The Cybertronian Civil War part 2
Posted: Mon Nov 19, 2007 12:31 pm
This is part 2 of "The Cybertronian Civil War."
Part 2: The Battle of the Prison
Miratron was running. Running, running as fast as her legs would take her. Her optics searched the darkening road ahead of her for a place to hide. But the deafening sounds and blinding lights of the Cybertronian police jet force was too close behind her.
A bot shouted, “Stop! You are under arrest! Stop running or we’ll make you stop!”
Miratron kept running. She brought down with a blaster shot to her legs.
***
The morning after the taking of the Dome, Cybertron was in chaos. The remaining members of the Maximus Council—the last bots to hold order and peace—had taken shelter in the military base. Here, Miratron was standing on trial.
She stood with her hands tied in front of her and her head down.
“Neutral Miratron,” said the judge, “you stand accused of helping in the taking of the Dome, thus becoming our enemy. If on these charges you are found guilty, you will be questioned about the terrorists who did this to our planet. Let the defendant step forward.”
Vice-president Airsweep stepped up, to the awe of many present.
The _ had been a guard at the Dome. He managed to dig himself out quickly before the fight began. With no spare CR chambers, he looked totally dust-covered and damaged. He was determined to bring Miratron to justice. But no matter what approach he took, Airsweep continually humiliated him.
The jury left the room to make their decision. After only a few minutes, one of the bots stuck his head out the door and said, “The jury wishes for a few private words with the defendant.
“Is that allowed?” muttered someone.
“Who cares,” said another.
It seemed that all of Cybertron was reflecting this attitude.
Airsweep the old jet-bot rose and went into the next room. When she entered, the jury-bots eyed her in bewilderment.
“We don’t understand, Airsweep,” said the spokesbot. “We’re at war—you and your friends are trying to get the military over here so you can send them to retake the Dome. Crime rages all over the planet after what happened last night—and you, vice-president Airsweep, seem to hate it. And yet here you are defending Miratron.” The jury spokesbot looked at Airsweep hard. “Miratron admitted that she laughed at Thunderwing and told him that the Dome would fall. And nobody knows how she got in. How can you defend Miratron? She’s a terrorist!”
Airsweep said, “I do not believe that Miratron is a terrorist. I have some of her records which lead me to believe that she is linked with Crowe.”
“That makes her just as bad,” said the jury heatedly. “She sold the weapons to the terrorists! You did not share this evidence before—we could have you arrested.”
Airsweep said nothing and smiled primly.
“And besides,” said the jury, “if Miratron is with Crowe, why are you defending her?”
“My good Cybertronians,” replied Airsweep suavely, “Miratron is my personal friend. I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now about your threat just now to have me arrested… You know, everybody comes up with their own plans when opportunity strikes. Yours is to arrest people left and right.” Her voice sounded threatening now. “Even if your suspicious has probable cause on its side, none of you can think better than I can. I think I’ve won this argument. Not one of you will dare to defy me, or report me. And do you know why not?” She smiled coolly. “Because I have power. I have money, I have influence, I have friends. I can have you all silenced if one little whisper escapes you. Is that understood?”
The jury nodded fearfully.
“What I have just said stays in this room, got it?” asked Airsweep. “And Miratron is innocent, got that?”
Again, the jury nodded. Grave-faced and confused, they filed out of the room.
“The jury has reached a verdict,” announced the judge. “The Neutral femme Miratron has been found innocent.” The judicial-bot eyed Miratron coldly. “Get out of here,” he growled. “And stay out!”
***
When Topazor woke up, there was a bottle of energon-shot oil beside him. He sat of briskly and took a few swigs. Feeling better, the wolf-bot looked around him. He was in small, square room, which was half-crumbled. Wounded bots lay all around. But there were plenty of bots who were awake, too. They were armed with guns, blasters, and energon blades. These were the rebels—the Maximal Radicals desperate to establish their rights.
Topazor lay back down with a grunt. So, he was a hostage! What would the Radicals do with him? Suddenly Topazor was aware of a familiar bot sitting beside him.
“Hey,” said an Australian-accented voice. “You’re pretty smashed up, scrawny-bot.”
“Miratron,” said Topazor, relieved to see a familiar face. Then, “MIRATRON!” he exclaimed wrathfully. “You—you knew this was going to happen! You knew that the Dome was going to be taken over. You’re responsible for it—aren’t you?!”
“As if,” Miratron guffawed. “All you need to know is, you’re gonna do what I says now. And I say grab a gun, mate. We’re a-waiting for the military to come here and try to wipe us out. They’re gonna hammer us hard, but we’re ready. You’re on our side, now.”
Topazor narrowed his yellow optics. “I’m not going to fight for these guys,” he said firmly. “I want answers. I don’t know what’s happening, or who’s in charge, or anything! What’s going to become of Cybertron? Answer me!”
“I’m sorry to see you acting this way,” said Miratron. She pulled out an energon knife. “I ought to kill you. Those guys certainly would. On the other hand, you tried to give my people some justice by letting me be your spokesbot last night. So I figure—you give me a chance, I give you a chance. Get on up, skinny-bot.”
Miratron rose and walked with her knife pointed at Topazor who walked in front of her. On the way out of the ruin, one of the revolutionaries said, “Halt! Miratron, where are you going?”
“This bot says he won’t fight for us,” replied Miratron with a smile. “I’m taking him for a walk. A long one.” Then she was permitted to pass.
Soon Topazor was walking down a set of metal stairs. He was blind-folded with his tied in front of him with energon bonds. Miratron still led him silently.
“Where are we?” Topazor dared to ask.
“The Cybertronian prison,” whispered Miratron.
Topazor smiled wryly. “I don’t know what you intend to do here,” he said, “but you’re going to get caught. This place is heavily guarded.”
“If we get seen,” replied Miratron, “it’s no big deal. I’m an identity thief. I stole the I.D. of a high-ranking prison warden, and as for you—nobody will recognize you with the blindfold and your injuries. Walk faster.”
They made it down to the bottom cells and here Miratron took away the blindfold. She thrust Topazor into a cell and activated the glowing energon bars. Topazor was confused. Why was Miratron imprisoning him when she said that she would give him chance?
“You may not feel like it,” said Miratron, “but right now, you’re the safest guy on Cybertron. The Maximal Radicals are gonna take over the prison, but there’s only one prisoner they’ll be after. You won’t be touched. Plus, if the military bombs this place, you’re in the basement in strong and reinforced cell. Your chances of survival are pretty good.”
“Okay,” said Topazor, “then thank you. Now I need answers. Whose side are you on?”
“Right now? Well right now, I’m with the military. I had to fight for those guys at the Dome or else they’d kill me. I intended to wait with them until the military came—then I would be recognized and rescued. They know who I am.”
“You have quite the connections,” remarked Topazor.
“All those nights in Katro’s Tavern paid off,” smiled Miratron. “Anyway, I want to get away from here. But as far as I can see, the safest thing right now is to be here. So, you want me to fill you in on who’s who and what’s what?”
“Yes please,” said Topazor eagerly.
“Well then, here it goes. Things are now more complicated than just Maximal and Predacon feuds. Yesterday the Dome was taken over, and most of it was destroyed. President Thunderwing died. However, Vice President Airsweep took over. She is staying at the military base now, with remaining members of the Maximus council. She has sent the military to destroy the rebels.”
“What’s happening worldwide?” asked Topazor.
“Most people took the Taking of The Dome as the initiation of war and panic. Now, Cybertronians provinces everywhere are being overthrown by angry rebels.”
“And who exactly are the rebels? Predacons?”
“From what I know so far, the Cybertronian military faces the opposition of 2 sorts of rebels. The Maximal Radicals are Maximals who want their rights and are willing to kill for them. The other groups are mercenaries, mostly Predacons. Do you follow me?”
“I believe so,” replied Topazor. “But…what about the Predadon Alliance?”
“The Tri Predacus Council members were killed this morning on charges of helping the Predacon mercenaries. The Predacon Alliance exists no more.”
Topazor was aghast. “Killed?” he repeated. “You mean they just said, ‘you’re a predacon, you’re bad, I’m going to slit your throat?’ And they didn’t even have any evidence? Law and order is disappearing. Hey, what about the DPS and GS club?”
Miratron shrugged. “We don’t know. That’s the score: Airsweep and the military are trying to get things back to normal. They’re fighting against Maximal Radicals and mercenary groups. Do you understand? Well then, hopefully the military is powerful enough to destroy the skirmishes soon. I just hope that the carnage isn’t spreading all over the planet.”
“And if it is?”
“Then we’ve got a full-fledged war.” Miratron walked away up the stairs. “I’m going to get the military to come here to the prison. It will need defending from the Maximal Radicals. See ya, scrawny!”
Topazor sat alone in his prison cell, gloomy and in a state of shock. He felt hungry too. “You could have left me an energon cube!” he called after Miratron.
Suddenly a deep voice cracked with age said, “Ah yes, life in prison. Starvation and misery for endless days and night, with your dreams crushed and your property confiscated.”
Topazor looked between the glowing pink energon bars into the next cell. In the cell there was a bot who at first looked like an ordinary worker-bot. But then Topazor recognized the bot’s roguish purple optics and keen smile from pictures he had seen.
“Megatron!” exclaimed the wolf-bot.
“My reputation precedes me,” laughed Megatron dryly. “Well, it’s good to spend my last minutes in the presence of somebody who knows me. The Maximal Radicals are going to take over the prison, and they intend to kill me, or so I’ve heard.” A fierce, hateful gleam came into the old Predacon’s eyes. “I hate Maximals,” he muttered ferociously. “Especially the ones who brought me in. They foiled my plans, they took away my dreams.” Megatron punched the wall so hard that it left a dent. “If I had but one Maximal in my reach—” he growled.
Topazor moved back uneasily.
“You see,” continued Megatron, “hate is the only thing I have left to hold onto. I will escape yet! I will have my revenge.” He sighed. “Why am I telling you all this? Who are you anyway?”
Topazor said nothing. He had no intention of letting Megatron know that he was the son of Silverbolt who helped bring him in.
All of a sudden there was a huge boom that shook the ground, and part of the ceiling above Topazor cracked. Apparently the upper floor of the Prison had been blown up. Topazor was glad that he was safe down here; he just hoped the roof would hold.
Then a flood of Maximal Radicals came running down the stairs, armed to the teeth. They crowded around Megatron’s cell, their optics glowing with hate. Somebody deactivated the energon bars on Megatron’s cell, and now he was defenseless. Topazor was surprised at himself for feeling sorry for Megatron. But surely nobody—not even this Predacon—deserved such unfair odds.
The military arrived in the nick of time. A large squad of heavily-built Maximals shot their way through the roof and landed among the Radicals. The revolutionaries took up their weapons and started fighting unmercifully.
Topazor watched in utter horror. Maximals fighting maximals—how could that be? The wolf-bot was glad when a warrior-bot blocked his view of the fight. The jade-colored Maximal was fighting a Radical; both wielded energon blades. But another enemy was creeping up behind the soldier.
“Look out!” shouted Topazor.
This warning saved the soldier’s life. The green maximal destroyed both enemies and nodded a thank-you at Topazor. Then the soldier quickly deactivated the energon bars to all of the cells. “Grab a gun,” said the soldier to Topazor. “This is one fight you do not want to miss out on!” The soldier laughed.
Topazor picked fingered a gun, but lingered in his cell. He was mesmerized by all the carnage, and yet he knew he had to act.
“Well, come on!” shouted the green soldier. “You’re not yellow, are you?”
An idea suddenly dawned on Topazor. He looked toward the other cells where the prisoners stood unsurely. “Hey, you all!” shouted Topazor. “There’s a war going on and you have to pick whose side you’re on. It’s maximals versus maximals—will you fight for law and order, or the delusions of hotheaded radicals? Choose wisely, everyone! I need your help.”
In response to this speech, most of the prisoners jumped out of their cells and started fighting on Topazor’s side. The wolf-bot smirked at the jade-colored soldier. Now I am yellow? He seemed to say.
“Not too shabby,” admitted the soldier. “See ya after the battle, if we survive. I think you and I would get along well.”
After hours of fighting, most of the Radicals had been defeated. The rest of them retreated. The first battle of the Cybertronian Civil war was won by the army.
Topazor found himself under a pile of dead or wounded robots. He struggled to get free, but failed. “Hey, look who got mixed in with the carcasses!” said the well-built soldier-bot. He lifted all the bots out of the way effortlessly.
Topazor was shocked at how strong the soldier was.
“You got to be this way to join the army,” said the soldier, reading Topazor’s thoughts. “By the way, my name is Springer. Nice to meet you. That was one party ball of a fight, huh?”
Springer II was the spitting image of the original Autobot Springer. Like the original, Springer could transform into a helicopter, and he wielded a powerful energon sword.
“My name is Topazor,” said the wolf-bot awkwardly. “I’m the son of the explorer and knight Silverbolt.”
“You don’t say?” exclaimed Springer in his roguish, good-humored way. “Then I suppose you know a thing or two about fighting?”
“Well…I’m more of a…politician,” stammered Topazor.
“Aw, too bad. Another bot falls to the plague of diplomacy.” Springer smiled. Folding his arms, he said, “Well, looks like Megatron won’t die today after all! It’s back to the cage for him!”
But Megatron was nowhere in sight. The smiled vanished off Springer’s face. His sky-blue eyes glowed faintly with anger. “Well, the one that got away,” he said, “just got away again. Shoot, how could we have been so stupid? Megatron must have escaped during the battle. He’s on the loose again.”
There was a short silence.
“Let’s report back to Vice-President Airsweep,” Springer sighed. “We’ve got bad news to tell her.”
Part 2: The Battle of the Prison
Miratron was running. Running, running as fast as her legs would take her. Her optics searched the darkening road ahead of her for a place to hide. But the deafening sounds and blinding lights of the Cybertronian police jet force was too close behind her.
A bot shouted, “Stop! You are under arrest! Stop running or we’ll make you stop!”
Miratron kept running. She brought down with a blaster shot to her legs.
***
The morning after the taking of the Dome, Cybertron was in chaos. The remaining members of the Maximus Council—the last bots to hold order and peace—had taken shelter in the military base. Here, Miratron was standing on trial.
She stood with her hands tied in front of her and her head down.
“Neutral Miratron,” said the judge, “you stand accused of helping in the taking of the Dome, thus becoming our enemy. If on these charges you are found guilty, you will be questioned about the terrorists who did this to our planet. Let the defendant step forward.”
Vice-president Airsweep stepped up, to the awe of many present.
The _ had been a guard at the Dome. He managed to dig himself out quickly before the fight began. With no spare CR chambers, he looked totally dust-covered and damaged. He was determined to bring Miratron to justice. But no matter what approach he took, Airsweep continually humiliated him.
The jury left the room to make their decision. After only a few minutes, one of the bots stuck his head out the door and said, “The jury wishes for a few private words with the defendant.
“Is that allowed?” muttered someone.
“Who cares,” said another.
It seemed that all of Cybertron was reflecting this attitude.
Airsweep the old jet-bot rose and went into the next room. When she entered, the jury-bots eyed her in bewilderment.
“We don’t understand, Airsweep,” said the spokesbot. “We’re at war—you and your friends are trying to get the military over here so you can send them to retake the Dome. Crime rages all over the planet after what happened last night—and you, vice-president Airsweep, seem to hate it. And yet here you are defending Miratron.” The jury spokesbot looked at Airsweep hard. “Miratron admitted that she laughed at Thunderwing and told him that the Dome would fall. And nobody knows how she got in. How can you defend Miratron? She’s a terrorist!”
Airsweep said, “I do not believe that Miratron is a terrorist. I have some of her records which lead me to believe that she is linked with Crowe.”
“That makes her just as bad,” said the jury heatedly. “She sold the weapons to the terrorists! You did not share this evidence before—we could have you arrested.”
Airsweep said nothing and smiled primly.
“And besides,” said the jury, “if Miratron is with Crowe, why are you defending her?”
“My good Cybertronians,” replied Airsweep suavely, “Miratron is my personal friend. I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now about your threat just now to have me arrested… You know, everybody comes up with their own plans when opportunity strikes. Yours is to arrest people left and right.” Her voice sounded threatening now. “Even if your suspicious has probable cause on its side, none of you can think better than I can. I think I’ve won this argument. Not one of you will dare to defy me, or report me. And do you know why not?” She smiled coolly. “Because I have power. I have money, I have influence, I have friends. I can have you all silenced if one little whisper escapes you. Is that understood?”
The jury nodded fearfully.
“What I have just said stays in this room, got it?” asked Airsweep. “And Miratron is innocent, got that?”
Again, the jury nodded. Grave-faced and confused, they filed out of the room.
“The jury has reached a verdict,” announced the judge. “The Neutral femme Miratron has been found innocent.” The judicial-bot eyed Miratron coldly. “Get out of here,” he growled. “And stay out!”
***
When Topazor woke up, there was a bottle of energon-shot oil beside him. He sat of briskly and took a few swigs. Feeling better, the wolf-bot looked around him. He was in small, square room, which was half-crumbled. Wounded bots lay all around. But there were plenty of bots who were awake, too. They were armed with guns, blasters, and energon blades. These were the rebels—the Maximal Radicals desperate to establish their rights.
Topazor lay back down with a grunt. So, he was a hostage! What would the Radicals do with him? Suddenly Topazor was aware of a familiar bot sitting beside him.
“Hey,” said an Australian-accented voice. “You’re pretty smashed up, scrawny-bot.”
“Miratron,” said Topazor, relieved to see a familiar face. Then, “MIRATRON!” he exclaimed wrathfully. “You—you knew this was going to happen! You knew that the Dome was going to be taken over. You’re responsible for it—aren’t you?!”
“As if,” Miratron guffawed. “All you need to know is, you’re gonna do what I says now. And I say grab a gun, mate. We’re a-waiting for the military to come here and try to wipe us out. They’re gonna hammer us hard, but we’re ready. You’re on our side, now.”
Topazor narrowed his yellow optics. “I’m not going to fight for these guys,” he said firmly. “I want answers. I don’t know what’s happening, or who’s in charge, or anything! What’s going to become of Cybertron? Answer me!”
“I’m sorry to see you acting this way,” said Miratron. She pulled out an energon knife. “I ought to kill you. Those guys certainly would. On the other hand, you tried to give my people some justice by letting me be your spokesbot last night. So I figure—you give me a chance, I give you a chance. Get on up, skinny-bot.”
Miratron rose and walked with her knife pointed at Topazor who walked in front of her. On the way out of the ruin, one of the revolutionaries said, “Halt! Miratron, where are you going?”
“This bot says he won’t fight for us,” replied Miratron with a smile. “I’m taking him for a walk. A long one.” Then she was permitted to pass.
Soon Topazor was walking down a set of metal stairs. He was blind-folded with his tied in front of him with energon bonds. Miratron still led him silently.
“Where are we?” Topazor dared to ask.
“The Cybertronian prison,” whispered Miratron.
Topazor smiled wryly. “I don’t know what you intend to do here,” he said, “but you’re going to get caught. This place is heavily guarded.”
“If we get seen,” replied Miratron, “it’s no big deal. I’m an identity thief. I stole the I.D. of a high-ranking prison warden, and as for you—nobody will recognize you with the blindfold and your injuries. Walk faster.”
They made it down to the bottom cells and here Miratron took away the blindfold. She thrust Topazor into a cell and activated the glowing energon bars. Topazor was confused. Why was Miratron imprisoning him when she said that she would give him chance?
“You may not feel like it,” said Miratron, “but right now, you’re the safest guy on Cybertron. The Maximal Radicals are gonna take over the prison, but there’s only one prisoner they’ll be after. You won’t be touched. Plus, if the military bombs this place, you’re in the basement in strong and reinforced cell. Your chances of survival are pretty good.”
“Okay,” said Topazor, “then thank you. Now I need answers. Whose side are you on?”
“Right now? Well right now, I’m with the military. I had to fight for those guys at the Dome or else they’d kill me. I intended to wait with them until the military came—then I would be recognized and rescued. They know who I am.”
“You have quite the connections,” remarked Topazor.
“All those nights in Katro’s Tavern paid off,” smiled Miratron. “Anyway, I want to get away from here. But as far as I can see, the safest thing right now is to be here. So, you want me to fill you in on who’s who and what’s what?”
“Yes please,” said Topazor eagerly.
“Well then, here it goes. Things are now more complicated than just Maximal and Predacon feuds. Yesterday the Dome was taken over, and most of it was destroyed. President Thunderwing died. However, Vice President Airsweep took over. She is staying at the military base now, with remaining members of the Maximus council. She has sent the military to destroy the rebels.”
“What’s happening worldwide?” asked Topazor.
“Most people took the Taking of The Dome as the initiation of war and panic. Now, Cybertronians provinces everywhere are being overthrown by angry rebels.”
“And who exactly are the rebels? Predacons?”
“From what I know so far, the Cybertronian military faces the opposition of 2 sorts of rebels. The Maximal Radicals are Maximals who want their rights and are willing to kill for them. The other groups are mercenaries, mostly Predacons. Do you follow me?”
“I believe so,” replied Topazor. “But…what about the Predadon Alliance?”
“The Tri Predacus Council members were killed this morning on charges of helping the Predacon mercenaries. The Predacon Alliance exists no more.”
Topazor was aghast. “Killed?” he repeated. “You mean they just said, ‘you’re a predacon, you’re bad, I’m going to slit your throat?’ And they didn’t even have any evidence? Law and order is disappearing. Hey, what about the DPS and GS club?”
Miratron shrugged. “We don’t know. That’s the score: Airsweep and the military are trying to get things back to normal. They’re fighting against Maximal Radicals and mercenary groups. Do you understand? Well then, hopefully the military is powerful enough to destroy the skirmishes soon. I just hope that the carnage isn’t spreading all over the planet.”
“And if it is?”
“Then we’ve got a full-fledged war.” Miratron walked away up the stairs. “I’m going to get the military to come here to the prison. It will need defending from the Maximal Radicals. See ya, scrawny!”
Topazor sat alone in his prison cell, gloomy and in a state of shock. He felt hungry too. “You could have left me an energon cube!” he called after Miratron.
Suddenly a deep voice cracked with age said, “Ah yes, life in prison. Starvation and misery for endless days and night, with your dreams crushed and your property confiscated.”
Topazor looked between the glowing pink energon bars into the next cell. In the cell there was a bot who at first looked like an ordinary worker-bot. But then Topazor recognized the bot’s roguish purple optics and keen smile from pictures he had seen.
“Megatron!” exclaimed the wolf-bot.
“My reputation precedes me,” laughed Megatron dryly. “Well, it’s good to spend my last minutes in the presence of somebody who knows me. The Maximal Radicals are going to take over the prison, and they intend to kill me, or so I’ve heard.” A fierce, hateful gleam came into the old Predacon’s eyes. “I hate Maximals,” he muttered ferociously. “Especially the ones who brought me in. They foiled my plans, they took away my dreams.” Megatron punched the wall so hard that it left a dent. “If I had but one Maximal in my reach—” he growled.
Topazor moved back uneasily.
“You see,” continued Megatron, “hate is the only thing I have left to hold onto. I will escape yet! I will have my revenge.” He sighed. “Why am I telling you all this? Who are you anyway?”
Topazor said nothing. He had no intention of letting Megatron know that he was the son of Silverbolt who helped bring him in.
All of a sudden there was a huge boom that shook the ground, and part of the ceiling above Topazor cracked. Apparently the upper floor of the Prison had been blown up. Topazor was glad that he was safe down here; he just hoped the roof would hold.
Then a flood of Maximal Radicals came running down the stairs, armed to the teeth. They crowded around Megatron’s cell, their optics glowing with hate. Somebody deactivated the energon bars on Megatron’s cell, and now he was defenseless. Topazor was surprised at himself for feeling sorry for Megatron. But surely nobody—not even this Predacon—deserved such unfair odds.
The military arrived in the nick of time. A large squad of heavily-built Maximals shot their way through the roof and landed among the Radicals. The revolutionaries took up their weapons and started fighting unmercifully.
Topazor watched in utter horror. Maximals fighting maximals—how could that be? The wolf-bot was glad when a warrior-bot blocked his view of the fight. The jade-colored Maximal was fighting a Radical; both wielded energon blades. But another enemy was creeping up behind the soldier.
“Look out!” shouted Topazor.
This warning saved the soldier’s life. The green maximal destroyed both enemies and nodded a thank-you at Topazor. Then the soldier quickly deactivated the energon bars to all of the cells. “Grab a gun,” said the soldier to Topazor. “This is one fight you do not want to miss out on!” The soldier laughed.
Topazor picked fingered a gun, but lingered in his cell. He was mesmerized by all the carnage, and yet he knew he had to act.
“Well, come on!” shouted the green soldier. “You’re not yellow, are you?”
An idea suddenly dawned on Topazor. He looked toward the other cells where the prisoners stood unsurely. “Hey, you all!” shouted Topazor. “There’s a war going on and you have to pick whose side you’re on. It’s maximals versus maximals—will you fight for law and order, or the delusions of hotheaded radicals? Choose wisely, everyone! I need your help.”
In response to this speech, most of the prisoners jumped out of their cells and started fighting on Topazor’s side. The wolf-bot smirked at the jade-colored soldier. Now I am yellow? He seemed to say.
“Not too shabby,” admitted the soldier. “See ya after the battle, if we survive. I think you and I would get along well.”
After hours of fighting, most of the Radicals had been defeated. The rest of them retreated. The first battle of the Cybertronian Civil war was won by the army.
Topazor found himself under a pile of dead or wounded robots. He struggled to get free, but failed. “Hey, look who got mixed in with the carcasses!” said the well-built soldier-bot. He lifted all the bots out of the way effortlessly.
Topazor was shocked at how strong the soldier was.
“You got to be this way to join the army,” said the soldier, reading Topazor’s thoughts. “By the way, my name is Springer. Nice to meet you. That was one party ball of a fight, huh?”
Springer II was the spitting image of the original Autobot Springer. Like the original, Springer could transform into a helicopter, and he wielded a powerful energon sword.
“My name is Topazor,” said the wolf-bot awkwardly. “I’m the son of the explorer and knight Silverbolt.”
“You don’t say?” exclaimed Springer in his roguish, good-humored way. “Then I suppose you know a thing or two about fighting?”
“Well…I’m more of a…politician,” stammered Topazor.
“Aw, too bad. Another bot falls to the plague of diplomacy.” Springer smiled. Folding his arms, he said, “Well, looks like Megatron won’t die today after all! It’s back to the cage for him!”
But Megatron was nowhere in sight. The smiled vanished off Springer’s face. His sky-blue eyes glowed faintly with anger. “Well, the one that got away,” he said, “just got away again. Shoot, how could we have been so stupid? Megatron must have escaped during the battle. He’s on the loose again.”
There was a short silence.
“Let’s report back to Vice-President Airsweep,” Springer sighed. “We’ve got bad news to tell her.”