What do you get when you cross quarantine with mini-break from college? Extra long chapters!
UNRAVELING
“We have a lock on Scorponok and his Decepticons,” Elita-One said to the assembled Autobots and Maximals in Metroplex’s command center. “They are down below in the city of Verenya. Our fellow Autobots Jazz, Cliffjumper, and Mirage — as well as our human ally Sari — are also down there. The last thing I want to do is to bring harm to any of them, so here’s how we’re going to do things:“A group of us — no more than ten — are going to head down to meet with Scorponok. Provided he doesn’t attack us, we’re going to kindly ask that he releases our allies. If he doesn’t, then you can guess how things will go from there.”
“And if he does?” asked Impactor.
“Then it will serve as proof that the universe has no limit to the amount of surprises it can spring upon us,” Elita replied. “Does anyone have any questions before we move forward?”
“Actually,” Skids spoke up, “I think Rung has something to say to us.”
All optics were on the orange psychiatrist bot, who shifted slightly from all of the attention. Elita tilted her head with an intrigued expression. “Very well, Rung. Please step forward.”
Rung dipped his head as he slowly stepped to the front of the room. He took a moment to look upon the gathered Autobots — some of them friends, some of them former patients — before taking a deep breath to cool his internal fans.
“For the longest time, my alternate mode and function has been as much a mystery to me as it has been to you all,” he began, his voice soft yet loud enough for them all to hear. “When the Functionists evaluated me, they classified me as an ornament because they had no idea what I turned into. As far as they were concerned, I shouldn’t have even existed because I served no apparent purpose.
“That all changed when I ended up in Tyrest’s custody. He revealed to me that I had the ability to create photonic crystals — the same photonic crystals used to store spark energy derived from the Matrix of Leadership, leading to the creation of cold-constructed bots. After the Matrix went dry, Nova Prime had my memories erased so that my ability could not be exploited.
“Of course, that still left the question of my alternate mode. I’ve discovered for myself that I can create the crystals without needing to transform, so what was my alt mode for?”
“To cure Dire Wraith-infected Autobots!” Swerve shouted from the back of the room.
Rung smiled. “Funny you bring that up, Swerve, because that is related to—”
“Hold on a nano-second,” Nightbeat interjected, a wide grin on his face. “Can I just… can I be the one to say it? Because I think I just solved it.”
“Nightbeat,” an exasperated Star Saber started.
“No, no.” Rung shook his head. “It’s quite all right. Please, Nightbeat.”
The detective’s arms were shaking as he raised them to point at Rung. His face looked like it was about to be split in half by his smile. “You created the Matrix of Leadership.”
“Correct.”
“YES!” Nightbeat pumped his fist, doing it so hard that he hit Skids in the abdomen with his elbow. A wave of confusion washed over the rest of the crowd.
“I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly?” Whirl asked. “Are you telling me Eyebrows here made the freakin’ Matrix?”
“I can’t say I remember ever doing it,” Rung admitted. “However, it would explain a lot; why I can create photonic crystals, why I was able to cure Thunderclash and the others of Dire Wraith infection….”
Star Saber rubbed his chin. “It would also explain why Tyrest and whoever he’s working with are so interested in you. They must want you to create another Matrix for them.”
“Yeah, should I mention that Fearstorm and Viral paid us a visit earlier?” Skids said, rubbing his dented midsection. “They were scared off by some voice talking in their heads.”
“Oh, good, so I’m not the only one going crazy.”
All eyes shifted from Rung to a green Decepticon jet standing with Impactor and his Wreckers. Fractyl was bouncing nervously on the heels of his feet, his chin permanently rested on his hand.
“What are you saying, Fractyl?” asked Springer.
“I just heard Megatron’s voice,” the green jet said quietly. “He was telling all of us Decepticons to gather here on Earth.”
“I heard it too,” murmured the former double agent Punch. “I didn’t pay much attention to it because… well, I’m used to hearing voices in my head that aren’t my own.”
“Impossible,” Elita muttered, an aghast look on her face. “Optimus told me he died when they turned him into Guiltaur.”
“Well, we know that Guiltaur is on the loose now,” commented Arcee. “And that he’s going by the name ‘Scourge’ now.”
“God, how many names can a bot have?” asked Sandstorm. “Sounds like an identity crisis just waiting to happen.”
“This greatly complicates things,” Star Saber said, looking at Elita. “If Megatron has somehow returned, and the Decepticons are converging here on Earth….”
Elita grimaced. “Then we might end up needing an extra Matrix.”
* * *
“Come on, you old fool… answer me already!”Scorponok growled to himself as he paced back and forth, scowling at his hand-held holoprojector. Metroplex continued to hover in the sky like some vast, predatory bird. Banzai-Tron and the others scrambled like robo-chickens without heads. He wasn’t concerned with either of those things; at least not until he got the answers he desired.
He’s not back. He’s not back. Scorponok repeated these words like a mantra in his mind. He refused to accept the mere prospect that Megatron was alive and ready to retake control. It would upset everything Scorponok and the Grand Architect had been working towards. After so many setbacks and failures, he would not allow for another one to take hold.
At last, the holo-projector lit up and displayed the signature emblem of the Grand Architect. When Scorponok’s enigmatic superior spoke, there was a hint of irritation in his voice. “What is it?”
“Grand Architect!” Scorponok snarled. “Something foul is afoot!”
“Is there?” The Grand Architect could not have sounded more disinterested. “Please, elaborate.”
“We have heard Megatron’s voice. All of the Decepticons — including myself — have heard him, ordering us to converge on Earth.”
“Oh, so you’ve gotten the message? Excellent.”
Scorponok’s face clouded with confusion. “What—? Are you saying this was planned?!”
“Of course it was,” the Grand Architect said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s why I needed you and the Ultracons to establish a presence on Earth, so as to make this phase of the plan proceed more smoothly.”
Scorponok was at a loss for words. All he could do was stare at the gear-shaped symbol as he envisioned all of his plans — his century’s worth of plans — crashing down upon him.
“Is there anything else you wish to tell me?” the Grand Architect asked. “Or have you finished wasting my time?”
Forcing himself to return to reality, Scorponok replied in a quiet, almost monotonic voice. “The Autobots have arrived in one of their Titans. We are planning to use the Talisman on it.”
“I would strongly suggest against that. The Talisman is vital to our plans and we can’t risk wasting it on some Autobots.”
“But… they have a Titan! We don’t!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Scorponok!” Banzai-Tron called from behind. “Reinforcements have arrived!”
Scorponok did not move his gaze from the Grand Architect’s insignia even as it dissipated and the holo-projector switched off. Even when the giant form of Trypticon materialized in the sky, still Scorponok remained standing. Unmoving.
* * *
“We have a Titan-sized problem.”“Ya’ don’t say, Cliff’?” Jazz asked as he and the other two stared up at Trypticon, who had just materialized in the sky seconds after they had emerged from the underground chamber. “’Cause I’m pretty sure we all can see that.”
“Let’s get a move on,” Mirage said. “I see Metroplex up there as well; that must be Elita and the others.”
Jazz and Cliffjumper followed him through the abandoned streets of Verenya, moving closer towards Metroplex’s position while avoiding detection from the Decepticons. Fortunately, it seemed like the ‘Cons were preoccupied with the sudden arrival of two Titans that they didn’t have time for three escaped Autobot prisoners.
As they sneaked past the main Decepticon camp — where Scorponok and the others were — Jazz spotted a black truck with red-tinted windows rolling towards them. Not sure if it had seen them as well, Jazz ushered the other two into a hiding spot behind a nearby building, from which they watched the black truck as it approached the camp.
“Hey, I recognize that truck,” Cliffjumper whispered. “Isn’t that Nemesis—”
Jazz shushed him as he continued to watch the truck. It rolled into the camp without disturbance, likely because the Decepticons were too busy to deal with intruders especially when those intruders already looked like one of their own. The truck then transformed and assumed a robot form that bore a distinct resemblance to Optimus Prime, albeit in black and silver rather than red and blue. As the dark copy of Prime began to approach Scorponok, Jazz increased the sensitivity of his audio sensors in order to pick up on their conversation.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the evil Optimus began.
Scorponok whirled around to face him, his face contorting with rage. “And just who do you think you are?”
“You don’t recognize me? I suppose we’ve never been formally introduced. You may call me Scourge.”
“Scourge.” Scorponok spoke the name with distaste. “I remember you. You were a virus Megatron created to corrupt his brother, before he became Optimus Prime. Have you taken control of Prime’s body once again?”
“Oh, no. I was removed from his body quite some time ago. This body I have now is… more unique, I’d like to say, though it is somewhat of an amalgamation.”
“Fascinating. I wish I could find it in me to say that I care, but I really don’t. State your business here before I permanently remove you from my list of today’s annoyances.”
“Is that any way to speak to your leader?”
Scorponok moved with a start at the sudden change in Scourge’s voice. Jazz frowned as well, finding something in the dark clone’s tone to be frighteningly familiar.
“If it’s all the same to you,” Scourge went on, “I think it would be prudent for me to assume command of your operations.”
“You will command nothing,” Scorponok retorted, his large frame shaking. “I am in control here!”
“Have you not gotten the message, then? I thought Megatron had returned—”
“HE’S NOT BACK!” Scorponok swung a clawed arm at Scourge and knocked him to the ground. All of the other Decepticons stopped what they were doing to witness the display.
“Megatron is dead!” Scorponok bellowed. “You are all being deceived! The Grand Architect is lying to you!”
“I thought you served the Grand Architect,” stated Banzai-Tron.
“That was before I realized how foolish I was to throw myself in with him,” Scorponok growled. When Scourge started to stir, the larger Decepticon brought his foot upon him, pinning him to the ground. “But now… I’ve decided it would be best if I took matters into my own hands.”
Scourge chuckled, despite the large foot pressing into his chest. “Egotistical as ever. I should expect nothing less from you, Scorponok.”
Scorponok sneered at him. “You know nothing about me, clone.”
“Nothing at all? Not even about how you were defeated in the pits of New Kaon?”
Shock washed over Scorponok as he removed his foot from Scourge and staggered back. The larger Decepticon watched with his mouth agape as Scourge rose to his feet and casually dusted himself off.
“How… how do you know…?”
“I know everything about you that Megatron does,” Scourge calmly replied. “His memories are mine as mine are his. This body is his as much as it is mine.”
Scorponok’s horrified expression matched the one Jazz was wearing. Cliffjumper noticed and frowned at his fellow Autobot.
“What’s going on?” asked the red Autobot.
“I think we have something worse than a Titan-sized problem,” Jazz murmured.
“And what’s that?”
“A Megatron-sized problem.”
* * *
“Elita—”“I see it, Jetfire. Everyone can see it.”
“I’m not talking about Trypticon,” Jetfire said. “I was going to say that I’ve found Jazz, Mirage, and Cliffjumper.”
Elita redirected her attention from Trypticon, who hovered in front of them in his ship mode, to look at Jetfire. “You have?”
“They’re right below us, give or take a few miles. Is there anyway we can bring them aboard without attracting unwanted attention?”
“We’ve still got Brainstorm’s teleportation gauntlet,” said Nautica. “We never ended up using it because Skids kind of rescued himself.”
“Emphasis on ‘kind of,’” Skids muttered.
“May I do the honors?” asked Thunderclash, raising a gauntlet-covered hand.
Elita exchanged a glance with Star Saber, who merely nodded in response. “Fine,” she said. “Just be careful.”
Without another word, Thunderclash clenched his fist and charged up the gauntlet. Within seconds, he was gone with a flash of light. Elita then turned back to Jetfire.
“Any movement from Trypticon or Scorponok’s camp?”
“Nothing yet,” Jetfire answered. “It’s almost as if they’re waiting for something.”
“What about Sari? Any sign of her?”
“Her signal is smack dab in the middle of where Scorponok and the others are. In fact, it seems as if her signature moves whenever Scorponok’s does.”
Elita grimaced. “He must be holding her in his chest compartment. Sideswipe told me that was where he put her when he captured her.”
“So, what?” asked Primal Major. “Do we teleport a Mini-Con into his chest and grab her? Do we even have a Mini-Con on board?”
“Doesn’t that Spacewarp lady carry a Mini-Con around with her?” piped up Swerve.
“Yes, but no one’s seen her, Krok, or Nickel since the Dire Wraith incident,” Star Saber said. “I’m starting to worry they might have heard Megatron’s message and left us already….”
“You only wish that were so, Autobot.”
Everyone turned to see the three aforementioned Decepticons enter the command center. Some of the Autobots tensed up but none of the Decepticons showed any signs of hostile intent.
“So, what was this about teleportation I was hearing?” asked Spacewarp.
“We believe that a human ally of ours is being held in Scorponok’s chest compartment,” Elita explained. “We’re wondering if we can teleport someone small enough into his chest and rescue her.”
“Do you even have something that can teleport someone?” asked Krok.
“We have a gauntlet, which Thunderclash is already using.” Elita glanced at Brainstorm. “I don’t suppose it can work on a Mini-Con as well?”
Brainstorm rolled his optics. “Considering that I didn’t design it with Mini-Cons in mind and that the risk of having your atoms scattered is already high for a normal-sized bot, I wouldn’t exactly recommend it.”
Springer pointed at Spacewarp. “What about that thing you used to get rid of the Star Seekers and Leo Prime’s followers back on Earth?”
“You mean the Transwarp Blaster?” She shook her head. “It can’t send anyone to a pre-set destination. It’s always random; your chances of ending up in Scorponok’s chest are equal to ending up in a black hole.”
“Great. So what does that leave us with?”
Before anyone could answer, there was another flash of light as Thunderclash rematerialized in the room, this time joined by Jazz, Cliffjumper, and Mirage. Thunderclash wore a proud look on his golden face while the other three had more dour expressions.
“That didn’t take long,” Thunderclash said. “I’d say that’s a record time for a swift rescue—”
“Elita, we have a problem,” Jazz said, quickly stepping up to her.
“I’m well aware of Trypticon’s presence, Jazz.”
“It’s not just Trypticon; Megatron’s returned. He’s somehow possessing Nemesis Prime — Scourge — whatever his name is!”
“Scrap.” A dark cloud fell over Elita’s face. “This complicates things severely.”
“Give me a break,” Impactor growled, scraping his harpoon attachment against the wall. “We’ve got over two hundred Autobots and a Titan. They’ve only got half that amount of Decepticons and a Titan. We can beat them! We’ve gotten through worse.”
“Except Sari would be in the middle of it all,” Elita said. “Techno-organic or not, she is still more fragile than any of us. Even if we don’t accidentally kill her while fighting Scorponok, Scorponok could just as easily kill her or use her as a bargaining chip or something.”
Impactor scowled. “For spark’s sake, would you forget about the stupid human? If Megatron is down there, he needs to be stopped once and for all! This may be our only chance!”
Elita frowned disapprovingly at him. “I am not risking the life of an innocent human for anything, even if it means killing Megatron. Optimus wouldn’t do it—”
“Guess what? None of us are Optimus. Stop beholding yourself to his values. If it wasn’t for Prime’s self-righteousness, Megatron would have been dealt with centuries ago!”
“Impactor,” Springer said sternly. “Stand down.”
“Don’t you start giving me orders!” Impactor snapped, waving his harpoon arm at his successor. “You lost that right when you sold me out at Pova!”
“I didn’t sell you out; I brought you to justice.”
“Justice?! For doing what’s right?! Give me a break.” Without warning, Impactor turned to Thunderclash and grabbed his covered hand, pulling the gauntlet off. “I guess I’ll just have to do things myself.”
“Impactor, stop!” Springer drew his sword, ready to lunge at his former mentor and predecessor. “You’re better than this! Don’t be stupid!”
“I want you all to do me a favor and get your asses to Cybertron,” Impactor went on as he placed the gauntlet over his servo. “Whatever is brewing here, we aren’t prepared for any of it. Go back to Cybertron and tell Rodimus what’s happening. I’ll buy you some time.”
“No! Impactor, don’t—!”
Springer moved to cut Impactor’s arm off but was too late. The veteran Wrecker clenched his fist and teleported away, blinding everyone with a flash of light.
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