Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

    "Another Decepticon ship?"

    "Looks like it, captain," Plummet said, looking over his monitor. "Can't determine the model, but it's carrying about twelve Decepticons."

    "We're rounding them up like Porcineacons, aren't we?" Quickswitch commented, shifting in his seat. "Dispatch a Decepticon team to greet them. Assuage any suspicions they may have for the time being."

    Plummet nodded as he did as ordered. "And the Alchemor sector? Have you decided what to do there?"

    "I take it their generator is still out?"

    "Yes, sir."

    Quickswitch rubbed his chin. "The prisoners will have probably been freed... I doubt even Landslide will have been able to hold them off." He then waved a dismissive hand. "Disconnect them."

    Plummet glanced back at him. "Are you sure, captain? What about Landslide's Headmaster operation."

    "His 'operation' was a redundant one from the beginning. I'm through obliging him. Disconnect the Alchemor... and obliterate it."

*  *  *

    Misfire was in love.

    He had always had a thing for femmes -- something about their (usually) slender frames just got to him for some reason. But this one... this one had definitely just stolen his spark. It was the flames that did it for him, really.

    He watched on in awe as Flamewar spread her flames throughout the lab, melting down all of its staff and equipment. The black copter-bot had somehow managed to sneak away while Landslide stood at the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of fire. He fixed his optics on the crazed Flamewar.

    "You're not going to accomplish much by doing this," he growled. "Even if you manage to kill me, there is no way you'll be able to escape."

    "Okay." Flamewar shrugged as she sauntered over to him, fire crackling at her fingertips. "Honestly, I didn't even plan that far ahead. Just for this moment."

    She then burst into a hysterical laugh as she dug her servos into Landslide's chest. The technoist cried out in agony as heat seeped into his chassis, melting his internals. After a moment, Flamewar pulled out and let Landslide collapse. He writhed in pain for a moment before shutting off for good.

    "That was hot," Misfire commented. "You're hot. I love you. Please marry me."

    Flamewar turned to give him a bemused look before glancing over at Crankcase and Spinister, who were still standing in the doorway.

    "He's with you, isn't he?"

    "No," Crankcase said. "Never met him before in my life."

    "Yeah, you could've just killed him too," Spinister said. "In fact, you can still do that. Right now. Go ahead. Please."

    "Sorry, boys, but I'm kinda exhausted right now." Flamewar proceeded to free Misfire from his restraints before looking over to an orange mech laying nearby, his armor partially scorched. "What about that guy? Is he still alive?"

    "That's my new friend," Misfire said, sitting up. "His name's Sentinel Prime."

    "Uh...." Crankcase frowned. "Sentinel Prime's dead."

    "I know, but that's what he calls himself."

    "Great, another crazy," Flamewar muttered. "Maybe we were being held here for a reason...."

    "Well, at this point, we might as well call ourselves something," Crankcase said. "Like, the Crazy Six or... the Sextuplets of Despair."

    Misfire frowned. "But... there's only five of us."

    "Well, we don't have to include the Autobot--"

    "No, I mean... there's only five of us here. You two, me, Miss Hottie, and Sentinel."

    "No, there's also Nitro--" Crankcase turned around, only to see that Nitro Zeus was no longer there. "--Zeus?"

    "Nitro Zeus?" Misfire laughed. "Wow, and I thought 'Misfire' was--"

    But before the magenta Decepticon could finish, the whole place began to shake violently, sending all four to the floor....

*  *  *

    Ever since he had been imprisoned on this ship, Nitro Zeus had desired nothing more than freedom. But this was ridiculous.

    He held on for dear life as the floor beneath him split open and the door he had been walking towards fell out of reach. Before he knew it, there was a sudden gust of wind and he was being flung out into space.

    Is this karma? he wondered as he spiraled away. Does Primus really give so much of a scrap for those losers that he's punishing me for ditching them?

    Naturally, his questions were left unanswered and he was left watching in silence as a large section of the massive vessel disconnected, forming another ship. As he watched the Alchemor float away aimlessly, he detected a flash of light occur on the rest of the vessel.

    Standing there was a robot clad in black and silver armor with purple accents. A mask with blue slits concealed their face while a cannon adorned each arm. All in all, they looked like prime Decepticon material.

    Accessing his internal radio, Nitro Zeus was able to patch a call to the mysterious stranger. "Hey, pal! Mind giving a fellow 'Con a hand? I've got an inhibitor claw on me and I can't--"

    Before he could finish, the mech was gone in a flash of light.

    "...Jerk."

*  *  *

    Agonizer sat alone in the cargo hold of the Pack's ship, beaten and tired. The Monstercons hadn't exactly been gentle in their interrogation of him, and he still didn't know what they wanted from him. Something about a Talisman?

    Truth be told, he had never really had that much of an interest in the so-called "artifacts of the Primes." Most of them tended to be useless trinkets like a quill or a mask or even a dumb old rock. It was laughable to even consider seeking them out.

    But as of the last month or so, he had been put on the lookout for one artifact in particular: the Requiem Blaster. This had been at the request of his ever-so mysterious contact Omega Trion, who had supplied him with many items of interest over the last seven months.

    Omega Trion had promised a great reward for procuring the Requiem Blaster. For Agonizer, it had been the opportunity of a life time... an opportunity that had just gone down the drain.

    Agonizer hung his head in sorrow. He wondered if he would ever make it back to Troja Major, if he would ever be among his collection again. He had spent so many years acquiring it all. To lose it all just like that....

    "Agonizer."

    The former Decepticon snapped his head up and yellow optics beheld a large black figure standing over him. Although their face was concealed, Agonizer never forgot a body type and he smiled brightly.

    "Omega Trion! Thank Primus you're here! The Requiem Blaster--"

    "Is not here," Omega Trion intoned.

    Agonizer's smile faltered. "Wh-what? But... it's just in the other room! Steel Jaw and his Pack have it--"

    "Yes, they do," Omega Trion interjected. "But they are no longer here. They have left the ship with the Requiem Blaster."

    "Then... then we shall go after them!" Agonizer said. "I may be a curator but I'm still a Decepticon soldier at spark! I can still...."

    He trailed off as he felt something dig into his chassis. Looking down, he saw a spear had been plunged into his chest, its tip brushing against his spark. His eyes moved to the pair of hands that held the spear before following them up to stare back at Omega Trion.

    "But... I... did as you...."

    "Yes, you did," Omega Trion said. "You have thus outlived your usefulness."

    He thrust the spear further and Agonizer's entire body spasmed before going limp.

    "Enjoy your reward."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

    This place was a labyrinth.

    Crankcase still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Every corner they turned led them into another block of prison cells, each one looking different than the least. Pristine silver walls transitioned into old rusted walls into mismatched, patched up walls.

    Even when they tried going back, they simply ended up in an completely different hall, not looking anything like the one they had just been down before. It was like the entire place was shifting all around them.

    What was this place? And why were the Autobots using it when they never had before?

    Eventually, the Triggercon brought them all to a halt. "Stop," he said, rubbing his head. "We're obviously not getting anywhere. We're wasting time."

    "What would you have us do then?" Nitro Zeus snidely asked. "Are you gonna blast a way through?"

    "Shut up and let me think." Crankcase looked around at the other cells around them. Most of them were empty, save for a few holding Decepticons; some he recognized, some he didn't. None of them seemed to have noticed the three escapees though.

    "No one seems to be eager for a breakout," Crankcase observed aloud.

    "You think we haven't tried?" snapped a black and red Decepticon with a flame deco. "It's impossible to get out of here. Even if you get past the ray shield, good luck getting further than that."

    "Hey, I know you," Crankcase said, turning to the femme. "You're Flamewar, one of the first Decepticons."

    "First?" Flamewar scoffed. "I'm not that old, darling. I didn't join until a century before the Battle of Iacon. I was part of Trannis' inner circle for a time though. I can see where you'd get the idea."

    "Where have you even been? No one's heard from you since Megatron went missing a hundred years ago."

    "Why, where do you think I've been?" Flamewar sneered. "I've been searching for Megatron. From one corner of the galaxy to the next, high and low. I was even forced to work with the Star Seekers in my quest for a time, only to end up here."

    "How long have you been here?" Crankcase asked.

    "What cycle is it?"

    "Uh...." Crankcase scratched his head. "9815."

    Flamewar thought for a moment. "I've been here... for too slaggin' long."

    "Have you tried breaking out?" Nitro Zeus asked.

    "Oh, yes. Many times. Try to guess how successful I've been."

    "Well, there must be some way out!" Nitro Zeus exclaimed. "I don't see how anyone, let alone some Autobots, can maintain a place like--"

    He was cut off by the sound of Spinister using all his might to pull out the mismatched panels of the ceiling, exposing structure beams and some kind of machinery overhead. He then took his shotgun and squeezed its barrel inside.

    "Stand back," he ordered.

    "Spinister," Crankcase grumbled. "Your gun can't be that powerful to blast an opening."

    "Who says I'm making an opening?" Spinister then pulled the trigger and all power went out in the block, including the ray shield protecting Flamewar's cell.

    The Decepticon femme cackled, a shrill sound that made Crankcase quaver. "I see what you're getting at, love." Suddenly, the room was illuminated as flames ignited from her hands. "And I think I like it."

*  *  *

    Things happened far too quickly for Misfire's liking.

    One minute, he and Sentinel Prime were standing there, watching Galvatron as he tore off heads from numerous bots. Not once did Sentinel move to stop him; it was almost as if he was shell-shocked.

    Then, before he knew it, everything was fading from existence. First Galvatron, then his victims, Cybertron, and finally, Sentinel Prime himself. After that, Misfire was brought back to reality.

    The lab had suddenly gone dark, save for a dim overhanging light. Landslide was barking out orders as he moved around frantically. Shaking his head a little, Misfire was able to get his left audio receptor to pick up sound.

    "--throughout this sector! Find out what happened. Hopefully it's just a faulty generator."

    "Does this happen often?" asked the copter-bot.

    "It's bound to eventually," said Landslide. "That's the price one pays for working on a 'ship' that's an amalgamation of others."

    The copter-bot inclined his head to a computer screen Landslide was standing at. "Were you able to get what you needed from the patch?"

    "No," Landslide said bitterly. "I knew I should have just gone in myself. That mech wasted too much time."

    "Should I dispose of him then?"

    "Please do."

    Misfire's optics went wide as the black Decepticon hovered over to him. Still confined to the slab, he was left helpless as the copter-bot produced a claw-like device....

    At that moment, a light illuminated the hall outside and all those present turned around to see a feminine figure standing there, her entire body covered in flames. Behind her, descending from a newly made hole in the ceiling, were three other bots; two of which happened to be Crankcase and Spinister....

    "Flamewar!" Landslide exclaimed. "How did you--? I thought we had your powers disabled!"

    "You can't disable super-powers, darling," Flamewar replied, her orange optics gleaming. "Subdue, perhaps, but only for a time. And I've been held captive for nearly ten years...."

    A ball of flame appeared in each of her hands.

    "More than enough time to get them back."

*  *  *

    "What in Primus' sweet name am I looking at?"

    Several optics all stared in awe at the massive vessel that shadowed over them. It was hard to call it a ship, as it was so much more than that. In fact, it was more of a hodge-podge combination of ships, all welded in together. It was a behemoth of a craft, if it could even still be called that.

    "I'm still waiting for an answer," Steel Jaw said.

    "Whatever it is, it's got us caught in a tractor beam," said Fracture, the Pack's pilot. "I can't move out of it."

    "Hang on," Krok said. "I recognize some of those ships. That one on the left... I'm pretty sure that's the Nominus II."

    "And the one on top...." Thunderhoof narrowed his optics. "Ain't dat the Alchemor? The ship dat brought us to Garrus-16?"

    Steel Jaw stiffened. "So it is. I had no idea the Autobots were interested in such... unique ships."

    "So what do we do?" Fracture asked. "Just let them capture us like wusses or do we fight back?"

    "Hmm." Steel Jaw tapped his chin. "If only we had a weapon that could take out multiple bots at once."

    Krok glared at the lupine Decepticon. "You can't be seriously considering--"

    "I am, Krok," Steel Jaw snarled back. "And there's nothing you can do about it. Unless you wish to die, or worse be the Autobots' prisoner, you best let me handle this."

    "But wait," Fulcrum said. "Krok said he was detecting hundreds of Decepticons on that ship. How do we know its crewed by Autobots?"

    "Have you not heard of da Alchemor?" Thunderhoof snapped. "It's a prison ship. Autobots like to take 'Cons prisoner. Trust me; we would know."

    "Actually, he might have a point," Steel Jaw said. "We should wait until we meet our would be captors. Still, we should be prepared all the same. Let's gather at the ramp and arm ourselves."

    As Steel Jaw, Fracture and Thunderhoof vacated the cockpit. Krok turned to glare at Fulcrum. "Looks like somebody is Steel Jaw's favorite."

    "I'm sorry!" Fulcrum replied, holding up his hands. "I didn't think he would respond like that."

    "Whatever," Krok muttered, brushing past the K-Con. "Just don't expect me to always have your back. There's only so much I'm willing to do for you."

    Fulcrum did not have the chance to protest before the Monoformer was gone.

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

    This was not reality.

    Or, at least, Misfire hoped it wasn't. Because otherwise that would mean Galvatron was somehow back from the dead and about to kill him.

    The purple warlord sneered as he lifted a giant axe over his head. Before he could deliver the killing blow, a blaster bolt tore through his chest and brought the ancient warlord down.

    "Be gone, evil doer!" a booming voice called out just as a tall orange bot came into view. He extended a hand to Misfire. "Are you all right, citizen?"

    Before Misfire could answer, a voice called out, "Prime!"

    Both bots turned around to see Galvatron back on his feet, no longer bearing a hole in his chest.

    The orange mech assumed a defensive position. "Give up, Galvatron! The day is mine!"

    "No, it shall be mine!" Galvatron roared as he lunged at Prime. A single gunshot was all it took to vaporize him.

    "Perhaps now the Darklanders will understand that it is unwise to challenge Sentinel Prime," Misfire's savior boldly declared.

    Oh, give me a break. Misfire got back to his feet and dusted himself off. "So," he said, looking up at the Prime. "You do this for a living or something?"

    "It is my duty to defend Cybertron all those who dare do it ill."

    Misfire slowly nodded. "Right... what did you say your name was again?"

    "Sentinel Prime," the warrior proudly stated.

    "Sentinel Prime?" Misfire cocked his head. "Aren't you... you know, dead?"

    Sentinel laughed. "Of course not! How else would I be standing before you?"

    "No, no, I mean... you really should be dead."

    "He soon will be!" From behind Sentinel came a raging Galvatron, axe raised high. "He shall fall just like all the others!"

    Sentinel laughed as he destroyed Galvatron just as easily as before. "Typical posturing from a Darklander. Where does Megatronus find these bots?"

    Megatronus? Misfire knew a Megatron, but not a Megatronus. What kind of a name was that anyway? Besides, didn't Galvatron overthrow Megatron? Why would one be working for the other? He knew none of this was real... but all fantasies were built off of at least some truth.

    "Who's Megatronus?" Misfire decided to ask, hoping to get at least some idea as to what was going on.

    "Why, none other than the dreaded leader of the evil Darklanders," Sentinel Prime said. "He and his forces are spreading chaos all across Cybertron in the name of Unicron."

    Okay, that definitely wasn't right. Either this guy was off his rocker or something else was going on here. Why was he even here to begin with?

    "Enough about that though, "Sentinel said. "It is too dangerous for you to be out here, with the Darklanders invading. Let me get you to--"

    He reached out to grab Misfire's arm, only for his hand to phase through. The Prime recoiled, staring at the Scavenger wide-eyed.

    "You're... you're not real," he murmured.

    "Yeah, none of this is," Misfire said. "You're in dreamland, pal."

    "You mean this...." Sentinel looked all around him, gesturing to the many Galvatron corpses that now littered the ground. "None of this is real?"

    "Nope." Misfire kicked at the ground. His foot phased right through. "Sorry to rain on your parade. Looked like you were having fun."

    But Sentinel wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Instead, he was staring off into the distance, a forlorn look in his eyes. Misfire followed his gaze and saw yet another Galvatron standing there, holding something up in his hand. Adjusting his optic, Misfire deduced it to be a severed head.

    "Charming," he muttered.

    "Is this all Nexus Prime has to offer?" Galvatron bellowed. "These pathetic abominations? These Headmasters?"

    Misfire looked to Sentinel, expecting him to shoot at Galvatron again. But the Prime simply stood there, silently staring as Galvatron's laughter rang in their ears.

*  *  *

    "What did you say this was again?"

    "The Requiem Blaster," Steel Jaw said, staring at the weapon in question on the table in front of him. "Supposedly."

    Thunderhoof snorted as he shot a glance at Krok and Fulcrum, confined to the wall by a steel beam. "And just why would a pair o' Genericon mooks be carryin' somethin' like dat?"

    "Who knows?" Steel Jaw said. "And honestly, who cares? Point is, we have it now, meaning no one will question or challenge our authority."

    "We'll see 'bout dat," Thunderhoof said as he exited the room.

    Left alone with the two Scavengers, Steel Jaw shifted his gaze to the pair. "You know, you don't have to stay there for the whole trip. I would be willing to accept you into the Pack."

    "Not in a million years," Krok snapped. "A fancy little toy isn't going to get you anywhere. This endeavor of yours is going to fail like all the others."

    "Uh-huh." Steel Jaw then looked to Fulcrum. "What say you, friend? Does Krok here speak for you as well?"

    "Uh, well...." Fulcrum cleared his throat. "I mean, I have nothing to go on but his words. I've never even heard of you."

    Steel Jaw flashed him a grin. "Is that right? Do you think it's fair to go on just that? Are his words enough?"

    "Uh...."

    "Don't listen to him, Fulcrum!" Krok said. "His tongue is as silver as a--"

    "I think you should leave, Krok." Getting up, Steel Jaw removed the beam and grabbed Krok by the arm. "Let Fulcrum and I have a little chat, so we can get to know each other better."

    As Krok struggled in his grip, Steel Jaw made a whistle and a crab-like Monstercon skittered in.

    "Clampdown, please take Krok here and find a good place for him to rest," Steel Jaw said. "Maybe near the airlock, in case we need to lighten the load."

    Clampdown's grille-like mouth curved into a grin and he moved to take Krok... only to cry out, pointing a pincer in alarm.

    "Boss, behind you!"

    Steel Jaw turned around in time to see Fulcrum hefting up the Requiem Blaster. Alarmed, the lupine Decepticon released Krok from his grip.

    "What in the Pit are you doing?!"

    "No one threatens my friend," Fulcrum said darkly, aiming the weapon at the Monstercon. "Especially if they want to gain my trust."

    Steel Jaw raised his hands. "Okay. Okay. Let's all just settle down. Put down the weapon and maybe we can get back on the right foot."

    Click click.

    "First thing's first," Fulcrum said, not lowering the large gun. "Give us control of the ship."

    Steel Jaw's expression darkened. "Do you really think you can wrestle control from us? We are more than half a dozen while you are only two."

    "I have a weapon that can obliterate you all in one go. Your argument is invalid."

    Click click click.

    Steel Jaw snorted. "What, and kill yourselves in the process? What do you expect to gain from that?"

    "You think I'm bluffing?"

    "Of course I think you're bluffing! You wouldn't dare do something that suicidal!"

    "You're talking to a K-Con, Steel Jaw. I'm all about suicide."

    Click click click click click.

    "What," Steel Jaw turned on his heel to face Krok, huddled in a corner, "is with all the clicking?"

    "It's not clicking, it's beeping," Krok said. "There are Decepticons in the vicinity."

    Steel Jaw let out a harsh laugh. "No, really? I wouldn't have guessed."

    "Hundreds."

    The Monstercon tilted his head. "Say that again?"

    "Ey, Steel Jaw?" Thunderhoof emerged from the cockpit, seeming completely oblivious to what was going on in front of him. "You should come see dis. And let me just say, fer the record: I'm doublin' my price, 'cos I ain't gettin' paid 'nuff for dis scrap."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

    "Hey, Crankcase?"

    "Don't talk to me, bolts-for-brains," Crankcase snapped, still wincing from the shock the guard had given him.

    "Are we the only ones in this prison?" Spinister went on.

    "Yes, we are," Crankcase said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "We're the only ones here. Any guards who electrocute me are purely figments of my imagination."

    "Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure there's someone staring at us from the other cell."

    Indeed, standing in the cell opposite their's was a large bot in silver and black, with a single yellow optic adorning their featureless face. Clearly an empurata victim, albeit a well-built one. A Decepticon sigil marked their chest.

    "Yeah?" Crankcase said, looking back at Spinister. "He's been there since we got here. Have you seriously not noticed him till now?"

    "No."

    Crankcase rolled his optics. "Well, don't mind him. He's probably just some hopeless los-"

    "Hey, Crankcase, how's it going?"

    The Triggercon frowned as he turned his head to the monoeyed mech. "How do you know my name?"

    "I'm Nitro Zeus. You might've heard of me."

    "No, I haven't. And what kind of a name is Nitro Zeus?"

    "We met once. Over a century ago. On Cybertron."

    Crankcase snorted, folding his arms. "A name like that, I'm sure I would have remembered you."

    "To be fair, there was a lot going on at the time," Nitro Zeus went on. "It's rather difficult to socialize when a giant freak high on Dark Energon is trying to kill you."

    Crankcase froze, his jaw falling open as he processed these words. "What...?"

    "You know who I'm talking about. Thunderwing. The Stormbringer."

    The Triggercon began to shake as he curled up into a ball, biting his blue fingers. Spinister looked at him in confusion before glaring at Nitro Zeus.

    "What did you do to him?"

    "Triggered a bad memory," Nitro Zeus replied, matter-of-factly. "Now, hit him on the back."

    "That's not cool. You can't just-- you just don't toy with people like that!"

    "I said hit him on the back! Hurry, before he recovers!"

    Still glaring at the other Decepticon, Spinister did as told and struck Crankcase in the back. Instantly, a pair of guns deployed from the Triggercon's back and fired at the ceiling. Before the two Scavengers, the ray shield dissolved just as an alarm sounded.

    "Great!" Nitro Zeus said. "Now do the same to my cell!"

    Spinister responded by extending his middle finger at the monoeyed bot before picking up Crankcase and dashing down the hall. Behind them, their Autobot guard came from around the corner and chase after them.

    "We have escapees from cell D-5!" he called into his comm. "Activate all defenses on Sector 821!"

    Immediately, small drones with guns ejected from the walls and rolled after the two Decepticons. Skidding to a halt, Spinister soon found himself cornered by a dozen drones. He decided to sum up the situation with a single word.

    "Scrap."

    In his arm, he felt Crankcase stir. "Let me go, you oaf."

    Spinister looked down at him. "Are you sure? You okay now?"

    "I'm never okay," Crankcase muttered as he freed himself from Spinister's hold. Deploying his guns again, he said, "What say we make these guys miserable as well?"

    "Sure. But, before we do that... why didn't you use your guns earlier?"

    "The spring's been rusted for years. I didn't think they worked anymore, or at least not as well."

    "Do they?"

    Crankcase fired his guns and destroyed five drones at once. "What does that tell you?"

*  *  *

    On the trip to wherever it was he was being taken to, Misfire learned a lot of things about Landslide that he did not know previously.

    One: Landslide did not like talking.

    Two: Landslide did not like people named Misfire.

    Three: ...He was certain there was a third thing, but couldn't think of it at the moment.

    Regardless, Misfire was sure Landslide was a complicated person with a lot of layers; he just wasn't showing it. No matter how many Misfire politely asked a simple question, he was simply given the cold shoulder.

    He was deprived the chance of pressing the issue further when Landslide brought him into a dark room. It looked a lot like a lab, going by the torture devices all around him and the unconscious bot laying on a slab. A Decepticon stood nearby -- well, not really stand so much as hover in place. Misfire was pretty sure he knew their name, but it wasn't coming to him for some reason.

    Landslide said something to the copter-bot -- none of which he could make out -- and before Misfire knew he was being laid down on another slab, clamps falling over his arms and legs. He then watched as Landslide retrieved a cable and hooked it up to the orange bot's head.

    Misfire had no idea what was happening, but he was not liking it one bit. He tried to protest but was silenced when Landslide attached the other end of the cable to his head.

    Misfire tried to think of some clever last words that suited his predicament, but none came to mind.

*  *  *

    Nitro Zeus could hear a lot of shooting.

    This upset him. Usually whenever he heard shooting, he was the one causing it. The sound of laughter only served to infuriate him further. How dare people take enjoyment in what he could not! He was Nitro Zeus! All lives were for him to take!

    There was a scream and before he knew it there was a dead Autobot guard lying outside his cell. He then looked up to see Crankcase and Spinister standing outside, both glaring at him.

    "Okay, scrap-head, here's the deal," Crankcase said. "We're going to free you and you're gonna help us get out of here. However, if you ever try to 'trigger' me again, Spinister here will rip your head off."

    Nitro Zeus glanced at Spinister, who met his optic with a look that could kill. Normally, Nitro would not cower over such empty threats... but seeing as both of them had guns and he didn't....

    "Okay," he said. "I hear you. Won't happen again. I promise."

    Crankcase snorted. "Right. I'm sure you do."

    He raised his guns and shot at the ray shield's generator, casing it to dissolve. As Nitro Zeus stepped out, Spinister handed him with a small pistol which he had looted off the dead Autobot. Nitro eyed the weapon with disdain.

    "You expect me to fight with that pathetic thing?"

    "Yes," Spinister said bluntly.

    "You don't like it, you're free to use your fists," Crankcase said. "Cos' Spinister sure as hell isn't giving you his."

    Nitro glanced back at Spinister, who was lugging a large shotgun -- also taken from the Autobot. Upon seeing the Scavenger's dirty look, Nitro took the pistol.

    "Doesn't matter. I'm sure I'll find a better one."

    "I wouldn't put money on that," Crankcase said.

    Spinister cocked his gun. "Enough talk. More shooting."

    "Well," Nitro muttered. "At least we have one thing we can agree on...."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

    "I can't believe this," Crankcase muttered.

    "Me neither," Spinister said, standing at the back of the cell, his optics fixated on the wall. "I've been staring at this wall for more than five hours and nothing's happening."

    Crankcase gritted his teeth. "You don't actually have heat vision, you moron. I was being sarcastic."

    Spinister snorted. "Right, like I believe you, insolent mortal. You're just trying to pretend that you didn't slip up and reveal to me my secret power. I'm sure there's just something I'm missing."

    "Yeah, a brain," Crankcase muttered, but Spinister did not seem to hear him, continuing to stare at the wall.

    Outside, the cell pass the ray shield that prevented them from leaving, the Autobot guard that had been passing by stopped and save them a dirty look.

    "I thought I told you two to be quiet."

    "Yeah, you did," Crankcase said. "Many times."

    "Then why aren't you--"

    "Because I don't take orders from Autobots, you grease-licking, piston-sucking--"

    The guard pressed a panel on his arm and Crankcase let out a scream as electricity coursed through his systems. When it had finished, he was a smoking heap on the floor, groaning as he tried and failed to get back up.

    "Say that again?" the guard said, a humorless smirk on his face.

    Crankcase's only response was to sputter.

    "That's what I thought."

    As the guard walked away, Spinister turned away from the wall, having been oblivious to the entire exchange. Upon seeing Crankcase's state, his optics went wide in awe.

    "Did I do that?" He held up his hands, staring at them with a newfound sense of wonder. "By Primus... I really do have powers."

*  *  *

     Much to Misfire's surprise, he was somehow still alive.

    Of course, his whole body felt like hell, but that was pretty much his only indication to his systems still functioning. In a way, though, he couldn't help but feel... disappointed.

    After all, this was the one and only Landslide, a legend amongst Decepticons. Or, at least, that was what Misfire had been told. To tell the truth, he didn't know anyone who had served under Landslide. Considering that and the fact no one had heard from him in over three hundred years, Misfire had begun to doubt the guy had even existed. But now that he knew he did, he wanted nothing more than to die at his hands, if only so he could brag to the others when they eventually joined him in the Afterspark.

    Unfortunately, Landslide seemed to no longer be interested in him and was speaking to some other loser. His audio receptors were fragged thanks to the beating he got, but he could still pick up a few words. Not that it did him any good, though, for he could not think of a reasonable topic that would involve volcanic rocks, heads, and needles.

    The two continued talking and at one point both of them glanced at him. Then Landslide sent the other bot away before walking back over to Misfire. The magenta Decepticon braced himself for the next round of beating, only to find that Landslide was releasing him from the slab he had been restrained to.

    Misfire still could not hear very well, but he was pretty sure he heard Landslide congratulate him for something. In response, he cracked a grin.

    "What can I say? Some of us are just that good."

    He wasn't sure if the look Landslide gave him was one of contempt or pity.

--Troja Major--

    "Ah yes, the Harbinger," Agonizer said, pulling a datapad from his collection. "Here we are. The only copy of its roster, drafted in Cycle 9701."

    "9701?" Krok said as he took the datapad. "That would have been around the Cataclysm."

    "Indeed!" Agonizer said. "After the Thunderwing incident, Megatron went on the defensive. He sent the Harbinger into deep space to keep its secret cargo out of reach. Not long after, all contact was lost by the time of the truce."

    Krok looked over the list of names on the roster. Other than Crankcase and Payload, he didn't recognize a single one. While he perused it, Agonizer sat patiently at his desk, his optics constantly drifting back to the Requiem Blaster, which laid in front of him.

    "You know," Agonizer murmured, steepling his fingers. "If I had known the Harbinger's cargo had been the Requiem Blaster, I would have sought it out much sooner."

    "Why do you say that?" Fulcrum asked. "Do you have an interest in artifacts of the Thirteen?"

    "Well, naturally," Agonizer said, sweeping his arm around his decorated office. "But the Requiem Blaster has long been an object of my desire. After all, it is -- was -- the weapon of our leader's namesake, not unlike the fusion cannon."

    "Oh, really?" Fulcrum glanced at Krok, still reading the list. "Did you know about that, Krok?"

    "No, and I don't care."

    Agonizer cleared his throat. "Even so, I expect you are looking for a... rather large sum money for it."

    "Correct." Krok lowered the datapad to meet Agonizer's eyes. "How does one million sound to you?"

    The Curator's right optic twitched. "One... million?"

    "I would ask for more, but since you're my friend...."

    Agonizer chuckled weakly. "Right. Friend. Of course." He suddenly rose from his seat and began to head for a back room. "Wait here. I have a few calls to make." And with that, the Curator was gone.

    Left alone with the Requiem Blaster, Fulcrum and Krok stared at the door Agonizer had just gone through. After a minute, the K-Con glanced at Krok.

    "Do you think he's gonna... sell us out or something?"

    "Agonizer is many things, but he's definitely not an idiot," Krok said. "He wouldn't dare try to pick a fight with us when we have the Requiem Blaster. He's probably just being stingy."

    "I don't see why though. He seems to really care about this kind of stuff. I don't see why--"

    "Quiet." Krok clicked the device in his clenched fist. "Someone's here."

    Fulcrum looked around but saw no one but him and Krok. "What do you--"

    Without warning, the door behind them was kicked open and a green frog-like robot lunged into the room. He pounced onto Krok, knocking him down, and stood on the monoformer as he scanned his surroundings with bulbous red eyes.

    "Where is it?!" he bellowed. "Where is the Sphere of Doradus?!"

    "A better question is, where's dis Agonizer friend o' yours?" said a blue mech with large horns, storming in with several other bots with animal-like features. "Did he know we would come and tailed out of here?"

    "Oh, don't worry, Thunderhoof," replied a lupine bot. "He couldn't have gotten far." His optics fell on Fulcrum and a predatory grin crossed his canine features.

    "You there. Fellow Decepticon. I don't suppose you've seen a bot named Agonizer around here, have you?"

    Fulcrum said nothing, staring at the animalistic Decepticons in stunned silence. Next to him, Krok was getting back to his feet, the Amphiboid having moved on to the cabinets of artifacts placed throughout the room. The lupine Decepticon shifted his gaze to the monoformer.

    "I know you," the Monstercon purred. "You're... is it Gatorface? No, wait, don't tell me... Gatoraider?"

    "Krok. My name is Krok."

    The 'Con snapped his fingers. "That was it! I knew it had something to do with reptiles."

    Fulcrum glanced at Krok. "You know this guy?"

    "Only in passing," Krok muttered. "He tried to stage a coup to take over the Decepticons after Megatron vanished. I was present during one of his rallies but ultimately didn't join. I figured he would fail... evidently, I was right."

    The lupine bot chuckled. "Not my most shining moment, I will admit, but time has given me a chance to reflect on my past failures and help me prepare for future endeavors."

    "So why are you here, Steel Jaw?" Krok asked, just as the Amphiboid knocked over a cabinet in rage. "Not to find Doradus, I hope."

    At that moment, Agonizer emerged from the back room and shrieked upon saying the destroyed cabinet. "What in Primus' name?! Who let you all in here?!"

    "We let ourselves in, grease-stain," said Thunderhoof, storming up to the Curator. "Now, you're coming with us."

    "What? No!" Agonizer shook his head, stepping back. "I can't leave! I'm expecting someone! They'll be here any minute!"

    "Tough," Thunderhoof growled, grabbing Agonizer by the arm. "Guess they'll just have to wait their turn."

    As the elk-like Decepticon took Agonizer, Fulcrum and Krok found themselves being grabbed by a large ape-like bot.

    "Hey!" Krok exclaimed. "What do you want with us?"

    "Sorry, Krok, but I can't afford to have word of our operations spread. Besides...." Steel Jaw's optics moved over to the Requiem Blaster, still on Agonizer's table. "I get the feeling that you have quite the story to tell us."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

--The Howling Town, Troja Major--

    "I know you're still upset with me." Click click.

    "Of course I'm still upset," Fulcrum replied, brushing past a Lanarqan as he and Krok pushed their way through the markets of Troja Major. "You just... you made us ditch Misfire just like that. Left him for the Hurcurons."

    "He sold us out!" Krok retorted, punctuating his words with yet another click from his clenched fist. "He just couldn't give up on that stupid t-cog and what does he end up doing? Finds a creature that feeds on t-cogs... and Cybertronian parts in general."

    "It's hardly the first time he's gotten us into a mess," Fulcrum muttered. "I don't see why now of all times you've decided to finally ditch him."

    "He'd become too much of a hindrance. If we'd stuck any longer with him, we'd both be dead."

    Fulcrum frowned at Krok, who kept on trudging forward. "What happened to us Decepticons needing to stick together? I thought you were all about not leaving anyone behind."

    "That's ridiculous." Krok clicked again. "What ever gave you that idea?"

    "Well, you insisted on going back for Crankcase when he was captured by Skuxxoids, you refused to leave Misfire and Spinister to the wrath of Pya'dorus the Pitiless'..."

    Krok's silence spoke volumes to Fulcrum. The other Scavenger did not speak another word until the two of them had reached their destination; a rather sizable shop marked by the sign "Museum of Curios and Rumored Objects."

    "Here we are," Krok said, stepping up to the front door. "No Rust Giants to chase us off this time."

    "So, this Agonizer fellow," Fulcrum said, figuring the previous subject to be as good as abandoned. "You two are brothers or something?"

    "I hesitate to use that word, but... in a sense." Krok stopped just before the door, his hand raised to push it open. "We were both built at the same time, but... I never really got the chance to know him before we were assigned to different squads. It wasn't until well after the Truce of 9701 that we reconnected somewhat."

    "Somewhat?"

    "Well, he's always been a major afthole...."

    With that, Krok pushed open the door and the two stepped into the museum. Right away they were greeted by the sight of numerous artifacts decorating the wall, many protected by glass cases or ray shields.

    Seated at a desk, buried in books and datapads, was a short mech in blue and green, with a pair of wings sticking up from his back. Upon noticing the two Scavengers, his yellow optics lit up and he rose from his seat with a grin plastered on his face.

    "Krok! Long time no see!" Agonizer came from around the desk and trotted over to Krok, a hand outstretched. "How's life been treating you? Did you get the crew you were looking for?"

    Krok stiffened as he shook Agonizer's hand. "Ah... no. Not exactly."

    "Hmm. Well, plenty of cyberfish in the sea." Agonizer's optics then shifted over to Fulcrum. "Although it looks like you've already caught at least one...."

    "Oh, yes, this is Fulcrum," Krok said, gesturing to his companion. "He, uh, we met several months ago."

    Agonizer rubbed his chin as he looked Fulcrum up and down, studying his frame. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Fulcrum, but is that a K-Class body type you've got there?"

    "Uh...." Fulcrum shifted uncomfortably. "I do get that a lot...."

    "Yes, I'd recognize that frame anywhere," Agonizer said. "I knew a K-Con during the Vulcanus campaign. Didn't know him long enough to get his name, but I tell ya, he was a blast to be around!"

    Krok and Fulcrum both stared in silence as Agonizer laughed at his own joke. Once he had stopped, the Curator waved a dismissive hand.

    "Sorry, sorry. Been watching too many of Skullcruncher's routines."

    "That explains a lot," Krok muttered under his breath.

    Agonizer snapped his fingers. "Hey, wait, you used to serve with him, didn't you? On Heretech's Warworld?"

    Krok's optics narrowed. "What of it?"

    "Nothing! It's just...." Agonizer chuckled. "Is it true you named yourself after your pet--"

    "So!" Fulcrum interjected, flashing a cheeky grin. "You're probably wondering why we're here!"

    "Evidently, it's not to reminisce," Agonizer said, raising an optic at Krok. "Why are you here then? You have something to sell? You wish to peruse?"

    "We're here to hopefully sell," Krok said, "provided you can authenticate our item in question."

    Agonizer smirked. "It is what I excel at. What is the item in question?"

    Sharing a brief glance with Fulcrum, Krok proceeded to open up a subspace pocket, from which he pulled out a massive black gun, decorated with red archaic markings.

    Agonizer frowned. "Uh, I'm sorry, but I don't accept weapons--"

    "You will accept this one," Krok said, holding the large gun in both of his arms. "Especially when I tell you that it is the one and only Requiem Blaster."

    Agonizer stared at the gun for a long time, his mouth ajar. Slowly, a grin began to form on his face, glee sparkling in his optics. He then threw his head back... and laughed. Loudly and mockingly.

    "Oh, this is pure gold!" Agonizer said in between guffaws. "This -- ha! -- this is unlike you, Krok. I'd expect this from some Genericon loser, but you? Mr. Uptight-And-Hates-Jokes? This is a far cry from your usual antics."

    "I'm not joking, Agonizer!" Krok retorted. "Just look at it, will you? I want to make sure I'm not missing an opportunity for--"

    Agonizer shook his head at him. "Krok, old friend, you don't need me to tell you that that's a fake. You could find any big gun and say it's the Requiem Blaster."

    "Well, the Star Seekers sure thought it was legit," Fulcrum murmured. "Especially after Misfire used it to kill a Titan."

    "Oh, yeah? Where did you find it?"

    "It was being kept on a Decepticon ship called the Harbinger," Krok said.

    Agonizer's face lit up at this. "The Harbinger? You mean the Ghost Ship?"

    "Yes. We found it on Junkion, where it had crashed. From what we could gather of the Harbinger, the crew were told to hold onto the weapon at Megatron's behest for future examination."

    At this, Agonizer looked back at the gun with a more appraising look. "Is that right? In that case...." He took the gun from Krok's hands. "Perhaps we can reach some sort of arrangement."

    "Do you know anything about the Harbinger?" Fulcrum asked. "We, uh, couldn't garner much info from the ship itself."

    Agonizer laughed, far less mockingly this time. "Of course I do! What do you think I do for a living? I know everything about the Harbinger, from ship schematics to complete roster. What others' consider myth, I consider common knowledge."

    "So we have a deal?" Krok asked.

    Agonizer smirked. "Come into my office and we'll discuss things further."

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VII, Prologue

PROLOGUE

    In hindsight, a mutiny was bound to happen.

    Here we were, six Decepticons (seven if you counted the Mini-Con) forced to work together in order to make a living. None of us liked each other and it was honestly a miracle it had taken us this long to start shooting each other.

    It started with Spinister, of all 'Cons. Having won so much money from his lottery tickets, the helicopter buffoon had stranded the rest of us on Technos, taking the W.A.P. for himself. Luckily, Spacewarp knew of a ship lot on Technos and we were able to get ourselves back on track.

    Next to go was Spacewarp herself. Realizing that we Scavengers were a bunch of hopeless losers (her words, not mine), she ditched us on Tenebris Necro when Crankcase accidentally disturbed the living graves.

    After that, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the dominoes fell. Crankcase marooned us on Skyrus Seven, and Krok and Fulcrum ended up abandoning me at Hurcuron Four. That's when you showed up.

    And can I just say how much of an honor it is to finally meet you in person, oh mighty Landslide. I've heard many a tale of your Cyberforming campaign during the war. My favorite was Nix Terra -- sorry, I mean New Helex. That was you, right? Man, you sure did show that Ultra Magnus guy. I heard he was incapacitated for months after you sawed him in half.

    But there's something I've always been meaning to ask you... because I know that New Helex used to have snow before you... did your thing. So even though the point's moot now -- I mean, that was, what, over six hundred years ago? -- I have to ask, because it's something that's been bothering me for... for years. So, if you don't mind me asking....

    Did you see your reflection in the snow-covered hill?

    Ha! See -- ow! -- you wouldn't be -- ow! -- hurting me if -- ouch! -- you've never heard of that -- yipe! -- song. And you won't -- ow! -- admit it because -- oof! -- you're -- ack! -- a -- oomph! -- technoist.

    Hey, no worries. I like that song too. How did you pick it up? I got it when we dropped by Earth to... sorry, what was that? 

    Oh, last words? Hm... how do you say "frag you" in Old Malignus?

GAMES PEOPLE PLAY

The Scavengers Sequel Nobody Asked For

Transformers Regenerated: Tales - Made of Iron

EDITED 7/2/2019 Replaced Ironworks with Ironclad

MADE OF IRON

A Regenerated Short Story

---

Cybertron, Cycle 5816

    Night had fallen and work had begun.

    It was a strange routine -- Ironhide didn't mind it, but it made things difficult when the rest of the planet was in shutdown. He would have to wait until he awoke from recharge to see if his friend in Iacon had gotten his message.

    Still, he didn't let it bother him. Despite having only been online for two stellar cycles, he had already grown accustomed it. Besides, he still had plenty of bots to talk to in Thetacon; so long as they kept working, the chief was tolerant of socializing.

    Tonight had started off as any other; upon awakening, he had lined up with the rest of his team and given their orders by the chief. The task had been the same as it always had been for the past two years: build a fortress to be placed in Iacon to defend it from the Decepticon threat.

    Progress on the fortress had been slow going however. Part of it (or most of it perhaps) was because the chief did not see the Decepticons as big of a threat as they had been made out to be and saw the project as a waste of resources.

    "Did Iacon need a fortress when Nominus Prime was assassinated?" Ox would always say. "Or when the Maladroids invaded Simfur? Or when the Destrongers tried to abduct Guardian Prime?"

    It was Ox's belief that the Decepticons would be dealt with in good time and that Sentinel Prime was overcompensating with a fortress. Ironhide wasn't sure how well that would go over with Delta Magnus when he visited for his routine inspection next solar cycle, but that wasn't Ironhide's concern. He was simply here to work and nothing else.

    He only wished others had that same mindset.

    "Come on, Ironbuster," he called over to his fellow Thetacon, who was sat upon the stack of beams he was supposed to be carrying. "Get your aft moving. This fortress ain't gonna build itself."

    "All right, all right!" the blue and red mech said, getting up and lifting his burden. "Just taking a breather."

    "Yeah, your fifth in as many minutes," Ironhide grunted. "What's holding you up anyway?"

    "Ironclad was telling me stories of the Primal Vanguard last night," Ironbuster replied. "Did you know it was Sentinel EnN who defeated Cannibaron during the Destron Wars?"

    "Who and who?"

    "Well, see, Cannibaron had gotten his hands on the Sphere of Doradus, so--"

    "Kid, I don't really care. Just do you work--"

    "Hey, who are you calling 'kid?' You're only a year older than me!"

    "It's short for 'skidplate,' 'cos you're acting like one," said a heavily built red femme with a gold chest, coming up alongside the two mechs. "Besides, I'm sure Ironclad's just pulling your leg. She wouldn't have been there during the Destron Wars."

    "Why not? I mean, she's the only one of us who was forged, so she could've--"

    "Hold it." Ironhide brought the group to a stop, raising a hand to his optics as he looked up to the star-lit sky. "Are my optics playing tricks or is that a flier up there?"

    The other two looked up to see a jet circling over the worksite. At that moment, the three Thetacons heard the rumble of an engine and looked to see a large tank rolling into the settlement.

    "Aw, scrap," Ironbuster said, dropping his load as he raised his hands. "I knew this day would come!"

    "Do not panic, people of Thetacon!" Descending from above, the jet transformed and landed before them, revealing a red and black robot form. "We come in peace."

    Ironbuster's mouth fell open in shock. "Councilor Ulchtar?"

    Ironhide frowned. "Who?"

    "Vos' representative on the High Council," Irontread explained. "What are you doing here in Thetacon, Councilor? Especially at this hour?"

    Ulchtar smiled. "Just thought I'd stop by. I'm due for a meeting in Tesarus tomorrow, so I thought I'd see how progress on the fortress was going."

    Ironhide gestured to the tank behind Ulchtar. "And him?"

    "Hm? Oh, yes." Ulchtar turned to the tank. "Do you mind showing yourself?"

    The tank transformed, assuming the shape of a large mech with tall shoulders and a horned helmet. Irontread and Ironbuster both stepped back in shock while Ironhide simply looked on curiously. Ulchtar turned back to them with a smile.

    "My friends, this is Trannis."

    "I know who he is," Irontread murmured. "He's the one who killed Guardian Prime--"

    "Ah, let's not start off on erroneous information," Trannis said, smiling. "The assassination of Guardian Prime was a tragic event and, while it was admittedly performed by a self-proclaimed Decepticon, it was not at my command."

    "Really?" Ironbuster frowned. "Because only a month prior, you held that rally at Nova Point."

    "I am a powerful speaker. Some may have taken my words to an extreme I had not intended."

    "Still, the damage has been done," Ironhide murmured.

    Trannis shifted his gaze to him. "What's your name, lad?"

    "Ironhide. And don't call me 'lad.'"

    "My apologies. It was rude of me to assume your age."

    "Actually, he's only been online for two years," Irontread said. "He acts like he's a thousand though. He even treats me like a protoform, and I have fifty years on him!"

    Trannis smiled. "Is that so? So tell me, Ironhide, what do you do for a living?"

    "I build stuff."

    "And are you content with that?"

    Ironhide shrugged. "I guess? I mean, it's life."

    "Yes... life as dictated by the system. Have you ever dreamed of being something more?"

    "I...." Ironhide glanced at Ulchtar. "Councilor, what's--"

    "Answer his question," Ulchtar replied curtly.

    Iornhide rubbed his head. "No. No, I can't say I have."

    "Understandable. You haven't lived long enough yet to come to question the system." Trannis looked to Irontread. "And you? You've lived longer than he has. Have you had aspirations outside your caste?"

    Irontread shifted her feet. "I... I have, actually. I've always wanted to be in the Primal Vanguard. I wouldn't even need to change alt modes; I could just repurpose my smokestacks into barrels and I'd be set. But alas, I can't."

    "You can," Trannis said. "Or at least, you can if you join us."

    Irontread blinked. "What?"

    "Don't even think about it, Irontread!" Ironbuster said. "These guys are monsters! They killed Guardian Prime!"

    Trannis sighed. "Again, a completely unsanctioned act--"

    "I don't care! If violence is what your speeches inspire, then I want no part in it. Sure, functionism is restrictive, but I prefer it over anarchy!"

    "That's too bad. I'm sorry you feel that way." Trannis returned his gaze to Ironhide. "And you, Ironhide? Are you still undecided?"

    "I... I don't know." Ironhide shook his head. "I don't really pay much attention to what happens outside Thetacon. I just do my duty and worry about little else."

    "Well, at the very least, I admire your work ethic." Trannis nodded to the unfinished fortress. "It definitely shows."

    "Indeed," Ulchtar said. "Perhaps we should let them resume their work. We've already preoccupied them for long enough."

    "Of course." Trannis waved a hand to the three Thetacons. "It has been a pleasure meeting you all. And Ironhide, do try to read up a little more on the world you live in."

    "Uh, right," Ironhide said, watching as Trannis and Ulchtar transformed and took off into the night.

*  *  *

    The next night, he received his message from Kup and learned that the Kudon Act had been passed, allowing manual class as himself liable to enroll at the Autobot Academy.

    The next week, construction of the Fortress Maximus was completed, owed to Delta Magnus playing a little intimidation game with Ox.

    The next month, Ironhide and his friends attended the Autobot Academy in Iacon. It had been the first time Ironhide had ever left Thetacon.

    The next year, Irontread mysteriously vanished. Ironhide didn't need to guess where she had gone.

    The next decade, Ironhide defended Thetacon from the Decepticons. Irontread was among the invaders, bearing their insignia. She never once acknowledged him.

    The next century, Ironbuster was accepted into the Primal Vanguard. Ironhide was turned down for the 84th time.

    The next millennium, Ironhide met Kup face-to-face for the first time. They drank together at Maccadam's for a good ten hours. On that same day, the Decepticons unveiled Trypticon Fortress, based on the same schematics as Fortress Maximus. Ironhide never made the connection to that day he first met Trannis.

    The next and last time he saw Trannis, it was on the day after the Battle of Iacon, nearly two thousand years after that day. Ironhide stood guard as Trannis was escorted to sign the Tyrest Accord. As he passed by, Trannis had stopped and met Ironhide's eyes. The Decepticon leader's optics had then shifted to the Autobot badge on his shoulder and he sneered.

    "You didn't do as I asked."

    Ironhide said nothing as Trannis was pushed on towards the meeting room. Once he was gone, Ironhide allowed himself a smirk. Standing next to him, Kup had noticed and raised an optic.

    "What's so funny, lad?"

    "Joke's on him," Ironhide said. "I can't read."

FIN

Transformers Regenerated: Prime Wars VI, Epilogue

EPILOGUE: WITHOUT REGRETS

--The past--

    "Jetfire, is it?"

    "Yeah," the white and red flier replied, staring at the floor of his cell. "You're Prowl, right? I've heard about you."

    Prowl frowned as he looked at the prisoner. "Nothing good, I take it?"

    "No, but then, Windtrail never had anything nice to say about cops." Jetfire looked up at him. "You remember Windtrail don't you? Iacon, Cycle 8807? It was just after Decepticon rhetoric had begun to make a resurgence."

    "Not ringing any bells."

    Jetfire shrugged. "Eh, not important. Never liked him much anyway."

    "So why did you join the Decepticons?"

    "I would think it was obvious," Jetfire said. "I'm an aspiring scientist who turns into a jet. How many of those do you see everyday?"

    "Point taken," Prowl admitted. "So why did you end up selling out your friends?"

    "I hesitate to use that term. But to answer your question, I had come to the realization that being a Decepticon seemed to also mean being an aggressive pain-in-the-aft. I may hate the system as it stands now, but I hate jerks and crooks even more. I never signed on to hurt anyone. I just wanted to make a change."

    "I see," Prowl murmured. "Well, seeing as you never actually did anything to benefit the Decepticons -- at least as far as I or anyone can tell -- along with the fact that you helped us apprehend three 'Cons...."

    Prowl pressed a button and the ray shield to Jetfire's cell vanished. The jet looked up at him in surprise.

    "You're letting me go?"

    Prowl smiled. "Of course. Like I said, you did nothing wrong."

    "Then... why even arrest me?"

    "Because I have an offer for you. And based on what you've told me, I think you're really going to like it."

--Now--

    "She said it was supposed to be right here."

    "Well, it's evidently not anymore." The tallest of the two bots made a tut-tut sound. "Shame. It would have been a nice catch."

    Rising to their feet, the other bot looked around the empty caverns. "So what now? Are we out of job? I hear the Secret Order is pretty much done for...."

    "There are thousands of Titans still out there, Ransack. We're hardly out of a job. As for the Secret Order...." Lockdown tapped his hook-hand against the wall. "I have it on good authority that they're still recuperating from a major setback but plan on getting back to business as soon as possible. In the meantime however, I've got another big client on the books."

    Digging his hook into the wall, Lockdown began to scale it back to the surface.

    "And unlike the Secret Order, I don't think they'll take too kind to failure."

TO BE CONTINUED