CHAPTER TWO
Cybertron
“Fort Max, I love you, buddy, but you’re really making this difficult.”
The Titan was silent as Cerebros stood at the controls to the space bridge, which had pretty much become Cerebros’ primary working station ever since Rodimus Prime disappeared through it. According to the former councilor Obsidian, the other Titan the space bridge had been linked to at the moment of the incident had been Carcer, the mobile colony of Liege Maximo. However, something was preventing Cerebros from linking the bridge with Carcer’s again; whether it was Fort Max or Carcer’s doing, or that of someone else, he had no idea. It also did not help that Obsidian had been among the Decepticons who had defected and rejoined Megatron….
Groaning in frustration, Cerebros turned away from the controls to face the other bots in the room. Sentinel Major — better known to Cerebros as the Titan Master Infinitus — stood at the back with his arms folded over his chest. With him was the Titan Master known as Sovereign, who had been behind the incident that had saved Cerebros and Infinitus from certain death. He had also been responsible for the plot to abduct several Autobots and Decepticons to some less than moral ends, but that was apparently water under the bridge now given that the Titan Masters were now aligned with the Autobots in handling the current situation.
Deciding it was best to focus on the present rather than the past, Cerebros said to Sovereign, “He’s been unresponsive ever since the incident. His systems are still online and his vitals are strong and positive, so I know that nothing is wrong with him, at least not physically.”
“You don’t think he might be under the Quintessons’ control again, like last time?” asked Infinitus.
Cerebros shook his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t completely rule it out, but I highly doubt that to be the case. It’s been days and he hasn’t done anything to make me suspect that. Or anything period.”
Sovereign stepped forward, regarding the controls to the space bridge with an inquisitive expression. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Cerebros hesitated briefly before stepping aside. “Be my guest.”
He watched Sovereign carefully as the Titan Master stepped up to the controls. For a moment, he simply stood there and stared at them, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. He then started to go to work, his hands dancing across the instrument panel as he pressed and flipped random buttons and switches.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cerebros asked.
“Quiet,” Sovereign hissed. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Could have fooled me.” Cerebros glanced at Infinitus, who was watching Sovereign with a scrutinizing expression. “Do you know what he’s doing?”
Infinitus said nothing, keeping quiet even as Sovereign finally stopped and stepped away from the control panel. At that moment, a holographic image projected itself in front of the trio, displaying what appeared to be a list of names.
“What… what is this?” asked Cerebros, his voice quiet.
“As I’m sure you know, every Titan is linked to one another by their space bridge,” Sovereign replied. “This is a list of every Titan currently in existence and therefore linked to Fortress Maximus’ space bridge.”
“Okay,” Infinitus said. “So why are you showing us this? We already know which Titan Rodimus Prime was sent to. It was Carcer — or Vigilem, rather.”
“I wasn’t finished. A Titan can only connect to another’s space bridge if that Titan is still functional. Now, the space bridge may still be operational even if the Titan’s spark is extinguished….”
“Such as with Metroplex,” Cerebros pointed out.
“Correct. However, if the Titan or their space bridge has been completely destroyed, then there’s no way to reach them.”
“What are you saying then?” Infinitus asked.
Sovereign moved his hand over the projection, sorting the names of the Titans by alphabetical order and bringing the list down to the V’s. In the spot where Vigilem’s name would have been was a very conspicuous absence.
“Oh, slag,” Cerebros swore.
“Clearly,” Sovereign said quietly, “Liege Maximo is willing to sacrifice his own Titan in order to ensure nobody reaches him or Rodimus Prime.”
Infinitus gestured to the list. “What about the other Titans? I think Windblade said that a couple had gone with the Primes who were hunting for Liege Maximo.”
“Yes, Metrotitan and Brave Maximus,” Cerebros supplied. “Although I believe Brave Maximus was recently reported to have been found on one of Earth’s neighboring planets.”
Sovereign scrolled through the list again. “Metrotitan and Brave Maximus are both still online and operational,” he reported. “Although I doubt it would be safe to access their space bridges without knowing what’s on the other side.”
“In any case, we should inform Dai Atlas about this,” said Cerebros. “Thank you for your help, you two.”
“No problem,” Infinitus said, turning to leave. He looked back over to Sovereign, who was still staring at the list. “Are you coming, Sovereign?”
“Just a minute,” Sovereign said, sounding slightly shaken. “There’s a name on here that… that shouldn’t be here.”
“What name?” Cerebros asked, looking at the list. Before he even had a chance to read it, Sovereign made the hologram vanish before turning on his heel and hastily departing from the room, pushing past Infinitus on his way out. After he had gone, Infinitus glanced over at Cerebros, who shared his look of concern and confusion.
“Should we go after him?” Infinitus asked.
“You go on ahead,” Cerebros replied. “I’ll send a report to Dai Atlas and the remaining council members.”
“You don’t know whose name it was he saw?”
Cerebros shook his head. “You would have to ask him.”
“Yeah,” Infinitus muttered, looking in the direction Sovereign had ran off in. “I don’t think that’s gonna be an easy task….”
Maccadam’s Old Oil House
“Uh… just how many of those are you gonna drink?”
“As many as I damn want,” growled Toxitron as he slammed down his fifteenth can of unleaded oil onto the counter. “Now shove it up your tailpipe before I do it for you.”
“Okay, okay!” The bot that had been sitting next to Toxitron got down from his stool and walked away. “Sheesh, some people….”
Satisfied that he was finally alone at the counter (save for the tired bartender), Toxitron proceeded to down the rest of his fuel before tossing the now-empty can onto the growing pile of others. “Get me another one.”
“You better be paying for all this,” the bartender said bitterly as he slid a sixteenth can across the counter.
Toxitron said nothing as he grabbed the can and began to guzzle it down as he had all the others. By now, most bots would have shut down at this point if not ten cans ago. But Toxitron was not like most bots. In fact, he didn’t even know what he was. Autobot clone? Decepticon experiment? Wrecker? With Impactor dead and gone, he wasn’t even sure about that last one. Springer certainly hadn’t approached him for an official membership. Since coming back to Cybertron, everyone had pretty much ignored him, most likely because of his nauseous smell which he still had no idea how to get rid of.
At the back of his mind, he could hear the words that the femme back on Mars had said about him; about who he used to be. Battle Convoy. That was his name, I believe, before we remade him.
He took another swig from the can, hoping to drown out the words once and for all. He hated hearing them. He wish he had never heard them in the first place. The very last thing he needed was an identity crisis.
Before we remade him.
“I think that’s enough, don’t you think?”
Toxitron slammed the can down and spun in his seat to glower at the yellow and blue bot that had appeared next to him. “FRAG OFF!”
“Hi to you, too,” Punch said dryly. He looked over to the pile of cans that had accumulated on the counter. “Sweet Primus, how many have you had tonight?”
“Not enough.”
“I’d say it’s more than enough.” Punch reached over to grab the can Toxitron was holding but thought better of it when the green and purple Optimus clone gave him a dirty look. Instead, he took a seat on the stool next to Toxitron’s, taking the place of the bot that had bothered him earlier.
“Listen,” the former double agent said, lowering his voice. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of something and I need your help.”
“What if I don’t want to help you?” Toxitron grunted.
“You have to. Because it involves you.”
Toxitron tightened his grip on his can, creating large dents around it. “And if I don’t want to be involved?”
Punch huffed in frustration, exasperated with Toxitron’s difficult nature. “Look, you remember when you were captured by Archforce and the other back on Mars, right? And that bot — Plasma or whatever her name was — said that you used to be named ‘Battle Convoy,’ right?”
Without warning, Toxitron got up from his seat and hurled his can over the counter. The bartender barely ducked in time to avoid it and it hit the wall, sending oil spilling everywhere.
“Hey!” the bartender exclaimed. “If you’re gonna start throwing a tantrum, then I don’t want you in here!”
Ignoring him, Toxitron whirled on Punch, his eyes glowing with rage. “Don’t ever speak that name to me again! It means nothing to me!”
“Evidently not, by the way you’re acting,” Punch said wryly.
“Shut up!” Toxitron swept his arm across the counter and sent all of the empty cans clattering to the floor. “Just shut up! I don’t ever want to hear that name again! Just shut up!”
Punch glanced at the bartender, who was giving both him and Toxitron a withering look.
“You’d better drag your friend out of here,” the teal-plated bot said gravely to him. “Before I call someone in to drag both of you out.”
Punch sighed as he carefully stepped up to Toxitron. “Come on, pal. Let’s take this outside.”
Toxitron’s response was to grab him by the neck and hurl him over the counter, sending him crashing into the bartender. As the two of them fell, Punch heard what sounded like a button or a switch being pressed, followed by a loud clunk. Before he could discern what it had been, the bartender immediately pushed him off and pulled him up to his feet.
“You two need to get out of here,” the bartender hissed into his audio receptor. “Now.”
Behind him, Punch could hear Toxitron scuffling with the bouncer. Jumping back over the counter, he moved in to break up the fight. “All right, that’s enough, Toxitron,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Not listening to him, Toxitron threw a fist into the bouncer bot’s face. This was apparently enough to send the bot crumpling to the floor. The bar went silent as Punch stood over the motionless bot, unsure if they had just been knocked offline or worse.
The noise he had heard earlier sounded again. He turned in the direction of the bar to see a large figure emerging from a door behind the counter, coming up to stand beside the bartender. The newcomer had a stocky build, looking short yet bulky at the same time. His orange and dark gray plating looked worn from the passing of time, with faint scratches and dents indicating that he had been in battle once upon a time, somewhere in the distant past. His face, bespectacled by a pair of circular blue optics, was calm and cordial as he regarded the patrons of his bar — specifically Toxitron and Punch — as if they hadn’t just been fighting in his establishment.
“What appears to be the matter here, Ebrius?” he said calmly, as if he was asking about the weather.
“Maccadam,” the bartender said quietly. “I… I’m sorry if the ruckus disturbed you from your work.”
“Not at all,” Maccadam said cheerfully, patting Ebrius on the back. “Although it did grab my attention.” He focused his gaze on Toxitron and Punch, both who were staring in awe at the fabled owner of the Old Oil House. “How may I be of service to you two?”
“Oh, uh, we were just leaving,” said Punch. “My friend here got a little inebriated and—”
“I know what you are trying to do, Punch of Harmonex,” Maccadam interjected, a mischievous gleam in his optics. “I can help you.”
The double agent stared at him, taken aback. “How… how do you know my name?”
“The same way I know who your friend used to be; who he is trying so desperately to forget.” Maccadam made a gesture with his hand, motioning the pair to follow him. “Come with me. I have the answers you seek.”
Without waiting for them, Maccadam vanished through the door he had entered from, though he left it open for the two Autobots. Punch exchanged an uncertain glance with Toxitron before stepping around the counter and heading in, with Toxitron trailing close behind.
I know it’s cliche for bartenders to somehow know everything, Punch thought to himself. But this is ridiculous.
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