Yeah. Another fanfic based on the summers Blockbuster Pirates of the Carribean.... ~ Couldn't resist. Anyway, everyone that writes TF fanfics is doing one, you can't really have too many. Er...I kinda spliced the novel and the movie together when I was doing research, just to warn ya. And...readers give me feedback so I can figure how this should end, but I'm thinking on an ending close to that of the video game. *edit* Strapping on the veiwer discretion advised: Foul language and violent content *edit edit* New readers click this to see a poorly colored pick of Tron-Mega. Also, I take no resposibility of the poor quality of the scanning. 1 - Message Received Characters Autobots Optimus Prime Bumblebee Ratchet Decepticons Tron-Mega Dirge Scrapper Longhaul Earth Quake For now.... "Megatron is dead...." In the wake of the battle for the AllSpark, casualties were counted from each faction, bodies of the fallen were terminated on classified location. The non-existent Sector Seven Organization was shut down as a result of contact. These sentient machines were now taking refuge on a small blue planet known as Earth. The AllSpark was destroyed. With it Megatron. The remaining Decepticon activity was shattered, unorganized, lost. This left the Autobots to prepare for the future, a brighter future with much more in store for them. They had befriended the people of this province and thus strive to protect them from whatever threat may come, after all they were new to this world, new to this place they now called home. But where one sees salvation, another sees potential…. Beyond the stars, beyond the planets, stretching across the cosmos known to man, beyond: a message travels. One promising sanctuary and fellowship. “….I am Optimus Prime, and I send this message to any survivors of my kind who may be taking refuge among other systems, other stars. You are not alone. You have a home here, among others of your kind.” “We are waiting.” A forlorn metal face comprised of entangled plates studies the encrypted message a single more duration, scrutinizing through every little detail and its alternate meaning, the glare from the holographic visual siphoned through his optical portals, illuminated the portion of his skull that still existed. Concluding the accumulation of data with any possible after notes to add later, he stood from his console and left to locate the authority of this ship. While maneuvering among the extensive channels, he reflected on how his captain could not spare a few more resources for a larger craft. It was barely adequate enough for his folded frame, he could not image how this was like for someone with more girth, say, Scavenger. He reached the command chamber and paused beyond the doors as they took a moment to analyze his component signature then slid apart and up allowing his entrance. As usual Scrapper and Longhaul were fighting, it was peculiar when they were not. In his centered chair sat commander gazing out the artificial view port one part actual recorded data and another fabricated. It got to him how this machine could sit by while his soldiers fought as if they were not about to rip the ship apart, not only did it freak him out more than his history but irritated his linear function. The commander took notice to the newcomer and gestured for him to report. He moved towards the primary console and jacked in his secure slot and proceeded to upload the data with all the proper security ports and additional backtracking. Even the bickering pilots shut up and listened as the decoded transmission flowed between wavelengths with the renowned entente Autobots were well known for. He played the message again before unhooking the uplink cord to his elbow and turned to his captain waiting for his input on the matter. “Is this some sort of hoax?” thundered Scrapper “You would conclude on that and be proud, wouldn’t you?” poked Longhaul. He turned to his comrade adjacent to his position, beyond that of a three dimensional image of the entire ship. “Only because you are so easy to please.” While the two oddly colored robots went at it again, the informer shifted to his commander for his captious opinion. “…My strut got caught in the cables you slung across your sloppy trail,” spat Scapper. “This is very interesting, Dirge,” the larger mech incurred, silencing both subordinates. “What was transmission &$*00451245? Many of those languages were alien and plagued by encryption frazz, but that one was very strange.” “This message traveled far from across the cosmos,” began Dirge, “but imbedded data expressed that it was a form of speech frequency contrived through airway whistle crafted by carbon based life forms.” He hated the look of glee his chief gave him. “The Autobots hath befriended the result of bacteria evolution? It’s no wonder they seek those of their own smelt.” He rose from his seat and stepped down to the console, placing his hand over the clear view screen he uploaded the datum Dirge had untangled from the primary sequence code. “Me thinks something has occurred if that old slagger is wasting time summoning others from space to safety. Something on a galactic level, perhaps?” Dropping his hand he pivoted to his crew. “If Prime is there then so is Megatron,” directed Scrapper. “Autobot commander, Megatron there, the AllSpark—we gather in a lone solar lapse.” “I am dubious to the lasting presence of Megatron.” He began making a round of the control antechamber. “The Prime would not risk his allies to fall in a trap if Megatron were still alive, but he is confident to transmit a message of peace without arousing open Decepticon communications.” He stopped beside Longhaul and turned to the silent mechanoids waiting for his point. “If he believed there was a chance for us to retrieve the AllSpark he would not call, but he calls and therefore there can be nothing to retrieve if he is willing.” The Decepticons chattered about this new logic. They would have no choice but to agree their captain was right on his accusation, but the idea of Megatron’s demise seemed premature. Was there nothing more for them to fight for if the AllSpark was indeed destroyed? Picking up on the exchange the captain broke in. “The Decepticons dream has yet to be realized – the conquest of Cybertron with aid from the AllSpark, the domination of the universe and all its splendors. Already our platoon has taken many words, many ripe with civilization, many that fuel our ships as our frames, that support or metropolitans. This is only a short step back from our previous forthcoming.” “Yes,” Longhaul agreed. “But without the AllSpark we are in danger of losing that ambition. Our existence is in question.” He couldn’t imagine who would have the gall to destroy that which gave them life, certainly no Cybertronian in its right contemplation would even think to kill their own kind out, no Autobot would and no Decepticon. This had to be the work of the strange carbon based life forms Dirge mentioned. The ideal of losing the AllSpark, the loss of any future Decepticons to strengthen their armies was an alarming detail to add on his mainframe. Hot optics burned on the speaker. “Or course,” he said, “there is no life more precious than his own. Do not forget what Megatron did when he had brief say over the AllSpark.” “Tron-Mega.” Dirge made a gesture of recognition to his leader with his sharp hand. “What is it we do now? Return to Charr with news or continue to the recent interstellar meteor field?” “Neither.” Tron-Mega made way for the exit never bothering a look back. “Chart a course for the origin of that transmission.” The door collapsed behind him. “Is he mad?” Longhaul asked, staring the way the mech went. “We are headed towards an alien planet and probable hostile forces with only half energon stores, we are not even absolute if there will be a sustaining source when we do arrive.” “We were uncertain if the meteors field would have a stable source of energon when we arrived,” off aside Dirge mentioned. “Not my point,” the other Decepticon hissed. “Meteors are predictable, Autobots are not. And what does one of us know what they have given their new allies?” Giving little heed to his comrades complaints Scrapper was already tapping in the recovery of the transmission to its trajectory stream. “Sounds like you fear.” He turned to his similarly colored ally. “I do not. But for eons our kind have fought the Autobots, we were lead by Megatron. Now he is gone. Why? What was different on this planet that was not on Cybertron? There may be something dangerous there. The Autobots have it with their allies, or they would not be calling.” Scrapper emitted a high screech that would have shredded any organic creatures audio reciprocals, but to his kind it was perceived as a uncontrolled laugh. “You fear organics over Autobots? Wonderful. Next you’ll be fearing Frenzy or Rumble because they are small.” “I would not take this situation lightly,” Dirge rumbled. Both turn to him forgetting their arguments. “But I doubt anything short of an Autobot will give us any trouble. We will do what we do best, destroy, maim, kill - anything that is not Decepticon or is traitor.” *** Through the sunny streets of Tranquillity cruised the supreme buff job of a brand new Camero graced by black racing strips slipping up its hood and rolling back its roof. Inside rode his usual passenger listening to the random flipping tunes of the stations, or to someone not familiar with this Camero they seemed like random stations. “Two more of your guys? Really?” Sam asked inattentively. He had one hand laid on the steering wheel as the other hung from the open window, the wind thrashed his short hair every way. “Don’t leave me. Stay with me,” sang the radio soft rock male voice. “So, how many Autobots are out there waiting for this message?” He was aware it could be anywhere near the entire populace of his own world or, as aliens go, a very strange low number. He had no doubt the Transformers would have some trouble getting themselves fitted and hidden, Optimus Prime had informed him before that there were already Autobots on Earth even before his team arrived. When they were forced to abandon Cybertron in quest for survival or in search of the AllSpark, most were scattered throughout the universe. Some took residence on new planets disguised in alien forms while others would befriend these beings in order to survive, or in search of the missing source of life. It was basically every ‘bot for himself. The Decepticons were no different. “I’m sorry, that’s incorrect….” Applause followed through the corny game show voice, the radio scrambled as a new station was sought and played through. “…Just another day in paradise….” More watered down voices before the next song came through. “…You go when you’re needed and stay awhile, then move on….” “You think so? Even if you guys have been separated for god knows how long?” The concept of time to the Transformers still blew his mind. “If we had a leader like Optimus I’d kinda get my ass in gear to meet up with him as soon as I could.” “Only time would tell,” an oddly cold voice said over the radio. *** Hoover Dam, Nevada miles beyond Mission city. A cholo orange and blue flamed Peterbilt semi rolled up to the gates carting an unmarked container. When it stopped it honked the horn twice, paused, honked twice more. Either electrified fencing at its side snapped open and two plain clothes stepped out. The security personal at the booth was just getting off the phone when he hung up and unlocked his reinforced plasteed window. He pressed a button and waved the driverless semi through. Rolling across the near vacant air terminal Optimus Prime constantly sent out buffer waves. There were uniformed privates everywhere carrying Sabot rifles slung over their shoulders, he could even identify the plain clothes disguised as workers concealing simple pistols. The first stop was the semi docking area, he rolled in and unhitched his container, as the personal worked to unload the cargo within he rolled around to the side of the largest building in the containment perimeter. Another checkpoint was here with two armed guards. He braked and blared his horn long, the individuals within their booths covered their ears until he was done then one briskly phoned in his arrival. The other adjusted the controls on his panel behind the plasteed glass, before Optimus at the base of the blast doors a passage opened. A ramp from beneath the door lowered and lights blinked on through the interior to the back and continued. He went into gear and rolled down the incline, through their secured window faces the personnel watched it roll. “All this technology and it’s sendin’ Morris code?” the guards response was heard over the communicator. The other picked up his radio and replied. “Hey, simple is better.” Within the tight passage Optimus barely had enough room for his stacks. Thankfully it was only five short miles of rolling down, along, and further down deeper into the mountain. Once he reached the end there was yet another door waiting for his approach, but this time there were no guards waiting to endure his presence. He guided his grill with uncanny precision to the thick door and stopped before two tiny black dots, lenses. The motor rumbled low and deep. “Identification,” a soulless voice echoed. “Optimus Prime,” his voice echoed through the corridor. “Identification Omega-November-0-0-9-Mars-Line-Ocoloation-Landing-7-4-7.” He waited. “Identification received and accepted. Welcome NBE-3.” After the polite voice a beam of light went from the semis grill into the black lenses. They lit up and the door shifted, it moved aside allowing the large semi to slide through. Once clear of the doorway it stopped, the motor died. Suddenly the portions of the vehicle split and began shifting to rearrange themselves until a pair of arms, legs, torso, and face had emerged. The Goliath machine stood up and looked over as a man approached him. “That is very time consuming,” he said, thumbing at the door shutting behind him. “For one that knows no bounds to time, really?” inquired Agent Mitchell Simmons, former head of Sector Seven. Two armed guards stepped with him, including Tom Banachek and assistant of Secretary of Defense. “You know precautions.” “Indeed I do.” He wanted to sigh but had yet to focus the proper coding of the resonance, it still sounded like a truck hissing. “What is this… relic you wanted me to see?” Simmons turned away leading the robot. “This way, in the Old Chamber.” Much of Sector Seven, or, the ARD7 as it was referred to now, had been remodeled for the use of the new exotic residents to planet Earth. Simmons brought the visitor to the chamber where experiments on the AllSpark had once been performed, now the room was used for the analyzing of foreign substances brought back to Earth by Cybertronian explorers. With no more reason to hide many Autobots in disguise had revealed themselves to their leader and offered their aid to their new allies. This was of course after they made certain Megatron was dead and his followers had either followed or fled. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” Mitchell asked after a few minutes of Optimus staring at the item under question. It sat within the contained perimeter of the lock room on a platform while saws and technical instruments went about their duties to pry apart the mineral casing. It was just that with the subtle outlines enhanced by the groves of the body as a curled body, sort of like a mummy in black marble. It was a few more moments before he would respond, after further scans beside grid enhancements. “Yes, in fact I have.” The response took the humans by surprise, by the way he had been gazing at it they had presumed the alien was just as baffled as they were. Apparently they had underestimated him as well as his perception. “It’s a Transformer,” he continued. “As were all autonomous robotic species native to Cybertron, there was a healthy population of them. That was…until the war began. All but a few of them were wiped out, I once believed them to be extinct.” Tom Banachek pulled out his laptop and reviewed the data collected on the hard mineral. “There are no life signs within. Are you sure?” “Yes. The name best to describe them is…‘Grave Digger.’ That suiting one whom uncovers and digs graves. Megatron hated them for reviving the Transformers he had slain—” “Wait-wait-wait,” Simmons broke in as he looked up at the towering robot. “You’re saying these things would bring NBEs back…from the dead?” He nodded, a human response he had acquired. “Essentially, they were synergetic mechanical organisms. One would bind its energy to a host and live off their energies, in return they would protect the host from anything, with malice.” “If the host died did it?” Simmons asked, taking more interest in the hard piece of calcite. “No. It was only that they could not survive long without a host that made them desperate to maintain one. They could choose new hosts if willing, but the initial first must be eliminated before a new could be acquired. I…too had my hand in wiping them out.” “Then it wasn’t when Megatron began his conquest of Cybertron that he exterminated them, both Autobots and Decepticons slaughtered them.” “I didn’t destroy them out of spite,” Optimus said to Simmons, his voice cold. He gestured to the alien beyond the lock window. “That one there must not be my enemy if he has survived, only those killing for the better specimen were the ones I would eliminate, whereas Megatron slaughtered. The majority of these creatures were impressed by the Decepticons power and sided by them, I could not allow that.” “It sounds cruel,” Maggie was saying, “But them killing for no better, I would say you had no choice. It may be that they would have survived, and the Decepticons as well. Then where would we be?” She gave Simmons a cross glance before she turned to another technician. “Have you been able to breach it yet?” “No ma’am.” He resumed his work, discussing with another individual the capacities of the lock cage. “You won’t ever,” Optimus said to the man. “This Grave Digger shields itself from the elements until its host returns, or else it would have awakened to my presence and attempted to fuse.” He shook his head. “Where is it this was uncovered?” “Who said we found it on Earth?” Simmons looked around at his comrades seeking the one that had whispered anything. “I detect an aura of energy around it signifying a link to its master, if it weren’t for this affinity it would be active and searching. Where was it located? We must search the area for Transformer presence.” A few taps on the laptop and Banachek located the information he needed. “Arizona, Phoenix. A construction crew uncovered it and reported it as junk, attempted to have it hauled away. But anything metal that made contact with it failed, so we were called in. Put a ban on further construction.” He met Optimus’ gaze. “Do you think the host is in disguise and searching?” He considered his old information on the Grave Digger patterns, but little helped. “No. He would have already located it if he were searching.” *** The guard reading his outdated newspaper, fell right out of his chair when the semis horn blared less than twelve feet from his booth. It felt no more than two inches away from his ears. He groped for his console and slapped the trigger that opened the gate, and leaned up to watch as the orange and blue flamed truck rolled out and onto the open road, in his opinion the semi would have looked better in simple red and blue. His heart was still thumping ninety miles a second. Once beyond the gates of Hover Dam, Optimus set up a grid system over the map of Phoenix in his internal memory space. Now out of the facility he was able to receive transmissions from his fellow Autobots responding across satellite link. “Ratchet, report.” “Sir,” came the reply. “I trust your meeting with the Advanced Research Division 7 went well, or you would not be calling so soon.” Over their secure link Optimus did something very unusual, he spoke in his native language. “Is it possible Megatron brought Decepticons from Cybertron on his quest for the AllSpark?” “Huh?” Following Optimus’ example he fell into their native accent. “What do you mean? He was the only one to abandon Cybertron searching for it, he wouldn’t bother dragging his soldiers along so long as it meant him reaching it first, regardless what his followers would do in his absence.” Optimus considered a moment but Ratchet had already supported his own thoughts in every way. “The humans uncovered a dormant Grave Digger, I left it with them secured but I fear what would happen if it awakened in their care.” Shocked by the news Ratchet took his precious time to answer. “A Grave Digger? Are you certain? Could it be…something else? Ravage maybe, he was just as vicious.” “No. I confirmed my scans, it was one. I answered their questions but I know like I, they have withheld some information. It was located in Phoenix, you are nearest that area, I want you to scout around and see if you can locate any anomalies in energy flux, suspicious activity for the local perimeter. Ms. Madsen will report to the Secretary of Defense and his people will be searching as well and possibly digging where the Grave Digger was uncovered so keep a low profile. I want your findings in O-eight hundred hours.” “Yes sir. I’ll keep a link open just in case something does occur.” “I have faith in your judgment, and your abilities. But take heed, we have yet to determine who of those Decepticons are still loyal to their lost leader.” Though as he turned off onto the main highway with traffic, they had no comprehension how many Deceptions would inevitably reveal themselves. *** In any below average town the weekend fair came to visit with its rides and promise of escape from the average drawl beyond plain average carnival. Cotton candy, game vendors handing out prizes, light shows for when night fell and the moon shown itself, the display over the mountains was always spectacular. The concert was playing soft rock remixs of the 80’s with famous singers coming in to play some old favorites. At dusk a yellow car slid into a parking place, its lights shut off with the dying motor and a single door opens. Sam hurries out from his side to open the other door. “No, allow me miss.” Mikaela Banes smirked as her chauffeur opened her door. “And here I thought Bumblebee was just being rude.” An ancient Western style voice shot from the speaker: “Not in your life, pal.” Sam winked at the car. “Go on and have some fun, we’ll meet you back here at, mm…midnightish.” The car uped its volume to get the next spokes message out. “It’s three PM, where are your children?” He pat the hood. “Don’t worry mom, we’ll stay out of trouble.” He stepped back as the engine revved its pristine growl and rolled out, turning on a dime to avoid a large jade green truck just pulling out of its spot. He turned his attention to Mikaela as she looked at him. “What?” She was smiling. “Oh, nothing. C’mon.” She took his hand and led him to the ticket booth. Sam paid their overpriced admission and entered with Mikaela. Instantly in their entrance there came a loud crash followed by wails of terror as the roller coaster swung by on its track. “Lets get us some giant chilly dogs and go on that,” said Mikaela. Sam gave her a look of disbelief. “Uh are you serious? That may not be such a hot idea.” She led him on their way to the food vendor. “What? Scared of roller coasters?” “No,” his voice quaked. “I just don’t like puking my brains out at the start of the fair.” “Aw, come on. You’ve been on something bigger, right? Six Flags? Knotts Berries Farm? This is like a kids wheelbarrow down a slope. Two please, extra cheese.” She fumbled with her wallet. “Um, yeah, Sea World a few times. But I never eat before the extreme rides. No thank you.” He pushed the hot dog away when she tried to hand it to him. She was already biting into hers. “Come on, it’s part of the experience.” She smiled at him with that sexy ‘I can be a tomboy and still look sexy’ poise. Fading from his original hesitation Sam took another glance at the roller coaster as the bucket rattled by and then took the greasy heart stopper. “Fine, but I warned you.” More than half an hour later Sam had won Mikaela a corny stuffed snake with green plush body, but they had yet to go on the roller coaster. They went into the Fun House with mirrors and rolling floors, the Fright House, the Pirate Cove, and screamed through one song of the 80’s. It was now dark and the fireworks display would begin in less than thirty minutes leaving Sam with a serious dilemma. Try and get Mikaela on the Ferris Wheel when the show began and bribe the operator his measly wage in order to stop it at the very top, which could back fire in so many ways. Or, ride the Serpent Roller Coaster and hope he didn’t throw up on her, after he had just eaten a Funnel Cake with a box of Gummie bears and Sour Tarto Wormies. Drinking a diet sprite and looking around Mikaela was having similar ideas. “In less than an hour the fireworks are gonna start, maybe we should get a place on the shore before it crowds over.” Sam looked over at her amd gulped down half-dry kettle corn. “Um, okay.” Confused he looked away missing Mikaela snatching his hand as she led him away. “Wait, hold on. I have a better idea.” Surrounding the lake shore many couples and families had located their segregated areas in which to sit in order to enjoy their type of show. Between PG and the overmatched rated R, some parents wanted their kids concentrate to the explosions in the sky rather the birds and the bees on level. As the temperature dropped very few people sat nearest to the shore where the wind coasted over the surface and made it cold and miserable. That was just as well. The moist soil lifted and a dull orange crown poked up through carpet grass resembling nothing mother Earth had designed. Its optics gleamed in the dark sockets as it focused on the dotted sky. The language in which it spoke was far from Cybertron, far from whatever could be imitated by any alien life form, but its message was clear as it focused on the open waters. “Autobot presence negative. Negative alien vehicle sight of liquid accumulation. Area secured.” Though there were families in the nearby area watching the water none of them noticed the faint glint of metal, assuming it was the carnivals reflection upon a small puddle. Standing in line was taking too much time, at this rate the fireworks would be over and the sun would be rising. “God, please, make this line go faster.” Nervous enough as he was, Sam glanced over at a small pudgy boy eating a bag of cotton candy, he was about six and overweight but he felt better that this kid with his obsession to eat would be on the ride. So long as he did not puke first, he would be cool. If he could do it, I could do it, was Sam’s reasoning. He looked at Mikaela and smiled. “Not nervous, are you?” Smiling, she looked him up and down as though analyzing him the way Ratchet did on their first meeting. “No,” he squeaked. He forced a grin. “Got the tickets?” With that sinking feeling Sam grabbed his pocket and got them out. “Shit!” He looked around at the families and mothers. “Uh, sorry. Sorry.” He turned to Mikaela with pleading mercy he said, “Hold the spot.” He rushed off digging into his pocket for the money, hopefully he would have enough time to get back if the lines were not so slow. Mikaela sighed and tapped her foot. “Hold the line.” Adding on another ten minutes to the clocked, Sam thanked the ticket vendor and raced back to the Serpent. He had to weave and leap his way through the slow moving crowds at creeping darkness and people waddling towards the lake. “Excuse me, thank you, sorry, oops.” He charged to the line of the Serpent seeing the next set of riders getting off and the next set getting on, an irritated Mikaela stood beside the drooling ticket manager waiting. But he was too late. The loaded ride locked in the passengers and shot off as Sam came running up panting. “Got…got some tickets,” he gasped. Mikaela looked from him to the roller coaster riders as they streaked by. “Well, better late than never.” She gestured to the ticket manager. “He said we could get on when you got back.” The man gave the attractive woman a toothy grin. “Ma’am, I’d do anything for a lady.” She sighed taxed by his existence. “I’m sure you would.” At the edge of the lake in the shadows, the Camero pulled up under a large tree and reshaped itself into a short mechanoid in comparison to Optimus Prime. As his yellow plates readjusted along his body, he sat down and scooted back pulling his knees up. Glancing once to the nearby families his eyes lit up with appreciation. Humans had been one of the most fascinating sentient, organic life forms he had ever come across in his long journeys, they were always surprising him. A group of children not bothered by the cold air stood at the shore pulling up cattails to fight each other with, one shoeless splashed his feet in the water. A few raced this and that way along the shore in a game of tag, when one player grabbed the other they wrestle arguing who was ‘it’ this time. A small boy in his swim trunks noticed the gleaming blue eyes in the shade of the tree, his face brightened with a clash of excitement and fear. “A robot!” He raced over to where Bumblebee sat, anxious by his sudden discovery. Five other children followed the boy while another two raced back to their parents, locating them and pointing with complaints. Remembering the words of Optimus Prime, he waited and watched before acting on appearances alone. He could hear the children explain to his and her parents just what they could see but the parents did not even look up. Instead, they pat the kid on the head or dragged him down to sit. That was unexpected, if someone said something to him in relation to danger he would listen no matter how farfetched, or that was how he was programmed by many eons of war now over. He emitted a sound near enough to a sigh of relief. The five children reached him, four huddling behind the trunk wearing braveheart. They had thought the robot was part of the fair and free range, but when it had reacted that was a different story. “Hey,” said the shirtless child, “watcha doin’?” Bumblebee sought his radio response. “Come down and see the fireworks display at the annual fair….” As low as he could so that the children could hear without alerting the parents. “Oh, neat.” Those with him began to relax sensing that if this robot were evil like the ones on TV it wouldn’t bother to answer questions. “I’m Lewis, you got a name?” Meanwhile, on the fair grounds the Serpent Coaster cruised its passengers’ back into place and began unloading. Just then the fireworks began erupting into the sky. “Shoot, they’re starting already,” Sam hissed. “Relax,” Mikaela soothed as she handed over their tickets. “We got time. Besides, the grand finale is the best part.” She and Sam were first on and got the lead seat behind the snakehead, they buckled in a pulled the brace down while snapping up eyes to the erupting sky flowers. “They’re beautiful.” “Uh-huh.” Sam was staring at her. The attendants went through again checking the restraints on the passengers in the greasy old roller coaster ride. Assured by the security of the restraints, each attendant signaled the okay then double-checked, the final warning was played to them amidst the eruptions of sulfur. One attendant gave the signal and the switch was flipped, the roller riders screamed off into the darkness of a tunnel and came out high, slowing, the view of the fireworks high above the land dazzled their faces. “Awesome,” Sam murmured. This had to be the best plan of his that actually worked out. “Oh yeah.” With one hand on the bar, she used her other to take Sam’s, she gazed at the blues and golds as they flourished in darkness. Taken by her hand in his, he looked down missing the next instant when the cart plunged into darkness hissing steam. He screamed and so did Mikaela. Among the erupting blaze the spectators were staring right at it but missed the turbulence of a comet in peril. However, the odd head beneath the earth jerked up through moist grass to glare upon the spectacle. “What is this?” he growled. “Attacking? Impossible. Protoform, you are off course. Abort now.” He swung his elongated head one way and another upset by a presence he had not perceived until now. “I sense Cybertronian signatures….” He looked over towards a shady tree far from his location, his optics locate a silver figure in the dark with several life forms sitting on his shoulders and knees. This mechanoid was too transfixed by the sky and the attack to notice him. That was good for now. He looked up when his receptors perceived the hissing cry of a Protoform burning through the atmosphere. His optics lit up, the mechanoid would identify what the organics could not. “Abort, enemies in company.” There was still no reply from his arrogant master. On the Serpent coaster the passengers scream and wail with glee as they are jerked one way and the other, while trying to keep their eyes fixed on the fireworks and the path they travel to better suit towards the oncoming twists and drops. “This! Is! Awesome!” wailed Sam. He felt his grip tighten in his hand, his happiness drained away. All through their ordeal Mikaela had squeezed his hand tighter and tighter, but not like this. He felt it in him that something was wrong, call it paranoia. Now annoyed by the roller coaster ride and the senseless screaming of his fellow passengers, he turned his gaze to Mikaela and saw her eyes toward the fireworks, but she wasn’t gazing at them. She saw beyond. He could see it instantly a sight he would always remember. A meteor flying towards the planet. But something was wrong with it, that was evident when he looked up and caught the last sight of it among the blossoming booms of fire. It disappeared in his view and his own eyes were blinded by the intense blaze as contact was made. He actually heard a breath of awe from the spectators on the beach. The coaster riders continued to scream happily. “It's one of them,” hollered Mikaela. “But it’s in trouble.” “Yeah,” shouted Sam over the roar and scream of ride with riders. “And so are we!” He screamed involuntarily as the cart fell into a drop. The meteor emerged from the blaze of ice fire and hurtled towards the carnival, its tail crumbling. Bumblebee watched it helplessly as it soared overhead towards the assortment of human happiness. He lowered the children from his body and lifted himself to turn and assist whatever matters called upon. Perhaps it was an ally that got lost in the blaze, there would be much to explain after the people were helped. A sound came from behind him, he twisted to block but was taken upon by a vicious creature that bit his lower back and ravaged his shoulders with claws. “Run kids!” Precautions be damned if he would waste time with encrypted messages, lives came first. The children needed no warning, they screamed and ran to their parents, others had noticed the sounds and turn to see screaming on sight of the large robot with the monster at its back. Somewhere among the wails came voices. “See, I told you!” He had no time for this, there would be people in need. He rolled over crushing the thing at his back and continued, grabbing an appendage from its body that he could reach. Its noises came of fear and rage and it continued its assault, biting his fists with bladed lips. He latched his hand to the back of its neck and wretched its mouth free, he spun around and around then released letting it fly out to the lakes center. It splashed and thrashed about but did not rise. Bumblebee waited with nervous anticipation for a counter-attack, but it never came. He backed away still not convinced until he knew no more time could be wasted and turned around. He winced at the sudden burning crash as more screams of terror came, many in pain. A few miles away aboard the roller coaster the ride wracked near out of its wheels as the comet came down in the near vicinity of its passengers. In fact, it was on target slamming in the numerous tracks a few feet before the unloading point. A wave of heat smashed into the foreword facing passengers far enough away to survive the close range impact, but most of the flames were caught within the additional cart lobby. The cart shuddered as automatic brakes lock but shatter in sheer shit luck. This time the riders scream in actual terror, these rides were meant to scare not kill. “Oh no….” Mikaela whimpered. The tracks swooped twisted out from a final drop and there in their path was the mangled passage. The cart would either jackknife and kill all onboard or fly out and plunge, killing all on board and perhaps some more. Sam grabbed her and tightened his eyes shut. “Just close your eyes.” The cart smashed into the twisted tracks and jerked, nearly wrenching into a calamity of twisted metal but the super heated frame gave way and the cart tumbled down towards the escaping people in the line, those that had not been roasted by the meteors impact. Then the crash and rumbling as the cart made contact with a very hot surface, or something very hot making contact with it. The movement came violent but with purpose, and Sam forced his eyes open when it had ceased. His head was pounding after the rattle it was given but he was not a bloody mess and nor was Mikaela beside him, she was in fact unconscious by it all. He twisted his face looked back to something hot…and saw an unmistakable hand. He looked up breathing deeply, barely anyone dared scream now. A black face of bladed metal was studying straight through him, or more correctly the vehicle he was in. Inadequate design was what it perceived, so it shoved the mechanism away and stepped over scanning everything it was in contact with. A final fuse spurt from the machine and the carnival went black, whoever wasn’t screaming was shrieking now. In pitch black night the moon was all the light the humans had, they could make out the dark form glowing with silver radiance from the rock above. Its body graced by blades and sharp edges, the design unmistakable for a Decepticon. He looked down, acute optics fixing on a stunned boy holding a plush dragon. The creature was curious, not the organic, its article. Over his travels he had studied many different forms of life, some he had adapted to his own uses. He scanned it, studied it, considered it. If he were designed by humans the word, Absurd, would have been highlighted in his own mind. But an additional word would give hope. Elaborate. In a meld of black metal coalescing over the already lethal exoskeleton, the blades merged and became solid. The man shaped robot became a large lizard of evil death blades and spikes jutting from every crook of his body, large blades upon his back served as wings to his unusual structure. “This design is superior to any of this world,” he stated in Cybertronian. During this Sam was struggling to free Mikaela and revive her. “Please, be all right. Wake up, just wake up.” After struggling with his own restraint he found it more difficult to unhinge hers, he had to take a deep breath and really give it his all. The other passengers, those that had survived the trauma and were conscious made their best efforts at escape. “Mikaela. Mikaela!” He pried her eyes open but in the dark he couldn’t tell if she had suffered a concussion or not. There were many obstacles in his way that would do best incinerated by his own plasma cannons, but he restrained himself for the moment. That was the one fact about his nature he prided himself over. There would be plenty of time to slaughter later, he had to locate his contact and share intelligence while he was undetected. From behind two guards had remained behind to open fire on the monstrous lizard with simple pistols, useless but perhaps it would distract this creature long enough for civilians to escape. The eighteen other personnel with firearms had already fled. Uninterested with the small threat currently annoying him, he turned parting his toothy jaws as the plasma cannons rerouted power through his gullet to remove the hostilities. By the time his jaws had powered enough to fire, a bright yellow figure slid in and leapt, thinking before acting would cost further lives. He caught the monsters lower jaws and pulled them down allowing powerful weapons discharge into the surface between his toes, he struggled to hold it while the energy depleted, during which the thing did not seem to mind. Once done he swung his head throwing the smaller mechanoid across the fair and against the Ferris Wheel. He emitted a sound and stomped over to where Bumblebee had fallen. Mikaela was just coming to when she felt the thundering steps and looked up, she screamed. “What the shits name is that?” “What do you think it is? It’ll kill Bumblebee, call Optimus, I’m gonna figure out a way to stop it.” He turned racing away but hadn’t noticed Mikaela stumbling after him in the loudness and the dark. The small yellow robot was barely recovering from his fall when he looked up to see the towering powerhouse before him. A sharp hand lined with claws gripped his throat and pushed him back against the twisted metal of his cradle, it made further sounds that perceived more on growling though electrical. Its optics blazed into his. The data transfer decoded by Dirge now locked in his systems took only a few seconds to engage and activate, quartered successfully, software uploaded he pursued the satellite connection easiest to access and theft the information required by his cerebral cortex. Only then did the dragon begin emitting intelligible metallic growls of native organisms among Earth, blended and remixed to sound most ferocious. In his grip Bumblebee struggled in fear, for those that would be living after he was gone in the shadow of this thing. “Been awhile, hasn’t it Autobot?” The gauntlet opened and the claws melded back into the arm as the entire body reshaped itself into a familiar form of its original design. “Do you know who I am?” Bumblebee could not believe his optics, even his internal taxonomy assemblage said it was wrong, but he knew with every ounce of himself that that alone could never change the truth. The war was not coming to an end, not here anyway. “Y-yes,” he strained. “I could…never forget you.” He slammed his victim back against the metal frame denting it further. “And yet you still assault me. That earns you…instant extermination.” He tightened his grip on the bright torso throwing the robot into pained glory. “Look into my optics when I am killing you.” A swift projectile impacted his side but had virtually no effect. Releasing his grip somewhat on the Autobot he turned his gaze towards the human that had thrown the baseball. “Hey, ass hole! Why don’t you come talk to me a bit?” “Get…away Sam, run. Please!” Bumblebee pried at the hands digging into his chest but they were almost melded in place. Sam shook his head. “Not leaving you, Bumblebee.” “Ah, emotional attachment to this terrestrial native…homosapien. Excellent. Now we can have some fun.” He noted the sway in Bumblebee’s optics in terror to what would happen. He hefted the Autobot high over his head, the fists slamming at his spiked helmet had no effect over him, heedless, defenses were raised against it. He chucked the small mechanoid across the carnival to crash through a game vendor, then whirled on the human wavering at his very looming presence and stomped over. Before Sam could break away and run the massive hand had already slammed its digits down into the dirt over his body, the tips digging deep an inescapable cage. “Amusing how one life will throw its own away in order to bring about its death, and that death of the other I had originally threatened. Had you scuttled away I would have overlooked your existence.” “Yeah?” Sam stammered. “Well, I don’t s-sit around when my f-friends are bein’ hurt. It-t’s just not my way.” He imitated a strange chuckle as his digits began prying into the thick soil to slice through his victim, the Autobot would be long too late to save him. But his sensors failed to recognize a true threat as it came crackling at his side. Once locating live wire on the fairgrounds Mikaela had fixed it to feed out and got enough slack free to deliver it to the Decepticon. It came from the cords near the Ferris Wheel and shoved them towards the large machine’s ankles slamming the frayed tips to an exposed portion of his bladed armor. She cut her arm as she pulled it back from the gap, the results were instant as he shrieked electronically and thrashed about. Sam was barely able to slip out in time before the hand clamped down and tore through the earth. He looked over at Mikaela as she came over to him. “You-you could have killed me!” She indicated the large robot as he crashed. “It was going to kill you!” Staggering towards the humans Bumblebee made a healthy attempt to avoid the quivering body of the Decepticon as he fumbled to remove the ailment. He transformed and rolled the rest of the way snapping his doors open. “No more standing around, get in!” “Not arguing,” Sam quipped as he pushed Mikaela into her seat. Looking out as the door shut he saw the effects of electronic surge of armor wear off of the bladed kill machine, it was unstable but rising still jerking from the effects. Bumblebee pushed his gas and raced out of the carnival, dodging an ambulance that streaked in. *** Parked at one of many truck stops along the main highway through illuminated Las Vegas, Optimus Prime received an emergency signal from Mikaela. He answered immediately dreading whatever it could be she would inform. “Optimus, we were just attacked by this…big robot.” Excited, weary, her blood pressure did check out lowering. “It crashed into the fair, could still be there if it’s not following us.” “Can you describe him?” “Barely. Big, silver, turned into some kind of monster.” He reflected that most Decepticons did turn into monsters, at least to humans. “Can you be more specific?” “It was Tron-Mega,” Bumblebee uttered on a separate thread. “He will be searching for Megatron or the AllSpark but he does not know both were destroyed, yet, and I aim not to be the messenger of bad news.” Tron-Mega, Optimus considered. Until this time he had not given the Decepticon a second thought, he was supposedly dead but that had only been a rumor he had hoped to be true. All along he knew otherwise. “Is he pursuing?” he asked Mikaela. She took a moment to answer, obviously checking for any signs of pursuit but it was difficult to miss a twenty-five foot thunder lizard following. “I don’t think so. I gave him a good dose of electricity but it shouldn’t have held him.” Mentally Optimus nodded to this. “At least you three are safe.” Putting a message to Bumblebee and the humans he continued. “Take Sam and Mikaela home and conceal yourself from view. He won’t be searching for any of you but if you happen to cross paths he will not dither from taking drastic actions.” He started his motor and began out from his parking space, the individual that had been driving him was just exiting the diner when he turned and rolled out of the truck stop. He ran after Optimus hollering some rubbish about his semi being stolen. “In the mean time I will return to your recent coordinates and begin a search.” Hopefully this incident would be isolated before the government got involved. He rolled onto the interstate and accelerated. *** “Tron-Mega is a mean Decepticon that takes pleasure not in killing Autobots, but killing off their comrades and leaving the ‘lone survivor’ to deal with the hardship.” Sam nodded his head and pursed his lips. “Sounds like a real psychotic Ass-hole to me.” “If he finds out about Megatron, what will he do? Retrieve the body, or try some uprising against the world?” “Could not really tell,” Bumblebee answered her, how he wished he knew. “Very little is known about his physiology preference, other than how efficient of a killer he is. On Cybertron he was originally a prison guard well known for dragging Autobots to the brink of death by frail pulses and maintaining their life force barely until all the data from their hardware was hacked, t-then extracting the-their…sparks….” He dropped into silence, only the moving road beneath his wheels and the once in a while passer car mentioned to the silence. Sam was about to speak but Mikaela put her hand on his and slowly shook her head. They continued to wait. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “You gonna be okay?” “Mm-no, yeah. I mean.” He paused. “I will be all right.” He said nothing more on the issue. This was disturbing, the very memory of Tron-Mega absorbed all of the Autobots cheeriness. For Sam, it was not his best thought of a congratulating Decepticon to thank him for his achievement over Megatron by crushing him flat. It seemed Bumblebee would not be looking forward to another confrontation with the enemy. They were entering his neighborhood finally, but he wanted to make sure Mikaela made it home safe above all. “Can I see Mikaela on her way, so if this guy does find you I can, err, draw his attention away?” She sighed and glared at him. “Very sweet Sam, but I can take care of myself, you know that. And Bumblebee would do a better job at protecting me. No sense in him finding both of us packed away.” Applause came from Bumblebee’s radio. “She is right. Besides, I am not returning to your home. I will hide between your locations so if one of you needs me I will not have far to drive. You have my speed dial, contact me if anything looks suspicious.” “Something wrong?” Sam asked. Mikaela wiped her face and looked at him expressing a smile. “I thought this was over pretty much, Megatron dead and the other Decepticons awol. I just wanted a nice time at the fair.” Bumblebee’s radio sympathized with her, singing: “I’m sorry…come back to me….” Unsure how to compete with his car, Sam looped an arm over her shoulder. He didn’t need to drive so could focus on her amending her grief. “Well, at least we saw some of the fireworks.” That wasn’t the best thing to say, but really what should he? There was nothing on alien robot invasion to Teen Guide Dating Tips. “We’re alive and that’s what matters.” Mikaela put her arms around his chest and hugged him back, she looked at the poor attempt at dressing on her sliced arm, it was not too deep but bled quite a bit, but most of it had stopped after Sam ripped his shirt and wrapped her arm. “For how long, I wonder?” With better understanding than his human friends Bumblebee kept much of his words to himself, he had never been big on talk even after the AllSpark had healed his vocal symbology, at least he now had the option of alternative speech available to him. *** The single father that provided for his family of four struck the cheap plaster wall, his back snapping the under brace buckling to the force. He slammed to his rump holding a bleeding gash in his arm where blood spurted free and the purple muscles beneath shown. Two of his youngest sons came to his aid grabbing him and helping the man deep in shock roll away from the large mechanical creature. He spoke Taiwan begging the creature not to hurt his family, not to kill him. “I’m sorry, forgive me! Forgive me, please! If it pleases you then take, take everything and my life, but spare my children! Spare my children at least! Spare them! Spare them!” He sobbed. No longer focused on the man the strange machine turned to a cheap computer stationed in the small living room makeshift kitchen. The optics imbedded at the long snouts rear focused on the screen that was off color but useable, he moved and sat at the small rickety chair allowing a portion of its armor to bend from the rear side, more like a tail than anything. It ripped open the towers top, the man and his family screaming at the sight of loss value. He reached in, gauntlet tearing open and wires connecting to the guts of the computer. It had no Internet access, but he did, his other hand tapped at the keyboard, some missing keys. Once the ancient computer had tapped into his software he uploaded browser details that hastened the normal download time. Images flashed as it scanned, searching everything of Earth culture, history, facts, data, anything. The third son came to aid his fathers wound, he was still pleading with the death creature. He stopped on eyewitness reports of alien machines landing on Earth, comets from the sky landing in baseball stadiums, property values, exchange of liquid assets. “Much information,” he snarled, “none useful.” Numerous fan sites had information on the aliens ‘among us’ but nothing he wanted. There were articles with detailing true confessions of people accepting bribes or being threatened not to say a word of what occurred in Mission city, something on Mountain Dew ‘Beast of Terror” and various many pictures of different vehicles revealing more beneath the hood than just an engine. “Government cover up of alien bodies,” reflected the voice of Tron-Mega. “Wherever could he be?” “Information not listed. Autobots know. Captive information withheld with higher offices of jurisdiction. This is slag.” He removed his tangles from the computer and rose, turning away. “Send out a message. Summon Megatron to me, threaten him if you must, but I want his presence to my knowing.” “Other Decepticons? What of they?” He had already snapped his connections into the tower, one simple touch and it was done. Among the trees of a high hill overlooking a portion of Tranquillity and the carnage of Tranquil Fair, Tron-Mega hunched down watching and learning. “Unimportant. If it be then Starscream will give me the most trouble, but even I can deal with him.” He turned hiking down the slope rustling among the trees concealing his form. Authors Note/: Hope you readers enjoyed this first part, this will be the first fanfic I wrote specifically for a sight Hhr...Tron-Mega and Earth Quake are my char's, unless there really is a character named Tron-Mega which is possible. I think there is one called Earth Quake though, or something close. And the Constructicons I'm thinking of making as a sub faction of Decepticon's, but the main group, the primary commanders of the populace and gestalt formers would have been Scrapper, Longhual, Scavenger, Hook, Mixmaster, and...Bonecrusher - or he was until these five betrayed Megatron and went with Tron-Mega. But I'm not sure if I would continue this idea, half way through the story I hint at the possibility and have added two extra Constructicons, but they cannot combine. Bummer.