Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter Eleven

MAKING THE CUT

Impactor remembered his first day as a Wrecker well.

It was near the end of Cycle 6891 when he was recruited personally by Threnody. The Wreckers themselves had only been a round for a few months, having made a name for themselves for their successful if controversial campaigns against the Decepticons. Not long after the Battle of Vaporex had concluded, Impactor was greeted by Threnody’s shimmering holographic form and told that he had made the cut. Hearing this had amused Impactor, seeing as his commanding officer at Vaporex had chewed him out for slaughtering four unarmed Decepticons during the battle.

From that day forward, Impactor finally felt as if he belonged. No longer did he have to endure the chorus of disapproval every time he made a move that no one else was brave to; in fact, the others often encouraged his bloodthirstiness. “Sometimes, you have to do whatever it takes to get results,” Threnody would often tell him. “The sooner Sentinel Prime and the others realize that, the sooner we can end this war.”

Impactor lived by those words every functioning day. Even after Threnody was thrown into the X-Dimension, even after Sentinel Prime disbanded the Wreckers, Impactor lived by those words. He would always think less of whoever was in charge — whether it was Sentinel, Zeta, or Optimus — because he knew they could never be brave enough to do whatever it took and get results. Prime or not, they would have never made the cut.

That was why he was here now, teleporting into the Ultracon camp, and not Springer or Elita or Star Saber or anyone else in the Titan above. He was going to do whatever it took to buy them time to escape. He was going to make the cut.

As Impactor finished materializing, several Decepticons drew their guns and pointed them at him. Scorponok and Scourge stood in front of him, putting whatever argument they were having aside to focus on the intruder.

“For Primus’ sake, what is it now?!” Scorponok growled.

“I recognize you,” Scourge said quietly, narrowing his optics at the purple-and-yellow Autobot. “You’re one of the Wreckers. Impactor, isn’t it?”

Impactor glared at him. “Of course you recognize me. You know me, Optronix… assuming you really are in there.”

Scourge blinked at the sound of Megatron’s former name. “Ah, that’s right. My apologies; his memories can be difficult to sift through sometimes. I daresay some of them are even repressed. Tell me, did you get along with him well?”

“I’m not here to reminisce,” Impactor grunted, brandishing his harpoon. “I’m here to stop you.”

Scorponok laughed mirthlessly. “Stop us? You are vastly outnumbered. How could you possibly hope to stop us?”

“Who said anything about hope?”

Scorponok shook his head, smirking. “Typical Wrecker. Your rashness and bravado know no bounds. No wonder you have such low survival rates.”

“Tell you what,” Impactor snapped. “After I’m through with you guys, we can compare percentages.”

With that, he fired his harpoon at Scorponok’s face. The large Decepticon swiftly swung a claw at it and cut the blade off from its wire. Just as a savage grin crossed his face, he was struck in the helmet by a blaster bold courtesy of Impactor’s gun. The other Decepticons wasted no time in unloading their own weapons and Impactor charged head-first into the line of fire.

Banzai-Tron was the first to collide with him, foolishly placing himself between the Wrecker and the two Decepticon leaders. Pulling the Ultracon in with his harpoon-less arm, Impactor fired several shots into Banzai-Tron’s head before pushing him to the ground. Shatter moved next, lunging at him with a dagger held high above her head. Impactor narrowly dodged the blade in time, scraping against the back of his head. He then tackled Shatter to the ground and pinned her there as he raised his gun and shot down two more incoming Decepticons.

“Stop!” Scourge cried. “Hold your fire!”

The Decepticons did as commanded, though not without a fair number of confused looks. Even Scorponok was regarding Scourge with a perplexed expression.

“It’s obvious you’re trying to buy your friends time to escape,” Scourge said, carefully stepping up to Impactor and the downed Shatter. “Why else would you be doing some thing so brash, so stupid?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Impactor growled through gritted dental plates. “Is it so hard to believe that I just really want you dead?”

“Oh, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that it worked.”

Impactor raised a confused optic ridge before looking up to see that there was one less Titan in the sky. Metroplex had already departed and was but a shrinking dot in the sky of Verenya.

“Huh,” he muttered. “I expected them to stick around longer than that.”

“Shouldn’t we have Trypticon take pursuit?” Scorponok asked.

Scourge shook his head. “No need. As far as I know, Metroplex is essentially a flying corpse. Without a spark, he poses no real threat to us.”

“But the Autobots—”

“Forget them. They will be dealt with as need be.”

Scorponok started to shake as he fumed. “See, this is why you — why Megatron never got anything accomplished as leader! If you had just killed Prime whenever you had the chance, we would have conquered Cybertron centuries ago!”

Impactor couldn’t help but be amused. Clearly Scorponok’s take on Megatron was not much different from his own feelings on Optimus Prime.

“Come now, Scorponok,” Scourge said. “Surely you, of all bots, know the meaning of patience. How long have you been running your operations here on Earth?”

The larger Decepticon flexed his claws. “Too long.”

“And how many successes have you had since then?”

Scorponok laughed. “Oh, more than you would like to think, I’m sure. In fact, I have one such accomplishment with me right now.”

Scourge turned to him with an expectant look. “You don’t say?”

“I do.” Scorponok grinned widely as he opened his chest compartment. “And after a mere nineteen years of work, I can proudly say….”

He reached into the compartment… and froze. All smugness vanished from his face, replaced with shock as he rummaged around in the cavity. “No. No!” He extended his sensors to look within his chest, only to find nothing. “WHERE IS SHE?!”

As Scorponok continued to search in vain for his project, a disinterested Scourge returned his attention to Impactor. “While Scorponok continues to embarrass himself, would you mind removing yourself from Shatter? There’s no need for theatrics at this point.”

“Give me one good reason,” Impactor grunted. “And that reason better be you offering yourself up for execution.”

Scourge sighed, though Impactor knew it was merely for show. “And here I was hoping you could be reasoned with. Would someone mind restraining him?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Dropping his gun, Impactor clenched his fist and began to charge up the gauntlet again. Moving in a blur, he jumped off of Shatter and threw himself at Scourge, colliding into the dark clone of Optimus.

A flash of energy surrounded them both as they were transported across the galaxy. When everything cleared, the pair found themselves situated on the edge of a massive smelting pool. A red, molten liquid bubbled beneath them.

“You remember this place, don’t you, Optronix?” Impactor said, grinning mirthlessly. “Lucifer. Former throne-world of Straxus. The planet where you first died.”

Scourge narrowed his optics. “I don’t recall ever losing my life here.”

“I was being metaphorical. The day you were captured by the Decepticons here was the last time I ever saw the Autobot I knew. The Optronix who came back — who started calling himself “Megatron” — was nothing but a monster.”

“I thought you did not want to reminisce,” Scourge said pointedly.

Impactor chuckled dryly. “I just wanted to take a quick nostalgia trip before I ended you for good.”

With that, he moved to push Scourge into the smelting pool only to feel a sharp pain through his chest. His internal sensors scrambled, he could barely register the blade-like arm jutting from his chest before it was retracted. He fell to his knees as energon poured from his wound.

“No.” He coughed, sputtering oil onto the floor. “It wasn’t… s’posed to be like this.”

“I’m afraid not everyone can have a dramatic end, old friend,” Scourge said quietly. “Even bots of your caliber can die in stupid, pointless ways.”

Impactor laughed, despite the agony it caused him. “Ah, I wouldn’t go that far. Besides, this is only my second time dying. Someone gave me a second chance and… honestly? I’d say it was worth it.”

Scourge scoffed. “I fail to see how.”

“’Course you don’t.” Impactor shook his head. “If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed about you, Optronix, it’s your inability to see pass your own ego.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Scourge muttered. “If there’s an Afterspark, I hope you enjoy your permanent stay there.”

“I hope so, too.” Impactor smiled. “If I see Kiloton, I’ll tell her you said hi.”

A raged cry filled his audio sensors as Scourge grabbed him by the neck and hurled into him into the smelting pool. The molten liquid bubbled as it accepted him into its embrace.

*  *  *

Viral watched as Impactor sank beneath the surface of the smelting pool. As soon as he had seen the Wrecker throw himself at Scourge, he had traced their trajectory and used his own Transwarp drive to follow them here to Lucifer. Viral hadn’t even realized the smelting pools on Lucifer were still active, what with Straxus being long gone and the Decepticons having largely abandoned their territory.

In any case, he pushed such concerns to the back of his mind as Scourge turned to face him. His arm still wet with Impactor’s energon, Viral dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“I live to serve you, my liege.”

Scourge regarded him carefully with cold red optics. “Why did you do it?”

“To save you, of course.”

Scourge shook his head. “No, there’s more to it than just that. I’ve read up on your files, Viral. I know all about your attempt to usurp one of Shockwave’s schemes for your own personal gain. Why now have you decided to put another’s life before your own? You could have easily allowed Impactor to kill me.”

Viral spared a moment to choose his next words carefully. “All my life I’ve been living in Shockwave’s shadow. All of my attempts to impress him have been rejected and he has denounced me as a failure. Since then, I’ve had no motivation to proceed with my ambitions and I had resigned myself to serving the Grand Architect for the rest of my life. But when I realized just who you were, after Fearstorm and I encountered you… I saw an opportunity to finally find meaning again.”

“So you’re trading one master for another.” Scourge raised an optic ridge. “Have you no sense of independence?”

Viral shook his head. “I tried to make something of myself, on my own, but that did not do me any good. In fact, it is the reason for why I’m in the predicament I’m in now.”

Scourge hummed softly to himself. “You remind me of Starscream.”

Viral tensed. Those words could not be further from a compliment.

“Still,” Scourge went on, “I suppose I could have use for another sycophant. Considering how controversial my return appears to be with Scorponok, I could use someone by my side until my return to power is solidified.”

“Whatever you ask of me, it shall be done,” Viral said.

“We shall see,” Scourge murmured, though it sounded more like he was speaking to himself. “We shall see.”

*  *  *

Sari breathed heavily as she tried to stop her heart from pounding. She didn’t know how long she had been running, but she had gotten far away enough from the city and into the forest on the outskirts that she could stop and take a brief rest.

She still wasn’t sure how she had gotten out of Scorponok’s compartment. Something within her had just awakened and before she knew it she was on the ground, watching as a large purple-and-yellow robot shot at the Decepticons. She took advantage of the momentary distraction and fled from the city, never stopping to look back. As far as she knew, no one had spotted her.

Leaning against a tree for support, Sari wiped sweat from her brow as she looked back towards Verenya. Part-machine or not, she definitely still had all of the weaknesses of the average human. She didn’t know how long she would be able to survive out on her own, in a part of the world she was not familiar with. Unless she found another place of civilization, there would be no way for her to make it back home or to the Autobots.

Did she even have a home to go back to? She still had no idea what had befallen her father or if Jack and her friends were even still alive. Even if she made it back to America, would she still have a place to call home?

Before such thoughts could consume her, a large gust of wind blew into her face. As she shielded herself from the leaves and dirt being thrown at her, she spotted a large green, claw-shaped spaceship landing somewhere deep in the forest, bringing down some of the trees with it. Once the vessel had landed and settled, a ramp lowered from it and a giant spider crawled out, followed by a brown, non-feathered dinosaur of some kind.

God, can this day get any weirder?

“We’re here,” the Velociraptor snarled, glaring at the huge arachnid. “Now would you care to explain yourself?”

“You heard the message, Dinobot,” the spider replied, clicking its mandibles. “Megatron had returned. The Decepticons are regathering.”

“But we are not Decepticons!” squawked a red pterosaur, flying out of the ship. “We are Predacons! Why should we bother rejoining our Cybertronian brethren?”

“Who said anything about rejoining? No, this is merely an opportunity to progress with our own plans. We feign allegiance with Megatron until we can gain access to the Talisman and use it to bring back our true leader.”

“When you say ‘our plans,’ you really mean ‘your plans,’ don’t you, Tarantulas?” Another spider — a black widow — came up from behind Dinobot. “As far as I know, the only one who had a clear plan in his head was Gnashteeth, and he’s not here.”

Tarantulas clicked his mandibles again in irritation. “So narrow-sighted you are, Blackarachnia. Once everything comes to fruition, you will look back to this moment and thank me.”

“Over my dead body,” Blackarachnia hissed.

“That can easily be arranged.”

“Enough!” Dinobot snarled. “We are not alone.”

Sari froze as the raptor turned its eyes towards her. Before she could make a move, the pterosaur swooped in and picked her up. She screamed as it brought her towards the rest of the Predacons and dropped her in front of Tarantulas.

“Another one of your experiments, eight-eyes?” Terrorsaur asked. “She’s registering as part-Cybertronian.”

Sari’s heart began drumming against her chest once more as Tarantulas leaned in closer to her.

“Oh, my,” he whispered. “This is… this is more than I could ever dream of.”

“That’s not saying much,” muttered Blackarachnia. “Your dreams are twisted.”

Ignoring the remark, Tarantulas gingerly picked Sari up with his pincers and began walking back towards the ship.

“Stop!” Sari cried. “Where are you taking me?”

“Quiet,” Tarantulas hissed. “I’ll come back for you once everything is—”

“No! I’m sick and tired of being treated like some… some… science subject! Let me go!”

Without warning, Tarantulas transformed into his robot mode. His pincers became his claws as he held Sari up to his hideous face, visor glowing with annoyance.

“Now listen here, fleshbag,” the Predacon growled. “If you don’t silence yourself, I will gladly remove your head and study everything else.”

“I said— LET ME GO!”

A blast of energy burst from Sari’s chest. Tarantulas let out a pained scream as he released Sari and let her fall to the floor. Except she didn’t fall; she was hovering in place with newfound wings keeping her afloat. The rest of her body had converted into its more mechanical appearance and a faceplate had fallen over her face. She looked down at her arms just as a pair of blades extended from them.

You’re obviously a killer machine, a voice spoke up in her head. Now act like one.

As she saw Tarantulas moving to grab her again, she lunged without thinking and plunged her blades into the Predacon’s chest. As the spider howled in pain, she kicked herself off and activated a pair of thrusters on the bottom of her feet, blasting out of the ship. Having had absolutely no practice in flying like a superhero, she zig-zagged along the way, banging into walls and pistons before finally making it out into the forest. After flying past the other Predacons, she burst out of the forest canopy and began flying in the only direction she could think of: west.

She could only hope that she had enough fuel or energon or whatever to make it home. Once there, she would be able to collect her thoughts before deciding on how to proceed.

For better or for worse, her life had changed forever. It was time to make the best of it.