Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

--The W.A.P--

    "So how do we want to approach this?" Misfire asked as he and the other Scavengers stood huddled by the entrance ramp. "Guns blazing? Or just surrender?"

    "Quiet, I'm trying to think," Krok snapped, a clicking sound coming from his clenched fist. "We're grossly outnumbered by them, so attack would be suicide...."

    "Feh," Crankcase grunted. "Never did want to live forever?"

    "Our best bet is to probably just surrender," Fulcrum said. "Or, better yet, join them--"

    "Are you crazy?!" Crankcase snapped, slapping Fulcrum upside the head. "Did you forget about that badge on your helmet? We're Decepticons, not petty pirates like them."

    "We're not exactly all that dissimilar," Fulcrum retorted. "We raid, we steal, we loot... only difference is what insignia we wear."

    "Except the Star Seeker are ruthless to each other when it comes to sharing," Krok said. "Those leg motors you need? They would've been gone before you could even lay your optics on them."

    Fulcrum sighed. "So I guess it's death then."

    "Well, fellas, it's been nice knowing you guys," Misfire said as he readied his gun. "Except you, Crankcase. And you, Spinister. And Krok... okay, I really don't give a slag about any of you, but it's been fun, yeah?"

    "Forget you losers," Spinister said, moving to open the ramp. "I'm giving these blokes a piece of--"

    "Spinister, no!" Krok hissed, grabbing the other Decepticon's hand. "You'll get us all killed if you go out there now."

    "Weren't we gonna all die anyway?" Spinister asked.

    "We're not going to die. Help is on the--"

    Before Krok could finish, the ramp lowered itself and the Scavengers were faced with over a dozen Star Seekers, guns pointed at them.

    "So much for that," Crankcase muttered.

    "Relax, guys, I've got this." Misfire started to draw his weapon but Fulcrum stopped him.

    "No, you don't! We have a better chance at escaping than you do of actually hitting them."

    "There are, like, twenty of them," Misfire retorted. "How could I possibly miss?"

    With that, he pulled the trigger of his gun and the shot bounced off of the floor and onto the ceiling, taking out a light fixture. In response, one of the Star Seekers fired a stun bolt, knocking out Misfire.

    "As usual, it's up to me to get things done," Crankcase growled as he flipped out a pair of shoulder launchers. The same Star Seeker took him out before he could use them while another incapacitated Spinister and Krok. Left alone and defenseless, Fulcrum held up his hands as the pirates pointed their weapons at him.

    "Don't shoot!" he pleaded. "I'm unarmed! I'm no threat to you!"

    "You take us for idiots?" the first Star Seeker growled. "I know a K-class body type when I see one. You're literally a walking bomb."

    "No, no, wait! Hear me out! I had my explosives removed--"

    "Right, I'm sure." The pirate aimed his weapon at Fulcrum, smirking mirthlessly. "Nighty-night," he said as he fired the gun.

--The bridge--

    "What did I miss?"

    Stronghorn refrained from sighing as he tuned to the waking Cannonball. "Nothing, sir. Still no sign of the Harbinger."

    "Nothing at all?" Cannonball asked.

    "Well...." Stronghorn hesitated for a moment before continuing. "We did find a Decepticon ship--"

    "You did?" Cannonball nearly launched from his seat, anger crossing his face. "Why didn't you wake me? I should have been informed!"

    "It's of little importance," Stronghorn said. "We're simply raiding it for supplies."

    Cannonball scowled as he sat back down. "If you say so," he grunted. "I'm growing rather tired of this lack of progress."

    "I agree," Stronghorn said. "We could very well be spending eons scouring the galaxy for this ship. And for all we know, it could be crashed on some planet rather than still out in space."

    "Yes," Cannonball muttered. "Decepticon ships do have a tendency to crash."

    "Captain?" A crew member turned in her seat to address Cannonball. "I have Cruellock on the line. He says they've got five Decepticons in stasis lock. What do you want him to do with them?"

    The Star Seeker captain rubbed his chin. He glanced at Stronghorn, who met his gaze, informing him that they were on the same level of thinking. Smirking, Cannonball turned back to the crew member. 

    "Tell him to bring them onto the bridge, Nightwing. I think a round of questioning is in order."

--Space--

    "Any luck yet, Foldspace?"

    "Of course not!" The old Mini-Con snapped at Spacewarp from within her alt mode. "How am I supposed to find a single Decepticon ship out of Primus knows how many?"

    "Just keep scanning for Decepticon spark signals," Spacewarp said as she maneuvered through an asteroid belt. "Most of them would have gone back to Cybertron or New Kaon by now, so if there are any of them out here now--"

    "Wait," Foldspace said. "I'm picking up a ship."

    "Decepticon or Autobot?"

    "Neither. It's alive."

    Spacewarp came to a stop, morphing to her robot mode and landing on a large asteroid. Foldspace deployed from her and perched on her outstretched arm.

    "What do you mean, 'it's alive?'" she asked.

    "I mean it has a spark. The ship has a spark. I detected other spark signatures as well, but the ship has one of its own."

    "Are you sure?"

    The Mini-Con scowled. "You don't believe me?"

    "Your processor has proven to be less than reliable in the past. Where is this ship?"

    "Somes parsecs outside of the field. It's near some planet called... Hydrophena, I believe? Something like that."

    "Well, unless they know where Krok's gone off to, we'll have to past on investigating that little--"

    Before Spacewarp could finish, she heard a voice crackle in her audio sensors via intercom. It sounded gruff and commanding, a combination she found to be a bad sign.

    "Attention, Decepticon! State your business now before I shoot you!"

    Turning around, Spacewarp found three Cybertronians floating before her: an orange mech, from which the voice had originated from; a winged blue and red mech; and a slender red and orange femme. All three had their guns pointed at her.

    "I repeat," the first one said. "State your--"

    "What, is this Autobot turf?" Spacewarp said snappishly. "I don't see your logo anywhere on these rocks."

    "We are not Autobots," the mech retorted. "Well, these two are, but we call ourselves the Cybertronian Knights, warriors of the reformed Circle of Light."

    "The Circle of Light? Isn't that Dai Atlas' crazy lot? I thought you were all huddled on Theophany?"

    "Our city fell to the undead legions of the Chaos Bringer. But we have since begun rebuilding our order, protecting the galaxy from those who seek to do ill will."

    "Ah," Spacewarp said. "Well, luckily for you, I'm not here to do any 'ill-will.' Just going about my merry way through the stars."

    "Decepticons aren't one for merry flights," the blue one grunted.

    "Then you haven't met many Decepticons, hon."

    "Regardless of what you claim your intentions are, we can't let you go until we've cleared you through intergalactic customs," the orange mech said. "All Decepticons not on Cybertron or New Kaon require a special identification chip. Unless you can provide one within the next five seconds...."

    "Identification? Since when was that a thing?"

    "Since the war ended six months ago." The mech and his companions all raised their guns. "And congratulations; you just bought yourself a holding cell on our ship."

    Spacewarp's mind raced. Converting to her alt mode, she attempted to fly away from the trio, but one of them fired at her rear thrusters, sending her spinning in zero gravity. Before she could return to her robot mode, a stun bolt struck her back, sending her into stasis lock....

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

--Sheol Casino, Monacus--

    "People ask me all the time, 'How do you guys get your names?' I mean, who names their protoform 'Skullcruncher', am I right?"

    The green and magenta mech stood before a crowd of hundreds, mainly comprised of organics of all sorts, with one or two robots thrown into the mix. Shifting his microphone stand to his other hand, Skullcruncher went on with his routine.

    "'Well,' I tell them, 'it all depends on how you're born.' See, if you're a Cybertronian and you got forged or constructed cold before the war, your name is one of the first things your brain module processes. It's simply a natural thing, regardless if it's given to you by some divine right or whatever.

    "M.T.O.s, however -- Made-to-Order soldiers, for those of you who don't know -- their names get assigned to them by the commanding officer that thawed them out. For example, there was this one M.T.O., the very moment he thawed out, the very first word out of his mouth was -- you might wanna cover your audio sensors, young ones -- frag."

    Some in the crowd broke into a fit of giggles while others just shook their head.

    "I know, right?" Skullcruncher went on. "And the commander, he's just standing there while his bots are trying to keep from laughing. Then he puts his hand on the M.T.O. and says, 'Welcome to the Decepticon Empire, Swearengine of the Daffodil Invasion.'"

    The entire audience broke out laughing and Skullcruncher grinned, proud of himself. The rest of the routine went smoothly and he left the stage with a huge round of applause. Arriving backstage, he found the casino manager waiting, a huge grin on both of his mouths.

    "You were simply wonderful, Mr. Skullcruncher!" the manager said. "I don't think I've ever heard such hearty laughter that wasn't part of a brawl."

    The Decepticon smirked as he started packing his equipment. "Just living the post-war dream. I admit, this is the biggest audience I've had so far. I can't imagine how even bigger it will be at the Tangean Royal Amphitheater."

    The manager started wringing his hands, frowning now. "Must you leave so soon?"

    "I have to be on Tangea by tomorrow. Why?"

    "Well, it's just that, Lord Gyconi will be visiting the casino next week and the future of our business depends on his satisfaction--"

    "Then I hope you find someone else to make him happy, 'cause it's not gonna be me," Skullcruncher grunted as he slammed his breifcase shut and made for the exit, his leg brushing past the smaller organic.

    "Please, sir, at least reconsider!" the manager pleaded after him. "We'll double your pay! We'll even cover your passport!"

    "Buzz off, fleshling, before I show you why they call me 'Skullcruncher.'"

    With that closing remark, Skullcruncher pushed through the doors and stepped out into Sheoul's streets... where he walked right into another mechanoid. Due to his burly size, he wasn't knocked back that much, but that didn't make him any less angry.

    "Hey, watch it!" he started to snarl, only to do a double take and see who it was.

    "Hey, 'Cruncher," the gray and purple femme said wryly. "Long time no see."

    "Spacewarp?" Skullcruncher replied, his animosity vanishing instantly. "Spark, no kidding. It's been, what, a hundred years?"

    "More or less," Spacewarp replied. "The time goes by so fast when you're out exploring space."

    Skullcruncher chuckled. "I bet. C'mon, the spaceport isn't far from here. Care to join me for a walk?"

    Spacewarp shook her head. "I'm not here to reconnect with you, 'Cruncher. I'm on a job."

    The other Decepticon's face fell. "Oh. Why are you here then?"

    "I'm looking for an old teammate of ours. Remember Krok? The mech with the pet alloygator?"

    "Yeah, I remember him. Think he got demoted to foot soldier after we lost Klo to the Lightning Strike Coalition. Couldn't tell ya' if he's still alive, though."

    "When was the last time you saw him?"

    "Spark, I don't know. Might've run into him during the Rorsha Campaign, but that would've been over three centuries ago."

    Spacewarp stepped closer to Skullcruncher, making the other Decepticon feel uncomfortable. "Come on, 'Cruncher; we're friends, aren't we? There's no need to lie to me."

    "Why would I lie to you?" Skullcruncher asked, growing nervous each second. "I'm serious, I haven't seen Krok in years."

    "Then tell me how he was able to buy a demoleculaization gun off of you last cycle?"

    Skullcruncher's mouth fell agape. "How... how did you know...?"

    "You can thank Foldspace's hacking skills for that. He may be a senile Mini-Con, but he can hack a Shanix account like no one's business. You might want to consider using Cassanian quadrocheques as currency; much more secure."

    Skullcruncher's shoulders slumped. "Okay, you got me. I ran into Krok while preparing for my tour on Scarvix and he offered to buy tech off me. I needed the money to launch my tour, so I sold him my gun. When he left, he made me swear not to tell anyone I saw him."

    "Did he say why?"

    "Nope. And don't ask me where he is now, 'cos I have no clue. I did catch a glimpse of his ship though; a Model 84 Vanguard-class interceptor, painted in purple."

    Spacewarp rubbed her chin. "Interesting. He must be desperate if he's flying a stolen Autobot ship."

    "Yeah, must be." Skullcruncher revved slightly as he said, "So, will that be all? I've gotta be down by the spaceport soon."

    "Yes, 'Cruncher, that will be all. Thank you for your time."

    With that, Spacewarp morphed to her ship mode and took off. Skullcruncher waited until she was gone before taking out his datapad and accessing his banking account from it. A hunch tickled his mind, but he knew it couldn't possibly be true; as shady as she was at times, there was no way Spacewarp would be low enough as to--

    All savings spent, were what the words on the small screen read. 

    Skullcruncher gritted his teeth. "That slagging spawn of--"

--The Weak Anthropic Principle--

    "--Mortilus!" Crankcase swore loudly from the control seat.

    "What is it now?" Krok asked as he walked into the cockpit.

    "We're getting pulled out of hyperspace," Crankcase grumbled, working hastily with the controls.

    Krok's eyes narrowed. "That's not good."

    "Of course it isn't! When is it ever?"

    "It means someone's after us," Krok went on, ignoring the other Scavenger. "Could be the D.J.D., back to finish us off. Maybe the Mutacons, after what Spinister said to them."

     At that moment, the starfield reappeared before the W.A.P. as the ship was pulled out from hyperspace. Before it was a far larger vessel, marked by an insignia unmistakable to anyone with spacefaring experience.

    "Try neither," Crankcase muttered. "Try the Star Seekers."

--The Tidal Wave--

    "Captain?"

    The reptilian navigator of the Star Seekers turned in his seat to face the captain of the ship, who was currently dozing off in his chair. Standing next to him, his first mate Stronghorn shook Cannonball lightly in an attempt to rouse him. When that failed, Stronghorn answered the navigator himself.

    "What is it?" he growled.

    "We've pulled a ship out of hyperspace. It's Decepticon-aligned, but it appears to be an Autobot model."

    "It's probably not the one we're looking for then," Stronghorn said. "Just let it go."

    "Are you sure about that?" asked Backslash, the ship's pilot. "It's been a while since we've raided anything and we're a bit low on supplies."

    "We'll get our supplies as soon as we get what we're after."

    "But what if there's something of even more value on that ship?" Backslash asked. "We could be missing something of great opportunity."

    Stronghorn scowled as he mulled over this. Finally, he said, "Fine. Bring them aboard."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

--Centauri I--

    "Can we all agree that this was a huge mistake?"

    Craning his head from where he hung upside down, Crankcase scowled at Misfire. "Only if we can all agree to kill you if we get out of this mess alive."

     Misfire rolled his optics. "Sheesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the recharge slab."

    "Actually, Misfire, I'd say Crankcase is justified in his attitude," Krok said, dangling behind Misfire with Fulcrum and Spinister. "Of all the times to botch up the universal greeting, you had to do it with a race of aliens that eat robots."

    "I did not botch it up! They just don't respect my Pretendian accent."

    "Accent's got nothing to do with it!" Crankcase snapped. "You don't put the 'weep' before the 'bah' and you most certainly don't put the 'ni ni' after the 'bong!'"

    "What difference does it make?"

    "It makes all the difference, you virus-ladden, slag-swimming--"

    "Quiet, guys," Fulcrum hissed. "We've got company."

    From the village that laid up ahead, a crowd of native Centaurians approached the wood-made contraption from which the five Scavengers were being hung by their feet. In the lead was a Centaurian draped in regal robes that covered him head-to-toe. Two servants trailed after him holding the edges of his cloak so it did not lose its pristine look to the trail of slime its wearer left behind.

    As the slug-like aliens came to a stop, a Centaurian decked in armor slithered forward and held out a scroll. He said something in his race's native tongue before rolling it up and looking at the captured Decepticons.

    "Cyber-tro-nians," he said in the Basic dialect, albeit badly enunciating the words. "As ah vee-oh-lation oof code ahk-crek-bahk oof dah Creeon Ah-kord, yoo arr to bee devoured as is arr hol-ee right."

    "Um, I didn't quite catch all of that," Misfire said. "Anyone care to paraphrase?"

    "We broke their law, so they're going to eat us," Krok said flatly.

    "Ah, thank you."

    The regal Centaurian came up to the five Scavengers and sprinkled each of them with some sort of green liquid. He then turned to the crowd and splayed his arms, shouting something in his people's tongue. They responded with cheers and hollers.

    "Anyone care to translate that?" Misfire asked.

    "I think they're ready to eat us," Fulcrum murmured.

    "Ah, I see."

    Fulcrum shot him a look. "You seem eerily calm about all this."

    "That's because I've got everything under control."

    As he said this, Misfire moved slightly so that Fulcrum could see what he was concealing in his bound hands, out of the Centaurians' sight: a handgun.

    Fulcrum's optics dilated. If their deaths weren't already assured, they definitely were now.

    The leader Centaurian then turned back to them and, in unison with the others, opened his mouth to reveal a frightening row of razor-sharp teeth. They started to approach the Scavengers, hunger in their eyes.

    Seeing Misfire already having trouble with his gun, Fulcrum simply closed his optics and got ready for the end. A gunshot went off, brushing past his face. Then he heard a scream... although it didn't sound like either one of the Scavengers.

    Opening one optic, Fulcrum saw that the leader Centaurian was the one howling a pain, a scorching wound in his chest. As the other Centaurians rushed to his aid, Fulcrum glanced at Misfire.

    "Congrats. You actually managed to hit something."

    "Er, that wasn't me," Misfire muttered.

    Before Fulcrum knew it, he was on the ground, the rope around his legs having been sliced by a rotor blade. He then looked up to see Spinister freeing Misfire, Krok, and Crankcase from their entrapped positions.

    "Spinister?" Fulcrum said incredulously. "How did you--?"

    "You guys are total wimps," Spinister grunted. "All you had to do was slide or fold your hands away to get the rope off."

    "Well, we don't all have the same transformation scheme," Krok said as he pulled his bindings off. "Now let's go before--"

    A holler of rage interrupted him and the five Decepticons turned to see the armored Centaurian brandishing his spear, with a dozen others doing the same.

    "Before that."

    "And that, my friends, is why Adaptus gave us the transformation cog," Crankcase said as he converted to his van mode and drove off. Spinister and Misfire followed suit, leaving Krok and Fulcrum to run on foot.

    "Of all the times to become a born-again monoformer," Krok muttered.

    Fulcrum simply sighed wistfully. As far as he was concerned, today was just another day of being a Scavenger.

*  *  *

    "I told you guys I had everything under control," Misfire said as soon as he and the others were back on their ship, the Weak Anthropic Principle.

    "Misfire, you have a better chance at finding a cure for cybercrosis than you do at hitting the broad side of Broadside," Crankcase retorted. "The fact that Spinister could hit his target should say a lot."

    "Well, somebody's cranky today," Misfire said with a scoff. "One day you'll be thanking me for saving your metal hide; mark my words."

    "I'm gonna mark your forehead with a blaster if you don't--"

    "Both of you, shut up!" Krok snapped, closing the ship's hatch behind him and Fulcrum. "Crankcase, get us the frag out of here!"

    The former Triggercon quickly went for the cockpit and in seconds they were taking off, leaving a horde of angry Centaurians behind them.

    Once they were out in the clear and jumping to lightspeed, Fulcrum dropped to the floor and slumped against the wall. "I think I busted a leg motor back there. I don't think I'll be able to run like that ever again."

    "I'll search the navigation grid for any scrapyards in the sector," Krok said. "We're dangerously close to Galactic Council territory though. We'll have to tread carefully."

    "Just remember to avoid Constancy at all costs," Fulcrum muttered. "Misfire probably earned us all death sentences when we last went there."

    Misfire threw his arms up in the air. "So I got the munchies! Excuse me for being Cybertronian."

    "Don't expect the Galactic Council to do so," Krok said. "They might just us it as justification for killing you."

    Misfire grumbled to himself before planting himself down next to Fulcrum. While Krok left to study the navgrid and Spinister counted the rivets on the ceiling, Misfire decided to pass the time by pestering the skinnier Decepticon.

    "Wanna see something cool?" he said three times until Fulcrum finally answered him with a sigh.

    "The last time you showed me something 'cool', it was a Sharkticon that nearly bit my head off," he said bitterly.

    "Don't worry, this won't bite; it's not even alive." From a compartment, Misfire drew out a transformation cog and presented it to Fulcrum.

    "How is that cool?" Fulcrum asked. "It's just a t-cog."

    Misfire grinned wickedly. "It may seem like that, but there's a lot more to it than meets the eye."

    "I swear, if you throw it at me--"

    "Relax, I wouldn't make it that obvious." Bringing out the gun he had earlier, Misfire held it up to the t-cog and, before Fulcrum's eyes, the gun morphed into a spanner wrench.

    Fulcrum's mouth fell agape as he stared in awe. "What... where did you get that?"

    "I found it while we were on Neutronia." Misfire suddenly lowered his voice, looking shifty-eyed. "Don't tell the others, though. This is our little secret, yeah?"

    Fulcrum merely rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Transformers Regenerated: Scavengers, Prologue

Sorry for the hiatus. I'm back.

TRANSFORMERS REGENERATED

Scavengers: A Regenerated Interlude

PROLOGUE

    Spacewarp hated waiting.

    It wasn't necessarily a matter of patience -- she had plenty when the situation called for it. But what she hated the most about it was being forced to stay in one place.

    She strove for variety. That's why she had no home other than the stars. She lived for exploring the unexplored, for visiting alien worlds and charting undiscovered systems. To be forced to sit in one place in a non-descriptive waiting room was nothing but pure torture for her.

    She glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Five hours had passed since she got here. To her, it might as well have been five decades (and on some planets it might have been. One of the many things she had learned in her travels was that time was relative.)

    Her optics then moved to the door she was anxiously waiting to open. Whoever was in there now had better have a good reason for taking so much time; otherwise, they were going to meet a trusted friend of hers, which she brought with her everywhere she went.

    Another twenty minutes passed before the door finally opened and a Skuxxoid came flying out. Behind him was a burly, dull gray mechanoid was glowering at the porcine alien before giving him a nice swift kick to the rear. He then moved his optical sensors to Spacewarp.

    "Omega Trion will see you now."

    "Finally," Spacewarp muttered as she got up to her feet. Stepping into the next room, she adjusted her optics to the sudden lack of light; only a red hanging lantern provided illumination, and even then, it failed to show any of the mech sitting before her other than his red optics.

    "I apologize for the wait," Omega Trion said, although he sounded anything but apologetic. "Skuxxoids are a persistent sort."

    "Tell me about it," Spacewarp grunted. "Now cut to the chase; what's the 'big scoop' you say you picked up?"

    "Ah, ah, ah. Payment up front."

    Spacewarp scowled beneath her faceplate as she dropped a few coins of Shanix onto the desk. "This had better be good."

    "When have my findings been anything but satisfactory?" Omega Trion replied. "Now then, tell me: how knowledgeable are you of Cybertronian myths?"

    "I've heard some names and terms tossed around -- the Guiding Hand, Shokaract, Unicron--"

    "What about the Thirteen?"

    "Yeah, I've heard of them. Doesn't seem like they were much more than glorified Primes -- bots who let all the power they held get to their head."

    "You can believe what you want," Omega Trion said. "But one can't deny the value of the artifacts they've left behind. Whether or not there's anything actually 'magic' or 'omnipotent' about them, I know quite a few people who would kill to get their hands on them."

    "Let me guess: you've located one of these artifacts."

    Omega Trion chuckled. "You catch on quickly. Yes, my spies have managed to track one down, and I require your expertise to recover it."

    "How much are you offering for this to be done?"

    "Well, the relic itself is worth over ten million Shanix. If you manage to bring it to me without any damage done to it, I'll give you half the amount... plus a hundred extra if you manage to retrieve it within forty-eight hours of leaving here."

    "Sounds good. And where is it exactly that I'm going?"

    "Ah, that's the tricky part," Omega Trion said with another laugh. "It's in the hands of five spacefaring Decepticons. They were last seen at Scarvix, but they may very well be halfway across the galaxy by now."

    "Ah." Spacewarp was less than enthused by the thought of encountering any of her so-called comrades. "Anything I should know about them?"

    "I wasn't able to get much info from Banzai-Tron. But what he was willing to tell me was more than enough."

    "And what would that be?"

    "That they are the five worst Decepticons you could possibly find."

Scavengers, or:

"How Not To Be a Decepticon"

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light V, Epilogue

EDITED 1/19/2021 Removed Over-Run from the final scene; since he hasn't turned up since and I don't plan on bringing him back.

EPILOGUE

--The Lost Light, Swerve's--

    "You look like you could use a drink."

    "Actually, Swerve, what I could use is a planet-sized jug of engex to make up for the day I just had," Skids said as he took a seat at the bar counter. "But I don't suppose you have one those."

    "'Fraid not." Swerve scowled. "What I do have is a fanboy clingier than an energy leech. I swear, that Clutch fellow is following me everywhere I go, either wanting some sort of impromptu interview or taking my picture with Sprocket's camera."

    "I would think you'd be flattered by that sort of thing."

    "I would! I totally would be if it wasn't so fraggin' creepy! I mean, he even knows what spark-type I am! That's something only I and doctors should know."

    "Ask Ultra Magnus to give him a restraining order then," Skids suggested. "Or have Red Alert install security cams in your hab suite, or something."

    "Believe me, I've tried," Swerve muttered. "But you tell me: when has anyone taken me seriously?"

    "Point taken," Skids admitted. After giving Swerve his order, he started looking around the bar, searching for familiar faces. Getaway was sitting nearby with Tailgate and Pipes, Whirl was in an arm-wrestling match with Brawn, and Windblade was speaking with Nightbeat. From the looks of it, it appeared everyone had recovered just fine from what had taken place at Garrus-16.

    Well, almost everyone. Ariel was still under Rung's care, as would Fortress Maximus once Ratchet and the medics had fixed him up. And then there was Nautica....

    As soon as Swerve returned with his drink, Skids got to his feet. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. There's someone I need to see."

    "Hey, no problem," Swerve said. "Your engex will still be here when you get back."

    Skids nodded his thanks before leaving the bar. As soon as he was gone, Swerve slid the drink over to Trailbreaker, passed out on Nightmare Fuel.

    "Like I'm letting good fuel go to waste."

*  *  *

    "Nautica?" Skids gently rapped his fist on the hab suite door. "It's me, Skids. Can I come in?"

    A few silent minutes ticked by. Then, the door slid open, revealing an impassive-looking Nautica, her optics no longer filled with the brightness they usually showed.

    "What do you want?" she asked coolly.

    "I wanted to talk to you -- about the data slug Viral gave you."

    Nautica said nothing at first. Then, she stepped aside and motioned him to enter. As Skids walked into the hab suite, he noticed it was completely devoid of any personal belongings save for two hologram projectors: one which showed her, Windblade, and Chromia, and the other which was switched off.

    Once Skids had found something to sit on, Nautica sighed as she picked up the data slug, which had been lying on a table. "It's my fault he's gone," she finally said quietly.

    "What do you mean?" Skids asked. "Who's gone?"

    "Brainstorm," she murmured. "When I found out he was a Decepticon, I practically ignored everything else he had told me -- about his intentions for trying to change the universe. I never once stopped to think about what mattered the most."

    "You're losing me here."

    Nautica turned to look at him. "Tell me: what's the one thing that we benefited from the war, from Megatron's rise to power? What's the one thing some 'bots like Riptide or Getaway owe to him?"

    Those two names jogged something in Skids' memory. "He was an M.T.O.?"

    Nautica nodded. "He was one of the first Made-To-Order soldiers, built on Optronix's command when he led a campaign against the Destructons a century before the war. Back then he was called Genitus; 'Brainstorm' was a nickname he earned for his intellect."

    "So... how does this change things exactly?"

    Nautica closed her eyes as she pinched the rim of her helmet. "If Megatron -- or Optronix, rather -- had never been built, then neither would Brainstorm. He was willing to erase himself from existence to preserve the life of the bot he loved -- and those of billions across the universe."

    "And now you feel lousy for being mad at him?"

    "Exactly." She crossed her arms and let out another sigh. "And now he's gone, because I made him feel unaccepted here."

    "How?" Skids asked. "I mean, the trial went in his favor and he was allowed to stay on board. And even knowing what would have become of Earth in the Megatron-less future, some of us were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for wanting to save so many lives."

    Nautica looked away from him, a solemn look in her optics. "He wasn't looking for favor from you or anyone else... but from me."

    Skids tilted his head. "Did he say that in his message?"

    She nodded. "He... he said I was one of only two people who understood him, who thought the way he did -- well, maybe not exactly, but...."

    "He care for you, didn't he?"

    "That's what he said," she said quietly. "To be honest, I had never got the impression he did... but maybe that was deliberate. Maybe he was afraid of getting too attached in case he lost me like he did Quark."

    "And what about you? Do you feel the same way?"

    "I don't know," Nautica said, shaking her head. "I don't know what to think anymore. Who else is on board with a Decepticon symbol hidden under their armor plating or with a time machine on their hands. We never had these sort of things on Caminus."

    "You're from Caminus? I always thought you were from Cybertron."

    She shook her head again. "I was forged there and didn't leave until thirteen hundred years ago, when Windblade, Chromia, and I volunteered to join a visiting Thunderclash's crew."

    "Do you ever wish you had stayed behind?" Skids asked quietly. "That you had never went to Cybertron and met any of us?"

    "When you say it like that, it feels like you're trying to guilt me into saying 'no.'"

    "Hey, I won't give you any flak for it. Just be honest."

    Nautica was silent as she looked at the holo with her and the other two femmes. Then, in a voice as low as a whisper, she said, "No. Not at all."

--Talrus--

    Viral trudged through the rocky plains of Talrus, the rising moon beaming down on him. The servo motors in his legs were starting to slow down and grind; in a few minutes, he was going to give out and become completely immobile.

    He wish it hadn't have to come to this. He wish he had never come back online after being knocked out by that sonic scream. Maybe then he would no longer have to suffer this fate called life.

    But if Primus truly existed, then he had no love for his children. If something such as the Afterspark truly existed, then he was not wanted there. He was forever condemned to this living chaos.

    The sound of crunching pebbles brought Viral to a stop. The sound continued for a minute before a large shadow fell over him.

    "Hello again," a familiar voice hissed softly. "Fancy seeing you here at this time of night."

    "Overlord." Viral let out a sigh. "Just get it over with. I'm sick of playing this game."

    "Oh, but I'm not. For the stunt you pulled, you deserve a nice, prolonged death." The roar of a chainsaw filled Viral's audio sensors. "Which limb shall I start with, hm? How about the right arm -- that seems like a good choice."

    Viral saw the shadow of the chainsaw rise over his own, pointed directly at his right shoulder. Seeing his only chance, he dived in and took it.

    He stepped to the right.

*  *  *

    The sole remaining online Autobot on Talrus let out a huff as he dropped the offline Skyfall onto the ground. Rubbing his helmet crest, he looked up towards the moon-lit sky.

    The Lost Light was long gone. Gigatron and the other Decepticons had gone off to parts unknown. The only hope he had to get off-planet was the emergency signal he had been broadcasting for the past few hours, hoping that some wandering Autobot ship would get it.

    The sudden sight of a large, white and blue vessel appearing in the dark sky and heading towards his position was enough assurance for him.

    With a smile, Pharma picked up the two offline Autobots and headed for the landing point.

LEFT TO THEIR OWN DEVICES: CONCLUDED

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light V, Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

--Garrus-16--

    It was at times like these that Skids wish he had a backup plan -- or any sort of backup.

    True, he had taken on things bigger than these Decepticons, such as Tyrest's Legislators -- but those things had lacked brain modules. These bots, on the other hand, knew what they were doing and had everything coordinated.

    As Skids performed a backflip to avoid a charging Buffaloid, he was suddenly pouunded on in midair by a toad-like Amphiboid. As the frog Decepticon had him pinned down, a quilled porcupine-type bot came forward holding some sort of syringe. Before he could inject it into Skids, Ratchet lunged at the brown Decepticon and socked him in the face. Distracted by this, the Amphiboid loosened his hold on Skids, allowing the Autobot to push him away.

    Just as he got back to his feet, Skids saw a large, primate-like mech charging towards him, smashing the floor with his massive fists. Jumping to the side, Skids narrowly dodged the brute's swinging arm and launched a flurry of missiles as the Decepticon. Although they didn't bring him down, it was enough the stall the 'Con, buying Skids enough time to grab the porcupinebot's syringe-quill and hurl it at the brute.

    The results weren't quite what Skids had been expecting. While the quill succeeded in halting the Decepticon's assault, it did so by inexplicably rendering him into a simpering mess, making sounds and gestures usually found in very primitive species.

    Before Skids could marvel at this, a tentacle suddenly wrapped around him from behind and he soon found himself being hoisted up in the air. Looking to his left, he saw that Ratchet was similarly encoiled.

    While the octopus-like Decepticon had them ensnared, Overlord walked up to the two Autobots with a humorless smirk. "That was fun while it lasted. It's a shame you two lost so easily; it was just starting to get interesting."

    He then motioned to a nearby Skunkticon, who handed him a chainsaw. "Now then," he said as it roared to life, "I believe it is time we ended our little game. You two can sit back and relax while I kill your comrades. Then, we can draw energon sticks to decide which one of you dies next. Does that sound good to you?"

    "No."

    The response had not come from Skids or Ratchet, but rather from Ariel, who had been hiding in a corner throughout the entire conflict. The defiant look in her optics would have looked convincing were it not for her shaking body.

    Turning to face her, Overlord let out a mirthless chuckle. "Oh, now this is just precious. The little one thinks she can take on a dozen Decepticons, all twice her size. It's like a Mini-Con trying to pick a fight with a Titan."

    Ariel's optics narrowed as she clenched her trembling hands. "No hurt friends."

    "Oh, I'm going to hurt them all right. And you're going to have the honor of watching it all up close and personal."

    "I said...." Ariel opened her mouth and Skids could see a pinprick of blue light glowing withing, growing larger by the second. "No -- hurt -- friends!"

    She screamed the last word and that was the last Skids heard before a sonic scream assaulted his audio sensors and turned his vision white.

--The Lost Light--

    "Sweet motherboard of Primus, what is going on?!"

    Blaster had taken the words straight out of everyone's mouths as everyone on the bridge stared in astonishment at the light show going on down below. Mainframe zoomed in on the spectacle and they all watched as Garrus-16 was shredded apart by an invisible force.

    Noticing that Blaster had suddenly clamped his hands over his audio receptors, Ultra Magnus asked him, "What's wrong?"

    "I'm picking up this... massive frequency," Blaster said through gritted teeth. "I think it's some sort of... sonic bomb that's tearing that place apart."

    Ultra Magnus frowned as he looked back down at the prison facility. "Bring us down," he eventually said to Mainframe.

    "Are you sure?" the pilot asked. "I mean, if both Rodimus and Drift are gone, then--"

    "I said bring us down."

    The sharpness in Magnus' tone was enough to get Mainframe to obey as he piloted the ship towards Talrus' surface, prepared for whatever they would find.

--Garrus-16--

    Drift groaned as he came back to his senses. Static roared in his ears and his optics were taking their own sweet time to readjust from the blinding light they had just experienced. Once his motor systems had returned to him, he clumsily got back to his feet, at which point his vision finally cleared.

    What he saw next almost made him wish he had stayed asleep.

    The mech standing before him had to be at least the size of Ultra Magnus, maybe even bigger. Adorned in rusted yellow and teal armor plating, his scarred and pitted chassis indicated that he had seen his fair share of destruction, and no doubt had a number of casualties on his hand. The visible Decepticon insignia on his chest was Drift's final incentive to draw his sword.

    However, the massive Decepticon did not seem to even notice him, his gaze focused on the sky instead. With glowing red optics, the mech uttered a single word:

    "Shockwave."

    And with that, he was gone in a flash of light.

    Before Drift had time to process what had just happened, he heard Hound call his name. As he turned around, he realized that something was off; he didn't recall his feet being on the ground earlier. Than he looked back up.

    "What the spark just happened?" Drift exclaimed as he looked upon the wreckage which used to be Garrus-16. The facility had been all but torn apart, shredded to the point of non-recognition.

    "Believe me, I've been wondering the same thing," Hound said as he rushed up to Drift. "But that's besides the point; Rewind says he's spotted Rodimus and the others... they're with Overlord."

    "Overlord? You mean Caldoon-4 Overlord?"

    Hound nodded. "It looks like he's been knocked out, so if we hurry--"

    Drift did not need to hear anymore, already running as fast as he could for his fellow comrades.

*  *  *

    Skids could not believe he was alive. Of course, he had found himself feeling that way at more than one point in his life, but this time, what with the destroyed facility and unconscious Decepticons all around, he found it very much a miracle that he was still functioning.

    The next thing his mind went to was Ariel. Seeing the young femme laying amidst a pile of rubble, he rushed over to her and started inspecting her damaged body. To his relief, she was still alive, albeit barely. If he didn't get her to a medibay soon, he wasn't sure how much longer she would have.

    As he gently picked her up in his arms, he turned around to see Ratchet getting back up as well. Rodimus and others were also waking up, now free from their entrapments thanks to the blast Ariel had unleashed.

    "That... was a dream I never want to have again," Rodimus muttered.

    "Be grateful that it was just a dream," Skids said dryly. "I just lived through a nightmare -- it's a wonder I'm even still alive."

    "I'll say," Nautica murmured, looking at the wreckage surrounding them all. "What just happened?"

    "And here I was about to ask the same thing."

    Everyone turned to see Drift rushing up to them, followed closely by Hound, Chromedome, and others. "What could have caused this much damage and yet not any casualties?" Drift asked.

    "If I had to wager a guess: a sonic scream." Skids nodded at the unconscious Ariel in his arms. "I don't know the exact science of it, but my theory is that she unleashed a sound wave strong enough to tear down walls but not Cybertronians. But I'm no Perceptor or Brainstorm."

    "Speaking of which," Getaway said as he looked around. "Where is Brainstorm?"

    "Search me. I didn't see him when I woke up, and I didn't run into him at any point."

    "Wait, I see someone," Hound said, pointing at two figures stumbling towards them through the wreckage. "Neither of them look like Brainstorm though...."

    Without warning, Getaway suddenly got to his feet and charged towards the two newcomers, one of which Skids realized was Viral.

    "You slag-licking backstabber!" Getaway exclaimed as he reached Viral and delivered a punch into the Decepticon's visor. "Turning on us like that... I ought to turn you into a heaping pile of scrap!"

    "Oh, don't tell me you've never been used by your superiors," Viral said coldly. "But before you take out your frustration out on me, shouldn't you get your friend here some medical attention?"

    Getaway looked at the other mech with Viral, realizing that he was relying on the Decepticon for physical support. "Wait... Fortress Maximus? It's Fortress Maximus, right?"

    "Don't expect him to answer you; he's been tortured and traumatized to the point of muteness. He was only of any use when your scientist had a remote control on him."

    "Our scientist?" Rodimus repeated. "You mean Brainstorm? Have you seen him? Where is he?"

    "I saw him a minute ago, just before I came to you." With his free hand, Viral produced what appeared to be a data slug. "All he told me was to give this to someone named Nautica."

    "Me?" Nautica stepped forward and tentatively took the data slug from Viral. "Do... do you know why he wouldn't give it to me in person?"

    "No, and I honestly couldn't care less." Viral let go of Fortress Maximus and Rodimus and Drift rushed over to support him themselves. "I've done my part. Now, what is it going to be? Are you going to let me free, or are you going to make me a prisoner again?"

    Rodimus gave Viral a long and careful look. Finally, he said, "Magnus is probably going to lecture me for this, but I'm going to let you go. If you cross any lines, I'm sure there'll be other Autobots out there to deal with you."

    "And what about the other Decepticons?" Skids asked. "Are we just going to let them go free?"

    "Same case scenario; it's not our job to serve as Decepticon wranglers. We have a quest on our hands, after all. We'll just send Cybertron a message and ask them to deal with it."

    Windblade frowned at this. "You're taking a big risk, leaving 'Cons like Overlord and Gigatron at large."

    "We'd be taking an even greater risk keeping them on board," Rodimus replied. "Come on; let's get back to the Rodpod -- provided it hasn't been destroyed."

    "Wait," Skids said. "Earlier I ran into three other Autobots: Kick-Off, Skyfall, and Over-Run. We should find them and take them with us."

    "Kick-Off is most likely dead," Viral said quietly. "I... saw him take a blade to the abdomen. The sonic blast might very well have taken him offline."

    "And the other two?"

    "I wouldn't keep my hopes up. If they haven't rejoined us by now, then odds are they both met their fates."

    "Then we're probably wasting our time staying here any longer," Ratchet said. "Let's get going."

    "Right." Turning back to Viral, Rodimus gave the Decepticon a parting nod. "Thank you for your help."

    "I do not need your thanks," Viral said sharply. "But... I accept it, nonetheless."

    "Enjoy it while you can," Getaway said darkly. "'Cos you're not gonna get any from me."

    Viral tilted his head at him. "I'd watch where you step, Autobot. You never know what will kill you."

    "All right, enough with the banter," Rodimus said, already headed for the Rodpod with Drift and Fortress Maximus. "It's by time we got off this rock."

Transformers Regenerated: Lost Light V, Chapter Eight

EDITED 6/13/2018 Reworked some of Viral's speech to patch a continuity conflict with the previous part.

CHAPTER EIGHT

--Garrus-16, outside--

    "I don't mean to freak anyone out," Hound said as he and the others stood atop the prison facility. "But according to this scanner, we're standing directly over the source of the energy reading."

    "I've found a hatch nearby," Rewind said. "So whenever you guys are--"

    "Hold it," Trailbreaker said, getting down and pressing audio sensor against the roof. "I hear noises. Bad noises."

    "Please be more specific," Drift said exasperatedly. 

    "I hear a voice -- a big, deep, growling voice -- and it's saying something over and over."

    "Can you just tell us already?" Riptide snapped. "I hate it when people act all vague and cryptic."

    "I'm sorry, it's too muffled. Can't make it out." Trailbreaker got back to his feet and looked at Drift. "What do you think? Do we take the risk or just go in the other way?"

    "You do realize that with each second we waste here, the more likely it is that Rodimus and the others are dead by now," Cyclonus said pointedly. "I'm not disapproving, mind you, but I thought you Autobots were more willing to risk your lives than this."

    "He has a point," Chromedome said, disgruntled. "By killing time, we could be killing Rodimus and the others. We have to make a choice, and fast."

    The group of eight were silent for a moment. Then, with a shrug of the shoulders, Trailbreaker said, "Blame it on the Nightmare Fuel, but I say we go into the attic. YOLO."

    "'Yo-lo?'" Riptide asked.

    "You only live once. Human phrase."

    "Ah. In no way is that reassuring."

    "I don't think it was supposed to." Walking over to the hatch, Trailbreaker opened it and turned to the others. "So who's with me?"

    The others looked at each other for a moment before, with some reluctance on Riptide's part, following Trailbreaker into the attic.

--Inside--

    "Wait just a spark-slaggin' second," Skids said, which was pretty much the only thing he could do now that he, Ratchet, and Ariel were surrounded by Decepticons. "Do you mean to tell me that 'Tap-Out' had been a 'Con all along -- even when we first encountered him?"

    Overlord chuckled. "We needed something to distract you with, to keep you all in one place. Otherwise, Viral would not have been able to play his part."

    "But the message... Tap-Out said he had been trying to warn us away from here."

    "The original Tap-Out, yes. When we found out about his transmissions, we decided to use it to our advantage, resending them after breaking them up enough to lure you here."A sadistic grin crossed the Decepticon's face. "A lovely tribute to his memory, wouldn't you agree?"

    Skids scowled as he racked his mind for an escape plan. Unlike the three he had defeated earlier, the Decepticons Overlord had brought with him were nothing short of intimidating. Resembling fearsome creatures from Buffaloids to Sharkticons, Skids knew that they would be more than enough of a challenge for him, especially when Ratchet and Ariel were unarmed.

    "Well?" Overlord said, bringing Skids' attention back to him. "Any last quips before you die?"

    "Quip this."

    Aiming his guns, Skids fired them at Overlord, only to see the plasma pellets bounce off of him harmlessly.

    "Adorable." With a raise of his hand, Overlord's Decepticons bared their claws and weapons. "My turn now."

*  *  *

    "Your inaction speaks volumes, Viral," the floating hand that was Gigatron said, tightening its deadly grip on Kick-Off. "Do you not care for the life of this Autobot?"

    "Why would I?" Viral asked. "His life means nothing to me."

    A dark laugh emitted from the hand as Kick-Off's chassis strained against its pressing fingers."Of course it doesn't. No one's life matters to you, Viral. You are the genesis of what the likes of Megatron and Shockwave ended up being: you care for nothing in the world but power, and everyone is merely your pawn -- a tool to get what you want.

    "And you know what? I can respect that. I see myself in you. You have the makings of a great Decepticon. With the right amount of ambition and intelligence, you could have all the power in the universe."

    "Except power isn't what I want," Viral muttered.

    "Then what? Why else would you play Windtrail to betray Shockwave? What else were you planning to do with a fleet of dreadnoughts if not to conquer Cybertron?"

    "Because it was never about betraying Shockwave. It was about impressing him."

    At this, Gigatron lessened his grip on Kick-Off, who managed a bemused look at Viral. "What?" the warlord said.

    "Out of all the students at the Academy of Advanced Technologies, I was perhaps the least popular," Viral went on. "My abilities as an outlier were looked over in favor of someone with similar powers over electricity and I was expected to simply follow his lead. I was always in somebody's shadow, whether it be Shockwave's or Damus'.

    "I only joined the Decepticons because it was the only place I could find a sense of belonging. When I found out that Shockwave had joined, I once again made fruitless attempts to gain favor from him. But the only time he noticed me was when he needed cannon fodder for Windtrail's endeavor. It was by then that I had had enough of being ignored and hijacked the operation so that Shockwave would at last acknowledge me."

    "I see," Gigatron murmured. "Such a pity. I had expected great things from you, Viral. But it would appear you are not the prospective Decepticon I had hoped you to be. Tell me, have you gained anything from telling me your life story?"

    "As it happens, yes," Viral said. "I bought myself some time."

    Before Gigatron had time to react, a blaster shot struck his giant hand form, causing him to release Kick-Off as he growled in pain. The warlord then took on the appearance of a two-headed dragon, pinning the Autobot down while his dual heads roared furiously. 

    "Who dares fire on Gigatron? Who dares trifle with the Dark God of Destruction?"

    "I do."

    Stumbling into the room, his body covered in patchworks and exposed exoskeleton, was Fortress Maximus. Two giant guns were in his hands and his crimson optics glowed cold and empty.

    "Wh--what?" Gigatron stuttered. "How... how could this be? How are you still functioning?"

    "See, this is what bugs me." Noticing that Maximus' mouth wasn't moving, Viral realized that the voice belonged to the Autobot Brainstorm, standing out of sight. "I can get people not trusting me for 'switching sides.' I can understand it if they hate me for nearly destroying the universe just because I lost someone I loved. But if for one second someone underestimates my genius...."

    Fortress Maximus raised both of his guns and fired them at Gigatron, sending the dragon sprawling back.

    "Then there will be Chaos to pay."

    Gigatron growled as he got back up, now in robot mode. Baring his claws, he lunged at Fortress Maximus, who shielded himself with his arms. As the warlord proceeded to claw at the Autobot, Viral turned back to the computer stations and started what he had set out to do.

    As he went through the security footage in search of the prison blocks, he landed on one transmitting from a room he had not been aware of: an attic, home to a single Cybertronian lifeform. However, it was no ordinary Cybertronian, and just who exactly it was left him staring at the screen, horrified beyond belief.

    He hungers....

    "Hey, what are you waiting for, 'Con?" Kick-Off said from behind him, back on his feet. "Get the frikkin' cells open!"

    Thinks himself as the reincarnation of an Animatronian figure....

    "You know what? Just let me do it." Kick-Off stepped forward and pushed Viral aside.

    Dark God of Destruction....

    Kick-Off's hands moved towards the controls to the cells... only to stop midway towards them. After taking a few minutes to process what had just happened, the Autobot looked down at the energon-drenched blade-like arm jutting from his midsection. He then looked at Viral, coughing up energon which splattered across the Decepticon's visor.

    "Frag... you...."

    Viral said nothing as he extracted his arm, letting Kick-Off's body crumple to the floor. Then, turning towards Gigatron -- still preoccupied with Fortress Maximus -- he made his move.

    This may very well end in tears, Viral thought as he lunged for Gigatron's back. But I never had anything to lose anyway.

    He landed onto the oblivious warlord... and then the world went white.