Sunday, December 31, 2023

From the Archives: Transformers Beyond - A Space Oddity (unfinished story)

 Capping off the year with an unfinished story. A Regenerated reboot that never went anywhere. Started writing on January 29, 2018; not sure when I abandoned it. Only wrote five chapters.

I: FAR ABOVE THE MOON

    Out on the farthest fringes of space, outside of any charted sector, a single green ship hovered over a barren moon—one of fifty that orbited the gas giant LCS-857-B. The moon itself probably had a number designation of its own, but for the life of him Cosmos could not remember it as, so far, he had only one number taking precedence in his mind:

    Zero. 

    Zero energon readings. Thirty-seven out of fifty moons so far had not a single ounce of energon. What were the odds the others would have any? He had no doubt the number would be the same.

    Not for the first time he wondered why he was even doing this. The real answer, of course, was because Sentinel Prime had sent him out here. But why send him out all this way? The chances of some remote moon containing energon were so close to nil that it was a waste of energon to go through all this trouble.

    Of course, there was no way in Pit he was going to say as much to Sentinel Prime; not unless he wanted a demotion. He supposed he should have just been grateful that he wasn’t under Zeta Prime’s command; the slightest indication of one’s dissatisfaction in their assignment earned you a permanent place in Garrus-9 for treason.

    Knowing that there was no way he was going to get out of this, Cosmos set course for the next moon—which just had to be on the other side of the planet. As soon as Cosmos found the cosmic deity responsible for such an arrangement, he was going to seriously hurt them.

    As he blasted across the gas giant’s hemisphere, his systems began to ping with energy readings. This surprised Cosmos; was there actually energon on one of these moons? Had he just picked the wrong side of the planet to start with? It wouldn’t be the first time his luck had turned out as such.

    Still, he was eager to finally bring back some good news to the Orbital Command Hub. Kicking on his thrusters, he raced towards the moon…

    …And found himself face-to-face with a Decepticon warship.

*  *  *

    “Anything yet?”

    The green-plated Decepticon leaned over his console, yellow optics fixated on the scanner. “Nothing, captain. Not a single ship in sight.”

    Skyquake scowled as he glared at the officer from his command seat. “Charger, you know that the last thing any of us wants is to turn back around and tell Overlord that we failed to capture a single Autobot ship. So when next I ask if there is something on the radar, do not even think to tell me there is absolutely nothing. Because there is something and we’re going to bring it back to him. Are we clear?”

    Charger blinked before nodding. “Uh, y-yes, sir.”

    “Good.” Skyquake leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the arm rest. “Now then, keep searching. A ship as small as that couldn’t have gotten—”

    “Um, sir?” A grey and blue Decepticon was looking back at him, green optics wide. “There’s something right in front of us.”

    Skyquake launched from his seat. “There is?!” He squinted out the Darklon’s viewport, not seeing anything beyond the gas giant and its many moons. “Where is it?”

    “Here, let me magnify the visual.” Take-Off pressed in a few controls and the visual scanners zoomed in on a small round spacecraft hovering in front of the warship. It was green and yellow, with a bold red insignia on the front curve of its bow.

    “Uh…” Charger looked over to Skyquake. “That’s not who we’re after, is it?”

    “No,” Skyquake grunted. “But it’s a start. Activate the tractor beam.”

*  *  *

Oh hell, was all Cosmos could think as he was dragged towards the warship against his will, caught within its tractor beam. This is not good.

His mind raced. He thought about sending an alert to the Hub, but could already tell that they had blocked his frequencies. This day was just getting better and better…

What were Decepticons even doing all the way out here? The LCS system was so far from Decepticon space that they couldn’t have possibly known of its existence, especially considering it had only been discovered by Astroscope’s team half a year ago. Did their reach extend far further than the Autobots’ had been led to believe?

Cosmos figured he would get his answers soon enough as he was pulled closer and closer towards the ship. Or maybe not; for all he knew they could just be planning on killing him as soon as they got their hands on him.

Up ahead, a port slid open. Bathed in red light were two Eradicon troopers awaiting him as the tractor beam brought him closer to his certain doom….

Suddenly, there was a flash of lasers and an explosion rocked the warship, knocking out the tractor beam. Freed from its pull, Cosmos quickly zipped away as a light-sized craft emerged from behind one of the moons, charging at the warship with guns ablaze….

*  *  *

“There he is! Fire!”

Skyquake hadn’t even finished his command before the Darklon’s guns were alive with fire. The Autobot ship zigzagged as it evaded the purple lasers, returning fire with red-colored pellets of its own. The warship shook under the assault as the smaller craft shot over the bridge.

“Activate the tractor beam!” Skyquake roared, gripping the sides of his command chair.

“We can’t!” Charger replied. “It’s already been taken out!”

“Then deploy the Eradicons! Fire all weapons! Do something!” Skyquake gritted his teeth. “We are not leaving until that ship is in our grasp. That is final.”

“Yes, sir!” the bridge crew echoed back before quickly getting to work.

*  *  *

Cosmos cried out as he flew at full speed, the Autobot craft and flying Eradicons close on his tail.

The Eradicons he could understand… but the Autobot ship? What did they want with him? They could have easily just let him jump back to the Hub like he was going to; why come after him and just further complicate the situation?

It didn’t add up. Unless these guys weren’t Autobots….

He became even more panicked as the ship began to close in on him. Before he knew it, it was already on top of him and he was soon being dragged in by a magnetic force. Unable to do anything but cry for mercy, Cosmos did exactly that.

“Please don’t hurt me!” he exclaimed before the airlock had even sealed shut. “I didn’t do anything! I was just doing my job! I didn’t want any of this to happen! Please don’t—”

“Primus, calm down,” muttered the red and gray Autobot, releasing his magnetic hold on Cosmos. “We’re only rescuing you.”

“Rescuing me?” Cosmos transformed from his ship form, arms and legs unfurling from his saucer bits while his red head emerged from the central base. “Is chasing after me your idea of rescuing me?”

“You were getting away from us.”

“Yeah, because you were chasing me!”

The bot sighed in exasperation, running a hand down his face. “Whatever. Just sit tight while Prime gets things sorted out. Name’s Windcharger, by the way.”

“Cosmos.” The spacer tilted his head. “Did you say Prime? You’re commanded by a Prime?”

“Yeah.” Windcharger glanced at him. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all, it’s just… I thought all the Primes were accounted for. Sentinel’s at the Hub, Rodimus at Athenia, Override at Velocitron…” Cosmos then blanched in dread. “Oh god, you’re not under Zeta Prime, are you?”

Windcharger snorted. “No, thank spark. Come on, he’s waiting for you up front.”

“Oh, he? Because I was just going to say Nova Prime.” Cosmos rubbed his head as he followed Windcharger to the front of the ship, where three other bots were waiting. “I’ll admit, I’m not that up to speed on my Primes. I’ve only just gotten all my Magnuses down. ‘Course, there’s only been five of them….”

Ignoring him, Windcharger looked up to a stocky gray bot with a wide orange chest, who was piloting the ship. “Is he still out there?” the red Autobot asked.

“Yup,” the pilot grunted. “Always gotta make a show out of it.”

“He did say we had to make this look convincing,” said an orange-plated bot with a single blue optic taking up her face. “If we made it too easy for them, they’d be suspicious.”

“It’s sound thinking,” commented a blue-colored mech. “Still crazy, but sound.”

“Well, Skids, sometimes, crazy works.”

All five bots turned to see a small robot jump down into the ship from a port above. He was red and black with a blue helmet that made his identity unmistakable to Cosmos.

“By the AllSpark,” he murmured. “You’re… you’re—”

“The name’s Optimus Prime,” the bot answered. “And if you have any desire to continue functioning, then you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

II: A MOST PECULIAR WAY

“Sir, we have them.”

Skyquake sighed in relief as he slumped back into his command chair. Outside the Darklon’s viewport, the Autobot ship floated lifelessly in space, damaged and out of fuel.

“Finally,” the Seeker muttered. “Is our tractor beam back in operation?”

“No, sir,” Charger replied. “However, I can have the Eradicons drag it in physically.”

“Make it so.” Skyquake allowed a small grin to break his otherwise stoic features. “They won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

*  *  *

“I’m sorry, Optimus Prime, sir, but, ah… did I hear you correctly? Did you say we’re going to let the Decepticons capture us?”

“Bang, got it in one,” Optimus Prime replied, pointing a finger-gun at a flabbergasted Cosmos. “Ready the hatch, will you, Roller?”

“You got it, big guy,” replied the burly pilot bot.

Cosmos looked between the two bots in confusion. Windcharger and the other two were unfazed by the exchange, instead focusing their attention on prepping their weapons and gadgets. Cosmos then looked back to see Optimus Prime vanish into a nearby hatch.

“…I don’t understand,” Cosmos murmured.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Windcharger said, slapping him on the back. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“Trust you? I hardly know you!”

“We’re both Autobots, aren’t we?” Windcharger pointed at the red symbol on Cosmos’ shoulder before pointing at his own on his chest. “Besides, we’re all led by Optimus Prime, so shouldn’t that be enough?”

“Optimus Prime’s been missing for fifty years! How do I know that’s really him?” Cosmos looked back at where the Prime had vanished. “I mean, he’s a lot smaller than the history records make him out to be….”

“He recently downsized himself to preserve energon,” said the orange monoeyed bot. “Also to better utilize TNM—”

“Glitch!” the blue bot called Skids hissed. “Rule one of TNM: Don’t talk about TNM.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Cosmos frowned. “What’s TNM?”

Skids glared at him. “What did I just say?”

Windcharger waved him off as he turned back to Cosmos. “It’s just a little trick Prime likes to pull off from time to time, especially in scenarios like this one.”

“All right, Eradicons are closing in,” Roller called out. “Hope you guys are ready.”

Skids smirked as he produced a large gun. “More than.”

Cosmos’ visor went wide. “What the—? I thought we were letting ourselves get captured!”

“We are,” Glitch said.

“Then what’s with the guns?!”

“Didn’t say we were gonna make it easy for them.”

As Cosmos blabbered in incomprehension, Windcharger hooked an arm around his. “Stick with me, yeah?”

Cosmos looked to him in utter bafflement just as Roller slammed a fist down on the console. A port opened and all four bots were sucked out into the void of space.

*  *  *

“What the bloody hell are they doing?!”

Take-Off winced as Skyquake tightened his grip over his shoulder. Leaning over the Decepticon’s station, Skyquake scowled as he watched the four Autobots pour out of their ship, shooting at the Eradicons. According to Take-Off’s energy scanner, there were still two more on board.

“They just don’t give up, do they?” he growled. “Target the turbolasers on them. They shouldn’t be hard to pick off.”

“Sir?” Charger looked to him with a quizzical look. “But… doesn’t Gigatron want them alive?”

“He only wants Prime. He didn’t say anything about the others.” Skyquake pointed to the Autobot craft. “Send more Eradicons to bring that in. Prime is sure to still be on—”

“Uh, sir?” Take-Off said weakly. “There’s a… something coming towards us.”

Skyquake blinked as he saw the object in question. It was roughly the size of a heavy-type bot, with gray armor over… was that hair? No, it seemed to cover its entire frame, making it fur. What was Prime doing with an organic creature? And one that could breathe in space, at that?

Before Skyquake could come up with a reasonable explanation, the gorilla had smashed through the viewport and everything and everyone on the bridge was being sucked out into space.

*  *  *

“Oh my god, was that a gorilla?!”

Cosmos heard Glitch cackle over the inter-com as she disabled an Eradicon with her bare claws. “Truck Not Monkey! Never gets old.”

“Of course, monkeys and gorillas are two different things,” Skids supplanted, blowing another ‘Con’s head to pieces with his gun.

Glitch rolled her single optic. “Oh spark, don’t even start with me, wise aft. That’s what Optimus calls it so you shouldn’t even complain.”

“I wasn’t complaining! I was just pointing something out!”

“Ooh, look at me!” Glitch held up a disabled Eradicon, using it as some sort of puppet. “I’m Skids the Theoretician! I’m smart and I know stuff! Let me bore you to death with all of the stuff I know!”

Skids scowled. “Now you’re making me sound like Perceptor.”

“Because you do! You so totally do. I’m amazed you guys aren’t, like, besties or something. Or maybe it’s because you two are so similar that you can’t stand to be in the same room together.”

“That’s not— What are you even trying to say?”

As the pair continued to bicker, Cosmos was pulled away from the action by Windcharger, who had the green space magnetically fused to him back to back. The two of them were brought closer to the Darklon, hovering just above the hangar bay.

“Okay, here’s what I need you to do,” Windcharger murmured to Cosmos. “Once I detach you, transform—”

“You’re going to detach me?!” Cosmos cried. “I thought you wanted me to trust you!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be for long!” Windcharger assured him. “I just need you to transform and fly into the hangar.”

“But there are ‘Cons in there! They’ll kill me!”

“You’ll be fine. Trust me, okay?”

Every part of Cosmos wanted to scream as he was detached from Windcharger. Against his better judgment, he did exactly as he was told, transforming and flying into the hangar….

Where he was immediately disabled by an Eradicon with a stun gun. Losing all control, Cosmos came crashing down….

*  *  *

The green jet roared as it blasted back towards the now-open bridge of the Darklon. Ignoring Take-Off and Charger as they floated past him, Skyquake set his visuals on the armored gorilla rampaging across the ship, waving a black gun around.

That gun… Skyquake would recognize it anywhere. It was the ion rifle, signature weapon of Optimus Prime (after the axe, of course). Had Prime really given his trademark gun to a mindless ape? Or….

No. Skyquake mentally shook his head. That was ridiculous. He was a fool for even thinking it. There was no possible way….

But then the gorilla turned to him and it grinned, an expression which carried to its eyes. To anyone else, that wouldn’t have meant anything. But Skyquake had seen those eyes before; it had been over a century ago, but he remembered the Battle of Technahar well. It had been the first time he had ever faced Optimus Prime in combat.

Those eyes, that grin… they were the exact same. He would recognize them anywhere.

Optimus Prime… was wearing a gorilla suit.

As the jet struggled to process this, the gorilla raised his gun and fired it at Skyquake. The Seeker quickly dodged the blast before advancing at full speed, unloading on the primate. The ape fell just as Skyquake finally reached the bridge, transforming to claim his victory.

Grabbing a hold of the gorilla’s chest, Skyquake tore away the armor plating, revealing an unconscious Optimus Prime within. A savage grin cracked onto Skyquake’s face as he seized the Autobot and lifted him out of the suit.

“Oh, payback feels so good,” he chuckled. “A pity Gigatron wants you alive. This would have been the opportunity of a lifetime, to finally have your head on my wall.”

“Sir?” Charger’s voice crackled through his comm. “Ah, it seems that the Autobots have been dealt with.”

“Dead?” Skyquake asked.

“Seems like it, sir. No sign of them or their ship—and they couldn’t have jumped to hyperspace.”

“Then the Eradicons have done their job… just as we have.” Skyquake grinned at the unresponsive Optimus in his grasp. “Return to the bridge so I can enable the emergency blast shield. It’s time for us to leave.”

III:

Lightyears away on the hellish world of Lucifer, Lord High Governor Straxus of the Decepticon Empire was bored.

This was never a good sign. Usually he was enthralled with the cries of terror that rang across the halls of Darkmount, delighting in the smell of molten slag that came from the smelting pools. Today, he was supremely, imperiously bored.

Perhaps it was the fact that all they had been smelting lately were second-rate Autobot grunts and empties. Nothing substantial like a Major or a Prime or a—dare he dream—Magnus. These nobodies were so easily scared it wasn’t even funny—anymore, at least.

He didn’t understand why this was. When Gigatron was around, it was nonstop fun 24/7. From impromptu chases to mock arena fights, there was simply no end to the entertainment. But now, as he watched the generic, no-name Autobot writhe helplessly on the ground, he just felt… nothing.

Others, on the other hand…

“Oh yeah!” The slate-colored Decepticon jet pumped his fists in the air as he and his magenta partner stood over the hapless Autobot. “We are not to be messed with!”

Straxus did not resist rolling his optics. These Decepticons were as green as one got; they’d never set foot on a real battlefield before let alone faced off with a real Autobot. Gigatron considered these shows as training exercises, but Straxus found them useless. If Gigatron really wanted to train them, then he should throw them into the smelting pools and have them try to climb out. That would yield real results.

But no. Clearly Gigatron saw something in these novices. Straxus simply could not share that view.

“So what do ya say, Wingblazer?” asked the magenta ‘Con as he shoved a spear into the Autobot’s back, getting him to spasm. “Shall we take him to the pool now or save him for later?”

The slate one grinned wickedly. “How about we take him to Stalker? I wanna see how long he can withstand the endoscopic claw.”

“Please,” the Autobot sputtered out. “H-have mercy….”

“Oh! He said the M-word!” Wingblazer looked excitedly to Straxus, who was resting his head on his hand. “You know what that means, boss!”

Steam exuded from Straxus’ vents as he sighed. “What does it mean, Wingblast?”

“You get to say the thing!” said the magenta one. He stepped off of the Autobot and presented them to Straxus. “He’s all yours, boss. You’ve got your axe, right?”

“Uh…” Straxus fumbled around on his throne, retrieving his pickaxe from behind him. “Yeah, I do.”

“Say it again, Autobot,” the magenta ‘Con jeered, pinning the Autobot’s arms behind his back. “Say the M-word.”

The Autobot blinked, confusion mixed in with his terror. “Uh… have mercy?”

Joints creaked as Straxus rose from his throne. He winced as a piece of armor plating fell off, followed by a back panel. Metal groaned as he lifted up his axe, his pistons threatening to lock up. The grins on the Decepticons’ faces never once faltered while the Autobot regarded Straxus with more bemusement than fear.

“Mercy is not dispensed here, fools,” Straxus muttered, raising the axe over his head. “Only death.”

Then, with one swing of his axe, he eviscerated both the Autobot and the Decepticon that held him. Wingblaze stepped back in horror, his green optics wide.

“J—Jetflame…?” he murmured, gazing upon his friend’s remains.

“Aw, geez,” Straxus grunted, realizing what he had done but not at all giving a crap. “I’m sorry about that. Here, let me fix it.”

He then raised his axe again and brought it down upon Wingblaze, ending him as well. With that done, Straxus collapsed back onto his throne, exhausted from the two actions. He then shifted his attention to a pair of Eradicons standing nearby.

“Clean this up, will you?” he barked. “Why do you think I keep you around?”

Without hesitated, the Eradicons moved over to the three corpses. As they got to work, the doors opened to allow a scarlet Decepticon jet into the throne room. He stopped briefly to regard the dead bodies before directing his attention to Straxus.

“My lord,” Snare said. “Skyquake has returned.”

Straxus nodded. “Good.” He then blinked as he rubbed his helm. “Wait, who?”

“Skyquake,” Snare replied. “Commander of the 92nd Predator Corps of the Decepticon Air Force. Conquered the Skomiloch Territories last meta-cycle.”

“Not ringing a bell,” Straxus muttered.

“Tall and green with wings….”

“Nope.”

Snare sighed. “He made fun of your poetry.”

“Oh yeah!” Straxus snapped his fingers. “Now I remember! Is he here, then?”

“Yes, he’s waiting outside.”

“Bring him in then!”

Snare bowed before taking his leave. In his place strode in a tall Decepticon in green and silver, red stripes decorating his wings. Upon seeing Straxus, Skyquake took pause as he lifted an optic ridge.

“You’re… sitting in Gigatron’s chair,” the Predator commander said.

“Eh?” Straxus took a moment to figure out Skyquake’s meaning before laughing. “Oh, yeah. He’s gone for the orbital cycle. Meeting with the other ‘Trons at a summit on New Kaon.”

“I see.” Skyquake’s frown deepened. “And he left you in charge?”

“Yup! Great, isn’t it?”

Skyquake scowled. “But, I’m his right-hand!”

“Yeah, but you weren’t around and someone had to be left in charge.” Straxus leaned back in his seat and folded his hands over his wide chest, smirking smugly. “You snooze, you lose, as they say.”

Skyquake glared at him before sniffing, holding his head up high. “No matter. I have made an accomplishment far more important than some throne.”

Straxus grunted. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“I have captured Optimus Prime.”

Straxus was silent at first as he stared at Skyquake. Then, he threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed for a very long time, smacking his arm rest as he keeled over, clutching his side. Soon his laughs turned into wheezes before finally breaking into a coughing fit, gears grinding together as he struggled to compose himself. Once he had gotten a grip, he straightened back up and looked back at Skyquake.

Then he fell over laughing again.

“Something tells me you’re not taking this seriously,” Skyquake muttered.

“Oh man.” Straxus continued to chortle as he sat back up. “I’ve always wondered why Gigatron kept you around. Now I know: Every ruler needs a court jester.”

“I’m being serious, Straxus!” Skyquake snapped. “I’ve captured the one and only Optimus Prime! You don’t believe me?”

“That’s an understatement. Seriously, man, I’m gonna die here.”

“Fine,” Skyquake growled before raising his comm. “Bring him in.”

The doors opened again and a squad of Eradicons marched in, towing an upraised stasis pod behind them. Inside the pod was a small Autobot in red and black with a blue—and very familiar—helmet. Straxus studied the imprisoned bot for a moment before turning back to a smirking Skyquake.

“Are you high or something?”

Skyquake sputtered in confusion. “What?! No! This is—this is Optimus Prime! The one and only!”

“Uh-huh. And I’m the Prima-Vectorum.” Straxus shook his head as he gestured at the small bot. “Come on, man. That ain’t Optimus Prime. Optimus Prime is big, red and blue. That… that is almost the complete opposite. And I should know; I once fought against him.”

“So did I,” Skyquake retorted. “Believe me, I know this is Prime. It might not look it, but I know it for a fact.”

“If that’s the case, then maybe Stalker should give you a psyche exam or something.” Glancing back at the Eradicons, Straxus motioned with his hand. “Put him with the others. We can still play with him later.”

“No!” Skyquake exclaimed as Not-Optimus was wheeled out of the room. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re making a huge mistake!”

“Fat jokes won’t salvage your reputation, Skyquake,” Straxus grunted. “Now get outta here. Time for the next show to start.”

IV:

Cosmos’ systems took their time in booting back up as he was greeted with the sound of bickering.

“That one was mine.”

“We can’t have you shooting that BFG of yours in here. You’ll set off every alarm on this ship.”

“Skyquake and his crew have already left. All that’s left are Eradicons.”

“He’ll still be alerted! Unless you want to go swimming in the smelting pools.”

“Quiet, you guys,” came Windcharger’s voice. “I’ve found him. Glitch, can you disable this ray shield?”

Cosmos raised his head in time to see the ray shield of his cell dissipate. Standing there were Skids, Glitch, and Windcharger. The latter waved at him.

“Hey, buddy! You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“No,” Cosmos muttered, rubbing his helm as he stood up. “How… how did you guys get here?”

“Windcharger magnetically fused us to the ship’s underside,” Skids said. “Fortunately, they didn’t jump to warp speed. Otherwise….”

“Hey, I knew Lucifer was just a system over!” Windcharger said defensively. “They wouldn’t waste a jump over such a short trip.”

“I’m sorry, Lucifer?” Cosmos asked.

“Its proper designation is LU-5-4,” Skids said. “Well, short-term proper. Its full designation—”

“Oh my god, nobody cares,” Glitch said. “Let’s just regroup with Roller and get moving.”

With haste, the four Autobots began moving through the Darklon, heading for the hangar bay. Cosmos looked around as they dodged patrolling Eradicons, noticing the absence of a sixth of their number.

“Uh, where’s Optimus Prime?”

Glitch broke into a giggle fit. “Probably monkeying around.”

Skids rolled his optics. “Primus spare me….”

Windcharger shook his head before looking over at Cosmos. “He’ll be around. He’s doing his part of the plan, we’re doing ours.”

“And… what is your plan?” Cosmos asked.

“To break into Darkmount and free the prisoners.”

There was a long silence after Windcharger had said this. Cosmos stared at him before blinking once.

“No, but seriously.”

Windcharger frowned. “What? That’s the plan.”

“You’re joking, right?” Cosmos said. “You—you do know that Darkmount is, like, the ultimate Decepticon fortress, right?”

“Actually, that’d be Kolkular,” said Skids. “Granted, Darkmount is up there….”

“Either way, I can’t be the only one who finds the words ‘break into Darkmount’ to be synonymous with ‘certain death.’”

“Hey, it’s only certain if you don’t do things right.” Windcharger gave Cosmos a thumbs up. “Relax. Just follow our lead and everything will be fine.”

Cosmos groaned. “If I had any money, I would so totally bet against that….”

*  *  *

“Uh… where did he say to put him?”

“Who cares?” the Eradicon soldier grunted, tossing the stasis pod containing Optimus Prime to the floor, joining the ranks of a dozen others. “It’s not like anyone keeps this place organized.”

“Point taken,” said the other trooper. “Say, is it break time yet?”

“Dunno. Is TX-552 back from his yet?”

The two Eradicons continued talking as they exited the storage cell, closing and locking the door behind them. Once their footsteps had faded away, a pair of legs kicked open the stasis pod as Optimus Prime climbed out of the capsule, rubbing his battered helm.

“Boy, that Skyquake guy really doesn’t like me,” he muttered.

“An understatement beyond measure,” replied a muffled voice. Reaching behind himself, Optimus detached a small jet from his back, which instantly transformed into a small bot.

“No lie, I totally forgot you existed, Hi-Q,” Optimus said to the Mini-Con. “Why so quiet?”

“I’ve just been analyzing the probability of success for your plan,” Hi-Q replied.

“Ah, cool.”

“Chances of success are, at present, 1,984 to one.”

“That’s an oddly specific number,” Optimus said. “I won’t ask if that’s good or not.”

“Just as well. You wouldn’t like the answer, anyway.”

Standing to full height, Optimus looked around the room they were in. There were dozens of stasis pods but only a few were occupied. This was probably where the ‘Cons got their “playthings”—a reserve of Autobots to torture once they were done with their current target.

It disgusted him… but not as much as High Command’s complete and utter lack of action.

They knew these Autobots were being kept here, yet had Ultra Magnus sent anyone to Darkmount to rescue them? Nope; everyone was too busy defending worlds like Earth or Nebulos to care for their own people. It sickened him to the very laser core….

“Optimus?” Hi-Q was frowning at him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Optimus lied. Shaking his bitter musings, he began to peruse the pods, peering into each capsule. Hi-Q floated after him, continuing to frown as he watched his larger partner.

“Aren’t you going to free them?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Optimus replied. “If I freed just any average bot, I would just be granting them an early death. No, if this plan is gonna work, we need someone big. Someone like Roller or Impactor or—”

He stopped as he looked behind one of the empty capsules. There, buried in the back, was a capsule larger than any other, containing a bot befitting its size.

“Grimlock.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the G-name?” Hi-Q asked. “I thought he died during the war.”

“He went missing after the Battle of Omnitron,” Optimus muttered, pushing aside the pods to reveal the stasis-held Dinobot. “We all thought the same but there were rumors that he had somehow survived.”

He took a step back to study the imprisoned Dinobot. While the face and build were undoubtedly Grimlock, the colors were different. Gone was the gold chest, replaced with an obsidian breastplate with red cracks seeping through. His gray armor was also changed to crimson while his red visor was now tinted green.

It was Grimlock, mos certainly. But… some things had changed. Optimus only wondered if the changes were more than just cosmetic.

“Right then,” he murmured. “Let’s get this open.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hi-Q asked. “I’ve never met him, of course, but I’ve heard Grimlock can be… unfriendly when disturbed from slumber.”

“Relax, he and I go way back,” Optimus said as he worked the pod’s controls. “Sure, he might be a bit grumpy at times, but once you get to know him, he can be a real—”

Without warning, the capsule burst open and Optimus was sent flying across the room, crashing into a pile of empty pods. As Hi-Q looked on in alarm, Grimlock lumbered out of his prison, green visor flashing with rage.

Optimus laughed as he thrust out an arm, giving the Dinobot a thumbs up. “Ha! Still got it, Grim! That was a good one.”

Grimlock simply snared as he crouched down, planting his palms on the ground as his back kibble began to unfurl, assuming the shape of a dinosaur’s head.

“Whoa now, not so fast.” Optimus scrambled to his feet. “We’ve gotta plan first, buddy. Do you even know where you are? You can’t just—”

Green optics glowed to life as the dinosaur head fell over Grimlock’s own. The resulting tyrannosaurus then growled lowly as it set its gaze on Optimus.

“…You’re not listening to me, are you?”

An earsplitting roar was his only response as the Dinobot came charging forward….

*  *  *

“Hey, did you hear that?”

The one Eradicon stopped to look at the other. “Hear what?”

His partner gestured down the corridor. “It sounded like it came from—”

Up ahead, a door went flying off its hinges as a red and black beast came raging out. The Eradicons immediately raised their guns as one held a hand to their comm.

“This is TX-959 to all available units! We have a breakout on Sector G-86! Repeat: Breakout on—”

The trooper was drowned out by the Dinobot’s roar as it charged towards the Eradicons, opening its maw to bring forth their fiery end.

V:

“Please tell me that’s part of the plan.”

Windcharger did not meet Cosmos’ pleading gaze as he listened to the wailing alarms ringing throughout the fortress. “No, I don’t think it is…” he murmured.

The five of them were pressed against the outer wall, hiding in the shadows as Eradicons rushed past them into the fortress. Regardless of whether or not it was part of the plan, it nonetheless provided a useful distraction.

“All right,” Roller grunted, hefting his gun. “Let’s split up. Windcharger, lift Skids and Glitch up to the top. Cosmos, you can fly up there as well.”

“Oh joy,” the green Autobot whined. “Oh joy oh joy oh—”

“Once you’re up there, find the controls to the smelting pools and switch them off. Meanwhile, Windcharger and I will go to the cells and help Prime out.”

Windcharger nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Sounds good?!” Cosmos stared at him incredulously. “Sounds good?! Don’t you guys watch movies? Splitting up the gang is like the worst thing you can possibly do!”

Roller glanced at him. “Well then, Mr. Strategist, do you have any alternative suggestions?”

“Yeah, here’s one: Stick together and don’t do something rash and suicidal.”

Glitch looked down and counted on her claws. “That’s… that’s two suggestions.”

Ignoring her, Windcharger stepped up and rested a hand on Cosmos’ shoulder. The green Autobot was beginning to get sick of these empty gestures.

“Look, I understand this all may seem intimidating, but just—”

“Just what?” Cosmos snapped. “Just trust you? That’s what I’ve been doing all this time and look where it’s gotten me!”

“Not so loud,” Roller hissed, glancing back at the Eradicons marching into the fortress. “Look, we don’t have time to argue this any further. Prime’s counting on us. Windcharger, get Skids and Glitch up there.”

Without question, the red Autobot got to work. As he lifted Skids and Glitch up with his magnet powers, Cosmos let out a weary sigh.

“I take it I’m the only one with a survival drive then.”

Windcharger smiled weakly at him. “Sorry, buddy. Just stick close to Skids and Glitch. They’ve got your back.”

“Do they?” Cosmos cast a doubtful glance upwards. “So far it seems like they’d love nothing more than to tear each other’s sparks out.’

“That’s just their thing,” Roller said. “They’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.”

“We’ll see about that,” Cosmos murmured as he transformed and followed the pair up the fortress wall.

*  *  *

“Man, will someone turn that alarm off?”

Skyquake frowned as he gave Straxus an annoyed glance. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned—”

“Of course I am!” Straxus snapped. “I’m concerned that I’m going to miss my nap!”

Growling in irritation, Skyquake directed his attention to Snare, standing dutifully as he awaited orders. “Alert Falcon. Have him take a squad of Predators to Sector G. Also, tell security to put the entire fortress on lockdown so that no one leaves.”

Snare saluted before running off to carry out his orders. Skyquake then turned back to see Straxus rising from his throne.

“Are you going to join them?” asked a surprised and hopeful Skyquake.

“No,” Straxus mumbled, waddling past the Seeker. “I’m going to my quarters. It’s sound proof there so the alarms won’t bother me.”

Skyquake could only cover his face with his hand as the Lord High Governor trodded away.

*  *  *

“Would you like to hear the current probability of success for the plan?”

“Hi-Q, the plan just took a suicidal nosedive out a 100-story window,” Optimus Prime grunted as he ran after the rampaging Grimlock. “Such as it was.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Hi-Q murmured, attached to Prime’s back once more. “So what’s the new plan, if you have one?”

“Tame Grimlock is as far as I’ve gotten.”

“Ah. I can give you an estimate on the probability of—”

“Please don’t,” Optimus said. “I really don’t need that right now.”

Following the sounds of death and destruction, Optimus turned the corner to find Grimlock entangled with a detachment of Decepticons, consisting of Eradicons and Predator jets. The Dinobot roared as he impaled a trooper with his tail before chomping down on an advancing Predator, hurling the both of them to the side.

Under normal circumstances, Optimus would have considered this move to be awesome. It still was, of course. But if he had any hope in taming the wild Dinobot, it was now or never; the awesomeness would have to wait.

“Grimlock!” he hollered. “Think happy thoughts!”

The Dinobot whirled to him, green eyes blazing with hate.

“Happy thoughts, Grim! Think about… think about pretty girls! And cute animals! And cupcakes! You like cupcakes, don’t you?”

Grimlock answered with a deafening roar as he barreled towards the Autobot commander.

“I’ll… take that as a no.” Metal feet screeched against the steel floor as Optimus turned around and began to run like hell.

*  *  *

In spite of all his apprehensions over the present operation, Cosmos had to admit that watching Skids in action was immensely entertaining.

The three of them had just turned a corner in the direction of the smelting pools only to come face to face with a squad of Eradicons. Without warning, Skids was immediately in motion, taking out one trooper with his gun while using his arm-mounted blasters to take down a second just as a pair of shoulder cannons finished off the third and fourth. He didn’t even need his gun emplacements on his shoulder wheels as the fifth had already ended himself by stupidly tripping over his comrade’s corpse and discharging his blaster in his face.

Weapons still smoking, Skids looked over to Glitch. “Did you…?”

“I’ve been teaching myself to use my powers remotely,” she replied. “The Professor did say they would evolve over time.”

“God, you’re scary,” Skids muttered. “Next you’ll be talking people to death or something.”

“That was so awesome,” Cosmos murmured despite himself. “Are you… are you an ex-Wrecker or something? A Warrior Elite? A Phase Sixer?”

Skids rolled his optics. “I’m a theoretician.”

“Is there a word for someone who somehow manages to act humble and haughty at the same time?” Glitch asked. “’Cos that’s what I’d call you. Or at least a vulgar twist of it.”

“Let’s just go,” Skids grunted, turning back around.

They continued their way down the hallway, managing to avoid any more conflicts with Decepticons. The further they went, the closer Cosmos could tell they were getting to their destination… because it was beginning to get rather warm.

“We’re getting close,” Skids said quietly, gun at the ready. “Be ready for anything.”

Up ahead was an open doorway, where two Eradicons stood before a chamber bathed in orange. Before Skids could say anything, Glitch disabled the both of them with a wave of her hands. As the guards crumpled lifelessly to the floor, Skids shot her a disapproving look.

“What?” Glitch snapped. “Practice makes perfect. Besides, you’re the one to talk, Mr. Walking War Machine.”

Skids simply shook his head as he led the other two the rest of the way to the open entrance. Upon entering, they came onto a wide balcony that oversaw the smelting pool… and what a sight it was.

Oil-curdling screams echoed out from melted corpses attempting in vain to climb to freedom, only to be pushed back down by cackling Decepticons. On hovering platforms, tow-cables dipped Autobots down into the lava only to pull them back out before repeating the process. Their screams were just as if not more harrowing than the others.

Cosmos began to feel himself shake. He had heard tales of the Decepticons’ brutality, of course, but he had always thought they were exaggerated. But now that he was seeing it first hand… he felt as if his spark were about to give out.

A hand fell on his shoulder and at first he thought it was Skids or Glitch trying to comfort him. But then he looked up and saw the Decepticon’s face just as the doors slammed shut behind them.

“Looks enticing, doesn’t it?” the orange jet said, brandishing a three-pronged trident. “Don’t worry; there’s plenty of room.”

---

Monday, December 25, 2023

Transformers Regenerated: Tarnished, Part 7

Took two years, but this side-story is nearing its conclusion.

TALES OF THE DISAPPEARED

TARNISHED, PART SEVEN

Cycle 9809

“They say that I have the gift of weaponized conversation. That I can ‘talk people to death.’”

It was the same script, one he had heard countless times. The wording was always tweaked each time; something that was inevitable when you’ve been playing the same post for nearly three hundred years.

“They say that with each drop of an octave, they can feel their gears grinding to a halt. That their spark starts beating one last pulse per second.”

It was something he had long since become numb too. Every trick was the same. Every death, every scream of agony. None of it was anything he hadn’t already seen countless times before. It had long since gotten old after the first couple of times, let alone the first several hundred.

“That’s what they say. What do you say?”

He hadn’t even bothered to learn what the poor bot’s name was.

“Looks like he shut off fifteen minutes ago,” Helex said as he pulled the deactivated Decepticon out of Kaon’s chair form.

“Ah,” said Tarn. “I was wondering why he had stopped twitching. Shame; I was hoping for a response. Those are always a treat.”

“Want me to grind him up?” asked Tesarus. “My blades could use some sharpening.”

“Please, be my guest.”

A sound escaped from Vos’s voice modulator that he had not intended to. The sound reached the audio receptors of his teammates and they all stopped what they were doing to look at him. Their latest victim dangled lifelessly in the air from the grip of Tesarus’s waldos, hovering over his chest grinder.

“Is something wrong, Vos, old friend?” Tarn inquired.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Vos replied, hoping to save face. “It’s just been a long day. I could use a recharge.”

“Yes, I believe we all could use some much needed rest.” Tarn made a gesture to Tesarus and the larger Decepticon promptly shoved his victim into his already-moving chest grinder. Vos had to refrain from his shutting off his optical sensors as the offline bot was reduced to the tiniest pieces of metal possible. Tarn barely paid the macabre scene any heed as he walked over to Vos, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else troubling you?” Tarn leaned in closer to Vos, enough for the latter to see a hint of his commander’s scarred visage behind his Decepticon emblem-shaped mask. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been a lot more… morose as of late.”

Vos met Tarn’s optical sensors with his own. For the briefest of moments, his hook-like claws twitched, but he did not think Tarn noticed.

“Perhaps I am simply… disheartened by the current state of things,” Vos said, hoping to save face. “Megatron had still not yet been found after a century, High Command is divided between fighting amongst themselves and keeping Starscream from taking full control, so many of our soldiers have become dissidents and earned a place on the List… it kills one’s morale, needless to say.”

Tarn nodded. “I understand your frustration, my friend. But even so, we must remain strong lest we allow the Autobots to gain the upper hand. Even if the official word on the war is that it has gone cold in the absence of both our leaders, that is no excuse for us to stop fighting.”

“Of course not,” Vos replied. “Again, I think a simple recharge is all I need to boost my spirits back up.”

“If you say so,” Tarn said. “Have Nickel check up on you while you’re at it. Once you’re done, we’ll set off for the Eshems Nebula.”

Vos had been about to walk away when Tarn had said this. Pausing in his step, he turned around to look at the D.J.D. leader. “The Eshems Nebula? Why there?”

“It just so happens that our next target has formed an alliance with some of the Ejoornians and caused a stir in the region. High Command has reason to believe that he is attempting to raise an army to seize control of the Decepticon Empire in Megatron’s absence.”

Vos tilted his head, masking a frown. “I was not aware of this.”

“Well, now you are.” Tarn made a motion with his hand for Vos to continue walking. “Go ahead and get some rest. You’re going to need it for the fight that awaits us.”

As Vos walked away from his teammates, he allowed his consternation to display itself on his faceplate. The Eshems Nebula resided between the borders of both Autobot and Quintesson space and the native Ejoornians had notoriously caused trouble for both of them. While such trouble was of no concern to the average Decepticon, it was definitely a concern to Vos, who was no average Decepticon at all. He needed to get a message back to the Autobots and make them aware of the situation before it got out of hand. But unless they encountered some Autobots along the way, it was going to be impossible for him to deliver his message in his regular manner.

He would have to improvise, something that was incredibly risky in his position. But it was a risk he would have to take.

As he stepped onto the Peaceful Tyranny, Nickel rolled up to him on her feet-mounted wheels. A Mini-Con survivor from Prion, the D.J.D.’s medic was the latest addition to their crew, providing them with maintenance to ensure they were up to their highest standards. Vos had found it remarkably generous of Tarn for him to have given Nickel a place in the Decepticon ranks rather than enslave or execute her. Perhaps he saw something of himself in her; based on the intel he had been given of Tarn, Vos knew that the D.J.D.’s leader had once been a small, innocuous bot who had been oppressed by society. In the same way the Decepticons had saved him from the Functionists, perhaps Tarn figured Nickel too would be saved from the wrath of the Black Block Consortia. It was an interesting philosophy to be sure; one that Vos, in spite of his true allegiance, could not help but admire.

As he walked past her, Nickel said, “Hold it right there, Vos. You can’t just walk onto the ship after a mission without getting a maintenance check-up. You know the rules.”

“Later, Nickel,” Vos said wearily. “There’s something I have to take care off.”

The Mini-Con continued to object as Vos made his way to his personal quarters. Once he was inside, he secured the door and scanned the room for listening devices and cameras. As soon as he was sure that he was completely isolated, Agent 113 walked over to his computer station and got to work.

Ejoornus, the Eshems Nebula

“Tarn,” General Clench said wearily from his seat, steam exiting from his grill-like mouthplate as he spoke. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up.”

“My apologies if I kept you waiting,” Tarn said. “We tend to have a rather busy schedule.”

The five members of the D.J.D. stood before the rogue general in the makeshift throne room of his similarly makeshift fortress. Clench’s forces, comprised of Decepticons and Ejoornians alike, surrounded Tarn and his team with weapons drawn and pointed at them. Tarn had approached this meeting as a simple rendezvous between Decepticons, but Clench had clearly seen through this ruse and had come prepared for the inevitable confrontation. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was remarkable nonetheless.

“I’m sure you do,” Clench growled. “I’m surprised you’re even still in operation, what with Megatron gone. I thought High Command would have disbanded you in order to protect their hides.”

“Clearly High Command is not as disloyal to our leader as you are. Or perhaps they see you as a more pressing threat to their command.”

Clench shrugged dismissively. “It would not surprise me either way. In any case, you must realize that the odds are stacked against you. I have at my disposal a warship, over a hundred soldiers, and an Ejoornian fleet. And you have, what, four overpowered cronies?”

“Which is more than enough, I would say,” Tarn said.

“Of course you would. So then, shall we get this confrontation over with? I’m not much in the mood for a conversation, especially one that we both know will go nowhere.”

In the corner of his optic, Tarn noticed Kaon begin to charge up his coils while Tesarus’s chest grinder whirred. He raised a hand to stall them as he kept his attention on Clench.

“Perhaps it doesn’t need to. While normally we would execute you swiftly as we have the likes of Heretech and Turmoil, your position within the Decepticon Empire is respected enough that I would like to give you a chance to make amends.”

Clench narrowed his optics suspiciously. “And what are your conditions?”

“For one, you will end your alliance with the Ejoornians and cease operating in the Eshems Nebula. You might even get bonus points for wiping out their military.” Tarn noticed that his words has caused a stir among the Ejoornians within Clench’s forces. Continuing on, he then said, “Second, you will reaffirm your loyalty to Lord Megatron and pledge your forces to further carrying out the Decepticon cause.”

“Is that all?” Clench asked. “And what if I do not agree to these terms?”

“Frankly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Tarn replied. “But should that be the case, then we will carry out our orders to execute you.”

A large blue and black Decepticon approached Clench’s throne from the side and leaned in to speak into his audio receptor. “Boss, I think we should accept their terms. This whole deal with the Ejoornians ain’t worth it.”

“If I wanted your opinion, Dreadwing, I would ask for it,” Clench snapped, pushing the other Decepticon away from him. He was about to rise from his seat, perhaps to give his forces the order to open fire, when a Decepticon in black and red—whom Tarn recognized as the Stormtrooper leader Rage—rushed up to him.

“Boss! What about that thing we got from Skyjack?”

Clench paused to glance at Rage. “What thing?”

“You know, the bullet. The bullet that he sent us.”

At this, realization dawned in Clench’s optics and he slowly sat back down, eying Tarn and the others with a smug, confident gleam.

“Ah, yes. The bullet. Would you like to see the bullet, Tarn?”

Tarn stared back at him with a confused look. “What interest would I have with a bullet?”

“Well, as it happens, a member of my forces happens to be a mole within the Autobot ranks. He has since been compromised due to the incident at Garrus-9, but before we lost him he sent us a bullet that happened to contain a message. A message from one of your own. Hooligan, if you would please.”

Tarn kept his gaze on Clench as an orange Decepticon Cyberjet stepped forward and raised his arm, pressing a switch to project a video onto the wall. It took Tarn several seconds to force himself to look up at the video and confirm the identity of the bot speaking in it. Somehow, deep in his spark, he already knew the answer.

“—position has been compromised,” Vos was saying in the visual feedback. “The Decepticons’ forces continue to be in disarray and there are talks within High Command of someone assuming full power in Megatron’s absence; Air Commander Starscream has already—”

Tarn looked away from the video to look at the Vos standing next to him. Vos tilted his head to look back at him, his face an expressionless canvas. The others were also staring at him now, varying looks of disbelief and anger being sent his way.

“Bullets,” Tarn said simply.

“Yes,” Vos said simply in return.

“And for how long?”

Vos hesitated for the briefest of seconds. “From the beginning.”

How Tarn was able to find the strength to not raise his arm cannon and blast Vos into oblivion, he did not know. Instead, he simply glared at his teammate with a fury as hot as the pits of Lucifer before turning his attention back to Clench.

“Thank you for making this known to me,” he said coolly. “I say this has earned you a… temporary reprieve. You have seven solar cycles to terminate your alliance with the Ejoornians; failure to do so will result in a much less generous response.”

Clench’s expression indicated that he was not at all intimidated by the threat. “Duly noted.”

With a curt nod, Tarn turned around and signaled to the others to follow him back to the Peaceful Tyranny. He spared a moment to give Vos one last glare before converting to his tank mode and driving off.

*  *  *

My dearest Rewind,

You are never going to see or hear this message, but I feel that the words I have to say need to be said. It is the only way I can meet my end with some amount of dignity and grace.

I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. All I wanted was a world where mechs of all modes and sizes could live in perfect harmony. I fought so hard to achieve that vision and was willing to sacrifice anything I had to do so… even if it meant losing what we had together. I don’t know if what I’ve done for the past few centuries will do anything to achieve that perfect world… but if you are still alive, then I suppose it was all worth it in the end.

I only have so much time; as soon as we are back on the ship, they will surely execute me or put me through some gruesome, horrific procedure. It is in their nature after all. A part of me wishes that I could be a bit more eloquent here, but alas, I will be not allotted such opportunity. Besides, even someone as prolific as myself knows that the simplest words can be the most impactful. After all… there are some words you simply cannot afford to lose. And so, my dear Rewind, I leave you with this final declaration: 

I love you.

Always have. Always will.

I only wish I could have said it to you more. I think we both know that I didn’t say it nearly enough.

Tarn is facing me now. His optics are filled with a rage I have never seen before. An ungodly amount of hatred rages in his spark.

My time has come.

I will never forget you.

Farewell.

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Transformers Regenerated: Spacewarp's Log - Entry 4

THE TRANSWARP BLASTER

  The latest addition to my little “crew” (okay, our crew; Krok still calls the shots and his loser friends would rather listen to him than to me) is the Transwarp Blaster. Now, it might sound strange to call a weapon a crewmember, but see, the Transwarp Blaster isn’t just a weapon but a living being… three of them to be precise.

The Interstellar Marauders, as they call themselves, are led by Boom Tube. You might find that hard to believe given her ditzy behavior, but don’t let that fool you; beneath her eccentric facade is actually a very focused and dedicated tactician. Jump Drive supports that by being very methodical, which is good since he’s in charge of keeping track of their inventory. And then there’s Starburst, who is good enough at keeping his teammates tuned up… it’s just that he doesn’t do the same for himself and thus smells really, really bad. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a skilled medic, the other two probably would’ve ditched him long ago.

I first learned about them through Foldspace. He used to hang out with them back on Micron; they were pretty much the only ones who would tolerate his presence and the closest he had to actual friends. When the Consortia attacked, the Marauders were already several steps ahead of everyone else and had already constructed a ship of their own. They left Micron along with Foldspace; unfortunately they didn’t get very far as their ship was quickly shot down and pulled in by a Consortia vessel. The four of them were taken captive and later sold off to separate clients; Foldspace went to a Quintesson named Maxa (long story, I’ll save that for next time) while the Marauders went to some rich guy from the Vestial Imperium.

(Foldspace, what was his name again? …Right. How do you spell that again?)

Yeah, some guy called “Mobedyar Daggerthrust the Lesser of Vestum Minor.” Anyway, he didn’t have them for long ‘cos he was dumb enough to gamble ‘em away in a high stakes game of Triad on Monacus, losing them to Swindle of all ‘bots. Yes, that Swindle. See, this was during the “False Calm” between the Autobots and Decepticons after Prime and Megs disappeared following the Cataclysm. Swindle had taken temporary leave from the Combaticons and joined a crew with his brother Hardtop. Swindle probably thought he was the one calling the shots, but that didn’t last long either as shortly after he got kicked out by the crew’s ambitious science officer Brushguard.

See, Brushguard had a particular interest with the Interstellar Marauders and their combined form. During the war, he had been a part of the Sigma Project, an attempt by the Decepticons to weaponize transwarp technology. Even after the project was abandoned, Brushguard continued to develop formulas and whatnot, and saw the Interstellar Marauders as the perfect opportunity to put his ideas to the test. After kicking Swindle out, he got to work and spent the next several decades experimenting on the three Mini-Cons. 

Progress was slow as most of the good stuff was in the hands of either the Autobots or the Decepticon high brass (or, hell, even the Secret Order), but he eventually got what he wanted: the Transwarp Blaster. One blast from this beauty could send anyone anywhere in the galaxy. And I do mean “anywhere”; you couldn’t use it in lieu of a space bridge or something, ‘cos the odds of you ending up on Velocitron were just as equal as ending up in a black hole on the edge of the Malus Expanse.

In the hands of anyone else, the Transwarp Blaster would have made that ‘bot an unstoppable conqueror feared by all. But Brushguard ain’t that kind of ‘bot. He didn’t make the Transwarp Blaster to conquer; he just made it to show off to everyone that he was just as capable of making technological advancements as someone like Flatline or Scalpel. Unfortunately, by the time he was finished with his work, the war had ended and no one had a need for a Transwarp Blaster. And so Brushguard was once again ignored by everyone.

Having spent all of his funds on making the T.B., Brushguard was left with not choice but to go crawling back to Swindle, who had since set up operations on Hedonia with a new crew. As it so happens, I was there with Krok’s crew for some reprieve after the Prime Wars business before we got to work with finding Mini-Cons. As soon as he laid optics on the Transwarp Blaster, Swindle immediately saw Shanix signs and held a huge auction for it. By a sheer twist of fate, Mobedyar Daggerthrust the Lesser was also there and eagerly put a bid on it (I’m not sure if he realized the weapon was made up of the three Mini-Cons he used to own centuries ago. He doesn’t strike me as the sharpest tool in the shed; otherwise, he wouldn’t be “the Lesser,” am I right?). He was quickly matched by a lot of big players, from Senator Feh’d to Initial T.

I wasn’t gonna partake, until Foldspace pointed out to me that the Transwarp Blaster looked a lot like his old Mini-Con pals. A quick scan proved he was right and I immediately sprung into action. I had to convince Krok and his buddies to help me pitch in. Between all seven of us, we were barely able to match Initial T’s bid, and it was only when I offered a Maelstrom Exchequer I had picked up on Sargasso that Swindle took our offer.

Everything seemed to be in the bag until Brushguard’s crewmates barged in. Apparently, they had just realized what the Transwarp Blaster was capable of (and what it was worth) and that they could make a big name for themselves with it in their hands. I couldn’t blame them, ‘cos a lot of Brushguard’s crew were just a buncha nobodies. There’s Hardtop, of course, Swindle’s forgotten brother; Buzz Saw, who I guess was desperate enough to reformat into a Predacon body to stand out from everyone else; some Battlecharger who looks like Runabout but isn’t Runabout ‘cos he has blue instead of red (and, y’know, Runabout’s dead); and a nobody Seeker called Hotlink.

Before anyone knew it, weapons were being drawn and everyone was pointin’ them at everyone. I think Spinister was even pointing his gun to his own head without even realizin’ it (and Misfire says he’s a hidden savant….). Swindle, of course, tried to calm everyone down but nobody was listenin’ to him. It wasn’t until Trickdiamond, some Camien lass working with Swindle, called for a free round of drinks. That got the organics in the room distracted, but we mechs were still pointing guns at each other. I’ll admit, I was pretty worried that one of the Scavengers was gonna take the first shot; Spinister would’ve probably just blasted his own face off, but Misfire… like I said, he earned his name for a reason. He might not hit his intended target, but he will hit something… and I don’t wanna be that something.

Thankfully, Nickel’s a quick thinker. She rolled over to Swindle, snatched the Transwarp Blaster from his hands, and fired it at Hardtop. There was a bright flash of light—bright enough that I needed to shield my optics—and when it was gone, so was Hardtop. She then pointed it at the other ‘Cons and put on the bravest face I had ever seen a Mini-Con put on.

“All right,” she said, “who’s next?”

Boy, I’d never seen someone transform and roll out so fast in my entire life. I guess Tarn rubbed off on her and passed on his intimidation tactics to the little gal. Brushguard and the rest of his wannabe gang emptied out and Swindle hastily closed our deal. I couldn’t tell if he was shaken up by his brother’s disappearance or just shaken up in general, but to be honest, I didn’t really care. We just freed three Mini-Cons; sure, there’s still thousands more out there, but three’s still better than nothin’.

Boom Tube and her boys were given the choice of striking out on their own again, but after reuniting with Foldspace, they’ve decided to stick around with us, if only for some protection from the Consortia in case we run into them. And hey, maybe people will think twice about crossing us if they know we can send them halfway across the galaxy simply by pulling a trigger.

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination II, Chapter One

 ONE: WELCOME BACK TO THE WORLD OF MOVING PARTS

Now (2017) - Earth

“I don’t think he’s waking up.”

“Shut up, Sludge. Nobody asked you.”

The largest of the four Dinobots gathered around the single CR chamber shrunk under Snarl’s harsh words. Swoop gave him a friendly pat on the back while Slag simply sat in silence, staring straight at the CR chamber in front of them. The smallest of the Dinobots, Slash, was pacing around in her Velociraptor form, sniffing the chamber as if she would find something that would solve all of their worries.

It had been six months since their leader had been left severely injured by the Decepticon known as Scorponok, forcing him to be placed in a CR chamber in order to repair his injuries. While his repairs had been finished for quite some time now, Ratchet had said that something was keeping Grimlock in stasis lock and had yet to figure out what. No progress had been made since then, and to this day Grimlock remained locked within his chamber.

And Slag had been there for him each and every one of those days.

His refusal to leave Grimlock’s side had surprised the other Dinobots and Autobots. Out of all of them, Sludge or Swoop or even Slash would have been the most likely to stick around and wait for their leader to emerge from stasis (Snarl, of course, was never going to do such a thing). But Slag had insisted on being the one to wait for him while the others went on missions for the two Primes, with Swoop being given temporary command of the unit (as a former member of the Elite Flying Corps, he had the most military experience out of all of them, besides Slag). While the other four headed out, Slag spent his days sitting in front of the CR chamber or resting in his alternate mode, never once stepping out of the room.

The others had given up on asking him why he did this. Which was just as well, since he was never going to answer them no matter how many times they asked.

Swoop cleared his vocal processor to break through the awkward silence that had become customary of their gathering. “Elita’s sending us on another mission.”

“Don’t care,” Slag grunted.

“Well, maybe you should, ‘cos she wants all of us to go. Says it’s pretty important.”

“Don’t care.”

Snarl rolled his optics as he shrugged his shoulders in a theatric manner. “That’s that, then. Told you it’d be a waste of time.”

“I just don’t get why you care so much,” Sludge said to Slag. “I thought you hate Grimlock.”

Slag opened his mouth, ready to fire off a ready retort, when Slash suddenly jumped away from the CR chamber. “I didn’t do anything!” she bleated.

Without warning, the CR chamber hissed as steam exhumed out from the bottom of the pod and its doors slid open. From within the chamber, a large figure in gray and gold armor plating took a heavy step out, then another. He ran a hand over his black helm as life slowly came back into his red visor.

After several months, Grimlock was back online.

“By the AllSpark!” Swoop exclaimed. 

“See?” Sludge said. “Told you power of friendship would work! Eventually.”

Slash transformed to her robot mode and jumped around excitedly. “Big Bot back in town! Big Bot back in town!”

“Huh,” was all Snarl could muster.

Slag was silent as he rose from where he had been sitting for the past several hours. He took a step towards Grimlock, who regarded him with a look of hazy recollection, still recomposing his thoughts after having spent so long in stasis lock. Then, Slag reeled his arm back and threw his fist into Grimlock’s face, his fist hitting the Dinobot leader’s faceplate with a loud crack.

The other four Dinobots could only stare in silent shock as Slag stormed away, leaving Grimlock to massage his dented faceplate. Slash looked up to her larger counterparts, hoping they would impart some wisdom as to why Slag had displayed such behavior, but they had none to offer her; they were just as lost and confused as she was.

Once again being forced to break the silence, Swoop waved awkwardly at Grimlock. “Um, hey, boss. Welcome back to the world of moving parts.”

*  *  *

“Glad to see you back up and running, Grim’… I’m sorry that your teammate didn’t give you a warmer welcome.”

Grimlock simply grunted noncommittally as Wheeljack worked on patching up the dent Slag had left in his faceplate. Besides Ratchet, Wheeljack was the only Autobot that Grimlock really trusted with fixing him or any of the other Dinobots, primarily due to the fact that Wheeljack had once served in his Lightning Strike Coalition during the war. Before then, the Dinobots had a medic in the form of Skar… but, of course, those days were long gone.

Standing nearby was Elita-One, watching Grimlock with a careful eye. He had been unable to explain to her why he had spent so long in stasis lock, primarily because he did not know the answer himself. He remembered Scorponok somehow shutting him down via some remote connection, but even that he could not explain. He could not think of any time when Scorponok would have had the opportunity to modify him in some way that would have allowed him to do what he had just done, which meant that Scorponok must have found some other means. But what those were, or what implications it may have, he could not even begin to speculate on.

After waiting for Wheeljack to finish most of his repairs (which already cosmetic anyway), Elita finally spoke whatever was on her mind. “I take it the others mentioned that I’m sending them on a mission?”

“Swoop said something about it,” Grimlock grunted.

“Then I suppose I should give you the details. Not too long ago, we detected a strange anomaly near Earth’s Antarctic region. Primal and his team of Maximals volunteered to investigate it… and they never returned. We sent another team of Maximals, with the same results. Before we knew it, all of the Maximals had gone missing.”

“Why only Maximals?”

“Because the anomaly we had detected was an island that wouldn’t have been suitable for any of our vehicle modes,” Elita replied. “Jetfire did fly out to the island’s position, but his scanners failed to pick up anything. The island still shows up on Metroplex’s scanners, but not on our personal ones.”

“Strange.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Elita said under her breath. “Our next best hope is you and the Dinobots. Sky Lynx has also offered to accompany you and serve as transportation. I take it you all have experience with the Maximals and their endeavors.”

“Somewhat,” Grimlock replied. To his recollection, shortly after the Cataclysm, he and the Dinobots had been sent to Eukaris by the Fallen out of the belief that (according to Nightbeat’s speculation, at least) Grimlock was some sort of descendant of Onyx Prime, the supposed progenitor of all Transformers with beast alternate modes. Regardless of whether there was any truth to this—Grimlock never cared enough to do his own investigation—the Dinobots had allied themselves with the Maximal resistance for a short time until the Predacons’ space bridge had sent them to Earth—with the exception of Grimlock, who had been plucked by the Fallen to be used in his plot to bring about “the Unbinding” (whatever that had entailed).

It was here on Earth that Grimlock and his fellow Dinobots would be found by Optimus Prime’s Autobots over a century later, and after returning to Eukaris to continue their alliance with Maximals, they would once again find themselves on Earth when Onyx Prime brought all beastformers under his control.

It was enough to make Grimlock wonder if there was some sort of connection between Earth and Eukaris, outside of the fact that Shockwave had targeted both worlds as part of his Regenesis program. It had not escaped his notice that some of Earth’s wildlife resembled both those of Eukaris and Cybertron itself, though he had simply chalked it up to coincidence. After all, humans pretty much looked like flesh-colored Nebulans or miniature Femaxians; resemblance between alien worlds was not unheard of, especially to someone such as Grimlock who had been stationed at several planets over the course of the Great War.

Even so, the fact that the Maximals had once again started vanishing en masse to some location on Earth, not unlike what had happened when Onyx Prime had taken control of them all… it was enough to make Grimlock wonder what it could all mean, and he was typically not the type to wonder about such things.

As Wheeljack stepped away from him, his repairs to Grimlock’s faceplate finished, the Dinobot leader rose to his full height and stepped towards Elita, who regarded him with an even gaze.

“So,” Grimlock said, “when do we leave?”

*  *  *

“With all due respect, Prime, a lot of this is sounding pretty far fetched.”

Optimus Prime stayed silent as he patiently waited for Marissa Faireborn to finish going over the report detailing the recent clash with Tarantulas and a reborn Cobra. The red-haired woman, from what he understood, was the daughter of a veteran member of G.I. Joe, known by the codename of Flint. As such, Cobra’s resurgence concerned her not only as director of the Earth Defense Command, but also as someone who grew up as the child of someone who had fought against Cobra and seen to their downfall.

That in and of itself was already concerning enough, of course, but when you threw in everything about Tarantulas and his time machine, in addition to Gears’ extra-dimensional experiences… Optimus could understand why Faireborn would be hesitant to believe any of it. While she had been part of Sector Seven’s NEST taskforce, she had had few interactions with the Autobots until now, having been named director of the EDC by the newly elected President of the United States. Thus, it stood to reason that she would be less forthcoming to believing the types of adventures the Autobots had as opposed to someone like Agent Fowler, as much of a skeptic he always was.

Once she had finished reading the report, Faireborn lowered the tablet and looked up at Optimus, regarding him with a scrutinizing gaze. “Normally I would dismiss a report like this as nothing more but sheer delusion and have whoever gave it to me sent for a psyche evaluation.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “But from what Agent Fowler has told me, this kind of stuff is more or less normal for you ‘bots.”

“Believe me, Director, I would likely feel the same if I hadn’t been there for it,” Optimus replied. “If it is any assurance, we do have Tarantulas and his ‘Timemaze’ in custody, so you are free to see them for yourselves to verify the report.”

“I plan to do so.” Raising the tablet again, Faireborn changed the screen to replace Optimus’ report with a request he had sent in prior. “In the meantime, I have authorized your mission to the mysterious island you guys detected in the Antarctic region. Will you be partaking in that operation yourself?”

“No. I am passing command of that mission to Grimlock, an old… friend of mine, I suppose you would call him.” Optimus wasn’t sure if ‘friend’ was the right word to use for the caustic relationship he had with the Dinobot leader, but he did not feel like now was the time to get into the semantics of it. “He has recently come out of stasis lock after being taken out of commission six months ago.”

“And you have cleared him medically for this mission?”

“My chief medical officer has given him the greenlight, and I trust his judgment more than anything.”

“I will hold you to that, then.” Faireborn looked back up at Optimus and tilted her head, a somewhat quizzical look on her face. “If you won’t be going on this mission, then what do you plan on doing in the meantime?”

“I was actually hoping to catch up with Professor Sumdac,” Optimus replied. “As you know, we rescued him from Cobra’s clutches, and his offspring Sari informed us of what he had told her when she was also in their captivity. However, I feel that there is more to his story that he isn’t telling us.”

“What makes you say that?” Faireborn asked.

“My chief engineer Wheeljack has conducted much research on the Sumdacs in trying to solve Sari’s origins and has discovered that her—I believe you humans use the term ‘grandfather’—was once associated in some way with our old foe Scorponok.”

Faireborn raised an eyebrow at this. “Is that right? I believe we have files on the Sumdac family, if you would like to peruse them.”

“That would be helpful,” Optimus said. “I only hope that Professor Sumdac will be just as forthcoming with answers to the questions I have for him….”

*  *  *

Prowl stood outside of Tarantulas’s cell, staring at the Predacon arachnid with his arms crossed. Tarantulas stared back at him, his arms—all nine of them if one counted the limbs contributed by his alternate mode—held down with stasis cuffs, chains, and various other restraining devices. Both of their faces were impassive, betraying nothing of their true thoughts or emotions; a silent battle of the wits.

After several long, pressing minutes of silence, Tarantulas was the first to speak. “Let me guess: You are here to either gloat over your victory, or to ask for my help because you can’t accomplish anything without my genius.”

Prowl did not indulge his taunt without any sort of response, instead speaking as if Tarantulas had never spoken. “The Timemaze. Sari told me that you made it to upset the Omega Guardians.”

“I did.” Tarantulas cocked his head, the tiny mandibles on his faceplate clicking together. “And what of it?”

“What do you know of the Omega Guardians? They’ve been a mystery to us and most of galactic society for ages. What did you learn about them that prompted the creation of some time machine?”

Tarantulas chuckled. “Ah, so I was right on that second part, wasn’t I? You need me, Prowl. You need me for my knowledge. That’s why I’m still alive, isn’t it? Because otherwise—”

“Just answer the question,” Prowl said through gritted teeth.

The Predacon laughed again, even louder this time. “Naturally, I first learned of the Omega Guardians from Shockwave’s studies, which I was made privy to during our brief alliance. He claimed to have been in touch with them, but what he and many others failed to realize was that the stone golems that inhabited Ki-Aleta were not the Omega Guardians themselves but rather their effigies; their liaisons to the corporeal world. The real Omega Guardians have long since ascended to the Higher Realms, a reality that transcends space and time.”

“And you know this how?”

“Countless hours upon hours of studying and translating native texts from the natives of Ki-Aleta. You would be surprised by how much free time I was allotted on Outpost One when I was with the Secret Order….”

Prowl frowned, unsure of how sincere Tarantulas was actually being. “And how did this discovery lead you to creating the Timemaze?”

“It didn’t,” Tarantulas said. “It was when I was studying Centurion—that doppelganger of your little yellow friend—that I reached the hypothesis that the Omega Guardians had not only transcended our reality but were in fact watching over it. After all, what must they be the guardians of? And the word ‘omega’ suggests a certain degree of finality. When you remove everything in the universe, what else is there to guard but the universe itself? And given our penchant for meddling with time and space—something which Shockwave took to the extreme by sending Centurion and his kin thousands of years into the past and modeling them after individuals who had yet to even come into existence… it only made sense that they would be more than a little irk.”

“And you sought to irk them further with the Timemaze,” Prowl murmured.

“Of course. How else could I test my hypothesis unless I followed in Shockwave’s footsteps and continue meddling with time and space. Sooner or later, their patience is going to reach its limit and we will all suffer their wrath!”

Prowl glared at him. “And this is something that you eagerly anticipate?”

Tarantulas chuckled, but it was without mirth this time. He lowered his head and narrowed his visor, glowering at Prowl through a thin slit. “Prowl, old friend… nothing would please me more than to prove to you and everyone else that I was right about something… even if it means destroying reality itself to do so.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Prowl shook his head as he stepped away from Tarantulas’ cell, turning his back to the Predacon. “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, or if you even know what you’re talking about… but I will get to the bottom of it. Mark my words.”

“Of course, Prowl,” Tarantulas said from behind him. “I would expect nothing less from you.”