FOUR: NOTHING MORE
The Nemesis
“The Decepticon Syndicate, you say?”
“That is what they call themselves, yes.” Starscream stood beside Megatron on the bridge of the Nemesis as it made its way through hyperspace, en route to the Eshems Nebula. “They’ve even adopted their own unique insignia, from what I gather.”
Megatron’s optics narrowed. “And how has this escaped my notice until now?”
“To his credit, Clench has kept a relatively low profile and knew when to play his cards. It has only been since your… first demise that he and his forces have been gradually distancing themselves from the rest of the Decepticon Empire. And, naturally, we have all been too preoccupied with other matters to take notice.”
Megatron kept his gaze solely on the viewport in front of him, and yet he could still detect—out of the corner of his optic—the familiar apparition of Shockwave standing to his right.
“No matter how much you tighten your grip, control still slips from your fingers,” the cyclopian Decepticon said to him. “Were you ever really in control to begin with?”
Megatron snarled to himself but refrained from retorting out loud—especially since he now had an audience here on the command bridge. Instead, he said, “Should Clench refuse me, are there any resources on his side that we should be concerned about?”
Starscream considered as he accessed his databanks for the necessary information. “Based on some reports, they have gotten their hands on a supply of forestonite, which may have given them enhanced abilities. There are also some subgroups that Clench may be attempting to turn into combiners, although I don’t believe the Syndicate has access to such technology.”
“Good. Which means he doesn’t have anything we cannot handle.” Megatron turned his gaze to Skywarp. “How long until our arrival?”
The black and purple Seeker studied his monitor. “We should be dropping out right about… now.”
On cue, the lines of hyperspace coalesced once more into stars and the orange glow of the Eshems Nebula filled the viewport. Centered in the Nemesis’ sights was the planet of Ejoornus, homeworld of the Ejoornians and self-proclaimed capital of the Decepticon Syndicate.
Or at least, it was supposed to be.
Megatron frowned at the approaching world. Based on the intelligence Starscream had provided him, Ejoornus was supposed to be an organic world, covered in green swamps and rocky terrain. Instead, the planet before them was completely coated in metal, not at all resembling the images that had been provided to him.
“What is the meaning of this?” He glared at Starscream. “Don’t tell me you gave us the wrong coordinates.”
Starscream, for whatever it was worth, appeared to be genuinely shocked. “I… I don’t understand. I knew the intelligence was a few years out of date but surely—”
“Uh, my lord, we’re being hailed,” Skywarp said.
Megatron stepped forward, moving closer to the viewport. “Put them on, now,” he commanded.
Within seconds, the entire viewport lit up, replacing the view of Ejoornus with the grilled visage of Clench. The Decepticon warlord narrowed his optics as he recognized the Decepticon leader.
“Megatron,” Clench growled. “I was wondering when you would finally make your move. I was beginning to worry you had forgotten all about me.”
“I have no patience for any games, Clench,” Megatron growled. “Your days of playing warlord are over. Relinquish command of your troops to me at once or suffer the consequences!”
Clench laughed, steam exiting from the vents in his grill-shaped mouthplate. “Oh, that is rich. You truly believe you still have control over me? You do not intimidate me, Megatron. You never have.”
Megatron took another step towards the viewscren, fury blazing in his optics. “Stand down now or perish. I will not repeat myself.”
Clench leaned forward in his seat, his optics narrowed to slits. “You do not scare me, Optronix. To me, you will always be Trannis’ pet. Nothing more.”
Those words struck something in Megatron’s processor. Everything else became a blur to him. He did not remember which happened first or in what order: him blasting the viewscreen, and thus the viewport, nearly causing everyone and everything to be sucked out into the vacuum of space; him ordering all combiners, all Warriors Elite to be deployed; him ordering Trypticon to be summoned to flatten Ejoornus into a metal disk; him transforming to his spacecraft mode and taking off towards Ejoornus; him calling for Lugnut to deliver his punch of destruction (or whatever it was called)…
He supposed it didn’t really matter the order in which he gave his commands. They would all lead to the same result.
* * *
“Well, well. That went better than expected.”
Having regathered himself after lowering the blast shield to replace the shattered viewport, Skywarp looked up at Starscream in surprise. “Better?! He’s completely lost it!”
Starscream smirked, folding his arms. “That’s exactly the point, Skywarp. He’s once again proved himself to be unfit for command. I mean, what sort of leader lashes out so easily like that?”
Behind him, Thundercracker scoffed. “Oh, please. As if you would be any better. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to lead us, Starscream, and you failed at them each and every time.”
Starscream turned to his blue-plated comrade and feigned a look of surprise. “Who said anything about me assuming command? No, no, I have learned my mistake, my friend. I am definitely not suited for leadership.”
Thundercracker tilted his head. “Yeah? Who is then? We’re kind of short on options. Shockwave’s gone, Scorponok’s gone… I suppose there’s Deathsaurus….”
Starscream smiled. “There is one you are forgetting, my friend.”
“Oh, yeah? Who would that be?”
Instead of answering him, Starscream turned back to Skywarp. “Has Trypticon answered our glorious leader’s summons?”
“Uh…” Skywarp double-checked his monitor. “Yeah, actually. He’s just dropped out of hyperspace. Along with the rest of the fleet. Megatron really called in for all the guns, didn’t he?”
“Yes, well, some of those guns will have to wait to be fired. Tell Trypticon to stand by; I want to have a quick chat with him.”
Thundercracker studied Starscream with a skeptical expression. “What exactly are you up to, ‘Screamer?”
Starscream’s smile broadened into a full-on grin. “Just making some amendments.”
* * *
“Um, Lord Clench…?”
“Yes, I see him.” Clench rose from his throne, his eyes locked on the screens that showed Megatron in his spaceship mode making his fast descent through the planet’s atmosphere. “Clearly I’ve touched a nerve.”
“There’s more,” said his battle analyst Calcar. “I’m picking up dozens, maybe even hundreds of spark signatures emerging from the Nemesis. After taking a closer look, I spotted the Combaticons, Stunticons, and Constructicons among them… whom, if reports are to be believed, have been reconfigured into combiners. Oh, and I believe Sixshot and Killmaster might be among them. He’s really bringing in the big guns.”
“Yes, well, we have bigger.” Clench chuckled to himself as he folded his arms. “Still, it might be amusing to see how this plays out before we move to that level. Tell Skyquake to dispatch his Predators, and have Rage prepare his Stormtroopers. And make sure Deluge is on standby with his experiments.”
“As you command.” Calcar paused before looking up at his leader. “And what of the Legions?”
“I will see to them myself.” Behind his grill-shaped mouthplate, Clench allowed himself a sadistic smile. “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”
* * *
“This isn’t going to work.”
Drag Strip groaned as he held onto one of the gunship’s support beams, waiting for it to make its descent through Ejoornus’ atmosphere. “Don’t start with this, Dead End. The last thing we need is your morose diatribes.”
“Fine,” Dead End groused. “Just don’t come crying to me when everything ends in tears… assuming we come out of it in one piece.”
“Don’t worry, Dead End,” Wildrider said, a twisted grin on his red face. “We’ll make sure you get reduced to scrap no matter what the outcome. I’m sure Offroad will be happy to take your spot.”
“Is Offroad even still around?” Breakdown looked around the gunship’s interior with wide optics, as if scanning for unseen phantoms. “I heard that they got to him.”
Drag Strip frowned. “Who the frag is ‘they?’”
Breakdown’s head snapped to him and raised a finger to his mouth to shush him. “Quiet! They’ve got audio receptors everywhere.”
“I’m going to rip out your audio receptors if you don’t shut up about—”
“Enough,” growled Motormaster, the shadow of his frame eclipsing the other four Stunticons. “The time has come.”
The side doors of the gunship slipped open, allowing the furious winds of the planet’s atmosphere to whip through the interior. Startled by the rush of air, Breakdown lost his grip on his support beam and fell off the ship, plummeting towards the ground below. Wildrider joyously jumped after him, cackling all the way down. Dead End looked down morosely after them, only dropping as well when Motormaster shoved him off the ship.
As the Stunticon leader’s gaze turned to Drag Strip, the yellow-plated mech glared up at him. “This had better work…”
Motormaster grinned at him, completely without mirth. “Only one way to find out, yes?”
With that, he pulled Drag Strip with him as he fell out of the gunship. The five Stunticons fell freely through the atmosphere of the planet, fast approaching the surface. As their bodies drew closer to one another, as if being pulled together by some invisible force, all of their thoughts and emotions seemed to coalesce together. Drag Strip’s drive to win above all else became infected with Breakdown’s paranoia that someone would try to take victory away from him; Wildrider’s excitement to watch everything burn was hampered by Dead End’s dread. Only Motormaster’s complete lack of mercy and utter ruthlessness managed to keep them somewhat focused on the task at hand… just long enough for all of their minds and bodies to link together into a singular form.
By the time they touched the ground, which concaved from the force of impact, Menasor had opened his optics for the first time. As the combiner drew itself up to its full height, a menacing grin split across its face as it lifted a massive sword above its head.
This, the collective consciousnesses of the Stunticons decided, was definitely going to work.
* * *
“Oh, frag, they’ve got combiners?! How’s this gonna be a fair fight?”
“Calm down, Talon,” Skyquake replied, leading his flight of Predator jets as they soared through the skies. “This is what we trained for.”
“We didn’t train for combiners!”
“Nor did we train for fighting against fellow Decepticons,” pointed out Snare. “And yet, here we are.”
Those words did little to nothing to calm Talon’s nerves as the turquoise jet continued to mutter to himself. Skyquake supposed he couldn’t blame him fully for being intimidated by this scenario. Centuries ago, Talon, along with fellow Predator Falcon, had been among the casualties of the Battle of Vehicon. It had only been when Skyquake had sided with Clench’s splinter faction that the two were given a new lease on life, courtesy of Clench’s elusive benefactor.
Skyquake had no clue who this mysterious benefactor was or how they had managed to revive Falcon and Talon (among others from what he had heard), but he had not bothered to question Clench about it. It did not negatively impact the Decepticon Syndicate or its operations—quite the opposite actually—and so he had decided to let Clench keep his secrets.
If anything, he would have thought this would have boosted morale among the Decepticons, giving them the knowledge that they could have another chance at life even if they perished. Instead, those who had experienced resurrection or had heard of it were either skittish like Talon was now, or expressed apathy like Falcon seemed to.
Whatever the case, Skyquake could only hope that it would not interfere with their focus on the task at hand. While he had his own reservations about battling fellow Decepticons, his allegiance to Clench was clear, as were his orders. And he would see them fulfilled to the end.
As they approaching the raging gestalt identified as Menasor, Skyquake delivered his own orders to the other four Predator jets. “Prepare to commence strafing run. Aim for his connection points.”
Almost in unison, the Predator jets activated their enhanced targeting systems just as Skyquake readied his own Megavisor. Zooming in on the visual of Menasor, he aligned his targeting reticule with the connection point that linked the combiner’s right arm—made from Drag Strip—to its torso. If they could sever the connection of at least two of the gestalt’s components, then perhaps the others would follow in quick succession.
Once his target was in range, Skyquake lit up his guns, as did the other fliers, hitting their targets precisely. Menasor roared from the sudden barrage before quickly adjusting his massive sword to deflect the last few shots of the onslaught. His optics then flared as the Predators moved to fly above him and he swung his blade upward at them. While most of the fliers managed to get out of swinging range, Skydive was not so fortunate as the sword cut through his entire left side, taking away one of his wings. The maroon jet let out a cry as he plunged towards the ground below.
Skyquake did not look to see if Skydive survived impact or not. The point was moot, of course, knowing now what Clench’s benefactor was capable of. Granted, it all depended on whether or not Clench would deem him worthy of being revived.
Skyquake found that thought to be quite sobering, and for the first time he was beginning to understand why Talon and others were so apprehensive. Still, such thoughts would have to be pushed to the back of his processor as the Predators came back around and prepared for another strafing run….
* * *
The sounds of the battle outside were nothing more than a distant thrum as Clench moved deeper into the chambers of his fortress. Calcar was delivering him the progress of the battle in real-time over comms, but he barely heeded any attention to it. It honestly did not matter to him whether or not Megatron and his forces crushed those of the Syndicate; it would ultimately end with Megatron’s demise one way or another.
Opening the door to the chamber furthest from the rest of the structure, Clench stepped inside and sealed it shut behind him. The only illumination in the room came from the vats of energon that filled up the chamber, which in turn highlighted the silhouette of the only other occupant in the room.
“It is time,” Clench said to the shrouded figure. “Ready the Legions for release.”
The other mech did not move from where they stood in the shadows. “I cannot do so unless you give me a satisfactory reason.”
Clench closed his hands into fists, barely containing his simmering rage. “Megatron is here, and he has practically brought his entire army. The only sure way to defeat his forces is to overwhelm them. Then, once we have crushed Megatron, they will all be brought to heel and our vision of a true Decepticon Empire will be brought to fruition.”
“’Our’ vision?”
Clench growled as he stomped his foot, nearly shaking the chamber. “Look, are you going to release them or not? This is the moment we have been preparing for!”
“Correction: It’s the moment you have been preparing for. I have simply been giving you the resources necessary to make those preparations.”
“Then you should do what is necessary to make use of those resources! If you will not do it, then I—”
“Lord Clench?” Calcar’s voice crackled through his comm.
Clench flexed his hand, rage boiling in his spark. “Not now, Calcar. I’m busy—”
“It’s… it’s Megatron. He’s broken through our front lines.”
“Keep him preoccupied then. I need more time to ready the Legions.”
“He’s… he’s already… oh, god, he’s already broken into the fortress! We’re trying to stop him but none of our weapons have any effect on him!”
Over the comm, Clench could hear the sound of blaster fire and screaming, drowned out only by the sound of a fusion cannon going off. For the briefest of moments, Clench felt his rage temporarily subside, replaced with a growing sense of dread and fear. However, he quickly quashed such feelings as he whirled on his benefactor.
“Release the Legions, now! We must stop Megatron before he—”
Another scream filled the comm, this time coming from Calcar himself. Then, he heard a familiar voice come over the channel.
“I told you I wouldn’t repeat myself, Clench. Now you will pay the price for your disloyalty.”
The connection ended, and Clench soon heard the sound of thrusters fast approaching him, growing louder by the second. He figured Calcar or someone had given away his location, as before he had even finished turning around to face the door, it was atomized with a single blast from a fusion cannon. Emerging from the smoke was a gray and black-plated figure, bristling with weaponry. A fanged mask covered the Decepticon leader’s face as red optics blazed with unbridled fury.
Clench did not waste his energy with words. He unfurled the minigun attached to his left arm, took aim, and unleashed all of the rage he had contained within himself.
The pellets bounced off harmlessly from Megatron’s armor plating as he advanced towards Clench. He threw in a punch with his left arm, which Clench blocked with the riot shield mounted onto his right. The Decepticon leader then grabbed the edge of the shield and tore it off without any effort. He tossed it aside and it crashed into one of the vats, spilling energon onto the floor. Megatron did not pay it any mind as he then grabbed Clench by the neck, hoisted him off the floor, and slammed him into another one of the vats, shattering it as well.
Clench fell to the floor, and before he could get back up Megatron brought his foot down onto his back, pinning him in place. As the Decepticon leader brought his fusion cannon to the warlord’s head, Clench’s optics instantly went to all of the energon that now flooded the chamber.
“Don’t, Megatron!” he cried out. “If you fire now, we will all perish!”
“You might,” Megatron said coldly. “But I trust that my armor plating is reinforced enough to withstand such a blast.”
“And what about your troops? They may very well be caught in the blast radius.”
“They can be replaced.”
“How? You haven’t the means or the resources—”
“You would be surprised by what I have at my disposal.” Megatron began charging his fusion cannon. “Then again, I suppose you won’t live long enough to learn that.”
“Wait, Megatron! I—I have things you can use! Resources you might not have! You see those vats?”
Megatron looked up lazily towards the surrounding cylinders. “Oh, were those always there? I hadn’t noticed,” he said sardonically.
“They contain protoforms! Rapidly replicating protoforms! You can use them to create an infinite legion of clone soldiers, all for you to command!”
“My, how considerate of you.” Megatron lowered his fusion cannon. “Well then, I suppose I shouldn’t kill you here.”
Clench allowed himself to be filled with relief as Megatron lifted his foot. “Yes, thank you, Lord Megatron. I’m glad you could see—”
Before he could finish, Megatron grabbed him by the back of the neck before kicking on a pair of back thrusters. Raising his weapon arm, he blasted a path through the ceiling as he took Clench up through the fortress and out, blasting towards the sky.
As the ground rapidly became smaller and smaller beneath them, Clench’s mind raced for a way to break himself free without perishing in the process. Knowing his weapons would be of no use, he could only use his words.
“Wait, Megatron! I have connections—a benefactor who can be of use to you! If you spare me I can get you in contact with him!”
“Not interested.” Slowing their ascent, Megatron looked down at Clench as he dangled him over the ground, which was no thousands of feet below them. “I am truly sorry it had to come to this, Clench. You were always one of my most formidable generals. But unfortunately, an example has to be made.”
Clench could only stare up at the Decepticon leader in silence. For the first time in his life, he was scared by what he saw.
“But don’t worry,” Megatron finished. “I won’t wait for you to hit the ground.”
He then released his hold on Clench before immediately taking aim with his fusion cannon. As he fell to the ground, the last thing he saw was a purple flash of energy.
* * *
Skyquake was the first to spot Clench’s descent—mere seconds before he was obliterated in a single blast from Megatron’s fusion cannon. In that instant, Skyquake knew what had to be done, knowing that he was the next in line of command.
“This is Skyquake to all Syndicate forces! Clench has been destroyed. As Air Commander and acting ruler of the Decepticon Syndicate, I order all forces to stand down.”
Thankfully, no one protested his orders. Megatron had already made an example of several on the ground, breaking into the main fortress with ease. It wouldn’t have surprised him if many had already accepted defeat by that point.
Within moments, whatever was left of the Syndicate forces had assembled outside of the fortress, laying down arms to their Decepticon foes-turned-compatriots once more. When Megatron came back down from the sky, he accepted Skyquake’s surrender and did not appear to hold any animosity towards him or any of the Syndicate forces for their previous loyalty to Clench, even appearing to be somewhat amicable. It was almost as if him executing Clench had gotten something out of his system.
As losses and damages were assessed, Megatron pulled Skyquake aside and led him towards the fortress, where Calcar and others who had barely survived the Decepticon leader’s massacre were being recovered.
“Tell me, Skyquake,” Megatron said as he gestured widely to the planet’s metallic landscape. “What exactly happened here? I thought Ejoornus was an organic world.”
“It was,” Skyquake replied. “It was cyberformed.”
“Cyberformed? I thought we had lost the means to do such things.”
“We did. But Clench got into contact with some… benefactor who provided him with the means to do so. As well as other resources….”
“The replicating protoforms?”
Skyquake shrugged. “First I’m hearing about that. I also know he has been able to revive some soldiers thought dead, such as a few of my Predators.”
“Interesting.” Megatron rubbed his chin. “Perhaps I was somewhat hasty in executing him before he could divulge such details. But, no matter. We will make use of what remains here.”
“Lord Megatron!”
Both Decepticons turned to see Skywarp teleporting to their position. The black and purple Seeker fell to his knees, exhausted from exerting his powers.
Megatron grabbed him by the wing and pulled him up. “What is it?” he snarled.
“It’s Trypticon!” Skywarp exclaimed. “He’s… he’s gone! He’s teleported away!”
“What?!” Megatron’s optics flared in anger. “I thought we disabled him to prevent him from acting on his own accord!”
“I know. But… Starscream went to him and—”
“Starscream?!” Megatron pulled Skywarp closed, causing the Seeker to wince in pain. “What are you saying?!”
“I’m saying that Starscream left to talk to Trypticon and now Trypticon is gone.”
Skyquake could only step back and watch as Megatron threw Skywarp to the ground, raised his arms to the sky, and screamed at the stars.
