EPILOGUE
"So Liege Maximo's still out there?"
"Yup." Rodimus Prime leaned against the railing of the balcony, staring out into the night. "Onyx said he and Vigilem took off without a trace."
"And what of the other Primes?"
"Onyx, Nexus and Convoy have gone after him," Rodimus replied. "They took the other Titans with them as well. Vector's staying behind, I think."
Behind him, joints creaked as his visitor sat down. "What about Soundwave? Wasn't he a Prime as well?"
"Not as far as he's concerned. However, he has agreed to serve an advisory role to the new High Council, along with Shockwave, Starscream and Elita." At this, Rodimus paused before looking back at the bot behind him. "You know, there's always room for one more."
"Oh no." The red and blue bot chuckled. "My time as a leader for this planet is over. It's time for someone else to take charge."
"Still, I wouldn't mind the advice."
Orion Pax hobbled forward and rested a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "You'll always have it, my friend. If ever you begin to doubt yourself, just turn to me."
Rodimus smiled back at his predecessor before returning his gaze to the night sky. Above them, Sky Lynx and the Lunabots were working hard to clear the wreckage of Luna 1. Lowering his tone, he said, "There's no way he could've survived that, is there?"
Orion shook his head. "No."
"Does it bother you? Knowing he's just... gone like that?"
Orion sighed as he stared at the moon's remains. "He's been gone for a long time...."
* * *
"Waspinator did nothing wrong! Please don't hurt Waspinator!"
"Zip it, bugsie," Barricade snapped at the Predacon as he strode past the cells. "Whining's not gonna get you anything."
Ignoring Waspinator's incessant whimpering, Barricade continued down the hall before stopping before the one that contained the solitary Gnashteeth. At Barricade's behest, the two Autotrooper guards left, leaving the Decepticon alone with the Predacon leader.
"Let's see here...." Barricade studied the datapad in his hand. "Gnashteeth of the Beast Subjugation? Cycle 9187?"
Gnashteeth said nothing, keeping his optics to the floor.
"That's right, Scorponok had thawed out a bunch of M.T.Os for that. You were the only one to survive." Barricade smirked at him. "Come a long way, haven't you?"
Gnashteeth glared at him as the Decepticon went on.
"Anyway, seems like our new Prime wants to be gentle with you. Tomorrow, you and your Preds will be released but put on strict parole. Inhibitor claws, non-lethal deterrence chips, the works.
"But I tell you, we've got our optics on you. Try anything funny and it'll be the VVH for you. This'll be your first and only second chance."
Lowering the datapad, Barricade gave Gnashteeth one last pitiful look.
"You may think you'll be cunning enough to work around the system. But face it, pal: all you've got is an ego the size of a planet. You're no Megatron and you never will be."
With those spiting words, Barricade turned and left Gnashteeth to himself, completely oblivious to the sly grin creeping across the Predacon leader's face.
* * *
"Gotta say, it hurts knowin' I'm gonna outlive these bots."
Roadbuster simply nodded solemnly as he and Kup stood in front of the Trion Square Memorial Monument, modified to add the names of those who had recently fallen. Kup's tired old optics traced the names, from Prowl of Petrex to Ultra Magnus of Ambustus Minor (technically it should have said Minimus Ambus, but Rodimus Prime had insisted on the change).
When his eyes fell on Impactor's name, the veteran Autobot said, "Has Rodimus said anythin' 'bout the state of the Wreckers as a group?"
"Momentarily disbanded," Roadbuster grunted. "Least until we're needed again."
"What about Springer? Any news on him?"
"Still out of it."
Kup frowned. "You think he'll ever wake up?"
Roadbuster said nothing, staring forlornly at the monolith. With a sigh, Kup patted his arm.
"He'll pull through, kid. Trust me on this."
* * *
"Mesothulas, if you're hearing this, it means I'm dead."
The message played on an endless loop in the spider's head as it stalked through the vents. It didn't mind. It was the only thing it needed to hear.
"If you're the one who killed me, congratulations. I don't blame you."
Through the grate, it watched as medics operated on a green and yellow bot. It took everything in the arachnid's power to not take him away then and there.
"Because I know I'm not the easiest bot to get along with. Honestly, I'm surprised it's taken this long for someone to do the deed."
One of the medic's let out an excited cry. The others rushed over to his side.
"Before I go, Mesothulas, there's one last thing I need to tell you... whether or not it'll be true by the time you hear this, I don't know, but nonetheless...."
On the repair slab, Springer's optics glowed to life.
"Ostaros is safe."
None of the medics could hear the happy squeal over their own cheers and remained oblivious as Tarantulas skittered away.
* * *
"It's yours."
Star Saber stared at Rodimus Prime as if he was completely knackered. Rodimus himself felt the same way for even saying those words, even more so for how easily he said them.
"Are you... are you sure?" Star Saber asked, looking back at the Lost Light.
Rodimus nodded. "Positive. I mean, hey, someone's gotta find the Knights of Cybertron. It just can't be me because... well, you know."
"But... surely Dai Atlas would be a better fit for command?"
"He's already chosen to stay behind and serve on the High Council." Rodimus smiled. "He even told me that you were more than capable of taking his place as leader of the Circle of Light."
"Well, uh...." Star Saber looked abashed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Thank you for saying so, Prime. I won't let you down."
Rodimus beamed. "I know you won't."
"All set, captain!" Sixknight called from the ship's ramp. With him were Ginrai, Devcon, Flareup and Vector Prime. The latter raised an arm to Rodimus.
"Fair tidings to you, Rodimus Prime! I wish you luck in future endeavors!"
Rodimus waved back at him. "Right back atcha! Say hi to the Knights for me!"
Star Saber looked back at him. "Are you certain that--"
"More than certain." Rodimus patted him on the back. "The only thing stopping you is yourself."
* * *
This was not at all how Cannonball had expected things to go.
Plundering a backwater world like Earth sounded simple enough. After all, they were so technologically backwards that they would have not had an ounce of a fighting chance. It would have been child's play.
So why, then, was he at the mercy of a giant lion?
As the feline had him pinned, Cannonball looked to see that Ferak, Brimstone and the others had all been apprehended by the animal-looking Decepticons the lion had brought with him. They were unlike any Transformer Cannonball had seen before... and now they were commandeering the Tidal Wave away from Earth.
"All systems are a go," reported a canine-like Monstercon. "Where to now, Prime?"
The lion snorted. "Anywhere. The stars' the limit. By time we forge our own path rather than follow one preordained by someone else."
Steel Jaw grinned. "I like the way you think."
As he began to set in coordinates, the lion transformed and held Cannonball in place with his foot. Drawing a sword, Leo Prime aimed it at the pirate captain's face.
"Now then... what did you say your name was?"
* * *
"Wow. Even Roller?"
"Yup!" Nightbeat beamed as he and Elita-One stood at the counter of Maccadam's, ran by -- to no one's surprise -- Swerve, Bluestreak and Blurr. Octane was also helping out, though he seemed to be more concerned with chatting up a burly Guncon that had been brought from Necroworld.
"Censere -- the Necrobot -- had rescued them using the last part of Brainstorm's time machine," Nightbeat went on. "They were all on his list of the Disappeared, though he had only gotten a third of them before the Secret Order arrived."
"I see." Elita couldn't help but smile as she watched Orion and Roller laugh and talk with each other, just like old times. Their reunion wasn't the only one either; nearby Rung was with his old crewmate Kaput, Doublecross (or was it Twinferno?) had reunited with his Monsterbot brothers, Nautica and Velocity were getting along well with a pair of explorers, and Scrounge was helping Blaster with sound mixing.
It was a sight she had never expected to see in her lifetime. But she was more than glad to.
"He did good work," she murmured.
"Now that I can drink to," Nightbeat said, raising his oil can. Elita clinked her's against it before heading over to Orion and Roller's table, once more among friends.
* * *
"Hey, I like this song," Stormshot said, tapping her fingers against the bar counter. "Who sings it?"
"Uh, just a minute." Swerve quickly slid a drink over to an over-fueled Trailbreaker, who was trying to out-drink a sober Toxitron. "I think it's... Voyage? No, no, it's... it's... Bluestreak, what's another word for--"
"Journey."
"Journey, that's it!" Swerve grinned. "That guy's gotta hell of a voice."
"Are they still making music?" asked Tailgate.
"Yeah, but they kicked the Voice out so now they're just JINO."
"JINO?"
"Journey In Name Only."
"Oh." Tailgate stared at his drink for a moment. "What about the Voice? Has he made anything?"
"Yeah, he's got a couple of albums under his belt."
"Can you play them?"
"As long as you pay your tab."
"Hey, Tailgate." A blue minibot came up from behind where Tailgate was sitting, snaking an arm around his. Tailgate looked at her in surprise.
"Glyph?"
She smiled at him. "May I have this dance?"
"Uh, why, sure!"
With that, the two minibots headed over to the dance floor, joining the likes of Nautica and Skids. Swerve made a face as he watched them go.
"Love is weird."
"Agreed." Stormshot smiled as she slid over her empty glass. "Got more Vixco?"
Swerve beamed. "You bet!"
* * *
"No. No, no, no. No."
Thundercracker slowly lowered his shades, peering at Crosscut. "Come again?"
The Autobot playwright ran a hand over his face as he stared at the Seeker's script. "How... how long did you spend writing this?"
"About eight months. Why?"
Crosscut was gobsmacked. "You mean... all this time... while we were dealing with Thunderwing and Predacons and Secret Orders, you were writing this... this rubbish?!"
Thundercracker frowned at him. "Watch it, pal. I've got lawyers, you know."
"Thundercracker, I can't... this is abysmal! This is... I've seen graffiti with more sense than this!"
"It's avant-garde! People eat that stuff up!"
Crosscut shook his head. "That may sadly be so, but even if I agreed to this, no one will want to partake in it. You can write this scrap, sure, but you sure as hell can't say it!"
But Thundercracker was no longer listening. Instead he had moved on to a certain purple clone of Megatron sitting in a booth with Blitzwing and Rotorbolt.
"Are you busy?" the Seeker asked him, grabbing his shoulder.
Archforce blinked. "Uh, no?"
Thundercracker grinned. "Then have I got the opportunity of a lifetime for you."
* * *
"You know, they say Primes don't party."
"Says who?" Rodimus Prime asked, popping open a fresh can of engex.
Ratchet shrugged. "I don't know. People, I guess. Granted, for the longest time the only Prime we had to go off of was Sentinel and, well...."
"I suppose that's fair," Rodimus said, drinking from the can. "I guess there's a first time for everything."
"I'll say." Ratchet looked over to the dance floor, where Tailgate was attempting and failing at a head-spin. "If Ultra Magnus was here, he'd be blowing a gasket."
Rodimus chuckled. "More like all of his gaskets. You should have been here earlier; Drift was balancing on his sword on Grimlock's back. I'm sure that breaks at least thirteen safety regulations."
Ratchet glanced back at him and smirked. "We're not normal, are we, Prime?"
"Normal?" Rodimus laughed as he raised can. "Normal jumped out the window a long time ago, doc. Nine thousand eight hundred and fourteen years ago, to be precise."
Ratchet found himself laughing as well as he toasted to that.
* * *
Light years away, on a hollow planet dominated by blue flowers, Viral stood alone before his statue, staring up at his own face.
It was an outdated look, back when he still had a face rather than a mere screen. Still, it was a decent likeness; it was nice to look at it one last time before he started the next chapter of his life.
Shaking the oversized cloak of the Necrobot, he looked down at the list of the Disappeared. Those Censere had already rescued were marked off, leaving Viral a good idea of where to start.
Stardust of Ibex. Vanished Cycle 9518, Battle of Volna Major.
The transwarp drive was already set to go. After taking one last look, the Necrobot deactivated the statue of Viral of Triax before activating the drive and vanishing into thin air.
THE END
...FOR NOW
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