CHAPTER ONE
--Rikev-Har--
"...Is that a transformation cog?"
"Indeed it is!" Misfire said, proudly puffing out his chest. "It's none other than the t-cog of Amalgamous Prime himself!"
The large orange Autobot at the counter lifted an optic ridge. "As in it came from his body or something?"
Misfire blinked. "Um... I guess?"
"What sets it apart from any other t-cog?"
"It can transform anything into anything!"
Big Hoss snorted, eyeing the cog laying on the counter. "Well, it sure isn't doing that."
"Uh, it, uh, it has to be something mechanical."
Big Hoss reached underneath the counter and brought out a can opener, pressing it against the t-cog. Nothing happened.
Misfire scowled as he took back the cog. "Yeah, well, you're not doing it right!"
"Look, buddy, I've seen lots of things come through the door in the twenty-one years I've worked here," Big Hoss grunted. "A lot of them have been utterly bizarre and strange and I've even given bots money for them. But there is no way in Pit am I paying you for a part that I'm sure you got from some poor sod's corpse."
"Oh yeah? Well... well... don't you know an expert who can verify it?"
"I don't need an expert to know when I'm being scammed."
"Misfire?" A small tan mech poked his head in the doorway. "Are you done yet? Krok wants to get going."
"Just a minute, Fulcrum," Misfire said. "I'm just about finished here." He then drew his gun and pointed it at Big Hoss' head.
"Whoa, hey now!" The shop owner held up his hands defensively. "I'm just telling it like it is!"
"Misfire, what are you doing?!" Fulcrum ran over to his fellow Scavenger. "You don't need to do this! We've still got plenty of Shanix from Spinister's lottery win!"
"I know," Misfire said, shutting one optic as he took aim. "But having more doesn't hurt, does it?"
"Krok told us to keep a low profile! Nothing about this is low profile!"
"Relax, I'm only shooting him between the eyes." With that, Misfire pulled the trigger. The bullet ejected from the barrel of his gun... then stopped, hanging in midair.
Misfire blinked. That had never happened before.
"Excuse me. Can you hear me?"
Misfire turned around to see two bots standing before him. One was a female colored in dark blue, with a round clock on her chest. Her male companion had the same body type, only in a dull grey.
"Ah, good!" the female said. "It worked this time. Now we don't have to carry you."
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Fulcrum asked.
"The name's Meantime. The old lug here is Midnighter. You two are Misfire of Pretendia and Fulcrum of Chinnex, correct?"
"How do you--"
"I've got your Autopedia entries right here," Meantime said, holding up a datapad. "It also says you were both forged, is that correct?"
"Does it matter?" Fulcrum asked.
"Immensely. So, care to come with us?"
The two Scavengers exchanged glances. "Um, why should we?" Misfire asked.
"Because you need to," Meantime said. "I can explain later; keeping time frozen like this is giving me a headache."
"But... we have friends waiting for us," Fulcrum said. "We can't just leave them."
"You're gonna have to. Sorry. Just how things are."
The one called Midnighter then stepped forward and took Misfire and Fulcrum's hands in each of his own. As all four of them began to glow, Misfire looked back at Big Hoss and the frozen bullet.
"Wait! Once you resume time... is that bullet gonna hit him?"
Meantime spared a moment to study the bullet and its projection. "No," she finally said. "You're way off the mark."
Misfire scowled as he and Fulcrum were teleported away. "Slaggit."
--The Lost Light--
"Slow down, Cannonspring," Nightbeat said. "I need to write all this down."
Cannonspring huffed impatiently. "There isn't much time. The ceremony can begin at any minute."
"No offense, but I find it hard to take the word of someone who says he was born less than an hour ago," Getaway said dryly. "And what is this ceremony you're talking about?"
"Look, your questions can wait. We need to get to the Floating Fortress and stop the Secret Order from executing their plan."
"Okay then," Nightbeat said. "Tell us how to get to the fortress. Point us in the right direction."
Cannonspring frowned as he looked out the viewport. "It... it should be right there," he murmured. "It's not exactly hard to find...."
"Hold up," Mainframe said, leaning over his console. "Another ship's just entered my radar. It should be emerging from the clouds right about--"
Before he could finish his sentence, a large shape appeared out of the clouds, piercing the air like a purple dagger. The ship's violet hull was worn and weathered, indicating that it had seen lots of action. It had a very distinctive shape, with sharp, multi-edged wings and a swooped front.
"Hang on," Riptide murmured. "That's not... what I think it is, is it?"
"I don't believe I've ever seen it up close before," Getaway said. "But that shape is unmistakable."
"It's the Nemesis," Nightbeat said grimly. "Megatron's flagship."
"Oh," Cannonspring said. "I take it that's a bad thing then? Wonderful."
--The Floating Fortress--
"Sir? Sir!"
"I'm right here, Wiretap," Afterburner said irritably, not so much as glancing at the smaller Decepticon. "You don't need to shout."
"Right. Sorry." Wiretap bounced on his heels. "They're here. The Nemesis. Megatron has arrived."
"Then don't just stand there!" Afterburner snapped. "Lower the forcefield and let them in!"
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I'll get right to it, sir."
Once Wiretap had ran off, Afterburner returned to work, looking out the window that oversaw the processing chamber. Datapad in hand, he continued down the list of names.
Hound of Monoplex: Clear. Rewind of Petrohex: Clear. Prowl of Petrex: ...Not Clear. But then, Tarantulas had already told him that he needed the Autobot for something he had planned. So long as it did not interfere with the plan, Afterburner could not care less.
Whirl of Polyhex: Clear. Skids of Nova Cronum: Clear. Convoy...
Right. The clones. Those two were an anomaly: they were forged, yes, but not exactly normal Cybertronians. At least ,not as far as he understood it. He would have to double check with the Warden.
Lowering his datapad, Afterburner prepared to raise his superior... only to stop. Down below, he could see one of the many bots in the processing in chamber -- Rodimus of Nyon, he believed -- looking up at him. Wasn't the window one-way? Perhaps he had been mistaken.
Rodimus was raising a fist. At first Afterburner thought the Autobot was shaking it until he held up his other hand and started making a winding gesture. Slowly, ever so slowly, his middle finger started to extend....
Afterburner scoffed at this immature display as he turned away from the window. Honestly, he could not understand why Firestar or any of the other Camiens would want to associate themselves with such company.
He got no more than five feet away when the one known as Cyclonus appeared in his line of sight. Afterburner removed his hand from his comm as he looked up at the former Herald of Unicron.
"Cyclonus? I thought you were with Scourge."
"He's currently preoccupied," Cyclonus said, taking sure steps towards Afterburner. "Straxus said I could take a look around."
"Did he? Because Scourge told me that you would all be--"
He was cut off by a hand suddenly seizing his neck. Before he could cry for help, he immediately found himself being hurled at the window. Upon collision however, the glass failed to shatter; instead, a weblike crack formed across the pane.
Shaking his head, Afterburner glared at Cyclonus. "You idiot," he muttered. "Did you forget laminated glass was a thing?"
Cyclonus said nothing, instead storming forward and delivering a kick to Afterburner's abdomen. The window finally shattered from the pressure and the Camien fell into the chamber below. Landing in front of the one known as Whirl, the last thing he heard was the sound of alarms ringing before he was consumed by claws.
--The Lost Light--
"There it is!" Cannonspring exclaimed, pointing at the now materializing Floating Fortress.
"Right then," Getaway said. "Let's speed on ahead and--"
"Hold it," Chromedome interjected. "The Nemesis is right there. Do we really want to enter its line of sight?"
"We could use one of the shuttles," Brainstorm suggested. "I think we have one small enough to evade sensors. It only seats five though."
"Then let's go." Nightbeat was already turning to leave. "Cannonspring, Brainstorm, Chromedome, Getaway, you're with me."
"What about us?" Riptide asked.
"Someone has to watch the ship. Plus, no offense, but there aren't any bodies of water around here."
Riptide sighed. "Point taken."
"Let us not waste any more time then," Cannonspring said. "Let's rescue our friends."
Chromedome gave him a look. "'Our?'"
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