Episode 3: Assembly
Run. He had to keep running. Suprise was an element he had recently harvested, however his supplies were low and rapidly running out.
The alarms around the medical complex still rang in his audio sensors. They would be hunting him down and he was completely alone. No direction. No objective. Wait. Find a fox-hole then come up with a better plan. Not a masterpiece but it would suffice for now.
He leapt around a corner into a dark back alley. The tall spires of Cybertron bast thick imposing shadows where the buildings were closest together. Exactly the type of environment he wanted to be in. There was no visible light at the end of the passageway and he believed he was entirely isolated until he heard the voice. It was deep, yet raspy and it carried and air of authority about it. "Where are you going?" it asked.
He froze in mid-stide. Thinking he had imagined the event. He remained perfectly still and said nothing as he waited for a few moments.
"You have no idea do you?" echoed the voice again, ending in mocking laughter.
He switched to night vision mode and frantically scanned the area around him. This turned up nothing. "Identify yourself." he ordered into the darkness.
More laughter followed before the voice said "It would appear that I have the upper hand. You cannot detect me in here. However because the information I offer can benefit you, I would advise redirection of your energies to your audio sensors instead."
After a few moment's contemplation he curtly replied "Speak."
"Hmmmm...." the voice teased in an amused tone. "At the end of this alleyway there is a refuse entrance. You will lift the covering to this hole and enter, Continue through the system and head downwards. I will tell you more then."
"Who are you?" he asked, voice echoing breifly before vanishing into the air. When no reply came, he realised he was alone again. He growled and continued on.
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Sledge had just retruned to his personal quarters located in a reasonably comfortable area of Iacon. On his credit rating, he could never afford any of the top spire accommodations but that really did not concern him. The natural gravitation towards the sciences and engineering had always been his calling and although it wasn't a highly lucrative position, his Predacon heritage had been an obstacle for such things, he enjoyed his work. His quarters were neat ordered and tiday, with an all round aura of symmetry.
He had heard rumblings and rumours about an escaped patient or convict and the media net was swamped with reports, conspiracy theories and false sightings. He never truly paid much attention to the news and figures this was a new craze which would pass in time. Besides he had work to do. There was always work to do.
Suddenly, he stiffened up and his optics were overloaded with a white light. He stood motionless for a few moments and then proceeded to march out the door in a trane-like state.
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Another dark alley. A scream. A Cybertronian runs for his life. The alley is pitch black but the light pursuing after him provides a dull illumination. The whine of the motor rings in his audio sensors as it hounds him. It is getting closer!
He is stuck from behind and is flung to the floor. His assailant disappears. No light. No sound. He slowly picks himself up off the floor and looks around nervously.
A hand lashes out and violently pins him against the alley wall. The other hand is directly in front of his face. The tri-claw configuration surrounding the barrel of a plasma gun. He follows up and arm and looks directly into the face of his attacker. Sharp, angled features with a central vent for the vocal unit, glowing red eyes and a light housing above. A biker.
"Credits." the biker orders.
"Please." he pleads "I got a protoform to look after."
"Now!" was the response, the plasma barrel beginning to glow red.
"Oh Primus!" he stammers.
Suddenly, the biker's optics change from red to white, causing both of them to freeze, one in fear the other out of reaction. After a brief pause the biker says "You're lucky day. Gotta go." With that he is thrown to the ground and the biker transforms into his two wheeled vehicle mode and speeds off down the alley. He sits on the floor shaking after the confrontation as the splitting whine slowly dies away.
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The "Spear of Primus" flickered and distorted as it exited the transwarp rift and returned to real space near earth.
Sitting at the helm, Cheetor could observe the blurring and shifting of the stars firsthand though the viewscreen. The blinking diodes and data projection screens barely illuminating the crew seated within the occupied confines of the bridge.
"We have just passed through the turbulent zone." stated Bomber. "The in-flight movie will be 'Honey, we messed up time' and the light refreshments will be served by our plateless servo girls."
Hammer threw a friendly punch at Bomber's arm and replied "You've got a one track mind space boy."
v"Boy have you got be wrong." explained Bomber "It's two tracks. The second just happens to be a backup of the first."
The group chuckled and with a smile Cheetor spoke up "OK bots, cool it down. We're here to do a mission."
"Yeah for turth, justice and the Cybertronian weay." added Glider with a phony salute.
Cheetor laughed with the rest of the group at that. He was glad to see the high spirits shared throughout the team in the face of so important a task. Even "Nutso" chuckled along in his own strange way, although there was no way to tell if it was for the same reason. "Alright," Cheetor continued "I'm sure all of you have things you want to do or equipment you want to check before he hit earth's atmo. Everyone go off and meet back here in 3 cycles. Dismissed."
As one the group unhooked from their seats and filed out of the bridge, leaving Cheetor to sit and think about the mission once again.
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Obsidian floated down the wide corridoor, his shoulder rotors spinning just enough to keep him suspended off the ground. He passed by the various murials seeing the monuments to some of Cybertron's greatest warriors of both Autobot and Decepticon factions. This ritual was performed every day after he left his post at Cybertron central defence command.
The record of valiant warriors fighting an epic struggle for what they believed was in Cybertron's best interests struck a chord deep in his spark. This warrior spirit was the primary reason head had joined the CDCC in the first place, and was what had helped him rise through the ranks.
His Pradacon ancestry gave him accesss to the Predacon data tracks meaning that he knew the real stories behind each of these bots. He paused briefly in front of an impressively large statue and read the inscription out loud "Grimlock: Defender of the weak and Champion of Primus." He finsihed with a chuckle while he wondered how many Cybertronians knew that the mighty Grimlock had not only tried to usurp command from the legendary Optimus Prime on a number of occasions, but also that he was originally a Decepticon. All very ironic when compared to his final battle.
He moved on and silently thanked his Predacon leaders for allowing them full access to the real history and not this platinum coated facade the Maximal Elder circulated. The gritter, more realistic edge made Obsidian appreciate their history even more. This reasoning had helped him devise new and impressive strategies under the tutelage of his previous commander, before his defection from the Predacon ranks of course.
His musings had taken him into the Decepticon wing and he tried to fathom who had created the inscriptions. Skywarp: Pruod warrior? more like homicidal maniac. Biltzwing. Quite a step from the "Self-sacrificing hero." He reached the end of the annex and stood before the largest statue in the wing. "Mega..." he began before his eyes flickered white until the green glow had completely vanished in them. "...tron." he ended in a ghostly voice. He then turned and proceeded down the corrider, leaving in the posturing, bullet-headed visage behind him.
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Heinland stared at the data slate on the large stasis pod. All the readings displayed good vitals and stable containment fields. "Rest easy old friend. I pray that Primus sees no reason for us to interrupt your sleep." He heard a loud chuckle from the engineering bay in the next room. This specific laugh was for when "Nutso" had discovered some new efficient way to power the engines or other spark of brilliance from the intelligent bot. Heinland dd not like the monniker given to the Maximal, especilly because he knew the bot's history.
He turned back to the data slate and presed a button which caused it to slide back in to the base of the stasis pod. As he began to move towards the other pod, he heard a faint whine. He paused, turning his audio senors to maximum to determine the source. He crossed the room until the sound was overloading his processors and it was at that moment he realised his mistake. A blinding flash filled the room as the explosion tore a gaping hole in the bulkhead opening the engineering and primary storage rooms out to space. Heinland managed to grab a hold of the jagged edge of the hole, preventing him from being sucked out alongside all other pieces of equipment rapidly escaping from the rooms.
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Razor fell forward on the the weapons crate he was inspecting, lashing out with lightning fast reflexes to steady himself. He snatched up a rifle from the box and raced out the door to find the souce of the explosion.
He entered the corridoor and scanned the area. What he saw sent him into overdrive. "Nutso" was cackling and muttering to himself as he stood in front of the door to the primary storage room. Razor began to run down the corridoor and as he approached, he could see the open access panel and the exposed wiring beneath. The unstable bot was tearing at wires, plugging in others and yelling and laughing all through it.
Furious that one of his teammates would attempt sabotage, he leapt forward, knocking the engineer over. With a roar, he picked up he bot one handed and pinned him against the bulkhead. "What have you done?!" he yelled.
"Nutso" shook and shuddered in response to the assault and muttered inaudiably to himself.
"Don't give me this crazy slag!" screamed Razor. "I'm not buying it."
By this stage, the rest of the crew had arrived, with Cheetor being the last to race down the corridoor. "What's going on?" he asked.
"This freak caused the explosion!" accused Razor. "He's trying to stop the mission!"
"No..." began "Nutso" but the steel-like grip tightened around his vocal circuitry, stifling his speech.
"Let him go Razor." ordered Cheetor.
"But he.." began Razor.
"Better to what the bot says." interrupted Bomber, clearly agitated at the sight of one Maximal threatening another.
A tense moment passed and Razor dropped his prey to the ground. The latter coughed, resetting his audio circuits.
It was at this point that Hammer screamed "Heinland!" She had been standing closest to the primary storage door and had glaced their colleague through the viewport holding on for dear life.
"What?" the group cried as a whole and seeing their friend in danger, each one frantically searched for any useful tools to assist their friend.
Glider tried to activate the door, however the panel merely warbled a negative. "It's not working." he observed.
"See! He broke it!" Razor pointed out.
"Nutso" looked hurt and angry "Auto-Vaccum seal!" He yelled, explaining the ship's automated safety feature. "Overriding!" he yelled and jittered pointing at the open hatch.
"Well here's your override." said Razor, levelling the rifle at the door.
"No!" screamed "Nutso", knocking the rifle upward. "Vaccum!" he continued before pushing Hammer and Glider out of the way and plunging both hands back into the access panel. His hands moved so rapidly that the became a blur, as he tried to make the correct comination and restore temporary atmosphere in the hold, resulting in the door opening without compromising the entire ship.
The others merely looked helplessly on.
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Buzzsaw sat in the familiar dark corner of the "Cosmic Rust" energo cafe. He was depressed and annoyed. Every night he would head here and try to drink his sad little life away. He had been especially put out a few nights ago, he could not actually recall how long it had been because time had lost all meaning for him. Days blurred into each other and it was difficult to discern one from the other. In any event, the night had commenced as usual, he entered the cafe, ordered his drink and sauntered over to his usual table. He was greeted by the sight of two loud obnoxious Maximals sitting there. He remembered one of them clearly. All shiny silver and pink, with bucked teeth in front of his voice box. Seeing his table occupied, Buzzsaw returned to the bar and took up one of the stools there. Before he knew it, two females in another corner had started a brawl and Rip 'N Tear had stormed in. He just happened to be the first one to be hit with an ion cannon round. IT would never have happened if he had taken his usual table.
So here he now sat, pondering his wasted existence. Even his idiot brother had set off on a "big adventure" with a Pred group a while ago and he hadn't heard anything since. Who knows, maybe he had become "King Wa...." His thoughts ended as the white light enveloped his optics. He dropped his unfinished drink and staggered into the night.
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Heinland could feel his handhold starting to buckle under his weight. His vital fluids had started to crystallise as the atmoshpere began to drop, but thankfully there was enough of a blanket surounding him to ensure that this was not too serious. Had he been flung out into the depths of space, his joints would have frozen solid and he would become a floating tribute to himself. He just had to hold on a little longer. The team would come for him. He had faith in them all. "Just hold on." he thought to himself.
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Terris stood in the centre of the old, abandoned ciruit zu dojo. He was perched on one leg with the other curled behind him and his arms were bent into defensive positions, one behind, one in front. His optics were deactivated and the overall impression was of a very life-like statue.
With an explosion of movement, he leapt off the floor, spiralling through the air with optic sensors still offline and arms outstretched. He gracefully landed on the floor with minimal sound and broke into a roll. Once the revolution was completed he rose in one fluid motion, swinging, stabbing and moving his hands in precise, pre-practiced motions which would ensure deadly blows against single or multiple opponents. He continued to swing, leap, gyrate and pivot until he was content that his combat unit was fully funcitonal. At this point he stood to full height, placed his hands together and bowed at the ficticious opponent and the dojo itself. As he slowly raised his head, it could be seen that the optics had turned white. He straightened up and marched out of the dojo never to return.
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"Hold on." muttered Cheetor under his breath.
"Nutso" continued to work through each system, overriding security level after security level. "Nearly!" Nearly!" he had begun to chant to himself. Each Maximal was sending prayers and begging Primus to save their friend.
Suddenly, the panel switched from red to green as "nutso" managed to supercharge the atmosphere system to create a bubble around the door and isolate the corridoor they stood in. "Brace!" he yelled to them as he slamed the activation switch.
Each Maximal latech on to makeshift bulkhead anchor points as the door slid open, creating a vortex in the corridoor. Razor grabbed a safety line from his utility belt, fixed one end inside the corridoor and the other to his waist and leapt through the door.
The line pulled taught and Razor was suspended in the buffetting air escaping to the emptiness of space, just out reach of Heinland. The two bots locked eyes and Razor stretched his arm as far as possible. Heinland's face became a mask of sheer determination as he began to slowly drag himself back into the hold. Servos whining and struggling against the very laws of physics. Fighting, struggling, straining inch by inch until his finger tips touched Razor's. Two bots, arms outstretched, touching and yet separated by an eternity.
The snap of metal was the only warning they had as the container of liquid energontore through the straps, weakened by the original explosion. It hurled across the room, colliding against one of the stasis pods, proceeding to spiral around the room as it raced towards the rent in the hull. The whole event happened to fast that Razor simply hung there, arm outstretched, as the barrel shot past him and struck Heinland, sending both bot and container through the gap. Razor screamed, arms flailing vainly in an attempt to save his friend. He would never forget the empty eye sockets, kocked into stasis lock by the barrel, staring directly into his own.
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He had trudged through the underbelly of Cybertron for what felt like cycles. Forgotten passageways and adandoned sewer outlets were only a small fraction of the layrithine expanse. He had detected someone following him a little while back but had continued down the pathto give his pursuer no indication.
Finally reaching a dead end, he paused briefly before spinning quickly to catch his shadower. "Good you've arrived." said he voice he had previously heard from the alley. Again at full amplification, he could not locat the source.
"What are we doing here?" he enquired.
"What is a commander without his troops?" answered the voice.
"Summoning wariors from shadows? And perhaps next we can awaken Unicron himself to do our bidding." he quipped.
"Turn around." ordered the voice.
He did so and where there had been nothing but air between him and the end of the corridoor stood a figure wrapped in long, flowing, black robes.The voice continued from beneath the hood. "I established this place as I gathered my own troops many, many years ago. This place was the rally point in the early stages and within is the machine used for calling them."
He contemplated the figure's answer before stepping forward. He raised a hand towards the figure and took hold of the hood, noticing the lack of resistance. He pulled the hood down was taken aback by what he saw beneath. He let go of the hood, gasped and staggered back a few steps. "Megatron." he whispered as he gazed at the silver, bullet-headed visage now in clear view.
Megatron chuckled in response as he said "Yes. It would appear that we both are."
Dragon Megatron stood for a moment before accepting this completely. Then he continued "You mentioned a summoning device. How do I activate it?"
Generation 1 Megatron responded "As I began to build the Decepticon ranks, I reformatted many of my troops, along with this, I obtained spark profiles of each warrior under my command. These profiles were uploaded into a planetary broadcaster I constructed with the assistance of my Lieutenant Soundwave. Once actiavted, it would send a signal which overrode each bot's primary system and forced them to head here."
"Ahhh.... Yessss." mused Dragon Megatron. "A large scale broadcast only detectable by your chosen few. Impressive. However the Decepticons are long departed from this world. What good will it do to conjure up forgotten spirits?"
"Fortunately, I developed the system to be flexible. It searched for the candidates with the closest match to the spark profile. Now it should be able to detect those Predacons who had directly descended from my original high command and summon them here."
"Excellent." responded the dragon "Now. How is it actiavted?"
"Walk up to the wall and raise your open palm to the top right hand corner. This will open the door. Then switch on the machine and use the spark interface."
"That was a bit dramatic don't you think?" enquired G1 Megatron.
I believe it had a better ring to it than 'Decepticons retreat." he responded with a petulant tone.
"Child." quippen G1 Megatron.
"Relic." reponded the dragon.
With a scowl, G1 Megatron disappeared into the shadows whilst the dragon awaited his brood.
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Violent explosions shook the "Spear of Primus" as reidual fuel supplies were sparked by the after-effects of the original detonation. They had managed to drag Razor back in through the doorway before "Nutso" sealed the door again.
They were all shaken up from the loss of Heinland, but they were still far from being safe themselves. "Damage report." Cheetor asked "Nutso."
"Main engines destroyed!" exclaimed the scientist through jittery motions and eccentric chuckles. "Life support 75%! Course maintained!"
"Alright," said Cheetor "Glider, Hammer I want the two of you up in the bridge keeping us on a stable course using the retro thrusters. Use them sparingly because we'll need them to slow us down in earth's atmosphere. "Nutso" see what you can do down here and keep us together as..."
"Wait!" interrupted Razor. "You're not leaving him down here alone! He'll slag us all!"
"Do you have proof that he had anything to do with the explosion?" retorted Cheetor.
"Oh come on!" continued Razor. "He was the closest! He was AT THE SOURCE! For slaggin' pits sake!"
"Yes but..." Cheetor was interrupted by another minor explosion. "OK fine. We don't have time for this anyway. Razor check the weapons bay..."
"I was already there." interrupted the foolhardy warrior.
"Check it again!" yelled Cheetor, ending Razor's arguement. "Bomber." Cheetor continued in a slightly more subdued tone. "Stay here and see if "Nutso" needs a hand with anything."
"OK" answered Bomber "Let's go "Nutso"." he said taking the engineer gently by the arm and leading him down the corridoor.
Razor stoof for a momnt before Cheetor, locking furious eyes with him. Finally, the veteran turned away from the youngster's onslaught and headed off to check the weapons as ordered. When the bot was out of slight, Cheetor's face dropped its edge and he let out an exhausted sigh. "Primus help us." he added and headed towards the bridge and a mission which had suddenly become a great deal more complicated.
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Megatron sat in the small staging area sifting through old data tracks. There was an extensive assortment of records regarding the old Autobots and Decepticons, information he had already gained from the golden disk raid, alongside a record of G1 Megatron's original underground experiments. He stumbled across a familiar ring configuration and his eyes lit up. "Yesss..." he said through grinning teeth. Objective acquired.
His thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched whine coming down from the dark tunnel behind him. He rose from his chair and stared at the passageway. At first there was nothing, then a spot of light which slowly grew in intensity alongside the sound. The two-wheeled vehicle raced into view and continued coming until it activated its brakes mere spaces away from Megatron. As the bike skidded to a halt, it began to change shape until the new bot was inches away from Megatron. He looked up into the dragon's eyes and the biker's optics changed from white to green. "Who the pit are you?" enquired the biker.
Megatron chuckled and said "Impressive entry...." but not impressive enough for insubordination." At this he struck the biker with the dragon-head arm, sending him crashing into the wall. "You may refer tome as Megatron," he continued unimpeded "and you will follow my command to a greater glory than you could ever have reached on your own."
The biker groan and slowly picked himself up. "Glory ain't worth slag in the real world ya slaggin' loon!" he countered.
"Oh really?" mused Megatron. "What about the type of glory which leads to a world where Decepticons and Predacons rule? A world where someone with your skills would be appreciated. Judging by your appearance and demeanor, I'd say your life is ruled by petty theft and thuggery. In MY world, you would have all the wealth and power you could desire." He paused briefly before adding "Not to mention countless female acquaintances to keep you company." He said this with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, knowing full well that this remark would ring the strongest with the predictable youth's spark.
The biker sat in thought for a few moments before replying "OK. You've got me. The name's Thrust and I'm the baddest biker bot this side of Old Kaon."
"As if there were ever any doubt." placated Megatron with a smile.
"What's going on here?" queried a voice from the doorway.
The two turned to look at the new figure standing in the doorway. Sledge's large, imposing bulk leaned with one arm against the door frame. Partially white optics gradually changed to bright green, indicating the summoning program had finished running in his system.
Before he could receive his answer, another voice reverberated with a high pitch from behind him "That's what I was gonna say."
The three turned to see Buzzsaw walking further down the corridoor.
Just as Buzzsaw reached the door, another sound echoed down the hallway. Rotor blades churned the air at maximum speed, hurtling Obsidian towards the meeting point. He transformed into robot mode and pushed his way past the last two guests. He then settled down on the floor, deactivating his rotors and proceeded to lower himself on one knee. "My Lord Megatron, I am yours to command." he said with reverence.
"Ahhh.... I could get used to this." said Megatron with a grin.
"Look can someone explain this." insisted Sledge.
Obsidian spun and approached the engineer. "Silence you fool! This is Megatron incarnate. In his previous guise, he taught me all I know and now I recognise the power and the spark signature he carries within him. He will lead us to a new era of Predacon rule!"
"Thank you Obsidian." Megatron said, "But allow me the moment to observe my new troops."
"My apologies Lord." said Obsidian, bowing and floating aside.
"You two." said Megatron indicating Sledge and Buzzsaw. "Step forward and introduce yourselves."
The two proceeded furher into the room and Sledge spoke first. "Sledge, tertiary level engineer."
"Hmmm...." pondered Megatron "tertiary? And yet you seem to be above the age of a fifth level. Perhaps your superiors saw fit to promote a Maximal engineer over a Predacon, yes?"
This struck a nerve as Sledge's eyes flared. "Three lower adepts have been promoted over me. All of them Maximals."
Megatron sadly shook his head. "An all too familiar occurence in this day and age I'm afraid."
Sledge merely nodded his silent agreement and Megatron turned to Buzzsaw. "And you?" he enquired.
"Name's Buzzsaw. I've been through every slag-house job on this miserable orb and never gotten anything from it." responded Buzzsaw.
"Buzzsaw?" reacted Megatron "You had a brother. Yes?"
"That's right." affirmed Buzzsaw. "He went off on some kind of adventure with some rebel commander out into space. Warper always was the gullible one."
"Ahhhh. Yesss. Warper." continued Megatron "He served under me. A good warrior."
"Really?!" reacted Buzzsaw.
"Yes. Alas, he was destroyed in a struggle between my unit and the Maximals on that planet."
"Oh.." replied Buzzsaw emptily.
Seeing no great reaction to this new, Megatron pushed harder. "He was a rather impressive fighter and would give himself freely to the Predacon cause. I now give you the opportunity to avenge him.... or surpass him. Whichever you choose."
Buzzsaw's expression changed and Megatron could see that his prey had been convinced. He then turned to the doorway and said "And now. Would our final guest care to introduce themselves?"
The rest of the group turned to face the doorway. They exchanged glances and shrugs before looking questioningly back to Megatron. He waited another moment before saying "Well come on then."
Another worried moment passed before a figure melted out of the shadows and walked through the doorway. He proceeded to stand before Megatron and placed his right arm diagonally across his chest and kneeled before Megatron. "Terris." was all he said in a faint, raspy voice which was not accustomed to large periods of conversation.
"Ah. Splendid." Megatron said. "A Metalliko Master no less. It's nearly a lost art if I'm no mistaken."
Terris said nothing but stood and performed a curt bow.
"So my proud group of Predacons," addressed Megatron. "you shall herald a new era of Predacon ascendancy. We will change the face of this world."
G1 Megatron appear behind the dragon and said "There are so few. Have you all deviated so greatly from your Decepticon heritage?"
Megatron turned his head to the side and said "They will serve."
Sledge looked up and asked "What?"
However his question was lost as Megatron's mind was overwhelmed with visions of the future and his brave new world.
But hey, if I expand the english prowess of my readers then who am I to complain.