Star Wars: First Order of Business, Part 4

4: THE CHILDREN OF VADER

 New Alderaan, 8005 C.R.C.

Leia stared down at the face of her dead brother. Or rather, a face that resembled that of her brother; while the similarities were uncanny, there were enough differences that made her dismiss the notion that she was looking at some sort of clone or the like. Even so, the resemblance had to be deliberate and Leia couldn’t help but feel that this whole event had been engineered so that she could look upon this very face. Whoever these Vader impersonators were, they were trying to send out a message; not just to New Alderaan or the New Republic, but to her as well.

Hovering on the other side of the operating table on which the young man lay was a GH-7 medical analysis droid that had been assigned to study the man’s body. Leia recognized the droid’s outdated model from the recording R2-D2 had shown her and Luke of their biological mother. Was it the will of the Force that such a droid was now speaking to her about the death of a man that looked like her brother, or was it merely a coincidence? She wasn’t even sure at this point, not after everything that had transpired within the last twenty-four hours.

“The DNA results have come back and they are a match for a young human male identified as Mill Arkham from New Alderaan, age twenty-three,” the droid was saying. “Despite the physical resemblance to your sibling, we found no matches with your DNA. Instead, we believe his facial structure was altered to match that of your sibling’s.”

“Are you saying he went through a facial transformation program?” Leia asked.

“It is a possibility,” the droid replied. “While such programs were outlawed by the Galactic Empire, underground organizations have been known to use them in order to evade law enforcement.”

Leia looked back down at the young man. This only added to her suspicion that this had been done to get to her. Of course, this left the question of who would be behind such a thing. Evidently, this was an operation that went deeper than a mere act of terrorism.

“Thank you,” she said to the droid. It acknowledged her with a mere nod of its head as it pulled the medical drape back over the body of Mill Arkham before carrying the medical table away. Stepping out of the medlab, Leia found the rest of her family, as well as Lando, Chewbacca, and the droids, waiting for her outside. Seeing their expectant looks, she already knew what question was at the forefront of their mind and she was quick to answer him.

“It’s not him,” she said softly. “Or a clone. It was just a man who had his face altered to look like him.”

“Still, that’s not something to take likely,” Han said. “People don’t just make themselves look like Luke Skywalker and dress up as Darth Vader while shouting ‘death to the New Republic’ for no reason. There has to be more to it than that.”

“Agreed,” Leia said. “I will contact Intelligence and have them look into this further. I will also speak with President Valmor and see if she can have her people take part in the investigation as well. One of these terrorists was a New Alderaanian citizen, and another was able to pose as one of the president’s guards, which likely means they’ve already established some sort of base of operations here on New Alderaan.”

“Did the guard look like Luke at all?” Han asked.

Leia shook her head. “No, he did not.”

“Then I guess it’s not a widespread fashion sense for them. Meaning that they could be anyone, anywhere.”

Leia grimaced as she considered this. She could only hope that this plot, whatever it was, did not run too deep… and that Valmor herself was not involved. The last thing she wanted was to see the last piece she had of Alderaan to be tainted by the stain of the Empire… if, of course, it was the Empire that was behind this. Since the Imperial Sith War, the Empire had been reduced to a sovereign state that ruled over a small piece of territory at the edge of the Outer Rim. In the two years that had passed since then, Leia’s relationship with the Imperial head of state Gilad Pellaeon had been fairly amicable, and she did not have the impression that he desired to expand the Empire’s reach any further than it already had. But she also knew that Pellaeon was not a man to be underestimated, having once served as right-hand man to Grand Admiral Thrawn. If there was anything Pellaeon could have picked up from Thrawn, it was cunning and deceit, tools that could be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands.

But even so, whatever these terrorists were doing did not feel like the work of Pellaeon; they were far too overt and theatrical for a close confidant of Thrawn’s to have pulled off. If anything, it felt more like the work of an Imperial splinter faction, the likes of which had not been seen since shortly before the rise of Darth Vorath’s Sith Empire. As far as she knew, most of the Imperial warlords were accounted for; any that had not been arrested or eliminated by the New Republic had been absorbed into the Sith Empire. Still, there was the possibility that some may have decided to strike out on their own after Vorath’s fall, not wanting to be part of Pellaeon’s government. But NRI had been pretty thorough with keeping tabs on such individuals; she didn’t think any could have slipped past their attention. Then again, Imperials were known for being crafty, and Leia knew well enough not to underestimate them.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, a guard stepped into the waiting room with a grim expression on his face. Standing to attention, he saluted Leia before speaking. “Your Highness, there is an urgent matter for you to attend to.”

Leia frowned. “What is it?”

“It’s the HoloNet. A message is being broadcast across all channels.”

Leia looked over to Han, who quickly moved to turn on one of the viewscreens in the waiting room. Displayed on the screen was a masked figure shrouded in darkness, red indiscernible Aurebesh text scrolling across the image. The mask the figure wore resembled that of Darth Vader’s but had a more unique design compared to those worn by the attackers. Their voice was also heavily modulated through the mask, making their gender indeterminable.

“What you have witnessed today is but the first of many messages that we intend on sending out until the so-called Princess of Alderaan responds to our demands,” the masked individual was saying. “The New Republic is built on nothing but lies and Leia Organa has made it clear that she intends on keeping her secrets until someone forces her hand.”

Leia felt Han gently lay a hand on her shoulder but she kept her attention focused solely on the screen.

“You are being deceived. Alderaan’s supposed heir is not even of Alderaanian blood, and she has kept her true heritage secret because she knows the impact it will have on not only her career, but the very existence of the New Republic itself. But such an impact will be inconsequential compared to what we will do until she reveals the truth. Until she admits to the galaxy who she really is. Until then, you will be hearing from us again. The Children of Vader will not stay silent.

“Death to the New Republic. Long live the Empire.”

With these closing words, the image of the masked figure vanished as the screen returned to its original broadcast. A heavy silence fell over the room, with no one daring to speak a single word. Taking in a heavy breath, Leia turned to the guard, who remained there with a stoic expression, as if he was unfazed by what he had just heard.

They could be anyone, anywhere.

“Tell President Valmor that I will be holding an emergency session in her office. I do believe this situation warrants one at this point.”

*  *  *

“This is clearly the work of the Empire. It must be.” Senator Cal Omas of Alderaan spread his hands out as he looked to the other gathered senators in the office of President Valmor. “Am I alone in thinking this?”

“It is dangerous to make such assumptions, Senator Omas,” said Senator Ransolm Casterfo of Riosa. “We must make sure we have all of the facts first before we deliver any accusations.”

Omas grunted. “Naturally you would be quick to defend them,” he muttered. “You have always been uncomfortably sympathetic towards Imperial ideals.”

“My stances are irrelevant to the matter at hand.”

“Agreed,” Leia interjected, bringing the room’s attention back to her. “And for what is worth, I agree with Senator Casterfo on the fact that we should withhold any allegations until we have the facts. I have already tasked New Republic Intelligence with looking into this matter.”

“Changing the course of the subject then,” said Senator Carise Sindian, her dark brown eyes fixated on Leia, “how do you plan on addressing their message?”

Leia returned her gaze evenly. “Pardon?”

“These ‘Children of Vader’ have leveled rather serious allegations against you. Claiming that you are not of Alderaanian blood… why, of all the nerve! Surely you intend on dispelling their accusations?”

Leia sucked in her breath, unsure as to how to respond. She was saved from replying when Gatalenta’s representative Tai-Lin Garr spoke up. “These terrorists are merely trying to aggravate the public with their words. Humoring them will do us no favors.”

“Indeed,” said Omas. “However, we should prepare for when and where these Children of Vader will strike next. It is prudent that we gather as much intelligence as we can so that we are ready for when the next attack comes.”

Leia cleared her throat. “Agreed. In the meantime, we should increase security wherever we can. Once it is safe for us to leave New Alderaan, we should get to work on relocating our capitol to a more secure location until this has been resolved.”

“We should be as discreet as possible when it comes to discussing such relocation,” said Senator Garr. “If these terrorists could indeed be anywhere, then we must exercise caution with what we speak about, lest they find out about our next moves.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?” asked Casterfo.

“Wait until it is safe for us to leave New Alderaan. Then we can decide on a rendezvous point and discuss things further from there.”

Omas nodded. “A sound decision to me.”

“I concur,” opined Sindian.

Casterfo voiced his own approval before looking to Leia, who returned his look with a nod.

“It is decided,” she said. “Until we meet again, let us try our best to stay safe.”

“Agreed,” Casterfo said. “You most of all, Your Highness.”

Leia met his blue eyes and nodded curtly. “Of course.”

*  *  *

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to find, Jacen.”

“Anything could be a clue,” Jacen said as he scrolled through a holographic display of public records. “You just need to know where to look.”

Jaina rolled her eyes, exasperated with her twin’s antics. After learning the name of the attacker they had apprehended—Mill Arkham—Jacen had started an investigation of his own straight away, convinced that any details he could find on Arkham would lead them to who and what these “Children of Vader” were. Jaina was not as convinced, but had nonetheless followed him and Anakin to New Aldera’s resource center to search through their public records. At the very least, she shared his desire to get to the bottom of this whole fiasco; she simply didn’t think Jacen’s method was the best way of going about it.

As she leaned against the back of Jacen’s chair, watching him scroll endlessly through the information, she glanced over at Anakin and noticed that his attention appeared to have wandered elsewhere. This wasn’t exactly unusual; her little brother had always had a habit of daydreaming and letting his mind wander. Still, given everything that had happened over the past couple of days, she was curious enough to find out what was keeping him distracted.

“What’s on your mind, Ani?”

Anakin seemed to snap back to reality and glanced at her before shaking his head. “It’s nothing,” he said unconvincingly.

“Can’t get Lola and her Huttslayers off your mind, huh?” Jacen remarked.

“Eugh, shut up, Jace.”

Jaina gave Jacen a playful jab before looking back at Anakin. “There is something on your mind, though. I don’t need to have the Force to tell you that. Are you sure it’s nothing?”

Anakin bit down on his lip, as if contemplating whether or not to say something, before shaking his head. “I’m sure.”

Jaina frowned, still not convinced, but before she could press the matter further, Jacen let out a sharp “A-ha!” that made her jump a little.

“Found him,” he said, pointing to a name on the massive list. “Mill Arkham. Born in 7982 C.R.C.”

“Great,” Jaina muttered. “I’m sure this is going to be a huge lead.”

Jacen brought up Arkham’s profile and began to read through it, his brown eyes scanning the holographic blue text. After a moment, he said, “It says here that his parents died four years ago during his first year at the University of New Alderaan. He was later expelled along with several other students for participating in what was classified as ‘cult-like activities.’”

“So he was just a kid who lost his parents and fell in with a bad crowd,” Jaina said. “Obviously this made him an ideal recruit for a terrorist group. But this doesn’t tell us anything about them.”

“Wait, there’s an article here that goes into more detail. Apparently these students began their activities after one of their professors took them on an unauthorized field trip to Vjun. The professor resigned shortly after they had returned from the trip and has not been seen since.”

Anakin visibly tensed up at the mention of Vjun. Jaina knew that when he was younger, during his early days as a Jedi apprentice, he had accompanied Masters Tionne and Ikrit on a trip to Vjun to recover the lightsaber of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The planet just so happened to also be the site of Bast Castle, the private fortress of Darth Vader himself.

“Okay,” she murmured. “That might be something.”

“Might be? It clearly is something.” Jacen shut off the computer and rose from his seat. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get to Vjun.”

Jaina grabbed him by the shoulder before he could walk off. “Hold up. You don’t really think Mom and Dad are going to let us take the Falcon to go to some dark side planet, do you?”

Jacen grinned at her. “Who said anything about the Falcon?”

“Well, hello, what do we have here?”

Jaina stiffened at the sound of the familiar smooth and suave voice. It sounded so much like Uncle Lando, but far too young to be actually be his. Letting out an exasperated breath, she turned around to see a young dark-skinned man walking up to the three of them, a charming smile on his face as he walked with a slightly exaggerated swagger. Lando “Chance” Calrissian Junior was every bit of his father, almost to a fault. To Jaina, it often came across as if he was trying to hard to emulate his father rather than be his own person. Still, his charm seemed to be just as effective and seemed to always have everyone else fooled. Everyone, that is, besides her.

“Hey, Chance,” Jacen said as he extended a hand to the other young man. “Thanks for agreeing to help us.”

Chance shook his hand for all of a millisecond before instantly moving on to Jaina, taking her hand in his and gently kissing it. “Anything for the Jedi Princess,” he said with a wink.

Jaina scoffed as she withdrew her hand. “You’re a riot, Calrissian,” she muttered.

Anakin cleared his throat to get their attention. “So, how exactly are you going to help us?”

“Chance’s got a ship of his own,” said Jacen. “He’s agreed to take us wherever we need to go to find out who these Children of Vader are.”

“And you knew we would have to go offworld?”

“No. It was simply a precautionary measure. Besides, I had a feeling that these guys are more than just a locally based group. If they are ambitious enough to attack the New Republic, then they must be operating elsewhere.”

“Even so,” Jaina said, “we can’t leave until they’ve lifted the security lockdown.”

“Then we wait,” Jacen replied. “As soon as they do, we leave. Simple as that.”

Jaina glared at him. “You know it almost never is.”

“What kind of ship do you have?” Anakin asked Chance, no doubt trying to steer his siblings away from another argument.

Chance beamed at him. “Why don’t I show you guys? I’ve been itching to show off the renovations I’ve made to it.”

“You mean what your dad’s people have made to it,” Jaina said pointedly.

Chance feigned a wince. “You wound my heart, Miss Solo.”

Jaina allowed herself a smile as she crossed her arms. “I learn from the best.”

*  *  *

Locking up the suitcase which contained her dancing-girl outfit, the woman known by the stage name of Lola let out a breath as she readjusted the jacket of her far more modest civilian attire. She had hoped to be off New Alderaan by the time everything had kicked off, but obviously other people involved had different intentions in mind.

“You guys sure do know how to make a scene,” she muttered under her breath.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” said the other occupant of her room. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Of course I knew,” she snapped back. “But thanks to your little ‘theatrics,’ the planet is now on temporary lockdown and I can’t leave to do my part. I told you guys when I would be leaving the planet and you went ahead with your own schedule regardless. You only have yourselves to blame for this delay.”

“Remember who you’re speaking to. I would be careful with my next choice of words.”

“Well, you’re not me, are you? And you can’t get rid of me because you need me.”

“We can always find someone else.”

Lola scoffed. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be paying me as much as you are. But, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night and feel tough.”

The brief moment of silence that preceded her audience’s next statement told her that her words had left the impact she had intended for them. “As soon as you can leave New Alderaan, do so and meet with us at the rendezvous point so that we may carry out the next phase of our plans. I trust that you have everything you will need.”

Lola smiled as she patted her suitcase. “It’s all right here.”

“Good. Don’t keep us waiting too long.”

With that, the holographic form of the other speaker fizzled out and Lola stored away the holoprojector. A mere moment later, she heard a knock at her door and she opened it to see her fellow bandmates standing outside, all with their own suitcases ready.

“Hey, Lola,” said Ryara. “We’re boarding the ship now.”

“Oh,” Lola said. “Have they lifted the lockdown?”

“Not yet, but Rozza thinks they’re getting close to doing so, and she wants us to take off as soon as they do so we don’t waste anymore time here. We’re already late for our venue on Hosnian Prime. Are you all set?”

Lola nodded as she pulled her suitcase off the bed. “Ready.”

“Are you all right?” asked Jani. “We thought we heard you arguing with someone.”

“Oh, it was nothing. Just one of those pushy agents.”

“I keep saying you oughta call up their agencies and file a complaint or something,” said Sheela.

“I know, but they always find a way to persist.” Closing the door behind her, Lola looked at her bandmates and smiled. “Come on, then. We’ve got a show to perform.”

Transformers Regenerated: Beyond Imagination I, Chapter Six

 CHAPTER SIX: CAUGHT IN A WEB

Cybertron, long ago

“It should probably go without saying, Theseus, but I don’t think you quite realize what it is you have created.”

“I cannot take credit for his creation,” replied High Councilor Theseus, regarding the wide-eyed Expanse with his colleague Shockwave. “That honor goes to Boreas, who authorized the operation to begin with.”

“Still, the fact that you’re even associated is going to put a target on your head, in Proteus’s optics.” Shockwave raised a hand to his blue-plated chin, regarding the young ‘bot in front of him. “I will admit, his existence is something of a technological marvel. A cold-constructed ‘bot with powers? The Functionists aren’t the only ones whose heads will be spinning if they learn about him.”

Theseus placed a hand on Shockwave’s shoulder. “Which is exactly why I need you to keep him safe. Safe and hidden. The Functionists are slowly but surely accumulating their power. If Proteus successfully passes his legislation to legitimize their influence, it will send Cybertron on a dark spiral, and ‘bots like young Expanse will suffer the consequences.”

Shockwave eyed his fellow councilor warily. “There’s something else you aren’t telling me, Theseus. I can tell. You aren’t exactly the type to care about the safety of individuals. What is your real reason for caring about Expanse and his safety?”

Expanse looked between the two councilors, oblivious to the meaning of their words. He watched as Theseus glanced at him before whispering something into Shockwave’s audio receptor; the entire time, Shockwave simply stared at Expanse, almost as if he was studying him as some sort of art piece. It was the same way the bots who had operated on him back at the laboratory had looked at him. It was a look that Expanse was beginning to grow quite tired of.

Once Theseus was done speaking, Shockwave nodded sagely. “I see. Yes, it would be imperative to keep him out of sight and out of mind. Primus forbid if a bot like him were to fall into the wrong hands.”

“And that,” Theseus said with a small smile, “is why I feel safe in knowing that I am putting him in the right ones.”

Mojoworld

“If you’re quite done screaming, maybe we can have a proper discussion—”

“Give me a break!” Gears snapped at his counterpart. “If you had been through the same scrap that I have, you would be doing the same!”

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” Other-Gears retorted. He gestured to himself and the other four Autobots in the cell with them. “We’ve all been through some tough slag. We might be from different realities, but we are still Autobots at the end of the day.”

“Well, I’m still not sure about this one,” muttered a blue and gray Autobot as he pointed a thumb at a green mech with a very sleek and streamlined body. 

“What are you talking about?” the green mech replied. “I’m an Autobot, just like you! Decimus Prime, at your service!”

Gears raised an eyebrow. “Decimus Prime, huh? How does a Prime of all bots gets themself captured?”

“Unless I’m mistaken, Primes in his reality are little more than generals,” said a bulky brown and tan Autobot. “Certainly not the legendary bots they are in my reality.”

“Nor mine,” said Other-Gears. “Now then, how about we introduce ourselves to our friend? Hopefully he’ll be courteous to do the same.”

“Whirl of Earth-82302,” said the blue helicopter bot.

“Fallback of Earth-112610,” said the brown bot.

“Silverstreak of Earth-90801,” said a small silver and white bot.

“Ben— I mean, uh, Decimus Prime of Earth… uh… something or other.”

The five strange bots all looked to Gears expectantly and he sighed as he lowered his head.

“Gears of Earth-9814,” he grumbled.

“Well met,” said Other-Gears. “So, Gears, how did you end up here?”

“I was on a mission on my Earth when I got teleported to some other reality. Earth-Four-something, I dunno. Anyway, it turned out that another ‘bot from my Earth was captured and taken to this place, and so some humans went with me to rescue him, only for me to get captured.” Gears splayed his hands out. “Now do you see why I’m so frustrated.”

“Fair enough, I’d say,” said Fallback. “I was just performing a routine scouting mission when I was captured. Based on what the others have told me, they were all just minding their own business prior to getting abducted.”

“Not me!” exclaimed Decimus Prime. “I was going up against Vilgax and his forces when—”

“Not now, Decimus,” Other-Gears said exasperatedly. Shaking his head, he said to Gears, “When I was captured, I overheard my captors saying that they had nearly finished collecting ‘bots from the ‘main pillars.’ Don’t ask me what that means, but since I was the last one to end up here before you showed up… I’m guessing they’re getting ready to do whatever it is they’re planning to do.”

“Wonderful,” Gears said. “And I take it you’ve already tried breaking out.”

“Trust me, pal, if it were that easy, we wouldn’t all be here.”

Gears sighed as he slumped down onto the floor, holding his head in his hands. Once again his processor was beginning to overheat from all the information he was being given. If he got another info-dump, his cranial unit was probably going to explode.

Suddenly, the room started to shake and he quickly got back onto his feet. Around the six Autobots, the walls began to raise, revealing metal bars that separated them from a much larger chamber. In fact, the “room” they were in was actually a cage that was being lowered from the ceiling, and Gears could see several other cages similar to theirs. Some carried an assortment of Cybertronians, others humans and a variety of other beings. In one, he could see Spider-Girl along with a bunch of other costumed heroes similar to her; likewise for Jean Grey and her cage full of various X-People. Once the cages had touched down onto the ground below, the bars of their cells lowered, freeing them all from their respective cages. At the same time, a massive screen that overlooked the entire chamber turned on to display the visage of a rather grotesque-looking being.

“Welcome, my champions, to Mojoworld! You have all been selected to take part in a tournament that will decide who is worthy enough to make the transition to the New World! This is only the first of many, many more to come, so please be courteous and make it quick!”

“Screw that!” exclaimed a Decepticon that had been in one of the other cages. “I’m outta here!”

He converted to his jet mode and started to take off only for a massive energy beam to fire from out of the ceiling and disintegrate him. On the screen, the disgusting creature shook his head in admonishment.

“Oh, I’m afraid that it’s not going to be that easy. If you wish to leave the arena, then you must win the tournament. If you don’t, then you die. Simple as that, really.”

“So, what, are we supposed to fight each other?” Whirl called out.

“If you think it will improve your chances, then have at it,” Mojo replied. “But the main objective of the tournament—the only one that will guarantee your victory—is survival.”

With that, Mojo pressed a button off-screen and from above descended several dozen blue and purple robots. They did not appear to be Cybertronian from what Gears could tell, but they were still big and appeared to be heavily armed.

“And with that, let us begin Stage One! If you can survive the Sentinels, then you may proceed to the other stages. If not, well… it’s been nice knowing you.”

The Sentinels’ optics glowed to life as they began to march on their awaiting victims, arms raised to unleash hell. With no other options at his disposal, Gears deployed his weapons and charged into battle.

*  *  *

As battle broke out between the Sentinels and the dimensionally displaced heroes and villains, Mojo studied his main monitor and tapped a clawed finger on the screen.

“Major Domo, get over here.”

Mojo’s obedient right-hand man was at his side in an instant. “Yes, my liege?”

“That one Autobot… the blue and red one… where did you get him?”

“The monitors captured him along with Spider-Girl and Jean Grey of Earth-103192, my liege.”

“But he’s not from Earth-103192, is he? I’m pretty sure that one got killed off already.”

“Yes, my liege. He is from Earth-9814.”

“What?!” Mojo whirled around, staring at Major Domo in disbelief. “You mean the same reality that Expanse is originally from? What are even the odds of that? We only just registered it in our database a few months ago!”

“I’m not quite sure what happened, my liege,” Major Domo said. “An external factor must have pulled him from his original reality and dropped him into Earth-103192 before he ended up here in Mojoworld—which I believe he accessed through Dr. Reed Richards’ Bridge.”

Mojo narrowed his already tiny eyes as he clenched his fists. “Richards,” he growled. “A most confounding human—and he’s not even a mutant! Someone must be behind this… and I’m going to find out who.”

“Of course, my liege. Before or after the tournament is finished?”

“Oh, after, obviously. Get me something to munch on. This one is gonna be a riot, I can already tell.”

“The ratings seem to be positive at the moment.”

“Good. Make sure it stays that way.”

Earth

As the Cobra B.A.T. and Viper drones flew out of the hideout to terrorize the city of Detroit, Old Snake stepped away from his computer and turned around to face Sari in her cell. However, his attention did not appear to be focused on her as he raised a hand to the side of his mask, speaking into a hidden communicator.

“Make this quick. I’m busy.” The Cobra leader paused as he listened to the speaker on the other end. “Yes, actually. How did you…? Whatever. Shall I bring her to you, then?”

Knowing that Old Snake was referring to her, Sari felt her heart sink into her stomach. As she swallowed her building dread, Old Snake turned away from her and motioned to Baroness and Doctor Arkeville.

“Follow me.”

Baroness raised an eyebrow at him. “Where are we going?”

“No questions. Just follow me.”

With some reluctance, Baroness and Arkeville followed Old Snake out of the room, leaving Sari alone with her father and the still-unconscious Autobots. For the longest time, the only sounds she heard were those of the battle taking place outside and the intermittent sobs of her father. Just as she was about to offer her father futile words of comfort, she heard an all-too familiar voice echo throughout the chamber.

“And so the wayward child returns. It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

Sari clenched her fists. “You.”

From out of the shadows, a large arachnid emerged, all eight of its green eyes glowing as it walked over to Sari’s cell. The tarantula brought its head close to the bars of the cell, enough for Sari to see the saliva dripping from its maw.

“You continue to be a persistent factor in the universe’s confounding scheme,” Tarantulas hissed. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

Sari glared at the Predacon. “Let me guess, you’re the brains behind Old Snake and his schemes? Guess it’s true when they say there’s always a bigger fish.”

Tarantulas cackled, a sound that made Sari involuntarily cringe. “Oh, even one as arrogant as myself cannot take credit for everything that a human like himself has done. Think of me as more of a… benefactor. There is enough overlap between our respective schemes that we each saw it beneficial to work together. It helps that we’ve both had connections to Scorponok and his Machination project.”

“Uh-huh,” Sari said dryly. “So what is it you’re up to this time? Last time I saw you, you and your buddies were falling through a vortex.”

“As were you,” Tarantulas pointed out. “And yet, here you are, safe and sound. Now, how could that be possible?”

“Something tells me you already know the answer….”

Tarantulas clicked his mandibles together. “The Warren. Something that has confounded the greatest minds of Cybertron for eons, yet somehow you have managed to use it in a way that no one else has been able to despite countless attempts.”

“Hey, don’t look to me as any kind of expert,” Sari said. “I can barely explain what happened, let alone how or why.”

“Clearly there is something special about you,” Tarantulas went on, not really listening to her. “Something that has piqued their interest.”

“Whose interest?”

“The Omega Guardians. Those who were made to protect the very fabric of reality. I can only imagine how much your little act of historical revisionism has angered them, on top of everything else that has transpired within the past year.”

Stepping away from Sari’s cell, Tarantulas crawled over to one of the many pieces of machinery that was installed within Old Snake’s lair, a metal archway connected to a set of monitors. Transforming to his robot mode, Tarantulas accessed the device’s main console and the monitors lit up, each one showing something different. On some of them, Sari made out what looked like Optimus Prime and his Autobots; however, their appearances varied between each screen, some more radically than others. Some of the screens showed things that were beyond imagination, impossible to discern a comprehensible description with mere words.

“This,” Tarantulas said as he turned back around, “is the Timemaze. The culmination of so many years of work, and my key to unraveling the designs of the Omega Guardians and thwarting them once and for all. I’ve already had a successful test run by using it remotely on a hapless Autobot.”

Sari’s eyes went wide as realization dawned on her. “Wait. You’re the one responsible for Gears disappearing?”

“Is that his name?” Tarantulas said dismissively. “Well, you’re welcome to join him, so long as it accomplishes what I desire.”

With that, he pulled a switch and a portal materialized within the archway. Tarantulas then marched backed over to Sari’s cell and opened it, reaching in to grab her before she could escape.

“Of course,” he continued, “I can’t guarantee that you’ll find him so easily… let alone make it home. Such is the downside of interdimensional travel.”

Sari could only scream in protest as Tarantulas threw her into the portal within the Timemaze and the world spun away from her.

Cybertron, long ago

Years passed. Centuries, even. Around him, the world changed, and yet he was none the wiser for it.

He was aware that there were other students like himself; bots who had powers like him. But he was never permitted to see them, or vice versa. Shockwave would never explain to him why, nor would he explain why the world was always changing.

Expanse wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about it. Scared? He didn’t feel scared. Angry? He didn’t feel angry. Yet for some reason he felt that he should be feeling those emotions, but his systems were refusing to process them. Almost as if they were being blocked out.

One day, Shockwave did something unexpected: he allowed Expanse to meet one of his former students. His name was Soundwave (any relation, Expanse wondered?) and he could read minds, just like Expanse. It comforted him to know that he was not alone; he already knew that there were others with powers like his, but it was even better that there was someone who knew how powers like his own worked.

Soundwave was silent as he stepped into the room and stood in front of Expanse. Several minutes passed without neither bot speaking a word. Expanse could read Soundwave’s mind and could tell what the other bot was thinking and thoughts Soundwave was trying to send his way. Yet for some reason he was not responsive to any of Expanse’s own messages, and after a long session, Soundwave turned to look at Shockwave.

“I cannot read him,” the blue-plated mech said in a monotonic, heavily modulated voice.

“Is he blocking you out?” Shockwave asked.

“No. There is a barrier, but it is not one he has put up. I believe he has been shadowplayed.”

Shockwave frowned. “Theseus didn’t mention that bit,” he murmured. “Perhaps it was to keep his mind safe should the Functionists ever get their hands on him. Of course, if the Institute somehow got a hold of him….”

“I believe they already have.” Soundwave raised a hand to his visor, which changed color as it cast an ultraviolet light on Expanse. He could not tell what it was they were seeing on him, but from Shockwave’s expression he could tell that it was nothing good.

“I don’t understand why Theseus would have hidden this from me,” the councilor murmured.

“Perhaps he did not,” Soundwave replied. “Perhaps he was just as unaware as you are. Or perhaps….”

Shockwave looked at him. “Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps he was shadowplayed after Theseus placed him under your care.”

“Impossible! He has been here the whole time! There’s no way they could have….”

Shockwave trailed off and Expanse was tempted to read his mind to perceive his thoughts, but resisted; they had long established a boundary of privacy that Expanse refused to cross, even in times of duress such as now. He was about to voice his concern aloud when Shockwave spoke again, his attention still on Soundwave.

“We will need to relocate him. Somewhere the Institute, the Functionists, not even the Council will find him.”

“What would you suggest, Councilor?” Soundwave asked.

Shockwave placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the room, shutting Expanse in isolation once more.

More time passed. Cybertron was no longer his home. He was now living in Hell.

The people Shockwave had now entrusted his safety with were called the Decepticons. Expanse did not understand the meaning of the name, and no one was particularly willing to educate him.

One Decepticon was especially interested in him. He was a large black-and-purple mech named Zardak, and he requested to the one known as Trannis that Expanse be placed directly under his supervision. No reason was given, to either Trannis or Expanse, and Expanse now found himself constantly surrounded by bots that studied him just like Shockwave and those before him had. Before long, they started operating on him just as they had before, giving him weapons and tools that he didn’t know how to use or what purpose they served. They would ignore his questions and instead talk amongst themselves as if he wasn’t even there.

Eventually the day came when he finally realized what they were doing to him; when they gave him energy claws that extended from his servos, devastating eye beams that emitted from his optical sensors, and tools that allowed him to use his psychic abilities to disable enemies. 

They were turning him into a weapon.

Was this what Shockwave had intended for him? Had this been the plan all along? He ultimately got his answer when Zardak reported the results of his operations to Shockwave, whose appearance had changed drastically since the last time Expanse had seen him.

“The modifications have been successfully implemented,” Zardak said as he presented the upgraded Expanse to Shockwave. “We believe he is ready for a test run.”

“Is that your personal assessment or one supported by Magnificus?” Shockwave asked, his tone far more dry and monotonous than how Expanse remembered it. “In any case, he is not ready for a transwarp jump until we have tested his abilities in combat. Only then will he be ready for an actual test run.”

Zardak scowled but did not object. Before Expanse knew it, he had been put on a team with other Decepticons—or “Maladroids” as they were apparently known as—and given the task of raiding an Autobot outpost. From what Expanse had been able to gather, the Autobots were the enemies of the Decepticons, which apparently was what he was now. Why they were enemies, no one cared to tell him. As soon as they had been given their mission, Expanse and his teammates were loaded onto a ship and sent on their way.

The name of the planet was unimportant, as were the identities of the Autobots he had been assigned to kill. All Expanse knew was that he did not want to kill. But he had been given no choice in the matter.

As soon as they had dropped down, his teammates were quick to jump into action: Deadlock started unloading his guns, Slicer marched forward in his exo-suit, and the others gleefully indulged themselves in carnage. Expanse was thus left on his own, forced to watch the chaos unfold.

As he contemplated on whether or not to act, to allow himself to give into his powers and become the weapon the Decepticons wanted him to be, he detected a small burst of energy and turned around to see a small figure appear from out of nowhere and land on the ground in front of him. While roughly the size of a Mini-Con, they did not appear to be mechanical and in fact appeared to be organic, albeit with traces of technological components. As the organic creature grunted and got to its feet, Expanse looked around to see if the other Decepticons had noticed. Once he saw that they were all distracted by their fight with the Autobots, Expanse spoke to the organic creature.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’ll answer that later,” the organic replied. “First thing’s first, where am I and what year is it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know this planet’s name,” Expanse said. “As for the year… according to the calculations of my internal chronometer, it should be Cycle 9792.”

“Great. Let me do the math in my head.” The organic was quiet for a moment as she closed her eyes before letting out a heavy sigh. “So I’ve been sent back twenty-five years into the past. Wonderful. I haven’t even been born yet. Built. Whatever.”

Expanse tilted his head. “Wait… you’re from the future?”

“Yes. And unless you help me get back… there’s not going to be a future for me to get back to.”

Transformers Regenerated: No Other Like It

TALES OF THE DISAPPEARED

NO OTHER LIKE IT

Orvus Base, Cycle 9794

“Come on, Searchlight, you’ve gotta believe me!”

The look the white and blue Autobot was one that Scrounge was well-accustomed to; one that he had received more times than he cared to count. It was a look that was a painful mix of skepticism and weariness. It was the type of look that Scrounge would get even if he was stating an indisputable fact, such as “Autobot symbols are red, Decepticon symbols are purple,” or “Omega Supreme is big.”

It was a look that Scrounge was very, very tired of.

“I believe in facts, Scrounge, not daydreaming hallucinations,” Searchlight curtly replied, returning his focus to his surveillance station. “You seriously expect me to believe you saw Metroplex?”

“I didn’t say I saw Metroplex,” Scrounge protested. “I said I saw something that looked like Metroplex. Look, can’t you just check the cameras?”

“Can’t. Goldbug wants me to keep an optical sensor out for the Steelhaven; it’s scheduled to make a stop here any cycle now. I can’t waste time investigating your wild claims.”

Scrounge crossed his arms. ”If it were Slink, you’d be interested.”

Searchlight scowled. “Slink has been imprisoned at Garrus-16 for….” He shook his head. “Look, just keep quiet and let me work. Maybe after the Steelhaven leaves, I’ll check it out. Or, better yet, ask Rollbar or one of the others to look.”

“I already have. I’ve asked everybody.”

“Then that’s too bad, I guess.”

Scrounge sighed dejectedly as he converted into his wheel mode and rolled out of the room. It always frustrated him how no one ever took him seriously. Sure, he had exaggerated a tale or two in the past, but he almost never made stuff up. Even when they saw that he was right about something—like that time he discovered a scraplet infestation at one of the bases he was stationed at—they still treated everything he said with a high degree of dubiousness.

Perhaps it was because of this that he often felt like a burden to his fellow Autobots, and that the only reason they kept him around was because of his special, multi-purpose arm (there truly was no other like it). Perhaps it was because of this uniqueness that he had a hard time fitting in with others. Regardless of how many times they clashed with each other, Goldbug and his Throttlebots had been together for long enough that they were almost like a family unit, a unit which Scrounge was not a part of. Due to this, he had transferred from base to base more times than perhaps any other Autobots, because this sense of isolation would always hurt his morale and cause his superiors to send him off somewhere else to be someone else’s problem. The only bot who ever seemed to tolerate his presence was Blaster, but he had vanished with the rest of the Ark’s crew ninety years ago. Since then, Scrounge had felt more alone than he had in his entire life.

Rolling up to a window, Scrounge transformed and looked out to the planet of Salvvatan VI. He was positive that the large white shape floating over the planet’s surface was Metroplex, or at the very least a Titan of some sort. No one had seen Metroplex since he defeated the Decepticons’ weapon Trypticon during the early days of the war, and if he was right then this would be an opportunity to find out what Metroplex had been up to in all this time. But apparently Goldbug and the others weren’t interested in that….

After receiving word that the Steelhaven had arrived and docked at Orvus Base, Scrounge waited a few minutes before making his way to the command center. There, all six Throttlebots—Goldbug, Searchlight, Chase, Freeway, Rollbar, and Wideload—were gathered to greet Fortress and his crew; apparently Goldbug was already getting the pleasantries out of the way without waiting for Scrounge to join them. Not surprising but disheartening nonetheless.

“Feel free to make yourselves at home,” Goldbug was saying to the Steelhaven’s gray-and-dark-gray commander. “The lab is always open to Brainstorm and the Technobots.”

“Brilliant!” said Brainstorm. “I’ve been meaning to make a few final adjustments to my mass-displacement gun.”

“Yeah, better you mess up someone else’s lab rather than our own,” muttered Hardhead.

Waving for the two to be quiet, Fortress said to Goldbug, “Thank you, commander. We won’t be here too long; just making a stop while we continue our hunt for Scorponok.”

“You guys are still searching for him?” asked Freeway. “Hasn’t he been missing for… well, longer than Prime or Megatron?”

“Until I know for sure he is either dead or in custody, I will not stop searching for him,” Fortress said firmly. “Who knows what terrible things he could be up to as we speak.”

Goldbug cleared his vocal processor. “Um, right. Well, in any case, I hope that you find your stay here to be a welcoming one.”

“Uh, may I interject?” Scrounge spoke up.

Goldbug turned his head to look at him; even with his visor and faceplate, Scrounge could feel his commander’s wariness. “What is it, Scrounge?”

Before he could say anything, Searchlight interjected, “Scrounge, if this is about that Metroplex scrap, then I already told you to wait until after Fortress and his crew have left!”

Fortress raised an eyebrow. “Metroplex?”

Goldbug waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Scrounge claims he’s seen Metroplex on the surface of Salvvatan Six, but all of our scanners indicate that there’s nothing there.”

“Maybe if you would actually look with your own optical sensors, you would see what I’m seeing, instead of relying on faulty—”

“That’s enough, Scrounge. Get back to your work station before I—”

Before Goldbug could finish, he was interrupted by an alarm blaring from the main computer. Searchlight rushed over to check the monitor before turning back to the others with a distressed look.

“A Decepticon ship just came out of hyperspace.”

“A waship?” Goldbug asked.

“No, but still pretty big. It’s an older model, too; seems to be barely holding together.”

“Should we try hailing them?” asked Rollbar. “I mean, I know they’re the enemy, but ever since the ceasefire they haven’t caused us too many problems….”

Searchlight studied the ship on the monitor. “I don’t think they’ve even noticed us yet. In fact, it seems like they’re heading straight for the planet itself.”

Scrounge’s optics lit up. “Maybe they’re here for Metroplex! Goldbug, we have to stop them!”

Goldbug sighed in exasperation. “Scrounge, for the love of Primus….”

“He is right about one thing, though,” said Fortress. “If the Decepticons are here, it can’t be for anything good—Metroplex or no Metroplex. We should send someone to at least keep an optic on them.”

“Fine,” Goldbug muttered. “Roadburn, take a scouting team down to the planet to—”

“My name’s not Roadburn!” protested the red and blue Throttlebot. “It’s Chase!”

“There’s already someone named Chase.”

“He wasn’t protoformed until after I came online! Hell, I was already calling myself ‘Chase’ before he—”

“Whatever. Just take Rollbar and Scrounge with you and keep an eye on the ‘Cons. Do not engage with them; just report back to us if they start doing something fishy.”

“I’ll have Hardhead go with you to provide support in case they spot you and engage you first,” said Fortress.

“Sounds good.” Goldbug turned to Scrounge, Chase, and Rollbar. “Any questions?”

The three assembled Autobots shook their heads, and with that Goldbug gave them the signal to go. As Scrounge rolled up into his wheel mode and followed the two Throttlebots, with Hardhead trailing behind them, he couldn’t help but feel excited about this mission. He knew he was right about Metroplex being down there on the planet, and maybe once they all saw him for themselves they would finally believe him and never doubt him ever again. Because the alternative would mean that no one would ever believe him about anything ever again and would forever treat him as nothing more than a burden with a useful arm.

And that was something he did not even want to consider….

*  *  *

Departing from Orvus Base, the Autobot shuttle carrying Scrounge, Chase, Rollbar, and Hardhead trailed the Decepticon ship as it entered Salvvatan Six’s atmosphere and descended towards the planet’s surface, heading directly for Metroplex. Or, rather, what Scrounge was positive was Metroplex.

“See?” he said to the others, pointing out the viewport at the large white structure. “That’s Metroplex! Don’t tell me you don’t see it!”

“I mean, I see it, whatever ‘it’ is,” said Chase. “But it could just be an abandoned outpost or something.”

“Then how come no one has spotted it until now? You guys have been stationed here for longer than me; surely you did a scan of the planet when you first arrived.”

“That’s a question for Searchlight or Goldbug, not me.” Chase shook his head. “Look, just pipe down for now. Rollbar, keep an optic on their trajectory.”

Scrounge crossed his arms as he slumped back sulkily in his seat. Even with visual proof, they still didn’t believe him. What was it going to take?

Sitting near him, Hardhead looked over at Scrounge. “If it makes you feel any better,” he said quietly, “I have friend who would definitely be interested in this.”

“Really?” Scrounge asked.

“Sure. Nightbeat lives for the unexplained. He might not believe you on word alone, but if you give him physical proof, then he’s all in.”

“Too bad he’s not here, then. Because right now, I feel like—”

“PULL UP! PULL UP!” Rollbar cried.

Scrounge and Hardhead held on tight as Chase pulled back the ship’s control just as it was struck by gunfire, causing it to shake violently.

“Scrap, they’ve spotted us!” Chase exclaimed. “They shot out our navigation systems; gonna have to make an emergency landing.”

As the ship plummeted towards the ground, Scrounge caught a glimpse of the Decepticon ship ahead of them. A ramp had lowered to allow several Decepticons—all heavily armed—to disembark; while some of them headed towards Metroplex, the rest made their way towards the Autobot ship. By the time Chase had finished his rough emergency landing, they were completely surrounded by Decepticons, all with guns pointed straight at them as they emerged from the vessel.

“How many of these guys do you think you could take on by yourself, Hardhead?” Rollbar whispered to the larger green Autobot.

“Let me get back to you on that,” Hardhead grunted.

“You Autobots sure don’t know how to mind your own business,” growled the leader of the Decepticon group. He was a tall and lanky bot, with a right arm that terminated with a sharp, curved hook. Scrounge recognized him to be the bounty hunter Lockdown, who had attempted to assassinate Sentinel Prime prior to the reignition of the Great War.  “I thought that little agreement you signed after the Cataclysm meant you would let us stay in our lane.”

“I’m not the right person to ask, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t say anything about letting you guys encroach on our territory,” retorted Chase. “The Salvvatan system is in the Autobot Commonwealth, last time I checked.”

“Figures. In any case, we’re not here to cause trouble. Just picking up something we were hired to find.”

“Metroplex….” Scrounge murmured, looking towards the Titan that overshadowed them.

Lockdown shrugged. “Not necessarily him in particular. Just any Titan we can get our servos on.”

Scrounge turned to Chase and the others. “Now do you guys believe me? Even the Decepticons think that’s Metroplex! Or at least a Titan of some kind!”

“Okay, okay, you were right,” grumbled Chase. “Do you want a consolation prize or something? We still need to stop them from taking Metroplex.”

“Yeah, you’re in no position to do that.” To the rest of his gang, Lockdown said, “Keep an eye on them while I check on Clobber and the others’ progress.”

With that, Lockdown raised a hand to his cranial communicator, most likely speaking via inter-Decepticon radio. Scrounge rewired his special arm’s sensors to his audio receptors so he could listen in on their conversation.

“Report, Clobber.”

“We literally just got here, Lockdown. We’ve just started setting up the transporters.”

“Make it quick. We’ve got a tight schedule to keep. You know how antsy our employer can get when we miss deadlines.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll tell ‘em to… wait.”

Lockdown scowled. “Wait for what? I told you to get a move on.”

“No, no. Timeframe’s trying to tell me something. He says that the Titan is starting to teleport!”

“What?! You didn’t try to shut off his systems?!”

“You didn’t give us time to—”

“Enough.” Lockdown converted to his alternate mode, a spiked car, and revved up his engine. “Get out of there and return to the ship. Have Meganeuron—”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Hardhead charged towards Lockdown and lunged at him as the bounty hunter attempted to drive off. The other Decepticons started to open fire, but with their attention focused on Hardhead, this left them vulnerable to Chase and Rollbar’s guns as they unloaded their weapons as well.

“Wait, guys!” Scrounge tried to cry over the sounds of gunfire. “Metroplex is about to teleport! We have to….”

He quickly realized, however, that no one was listening to him, too preoccupied with fighting to care about anything he had to say. Hell, even if they weren’t, they still wouldn’t care. It had taken him many years to realize this, and he was just about done with it.

Rolling up into his wheel form, he sped off towards Metroplex, whose body was beginning to glow, indicating that the Titan was going to teleport at any moment. As soon as he reached the Titan’s massive outer hull, Scrounge transformed to his robot mode and began to climb up, converting back and forth to give himself momentum as he rolled up onto the city-sized robot. As he did this, he spotted the Decepticons that Lockdown had sent into Metroplex scrambling out of the Titan, led by a massive purple Decepticon whom he figured was Clobber. None of them seemed to notice him; for that matter, his fellow Autobots apparently hadn’t noticed his absence yet either, as they were still too busy dealing with Lockdown and the other Decepticons.

Typical, he thought. He really did mean nothing to any of them. If he were to leave now with Metroplex, wherever he was going, it wouldn’t make any difference—besides the fact that they would no longer have an Autobot with a special arm like his. There was, after all, no other like it.

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his optic and he looked up to see a cloaked figure standing over him. Scrounge’s optics went wide as he took in the stranger’s skeletal appearance. Throughout his life he had caught glimpses of the mythical Necrobot, the neutral who wandered the deserted battlefields to collect the dead, but had never seen him up close. Until now, of course.

“This is it, huh?” he murmured. “This is how I die.”

The Necrobot knelt down and took Scrounge’s hand into his own. “No, my friend,” he said softly. “This is how you live.”

It was at that moment that Scrounge noticed the briefcase in the Necrobot’s other hand, and before he could even question it, the world vanished around him.

*  *  *

“Gone? What do you mean he’s gone?”

“You can go down there and check for yourself,” Chase replied once he had finished debriefing Goldbug and Fortress of what had happened down on Salvvatan’s surface. “When the Titan—or whatever it was—vanished, Scrounge must have gone with it, ‘cos he’s nowhere to be found. The planet’s a desolate wasteland, too, so there wasn’t really anywhere for him to fallen into or behind.”

“And the Decepticons?” Fortress asked.

“They left as soon as the Titan vanished. Guess it was all they had come here for. Hardhead managed to restrain himself enough to not kill any of ‘em, so hopefully this incident doesn’t cause any problems for the higher ups.”

“Based on your report, it sounds to me that Lockdown was working for someone other than Decepticon High Command,” Goldbug said, rubbing his chin. “It’s anyone’s guess as to who, though.”

“In any case, I’ll inform Twincast of Scrounge’s disappearance,” said Fortress. “I know that her brother Blaster is friends with him, so he might want to know once he and the rest of Prime’s crew are found.”

“If they’re found,” Goldbug replied.

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?”

With that, all of the gathered Autobots went their separate ways to return to their normal lives. Goldbug and Fortress went off to file a report to Ultra Magnus. Brainstorm secluded himself in his lab. Chase and the other Throttlebots returned to their respective stations. Twincast filed away the news of Scrounge’s disappearance for when—if—she ever saw her brother again.

And for the next twenty years, that was the last time Scrounge of Altihex was ever thought of by anyone.