PROLOGUE
From the words of Kup of Tesarus, dated Cycle 9816
Starting the story is always the hardest, isn’t it? Because the first thing most people ask is: How did you get here?
Now, I’m no stranger to stories. In fact, I love telling them. But with most of them, it’s easy to set up the scene. Usually it’s when I’m on deployment on some bizarre alien world, or trying to enjoy my second retirement, or whipping turbo-revving punks into shape at the Academy.
But this isn’t like any of those. The way this story starts, I’d have to start way back; way past the point of anyone caring.
Instead, I’ll just start you off with this: I was floating in space with Guzzle — yes, I’m talking about the monster outside — when we were picked up by this ship. I didn’t get a good look at it, since the tractor beam was so bright, but I could tell it wasn’t a standard-issue Cybertronian ship. More like an amalgamation of different kinds.
We were soon brought on board and apprehended by a group of mean-looking bots. They weren’t Decepticons, but they also weren’t Autobots. They all had a black symbol crudely painted over their original faction insignia, or at least where one would normally be. It wasn’t a design I recognized, and believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of faction symbols over the course of my life. This meant they were a new group of some sort.
Guzzle, of course, he put up a fight and they had to knock him out with some kind of destabilizing device. Me, I didn’t resist and so they saw it safe enough to bring me to their captain.
Soon as I was brought onto the bridge, I was greeted with a hearty welcome. “Well, if it isn’t the legendary Kup himself!”
There he was, sitting all relaxed on his command chair. Big and bluish-green, with an equally blue face. Definitely had some modifications done to himself. He just screamed as someone who would modify their body to keep themselves on top. I knew right away from his sleazy smile that I was not going to like him.
“And just what was someone like you doing floating out in space?” he asked me.
“What’s it to ya, ‘Con?” I didn’t actually know if he was a Decepticon or not. He sure felt like one to me.
“Oh, I’m no Decepticon,” he replied. “None of us go by any faction, at least not anymore. We’re just mercenaries trying to make a living in the galaxy.”
I looked around the room. Sure enough, I saw some former Autobots there that I recalled either serving with in the war or kicking the bolts out of at the Academy. Normally, I’d have been spark-broken. But given the crap I had just went through, nothing really fazed me anymore.
“My name is Doubledealer, by the way,” the captain went on to say.
“Charming.”
He cocked his head to the side, giving me an odd look. “You know, we could always use more bots on our crew. Especially one with as much wisdom and experience as you.”
“In your exhaust-filled dreams, kid,” I grunted.
“Please, at least give it some thought. The work we do pays very well—”
“Shove it up your actuator.”
Doubledealer sighed, though I doubt he was actually upset. “Don’t say I didn’t try to spare you from an awful fate.”
“Are you gonna kill me?”
“No,” Doubledealer said quietly. “But where we’re heading, you’re going to wish I did.”
And to be honest with you? Deep down, I kinda wish he had. It’s not that I’m afraid of going out there and getting torn to pieces for the amusement of some five-faced squids… but because I hate watching others suffer that very fate. Even those Monstercons that are out there don’t deserve that. And yet Guzzle’s out there ripping their sparks out and gnawing on their transformations cogs….
I can’t imagine what it’s like for someone as young as you to watch something like that. Hell, you’ve probably seen worse than me.
I honestly don’t know how we’re gonna get out of this one, if at all. I wish I could tell you that this story had a happy ending… but I’m afraid it’s just getting started.
ALIGNMENT
Part 2: The False God
No comments:
Post a Comment