14.Sept.07
EPISODE 3: Assembly
By: SilverfromOZ
Run.
He had to keep running. Surprise 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-stride. 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 briefly before vanishing into the air.
When no reply came, he realised he was alone again. He growled and continued on.
-----------------
Sledge
had just returned 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 today,
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 figured 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 trance-like
state.
---------------
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 struck 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 an 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.
-----------------
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."
"Boy
have you got me 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 truth, justice and the Cybertronian way," 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 we
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.
----------------
Obsidian
floated down the wide corridor, his shoulder rotors spinning just enough to keep
him suspended off the ground. He passed by the various murals 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 defense 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
Predacon ancestry gave him access 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 finished 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 grittier, 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: Proud 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 corridor, leaving in the posturing,
bullet-headed visage behind him.
--------------------
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 did not
like the moniker given to the Maximal, especially because he knew the bot's
history.
He
turned back to the data slate and pressed 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 sensors 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.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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 source of the explosion.
He
entered the corridor 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 corridor 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 the 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 inaudibly 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 corridor. "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
listen 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 glanced 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 they became a
blur, as he tried to make the correct combination and restore temporary
atmosphere in the hold, resulting in the door opening without compromising the
entire ship.
The
others merely looked helplessly on.
--------------
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.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Heinland
could feel his handhold starting to buckle under his weight. His vital fluids
had started to crystallise as the atmosphere began to drop, but thankfully there
was enough of a blanket surrounding 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.
---------------------------------------------------------------
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 functional. At this point he stood to
full height, placed his hands together and bowed at the fictitious 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.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
"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 corridor
they stood in. "Brace!" he yelled to them as he slammed the activation
switch.
Each
Maximal latched on to makeshift bulkhead anchor points as the door slid open,
creating a vortex in the corridor. Razor grabbed a safety line from his utility
belt, fixed one end inside the corridor and the other to his waist and leapt
through the door.
The
line pulled taught and Razor was suspended in the buffeting 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 energon
tore 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 so
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, knocked into stasis lock by the barrel, staring
directly into his own.
---------------
He
had trudged through the underbelly of Cybertron for what felt like cycles.
Forgotten passageways and abandoned sewer outlets were only a small fraction of
the labyrinthine expanse. He had detected someone following him a little while
back but had continued down the path to 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 locate the source.
"What
are we doing here?" he enquired.
"What
is a commander without his troops?" answered the voice.
"Summoning
warriors 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 corridor
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 activated,
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 activated?"
"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.
"
believe it had a better ring to it than 'Decepticons retreat." he responded
with a petulant tone.
"Child."
quipped G1 Megatron.
"Relic."
responded the dragon.
With
a scowl, G1 Megatron disappeared into the shadows whilst the dragon awaited his
brood.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Violent
explosions shook the "Spear of Primus" as residual 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 argument. "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 corridor.
Razor
stood for a moment 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.
-------------
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 to me 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 groaned 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 corridor.
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 further 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 occurrence 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 news, 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 not 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.