Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

--Metroplex--

    "You took her prisoner?"

    "I saw it as the preferable option, sir," Ginrai said as he walked alongside Dai Atlas down a hallway within the mobile Titan. "I wasn't comfortable with letting her roam free."

    Dai Atlas sighed. "We're on a mission, Ginrai. We can't afford to take passengers or prisoners -- especially if it's only because of a Decepticon insignia on their armor."

    "I understand that, sir. But if she were to follow us--"

    "Then let her follow us. She is only one Decepticon while we are many -- perhaps not as many as before, but enough so."

   Ginrai frowned beneath his faceplate but did not press the matter as he and Dai Atlas stepped onto the bridge, where other members of the reformed Circle of Light were manning the controls.

    "Any progress?" Dai Atlas asked, stepping towards the command chair.

    His second-in-command, Star Saber, turned and Ginrai felt a pang of irritation. No more than seven months ago, Star Saber had been working for the unhinged Chief Justice Tyrest and thus indirectly for the Heralds of Unicron. Although Star Saber had realized the errors of his ways and made peace with Dai Atlas, Ginrai was still uncertain of the choice to make him second-in-command of the Circle. Even forgetting his dark past, he was nowhere near as experienced as Ginrai, Outrigger, or even Axe.

    "We seem to have a lead, sir," Star Saber was saying, forcing Ginrai to save his thoughts for another time. "We have reached the planet Junkion--"

    "Junkion?" Dai Atlas said with a frown. "You think we'll find an artifact of the Primes there?"

    "No, although I wouldn't rule out the possibility. Beta Maxx says the natives are wells of information and might provide us with something to go off of. From what Alpha Trion has told him, Junkion was discovered by the Primes and only colonized by Nova Prime for that reason."

    Dai Atlas looked at the Mini-Con known as the Beta Maxx, who stood at the navigational grid with Outrigger. "I find it hard to believe the Primes would even bother naming a 'planet' such as Junkion."

    Beta Maxx shrugged. "Truth is stranger than fiction, as they say."

    Dai Atlas smirked before turning back to Star Saber. "Junkion it is then."

    "Primus guide us all," Ginrai muttered.

--The Tidal Wave--

    "I hope that spawn of a glitch knows what he's doing," Misfire said as he paced back and the forth in the quarters he and the other Scavengers had been given. Not to any of their surprise, the room was barely large enough for two bots, let alone five, with only one recharge slab, which Krok was currently using.

    Fulcrum stood closest to the door, still contemplating whether he'd be better off shooting himself out the airlock rather than stick with the Star Seekers. "At this point, Misfire, I have to wonder if any of us know what we're doing. We could have easily stayed on Cybertron after all that Unicron nonsense -- but no, that would have been the sensible thing."

    "Nothing was stopping you from staying behind," Misfire said snidely. "Wouldn't make a jot of difference to us -- other than it meant we all got a larger share of energon."

    "Energon siphoner!" Spinister said abruptly, pointing an accusing finger at Fulcrum.

    Fulcrum rolled his optics. "Arguably, that could be applied to either one of us. Krok leaves, no big deal. Crankcase leaves, no big deal."

   "How about Fulcrum, Misfire, Krok, and Crankcase leave," Spinister said. "Then I get everything and don't have to share."

    "Spinister, ol' buddy, ol' pal." Misfire walked over to the other Scavenger and patted him on the shoulder. "If it weren't for us being around, you wouldn't be able to find your way out of the Rishi Maze with a map."

    "Maps are for chumps."

    "Yes, and you are definitely not a chump, Spinister. You are your own special brand of stupid."

    "Ha! Exactly!" Spinister shot Fulcrum a smug look. "See? I'm special. You're not."

    As Fulcrum mulled over whether or not that statement deserved a response, the door opened and Crankcase stepped in, looking as grumpy as ever.

    "Ah, the scowling sensation returns!" Misfire proclaimed.

    "How did things go?" Fulcrum asked. "Did you give Cannonball the coordinates, or are you leading him on a wild mysticorn chase that'll likely end up with our deaths?"

    "And here I thought I was the pessimist," Crankcase grunted. "Anyways, cool your gears. I gave him the coordinates and they're legit."

    "So it's true then? You really served on board the Harbinger?"

    "Why the surprise? I thought you've all never heard of it."

    "Oh no, we've heard of it all right," Misfire said. "Every Decepticon has heard of the stories -- that the Harbinger carries untold riches and such scrap. But most of 'em all shrug it off as a myth. Even my old pal Springload would scoff at it, and he was still searching for Doradus last I saw him."

    "What about you?" Crankcase asked. "Mr. I-Thought-I-Saw-The-Necrobot?"

    "I would believe them if they weren't so self-contradictory. One bot might say it was lost at the Siege at Massunstrad while another might say it was taken by the Destructons. And don't get me started on what its supposed treasures are. I've heard everything from the Key to Vector Sigma to the Heart of Cybertron to Spinister's brain module."

    "Well, none of them are true," Crankcase said. "I was never told what exactly the cargo was, other than it was something Megatron was planning to look into in the future."

    "So what happened then?" Fulcrum asked. "Did the ship crash or what?"

    Crankcase opened his mouth to answer but then stopped, as if thinking twice. He then shook his head.

    "Later," he muttered. "We'll talk later."

    Fulcrum frowned but did not press the matter further. Misfire, on the other hand, looked like he was about to, but before he could do so, Krok stirred in the recharge slab. As the Scavenger leader came back online and started to disconnect himself, Spinister jumped to his feet and wrenched Krok free from the slab, tossing him aside.

    "Mine now," Spinister said, quickly hooking himself up before powering down.

    After ratting off a good number of curses, Krok got back to his feet and saw Crankcase standing there. "Well?" he said. "Where are your coordinates taking us?"

    Crankcase looked down at the floor, shifting his feet as he gave his answer. "Junkion."

    "Junkion?" Misfire exclaimed. "The Harbinger is on Junkion? The Planet of Junk? The World of the Living Garbage?"

    "If you're trying to make a point, then make it already, you dipstick!" Crankcase snapped.

    "Hey now." Misfire held up his hands, clearly trying not to laugh. "I'm just saying. I mean, if you take into account all the myths and the irony of it being on--"

    "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burst your little fantasy bubble. You wanna know something else? The Necrobot isn't real, nor are the Knights of Cybertron. There is no Cyberutopia or Doradus, there is no such thing as a Decepticon Matrix, and guess what? Ultra Magnus isn't secretly a Decepticon. How you like that?"

    "Both of you, shut up," Krok said irritably. "So we get to Junkion, and then what? Knowing these Star Seekers, they'll most likely leave us stranded there once they have their prize. Pirates never keep their end of a deal, especially when it pertains them sharing."

    Crankcase scoffed. "Fine. I'll leave the diplomacy to you next time."

    A knock suddenly sounded at the door. Exchanging looks with the others, Krok cautiously stepped up to the door and opened it. Outside was a gray and blue mech, standing a good head taller than the four Decepticons.

    "Sorry to bother you," the Star Seeker said. "I couldn't help but overhear certain parts of your conversation--"

    "Slag off," Crankcase interjected. "Last thing we need is you Star Seekers eavesdropping on us."

    "Please, hear me out. My name is Axer. I'm not... I'm not exactly one of them. I only joined them when I had no choice, and I only stayed when the alternative was clearly no better."

    "So what do you want then?" Krok asked. "And why should we even trust a word you say?"

    Axer sighed. "Okay, look, I get that the Star Seekers aren't your most favorite of bots -- they aren't mine either. But at the very least, consider my offer.

    "You already know that Cannonball isn't going to stay true to his word; that he's going to ditch you the first chance he gets. And while you may not know what's on the Harbinger... I might have a vague idea of what it is. And if Cannonball were to get his hands on it, all of us will suffer the consequences.

    "So if you want any chance of getting out of this alive, you will take up my offer and do exactly what I tell you to do, and you'll get more reward than you ever bargained for."

    "And what do you get out of it?" Fulcrum asked.

    Axer smirked. "Good question. Let's just say I've set up my plan to benefit all of us in the end."

    Krok folded his arms. "And you're certain this plan will work?"

    "Provided you guys don't screw it up, yes."

    "Fine. What do you want us to do?"

    "Follow me to the engine rooms," Axer said. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

--The Tidal Wave--

    "This one's waking up."

    "The one with the chin?"

    "Yeah. Funny; now that you mention it, it does look a bit abnormally large."

    Fulcrum's optics came back online for him to see two mechs standing over him. One of them, a gray and yellow beast flier, immediately grabbed him by the stasis cuffs and pulled him up to his feet. As the Star Seeker dragged him towards a door, Fulcrum caught a glimpse of Krok and the others slumped against the wall, unconscious.

    "Keep watch over these four, Ferak," the black mech said. "Let me know when the next one wakes up."

    The pirate then opened the door and Fulcrum was brought onto the bridge, where he found over a dozen Star Seekers crewing the ship. The flier pulled him directly over to the captain of the Tidal Wave, seated up on his bronze-colored throne.

    "Ah, hello, Brimstone," the pirate leader said as he grinned at Fulcrum. "And who do we have here?"

    "One of the Decepticons Cruellock's team captured," Brimstone said as he released Fulcrum at the captain's feet. "The others are still in stasis, including the one we're presuming to be the leader."

    "And how do you know this one isn't?"

    "Well... frankly, captain, he doesn't look the part. I mean, Ferak told me his build matches the K-Class -- meaning he's a suicide bomber, who obviously failed to do his job. And, well... just look at him."

    "Remember, Brimstone, they're called Decepticons for a reason." The captain leaned back in his seat and folded his hands. "Tell me, Decepticon, what is your name and purpose?"

    "M-my name is Fulcrum. I'm a scavenger."

    The captain frowned. "A scavenger? You mean you scrounge for spare parts?"

    "Yes, all across the galaxy. It's not an easy life, I'll grant you, but it is what it is."

    "So you're a pirate, basically... just without the style."

    "Yes, and the numbers," Fulcrum muttered. "Although, when we found out we were in your clutches, I advocated for us to join you--"

    The captain belted out a harsh laugh, startling Fulcrum. "Is that right? From the sounds of it, your friends didn't show much enthusiasm."

    "Yes, well, I never said they agreed with me...."

    The captain chuckled again. "You're a clever one, lad. But cleverness alone won't make you a Star Seeker. Surely you had some use in the Decepticon army before becoming a scavenger."

    Fulcrum frowned. "Uh, to tell you the truth--"

    Before he could finish, the Star Seeker known as Ferak walked onto the bridge, dragging the now-conscious Krok and Misfire behind him.

    "These two came back online," he muttered, dropping the Decepticons onto the deck. "And if anyone asks, I don't know them."

    With that, he left the bridge with Brimstone, leaving the three Scavengers with the captain. The latter had suddenly become silent, staring coolly at Krok in particular.

    "Ugh, some welcoming committee," Misfire said as he gave the bridge a displeased look. "I wasn't exactly expecting a 'Novic Medal ceremony' but I've seen places in the Dead End better looking than this."

    "Um, Misfire?" Fulcrum said, glancing nervously at the captain. "I'd keep your comments to yourself in front of these guys."

    However, the captain showed no sign of having heard Misfire, still staring coldly at Krok. The Scavenger leader met his gaze and returned it.

    "Krok," the captain growled.

    "Headshot," Krok replied.

    "That's not my name anymore," the captain snapped. "It's no longer who I am. You may refer to me as Cannonball."

    "Ah, yes. I thought I recognized your new color scheme. Carrying on the legacy, are you? The Decepticon lifestyle too glorified for your liking?"

    Cannonball smirked in a way that made Krok's fists curl. "Better than yours, from what I've gathered. Unless scavenging is now consider glorifying these days."

    Krok's optics narrowed and Fulcrum thought he was going to lash out at the pirate captain. However, before anything could come about, there was a loud crash against the door, which then opened to allow Spinister's banged up form to tumble in, followed by Brimstone, Ferak, another Star Seeker, and a restrained Crankcase.

    "Apologies for the interruption," Brimstone said. "Someone woke up a little cranky."

    "Evidently," Cannonball said. "Well then, now that the gang is all here, it's time to get down to business."

    "What do you want, Cannonball?" Krok asked, saying the name with thinly-veiled disdain.

    "Answers. Details." Cannonball leaned forward, smiling menacingly. "The whereabouts of the Harbinger."

    Five blank expressions were his only reaction.

    Cannonball looked from one Scavenger to the other, still expecting some sort of response. When he got none, his smile was replaced by a scowl. "The Harbinger? Decepticon warship? Anyone?"

    "How in the Pit would we know where it is?" Misfire asked. "It could be a wreck on Goo for all we know."

    "That's the point," Cannonball said. "It's been lost for centuries. It could be a wreck, it could still be floating around in space; nobody knows. But the more we know about it, the closer we can get to it."

    "What interest do you have in a Decepticon ship?" Fulcrum asked. "Why this specific one?"

    "If you knew anything about the ship, you wouldn't be asking that." Cannonball leaned back, folding his hands. "If none of you have anything useful to tell us, then there's an airlock waiting for you. If you give us nothing but falsehoods, then there's a smelting chamber waiting for you, so choose your words wisely... and quickly. My patience is starting to run thin."

    Fulcrum glanced at the others, seeing that they were all at as much of a loss as he was... except for Crankcase. He was frowning, which wasn't anything unusual, but he also appeared to be preparing to speak, albeit undecided whether to do so or not.

    When he finally did, no one was prepared for what he said.

    "I know where it is."

    The other Scavengers stared at him in bemusement while Cannonball looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he said. "Where is it?"

    "I can give you the coordinates," Crankcase said. "But I have a condition."

    Cannonball sneered. "You are in no position to have one."

    "I'm pretty sure I do," Crankcase said with a glare. "I also have a remote connected to a bomb on our ship. One press of a button and everything goes boom."

    The captain scoffed. "I think you're bluffing." 

    "Am I?" Crankcase asked and Cannonball locked optics with him. The two went off into a stare-down, one which Fulcrum didn't expect to go over well. However, much to his and the others' surprise, Crankcase maintained his tough expression and Cannonball backed down.

    "You may still be bluffing," the captain muttered. "But considering you're the first person to give me any kind of lead on this, I would be remiss to turn down such an opportunity. What is your condition?"

    "That we get paid the same value as the thing you seek."

    "You know then what it is I seek?"

    "Of course I do. Because I've been on the Harbinger. I know what it carries. And I know why you want it."

    Cannonball mulled over his words before saying, "Very well. We have a deal. Axer?"

    The Star Seeker who had arrived with Brimstone and Ferak stood to attention. "Captain?"

    "Find these mechs some living quarters to make them comfortable. I feel we're in for one heck of a ride."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--The W.A.P--

    "So how do we want to approach this?" Misfire asked as he and the other Scavengers stood huddled by the entrance ramp. "Guns blazing? Or just surrender?"

    "Quiet, I'm trying to think," Krok snapped, a clicking sound coming from his clenched fist. "We're grossly outnumbered by them, so attack would be suicide...."

    "Feh," Crankcase grunted. "Never did want to live forever?"

    "Our best bet is to probably just surrender," Fulcrum said. "Or, better yet, join them--"

    "Are you crazy?!" Crankcase snapped, slapping Fulcrum upside the head. "Did you forget about that badge on your helmet? We're Decepticons, not petty pirates like them."

    "We're not exactly all that dissimilar," Fulcrum retorted. "We raid, we steal, we loot... only difference is what insignia we wear."

    "Except the Star Seeker are ruthless to each other when it comes to sharing," Krok said. "Those leg motors you need? They would've been gone before you could even lay your optics on them."

    Fulcrum sighed. "So I guess it's death then."

    "Well, fellas, it's been nice knowing you guys," Misfire said as he readied his gun. "Except you, Crankcase. And you, Spinister. And Krok... okay, I really don't give a slag about any of you, but it's been fun, yeah?"

    "Forget you losers," Spinister said, moving to open the ramp. "I'm giving these blokes a piece of--"

    "Spinister, no!" Krok hissed, grabbing the other Decepticon's hand. "You'll get us all killed if you go out there now."

    "Weren't we gonna all die anyway?" Spinister asked.

    "We're not going to die. Help is on the--"

    Before Krok could finish, the ramp lowered itself and the Scavengers were faced with over a dozen Star Seekers, guns pointed at them.

    "So much for that," Crankcase muttered.

    "Relax, guys, I've got this." Misfire started to draw his weapon but Fulcrum stopped him.

    "No, you don't! We have a better chance at escaping than you do of actually hitting them."

    "There are, like, twenty of them," Misfire retorted. "How could I possibly miss?"

    With that, he pulled the trigger of his gun and the shot bounced off of the floor and onto the ceiling, taking out a light fixture. In response, one of the Star Seekers fired a stun bolt, knocking out Misfire.

    "As usual, it's up to me to get things done," Crankcase growled as he flipped out a pair of shoulder launchers. The same Star Seeker took him out before he could use them while another incapacitated Spinister and Krok. Left alone and defenseless, Fulcrum held up his hands as the pirates pointed their weapons at him.

    "Don't shoot!" he pleaded. "I'm unarmed! I'm no threat to you!"

    "You take us for idiots?" the first Star Seeker growled. "I know a K-class body type when I see one. You're literally a walking bomb."

    "No, no, wait! Hear me out! I had my explosives removed--"

    "Right, I'm sure." The pirate aimed his weapon at Fulcrum, smirking mirthlessly. "Nighty-night," he said as he fired the gun.

--The bridge--

    "What did I miss?"

    Stronghorn refrained from sighing as he tuned to the waking Cannonball. "Nothing, sir. Still no sign of the Harbinger."

    "Nothing at all?" Cannonball asked.

    "Well...." Stronghorn hesitated for a moment before continuing. "We did find a Decepticon ship--"

    "You did?" Cannonball nearly launched from his seat, anger crossing his face. "Why didn't you wake me? I should have been informed!"

    "It's of little importance," Stronghorn said. "We're simply raiding it for supplies."

    Cannonball scowled as he sat back down. "If you say so," he grunted. "I'm growing rather tired of this lack of progress."

    "I agree," Stronghorn said. "We could very well be spending eons scouring the galaxy for this ship. And for all we know, it could be crashed on some planet rather than still out in space."

    "Yes," Cannonball muttered. "Decepticon ships do have a tendency to crash."

    "Captain?" A crew member turned in her seat to address Cannonball. "I have Cruellock on the line. He says they've got five Decepticons in stasis lock. What do you want him to do with them?"

    The Star Seeker captain rubbed his chin. He glanced at Stronghorn, who met his gaze, informing him that they were on the same level of thinking. Smirking, Cannonball turned back to the crew member. 

    "Tell him to bring them onto the bridge, Nightwing. I think a round of questioning is in order."

--Space--

    "Any luck yet, Foldspace?"

    "Of course not!" The old Mini-Con snapped at Spacewarp from within her alt mode. "How am I supposed to find a single Decepticon ship out of Primus knows how many?"

    "Just keep scanning for Decepticon spark signals," Spacewarp said as she maneuvered through an asteroid belt. "Most of them would have gone back to Cybertron or New Kaon by now, so if there are any of them out here now--"

    "Wait," Foldspace said. "I'm picking up a ship."

    "Decepticon or Autobot?"

    "Neither. It's alive."

    Spacewarp came to a stop, morphing to her robot mode and landing on a large asteroid. Foldspace deployed from her and perched on her outstretched arm.

    "What do you mean, 'it's alive?'" she asked.

    "I mean it has a spark. The ship has a spark. I detected other spark signatures as well, but the ship has one of its own."

    "Are you sure?"

    The Mini-Con scowled. "You don't believe me?"

    "Your processor has proven to be less than reliable in the past. Where is this ship?"

    "Somes parsecs outside of the field. It's near some planet called... Hydrophena, I believe? Something like that."

    "Well, unless they know where Krok's gone off to, we'll have to past on investigating that little--"

    Before Spacewarp could finish, she heard a voice crackle in her audio sensors via intercom. It sounded gruff and commanding, a combination she found to be a bad sign.

    "Attention, Decepticon! State your business now before I shoot you!"

    Turning around, Spacewarp found three Cybertronians floating before her: an orange mech, from which the voice had originated from; a winged blue and red mech; and a slender red and orange femme. All three had their guns pointed at her.

    "I repeat," the first one said. "State your--"

    "What, is this Autobot turf?" Spacewarp said snappishly. "I don't see your logo anywhere on these rocks."

    "We are not Autobots," the mech retorted. "Well, these two are, but we call ourselves the Cybertronian Knights, warriors of the reformed Circle of Light."

    "The Circle of Light? Isn't that Dai Atlas' crazy lot? I thought you were all huddled on Theophany?"

    "Our city fell to the undead legions of the Chaos Bringer. But we have since begun rebuilding our order, protecting the galaxy from those who seek to do ill will."

    "Ah," Spacewarp said. "Well, luckily for you, I'm not here to do any 'ill-will.' Just going about my merry way through the stars."

    "Decepticons aren't one for merry flights," the blue one grunted.

    "Then you haven't met many Decepticons, hon."

    "Regardless of what you claim your intentions are, we can't let you go until we've cleared you through intergalactic customs," the orange mech said. "All Decepticons not on Cybertron or New Kaon require a special identification chip. Unless you can provide one within the next five seconds...."

    "Identification? Since when was that a thing?"

    "Since the war ended six months ago." The mech and his companions all raised their guns. "And congratulations; you just bought yourself a holding cell on our ship."

    Spacewarp's mind raced. Converting to her alt mode, she attempted to fly away from the trio, but one of them fired at her rear thrusters, sending her spinning in zero gravity. Before she could return to her robot mode, a stun bolt struck her back, sending her into stasis lock....

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--Sheol Casino, Monacus--

    "People ask me all the time, 'How do you guys get your names?' I mean, who names their protoform 'Skullcruncher', am I right?"

    The green and magenta mech stood before a crowd of hundreds, mainly comprised of organics of all sorts, with one or two robots thrown into the mix. Shifting his microphone stand to his other hand, Skullcruncher went on with his routine.

    "'Well,' I tell them, 'it all depends on how you're born.' See, if you're a Cybertronian and you got forged or constructed cold before the war, your name is one of the first things your brain module processes. It's simply a natural thing, regardless if it's given to you by some divine right or whatever.

    "M.T.O.s, however -- Made-to-Order soldiers, for those of you who don't know -- their names get assigned to them by the commanding officer that thawed them out. For example, there was this one M.T.O., the very moment he thawed out, the very first word out of his mouth was -- you might wanna cover your audio sensors, young ones -- frag."

    Some in the crowd broke into a fit of giggles while others just shook their head.

    "I know, right?" Skullcruncher went on. "And the commander, he's just standing there while his bots are trying to keep from laughing. Then he puts his hand on the M.T.O. and says, 'Welcome to the Decepticon Empire, Swearengine of the Daffodil Invasion.'"

    The entire audience broke out laughing and Skullcruncher grinned, proud of himself. The rest of the routine went smoothly and he left the stage with a huge round of applause. Arriving backstage, he found the casino manager waiting, a huge grin on both of his mouths.

    "You were simply wonderful, Mr. Skullcruncher!" the manager said. "I don't think I've ever heard such hearty laughter that wasn't part of a brawl."

    The Decepticon smirked as he started packing his equipment. "Just living the post-war dream. I admit, this is the biggest audience I've had so far. I can't imagine how even bigger it will be at the Tangean Royal Amphitheater."

    The manager started wringing his hands, frowning now. "Must you leave so soon?"

    "I have to be on Tangea by tomorrow. Why?"

    "Well, it's just that, Lord Gyconi will be visiting the casino next week and the future of our business depends on his satisfaction--"

    "Then I hope you find someone else to make him happy, 'cause it's not gonna be me," Skullcruncher grunted as he slammed his breifcase shut and made for the exit, his leg brushing past the smaller organic.

    "Please, sir, at least reconsider!" the manager pleaded after him. "We'll double your pay! We'll even cover your passport!"

    "Buzz off, fleshling, before I show you why they call me 'Skullcruncher.'"

    With that closing remark, Skullcruncher pushed through the doors and stepped out into Sheoul's streets... where he walked right into another mechanoid. Due to his burly size, he wasn't knocked back that much, but that didn't make him any less angry.

    "Hey, watch it!" he started to snarl, only to do a double take and see who it was.

    "Hey, 'Cruncher," the gray and purple femme said wryly. "Long time no see."

    "Spacewarp?" Skullcruncher replied, his animosity vanishing instantly. "Spark, no kidding. It's been, what, a hundred years?"

    "More or less," Spacewarp replied. "The time goes by so fast when you're out exploring space."

    Skullcruncher chuckled. "I bet. C'mon, the spaceport isn't far from here. Care to join me for a walk?"

    Spacewarp shook her head. "I'm not here to reconnect with you, 'Cruncher. I'm on a job."

    The other Decepticon's face fell. "Oh. Why are you here then?"

    "I'm looking for an old teammate of ours. Remember Krok? The mech with the pet alloygator?"

    "Yeah, I remember him. Think he got demoted to foot soldier after we lost Klo to the Lightning Strike Coalition. Couldn't tell ya' if he's still alive, though."

    "When was the last time you saw him?"

    "Spark, I don't know. Might've run into him during the Rorsha Campaign, but that would've been over three centuries ago."

    Spacewarp stepped closer to Skullcruncher, making the other Decepticon feel uncomfortable. "Come on, 'Cruncher; we're friends, aren't we? There's no need to lie to me."

    "Why would I lie to you?" Skullcruncher asked, growing nervous each second. "I'm serious, I haven't seen Krok in years."

    "Then tell me how he was able to buy a demoleculaization gun off of you last cycle?"

    Skullcruncher's mouth fell agape. "How... how did you know...?"

    "You can thank Foldspace's hacking skills for that. He may be a senile Mini-Con, but he can hack a Shanix account like no one's business. You might want to consider using Cassanian quadrocheques as currency; much more secure."

    Skullcruncher's shoulders slumped. "Okay, you got me. I ran into Krok while preparing for my tour on Scarvix and he offered to buy tech off me. I needed the money to launch my tour, so I sold him my gun. When he left, he made me swear not to tell anyone I saw him."

    "Did he say why?"

    "Nope. And don't ask me where he is now, 'cos I have no clue. I did catch a glimpse of his ship though; a Model 84 Vanguard-class interceptor, painted in purple."

    Spacewarp rubbed her chin. "Interesting. He must be desperate if he's flying a stolen Autobot ship."

    "Yeah, must be." Skullcruncher revved slightly as he said, "So, will that be all? I've gotta be down by the spaceport soon."

    "Yes, 'Cruncher, that will be all. Thank you for your time."

    With that, Spacewarp morphed to her ship mode and took off. Skullcruncher waited until she was gone before taking out his datapad and accessing his banking account from it. A hunch tickled his mind, but he knew it couldn't possibly be true; as shady as she was at times, there was no way Spacewarp would be low enough as to--

    All savings spent, were what the words on the small screen read. 

    Skullcruncher gritted his teeth. "That slagging spawn of--"

--The Weak Anthropic Principle--

    "--Mortilus!" Crankcase swore loudly from the control seat.

    "What is it now?" Krok asked as he walked into the cockpit.

    "We're getting pulled out of hyperspace," Crankcase grumbled, working hastily with the controls.

    Krok's eyes narrowed. "That's not good."

    "Of course it isn't! When is it ever?"

    "It means someone's after us," Krok went on, ignoring the other Scavenger. "Could be the D.J.D., back to finish us off. Maybe the Mutacons, after what Spinister said to them."

     At that moment, the starfield reappeared before the W.A.P. as the ship was pulled out from hyperspace. Before it was a far larger vessel, marked by an insignia unmistakable to anyone with spacefaring experience.

    "Try neither," Crankcase muttered. "Try the Star Seekers."

--The Tidal Wave--

    "Captain?"

    The reptilian navigator of the Star Seekers turned in his seat to face the captain of the ship, who was currently dozing off in his chair. Standing next to him, his first mate Stronghorn shook Cannonball lightly in an attempt to rouse him. When that failed, Stronghorn answered the navigator himself.

    "What is it?" he growled.

    "We've pulled a ship out of hyperspace. It's Decepticon-aligned, but it appears to be an Autobot model."

    "It's probably not the one we're looking for then," Stronghorn said. "Just let it go."

    "Are you sure about that?" asked Backslash, the ship's pilot. "It's been a while since we've raided anything and we're a bit low on supplies."

    "We'll get our supplies as soon as we get what we're after."

    "But what if there's something of even more value on that ship?" Backslash asked. "We could be missing something of great opportunity."

    Stronghorn scowled as he mulled over this. Finally, he said, "Fine. Bring them aboard."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

--Centauri I--

    "Can we all agree that this was a huge mistake?"

    Craning his head from where he hung upside down, Crankcase scowled at Misfire. "Only if we can all agree to kill you if we get out of this mess alive."

     Misfire rolled his optics. "Sheesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the recharge slab."

    "Actually, Misfire, I'd say Crankcase is justified in his attitude," Krok said, dangling behind Misfire with Fulcrum and Spinister. "Of all the times to botch up the universal greeting, you had to do it with a race of aliens that eat robots."

    "I did not botch it up! They just don't respect my Pretendian accent."

    "Accent's got nothing to do with it!" Crankcase snapped. "You don't put the 'weep' before the 'bah' and you most certainly don't put the 'ni ni' after the 'bong!'"

    "What difference does it make?"

    "It makes all the difference, you virus-ladden, slag-swimming--"

    "Quiet, guys," Fulcrum hissed. "We've got company."

    From the village that laid up ahead, a crowd of native Centaurians approached the wood-made contraption from which the five Scavengers were being hung by their feet. In the lead was a Centaurian draped in regal robes that covered him head-to-toe. Two servants trailed after him holding the edges of his cloak so it did not lose its pristine look to the trail of slime its wearer left behind.

    As the slug-like aliens came to a stop, a Centaurian decked in armor slithered forward and held out a scroll. He said something in his race's native tongue before rolling it up and looking at the captured Decepticons.

    "Cyber-tro-nians," he said in the Basic dialect, albeit badly enunciating the words. "As ah vee-oh-lation oof code ahk-crek-bahk oof dah Creeon Ah-kord, yoo arr to bee devoured as is arr hol-ee right."

    "Um, I didn't quite catch all of that," Misfire said. "Anyone care to paraphrase?"

    "We broke their law, so they're going to eat us," Krok said flatly.

    "Ah, thank you."

    The regal Centaurian came up to the five Scavengers and sprinkled each of them with some sort of green liquid. He then turned to the crowd and splayed his arms, shouting something in his people's tongue. They responded with cheers and hollers.

    "Anyone care to translate that?" Misfire asked.

    "I think they're ready to eat us," Fulcrum murmured.

    "Ah, I see."

    Fulcrum shot him a look. "You seem eerily calm about all this."

    "That's because I've got everything under control."

    As he said this, Misfire moved slightly so that Fulcrum could see what he was concealing in his bound hands, out of the Centaurians' sight: a handgun.

    Fulcrum's optics dilated. If their deaths weren't already assured, they definitely were now.

    The leader Centaurian then turned back to them and, in unison with the others, opened his mouth to reveal a frightening row of razor-sharp teeth. They started to approach the Scavengers, hunger in their eyes.

    Seeing Misfire already having trouble with his gun, Fulcrum simply closed his optics and got ready for the end. A gunshot went off, brushing past his face. Then he heard a scream... although it didn't sound like either one of the Scavengers.

    Opening one optic, Fulcrum saw that the leader Centaurian was the one howling a pain, a scorching wound in his chest. As the other Centaurians rushed to his aid, Fulcrum glanced at Misfire.

    "Congrats. You actually managed to hit something."

    "Er, that wasn't me," Misfire muttered.

    Before Fulcrum knew it, he was on the ground, the rope around his legs having been sliced by a rotor blade. He then looked up to see Spinister freeing Misfire, Krok, and Crankcase from their entrapped positions.

    "Spinister?" Fulcrum said incredulously. "How did you--?"

    "You guys are total wimps," Spinister grunted. "All you had to do was slide or fold your hands away to get the rope off."

    "Well, we don't all have the same transformation scheme," Krok said as he pulled his bindings off. "Now let's go before--"

    A holler of rage interrupted him and the five Decepticons turned to see the armored Centaurian brandishing his spear, with a dozen others doing the same.

    "Before that."

    "And that, my friends, is why Adaptus gave us the transformation cog," Crankcase said as he converted to his van mode and drove off. Spinister and Misfire followed suit, leaving Krok and Fulcrum to run on foot.

    "Of all the times to become a born-again monoformer," Krok muttered.

    Fulcrum simply sighed wistfully. As far as he was concerned, today was just another day of being a Scavenger.

*  *  *

    "I told you guys I had everything under control," Misfire said as soon as he and the others were back on their ship, the Weak Anthropic Principle.

    "Misfire, you have a better chance at finding a cure for cybercrosis than you do at hitting the broad side of Broadside," Crankcase retorted. "The fact that Spinister could hit his target should say a lot."

    "Well, somebody's cranky today," Misfire said with a scoff. "One day you'll be thanking me for saving your metal hide; mark my words."

    "I'm gonna mark your forehead with a blaster if you don't--"

    "Both of you, shut up!" Krok snapped, closing the ship's hatch behind him and Fulcrum. "Crankcase, get us the frag out of here!"

    The former Triggercon quickly went for the cockpit and in seconds they were taking off, leaving a horde of angry Centaurians behind them.

    Once they were out in the clear and jumping to lightspeed, Fulcrum dropped to the floor and slumped against the wall. "I think I busted a leg motor back there. I don't think I'll be able to run like that ever again."

    "I'll search the navigation grid for any scrapyards in the sector," Krok said. "We're dangerously close to Galactic Council territory though. We'll have to tread carefully."

    "Just remember to avoid Constancy at all costs," Fulcrum muttered. "Misfire probably earned us all death sentences when we last went there."

    Misfire threw his arms up in the air. "So I got the munchies! Excuse me for being Cybertronian."

    "Don't expect the Galactic Council to do so," Krok said. "They might just us it as justification for killing you."

    Misfire grumbled to himself before planting himself down next to Fulcrum. While Krok left to study the navgrid and Spinister counted the rivets on the ceiling, Misfire decided to pass the time by pestering the skinnier Decepticon.

    "Wanna see something cool?" he said three times until Fulcrum finally answered him with a sigh.

    "The last time you showed me something 'cool', it was a Sharkticon that nearly bit my head off," he said bitterly.

    "Don't worry, this won't bite; it's not even alive." From a compartment, Misfire drew out a transformation cog and presented it to Fulcrum.

    "How is that cool?" Fulcrum asked. "It's just a t-cog."

    Misfire grinned wickedly. "It may seem like that, but there's a lot more to it than meets the eye."

    "I swear, if you throw it at me--"

    "Relax, I wouldn't make it that obvious." Bringing out the gun he had earlier, Misfire held it up to the t-cog and, before Fulcrum's eyes, the gun morphed into a spanner wrench.

    Fulcrum's mouth fell agape as he stared in awe. "What... where did you get that?"

    "I found it while we were on Neutronia." Misfire suddenly lowered his voice, looking shifty-eyed. "Don't tell the others, though. This is our little secret, yeah?"

    Fulcrum merely rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Prologue

Sorry for the hiatus. I'm back.

TRANSFORMERS REGENERATED

Scavengers: A Regenerated Interlude

PROLOGUE

    Spacewarp hated waiting.

    It wasn't necessarily a matter of patience -- she had plenty when the situation called for it. But what she hated the most about it was being forced to stay in one place.

    She strove for variety. That's why she had no home other than the stars. She lived for exploring the unexplored, for visiting alien worlds and charting undiscovered systems. To be forced to sit in one place in a non-descriptive waiting room was nothing but pure torture for her.

    She glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Five hours had passed since she got here. To her, it might as well have been five decades (and on some planets it might have been. One of the many things she had learned in her travels was that time was relative.)

    Her optics then moved to the door she was anxiously waiting to open. Whoever was in there now had better have a good reason for taking so much time; otherwise, they were going to meet a trusted friend of hers, which she brought with her everywhere she went.

    Another twenty minutes passed before the door finally opened and a Skuxxoid came flying out. Behind him was a burly, dull gray mechanoid was glowering at the porcine alien before giving him a nice swift kick to the rear. He then moved his optical sensors to Spacewarp.

    "Omega Trion will see you now."

    "Finally," Spacewarp muttered as she got up to her feet. Stepping into the next room, she adjusted her optics to the sudden lack of light; only a red hanging lantern provided illumination, and even then, it failed to show any of the mech sitting before her other than his red optics.

    "I apologize for the wait," Omega Trion said, although he sounded anything but apologetic. "Skuxxoids are a persistent sort."

    "Tell me about it," Spacewarp grunted. "Now cut to the chase; what's the 'big scoop' you say you picked up?"

    "Ah, ah, ah. Payment up front."

    Spacewarp scowled beneath her faceplate as she dropped a few coins of Shanix onto the desk. "This had better be good."

    "When have my findings been anything but satisfactory?" Omega Trion replied. "Now then, tell me: how knowledgeable are you of Cybertronian myths?"

    "I've heard some names and terms tossed around -- the Guiding Hand, Shokaract, Unicron--"

    "What about the Thirteen?"

    "Yeah, I've heard of them. Doesn't seem like they were much more than glorified Primes -- bots who let all the power they held get to their head."

    "You can believe what you want," Omega Trion said. "But one can't deny the value of the artifacts they've left behind. Whether or not there's anything actually 'magic' or 'omnipotent' about them, I know quite a few people who would kill to get their hands on them."

    "Let me guess: you've located one of these artifacts."

    Omega Trion chuckled. "You catch on quickly. Yes, my spies have managed to track one down, and I require your expertise to recover it."

    "How much are you offering for this to be done?"

    "Well, the relic itself is worth over ten million Shanix. If you manage to bring it to me without any damage done to it, I'll give you half the amount... plus a hundred extra if you manage to retrieve it within forty-eight hours of leaving here."

    "Sounds good. And where is it exactly that I'm going?"

    "Ah, that's the tricky part," Omega Trion said with another laugh. "It's in the hands of five spacefaring Decepticons. They were last seen at Scarvix, but they may very well be halfway across the galaxy by now."

    "Ah." Spacewarp was less than enthused by the thought of encountering any of her so-called comrades. "Anything I should know about them?"

    "I wasn't able to get much info from Banzai-Tron. But what he was willing to tell me was more than enough."

    "And what would that be?"

    "That they are the five worst Decepticons you could possibly find."

Scavengers, or:

"How Not To Be a Decepticon"