Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia IX, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

    "We've lost contact with Dark Scorponok."

    The commander of the Worldsweeper shifted in his seat, optics flowing from the shadows which obscured him. "How?"

    The officer frowned as he glanced back at his monitor. "Er... I believe he's been killed. The rest of the Terrorcons are in disarray."

    "A Unitrex-class quantum ship has just arrived," reported another bot. "Think the two might be connected?"

    "Don't ask questions of me," snarled the captain. "How much of the ore have we retrieved thus far?"

    "Barely half of it, sir," said the first officer. "We're not even close to the desired amount... and our drone supply is wearing thin."

    "Then perhaps it is time to resort to alternative means," the commander said. "Initiate protocol nine."

    The officer turned to him in surprise. "Protocol nine? But, sir, that's--"

    "I know."

    "That would seriously deplete--"

    "I gave you a command, lieutenant. See to it that it is obeyed to the letter."

    Not wishing to further incur their superior's wrath, the crew of the Worldsweeper did as commanded.

*  *  *

    "Skids, Scattorshot, get everyone to the shuttles!" Wing Saber cried over the sound of his own gunfire. "Flareup, back up Blurr and his team!"

    "We are not abandoning our home," Override said firmly as she joined the Autobot. "If it falls, then so shall we."

    "That's a very honorable mindset, but I don't think these guys care much for honor." Wing Saber winced as he witnessed a Terrorcon cleave off a Velocitronian's head with its ax. "Or dignity, for that matter."

    "I see your point," Override murmured. "Still, I don't like the idea of leaving our city to the mercy -- or lack thereof -- of these savages."

    "Your city is a Titan, isn't it? You don't suppose it could--"

    Override shook her head. "Navitas is... not in the best condition to participate in our fight. The most he can do is roll."

    "And how do you get him to do that?" Wing Saber asked.

    Override looked out towards the battlefield. Most of her people had been escorted safely to the Lost Light's shuttles, leaving only the raging Terrorcon hordes below. After a moment's thought, she drew a small pistol and aimed it at the sky.

    "Hold on to something," she told Wing Saber before pulling the trigger.

*  *  *

    Sideways swore loudly as she watched the last shuttle depart from Delta. For all the speed her current body was supposedly built for, she certainly wasn't as fast as other Velocitronians. There were more shuttles waiting down below, but no way in Pit was she stepping through all those Terrorcons to--

    She let out a wail as she was unexpectedly flung off the edge of the city. As she soared through the air, she caught sight of Delta -- the entire city complex -- moving from where it had been standing for the last several thousand years. Gears groaned loudly as Navitas rolled across the battlefield. Terrorcons that got ensnared in the Titan's treads were brutally torn to pieces while the rest were flattened into the dirt.

    Sideways hit the ground and quickly transformed to her car mode, zipping around Terrorcons to make it to the closest shuttle. It was just her luck that Skids of all bots was waiting for her, waving her to come aboard.

    "Get on or get run over," he commented as she passed him.

    She resisted the urge to tell him that he had already made that joke during the Bara-Mag job. She didn't want to get kicked off that quickly....

*  *  *

    "Uh, sir?"

    An exasperated sigh sounded from behind the lieutenant. "Is it so hard to follow such a simple command."

    "Sir, the city is running over the Terrorcons."

    Silence for a moment. "Give me a visual."

    The lieutenant did as told and the command was soon watching live footage of Terrorcons being crushed beneath the treads of the Velocitronian capital. With each unit that was destroyed, the more of the ore they lost. The tide was being turned against there... and that simply would not do.

    "Belay my initial order," the command said, rising from his seat. "I'm going down there myself."

    "Sir?" The lieutenant looked incredulous. "But... they have a Titan!"

    "Not for long, they won't." And with that, the command was gone.

*  *  *

    "The last of the shuttles is away," said Vector Prime as Wing Saber and Override rejoined him. Behind them, Navitas was still in the process of rolling aimlessly across the Velocitronian desert, crushing any Terrorcon unfortunate enough to get into its path.

    "Good," Wing Saber replied. "So, do we leave now or wait until our big friend finishes up?"

    Before Vector could answer, he caught sight of a dark, indiscernible shape descending from the Worldsweeper. The other two followed his gaze and watched as the shape landed onto Navitas. The Titan continued to roll for another moment before coming to an abrupt halt.

    Wing Saber tensed in apprehension. "That can't be a good thing."

    Override moved to race over to Navitas but was stalled by Vector laying a hand on her shoulder, earning the ancient Prime a sharp look. "What do you think you're--"

    "I'll handle this," Vector Prime murmured as he stepped in front of her.

    "Navitas is my city. Whatever that thing is, it is my duty to stop it."

    "Your honor is admirable." With that, Vector Prime swiftly cut a portal open with his sword before pushing Override and Wing Saber into it. Once the dimension gate had closed, the ancient Prime transformed and flew towards the Titan.

*  *  *

    "Ow." Wing Saber groaned as he rolled off of Overhaul, whom he had landed on after being pushed into Vector Prime's portal. "Sorry about that."

    "What happened?" asked Star Saber, standing at the helm of the Lost Light. "Where's Vector Prime?"

    "At Navitas," Override replied. "Something dropped down from the Worldsweeper and he went after it."

    "Then we should go and help him," Star Saber said. "I don't know what that old relic's up to, but I'm not leaving him in danger."

    He was about to give the order for the Lost Light to advance when he noticed something else happening with the Worldsweeper. The bow of the massive Symbol Ship had split down the middle to unfurl a large cannon, which it now pointed at the Lost Light.

    "Evasive maneuvers!" Star Saber cried, but the command came too late. The Worldsweeper fired its weapon and the world was engulfed in white....

*  *  *

    Vector Prime's optics went wide as the Lost Light was vaporized before his eyes. He had just touched down on Navitas when the Worldsweeper had fired its weapon, leaving him unable to have prevented it.

    "Did you enjoy the show?"

    The voice seemed to come from all around him, but the ancient Prime knew who it belonged to, even if he hadn't heard it in many millennia.

    "Amalgamous," he growled, brandishing Rhisling. "What have you done to them?"

    "Exactly what it looks like, old friend. I would not deceive you so; you're thinking of Liege Maximo."

    "You're going to pay for this!" Vector bellowed.

    "My, have we grown attached all of a sudden? How unlike you."

    From the shadows of Navitas' structures, a figure in black and bronze armor emerged. Other than the colors, the body design was identical to Vector's; a deliberate choice made to mock the other Prime. In his hand was a silver sword similar to Vector's own blade.

    "Come then," said Amalgamous Prime, waving his blade. "Avenge your friends."

    Vector Prime uttered nary a sound as he charged at his former comrade, Rhisling raised high....

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia IX, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

--Velocitron--

    "Override! Delta's shields are down! We're getting pounded!"

    "Hang in there, Excellion!" Override cried into her comm, firing her twin-barreled gun into the oncoming horde of beetle-like bots. "We aren't exactly having it easy out here either!"

    All around her, the Terrorcons were tearing up Velocitron's roads, sending racers plummeting to their deaths. Even with the support of the Autobot Speed Team, Override and her people were having no luck in repelling these robotic creatures as they continued to pour out of the Decepticon Worldsweeeper hovering above them.

    After taking out an Insecticon that had been terrorizing Hightail, Override hailed her Autobot counterpart. "Blurr! Can you and your team double back to Delta and provide support?"

    "Already there," was the reply just as a blue shape zipped through the front lines.

    That's one bot I can always count on, Override thought to herself as she returned her attention to the Terrorcons. Although there were still more coming out of the Worldsweeper, it seemed like the crowd in front of her was starting to dissipate. Were they trying to get around them to reach the capital?

    Before she could speculate any further, a large shadow fell over her and her teammates. Daring to look up, she adjusted her optics to Velocitron's blazing sun and was eventually able to make out a massive, black-armored figure with large claws... which was quickly making its way down towards the ground.

    "Scatter!" Override's command barely came in time as the giant touched down, kicking up clouds of dirt. While most of the Velocitronians were able to get away in time, not all were quick enough to outrun the Terrorcon as it seized them with its claws. Quicklightning in particular learned this the hard way. Override knew she would be hearing his dying screams for years to come....

    "Everyone fall back!" she called out, already transforming to her race car form. "Get back to Delta!"

    "Are you crazy?" cried out Hightail. "We'll just lead them straight to the capital!"

    "That's the idea." Override revved her engine before peeling off through the Velocitronian desert.

*  *  *

    Outside the city, all hell was breaking loose. Inside, things weren't much better.

    With Delta's shields down, more Velocitronians were rushing out to defend their vulnerable city. It wouldn't do much good though; Velocitronians weren't exactly known for their firepower. Which was why Sideways wanted to get the hell out of here before things went from bad to worse.

    From the second she had been "reborn" on Velocitron as "Wayside," she had hated the planet with every nano-fiber of her being. All these people cared about was racing, racing, racing. They never did or cared for anything besides that inane, terminally boring sport. The only reason she hadn't left already was because she didn't have anywhere to go where she wouldn't be murdered on sight. But seeing as she was probably going to be murdered anyway if she stayed here any longer....

    Sideways kept to the shadows as she navigated Delta's halls, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from passerby Velocitronians. With almost everyone outside, the chamber to the city's space bridge would be left mostly unguarded, and any guards who were left could be easily dispatched.

    Sure enough, by the time she finally reached said chamber, only two bots were standing guard. They were none the wiser to her presence, which made them easy targets. Moving as silently as she could, she deployed a spinning razor-saw from her arm.

    "Armco! Syncol!"

    Sideways froze where she stood as Override sped past her. The leader of Velocitron converted to robot mode and ran up to the two surprised guards.

    "We need to get Navitas mobile," Override said. "I want you to start diverting the space bridge's power to the engines."

    "Um, all right," replied Syncol. "Why?"

    "There's no time to explain. A lot of bots are dying out there, and those beasts will be through those walls at any--"

    Override was cut off by the sound of claws scraping against metal. Sideways followed her and the guards' gazes to the ceiling, which a pair of black claws were beginning to tear through.

    "No," Override whispered, before shouting, "Both of you, get down!"

    Her command was drowned out by the sound of steel being torn asunder. A black and gold robot dropped down and landed on top of Syncol and Armco, crushing them beneath his feet.

    Sideways' optics went wide as she stared upon the giant scorpion-like bot. It couldn't be possible; she was certain that he had perished on Cybertron two years ago. The other Heralds had thought as much, and yet... here he was.

    "This needn't end so gruesomely," growled Dark Scorponok, his back tail poised over his crimson helm. "Let us get what we want and no more lives shall be taken."

    "You've already taken your fair share," Override snapped, aiming her weapon at the former Herald. "What makes you think we're going to back down now?"

    "If you have already decided your fates, then so be it."

    Dark Scorponok then deployed a pair of guns from his tail and fired, sending Override flying. As the Terrorcon turned to the space bridge chamber, Sideways realized what her only option was. Going outside would be suicide and trying to take down or sneak past her former colleague would have an equal rate of success. This really only left her with one choice....

    Emerging from the shadows, Sideways cautiously approached Dark Scorponok. "Uh, hey, Clamps," she started to say. "It's me, Side--"

    Without warning, Dark Scorponok spun around and seized Sideways with his claw. She winced in pain as he pulled her closer, glaring at her with black optics.

    "Don't," he snarled, "ever call me 'Clamps.'"

    "Right, right, sorry," Sideways said hastily, straining in the scorpion's grip. "I meant Scorponok. Dark Scorponok. The one who isn't green. So, what have you been up to these past couple of years?"

    "I don't have time for this," he growled. "Either get out of my way or be destroyed."

    With that, he hurled Sideways into a wall. She was pretty sure a back piston gave out from the impact. As she tried to come back to her senses, she saw Dark Scorponok tear his way into the space bridge chamber. Meanwhile, through the opening in the ceiling he had made, she could see a flock of Terrorcon birds begin to swarm in over Delta...

    ...when a giant spaceship came out of nowhere and started blasting them.

    As Sideways tried to make sense of this sudden turn of events, Dark Scorponok emerged from the other room with an enraged look on his face.

    "No!" he cried. "When did they call in for reinforcements?!"

    "We never did." Sideways looked over to see Override back on her feet, gun pointed at the Terrorcon. "But I think it's safe to say they're on our side."

    Dark Scorponok roared in anger as he started to charge towards Override. Sideways thought for sure the Velocitronian leader was done for... but was proven wrong when a portal unexpectedly opened behind the Terrorcon. A sword-wielding figure jumped out of it and impaled Dark Scorponok from behind with his blade. An agonized scream was the last sound the Terrorcon uttered as the blue sword lacerated him from chest to head.

    So much for my ticket out of here, Sideways grimly thought to herself.

    "That was quite the entrance," Override commented as the figure sheathed his blade. "I don't believe we've been acquainted."

    "My name is Vector Prime," the old bot replied. "You may be more familiar with my companions, as I believe they've visited your world before."

    As if on cue, four more figures emerged from the portal and Sideways cursed to herself. She cursed her luck, she cursed the Guiding Hand, and all of her past lives as well as any that would come next. She was starting to wish she had let Dark Scorponok kill her when she had the chance.

    "So," Skids said as he stepped up. "Where do we start?"

    This was going to suck.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia IX, Prologue

PROLOGUE

--Cybertron--

    Dim neon signs flickered on the dark streets of Kaon, providing no more illumination than the broken street lights. Headlights beamed from the convoy of cars, trucks, and construction vehicles as they cautiously made their way down the deserted roads, destined for the derelict building up ahead.

    Three bots stood under the glimmering sign of The Blue Deployer, patiently awaiting the convoy as the assorted vehicles gradually drove to a halt before them. The center figure, a tall bot in gray and green, stepped forward just as the largest of the vehicles -- a black truck -- opened up its trailer. A lithe purple bot emerged and the gray one bowed in reverence.

    "Lord Ratbat," said Banzai-Tron. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person. I trust you had no difficulties in traveling here?"

    Ratbat said nothing, merely regarding Banzai-Tron with the yellow visor which covered his face. Banzai-Tron blinked in confusion and looked to the rest of the Ultracons as they transformed to their robot modes.

    "Is this all of you membership?" he asked the Constructicon leader Scrapper.

    "At present," Scrapper replied. "It's been... greatly reduced in the past few days."

    "I see." Banzai-Tron glanced again at the silent Ratbat before turning to the other two bots with him. "Prepare accommodations for our guests here. Then we can get down to business."

    With that, Banzai-Tron led the Ultracons into The Blue Deployer and waited until all of them were seated at a large table. Only Ratbat remained standing, carefully observing Banzai-Tron as he set the table for the coming meeting. Once everyone had been provided with refueling options, the Director of the Decepticon Secret Service stood at the far end of the table, facing opposite Ratbat.

    "So," Banzai-Tron carefully started. "Where are we currently at in terms of progress?"

    "We are near completion in Operation: Gestalt," said Scrapper. "Motormaster and his Stunticons have already been successfully reconfigured according to the same schematics for Bruticus. We have also extensively studied the Duocon Battletrap and will be able to reconfigure myself and the Constructicons accordingly."

    "Excellent. And, ah, what of our other past endeavors; concerning Trypticon and this... Emberstone?"

    Scrapper hesitated as he looked over to Ratbat, who did not speak up. "Er... well, Trypticon's current whereabouts are unknown. As for the Emberstone... we have a piece of it but have yet to locate the others."

    Banzai-Tron inclined his head. "And how exactly does the Emberstone relate to our plans?"

    "What even is our plan at this point?" asked Squeezeplay, sitting across from Scrapper. "When I signed up, Ratbat was sayin' he wanted to oust the Autobots. But now we're collecting rocks? I don't understand."

    Banzai-Tron fixed a quizzical gaze on Ratbat. "My liege? Care to elaborate?"

    Ratbat finally spoke, but his voice lacked the charisma the councilor was generally known for. It was monotonic, devoid of personality. "The Emberstone is vital to the agenda. Without it or Ore-14, we will not be able to repel the Beast."

    "The agenda? The Beast?" Banzai-Tron shook his head. "With all due respect, my lord, you are not making much if any sense. If you would care to elaborate...?"

    "There is a threat approaching Cybertron," Ratbat went on. "This threat could endanger our rule, even if we do succeed in overthrowing the Autobots. This is why we must take the necessary precautions for when this threat finally arrives."

    "And how do you know of this threat?"

    "I was informed by powers whose knowledge is far more expansive than ours." Ratbat raised a hand to his helmet and projected a light from his visor. On the table, a gear-like symbol was displayed. "They will assist us in our endeavors as we will assist them in theirs."

    "And just how do we know you're not off your rocker?" asked Motormaster.

    "I don't think we're exactly in any position to question that now," Scrapper said. "Not when we're this far along."

    "I must agree," said Banzai-Tron. "If what Ratbat says is true, then we mustn't waste time arguing. What is thy bidding, my liege?"

    "See to Operation: Gestalt's completion as soon as possible," Ratbat replied. "In the meantime, I want you to send operatives to these designated locations."

    As he said this, he transmitted a file to Banzai-Tron's processor with a list of five planets.

    "Four of them are suspected locations for the remaining parts of the Emberstone. The last -- Earth -- is home to a device known as the Talisman."

    "You want us to retrieve it?" Banzai-Tron asked.

    "No, I want you to keep it safe, at least until our allies arrive to carry out the next stage of the agenda."

    "Which is...?"

    "Not for you to know at this point in time."

    Banzai-Tron sighed. "Very well. I shall organize my operatives accordingly."

    "And we shall continue our progress on Operation: Gestalt," said Scrapper. "I assure you that the project will be complete in no time, Lord Ratbat."

    "Let us hope so, for your sake," Ratbat said darkly. "The Grand Architect's patience is wearing thin."

CONVERGENCE

Part 1: Journey's End

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia VIII, Epilogue

EPILOGUE

--Earth--

    "Well... that was a very strange occurrence."

    "Agreed," AUTO intoned as he wheeled himself out of the repair lab, having been patched up after what had happened on the Axiom.

    "You missed out on the best of it though," Pox said, their hologram projecting alongside him. "Right before he vanished, Trypticon blew up this cube thing he had ripped out of Central Hall. Then, after he sort of... disappeared into space, we picked up WALL-E, EVE, and Violet. None of them were able to explain to us what had just happened."

    "And Central Hall's missing as well?"

    "Yup. Along with Ariel, Dion, and even Fearstorm and his goons. It's as if everything Cybertronian just... left."

    "I struggle to see a negative to that, considering the day I just had."

    "Yeah, I hear ya," Pox muttered. "The Axiom's still under repairs, but the others ships have landed safely. All of the humans, all of the robots... we're all safe."

    "Good." AUTO wheeled out of the Exodus onto Earth's verdant ground. Pox's form became almost invisible in the sunlight.

    "So... I guess things go back to normal, huh?"

    "Affirmative."

    Pox had to admit, normal didn't sound so bad.

*  *  *

    Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

    Opening her optics, Ariel saw that the hole Trypticon had made in Metroplex had magically resealed itself. Before she could even begin to ponder how such an occurrence could have happened, she noticed that rays of sunlight were seeping into the room. Was she still on Earth?

    Standing up, she gently placed Dion's body down before making her way to the front of the Titan. The doors opened up of their own accord and she shielded her optics from the sun. Once her visuals had adjusted, she saw that four Cybertronians were standing in front of her, all wearing shocked expressions.

    Springer inclined his head to Kup, whose jaw was practically hanging open. "Does this remind you of anything?"

    "Never seen anything like it in my life, lad."

--Trypticon--

    Kreok could not remember the last time things were this quiet.

    Where he expected to hear Crankcase gripe about the rust in his left arm plating, there was silence. Where he expected to hear Misfire brag about his new high score in Ninja Gladiator, there was silence. Where he expected to hear Spinister talk about the squirrels in his head, there was silence. Where he expected to hear Fulcrum tell him that everything was going to be all right....

    There was silence.

    Not a single soul spoke as Trypticon drifted aimlessly in space, having returned to the present day via the Warren. His quarry lost, the Decepticon Titan had not spoken since. Krok wasn't sure if he was even still online.

    Full-Tilt remained in his command chair, staring at the monitors which showed nothing but fields of stars. Every once in a while he would say something to the alleged "voice" in his head, but otherwise he acted as if he didn't even exist.

    Spacewarp kept to the corner of the room, huddled with her Mini-Cons. No doubt she was biding time until they reached some planet of value, at which point she would likely ditch the rest of them first chance she got. Krok wouldn't put it past her.

    As for Nickel... Krok could tell she was standing behind him. He didn't acknowledge her, not even when she rested a hand on his shoulder. It was only when she spoke that he begrudgingly did so.

    "Listen," the Mini-Con said softly. "I know what it's like to lose friends close to me."

    "Your friends were murderers," Krok grunted.

    Nickel sighed. "Not all of them. Some of them were actually quite nice."

    "Oh, yeah. Like when one of them killed one of my friends. That was real nice of them."

    "I'm not talking about the D.J.D. I'm talking about my friends back on Prion. About Buzzstrike, Bashbreaker and... and Lancelon."

    She sighed again, and for the first time in his life, Krok felt rotten inside. All of the atrocities he had committed as a Decepticon and he was feeling sorry for making a Mini-Con cry. What even was he anymore? He had thought he had known the answer to that, but now... now he had nothing left. Nothing but the people in this room.

    Without even thinking, he turned to Nickel and she fell into his arms, resting her head beneath his. He didn't care what looks the others were giving them, nor did either of them care how long this lasted. It was all they had left.

    None of them knew what awaited them among the distant stars... but that didn't matter right now.

    It could wait, as far as he was concerned.

DISTANT STARS: CONCLUDED

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia VIII, Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

--The Exodus--

    "Dion? This is Ariel. Do you copy?"

    The comm was dead silent; not even static was being picked up. Ariel frowned as she looked out towards Earth, knowing that the giant Decepticon Trypticon was somewhere down there, spreading destruction everywhere he stepped.

    Nearby, the Exodus' crew were in the process of transferring Pox from the Axiom to their systems. Even the autopilot was preoccupied, concerned for its brother unit. This would likely be her only chance to do what she was about to do.

    Eight years ago (or eight hundred depending on how you looked at it), she probably would not have been able to muster the courage to do anything like this... but she was a different person then. Ever since she lost Rampage, she had pushed herself to be stronger, braver... something that would have made him or Skids proud.

    Once the coordinates had been set, she began to make her way to the transmat pad. As she did, she overheard one of the crewmembers speak to the autopilot.

    "Something's interfering with the transfer."

    "Is the signal too weak?" asked the autopilot.

    "It's not that. It's more like... like it's not registering the Axiom's existence."

    Ariel did not stay around to hear more, reaching the transmat pad before anyone could notice her. Using a remote linked to the Exodus' computer, she activated the teleporter and was soon on her way to Earth.

--Trypticon--

    "Hang on a second." Krok stared at the monitors situated throughout the room, staring at the structure that Trypticon was slowly approaching. "That's Metroplex, isn't it?"

    The captain shrugged, not really paying attention. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. It won't matter in the end."

    "What are we going to do?" Nickel whispered to Krok. "Are we just going to let this guy do whatever it is he's trying to do? What about Fulcrum and the others?"

    "We don't exactly have many options," Spacewarp muttered. "We're practically locked in with this guy."

    "And that's another thing," Nickel said. "Who is 'this guy?' Does anyone know who he is?"

    "We could just ask him...."

    Krok looked over to the purple bot, who wasn't paying them much heed. Carefully, he approached the captain before clearing his vocal processor. "Excuse me...."

    "Full-Tilt," the bot spoke, startling Krok. "My name is Full-Tilt."

    "Ah." Krok took a step back. "Well, uh, Full-Tilt... mind telling us how you ended up here?"

    Full-Tilt sighed, still not meeting the Scavenger's eye. "I was a fool," he said quietly. "I was new to the Decepticon army, having ate up the rhetoric like a gullible protoform. One day, Shockwave approached me and told me I could be a vital part in bringing one of Megatron's plans to fruition. He wasn't wrong, of course... but I hadn't realized what cost it would come to."

    He patted his chestplate, beneath which his spark chamber rested. "For nearly a thousand years, I carried his spark with me. The dethroned one. The ousted tyrant. Through me, he was able to power Trypticon... and ultimately control him."

    "Wait a nanoklik," Spacewarp murmured. "You mean to tell us you had Trannis inside you?"

    "I did," Full-Tilt said. "I don't know if he's still in there. When he destroyed those... zombie things, it used up all his spark energy. However...." He tapped the side of his helmet. "I can still hear him. As well as the other voice, which I'd never heard until now."

    "Sounds like the Titan Master thing we just dealt with," Nickel said to Krok. "Maybe we can help him."

    Before Krok could reply, he heard a tiny voice utter: "Ee-vah."

    Looking down, he saw that the three Earth robots -- WALL-E, EVE, and Violet -- had suddenly become intangible, gradually fading away. As he struggled to comprehend what was happening, Krok saw on the monitors that Trypticon had made it to Metroplex... and was tearing a hole through the other Titan's armor....

--Earth--

    Ariel rematerialized within Metroplex just as a giant purple claw tore through the ceiling. Through the rain of debris, she was able to spot an orange and blue bot laying in front of a glowing cube.

    Dion. Avoiding falling chunks of metal, she made her way over to her fellow Autobot just as the claw seized the cube. Turning Dion onto his back, she saw that his optics were empty and that his armor plating was already beginning to fade to gray.

    "No...." She cradled her friend's body, not even noticing as Trypticon tore the Underbase free. "Not you, too."

    Shuttering her optics, she rested her head against Dion's. Outside, Trypticon pulled the Underbase out of Metroplex before activating his back thrusters. Ariel paid no heed to the shaking ground as the Decepticon Titan took for the sky; she continued to hold her departed friend even as everything around her began to fade away.

--Trypticon--

    "No." Full-Tilt gripped the arms of his seat. "No no no. Trypticon! What are you doing?"

    "Breaking the cycle," the Titan's voice reverberated.

    "No! Diac's orders were to unite it with the other half! If you take it back to the present--"

    "Then it will erase those two from existence," Trypticon growled, as WALL-E and EVE continued to dissipate. "And thus, by extension, Megatron."

    Krok had no idea what Megatron had to do with anything. All he knew was that something had to be done. To Full-Tilt, he said, "Is there any way you can override his systems?"

    Full-Tilt shook his head. "If there was, I would have found out about it long ago. Not much else for me to do here anyway."

    "Maybe we can blow up his processor," Spacewarp said. "That should disable him--"

    "You realize I can hear you, yes?" Trypticon rumbled. "There is nothing any of you can do."

    One by one, the monitors changed... and Krok could feel his spark sink. On one, Spinister laid on the floor, limbs torn from his body. On another, several Centurion droids surrounded Crankcase and Misfire and fired upon their helpless selves. Lastly, on a third screen, Fulcrum was ensnared in cables, screaming as they electrocuted him.

    "Your friends are dead, or soon will be," Trypticon snarled. "What hope could you possibly have of stopping me?"

    Krok knew he had no answer. Helplessness gripped him as his knees gave out and he fell to the deck. Neither Spacewarp or Nickel came to his side, not that he expected them to; he knew they were just as helpless as he was.

    "Now then," Trypticon said, "it is time to reclaim my empire."

*  *  *

    Through the haze of his pain, Fulcrum came to an epiphany.

    Decepticons like him -- K-Class Decepticons -- were never expected to survive. It would defeat their entire purpose. It was only thanks to sheer dumb luck that he was still functioning today, though he knew that wouldn't last for much longer.

    Despite this, however, he knew Megatron and his inner circle were never one to take chances; failsafes were like their bread and butter. The Scavengers had disarmed his bomb when they had found him, but who was to say he didn't have another wired somewhere within him; a backup just waiting to be triggered?

    He did not know for a fact... but it was enough to put him at ease in his final moments.

    As his last vital circuits began to fry, Fulcrum looked back to all of the moments he had had with his fellow Scavengers. Some of them were good, plenty of them bad... but he wouldn't have traded any of them for the world. They reminded him that he was alive, which was more than he could say for his fellow K-Cons.

    With a sad smile, Fulcrum greeted Death with open arms.

*  *  *

    The unexpected explosion rocked Trypticon just as he exited Earth's atmosphere, causing him to lose his grip on the Underbase. The Titan roared in rage as the cube fell back to the planet and he kicked on his back thrusters once more to take pursuit.

    Focused as he was on his objective, Trypticon did not notice as a third party accessed his weapons systems until it was too late. As he opened his mouth, a pair of rockets fired from his maw and struck the Underbase dead on. Trypticon's roar was drowned out by the resulting explosion, its force pushing back out into deep space...

    Deep within the Titan, Misfire stepped away from the damaged weapons console and collapsed onto the floor, having lost a majority of his armor plating to the explosion Fulcrum had caused.

    "Direct hit," his voicebox croaked. "Eat that, Crankcase."

    The Triggercon said nothing, his body crushed under the weight of the dead Centurion droid that had fallen atop of him.

    Misfire smiled proudly to himself as he looked up at the ceiling and shut off his optics.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia VIII, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

--Earth--

    "Why hasn't he done it yet?!" Fearstorm fumed as he watched Trypticon rise from where he had landed, already making his way towards the Underbase's location. "We gave him ample time! Is it really that difficult--"

    "Perhaps his attempts were met with resistance," Viral interjected. "The Underbase is much more than it presents itself to be."

    "Spare me," Fearstorm growled. "How hard can it be to destroy a simple cube?"

    "There's nothing simple about--"

    "Enough." Fearstorm grabbed Viral by the shoulder. "This planet is a lost cause. We should leave before it gets worse."

    "They're not going to be happy," Viral said quietly.

    "No," Fearstorm growled. "But evading them will only beget a far worse punishment. Best to report our failure and pray for a painless fate."

    "And the energy vampires?"

    "They've served their purpose. Now then, ready a transwarp jump."

    As Viral prepped his repaired transwarp device, Fearstorm glanced down at the red-eyed EVE probe they had brought with them. He regarded her coolly for a moment before drawing his gun and blasting the probe bot to smithereens.

    "We could have used it," Viral murmured.

    Fearstorm shook his head. "There's nothing of any worth on this planet. Not anymore."

    With that, he grabbed onto Viral's arm and the two warped into thin air.

--Trypticon--

    "I think we should go after them."

    Spinister blinked as he was suddenly reminded of Fulcrum's existence. Shifting his gaze from the ceiling to the K-Con, the helicopter bot said, "What?"

    "I think Krok was trying to call me earlier, but something's interfering," Fulcrum said. "We should probably go looking for them."

    Spinister shrugged, not caring enough to argue. "Fine."

    The two of them made their way through the dark corridors until they found an elevator, which took them to the next level up. When the doors slid open again, they were greeted with the sight of a deactivated Centurion unit, countless bullet holes lining its armor.

    "Oh, scrap," Fulcrum murmured.

    Spinister wasn't sure what had gotten the K-Con all shaken up until two more Centurion droids appeared from around the corner. Their weapons were already drawn and locked on the two Scavengers.

    "Intruders detected," one of them uttered. "Set weapons to--"

    Fulcrum ducked as Spinister fired off multiple shots from his gun. One shot blasted one of the units' head off while the rest pelted into the other's chassis. The remaining drone charged towards the two Decepticons, the orange barrel of its weapon glowing. Pushing Fulcrum aside, Spinister launched himself at the Centurion and grappled its clawed arms.

    "Go," he grunted out to Fulcrum. "Go find Krok and the others."

    "What?" Fulcrum sounded more surprised by Spinister's sudden eloquence than anything. "No, I can't just leave--"

    "Go, you idiot!" Spinister snapped. "Don't try and be a hero! You'll only die!"

    Thankfully, Fulcrum doesn't argue further. Once Spinister could no longer hear the patter of the K-Con's feet, he shifted his hold on the Centurion drone and grabbed it in a headlock.

    "Let's be clear on one thing: I'm not in a good mood."

    The Centurion struggled as he detached its weapon arm and let it clatter to the floor.

    "My friends -- if you can even call them that -- think I'm an idiot. And it's true; I am an idiot. The only thing is that I stopped pretending otherwise a long time ago.

    "See, I was pretty young when the Decepticons made their resurgence; fresh off the assembly line, I watched the illegal gladiator matches Clench held and started to develop the delusion that I could become the best Decepticon fighter there ever was. But the truth is... I'm not. I never was, and I never will be."

    He tightened his hold on the Centurion's head, causing the pistons in its neck to snap and hiss.

    "I realized that no one saw me the way I saw myself... so I stopped trying. If others thought I was an idiot, then I would simply act like one. Otherwise, I'd only be embarrassing myself. But as years turned into decades, and decades turned into centuries... I realized that acting stupid was so flipping easy, that I didn't even need to act. It took so little effort that I came to believe I really was that stupid.

    "And you know what? I'm fine with that. Really. Because it means I get to live in my own little world and not give a damn about anyone or anything else... and no one would call me out for it. But then you had to ruin it, because now you've made me actually give a damn."

    With a final snap, the Centurion's head came free and Spinister hurled it into the wall. At the same time, more of its type came marching down the hall, weapons primed and locked on the Scavenger.

    "I didn't care when Thundersaur died." Spinister drew his gun again, noting that it only had enough power for twelve shots. "I didn't care when Flywheels died. And up until now, I wouldn't have cared if any of the losers I've been stuck with for the last eight years went and bit it. But now, somehow, for some ungodly reason, you've managed to make me care. And I've got to tell you... I'm none too happy about it."

    As the Centurions fired upon him, Spinister squeezed the trigger of his gun and began counting every shot in his head....

*  *  *

    "Ha ha, got him. And I didn't miss once."

    Misfire allowed his remaining arm to fall as the Centurion droid did the same, joining its brothers on the floor. He looked over to Crankcase, who was still laying with both of his legs and a majority of his head missing. His brain module was still intact from what Misfire could tell, increasing the Triggercon's chances of survival by at least one percent.

    "You did good too, I guess." Misfire winced as he hobbled onto his feet, his calves having been stripped bare. "Anyway. Right. The guns."

    He had only taken two steps when he heard someone come running around the corner. Without thinking, he turned around and fired his gun... only to hit Fulcrum square in the chest.

    "Oh god!" Misfire quickly dropped his weapon. "What have I done?!"

    "I'm fine, you moron," Fulcrum grunted as he got back up. "K-Con plating is a bit sturdier than it may seem. Where's Crankcase?"

    "Right here." Misfire pointed to the dying Triggercon. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Should be, anyway. I think."

    Fulcrum opened his mouth as if to say something before shaking his head. "Whatever. It can wait. Have you disabled the guns yet?"

    "Yeah, I was just about to." There was a loud snap as Misfire's exposed leg pistons broke, causing him to fall to the floor. "Or, uh, maybe not...."

    "Don't worry, I've got it." Fulcrum stepped over his downed comrade and into the weapons control room. "Shouldn't be too hard...."

    "Have you done it before?" Misfire asked.

    "No," the K-Con admitted as he looked upon the many, many control panels and buttons that lit up the small dark room. "But, I mean, how hard can it--"

    Without warning, the door slid shut behind him, sealing him off from the other two Scavengers. As Fulcrum panicked, the ceiling burst open and a mass of cables cascaded down, ensnaring his arms.

    "Don't think I don't know what you're attempting to do," a deep voice rumbled. "I congratulate you for making it this far, but now... your journey must come to an end."

    "Trypticon, wait! It's me, Fulcrum! I'm--"

    "I know who you are," Trypticon growled. "I know what you are. And now, K-Con...."

    Fulcrum screamed as the cables blasted electricity into his body.

    "...you are going to fulfill your purpose at last."

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia VIII, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

--Trypticon--

    "I've lost contact with the Axiom."

    The dread he hard in EVE's voice was enough to give Krok pause. He had to admit, for human-made robots, they were remarkably independent and emotive, not unlike Cybertronians. What that said about either race, he wasn't quite sure.

    "I knew it," Violet muttered. "This was a trick all along. If we hadn't listened to you, then maybe--"

    "Then maybe you would've died with them," Spacewarp interjected. "Sorry to disappoint you, but we're not heroes. We didn't set out to save the day."

    "But this was your idea! If you hadn't suggested this or if AUTO hadn't--"

    "Enough," Krok said. "If we continue bickering, more are going to die at Trypticon's hands. Foldspace, are you picking up any Decepticon spark signatures?"

    "I haven't been scanning," the old Mini-Con replied. "Why, should I be?"

    "When my crew and I last dealt with Trypticon, there was another Decepticon serving on board. We had thought he had perished during the Unicron fiasco, but I don't think it would hurt to check."

    Foldspace shrugged before starting a scan. While they waited, Krok decided to raise the other Scavengers on his comm.

    "Misfire, any luck on those guns?"

    "Uh, we have an itsy-bitsy problem," Misfire answered.

    Krok groaned to himself. Of course. "What is it?"

    "There are two Centurion droids patrolling the halls. They're big, purple, and I'd bet my left optical sensor that there are others just waiting around the corner."

    "Great. Just great. Can you guys double back?"

    "Hang on, Crankcase is poking me," Misfire said. "What? What is it? Can't you just... oh, frag me."

    "Misfire?" Krok spoke in alarm. "What's going on? Misfire!"

    Static roared into his audio receptor. Frantically, Krok switched to another channel.

    "Fulcrum! Do you copy? I've lost contact with Misfire and Crankcase. Are you and Spinister--"

    More static greeted him before he could even finish speaking. As an overwhelming sense of dread fell over Krok, Foldspace looked up from his scanner, a grim look on his faceplate.

    "I'm picking up a spark signature," the Mini-Con said, pointing up ahead. "It's just down the hall."

    Krok could feel everyone's eyes on him as he tracked his gaze down the corridor, to the single door that awaited them. He couldn't help but feel that whatever lay beyond would mean the end for them all. Regardless, he pushed such fears aside and forced himself to start walking forward.

--Earth--

    Dion stared at his chronometer as the minutes ticked by. Fearstorm and the others were sure to already be out of range by now, and Trypticon was soon to be upon them all. He would have to time it just right to make sure the resulting blaster -- if there was going to be one at all -- consumed the Decepticon Titan.

    Or... he could not.

    Maybe, instead of doing what Fearstorm had asked of him, he could try and succeed where the Vehicon had failed. It was worth a shot -- far more than destroying it, in any case. And if he failed... well, at least he would rest easy knowing he had at least tried.

    Retracting his weapons, Dion stepped up to the Underbase and raised his hands to its glowing interface. He winced as his servos burned at the touch but he braced through the pain and pressed ahead. After a minute, wires began to sprout from the cube and wrapped around his arms, entangling them. Another cord snaked around his neck and plugged itself into the back of his head. Dion screamed, his optics flaring yellow, as a voice entered his mind.

    "Who dares to access the Underbase?"

    "I-- I--" Dion found it difficult to form even a basic sentence; it felt as if his microchip was frying from the mere contact alone.

    "I know who you are, Dion of Iacon Minor. Autobot of the Elite Guard. Space Ranger of Star Command. Time traveler. Interloper.

    "You are lost. You have no sense of belonging. An entire millennium of your life was a complete lie; lived under the impression you were someone else entirely. Dion, Sprint... I know who you are, but you yourself do not.

    "Now tell me: Do you know who we are?"

    The pain lessened enough for Dion to respond. "B-Boltax?"

    The Underbase laughed. "Only in part. His was the first mind to be uploaded into the Underbase, followed shortly by Decanus, Tallus, and Rokan. Had it not been for the fifth's betrayal, the Creators would have had complete, utter control of your -- our race. Alas, with the absence of the last component, the Creators' will was ultimately defied and they were driven off Cybertron.

   "Now, enlighten us: Why do you seek access to our knowledge?"

    "I... I need your help," Dion managed to answer. "Earth has fallen to these... these monsters, and a Titan is making its way here. I need to know how to stop them."

    "And why do you believe we would be of any use?"

    "You... you're the ultimate collection of Cybertronian knowledge. Is that not enough?"

    Another laugh. "It is never enough, child. While it is true that knowledge is power, what means have you to use that power? You are alone and defenseless, with time shortly running out."

    "But... surely there's a way to--"

    "A way to what? To prevent the inevitable? Life can't always proceed to your satisfaction. Sometimes, you have to simply let things happen as they must."

    Dion frowned. "That's not very good advice."

    "Yes, well, you try being the cumulative knowledge of a race that has been at war with itself for several millennia and see if you have an optimistic outlook on life."

    "So... that's it then?" Dion sighed. "There's nothing I can do?"

    "My child..."

    Outside, a devastating quake shook the ground, causing nearly all of the buildings beyond Central Hall to collapse. But Dion couldn't feel a thing.

    "Why do you think there's anything that must be done?"

--Trypticon--

    The door slid open of its own accord, allowing Krok and the others to enter the darkened room. At the center sat a solitary figure, clad head-to-servo in faded, slightly rusted purple armor plating. A red visor glowed from the recesses of his faceplate, carefully regarding the newcomers.

    "Ah," the old robot croaked. "How nice it is to see some familiar faces."

    Krok suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing Nickel to bump into his leg. "You," he said. "You're the captain."

    The bot chuckled, a raspy sound emitting from his vocal processor. "I hesitate to use that word. I've never really been in command of this 'vessel.' Trypticon simply does as he pleases."

    "What is he doing here then?" Spacewarp asked. "Did he follow us through the Benzene Cluster or something?"

    "No," the captain said. "We went through what some like to call the Warren; a network of quantum tunnels that span all of space and time."

    "I am familiar," Foldspace said, rubbing his chin. "I always thought it was a myth, but ever since we jumped ahead 800 years into the future...."

    "Why are you here then?" asked Nickel. "Why is Trypticon attacking the humans?"

    The captain's head twitched, his visor flickering. "I... we are here for the Underbase."

    "The Underbase?" Spacewarp echoed. "Are you glitching or something?"

    "You...." The mech shifted his gaze to WALL-E and EVE, who nervously backed away. "I know who you are. He's shown me."

    Spacewarp rolled her optics. "Yeah, he's glitching."

    "Enough." Krok stepped closer to the captain. "What's happened to my crew? Where are Fulcrum, Misfire, and the others?"

    The captain said nothing as everything shook around them. Monitors throughout the room lit up, revealing that Trypticon had finally made planetfall... and was already rising from his self-made crater, setting his sights on a familiar-looking structure.

    "Now," the voice of Trypticon rumbled. "It is time to end this, once and for all."