Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

--Luna 1--

    "Ee-vah-- EVE-- stop." Boltax held up his hands. "What do you think you're doing? How did you get here? Why... why are you doing this?"

    "My superiors sent me to find Luna 1, which they found to be in the Sol system." EVE's optics narrowed as she raised her gun at Boltax. "They told me to simply scout out the moon... but I don't think they would mind if I took out one of their biggest dissidents."

    "Ee-vah, stop." WALL-E rolled to stand between EVE and Boltax. "This isn't... this isn't you. I know you can be a bit short-tempered, but not... murderous."

    The probe unit lowered her gaze at him. "You. You're one of the waste allocators. I thought the Functionists had recalled the last of you."

    "He's from a different time, EVE," Boltax said. "A time when you loved him... which you used to."

    "I don't know what you're talking about," EVE snapped. "I've never met him before in my entire life."

    "You're wrong. I know you are."

    "What could you possibly know about me?"

    Boltax said nothing. Instead, he drew out a dusty, probably worn-out tape player and turned it on.

    It only takes a moment / For your eyes to meet and then--

    EVE blinked as she moved back. It was clear to all (especially the cold-reading Nightbeat) that the song struck a familiar chord in her mind. However, she quickly shook her head and resumed her icy stare.

    "You're trying to distract me. You'll only be disappointed."

    "Speaking of distractions," Rodimus said, causing EVE to notice him and the other Cybertronians for the first time. "No offense, but the more time we spend here, the less time we have to stop Brainstorm from making this future a permanent one."

    "I suggest you go then," Boltax said ruefully. "It may mean that I will be erased from history, but if it also means a better world to live in, then I am willing to sacrificed myself."

    "What are you talking about?" EVE demanded. "What is this about erasing history?"

    Skids stepped forward and got down to his knees. "EVE, how much do the Functionists mean to you?"

    "Irrelevant. All that matters is what I can do to serve them."

    "Okay. So what happens if the Functionists decide you are no longer of any use to them? What if they decide to recall you like they did WALL-E's model?"

    "If it means upholding the perfect shape, then I will comply."

    "Is that really what you're satisfied with? To just be some tool that can be discarded whenever someone feels like it?"

    EVE had no response. Skids slowly reached out with his finger and pointed at EVE's chest.

    "I know you still have love for WALL-E. You may deny it, but it's there. I can tell. If you really want to do something for someone, then do something for him. Help us create a better tomorrow for you and him. Help us so that you can both be happy."

    "I don't need to be happy," EVE said quietly, unsure if she believed her own words. "It's... it's not required for my directive."

    "Forget about your directive. Forget about the Functionists. All that matters now is you and WALL-E. It's time for you to be your own person, for both your sake... and his."

    EVE bowed her head as she let these words sink in. Finally, after a long moment, she put away her blaster. "Very well. I will do as you ask. For him. For us."

    Skids smiled as he got to his feet. "That's what I like to hear."

    "Alrighty then," Rodimus said, after a silence that was somehow a mix of solemn and awkward. "So are we all set?"

    "It would appear so," Ultra Magnus muttered.

    "Then let's get moving." Rodimus turned to Boltax and nodded to him. "Thank you for your hospitality, High Circuitmaster."

    Boltax snorted. "Your sarcasm needs a little work. But you're welcome, all the same."

--Cybertron--

    "I saw him go down this way!"

    A pair of Functionaries took a hard turn into an alleyway, catching a glimpse of their target before it headed through a doorway.

    "This is Functionary 226 to all units," one of the officers called into his comlink. "We have a rogue minesweeper in Sector G1. Ex-Primal Vanguard. We believe him to be armed. Do not engage him until I give the order. Repeat: Do not engage!"

    The two Functionaries barged through the doorway, taking out part of the wall with their large size, and scoured the abandoned warehouse for their quarry.

    "I don't see how he can get anywhere with his optics deactivated," 226's partner growled.

    "Some 'bots have more acute senses when blind. But he won't get far. Trust me."

*  *  *

    Minimus Ambus was in the dark.

    He knew he should have thought this through. What was he going to do after acquiring a banned weapon and deactivating his optics? Now he had half of the security force after him and no sense of where he was going. He only went where his servos and audio sensors took him.

    He was on the rooftop now, that much he could tell what with the sound of air traffic flying loudly over him. Several levels below, he could hear heavy footsteps.

    He had lost everything. His brother Dominus was gone. Rewind was gone. Rocket, gone. His teammates in the Primal Vanguard-- Borebit, Corkscrew-- all gone. Even his own privacy had fallen victim to the Functionists' rule. This was where he would end it, he knew. This would be, as the organics called it, his swan song.

    "Hold it right there!"

    Minimus turned at the sound of the Functionary's voice, although he could not see them, and raised his gun in their direction. "If you know what's good for you, officer," he said defiantly, "then stand back."

    "Pal, if you were any other 'bot, I'd have called the Cog to detonate your o-chip hours ago. But I respect you military types, so I'll give you a choice: either you drop the gun now and come quietly with us, or join your friends in the scrapheap."

    "I'm really not afraid to pull this trigger, officer. I won't warn you again. Step away now and no one gets hurt."

    "What are you even trying to prove?" the Functionary asked. "Even if you managed to hit one of us with that thing, you'd be scrapped instantly by the other."

    "I'm trying to send a message," Minimus said. "I'm trying to show the world what our society has become. All of us are just cogs of a single machine."

    "That's the idea."

    "But why must life be like this? If Primus wanted us to be slaves, then why would he allow Alpha Prime to liberate us from the Builders?"

    "You're quoting the history records banned by the Council. Not exactly helping your case."

    "The Functionists are trying to hide the truth. They know that history exposes the faults in their ideology, but they're too scared-- too intimidated by naysayers like Dominus. That's why you took those like him out of the picture."

    "All right, I've heard enough. You have until three to drop the gun. One."

    "You don't scare me."

    "Two."

    "My voice will be heard."

    "Three."

    There was the sound of thunder and then nothing.

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

--Luna 1--

    Soon after landing on the moon, Ultra Magnus was taken by a squad of drones to Boltax's tower. Once there, he was relieved to find that Boltax had kept to his word: waiting for him in the main chamber were Rodimus, Drift, and their respective teams, all alive and well.

    Boltax himself was hovering over them in the center of the chamber, suspended by a mess of wires. His body was encased in thick armor plating and his arms dangled freely from the sides. Floating next to him was a Diagnostic Drone, who seemed to be keeping constant vigilance of the guests. As he entered the room, Magnus could have sworn he heard humming, but it stopped as soon as the High Circuitmaster noticed him.

    Pulling himself down from the ceiling, Boltax stared down at Magnus. "Now then... it would appear you all need to be reeducated. Tell me, what happened two thousand years ago?"

    "The First Great War ended with Autobot victory at the Battle of Iacon and the signing of the Tyrest Accord," Rodimus said. "And this is from someone who doesn't care much for history."

    "There's no such thing as the Tyrest Accord," Boltax snapped. "Both factions lost when Sentinel Prime and Trannis were consumed by a mysterious explosion, and when the Decepticons fled, the Functionists immediately took charge and gradually pushed the High Council out of power."

    "Yeah, that's not what happened," Nightbeat said, finding a conspicuously-placed stack of cubes to sit on. "If you want, Rewind can provide you with a complete record of what happened after the war in 11.3 seconds. Can't you, little buddy?"

    "I'm probably not the right person to ask at the moment," the archivist muttered, rubbing his head. "But I do have a spare data slug you can view."

    Ejecting the data slug from his arm, he handed it to the Diagnostic Drone, who then gave it to Boltax. The High Circuitmaster proceeded to insert it into his processor. No more than twelve seconds later, he took it right out.

    "Impossible," he murmured. "None of that is remotely close to what happened. The Takeover, the Dark Dawn... none of that was mentioned on your data slug."

    "Because for us, it never happened," Magnus said. "And I know why."

    Rodimus beckoned sardonically with his hand. "The floor is yours."

    Magnus proceeded to tell them all about Brainstorm's time machine and Que's theory about alternate timelines. When he was finished, everyone was staring at him in utter disbelief-- save for Perceptor.

    "That is all very plausible," the scientist said. "Brainstorm must have gone back in time to kill Sentinel Prime and this future is what may happen if we don't stop him in time."

    "Wouldn't he have had plenty of time already?" Chromedome asked. "I mean, why haven't we all disappeared yet?"

    "It's clear that the divergence between the two timelines is at the Battle of Iacon, two thousand years ago. It is very likely that his time machine does not have enough power to jump through that much time in one go. He has to make multiple, smaller jumps at a time."

    "And I should believe any of this... why?" Boltax asked.

    "You don't have to, really," Rodimus said. "You can just let us all go now and forget we ever met."

    Nightbeat smirked. "Actually, Rodimus, it might be difficult for him to completely forget us."

    "Come again?"

    "We've already met Boltax before, long before we even arrived on Luna 1."

    "What are you talking about?"

    The detective got down from the stack of cubes and began pacing back and forth. "Ever since we got here, Boltax has been humming to himself. At first I thought it was just a generic little tune, until I realized I've heard it before-- specifically from Ratchet after he got back from Bluestreak's movie night."

    "And what tune was that?" Skids asked.

    "I'll get to that in a moment. The next thing I noticed was the stack of cubes I was sitting on. At first glance they appear to be made of steel, but upon closer inspection, I realized that they were actually made of garbage."

    Magnus sniffed. "I thought my olfactory sensors were picking up something...."

    "The third thing to catch my interest was that, when we were first brought in here, Boltax's optics fizzled like crazy when he saw WALL-E." Nightbeat's grin broadened. "I could just hear his processor whirring as he tried to make sense of the ontological quandary."

    "Onto-what now?" Rodimus said.

    "How was it ontological?" Nautica asked.

    "Because for all intents and purposes, it should not be possible for WALL-E and Boltax to be in the same room and, more importantly, at the same time."

    "Why not?" Drift asked.

    Nightbeat turned to Ratchet. "Hey, doc. Sing that little tune I mentioned. You know the one I'm talking about."

    The medic crossed his arms. "I'd rather not."

    "Come on. This is important. Just the first few verses."

    Ratchet sighed and gritted his teeth. "Out. There. There's. A. World--"

    "Say it like you mean it."

    Rolling his eyes, the medic broke out into song, though he said the lyrics in a rapidly fast manner. "Put on your Sunday clothes / There's lots of world out there / Get out the--"

    "STOP IT!" Boltax bellowed, clutching his head. "Stop! I've heard enough!"

    "I haven't!" Swerve said. "C'mon, doc, sing another few--"

    "NO!" Boltax swept down from the ceiling and grabbed Nightbeat by the neck. "You're lucky I don't kill you! You're lucky I don't kill all of you!"

    "That's enough." Ultra Magnus seized Boltax from behind and wrestled him off of the detective. "Care to explain yourself?"

    The High Circuitmaster started to shake, his optics fizzling. "I lost everything. I thought I had it all, but... it was... only for a moment...."

    "Take it easy," Rodimus said, reaching out in a reassuring gesture. "Mind telling us what happened?"

    Boltax lowered his gaze to WALL-E, who had been cowering behind Skids' leg ever since they were brought into the chamber. "My life... is much the same as his. Almost exactly, up until a point. I lived in isolation for nearly seven hundred years, with only a mere insect for company. Then, one day, she arrived...."

    "EVE," Skids murmured.

    Boltax nodded. "I know now why the humans named her that. She was like an angel sent down from the heavens. A reward for... all of my hard work."

    "What happened to her?"

    Boltax glanced again at WALL-E before saying, "A mere week after we brought the humans back to Earth... the Functionists came. They had just exchanged Luna 2 for the planet with the Black Box Consortia and were bent on cleansing worlds with a mix of organic and mechanical life. Deeming us robots as more useful than the humans, they made short work of the latter and brought the robots under their service; they even reactivated my fallen brothers.

    "The Functionists took my EVE, thought not before she helped me onto an escape craft from the Axiom. I wandered the stars for who knows how long, until I ended up here. It wasn't long after that when I met Boltax-- the original Boltax."

    "What was he doing here?" Rodimus asked.

    "He had fled Cybertron seven centuries prior, after the Functionists outlawed the intellectual class. When I found him, he was dying, but saw me as a worthy prospect. As a result, in order to prolong his life, he merged our consciousnesses together, which is how I-- the current me-- came into being."

    "And the drones?" Drift said. "What's the deal with them?"

    "The original Boltax had created them from abandoned factories here on Luna 1. He assembled an armada in case the Functionists ever found him--"

    "Which they have."

    Everyone jumped at the sound of the voice; it sounded cold, merciless, and-- to at least two of them-- very familiar.

    "You didn't tell us this place was haunted!" Swerve exclaimed.

    "It's not," Boltax said, suddenly quiet. "We have company."

    "That you do." A small, white shape emerged from the shadows, blue optics glaring from a black screen-face.

    Both Boltax and WALL-E stared in astonishment. "Ee-vah?!"

    "My proper designation is EVE, though I suppose it won't matter in the end." A blaster deployed from the probe unit's right arm. "Your deaths have already been decided upon."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

--The Lost Light--

    As soon as he had gotten Blaster's alert, Ultra Magnus came rushing onto the bridge. He immediately came to a halt when he saw that most of Luna 1's surface was lit up.

    "What just happened?" he asked.

    "Not sure," Blaster said. "I've lost contact with both Rodimus and Drift's teams. My guess is they had a run-in with whoever's down there."

   "This isn't good," Magnus said. "Let's bring the ship down and--"

    "Wait! I'm picking up some sort of transmission. Let me put it on visual."

    Blaster worked the controls of his station and a few seconds later, a face in shadows appeared on the screen, red optics glowing.

    "Unidentified spacecraft, I suggest that you leave this very instant. I have fourteen members of your crew at my mercy and need only snap my fingers to execute them. I can do the same to you."

    Magnus stepped up to the screen. "I am Ultra Magnus, second-in-command of the Lost Light. None of us mean you any harm."

    "Then explain why you have activated the hot spot and disturbed the sparks I've been trying to keep safe."

    "We had no knowledge of any hot spot. We simply came across Luna 1 and--"

    "A strange coincidence, is it not?" the mysterious being said icily. "Of all the systems in the galaxy, you happen upon the very one my base of operations is."

    "We came to this system with the intention of visiting Earth," Magnus said. "We had no idea it was missing."

    The stranger scoffed. "Don't play games with me. It's common knowledge amongst Cybertronians that the Functionists destroyed Earth ten years ago."

    Magnus blinked. "What? The Functionists were ousted... right after the Second Great War started."

    "Now I know you're lying. There is no such thing as a Second Great War and the Functionists were never ousted-- they have been in control of Cybertron for the past two thousand years."

    "Two thousand years? Back then, yes, but never publicly. They used the High Council as a front and Sentinel Prime as a figurehead."

    The stranger glared at him. "You really don't know your history well, do you?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "Sentinel Prime was killed at the end of the Great War two thousand years ago and the Functionists have been in command ever since."

--Luna 1--

    "Riptide owes me fifty Shanix."

    Sitting next to Swerve in the dark, dungeon cell Drift's team had just awoken up in, Tailgate asked, "Why?"

    "We made a bet on how long it would take for us to get captured at some point in the quest," Swerve said. "It tends to happen a lot, from what I've experienced."

    A loud bang sounded across the room. All heads turned to see Whirl pounding at the cell door.

    "Whirl," Drift said exasperatedly. "Punching the door won't open it."

    "Then what will, eh?" the ex-Wrecker snapped. "Begging the Guiding Hand to make a fist and smash it down?"

    "Being flippant towards others' beliefs certainly won't," Cyclonus muttered.

    "What? I was being serious--"

    "Enough." Drift raised a hand for silence. "We will find no way out of this by arguing or hitting things. We must find peace and be calm."

    "Kind of difficult to be calm when you've got an ex-Decepticon, an ex-Unicron agent, a screwed-up empurata victim, a cranky medic, and Swerve all in one room," Ratchet muttered.

    "Point taken." Drift turned to Rewind, who was sitting with Swerve and Tailgate on the bench with his head in his hands. "You okay, Rewind?"

    "My database is a mess," the archivist murmured. "Ever since earlier today, I've been recalling stuff that never happened. It's like... it's like my database is just making stuff up."

    Drift rubbed his chin. "Now that is strange. Perhaps it is a sign of some sorts, a message from Primus--"

    "Oh, sweet spark, not this scrap." Ratchet stepped up with a scowl on his face. "This has nothing to do with Primus or that Guiding Hand rubbish. If I had to wager a guess, Rewind, you could be suffering some sort of variation of information creep. Between your age and your large database, it could be susceptible to corruption."

    "But it's not just a case of reinterperting facts, Ratchet," the archivist said. "It's complete fabrication of events. Never once in history-- the history I know-- have the Functionists ruled Cybertron in the High Council's stead, or consider certain classes as subject to extermination."

    "Um, guys?" Swerve said. "I noticed this earlier, but didn't want to interrupt all the wonderful arguing and stuff... but what are those marks on the wall supposed to mean?"

    Everyone looked to see what it was Swerve had spotted. Those who had mouths proceeded to let them drop open.

    "And here I thought we wouldn't be getting any more surprises," Ratchet said.

--Lost Light--

    Although he knew Rodimus would throw a fit if he found out, Ultra Magnus had to take a seat in the command chair. All of this was too much to comprehend; it was almost coming to the point where he could no longer tell what was reality.

    Still massaging his helmet crest, Magnus said to the being on the screen, "Sentinel Prime didn't die at the end of the war."

    "It's pointless to keep up this charade. Everyone knows that he did-- unless you were born after the Purge, which I find unlikely."

    "It would appear we're on totally different pages here." Magnus thought for a moment before saying, "How long have you been on Luna 1?"

    The mech snarled. "Why should I tell you?"

    "Please. I believe it is necessary so we can clear things up. How long have you been on Luna 1?"

    The being hesitated before speaking. "710 years."

    Ninety years from the present, Magnus thought. "Does the name Optimus Prime mean anything to you?" he then said aloud.

    "No."

    "Then how about Megatron?"

    "As in Megatronus, the Fallen Prime? Then yes. But I know not of any others by that name."

    "Then what about the Five Dark Epochs? The Simanzi Massacre? The Siege of Massunstrad?"

    "I have never heard of such events."

    Mulling over this, Magnus ordered Blaster to silence the comm before turning to Que. "Any idea what's wrong with this guy?"

    "I don't think anything's wrong with him, per se," the scientist said. "Between what he's telling us and our discovery of Brainstorm's time machine... I believe we've ended up in an altered timeline."

    "You mean... Brainstorm's already rewritten history?"

    "Or is in the process of doing so. This could only be a possible future that we're currently in. If we act fast, we can follow Brainstorm back in time and stop him from making the necessary changes and making this future an inevitable one."

    Magnus mulled over this before returning to the mysterious being. "Let's make a deal. If you spare our crewmates and allow us to land, we can review each others' conflicting histories and try to deduce a solution."

    "How do I know you're not trying to trick me?"

    "Well, as we've both seen, we're doing a horrible job at it."

    The being glared at him for a moment before saying, "Very well. You are free to land."

    Magnus nodded. "Thank you. Though, one last thing: do you mind telling us your name?"

    Again, the stranger hesitated before saying, "Boltax. You may call me Boltax."

--Cybertron--

    The probe unit known as EVE floated in place within a brightly-lit chamber. Standing before her, datapad in hand, was the Functionist Councilor designated Ten-of-Twelve, the Evaluator. He regarded EVE with his single optic, betraying nothing of his thoughts, before finally speaking.

    "Probe unit EV-001. You were assigned to Primal Vanguard Unit C-69-14, designation Minimus Ambus, correct?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "You are aware then, that the Primal Vanguard has been dissolved and, as a result, most EVE probe units are now considered obsolete?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Then it should no doubt please you to know that we have a new assignment for you. We have found evidence that Cybertron's missing satellite-- Luna 1-- has appeared in the Sol system. Your mission is to scout out the system and, if it is indeed there, the moon itself. Is that understood?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Very good. You leave now."

-

    Author's note: I have no idea how time travel works (other than what's shown in Transformers), so the stuff Que's said so far (and will say in future chapters), I have no idea if it's actually plausible. Then again, neither is time travel itself.

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

--The Lost Light, bridge--

    Ultra Magnus watched from the bridge as the two shuttles departed from the Lost Light. He cringed at the sight of the so-called "Rodpod"; it was such a massive testament to Rodimus' ever-growing ego. If there wasn't something against such a display in the Autobot Code, then there ought to have been.

    "Ultra Magnus?" A voice crackled through his communicator. "Red Alert here. I need you to come down to Brainstorm's workshop. There's... you just need to see this."

    "I'm on my way," Magnus replied. "Mainframe, Blaster, keep an optic on Rodimus and Drift's progress, and radio me if something goes wrong."

    "In that case," Blaster said wryly, "you'll be hearing from us in about five minutes."

--Luna 1, Rodimus' team--

    "Okay, we've touched ground," Rodimus announced to the others. "Let's break out the Mobile Autobot Repair Bays and roll out."

    "Um, question," Chromedome said, raising his hand. "Do we even need the M.A.R.B.s? I mean, we could just drive."

    "I detected several pits and bottomless chasms when we were making our way down," Perceptor said. "It would be very risky to drive across the land lest you wish to take a plummet."

    "Right then. Let me just check on Drift, then we'll be on our way." Turning on his communicator, Rodimus then said, "Drift, my team's landed somewhere in the north. What's your status?"

    "South of your position. We're scouting out now, but so far, no sign of the billion lifeforms Perceptor detected."

    "We'll find them. Just contact me when you do. Rodimus, out." After ending the connection, he turned to flash his team a grin. "Let's--"

    "Don't tell me: 'Let's roll out,'" Skids interjected, rolling his optics. "You've said that how many times now?"

    "Shut up and roll out."

--Drift's team--

    "Whirl, Cyclonus, do you see anything?" Drift called up to the two fliers as he and the rest of his group traversed the barren landscape on M.A.R.B.s.

    "Just a whole lotta nothing," Whirl replied. "So far the whole Luna 1 mystery thing had been one huge anticlimax."

    "Wait." Cyclonus suddenly morphed to his robot mode and landed on a metal ledge. "I saw something."

    The others slowed their mobile platforms to a halt. "What is it?" Drift asked.

    "I'm not sure. It moved too fast for me to get a better look. But it looked like a jet of sorts--"

    "There it goes!" Tailgate exclaimed, standing on Swerve's shoulders as he pointed at a blue jet flying up ahead. "I think I see more in the distance."

    "Yeah," Ratchet muttered. "Headed right for us."

    "At least we've found our lifeforms," Drift said. "Let me call Rodimus and--"

    He was cut off by a blue stun bolt to the chest. He fell off his M.A.R.B., despite Rewind's vain attempts to stop him, and became helpless to act as he watched his teammates succumb to the same fate. He then looked up to see a blue, streamlined mech hovering over him, red optics glowing menacingly.

    "What say we consider this road trip... cancelled?"

    The flier then aimed a built-in blaster at him and Drift quickly found himself in darkness.

--The Lost Light--

    Ultra Magnus frowned as he looked upon the array of briefcases scattered out on the floor of Brainstorm's lab, arranged in a specific formation. Que and Glyph were already there examining them by the time he had gotten there, while Red Alert and Riptide stood off to the side.

    "And here I thought he only had the one," Riptide muttered. "When he first came aboard with Elita's group, he wasn't exactly toting a whole armful of briefcases."

    "He could have very well created them since then," Que said. "Anyway, I believe I may have figured them out. The briefcases are empty, but they are nonetheless connected. They are components of a greater machine."

    "What kind of machine?" Ultra Magnus asked.

    "A time machine. I recognized several parts as those of a Transwarp drive and they work much the same way. The main difference is that the user of the machine does not require a ship to utilize it and thus can transport just themselves to different time periods, using only a single control case to do so. However, the time machine does require a hyper-drive of some sorts to divert power from, which explains the difficulties we were having with it earlier."

    "So Brainstorm's jumped to a different time," Magnus murmured. "Any indication as to when?"

    "I'm afraid not. Knowing him, he could very well have perfected the technology to jump to any time or place, not just the future." Que rubbed his chin. "And that still leaves the question as to why."

--Luna 1--

    "Why are you shaking, Nightbeat?"

    Flying ahead of the others on his M.A.R.B., Nightbeat looked over his shoulder to grin at Rodimus. "Because it's Luna 1! This is one of the Big Three! This... this is a life-defining experience for me!"

    "Yeah, well, try not to get in over your head," Rodimus said. "And stay where I can see you."

    The detective scowled. "I'm old enough to be your caretaker, pal, so don't go lecturing me like a protoform."

    The team spent several minutes scouting out the moon, finding nothing but deserted plains. If the scanner was right about there being one billion people, then they were doing an extremely good job at hiding.

    Sitting next to Skids on his M.A.R.B., WALL-E suddenly jumped up and pointed up ahead. "Over there!"

    Rodimus looked to see a tall building standing in the distance, reaching several stories high. He slid his magnification visor over his optics to get a better look; he could see at least a dozen jet fighters swarming around the building, with large ground vehicles rolling at the base.

    "Looks like we've just found our life signs," he said. "Let's set down here before we make our approach. Wouldn't want them to think we were attacking."

    The others came to a halt just as Rodimus jumped off of his M.A.R.B. His feet touched the ground... and the moon exploded with light.

*  *  *

    "It would appear we have guests, sir."

    Something moved in the shadows of the command center, coming down to loom over the Diagnostic Drone that had spoken. "Do we now?"

    "Yes, sir. Aero Drone Unit BR-07 has returned with seven captured mechs and our drones outside have detected another seven."

    Red optics flared in the darkness. "They've found us. The Functionists... they're here to get rid of us."

    "Shall I deploy all the drones, sir?"

    "Yes. Send them all. Kill everything in sight."

    "And the prisoners?"

    There was a brief lull of silence. "Keep them alive for now. We could use them to send the Functionists a message... then we can make use of their sparks."

    The drone dipped its hovering form. "As you wish, High Circuitmaster. I shall send out the command now."

*  *  *

    "Rodimus? What just happened? The whole moon just lit up like the Fractal Amphitheater on a wild night!"

    "We're... we're fine, Blaster," Rodimus said, his optics still adjusting from the sudden flash. "I'm... not quire sure what happened either."

    "I am." Perceptor got to his knees to examine one of the several blue orbs poking out from the ground. "We've landed on a hot spot."

    "Sparks?" Chromedome asked.

    "Yes. Approximately one billion of them."

    Nightbeat snapped his fingers. "Of course! Luna 1 is often called the Seething Moon! And here it is teeming-- or seething-- with life!"

    "So now what?" Rodimus asked. "Do we harvest these sparks or--?"

    "Intruders!"

    Everyone turned to see an army of tanks-- the same ones they had seen outside the building-- rolling towards them, guns primed. While a squadron of jets flew overhead, one of the tanks converted to robot mode and pointed at Rodimus' team.

    "Whoever you are and whatever your reasons are for being here, you have outstayed your welcome." At his beckoning, all of the tanks aimed their turrets. "By order of the High Circuitmaster of the Vehicon Armada, you are to be destroyed."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--The Lost Light, Brainstorm's workshop--

    Riptide cursed to himself out of surprise as he picked up a cylindrical container from a table in the workshop. Floating in a sickly green liquid was a multi-legged, grotesque, organic thing which moved in a way that made the Hydrobot shiver.

    "Where in the Pit does Brainstorm find this kind of stuff?"

    "He used to visit other planets a lot before the war," said Glyph. "I would go to him to examine the specimens he'd found on Nebulos and Varas Centralus. Really interesting stuff."

    "No accounting for taste," Riptide muttered. "So, find anything yet?"

    "Just some guns, grenades, more guns, a switch thing, even more guns, and-- oh, my...."

    "Don't tell me: more guns."

    "No, it's...." She bent behind a table for a moment and reemerged with a briefcase in hand. "It's this."

    Riptide's optics widened. "His briefcase? But he never let's that thing out of his sight! You've seen it handcuffed to his hand!"

    "I know. And I have. But that's not the only odd thing." She beckoned Riptide over to where she had found the briefcase. The Hydrobot walked over to the table and looked down, his mouth falling open in surprise. What he saw was an entire cache of briefcases.

    "I'll go get Red Alert," he murmured. "He's gonna want to see this."

--The bridge--

    "Transwarp jump successful," Perceptor reported from his station. "We have arrived in Earth year 2815."

    "Awesome," Rodimus said. "Never thought I'd be going to the future in this quest. How long before we reach Earth."

    "According to the scanner, we're already there."

    Rodimus frowned. "You sure? 'Cause I don't see it." 

    Indeed, all that could be seen through the ship's viewport was the infinite star-dotted plain of space, with a solitary moon floating in the distance.

    Perceptor rubbed his chin. "That's odd. Not only is the scanner telling me that Earth is-- or rather should be there when it clearly is not... but that moon should not be there without a planet to orbit. It's scientifically impossible."

    Rodimus tapped his helmet crest. "Mainframe, zoom in on it."

    The systems analyst brought up a closer visual of the moon on the viewscreen. Those gathered on the bridge studied it for a moment until Ultra Magnus spoke.

    "Those look like spikes jutting out from the surface."

    "And I'm pretty sure moon dust isn't supposed to look that shiny," Drift noted. "In fact, I daresay that's metal."

    "And it's way too big to be Earth's moon," Rodimus murmured.

    "In other words," Skids said, "it's not just any moon. It's our moon. The one we lost."

    "You lost a moon?!" WALL-E exclaimed.

    "In the ancient past, yes," Drift said. "Long before even the Thirteen Primes were believed to have reigned. Many have sought it out but none were ever successful."

    "Until us, of course," Rodimus said. "Perceptor, are you getting any readings?"

    "Yes, but...." The scientist was slowly shaking his head in disbelief. "They can't be right. Luna 1 is clearly deserted, and yet...."

    "Yet what?"

    "It's supposedly home to one billion people."

--Cybertron, the Cog--

    "Council in session."

    Twelve beings, nearly identical in design and build save for color scheme, sat around a cog-shaped table. Siting at the head of the table, the Convener of the Functionist Council formed a tent with his hands.

    "First item of the agenda: the members of the 113th Division of the Primal Vanguard have returned to Cybertron. As per the minutes of our last meeting, it was decreed that the Vanguard was to be dissolved upon their return from their last mission, and that its members would be made the subjects of our total surveillance project. Ten-of-Twelve, you promised us an update on this operation."

    "The pilot is a success, One-of-Twelve," said the Evaluator of the Council. "The Functionaries are already processing their first wave of intelligence. The second stage of the Rollout is underway as we speak."

    "Excellent," One-of-Twelve said. "Now then, item two: the role of data-slugs within the Grand Cybertronian Taxonomy. Six-of-Twelve?"

    "The theoconomists remain divided on the subject," said the Enactor of the Council. "Some insist that a strict reading of the G.C.T. suggests that the data-slugs still retain functional value, while others stand by the fact that their ability to store information in their databanks-- information that could be used against us-- may prove a threat to our ability to govern."

    One-of-Twelve's single optic glowed. "As takes precedence, we are beholden to intervene when the social stock market fails to deliver the desired outcome. The minutes of this meeting will show that, on this day, the Council decreed data-slugs as obsolete and would be recalled forthwith. Council dismissed."

--The Lost Light, Shuttle Bay 1--

    "All right, change of plans," Rodimus said as he led his team-- which consisted of Skids, Chromedome, Perceptor, Nautica, Nightbeat, and WALL-E-- to the shuttle bay. "Drift and I will lead two separate teams to Luna 1. We'll explore the planet, find out where the life signs are coming from, and why it's been missing for so long. Oh, and find out where Earth went off to. That's important, too."

    "And what if we don't find anything?" Nautica asked. "What is Luna 1 is just a boring old moon that decided to just float away?"

    "Then at least I get to check off another one of my top three mysteries," Nightbeat said. "Number one was the Ark, two is Luna 1, three is--"

    "Wait, aren't we taking the Leading Light?" Chromedome asked as Rodimus led them pass the Lost Light's primary shuttle.

    "Drift's taking that one," Rodimus said, a grin forming on his face. "We're taking my new personalized ship."

    Nautica looked baffled. "Since when did you have a--"

    Before she could finish her sentence, one of the bay doors slid open and all six of Rodimus' teammates bore witness to a large, spherical shuttlecraft made in the likeness of Rodimus' face; orange flames and all.

    While the others gawked in silence, Nightbeat shook his head. "Personalized doesn't begin to describe it...."

--Cybertron--

    Minimus sped through the streets of Iacon, surrounded by horror. He had been on his way to meet with his former teammates when all of a sudden, data-slugs began dropping dead to the ground, their heads exploding. His mind immediately went to Rewind and he was on his way back to Dominus' residence, not waiting for EVE to follow him.

    By the time he had reached the apartment, Rewind-- much to Minimus' relief-- was still functioning, rushing out to meet him.

    "Minimus! Thank Primus-- it's Dom! The Functionists have done something to him!"

    "I'm afraid he's not the only one," Minimus said as he converted to robot mode. He rushed inside with Rewind and found Dominus sitting dejectedly against a wall, his monitor face blank.

    "Brother?" Minimus said quietly. "Are you all right?"

    <Error. Please repeat,> was all that appeared.

    "They took his words," Rewind murmured. "His vocabulary. All he has left now are the basics: yes, no, up, down... and the words he's lost...." His voice suddenly became softer than a whisper. "There are some words you can't afford to lose, Minimus."

    Minimus rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Rewind. We'll... we'll do something. We'll continue where Dominus left off."

    <Not if you value the perfect shape.>

    Minimus and Rewind both looked in surprise at the text that had suddenly typed itself on Dominus' screen.

    "That's... that's not Dom," Rewind said. "Who... who could be sending that?"

    "It must be the Functionists," Minimus said. "But how do they know we're here?"

    <You have proven your worth, Minimus Ambus. It was through the cameras we had installed into your optics that we discovered your spark-brother's dissidence. Now he shall forever be silent so as to not disrupt the peace.>

    "But you can't silence me," Rewind said defiantly, stepping up to the screen. "I'll find a way to stop you. I'll find a way to end the slavery, the flatheads, and the occupational genocide. And you can forget about getting rid of me; Dominus had my obsolescence chip disabled, so there's no way you can reach me."

    <Oh? What about the backup?>

    Rewind's visor widened. "The what...?"

    Before anything could be done, Rewind suddenly fell into Dominus' arms, screaming in pain as the back of his head began to smoke. Minimus had no time to react before his friend's head exploded before his eyes-- and no doubt those of the Functionists.

    <This is what happens when you act against us. You would do well to keep that in mind in the future.>

    With that, Dominus' screen went blank once again-- perhaps forever. As the silenced philosopher cradled the body of his sparkmate, Minimus looked away. After all, it was the least he could do to not give the Functionists the satisfaction of seeing what their genocide had accomplished.

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--The Lost Light, centuries earlier--

    Rewind woke up screaming.

    Chromedome was instantly there by his recharge slabs, grabbing him by the shoulders and gently shaking him to calm the archivist down. "Rewind! What's wrong? Are you all right?"

    Rewind quickly calmed himself and rubbed his head. "I'm... I'm fine. Just a bad dream. A flashback. With a databank as large as mine, it's bound to happen at least once."

    "What was it about?" Chromedome asked.

    "I was remembering the Dark Dawn, five hundred years ago. Cycle 9314, the day the Functionists recalled the laser pointers."

    "The laser pointers?" Chromedome said, stumped. "Rewind... no such thing happened. The war was already long underway then and the Functionists had been all but abolished. We even fought alongside a laser pointer during Cycle 9314; remember Shimmerstick? We fought with him at the Manganese Mountains against Scorponok."

    "But it says here in my database that...." Rewind paused as he viewed the information in his head; information which, he soon realized, he had absolutely no recollection of. The Takeover, the Dark Dawn, the Purge... none of this matched what had once been there, what he himself had experienced.

    "Domey," he said very quietly, "what's happening to me?"

*  *  *

    "Okay, explain to me what just happened."

    "It would appear we have a rogue crewmember on our hands," Ultra Magnus said to Rodimus, who had just awaken on a recharge slab in the medibay. "From what Rung has told me, Brainstorm walked into Swerve's little more than an hour ago and opened his briefcase, after which everyone except him fell to the floor unconscious-- with him ending up buried underneath, of course.

    "The medics have just checked the distilleries and say that the engex there had been spiked with poison, which the briefcase must have activated upon being opened."

    "Lethal poison?" Rodimus asked.

    "Hard to say. Swerve always dilutes his drinks, which might be why it only knocked them out instead of killing them."

    "So why wasn't Rung affected?"

    "Because he is a teetotaler-- much like myself, which is why I wasn't affected and was able to go after Brainstorm."

    "And yet he still got away."

    "Yes," Magnus said with a sigh. "Apparently he took the Magnus Armor into account and used a gun on me which separated me from the Magnus Armor. By the time I pulled myself out, he was long gone."

    "Any idea on where he's gone to?" Rodimus asked.

    "No, but I'm having Red Alert and his team scour every inch of the ship. No shuttles are missing in the hangar bay, so he couldn't have left the ship."

    "We'll find him," Rodimus said assuredly. "Wherever he's gotten to, we'll find him. In the meantime, let's get Ricochet's Transwarp drive up and running. It's time we brought WALL-E back to the future."

--Cybertron, the future--

    Upon arriving at his brother's home, the first thing to strike Minimus Ambus as odd wasn't the holographic sign reading "You are our eyes" (those were commonplace enough) nor was it the harvester unit retrieving a deactivated Lunabot. No, it was what first caught his notice when he walked in.

    "What happened to Dominus' library?" he asked as Rewind closed the door behind them and EVE. "He used to have so many datapads, it made the Hall of Records look pathetic."

    "Thanks to the Purge, it's all been reduced to a single bookshelf by Dom's recharge slab," Rewind said.

    "You mentioned the Purge earlier at the spaceport. I've been away for two thousand years, so I might need some elaboration."

    "Five hundred years ago, the Functionist Council declared nearly all history records preceding the Takeover as falsehoods and had them all destroyed and all the libraries shut down as a result," Rewind said. "The only things they've preserved are records on the Age of Nova Prime-- specifically those on functionism when it first started to develop under Nova and how it's developed since then into Nominus and Guardian's reigns."

    "I see," Minimus muttered, rubbing his chin. "So, where is Dominus?"

    "Hang on, I'll go get him for you. Feel free to make yourselves comfortable; our home is your home, after all." With that, Rewind went off to fetch his partner, leaving Minimus alone with EVE.

    A light emitting from around the corner led Minimus to a viewscreen, on which footage of some riot was playing. Front and center was an orange and white femme with goggled eyes, clutching holding a transformation cog in her hands. As if that image alone wasn't bizarre enough, the t-cog was also on fire.

    "Reject the Adaptusian faith!" the protester exclaimed as she rallied her followers. "Live your life without purpose! All hail the Useless One!"

    With those words, she tossed the transformation cog at a Functionary attempting to corral the protesters. In retaliation, the officer fired his gun and her head was blown to pieces.

    Minimus winced at the scene. "It would appear the rallies have only gotten worse over the years," he murmured. "Amazing that the Functionists would allow something like that be televised."

    EVE said nothing. Minimus looked down at the probe bot, watching her float in place with her blue optics positioned in a stoic expression. Had the organics who created her intentionally designed her model to look so detached and emotionless? Or had the Functionists modified her and the other Earth robots in some way?

    Clearing his vocal processor to get EVE's attention, Minimus said, "That waste allocator at the spaceport... it might have just been me, but it sounded like he was trying to say your name."

    "I assure you that I have no knowledge on who he was or why he seemed to be familiar with me," EVE replied monotonously.

    "Do you remember anything at all prior to your service to the Primal Vanguard?"

    "Any such memories have either been erased or stored away. And if the latter case, I see no purpose in retrieving them."

    "What if I asked you to?"

    EVE lifted her cerulean gaze at him, emotionless as always. "Would you?"

    Before Minimus could reply, Rewind returned to them, with another mech following him. 

    "I found Dom," the former said. "He was just finished recharging. He's pretty eager to see you again."

    Minimus said nothing. In fact, he could barely even register the archivist's words, instead staring in utter horror at the computer screen which had replaced his brother's head, showing black text on a blue screen.

    <Hello, brother,> it read. <Long time no speak.>

--The Lost Light, present--

    "All right, so here's the low down," Rodimus said to the Autobots he had summoned to the bridge. "Once we've jumped to the future-- AKA WALL-E's time-- you guys and I will head down to Earth and we'll try to find and identify what it was that transported WALL-E here. Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus will commence a full-scale search for Brainstorm on the ship. Any questions?"

    "Yeah, just one," said Skids. "What if we don't find the thingmajig WALL-E found? What if it's gone or something?"

    "Then it's no big deal. We just drop WALL-E off and then go after Brainstorm."

    "I think what Skids is trying to get at is, what if the... let's call it a device," Nautica said. "What if the device did more than just bring WALL-E here? What if it's done something else besides that?"

    "Do I look like Alpha Trion to you?" Rodimus retorted. "I don't exactly have some Sigma Orb to look into and see everything. Look, we'll deal with it-- whatever 'it' is-- when we get to Earth. Are we all set, Perceptor?"

    "Affirmative, captain."

    "Then let's go."

--Cybertron, future--

    "D-Dominus?" Minimus stared at his brother in utter shock. "What... what's happened to you?"

    "The Functionists have made him a flathead," Rewind said with a sad sigh. "The original use of empurata had become so commonplace that the Council decided to upgrade it, leading to... this."

    "Can he still communicate?"

    <Only through text on my screen,> Dominus responded himself, the words typing out on his screen. <The Functionists found it the best way to silence me after I became a bit too loud for their liking.>

    "Wait," Minimus said. "What do you mean by that?"

    Rewind looked up at his partner. "Should I tell him?"

    Dominus took a moment to respond. <Yes.>

    Turning to Minimus, Rewind said, "Dom and I have been acting against the Functionists for years-- even before you left Cybertron. It started out as a small, secret operation until we decided to become more verbal. And then, well...."

    "And then Dominus got robbed of his voice," Minimus said, getting the idea. He rubbed his helmet, somewhat overwhelmed by these sudden developments to him. "You certainly weren't kidding when you said my brother was busy."

    "Sir, I suggest we report these rebels to the Council," EVE said, speaking up for the first time since Dominus had entered the room. "They are violation Section A1, Paragraph 13 of the--"

    "I am aware of the rules, EVE," Minimus said. "And I am not about to turn them in. Besides, the Functionists have already done their job to silence them."

    "Even so, they are still wholly capable of spreading their slander and--"

    Minimus held up a hand to silence her. "EVE. That's enough." To Rewind and Dominus, he said, "I know you're about to ask me to join your crusades. If it's all the same to you, I'll need the time to think about it. Besides, I'm due for a meeting with my teammates. With the Primal Vanguard being shut down, we're all going to need new jobs."

    "We won't hold you up then," Rewind said. "See you later."

    As Minimus left, with EVE trailing behind, Rewind then looked up at Dominus. "So what do you think? Is he onside with us?"

    <It's hard to say,> his partner replied. <My brother's always been a bit hard to read.>

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light II, Chapter One

Reminder: This story arc borrows heavily from the Elegant Chaos arc of MTMTE, but with enough changes and twists to be its own thing. 

CHAPTER ONE

--Cybertron--

    "You've been quiet, Minimus."

    The white and green mech looked down at Rewind as the elevator took them away from the landing platform which he had arrived on and into the crowded spaceport. He then looked away and gave a wistful sigh.

    "I'm fine, Rewind, it's just... I was hoping to see my brother. I haven't heard from him in months."

    "You know how he is; always busy," Rewind said. "And the Functionist Council just keeps piling the work on."

    "Don't get me wrong, I admire his work ethic. But...." Minimus gave another sigh. "I spend two thousand years offworld and he doesn't come to greet me in person? Bad enough that our relationship has never been much of a... steady one."

    "Well, I'm sure you two can patch things up, make up for lost time." As they reached the bottom of the escalator, Rewind cast a glance over his shoulder. "Your friends seems to be lagging behind."

    "Hurry along, EVE," Minimus called to the small, sleek probe unit. "You don't want to get caught out on your own."

    "My apologies, sir," EVE responded in a monotonic feminine voice. "I was simply feeling... disquieted for failing you."

    "You didn't fail me," Minimus said, waving a hand dismissively. "The other probe units my teammates were using didn't have much better luck in tracking down organic life. The fact that the Black Box Consortia has been using new stealth tech doesn't help either."

    "Is she one of the new class?" Rewind asked Minimus, referring to EVE. "I remember hearing something about the Council purchasing a planet from the Black Box Consortia after trading in Luna 2 ten years ago. Since then we've been receiving all sorts of new classes and models."

    "Yes, she is from that tradeoff. This organic species had created her type to track down vegetation that would lead them to an inhabitable planet. Now the Primal Vanguard has been using them to track down techno-organic worlds and 'cleanse' them of either mechanical or organic elements. All for the greater good, of course...."

    "Nova Prime would have been proud," Rewind commented.

    "Would he have been?" Minimus asked. "I don't think anyone who knew him is alive today. Alpha Trion had already passed when I left."

    "I dabble in history these days, or at least in whatever Dom's been able to save from the Purge."

    "I thought disposable class weren't allowed to have such interests."

    "Dom was able to pull some strings to get me promoted to research assistant," Rewind said. "Believe me, if I was still d-class, I would be instant scrap for using a computer terminal without permission."

    The three of them eventually reached the spaceport' passage to the classless area of Cybertron. As they stood in line to show their identification to the hulking Functionary officer standing guard, Minimus looked around and noticed something he found peculiar.

    "Rewind, is it just me or... are there more of you around? More data-slugs?"

    "More like fewer other people," Rewind said as he showed his ID to the Functionary. "The Council have made tons of mass recalls while you were gone-- Cybertronian and non alike. The laser pointers, the waste allocators, the Lunabots--"

    "Lunabots? But they were astro class-- the Functionists never touched them."

    "Not until we lost a Luna satellite to even go to."

    Musing over this, it took Minimus a minute to realize that he had not been given clearance by the Functionary, who was instead frowning at his ID-- or, rather, frowning more than usual.

    "Is there a problem, officer?" Minimus asked. "I am alt mode exempt. Primal Vanguard. See?"

    "Your status symbol is out of date."

    "Well, I have been--"

    "I require proof of function. Let me examine your transformation cog?"

    "Pardon me?" Minimus said, somewhat bewildered. "Don't you need me to show you my alt mode first?"

    "Ever since the incident with the Pretenders, our security checks have become a bit more direct," the officer grunted. "Now let me see your transformation cog."

    Grudgingly, Minimus complied with the order and lowered his chest panel to expose his spark and T-cog. As the Functionary started to scan it, a sudden cry was heard coming from behind him.

    "Outta my way!"

    Colliding into the Functionary and knocking him and Minimus to the ground was a damaged mech in brown and white, looking panicked and distraught.

    "Wait... Rocket?" Minimus murmured, recognizing his old friend. "Rocket, is that you?"

    The Lunabot paid him no heed as he ran into the crowd, pushing other mechs and femmes out of the way. In pursuit of him was another Functionary, who stopped to help his fellow officer up.

    "Where the slag did he come from?" the first Functionary muttered.

    "He was hiding in the hangars, along with another one-- a waste allocator. Both of them are deranged; guess their obs chips only did half the job."

    The Functionary grunted as he got to his feet. "Keep your optics out for the other one. This one's mind."

    Minimus could only watch in horror as the Functionary raised his arm blaster at the fleeing Lunabot and fired, blasting Rocket's head to smithereens. No sooner had the dead Lunabot's body fallen to the floor when another cry was heard.

    "Ee-vah!"

    All heads turned to see a small, cube-shaped robot rolling through the spaceport, dashing under passers-by legs as it tried to make its way towards Minimus, Rewind, and EVE. Before it could reach its destination, the other Functionary fired his own weapon. This time, there wasn't even a body left for a harvester unit to recover.

   Shaken by this entire incident, Minimus nonetheless hid it as he, Rewind, and EVE turned and left the spaceport while one of the Functionaries called into his communicator.

    "This is Functionary 664 to the Cog. Subject is terminated. Repeat: the last of the Lunabots and waste allocators have been recalled."

    No one in the crowd paid any of these events any heed. After all, for the past twenty thousand years, it had all become simply another part of life.

WHEN TIME RUNS OUT

Part II: A Better Tomorrow

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light I, Chapter Nine and Epilogue

CHAPTER NINE

--The Lost Light, the bridge--

    "Well, the hyper-drive still has fully recharged yet, but Que says he's gotten into contact with someone in the Secret Service," Rodimus announced as he stepped onto the bridge with Perceptor and Que behind, the latter carrying WALL-E in his hands. "They should be meeting up with us soon."

    "How soon?" Ultra Magnus said, turning from the viewport.

    "Soon soon. Like, any minute now." Rodimus then turned to Drift, who was waiting by the command chair with Skids. "Drift, would you...?"

    "Sure." Drift beckoned Skids to step forward. Upon seeing WALL-E, the latter Autobot's optics widened.

    "WALL-E? What in Primus' name are you doing here?"

    "Long story," the robot replied. "You probably--"

    "And since when did you learn to speak full sentences? And in Cybertronian?"

    "You can thank me for that," Que said. "Rodimus needed me to install one in him so the rest of the crew could understand him easier."

    "Oh." Skids frowned slightly. "No offense but I found it more... challenging to speak with him when he didn't talk. You know, getting to understand body language and stuff."

    "Yeah, well, not everyone on this ship is looking for a challenge, sad to say," Rodimus said. "Besides, we have more pressing matters-- like how we're going to get WALL-E back to his timeline and finding out how he even got here in the first place."

    "Good news in that respect," Mainframe said from his station. "Autobot ship exiting hyperspace."

    Rodimus grinned. "Awesome."

--Later, Shuttle Bay 1--

    "You know, when Que told me I'd may see some familiar faces, I didn't think he meant really familiar." The black and white Autobot broke into a wide grin as he stepped off of his ship. "Skids, man, it's been ages."

    "I'll say," Skids said with a grin. "Good to see you again, Ricochet."

    The flame-decal bearing Autobot joined his fellow agent and exchanged pats on the back with him. Standing off to the side with Ultra Magnus, Que, and WALL-E, Rodimus cleared his throat.

    "So, uh, Ricochet... you got that Transwarp drive we need?"

    "Sure do," Ricochet said, turning to face the captain. "What do you need it for again?"

    "To bring this little guy home," Rodimus replied, gesturing at WALL-E.

    Ricochet got down on his knees to look at the small robot more closely. "What is he, some sort of Mini-Con?"

    "Um, no, he's an Earth robot. From the future."

    "Nifty." The black Autobot straightened up. "What does he turn into? A gun? A mobile turret? A portable space bridge?"

    "He doesn't--"

    "A perfect replica of himself?"

    "He doesn't turn into anything," Rodimus said.

    "Oh." Ricochet rubbed his chin. "What can he do?"

    "I can compact stuff into cubes," WALL-E said.

    "Is that all?"

    "...Pretty much."

    "Bummer." Ricochet rubbed his hands together. "So, let me just get the Transwarp drive hooked up to you engines and then I'll be on my way."

    "You're not staying?" Skids asked.

    "'Fraid not. Prowl's got me on this mission and he wants it done asap. You know how pushy he gets."

    "Yeah," Skids murmured. "I hear ya."

--Hab Suite 208--

    "So... what were you trying to accomplish with that story?" Chromedome asked as he entered his and Rewind's room.

    The archivist sighed as he seated himself on his recharge slab. "You know I love history...."

    "Yeah, but... it felt like you were trying to find a deeper meaning to it all."

    Rewind was silent for a moment, keeping his gaze fixated on the floor. "Everyone is connected, Domey... one way or another." He then looked up at Chromedome. "This wasn't my first story session, and it might not be the last. I'm treating it like a puzzle, trying to piece them all together."

    "Into what, exactly?"

    Rewind gave him a meaningful look. Then, the realization dawned on Chromedome.

    "You're trying to find Dominus Ambus through these connections."

    Rewind nodded, casting his gaze down again. "Someone must know what happened to him. Someone must have known him or saw him right before he vanished. He has to be out there, Domey."

    Chromedome sat down next to Rewind and patted him on the back.

    "Don't worry. We'll find him," he said reassuringly. "I promised you that we would and I'm not backing down from that promise. No matter what happens on this quest, we'll find him."

    A sound akin to a sob escaped Rewind's vocal processor before hugging the mnemosurgeon's side. "I'm still holding you to that...." 

--Swerve's--

    "Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through."

    The bar had not been reopened for more than twenty minutes and it was already bustling with activity. Brainstorm squeezed his way through the busy crowd, clutching his briefcase, before finally reaching a table which Atomizer sat at. The inventor sat himself down, setting his briefcase onto the table.

    "So busy," he muttered.

    "I'll say," Atomizer said as he refilled his glass. "But what else did you expect? We're a long way from Maccadam's, so it's good to have some sort of substitute." 

    "I'll drink to that," Brainstorm said as he began to undo the locks of his briefcase.

    Atomizer looked down at it and cleared his throat. "Oh, er, Swerve's put up a new rule. No guns, no swords, and, uh, no briefcases, so, er...."

    The inventor was undeterred as he proceeded to undo the last clasp.

    "Brainstorm? Are you even listening? You can't do that."

    "Oh, really?" Brainstorm said quietly. "Well, allow me to let you in on a little secret."

    He then lifted the briefcase's lid. All around him, everyone dropped down to the floor.

    "I can do whatever the heck I want."

EPILOGUE

--Cybertron, 1,500 years ago--

    "--Being made to ensure that an event like this never happens again," the visage of Councilor Proteus was saying as the viewscreen transmitted his speech in Iacon. "The Clampdown is still in full effect; in short time, no one will dare disrupt the peace."

    "Changeover," an Institute worker said to his coworker as he walked over to the latter's station. "Anything to report?"

    "They brought in someone earlier today," the other worker said. "A High Councilor-- name of Avalon, I think. Lobe's been talking about how much fun he and his cerebrosurgeons are going to have with--"

    The second worker trailed off as he changed his viewscreen to the room Avalon had been transported to-- only to receive nothing but static.

    "Ah, slag, not again," he muttered. "It's been acting like this all day. Dunno if it's the storm or what."

    "I'll go check the array outside," the first worker said. "You stay here and watch the screen."

    "Wait, Lobe's trying to get a hold of me." The second worker tuned into his communicator and listened. He then said to his coworker, "He says that someone broke into the room they were keeping Avalon and caused a blackout. They've just brought the lights back on and...."

    "What?" the first worker asked.

    "He says Avalon's spark is missing."

*  *  *

    The lone Triorian Guardsman stood atop the rooftop of a building in Ultrix, far away from his designated station at the Grand Imperium. If his superiors knew he was out here, they would put an end to his life faster than one could cross the Tygun Span. But he was past the point of caring. He knew there were more important matters to attend to.

    He hadn't been waiting for long when the being he was supposed to meet materialized before him. They were certainly not Cybertronian, nor were they even mechanical, but they had an armored appearance that allowed them to blend in with others.

    Holding out a clawed hand, the alien said, "Do you have it?"

    "Affirmative, General," the Triple Changer said as he handed the encased spark to his contact. 

    The alien took it and examined it closely before saying, "You have done exceptional work, OC-072. I will see to it that you are given proper commendation by my superiors."

    "Unnecessary. I am only doing this for the sake of the Grand Plan."

    "You may not be around to see it come to fruition. The endgame may very well be thousands of years from now, if not millions."

    "Nevertheless. What must be done shall be so."

    The alien smirked. "Indeed. Until we meet again...."

    With that, the being faded away and the Triple Changer converted to his jet mode, flying off into the nighttime sky. He was fully aware of what punishment awaited him back at the Grand Imperium, but he was past the point of caring.

    For, in the end, none of it would matter. One day, Cybertron's true rulers would return to take back what was theirs, and only then would peace be fully restored.

TO BE CONTINUED