CHAPTER SEVEN
Cybertron - Outside Maccadam’s
“Sovereign? Can you hear me?”
Sovereign groaned as his systems booted back online. After readjusting his optics, he saw that he was no longer inside Maccadam’s Oil House but rather outside, slumped against a wall in the alleyway. As he tried to recollect himself and recall what had just happened, his communicator pinged again.
“Sovereign, come in. Do you copy?”
The Titan Master answered the comm. “I copy, Hazard,” he grumbled.
“Where the blazes are you? Infinitus told me you had gone to Maccadam’s, but they’re closed for the night.”
“I’m out in the alleyway. I’m guessing they tossed me out or something.”
“You’re guessing? You didn’t get yourself wasted, did you?”
“Shut up and find me already,” Sovereign muttered.
A few minutes later, a tall bot in light gray and red appeared from around the corner. Having been among the Titan Masters who had been part of Apex’s hijacking plot, Hazard had since taken on a larger Transtector body with a design reminiscent of the Decepticon Seekers. It was a practice that many Cyberdroids, including the Titan Masters, had taken up following Nova Prime’s rise to power so as to avoid prejudice. While there wasn’t much point to it now in today’s society, Sovereign supposed it did make Cyberdroids’ lives easier when dealing with other full-sized Cybertronians.
As Hazard approached Sovereign, he looked down at the Titan Master with a hint of amusement on his faceplate. “You didn’t really answer my question,” he said dryly.
“Alchemist Prime lives,” Sovereign replied, guesting at the Oil House next to him. “He’s been living in Iaconus, posing as a bar owner, for the past seven thousand years.”
“Is that right?” Hazard observed the building, not as fazed by the revelation as Sovereign thought he would have been. “That’s interesting.”
“Interesting?” Sovereign shot back. “Hazard, you know who Iaconus is. You know what it means that he is still functioning and still on Cybertron!”
“I’m not sure that I do. I mean, he hasn’t exactly been doing much, has he?”
Sovereign shook his head. “You and I both know that years of inactivity does not preclude things from actually happening. We need to shut him down permanently.”
Hazard looked back at him. “And how do you propose we do that?”
“I might have an idea,” Sovereign said quietly. “But first, we need to gather the other Titan Masters before we can proceed.”
“You’re not thinking of pulling another Apex, are you? That didn’t go so well last time, and the Autobots are already wary of us as it is.”
“It was never about gaining their trust, Hazard. It was simply about preparing them for what is to come.”
Walking past Hazard, Sovereign stepped out of the alleyway and onto the streets of Iacon, looking in the direction of Fortress Maximus.
“And if that means jeopardizing what little trust they have in us… then so be it.”
Cybertron - Fortress Maximus
“Here he is.”
Dai Atlas stood in front of the cell containing the mysterious “clone” (or whatever he was) that called himself Prowl. Like Cerebros had said, the strange white-and-black bot was in an offline state and displayed no signs of life. If he hadn’t been told otherwise, Dai Atlas would have thought he was dead.
“And do you have a mnemosurgeon on hand to extract his memories?” Dai Atlas asked.
Cerebros nodded and gestured to a small tan and red bot, who stepped forward. “Infinitus tells me Stylor here is one.”
“I can’t make any guarantees that I’ll be able to get anything out of him,” Stylor admitted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got some firewalls in place.”
“Regardless, do whatever you can,” Dai Atlas said.
After Cerebros had lowered the shield to Prowl’s cell, Stylor stepped in and climbed onto the immobile bot, positioning himself behind the bot’s neck. Extending a set of needles from his fingers, the Titan Master plunged them into Prowl’s neck and got to work.
While Stylor operated on the clone, Dai Atlas turned back to look at Cerebros. “Have you had a chance to see if there are any other means of reaching Rodimus Prime via the space bridge?”
Cerebros shook his head. “I haven’t been able to bring up the same list that Sovereign did. However, he did say that Metrotitan is still online, and he was one of the Titans who went after Liege Maximo. While I’m not exactly sure where Metrotitan is, he might be our only chance at reaching Rodimus.”
Dai Atlas silently nodded as he returned his attention to Stylor. As soon as he did, the Titan Master pulled his needles out of Prowl’s neck and jumped off of the clone as it fell lifelessly to the floor.
“What happened?” Dai Atlas asked.
“He’s dead,” Stylor replied. “I think he has been for some time.”
“That’s not right,” Cerebros muttered, stepping into the cell to give the body a closer look. “His vitals were in functioning order when I checked them on the scanners just a few deca-cycles ago.”
“His vital functions are operating, but not his spark,” said Stylor. “Because he doesn’t have one.”
Cerebros looked confused as he rolled the clone onto its back and opened up its chest plate. Indeed, where a spark and its chamber would have been was instead a simple circuit board, its wires having been somehow disconnected and permanently disabled.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “What even is he?”
“He’s a member of the Second Generation,” Stylor explained. “The children of Liege Maximo.”
Dai Atlas looked at him skeptically. “How do you know about that?”
“I lived during the Age of the Primes, as did my fellow Titan Masters. The Second Generation had always been a talking point in Liege Maximo’s vision for Cybertron, as the next point of evolution for the Cybertronian race. Rather than rely on sparks for life, they would instead run on pure energy and fuel. Even after the hot spots went cold and Vector Sigma became dormant, the Cybertronian race would live on through the Second Generation.”
“And Maximo was successful in giving birth to this ‘generation?’”
“Not during my time,” Stylor replied. “But, based on how this bot is built and considering he is already associated in some way with Liege Maximo, I have no doubt that that is what he is.”
“Fantastic,” Dai Atlas grumbled. “So we’re still back where we started.”
Suddenly, Cerebros stood up and turned to face Stylor. “You’re a Titan Master, aren’t you? Can you access Fort Max’s database?”
“Uh, I can try. Why?”
“Sovereign saw something in it that caused him to run out. I want to find out what it was.”
“Shouldn’t we focus on finding Rodimus?” Dai Atlas asked.
“It’ll have to wait.” Striding out of the cell, Cerebros beckoned the other two to follow him. “Follow me.”
While Dai Atlas started to follow Cerebros, Stylor did not. The two Autobots both stopped to look at the Titan Master, regarding him suspiciously.
“Aren’t you coming?” Dai Atlas asked.
Stylor’s expression was blank and unreadable. He didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the Autobots at all and instead appeared to be deep in thought. After a pressing few moments, he looked back up at the other two and frowned.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Kord,” the Titan Master said.
Cerebros shifted at the name. It was the same name the Titan Masters had addressed him with during their abduction plot. “What are you—”
Out of nowhere, a blaster bolt flew across the room and struck Dai Atlas in the back. The councilor cried as he fell face-first to the floor, at which point Stylor jumped onto him and inserted needles into his neck.
“Stop! Get off of him!” Cerebros moved to lunge at Stylor only for a strong hand to grab him by the shoulder and pull him back. Cerebros turned around to see Infinitus standing before him, a gun in hand.
“Infinitus! What’s going on? What is the meaning of this?”
Infinitus’ expression was one of solemnity. “I’m sorry, Kord. This has to be done. For the good of all of Cybertron.”
Cerebros stepped back from him. “You keep calling me that. That’s not my name. My name is Cerebros!”
“I wish this reunion could have been under better circumstances.”
Before Cerebros could do anything, Infinitus struck him in the face with the back of his gun. As he fell to the floor, Stylor moved from Dai Atlas and climbed onto Cerebros, brandishing his needles.
“It is time you finally remember who you are, Kord,” Infinitus went on. “Who you are meant to be.”
Cerebros could barely scream as the needles injected into his neck and the world exploded around him.
Cybertron - High Council Pavilions
“I would like to request an audience with the Council.”
The Autobot guard standing outside the chambers of the Council of Worlds regarded Punch with a look of disinterest. “Do you have a permit?” he grumbled.
“I don’t have time for bureaucratic nonsense,” Punch retorted. “This is important.”
“Really. How important are we talking about?”
“Important enough that I don’t need to go through any frivolous channels like yourself.”
The guard shifted his gaze from Punch to Maccadam and Toxitron, who stood behind the double agent. “And what are these two here for?”
Punch put a hand on Maccadam’s shoulder. “You’ve been to Maccadam’s Old Oil House, haven’t you?” he asked the guard.
“Once or twice.”
“Well, you’re looking at the fabled owner himself. He’s come out of a several millennia-long period of obscurity to speak with the Council. That’s how important this is.”
“What, did his bar license expire?”
At this, Maccadam let out a hearty laugh, which caught Punch off-guard. “Oh, that’s a very good guess,” the proprietor said. “In fact, I don’t think it’s been renewed since the fall of the High Council. Technically, I should be arrested.”
“I’m this close from doing so,” the guard grunted. “Now get lost before I—”
Toxitron stepped forward and threw his fist into the guard’s face, knocking them offline. He then swiped the bot’s security card and used it to open the door, all before Punch could utter a word of protest.
“You’re going to get us all in trouble,” Punch hissed.
Toxitron ignored him as he stepped through the door. Punch and Maccadam followed him and the trio found themselves staring down the barrels of several guns pointed at their faces.
“Identify yourselves!” ordered one of the security officers standing between them and the handful of councilors present in the chamber.
Punch raised an arm and displayed a small holographic image from his wrist. “Punch of Harmonex. Agent C-111 of the Autobot Secret Service. Pleasure to meet you.”
The officer regarded the hologram with a look of skepticism. “These credentials are out of date.”
“Your motherboard is out of date. Let us through.”
“Stand down, all of you.” Windblade came up from behind the security guards, eying Punch and his group warily. “What is going on here?”
“Maccadam here has some secrets he would like to share with you.” Punch glared at the proprietor in question. “Isn’t that right?”
“Maccadam? As in the owner of the Old Oil House?” Windblade stared at the orange bot in astonishment. “You’re really him?”
“Indeed I am,” Maccadam replied. “I will admit, I was not expecting to reveal myself to the public either, yet here we are.”
“Right,” Punch muttered. “So, you want to start spilling the beans or does Toxitron have to hit you with a door?”
Maccadam opened his mouth to speak… only to stop, his cheerful expression suddenly dropping and replaced with a look of dread. The lenses which covered his optics started to glow brightly, just as they had when Toxitron wore them.
“No,” he murmured. “Not now.”
“What is it?” Windblade asked, pushing past the guards to stand in front of Maccadam.
“It’s already begun. The Drilling has commenced. Too late to stop it. The Beast is on its way.”
“What ‘Beast?’ What the hell is ‘the Drilling?’”
Maccadam said nothing. Instead, he turned around and, with a surprising amount of strength, pushed Punch and Toxitron aside before dashing for the door. The Autobots quickly moved to pursue him, but when they stepped outside of the hall, Maccadam was nowhere to be seen, with nary a trace of him.
Raising a hand to her comm, Windblade said, “This is Councilor Windblade to security! Dispatch all available units to Maccadam’s Old Oil House!”
“Er, bit of a problem with that, Councilor,” responded the voice of Checkpoint.
Windblade frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Fortress Maximus has come online. And he’s already headed there.”
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