CHAPTER THREE
--Luna 1--
"You hear that?"
Getaway emerged from his car form, straightening up to look over to Elita-One. "Hear what?"
"Exactly." Elita frowned as she looked around the battlefield, littered with Vehicon parts... yet no longer filled with active fighting. "Everything's stopped."
Getaway looked around as he came to this realization. "Huh. So it has."
"We've also appeared to have lost some of our members," commented Convoy, approaching the two along with Nautica and Ratchet. "I've lost contact with Skids."
"Cyclonus and Whirl are also missing," Ratchet added. "Otherwise, it wouldn't be nearly as quiet."
"And my feed with Optimus got cut off," Elita muttered. "Something's not right here. Let's regroup with the Wreckers and scour the moon for them."
"Blind leading the blind, eh?" a voice called out. "Not a sound strategy if you ask me."
The five Autobots all turned to see a group of Junkions standing before them, their leader Wreck-Gar taking center stage. Getaway clenched his fists as he glared at the Junkions.
"You guys can frag off. You're the reason we ended up in this mess."
Wreck-Gar sighed over-dramatically as he shook his head. "No wise man has the power to reason away. We're all pieces of chess being moved from one end of the board to the other."
Elita raised an optic ridge at him. "What are you talking about?"
"But the board's been dropped and now all the pieces are scattered. To take down the Queen, we must come together, right now."
"After what you've done for us so far?" Getaway scoffed. "Fat chance."
Wreck-Gar shrugged. "If you don't love me now, you'll never love me again. You can go your own way, but come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination."
"I say we go with them," Convoy said.
Getaway glanced at him. "You can't be serious."
"If anyone knows where Prime and the others have gone to, it's them. They evidently know things we don't about Luna One, so what choice do we have?"
Getaway was about to protest when Elita said, "I agree."
"Oh, for crying out--!" The escape artist ran a hand down his faceplate. "Am I the only one who sees a major problem with this?"
"No," Ratchet said. "But like Convoy said, who else can we turn to?"
Getaway exvented loudly as he shook his head. "Once again, I'm the only voice of reason. But hey, who am I to judge? Elita's the boss, after all."
Elita cast an aside glance at him before turning back to the Junkions. "All right. Let's regroup with the Wreckers, then you can be our guides."
Wreck-Gar grinned as he tapped the side of his head. "I've got the brains, you've got the brawn. Let's make lots of money."
* * *
"So, ah... what did you say your name was again?"
The black and red bot did not look back at Brainstorm as he piloted the drill machine through Luna One's underground tunnels. "Scamper."
"Scamper. And you're an Autobot?"
"No."
"Um, come again?" Swerve stepped forward and tapped the red symbol on his chest. "What's this then?"
"I wore the First Face long before Nova Prime appropriated it for his Commonwealth," Scamper said. "While I have supported your cause, I've never considered myself one of you."
"So wait, you're from the Bronze Age?" Rewind asked. "Did you... does that mean you lived during the War of the Primes?"
Scamper scoffed. "I'm not that old. I was forged midway into the Galactus Crusades."
"That's still, like, ridiculously old," Swerve said.
"I suppose it is. Honestly, the years have passed like days for me. That happens when you spend your entire life in the same place."
"Now I recognize you," Rung said. "You were the Caretaker of Metroplex."
"Wait! Caretaker with a capital 'C?'" Swerve exclaimed. "Whoa! I thought that was just a myth! Like, a ghost story Kup would tell to scare cadets."
"That old timer's still around?" Scamper smirked. "Glad to know he still remembers me, in his own unique way."
"So you've been with Metroplex all these years?" Brainstorm asked. "Even when Optimus woke him up and he clobbered Trypticon and stuff?"
Scamper nodded. "He and I've been through a lot. Yet our bond's only gotten stronger over the years."
"I heard he'd died," Rung murmured.
A shadow fell over Scamper's face. "He did."
"Were you... there when it happened?"
"I've never left his side for the last seven thousand years. Today is the first time I've ever been away from him."
"Why now then?" Rung asked. "And why come for me?"
"Because, Rung of the Pious Pools, they're coming for you."
"Who's they?"
Scamper did not answer as he adjusted the controls of the machine. Both Swerve and Tailgate let out a wail as the drill made a sharp turn upwards as it began to tunnel its way towards the surface.
"Hold on tight, everyone," Scamper announced. "The entire fate of our race is hanging in the balance."
* * *
"He'll live," Dion said as he sealed up the unconscious Chromedome's chest plate. "Might want to give him some time to properly reset."
Skids nodded as he watched Dion pick up WALL-E and place him on his shoulder. EVE zipped around the orange and blue Autobot before settling herself next to WALL-E, giving Skids a small wave.
"So," Skids said after taking a moment to process everything. "I take it Cop-Tur's at home?"
Dion smiled. "Yeah. We figured the kid earned a break after everything that happened last time. He's in good hands right now."
"So how did you guys get here? Did you find another time machine or something?"
Dion shook his head. "No, we had some... outside help."
As if on cue, a fourth bot appeared from behind the time travelers, bearing an ancient, almost regal design. Skids frowned as he quickly put a name to the familiar azure face.
"Vector Prime."
The ancient Prime nodded curtly to the Autobot in recognition. "Skids, correct? It's been some time."
"I'll say. What happened to your quest to punish time travelers?"
Vector sighed as he looked away. "I had... an epiphany when I took a closer look at you and Dion's endeavors. For so long I had made a vow to never meddle with the future and to let things unfold naturally... yet I saw the good you and your friends had accomplished and I realized... perhaps I can make a difference in my participation."
"...Uh-huh." Skids glanced at Dion. "Do you believe any of this?"
Dion shrugged. "He offered to lend us a hand and we accepted. I didn't think we'd find another opportunity to help you guys, so we took the first chance we got."
"And let me guess... you've come back for Megatron."
Dion smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Skids. I've got a mission to do. If it's any comfort, the Alliance has agreed to postpone his trial until everything's been taken care of here, so... there's that. Also...."
Skids raised an optic ridge as Dion trailed off, only to then glance at WALL-E and EVE, who were both shifting awkwardly.
"Wait... you're not thinking of...?"
"I feel that he should know, Skids. Before he... before it's too late." Dion sighed as he looked away. "They've both agreed to it, in any case."
"Yeah, but I don't think--"
"Your friend's waking," Vector Prime said.
Skids glanced to see Chromedome sitting up. The mnemosurgeon rubbed his helm as he looked around.
"Ugh, what happened? Felt like I had an out-of-body experience."
"More or less," Skids said as he helped him up. "You feeling all right?"
"Yeah, I just...." Chromedome paused as he noticed Dion and Vector Prime standing nearby. His visor noticeably widened when he noticed WALL-E and EVE. "What the...?"
"Yeah." Skids smiled. "Welcome to my life."
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