CHAPTER FIVE
--Cybertron--
"Ultracons?"
"That's what they called themselves," Groove said, sitting on a medslab as First Aid patched him up. "I didn't see how many there were or who they were comprised of. I just know that Ratbat was with them."
"Streetwise mentioned spotting mostly Insecticons in his report," Rodimus Prime said, pacing back and forth. "We've been trying to hunt them all down since the Thunderwing incident. Guess now we know what they've all been up to...."
"And when was the last time Ratbat was seen?" asked Ironhide, who stood at the back of the room. "Last I heard, Soundwave had stuffed his spark into a Mini-Con body."
"Yeah, but then Soundwave died and all his little buddies were set free." Rodimus rubbed his chin as he contemplated this. "I should probably see if I can get in touch with him. Maybe he can help us find out where Ratbat's been and what he's up to."
"That just leaves the question of Battletrap," Ironhide grunted. "Was he in on this the whole time or just an unwitting bystander?"
"We can't make any judgments until we have substantial evidence. We'll continue investigating and try to get a better idea of the bigger picture." Rodimus sighed. "If only Nightbeat were still around...."
"If you need a detective, then I think I know someone," said Ironhide. "He's retired now, but I think he'd be up for one last case."
"Great. In the meantime--" Rodimus abruptly cut himself off as his head twitched violently. Ironhide, Groove, and First Aid all looked at him in surprise.
"Rodimus?" First Aid said carefully. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, why?" Rodimus asked, acting as if nothing had happened.
"You... you were talking and then you twitched your head." Groove mimicked the act in question. "Like that."
"I did?" Rodimus rubbed his neck. "Must be a loose gear or something. I know it's been a year but I'm still trying to get used to this... 'Prime' body."
"Perhaps you should have me or Ratchet check on you," First Aid suggested.
"Yeah, sure." Rodimus turned to leave. "Not right now though. We've got more important things at hand."
Ironhide moved to block him from exiting but Rodimus did not so much as notice him as he strode out of the room. The three Autobots watched on in confused silence. Once the Prime was gone, Groove spoke up.
"Something's giving me a bad feeling about this."
* * *
Roadtrap and Battleslash grunted in unison as they were unceremoniously dropped to the ground. As the two Insecticons that had been carrying them transformed, Ratbat let out an angered screech as he circled around them.
"Careful, you oafs! I didn't go through all this trouble of capturing these two just so you can toss them around like scrap!"
"Watch it, you bolt-bat," snarled Venom. "You didn't pay us to be careful. You just said you wanted these Duocons in the bag."
"Be grateful I'm paying you at all!" Ratbat shot back. "If it weren't for me, the Autobots would already have you all locked up!"
Venom growled as he balled his hands into fists. Before he could act, a green and purple bot entered the room.
"Lord Ratbat?" Scrapper asked carefully, glancing from the Insecticons to the Duocons on the floor. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon."
Ratbat turned away from Venom as he recomposed himself. "Ahem. Yes, it was remarkably easy to retrieve these two. The Autobot clearly had not been expecting us."
"So shall we get to work then?"
"Hold on a blasted nanosecond!" Battleslash exclaimed as he got back to his feet. "Just what the slag is going on here? What do you guys want from us?"
Ratbat fixed him with an analytic gaze. "I would have thought you'd be grateful for the rescue."
"I mean, we are," Roadtrap said. "But... why us? Why go through all that trouble for us?"
"Yeah," Battleslash muttered. "I thought everyone just saw us as Genericon thugs."
"Well, you are." Ratbat grinned savagely. "But you also have a gift, don't you? A gift bestowed upon you by Shockwave."
At this, realization dawned on the pair. "Oh," Battleslash said, "you mean this gift?"
At once, the two Duocons began to shift and merge, with Roadtrap forming a pair of legs and Battleslash the upper torso. Once Battletrap had been formed, Ratbat laughed as he spread his wings.
"Yes, exactly! You are one of a kind!"
"Not really," Battletrap said, rubbing his helm. "I mean, Flywheels was created at the same time we -- I was. Of course, he's dead now."
"Regardless, you have an ability few Transformers have these days. We Decepticons have been trying for centuries to rediscover the art of combination."
"Didn't you guys make Bruticus though?" Battletrap asked. "And I thought I heard Starscream took a crack at it during the whole Thunderwing thing."
Ratbat rolled his optics. "The point," he growled, "is that you could be of great use to us. Isn't that right, Scrapper?"
"The gestalt process is far from perfected," the Constructicon leader said to Battletrap. "With Monstructor imprisoned, we no longer have a subject to study. You are our only hope."
Battletrap blinked. "Oh, really? Well, when you put it like that...." He grinned as he turned back to Ratbat. "I'm in. Where do I sign up?"
Ratbat smirked. "In Scrapper's lab, of course."
The Duocon blinked in confusion and did not hear the Constructicon Bonecrusher approach him from behind, until a large green fist fell on his head and knocked him out.
* * *
No matter how many times he looked at the screen, Guiltaur still could not make sense of the footage he was watching. He had no idea who the two small robots were or whose spark they were carrying or why they were carrying it... none of it meant anything to him.
"What am I watching?" Guiltaur muttered to himself. "I don't recognize these bots."
You wouldn't, the voice in his head said. They don't exist yet.
"What?"
Time is an open circle, Optronix. Always spinning, never ending. These robots hail from the future -- a possible future, mind you. They were brought to the past by the Autobots, where they helped ensure your creation.
However, time is always malleable. Their future is simply one of many possibilities. If that future does not come to pass -- if their existence is negated -- then you will cease to be and everything will collapse in on itself.
Guiltaur frowned as he struggled to process this. "So... where do I fit in this?"
You must ensure that the circle is closed, Optronix. You must do for these two what they did for you.
"And that is?"
Give them life.
Guiltaur was silent for a moment as he continued to watch the footage. He still could not connect with any of it; his earliest memories were of his life as Nemesis Prime. Megatron -- or Optronix's memories remained buried deep beneath his processor, practically non-existent. Then again, this voice in his head clearly wasn't going anywhere until he did what it wanted.
"Fine," he grunted. "Where do we start?"
His answer came in the form of everything around him disappearing....
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