Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

--Artakha--

    "How many do you see, Darik?"

    The Po-Matoran watchguard grimaced as he looked through his telescope. "At least three dozen Rahkshi... twice as many Visorak... and quite a few Makuta."

    Samuii cursed under his breath. "Rally as much of your Matoran as you can, Hayai, spread the word to the workers. Tell them we'll need as much of their tools as they can provide."

    Hayai nodded and ran off. Once the Ga-Matoran was gone, Darik turned to Samuii with a grave look.

    "Fifteen hundred years was too long of a wait, it seems."

    The Ko-Matoran sighed. "And for us... it wasn't long enough."

*  *  *

    Makuta Bitil watched with baleful eyes as a pair of Rahkshi Guurahk used their Staffs of Disintegration to break down the outer wall of Artakha's stronghold. Matoran in watchtowers up above were firing energy launchers down at the invaders, but many were forced to retreat when the Visorak began launching their Rhotuka spinners.

    Bitil scoffed at them as they ran. How pathetic, he thought, that Artakha relied on Matoran to defend his island. No wonder Kojol's attack had frightened him to the point of such reclusion and secrecy.

    Eventually, the Guurahk had succeeded in bringing down the outer wall. As Rahkshi, Visorak, and Exo-Toa made their charge into the Great Refuge, Bitil activated his Mask of Time Duplication, summoning past and future incarnations of himself.

    The Kanohi Mohtrek was as much a blessing as it was a curse. Here, he would make sure it would fulfill its proper use.

--Stelt--

    Arctur awoke to the sound of a snap.

    The Toa of Gravity jolted up out of bed, suddenly alert. The others were doing the same by the sounds of it, though he could not see them in the pitch-black darkness.

    "So I wasn't the only one who heard that?" he said.

    "Obviously not," Chiara said dryly. "Could we get some light in here?"

    "Already on it," Seldaan said as his hand began to glow with superheated gas, illuminating the room. 

    The five Toa began scouring every inch of the room. At one point Seldaan commented how silly it was of them to overreact like this due to a single, probably insignificant sound. He was promptly silenced by a second snap, louder than the first.

    "Vermin, you think?" Zaria murmured.

    "I don't think so," Orde replied. "Most inns are tidy enough to not attract vermin. No, I think we have some unwanted company."

    The Toa fell silent at the sound of a third snap, this time coming from the door. Gripping her Lightning Spear tightly, Chiara slowly inched towards the door before throwing it open and aiming her spear at the intruder.

    Said intruder was an old Bo-Matoran carrying a bowl full of bula berries.

    "Um... room service?" the Matoran of Plant Life said weakly.

    All five Toa stared at him, some blankly, others with their mouths agape. Breaking the awkward silence, Zaria said, "Er, none of us requested any room service."

    "Oh? That's too bad."

    Suddenly, before the Toa's eyes, the Bo-Matoran began to change shape, eventually forming into a tall, fearsome figure armed with a Rhotuka launcher. The being flashed them a dangerous grin.

    "Consider it free of charge then."

*  *  *

    "What was that?" Lesovikk asked, turning at the sound of thumping.

    "Probably just rowdy guests," Forron said with a shrug. "I'll send someone to deal with it."

    "It came from our room," the Toa of Air said, rising from his seat. "I'd better check on them."

    "I'm sure it's nothing."

    "Regardless, it's getting late, so I'd better turn myself in for the night."

    Forron sighed. "I'm sorry, then."

    Lesovikk turned to look at him. "What for--?"

    The Toa of Air was cut off as a wheel of energy struck him square in the chest. He fell down to the floor, completely paralyzed.

    As he laid there, he heard Forron say, "Apologies, old friend. It's nothing personal, but when the Dark Hunters are in town, you have to put your widgets on the side that's going to win."

    Lesovikk struggled to get up but such attempts were in vain. The sound of another Rhotuka hissed in his ear.

    "And, I'm sad to say, that just isn't you."

    He saw another wheel of light shoot towards him before he was consumed by darkness.

--Destral--

    "Makuta Tridax!" A black and red Shadow Matoran came rushing up to the Makuta of Nynrah, waving his arms frantically. "Unidentified ships approaching!"

    Tridax glanced at the Matoran before looking out to the sea. In the distance, he could see a trio of ships headed towards the island. None of them appeared to be armed, but their passengers certainly were if the sword-wielding, nine-foot-tall Tirivon at the lead ship's helm was any indication.

    Turning to a group of Rahkshi awaiting orders, Tridax said, "Take care of them, will you?"

    The Rahkshi screeched in acknowledgment as they converted to their flight position and took for the ships. Tridax turned his back to return his focus to the invasion... only for something sharp to slash across his back.

    Eyes widening, Tridax spun around to see the Tirivon standing behind him, a sparkling blade jutting from his arm.

    "You," the Makuta snarled. "How did you--"

    The Tirivon said nothing as he lunged at Tridax, swinging his blade to behead him. The Makuta of Nynrah dodged the attack before retaliating with his acid spear. The weapon's tip grazed the Tirivon's side and his armor began to dissolve.

    Unfazed by this, the Tirivon met Tridax's eye. "At least we're even now."

    The Makuta sneered at him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

    His opponent responded by slashing at Tridax's abdomen with his blade, creating a gash in his armor. As his Antidermis energies began to leak out, Tridax panicked and was about to attack again until the Tirivon grabbed a hold of his mask and tore it off, allowing all of his essence to pour out.

    The Tirivon paid no further heed to it, for at that moment, the ships carrying his followers arrived at Destral's shores, having easily dealt with the Rahkshi. From one of the vessels came Fortaan, carrying the Kanohi Olmak they had acquired on Voya Nui.

    "Shall we strike Artakha now, my liege?" the Ankorian asked.

    "Not yet," Mallake said. "We must deal with the nuisance here first. You and the others deal with the forces here. I shall handle their commander."

    Fortaan nodded in assent as his master used his mask power to travel through shadows, slowly making his way for the central fortress.

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

--At sea--

    "So... why aren't you female?"

    Orde saw the question coming from a mile away and didn't need mind reading abilities to know that Chiara would ask it. The others were either giving the Toa of Lightning appalled looks or taking interest in something besides the awkward conversation.

    "Stars alive, Chiara," Arctur murmured. "You can't just ask someone why they aren't female."

    "All Psionics Matoran, Toa, and Turaga are female," Chiara said, undeterred while keeping her eyes on Orde. "But you're male. Why?"

    "Chiara, you might want to just leave him be," Zaria whispered to her. "It might be a touchy subject for him."

    "No, Zaria, it's fine," Orde said. "I've been asked this enough times that it's no longer a big deal."

    Meeting Chiara's eyes, the Toa of Psionics then said, "I was never born as a Matoran. I was one of the first Toa ever created and the first task given to me was to test my powers on the Zyglak."

    Chiara slowly nodded. "That's when you agitated them further...."

    "Correct. I was aggressive with m powers and pushed them over the edge. After that fiasco, all Ce-Matoran were created female, probably to achieve a gentler touch."

    "You've obviously never met a female Skakdi," Seldaan said. "They make the Makuta look nice."

    "Hey, like I said, that's just my guess. I could very well be wrong."

    Zaria glanced from Orde to Lesovikk at the helm. If the Toa of Air had overheard any of the conversation, he did not show it.

    "So," the Toa of Iron whispered, "does that kind of make you... indirectly responsible for his team's demise?"

    Orde sighed, hanging his head. "It's hardly something I'm proud of...."

    The Toa's vessel continued to traverse the Silver Sea in silence. After several hours had passed and night was beginning to fall, Lesovikk turned to address his crew.

    "We'll be making a stop at Stelt to spend the rest of the night," he told them. "I have a Fa-Matoran accomplice there who'll provide for us."

    "Stelt, eh?" Seldaan smirked. "I've been there before. Hope the place we're staying at doesn't get knocked down by jealous neighbors."

    "My friend runs an inn which are safe from the ruling class' disputes," Lesovikk said. "As long as you don't make any deals with the locals, we should be good."

    "Ah, but we're Toa, aren't we?" Zaria said. "Wherever we go, danger is usually not far behind."

--Artakha--

    The Ga-Matoran ran as fast as her small legs could carry her, her footsteps echoing throughout the corridors of the fortress. She hated having to abandon her work-- it was her life, after all-- but if word of what was coming didn't get to certain beings' ears soon, she would shortly be deprived of such work.

    "Hayai!"

    The Matoran of Water skidded to a halt as soon as she had reached her destination. Two Matoran stood guard at the large door which she had been headed for. One of them, a Ko-Matoran, gave Hayai a stern look.

    "And just what gives you the allowance to run through the esteemed Artakha's fortress like a Le-Matoran at a playground?"

    Catching her breath, Hayai gave the Ko-Matoran a sharp look. "How about the fact that we're about to be invaded?"

    The Ko-Matoran guard shared a glance with his partner, a Matoran of Earth. The latter then looked at Hayai with a look of disapproval.

    "Neither of us has time for your nonsense, Hayai. You know as well as anyone that no one in the universe knows the Great Refuge's location."

    "Tell that to the Rahkshi and Makuta starting to wash ashore."

    Eyes wide, the guards looked at each other again, this time in genuine alarm. Then, the Ko-Matoran said, "I'll sound the alarms. Tiber, you alert the master."

    As the Onu-Matoran entered Artakha's chambers, the Ko-Matoran beckoned for Hayai to follow him.

    "We need to get our defenses back up," he said. "Did you see if it's a single fleet we're dealing with?"

    "Try the entire Brotherhood," she murmured.

--Destral--

    "The invasion is underway," Makuta Tridax said to Icarax, standing in the throne room with fellow Makuta Antroz, Gorast, and Chirox. "If only Kojol was still around; I would have loved to see his face when he saw us succeed where he failed."

    "I still don't like this," Gorast hissed. "The repercussions of Kojol's raid were... intimidating enough. If we lose here, what will it mean for our entire race?"

    Icarax scoffed, dismissing his sister's fear with a wave of the hand. "It's not like Mata Nui can strike us with lightning now."

    Gorast sneered. "I wasn't referring to Mata Nui."

    All five Makuta looked over to the large vat in the corner of the room, the essence of Makuta Teridax floating within. Despite being a gaseous cloud of green, they could still feel the anger radiation from him.

    "Unnerving, isn't it?" Chirox commented. "Having him in the same room as us, yet not taking part in the conversation. Watching us, waiting...."

    Icarax merely sniffed as he turned his back to the vat. "I don't see what you're worried about, Gorast. Invading Artakha hardly affects the Plan in any way. In fact, it might just give us an advantage."

    "How so?" Antroz asked, a skeptical look on his mask.

    Icarax smirked. "Think about it: Artakha is supposed to be as old as the stars themselves, perhaps even as old as Mata Nui. The secrets he must have... they would be valuable to our building empire."

    "And you think it'll be that easy to pry the secrets from his head?" Chirox asked.

    "I never said it would be easy. But I'm sure it's possible."

    "It's all a matter of capturing him, though," Tridax muttered.

    "I'll leave that task to you, brother," Icarax said as he seated himself on his throne. "Serve me well at this endeavor and I promise that your reward will be grand."

    While the Makuta of Nynrah was visible pleased by this, Antroz and the others scowled silently. As they were dismissed from the throne room, Antroz spared one last glance at the vat containing Teridax's essence, vowing to himself that Icarax would not be sitting on the throne for much longer.

--Stelt--

    "I can't thank you enough for your hospitality, Forron, especially on such short notice this late at night."

    "Eh, business is business," the Fa-Matoran said as he passed a cup of liquid Protodermis to Lesovikk. "Though I'll admit, I was surprised to see you with other Toa. What happened to the whole 'don't-call-me-a-Toa' thing?"

    Lesovikk grimaced as he sipped his beverage. "It was something I was talked into."

    "Given an offer you couldn't refuse?"

    "Something like that."

    Silence fell between the two for a moment. The rest of the Toa Tenebrae had retired to their rooms and the streets outside were quiet for the most part, though Lesovikk could swear he heard some sort of brawl going on.

    After a moment, Forron said, "It's Karzahni, isn't it?"

    "Was it that obvious?"

    "What else could it be? Last time I saw you, you were bent on tracking down Karzahni and getting payback for what he had done to your friends."

    "Our friends. You knew Sarda and Idris as well as I did."

    Forron shook his head. "No. Not as well as you did. I was just a trader passing through and they happened to be frequent customers. But I understand how you feel; if it were me, I'd be ticked at my Turaga for shipping all of my friends to a lunatic like Karzahni, and even more so at Karzahni himself for making such shoddy 'repairs'... but that doesn't mean he deserves execution."

    "What makes you think I want to kill him?"

    "I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You have all of this anger bottled up within you: anger at the Zyglak for slaughtering your teammates; anger at Turaga Orlan for sending Sarda, Idris, and everyone to that forsaken land; anger at Karzahni for making their lives even more miserable. You're mere inches away from going over the edge."

    Lesovikk sighed. "Okay, you're right; I want to see Karzahni dead. My orders were to simply turn him in, but... I'm not sure if I would be able to restrain myself."

    "In that case, ask yourself this: if she was still alive... what would Nikila want you to do?"

    The Toa of Air stiffened. "Why her?"

    "Because when it comes down to it," Forron said, "she was all that ever really mattered to you."

    Lesovikk was silent for a long time. 

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

--Daxia--

    "So. You're the survivor."

    Lesovikk turned away briefly from packing the Toa Tenebrae's boat with supplies to glance at one of his new teammates. He had not taken the time yet to learn each member's names, preferring to take the time to know them first. The one he was speaking to now was a purple and black Toa of Gravity, wearing an ebony mask of a design he did not recognize.

    "Yes," he muttered, returning to his work. "I am."

    The Toa of Gravity seated himself on a nearby crate and studied Lesovikk carefully. "As a Matoran, I was a bit of a historian-- a self-proclaimed Chronicler, if you would. I traveled from island to island, looking for information on famous heroes like the Toa Valmai and the Toa Dagor. But the one that always eluded me... were the Toa Cordak."

    Lesovikk snorted. "You wouldn't have found much. We lasted no longer than half a year before we were slaughtered by Zyglak."

    "But you held the distinction of being the first Toa team ever assembled. That's a Protosteel mine for historical facts! Like, how did you first meet? Who gave you your Toa stones? How well did you work together?"

    Lesovikk sighed. "It's a subject I'm not comfortable talking about."

    The other Toa's face fell. "Oh. Okay. No problem. I... I understand. I'm sorry if I hit a nerve, I was just--"

    "It's fine. Go join the others; we'll be setting off soon."

    The Toa of Gravity nodded silently as he left to board the ship. Lesovikk then picked up the crate he had been sitting on and loaded it onto their vessel.

*  *  *

    "You shouldn't have bothered him like that, Arctur."

    The violet-armored Toa sighed as he sat down next to two of his teammates, one a Toa of Psionics, the other one of Plasma. "I know, Zaria, I know. I guess I just wasn't thinking straight."

    The Toa of Iron across from him smirked. "You never do."

    "I take it you two have worked together before?" asked a Lightning Toa sitting next to Zaria.

    Arctur opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the Psionics Toa. "Yes, they worked together on a Toa team that operated at Xia."

    Arctur scowled at him. "Nice mind reading powers. Now do me a favor and keep out of my head."

    "Well, since we're gonna be stuck here on this stupid mission, we might as well take the time to know each other." The Toa of Lightning leaned forward in her seat. "My name is Chiara. The Makuta have put a price on my head for killing fifty of their Visorak."

    "Arctur. Looted from Vortixx and sold their items on the black market."

    "Seldaan," the Toa of Plasma said. "Killed a Skakdi for murdering the Turaga of my homeland."

    "Zaria. I killed a Makuta."

    The others stared at the Toa of Iron incredulously, though the Psionics Toa looked considerably less surprised.

    "Seriously?" Chiara said. "How did you manage to do that?"

    "Well, they're pretty much all armor, so I just used my powers and... yeah." Zaria coughed awkwardly. "Now you know why there aren't too many Toa of Iron in the universe; the Makuta aren't all too fond of them."

    "Wow," Arctur murmured. "I never knew that about you." Clearing his throat, he then turned to the Toa of Psionics. "And you, mind reader?"

    The gold and blue warrior shifted in his seat. "Orde. I... agitated some Zyglak and... made them angrier than usual."

    "Ooh, better not let our leader hear about that," Seldaan chuckled. "You know how he is about Zyglak--"

    "Shut up." Orde nudged him hard with his elbow. "He's right behind us."

    "How can you--" Seldaan turned around and looked up. His expression fell when he saw Lesovikk standing over him. "Oh."

    The Toa of Air glared down at him but said nothing as he stepped onto the boat. Standing at the bow, he turned to address his new team.

    "You all know who I am," he said. "Lesovikk, leader of the Toa Cordak and their sole surviving member. I don't know who any of you are-- yet, anyway-- but I'd rather not waste time with introductions. We have a tyrant to capture, and you must know that he is insane and evil and will not be an easy target--"

    "We know," Orde said dryly. "Or at least, I know. I'm pretty sure everyone else does, too."

    Lesovikk massaged his forehead. "Whatever. Let's just go."

    This is going to be a long journey....

--Tren Krom Peninsula--

    "The messenger has arrived."

    Flanked by Fortaan and Banteras, Mallake stepped out of the mountain cave that served as the Hand of Artakha's base of operations. In the sky above was a large bird-like Rahi with mighty wings. In the clutches of its talons was a black and white Matoran of a hideous design, holding a stone tablet.

    Once the Nivawk had dropped the Matoran off before the gathered Hand members, he walked up to Mallake, shaking nervously.

    "Um, greetings, Lord Mallake. I am, er, Kanan, messenger of Makuta Krika."

    Mallake glared down at him. "I was expecting Krika himself to come."

    Kanan cleared his throat. "Yes, well, he's rather busy and it can be difficult for him to spare the time to personally visit you-- even more so since he's not really supposed to be in contact with--"

    "Enough," Mallake interjected. "What news have you brought to us?"

    "The... the Brotherhood of Makuta are sending their forces to Artakha. Makuta Krika tells me that they've found a tablet that leads to the Great Refuge--"

    Mallake's eyes flared and he was suddenly holding the Matoran by the neck, lifting him up from the ground. "Where did they find it?" he snarled.

    "Akk! Here... on the Peninsula, in a-- in a De-Matoran... village!"

    "That would explain the ships I spotted on my scout mission earlier," said Banteras. "They were already headed for the mainland when I reached them. They left behind quite a few corpses...."

    Mallake's grip lessened as he released Kanan, but his anger did not. "One of the villagers there must have betrayed his trust."

    "Er... beg your pardon, my liege?" Kanan said meekly.

    Mallake dismissed him with a sharp wave of the hand. "Run back to your master. You are no longer needed here."

    Kanan hastily bowed before returning to his Nivawk ride. As the Rahi bird flew off with the Matoran, Mallake turned to address his subordinates.

    "Prepare whatever vessels we have. We're making a premature visit to the Great Refuge."

--Destral--

    "Transportation is successful, master. We have arrived."

    "Excellent." Makuta Tridax waved off his Shadow Matoran servant as he stepped out of the Brotherhood fortress. 

    Off the coast of Destral, he could spot the island of Artakha, surpassing the Makuta homeland in size and technology. Whereas Destral had a more industrial look to it, Artakha was more streamlined and efficient, mirroring Metru Nui in terms of architecture.

    Redirecting his attention to the Rahkshi and Visorak awaiting forces, Tridax allowed himself a cruel smirk as he spread his arms.

    "Let the invasion... begin!"

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--Destral--

    "You knew this was coming."

    Sidorak screamed as he laid on the stone floor, clutching his head in pain-- which he was imagining. Makuta Icarax regarded him with cold disdain as he used his fear powers mentally on the Steltan.

    "Still, I admire your courage-- what little you have, that is-- and I do understand that the decision you made in retreating was a logical one. Unfortunately, having one of our own die inadvertently at your actions is something we Makuta do not take kindly."

    "It-- it wasn't my fault!" Sidorak cried. "I had no idea we would be attacked--"

    Regardless of the circumstances, the results are the same: Makuta Nathuz is dead. The Northern Continent is lost. And thus is your punishment."

    Sidorak started screaming again as a pair of Rahkshi came in to carry off to the dungeons. As Icarax returned to his throne, a figure stepped out of the shadows of the throne room, having waited his chance for an audience with the regent.

    "While Sidorak and his horde may have failed," Makuta Antroz said, "it may interest you to know that his Viceroy succeeded in procuring this."

    He held up a stone tablet and Icarax took it with mild interest. The Makuta of Karzahni began to scan its contents, his eyes widening each time they went over it.

    "Is this... what I think it is?"

    Antroz nodded. "A map to Artakha."

    "Impossible," Icarax murmured. "I thought they had all been destroyed. Kojol was even executed."

    "Apparently they weren't as thorough as they though."

    Icarax could hardly believe it, yet at the same time he was very pleased. A smile grew on his mask as he said, "How did Sidorak's Viceroy managed to obtain this?"

    "Trade secret," Antroz said. "Though I don't suppose it really matters, does it?"

    "No, not at all." Meeting his fellow Makuta's gaze, Icarax said, "Tell Tridax to prepare the teleportation device. We are going to pay a certain legend a visit."

*  *  *

    His dreams were dark. They always were; always had been, ever since that day....

    There he was on that island-- that desolate island he could never recall the name of. So many of his teammates were dead and those wretched creatures were standing over them triumphantly.

    He looked down to the person he cradled in his arms, a corrosive wound on her chest that was beginning to spread throughout her entire body. The lights of her eyes dimming, she raised a hand to his mask and touched it.

    "It's not your fault," she whispered to him. "It's not your fault...."

    He almost believed her.

    Her heartlight went out and she was dead. The Zyglak were closing in, their acidic spears brandished. Anger pulsed in his chest. He began gathering up all of his energy, absorbing as much of it as he could contain, before unleashing it in a destructive wave....

*  *  *

    Lesovikk awoke with a scream, panting heavily. Once he had calmed down, he cleared his eyes of bleariness and looked around to observe his surroundings. He was in a dark, stone chamber devoid of any furniture, save for the slab of rock which he laid on. Across the room was an iron door, which suddenly swung open not long after he noticed it.

    Standing in the doorway, nearly filling the entire frame, was a four-armed giant clad in gold armor. Folding his upper set of arms, the being said, "You're awake."

    "And you're observant," Lesovikk replied. "Can you tell me where I am?"

    "No," the being grunted before motioning with his head. "Come. You are needed."

    Left with no option, Lesovikk got up and followed the stranger out of the chamber. They went through a bizarre system of corridors, no doubt deliberately designed to make it hard for newcomers to navigate. They eventually reached another iron door, guarded by two heavily armored beings who allowed them entrance.

    As the door closed behind them, Lesovikk and his escort were plunged into darkness. That soon changed when two torches lit up, revealing three beings standing before them. One of them was a female Toa older than any Lesovikk had ever met, bearing scarred and pitted blue armor.

    "Toa Lesovikk, I presume?" she said to him in a voice that could freeze a furnace.

    "Not 'Toa,'" he bitterly replied. "Not anymore. Not after what I've done."

    "Yes, we are well aware of your actions. Normally, a Toa who had broken the code would have been sent to the Pit. But we have made an exception for you."

    "Why?"

    "Because unlike those other Toa, you have not truly fallen off the path Mata Nui set you on," she replied. "You may not think that, of course, and you may continue to deny it. But I believe you are out for redemption."

    "Revenge is what I'm after," Lesovikk muttered.

    "Sometimes the two go hand-in-hand. How would you like for a chance to fulfill both?"

    Lesovikk tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

    "It just so happens that we need Karzahni-- the object of your vengeance-- for the knowledge he has on his brother Artakha. If you help us in capturing him, your record will be wiped clean."

    The Toa of Air considered the offer. Though he doubt he would ever consider himself a full-fledged Toa, even after performing this task, it was one he did not wish to back out on; after so many failed attempts to enter Karzahni's realm, this was his chance to finally do so.

    "I accept," he firmly said. "When do I leave?"

    "Oh, you won't be doing this alone," she said. "After all, you're not the only Toa striving for redemption."

    Lesovikk frowned, knowing where this was going. "I'm not leading another team of Toa again. The last time I did, all of my comrades died."

    "I know. Which is why this is your chance to set things right this time." She turned to one of the beings standing next to her and gave the giant titan a nod. "Bring them in."

    The titan was gone in a flash before returning in a similar fashion, this time accompanied by five other Toa.

    "Lesovikk, meet the Toa Tenebrae," the ancient Toa said. "All six of you have swayed towards the path of darkness, whether by violating the Toa Code or utilizing unorthodox methods that straddle the line or simply because the universe hates you for some reason. You have all been offered a chance to redeem yourselves. If you succeed, then consider yourselves vindicated. If you don't... well, you probably would have ended up in prison anyway."

*  *  *

    Krakua had long decided that today was not a good day.

    He had not gotten far from the Northern Continent before his boat was taken by a winged being. He was then promptly knocked out only to wake up in a dark chamber. A being in silver and red had then greeted him and questioned him on the tablet Darrus had given him-- just like the Makuta had. He gave the same answered he had then and, much to his relief, was not executed.

    He was still frightened nonetheless. There was nothing he wished more than to be back in a cozy hut, returning to his daily life. But with De-Koro gone, he knew that was not to be.

    He had no idea how much time had passed, but when the door opened again, it was a winged female who entered-- the same being who had knocked him out. As such, he instinctively backed up against the wall.

    "Don't worry," she said in a soothing tone. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm sorry I had to knock you out, but I was only following orders."

    "What do you want from me?" Krakua asked, trembling slightly. "I've already told you about that cursed tablet. I don't have anything else to give you-- not even a home."

    "Daxia can be your home," she told him. "That is, if you're willing to accept my offer."

    "What could you possibly give me?"

    "A new life. A better life." She offered him her hand. "I know you have potential, Krakua. We can help you realize it."

    Krakua stared at her for a moment. Then, after some contemplation, he took her hand.

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

    Disregarding the sounds of battle outside, Roodaka busied herself about the tent, making sure she had everything before she left: Catcher Claws, Rhotuka launcher, the tablet....

    She had not been planning on abandoning Sidorak this early on, especially after being made Viceroy of the Visorak Horde, but with the discovery of this map to Artakha, she could now ditch the arrogant airhead and earn herself a higher rank in the Brotherhood's hierarchy... perhaps even become a lieutenant to Makuta Teridax himself.

    At the sound of scuttling feet, Roodaka turned to see a lonesome Keelerak enter the tent. She knew this particular Visorak was a personal favorite of Sidorak's and had even earned itself a personal name: Kollorak.

    Roodaka looked down at the Keelerak with disdain, wondering what it was doing away from the rest of the horde. Then, it dawned on her.

    "Sidorak sent you to find me, didn't he?"

    Kollorak hissed an affirmation in its native tongue, which Roodaka had come to understand over the past few centuries.

    The Vortixx's blue eyes narrowed. "Is he concerned for my well-being? If so, tell him not to fret; I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

    The green spider clicked its mandibles together fiercely, glaring at her in irritation.

    Roodaka laughed heartlessly. "Why am I not taking part in the battle? Because, vermin, I have things better worth my time. You and your kind do not need my help to get rid of these intruders."

    Kollorak shrieked in objection. In response, Roodaka slammed her foot down on the Visorak's carapace, shoving it into the ground.

    "Listen here, bug," she hissed. "As long as I'm Viceroy, you do not question my actions. Instead, you obey the orders given to you and keep your filthy pincers out of others' business. Are we clear?"

    Kollorak managed a whiny assent.

    "Good." She removed her foot from the spider's shell. "Now get out of my sight and return to the battle. Sidorak is probably missing you more than he does me."

    The Keelerak grunted before picking itself up and leaving the tent. Left alone once again, Roodaka continued preparation for her leave.

*  *  *

    Trinuma moved quickly to avoid the Shadow Hand's grasp. Diving to the side, he aimed his blaster and fired a rocket at the Makuta. Retracting the Shadow Hand back into his chest, Nathuz activated his mask power, repelling the projectile away from him and sending it to the ground at Trinuma's feet. The following explosion sent the Tirivon flying.

    After landing hard on his back, Trinuma quickly regained his stance just as a Visorak Oohnorak lunged at him. He easily bashed it aside with his shield before charging towards Nathuz. The Makuta of Stelt easily brought him down with his gravity powers.

    "I have absolutely no idea who you are or who you think you are, invading our territory," Nathuz growled, "but I am going to destroy you."

    Trinuma simply smirked at him. "Good luck with that."

    A look of bafflement crossed the Makuta's mask, which was soon replaced by shock as a Protosteel dagger suddenly went into his back. As Nathuz crumpled to his knees, Antidermis energies leaking from the newly-made crevice in his armor, Tobduk approached him from behind.

    "It's never a wise idea to have your back turned to me," the Korvis warrior growled as he held his staff aloft. "You never know what you might find in it."

    He then brought the staff down, releasing a blast of energy from it. In mere seconds, the Makuta was obliterated.

    As he was pulled to his feet by the taller being, Trinuma said to Tobduk, "Think this will give Sidorak and his pets second thoughts about fighting us?"

    The moment he said this, a Rhotuka spinner zipped past his head.

    Tobduk snorted. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

*  *  *

    Krakua ran as fast as his small legs could carry him. He wasn't sure if he should have been grateful for this timely attack or scared for his life, but he would not be able to decide while standing in a battlefield. 

    Luckily for him, the Visorak had not paid him much heed so far, instead focusing their efforts on the two large beings who had just executed his Makuta interrogators. This left him free to take one of the boats the Brotherhood forces had arrived in.

    The farthest he got was the shoreline where the boats and ships were docked. What-- or rather, who he found there was enough to bring him to a halt.

    Clad in green armor, the Toa warrior stood on the shore, armed with a razor-edged blade and a six-barreled blaster. The grim expression on their Kanohi Faxon left Krakua unsure whether he should have been relieved or afraid.

    Catching the De-Matoran's gaze, the Toa of Air gave him a curt nod of greeting. "Hello there. Are you a villager here?"

    "Y-yes, but not for much longer," Krakua said nervously. "Wh-why are you here, mighty Toa?"

    "I'm searching for someone called Amath. Do you know anyone by that name?"

    "N-no, I don't. If they're a villager though, I'm sure they're already dead; the Visorak have massacred everyone in De-Koro."

    The Toa grimaced. "Ah, so that explains the massive ships. Well then, thank you for your time, villager. If I were you, I'd get as far away from here as possible."

    Krakua nodded. "Yes, Toa--"

    "Don't call me by that title," was the sharp reply. "My name is simply Lesovikk. No one has called me Toa in a very long time."

    With that, the green warrior headed for the village, pure vengeance on his mind.

*  *  *

    Sidorak was not liking his chances.

    Makuta Nathuz had been killed, Roodaka was still missing, and his Visorak horde had been decimated so far. And it was all thanks to two barbaric titans, their reasons for fighting against the Brotherhood a complete mystery to him.

    Although he was no coward, Sidorak was also no fool. He knew that there would be no victory in this battle, especially with Nathuz dead, and there would be no honor in throwing away his life instead of facing the other Makuta's wrathful disappointment.

    Raising his Herding Blade, he sent out a summons to the Visorak and in an instant, the hordes were turning their backs on the battle and returning to him. At his beckoning, the spider Rahi piled back onto the ships which they had arrived in. After giving the command for the ships to leave the shore, Sidorak gave the two titans one last look before departing for his own vessel.

*  *  *

    Tobduk grunted out of disappointment as he watched the Brotherhood forces flee. "Just when I was starting to enjoy this, too."

    Trinuma slapped him on the back, an act which would have earned him a swift death had he been anyone else. "Keep your chin up, my friend. There'll be more after this, trust me."

    "Excuse me."

    The two titans turned to see a Toa of Air standing before them, clad in lime-green armor and with a Great Mask of Kindred on his face.

    "I'm here to meet someone called Amath," Lesovikk said. "Do you happen to know him?"

    Trinuma exchanged a knowing look with Tobduk before nodding at the Toa. "Indeed we do."

    At that, the Toa of Air suddenly lurched forward as something invisible struck him in the back of the head. He then fell to the unceremoniously to the ground.

    "I love doing that," Jerbraz said.

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta III, Prologue and Chapter One

BIONICLE ALTERNATIVES: EMPIRE OF MAKUTA

Volume III: The Hand of Artakha

PROLOGUE

    These days, venturing out to sea was not the wisest thing to do. The Brotherhood of Makuta were conquering lands one by one, Dark Hunters were plundering ships that came anywhere near their waters, and storms were becoming more common with the fall of Mata Nui.

    None of these things concerned the solitary Toa that wandered the Silver Sea. He had braved several terrors in his life; few things could be worse than most of them. As such, he was aware of the risk he was taking by striding into the land of Xia without a passport.

    He had not made it far into the main industrial sector before three native Vortixx accosted him. Two of them-- both male-- grabbed him by the shoulders while the sole female of the group came forward to address him.

    "You are bold, even for a Toa," she hissed. "You may think you're high and mighty just because you're the defenders of Mata Nui's precious Matoran, but even the Great Spirit himself would need a passport to enter here."

    The Toa stared back at her, not the least bit intimidated. "I apologize for being an intrusion. Will you accept my business as compensation for lack of passport?"

    The Vortixx sneered at him. "What business would a Toa have here in Xia?"

    "I'm not what you'd consider an average Toa," he said darkly. "In fact, I've long since abandoned the title."

    The Vortixx regarded him carefully before saying, "Is that right? What is it you wish to procure then?"

    "Weapons. The most efficient you've got."

    The black-armored titan smirked. "Efficiency is a requirement for all Xian inventions. Come; I shall show you our inventory."

    He was led by the three Vortixx to a workshop owned by the female. Inside, he found a wide array of weapons and tools resting on the shelves, ranging from blades to blasters.

    "The Hagah Plasma Cannon can certainly pack a punch, even if it is a bit unwieldy," the Vortixx said, gesturing to a large yellow and purple turret. She reached into a metal crate and brought out a gangly bladed arm attachment. "The Energy Siphon Blade; now this is a tool that can be incredibly useful when fighting other Toa. Then there's the Vortixx Rhotuka Battle Axe and... ah."

    From one of the shelves, she brought down a six-barreled gatling gun, loaded with six red mini-rockets.

    "The Cordak Blaster. Fires explosives rockets. And when I say explosive, I mean extremely."

    "Cordak, you say?" A dark expression crossed the Toa's lime green mask. "How many widgets?"

    The Vortixx scoffed. "Those pathetic things are worthless here. I am open to a trade, though. Have you anything valuable on your person?"

    "Only my Kanohi mask and my sword, neither which I'm willing to part with."

    She shrugged. "Too bad. I guess you will be leaving empty-handed then."

    "I beg to differ."

    Moving quickly, the Toa released a gust of wind from his palm, knocking the Vortixx off-balance and causing her to drop the Cordak Blaster. He quickly dived for the weapon and swung it at the other Vortixx, knocking them out cold. He then bolted out of the workshop, already hearing alarms ringing and orders being shouted out. He did not worry about either.

    His name was Lesovikk. And revenge was all he sought.

CHAPTER ONE
--The Northern Continent--

    "Thank you for coming here on such short notice, my liege."

    "This had better be worth my time, Sidorak," growled Makuta Nathuz as he stepped off of the Brotherhood ship. Clad in silver and red armor, the Makuta of Stelt was considerably taller than Sidorak, but most of that height was lost in Nathuz's hunched-over position. Scarlet eyes gleamed behind his silver mask, striking fear in the hearts of many. Having been long in the Makuta's service, Sidorak was not among the many.

    "I assure you that it will, my liege," the Steltan said as the two began to walk side by side. "My forces have found something that may interest you."

    "Where at, and how did it escape destruction?"

    "It was found in a De-Matoran village. Roodaka was present for the invasion and, needless to say, it caught her eye."

    "Show it to me."

    Sidorak led Nathuz to the Brotherhood campsite, where the Visorak Horde and other servants of the Makuta were preparing for their next raid. Entering the main tent, the two of them found the Vortixx Viceroy Roodaka standing at a table. Place on top of it was the item they had discovered: a stone fragment with the details of a map sculpted in.

    Nathuz tilted his head, eying the tablet skeptically. "Is that a map of... oh, Great Beings, it cannot be."

    Roodaka was smirking. "The writing below it says it all. This is a map to Artakha, the Great Refuge."

    The Makuta of Stelt shook his head, not ready to believe this. "It's impossible. Every last map was destroyed after Makuta Kojol's raid. How could this have survived the purge?"

    "We captured the Matoran who was keeping it hidden," Sidorak said, a plotting smile crossing his face. "We were hoping you would be able to get answers out of him."

    Malice glinted in Nathuz's eyes. "Take me to him-- now."

*  *  *

    Krakua sat alone in darkness, humming a soft little tune to himself. It was what he did to keep himself calm, lest he break down into a nervous wreck. All he could think of was what had led him to this predicament.

    A week ago, the leader of De-Koro had begun acting nervously, murmuring to himself while pacing back and forth. Concerned of his well-being, the other villagers had approached him to discern the matter. That was when he snapped.

    Bolting out of his hut, the Matoran of Sonics had dashed through the village, going door to door before finally reaching Krakua's residence. Without a word, the De-Matoran leader thrust a stone tablet into Krakua's arms before fleeing the village. A day later, the Visorak Horde attacked.

    Krakua had stood by while his friends fell to the horde's wrath, helpless to do anything. Had it not been for the tablet which he held, he would have joined them. For that he reason, he despised the object; he would rather have died with his brothers than be forced to live with that haunting memory.

    "You are afraid," a voice suddenly spoke from the darkness, starling Krakua. "And you are angry. That is good. Such emotions are fundamental in life."

    Krakua shot to his feet, searching for the source of the voice. "Who's there?"

    "You are in no position to be asking questions of me, Matoran," the voice snapped. "If you wish to see the light of day again, you will answer my queries. Are we clear on that?"

    The De-Matoran crossed his arms as he reluctantly sat back down. "Yes," he grudgingly replied.

    "Excellent." A dark shape moved in the shadows. Krakua could not make out much details, other than that the being was very tall, more so than a Toa.

    "The tablet that was found in your possession; do you know of its origins?"

    "No," Krakua quietly replied. "It was given to me by the leader of our village, Darrus."

    "Do you know how long he had it?"

    "No. I didn't even know of its existence until he gave it to me."

    The figure shifted again the shadows. This time, Krakua could see a pair of red eyes glaring at him.

    "Did you ever get the chance to examine the tablet before... the horde arrived?"

    "Yes," Krakua murmured. "It looked like a map, but I couldn't tell of what. The writing on it was too archaic for me."

    "Is that right?" the being hissed. "Anything else you care to share about it?"

    The De-Matoran shook his head. "That's all I know."

    "Then you have outlived your usefulness to me." The being finally came into view, revealing a frightening form of silver and red. "I promised you the light of day. Perhaps I should have said oblivion instead."

    A crimson vortex opened up in the Makuta's chest, birthing a mighty hand of shadow. Knowing that there was no escape, Krakua closed his eyes and braced himself for the end.

    "Airships inbound!"

    At the sound of the cry, Krakua's would-be murderer ceased his attack and looked up towards the ceiling. Before either of them knew it, it was quickly torn apart by rockets.

*  *  *

    As he loaded up his Nynrah Ghost Blasters-- modified to launch projectiles instead of simply controlling machines-- Trinuma looked over the balcony of the Muaka's Fang to the land below. Dozens of Visorak were gathered at the Brotherhood campsite, scattering about in alarm upon the airship's clamorous arrival. The commanders of the horde-- Sidorak and Roodaka-- could be seen giving out orders.

    After affixing his blaster to his arm, Trinuma glanced at his combat partner Tobduk. The Korvis assassin-- a good foot taller than Trinuma-- was firmly grasping his staff, white-hot energy burning at its tip and in his eyes.

    Many in the Order were aware of Tobduk's story; years ago, his homeland was invaded by Visorak and his village destroyed. After fleeing to Stelt, Tobduk was recruited by the Order of Mata Nui as an assassin. Since then, he had sworn vengeance on the Visorak and their Makuta creators.

    Trinuma had no doubt his fellow agent was looking forward to the upcoming slaughter.

    Turning towards the cockpit of the airship, the Tirivon saw nothing but a steering wheel turning by itself. He knew that this was not necessarily the case, but it was an amusing sight to behold nonetheless.

    "Jerbraz," he called to the invisible warrior. "We're ready to be dropped off."

    "Are you?" a haughty voice replied. "And what if I'm not ready to drop off?"

    Trinuma smirked. "Then my mask and I may need to do some persuading."

    "We don't have time for this," Tobduk growled. "Just drop us down already."

    "As you wish." Jerbraz suddenly brought the airship into a nose dive, swooping in low enough for its two passengers to jump off.

    Rhotuka spinners were instantly launching off from the Visorak's backs, shooting past the Order agents' heads. As Trinuma fired his Nynrah Ghost Blaster at the spider-like Rahi, Tobduk lunged at a red Vohtarak specimen and impaled the tip of his staff into the Visorak's carapace. A green Keelerak then leaped at him but a dagger thrust into its under-section permanently impeded its assault.

    While Tobduk continued to unleash his anger on the arachnids, Trinuma turned his attention towards a red-armored Steltan, directing his horde from afar. Knowing this being to be the so-called "King" Sidorak, Trinuma took aim with his blaster and fired.

    The projectile never reached its target, for out of nowhere came twin beams of energy, turning the missile to ash. Trinuma spun to see a tall, fearsome being approaching him, eyes burning with hatred.

    "I am terribly sorry," Makuta Nathuz growled, "but I may have to kill you for this intrusion."

    Before Trinuma knew it, a Shadow Hand was shooting out from the Makuta's chest and heading straight for him....

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga XX, Epilogue

EPILOGUE: WHERE WE PART WAYS

    If there was a book on proper etiquette for captains, Rodimus was most likely breaking every rule of it.

    Sitting in the command chair-- his chair-- of the Lost Light, he could not help but feel giddy. He looked around the bridge with a huge, stupid-looking grin on his face, spoke overly cheerful to anyone who spoke to him, and let out whoops and cheers whenever someone gave him a positive systems report. If they saw him now, 'bots like Prime or Prowl would no doubt be face-palming at all of this, but he didn't care.

    He was living his dream.

    As the countdown operator reached "20," Ultra Magnus walked up to Rodimus with a comlink. "It's Elita-One. She wants to have a few words with you."

    "Sure thing!" Rodimus said as he took the communicator. "Hey, Elita! What can I do for you?"

    "I just called to remind you that, even though I was only in command of the Lost Light for a month or two, it's still very much my ship, and if you so much as scratch it on your journey--"

    "Hey, no worries, okay? She's a big girl; she can take a lot."

    "How do you know? Who told you that?"

    Rodimus cleared his throat, figuring it was probably best to not mention that it had been Swerve who told him that. "Uh... I just know my ships. Besides, you did that Terrorcon-killing thing, didn't you?"

    "Yes, but--"

    "Sorry, can't talk now, we're taking off." Rodimus quickly ended the call and handed the comlink back to Magnus. He then gripped the armrests of his chair as he eagerly awaited the end of the countdown.

    "5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

--Nightbeat's datalog--

    Can you believe it's been a thousand years since I last came to this? Seriously; exactly one thousand years ago-- give or take six months-- I was sitting in Maccadam's, trying to write this autobiography when I noticed two Decepticon goons running rampant on the streets. On that same day was the assassination attempt on Sentinel Prime, then the murders and the breakouts and the war... I just could never find the time.

    And the thing is... I find that I'm a different person now than when I first started this datalog thing. Since then, I've seen so many deaths, so many atrocities, and so much... despair. Not only that, but there's my whole connection to the Heralds of Unicron; it may be irrelevant now but it's still a mystery I intend to look into.

    Speaking of mysteries... there's something about this ship, something that strikes me as... I don't know. Like there's more to it than meets the eyes. I asked Nautica and Riptide about it, since they were serving on board before Elita took charge, but they knew not much more than I did. Then there's the matter of their previous captain....

    Of course, those are all things that can wait another day. Right now, it's time to relax and enjoy the peacetime. After all, who knows when the next big war starts.

--Swerve's--

    "Are you gonna order something yet, or are you too busy writing?"

    Nightbeat looked up from his datapad to see Swerve waiting at the counter. With the faintest of smiles, the detective said, "Engex. Strongest you've got."

    Swerve nodded before glancing at Nightbeat's datapad. "Working on a story?"

    "Autobiography, actually."

    "Oh." Swerve then grinned. "Am I in it?"

    Nightbeat smirked. "You'd have to be if I'm going to recount everything."

    "Awesome! I'm going to be a published character! With my own fanbase!"

    "Don't you already have one of those?"

    Swerve scowled at him. "Don't start with me...."

    As the bartender left to prepare Nightbeat's beverage, the detective looked down at what he had originally written. Deciding it easier to simply start again, he began typing.

    It was a night like any other....

THE END

   The quest for the Knights of Cybertron shall continue in THE LOST LIGHT CHRONICLES

   And the post-war life on Cybertron shall be detailed in LEGACY.

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga XX, Chapter Nine

EDITED 5/14/2017 Patched a minor continuity error regarding Rung

9. BREACHES IN SECURITY

--The bridge of the Lost Light--

    "He's a liar... she's been placed in an asylum twice... I arrested him for impersonating a senior officer... I don't trust him ever since that turbofox incident... he owes me money."

    Ultra Magnus' frown deepened as his optics went further down the list.

    "She used to be a Decepticon... I don't trust him or him, especially not in their combined form... he's a wanted arsonist... he disobeyed a traffic sign... and if he's who I think he is, never, ever let him near a crossbow."

    Slouched in the command chair, Rodimus stifled a yawn as he turned to look at Magnus. "All that out of two hundred and nine crew members?"

    "No, those were just the 'A's."

    Rodimus sighed. "I swear, Magnus, you would arrest someone with their badge at an angle if it made you suspicious enough."

    "As a violation of the Military Regalia Act, of course!"

    "What happened to your whole 'loosening up' thing?" Drift asked, standing to the side. "With Tyrest gone, I thought you'd be a little less... strict."

    Magnus folded his arms over his chest. "Old habits die hard, I suppose." He then shot a look of disapproval at Rodimus. "I still don't approve of you allowing Decepticons to sign on."

    "The war's over, Magnus. Our factions are just... they're just symbols we wear now. They don't mean anything more than that. Besides, I've only seen, like, one or two sign up."

    "One Decepticon is one too many, if you ask me."

    Rodimus waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, why else do you think I put Red Alert at the door? He's worse than you are when it comes to trusting people. But he wasn't made director of security for no reason."

    Magnus rolled his eyes but decided it best to drop the subject. "So, any idea where we're going to start?"

    "Well, Drift's found a map--"

    "Don't tell me," Magnus said exasperatedly. "He found it in the stars."

    "Hey," Drift said, "I checked my findings with Perceptor and Rewind and they thought I might have found something. Besides, it's not like you could've done better."

    Magnus simply shook his head. "Forget it. I just hope you know what you're doing, Rodimus."

    "I do. Trust me, I do. Everything will go fine."

--Outside--

    "You're gonna have to let me check your briefcase, Brainstorm."

    "You're joking," the Autobot inventor said. "Don't you have any idea what's in it?"

    "No, which is precisely the point," Red Alert grunted. "I have to check it to make sure you're not smuggling weapons."

    "Weapons? Oh, no, no, no, my friend. Try the end of the world as we know it. Besides...." Brainstorm held up a metal card. "Rodimus has had me exempted from all security checks. See? It's even got a rubsign."

    Red Alert scowled at the card as if it had just insulted his mother. "Fine, you can go on board. But if you do end up opening that briefcase and killing half the crew...."

    Brainstorm chuckled. "Don't worry about that happening."

    As the inventor boarded the ship, Red Alert called on the next person in line. A skinny orange mech came up, carrying a large box.

    As Red Alert read his identity card, the security officer rubbed his chin. "'Rong of the Pious Pools'... I think I know you."

    "It's supposed to be 'Rung,' and I would hope so; not only have we served on this ship together before, but I've also been your psychiatrist."

    "Oh, that's right! I'm sorry I didn't recognize you--"

    "For six centuries."

    "...Right. So, what's in the box?"

    "Trinkets, mainly," Rung said, lifting up the lid for Red Alert to see. "I like to make model ships in my spare time. I've got the Ark, the Steelhaven, the Longbow...."

    "Wait, we've been at war for a thousand years. How did you manage to hold onto all of these?"

    Rung smiled. "I guess I just have a knack for keeping out of harm's--"

    "Incoming!"

    The warning came too late and before Red Alert knew it, both he and Rung were sent tumbling into the ship as a purple fighter crashed into them.

*  *  *

    "Yaaaarghhh!"

    Disoriented as he was, Cyclonus could still hear Whirl's raging screams. Emerging from his alt mode, he looked up ahead to see the blue attack helicopter knifing towards him, guns ablaze.

    Before Cyclonus could make a move, he was held back by a strong head. He looked over his shoulder to see the one he knew as Red Alert, an unpleasant look on the Autobot's face.

    "I told Prime that you would get up to no good once you were free," the officer muttered. "He really should have listened to me."

    Cyclonus sneered at him. "In case you haven't noticed, one of your own is on a mad strafing run. Are you going to take care of him, or are you simply biased towards--"

    Without taking his eyes off Cyclonus, Red Alert raised a gun at Whirl and released a single stun ray. The blue helicopter came crashing down onto the deck.

    "Trust me," Red Alert said darkly. "If I was biased, we would not be speaking right now."

*  *  *

    Rodimus huffed as he paced back and forth on the bridge. He hadn't even begun his first day of captaincy and already he had two unruly crewmates to discipline.

    "Cyclonus, Whirl, you're both better than this. The war's over; there's no reason to keep fighting."

    "Hey, he started it!" Whirl protested, pointing a claw at Cyclonus. "I was just minding my own business, spending some time with my friends, when he barged in and started attacking me!"

    "I did not attack you," Cyclonus snarled. "And those were not your friends, they were Sweeps. Dead Sweeps. I mistook their energy signature for Scourge's, which is why I 'barged' in. Then you set the place aflame and started chasing me. At no point did I attack you or provoke you in any way."

    "It was still your fault. If you hadn't shown up, I wouldn't have set things on fire."

    Rodimus groaned as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You two are acting like sparklings. Look, maybe it's best if you simply forgave and forget. Misunderstandings like this happen all the time, and they're not worth being at each others' throats over. So if I ever catch you two trying to kill each other again--"

    "Wait," Ultra Magnus said, speaking up for the first time. "You're letting them onto the ship?"

    "Why not? I did promise that I would be picking up waifs and strays, didn't I?"

    "Yes, but... you do realize what you're putting up with?"

    Rodimus shrugged. "Consider it me doing Prime a favor. No sense in letting him put up with more trouble."

    "More?"

    "Starscream's his co-leader, remember?"

    Ultra Magnus considered this before giving Rodimus a curt nod. "That is rather considerate of you."

    Rodimus then turned back to Cyclonus and Whirl. "So, yeah, there's your warning. Dismissed; we'll be taking off soon."

    Wordlessly, the two mechs turned and walked off the bridge. Once they were several feet down the corridor, Whirl turned around and offered Cyclonus a claw.

    "Y'know, captain's got a point. That little spat of ours, it was just a stupid little mix-up-- mostly on your part-- so how about we shake and make up, eh?"

    Cyclonus said nothing at first. Then, he grabbed Whirl's claw and pulled the ex-Wrecker into a hug, allowing him to lean in menacingly to the latter's audio receptor.

    "I'm going to kill you," he hissed. "Maybe not today, maybe not for a while, but I will kill you. And don't ever think for a moment that you will see it coming."

    With that, he broke off from the Autobot, who simply regarded him with his single optic before turning and walking away from the ancient warrior.

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga XX, Chapter Eight

8. AUTOBOT IDOL

    "Hello and welcome to the Lost Light Crew Auditions. My name is Swerve, world-class bartender and metallurgist, and these are my colleagues, Crosscut and Riptide."

    The silver and red Autobot sitting to his right gave a half-hearted wave while the blue Hydrobot merely played with his datapad with a look of visible disinterest.

    Clearing his throat, Swerve began his prepared speech: "Anyway, I'll be the first to tell you that tons of people have wanted to join the crew of the Lost Light. Tons. But as you must understand, a ship only has so much room and we can't fit every last Cybertronian on board. So here is where you make your audition; tell us about yourselves and we'll decide if you deserve a role in our extraordinarily awesome quest. 

    "The floor is yours, Ammo. Impress us."

    "Um, right." The blue and yellow Autobot, who lacked any indicator of a second mode, settled himself in the chair opposite the three judges. "My name's Ammo. Ammo of the Attack on K'th Kinsere."

    "That's an unwieldy name," Swerve said. "You're an M.T.O., I take it?"

    "Yup... you're not prejudiced towards constructed cold 'bots, are you?"

    "Of course not! Why, Riptide here is a Made to Order Soldier himself and a very good friend of mine! Isn't that right, Riptide?"

    The Hydrobot merely grunted.

    "So, what can you do, Ammo?" Crosscut asked. "What's your alt mode?"

    "I don't have one," Ammo said. "I'm a monoformer."

    "No worries there!" Swerve said. "We have plenty of monoformers already aboard!"

    "We do?" Crosscut said, bemused.

    "Sure, there's Ambulon--"

    "He turns into a leg."

    "Oh, right. Well, there's Rung--"

    "He does have an alt mode, he just never turns into it."

    "Oh, yeah." Swerve scratched his head. "Well, I'm sure you'd still fit in. Do you have any sort of talent?"

    "Well, I always carry extra ammo on me-- hence my name-- so I can provide them to others while out on the battlefield. Plus, I'm pretty handy with a gun."

    "Excellent! We hope to see on board. Next!"

*  *  *

    "H-hi, sir," the red and white mech said as he entered the room with an anxious expression. "Are you... are you Swerve?"

    "Yeah," the Minibot said, eying the other Autobot skeptically. "I'm pretty sure I just introduced myself. And you are?"

    "C-Clutch." The mech suddenly started biting the tips of his fingers. "Oh my spark, I can't believe this. I'm standing in front of the one and only Swerve!"

    At this, a stunned silence fell over the judges. Crosscut looked between Clutch and Swerve with a bewildered look while Riptide simply watched on in amusement.

    Clearing his throat again, Swerve said, "I... take it you've heard of me?"

    "I'm your biggest fan!"

    Swerve backed up slightly in his seat, as if being pushed away by this outburst. Then, unsure whether or not this was some sort of elaborate prank, he said hesitantly, "Um... you are?"

    "Yes! I've ready everything you've ever written on metallurgy! I study your work every single day!"

    "You do, do you?" Swerve smiled weakly. "Um, if I recall, I've only published one data-log on metallurgy... and that was heavily panned by my colleagues."

    "Oh, I'm not talking about that! I'm talking about your works published in Timeless, like Beauty Is Only Sheen Deep and The Mettle of Metal. Both are frequently read by the Swerve Fan Club."

    "Fan club?!" Swerve exclaimed incredulously. "I have a fan club?!"

    "You sure do!" Clutch eagerly replied. "We're only three in member so far, but I'm sure it'll grow as your popularity increases."

    For once in his life, Swerve found himself speechless, merely staring at his fan with his mouth agape.

    After a long moment of silence, Crosscut nodded to Clutch. "We'll be seeing you on board, Clutch."

    The ecstatic Autobot let out a cheer as he excitedly ran off, still leaving a shocked Swerve in his wake. It was up to Riptide to say, "Next!"

*  *  *

    "Powerglide," the tall red Autobot flier introduced himself as he seated himself (rather uncomfortably) in the small chair. "You could say I'm something of a daredevil. The Aerialbots rejected my application twice-- and they've already got Air Raid! I guess you could say I'm too good for them, heh."

    "Uh-huh." Swerve looked Powerglide up and down before shaking his head. "Sorry, sir, but you're too tall."

    "Excuse me?"

    "You're too tall. I'm not sure if there are any habitation suits big enough to accommodate your size."

    "You're joking, right? Ultra Magnus is as big as me-- maybe even bigger-- and he's second-in-command!"

    "Yeah, well, he's also Ultra Magnus, so there. Next!"

    However, before the next Autobot could walk in, a voice called out, "You are being deceived!"

    All three judges looked in surprise to see Nightbeat storming into the room, waving his arms wildly like a fervent agitator. He quickly dropped the act before smirking.

    "This is all a prank by Swerve," the detective said to Powerglide and those waiting outside. "Come on, do you really think we'd turn down someone for being 'too tall?'"

    Swerve scowled at him. "I'm sure plenty of ships have done that! Is that all it takes to tell you it's a prank?"

    "Well, there's that... plus the fact that you're involved... and also because there is no way in Pit would Ultra Magnus allow something like this be called 'Crew Auditions,' let alone...."

    He then pointed to a sign right next to the door. It read "Crewditions."

    At this, most of the Autobots started to walk away, muttering under their breaths. Finding himself rendered speechless yet again, Swerve could only scowl at the detective.

    "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

    Nightbeat simply grinned at him.

--Later--

    "Did you succeed in getting on board?"

    "Yes, sir," a voice crackled through Prowl's communicator. "There was a slight mix-up regarding 'auditions,' but I have gotten myself onto the crew."

    "Good," Prowl replied. "I will be expecting regular reports from you."

    "Understood. Signing off."

    Once the connection had ended, Prowl heard a knock at the door to his office. Knowing who it was, he said, "Come in."

    The door slid open to reveal a black and gold Autobot, stepping in with a stoic expression on his faceplate. As the door closed behind him, the mech folded his arms over his chest.

    "I've done some digging-- about the device you guys found on Earth."

    "And what did you find, Crosswise?" Prowl asked.

    "Not as much as I would have hoped. Apparently it was a remote of some sort, connected to the drones Scorponok had under his command."

    "And is it Institute tech?"

    "Definitely. It seems to have some of the cerebro tech that they used to use there."

    "And do you have any ideas on how Scorponok was able to acquire such tech?"

    Crosswise shook his head. "Only that he must have been given it. I'm assuming there's a mole in our ranks."

    Prowl nodded. "Then it's up to you to find out who they are."

    Crosswise frowned. "Where would I even begin?"

    "Where else? The very planet it was found on."

    "Earth."

    Prowl nodded again, a humorless smile playing on his mouth. "I suggest you leave soon. For all we know, we could be racing against the clock."