CHAPTER THREE
--The Lost Light, Brainstorm's workshop--
Riptide cursed to himself out of surprise as he picked up a cylindrical container from a table in the workshop. Floating in a sickly green liquid was a multi-legged, grotesque, organic thing which moved in a way that made the Hydrobot shiver.
"Where in the Pit does Brainstorm find this kind of stuff?"
"He used to visit other planets a lot before the war," said Glyph. "I would go to him to examine the specimens he'd found on Nebulos and Varas Centralus. Really interesting stuff."
"No accounting for taste," Riptide muttered. "So, find anything yet?"
"Just some guns, grenades, more guns, a switch thing, even more guns, and-- oh, my...."
"Don't tell me: more guns."
"No, it's...." She bent behind a table for a moment and reemerged with a briefcase in hand. "It's this."
Riptide's optics widened. "His briefcase? But he never let's that thing out of his sight! You've seen it handcuffed to his hand!"
"I know. And I have. But that's not the only odd thing." She beckoned Riptide over to where she had found the briefcase. The Hydrobot walked over to the table and looked down, his mouth falling open in surprise. What he saw was an entire cache of briefcases.
"I'll go get Red Alert," he murmured. "He's gonna want to see this."
--The bridge--
"Transwarp jump successful," Perceptor reported from his station. "We have arrived in Earth year 2815."
"Awesome," Rodimus said. "Never thought I'd be going to the future in this quest. How long before we reach Earth."
"According to the scanner, we're already there."
Rodimus frowned. "You sure? 'Cause I don't see it."
Indeed, all that could be seen through the ship's viewport was the infinite star-dotted plain of space, with a solitary moon floating in the distance.
Perceptor rubbed his chin. "That's odd. Not only is the scanner telling me that Earth is-- or rather should be there when it clearly is not... but that moon should not be there without a planet to orbit. It's scientifically impossible."
Rodimus tapped his helmet crest. "Mainframe, zoom in on it."
The systems analyst brought up a closer visual of the moon on the viewscreen. Those gathered on the bridge studied it for a moment until Ultra Magnus spoke.
"Those look like spikes jutting out from the surface."
"And I'm pretty sure moon dust isn't supposed to look that shiny," Drift noted. "In fact, I daresay that's metal."
"And it's way too big to be Earth's moon," Rodimus murmured.
"In other words," Skids said, "it's not just any moon. It's our moon. The one we lost."
"You lost a moon?!" WALL-E exclaimed.
"In the ancient past, yes," Drift said. "Long before even the Thirteen Primes were believed to have reigned. Many have sought it out but none were ever successful."
"Until us, of course," Rodimus said. "Perceptor, are you getting any readings?"
"Yes, but...." The scientist was slowly shaking his head in disbelief. "They can't be right. Luna 1 is clearly deserted, and yet...."
"Yet what?"
"It's supposedly home to one billion people."
--Cybertron, the Cog--
"Council in session."
Twelve beings, nearly identical in design and build save for color scheme, sat around a cog-shaped table. Siting at the head of the table, the Convener of the Functionist Council formed a tent with his hands.
"First item of the agenda: the members of the 113th Division of the Primal Vanguard have returned to Cybertron. As per the minutes of our last meeting, it was decreed that the Vanguard was to be dissolved upon their return from their last mission, and that its members would be made the subjects of our total surveillance project. Ten-of-Twelve, you promised us an update on this operation."
"The pilot is a success, One-of-Twelve," said the Evaluator of the Council. "The Functionaries are already processing their first wave of intelligence. The second stage of the Rollout is underway as we speak."
"Excellent," One-of-Twelve said. "Now then, item two: the role of data-slugs within the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy. Six-of-Twelve?"
"The theoconomists remain divided on the subject," said the Enactor of the Council. "Some insist that a strict reading of the G.C.T. suggests that the data-slugs still retain functional value, while others stand by the fact that their ability to store information in their databanks-- information that could be used against us-- may prove a threat to our ability to govern."
One-of-Twelve's single optic glowed. "As takes precedence, we are beholden to intervene when the social stock market fails to deliver the desired outcome. The minutes of this meeting will show that, on this day, the Council decreed data-slugs as obsolete and would be recalled forthwith. Council dismissed."
--The Lost Light, Shuttle Bay 1--
"All right, change of plans," Rodimus said as he led his team-- which consisted of Skids, Chromedome, Perceptor, Nautica, Nightbeat, and WALL-E-- to the shuttle bay. "Drift and I will lead two separate teams to Luna 1. We'll explore the planet, find out where the life signs are coming from, and why it's been missing for so long. Oh, and find out where Earth went off to. That's important, too."
"And what if we don't find anything?" Nautica asked. "What is Luna 1 is just a boring old moon that decided to just float away?"
"Then at least I get to check off another one of my top three mysteries," Nightbeat said. "Number one was the Ark, two is Luna 1, three is--"
"Wait, aren't we taking the Leading Light?" Chromedome asked as Rodimus led them pass the Lost Light's primary shuttle.
"Drift's taking that one," Rodimus said, a grin forming on his face. "We're taking my new personalized ship."
Nautica looked baffled. "Since when did you have a--"
Before she could finish her sentence, one of the bay doors slid open and all six of Rodimus' teammates bore witness to a large, spherical shuttlecraft made in the likeness of Rodimus' face; orange flames and all.
While the others gawked in silence, Nightbeat shook his head. "Personalized doesn't begin to describe it...."
--Cybertron--
Minimus sped through the streets of Iacon, surrounded by horror. He had been on his way to meet with his former teammates when all of a sudden, data-slugs began dropping dead to the ground, their heads exploding. His mind immediately went to Rewind and he was on his way back to Dominus' residence, not waiting for EVE to follow him.
By the time he had reached the apartment, Rewind-- much to Minimus' relief-- was still functioning, rushing out to meet him.
"Minimus! Thank Primus-- it's Dom! The Functionists have done something to him!"
"I'm afraid he's not the only one," Minimus said as he converted to robot mode. He rushed inside with Rewind and found Dominus sitting dejectedly against a wall, his monitor face blank.
"Brother?" Minimus said quietly. "Are you all right?"
<Error. Please repeat,> was all that appeared.
"They took his words," Rewind murmured. "His vocabulary. All he has left now are the basics: yes, no, up, down... and the words he's lost...." His voice suddenly became softer than a whisper. "There are some words you can't afford to lose, Minimus."
Minimus rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Rewind. We'll... we'll do something. We'll continue where Dominus left off."
<Not if you value the perfect shape.>
Minimus and Rewind both looked in surprise at the text that had suddenly typed itself on Dominus' screen.
"That's... that's not Dom," Rewind said. "Who... who could be sending that?"
"It must be the Functionists," Minimus said. "But how do they know we're here?"
<You have proven your worth, Minimus Ambus. It was through the cameras we had installed into your optics that we discovered your spark-brother's dissidence. Now he shall forever be silent so as to not disrupt the peace.>
"But you can't silence me," Rewind said defiantly, stepping up to the screen. "I'll find a way to stop you. I'll find a way to end the slavery, the flatheads, and the occupational genocide. And you can forget about getting rid of me; Dominus had my obsolescence chip disabled, so there's no way you can reach me."
<Oh? What about the backup?>
Rewind's visor widened. "The what...?"
Before anything could be done, Rewind suddenly fell into Dominus' arms, screaming in pain as the back of his head began to smoke. Minimus had no time to react before his friend's head exploded before his eyes-- and no doubt those of the Functionists.
<This is what happens when you act against us. You would do well to keep that in mind in the future.>
With that, Dominus' screen went blank once again-- perhaps forever. As the silenced philosopher cradled the body of his sparkmate, Minimus looked away. After all, it was the least he could do to not give the Functionists the satisfaction of seeing what their genocide had accomplished.
"That's... that's not Dom," Rewind said. "Who... who could be sending that?"
"It must be the Functionists," Minimus said. "But how do they know we're here?"
<You have proven your worth, Minimus Ambus. It was through the cameras we had installed into your optics that we discovered your spark-brother's dissidence. Now he shall forever be silent so as to not disrupt the peace.>
"But you can't silence me," Rewind said defiantly, stepping up to the screen. "I'll find a way to stop you. I'll find a way to end the slavery, the flatheads, and the occupational genocide. And you can forget about getting rid of me; Dominus had my obsolescence chip disabled, so there's no way you can reach me."
<Oh? What about the backup?>
Rewind's visor widened. "The what...?"
Before anything could be done, Rewind suddenly fell into Dominus' arms, screaming in pain as the back of his head began to smoke. Minimus had no time to react before his friend's head exploded before his eyes-- and no doubt those of the Functionists.
<This is what happens when you act against us. You would do well to keep that in mind in the future.>
With that, Dominus' screen went blank once again-- perhaps forever. As the silenced philosopher cradled the body of his sparkmate, Minimus looked away. After all, it was the least he could do to not give the Functionists the satisfaction of seeing what their genocide had accomplished.
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