Beast Machines Epsiode 2: Departure
Posted: Fri Feb 16, 2007 11:04 pm
OK here's the second installment. I'm not sure if I included enough elaboration for all the characters however we'll have to wait for next episode to see them. I hope you guys enjoy and as always any feedback is greatly appreciated.
Epsiode 2: Departure
Bright lights shone down making the world one hazy blur. First Aid was lying on the top of an operating table. He could tell from the bumps and contours of the surface that it was one of his. One he had used on many occasions.. one he had used for his last procedure.. one he started to recall now. He remembered standing with the Maximal guard and Predacon surgeon. He was ready to make the vital incision. Recollections of the scenario were sketchy however the one thing that stood out was that it had all gone horribly wrong. The Predacon had ambushed him and the world had spun about. The only things he could clearly remember were great blackness, a guttural roar, a bright red flash and the screams of a dying Cybertronian.
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“How’s he doing?” enquired Ultra Magnus. He stood alongside Rhinox and a female Cybertronian med-tech in the room containing the smoking aftermath of the failed surgical attempt. Various medical assistants and diagnostic drones buzzed about the scene attempting to look busy while not actually having a great deal to do. First Aid lay in a mild state of stasis lock on the very table he had been working on when the catastrophe struck.
“He’ll be fine.” Replied the Cybertronian med-tech as she surveyed the patient record board in her right hand. “The blow he received to the back of his cranial shell temporarily disrupted some of his cognitive systems but nothing serious. I wish the same could be said for the other two.” She added indicating the mess of nearly-cool Cybertronian metal which had fused to the floor. “I’ve never seen such destructive power.” She added with a disconcerted look.
“I have.” Replied the old Autobot “Back during the Great War when the original Megatron was active, there were countless scenes much like this… I had hoped we had moved past this stage.. More than 10 million years of hatred burning between two powerful sparks. There goes the neighbourhood.”
“Yeah. Now he’s loose. And he could be anywhere.” Agreed Rhinox.
“Can’t he be picked up with all the planetary security systems?” asked the med-tech.
“Find a single Cybertronian? In our population? Even with Megatron’s size, it’d be like finding an atom in a pool of energon. Chances are a fire-breathing dragon may be noticeable but he will most likely stay in robot mode.” Explained Rhinox.
“Also, Megatron had his planetary locator removed when he defected from the Predacon ranks so he could avoid detection.” Added Magnus.
“That would’ve made it easier to sneak in and steal both the Golden Disk and the Darkside.” Furthered Rhinox.
“Sounds like this Megatron is quite the thinker.” Stated the med-tech.
“You don’t know the half of it.” Replied Rhinox.
Magnus nodded in agreement and turned to Rhinox “I need you to do me a favour.”
“Name it.” Responded Rhinox.
“Megatron can only sneak around the cities for so long before he is noticed.” Explained Magnus “This he should be hunting around for any friends he can find. Contact the Predacons and have them give you any information they can on Megatron’s old unit. I’m willing to bet he’ll be able to charm at least one or two over to his side.”
“If I know Megatron, he’s probably on it already.” Added Rhinox. He excused himself from the presence of both Magnus and the med-tech and headed out the door. As he was leaving, he examined the charred outline of the struggle between Maximal guard and Predacon agent still preserved on the wall. Freezing in time their last futile struggle.
Magnus turned to First Aid as he heard him murmuring on the tabletop. He place a hand over his long-time comrade and said “Hang in there old friend. I get the feeling we’re going to have need of your skills now more than ever.”
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The two female Cybertronians writhed and gyrated their sensual forms on the well lit stage whilst others walked around the bar serving drinks. Most of the exo-structure had been removed to reveal the scandalous circuitry beneath. The energo-bar was filled with a veritable assortment of Cybertron’s lower class. Depressed loners sat slumped over the bar waiting for the next shot of mech fluid which would help them destroy their cerebral circuitry just that little bit more. Anything to forget their pitiful meaningless existence. Sleazy mobs of unruly Cybertronian males with average incomes and below average intelligence sat around the stage yelling at each other, drinking profusely and ogling the assorted optic-candy scattered about the room. The bar-bot was a heavy set Cybertronian, ex-military by the look of things, with a large scar running across his left optic and a few oil leaks on nearly all of his joints. His right leg had been severed some time in the past and he had replaced it with a crude reinforced cylindrical rod giving him a hopping gait when he walked. This occurred rarely since he mainly tended the bar. At the door stood two identically enormous bots armed with small ion cannons. Rip ‘N Tear, as they were affectionately known, were rumored to be spark brothers from way back. No-one knew this for certain because they never spoke to anyone except Flintlock the bar-bot and he hardly talked as it was. All the patrons of Cosmic Rust energo-café knew that all it took was one word from Flintlock and the two guards would be inside and that meant bad news for everyone.
Maybe it was the element of danger within the rowdiness of the crowd. Or perhaps the over exposed circuitry and terrible, cheap drinks. The fact was that it had always been his refueling hole and whatever the reason, Rattrap was sure glad to be home.
He sat in a shadowy corner, feet up on the table, taking in the whole scene. He reveled in the fact that he was no longer trapped on an empty planet with the same bots to keep him company day in day out. He held no grudge against his fellow crew members, he was guys the type of guy that needed some time apart every once in a while.
Bomber had just returned from the bar carrying the first round of drinks, grinned and said “You travel back in time, see the galaxy, watch an entire species begin to evolve, fight a war and you STILL have to taste at all.”
“Eh. You just got no appreciation of the finer things in life.” Retorted the mechanical rat.
Bomber pushed his comrade’s legs off the table before placing the drinks down and taking the empty seat. “Oh yeah. The finer things like easy servo-bots, super-charged macho men and that tacky alternate mode you picked up on your adventures. Yeah. Real fine.”
“That’s rich coming from Stinky.” Cut Rattrap.
“Hey hey hey.” Started Bomber with a serious face as he pointed his finger towards his friend. “The academy was a long time ago and my personal hygiene’s a LOT better now. Thanks.”
They both locked eyes in fierce challenge for a few moments before they both burst out laughing.
Bomber slapped Rattrap on the back saying “It’s good to have ya back.”
“Heh heh. Its good to be back.” Responded the Maximal.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the room, a clocked figure had entered through the doorway and proceeded to another dark corner.
“So what’s this junior commander like?” enquired Bomber.
“He’s a good kid but sometimes feels like he has to prove himself to everyone around.” Answered Rattrap.
“Ah to be young again.” Joked Bomber raising his glass and taking a swig.
“Yeah it’s a bit o’ that but sometimes you get the feelin’ he’s fighting some inner battles on his own. He needs to learn that you can trust the people around ya.”
“Well, sometimes that’s a hard lesson to learn.” Bomber added with a smile.
Rattrap laughed and shook his head “I can’t believe we were ever that bad.”
“Yeah well, you took my lady AND we were in direct competition at the academy.” Explained Bomber.
“First of all, she weren’t no lady on account o’ how she treated us and second you couldn’t really call it a competition. Heh heh heh.” Teased Rattrap.
“Uh huh. You never did stand a chance against me.” Bomber quipped back.
“Hah! That’s rich I could hit a….” as the two discussed their past, a Cybertronian female entered through the front door. She was rather athletic in build and carried herself with pride. The colours of dark blue, grey and black comprised her exo-structure and red markings were painted on her face and arms. The cut of her armor was sharp, hard and clean making her stand out in the crowd. The overall effect was that of a beautifully dangerous charm which made all of the male patrons understand this was not someone to mess with… well almost all. One of the males full of bravado and some of the stronger mixes of energo-wine staggered over and reached out to claim his prize. With one swift motion, the arm was grabbed, punched and shattered by diamond hard retractable blades located in the wrists of the female’s arms. The female continued on without breaking stride as the male’s companions scooped him up and carried him out of the bar.
The female moved to the corner where the cloaked figure sat. “You the operative?” was all she said.
“Yes.” Replied the female voice behind the cloak.
“Good.” Replied the female warrior.
“So you just believe me?” asked the cloaked figure.
“Truth decoders built into my audio sensors read the stress levels of those I’m speaking to in order to determine if they are telling the truth. If you had lied, you would have already been offline.” She said indicating to the arm which was casually aimed at the cloaked figure’s side. Had she wanted to, she could have used the same retractable spikes to pierce the armor of the cloaked figure and rupture the spark core.
“Alright then.” Was all the cloaked figure said.
“The name’s Agony. Remember it. Now we don’t have much time…” she had begun but was interrupted by three large figures moving into position around their table.
“You the one that mangled Screwloose?” asked the middle monstrosity.
“If you’re talking about the one armed bandit your boys carried out a few minutes ago then yeah. Now I suggest you leave before you get it worse.” Coldy replied Agony.
The trio let out guttural laughs at this. After a few moments, the middle one stopped laughing and lunged at Agony reaching for her arm. Agony leapt up from the chair she was sitting in and somersaulted over the heads of her assailants. She then punched through the lead bot’s back sending fluid and components scattering about the room. From here all hell broke loose. Rip ‘N Tear burst into the room blasting at the crowd which had turned on itself in an attempt to get revenge over false grievances. The result was arbitrary targets being knocked into stasis lock. One of the assailants grabbed a hold of the cloaked figure hurling her across the room. This only succeeded in leaving the cloak in the assailant’s hands whilst a very angry Blackarachnia picked herself up off the floor.
“You just made a BIG mistake.” She threatened as her own retractable claws shot forth from her wrists.
She leapt forward with lightning fast reflexes, claws outstretched. The thug raised his thick arms to shield him from the attack but only partially succeeded as the claws cut deep into his arms, cracking the exo-structure. She tore the talons out as the Cybertronian let out a scream. The male looked down and attempted a kick which Blackarachnia easily avoided by back-flipping through the air. In mid flight, she transformed into her beast mode. Upon landing, her front mandibles shot out and clamped around the thug’s neck which she then used to flick him into the nearest wall and knock him into stasis lock. She then flipped back into her robot mode and looked over at Agony who had dispatched her own opponent somewhat more brutally. “Not too shabby.” Agony complemented Blackarachnia who smiled in response. A table flew between the two and shattered against a wall and they both declared “Time to go.” Agony started running alongside Blackarachnia to the back exit and their escape from the melee.
Bomber and Rattrap stood back to back as they had in many previous bar fights, valiantly protecting their unfinished drinks and their table. Bomber had just punched a charging Cybertronian in the stomach which caused his opponent to buckle and fall as stasis lock kicked-in. He slightly craned his head back and yelled “Just like old times huh?!!” with a smile. Rattrap had no reply for as he punched his own assailant in the face, he caught a glimpse of the unmistakable Transmetal 2 Blackarachnia running out the rear exit alongside another female bearing an obvious sign on the back of her neck. The distinctive insignia of the Predacon faction.
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He stood in an open field. The sun high above gently washing over his mechanical components. Animals of all kinds grazed and dozed in the picturesque scene as birds flew overhead. He turned and saw primitive human children running about and splashing in the water of a nearby lake, their parents standing close by in a tender embrace. This was truly a paradise. Out of nowhere a small green wasp shot past his face nearly striking him. He swatted the bug away shaking his head and glaring as the diminutive creature sped away.
Suddenly, the male human let out a shout and all the animals leapt up in fright. Then as one, all the living creatures started rushing towards him. The pack was bearing down and he had nowhere to run. Should he fight? The creatures had shown no harm thus far, however could they be trusted to continue that peace? He un-holstered his weapon and nervously clutched his finger around the trigger. He yelled at them to stop, but the cry fell on ears deafened by panic. He lifted his aim to fire a warning shot, but before he could do so, he realized what was happening. Over the distant mountains, the sky had begun to turn black. Lightning arced from the clouds presenting the raw destructive power of the storm. The horde of animals and humans surged around him as the sky was consumed by the darkness. It became so thick that the blackness appeared to surround all on the ground. As panicked faces of the stampeding horde shot past him, he could only stand there, gun held limply by his side in the face of such devastating intensity. In the centre of the clouds where the darkness was greatest, he thought he could make out the silhouette of a titanic visage. He stared at the outline as it started to become clearer when suddenly three hooded shadowy figures leapt from the surging flow, arms outstretched to claim him…
Cheetor let out a scream as he woke from the chaotic dream. “What a crazy nightmare.” He declared to no-one in his personal quarters. The room which had once been full of holo-lamps, half-finished model kits and pin-ups of the most exotic Cybertronian females was now littered with mission printouts, holo-maps, small arms and pin-ups of the most exotic Cybertronian females. He sleepily looked over at the pile of disks he had knocked over during his startled awakening and groaned as he dragged himself off the cot. He had over personal records, mission reports, weapon profiles and equipment registers all night in preparation for his new command. This was a big responsibility and he wanted to be prepared.
Big Bot had visited him the following night to give him the private pep-talk which was followed by reminisces over the recent adventures they had shared throughout the Beast Wars and the friends they had lost along the way. They spoke about potential things to come and Optimus conveyed as much of his leadership knowledge as he could alongside the old motto of “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings” which he appeared to have picked up after he shared sparks with the original Optimus. It had helped calm the young commander down, however nerves were nerves and they were back, not to mention the fact that he was still shaken up over the bizarre dream. He shook his head and straightened himself up as he reached for the necessary objects around the room and placed them into his backpack. After slinging the bag over his shoulder and holstering his weapon, he was ready to go. With perfect timing his communicator warbled. He activated it and declared “Cheetor here.”
“Cheetor, its Optimus.” Came the voice over the comm. “I’m heading down to the terminal now. You should head out pretty soon.”
“Already on my way Big Bot. I’ll meet you there.” Responded Cheetor.
Alright then. See you soon.” Replied Optimus before severing the connection.
“Time for some of that cat-like speed.” Declared Cheetor as he raced out the door, scattering objects around the already messy floor.
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“It would appear that both Megatrons refuse to release their mortal coils so easily.” Stated Seaclamp with an air of annoyance.
Once again, the Tripredacus Council sat around their gloomy staging area plotting their next move.
“Perhaps if we had used one of my operatives instead of the spineless worms that make up Executioner Faction, the job would have been done properly.” Bellowed Ramhorn.
Cicadacon emitted a low buzzing sound and scowled before shouting “Oh yes. I’m sure that one of your Destroyers who are built like vibro-hammers with half the cranial capacity would have easily passed themselves off as a respected spark surgeon!”
Ramhorn slammed the table and began to rise.
“Enough!” yelled Seaclamp. “It was this type of bickering and petty squabbling which brought down the Decepticons from their lofty pedestal of the dominant Cybertronian faction to the distant memory they exist as now. If you two are quite finished passing blame and displaying bravado, I believe it is time to think about the next step in our plans.”
“Agreed.” bitterly responded Cicadacon.
Ranhorn merely rumbled before nodding his head and retaking his seat at the table.
“Good.” Noted Seaclamp. “At the present time, Megatron would most likely be headed toward to Kaon sector, where the largest percentage of Predacons reside.”
“I concur,” added Cicadacon “he will most likely try to amass a group of Predacons to join whatever foolhardy cause he is currently spearheading.”
“So when he does, we have a group of armed Destroyers ready to eliminate him on site.” Stated Ranhorn.
“Not exactly.” corrected Seaclamp “I believe that there may be some merit to allowing Megatron to carry on with his scheming… for the moment.”
“I see.” Responded Ramhorn. “His current antics are providing a suitable distraction which will give us ample opportunity to continue with our operations for the primary plan.”
“Yes.” Agreed Cicadacon “We have been waiting for this time since before the end of the Great War.”
“He sees all and knows all… let us consult the Dark Convenant.” Stated Seaclamp in a reverent tone.
At this, the centre of the table started to glow an unholy bright green as archaic text began to scroll across it’s surface. As one, the council sat upright and the same text could be seen scrolling across their optic sensors.
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“All of you have read the mission briefing and understand what is at risk here.” Magnus’ voice carried around the large spaceport terminal number 45. The port had been evacuated and the only bots around were those directly involved in and who had useful information about the mission. Behind Magnus stood the sleek transwarp fighter Spear of Primus. It was no heavy destroyer, but was equipped with enough state-of-the-art technology to be perfect for this covert mission. A clocking device, enhanced shields, auto guns and most importantly the transwarp drive itself.
The briefing area was littered with various crates and boxes containing all the supplies required for the unit to maintain a perimeter for an extended period of time. Diagnostic drones hovered about checking and rechecking the equipment whilst mindless cargo-bots loaded the equipment onto the vessel. The elite unit was scattered amongst the boxes in various states of attention.
Cheetor stood alongside Optimus at the back of the group, observing his new troops. He had read the reports thoroughly and could probably give a better brief than the old Autobot. The previous mission reports of each bot gave a clear representation of their strengths and weaknesses and Cheetor wanted to see how accurate they were.
Bomber sat on a box with his feet resting cross-legged on another. His hands were clasped behind his head and he displayed a complete aura or nonchalance. Rattrap stood beside him, which was a good indication because the Transmetal rodent only respected those he trusted and those who matched his skills. The reports would indicate that both of these were true.
At the opposite end of the spectrum was the fidgety “Nutso” who sat hunched in front of Magnus listening intently to every word but refraining from staying still at any one time. He had received his affectionate moniker as a result of the “mad-scientist” vibe he exuded, always shaking, twitching and muttering to himself. Apparently, he would come up with brilliant inventions which would range from works of pure genius to near-fatal failures. Something about his mannerisms unsettled Cheetor as they had a bit too much in common with a certain deceased arachnid.
Hammer, a female Cybertronian whose physique made her name ironic, and Gilder, whose physique did not, sat side by side, elbowing and teasing each other throughout the meeting. Their years of experience as a reconnaissance team had brought them very close together. So much that it was rare to see one undertake a mission without the other.
Razor sat on the ground, testing and cleaning various pieces of weaponry about him. Each movement was fluid and had been honed over the many years he had been a grunt on the frontlines. It was rumored that he was a part of the unit which had cornered the lead Predacons, causing them to surrender and sign the Pax Cybertronia. However, he rarely spoke about past events and kept silent about everything before the alliance.
Last came Heinland. The history here was quite remarkable indeed. He had achieved the rank of Chief strategic advisor towards the end of the Predacon-Maximal struggle and had helped Magnus maintain stability within the high council and on a planetary level. Having started his career as an infantry-bot, he partook firsthand in many of the key points in the war. The assault on the Kaon supply centre, the Sector 12 massacre and the defence of New Iacon to name a few. He appeared to have the uncanny ability to be at exactly the right place at the right time. Running alongside his fellow troops, headfirst into heavy fire, he would emerge unscathed and turn the tide of battle. He could see patterns within the world about him and take advantage of them. Many Maximals believed that he was marked by a destiny Primus had bestowed upon him, however Heinland would simply laugh such notions away. Heinland had planned all of the perimeter defenses for the upcoming mission and was being sent along to assist the young commander as well as make necessary modifications where needed. Cheetor was glad to have someone so experienced along.
As Magnus continued the explanation of the geography of the Ark site, Bomber noticed two large containers being rolled towards the ramp. “WHOA WHOA WHOA!!” he yelled leaping up. The entire briefing stopped and the group turned to him. He then bounded across the room towards the containers. As he had suspected they were CR chambers. BIG CR chambers. He stopped the loading droid and read the ID tag. “Unit – 1!” he exclaimed. “And Cyber!!” he said reading the tag of the other chamber. “Boy! You guys aren’t kidding around here.”
While Bomber continued to rant, Cheetor turned to Optimus and quietly asked “What’s going on?”
“Unit – 1 and Cyber were two heavy veterans from the Predacon – Maximal struggle.” Explained the large bot. “Rumor has it that Unit – 1 was so unstoppable, the Maximal elders could only use him in limited runs and only when the need was extremely great. It’s also said that he may have been the final product of the Protoform X experiments.”
“So we have another Rampage on our hands?!!!” exclaimed Cheetor.
“No.” Magnus, who had heard the last statement, explained “These two are as a last resort. Heinland has direct access to their core processors and if anything happens he can activate them directly. He can also send them into stasis lock if things get out of hand. I trust Heinland completely and am sure that as long as these two are kept under his watchful optic sensors, you will have nothing to worry about.”
Cheetor did not look convinced but merely nodded in the face of senior authority. “Alright.” He said.
Bomber turned around, sighed and exclaimed “Oh man. We’re all gonna die.”
At this Cheetor and Optimus turned to Rattrap who grinned, shrugged his shoulders and gave them the thumbs up. The two just shook their heads in response.
After this, the remainder of the briefing continued without incident and before long, the Spear of Primus was loaded and the crew climbed aboard. Rattrap slapped Bomber on the back telling him to “Bring back something nice” Before turning to Cheetor. “Hey kiddo, he began. I know this is your first time on the job, but I’ve seen the way you hold yerself and these are a good bunch of guys. Bomber’ll watch yer back for me while I’m not there. Good luck and try not to screw up my future too much.” He then shook the young Cybertronian’s hand and stepped aside.
Optimus was the last to see off Cheetor. He gave the metallic feline a large hug with augmented gorilla arms and wished him well. Cheetor made a scene of not enjoying the experience but his laughter gave his true feelings away. When he was released he smiled and said “Thanks Big Bot. I won’t fail you.”
“I know you won’t.” replied Optimus.
With that, Cheetor climbed the ramp and soon the fighter had cloaked itself and shot out into the starry sky.
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Silverbolt lay on the bed alone and curled up in his beast mode. He had waited for his beloved for a long time and there had still been no sign of her. He sat and watched the various channels on the holo-vid projector but nothing grabbed his attention. All he could think about was her. What was going on? Why had Magnus summoned her? Was she in danger? He would normally have headed out to search for her but her scent would have been impossible to trace in the bustling multitude of Cybertron’s population. All he could do was sit and wait. He eventually dosed off. Dreams filled his mind of terrible things. His beloved in trouble. Dark figures. Strange ceremonies.
Blackarachnia entered through the doorway to see her precious Silver dosing on the bed. She felt a pang of guilt knowing that he had waited for her, but she needed to do this. For all of them. She tiptoed into the room and slunk into be alongside her love. Feeling the warmth of her body against his, he sleepily opened his eyes and said “Wha.. Wh.. where… were… you?”
All she could say in response was “Go to sleep now bowser. I’m here now.”
Being to exhausted to disagree, he closed his eyes again and continued to dose. Blackarachnia lay on her back, eyes opened, contemplating the terrible road which lay ahead.
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“I’m telling you Boss-monkey. She’s a stinkin’ Pred!” yelled Rattrap.
He and Optimus had moved to Optimus’ quarters after the Spear of Primus had taken off to share his new discovery. Unfortunately, it appeared that Optimus had no interest. The large robotic gorilla sat hunched in the corner of the room which had previously been large enough to cater for his previous size, not his gargantuan optimal mode. “Look Rattrap, I don’t know what Blackarachnia is up to, but we can’t concern ourselves with that now. She knows nothing about Cheetor’s mission, Megatron is still on the loose and this trial has started to gain momentum again. You can bet your bottom credit that the Preds will now try to pin all this on us.”
“Look Optimus if you don’t do something about this then I will.” Threatened the metal rodent.
“No Rattrap I’ve got something much more important for you to take care of.” Explained Optimus.
“Oh yeah.” Retorted Rattrap sarcastically “Find the biggest bunch of bananas I can find for ya on Cybertron?”
“No.” corrected Optimus “A Megatron hunt.”
Rattrap was stunned for a moment. Before replying “Me? You sure about this?”
“We have agents covering every area of Cybertron’s surface.” Explained Optimus. “So far we have dug up nothing. This means that unless Megatron has found a way to turn invisible, he has headed underground. You have infiltrated, sabotaged and fought your way into countless unknown areas and pulled off every mission flawlessly. I need you to go after him.”
“So who’s coming with?” asked Rattrap.
“This is a solo mission. I believe that you have performed some of your best work this way. Besides, if we send an entire team, one, they can be discovered and two, it could get political. You need to find out what he’s up to and stop him from doing anything big. Understood.”
Rattrap paused again in contemplation. After a few moments he said “Sure. I always said we’re all gonna die, didn’t think I’d be the first though.” He added with a chuckle.
“I know this is the most I have ever asked from you, however there is no-one else left. Cheetor is off. Rhinox is helping out with First Aid. I haven’t heard from Silverbolt in days and if what you say about Blackarachnia is true, then she may have been compromised. You’re the only one I can trust with this. Thank you.”
“Yeah..,” replied Rattrap “well, when I get back… I get your quarters.”
Optimus laughed “You can have them. I’ve been thinking about moving into a spaceport. There’s no headroom here.”
They both laughed in unison at this.
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He moved through the darkness with a purposeful stride, his mighty wings wrapped around himself forming trailing robes. His form had begun to change. The wings had begun to grow darker and his exo-structure was occasionally wracked with pain as the plating appeared to be gradually shifting and changing. Growling through clenched teeth he carried on. He was Megatron. Pain was life and he would dispense endlessly more than he was receiving in due time.
He had searched for days in the underground. Distant memories directed him through the subterranean passageways. Shadows of past battles echoed in his mind and drifted past him as he traveled. He recalled the vast armies he had fought alongside and thought about where they were now.
“Excellent.” He proclaimed to himself as he spied his long sought-after prize. A section of wall, much like every other part of this underground maze with one key difference. He marched forward and stood before it. He then raised his right hand and reached into the dark corner of the ceiling. As it passed over a specific section, a small, faint glow began to throb. It gradually increased in brightness until the clear Decepticon symbol could be seen. When it was completely lit, Megatron pressed the symbol inwards causing it to slide back. This in turn levered the section of wall inwards revealing a small room filled with various pieces of electrical equipment. Megatron entered the room grinning to himself as he said “Yes…”
Walking over to a bank of old computer terminals, he grabbed a hold of a primary power lever and pulled it downwards. The monitors flickered to life and a female voice said “Welcome Megatron… spark anomaly detected. Would you like a diagnostic?”
“No time for that now.” Responded Megatron. “Run Datatrack 01: Spark Retrieval.”
“Acknowledged.” Informed the female voice.
Megatron’s chestplate slid open to reveal the two mingling sparks and the black tendril protecting them. The spiked appendage unraveled and inserted itself into a port connected to the computer banks. “Come to me my children!” he declared as a surge shot forth from the sparks and into the computer system.
“Uploading.” Coolly exclaimed the computer.
Megatron responded with maniacal laughter.
Epsiode 2: Departure
Bright lights shone down making the world one hazy blur. First Aid was lying on the top of an operating table. He could tell from the bumps and contours of the surface that it was one of his. One he had used on many occasions.. one he had used for his last procedure.. one he started to recall now. He remembered standing with the Maximal guard and Predacon surgeon. He was ready to make the vital incision. Recollections of the scenario were sketchy however the one thing that stood out was that it had all gone horribly wrong. The Predacon had ambushed him and the world had spun about. The only things he could clearly remember were great blackness, a guttural roar, a bright red flash and the screams of a dying Cybertronian.
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“How’s he doing?” enquired Ultra Magnus. He stood alongside Rhinox and a female Cybertronian med-tech in the room containing the smoking aftermath of the failed surgical attempt. Various medical assistants and diagnostic drones buzzed about the scene attempting to look busy while not actually having a great deal to do. First Aid lay in a mild state of stasis lock on the very table he had been working on when the catastrophe struck.
“He’ll be fine.” Replied the Cybertronian med-tech as she surveyed the patient record board in her right hand. “The blow he received to the back of his cranial shell temporarily disrupted some of his cognitive systems but nothing serious. I wish the same could be said for the other two.” She added indicating the mess of nearly-cool Cybertronian metal which had fused to the floor. “I’ve never seen such destructive power.” She added with a disconcerted look.
“I have.” Replied the old Autobot “Back during the Great War when the original Megatron was active, there were countless scenes much like this… I had hoped we had moved past this stage.. More than 10 million years of hatred burning between two powerful sparks. There goes the neighbourhood.”
“Yeah. Now he’s loose. And he could be anywhere.” Agreed Rhinox.
“Can’t he be picked up with all the planetary security systems?” asked the med-tech.
“Find a single Cybertronian? In our population? Even with Megatron’s size, it’d be like finding an atom in a pool of energon. Chances are a fire-breathing dragon may be noticeable but he will most likely stay in robot mode.” Explained Rhinox.
“Also, Megatron had his planetary locator removed when he defected from the Predacon ranks so he could avoid detection.” Added Magnus.
“That would’ve made it easier to sneak in and steal both the Golden Disk and the Darkside.” Furthered Rhinox.
“Sounds like this Megatron is quite the thinker.” Stated the med-tech.
“You don’t know the half of it.” Replied Rhinox.
Magnus nodded in agreement and turned to Rhinox “I need you to do me a favour.”
“Name it.” Responded Rhinox.
“Megatron can only sneak around the cities for so long before he is noticed.” Explained Magnus “This he should be hunting around for any friends he can find. Contact the Predacons and have them give you any information they can on Megatron’s old unit. I’m willing to bet he’ll be able to charm at least one or two over to his side.”
“If I know Megatron, he’s probably on it already.” Added Rhinox. He excused himself from the presence of both Magnus and the med-tech and headed out the door. As he was leaving, he examined the charred outline of the struggle between Maximal guard and Predacon agent still preserved on the wall. Freezing in time their last futile struggle.
Magnus turned to First Aid as he heard him murmuring on the tabletop. He place a hand over his long-time comrade and said “Hang in there old friend. I get the feeling we’re going to have need of your skills now more than ever.”
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The two female Cybertronians writhed and gyrated their sensual forms on the well lit stage whilst others walked around the bar serving drinks. Most of the exo-structure had been removed to reveal the scandalous circuitry beneath. The energo-bar was filled with a veritable assortment of Cybertron’s lower class. Depressed loners sat slumped over the bar waiting for the next shot of mech fluid which would help them destroy their cerebral circuitry just that little bit more. Anything to forget their pitiful meaningless existence. Sleazy mobs of unruly Cybertronian males with average incomes and below average intelligence sat around the stage yelling at each other, drinking profusely and ogling the assorted optic-candy scattered about the room. The bar-bot was a heavy set Cybertronian, ex-military by the look of things, with a large scar running across his left optic and a few oil leaks on nearly all of his joints. His right leg had been severed some time in the past and he had replaced it with a crude reinforced cylindrical rod giving him a hopping gait when he walked. This occurred rarely since he mainly tended the bar. At the door stood two identically enormous bots armed with small ion cannons. Rip ‘N Tear, as they were affectionately known, were rumored to be spark brothers from way back. No-one knew this for certain because they never spoke to anyone except Flintlock the bar-bot and he hardly talked as it was. All the patrons of Cosmic Rust energo-café knew that all it took was one word from Flintlock and the two guards would be inside and that meant bad news for everyone.
Maybe it was the element of danger within the rowdiness of the crowd. Or perhaps the over exposed circuitry and terrible, cheap drinks. The fact was that it had always been his refueling hole and whatever the reason, Rattrap was sure glad to be home.
He sat in a shadowy corner, feet up on the table, taking in the whole scene. He reveled in the fact that he was no longer trapped on an empty planet with the same bots to keep him company day in day out. He held no grudge against his fellow crew members, he was guys the type of guy that needed some time apart every once in a while.
Bomber had just returned from the bar carrying the first round of drinks, grinned and said “You travel back in time, see the galaxy, watch an entire species begin to evolve, fight a war and you STILL have to taste at all.”
“Eh. You just got no appreciation of the finer things in life.” Retorted the mechanical rat.
Bomber pushed his comrade’s legs off the table before placing the drinks down and taking the empty seat. “Oh yeah. The finer things like easy servo-bots, super-charged macho men and that tacky alternate mode you picked up on your adventures. Yeah. Real fine.”
“That’s rich coming from Stinky.” Cut Rattrap.
“Hey hey hey.” Started Bomber with a serious face as he pointed his finger towards his friend. “The academy was a long time ago and my personal hygiene’s a LOT better now. Thanks.”
They both locked eyes in fierce challenge for a few moments before they both burst out laughing.
Bomber slapped Rattrap on the back saying “It’s good to have ya back.”
“Heh heh. Its good to be back.” Responded the Maximal.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the room, a clocked figure had entered through the doorway and proceeded to another dark corner.
“So what’s this junior commander like?” enquired Bomber.
“He’s a good kid but sometimes feels like he has to prove himself to everyone around.” Answered Rattrap.
“Ah to be young again.” Joked Bomber raising his glass and taking a swig.
“Yeah it’s a bit o’ that but sometimes you get the feelin’ he’s fighting some inner battles on his own. He needs to learn that you can trust the people around ya.”
“Well, sometimes that’s a hard lesson to learn.” Bomber added with a smile.
Rattrap laughed and shook his head “I can’t believe we were ever that bad.”
“Yeah well, you took my lady AND we were in direct competition at the academy.” Explained Bomber.
“First of all, she weren’t no lady on account o’ how she treated us and second you couldn’t really call it a competition. Heh heh heh.” Teased Rattrap.
“Uh huh. You never did stand a chance against me.” Bomber quipped back.
“Hah! That’s rich I could hit a….” as the two discussed their past, a Cybertronian female entered through the front door. She was rather athletic in build and carried herself with pride. The colours of dark blue, grey and black comprised her exo-structure and red markings were painted on her face and arms. The cut of her armor was sharp, hard and clean making her stand out in the crowd. The overall effect was that of a beautifully dangerous charm which made all of the male patrons understand this was not someone to mess with… well almost all. One of the males full of bravado and some of the stronger mixes of energo-wine staggered over and reached out to claim his prize. With one swift motion, the arm was grabbed, punched and shattered by diamond hard retractable blades located in the wrists of the female’s arms. The female continued on without breaking stride as the male’s companions scooped him up and carried him out of the bar.
The female moved to the corner where the cloaked figure sat. “You the operative?” was all she said.
“Yes.” Replied the female voice behind the cloak.
“Good.” Replied the female warrior.
“So you just believe me?” asked the cloaked figure.
“Truth decoders built into my audio sensors read the stress levels of those I’m speaking to in order to determine if they are telling the truth. If you had lied, you would have already been offline.” She said indicating to the arm which was casually aimed at the cloaked figure’s side. Had she wanted to, she could have used the same retractable spikes to pierce the armor of the cloaked figure and rupture the spark core.
“Alright then.” Was all the cloaked figure said.
“The name’s Agony. Remember it. Now we don’t have much time…” she had begun but was interrupted by three large figures moving into position around their table.
“You the one that mangled Screwloose?” asked the middle monstrosity.
“If you’re talking about the one armed bandit your boys carried out a few minutes ago then yeah. Now I suggest you leave before you get it worse.” Coldy replied Agony.
The trio let out guttural laughs at this. After a few moments, the middle one stopped laughing and lunged at Agony reaching for her arm. Agony leapt up from the chair she was sitting in and somersaulted over the heads of her assailants. She then punched through the lead bot’s back sending fluid and components scattering about the room. From here all hell broke loose. Rip ‘N Tear burst into the room blasting at the crowd which had turned on itself in an attempt to get revenge over false grievances. The result was arbitrary targets being knocked into stasis lock. One of the assailants grabbed a hold of the cloaked figure hurling her across the room. This only succeeded in leaving the cloak in the assailant’s hands whilst a very angry Blackarachnia picked herself up off the floor.
“You just made a BIG mistake.” She threatened as her own retractable claws shot forth from her wrists.
She leapt forward with lightning fast reflexes, claws outstretched. The thug raised his thick arms to shield him from the attack but only partially succeeded as the claws cut deep into his arms, cracking the exo-structure. She tore the talons out as the Cybertronian let out a scream. The male looked down and attempted a kick which Blackarachnia easily avoided by back-flipping through the air. In mid flight, she transformed into her beast mode. Upon landing, her front mandibles shot out and clamped around the thug’s neck which she then used to flick him into the nearest wall and knock him into stasis lock. She then flipped back into her robot mode and looked over at Agony who had dispatched her own opponent somewhat more brutally. “Not too shabby.” Agony complemented Blackarachnia who smiled in response. A table flew between the two and shattered against a wall and they both declared “Time to go.” Agony started running alongside Blackarachnia to the back exit and their escape from the melee.
Bomber and Rattrap stood back to back as they had in many previous bar fights, valiantly protecting their unfinished drinks and their table. Bomber had just punched a charging Cybertronian in the stomach which caused his opponent to buckle and fall as stasis lock kicked-in. He slightly craned his head back and yelled “Just like old times huh?!!” with a smile. Rattrap had no reply for as he punched his own assailant in the face, he caught a glimpse of the unmistakable Transmetal 2 Blackarachnia running out the rear exit alongside another female bearing an obvious sign on the back of her neck. The distinctive insignia of the Predacon faction.
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He stood in an open field. The sun high above gently washing over his mechanical components. Animals of all kinds grazed and dozed in the picturesque scene as birds flew overhead. He turned and saw primitive human children running about and splashing in the water of a nearby lake, their parents standing close by in a tender embrace. This was truly a paradise. Out of nowhere a small green wasp shot past his face nearly striking him. He swatted the bug away shaking his head and glaring as the diminutive creature sped away.
Suddenly, the male human let out a shout and all the animals leapt up in fright. Then as one, all the living creatures started rushing towards him. The pack was bearing down and he had nowhere to run. Should he fight? The creatures had shown no harm thus far, however could they be trusted to continue that peace? He un-holstered his weapon and nervously clutched his finger around the trigger. He yelled at them to stop, but the cry fell on ears deafened by panic. He lifted his aim to fire a warning shot, but before he could do so, he realized what was happening. Over the distant mountains, the sky had begun to turn black. Lightning arced from the clouds presenting the raw destructive power of the storm. The horde of animals and humans surged around him as the sky was consumed by the darkness. It became so thick that the blackness appeared to surround all on the ground. As panicked faces of the stampeding horde shot past him, he could only stand there, gun held limply by his side in the face of such devastating intensity. In the centre of the clouds where the darkness was greatest, he thought he could make out the silhouette of a titanic visage. He stared at the outline as it started to become clearer when suddenly three hooded shadowy figures leapt from the surging flow, arms outstretched to claim him…
Cheetor let out a scream as he woke from the chaotic dream. “What a crazy nightmare.” He declared to no-one in his personal quarters. The room which had once been full of holo-lamps, half-finished model kits and pin-ups of the most exotic Cybertronian females was now littered with mission printouts, holo-maps, small arms and pin-ups of the most exotic Cybertronian females. He sleepily looked over at the pile of disks he had knocked over during his startled awakening and groaned as he dragged himself off the cot. He had over personal records, mission reports, weapon profiles and equipment registers all night in preparation for his new command. This was a big responsibility and he wanted to be prepared.
Big Bot had visited him the following night to give him the private pep-talk which was followed by reminisces over the recent adventures they had shared throughout the Beast Wars and the friends they had lost along the way. They spoke about potential things to come and Optimus conveyed as much of his leadership knowledge as he could alongside the old motto of “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings” which he appeared to have picked up after he shared sparks with the original Optimus. It had helped calm the young commander down, however nerves were nerves and they were back, not to mention the fact that he was still shaken up over the bizarre dream. He shook his head and straightened himself up as he reached for the necessary objects around the room and placed them into his backpack. After slinging the bag over his shoulder and holstering his weapon, he was ready to go. With perfect timing his communicator warbled. He activated it and declared “Cheetor here.”
“Cheetor, its Optimus.” Came the voice over the comm. “I’m heading down to the terminal now. You should head out pretty soon.”
“Already on my way Big Bot. I’ll meet you there.” Responded Cheetor.
Alright then. See you soon.” Replied Optimus before severing the connection.
“Time for some of that cat-like speed.” Declared Cheetor as he raced out the door, scattering objects around the already messy floor.
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“It would appear that both Megatrons refuse to release their mortal coils so easily.” Stated Seaclamp with an air of annoyance.
Once again, the Tripredacus Council sat around their gloomy staging area plotting their next move.
“Perhaps if we had used one of my operatives instead of the spineless worms that make up Executioner Faction, the job would have been done properly.” Bellowed Ramhorn.
Cicadacon emitted a low buzzing sound and scowled before shouting “Oh yes. I’m sure that one of your Destroyers who are built like vibro-hammers with half the cranial capacity would have easily passed themselves off as a respected spark surgeon!”
Ramhorn slammed the table and began to rise.
“Enough!” yelled Seaclamp. “It was this type of bickering and petty squabbling which brought down the Decepticons from their lofty pedestal of the dominant Cybertronian faction to the distant memory they exist as now. If you two are quite finished passing blame and displaying bravado, I believe it is time to think about the next step in our plans.”
“Agreed.” bitterly responded Cicadacon.
Ranhorn merely rumbled before nodding his head and retaking his seat at the table.
“Good.” Noted Seaclamp. “At the present time, Megatron would most likely be headed toward to Kaon sector, where the largest percentage of Predacons reside.”
“I concur,” added Cicadacon “he will most likely try to amass a group of Predacons to join whatever foolhardy cause he is currently spearheading.”
“So when he does, we have a group of armed Destroyers ready to eliminate him on site.” Stated Ranhorn.
“Not exactly.” corrected Seaclamp “I believe that there may be some merit to allowing Megatron to carry on with his scheming… for the moment.”
“I see.” Responded Ramhorn. “His current antics are providing a suitable distraction which will give us ample opportunity to continue with our operations for the primary plan.”
“Yes.” Agreed Cicadacon “We have been waiting for this time since before the end of the Great War.”
“He sees all and knows all… let us consult the Dark Convenant.” Stated Seaclamp in a reverent tone.
At this, the centre of the table started to glow an unholy bright green as archaic text began to scroll across it’s surface. As one, the council sat upright and the same text could be seen scrolling across their optic sensors.
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“All of you have read the mission briefing and understand what is at risk here.” Magnus’ voice carried around the large spaceport terminal number 45. The port had been evacuated and the only bots around were those directly involved in and who had useful information about the mission. Behind Magnus stood the sleek transwarp fighter Spear of Primus. It was no heavy destroyer, but was equipped with enough state-of-the-art technology to be perfect for this covert mission. A clocking device, enhanced shields, auto guns and most importantly the transwarp drive itself.
The briefing area was littered with various crates and boxes containing all the supplies required for the unit to maintain a perimeter for an extended period of time. Diagnostic drones hovered about checking and rechecking the equipment whilst mindless cargo-bots loaded the equipment onto the vessel. The elite unit was scattered amongst the boxes in various states of attention.
Cheetor stood alongside Optimus at the back of the group, observing his new troops. He had read the reports thoroughly and could probably give a better brief than the old Autobot. The previous mission reports of each bot gave a clear representation of their strengths and weaknesses and Cheetor wanted to see how accurate they were.
Bomber sat on a box with his feet resting cross-legged on another. His hands were clasped behind his head and he displayed a complete aura or nonchalance. Rattrap stood beside him, which was a good indication because the Transmetal rodent only respected those he trusted and those who matched his skills. The reports would indicate that both of these were true.
At the opposite end of the spectrum was the fidgety “Nutso” who sat hunched in front of Magnus listening intently to every word but refraining from staying still at any one time. He had received his affectionate moniker as a result of the “mad-scientist” vibe he exuded, always shaking, twitching and muttering to himself. Apparently, he would come up with brilliant inventions which would range from works of pure genius to near-fatal failures. Something about his mannerisms unsettled Cheetor as they had a bit too much in common with a certain deceased arachnid.
Hammer, a female Cybertronian whose physique made her name ironic, and Gilder, whose physique did not, sat side by side, elbowing and teasing each other throughout the meeting. Their years of experience as a reconnaissance team had brought them very close together. So much that it was rare to see one undertake a mission without the other.
Razor sat on the ground, testing and cleaning various pieces of weaponry about him. Each movement was fluid and had been honed over the many years he had been a grunt on the frontlines. It was rumored that he was a part of the unit which had cornered the lead Predacons, causing them to surrender and sign the Pax Cybertronia. However, he rarely spoke about past events and kept silent about everything before the alliance.
Last came Heinland. The history here was quite remarkable indeed. He had achieved the rank of Chief strategic advisor towards the end of the Predacon-Maximal struggle and had helped Magnus maintain stability within the high council and on a planetary level. Having started his career as an infantry-bot, he partook firsthand in many of the key points in the war. The assault on the Kaon supply centre, the Sector 12 massacre and the defence of New Iacon to name a few. He appeared to have the uncanny ability to be at exactly the right place at the right time. Running alongside his fellow troops, headfirst into heavy fire, he would emerge unscathed and turn the tide of battle. He could see patterns within the world about him and take advantage of them. Many Maximals believed that he was marked by a destiny Primus had bestowed upon him, however Heinland would simply laugh such notions away. Heinland had planned all of the perimeter defenses for the upcoming mission and was being sent along to assist the young commander as well as make necessary modifications where needed. Cheetor was glad to have someone so experienced along.
As Magnus continued the explanation of the geography of the Ark site, Bomber noticed two large containers being rolled towards the ramp. “WHOA WHOA WHOA!!” he yelled leaping up. The entire briefing stopped and the group turned to him. He then bounded across the room towards the containers. As he had suspected they were CR chambers. BIG CR chambers. He stopped the loading droid and read the ID tag. “Unit – 1!” he exclaimed. “And Cyber!!” he said reading the tag of the other chamber. “Boy! You guys aren’t kidding around here.”
While Bomber continued to rant, Cheetor turned to Optimus and quietly asked “What’s going on?”
“Unit – 1 and Cyber were two heavy veterans from the Predacon – Maximal struggle.” Explained the large bot. “Rumor has it that Unit – 1 was so unstoppable, the Maximal elders could only use him in limited runs and only when the need was extremely great. It’s also said that he may have been the final product of the Protoform X experiments.”
“So we have another Rampage on our hands?!!!” exclaimed Cheetor.
“No.” Magnus, who had heard the last statement, explained “These two are as a last resort. Heinland has direct access to their core processors and if anything happens he can activate them directly. He can also send them into stasis lock if things get out of hand. I trust Heinland completely and am sure that as long as these two are kept under his watchful optic sensors, you will have nothing to worry about.”
Cheetor did not look convinced but merely nodded in the face of senior authority. “Alright.” He said.
Bomber turned around, sighed and exclaimed “Oh man. We’re all gonna die.”
At this Cheetor and Optimus turned to Rattrap who grinned, shrugged his shoulders and gave them the thumbs up. The two just shook their heads in response.
After this, the remainder of the briefing continued without incident and before long, the Spear of Primus was loaded and the crew climbed aboard. Rattrap slapped Bomber on the back telling him to “Bring back something nice” Before turning to Cheetor. “Hey kiddo, he began. I know this is your first time on the job, but I’ve seen the way you hold yerself and these are a good bunch of guys. Bomber’ll watch yer back for me while I’m not there. Good luck and try not to screw up my future too much.” He then shook the young Cybertronian’s hand and stepped aside.
Optimus was the last to see off Cheetor. He gave the metallic feline a large hug with augmented gorilla arms and wished him well. Cheetor made a scene of not enjoying the experience but his laughter gave his true feelings away. When he was released he smiled and said “Thanks Big Bot. I won’t fail you.”
“I know you won’t.” replied Optimus.
With that, Cheetor climbed the ramp and soon the fighter had cloaked itself and shot out into the starry sky.
----------------------------------
Silverbolt lay on the bed alone and curled up in his beast mode. He had waited for his beloved for a long time and there had still been no sign of her. He sat and watched the various channels on the holo-vid projector but nothing grabbed his attention. All he could think about was her. What was going on? Why had Magnus summoned her? Was she in danger? He would normally have headed out to search for her but her scent would have been impossible to trace in the bustling multitude of Cybertron’s population. All he could do was sit and wait. He eventually dosed off. Dreams filled his mind of terrible things. His beloved in trouble. Dark figures. Strange ceremonies.
Blackarachnia entered through the doorway to see her precious Silver dosing on the bed. She felt a pang of guilt knowing that he had waited for her, but she needed to do this. For all of them. She tiptoed into the room and slunk into be alongside her love. Feeling the warmth of her body against his, he sleepily opened his eyes and said “Wha.. Wh.. where… were… you?”
All she could say in response was “Go to sleep now bowser. I’m here now.”
Being to exhausted to disagree, he closed his eyes again and continued to dose. Blackarachnia lay on her back, eyes opened, contemplating the terrible road which lay ahead.
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“I’m telling you Boss-monkey. She’s a stinkin’ Pred!” yelled Rattrap.
He and Optimus had moved to Optimus’ quarters after the Spear of Primus had taken off to share his new discovery. Unfortunately, it appeared that Optimus had no interest. The large robotic gorilla sat hunched in the corner of the room which had previously been large enough to cater for his previous size, not his gargantuan optimal mode. “Look Rattrap, I don’t know what Blackarachnia is up to, but we can’t concern ourselves with that now. She knows nothing about Cheetor’s mission, Megatron is still on the loose and this trial has started to gain momentum again. You can bet your bottom credit that the Preds will now try to pin all this on us.”
“Look Optimus if you don’t do something about this then I will.” Threatened the metal rodent.
“No Rattrap I’ve got something much more important for you to take care of.” Explained Optimus.
“Oh yeah.” Retorted Rattrap sarcastically “Find the biggest bunch of bananas I can find for ya on Cybertron?”
“No.” corrected Optimus “A Megatron hunt.”
Rattrap was stunned for a moment. Before replying “Me? You sure about this?”
“We have agents covering every area of Cybertron’s surface.” Explained Optimus. “So far we have dug up nothing. This means that unless Megatron has found a way to turn invisible, he has headed underground. You have infiltrated, sabotaged and fought your way into countless unknown areas and pulled off every mission flawlessly. I need you to go after him.”
“So who’s coming with?” asked Rattrap.
“This is a solo mission. I believe that you have performed some of your best work this way. Besides, if we send an entire team, one, they can be discovered and two, it could get political. You need to find out what he’s up to and stop him from doing anything big. Understood.”
Rattrap paused again in contemplation. After a few moments he said “Sure. I always said we’re all gonna die, didn’t think I’d be the first though.” He added with a chuckle.
“I know this is the most I have ever asked from you, however there is no-one else left. Cheetor is off. Rhinox is helping out with First Aid. I haven’t heard from Silverbolt in days and if what you say about Blackarachnia is true, then she may have been compromised. You’re the only one I can trust with this. Thank you.”
“Yeah..,” replied Rattrap “well, when I get back… I get your quarters.”
Optimus laughed “You can have them. I’ve been thinking about moving into a spaceport. There’s no headroom here.”
They both laughed in unison at this.
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He moved through the darkness with a purposeful stride, his mighty wings wrapped around himself forming trailing robes. His form had begun to change. The wings had begun to grow darker and his exo-structure was occasionally wracked with pain as the plating appeared to be gradually shifting and changing. Growling through clenched teeth he carried on. He was Megatron. Pain was life and he would dispense endlessly more than he was receiving in due time.
He had searched for days in the underground. Distant memories directed him through the subterranean passageways. Shadows of past battles echoed in his mind and drifted past him as he traveled. He recalled the vast armies he had fought alongside and thought about where they were now.
“Excellent.” He proclaimed to himself as he spied his long sought-after prize. A section of wall, much like every other part of this underground maze with one key difference. He marched forward and stood before it. He then raised his right hand and reached into the dark corner of the ceiling. As it passed over a specific section, a small, faint glow began to throb. It gradually increased in brightness until the clear Decepticon symbol could be seen. When it was completely lit, Megatron pressed the symbol inwards causing it to slide back. This in turn levered the section of wall inwards revealing a small room filled with various pieces of electrical equipment. Megatron entered the room grinning to himself as he said “Yes…”
Walking over to a bank of old computer terminals, he grabbed a hold of a primary power lever and pulled it downwards. The monitors flickered to life and a female voice said “Welcome Megatron… spark anomaly detected. Would you like a diagnostic?”
“No time for that now.” Responded Megatron. “Run Datatrack 01: Spark Retrieval.”
“Acknowledged.” Informed the female voice.
Megatron’s chestplate slid open to reveal the two mingling sparks and the black tendril protecting them. The spiked appendage unraveled and inserted itself into a port connected to the computer banks. “Come to me my children!” he declared as a surge shot forth from the sparks and into the computer system.
“Uploading.” Coolly exclaimed the computer.
Megatron responded with maniacal laughter.
megs with the sparks ALREADY!!!!
Ya gotta love 'im.