CHAPTER EIGHT
--Clemency, 860 Years Ago--
A sullen silence reigned upon the crew of the Decepticon cruiser. No one was looking forward to the destination which awaited them, for there was no point; none of them were going to live long enough to enjoy the scenery.
As Fulcrum sat alongside his fellow soon-to-be-dead teammates, a mech of the standard K-Class build walked up to him with an out-of-place grin on their face. Although Fulcrum found it hard to believe, the mech actually looked excited for what was approaching.
"It's Fulcrum, right?" the inappropriately cheerful bot said. "Name's Torque. I don't remember you from training. This your first time?"
Fulcrum glared at him in silence.
Torque chuckled, a bit uneasily. "Sorry. Just a little K-Class humor. I'm really, really excited to be here."
At that moment, the ship's boarding ramp lowered and all of the Decepticons stood at the ready. Standing just behind Torque, Fulcrum noted that his fellow bomber had the name "Ultra Magnus" crudely painted on the shell parts of his alt mode. From what he had heard of the notorious Autobot commander, Fulcrum figured this was a syk dream on Torque's part.
"Positions, everyone!" their commander called over the intercom. "Remember, you do this for the glory of the Decepticons!"
"For the Decepticons!" Torque bellowed, as if leading a rally. No one joined him in his cry.
Grimacing as he looked down upon the battlefield of Clemency, Fulcrum lowered his goggles and jumped.
--Clemency, now--
Witnessing the carnage before him, Fulcrum felt as if he was about to die for the second time.
Tarn was still taking on Trypticon; Helex was facing off against Crankcase and Spinister; Kaon and Vos had Krok and Misfire pinned; and Tesarus had Flywheels caught in his waldos.
Disaster was poised to happen. And it did.
"You really need to relax, Duocon," Tesarus said coldly as Flywheels struggled in his grip. "Why don't you come inside?"
As he said this, the blades in his chest cavity began to spin. Flywheels' cries for mercy were instantly silenced as he went in head-first.
"Flywheels!" Krok said as Kaon held him up by the arms.
"Quit squirming," the crimson Decepticon hissed. "Vos has a favor to ask."
Diverting his attention away from Misfire, Vos stepped forward and raised his hands to his face, removing it like one would a mask, revealing a featureless visage. He then turned the face over in his hands and a row of spikes jutted out from the back of it.
"Wear... my... face...."
Krok screamed in protest but was silenced as Vos forced the mask onto his face. At that moment, Misfire got up and fired a round of shots from his gun, but only hit Krok instead of either of the D.J.D. members.
"Sorry!" Misfire exclaimed. "I was aiming for the other guy!"
"And I'm aiming for you." At Kaon's beckoning, Vos jumped and transformed in mid-air, converting into a giant rifle. Upon landing in his partner's hands, Kaon took aim and fired the gun pointblank into Misfire's face.
It had all become too much for Fulcrum to handle. Scrambling to his feet, he moved to do what needed to be done.
--Delphi--
"Aw, slag, not these guys again," Skids muttered as he looked up at the towering gold robots.
"Wait, you know these bots?" Nautica asked.
"Long story."
"Which none of us have time for." Pharma was back on his feet and backing away towards the gold bots. "I believe this is where we part ways. So long, and have fun dying!"
"Twenty fourteen," one of the giants said as it opened its large mouth, preparing to fire a destructive beam of energy.
It never got the chance.
Swooping down from the clouds was the Lost Light, guns ablaze. As the gold bots diverted their attention to the ship, Skids leaped at one of them, all weapons deployed. Before everyone's eyes, the two giants were instantly torn apart by the dual efforts of Skids and the Lost Light.
Left defenseless and cornered, Pharma's optics darted around nervously. His shoulder then sagged. "Well, I suppose that leaves me down to only one option."
Windblade stepped forward in an imposing manner, stasis cuffs ready. "It certainly does."
The crazed doctor suddenly grinned. "So long."
Before anyone could stop him, Pharma converted into his jet mode and quickly took off, moving too fast for the Lost Light's guns to take him out.
"What, did he suddenly decided to become suicidal?" Nautica exclaimed incredulously.
"He has the antidote, remember?" Ambulon said glumly. "He can just cure himself... unlike us."
"I beg to differ." Windblade held up her hand, revealing a small vial of green liquid. "I'd say it's the other way around."
Anyone present who had a mouth stared at her with them agape. "How did you...?" Skids asked.
Windblade smirked. "I snatched it from him when I had him pinned, just before those giants tore up the roof."
"But I didn't see--" Skids then stopped to think. "You're a Cyber-Ninja."
"Um, yeah? What gave it away, the sword and martial arts prowess?"
"One can never be so sure."
--Clemency--
Trypticon released a raged roar as he fired a pair of cannons on his shoulders. No matter what he threw at Tarn, nothing was enough the bring the D.J.D. leader down. It was as if he was always one step ahead.
"You might be interested to know that I've read Banzai-Tron's files on every Decepticon," Tarn said as a blast from his fusion cannon struck Trypticon in the nose. "Think about it: That's every Decepticon ever. Past and present. Alive and dead. Every. Last. One."
He then fired his cannon at the ground to launch himself upward, landing on Trypticon's head. The giant Decepticon's arms were too small to swat at him and none of his weapons could aim at him. Tarn had found his blind spot.
"I rank them, you see," the D.J.D. leader went on, his voice growing softer. "By intelligence, strength, and importance. At the top, of course, is Megatron, our leader. The Autobot who defected; who snatched the throne from under your nose. And at the bottom... see, here's the thing: I don't know how you managed it... but you seem to have joined forces with the six biggest failures of all."
Trypticon grunted. "A better alternative than pathetic loyalists like you."
With that, the dethroned Decepticon leader jerked his head and sent Tarn flying off. Even as he fell, Tarn gave the order to his teammates: "Take him down!"
Kaon acted at once; he raised his hands and sent out several currents of lightning. They surged through Trypticon's body, causing his systems to seize up. His optics dimming, the great saurian Decepticon came toppling down, landing face-first in the dirt.
Tarn was back on his feet in an instant. "Fulcrum! No more distractions! It's time for you to face the music!"
"Up here, Tarn."
All eyes looked up to see Fulcrum standing over them on a cliff edge, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "I have a few last words."
Tarn scoffed. "Out with it then. You're only stalling the inevitable."
Fulcrum took a deep breath before speaking. "When I watch you slaughter my friends, slaughter fellow Decepticons, I can't help but feel ashamed to be one. You are the finest examples of what the Decepticons have degraded into: ruthless, callous barbarians."
He gestured at the beaten Scavengers below. "These five, however... they're what a Decepticon should be: brutal, yes; honorable, no; but trustworthy? Loyal? Definitely. In my eyes, each one of them is worth ten of you!"
He spread his arms out, the panels on his back becoming like wings. "So what I do is for them and anyone else the D.J.D. has murdered. What I do is for the glory of the Decepticons."
Tarn shook his head. "And what exactly do you intend to do?"
"I'm jumping, Tarn."
Like a bird of prey, Fulcrum vaulted from his perch, his arms splayed like wings... before transforming into a torpedo-shaped bomb.
Tarn's eyes widened. "Clear the area!" he cried as the D.J.D. scattered for cover.
The bomb hit the ground. All it brought was a cloud of dust.
Tarn stared at the dud bomb before scoffing. "Well, that certainly was anti-climatic. I thought K-Class were supposed to pack more of a punch."
"Tarn! Tarn!" Kaon rushed up him, looking excited. "I've found him! I've found his energy signature!"
Tarn's face brightened. "Finally. Helex, bring the ship back up."
Turning to the beaten Trypticon and Scavengers, Tarn said, "To those of you who are still alive: congratulations, you've all been added to the List. And don't worry, Trypticon; we'll get back to you eventually."
In moments, the Peaceful Tyranny was lifting off, leaving behind a graveyard.
EPILOGUE
--The Lost Light--
"You know, I had no idea this ship had guns," Skids said. He and Elita-One were gathered in Brainstorm's lab, watching the inventor as he connected the wavelength transmitter from Delphi to the tachyon.
"None of us did," Elita said. "At least not until Swerve found them."
"Oh yeah? How did--?" Skids thought twice before finishing. "Never mind, I don't want to know."
"So, how are Nightbeat and the new doctors handling?" Elita asked him.
"Doing well with the antidote. Nightbeat's been able to transform with no ill side effects. First Aid still needs a new T-cog though."
"And... we're off!" Brainstorm activated the finished Prime Tracker and began toying with it. "Everything appears to be in working order. Just give me a few minutes to find the Boss Bot."
Elita patted him on the shoulder. "I have faith in you, Brainstorm."
"Who doesn't?"
As Elita left the lab with Skids, she said to him, "So, any idea on where Pharma's headed off to?"
"He has to be dead by now. We took the antidote from him before he could use it on himself. He's probably cried himself to death already."
"It still baffles me that he would turn on us like that," Elite murmured. "He never showed any signs of wavering loyalties before. He hated Decepticons."
Skids shrugged. "Primus know what his motives were. But it's all moot now, I sup--"
"Earth!"
Both Autobots turned to see Brainstorm running up to them, the Prime Tracker in his arms, with a gleeful glint in his eyes.
"I've found him! Optimus Prime! He's on Earth!"
Elita beamed. "That's brilliant! ...What's Earth?"
"Dunno. Just some planet. Neutral territory, it seems. It was only recently added to the galactic map, about fifty years ago."
"Doesn't matter." Elita was already striding back to the bridge. "Let's get a move on; we've got a Prime to find."
--Clemency--
"What kind of a stunt was that, pinhead?"
For the second time today, Fulcrum was surprised to find himself alive. There he was, in the crater he had made, looking up at Misfire, Spinister, and Crankcase. The latter was cradling the injured yet alive form of Krok. Fulcrum shuddered to think of Flywheels' fate.
"I... should be dead," he murmured. "Like... really, really dead. That's supposed to be the point of being K-Class; the 'kamikaze' is in the name."
"Hmm? Oh yeah," Misfire said. "We removed your explosive thingy when we found you. Didn't want to accidentally 'set you off.'"
Fulcrum looked up at him wonder. "But... but that takes skill!"
Misfire scoffed in mock indigence. "I'm offended that you underestimate our abilities. We're not called expropriation specialists for nothing."
Crankcase looked down at Fulcrum with his trademark frown. "Why were you on the D.J.D.'s List?"
Fulcrum simply. "To put it simply? Because I didn't die. During the bombing run of Clemency, when I jumped off the ship, I was so panicked that my T-cog just seized up; I couldn't transform. So... basically my cowardice save my life. Heh, kind of ironic though, since it was my cowardice that got me there in the first place--"
"Yeah, yeah, that's nice," Misfire said flippantly. "So, what do you suppose we do with ol' Trypticon?"
"I can answer that."
All four conscious Scavengers turned to see Trypticon back online, eyeing them with a hint of curiosity.
"Your resistance to the D.J.D., while in vain, was admirable," the giant Decepticon growled. "I see great potential in you. Seeing that I am presently too weak to take on any more of Megatron's lackeys... I require a crew for my ship mode, to keep me in running order and repair me enough so that I may reclaim my throne."
Misfire beamed. "In that case, my friend, you have your crew. Fire up your engines, because we are booking out of here."
"Wait," Fulcrum said. "Aren't we forgetting someone?"
* * *
"A senseless waste. A terrible tragedy. Boo hoo."
"'Boo hoo?'" Fulcrum echoed. "I thought Flywheels was your friend. We're just leaving him here?"
Misfire smacked his forehead. "Of course! What are we thinking?" He immediately dove for Flywheels' remains. "Dibs on the fuel pump."
"Motor relay's mine," Crankcase said.
"Leave the legs for me," Spinister growled.
Fulcrum simply looked on as the Scavengers lived up to their name.
--Messatine--
"Come on, you slaggin' bucket of bolts," Makeshift muttered to the Autobot shuttle he had just hijacked. "What, do you only turn on for Autobots?"
At that moment, the ship came to life. The Decepticon spy then pointed it towards Messatine's sky and shot for the stars.
* * *
"Twenty fourteen."
The solitary Legislator, counterpart tot the two that had been destroyed by the Lost Light, looked down upon the dying form of Pharma, writhing in the snow. From a hidden compartment in its arm, the giant gold mech produced a vial containing the antidote to the virus. After injecting it into Pharma's systems, it gently scooped up the ex-Autobot in its arms.
"Twenty fourteen."
With those two words, the Legislator and its cargo were gone in a flash of light.
TO BE CONTINUED
No comments:
Post a Comment