Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Eleven

 CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Lost Light, en route to the Muta-Gaath Nebula

“Where did you see him, again?”

“There! Right there!” Red Alert exclaimed, pointing at the empty in front of him. “He was… he was standing there and… talking to me!”

Smokescreen frowned as he looked down the hallway, seeing no indication of any ghost or whatever it was Red Alert claimed to have seen. He then looked over to Krok and Nickel, two Decepticons who had sought out Red Alert and corroborated his story. “You guys say you saw the same thing?”

“We weren’t with him when it happened,” Krok replied. “But the brief glimpse we got of… it matches with his description.”

“Huh.” Smokescreen continued to stare at the Decepticon, a faint look of skepticism on his face. “Pretty convenient that the only other bots who have seen this ‘ghost’ are both Decepticons.”

“Oh, please,” Nickel grumbled. “And just what purpose would us projecting some weird ghost thing serve?”

“I don’t know, to stir chaos and mayhem?” Smokescreen retorted. “It’s kind of your thing.”

“And why, exactly, would we even do something like that?” asked Krok.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your oh-so-glorious leader just came back from the dead and is probably causing plenty of headaches for our folks back on Cybertron. You will forgive me for being more than a little wary of you two.”

Before either Krok or Nickel could protest, a loud voice blared from the ship’s intercom. “ALL HANDS ON DECK. WE ARE APPROACHING OUR DESTINATION. REPEAT: ALL HANDS ON DECK—”

Smokescreen grunted as he stepped away. “Guess you two get off for now,” he muttered. Turning back to Red Alert, he asked, “You all good for—”

“Yeah,” Red Alert said, a bit too hasty to sound confident. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just head to the bridge. We can deal with this later.”

With that, he started to head back down the hallway. Smokescreen followed him, giving Krok and Nickel one last look before turning his back to them. Once the two Autobots were gone, Krok let out a weary sigh.

“I have the feeling that this journey is going to be a very unpleasant experience.”

“Yeah?” Nickel snorted. “I could’ve told you that.”

*  *  *

“Keep it steady, Skyblast. We’re trying to get there in one piece.”

“I’m doing what I can, Signal Flare!” Skyblast shot back to his fellow Omnicon, gritting his teeth as he navigated the Lost Light through the treacherous path of the Muta-Gaath Nebula. “We were lucky the last time we went through here, but nebulae like this one can be incredibly unpredictable!”

“How much further until we reach Omega Supreme’s base?” Star Saber asked from the command chair.

“We should be approaching it soon,” said Signal Flare. “Though it’s not turning up on my scanner yet….”

“I’ve already called for the crew to gather here,” stated Big Bang from the comm station. “They’ll all be ready once we finally reach there.”

Star Saber leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his chin as he frowned. He glanced over at Cosmos, who was standing nearby to help navigate the Lost Light through the Muta-Gaath Nebula, as well as to direct them to Omega Supreme’s former location. The green and yellow minibot was looking uneasy, a worried expression on his faceplate.

“You’re sure these coordinates are accurate?” Star Saber asked. “I’m not doubting you, I’m simply—”

“Well, I am!” Cosmos exclaimed. “We should have been there by now. Omega Supreme’s satellite is supposed to be right in this area.”

“You don’t think the Destructons moved it or something, do you?” asked Wing Saber. “You know… to cover their tracks and prevent us from investigating. Which is what we’re doing.”

Big Bang made a disgruntled sound. “I swear to Primus, if this whole trip was a waste of time….”

“Wait!” Signal Flare said. “I’m picking up something. It’s just up ahead.”

Star Saber looked through the viewport, narrowing his optics. “It was uncloaked the last time we were here,” he mused aloud. “Has someone re-cloaked it again?”

“No, no. It’s not Omega Supreme’s rock; its a starship. A very large starship.”

Star Saber tensed, slowly rising from his chair. “Is it the Vis Vitalis?”

“Uh, I’m not sure yet,” Signal Flare replied. “We’d have to get closer for me to find out.”

Despite the Omnicon’s words, Star Saber could feel it in his spark that his hunch was right. They had encountered the Vis Vitalis — former ship of the Autobot hero Thunderclash — during their first venture into the Muta-Gaath and had found it to be under the control of the Destructons. The last time anyone had seen the ship had been when the Destructons attacked the Lost Light while en route to Earth. It would not have been much of a surprise to Star Saber to find the Vis Vitalis here again, right where they had first encountered it.

“Whatever it is, approach with caution,” Star Saber said to Skyblast. “Are the shields and weapons at full power?”

“They should be,” Skyblast said.

“Then press ahead. And be ready for anything.”

*  *  *

Stormshot was now positive that the ship was being haunted.

Not long after she had heard the announcement summoning everyone to the bridge, she had stepped out of her hab suite in time to see the apparition of a teal and gray bot phase through the wall opposite of her room. While it could have been just a result of her having just awaken from recharge, the fact that she had seen something similar earlier was simply too much to be a coincidence. There was definitely a ghost on the Lost Light.

Only question now was if there would be time to get to the bottom of it.

While she could hear the footsteps of others heading in the direction of the bridge, she didn’t see anyone nearby who would notice her snooping around rather than walking with them. Seizing this opportunity, she dashed down the hallway and turned the corner, taking the path that led her down to the ship’s engine rooms, which were behind the wall the ghost had gone through. Upon reaching the door, she kicked her way in and ran inside, coming up to the ship’s hyper-drive. That was when she saw him.

The ghost — for lack of a better term — stood in front of the hyper-drive, facing Stormshot. Despite being (supposedly) dead, the bot’s optics seemed to glow as if they were still alive, even if their image was faded and translucent. Apparition or not, Stormshot cautiously drew her weapon and aimed it at the ghost.

“I’m giving you one chance to explain yourself before I—”

“Before you what?” the ghost asked, its voice sounding distant. “You can’t do anything to me. I am already dead.”

“So, what, did you die on this ship or something?” Stormshot asked.

“I was murdered,” the ghost growled, “by one of your own, when I was trying to help them.”

“Well, I’ve gotta say, you’re better off than most people who get killed. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a Cybertronian ghost before.”

“A ghost? Is that what you think I am?”

Stormshot raised an optical ridge. “I mean, what else could you be? You’ve already said that you are dead. Also, you look like a freaking ghost.”

The bot looked down at himself, frowning slightly. “I never thought of it like that,” he murmured.

“What did you think you were?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m supposed to be dead, yet somehow I still exist.”

“Fantastic,” Stormshot muttered. “Well, I’d love to stick around and have an existential crisis with you, but I’ve got places to be. If I were you, I’d lay low and not cause too much trouble. We’ve got enough on our plate as it is.”

The ghost smirked at her. “It’s not as if I’m capable of doing much to you, nor vice versa.”

“Give me your word or I’ll call in a Reversionist priest to exorcise you.”

The apparition dipped his head. “You have my word.”

Though Stormshot was far from convinced, she turned her back to the ghost and quickly exited the engine rooms, heading in the direction of the bridge.

*  *  *

“There it is. I see it.”

“I see it, too.” Star Saber grimaced as he stared at the approaching form of the Vis Vitalis, floating within the nebula with its aft side facing the Lost Light. “Can you scan for life signs without them noticing?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Signal Flare replied before scanning the other ship with his radar. After a few minutes, he said, “I’m picking up four life signs on that ship. None of them are Cybertronian.”

“It’s the Destructons, isn’t it?” Wing Saber muttered. “They must have destroyed Omega’s sanctuary.”

“Doesn’t look like they’re moving,” grunted Big Bang. “Are they trying to lure us in?”

“Maybe we should turn back,” Skyblast quietly suggested. “The last time we crossed paths with them didn’t turn out so well. I don’t think this time will turn out much better… even if we do have a combiner.”

“No.” Star Saber’s response was cold and stone-like. “We are not turning back. Not with so much at stake.”

Wing Saber placed a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, you should think this through more clearly. We can’t just rush into this without some kind of plan. It would be suicide.”

“We don’t need to face them directly,” Star Saber said in a low tone. “We just need to destroy their ship and that’ll be the end of the Destructons.”

Big Bang shook his head. “It won’t be that easy, kid. If it was, you don’t think we would’ve gotten ridden of them a millennium ago?”

Star Saber rolled his hands up but stayed silent for a while, continuing to glare at the Vis Vitalis. The former Autobot ship was moving at a barely noticeable pace, not showing any indication that it was headed anywhere in particular. It was as if it was just waiting for the Lost Light to make the first move, baiting it. It was the perfect setup for a trap.

Yet, somehow, Star Saber did not care. All he saw was an opportunity to rid the universe of the Destructons once and for all.

“Someone get me Spacewarp,” he ordered. “I need her on the bridge.”

“I’ve already sent the call to the rest of the crew,” Big Bang said. “She’s probably already on her—”

“I need her here now.” Star Saber shrugged Wing Saber’s hand off as he stormed closer to the front of the ship. “Whatever anyone does, do not let the Vis Vitalis out of your sights. Keep all weapons trained on it.”

“Uh, captain?” Signal Flare started to say.

“Not now, Signal Flare. Just maintain position and—”

“Captain! I’m picking up several energy readings coming through the nebula! They’re coming from behind us, around us….”

Star Saber frowned as he looked at the Omnicon. “Do you have any visuals?”

Before Signal Flare could reply, the ship shuddered as if a large object had fallen atop of it. From the edges of the viewport, black tendrils started to slither across the transparisteel, wrapping around each other to create a knot. The Lost Light lurched to a halt as its engines abruptly died, before moving again as it was slowly pulled closer towards the Vis Vitalis.

No wonder it was such a perfect setup for a trap, Star Saber thought, bitter with himself. Because it is one.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Ten

 CHAPTER TEN

Earth, crash-site of the Ark II

“I… am never, ever doing that again.”

“What’s wrong?” Wheeljack asked, looking over at Jazz. “Never been on an orbital jump before?”

“Oh, I’ve been on plenty,” Jazz replied, wiping dirt off of his white armor plating. “Plenty enough for me to decide that I absolutely hate them and never want to do them.”

“Well, it’s either this or getting shot out of the sky by Decepticons or humans, depending on whoever hates the most today.” Wheeljack turned back around to look upon the remains of the Ark II, the ship in which the Autobots had arrived on Earth over a century ago. It was still embedded in the mountainside it had crashed into, its once golden hull having faded to a rusted orange.

“Gotta admit,” the Autobot engineer muttered, “I’m surprised Sector Seven didn’t salvage or destroy this, especially after they turned against us.”

“They were probably too focused on chasing us to even remember,” said Jazz. “And, hey, who knows; maybe they’ve already booby trapped it without us knowing.”

The two Autobots proceeded to enter the crashed Ark, carefully stepping over rubble and debris. The ship was sure to be empty of bots, as all those who been knocked into stasis lock upon the crash had been reactivated by the time of Unicron’s defeat and any who had died had been recovered and entombed back on Cybertron. Despite this, Jazz still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking onto a ghost ship. He still had vivid memories of the ship bustling with activity during its quest for the AllSpark. To see it in such a decrepit state left him feeling uncomfortable at best.

They eventually reached what had once been the Ark’s command center and Wheeljack made a beeline for the main computer. Jazz was not expecting it to boot up after so many years of disuse and was surprised when it actually did within minutes of Wheeljack switching it on.

“Dang,” Jazz commented. “Didn’t think it would work after all this time.”

“I plugged in a power booster,” Wheeljack explained as he tried to adjust the glitching monitor. “Not sure how long it’ll last, but it should be enough to do what we need to.”

Once the monitor’s screen had stopped glitching enough to be usable, Wheeljack started typing away, inputting codes and various strings of text and numbers. Jazz didn’t understand half of what he was doing and decided not to pretend to, instead waiting until Wheeljack was finished or something interesting happened.

The latter did not waste any time in presenting itself as a small, ball-shaped object popped up from the ground and hovered in front of Jazz, eliciting a startled shriek.

“Intruder alert!” the object blared, shining lights in the Autobot’s face. “Intruder alert! Identify yourselves immediately—”

“T-X One-Nine-Eight-Four,” Wheeljack said.

The ball instantly dimmed its lights and backed away from Jazz, speaking to him in a more polite tone. “Greetings, Crewmember Jazz. I hope you are doing well.”

“Uh….” Jazz glanced at Wheeljack, who still had his attention on the computer. “What the hell?”

“Please monitor your language, Crewmember Jazz,” the ball said. “It is not professional of a high-ranking officer.”

“’Jack, you’ve gotta clear this up for me.”

“It's a backup drive for Teletraan-One,” Wheeljack replied. “It gets activated in the event that the main computer shuts down, which it did when the Ark crashed.”

“How come it never popped up when we first woke up?” Jazz asked.

Wheeljack shrugged. “I dunno. You and the others came back online before I did and the topic never came up. It probably just hadn’t recovered from the crash yet.”

Jazz eyed the small robot warily, still slightly bothered by its presence. “So, uh, do you need it for what you’re doing or—”

“Teletraan-X, reroute power from sectors one, four, and nine to main grid.”

The robot’s central blue flashed green for a second. “Done,” it said. 

At that moment, the room was suddenly bathed in light as the rest of the command center’s systems came back online. A satisfied Wheeljack then turned away from the computer and beamed at Jazz.

“Radio Prime,” he said. “We’re back up and running.”

*  *  *

In spite of everything, Sari had to admit that it was nice to finally return to known civilization. The coffee shop Kicker had brought her to was just as busy as it had been the last time she had visited it during the semester, with no one being wise to what she had just been through since then.

Still, she wasn’t exactly in the mood for anything besides a bottle of water. She had already finished half the bottle by the time Kicker returned to their table with his cup of coffee. No longer in his suit of armor, he was wearing a far more casual set of white jacket over red shirt. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was just another student from her college rather than… whatever he was supposed to be.

After taking a painfully long sip from his drink, Kicker glanced up at Sari, staring at her through his long brown locks. “So, where do you want me to start?”

“Are you sure it’s safe to talk about this here?” Sari asked, looking around at the other customers.

“They’re not going to overhear,” Kicker replied. “And if they do, they probably won’t care; just two kids talking about made-up crap.”

“Right.” Sari sighed, staring at her half-empty bottle. “What’s your story, then? How did you find out about… this?”

“My father told me. He was one of the many scientists who worked for Machination on Project: Cadmus.”

“Project: Cadmus,” Sari repeated. She reached into her pocket and dug out the piece of paper she had found earlier with those same words written on it. “I found this in my dad’s office,” she said, showing it to Kicker.

Kicker nodded, barely reacting to it. “Makes sense. Your grandfather, Newton Sumdac, was the head of the project. I’m not sure how much involvement your father Isaac had in it, though.”

Sari frowned. “What is Project: Cadmus then? What does it have to do with us?”

“It’s where we came from,” Kicker said. “It’s what resulted in our creation.”

Sari took in a deep breath, though if she was being honest with herself she had expected that to have been the case. “So, what, we’re just some… experiments made in a lab?”

“More or less,” Kicker said with a shrug. Sari noticed that he did not seem as bothered by this as she was, though it was probably because he had had more time to process it.

“Scorponok made it sound like I was the only one, though,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I didn’t think there were others.”

“Probably because Scorponok doesn’t know about any others,” said Kicker. “My father said I had been deemed a failure and was ordered to dispose of me. Instead, he raised me as his son and waited until my powers started developing to tell me the truth.”

“Could there be others, then? Others like us?”

Kicker thought for a moment. “Well, we definitely weren’t the first. Others were made before us, but they were disposed of for failing to meet expectation. Although… my dad thinks one of them might have gotten loose.”

Sari slowly nodded, trying to take all of this in. She planted an elbow on the table as she ran a hand through her hair, blowing out her breath as she continued to stare at her bottle. “So, what now?” she asked, almost in a whisper. “Those robots — Scorponok and the rest — they aren’t going to give up on chasing me, are they? Who can we turn to?”

Kicker glanced around before leaning closer, his tone low. “Are you aware of a group by the name of Sector Seven?”

Sari tensed slightly, recalling how Sector Seven had turned against the Autobots. “I know someone named Fowler,” she said carefully.

“Good. He’s one of the few from that group who can still be trusted.”

“He was supposed to pick me up back in Detroit. But then those… Decepticons showed up and… kinda put that whole plan in the trash.” 

“If you can try calling him again, that might help us,” said Kicker. “Until or unless the Autobots return, he might be the best person we can turn to.”

Sari raised an eyebrow at him. “You know about the Autobots?”

Kicker smiled slightly. “Of course I do. That whole thing that happened back at Stonehenge wasn’t exactly under the radar.”

“Yeah, well, to be honest, I didn’t really believe any of it up until this last week,” Sari said quietly.

“Fair enough.” Kicker shrugged as he took another sip from his coffee. “I would probably be in the same boat if I didn’t already know that I was some weird alien cyborg thing.”

Trypticon

“Mind transfer is ninety percent complete,” reported Flatline. “Spark readings are still steady.”

Shockwave stared down at the resting forms of Scourge and Megatron. A cable between their heads connected the two as it transferred the latter’s memories from the former into the new body constructed for him by Trypticon. While he was confident that the operation would go smoothly for Megatron, he had doubts that Scourge would survive the process. The Scourge program had been created to infect Optimus Prime — then known as Orion Pax — and turn him to the Decepticons’ side. The fact that it had developed a personality all its own was something Shockwave found to be… unprecedented.

Unless, of course, Scourge had requested more from Trypticon than just a single spark and a new body….

“Ninety-eight percent!” said Flatline. “Nearly complete. Everything is looking good….”

Shockwave directed his attention to Megatron’s newly built form, watching as its optical sensors glowed to life for the first time. Before Flatline could even say that the process had completed, the revived Decepticon leader began to sit up, forcefully disconnected the cable from his head. Flatline rushed over to assist him but was ignored as Megatron immediately set his gaze on Shockwave, his red eyes narrowing.

“Shockwave,” he growled.

“Lord Megatron.” Shockwave inclined his head in acknowledgment. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… alive.” Megatron flexed his hands, testing every joint in his servos. “More alive than I’ve felt in… years.”

“I would suggest that you allow yourself a few mega-cycles to rest,” Flatline said meekly. “Your spark and body are still very new and fresh, and it’s not guaranteed that the body can withstand the full capabilities of a spark as strong as yours.”

If Megatron had heard him, he did not show it. Still, he took great care in raising himself off the medical slab and planting his feet on the floor. Stretching to his full height, he slowly shifted his attention back to Shockwave, his expression still displaying a sense of wariness.

“I’m surprised you have returned to serve me.”

“I understand why you might feel that way,” Shockwave said in a low tone. “However, I assure you that my loyalty will not be in question.”

Megatron let out a sharp laugh. “You said the same when I first took over the Decepticons, and yet you spent the next thousand years plotting behind my back with your Secret Order. How do I know you will not do the same again?”

Shockwave briefly glanced at Megatron’s arm, taking note that the Decepticon leader had not yet reacquired his fusion cannon. “The events that transpired last year has made me realize how… illogical my plans were in the greater scheme of things,” he said carefully. “I am willing to acknowledge the fact that you are the superior leader for Cybertron’s future.”

“That much we can agree on,” Megatron said. “However, I simply cannot afford to take any more chances with you.”

Too late, Shockwave realized that Scourge was no longer laying on his medical slab. Before he could react, he was tackled from behind and landed face-first onto the floor. As Scourge kept him pinned, Flatline began to approach him, deploying a claw-like device.

“Not willing to kill me yourself?” Shockwave asked, glaring up at Megatron.

“Oh, no.” The Decepticon leader grinned. “Your mind and intellect are much too valuable for me to waste. I am simply making sure that you won’t be a hindrance to future plans.”

“Plans?” Shockwave questioned. “You have only been back from the dead for less than a deca-cycle. How could you possibly have any plans?”

Megatron chuckled, though it sounded like it was coming from both him and Scourge at the same time. “You will see, old friend. In time, you will see.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Nine

 CHAPTER NINE

Unspecified location, Cycle 9315 (around 500 years ago)

“Luna 2? What’s on Luna 2?”

“A hot spot that has not yet been tarnished by the war,” answered the holographic gear-shaped insignia floating in front of Anode and Lug, casting a bright light on the pair. “It is perhaps the only place where you can find a sample of widowed metal.”

“Widowed metal?” Anode was familiar with the term. In rare instances, if a newborn spark was not harvested in time, the sentio metallico surrounding it would survive as a specially shaped piece of metal. While she was not aware of any uses for the little “snowflakes,” she did know such metal fetched very high prices in certain markets. Especially the less-than-reputable ones….

“I mean, no offense, but the chances of finding something like that are… astronomically small,” Anode went on. “Not to mentioned how long it would take.”

“Then I suggest you start as soon as possible,” replied the hologram. “I have full confidence that you will find what I am asking… and I assure you that the reward will be well worth your time.”

“What kind of reward are we talking about?” asked Lug, crossing her arms.

“Somewhere in the realm of a million Shanix. The half of it upfront.”

Anode’s optics gleamed at this number. Lug, for her part, still remained skeptical.

“What exactly is it that you want with this widowed metal?” she asked. “Are you selling it to hungry Centaurians or something?”

“It is none of your concern,” the hologram said sharply. “Do we have a deal?”

“We sure do,” Anode said before Lug could speak. She gave off a half-hearted salute to the hologram. “Pleasure doing business with you, Techy.”

With that, she switched off the hologram before turning to Lug, a wide smile on her face. Said smile instantly fell when she saw Lug’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I still think you’re too trusting of this guy,” Lug muttered. “I mean, we don’t even know what he looks like and already you’re accepting jobs from him that are taking us close to Cybertron. I thought you never wanted to go back there.”

“I don’t,” Anode said. “But a million Shanix, Lug! That would pay off at least five debts in our name.”

Lug huffed, looking away. Paying off their debts was always the thing Anode dangled over her head whenever she objected to a job they had been thrown into. “It would,” she grudgingly admitted.

“And,” Anode added, raising a finger, “there just might be enough left over to get you that rare Cyber Key you were eying back at Big Hoss’ shop.”

“I don’t want it that bad,” Lug mumbled.

Anode placed a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. We’ve taken on jobs more dangerous than this. It’s just one little trip to Luna 2. It’ll be fine.”

Lug glared at her. “That’s what you said last time about the Ideji—”

“It’ll be fine,” Anode repeated, stressing the last word. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”

Lug bit back the very colorful retort she was about to release. Instead, she took Anode’s hand off of her shoulders and clasped it between her own servos.

“All right,” Lug sighed. “Let’s get moving.”

The Lost Light, en route to the Muta-Gaath Nebula, present day

“That’s pretty much it,” Anode said, standing before Star Saber on the bridge as she finished her story. “Never saw Techy after that since we went to Luna 2 and… ended up five centuries in the future.”

“You didn’t gather much from previous interactions with him?” Star Saber asked.

She shook her head. “Only met him once before that point and it was mostly just introductions; telling me how he calls himself ‘the Grand Architect’ and all that rubbish.”

“Any ideas on what he was planning on using the widowed metal for?”

Anode shrugged. “Honestly, it could be anything. All I know is that I wasn’t the only blacksmith he hired, and that he wants me and the others dead for knowing what little we do. I wish I could give you a better answer, but….”

“I understand,” Star Saber said gently. “Thank you for your time.”

Anode nodded before departing from the bridge. Star Saber turned back around to face the front of the ship’s bridge, staring at the hyperspace tunnel through the main viewport.

“How much longer, Skyblast?” he asked the white and red pilot.

“Little less than a mega-cycle, cap,” Skyblast replied. “We’re gonna have to be extra cautious when we drop out. Nebulae like the Muta-Gaath can be unpredictable when it comes to stability. We might have to drop out just out of its reach.”

“Do whatever you need to. So long as we get there.”

“You seem pretty confident that we’ll find something there,” said Wing Saber, standing nearby. “Any particular reason?”

“Call it a hunch, brother,” Star Saber replied. “Something in my spark is telling me that we will find the answers we need here.”

“Uh-huh.” A small smirk crossed Wing Saber’s gold face. “Just like your hunch told you that trying to sneak stink-grenades into Kup’s office was a good idea?”

Star Saber sighed heavily. “More like my hunch telling me that the Academy life was not the life for me.”

“And how well has that worked for you so far?”

Star Saber stayed quiet as he tried to decide on how maturely to respond.

*  *  *

“Why are we still here?”

“I don’t know,” muttered Krok, walking alongside Nickel as they headed down one of the Lost Light’s hallways. “Why are you still here?”

Nickel rolled her eyes at him. “I asked first.”

“You asked why are ‘we’ here. I know why I’m here, but I don’t know why you’re here. So I can’t faithfully answer the whole ‘we’ part.”

“Did Misfire’s snark rub off on you or something?”

This earned her a glare and the Mini-Con slightly scooted away from him. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” she huffed. “I’m here because I don’t want to join the others on Earth and everyone on Cybertron would think I’m up to something.”

“Same,” Krok grunted.

“Okay. There we go. See how easy that was?” He did not answer her, not that she was expecting him to. “Of course,” Nickel went on, “that doesn’t explain Spacewarp.”

“I think Star Saber asked her to come along,” Krok said. “He probably thinks her Transwarp Blaster may come in handy.”

“Mm.” Nickel went quiet as she tried to think of a subject to shift the conversation to, or whether she even should. The point became moot, however, as a topic of conversation immediately presented itself when the pair turned the corner.

The apparition vanished almost instantly but it had stuck around long enough to make the two Decepticons freeze in their tracks. Staring the spot where the ghost had once been, Nickel slowly looked craned her head to look up at Krok, watching his expression carefully.

“I wasn’t the only one who saw that, was I?” she asked quietly.

Krok shook his head. “No. I saw it, too.”

“What — or who — did you think it was? I didn’t get a good enough look at them….”

“Neither did I. It was definitely a bot, to be sure. Big, bulky, well-armored….”

“Do you know if this ship has a reputation for freak hauntings?”

“I don’t,” Krok murmured. “Though I don’t suppose it would hurt to ask around….”

*  *  *

“Is this really necessary, Red Alert?”

“More than you know, Pipes,” Red Alert muttered as he adjusted the camera in Pipes’ personal habitation suite. “After everything that’s happened on this ship, tighter security is extremely called for. We can’t have any more freak hijackings or Destructon invasions or whatever.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Pipes said. “But… why my room?”

“These are going in everyone’s rooms,” Red Alert replied.

“Um… isn’t that a major invasion of privacy?”

Red Alert stopped to look at the blue bot, his optics narrowing. “How so?”

“It’s just that… I’m not sure how comfortable I am having a bunch of cameras watching my every move.”

“If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to fear.”

Pipes blinked. “That… uh, that completely misses my point.”

“Doesn’t matter. These things are here to stay.” Red Alert stepped away from the camera and appraised its current position. Satisfied, he swiftly exited Pipes’ suite, leaving the exasperated minibot behind.

As he strode down the hallway, Red Alert took a moment to assess the list of habitation suites he had yet to install cameras in. The work was spread out between him and the rest of his security team, making the list a lot less overwhelming than it would have been otherwise.

Huffer, done. Gears, done. Pipes, done. The next name on the list was Dipstick. Red Alert could only hope that the little green bot wouldn’t give him too much grief. He remembered the last time he gave Dipstick’s room a security sweep, he had too readjust his audio sensors and add a few new words to the “Too Vulgar for Polite Conversation” list.

As he turned the corner, Red Alert suddenly got the impression that he was being followed. He stopped to turn around, only to find nothing there. Frowning to himself, he enhanced his audio and visual sensors, scanning the space in front of him no one was there under some kind of cloaking shield or using invisibility powers. Still not seeing anything, he reluctantly chalked it up to being a trick on the mind and turned back around… and screamed.

Standing there was the apparition of a navy blue, teal, and gray robot. Its entire body was see-through, fading in and out of existence in the span of a few nanoseconds, as if it was not part of this world; not meant to exist.

The face was familiar but the body-type was different; rather than being a standard Triorian Guardsman body, the ghost instead had a larger build suggesting the alt mode of an armored truck, with a rocket launcher adorning his shoulder. His face, however, was one Red Alert remembered. Black helmet over a blue faceplate, red optics staring into his. Red Alert had seen those eyes before; about a year ago, to be precise, when he—

“Killed… me.”

Red Alert remained frozen in place as the ghost of Doubledealer floated towards him, hand outstretched, mouth open in permanent agony as it howled.

“You… killed… me.”

All Red Alert could do was screamed as he transformed into his car mode and peeled off down the way he had came.

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Eight

 CHAPTER EIGHT

Vector Prime stood before a golden statue of what appeared to be himself, although the details and proportions were a lot more exaggerated and “fantastical” than reality. Clearly it was modeled after his depictions in the legends about the ancient Primes and their endeavors. His optics roamed from the wider-than-normal chest to the thin, athletic legs, before finally settling on the plaque bolted into the base.

“Everything I say is a lie - Vector Prime of Apophenia.”

Vector Prime frowned before turning to look at Amalgamous Prime. The shape-shifter was standing in front of his own statue, admiring it with a small smirk on his face. Statues of the Thirteen loomed over them on either side of the main hall they were in, with a statue of Liege Maximo standing in the center, towering over the other twelve.

“What is this place, Amalgamous?” Vector asked.

“You know, I don’t think Liege ever gave it a name,” Amalgamous replied, sounding far too casual for Vector’s liking. “I imagine it would be something pretentious like ‘Hall of the Primes’ or—”

“I’m not asking for its name,” Vector snapped. “I want to know what it is and why you’ve brought me here.”

“How ironic.” A low voice boomed from behind them, echoing throughout the room. “You used to be the one with all of the answers.”

Vector Prime turned around and immediately tensed as Liege Maximo stepped into the hall, his massive green form overshadowing both Vector and Amalgamous.

“To answer your question,” Liege Maximo went on, steam exhuming from his glowing red maw, “I like to consider this my domain. Just as Solus and Onyx had their colonies, this is mine.”

“I thought Carcer was your colony,” Vector Prime muttered.

“I would not consider a prison to be a colony,” Liege Maximo grunted. “When the other Primes started to expand their reach to other worlds, I did not hesitate to do the same. Of course, I never informed anyone because I knew you and the others would immediately suspect me of wrongdoing… as you always do.”

“Well, speaking for myself, I wouldn’t have had a problem with it,” said Amalgamous Prime. “I don’t see how you establishing a world for yourself would be any worse than Onyx or Micronus doing the same.”

Liege Maximo glanced at him with a look of disinterest. “I would expect nothing less from a sycophant like you, Amalgamous.”

The Shifter Prime bristled from the remark and stepped back, bowing his head. Disregarding the exchange, Vector kept his attention on Liege Maximo, optics narrowed in suspicion.

“Why have you come here then? What happened to Nexus, Onyx, and Magnus?”

Liege Maximo chuckled. “Please, one question at a time. I know you cannot resist the urge for knowledge, Vector, but you should at least know the value of patience.”

Vector Prime scowled. “You know what? Forget it. Anything you tell would most likely be a lie.”

“Ah, there it is again. The lack of trust. No wonder our alliance fell apart back then; it was already fragile to begin with.”

Vector Prime stepped closer to Liege Maximo, his blue optics not leaving the other Prime’s red ones. “Where are Nexus and the others?”

Liege Maximo sneered. “I’m surprised you care about them. If I recall, you were rather… confrontational when Nexus approached you for an alliance.”

“Where are they, Maximo?” Vector bellowed. “What have you done to them?”

“Oh, how I wish this could have gone easier.” Liege Maximo sighed. “Amalgamous, would you please?”

Before the Shifter could make a move, Vector Prime transformed into his spaceship form and flew into Liege Maximo, pushing the large Prime into a statue of Alchemist Prime. The golden figure shattered upon impact and Liege tripped over its base, topping onto the floor. Converting back to his robot mode, Vector turned and raised his arms to block a swing of Amalgamous’ scythe, its blade scraping against his gauntlets.

“Fight us all you want,” Amalgamous snarled. “You cannot stop what is already happening!”

He swung his scythe again, which Vector dodged before throwing a fist into the other Prime’s face. At the same time, he grabbed Amalgamous’ scythe and wrenched it from his hands, swinging it around and delivering a slash across the Shifter’s chest. As Amalgamous howled, Vector kicked him to the floor and pinned him there with his foot, raising the scythe high over his head.

“I might not be able to stop what is happening,” Vector Prime muttered, “but I can at least wipe that insolent smirk from your face.”

Just as Vector was about to bring the scythe down, Liege Maximo seized him from behind and pulled him away from Amalgamous, causing him to drop the scythe. The larger Prime then hurled Vector into his own statue, sending him crashing through it and colliding with the wall. As Vector laid there, practically embedded into the wall, Liege Maximo strode forward and gazed upon his beaten form.

“I regret that this reunion couldn’t have gone smoother,” the hulking machine rumbled. “I had hoped that you would have been able to see things through my eyes, and that we could have perhaps amended the several thousand-year rift that has divided us for so long. But I suppose it was simply not meant to be.”

Vector Prime groaned, looking up at him weakly. “Is… that why you brought me here? Because you thought you could… twist me?”

“It wasn’t the only reason, though I was hoping to make things easier by convincing you to see my perspective. Because I know that you are going to resist what we have planned for you.”

“Who’s… we?”

Liege Maximo smirked. “I thought you didn’t want me to answer anymore questions. Anything I say is a lie, yes?”

Vector simply glared at him.

“Ah, I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Liege Maximo said with a shrug. “I intend on telling you everything anyway; I’ll simply leave it up to you on whether you should believe me or not.”

“And you wonder why no one ever trusted you,” Vector grunted.

Liege Maximo laughed. “Oh, I know exactly why no one trusted me. It’s just that I think they’re wrong to do so.”

*  *  *

“Rodimus.”

Rodimus Prime groaned as he stirred awake. His optical sensors switched online to find himself in a dark, dungeon-like room that was not unlike a prison cell. In fact, it probably was exactly that judging by the steel bars surrounding him.

It took him a moment to register the fact that he wasn’t alone in the cell. Sitting across from him was a blue and black bot with an appearance that was strikingly resemblant of Optimus Prime, from the window-chest to the mouthplate covering his face.

“Convoy — I mean, Delta Magnus?” Rodimus said groggily, still waiting for his other systems to readjust.

“You can call me Convoy,” the blue bot replied, his tone low. “It’s… it’s who I am now.”

“Where are we?” Rodimus asked. “The last thing I remember is Liege Maximo leading me to his chambers or whatever.”

“Did he tell you that everything about Cybertron’s history is a lie?” Convoy asked.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Something must have interrupted him, then, and he wiped your memory of the conversation. When he tossed you in here, he seemed to be in some kind of rush.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rodimus said. “Did he have that conversation with you?”

“He did,” Convoy confirmed, his voice suddenly quiet. “I’m still not sure if I believe any of it. He is the Prime of Lies, after all….”

Rodimus frowned. “You seemed bothered about it, though.”

Convoy shook his head. “It’s nothing. How did you end up here, anyway?”

“Ah, some bot claiming to be Prowl pushed me through a space bridge and it dropped me off here. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“Not much more than you. I have been seeing bots around here with familiar names; one of the guards I think calls himself ‘Starscream.’”

Rodimus snorted. “As if one wasn’t bad enough. You think they might be clones?”

Convoy shrugged. “Hard to say. When it comes to Liege Maximo, who knows what kind of games he’s playing at.”

Rodimus slowly nodded before shifting the conversation to the next prying question on his mind. “What about you? How did you end up here? What happened to Nexus and Onyx Prime?”

Convoy’s expression darkened. “Nexus is dead,” he mumbled. “Onyx… Onyx went berserk. He tore Nexus apart and… was going to come after me when Liege Maximo transported me here. We had tracked him down to this… ring of replicas of Cybertrons. I’m not sure if that’s where we are now or….”

“Well, I’ve been outside, and I’d say that description is pretty spot on,” Rodimus said. “I don’t suppose Liege gave you an explanation for any of that?”

Convoy drew his legs closer to his chest, an act that surprised the younger Prime. “He is the Prime of Lies….”

“I know that, but maybe there’s some truth to his lies. It would be better than being left in the dark like this.”

“It was all for naught,” Convoy murmured, no longer listening to Rodimus. “Everything anyone has ever done… was all for nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” Rodimus asked, rising to his feet. When he did, he noticed that his chest compartment was open, exposing the chamber in which he held the Matrix of Leadership.

Except the chamber was empty. The Matrix of Leadership was missing.

As dread slowly settled into Rodimus’ spark, all he could hear was Convoy’s incessant rambling.

“We have been deceived. We have been deceived. We have been deceived.”

Transformers Regenerated: Monsters We've Become

TALES OF THE DISAPPEARED:

 MONSTERS WE'VE BECOME

Planet Beast, Cycle 9187

“Sweet Primus, you smell repugnant.”

“Stick it up your afterburner,” the blue ogre-like robot rumbled as it waddled through the swamps of Lennonia. “Like it’s my fault it’s humid as hell on this planet.”

Rippersnapper glared at his fellow Terrorcon, baring his fangs. “Yeah, but you don’t see me smellin’ like a corpse. Even Hun-Gurrr cleans up after himself after eating a sludge troll.”

“Whatever.” Blot grunted as he hefted the chain over his shoulder, dragging the carriage full of captive natives behind him. “Just shut up and keep pulling.”

“You don’t get to order me around!” Rippersnapper protested as he pulled his carriage. “I outrank you, loser!”

“Uh-huh. What are you, again? A sentry?”

“No, that’s Sinnertwin. I’m a—”

The white Terrorcon stopped when a wheel in his carriage got caught in a rut. Snarling, Rippersnapper yanked on the chain only for it to refuse to budge. He let out a roar as he turned over to the many anthropomorphic animals bound together in the carriage, looking up at him wide-eyed in fear.

“You know,” Rippersnapper began, a cruel smile forming on his blue face, “I don’t think Scorponok’s gonna notice if a few of these critters went missing. We could tell him they fell underfoot or somethin’. Y’know, just to lighten the load.”

“Whatever,” Blot grumbled, continuing on. “Just don’t expect me to have your back when Scorps claws your head off.”

“It’ll just be a few.” Rippersnapper’s grin broadened as he drew his gun, setting his sights on a family of canines. “He won’t mind.”

“But I might.”

Rippersnapper scowled as he looked back at Blot. “What did you just say?”

“That wasn’t me.” Dropping hold of his carriage, Blot turned around and let out an alarmed yell. “Behind you!”

Rippersnapper turned back in time to see a bizarre creature emerging from the swamp, looming behind the carriage. Round green eyes gleamed wickedly as the red bug thing brandished a pair of blade-like pincers. As both Terrorcons stepped back, raising their guns, the monster’s mandibles spread open in a grin.

“Hi, there. You boys come here often?”

“The hell is that thing?” Blot muttered.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Rippersnapper whispered back. “Just shoot it when I say—”

“You guys do know I can hear you, right?” the creature said.

“Now!” Both Terrorcons unloaded their guns as the monster pounced in the air and lunged at them. With a cackle, he dove down and drove his pincers into Rippersnapper’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

“Get off him, you freak!” Blot raised his gun at the creature only to be tackled from behind by another beast jumping down from the trees. As the winged feline thing held the ogre down, it looked over to the bug-creature and saw it digging its pincers into Rippersnapper’s face.

“Repugnus! We were told not to kill them!”

“I’m not killing him,” the bug monster replied, picking at the Terrorcon’s face. “I’m just playing with him a little.”

“We don’t have time for that. We need to get these civilians back to Fort Leo.”

“Fine.” Repugnus made a derisive sound before stomping his foot on Rippersnapper’s face, knocking him into stasis lock. Grotusque did the same to Blot before transforming into his robot mode. He walked over to the captive beast natives in one of the carriages, who were staring up at him in horror.

“Nothing to fear, my friends!” Grotusque said with an uneasy smile. “Don’t let my appearance deceive you, I am not here to eat you! Although some of you do look edible enough….”

“And the others think I’m the one with a screw loose,” Repugnus muttered as he converted to his robot mode. “Where’s that two-headed freak so we can get these critters away and move on to the other two?”

As if one cue, a two-headed dragon came crashing through the foliage and into the swamp. Both heads sputtered out mud as one glared at the other.

“I told you they were here.”

“No, you didn’t. You were trying to go the other way!”

“Yeah, so that Terrorcon flier wouldn’t spot us!”

“You were flying straight at him!”

“Hey!” Repugnus snapped, storming up to the dragon. “We’re on a tight schedule here. If the ‘Cons get the rest of these animals back to their camp, then—”

“Then we call in for backup,” said Grotusque. “That’s what we were told to do in case things got out of hand.”

Repugnus gave him a dirty look. “Except that would mean we failed so we don’t get paid.”

Grotusque frowned. “Is that all you care about?”

“Of course it’s all I care about! We’re mercenaries; it’s all we should care about.”

“And just what are we supposed to spend that money on? More simultronics? Syk sticks? Unfiltered engex? Is that all our lives are now?”

“Not this again,” Repugnus growled. “Look at yourself, Grotusque. Look at all of us! We’re not handsome heres; we’re no Ultra Magnus or Optimus Prime or even a Grimlock. We’re disgusting creatures that nobody wants. Only reason the Autobots keep us around is ‘cos we do work that they’re too squeamish to do themselves.”

“You know that’s not true,” Grotusque said quietly. “Optimus doesn’t discriminate against bots for their looks.”

“Oh, sure, he might not. But you’ve seen the looks others have given us. Hell, just the other day, Highbrow wouldn’t let you play Fullstasis with him because he thought you weren’t bright enough.”

“Well, I mean, Highbrow can be a bit of a—”

But Repugnus wasn’t listening anymore, walking away from Grotusque and past the two-headed dragon.

“Take ‘em away, Doublecross. We’ve still got two more to deal with.”

One of the heads frowned as it looked at the departing Monsterbot. “Why doesn’t he ever address me?” asked Twinferno.

“’Cos of your stupid face,” said Doublecross.

“We have the same face, smart-aft.”

“Yeah, but yours is stupider.”

Grotusque ignored the bickering dragon heads as he plodded after Repugnus, his fellow Monsterbot’s words still ringing in his mind.

The Steelhaven, Cycle 9187

“I’m sorry, but that thing is just… grotesque.”

“Highbrow, when I want your opinion, I’ll rip my head off and throw it into space so I won’t have to hear it.” Brainstorm pressed the button on the holoprojector, causing the projection of a naked Nebulan to vanish. He turned back to the rest of the Steelhaven’s crew and crossed his arms, doing his best to not look salty. “Anyway, that brings us to the end of my presentation. Any questions?”

Crosshairs raised his hand. “Do we have to be naked when using these avatars?”

Brainstorm shrugged. “I mean, I don’t see why not. Why, is there something wrong with that?”

“It’s just that… those Nebulans have so much skin and hair… and they sometimes have weird protrusions growing from their crotches or chests. It just looks… nasty.”

“Can you at least put clothes on them?” asked Sureshot.

“I mean… I guess I could.” Brainstorm scratched his head. “What kind of clothes, though?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said the gray-plated captain of the Steelhaven. “I appreciate the effort you’ve put into this project, Brainstorm, but I simply do not see it as something feasible.”

“Why not? It would make relations with organics easier.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t think it would alleviate the concerns that have been raised since what went down on Planet Beast.”

“I think I know what would,” muttered Highbrow, glancing pointedly at a trio of Autobots standing in the corner of the room.

The leader of the three, Repugnus, shifted as he glared at the blue and gray Autobot. “And what would that be, smart aft?”

Highbrow responded before anyone could stop him. “To have the three of you arrested and tried before High Command for your actions back on Beast.”

“What actions?” Repugnus growled, rolling his hands into fists.

“What actions?” Highbrow mockingly echoed him. “Does ‘over a hundred civilians dead’ ring a bell?”

“It was the Terrorcons who destroyed those caravans,” Grotusque piped up defensively. “You know that. You were there.”

“You mean the caravans that you purposely left in Hun-Gurrr’s path so you could lure him? What did you think was going to happen?”

“Repugnus was supposed to spring the trap before Hun-Gurrr could reach them—”

“Oh, pinning it on me, huh?” Repugnus snapped, whirling on the other Monsterbot. “Maybe if you hadn’t taken so long to give the signal, then maybe—”

“Enough,” the captain said sharply. “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this. Repugnus, I want to speak with you in my office in half a mega-cycle.”

Repugnus flicked a hand dismissively. “Frag off. I’m fed up with this crap. We did our job. Only reason we’re still here is ‘cos we haven’t been paid yet. Anytime you’d like to do that would be great.”

The captain narrowed his optics at the Monsterbot. “Your ‘job’ was poorly done. A hundred civilians were killed, when there were supposed to be zero.”

“Fine, dock off a few credits then. Point still stands; we did our part. How well it was done doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter when you’re an Autobot,” the captain said sternly. “Like it or not, Repugnus, you and your brothers wear our badge, and so long as you do, all three of you will be expected to abide by the Code.”

Repugnus snorted. “Well, then….” He placed a hand on his insignia — located on his right chest — and scratched it off. “So much for that.”

The captain glowered at the Monsterbot before letting out a heavy sigh. “Arrest them.”

“What?!” Repugnus exclaimed as the twins Cloudraker and Fastlane moved in on the three Monsterbots. “No! You can’t do this!”

“Says who?” the captain asked, raising an optic ridge. “I think you forget who you’re talking to here.”

“Frag you, Fortress!” Repugnus snarled, unsheathing a pair of blades. “We won’t go quietly!”

“Actually, I think you will.” 

On this cue, Pointblank raised his right arm along with Crosshairs and Sureshot. Before any of the Monsterbots could react, the three Autobots fired at once and ensnared them all in energy cables, disabling their systems long enough for Cloudraker and Fastlane to fix stasis cuffs on them.

“Take them down to the brig,” Fortress ordered, meeting Repugnus’ infuriated glare with a solemn expression. “I will contact High Command and find out what we should do with them.”

“You’re going to Hell, Fortress,” Repugnus growled. “Mark my words.”

Fortress said nothing as he and the others watched the Monsterbots be hauled out of the room.

*  *  *

“That… could have gone better.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

“That’s tough, because we share the same body. If you shut down for the night, then I have to shut down for the night.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’m telling you to shut up.”

“But I don’t want to shut down for the night.”

Doublecross groaned as he flipped his head over to look at his conjoined twin. “Why did I get stuck with you?”

“Because we were born this way,” Twinferno helpfully replied.

“But why? Does Primus think this is some kind of cruel, sick joke?”

Twinferno looked back at his brother with a curious expression. “Do you believe in Primus?”

Doublecross shrugged with his side of their shared body. “I dunno. Someone’s out to get us.”

“Isn’t that Mortilus’ job? I thought he was supposed to be the god who collects sparks.”

“I honestly do not give that much of a crap.” Doublecross turned back over. “Go to sleep.”

“What do you think is going to happen to us?” Twinferno asked, ignoring his twin’s wishes.

Doublecross sighed. “We’re probably going to end up in Garrus-9. Repugnus at least will get his spark extracted. Probably same with Grotusque.”

“And not us?”

“We weren’t involved in that trap of theirs. We were still wrestling with Cutthroat when that happened.”

“That’s true.” Twinferno fell silent for a moment, and Doublecross half-hoped that he was finally getting ready to shut down. Then he spoke up again.

“They’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Who?” Doublecross grunted.

“Repugnus and Grotusque.”

“They’ve probably already shut off. Which is what we should do.”

“Wait. I hear footsteps.”

Doublecross rolled his eyes as they sat up to face the ray shield of their cell. It was difficult to make out the bot in the darkness of the brig, but they appeared to have a spindly, almost skeletal shape, with some kind of cloak flowing behind their body. Blue optics glowed as they passed the dragon’s cell before moving on to the next one.

“Uh, hello?” Twinferno called out to the mysterious bot. “Who are you?”

No answer was given. The twins heard what sounded like a ray shield being shut off as the stranger moved into a nearby cell.

“Hey!” Twinferno cried. “You’re not supposed to go in there!”

“This is freaking weird,” Doublecross muttered. “Where’s a guard when you need one?”

If there was an answer to his question, then they would never get it, for at that moment an explosion ripped through the brig and the two-headed Monsterbot found themselves being sucked out into space.

Cybertron, Cycle 9187

“How many were lost?”

“Not many. We only had seven prisoners in the brig; four of them were Decepticons, whom we quickly recaptured. The other three were the Monsterbots.”

“Repugnus and his crew?”

“Yes. We had them placed there after Repugnus had a… bit of an outburst. We were going to hold them there until we could contact you and decide on what to do with them.”

“And what happened to them?”

“We found no sign of them. I’m afraid they died in the explosion.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“It was a stray metal object that collided into the Steelhaven. We were able to remove it and seal the breach.”

Optimus Prime leaned back in his seat, rubbing his chin. “Do you know why they acted the way they did? Both on Beast and on your ship.”

Fortress shook his head on the Autobot leader’s screen, his expression solemn. “I’m afraid not, Prime. To be honest, out of everyone on my crew, I knew them the least. I’m not sure where they came from or why their appearances are so… different from the average Cybertronian.”

“I’ll ask Prowl to see if he has any records on them, though somehow I feel that even he will be at a loss,” Optimus replied. “Is there anything else?”

“I believe that is all I have to report, commander,” said Fortress. “Though, to be quite frank with you, I feel that no one on my crew is going to miss the Monsterbots.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t think anyone on board liked them. They were found to be rude, abrasive, and all around unpleasant. Even I must admit that I grew tired of their presence. I just wish… I wish that things hadn’t proceeded the way they had.”

“I understand, captain,” Optimus said solemnly. “Losing those under your command is a terrible experience, regardless of your opinion on them. If you need some time to recuperate….”

“That won’t be necessary, Prime. We are closing in on the Semper Tyrannis and her crew. We believe they are in the Feminia system.”

“In that case, I will not keep you. Good luck, captain.”

Fortress saluted him before signing off, leaving the screen blank. Optimus Prime then rose from his seat and raised a hand to his helmet.

“Prowl? It’s me. If you are not too busy, I need you to fetch a few files from your database….”

Elsewhere, Cycle 9187

“Woo-ee.” A green arm patted the giant metal dragon laying in front of him. “This sure is a catch, wouldn’t you say, Brog?”

“Yeah, some catch,” a corpulent Nebulan grunted, puffing on a pipe. “And just what in the blazes are we supposed to do with a big lizard machine?”

“I dunno, use it for spare parts or something. Reprogram it to be a server bot.”

“Ah, there’s no room for it.” Brog spun around in his chair to squint at his navigational grid. “We’re not far from Bara-Mag. Maybe we can sell it over there.”

“Isn’t that the planet with the robot gladiators or something?” Brog’s crewmate asked.

“Yeh, they pay pretty good for new warriors.” A greedy glint entered Brog’s eye as he looked back at the offline Monsterbot. “I think we can make a profit here….”

FIN

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Seven

 CHAPTER SEVEN

Cybertron, Cycle 8114 (over 1,700 years ago)

“She thinks he is the one.”

Sentinel Prime stared at the small hologram that Termagax had presented to him. His layered faceplate was expressionless as his old cerulean optical sensors studied the visual of Optronix, as if trying to figure him out like a puzzle. Termagax stood before the Prime in the shadows of his private quarters, her own optics barely visible in the darkness.

“I will admit, the resemblance is uncanny,” the recluse went on. “The design of his faceplate is strikingly similar to how the Arisen is portrayed.”

“A coincidence,” Sentinel Prime said gruffly. “You and I both know that he is not the Arisen.”

“I am aware,” Termagax said evenly. “But you cannot deny that—”

“If there is a point to this discussion, then I would like you to get to it quickly,” Sentinel Prime snapped, switching off the hologram. “If Hydra believes her new ward is the Arisen reincarnated, then let her think so. I don’t understand why you would come out of hiding for this.”

Termagax was unfazed by the harshness in Sentinel’s tone. “We are perhaps the only Cybertronians remaining who know of the Arisen’s true identity,” she said calmly. “I highly doubt Delta Magnus is going to out himself anytime soon.”

Sentinel regarded her carefully. “What are you getting at?”

“You are going to need a puppet to manipulate when the time comes. People will notice Optronix’s resemblance to the Arisen and will heed his word if they are given reason to believe that he is indeed who they think he is.”

At this, Sentinel’s dour mood slowly vanished, replaced with a look of intrigue. He switched the hologram on again, a smile creeping onto his face as he gazed upon Optronix once more.

“Oh, yes,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I can very much see that….”

Trypticon’s hot spot, Earth, present day

“Energy levels are stable. Pulse is strong. So far, so good….”

Flatline carefully captured the glowing green spark within his clawed device, gingerly extracting it from the hot spot that had birthed it. Trying his best to ignore the stares of everyone around him, he slowly rose to his feet and started to move towards the large, gray and black chassis that awaited its power source.

“Remember, I can’t guarantee that everything is going to go one hundred percent smoothly,” the Decepticon medic said. “Most ‘point one percenters’ are forged and thus already inside the metal that’s going to form their body. I don’t know how a cold-constructed body is going to react upon having such a powerful spark be placed inside of it.”

“I am aware of the risks, doctor,” growled Scourge, watching Flatline’s every move. “Just get on with it.”

“Right, right. No pressure.” Grateful that his faceplate hid most of the anxious expression on his face, Flatline slowly and carefully inserted the spark into the body’s empty chestplate. He then jumped back as energy surged into the body, though to his relief nothing exploded like he was afraid of. After closing the body’s spark chamber, Flatline turned back to Scourge and bowed.

“Everything should be in working order, my liege. Though I would give it a few mega-cycles just to make sure the body and spark are fully operational.”

“Excellent work, Flatline.” Scourge turned around to face Shockwave, who stood nearby alongside Starscream and Soundwave. “I trust that you will be able to successfully transfer my— Megatron’s consciousness into this new body?”

“It should not be too difficult,” Shockwave replied. “After all, I do have experience in the field.”

“Then let us put your experience to use.” With that, Scourge turned and strode out of the chamber, with Shockwave following close behind. Flatline hastily loaded Megatron’s newly constructed body onto a hoversled and guided it outside as well, leaving Starscream and Soundwave alone in the chamber that contained Trypticon’s hot spot.

The Decepticon air commander glanced at Soundwave, eyeing the communications officer carefully. Soundwave did not acknowledge his gaze, even when the Seeker finally started speaking.

“I’m surprised you’re here.”

“I fail to see as to why,” Soundwave replied.

“I thought you were comfortable with your position back on Cybertron,” Starscream went on. “Out of all the Decepticons I’ve known, you adjusted to peacetime easier than anyone. I don’t believe I ever heard you complain.”

“Even if I did have qualms, why would I voice them to you?” Soundwave asked pointedly.

Starscream shrugged. “Fair enough. Still, you had every opportunity to join Ratbat’s Ultracons or… literally do anything else besides work with Autobots. But you never did. Yet here you are, back with us once more, just like the good old days.”

Soundwave at last turned to face Starscream, his red visor meeting the Seeker’s optical sensors. “For nearly a thousand years, I had sworn fealty to Megatron, vowing never to turn against him. Yet in the span of two years, I have broken that oath twice; once to rejoin the Heralds of Unicron, then again to follow Shockwave. I consider it a miracle that Lord Megatron has not yet destroyed me for my unfaithfulness.”

“Well, he’s not exactly back yet,” Starscream said. “For all you know, that could be the first thing he does once he gets uploaded into this new body of his.”

“Then I will gladly accept my fate, as I fully deserve it.”

Starscream’s face creased in disgust. “Ugh. Your time with the Autobots has allowed their righteousness to rub off on you.”

“Righteousness is not a trait exclusive to the Autobots,” Soundwave said. “It is simply a trait that you have absolutely no concept of.”

“Ah, how I’ve missed our little spats. I suppose some things never change.”

“Or if they do,” Soundwave interjected, “they always end up changing back.”

Starscream scoffed. “There’s no need to get philosophical on me.”

“Is there a point to this conversation, Starscream? Because if not, then I believe my time is better spent elsewhere.”

“In that case, don’t let me keep you.” Starscream turned to walk out of the room, looking over his shoulder to give Soundwave one last smirk. “After all, I’m sure you have plenty on your plate….”

Soundwave said nothing, watching the Seeker as he strode pridefully out of the chamber. Once he was gone, Soundwave turned in the direction of the hot spot that had birthed Megatron’s new spark, staring into the darkness that laid beyond it.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he spoke into the darkness.

“Yes,” rumbled the voice of Trypticon. “I was hoping we could do some… catching up.”

*  *  *

Scorponok was not in a good mood.

Not only had he lost Sari — the greatest creation to have come out of his machinations — but he had lost any sense of control that he had in regards to the Grand Architect’s operations on Earth to this “Scourge” individual, who believed himself to somehow be Megatron reborn. To make matters worse, almost all of the Decepticons had flocked to follow Scourge’s lead and ignored any command Scorponok attempt to give. Only a handful of the original Ultracons — including Shatter and Dropkick — were still somewhat loyal to him (or at least as loyal as a Decepticon could be), but even they seemed to only be acknowledging Scorponok in the hopes that it would benefit them.

He still could not wrap his head around the fact that the Grand Architect had turned against him like that. He had been promised that by siding with the Architect, he would be able to bring all of his dreams and plans to fruition. But with Megatron back, that would no longer be possible. The Decepticon leader would be watching his every move, if not outright obliterate him for his past treachery.

The only reason Scorponok had not yet struck out on his own was because he still needed the Talisman. He needed to know what it was fully capable of and how he would be able to apply its powers to his plans. That meant either taking things back over from Megatron… or stealing the Talisman himself. Both options were incredibly risky, but he knew only one of them would serve him the best in the long run.

Fortunately, he already knew someone who could help him in such an endeavor. He only needed to do some convincing.

Navigating his way through the Decepticon camp, which had recently bolstered in size since the arrival of those from Cybertron as well as the addition of Trypticon’s “city” form, Scorponok easily found the bot he was looking for. Killmaster was not one who could be easily missed with his massive, hulking form that towered over the likes of Lugnut and even Scorponok himself. Scorponok would expect nothing less from a former member of the Warriors Elite, yet he could not help but wonder if there was something more deceptive about Killmaster’s appearance. He pushed any doubts to the back of his mind as he closed in on Killmaster, clearing his vocal processor to make his presence known.

The large purple and gold Decepticon turned around to look down at Scorponok, his small red optics narrowing. “What do you want?”

Scorponok put on a smile in an attempt at cordiality. “I’ve been looking for you, Killmaster. That is what you call yourself, isn’t it? I’ve heard many tales about you from my subordinates, yet I don’t believe we’ve ever personally met.”

“Should have kept it that way,” Killmaster growled. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Scorponok’s grin wavered slightly. “You might change your mind once you give me the chance to speak. I have a very tempting offer for you.”

“Doubtful,” Killmaster grunted, turning his back on the purple and green Decepticon and walking away.

Scorponok took swift strides to catch up with him. “You are aware of the powerful device that we currently have in our possession, yes? The Talisman?”

“Heard about it. Don’t really care.”

“Ah, but I do. Believe me when I say that it is a very powerful artifact with capabilities beyond your wildest imagination.”

“Like what?”

“That’s what I aim to find out. Megatron’s return put an unexpected halt to my experimentations with it, but I have no intentions to stop. Whether Megatron likes it or not, I will find out what the Talisman is capable of and what it can do.”

“Then what?” Killmaster finally stopped to look back at Scorponok, regarding him carefully. “Do you intend on using it against Megatron?”

Scorponok hesitated, selecting his words carefully. “So long as he has no objections to my plans, then no. However, I do believe it will be useful against the Autobots.”

Killmaster tilted his head. “And how would I benefit from helping you?”

“If all goes as planned, then I’m sure Megatron will see your worth as a high-ranking official at his side. You could stand among Shockwave and Starscream as his top-most generals.”

Killmaster continued to stare at him and Scorponok expected him to ask what the benefits would be if things didn’t go to plan. Instead, the huge Decepticon moved his head forward in a slow nod.

“Sounds good. Take me to it.”

Scorponok grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”

*  *  *

“Come here, you little gnat.”

Dropkick grumbled to himself as he pursued the dot on his radar that represented the rogue Sari. She was close, he could tell; the little brat hadn’t mastered her new powers to the point where she could have gotten far before getting exhausted. After all, she was still a disgusting “techno-organic” that required things like breathing and hydration. Still, he couldn’t help but wish he had picked a secondary alternate mode that was just a bit faster than a helicopter.

So far, their little chase had taken them over more than one state line. He had to give the kid credit, he hadn’t expected her to hold out for this long. He knew she couldn’t fly forever, but he was impressed that she had not yet crashed or been forced to land due to her weak biological physiology.

According to his radar, they were fast approaching the western coast of the continent. Either she was daring enough to take them overseas, or there was someplace there that she was headed that she hoped to hide at. The latter was the most likely, in his mind, though he wouldn’t be surprised if the kid tried to pull a fast one on him.

“You can’t run forever, brat,” Dropkick muttered to himself as he picked up speed. “One way or another, you’re mine.”

*  *  *

Sari landed in a less-than-graceful fashion; a fashion which mostly involved rolling on the ground for a solid two minutes. When she finally came to a stop, she just laid there on her back, staring up at the night sky. Her breath was heavy and haggard, and she felt as if she so much as moved a muscle, her body would be in a whole world of pain. Clearly being some sort of cyborg didn’t mean she couldn’t feel exhaustion or pain anymore. She doubt she would recommend being a human-Transformer hybrid to any of her friends.

Speaking of which, she could tell she was no closer to them than she had been however many minutes or hours ago. Sure, she was finally in California… but where in California was a whole other matter entirely. As far as she could tell, the foothills surrounding her and the two-lane road that seemed to stretch across the fields for eternity indicated she was somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It reminded her of the camping trips that her dad would take her on when she was younger, which she always found intensely boring. In any case, she knew she was still a long ways from Furman University, which was the only place she could hope to find Jack, Miko, or Raf. Maybe Verity would be there too, though she honestly didn’t know what that girl’s deal was.

Just as her breathing was starting to regulate, she heard the faint sound of helicopter blades in the distance. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was it Sector Seven? Or was it another Decepticon, still on her tail even after she had downed the red lady-bot?

The sound of parts shifting and clanking together gave her the answer. Sari tried to get up only to wince as she felt a sharp pain her chest. Her legs refused to cooperate as well, leaving her laying there as a large blue and gray metal figure appeared from over the foothills, approaching her with its guns drawn.

“No sudden moves, kid,” the Decepticon rumbled, a green light flashing from its mouth as it spoke. “Unlike Shatter, I won’t hesitate to pop you if you so much as flinch.”

Sari glared at him. “I thought you guys wanted me alive.”

“The others do. I don’t really care, to be quite frank. If you ask me, I’d say you’re a lost cause and Scorponok should just make another squishy Mini-Con.”

“Won’t they be mad at you for disobeying orders?”

The Decepticon shrugged. “Probably. Hell, I’m sure they’ll beat my aft for it. But at this point, I don’t really care. You’ve given me enough of a headache already.” He pointed both of his guns at Sari. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or do you want to see if the Afterspark will let freak abominations like you in?”

Sari did not answer him, remaining completely still. The Decepticon snorted, holstering one of his guns before walking up to Sari, keeping the other gun pointed at her in case she moved. He bent down and roughly picked her up from the ground, his hand tightly wrapped around her body. She cringed from the pain but did not dare make a sound.

“Dropkick to Shatter,” the Decepticon spoke into his radio. “I’ve got her. Wanna radio Soundwave to open a groundbridge?” Silence as he listened to the response. “Because I am not flying all the way back over there! Do you have any idea how tired my rotor blades are? …Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about your precious wing. Maybe next time you should ARGH!”

A yellow blade of energy sliced through Dropkick’s shoulder, severing the arm that he was holding Sari with. As she fell to the ground, Dropkick spun around and pointed his gun at an unseen target only to be knocked back by a burst of energy. The ground shook as the Decepticon fell and his body went limp, indicating that he would not be getting back up any time soon.

Just as Sari sat up, a human-sized figure appeared in front of her, clad from head to toe in white and blue armor with a black bodysuit underneath. He looked down at her, his face hidden behind a mask, though she could detect signs of a human face behind his dark visor. He extended a hand to her and she carefully took it, allowing him to pull her up to her feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’ve been better,” Sari muttered, her knees still feeling weak as she tried to balance herself. Once she had, she looked to the stranger with a suspicious look. “I appreciate the rescue, but just who the hell are you?”

“My name is Kicker Jones,” the armored man replied. “I take it you are Sari Sumdac?”

She frowned. “How do you know my name?”

“I know more than just your name. I know what you are and who made you.”

Sari’s eyes widened. “But… how…?”

“Because I am just like you, Sari Sumdac,” Kicker Jones replied. “And if you really want to know the truth about who you are… then you need to come with me.”

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Earth, present day

Night had fallen and Sari was doing everything she could to stay awake.

Clearly her being part-robot made no difference when it came to needing a regular night’s sleep, but she refused to so much as blink. She knew it was only a matter of time before the Decepticons — especially the giant scorpion robot who had captured her in the first place — would come after her again. They obviously wanted her for some reason, and she was not willing to find out why anytime soon.

Of course, doing so would probably allow her to answer all of the questions that were running through her mind right now. But even so, she knew her life was worth more than that. Besides, maybe it was for the best that those questions remained unanswered.

She looked down at her phone, which was hanging on a thread in terms of battery levels. Agent Fowler had called and told her that someone would pick her up at midnight. With only a few minutes to go, Sari could only hope that Fowler meant her midnight and not wherever he was in the world.

A cold breeze blew over her, prompting her to wrap herself tighter with an old blanket she had taken from the house. She sat on the porch to her old home, intently watching the street for any sign of approaching vehicles, whether it be her pick-up or Decepticons. It was a private neighborhood, so it naturally did not see a lot of activity.

Because of this, it was her immediate reaction to tense up when she spotted a red muscle car driving slowly up the street, its headlights glowing in the night. She highly doubt it belonged to Fowler or his agents, and she did not recognize it as any of the Autobots she had met over the past few weeks. That left only one option….

Rising to her feet, Sari tossed the blanket aside and quickly found a hiding spot on the porch, getting out of the muscle car’s line of sight. She listened as the car drew closer, and closer, before finally stopping right in front of the house. Sari waited a moment for the car to resume its drive, but it simply stayed there, its engine rumbling lowly.

Sari cursed to herself. There was no point in keeping this up. Emerging from her hiding spot, she stepped into clear view of the muscle car, which instantly brightened its lights and turned them on her.

As she shielded her eyes, Sari said, “All right. You’ve found me. What do you want?”

A dry chuckle came from the automobile. When it spoke, Sari knew she had heard the Decepticon’s voice before when she was first captured. “What do you think I want? I’m here to bring you home.”

“This is my home,” Sari retorted, gesturing at the house behind her. “I don’t want anything to do with you and your ‘friends.’”

“You cannot hide from your origins, little one. You were created by us. You belong with us.”

“I’m not sure where I belong, but it sure as hell isn’t with you,” Sari snapped.

“Scorponok did say young human adults were often rebellious,” the Decepticon remarked. “I suppose some disciplinary action is in order.”

With that, the muscle car dimmed its lights before changing shape. Arms sprouted from underneath its hood while its rear section took on the form of legs. As the red-armored Decepticon rose to its full height, Sari made a mental note of the “gadgets” she knew to be on her person. Wings on my back, swords in my arms….

Now in robot mode, Shatter looked down at Sari, her red optical sensors narrowing. “Now then, are you going to come quietly like a good girl or—”

Sari cut off the Decepticon as she jumped up and transformed into her newly discovered “robot mode.” As her helmet and mask fell over her head, she deployed her two arm blades and kept herself suspended in midair with her back thrusters. Shatter’s optics widened at the sight of a now fully armored Sari and took a single step back.

“That’s not right,” she muttered. “Scorponok said you had not yet discovered your true form.”

“Guess he was wrong,” Sari said before lunging at the Decepticon. She flew right past Shatter’s head, her blades grazing the larger robot’s face. Shatter let out a furious growl as she deployed a pair of arm guns, swinging herself around to aim them at Sari. The Decepticon unleashed a barrage of energy bolts, which Sari narrowly weaved through to avoid being hit. She then moved to strike Shatter again only for the Decepticon to grab her in midair.

“Impressive,” Shatter growled. “But now play time is over.”

Sari did not struggle. Instead, she gathered all of the power she could muster and released it in a burst of energy from her chest, blasting it through Shatter’s hand. The Decepticon howled from the pain while Sari flew out and away from the red warrior, hovering out of the femme’s reach.

“How were you able to find me so quickly?” Sari asked, readying herself for whatever move Shatter would make next.

Shatter glared up at her, mending her mangled hand. “Scorponok has his means. Besides, there were only so many other places you could have gone. It was fairly easy to narrow things down.”

“And just what is it Scorponok wants with me? Why did he create me?”

Shatter smirked. “Come with me, and you can ask him yourself.”

“Yeah, not happening.”

Turning around, Sari kicked on her thrusters and blasted away from the neighborhood, creating as much distance between her and the Decepticon as she could. Behind her, she heard Shatter transform again followed by the sound of jet engines roaring to life.

Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, Sari thought just as a gray and red jet flew overhead. It immediately turned back around and advanced towards her. Sari moved to the side just as the jet came close and sliced her energy blade through Shatter’s right wing. As the Decepticon plummeted towards the ground, screaming curses, Sari pressed on ahead.

She had no clue where she was going, but she knew anywhere had to be better than here.

*  *  *

“That insolent fleshbag!”

Shatter pounded the ground with her one good hand. Whether or not her outburst was noticed by the humans who dwelled nearby did not concern her. All she could think of at the moment was the disappointment her superiors would surely express for her failure to procure Sari Sumdac. That, and the inevitable gloating from a certain comrade….

Scowling to herself, Shatter raised a hand to her comm. “Dropkick, this is Shatter. I’ve lost the quarry.”

“You have?” Dropkick replied. “I didn’t even know you had her.”

“Well, I don’t anymore. Apparently she’s discovered her powers, among them the ability of flight. I have a vague idea on her trajectory; I’ll send you the coordinates now.”

“Can’t you go after her?”

“I’ve been… temporarily grounded,” Shatter muttered. “You’ll have to go after her while I get myself fixed or call for pick-up.”

“If you say so.” There was an undeniable hint of amusement in Dropkick’s tone, which only further vexed Shatter. “Try not to feel too down about your… predicament.”

“Oh, I won’t. And try not to get wrapped up in any chains, comrade.”

The connection was dropped before Shatter could even finish her sentence.

Cybertron

“Star Saber and his crew are taking off.” The disapproval in Dai Atlas’ voice did not go unnoticed by Elita-One’s audio receptors. “There goes at least over a hundred bots that we could have used by our side.”

“I understand your frustration,” Elita replied, walking alongside her fellow councilor down the hallways of the High Council Pavilion. “But Star Saber made a sound argument for his case. Rescuing Rung is as high a priority as dealing with the Decepticons on Earth.”

Dai Atlas grunted. “Still, did he need to bring so many with him? Surely thirty or so bots would have been enough….”

“I believe most of them were voluntary. Many of the bots who have served on the Lost Light have been through so much together. Even I was there for many of their early adventures. It only makes sense that they would want to band together to save one of their own.”

“I suppose.” While Dai Atlas did not sound certain in his response, he let the matter drop and changed the subject. “Speaking of Earth, however, has a decision been made on how we are going to proceed?”

Elita nodded. “We have regathered and expanded Earthforce’s ranks. With a Titan like Metroplex, we will be able to carry larger numbers and match the Decepticons in force should they decide to utilize Trypticon.”

Dai Atlas raised an optic ridge. “Isn’t Metroplex offline?”

“Wheeljack thinks he can modify Metroplex’s transformation cog so that it can be triggered remotely and allow us to ‘pilot’ him, as he puts it.”

Dai Atlas frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about the prospect of controlling a dead bot’s body….”

Elita sighed. “I have my own misgivings about it. But we’ve all agreed to only resort to such measures if it comes to that, which it hopefully won’t.”

The two of them eventually reached the door to the main Council Chambers. The High Council itself was no longer much of one; Starscream and Shockwave had departed with the rest of the Decepticons at the summoning of Megatron, as had Obsidian and Strika. Knock Out had stayed behind, though more out of fear than loyalty, while the Devisien councilors Fireshot and Vanquish seemed to be on the fence about their allegiance. Elita didn’t have much faith that the Council of Worlds would remain for much longer, though she hoped that history would prove her wrong.

As Elita moved her hand to the control panel, Dai Atlas said, “How many have signed up to join this Earthforce?”

“I’ve been told it’s reached the triple digits,” Elita replied. “At least as many that are on Star Saber’s crew.”

“Impressive. I can only hope that it will be enough.”

“So do I.” Elita pressed the panel and the door slid open. The two bots stepped in to find their fellow remaining councilors waiting for them… as well as a tall, red and blue robot standing in the center of the room. While the appearance was unmistakably that of Optimus Prime, his build was larger and bulkier than what Elita was familiar with. A golden star adorned his chest piece while his atennae extended higher and wider than was usual. It was evidently a huge upgrade from the body he had been utilizing ever since the defeat of Thunderwing.

“Orion?” Elita said carefully. “I… I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Indeed,” Dai Atlas said. “You also look… different.”

Orion Pax chuckled. “I apologize for startling you. I though the two of you would have already been here.”

“Yes,” Knock Out said wryly. “Both of you are fashionably late.”

“My apologies. I was busy with organizing the new Earthforce unit.” Elita turned her attention back to Orion. “I take it you saw Wheeljack recently?”

Orion nodded. “He calls this the ‘Star Convoy’ armor. He said it was originally intended for use by the Convoy Corps during the Destructon campaign but was put aside after they were defeated.”

“Ah.” Dai Atlas perked up at this. “I take it you are joining us in our fight.”

“If the Council will have me, then yes.”

“Of course we will,” Elita said, stepping up to her sparkmate. “With Rodimus still missing, we need a Prime now more than ever to lead us.”

Orion inclined his head. “I am not a Prime anymore, Elita. Not without the Matrix—”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t have the Matrix,” Dai Atlas interjected. “Before you, all Primes had been carrying a replica of the Matrix. Nominus, Guardian, Sentinel—”

Knock Out raised his hand. “To be fair, a majority of those Primes were less than stellar role models.”

“…but we still considered them Primes. Even Sentinel Prime, though he ended up showing his true colors, led us to victory during the first war against the Decepticons. Did he actually carry the Matrix? No. But we were victorious all the same. Regardless of how things turned out, we were at peace for a solid millennium.”

Orion opened his mouth to speak but was silenced when Elita rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Look,” she said, “there’s not much point in trying to argue with us. There are more important matters at hand, and we’re going to need someone to lead us through them.”

Orion held her gaze for a moment before slowly nodded. “Very well,” he said gravely. “If the worlds of both Cybertron and Earth require the aid of Optimus Prime once more… then who am I to refuse the call?”

Knock Out groaned. “Please tell me you don’t always talk like this….”

“It’s more pleasing to the ears than listening to you gripe,” quipped Airazor.

Optimus Prime glanced at the two councilors before looking back at Elita. “So, what’s the first order of business?”

“Well….” Elita smiled. “Right now, there are about 100 or so bots waiting for you take charge.”

“Then let us not keep them waiting.”