Thursday, April 23, 2026

Transformers Tsunami: Issue 2

 Date: 3/11/2015

ROLL OUT (PART 2)

Prologue

(Cybertron, before the war)

ZETA PRIME: Is this a wise move, brother? I mean, I would never wish to question your wisdom, but to shatter the AllSpark and spread its shards across the universe? Wouldn't that be more risky than to leave it intact?

NOVA PRIME: I understand your concern, Zeta. But the risk of the AllSpark falling into Megatron's hands is far greater than anything. Trust me... this is what must be done.

Present day

(Earth. Skyquake and Fracture are blowing stuff up)

SKYQUAKE: Ha! Ha! Yes, run, fleshings! No one can stop us!

ARMORHIDE: Mind if I test that theory? (He punches Skyquake)

SKYQUAKE: Hn. Autobots. Come to ruin the fun, have you? In that case... allow me to return the favor.

OPTIMUS PRIME: Boy, 'Cons sure do suck at comebacks.

RATCHET: Aren't you going to join in the fight?

OPTIMUS PRIME: No way, man. They've got it handled. Besides, I'm waiting for the Big Gun to show up.

RATCHET: "Big Gun?"

OPTIMUS PRIME: Duh. Shockwave.

RATCHET: Well, that's still no excuse to-- (He gets knocked down by Fracture's stomp)

OPTIMUS PRIME: So, yeah, let me know when Shockwave shows up. Bye!

(Elsewhere)

THRUST: Skyquake, what's takin' so long?

SKYQUAKE: (on screen) The Autobots are here, Thrust. They're... proving to be a bit of a nuisance.

THRUST: Huh, that was quick of 'em. What do ya suppose we do, Shockwave?

SHOCKWAVE: The answer is simple, Thrust. We deal with the nuisance. Then... we'll be free to accomplish our mission!

(Military base)

ARMORHIDE: WAAAH! OOF! Always the splits. 'Bee! Heads up!

(A grenade blows up by Bumblebee, then Fracture wallops him)

FRACTURE: Ha! This is almost too easy, Skyquake!

SKYQUAKE: I'll say.

RATCHET: Let's see if you're still laughing when I'm through with you! (Skyquake blasts him with his cannon) ARGH!

FRACTURE: You do the honors, Skyquake.

SKYQUAKE: No, no. Ladies first.

RATCHET: Optimus? Come on! We're getting pounded over here! We need your help! Optimus? Optimus, do you read me? Optimus!

SFX: CHOOM!

SKYQUAKE: Aggh!

RATCHET: Optimus?!

OPTIMUS PRIME: You're lucky I had finished my book.

SKYQUAKE: Ha! What's one more Autobot in a fight like this?

OPTIMUS PRIME: Well, here's the thing, Skyquake. This particular Autobot... is Optimus frikkin' Prime. YAAAARGH!

(He goes nuts and kicks their butts)

ARCEE: You know, for a lazy jerk, he sure knows how to fight.

OPTIMUS PRIME: Hey, you don't get to be commander of a team if you don't know how to-- (He gets shot in the back by Shockwave) Shoulda... kept my mouth shut...

RATCHET: Shockwave!

SHOCKWAVE: I admire your resolve, but I'm afraid it won't do you any good.

DEAD END: Hands where I can see 'em.

SHOCKWAVE: I will admit, Prime: when I heard you were on Earth, I nearly panicked. Not necessarily because of stories of you, but those of your brothers. For over a century have the Primes been feared by many a Decepticon. But you? You are a disgrace to their name. Never before have I seen such a pathetic commander. You leave your teammates to die. You send them in without caring about consequences. Even I give some thought to followers, for all of their hard work.

DEAD END: Lies.

SHOCKWAVE: Silence, Dead End. But you? None at all. So tell me, if I kill you now, in front of your crew... do you think they will miss you?

OPTIMUS PRIME: Probably not. But I'll miss them. Ratchet and his crankiness... Arcee and her attitude... Bumblebee and his quietness... Armorhide and his loud music...

ARMORHIDE: Gosh!

OPTIMUS PRIME: Wheelie and his rescue attempts...

SHOCKWAVE: All very touching, but-- wait. Rescue attempts?

(Wheelie flies in with the Autobot ship)

SHOCKWAVE: Oh slag.

DEAD END: I'm outta here!

FRACTURE: Coward!

SHOCKWAVE: No, Fracture, I believe Dead End's strategy is indeed wise. Decepticons, retreat!

OPTIMUS PRIME: Ha! That sure showed 'em. ...Ratchet, there's a hole in my back. Fix it.

RATCHET: Um, right.

ARMORHIDE: Nice save, Wheelie! How did you know we were in trouble?

WHEELIE: I didn't. Optimus left the autopilot on.

OPTIMUS PRIME: Eh-heh-heh....

(Shockwave's hideout)

DEAD END: Well, now what do we do?! If the Autobots aren't afraid to use the frikkin' spaceship in battle, what chance do we have?

SHOCKWAVE: It would appear I need to accelerate my plans.

SKYQUAKE: What do you mean, my lord?

SHOCKWAVE: On this planet is the AllSpark. Or rather, its fragments. That is what brought me to Earth. My plan was to find Energon to repair the ship we crashed in before tracking the AllSpark shards with it. But it would appear we must approach things differently. We must split up to scour the planet for the shards. That way, the Autobots cannot take us on at once. I refuse to accept failure. Now go... find my shards!

(The Orion)

OPTIMUS PRIME: I'm sorry.

RATCHET: For what?

OPTIMUS PRIME: For being a jerk. I was inconsiderate, taking you for granted. You're only on this ship because I recruited you, not because you volunteered. Shockwave was right. You probably wouldn't miss me. But I still meant what I said. For the most part.

RATCHET: Well, you still have time to make up for your negligence. Only you can prove Shockwave right or wrong.

OPTIMUS PRIME: You're right! It's time to prove that I'm a great leader!

(Cut to him watching TV)

OPTIMUS PRIME: Ha! Ha! He hit his head on a coconut!

RATCHET: Don't get ahead of yourself.

FIN

CHARACTERS

    Autobots: Arcee, Armorhide, Bumblebee, Nova Prime (flashbacks), Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Wheelie, Zeta Prime (flashbacks)

    Decepticons: Dead End, Flatline, Fracture, Shockwave, Skyquake, Thrust

Wednesday, April 22, 2026

Transformers Tsunami: Issue 1

 A short-lived comic I wrote while making Regenerated. Only made 4 issues.

Date: 3/10/2015

ROLL OUT (PART I)

THE STORY

    The Hundred Year War between the Autobots and the Decepticons has ended. The Decepticons have gone into exile while the Autobots remain in control of Cybertron. Fifty years later, rogue Decepticon units who are against the peace have been detected across the galaxy. In response, the Autobots have established Tsunami Station, a network of Autobot teams who hunt down these Decepticons. Now one such rogue unit has been found on Earth, long-time ally of Cybertron, and they just may prove the most dangerous of all.

--

CAPTION: Tsunami Station

(A hand presses a button on a desk)

SFX: Beep

ZETA PRIME: Optimus?

(Optimus is sitting in a waiting room, reading)

ZETA PRIME: Optimus?

OPTIMUS PRIME: Come on! I only have like, five pages left!

ZETA PRIME: OPTIMUS!

OPTIMUS PRIME: Ugh, fine. (He enters the room) 'Sup, bro?

ZETA PRIME: Take a seat.

OPTIMUS PRIME: You sure there isn't a whoopee cushion?

ZETA PRIME: Just sit down.

OPTIMUS PRIME: So, what's hangin'?

ZETA PRIME: This is urgent, Optimus. Shockwave's been on Earth.

OPTIMUS PRIME: Shockwave?

ZETA PRIME: Megatron's chief scientist. Former chief scientist, it would appear. Reports say that he has at least five ex-prisoners under his command:

    Dead End, rumored vampire and former Stunticon;

    Skyquake, veteran Seeker and feared Air General;

    Fracture, wanted for destroying five cities;

    Flatline, 'nuff said;

    and Thrust, rumored ex-Seeker.

    We don't know why Shockwave is on Earth, but since the planet is under your jurisdiction, you must stop him.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Okay, cool.

    ZETA PRIME: ...You leave now.

    (Hangar Bay)

    ARCEE: Knock knock.

    ARMORHIDE: Who's there?

    ARCEE: Knock knock.

    ARMORHIDE: Who's there?

    ARCEE: Knock knock.

    ARMORHIDE: WHO'S THERE?!

    ARCEE: Just making sure your audio receptors are working!

    (SFX as they duke it out)

    RATCHET: Arcee messing with Armorhide again?

    WHEELIE: Yup.

    RATCHET: Primus, why did Optimus recruit such children for a team like this?! Then again, he's no more mature than they are.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Hi, Armorhide. Hi, Arcee. Hi, Bumblebee. See you on the ship. Hi, WALL-E.

    WHEELIE: Wheelie.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Hey, Ratchet. Why the long face - longer than usual, that is?

    RATCHET: How can you call yourself a leader? You recruit two cadets who always fight - and you let them fight - a traumatized mute, a cranky medic, and a sarcastic Mini-Con... and you expect us to work together seamlessly. Why?

    OPTIMUS PRIME: 'Cos I'm Optimus Prime. Now get the ship up and running.

    RATCHET: Same rant for six months, same answer...

    (Meanwhile, on Earth. Dead End drives recklessly through streets while blasting music from his radio)

    TRUCK DRIVER: Watch it, ya' free load!

    (Dead End drives down an alleyway and transforms)

    DEAD END: Thrust? It's me.

    THRUST: No need to tell me. I could tell just from that emo punk trash you were playing.

    DEAD END: So this is our new hiding grounds? A junkyard?

    THRUST: Hey, it has its uses.

    DEAD END: Enlighten me.

    THRUST: Oh, you know. Contraptions, weapons of mass destruction, the works.

    DEAD END: Ha! As if anyone could make a doomsday device out of this scrap!

    SHOCKWAVE: You'd be surprised, Dead End. I have learned that humans can be quite resourceful.

    DEAD END: Give me a break. These fleshlings are more primitive than Nebulans.

    SHOCKWAVE: Maybe so, but they still have their uses. Now then... what have you to report?

    DEAD END: Well, there's this military bas towards the east with high energon readings. Might be worth looking into.

    SHOCKWAVE: Excellent. Fracture, Skyquake, take what we need from there!

    SKYQUAKE: At once, Lord Shockwave!

    (The two of them leave)

    DEAD END: "Lord" Shockwave?!

    THRUST: I keep tellin' ya, he's insane.

    (Space, the Autobot ship is en route to Earth)

    MUSIC: I was born on Luna 2~!

    RATCHET: Armorhide, what did I just tell you?!

    ARMORHIDE: Aw, c'mon! I'm getting bored out of my mainframe, here!

    RATCHET: I. Don't. Care! Is it too much to ask for some peace and quiet?

    ARMORHIDE: Well, maybe if you had let me get those new fancy headphones, you would get your peace and quiet!

    RATCHET: Those cost 500 Shanix! Just use your internal radio!

    ARMORHIDE: I told you it's free! Not everyone has an intact--

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Hey! I'm trying to read here! Shut your pot holes!

    (Beat)

    RATCHET: ...Umm, we're approaching Earth.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Mm-hmm.

    RATCHET: We're landing.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Okey-dokey.

    RATCHET: We're all set to go.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Got it.

    RATCHET: ...Megatron's my uncle.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: M'kay.

    RATCHET: You're not listening to me, are you?

    GENERAL FREEMAN: Optimus Prime!

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Oh slag, it's shorty!

    GENERAL FREEMAN: You've got here in the nick of time! Reports are coming in that one of our bases is under attack!

    RATCHET: Decepticons?

    GENERAL FREEMAN: Most likely.

    OPTIMUS PRIME: Finally! Some action! Autobots, load up your weapons (unless you've got swords)! It's time to kick some tailpipe!

    (Military Base)

    GUARD #1: I wish something exciting would happen!

    SFX: FWOOSH!

    SKYQUAKE: Tremble, fleshings! This base now belongs to the Decepticons!

    GUARD #2: And you say I have a big mouth!

    TO BE CONTINUED

CHARACTERS

    Autobots: Arcee, Armorhide, Bumblebee, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Wheelie, Zeta Prime

    Decepticons: Dead End, Flatline, Fracture, Shockwave, Skyquake, Thrust

    Humans: General Freeman

Sunday, April 19, 2026

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination IV, Chapter Three

THREE: ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAR FACES

 The Nemesis

Megatron slammed his fists down on the meeting room table, bringing enough force to make the entire conference room tremble ever so slightly.

“How?! How could you have let them beat you?! You told me Bruticus was the strongest of the combiners at our disposal!”

“The strategy needed further refinement,” Onslaught retorted, standing proud and tall at the other end of the table, acting as if he had not just suffered an embarrassing defeat. “We needed time to perfect the Bruticus combination in order to balance my cunning with the chaotic personalities of the others. Ultimately, it was Brawl’s rage that proved our undoing—”

“No,” Megatron sneered. “It was your arrogant bravado that proved your undoing. You think so highly of yourself when your tactics and strategies have failed to win us the war after over a thousand years!”

Onslaught stiffened at the barb, his shoulders straightening. “I beg your pardon, Lord Megatron, but it is because of my strategies that the Decepticon Empire is still standing as it is! If it were not for me, then your army would have fallen apart centuries ago! If not during your absence on Earth, then certainly after what befell us at Simanzi and other such battlefields!”

Megatron raised his right arm at the Combaticon leader, making a point to brandish his arm-mounted fusion cannon. “It is only because of your ability to form Bruticus that I do no obliterate you and your soldiers here and now. Return to your quarters and await further orders; perhaps you can put that over-programmed processor of yours to good use by helping us track down Medusa and Bruton after you let them escape.”

Onslaught could only nod stiffly as he saluted his leader before turning sharply on his heel and departing from the room. After he was gone, only Megatron and Starscream remained in the room. Back in the good old days, the likes of Shockwave, Soundwave, and Clench would have been present in the room with them. But they were all either dead or had deserted. Now, it was just them.

And Starscream wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Perhaps we need to reassess our strategy,” Starscream said quietly, stepping around the table until he was standing where Onslaught had been, directly facing Megatron. “The Destructons are clearly expecting us to strike at worlds where we suspect them to be. Medusa was already ready for us on Cresta Superior and knew how to deal with Bruticus and the Mini-Cons. Bruton was even waiting with her. They know what our next move is.”

Megatron clenched his fists over the table, his red optics glowering at his lieutenant. “What would you suggest we do, then?”

Starscream feigned an expression of ponderment. “We need to lull them into a false sense of security. Make them think they know what our next move is when in fact we are going to do the exact opposite. We can send some drones and Genericons to some of the worlds we already have planned targeted to make them think we’re going to strike there next, but it’s really just to distract them while we focus on other things.”

“What other things?” Megatron snarled, impatience clear on his face.

“For one thing, we still need to bolster our forces. Trypticon can only produce so many sparks to bring back some of the dead, so we should seek out any straggler cells that haven’t reunited with our main forces. For example, Clench from what I understand is still commanding a splinter faction within the vicinity of the Eshems Nebula. Years ago, during your… absence, the DJD had been dispatched to eliminate him but were forced to withdraw when they found an Autobot mole within their ranks. I don’t believe they ever finished the job.”

Megatron’s expression changed somewhat as he seemed to consider the thought. “Clench will definitely resist my authority, as he has from the beginning,” he murmured. “But I am so much powerful than from when we last met. He will not be a challenge.”

Starscream smirked. “Indeed. And regardless of whether he submits or dies, his charges will gladly pledge their loyalty to you.”

“I have no doubt about that.” After another moment of silent thought, Megatron relaxed his fists and leaned away from the table. “Very well. We shall change course to the Eshems Nebula. I will leave it to you to dispatch the recon teams to the necessary planets in order to keep the Destructons off our trail.”

Starscream’s smirk broadened into a wider grin. “It pleases me so much to know you hold me in your trust, Lord Megatron. I swear to you, my liege, that I will not fail you.”

With a theatrical bow, he turned and made his own departure from the room. As the doors closed behind him, he allowed himself a small chuckle under his breath. He is becoming like melted energon in my hands. Whatever that new body of his is doing to him is clearly driving him mad… which suits me all the more.

*  *  *

“Why do you trust him?”

Megatron jolted out of his reverie at the familiar voice. He swung to point his fusion cannon at the shadows, aiming at the singular optical sensor glowing from within the darkness.

“You are not real,” he muttered. “You’re dead.”

“Were you starting to convince yourself otherwise?” The specter of Shockwave emerged from the shadows, slowly pacing around Megatron. “Logic dictates that I am not real; I am merely a projection of your inner thoughts made manifest by your processor.”

“I have no use for ghosts,” Megatron growled. “You will not make a madman out of me!”

The illusion of Shockwave ignored his words as it continued to speak. “There is no reason for you to trust Starscream. He has taken multiple opportunities to cross you or usurp leadership from you in the past. Why now do you trust him with information that three years ago you would have withheld from him?”

“He knows his place now,” Megatron replied. “He knows what I am capable of in this new body and that I would annihilate him without a second thought should he ever try to double-cross me again.”

“You sound so certain.” Shockwave tilted his head. “And yet, you did not trust me enough to allow me full control over my functions. You kept me as a disembodied head at the side of your throne.”

“Your experiments with time and space made you a far more dangerous threat to my power than anything Starscream has done.”

“And yet, by allowing him to walk free and even give him full access to Soundwave’s databanks, you are giving him a weapon that is even more dangerous.”

Megatron sneered. “And that would be?”

“Information. Knowledge. He now knows things he never has before. Things that he can use against you.”

“He wouldn’t dare try. Besides, he knows I have knowledge I can use against him as well.”

The image of Shockwave shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps the Starscream you see now is not the same one that was once cowed by you all those centuries ago.”

Megatron blinked and in an instant, the room around him had changed. He was no longer aboard the Nemesis but instead on the science station where he had first met Starscream. His silver armor plating was smooth and clean, not yet marred and pitted by centuries of war, and the fusion cannon adorning his arm felt slightly heavier back then than it did now.

He was storming through the hallways, striding past the confused and awed gazes of the various Seekers crewing the station. Hushed whispers broke out among them, and he felt his spark swell with pride. They respected him. They admired him.

They feared him.

Respect and admiration, he was used to. But fear? That was something different; something more raw than the other two… and more empowering.

He burst onto the main observation deck, shoving aside two guards who thought twice about stopping him when they saw the large cannon strapped to his arm. At the far end of the room, standing with his arms behind his back as he peered out the window and gazed at the silvery gleam of Cybertron below, was a Seeker in white, blue and red. Upon hearing the commotion, he slowly turned around, maintaining his controlled stance as his gaze fell upon the intruder.

“I’m sorry,” Starscream started to say, “but I don’t believe you have the proper—”

“I do not require proper authorization.” Megatron came to a stop within several feet from Starscream, maintaining just enough distance—not too close and not too far—to leave the Seeker feeling conflicted on whether he should be scared or assured. “I go as I please.”

Starscream scoffed as he began to pace. “And just who do you think you are, coming onto my scientific research platform without any sort of authorization?”

“My name is one you will learn soon enough. All that you must know now is that I come here on the behalf of Lord Trannis.” It took a remarkable amount of self-control for Megatron to not scowl as he spoke the name of his predecessor-to-be.

Starscream continued to regard Megatron warily, looking conflicted on whether or not to listen to him. After taking another furtive glance at the fusion cannon on his arm, the Seeker’s shoulders sagged slightly, as if accepting defeat. 

“Trannis, you say,” Starscream said, trying to sound casual in order to mask his growing anxiety. “I had thought he and his followers had been exiled.”

“You must not pay much attention to the news then. The Decepticons have been making their reemergence public for quite some time now.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard all of the rumors and seen all of the reports. The attempt on Sentinel Prime’s life certainly wasn’t something you could just ignore.” Starscream frowned. “What is it that they want from us?”

Before Megatron answered him, his eyes flickered to the two guards that were watching warily from the sidelines.

“May we have the room?”

The guards exchanged uneasy looks before looking to Starscream. The Air Commander let out a sigh before motioning them to the door.

“Leave us. I’m sure our friend here means us no harm.”

With a small bit of reluctance—yet eager to get as far away from Megatron as possible—the two Seeker guards vacated the room, leaving Megatron alone with Starscream. The Seeker turned his back again to Megatron, staring out the window that oversaw the silvery world of Cybertron.

“Say your piece, then.”

Megatron smiled to himself. “The attempt on Sentinel Prime’s life was only the beginning of what is to come, Air Commander. For the past millennium we have been preparing our forces to take back what is rightfully ours. The Decepticons have learned much from the failures of the Great War, and unless the Autobots concede to what we demand, then all of Cybertron will be burnt asunder.”

Starscream did not turn from where he stood, keeping his hands clasped behind his back. “And how, exactly, does this involve me and my crew?”

“The Seekers are vital to the Autobots, just as they were to us during the war. If you were to return to the Decepticons, then Sentinel Prime would have lost a major asset.”

“And if there is a divide? Let’s say an equal number of us join either side. What then?”  

“Well, I would hope that you have a tight enough control over them that such a schism would not happen. If necessary, then I’m sure we could find someone who would if you are not up to the task.”

The veiled threat in Megatron’s tone did not go unnoticed as Starscream turned to face him. Fear was evident on the Air Commander’s face, despite his best efforts.

“I see,” Starscream said evenly. “So, the choice is out of my hand. Either I consent to your terms… or be replaced.”

Megatron shrugged, feigning sympathy. “My apologies, Air Commander. I am merely acting on the behalf of Lord Trannis.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed. “Right. Which is why he sent the person with the incredibly large fusion cannon attached to his arm to guide towards the correct decision.”

Megatron chuckled. “Yes, well, to be honest, that was an upgrade given to me without my knowledge.” He flexed his right arm as he said this, making sure Starscream’s gaze was focused on the massive weapon attached to it. “So, then, what shall it be?”

Anger flickered briefly in Starscream’s optics as he glowered at Megatron before letting out a defeated sigh. “Very well. I shall grant the Decepticons full access to my Seekers and our operations. Does that satisfy your demands?”

Megatron nodded. “That it does. I shall relay your response to Lord Trannis.”

As he turned to leave, Starscream spoke up again. “One last thing,” the Air Commander said. “If you are Lord Trannis’ liaison, I expect we will be meeting again.”

Megatron looked over his shoulder and gave a barely perceptible nod.

“In that case,” Starscream went on, “may I ask for you name so we can get better acquainted?”

“I suppose you might as well. My name is—”

Megatron tore himself out of the memory before it could finish, finding himself back on the Nemesis. The apparition of Shockwave was nowhere to be found, leaving him well and truly alone in the room. After taking a moment to recompose himself, he headed for the door, hoping to forget all that had just happened by the time he got to the command bridge. 

As he made his departure, he failed to notice the small dark shape slinking out of the shadows, watching his every move.

Milliseconds before the door slid shut after the Decepticon leader, Ravage made a dash for it and zipped down the corridor without anyone noticing him.

*  *  *

“This whole thing blows,” Brawl said.

Four of the Combaticons sat in what amounted to be the Nemesis’ recreational room. Unlike the Autobots, the Decepticons were discouraged from mingling or socializing or doing practically anything that distracted them from conquest. As such, the refueling station aboard the ship only contained the bare necessities and not much else in ways of entertainment or alternative fuel sources. Looking around, Blast Off saw only a handful of other Decepticons; a couple of the Stunticons sat at one refueling station, Krok sat all by his lonesome at another, and the twins Darkwing and Dreadwind occupied a third. Judging by the dour silence, it seemed as if pretty much everyone was felling as pessimistic and cynical as the Combaticons were feeling.

“I mean, seriously,” Brawl went on. “What’s the point of combining if we’re just gonna get our afts whooped by some metal snake lady?”

“We probably could have taken her—and that other guy—if you hadn’t lost focus,” muttered Vortex.

Brawl half-rose from his seat, pointing an angry servo at his comrade. “Don’t put this all on me! You screwed up just as much as I did!”

“Fellas, fellas!” Swindle waved his hands to calm them both down, not that it ever did any good. “There’s no need to point fingers at anyone! Let’s just regroup and reassess our situation. Besides, I’ve got the perfect weapon we can use against these Destructons.”

The other three looked at him. “You do?” Blast Off asked.

Swindle smiled sheepishly. “Okay, well, I don’t have it in hand yet because my, uh, benefactor hasn’t shipped it out to me. I still need to make the first few payments before he will. But if you guys could pitch in, I’m sure we can—”

Brawl thrust out his arms and shoved Swindle out of his seat, knocking him to the floor. “Frag off,” the green tank snarled.

“Why waste your energon fighting each other?” The remark came from the refueling station occupied by the two Stunticons, with the maroon and gold Dead End looking in the Combaticons’ direction. “At that point, you might as well just offline yourselves. Spare yourself the misery.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should take your own advice, loser,” Vortex fired back. “I don’t hear you offering any bright ideas.”

“Why should I?” Dead End replied. “It’s not like anyone’s going to listen to me or take my advice. And even if they did, it probably wouldn’t work. And even if it did, we’ll probably just screw something else up and get scrapped for it.”

“Oh, for spark’s sake, just shut up already.” Drag Strip, the other Stunticon at the station, brought his head down and clutched it with his hands. “I can only take so much more.”

Blast Off inclined his head in the Stunticons’ direction, looking more so at Drag Strip as he knew Dead End probably would not answer him. “Do you guys know if you’re next up in the cards? Maybe Megatron will try to throw Menasor at someone?”

“Oh, did Wildrider’s name for us catch on already?” Drag Strip said sardonically as he lifted his head back up. “We haven’t even fully tested our combined form yet. Primus knows if it’ll even work.”

“It probably won’t,” Dead End lamented.

Vortex looked over at Darkwing and Dreadwind before pointing a thumb to them. “Say, didn’t those guys combine with Starscream a couple of years ago? During the whole Thunderwing fiasco?”

“I guess so.” Blast Off shrugged. “Why?”

“Nothing. I was just… I didn’t realize so many of us could combine.”

“I wouldn’t call eight bots ‘so many.’”

“Actually, it would be twelve since Onslaught and the other Stunticons aren’t here….”

Before Blast Off could respond to that, he caught movement at the entrance to the refueling stations and turned to see Starscream enter the room. He instinctively got up from his seat to stand to attention, as did some of the others, although Dead End remained seated, acting oblivious to everything around him.

Looking upon the assorted bots in the room, Starscream allowed a small smile to come to his face. “Ah, just the mechs I was looking for.”

Blast Off exchanged glances with the others, wondering if Starscream was referring to them. Instead, however, the Seeker walked past them and over to where Darkwing and Dreadwind were seated.

“Deathsaurus sent me to fetch you,” Blast Off heard Starscream say to them. “He says he requires your… expertise on something.”

Neither of the twins looked thrilled by that, but neither one of them complained as they got up and departed from the room. Starscream started to go after them only to stop and look at the Combaticons, as if noticing them for the first time.

“Where is Onslaught?”

“Haven’t seen him,” said Swindle. “I thought he was at a meeting with you and Lord Megatron.”

“Ah, yes. That meeting did not go… quite so well.” Starscream then smiled, an expression which made Blast Off feel uneasy. “But perhaps matters can be rectified.”

“I don’t like it when people use big words,” Brawl muttered. “What are you trying to say?”

Starscream’s smile broadened. “Why don’t you come with me so we can find Onslaught? I have a proposal for the lot of you… and I trust that you will find it most interesting.”

Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Star Wars X-Wing: Chasing Phantoms, Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

“I don’t think you realize, Baron Fel, just how long I have been waiting for this moment.”

Soontir Fel said nothing as he sat on his knees, held up by a pair of stormtroopers. Blood dripped from his broken nose and his face was heavily bruised from the beating he had received. He had turned himself in willingly when his X-wing fighter arrived on Coruscant, but that didn’t mean Isard wasn’t going to have her fun with him.

Still, as much as she would have liked to execute him there on the spot, or perhaps even throw him into Lusankya, a deal was a deal, and she was not going to upset Thrawn now when she needed his services now more than other. The Grand Admiral had already sent a shuttle to receive Baron Fel before she had even informed him of the Corellian’s capture.

After making a mental note to figure out what Thrawn’s methods of intelligence gathering were, she motioned for the two stormtroopers to take Fel away, albeit not before taking the opportunity to spit in his bruised face. She watched as the white-armored soldiers carried him out, allowing herself a smirk as she reveled in this small victory, as inconsequential as it was.

Now to rid myself of the rest of Rogue Squadron, she said to herself. Should Wedge Antilles or any of his ilk end up on her doorstep, she would not be so merciful to them.

Hands clasped behind her back, she turned to look out the window of her office, watching the skyline of the ever-encompassing city as night fell over Imperial Center.

She had dedicated so much of her life and career towards reaching this moment. She would do everything in her power to make sure it did not slip from her fingers.

The Empire was hers. Coruscant was hers.

And no one would take it away from her.

*  *  *

Soontir Fel could not see where he was. His entire body ached from the beating he had received from the stormtroopers and his right eye was beginning to swell up. His ribs hurt like hell, making it difficult to sit without lurching forward, although the guards on the shuttle would not let him lie down.

The pain only worsened when the shuttle shuddered to a stop, indicating that it had arrived at its destination—whatever that was. He felt himself being pulled forcibly out of his seat and led down the ramp. Through his swollen eyes, he could see an entourage of stormtroopers awaiting him in the hangar bay. Standing in front of them were two officers; one was human, with the standard uniform of an Imperial captain, while the other had blue skin and glowing red eyes, with the white and gold uniform of a Grand Admiral.

Fel felt his heart skip a beat. He recognized the alien. He remembered seeing him at the planning stages for the Battle of Derra IV; the true mastermind behind that whole ordeal.

The stormtroopers held Fel upright as the alien Grand Admiral regarded him with his glowing eyes, acknowledging his presence with a courteous nod.

“Welcome, Baron Soontir Fel, to the Chimaera. I am Grand Admiral Thrawn.” He gestured to the captain beside him. “This is Captain Pellaeon. I take it from your current condition that Director Isard did not take kindly to your arrival on Coruscant?”

Fel glowered at Thrawn as best he could despite his bruised face. “I remember you. You developed the plan for Derra Four, with Lord Vader.”

Thrawn’s lips twisted into a smirk. “I am flattered that you remember me, Baron Fel. Although you do not seem pleased by my presence.”

Fel took in a deep breath before releasing it in a sigh. “Forgive me, Grand Admiral. My anger is not directed at you so much as what you represent in my eyes. The Empire as I know it has been built on the tenets of the High Human Culture, and yet….”

“And yet it relies on non-humans for their victories.” Thrawn nodded sagely, appearing to be not at all offended by Fel’s words. “Yes, I am aware of the hypocrisy. It is something I would be most pleased to discuss with you should we ever find the time. But until then, we have more important matters to attend to.”

Fel regarded Thrawn skeptically. “Why am I here? Why did Isard send me to you?”

“It was at my request,” Thrawn said. “You are much too talented and skilled to be wasted by Isard, who I have no doubt would have you executed or imprisoned for eternity due to her petty grudges. I made a deal with her to acquire your services while simultaneously removing you from the New Republic’s service. You are an enemy of the Empire no longer, Fel. You are a true Imperial, as you were always meant to be.”

“I no longer wish to be an Imperial,” Fel muttered. “Not if it means serving Isard. I just want to find my wife and child.”

“It is fortunate, then, that both matters have already been addressed. You will be serving me rather than Isard… and your wife and child have already been found.”

He motioned with a hand and the sea of stormtroopers behind him parted as one of their number brought a young woman with blonde hair forward. In her arms was an infant child, who slept peacefully in his mother’s arms.

Fel sucked in his breath. “Syal?”

The woman’s eyes lit up upon seeing him. “Soontir?”

Suddenly, all of the pain in his body went away as Fel slipped out of the stormtrooper’s grasp and ran to his wife and son, pulling them into his embrace. Thrawn and his forces watched them silently, but Fel no longer cared about them. They could do whatever they wanted with him now; all that mattered to him was that his family was safe.

His family….

Fel pulled away slightly from Syal, keeping her in his arms as he turned to look back at Thrawn. Before he could even say anything, the Grand Admiral raised a blue hand to stop him, as if he already knew what he was going to say.

“Arrangements have already been made to relocate the rest of your family, Baron Fel. You will all be kept safe from Isard’s unpredictable wrath. All I ask in return is your loyalty.”

Fel did not need to think about it for long. All of his reservations about the alien and all of his questions about what the Grand Admiral was up to was irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. If it meant keeping his family safe, then he would do anything.

“You will have it,” he said. He then broke away from Syal to give Thrawn a proper salute. “Baron Soontir Fel at your service, Grand Admiral.”

Thrawn smiled, and it almost seemed genuine. “Excellent. Welcome back to the Empire, Baron Fel. Your service shall be greatly appreciated.”

*  *  *

“I heard about what happened to Syal. I’m sorry.”

Wedge smiled sadly at the hologram of Sabine Wren. “Thank you, Sabine. And hey, don’t blame yourself for not being there to protect her. I understand you had… other matters to take care of.”

Sabine simply nodded silently. She hadn’t spoken much about it, but from what Wedge had gathered her entire clan had been wiped out on Mandalore during the Empire’s assault. The New Republic had not been able to reach the system in time, and the Mandalorians were now scattered across the galaxy, left without a place to call home.

Wedge supposed he wasn’t the only one who had lost family today…

After a moment, Sabine cleared her throat to break the silence that had fallen. “Anyway, I can’t speak for long. We’re due for Lothal and there’s… someone I need to meet up with. I wish I could tell you the details, but… you know.”

Wedge wasn’t sure he did, but he pretended to either way. “I hear you. I have something important to take care of as well; don’t want to be caught procrastinating or else they’ll think Janson’s been rubbing off on me.”

That got a smile from Sabine, as sad as it was. “I won’t keep you then. I’ll see you around, Wedge. And… may the Force be with you.”

“And with you, old friend.”

After exchanging their goodbyes, the call between the two friends ended, with Sabine’s hologram dissipating into the air. Wedge took a moment to recompose himself before exiting his new office aboard the Restoration. Outside, he was surprised to see a familiar face waiting for him.

“Wes!” Wedge exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Wes Janson lifted his eyes from the datapad he had been reading and gave Wedge a mock grimace. “Guess who got transferred to Nantz’s fleet? And was put in command of Yellow Squadron?”

Wedge beamed at him. “Now you are finally going to understand my pain. Congratulations, Janson. You are now officially an adult.”

Janson snorted before waving with the datapad in his hands. “I also wanted to get a peek at the folks you’ve got lined up for this new squadron of yours. You should have cross-examined them with me, just for old time’s sake. Some of these people, Wedge… I don’t know how you’re gonna manage them.”

“Why, do you know some of them?”

“I mean, maybe just from reputation alone.” Janson tapped the screen with the back of his hand. “I mean, Koko is going to be stinking up the flight simulators on day one. That one belches worse than a Hutt. And Jethpur, hoo boy, if you thought Nrin was insufferable, wait until you get a load of him!”

“Uh-huh.” Wedge reached over and took the datapad from Janson’s hands. “I can’t imagine any of them being as bad as you.”

“You never know. If that Toah Jarsan guy is half as dangerously handsome as me… you’re gonna have your work cut out for you.”

“Jarsan, eh?” Wedge checked the name on the datapad. “You know, I think Lando mentioned someone by that name when I stopped by the Fortune’s Son. He said he did pretty good at the Battle of Naboo, especially for someone as inexperienced as him.”

“Maybe he switched off his targeting computer to save the day.”

“Well, Luke’s Artoo unit was with him at that time, so maybe it was just good luck.” Wedge smiled. “Then again, as Luke tells me, there’s no such thing as luck.”

“Oh, there is,” Janson said. “I’ve just been cursed with the bad kind. At least when it comes to the dating department.”

“You said it yourself, Wes. You’re just too damn handsome for your own good.”

Janson punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Get out of here, flyboy. Hey, have you thought of a name for your squadron yet? Because I have a few suggestions if you need any.”

“No thanks. I don’t need a court-martial from Admiral Nantz for calling my unit Poodoo Squadron.”

Janson rubbed his chin. “Hey, now, that’s a good one. I wish I had thought of it.”

This time, it was Wedge’s turn to punch him in the shoulder. The Corellian then laughed as he shook his head. “No, I already have a name for them. Both Admiral Ackbar and Admiral Nantz told me that these guys are effectively nobodies; all washouts and green trainees. Nobody’s ever heard of them… and if all goes to plan, then no one ever will. We will be in and out before the Empire ever knows we’re there.”

“Ah. So like mice or something?”

“No.” Wedge grinned. “Like phantoms.” 

*  *  *

Gallius Rax paced back and forth in his private quarters aboard the Ravager, his red cape sweeping the floor behind him with every step he took.

“Everything is in place,” he murmured—not just to himself but also for the sake of the sole other occupant in the room. “We have the Specter. Zsinj is sending the witch. The vessels have been prepared.”

He stopped to regard the dark figure standing in the room—or at least where he thought they were standing. He could not make them out in the darkness.

“You are certain that the ritual will work?” he said. “I don’t want any of this to be for nothing. The damage cannot be undone.”

“Do you doubt my knowledge, Admiral Rax?” the quiet yet foreboding voice of Darth Vorath came from the shadows.

Rax swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, of course not. I just… we will only have one shot at this. If it fails—”

“If it fails, then you will not live to suffer the consequences. Take solace in that fact.”

Rax squared his shoulders. “But I will have failed my Emperor. I will suffer in Hell with that knowledge alone.”

“Then for your sake, see to it that you do not fail.”

Rax nodded resolutely, his heart still pounding as he thought about everything that could potentially go wrong. Then, he dropped down to one knee, bowing his head to the shadowed figure.

“Show me again,” he whispered. “I need… I need another taste of it.”

He heard the Sith Lord shift in the darkness. “As I have already told you, you do not have the potential to wield the dark side.”

“I know. But… it helps me focus. The pain. The anger. The fear. Please… it is all I ask for.”

“Very well.” A decrepit hand extended from the darkness. “Open your mind.”

Rax did as told, and in an instant the gates of Chaos opened and all of Hell flooded into his mind. Dark, twisted images assailed his eyes as pain coursed through his body like lightning. Dying, agonizing screams filled his ears, nearly deafening him with their cacophony of torture. It was the worst thing Rax had every experienced in his life.

And it was beautiful.

All he could do was laugh and cry as he writhed on the floor of his room, at the mercy of the ancient evil looming over him. It was almost nostalgic in a way, bringing him all the way back to that fateful day all those years ago, when he had been but a child.

The day he had met the phantom menace.

Soon. The was the only coherent thought running through his mind.

Soon.

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

THIS EVIL REBORN