Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light VII, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

--Carcer--

   "My head hurts."

    Rodimus was sitting on a bench outside the medical lab, repeatedly tapping the back of his aforementioned head against the wall. Witnessing him in this practice was Skids, the one who called himself Sentinel Major, and Minimus Ambus, all waiting for Swerve to be treated of his injury.

    Looking at him blankly, Sentinel said, "We have some cerebrosurgeons who can look you over."

    "I didn't mean it like that," Rodimus said hastily. "I'm talking about... all of this." He gestured widely around him and then to Sentinel. "Like you, for example. You say your name is Sentinel Major, whereas a lot of us knew a guy called Sentinel Prime. Now, I know good names are always taken and in most cases it's allowed to share one. But 'Sentinel' is kind of like 'Optimus' or 'Starscream' -- there's only one bot you think of when you hear the name, and when I hear 'Sentinel', I think of a majestic, red, pretentious pain in the--"

    "Rodimus," Minimus cut him off sharply.

    "Sorry. Anyway, you get the point. So explain yourself."

    Sentinel inclined his head. "I was always meant to be Sentinel Prime. During the Kaon Revolution, when the public's faith in Guardian Prime had started to wane, the High Council selected me to succeed him. When Guardian was assassinated, I was quickly whisked away for the Primal Ceremony. When I got there, however, a certain someone was waiting for me."

    "Galvatron," Rodimus murmured.

    "I didn't know it was him at the time, of course," Sentinel Major went on. "He had already adopted an appearance identical to mine. The first thing he did was hit us with a disruptor wave. When I awoke, I found myself here."

    "I see. And so you started this Covenant business?"

    "No, actually. That was Magmatron's doing. He was the one who awakened me."

    "And how did Magmatron come across Carcer?" Minimus asked.

    Sentinel thought for a moment. "You know... I don't think I've ever asked him. It was never a pressing matter for me to attend to."

    "Okay, great, so that explains you," Skids said. "But what about the others? Like, Ultra Trion. How does he know my name?"

    "Wait, Ultra Trion?" Rodimus looked at Sentinel bemusedly. "As in, like, Ultra Magnus and Alpha Trion?"

    Sentinel ignored him as he turned to Skids. "That's something you should ask him. I am not at liberty to--"

    Suddenly, the four mechs heard a scream come from the medibay. Skids was the first to the door, pushing past Sentinel and barging into the medibay. Inside, Swerve was sitting up straight on his repair slab clutching his shoulder, gritting his teeth as he held back another outburst. Surrounding him were the three medics Ratchet, Velocity, and a multi-limbed femme. The latter was holding a pair of tweezers, in between which was a bullet.

    "You know, there were better ways of performing that operation," Ratchet said sternly. "It's generally considered good practice to not cause the patient any more pain than they're already in."

    "Pharma, I've been in this practice far longer than you have," the femme said coolly as she went to set the bullet on a table. "I think it's safe to say I know what I'm doing."

    "For the last time, I'm not--" Ratchet stopped himself when he saw Skids and the others standing in the doorway. "Oh. Hey. Didn't hear you come in."

    "How is he?" Skids asked, stepping over to Swerve.

    "I'm alive, if that's what you're asking," Swerve said, wincing in pain as he tightened his grip on his shoulder. "But I'm also bleeding all over the place, so I'm not sure how long that'll be."

    "If you would just give me a minute, I might be able to do something about that." The Carcerian medic returned with a piece of metal and a rivet gun. As she started patching up the open wound, Ratchet frowned as he watched the procedure.

    "I expect a more professional patch-up from someone like you, Cogwheel."

    The medic's mouth curled into a sneer. "Well, forgive me for lacking the proper materials to perform a more professional job. I only have so much to work with."

    "Hey, relax, doc," Swerve said to Ratchet, grinning. "I'm cool with it. It makes me look more distinguished. Makes me pop out in a crowd."

    Skids smirked at him. "I don't think you need any help in doing that, Mr. Shut The Heck Up."

    "Har har. You're a riot."

    "How long have you had this injury?" Ratchet asked, nodding at Swerve's shoulder. "For the bullet to be that seeded in, you would have had to have gotten it...."

    "Over a century ago," Swerve finished for him. "Yeah, I think it was Cycle 9707 when I got it. I was stationed at an outpost on Galarus when I decided to take the day off. It was just my luck that I came across the D.J.D. while they were doing their thing."

    "It was the D.J.D. who shot you?" Cogwheel asked.

    "Yeah, they caught me while I was trying to flee. I think it was... Vos who shot me? The one with the claws. Don't know how he managed to hold a gun with hands like his."

    Cogwheel looked deep in thought as she glanced at Swerve's patched up shoulder and then to the bullet. "Did you have a badge on your shoulder when that happened?"

    "Um... yes, actually." Swerve tilted his head, surprised. "I remember having to get a new one on my chest after it got damaged. Why do you ask?"

    Cogwheel went over to the bullet and picked it up, rolling it between her fingers. "Sentinel, I think we should bring this to Karmen."

    "Why?" Sentinel asked. "She's our communications specialist, not our forensics expert."

    "Exactly." Cogwheel smiled. "I do believe Agent 113 is trying to tell us something."

*  *  *

    Skyfall clicked the heels of his feet together as he sat in his cell, listening to the muffled voices coming from outside. The more time passed, the more anxious he got, dreading whatever fate awaited him.

    When things had finally been sorted out with the Carcerians, the Autobots had been very quick to whisk him away to be detained. As if a Decepticon badge automatically made one guilty of a number of crimes....

    He didn't even know how or why he had changed into his Decepticon "alter-ego" without knowing it. Ever since his cover was blown two hundred years ago, he had ceased to use it and even forgot about it while he was stationed at Garrus-9. Why now of all times...?

    The voices were growing louder and Skyfall could hear the faint sound of... helicopter blades. He looked up in time to see the door open and a spindly gray mech hovered in, propelled by a set of rotors on his hunched back. Skyfall moved with a start as the robot came to a stop before his cell, hands clasped behind his back.

    "Hello, Skyjack," the visitor said.

    "I don't know that name," Skyfall said quickly.

    "Yes, you do. And you know who I am."

    "Everyone knows who you are. You're one of Megatron's top generals."

    "Indeed. But our connection goes a bit deeper than that." The mech hovered in silence for a moment before uttering a single word. "Gideon."

    Skyfall yelled as his hands went up to his head, clutching it in agony.

    "Grindcore. Phosphex. Babu Yar."

    Slowly however, the pain started to recede and the screams grew quieter. By the time he heard the last word, he was merely gritting his teeth uncomfortably.

    "Fisitron."

    Blue optics flashed to red as the black and red mech finally relaxed and straightened himself to meet his superior's eyes.

    "I am yours to command, general."

    "Good," the hovering mech responded. "I'm glad to have you with us, Skyjack. I have one last mission for you...."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light VII, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

--The Lost Light--

    Dealer blew out a sigh of relief once his ship had docked in the hangar bay. He was finally in the clear; away from the Secret Order's wrath and in the safe hands of the Secret Service. He couldn't wait to see the look on Prowl's face when he told him what he had found out.

    Rising from the pilot seat, he started to head down for the ramp only to stop when he saw the six capsules lined up down the corridor, placed there by Vivisector before he had taken the ship. Dealer wondered what was in them and why the scientist thought them important enough to take with him.

    Eh, it can wait, he eventually decided. As long as they stay safe and sound here, I'm sure it won't be--

    Before he could finish that thought, an unsettling realization came over him. All of the capsules had glowing canopies to indicate whatever was inside them was secured... except for one. There was one canopy that wasn't glowing -- it wasn't even there at all. Shards of glass were scattered on the floor.

    Whatever had been in the capsule had broken out. And it was on the this ship.

    With him.

    Dealer did not even hesitate when he decided to run like heck.

*  *  *

    Red Alert stood approximately twenty feet away from the ship that had just docked. With him was his selected security detail -- consisting of Aquafend, Strafe, Deftwing, and Powerflash -- and they all waited patiently and cautiously for the owner of the ship to step down.

    His hand tight around the trigger of his gun, Red Alert counted the minutes as they passed. The more time went by, the more nervous he became. The ramp should have lowered by ow. What was taking so long?

    "I don't like this," he muttered to himself. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."

    "Hey, relax," Strafe assured him, holding his two orange guns readily. "Maybe something came up that he had to take care of, like a ship malfunction, or a--"

    Without warning, the ramp finally dropped down and a blue and gray mech came running out. Startled, Strafe yelled out and fired his guns at the mech, hitting him square in the chest. Collapsing onto his knees, the robot looked up at the Autobot with a furious expression.

    "You glitchhead! I'm on your side!"

    Ignoring him, Red Alert trained his gun on him. "Identify yourself," he demanded.

    "Agent C-308, alias Dealer."

    "Dealer?" Red Alert narrowed his eyes. "As in Doubledealer?"

    "...Yes? I don't see how that's--" The color went from the mech's face as the realization settled in. "Wait... you're not Secret Service."

    "Like Pit I am." Making sure his gun was set to stun, Red Alert was about to pull the trigger when something else came down the ramp. The other Autobots pointed their guns at the new figure... and collectively gasped. Red Alert lifted his gaze from Dealer and felt his mouth fall open.

    Standing there on the edge of the ramp was Megatron, silver and black armor plating gleaming as if it just came off the factory line. Red optics blazing with rage, he raised his arm-mounted cannon and prepared to fire....

--Outpost Two--

    "The Wreckers? Here?!"

    "That's what I've heard!" Vivisector shouted over the blaring alarms as he headed for the shuttle bay with Oil Slick, along with other panicked Decepticons. "Magnificus doesn't even want to risk a fight with them and has ordered a full-scale evacuation."

    "Well, it's good to know he has his head on straight," Oil Slick muttered. "Can you imagine if we were at Outpost Three? We would probably all--"

    A loud agonizing cry cut the scientist off, causing him and Vivisector to look behind them. A Decepticon was on his knees, a gaping hole in his chest, and behind him was a very short Autobot in yellow and dark gray carrying a massive gun. His blue optics calmly moved from the mech he had just killed and to the stunned Decepticons standing before him.

    "Don't worry," he said. "This only takes a few seconds to recharge. I'll get to you guys eventually."

    Vivisector and the others certainly did not hesitate in continuing to flee.

*  *  *

    "Are you sure it was a good idea to leave Guzzle by himself?"

    Kup spared a brief glance at his companion as he worked on opening the locked door. "Why do ya ask, kid?"

    "I dunno." Ironfist shrugged. "He just seems a little... bloodthirsty. I mean, I'm all for shooting Decepticons, but he takes it to the extreme."

    Kup grunted over the cy-gar he was chewing. "You've clearly never seen Roadbuster in action. You don't know what extreme is until you've watched him."

    "Oh, I've heard the stories. The Roadbuster affair of Cycle 9624, the capture of Protoform X... I actually have a datalog devoted to all of his escapades."

    Kup paused in his work to look over his shoulder at the rookie Wrecker. "Huh," he grunted. "Guess Springer wasn't kidding when he said you were a Wrecker aficionado."

    Ironfist's optics went wide. "He said that? Springer? He said that about me?"

    "Yes. You can thank him once we're done. Now keep it down while I try and get this door." Kup continued to operate the door's control panel while Ironfist stood guard. Moments later, the door finally slid open and Kup beckoned Ironfist to follow him in.

    Inside the room, the two Wreckers found rows upon rows of ovoid capsules, all containing gray, featureless figures, their fragile robotic frames covered with thin metal. In all their chests was a wide, circular crevice, in which a blue light glowed. Kup frowned as he looked upon this while Ironfist tilted his head in confusion.

    "Are those...?"

    "Protoforms," Kup confirmed. "I don't know how in the blazes these 'Cons got 'em, but I don't think I want to know what they're plannin' on doin' with 'em."

    "So many of them too," Ironfist murmured. "How are we going to get them all onto the Xantium?"

    "We can't," Kup said sharply. "We didn't come here on a rescue mission, lad. We're just here to find out what these 'Cons are up to and show our findings to Prowl."

    "But... we can't just leave them."

    "I'm sure someone will be sent to retrieve them once we're done here." Stepping up to one of the stasis pods, Kup explored its exterior, trying to find any sort of label or marking that would indicate its purpose. When he found none, he turned back to Ironfist -- and immediately cringed as his olfactory sensors detected a foul smell.

    "Agh, motherboard of Primon! What is that?"

    "What's what?" Ironfist took a moment to pick up the putrid smell himself. When he did, he reacted in similar fashion."Oh god. That's... that's nasty."

    "Guess the 'Cons don't know anythin' 'bout good hygiene. Have they got Horri-Bull working here?"

    "Me no am horrible! Me am great!"

    Both Autobots whirled at the sound of the voice and pointed their guns in its direction. From behind one of the pods appeared a broad-shouldered mech colored in an eye-searing shade of yellow and purple. Corrosive sludge leaked out from his crevices and a rancid smell emitted from his vents. Red optics glowed from behind a faceplate which, combined with his winged helmet, reminded the two Wreckers of Optimus Prime.

    "Okay, punk, who the scrap are you?" Kup asked, keeping his rifle trained on the mech. "Better yet, what are you?"

    "Me am Toxitron! Me am greatest Autobot of all!"

    "Autobot, eh?" Kup squinted his eyes and saw that there was indeed a red Autobot badge on Toxitron's chest, albeit covered in slime. "Well, that's good to know, if you're one of us. How did you come to be stuck here?"

    "Me was not stuck! Me was died here!"

    "Okaaaay." Kup exchanged a glance with Ironfist before looking back at Toxitron. "Anyway, we're on a mission here. If you think you can lend a hand, that'd be swell."

    "No!" Toxitron exclaimed eagerly. "Me can lend two hands!"

    "Um, that's great." Ironfist then glanced at Kup, cocking his head. "I don't know about you," he murmured, "but I don't think this guy's mentally stable enough to help us in a fight."

    Before Kup could reply, all three mechs heard a voice call from outside.

    "Hello? Is anyone in here? The base is being evac--"

    Kup only got a glimpse of the Decepticon before his view was obstructed by Toxitron, who charged at the teal mech and started tearing away. Circuits and armor went flying everywhere, causing even the hardened Kup to flinch while Ironfist simply stared in wide-eyed shock. When he was done, all that was left of the Decepticon was a skeletal structure missing both legs and an arm.

    Kup took out his cy-gar and flaked off bits of residual energon. "I don't think mental stability is a requirement with us."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light VII, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

--Unidentified Titan--

    "...And that's the situation so far."

    Rodimus did not say anything at first once Rung had finished relaying everything to him and the others whom had just awoken from stasis. Rubbing his chin, he glanced warily at Pharma -- who was supposedly Ratchet in Pharma's body -- and then at Minimus Ambus, who had somehow lost his Magnus Armor -- supposedly to Pharma in Ratchet's body. If he was being honest with himself, this all sounded like one big joke. But since it was coming from Rung and Minimus -- both bots he trusted -- then he really had no reason to not believe them.

    Well, except for one thing.

    "How do I know Pharma isn't mind-controlling you to say this scrap?" Rodimus asked.

    Rung looked up at Possibly-Ratchet, who simply affixed Rodimus with an impassive look.

    "What's up, doc?"

    Rodimus blinked. "Huh?"

    "First thing you said to me, after I dragged your sorry chassis to the medbay after the assault on Theta Palos. I nearly tossed you back into the Gorge."

    A small smile crossed Rodimus' face. "You also told me if I ever called you doc again, you'd find a way to make me contract corrodia gravis."

    "That warning is still effective, mind you," Ratchet said. "A thousand years makes zero difference."

    "Great. Now that we have all that settled...." Froid stepped forward, crossing his arms as he looked at Rodimus and the rest. "I suggest we figure out where in the blazes are we. It's been nearly two hours since that orange mech was here and I'm just about tired of waiting."

    "I have to agree," Velocity said, worriedly looking up from the offline Swerve. "This bot is fading fast. I'm not sure how much longer he has."

    Ratchet cursed to himself, at a complete loss. The mech had told them to stay here, even making it sound like a warning, as if they'd die by leaving. But at the same time, Swerve himself was dying. Would it be worth the risk to leave the chamber to save one single bot in peril?

    It only took him a moment to realize that someone else had already made up their mind on that dilemma, when he saw that Skids was nowhere to be found.

*  *  *

    While sneaking through the hallways of places he knew nothing about was not something he wished to make a habit of, it was nevertheless a compulsion Skids could not ignore. With Swerve's life being on the line, he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on here.

    The sound of voices led him into a long hallway, down which he could see a door, open by a crack. As he carefully treaded across the hall, Skids took the time to study the decorations on the walls.

    If this was indeed a Titan, then whoever once lived here (or still did) had a love for ancient history and myths. Thanks to his religious upbringing, he recognized carvings of Primus, the Guiding Hand, and other such deities. There were also sculpted representations of every Prime from Prima to Nova; the absence of Nominus to Optimus made Skids suspect that the residents were very far behind the times.

    Eventually he came upon the door, to which he slowly crept towards. The voices were louder now and thus more clearer. However, before he could even begin to make anything out, the door swung open and he was sent flying by the force of a sonic cannon, which was mounted on the arm of the same orange winged mech from earlier.

    As Skids struggled to recover, he heard the mech say, "See? What did I tell you?"

    "Settle down, Sentinel," another voice said as an old mech in blue and red appeared behind him, bearing a "bearded" face Skids found familiar. "Perhaps he meant no harm."

    "You don't know that," the one called Sentinel retorted. "By my scans, he's toting weaponry all over his body."

    "That doesn't make him an assassin. He was likely just taken over by curiosity."

    "Typical Trion," said a third, more effeminate voice, coming from a figure Skids couldn't make out. "Always seeing the bright side of every situation. I say we dump the whole lot of them into--"

    "Quiet, Elitus." A fourth, fare more authoritative voice sufficiently silenced the other three and they all bowed their heads. "Bring our new guest in. Let us hear him out."

    Reluctantly, Sentinel put his cannon away and walked over to Skids, pulling him to his feet. The blue Autobot was then led into the room, where he found the other three occupants sitting at a table. On the right sat a magenta-armored femme, with a helmet that heavily resembled Elita-One's. On the left was a mech who looked a lot like Alpha Trion, except with a blue and red color scheme that made him think of Ultra Magnus.

    Finally, at the end of the table was a massive robot who looked unlike any Skids had seen before. Right away he could tell the mech was a beast-former, going by the purple Tyrannosaurus head on his shoulder. And the red pteranodon wings jutting from either side of his head. And the green shell of another reptilian creature on his left arm. Whatever kind of hellspawn creature he was meant to turn into, Skids wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

    As Skids was brought to the table, the beast-former grinned at him, revealing a set of fangs. "My apologies for my friend's reaction. He's a bit jumpy when it comes to surprise visitors."

    "As chief of security, such caution is necessary," Sentinel retorted. "At least I used a sonic weapon."

    "Okay, everyone shut up," Skids cut in, holding up his hands. "Let's skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase. Where the blazes are we? Who are you freaks? And can you please get my friend to a medbay? I'm pretty sure he's dying."

    "Do not worry," the beast-former said. "You are all in good hands. Would you like a seat?"

    "No," Skids said curtly. "I want answers. Now."

    The Trion-lookalike harrumphed. "Arrogance and impatience will get you nowhere. I see discipline has not improved since I've been gone."

    Skids shot him a questioning look but before he could say anything, the beast-former said, "Very well, your questions shall be answered, in the order you've asked them. You are on Carcer."

    "Great!" Skids exclaimed, whirling on him. "Except I have no idea what that is!"

    "It's a Titan."

    "Ah, marvelous! So it's like a Caminus sort of deal, right? A colony world kind of thing?"

    "Not exactly. We are currently traveling through space."

    "Wonderful." Skids clapped his hands once. "Now then: names."

    The beast-former nodded. "I am Magmatron, Beast King of Eukaris. You've already met Sentinel Major. To my left is Elitus, leader of the Carcer colony. To my right, Ultra Trion, keeper of the Oracle."

    "Sentinel Major? Ultra Trion?" Skids looked bemusedly between the two mechs in question, rubbing his head. "I know shared names can be common, but you guys both make me think of at least three different bots I already know. And two of them are dead."

    A smirk touched Ultra Trion's lips. "There's likely a reason for that... Skids of Nova Cronum."

    Skids stared at him, feeling his energon run cold. "How do you know my name?"

    Ultra Trion merely raised an optic while Magmatron rose from his seat. "As for your last question: we shall send a team of medics to help your friend now. I'll also have Sentinel leave with you to explain this all to your companions."

    "Oh, yeah." Skids glanced at Sentinel warily. "Explaining all of this to them will be a hoot."

    Sentinel simply motioned to the door. "Well then. Let's not keep them waiting."

*  *  *

    Magmatron, Elitus, and Ultra Trion watched in silence as Sentinel Major and Skids walked out of the room. Once the door had closed, Magmatron slumped down in his chair. "This complicates things."

    "Indeed," Elitus murmured, resting her chin on her hand. "They'll be nothing but a burden to us as we proceed with the agenda."

    "Sentinel did say they were in the space bridge chamber," Ultra Trion said. "We could just teleport them someplace else."

    Magmatron shook his head. "We cannot afford to use too much of Carcer's power at this point. We're going to need it when we reach Eukaris."

    "Then we can dump them on the next planet or moon we come across," Elitus suggested. "They won't put up much of a fight: twenty Autobots and Camiens against a hundred Carcerians? It would be child's play."

    Magmatron simply rubbed his chin in thought. Elitus then tilted her head suddenly, a devious smile on her face. "Or... we could use them."

    "Use them," Ultra Trion repeated. "For what?"

    "I can't be the only one to remember the little artifact we picked up recently. If things go south for us on Eukaris, we could use it on our guests. That way, if it fails or turns them against us, we'll have no qualms in killing them."

    "You can't be serious," Trion said. "I don't believe I've ever heard a more savage--"

    "I like it," Magmatron said.

    Ultra Trion looked at him in disbelief. "What?!"

    "I understand your distaste for it, Trion, but recall the words of Prima: The many are greater than the few. If we must sacrifice them to reach our goals, then so be it."

    "But--"

    "I'm sorry, old friend, but my mind has been made," Magmatron said with finality. "In the end, you will understand."

From the Archives: The First Transformers Stories I Ever Wrote

   So this is a new thing I'll be doing. A la the old TF comics I've been posting (which I still need to get back to), I'll be posting the old stories I wrote when I was 9-12. I'll be interchanging this with chapters from TF Regenerated (which I also still need to get back to). So sit back, relax, and bask in the awful grammar and spelling (which I am leaving in tact so you can suffer along with me).

TRANSFOMERS (dated January 13, 2006)

    The main villn Megatron was lokking for a Cyber Key but Optimus Prime stop him.

    Optimus Prime cried. "Optimus Prime Super Mode!"

    "You don't scare me." Megatron said.

    Optimus Prime said "Be scaired of this. Cyber Key power!"

    Then they battle. Optimus Prime won.

    Megatron said "No!"

    Optimus said "Yes."

    Megatron crid and ran away saying "Curse you, Optimus Prime!"

    The end.

----------

    Truly, that was a story of the ages. A thing of legends. Treasure it. Pass it along to your friends. Tell it to your grandchildren. It must be preserved for all time. But, ah, there is one other story from our new Shakespeare. Could it possibly surpass this one? Let us find out.

TRANSFORMERS CYBERTRON (dated January 17, 2006)

    A Atuobot named Hot Shot was lokin for his Cyber Key.

    "Where is it?" Hot Shot asked himself.

    Then Red Alert came. He looked like a plice versin of Hot Shot. They heard big footsteps and it selld like evil.

    Red Alert and Hot Shot crid. "Red Alert transform vheicle mode."

    But Hot Shot didn't transform because it was just Jetfire.

    Red Alert said "Few"

    Then a plane ship came. It was Starscrem a evil Transformer.

    Starscrem said "Starscream transform robot mode."

    Red Alert said "Red Alert transform robot mode!"

    Jetfire and Hot Shot watch the two fight.

    The evil Starscrem won but Red Alert said "Cber Planet Key Power!" And it was a blade the Autobot swung the sowrd but the evil guy duke.

    Red Alert bastit and hit the evil Starscrem. He ran away transform and left.

    The three lo for the key for Hot Shot.

    The end.

--------

    Such tension! Go home, Macbeth. Take a hike, To Kill a Mockingbird. These are the masterpieces that deserve to be remembered as the template for all future stories to be told.

    I hope you enjoyed these two marvelous classics, for there is a lot more to be told.

    A lot more.

    A lot.

    Be afraid.