SIX: THE LONG CON
Earth, 1964
Dead End was bored.
In the grand scheme of things, this was nothing new. More often than not, he found any task he was given to be mind-numbingly boring and pointless. In fact, it was even worse now than it had been sixty years ago. With Megatron having gone missing (or declared dead, if you asked Starscream), then there was not much point in continuing the fight with the Autobots, covertly or otherwise. They had already lost their leader as well, so what did it matter? The war was over, as far as he was concerned, and with Cybertron left a desolate hellscape after Thunderwing’s little temper tantrum, it was only a matter of time before they all ran out of fuel and shut down for good. So what was the point of doing anything?
Clearly, however, his superiors did not share his viewpoint. While Starscream squabbled with the rest of High Command over what to do next, Shockwave had apparently began monitoring certain locations for future projects, with or without approval from the other higher-ups. Only a select few apparently knew what he was up to, and even Dead End hadn’t been made privy to the details. As far as he knew, the only one who seemed to know anything about what Shockwave was up to was his commanding officer Malignus, who had brought him and the rest of the crew all the way out to the deepest part of the Neutral Territories, to some worthless backwater world.
Upon discovering that the planet was inhabited, Malignus had decided to initiate an infiltration protocol, something that the Decepticons had done during the latter stages of the war as part of their “colonization program.” Infiltration protocols were actually supposed to be suspended following the disappearance of Megatron, but that wasn’t going to stop the ambitious little creep. And Dead End couldn’t bring himself to care enough to rat him out to High Command.
Apparently, most of the others in Malignus’ unit were of a similar mindset. Wildrider was always eager for an excuse to torment and kill innocents, Dark Iron blindly followed any orders he was given, Astrotrain and Blitzwing seemed to be using it as an excuse to look for Megatron (a waste of time, in Dead End’s opinion), and he was pretty sure Runabout was too dumb to even know how to use a comm device. The only potential outlier was Diabla, whom Dead End had always had a hard time getting a read on. Apparently she had spent some time undercover in the Autobots’ ranks, leading to the others distrusting her, but Malignus had enough faith in her capabilities to keep her around.
None of this, of course, changed the fact that Dead End was bored. Supremely bored. Bored enough that if wasn’t given something else to do soon, he was going to join Wildrider in running over fleshlings, and he usually hated doing anything with Wildrider. Right now, he was supposed to be posing as the transport for some fleshling who had a high position in some organization that Malignus was manipulating in order to engineer a destructive conflict between the planet’s most powerful nations. Dead End hadn’t been paying attention to the details, and at this point he was ready to just start doing his own thing, Primus be damned what Malignus thought of it.
When his sensors picked up another spark signature, he at first thought it was simply Wildrider or Runabout coming over to ruin his day further. But when he saw the gold automobile drive up, he did not recognize it as either of them, or any of the others for that matter. Which meant it had to have been an Autobot. The fact that the car driving around with some of those filthy humans in its interior only solidified that fact; Malignus had told Dead End that he had been chosen for his specific task thanks to his slightly higher tolerance of organics than the others. The average Decepticon wouldn’t so much as dare to let a disgusting organic occupy their alternate mode.
As soon as Dead End had made his deductions, he immediately forgot about the humans sitting in his own alternate mode’s interior and decided to do his own thing. Primus be damned. Transforming into his robot mode, he couldn’t help but take some pleasure—however fleeting the feeling was—as his occupants screamed from their bodies being crushed. It was going to be a pain to wash them out later… but it would be worth it.
Just as he had expected, the golden car transformed as well—albeit not before letting out its own human occupants—and took on the form of an Autobot warrior. Dead End felt he had seen their face before, but quickly dismissed the thought. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Nothing did.
Without a word, Dead End lunged at the Autobot.
* * *
“That fool. He’s ruined everything!”
Diabla watched as Malignus scurried about his underground lab, putting away all of his tools and schemes for global destruction. The rest of the Decepticons, for their part, simply watched with disinterested optics as the diminutive mech freaked out. Only Dark Iron, the suck-up that he was, seemed invested in his commander’s distress.
“Don’t worry, boss,” said the dark gray and gold Decepticon. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll take out that dumb Autobot and—”
“It’s not as simple as that, you fool!” Malignus snapped, throwing a wrench at Dark Iron’s head. It made a loud metal clang as it bounced off his cranium. “The humans now know of our existence! The whole point of an infiltration protocol is that no one is supposed to know about it—especially the natives!”
“Oh,” Dark Iron said. “So, what do we now?”
“We call it quits and leave,” said Blitzwing, standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. “This whole operation was a waste of time to begin with. We didn’t find Megatron and Shockwave’s gonna be upset when he finds out—”
“Frag Shockwave!” Malignus shrieked. “This isn’t about him! Or Megatron! We were on the verge of greatness! We were this close!” He closed the gap between his thumb and index finger to emphasize his point. “Now it’s all been ruined forever and I’m going to be the laughing stock of the Decepticon Empire!”
“You already were,” Diabla heard Astrotrain mutter, although Malignus did not seem to pick up on the remark.
As the small Decepticon continued ranting, his words nearly intelligible at this point, Runabout poked his head into the room, looking nervously around at the mess that had been made. “Hey, uh, boss. Sorry to bother you, but, uh, I think the Autobot is here.”
“Of course he is,” Malignus grumbled. “It was only a matter of time.” Tapping the top of his head with all of his fingers, he then said, “The Sharkticons. We still have the Sharkticons, don’t we? Yes, we can use those. Have them fall into a pool of Sharkticons.”
“What’s that gonna do?” asked Blitzwing.
“Buy us time. We trap them in the pool, and then, and then, I can monologue them about my scheme! Yes, that will work.”
Diabla shook her head. “What is monologuing about your scheme going to accomplish?”
“Shut up, Diabla! You’re not a brilliant mastermind like I am!” Malignus cackled to himself, his whole behavior becoming even more jittery than it had been before. “It’s all coming together. Shockwave will have no choice but to recognize my genius! They will promote me for sure!”
“I thought this wasn’t about Shockwave,” Blitzwing said. “What are you—”
Astrotrain placed a hand on his shoulder, giving his fellow Triple Changer a meaningful look and shake of the head. Turning back to Malignus, Astrotrain sighed and said, “We’ll get the pool set up, boss.”
Diabla watched the two of them leave before looking back over at Malignus, who had returned to his now-scattered schemes and was now putting them back together, although she was pretty sure he was putting them in the wrong places. Shaking her head, she slipped out of the room, unnoticed by any of the others. This whole fiasco had long outlived its purpose, and it was only a matter of time before it all blew up in Malignus’ face… perhaps even literally. The best thing she could do right now was to get out while she still could. And that was exactly what she was going to do.
A few hours later, as she was several miles away driving down an empty road, she felt the ground shake as she heard an explosion in the distance.
One did not get far in the function she performed without having some survival instincts….
* * *
“Casualties?”
“Malignus and Dark Iron are dead. Dead End, Wildrider, and Runabout are injured but still functional.” Astrotrain exchanged a look with Blitzwing before adding, “No clue what happened to Diabla. Haven’t seen her since right before we captured the Autobot.”
“And you are certain it was an Autobot?”
“I mean… it had to be, right?” Blitzwing asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I don’t recall seeing his badge, but he called us Decepticons and acted like he had been fighting us for quite some time, though I’ve certainly never met him before.”
On the viewscreen, Soundwave shifted as he regarded the two Triple Changers, who had contacted him from Malignus’s ship as it departed from Earth. “Have you reported this to Shockwave yet?”
“Negative,” said Astrotrain. “We tried hailing him but couldn’t get into contact with him.”
“And you hailed me instead of Starscream?”
“Well, uh, between you and me, I think Starscream’s got enough on his plate right now.”
“No comment,” Soundwave dully replied. After a moment, he then asked, “Are you currently en route to New Kaon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Report directly to me as soon as you arrive. Speak nothing of this to anyone unless I authorize it.”
“Uh…” Astrotrain glanced at Blitzwing, who simply shrugged. “Okay. I mean, yes, sir. See you soon.”
Without any further acknowledgment, Soundwave’s visage disappeared as the viewscreen blipped into darkness. Stepping away from the screen, Astrotrain looked over to Blitzwing with a confused expression.
“Why do you think he’s insisting on such secrecy?”
Blitzwing’s face twitched as it involuntary switched into one of his alternate personas, that of a demented black and red face. “Frag if I know! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
* * *
Orbit of Earth, 1969
Crasher was nervous.
She normally wasn’t the type to get nervous. In fact, she typically loathed bots who acted nervous and was above such a personality trait. But the position she had been placed in definitely warranted it.
Five years ago, Soundwave had assembled a crew of Decepticons to monitor the planet known as Earth—the same planet that Megatron and Optimus Prime’s Autobots had vanished on nearly seventy years ago. Ostensibly, the aim of the operation was to search for Megatron under the nose of Starscream, who insisted to this day that their leader had perished all those years ago. However, Crasher knew there was an ulterior motive to it.
Around that time, Malignus, an operative of the Secret Order, had established an infiltration cell on Earth in an attempt to prove his worth not just to Decepticon High Command but to the Secret Order that both he and Crasher were a part of. As far as she knew, no one else in Soundwave’s crew—not even Soundwave himself—were aware of the Secret Order’s existence. But the circumstances of Malignus’ death, as well as his involvement with Shockwave, had clearly prompted Soundwave to look into things a bit more closely. As far as she knew, he hadn’t uncovered anything that would jeopardize the Secret Order and its mission, but it was still too close for comfort.
It wasn’t like Crasher had any personal feelings for the Secret Order itself; more that it was the only chance she and a select few others had at achieving a goal that not so long ago had only been a simple dream. If Shockwave stayed true to his word, then perhaps that dream would finally be realized after all these years….
Still, with each year that passed, the greater the risk became that Soundwave would discover something that would cause everything to fall apart, and all of Crasher’s dreams would be quashed. She could not have that. She would not have that. And so she had done everything she could to mislead or misdirect her crewmates, without arising suspicion, in the hopes that they would eventually give up and leave Earth all together.
So far that had worked out. But today was going to be different.
“I’m picking up something,” said Storm Surge.
Crasher looked over to him as Soundwave stirred in his command seat. “What is it?” intoned the commander of the Longshot.
“Looks like a small spacecraft.” Storm Surge leaned in closer to the radar. “Doesn’t look Autobot-made. In fact, it looks like it’s coming from the planet itself.”
“What?” exclaimed Gunbarrel. “I thought those fleshings weren’t capable of space travel!”
“It would appear advancements have been made in their technology,” Soundwave said. “What is its estimated destination?”
“Looks like it’s headed for their moon,” said Storm Surge. “Don’t know what for. Not like there’s anything there.”
Gunbarrel snorted. “Bet they’ve never even been to their moon before. This is probably a big moment for them. Man, what a joke. I still think we should get Black Shadow or someone to come in and wipe out the planet; then we can look for Megatron in peace.”
“You are in no position to make such decisions,” Soundwave said sternly. “Remain silent unless you have useful information to dispense.”
Gunbarrel scowled as he slumped down in defeat. Storm Surge looked nervously over at his commander.
“So, ah, what do we do, then?”
“Nothing,” Soundwave replied. “Let the natives do as they will, so long as they do not interfere with our mission.”
“Yes, sir.”
The bridge fell silent again, and Crasher realized it was the silence that was getting on her nerves. The anticipation that, at some point, sooner or later, one of them was going to find something that she didn’t want them to find. It was driving her crazy. She had to get away from it all, if only for a moment.
After making an excuse of having to recharge, Crasher retreated to her habitation suite. Once she was in the privacy of her room (although she wouldn’t put it past Soundwave to have the whole ship bugged), she accessed her communicator and contacted the one bot she could trust to share her thoughts with… as much as the very prospect revolted her.
“Crasher to Bug Bite. Do you copy?”
“Well, that’s a voice I wasn’t expecting to hear today. What is it?”
“It feels like I’m going insane.” Crasher slumped down onto the floor and leaned her back against the wall. “Soundwave’s brought us to Earth—that dirtball planet Shockwave’s been messing around with—and I worry that he’s gonna find something that will jeopardize the Secret Order.”
“Didn’t realize you cared that much about these jerks.”
Crasher scowled. “It’s not that I care about them; it’s because they’re our only means of reclaiming everything we’ve lost. You know that, pinhead.”
“’Pinhead.’ Yup, adding that one to the list,” Bug Bite said dryly. “Look, this whole Secret Order thing is a long shot, anyway. I can’t say I have complete faith that Shockwave will hold up his end of the deal. Hell, so far the developments they’ve made with Transwarp technology have been a bust. You remember the Sigma Project? Were you there for that?”
“No, because I’m not a science freak like you.”
“Well, anyway, the Decepticons pretty much lost every bot they sent through Transwarp space and were unable to bring them back. I think they were able to briefly pull back one, but then lost them when they sent them too far into the future. If they can’t get simple time travel straight, then interdimensional stuff will be way out of the question for the next, oh, five hundred years?”
Crasher scoffed. “I can’t wait another decade, let alone five centuries. There’s gotta be another way.”
“If you think of one, I’m all ears. Until then, I’ve gotta go. Magnificus is yelling for me….”
With that, Bug Bite ended the call and Crasher was once again left alone in silence. She closed her eyes, let out a deep breath, and then got back to her feet. She would just have to grin and bear this; if Soundwave did end up exposing the Secret Order, she would simply have to let things play out and proceed from there. Who knew, maybe something better would turn up.
Until then, she would just have to wait.
* * *
Earth, 1987
“So this is Earth. How underwhelming.”
Flames surrounded Shatter and Dropkick as the Decepticon duo took in their surroundings. Their orbital jump had landed them at what appeared to be some kind of refueling station, likely for the natives’ transportations. Everything else was nothing but a desert landscape with not a single lifeform in sight, save for the two gawking at their feet. The pair of organics gaped at them in terror, too shocked to so much as scream. Dropkick was the first to take notice of them and he scoffed with indignation.
“The native lifeforms are even more primitive than I expected,” he muttered. Deploying his weapon, he pointed it at the humans and fired. Both of them were instantly liquefied and left as nothing more than puddles of water. Dropkick chuckled with satisfaction as he holstered his gun. “I like the way they pop.”
Shatter placed a hand on her comrade’s shoulder. “Focus. We have a mission to accomplish and we would do well not to dawdle. Soundwave indicated that these are the coordinates where he had encountered the anomaly.”
Dropkick snorted. “You’re really putting stock into what that creep says? He’s probably sending us to our dooms.”
“Soundwave may be many things, Dropkick, but he is not one to betray his fellow Decepticons. Nor is he one to lie.”
Despite her words, Shatter understood to a point her partner’s wariness. Three years ago, during a periodic patrol of the planet Earth while in search of the lost Megatron, Soundwave had detected a sudden burst of temporal energy. Investigating it, he eventually crossed paths with a horde of small mechanical soldiers, which in turn led to the discovery of a strange device in the possession of one of the humans. Soundwave had ultimately been forced to retreat, but the encounter had left him concerned enough that he had turned to the Decepticon Secret Service to help him investigate further, trusting them to be covert enough so as to not attract the attention of the native inhabitants—something which he could not have trusted his own crew of Decepticons to do.
Checking her scanner, Shatter saw that there indeed was something a few miles to the east. Dropkick seemed to catch the gleam in her optics as he tilted his head.
“We have a lead?”
“Indeed we do,” Shatter replied. “We head east.”
As one, the two Decepticons converted into their alternate modes—a pair of muscle cars that they had scanned from nearby automobiles—and set out onto the open road.
* * *
Earth, Now
For nearly thirty years he had waited.
He existed, yet at the same time he did not. He thought, therefore he was, yet he could not see, feel, hear, or interact in any way with the physical world. But he knew it was there. Waiting for him to conquer it.
His memory was foggy. A hazy puzzle. So much time had been lost. So much had been wasted. But his time was shortly at hand. He could sense it. Feel it. As soon as he was free from this void of a prison, it would all be made up for.
One thing was certain in his mind. One undeniable fact. Something that no one would ever take away from him.
I am Megatron.
That was the truth.
And soon, he would make them all realize it.
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