The Medusae: orbit around Predacon controlled asteroid K-2-101.43.2
Sometimes politics don’t pay…
"Long distance scanners are still showing
nothing." the engineering officer’s voice grates on your nerves.
"You know ," you bite back, "You only
need to report when you have something TO report!"
The orange and green Destron looked back with
unblinking eyes, "I WAS reporting." It states as if it was obvious,
"There is a lack of activity to report."
You shake your head.
--Mindless go-bot…--
It has been three weeks! Three weeks of
pointless guard duty on a lifeless chunk of space debris! Just so that a bunch
of paranoid delusional Predacons could continue their ‘scientific’ work down
below!!!
Sometimes politics don’t pay…
You had hit a dead point in your climb through the Destron
hierarchy. Their infrastructure was built on heavily militaristic
ideas and concepts. So, at the point you had reached, you were at a
standstill unless you had had some kind of organized military background… and
espionage agent for the Decepticon legions seemed to not count on a resume…
So, your ‘friends’ suggested that you pick up a ticket
as a captain of a Destron ‘Guardian’ ship. Basically it was a destroyer
that was retooled for ‘defensive operations’… or for covert missions from the
Destron Generals, at least those had been interesting!
But now, the fear of an attack from the ‘mystery’
raiders that have been slaughtering seemingly random outposts across the stars
has spurred the Cybertronian Councils to assign all their available ships in a
spread that keeps their collected skid-plates covered. So, you now sat
watching a pitiful little Predacon outpost that did some minor energon mining
and material acquisition.
You thrum your fingers against the steel arm of the
command chair. A powerful battleship, a crew of fifteen proto-formed,
battle-ready drop troops, and here you sat babysitting for a bunch of
reptile-robots!
"Long distance scanners are still showing
nothing."
You groan, "Tell you what, Deadcircuit, how about
you stop reporting every five cycles. Let’s spread it out to… say
every other SOLAR CYCLE!!!"
"Affirmative."
You shake your head, --The moron will do it to!!—
"Nix that last command. Just inform me when
the status CHANGES, Okay?"
"Affirmative."
You hear a snicker from the pilot seat, you affix the
gray and blue robot with a glare, "Finding something funny
Stormcloud?!"
The low rumbling voice pours out of the robot’s
faceplate, "Sorry, Captain. Just going stir crazy. How long
are we supposed to stay anchored to this pit?"
You sigh, "Until we are given new orders, or are
attacked."
"We could always just slag the base ourselves,"
chided a high pitched, female voice, "at least that would take care of our
duties!"
"Yeah, Marker, " you look towards the
weapons console where a thin yellow and red robot sat… upsidedown, "but
then you guys wouldn’t have much of a paycheck to return to… or a job."
"It’d be a good laugh though." Rumbled
Stormcloud.
You nod in agreement, but when it all boiled down to
it, you had spent enough years in exile trying to cling to your old
allegiance. Boredom just wasn’t a good enough reason to blow all that you
had worked to build in the Destron military.
You stand up, stretching, "I’m going for a
walk…"
Deadcircuit’s voice drones out, "Long distance
scanners are still showing nothing…"
"I TOLD YOU…" you start in.
"…but there is a priority Alpha message coming in
on an encrypted frequency."
You blink, "Alpha? What the slag is that
important?"
His voice grates slowly, "Alpha messages are
reserved for planetary disaster warnings and…"
"It was rhetorical! Just put the message
through!"
Static crackles as the speaker spills out the urgent
message, "under siege, all Cybertron ships
must reroute and stay away from the planet. Coordinates for a rendezvous
point are encrypted in this message. Repeat. Cybertron is currently
under siege, all Maximal, Predacon, Cybertron, and Destron ships must reroute
and stay away from the planet. Coordinates for a rendezvous point are
encrypted in this message. Repeat…"
You plop back down into your chair with a metallic
clunk, "Kill it."
--Cybertron, under siege?!? By WHAT!?!?
And why aren’t we called back… why a rendezvous point?!?—
Marker spun around in her chair, twisting right side
up and planting her feet down with a sharp snap, "Well, looks like we’re
outta guard duty."
Stormcloud looks back at you, "A trick?"
You shake your head. The encryption that is used
on that level of messages is intense. There were easier ways to draw a
lone destroyer away from guard duty over a mining asteroid than to spend
several years trying to crack something of that level!
The eyes of your three active crewmembers turn toward
you.
"So," jumped in Marker, "Whatsa plan,
Cap’n Specter ma’am?"
You didn’t know, you hated being captain. It’s
way to high profile, but if there was war… There are always good spy jobs
for a war-zone.
You look back at your expectant crew…
The Medusae: on guard duty
You grimace, your pale eyes surveying the
control-bridge, "Get the coordinates."
"Affirmative." Answered the mechanical voice
of Deadcircuit.
-- Slag, but I hate this. So little room for
creativity... especially when it comes to direct orders.--
"We'll leave for the rendezvous point
immediately."
--Hmph... maybe my circuits have been more
affected by those years in exile... in prison... than I realized. I can see a
conspiracy in all this. Stormcloud may have a point. Yes, Alpha priority
encryption would be overkill in the removal of one destroyer. But what if the
message is part of something larger? We may be an incidental target of some
larger plan to draw ships away from Cybertron. Leading us all into a net of
superior forces. Leaving Cybertron in the open, for a fleet of-- but who could
be attacking? –
You shake yourself from your reverie with a sigh.
--Next I'll be seeing a Maximal plot to wipe out the
Preds hiding on this rock we've been guarding!!—
"Thundercloud, bring us up to full speed, I want
to get there ASAP."
"Right. Heating up hyperdrive engines now,
and moving us a safe distance away from the asteroid."
Suddenly a signal crackles across the comm unit,
"Medusae, why are you leaving orbit!?!?"
You sigh and hit the comm, "You know as well as
we do."
"But you were assigned to be our
protection." The quick, buzzing voice came across.
The scientists could be such idiots, "Sorry, the
priority on that message supercedes our previous orders. You are S. O.
L. So long!"
You cut the transmission.
"Marker, drop a couple of defense sattelites so
they won’t have a pipe leak over us leaving."
"Righto!" the thin ‘bot chirped.
"Deadcircuit, is their any transmissions coming
from Cybertron? The newswire, weather, anything?"
The thick robot leans over, looking closer at his
readouts, Negative. All transmissions seem to be dead."
You think for a moment, "What about other
solar-casts?"
The robot looks back at you inquisitively.
"Scan some of the worlds that visit Cybertron
frequently, is their anything on their deep space newscasts?"
He turns back and hits a few buttons, a moment later a
news report appears on the screen.
A computer digitized creature of some odd translucent
race appears. It’s head was flat and fairly featureless as it droned out
news reports.
"These pictures were transmitted from the a
Bawothan ship before it fell to the carnage around the planet of Cybertron.
"
The screen shifted to show a grainy picture of a huge
orange-ish ship. It was enormouse, but the camera shook around as
explosions obviously rocked the ship in it’s escape.
Static crackled across and a closer image appeared
showing a large horn adorning the front of the egg shaped war ship.
"FREEZE THAT!" you gasp.
The image halted on the screen, static blurred the
edges badly and several lines across the forefront distorted the image, but the
monstrosity that was the horn could still be easily recognized.
For centuries, since his attack, every inch of that
monster had been etched on the very nightmare’s of every Cybertronian.
The horn belonged to Unicron.
The Chaos Bringer.
Silence reigned for cycles on the bridge. Then,
quietly you break the awed fear, "Continue the transmission."
The picture disappears and is replaced again by the alien,
"Rumors abound to the identity of these new assailants. Some say
it is the Decepticon’s returning to the galaxy, other whisper the name of a
dark God of the Cybertronians. But in truth, our intelligence points to a
technologically advanced race that has decided to attack the most powerful
planet known…"
"Kill the transmission."
It blinks off with a snap.
--Unicron!?!? No, Unicron was larger, and looked
considerable different.—
Also, why only one horn. Unicron had two
horns. The transmission was sloppy… but there was something else…
something about the picture that seemed to bother you.
And, there were other ships in the background,
warships. Unicron didn’t travel with an armada.
"Activate the hyperdrive." Your voice sounds
hollow and empty in the stillness of the bridge.
You summon a holo-sphere. Activating the picture by
hand rather than voice.
There’s that odd itch again, something your overlooking…
You tap in some commands on your chair and a section of the
image freezes and enlarges.
Purple.
You enhance the picture.
Below the horn, on a large pay, almost like a screen on the
front of the spheroid, there was a purple blurr.
As you enhance it, it sharpens into a sigil.
A Decepticon sigil.
Quickly you delete the picture and the signal itself from
the computer.
--If they ask, I just did it in a mad reaction to the
horn…--
You sit back, looking over the active crewmembers. Not for
the first time you wonder how much they know about you. They're good at
their jobs and they follow orders… well at least they’re good at their jobs…
but how much do they really know?
Ghosts of your past seem to rise up out of nowhere.
The time you spent on the run, the time spent in incarceration…Why are they
members of my crew and not someone else? There could be ulterior motives to
their placement…
--But then, I'm being paranoid again. And it's not
relevant to the current situation.--
Or is it?
Maybe deleting the transmission was wrong, maybe you were
seeing things.
--Blast me, I think I'm actually hoping for conflict!!—
You begin to doubt what you saw. It was a bad
transmission, sometimes enhancement just blurrs things together.
The Destron sigil was similar to the old Decepticon sigil…
maybe the Destron’s were the ones attacking and the computer just screwed up
the enhancement.
--No, we’re a Destron battleship, we’d know if we were
attacking someone!—
Or would you? Would they tell a Decepticon, or would
they make sure that the Decepticon was shipped off somewhere safe while they
did what they wanted to...
--SLAG!!! This isn’t helping the situation!!!—
The situation…It was still an unknown. Its nature must be
uncovered.
--And maybe I'll have the chance to do what I've been
trained to do, and show those slagging Generals what I'm really made of!!—
You contain a snarl at that thought.
--A war could be a good thing.--
Quietly, under your breath, you say "We'll
find out what's going on one way or another."
The Medusae
You ponder the situation, but decide that it is really the best thing to do, going to these coordinates.
--After all, showing up at Cybertron now
with a Destron battleship is likely to scrap us all. Whether or not I want to fight.—
Besides, ‘loyalty dictates service’. You could play the obedient lapdog, for now.
If it was the Destron’s attacking, then it was strategically stupid not to have the Medusae in the fray. Even with… no, ESPECIALLY with a Decepticon in command.
That horn… making the Warworld look like a hideous head almost. Someone was going for some severe shock value.
--When in doubt… bluff.
I wonder how many ships are really in that fleet?—
The sigil still bothered you. Was it what you really thought, or was it just desire playing mind games with you.
You shake off the thought, turning instead to the idea of the rendezvous point.
With a sigh you get up and retire to your quarters for the time being.
A day and a half pass, uneventfully. Most of the crew seemed normal, if a bit anxious to find out what was going on. Once in hyperspace, only certain frequencies could be accessed, and those were usually demarked for emergency transmission.
In fact, on the second day, that was exactly what caught your attention…
“I don’t know why we were snagged out of hyper!” grumbles Marker, “This is Stormcloud’s job, not mine!” she tapps furiously on the controls as the rear door opens and the gray and blue Destron trudges in.
“What’s up?”
Marker and you both turn toward him, but before you could answer, the little yellow and red bot jumped up and was planting a finger in his chest, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You’re stupid hyperdrive coordinates dropped us in the middle of NOWHERE!!! We’re not even where we are supposed to be!! Meanwhile, you’re out trolloping around the ship playing with yo…”
“MARKER! Stand down!!”
The little bot jumps down from where she floated in front of Thundercloud with a pout.
“Dropped us outta hyperspace?” The large bot pondered as he moved to his seat.
“Yeah, any clues?”
“Yeah, the little blinking red light says emergency communication.” He smirks in Marker’s direction.
Her eyes narrowed and her teeth ground together.
“What kind of communication?”
“There’s only a few that are keyed to set the auto drop feature on the mains. It looks like some kind of critical emergency. Someone is stranded. The signal’s weak. I’m surprised we even picked it up.”
“Is it Destron?”
“Dunno, too far still, it just barely snagged us outta space.”
“Should we bother?” asks Marker.
Deadcircuit stepped through the doorway, “Destron code for warship captain 3.11.33.22.55.6 states that any emergency signal should be heeded, unless there is an overwhelming state of emergency at hand.”
“Like war?” you smirk.
“Acceptable, but we are not exactly on a time schedule.”
--Great, this is all I need… But
then again, we could probably use all the help we can get.—
The Medusae
You ponder the situation, but decide that it is really the best thing to do, going to these coordinates.
--After all, showing up at Cybertron now
with a Destron battleship is likely to scrap us all. Whether or not I want to fight.—
Besides, ‘loyalty dictates service’. You could play the obedient lapdog, for now.
If it was the Destron’s attacking, then it was strategically stupid not to have the Medusae in the fray. Even with… no, ESPECIALLY with a Decepticon in command.
That horn… making the Warworld look like a hideous head almost. Someone was going for some severe shock value.
--When in doubt… bluff.
I wonder how many ships are really in that fleet?—
The sigil still bothered you. Was it what you really thought, or was it just desire playing mind games with you.
You shake off the thought, turning instead to the idea of the rendezvous point.
With a sigh you get up and retire to your quarters for the time being.
A day and a half pass, uneventfully. Most of the crew seemed normal, if a bit anxious to find out what was going on. Once in hyperspace, only certain frequencies could be accessed, and those were usually demarked for emergency transmission.
In fact, on the second day, that was exactly what caught your attention…
“I don’t know why we were snagged out of hyper!” grumbles Marker, “This is Stormcloud’s job, not mine!” she tapps furiously on the controls as the rear door opens and the gray and blue Destron trudges in.
“What’s up?”
Marker and you both turn toward him, but before you could answer, the little yellow and red bot jumped up and was planting a finger in his chest, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You’re stupid hyperdrive coordinates dropped us in the middle of NOWHERE!!! We’re not even where we are supposed to be!! Meanwhile, you’re out trolloping around the ship playing with yo…”
“MARKER! Stand down!!”
The little bot jumps down from where she floated in front of Thundercloud with a pout.
“Dropped us outta hyperspace?” The large bot pondered as he moved to his seat.
“Yeah, any clues?”
“Yeah, the little blinking red light says emergency communication.” He smirks in Marker’s direction.
Her eyes narrowed and her teeth ground together.
“What kind of communication?”
“There’s only a few that are keyed to set the auto drop feature on the mains. It looks like some kind of critical emergency. Someone is stranded. The signal’s weak. I’m surprised we even picked it up.”
“Is it Destron?”
“Dunno, too far still, it just barely snagged us outta space.”
“Should we bother?” asks Marker.
Deadcircuit stepped through the doorway, “Destron code for warship captain 3.11.33.22.55.6 states that any emergency signal should be heeded, unless there is an overwhelming state of emergency at hand.”
“Like war?” you smirk.
“Acceptable, but we are not exactly on a time schedule.”
--Great, this is all I need… But
then again, we could probably use all the help we can get.—
Karil: a ruined Maximal school
--Hmm, Destron, eh?—
You carefully observe this newcomer for a few segments, before addressing it.
It was odd that it had chosen a beast form, but not unheard of. It was generally accepted that vehicle forms were the standard for Destron troops. Though there were rumors that the Destron Generals themselves had adopted beast-like modes over the years.
The destron, Shadowtooth, stands seemingly calm and relaxed, but your experience saw the signs of a trained warrior. His stance was deceptive, a relaxed look belying the ease with which it could be altered into a defensive stance. This one would have to be watch carefully.
"Shadowtooth, is it?" You make a scene of taking a look at the devastation around you. Of course, you’ve seen worse. You've been part of worse. It's more of a cover for the scan you perform, to see if there are any others in hiding.
Your sensors read nil, and you continue, “How long have you
been here?"
“Long enough.”
His short reply revealed nothing, and that didn’t sit well with you.
“My name is…”
“You’re name is Spectre, captain of the Medusae. I know your history, and I know where you are headed.”
Now you were really starting to dislike this, “How do…”
“That is not important, but if you check my security clearance you will see that I am perfectly capable of attaining such knowledge. For now, I require a ride off of this dead rock, and you have thankfully replied to the distress signal from my ship. Or from what is left of my ship.”
A hot wind blows across the ruins, seeming to match the fire in your spark at such treatment.
“Who attacked here?”
“The Decepticons.”
Your anger is momentarily forgotten, displaced by the sudden shock of realizing that your suspicions might actually be true.
The Marker and Stormcloud looked at each other and back at you, but you kept your face as impassive as possible, “Decepticons? Surely you must be…”
“I assure you they were Decepticons. If you doubt my word, we can stop by the two that are in stasis on the way to where we need to collect the other s of my group.”
--Stasis?!?
Decepticons HERE!?!?—
By now, there was a small report flashing across your optics that Deadcircuit was transmitting. It seemed that this Shadowtooth had a rather impressive ranking indeed. His security clearance was complete, with levels higher than yourself! You decide to play the loyal Destron and dothings by the book.
“Very well, Shadowtooth. Then our first priority is to get you and your crew collected, but I believe that it would be in the best interests of the Destron Council that we gather these… Decepticons. Something may be gleaned from them that may prove useful on the fleets return to Cybertron.”
“Agreed.”
The Destron transformed and pounced off into the shadows, apparently you were to follow.
You turn to the others, “I’m still not sure of the situation here, but if what he said is true… then we must be very careful on how we deal with him. If the Decepticon’s are back, then we can’t trust anything, or anyone. Understood?”
The two nod their heads. You turn and move off to follow the Destron cat.
The ship was just outside of the School’s walls. It had severe burns along it’s hull, and the front was damaged from a sudden crash landing. Nothing had been done to it, so apparently whoever these Destron’s were, they weren’t talented in the engineering department. You had seen Deadcircuit and Stormcloud hammer together ships that were in far worse repair than this, but still, that would take time, and time you did not have.
Shadowtooth was wating in the doorway, sitting in feline mode, with his skull-like and sabre-toothed head hanging low and hunched over in a manner that seemed deadly in it’s very style.
You keep scanning and immediately pick up the emergency signal as well as two sparks within the shuttle.
“So, “ You start, looking up at the silent cat, “Why don’t they come out.”
As he speaks, your sensors lock onto the truth and confirm his words, “I am afraid they are unable. They did not survive the attack as complete as I did.”
Sure enough the sparks were registering low emission patterns. They were in stasis.
“Very well.” You signal to Marker to stay put, and for Stormcloud to follow you up the ramp.
The interior was dark and unlit. No power seemed to be running anywhere, except for a small blinking coming from somewhere foreward. That would be the radio unit. They were set to run off of an emergency power cell in case of a dead main cell.
You nearly trip over the bodies as your VR scanners take over.
The room around you is recreated in your CPU as clear as if it was daylight through your VR circuitry. Stormcloud would be handling it differently, relying on his sensor array to guide him.
Both of you lock onto the two deactivated bodies on the floor. Both had bad char marks on their armor, and gaping wounds that had only been partially stabilized. One was very similar to Shaowtooth, only his skeleton was a deep, blood red color and he bore a translucent golden body under that. The other one was some kind of reptilian skeleton bird from the looks. His body had a green skeleton, and his torn wing membranes were almost peach-colored.
You nodd to Stormcloud who easily picks up both of them, then to Shadowtooth, “Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Did the Decepticons do this?”
There was a pause, “Yes.”
You didn’t like that pause, there was something else. But perhaps now wasn’t the time, “Stormcloud, lock our position and move the ship here. We’ve got to bodies for CR.”
“Affirmative.”
You move back to the doorway and look down at the cat, “I also wish to take a look at the museam that this school once contained.”
The Destron’s eyes flash briefly in what may have been irritation, but they duled back as it swung it’s head to look out the doorway, “Sight seeing, Captain. I do not believe this is the time…”
Your turn to interrupt, “I believe there may be something useful there to our mission. Might I remind you that I am Captain of the ship and do have authority to investigate as I see fit?”
“Indeed. Then explore if you wish, I shall see to my fellow Destrons.”
You nodd as you hear the engines of the Medusae roar in the skies far above the school outside.
Karil: A Maximal School
“Marker, escort Shadowtooth to the
ship, Thundercloud, help carried his wounded comrades. Get those two into CR ASAP. Meanwhile,
Shadowtooth, I want you to log a full report on what has happened here,
to the best of your knowledge. Once
those two are in CR I want you to transmit the coordinates of the two
bodies. I’m staying down here to
investigate the museum, and I’ll go by and check them out to see how it would
be the best way to transport them safely, and to assess if there is any danger
to my ship or crew.”
Marker nods and transforms. Thundercloud was already in helicopter mode and had the two Destrons clamped in so he could carry them. Shadowtooth looked at you for a second longer, as if contemplating something, before transforming and bounding off into the shadows after Marker.
You turn and begin to make your way toward where the museum would be located. As you walk, you start rolling thought over in your head.
Shadowtooth, something about him wasn’t settling well with you. There was an incompleteness to his story, and the pause after you asked him about the Decepticon’s being responsible for his crewmate’s damage…
Too many possibilities could lead to this…
One, he could be telling the truth, and didn’t want to admit it. Very likely, who enjoys admitting defeat, but you had to wonder why he wasn’t scrap also.
Two, maybe he was lying, maybe he was in fact responsible for their states…
This one had some disturbing connotations. If he was lying and he was responsible… maybe even himself a Decepticon…
“Deadcircuit.” You activate a heavily encrypted channel to the ship.
“Yes captain.”
“Keep a close watch on Shadowtooth. Something about him bothers me. Report anything unusual to me immediately.”
“Affirmative.”
--And he will. If there’s anything Deadcircuit is good at
it’s observation and detail. He’ll even
tell me if the damn cat trips over the rubble.—
You sigh, it would probably mean cycles of trying to figure out what was and wasn’t important in Deadcircuit’s report, and hopefully didn’t lead to a call every five segments.
If the later possibility was true, and Shadowtooth was responsible, then part of his version of ‘seeing too’ could include memory deletion from his fellow Destron’s CPU’s. In fact he could have already done that…
No, you correct yourself, if Shadowtooth had that much technical knowledge, the he probably could have done some amount of work on this ship and get it running again. More likely he would need a CR chamber to effect any changes for him. If that’s so, then he’ll have to do it while they were on the ship. If they come out of CR without interference, then the probability of his involvement will be greatly decreased.
Another option came to your head, that the presence of the Decepticon’s here was completely unrelated to their damage. But what would have scrapped them then…
You turn your thoughts to the Decepticons…
--Decepticons... I was right.
It's one thing to believe something, and another to know it to be true. And it
really does make all the difference...—
Soon, you found yourself at the end of a long tunnel that led to the underground museum entry. Char marks and rubble had marked the passage up to this point, and here, large slabs of metal lay fallen down in from of the doorway.
There was just enough room to crawl through though, so you carefully picked you way across the rubble, trying not to disturb the rocks any more than need be.
As you step down on the other side, your foot crunches on the ground rubble of the dusty chamber. The smell of stale smoke and fire hung heavily in the air.
The large chamber was lit by shafts of light that stabbed down from cracks that had been torn in the ceiling from the damage that had been caused here. Piles of rock and debris lay high, crushing most of what had once been on display, sending crushed crystal fragments glittering in small, explosive patterns across the floor. Partitioning ropes lay charred and strangled, reaching up out of the piles of metal and rock, as if they were plants reaching for the light.
You foot hits something and you look down.
A small data pad, no doubt one that was used by visitors to the museum to pull up information on the exhibits, lay on the dusty ground at your feet.
You reach down and scoop it up, it was not damaged severely, but the central power source that it had probably run off of was no longer active. You pull some wires from your hip and jack into the small device. Immediately it’s screen flared to life, but at first all it scrolled through was a chaotic jumble of symbols and letters. You ran a quick defrag on the system and it cleared up considerable.
You access the main catalog. The list started scrolling past with lightning speed as you sat and scanned through it.
Then something caught your optic. You scrolled back a short distance to make sure you saw correctly.
There it was, Exhibit 200314-A : Unicron’s Horn.
You plopped down heavily outside as you reached the end of the tunnel that led down into the museum.
Your mind was still flaring the vivid picture of the massive war ship that hovered over Cybertron. The one long horn on its crown, proudly displaying the power and fear that Unicron had once held over the galaxy.
The horn was apparently brought here after the head was destroyed some time ago. It was meant to be a warning to the students here of what might have happened had they not pulled together to destroy him.
That was it then… why the Decepticons had attacked here. But surely they weren’t mad enough to link the horn to any power systems.
But images of mad leaders past flash through your head. If someone had thought that it could bring them power…
The datapad dropped limply from your hand, bringing you back to the present. You stood and shook yourself. The coordinates for the Decepticon bodies had been sent to you while you were down below, and this would be a good time to take a look at them.
The bodies were not hard to find. The first two were near each other, and were enormous.
The first was nearly four or five times the size of Thundercloud, and he was twice your size!
You move to where it lay on it’s back, crushing several small building beneath it.
It had fallen from a neck wound, a rather nasty gash that lay bare the wires underneath. They dangled out in a severed mess, a drying pool of mech fluid underneath.
You look closer at the wound. It was impressive. Whoever did it used one slice, from a regular blade. There were no burn marks, other than some that were caused by the explosion that undoubtedly followed that would signify a laser sword or thermal blade.
It perfectly severed the data relays that sent information to and from the spark and CPU. He would have immediately shut down with no transfer of data.
The blade had only been maybe one and a half meters long, judging from the cut depth.
You moved on to the next victim. He was only about three quarters the size of the first. Both were in robot mode, and both clearly had Decepticon insignia on them. They also both were rather gaudily colored, and had portions that had scales on them.
This one had received a rather sharp blow to the head… from a rather large tower.
The tower had toppled over onto the bot, and still the crumbled blocks lay pressing down on the body. From the looks of it, he had probably gone into stasis after the tower hit and crushed the connections from his sparks motor relays. It probably tried to push out more and more energy trying to force the body to stand until it was nearly drained. A quick scan showed that the assumption was probably correct. The energy levels were at a drastic minimum, and left alone, the spark would probably fade out of existence.
The tower had hit him perfectly, almost too perfectly. You move to the base of the tower and investigate it a little more carefully.
Sure enough, the tower fell after a small cut was made at its base. A perfect slice that had hit a weak point at just the right place and with just enough force to send the tower in exactly the right direction.
Whoever did this was a master of his weapon, and of tactics. They were experiences, and deadly.
The final robot was a short distance away. He was in beast mode, also gaudily colored, and was a mix between a bird and a lizard.
The birds head was smashed in, dried fluids cracked as you lifted it up to look at the wound.
It was different that the other two. This was a heavy blunt object, and there were char marks that signified that the weapon was probably charged. Residual energy traces backed that theory. So whoever did this used some kind of energy club, mace, or hammer.
As you stood there was one other nagging problem that was festering in the back of your head.
Why did the damage on these units postdate the damage to the outpost… by over five weeks!
Karil: A ruined Maximal School
You sit
down on a pile of rubble and mull over the current situation.
--So, it was the horn they were after. Not that it's too
surprising, after what I saw. Nice to know where they got it from. It would be nicer
to know whether it's currently operational--but we can't have everything.
Assume the worst: they've got it working but don't know how to use it properly.
But these three--here the mystery deepens. They couldn't
have been involved in the theft, they're too recent... which means, at best,
Shadowtooth, forgot a few details. It should be... interesting... to read his
report.
The damage done to these 'cons is quite impressive.
Someone who knows what he's doing. I've got to see what kind of weaponry
Shadowtooth and the other Destron have... see if they have blades that could
have caused these wounds... or toppled the tower. I'm beginning to think a
third party may have been involved. And who or what caused the damage to the
third unit? That power bashing was
considerably different than the blade… and it woulda had to come from someone
stronger that any of the three Destrons appears to be physically… Of course appearances can be deceiving.—
For
the moment, You decide to keep the 'Cons offline, as you doubt you could come
up with a plausible reason to activate them.
--I
suppose the bot that cushioned the tower's fall could be of some use. Patch him up to bare minimum under the guise
of interrogation. After all, he'll be
more pliable at low energy levels. I will want to hear their side of the story,
eventually. When it is appropriate.—
With the way things are going, you definitely need to make a few… modifications… to the ship and it’s programming. Increase security around me personal quarters, extra encryption on important data, alter access codes.
--If I loose control of my crew, for any reason, I will
not loose control of my ship!--
With the way things are going, I think I'm going to need to make a few
Of course, not being a
programmer, those will be rather difficult changes to make, not to mention
considerable planning to put into effect.
Perhaps you can get Deadcircuit to do some of it under guise of being
wary of any opportunistic Decepticons…
--Yeah,
that’d work. He can lay in the fine
coding and I can finish it on the higher levels. It’d sound good, and make sense.
I bet the bastard could even find a regulation to quote on ‘protecting
the ship and it’s resources when carting really bad robots’.—
You smile to yourself. Time to return to the ship.
“Deadcircuit.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Bring the ship to my coordinate. We have some bodies to dig out.”
A few megacycles later, the ship was loaded with the three Decepticon carcasses, and the Medusae lifted back out of Karil’s atmosphere.
When asked, you merely stated that the museum was a wreck, and nothing worthwhile could be found. No need to cause more anxiety among the crew for the time.
Deadcircuit seemed to have nothing to report about Shadowtooth’s activity. The other two were in CR and would be there for some time, and you asked Deadcircuit to monitor the activity there and make sure they aren’t tampered with.
You settled down in your quarters to scan Shadowtooth’s report.
The quick version of it was that he and his fellow Destrons came to Karil on a mission… the report did not state the nature of the mission… and found the base destroyed, and all it’s inhabitants off-line. The three Decepticon’s attacked them, and were finally dispatched by Shadowtooth, after his comrades fell fighting the massive robots.
There was no logic flaw. He reported simply and clearly. It even fits in with the later damage.
But not with type of damage that took them offline.
A thought occurs to you and you tap up the CR chamber controls. You access a scan of weapon systems on the two robots.
Primary weapons that would fit into the realm of melee type weapons included a boomerang-like weapon on the pterodactyl bot and a whip weapon on the cat-bot. Neither was bashing, but the boomerang was bladed. Problem with that is it was only maybe a meter from wingtip to wingtip. And a spinning blade would have made a different cut, a more circular cut than what had caused the damage on the Decepticons.
You turn off the monitor and sit back.
--Of
course, maybe Shadowtooth has a sword and a hammer somewhere in the scrawny
black but of his.—
But the other two seemed to be lighter, more skilled robots. They weren’t tooled for brawn, but rather for…
--For
what. What kind of team were they? Light, fast, skilled… and the one that is
left active is stealthy…--
Their group started falling into a class that made you even more confused. They would almost seem to be some kind of espionage group. Of course, you couldn’t be sure of that unless you knew Shadowtooth’s other abilities. The red cat seemed to be a warrior, and the bird a scout. But they were both lightweight and their weaponry assumed a more direct, more restrained form of attacks.
--Definitely espionage… or… assassins?!?—
The thought sent a chill down your spine, and something in you knew you had found the answer.
--Why
would assassins be on this backwater school.
And what kind of assassin has as high a level of security clearance as
Shadowtooth!?—
There were some disturbing connotations.
Shortly you find yourself down below, where the Decepticons were kept in the ship’s dark hold, pondering over how best to justify reactivating them. You already had asked Deadcircuit to start in on the coding for the computers. He said it’d be a solar cycle until it was ready for you to take over the work.
You only hoped that it was quick enough.
You didn’t dare activate them until the commands were encrypted. To do otherwise would undermine your excuses for the work. But you itched to know what they planned.
A soft, sibilant voice broke the stillness in the cargo hold, “Remembering the past, Captain?”
You spin to see the feline form of Shadowtooth sitting not four meters from you. The translucent blue interior portions began to glow softly underneath the steel colored skeleton.
You recover your composure, “Merely wondering about the future.”
“Yours or theirs?”
Your eyes narrow.
Your mind screams in a sudden outburst of hysteria, --He
knows!!!—
You control it, “All of ours. And what roll exactly do you play in all this?” you snap.
“Why, what difference does it make.” The cat stretches, the silhouette of his skeleton reflecting eerily in shadows across the walls.
“It makes a difference to me and my crew. You’re holding something back, something that could put my ship in jeopardy.”
“And that is at my discretion. Be careful where you tread, Captain. I have friends in far higher places than…”
“You HAD friends. Or might I remind you that the signal that has been sent out was originated from a CYBERTRON ship. The Destron Generals may no longer exist!”
The cat’s eyes widened for a second at this outburst, but it faded as soon as it appeared, “And if they did not.”
--He keeps testing…--
“Then command falls to the highest…”
“Left alive.” He whispers.
There was a moment of silence, while you both stood staring at each other. Fears of the past and future swelling around you in a silence dance through the suddenly stifling darkness of the ship’s hold.
“Why were you on the planet.”
“Merely to survey.” The cat stands and turns toward the doors.
“Who else was there!”
He stops and looks back eyes narrowed, “Just a walking corpse.” With that, he melted into the darkness.
The Medusae
In the dark silence of the room, you stand, fuming.
--A walking corpse?!?
What the slag does he mean by that? –
Obviously a target... someone he either killed on the surface or was supposed to kill, and failed. It's settled, you do NOT like Shadowtooth.
Slinking around, condescending tones, and always that feeling that he knew everything he wasn’t!
--Calm,
I must remain calm. I do not like being taken unawares. And he's right, I must be careful. –
There was something else that bothered you, the way he echoed your sentence...’ the highest left alive’ ... He couldn't be that high... could he?
At any rate, he knew who you were, and what you were. The question you now faced was what would he do about it. Surely he will be watching you as closely as you are watching him.
--And so I must follow
the path that has been set; follow orders and codes, but not such that I appear to be lapping at his boots.
Everything rests on proper presentation.—
Will he tell your crew? Assuming that they do not already know. You don’t think he would be willing to give away a card like that so easily. At least, not before it can be played more seriously to your disadvantage.
--But I do not know
enough about him to know for sure.—
--He
doesn’t give me enough credit, none of them do. If they did they wouldn’t have let me out of imprisonment. --
You take a deep breath. You do not like to be talked down to, as if you didn’t know your job… or past. You realize that you may just be being oversensitive…
--But their
underestimation will be my shield.—
All that's left to do is watch and wait... at least until Deadcircuit has completed his tasks.
A few megacycles later you were present in the medlab when the hatches to the two CR chambers were popped open.
Shadowtooth was present, so was Marker… her gun close at hand.
With a hiss and a rush of steam the lids snapped up, first a jump while released, and then slowly, lifting all the way. Green lights blinked in coordination with blue and orange indicators, all of them giving the steamy clouds a surreal look as it rolled out and away from the silver chambers.
As the steam curled and danced, the pinprick spots of two set of optics could be seem in the haze.
The two Destrons stepped free of the swirling clouds, their skeletal bodies steaming with the heat from their rebuild.
They flexed and looked around. The one cat-like robot had dark, almost blood red bones covering a translucent interior, similar to Shadowtooth’s, that was golden. The Pterodactyl’s bones were lime green, and the interiors and wings were peach in color.
Their eyes locked on Shadowtooth, and the red cat spoke, “Ah, brother. The target?”
Shadowcat growls, eliciting a grimace from the red cat, “I see…”
With a flourishing sweeping motion he bowed low, “Captain. My name is Firecat, I am pleased to meet you, though I wish it would have been in better circumstances. This is my teammate Pterra. I assume that something has happened to our ship?”
“Yes, Shadowtooth sent out a distress signal to which we responded. It seems that… Decepticons’ wrecked your ship?”
“Ah, yes. Unfortunately I guess our battle was not quite in our favor then.”
He didn’t seem to flinch at the story, but the bird-bot… something in his expression. A momentary flash of confusion seemed to pass over his features. It was gone in a segment, but you swear it had been there.
You continue, “My name is Captain Spectre of the Destron Defender Medusae. This is Marker, my pilot and gunner.”
“Pleased to meet you… both. I assume that we are headed back towards Cybertron?”
“No, Cybertron is under siege. We are heading towards a rendezvous point in an uncharted system.”
Firecat grimaces, “Indeed. And by whose orders?”
“It was a General Council communication.”
“Sent by a Maximal ship.” Adds Shadowtooth.
“I see, then there is little to do until we reach our situation… Perhaps you or your pilot would be willing to give us a tour around the ship? After all, we are more than relaxed after a week of stasis lock…”
There was something you definitely did not trust in this one. Even more dangerous than Shadowtooth, Firecat seemed too open, his smile seemed to be too friendly. His attitude and smile seemed to be a façade of suave and sophistication.
Somehow, you feel that you had released more trouble in fixing up these two new Destrons than you bargained for...
The
Medusae
"Firecat, I would be delighted."
--There. That sounded about right, civil,
polite, and helpful. I'd much rather keep an eye on them myself, at least for the
moment. It should be interesting. Firecat's ‘friendlier’ persona is obviously
meant to play off of Shadowtooth's darker one. Perhaps meant to put others more
at ease... not an uncommon ploy. But seeing as how I am familiar with it, it
will not do them much good. That doesn't mean I can't pretend. So, I will
behave more favorably towards Firecat so long as he continues with his facade.
I'm sure the invasive questions will start soon after... nothing obvious, of
course, but meant to extract information once a bot's guard is down. Well, we
won't have any of that.—
You motion for the others to follow you out of the med lab, scrutinizing each as you go. Shadowtooth seems, uninterested, in taking a tour as he merely seems to dissipate into the shadows once out in the hallway. You look at the other two though, Firecat, red and gold, a gleaming saber-toothed skull perched over his head, and Pterra, green and peach colored with his wings folded up behind him.
--Judging by Pterra's reaction earlier, I
believe my assumption of the presence of a third party to be correct. I should
watch Pterra's reactions closely; Firecat however, seemed to be unfazed by the
assertion.—
You realize the scrutiny you’re going to be under... which means there can be no mistakes. You are all playing the same game, essentially.
--Yes, this should be
very interesting.—
For the most part the tour was pretty basic. The newly rebuilt Destron’s seemed to already be fairly knowledgeable on the design and specifications of a Destron Defender Class, and you didn’t feel obliged to point out any real modifications that you had done to it.
Mostly, you pointed out the atypical areas and Firecat continually complimented and flattered you on how well kept the Medusae is. He was definitely possessed of a silver tongue, and if you weren’t so conscious of yourself and your situation…
You also played them the looped signal that you had received last week, leading you and your crew to head toward the current rendezvous point.
They had both listened intently to the transmission, but only Pterra had shown any true reaction. You noticed the whole time that his taloned hands flexed, as if he wanted to rip someone’s processors out.
Firecat merely sighed, “Then your decision to turn this ship toward the rendezvous point was the right one. I am only glad that you decided to respond to Shadowtooth’s distress signal when you did. Otherwise, we might have been stranded, and off-line, for quite some time. “
“Yes, those Decepticon’s seem to have done quite a number on you and your crew. I can’t help but wonder why they were still there by the time you reached Karil…”
“Who knows, insane scavengers. The Decepticons may have left the beasts there instead of trying to figure out a way to pick them up. The grouping had the collective intelligence of a Sharkticon."
--Yet they seemed adept at trouncing you!—
“Perhaps we can learn more when we bring one of their CPU’s back on-line.”
Pterra jumped at that, “What? You can’t be serious. You have their CPU’s HERE?!?”
Firecat held his hand up, “You brought them aboard for interrogation?”
“Yes, they’re quite inactive, and we should be able to activate their core consciousness without risking any…”
He interrupts you, “I understand your reasons, but I fear that it may not be the best course of action, at least not at this moment. What if one of them manages to turn the table and gains access to your ships computer banks, or even something as simple as create a transmission of some kind. You could be putting us all in jeopardy.”
“They need proper questioning.” You restate.
“Yes, but perhaps we should wait until we reach the rendezvous. Surely we will have more stable facilities in which to safely interrogate your prisoners.”
“Perhaps.”
--I doubt it, and why so certain that it’s a bad idea… Let’s play his game…--
“Yeah, perhaps your right Firecat. Maybe it is a bad idea to activate one of them. If they were powerful enough to stop your team, then who knows what damage they may cause. Yes, your idea to wait is definitely the wiser choice.”
“I’m glad you see it my way. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we should go and see if Shadowtooth has anything to say…”
“Yeah, especially about wreckin’ the ship.” Pterra mumbles, eliciting a sharp glance from Firecat.
“Please, I need to be about my duties at any rate. But I’ve definitely enjoyed talking to you… both.” You give a short bow and leave the duo standing in the hallway…
The Medusae: Hyperspace
You leave, your mind roiling with
more questions. The way Firecat acted,
all in all, it just gives you more reason to activate the prisoners.
But for the moment, you’ll play along with Firecat.
--I want the information they have, but I
can wait until it is more... political to access it. I will keep the option open.—
They way Pterra was acting... Conflict, even minor conflict, within their ranks could be advantageous. It might loosen their tongues, but that wasn't something to plan on. It would give them something else to think about.
--Even that might be too much to hope
for, though. It depends on how well they know each other and how well they work
together, among countless other variables. Wait, watch, and see.—
You go about your rounds, checking up on the crewmembers. They were all busy about their jobs and best left alone.
Except for Deadcircuit. He had some information…
He was working on the engines below when you found him, “Spectre, I found something out that you may wish to know.”
You hated when he decided to leave off your title, and knew that he did it because he did not consider you worthy of it. For now though, you let it pass.
“What is it?”
“The team that we have picked up. I’ve… found out who they are.”
“And?”
“The team is a collection of Destron assassins that are used exclusively by the Destron Generals themselves. There is of course, no mention of their missions, however they were highly prized by the Generals and practically thought to be a rumor.”
-- Assassins? What the slag were assassins doing at a dead
school?--
“Why tell me this?”
“Wartime regulation 4.25.34.25.1. A captain must know all available information at all times about crew and passengers.”
There he goes, quoting again.
“It’s good to know you care.”
His eyes narrow as he glares at you.
“Actually, thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”
You turn to leave.
“Spectre.”
You turn back.
“They were only rumored to be used to assassinate other Destrons.”
You make it a point to spend quite some time tweaking the security measures around your quarters.
--Two solar cycles
until we hit the rendezvous point.—
Two more solar cycles to keep your hide intact until you can dump those three off. Still, it bothered you that you couldn’t find out why they were on Karil. Who were they hunting?
If they weren’t there to find out about the museum, everyone else was dead, and they weren’t there to kill Decepticons… All the more proof that there was someone else there.
And if the someone escaped… why should it even matter to you?
--Because
they couldn’t. If they were Destron,
they’d get the same message we got. The
same rendezvous point.—
That meant that they may already be at wherever this rendezvous point was. And if that were true, then…
--We’re just being used
to complete a mission!!—
The Medusae
As you walk away, many things parade through your CPU. Flatline has given you some very useful information, and reminded you of a regulation that could be used to your advantage. All this would excuse his haughty disposition toward you. It was no secret that he thought you didn’t deserve command. He had always regarded you as incompetent, ever since you took command.
Regardless, the Destron team was apparently powerful, and it wouldn’t be smart to cross them, at least not overtly.
But who were they after on that planet?
If they did fail their
mission, which it seemed obvious at this point that they had, they would
definitely be gunning for them wherever you went. That could cause problems.
Hopefully they were smart enough to realize that firing on a Destron
ship might not be the smartest thing to do, and that it wasn’t likely that the
Destron target would even expect them to be on board this ship. If so, then it may be possible to ship them
off without incident. Otherwise… the thought of attacking one Destron ship
out of possibly four or five gathered wasn’t an appealing ideal.
You will have to make sure that you are in complete control at the rendezvous point. If there are multiple warships present, it shouldn’t be hard to get the crew to ignore the Destron’s commands. If there are only two ships, then you will point out that the wreckage might alert other ships that will soon arrive.
--As to the Decepticons... they may know
who my guests were attacking, but are unlikely to know the reason why. Still,
they DO have information about the Decepticon movement, and that interests
me... greatly. --
You only have two days.
You head back to your quarters, putting
the finishing touches on your lock down system in case of a mutiny. You look it
over proudly afterwards. Even
Deadcircuit would have a problem hacking through it. And it would definitely take him time to do so.
--Speaking of…--
You check the codes to make sure that he
did not give himself more access than he should have. You find nothing out of the ordinary, so, pleased, you activate
the new security consol.
--I must have all available information
about all passengers. Then I'm going to have to talk with those Decepticons.
They are prisoners, but in a sense, still passengers. Ah, the letter of the
law, much more flexible than its spirit.—
“Deadcircuit.” You activate the com.
His picture appears on a screen on the wall, “Yes?”
“If I were to question the prisoners, could we patch the
signal so that I can access their core consciousness from here? Without jeopardizing any systems?”
“You must have a direct cable and a stand alone unit, and
then you will be safe.”
“Ok, let’s do it then.
Run a line to my room and set me up a field unit. I think it’s time I learned everything
possible from our ‘passengers’.”
“Affirmative.”
The screen blanked out.
To give him time, you decide to go for a short stroll. It had seemed like Firecat had wanted to say
more every time he was around, but didn’t with the others present. It was time you set up an ‘accidental’
meeting, alone.
You chose someplace where a fight would be heard. It was fairly near the bridge, and you
monitored him to make sure he was going past there.
You time it and come around the corner, just as he reaches
the junction.
“Oh, Firecat! I
assume that your accommodations are to your liking?”
“Yes Captain,” he says with a small bow, “My team seems to
be in top shape thanks to your excellent care.”
“Have you made any more determinations on what you will do
once we reach the rendezvous?”
“Yes, we have some unfinished business that we must attend
to immediately.”
“Business? Even
though there may be no Council left?”
“Yes, we must see something to its end. But it shouldn’t be a bother to you or your
crew.”
“If you need anything, let us know. We’d be more than willing to help you tie up
any problems you may have.”
“Indeed. As a matter
of fact maybe you could help us. Tell
me Spectre, why are you Captain on this ship?”
The question caught you offguard, “What?”
“Why are you, and ex-Decepticon captain of a Destron
warship?”
--Well, there’s an affirmation on the extent of his
knowledge.—
“Look, I’m Destron now…”
“Yes, yes, you’ve quite proven that, haven’t you?”
“I…”
“What I mean is that surely you realize that your position
may cause problems when we get to a rendezvous point in a time of war? The Decepticon banner hold a lot of fears
for people, and they may treat you… differently when it comes to war time trust.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Perhaps you should consider your options?”
“Options?”
“Join with me and the others, let them reassign your
ship. As part of our group, you will be
above their suspicions. Or… you could
just give us command of your ship to allay their unease?”
You stare at him agape for a segment before he finishes.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect a decision now, but it is
something you may want to consider carefully.
After all, if you join us, you will be joining the highest squad of
firestormers on Cybertron.”
He give a flourishing bow and walks off.
Rage began to tremble through your frame.
-
-How DARE he!!!—
At the same moment, a part of you cries out… to be an
assassin. The simplicity of anonymous
hits and the power of the shroud of mystery combined to add to an air of
absolute power, the power of life and death.
You shake off the thought and head back to your quarters.
Shortly, Deadcircuit appeared at your door. He had a small portable hand held unit,
merely a flat datapad. The back of it
hung down and some wires dangled loose.
“What’s this?”
“I took the precaution of removing the scanner systems from
it. This pad can only receive direct
link data now. There is no way to send
or receive signals. That will keep the
rest of the ship safe while you question him.”
“Excellent.” You can never fault him for being thorough.
He then leans over and removes a panel from the wall of your
quarters. Out rolls a small drone on
wheels. Attached to it was a thick
cable with a connecter port for the datapad.
He picks up the drone and the cord and detaches them. Handing you the cord.
“It is set. His
spark is connected directly to this.
You should be able to access him without any problems.”
“And you used the one that was crushed by the tower, right?”
“Correct. Even if
the energy feed his is getting got increased a hundred fold, he would just dump
excess energy into trying to move, and likely end up in frying himself in the
process.”
“Excellent. Thank
you Deadcircuit.” You dismiss the
bot. He turns and leaves without a
word.
You activate the uplink.
At first static just clouds the small pad, but then it resolves into a
robotic head.
“Activating core consciousness. Unit Sparkstalker.”
“Huhn… what…? What
the… Hey! Where’s my slaggin’ body!”
“Sparkstalker. You
are offline and onboard the ship Medusae.
I am its Captain, Spectre. You
are critically injured and my prisoner.”
“Argh! What do you
want!?”
“I want to know what happened down there.”
“Down there? On
Karil?”
“Yes down there.”
“And what do I get if I tell you?”
“You might survive to fight again one day.”
The robot face appears to think about this tentatively for a
few segments, “Well, ok.”
“Now, what happened?
Why were you there?”
“We were sent down by Clench to destroy anything
Cybertronian on the planet.”
“And who exactly were you looking for?”
“We weren’t told.
Just told to kill everything!”
“And what fought back?”
“This crummy Maximal and his buddies.”
“Maximal?”
“Yeah, a little black mutant kitty. He was fast, and somehow knew just how to
attack.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve never had a tower aimed at me like that. He just sliced it and it fell, boom. Like he had built the slaggin’ thing.”
“What was his name?”
“Uhm… I think he yelled Lightslayer when he transformed
once.”
“And who else was there.”
“I’m not sure. I
know that I saw a small red car. A
Cybertronian. We nailed him as he came
out of the museum. Then there was a
bigger black car. He had a flight mode,
and thought it’d be cute to smash into Cindersaur’s chest. I lost track of him while we were fighting
with the others. He was a Destron, I
think.”
“So, wait, did you ever even fight any Destrons?”
“No, just the Maximal.
At least I didn’t. I can’t speak
for Flamefeather though. He followed
the car and probably fought with him.
Guess he lost though.”
“Guess so.”
You click off the pad, figuring that you’d learn all you
could from him. “Deadcircuit.”
“
Yes?”
“Reatach me to the one with feathers.”
“Affirmative.”
The Medusae
The image on the monitor shifts and changes into a different face, “Hrmmm… head… ow…”
“Deceptcon.”
“OW! Name’s Flamefeather and you don’t have to sh… What the… what’s going on?!?”
“My name is Captain Spectre, and you are in stasis lock and prisoner on board the Destron Defender The Medusae.”
“Aww… Slag, you mean that little slagknocker had more friends?!”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Your friend said that there was another robot, a Destron that you fought. Who was he?”
“I dunno, someone with that cat the boss wanted dead.”
“What was his name.”
“Bite.”
“You want to stay deactivated forever?”
“Ok, ok, no real secret I guess at any rate, he said his name was Zabgoth.”
“Zabgoth?”
“Yeah, know him?”
“No.”
“Well, wasn’t this informative.”
“Hmm. At least I can say you were coopartative. So long.”
“Hey! Wait… let’s talk some more! I don’t wan…”
“You wanna keep talking? Tell me who’s running the Deceptcons?”
“Clench. At least for now. Megatron is returning and he’ll hand over the reigns to him when he comes.”
“Megatron?!? Have you lost it?”
“No! Really, Soundwave and Clench located him, they’re working on returning him to Cybertron.”
“How do you know they found him?”
“Uhm… they told us?”
“Why did they use the Horn?”
“As a nifty hood ornament... I don’t know! All I know is that he wanted that and…”
“And?”
“Nothin’.”
“Guess it’s beddy bye for you th…”
“No! wait, ok he wanted the horn and some components from the museum.”
“What for?”
“I dunno. Not really, but I hear he has a huge weapon he’s building for the Warworld.”
“What kind of weapon?”
“Energy based. It’s rumored to be powerful enough to overload all of Cybertron!”
“Overload?”
“Yeah, I’m no scientist, but it sounds impossible to me too.”
“Hmm… anything else?”
“Uhm… No, but before you turn me back off…”
“What.”
“Well, could you at least get a technician to take some of the metal shards from my CPU? I’ve got a splitting hea…”
“I think about it.”
You cut off the transmission.
--So, Megatron’s returning? Not likely.
The gullible fools are following a trail of lies. They HAVE to be…--
Megatron was destroyed nearly four centuries ago, just before the Pax Cybertronia was forged. It was his destruction that led to the final demoralization of all Decepticons. There had been talk of Decepticons searching for his remains, but they were just rumors, and were long since forgotten about.
--Which still leads us
with Clench, a horn, and a rumor about a weapon.—
Obviously this Clench had deceived enough Decepticons into believing him, and he DID have the horn of Unicron to scare anyone that wanted to mess with him. The weapon though… to generate that amount of energy?
--Not likely.--
And what about this Maximal cat the Decepticons mentioned. Lightslayer. Why were they so insistent on killing him? And why were the Destron assassins sent after this Zabgoth.
More things crowded in on you, especially what Firecat had said to you earlier.
--The cat's right, damn him. In a war,
I'd be lucky if all I lost was my command. And this is fast becoming a war. Of
course, I can't be sure if he's telling the truth... but really, what have I
got to lose? –
You sigh, looking out at the starfield beyond the Medusae’s bow.
--And if he is... he offers power,
prestige, and the shield of anonymity. And, as he said, my roots would not be a
problem. –
You set your resolve…
--Let them reassign the
ship, a trade in for the future. I'll enjoy the work more, anyway.—
You reach over and activate the comm, “Firecat.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Let’s talk.”
Within cycles, at an almost dizzying pace, you find yourself on the bridge of the Medusae with the crew assembled. Firecat was speaking to them…
“… and due to the nature of the war we may be entering, your Captain has willingly accepted me as the new commander of this ship, effective immediately. Now you will return to your posts, we only have a solar cycle until we reach the rendezvous point, and I want to make sure that this ship is battle ready.”
Marker’s eyes glow, “Are we expecting a fight?”
The red and gold Destron smirked, “I don’t know what we’re expecting, but let’s be ready for anything.”
You left the bridge with Firecat and Pterra.
“Of course, you will be allowed to keep your current quarters, but the command codes for everything on the ship will be shifted to me. For now, I’m afraid there won’t be much for you to do. Consider it a day off, until we can set foot on solid ground.”
“What happens when we reach the rendezvous?”
“I suppose we’ll meet up with the rest of what remains from Cybertron and head back as an assault team. Of course, they will have to reassign someone for this ship.”
“And where will we go?”
“Back to work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see about the codes with Deadcircuit.”
He turns with Pterra and leaves you in the hallway.
--I don’t like this…
This is feeling way too much like a setup…I’ve been used…--
The Medusae
Your mind churns as you return to your quarters.
--I hate being used,
but, regardless of whether Firecat meant it to be so, his words still have the
stink of truth. There is little chance I could remain captain of this ship in
the event of a war with the Decepticons... and though I'd never admit it
openly, they would probably be wise to take such action.
--This
Clench has done a good job of deception. If enough people believe his story of
a returned Megatron... Well, I know a
lot of people who would have gladly given their lives in service to Megatron,
and many of those still would, myself included.
And after so long, the
desire to believe that he’s alive makes Clench's ruse powerful. But I doubt he
has the ability to keep it up. He is not Megatron. And Megatron can't be alive.
–
~Starscream survived.~
--No,
he can't be. Now, Soundwave's involvement is interesting--but I can't draw many
conclusions from it. Too many variables at work, and as for the creation of a
super-weapon... it's hardly surprising. I just hope they know what they're
doing.—
--That
leaves me with Lightslayer and Zabgoth. Names. Apparently, the cat is a superb
fighter, with a good dose of tactics thrown in. –
You’re not sure how much the Assasins would be willing to tell you, if anything, about the two. But you will have to try again over the remaining days to see.
You bring up your console and take a look to see how many controls codes you can salvage. Unfortunately, it appears the team does their homework. Your station was already locked out of the mains, even control over the defensive grid you had set up seemed to no longer be yours.
--And if that was true…
then they could scrap me at any moment!—
But why hadn’t they? You went over and lay down on the regeneration pad in your room.
“Computer, activate heavy war modules levels three and four.”
The computer began to do it’s work, reactivating long dormant sections of your anatomy.
--Three hundered years
of peace… Let’s hope I still remember how to use the better weapon systems…--
Two days pass, and little is learned from the Destrons. You do your best to appear useful, but there is little to do, and they seem to be under the impression that you were a relic, and unable to pose any serious threat to them. It grated on you constantly, but still, you remained calm and made sure that you were on the bridge as the ship dropped from hyperspace.
“Hyperspace fields are broken. We are now in normal space, near the outskirts of a small solar system. “Rascal reports.
You lean over her and read off the rest, “We’re heading for a small planet, third from the star. It’s showing up as Earth.”
“Earth?” Firecat asked, “I’m not familiar, is there any data on it?”
Rascal taps up a few commands on the pilot console, “Negative.”
You frown, “More than negative, there’s absolutely nothing. Not even mention of a system here. “ You knew you had not heard of the planet before…
The ships comm crackled with a transmission, “Greetings Medusae. This is Rapido. Welcome to Earth.”
The screen blinked on, and a picture of a red robot wearing an Autobot insignia appeared on the monitor.
--Autobot?!? They were disbanded at the same time…--
Firecat seemed to keep his composure a little more, “Greetings Rapido. What is the status here?”
“Well, we’re going to route your ship over to the Earth Moonbase. That’s where the bulk of the ships can be found. Beyond that, we’re still working on amassing the forces here. We’ve got a little over fifty percent now gathered.”
“And who is present?”
“Well, I’ll send you a ship roster, but beyond that we’ve got the Autobot and Decepticon cities up and running on the planet.”
“What?!” He blew that one.
Rapido smirked a bit, “Yeah, that’s the general reaction we get around here. There is a second branch of Decepticons here on Earth. They are helping us in the return and reclaim of Cybertron from the Decepticons there.”
You couldn’t help it, “Who is in charge of the Decepticons on Earth?”
“That’d be old Megatron himself.”
Your mind went blank, and shock suffused your frame completely.
The Medusae
--Don’t
react outwardly!! Don’t show
reaction!!—
Megatron! Impossible!
--Keep
composure, don’t say anything… let Firecat react…--
“Megatron?” You could hear Firecat’s voice ask. It sounded millions of kilometers away…
“Yes, Megatron. We found him here and revived him, not knowing who he was of course. He doesn’t like the thought of some other maniacs posing as Decepticons and was first to volunteer to return and show them what a united Cybertronia can accomplish.
“Indeed. Where are we to land then?”
“Moonbase. I’ve sent your nav the coordinates. We are asking that you retain your ship quarters so we don’t get overcrowded, but you may have the run of the base or of Earth if you wish. There are two shuttles a day transporting between the two.”
“Thanks, and you will send me that roster, yes.”
“You got it. Rapido out.”
Firecat looks over at Pterra, “Did you get the roster?”
--The
ROSTER!?!? What’s so sparking special
about the ROSTER?!?—
“Yes, it appear The Deathmonger is…”
A sharp look from Firecat stilled the green robot who shut up immediately.
“Transfer to my quarters, Shadowtooth and you will meet me there.”
You speak up, “And me?”
“You can stay and land the ship.” They stride from the bridge.
You turn, “Marker, bring up that roster.”
“What?”
“The roster, bring it up.” You say impatiently.
“I thought we were landing the ship.”
“Marker…” you realize that you can’t command her to, not anymore…”please, bring up the roster.”
She shrugs and taps a control, the roster flashes up. There are a collection of Explorers and Defenders, and even a Predicon Hunter ship. Among them was a small shuttle registered as ‘Deathmonger.’
“There, who’s the crew of the Deathmonger.”
It sublines out to two robots, Flatline and Hubcap.
“Do we have any information on them?”
“Yeah, they’re registered.” The screen changes to show two different car Cybertrons. One is short and red, the other thick and black. Their weapons list out.
“Not a sword or a hammer among them…”
` “What?”
“Nothing…” you think for a segment, “Are their any bots not registered to an incoming ship or previous land personnel?”
“Jeez, aren’t we nosy?”
“Please?”
“Yeah, three. Two are called Zabgoth and Lightslayer… hmmmm, pretty good, looks like they came in on the Deathmonger as passengers.”
“Info on them?”
“Yeah, Zabgoth is a Destron, but there’s nothing on a ‘Lightslayer’.”
“Show me Zabgoth.” Another car bot, but this one was tall and lanky and wore a skull like, demonic face. His weapon of choice was a hammer.
--Bingo…
so I’ve found their target.—
“Where are these bots?”
“According to the computer they’re AWOL.”
--Great,
that means the cat’s search will continue.—
“Prepare docking procedures.”
--So, the cats think I’m a relic,
eh? I’ll just use that to m y
advantage. I can’t believe Megatron is
really here, not until I see him with my own optics... Earth… Why does that name sound vaguely
familiar?—
Shortly the Medusae is docked into a hanger area that floats casually above a dead rock of a satellite. The ‘Moon’s’ surface was covered entirely in a powdery ash and giant craters speckled its surface.
Directly below the docking ring sat a base made of fat, rounded metallic modules. It was fairly large, which was good, considering you seemed to be about the tenth ship to dock here.
A small shuttle linked in with you to transport you down to the ship proper. Firecat and his cronies were nowhere to be seen, but you, Rascal, and Thundercloud headed down. Deadcircuit elected to stay behind and work on some engine tests.
The base below was abuzz with bots running back and forth. Scattered among them were small, flesh-based units, dressed mostly in white uniforms or technician coveralls. There was a league of small personal shuttles on the main landing deck. Some were Cybertronian in origin, but others, like yours, were of an alien technology.
A heavy set Maximal trundles up to you. His coat was dark and shaggy, and on his shoulder sat a bull’s head. He held a datapad in one thick-fingered hand, “You from the Medusae?”
“Yeah...”
“Let’s see, you’re missing one crew member. Whose Captain Spectre?”
Marker starts, “She’s n…”
A quick arm to the ribs cut her off, “I am Spectre. This is Marker and Thundercloud.”
“Deadcircuit’s still on board?”
“He’s running some tests. There is also a group of Destrons we picked up on the way.”
He looks up, “Really?”
“Yes, Firecat, Shadowtooth, and Pterra.”
“Hrmmm…” he looks down and taps some commands into the datapad, “That’s interesting, don’t have anyone by that name on the rosters. Oh well, They’re still on board?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, then before you go gallivanting around, a few rules. The status here on Earth is preparation for war. That means we are using rules of martial law. All forces are joint here, the Predacons, Maximals, Destrons and Cybertrons. There is a contingent of Autobots and Decepticons as well, and they are, and have been stationed on Earth proper. These Decepticons have decided to return with us to fight the other Decepticons and free Cybertron. Confusing? Well add on this, the Tripredicus council is also down below, but there in deep freeze due to… disagreements with the Decepticons being active AND led by Megatron. Now, You can go down to the surface on the shuttles, they make two runs a day directly to and from Trypticon and Metroplex, and here. “
“Wow…”
“Yeah, really, for the most part the attitudes here are pretty good. Only logged a few disagreements and none have led to violence. Everyone just looks forward to the return trip and to scrapping those Unicron spawned bastard-icons. Oh, and the slated Admiral of the joint Forces is a Cybertron named Backdraft. He’s working with Megatron and Optimus Prime to head up the whole shabang.”
Racer looks around, “Where’s the lounge?”
“Thattaway…”
The Medusae
You watch as Marker and Thundercloud head off toward the Moonbase’s lounge. There wasn’t much you could really do to stop them at any rate, not now.
With a sigh, you turn your attentions to the problems at hand, most notably, the problem of getting to Megatron.
It couldn’t be easy. It’s not like leaders just walk the streets, but the best place to start had to be down on Earth… on Trypticon.
Of course, you had heard of Trypticon. It served as a homebase for the Decepticon legions during the Great War. What it was doing on this planet was beyond you though.
You walk around for a few minutes, looking out the viewports at the various ships docked above the base. You recognize a few, The Minotaur, the Draco… both Destron Defender ships. There were also Maximal ships here, and Destron. Even a few Predacon ships seemed docked out there between this moon and it’s blue-green partner.
You look at the planet itself. White clouds swirled across its sphere, below them you could see a dark, nighttime surface of blue liquid oceans and green fertile landmasses. Lights speckled its surface, signifying that there must be a fairly large populous there.
From an overhead somewhere you here, “Last shuttle boarding for Earth, landing destination Trypticon. “
--How’s
that for timing…--
You look around at the multitude of shuttles, and realize that if you don’t figure out which one is which you’d be lost.
You grab the arm of a white robot as he passes by you, “Hey, where’s the shuttle for Earth?”
The robot waves a hand across the deck, “It’s on landing bay 3-A. Better hurry, ma’am that was the last boarding announcement, it’ll be leaving in about five minutes!”
You turn, “Thanks.” And quickly move off toward the landing pad designated.
As you reached it, you were surprised to see a collection of five robots that were identical to the one you just spoke to. Two stood behind a small table where a flesh based unit sat, the other three were boarding the ship. They transformed into smooth hovertanks as they boarded the ship.
--That’s
all around weird… at least six replicants, and why travel in vehicle mode?—
You stepped up to the shuttle and hear the man behind the desk clear his voice modulator, “Uhm, ma’am?”
You turn and look down, he appeared to be writing a manafest for the ship, “Oh, names Captain Spectre. I wanted to go down to the city and have a look. My ship just arrived in?”
The diminutive life form tapped something into the datapad he was holding, “Ah, yes. Wow, you guys just got in! Barely made the late shuttle. You know there won’t be a flight back until early morning, right?”
“Do now.”
“Ok, then beyond that, you’re clear to go. Be sure to check in with Trypticon’s deck officer before going and wandering around, ok?”
“Got it.”
As he talked you eyed the two robots that stood at attention behind him. There were no sigils that you recognized on them, and something seemed… off about them.
“They’re mechs.” The fleshy spoke.
“Huh…?”
“You looked puzzled at the white guys up there. They’re not Cybertronians, they’re part of the EDF. Tank units that humans operate.”
“Oh…”
“We get a lot of puzzled looks from new bot’s around here. They were built with the help of the Autobots about ten years ago and updated on a regular basis, of course.”
“Thanks.”
“Have a good trip.”
You turn and wave, boarding the shuttle and taking a seat. The tanks were loaded in the back of the ship, the ship being little more than one large room with various-sized chairs and engines. It was a fairly large shuttle, being enough to hold maybe twenty to twenty-five Cybertronians at a time.
It was also packed, you took the last of the large seats. The humans numbered in the thirties, but only the three tanks you saw at first sat in the back area, sitting in locked positions in the back.
The trip down was pretty quiet. You wanted to keep a low profile for now, it would avoid any questions about your command, and that subject still nettled at you a bit.
As you closed in on the planet, you peered out of the window to get a look at the massive complex below.
It sat nestled in a great expanse of water. In any direction, dark, lapping waters were all that could be seen around it.
It appeared that there were two cities, one gleaming silver and white, with Autobot sigils emblazoned on the towers that rose into the sky, the other was dark and purple, a silvery chrome city that glinted under the sparkling stars. It bore the Decepticon sigil, sharp and fierce, that had to be Trypticon.
Between the two was a large ship that seemed to connect the cities. It was an impressive ship, about the size of a Defender, but of a slightly different make. As you neared the city-ship sandwich, you could see many wires and structures that were being worked on between the ship and the two cities.
The cities held one other interesting feature… the metal from which they were built. It glistened like chrome in the starry nighttime seas. More so than any other Transformer did… usually. You had heard of the metal, it was being called Transmetal, but you had never heard of it covering such a large structure!!
--Looks
like those Earth-bots weren’t the only things that got updated!—
The deck officer, a tannish robot with large purple eyes and a Decepticon sigil on his leg, checked you in and asked if you required quarters to be assigned.
Shrugging you agreed, after all, if it was night on this planet, you might not be able to learn much until morning.
--Then
again, the night is the perfect time for spying…--
But to not take quarters might have looked… odd.
He assigned you a room in a large building near the rear of the Decepticon City. You headed there immediately to give yourself a bearing of the city.
The room was small, especially compared to your quarters on the Medusae. There was a small desk with a computer console and a recharge pad. The one plus was its view out over the dark blue waters of the ocean outside. The wall had a ceiling to floor window that gave a generous view over the rolling mass of liquid.
You stare out at the waters for a few minutes, contemplating the strange world you found yourself in. Cybertrons, Predacons, Destrons, Maximals, Autobots, and Decepticons… working together? Of course, most of them have been at peace for centuries, but still… the opposing factions never got along that well.
Shrugging it off you sat down at the terminal and pulled up a general mapping of Trytpicon. Scanning it over, you download it into your databanks to act as a roadmap.
--Now,
according to this computer I’ve got eight mega cycles until it turns
daylight. More than enough time for a
little reconnaissance…--
The night air was cool, and a brisk wind blew across the towers of Trypticon.
You had spent some time exploring the complex, seeing the different building and layouts of the mobile city. There were very few transformers about, and the ones that were there were easy enough to avoid.
For now, the city was quiet.
--Well, the most likely place to
find Megatron would have to be in the command center for this place.—
The thought didn’t go well, the bridge would be the one place that would always have people, even if it were just a skeleton crew at this time of night.
But then, it was not a restricted area. In fact, there weren’t any restricted areas, and while flying about the city gave you some great scenery, it wasn’t really accomplishing much.
You made your way into the central tower, into the command center itself.
Inside, the lights were dimmed to reflect the time of night. An odd decision for Transformers, not unique, but odd. No doubt picked up from the fleshy inhabitants of this world.
Silently you moved down the corridors, shock absorption joints working at their fullest to emulate the smooth glide of your namesake.
Soon you reached the massive doors that allowed access to the command room itself.
Stepping up the smooth, silver doors, you ran through any and all excuses to give for your presence.
The door slid quietly aside and you stepped in.
The bridge was enormous. It went up around five stories, with a massive monitor screen tilted forward and dominating the far wall. There were different levels on each floor, with ladders and small lift platforms leading to each.
Computer terminals covered this area, flashing information and lights in a massive display of technology. On the large screen above, various sections were seperated and showing scenes of the planet, the city, one was even devoted to the deep space news feed from a central galaxy news hub.
There were a few robots here on the ground floor, but most paid little attention to your entrance beyond a quick, disinterested glance.
You moved out, alond the walls, looking at different monitors of information that were being displayed. As you move away from the back wall, you were afforded a better view of the platforms directly above you. There were three on the back wall, and one on the front wall, under the large screen. But it was the top one that drew your attention. It was easy to see, despite it’s smaller size from the others. It was the only one that had no connections to the others, only a door on the back wall could access it.
It reached out from the back, like an outstretched arm leading to a small platform. The platform had consoles that flashed up information at the solitary figure that stood on it. Like a statue, the figure stood and watched, without movement, without reaction…
He
was greenish gray and dark purple camouflaged.
Some kind of large jet from what you could tell. Wings slanted down and
away from his back, and a huge gattling styled missile launcher.
Then, a flashing monitor lit his face, and there could be no mistaking who it was…
--MEGATRON!!!!--
Earth: Trypticon’s main bridge
--It’s
true!—
You stare in disbelief for a few segments before ripping your eyes away and plopping down into a chair near a workstation.
--I
need to think…--
You quickly get up and leave the bridge, heading back toward your room at top speed.
Back in your room, you find yourself staring at the blank wall…
--I
would give anything, ANYTHING, to work under Megatron again!!—
You had no place in the Destron fleet, that much you knew. Especially now that you had given over your command to those assasins!!
--With
the Destrons I was without purpose, adrift… but with Megatron in command of the
Decepticons… We could once again become a force to be reckoned with!!—
First things first, your resignation from the Destron military… Your mind swam with the proper procedures and documentation. You would need some files from the ship…
“Computer, form a secure link with the Medusae.”
“Can not comply with request.”
“What? Why?”
“Medusae is out of communication range.”
“Out of…”
--Only
if they left orbit!!!!!—
“Computer, location of Medusae.”
“Medusae had left dock moorings and move out of local Solar System, destination unknown. “
“Under whose orders?”
“Unknown.”
--They
STOLE MY SHIP!!!!!—
Well, they stole their ship, but still… Well, that clinches it. The Destron’s won’t want a captain who lost her ship. In fact, you were positive there was some regulation that covered it somewhere… probably recommended drumming out of the Navy… or execution.
“Is Megatron still on the bridge?”
“Affirmative.”
--Here
goes.—
“Open a link to him.”
“Megatron here.”
Your mind was racing. The computer monitor cleared and his image appeared on it, silver eyes regarded you with a calm, piercing stare.
“Megatron… My name is Spectre. I am, or were, a Captain for the Destron Military. I request re-instatement to the Decepticon Legions.”
“Re-instatement?”
“Yessir. I served under you for many years, but after the Pax Cybertronia was signed… I was incarcerated for over half a century before I resigned to become a Destron.”
“And you worked your way from there to be the Captain of your own ship?”
“Yes, however, I recently resigned to three of my superiors. And they seem to have left, with my ship.”
“Left? Ah, the Medusae… That explains a few things. Report to the command platform.”
The link closed.
--Great…
I need my chips reset. This will never
work!—
The door slides silently open as you step out onto the command platform. Megatron stood there, facing the vista of command screens that dominated the far wall.
Your spark was burning.
--He’ll turn around and throw me in
irons, or he’ll flat out slag me. What
was I thinking?!?!?!—
You step out onto the arm of the platform and continue down to the main landing itself.
As you approached, Megatron turned.
You felt your pulse stop, and you nearly faltered in your step.
This was him… the legend that led the Decepticons to conquer all of Cybertron. The practical myth that tried to guide Cybertron to peace, using the level headed hand of power…
You fumbled a salute, “Spectre reporting, Sir.”
“Spectre, your ship, the Medusae left two megacycles ago. There was no communication, no signal. A patrol ship tried to stop it and was fired upon.”
Anger flared in your eyes, replacing the self-consciousness with a white hot desire for vengeance.
“And what of the crew?”
“Two of them were found in the lounge. Dead.”
Your mouth dropped open, “Racer… Thundercloud…?”
“Yes, the hit was rather professional. They were both deactivated in the middle of a crowded spaceport lounge within hours of their arrival.”
You leaned against a rail for support, your mind burning in time with your spark.
“They didn’t deserve that… they…”
“I’ve unlocked your record from Trypticon’s archives. It seems that you previously served me… as an assassin.”
You spin, as if you had been doused in ice water, “I… I didn’t… You can’t think…”
“What he thinks,” a new voice, a higher, tinny voice speaks from the side, “is irrelevant. What the facts add up to is what is important.”
You turn to see another robot, similar in coloring… no, exact in coloring to Megatron stood there. You completely missed him in the daze of walking in.
“Enough Starscream,” Megatron cuts the smaller robot off, “Spectre, tell me exactly who you gave your command to… tell us everything.”
And so you told everything you knew. From the time you had received the recall signal on. You told about Karil, the Decepticons there, and the Destron assassin team. How they had duped you into giving up your ship, and then summarily dismissed you as a relic. You held nothing back. In fact, you weren’t sure that you could have held anything back. It was almost as if it was being drawn from you the instant you began.
After you were finished, you stood there, with your head hung low. All thoughts of becoming part of the Decepticon Legion banished from your mind.
Several segments went by before Megatron spoke, “Zabgoth and Lightslayer… they… went AWOL several days ago. It seems your assassin friends still have a job to do.”
“You don’t believe her!!” whined Starscream.
“Quiet fool, you know as well as I do that her story matches what we already knew.”
“Already knew?” you look up.
“Lightslayer and Zabgoth both told of how they had come from Karil, and how three Destron assassins were there. They defeated both the assassins and the Firecons before they left.”
You shake your head, “Then… once the Destrons came here, they found out that they had left, same as I did…”
“And they went to find them.” finished Starscream.
“Taking my ship and leaving me to take the blame!” you slam your fist into the rail.
“Only they didn’t count on one thing. Thank you, Knight.”
You felt, more than saw, another presence, deep in the shadows near the door. A silver face seemed to melt out of that darkness, and it regarded you with two, large dark eyes.
“You are finished.” The dark robot states, a slight bit of contempt seemed to surge from his voice.
Starscream stepped toward the shadow, ”You will show proper respect…”
Megatron held his hand up, “Yes, thank you again Knight. Farewell.”
The shape seems to dissolve again into the shadows.
“What…?” you stammered in confusion.
Megatron turned back to you, “Knight possesses a… talent. He used it to possess you, slightly.”
“Possess me?!?”
“Yes, he made sure that you told all that you knew. However he would only agree to do it if you were willing to take the first step.”
You felt a chill pass through you, “Then what happens now?”
“Whoever killed those two is still here.”
“What?!”
“The bodies were killed at approximately the same moment that the ship lifted off. Therefore I believe that they left behind one of their number to make sure that they weren’t followed, and to tie up any loose ends.”
“Me.”
“Yes, you. However, they did not realize that you would have already gotten so far, nor do I believe they knew about the shuttle delay.”
--Of
course, I jumped a ship to Earth immediately, and it was the last one…--
“So, there’s a ticked off Destron up there waiting for the chance to come down here and kill me.”
“I believe so.”
“Then…”
“You are no longer a Destron Captain. You are now a Decepticon assassin. Find this bot and bring him to me.”
You stand up straight and salute Megatron, pride welling up inside of you, “Yessir!”
He reaches out, handing you something. You take it and find that it is a sharp purple object. A more swept back, pointed sigil than the one you bore. It’s chrome surface glinted cooly in the darkness of the early morning bridge.
You held up the Decepticon sigil as if it were a holy relic.
“Decepticons…” you whisper… “forever.”
Earth: Trypticon
--That was quite possibly the most reckless
thing I’ve ever done… I can’t believe it worked!! But at least I’m now back
where I belong, in a position I’m well suited to.—
As you left the
bridge, your new sigil glinting merrily in the darkened pre-dawn cooridors, you
thought about your current situation.
And with that came the thought that you were now a target, not a
position you particularly favored.
Firecat probably remained with the
ship, which means he either left that lunkhead Pterra behind, or, a much more
unsettling thought, Shadowtooth was still here. It’s possible they’re both here, but that would leave Firecat
alone to deal with this Zabgoth and Lightslayer. Since three of them already failed, you doubted that Firecat
would be foolish enough to try to tackle the job himself.
Not
to mention, you were just a poor, outdated relic… Cowering alone and afraid, waiting for what’s to come…
--I
guess I won’t bother apologizing for their upcoming dissapointment.—
Marker and Thundercoud… They didn’t deserve their fate. Probably didn’t even see it coming. But what of Deadcircuit?
--Why
do I have the odd feeling he’s just fine right now? –
If you ever encounter him again…
well, you’ll know where he stood during all this.
--And
then I’ll remove his ability to stand at all!!—
--No,
to be efficient is to be without emotional interference. That is something I’ve had great experience
with… and little difficulty. Control is
all.—
For now, you must assume that
whoever comes will be here with the first transport… only a little over a mega
cycle from now.
Your quarters weren’t hard to find, so, first
thing to do will have to be become completely familiar with the location.
Time was limited, too limited. Simply walking around and memorizing things
weren’t likely to do, not for this.
Once in your quarters you sat down at the
computer terminal.
--This will
require a direct download…--
A small panel under your chestplate slides
open and you pull a wire from it.
Exposing some receptical ports on the terminal you plugged in to the
unit directly.
The room
around you was immediately replaced with a vast void. You fight down the immediate sense of vertigo without problem,
“Computer. Access level formats for
Trypticon’s outer housing unit.”
--Why?—
“Wha…” you had never had a computer question you.
--What is your reason for asking?—
The deep
emanation came not from verbal means, but rather a reverbrating wave of
thoughts that you could feel straight through your spark.
“Because I
require it!”
--Fool.—
“Who is
this? Who’s there?!”
Suddenly a
massive spark swirled into existence below you. It was a hundred times your perceived size, and it pulsed and
throbbed with a maddening spasticity.
--I am hunger.—
“What in
Primus’ name?!”
--Do
you not realize the implications? Can
you not see? I am no computer, rather I
AM Trypticon. I AM power, I AM hunger.—
The strict
control practices of the mind and emotions were coming back to you rather
quickly now. Replacing the fear or awe
that you were meant to feel with a cold detachment. After all, you weren’t really here, this was just a mental
projection of…
--Do not fool yourself into believing that what happens here is not real. For here, you are no longer dependent on
your physical being, rather we are energy, and energy can always be
dispursed.--
--He read my thoughts?!?—
--Now, tell me why you need the information…--
--Apparently he can’t read ALL my thoughts!—
“I require
immediate knowledge of the surrounding area.
There will be an attack on my person soon, and I wish to be prepared.”
A low laugh
washes from the spark.
--Very good. A simple answer without
revealing anything. That I can
appreciate… Already I can taste the confusion… the surprise… the fear. Allow me to… lend a hand.—
You sit bolt upright, snatching the plug out
from your torso. Only a micro segment
had passed, the advantage of direct access to a mainframe.
You look around, already complete knowledge of
the surrounding area was burning into your CPU, but the process with which it
was gained was not one you would prefer to repeat.
Pushing down your emotional qualms, you turn
to the task at hand.
The corridors to this building weren’t much,
but there was a network of access vents, and the window to outside could
actually be opened… Apparently no one else was even aware of this fact. You had the feeling that Trypticon didn’t
care for them to…
Also, the circuitry setup within the walls was
fantastic. The windows were coated with
invisible circuitry, actually being able to produce images on their surface if
so required. Also, each room had a
small holo-unit. Not very powerful in
itself, but if Trypticon drew power from the surrounding levels he could charge
one with enough energy to direct a hologram of decent size anywhere in a room.
Another aspect that had been revealed was the
mapping of the security net in the building, and the fact that any camera can
be tooled into your room’s computer console… on Trypticon’s behest.
You
needed to hit fast and hard, and not be seen until it’s too late. You knew the layout now, but there was still
your opponents to be considered.
If it is Pterra, he’ll come from the air,
quite possibly attempting it outside.
He was fast, but not too bright.
He was also slightly larger than the cats, probably a little stronger.
If it was Shadowtooth… he’ll come whenever he
feels. He’s a master at blending in
with the shadows. You would have to
draw him out first, he seemed to cautious to appear without surety of success.
Either way, they would likely underestimate
you, and that in itself was a powerful weapon. However, you would not rely on
that, lest you underestimate them in return.
--It's high time they learned what
Decepticons are really made of.--
Earth: Trypticon
So, the preparations were made
quickly and quietly.
Trypticon would use its
projectors to create an image of you working feverishly on defenses in your
room. Hopefully, this would trick your attacker into believing thatyou were
still trying desperately to prepare... a case of too little too late.
Meanwhile, you would wait
outside the window... which will also use the advanced holographic systems to
emulate an outside clear of... well, you. You would be able to see clearly,
of course, and thereby observe the assasin.
Now, it was just a matter of
patience.
The shuttle came, and as you
watched it unload, you saw no sign of the Destron's aboard.
--He is here...--
"Where?"
--He did not board
the shuttle normally, he must have hidden near the exhausts. He now
patrols the lower levels, planning out where he will go. I do not think
it will take him long...--
Megatron want's the assasin, Megatron will get him.
You lock inyou weapons and
prepare...
It took half a megacylce, but
Trypticon updated you of the Destron's posistion constantly. Now, he was
approaching the room via the ductwork that networked the ventilation
systems. By now, you had a pretty good idea that your assasin was not
Pterra. The methods used to track you down were too smooth, too refined
for the heavy handed bird.
--He has arrived.--
You gripped your gun steadily,
narrowing your eyes as you watched the scene from here.
'You' were working frantically,
and a bit clumsily on some panels that lined to Trypticon's defense net.
You could just imagine the joy on the cat's face as he prepared to pounce.
Then, from the duct-grate, a
barbed chain shot, slamming into the chair that your image inhabited. The
hologram faltered as it ripped past it and torn the chair in two. There was a
slight pause, and then the chain whipped back up.
"Slag! Open the
window, let me in there!"
He wasn't entering the room...
wise on his behalf...
--No--
The windows turned opaque for a
moment.
"What?! Let me in you
oversized...!"
BOOM
The explosion shook the wall and
building, cracking the plate glass window.
--Excessive...--
The window slid open revealing
that your room had nearly been vaporized. Smoke poured out of it,
and you could hear klaxon's blaring in the hallways.
--He has gone below. But I
can track him.--
Quickly, Trypticon told you
where to go.
Down below, in the depths of
Trypticon's undercarriage, a gray and blue cat dropped silently to the
ground. He looked around, assured that no one had followed him.
Still, he steamed at the fact
that the relic had gotten the drop on him. He should have known to expect
more, after all, she had survived for millennia.
Now he had to replan, his
presence would be known, and that loss was his fault. He wouldn't make
the same mistake twice. First things first... he needed to recheck the
schematics for this city. That would require a computer outlet...
Quietly, he padded his way
across the complex of pipes, struts, and heavy hiring that turned the basement
area of this building into a maze.
All the while, you were watching
him...
You lowered your weapon, aiming
carefully. You didn't want him dead, not yet... a quick blast to his
lower leg servos would hamper him though... perhaps enough to disable him
without a fight.
Crosshairs on your optics zoomed
in, zoning the exact point where his joints were guarded the least.
FRRRZZZZZAAAACK!!
The blast echoes loudly down
here, but strikes true. There is a screech as the cat spins on his
now defunked leg.
"Shadowtooth, BOT
MODE!!!" He transforms, folding out from his cat mode into his robot
and snatches the spinal cord-tail out and cracks it menacingly. His leg
is still injured, but in this mode there is some compensation. He lashes
out, the barbed tail-whip darting toward you with shattering speed.
But you were ready.
Deftly you dodged and snatched
the tail out of the air. The sharp metal-bone ridges burned on your hand,
but you forced the pain down and held fast.
He was stronger than you, but
you had already planned for this. Here, hand to hand, he may hold a
viscous advantage, but in the sky...
"SPECTRE,
TRANSFORM!!!!"
You snapped into flight mode,
the whip tail securely fastened in the transformation. Before Shadowtooth
can react, before he can realize he needed to release the barbed weapon, your
jets flared into life, yanking the Destron assassin after you.
The path was well researched, no
points were taken that might enable the Destron to reach out and grab hold of,
to do so might be detrimental. Trypticon was ready as well, doors slid
open and snapped shut around you, struts seemed to bend out of the way,
gatherings of wires slackened to allow free passage...
Then the brilliance of daylight
blasted around you.
You snap your nose around,
cracking the whip and the Predacon free, tossing them across the shining
streets of the Decepticon city.
You think he might have landed
on his feet, if both feet had been operational. As it was he skidded
across the ground in a shower of sparks, smashing into the nearby base of the
building.
You transformed and sent a
barrage of laser fire down around him, metal, fire, and smoke, exploded around
him as he tried to recover. He pushed himself up, but several blasts
knocked him to the ground.
You hover in front of him,
looking down in disdain as he struggled feebly to make a stand, "You and
yours made a fatal mistake. You believed I was an archaic, weak minded
follower. Know now that you came to MY city, you came to MY world, and
you were defeated. Know now that I am no pathetic Destron, I am Spectre,
I am a DECEPTICON!!"
The destron gives a low
dangerous chuckle, "Fool, the Destron Generals will destroy you for
this..."
"The Destron Generals be
deactivated. I serve them no longer."
"You are wrong on one
account... We may have underestimated you. But I am yet to be defeated...
VORTEX WORM!!"
His eyes became dark pits,
vortex' of darkness that seemed to draw in all light around them,from them a
dark, indescribable tentacle of blackness tore out through the air, stretching
from that darkness to grab you with blinding speed.
Speed was on its side, and you
knew that you could not dodge it in time. You pushed down the urge to
flee from the reaching, sticky darkness that threatened to strangle you, you
controlled the fear and raised your gun.
One shot was all you got... one
shot was all you needed.
The blast streaked through the
air, impaling Shadowtooth dead center through the head, shattering his
cyberskull.
The darkness dissapated even as
its freezing touch swirled around your throat.
The body of the Destron slumped
even farther down as you floated down gently in front of him.
He wasn't dead... at least not
his spark, but it would soon fade without the cerbrum to regulate it's energy
supply. Of course, he may have time to reroute control circuits, but even
then, he was quite disabled.
Megatron wanted the assassin...
you delivered him.
Earth: Trypticon
Quickly you reach down and pull the Destron's spark chamber from it's moorings.
--Gotta get this to containment quickly. I'll send the techs down to salvage the memory circuits from this pile of scrap later.--
You transform and burn your way to Trypticon's Med bays. A CR chamber was already prepped for the spark crystal.
--More of Trypticon's 'assistance'?--
You drop the crystal off and head to Megatron to report in person.
"Excellent." Megatron smiled as you finished your report, "There is a Predacon interrogation expert on board that will handle the questioning of your victim. Your assimilation of your new battle computers and Trypticon's floor plans have proven that you have an adaptability far beyond what I had previously expected."
"Thank you, Lord Megatron."
The bridge below was busy with activity as Decepticons used the master computer banks on the lowest levels. From the control platform you could clearly see them scurrying about, the platform itself was quite private, and you still felt a bit nervous being here alone with a robot that had been mere legend to you a few days prior.
"Trypticon, erect sound barrier."
Immediately the noise of the bridge below faded away.
The large robot turned back to you, "Now, I have a new assignment for you. I need you to investigate something."
"Investigate? That's not..."
"Not your area of expertise? I know, but you seem to have the potential for a new plan. First, however, you must prove yourself worthy."
"Then your command shall guide my actions."
The large robot considered you for a second with silver, impassive eyes. Then turned to the control panels on the platform, and activated a small viewing screen there.
You moved to where you could see the screen. It displayed an odd transformer. His armor appeared to be made of a yellowing bone material, His face was featureless, except for two dark eyes, and the impression of ashen tears running down his face.His chestplate gave the odd impression of a skull, black and white patterns from the robot's transformation creating a nose and teeth.
"This robot's name is Deathspire."
You recognize the name from centuries past, "He led the renegade Decepticons after your disappearance and the signing of the Pax Cybertronia."
"Very good, he also was here on Earth."
"Here? I thought he was destroyed."
"As was I. He was rebuilt and sent here from another time."
"Another time? Transwarp?"
"Yes. Look at the writings on his legs, arms, and wings."
The screen zoomed in and you could see runic inscriptions in the robot's armor. The language appeared to be an ancient form of Cybertronian.
"What does it say?"
Megatron grimaced, "It announced him as 'Herald'."
You look up at the dark leader, "Herald? Herald of what."
"Unicron."
You stare at him, stunned, "You don't mean... the Warworld?"
"I do not know. The Decepticons there do have the horn fragment from the original Unicron, but it was long since said to be dead. Also, Deathspire seemed to doubt that this was his incarnation."
"He knew..."
"That I was aware of his alliance? Yes, he claimed to have been forced... much as I was at one time. Now, he has disappeared, and I do not know what to believe."
"Then you want me to track him down?"
"No. I am sure he has returned to Cybertron. But I wish you to investigate what he was doing before his disappearance."
"To what end?"
"I am not sure. Two days before he left, he went to a remote place on this planet. He found a Maximal and they engaged in combat for some reason. Several hours later they returned here. Neither was seriously injured, and both seemed to have forged some new alliance. I want to know what it was about this place that could force them to fight, and then to ally."
Your head swims at the possibilities, "And if I find that there was something dark about their alliance?"
"You operate as a free agent. Do not disappoint me, Spectre."
You bow, "Yes, Lord Megatron."
Turning, you left the platform through the doorway to begin your search...
Earth: Trypticon
As you walk through the hallways, the thought wanders around your head that you would have to remember to thank Trypticon for its help...
--Remember our alliance when it is necessary, that is all the thanks I need.--
You stop short, staring at the ceiling, "What do you mean, 'alliance.'"
--You accepted my help, I am now a part of you. When I call, you will repay our debt.--
"A part of you?!"
A Decepticon looked up startled from his walk through the halls.
You glare at him, and he quickly shuffles off.
--A part of you!?--
--Yes, your inputs directly in to me allowed me to share more than simple thoughts. You will find your consciousness greatly expanded. how do you thin that you were so able to track down the Destron? If you open your mind, you will find yourself seeing through the very fabric of the truths I see.--
You continue your walk, unsure of what he meant, and having a feeling that you didn't wish to know.
Outside you considered taking a ship, but decided that a direct flight might be more preferable to clear your head.
"Spectre, transform!"
You shift and tuck down into the smooth lined v-shaped fighter. With a kick, your high velocity engine units burned a trail off into the sunny skies.
--So, I am to investigate Deathspire's activities before his disappearance. That's not really too far from what I do for a background workup on a target. It's not so different at all!--
You shifted through the airstream, the warmth of the sun above contrasting with the cold spray of the damp, icy clouds.
--It is quite an honor to be given this task... I think.--
Regardless, it was another test you would not fail for Megatron.
Below you, soft green fields of grass swayed softly in the evening sun. you had traversed a considerably distance across this globe, and here it was rapidly growing darker.
You drop down toward the exact coordinates that Trypticon gave you.
There, the terrible marring of a crack in the very earth marred the soft grassy hills. you transform and land with a soft thud nearby.
Burn marks could still be seen across the velvety hills, announcing that some battle had taken place here a few solar cycles past.
Energy readings proved useless, too much time had passed to register anything.
A soft cold wind blew across your armor, sighing in the dusk's oncoming. The lands around were relatively unpopulated. No cities were within several hundred kilometers of this place, and no roads even ran near this place, but still, you had the ominous feeling that you were not alone.
--I do not know what could force an alliance between two that would unleash these scarring energies, but there are many possibilities. Perhaps it would be best to fortify myself against any coercion I run into.--
Sucking in a deep breath, you moved toward the ragged scar that split open the countryside.
Pinpricks of light began to sparkle overhead in the violet hued night as you looked over the ledge of the chasm. A soft breath seemed to blow out, heavy with a musty familiarity that somehow put your circuits on edge. Only darkness stretched below, and you assumed that it went down for some distance.
In the center of the crack, there was a split stone. You stepped back from the ledge and moved over to one half of the heavy rock.
It was sliced evenly and cleanly, but in the center there was an odd indention. Some kind of odd carved out hollow near the center. you recorded it, taking a holographic image for later study.
A quick seismic pulse revealed that the true crack was not much more that five meters across, the other twenty meters worth was just a surface crack caused from the deep opening.
It also revealed that the crack went deep down into the earth's bedrock, possibly for several kilometers.
There didn't seem to be much else here for investigation, so you leapt down into the darkness below.
The crack was deep, and large enough for a bot your size to fit through. In fact, you and possibly one other could have fallen through without difficulty.
You shut on your winglights. Sending a glittering orange light across the rocky surface.
It felt claustrophobic here, and still, a warm wave of that strange smell seemed to surround and suffocate you as you dropped lower and lower.
Then, the walls dipped away, opening into an enormous cavern, and within seconds you found yourself alighted on a sandy ground.
The cavern was moist, but you couldn't see a thing for the cloaking darkness.
A patch of your chest rotated and a bright searchlight swiveled out.
A massive, steely smooth lake reflected your light upwards.
You stared out at the dark surface, smooth as mercury, and dark as the night.
Then, your optics turned upward to the cascade of light that was reflected off the flat waters.
The empty eyesockets of skulls stared back at you...
Thousands upon thousands of skulls.
Skulls of every make, kind, type, lining the walls of the massive cavern. You stumbled back in awe. The ceilings had to be hundreds of meters tall, yet every inch was crammed with staring, accusing eye sockets, and leering gape-mouthed jaws.
As you stared, the skulls seemed to begin a swirling dance, shifting and moving, silently laughing at you.
You blinked your optics and the mass of skulls showed as they were. Within seconds the illusion began again and you were forced to avert your eyes.
--What is this place?!?--
Something about it, something within the pit of your stomach new...
You stared out resolutely, moving toward the edge of the lake.
--Trypticon! Where am I!!??!!--
Suddenly, you became aware of the overpowering sensation of the Decepticon city as it washed over you.
Again, the bones seemed to shift and move in a maddening pattern, your mind rebelled against it, forcing shape and form, forcing order into that madness.
--Let go of your inhibitions. Allow your mind to see what you do not wish to comprehend.--
As if an icy grip tore into your head, you arched back, opening your optics widely to the horrible scene. Again they began to shift, but this time, the icy grip forced itself into your psyche and kept you from fighting it.
Within segments you knew what the place was.
The skulls did form a pattern, but not one based in order as you knew it, rather it was a pattern of pure madness, of pure chaos. As your defenses were pulled down, your mind nullified, you began to clearly see the walls for what they were.
It was a tomb.
You reared back even farther and something deep within your circuits screamed out.
This place had been where Unicron's essence had been entombed.
Earth: Unicron's grotto
The first instinct is to flee.
To get away before the maddening chaos swallowed you, but in that terrible moment, everything was frozen.
You couldn't move, you were rooted to the spot.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you felt Trypticon's grip releasing and you began to think without his guidance. The walls shifted back into the maddening chaos that your mind rebelled against. You slumped to the ground, your mind reeling, and aching from the insanity that you had seen.
--This is it, then. I can't think of any more probably cause of this alliance... but still, what brought them here?!--
The two warriors that had come here, Error and Deathspire. Deathspire was undoubtedly Unicron's pawn, but in what way. He was marked as Herald. But had he come from here? Your mind raced to the rock up above, something odd about the hollow pattern in it. It was too large for a seal, but what then had been encased in it? Both the records for Deathspire and Error showed that they had appeared around the same time, and neither with any form of explanation. Error claimed to be one of the Predacon's from Tripredicus' ship, but the Predacon's records didn't match up... The stasis pods were all accounted for...
And Deathspire, where did he come from... Could they both be from here?
Then why would they fight, why would Deathspire disappear?
By now your mind had shifted into analysis mode. Cold, critical... Now was not the time to be weak kneed.
Error, you new was still stationed on Metroplex. Could he be a spy for Unicron himself? Suddenly, allies forged by that chaotic madness that myth and legend foretold?
Or was there something more? Deathspire had not hidden himself from anyone, his marking showed his name and he had freely told Megatron of his enslavement by Unicron.
Could he just be the proverbial red herring?
You searched the boundaries of the cave as you thought. The only break in the heavy, mineral-lined cavern was the crack above. in fact, the only place where a transmission of any sort could pass would be that crack. The walls were coated with a myriad of minerals that disabled the passage of any energy flow...
--A tomb it was indeed. For how long was Unicron trapped here? Since he attacked Cybertron nearly five centuries ago? --
A quick dating of the bones and material didn't seem to batch that... Some were millions of years old. None were more recent than a few hundred thousand years.
Again the rock above plagued you. Igniting your jets, you floated carefully up to the entryway above. There, you ran a deep scan on the rocks.
They bore an energy signature! It was old, but it must have been some blast. It wasn't immediately recognizable, but perhaps the computers on Trypticon could analyze it somewhat better, those and the photos of the rock...
Once more you stared down into the rip on the softly billowing grassy knoll. It stared back with a jagged anger, marring the surreal landscape with it's angry eye.
--It is a mockery of all life... It should be covered, but perhaps not yet. Not until I am certain I have learned what I need.--
You transform, burning into the dark skies with a red hot streak of engine power.
Earth: Trypticon
Back at Trypticon, you downloaded your scans and pictures for the leviathan to begin to process. The databases crunched the information down and began to disseminate the pieces, looking for clues and matches as to what you had seen there.
The energy signature on the rock was the easiest.
It was not a new signature, as you had thought, it was an energy flash that had burned itself into the very matrices of the crystalline structure. A force so intense that it had kept registering for nearly several hundred thousand years! More so, the flash was transwarp in nature!
With that thought burning through yours and Trypticon's CPU, the nature of the rock began to evolve. A quick check by the massive computers proved that the indention within the rock would match perfectly to a neatly balled up Deathspire. It was his indention, from being curled in a fetal position within the very rock! There was still one piece that didn't match, and you came up with that. An odd impression below the rock appeared to be a claw of some creature. on a visual inspection, it turned out to be one of the robot Error's arms. He had thick, paw like hands that ended in long claws.
--So where did Error and Deathspire come from?! Hundreds of thousands of years in the past?!--
And if so, did they come from where Unicron still survived.
--Most likely, but why on Earth? There are no records of Earth even being involved in the Unicron Wars.--
"Trypticon, what is the diplomatic state between us and the Autobots."
--We're a happy family.--
"Very funny, I mean will they get wary of me poking around there? Do I have any restrictions on access?"
--Likely there will be some restrictions to the more vital areas of Metrolex' CPU, but beyond that, you should find no barriers to their records.--
Satisfied, you stand, and go to report your findings to Megatron.
"So, this Error was there with Deathspire?" he had seemed unimpressed at the story of Deathspire, or at the tale of the cavern.
"Yes, it would seem likely, though to what ends I do not know, nor do I know how they ended up here."
"Unicron's technology would no doubt provide enough power to send them forward in time. But this grotto... you said that it was empty?" He stood, staring out at the screens in the massive control room, listening as you told your story.
"Yes, I read no other energy signatures."
Almost to himself, he muttered, "Then what happened to Unicron..."
"Excuse me sir, but I was wondering, why was there a tomb for Unicron here, and why one that was so old? Weren't the Unicron wars no more than a few centuries past? And I've never heard of this place... this Earth being mentioned in the chronicles..."
"Earth wasn't mentioned because it was removed from the records, but no... its involvement was vague, a few humans that lent a hand in his destruction."
"A few humans?" the small fleshlings seemed like they'd hardly be a match for a dark god.
"As I said, their involvement was minute. But we have already seen that our ideals were incorrect about Unicron's being."
"What do you mean?"
"If you read the chronicles, you know that we fought Unicron twice."
"Yes, I assumed that we must have somehow failed..."
"No, he was destroyed, both times. Once by the combined might of Cybertron, once by the Matrix of Creation and Leadership."
"But how..."
"Just as Jhiaxus created several Cybertrons, so are there several Unicrons... fragments separated from the original planetoids that Primus used to entrap both himself and the god of Chaos."
"But... that means..."
"Earth is one of those fragments? Possibly. It may explain the fleshlings odd behaviors..."
"Shouldn't we... destroy it then?!?"
Megatron's eyes glinted, "No, that may be a bit premature... though nonetheless gratifying. I believe that Unicron no longer dwells here, no has he been here in thousands of years... I... as Galvatron, and even now, believe I would have sensed him, as I sensed the worm of his presence within Deathspire.
"Go, continue your investigation. You have done well."
From atop a tower later the next day you stood. The sun now had risen not long ago, and you had Error in sight. He was a spiky maximal, one that could transform into a porcupine creature with sharp quills. He was down below you in the streets of Metroplex.
The only things you had found on him were that he just showed up, approximately the same time as Deathspire, and that he's been helping with manual work around the city. Apparently he was a very quiet Maximal, and didn't seem to have any real friends here.
You had taken the precaution to cover your inquisitions with a cover story about clues to the deaths of your crew. No one had really bothered to question it too closely. Which was probably good, you did do some preliminary searches in that direction though. And marked a few documents for de-encryption at a later time. However, now, you had your sights set on Error.
"What is your connection... are you too a pawn of Unicron?" you mutter to yourself.
--No, if he was, Megatron would probably have identified it... but then, Megatron's never met him face to face.--
You see him head to a docking bay on the deck of the city, and sat back to keep an eye on him. While you waited you worked on a few of the files that you had found. What attracted your attention was the encryption that was on it. It was an older Char security code... one that hadn't been used in quite some time. This was further of interest to you because it coincided with the date that Lightslayer and Zabgoth... the two that the Destron assassins appeared to be after... had gone AWOL. You had coerced the computer to allow you to download the file, but had not gotten the encryption. You doubted the main computer even knew the encryption. Another small thing of interest was the fact that 'Admiral Backdraft,' the big head honcho of the Autobot-Decepticon alliance, was an ex-Cybertronian Police Force that had been stationed on Charr for a couple of centuries.
Time passed slowly as you kept an eye on the steadily working Maximal below. Mentally, you twisted and shifted the encryption. It was displayed on a small panel on your optics, so it was fairly easy to do both things at the same time.
About six megacycles passed. Then, you found the final key. The code snapped into clarity in your CPU and the information was decoded quickly. It was a document that marked a ship called the Crusader-1 leaving on the same day that Lightslayer and Zagboth, as well as two mercenaries and a human, went AWOL from their respective forces. The ship left before first light, and there were no manifests or any notations with the record. Just a simple launch time and crew. In fact, the Crusader-1 wasn't even registered as a Maximal, Destron, Predacon, Autobot, Decepticon, or Cybertron ship!
--Why would a Maximal, a Destron, a couple of Mercenaries, and a human be doing running off from Earth?--
The other notation you made was that the ship left the same morning that Deathspire went AWOL. His name, however was not mentioned with the crew.
You spent the rest of the afternoon watching Error. He had to be the single most boring Maximal you had ever had the misfortune to spy on... not that you had spied on that many Maximals...
In fact, you didn't think he could try to be any more boring... it was like...
--Like he's trying to blend into the background!--
That was it. You had seen it before, slag, had done it before! He was keeping away from anyone, keeping from drawing any attention. As if he was just along for the ride.
--And what ride are you waiting for, Error?--
You had checked back records from the plethora of Maximal ships that had docked here as well. There was no mention of a Maximal fitting Error's signature.
--Who are you?--
"Megatron to Spectre."
"Spectre here."
"Meet me on foredeck A-23. Megatron out."
The connection cut.
--That was odd. Why would he choose one of Trypticons landing pads?--
Wary, you transformed and headed to the other city.
Within minutes you circled and landed on the empty landing pad.
Megatron wasn't there, and you began to really get suspicious.
A door on the far side opened, and out stepped a gray, red and blue robot. He was instantly recognizable, though his form, too, had changed over the centuries.
"Optimus Prime?!"
Power and Wisdom seemed to shimmer around him as he approached. His gray chest bore an Autobot sigil emblazoned between two eagles wings, and he bore two door-wings on his back, but the face was the same as the archives you remembered.
"I assume you are our guide?"
"Guide?" you asked, confused.
The sound of heavy feet landing behind you caused you to spin, to see Megatron standing there, along with the smaller, color matching, Starscream.
"Yes, Spectre. I apologize for calling you here without explanation, but the less that know about this the better."
"About this...?"
"I want you to take us to the grotto."
Earth: the Mountains.
As you flew, following behind Megatron/Starscream, your mind wandered...
--Back to Cybertron. Should be interesting. Here's hoping the
Spacebridge actually works...--
You look at the spiked Maximal that rode on Optimus' hover sled.
--I'd rather go alone, of course, but perhaps under the circumstances, it is
for the best. But I know so little about this Error... or Syntax,
whatever. I know that he was responsible for bringing the renegades in...
I guess technically, all of Megatron's new forces, including myself, are
qualified as renegades. It might become a problem.--
Soon, you had landed, outside of a half collapsed mountainside.
"This is where the last spacebridge was buried." Megatron walked up
to move a massive boulder away from a rusty tunnel entry.
Stepping
inside, you were surprised that it was relatively clean. Megatron
followed last, pulling the boulder to behind you. The tunnel became dark,
with Optimus' headlights the only source of light.
Swiftly, you moved down through the cold tunnel. No one bothered to make
a noise.
At the end, you found a large chamber, in which sat a ring of purplish
metal. You could only faintly make it out from where you are.
Optimus turned to the both of you, "Error, Spectre. Your mission is
to find the others and warn them of Deathspire's presence. They may
already know of it, and it may not be a problem. Then again, it may be.
You will have to assay the situation on your own. I trust that you both
have enough experience to take care of it. Secondly, give the group
any assistance that you can in whatever their mission is."
You both nod in ascension. Error stepping into the center of the darkened
spacebridge.
As you turn, however, you were surprised to see Megatron standing
there. You struggled to say something, but your audio circuits
seemed to short.
The gray-green leader reached out, extending his hand to you.
You were stunned at the odd show of familiarity. The single greatest
leader of Decepticon history was about to... shake your hand?
You straightened up and took his hand.
There was something there, a small, sharp object.
Instantly you turned your facial features off, giving yourself a cold mask to
conceal the surprise that you registered. There was no doubt that it was
a disk that was being handed to you discretely hidden in the handshake.
You folded the disk into the palm of your hand and stepped back from the
massive leader.
He turned without comment and moved to stand beside Starscream by the controls
for the bridge.
You moved to take your place. As you did so, you discretely inserted the
disk into a side panel on your thigh.
In
the gloom you stood next to the Maximal.
Megatron signaled to Starscream, and the heavy doors to the Spacebridge slid
to, closing the gap in the circle.
As the hum of the machine began around you, you began to access the disk.
A strong wind gathers around you, creating a vortex of energy and
wind. But your eyes were focused inward...
--Spectre, your path has lead you to
the truth quicker than I anticipated. You return to Cybertron, not to
find a renegade force of Decepticons, but rather, a branch that is
working in conjunction with myself , Starscream, and the Combaticons here
on Earth. Find the leader of the Decepticons on Cybertron,
Clench. Tell him of Deathspire and Unicron's presence. This matter
is of utmost importance. Then, you are to find Deathspire, and destroy
him.
I do warn you, communications between here and
Cybertron have broken off as of late. However, the Decepticon Empire
shall soon again be one.
Also, I want you to find out about this horn that
Clench has mounted on the Warworld. This was planned before my
resurrection, and it's presence worries me. Let Clench know that any reminder
of Unicron's presence is not acceptable.
Finally, Error will be a hindrance to you.
Annihilate him as soon as you reach Cybertron. There will no doubt be a
Decepticon posted there, as we have occasionally used the Spacebridge, instead
of communications to pass information.
This is you final test Spectre. Prove
yourself here, and your position in the new Decepticon Empire will be
assured.--
The short transmission clicked off. A million questions flew through your
head. But there would be no time to ask them.
Already the maelstrom ceased, and you found yourself in the center of a small,
round acceptance chamber. The doors in front slid open to reveal a
purple, gray, and dark blue Decepticon standing there, rifle in hand.
Error reacted, startled, "A Decepticon! Watch out!"
You coldly raise your gun sideways to his head, "Wrong, Error. Two
Decepticons."
You pull the trigger.
Cybertron...
The Maximal falls to the floor, a look of surprise burned on his face.
You look down at his twitching corpse. Impassivity reigning on your face, you lower your weapon.
Looking up, you see the Decepticon standing watching you carefully, "I am Spectre." as you allow your gaze to rest on his optics without motion.
The Decepticon looked a little disturbed, but then there was nothing wrong with a little intimidation.
--At last I have the truth! Well, some of it at any rate. It does make sense, and I will of course follow Megatron's orders. I will not fail... I will have my position in the new Decepticon Empire.--
The Decepticon sputtered out a reply, "That was the slag suckinest piece of cold go-bot huntin' I've seen in a long spark crunchin' time. Its great to be a crankin' Decepticon!" he smiles a bit unassuredly.
--I want immediate cooperation, no hide-and seek with these 'cons--
"My name's Apeface." the grease covered Decepticon held out a large hand.
You didn't break optic contact, rather you merely, and coldly stated,"I must speak with Clench."
Apeface looked a bit disgruntled, but shrugged it off. You doubted anything ruffled that thick exterior for long, "Alright, I gotta piece of Quinteslag out there. You can hop it and shake your pretty crank up to see the big Cyberlord..." He motioned to the door.
Stepping through, you stepped into a homeland that you hadn't seen in some time.
The starry skies above you gave a velvet background to the neon lights of the massive city of Cybertropolis. Rather than a dead, militaristic city, you were shocked to see that it as quite alive. Cybertronians ran to and fro across massive overpasses, or through the air in lanes of sky traffic. The ground was littered with the movement of Transformer life, and the signs of business and everyday life were everywhere.
You drank in the sight.
Not far from where you stood, there was a rundown shuttle. You assumed this was the 'piece of Quintecrap' that Apeface had so eloquently referred to.
Looking up into the skies, you could easily see the newcomer to the Cybertronian skies. An orbiting, spiked metallic moon floated peacefully above Cybertropolis in a synchronis orbit.
--The Warworld!--
Even from here, you could make out the horrifying artifact that has so disturbed your Lord. Stretching form the front of the orbiting moon there as a long, curved horn, Unicron's horn.
You suppressed a shudder, even though the door behind you had closed, and you now stood alone in the Cybertronian night.
You square off your shoulders and head for the shuttle. It was time to find out what Clench had to say for himself.
As it grew ever closer, the ominous Warworld seemed to call out to you. Revolution squirmed in your circuits to look on it, yet you knew that even had you consciously decided to turn away, you would find yourself unable.
--Something wrong with this place...--
As you listened to the sounds of the rusty shuttle landing and mooring itself inside the docking womb of the Warworld. You had been welcomed in without word or signal. Either Apeface had called ahead, or it was ridiculously easy for any bot to infiltrate the massive moon.
Leaving the shuttle, you entered a docking bay devoid of anything more than worker drones floating to and fro. The spherical hovering drones and their heavy arms were lifting and stocking supplies for ships here that seemed to run back and forth from the surface of Cybertron.
You stared about in wonder, before spotting a doorway that was indeed guarded by two Cybertronians... two identical Cybertronians.
Holding your head high, you made your way past the worker drones, until you stood facing the two massive clone-bots.
They were grayish blue, with yellow striping. Their build was heavy... immensely heavy. A thick tri-pronged plasma cannon sat on each ones shoulder, and a solitary red optic rotated back and forth above a thick grating of a faceplate. Their arms were wide and ended in grasper-like claws, and their legs bore treads for feet.
You waited for them to even look at you, but they merely stood staring straight ahead.
"You! Where is Clench!" you snapped at them.
Still, nothing.
The door in between the two monolithic Cybertronians slid open with a snap. Another Drone floated there, but this one was slightly different. It still was spherical, with a solitary optic, but it's arms were smaller, more advanced than the others, and it had two 'wings' sticking back from it's body.
It's optic rotated out, "I assume that you are the one called Spectre?"
--A talking drone?!--
"Yes. Who... what are you?"
The drone gives a sweeping bow, "I am simply a diagnostic drone, and I have been sent to lead you to the bridge."
"I've never seen a drone like you."
"Nor shall you, " the drone turns and begins to float down the hallway beyond the door. You take his lead and walk after him. "I am afraid that the matrix used to create my cerebral patterns was destroyed before it could be copied. I am a one of a kind product."
"But you seem to have your own personality."
"My circuits allow for such, but I am still restrained to drone status. I only do those things which I am asked or commanded to do. I merely have more mental capacity than say, those two lummox' that stand guard in that docking bay."
"Their drones?!"
"Yes. They are the first of the new line of Decepticon forces. After all, even with those that will soon be here from Earth, you number just over a hundred strong. There was need for some kind of policing force on Cybertron's surface. So, Clench, along with the wizardry of a Decepticon named Scavenger, created a their own forces. Those tank drones are the primary enforcers now in the streets of Cybertropolis."
You had stepped into a turbo lift and were speeding on your way through the dim halls of the Warworld.
--Just over a hundred!--
Their had been nearly thirty or so Decepticons on Earth. The thought that Clench had managed to take and hold all of Cybertron with no more than seventy Decepticons was mind numbing.
The door opened, and the drone motioned you out.
The room beyond was no doubt on a tower protruding from the Warworld's massive bulk. It was circular, covered with large panel windows showing Cybertron floating far below. In the center of the large room was a column of wires.
The column riveted your attention immediately. It was ten times as thick as you were, and through it's dense mass of twisted wires glittered electrical surges. The wires themselves seemed to twitch and shift as though they were alive, sliding over each other in a sinuous dance.
In it's center, near the floor's level a Cybertronian sat on a throne of sorts. wires extended from the column into a massive armored bracket that seemed to hook directly into his head. Video screens around him displayed various images from the surface below.
The eyes were dim at first, narrowed in concentration.
You see several monitors blink off, and his eyes open wider, brightening a bit.
The tall black Decepticon looked at you blankly for a second. Then, as if just gaining consciousness, he spoke.
"Welcome Spectre. I am Lord Clench. Master of Cybertron."
Cyebertron: The Warworld
You bow low, "Lord Clench, I bring news from Earth."
Hazy green optics peer out at you from beneath heavy, drowsy lids, "Spectre, Destron Captain turned Decepticon, eh?"
You straighten up proudly, "I was a Decepticon before we were disbanded, and my spark has always pulsed as that of a Decepticon."
Abruptly, the heavy Decpeticon warlord changed topics, "I suppose you bring me news from Earth."
"In a way. I was sent here because of a party of Cybertronians that has left as a advance scout from Earth. More importantly, there was one who may be with them that is Unicron spawned."
The eyes barely flickered, "Unicron? Unicron is dead."
"Perhaps, but this warrior appears to come from a time when he was not."
"So be it. Of what cause do I have to fear him?"
"None. I have orders to kill him."
A glimmer of amusement crossed the vague eyes, "Then so be it. Is there anything else to report?"
"The Armada is on it's way. Megatron advises to prepare."
"We are ready, there will be no survivors."
You nod, "There is one other concern I am to address."
"And that is?"
"Megatron wished to know about the Horn."
"It is... a symbol of the new regime."
"It is not one that Lord Megatron wishes to be associated or reminded of."
"Then he can remove it when he arrives." a note of sardonic humor tinged his voice.
"And what of the others that have come here?"
A series of wires pump up and down spasmodically on his harness, and from the mass of the collar there is movement. Wires slide and shift aside in a slithering thrust, and from the interior appears a Cybertronian body that was held fast within the thick column of pulsating metals. He was a transmetal, and you instantly recognized him from your research. He is the Maximal called Lightslayer, one of the 'crew' of the missing ship.
"You mean these others?" questioned Clench, again with that note of sarcasm.
"His friends have been dealt with, and now we are using his own technological structure to... experiment on. As you can see, all is quite in hand."
From beneath the silvery, oil covered mask you see a flicker of movement. One of the Maximal's eyes rolled open to look down at you.
And in that instant, you knew that he had gone insane. The eye was filled with pain and torture, and as the Maximal again sunk back into the column, you noted that the optic changed... changed to sheer horror.
You took a breath, "Then I will be about my duty. There has been no mention of the Decepticon named Deathspire?"
"None."
With that said, Clench leaned back, closing his eyes. The wires on his harness again began to pump and shift with activity, and monitors flashed before him with various images of the planet's surface.
You turned and left the leader of Cybertron's Decepticon Empire to his work.
As you wandered the hallways of the Warworld, you took the time to think to yourself.
Something was definitely weird here. The column, the harness... that Maximal...
Your mind was awash with questions. Foremost however was how to find Deathspire and finish your contract.
--Let's see. If he's here, he's disassociated himself from the 'crew' of the AWOL ship. That much seems apparent.--
But then, where does a Unicron spawned bone-bot go on Cybertron.
You asked the Warworld's computers to lead you to an empty quarters. There, you began a quick computer search, using an uplink system to search Cybertron's computers, discreetly, for any signs of a Cybertronian covered in bone-material.
Nothing, not a single sighting... wait... there was currently a communication being directed through the Warworld's systems...
"Soundwave! Soundwave! Roger Me, Wilco Me, Anything!" came a slightly panicked voice, "Oh slag! Well, if you can here me, a freakish creature just emerged from some blue pit here! It's black and covered with bones! Also, some other Decepticon, and he's also made of some bone crap, has gone up to it and called it 'Bladewing' whatever that means. I'm not sure what to make of it... I will try engaging cloaking device and record as much of this as I can. Vulcan out!"
You sit back, "How's that for timing..."
Cybertron: The Warworld
Soon, you were on a ship to the planet's surface again. You had traced
the signal to somewhere under the streets of the ruins of Iacon. As the small
shuttle descended, you took time to ponder what you had seen so far.
--I can not say that I like what Clench is doing to that Maximal...
not that I should care, of course, but it seems so.... It's just not as clean
as a kill, and not nearly as necessary as torture. But hen, neither can I
say that I like Clench himself, all that much. He should have more
respect for our lord Megatron.--
As the shuttle came to a landing, you put away your thoughts and headed out for
Iacon itself.
It only took you minutes to pass the borders of Cybertropolis, and into what
had only months ago been the heart of not only the city, but of Cybertron
itself. Now, it was no more than a ruin. You had heard that the
Decepticon's attacked here first, but you had never imagined the ferocity with
which they must had gone after it! The city was leveled. Rivers of
hardened slag slogged the streets, buildings lay in crumbling ruins, or leaned
against each other from where their walls were melted and pitted from the
firepower that must have rained down on them from the Warworld.
Here and there, you could see body parts sticking through the ashen ground, or
sightless cyber skulls leering up from the shattered windows...
It felt as if life would never return to this place. Yet, even on the
outskirts, you could see progress made to rebuild. Buildings already up
and operational in what could only have been a matter of days...
Bot's were now allowed into Cybertropolis freely, and according to the records,
were trading and working to restart the economy. It had only taken a few
weeks to put things in a shambles, but the Cybertronians would have it all
worked out very rapidly.
You neared the sight... it was almost dead center.
About fifteen cycles had passed, "This is Vulcan to unidentified
Decepticon, can you read me?"
You locked in the signal, and find one lone Decepticon down below you on the
street, you careen around and slow down for a better look.
"This is Spectre. What is your status."
"Low on energy. The parties over... and I suppose you were
Soundwave's idea of backup?"
You transform and land next to him. He was impressively large, and
transformed into a large tank. His colors were black and red. He
transformed into robot mode, one with thick arms ending in robot like graspers,
his cannon became slung over his shoulder, and his face bore a heavy mouthplate
and one red optic that rotated back and forth.
"No," you respond, "I am here on a mission involving the one you
referred to in your message."
"The monstrosity-bot?"
"No, the other one, the one made with 'the same bone crap?' His name
is Deathspire."
"Whoever he is, he's long gone, went chasing after that Bladewing
bot. I was returning to report to Clench now."
"Why not just recharge at a..." you stop yourself realizing that
there were no recharging stations in any state of repair around.
"Exactly. By the time I can return there will be little hope of
trailing them. But I do know what course heading they left on."
"Where then?"
"Oh no... first I need two things."
You sigh, " I don't have time for this..."
"Make time."
It would take you some time to find them on your own... he was your best chance
at locating Deathspire..."Ok. What do you want"
"First thing, I want to scan you."
"What?"
"Scan you... just a simple scan, won't take a second."
"Oooookaaaay..."
You hear a bleep and register the energy wave as it crosses your circuits.
His optic lights up a bit, "You're not infected!"
Cybertron: Iacon
The dark, brooding tank-bot looked you up and down, "Hrmm...
Have you been on Cybertron for long?"
"What do you mean, and what 'infection' are you talking about!?" you
had no patience for this.
"The reason I ask is that, well, I and most, if not all of the
Decepticon's around here seem to have this orange organic stuff on them."
He was blathering, and starting to get on your nerves, "Stuff? What
stuff... I see no stuff... What are you talking about?"
"You have to scan for it on the right frequency." He pauses for
a second and then opens an arm panel, displaying the wiring underneath.
Faintly, you can make out some kind of odd, glittering orange 'vein' running
through the normal circuitry, "There, this is the 'stuff'."
You look at in in repulsion, "Where did it come from?!"
"I'm not sure, but there's more. Any time I seem to take a lot of
damage, or if this stuff is really thick, I go into a berserker rage.
Anger engulfs me and I start fighting like a madman. I'm not sure it's
related, but it's been happening ever since I've noticed the growth."
"Hasn't anyone else noticed it?"
"Soundwave thinks that this is of no importance, but I'm sure that it's
all related to an insect I'm working on tracking. His name is
Scourge."
"Scourge? Look, what does all of this have to do with me. I've
got a mission to get on with. What's the other thing you want from me!?"
"I want you to keep tabs on that bone monster-bot. He's my best bet
at re-locating Scourge and another robot called Doctor Archeville."
You sigh, "I have to finish my mission first."
"Great, Deathspire and the Bone creature should be together. Kill
one, and keep an eye on the other. I'll be back down within 2 megacycles,
fully recharged and with new reinforcements."
"And you say you don't know how you got the infection?"
"No, only what I've told you... that reminds me," the Decepticon
activates his commlink, "Diagnostic Drone, what's the word on your
research?"
"I've found that the strange material is unlike any I've seen before, and
that it responds to certain electrical impulses." a curt voice comments
over the line.
Vulcan scratches his head.
You
open a line, piggybacking on his frequency, "Diagnostic Drone, this is
Spectre. What kind of electrical impulses does it react to."
"There are several related frequencies in the beta..."
"What about anger." you override the drones statement.
"Anger. Yes, anger may just emit the proper charge to activate the
substance..."
You shut off her comm, "So all I have to do is keep myself clear of
anger. From the looks of you, anger is probably your middle name."
He snorts, "Then you'll keep an eye on the monster-bot for me?"
You think for a second, "Ok, you've shown me a danger here, so I'll
do you this favor, but that's it...
"Good, then I'll be back to find you and this... Bone-creature. They went
off at this vector..."
When he finished relaying the information to you, he transforms and roll out, leaving you alone to pursue your quarry.
--Thank the matrix...--
You had the annoyed feeling that he had been looking your frame up and down as
he talked to you. But at least he did give you a few heads up on what may
prove a problem for Lord Megatron's return.
Cybertron: Iacon
--Controlling one's emotions is always desired... especially on a mission. One cannot allow one's judgment to become impaired.--
You engines hum softly as you climb up in the skies above the ruins of Iacon.
In segments you pick up Deathspire's signal. It was below... on the ground. You drifted down among the shattered buildings, transforming and landing softly amidst a charred chunk of granite...
You slid silently into the shadows amid the ruined slagpiles in the dead city. Quickly you moved along, careful to stay concealed.
Shortly, you find Deathspire. He was making his way, land bound, and from the looks of it, he was damaged badly. His bone white frame was charred badly, part of his wing claws was gone... sliced off... as was part of his frontal armor.
He seemed to walk unimpeded. He did, however, now seem to be traveling alone... and in the direction of the closest Cybertronian border.
This was the first time you had truly seen Deathspire... there was something definitely eerie about him...
His outer armor was composed entirely of smooth, bone-like material, his wings no more than skeletal fingers with deadly sharp ends. Blood red writing was etched on his legs, arms, and his wings... writing that was some kind of ancient Cybertronian.. You could not read it. He had no mouth, merely an indention in his hard white facial armor. Black streaks ran down from his eyes... as if he had cried ashen tears... and on his head was a crown of sharp horns.
He moved quickly, with a supernatural grace, taking little head of the rivers of hardened slag that coated the streets, or the pile of rubble that were strewn in his way.
Something about him seemed ghastly... seemed to be an impossibility... seemed to be an affront to nature.
You moved swiftly and silently beside him, among the darkened ruins.
--Hrmm.... if he was slagged out like this, it was likely from the other creature that Vulcan mentioned. I guess I won't have to worry about him calling for reinforcements.--
Also, if the other one wasn't here... perhaps that means that Deathspire took care of him. Something about that seemed unlikely.
You had looked up the dossier on Deathspire. He had been a rather accomplished Decepticon general back at the end of the Great Wars, and had continued to fight for some years after the signing of the Pax Cybertronia.
--This may not be a bot to underestimate...--
Cybertron : Iacon
--Strange that I must eliminate someone who once had such similar goals. I can certainly respect his choices after the Pax Cybertronia.--
But you had a mission, and your personal respect did not matter. He was wounded, and now was the opportune time to finish him off.
Still, a strategist like him should not be underestimated.
You stayed to the shadows, moving slowly into positiion, far in front of him, where you could take best advantage of the holes in his armoring.
Your optics scoped in, filtering out shadow and haze, locking into the weakened pieces of his armor.
Behind you was open, making for easy escape should things go awry.
Without hesitation you pull the trigger.
There was an flash of gold orange light as the single burst from your blaster bore into the bone armor of Deathspire.
The robot fell to his knees, smoke pouring from the wound.
As you watch, melting back into the darkness, you see compnents spill from the hole with the splash of mech fluids.
He looked up, but his optics were smoking, "From... shadows?! Bla... wing.... I will.... " He slumps to his side, a small fire smoldering in his chest.
You wait, sending a low level signal scan. It doesn't tell you much, but his systems were definitely slowing down. His remaining energy levels were draining toward the wound, possibly in an attempt to fix it.
You locked in and fired four shots, one to each limb, shattering his members.
Then you stepped closer.
His optics were dark, but still there was some energy within his system.
One arm and one leg had been completely disassociated from your volley, the others were shattered bad enough to no longer be a threat.
Reaching down, you pulled open his chest unit.
Shooting a Cybertronian was easy. Deactivating him was easy. This was the part that most bots could not bring themselves to do.
Grasping the inner panel you tore away the armored cover of his spark chamber.
Horror nearly forced you to recoil. What sat within was no spark, rather it was a metallic aberration of the heart of a Cybertronian. It pulsed, mimicking the beat of the life force of a true Cybertronian.
You stepped back from the horror, raising your gun without further hesitation...
--You are no Cybertronian.--
You pull the triger five times, the blasts burying themselves within the mechanical spark.You turn as the carcass shivers for a segment attemtping to hold back the energies that were releasing. You swear you hear it speak, "I will return."
You spin back, just as the shell explodes, forcing you to cover your face as Deathspire disappeared in a shattering fireball.
"Not likely." you turn and transform.
Cybertron:
Iacon
--Mission accomplished.--
Your mind replays the vision of the mutated, mechanical spark. Surely he was Unicron-spawn, to have such a horror within his body.
Now, to attend to the deal you made with 'Vulcan.' You trace back along where Deathspire had been, until you find the area where he had first began walking.
As you looked around, the energy signatures of battle were apparent, but you had no leads as to where Bladewing had gone...
You're commlink clicked on with an emergency Decepticon channel, "This is Vulcan on board the Warworld. We are under siege! There are Destron, as well as Maximal boarders. I can not raise Clench's command chambers. Get your tinplated butts over here pronto! I repeat, we are under siege!"
--Slag, well... I guess I had to return to it at some point.--
You transform, setting your sensor jammers. You didn't trust Clench, and you didn't want anyone to know you were coming...
You stood in the docking bay of the Warworld in mute disbelief.
You had gotten here unattested, and you think undetected. And upon landing, you found a battle scene. There were blast marks, shattered drones...
But that wasn't why you were stunned.
In the center of the ruined bots...
Next to the shuttle Vulcan had no doubt used to come here...
Was the Medusae.
You quietly moved around her, looking in absolute disbelief.
--This means that those blasted Destron assassins must be responsible for the damage...--
Just then you heard a noise, someone coming. You hid behind a smashed piece of equipment.
You see Deadcircuit come into the bay, dragging an orangish Maximal that had taken some serious wounds. Deadcircuit was actually if perfect health, looking as though he had just recently been rebuilt. He hoisted the Maximal onto his shoulder and turned to head towards the Medusae. His sigil was still Destron.
--But what was a Destron doing in a Decepticon war moon, carrying a wounded Maximal?--
Things here were very strange...
The
Warworld
--The Medusae, Deadcuit, and factions working together.--
You ponder as you watched him move toward the ship.
--Very odd. No doubt this means that the Destron Assassins are about as well.--
You make a quick decision as he neared the ship. You step out. Leveling your blaster at Deadcircuit.
"You have exactly fifteen seconds to explain why you function."
In typical fashion, Deadcircuit answered in his monotone, literal fashion.
"I function do to energon and it's flow through the circuits in my structure. Now, I have to ask, why have you come? To take back that which you relinquished? Could it be that you have finally decided to get up and find the strength to fight for what was yours?"
You gun hums, "I'm warning you. I don't have the patience for this Deadcircuit."
"Oh... I see. You now bear the sigil of the Decepticons. I guess that you truly have returned to your roots then. Though I had never estimated that you would go so far as to join those aligning themselves with chaos."
"Chaos? What the pitt are you blathering about?!"
"Surely you don't believe that something like the Horn could be attached to this ship without it reviving some semblance of the dark god?"
"Look, I don't have time for this. I want to whose side you are on... and if it's the Destrons, what exactly are you planning on doing with that Maximal?"
"I am on the side that seeks to destroy this base. I plan to repair this Maximal."
You keep your gun leveled, not quite sure what this meant, and how it applied to your own situation.
"In the ship." you motion with the gun.
The Medusae had not changed much in the past few weeks. A quick run through of the computers showed that the Destrons had not tampered with many of the programs. You had let Deadcircuit drop the Maximal into a CD chamber, with it's settings on stasis rather than reactivation. Now, he stood where you could keep an eye on him.
"Who is here with you?"
He remains silent.
"Look... I'm really not in the mood for this. Tell me who you were came with?"
"I came hidden on board this ship. The assassins you allowed to take control had left me for dead."
"Then you aren't aligned with them?"
"Negative."
--Well, at least there's that...--
But you still weren't comfortable enough to let your guard down.
"How did you get rebuilt?"
Silence.
"Who is attacking the Warworld?"
"The Destrons. They have a new leader."
"A leader? Who?!"
"His name is Gigano. He is one of the Destron Generals."
You lean back in the command seat...
--One of the Destron Generals!?--
You had thought the Councils were all destroyed in the attack on Iacon. If one had survived... well, it was no wonder that Vulcan had sent the request for help.
"Computer, scan Warworld and give account of sigils on board."
--There are three Destron, three Decepticon, three Maximal.--
"Three Destron... myself and two of the Assassins. Or an assassin and a General."
"More likely the latter." Deadcircuit comments.
"Agreed. Then three Maximals. The one you have and two others. Interesting. And three Decepticons! Myself, Vulcan... and who?"
You looked at Deadcircuit but no answer was forthcoming.
"You hide that one specifically... could it be that you were rescued by another Decepticon?"
"Not one of these Decepticons." he stated simply.
"Computer, any approaching vessels yet?"
--Affirmative. There are several Decepticon battleships approaching.--
"Which of the onboard sigils are together?"
--The two Decepticons, and two of the Maximals are engaged in a firefight. They are being approached by one of the Destrons sigils. On board this ship are a Destron, a Maximal, and a Decepticon sigil. The remaining Destron sigil is alone.--
You sit back and decide your next move.
The
Warworld: The Medusae
-- How does Deadcircuit manage to be so annoying?!--
If you had the time, you might interrogate him properly. You didn't appreciate the game he was playing, but he was not the issue for the moment.
"Computer give me the estimated arrival of the Decepticon Warships?"
--Five Cycles.--
--Not long...--
They were all reacting to Vulcan's plea for help, but the question still remained who is currently in control. If Vulcan couldn't reach Clench, that could me he's offline... There was the last 'Con, but from Deadcircuit's reaction, you would guess that the Decepticon was someone else...
"You're hear to get rid of that horn, right?"
"That is part of the current plan."
"So be it. I'm relatively on your side then. I want rid of that horn. But you'll have to queue me in a bit more on what is going on."
Silence.
"Look, my loyalty is to Megatron now, not to that slag sucking Clench. Besides, it wasn't in the deal for those assassins to do off my crew, not to mention attempting to off me, and steal my ship in the process!"
"Steal? I believe you handed it to them, without a word of complaint."
"I was never meant to be a captain!"
"But you were. You gave up your responsibility to your ship and your crew and in that action betrayed me as well as Stormcloud and Marker."
You bit back the sharp response. His barb had hit home. Stormcloud... Marker... their deaths were your responsibility.
"Then I'm here to set things right."
Deadcircuit simple looks at you for a second.
"You heard me. I can't bring back the others. I can't change the mistakes I have made. I can make sure that these Destrons end up buried in the past."
You lock eyes with Deadcircuit for a long segment.
"The Decepticon who rescued me is named Zabgoth. He came from Earth as well, and has a personal grudge against the same Destron assassins."
You breath a sigh of relief, "Now we're getting somewhere... Who..."
A light flashes on the console, you look and see that a group has entered the hangar. The Decepticon, a robot with the markings of some kind of armor hybrid. His face was skull-like, and had great horns that curved out from his head. A chrome engine gave off wisps of smoke on his chest, and he held a heavy hammer in his hands. He was mostly black with flamework on his armor.
Quickly you react, shutting on an outside spotlight and arming the defenses. You tap in a computer generated voice response.
Oustide the group froze as the light hit them, and you hear the ship peacefully request, "Please hold position for identification."
The others in the group included a monstrous looking creature, black armor and bone wings. With a skull that bore a solitary red optic. His arms and legs also had bone-like material instead of metallic composition.
Then there was a Maximal, a Bison. Shaggy and brown, he seemed to have injury marks on him, which would also explain his being in beast mode.
Behind him there was what appeared to be another Maximal in an exosuit made of tank-drone leftovers. He had two of the huge drone plasma cannons on his shoulders, and also carried the heavily damaged and offline form of Vulcan over his shoulder.
The
Warworld: The Medusae
--Zabgoth... I recall that name. He was on the ship that went AWOL before our arrival
on earth. Yes, the assassins were out for him, I believe. I also recall that he
was Destron.--
You stare curiously at the group as they seemed to pause to decide what to do. The Zabgoth was an odd creature. His armor registered as partially the same as the Vehicons, but he also had a more organic face, with a cyber-skull leering through, and two long horns rising from above his head. Smoke seemed to seep out of the brilliantly chromed engine on his chestplate.
--So, has he switched...or switched back, to Decepticon allegiance, or he is
pretending to be Decepticon for ease of movement while on Cybertron.--
And to further matters, was he counted as a Decepticon of Earth, or a Decepticon of Cybertron. If he did not know the two were connected it could get messy.
-- At the moment, I don't suppose it matters much. We share at least a
grudge against the assassins, and for again for the moment, that should be
enough.--
He steps forward, this Zabgoth, shaking his head violently at the others, "If you're inclined to help me kill some Destrons, then I'm not the kind of guy you want to slag." He yells to the ship. You chuckle, he certainly had steel bearings. You activate the real comm, "Zabgoth, eh? I think we do hold a common enemy. Board quickly and I will meet you in the hold."
Their small group met you in the ships hold. Deadcircuit had informed you that they were Zabgoth, Lightslayer... in the exo-suit getup, Bonecrusher... the bison, but the one with black armor and bone-like wings... Deadcircuit had not seen him before.
--A creature with the bone wings... bone... like Deathspire? Could this be
Bladewing, the one Vulcan..the now offline Vulcan... was after?--
"Greetings," you start in a cool voice, "My
name is Spectre."
A light seems to click on in Zabgoths head as he snaps his fingers, "You were the captain of this ship!"
"Indeed. The Destrons took it from me and left me stranded on Earth. I came here through a spacebridge on a mission to eliminate a robot that followed your group on your covert mission."
"What?" Lightslayer gaped, "Followed?! We weren't followed by anyone."
The dark armored bone creature chuckles with an eerie echoed voice, "No, she's right. We were followed, and by Deathspire. Why exactly were you sent to kill him though?"
You think back to the rosters of the AWOL ship. There was a Bladewing onboard!
"Because he was Unicron Spawn." you state matter of factly, "His position was unknown and therefore he could not be allowed to continue existing."
"You talk in past tense." Zabgoth interjects.
"My mission has been completed. At least in part." you admit.
"Part?"
"The next part was to eliminate the horn that is on the Warworld. It is a blemish that can not be allowed to exist."
Lightslayer nods, "Then I'm all for it. She's right Zabgoth, " he turns toward Zabgoth, "This 'Warworld' must be stopped. There's something.... unnatural about it. Something that's feeding on the anger generated by others."
"That's what he said." You indicate the deactivated body of Vulcan, "He had found something... and found some way to scan for it. He referred to it as a virus."
Bonecrusher snorted, "Then maybe we'd better bring him back online and see what he kno..."
The ship shuddered.
"What the pit was..." Lightslayer starts.
"Spectre, Zabgoth." It was Deadcircuit's voice on the loudspeakers, "You guys better get up here."
The Decepticon battleships were lining up outside of the Warworld. Still confused as to what was going on, they merely wandered in a defensive formation.
"What are they doing?" Zabgoth looks at the monitors, confused.
Your eyes narrow as you take in their positions... they were drifting, randomly, "They aren't sure. They were called here because of Vulcan's communication. They think the Warworld's under attack, but they were expecting the Cybertronian Armada to be doing the attacking."
Deadcircuit adds, "They tried to hail the Warworld, and when that wasn't successful they fired a warning shot."
"Why hasn't Gigano attacked them?" Lightslayer wonders.
"There's too many of them." Zabgoth points out, but Lightslayer shakes his head in the negative, "Those ships are running on skeleton crews at the best. The Warworld could easily wipe them out. Even with only one person at it's helm!"
You lean over, getting a better look at the monitor, "There must be some reason... Deadcircuit, scan on all frequencies. What are we missing."
The Destron moved to reply, and in seconds an overlay of an energy-prismatic effect was displayed over the surrounding space.
"What the pit..." Bonecrusher started.
"It is the early warning signs of several Warp signatures." Deadcircuit answered.
"The Cybertronian Fleet!" Lightslayer breathed.
Space began to warp into a prismatic vortex as ships begin to appear all around. Maximal Explorers, Destron Destroyers, Cybertronian Crusaders... at the center of the formation appeared a massive complex of a creation, as if two city-sized vehicles were attached to either side of a ship. You recognize them as Trypticon and Metroplex, both attached in the middle through Admiral Backdraft's ship, the Soulfire.
Time had run out.
End of NWNG: General Statement