inquired Stakeout.
“He’s been um, terminated.”
Stakeout fought the urge to stomp Bumper into pieces as he lay on the ground. “Unbelievable!” he raged. “We risk our lives goin’ to Kalis to rescue this mech, and then he turns around and shoots one of us the first chance he—“
Stakeout stops in mid-sentence, his optics drawn optics to the bottom of Bumper’s feet. Both of his tread plates had been removed and something had been stuffed into the spaces underneath.
“Det-packs,” he gasped.
“Roadbuster, roll out!” Hoist shouted. “Tell Tigertrack to sound the alarms! Stakeout, you defuse one foot, I’ll do the other!”
Bumper coughed just as his comrades began to disarm his feet, dislodging a rough looking Scraplet from his throat.
Hoist drew back in horror. “He’s got Scraplets!”
“Hoist, look!” Stakeout screamed. “Look at his faceplate! It’s moving!”
Bumper’s visor sunk into one side of his face, then his entire faceplate collapsed inside his head as if it had been hollowed out. Dozens of Scraplets poured out of the gaping hole where his face used to be—some in robot-mode, others in the forms of nuts, bolts, washers and screws. They spread out over the dead Autobot’s remains. Several stopped to further engorge themselves on his already graying corpse, but the vast majority made a beeline for the two fresh metal meals in front of them.
“Mmmm, we see robots!”

(to be continued)

PART 53

SHOCKWAVE’S LAB. NOW.

“Greetings Shockwave,” a voice screeched from behind.
Shockwave turned to see Ratbat hanging upside down just inside the door of his laboratory.
“Ratbat. It is a rare occasion to see you outside of the comfort of your offices.”
“I’m taking a more... hands on approach to performing my function as fuel auditor.”
“Intriguing. To what do I owe the honor of this particular Energon expenditure?”
“I’ve come to tell you that your request for additional troops has been fulfilled. The Energon shipment that Starscream sent over from Earth was enough to reactivate a total of two hundred and ninety-seven Decepticon warriors.”
“Thank you, Ratbat. Still... a simple transmission would have sufficed.”
“I’ll get to the point then. I could have brought an even three hundred out of stasis had I been able to use the cubes that disappeared after one of your subordinates paid a visit to my fuel depot. You wouldn’t happen to know where those Energon cubes wound up, now would you Shockwave?”
“I would.”
“Good. So our little conversation is beginning to bear fruit.”
“The Energon cubes you speak of were loaded onto Astrotrain and transported back to Earth—to Oregon’s Cascade mountain region, to be precise.”
“Which, according to my records, Shockwave, is currently NOT the location of the Decepticon forces stationed there. In fact, the Energon shipment Astrotrain delivered was received by a human named—“
“Ratbat! Is there a reason why you’re attempting to interrogate me? Or do you intend to help alleviate the strain on this planet’s fuel resources by provoking me into terminating you?”
“No! I ah, er, figured I would speak to you about this first before bringing it to Megatron’s attention.”
“Megatron is aware of the transaction between Astrotrain and the human, Ratbat, it was he who ordered it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to, and I believe you have a meeting scheduled with Straxus at the Smelting Pool.”
“I do? Regarding what?”
“Fuel conservation, Ratbat. What other reason would I be sending you there for?”

KALIS

Ion Storm stood with his squad mates atop an abandoned armory. The blue Rainmaker was completely entranced at the spectacle he was witnessing in Iacon through a pair of optical enhancers.
“Incredible! I’m watching two Autobots attempt to disarm two separate explosive devices simultaneously while being eaten alive by Scraplets!”
“A piece of tin foil would have a better chance of surviving a smelter than those two heroes will have disarming those det-packs,” smirked Acid Storm.
Ion Storm shook his head. “I don’t know my friend, they look pretty determined.”
Acid Storm disagreed. “The bombs in his feet are most likely decoys... it’s an old Squadron X trick. The real explosives are probably located in some other part of his anatomy that’s hollow when he’s not in alt-mode.”
“Like his forearms,” suggested Nova Storm.
“Hm. You mechs might be right.” Ion Storm conceded. “Either that, or the Scraplets just chewed through the wires that make their fingers wiggle.”
“They’ve disengaged?” Acid Storm inquired.
“Yes! I’m watching them make a break for it in alt-mode... the bomb must be close to detonation.
Ion Strorm’s mouth dropped open and the cameras in his optics widened. “What the—? Iacon’s gone black! I can’t see a damned thing!”
“That bomb didn’t make a sound,” observed Nova Storm. “However, my sensors indicate that the explosion generated an electromagnetic pulse wave as wide as the city itself. That’s what put out the lights.”
“Hkk. I’m experiencing the same sensation that I always get whenever Sunstorm’s around,” complained Acid Storm.
“Shhh! It’s Shockwave!” shushed Ion Storm, as he took the call. “Yes, Commander! Understood. Yes... we will. At once, Commander!”
The other two Rainmakers stared at Ion Storm as he broke off the connection.
“Well..? Don’t keep us in suspense, what did he say?” inquired Nova Storm.
“He said Iacon’s defenses are down. Bring the rain.”

(to be continued)

PART 54

IACON

The sirens Inferno heard wailing before the city went dark were now replaced by a buzz in his communicator. All around him ‘Bots clanked to their knees, Energon spewing out of open mouths onto metallic streets. The whole scene would have reminded him of his last night at Maccadam’s if not for the ominous crimson clouds gathering overhead.
Then, with a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, the screaming began. Inferno ducked inside the bay of Hoist’s old body shop to avoid the fiery droplets of red liquid pouring from the skies. A moment later, Tracks stumbled in as well. Inferno dashed forward to catch him before he hit the floor.
“Tracks!” he exclaimed. “You all right?”
Energon began flowing out of the stricken Autobot’s mouth as he tried to answer, indicating to Inferno that he was experiencing a mechanical emergency.
“Aw, Scrap! You’re all messed up, I gotta find you a medic!”
Inferno turned toward the torrent outside just as Hoist came roaring in from it, Scraplets flaking off his body as he changed form.
“Scraplets!” he exclaimed. “I’ll clear the nasty critters off ya with a little mixture of hydrogen an’ oxygen!”
“Don’t worry about me! The Scraplets are already dying from the rain! Go get Stakeout!” Hoist insisted. “He’s still out there in that mess!”
The raindrops may as well have been hot lava judging by the way they sizzled on the city streets, but Inferno transformed and drove into it without hesitation. The courageous ‘Bot returned astro-minutes later bumper-pushing Stakeout’s stalled alternate form from behind. Once both of them were safely inside, Inferno involuntarily reverted to robot-mode and rolled over onto his back, glitching badly.
When Stakeout tried to transform, he fell to pieces as his parts shifted. His head rolled off and struck Hoist’s foot as the shocked medic was rushing over to attend to him. Greedy Scraplets scrambled out of his scattered parts, prompting Hoist to start stomping on the pests while Inferno sprayed them.
“Dang it! Darn Scraplets done chewed the poor fella up ‘fore I could get to ‘im!” hollered Inferno.
“You tried your best, Inferno.” Hoist said.
Inferno shook his head as he nudged the dead ‘Bot’s remains with his gun-arm. “Primus knows I did, Hoist, but still... lord have mercy, that was a real bad way ta go. How’s Tracks doin’ over there?”
“Stable. I found traces of Mimic dust in system.”
“Huh! Never took ‘im for a substance abuser.”
“No, no, the Energon he used to refuel with at Autobase was laced with it.”
“Hm. It was probably in the cubes Elita One and her gals have been pilferin’ from the Decepticons.”
“Yes, and in the cubes brought in by the Throttlebots and Swindler and whoever else has been finding it so easy to sneak into a Decepticon installation as of late.”
“We were set up. Pure an’ simple.”
“Played like puppet-droids. The bomb Stakeout and I failed to defuse hit us with a wave of electromagnetic energy. Apparently electromagnetism causes the molecules in Mimic dust to destabilize.”
“But wait an astro-sec, Hoist. Mimic dust... we can’t absorb that junk, can we?”
“Yes we can if the ratio of Mimic dust to actual Energon is low. In small amounts it burns just like the Energon it’s well... mimicking. It also remains undetectable until exposed to E.M. radiation.”
“And I’m guessin’ that’s when the stuff gives us a clank in our tank, right?”
“That’s the long and short of it, yeah.” Hoist answered as he gave Tracks another scan with his head mounted full spectrum multi-sensor. “I managed to save Tracks by siphoning out the contaminated Energon and giving him a transfusion of my own.”
Inferno walked over to the exit and stared out into the rain. “We gotta get out there, Hoist!” he said, with determination surging through his circuits. “As soon as this darned acid rain lets up we gotta head on out there and warn everybody we can!”
“If it lets up.”
“It will. The Decepticons’ circuits snap, crackle, and pop when an acid raindrop touches ‘em just the same as ours, and trust me—ain’t none of those cowards got the struts to come waltzin’ in here while the skies are still cloudy! When the rain lets up, we roll for it.”



Outside, a trio of Tetrajets transform and alight upon Iacon’s Great Dome. The three Decepticon warriors stand unmoved, surveying the devastation they have wrought. For as far as the optic can see, the dead and dying litter the city streets. Some died seeking shelter, scratching at doorways rendered inoperable by the acid rain. Many more met their fate in alt-form, either piled up as wrecks on elevated roadways or lying in pieces after glitched guidance systems caused them to veer off course and plummet to the surface below.
Ion Storm flipped up his communicator.
“The rain clouds are beginning to disperse, commander Shockwave.” he radioed. “Although you and your troops may encounter some “sizzle drizzle” and a few short-circuited stragglers as you make your way up the Iacon Speedway.”
“Affirmative, we are moving toward your position now. Maintain control of the skies. Shockwave out.”

(to be continued)

PART 55

“Thank the maker that dreadful downpour has subsided!” Tracks said, as he emerged cautiously out of Hoist’s old body shop. “Unfortunately, there’s still plenty of acid puddles around to further foul my finish.”
He looked back to see if his comrades were paying him any attention. Inferno was standing there with his chest compartment open while Hoist poked his head around inside the ‘Bot’s internals.
“Oh c’mon, Hoist! You heard Tracks—the rains stopped! Close me up so we can get a move on!”
“Hold it! I just spotted a pool of corrosive liquid near your energy absorber. I wouldn’t want you conking out while you’re trying to render aid to someone else.”
Tracks turned his attention back towards the carnage that lay outside. He knew every fallen ‘Bot by name. He had fought beside each one of them at one time or another, but there were few among them that he would call friend. The investors and art collectors that he used to sip premium Energon with had ceased to function long ago. Casualties of war... or rather targets. Megatron made it a point to go after them first in order to seize their wealth before his forces rolled in en masse to seize the city itself.
Out of all the rich mechs Tracks ever knew, only Mirage and Grapple remained. Mirage had went on to become one of the Autobots’ greatest fighters, while Grapple put his architectural skills to use designing bunkers instead of buildings. Many of the structures in Iacon were the product of the famed architect’s grand designs. He was looking at one now—the Great Dome. Built during the war, it housed many of central Iacon’s most important buildings, such as the Decagon, now more commonly referred to as Autobase. His optics were drawn further upward, towards the top of the dome. More specifically, to the three Seekers stationed on top of it.
“I think I just spotted the three morons responsible for this mess.”
“Only three of ‘em?” Inferno inquired. “What’re they up to?”
“They’re shooting at something... or someone—It’s Smokescreen! I can tell by that garish paint job!”
Hoist slammed Inferno’s chest shut and then both of them rushed over to see what Tracks was talking about.
“He needs our assistance,” Hoist said. “Smokescreen refueled at the same time you did. Quite frankly, I’m surprised he’s still functional.”
“Smokescreen’s a crafty spawn of a glitch,” Inferno smiled. “He probably found somewhere to hold up while he was ailin', and then decided to make a run for it as soon as he was able."
“Yeah, and unfortunately he ran right into those three villains,” added Tracks.
“Well, we ain’t helpin’ him none standin’ around here yappin’!” Inferno said, turning serious. “Let’s go save ‘im!”
“Typical,” Tracks mused, as he watched his fellow Autobots transform and roll out. “Rush in and hope that the enemy doesn’t blow you to scrap. Fortunately for those two, they’ve got yours truly watching their rear ends.”
With a smug smile on his faceplate, Tracks transformed to his alt-mode—a jet hover car hybrid that the Quintessons once marketed to consumers whose alien automobiles used skyways instead of roadways. A classic form, coveted by both car thieves and slavers alike across the galaxy.
The Rainmakers were fully engrossed in the act of laying down suppressive fire between Smokescreen and a shanty Hoist and Inferno were using as cover. Tracks made his approach from behind, using the hover jets under his alt-form to steadily—and silently—ascend until his enemies were in his crosshairs.
“Can’t get a good shot!” yelled Acid Storm.
“Transform!” ordered Ion Storm. “Nova Storm and I will maintain fire while you strafe their little shack to pieces.”
Tracks fired before Acid Storm could change shape. The bolt enveloped the three Decepticons in a shroud of black light too dark for the average Cybertronian’s optic sensors to process. Tracks readied two rockets with the intent of causing critical damage to his targets this time around instead of merely disorienting them.
Nova Storm’s optics changed color in the darkness. “Gotcha!”
The muzzles on the Rainmaker’s arm-mounted rifles began flashing and a barrage of lasers penetrated Tracks’ alt-form. Despite the pain racking his systems, the wounded Autobot still managed to launch his incendiary rockets. One exploded in mid-air after coming in contact with a hail of oncoming laser fire, the other detonated at Nova Storm’s feet.
“Your inadequate armaments cannot harm me!” The Seeker boasted. “I was manufactured to withstand temperatures that would turn a weakling like you into a slag slick!”
As the black light dissipated, it became immediately clear to Nova Storm that this attack was nothing more than a distraction. He pointed his weapons every which way, frantically trying to regain sight of Tracks. An astro-second later, the Seeker spotted his target as the Autobot nosedived into a thick cloud of exhaust fumes that had seemingly rolled in from nowhere. The cloud was impossible for his newly adjusted optics to penetrate, so he simply gave up.



“They were working in concert,” announced Nova Storm. “Even the injured one on the ground.”
Fully recovered, his two comrades joined him in staring downward at the surface. The black smoke was now starting to swallow everything.
“Well played Autobots,” smirked Nova Storm.
“Yeah? You think so?” Ion Storm railed. “You mind telling me what in Unicron’s name happened?”
“We were taken unawares!” Nova Storm shot back, jabbing a finger in his squad leader’s chest. “And when I say WE, that means all of us! Including you!”
Ion Storm’s optics flared and electricity flowed across his knuckles. Acid Storm inserted himself in between the two before the situation escalated any further.
“Hey! Hey! We’re better than that!” he chastened. “What’s wrong with you mechs?”
Acid Storm looked Ion Storm in the optics. “So a few damaged Autobots got away by using their friend’s faulty exhaust to their advantage… so what? The question is do we report this or not?”
Ion Storm opened his communicator as if to consider it, then he lowered it down.
“We know where they went.” he said, tapping a golden tile with his foot. “Right here... right beneath our feet—to the only safe place left in Iacon. When Shockwave and his troops arrive...”
“They’re as good as deactivated anyway,” concluded Nova Storm.

(to be continued)

PART 56

“Somebody’s comin’.” whispered Inferno.
“Friend or foe?” Hoist whispered back.
“Don’t know... can’t see a danged thing on account of all the smog. All I can tells ya is that this shack is gonna get a mite overcrowded in the next astro-second or two.”
The door to the shanty slowly creaked open, prompting both Autobots to point their gun-arms at the shadowy figure in the doorway.
“Hoist! Inferno! Don’t shoot!” Smokescreen exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.
“I just had a case of fuel poisoning like you wouldn’t believe...!”
The mech had a smile on his face as he hobbled in, Tracks followed closely behind him.
“And how on Cybertron did you manage to survive it?” inquired Hoist. He stepped closer so his spectrum scanner could examine Smokescreen from top to bottom. “Oh, I see.”
Smokescreen tapped a hole in his mid-section. “Shot myself in the tank and drained out what wasn’t already running through my fuel lines. Needless to say, I’m dangerously low on Energon.”
Hoist transformed. “Hop on.” he said. “I’ll give you a lift back to base.”
“Hold on.” Smokescreen made his way over to a protruding square on the wall. He pushed it in, generating the unmistakable “clack, clack, clack” sound of gears manipulating a series of much larger gears. The floor of the shanty lurched, then the entire level began to descend with the ease of a luxury elevator.
“This is where I was headed when those ‘Cons got the drop on me.” Smokescreen informed them.
“Well, I’ll be...!” laughed Inferno. “A secret entrance!”
“Yup. Straight to one of the sub-surface routes that lead directly into the Dome. Grapple built a few of these in and around the city at Prowl’s behest.”
“And when were you ‘Bots going to share this information with the rest of us?” sniffed Tracks.
“It was on a strictly need to know basis.” smirked Smokescreen. “And well... now you know.”



Blaster sat in his chair with a mass of cables snaking out of his chest, each serpentine line leading directly through the roof to the now silent antenna array atop Iacon’s central communications tower. He placed his finger on one of the buttons beneath his chest compartment, hesitating for a brief moment to rethink what he was about to do.
“Aw, what the heck.” Blaster clicked the lever into the down position and a wave of frequencies washed through him, threatening to push his system to the point of overload. A few astro-seconds later his power chip rectifier kicked in and adjusted his sensory input, turning him into a living replacement for the city’s communications hub.
“This is Blaster comin’ at cha, we are live as we strive to stay alive! Talk to me, Iacon!”
“Blaster! This is Hoist with an urgent message for all Autobots—“
“Go ahead, Hoist good buddy! Everyone out there that still has an electro-pulse can hear you.”
“Autobots! If you are currently experiencing malfunctions not attributable to the acid rain, you must flush your systems immediately! There is a contaminant flowing through your fuel lines that will result in the termination of your life functions if you do not flush it out! Refill only with Energon from verifiable sources. Do not ingest any fuel that you suspect was procured from a Decepticon storehouse.”
“You heard ‘im folks! Dump it, then pump it! Next caller!”
“This is Impactor. Shockwave’s leadin’ a slaggin’ army straight up the speedway! Us Wreckers are movin’ in to cut them off before they reach the Orion overpass.”
“Copy Impactor. I’ll try ta get’cha some air support and rustle up a squad or two. Powerglide... come in!”
“Powerglide here, what’s up, Blaster?”
“The Wreckers could use a little flair in the air over the Orion overpass.”
“Sorry ta disappoint, but I’m up to my tail rudders in solid-colored Seekers right now! How’d these three Decepti-clowns make it all the way inta Central Iacon anyway?”
“Long story P.G.! That was Powerglide folks... engaged and enraged! Anybody else out there able to lend a hand to my ‘Bot Impactor?”
“Elita One reporting. What is Impactor’s position?”
“YOW! Warpath ready to go BLAOW! What’s Impactor’s BLAM! position?”
“The Wreckers are currently traveling up the Trion turnpike less than one mega-mile away!”
“No, Blaster...! Tell them to turn back!”
Blaster glanced over his shoulder at the figure that had just burst into the room.
“Perceptor! What the—?”
“We are evacuating Iacon!”
“No way, Perceptor! Prime would never give up this city without a fight!”
“Blaster, listen to me. There were approximately four hundred Autobots in outer Iacon before the Decepticons initiated their first strike. Even if only a handful survived we still would not have enough untainted Energon to refuel them with—let alone hold this city in the improbable event that we manage to repel Shockwave’s army.”
Blaster shook his head. Not only was Iacon the last Autobot controlled city on Cybertron, it had also been his adopted home for more vorns than he could count... and now Perceptor was asking him to give it up without a fight.
“Think about the others,” Perceptor pleaded. “Make the announcement… please Blaster!”
Blaster’s finger fell upon the broadcast button on his torso, his vocoder crackled more than usual as he began to speak.
“All Autobots return to base. I repeat... all Autobots return to base.”
A flood of acknowledgements filled Blaster’s audio receptors. He registered each modulation mentally and matched it to a list of voices compiled in his memory banks.
One was missing.
“Impactor...? I just heard from you Impactor so I know that you’re not dead out there. Return to base. Do you copy?”
“Yeah, I copy... but I ain’t running. I’m tired of running.”

(to be continued)

PART 57

Shockwave

I hover in alternate mode at the head of an army of three hundred ground troops ready to take Iacon. Below me stand sub-commanders Trannis, Bombshock and Direct-Hit, along with communications officer Soundwave.

A light on Soundwave’s torso flashes...

“Attention Shockwave... Autobot transmission intercepted.”
“Play it for me, Soundwave.”
“As you command...”
“—ain’t running. I’m tired of running.”
“I hear you Impactor, so am I. I’m puttin’ the Dome on lockdown in five thousand astro-seconds, after that no one gets in or out. Those Decepti-creeps will never take Iacon!—

We march. The Autobot forces withdraw. Although “flee in terror” would be a more accurate description. All but one... he remains in vehicular form as we draw near...

“Soundwave, identify!”
“Subject identified as Autobot law enforcement officer, Clamp Down.”
“Improbable. According to audio and visual data streamed directly from Bumper’s cerebral circuits, Clamp Down was terminated while en route to Iacon. Furthermore, he was not in his alternate form when he ceased to function. Your records are in error, Soundwave.”
“Information accurate. Subject correctly identified as Clamp Down. Status: deceased.”

Soundwave ejects Ravage to investigate. The Autobot cadaver explodes. A section of the speedway collapses creating a chasm between Soundwave, my sub-commanders, and the bulk of the Decepticon forces on the other side.
The Wrecker, Whirl, ascends from the abyss and opens fire. Hundreds on the other side rise to the defense of their commanders... they illuminate the night sky with energy discharges in an all out effort to destroy the attacker. Whirl is forced to withdraw with two of my Rainmakers rocketing after him.

Too late I realize that the lone Autobot’s assault was but a distraction. A harpoon pierces the barrel of my alternate form, anchoring me in place. Soundwave states the obvious—

“We are under attack by the Wreckers.”

Impactor rises out of a pile of wreckage on the Orion Overpass, shrugging the entrails of fallen Autobots off of him like alien foliage. His subordinates Topspin and Roadbuster follow suit. Hidden amongst the dead and damaged, Soundwave failed to detect their presence. With a tug, I am brought down to the Speedway. The impact from the fall triggers an involuntary transformation back to my primary configuration. The barrel of my alt-mode splits to form my forearms with Impactor’s harpoon still deeply imbedded within one of them. For the moment I am at a tactical disadvantage, but that situation shall be rectified momentarily.

“Decepticons! Rally to me!”

My sub-commanders form a protective circle around me while the few warriors we have engage the Wreckers on the overpass. Garboil succeeds in severing Impactor’s tow cable with his serrated beak. The shriek the creature produces when the Wreckers retailiate and blow him to pieces renders my audio receptors useless. A tremor beneath my feet heralds the arrival of Topspin’s twin brother, Twin Twist, along with former test subjects Rack ‘n Ruin. They make their explosive entrance by tunneling directly upward through one of the speedway’s support pillars from what I surmise is a passageway beneath the city. The three Wreckers on the overpass jump down to join their comrades—their next move as a collective is highly predictable...

The Wreckers advance, closing the distance between us in order to minimize the threat posed to them by range weapons. They have deduced that as long as they remain in close proximity to us, the rank and file would not dare open fire on them for fear of striking a superior officer. These Autobots have simply underestimated the ambition of some of the Decepticons gathered here. Topspin and Bombshock fall in a hail of projectiles and energy discharges... executed on the orders of Bombshock’s treacherous lieutenant, Dropshot.

Roadbuster slams his fist through Soundwave’s chest and attempts to wrench out some vital component from within his body. His hand inadvertently falls upon the minion Wingthing, instead. Startled by the creature’s sudden transformation and subsequent frenetic flapping, Roadbuster stumbles away from the melee and is struck down in similar fashion to Bombshock and Topspin. With two of their number down, the remaining Wreckers break away from their respective opponents and set their sights solely on me.

To my left, Trannis wraps his lightning whip around Twin Twist’s neck, halting his mad dash in my direction. To my right, Direct-Hit moves to obstruct Rack ‘n Ruin’s path and pays for it with his function cycle. The Wrecker brings both hammer and anvil down on Direct-Hit’s head simultaneously, shattering it as if it were made from crystal.

The loss of this particular officer is an acceptable one. The general consensus throughout the Decepticon ranks was that Direct-Hit had been promoted far beyond his actual capabilities. His timely demise provides me with the astro-second I need to level my gun-arm, fire, and reduce Rack ‘n Ruin’s conjoined form to a smoking pile of microchips.

Impactor charges toward me. Metal reverberates against metal as we clash and attempt to inflict damage upon each other in the most expeditious ways possible. The Autobot extracts his lost harpoon from my forearm and plunges it into my chest, narrowly missing my Spark. I press my gun-arm against his torso and release. Gamma energy penetrates his body. Smoke billows from his back. He gasps, keeping my gun-arm pointed away from him. The structure upon which we stand groans, and then finally gives way, sending us plummeting to the surface below.

In my alternate form I can fly, Impactor cannot. I transform and leave my adversary to continue his descent down to the wreckage strewn wasteland over which the Iacon Speedway is elevated.

The Wreckers have fallen—and in Impactor’s case… quite literally.

The Decepticons left clinging to the collapsed Speedway are retrieved; Soundwave among them. The Wreckers who still function are brought forth in Energon restraints and forced to kneel before me. Upon my orders, Twin Twist’s head is torn from his body and used to bludgeon Roadbuster until his cerebral circuits spill from his cranium. Still... the Autobot stubbornly clings to life. What directive drives these beings? What are they fighting for? The right to stagnate on a dead world until Energon depletion forces us all into stasis lock? The Autobots’ stance defies logic. They stand as obstacles to our goals, and as such, must be eliminated before moving forward with our plans for expansion.

I nod, Soundwave steps forward and dispatches Roadbuster with a concussion blast to his ruined brain module. His sparkless body falls at my feet... now I am free to turn my attention toward more important matters.

I use the formidable firepower of my alternate form to fire upon the Great Dome again and again. It is a truly remarkable structure... as resilient as it is beautiful. Scorch marks upon it’s exterior are all I have to show for this substantial expenditure of energy.
No matter.
If we cannot get in, then we will ensure that the Autobots cannot get out. Trapped inside, their Energon stores will dwindle. They will weaken while we remain strong... freshly fueled with resources stolen from the Earth and transported to us via the Space Bridge.

Time is on our side.

(to be continued)

PART 58

Prowl. The Ark.

Prime and Hauler are standing in front of Teletraan-1 when I enter the room. I walk over and slam my fist down onto the console out of frustration.

“This crisis in Iacon has turned into a full blown siege! We’ve got to shut that Space Bridge down, Prime! This rock right here... this planet... this is where they’re getting most—if not all—the Energon they need to power this offensive!”
Hauler is a little taken aback by my show of emotion. He’s obviously never sat in on a High Command strategy session before.
“We don’t have enough fuel to power a full scale assault.” Prime says. “Our Energon reserves are at a critical low.”
“What about the arrangement Jazz made with the humans?” I point out. “I thought they were supposed to supply us with fuel?”
Prime shakes his head. “Our shipments have been delayed... caught up in something Agent Barnett calls a bureaucratic nightmare.”
“This is where I come in.” announces Hauler. “Back on Cybertron my primary function was resource exploration. I’ve been browsing this planet’s DataNet, and I’ve discovered that we’re sitting on an energy source that could very well provide us with thousands of astro-liters of Energon!”
Prime puts his hand up to his mouthplate. It’s a tell. To others it may look as if he’s taking what they’ve said into consideration, but in truth he’s already given whatever project or plan they’ve come up with the green light.
“Hmm. What tools do you need to access this possible new energy source?” he asks.
Hauler pops a drill out of his forearm housing. “Just my handy drill apparatus and a few days worth of Energon.”
“You have my authorization, Hauler. Report to Ratchet for the Energon cubes you require.”

As Hauler departs an alert flashes across Teletraan’s screen- Starscream, Skywarp and Thundercracker have hit a power station fifty miles east of here. It’s an Energon cube fill and fly, they don’t stick around to hold the facility... by the time Prime dispatches Ironhide, Trailbreaker, Brawn and Windcharger to deal with it the ‘Cons are already gone.
“Prime, we can’t wait for Hauler.”
“What do you propose?”
I punch up a live feed from Sky Spy... the ship Mirage stole is sitting on an island in the North Atlantic.
“The Decepticons brought it down over a rock the humans affectionately call “the Island of No Return.”
Ramjet and Thrust crisscross each other on aerial patrols of the island. Their engineer, Hotlink, can be seen tinkering with an access panel near the entrance to the ship while Dirge looms over him.
“The ‘Cons haven’t gotten inside yet. We can use one of the shuttles to fly out there and siphon the Energon right out of the tanks.”
“No... the fuel aboard that ship is tainted. It’s Energon stolen from the Decepticons.”
“How long do you think it would take Wheeljack to come up with something to purify it?”
“I don’t know, let’s ask.”
Prime presses a button on Teletraan’s console and Ratchet’s cheerful face appears. “Ratchet, is Wheeljack back online?”
“Just finished repairing him, Optimus. Hold on...”
The camera pans to Wheeljack, glad to see his ah, audio receptors—or whatever those things are on the sides of his head—flashing again when he speaks.
“What’s up, Prime?”
“Wheeljack, how long would it take you to build something that could remove contaminants from Energon?”
“Dunno, It would help if I could get a sample of the stuff first. I meant to get one off the Omnibot’s ship but... aw, you know what happened.”
“Give me Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Camshaft and Gears,” I tell Optimus. “We’ll get Wheeljack his sample.”
Prime puts his hand up to his mouthplate again.
“Agreed... but one, I’m going with you. And two—the Decepticons on that island are some of Megatron’s deadliest warriors. Wheeljack, I want you to outfit that shuttle with extra armaments... specifically air to air missiles.”
“I’ll get right on it, Prime. Gimme an hour and I’ll attach enough weapons onto that shuttle to take down a star cruiser.”

When Wheeljack says “about an hour” he really means two. I transform and hit the open road, I’ve got a case I want to work on in the meantime. I set my GPS for Portland and I’m gone.

Back when the Onmibot’s ship first landed, there was some discrepancy about who gave the actual order to land. That ship was safe in Earth orbit, Huffer got killed and Overdrive got captured because somebody forced our hand. I’m going to find out who. If our enemies succeed in destroying us, I’m going to make sure it isn’t from the inside.

I show up at his house with lights flashing, a few minutes later he comes out to investigate.

“Hello, Sam.”
“Uh, hi... um, you’re an Autobot right?”
“What gave me away?”
“No driver.”

I have a holomatter avatar, but I decided not to use it. I wanted the kid to know who I was, what I was. Fleshy faces start to appear in the windows of adjacent houses.

“Get in. You’re neighbors are starting to get nosy.”

Sam slides into my passenger seat, I shut the door and off we go.

“So, why are you here, um...?”
“Prowl.”
“You guys kinda broke off contact with me after I got fired from Triple I.”
“It’s been hectic. Your friend Jazz... he got hurt. No one else had a method to contact you.”
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“Still offline. Ratchet is working on him. He’ll be fine.”
“That’s good.”
“As a matter of fact, Jazz is who I wanted to speak to you about.”
“What’s up?”
“When you and Jazz were at the institute, were you two separated at any time?”
“No, not really. The meeting was held in the garage... Jazz explained what you guys were, where you were from, and why you were here. After that, he cut the deal for your fuel and then got Triple I to hook me up with a job as a consultant. I left for about fifteen minutes to fill out some paperwork, and then that was that... why?”
“What was your opinion of the other humans working there?”
“The other people? They were pretty cool, I guess. Their top scientist, Doctor Arkeville, seemed very interested in how you guys tick.”
“Oh...? How so?”
“He was asking Jazz questions about what your fuel was comprised of, how he repaired himself, was it possible for one robot to control another... stuff like that.”
“Interesting.”
“I’ve got a few questions of my own, Prowl.”
“Ask away, I’ll try my best to answer.”
“How did the war start between the Autobots and the Decepticons?”
“Hm. Did Jazz tell you about the Quintessons?”
“Yeah, a little bit.”
“The Quints built Transformers to be sold as slaves to other races across the galaxy. The Autobots served as bodyguards and a means of transportation for their masters. The Decepticons were marketed to warlords as soldiers and spies who could transform into either military vehicles or an assortment of inconspicuous objects.”
“Wow... that’s crazy!”
“Eventually our predecessors overthrew the Quintessons and took over the planet we were manufactured on. For a time we lived in peace with the Decepticons... our population grew too large for the finite resources of the planet to handle, so we worked together to establish colonies... uninhabited worlds whose fuel resources were collected and sent back to Cybertron over a network of Space Bridges.”
“Actual bridges between planets...?”
“No, they were more like stations where you could teleport from one world to another.”
“That’s awesome!”
“Yes, it was—until a plague broke out on the planet of Antilla. Cosmic Rust. There was no cure... it killed millions. The Bridges had to be shut down before the infection spread to Cybertron.”
“So with the Space Bridges out of commission, there was a fuel shortage right?”
“Right. Cities went dark... Decepticons capable of space flight started raiding nearby worlds—drawing the ire of the intergalactic community. Our neighbors threatened to band together and wipe us out if we couldn’t get our people under control.”
“So... what eventually happened?”
“In the end, we wound up going to war with ourselves. Heroic Autobots versus evil Decepticons.”

My comm starts to flash—Prime’s ready to go. From what I gather, our partners at the Institute bear a little more looking into... but unfortunately I don’t have the time to spare.

The kid’s quiet for the ride home. I think he realizes now that the ‘Cons aren’t here to just raid a few power plants and go home. They’re here for it all... every micro-erg of energy that this mudball has to offer.

If you’re a human, that’s a very scary realization indeed.

(to be continued)

PART 59

OVERDRIVE

I’m hanging on a wall in one of the lower levels of the Nemesis... spikes shoved through my forearms and lower legs transfix me to it like some sort of living wall decoration. Water cascades over my head... the salt water pours through the holes in my damaged armor plating causing my circuitry to snap, crackle and pop. The Decepticons’ interrogator, Laserbeak, slowly burns scorch marks across my chest with his lasers. A language program in my brain translates his squawks into words that I can understand. I pretend that I don’t.

A laser beam strikes a stream of water and turns it into steam. The steam rises in front of my visor the same way I wish that my spark would rise up out of my body.

I don’t think I can take much more of this.

Megatron strolls in with his favorite stooge, Rumble. Megatron’s refreshed, fully repaired—all of the damages he was reported to have sustained during his attack on the Ark have been erased. His comm is flashing constantly, Soundwave must not be around to screen his calls. I listen in...

“Lord Megatron! This is Vapor Trail, my squad has captured two Autobots!”
“What are their names and functions?”
“Uhhh one says his name is Bluestreak—he’s a gunner. The other one states his name as Cliffjumper and says um, that his function is Decepticon destroyer.”

Megatron grumbles something inaudible. I know the mech he’s talking to... this “Vapor Trail”. He’s a generic Seeker out to make a name for himself and for his squad. And these three creeps took down Bluestreak and Cliffjumper? No way. A ‘Bot as heavily armed as Bluestreak must’ve been halfway blown to scrap already to get captured by these clown-droids.

“Tailspin found the gunner cowering in a fetal position behind a pile of rocks, Lord Megatron!”
“Take them over the Space Bridge and transport them to the Smelting Pool. Broadcast their deaths... I want Prime to see his soldiers being melted down into slag.”
“At once, Lord Megatron!”

Megatron finally gets the chance to focus his full attention on me. He begins to speak and then his comm flashes once more. The voice that filters through the speaker stabs me through the spark.

“Megatron, this is Camshaft! I’m unable to get in contact with my handler, Soundwave.”
“He’s off planet. What information do you have for us, Autobot?”
“It’s Prime. He’s headed toward the Island of No Return with Prowl and a few others—myself included. He’s after the Energon on that cargo ship that we used to transport one of Iacon’s battery towers to Earth. Wheeljack thinks he can come up with a way to purify the Energon left in the fuel tanks.”

Megatron nods. “That is valuable information... you have done well, worm.”
“Hey um, Lord Megatron...? I know Ramjet’s on that island and that he’s got a rep for playing rough, so... tell him to go easy on me, pleeease Megatron, I--zzzt!”

Megatron cuts off the connection. I can’t believe it—Camshaft! A traitor! But suddenly it all makes sense. Jazz didn't send a transmission ordering us to land—it was Soundwave working together with Camshaft all along! Camshaft’s the one who sabotaged the battery tower’s control console while it was still aboard the ship. He also supplied the frequencies for our comms—enabling Soundwave to spread dysfunction with words spliced together from intercepted Autobot transmissions.

What's just as greasy is the fact that Soundwave tried to set Starscream up to get scrapped by sending my squad to Sherman Dam. I heard whispers that Soundwave was ruthless in his desire to rise up the ranks—turns out those rumors were true. The real shocker is Camshaft, though. I gotta escape... I gotta warn Prime that there’s a traitor in his midst.

“Vapor Trail! Stop what you are doing and proceed to these coordinates-“
“B-but Lord Megatron, what about the prisoners? You told us to-“
“Hand them off to someone else! I need you three to provide reinforcements to Ramjet’s squad immediately!”

Megatron is starting to run hot. My plan is to make him run hotter.

“Busy day, huh Megs? Seems like your underlings can’t shift a tail rudder without asking you which direction they should rotate it first.”

Rumble draws his weapon and aims it at me.

“Shut up, punk! The boss didn’t ask ya ta talk!”
I laugh. “What...? You’re Megatron’s vocal processor now, Rumble? Megatron’s a big mech, he can speak for himself.”

Megatron reaches up and squeezes my faceplate with one hand... my cheeks begin to buckle.

“Bored Autobot...? Are you in a hurry to die?”
“Yeah, I’m bored... bored to the point of stasis lock! I heard that you were this big military genius Megatron, but to be totally honest... I just don’t see it.”

Megatron wedges his cannon under my chin. This isn’t going as planned...

“Megatron, wait! You know the Ion battery tower that you took from us?”
“Took? Prowl left it on my property! After my Constructicons finish repairing it, I fully intend to have it airlifted back to him. Then I’m going to climb inside it and level the Ark... personally!”

Megatron begins to laugh. I smile.

“Starscream was in here earlier gloating about how the ‘Bots back home got tricked into swiping tainted cubes...”

Megatron has a blank look on his face. My turn to start laughing.

“The tower, bucket head! Where do you think we got the Energon from to power it? That battery tower was pumped full of poisoned fuel! It’s a burnt out piece of junk now! It’ll never function again!”

He yanks me off the wall by the throat, I twist and transform out of his grasp as he pulls me close. Tires screech on wet metal tiles—I’m free! Hold on—I’m not out of the smelter yet! Laserbeak’s on my tail. I hear Rumble’s pile drivers hit the floor, the floor starts shaking... Megatron’s yelling—

“Rumble, you idiot! Not in here!”

The shockwaves from Rumble’s pile drivers blow out a section of the Nemesis’ outer wall. Water pours in, I shift to aerial mode and sail through the hole in the Nemesis’ hull like a torpedo. The surface is near... I hit open air, the sun is shining... I aim my front bumper for the sky.

Starscream bursts out of the clouds above, showering me with cluster bombs. Pieces of my body explode! I hit the sand hard and revert back to robot mode. I’m a wreck! My legs won’t move... not sure if I even still have legs. As I roll over onto my back I see Megatron emerge from the water. Starscream transforms, his winged shadow looms large over me, blotting out the sun.

“Lose something, ‘o mighty Megatron?”
“Yes... I see that you’ve found it, Starscream."

Megatron transforms into a gun, Starscream reaches out to catch it. My life flashes before my optics—

“Finish him.” Megatron rasps.

The whole world blazes bright. I can feel myself floating... I’m looking down at myself, Starscream is standing over me, pointing Megatron. There’s smoke where my face should be... and then... then I realize it—

I’m dead.

Dead!

The Allspark opens up before me... it calms me. It beckons me to come and add all my knowledge, my experiences and every emotion that I’ve ever felt to it’s collective essence... I oblige wholeheartedly.

War has no meaning to me anymore... I’ve found my peace.

(to be continued)

PART 60

Prowl. En route to the Island of No Return.

Our shuttle slices through the skies over the Atlantic with Sideswipe at the helm, deftly guiding us high above it’s endless choppy waters. His brother Sunstreaker stands nearby, arms crossed, brooding as usual. Prime looks at a map of our destination on a monitor next to me, Gears plays Galaga on the monitor across the isle, and Camshaft is busy being nervous.

The other Autobots say Camshaft’s a survivor. They say that he always returns from a mission fully functional, even if the rest of his squad got scrapped. It’s part of the reason why I brought him with us. If this “Island of No Return” lives up to it’s name, then he’s the one ‘Bot who might make it back with the fuel we need.

Prime reaches out and grabs my arm. He seems rocky. Disoriented.

“He’s gone,” he says.
“Who? Who’s gone, Prime?”
“Overdrive... he’s been terminated... I felt it.”

Optimus has the attention of nearly everyone in the room. I know that he’s a Prime, and that there’s a certain amount of mysticism surrounding that title, but still... the skeptic in me can’t help but wonder...

“How is it possible that you felt Overdrive’s passing, Prime, but not Huffer’s?”
“I don’t know. I suspect Overdrive had an affinity for the Matrix.”
“You’re saying that the Decepticons snuffed the spark of a future Matrix-bearer?”
“There’s no other explanation for it, Prowl.”

That’s hard for me to process. Overdrive had his faults.... in fact, he had a lot of them. If anything this just bolsters my belief that the Matrix just selects ‘Bots at random, without rhyme or reason.

Gears turns off his game. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he tells Camshaft.
“Thanks, Gears. Me, Overdrive, Downshift... we were manufactured in the same factory together. Those ‘Bots are like brothers to me... were like brothers to me. We may have all been reassigned to different units more times than I can count, but the three of us always found our way back to each other. Now... one of us is gone.”
Camshaft buries his head in his hands. ”I can’t believe it,” he moans.
“Aww, you’ve still got us, bro!” Sideswipe assures him.
“Meh, that’s what happens when you’re a survivor,” ”observes” Sunstreaker.
“What do you mean?” asks Camshaft.
“Bots get cut down all around you while you keep on rolling. Get used to it.”
“C’mon ‘Streaker!” Sideswipe objects. “Cam just lost someone close to him! Is there any warmth in your spark at all?”
“I’m only saying that you would think that the last survivor of the campaign on Chaar would be desensitized to death by now. Hundreds of Autobots died during that battle—‘Bots like Delta Magnus, Cordon, Beta Supreme...! How’d you even manage to survive that massacre, Camshaft? Much less blast off of that rock all by yourself?”
“That’s enough, Sunstreaker!” Optimus warns.

Prime’s right for stepping in, but I gotta admit—it’s a fair question. One that Camshaft doesn’t get the chance to answer—

Explosions rock the roof of the shuttle... three Seekers streak ahead of us. Sideswipe lets the missiles fly... the trio of Genericons vanish into the heavy cloud cover above with two missiles each trailing their tail fins.

In the distance I can see Ramjet heading straight for us. Sideswipe launches another volley... Ramjet rolls...one trio of projectiles skims his undercarriage while the others soar over his cockpit. They’re heat seekers so of course they all do a U-turn and keep on coming... Ramjet does too. The idiot collides with the shuttle head on, leading our own missiles back to us to blow up in our faceplates. Now I know how Wheeljack feels every time one of his experiments goes awry.

The front of the shuttle is wide open and we’re losing altitude. The water forces me to the rear of the shuttle when we go under. It pushes me in every direction when I try to swim away. I’m bashed against walls, rocks, and every piece of jetsam in between as I struggle to make it ashore. I’m on the island’s rocky shore now... on my knees sputtering. During my short swim to the surface I came to the realization that there is no possible way that Mirage swam off of this island. We will encounter him at some point during this mission. But will he be friend or foe when we do?

“Look alive, Prowl!”

Sunstreaker. He’s got his gun arm pointed straight at me. I duck and the electron pulse that he fired crackles over my head and into the right optic of the Seeker standing behind me. The ‘Con’s brain burns to a crisp... smokes wafts out of his olfactory sensors and then he collapses backward into the waves.

There’s no time for thank yous because I hear jet engines—they’re close... In 0.9 seconds a Decepticon jet is going to fly over the ridge behind Sunstreaker and drop bombs on both of us. I draw my weapon and aim it at the exact spot I calculate him to appear in. Sunstreaker launches a shoulder mounted ground-to-air rocket without so much as a glance upward before I can pull the trigger. Direct hit! The egotist takes a bow as parts rain down on him from above like confetti.

“I got two up on you, Prowl!” he laughs. “Stop playing in the water and come join the party!”

The terrain is too rough to roll over, so we hike the rest of the way to the ship while taking in the scenery. The Island’s small, even by Earth standards. It consists of a mountain range with sparse foliage and a few caverns from which an enemy could stage an ambush. We keep our heads on a swivel.

Gears and Camshaft are already there when we reach the ship. The first thing that I notice is that Gears is in possession of Prime’s blaster.

“Where’s Prime?”
“We don’t know,” Gears shrugs. “I found his rifle lying on the beach.”
“No sign of Sideswipe either,” adds Camshaft. “Neither one of ‘em is answering their comms.”
“This mission’s off to a great start,” I mumble. I’m being sarcastic.
“I wouldn’t worry about Prime,” Gears replies. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
The look on Sunstreaker’s million shanix faceplate is priceless.
“Optimism from you, Gears?” he scoffs “You got a glitch in your personality chip or something?”
Gears wastes no time in correcting him.
“I said I’m sure that Prime will be alright… It’s the rest of us that’ll probably end up getting scrapped.”

First Optimus receives information from beyond the scrap heap, and now Gears is having premonitions. Gotta focus and concentrate on eliminating all superstitious elements from my mind. Their inclusion is starting to influence my logic center.

“Camshaft! How’s that access panel look to you? Can you tell if any Decepti-creeps made it onto the ship?”
“Hotlink busted up this panel pretty good Prowl, but he failed to gain entry. This things a mess... the optic scanner on it still works though.”
“Then use it, we’re sitting cyber-ducks out here!”
“I was just ah, waiting for you to say the word.”
“The word is given! Get us in there!”

Camshaft’s stalling. It’s the Island... it’s getting to everyone.

Including me.

(to be continued)

PART 61

Prowl

The door to the ship opens and the four of us step inside. It’s dim. The lights flicker in some corridors while others are completely black. I make the decision to split everyone up for the sake of expediency.

“Camshaft, seal the door and stand guard. Radio me right away if you see Prime or Sideswipe.”
“Got it.”
“Gears, you head down to the engine room and start draining the fuel tanks.”
“And what am I supposed to store the Energon in? It won’t be in cube form, it’ll be liquified!”
“It’s a cargo ship, Gears. I’m sure there’s plenty of empty barrels lying around here somewhere.”
“Yeah, which brings us to our next problem.” adds Sunstreaker. “Just how are we getting the Energon back to the Ark without a shuttle?”
“Take a walk with me to the bridge. I’ll use the ship’s radio to call Ironhide and have him pick us up in the other shuttle.”

I don’t need the ship’s communicator to do that. I can just as easily use my comm to contact Ironhide. I want to get to the ship’s communications console so I can check it’s call log. I want to see who everyone who’s been aboard this ship has been in contact with.

The first thing I notice when we get to the bridge is that there’s dust everywhere. Prime must’ve ordered Overdrive to bring this ship to Earth as soon as he started receiving reports that Autobot raids on Decepticon depots were suddenly yielding astro-tons of Energon. Nobody had time to tidy the place up.

The first thing Ironhide wants to know when I contact him is “where’s Optimus?” The old ‘Bot is usually welded to Prime’s skid plate everywhere he goes—and he would have been included on this mission if he hadn’t already been sent to deal with Starscream’s crew. Ironhide takes the last of the Ark’s Energon and hops aboard our only remaining shuttle. The fuel situation back at the Ark is beyond critical. Soon we’ll be forced to make a list of who is going to be on which side of a transference tube just to ensure that they’ll still be someone clanking around to fight for the cause.

Sunstreaker watches my back while I peruse the call log. One transmission went out to the Ark shortly after the ship left Cybertron. A few calls went back and forth to Bumblebee before it landed on Earth, and then two more calls after it was stolen... one to Natron, and the other to Freezon—two of Mirage’s high-priced friends who fled to Velocitron shortly after the war began. The ship’s navigation computer tells the rest of the story—Mirage planned to travel to his old estate in the ruins of Crystal City before moving on to Velocitron.

Apparently Mirage still has some Shanix stashed away there—most likely in an underground vault. He obviously intends to use his money to buy himself a new life on Velocitron. I remember that the Velocitronians managed to cut themselves off from the other colonies before the rust plague reached their planet. After that, they refused to take sides in what they called the “Cybertronian war” and declared independence. Bad move. If Megatron conquers Cybertron, every mech that scored above a intelligence tech specs rating of two knows that Velocitron’s next.

“Prowl... did you hear that?”
“No...”
“It came from the engine room... sounded like a laser blast.”
“Gears was in there. Let’s roll!”

We transform and accelerate down the hall like we’re on the Iacon Speedway. There’s a crime scene waiting for us when we arrive at our destination. Gears is sprawled out on the floor with a big hole in the kibble behind his head. His optics are dark when I flip him over. There’s an exit wound on his forehead. He’s gone.

“You think Mirage did this?” shouts Sunstreaker. “You think Mirage turned ‘Con?”
“It’s a possibility.” I reply. “Do me a favor and go get Camshaft... I’d feel better if all three of us were in the same room.”

Sunstreaker changes form and burns rubber. There’s an odor left lingering in the air after his departure, and it’s not exhaust fumes... it’s the smell of argon lasers—the Seeker’s weapon of choice. There’s a circular pattern around Gear’s body that’s free of dust. Clean... like all the dust got pushed back by something.

Hmm. Gears has boosters in his feet that can launch him into the air. I look up at the ceiling... there’s two wedge shaped indentations in it—like something was thrust upwards into it. I once tried to ram a Seeker’s head into a wall during an interrogation and wound up putting two dents in it just like it from the pylons near his shoulders.

I re-enact Gears’ murder in my mind. There’s a struggle. Gears launches himself upward while holding on to the perpetrator... or maybe the perp is holding on to him—and then WHAM! the Decepti-creep hits the ceiling.
Just then Camshaft walks in with Sunstreaker. Good. Time to get some answers.

“Prowl! What’s up? I thought you wanted me guarding the door?”

The cameras in Camshaft’s optics widen when he sees Gears body, but other than that, he doesn’t seem surprised much by his destruction at all... almost as if he expected it to happen. I pull up two chairs, I sit down in one and invite Camshaft to sit in the other.

“Camshaft, before we boarded, I asked you if you could tell if any Decepticons had entered the ship.”
“Uh huh... yeah, but I’m not an engineer—how was I supposed to know if any of them got inside or not?”
“You sure acted like you knew.”
“Nope. No way! No way you’re gonna put the blame on me for this! Gears’ death is on your head Prowl, just like Huffer’s... back in Oregon you knew that there was a Seeker armada headed your way and you—for some bizarre reason—made the decision not to order a retreat. So, first you got Huffer killed, and now Gears is dead too because you had the bright idea to split everyone up! To put it bluntly, you’re just not fit to lead!”
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I knew the Seekers were coming during the attack on the battery tower. Overdrive was the only Autobot with me when I received the warning, and he never made it back to the Ark.”

Camshaft stutters, optics wild with fear. He knows he just messed up. Sunstreaker walks over and presses the barrel of his weapon against Camshaft’s temple... I rise from my chair—what the hell is he going to do!? Sunstreaker fries his cerebral circuitry with what I estimate to be three hundred electron bursts per second. Camshaft’s head slumps forward. I draw my weapon. Sunstreaker aims his...

“You’re under arrest!”
“He was a traitor, Prowl!”
“Yes, he was... but now we’ll never know to what extent, will we?”
“My brother’s rusting at the bottom of the ocean because of this piece of scrap!”
“That doesn’t excuse what you just did. Lower your weapon, that’s an order.”
“Get slagged.”
“Last chance, Sunstreaker.”

We both see it out of the corners of our optics at the same time... that slight shimmer that betrays the presence of a cloaker. Someone else is in here with us.

(to be continued)

PART 62

Optimus Prime.

My self repair systems slowly bring me back online... audio receptors receive garbled speech coming from someone in close proximity... my optic sensors blink on and they reveal that it’s Sideswipe. We’re on the ocean floor. Sideswipe’s pinned down by a large piece of debris from the shuttle... when I move it off of him I discover that he’s been damaged. One side of his chest is badly compressed, hindering the use of his right arm.

Still, he’s a trooper. He uses his rocket pack to propel both of us to the surface, an act that taxes his system to the point of shutdown. There’s a land mass less than a mile away... unfortunately, we do not get the option of reaching it on our own. One hundred foot waves swell from behind to deliver us violently onto it’s rocky shore. I drag myself over to Sideswipe, rise, and then toss him over my shoulder. The island’s terrain proves difficult to navigate, but not impossible. There is a cave nearby... I carry Sideswipe over to it and stand him up in the entrance.

“Rest here, Soldier.”
“No way I’m sitting this one out, Prime! I can still fight!”

He can barely walk. Sideswipe’s desire to prove himself to others has made him one of my best warriors, but I fear the same drive that pushes him to excel may one day lead to his downfall.

Hopefully today will not be that day.

We trudge onward... eventually reaching the crest of a ridge overlooking the object of our desire—the ship that brought the Omnibots to Earth. Our early warning systems begin to flash a moment before the bombs start dropping from the sky. Sideswipe and I have no choice but to leap over the edge and hope for the best.

Three Decepticon jets scream overhead as we hit the slope halfway down and begin sliding swiftly toward the bottom. Dirt and gravel cascade over us from the explosions atop the ridge, Sideswipe chooses his target while still in motion. The missile that he fires quickly overtakes the trio, striking Ramjet’s engines and enveloping the Seeker in an orange fireball.

Undaunted, Thrust and Dirge circle back for another run... the sealed door to the ship lay over a thousand feet ahead of us over rough terrain. Sideswipe can’t make it, but I can. I transform and Sideswipe hops onto the rear tow platform of my alt-mode; riding like a surfer over the Mercury sea while I traverse rocks sharp enough to shred Cybertronian steel.

The heavily armored door to the cargo ship bends like aluminum siding as I barrel through it. Privately I wonder if I would be capable of such a feat if I were not infused with the power of the Matrix. Explosions rock the ship as I transform back to robot mode...

“Sideswipe! Defend this position!”
“And where are you going!?”
“Onward.”

We are not alone. Security monitors flicker to life as I enter the bridge... the scene that they reveal saddens me. Gears slain, Camshaft summarily executed... Autobot squaring off against Autobot while some unseen enemy stalks them both. I turn, parts already shifting to alt-mode as I race for the exit… praying that I make it to the engine room in time to prevent another death.

(to be continued)

PART 63

Sideswipe

I’m hurt. So what! Prime told me to hold this position and that’s what I’m gonna do. Self-repair systems are finally starting to put me back together. Good, right on time. Gonna get me nowhere near a hundred percent without a medic, but I’ve won fights in worst shape.

Seekers are dropping bombs like crazy. The ground is shaking... they’ve got everything beyond fifteen feet of the doorway ablaze. Doesn’t rattle me though. I wanna get out there... smoke’s too thick—can’t see scrap! Transformation sounds... at least one of those Decepti-creeps changed to robot mode. Scanning... to my right—it’s Dirge!

“Autobot! Prepare to meet your Doom!”

’Con opens up full volley—I drop and roll out of the line of fire while getting off a few shots of my own. Ship’s walls are thick, I’m safe as long as I stay outta the doorway. If those Decepti-creeps want me they’ll have to come aboard and get me. Something in Dirge’s voice... something creepy. I grip the handle of my weapon and block out the sub-harmonic frequency that keeps telling me to turn tailpipe and run. I’m going for the win.

The door that Prime bashed down is heavy... the gold tiles on it are energy resistant. I use it as a shield to get closer to Dirge. He hammers it with concussion blasts in an effort to stop my advance—and panics when he sees that it’s not working. He’s lost control of the situation and he knows it. He’s gonna run... I can feel it. I catch him with a flare burst to the back as he turns to take flight. He goes down... he’s screaming, calling out to someone...

“Th-Thrust-! Where are you!? I’m hit!”

His pal is out here somewhere. It’s smoky—still hard to see. Can’t resist walking right up to Dirge for the kill shot. I want the smirk on my faceplate to be the last thing that this ‘Con ever sees.

VTOL fans start up just behind the ridge—It’s Thrust! He rises vertically into the air in alt-mode raining bullets down on me. Dirty Decepti-creep used his teammate as bait! He’s laughing... boasting about how he’s got me out in the open. There’s nothing I can do but raise my shield and hunker down. Shoulder spits sparks as my arm motor begins to fail—forgot about my injury! Can’t move the shield to my other hand without taking some slugs.

Gotta look on the bright side though. If I win this fight my rep gets bigger. If I lose... well then I went down fighting against a worthy opponent. For me, it’s a win-win situation.


(to be continued)

PART 64

Optimus Prime

A wall of flame impedes my path. I transform, going from screeching tires to firmly planted feet in seconds. The Seeker responsible for the obstruction laughs with misguided confidence.

“Too hot for you, Prime? My flamethrower can make a molten mess out of even your durabillium steel hide!”

His name is Hotlink. According to the files we have on him, he is supposedly the Decepticon’s answer to Wheeljack. The files go on to describe him as “first and foremost a gadget fiend,” bolstering my presumption that he is likely to rely heavily on weaponry in this confrontation.

I feign a moment of indecisiveness under one of the ship’s coolant pipes... presenting Hotlink with what appears to be an easy target. He takes the bait. I hit the floor. The fireblast destroys the pipe above me, turning it’s contents to steam. Visibility is now zero. Neither one of us can detect the other using just optics alone. I remain still, listening for the sound of movement.

A section of the ceiling collapses, startling the Seeker. He whirls toward it. I leap into action. He’s swift. He doesn’t lose his head to my energon axe. Instead, the blade strikes the hose feeding fuel to his flamethrower. Realizing that his primary weapon has been rendered useless, he brings his arm rifles up to fire at the exact moment that my foot finds his chest. His shots miss their mark and my kick sends him sprawling into the wall of flame. The resulting explosion is both violent and immediate. After the smoke clears, only a smoldering crater remains in the spot where Hotlink was last seen.

Unfortunately, I do not have the luxury of time to confirm if my enemy has indeed joined the Allspark, but I know that in this battle I have seen the last of him.

(to be continued)

PART 65

Prowl

Staccato bursts of laser fire leave both Sunstreaker and I on the floor in pools of our own Energon. The assailant chuckles as he drops his cloaking field—it’s the last of the three generic Seekers we encountered en route to the island.

“You remember me, Autobot?”
“Should I?”
“Yeah... the name’s Vapor Trail. I was shot down and captured while on patrol over Kalis. You hauled me into an abandoned building and interrogated me for almost a full cycle… It was brutal! I had fissures and acid burns over every inch of my body. You even tried ramming my head into a wall!”

Ah. Uh oh. I start to laugh. Long and hard. I’m stalling... it’s the only option I have left.

“Laugh it up. Good times, huh? Do you remember what happened next? Do you? I do. Skywarp popped in and shot your rear end to pieces... left you lying on the floor in a puddle just like you are now. If it wasn’t for the rest of your squad rushing in when they did, you’d have joined the scrap heap a long, long time ago.”

Vapor Trail moves behind me and presses his weapon against the back of my cranial casing. The barrel’s still scorching hot, I can feel the heat from the last shots he fired—the shots that put me in the condition that I’m in now.

“No last minute saves for you this time around, Auto-wreck. One shot to the back of the head and PEW! you’re dead, just like the red and blue runt laying next to y-“

His monologue’s cut short by the sound of the creep’s own head exploding. The hiss of a fuel droplet from a ruptured rocket dart sizzles on my cheek. A rectangle composed of pure energy materializes out of thin air and a familiar figure appears within.

Mirage crosses his arms and looks down at me.

“Well... what’s next?” I ask.
“You owe me,” he says. “Put in a good word with Prime.”
“Seems like I owe everybody today,” I mumble.

I don’t get the full meaning of what Mirage meant until a few seconds later when I see Prime thundering down the corridor. He reverts to robot-mode upon arrival without saying a word... I follow his optics as they go from the dead Decepticon, to Gears, to Camshaft, to Sunstreaker and Mirage, and then finally… to me.

“Prowl, what happened?”

Optimus extends a hand to help me up. I give him my report.
“The same Seeker that terminated Gears got the drop on us. Luckily, Mirage arrived in the nick of time to save the day—turns out he’s not the deserter I originally believed him to be. The only reason why he commandeered this ship in the first place was to keep it out of Decepticon hands.”

“How’d you wind up so far off course, Mirage? Optimus asks him.
“I tried shaking the Seekers off of my tail and wound up discovering that I’m not much of a pilot, Prime.”

Mirage’s explanation elicits a laugh even though I know Prime doesn’t believe a word of it. I think he’s happy just having Mirage back in the fold again. Now Sunstreaker on the other hand... Prime places his hands on his hips and stares at him as he struggles to his feet. The room booms with the authority in his voice as he begins to speak.

“Sunstreaker, when we return to the Ark you will undergo repairs for your injuries under armed guard. Once you are restored, you will then be moved to a cell to await punishment for the crime you have committed here today.”

Sunstreaker’s silent. He accepts his fate and stares down at the floor without saying a word. Sunstreaker saved my skid plate when we first arrived on this so called “Island of No Return.” Here’s where I repay the favor. My days as a police officer are over… those days are done. It’s time to start thinking like a military strategist full time. We can’t win a war without warriors, and sometimes those warriors are going to do things that even I’m not comfortable with. I don’t have to like it, I just have to keep reminding myself that that’s just the way it has to be until we win… or lose.

“Prime?”
“Yes, Prowl?”

“I request leniency on Sunstreaker’s behalf. At the time he terminated Camshaft, he suspected that the deceased was secretly transmitting live audio to one or more high-ranking Decepticons—most likely Soundwave, maybe even to Megatron himself. Sunstreaker perceived Camshaft as an active threat, and he believed that his only option was to neutralize him right then and there.”

I know for a fact that Camshaft wasn’t in communication with anyone when he was executed, but at least this provides Sunstreaker with an alibi that’s all but impossible to disprove. It’s difficult to get information from a dead ‘Bot’s database. Believe me, I know.

“In addition, Dirge is—or was—one of the combatants on this island, Prime. Autobots that have encountered him in the field claim that he possesses some sort of fear inducing ability. That would account for the sense of unease that I felt—we all felt—the moment we set foot upon this island... and I know that you’re well aware of what kind of effect fear can have on the decision making process.”

Prime rests his hand on the bottom of his mouth plate... my debts are as good as paid.

“Sunstreaker, I will consider allowing you to return to active duty only if you agree to one thing.”
“What’s that?” coughs Sunstreaker.
“That you allow Ratchet to perform a full psychological evaluation on you after your repairs are completed.”
“Fine, whatever. Where’s my brother, Prime? Why isn’t he with you?”

Prime’s comm slides down from the side of his helmet, I can tell by the look on his face that he’d momentarily forgotten all about Sideswipe. It’s understandable, given the circumstances.

“Sideswipe, come in!”
“Sideswipe here, over.”
“Report status. What is the situation out there?”
“All clear! Thrust and Dirge showed me their tail rudders when Ironhide arrived on the scene—I guess those bozos weren’t up for a fair fight. Hey, anyone wanna help me fish Ramjet out of the water?”
“Negative on that, Sideswipe. Leave him. Where is Ironhide now?”
“Headed your way with a message from Cybertron. It’s marked for your optics only.”

Hmm, interesting. It’s either a report from one of our spies behind enemy lines, or a video so demoralizing that whoever sent it couldn’t risk it being viewed by the rank and file. I suppose I’ll find out which soon enough.

Ironhide pauses briefly and shakes his head at the carnage when he enters the room, but otherwise keeps a stoic expression on his faceplate as he marches up to Prime.

“Ironhide, old friend... how have things been in my absence?”
“Not good, Prime. Starscream and company have taken control of a oil drilling platform off the coast. Usin’ Sky Spy, Teletraan estimates they’re already up to a million astro-liters of Energon and counting.”

Ironhide hands Optimus a data slug, then the old ‘Bot takes a seat.

“Two things,” he continues. “One. Whatever’s on that doohickey I just gave ya requires yer immediate attention. Two, Hauler’s missing.”
“Missing?”
“Yep. I went down into the hole he was diggin’ to check up on him and he was nowhere ta be found.”
“Were there signs of a struggle?”
“Plenty. Saw some additional sets of tracks leadin’ up into another tunnel that I followed out into the desert... I think he’s been ‘Bot-napped.”

(to be continued)

PART 66

Bluestreak

Back on Earth I gave into my fear.

The sound of so many Seekers approaching... my mind went into a loop. I was in Praxus again on the day the bombs fell. It was just too much. I shut down... again.

Now here we are—and when I say “we”, I mean Cliffjumper and me—both of us, aboard Astrotrain, headed to the last city on Cybertron that any Autobot wants to be in—Polyhex. Upon our arrival, the guards snatch us off Astrotrain with glee. They tell us that Megatron wants them to record the two of us doing the backstroke in the Smelting Pool.

“Not gonna happen!” Cliffjumper shouts defiantly. “We’ll let our arms and legs melt away before we ever give you clowns the pleasure!”

Ugh. Not a pretty picture, but we’ve got nothing to fight them with. They took all our weapons—or so I thought. At the security checkpoint there’s a long line of Transformers ahead of us. Autobots, Empties, Nails... no one speaks to anyone else for fear of having their vocoders ripped out. It’s certainly enough to keep me quiet. After what seems like an eternity, we finally make it to the front of the line. The weapons detector doesn’t make a peep when I pass through it—I’m clean. It goes crazy when Cliffjumper is shoved through, though. The guards are furious!

“Crosscut, you bug-eyed bozo! I thought you scanned that little runt for weapons!”
“I did, Ferak! He had two blasters on him—I took them both! You saw me!”
“Well, you missed one, scrap-brain! Quick! Gimme something to pry him open! I’ll find that weapon!”

Thank Primus there wasn’t a chainsaw nearby, because those monsters would have surely used it to flay Cliffjumper open with a smile on their faceplates. Thank Primus again that the screener doesn’t have time for shenanigans, he wants to keep his line moving.

“Get outta here and take ‘im ta Bombshell! Tell ‘im ta check ‘im for sub-storage space pockets... I betcha that’s where this punks got his pistol stashed!”

As the guards take Cliffjumper away, I figure that his was the last friendly faceplate that I was ever going to see before they melt me down. Wrong on that account, too. After I’m locked up, one of the guards, Counterpunch, comes over to my cell and starts a conversation. Not an interrogation, mind you—he doesn’t ask me any questions about locations or fortifications—but an actual conversation! What did we talk about? People. Places. Earth. Cybertron. How things used to be, and everything in between.

I want to ask—“why are you a Decepticon?” But I don’t want to offend him. Sure, we get manufactured as either a Autobot or Decepticon, but that doesn’t mean you have to remain that way. In the end, it’s a choice. The big Decepticon in the cell across from me—Skyfire—I can see a mech like him wearing an Autobot badge. He’s not evil like the others. How do I know? You’ve got to be a big time Autobot sympathizer to wind up at the Smelting Pool. Deserters and traitors don’t make it this far.

At some point after Counterpunch leaves I get bored and drift offline. I get jolted back to consciousness astro-minutes later by a loud argument. Ratbat and the big bad of this whole operation—Straxus—are going at it. Apparently Iacon’s under siege and the three hundred or so Decepti-goons surrounding the Great Dome are guzzling Energon faster than they can haul it in. Ratbat wants the staff at the Smelting Pool to drain our fuel tanks dry before throwing us into the pool.

“This facility is incredibly wasteful!” Ratbat shrieks. “Every time a Transformer gets tossed into the pool, thousands of astro-liters of Energon literally go up in smoke!”

Straxus begs to differ.

“The fuel left in a slagger’s liquefying corpse serves a purpose, vermin!”
“Which is? What purpose could possibly be served by leaving perfectly good Energon inside of a Transformer condemned to death?”
“It makes the pool burn hotter, you data driven dolt! The larger Autobot scrapheaps won’t melt down properly unless the pool achieves a certain temperature!”

Ratbat refuses to budge until Straxus complies, so Straxus decides to manually transform Ratbat against his will on his way to see him out the door. All the screaming and sounds of titanium being twisted in ways it shouldn’t tells me that Straxus definitely skipped a few steps during the conversion process. I mean Ratbat has one of the simplest alt-modes ever! He transforms into a rectangular data storage... thing. How on Cybertron can you screw that up? Well, unless you’re being sadistic... which Straxus certainly is—duh!

A little while later I see Whirl. He’s one of the Wreckers... I wonder where the rest of them are? I hope they’re still functional... ‘Bots don’t seem to last too long in Impactor’s unit. Whirl’s a good fighter—he’s also a certified nut-job. He looks as if he’s having the time of his life as a big blocky guard marches him right past my cell. An astro-second later he lets everyone else in on the joke...

“Silly Decepticon,” he laughs. “Cuffs are for hands!”

Whirl narrows his pincers and slips his restraints, he transforms as the guard lunges for him. The result is... let’s just say that now I know what the Wreckers mean by “doing it Wrecker Style.” Whirl’s razor-tipped rotor blades chop the ‘Con to pieces, splattering the corridor with Energon and littering it with spare parts. The entire cell block goes crazy! Whirl reverts back to robot-mode and pumps his pincers in the air. ‘Bots are cheering and stomping and banging on the walls of their cells! The sound’s deafening... but then my audio receptors pick up this strange whistling sound rising above it all...

Two missiles hit Whirl center mass causing his limbs to fly off in different directions. I glitch as I try to turn my head away from his burning body. The stench is awful! I can’t do it, my neck won’t move. It’s happening again... I’m freezing up. The ‘Con that destroyed Whirl drifts by in cannon mode, missile pods still smoking. It’s Straxus. He transforms back, making a point to crunch Whirl’s charred cranium under his heel as he does. At least fifty Decepticons flood into the corridor... gathering around him in total silence. I almost know what Straxus is about to say before he says it.

“So you slaggers want to celebrate?” he bellows. “Well then, let’s get the party started! Everyone into the pool!”

(to be continued)

PART 67

Moonbase One.

Cybertron’s first moon had drifted far enough from the planet that it no longer held any strategic value to the Decepticons. Isolated in space and nearly exhausted of resources, the barren Planetoid now serves as home to the Autobot commando team known as the Dinobots.

Deep underground inside their secret headquarters, Slag awoke from his stasis pod to find his leader, Grimlock, standing over him.
“Prime have mission for Dinobots, Slag! You last one to be re-activated, so get rear in gear! Rest of Dinobots already aboard Spaceship.”
“What mission about, Grimlock?” Slag inquired, adjusting his optics to the bright light.
“Me give briefing after takeoff.” Grimlock replied.
Slag was intrigued. Usually Grimlock would just come out and tell him what crew of ‘Cons was scheduled to get stomped, slashed, thrashed, shot and turned to slag. Now if his leader felt the need to take time out to discuss a mission objective other than mindless destruction, then that meant that all the Dinobots were in for an interesting time indeed.



“We go to place Autobots scared to tread.” Grimlock announced to the five Dinobots seated before him. He stared for a moment out the window as Moonbase One grew smaller in the distance. “Where cowardly Autobot see pit of death”, he continued. “Me Grimlock see honeypot.”
“Mmmm, big Sludge like honey.” beamed Sludge.
“Then you get your fill on this mission, Sludge. We Dinobots go to Smelting Pool!”
“Ehhh, why for? objected Snarl. “Why Dinobots care if Nail get melted down?
“Plenty Autobots get slagged at Smelling Pool too, Snarl.” Grimlock informed him.
Snarl considered this fact for a moment before he spoke again.
“Ehhh. Still me no care.” he replied.
“Me Swoop no care either!”
“Dinobotss like fight, yesss?” inquired Paddles.
“Yes! Yes! Me Slag want to fight! Fight good!” answered Slag.
“RAAWK! Swoop agree! You fight, Snarl?”
“Hnn,” nodded Snarl. “Me fight.”
“If other Dinobots go fight, then me Sludge go too.”
“Good. Me beginning to think some of you robo-chicken in disguise,” teased Grimlock. “This not mission to rescue puny Autobots!” he shouted, suddenly turning serious. “This mission to help many bright Sparks at Smelting Pool fly free of dull Decepticon body shells while in process of liberating political prisoner!”
Sludge looked bewildered. “Sludge no understand what you mean Grimlock.”
“Yeah! Too poetic!” complained Snarl. “Speak plain!”
“Fine. Me Grimlock say we go to Smelting Pool and destroy every Decepticon... except one. Him we rescue.”
“Why?” asked Paddles. “Why Dinobotss make exception? Why Dinobotss go rescue dumb Decepticon?”
“Why? Me Grimlock tell you why. It because Optimus Prime say dumb Decepticon have important information. Autobot spy stationed at Smelting Pool send message to Prime on Earth. Spy say Decepticon know how to shut down Space Bridge there permanently. Now Dinobots have any other questions for Grimlock? Me want to polish teeth before battle.”
“What Decepticon name?” inquired Swoop.
“Him called... Skyfire.”

(to be continued)

PART 68

POLYHEX

“Grimlock, come!” Swoop called, pulling back on the Valiant’s control yoke.
“Look! Dinobots enter Polyhex airspace!”
Grimlock rushed over to look out of the ship’s windshield, ahead lay the Dinobot’s destination- the Smelting Pool. During the Golden Age it was the site of Polyhex Stadium, an outdoor arena where rival teams from neighboring cities competed in games of Cube and other Cybertronian sports. Now it is a place of extreme suffering. The roar of the crowd has been supplanted by the screams of the dying. Prisoners are pushed into a pit of red hot molten metal, melted down and recycled for use as raw materials. Decepticons with enormous bulldozer alt-modes herd prisoners encircled in Energon bands to their fiery doom, while heavily armed guards ensure that none who enter the depths of the Smelting Pool ever emerge again in solid form.
“Hn. Lot of commotion down there.” Grimlock grunted. “Straxus bring out prisoners ahead of schedule.”
“Dinobots witness mass smelting.” Swoop said sorrowfully.
“This change things. Paddles!” Grimlock shouted, beckoning the large Dinobot up to the bridge.
The smile that was routinely fixed over Paddles faceplate faded the instant he realized what he had been summoned for.
“Paddles, you take over for Swoop. Keep ship in the air, away from laser fire.”
“That no fair, Grimlock!” objected Paddles. “Paddelsss never go on mission!”
“Me Grimlock say you right.” Grimlock said, placing a hand on the dejected Dinobot’s shoulder. “So me make it up to you.”
“Really?” Paddles beamed.
“Oh, yes. When Dinobots have water mission, me let you do whole thing solo. Happy?”
“Happy!” Paddles laughed, clanking down in the pilot’s chair.
“But Grimlock”, Swoop whispered. “Dinobots never go on water mission.”
“Shush! Lower vocoder.” Grimlock hissed. “Paddles too dumb to realize Decepticons not build base underwater, so mission never occur. Paddles good pilot, not fighter.”



When the duo reached the rear of the vessel, they found the other three Dinobots with the bay doors already opened in anticipation of the jump down to the surface.
“Swoop, you go first.” commanded Grimlock. “Show Decepticons that Dinobots know how to make entrance.”
Sludge and Snarl took a step back as Swoop transformed into his alt-mode—a robotic version of a Pterodactyl that most mechs found to be utterly horrifying.
“He ugly.” Grimlock laughed as Swoop dived, targeting a group of ground bound Decepticons. “But him use deformity to great advantage.”
The Smelting Pool staffers began to flee at the sight of the bird-creature, to terrified to even take aim as the airborne menace descended toward them.
“There.” Grimlock said, pointing to a plume of black smoke rising skyward. “Two wing-mounted payloads of death delivered. Now we land in spot Swoop just clear for us.”
The Dinobot commander leapt out of the Valiant first with the others following his lead. The quartet transformed to Dino-modes halfway down, each member making a thunderous impact upon landing that sent every Decepticon soldier present into successive levels of panic.
“RAAAWK!” Swoop cawed from above. “No sign of prisoner.”
A harvester unit flanked by several smaller vehicles bristling with weaponry barreled toward them.
“Slag, big one yours.” ordered Grimlock. “Melt him down to size!”
Slag bounded forward and spewed a stream of fire from his mouth that turned one of the harvester’s treads into slag. Immobilized, the rest of the convoy veered around him—coming into close contact with the Dinobots, which is exactly what Grimlock wanted.
The Decepticons spun circles around the heavily armored Dinobots, their projectiles and energy weapons causing minimal—if any—damage. Some of the more determined among them transformed and engaged their robo-reptilian adversaries with melee weapons, only to quickly discover the futility of their actions as they were subsequently trampled, tail-whipped and torn to pieces.
To his credit, the doomed battalion’s lieutenant had attempted to signal a retreat at the first sign that the battle was going badly, but his orders were muffled inside Grimlock’s maw when the titanic Tyrannosaurus clamped his jaws down over his head and chest, tearing it away from the rest of his body. Staccato bursts of laser fire from cannons—mounted in Grimlock’s mouth where an actual T-Rex’s tongue would be—cut down the rest of the deactivated lieutenant’s fleeing forces.
“Onwaaarrdd!” Grimlock bellowed. “Onward to Darkmount!”

(to be continued)

PART 69

Straxus

The very floor beneath my throne trembles. The reports come flooding in... Prime has sent his beasts to my domain. I rise with one question on my mind... with so many Decepticons amassed outside Iacon, why would Prime send troops to Polyhex? Unless... there is something here that he needs desperately... or someone. Perhaps the two Autobots from Earth who arrived aboard Astrotrain? Unlikely. They’re both lower ranking grunts... not worth the Energon expended in a rescue attempt—even by an Autobot’s twisted logic. I raise my comm to my vocoder...

“Shrapnel, acknowledge.”
“Yes, Lord Straxus, what is your command command?”
“See to it that the procession of slaggers into the pool flows uninterrupted, insect. I will deal with Prime’s Dino-dolts.”

I move to one of Darkmount’s lower balconies and stand silently. I study the battles raging above and below the way a scientist would a data stream. The Dinobots tear through my troops like a tornado through tin foil. Each member has their own method of attack. Each assault beautiful in it’s brutality.

Swoop has taken total command of the airspace above Polyhex. The Seekers that rocket upward to challenge him are beaten back with bombs and talons.

A swing of Snarl’s tail turns a captain of the guard into a cannonball that plows through what’s left of his own legion.

Slag impales an officer on his horns and hoists the flailing fool high like a trophy. His subordinates immediately open fire on the beast, striking their superior and inadvertently finishing the job that the damnable Dinobot began.

Darkmount trembles once again. The largest of them, Sludge, stomps upon the ground, producing a shockwave that sends several of my guards tumbling into the Smelting Pool. The ones who survive watch in horror as the beast grabs the simpleton, Shothole, by the leg and proceeds to swing him around like a club, bashing everyone in close proximity to bits. The dimwitted Dinobot’s attack would be most comical if it weren’t my own mechs down there being destroyed.

Some may look upon the Dinobots and see an unstoppable force of nature... but I have discovered their one true weakness. Grimlock. He is the key. He is the maestro to their madness. If Grimlock were to be removed from the field of play, his followers would lose focus. Yes, the battle would still rage, but the unit itself would become destabilized, disassembled, and then eventually... defeated. I flip a switch igniting my energo scythe...

“It is time.” I say. “It’s time for all invaders to learn that the only exit out of my domain is through the Allspark!”

(to be continued)

PART 70

Bluestreak

I’ve got a big sludge-eating grin on my faceplate... Grimlock and his band of Dino-dodos are tearing this place apart! The guards are trying to keep us in line, keep us marching to our deaths... but it’s now or never and everybody knows it.

A bunch of us make a break for it at the same time. The guards open fire and friends start dropping all around me. Most catch it in the back, but for some death comes in an instant. Fastback’s head explodes—taken out by a sniper on the wall. Scrounge is struck down by a slaggin’ bolt of lightning from Primus knows where.

This place is a horror vid come to life. I would transform and roll anywhere but here, but the Energon band wrapped around my upper body prevents that from happening. Fortress Darkmount separates this damned termination camp from the rest of the city. I’ve got zero chance of scaling that wall without the use of my arms—let alone surviving the snipers. I’ve gotta wait... wait until either the Dinobots overthrow Straxus or bring Darkmount down around his audio receptors—whichever comes first.

There’s movement on one of the balconies across from me. I step back into the shadows and pray that the glow of my restraint doesn’t give me away. That’s Straxus up there... but what’s he doing...? He’s climbing up onto the parapet... he’s gonna jump! Grimlock’s right below him... I’ve gotta do something! I’ve seen Straxus cut ‘Bots in half with that Scythe he’s holding.

“Grimlock, look out!”

He can’t hear me. I rush out into the open to warn him. I’m not scared. I’m not a coward.

“Grimlock...! Watch out for Straxus!”

Grimlock moves just in time. Straxus misses and his weapon gets stuck deep in the titania firma. Straxus tries to free it with both hands, but Grimlock doesn’t intend on waiting until he’s ready to fight again. Grimmy chomps down and bites a big piece out of Straxus’ side—Ooo I know that had to hurt! Straxus hauls off and smashes him in the teeth. Fangs fall to the ground like durabyllium daggers. Grim’s mad now... he transforms and shows his true face. Things just got real personal.

Unfortunately, I can’t stick around to watch the fight of the stellar-cycle—i’ve gotta make myself scarce. There’s an explosion at the front gate like multiple det-packs going off at once. Prisoners pour through the hole. A quiet ‘Bot named Punch covers their escape with a really big gun. The way he’s letting that Ion displacer rip... damn! It’s like he’s getting in touch with his inner Decepticon! Almost to the gate... just a little further... don’t know where I’ll go when I get past it, but one things for certain—it’s gonna be far away from here!

An Insecticon jumps into the crowd and lands right in front of me—the thing is hideous... all black and purple with silver wings on it’s back. The crowd is running around us... Punch can’t see me—I’m on my own.

“You saved your friend,” it says. “Only to doom yourself—HI-YAH!”

Oomph! The thing wallops me with a two-legged kick that sends me flying right into the—oh,no...

I hit the pool screaming. My Energon band evaporates to nothing... I try to climb out and I’m shocked that my hands are already glowing bright red. I’m melting! Primus help me—I can feel myself coming apart! Guards above me push Skyfire into the Pool. He falls on top of me—knocking me under the slag. The pain... so intense...!

(to be continued)

PART 71

IACON

Shockwave and Soundwave stand together with an army of Decepticons surrounding the Great Dome. Overhead, the Rainmakers soar, ensuring that the airspace above Cybertron’s capital remains firmly under Decepticon control.
“Attention Shockwave. Polyhex is under attack.” Soundwave informed him. “Additional troops requested.”
“Request denied. The attack on Polyhex is a mere distraction Soundwave, nothing more. Has the next shipment of Energon arrived through the Space Bridge yet?”
“Bitstream received a shipment of two million astro-liters exactly one point five breems ago.”
“Enough to last us a full stellar-cycle. The Autobots under the Great Dome will have drifted into stasis lock due to fuel deprivation long before then, but I would not be adverse to finding more... expeditious ways to achieve our goal. Ideas, Soundwave?”
“Historical records indicate the presence of hidden passageways beneath Iacon.”
Shockwave’s eye flared as if a literal lightbulb had been turned on in his head.
“Ah, yes... the old slave trails. Engineered by the early inhabitants of this city who sought to escape their Quintesson masters. But where do the tunnels terminate? Kalis, perhaps?”
“Unknown. Shall I send Ravage to investigate?”
“My thoughts exactly, Soundwave. You must have read my mind.”

POLYHEX

The guards forcing prisoners into the Smelting Pool abandoned their posts and fled when they saw Swoop approach on another deadly bombing run. The prisoners down in the pool were quickly becoming indiscernible from the ocean of slag swirling within when Swoop spotted Skyfire among their number. To his dismay, the big Decepticon was floating motionless, face down in the pool.
“This bad!” Swoop thought. “If prisoner perish, Dinobots not accomplish mission!”
The Dinobot dive bomber dove down and sunk his talons deep into the fuel tanks on Skyfire’s back. He was well aware that there were still snipers lurking behind the walls of Darkmount, so he decided to call for assistance before lifting his load any more than a few feet above the surface of the pool.
“Paddles! This me, Swoop!” he radioed. “Me have Decepticon! Bring ship!”
“Acknowledged, Sswoop.” Paddles responded. “Valiant inbound.”
Once the ship was directly overhead, Swoop began flapping furiously, but failed to attain anywhere near the altitude required to reach it.
“Ungh! Decepticon... too heavy!” he grunted. “Need help!”
Paddles tried lowering the Valiant further, but the intense heat set off several warning gauges on the vessel’s instrument panel. The ship’s emergency cooling systems kicked in immediately, but after a few astro-seconds, every gauge returned firmly to the red and remained there.
“Engines overheating.” Paddles thought. “If heat bad for ship, how much worse for friend Swoop?”
He had to do something fast. He activated the auto-pilot and ran to the rear of the Valiant. Once there, he opened the bay doors and leaped out—transforming to Elasmosaur-mode as he dove. He landed in the big stadium sized pit of liquefied metal with a splash that showered Swoop with droplets of slag, searing his steel skin.
“Paddles!” Swoop screamed. “What you doing?!”
“Completing misssion!” Paddles hissed.
Swoop noticed his comrade was beginning to leave a trail of silver behind him as he courageously swam towards them. “Nooo, Paddles!” he screamed. “You melting! Change form! Climb back out!”
“No, Sswoop! If Decepticon die, Autobots lose battle on Earth!” Paddles yelled back. “Paddelss must do this!”
The aquatic Dinobot then dove deep into the burning slag, and began using his long neck as a crane to help hoist Skyfire upward to safety. Swoop was shocked when he saw the grisly toll the Pool was taking on his teammate. Much of Paddles’ armor plating was rapidly dissolving away to reveal vital components and even small portions of his skeletal structure. Fuel spurted from several spots on his exposed vertebrae as his servomechanisms first began to stutter, and then fail. A great plume of black smoke rose up as something exploded within his body.
“Paddelss die nowww...” Paddles glitched. “But Paddelss die a hero wo wo...”
Paddles last words sounded similar to a tape being unwound. They were painful for Swoop to listen to. The Dinobot flier transformed and dragged Skyfire onto the Valiant, then he returned to the ship’s doorway to wave farewell to his friend as he disappeared beneath the surface... never to be seen again.



Swoop laid Skyfire’s devastated body down on a slab in the med-center and activated the scanner hanging overhead. In a few astro-seconds Swoop had the answer to his unspoken question—Skyfire was alive. The ship’s computers had registered a spark... two in fact.

(to be continued)

PART 72

There was a crackle of pure explosive energy as Straxus brought his energo scythe down to bear upon Grimlock’s energo sword. The Dinobot Commander broke off the contact by dropping to one knee and swinging his sword in a wide arc that would have split Straxus in two had his opponent been slower to react.
“You’re skilled,” observed Straxus. “I would not have expected that of a savage beast.”
“And you ugly!” Grimlock laughed. “Me surprised you show faceplate in public.”
“Enough barbs!” shouted a flabbergasted Straxus. “Fight!”
Grimlock yielded ground as the enraged Decepticon redoubled his attack, studying his moves. He noticed that Straxus required both hands to use his weapon effectively, while he only needed one. He parried each swing, waited for an opening, and then stunned the villain with a metal mashing elbow to the faceplate. Straxus staggered backward as if drunk, clumsily attempting to use the bladed end of his scythe as a crutch to steady himself. Grimlock moved in for the kill, Straxus changed form and fired. The energy that burst forth from the barrel of his cannon sent Grimlock crashing violently through the wall of a nearby warehouse.
Straxus chuckled as he reassumed robot-mode. “Now that,” he boasted, “was ugly!”
Inside, the leader of the Dinobots lay motionless, chest smoking from the point blank blast that was pushing him to the brink of stasis.
“Grimlock!” a voice crackled on his comm.
“Uhhhh...”
“Grimlock!” the voice cut through the static.
“Uhhhn... Swoop... what you want?”
“Me have Skyfire.”
“Hnnn.”
The words passed through Grimlock’s audio receptors but failed to process. Grimlock’s full attention was focused on the sound of clanking footsteps drawing near. Straxus charged through the hole in wall bellowing Grimlock’s name, his energo scythe sailing over the Dinobot’s head as the object of his hatred quickly assumed alt-mode. Grimlock knocked the Decepticon off his feet with a mighty swing of his tail and then leapt upon him. Prone, and at Grimlock’s mercy, Straxus was forced to wedge a forearm under the robo-reptilian’s throat to keep his snaggle-toothed maw at bay.
“Tables turn,” Grimlock grinned.
“Do they now?” Straxus retorted.
The warlord kept his cool, calmly slipping his arm out from under Grimlock's throat and grabbing his jaws with both hands. Then he began to slowly pry them apart.
“You thought no Decepticon stationed here to be your equal... you were wrong. First, I’m going to snap the jaws on this ridiculous looking beast-head, and then I’m going to reach inside it and crush your cranium case with my bare hands!”
“Wait—AGHK! Decepticon forget old Cybertronian saying!”
“Which is?”
“Never look Dinobot in mouth.”
Grimlock leveled his tongue cannon and blasted Straxus clean between the optics. There was a sound like a large piece of machinery had been powered down, and then the tyrants arms fell heavily to the floor. Grimlock transformed, triumphant.
“Hn. Dumb Decepticon optics black as spark.” Grimlock said, looking over the body. “No way to tell if him still function.”
Grimlock gazed out through the hole in the wall, his weapon glowed in the distance.
“Solution present itself. Me fetch energo sword and erase all doubt.”
“Grimlock!” Swoop called through his comm. “Ship taking damage!” he gasped. “Dinobots leave now or Dinobots never leave!”
“No, Swoop! We no leave without prisoner! That order!”
“But Grimlock... me Swoop report long time ago that me already have prisoner.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so, Swoop? Grimlock to Dinobots—playtime over! We go. Report back to Valiant! Nowww!”

(to be continued)

PART 73

Grimlock was the last one to reach the ship. Slag and Sludge were there at the entrance to provide cover fire for their leader as he boarded, barking orders for someone to “Get this heap into space!” Grimlock seemed to be in good spirits as far as they could tell, even though he sported an angry, still smoldering scorch mark that stretched across the breadth of his golden chest plate. Slag was instantly envious.
“Battle damage,” he nodded approvingly. “Boss Grimlock have fun?”
“Yes, me Grimlock have time of life.” Grimlock grunted. “Where Skyfire?”
“Him this way.” Swoop said, popping out of the med-center. “Skyfire in bad shape. Need repair, or he no survive next solar cycle.”
“Let me see him.”



Skyfire—or what was left of him—lay on his back, bathed in the soothing green glow of a systems stabilizer as the remaining five Dinobots looked on. The silvery blob of cold steel that laid on the slab before them had no faceplate, nor any other defining feature to identify him as the famous explorer who once sailed the spaceways, save for the fuel tanks on his back.
“Swoop. You sure this mech is Skyfire?” asked a skeptical Grimlock.
“Him almost melt down in Smelting Pool,” answered Swoop. “But yes, that Skyfire.”
Sludge pointed to what looked like the head and torso of another Transformer fused to his chest. The extra noggin had no mouth, optics or olfactory sensor to speak of, just the remnants of a tattered chevron upon it’s forehead.
“What that is?” he asked.
“Other prisoner get stuck to him in pool.” Swoop explained. “He alive too.”
“Not for long.” Slag said. He drew his electron blaster and pressed it against the accidental stowaway’s head. “Me terminate him now. Put out of misery.”
“No!” Grimlock said, swatting the weapon away. The gun clattered to the floor and came to rest against Sludge’s foot. Slag looked up as he bent down to retrieve it.
“Why?” he demanded. “You Grimlock no care about saving Autobot spark before!”
“This one different, Slag. He risk own life to warn me of ambush by enemy. He deserve chance to function. Maybe Ratchet can repair him.”
Grimlock lifted his head and called up to the bridge. “Paddles!” he shouted. “Set course for Earth!” After a few seconds of silence, Grimlock was just about to call out to Paddles again when Swoop interrupted him.
“Grimlock, me have bad news.” he said.
“What? What happen Swoop?”
“Paddles die.”
“How!?”
“Paddles jump into Smelting Pool... help hoist prisoner up to ship. Then...” Swoop took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Then Paddles... turn to slag!”
“Hn.” Grimlock grunted. “Ff. Paddles do this so Dinobots can accomplish mission?”
“Yes.”
“Dinobots gather ‘round.” Grimlock beckoned. “Hold hands.”
“No!” protested Snarl. “Me Snarl no want to hold hands!”
“Fine.” Grimlock snorted. “Stay over there in corner by self. Us no really like you anyway.”
Snarl reconsidered his decision for a moment, then he joined the others in forming a circle around Skyfire. Each Dinobot bowed their head as Grimlock began to speak.
“Slag, Sludge, Swoop, Snarl. This solar cycle we lose brother. Paddles never baddest, most powerful Dinobot... but him bravest. Maybe even smartest. Smartest because he know Autobots no really respect us! Autobots say we only good for use as sledge hammer for smashing Decepticon installation! Paddles prove notion wrong. Paddles prove that Dinobots get job done, no matter what mission entail. Paddles die hero... but him live on as legend. Paddles have me Grimlock respect.”
“Paddles have respect of me Slag also.”
“Mine too.” Snarl nodded.
“Mine too too.” added Sludge.
“Me Swoop think Paddles would be happy to hear that.”
“Ironic... yes, Grimlock?” inquired Slag.
“Ironic? How so, Slag?” grumbled Grimlock.
“We shoot this Decepticon down over Earth planet long ago, now we lose one of own to save him.”
“Yes,” Grimlock replied. “Me forget all about that mission. Skyfire was pilot of ship Prime order us to destroy to prevent Decepticon expansion across universe. Vorns later, Prime order us to rescue same Decepticon. Paddles die carrying out Prime’s orders.”
“Maybe Prime not fit to give Dinobots orders,” suggested Slag.
“Hn. Maybe not. Me Grimlock discuss this with him when Dinobots reach destination.”



Straxus lay on a slab in Darkmount leaking Energon as the three Insecticons, Shrapnel, Kickback and Bombshell discussed what to do with him.
“I say we fix him,” Kickback insisted. “I’m sure he’ll give us a reward if we do.”
“Rewards from Straxus Straxus?” laughed Shrapnel. “You must be joking joking.”
“Yeah. Straxus is too stingy to give us anything,” stated Bombshell, as a matter of fact. “If I fix this rounded tub of rust, all he’s likely to give us is more orders.”
“Well, let’s leave this place then.” Kickback suggested. “I heard there’s a big party in Iacon. Plenty of Energon to go around!”
“Sounds good to me me.” Shrapnel grinned, greedily rubbing his hands together. “Bombshell shell?”
“I’m in.” Bombshell replied.
“It’s settled then,” said Kickback. The energetic Insecticon broke into a short run and then punted Straxus off the table—“HI-YAH!”—sending his former lord’s stasis locked form crashing into a nearby monitor screen. The bold move elicited much laughter from his comrades as the trio bolted for the door. Suddenly, Bombshell doubled back and pointed to a ‘Bot standing silently in a far off corner of the room.
“I almost forgot about you! Come slave,” he commanded. “We leave for your home city of Iacon!”
Obediently, Cliffjumper stepped forward. The Autobot’s optics were lit bright blue, but they were also blank as if he were staring into nothingness.
“You see this one?” snickered Bombshell. “He had a lot to say before I implanted him with one of my cerebro shells... now he’ll only say what I tell him to. Isn’t that right, slave?”
“Yes, master.” Cliffjumper replied.

(to be continued)

PART 74

Punch

One breem ago I was blasting away Decepti-creeps with an ion displacer cannon like the greatest gunner who ever lived... but now? Now I’m speeding down the steamy side streets of lower Polyhex just trying to stay functional.

I held the gates at Darkmount for as long as I could. I covered the escapes of dozens of prisoners being held there. Took over ten rounds doing it, too. I’m leaking energon and spewing exhaust. My engine’s skipping... the harder I push, the more damage I cause to myself. Gotta take a break so my self-repair systems can at least try to fix some of my injuries. There’s no place to hide. I’ve got three angry ‘Cons on my tail—all rollers, no Seekers. That’s good. Because if there was someone up there in the sky, what I’m about to do now wouldn’t work.

I make a sharp left into a dead-end alleyway and transform to robot-mode—my other robot-mode—the Decepticon guard known as Counterpunch. My “fellow Decepticons” arrive a nano-klik after I complete the transformation. I pretend to shrink before the glare of their blinding headlights. What I’m actually doing is buying a little time to assess the situation.

Alright, we’ve got one Constructicon-sized brute in the form of a spiky steamroller being led by two Watchdog units. No slaggin’ way was I gonna lose these three in my current condition. The ‘Cons are confused—but suspicious. Good thing I used to be an actor before the war. But the funny thing is... I became a much better actor DURING the war. I hold my side and limp towards them. The pain is real, but the words that fall out of my mouth are false.

“Autobot cloaker! He shot me!”
“Uhh… which way did he go?” asks the brute.
I point them back in the direction they came. “That way, you idiots!”

They fall for it! How could they not? My Decepticon voice is so convincing! I slump against a wall and let my self-repair systems do their job. Might as well check in while I wait.

“Agent code-named “Double Spy” to Goldbug.”
“This is Goldbug, go ahead agent Double Spy.”
“The Dinobots have Skyfire. Unit has departed with him less than two breems ago via spaceship. Over.”
“Copy that, Double Spy. Move onward to the Tagan Heights sector for repairs and redeployment. Your new contacts are waiting for you inside factory A-3-85.”
“Copy. Double Spy out.”

(to be continued)

PART 75

Punch. Tagan Heights.

It’s dawn by the time I reach the Heights. Factory A-3-85 is the biggest one in the sector, making it easy to find. A security sensor over the entrance scans my badge and gives me the green light. Alpha Trion raises the gate just enough for me to duck under it.

“Quickly! Quickly!” the elder says in a hushed voice. “Our enemies have optics everywhere.”

Ultra Magnus stands behind him, gun at the ready—paranoia kicks in—Is this an execution!? Did I just drive to my own death? I’ve done a lot of things as Counterpunch that the rank and file can't know about. Maybe High Command decided it’s high time to cover their tracks and they’ve sent one of their own to do the deed? I’ve only got the twin mortar launcher available to me as Punch... Counterpunch's photon cannon would be much better at this range. I shoulda took the upgrade that would've enabled me to use both when I had the chance. I'm ready to pop the panel on my thigh compartment and draw my weapon.

“Were you followed, Punch?” asks Magnus.
“N-no, Sir!”

Calm washes over me—get a grip, Punch! Ultra Magnus and Alpha Trion aren’t here to terminate me—they’re running a salvage operation. I stand there feeling like a fool... staring at the soles of two gigantic feet that are at least two stories tall. They belong to the guardian, Omega Supreme. The titan lay on his back encased in scaffolding. Ultra Magnus follows the gaze of my optic sensors.

“We always knew Omega Supreme lay trapped under the ruins after the Constructicons demolished Crystal City, but we had no way of getting him out... until now.”

A ‘Bot rolls by with what looks like a section of Omega’s shin strapped to his truck bed.

“With the Decepticons focusing so much attention on Iacon, we were finally able to revisit that problem. Landfill has been bringing him out piece by piece. Alpha Trion and his crew of engineers are almost finished reassembling him.”

Grapple waves down from the scaffolding bridge surrounding Omega. I wave back. Nice to see a friendly face.

“Yes, yes, we are making great strides here.” nods Alpha Trion. “Why, just this past solar cycle we’ve succeeded in establishing a connection to Vector Sigma and constructed a new Autobot.”
“You’ve created someone?” I ask incredulously. “Here? Can I see him?”

I’m eager to see new life after witnessing so much death at the Smelting Pool. One would think that Alpha Trion would be just as eager to show off his creation, but somehow I get the feeling that he’s not.

Together we walk into a room that serves as his personal laboratory. Trion slides the door back to reveal the brand new Autobot. I take a moment to study him. Red paint job... spoiler on his back, flames on his chest—Wow! It’s like either this ‘Bot is predestined to be the kind of ‘Bot that other ‘Bots rally around—or a real jerk. Trion says the kid’s name is Hot Rod. I extend a hand. Hot Rod mumbles something in return.

“What’s wrong with ‘im? Personality glitch?”
Alpha Trion’s voice wavers a little as he begins to speak. “I wish it were that simple, Punch. I fear that Vector Sigma has run out of fresh sparks.”
“Fresh sparks...?”
“Listen closely to what young Hot Rod is saying and tell me what you think.”

I do. And what comes out of his mouth sends a chill up my spinal assembly. He whispers—“lose something ‘o mighty Megatron? Yes... I see that you’ve found it, Starscream.” Followed by—“Finish him!”

“Trion...! What in Unicron’s name-!?”
“He is repeating the last words that he heard before his termination. I suspect that in a past life he was executed by Starscream... on orders from Megatron himself.”
“Who was he?”
“I have no idea...”
“Did you check his cerebrals? Maybe he’s got a few wires crossed?”
“I’ve checked and rechecked.”
“So what are you going to do...?”

Alpha Trion puts his hand on my shoulder.

“That’s where you come in, Punch. As soon as you are repaired, I want you to travel to Moonbase Two. There, you will deliver young Hot Rod to Kup to be trained under his tutelage. In time, perhaps he may be able to overcome the trauma that he experienced in his past life.”

(to be continued)