CHAPTER EIGHT
“Here we are.”
Kicker opened the door to what had once been Isaac Sumdac’s office at Sumdac Tower. To Sari’s surprise and relief, not much seemed to have change since Onyx’s takeover. The portrait of her great-grandfather still hung on the wall over the fireplace; the drawings she had made for her father when she was little were still pinned to the side of a bookshelf holding his small library of business books; even all his papers and supplies were still neatly organized on his desk as always. Apparently, the Titan Masters had not bothered to touch the room at all during their stay here.
As the three of them entered the office, Kicker walked over to where the portrait hung and pulled it down, uncovering a small level built into the wall. He pulled it and the bookshelf suddenly moved, slowly sliding aside to reveal a secret entrance.
“Okay,” Verity muttered, “this is some Batman-level crap right there.”
Kicker said nothing as he walked towards the entrance and flipped another switch, flicking on a light which illuminated the next room beyond. He proceeded to walk in, with Sari and Verity following him close behind. Without a second thought, Sari armored herself up and braced herself for whatever dangers were waiting for them ahead.
The first thing she noticed was a yellow glow coming from deep within the dark room. Kicker flipped a few more switches to provide more light, giving them all a better look at what was inside. The room was very much a typical laboratory, with all sorts of machinery and equipment scattered about the room along with empty vats that were large enough to fit a person. None of those things were what drew Sari’s attention first however. Rather, it was the giant, cube-shaped mass of circuitry and machinery situated at the back of the room, radiating a bright, yellow glow.
“What… is that thing?” Sari asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kicker said quietly. The uneasiness in his tone made Sari feel that he was not lying about that. “I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”
“That’s because it is a recent addition.” The booming voice caused all three humans to jump, with Kicker deploying his own armor and drawing his energy sword. The voice seemed to come from all around them, leaving Sari and Kicker to turn in all directions in an attempt to find its source. “The Titan Masters installed it here during their temporary stay here. Fortunately, neither they did not take it with them when they decided it would be a good idea to betray me.”
“Who are you?” Kicker demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“I can direct those same questions towards you. But since you asked first… my name is Onyx Prime. I am here because of the very thing you are standing in front of. It is called the Underbase.”
“Onyx Prime,” Sari whispered. “So, you’re the one behind the Onyx company.”
“Indirectly, yes. My former herald Sovereign created it as a venue to carry out my plans, though I left the minute details to him. I must admit, his imagination towards creating names leaves… much to be desired.”
“So, what exactly was your endgame with all of that?” asked Verity. “With the ‘Onyx Interface’ and all that crap.”
“The Onyx Interface was merely a placeholder for the Underbase,” Onyx Prime replied. “The endgame was to use the Underbase’s vast knowledge bank to expose the true history of the Primes to both the Autobots and their human allies, thus turning them against one another, causing the Cybertron Alliance to collapse in on itself, and ultimately bringing an end to the Primes and their legacy.”
“But… you just called yourself a Prime,” Sari pointed out. “Why would you want to end your own legacy?”
Onyx Prime chuckled. “Ah, how perceptive. You see, young one, it is the fact that I am a Prime that allows me to realize just how tainted and corrupted our legacy is.”
“Tainted and corrupted in what way?” Sari asked. “From what I’ve seen, the current Primes — Optimus and Rodimus — are honoring your legacy just fine.”
“Oh, you poor, naive child,” the omnipresent voice admonished. “You only think that because that’s what your Autobot friends have brainwashed you to think. No, those who currently call themselves Primes are symptomatic of the larger issue at hand. They use the title to distinguish themselves from their supposed comrades; to put themselves on a pedestal above all others. Not even the Decepticons do that! You don’t see Megatron calling himself a Prime, do you?”
“No, but you also don’t see guys like Optimus Prime trying to conquer planets,” retorted Verity. “He and the other guy use their name for good. Megatron uses his for evil.”
“As if a mere human like you could fully grasp the philosophy of concepts such as ‘good’ or ‘evil.’ Don’t pretend to understand things that are beyond your comprehension.”
“Enough of this,” said Kicker. “Whatever it is you’re planning, it’s nothing we want any part in nor is it something we can allow. Are you going to show yourself and fight us like a real bot?”
Onyx Prime chuckled darkly. “You presume you are strong enough to face someone like me?”
“Between Sari and me? Yeah, I think we are.”
“Then so be it.”
Sari heard the clanging of metal followed by what sounded like a furnace burning. Before she knew it, the whole room was being lit aflame.
* * *
Alice had stopped her infernal shrieking. Bumblebee thought he should have thought pleased about this, yet somehow he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He looked at the cage containing her, still being held by Bulkhead, and saw that she had gotten into a fetal position, her blue eyes wide with terror.
“Is, uh, is something wrong with her?” he asked, though he didn’t expect either Bulkhead or Arcee to have the answers.
The other two Autobots looked at the blond techno-organic, who remained frozen in her terrified state. “It could be a ploy,” said Arcee. “Probably trying to lure us into a false sense of security.”
“At least she isn’t screaming anymore,” said Bulkhead. “I thought my audio receptors were about to give out.”
Before Bumblebee could speculate further on Alice’s behavior, he received a call on his comm from the Axalon.
“Primal here,” said the Maximal leader. “We’re detecting an absurd amount of temporal energy disruption.”
“I’m sorry, could you translate that into words I can understand?” Bumblebee asked.
“I’m just quoting Rhinox, and he’s acting a bit uneasy so I doubt further elaboration is coming. Just keep a lookout for any—”
Primal’s words trailed off at the same moment as there was a flash of light in the sky. Appearing above the city of Detroit was a large, claw-shaped spacecraft which proceeded to descend towards the Sumdac Tower.
“It’s the Predacons,” Bumblebee heard Primal say. “Stay where you are. We’ll be there shortly.”
“As if we were ever going to leave,” said Arcee, drawing a pair of blades. “Sari and Kicker are still in there. We need to stop these guys from getting into the tower.”
“Way ahead of you,” Bulkhead said as he handed Alice’s cage to Bumblebee before deploying a chained wrecking ball from his right arm. The other two Autobots stepped out of the way as Bulkhead swung the wrecking ball at the approaching Predacon ship. It struck the clawed spacecraft and, while it dealt minimal damage, it provided enough force to knock the ship off course and away from the tower.
At that moment, a ramp lowered from the ship and Bumblebee could spot a large number of Predacons waiting to jump out. While he recognized a handful of them from the encounter in Verenya, he did not recognize a good majority of them. As the Predacons started to pour out of the ship, weapons drawn, Bumblebee quickly realized that their numbers had multiplied greatly since they had last faced them in Verenya.
“Oh, we are so slagged,” he muttered.
“The Maximals are on their way,” Arcee reminded him. “It won’t just be the three of us.”
“Yeah, but there’s only, what, four or five of them? These Predacons are in the dozens!”
“We’ve dealt with worse, haven’t we, ‘Bee?” Bulkhead asked. “We always pull through in the end.”
Not wanting to ruin his friend’s optimism, Bumblebee said nothing as he converted his left hand into a stinger while still holding Alice’s cage in his other arm. At the very least, he was grateful that the techno-organic was keeping quiet and not doing anything to ruin his concentration.
It was only seconds before the Predacons began their attack that he glanced at the cage and realized that its ray shield had been disabled… and that Alice was nowhere to be seen.
* * *
“How is he?”
“His systems and primary sensors appear to be offline, but I’m still getting a spark-pulse from him,” Punch said as he knelt beside an unconscious Sandstorm. The Wreckers had managed to retrieve him from the ocean and brought him to the nearest landmass they could find, an isolated island in the middle of nowhere. “He’s gonna need some repairs on his chestplate though; his spark casing is exposed.”
Springer grimaced. “I’m afraid any repair kits we had sank with the Xantium. How long do you think he’ll last before we can get him to Ratchet or someone?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Punch snapped at him. “I’m not a medic! Hell, have you guys ever had a medic?”
“Fastfix was one,” Kup grunted. “Fell during the Decepticons’ resurgence a couple of years ago. That was where Scoop and the Jumpstarters met their end.”
“Too bad he wasn’t brought back along with us,” said Topspin. “I wonder why he was passed over.”
At this, Whirl tensed and Springer spared him a glance. Kup noticed the exchange and was quick to change the subject.
“Listen, kid,” he said to Springer. “I think this whole mission’s a bust. We’ve lost the Xantium and we’re about to lose Sandstorm. There’s no way in blazes we’re gonna be able to last against Sixshot, let alone whatever army Megatron is keeping over at his little camp. It’s over, Springer. It’s time to accept that.”
Springer said nothing in response, staring out at the endless ocean. Twin Twist threw up his arms as he dropped himself to the ground dejectedly.
“That’s it then, huh?” said the drill-tank Jumpstarter. “This is the ‘last stand of the Wreckers?’ I’m sure this’ll be a memorable story in the record books. I don’t think even Fisitron would have been proud of this entry.”
Springer rolled his hands into fists as he shuttered his optics. “Rack’n’Ruin.”
Twin Twist blinked as he and the others looked at their leader in confusion. “Huh?”
“Roadbuster. Leadfoot. Scoop. Fastfix. Pyro. Rotorstorm.”
“Oh, god,” Kup muttered, stepping over to place a hand on Springer’s shoulder. “Kid, don’t start this. Don’t… you’ve gotta pull yourself together—”
Springer knocked his hand aside. “Ironfist! Impactor! All of these bots died under my command, Kup! I’m the one who has to burden the blame!”
“Some of those deaths were outside your control!” Kup objected. “Impactor wasn’t even following your orders when he pulled off his stunt. And how could any of us have known about what Roadbuster was going through?”
“They were still my responsibility,” Springer said. “I was their commander. Their leader.”
“What, you think Impactor didn’t lose bots under his command? Hyperion? Crest? We all have the blood of our comrades on our hands. Even Optimus. Even me. But do we stop pushing ahead because of that? Do we ever let that stop us from making up for our mistakes.”
“Maybe we should,” Springer said quietly. “Because it seems like whenever we try to make up for our mistakes, we just end up repeating them.”
Kup opened his mouth to deliver another objection… yet no words came out. Closing up with a grimace, he directed his attention back to Sandstorm.
“We should probably call for an orbital jump back to Metroplex,” the veteran Autobot said. “I’m sure Elita’s gonna give us hell for what we just pulled off, but I don’t see what else we can do.”
“I’ll tell you what we can do,” Springer said. “We continue the mission.”
Kup shot him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious, kid. Didn’t you hear a word I just said?”
“I’ve been listening to every single one. But it changes nothing. We have a mission and we are going to complete it.”
“Yeah, a mission you came up with,” Punch interjected. “Just now, you were going on about how you felt responsible for the deaths of everyone who’s served under you. You even dissuaded Sandstorm from tackling on Sixshot by himself. Now you want us to go to Megatron’s Decepticon camp and… and do what? Die in a blaze of glory?”
“No one is going to die,” Springer said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Not on my watch.”
“Then how do you propose we proceed with the mission that in a way that does not involve our spectacularly stupid deaths?”
Springer smirked. “I recruited you for a reason, Punch. How else do you think we’re going to utilize your talents?”
Punch stared at him confusedly until he glanced back at Sandstorm, at which point his optics widened in realization and dread. “You can’t be serious….”
“I have no idea what’s happening,” said Whirl. “But judging by the way you guys are acting, I can tell I’m gonna love it.”
* * *
“Anything on the scanners today?”
Wingspan directed a sidelong glance to his brother Pounce as the latter approached his station, situated out in the open Decepticon camp. “What did I tell you the last twelve times you’ve asked me that?”
Pounce rolled his optics. “It’s our job to keep checking the airspace to make sure the Autobots don’t try anything funny. Any second now, that Titan of their’s is gonna appear on the radar.”
“Oh, it’s ‘our’ job now?” Wingspan snapped. “Because for the past three hours, you’ve been spending more time getting a refuel then you have monitoring your station.”
“I have not!” Pounce protested. “Besides, my scanner is only for the ground. You’ve got the aerial one.”
“Right. And like I said, there hasn’t been anything for the last—” Wingspan trailed off as he straightened up in his seat and actually looked at his monitor. He then looked to the sky before looking back down.
“What is it?” Pounce asked.
“I could have sworn I saw—”
Both Decepticon Clones let out a yelp as a massive figure in green, white, and purple armor landed in front of them. While Wingspan fell out of his seat, Pounce fumbled for his blaster and pointed it at the larger robot, only to hesitate when he realized who it was standing before him.
“Wait a minute… Sixshot? I thought… we all thought you were dead! No one’s seen you since you went after Scorponok over a century—”
“Where is Megatron?” Sixshot rumbled.
Pounce blinked and glanced at Wingspan, who was still laying on the ground in shock. “Um… pardon?”
“I know he’s here,” the Six Changer said, looking around the Decepticon camp. Already his presence had started to garner attraction and a crowd of Decepticons were beginning to form. “Where is he?”
“He, uh, he’s probably at Trypticon. Most likely in the big purple tower or… or whatever it is.” Pounce pointed at the location in question before looking back up at Sixshot. “Er, why do you want to know?”
“He and I have some catching up to do,” Sixshot simply replied. “It has been over a hundred years, after all.”
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