Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XII, Chapter Twelve

SQUARE ONE

Everything was falling into place. Finally.

The ores had been recovered. Those of Elonia and Tsiehshi had been successfully recovered; the Solstar Order had been no match for the overwhelming Terrorcons and defenseless Tsiehshi had been simple enough to procure. The Decepticons on Cybertron had provided the Autobots with a large enough distraction that they were unable to answer Devisiun’s cry for help as Amalgamous Prime and his forces invaded the colony and got what they needed. Fortunately, Amalgamous had shown enough restraint and had left behind only a couple hundred casualties in his wake.

The Emberstone was complete. Banzai-Tron’s operatives had been rather prompt in retrieving the four missing fragments of the Emberstone. The Grand Architect was almost ashamed to admit that he had underestimated them initially and had been ready to send his Lunarians to retrieve the fragments themselves. In any case, he couldn’t complain; the lost artifact of Quintus Prime was finally in his possession.

The Talisman was secure. Scorponok and the Ultracons had done a good job of keeping it out of the Autobots’ reach, and with a reborn Megatron and his new Decepticon Empire now in the picture, it would be even more difficult for the Autobots to upset his plans.

Megatron’s return was another success in of itself. As much of a nuisance they had been, the Titan Masters had played right into the Architect’s hands by freeing Guiltaur and attempting to uncover Megatron’s personality. The message had already been fabricated and planted long before then, with the intent of tricking the Decepticons into ending up under his command. But now that Megatron had actually returned — one way or another — only made things easier for him.

The loss of Rung was the only setback that the Grand Architect could perceive. It was the only setback so far but a major one, nonetheless. The Matrix that he was meant to create was a pivotal component of the plan; without it, everything the Grand Architect had done would be for naught.

The Benzene was nearly clear. The God Gun was complete, waiting to receive the ores. Everything was almost in place. Rung was the only missing piece.

His patience was wearing thin. Perhaps it was time for him to be more… direct with his approach.

It would be incredibly risky, especially for him. But it was more or less guaranteed to get results. And results were what he needed more than anything.

His decision made, the Grand Architect made his move.

*  *  *

“What’s going on? Why are we moving?”

“I don’t know!” Jetfire raised his hands, stepping away from Metroplex’s controls. “He just… he just started moving by himself!”

“That’s impossible.” Elita-One stepped over to stare at the monitor. “Metroplex is dead. How can he—”

“Wait,” Thunderclash spoke up. “How can Metroplex be dead? We’re flying in him right now!”

“A friend of mine destroyed his spark a couple of years ago,” muttered Krok. “I guess the rest of him is operating fine, but don’t expect him to transform any time soon.”

“Get me footage of his spark chamber,” Elita ordered Jetfire. “See if there’s something going on down there.”

“There is no need.”

Everyone’s attention was directed to a small purple figure standing in the doorway to the command center.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” the diminutive robot said. “I needed to get your attention somehow.”

“Take us back,” Elita snapped. “Our friends are down there and in trouble.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“Wait, I know that voice.” Skids eyed the stranger carefully. “You’re Blackrock. Garrison Blackrock, right?”

“That was my ‘human’ name. I prefer to be called Sovereign, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Big name for such a tiny bot,” remarked Whirl. “What gives you the idea of coming in and hijacking our ship?”

“We needed to get you off Earth and away from the Decepticons,” Sovereign replied. “None of you realize the power they contain down there.”

“Hang on a minute; who’s we?” asked Springer.

“Myself and my fellow Titan Masters.”

At that, several of the Autobots — as well as Krok and Spacewarp — drew their weapons and pointed them at Sovereign. The tiny purple bot regarded them all with a passive look.

“I understand that you are not on friendly terms with us,” he calmly stated. “However, now is not the time for old grudges—”

“Old?!” snapped Brainstorm. “You stole our heads, like, last week!”

“…We all have a common enemy: the Grand Architect.”

“What do you know about the Grand Architect?” asked Star Saber, carefully stepping forward.

“Not much more than you, I’m sure,” Sovereign said. “We made a deal with him via the Destructons and Scorponok to help us procure the Underbase. However, our plans for the Underbase have fallen through and we ended up terminating our alliance with the Grand Architect. Needless to say, he didn’t take it well and we were forced to escape our base of operations when Scorponok attacked and took the Underbase for himself.”

“What were your plans for the Underbase?” asked Elita.

Sovereign hesitated for a moment before speaking. “We… were fulfilling the will of our master, Onyx Prime.”

Many in the room reacted to the name in surprise. “Onyx Prime?” Elita repeated. “I thought he and the other Primes were pursuing Liege Maximo.”

“Ah. So you know about that, then.” Sovereign rubbed his chin with intrigue. “Well, in any case, he wanted us to access the Underbase and download everything it knew about Cybertron’s ancient history, especially that surrounding the Primes. He wanted us to broadcast the information to every Cybertronian and expose the Primes for the faulty dynasty they are.”

Primal Major frowned in confusion. “That sounds… incredibly hypocritical.”

“I agree. That is part of the reason why we decided to abandon our base; I had come to realize that there was no point in serving a member of a dynasty we were trying to expose and break down.”

“And just what is it that Onyx is up to now?” Skids asked. “Is he chasing Liege Maximo or is he doing this whole anti-Prime thing?”

Sovereign lowered his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have the answers. I didn’t even know about the Liege Maximo thing until one of the others picked up on it while they were laying low on Cybertron, before we began our operation.”

Elita sighed before beckoning the others to lower their weapons. While they reluctantly did so, she fixed the Titan Master with a hard look. “All right. As long as this isn’t a trick, we can put our past grievances aside… for now. How do you propose to help us?”

“I can elaborate once we get back to Cybertron,” Sovereign replied. “What I can tell you is that I do have an idea on where Onyx Prime is right now… and I have a feeling it may also lead us to the Grand Architect.”

“Are you saying Onyx is working with the Grand Architect?” asked Star Saber.

“I don’t know that he is. But considering how intertwined all our paths have been, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Nor would I,” said Elita. “Very well. Once we get to Cybertron — and convince Rodimus and the Council that you mean no harm — we can hopefully get to the bottom of all this.”

*  *  *

At Elita’s behest, the Autobots and Decepticons that had been gathered in the command center were sent to their assigned habituation suites and await further orders. Swerve, being Swerve, had offered to find an engex distillery somewhere on Metroplex and provide everyone with some much needed fuel. While some of his fellow Crusadercons accepted the offer, Rung was not one of them. Instead, he returned to the room he had locked himself away in earlier and returned to his old case notes.

Perihelion. Ephemeris. Eucryphia. So many of these names were ones he had heard from history records but had no memory of every meeting. Some of these he knew dated as far back as the age of the Thirteen Primes. Was he really that old? Had he truly been around for that long?

This question confounded him as much as his alt mode and purpose had, if not more so now that he had solved those last two. His life was still a giant puzzle with half of the pieces missing.

As he continued to scroll through the notes, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Rung said, not looking up as the door slid open.

A large shadow fell over him and Rung turned in his seat to a large golden robot. He instantly recognized them as Ten, the reprogrammed Legislator that Swerve kept around as help at his bar.

“Ten! What a pleasant surprise.” Rung rose to his feet. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting you at all; I thought you’d be with Swerve, helping him with drinks.”

He expected the response to be “Ten,” as it typically was with the ex-Legislator. Instead, what Ten said turned out to be more than one, mono-syllabic word.

“I need you to follow me.”

Rung blinked, taken aback by Ten’s newfound speech. “I… beg your pardon?”

Ten extended a large hand to him. “Please. The fate of the universe depends on it.”

“Ten, I’m afraid you’re not making much sense. What’s going on? Why are you—”

“Please.” There was a sudden sense of urgency in Ten’s voice, as if he was practically begging. “He’s going to hurt me.”

This only increased Rung’s confusion. Still, the tone Ten was displaying pushed him to take his hand and, before he knew it, he was being warped out of the room.

*  *  *

“GONE?! What do you mean he’s gone?!”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” Swerve said, backing away from Skids. “I was trying to fetch Ten and saw him go into Rung’s room so I went in there and they were both gone! I swear I didn’t do anything!”

Skids growled as he punched the wall, leaving a fist-sized dent in it. Nautica, Nightbeat, and Brainstorm stood by with shocked expressions, having all heard the news Swerve had just delivered.

“Well, that’s just great,” Brainstorm muttered. “Impactor took the gauntlet with him, so we can’t use that—”

“Then make a new one!” Skids exclaimed, whirling on him.

“I don’t have the resources, buddy!” Brainstorm shot back. “I was barely able to gather enough to make the first one and its modifications! We’ll have to wait until we’re back on Cybertron so I can access my old lab there.”

“I just don’t understand why Ten would go missing to,” said Nautica. “Was he the one who took Rung?”

“He used to be one of Tyrest’s Legislators,” Nightbeat pointed out. “Maybe Tyrest some how got control of him again.”

“But how would Tyrest even know about Ten? Someone on the ship would have had to have….”

Nautica trailed off as she spotted a small black-and-blue bot come from around the corner. Upon spotting the five Autobots, Wipe-Out stopped in his tracks and his optics went wide as they all turned to look at him.

“Oh, bullocks.”

He turned to run away but Skids was too fast for him, charging towards the mini-bot and tackling him to the floor. As Wipe-Out struggled in vain to escape the Autobot’s grip, Skids drew a gun and pointed it at the Decepticon’s head.

“Did you have anything to do with this? Speak up!”

“I had no choice!” Wipe-Out whined. “If I didn’t do something to get back into his favor, he was going to kill me along with everyone else!”

“Did you tell Tyrest about Ten?” asked Nightbeat.

“I told the Grand Architect. I still have his frequency number from when I did jobs for him as a blacksmith.”

“Wait, you’re still in contact with the Grand Architect?” Nautica asked. “Could you call him now?”

Wipe-Out shook his head. “He told me to delete it after I called him. He said if my idea worked, he would come and get me.”

Skids frowned as he slowly pulled his weapon away. “Do you know where he is now?”

“No. I don’t know anything about him. I just know he wanted your orange friend — the one with the eyebrows. Don’t ask me why he wants him; I just… I just don’t want to die!”

As Wipe-Out began to break down again, Skids released him and rose to his feet, leaving the Decepticon sobbing on the floor. He turned to Nautica and the others with a grave look.

“Once he calms down, we should bring him to Star Saber, Elita, and the others. He might be our only lead to this Grand Architect.”

“We should ask Anode, too,” Nautica suggested. “She used to work for him as well. She claims she doesn’t know much….”

“But at this point, we could use everything we can get on him,” Nightbeat finished for her.

Brainstorm looked between them and the sobbing Wipe-Out. “Fine,” he said with a heavy sigh. “But I’m not babysitting him.”

*  *  *

Within seconds, Rung and Ten found themselves in a large, scarcely lit chamber. Rung could barely see Ten in the darkness that surrounded them.

“Where are we, Ten?” Rung asked softly. “What is this place?”

“Ten,” the reprogrammed Legislator replied.

He let go of Rung’s hand just as a bright blue light filled the chamber. Rung raised his arm to shield his optics from the sudden illumination.

“Good,” a mysterious voice spoke out, echoing throughout the room. “It worked. I figured it would be simple enough to reconnect Ten to the same network as the other Legislators.”

Rung felt his fuel turn cold. He had just been rescued a few hours ago and already he was back to square one. “No,” he murmured. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is. It must. Ten said as much, didn’t he? The fate of the universe depends on it.”

Rung knew he had heard the voice before, back when Tyrest’s forces had first captured him. “I take it I am speaking with the Grand Architect?” he asked.

“Oh, it is well past the need for such formalities. We are on equal ground here, you and I. It is only right that you know me by the name I was born under.”

The light dimmed enough to reveal a figure standing at the top of a stairway. Clad in silver and blue armor-plating, he stood like a majestic idol, as if he was a statue crafted by the finest sculptors of Cybertron. The blue light bathed him from behind, highlighting his regal form.

Rung recognized the design. He had seen the statues; seen the depictions in the stained-glass windows; seen the dramatic representations in holo-dramas. But it couldn’t be. Even if he was a believer, there was no way it could be who he thought it was.

“My name,” the Grand Architect said, “is Adaptus.”

Shock gripped Rung and he could do nothing but watch as the silver figure descended the staircase. The Grand Architect gazed down at him with a look of… was it sadness? Happiness? Rung had no idea how he was supposed to interpret the figure’s expression nor whether it was a face that should be trusted. After a moment of silence, Adaptus extended a hand to him.

“It’s been too long… brother.”

Rung felt his optics flash as the whole world started to spin around him. The last thing he remembered before everything went dark was his body involuntary transforming and changing shape as the orb in his chest began to glow….