CHAPTER THREE
Metroplex
“Forgive me for sounding skeptical,” said Dai Atlas, speaking via viewscreen along with his fellow councilor Windblade. “But I find all of this very hard to believe.”
“I don’t blame you,” Sari Sumdac said, standing before the gathered Autobots in Metroplex’s command center. She had never felt so small in her life, standing in the presence of so many giant alien robots. “To be honest, this all feels like a very bad dream.”
“If only it were,” muttered Elita-One. “So what you’re saying is that the Destructons actually succeeded in transforming Earth into Unicron… but you stopped it by going back in time?”
“I guess so,” Sari said, shrugging. “I’m still not exactly sure what happened. When the Predacons jumped into hyperspace or whatever, we got caught in something called the Warren and it threw me back in time to just moments before that Primus guy was about to pull the Talisman’s switch.”
“But the Destructons pulled the switch anyway?”
“Yeah, but the Talisman was damaged in the process so I guess it didn’t do everything they were expecting it to do.” Sari paused to take a deep breath. “And then Goldwheels blew up the Talisman and himself.”
“Goldwheels?” asked Windblade.
Elita waved her off. “Long story. So where are the Destructons now?”
“No idea,” said Sari. “My guess is they’re trying to find a way to finish Earth’s transformation. I’m not sure how much time that gives us….”
“In my experience, it’s usually never enough.” Elita looked over to Rodimus Prime, who had not spoken since the debriefing session started. “What are your thoughts on this? I understand you had some experience with time travel when you were captain of the Lost Light?”
“I did,” Rodimus said. “But the understanding I got from it was that you can’t undo the past; only plant the seeds for the present. At least, that’s the simplest way Perceptor and Brainstorm could put it. Speaking of which….”
His optics drifted over to the two Autobot scientists in question, who were present in the room. The one called Brainstorm, a light blue and gray bot with wings, seemed the most uncomfortable under Rodimus’s gaze as he started shifting his feet.
“I will say,” Brainstorm started to say, “that just before you called us all in here, Perceptor and I had started detecting strange traces of chronal energy. At first we thought it was just from the Predacons’ transwarp jump. But then….”
“Then we started noticing a… fissure in the fabric of space and time,” Perceptor continued. “I am not sure how else to put it, but… let us pretend that our universe is wrapped around some sort of fabric, like a curtain or a blanket. This fissure that we’ve detected is like someone’s taken a blade and started cutting through that fabric. And that tear is growing wider by the minute.”
“Which means what?” asked Rodimus.
“We’re not sure yet. But I doubt it can mean anything good.”
“Fantastic.” Rodimus sighed. “So to recap for everyone: The Destructons are planning to turn Earth into a body for Unicron, the Decepticons are god-knows-where, and the universe is literally falling apart or something like that. And we have no idea what to do at this point.”
“What about the Grand Architect?” asked Dai Atlas. “You said that you’ve finally managed to capture him.”
“We have, but he hasn’t been giving us anything useful. To be honest, I get the impression that he’s as lost as we are.”
Windblade tilted her head. “I thought the Grand Architect was the one behind all of this in the first place.”
“So did I, but it looks like he was just being played like a fiddle by the Destructons.”
“A what now?” questioned Dai Atlas.
Rodimus waved him off. “Nothing. Just an Earth expression.”
“Well, in any case,” said Windblade, “we will prepare the fleet in case the Destructons or the Decepticons—or both—come back in full force. Radio us when you find sight of them.”
“Will do,” said Elita-One. “In the meantime, standby for further instruction.”
With that, Dai Atlas and Windblade signed off and their faces vanished from the viewscreens. All that was left was the face of Optimus Prime, who had remained silent for the duration of the meeting. From what Sari understood, Optimus had entrusted primary command of the Autobots to Rodimus while he stayed on as more of an advisor. At the start of the session, Optimus had made it clear to the others that he would not speak on the situation until he and Rodimus were alone to discuss it. Apparently this was now their cue as Brainstorm, Perceptor, and others in the room started to file out. Elita-One seemed to linger for a moment before following suit, gesturing for Sari to fly alongside her.
After taking one last look at the two Primes, Sari followed the Autobots out of the command center before the doors slammed shut behind her.
* * *
“You’re really going through with this?”
“I feel like I have to,” Optimus Prime replied. “This may very well be my last chance to tie up loose ends before it is too late.”
Rodimus Prime frowned at his predecessor’s image on the viewscreen. “I’ve lost count of all the chances you’ve given him. Not to mention all of the times he’s died and come back to life. Do you really think he’s going to change at this point?”
“Honestly? Not really,” Optimus admitted. “However, I feel obligated to at least try… if only for the sake of my own peace of mind.”
“Even if it means your death?”
Optimus Prime was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. Naturally, his faceplate made it difficult for Rodimus to gauge his expression.
“I have considered the probability of such an outcome,” the elder Prime finally said. “Hopefully it will not come to that. But if it does….”
Optimus did not finish that thought but Rodimus did not need him to. With a sigh, the younger Prime turned away and stared at the door Elita and the others had gone through.
“You and I both know how Elita will feel about this,” Rodimus said quietly “Hell, it’s how most of us probably feel. You’re honestly just as guilty as Megatron when it comes to disappearing and dying and coming back and all that scrap.”
“I understand,” Optimus said solemnly. “In any case, I assure you that this will be the last time.”
“Given the low probability of you coming out of this alive, I can’t say that’s very reassuring.”
Optimus seemed as if he was about to reply only to think better of it. Instead, he said, “I will be joining you aboard Metroplex shortly. Make sure the space bridge is ready when I arrive.”
Rodimus said nothing as his predecessor’s image winked out, leaving the viewscreen blank. For several minutes, he simply stood there in the empty command center, listening to the quiet hum of Metroplex’s systems. Then, he turned over to one of the consoles and pressed a button on it. Within seconds, the viewscreen turned on again and the image of an Autobot with a very similar appearance to Optimus Prime materialized.
“Convoy, this is Rodimus Prime. I want you to join me in the brig in less than a megacycle….”
* * *
“You know, it should really be me in there.”
Kup sat in front of the CR chamber containing the grievously injured Springer. Punch had walked in on the veteran Autobot not knowing how long he had been in here. For all he knew, Kup had been here from the moment Springer was thrown into the CR chamber after he and the other Wreckers were rescued from the Decepticons’ camp. Whirl and the Jumpstarters had already been discharged from the repair bay, as Punch had run into them on the way here. The fact that Springer had yet to be released in any way did not bode well for the Wrecker leader’s fate.
“I should have done more to talk him out of that godforsaken plan,” Kup went on, barely acknowledging Punch’s presence. “I knew it wasn’t going to end well for us. These things never do. But you know how he is. He’s got that charm to him, you know. That charisma. Always finds a way to get you to see the bright side to any foolish plan he’s got cooked up.”
“It’s a miracle he’s lasted as long as he has,” Punch said. He immediately regretted it when Kup shot him a look. Rather than chew him out however, the veteran simply returned his gaze to the CR chamber.
“I’ve been through this song and dance before,” Kup muttered. “This time last year, in fact. He got done in by Ragnarok, who turned out to be Thunderwing. Somehow he managed to pull through; I can only hope that he does the same here.”
“Have the doctors said anything about him?” Punch asked.
“Ratchet doesn’t want to say anything conclusive yet. Springer is a… unique case when it comes to spark types and whatnot.”
“How so?”
Kup seemed to hesitate in replying only to then let out a tired sigh. “Suppose I might as well tell you. Not much point in keeping it a secret anymore.”
As Punch sat down next to Kup, the older Autobot began telling his story:
“In Cycle 8818, four years into the war, Mesothulas—who you know now as Tarantulas—created an artificial Transformer named Ostaros. This bot’s spark had a synthesized copy of the Matrix’s energy field, meaning no one could ever guess that he was something different than forged or cold constructed bots. Prowl used to work with Mesothulas during this time, but when he decided that Mesothulas had crossed a line, he destroyed his lab and everything in it. Everything except Ostaros, that is. Prowl couldn’t bring himself to kill him and instead brought him into the Autobots, giving him a new name and a full set of false memories. I was the only one of his mentors and commanding officers to be given even a small inkling of the truth, and overtime I was able to piece together the full story for myself.”
“Does Springer himself know?” Punch asked.
“No,” Kup grunted. “And unless he gets out of there, he never will.”
Punch looked back at the CR chamber. “And him being artificially born means Ratchet and the others can’t figure out how to fix him?”
“I don’t know,” Kup admitted. “I told Ratchet the truth about Springer just a few megacycles ago and he said he’s not well versed in those kinds of things to know for sure.”
“And it’s not like Tarantulas is around to give us a hand,” Punch muttered. “Not that he would.”
“Actually, he most likely would,” said Kup. “From what Prowl told me, Tarantulas cherished all of his creations, including Ostaros. I’m sure he would have put aside factional differences to fix his child any way he could.”
Silence fell over the two Autobots as they continued to watch the CR chamber containing Springer. Punch briefly debated whether or not to ask what would become of the Wreckers should Springer not pull through (or even if he did). However, he decided that now was not the appropriate time to ask such a question and elected instead to stay quiet.
Besides, he didn’t want to know the answer either way.
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