Beast Wars: Second Coming

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Scrapper6, Aug 22, 2006.

  1. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    This is a Fanfic Series set in the distant future of the Marvel Earth I created for my other Fanfic; I don't feel like getting into the whole history right now, the story will hopefully be enjoyable to all you Beast Wars fans.

    Episode One

    The planet Cybertron had changed over the years; Iacon the great city of the Autobots had been replaced with Cybertropilis, a name that had been chosen by some human friends of the race. The wars were no longer a threat; they had become a thing of the past, exploration was the key and both Maximals and Autobots lived seeking out new life forms and new civilizations.
    The Predacons and those few Decepticons who survived the Great Wars lived in peaceful co-existence; the Maximals offered many opportunities for their fellow Cybertronians, but some continued to feel stifled and undermined by the secretive Maximal Elders. Still that was to be expected; the great Maximal Academy allowed all admittance, no matter faction or indeed race for some Humans had moved to Cybertron when their planet became too small to house their populace… Indeed one of the teachers was even human; and many Maximals enjoyed his class immensely, still on some days he was called upon for special assignment.
    Such as today; and then he was gone the students sometimes grew restless, but they knew he’d be back whole and hearty once again…

    Prelude to War

    Today Optimus Primal had returned triumphant from the Beast Wars victorious; the Council was now discussing what should be done about Megatron, killing him wasn’t exactly a guarantee that future trouble would be avoided. The Elders were obviously having difficulty reaching a mutually acceptable resolution to this conundrum; and so had called in one of the oldest living members of the Council to help deliberate.

    “Eh I’m tellin’ ya Cheetor they ain’t nevah gonna figure out what to do with ol’ dragon breath.” Rattrap muttered aside to the youngest member of the Axalon crew; Cheetor shook his head his transmetal two form tensing up slightly.

    “I hope you’re wrong RT.” He returned with a low growl; Rhinox shook his head and would have said something if the Council member in question hadn’t arrived just then.

    “This better be important I have a new curriculum to prepare for.” He grumbled striding down the stairs and entering the grand audience chamber; Optimus Primal turned to regard the council member a rare smile on his lips, the young looking human took his seat at the large council pew. The Maximal Elders smiled secretively; most of them had been taught by the surprisingly old man and knew he was putting on an act of curmudgeonly old man for the masses.

    “We were trying to reach a decision regarding Megatron.” Elder Prowl stated.

    “Yes; he must be dealt with swiftly, he is most cunning that one.” Elder Ironhide agreed; the young man propped his feet up and shrugged indifferently, there was a gasp of surprise in the audience at his sheer audacity.

    “So kill him and be done with it.” He stated casually.

    “Taking the life of even an enemy should not be handled so lightly or callously.” Elder Silverbolt countered; the young man sighed and leaned forward.

    “Look we’re talking about a rogue element here; even the Tripredacus Council wants him dead, there is no chance for rehabilitation, he didn’t take the name Megatron for nothing.” He stated certainly. “He’s already damaged the timeline; who cares if it was pre-ordained, and there’s no telling what he might do if left unchecked.” He added sagely.

    “I would have to agree with Elder Rutherford on this.” Primal spoke up his impressive transmetalized form towering above the elders. “Megatron is too big of a threat to simply leave behind bars.” He stated.

    “The Council does not share your views.” Elder Ironhide stated; a murmur filled the room and Elder Rutherford shot his counterpart a glare.

    “You’re only asking for trouble.” He stated darkly. “And why ask me here if you won’t even listen to what I have to say?” He demanded.

    “You are a trusted member of this council, but you are not a Maximal; we can not execute Megatron.” Elder Prowl stated; Elder Rutherford climbed from his seat and began to leave.

    “We did not dismiss you.” Elder Chromia spoke up at last venturing to speak.

    “You have no need for me; you may share the names of past Autobots, but your tenure in office has left much to be desired. Primus did not choose to speak with me because I sat around discussing options in a committee.” Elder Rutherford shot back his eyes glistening with raw emotion. “Placate yourselves however you wish, just leave me out of any further indecisive meetings; I am a warrior, not a politician.” He snapped before whirling on his heels and vacating the council citadels’ main audience chamber; Primal and several others watched him go with uncertainty.

    “Dat one has bearin’s oh chrome steel; hey Rhinox?” Rattrap remarked; his hulking friend smiled and also turned to leave.

    “Come on Rattrap; I don’t think we’re going to like this outcome.” He stated striding out of the main chambers’ upper levels relatively unnoticed; Rattrap and Cheetor were quick to follow.

    Rutherford grumbled to himself as he made his way out of the Council Citadel; when Prime approached him to become one of the founding members of the Council he had readily accepted, living on Earth had grown stale with his team and closest friends all dead. His family still occasionally visited their home planet; its’ how he got even more grandchildren running around his palatial estate, but Cybertron had become their home now.
    As he left the idiotic stalemate behind the Council’s chief of security joined him a smile etched across his lips.

    “Didn’t listen huh?” He asked rhetorically.

    “I taught this new generation of Elders back when the Autobots were still the dominant faction.” Rutherford snapped. “Those idiots have forgotten how to make decisions; always debating everything and ignoring my council, I tell ya Snarl Rodimus would be hard pressed not to knock a couple heads around if he was still here.” He grumbled ranting as he often did in his old age; the man was over five hundred years old these days.

    “If you say so Elder.” Snarl returned. “Do you want to see the prisoner?” He asked; Rutherford shook his head.

    “Nah, but if you could spare a few men; I think I’ll be paying an impromptu visit with an old friend.” He returned; Snarl nodded and pointed one hand to some of his guards standing near the room they were currently passing.

    “Longhorn, Gekobot accompany Elder Rutherford to the Soryhex region.” He ordered; the stocky red unit nodded and the lithe bluish purple unit quickly hopped into motion striding swiftly alongside the human who barely reached their chest manifolds in height.

    The Tripredacus Council met in secret upon their personal space station; they had spent years secretly building up the forces they’d need for an army, but they had yet to make their move. All had to go as it had been calculated; since their defeat at the hands of the chosen vessel millions of years ago they had long fallen out of favor with their true master.
    But Megatron had proven to be most problematic and his return presented somewhat of a problem for their own plans.

    “We must send an assassin to deal with this.” Cicadacon stated; he did not look the same as he used to, for long ago had the three of them shed their beast forms.

    “Who could we trust on such a delicate mission?” Ramhorn wondered. “Tarantulas is no more and the others are far too well known to breach the Citadel undetected.” He pointed out; Cicadacon nodded, but Seaclamp shook his head, he had an idea.

    “Maybe what we need is to activate our sleeper agent.” He mused a smile spreading across his lips.

    “But they’re not yet ready.” Cicadacon countered. “We wanted them in position to assassinate the Elders; this would jeopardize that.” He reminded; Ramhorn slammed his fist on the table.

    “We do not have time to plot out a concise plan Cicadacon; the Elders will just have to wait their turn, Megatron must be eliminated before whatever contingency plan he has already enacted reaches fruition.” The bulky brute force member of the Council stated vehemently; Cicadacon reluctantly agreed and turned to Seaclamp.

    “Send the signal.” He ordered; Seaclamp smiled knowingly.

    “It has already been done.” He informed; Cicadacon nodded with approval and the three of them began to go over their plans for the unknown future time.

    Soryhex was a Predacon controlled sector of the planet; a city that had little in the way of Maximal values, petty theft was common and the public transport systems were in a state of disrepair, but Rutherford felt more comfortable here. Here he knew the score; punks were beaten rather mercilessly by the Predacon Secret Police and the victims weren’t so helpless. Lawlessness was the watch word, but at least meandering political debates weren’t always rearing their ugly heads; Longhorn and Gekobot took up guard positions on either side of the human as he marched straight for the Oil House as it was called.
    The proprietor happened to be a former pupil of his; one that could be trusted to enact discreet missions, or locate someone who could. Despite his distaste for political machinations he was most capable at it; and the Elder’s could do nothing against him, it paid to be a well respected nigh-immortal champion of Primus.

    “Al.” The bulky green and black Predacon called out joyfully. “An honor to see you again old friend.” He greeted; Rutherford smiled and inclined his head as Longhorn and Gekobot established a perimeter.

    “Likewise Retrax, but I’m afraid this won’t be a social call.” He returned; Retrax sobered up his faceplate losing its’ approximation of a smile.

    “Megatron.” He stated certainly; Al nodded as he took a seat and leaned forward.

    “It has to be done, for the sake of Cybertron’s delicate balance.” The young man returned; Retrax sighed and proceeded to wipe clean a glass with an oily rag.

    “You don’t ask much of a unit do ya.” He grumbled lightly; Rutherford sighed, he’d known this day would come.

    “I know you and he were friends back in school Retrax, but he tried to erase the timeline.” The Elder pointed out; Retrax tossed his rag aside and nodded slightly, no trace of reluctance in his demeanor.

    “Yeah; yeah; look I know a couple of guys, they’ll get it done, usual time?” He asked; Rutherford nodded. “They’ll be there, but listen; you better be right about this.” Retrax grumbled.

    “Have I ever let you down before?” He asked; the Predacon shook his head and Rutherford got to his feet. “Goodbye old friend; I hope our next meeting won’t be under such dire circumstances.” He stated before taking his leave.

    “You and me both human.” Retrax muttered before turning back to his customers.

    Elder Rutherford’s house was located in Trinity sector; the district where most human immigrants chose to live, it had been terra formed with gardens and rivers and other necessary amenities for human needs. His home happened to be the largest; due to his work as a Council member he needed a good sized building to house the assorted sizes of Cybertronians that occasionally stopped over.
    Optimus Primal led his team through the streets intent on meeting with the Elder to discuss further strategy; Rattrap, Rhinox, Cheetor and Black Arachnia accompanied him, Silverbolt was helping to guard the prisoner. Rattrap had to ring the doorbell because it was situated at a height favorable only to him; a woman answered the door listening to someone on the other end of an odd contraption, they looked like headphones.

    “Yeah?” She asked glancing up indifferently at the Maximals.

    “Is Elder Rutherford home?” Primal asked politely; the woman shrugged.

    “Probably; I haven’t seen him yet.” She replied then she left the doorway ignoring the guests.

    “Jerrica!” A new voice scolded from inside. “You’ll have to excuse my cousin Optimus; apparently manners aren’t enforced through multiple generations.” The new woman apologized on behalf of the younger woman. “Grandpa should be home any nano; come on in and wait.” She invited with a warm smile.

    “Man; how many kids does dis guy got?” Rattrap muttered aside as the Maximals entered the house and discovered numerous women and one teenaged boy milling about.

    “Jacquie!” One of the girls said to another in an annoyed tone; both of them were laying on the floor coloring. “Stop hogging all the crayons.” She complained.

    “Oh look it’s the Beast Warriors!” The third girl exclaimed leaping to her feet; Rattrap took a step back at that in confusion.

    “How do they know about the Beast Wars?” Cheetor asked eyeing Optimus warily.

    “The short answer is we came from an alternate universe.” A teenaged girl replied with a smirk; she had a pair of false glasses on to make her appear smarter, and she was wearing a style not seen on Earth in centuries. “The long answer is dad’s a geek and he drills the Transformers history into us every chance he gets’.” She added turning back to the book in her hand; Cheetor eyed her uncertainly.

    “Dis is weirder then when we went Transmetal.” Rattrap muttered; one of the older women approached, though it was hard to tell since they all looked close to twenty-five.

    “If you’d follow me I’ll show you to the audience chamber.” She said smiling; Primal nodded and allowed the woman to lead them from the main room, and away from the confusion. As the group ventured down the halls they spotted tons of flickering holo-images; one of them showed a young man with the venerable Autobot Bumblebee, another showed a group of girls and women standing around a big sign that said Jem and the Holograms benefit concert two thousand ten.
    A third showed a man in red and blue spandex fighting against a green and purple clad person on a gliding device; a fourth massive image depicted the fierce battle of two thousand fifteen, when Autobot City was attacked and several warriors died trying to defend it. There were literally tons of memories; and the woman paused only once to place a hand on the image of a young girl who looked so happy and full of life, Black Arachnia looked curiously at the girl.

    “She was one of ours; one not gifted with the curse of longevity.” She supplied; finally the group reached a massive set of double doors, the woman let them in revealing an impressively large room with an ornately crafted desk and other assorted furnishings.
    “My husband will be here momentarily; in the mean time feel free to make yourself at home.” She said before leaving; Rattrap grinned and moved to sit down on the recliner, he propped his feet up and placed his hands behind his head.

    “Dis Elder knows how ta treat a fellow.” He remarked closing his optics.

    “So many memories.” Rhinox remarked picking up a picture of a group of colorfully clothed individuals.

    “Yeah.” Cheetor agreed. “He’s like a living piece of history; too bad I never took his class.” He added shifting into beast mode out of habit and curling up on the floor the picturesque feline pose.

    “Some of this equipment is unique; and it seems to run on matter, anti-matter converters.” Black Arachnia noted picking up the desk lamp curiously; Primal managed to find a seat that would suit his bulky frame and sat down.

    “I hope he can force the Council to re-evaluate their decision.” He stated with a sigh; Rhinox nodded concurrently and returned the picture to the desk.

    “Forcing the issue won’t get those archaic politicians to change their mind.” Black Arachnia countered choosing a seat in the shadows and relaxing her guard at last, she eyed her claws as though inspecting them after a manicure; her transmetal two form was extremely pleasing to her optics.

    “A fact I regrettably concur with.” Elder Rutherford stated as he materialized out of thin air with a whining sound.

    “How’d you?” Rattrap began eyeing the Elder uncertainly; Rutherford grinned as he moved to sit behind his desk.

    “Did you truly think I shared all of my tech with the Autobots?” He asked slyly pulling up to the desk and folding his hands in front of him as he leaned forward.

    “A pleasure to see you again.” Primal greeted; the Elder nodded and shook his hand, well finger to hand anyway, the sheer size of Primal’s lone index finger in the grip of the human’s small hand put things in extreme perspective.

    “Always good to see you Primal; you were tops in my class that one year.” He said with a smirk. “A far cry better than old Rapido here.” He added shooting Rattrap a knowing look.

    “Eh; I prefer Rattrap now.” He returned indifferently; Rutherford nodded and then turned back to Primal.

    “If you’ve come here to ask me to try and change their minds; I can already tell you it’s a waste of time, those four have lost sight of why we exist here.” He stated. “The Council used to serve the people; now all it does is serve its’ own goals, I fear corruption has begun to weed its’ way into the Elders sparks.” He admitted.

    “No way; I know those four.” Rhinox countered slapping his right palm with his left fist. “We served together; they would never allow themselves to be corrupted.” He exclaimed with certainty.

    “You don’t know them anymore; things have changed, they didn’t even want to send the probes to search for you, I had to falsify orders just to get Commander Grimlock to launch them.” Elder Rutherford revealed.

    “You aren’t serious.” Primal returned in shock.

    “Dead serious.” Rutherford returned with a slow nod; climbing to his feet he claimed a drink from the replicator on the far left wall. “I firmly believe that they’d try to kill me if they could, just to get me off the ruddy council.” He added taking a sip.

    “That’s preposterous.” Rhinox snapped his optics narrowed.

    “Eh; I don’t know big green, I wouldn’t put it passed’em.” Rattrap observed. “Dese are da guys’ dat okayed ol’ crabcakes after all.” He pointedly reminded.

    “I can’t believe they’d change so much.” Rhinox said with a shake of his head. “I refuse to believe.” He added eyeing Rutherford pointedly.

    “People change.” Black Arachnia commented speaking up again as she crossed her legs and once again eyed her claws as if they were human nails.

    “The Council are complacent; there have been no wars for millennia, not since the Decepticon Thunderwing returned and fell to Rodimus Prime.” Rutherford remarked pacing as he spoke. “The Matrix; or I should say Primus, will most likely bring about another conflict so that he can learn and grow.” He added with a sigh.

    “Learn and grow?” Primal repeated confused.

    “As someone once said; the Matrix releases us so that we can learn and grow, and when we die it can learn and grow.” Rutherford recited with a smirk. “Conflict; even destructive conflict can oftentimes lead to greater personal growth, just look at Cheetor.” He observed sagely.

    “Aw man; we just got finished fightin’ a war.” Rattrap complained.

    “That was no war.” The Elder shot back whirling to glare at Rattrap. “That was the equivalent of a boarder skirmish, or perhaps one of those old Earth police actions… No; you haven’t seen a real war Rattrap, and I pray you never do because if Megatron manages to escape before my assassins get him we could be faced with a very real war.” He added with a tired sigh.

    “Assassins?” Rhinox asked; Rutherford smiled darkly.

    “Spider’s spin their webs, but I spin them larger.” He quoted. “And Predacons have their uses, they aren’t all power hungry lunatics after all.” He added; Rattrap snorted at that, but Primal looked rather confused and Black Arachnia seemed insulted by his insinuations.

    “You hired Predacons to assassinate Megatron?” Primal repeated seeking clarification; Rutherford nodded.

    “How can ya trust dem?” Rattrap demanded; Rutherford grinned as he sipped his drink.

    “Because Retrax was not only one of my top students; he was best friends with Megatron, and I let him in on some of my secrets pertaining to him.” He informed. “Believe me Retrax can be trusted; I’m just glad you remembered my lessons about leaving your enemies shackled to the hull of your starship.” He added eyeing Primal knowingly; the Maximal leader averted his gaze, he always wondered why the Elder enforced such an odd rule in his lessons, now he understood that somehow he had known the future… And if he hadn’t thought to drill the consequences into his head he might have actually done something as foolish as that; then who knows what Megatron could be doing instead of being trapped in prison, little did he know that Megatron would not be so detained for much longer.

    The Council Citadel was about to be the site of history in the making; Silverbolt, Optimus Primal’s crew member not the Maximal Elder, was currently overseeing the securement of Megatron for transport. Without warning one of the guards turned on her fellow Maximals and opened fire; Sonar leapt at Skydive and lashed out with one of her long claws, she tore a gash across his chest and nearly pierced his spark.
    Drill Bit was kicked across the room and collided with the cells’ energy bar controls, he shorted out and fell into stasis; Silverbolt and Hammer Strike were then taken out simultaneously by someone from outside the room startling Sonar.

    “Ah; I see the Tripredacus Council has managed to insert a sleeper agent into their midst, highly indicative of treason, wouldn’t you agree Megatron?” The unseen unit stated entering the cell fully and depressing the power band controls; Megatron stretched his wings and smiled knowingly.

    “As usual all proceeds according to my grand design.” The despot stated smirking as he turned to regard the pitiful form of Sonar.

    “My orders are to eliminate you.” She said preparing to die in her attempt most likely; Megatron shook his head and raised his arm cannon.

    “So sorry, but I do have to disappoint you now.” He informed before opening fire; his ice blast froze the traitorous Maximal solid keeping her alive so as to face the consequences of her actions.

    “We should hurry up; Elder Rutherford usually doesn’t leave the security systems off for too long.” The unseen savior stated; Megatron nodded and followed after his benefactor, he had planned for all contingencies and as usual he was not disappointed. Together the two of them escaped the Citadel and made their way into the warehouse district of Cybertropilis; here Megatron’s former captor smiled.

    “I see our plans worked better then we could have hoped, yesssss.” Megatron remarked with a smile; the other unit nodded and began silently securing the perimeter.

    “Elder Rutherford is far too predictable; I easily managed to kill his pitiful assassins.” The other informed sneering at the human’s apparent incompetence little suspecting that perhaps the human had engineered things that way for the benefit of all.

    “A pity you can not remain here to assist me Elder Silverbolt.” Megatron began regarding the form of the Maximal Elder. “Or should I say; Spy Streak?” He mused with a smirk; the Maximal Elder chuckled as he examined his current form.

    “Transplanting my spark in this corpse worked better then we could have ever hoped lord Megatron; the virus you asked me to fabricate however is incapable of being unleashed, there is a fatal flaw in the design matrix.” He revealed with a carefully modulated sigh; the numerous vats of glowing cyber venoms surrounding the room were now useless to their goals.
    “Elder Rutherford already knows about your true motives; how do you intend to purge your beast mode now?” He wondered; Megatron chuckled and eyed a computer terminal briefly calling up a list of names, they were all his operatives, warriors who had stayed behind just in case.

    “No matter; it shall be seen to in due course, I have grown rather attached to it at the moment.” He stated; Spy Streak nodded and hopped up to one of the windows.

    “I’ve got to get back before I’m missed, what should I do about Sonar?” He inquired; Megatron smirked darkly and rubbed his chin in brief thought.

    “For the moment nothing; she may prove useful in her own rights one day.” He ordered; Spy Streak nodded and quickly took his leave, leaving Megatron alone to prepare for his next move. “The Beast Wars are over; and alas I have lost.” He said aloud thinking with his words rather than his mind. “As I knew I would; there are no guarantees when you attempt re-writing history, and so… It is time to make history of my own, yesssss.” He stated smiling darkly as he began the process of contacting his second team of specialized warriors; Cybertron would soon be the battle ground of a new war, and this time not even Optimus Primal could stop him.

    To Be Continued

    Let me know what you think of the new characters introduced; and the story in general if you please, I've got chapter two just itching to join it's comrade... BEAST WARS!
  2. Apocalypse-Prime

    Apocalypse-Prime Active Member

    Aug 24, 2006
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    This is a Great story i hope you continue. Also is this an alternat time line in which there was no Beast machines or Am i confused?
  3. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    To answer your question; at first I wanted to eliminate Beast Machines, but the more I work on this the more I think I'm just building up to write my own version of Beast Machines. Also; yes this is an alternate timeline/universe. As evidenced by the references to Marvel super heroes; Earth 929 is my alternate Transformers Marvel universe, where the Transformers Comic did not splinter off from the mainstay Marvel universe. Where characters like the X-Men and Spider-Man constantly interacted with the ancestors of the Maximals and Predacons, AKA Autobots and Decepticons, and where GIJoe, The Transformers and Jem and the Holograms were all part of Marvel continuity.

    Elder Rutherford has different origins; he originates from a Universe called Earth Prime and became a super hero during events depicted in my non-Transformers related fanfics. It was during those fics that he also became Primus' chosen; due to events surrounding one of Wheeljacks more dangerous inventions, and the fact that Rutherford's original universe, Earth Prime is pretty much exactly like ours. Where the Transformers are toys and cartoons, and never really existed; because of this he had knowledge of what to expect at the end of Beast Wars and as indicated in the dialogue near the end, managed to ensure that Primal wouldn't make the mistake of stowing Megatron on the roof of the shuttle for transport.

    I may have just confused you more; ah well, confusion might not be such a bad thing in this instant if it makes someone want to read more to find out what the story might reveal. I'll post Episode Two later in the week; and I've already got Episode Three and Four waiting in the wings, as long as more readers express some inkling of interest after I've posted chapter two then I'll work on the story faster and sooner, but if not... Well patience is a virtue as they say.
  4. bryan_too

    bryan_too is Deadpool

    Jul 14, 2006
    Trophy Points:
    Wow,nice storyline.Will be waiting for more!
  5. Apocalypse-Prime

    Apocalypse-Prime Active Member

    Aug 24, 2006
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    Thanks for Clearing that up i didn't really like BM.
  6. bryan_too

    bryan_too is Deadpool

    Jul 14, 2006
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    Same here.The storyline is nice...but the characters just look terrible...
  7. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    Here you go people; Episode Two, enjoy...

    The hulking Predacon sipped his mech fluid with his lone hand slowly; it hadn’t been easy, but the Council got them all released on a technicality, which had irked Big Convoy and his crew. It was said the Maximal Elder had taken off for deep space; the unknown Predacon eyed his current shorter companion, having adapted beast modes off planet they received wide berths by most of the Cybertronian citizens.

    “You’re sure about this?” He asked; the smaller unit nodded and his companion stroked the cup in thought.

    “We’ve been at half strength since we lost the Angolmoise energy.” The short unit pointed out; his taller companion’s yellow optics flickered with remembered power.

    “But how do we know Magmatron will be able to lead us again?” He questioned; the shorter one chuckled.

    “Prison has been known to never keep a Predacon for long.” He reminded; the taller unit shook his head with a sigh.

    “I’ll come to this meeting, but I make no promises Dead End.” He relented; Dead End nodded, the Predacon hadn’t expected much of his former ship mate after all they had still spent over a stellar cycle in lock up.

    “There’s no commitments at this first meeting Killer Punch; Magmatron is weeding out the unwanted elements.” He informed; Killer Punch nodded and chugged the last of his mech fluid slamming the empty glass down, the way his cranial unit had been crafted it almost looked like he wore the helmet of an ancient Earth warrior.

    “The days of Maximal superiority won’t be much longer.” He stated a dark glint in his optics; Dead End would have smiled if he had a mouth, instead he did his best to approximate the gesture and ordered a mech fluid of his own to celebrate recruiting Killer Punch again.

    Elder Rutherford sat behind his home office desk contemplating the recent escape of Megatron; the Council had sent out the defense forces and Optimus Primal was hunting the convict as well, he was most displeased that his plan to eliminate the threat of Megatron had failed, then again it had always been distasteful to him.

    “You have every right to feel such a thing.” The voice announced speaking inside his head; Elder Rutherford sighed as he sealed his office. “There was no other option; Megatron will destroy you and your family.” The invisible entity informed; Allan Rutherford directed his glare inwards at the seemingly unknown voice.

    “So you’ve claimed; I have listened to you for a long time Primus at least when it counted, you seem less inclined to seek out peaceful methods.” He remarked; the God sighed there was little else he could do at the moment.

    “Things haven’t always gone according to plan; I must be more vigilant in this dark time.” Primus returned; Rutherford narrowed his eyes slightly, but kept his suspicions to himself.

    “Where is the Matrix?” He asked; Primus seemed to ripple as though sighing, he didn’t answer.

    “You must stop Megatron.” Was all he said and then the presence was gone; Rutherford frowned as he unsealed his office, he was starting to hate being a pawn and Primus wasn’t acting exactly as he was used to. Blindly following the orders of a God wasn’t in character either, but then again after so many years Elder Rutherford had grown more subtle in his ability to play out events as was necessary. No longer did he blindly go forward to fight; he had a rather extensive family to think about after all, and perhaps he was getting a little senile in his five hundred plus years.
    Still if a trap was involved his only true option was to spring the trap and deal with it, if he could; and he wasn’t about to let anyone else into his confidence that he didn’t fully trust.

    “I wish Q or Roma would contact me again; at least then perhaps they could help set an old man straight.” He sighed and then got to his feet; it was time to see to Sonar who was currently being held at the Citadel, fortunately the Elders had placed him in charge of the Security Forces. Just item one hundred and fifty-seven on his daily duties list; it was why he got along so well with Snarl rather then the other Elders, it was also how he managed to deactivate the security systems to let those two hapless Predacons into the Citadel, a pity someone beat them to the punch. “Computer; seal Citadel Office, initiate transport.” He ordered; with the familiar sensation of transport Elder Rutherford vanished accompanied by the ever present whining sound, sometimes it paid to have Federation technology.

    Reborn in Ash

    Atlantis; crown jewel of Cybertron or so it was meant to have become until the recent assault by Magmatron, an assault that couldn’t have been foreseen. The Predacon had worked in secret to gather the mysterious Angolmoise energy after Galvatron failed in his bid for total conquest; Magmatron had successfully collected the energy and used it in a massive weapon dubbed the Hydra Cannon.
    It had decimated the city of Atlantis killing hundreds; Big Convoy managed to destroy it in the end thankfully and a shaky peace returned to Cybertron, but the damage had been wrought and Atlantis no longer housed the living. Both Galvatron’s and Magmatron’s bids for power and conquest had been covered up by the Council of Elders; a feat not altogether simplistic, the Tripredacus Council were suspected as being involved, but the Convoy’s had failed to find any proof linking them to the so called rogue elements.
    It was here; in this burnt out city that they came, former criminals, a few disgruntled citizens and one lone warrior intent on making a name for himself. The meeting place was the Council Citadel; for indeed there had been more then one, before the Convoy Council was replaced indefinitely by the Elders’ and most Convoys’ relinquished their names in favor of others.
    The criminal element had gathered; Killer Punch and his partner Dead End stood in the center of the ruined Hall of Audience waiting for the meeting to begin, the larger unit was sharpening his sword out of habit slightly nervous at the prospect of seeing his former leader again. A small organic crab based unit called Razorclaw and a Fuzor called Skyshadow were also present amongst the other dregs of society; the two of them had originally been part of the Axalon crew, their stasis pods stolen and reprogrammed by Tarantulas in the early twenty-first century.
    The full history of the duo was convoluted and definitely confusing; suffice it to say after Tarantulas’s first death at the hands of Elder Rutherford and the Axalon survivors left in the past by destiny, General Lio Convoy and his trusted crew used their own Transwarp capable vessel to retrieve them. They had not been alone; Hardhead would later join up with Magmatron and was slain during a lengthy conflict with the Maximal called Longrack.

    “So when do we get to kill some Maximals?” One of the unknown units demanded. “I’ve been waiting a long time to stick it to them.” He added twirling a small pistol in one hand.

    “Patience Lazorbeak.” Dead End informed the smaller aerial unit. “First we need to let our benefactor present his long term goals to us.” He pointed out; the purple armored flyer glared at the ammonite shell sporting Predacon, but chose not to speak again.

    “I just want to know why we all had to adapt beast modes.” A female unit spoke up her new gossamer insect wings beating rapidly in frustration. “Some of us don’t enjoy being forced to join your clique’s organic appearances.” She added disgustedly; a sentiment shared by many Cybertronians in secret, some believed that the adaptation of beast modes weakened their Cybertronian heritage to the extreme.

    “Your adoption of organic modes is necessary; our goals are not to fight on Cybertron, but to force the Maximals to weaken their defenses on the home front by scattering their forces.” A deep baritone informed as the architect of this meeting revealed himself at last; the massive and powerful form of Magmatron, self-proclaimed Emperor of Destruction in Galvatron’s stead slowly emerged on one of the hydraulic lifts, which led below the Citadel’s ground floor. He was unique; the only Predacon of his kind capable of separating into three distinct modes, some believed he was an attempt by the Predacon leaders to recreate the ancient Duocon technologies. “Should you choose to join us permanently you will accompany us to planet Gaia where we will attempt to rediscover the veins of Angolmoise Energon; if not, well I can trust you’ll keep your mouths shut.” The Predacon leader threatened with a sinister gleam in his optics.

    “How do we become part of this crew?” A tall thin gangly mostly dark toned unit queried; he too possessed an insectile form, that of a Terran Mosquito judging by his wings and the head acting as a chest manifold.

    “Quite simple actually; all you need to do is survive for ten cycles.” Magmatron replied; an uneasy air filled the room as some Predacons began to share looks of confusion, Dead End however seemed to have been expecting this.

    “Survive?” Killer Punch repeated confusedly. “Dead End what the pit is he talking about?” He demanded whirling on his smaller partner; in response lights flickered on all around the upper echelons of the former citadel, one lone red optic roving back and forth as a battalion of strange hulking Cybertronians appeared. Magmatron vanished receding back into the floor and the small army marched forward weapons screaming; mass panic filled the Predacons save for a few, one of those few began firing on the mysterious soldiers intent to join this crew no matter the cost.

    Sonar was forced into the seat across from Elder Rutherford and Citadel Security Commander Snarl; her arms were shackled behind her with energy bonds, her optics narrowed in disgust at the Elder.

    “That’s everything Snapper, Minor you may leave us.” Snarl ordered; the two of them nodded and left the room, Sonar’s disgust deepened and she turned her head aside so as not to look at the human or the Maximal.
    “Are you a Predacon?” Snarl began. “Or a Maximal Traitor?” He demanded pacing across the room and examining the data padd he had; Sonar kept silent. “Drill Bit is still in the CR Chamber, Silverbolt and Hammer Strike are in intensive care and you almost killed Skydive with that stunt of yours, so tell us; who are you working for!” He barked slamming one clawed hand onto the table across from her; Elder Rutherford chose to remain silent throughout the brief interrogation, he watched as Snarl threatened to become more and more physically violent with the traitorous security guard.
    Through it all Sonar remained silent; Snarl was beginning to show his more feral side thanks to his beast mode, but at last Rutherford felt he had kept silent enough.

    “Enough.” He finally growled; Sonar eyed him with uncertainty. “Forget who she works for; I want to know who let Megatron escape?” He demanded leaning forward and eyeing the femme with a strange fire in his eyes; his hand briefly went to his side, where Sonar glimpsed the hilt of some weapon she couldn’t identify.

    “Why should I tell you?” She asked. “I’ll just go to prison anyway.” She pointed out; Elder Rutherford smiled, a smile that did not instill the prisoner with much warmth.

    “Because I can guarantee your survival; do you honestly think they’ll let you live after this failure?” He asked slyly; Sonar shifted nervously in her seat, Snarl smirked secretively he did so enjoy playing bad cop, good cop when Elder Rutherford was around. Sonar’s gaze flickered slightly; she glanced around in slowly mounting fear, Elder Rutherford was growing impatient again, but he knew how to play these things out.

    “Elder; I can’t tell you.” She finally admitted once again showing the proper respect to a man of his station. “He kept to the shadows; and then Megatron froze me with that cryogenic blast, whoever it was sounded familiar though.” She added; Snarl growled low in his throat, this interrogation had gotten nowhere and seemed to be a total waste of time. Elder Rutherford did not concur; he could use Sonar to get at the Tripredacus Council, some of the Maximals might not agree, but they would obey his orders.

    “Snarl, release the power bonds.” He ordered; Snarl and Sonar both eyed the Elder in utter shock, but the seemingly young man did not change his expression.

    “Why, if I may be so bold to ask?” Snarl wondered; Elder Rutherford smiled.

    “Because I have a special mission for her; one I can entrust to only those I trust implicitly.” He explained; Sonar’s optics widened surprised, Snarl chuckled knowing where the Elder was going with this and did as commanded. Sonar rubbed her wrists briefly eyeing the Elder in confusion; she didn’t trust him, but she knew her true masters would kill her for failing to eliminate Megatron so what did she have to lose?

    “What sort of mission?” She asked curiously; Elder Rutherford smiled, a cold smile that made Sonar shudder slightly and she shied back uncertain if agreeing to this wasn’t a bad idea.

    “You’ll see soon enough; Snarl see to it she doesn’t leave the Citadel until I’ve brought the specialists in.” He ordered; Snarl nodded understandably and quickly stood beside Sonar clamping a warning hand on her shoulder. Elder Rutherford climbed to his feet and swiftly took his leave; tapping a hidden fold in his robes a tiny chirp emanated from them, the sound of a secret communiqué line being opened. “I found her.” Was all he said and then he headed to the personal transports area; he had someone to meet, and plans to make.

    Rattrap looked around; the place was just as he remembered it serving bots walking around minus their torso plates, loads of raucous individuals having a good time, but for some reason he just couldn’t get into that mood anymore. Something was missing and he just didn’t understand it; sitting at the bar he nursed his mech fluid, just the way he liked it with a touch of radium, but still… He had noticed when he came in that a lot of people seemed to be wary of him; despite his Transmetal bod he was still an organic in their eyes, and beast modes weren’t all around liked by the status quo, especially on Cybertron.

    “Dinar for your thoughts?” A soft voice asked; Rattrap glanced up in confusion at the question, an even shorter looking femmebot was standing beside him he was amazed to find somebody shorter then himself who wasn’t a pre-adolescent human.

    “Eh; what’s a Dinar?” He asked in return; the woman giggled.

    “Elder Rutherford said it once in class; I think it’s related to an old Earth culture.” She replied; Rattrap shrugged made about as much sense as anything else from Earth, he indicated that she could sit beside him and took a sip, the zing was there, but there was no zip he wasn’t feeling it.

    “What’s yer name?” He wondered; she smiled glancing around slightly and then leaned closer so as not to be overheard.

    “Most people call me Poison Bite.” She revealed; Rattrap quirked an optic node at that, it wasn’t a name he’d expect from such a delicate lookin’ femme. “So tell me; what’s it like having a beast mode?” She asked; Rattrap shrugged.

    “The same as any other transform; ‘course not many of us can be Transmetal, gotta tell ya havin’ this third wheeled mode makes travelin’ places a whole lot better.” He revealed surprised that he was being so open with the relatively unknown unit; she struck him as being a tad too young for being in a joint like this, but then again some Maximals who weren’t up to specs in the eyes of their fellows usually became forgotten. There were even a few who turned to doing what would amount to sexual favors in human terminologies; Rattrap remembered the scorn he and his fellow shrimp Packrat got just because they were human sized, in fact his only real friend aside from Packrat had been Rhinox.

    “Transmetal.” She repeated thoughtfully. “Kind of like Ramulus I suppose.” She added quirking her head to one side as though in thought; Rattrap didn’t recognize the name, but then again he had noticed that a few Maximals seemed to have adopted Transmetal Two bods here on Cybertron. He’d been meaning to ask Optimus about that; he’d thought the Transmetal Two driver had been destroyed after they found legs with it, but maybe the ability to go Transmetal wasn’t simply up to alien tech.

    “Say what do ya want from me anyway?” He demanded suddenly; Poison Bite shook her head.

    “Nothing; I thought you could use a friend, you looked so sad.” She returned. “Was she special?” She asked jumping to the wrong conclusion, but her question made Rattrap realize what was making him so down, he smiled and shook his head.

    “Nah; not a girl.” He corrected. “Me an’ ol Choppaface were more like bitter enemies turned friends; he didn’t make it back though.” He explained; Poison Bite looked intrigued now and inched closer eager for a good story.

    “Who?” She asked seeking for clarification; Rattrap smiled and took a long hard swig of his drink saluting his lost friend beforehand.

    “I’m gonna tell ya about a very good friend o’ mine Poison Bite; his name was Dinobot and let me tell ya it wasn’t always easy gettin’ along with him.” He began; Poison Bite smiled glancing up with a twinkle of wonder and eagerness in her optics, Rattrap liked that about her, her innocent quality it made him question why she was even in a place like this, but he shook aside those thoughts and continued to regale her with stories of Dinobot.

    Killer Punch tossed the head of the attacking drone aside and shot a glare at Magmatron as he began to rise back up on the pedestal; two units had been killed by these sparkless automatons and Killer Punch didn’t like it. He had served Magmatron before, but this; this seemed madder then his plan to destroy the Maximals and could lead only to death.

    “Well now what?” Lazorbeak demanded; Magmatron smiled as he surveyed the carnage, though something went unseen behind his optics.

    “Now we have our crew.” He replied; Killer Punch eyed him curiously, what about the claims that there were no commitments at this first meeting?

    “We?” Transquito repeated; a new warrior emerged from the shadows then, unlike the others this one still retained a vehicle mode. He wasn’t as tall as Magmatron despite his bulk, but he was a legend in his own right.

    “Megastorm.” Razorclaw exclaimed in shock; the Predacon smiled revealing the similarities to the late Megatron of the Decepticons, it was said Megastorm was given this body design by his brother Galvatron who wished to instill fear of the unknown and unbelievable in his enemies sparks. Seeing him next to Magmatron his similarities to Megatron were uncanny; although there were a few flaws, the consequence of limiting his alternate mode to such an archaic Earthen form most likely.

    “Is there a reason for this, aside from your plans to spread the Maximals forces thin; I mean?” Bazooka spoke up; the Predacon had been another of Magmatrons original crew, Killer Punch hadn’t seen him since the ship blew up though and he was surprised to see him alive still plucking that ever present axe-blaster out of the body of one of their former attackers.

    “Naturally; we wanted to test our new Tank Drones, a little surprise for the fools who remain behind on Cybertron.” Megastorm replied his vocal pattern shattering the illusion of Megatron re-incarnate. “I regret that we lost any of you, but we had to be sure it would take a lot to stop them.” He added; Bazooka gritted his teeth, but kept silent unwilling to be on Megastorms’ hit list.

    “Now we have our crew.” Magmatron pointed out again. “And it is now time to leave Cybertron in favor of Gaia.” He added with a smirk; the Predacons were still uncertain as to this arrangement, but they now suspected they had little choice in the matter. Killer Punch especially was suspicious of Magmatrons’ new motives; he’d thought he’d known his former leader, but now he suspected things hadn’t been so clear cut.

    “As long as we get to slag Maximals I don’t care where we are.” Lazorbeak spoke up; Magmatron smiled at that and turned to Megastorm, the vehicular Predacon tapped a control on his left arm and a Predacon cruiser lowered from the sky. It landed in the far right sector of the former Citadel where the roof had collapsed and opened the access door; Magmatron swept his arm out to indicate the ship with his hand.

    “If you’ll all board we can announce our plans to the Maximal Elder’s.” He stated; the Predacons shared a look and began to board the ship, some of them eager others reluctant, but all certain that they were going to be on the winning side.

    “How was the test?” Megatron asked as a holo of his head appeared in front of Magmatron and Megastorm; the duo literally bowed their heads in a show of respect to their true leader, though Magmatron showed some reluctance.

    “The Vehicons worked well, but their armor is not impervious; fortunately our new recruits didn’t notice the spark extractions.” Megastorm replied; Magmatron shifted his gaze revealing his true feelings in that one gesture.

    “I still don’t like this; we’re talking ripping out the sparks of fellow Predacons.” He stated; Megatron smiled darkly, but kept the expression to himself manipulating the transmission on his end so he appeared sympathetic.

    “Don’t worry Magmatron; that is merely a last resort.” Megatron soothed; Magmatron nodded and headed for the ship, Megastorm smiled as he placed the sparks in the hand of an unseen ally.

    “We’ll keep in touch once on Gaia, now if you’ll excuse us we have to leave a calling card for the Elders.” He informed with a dark chuckle; Megatron nodded and vanished leaving his pawns to play their part, he always was good at getting others to do his bidding and springing the two of them had indebted them to his cause.

    “Now all we need to do is find a way to fix the Cyber-Venom transformation inhibitor codes.” He mused aloud to himself. “Perhaps the spider’s legacy may yet prove useful.” He added bringing up the data tracks surrounding the transformation lock lens his former lackey had perfected during the Beast Wars.

    The space port always reminded Rutherford of something out of Star Wars; here and there alien dignitaries were spotted coming and going and the loud sounds of the usual ships engines lifting off were familiar in many ways to those of other planetary bodies. As he passed the garage reserved for the Shi-Ar consulate he wondered how the new queen of the empire was handling things; at least she didn’t have to worry about the Phoenix Force.
    One ship in particular however stood out to him as he now approached his own personal garage, which had been dubbed the Scattorshot Garage in honor of the Technobot; it had in fact been built almost to specs identical to the Millennium Falcon. He’d called it the Peregrine and had commissioned it from the Maximal Corps of Engineers specifically for his sisters’ use. An ebony toned femmebot appeared on the loading ramp as he drew closer to the ship; not many Maximals or indeed Predacons knew of his personal collection left over from Earth Prime, considering some of them would probably be freaked out by their plastic likenesses.

    “Brother!” She greeted with a warm smile; her purple optics shone with her expression and Elder Rutherford sighed.

    “Ebony; Synergy is my sister, not you.” He returned hopping clear of the sky skimmer.

    “That is an excuse; Synergy was my sister first, and when she adopted you so did I.” The Predacon returned; Elder Rutherford smiled as he and Ebony journeyed up the ramp. Onyx and Ebony had been twin Maximal sisters in their youth; both volunteered for the Protoform Mission and had been aboard the Axalon, their pods suffered separate tragedies.
    Onyx was damaged beyond repair and her spark would have perished if not for the intervention of a human by the name of Emmet Benton; he transplanted her spark into his special holographic generating computer Synergy and she became the computer’s living AI. Ebony was found by Tarantulas and the Tripredacus Council in their past war against Rutherford when they served the goals of their true master, the dark God Unicron; she was reprogrammed into a Predacon and if it hadn’t been for her sister she’d still be under their sway.

    “Hello Elder Rutherford.” A familiar voice greeted as the gunner rounded the corner; Ebony smiled and strode over to him wrapping him up in a loving embrace.

    “My love.” She greeted reaching up to kiss the larger unit on the cheek; he’d done so much for her, even going so far as to adapt a beast form.

    “Where’s the Captain?” Rutherford asked; in response a tinkling laugh emerged from the bridge access way, Rutherford turned to greet the woman who had become his lone extended family member. She was wearing tight black pants with red stripes down the side mimicking the Captain of the fictional ship her’s was based on; and a purple shirt possibly a blouse. No longer confined to a holographic form; Allan had transplanted her spark into a synthoid-like form once he understood sparks better, the Synergy computer now was little more then a museum piece, a tribute to his late friends Jem and the Holograms.

    “Hello dear brother.” She greeted softly; Al smiled and moved to hug her.

    “If not for you I’d go insane.” He whispered a deep pain in his voice unable to be heard by the others.

    “You have your family.” She pointed out; Al smiled wistfully.

    “That’s not the same as brother and sister; my parents died centuries ago in an alternate reality, as did my biological sibling that ever annoying brother of mine.” He pointed out with a slight tremor of loss in his voice; Synthia squeezed his shoulder in sympathy for she too had lost much when Jerrica and the others died, but then Al shook his head. “I didn’t come here to depress myself though.” He stated pointedly.

    “Yes; you mentioned something about finding her.” She returned; he grinned and took a seat on one of the familiar chairs, Ebony and Polar Claw moved to join them.

    “Who was it?” The Maximal polar bear asked.

    “Sonar; she’s the one serving the Tripredacus Council.” Al replied; Ebony smirked at that and unsheathed her claws, a peculiar feature of her robot mode, a result of her panther beast form most likely.

    “I should have guessed they’d pick her; they always did like manipulating female units.” She remarked with a chuckle; Rutherford grinned and propped his feet up, here he could be himself there wasn’t any reporters hounding him or citizens demanding action for some imagined offense by their neighbors.

    “I want her to accompany you on the mission.” He requested. “I trust you to keep her out of trouble; she doesn’t strike me as the cold blooded assassin type.” He added; Ebony nodded and Polar Claw rolled his optics, Synthia sighed.

    “Another newbie to break in.” She exclaimed exasperatedly. “Well; as long as she’s not like the last one.” She added; Rutherford chuckled at that and would have said more if not for the sudden explosion of alarms and cries of fear from outside.
    Ebony and Synthia scrambled bringing up outside sensor displays and a pre-flight checklist; a Predacon cruiser was firing on civilian transports docked at the nearby Triskeleon station as it blasted towards deep space.

    “Track that.” Polar Claw growled spinning in his seat to activate the engines; Elder Rutherford placed a hand on his wrist to stop him.

    “It’s too late.” He stated. “Transwarp signature lock?” He asked; Synthia nodded.

    “They’re going to Gaia.” Ebony exclaimed narrowing her optics; Elder Rutherford shook his head.

    “It figures; the Angolmoise Energon is potent stuff.” He remarked; Synthia nodded as the ship flashed into Transwarp, Elder Rutherford got to his feet once again feeling the weight of the planet on his shoulders. “I’d better get to the Council Citadel; we’ll need to send a ship after them.” He stated with a sigh; Synthia got up and moved to hug him once more.

    “We’ll pick up Sonar later, good luck brother.” She returned; Al nodded and headed back to the entrance ramp, this was going to get worse before it got better.

    To Be Continued…
  8. Rotorstorm

    Rotorstorm Wreck n’ rule

    Oct 29, 2004
    News Credits:
    Trophy Points:
    East Midlands, UK
    good fic. the writers on this board seem to be better at it than those on tfans and the allspark (although tfanss does have the best spam forum)
  9. .SentinelPrime Is Dead.

    .SentinelPrime Is Dead. Banned

    Jul 7, 2002
    Trophy Points:
  10. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    It's been a long time since I posted anything for this story; who knows maybe by adding this next chapter I'll get some replies from fellow Transfans... Some of you may wind up being totally lost by what's going on in this story and for that, well send me your questions either by responding or PMing and I'll try to explain everything to the best of my abilities, for now just enjoy Chapter Three...

    Path to Enlightment

    Optimus Primal had been afraid Megatron had been aboard that ship; his fears proved groundless for the Predacon crew had turned out to be following Magmatron and Megastorm, the Elders were understandably unnerved at this turn of events having believed Magmatron and his followers to be completely wiped out during the supposed Unicron resurrection gambit events surrounding Magmatron’s Predacons.
    Optimus knew they were accepting volunteers; he was nervously standing outside the office of Elder Rutherford who had called him in shortly after the meeting dealing with Magmatron, he was concerned that he might be ordered off Cybertron to lead this mission against the newly dubbed Predacon Emperor of Destruction instead of remaining here to locate the still at large Megatron.

    “Enter.” The Elders voice called from inside; Primal passed through the doors, he still wasn’t used to being so tall here. The curse of bonding with the legendary Optimus Prime; the office had been designed to accommodate large scale Cybertronians fortunately, moving to the center of the room he stood at attention before Rutherford’s desk. The desk itself was different from the one he kept at home; this one was far more streamlined and filled with security monitoring equipment as well as holovision communication screens and a terminal for personal use.

    “Sector Maul is clear Elder.” An unknown unit stated reporting via the holoimaging communiqué Elder Rutherford was currently having. “My squadron has combed the industrial complexes; no sign of Megatron or Vehicon construction systems.”

    “Thank you Officer Apelinq, keep me informed.” The Elder returned with a nod before severing the link; Primal quirked a mechanical brow at that.

    “Vehicon?” He asked curiously; the Elder glanced up his mouth set in a grim line.

    “I know Megatron’s plans for Cybertron due to my origins Primal; Vehicons may not be coming as he had hoped, but they will pose a significant threat.” He informed; Primal nodded accepting this explanation.

    “Elder; if this is concerning Magmatron I must decline command of the Gaia mission.” He informed; Rutherford smirked as he placed his data pad aside, Primal was surprised to glimpse a strange hilt hanging from his belt.

    “We already have a most eager commander for that mission Primal; I asked you here for an entirely unrelated reason.” The Elder returned; glancing around as though afraid of being overheard he tapped his desk briefly in a certain configuration his fingers moving so rapidly Primal failed to catch it all. “I need your help Optimus; the practices of my fellow Elders coupled with certain events surrounding the first self-proclaimed Emperor of Destruction have caused us to lose a highly valuable ally.” He stated in a soft low tone; Primal eyed the Elder confusedly.
    “Optimus Primal; I need you to tell me everything you can recall surrounding your brief contact with Gaia and more importantly, Lio Convoy.” Primal fought to keep the shock off his face; he hadn’t expected anyone would ever know of that strange encounter save those involved, he still couldn’t believe it really happened to him, but his connection to the Matrix was growing stronger now that he’d returned.

    “This could take some time sir.” He admitted; the Elder nodded and indicated a chair, Primal sat down and began to gather his thoughts, this wasn’t going to be easy because for Primal it was very personal. Prior to his fully joining the Matrix after his death at the hands of Megatron when he destroyed the alien moon, somehow he’d wound up on Gaia working with Lio Convoy against a menace known as Majin Z; it was during this time that the Matrix of leadership touched his spark and he felt a strange connection with it. “Megatron had just caused my death.” He began to recite after taking a mental deep breath.

    Cheetor watched the younger Cybertronians as they raced to be first in line at the Six Lasers over Cybertron amusement park; once he’d have readily joined them filled with wonderment and naïve joy just as they were now, but the hardships of the Beast Wars had taken their toll. He didn’t fit in anymore with the civilians he’d shared a life with prior to joining the Maximal Exploration Fleet; and his crush on Black Arachnia had faded after Tigerhawk sacrificed himself, he didn’t know what to with himself any more, tracking Megatron wasn’t a full time career gig for the former golden rocket.
    The crew had split up for a few days to seek direction now that they’d come home victorious and he was seriously missing his friends; they’d formed a sort of close knit bond those three years on Earth, without them he was a little unsure what to do with himself.

    “Hello.” An older sounding voice spoke up startling Cheetor; he whirled to find a mostly grey and orange Predacon standing nearby, the Predacon bore a striking resemblance to Scorponok. Except this Pred’s head design was slightly slimmer, his body bulkier all around and he was decidedly taller despite the shared beast mode adaption; Cheetor eyed him warily.

    “What do you want Predacon?” He asked a low growl escaping his vocals; the Predacon smiled and moved to stand beside him shifting gazes upon those few still entering the park.

    “I sensed your directionless ness; your spark is unique Maximal, I can feel it.” He replied cryptically. “Tell me; have you ever dreamt of future events?” He asked; Cheetor bared his fangs to hide his fear and sub-consciously reached for his blaster. “Your actions speak plainly.” He continued with a brief chuckle barely shifting positions.

    “You’re startin’ to get on my nerves.” Cheetor growled warningly; the Predacon chuckled once more louder this time and turned his back fully on the younger Maximal.

    “Such emotions, so like the others.” He mused aloud the scorpion tail on his back twitching slightly with his mirth. “I mean you no harm Cheetor, my name is Sandstorm and I am a teacher.” The Predacon informed; Cheetor began to lower his guard as he now eyed Sandstorm curiously.

    “A teacher of what?” He asked; Sandstorm smiled gently and swept his clawed hand out amongst the others.

    “Not all sparks are created equal; some are given a great gift from Primus.” He explained in an authoritative tone. “I teach them how to harness that gift; tell me Cheetor, haven’t you ever wanted to be more then what you are? Become a true master of the element you use so well, namely your speed?” He asked; Cheetor lowered his guard completely and eyed Sandstorm with a secret longing in his optics.

    “You can teach me that?” He wondered in awe; he’d always felt he could do so much more, the dreams, what humans termed ESP or clairvoyance told him he had untapped potential and he’d always desired to exceed the speed barriers his superstructure wasn’t exactly designed for though deep in his spark he felt he could do it.

    “Of course young Padawan; that is my gift.” Sandstorm replied with a knowing smirk; Cheetor glanced back at the kids having fun, kids being a relative term. “You are willing to learn from a lowly Predacon?” He asked slyly; Cheetor turned away from the so called childhood he’d known and offered a nod. “Then come and together we shall commence with your training.” He beckoned; together the two of them left and Cheetor took his first steps on the road to discovery.

    Path of Elightenment

    The Tripredacus Council wasn’t always the only voice of the Predacons; just as there once existed both the Convoy Council and the Maximal Elders so too were there multiple councils serving the Predacon controlled sectors of Cybertron. One such group had been headed by Galvatron and consisted of Predacons who had taken the names of former Decepticons Cyclonus and Scourge; Cyclonus died in an assassination orchestrated by Tripredacus and Galvatron pursued his own plans for conquest on distant planet Gaia.
    Scourge had lain low and eventually assumed a Transmetal Two form using the alien driver, which Elder Rutherford had found aboard the Ark years ago and donated to the Beast Mode Enhancers of Crystal Ohiriex. Unfortunately Retrax hired Scourge to assassinate Megatron recently and he in turn wound up being eliminated by Spy Streak who was currently posing as Maximal Elder Silverbolt; thus the Decepticus Council were sadly no longer in office, there was however one other Council.
    The Terrorcus Council had followed the ideals of the ancient Terrorcon combiner group; except they’d been less blood thirsty in their quest for knowledge and power, the Council however had not fared so well either. Antagony had vanished without a trace her experiments on temporal flux and Multiversal spatial anomalies seemingly leading to her death, Gigatron was apparently dragged into a quantum singularity while testing a new theory in the lab lost to the annals of history perhaps and lastly the final member had wisely gone into hiding.
    A self-imposed exile that was now coming to an end thanks to the return of his former pupil; a once promising individual with an unassuming moniker who had taken on a new more imposing one, and a new quest. The cybernetic familiar squawked as this lone survivor entered the warehouse situated deep beneath the planet’s surface; this level was currently beneath Cybertron’s surface and not far from the former base where his pupil’s namesake first established his army.

    “Silence Chro.” He ordered striding cautiously into the den of his former pupil; numerous drones flitted about working on some odd looking containment device, it resembled a massive glass jar with which one might study an insect or other lower life form. “I see your delusions of grandeur haven’t faded while you sought to alter our fate.” The rich blue and white unit remarked with a smile; twin glowing optics emerged from the darkness as his pupil appeared to greet him.

    “Indeed; well I never truly believed my namesakes’ plan would bear fruit, still I had to try.” Megatron noted casually; the teacher smiled secretively at the student and glanced about at the facilities before him.

    “How may I be of service Megatron?” He asked casually. “Before I leave Cybertron to her fate of course.” He added with a dark grin.

    “Quite simple really; I require an expert capable of assisting me in perfecting my viruses.” Megatron informed as he unfurled his wings; briefly a tiny smirk playing across his lips before a hard glint, almost deranged entered his optics. “And someone who can aid me in purging this form of its’ disgusting organic contamination.” He added with a barely perceptible shudder; the teacher smiled knowingly and once again the small blue and black familiar, in truth one of the ancient Deployers designed around the Action Master’s former Targetmaster-like partners, cawed sounding almost as though he were laughing.

    “I see you haven’t lost your unhealthy affixation with Organics or any of your other true personality quirks my old pupil.” He observed with a rare laugh. “That you managed to last this long in such an inferior state of being; at least to your optics, amazes me to no end.” He added with a brief though carefully guarded sneer of contempt. “I shall attempt my best old pupil, but once grafted the organic shell is not so easily removed; an unfortunate side effect of the DNA scanners’ reformatting process as you of course are no doubt fully aware, and the fact that your form has been Transmetalized is doubly troublesome.” He pointed out in a warning tone; Megatron nodded and turned back to his drone workers overseeing their progress with a practiced optic.

    “I understand all too well old friend.” He stated. “And I trust you shall attempt your best efforts as you so eloquently put it.” He added before unfurling his wings a second time and taking flight; his teacher watched him go a hungry glint filling his optics.

    “Such a magnificently powerful form at that hey Chro?” He asked reaching up to scratch his pet on the beak. “Power such as that is wasted on the young and foolishly bigoted.” He added with a telltale smirk; the familiar made that laugh like sound a third time and flitted his mechanical wings, this was going to prove an interesting time indeed for the both of them.

    The Gung Ho II had been commissioned on the Earth date May Fourteenth Two Thousand Three Hundred and Seventy-Six; the Maximal Defense Forces’ last complete war ship, now in twenty three ninety-nine it served as the personal craft of the most decorated officer in the fleet, Big Convoy.
    The Maximal Commander stood on his bridge, which was currently docked with Defense Fleet command’s orbiting space station; awaiting the final members of his new crew to track down Magmatron. Gunner Longrack sat in his customary station looking rather bored; Stampy and Break were also at their stations running last minute checks, Mach Kick or Ricochet or whatever slaggin’ name he was going by currently was down in engineering examining the engines with their new engineer Claw Jaw, apparently Ikard’s younger brother and also a cousin to the Maximal Scuba who had served under Lio Convoy on the first Gaia mission.

    “Isn’t that frellin’ shuttle here yet?” Break complained; Big Convoy’s optics flickered registering the complaint, but he chose not to reprimand the younger Maximal; he knew this crew all too well and because of that he also knew they sometimes needed to blow off steam when cooling their heels for the Primus Damned Elders.

    “Commander; the shuttle has docked.” Mach Kick suddenly informed via internal com line; Big Convoy strode purposefully towards the bridge’s entrance hall.

    “Time to see what weak willed fools the Council chose this time.” He commented gruffly; Break and Stampy shared a snickering laugh while Longrack kept his thoughts to himself, they’d lost a lot of good friends on that first mission after Magmatron and he didn’t feel like facing that kind of thing again, but what he wanted and what was right were two separate demons altogether.

    B’Boom and Bonecrusher were the first two off the shuttle; the towering blue and grey mandrill and the hulking ivory and black bison were dwarfed by their commander, Big Convoy stood at least twenty feet tall compared to a human and was believed to be more then a match for even some of the surviving Autobots in his size and weight class.
    Two Fuzors followed them; Airhammer, a short unit who had the ungainly looking combination of hammerhead shark and falcon for a beast mode; and a massive thick limbed orca, elephant combo called Torca. The larger Fuzor reminded Big Convoy of Unicron’s Blendtron, but he chose to ignore the similarities; sharing a body design was not indicative of shared personalities.
    The final new recruit was a warrior of some renown; a former Axalon crew member who, like Claw Jaw and Mach Kick had fought alongside Elder Rutherford in twenty oh six and beyond against Tripredacus in the self-dubbed Secret Wars of Maximal and Predacon forces trapped in the distant past due to the Beast Wars, his name; Ramulus.

    “Reporting as ordered.” B’Boom stated for the group; Big Convoy nodded, apparently he’d have to reassess these units fighting strengths, and apparently Elder Rutherford still knew the best for the job.

    “B’Boom; I served with your brother Apache, if you’re half as good as he was we’ll have Magmatron in custody by the end of this Decacycle.” Convoy stated clasping a hand on the shorter units’ shoulder; Bonecrusher looked around and then turned back to his partner and their new leader.

    “Where do we bunk?” He asked his voice even gruffer and low-toned then Big Convoy’s, if that were believably possible; B’Boom smiled at his companions’ single mindedness.

    “Mach Kick will show you the way.” Big informed before turning to eye the others. “Stow whatever personal effects you brought and then report to your stations, we leave in less then a megacycle.” He ordered; the Maximals left with Mach Kick and the shuttle took off leaving Big Convoy alone briefly, his optics flickered slightly as he placed a hand to his chest where the shard of the Matrix was kept in secret. He’d much rather have Lio Convoy present to help back him up, but unfortunately his fellow Convoy had vanished without so much as a trace; call it superstitious if you wanted, but he had a bad feeling about this.

    Cheetor was surprised at where Sandstorm took him; it was literally the middle of nowhere, the wastelands surrounding the Trion sector of Cybertron, or as Elder Rutherford called it, the Jundland Wastes.
    Sandstorm knelt in front of a hulking wreck that might have been a spaceship at one point in its’ long career; he seemed to depress something and then a large section of the derelict opened up on a hinged joint, Cheetor blinked uncertainly.

    “Welcome to my school young one.” He stated indicating the staircase leading down into the hidden construct; Cheetor headed into the unknown place first and was amazed at what he found, Maximals and Predacons both sat around the room. Or in some cases stood; in one corner two units’ ware sparring, though Cheetor couldn’t see any weapons in use.

    “Sensei Sandstorm!” A young voice exclaimed; a Predacon rushed over and offered a quick bow to the arachnid based Predacon teacher, he smiled and returned the gesture. The Predacon was a little shorter then Cheetor possessive of mostly brown coloring and had a facial design slightly reminiscent of the mechanical bat his beast mode obviously emulated, although Cheetor didn’t see any wings; in truth the wings were this unit’s robot mode’s legs.

    “Soundwave; this is Cheetor, he too has the gift.” Sandstorm introduced; the short Predacon grinned as he offered a bow to the Axalon gunner.

    “Great; you’re going to love it here.” He proclaimed before dashing off to another group of Maximals and Predacons and beginning to talk animatedly with them indicating the transmetal two once or twice.

    “What is this place?” Cheetor asked turning confused gaze on the Predacon that had brought him here.

    “This is where we open the potential of those sparks with the gift.” Sandstorm informed leading Cheetor further into the complex. “Once your spark and mind work as one you will understand; you will be able to grasp the complexities of the Matrix, and Primus’s grand design for us all.” He added sweeping the room in an all encompassing gesture; Cheetor looked around uncertainly at the others inside this place, he didn’t even pretend to follow what Sandstorm was saying.

    “Is it hard to learn?” He wondered; Sandstorm chuckled and placed a hand on Cheetor’s shoulder.

    “Only if we make it so.” He replied cryptically; Cheetor sighed and wondered if the others were facing these kinds of weird questions now that they’d unofficially broken up, Rattrap probably not, but Rhinox, Silverbolt and Black Arachnia could very well be dealing with even bigger uncertainties. Sandstorm smiled secretively; at last he had found the chosen one, the one who could carry on in the darker times after he was gone.
    And those times were coming soon; for with Megatron returned to Cybertron the great evil would soon be upon them all, and only the Oracle could truly save them now, before it was too late he had to finish Cheetor’s training, he must.

    Elder Rutherford sat before the Oracle; a special interface crafted by Autobot and Decepticon sciences prior to the great Maximal and Predacon upgrade, the voice that was Primus had warned him away from communicating directly with it, but something was troubling him about that voice and he knew it wasn’t who it claimed to be, but just who was it? Closing his eyes he opened himself to the connection established between himself and the Matrix long ago; before Maximal and Predacon in a time of ancient Gods and their ever present eternal struggle for dominance.

    “Primus is no longer in this reality; he stalks Unicron I know this, what I need to know now is the identity of my inner voice… He seems familiar; Oracle please help me to understand and expose this interloper.” He spoke internally keeping his thoughts carefully guarded and unheard by others who may be listening.

    “Indeed you know him; beware for he will strive to destroy your family once again, the time is rapidly drawing nigh chosen champion of Primus… The seeds of the Future lie buried in the past.” It spoke in that calm hypnotic feminine tone; Elder Rutherford sneered at the effrontery long had he known this day would come and he had done all in his power to prevent it.

    “Cybertron is a haven for machines; it will not be reformatted.” He snarled darkly; the Oracle seemed to smile and shone with an inner radiance as the starscape visible in its’ orb-like face shifted and constantly changed.

    “What is must be, what is not must be again; Primus’s vision will be achieved for you yourself are the cause of it, a Technorganic life form… Absolute perfection.” She reminded; Elder Rutherford closed his eyes tightly and hid his thoughts even more so, his feelings on the matter were quite clear.

    “I was assimilated; they can not suffer the same fate it will weaken them, should Unicron return…” He attempted to argue; the Oracle danced with what might have been laughter, its’ program so sophisticated that many believed it possessed sentient life of its’ own.

    “Resistance was futile for yourself, so too shall it be futile for them; however we understand each other, you fear the Dark one’s return, you sense it… We shall reconsider the total reformatting of Cybertron, but those destined to defend it from Megatron’s Vehicons must embrace the way of Technorganic life, as I said; the Seeds of the Future, Lie Buried in the Past.” She pointed out; Elder Rutherfords’ eyes snapped open and he looked satisfied, though in truth he was extremely uneasy.

    “Yeah; the question is whose past, Cybertrons or mine?” He wondered to himself aloud before rising from his meditative pose his Council’s robes, which he always wore to these sessions out of habit un-wrinkling and losing their scrunched up appearance.

    “Elder this is Officer Apelinq; I have a new report to give.” Apelinq’s voice filtered out from the tiny Starfleet insignia on Rutherford’s left breast; the Elder nodded though he knew Apelinq could not see him.

    “I am on my way back to the Citadel.” He reported after tapping the com badge twice; glancing once more at the Oracle he considered what was to come, and then turning he left unobserved by any and all save the ever present Uatu the Watcher and a few other hidden individuals who had long ago taken a vested interest in the affairs of this relocated individual from an alternate reality.

    To Be Continued…
  11. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    Hmmm; it would appear nobody has much interest in this story, or perhaps it's too confusing for you all... Well look out because some of this might get even further confusing now that Episode Four is finished; allow me to share...

    Darkness & Light

    Icebird had been a Maximal of little consequence; his current cell mate, a Predacon by the name of Razor Claw had been living on the street, evicted from her apartment because she couldn’t hold a job. But really she had tried; she’d looked everywhere, but because of her status as Predacon few Maximals had been willing to hire her and so here she was.
    They’d been grabbed off the street in the dead of night by unknown units; at first they’d talked to one another, but after a while they ran out of topics and had grown silent. Unknown to either of these hapless individuals they were being observed by their captors; Chro cawed as his master turned at the sound of Megatrons’ approach, his master smiled.

    “Is there a reason you jeopardized our safety?” He demanded; Chro’s master chuckled as he brought up a readout of the prisoners.

    “These two possess the necessary elements for me to attempt a reversal of the beast mode adaption process.” He informed with a quick incline of his head. “I intend to witness first hand the entire reformatting process and with that knowledge I should be able to fully reverse the process.” He finished; Megatron quirked a brow in bemusement.

    “I see; and can you guarantee it will work?” He asked.

    “Of course, as you can see I’ve selected the most compatible DNA for this test.” Megatron’s former teacher informed passing over the data; Megatron eyed it skeptically, placing it to one side he eyed the two captives.

    “Which two do you intend to attempt first?” He asked; his colleague smiled slyly as he turned back to the observation monitor.

    “All four of course.” He stated with a hint of professional scholastic interest. “I thought I’d try to create the first organic triple changers at the same time; Transmetals are one step in that process, but their third modes are vehicular in nature and the organic elements become lost or shunted aside to the robot modes rather then remaining constant.” He elaborated running through several rapid displays of various units. “I hope to create Transformers capable of converting into two purely organic beast modes; one to dominate the land, and the other to dominate the sky.” He added with a grin knowing that Megatron’s irrational hatred of organics could very well lead to a verbal explosion; Megatron however managed to keep his bigoted comments to himself as he smiled darkly and placed an encouraging hand on his mentor’s shoulder.

    “Ever the scientist, yesssss; I trust your experiments won’t jeopardize my personal problem.” He remarked a thinly veiled threat hidden in his shrewd tone; the slightly larger Predacon smiled in turn and gently though forcibly removed Megatron’s hand from his now slightly buckled shoulder.

    “One thing that is foremost on my mind.” He began opting to ignore the implied threat of violence. “Is the fact that your plans for Cybertron might be to grand to enact.” He finished; Megatron’s optics narrowed darkening with rage. “But fear not, I shall strive to resolve your unwanted predicament to the best and most assuredly more then capable efforts of my own brilliant mindset; I am a far cry superior then your former eight legged lieutenant.” He returned; Megatron simply nodded and turned to leave, pausing to shoot a glare back at his former teacher.

    “See that you… Do not.” He stated leaving the rest unsaid and then he left; Chro squawked indignantly as he flitted to his masters’ shoulder, the Predacon scientist smiled as he stroked below the cybernetic familiars’ beak.

    “Relax my little friend; I know how to keep one step ahead of Megatron, after all; I taught him all he knows or even thinks he knows.” He added his smile darkening as he turned to his work; the recently completed squadron of Aerodrones flitted into the cell and grabbed the Maximal in preparation of the first experiments, Chro cawed sounding as though he was cackling at the Maximal’s misfortune.

    Rhinox was uncertain about Elder Rutherford or his claims that the other Elders were corrupt; the only true evidence of corruption Rhinox had seen so far had been within Elder Rutherford himself. He had plotted the assassination of Megatron, spared an agent of Tripredacus for some secret mission that no one seemed to know about and currently spoke behind closed doors with Optimus more times then he’d care to admit; Rhinox felt that Rutherford had lost sight of things.
    The Maximal engineer found himself to be not especially pleased with how things were working on Cybertron; he was missing something, he knew it and didn’t know if he wanted to stay on Cybertron any longer. He’d returned to his apartment and a few experiments that he’d been planning prior to the Axalons’ reassignment; his mind however wasn’t on his work, the plan for his new Transwarp probe lay forgotten by his side as he contemplated recent events.
    Perhaps all he had to do was prove the Elder wrong; it couldn’t be hard to find some data to discorroborate his claims, yes he’d get that info and prove that the Council were the same as they’d always been. Climbing to his feet he moved to his desk; detaching one small panel he removed his former identicard, it was time to pay an old friend a visit.

    Darkness & Light

    Fiona made her way to the Peregrines’ usual docking sight; after the attack security was on high alert and it had proven difficult to get this far into the spaceport even though she was legally a member of the crew and the Peregrine would soon be departing on her mission for Elder Rutherford. Not to mention the fact that she was human; and no matter how sophisticated DNA scanners couldn’t give human transforms to either faction, although rumors persisted there were some on Earth.
    Fiona was dressed in her customary style of clothing; a plain midnight blue top and olive green pants, a dark olive green to be precise, her hair was tied back in a bun and her optic implants had been tinted hazel for today. Fiona Laurence was one of the less prominent descendants of the Witwicky clan; she’d been born to Aretha and Donald Laurence on March Nineteenth Two Thousand Three Hundred Seventy-Nine, her parents in turn could trace their ancestry back to Buster Witwicky himself.
    There was also supposedly a bit of Jameson blood in her from the self-proclaimed hero of New York who’d claimed to finally unmask Spider-Man, total bull; still Fiona was privileged. She’d been born blind, but her parents didn’t trust standard Earth solutions; reports on illegal gene splicing and worse had scared them off from Stark-Fujikawa Enterprises or Benton Tech.
    So they’d come to Elder Rutherford for advice, being a trusted hero of the past and friend to all Witwicky’s no matter how distantly related; he’d performed the necessary surgery and presented her with the implants. Illegal technology; or so he’d claimed, but she’d discovered the truth after being exposed to his old collection of Star Trek The Next Generation movies.
    Polar Claw was working on the supplies when she reached the ship; fortunately the Peregrine didn’t suffer the same problems as her fictional counterpart, the Falcon constantly broke down, the Peregrine handled like a dream. A dream built by Junkions, but still a dream; Ebony waved at her as she came up the ramp.

    “Perfect timing, you can show our new crewmember to the bunks.” She said with a smirk; Fiona rolled her eyes, they were never going to let her forget the first time aboard. It wasn’t her fault she blew out half the systems; Rutherford’s design specs had accommodations for an Astromech, so she figured it’d be ok for a data port uplink, how was she supposed to know it was a power socket?

    “You’d better get used to taking orders from a human!” Captain Synthia barked at the lithe feminine unit with the cool red and grey tones.

    “And what if I don’t?” The unknown femme challenged; Syn smirked dangerously, an expression she shared with her brother that could send chills down anyone’s spine.

    “Then you’ll find out what the other side of a black hole looks like.” She replied softly; the Maximal, or was it Predacon? Took a hesitant step back and lowered her head submissively; Fiona cleared her throat as she made her presence known, her thick maroon curls catching the light of ships’ systems at that moment. “Ah good; Sonar follow Fiona, she’ll get you settled in for take off.” She ordered.

    “Yes Ma’am.” Sonar returned; Fiona hid her smirk as she led the Cybertronian into the ship, she didn’t say a word until she reached the last empty bunk, there weren’t many places to live on Peregrine.

    “Here you go Sonar, try not to get lost; Syn wouldn’t take kindly to your mucking around.” She warned; Sonar nodded the large bat inspired ears drooping slightly, Fiona shrugged and left to stow her carry on pack, then she’d have to check the gunnery stations and make sure they all checked out.

    Sonar felt miserable as she glanced around at the slightly cramped quarters; a recharger bed, Energon chip replicator and small desk were all the comforts allotted to her. She’d thought serving the Predacons would make her a hero; maybe even give her the chance she’d felt she’d deserved at a seat of power, Predacons weren’t the only ones to crave it after all.
    Besides; after the Colony Omicron incident she’d wanted the chance to kill the ones responsible for her families deaths, true Cybertronian families weren’t the same as humans, but they held the same meaning to each other as a Humans’ would; and on the Colony worlds the process of spark replication was practiced more widely then on Cybertron proper who had access to the Oracle and Vector Sigma.

    “Such a shame about your failure Sonar.” The voice whispered with a slight cackle; she sat bolt upright and glanced all around for the source, but saw no one. “That’s right I’m not there; at least not physically.” He said cackling louder this time; Sonar felt she should recognize the voice.

    “Who’s there?” She demanded though her fear was self evident; fear that she was truly beginning to lose her mind.

    “Just a friend.” The voice responded in a false tone of sincerity. “Someone who can make certain the Tripredacus Council doesn’t eliminate you for failing them.” He added cackling once again; Sonar gasped.

    “How?” She wondered desperate for any escape from her ultimate fate; the voice laughed, and again seemed hauntingly familiar.

    “All you have to do is sabotage this search; keep the crew from locating Lio Convoy until I wish it.” He informed; Sonar glanced about hoping to catch a glimpse at the source of this voice, but then she slowly nodded realizing it was futile.

    “I’ll do it.” She said her optics flickering darkly; the voice cackled once again and seemed to fade away, and at last she placed a name to it, a name of someone all believed to have perished on prehistoric Earth. “Tarantulas.” She whispered softly in awe; she’d known the legends of the Spider, he was still alive somewhere contacting her with his mysterious telepathy, but the question remained if he had managed to survive the Beast Wars just how had he gotten back to the future?

    He liked to watch the children play; every day after school he’d sit on a park bench and watch the human offspring frolic about, it gave him a sense of peace knowing deep down in his spark he’d done the right thing millennia ago.
    He’d literally watched human history unfold for centuries; standing alongside the Argonauts as a lowly oarsman, fighting next to Hercules in the battle of Troy, riding alongside the Two-Gun Kid briefly and even fighting against the most tyrannical of fascists in both World Wars using his cobbled together pretender shell to hide his true alien nature. And finally he’d met the eccentric inventor and with his help managed to use the Transwarp cell he’d kept secret all those years to travel back to his own time, and now, truly happy at last.
    Some of the parents liked him too; maybe some deep rooted memories passed down from the ancient tribes he’d helped to save from Dragon-Bot. Watching he smiled; or at least approximated the gesture, and then he felt the bench shift as new weight was added to it and he glanced beside him to see who it was.

    “Hello.” The dark green Predacon greeted jovially; this one reminded him of Terrorsaur, they shared identical body designs right down to the peculiar facial gestures and slightly pointed teeth.

    “Officer Fractyl.” He returned with a slight smirk; the shorter Predacon eyed the children briefly.

    “We could use your help you know; you were with him a long time.” Fractyl pointed out; he shook his head, but didn’t say a word. “If he remains at large the children could get hurt, or killed.” He pointed out; the larger Predacons’ wings bristled and he shot a glare at the Predacon peace officer.

    “Dragon-bot not my problem; if you can’t locate him, why not try asking Tripredacus.” He shot back in a dark tone; his voice almost seemed to change from the comical to a low brooding type filled with angst.

    “Suit yourself Waspinator.” Fractyl returned. “But I don’t understand why you won’t help; Apelinq and the others are growing impatient, they don’t like you being quiet.’ He added with a shake of his head a simple friendly warning; Fractyl got to his feet and left while Waspinator turned back to watch the children.

    “Wazzzzzpinator can’t help.” He mused to himself softly. “Dragon-bot too powerful; Wazzzzzpinator can’t help, but Wazzzzzpinator hazzz plan.” He added approximating a smirk with his strangely unique mouth design; and he kept watching the children play, he liked to watch them play.

    Jennifer Rutherford wife to Allan Rutherford Maximal Elder and Cybertronian History Teacher of the Maximal Academy sat at central command; central command was what the family called the twenty-fourth century Federation computer and data base housed in their basement, despite the multitude of advances in human technologies leading up to this the twenty-fourth century of Universe designation Earth Nine Hundred Twenty-Nine the state of the art Starfleet equipment still seemed light-years beyond them.
    Currently the young looking Five Hundred plus year old wife of Elder Rutherford was scanning systems; the sensors were weak when it came to long range scans of distant galaxies, but with a bit of Cybertronian boosting they could map the galaxies spanning from Cybertron to Earth to the Shi-Ar home world and beyond. Her objective at the moment was to find a place capable of housing the combined populace of the humans here on Cybertron temporarily of course; as she worked three of her eldest children joined her, one of them placed a hand on her shoulder.

    “Is this absolutely necessary?” Iliria asked in a concerned tone; Jen sighed and patted her roughly three hundred plus year old daughter’s hand, the woman still kept her hair dyed with that purple streak in it and her rich green eyes shone with the hidden psychic ability she’d developed in her early teen years.

    “Megatron is a much larger threat now that he has time to perfect his Vehicons my daughter.” She replied sagely. “Your father insists.” She added with a tiny frown; she’d noticed a change in Al, a change that scared her a little, but she trusted him to avoid falling into the same old traps despite his penchant for trouble and adventure.

    “Someone’s trying to call us.” Alyssa, Iliria’s twin sister spoke up; Jen glanced to the communication device where a blinking red light appeared, frowning slightly she tapped the response indicator. The image of a young man appeared; thick red curls sitting on the top of his head, he was naked from the waist up and a tricorder lay forgotten beside him.

    “Miguel.” The twins chorused as one huge smiles’ adorning their features; Miguel O’Hara was Jennifer and Allan’s great, great, great, great grandson one of the non-nigh-immortal children in the family, he also happened to be the great, great, great, great, great grandson of legendary hero Peter Parker and was the current Spider-Man of Earth.

    “We just heard the news about Megatron; Rei is understandably upset, she asked me… To contact you.” He revealed averting his gaze slightly as though he might be verbally struck down; Rei was Jen and Al’s first born and had, had a truly upsetting falling out roughly five years ago with her father over the death of Mary Parker, Miguel’s biological aunt who had carried the mutant gene from the Worthington line rather then the non-mutant abilities of the Parker line.
    The woman; who had been barely eighteen had been hunted down by Sentinels following orders from a resurrected Apocalypse and had been brutally tortured in an attempt to recreate the Archangel. As one discovered while investigating the Rutherford lineage Allan and Jennifer’s family tree grew to be exceptionally complex and convoluted as the centuries passed; still Rei had been very close before the incident especially with Mary who she’d taken under her wing in order to make her a member of the X-Men, but Al had been so busy on Cybertron with his role there that he refused to go running off to kill Apocalypse and avenge a member of their family, again.

    “Tell her we’re going to be fine, and give her my love.” Jen requested softly; Miguel nodded glancing briefly to his aunts, Amy smiled, the true eldest daughter of the Rutherford line held no blood ties to either parent; she had been adopted before Al and Jen even married and now had children of her own having shared a deep interest with the mutant Nightcrawler before his tragic demise at the hands of the Legacy virus. Aside from Iliria and the long deceased Nancy, Amy was the only one to bear any children; as the Rutherford patriarch had discovered after the first five children were born, their Borg nanoprobes were specifically engineered to prevent any male births, but that was still a touchy subject with him.

    “Mom sends her best, we’ve got Kang under control for the time being; oh and the X-Men were wondering if granddad could perform the ceremony this year for the fallen.” He added; Jen smiled and shook her head, relocating to Cybertron didn’t stop those who remembered them on Earth from making such requests.

    “I’ll see what he says, but considering what might happen here I make no promises.” She returned; Miguel nodded and visibly winced as he cut the communication off at his end, he must have been fighting a tough opponent just before making the call, most likely Venom who never let go of his grudge against the Parker line despite Peter’s death.

    “Do you want me to get the ship?” The Catarian woman asked; Jen nodded as she smiled at Amy, at least her husbands’ geekyness could still be counted upon even in his extreme old age.

    “I’m getting too old for this.” She complained to herself under her breath before addressing her children. “We’ll begin the evacuation as soon as we’ve scouted the planet with Voyager.” She informed; Amy nodded and moved to step up onto the physical transporter pad, the original Allan had misappropriated so to speak was still on Earth in the home originally built what seemed like lifetimes ago and left there for the use of they’re mutant grandchildren who insisted on carrying on the family legacy of inescapable heroics. This one they now used on Cybertron had once been a part of Salvation headquarters, but as the family itself began to grow more and more attached and embroiled with Cybertronian politics over the years Roma had ceased calling upon the premier super hero team created by her husband; which probably explained his over saturation of Transformers history and allies the past hundred years or so. “My husband needs to get out more.” She thought to herself as Amy tapped the com badge she still wore in case of emergencies.

    “Amy to Voyager; one to beam up Doctor McCoy.” She called over the communicator; the transporter whined and with typical sound effects Amy vanished from Cybertron’s surface, Jen smiled with a shake of her head, Allan had a personal X-Wing, the Millennium Falcon and even a replica of the Starship Voyager including a holographic crew based on his favorite characters… Yes he was still very much a big geek at heart; and she would always love that about him, but now was not the time to bring up her concerns surrounding his close mindedness of late and so turning back to the sensors she continued to seek suitable temporary lodgings for the human populace, as she had come to expect over the years Transformers like Megatron could make their moves at any time and it paid to be three steps ahead of them.

    The hall of records stored vast quantities of data; the information was gleaned from the exploits of all Transformers, but also the super computer known as Vector Sigma. It was here Rhinox hoped to discover the proof that would end Elder Rutherfords’ suspicions; here that the memory of his old friend resided, stored in data tracks form the only means to talk with the dead of the past.
    Wolfang had been a brilliant scientist; and at one point had served on the Convoy Council as Fenris Convoy, but after disbanding and reformatting his body to lose the stylized likeness of the legendary Optimus Prime, called Convoy on Earth by the Japanese government hence their assumed title of Convoy Council.
    Wolfang had worked closely with Shi-Ar scientists in the hopes of discovering the fate of the missing Predacon leader Antagony. His search led to his death; the cause was still unknown and no body had ever been produced, but Rhinox didn’t care about that, he wanted the information surrounding the Council of Elders, information that could put a stop to Rutherford’s accusations and schemes.

    “Greetings Roadblock; your access to sector Nieran is permitted, please step forward.” The computer voice stated; Rhinox smirked, he had to remember to get his name changed on this thing at his earliest convenience. Passing through the massive double doors Rhinox strode directly to the eastern wing and the data tracks of well respected members of Maximal and Predacon society, Fenris Convoy and Wolfang were listed conjointly with the other five members of the Convoy Council.

    “Now to begin the search.” Rhinox said to himself as he moved to one of the interface terminals.

    Icebird felt pain like no other; some kind of virus had been used on him after the experiments, he wasn’t fully conscious as the agony kept sending him into stasis lock, but then a foreign substance forced him back to consciousness.
    His body kept transforming against his will; first he felt massive, four legs kept him standing and a thick covering of fur was all over his body. And then he was perched on two thinner legs with wide wings and soft downy feathers; eventually he felt a ripping, spark wrenching burst of pure agony and then nothing.
    When next he regained his senses he was again in the four legged form and could faintly hear voices discussing him; voices that seemed to be coming from a different far off room.

    “That virus should never have been tested Megatron; if I am to purge your beast form I can’t have you interfering with my test subjects.” One voice complained; Icebird shook his head groggily and climbed to his paws, the beast mode must have enhanced his healing for obviously they had not expected him to regain consciousness.

    “Icebird Maximize!” He exclaimed desiring freedom of this bulky form; his transformation was not what he expected, the beast mode seemed to contract and transform in a slightly less painful manner from before and then he was once again in the winged beast form.

    “There is no hope for either of them now; your interference has cost me two subjects.” The first voice exclaimed much clearer now; Megatron’s words had gone unheard during the agonizing conversion. “Your transformation enhancer coupled with my triple changer experiments have resulted in total robotic destruction.” The voice continued scientifically. “Both the Maximal and the Predacon now only have two forms, beast and beast; their robot bodies were physically decimated and absorbed into the organic flesh; almost as if the beast mode’s natural healing ability perceived their robot modes as viral infections to be eradicated, I’ll need new test subjects now to find that so called cure.” He finished; Icebird almost screamed, he’d been captured, experimented on and now he wasn’t a Maximal anymore. According to the Predacon scientist who’d captured them his robot mode was gone; replaced by two beast forms, and Razor Claw had suffered through the same process, probably while he was left unconscious.
    He had to get out of here; and he’d take her with him, he needed to find a cure for their predicament, help, anything, tell the Council where Megatron was. But without weapons how could he hope to escape? Maybe if he had enough time he could learn what these beast modes had to offer; and in so doing manage to escape, he just needed the time.

    Rhinox sat slumped in the seat he’d been sitting in for the past eight megacycles; he was at a complete loss, his studies of Wolfang’s data tracks hadn’t led to salvation only pain and confusion, knowledge in this case came at a very high price. The singular question now running through his head was a simple one; though the answer wasn’t as simple, what was he supposed to do now?

    To Be Continued
  12. Lock Cade

    Lock Cade Tarn Fangirl

    Nov 16, 2006
    Trophy Points:
    Say, you wouldn't have happened to have posted this fanfic on, have you? I was reading some Transformers fanfics on that site earlier today, and I saw that title listed among them. Just curious.
  13. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    Yes I did post it there as well; expanding my horizons in hopes of getting further reviews.
  14. Scrapper6

    Scrapper6 Lord of Constructicons

    Jul 2, 2002
    Trophy Points:
    Still not many reviews; alas how dissapointing, yesssss. Ah well; I enjoy writing this tale, hopefully there are those who enjoy reading it, alow me to introduce you to Episode Five...

    Welcome to Gaia (Author's Note: I'm not sure which spelling is correct in the contect of Beast Wars II Gaea or Gaia, considering both exist in certain translations of the Tech Specs, so I'm using Gaia for now to differentiate it from Gaea/Earth.)

    Magmatron stood on the bridge of the Predacon cruiser Annihilus watching as his men brought them into solar orbit of planet Gaia; the planet was a product of experimentation, using unknown alien technologies survivors of the Kree had attempted to create a new home world in place of the one devoured by Unicron at the near dawn of their civilization. The Quintessons purged the race from the universe; following their races’ mandate, for the Quintessons had once been servants of Unicron, before the coming of Galactus and the near total elimination of their race.
    It was abandoned for eons until Galvatron discovered it and the Angolmoise; a source of pure Energon said to be imbued with the power cosmic itself, but Magmatron didn’t care about the sciences surrounding it.

    “The ruins of Majin Z are still in orbit.” Sling announced from his station; Megastorm sneered.

    “Of course they are, just like the last time.” He scoffed; Magmatron strode down from the upper deck and approached planetary sensors and tracking.

    “Any readings of Angolmoise?” He demanded; Dead End checked the readings and shook his head.

    “Inconclusive; fallout from Galvatron’s destruction is still blanketing this system, it’s only been three Stellar Cycles since the death.” He reminded; Megastorm growled and marched over to navigation.

    “Is that what I think it is?” He demanded indicating the non-planetary bodies visible on the scopes.

    “Earthling vessels, Shi’ar and Pheadron too by the looks of it.” Bazooka agreed; Magmatron smirked as he returned to his throne-like command chair, always a feeling of power once one was seated upon it.

    “They must be after the Energon.” Killer Punch noted with a contempt filled stare; Megastorm eyed Magmatron dark expressions shared by both leaders.

    “Notify all stations; we attack at once, the Angolmoise belongs to the Predacons alone.” Magmatron proclaimed getting comfortable for what he believed to be a short battle; Dead End relayed the order and almost immediately shield power was boosted.

    “Run silent.” Megastorm added; the lights instantly dimmed and the ever present thrum of the engines vanished, the Annihilus was a state of the art war cruiser supplied by the surviving Decepticons and was possessive of numerous advantageous technologies and systems.

    Captain Jameson of the Earth Exploration Craft Excelsior was currently sipping a glass of brandy as he relaxed in his state cabin aboard ship; the Cybertronians had abandoned Gaia, and if they were too weak to find a proper use for the Angolmoise. Well; that’s what the Earth Defense Coalition was for, unfortunately they had no choice but to share it with the Shi’ar and Pheadron, diplomacy was oftentimes a curse.
    Without warning one of the Pheadrons’ transport vessels exploded; alarms erupted and a massive Predacon cruiser appeared in the middle of the fleet, which meant a micro jump at below transwarp speeds.

    “Captain Jameson to the bridge.” Lieutenant Commander Viera ordered; the Captain however had already left to assume his command.

    Magmatron watched in satisfaction as Pheadron transports exploded under continuous firepower; the weakest species died first, Shi’ar and Earth vessels moved to defend their somewhat allies. Naturally this did little to damage the Annihilus; Cybertronian spacecraft weren’t simply built, they were poured.
    Smaller fighters and transports maneuvered around the larger capital ships; trading fire with the Predacons when capable, the larger vessels could maneuver just as easily, but slowly and thus became easy targets.

    “I miss being able to fly out there and take potshots.” Buzzsaw complained as she swung her gunners’ station around and blasted one of the Shi’ar fighters apart, debris clattered against the hull; shields were designed specifically to repel energy weapons.

    “I don’t.” Lazorbeak retorted as he and Razorclaw reloaded missile tubes fore. “Too easy to get picked off by a fusion cannon.” He added.

    “Those were banned by the Elders.” Razorclaw reminded; Lazorbeak shook his head and jammed the missile in angrily.

    “Big deal.” He gripped. “Dead End; fire batteries three, five and twelve.” He added via com line; the launchers he’d just finished loading roared and two more lights in the distance winked out.

    “I’d prefer to keep this ship in one piece.” Skyshadows’ voice drifted down over the com from engineering. “The last ship I was on stranded me on prehistoric Earth.” He added with a hint of disgust in his tone.

    “Relax; the flesh creatures are already fleeing.” Megastorm returned confidently; a flashing indicator caught Dead Ends’ attention and he turned to Bazooka.

    “Inbound Transwarp signature.” He reported; Magmatron visibly stiffened and clutched the arm rest on his left side knowing inexplicably that only one vessel would have been sent after him and his optics narrowed.

    “It’s the Gung Ho II.” Bazooka confirmed.

    “Big Convoy.” Magmatron hissed optics narrowing further in rage; this time he vowed to end the Maximals life, only one of them would be walking away from this encounter.

    Welcome to Gaia

    The Gung Ho II burst out of transwarp at battle protocol; the debris field was a dead giveaway that the Predacons were present, the incoming laser fire and rockets was an even bigger giveaway and Big Convoy ordered evasive maneuvers.
    The Predacon cruiser barreled down on the Maximal vessel weapons blazing; B’Boom wasn’t pleased with the welcoming committee and Longrack was hard pressed to get in a decent shot as the ships nearly collided in space.

    “I told you we should have come into the system on sub-light.” He observed; Stampy shot the blue and grey mandrill based unit a glare all the while evading missile and rocket fire and bringing their own batteries to bear.

    “All stations fire when we’re in range; Break, Stampy bring us fully alongside them.” Big Convoy barked; the Maximal crew operated as one working in tandem to follow their commanders’ orders, the Maximal ship pulled up almost perpendicular to the Predacon cruiser horizontally in space and the two shared volleys at point blank range. Bonecrusher lost his footing and crashed to the decking; with a growl he levered himself back up and grabbed one of the torpedoes quickly loading it into the launcher and firing it without bothering to aim.

    “Shields are still holding.” Mach Kick informed; Big Convoy nodded as the Annihilus past the point of efficient containment.

    “Bring us around for another pass; target their defensive and propulsion systems.” He ordered; Stampy nodded and executed a sharp one eighty, the ship maneuvered back towards the Annihilus forward guns blazing rapidly to little avail.

    “Damage report nominal Magmatron; those Energon guzzling fossils know how to build a ship.” Dead End observed with a chuckle; Magmatron sat clutching both arm rests of his command chair as he glowered at the Gung Ho II rapidly drawing even once again. Unfortunately for the assessment the Maximals knew how to build ships as well; it could take hours to deal with them, unlike the Axalon or other Exploratory Craft the Gung Ho was built for combat.

    “There must be a way to evade them and reach the planet undamaged.” Megastorm grumbled pulling up a display on his arm mounted diagnostic port; the image revealed Gaia’s moon and the floating ruins of Majin Zarak coming up fast on the port side. “Pilot us towards the moon; I have a contingency plan to enact.” He ordered; Dead End nodded and shifted into overdrive skipping past the Gung Ho II’s current attacks and driving to port.

    “I trust you know what you’re doing.” Magmatron stated; Megastorm smirked, but kept his ultimate goal to himself.

    As stated previously Gaia had been created by the Kree though modified by an unknown race of aliens at one point in the distant past to become a Technorganic world; the Kree had been nearly wiped out and only a few remnants survived most all located on Earth, there was however a solitary guardian who had lain dormant in suspended animation for countless eons. The presence of the Predacons on Gaia had awakened her; using her tools she watched the war growing more and more concerned at the safety of the planet, and so she was forced to get involved.
    Using her natural abilities and the technologies at hand she attempted to sway the Predacons to the side of good, but only one seemed inclined to listen; his name Starscream.
    Unfortunately it had turned out to be a ruse; her feelings decimated she turned to the Maximals for help, and in the end all seemed right. Megastorm however happened to know of a virus; and now he intended to use that knowledge and his servant Moon, an automated defense unit reprogrammed by the Kree woman to mimic a Cybertronian, in forcing the Maximals away from this far too even confrontation.

    “It can’t be.” Artemis exclaimed as she witnessed the two mighty vessels clashing amongst the stars. “Moon; activate our shields.” She ordered; the little yellow robot however seemed to be frozen as the signal was sent invisibly through short range communications lines. “Moon, what’s wrong?” She wondered eyeing the truly lone companion she had on this desolate landscape; his optics seemed to flicker slightly and then he burst into a sinister grin, an expression made all the more disturbing due to the cute nature of the robots’ general body design.

    “I’m afraid that’s out of the question my dear.” He remarked in a tone alien to him; Megastorm had assumed control and totally wiped out the less then perfect False Cybertronians’ personality programs. “It is time for the Maximals to collect their debt; through you of course.” He finished; leaping up impressively high the short yellow companion thrust out with a kick, Artemis screamed in pain as she was bashed into the monitoring bank of computers and she felt her ribs cracking.

    “No.” She gasped trying to late to defend herself; Moon smirked knowingly and depressed the self-destruct switch, how convenient that the Kree had thought of every contingency.

    “Power spike on the moon Big Convoy.” Mach Kick informed; the Maximal commander rose from his seat eyeing the screens uncertainly.

    “Why would Artemis act against us though?” Break asked. “She must be trying something against the Predacons.” He added sagely; Big Convoy shook his head, something felt wrong and he wasn’t about to let any innocent pay the price no matter if it meant letting the Preds’ land on Gaia.

    “Break off attack.” He ordered. “Head for the moon at all possible speed.”

    “But.” Stampy tried to protest.

    “Do it!” Longrack snapped; Stampy nodded and input flight commands, he hated turning tail when those Preds had caused so many problems, but duty was duty.

    “We have our window.” Megastorm proclaimed confidently. “We can land without interference now.”

    “Dead End, take us down.” Magmatron ordered; the smaller unit nodded and quickly headed for the planets surface, the Maximals could still follow, but on the planet they had a greater advantage and could pick them off at their leisure.

    Artemis was in so much pain; Moons’ attack broke her rib cage and she could tell there were some internal damages beyond that, but she had to stop the moon base from destructing otherwise all hope was lost. It would throw off the orbit of Gaia until the planet eventually collided with the systems sun; Moon was still under Predacon control though and she couldn’t get near the controls.
    Trying again she was about to be struck down by the disturbingly cute menace when a blast struck him from behind shattering him to pieces and leaving him a broken pile of scrap.

    “Looks like somebody took construction lessons from the Neimoidians.” Airhammer remarked his right arm still rippling with energy.

    “You and that stupid movie.” Torca complained marching over to the Kree woman. “Are you ok?” He asked concernedly.

    “Once I see a medic.” She retorted. “Quickly you must help me stop the self destruct.” She pleaded; Airhammer chuckled as he held up a blinking piece of equipment.

    “Claw Jaw disconnected the detonator.” He explained with a sheepish smile in his optics. “Personally I think you should have taken Lio’s advice.” He added in a conspiratorial tone; Torca rolled his optics and gently picked Artemis up.

    “Let’s get you patched up.” He stated; Artemis smiled gratefully and promptly lost consciousness, Airhammer sighed.

    “Even other species swoon for you.” The shorter Fuzor complained jokingly; Torca grunted and spun to face his companion with a glare.

    “Keep it up fins and feathers and you’ll be space walking home.” He grumbled; Airhammer chuckled and led the way back to the shuttle, fortunately the Gung Ho kept a few emergency transports docked otherwise they might not have made it in time.

    The Tripredacus Council had been working overtime to locate Megatron to little success; they were extremely displeased with the failure of their spy, and to make matters worse Elder Rutherford had usurped her for some insane mission across the known Galaxies. They required a new mission, but unfortunately could find few trustworthy Predacons to be their new agents; Ramhorn shook his head as he disgustedly tossed his data pad to the side.

    “Our resources are being depleted by Megatrons’ schemes.” He remarked; Seaclamp nodded concurrently.

    “We fail to locate him, yet he seems to know where all of our Cybertron based stockpiles are located.” Cicadacon observed. “Perhaps if we forcibly reclaimed Sonar.” He mused.

    “I’m afraid I can’t allow that; her presence aboard Rutherfords’ ship allows me to interfere.” A familiar voice interrupted with a familiar cackle.

    “Tarantulas.” Seaclamp exclaimed as the Predacon materialized before the council; he seemed different somehow his body appeared almost transparent and he looked almost dead thanks to the black and silver color scheme.

    “Greetings old friends; reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” The spider informed with a mad cackle; Cicadacon eyed him suspiciously.

    “The aliens again?” He wondered; Tarantulas nodded flickering slightly out of focus.

    “The Vok; a simple name for so arrogant a race.” He remarked repeating words he’d uttered once before. “They attempted to destroy me and interrupted my plans to destroy the Ark; unfortunately for them destroying one of Unicrons’ former vassals is not so easy a task after all Elder Rutherford failed long ago.” He added cackling again; Ramhorn smirked as he leaned back in his seat arms crossed.

    “You can aid us in dealing with Megatron then.” The hulking Predacon stated confidently; Tarantulas shook his head.

    “I am still attempting to fully corporealize; my skills, old and new have become weak and my spark is still in flux.” Tarantulas informed; he approximated a smirk then and an energy orb appeared, it crackled and shimmered expanding slightly until four units emerged. “However; I do have some allies to offer.” He added with another cackle; the short blue and black transmetal two shifted his shoulders and bowed to the council, the orange and blue unit inclined his head in a show of respect and the organic dark green and orange unit flexed his upper torso muscles as though he’d been cramped for far too long.

    “Where did you get these?” Seaclamp wondered curiously; Tarantulas chuckled slightly and placed a hand on the only familiar face among the group, although his new design proved different from what he had looked like prior to his mission.

    “Ravage and I spent some time salvaging these forgotten soldiers of the Beast Wars.” He explained. “Spittor and Iguanus are more then eager to deal with Megatron for abandoning them and Powerpinch is a highly trained assassin.” He added; Cicadacon smiled and rose.

    “We shall take these troops to aid in our quest.” He returned.

    “But what about Magmatron; he’s obviously in league with Megatron now and not furthering our own goals any longer.” Ramhorn returned; Ravage bared his fangs his claws twitching as though grasping for weapons he no longer possessed.

    “Magmatron will be meeting with an unfortunate development on Gaia.” He replied; the Tripredacus Council shared an eager look, soon all of the rogue elements would be contained and then perhaps their initial plans for eliminating the Maximal Elders could finally be enacted.

    Magmatron stood on Gaia once again; this was where his ultimate goals had taken him once before in search of glory and power and he would be damned if he let anyone prevent his true mission this time let alone his ultimate nemesis Big Convoy.

    “The Maximals have landed near the remains of Lio Convoys’ vessel.” Dead End reported; Magmatron nodded.

    “Typical.” He remarked. “Take Killer Punch, Sling and Bazooka to secure the Angolmoise well we discovered last time.” He ordered; Dead End acknowledged this with a slight incline of his head, as he left Megastorm joined Magmatron.

    “The Autorollers, my brother, even the four fools we recruited who desired a chance for true power; they all met their end on this planet and if not for some small miracle I too might have shared their fate.” He mused. “But this time I guarantee the Maximals will be destroyed and the Angolmoise will fuel not only our conquest of Cybertron, but Earth as well.” He proclaimed; Magmatron shrugged, let Megastorm have his fun for the time being, when the time was right he’d be dealt with. That was the one trait most common amongst Predacon leaders; their need to eliminate the competition, or in this case ensure that their current allies could not betray them.
    Megastorm stared at the horizon dreaming of a world; indeed a universe where Predacons ruled and Maximals were the enslaved faction, forced into obeying their Predacon overlords, just as Galvatron had envisioned for their kind.

    The lone figure stood in the wastelands of the unknown world; he did not recall a time when he’d seen such desolation, why had he come here? The call had been strongest and so he’d heeded it; this was where he hoped to find the answers, and yet he still did not know the question. Cybertron was in grave danger; only he could help save it and yet how, where did the danger come from?
    Within or without; shrugging his haunches he stalked across the desert of the planet and followed the unseen call knowing that this was the right thing to do, for all sentient beings.

    To Be Continued…

    There we go; and no the character in the last scene is not Optimus Prime or some other Autobot, however he does have a connection to the Matrix and has been mentioned at least once or twice since the story has begun. :D  I did try to make a lengthy space battle scene, but I'm not especially good at drawing out fight scenes in certain respects and I'll be the first to admit it. They all seem to go by so damn fast no matter how many pages I try to write; oh well, hope you've enjoyed this Episode and a bit of a glimpse at more of the ensemble cast that this story is growing to incorporate, if anyone's interested in an exact cast list just let me know and I'll post one up before we get too much further, maybe even an Episode List too if you want.

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