Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter Four

PURPOSE

“Still nothing?”

Nightbeat shook his head, leaning against the door to a habitation suite. “Not a word. Part of me is worried that he’s not even in there and that he’s been abducted again.”

Nautica huffed, both worried and exasperated. “Well, we can’t just stand around all day and wait for him to open up. We have to do something.”

Nightbeat shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions, because I’m at a loss here.”

Nautica frowned as she started to pace back and forth. Ever since they had gotten rid of the Dire Wraiths and the Destructons (for now), and met up with the Earthforce on Metroplex, Rung had locked himself up in a random hab suite and not spoken to anyone. Everyone who had been involved in his rescue knew that he was kicking himself over Skids getting captured by Chief Justice Tyrest so that Rung could escape. But no amount of consolation from any of them had been able to coax him out of his isolation.

She could relate, of course. She was just as worried for Skids as everyone else was. But she also knew that Skids would not want them moping around for his sake rather than doing something productive. Brainstorm was already hard at work fixing the teleportation gauntlet that had brought Rung back in the first place, though Primus only knew whether he would be able to fix it in time before Tyrest brought whatever kinds of punishment onto Skids.

After a minute or two of pacing, she said, “Is there anyone we know who Rung would absolutely have to open up his door for?”

“I dunno,” Nightbeat replied. “As far as I know, we’re some of the only friends he has… if we can even call ourselves that.”

“Of course we can! But surely there is someone on the Lost Light — other than Skids — who Rung is really best pals with. Someone he can trust. Someone like—”

“What are you losers up to?”

Nautica yelped as she spun around to see a tall, spindly blue bot standing behind her, yellow optic staring unblinkingly. “Whirl!” she exclaimed. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Hey, I’ve gotta keep my super-stealth skills up to snuff somehow,” the ex-Wrecker replied. “You guys are the only practice targets I’ve got. Especially now that Cyclonus is gone….”

Nautica’s initial surprise was washed away by a feeling of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Whirl,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much you missed him. I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I didn’t. He was a complete jerk. He threatened to kill me. I have never hated anyone so much in my whole life and I will probably never find anyone like him ever again. Of course I miss him.”

“Oh.” Nautica wasn’t sure how to respond and she looked to Nightbeat for guidance. A shrug was all she got.

Already moving on from the subject of himself, Whirl pointed a claw at the locked door. “What have you got in there?”

“Rung,” Nightbeat answered. “He’s not seeing anyone at the moment.”

“So, what, you’re safeguarding him or something?”

“No, we’re trying to get him to come out and talk to us,” Nautica said. “He’s still upset over Skids and we want to—”

“Here, let me handle this.” Ignoring Nautica’s protests, Whirl stepped over and shoved Nightbeat aside. Rearing back his leg, he gave the door an almighty kick and sent it falling off its hinges, landing with a loud metal thud.

“Whirl!” Nautica hissed. “Do you not know the meaning of ‘tactful?!’”

“No,” Whirl bluntly replied. “Seriously, I’ve never heard that word before. What does it mean?”

While Nautica continued to glare daggers at the former Wrecker, Nightbeat squeezed himself past the two of them and entered Rung’s room. The only light came from a small lamp on a desk which Rung sat at, his back turned to his visitors. He did not seemed to have noticed their entrance, remaining motionless as they began to approach him.

“Rung?” Nautica carefully stepped up to stand behind Rung’s chair, resting a hand on the headrest. “Is… everything all right?”

“It depends on what you mean by ‘everything,’ Nautica,” Rung quietly replied, not looking up to face her.

She peered over his shoulder and saw a datapad resting in his hand, a wall of Cybertronian text slowly scrolling up the screen. “What, uh, what’s that you’re looking at?”

“Just some old logs, back when I first started working as a psychotherapist.” Rung thumbed through the entries, watching as their dates flashed past his optics. “I haven’t looked at these in eons.”

“How far back do they go?” asked Nightbeat, coming up to stand next to Nautica.

“Thousands of years,” Rung replied. “Long before the Silver Age, even. Look, here’s one from Cycle 2012, during the reign of Alpha Prime.”

He showed the datapad to the other two. The words on the screen were in Old Cybertronian, something which Nautica had never seen on a datapad (at least one that was kept up to date). From what little she could decipher, it seemed to concern an individual by the name of Coronus.

“Coronus.” Nautica rubbed her chin. “I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”

“He was the one to discover the existence of planets beyond Cybertron,” Rung explained. “It was not long after this discovery that Galactus Prime commenced his crusades against the universe.”

“And you wrote about him because…?” Nightbeat said.

“Apparently, he was one of my earliest patients.”

“Why do you say ‘apparently?’”

“Because I don’t remember ever meeting him. In fact, I don’t recall writing any of these entries, at least not any of the ones predating the Silver Age. I’ve heard of information creep, but the fact that none of this rings a bell at all….”

“Sounds like shadowplay, if you ask me,” Whirl interjected.

Nautica gave him a weary look. “Whirl….”

“What? That’s what they did back in the day; you don’t need to be a conspiracy nut to figure that out by now.”

“But why would they use shadowplay on Rung? It’s not like he was a political activist or anything that the High Council would consider a threat.”

“Not unless he knew something the Council didn’t want him to know,” muttered Nightbeat.

Nautica glanced at him. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that if Rung is as old as his logs suggest, then there must have been something he knew back then that the Council wanted him to forget at a certain point in time. Whether it was Nominus Prime or Proteus’ party, someone somewhere wanted him to forget something.”

“It was Nova Prime,” Rung said.

The others all turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Tyrest told me that I have the ability to produce photonic crystals — the very same photonic crystals used to store the spark energy Prime had derived from the Matrix. After the Matrix ‘went dry,’ Nova Prime no longer had need for my abilities and thus had them erased from my memory. I suppose they ended up erasing more than they had meant to….”

“And you trust Tyrest to tell you the truth?” Nightbeat asked, skeptically.

“No,” Rung admitted. “But I have no reason to believe he’s lying, in this case.”

“Why is that?” Nautica asked.

“Because I’ve finally figured it out. I now know what my function is.”

Nightbeat moved with a start, grabbing onto the back of Rung’s chair. “You do?”

“Yes.” Setting down the datapad, Rung slowly turned around in his seat as the others backed away. With a calm expression on his face, he asked, “Where’s Brainstorm?”

Nightbeat and Nautica exchanged confused looks. “Uh, in his lab, I believe,” said the latter. “Wherever that is here. Why?”

“I need to see him.” Rung rose from his chair and began to head towards the door only for Whirl to block his path.

“Whoa, hold on there,” said the ex-Wrecker. “You can’t just leave us hanging like that. Spill the beans.”

“I’m sorry, Whirl, but I must see Brainstorm right away. It’s urgent.”

“Not as urgent as telling us what you’re all about.”

Rung shook his head. “It’s far more urgent than that. Unless you don’t consider Skids’ rescue as a high priority?”

Whirl blinked before stepping out of the way. “Oh. Never mind then.”

*  *  *

“Dang it. Where did I put my… Percy! Have you seen my hydrospanner? Never mind, I found it.”

Brainstorm pulled the socket wrench tool out from a pile of other miscellaneous gadgets, causing some of them to fall to the floor with a loud clatter. Hearing the commotion, Wheeljack turned away from the computer screen he and Perceptor had been staring at for the past several hours and affixed the Autobot Genius with a stern look.

“Hey! You’re not in your lab anymore, Brainstorm! Be careful with that stuff!”

Brainstorm rolled his optics as he resumed work on the damaged teleportation gauntlet. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be careful with your precious crap the next time a fellow Autobot’s life is hanging in the balance.”

“Brainstorm, we get that you’re concerned for Skids,” Perceptor said calmly. “Believe me, we all are. But trashing Wheeljack’s lab isn’t going to—”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Perceptor,” Brainstorm snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like to screw up so miserably so many times that you become desperate to do something — just one thing — right. I’ll help Wheeljack clean his lab up later… but I need to do this. I need to correct my mistakes.”

Perceptor sighed, stepping away from the computer and over to where Brainstorm was working. The other scientist continued working without acknowledging him. “Brainstorm, it’s not your fault that Skids got left behind. He chose to have Rung wear the device—”

“It was supposed to teleport both of them back! Not just one! Of course it’s my fault!”

Perceptor frowned, uncertain of what to say. He looked over to Wheeljack, hoping the engineer would help provide some additional words of consolation, but he had already returned his attention to the screen displaying his research on Sumdac. Looking back at Brainstorm, he saw that the scientist was already more or less finished with the repairs on the teleportation gauntlet. Whether or not it would operate as intended was another matter entirely, of course.

“Do you have a plan on how to rescue him?” Perceptor asked after a moment.

“I figured I would worry about that after I finished fixing the blasted thing,” Brainstorm muttered.

“In any case, I think you should bring it up with Star Saber or Elita before—”

A knock sounded at the door. Before the other two could react, Wheeljack had already gone up to it and swung it open without a second thought.

“Elita! Great news! I think I’ve—” He immediately stopped when he realized that it was not Elita-One but Rung, Nautica, Nightbeat, and Whirl standing in front of him. “You’re not Elita,” he said as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation of all time.

“We aren’t?” Whirl asked. “Wow. All my life I could have sworn I was.”

Pushing past Wheeljack and into the lab, Rung set his sights on Brainstorm. “Is it ready?” he asked, pointing to the gauntlet.

“Uh, just about,” Brainstorm replied, regarding him curiously. “I, uh, gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you of all bots barge in and act all hero-like.”

“Skids sacrificed himself to rescue me. I wouldn’t be much of an Autobot if I didn’t return the favor.”

“Yeah, but if you get captured again, then this whole thing will have been a waste of time. You’re sure you don’t want someone like, I dunno, Springer or someone do it for you?”

Rung shook his head. “Anyone else would want Elita or Star Saber’s approval, and they would never accept a mission like this. No, it has to be one of us and I don’t want anyone else to sacrifice themselves for my sake. I would rather have it be me.”

“Actually,” Nightbeat murmured. “Don’t we have someone else of high-rank and great talent hanging around, waiting to do something incredible?”

“You mean Thunderclash?” asked Wheeljack. “Last I heard, he and the others are still recovering from the Dire Wraith thing. I don’t know if they’re able enough for another undertaking.”

“A true Autobot is always abl—”

Whirl let out a terrified scream as he fell over backwards and landed on his head. Standing over him, having just come from down the hall, was Thunderclash in all of his white, red, blue, and gold glory. He looked down at Whirl with a confused expression before turning to those in the lab and flashing a charming grin.

“Sorry for the sudden entrance; I just got out of the CR chamber and couldn’t help but overhear the commotion as I was walking out of the medbay. You say you need to rescue someone?”

The others all exchanged glances before shifting their gazes to Brainstorm. The scientist looked down at the teleportation gauntlet before shrugging.

“Just give me another minute. Then you guys can be badasses all you want.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter Three

JUST PRIME

It had been a long time since the city of Tyger Pax had looked this beautiful.

Ever since it had been destroyed by the Decepticons a thousand years ago, mere days before the Second Great War, it had more or less been abandoned while the Autobots focused on preserving and fortifying their more important city-states, such as Iacon and the Tri-Torus States. The resources simply could not have been spared to restore the once-prestigious city. Then the Cataclysm happened. Then Unicron happened. Then the Restoration. Then Thunderwing.

It was only now, just over a year after it had been revitalized by Vector Sigma, was Orion Pax finally allowed to enjoy the city he had once called home.

From the window of his living quarters, he could see the glistening silver streets of Peace Boulevard, overseen by the sparking statue of his ancestor and namesake of the city. According to the stories, Tyger Pax had been something of a frontier hero. While the rest of Cybertron focused on expansion in the stars, Tyger Pax was more interested in exploring the unknown regions of the planet itself. This was how he came upon the territory beyond Simfur that was ripe with foundation for a new city-state. After decades upon centuries of petitioning to the High Council, the city of Tyger Pax was officially established in Cycle 5716, if only because of Tyger Pax’s close friendship with Guardian Prime.

It was to here from Iacon that the House of Pax relocated, further legitimatizing its existence in the eyes of many, though some on the High Council saw it as a ploy for their enemy parties to gain an extra seat and thus outvote them. Tyger Pax himself had no interest in politics however and he quietly retired just a year before the First Great War broke out. Surviving the war mostly unscathed, the city of Tyger Pax served as a symbol of tranquility during the Golden Age, an image tarnished only by the Devastator Winds unleashed by the Decepticons in 8814.

Much like the House of Pax itself, it had seen much suffering as a result of the Great Wars. Even with peace having finally been restored, there was still a lingering feeling of… emptiness that could not be ignored. As if a vital piece was missing.

As far as Orion knew, he was the last surviving member of the House of Pax. Tyger was long dead as was Magnum. Any other members had either passed before the war or killed during it. If there were any other Paxes remaining, he had yet to hear from any of them. Only a handful of bots lived in the city currently, none of them people he recognized. In fact, he was pretty sure most of them were neutrals who had stayed out of the war and had only settled in Tyger Pax because it was furthest from the pro-Autobot state of Iacon. If one lived here, they would have no clue of the politicking taking place all around the planet — unless they accessed the Cybernet, of course. Knowing these people however, Orion doubt they would ever want to. He already knew he didn’t.

Yet here he was, standing with his back to his visitor, as he heard the words he had been 

dreading to hear ever since he had settled back in his home-city twelve months ago.

“We need you to come back.”

Orion Pax sighed as he forced himself to muster the words he needed to say. Even though deep down he didn’t want to say them, he knew, for both of their sakes, he needed to.

“No.”

Though he could not see her, Orion could tell Windblade was frowning. “No?” she echoed, incredulity and disappointment mixing in her voice.

“Windblade, my time is over,” Orion went on, keeping his gaze focused on the view outside. “I’ve already saved Cybertron, more times than I ever thought I would need to. It’s long time for someone else to take charge. That’s why you have Rodimus now.”

“But, that’s just it,” Windblade said, her voice raising with urgency. “Rodimus Prime is gone. We lost him through a space bridge to Carcer and have been unable to bring him back.”

Orion stiffened at that. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how and why that was bad news. Nonetheless, he tampered what would have been his reflexive response. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

He immediately regretted his words when he heard the hurt in her voice. “Optimus….”

“Not Optimus,” he said, shaking his head. “Not Prime. Not anymore. I’m just Orion Pax now. The Matrix belongs to someone else now. It’s up to him to make things right.”

Windblade huffed, shifting her feet. “This isn’t like you. Usually you’re one of the first to spring into action, regardless of the odds. How is this—”

Orion spun on his heel, startling the red and black Camien. “Look at me, Windblade.” He gestured to his current body, smaller and less-armored than the one he had when he was Optimus Prime. “I’m no longer the warrior I once was. You can’t expect me to hold myself up in a fight.”

“You don’t need to fight,” Windblade replied. “We just need your guidance, your wisdom.”

“And what if my ‘wisdom’ isn’t good enough?” Orion countered. “What if Orion Pax is not as great as Optimus Prime was?”

“He is,” Windblade stressed. “You are. Because you will always be Optimus Prime to us, Matrix or not.”

“I understand that,” Orion said quietly. “But I can’t always be there to save the day. One day, I won’t be here at all. Even the strongest spark burns out someday. That’s why you and the others need to learn how to function without me. You should begin putting your faith in another leader rather than me.”

Windblade opened her mouth to protest further when a small light flashed on her wrist. With a frown, she raised a hand to her helm and answered the incoming call. “Windblade, here.”

Orion couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end but he saw Windblade’s face quickly twist with concern. “Cerebros? Why do you sound… slow down, I can’t….” Her optics dilated as her mouth fell slightly agape. “Hang on… did you just say combiners?”

*  *  *

Leo Prime was surrounded by mayhem.

As guards of uniform design rushed past his cell, the ground shook with devastating quakes. Alarms bathed the hallway outside with red as an urgent voice blared from the walls.

“We are under attack! This is not a drill! We are—”

A chorus of anguished screams broke out from the end of the hallway, accompanied by the sound of gunfire and metal shredding through metal. Just as the screams died out — in more ways than one, Leo figured — a white and blue bot charged down the corridor and screeched to a halt in front of Leo Prime’s cell.

“Are you a Decepticon?” he asked, reloading his large gun.

“No,” Leo Prime murmured.

“Sucks to be you then.” The Decepticon was about to press ahead when he stopped before the cell next to Leo Prime’s. “Whoa, hang on. What do we have here….”

Blasting the control panel, the Decepticon caused the cell’s ray shield to dissipate before raising a hand to his helmet. “Boss, this is Battletrap. I’ve got a stasis pod here on Level 4. It’s… really freaking big. Like, I didn’t even know stasis pods came in this size.”

“Ignore it, Battletrap,” a voice crackled through Battletrap’s comm, barely loud enough for Leo Prime to overhear. “We’re here for Liokaiser and Monstructor. Anything and anyone else is superfluous.”

“Right, got it.” With that, Battletrap departed from the cell and the sound of his footsteps receded from Leo Prime.

Curling his hands into fists, the former leader of the Maximals stormed up to the wall of his cell. Maybe, just maybe, if he hit it hard enough, it would cause the ray shield to short out. With chaos unfolding all around him, it was his only hope at getting out of here alive.

The first punch did little more than create a dent. A second punch only deepened that dent. Reeling back his other hand, he tried again then again. With one last, rage-filled strike, he heard the sound of something breaking before witnessing the ray shield evaporate before his optics. After removing shrapnel from his ravaged knuckles, Leo Prime stepped out of his cell and spared a few seconds to savor the freedom.

Looking to his left, he saw the remains of the guards Battletrap had killed piled up in front of the corridor entrance, blocking the path. Deciding it would be better to follow the Decepticon and see what he was up to, Leo Prime went in the opposite direction and breezed past the cell containing the large stasis pod, not stopping to so much as glance at it. Before he could get much further however, a large door slammed down in front of him, cutting him off from his quarry. Another fell behind him, leaving him caged between four walls.

“You’re not going anywhere,” a voice crackled from a speaker above him, no doubt belonging to the prison’s overseer Cerebros.

Leo Prime spread out his arms, knowing the warden could see him. “You realize that I am not the enemy here rather than the ones wearing purple badges.”

“For all I know, you very well could be,” Cerebros retorted. “How do I know these guys aren’t part of your network?”

“If that were the case, wouldn’t they have broken me out by now rather than letting me do so myself?”

Cerebros did not reply, though Leo soon realized that this was not because he was trying to think of a counterargument. An earthquake sent Leo Prime flying into the wall in front of him, hard enough to leave a dent vaguely shaped like himself. Another sent him falling back into the one behind him, though this time he was able to use his arms to lessen the impact.

As he stumbled back into the middle of his cage, Leo Prime heard Cerebros speak once more over the intercom, though it did not sound like he was addressing the former Maximal. “This is bad,” the Autobot murmured. “We can’t transform when there’s still people inside. What are we going to—”

A loud, metal thud came from beyond the back wall, in the direction from which Leo Prime had came. Cerebros abruptly went silent and at first Leo Prime thought the intercom had cut out. Then he heard a hissing sound as Cerebros began to speak in a deadly whisper.

“No. No, no, no, no.”

The last “no” was drowned out by something heavy being thrown against the wall. Seconds later, a blue glow enveloped the blast door before it completely vanished. In its place stood a massive robot in purple and gold armor, taking up the entire hallway as it loomed over Leo Prime. Clenched within its giant fist was a small stick sparkling with blue energy.

Leo Prime met the giant’s baleful gaze before diverting his optics to the wand it wielded. He then gave the monster a look of utter bafflement. “What purpose does that serve?”

Killmaster showed him by casting a spell from his wand and blasting the former Maximal with blue energy.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter Two

PROPOSALS

Impactor’s fist slammed hard onto the table, causing it to shake. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Sitting across from him, flanked by Star Saber and Primal Major, Elita-One affixed the former Wrecker leader with an unwavering expression. “No,” she said firmly. “Not until we’ve rescued Sari.”

Impactor scowled, simultaneously infuriated and confused by her resolve. “How can the life of one human be more important than thousands of Cybertronians?”

“I can’t believe we’re agreeing on something for once,” muttered Springer, standing next to Impactor.

“Sari is more than just a normal human,” Elita replied. “We strongly believe that she is Cybertronian as well.”

“Impossible. How can that—”

“You can ask Wheeljack; he’s the one who figured it all out. In any case, we can’t just leave her in the hands of the Decepticons. It would go against everything we Autobots stand for.”

“That’s great and all, but out there is a massive swarm of Noisemazes — which, need I remind you, we dealt with during the last crisis — that’s gearing up for something big, whether it be another invasion or Primus knows what.” Impactor frowned at the three bots standing in front of him. “I shouldn’t be the one who has to tell you that something needs to be done.”

“I’m well aware of the threat at hand,” Elita calmly stated. “But until we have a clear idea of what that threat is, we must focus on the most pressing and obvious matters, which is to rescue Sari.”

“And Skids,” Star Saber added quietly.

Impactor grimaced as he looked between the two leaders, realizing that he would not be getting through to them. Shifting his attention to Primal, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the Maximal leader.

“Look, every minute we spend arguing is another minute we lose doing whatever needs to be done. You want to deal with the Noisemazes? Fine. Get your Wreckers and deal with them.” He then turned to Elita. “You want to rescue Sari? Fine. Gather a team and rescue her.”

Elita frowned at him. “It’s not that simple, Primal.”

“Of course it isn’t. When has it ever been? But unless we stop bickering and actually act, nothing is going to get done.”

“He has a point,” Star Saber said. “Sari and Skids are counting on us.”

“We have a Titan,” Springer pointed out. “Plus a whole bunch of Autobots from Star Saber and Thunderclash’s crews. I don’t think even Scorponok can match that.”

Star Saber nodded in agreement. “Once everyone’s recovered, I’m sure they’ll be more than ready to take on whatever Scorponok’s got waiting for us. Besides, after surviving the Destructons and Dire Wraiths, what could he have in store that tops either of those things?”

“More Destructons and Dire Wraiths?” Impactor said pointedly.

“Very possible. But we’ve survived worse, haven’t we?”

Elita looked from one Autobot to the other, seeing no hints of objection in any of them. Realizing that she could think of no better alternative to what they were proposing, she nodded in resignation. “Very well then. I’ll have Metroplex set scanners out for Sari’s spark signature — assuming she has one — as well as any Decepticons that may be holding her captive. After that… we give them hell.”

Impactor grunted with acceptance. “I suppose that’s as good a compromise as any.”

Springer smirked at him. “What, you’re only fine with rescuing humans as long as it means kicking ass?”

“Old habits die hard, kid….”

*  *  *

“Jazz. Jazz. Jazz.”

Jazz groaned, pistons creaking as he moved his head for the first time in who-knows-how-long. His arm joints felt stiff which probably had to do with the fact that they were pinned over his head on the wall he was hanging from. Directly across from him in the old, dingy cell was a small red bot in the exact same position.

“Jazz,” Cliffjumper repeated.

“I heard you the first time, man,” Jazz mumbled, stretching his neck struts from one side to the other.

“No you didn’t. I’ve been saying your name for the past five minutes. You’ve been out of it ever since I got back.”

“Got back?”

“They’ve started doing experiments on us,” Cliffjumper grunted. “They brought me out to see if I was ‘viable’ enough, but apparently I was too small for them. They’ve got Mirage now after tossing me back in.”

“Mirage?” Jazz looked over to the third wall between them, seeing the empty chains dangling from the brick surface. “Scrap.”

“I’ll say. I don’t know how we’re gonna get out of this mess.”

“C’mon, Cliff’. This is nothing compared to some of the things we’ve been through. After Simanzi, Thunderwing, and Unicron, what can these Decepticon thugs throw at us?”

“Well, they’ve got something out there,” Cliffjumper replied. “Something they call the Talisman. It was what they were planning to use on me before they—”

Jazz suddenly shushed him as he heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside their cell. The metal door swung open and a blue and white bot was thrown in, landing face-first onto the dirt-trodden floor. As Mirage struggled to get back up, a blue and black Decepticon stormed in and slammed his foot onto the Autobot’s back, pushing him back down.

“Worthless,” Dropkick muttered as he pulled out a fresh set of chains. “I swear, if not one of you is what the boss is looking for—”

“Hey, Dropkick!” Jazz exclaimed, startling the ‘Con. “I thought I recognized your ugly mug. Long time no see, huh?”

Dropkick glared at him as he began to tie the chains around Mirage’s arms. “I’m not in a mood for conversation, Autobot. Save your screams for later.”

“Oh, does that mean I’m next?” Jazz flashed a cheeky grin, ignoring the confused look Cliffjumper was giving him. “I’m flattered. To whom do I owe this honor?”

“You’ll be seeing him shortly enough.” After hanging Mirage back onto the wall, Dropkick moved over to Jazz and sawed a blade through his chains. As Jazz dropped down, Dropkick quickly slapped a pair of stasis cuffs over his wrists before he could make a move.

As the Decepticon began to drag him out of the cell, Jazz looked over his shoulder at Mirage, whose armor plating was covered in dents and scratches. “My friends aren’t good enough for him?” he said to Dropkick.

“You can ask him yourself,” Dropkick muttered as he closed the cell door behind them, shutting Jazz off from the other two Autobots.

The Decepticon proceeded to lead Jazz through a winding maze of corridors and hallways. Jazz wasn’t quite sure what exactly this place was nor did he know how and why it was large enough to fit Cybertronians. Knowing that Dropkick would not be receptive to any questions he had, he instead kept quiet and memorized the path leading back to the cell. Eventually, they reached a massive, wide chamber where several of Dropkick’s fellow Decepticons were gathered. At the very back of the room was a large, six-angled monolith with a purple orb in its bottom center, radiating with energy. Distracted by the mysterious artifact, Jazz almost didn’t notice the bot in charge of it all until they lumbered into his line of sight.

“Scorponok,” he muttered, glaring up at the purple and green Decepticon.

Scorponok grinned widely at him. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. But I’m afraid we don’t have time for such trivial things.”

He made a gesture with his giant claw and a red Decepticon came forward to take Jazz from Dropkick. Dragging him towards the obelisk, she pushed him down onto his knees while another Decepticon came forward with a claw-like device and attached it to Jazz’s chest. Jazz felt a distinct feeling of discomfort run through his body while the Decepticon stared at the readings being displayed on the device.

“Well, Banzai-Tron,” Scorponok said to the gray, red, and green ‘Con. “Is he our lucky candidate?”

“V-negative spark-type,” Banzai-Tron reported back. “Definitely forged. At least 1,984 years old, give or take.”

“The heck is this all about?” Jazz asked. “You guys picking and choosing who you get to torture now?”

“Quiet!” Dropkick snapped, striking the Autobot in the back of his helmet.

Ignoring the exchange, Banzai-Tron said to Scorponok, “I’m afraid he is not viable for testing purposes. His composition is too… basic. Standard. The probability of him surviving the operations are incredibly slim.”

“A pity,” Scorponok said morosely. “I had been hoping to get some use out of them. The Talisman’s abilities are sure to be limitless yet they are wasted by what the Grand Architect has planned for it.”

“Undoubtedly,” said Banzai-Tron, though he did not sound as disappointed as Scorponok. “What shall we do with the Autobots, then?”

Scorponok waved a dismissive claw. “Dispose of them. Perhaps we can use their parts for salvaging purposes. We wouldn’t want them to be a complete waste.”

Jazz tensed as Dropkick placed a hand on his shoulder. Before he could think of how to act, the red female Decepticon suddenly spoke up.

“Wait. I have an idea.”

Both Scorponok and Banzai-Tron turned to look at her, the former looking more intrigued than the latter. “Speak, Shatter.”

“The Autobots here on Earth are in possession of a Titan,” Shatter went on. “A potential obstacle to our plans… unless we use the Talisman on it.”

At this, Scorponok’s face brightened. “I’m already liking where your head’s at.”

“And just how, pray tell, do we get our hands on such a Titan?” asked Banzai-Tron.

“Simple.” Shatter ran a clawed hand across the side of Jazz’s face, making him cringe. “We already have our bait.”

From the Archives: Star Wars Knights of the Republic: A Destiny Prequel

This is a story I wrote for my Destiny Saga way back in 2011, detailing the life of Darth Vorath when he was the Jedi Kalon Soral. Most of it is no longer canon to my series, though elements still remain (such as Kalon being a Revanchist). I've decided to finally post it here for prosperity's sake.

Also, because it was written eight years ago, the prose in this isn't exactly up to par with my current writing skills. Not that I think it's bad, just... obviously eight years old.

CHAPTER ONE

--Sukil, Deza system, Outer Rim Territories--

    Soldiers clad in red and black uniforms marched through the green fields of Sukil. Leading them was a Jedi Knight, brown robes overlapping custom-made armor. In his hand was the silver hilt of a lightsaber, ready to ignite if the enemy was to come into view.

    Kalon halted the soldiers. He could sense something, or someone, was nearby. 

    He ignited his blue lightsaber just as a Mandalorian clad in red armor zoomed towards them on a swoop bike. The Jedi swung his saber and sliced the swoop bike in half. The Mandalorian leaped off and aimed his blaster at Kalon. With one flick of the wrist, the blaster flew out of the Mandalorian's hand as what felt like an invisible hand pushed him away.

    At that moment, dozens of Mandalorians attacked. Many fell, with only Kalon and three soldiers left, cornered by the Mandalorians. The lead Mandalorian, wearing blue and black, ordered his troops to cease fire.

    "Well," the leader said. "Quite unimpressive. You're one of those 'Jedi Crusaders,' aren't you?"

    "Yes," Kalon said, deactivating his lightsaber. "What is it to you?"

    "Oh, no reason," said the Mandalorian. "Just seems like your group are the only Jedi daring to face us. But no matter." The other Mandalorians raised their blasters. "You'll still die."

    Suddenly, a purple-bladed lightsaber flew from the sky and stabbed one of the Mandalorians. The lead trooper turned around to see a black-haired Jedi, flanked by many Republic soldiers.

    "Gee, Kalon." The Jedi smirked. "I can't seem to leave you alone, can I?"

    "Very funny, Voren," Kalon sighed. "Can you lend me a--"

    "Silence, Jedi!" shouted the lead Mandalorian, aiming his blaster at Kalon. He turned to Voren. "You really think you can beat my soldiers? Do you?!"

    Voren grinned as his lightsaber flew back into his hand. "Actually... yes. Yes, I do."

*  *  *

    The Star Light flew through the blaster fire over the world of Sukil. The Vurk admiral known as Dral Chaar oversaw the wildfire from his place on the bridge. The Valiant and the Veltraa had surrounded the Mandalorians' flagship, the Jetiise Arv'e.

    Dral activated his comlink. "Captain Averre, this is Admiral Chaar!"

    "Captain Averre reporting, sir," said a voice on the other end. "What is it?"

    "Do not, I repeat, do not attack the Mandalorian ship until I give the order." Dral's holo projector began to buzz. He switched it on to see the masked visage of a Mandalorian captain.

    "Admiral Chaar. I am Kian, captain of this ship. I wish to request that you cease fire. I believe we can negotiate a truce."

    Dral scowled at the hologram of Kian. "It's too late for that, Mandalorian. Much too late." He turned off the project and turned to the ship's captain, Saul Karath. "Open fire."

*  *  *

    The Mandalorian leader staggered back, clutching his right upper arm in pain as his forearm was gone.

    "Canderous," he coughed to a silver-armored Mandalorian. "Contact Captain Kian. Tell him we must fall back to Dxun."

    "Understood, Commander Siro," Canderous said as he and the other Mandalorians took off. Siro glanced at Kalon and Voren one last time before leaving as well.

    Voren smirked. "Well, if Admiral Chaar has everything else handled, we might as well head back to Coruscant."

    "As long as Revan doesn't send us to another planet," Kalon said. "I'm just about tired of this war."

    "Everyone is," said Voren. "I bet soon even the Mandalorians will be, too. But for now, let's go home."

    "Yeah." Kalon looked upon the dead soldiers. "Let's."

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter One

SPIDER'S GAME

Long, spindly legs carried the large black widow as it navigated its way through the wilderness. Night always provided it with the best cover; when it was light out, humans liked to wander into these parts for one reason or another and the sight of a larger-than-life spider would surely cause a commotion that Blackarachnia had no desire to deal with. Even back on Eukaris, she had always preferred the isolation that the darkness provided her whenever she roamed through the jungles. The silence, the nothingness… it was greatly preferable to the headache she always felt when dealing with other sentients.

Unfortunately, she had little choice in the latter regard. Ever since the incident back in Verenya, she had been stuck with the other Predacons as they traveled aimlessly across the dirtball of a planet they had come to. With Gnashteeth gone, Dinobot had taken on the role of leader though she very much doubt that even he knew where they were going. They couldn’t stay in Verenya of course, lest they suffer whatever fate that Gnashteeth had been given by the Talisman, and especially since a team of Decepticons had just established their own base of operations there. Yet Dinobot insisted on staying on Earth so they could recuperate and eventually take back the Talisman. When that would be and how they would accomplish such a feat, Blackarachnia had no idea. She didn’t think anyone did.

Their most recent stop had been upon the insistence of her fellow spider Tarantulas. As far as Blackarachnia could tell there was nothing of strategic value in this particular location, yet Tarantulas had insisted that there was something here he needed to do. As soon as the Darksyde had touched down, Tarantulas had stole away into the wilderness, taking a large cocoon made of webbing with him. While the other Predacons were content with letting the scientist do his own thing — Dinobot saw it as a useful opportunity to devise a plan — Blackarachnia couldn’t help but be intrigued by what Tarantulas was up to. Evidently, he didn’t want the others to know as he did not elaborate when asked to by Dinobot and had been overtly hasty in his departure. Naturally, this made it Blackarachnia’s number one objective to find out exactly what his little scheme was.

Locating Tarantulas was no difficult feat. Strands of webbing had fallen off from the cocoon he had taken with him and provided Blackarachnia with a trail for her to follow. After using them to find her way through the forest, she came into a clearing where she found Tarantulas standing in the middle of a field in his robot mode. Splayed out before him on a bed of webbing was what — no, who the cocoon had contained: the Autobot known as Centurion. Tarantulas stood over the yellow bot’s offline form, prodding him with tools and examining him closely with a keen interest Blackarachnia had never seen him have before. He reminded her of Airachnid, something which was hardly a compliment in her mind.

Converting to her robot mode, Blackarachnia made a show of sauntering out into the clearing to attract Tarantulas’ attention. The scientist noticed her, but other than a quick glare he paid her no further heed as he returned to his examination.

Casting a disinterested look at the comatose Centurion, Blackarachnia said, “Dare I ask what it is you’re doing here?”

“You would not understand,” Tarantulas hissed, poking at the Autobot’s armor with a scalpel. “Your mind is too simplistic to grasp what is at stake.”

“Try me.”

Tarantulas stopped for only a moment to glance at her before returning to work. “You were an Autobot, weren’t you?”

Blackarachnia stiffened, her face twisting with disgust at the mere sound of the word. “Why do you say that?”

“Your reaction just now, for one thing. Also, back when we were fighting against the Autobots, you seemed to have been… holding back.”

Blackarachnia sneered. “I never hold back.”

“Perhaps not. Or perhaps you simply have nothing to hold back. You don’t seem to share the same level of bloodlust as Terrorsaur or some of the others.”

“Are you through with your psychoanalysis, creep?”

Tarantulas cackled, his attention still on Centurion. “Tell me about yourself, Blackarachnia. How did you come to be a Predacon?”

“Why should I?” she hissed.

“If you tell me your story, I will tell you what I’m doing here — not that you would understand any of it.”

Blackarachnia scowled but grudgingly realized that taking up Tarantulas on his deal was her best bet at satiating her curiosity. With a resigned sigh, she began. “I used to be called Elita-Six.”

“Ah.” At this, Tarantulas finally lifted his head up at her. “A member of the House of Elita, I take it?”

“Not anymore,” Blackarachnia said bitterly. “They abandoned me on Archa Seven when we were investigating the remains of the Twilight.”

“The Twilight, you say?” Tarantulas tapped his chin. “I believe that was shot down over Archa Seven not long before the war’s end. Cycle 9598, I believe.”

Blackarachnia shrugged dismissively. “Whenever. It was twenty years ago when my squad and I went there to explore the remains of the ship. We were attacked by the native arachnids and I was separated from the rest of my team.” Her optics flashed as she snapped her pincer-hands together. “They did nothing to save me. They just turned and ran.”

“Typical cowardly behavior,” Tarantulas lamented, though Blackarachnia doubted the sympathy in his voice was sincere. “How did you manage to escape?”

“I didn’t,” Blackarachnia said quietly. “I would have died if someone hadn’t rescued me. That someone then took me under her wing and promised me a life better than the one I had. Of course, she gave me anything but….”

Tarantulas stared at her expectantly as she trailed off. However, rather than give him the satisfaction of saying anymore than she needed to, Blackarachnia instead crossed her arms and inclined her head to the other spider. “Right then. Your turn.”

Suddenly giddy with excitement, Tarantulas released a manic cackle from his vocal processor. “I believe our little Autobot friend here is a time traveler.”

Blackarachnia stared at him blankly. Tarantulas hadn’t been kidding when he had said it would be difficult for her to grasp. “What?”

“I have been analyzing his entire composition — armor plating, innermost energon, even his transformation cog — and have made the discovery that all of it is well over twenty thousand years old! Well beyond the age of even the oldest known Cybertronian!”

“So? Maybe he just is that old.”

“Ah, you would think so, wouldn’t you? However, I detected traces of chronal energy surrounding his spark signature — traces which are nearly identical to those I detected when the Talisman activated and enveloped our leader!”

Blackarachnia let out an exasperated sigh, beginning to regret having started this conversation. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that our friend here must have been sent back in time by the Talisman,” Tarantulas replied, swinging back to look at Centurion. “I’m still not sure as to how and why, but it is the most logical conclusion I can deduce.”

Tarantulas must have had a different definition for “logical” than Blackarachnia had. Still, despite herself, she still found herself asking questions even though she knew the answers would not clear anything up. “So why is this so interesting to you?”

“Because it means a number of things!” Tarantulas replied. “For one, it means that Gnashteeth could still be out there, trapped in a different time. He could still be among us as we speak, having bide his time for stars know how long. It also means….”

At this, Tarantulas suddenly went quiet. Hunching himself over, he tapped his fingers together nervously as his optics darted from one side to another, even though there was no one else around but Blackarachnia and the dormant Centurion.

Blackarachnia huffed with impatience. “Well? What else does it mean?”

“They are sure to be listening in on us as we speak,” the other spider muttered, more to himself than to Blackarachnia. Retracting his tools, he turned back to Centurion and began wrapping up the Autobots into a cocoon once more. When he was done, he swiveled to face Blackarachnia and narrowed his visor at her.

“Do not speak a word of this to anyone,” he whispered in a deadly tone.

Blackarachnia had no choice but to take that as an incentive to do the complete opposite. Nonetheless, she hid her thoughts with a dismissive sneer. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Satisfied with that response, Tarantulas converted to his spider mode and began to drag the wrapped-up Centurion back into the forest. Blackarachnia waited for him to leave before transforming as well and proceeding in his direction. As much as she detested her fellow Predacon — perhaps moreso than any of the others — she could not help but find him the most interesting thing in the universe at the moment. If anything, she was going to consider the time dedicated towards solving Tarantulas and his schemes well spent rather than wasted.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Prologue

PROLOGUE

“All of you need to listen very closely to what I have to say if you want to save the universe.”

A dead silence filled the room at this. Impactor did not move from where he stood, keeping his harpoon pressed against Archforce’s head. Behind him, Punch, Fractyl, and Packrat exchanged uneasy looks, unsure of how things were about to go down. Still strapped to the operating table, Sandstorm wasn’t able to make much of anything since he wasn’t able to see any of it, though the silence was telling enough for him. All the while, Plasma simply stared at them with no variation to her inexpressive face, as if she had no care at all as to what was going to happen.

A few minutes passed before Impactor finally shattered the silence, impatience prominent in his voice. “Well? We’re waiting.”

“Let go of the clone,” Prowl’s voice commanded. “There’s no need for violence.”

“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you claim you do,” Impactor growled. “Start talking, Prowl, or the clone really will get it.”

“Mother,” Archforce murmured, directing his confused optics towards Plasma. “What’s going on?”

Plasma said nothing to the Megatron clone, keeping her attention focused on the irate bot keeping him hostage. In a calm, passive voice, she said, “I would do as he says. Not much will be accomplished by doing the opposite.”

Impactor wasn’t sure at first whether Plasma was speaking to him or Prowl until the latter spoke up. “Not much will be accomplished with a needless standoff, either. Any petty grudges you hold are insignificant compared to what is at stake.”

“Maybe if you told us what was at stake instead of giving us your cryptic crap, I would consider doing as you say,” Impactor retorted.

“I’m not even convinced this is the real ‘Prowl,’” muttered Punch. “The real Prowl was killed just before Thunderwing’s forces attacked Autobot City. How can he be here and… alive?”

“I mean….” Fractyl glanced furtively at Impactor. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but resurrections have been all the rage lately.”

“I assure you that I am the Prowl you all know,” the disembodied voice responded.

“Prove it,” Impactor growled.

The silent hesitation preceding Prowl’s response felt as heavy as a dead weight. “Pardon?”

“Prove that you’re the real Prowl. Tell me something that only the real Prowl would know.”

After a fleeting yet telling moment of silence, Prowl said, “I know the truth about what happened at Pova. You didn’t beat them in valiant combat; you slaughtered them when they were unarmed and defenseless, after I had already ordered you to release them from captivity.”

Impactor scoffed. “Is that all you can come up with? Anyone who wasn’t a bright-eyed, naive novice would be able to connect the dots if they knew enough about me. No, you need to tell me something that only you would know. Not Prime, not Springer, not anyone in High Command. Something only the two of us would know.”

“We have a long history, Impactor.” Any hint of cordiality that had been in Prowl’s voice was now completely absent. “You would have to narrow it down.”

“Fine, how’s this for narrow? Arc 1-27 of Cycle 8818. Mesothulas’ lab. You wanted one of us to kill Ostaros. Who ended up pulling the trigger?”

Again, the subsequent silence weighed down on the room. Behind Impactor, furtive glances were passed between the other Wreckers. Even Archforce looked perplexed, keeping his gaze locked on Plasma who remained as stoic and motionless as ever. He winced as the sharp end of Impactor’s end scraped against the side of his helmet. He was too nervous to realize that the infamous leader of the Wreckers was shaking, if ever so slightly.

After what had felt like an eternity, the one who claimed to be Prowl finally answered. “You did, of course. Just like the savage brute you are.”

“Wrong.” With a click, Impactor’s harpoon launched from his arm. In that split-second, Archforce shifted his body enough so that the harpoon zipped right past his head. He then took advantage of Impactor’s momentary confusion to strike the Wrecker in the chest with his elbow, sending his former captor staggering back.

Deploying his arm cannon, Archforce swung around to take aim at Impactor only to find himself staring down the barrels of Punch, Fractyl, and Packrat as well. Although he did not fire, Archforce kept his weapon trained on Impactor, his face now devoid of any emotion.

“Now that the tables have turned,” the Megatron clone said, “perhaps we can have a more… peaceful exchange.”

Impactor scowled as he retracted the harpoon back into his arm. “We still outnumber you. I’d hardly call the tables ‘turned.’”

“I’m sorry,” Plasma spoke up. “What was it you were saying about numbers?”

The Wreckers looked confused at first only to then turn around and see the other Megatron clones — Megastorm and Megaplex — standing outside the chamber, having recovered from their earlier encounter. Behind them was a horde of silver bots with a uniform design. From their horns and visor-covered faces, they were a dead-match for the Terrorbots that they had encountered on Luna 1 during the conflict against Thunderwing.

Impactor regarded the reinforcements with a passive expression before redirecting his attention to Plasma. “I stand corrected. So, is this the part where you bore us to death with a lengthy explanation of your evil plan?”

“Seeing as how we’ve failed to trick you into joining us as I had hoped, I really see no point in keeping any of you around,” Plasma replied. “Kill them.”

As one, the Terrorbots and the Megatron clones opened fire. Moving quickly to avoid the plasma bolts, Impactor got over to the operating table Sandstorm was on and cut through the latter’s restraints with his harpoon. Once freed, Sandstorm converted to his helicopter form and flew into the horde, shooting many of their numbers down. Both Megaplex and Megastorm jumped aside to avoid Sandstorm as he plowed his way through the Terrorbots, creating a path for the other Wreckers. Impactor and the others wasted no time as they transformed and took off, dodging any blaster shots that came their way.

“After them!” Impactor could hear Archforce bark, though for some reason neither the Terrorbots nor the clones took pursuit.

As they turned the corner, Punch pointed out, “We still need to find Toxitron.”

“Have Packrat sniff him out,” Impactor replied. “His odor isn’t that hard to miss.”

Clinging onto Punch’s roof, Packrat lifted up his rodent head and sniffed the air. After a couple of whiffs, the blue rat said, “Left hall, third door on the right.”

The Wreckers followed these directions and eventually came upon a locked door. Converting to his robot mode, Fractyl approached the door and hacked into its main control panel. His history with the Secret Order and time spend aboard the Mothership gave him a better understanding of the vessel’s inner workings than any of the other Wreckers. In no more than a minute, the door was open and the Wreckers came face to face with their comrade Toxitron, strapped to an operating table and surrounded by two more Terrorbots. Before either of the silver bots had a chance to react, Punch gunned one of them down while Impactor dispatched the other with his harpoon. Packrat then moved over to Toxitron and freed him from his restraints, wearing a nauseated expression as he did.

“Ya’ know, the least these guys could’ve done was give you a nice wash down or somethin’,” the Maximal remarked.

“Save it,” Impactor grunted. “Fractyl, does this place have a space bridge?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” the geochemist replied. “It’s sure to be heavily fortified though, especially at this point.”

“So?”

“So….” Fractyl sighed as he remembered who he was talking to. “So we’re gonna have a lot of afts to kick.”

“Fine by me,” rumbled Toxitron as he rose to his feet. He stumbled slightly as he took a step forward, prompting Sandstorm to move over to support him.

“Easy there,” the Triple Changer said. “You sure you’re ready for a fight?”

“Of course I am,” Toxitron muttered, though he did not sound as certain as his words suggested. “I’m always ready.”

Impactor couldn’t help but find that statement dubious. Nonetheless, he pushed such doubts aside as he changed back into his alt mode. “Lead the way, Fractyl.”

The Decepticon jet led his fellow Wreckers back down the hall and navigated them through a maze of hallways and corridors, encountering no resistance along the way. Upon reaching the door which led to the Mothership’s space bridge chamber, Impactor could hear the march of footsteps coming from behind them.

“They sure took their sweet time, didn’t they?” Punch remarked.

Impactor grimaced as he watched Fractyl hack into the door’s control panel. The footsteps were coming closer and the green flier was not making any progress. His patience at its end, Impactor shoved Fractyl aside before stabbing the console with his harpoon. At once, the door slid open and the Wreckers all rushed inside. From behind them, one of the approaching Noisemaze units raised its left arm and fired its arm cannon. The blast hit Fractyl in the back just as he entered and the Decepticon jet fell to the ground with a cry.

Spinning around on his heel, Sandstorm fired back at the Noisemazes while Punch rushed over to recover Fractyl. Already at the space bridge, Impactor accessed its control console and scanned the monitor for the nearest terminal. To his surprise, there was one just over two light years away from where they were, located in the same solar system. Not wasting any time to dwell on this, Impactor punched in the coordinates and activated the space bridge. As the blue portal opened, Impactor turned and hollered to the other Wreckers.

Punch was the first to reach the space bridge, carrying Fractyl in his arms. Packrat quickly hopped onto Toxitron’s shoulders as the Optimus clone followed suit, both of them providing cover fire as they charged into the portal. As Impactor and Sandstorm neared the terminal, one of the Noisemazes drew a double-bladed sword and lunged at Impactor, delivering a slice to his side. As the veteran Wrecker cried out in pain, Sandstorm bashed his gun into the Noisemaze’s head before firing it, obliterating the Terrorbot’s cranial unit. Undeterred, the drones continued to swarm in on the two Wreckers, pushing them back into the space bridge. With nowhere else to turn, the pair had no choice but to run into the portal. As the Noisemazes took pursuit, Sandstorm continued to fire back at them, keeping them at bay as best as he could.

Impactor had no idea how long they had been running by the time he spotted something at the end of the portal. Energon continued to leak from his wound, forcing him to rely on sheer willpower so as to not slow his pace. Punch and the others were already through while Sandstorm had gotten ahead of him already. Without looking back to see how close the Terrorbots were, Impactor pushed Sandstorm out of the portal as he lunged forward, firing his harpoon as soon as he saw the terminal’s control panel, narrowly missing a large green bot. The panel sparked as it shorted out and the space bridge portal immediately dissipated behind him, cutting them off from the Terrorbots. Impactor spared a second to take in his surroundings; upon realizing that they were in Metroplex, he allowed himself to collapse to the floor, still clutching his wound. In his peripheral vision, he spotted a familiar green and yellow bot step up to him, arms folded over his chest.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, old timer,” Springer said in a low tone.

“Thanks for the reminder, kid,” Impactor grunted back. “Do you want me to start before or after I came back from the dead?”

What Springer did next was, in Impactor’s honest opinion, the most shocking thing that had ever happened to him since he had been resurrected.

He offered him his hand.

Impactor looked from the proffered hand to its owner and saw, for the first time in centuries, the ghost of the cocky smirk he had always associated with his successor. It was as if Pova and everything that happened after that point had never happened and they were still brothers-in-arms to the last. Just like the good old days. Like it should have always been.

Getting over his surprise, Impactor accepted the hand and allowed Springer to help him to his feet. While the other Wreckers started chatting amongst themselves, Impactor’s mind went back to what they had just escaped from and turned back to Springer with a serious look.

“Who’s in charge here?”

“I am, along with Elita-One and Star Saber.” Springer frowned as he noticed the cloud in Impactor’s expression. “Why? What’s happened?”

“It’s not what’s happened but what’s happening right now,” Impactor replied. “We need to get to Cybertron asap; I’m not one for exaggeration, so believe me when I say that the entire universe is in danger.”

He did not know any of this for a hundred percent fact… but if the sight of those Terrorbots — a threat that had become recurring in the past year or so — meant anything to him, it was that someone somewhere was plotting something. And with over a thousand years of such situations under his belt, Impactor knew that it was not going to be anything good.

CONVERGENCE

Part 4: Divided We Fall

Star Wars Destiny Chronicles: Jedi Archives -- Battlemasters of the Jedi Order

BATTLEMASTERS OF THE JEDI ORDER

    The Jedi Battlemaster serves as the chief lightsaber instructor of the Jedi Order, overseeing all lightsaber training at the Jedi Temple. While individual academies have been known to have their own Battlemaster, there is typically only one Battlemaster at a time that oversees all others. During the days of the Old Republic, the Battlemaster also served as something of a military leader during the Sith Wars and often coordinated with the Minister of Defense.

Kao Cen Darach (-3681 BBY)

    A formidable Zabrak warrior, Kao Cen Darach was controversial in the eyes of some for his staunch opposition to the dark side of the Force, something which upset the Jedi Order's political position on Coruscant. Shortly before the Great Galactic War, he took on the young Satele Shan as his Padawan learner, a suitable fit for her prowess in battle meditation. In 4296 C.R.C., Master Darach and Satele were stationed over the Sith world of Korriban when it was attacked by the Sith Empire. The two Jedi dueled with the Sith Lord Vindican and his apprentice Malgus, the latter who delivered the fatal blow to the Zabrak Jedi Master. Meanwhile, Satele managed to escape to the Republic and went on to become Grand Master of the Jedi Order thirty years later.

Jun Seros (-3641 BBY)

    Deeply committed to the Order and the Republic, Battlemaster Jun Seros acted as a general in the Republic military, liberating such worlds as Toola from the clutches of the Sith Empire. After the Treaty of Coruscant, Master Seros came to serve as an aide to Supreme Chancellor Janarus and protected him from a bounty hunter hired by Darth Tormen to assassinate Janarus. Despite Seros' great skill, he was eventually killed by the Hunter. However, his legacy lived on among the Whiphid natives of Toola and his name became immortalized in their folklore. Many Whiphid were named after the Battlemaster, including an operative of the Rebel Alliance who owned a cantina on Tatooine.

Larisa (3638 BBY-)

    A human-Sephi hybrid from Deralia, Larisa made a name for herself among the Jedi when she destroyed the Sith Emperor's body on Dromund Kaas in 4336 C.R.C. After defeating the Revanite cult, she was promoted to the rank of Battlemaster and went on to play a prominent role in the war against the Eternal Empire.

Dion Sazon (-3452 BBY)

    A strong Pau'an warrior from Utapau, Dion Sazon's incredible talent in lightsaber combat saw him quickly rise to the rank of Battlemaster. However, he was greatly tempted by the teachings of the dark side and delved into the Jedi Temple's archive of Sith history against the wishes of his peers. When he refuse to cease his studies, the Jedi Council expelled him from the Order. Infuriated, Sazon embraced the dark side and became the Sith Lord Darth Desolous, waging a three-year long war against the Republic.

Hahkann (3452 BBY-)

    A member of the Jedi Council as well as a former student of Master Sazon, Hahkann was promoted the rank of Battlemaster following Sazon's expulsion. The powerful Dowutin fought against his former master during the Battle of Yaga Minor and was one of only a handful of surviving Masters after the Sith Lord had been vanquished.

Lord Hoth (-1010 BBY)

   Born Rohlan of Kaal, the Jedi Lord Hoth was a key figure during the final years of the New Sith Wars. When the fallen Jedi Skere Kaan united the fragmented Sith and formed the Brotherhood of Darkness, Hoth left the Jedi Temple to form the Army of Light and wage his own personal campaign against Lord Kaan and his Brotherhood. After ten years of fighting, Lord Hoth met his end when Kaan unleashed a thought bomb which wiped out Jedi and Sith alike, ending the Sith Wars.

Skarch Vaunk (fl. 990 BBY)

    In the wake of the New Sith Wars, the Anx Jedi Master Skarch Vaunk rose to the rank of Battlemaster, holding her students to very high standards.

Cin Drallig (-19 BBY)

    A human male from Lavisar, Cin Dralig was the last Battlemaster of the Old Jedi Order, training countless students -- among them Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. When Skywalker fell to the dark side and led an attack on the Jedi Temple, Drallig and his apprentice Serra Keto engaged the newly christened Darth Vader in combat, though both were summarily slain by the Sith Lord.

Morin Tharr (10-27 ABY)

    A survivor of the Great Jedi Purge, Morin Tharr was found on Zegris shortly after the founding of the New Jedi Order and agreed to serve on the reestablished Jedi Council, acting as the first Battlemaster for a new generation. During the Imperial Sith War, Master Tharr was often seen on the front-lines leading Jedi Knights into battle. After the war, Tharr stepped down from the Council and later became one with the Force, having lived a long and fruitful life. 

Kyle Katarn (27 ABY-)

    The current Battlemaster of the Jedi Order, Kyle Katarn was once a soldier in the Imperial Army before joining the Rebel Alliance and eventually becoming an early student of the New Jedi Order. After demonstrating formidable skill in the war against the Imperial Sith, Katarn was nominated by Master Tharr to succeed him as Battlemaster and was unanimously promoted by the Jedi Council.

AUTHOR FOOTNOTES

    -Kao Cen Darach originates from the "Return" cinematic trailer for the multi-player role-playing game The Old Republic. 

    -Jun Seros also originates from The Old Republic. He shares a name with a Whiphid rebel from the Rebellion Era Sourcebook, which is coincidental both in and out-of-universe. However, I decided to make a connection between the two by having Jun Seros be something of a folk hero among the primitive Whiphid.

    -Larisa is an original character designed for the Jedi Knight class story in The Old Republic (should I ever play the game).

    -Dion Sazon, aka Darth Desolous, originates from the video game The Force Unleashed (exclusively on the Wii and PSP versions). His pre-Darth name as well as his status as a Battlemaster is original to my fan-fiction, though the latter is inferred from him being a "fierce warrior" canonically.

    -Hahkann is an original character created for this piece. His name is based on Hakann, a character from the Bionicle toyline.

    -Skarch Vaunk originates from the guide book The Jedi Path by Daniel Wallace.

    -Cin Drallig appears in Episode III Revenge of the Sith.

    -Morin Tharr is an original character who featured prominently in my early Destiny stories.

    -Kyle Katarn originates from the Dark Forces video game series.

Star Wars Destiny Chronicles: Jedi Archives -- Dynasties of the Force

FORCE DYNASTIES

    Though rare, there have been known to be long-lasting Force-sensitive bloodlines throughout the history of the Jedi Order. Because romance and relationships were often forbidden by the Jedi Code (perhaps to discourage such bloodlines from existing), there have only been a handful of "Jedi dynasties" known to have existed in the Jedi Order's 25,000 years of existence. However, it cannot be denied that these bloodlines have had a lasting impact on the Order and even the galaxy at large.

The Skywalkers

    The most recent and, arguably, most well-known Jedi bloodline is that of the Skywalkers. While his mother Shmi was not known to be Force-sensitive, Anakin Skywalker went on to become a powerful Jedi Knight (as well as a Sith Lord) and turn out to be the prophesied Chosen One of Jedi legend when he killed Darth Sidious in 7981 C.R.C. His legacy was continued by twins Luke and Leia and flourishes today through Leia's children with Han Solo.

Notable members:

    Shmi Skywalker (7905-7955), the mother of Anakin Skywalker. Sold into slavery at a young age, she was believed to have been impregnated by the Force in response to the growing power of the Sith. After Anakin was taken into the Jedi Order by Qui-Gon Jinn, Shmi remained in the service of the Toydarian Watto before being freed by moisture farmer Cliegg Lars, whom she later married. She was later captured and mortally wounded by the Tusken Raiders, dying in her son's arms.

    Anakin Skywalker (7936-7981), the son of Shmi Skywalker. After being freed from slavery by Qui-Gon Jinn, he was trained in the ways of the Force by Obi-Wan Kenobi before becoming a Jedi Knight at the start of the Clone Wars. Plagued by the fear of his wife Padme Amidala dying, Anakin turned to Darth Sidious for tutelage and became the Sith Lord Darth Vader, bringing about the fall of the Jedi Order. A fateful encounter with Kenobi left Vader encased in a suit of armor, becoming a feared icon of the Galactic Empire. After discovering the existence of his son Luke, Vader was gradually pulled back to the light side before ending Sidious' reign once and for all during the Battle of Endor.

    Luke Skywalker (7958-8003), the son of Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala. Raised on Tatooine by Owen and Beru Lars to keep him out of the Empire's reach, Luke began training as a Jedi under Obi-Wan Kenobi and went on to become a hero of the Rebel Alliance during the Galactic Civil War. After finishing his training under Master Yoda, Luke confronted Darth Vader and was able to bring his father back to the light. He proceeded to begin rebuilding the Jedi Order, establishing an academy on Yavin 4 and taking on many apprentices under his wing, including Toah Jarsan. During the final battle with the Sith of Darth Vorath, Luke sacrificed himself to help Toah bring an end to Vorath.

    Leia Skywalker (7958-), daughter of Anakin Skywalker and twin sister of Luke. Raised on Alderaan by Bail and Breha Organa, Leia quickly rose as an important figure in the Rebel Alliance, leading many successful campaigns against the Galactic Empire. When Luke revealed her true legacy to her, Leia agreed to help her brother in rebuilding the Jedi Order, though she dedicated most of her work to the New Republic. After the Imperial Sith War, Leia was elected Chief of State though she was forced to step down due to the growing corruption and infighting within the Senate. Around 8017, she helped Toah Jarsan set up a Resistance to combat the threat of Darth Taral and his mysterious masters.

    Kane Skywalker (7959-), a clone of Anakin Skywalker created by Darth Vorath. Designed as an attempt to test the power of a Chosen One unhindered by life-support armor, Darth Nemesis proved to be not as strong as Vorath had hoped and was constantly looked over by his master. A feeling of resentment would fester within Nemesis over the course of Vorath's campaign against the New Republic, eventually leading him to turn against the Dark Lord and help the Jedi bring an end to the Sith Empire. Joining the Jedi Order, he took on the name Kane Skywalker and helped drive off the remnants of Vorath's Empire. Shortly after the Glorian War however, Kane departed for parts unknown and has not been seen since.

    Ben Solo (7982-), the eldest son of Leia Skywalker and Han Solo. At the age of three, he was abducted by a mysterious party and presumed dead by all but his mother, who could still feel him through the Force albeit barely. Despite several years of searching, it would not be until 8017 that Ben Solo resurfaced as the dark warrior "Kylo Ren."

    Jacen and Jaina Solo (7986-), the twin children of Leia Skywalker and Han Solo. Strong in the Force like their mother and uncle, they rose to prominence around the time of the Imperial Sith War and have continued to serve the Jedi Order into the Glorian War.

    Anakin Solo (7987-), the youngest son of Han and Leia. During the Glorian War, he helped locate the Star Maps of Dantooine, Tatooine, and Kashyyyk before teaming up with Toah Jarsan to destroy the rebuilt Star Forge, foiling the Glorians and their plans.

The Sunriders

    The Sunriders made a name for themselves around the time of the Old Sith Wars and had a lineage that lasted well until the twilight years of the Old Republic. However, by that time their name had long fallen into the realm of myth, and the connection the more recent generations had to those of old were known only by a few.

    The grandson of Jedi Master Jev Sunrider, Andur was trained in the ways of the Force by Master Chamma while raising his family on H'ratth. In 3978, while traveling to Ambria to complete his training under Master Thon, Andur was murdered by criminals after Adegan crystals. His wife Nomi then took up his lightsaber and struck down the crooks while defending their daughter Vima. Andur's Force ghost then guided Nomi and Vima to Ambria, where they fell under the tutelage of Jedi Master Thon and began their training.

    It wasn't long before Nomi Sunrider proved herself to be a powerful Jedi Knight in her own right. After quashing the Naddist Uprising on Onderon, she took part in the Great Sith War against the Sith Lords Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma -- the latter being her former lover. After severing Qel-Droma's connection to the Force and vanquishing Exar Kun on Yavin 4, Nomi saw the Sith War brought to an end before leading the efforts to rebuild the Jedi Order in its aftermath. As Grand Master, she restructured the Jedi Council into a twelve-member seat of power and instated rules forbidding attachment, something which had caused the Sith War to begin with.

    Like her mother, Vima Sunrider was also incredibly skilled in the Force, something she demonstrated at an early age under Master Thon's tutelage. After the Sith War, she hoped to continue her training under her mother but was often neglected because of Nomi's newfound duties as Grand Master. In 3991, she traveled to Rhen Var to seek out the exiled Ulic Qel-Droma, convincing him to take her on as his apprentice. After Qel-Droma's death, Vima's training was finally completed by Nomi and she turned out to be one of the greatest Jedi of her age.

    When the Mandalorian Wars broke out, the Sunriders were split on the proper course of action. While Nomi and the Jedi Council were against the Order getting involved, Vima empathized with the views of Revan and his Jedi Crusaders, of which Vima's former apprentice Meetra Surik was a member. While she never publicly joined or supported the Revanchists, Vima often played "Sith's advocate" in their favor, something which irritated the more hardlined members of the Council such as Vrook Lamar and Atris.

    When Nomi went into a self-imposed exile, Vima was nominated to fulfill her role as Grand Master. While she had her fair share of supporters on the Council, the objections of Lamar and others prevented a unanimous vote from being reached, leaving the position vacant for the remainder of the Mandalorian Wars and into the Jedi Civil War. When the Order was wiped out by the Sith Triumvirate, Vima was one of the handful of Jedi to survive the Purge. After the end of the Dark Wars, Vima came out of hiding along with her secret child, whom she had given birth to without the Order's knowledge. While she was offered the rank of Grand Master once more, Vima turned it down in favor of an advisory role on the reformed Jedi Council, seeing Bastila Shan as a far more capable leader than herself.

    Through her child, the Sunrider bloodline would continue on for several generations. However, by the time of the Golden Age of the Republic, the Sunriders had fallen into the realm of legends with its present members going by the name of Da'Boda, Nomi's maiden name. In 7787, Vima-Da-Boda was born and brought into the Jedi Order for training, eventually attaining the rank of Jedi Knight. While away on a mission in the Outer Rim, Vima gave birth to a daughter named Neema, whom she brought into the Order as a child she had allegedly found out in the Outer Rim, though some members of the Jedi Council -- including Master Yoda -- suspected there was more to her than meets the eye.

    Neema was eventually selected by her mother as a Padawan learner and trained in the ways of the Force. However, Neema grew frustrated with Vima's slow manner of teaching and she abandoned her mother to the dark side, eventually getting herself married to an Ottethan warlord. When said warlord trapped Neema within an oubliette, Neema sent a plea for help to her mother through the Force. When Vima reached her, she discovered that Neema had already been fed to rancors and she struck down the warlord in anger.

    Realizing what she had done, Vima-Da-Boda went into exile and hid in the slums of Nar Shaddaa. Due to the fact that her connection to the Force had faded, she was able to evade the Empire's notice when they brought about the Jedi Purge in 7958. During this time, she would cross paths with Han Solo and Kyp Durron, both who would later become major players in the defeat of the Empire and reformation of the Jedi Order, respectively. By 8002, she had joined the crew of Raj Braven, though her presence was only mildly tolerated. After the Imperial Sith War, Vima and Raj's crew accompanied Toah Jarsan to Dromund Kaas, where they were all killed by Atha Prime save for Toah himself.

The Shans

    While the earliest known members of the Shan family were not Force-sensitive, their daughter Bastila would go on to make the family's name one that would be remembered for centuries to come.

    Born seventeen years before the Jedi Civil War, Bastila Shan was raised by her parents on Talravin and had fond memories of spending time with her treasure hunting father. When her Force-sensitivity was discovered, Bastila's mother Helena pushed her into joining the Jedi Order, hoping that the Jedi would provide her daughter with a better life than she and her husband ever could provide.

    Trained in the ways of the Force by Jedi Master Tolaris Shim, Bastila quickly gained notoriety in the Jedi Order for her gift of battle meditation, a rare ability possessed by few Jedi. This made her a valuable asset to both the Order and the Galactic Republic when the Jedi Civil War broke out.

    Two years into the war, Bastila led a Jedi strike team to infiltrate the flagship of Darth Revan and capture the Sith Lord. Before they could engage Revan on the bridge of his ship, the Dark Lord's apprentice Darth Malak fired upon the destroyer, the resulting blast mortally wounding Revan. As the Sith Lord clung to life, Bastila used the Force to keep him alive as she and the surviving members of her team escorted him to safety. Unbeknownst to her at the time, this act would create a Force bond between her and Revan.

    Bastila brought Revan before the Jedi Council, who decided to reprogram his mind and create a new identity for him as a way to stop the Sith Empire once and for all. Because of her Force bond with Revan, Bastila was tasked with watching over the amnesiac Sith Lord and using their connection to unravel the mystery of the Star Forge, a superweapon under the Sith's control.

    In 4021 C.R.C., Bastila was in command of the Endar Spire when it was shot down over Taris by Sith forces. After crash-landing on the planet, she was captured by the Black Vulkars only to be rescued by the amnesiac Revan. She then brought him with her to Dantooine so he could retrain as a Jedi before accompanying him on his quest to locate the Star Maps. During the quest, she was captured by Darth Malak and brainwashed into his Sith apprentice, using her battle meditation against the Republic. However, she was brought back to the light by Revan -- having since discovered his true identity -- and she used her ability to turn the tide back in the Republic's favor.

    After the war's end, Bastila and Revan were married against the objections of the Jedi Council. Not long after Revan departed for the Unknown Regions to uncover the mystery of his origins, Bastila gave birth to their son, Vaner. While Revan never returned, Bastila went on to help rebuild the Jedi Order following the Dark Wars, eventually being named Grand Master and head of the new Jedi Council.

    Despite both of his parents being powerful Jedi, Vaner Shan never turned out to be Force-sensitive, preventing him from becoming a Jedi. This did not deter him from making a name for himself however as he eventually entered the field of politics, becoming a major leader in the Republic as it rebuilt itself from the devastation it had suffered during the Sith Wars. In 4077, he ran for the office of Supreme Chancellor. While his relationship to Bastila made him a popular candidate, it also cost him the race because many were wary of the Jedi having any kind of influence in the Senate, with some even suspecting nepotism. While none of these feelings had any factual validation, Vaner nonetheless lost the race to Iden Vanicus. Despite this, Vaner continued to be a major political figure in the Galactic Senate and remained an ally of Chancellor Vanicus until she left office in 3995 C.R.C.

    The Shan legacy was continued through Vaner's children, Bress and Reesa, both who had inherited their grandparents' Force-sensitivity and would later become members of the Jedi Order. While Bress remained a dedicated member of the Jedi Order, his younger sister Reesa often clashed with the Jedi Council's views on attachment and marriage, something which continued to her eventual descendant Tasiele Shan.

    In 4278, Tasiele bore a daughter named Satele, who was taken into the Jedi Order while her mother was exiled by the Council at the behest of the Republic. Having inherited her ancestor's ability of battle meditation, Satele Shan would go on to become a valuable member of the Jedi Order during the Great War. After the Treaty of Coruscant, Satele rediscovered the Jedi's ancient homeworld of Tython and helped the Order recover from the war, eventually being named Grand Master.

    During the war, Satele had given birth to a son named Theron, whom she placed in the care of Master Ngani Zho for Jedi training. However, like Vaner, Theron was not Force-sensitive and thus rejected by the Order for further training. Instead, he ended up joining the Republic's Strategic Information Service, becoming a valued agent during the Cold War. Along with the Sith Lord Lana Beniko, he became a close ally of the individual known as the Outlander. Some records indicate that the Outlander was a female Near-Human named Larisa and suggested that she and Theron had a romantic relationship. Whether the Shan legacy continued through them has yet to be discovered.

AUTHOR FOOTNOTES

   -Most of the info regarding the Skywalker is canonical to the original six Saga films, with Luke's fate being unique to the final installment of my first Destiny series.

    -Kylo Ren, aka Ben Solo, originates from Episode VII and is not canonical to the Legends Expanded Universe, which Destiny has its roots in. His backstory and fall to the dark side have been drastically altered (mainly with him being abducted rather than being an ex-Jedi) in order to make him fit.

   -Nomi and Vima's actions during the Mandalorian Wars and Jedi Civil War are original to this piece. However, it is very common for SW fan-fic writers to use them as leaders of the Jedi Order in works set during this time period, so the idea itself isn't exactly unique even if the details are.

    -Vima-Da-Boda's fate is not depicted in Legends canon and is instead unique to my Destiny saga.

    -Bastila Shan's age is not explicitly stated in the Knights of the Old Republic video game, though it can be inferred that she's younger than the player character and not that much older than Mission Vao (who is 14). I've decided to make Bastila around nineteen or twenty during the events of KOTOR because that seems to be Star Wars' favorite age for young protagonists (see: Luke, Anakin, Rey).

   -Tolaris Shim is a Jedi character created for Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force by Ryder Windham. I decided to use the character in the role of Bastila's master because, in the book, they discusses the four stages of redemption in relation to Ulic Qel-Droma, something which I thought paralleled the redemption of Bastila's future husband Revan.

    -While Vaner Shan is stated to be running for Supreme Chancellor in the novel The Old Republic: Revan, I thought it would be more interesting if he didn't win the race as one might expect and instead have him lose to a descendant of Admiral Vanicus from the Tales of the Jedi comic books.

    -Not much is known of Bress and Reesa Shan other than that they are the children of Vaner. As such, the fact that they became Jedi is original to this fanfic.