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."
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