Star Wars Destinies Retold: This Evil Reborn, Prologue

    This is a continuation of my extensive rewrite of Destiny I: The New Republic, which began with From the Ashes.

PROLOGUE

 Jakku, thirty years ago

“Wait up, Galli! Wait up!”

The boy did not listen to his friend as he trudged through the sands, keeping the cloths wrapped around his face tight as he marched across the desert. The heat of the sun bore down on him and he was already becoming fatigued by the time he was halfway towards the Plaintive Hand plateau. But still he marched on, determined to reach his destination.

Atop the outcropping of flat rock was a spacecraft unlike any he had seen before on Jakku. There were plenty of vessels that came in and out of Niima Outpost, but they were typically freighters; worn down ships occupied by shady smugglers or dangerous bounty hunters. But this ship was different. It had an elegant look to it, almost regal. Its hull was sleek and silver, its sheen reflecting the blazing sun back into Galli’s eyes. Its color scheme was broken up by red accents and highlights, the most prominent being the nearly-opaque canopy of the cockpit. Its wings were angled and swept back, making it look like a vast predatory bird ready to take off at any moment.

He had no idea what kind of ship it was or where it had came from. But it called to him. It spoke his name.

He wasn’t sure how he had managed it, or how long it had taken, but he had eventually made it to the top of the plateau and was now standing in the shadow of the ship. Several hours must have passed, he realized, as the sun was already beginning to set, heralding the cold of night. He slumped against one of the landing gears, suddenly tired and weak from his deadly trek.

The sound of voices jolted him back to his senses and his dark eyes searched for a hiding spot. He realized that the landing ramp of the ship was lowered, providing him with an opening into the vessel. He looked around for anyone nearby; the voices were drawing nearer but he could not see anyone. Deciding to take the risk, he made a dash for the ramp, his long legs carrying him up the lowered platform. He quickly scoured for a place to hide himself and soon found a compartment that was just barely large enough to fit him.

As he closed himself up into the small compartment, he idly wondered about his friend, whether he had gone back to Niima Outpost to get help. It had never crossed his mind to go back for him and bring him along in his daring escape from this dustball of a planet. He was only concerned for himself and his own wellbeing.

He was going to get off Jakku, no matter what, with or without his friend. He was never going to come back to this planet again.

Within just three minutes of him stowing himself away, he heard the voices grow nearer and nearer, until soon they were just outside his hiding spot. He heard someone raise the landing ramp and he pressed his ear to the wall in order to discern the words they were speaking.

“…begin work immediately,” one voice was saying, belonging to a man. “My only concern is how we will be able to procure the funds without raising suspicion from the Senate.”

“That is no concern,” said a second voice, another man who sounded older and wiser. “I still have frozen assets belonging to my old master that should be able to suffice. The Senate will oblivious to anything happening.”

“Excellent. Is there anything else that needs to be done here?”

“Oh, there is one thing. I don’t suppose it will hurt to leave some of the excavation droids behind to begin work ahead of schedule? Just to ensure that this site is indeed viable for our needs.”

“Of course, my lord. I shall see to it at once.”

Galli heard the sound of movement and his heart caught in his throat as he heard the sound of compartments opening. He then heard the landing ramp lowered again as one of the two men disembarked from the ship. The ramp then raised back up and there was silence for a time.

Then, the second man spoke. “You can come out now.”

Without warning, the hatch to the compartment he was hiding in flew open and he fell out, landing hard onto the deck of the ship. He turned over on his back and stared up at the old man standing over him. Dressed in black robes, with a hood raised over his head, yellow eyes bore down at him as harshly as the sun. Yet when the man spoke, his voice was as cold as ice.

“Did your parents never teach you not to stowaway on strangers’ ships?”

Galli drew himself up, getting up onto his feet, although he was still only a head shorter than the old man. “I don’t have any parents,” he said lamely. “I’m an orphan.”

“Ah. So no one would miss you if you were to die?”

The boy swallowed, his throat feeling parched and it wasn’t just because of thirst. “Are you going to kill me?”

“That depends. How adamant are you on staying aboard this ship?”

Galli squared his shoulders, his dark eyes meeting the old man’s yellow irises. “I don’t want to stay here. I hate it here. I want to leave Jakku and never come back.”

“You’re hardly the only one to carry that sentiment.” The man inclined his head forward and Galli resisted the urge to shrink away in fear. “Tell me, boy; why should I care about your desires? What gives them priority over that of anyone else’s?”

To that, Galli had no answer. His jaw worked for a response but none came. The old man continued to stare at him as he slowly extended a pale hand towards him. The boy braced himself for the worse, only to be surprised when the hand landed softly on his shoulder.

“You have two choices here, my friend,” the old man said, his voice quieter yet still just as harsh. “You can either stay on this ship, in which case you will die… or you can leave, and live.”

Galli felt himself beginning to tremble but still he did not look away. He refused to show fear, even if it was plastered all over his face. “Then kill me,” he said, his voice shaking. “The life I have is not one I wish to live any longer, and if I can’t have anything better than that… then I would rather have death.”

He cursed himself for the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. The old man continued to look down at him… and then, slowly, he smiled.

“My boy,” he said, now speaking as if he were a kind grandfather. “I am already offering you a better life by letting you leave this ship. Better than anything you could possibly imagine.”

Galli blinked as he stared back at him. “W-what do you mean?”

“The work I am doing here on Jakku is of the utmost importance. The fate of the galaxy hinges on its success. If you step back outside, you will have the significant task of ensuring that success. There are excavation droids hard at work now as we speak, and it will be your mission to make sure they do not falter in their task.”

“Excavation droids? What are they excavating?”

“That is not for you to know. Not yet, at least.” The old man smiled at him, but it was not a smile that filled the boy with warmth. “If you do decide to take on this task, then you will follow it to the utmost of your ability. Should you fail or become lazy—and trust me, I will know—then you will have wished you had died here and now. But…” He raised a long, bony finger. “Should you perform your job well, then I will return for you and you will be able to see the rest of the galaxy and live the life you have dreamed of.”

Galli swallowed. “How long will that be?”

“The future is always in motion… but I can give an estimate of five years. In five years, I will return to Jakku and pass judgment on your work. Until then, you will remain here and make sure the droids do their work.” The old man then lowered his hand from Galli’s shoulder. “The choice is yours. Make it wisely.”

Galli closed his eyes as he weighed his options… but truly, it did not take him long at all to make up his mind. It was almost as if the choice had already been made for him.

Before long, he was standing at the edge of the Plaintive Hand, watching as the mysterious ship took off into the sky, carrying its two passengers into the stars he so longed to see for himself. But one day, he would.

Soon, he told himself. Soon.

Star Wars: Vergence VI, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

 43 ABY

Located within the remote Galactus Nebula, Brodo Asogi was a mystery to most denizens of the galaxy. Inhabited by the secretive Asogians, contact with the Green Planet was rare; natives that departed from their world typically traveled to verdant worlds to collect plant samples which they then brought back to their world for study. Beyond that, Asogians were rarely seen throughout the galaxy; they didn’t even have a presence in the Galactic Senate, although they once had a delegation during the final years of the Old Republic.

Having once been commander of the Imperial Remnant’s Perinn Sector Fleet, Admiral Wred Lortay was familiar with Brodo Asogi to a certain extent. He had never been to the planet, but it was located in the sector he had once been assigned to defend under Moff Lecersen. Having grown up on nearby Valc VII, he vividly recalled a time during his younger years when an Asogian delegate had come to speak with Lecersen’s predecessor, Moff Crowal. He had gotten a glimpse of the alien’s trunk-like body and scrawny neck which retracted in and out of its torso. The sight had horrified him then, and the memory of it only disgusted him now.

His family had long been against the prospect of non-humans playing any role in Imperial affairs, and when the First Order arose to supplant the weak-willed Remnant, he was quick to swear allegiance to the new Supreme Leader. Now, with the Moffs long gone, the Perinn sector was under his jurisdiction, and the Asogians would rightfully know their place in the grander scheme of things.

For the past few years, the First Order had spared Brodo Asogi from its wrath, focusing on more strategic worlds such as those located in the Slice. But as of the other day, he had received orders from the Supreme Leader himself—relayed through one of his emissaries—to venture into the Galactus Nebula to abduct a particular Asogian from the Green Planet so that he could be interrogated. What information the alien supposedly held was not something Lortay had been made privy to, as apparently the Knight of Ren assigned to his station would be doing the interrogation personally. 

But Lortay did not mind being mind being left out of the loop. Any opportunity to see one of those Asogians cower in fear before him was a good one.

Standing on the bridge of his command ship, a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer designated as Necrosis, Lortay watched as a Xi-class light shuttle escorted by four TIE fighters emerged from the Green Planet’s surface and headed up into the hangar bay. He allowed a smirk to cross onto his face for a job well done—not that the Asogians had put up much of a fight being the pacifists they were. His dark elation quickly vanished when he glanced at the Knight of Ren standing to his side, and his nose creased in disgust.

While most of the Knights of Ren, from what he had seen, hid their species with masks and armor, they at least passed for humans which allowed them to blend in among the First Order ranks. But the one assigned to him, a woman named Karis, could not have hid her non-human heritage if she tried. Large green wings extending from her back marked her as a member of some winged humanoid race—likely a Stenax or a S’kytri of some sort. She kept the wings folded to keep them mostly out of sight, but there was simply no hiding such protrusions.

Her face was hidden behind a black mask with a thin red visor. When Lortay turned to look at her, she inclined her head towards him, and he could swear he saw his own reflection in that small crimson window.

“Was the extraction successful?” Karis asked, her voice slightly modified through the helmet’s vocabulator.

“Indeed it was,” Lortay said icily. “I suggest you head down to the interrogation chamber to await the prisoner.” And to get out of my sight, he added silently to myself but did not dare voice aloud. He knew the creature wielded a lightsaber and did not dare cross her, as much as he would have liked to.

Karis stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. Without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and began to march down the bridge. Lortay watched her go for only a few seconds before sharply turning away as well, unable to bear the sight of her hideous back anymore.

The sooner the galaxy is rid of scum like her, he thought to himself, all the better for it.  

*  *  *

It took everything within Karis’s own power to maintain her composure as she strode through the corridors of the Necrosis. Every stormtrooper she passed tilted their helmeted head slightly towards her, and every officer gave a withering glare in her direction.

She should have been used to such looks by now; the xenophobia inherent within the First Order and its Human High Culture was impossible to ignore. But without the other Knights of Ren—particularly her former master—at her side, the venomous looks had become even more targeted and prominent. She had felt it practically exude from Admiral Lortay when she had been in his presence, which had made her all the more eager to take her leave from the command bridge.

Even within the Knights of Ren she had never been particularly liked by the others; her presence was only tolerated because she had been apprenticed to their master Kylo Ren. But ever since her master had went missing six months ago, the rift between her and the others had only widened. After their endeavor on Mandalore, Vicrul Ren—their new leader—had recommended that she be assigned to the First Order forces stationed in the New Territories. Ostensibly, it was to spread their reach across the Outer Rim as the First Order made its push towards conquering the galaxy. But Karis knew the real reason: They wanted her gone, but found her too valuable to simply kill or dispose of. They were likely betting on the fact that she would get overwhelmed by some Resistance force or Jedi strike team and end up perishing in the process, ridding them of the burden she was to them.

She involuntarily flexed her hands, barely tempering the rage building within her. She would not give them that satisfaction. She would prove her worth by carrying out the Supreme Leader’s will, even if she had to do it alone and without anyone’s support. She at least had a lightsaber, something which the others—save for Kylo—did not have until Vicrul got his hands on the Darksaber.

As she understood, leadership of the Knights of Ren was claimed by whoever carried a red lightsaber—the “Ren” they called it. Named for the former Sith acolyte that had established the Knights nearly two centuries ago, the Ren had passed down from master to master; if it was ever destroyed, then it was always rebuilt or replaced, as Kylo Ren had done when he had taken control fifteen years ago. With both him and the saber he carried now gone, she was now the one with the red blade… but apparently, that did not qualify her for mastery. Instead, the Supreme Leader had given that honor to Vicrul after he had claimed the ebony blade of the Mandalorians.

She wasn’t exactly sure what it was that made them distrust her. Like many of them, she had been recruited by whoever was the current Master of the Knights; for her, it had been Kylo, while for them it had been Kylo’s predecessor. She knew that some of them—Vicrul especially—had their grievances with Kylo, but was that enough to explain their distaste for her? She didn’t think her being a non-human had anything to do with it, as she was pretty certain some of them came from non-human races themselves. Were they simply threatened by her power? Her skills? Or was it something else?

She was still unable to reach a plausible explanation by the time she reached the interrogation chamber. She forced herself to put such thoughts aside as she stepped into the darkened room, instead focusing her attention on the other occupants.

Two stormtroopers had just finished strapping the Asogian to the interrogation seat. It was an awkward fit for the alien, with his squarish head barely fitting within the collar and his long arms hanging uselessly to the side. Along with the stormtroopers was the First Order officer that had procured the prisoner. The pale-skinned woman eyed Karis warily with icy blue eyes before glancing back at the Asogian, her pointed nose wrinkling in disgust.

“I have not been able to extract much information from it,” the officer said. “I trust that your efforts will prove more fruitful.”

It, Karis noted. Not him, her, or them. Just it. That was how non-humans were regarded here, just as they had been at the height of the Empire’s reign.

Pushing her thoughts back again, Karis nodded curtly to the officer. “Thank you, lieutenant. I will not be long.”

With a dismissive sniff, the officer strode out of the chamber. The two stormtroopers trailed behind her, taking guard positions just outside the door as it closed behind them.

Now left alone with the prisoner, Karis turned her gaze to the Asogian. He stared at her with wide blue eyes, his whole body trembling with fear.

This was the only time anyone regarded her with any form of respect. When they were at her mercy.

Clasping her hands behind her back, she began to pace around the interrogation seat, keeping her gaze trained on the Asogian from behind her visor. “Do you know why you’re here?”

The prisoner swallowed hard, his long, thin neck rippling from the motion. “No,” he croaked, his voice shuddering. “Please… don’t hurt….”

“No harm will come to you if you give me the answers I seek.” Karis wasn’t sure if she was lying or not. “First, tell me your name.”

The Asogian hesitated at first before speaking. “Zr…Zrek.”

“Zrek,” she echoed. “The same Zrek who now serves as chief of the agricultural sector on Brodo Asogi?”

“Y-yes,” the prisoner stammered.

“The same Zrek who, after the Clone Wars, partook in a venture that was ostensibly a botany mission to the Unknown Regions but was, in fact, an extragalactic voyage?”

To this, the Asogian fell silent, his thin lips quivering as he kept them sealed. Karis came back around the seat and leaned in towards the smaller alien, bringing her masked visage close to his face.

“It’s a simple enough question, Zrek,” she hissed. “Sure, the Empire forbade the extragalactic mission that Senator Grebleips had funded, which would have made you a criminal for having partaken in it. But the Empire is gone now, and the First Order is not looking to punish those who broke its laws. Especially when it’s been nearly sixty years.” She slowly lowered her hand to the lightsaber which hung from her belt. “So there is no harm in telling me, is there?”

She put a little bit of the Force into her words, planting seeds of fear within the Asogian’s mind under the guise of reassurance. Zrek swallowed again before blinking his wide blue eyes. “No harm,” he echoed in that croaky voice of his.

“Right.” Karis leaned away from him and resumed making her rounds. “Besides, in the time that has elapsed since your… unsanctioned voyage, plenty of contact has been made with territories that lay beyond the known galaxy. Much is known already of the Nagai and the Tofs from the satellite galaxies. So you should be able to tell me, Zrek, if you succeeded in your voyage or not.”

Zrek took in a haggard breath before releasing it in a loud sigh. “Yes. We succeeded.”

She paused in her steps, her head snapping to him. “You reached another galaxy?”

“Yes.”

“Was it one of the satellite galaxies? The Rishi Maze or what the Nagai call Firefist?”

“No.” Zrek closed his eyes. “Far, far away.”

She gripped the edge of the interrogation seat as she leaned in close to him again. “And what did you find there?”

The Asogian took another moment to respond. “Life.”

“Sapient life? Or plant life?”

The smallest of smiles touched the prisoner’s lips, almost as if he was reminiscing. “Both.”

“Both?” Karis could not believe what she was hearing. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the Asogian was simply so old that he had become plagued with dementia or senility. But still, she continued her questioning. “Did you document any of the species you found there? Or take a sample of their plant life?”

“Yes,” Zrek answered her. “Plant life added to the Great Gardens. Information recorded to the Galactical Encyclopedia.”

So the information was verifiable, at the very least. She doubted the leaders of Brodo Asogi would add any information to their great database if it came from the delusions of a madman. And if that was the case, then it meant the knowledge she sought—what the Supreme Leader sought—was just within reach. But she needed to hear the prisoner say it before she could report back to the Supreme Leader and authorize a takeover of the Green Planet.

“Give me the information you added to the Encyclopedia,” she demanded. “What kind of species did you encounter? What did they call their planet?”

Again, the prisoner hesitated. Zrek turned her eyes to her, his mouth drooping down into a frown. “No harm.”

“Yes, yes, no harm will come to you if you just tell me—”

“To them.”

Karis frowned behind her mask. “To them?”

“If I tell you,” the Asogian continued, “swear to me that you will bring no harm to the world I found or its people.”

She stared at him, grateful for her mask as it meant he could not see the conflicting emotions warring on her face. She could promise him that she would not personally bring harm to the planet that he had discovered in his mission… but she could say the same for the First Order in general once she delivered this information to the Supreme Leader.

It was an easy enough lie, and yet for some reason she had difficulty in saying it. “I swear to you,” she murmured, her modified voice masking its lack of sincerity.

Zrek continued to stare at her, his eyes suddenly pensive as if he were trying to study her like a plant in one of his gardens. “You hurt,” he started to say.

“I will not hurt you or—”

“You hurt yourself.” He tried to lift one of his long arms, his movement restricted by the bands around the spindly limb. The tip of his index finger began to glow. “Darkness plagues your heart. Your heart—your mind—is sick.”

She leaned away from him, taking a few steps back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know me.”

His lips twitched back into a small smile. “Know enough. Let me heal you.”

“I don’t need healing.” Karis unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and ignited its scarlet blade. “Now tell me everything you know about the planet you found, and its people. Or else I will hurt you… and them.”

The Asogian sighed as he shook his head. “I will tell you, but you can do nothing with the knowledge.”

“Out with it then,” Karis snarled.

And so he told her. And with each word he spoke, Karis found herself falling more and more into disbelief… until eventually, she circled back into the realization that everything he was telling her was true.

And that the galaxy itself would collapse from even trying to fathom the truth.

When he was done, she shut off her lightsaber and made her way for the door, leaving the Asogian there. As she stepped outside, she found the human officer waiting for her, an expectant look in those cold blue eyes.

“Well?” the officer asked, sounding more than a bit impatient.

“Patch me through to the Supreme Leader,” she ordered. “I’ve found what he’s looking for.”

*  *  *

Light years away, aboard the flagship of the First Order itself, Vicrul Ren bowed before the Supreme Leader, his helmeted head angled towards the pristine floor. His heart thrummed against his chest as he maintained his breathing, putting on a facade of composure in order to mask his growing sense of impatience.

He had counted them; ten full minutes had passed so far since he had entered the Supreme Leader’s throne room, taken a knee, and spoken the words he had wanted to say for the last six months—if not longer than that.

“Teach me the ways of the dark side.”

Snoke had simply sat there in his throne after he had said this, scraping under his nails as he allowed those words to hang in the air. Vicrul knew that the Supreme Leader had heard him and so he did not dare repeat himself. But he also did not want to be kneeling in this position for much longer….

Finally, at the twelve minute mark, the silence was mercifully broken by the Supreme Leader’s deep, gravelly voice. “What makes you believe you are worthy of my knowledge?”

Vicrul lifted his head up. “I am the Master of the Knights of Ren. You taught Kylo Ren, and the Ren before him—”

“The Ren you originally served was not my student,” Snoke interjected. “He was an asset, yes, but never my student.”

Vicrul bristled from the correction. “In any case, I have served the Knights of Ren—served you—for many years. I have accomplished so much more than the others. More than even Kylo.” 

He unclipped a rectangular hilt from his belt and pressed the ignition switch. The black blade of the Darksaber extended from the emitter. The red-clad Praetorian Guards that flanked the throne tensed up but Snoke raised a hand to belay them from moving.

“I have claimed the Mandalorians’ mantle of leadership,” Vicrul went on. “Mandalore is now rightfully mine to rule.”

Snoke arched a hairless eyebrow. “Do you consider yourself a Mandalorian?”

Vicrul hesitated. “No. I am more than that—I am a Knight of Ren. But without their precious symbol, their clans are scattered and powerless. In only six months, their numbers have been spread thin as we’ve broadened our attack on their worlds. It won’t be long before the legacy of the Mandalorian Crusaders is nothing but ash.”

“And what then? What use will Mandalore be to you after that?”

Vicrul said nothing as he shut off the Darksaber, retracting its ebony blade. Slowly, Snoke arose from his throne, clasping his hands behind his back as he approached him.

“You have indeed pleased me with your latest accomplishments, Vicrul Ren,” the Supreme Leader said. “But that alone is not enough to make you worthy of becoming my apprentice. Kylo Ren was much stronger in the dark side and had the legacy of Darth Vader—and by extension the Sith Order—behind him. What do you have?” His disfigured face twisted into a sneer. “A desolate world that has been forgotten by all.”

Vicrul tightened his grip around the Darksaber’s hilt. “My being from Hattaska means nothing. My past means nothing. What matters is what I achieve in the here and now. That is what makes me worthy.”

“We shall see.” Snoke made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Let us see how your campaign against the Mandalorians proceeds from here. Then perhaps I will reconsider. But until then, you are simply my servant—not my student.”

Vicrul could feel his anger boiling but he tampered down his emotions. Without a word, he rose to his full height and, after a moment, reattached the Darksaber to his belt.

Just as he was about to leave, one of Snoke’s purple-robed attendant approached and whispered something to the Supreme Leader. Snoke’s eyebrows raised again before he gave the attendant a slight nod. “Put her on.”

Suddenly, a blue figure materialized in front of Vicrul and he quickly took a step back. It took him a minute to recognize the shape as that of his fellow Knight of Ren; Kylo’s former apprentice Karis. Her large green wings were folded at her back as she took a knee in front of Snoke.

“Supreme Leader, we have successfully captured the Asogian known as Zrek,” the S’kytri woman said. “I have just finished interrogating him.”

Snoke smiled down at the hologram. “Excellent. And what information have you gleaned from his mind?”

Karis was slow in responding, as if she was considering her words. When she spoke, she almost sounded as if she wasn’t believing what she was saying—not because she was lying, but she was truly in disbelief. “He confirms what you have suspected, Supreme Leader. The Asogians were successful in traveling to another galaxy. Not one of the satellites, but one that is truly far away from our own. More than that, he said that the world he found there was home to humans.”

Vicrul did a double-take at those words. Humans? In another galaxy?

Snoke, for his part, did not at all seem to be surprised. Instead, he simply grinned back at the S’kytri Knight. “Excellent work, Karis. This information will be quite fruitful for our future endeavors. Tell Admiral Lortay to send his forces down to Brodo Asogi to acquire one of the Asogians’ exploration vessels so that its hyperspace capabilities may be examined in detail.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader. Is there anything else you require of me?”

“Not yet. Stand by until further notice, and report to me when Admiral Lortay is finished with his task.”

“As you wish, my liege.”

With that, Karis’s hologram dissolved and Vicrul was left staring in the space where she had been. He then looked back up at Snoke as the tall despot sat back down in his throne, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“That,” the Supreme Leader said pointedly, “is who your competition is. Keep that in mind.”

Vicrul could only glare back at Snoke through the visor of his mask before turning sharply on his heel and marching down to the turbolift. As he fumed in silence, he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to prove himself superior to his supposed “competition.”

Even if it meant eradicating it personally. 

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination IV, Epilogue

EPILOGUE

  “The paradox lives. Our creation has failed.”

In the realm that laid beyond all of reality, the entities known as the Vok convened, their shapeless forms swirling endlessly through the void.

“Correction,” a second one said. “We have failed. Lord Imperious was much a part of us as we were of him. He was more than just an emissary; he was the culmination of the history and culture we left behind.”

“Do not allow yourself to fall into such worthless concepts as sentimentality,” the first one chided the other. “We are above such feelings now. We must focus on what is important, and that is the fate of all of reality.”

“Indeed,” the second one bemoaned. “Because of the paradox’s continued existence, the order of the universe remains fragile. Even with the gates that had been opened by the Timemazes now closed, the curtain that separates this reality from the rest remains fragile. Even as we speak, those who have traveled through time and between realities before seek to do so again.”

“Yes, but you yourself said that their intentions were noble.”

“That I did… and that they needed to be dealt with. Otherwise, realities will continue to collide. Past and future will merge with the present. Everything will collapse.”

“But what can we do to prevent it? Our sole remaining emissary is the one called Tigerhawk. Is he alone capable of stopping what is to come?”

“No. Not by his own hand. But perhaps he can influence the events that are to come so that they result in the desired outcome.”

“Indeed. Perhaps a more subtle approach is required, rather than the direct and overt approach that we took with Lord Imperious.”

“Correct. The dark one continues to slumber within the earth, biding his time. He is the key to their extinction. Our emissary will ensure that his heralds succeed in their objectives, perhaps even joining their ranks to see things to fruition.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” The other Vok cackled. “And through him we can observe everything fall into place. Their oblivion will be much more gratifying to watch.”

“That it will, that it will.”

And so again the Vok laughed over their plans for the future, their voices heard by none, as a universe oblivious to their machinations carried on with its existence.

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination IV, Chapter Ten

TEN: TO ASHES WE TRANSFORM

 The Nemesis

“All hail Megatron! All hail Megatron!”

The chants of the assembled Decepticons echoed all throughout the bridge, carrying the same level of enthusiasm that was typically only held by the likes of Lugnut. Even Astrotrain and those who had joined Starscream in his attempted mutiny joined in, cowed by what they heard of how Megatron had destroyed Lord Imperious (corroborated by Starscream himself). Starscream, for his part, did not join in the chanting but remained close to the front of the crowd, his arms folded as he watched everything and everyone closely.

Sitting in his command chair like it were a throne, Megatron basked in the glory of his victory. For the first time since embarking on his mission to reunite his scattered armies and settle the score with the Destructons, he felt fully in control of his empire—something which he had not felt in three years.

Of course, this victory was only the first step towards the ultimate end goal. There were still more than needed to be done… and he would waste no time in getting to them.

After allowing another few minutes full of chants to go by, he silently raised a hand and the entire bridge went silent. All eyes were on him now, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

“Today,” he began, “is a day that will forever go down in history. Today marks the full reunification of the Decepticon Empire and the final defeat of the Destructons, bringing an end to a campaign that should have ended long ago.”

Another round of cheers broke out. Once it had settled down, Megatron continued. “But the work has only just begun. The Destructons were just one of only many obstacles that stand in our way towards complete and utter victory. The Autobots remain an ever-present nuisance, and the organic world they so desperately try to protect now carries within it the soul of our foretold destroyed: the Chaos Bringer himself, Unicron.”

“Traitors to our race!” Lugnut bellowed, and several others echoed him.

Megatron smirked. “Indeed. Now, I have heard whispers that Primus himself walks among them and perhaps even wears the Autobot badge. But those same whispers claim that our species were created by the organic mercantile race known as the Quintessons.”

More than a few Decepticons jeered at the idea and made sounds of disgust.

“I shouldn’t need to tell you, of course, that you are being deceived. The Autobots are desperately trying to change the narrative in order to hold onto what little power they have. But we know the truth. Decepticons we may be, but I speak only the truth now. Those who dwell now on the planet they call Earth have forever been infected by the evil of the Chaos Bringer. They stand for the eradication of our race, just as the Destructons had.

“But we will not let them succeed. No longer shall we allow the Autobots to fool us into a false peace. Their order shall fall. Earth will be destroyed, and with it the dark god that inhabits it. And Cybertron shall be ours!”

The bridge erupted in uproar once more, dozens of voices cheering and chanting his name. It took several minutes for them to settle down again, and only then did Megatron resume speaking.

“But before we begin… there is one more thing I must address, just so that all of our affairs are in order. Air Commander Starscream, would you step forward?”

A hushed silence descended upon the crowd as all eyes turned now to the gray, red and blue Seeker. Starscream shifted uncomfortably before wordlessly stepping to the forefront. He kept his head tilted forward slightly in reverence, although whether it was genuine or not was impossible to tell. Not that it mattered.

“I am yours to command, Lord Megatron,” Starscream started to say.

“Spare me.” Megatron rose abruptly from his seat, his mighty form casting a shadow over the Seeker. “Do not think for an instant that you have been absolved for your transgressions.”

Starscream snapped his head up to him, fear and defiance fighting for dominance on his face. “My liege, I fully acknowledge the error I have made. I was wrong to presume you to be unfit for leadership; you more than proved yourself in getting rid of the Destructons. I hereby pledge myself to—”

“Your pledges mean nothing,” Megatron snarled. “How long before you perceive another misstep? Or before you become plagued with more delusions of grandeur? Will you remain loyal to me then, or engineer another mutiny?”

Starscream started to back away, attempting to retreat into the crowd. He bumped into Astrotrain, who merely shoved him back towards Megatron.

“Please,” the Seeker stammered pathetically. “Everything I did was for the benefit of the Decepticon Empire. I want the same things you do! I—”

“That you do,” Megatron replied. “Which is why I cannot afford to have you around any longer.”

Starscream gaped at him as he raised his fusion cannon. Behind him, the crowd of Decepticons slowly began to part, as if to anticipating what was to come.

“An example must be made, Starscream,” the Decepticon leader intoned. “That is the burden all great leaders must carry.”

Starscream’s pleas and protests were drowned out by the sound of the fusion cannon discharging. The blast of energy punctured straight through his chest and knocked him off his feet. His body hit the deck with a loud clang, slid on its back for a few feet, then went still. All present watched as the red and blue colors of his armor plating slowly faded into black and white hues. The lights behind his optics flickered before extinguishing, leaving only black windows into an empty shell of a machine.

The assorted Decepticons stared at his lifeless body for a moment before slowly turning back to face Megatron. The Decepticon leader retook his seat, a content expression on his face.

“See to it that his remains are disposed of properly. I no longer want his presence sullying this ship.” He then turned his gaze to Flatline, who stood among the crowd. “Once we have reached New Kaon, I want you to get to work on restoring Trypticon to full operational status. You may need to create a new… conduit since we’ve lost Full-Tilt.” A dark smile touched his lips. “I believe the one who calls himself Megastorm will do. I do not need any more imitators on this ship, physical or otherwise, but he is loyal enough to still be of some use.”

Flatline bowed his head. “Your will shall be fulfilled, Lord Megatron.” 

“See to it that is. A new age is upon us, my fellow Decepticons. Once the Autobots have been wiped out, Cybertron will again experience a golden age… and the rest of the universe shall quake in fear of my power!”

This time, he did nothing to silence the cheers and chants that shook the bridge. After so many years of stagnation and defeats, he felt that they had earned themselves this moment.

As he settled back into his throne, he looked upon his army as they showered him with praise and reverence. Where mere years ago he would have rejected or dismissed such expressions, now he welcomed it.

Besides, it was all he could focus on to ignore the fact that the apparition of Shockwave stood among them, watching him silently as the cheers went on and on…

*  *  *

It felt so strange to be back at the bottom again.

Were anyone to look at him, it was as if the past several hours hadn’t even happened. He thought that him being an unwitting participant to Starscream’s short little rebellion would have resulted in punishment, yet no one had come to deliver it. He thought that maybe him assisting Megatron in fighting the Destructons would have resulted in some sort of promotion, yet no one had come to extend such an offer.

Instead, Krok was back where he had started: working sanitation duties aboard the Nemesis.

Perhaps it was the best outcome. Had he been promoted, he would have had to compete with others vying for Megatron’s favor, and that was simply not anything he had any patience for.

At the very least, Nickel had offered to visit him more frequently whenever she could, if only to give him some company. And if he was being honest, that was more than he could have ever asked for.

As he approached the Nemesis’ garbage disposal unit and prepared to open it, Krok heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned around and was briefly taken aback by the sight of Spinister. The tall purple and blue Decepticon towered over him, carrying some black and gray husk over his shoulder. Krok was about to say something to his former comrade but stopped himself, remembering what Nickel had told him.

They might as well be newborn bots.

Letting out a sigh, Krok said, “Can I help you?”

Spinister grunted as he unceremoniously dropped the weight he had been carrying. Krok nearly jumped back in alarm as he saw that the husk was in fact a corpse. But it wasn’t just anyone’s corpse.

It was Starscream’s.

“Make sure there’s nothing left of him,” Spinister said, already turning to walk away. “Megatron doesn’t want him around anymore.”

Krok looked down at the Seeker’s lifeless body, and for once he couldn’t exactly fault his leader for feeling that way.

Not giving it any more mind, he opened the garbage disposal unit and, with all of his strength, lifted the husk up and over the opening. He waited until he heard it hit the bottom. Then, he got rid of the rest of the trash he had been assigned to take care of. Once he was done, he closed the unit and pressed the command panel. He then propped himself against the wall, folding his arms as he began whistling a small tune to himself, waiting for the work to be done.

*  *  *

“You still have no idea where we are?”

“Give me a minute, will ya’?” Foldspace snapped. “I’m still trying to triangulate our position!”

“It’s been seven hours!” Spacewarp cried out, her voice echoing throughout the desolate sea of sand that surrounded her. In the sky above, night was turning into day as a pair of suns began to ascend from over the horizon. And in all of that time, it felt as if she and her Mini-Con companions—which now only consisted of Foldspace and the three she had picked up on Combatron—hadn’t made any progress in journey.

“Yeah, well, these stars don’t look like any I’ve seen before. Their arrangement don’t match anything in my stellar database.”

“Then we’ll have to go into orbit to see if we can warp to somewhere more familiar.” Spacewarp winced as she rotated her injured arm. By this point, the armor plating had completely dissolved, leaving only a skeletal frame. “Hopefully I can still transform in this condition….”

“Even if you can, we can’t warp anywhere. We’ve lost the—”

“I know!” Spacewarp sighed in defeat. “I know.” She dropped herself to the ground, not even caring about the coarse sand getting into the cracks in her armor. “I’m sorry, Foldspace, I just… I’ve never felt this lost before. Normally I’d be excited by an unknown planet like this, but after what just happened, I… I just feel defeated.”

Climbing over shoulder, the green Mini-Con known as Grip-Lock pointed up towards the sky. “Well, it looks like Skysickle and Thunderstick are back from their recon. Took ‘em long enough…”

Spacewarp looked up as the two Mini-Con fliers came down from the brightening sky, having been sent out to explore ahead five or so hours ago. They transformed and landed at her feet, both of them wearing concerned looks on their faces.

“Well?” she said expectantly. “What did you boys find?”

Skysickle released a string of binary, which Thunderstick translated. “Looks like there’s a spaceport of some kind about fifty hics from here. This planet is definitely inhabited, with all kinds of species. Can’t say I recognize any… but then again, we haven’t really gotten out much in the last several centuries….”

“That’s fine. Did you at least capture any visuals on the spaceport? Just to give me an idea of what we have to work with?”

“Oh, yeah.” Thunderstick slapped his maroon partner on the back. “Show her, ‘sickle.”

Skysickle obliged and projected a holographic image of the spaceport from his optics. Spacewarp watched it closely as the Mini-Con zoomed in on the image, showing her as much detail as he had been able to capture without getting sighted. There were definitely a lot of organics, and even some machines that were about Mini-Con sized or smaller, although they appeared to be not as independent as Cybertronians were. But what really caught her attention was the appearance of a certain kind of organic species… a kind that appeared to be plentiful on this planet.

“That’s weird,” she murmured. “Those look like humans.”

“What’s a human?” asked Grip-Lock.

“An organic species from a little planet called Earth. The Autobots are friendly with them.” Spacewarp tapped her chin. “Problem is that… I don’t think the humans are capable of interstellar travel yet. I mean, they’ve been to their moon, but they haven’t gotten to the point of setting foot on other planets in their solar system, let alone other star systems.”

“Well, maybe they’re not humans,” Foldspace suggested. “They could be Femaxians.”

“Nope. Too small to be Femaxians. And not as barbaric-looking.”

“Well, remember that one guy who shrunk you down to Mini-Con size? He had like a time machine or something? Maybe they’re members of his species.”

“I don’t think so, old timer. I’m pretty sure they’re just plain ol' humans. Sometimes the simplest answer is the most—”

Before she could finish, a blast of electricity struck her in the back. Her joints instantly seized up as she lurched forward and fell face-first into the ground. Foldspace and the other Mini-Cons scattered as a sleek, silver-plated figure came down from the sky, landing on top of Spacewarp’s back. In one arm he carried a blaster rifle of some kind, which he pointed at the back of her head, while in the other he held a pistol which he trained on Foldspace and the other Mini-Cons.

“No sudden movements,” the mechanical being intoned. His face was fully covered by a mask that was almost featureless save for a t-shaped black visor that broke up the chrome of his helm. “I can either bring you in warm… or I can bring you in cold.”

Spacewarp winced from the pressure of her assailant’s foot. “Do as he says, guys,” she muttered. “I’m starting to get the impression we’re far away from anything we can consider home. Far, far away….”

*  *  *

In a more familiar galaxy, Nemesis Prime stood in the center chamber of the Winged Moon. Around him, the mercenaries from Doubledealer’s crew got to work at the various work stations, trying to figure out how to operate the mobile satellite. Amidst them was Termagax, still trapped within her shield after one of the mercenaries had managed to hack into the systems to prevent it from lowering it, making her a prisoner now.

But Termagax didn’t act like a prisoner. In fact, she seemed rather pleased by her current predicament.

“You are him, aren’t you?” she spoke up at last, having studied Nemesis and his crew in silence for the past several hours. “You are the Arisen.”

“I already told you who I am,” Nemesis replied, not turning to look at her. “My name is Nemesis Prime.”

“Yes, but as a Prime you must be aware of the Thirteen; the ones whose legacy you carry. It has long been foretold that the thirteenth of the Primes—he who would arise from the ashes of his predecessors—would return to Cybertron and lead it to a new golden age. All surviving records of his physical appearance describe a figure much like yourself.”

Nemesis Prime slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, his red optics flashing briefly. “You’ve been out of the loop for a long time, haven’t you? Your so-called ‘Arisen’ has already shown himself, and is nothing more than an ordinary ‘bot. None of the Thirteen were the deities that people like you professed them to be.”

Termagax shrugged. “Perhaps you are correct. Indeed, I have been away for some time. I didn’t even know who the current Prime was until today; when I left Cybertron, the pretender Zeta Prime had claimed the title. But, please, tell me something.”

“If it’ll get you to shut up, sure.”

“The explorer… the one you just sent away… she had mentioned Optimus Prime.” Termagax stepped up to the shield, her face mere inches away from it. “That was the name Sentinel and I had selected for my former student’s ward. He was built in the spitting image of the Arisen, despite coming from a cold construction facility. My student saw this as a sign from Primus, as did Sentinel Prime and myself. We thought for sure he would become the Prime we needed to unify Cybertron and bring our society into an age of prosperity. So tell me… did he succeed?”

For a long time, Nemesis Prime simply stared at her, his face betraying none of his thoughts. When he did finally speak, his tone was low, quiet enough so that only Termagax could hear him.

“No. He hasn’t. In the near millennium that has passed, he has accomplished nothing of the sort.” He then tilted his head, a wicked gleam in his scarlet optics. “But not to worry, for you are correct about one thing… from a certain point of view. I may not be the Arisen mentioned in the legends, but I am… connected to Optimus Prime. I would not exist were it not for him. But in every place Optimus Prime failed, I plan on succeeding.” He lifted up the Transwarp Blaster in his hands. “This is only just one piece to the puzzle of that future success. There are two others that need to be found, at which point I will be ready to set things in motion.”

Termagax raised an optic ridge with intrigue, a small smile coming upon her face. “You speak in riddles. I think I like you already, regardless of who—or what—you are.”

Nemesis Prime chuckled. “Then perhaps this is the beginning of a long and fruitful alliance.” 

He made a gesture to one of the mercenaries, who then pressed a command at their work station. The shield around Termagax and her platform dissolved, allowing her to step down and stand in front of the dark Prime. He extended a hand to her and she took it, giving it a firm shake.

“Now then,” Nemesis said. “Are you ready to make history?”

“As opposed to being a part of it?” Termagax grinned—her first true smile in nearly a thousand years. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination IV, Chapter Nine

NINE: DUST OF ALL CREATION

 The Nemesis

“I still don’t like this,” Astrotrain groused.

“You’ve said that already,” Thundercracker retorted.

“I know, and I’m gonna keep on saying it ‘cos I feel like the only sane one here.”

The assembled Decepticons that had just hours ago attempted to mutiny against Megatron now stood on the bridge and waited as the Nemesis traveled through hyperspace, on their way to assist the very leader they had just turned against. When Starscream and Skywarp had reached out to their brother with their call for aid, only a few had objected, with most being in favor to leave for Metascan Alpha.

To Thundercracker, it really did prove just how dependent they were on Megatron. In the short amount of time that had passed since Megatron had escaped and Starscream had gone missing, no one had been able to decide who would call the shots. Astrotrain had put himself forward, but hardly anyone seemed eager to follow him. In terms of rank, someone like Skyquake or Onslaught might have fit, but there were enough on board who disliked them enough to pull off another mutiny.

Truly, that left Megatron has the only viable option for leadership. He knew how to keep the disparate groups of Decepticons in line; only the silver tongue of Starscream had been able to blind them from the fear that would have otherwise stopped them from even thinking about rising against him.

Thundercracker wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact. Was it a good thing for someone like that to wield so much power and to command so much fear? To the point where their absence left everyone else like a chicken-bot without its head?

The Autobots seemed to have managed just fine with a new Prime in charge, even if the old one was still around. Why couldn’t the Decepticons do the same?

Thundercracker sighed to himself. There was no time to think about that now. All he could do now to assuage his doubts was to tell himself that he was doing this for his Seeker brethren. The same brethren that had rejected him three years ago when Megatron had first fallen. When their empire first fell apart.

He honestly wasn’t sure if that made him feel any better.

Metascan Alpha

“So, this is the all mighty Megatron.”

Megatron grunted as he was slammed against one of the twin metal spires. Lord Imperious drew himself close to the Decepticon leader, the seams in his faceplate slowly beginning to split apart.

“I can’t say I’m impressed.”

With his right arm, Megatron grabbed the limb Lord Imperious was using to pin him against the spire and steadied his arm-mounted fusion cannon. He charged up and fired a blast of violet energy, which was enough to push the Destructon leader back but barely left a scratch on him.

“You might think you are stronger than you were all those years ago,” Lord Imperious continued. “But your power means nothing in the face of my superior intelligence. I have become far smarter and more cunning than I was on that fateful day. I will not be making the same mistakes I made back then.”

“Funny,” Megatron growled. “Because neither will I.”

Pulling up a battle mask over his face, Megatron deployed a set of triple-barreled rocket launchers on each of his shoulders. His fusion cannon split open down the middle, revealing a wider outlet for the destructive power it contained. Releasing a guttural cry that echoed throughout the deserted wasteland, Megatron charged towards Lord Imperious as he released his full armament of weapons.

The leader of the Destructons curled his wings around his body to create a shield in front of himself, but even this was not enough. The multiple rockets, missiles, and blasts of energy easily shredded through the metal of his wings, leaving only a skeletal frame behind. As Lord Imperious pulled back what remained of his wings, Megatron lunged forward and threw a fist into his enemy’s face, causing Lord Imperious to stagger and take a step away from the Decepticon leader. 

But Megatron did not let up. He threw another punch. Then another. Each one was harder than the first; so forceful were they that they even tore away at the plating on his fists, causing energon to leak from them. When still Imperious did not fall, Megatron seized the Destructon by the neck with one hand and pulled him in as he reeled back the other.

“I am going to kill you,” he said in a low tone. “Do you hear me? I’m going to tear you apart, bit by bit, until you are in a million pieces. Then, I will throw whatever is left into the prison that will forever be your home, as there will be nothing worth recovering.” He shook Imperious with all of his might. “Do you hear me?!”

“Oh. I hear you.” Lord Imperious slowly turned his head back towards Megatron, his face fully splayed open. “Do you hear me?”

From his open visage, he released a beam of energy that struck Megatron directly in the optics. The Decepticon leader cried out in agony as the world melted all around him. The skies turned violet as the ground became soft and pliant, causing him to lose his footing as he found it impossible to regain his balance.

“I’ve let you had your fun,” Lord Imperious said as he raised all six of his arms. “Now it’s time for me to have mine.”

*  *  *

“Okay, I’ve got Trypticon’s weapons back up and running,” Nickel said. “Just give me a target.”

Starscream, Skywarp, and Krok stood with her in the command center of the dormant Trypticon. The Titan’s systems had been brought back online just enough for them to view the battlefield below. From what Starscream could see, Megatron was still taking his anger out on Lord Imperious while Lugnut was tangling with both Bruton and Medusa.

As loathe he was to give Lugnut any credit, the brutish Decepticon had managed to do a good amount of damage to Bruton; his explosive punches had apparently blown a large chunk of the massive Destructon’s armor plating away. But between Bruton’s confusion-inducing club and Medusa’s wily tactics, Lugnut was far from becoming victorious.

Perhaps it was time to give him a hand.

“Target their position,” Starscream said, indicating the three combatants on the view screen. “Give them everything you’ve got.”

Krok glanced at him. “Won’t Lugnut be caught in the crossfire?”

As if I care, Starscream thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “He’s survived worse. Do it now!”

With a hesitant glance towards Krok, Nickel pressed the controls connected to Trypticon’s weapon systems. Outside, a cluster of plasma bombs launched towards Lugnut and his opponents’ position, followed shortly by photon beams from the Titan’s shoulder cannons.

The ground exploded beneath their feet, sending all three of them flying in opposite directions. Starscream did not pay attention to where Lugnut ended up, keeping his focus solely on the two Destructons.

“Keep tracking them,” he ordered. “And don’t stop firing.”

Nickel continued to fire photon beams at the two Destructons. While Bruton was held back by the barrage, Medusa managed to slither just out of range as she headed towards the Titan, her arm blades deployed as she prepared to climb up Trypticon’s body.

“Frag it,” Starscream cursed to himself. “Skywarp, get out there and distract her. Don’t let her get inside!”

Skywarp glared at him. “Way to throw me to the cyber-wolves.”

“You’ve already killed one Destructon. I’m sure you can take on another!”

The black and purple Seeker looked doubtful at that but nonetheless teleported out of the chamber. He rematerialized outside in his jet mode as he began to perform a strafe run against Medusa, winking in and out of existence to evade her strikes.

As Starscream watched everything unfold, unable to tear his gaze away from the action, he felt Krok tap him on the shoulder.

“Um, Starscream? Our leader appears to be having some problems.”

Starscream spared a brief glance to where Megatron and Lord Imperious were. The Decepticon leader was on his knees, clutching his head in pain as Lord Imperious stood over him, all six arms raised towards the sky as if in triumph.

He was almost sad to admit that he wasn’t surprised that their so-called glorious leader had folded so quickly. Almost.

“We’ll deal with them shortly,” Starscream muttered, returning his gaze to Bruton and Medusa. “One thing at a time.”

*  *  *

“Knowledge is power, Megatron. That is the one and only fact of the universe.”

Megatron could barely hear Lord Imperious over the sounds of his own screams. The terrain of Metascan Alpha had completely transformed into a hellish landscape. The sky was filled with undecipherable shapes, with some resembling distorted faces or nightmarish creatures. The ground moved like the waves of the sea, and he could have sworn he saw eyes and mouths opening up from beneath what should have been dirt, casting ravenous looks in his direction as if awaiting to devour him whole.

Lord Imperious moved around him, unaffected by the delirious world he had created. “No one understood this better than my creators; they who would come to comprise my very existence. In order to survive extinction, they uploaded their consciousness into a single database, in the hopes that their knowledge and customs would be able to withstand the inevitable fate of death.

“And withstand it, they did. More than they could have ever dreamed. Everything they knew of their world—every memory, every thought, every dream, every philosophy, every trade and discipline, every intellect—all came together to create a single entity. An entity that held no equal, as he would forever hold the capacity to learn new things; to create new memories; to have new dreams.” 

He knelt before Megatron and grabbed the Decepticon leader’s head, forcing him to look into his eyes.

“That is what I am, Megatron. That is why I am. I am the final stage of evolution; the ultimate culmination of the universe. From the day I was gifted independent thought, I made it my lifelong mission to learn everything about the cosmos. Every species I encountered, I assimilated their knowledge, expanding my databanks and skill set, before wiping them from existence. Because what purpose would they serve when everything that makes them a people lives within me? Everything about them is all in one place: my mind.

“That is why I formed the Destructons. The only path to universal peace is through complete annihilation. Those I have brought to my cause were all exemplary samples of what they represented; not their people’s culture, which I assimilated for myself, but the abstract natures that I myself, even for all my greatness, could not demonstrate. Bruton, for example, represents the strength and invulnerability of a true warrior; Medusa embodies the beauty and lust that fuels the creation of organic life itself; and Psychokhan carries the cunning deceit of a hunter.

“Knowledge. Strength. Beauty. Cunning. That is all you need, Megatron. That is all the universe needs. What purpose do entire civilizations serve when you can embody the essentials within four unique individuals? The universe can be allowed to thrive without sacrificing its resources to sustain those who would only waste it.”

Lord Imperious then released Megatron’s head as he stood up and turned sharply on his heel, folding his arms behind his back as he paced away.

“It was a foolproof plan… until I discovered you. Or rather, your species. You Cybertronians were unlike anything I had encountered before. I had encountered other mechanical races, yes, but their evolution was rooted in organic origin, making it easy to consume their knowledge. But not you. Your kind are an abomination; a crude amalgamation of machine and energy. Everything about you is artificial; your customs, your trades, your skills, everything. You were created by a race of aliens for the sole purpose of seeing if they could play god… and perhaps make a profit while doing so.

“Even if it had been possible for me to assimilate you, you were unworthy of it. You were an affront to the very nature of the universe and stood against everything we four were to embody. And thus, you had to be destroyed.”

Lord Imperious paused before looking over his shoulder at Megatron, his violet eyes narrowed.

“But, ashamed as I am to admit it, I had underestimated you. You proved to be far more cunning and capable than I had imagined. Of course, you wouldn’t have been able to contain us without the aid of the Logicons. But the fact that you were able to lure us into your little trap in the first place… that took some creativity, I will grant you that.

“And so it was that, when we were freed from our prison, I took it upon myself to find an alternative approach to your race’s extinction. You see, in my endless search for knowledge, I had come across a region of space known as the Warren; a rift in the very fabric of the universe that allowed one to look forward and back in time. To say I was more than a bit overwhelmed by all that it showed me would be an understatement; like a glutton at a buffet, I was at a loss on where to even begin.

“And then… the Warren spoke to me.”

If Megatron was surprised by the words, he did not show it. He had stopped screaming but still clutched his head, shielding his optics to avoid witnessing the nightmares surrounding him. Lord Imperious turned back around fully and began to slowly walk back towards him.

“It spoke to me, Megatron. The Warren was alive. Eons ago, when the universe was young and time was a new concept, it had been an entity known as a Vok—what your kind call the Omega Guardians. More than that, they were the people that had created me. In uploading their consciousness, they had been able to transcend to the Higher Realms from which they had been able to guide me, for I am them and they are me. I had become their emissary. But before then, before my creation, one of them—it who would become the Warren—had become impatient with this process and sought to exploit a rift in the Benzene Cluster. It was torn apart by this endeavor and morphed into the labyrinth of interdimensional tunnels that it has since become.

“Because of this, the Warren was something an oracle to me; it knew far more about the universe than I had learned so far, and well more beyond that. I know not why it chose me in particular to share its knowledge, although I suspect it was because our goals aligned quite fittingly. Because it showed me the ideal future I so hungrily sought after; a universe devoid of all life but for that which was necessary. The four essentials. 

“But in order to achieve that dream, I needed far more than what I already had at my disposal. Even the combined strength of me and my fellow Destructons, it would have taken eons for us to eradicate all that required it, and by that point the universe itself would be in its death throes. What we needed was something far greater, far more powerful than any of us.

“What we needed was Unicron.”

At that name, Megatron’s eyes snapped open. Lord Imperious carried on, perhaps oblivious to this.

“By this point, Unicron was still trapped in the dead realm that had been made his prison, but the Warren knew how to free him. It knew all that occurred throughout the universe; it knew what energies had banished Unicron to his prison in the first place, and it knew what energies could free him. By fate or coincidence, it just happened that one of your followers had already created those very energies and seeded them on various worlds with his transwarp technology.

“Armed with the knowledge provided to me by the Warren, I set out to put things in motion. I went to the Quintessons that created you and told them of Unicron’s existence, convincing them that he was a fragment of the deity they worshiped. While they got to work with their own schemes, I sought out the one who called himself the Grand Architect, who had made his own trip through the Warren and foreseen the coming of Unicron. I told him what he would need to do to prepare for his arrival; not once did he ever suspect that he would be summoning the Beast rather than banishing it.”

Lord Imperious splayed his six arms out again, rising them towards the sky.

“Everything that has transpired in the last few millennia of your race’s history has been my doing, Megatron. I knew that the Quintessons’ initial attempts to merge Unicron with Cybertron would fail, forcing them to work with the Grand Architect and see his plan to fruition, none of them realizing that all of their ideas and plans had been planted in their heads by me. Because I know everything. I am the culmination of the universe’s knowledge. I know how everything began, and I know how it will all end. It doesn’t matter what roadblocks or setbacks are faced along the way, it will all end with the final truth: that knowledge is power… and that I am Imperious.” 

He brought his arms down as he cast his gaze down at Megatron, his eyes filled with complete loathing.

“And by destroying you, I will have rid the universe of a rather frustrating headache. You represent everything I despise of your kind; not only are you a horrid abomination of metal and energy, but you are a living paradox. You exist only due to the exploits of those who have abused the powers of the universe to affect the timestream; indeed, it was only through the intervention of two interlopers from another reality that you were able to function in the first place. At least by eliminating you, your presence will no longer disturb the fabric of the universe. And once Unicron has destroyed all of your kind, it will at last know peace.”

Once Lord Imperious had finished speaking, Megatron slowly lowered his hands from his head. He lifted his gaze up to the Destructon… and he smiled.

All sense of superiority vanished from Imperious’ expression as it became replaced with confusion. “What are you smiling about?”

“You sure do love the sound of your own voice, don’t you, Imperious?”

The Destructon’s eyes flash with anger. “Do not be so dismissive, Cybertronian. While I have used deceit in the past to achieve my means, I speak only the truth to you now. There is no avoiding the inevitable; I have foreseen your death, Megatron, and it will be at my hands.”

“I know.” Megatron’s grin broadened. “So do it then.”

Lord Imperious blinked. “What?”

“Kill me.” The Decepticon leader spread his arms wide, exposing his chest. “You said it yourself. It is inevitable. So do it.”

Lord Imperious continued to stare at him, his anger quickly turning into bewilderment. “No… no, that’s not… that’s not what’s supposed to happen. I have seen your death. I have heard your final words. Those… those are not it. You are defiant until… until the very end.”

“Indeed, for I am defying your own predictions. Perhaps you have misinterpreted the future you saw.”

“No. No! The future I saw is definitive! There is no margin for error! All that I know is absolute! There is no room for… for….”

“For what?” Megatron smirked. “Creativity? Cunning, perhaps?”

Imperious continued to stammer as Megatron rose to his feet. Around them, the nightmarish landscape faded back into reality as the effects of the Destructon’s Delirious Fire wore off.

“You said it yourself. Knowledge, strength, beauty, and cunning are all that you need. And while I suppose one of those four is in the eye of the beholder…” 

Megatron raised his fusion cannon, fully primed with all of the energy he had been charging for the last several minutes, and aimed straight at Lord Imperious’ chest.

“I feel that the other three are more than enough.”

He released the energy contained within his cannon and the force of the resulting blast sent him flying off his feet. The energy that lanced from the barrel punched straight into Lord Imperious’ chest and out through his back.

The leader of the Destructons uttered nary a sound as he fell to the ground. With each passing microsecond, the memories and knowledge of countless civilizations forgotten by time faded into oblivion, never to be remembered or thought of again.

When the dust had settled, the ultimate culmination of the universe and the final stage of evolution was nothing more than a lifeless husk on a barren wasteland.

*  *  *

The blast from Megatron’s had been bright enough to be seen by all on the battlefield, bringing the fighting to a near standstill.

Medusa gawked in the direction of her leader, whose remains now littered the sandy ground. Skywarp, who had been continuing his teleportation attacks to distract her from Trypticon, wasted no time in warping away to assist Megatron, who had been launched several feet away by the blast.

Medusa did not know what to think. It was incomprehensible to her that someone as great and powerful as Lord Imperious could be defeated let alone destroyed. And yet, there was no denying the sight that now laid before her. After so many years of destruction—so many years of planning and preparation for this very moment—it had all been taken away in the blink of an eye.

She was broken out of her reverie only by a violent shake of the ground as Bruton’s body landed next to her. Her fellow Destructon’s body was practically charred to a crisp, resembling a large piece of coal after having been assailed by the Titan’s weapons and Lugnut’s explosive punches. If there was any life left in him, she saw no signs of it just by looking at him.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Lugnut looming over her, heavily damaged but still yearning for a fight. His central red optic fell on her and he readied his arm for another punch.

“Wait!” Medusa raised her arms, desperation filling her eyes. “I surrender! Please, show me mercy and I will pledge myself to your leader!”

“You,” Lugnut intoned, “are not worthy of Megatron’s grace. The only service you shall perform for him will be to die.”

The thrusters on his elbow kicked on and he prepared to throw his punch. Before he could do so, however, Skywarp suddenly materialized behind Medusa, now carrying the sword he had taken from Psychokhan. With one deft swoop, he sliced it through Medusa’s midsection, bisecting her at the waste. The light drained from her red eyes as her severed torso fell to the ground and her now-disembodied tail writhed away uselessly.

Lugnut uttered a low growl as he reluctantly powered down his arm, glaring down at Skywarp. “That kill was mine.”

“You had one already,” Skywarp said, tossing aside the sword.

“So did you! You have no room to talk—!”

“Enough.” Both Decepticons fell silent as Megatron limped towards them, clutching his right arm as smoke exhaled from his fusion cannon. “It matters not who dealt the final blow, so long as they have been destroyed. Skywarp, see if you can get the twin spires operational.”

Skywarp cocked his head. “Why? They’re dead now, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but that hasn’t stopped some of us before. I don’t want there to be any chance for them to return. We will cast their remains into the dimensional prison and then destroy the spires so that it can never be reopened.”

Skywarp nodded before teleporting away. Standing alone now with Lugnut, Megatron cast his gaze up at Trypticon, whose shadow still loomed over the battlefield. He narrowed his optics as he glared up at the Titan’s cranium, where he knew the command center—and Starscream—to be.

If the treacherous Seeker felt at all tempted to unload Trypticon’s weaponry on the Decepticon leader here and now, when he was most vulnerable, he did not act on it. At the very least, Megatron would give him credit for that.

Another shape then appeared in the sky, just over Trypticon’s head, and Megatron adjusted his optical sensors to distinguish it. He then smiled to himself as the Nemesis came into full view and descended down towards the surface.

“It is a beautiful day, isn’t it, Lugnut?” he said quietly.

Lugnut blinked, taken aback by the question, before nodding eagerly. “That it is, all mighty Megatron.”

Megatron grinned, his eyes filled with hunger. “Let us ruin it then, shall we?”