Transformers Warzone

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by Phoenix Prime, May 31, 2007.

  1. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    So I started this forever ago, but have not updated in a long time and cannot find my previous thread for it, so I will start over.

    Author’s note: This fan fic is a What If. When the Volcano reactivated Teletran in 1985, the Decepticons were the first to be activated, and when they left, it was Starscream’s foolish act of violence that reactivated the Autobots. What if Megatron shut down Teletran One before leaving? Or Starscream didn’t blast the Ark before leaving… what then? This story takes place five years later. The Decepticons have been successful in not only bringing Cybertron into Earth’s orbit, but also destroying the Earth’s Moon so that Cybertron can safely orbit Earth with only minor geometric anomalies. Earth is in the mist of a full out Decepticon Occupation. Enslavement camps force human workers to create Energon Cubes from natural resources like oil, lightning, hydro, solar and more. With many Autobots having fled Cybertron, or hiding within the depths of their home world, and the Decepticons preparing an all out Universal conquest; can Earth’s Resistance Army find the key to defeating to the Decepticons, or is the human race defeated, along with the rest of the Universe? Also expect appearances from characters in G.I. Joe.

    Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole

    “Give me a hand Spike!” I hear my dad call, “We gotta raise this bit, flush it out!”

    Dad was standing there with another guy, Joe something.

    “Right dad, I’ll get the bailer!” I called back, running for the bailer, I never made it that far.

    “DIVE! DIVE!” I hear a cry from the sky. I look up and freeze. Metal giants filled the skies, most anywhere from two to three stories tall.

    “Look up there!” my father calls out, “What is it?”

    “What are they?” I cry, breaking my frozen stance.

    I watch two land, one is silver with a huge metal cannon on his arm, and the other is red and gray.

    “Everybody! Come on!” Joe shouts, throwing his wrench at the pair. More join in, throwing other tools and pipes, each bounce off like toilet paper.

    The silver giant lifts one of the support pipes like a stick, and drops it in the direction of the attacking oilrig workers. The pipe rolls at them, knocking the group off the rig.

    A smaller blue robot lands beside us; and when I say smaller, I only mean compared to the other robots, in reality it was still a bit taller then dad or I; without a word, it heads for the control house, dad stands in his way, trying to stop it, and it grabs him up, choking dad against the control room’s wall.

    “Get off my dad!” I shout, trying to pull it off my dad.

    With a flick of its wrist, it sends me flying off the rig into the water below.

    “SPIKE!!!” I hear before hitting the waves, forcing myself back to the surface in time to see dad diving to my rescue.

    “You ok son?” he asks as he surfaces.

    “Yeah dad, but what is going on?”

    “I don’t know, but it looks like those things are attempting to steal the oil.”

    We swam for the dock like quite a few others, swimming out to help others who couldn’t make it. A few guys wanting to climb the ladder back up to the rig to try and stop the giants, but dad stopped them from doing it, saying it was too risky. We sat there for what seemed like hours, waiting for the giants to finish their piracy, hoping we’d be save after the fact.

    “Thundercracker!” I hear the silver one command as the giants take off again, “We have what we came for, destroy this facility.”

    “As you command Mighty Megatron!” a blue giant replies, looking a lot like the red one, “so long Earth germs!”

    The blue one spots us, smiling psychotically, the weapons attached to his arms pointing down on us, releasing waves of blue flames upon us. Dad pushes me off the dock with a few others who responded fast enough. I wait for him under the water, watching the light from above. By the time I resurface, the blue giant is gone, the rig is engulfed in flames, and there are charred corpses littering the dock.

    “Dad! Dad!” I shout, looking around in the water for him, hoping he made it.

    “Spike!” Joe calls at me, swimming over, “Your dad was up there when the flames hit.”

    He hands me a charred hard hat, the name Witwicky sketch across it.

    “What happened next Spike?” Edwin Steen asks, looking across at the troubled Arthur Witwicky.

    “There were three of us still there,” Spike responds, examining the modified Decepticon Blaster he held, something he stole from a Decepticon Cassette named Rumble, “we swam for the other dock on the far side of the rig as it burned, the Decepticons having left with their haul of Energon Cubes. Once we reached the dock, we found a single life raft that hadn’t been destroyed, boarded it, and started the slow journey back to shore.”

    “Arthur I understand that you were one of the first victims of the Decepticons when they begun their conquest of Earth and her resources,” Edwin bent over close, placing his hand over the gun, getting Spike to make eye contact, “but United Earth Resistance Army needs level headed soldiers in the field. The ‘skirmish’ you had with Hector Delgado that provoked Sergeant Hauser to order this psychiatric evaluation could very well not only take you off active duty, but throw you in the brig as well.”

    “I told you before Steen, call me Spike, Arthur was my father; and as for what happened with Shipwreck, he was asking for my foot in his mouth. If anyone should be in trouble, it is that loud mouthed sailor, not me!”

    “What did he say?”

    Spike looked over at Edwin Steen, the man’s eyes show his care for the young soldier is genuine.

    “My last field mission, we were trying to evac a group of refugees in Brazil when the Decepticons attacked. I was trying to cover one group of refugees when another group was incinerated by that blue Decepticon that killed my father. We were being debriefed by Sergeant Hauser when Delgado opened his mouth about it, saying I couldn’t protect those people, like I couldn’t save my dad.”

    “And that is when you punched Delgado?”

    “I grabbed him, pushed him against a wall and told him to shut his trap. He threw the first actually punch, I just returned it.”

    “Spike, since you joined the U.E.R.A. a few years ago, you have had an almost perfect mission success record. Even the mission in Brazil you brought up, was considered successful overall. We can ill afford to take a man off active duty, but on the same account cannot have someone with such a short temper. You understand this correct?”

    “Yes sir.”

    “Good. My recommendation will be to put you on temporary probation. Any more ‘incidents’ however, could have serious consequences.”

    “Are we done here?”

    “Yes, yes we are Spike. Try to relax, have some down time with your brother, you need it.”


    Without another word, Spike leaves rushing down the corridor of the U.E.R.A underground base of operations, heading for the barracks.

    “Spike!” comes a voice from behind him, “Hold up a minute!”

    Spike turns to find Sgt Faireborn running up.

    “Sir!” Spike salutes.

    Faireborn laughs, “Told you before Spike, you only salute Officers, and with this bunch of misfits, we rarely even do that.”

    “Sorry sir,” Spike states, “What can I do for you?”

    “The General has another mission lined up for us. You are still active right?”

    “Yeah, I haven’t been thrown in the brig yet.”

    “Good, we meet at 1100 hours. Be down in the hangar bay alright?”

    Checking his watch, Spike notes the time, 0930, giving him about an hour and a half.

    “Yes sir.”

    Spike continues on his way to the barracks, passing other soldiers on his way, paying them no never mind. When he finally arrives, is shocked to only find his brother there waiting for him.

    “Spike!” the boy shouts, running over.

    The barracks the two were assigned too, is a large hangar like room, holding 100 beds and a 100 lockers. Not much room for privacy, and is rarely this empty.

    “Hey Robert, how are you?” Spike asks, hugging his little brother.

    “Hey! If you can make everyone call you Spike, you can at least call me Buster!”

    Buster plays at hitting his brother in the stomach.

    “How’d it go with Steen?”

    “Edwin?” Spike asks, “How’d you know about that already?”

    “It is all the base can talk about, you decking Delgado and misplacing his jaw!”

    “I gave him a black eye.”

    “Ah whatever. What he do this time? Open his robot sized mouth again?”

    “Something like that. Steen is having me put on probation. He is a good guy and all, even if he is a pacifist, even in the face of the ‘Cons.”

    “Speaking of which, Faireborn was in here looking for you. Saying it was important,” Buster speaks up.

    “I ran into him on the way here a few minutes ago. A mission, I need to be at the briefing at 11.”

    “Can I come?!”

    “You aren’t even old enough to drive Buster, what makes you think I am taking you on a mission?”

    “Aw shucks.”

    “Deal with it. Hinton actually wants you helping him in the kitchen today; I’ll take you to the mess before heading off.”

    “Marvin?! Oh please bro!!! Don’t make me go!” Buster whines.

    “Hinton is a great guy, and he loves it when you help him.”

    “He is a great guy, but the dude rhymes everything. He hurts my head!”

    “Deal with it, let’s go.”

    With his head slumped over, Buster follows his brother out the barracks, and down the corridor, following the big signs on the walls, Mess this way, feel free to stay! Something Marvin Hinton came up with.

    “Spike and Buster, come over to me; I got vegetables for as far as the eye can see!” Hinton yells as the two walk in.

    “Real vegetables Hinton?” Spike gawks, “Where did you get them?”

    “All those refugees you stopped from being ‘Con slaves; gave them to us, as thank for the save! We are going to have a feast tonight; set all our bellies in the right!”

    “Figures,” Spike whines, “I am about to head off on a mission, meaning I won’t be able to enjoy it.”

    Hinton throws him a carrot, “Now stop your bitching, stop your whining; and never say old Marvin never gave ya nothing.”

    “Thanks!” Spike yells back, stuffing the carrot in his mouth, then mumbling something about Buster behaving while he is gone, a mouth full of carrot making it difficult.

    “Yeah yeah,” Buster responds as Spike heads off, “be careful.”

    As Spike heads off, his thoughts return to what has happened in the last few years. The Decepticons’ rise to power, taking over most of the world, destroying governments and enslaving the masses. The Decepticons bringing their home world of Cybertron to Earth’s orbit, using it to replace the moon itself. The raping of his world for its natural resources. It can sometimes be too much to bear, especially with his father being the first casualty of this war.

    Spike walks into the large hangar bay, several aircrafts across the deck, but chairs lay out near him, most of his unit already there. Unlike most units of the U.E.R.A., his was all made up of former G.I. Joe members until he was assigned to it. G.I. Joe before the war was a special United States armed forces group assembled to deal with a terrorist organization known as Cobra. When the Decepticons first attacked, even G.I. Joe sizable power, added to by Cobra’s who had signed a peace treaty with the Joes when the ‘Cons first attack, were no match. That was about 5 years ago. Since then, the world’s remaining armies united to form the U.E.R.A. under the leadership of General Clayton Abernathy, who had once been the Joes’ Commanding Officer. There were many other Joes in the U.E.R.A., even former members of Cobra, but the highest percentage was in Spike’s unit, which was just fine by him.

    “Everyone please have a seat,” General Abernathy calls from a podium in the middle of the hangar, about 20 feet or so from the chairs.

    This was only about the third time Spike had actually seen the General, seeing as how the General was usually at the main base of operations in London. Standing behind the General was a tall man, wearing a large metal mask. The mere sight of him made most people’s stomach turn, Spike was no exception. His name was James McCullen, but the human world knew him better as Destro, an international arms dealer, and until the war began, a ranking Cobra Officer. Standing beside him, a dark haired European woman named Anastasia DeCobray, the Baroness. Another former Cobra officer, and the only to still wear the snake symbol of Cobra on her leather jump suit; and on the far end of the podium, a boy about Spike’s age and wheel chaired bound, Chip Chase, the Hacker. Chip was a friend of Spike’s from before the war, and his computer hacking skills gave the U.E.R.A. about 90% of its Intel on the Decepticons. Everything from base locations, to troop rosters, weapon systems, and more was there for Chip to grab at his leisure.

    Spike sat in the front row, between his units Communications man Jack Morelli and their covert specialist Allison Burnett. The rest of the unit fell in place, 15 total, all attention to the podium.

    “Alright ladies and gentlemen, please have a seat and quiet down, I have a mission of the utmost importance for you,” General Abernathy calls over the P.A. system.

    A large 3D hologram appears before them. An image of a volcano, with the rear of a large ship sticking out the side, and a massive fortified barrier around it.

    “This is the Decepticon Insulation at Mt Saint Helens, with what we can only assume is one of the first Decepticon Space Vessels to reach Earth, embedded into the Volcano side itself. What makes this Insulation of particular interest to us is our Intel gathered on it. The ship appears to be too embedded into the volcano to ever be successfully removed, generates zero power and the only traffic in and out of the ship itself, appears to be the Decepticon Commander Megatron himself, very non-routinely. The barrier around the volcano is heavily powered and armed to the teeth with quite a few troops stationed to guard it. Intel on the ship is incomplete, but suggest the ‘Cons are guarding something within it; we need to find out what and find out if we can use against them.”

    David Lewinski raises his hand, “What do we figure is out P.O.E?” (Point of entry) “It doesn’t look to be the most accessible place we have ever encountered.”

    “I am glad you asked Lewinski,” Abernathy smiles, “to answer that question, our weapons and technology consultant for this mission, James McCullen.”

    As McCullen approaches the front of the podium, the silence in the air seems to almost thicken around them, the former G.I. Joes, looking up into the masked face of their former enemy.

    “Thanks to different raids on Decepticon outposts and on their computer systems, we have managed to devise new weapons and vehicles that will help in our war against those tin plated tyrants…”

    “As if he should talk about tin plated tyrants,” whispers Wayne Sneeden from behind Spike.

    “Let the man speak Sneeden,” Faireborn shot back under his breathe.

    “…. Working with the finest minds we have at our disposal, including myself, Mr. Chase here, and several other scientists at our various bases around the globe, we present, Skye Havoc 2.0.”

    McCullen makes arm movements as if something had appeared before him, but nothing happens. The unit all begins to laugh, except two. Shana O’Hara and her partner, the silent ninja only known as Snake Eyes, both eye the area McCullen had gestured towards with curiosity.

    “Well I’ll be, the man in da’ iron mask has finally lost his marbles,” Ronald Tadur cries out from the front row, on the other side of Alison Burnett from Spike.

    “Then I have a volunteer to help me demonstrate the new Havoc,” McCullen smiles, “Please Corp. Tadur, approach the podium.”

    “Sir?” Tadur stares at Faireborn, as if hoping to have him say otherwise.

    “You heard the man Ron,” Faireborn replies, “step up.”

    Nervously, Tadur stands up, and walks slowly to the podium, eyes darting back and forth from McCullen and Abernathy. Five feet into his journey, Tadur hits solid air and is flung backwards unto the ground.

    “I hit some’in!” Tadur shouts, rubbing his nose.

    “Can’t see the big rig in front of you Ron?!” Shana laughs, getting up and walking over. She runs her hand along the spot Tadur hit, marveling.

    “It is perfect isn’t it?” McCullen asks, his mask forming around his devilish grin.

    “It is almost perfect,” Shana informs him, climbing something, and finally standing on what seems like thin air, “but Snake Eyes and I still saw it.”

    “But the point is young woman, the Decepticons can’t see it!” McCullen’s outrage obvious, “We used their own technology to perfect this vehicle.

    As if on cue, lasers dart around the area beneath Shana, forming a large box, allowing a large, chrome covered ground vehicle to slowly appear. Loaded with several missiles pointing behind it, two large cannons, connected to a moving chair, and two guns sticking out of its front where you would expect headlights to be on a van, right below a large, two person cockpit covered in thick glass.

    The unit, now with its view of the podium obscured, runs around it, each taking his or her chance to touch the once unseen weapon.

    “What is this thing?” Lamont Morris asks.

    “The design was going to be used on a G.I. Joe vehicle,” Abernathy admits, “but the war began before we could create a prototype. When we acquired the Decepticon cloaking technology, we added it to its plans, along with several other vehicles, and have a grouping of vehicles to be used with this assignment.”

    “What vehicles?” Mac Arthur Ito asks.

    Again, as if on cue, several other vehicles appear in the same fashion on either side of the podium, on one side, a large delta winged aircraft, with its cockpit opening from underneath to allow pilots to enter instead of the canopy opening atop. On the other, two smaller aircrafts; one is delta winged as well, but only a little longer then the typical car, equipped with both aerial afterburners, and high speed, underwater engines; the other sits on helicopter like landing gears, each carrying large missiles, but has short wings, ending with large vertical panels protecting VTOL engines on either side, a single person cockpit with altered heavy machine gun barrels. All in the same chrome as the Havoc.

    “The old Sky Hawk and Sharc vehicles from our G.I. Joe days!” Ettienne La Fitte notes about the smaller aircrafts, “haven’t seen either of these in a dogs age. Like the new paint jobs.”

    “I had seen designs for a stealth aircraft like this,” Thomas Arashikage remarks about the larger aircraft, “Your’s?” he asks McCullen.

    “Indeed Thomas,” McCullen smiles, “Something Cobra would have used if not for the Decepticons. The Skye Raven.”

    “The plan is simple, several Skye Raven’s will distract the Decepticons long enough for a small team of Skye Hawks to escort Chip Chase into the base while the rest of the unit, in Skye Havocs wait on the sidelines as back up. Any Questions?” the General explains.

    “How are the Hawks getting into the base? While they maybe cloaked, surely the ‘Cons will see us getting out of them in front of the ship,” Spike speaks up.

    “Down the center of the volcano of course,” the General says matter of factly.

    A look of disbelief illuminates the unit.

    Spike sits in the cockpit of the Skye Hawk, flying in a standard V formation, though if it weren’t for the sensors indicators within the Hawk, he’d never be able to see the other four. Each fly cloaked, Alison Burnett in the lead, Chip Chase behind her on the left, Blaine Parker behind her on her right, Spike behind Chip, and Shana O’Hara behind Parker.

    “Alright soldiers, game time,” Burnett calls out over the com; “Faireborn and the three Ravens have just started their run on the Decepticon Insulation. Five fighters have just lifted off from the Insulation in pursuit. Sensor readings indicate only three ‘Cons have been left behind.”

    “What about the automated defenses?” Parker asks.

    “The Ravens, under cloak were able to get in without being noticed, we should be fine.”

    “Are we going to use the codenames?” Chase asks, the giddiness in his voice overwhelming even over a radio.

    “Yes Hacker,” Burnett replies, “As of now, codenames are activated, sound off. Lady Jaye in command.”

    “Hacker here,” Chase squeals.

    “Mainframe present and accounted for,” Parker states.

    “Spike here.”

    “Scarlett here Lady Jaye.”

    “Alright kiddies, let’s do something crazy! Spike, you’re down the rabbit hole first.”

    “Rodger Lady Jaye, I will radio when I have landed and the coast is clear.”

    Spike zooms down towards the top of the volcano. Once over the crater, he slows the Hawk, and activates the vertical engines. He can hear the click as the twin thrusters move into place, and slowly, carefully, he begins his decent, taking note of any obstacles the others should know about. He lands softly atop a wing of the ship, off the wings edge, he notes a magma pool, causing smoke to rise, while in the other direction, where the rest of the vessel should be, is rock and long since cooled magma hiding the vessel.

    “Lady Jaye, this is Spike, come in Lady Jaye,” Spike calls into his comm.

    “This is Lady Jaye, go ahead Spike.”

    “Sensors indicate the coast is clear, no Decepticon energy signatures anywhere within the volcano, I am going to deactivate my cloak now before you begin your descent.”

    “Rodger that big Spike, waiting your all clear.”

    Spike deactivates his cloak; the energy cube appears around him, allowing the Hawk to reappear. Once the task is finished, he waits a moment, expecting an attack. When that attack never comes, he opens his canopy, sending an all clear to the others.

    One by one, Skye Hawks appear around Spike as he checks over his blaster and his comrades exit their vehicles, him and Mainframe helping Hacker out and into his wheelchair.

    “No offense Hacker,” Mainframe starts, looking over Hacker, “but how much sense does it have to even have you on this mission? You aren’t exactly mobile.”

    “Other then the fact I can out hack you any day of the week Mainframe?” Hacker smiles, moving the control stick on the armrest of the wheel chair, the wheels fold off to the sides, becoming hover engines. Hacker begins circling Mainframe, “Something new I came up with, what do you think?”

    “Spectacular, I take it all back now.”

    “If we are done kissing each other now,” Spike groans, finding an access board on the ships haul, “maybe we can get some work done.”

    “What did you find Spike?” Lady Jaye asks, kneeling beside him.

    “Some sort of oversized keypad, perfect for Decepticon fingers, but I don’t recognize this symbol across the top,” Spike points to a red face just above the first key.

    “Intriguing,” Hacker interrupt, bending over, “It reminds me a little of the purple symbol on all the Decepticons the first time I saw this thing.”

    “You’ve seen it before Hacker?” Lady Jaye asks, “Where?”

    “When I got the Intel on this place, and was working on decoding it, this symbol came up several times, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant. I think it might mean danger, or hated, but it was very unclear.”

    “Danger?” Spike grins, “I love the sound of that!”

    “Can you get us inside Hacker?” Lady Jaye asks.

    “That part is easy,” Hacker smiles, taking the end of his rifle and dialing a nine digit code, “I already retrieve that part of info from the system I hacked. It is Megatron’s own passcode.”

    A panel slides open, a dry, stale smell coming from within.

    “It smells like a tomb down there,” Spike notes, shining his flashlight down the opening, seeing that it opens into a large room. Computers and equipment pressed against the walls.

    “Amazing isn’t it?” Hacker smiles, “This room is larger then any Decepticon, I would dare say this is some sort of hangar bay within the ship, or even escape pod room. Incredible!”

    “Um,” Mainframe questions, “Why would they have something like this? Can’t the ‘Cons fly and stuff?”

    “They can fly, but may not be able to journey long distances without a ship, hence why they would have vessels like this to begin with,” Hacker explains, “Think of it all like we think of cars. Ground vehicles we don’t need because we walk, but need for long distances.”

    “If you say so, but the ‘Cons are a whole different story.”

    “Come on guys,” Scarlett interrupts, fastening a rope around a stag mite, “Let’s see how far down the Rabbit Hole goes.”

    One by one, the group takes the rope down, except of course Hacker who floats down the hole, regrouping in the middle of the Hangar Bay.

    “Wow,” Spike gasps, running a hand along the rock inside the ship, “all of this sentiment rock within the ship… this thing has to have been here for millions of years, just sitting here.”

    “If the Decepticons have been here for millions of years, why have we only known about them for 5?” Scarlett asks.

    “Maybe this was some sort of exploration vessel that crashed here and was lost to the Decepticons,” Hacker theorizes, “and they just found it before their occupation of Earth.”

    “Possible, would explain a few things, but make a whole new set of questions,” Scarlett states.

    “Questions?” Spike asks, “Like what?”

    “Like what could’ve happened to crash a mammoth ship like this?”

    “Maybe we can figure that out by looking through this puzzle,” Lady Jaye states, “Let’s go people, we ain’t getting paid by the hour. Mainframe, get the door.”

    Walking over to the large doorway tucked away in a corner, and attempting to access the door’s controls, “This is crazy man,” Mainframe complains, zipping his flashlight around, “we aren’t even trying to be cautious with this, we are going in here blind. What if there are traps, or gua…Argh!!!”

    The others draw there guns at the entrance way as a large metal body, which was sitting on the other end of the door, falls, barely missing Mainframe.

    Lifeless eyes stare at Mainframe, cold, dark and hollow.

    Laughing, Spike helps Mainframe to his feet, “This little guy is offline Mainframe, pull yourself together.

    The body is about 12 feet long, small for most Decepticons, but still a giant compared to the group of humans. Red in coloring with black arms and legs, and horns atop its helmet. Hacker hovers above the body, leaning over to get a better look.

    “Look at this Lady Jaye,” Hacker calls out, pointing to its chest.

    “What is it?” Lady Jaye responds, the group gathering around.

    “It is obscured by that hole in his chest, but there is that red symbol again, staring up at us.”

    Spike runs his hand along the hole, “Scorch marks.”

    “What?” Mainframe responds.

    “Scorch marks, like you’d fine left by a Decepticon armament. This guy was shot down.”

    “Shot? Some sort of fight perhaps aboard the ship?” Scarlett suggests.

    “Maybe a mutiny of some sort. A group tried to take over the ship and it crashed during the mayhem,” Mainframe interjects.

    “Come on people, let’s see what else we can find,” Lady Jaye orders, jumping down off the body and into the hallway.

    The group quickly follows her, once again assuming a V formation as flashlights hit the wall and ceiling. More evidence of a struggle, and other bodies lying around, discarded warriors from a battle long since forgotten.

    “Does anyone notice something different about this place?” Spike finally asks, and he and Mainframe attempt to force a door open.

    “What do you mean Spike?” Mainframe asks, kicking the unmoving door.

    “Some of the wounds on these guys look like they were from hand to hand weapons, or from merely being punched, but those bodies aren’t anywhere near each other. Not to mention, not a one of them have the purple face, they all have just this weird red one.”

    “So maybe they got those wounds in a different brawl, and then were shot or something,” Mainframe suggests, “who cares, let’s just get this door open so we can continue. We have no idea when Megatron will come waltzing in here.”

    Spike examines the arm of a large green robot, several button are exposed, the cover having been ripped off years ago.

    “I wonder,” Spike notes a symbol on the arm, matching the door itself. Small, red, but squared with a tiny triangle cut from the top. Slowly he reaches out, and presses the button. The door flies open, its age not showing.

    “What did you do?” Lady Jaye panics, covering the button from being pushed again.

    “The symbol is on the door, and every other door as the enter key, or activate key,” Spike responds, “Made sense that it would work.”

    “How’d you know it wouldn’t activate that sleeping Decepticon?” Mainframe gasps, his rifle pointed at its head.

    “Right here,” Spike points at the button, “it didn’t have any dust on it, unlike the rest of the pad, making it likely, it has been used quite often, lately.”

    “Megatron must use it to open this door when he comes,” Hacker states, “Like it was some sort of activation button, but why wouldn’t Megatron have such a button built into himself?”

    “He doesn’t belong here, or wasn’t meant to be here,” Scarlett says, walking through the now open door.

    The five find themselves within the ships bridge. The single most count of robotic bodies lie here, in pieces, thrown about the room. Blast holes make the walls and front monitors resemble swiss cheese, and centuries old rock, bleed from openings in the hull. Ancient controls and computers lie as dead as the ships crew, except one. The largest computer, along the opposite wall, seems active, a scanning laser flickering on and off from it, only hitting a single bare spot on the floor.
  2. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 2: Friends in Need

    The Decepticon City of Darkmount is more of a fortress then a city. Expanding now over a 16th of the planet since Cybertron came into Earth’s orbit, it is the crowning achievement of the Decepticon Leader, Megatron; but while allies and enemies alike marvel over the size and power of the city, and the Decepticon armies, Megatron spends most of his time, trying to unlock his all-but vanquished enemies most sacred artifact, the Autobot Matrix.

    Deep within his throne room, the silver colored Decepticon Leader eyes the small device in his hand that he had ripped out of the chest of his most hated adversary, Optimus Prime.

    “Why do you keep your secrets from me even now?” he asks it, “Prime is dead, the Autobots almost extinct, but you still elude me… How?”

    The doors to Megatron’s throne room slide open, giving passage to the Decepticon Soundwave.
    “Soundwave,” Megatron calls, “Report!”

    “Starscream has reported from Earth that a group of human aircrafts has eluded pursuit.” Soundwave reports, his mono-toned voice unwavering.

    “Eluded pursuit? How?”

    “Reports indicate the human have developed a cloaking technology making all forms of sensory devices useless.”

    “So they are finally becoming worth our notice,” Megatron smiles, letting the Matrix fall, it swings back and forth on the chain around Megatron’s neck, “Where were these aircrafts spotted?”

    “In the same section containing the remains of the Ark.”

    “WHAT?!” Megatron screams, “Is Starscream sure? How close were they?”

    “Report came from pursuing Seekers Dirge, Thrust, Ramjet, Neon and Ghost who are stationed at Ark Security Grid.”

    Megatron sits back, stroking his chin, “Activate Ravage. Have him search the area for the humans, and destroy them!”

    “Ravage eject…” Soundwave commands, pressing the button atop his chest, opening his chest mounted panel and releasing a large cassette that quickly transforms into a robot jaguar, “operation, search and destroy.”

    Ravage growls back in agreement to his orders before running out the door, passing Shockwave, the large purple Decepticon general, as he comes in.

    “Ah Shockwave, do tell me you have some positive news,” Megatron glares at the single optic mechanoid.

    “I am afraid I do not Megatron,” Shockwave replies, “Our attempts to locate the remaining Cybertron based Autobots has thus far brought no results. It would appear they are using the ancient, and uncharted underground tunnels.”

    “As long as even one Autobot exists, they pose a threat to us,” Megatron explains, “and I do not need threats to my empire! Find them! Bring me the one I require, and destroy the rest! Do you understand me Shockwave?”

    “Perfectly. Your will be done.”

    As the two Decepticon Officers make their exit, all are unaware of another set of optics whom have been watching everything from the safety of the air duct system.

    “The Ark? On Earth?” the tiny black robot thinks, “I have to inform the others immediately!”

    The robot charges down the duct, expertly dodging security devices like they weren’t even there.

    “Whereintheworldishe?” the blue robot asks himself, pacing back and forth in the sewer systems of Darkmount, talking at such high speeds it is difficult to understand him, “theDecepticonsaregoingtofindmedownhereIknowitknowitknow!!!”

    “Got you Autobot scum!” a voice shouts from the shadows, “Move and you’re slag!!!”


    “Relax Blurr!” the tiny black robot laughs, “It’s just me.”

    “Ejectthatisn’tfunnyatall! Notintheleastnotintheleast!!!” Blurr responds, flailing his arms in the air.

    “Calm down Blurr or you will get us caught. I just got information Magnus and the others will find very interesting. Transform get us home to Iacon II,” Eject informs.

    “Alright!” Blurr responds, transforming into a sleek car like hovercraft, “butanymoregameslikethatandI’mjustgoingtorunyoudown!!!”

    Eject laughs, transforming into a small cassette and landing in Blurr’s interior, “Just drive.”

    “Sowhatisthebignewsalready?!” Blurr asks as they run through one set of underground tunnels to another.

    “News that could change the course of this war.

    “The Ark is where Eject?!” Ultra Magnus shouts from the center of his war room.
    The assembled Autobots all stare at the tiny black mech standing atop the center console of the room.

    “The Ark is on Earth somewhere, the planet’s natives were spotted near it. I am sure if we can hack the Decep’s patrol logs, we can back track to where the Ark’s remains are!” Eject cheers.

    “Yeah, but the Decepticons will more then likely have the Ark heavily guarded,” Kup speculates, “which means we need a sizable force to take it back; which we don’t currently have on Cybertron.”

    “Who cares about that,” Hot Rod interjects, “We have guys down in the Ark, Optimus is down there! We gotta go bail them out!”

    “Hold on Hot Rod,” Eject interjects, “Megatron also mentioned Prime is dead and more then likely so are the others of his crew.”

    The mood in the control room becomes as silent as morgue, a look of horror stricken about the faces of the assembled Autobots.

    “He is what?” Springer breaks the silence.

    “Dead, that is what Megatron said.”

    “Then we go about business as usually,” Ultra Magnus finally orders, “Eventually we might be able to go down to retrieve the data discs from Teletran One, but for now, nothing has changed.”

    “If that were true,” Hot Rod shouts, “Then why would Megatron even care about the Earthlings being in that area, or have all that artillery down there guarding the Ark! We have to go down there, we have to!”

    “I will not risk any of you on a fool’s errand Hot Rod;” Magnus shouts back, “Prime was my leader too! He was my friend from before this war began! If I thought there was a chance he was still functional, I would personally lead the rescue party now, but since the evidence points to Prime being no more, we can’t! We are a nano-second from losing this war, if we act brash, and foolish we’re done!”

    “To the Pit with you,” Hot Rod whispers at Ultra Magnus, before storming off.

    “Want me to go after him Ultra Magnus?” Steeljaw asks, jumping up next to Eject on the center console.

    “Both of you go after him; make sure he doesn’t do anything brash.”
    The yellow lion like Steeljaw, and the black Eject jump down off the console and chase after Hot Rod.

    “Prime is alive,” Hot Rod whispers to himself, grabbing ammo for himself from the armory, “something within my Spark is telling me you and the others are alive.”

    “We know what you mean,” Eject states as him and Steeljaw walk in, “We can feel Blaster is down there, we know he is.”

    “So does that mean you are coming with me? Or are you two here to stop me from going?”

    “We’re coming with you Hot Rod.”

    “Good. We will still need additional support. Steeljaw, go, find Elita’s team. Let them know of the situation, and tell her to meet us under the Decepticon spaceport. We have friends to find.”

    Without responding, Steeljaw darts away, moving faster then the optic can see.

    “What are we doing Hot Rod?” Eject ask, looking up at him.

    “We need to return to Darkmount, and do your suggestion about using the ‘cons own systems to find out where the Ark is.”

    Hot Rod transforms into his car-like speedster mode, opening his canopy to let Eject transform and land in his dashboard, and they drive away.

    “Magnus wanted us to stop you you know?” Eject admits.

    “Don’t doubt it,” Hot Rod replies, “but I am through sitting around, waiting to be blasted by a Decepticon Termination squad. If Optimus and the others are down there, it might be enough, maybe.”

    “Since when did you get so passionate about things?”

    “Maybe when this is all over,” Hot Rod sighs, “I will be able to explain that to you, and myself.”

    “Elita!” Steeljaw shouts, bursting through the female Autobot’s base on the far side of the planet.

    “Most mechs have the courtesy to knock first Steeljaw,” Elita-One smiles walking up to the smaller mech, “What is going on? Why has Magnus sent you here?”

    “Magnus hasn’t sent me, Hot Rod has.”

    “Hot Rod sent you? Didn’t realize he that kind of authority.”

    “He doesn’t Elita,” Steeljaw states matter of factly, “he and Eject and I have gone against Magnus’s orders, he awaits us at the Decepticon Spaceport.”

    “You’ve gone against orders, and you are telling me your plans? Why?”

    “The Ark, Optimus, they’re all on Earth.”

    Elita’s optics glow bright, “Earth? You’re sure about this?”

    “The claim is that Megatron deactivated the crew, but Hot Rod is sure Optimus still functions, as do Eject and I. We are asking for you to assign a raiding party to come with us.”

    “Arcee! Chromia! We have a mission! Firestar, stay here and watch over Alpha Trion. We will return when we can.”

    “Aye Elita, Until All Are One,” Firestar replies, saluting.

    “Until All Are One,” the grouping cries out, Elita transforms into her Cybertronian Semi-Truck, Arcee into her Cybertronian Convertible, and Chromia into her Cybertorian Transport Van as Steeljaw leads the group out.

    “Do you think Prime could still be alive Elita?” Arcee asks.

    “By Primus I hope so, but if not, then I want to know for sure, and make Megatron pay dearly.”

    Hot Rod sits down in the tunnels, alone, spinning one of his pulsar pistols in his hand.

    “Come on Eject,” Hot Rod whispers, “It won’t take Steeljaw long to bring Elita here.”

    “However long it takes Autobot,” a figure states from the shadows.

    “It’ll be too late to save your miserable exhaust pipe,” another finishes.

    Two similarly built mechs step out from the shadows, both with their weapons trained on Hot Rod; the only real difference in the two, their coloring, one being white, one being black.

    “Runamuck and Runabout,” Hot Rod smiles, gazing up at the two, still spinning his pistol, “I would say it is nice to see you both, but we know that would be a lie.”

    “Drop the pistol and tell us more about Elita,” Runamuck orders.

    “And when she is suppose to show up,” Runabout finishes.

    “Sure guys, I can tell you everything you want to know,” Hot Rod states, presenting his pistol, the handle towards Runabout.

    Runabout bends down to take the pistol from Hot Rod, just as the Decepticon’s fingers touch the handle, in a blink of an eye, Hot Rod’s hand retracts, dropping the pistol to the ground, and is replaced by a circular buzz saw that slices through Runabout’s hand like it wasn’t even there. Runabout screams in pain, falling backward, and before his partner can react, Hot Rod’s other hand is up, and the set of tri-blasters on his wrist let loose a barrage at Runamuck, quickly toppling the Decepticon.

    “I’ll get you Auto-Brat!!!” Runabout whimpers, holding the remains of his hand against his chest as he reaches for his weapon, “I’ll blast you apart!”

    “Doubtful,” Hot Rod smiles, having stood up, and kicked the blaster away, his twin pulsar pistols pointed at the wiggling Decepticon.

    Runabout looks at the smoking remains of Runamuck, then darts his attention back to Hot Rod.

    “Come on, we can work something out right?” he begs, “I mean you Autobots wouldn’t just blast a helpless Decepticon right?”

    “Nope, we don’t,” Hot Rod replies, using the tip of one pistol to open Runabout’s chest plate, “but I have no problem forcing you into stasis lock, and forcing you to lay here unanimated for however long it takes your buddies to find you. Though I bet, because you two are alone down here, and Decepticons don’t know these tunnels worth scrap, no one is going to bother to come look for you, for quite sometime.”

    Hot Rod pulls a few wires, rips out a component, and Runabout’s optics go dark, and his body goes limp.

    “Can’t take you anywhere can I Hot Rod?” Eject smiles, walking up beside the victor, “always beating up something aren’t you?”

    “They started it Eject,” Hot Rod replies, twirling his pistol again.

    “Did they have the chance to radio for backup?” Eject asks.

    “Not at all, plus how can you down here, their signal wouldn’t get more then few paces.”

    “True enough I suppose.”

    “Did you get the information we needed?”

    “I got the Ark’s location, I got the access codes, I got the guards names, heck, and I even got us transport down there! The Ark is ours!”

    “Excellent,” Hot Rod smiles, transforming, and once again opening his canopy for Eject, who quickly jumps in, “Then lets go see Elita.”

    “Where is Elita One?” Alpha Trion asks Firestar, walking up to here in the Female Autobots’ base.

    “They had a mission to Earth sir, with Hot Rod,” Firestar replies, picking her head up from the work she is doing on several different Autobots.

    “A mission to Earth? Did Magnus order such a thing?”

    Firestar explains the brief amount of information she has on the mission.

    “Optimus? Alive?” Alpha Trion muses, “It isn’t possible.”

    “Why not sir?” Firestar asks.

    “Cause Optimus Prime’s Spark, has already been extinguished.”
  3. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 3: new hope

    “I have died and gone to heaven,” Hacker squeals, hovering over to the working computer, taking a moment to take in the sight.

    The massive computer’s lights flash in a seemingly random sequence, the scanner, focused on the floor, flickering on and off as if desperate to do something, but unable to. Hacker floats above the computer, allowing a small computer to appear from the arm of his chair.

    “What are you doing Hacker?” Scarlett yells up at him.

    “Attempting to sync directly to this mainframe,” Hacker replies, looking like a child at Christmas, “never been this close to an actually Cybertorian computer! The possibilities…”

    “This computer alone couldn’t be what Megatron is guarding could it?” Mainframe asks, climbing the computer to take a look himself, “it’s impressive, but looks like it hasn’t been used in years. Not to mention, why not just download the data and be done with it.”

    “We still haven’t searched the lower decks of the ship,” Lady Jaye notes, “This might not be it.”

    “No, we’re in the right place,” Spike states, standing upon the lap of one of the giants. “This is why, here.”

    Spike looks over the body. It sits in what appears to be the command chair; its chest ripped open and exposed, most of the parts inside torn apart, mangled. And the head, the head sits on the giant’s shoulders, punched in, the finger marks from his attacker dented into the face perfectly.

    “So?” Lady Jaye asks, “Another damaged Decepticon? What about it?”

    “The damage on the others, were in the midst of battle. They were meant to just bring the robots down…”

    “The damage here was personal,” Scarlet finishes, looking up, “whoever did this, enjoyed it, and had fun.”

    “So this ship,” Mainframe gasps, “is filled with the Decepticon’s enemies?”

    “But if that were true…” Lady Jaye asks, “Then why guard it? They are all dead anyway, aren’t they?”

    “So that is what this sensor does,” Hacker examines, having ignored the conversation, “its some sort of medical beam, able to as assess damages, and command the repair instruments to repair and/or rebuild. Incredible.”

    “That beam can fix these guys?” Spike asks, jumping off from where he was.

    “In laymen’s terms, yes!”

    “Then get over here and help me move this guy over to the beam,” Spike shouts, placing a hand on the smallest robot they have found aboard. Similar to the red one they encountered earlier, but smaller still, and yellow.

    “You want to repair one of these things?!” Mainframe screams, “Are you crazy?!”

    “A little, yes,” Spike admits, “but this is the smallest guy we found, an easy opponent for the five of us if it gets out of hand. We can interrogate him.”

    “Lady Jaye!” Mainframe screams, as Hacker floats over to Spike, “You can’t allow this to happen!!! This is suicide!!!”

    “Our orders are to find out what Megatron is guarding in here, and interrogating one of these things might be our best chance to do just that. I’m Okaying this,” Lady Jaye states.

    “Fine!” Mainframe gives up, jumping off the computer, and running over, “but let me try something real quick.”

    Mainframe waves for Hacker to come closer, and without another word, tackles the keyboard on Hacker’s hover chair, typing away vigorously.

    “What are you doing?” Hacker asks.

    “If you guys are going to be crazy enough to do this,” Mainframe states, “I am making sure he doesn’t wake up with his weapons working. The last thing we need is a pissed off robot shooting at us.”

    “Good thinking,” Lady Jaye states, her and Spike connecting cables from Hacker’s chair to the yellow robot, “we’re all set here when you are.”

    “Alright, I’m done too.”

    “Then away we go!” Hacker yells, dragging the robot while the other’s push.

    As soon as the robot reaches the beam, it engulfs the yellow robot.

    “EXPLORE!” the computer shouts, seeming to download information from an unknown place. After a few minutes, the images of a yellow flying saucer like vehicle appear, and then the image of an earth style car appear.

    “An old Volkswagon Beetle?” Mainframe questions, looking at the computer.

    “Must be why so many of the Decepticons have Earth Styled alternate modes, it is because they rebuilt themselves for purposes of disguise,” Hacker theories.

    “REPAIR!” After another moment, robotic arms come out of the wall, and begin work on the tiny yellow robot. Repairing weapon’s fire holes, replacing certain parts with new ones, and even removing limbs, and outer plating, remolding, then replacing, until after what seems like forever, in reality only a few minutes, instead of a yellow robot, a volkswagon beetle sits, as if off the assembly line.

    “Ugh,” the car groans, before transforming into a slightly altered version of the robot it had once been, “my aching axles.”

    It looks around the room, spotting the command chair, “Optimus?”

    It runs over, not even noticing the soldiers.

    “He can’t be gone,” it whines, searching the broken interior, “he can’t!”

    “Freeze Decepticon! Hands over your head,” Lady Jaye shouts, the five of them surrounding the yellow robot, weapons pointed at it.

    The robot looks around at them, confused.

    “What are you?” it asks.

    “I said hands up!” Lady Jaye shouts again.

    It complies, putting its hands up, “But I don’t understand.”

    “Good, now we are going to ask you a few questions, you are going to answer them, or we are going to start firing. Understood?”

    “Yes, Under… LOOK OUT!” the robot shouts, leaping over Lady Jaye and tackling something in the shadows.

    “Look!” Spike shouts, “Its Ravage!”

    All the flashlights dart at the pair of robots, Ravage; the black, jaguar like one; digging its claws into the yellow. Ravage growls at the shining lights, trying to use one of its legs to cover its optics, but somehow, even though smaller then the yellow robot it fights, seems to have the advantage.

    Spike raises his pistol, “BAD KITTY!” he shouts, blasting one of Ravage’s backend mounted missiles, exploding the missile, blasting off the back end of the Decepticon clean off.

    It growls while twitching on the floor.

    “What in the world did you do that for Spike?” Mainframe shouts.

    With his weapon still trained on Ravage, Spike replies, “that Yellow robot saved Lady Jaye. If not for him, Ravage would have cut her down. He’s a friendly.”

    “I agree with Spike,” Scarlett states, “It risked itself to save Lady Jaye,” she holsters her weapon, “I believe the old saying is ‘My enemy’s enemy, is my friend.’ I think it applies here.”

    The robot gets back up; walking back over to the robot it called Optimus, and kneeling.

    “Optimus Prime,” it states, “my leader, my friend, the Autobot’s protector, may your Spark join the Matrix, as one of Cybertron’s Greatest Heroes.”

    “He’s gone?” Spike asks, walking up to the robot.

    “His Spark is long gone.”

    It takes a moment of silence, then turns to face the humans.

    “My name is Bumblebee, member of the Autobots. Thank you for the save there.”

    “You saved Lady Jaye from Ravage,” Scarlett replies, “It was the least any of us could do.”

    “Are you the ones that got me to Teletran One?” Bumblebee asks.

    “The computer there?” Hacker asks, “Yes, we did.”

    “Where am I? What’s happened?” Bumblebee asks, “Last thing I remember is the Decepticons attacking our ship, and going down onto an uncharted planet with them. Then seeing Optimus there…” Bumblebee’s optics grow sadden, “This all seems so crazy.”

    “You are on Earth,” Lady Jaye replies, “about five years ago; the Decepticons started their takeover of our planet. Our underground militia has been the only thing keeping the entire human race, from being enslaved, or destroyed.”

    “Five years?” Bumblebee thinks, “If my data tracks are updated properly with Earth information, that’s more then 7.2 decacycles. I wonder what’s happened to Cybertron, to the other Autobots…”

    “Decacycles? Autobots?” Mainframe asks, “What are you talking about?”

    Bumblebee sits, scratching his head, “Well, let me see. I am just trying to calculate to make sure what Teletran downloaded to me is correct. We come from a planet called Cybertron, quite a few light-years from Earth…”

    “Not anymore,” Scarlett states, “Megatron brought it into Earth’s orbit.”

    “Really?!” Bumblebee gasps, “That chrome headed lunatic finally succeeded into making Cybertron into his personal Dreadnought?”

    “Not really,” Hacker speaks up, “he used something called a space bridge to pull it into Earth’s orbit.”

    “Please Bumblebee, continue,” Lady Jaye requests.

    “Cybertron has been in the middle of a Civil War for Eons of your time, Autobots (us) vs. Decepticons. Our leader, Optimus Prime, realized that our war had devastated Cybertron’s natural resources, and led a group of us aboard this ship, to find a new source of Energon. The Decepticons followed us, damaged our ship, and boarded us. A huge battled erupted, in the course of which, our damaged ship was pulled in by the gravitational forces of a planet void of sentient life, and millions of years would seem to have changed that.”

    “Million of years?” Hacker gasps, “You have been laying on this floor lifeless for millions of years?”

    “Ma’am,” Spike speaks up, “a word please.”

    The pair walk away from the others.

    “This could be our chance!” he states, “Command wanted us to find out why this place was being guarded so heavily, I would say this is the reason why. Megatron didn’t want these Autobots being woke up and fighting back. If we can form an alliance with them, the Decepticons won’t stand a chance.”

    “I know what your saying Spike,” Lady Jaye states with a heavy sigh, “and while Bumblebee seems to be quite sincere, and friendly, we can’t take that kind of chance. We could be exchanging one group of robotic tyrants, for another.”

    “Ma’am, please,” Spike pleads, “I know this sounds crazy, but I just have this feeling, the Autobots would help us.”

    “Bumblebee says they’ve been fighting a Civil War for Eons, how do we know they didn’t start it.”

    “Because Lady Jaye,” Bumblebee speaks up, “War was never our way, it wasn’t Optimus’s way. He believed ‘Freedom is the Right of All Sentient Beings.’ I can speak for us all when I say, the Autobots will help win back your freedom, and ours, just give us a chance.”

    Lady Jaye thinks about it for a moment, “Bumblebee, can your working computer there send transmissions?”

    “Um, sure, why?”

    “Are you thinking of calling base for further instructions?” Hacker asks.

    Without answering the question, Lady Jaye asks, “Who among your crew would be the next in charge Bumblebee? Who would give command decisions?”

    “Um, you’d wanna talk to Jazz there,” Bumblebee admits, pointing out a white and black robot lying nearest to Optimus.

    “Mainframe, make sure Teletran is still not repairing weapons systems on these guys, and then you and Hacker, help Bumblebee get Jazz to the repair beam. I am going to allow the Autobots to make their own case to command.”

    Earth, somewhere outside of what was once Washington DC.

    “Why is this thing so hard to open?” comes a voice within a large metal crate.

    “Are you always this much of a wimp?” comes another more feminine voice.

    The side of the crate is kicked open from the inside, the pink and silver leg seemingly floating still a moment, before lowering.

    “Not bad, not bad at all Arcee,” Hot Rod states, peaking his head out of the crate, followed by Arcee, then Steeljaw.

    “Where’s Elita and the others?” Arcee asks, popping a new clip into her laser pistol.

    Steeljaw sniffs around the area awhile.

    “They aren’t here.” He states.

    “Eject said the two crates might not be delivered anywhere near each other. Its possible they were just dropped off somewhere else,” Arcee assures.

    Sighing, Hot Rod says, “Then we proceed to the Ark on our own, and hope for the best. Transform and Roll Out!”

    Hot Rod and Arcee transform into their alternate modes, and follow Steeljaw as he sprints west.

    “This is a bit risky isn’t it Hot Rod?” Arcee asks after a few miles, “The Sol System’s star is shining down on us, we are clearly visible, what if a Decepticon patrol spots us?”

    “Don’t worry so much about it Arcee,” Hot Rod replies, “Steeljaw has us covered.”

    “How so?”

    “Jamming signal,” the tiny yellow robot states.

    “It should be enough to protect us from any sensor sweeps, as long as we keep our optics out for low flying Seekers, we should be fine.”

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you General Abernathy,” Jazz greets aloud, looking into Teletran One’s monitor, displaying an image of the human commander.

    “Thank you, Jazz is it?” come Abernathy’s reply, “but please, refer to me as Hawk while we speak over this transmission. I know my people helped you save guard this call, but you never know.”

    “Indeed Hawk,” Jazz smiles, leaning against the computer, “Of course trying to sort out a treaty between your world and the Autobots would be easier in person, but desperate times…”

    “… Call for desperate measures, I know. From what Lady Jaye has told me, getting this treaty written, even informally, is of the utmost importance to us both.”

    Bumblebee sits with the body of Optimus Prime, still grieving the loss of his leader while the other humans bare witness to the treaty being worked out between Jazz and General Hawk.

    “Are you okay Bumblebee?” Spike asks, walking away from the others.

    “No Spike,” Bumblebee admits, “I’m not alright at all.”

    “The good news is Jazz and our boss seem to be getting along well. We’ll more then likely have your friends up and on their feet soon. You’ll be able to get some payback. We all will.”

    “Looking for revenge?”

    “Yeah, I am.”

    Spike retells his tale of his first encounter with the Decepticons; Bumblebee places his hand on the young man’s shoulder.

    “I’m sorry Spike. I am not sure what a ‘father’ is, but I am sure the loss must have been great.”

    Spike laughs, amused.

    “Its all set,” Jazz smiles, running over. “Hawk is downloading plans for their more powerful vehicles into Teletran now. You and me will get Wheeljack and Ratchet back online first, then get us some Decepticon kicking new forms.”

    “As simply as that Jazz?” Bumblebee asks.

    “Yep, in exchange for access to our own technology, yeah!” Jazz grins, “Do we know where Wheeljack and Ratchet are?”

    “Wheeljack is near the far wall, but I don’t know where Ratchet is.”

    “That’s cool. I will go look for him.”

    Jazz transforms into an Earth Porsche 935 Turbo.

    “Wait up Jazz,” Lady Jaye yells, running to the car, “I’d like a tour while you’re looking for your comrade.”

    Jazz opens his driver’s side door, “Certainly. Anything for a lovely new ally.”

    The two speed off down the hallway as Bumblebee runs over to Wheeljack.

    “Up we go Wheeljack,” Bumblebee states, wrapping his arms around Wheeljack’s and pulling across the floor.

    Bumblebee drops Wheeljack as the pair reach the repair beam.

    “EXPLORE!” As before, Teletran shouts out, and comes up with blueprints of a Cybertorian Cargo Transports, and plans for one of the U.E.R.A.’s Skye Sharcs.

    “REPAIR!” Teletran shouts again, robotic arms again coming out and reconfiguring the white robot until it is replaced by a Skye Sharc.

    “Ahh,” Wheeljack moans, “What’s going on?”
    After a brief explanation from Bumblebee.

    “Jumping gyros,” Wheeljack states, mumbling to himself as he sits in front of Teletran One, “I have so much work to do with you.”

    “You’re the brains of this group?” Hacker asks, floating over.

    “Sure am. Who has been working on Teletran? Some of the repairs look already completed!”

    “That would have been me. I have become quite familiar with Cybertorian Technology since the war started. Can I offer you assistance?”

    “Absolutely! I’m Wheeljack.”


    They set to work on Teletran as Jazz comes back in, with a white robot in his arms.

    “Good to see you up and about Wheeljack. Making cool with our new friends?”

    “Cool?” Wheeljack asks looking up, “Why would I lower the human’s body temperature?”

    Jazz and the humans laugh, “It’s a slang word here on Earth Wheeljack,” Jazz informs as he sets his cargo in the beam, “Teletran managed to have all sorts of Earth culture downloaded into its data tracks from its initial downloads. Great stuff.”

    “I’m sure.”

    “EXPLORE!” Teletran shouts, uploading images of a Cybertorian Emergency vehicle, along with images of the U.E.R.A.’s Skye Havoc.


    “I am going to find some of our heavier hitters,” Jazz informs, “I wanna knock out the Decepticon party outside that is watching this place before they get a whiff of what’s going on.”

    “What’s a whiff?” Wheeljack asks, “More Earth terminology?”

    “Yeah Wheeljack,” Ratchet states, transforming and standing up, “You might take an astrosecond to look at Teletran’s new information.

    Ratchet’s transformation was slightly different then the other three. While his new alternate mode was a Skye Havoc, he only seemed to be the front end and wheels of it. The back part had now become something separate from Ratchet. It had treads that lowered from underneath, the small hovercraft housed in the back now became some sort of laser device, looking down unto a large platform.

    “We’ll use my medical bed to bring over the first batch of bots,” Ratchet informs, checking over his platform, “Who’d you have in mind?”

    “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Prowl, and Bluestreak should be the first batch,” Jazz informs.

    “And while you all look for them,” Bumblebee states, running over to the repair beam, “Wheeljack can have Teletran slip me into something a little more, comfortable.”

    “Something more comfortable?” Wheeljack moans, “What does that mean?”

    Images of Bumblebee’s alternate mode, a Volkswagon Beetle, appear on Teletran’s screen, and then image of a U.E.R.A. Skye Hawk.
  4. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 4: Deception within the Ranks

    “YOU DID WHAT GENERAL?” James McCullen shouts, storming into General Abernathy’s quarters.

    “Destro,” the General greets, “what can I do for you?”


    “One: You need to calm down immediately, have a sit, relax; Two: Yes, I gave our new Autobot allies access to our military weapons database in exchange for access to theirs, trading our technology for theirs; and Three: If you have a problem with my command decision, know that I am the Commander and Chief of this operation, my word is the last word anyone need consider, got that?”

    “We have no idea if these Robots, these ‘Autobots,’ are any different then the Decepticons!” James points out, still standing, “What if they give us outdated technology for ours, and turn on us as soon as we help take out the Decepticons for them?”

    “Right now, they have the team within Mount Saint Helens vouching for them, and their sincerity. Not a one of them in there would give their trust easily, especially young Witwicky. Or have you forgotten that poor boy’s father was one of the first victims the Decepticons claimed?”

    “Even more reason for us to be suspect! We don’t know what kind of mental condition Witwicky maybe in! He might see the ‘Autobots,’ and their smooth talking for a means of revenge, and is jumping at the chance!”

    “The point is moot at this time,” the General states, standing up, “We have their technology, they have ours. Nothing you say will change that. Now if there is nothing else, get out.”

    Without another word, McCullen storms out, rushing past anyone he encounters in the corridors. He arrives at his personal quarters, slamming the door so hard behind him, it bounces back out, and strikes the wall. Taking a moment to lock the door, he sits at his desk, and pulls the desk drawer open, revealing a strange device.

    “Open a channel, personal verification, Destro Alpha. Respond.”

    The device comes to life, and flickers on a green light.

    “Channel open,” it states, “Proceed with communication.”

    “This is Crimson Viper Commander, go ahead Destro,” a human voice announces from the device.

    “Update on special project,” Destro orders.

    “Proto-forms are complete. Running weapon system tests now. Though we are still waiting for our Decepticon insider to delivery the ‘Sparks.”

    “He will deliver,” McCullen assures, “and when he does, we will rid ourselves of Megatron, and General Abernathy all at once.”

    “Not really sure how I like these new bodies Jazz,” Sunstreaker whines, looking over his yellow chromed body, “They don’t exactly shout style.”

    “Who cares about that ‘Streaker,” Sideswipe states, “These are definitely made to kick Decepticons in the exhaust!”

    “Yeah, I just wished these alternate modes were classier, like those scans of the Lamborghini’s Teletran had initially intended for us. Now those were hot!”

    “Put your ego in neutral Sunstreaker,” Prowl orders, him and Bluestreak doing a final check of their rifles, “We’ll worry about your redecoration later, first we have a world to liberate.”

    “Just stick to the plan ‘bots,” Jazz states, in a bulkier and darker body “We have to make sure the Decepticons can’t call for backup while we’re bringing the rest of our buddies back online. I’ll scramble their transmissions, you all blast them hard!”

    “Just let me at them Jazz,” Bumblebee states, his new body still very similar to his old, the only noticeable difference being his arms, which instead of being squared off, are more cylinder looking due to his new form.

    “You got it little buddy,” Jazz smiles, transforming into a rugged looking jeep, with four missiles on the back end, “This Vamp II body should shake them up.”

    “I got the door Jazz,” Bluestreak smiles, pressing a switch on the exterior hatch door.

    The hatch slides open, and Jazz fires his accompaniment of missiles. Two soar up and past the Decepticons near the opened hatch, and explode in the air, releasing an energy shockwave. The other two missiles slam into a dark maroon Decepticon, and a fuchsia colored one, causing each to erupt.

    “Thrust! Ghost! What’s happening?” screams another one, running over to find the remains of his fallen comrades.

    “Hey Dirge!” Bumblebee shouts, transforming into a yellow Skye Hawk, and firing both missiles. Both rip through Dirge’s body, taking him out as well.
    Bumblebee transforms again, and lands on the back of a green Decepticon, pounding into its backside.

    “GO! GO! GO!” Prowl shouts, him and Bluestreak transforming into similar vehicles as Jazz, the difference, instead of missiles, they both have large double barreled cannons on their backs. They split into two different directions, targeting a white Decepticon and a yellow, taking them out.

    “We got two going airborne Jazz!” Bluestreak shouts, firing after two Decepticons as they transform into variations on F-15 jet fighters.

    “We got them,” Sideswipe smiles as him and Sunstreaker transform into Skye Ravens, pursuing.

    “My jamming missiles will keep them off their Comm. units,” Jazz calls back, transforming back into robot mode, “but not if they get too far away!”

    “We got it, we got it!” Sunstreaker shouts back, opening the missile bay on his belly, and firing two missiles. Each slide past their targets, making narrow misses.

    “You can’t hit the board side of a nebula Autobot!” the red Decepticon shouts, circling around and opening fire.

    “He’s right bro!” Sideswipe mocks, “Even I can do better then that.”
    Sideswipe proves it. He launches from one large, twin-engine missiles from his wings. The weapon rips through the blue Decepticon, causing his remains to crash into a mountainside.

    “Want me to take care of that ‘Con on your six?”

    “On my six?” Sunstreaker questions, “You’ve had an aerial mode for two nano clicks, and you are already an airbot? Complete with the jargon?”

    “Do you want my help or not ‘streaker?”


    Sunstreaker activates a twin-barreled blaster on his back, pointed backwards. Takes aim, and fires. The twin beams rip a wing from his attacker, sending the Decepticon Seeker spiraling down.

    “Lets head back bro,” Sideswipe states, the pair turning back.

    “Is that Bumblebee?” Sunstreaker asks, spotting Bumblebee, whaling on the green Decepticon’s back.

    “Get off me you stinking little slag head!” the green Decepticon shouts, trying to tear Bumblebee from his back.

    “Sure thing Rust-Bucket!” Bumblebee grins, springing off the Decepticon, sending the green Seeker to the ground.

    “I’m going to rip your Spark Chamber out!” the Decepticon promises, jumping back to his feet, preparing to strike.

    “Don’t move Decepticon,” Flint shouts, two Skye Havocs appearing before him, several humans pointing blasters at the Decepticon.

    “You think a few humans are going to stop me?” the Decepticon asks, powering up his arm-mounted weapons.

    “Maybe not slag head,” Jazz grins, pointing his weapon at the Decepticon, walking up to stand beside Bumblebee.

    “But six Autobots,” Prowl continues, approaching from the left.

    “A large group of humans, all armed to the teeth,” Bluestreak continues, approaching from the right.

    “That maybe enough to stop you,” Sideswipe interjects, him and Sunstreaker transforming and landing behind.

    The Decepticon merely raises his arms, in surrender.

    Later, back within the Ark and most of the Ark’s occupants back on their feet.

    “This place is incredible!” David Lewinski shouts, eyeing the interior of the ship, “Beautiful even.”

    “Settle down soldier,” Flint orders, “We still have work to do here. Our orders are to make sure the Autobots have everything they need. Go over and help Hacker and Wheeljack with the main computer.”

    “Aye sir.”

    Wayne Sneeden walks up to Flint, “Sir!”

    “Report Beachhead.”

    “We got the exterior defenses set up. Any Decepticon energy signature even thinks of coming near here, and they will get a hot foot that extends all the way up to their eyes.”

    “Good work, where’s Lady Jaye?”

    “Still checking over the additions we made to the defenses with the robot they call Jazz.”

    “Alright, thank you.”

    Flint walks off, and down the corridor, just missing a green Vamp, dashing onto the bridge.

    “You’ll never guess what I found!!!” the VAMP shouts, transforming into the Autobot Hound.

    “What is it Hound?” Prowl asks, looking up from his station.

    “Come take a look.”

    “Ironhide, come with.” Prowl requests to what looks like a red version of Ratchet.

    The three head down into the depths of the ship, finding themselves staring at a rock wall that has torn through the hull, Spike and another human working on cutting through.

    “So what’s the big deal,” Ironhide asks, crossing his arms, “Another rock wall in the Ark, there are tons of them.”

    “But Hound thinks there are more Autobots on the other side,” the human shouts up.

    “Nicky Lee here is right,” Hound states, “My sensors are picking up five strong signals on the other side in stasis lock. Prime said before we left Cybertron, that he put an ace onboard, I think this could be that ace.”

    “Then stand back,” Ironhide demands, a large drill popping out of his forearm, “If we got friends back there, I am getting them out.”

    Ironhide sets to work, drilling into the rock face, his trailer picking up debris and moving it out of the way.

    “Who could be back there though,” Prowl asks, “The ship’s roster says everyone is accounted for.”

    “If I’m right,” Hound states, “and I like to think I am, then the Autobot’s heavy guns are back there, and I have the perfect idea for their new forms.”

    Outside the Ark, “So you’re sure this is going to work Trailbreaker?” Jazz asks, standing next to a large black mech with Lady Jaye.

    “Absolutely Jazz,” Trailbreaker confirms, “I have patched myself into the power system of the Decepticon platform surrounding the mountain, giving my forcefield generator that more power to feed off of. I figure I can hold off the Decepticons for quite sometime.”

    “Excellent!” Jazz smiles, “Run one more set of tests to make sure though, it won’t be long until the Decepticons send someone to find out what happened to their Seekers here.”

    Meanwhile, back on Cybertron, deep within a forgotten Decepticon outpost.

    “Here we are,” a red and gray seeker smiles, opening up a set of cylinders, “Right where Megatron left you.”

    “This is what you brought me here for Starscream,” the Baroness stomps, “a few cylinders with glowing orbs within them? We could have used lava lamps!”

    “Quiet your voicilizer Baroness or I will deactivate it for you!” Starscream demands, “These aren’t ‘lava lamps,’ they are Sparks! They contain the very essences of Decepticons who Megatron deemed too uncontrollable to allow to their own devices. They will suit us perfectly.”

    “So then why am I here then?” she demands.

    “I need someone to load them aboard carefully. These chambers are quite delicate.”

    “FREEZE! Who goes there?” a Decepticon stands there, pointing his arm-mounted blasters at the pair.

    “Air Commander Starscream, its you,” the Decepticon realizes, relaxing, “What are you doing here?”

    “I am going to take these Sparks to Earth, place them in human built bodies, and use them to overthrow Megatron,” Starscream grins, placing the Sparks down.

    “What? What are you talking about?”

    “It is called revolution, and deception fool, something you know nothing about.”

    And with that, Starscream brings his weapons to bare on the surprised Decepticon, and fires, destroying the target.

    “Quite ruthless of you Starscream,” Baroness states as the Seeker transforms into his jet mode.

    “Well, we can’t leave witnesses now can we?” Starscream asks, opening his cargo hold. Baroness works quickly to load their precious cargo, then boards herself in the cockpit.

    “Next stop, Cobra Island.”

    “Nice work Ironhide,” Nicky Lee smiles, examining the freshly drilled hole, “Now we can get to this part of the ship.”

    “Let’s just find these heavy hitters Hound mentioned,” Spike interjects, leading the four inside.

    “Let me see if I can shine a little light on the situation,” Hound offers, turning the headlamps on his chest on, illuminating the area.

    “They’re big!” Spike notices, eyeing five large Autobots, in stasis lock, lying on the floor.

    Ironhide and Hound smile at each other, Ironhide’s trailer rolling over to load the first, while Hound transforms and allows Ironhide to fasten a second to his towing hitch.

    “We have incoming on the horizon,” Charlie Iron-Knife calls to Trailbreaker.

    The Native American born soldier eyes the horizon carefully from the Decepticon barrier surround the Ark, unaided by anything but his naked eyes.

    “You can see that with your eye alone,” Trailbreaker asks, punching up the long range sensors, “I can’t even see that, but the sensors are picking them up, without a problem.”

    “Friends or Foes?” Charlie asks.

    “Can’t tell, trying to determine that now.”

    “What’s going on Trailbreaker?” Prowl asks, running up.

    “We have three incoming on the ground, and fast. If it weren’t for Spirit here, I mean Charlie Iron-Knife, we probably wouldn’t have picked them up yet.”


    “They are Cybertorian in origin, but the damn Decepticons when they built this thing, never equipped it to be able to tell the difference between Autobot and Decepticon energy signatures. They probably didn’t think they needed to with all of us being on our backs.”

    “How soon can you arrive at that answer?”

    “Give me a sec, I have to feed the information in manually now, and then decipher the readings.”

    “We do not have a moment Trailbreaker,” Charlie interjects, “If they are Decepticons, they will know quite soon that their comrades no longer maintain a hold on this insulation.”

    “Trailbreaker, transform and hook yourself into the power grid, get ready to erect your forcefield.”

    Trailbreaker transforms into a large, troop carrying APC truck. Then opens a panel on his side. Wires and plugs come to life from within and hook into various locations on the barrier’s control panel.

    “All hooked in.” Trailbreaker calls.

    “Yellow alert ‘bots,” Prowl calls into the ship’s intercom, “three possible Decepticons on incoming. Bumblebee, Brawn, Gears, Huffer, Cliffjumper, Windcharger up here now.”

    Without delay, the six Autobots come running out, and transform.

    Bumblebee becomes the yellow Skye Hawk once more, Cliffjumper, a red version of the same vehicle. Windcharger joins them in the air as a red Dragonfly helicopter. Brawn leads the three on the ground as a green Triple ‘T’ Tank, Huffer along one side as an orange Snowcat and Gears on the other side as a blue LCV Recon Sled.

    “You six stay out of their site until we identify them. If they are the enemy, it’ll be harder for them to spot you Mini-Bots as opposed to the rest of us.” Prowl states.

    The three flyers swing around to the backside of the volcano, hovering in attack-mode, while the others on the ground hide in the shadows, weapons trained on the incoming Cybertorians.

    “Talk to me Trailbreaker!” Prowl orders, ducking behind the panel, taking hold of his rifle.

    “Give me another nano-second,” Trailbreaker replies.

    “We don’t have another nano-second big guy!” Brawn growls, rolling his treads back and forth, staying in place but kicking up dust.

    “This plan will never work,” Huffer whines, “these Decepticons will spot us before we can figure out they are Decepticons, and will alert Megatron and we’ll all be toast, mark my words.”

    “And you guys call me a cranky pessimistic bot,” Gears notes.

    “If they are Decepticons, they’ll be at the other end of my viewfinder before they know what hit them,” Cliffjumper promises.

    “Slag,” Trailbreaker curses, “they are within weapons range.”

    “Shields up!” Prowl orders, “Red Alert!”

    The three flyers come swinging around the volcano, weapons powering up.

    “WAIT!” Bumblebee shouts, transforming over Prowl and dropping next to them, “They’re friends!!! They’re Autobots!!!

    The three approach, the two cars transforming while the third, lion like robot stands there and growls.

    “Arcee! Hot Rod! Steeljaw!” Brawn shouts, transforming and tackling Hot Rod, “Where did you three come from?

    “Welcome to Earth,” Prowl states grimly, “There is something you should see.”

    “Optimus?” Hot Rod questions.

    Prowl merely turns, and leads them inside.
  5. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 5: The Dawn Before the Storm

    “Optimus?” Hot Rod whispers, “Dead?”

    Prowl stands at the entrance way of the Ark’s medical bay, giving Hot Rod Steeljaw and Arcee a moment to take in the sight before them. Their leader, their hero, their protector, lifeless upon the examine table.

    “Ratchet?” Prowl speaks up.

    “The autopsy shows exactly what we feared Prowl,” Ratchet admits, closing up Prime’s chest, “his vital circuitry was ripped out by hand, causing the Spark to slowly flicker out. My guess, Megatron had fun before leaving the rest of us to ‘Rust In Peace.’”

    “Does Elita know?” Arcee asks, “Did her team make it here before us?”

    “Her team?” Prowl asks.

    “We were separated from her, Chromia and Eject, they aren’t here?”

    “No, they aren’t,” Prowl scowls, activating the Ark’s intercom, “Blaster, you there?”

    “Look Out and Shout!” another voice comes back, “Somebody told me my little buddy Steeljaw was aboard!”

    “Wake up Elita, we have much to discuss.”

    Elita’s optics blink to life. A slight groan escapes her vents as her optics; meet a set of fiery red ones.

    “Megatron,” she states coldly, “What do you want?”

    “I want many things my dear. I want to know why you were trying to sneak off to Earth. I want to know where your Autobot comrades are, and I want to know where I can find, Alpha Trion.”

    “Alpha Trion?” she questions, “Haven’t you heard? He was scraped Vorns ago.”

    “I sincerely doubt that my dear. There is also one other thing I want.”

    “And what may that be?”

    “To tell you, Optimus Prime, is no more. I myself, crushed his Spark with my bare hands.”


    Elita tries to reach out at Megatron, but merely finds, her arms and legs chained by Energon bonds to the walls. She continues to struggle, to fight, her anger boiling over.

    Megatron’s right hand slides into his forearm casing, and is replaced, by a glowing spiked ball, that falls to the floor, leashed by a glowing chain to the arm.

    Megatron whips the mace around, and brings it hard across Elita’s face. The metal on her cheek melts away, revealing crushed components beneath.

    “I am going to have such fun with this interrogation.”

    “The Matrix?”

    There, hanging off Megatron’s chest, she sees the Matrix, chained about her attackers neck.

    “Yes indeed. The fabled Autobot Matrix of Leadership. Passed from one Prime to another,” Megatron’s left hand holds the object up to his face, “Its power is infinite, but the secret to wielding such power, escapes me.”

    “It escapes you Megatron, because it only works for an Autobot, not a Decepti-creep!”

    Megatron lashes out again, this time, striking Elita’s chest. The metal housing at the point of impact melts away from the mace’s heat, the components beneath, dented from the impact.

    “How dare you speak out of turn to your superior Elita-One!” Megatron yells, “I have half a cerebro chip to…”

    “Megatron…” interrupts Soundwave, who’s been in the shadows the whole time, “Transmission from Earth. Communication lost with Ark security.”

    “WHA?” Megatron shouts, stomping his foot so hard as he turns, leaving a huge dent in his wake.

    “Your orders Megatron?”

    “Leave Buzzsaw here to finish the interrogation of Elita-One and her companion,” Megatron orders, referring to Chromia, who is chained up on the other wall, “and contact Scrapper on Earth.”

    “Scrapper’s orders?”

    “Full scale assault on the Ark. The attack should make when we destroyed Omega Supreme look like droid play!”

    “Buzzsaw Eject,” Soundwave commands, a large cassette sliding from his chest, transforming into the condor like Buzzsaw, “Operation, Interrogation.”

    Buzzsaw hovers before Elita, grinning evilly as Megatron and Soundwave leave.

    “Let’s see how much I have to cut from you, before you squeal for me Fem,” Buzzsaw taunts, his eyes glowing.

    “I have only one thing to say to you Buzzsaw,” Elita admits with a grin.

    “And what is that?”



    Unknown to Buzzsaw, in the time it took him to question what Elita-One had said, a tiny compartment on Chromia’s shoulder opens and spits out a black cassette. The black cassette zooms through the air, transforming into the Autobot Eject, who tackles the unaware Decepticon.

    “Bad bird!” Eject yells, ripping Buzzsaw’s wings and weapons off.

    “Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!” Buzzsaw whines, flailing about.

    “And how many Autobots begged for the same before you sent them to the Pit!” Eject screams, leveling his blaster at the Decepticon’s head.

    “No please! Don’t fire!!!” Buzzsaw whines, shutting his optics.

    Two shots ring out, Buzzsaw screams.

    “I am not scrapped?!” Buzzsaw realizes, reactivating his optics.

    He see Eject, still standing over him, weapon pointing behind him and smoking, Chromia and Elita coming closer, rubbing their now free wrists.

    “Deactivate his vocalizer, we’ll take him with us,” Elita commands, picking her and Chromia’s weapons up.

    “Transform Birdbrain,” Eject demands.

    “What is the plan Elita?” Chromia asks, checking over her weapon.

    “We head for Ultra Magnus, get the other Autobots, and head for the Ark.”

    “But Prime is dead Elita!” Eject states.

    “Yeah, but he wouldn’t be sending anyone there if there wasn’t a threat… the others are functioning.”

    The F-15 flies low over the Indian Ocean, staying just high enough to miss the waves below.

    “Would you please hurry Starscream,” the Baroness complains within the cockpit, “I am frightfully bored.”

    “Quiet human!” the jet screams back, “we are on final approach to your, ‘Cobra Island.’ Let us just hope your pathetic Vipers were able to follow my plans for the new Decepticons, or this will all be for nothing!”

    “Don’t you mean yours and Destro’s plans? He is the one who is mostly responsible for these new soldiers, you merely helped.”

    “Pray Baroness, when I am in charge of the Decepticons… I forget about your contempt!”

    And at that moment, not to their surprise, a large rock mass rises from the waves, and opens, revealing a hangar bay that Starscream glides into with ease.

    “Hurry Flesh Creatures!” Starscream shouts, “Unload the Sparks from my cargo hold with care or face my fury!”

    The Baroness forces the canopy of the cockpit open, watching as several Cobra Vipers go to work, unloading the five cylinders and loading them onto large transport beds. She jumps down onto one of the cylinders, and allows the Vipers to wheel her away as Starscream transforms after his cargo is unloaded.

    “Now! Let me see these fearsome vehicles of Destro’s!” Starscream demands.

    “Show him!” the Baroness orders to a group of engineers working behind a large drape.

    The drape falls, revealing a massive green tank with a double-barreled torrent set atop, and a cockpit stretching out over the treads; a yellow jeep with a large missile launcher on the back; a two cockpit gray helicopter with treads; a maroon and brown single person rocket ship; and a gigantic blue low-built tank with treads to the side, and a wedge shaped three man cockpit with cannons on top.

    “Oh these are good, very good,” Starscream smiles, examining the vehicles closely.

    “Based on the information you gave us in regards to the five Decepticons that will inhabit these bodies,” a Tech-Viper states out loud, “we based theses bodies on what Destro felt would be the best fits. A Cobra HISS tank, a Stinger Jeep, Destro’s Dominator helicopter, the Stellar Stiletto rocket jet, and of course, Destro’s Demon assault vehicle and vehicle transport.”

    “You flesh bags have done well… very well.”

    “You alright?” Spike Witwicky asks, walking up Hot Rod.

    Hot Rod sits outside the Ark, gazing blankly into the lava pit of the volcano.

    “No, I am not,” Hot Rod responds.


    “More then that Spike,” Hot Rod admits, “a part of me was so sure Prime was still alive, that I risked it all to come for him, and even though we found the others functioning…”

    “You still feel like you failed.”

    “Something like that.”

    “I feel the same way every time we go out onto a mission. We are usually successful, and free so many people… but it never makes up for not being able to protect my dad when the Decepticons first showed up. It sucks.”

    “What in Cybertron is that?!” comes a cry from the exterior of the volcano.

    Spike and Hot Rod run to investigate, finding Trailbreaker and Spirit looking out towards the horizon.

    “What’s up?” Hot Rod asks.

    “The sky goes dark upon the horizon,” Spirit reveals, “Like the high noon Sun is being eclipsed… but the Sun is left untouched.”

    A wall of black seems to overtake the skyline, growing thicker and thicker like clouds, but too dark, too quickly for it to be natural.

    A visor drops down over Hot Rod’s optics and stretches out like binoculars.

    “It isn’t an eclipse of this system’s star… its Insecticons, Insecticon clone drones.”

    “RED ALERT!” Trailbreaker shouts, hitting an alarm button on his forearm, “We have company, big time!”

    Prowl and Jazz come running out first, followed by most of the other’s inside.

    “Looks like the Constructicons are leading them on the ground,” Hot Rod reports, still scanning.

    “What do we do?” Flint asks, him and the other soldiers following close behind.

    “We prepare for a full out battle,” Jazz replies.

    “Roger that Jazz,” Prowl states, activating his Comm. Unit, “Wheeljack, Ratchet, you and the humans helping you continue working on our heavy hitters, we are going to need ASAP! Trailbreaker, get plugged back into the Decepticon battery and erect your force field… it won’t last long against that Armada, but it will buy us time. Everyone else, I need you ready for a fight, now!”

    “I’d rather be home hunting cyber foxes,” the blue mech Mirage states, first to jump over the battery to the ground, transforming into his new AWE Striker mode.
    Jazz, Brawn, Gears, Huffer, Hound, Bluestreak, Ironhide, Hot Rod, Arcee and Blaster follow, (Blaster becoming a large red Killer Whale Hovercraft) and wait.
    Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Windcharger transform and hover above the grounded Autobots while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe prepare themselves to go airborne at a moments notice. Flint leads the Skye Havocs to join the Autobots on the ground while Lady Jaye leads her group back to the Skye Hawks to join Bumblebee and the others.

    From the battery, Prowl shouts, “Everyone hold their fire until I give the word! We don’t need any wasted shots! The Clone Drones will be easy enough to destroy, but their numbers are overwhelming… and then we have our other problem…”

    “Other problem?” Spike asks from his Skye Hawk.

    “The Constructicons Spike,” Bumblebee replies, hovering close, “they may have never used it against you, but they hold the Decepticons most powerful weapon… Devastator.”

    “I hate Decepticons,” Spike grunts, cracking his knuckles.

    “Forcefield going up!” Trailbreaker announces in his APC mode, generating a protective barrier around the whole volcano.

    “Here they come!” Cliffjumper shouts as the Clone Drones begin flying into the forcefield, exploding on contact.

    “What are they doing?” Beachhead shouts from one of the Skye Havoc hovercrafts, “They’re going kamikazes!”

    “They are lifeless drones,” Prowl replies, “they are fodder to wear on the forcefield to make it fall. ALL UNITS! BLAST THOSE BUGS!”

    And with that, a firestorm of lasers and missiles are launched from the combine forces of the Autobots and the humans of the UERA.

    Meanwhile, within the medical bay of the Ark…

    “Hurry up Ratchet!” Wheeljack shouts, standing over a massive body, “they’re going to need these guys ASAP!”

    “No kidding Wheeljack!” Ratchet shouts back, helping Hacker up onto the examination table, “but these five need a lot more care then anyone else did, I don’t know how we are ever going to get them back on their feet.”

    “Is my transport ready?” Megatron demands, slamming his foot once more.

    “I have everything prepped for you my lord,” Skywarp states, bowing.

    “About time! Shockwave! Now is the time we must retrieve the target!”

    “Yes Megatron,” Shockwave replies.

    “Let us not waste another nano-second.”

    “General sir!” comes a shouting soldier of the UERA, “We have a problem sir!”

    “What is it McFadden?” General Abernathy asks, looking up from his desk.

    “The Ark is under massive attack General!”

    “Scramble everything we have! Immediately!”

    Before McFadden can turn, the UERA base is rocked violently.

    “What in God’s name is that?” Abernathy demands.

    “I call it,” Destro smiles, sliding up behind General Abernathy, sticking a laser pistol into the small of the General’s back, “Betrayal. Long live Cobra.”

    “You won’t get away with this Destro,” General Abernathy promises, hands rising up slowly, “You can’t beat the Decepticons without our help, you know that!”

    As if on cue, a giant metal hand rips open the wall, tearing at it until its huge red optics fill the room with its scarlet stare.

    “I think my new friend Bruticus would have to disagree with you General.”
  6. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 6: Let Loose the Dogs of War

    “We could’ve phoned this in Scrapper,” Bombshell sneers, the Insecticon looking slightly bored.

    “C’mon on Scrapper!” Bonecrusher whines, “Let’s merge and get in there and finish them off! They’re so few left!”

    “No! Quiet! Both of you!” Scrapper demands, “we use the Insecticon Drones to soften the Autobots up until they’re no more drones left, then the nine of us can easily finish any who remain without difficulty.”

    “I agree with Scrapper,” Hook chimes in, “Why waste my precious abilities on a task so beneath me?”

    “Look out Spike!” Hot Rod screams from the battlefield, jumping over rubble from the battle to slice a drone in half with his buzz saw hand before it can land on the human Spike.

    “Thanks Hot Rod!” Spike replies, dragging the unconscious body of Beachhead from the battlefield, “give me cover while I get Beachhead out of here!”

    Taking aim with his wrist mounted blasters, Hot Rod lets loose in a wave of plasma blasts.

    “I am running out of photon charges guys!” Hot Rod shouts, once again switching to his circular buzz saw, “Conserve your Ammo! Go to any alternative means of combat you have!”

    “What do you say my main bot Jazz!” Blaster grins, “About hitting these bugs with a sonic blast!”

    “I’m with you big red!” Jazz replies.

    The two transform, the rocket launcher on Jazz’s backside flipping up and twin speakers folding out onto the side before the launcher folds back down, and the twin fans on Blaster’s Killer Whale mode swivel around, the fans folding out, becoming huge speakers themselves.

    “All you Autobots and Humans get down!” Jazz warns as sonic disruption waves are released from the speakers, causing the systems on the drones to crash violently to the point of exploding in most cases, the rest merely drop like stones.

    “Why didn’t we do that to begin with?” Flint asks, tending to a few injured soldiers.

    “Didn’t know it would work like that,” Jazz admits, “not that I’m complaining at this point.”

    The Insecticons drop to their knees, screaming in pain.

    “Feedback from the Sonic Scrambler!” Bombshell cries, “Our systems are crashing!”

    “Constructicons Merge!” Scrapper orders.

    The six green Constructicons transform and merge into one giant robot, almost three times the size of Blaster, presently the largest Autobot in the battle.

    “Prepare for devastation Autobots! Prepare for Devastator!”

    “I am so glad you have decided to give into me so quickly Hawk,” Destro sneers, staring at the bound General Abernathy before him, Starscream, the Baroness, and a large blue mech standing behind him, “I would hate to have to kill anymore humans then needed. Cobra will require healthy slaves.”

    With his lip bleeding, one eye black and puffy, General Abernathy spits at Destro,
    blood trickles down the cheek of Destro’s metal mask.

    In response, Destro lashes out, decking General Abernathy square in the face.

    “You waste your time with this flesh creature,” the large blue mech states, “our time would be better served dealing with Megatron now.”

    “I merely wish General Abernathy here to tell me what secrets he gave to the Autobots Onslaught,” Destro states, pulling Abernathy back to face him.

    “There is no more UERA now General ‘Hawk,’ and no more G.I. Joes, no more USA, there is now only Cobra, and we will rule all! Tell me what I want to know, and I will make your death quick.”

    “Get bent chrome-dome.”

    Destro lashes out again.

    “Perhaps,” Starscream chimes in, “It is time to let a trained interrogator take a crack, “Vortex!”

    “Magnus!” Elita-One shouts as her, Eject and Chromia run into the Cybertron based war room of the Autobots, “Where are you?!”

    “Elita!” Magnus replies, running to embrace his comrade, “We thought we lost you! We only just heard! Let me get a medic, get you repaired.”

    “Heard?” Elita states astonished, “What are you talking about Magnus? How could you know we were captured heading to Earth with Hot Rod?”

    “Captured? Earth? With Hot Rod? I am talking about Female Autobot HQ being wiped out!”

    “What?” Elita asks, optics wide, turning to the wall and leaning against it.

    “First Optimus, now, Alpha Trion and my troops… all gone… gone?”

    “What happened Chromia?” Magnus asks.

    “After you denied Hot Rod’s mission request to the Ark, him, Steeljaw and Eject came to us, and Elita agreed to help with the mission. Hot Rod, Arcee and Steeljaw went on one transport to Earth, while the three of us on another. We were captured and questioned about Alpha Trion and the locations of Autobot bases by Megatron himself, with the Matrix around his neck. We gave him nothing, hence Elita-One’s injuries. He then received word they lost contact with the Ark and immediately stormed away, leaving Buzzsaw to finish the interrogation.” Chromia throws the cassette form of the Decepticon on the table, “and we escaped moments after that.”

    “HE WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” Elita-One shouts, punching so hard against the metal wall, she punches clean through it, “I WON’T LET HIM!”

    She draws her hand back, ignoring the cracks on the housings of her fingers, and the lubricant dripping from them.

    “We have functioning allies on Earth,” she states coldly, “We leave at once for Earth to retrieve them. Then we return to Cybertron, and go after Megatron.”

    “I agree, but you need a CR Chamber first Elita,” Magnus states, placing his hands on her shoulders.

    “I don’t need anything!” Elita-One screams, “I am in charge, I outrank you! We leave at once! Rally every able-body we have, let loose the dogs of war!”

    The old mech groans out loud, his optics slowly flickering to life, “Where am I?”

    “You are within my throne room old one,” Megatron reveals, looking at the crumbled body of Alpha Trion from his throne, “I have brought you here to aid me.”

    Alpha Trion rises slowly from the floor, the squeak and groan of his ancient body echo through the room.

    “How did I come to be here?” he asks, making eye contact with Megatron.

    “We had Elita-One in custody for a short time. We were able to backtrack her energy signature to your base. It took some doing, but I have some very talented mechs working for me.”

    “And what is it you wish of me?”

    “Isn’t it obvious?” Megatron bends closer, letting the Matrix dangle from his neck, “I want you to help me unlock the power of the Matrix, the power of our God Primus himself. As the oldest functioning member of our kind, and the one who created Optimus Prime, you are the ideal candidate.”

    “We are scrap!” Gears groans, barely able to move.

    “We have never seen a ‘con that big before,” whispers Beachhead, “I don’t know how we can… beat that thing?”

    “Anyway it takes!” Hot Rod shouts, opening fire, “We don’t stand a chance in the Pit, but we can leave our mark on that Titanium crusted body before we go! Who’s with me?”

    Flint grabs up his rifle, preparing to follow Hot Rod, and is stopped a moment by Lady Jaye.

    “Say it,” she smiles, “You know you want to.”

    Flint smiles wide, lifts the rifle over his head, and screams aloud…

    “YO JOE!”

    The unhurt humans and the still functioning Autobots rally around Hot Rod and Flint, bombarding the giant, stalking form of Devastator as it approaches.

    “You think you can stand against Devastator little ones!” Devastator mocks, firing his optic lasers at them.

    The group manages to dodge the blasts, staying one step ahead of the giant’s attacks, but as Devastator get closer, his aim get better.

    “Argh!” screams Ironhide, his arm getting caught in the blast, and seared off.

    “You alright big guy?” Scarlett asks, attempting to give him cover fire.

    “I sure as heck ain’t,” Ironhide admits, “but that ain’t gonna slow me down nether!”

    Ironhide raises his functioning arm; his hand slides into the casing and is replaced
    by a short, wide barrel.

    “Here’s mud in ya eye!” the barrel spits out a thick foam, splattering across Devastator’s face, and hardening.

    “Argh!” comes Devastator’s muffled cries as he reaches for the harden foam, struggling to tear it away.

    Hot Rod seizes the opportunity and transforms, racing at Devastator at full speed. Transforms without slowing down and leaps into the air, extending his feet forward, striking the gigantic Decepticon so hard, it falls backward, squashing the Insecticons beneath him.

    “How dare you!” Devastator screams, freeing himself of the foam, and spotting Hot Rod on his chest, trying to recover from his stunt, “Devastator will crush you!”
    Devastator reaches out and picks Hot Rod up, squeezing tightly as he rises.

    “AH!” Hot Rod screams, struggling to free himself.

    “Now puny Autobot, prepare for your destruction.”

    As if on cue, an explosion rips through the top of the volcano, stealing everyone’s attention.

    “What is this?” Devastator asks, gazing up.

    “Me Grimlock thinks, this is when you Devastator gets devastated!” shouts one of five figures standing atop the volcano, while not a one of them is as big as Devastator, they each eclipse any of the other Mechs below.

    The five launch into the air, rocketing down at Devastator.

    “It’s Grimlock and the Dynabots!” Bumblebee shouts.

    “Hmph!” Grimlock snorts, firing his double barreled blaster, “Dynabots no more, now we Dinobots! Dinobots transform!”

    Grimlock transforms into a huge robotic tyrannosaurus rex, and lands atop Devastator, forcing him back down hard, and chomping at the arm that holds Hot Rod until it lets go.

    “Nice to see you again Grimlock,” Hot Rod smiles, making his way from the fight.

    “You and your squad have never stood a chance against the Devastator,” Devastator points out, clocking Grimlock with his free arm, flipping him away, “What makes you think these primitive forms will help you?”

    Devastator rises, aiming his rifle at Grimlock.

    “Me Slag say you talk too much!” another screams, transforming into a triceratops, and charging Devastator. The blow takes the Decepticon gestalt completely off guard, causing him to drop his weapon.

    “Get away!” Devastator demands, kicking Slag, though the blow barely budges the Dinobot, it greatly dents his titanic foot.

    Another of the group, transforms in midair into a stegosaurus, and drops, upside down upon the Decepticon, allowing the plating on his back to pierce Devastator’s armor.

    “Snarl say you stay down!” the stegosaurus demands as Devastator once again lands on his back. Snarl’s spiked tail lashes out, slapping Devastator repeatedly.

    “Argh!” Devastator seizes Snarl’s tail and flings him off.

    “Me Swoop say you stay down!” the smallest of the group shouts, though still bigger then any of the other Autobots, and transforms into a pterodactyl, firing his wing mounted missile launchers that collide and explode upon Devastator’s chest.

    The last of the group lands, and looks at Devastator a moment, as if he is unsure what to do, then transforms into a brontosaurus, and begins stomping at the ground, causing the earth to shake, and a chasm to open beneath Devastator, the giant Decepticon’s legs fall through as it holds onto the sides for support.

    “Me Grimlock say you Sludge do well,” Grimlock smiles, his metal teeth glistening as he approaches Devastator.

    “Um… thanks,” the brontosaurus replies, him and the other’s helping Grimlock to surround Devastator.

    “You cannot beat the Devastator!”

    “You Devastator,” Grimlock smiles, as him and the other Dinobots transform to
    their robot mode, each pointing an energon sword at Devastator’s neck, “already

    As one, the five stab out at Devastator, piercing the titan’s armor. Explosions rock Devastator’s body, forcing him to separate into his six pieces, each falling lifelessly into the chasm.

    The humans and the Autobots cheer as one, weapons pointed high into the air.
    Prowl watches the other celebrate, Wheeljack’s group runs out of the volcano to join the celebration. Prowl turns, and walks into the Ark, head hanging.

    “Penny for your thoughts,” Flint offers, running up next to Prowl.

    “We just won a major victory,” Prowl states solemnly.

    “So why aren’t you happier?”

    “Cause I know things are going to get worse before they get better.”

    “Hello?” comes a voice from Teletran One, “is anyone out there? Is my brother Spike there?”

    “Buster!” Flint yells, reaching Teletran before Prowl, “this is a secure line, how’d you get access to it?”

    “We were attacked Faireborn sir. Destro attacked headquarters with Decepticon help.”

    Prowl signals for the others to come in as Buster continues his transmission.

    “It’s just me and Hinton here sir. Everyone else was killed or captured. Hinton is seriously hurt sir… there is a lot of blood… I don’t know what else to do for him.”

    “We’re sending help kid,” Jazz interrupts, approaching Teletran One, “Hang in there, we’re sending help.”

    “What was that you were saying about things getting worse Prowl?” Flint asks, waving for Lady Jaye.
  7. Phoenix Prime

    Phoenix Prime Well-Known Member

    Sep 29, 2004
    Trophy Points:
    Chapter 7: Eye of the Storm

    Spike grinds his teeth as he pilots his cloak Skye Hawk back to U.E.R.A. base. Destro and the Decepticons, working together. His brother almost lost to him. Countless friends and comrades, dead; Spike was looking forward to seeing Destro again, so he could bash Destro’s tin-plated face.

    “Keep it tight Spike,” comes Lady Jaye over the comm unit, “you’re starting to drift out of formation.”

    “Sorry Ma’am,” Spike states, coming back to his senses. He looks at the radar; sure enough he was completely out of formation with the others. He, Scarlett, Lady Jaye, Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were assigned as the rescue crew while the U.E.R.A.’s two Skye Ravens along with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker provide support.

    “We’re coming up on final approach people,” Lady Jaye announces, “I will go into the hangar first, I want Bumblebee and Cliffjumper in next, then Spike and Scarlett. Understood?”

    There comes back agreement from all as Lady Jaye dives into a mountain side that opens wide, inviting her inside.

    She immediately spots Buster and Hinton waiting for her, Buster trying to hold Hinton up.

    “Roadblock!” she shouts as she lands, opening the canopy before she comes to a full stop, “What happened? Destro?”

    “They came and beat us up; Destro did it up!” Hinton states, as Bumblebee and Cliffjumper land and transform.

    “Cliffjumper, airlift Roadblock back to the Ark ASAP for medical attention.”

    “Without a problem,” Cliffjumper states, transforming back to his Skye Hawk mode and opening his canopy as Spike and Scarlett join them.

    Bumblebee lifts Hinton carefully, setting him gently into the cockpit.

    “You too Buster,” Spike orders, “you are not staying here.”

    “But bro!” Buster whines, “I wanna help!”

    Spike looks at his brother a moment, “I need to know you are safe to do my job, please, go with Cliffjumper.”


    Without further argument, Buster boards Cliffjumper as well. It is a tight fit for both humans, but they manage, and Cliffjumper takes off.

    “Alright,” Lady Jaye states, taking out one of javelins from its holster, “We gotta search for any other survivors. Bumblebee, go infrared.”

    Starscream watches the scene before him, with great amusement. Vortex, in his new Destro Dominator form, hovers above Cobra Island, controlling a small tornado before him with his helicopter propellers. Caught within the tornado, the broken body of General Abernathy spins around and around, his screams lost in the sound of the wind.

    “Having fun yet flesh bag?!” Vortex mocks, slowing the tornado, allowing Abernathy to drop like a stone.

    Destro approaches, and lifts his prisoner’s chin up, so the two face.

    “You must see this is pointless Hawk. Your fighting me is for nothing,” Destro proclaims.

    Abernathy lashes out, catching Destro in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

    Vortex laughs as he transforms into robot mode, and seizes the General, “Looks like he still got some fight in him.”

    “Take him to the brig,” Destro demands, composing himself, “I will deal with him later.”

    “Are we finally ready to deal with the real problem,” Onslaught demands, “Megatron?”

    “How goes it Shockwave?” Megatron requests.

    Megatron walks into Shockwave’s vast laboratory, Alpha Trion’s unconscious form floats lifelessly in a tube of liquid, wires and devices attached all over him, Shockwave looking up from a computer screen.

    “Slowly,” Shockwave admits, “since the old Autobot refused to help us in unlocking the Matrix of his own free will, I am attempting to hack his systems. Hacking them is easy enough, his outdated technology is no match for my equipment, but it is all encrypted and in an ancient dialect I am unfamiliar with. I have only been able to verify one piece of information.”

    “Which is?”

    “He ‘believes’ that only one chosen to wield it, can unlock its power.”

    “That is absurd!” Megatron shouts, “All scans of the Matrix proves its systems are compatible with any Transformers operating system! I do not believe that some ancient God decides who can’t and who can wield it. It must be some sort of password or program that allowed Prime to use it. I must know what it is! And it is locked within this old ‘bot’s systems!”

    “I agree with you,” Shockwave states, “the problem is discovering the key.”

    The lab door slides open, allowing Soundwave to walk in.

    “What is it Soundwave?” Megatron asks.

    “Communication, lost with Constructicons, lost with Insecticons,” the monotone voice of the blue transformer states.

    “WHA?!” Megatron screams, “Gather every available Seeker, I will lead the attack on the Ark myself!”

    The Ark is silent. Every man, woman, and Autobot aboard has a single thought on their mind, UERA Base, and the lives lost.

    Jazz types across Teletran-1, trying to scan for wherever Destro and his Decepticon allies could be, with no luck.

    Without warning, a red Skye Hawk comes screeching in.

    “Gang Way! His vitals are gone!” Cliffjumper screams, landing before Ratchet who has been tending to damage on the bridge, and opens his canopy.

    “Please help,” Buster yells, jumping out, “Hinton is dying!”

    With a gentle touch, Ratchet reaches in, and picks up the bleeding body of Hinton, and places him gently on his trailer, a human size stretcher already prepared.

    “I’m on it,” Ratchet starts, the tips of two of his fingers folding away revealing dozens of smaller repair arms inside each. The arms stretch out, quickly going into surgery.

    “How?” Buster sniffs, tears rolling down his face, “How does he know how to take care of him?”

    Cliffjumper transforms and kneels next to Buster, “Ratchet downloaded everything he could on human medical science that was available to us. Your friend is in the best of hands.”

    “Buster,” Flint calls, walking up to the small boy, Buster almost tackles the man, hugging and crying.

    “I am sorry sir!” Buster whines.

    “For what?” Flint asks.

    “I couldn’t do anything, I was scared, and I ran, and didn’t come out until it was quiet. I could hear everyone screaming, and dying, and I couldn’t do anything but hide.”

    “That is not your fault Buster,” Flint states, “You made it out alive, we can’t ask for more of you.”

    Buster sniffles a little before stepping back, “It was Cobra sir. The Decepticons Destro had with him, had Cobra symbols on their vehicle modes.”

    “JAZZ!” Flint screams, “Concentrate your scans over the Indian ocean, 52 miles west of the southern most tip of India!”

    “Cobra Island,” Beachhead whispers.

    “Bingo,” Jazz smiles, “There is a large complex right there… and now its not…what is going on?”

    “It must have submerged,” Flint states, jumping up onto Teletran’s keyboard, “it must’ve gone under the waves again, but that is where we will find anyone Destro took prisoner.”

    “Then that,” a voice comes from the entrance states, “is where we are going first.”

    “Elita One?” Jazz gasps, spotting the female Autobot.

    She stands there, wobbly on her own legs, cracked, dented, leaking lubricant, but somehow, frightening to look at. Behind her, dozens of Autobots, all armed, and glad to see their comrades alive.

    “You look like the pit,” Jazz states, hurrying over to her, “We need to get you to Teletran for repairs.

    Elita meets him halfway, “Fine. Since everyone is dead set on giving me repair time, I will take it, but I need a new alt form too.”

    Jazz walks her over to Teletran, punches in a few controls, and the image of a reverse wing, earth jet pops on the screen, its wings littered with missiles.

    “I’ll take it.”

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