CHAPTER NINE
Cybertron, Maccadam’s Old Oil House
“We’re closed for the night! Everybody out! Out!”
Maccadam disregarded the confused and angry noises coming from the remaining patrons as he quickly made his way to the room behind the bar. He had enough faith in Ebrius and the rest of the crew that they would get everyone out in a safe and efficient manner.
Slamming the door shut behind him, Maccadam hurried down the corridor that led him deep beneath the Oil House, down paths that no one but him had been down in the thousands of years the Oil House had been here. They eventually led him to a chamber that he never thought he would be forced to return to for as long as he lived.
Thousands of years ago, during the short-lived peace in the Age of the Primes, Iaconus had been one of the Titans that reawakened following the Treaty of Crystal City. Many of the Primes were familiar with the legends that surrounded Iaconus, particularly his status as a “Warrior Titan.” This naturally made him a subject of interest for the barbaric Megatronus, who quickly attempted to claim Iaconus for his tribe. The other Primes opposed this, seeing an alliance between the two as a dangerous combination, and instead suggested that Maccadam — Alchemist Prime as he was known then — be the one to ally with the Titan, in the hopes that his peaceful nature would be an appropriate balance for the ancient warrior.
Megatronus, of course, had objected to this but was overruled by the others. Even Liege Maximo had backed the proposition, for reasons that remained unclear to this day.
Once it was decided, Alchemist had extended his offer of an alliance to Iaconus and, much to the other Primes’ relief, the Titan had accepted. Even Alchemist was surprised with how smoothly they got along from that point onward.
Then, Antilla happened.
Around 250 years after their alliance had been formed, Prima had proposed that the Primes extend their reach beyond Cybertron and begin an interstellar colonization mission. Among the first worlds that they made contact with was a world in the Antillian system, not far from Cybertron. Onyx Prime and Megatronus had been sent to spearhead the colonization effort, flanked by the Omega Sentinels and the Titans Nemesis and Iaconus. The latter had come at the behest of Megatronus, which Alchemist Prime only agreed to if he was brought along.
To this day, Maccadam wished he had rejected the request.
Contact with the native Antillans did not go as plan and the “colonization” quickly turned into an invasion. The Omega Sentinels laid waste to the planet and Iaconus, for whom conflict was second nature, was quick to join them. Despite his best efforts, Alchemist Prime was unable to stop the Titan’s onslaught and the conflict was only brought to an end when the Antillans activated a weapon that would wipe out all life on the planet, forcing the Cybertronians to flee.
Upon returning to Cybertron, the other Primes were informed of what had happened and the decision was made to put Iaconus into permanent stasis. Naturally, the Titan was resistant to this idea and it took the force of all thirteen Primes, the Omega Sentinels, and even some of the other Titans to put him down for good. Iaconus was subsequently buried beneath Cybertron in the site that would one day become the city of Iacon, unwittingly named for the fabled Titan.
Only the Primes and anyone else involved knew of the Titan’s true fate, while the rest of Cybertron — including Titan Masters such as Sovereign — was informed that Iaconus had been among those killed during the Battle of Antilla. For the next several thousands of years, Alchemist Prime — now Maccadam — had harbored this secret of his and dared not share it with a single spark; not even with those he considered his trusted confidants, such as Ebrius.
That, of course, was all about to change.
Maccadam spared a moment to calm his cooling fans as he stood in Iaconus’ command center. He wasn’t surprised that he was still questioning himself whether or not this was the right course of action. Deep down, however, he knew that he had no other choice. The Lenses had showed him what was happening, and what was going to happen if he did not act now.
Before there could be another second of hesitation, Maccadam accessed the main computer and woke the sleeping giant.
* * *
The ground thundered as Fortress Maximus rose into his robot mode. Down below, Autobots were scurrying around his feet as they called for him to stand down. He paid no heed to their pleas as he instead set his sights on the point of his consternation.
Vividly did he recall the time when he and his fellow Titans had been forced to put down their brother Iaconus during the Age of the Primes. It had pained him to have been put in such a situation, but he knew deep down that Iaconus was a threat to the peace that the Titans and the Primes had fought to maintain… even if the Primes themselves would eventually undo that peace themselves.
The fact that Iaconus was even still alive was a secret that Fortress Maximus had been forced to keep for thousands of years, even from the Titan Masters that he held in his trust. He had not taken into account that someone like Sovereign would have eventually discovered the truth; perhaps it was his own fault for not hiding it better.
Of course, none of it mattered now. Only the present did.
As Fortress Maximus began to step in the direction of Maccadam’s Old Oil House, he could already see that the building was starting to shift… albeit not to transform. At least, not yet. He recognized a space bridge activation when he saw one and knew exactly what Iaconus was about to do. It was simply a question of where he was going.
Fortunately, Fortress Maximus had a way of finding out exactly that.
As Iaconus entered the last stage of teleportation, Fortress Maximus began tracing the energy traces and made his internal calculations before activating his own space bridge. Autobot fliers circled around him in an attempt to stop him, as if that was going to do any good.
Within the span of a few seconds, both Titans were gone.
* * *
“Can I just say… that I’m really sick of Titans?”
No one responded to Punch’s remark, though he was pretty certain they were sharing in his frustration with the present situation. Windblade in particular was staring in the spot that Fortress Maximus once was before he had transformed and teleported away, along with Maccadam’s Old Oil House. Rising from that spot was Dai Atlas, rubbing his head as he was helped to his feet by a pair of Autobots.
“Do you know what just happened?” Windblade asked her fellow councilor as he started to walk towards her and the audience that had gathered around the scene.
“I… don’t remember,” Dai Atlas muttered. “Last thing I can recall is Cerebros showing me the Prowl clone and then… nothing.”
“He must’ve been shadow-played,” Punch said. “Are there any mnemosurgeons on record?”
“Only one that comes to mind is Stylor, one of the Titan Masters.” Windblade glanced at Punch, noticing his expression shadowing. “You don’t think they’re behind this, do you?”
“I do, actually. When we visited Maccadam’s, their leader — Sovereign, is it? — barged in and threw a fit over someone named ‘Iaconus.’ We never did find out what that was all about.”
“Iaconus?” Windblade repeated the name, a quizzical look crossing her features. “That name sounds familiar….”
“I’m guessing he’s another Titan,” Punch went on, nodding in the direction of where Maccadam’s had just been. “A Titan that everyone’s favorite bartender has been hiding for Primus knows how long.”
“And we have no way of knowing where they went,” Windblade muttered. “Fantastic.”
“I take it we don’t have any other Titans on reserve?”
Windblade shook her head. “Metroplex is with the Earthforce, and we now have no way of reaching him.”
“I’m sure we can send a message to Optimus Prime and tell him what has happened,” said Dai Atlas. “There’s no need to give up on hope just yet.”
“Maybe not,” Punch said. “But what are we supposed to do now? Just twiddle our servos?”
Dai Atlas glanced at him. “If you have any suggestions, then I’m open to hearing them.”
“Fine, here’s one.” Punch stepped up to Dai Atlas until they were mere inches apart, unperturbed by the fact that the councilor was much taller than him. “How about we get off our afts and actually do something about this instead of crying to Prime.”
“Punch,” Windblade started to say in a warning tone.
Punch held up a hand to her. “Don’t start with me, Camien. I know your type, as well as Dai Atlas’; you’d rather sit around in your council chambers and do your political maneuvering while you leave bots like me to risk our necks going deep behind enemy lines and getting our afts handed to us.”
“It’s not like that at all,” Windblade retorted. “Both Dai Atlas and I are just as capable as combatants as we are leaders. Both of us were there for the battles against Unicron and Thunderwing.”
“That’s great and all, but I’m not seeing those bots,” Punch said. “I’m just seeing two politicians who would much rather react than act. This is the third time in as many years that Cybertron has been threatened by some mysterious force. First it was Unicron. Then Thunderwing. Now its this Grand Architect. God knows what next cycle will bring.”
“We are doing everything we can to address the current situation,” Dai Atlas protested. “We’ve already sent Star Saber and his crew to investigate the Grand Architect—”
“Yeah, and where are they? Where’s Rodimus Prime? You know, our leader?”
Dai Atlas scowled. “Just now I was trying to get Rodimus back before all of this happened! Fortress Maximus was our only lead and now he’s gone!”
“Then find another one! Maybe Metroplex can help out; he’s a Titan isn’t he?”
“METROPLEX IS DEAD!” Dai Atlas bellowed, startling Punch enough for him to take a step back. “He’s just a flying husk of a corpse now, use to ferry Prime’s Autobots! It’s a disgrace to the legacy of Primus!”
“Enough, both of you,” Windblade said, trying to step in between the two. “I know we’re all frustrated over this, but arguing and screaming isn’t going to solve anything. We need to take a moment to collect ourselves.”
“We don’t have a moment,” Punch snapped. “Rodimus and Star Saber and everyone else could already be dead, for all we know. All because of our own inaction.”
“They’re not dead.”
All three bots turned to look at Toxitron, standing nearby. The sickly colored “clone” of Optimus had been silent the whole time, to the point where Punch had even forgotten he was there.
“And how do you know that?” Punch asked.
“I’m getting a distress call,” Toxitron replied, uncharacteristically quiet and composed. “From Magna Convoy.”
“Who?” both Punch and Windblade asked, while Dai Atlas wore a knowing look.
“Do you know where he is?” the councilor asked.
“On Planet X, in the Benzene Cluster. I have the coordinates.”
“Then let us not waste any time.”
Punch looked back up at Dai Atlas, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. “Oh, so you’ve been keeping secrets as well?”
Dai Atlas smirked. “Not secrets. Just information that hasn’t been relevant in eleven hundred years.”
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