Alien
Saga, Chapter 5: The Last Memories
By: Beastbot
“Good night, Astroulas. See you in the morning.”
“Duh, yeah, boss. Good night.”
Astroulas transformed to his vehicle mode- an unidentifiable type of spacecraft- and sped off toward his home.
As he sped through the streets of Cybertropolis to his home, Astroulas had very little to think about in his simple mind. His mind was mostly a blank, the only thought in it about going to bed. All Astroulas ever did was go to work, come home, eat a little energon, and then go to sleep. While most creatures would find this life repetitive and boring, Astroulas was too simple-minded to realize this, and did his work almost as mindlessly as the Beast Warrior Scavenger.
Finally, after about twenty minutes of traveling, Astroulas arrived at his home. That is, if you could call it that. Astroulas made very little money in his line of work, and that which he did make he invested poorly. His “house” was little more than a metal shack in the alley of one of the slum areas of Cybertropolis.
Oblivious to his filthy surroundings, Astroulas got comfortable in his bed and was just about to shut his optics-
-when he heard a soft “thunk” on his roof.
First he thought it was rain. No, there wasn’t any rain on Cybertron. Then maybe it was…
Astroulas didn’t have time to finish the thought as some type of black goo quickly enveloped him, and his vision blacked out.
Taran examined his new body. He transformed into his alternate mode, just to see what it would look like. It didn’t look like anything- just some type of spacecraft. He transformed back.
“Excellent!” Taran snickered. “Now Tarad will never find me, and I can carry out my plan with these Transformers! Every Vexoran thinks I’m dead! BWAHAHAHAHA!”
Taran’s laugh echoed out of the small shack he was in and into the alleys of Cybertropolis.
“YOU did this!” Depth Charge yelled, charging at Protoform X amidst the flaming wreckage of the former colony Omicron.
“Oooh, a very clever one you are,” X replied, leveling his cannon at Depth Charge. “A pity you must die.”
Protoform X wordlessly fired his triple-barrel cannon twice, Depth Charge just barely managing to dodge the blasts.
“You’re gonna hafta to do better than that if you want to beat me, pal,” Depth Charge replied.
“Fine,” X said, his face cracked into a mischievious grin (or, at least, the closest he could get to it). He pointed his barrel cannon at the downed form of Claw Clash. “Surrender or the shrimp goes offline- permanently.”
Depth Charge widened his eyes in surprise, then narrowed them in anger. His eyes darted around quickly, seeing if there was something he could shoot to distract Protoform X- anything to get his enemy’s attention off of Claw Clash. He saw Cybersub sneaking up behind Protoform X, his cyber-machete raised. Depth Charge grinned a bit, then quickly set his “mouth” back to a neutral position- he didn’t want X to know what was going on.
“Fine, have it your way,” Depth Charge muttered, reluctantly dropping his weapon and raising his hands in the air.
“Good, good,” X said approvingly. “Now, come-“
Protoform X was interrupted as Cybersub leapt on him, the Maximal using his knife to stab a couple of holes in X’s chestplate.
“Gah, get OFF!” X said, hurling Cybersub over the killer’s own shoulders and down at Depth Charge’s feet.
Seeing that X was momentarily distracted by Cybersub, Depth Charge quickly picked up his gun and started shooting it relentlessly at X. Cybersub quickly recovered, and did the same with his double-barrel missle launcher.
“GAH…NOOO!!!” X screamed as the onslaught pounded him mercilessly, pushing him back to the intersection behind him, where he fell to the ground, in temporary stasis lock.
“Cybersub, see if there’s any functioning comlink stations and see if you can get the Cybertronian High Guard,” Depth Charge said to his comrade, his eyes never leaving X’s form. “We need to figure out what to do with him.”
Cybersub nodded wordlessly, transformed to his vehicle mode, and flew off.
Depth Charge looked around at the wreckage of his colony, his face now displaying an emotion that few ‘bots had ever seen on his visage- a look of sorrow.
“I could have saved them…” Depth Charge muttered to himself, lowering his head in shame. “If only I hadn’t decided to wait and spend the night in Cybertron… if only I had got off my lazy skidplate and gotten here last night, I could have stopped all this from happening… but I didn’t…..”
Depth Charge was so mad, he thought his heat sinks were going to blow.
After that incident on Omicron, the Cybertronian High Guard had arrived and had taken Protoform X and locked him in an adamantium-reinforced stasis pod, to prevent him from escaping, and spraypainted a huge X on the pod to keep anyone from opening it accidentally. The High Guard, along with Depth Charge, Cybersub, and a repaired Claw Clash, took the pod back to Cybertron. Soon afterwards, the matter was reported to the High Council, and within a few days, a meeting was held, with all the top officers and council members attending. The High Council had ruled that Protoform X was too dangerous to keep on Cybertron, but instead of incinerating the pod (the option Depth Charge suggested), they decided to store the pod on an exploration ship, the Axalon, which was scheduled to make its first voyage into space in a few months. The owner of the ship was none other than one of the ‘bots Depth Charge most hated; Optimus Primal.
Many years earlier, Depth Charge and Optimus Primal had served together in the Great War. Depth Charge and Optimus had been acquaintances- not friends, just acquaintances- back then. Once though, in a battle on the planet of Araknor IV, Optimus Primal had made a mistake that had cost several members of the Autobots their lives. The details weren’t important, but Depth Charge had lost a few friends in that fatal mistake. His acquaintance with Optimus fell to utter hate for the Maximal captain. Depth Charge didn’t trust Optimus anymore, convinced that if the captain had screwed up once, then Optimus would continue to be incompetent as long as he lived.
Unbeknownst to Depth Charge, Optimus felt extremely guilty about his fatal mistake. He had told Depth Charge about it, but the large Maximal didn’t believe him for a second.
Depth Charge walked into a nearby bar to get the image of Optimus Primal accidentally letting Protoform X free out of his head.
Terrortron slumped in his jail cell and sighed, soon followed by Terminator. Both were in robot mode.
Terrortron looked much like his Beast Warrior counterpart, with many of the same features and build. The only things that were different were that instead of having a pterodactyl rear on his chest, he had an aft of a jet, and the cockpit of the plane extended out of his back a little.
Terminator, however, looked almost entirely different. The only thing he had that resembled his counterpart was his face- the only thing different was that his eyes weren’t multifaceted, and looked like large optics. His propellers from his helicopter mode stuck out of his back like wings, and the cockpit formed his chest. His arms and legs were blocky, like most G1 Transformers, and yellow.
This is it, Terrortron thought. We’ve already been arrested twice. The third time, this time, we get executed, unless someone bails us out. And I don’t know anymore other than Terminator very well. Less than a week left in my life…..
Terrortron’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud creak as the door to the hall outside his jail cell opened. A police officer came in, followed by a medium-sized transformer with a weird mouth.
“You’re free, you’re bail’s been paid,” the police officer muttered, reluctantly unlocking Terrortron and Terminator’s cell door and opening it.
The criminal duo couldn’t believe their ears. They just sat there in bewilderment for a second, then jumped up and started chanting, “We’re free! We’re free! We’re fr-“
“Shut up!” the unknown transformer yelled, instantly quieting the two. “I didn’t bail you out of here just to act like fools! Now, come with me!”
Terrortron and Terminator looked at each other curiously, then followed John Doe.
“Heheheheh….. you lose again.”
“Nuh-uh! You’ve got to be cheating, Deathtrap!”
“High scores don’t lie, Jettor.”
“They do if you CHEATED!”
“Hey, hey, hey, ‘ere! We ain’t gonna spend our time off arguing, now, are we, kiddo?”
“I….guess you’re right.”
“Now, whaddaya say we go back to our bunks fer da night? I’m getting kinda tired, myself.”
“Fine, whatever.”
Deathtrap just had to chuckle inwardly as he glanced at Jettor (whose vehicle mode was a jet, obviously) flying through the air, zigzagging like some drunkard to show off to everyone around him, going so fast that the jetbot looked like little more than a blue-and-yellow streak zooming over the streets of Cybertron.
Deathtrap had never gotten along with many ‘bots his own age- he never knew why, really- but the younger ones were the ones he had always been friends with. He had been a spy for the Cybertronian Army for several years, and thus most of the people he knew his own age were generals or admirals. Most of them were very strict, and never seemed to party like Deathtrap did. Most of his friends were some of the new recruits in the Cybertronian Army, and it was this case with Jettor as well. When Jettor and Deathtrap had met, they had developed an odd liking toward each other, despite their differing interests. Now, all Deathtrap had to do was find a life that wasn’t so routine…
Deathtrap finally managed to notice their upcoming apartment building ahead, and called out to Jettor.
“Hey, kid, slow down! We’re heer!”
Deathtrap stopped and transformed from his vehicle mode, a silver-and-gray motorcycle, and Jettor followed suit.
“Kid, turn that HVI off! I’m trying to get some sleep!”
“Aw, come on, Ray Steno is almost on,” Jettor replied.
The two Maximals were now in their small apartment, where they were on a two-week vacation from the military. It was a simple layout; a table, two recharge beds, and a HVI, or Holographic Vision Instrument, much like a 3-D version of Earth’s 20th century TVs. Jettor was laying on his recharge bed, a remote in his hand, flipping channels on the HVI. Deathtrap was in his bed, trying to get some shutoptic.
“Just turn it o-“
“Hey, look at this!” Jettor interrupted, actually leaving the HVI on the same channel for more than two seconds.
“WHAT!?” Deathtrap said in exasperation, turning around to look at the HVI. A commercial was displaying.
“Tired of livin’ life in the same old way? Want to add some excitement to it? Then why not join the Exploratory Mission Corporation? If you sign up, you’ll get such great benefits as:
- Exciting, new planets to explore that will keep you from having any sort of
routine to your life!
- Full fire and home insurance coverage!
- Money, money, and more money!
Call now at 1-800-EXCYT to sign up!”
Deathtrap’s audio receptors perked up in interest.
This could be what he’d been waiting for….
“Optimus?”
The requested transformer sighed, quickly flicking off the switch to his compubook. Just when he thought he was going to get time to read it…
“Come in,” Optimus said, half sighing as he did so.
The door to his office opened, and in stepped a large, bulky transformer.
“This came in the mail for ya today,” the transformer said, plopping down a few data cubes.
“Thanks, Juggernox,” Optimus replied, trying to sound enthusiastic, but failing miserably. The Maximal captain took the data cubes and inserted them into his computer, quickly scanning the different letters to see if there was anything worthwhile. Just junk mail, bills, and the weekly threatening letter from Depth Charge. Oh, well.
Seeing that nothing Optimus got required any advice from him, Juggernox quietly turned and started to head out the office door.
“Juggernox, wait a minute,” the large Maximal suddenly heard from behind him.
“Yeah?” Juggernox asked, turning around to face his captain.
“What recruits have signed up for this ‘Exploration Mission’ so far?”
“Not many that aren’t going to be dormant in stasis pods for a while, Optimus. Besides you and me… just two Maximals named Deathtrap and….um….Jettor.”
“Hmm…Juggernox?”
“Yes?”
“Do these two know exactly why we’re going on this mission? Besides just to explore other planets, I mean.”
“Nope. The High Council thought announcing publicly the idea of signing up for the opportunity of being on the same ship as a killing machine wouldn’t attract many ‘bots.”
Optimus chuckled a bit, the first time in several days. This whole Axalon mission being dumped on his shoulders by the High Council hadn’t exactly been the most stress-free experience in his life. “You’ve got a point, there.”
“Excellent job, Astroulas, yes. I did the right thing by hiring you.”
Astroulas merely nodded, leaving the two ‘bots he rescued standing before the famous criminal, Megatron.
Megatron squinted at the two ‘bots before him, examining them.
“Hardly top material, but they’ll have to do.”
“Hey, what’s that’s supposed to mean!?” Terrortron exclaimed, stepping forward.
“It means…” Megatron replied, yanking Terrortron forward until the two transformer’s faces were mere inches from one another, “That I spent nearly half of my stolen cash bailing you two slagheaps out of jail, so you will obey me to the very last detail, or suffer the consequences. Do I make myself CLEAR?”
“Um… yes, sir, no.. problem, sir,” Terrortron said, taken aback. He wasn’t used to someone bossing HIM around. He quickly backstepped, accidently tripping over Terminator’s foot in the process.
Megatron put his hand to his forehead in disgust. “Ugh… Astroulas?”
“Yes, Megatron?” the aforementioned robot replied, poking his head into the room from an adjacent one.
“Escort these….recruits…to their temporary bunks.”
“As you wish.”
Megatron smiled to himself as he watched Astroulas prod Terminator and Terrortron to their bunks. Finally, a competent soldier under his command. Dynamo was quite the warrior, but the infernal ‘bot questioned nearly every move Megatron made. No matter, he would be taken care of soon after Megatron achieved his goal. Scorponok, on the other hand, was loyal, but he was an idiot.
Now for the final step in my plans….
“25 cycles until launch…,” a monotonous voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
“Quickly, B.E.A.S.T, let’s make tracks over there!”
“What!? But that’s a launch pad- every Cybertronian in the city must be there, watching that ship getting ready to take off!”
“Exactly!”
“Huh?”
“Don’t you get it? If we hide and try to blend in with the crowd, the cops’ll never find us!”
“Oh… well, all I can say is, this plan of yours had better work, Maximus, or we’ll be executed for killin’ that guy!”
“Hey, it’s a risk we take,” Maximus replied, while he and B.E.A.S.T. made their way through the crowd as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. “We’re bounty hunters. We win, we get mucho creditos. We lose, we get killed.”
“Whatever, just shut up! I see the cops on the other side of the crowd!”
“20 cycles until launch….,” the speakers blared again.
“There they are! Get ‘em!” a nearby police officer yelled. He and the other cops started giving chase to the bounty hunters. The bounty hunters glanced at each other, then ran toward the shuttle, vanishing into the crowd.
“Spread out, and search the area!’ one of the cops said to his partners, and they all did so immediately.
“Quickly, slaggit! Terrortron, lift off!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying! This ship you bought on the black market isn’t exactly in top condition, ya know!”
“I KNOW! Now LIFT OFF! No doubt any survivors at the Cybertron Archives will have called the police by now, and we can’t have them stopping us now- not after we’ve stolen the Golden Disk successfully!”
The engine roared to life, and the Predacon ship slowly started to make its ascent into Cybertron’s thin atmosphere.
“Ahh,, yess….” Megatron said, as the crew all breathed out a sigh of relief. “Soon, very soon, the Predacons will rule Cybertron again. Terrortron, Terminator, take us far enough away from Cybertron to create a transwarp portal….”
Maximus stifled a yelp of pain as the stasis pod he was in suddenly got thrown into the ship, slamming onto the cargo bay’s floor.
“5 cycles until launch….”
He and B.E.A.S.T., while scrambling away from the cops, had found some stasis pods that hadn’t been loaded into the Axalon yet, and had quickly gotten rid of two of the deactivated transformers inside before taking their place inside the stasis pods. A few minutes after they had scrambled into the pods and pulled them shut, a crew came along, and the crew was now carelessly throwing the pods into the cargo bay of the Axalon.
Another two cycles passed, and finally, the crew completed their task.
Maximus let out a sigh of relief… that was, until he heard a crewman say something he didn’t understand…
“Hey, somebody activate the protolyzer.”
Protolyzer? What’s th…
Maximus didn’t have the chance to complete his thought. A mist suddenly came in through some vents in his pod, and his world went black as he was converted to a protoform.
“Jettor? How’s the piloting going?”
“Okay, Optimus. Everything’s working like a charm.”
“Deathtrap? Juggernox? Everything okay at your stations?”
“Fine here.”
“Eh, looks good t’me.”
“Good,” Optimus sighed, leaning back in his command chair on the bridge of the Axalon. Everything had gone perfectly well- the liftoff was perfect, the crew was perfect so far- well, except for Deathtrap- and-
“Optimus Primal, come in. This is a Class A Emergency.”
Optimus Primal instantly sat up in his chair, and pressed a button on the arm of his chair that opened a communications link with the Cybertron air traffic control.
“Yes?” Optimus replied, alarmed.
“We’ve detected a ship near your vicinity- it’s the same ship that was spotted near the scene of a crime that happened recently- the theft of the Golden Disk.”
“Don’t bother with an explanation,” Optimus interrupted, “I know what you’re thinking. Jettor, lock on to that signature and follow it!”