Ayyyyyyyy back at it again with another legiiiit food review. Are the new McDonalds McTaster's McTasty enough for this donald? Let's peep this out.


But yeah, so happy to be back at this. I hope anyone still reading is young enough to still read small text!  

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Chapter Fifteen: Boy is this Awkward
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“They haven’t reported back.” Apache knelt, head hung low. “I expect the worst.”

“Don’t,” Scourge said, shifting on his heels. “It’s not the Autobots’ style. They’ll capture or push them back, but won’t kill. Not unless necessary.”

“Are you so certain?” Apache opened his eyes, but did not raise his head. “Our warriors are of fierce spark. What if it was ‘necessary?’”

“Then it only proves what I saw in them was real.” Scourge began to pace. “I am anxious, Apache. Oh so anxious.”

“Send me.”

“No, I need someone I can trust near by.” Scourge said. “Besides, they’ll come to us soon enough. The time for stalling is nearly over, and my mouth figuratively waters at the prospect of this all coming to fruition.” Scourge linked his fingers and sighed. “So much work lies ahead. Savour these moments of calm.”

“As you wish.” Apache bowed even lower.

“And lift your head.” Scourge said. “Your humility speaks of your devotion, but you practically prostrate yourself before me as if I am more than mortal, an insult I won’t abide.” Apache was on his feet in the blink of an eye. “We are all mortal. Never forget that.” Scourge waved Apache away, and turned to look at the thing before him. “Ganymede” as it apparently called itself. Scourge assumed the name either referred to the Earthen character of myth, or the cosmic body of immense size. Either one amused him as he held his hands akimbo, hovering just off the techno-organic computer’s eerily complicated surface. This thing, hand-made by intelligent life, was itself intelligent and self-aware enough to realise it’s own importance. The ramifications of this discovery had fascinated Scourge nearly as much as it’s abilities. He ran the very tips of his clawed fingers across it’s surface so lightly it could barely be said to be contact at all. Nevertheless the customary shock to his body showed the mind had clearly not given up on resisting him. Anger swelled only momentarily within him, and he felt his body begin to react reflexively. But the calm had returned. It was nothing compared to the pain he had to endure for this body, or the pain the planet itself would feel.

“Why do you resist me, even when your own has already seen my point of view?” Scourge asked it, sincerely. He immediately received a brief, violent vision of himself being torn apart, complete with accompanying sensation of pain and helplessness. Scourge hardly flinched during the momentary nightmare. These were Ganymede’s choice of spiteful rebellion, but they were entirely surface level. A layman’s idea of suffering. Scourge knew this was the best it could do without probing his mind for his true fears and anguish, and he knew why it wouldn’t go that far. Eventually it would wear down, or give in, and then Scourge would have his opportunity. But eventually may be too far away. His only opposition was the Autobots, and they were ostensibly knocking at the door. The old him wouldn’t have considered them a threat, but Scourge swore to never underestimate an enemy again, not with the stakes as high as they were.

“Quiet contemplation?” A voice from above said softly. “Or just brooding?”

“Is there a difference?” Scourge said.

“I once knew a ‘bot who said the same thing, but trust me-” A winged creature hung upside down from the ceiling of the old temple shrine, it’s jagged leathery wings casting erratic shadows as they blocked the one light source above. “There’s a difference. One is introspection, one is postulating. Though I know better to assume you’re anything but the former.”

“Sarcasm?” Scourge chuckled.

“I know better than that, as well.”

“You should try talking to it.” Scourge said. “It still doesn’t like me very much.”

“It doesn’t like me either.” The creature skulked back out of the light. “I think it’s just more... passive-aggressive towards me. More bark than bite. But trust me, it’ll come around once we have the Autobots.”

“This attitude of it's is frustrating.” Scourge sighed.

“Like a child, in a way. But even more like a child, the more you try to bend it to your will, the more it resists.”

“But eventually it will snap.” Scourge said.

“Eventually may be too far away.”

“We are like-minded.” Scourge turned to face the shadowy beast above. “Prepare the welcoming committee.”

*****​

“What a mess.” Ironhide said, bolting bracers onto Road Rage’s hands.

“Sorry.” She said, flipping her patched fists into her arms on their transformation joint. “What about you? Last time I saw you this dented was when we crash landed from low orbit.”

“This? This is nothing.” Ironhide rocked his joints around to show his full mobility. “Armour’s not worth being armour if it doesn’t take the hit for you. But you,” He pointed to her own tattered chassis. “You’re gonna be scrap sooner than later.”

Road Rage shrugged emphatically. Ironhide crossed his arms in frustration. He looked at Optimus trying to coax Jetfire into settling down. Botanica was looking after Spiral while Convoy stood away from it all, seemingly distraught. He walked over to the girls watching the commotion as Jetfire tried to leave the building.

“He’s going ballistic.” Spiral said, trying to stand. “Shouldn’t you do something?”

“I will once I finish your repairs.” Botanica forced her back down onto the ground. “Nobody gets thrown through a wall and just walks it off.”

“For the last time, I’m fine. Just go and help Opti-” Spiral seized as Botanica crossed the wrong wires.

“Oops.” She said with questionable sincerity. “See what happens when you squirm?”

“I could finish up for you while out figure out what ails the old man.” Ironhide offered. “I’ve got basic field repair training. Fusing broken circuits, rewiring damaged nodes, etcetera. Trust me, before you showed up I was the closest thing the three of us had to a medic for years.” Botanica hesitated, then shrugged.

“I’ll leave it to you, then.” She hovered over to Optimus whilst Ironhide sat behind Spiral and picked up where she left off. His large fingers didn’t make things easy, so he took it slow.

“She doesn’t even extend basic courtesy anymore.” Spiral said. “I swear this whole mess has just made her more single-minded. It’s like all she cares about is her fake brain boyfriend and we’re all just distractions or tools in her path.”

“I think that’s a little unfair.” Ironhide said.

“When was the last time she even spoke directly to you?” Spiral looked over her shoulder to him. “Not that she ever picked up much on your moves before.” Spiral thought a moment, then shrugged. “But when said “moves” are barely more than reflexive vibrations, I can hardly blame her…”

“Hey, shut up.” Ironhide murmured.

“Come on big guy, you’ve gotta be less of a shut-in. You’re an excellent best friend, and that’s because you so rarely ever take action. But nobody’s gonna hold your hand and lead you to that-” She pointed to Botanica. “-You’ve gotta walk this path your self, as the old saying goes.”

“If it’s not Ganymede it’s… someone else.” Ironhide shrugged. “I don’t register to her in that way. I’d rather not wreck things up.”

“Why is it you’ll jump on a grenade without a moment’s hesitation for someone else, but won’t bother saying a few words for your own sake?” Spiral asked.

“You’d be surprised which is scarier.”

“So your afraid?”

Ironhide said nothing, he just finished the repairs and closed up her back access panel with a firm pat. “You’re all good.”

“All I’m saying is-” Spiral began, pausing to compile her thoughts. “This…. Quest or whatever we’re on, it’s dangerous. Scourge, he’s killed a lot of people already, and we’re literally about to run head-first into the dragon’s den. If anything bad happens, do you want it to happen with ambiguity and regret? Or do you want to meet destiny with a smile on your face?”

“Ha!” Ironhide laughed. “I don’t have a mouth to smile with.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You make a convincing argument. Since when did you become a philosopher?”

“About time the idea that we may not all actually survive this cropped into my head.” The two fell silent. The mortality of their situation, exacerbated by the death and foreboding around them, was sinking in. Ironhide felt like his insides were a solid mass weighing him down. He looked up to see Spiral with a similar look of melancholy, and she held up her hand. He accepted, and the two inverted their handshake into a firm grasp.

“We’re surviving this.” Ironhide said. “We’ve gotten through worse.”

“That we have. But still-” Spiral nodded behind her. “…sooner, rather than later, old friend.”

“Holy shit!” They heard Ruiner scream from the center of the room, and both let out a chuckle at the break in dramatic tension it offered. Ruiner was dodging swings from Jetfire’s sword, the giant Decepticon was going berserk.

“Uh oh.” Spiral said as the two ran over to try and help.

“Stay back!” Optimus ordered, halting them in their tracks.

“It’s sympathetic transference.” Botanica explained. “Jetfire has, somehow, picked up on the transmitted mental wave types of the captured warriors. My theory is that his older technology is more sensitive, versus our newer receivers and systems that filter out the lower methods of communication. In order to avoid picking up on other robots' brain waves, our sensors are usually set to tune them out. His lacks sufficient discrimination and he’s somehow hearing them.”

"Whoa, like telepathy?" Ruiner said. "Why would anyone ever want to get rid of that ability?"

"Less telepathy, more like mental static." Botanica said. "He doesn't hear their thoughts, more like their moods or feelings."

“Worse, they’re in pain.” Optimus said. “And he can’t hear us through it all, so he doesn’t know what’s going on, and it’s making-” Optimus nearly lost his head as Jetfire swung his sword towards him. “It’s making him think he’s going delusional.”

“Of course, he could also just be going delusional.” Ruiner quipped, Optimus shooting him a glare. “What?” He’s like a billion years old or summit, I’m just saying maybe this was inevitable!”

“Ruiner’s not entirely wrong-” Botanica likewise received a look of disgust from Optimus. “What I’m saying is, Jetfire’s delicate mental faculties are under enough strain. This picking up on what is basically thoughts of horror may be too much for him to handle.”

“Then how do we stop him?” Optimus asked.

“We incapacitate him.” Convoy approached, energy pooled in the palm of his hand, and he outstretched it to fire. Optimus shoved him aside, the disc-like blast firing up towards the ceiling, raining dust and debris down on the captured and unconscious beast Transformers that had attacked them.

“The hell is wrong with you!?” Optimus said.

“I wasn’t going to kill him, just disable him.”

“With freaking plasma fire?” Optimus explained. “How’d you even do that? I thought you had a different gun?”

“I have a few weapons systems built-in for situations like these.” Convoy explained.

“You’ve had to pacify a giant angry old person with a sword before?” Ruiner asked. “Because otherwise I don’t think you could have predicted a situation like this.”

“Every moment we aren’t pursuing Scourge just makes the threat greater.” Convoy said. “Sorry to undermine you authority, Optimus, but we can’t waste time trying to lull your giant infant to sleep.”

“We can’t pursue, not yet, look at us! We’re all at our limits, Road Rage is in tatters, Nightbird disappeared, Botanica’s weaponless, and the rest of us are barely scraping by as it is!” Optimus felt the gaze of his team-mates on him, and turned to see their various looks of defeat. Road Rage looked down, ashamed, and even Botanica looked hopeless. Optimus had basically said they were screwed at a time where what they really needed was a leader with confidence.

“I mean…” Optimus rubbed his neck. “We’re just… we need to pace ourselves, and…”

“Scourge has the upper hand.” Convoy said, calmly. “The longer we wait, the more time he has towards his endgame, whatever that is, and to prepare for us.” Convoy stood before Optimus, practically looming over him. Optimus hadn’t noticed he was so tall, a full head advantage on him. “Allow me to lead a group to scout ahead, whilst the more injured wait for Nightbird.”

“You want to take command.” Optimus looked up at him. “Just like that?”

“I’ll take Ruiner and Ironhide.” Convoy said, leaning in. “A small scouting party. He knows the lay of the land, we could set up an ambush, or at the very least accurately ascertain the enemy’s strength.” Optimus resented Convoy. He had been so quiet, so in the background, and now at the first show of weakness, he was asserting himself. But what Optimus hated more was that he was right. He looked to Jetfire, still panicking, with Botanica and Road Rage trying to coax him into submission. Road Rage’s arms ended in nubs, her armour was clawed up. Botanica’s hips were jagged and blackened from her weapons exploding. Convoy was right, and it was Optimus‘ fault.

“Alright.” Optimus acquiesced.

“You two, with me.” Convoy pointed to his chosen Autobots, then addressed Ruiner specifically. “You lived here once, yes?”

“Oh yeah.” Ruiner gave a thumbs up. “Yeah this was home base, where I hung the old hat, my hoo-hacienda, Ruiner HQ, the one-stop-spot-for-”

“Alright alright,” Convoy cut him off. “Are their any secret passages or paths we can use to approach the temple above? Something Scourge’s beasts wouldn’t know about.”

“Dude, this is a monetary in the mountains devoted to the hypocratic practice of warfare in the name of peace that’s stood for a millennia eschewing the modern world in favour of preserving the olden ways, if we didn’t have secret pathways I’d have quit way before I was ever exiled.” Ruiner transformed. “Let’s rock and roll out, off-roaders.”

“I’m coming, too.” Spiral said. “I am not missing out of any action.”

“There’s not going to be action, just surveillance.” Convoy said.

“Well I’ll survey then. I want to do something, is my point.”

“Your size and speed are ideal for scouting.” Convoy said. “Very well.”

“Sweet!” She transformed as well, Ruiner pulling up alongside.

“In that case,” Ruiner’s engine purred. “We’ll have to take the pathways that let us ride side-to-side. They tighten up a bit as you go however, that’s why I like to call them “intimacy way.””

“I changed my mind, I’m not going if he’s gonna be like this.” Spiral reversed.

“Alright, fine.” Ruiner said. “I guess we’ll take the other path, it only let’s you single-file. “Passive-aggressive loneliness road” as the ancients called it.” Convoy and Ironhide transformed, and the four left through the rear doors. Optimus cursed himself for his outburst. He was better than that, but all he could think about anymore was survival. The primal, immediate sense of self-preservation, and it was impacting his ability to plan ahead. He thought about Sky-Byte’s final words, his sacrifice, and couldn’t tell if he was worried about honouring that, or was just plain scared. He snapped out of it when Botanica placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s calming down,” She said, Jetfire rocked back and forth on his knees behind them. “I think it would help if you spoke to him.”

“Right.” Optimus said. He was just turning to see Jetfire when he noticed the incapacitated beasts they’d tied up with his cable. Icebird, the one he’d fought in the drifts, had his eyes open. Optimus was about to warn everyone when he leaped forward, transforming into his owl mode, and slashed with his talons. Optimus saw the razor-sharp hooks head straight for his face, when Jetfire stepped in front of him, taking the blow. The claws tore into his back, shredding the metal and wires, and the giant collapsed beside him. Optimus dropped to his knees to aid Jetfire, but Icebird quickly swatted him away with his wing, transforming into his bear form and placing a massive paw on Jetfire’s head, his claws scratching the old ‘bot’s visor. Road Rage was already charging towards him when a globule of green goop struck her and engulfed her, the lizard/dragonfly creature stood in robot form, green slime dripped from it’s mouth. Botanica could do nothing before the shark/bird held out it’s blade to her throat.

“Excellent work, Icebird.” It said. “You were wise to advise us to watch and wait. Sky Shadow-” It addressed the slime-spewing mech. “Dispatch the red one then warn our forces of their scouting party.”

“Airhammer, I truly thought you’d never ask!” Sky Shadow transformed into a assemblage of his two forms, a bug-winged lizard with a dragonfly’s tail. He approached Road Rage, who struggled. Her eyes were bright blue slits, and she practically growled in anger. The noises she made were primal, to the point where even Sky Shadow took pause before smirking at the futility of it all. He looked to Airhammer. “She’s a lively one, no wonder Scourge said these…” Sky Shadow looked at Airhammer. “What’s that?” Airhammer tracked Sky Shadow’s gaze down to his midsection, where a green blade protruded out of him. The blade pulled up, slicing through his torso past his head, causing his bladed arm to drop from Botanica’s throat. The blade pulled free, nearly bisecting him as he fell over, crying out in pain. Nightbird stood behind him, hefting a aqua-green sword larger than herself with great strain. The sword’s blade was sharp at the end, but thick and covered in technological detail etchings. Though clearly affected by it’s weight, she held it with professionalism, like it was something she‘d always done.

“Sorry I took so long,” She said. “I just could not remember where I put this.”

 

YAY!!! GIANT SWORDS!!!

 

Loving your characterization as always. Especially Ruiner for being something of a dickbag, and of course the old crew and their own insecurities. I also haven't been able to say how much I adore some of your world-building here, like the concept of pre-historic Cybertronians being capable of attaining far more complex forms, as well as the simplicity of your origin story. Really glad you're still working on this. I sometimes worry this will turn out like Tyranny and Peace and get dropped someplace in the middle, so it's always good to see an update.

 

Ugh, Tyranny and Peace. That was, like, my ultimate fear realised. From now on, I post as I write it, and don't "backlog" anything. That way at worst I lose a chapter and not 50% of the entire story. Still would love to see what comes back to me, once this is finished, obviously.

As for your other comments, thank you so much!   I was hoping someone would pick up on those tidbits. And yes, Omnidrive, can't have an Energon Nightscream homage and not reference the toy's positively gigantic sword.  

 

EDIT: That awkward moment when you copy the text before you proof-read, but magically expect all your fixes to carry over. This one's a bit long, fair warning:

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Chapter Sixteen: Amicability​

Nightbird dragged her fingers along the long hallway wall, musing over the fact that despite her entire life spent here, she’d never actually touched these walls. She’d walked the hallways, but never touched this spot, or that spot. Of course she’d never had any reason to, but it was still odd to think someplace she’d known so well, she’d never come into contact with every inch of it. And now it was empty. Dead and empty. Each door she passed once held the private quarters of a fellow warrior. A neighbour, a friend, a comrade. Brothers and sisters raised to fight, and kill, for each other, and to preserve Cybertron’s history. She stopped at one, and looked in. It wasn’t her destination, but she couldn’t help visiting her old room. Away from the Autobots, and their constant noise, the melancholy tone of the situation was becoming harder and harder to ignore. As she stared silently at her old abode, she remembered her time spent in meditation, in practice, studying the ancient arts. She remembered one night long ago, how she was perfecting her form with two blades. She’d grasped single-sword combat immediately, but keeping her form and stance with two swords eluded her for years. She was on the brink of perfecting it, joints aching from the repeated motions, her hands had seized up from holding the swords for so long. Real progress was on the brink, and then he barged in.

“Hello-hoh!” Nightfire sang. “Hope I’m not interrupting?”

“You are.” Nightbird said, trying to regain her focus.

“Well good,” He barged in and grabbed her weapons trunk. He dragged it across the floor, the metal on metal screeching and grinding so loud the entire monastery wing could hear it. Nightbird groaned in frustration and gave up, tossing her swords onto her meditation bed. She looked to him. “What do you want?”

“I gotchu something…” Nightfire said, popping open his chest compartment and taking out a small black cube. He held it out in his palm, waving it back and forth to entice her. Nightbird knelt down to examine it.

“What is it?’

“It’s a puzzle game!” He said, fumbling with it. “Just, hold on… there!” He clasped it a certain way and a single white square appeared on the top. He pressed it, and it disappeared, but more squares appeared elsewhere. He pressed them, and the same thing happened. “See? The goal is to make the whole square white. It’s freaking hard, but fun. I know you like puzzles, so…” He dropped it in her hands.

“Where’d you get this?” Nightbird continued where he left off. “This is contraband, you know that right?” The templar, in their quest to honour old warrior ways, eschewed most personal effects or anything not devoted to martial arts or weapons. Things like games or pastimes were strictly prohibited. The most Nightbird had ever seen was an old game involving carved tablets, and it wasn’t particularly engaging.

“Well…” Nightfire hummed. “I bought it.”

“From whom?”

“A vendor… in the city.” Nightfire jumped as Nightbird stood up quickly.

“You left the grounds?” She said, aghast. “You went to the city!?”

“Hey!” Nightfire encouraged her to lower her voice, and kicked her door closed with his foot. “Yeah, I did.”

“That’s strictly forbidden!” She said. “You could be thrown in the stockade, or worse, sent to the wastes.”

“Yeah, but…” He sat down on the floor, Nightbird joining him. “You should see it out there, ‘Bird! It’s amazing. This?” He held up the puzzle cube. “Is nothing. A toy for freshforms. There’s all kinds of things. The robots there come in so many shapes and sizes. There’s ships everywhere, the buildings are tall and sparkling. It’s picturesque, like a fantasy world! It doesn’t snow because there‘s no clouds, and at night you can see into space. And that’s just the city.” Nightfire opened his chest again, and retrieved a crystalline rock. It’s facets were incredibly intricate and multicoloured, and the light from their eyes reflected off and through it in a prism effect. Nightbird was enamoured. “This?” He continued. “This is a rock. I found it in a park. They just grow out of the ground there. Even something as mundane as a rock is more amazing than here. And apparently there’s stuff like this all over the planet. There’s valleys filled with clouds like carry electricity and light up, regions where erosion has created upside-down mountains.”

“You can’t let Nightscream see these!” Nightbird pushed the crystal and cube back onto him. “Please, take them away.”

“But I got them for you!” He said. “I had a blast out there. These are souvenirs I got to show you.”

“But why would you bring me these and risk punishment?”

“Because, stupid, I want you to come with me next time!”

“Next time?” Nightbird said. “Wait… how many times have you left the monastery?”

“Just once…” Nightfire shrugged. “Or twice, y’know…”

“This is a grave breach of protocol.” Nightbird said. “Not to mention your oath.”

“Don’t lord that over me!” He said, suddenly indignant. “I don’t remember having much say in the matter. Neither of us did.”

“I was Protoformed here.” Nightbird said.

“Exactly my point.” Nightfire picked up her hands, trying to be sincere. “Come with me, just once. We’ll be out and back before anyone notices we’re gone. We’ll say we’re going to meditate on the frozen peaks so no one goes looking for us.”

“We can’t!” Nightbird stood, her tone authoritative. “If we got caught-”

“We won’t get caught,” Nightfire stood as well. “I didn’t, after all. There’s a path in the ice that opens up this time of year that leads straight down to Shearrock Valley. We could drive the entire way, a few days trip at the most.”

“It’s less about the legality of it and more a matter of respect.” Nightbird said. “It would be dishonourable to go against Nightscream’s wishes.”

“Nightscream only made those stupid rules to keep us out of danger ‘cuz he thinks we‘re all weaker than he is, but trust me, the modern world is as dangerous as a carnival.” He playfully tapped her shoulder with the back of his knuckle. “Besides, we’re tough enough for anything down there.”

“What’s a carnival?” Nightbird asked.

“Come with me and I‘ll show you.” Nightfire extended his hand to shake, his eyes wide with anticipation. He didn’t have a mouth, but Nightbird knew he was grinning like a loon. She mulled it over, her expression blasé to hide her apprehension, and accepted. They shook hands.

“Excellent!” Nightfire said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “We blow this pop stand tomorrow at dawn. Pack essentials and make sure to tell them you’ll be up in the peaks for a few days- Actually, no, say a week.” He skipped out of her room, pointing at her repeatedly whilst making nondescript noises of excitement. “Try not to stay up all night in giddy anticipation!” Nightbird said nothing as he closed the door behind her. She didn’t sleep, either, even though her nightly diagnostic said her intercoolers were in the yellow. As she sat cross-legged on her small silicate bed, completely motionless, she wondered if she’d make a mistake, then picked up the puzzle cube Nightfire had left on her stand. She played with it, hoping to tire herself out. It was amusing yet frustrating as remembering all the patterns was difficult, and tried to think of the last time she did anything recreational. Usually the only “fun” she had was talking to Nightfire or maintaining her weapons. She used to find catharsis in the firing range, but eventually she became such a good shot, even on the obstacle course, it bored her. Nightfire was right, her skills were honed as such that she deliberately tried more complicated, less practical styles merely for the challenge and variety. So it certainly wasn’t fear that made her reprehensive. At least not fear of harm. The puzzle eventually took it’s toll and she drifted off into standby, much to the relief of her subsystems, and dreamed of abstract, unfocused surroundings she subconsciously knew was her idea of the outside world, but in her aberrant dream state couldn’t focus into anything recognizable. She awoke and hour before dawn, as usual, and after her morning routine, found Nightfire cockily leaned against the wall adjacent her door, much to her bemusement.

“Ready?” He said smarmily.

“Don’t be so arrogant about it.” She said, holstering her weapons. She wondered how she’d explain taking weapons to meditation.

“Tell ‘em we’re going to spar a little up there.” Nightfire said. “Also, I’m not arrogant, just happy- And excited- for you. You‘re about to experience what I experienced on my first time.”

“You talk up the outside world enough and eventually no matter what it won’t live up to the expectations you’ve planted in me.”

“Might as well keep your mouth plate down, because you’re going to be eating those words.” He said. Nightbird pulled up her pleated purple facemask, and placed her beloved sais on her arms.

“You’re incorrigible.” She said, then lightened her tone. “Maybe if you spent less time talking and more time training, your wit wouldn’t be sharper than your skills.”

“Someone call animal control, the teacher’s pet got out again!” Nightfire exclaimed.

“That’s the real flaw in your plan,” Nightbird said. ‘If we tell them we’re going to spar they’ll never believe us. Everyone knows you’re no match for me.”

“Just wait until we get to the arcades. I’ll challenge you to Legacy of the Primes.” Nightfire explained. “It’s a historical-ish game based on true events, which is why you’d like it. But it’s full of inaccuracies, gratuitous violence and bombastic action, which is why I like it.” The two bickered on as they left the monastery, politely bowing to the sentries, and quickly peeled off the path to the frozen peaks to Nightfire’s secret passage down the mountain. Nightbird transformed into her hovering coupe mode, and Nightfire assumed his dragster mode. Nightscream had criticised him for his flashy vehicle design and audacious flame patterns in his youth, but even the elderly warrior conceded that his chosen form was one of the fastest in the Templar. Nightscream never compromised on the flames, however, much to Nightfire's chagrin.

“How’s about a race?” He asked, but Nightbird was already speeding down, Nightfire accusing her of being unfair as he struggled to close the gap. The two enjoyed an otherwise leisurely drive until they cleared the snowy alpines and made it to the more typical rocky metal hills and valleys. Nightbird appreciated the history seen in the jutting cliff sides, their striped layers of different minerals told the tale of eons of gradual build-up, only for a long forgotten tectonic disturbance to expose it all. She realised now that she’d officially travelled farther from the monastery than she’d ever been. Eventually, she saw a small building. It was rustic and simple, with lots of exposed mechanics on the sides. Unknown gas drifted up from pipes on the roof, and a large dirty vehicle of some kind was parked out front.

“We’ll stop here for a spell.” Nightfire said, the two rolling up to the establishment and reverting to robot mode. Just as they were about to enter the door swung open, and a large robot stumbled out. Nightbird had her sword drawn as Nightfire urged her to sheath it. The large ‘bot was unlike any she’d met. Portly, rusted, it’s limbs made of heavy treads, and some kind of jagged plough on it’s back. It stood up groggily, bashfully nodding to them both before stumbling and waddling away. Nightfire shrugged. “Guess he had a little too much.”

“He was inebriated?” She observed. “How uncouth.”

“Nah, he’s just a shlubby working class drone who’s had a hard day’s work. These are the people of Cybertron, Nightbird. The everybot, the average, the indulgent.” He said.

“Isn’t one of the paths to malfunction over-indulgence?” She said in reference to Primus’ virtues, the scripture they were all taught.

“If Primus were real,” Nightfire said, Nightbird noting his use of the word ‘if.’ “Then I’m pretty sure he’d cut a poor dirt-hauler like him some slack in the afterlife.”

“It’s less about the literal history and more about the values they hold." Nightbird challenged him. Nightfire crossed his arms.

“Look, don’t complain when you’ve just seen one ‘bot. Come inside and bathe in the local colour.” He walked in, Nightbird following. The place was, to her, seedy and unkempt. Various other working-class-looking robots sat in various booths around what she now understood to be some kind of bar or inn. Nevertheless, nobody seemed that hostile or uncivilized, just… average as he’d said. Nightfire plopped himself down on a stool near the bar, Nightbird sat next to him. The robot working there was stout, also fairly working-class in appearance, with heavy set features and an apathetic expression.

“We only got one workin’ fuel pump.” She said, looking at both Nightfire and Nightbird. “An’ it costs double to share.”

“Not to worry.” Nightfire said as Nightbird pulled down her facemask, attempting as natural a smile as she could. It apparently didn’t work however, as the bartender merely sneered in response, flipping over the fuel pump for Nightfire and placing a glass in front of Nightbird.

“What’ll it be?” She asked.

“Something easy for her and something… difficult for me.” Nightfire said, rubbing his hands together. The bartender poured unidentified fuel into Nightbird’s glass, Nightfire picking his preferred drink from the pump before plugging the tattered hose into his chest port. Nightbird drank the mysterious ooze and winced. It had a vile flavour with a choking aftertaste.

“How… modern.” She gagged, Nightfire laughing at her expense.

“Yup, this is modern alright.” He likewise contorted slightly as his body fought against the fuel it took in. “Just wait until you start burning it. That’s where the real fight begins.”

“I certainly hope not all the outside world is so uncooperative as it’s beverages.” She said, finishing her drink. Nightfire dropped a few ornate metal pieces on the bar, the ‘bot tending scooped them up.

“Shanix,” She identified the currency. “Not from around here, huh?”

“We live closer than you’d think-” Nightfire received a jab to his side from Nightbird, along with a glare.

“You from the city?” She continued.

“Actually we were just on our way.” Nightbird took over. “A brief trip, Primus willing.”

“You two young things have fun, then.” The bartender said with a smile as she tended the next customer. The two left, Nightfire getting another slug to the shoulder.

“What was that for?” Nightfire complained. Nightbird said nothing, and Nightfire shrugged. “Well, we’ve had a sample, now let’s order the full meal.” He looked opposite the way they came, and then to the sky. “Come on, there’s something you’re gonna want to see first.” He switched modes and sped off to an incline that led away from the pitstop, Nightbird following. They returned to robot mode on the edge of a cliff, and below was a collage of lights and colours. It was like light glistening on snow, multiplied by thousands.

“That’s the city?” Nightbird asked.

“Yup.” Nightfire acted nonchalant. “At night, all the lights are on at once, and I wanted you to see it before daybreak. Isn’t it awesome?”

“It’s incredible.” Nightbird didn’t imaging a city could be so vast, the shear scale was difficult to process, as was the marvel of the different lights and shapes. They moved and twinkled like stars in the sky. The buildings, just now defined by the rising sun, were unlike anything she’d seen. Some were so tall, so ornate, they looked like decorations rather than something you could live in.

“Ready for an up-close look?” Nightfire leapt off the cliff, somersaulting into his dragster mode and landing on the slope at high speeds. Nightbird was awestruck a moment longer before following after him with similar grace. She desperately wanted a closer look, curiosity now compelling her more than ever. Anxiety over the potential of being caught was slowly slipping away, and was outright banished from her mind as they entered the city outskirts. More incredible buildings, more people, more sights, sounds, smells and transmissions threatened to overload her senses.

“Don’t get too excited yet,” Nightfire said, as if reading her mind. “This is the chump stuff, the real action is downtown. Casinos, holotheatres, combat stadiums, multidimensional polo- anyone who‘s anyone swings by at least once. So much local colour the rest of the city is greyscale by comparison!” He said. He continued his commentary all the way until they entered the busy districts. As promised, they were bristling with activity. Holographic signage, street performers, tourists not quite as enamoured as her, and noise. It was starting to wear thin, but she didn’t want to seem like a buzz-kill when Nightfire was clearly having fun. Together they sampled all facets of the civilized world. Technology, entertainment, music, things the modern world took for granted. On merchant gave Nightbird a “sample track” of music, downloaded straight to her secondary processor. She saved it for later, and joined Nightfire at one of the large combat arenas. There robots were pitted against each other in non-lethal combat. Built like warriors, Nightbird was impressed to see even those of the supposedly deteriorated outside world could possess fighting skills she could admire, even if they lacked the discipline of the Templar. The two combatants, a green and yellow ‘bot with an athletic frame, and a purple and teal Cyclops with a bruiser’s build, squared off, both succeeding and failing in different areas against their opponent. Nightbird caught herself cheering along with Nightfire and the packed stadium, sucked up by the event. It was the first time she’d ever really had fun. The fight concluded when the green ‘bot got a momentary upper hand on his heavier opponent, and pinned him. The fight was called, and the stadium erupted. The fighters respectfully parted as the green ‘bot went on to be crowned champion. Champion of what, Nightbird didn’t know or care, all she did was cheer. As the next fight was prepared, Nightfire and Nightbird headed towards the lobby to the concession stands.

“There’s something I wanna do first, I’ll only be a minute-” Nightfire paused, then turned to her. “Actually, why don’t you come along?”

“To where?” Nightbird asked. “The next fight’s about to begin.” Nightfire didn’t answer as he walked back towards the arena, ducking down a hallway off the entrance. He knocked a few times on a door marked “employees only” and a visor-eyed ‘bot with a jutting chin answered.

“Nightfire?” He said. “Well, well, well. I knew you’d be back sooner or later!” The ‘bot and Nightfire boisterously hugged and shook hands. The ‘bot saw Nightbird and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Nightbird accepted.

“Kick Off, this is Nightbird.” Nightfire said. “Nightbird, Kick Off.”

“Are you a warrior, too?” Nightbird asked.

“Ha!” Kick Off laughed. “If you mean a fighter, then no, not anymore. I’m more like a coach, these days. Those who can’t, teach, and all that.” He welcomed them in, several other fighting robots milled about what Nightbird assumed was a staging area.

“Kick Off used to be a real sparkplug back in the day.” Nightfire said.

“Jeez, you make me sound like a senior citizen.” Kick Off said. “I don’t fight ‘cuzza my ailin’ spark.”

“How is that not worse than what I said?” Nightfire asked.

“’Cuz I said it an' not you!” Kick Off laughed. “But seriously, please tell me you’re back to claim that crown a’ yours?”

“Nah, just having a casual jaunt into the city.” Nightfire shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah come on, ‘Fire, I ain’t never seen a ‘bot your weight class take on so many super heavyweights.” Kick Off looked to Nightbird. “This knucklehead ever tell you he’s the reigning middleweight champ seven seasons running?” Nightfire desperately, and non-verbally, attempted to stop Kick Off’s praise.

“I’m sorry, seasons?” Nightbird said. “How… how many times has he been here?”

“Well he shows up about once or twice a season.” Kick Off mulled over the details. “Walks away each time with his weight class’ crown. But he always stops just short of the ultimate crown.”

“I, uh…” Nightfire said “Ah, y’know, it’s nothing, really…”

“I see.” Nightbird said, shooting Nightfire a look that could kill.

“Hey, this is perfect!” Kick Off said. “Tonight’s a tag-team special! I could pair you up with Sprang or one of them.” Kick Off took a step closer and dropped his voice. “Y’know, Brimstone and Lugnutz are the opposing team.”

“God damn!” Nightfire said. “Those two mismoulded defects? How do they keep showing up?”

“Word is they were bailed out of prison.” Kick Off continued. “Apparently they got a little rough with an opponent out of the ring. But their sponsors posted their bail. It sure would be nice if someone took them down a peg. Showed them not everyone can be bullied.”

“Oooh, hoo” Nightfire revved his engine. “I would like nothing more, but my, uh, companion and I are short of time. We only have the night off, you see.”

“Son, the tag-team is the next fight.” Kick Off said. “I was in the middle of picking a substitute. The scheduled fighters are stuck halfway across Iacon ‘cuz some Decepticon scare or summit.”

“Hmmm,” Nightfire pondered, then looked to Nightbird. “Whattaya say?”

“I beg your pardon?” She said. “What do I say to what?”

“Nightbird, we could easily school these biker trash bumpkins.” Nightfire explained. “We’re Templar-trained. That’s how I’ve made the money to take you on this trip. Trust me, there’s good fighters here, but we’re of a different class. We’ll wipe the floor with ‘em!”

“That is a grievous misuse of your training!” Nightbird said. “Furthermore, you lied to me! You said you’ve only been outside once before!”

“Okay, yeah, but just because I wanted it to be a surprise!” He said. “Come on, please! One fight, that’s it. It’s not even about the money or fame, it’s about honour and discipline. These guys, Brimstone and Lugnutz, are cheats and bullies. Don’t you just hate people like that?”

“Almost as much as liars.” Nightbird said. She didn’t want to stop the night just yet, but was more than a little appalled by the blatant lies and scheming Nightfire was spinning. She had no doubt he’d planned this. But at the same time, she rarely got to fight in anything but friendly sparring matches against equally-trained Templar subjects. The chance to pit her skills against an unknown enemy with a foreign style was enticing.

“Fine.” She acquiesced.

“Great!” Nightfire said, grabbing her arm. “Because the ceremony started eight seconds ago and they’re already announcing the teams. Let’s boogie!” Nightbird sighed as he led her to the stage. They gave their names mere moments before the announcer had to speak them, and entered the ring to roaring applause. Robots of every size, shape and colour cheered them on. Nightbird filtered it all out. They were entering combat now, and all that mattered was defeating the enemy. Nightfire lapped it up, however, encouraging more and more applause. Nightbird saw their opponents. A tall, gangly blue and silver mech with thin arms, large hands, and a skull-like face. His partner was shorter, orange, and had a more typical build. A thick yellow visor concealed his eyes, leaving his exposed mouth in a neutral expression. Nightbird continued sizing them up, even after her name was called once more, and the battle counted down. The official must have started the fight, as the gangly one leapt forward, his long arm reaching out for her. In the blink of an eye he was tossed head over heels across the ring, Nightbird snapping from one direction to the other. The crowd lulled as people failed to notice just what exactly had happened. The blue ‘bot got up.

“So, you’re faster than you look.” It said cracking it‘s neck and loosening up. “Really fast. Nobody makes Brimstone look like a fool twice, though. So get read-” Cutting himself off, Brimstone lashed out with a lightning fast left hook, Nightbird moving only as much as needed to dodge. A deceitful tactic. His whip-like strikes continued with increasing ferocity, Nightbird finding she had to do more and more to dodge or block them each time. Empowered by his seemingly gaining the upper hand, Brimstone’s attacks became more bold, and Nightbird seized her chance. He kicked high, and she grabbed his ankle, slamming him down into a splits on the ring, she kicked him in the face before wrapping her leg around his head, kneeling down with it and pinning him rather painfully to the floor. He wailed in frustration. Nightfire, who likewise toyed with Lugnutz, spotted the expert takedown and let out his approximation of a low whistle.

“That’s harsh, man.” Lugnutz said. “You’re makin’ us look bad, dude and dudette.”

“Ah Luggers,” Nightfire said. “You did that all on your own. We’re just hear to hold up the mirror.” Night fire parried a swing from Lugnutz and countered with a casual backhanded knuckle to the face. Lugnutz shook his head, riled, and much like Brimstone grew more impatient and brazen, until Nightfire likewise was able to twist both his arms back behind him in a classic lock, and pinned him.

“And I’d say that’s match, ‘dude.’” Nightfire said.

“Don’t speak so soon.” Brimstone outstretched his arm, his hand contorting and folding into a spinning saw blade. He swung wildly at Nightbird and she was forced to disengage from the surprise attack. Nightfire, distracted, got a kick to his knee from Lugnutz, who also broke free. The announcer said something about “no holds bar” and Nightbird knew the rules had changed. Lugnutz grabbed a rifle from his back and took aim at Nightfire.

“Well damn, son.” Nightfire held up his hands. “Looks like it’s one of those fights.” The two extraneous pods mounted above his shoulders turned end over end, and a surprise hail of bullets shot towards Lugnutz. He dodged, an electrified barrier forming around the ring just in time to stop the rounds hitting the audience, who cheered even louder at the turn of events. Nightfire continued firing, only pausing to switch to missiles. Brimstone and Nightbird leapt around the ring dodging the exchanging ordnance. Brimstone was fully agile now, invigorated by his need to not hold back, and his gangly arms separated at various intervals, tethered together, he swung them like chains tipped with buzz saws. Nightbird was now at a range disadvantage, but reprised with a hail of throwing knives. Brimstone landed and unleashed wave after wave of blows, Nightbird drawing her sword to block the onslaught. The attacks were dizzying, relentless, and the crowd ate it up. What had seemed like honourable mock combat had morphed into a blood sport, and Nightbird was at their mercy. Brimstone switched his attacks to be sweeping strikes, and Nightbird was pushed up against the barrier, his arms stretching clear across the ring. She feigned, letting go of her sword. It hung midair for an instant as she drew her other one, knocking both of his arms away with a powerful swipe. She plucked her first sword from the air and charged at him, deflecting every now-sloppily directed counterattack he had. She rolled beneath his arms, then sprang up, slicing both clean at the “elbow.” She brought both hilts into his temples, crushing his helmet and stunning him. A roundhouse kick sent him across the ring into Lugnutz who still traded fire with Nightfire. The two enemies collided into the barrier, shocked into submission. Nightbird quickly and gracefully sheathed her swords, and extended a bow to her enemies, even if they didn’t deserve the honour. Nightfire pranced around the ring in victory. The crowd loved it all. Nightbird retreated out of the ring the instant the officials let her, a massive headache of all the noise overcoming her.

“Great job, kiddo!” Kick Off extended a hand. She tentatively shook. “Both a’ ya. I ain’t never seen the bikes schooled like that. Where are you guys even from?”

“Out of town.” Nightbird looked to Nightfire, who just now caught up. “Can we go now?”

“Awww, really?’ He said.

“I’m just… ready to return to familiar surroundings.” She turned to Kick Off. “It was an honour to meet you.”

“Honour’s all mine.” Kick Off said. “Do come back ‘round some time.” Nightbird politely bowed and took her leave, Nightfire saying his goodbyes and following.

“You gotta admit-” Nightfire said. “That gets the old spark beating. You’re seriously gonna try and tell me that wasn’t the most fun you’ve ever had?”

“It was… different.” She admitted. “I’ll say this, demonstrating my skills in public, as selfish as it sounds, filled me with pride, however…” She dropped her head slightly as she walked. “Nightscream was right. The outside world is uncultured and without honour.”

“Eh, but that’s just it, innit?” Nightfire said. “Real combatants won’t play by the rules. They’ll use tricks and fight dirty. Nightscream doesn’t teach us that very often now does he? Not everyone honours the old ways like you do.”

“You mean like we do?” Nightbird said. Nightfire didn’t acknowledge, instead the two left the city, and returned towards the mountains. He small talked, of course, but didn’t ever respond to her correction. Nightbird thought to herself, honestly, that she had enjoyed the outing. The outside world was a myriad of things, and she had only sampled it. Deep down, she wanted to stay, but she could practically see the look of disappointment on Nightscream’s face if she didn’t return. They gradually scaled the mountain, wary of how the darkness made the path just a bit more treacherous. They approached the monastery from the side, and decided to walk their way back.

“Welp, home sweet home.” Nightfire said. “Meditating sure is hard stuff, ain’t it?” Nightbird didn’t acknowledge his blatant facetiousness, instead she drew her sword to the person who’d be following them.

“So…” Brimstone said, emerging from the fog, his arms repaired with obvious replacement parts. “This is where you live? Pretty ritzy for someone like you.”

“Oh, shit.” Nightfire said, realising the gravity of the situation.

“Whoa, bro.” Lugnutz said, flanked by about a dozen more thuggish biker bots. “Groovy digs. Almost a shame we’re gonna have to trash the place.”

“You made a big mistake humiliating us.” Brimstone said. “A big mistake.”

“As have you.” A tall, dark ‘bot stepped forward from behind Nightbird and Nightfire. He was broad-shouldered, patchwork areas of damage across his body. Flat wings adorned his back, and his green eyes etched beams of light into the fog in front of his scarred face.

“This your bodyguard or something?” Brimstone laughed, his entourage laughing along with him.

“You don’t know the despair you’ve brought onto yourselves.” Nightscream said. “Die as you lived, in ignorance of your place in the greater scheme of things, outsider.”

“Tough talk for one ‘bot.” Brimstone said.

“Do they not teach math in the outside world?” Nightscream said. Brimstone cocked his head, confused, until he realised that hidden in the slopes above emerged countless other shadowy figures. Templar subjects.

“Whoa, now-” Brimstone hadn’t the chance to finish before he and the three ‘bots standing behind him were cleaved in half. Nightscream dropped the tip of his gigantic sword on the ground, wreckage of the four biker 'bots littering the path. The other Templar around him rose to fight, but stayed as he shook his head.

“It was my arrogance that left me blind to my disciples misdoings.” He said, looking back and Nightbird and Nightfire. “This is, ultimately, my fault. I will amend it.”

“Wait a moment, man…” Lugnutz said. Nightscream dashed forward, and with one broad swing of his massive blade, obliterated the remaining interlopers. They hadn’t time to scream, run, or even react before their lives were rendered null and void. It could hardly be called a fight, but whatever it was, it was over. Nightscream turned to the two, the other subjects looking down from on high.

“You have done a terrible thing.” Nightbird and Nightfire were now on their knees, bowing before him. “You have risked the safety and secrecy of our Templar. You have risked the ruination of all we have strived for. Sacrificed our lives for.” He looked at them with a mix of pity and disdain. “What have you to say?”

“We beg forgiveness.” The two said in unison. Nightscream held his sword between them.

“I hereby cast you out.” He ignored their pleas, his tone sombre.

“Please, don’t….” Nightbird said. She felt a sickening blend of guilt and shame. Of leaving the grounds. Of not realizing they'd been followed. Of seeing the disappointment on her master's face.

“You, who risk bringing ruination, are-” He was cut off when Nightfire stood.

“She has nothing to do with this.” Nightfire said. “I roped her into this. I’ve been leaving the monastery for years now. I just took her this one time, but before that was all me.”

“Years?” Nightscream said. Nightfire steeled himself for what he was about to say next.

“I submit myself.” He said. “I do. Cast me out, let her stay.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” Nightscream says. “To be cast out is to give your life. No one leaves the Templar alive.”

“I understand.” Nightfire said. “But I am to blame. It was against her protests that I left the monastery. She is truly devoted in ways I am not. To kill her is to kill a true Templar.” Nightbird said nothing, baffled at Nightfire’s sacrifice and nobility.

“I see.” Nightscream said. “I will admit, Nightfire, I never expected such honour to come from you.”

“Maybe now I’m just properly motivated.” He said. He clenched his fists and readied himself for what was to come.

“To lay down your life for another Templar is the highest nobility. It is the level of which we all aspire to be.” Nightscream said. “Your devotion does you credit, but I cannot ignore this transgression.” Nightscream sighed. “I will spare both your lives, however, since you wish to be one with the outside world…” He lifted his sword and plunged it into the ground.

“You who would bring ruination, tempted by the outside world, are cast into it.” Nightscream bellowed. “A Ruiner such as yourself cannot be allowed to stay a Templar, despite your selfless sacrifice. Instead, you will live in shame. Leave now, never speak of this place, and keep what honour you have, along with your life.” Nightfire bowed. He began to walk away, leaving everything he had behind. The Templar above him knelt in acknowledgement of this act as he walked towards the path. The Monastery was almost out of sight when he turned, Nightbird standing behind him.

“So that’s it.” She said. Nightfire stayed with his back to her, and the two remained in silence. She searched for the words to describe what she felt. “Awfully noble of you.”

“It would seem so.” He said.

"Not like you at all."

"Maybe not." Nightfire's said. “Guess I haven't always seen much of a point in it. ’Course, it was my nobility that saved my life just now.”

“A more cynical ‘bot would say you took advantage of that.” Nightbird said, letting that statement hang.

“A more cynical ‘bot would.” Nightfire looked back to her. “But you’re not cynical, are you?”

“Nightfire is.”

“Good thing nobody named ‘Nightfire’ exists. Not anymore.” Nightbird lamented how she never saw him again, not until yesterday when he literally fell out of the sky and stumbled upon her. The puzzle cube still sat next to her bed. It had never been completed, not since she was sent out to guard the wastes not long after that. She left her room, and in doing so the memories with it, and continued down the hall until she reached Nightscream’s private chambers. The doors were smashed open already, and she carefully entered. It was ransacked mostly. She walked over to the closed casket on the far wall, unsure if it’d even still be there. It was a coffin, huge and ornate, but there was no body inside. Instead she pried it open, the gigantic green blade that killed so many Transformers sat within. The casket indeed contained death, just not in the same way one normally would. She heard muffled screaming, commotion, from the other side of the chamber’s walls, and grabbed the hilt with both hands.

 

Chapter Seventeen: Big Words mean Big Things.
​

“Airhammer!” Sky Shadow stood before his comrade strewn about the floor. He knelt down, hands trembling over his body. “He’s in stasis lock…”

“Only stasis lock?” Nightbird’s tone was apathetic as she placed herself between Botanica and the beast. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

“Try all you want, it won’t save you!” Sky Shadow transformed into a fusion of lizard and dragonfly, looming over her with slime dripping from it’s toothy maw. His voice was deeper, more guttural. “It won’t save any of you.”

“I offer you no mercy, either.” She swung the sword, it’s weight throwing her balance. It connected, but lower and weaker than she anticipated. Moreover, Sky Shadow dodged, and while the hit to his leg was significant, it wasn’t fatal or even debilitating. Indeed it only seemed to enrage him. The sword was simply too big for her, and Sky Shadow was too fast.

“Now you’ve gone and done it!” Icebird shrugged and shook his head. Optimus, waiting patiently for any distraction, took the opportunity to jump-kick Icebird square in the snout, off of Jetfire. Sky Shadow turned to see the commotion, and was instantly set upon by Road Rage, now free of his grasp, who likewise kicked him viciously in the jaw. Sky Shadow’s right arm unfolded into a massive pincer made of the chitinous wings of his insect mode, and grabbed her. Before he could even do anything with her, however, he was hit again by a more focused attack from Nightbird’s sword. He, struggled, but remained standing, and held Road Rage high above Nightbird, only to heel-turn and overhand the Autobot into Optimus. The other Autobots disabled, it was a one-on-one. Nightbird, furious over this unnecessary cruelty, lunged again, and was parried by those same claws. She considered ditching the sword, it’s power and destructive edge useless if she couldn’t wield it properly, when she realised there was some form of mechanism running along it’s unsharpened side. She traced it down to the handle, and gave it a twist. A seam appeared halfway up the blade, along with a handle and trigger.

“Excellent.” She said, grabbing the new handle and splitting the sword in two. In the blink of an eye she swapped grips and slashed across Sky Shadow’s chest with the now shorter, reasonably-sized sword. She wielded lower half, now a blaster, and fired a powerful energy burst right into his fresh wound. The monster tipped back and collapsed in a heap, smoking and motionless. Nightbird dropped the gun, observing it was overheated, and turned her attention towards Icebird, who now stood, in robot mode, against the wall.

“Alright, now look-” He said, only for her to quick draw a pistol from her hip and shoot him several times in the chest. The shots were ineffective, but distracted him enough for her to get in close, blade to his neck.

“I’ll ask you only once,” Nightbird said calmly. “Where exactly is Scourge, and what is he planning? Why raid the Templar monastery?”

“I’d listen to her, Yogi,” Optimus said, he and Botanica helped Road Rage to her feet. “’Less you want to end up as the tackiest area rug on Cybertron.”

“He’s going to use the thing, the special thing!” Icebird panicked.

“Specifics.” Nightbird inched the blade tip closer, Optimus watched it carefully, tensing as it looked more and more like she was ready to plunge it through his neck.

“He’s going to use it to rig the next great upgrade!” Icebird said. “He said it will be a culling, and a rebirth. He says a lot of words, and I’m not sure what he means, all I know is that he wants to make more.”

“More what?” Optimus asked. “More Decepticons?”

“Hah!” Icebird stopped laughing as the blade now poked into his metallic armour. “More of us! More beast warriors!”

“More… what?” Botanica said. “You mean to tell me, Ganymede-?”

“That’s what made us what we are!” Icebird continued. “I don’t know how, but that thing, it knows how to make what we are. Pseudo-kinda organic alt modes. Like bendy metal, based on animals he said he learned about off-world. He says he’s going to make things like it used to be.”

“Could he do that?” Road Rage spoke softly from behind them, she looks visibly drained and weakened, and she knelt next to Jetfire, who still lay on the floor, but shifted. He was alive, much to Optimus' elation.

“I mean, I don’t know how he’s going to reformat everyone- that’s what he calls it-” Icebird said. “But yeah, I mean he did it to us. Or he made the brain guy do it.”

“That’s… not as evil as I expected.” Optimus said. “What, he’s going to mildly inconvenience everyone? Reformat everyone then laugh sinister triumph for the thirty seconds before they all revert back to whatever mode they had before?”

“It’s not that simple.” Botanica explained. “When a Cybertronian reformats to a new alternate form, a fabricator or stasis pod or what have you machines new body pieces whilst simultaneously breaking down your old parts for raw materials, the base material that nearly all our body parts are made from.”

“I know this one-” Road Rage said, tapping her stump to her chin. “Proto-subsensurata Emphisistic… something.”

“…Dermal bonds.” Botanica finished. “Or just ‘Cybertronium’ as is commonly used in conversation. Reformatting is no small feat, but it‘d be impossible had we not discovered these building blocks to our beings. Scientifically speaking, it's only a few steps above atomic reconstruction. However, even with this knowledge total body conversions are still an out of reach concept, hence replacement parts and need for physical reconstructive surgery for total overhauls.” Botanica moved towards Icebird, placing a hand on his metallic hide.

“Umm, hi?” He said. Nightbird pressed the blade closer to shut him up.

“But this… this is something remarkably different.” Botanica ignored his comment. A telescopic eyepieces slid over her right eye as she examined him. “Or rather, all too familiar. There’s another type of material that composes us. The Outer Emphisistic Strata Dermas. Also known as ‘face metal’ it is the flexible, reactive material that usually makes up a small percentage of a Transformer’s body, commonly the face, fingers, or small inner lining of joints to protect them from debris. It’s unknown why we evolved to have this highly complex material in such small quantities, nor why some of us have it and some don’t. Theories are numerous and vary radically, but the conclusion is always that our bodies can’t handle the animating force it would take to render our entire forms, or close to our entire forms, in such a rare material. Our sparks lack the raw energy output.”

“And you mean to say these beast-bots are made entirely of this stuff?” Optimus asked.

“Entirely? No.” She retreated back to the stasis-locked Airhammer. “As you can plainly see, many rigid metal components still exist in their structure. Perhaps because the electro-sensitive nodes needed to properly manipulate it would ‘cross wires’ if it was an entire form. Or it may be for practical reasons-”

“Get away from him!” Icebird shouted, seemingly ignoring Nightbird's ever encroaching blade. “Don’t just pick and prod at us like we’re lab rats or something!”

“You must tell me, how did Scourge do this?” Botanica pleaded. “What you are, what he made you, is a breakthrough in our understanding of our biology and the laws of physics that surround it! This is the closest to mechagenetic programming we could ever hope to see! We’re talking the ability to heal any wound, cure any disease. The perfect hybrid or organic and technology.”

“I told you, Scourge didn’t do it, his brain thing did it.” Icebird said. “We each stepped into a stasis pod, and it just reformatted us- no… it recreated us.”

“I knew Ganymede held secrets, but this…” Botanica held her head, trying to fathom the repercussions.

“Techno-organic?” Optimus asked. “Like… cyborgs?”

“Not even close.” Botanica said. “Metallic, technological life with the properties of organic life, mouldable to any shape. Dare I say… the perfect species.”

“Okay, I’m all for free will and all, but this doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me.” Optimus said. “Why doesn’t Scourge, say, show this to the world Governments and give people a choice? Why sneak around, kill people, and steal things for it?”

“Because-” Botanica’s tone implied she grew frustrated, as if Optimus and everyone should understand this all as she does. “As I said, the only unanimous opinion of this theory is that the average Cybertronian cannot sustain it. The typical spark lacks the output and compatibility with such a complex form as a fully animated beast mode. This is not just a robot mode on all fours, this is an entirely new class of alternate form.”

“I don’t understand.” Optimus admitted.

“Then trust me.” Botanica locked eyes with him, her expression grime and steely. “If Scourge could do it, if he could just whimsically reformat the majority population of Cybertron into beasts, almost no one would survive the process. They’d die the very first time they transformed, if they even survived the reformatting itself.”

“That’s more like the Scourge I know.” Optimus said. “Prick. And just when I thought he’d maybe, just maybe, toned down the crazy, he comes up with this.”

“You sound remarkably nonchalant.” Icebird said. “You’re not scared? Scared of doomsday? Of a new world where only the strong survive?”

“Hell no,” Optimus said. “Nobody else dies. I made a promise. Nobody is killing anybody. Because we’re going to kick his sorry tail off this mountain well before he does. Not that you’ll be awake when it happens.” Optimus grabbed the sword from Nightbird, and with every ounce of strength he had left, clubbed Icebird in the head with the hilt. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious.

“I do wonder…” Botanica said. “Why hasn’t Scourge done it yet? He’s clearly capable of reformatting Cybertronians. Why doesn’t he enact his plan now?”

“Probably should’ve asked him that before you sent him off to dream land.” Nightbird said, Optimus pouted.

“Because he needs us, specifically, you.” Optimus said. “Back when we fought, he mentioned Ganymede didn’t cooperate with him, or something to that effect. And when we chatted earlier you filled me in on your special connection with it. I’m betting Scourge can’t make Ganymede do something on a scale like that. I bet it's deliberately resisting him. Well, I hope. Would explain a lot.”

“That’s an awfully big assumption.” Road Rage said, still weak. Jetfire stood beside her, shaking, but standing all the same.

“Either that, or he’s just so cripplingly arrogant he can’t not have us witness his big ol’ evil plan see fruition.” Optimus shrugged. “Either way, he’s waiting on us, which means we hold the upper hand for now.” Optimus walked to the exit Convoy and the others had taken. “Hopefully our scout team comes back with positive news. If we can get the jump on Scourge, we could disable him. Maybe, I dunno, hold him hostage so his goons don’t maul us to death. Then we steal Ganymede, hogtie the livestock, and alert the Autobot military at large of the narrowly avoided crisis.”

“Your plan is decidedly lacking in idiosyncrasies.” Botanica said.

“It’s more like a plan to make a plan, but whatever. Point is, we can’t make a decisive move until the scout team reports back.” Optimus shrugged. “But for now, let’s focus on repairs. Road Rage is in bad shape-”

“I’m fine, really.” She said.

“No, you’re not. And Jetfire took a bad hit for me.” Optimus looked at the old Decepticon. “I’m sorry, buddy. You shouldn’t be throwing yourself in the line of danger for me.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jetfire said, meekly. “The shock to my systems scrambled my more sensitive functions and drowned out the noise.”

“Wait, you’re lucid right now?” Optimus asked.

“As I can be.” He tapped his head. “Seeing you in danger, being knee-deep in the fight with all of you, brings a certain clarity.”

“Then let’s not waste it.” Optimus began, only for Nightbird to pull him aside.

“You said there was a scouting party? Is that where everyone else went?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah. Convoy, ummm…” Optimus cleared his throat. “…Took command of that operation. It’s strictly recon. Stealth mission, if you will.”

“You sent Ruiner on a stealth mission?” She said.

“Yeah? So?”

“You sent Ruiner, on a stealth mission?”

“I see your point.” Optimus conceded. “Alright. Nightbird, you and I back up the recon team. You two get yourselves fixed up. Scrounge for medical supplies. Spare parts, circuit boosters. Anything. You’re tearing me up looking like this. Botanica will help.”

“Why do I have to stay?” Botanica asked.

“Because you’re still the closest thing to a medic we have. Besides, if I’m right and Scourge needs you to convince Ganymede to pull off this crazy scheme of his, I want you far away. Or at least out of reach. It’s six of us against one of him, the odds in our favour.”

“Eight of us against one of him wasn’t enough, and it almost a certainty he'll have backup of his own.” Botanica reminded him. “Please, I must see this through. I know you want to protect us, but we’re not safe sitting it out. We need a coordinated effort, and every set of hands. And, well, you know me…” She held up her twin sets of forearms. “I’m two for the price of one in that regard. Besides…” She cleared her throat. “This is not my forte, but I want you to know. When you… died, ostensibly, I found myself lost in a stupor. I distracted myself with researching the remnant computer of Soundwave’s pyramid ship, but in my moments of rest all I could think about was, well… you.”

“Oh, wow.” Optimus said.

“Yes.” She composed herself. “And I never, ever want to feel that sense of longing and regret again.” Botanica crossed her arms, trying to maintain sophistication. “So, no. I will not leave you to go and die again. Not if I can do anything to help it.”

“Glad somebody said it,” Road Rage said. “The not staying behind to let you fight alone. Not the, ummm… not that there’s anything wrong with you-” She pointed to Optimus and Botanica with her arm. “That’s great! But, well, you tried doing the heroic lone charge into battle bit before, and we didn’t listen then.” She lightly slugged him in the arm with her stump. “So yeah, no go bigbot.”

“Alright then.” Optimus said. “We’d better hurry up. Knowing Ruiner he’s probably literally announcing their arrival by now.” Optimus looked to Nightbird. “Was he always such a, pardon my Earth, dickhead?”

“No.” She said, dropping her gaze. “Not always.” She let out a deep, apathetic sigh. “Then again, perhaps this is his true nature unrestrained. When he left us, so too must he have left behind his inhibitions.”

“Wonderful.” Optimus sighed. “Luckily, Ironhide’s with them. I’m sure he’ll keep them in check.”

“You trust him that much?” Nightbird said.

“I trust that guy with my life.” Optimus said.

“It must be nice.”

“Hey, uh, testing, testing one, two three-” Ruiner’s voice buzzed in Optimus’ ear.

“Hello?” Optimus responded. He looked at Nightbird and pointed to his ear. “Ruiner’s chatting me up on my personal frequency!” Nightbird looked at him with confusion. “How…. How’d you get this number?” He addressed Ruiner.

“Oh, I’m using Ironhide’s comm. unit.” Ruiner explained. “I picked it up after he was shot in the head.” Optimus nodded.

“He’s just got Ironhide’s comm.” Optimus explained to Nightbird. “It fell out of his head when he was-” Optimus’ eyes popped wide.

“What!?”

 

Chapter Eighteen: Everything Old is New Again​

“Hey… hey!” Spiral patted Ironhide’s face, trying to bring him around. “Stay with me big guy, just stay awake, alright!” Ironhide’s eyes blinked, everything sounded like it was underwater, Spiral was little more than a blue blob in his limited field of view.

“What….?” Ironhide’s voice was tinny and coarse, and the auditory fog resolved into an intense ringing. “Oh, man alive… what happened?”

“You were shot in the head.” Spiral said. “But don’t panic! It was just a grazed hit I think. Sniper or something took us unaware.”

“And I was the first hit?” Ironhide moaned. “Aww, brother. Just my luck.”

“Fear not, we dragged you away when you got hit. Though we lost communications with Ruiner.” Convoy stood over him, looking down. “He was in the field of fire when you got hit, but that‘s not all…” Ironhide saw a strange distance in his eyes. They didn’t move, and were an odd fixed shape. He worried what this meant, until he saw his reflection in Convoy’s chest window. He motioned for Convoy to kneel, which the latter obliged. Ironhide had massive damage to the left side of his head, the blocky side panel of his helmet was gone, and his head looked like ripples in water frozen in time. The ringing was intense, and he felt around his wound until he found an abnormality. He found purchase, and pulled, popping the bullet out of it’s crater. The ringing faded away to his relief, and he gave the mangled round to Spiral.

“Holy hell that’s a fat bullet!” She said, examining it in the light. “This is some kind of modified anti-armour slug. Probably another freaky monster attack judging by the shape of the rear. No sign of casing or explosive propellant. Explains why we never heard a shot.” She dropped it into her chest compartment. “Sprouts’ll probably want to examine it or something.” She turned to Ironhide. “You okay?”

“I’m just a peach-” He grumbled. “But needless to say, my dreams of being Mr. December in the next issue of Model Max Mech are over.”

“Yeah, you’re fine.” She said, helping him up. Ironhide lifted up with his right leg, but when he assumed he was standing, he toppled over, his left leg was limp. Spiral stopped him from hitting the ground, and gently leaned him up against a rock in the mountain. “Or maybe not.”

“That’s weird.” Ironhide said. “Can’t move my arm, either.” He stared at his motionless left arm. “Shot must’ve severed a circuit.”

“Can you transform?” Convoy asked. “Perhaps I can tow you back?” Ironhide slowly began to convert, but only his right limbs folded up, and his torso’s mechanisms were slow to respond. He stopped and returned to full robot mode, shaking his head.

“Shite.” He spat. “Not how I expected to go out.”

“Alright, enough of that crap.” Spiral said. “It’s probably just a glitch from the impact. Just reboot, we’ll cover you.”

“This is no glitch.” Convoy said. “He’s right, it likely severed a brain circuit. Rebooting won’t fix that, and neither of us are qualified to repair that damage.” Convoy crossed his arms, Spiral stood up angrily.

“Nobody asked you, tagalong.” She spat. “Why are you even here if all you’re going to do is skulk in the shadows and leave friends behind?”

“I’m in this mess now, same as you.” He said calmly. “If anything I should be upset.”

“You say that now,” She accused. “But you barely say a word when Optimus is around, you avoid basically all non-essential contact with anyone but Road Rage; and speaking of, you act awfully buddy-buddy with her considering you hardly know each other!” Spiral stuck her finger in his faceplate. “What’s your story? Are you some kind of lost puppy looking for a home, or some sicko playing a messed up game? Or…” She wagged her finger and nodded. “You know, Ironhide, didn’t we meet this guy just before Scourge attacked Botanica?”

“What are you implying, Autobot?” Convoy took an authoritative tone.

“Scourge planned for us.” Spiral began. “He chucked Swindle our way to slow us down, but he wants us here all the same. He wiped us from Teletraan to give us incentive to follow him, and I’ll bet he sent you to make sure we stayed on track.”

“Preposterous.” “Convoy said. “I’ve bled for you! I’ve put my life in danger.”

“Because you’re a good actor.”

“Look into my eyes.” Convoy knelt down to Spiral, bringing them face to face. “Tell me what you see.”

“Any ‘bot sadistic enough can conceal their emotions, especially when…” Spiral focused on his optics, something amiss she couldn’t quite pin down. “What? Are they-?”

“Lenses.” Convoy admitted. “Sophisticated, but false. I need to dedicate effort to move them and emote, otherwise they remain static.” He looked down, holding up a finger to his right eye, physically retracting the lens. He held it up to her, the dull orange glow of an inner optic sensor stared back at her. Through the small gap in the eyehole of his facemask, she saw tattered, ruined metal, implying his eye had been all but destroyed.

“A long time ago, I lead a group of Autobots.” He explained. “I was their unit commander. We were a team, or rather, a family of brothers. We were riffraff really, little more than aimless followers to the Autobot cause. But brothers all the same. We laughed together, we cried together, we even killed together... and when that happened, cried together again if we needed to. One fateful day, we were ambushed. Decepticons on all sides. Their cunning and tactics were too much for us, and we were subdued. But rather than taken prisoner, this particular band were blowing off steam, and we were unlucky enough to cross their path. They… tore us apart. I was beaten many times in the face until there wasn’t much left of me. I survived only by slipping into stasis lock. My brothers were not so lucky.” He stood up, returning the lens over his eye to it’s down position. His voice became strained, as if the words were difficult to say. “I had many Autobot… brothers. Some died before my unit was wiped out. Each one valiantly. Even now I consider that slaughter to be one more sacrifice by them for my sake. Not that I deserved it. But my point is, I have been in many encounters where sometimes, not everyone gets to come home. Sometimes, as sad as it is, we have to leave some be-” Spiral gut punched Convoy so hard he doubled-over into the snow.

“Ironhide’s not dead, Goddammit!” She snarled. “What happened to your team sucks, it really does. Trust me, I’ve been there too. But here’s a little anecdote of mine: even when it seemed shitty and hopeless, like nobody was gonna come back, when it came to my team whoever could walk would carry whoever couldn’t, and if they couldn’t walk themselves, they’d crawl and drag ‘em along instead.” She hoisted Ironhide’s limp arm over her back and lifted the heavy Autobot, he helped as much he could with his remaining leg. “You’re buddies who died, not just in the ambush, probably had the same mentality. Now let’s wait until we’re all actually dead before we just throw up our hands and give up, yeah?”

“You-” Convoy struggled to stand up, hands over his midsection. “Raise a compelling argument. But if that sniper has sent out scouts, they’ll likely be on us any minute now, and this will slow us down immensely. We’ll have to carry him in robot mode with your vehicle mode’s limited terrain handling, and I can’t carry you both in alternate mode-”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, I get it.” She said. “Just help me already.” Convoy obliged.

“Hey, can I say something?” Ironhide asked.

“If it’s some likewise faux-chivalrous crap about leaving you behind, no.” Spiral said, straining to lift him over the uneven terrain on top of slogging through the snow.

“Oh no, I’m fine with that. I ain’t ready to join the choir invisible just yet-” He said, doing his best to hobble with his one leg. “It’s about Ruiner: we’re not leaving him behind, are we?”

“’Course not.” Spiral said. “Once we get back to the snow-free trail, Convoy’s driving you back to the monastery, and I’m going back for blueboy. He may be an insufferable dork, but I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I left him to fend off snipers an monsters by himself.”

“Aww, I knew you cared!” Ruiner said, causing everyone to jump in a panic, Convoy clutching his chest. Ruiner was unfazed, and stared into Spiral's visor. “So, since it's official, what kind of biofuel do you like? Fair warning, I spend most of my money on ammo and electric barstops, so think cheap-”

“How did you even do that?” She said.

“Do what?”

“Escape and sneak up on us like that!” Spiral asked.

“Uh, remember, I am a trained assassin.” Ruiner casually brushed his shoulder. “Just because I look pampered and sensitive, I have the soul of a committed and decisive mech.”

“Right, so what took you so long?” Ironhide asked.

“Oh, I had to lead the enemy away. I didn’t get a good look, but I lost them in the wastes. Nobody but Templar know how to navigate those. They'll be lost for days at least. But not ol' Ruiner! See, it’s actually quite interesting, they-”

“Alright alright-” Ironhide held up a hand. “Just, you made sure you lost them, right?”

“You bet your bottom dollar, mate-!” Ruiner said in a mocking accent, then held up Ironhide’s communicator. “Also, I radioed back. The auxiliary gang is gonna meet us halfway.” He tossed it back to Ironhide. “Oh, and because I’m such a great guy, I also found out where your bff Scourge is. He’s at the Temple of Rebirth, in the shrine. It’s where we held a lot of our religious ceremonies, like inducting new members. And he‘s, by all accounts, alone. At least I couldn‘t see anyone else. I didn't want to risk him, I dunno, smelling me there? That's an organic thing, right?”

“You did all that in such a short time?” Ironhide said.

“Oh, did I not mention?” Spiral looked to Ironhide. “You were out for an hour.”

“Out where?” Road Rage’s voice came from behind them. She sat in Optimus’ arms as he, Jetfire, Botanica and Nightbird approached from below. Optimus quickly ran to Ironhide, his concern shared by Road Rage and Botanica, who quickly began inspecting his head. Jetfire stopped short and looked on, While Nightbird addressed Convoy directly.

“Ruiner gave us the details.” She explained. “Our next move should be to infiltrate the Temple using the hidden entrances with our remaining forces and swarm him. The shrine is a confined space, so he won’t be able to fly very easily. If we move now, and hit hard, we should be able to take him down…” Her gaze fell to Ironhide, still half-disabled, and Road Rage, now too weak to even walk.

“Our numbers are dwindling.” Convoy said. “We’re tired, weakened, and lack armament-” Nightbird tossed Convoy a handgun, and another to Spiral.

“Ugh, guns?” She said. “I mean, whatever works, works, but it’s not as satisfying as beatin’ a dude’s head in-” She checked her words, then slowly turned to Convoy. “Uh, sorry…”

“My energy blasts and hidden weapons run on reserve power, and it’s near depletion.” Convoy ignored Spiral and checked the pistol. He clipped it to his waist and looked at Nightbird. “I appreciate this.”

“I’ve got Nightscream’s sword and rifle,” Nightbird said. “Anyone else need firepower?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much skill in using firearms, I’ve never needed to.” Botanica motioned to where her hip cannons used to be. “I’m afraid I’d only be a hindrance if armed. However, I’m still capable of fighting hand-to-hand.” Nightbird pulled her last pistol from her backpack and handed it grip-first to Optimus, who declined.

“Not my style.” He explained. “From a distance, I can’t react properly to my enemy’s movements. I need to be up-close, you know. Besides… I’m going to try not to kill Scourge.”

“Aww, what?” Ruiner whined. “Tell me you’re not serious?”

“Yeah, I hate to agree here, but Scourge isn’t really someone we can just tie up and leave for the cops.” Spiral said. “He’s a literal monster now. If we don’t end this now he could very well bust out again and either hurt someone or just end up killed by Autotroopers anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do it.” Optimus stood, gently putting Road Rage down before he did. “I made a promise. No one else dies.”

“Plenty of people have died!” Ruiner said. “My former friends? We just burned a dozen of their dead bodies! Your own team mates have almost died! Your two best friends are basically rag dolls thanks to him, and Nightbird’s master, her teacher and ostensibly her guardian, is dead. What we need is not misplaced ideals, we need a good old fashioned kill-fest.” Ruiner said. He sighed and rubbed his face, dragging his hand down his faceplate in frustration. “Don’t tell me this is about the garbage barge?”

“It’s about a lot of things.” Optimus said, trying to remain steadfast. “But mostly it’s out of respect for a peaceful ‘bot that just wanted everyone to live when he couldn’t. The rest of you can use whatever you want, but we restrain him or stasis lock him. Beyond what I said before, he doesn’t deserve to get off easy. He’s gotta answer for this like Megatron did.”

“Megatron wasn’t even this bad,” Spiral said. “At the very least he had the common sense to fail miserably and get blindsided by his own goons. Scourge has this place on lock and a plan that is really, truly close to happening.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I vote we end that scrapheap.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Ruiner said. “Make it democratic. I vote kill.”

“I have to agree with Ruiner, it’s important we make this count. A second chance only benefits him.” Nightbird said.

“I’m with Optimus,” Road Rage said. “Like he said, he and Megatron should be cell mates. Killing him means he doesn‘t have to pay for what he did.”

“I agree,” Ironhide said. “And I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I didn’t.”

“Three and three,” Ruiner said to Convoy. “What about it, shining knight? You gonna trip and fall off the moral high ground, too?”

“No, Scourge is too powerful, and not just physically.” Convoy said. “What he possesses is more devastating than his brute force. I regretfully vote we eliminate him.” He sighed.

“Scourge attacked me…” Botanica said, standing up for a moment. “He stole what was the greatest discovery of my life, and perverted it for some sick self-proposed scheme under the guise of revolution. He took almost everything from me. I agree that death would not be adequate retribution. He should feel loss like I did. Besides, Optimus is our leader,” She placed a hand on Optimus’ shoulder in show of support. “We follow our leader.”

“Well then,” Ruiner said. “It seems we have reached an impasse.”

“Not just yet-” Road Rage said, leaning on Ironhide. “Jetfire gets to vote.”

“What? No he doesn’t!” Ruiner said. “He’s blitzed out of his brain, look at him!”

“I’m perfectly of sound mind you young fool!” Jetfire snapped, pointing his cane at Ruiner. “I’m just old, and arguing is far down my list of concerns, especially with an open back plate. I only want to know one thing…” He retrieved Sky-Byte’s broken crest from his chest compartment, looking wistfully at Optimus. He clutched it, then placed it back away. “Is it true that Sky-Byte wanted this? That he wanted no more loss of life?”

“It was his dying wish.” Optimus said. “He said it as he ejected me, but Jetfire… I won’t use this to leverage you. You decide for yourself, right now, what you want.”

“I want…” Jetfire said, leaning on his cane. “To do right by a good person, even if that might not be the right thing to do. I vote not to kill him.”

“Wonderful…” Ruiner said, shaking his head. “Just wonderful, we got a band of bleedin’ sparks over here…” He put his hands on his hips. “But fair is fair. Fine, I’ll just, I dunno, aim for his arms and legs I guess. He ain‘t gotta be able to walk to be alive.”

“I’ll honour your decision.” Nightbird said, uncertainty in her voice.

“Now if we’ve wasted enough time talking, can we just go?” Spiral gestured towards the Temple. Botanica held up a hand.

“I don’t have much in the way of experience in what I am now astutely aware is brain surgery, but I know how to reroute circuits, and Ironhide should regain full motion momentarily.” She grimaced as she strained to carefully mend tiny circuits. “If you can wait but a moment more, we’ll have our linebacker back.” Ironhide laughed at her crack, causing Botanica to gasp as she nearly lost focus.

“Alright, let’s quickly get ready to move.” Optimus instructed, Convoy watching as his younger contemporary reasserted command. “Double check the path is clear.”

“As for you,” Botanica lowered her voice to address Road Rage. “What’s your status?”

“Like, my injuries?” She said, barely turning her head to look at Botanica whilst still leaning on Ironhide for support.

“And you-know-what.” Botanica said. Road Rage slouched.

“You noticed the twitching, huh?”

“And having to be carried leads me to believe your power output is falling faster than your physical wounds would suggest.” Botanica said. “And what you did, to your hands in that fight, that’s not normal.”

“I know, alright, I’m just…” Road Rage said. “My head keeps buzzing, and I get angry but not, like, emotionally angry just sort of… I feel that boiling heat in my brain, that unease, that anticipation. Like I’m riled, but my actual emotions are a flatline. It feels like what happened in the bar.”

“Ah yes, that was described to me.” Botanica said, Ironhide approximating an innocent whistling. “Well, since I routinely am forced to operate outside my field of expertise, let me try on psychology. Given what I know, I believe this is a new manifestation of your personality glitch as a sort of dual personality, or possibly, a lack of one. Much like your vehicle mode channelled all your rage and hatred, now without your weapons as a focus point your aberrant behaviour is instead of bursting out now being forced inwards. There’s nothing for you, mentality, to associate these negative impulses with besides yourself. Your subconscious no longer has a scapegoat.”

“But I’m not negative, I’m happy!” Road Rage explained. “Well, not right now obviously, but I usually am. I feel normal. I’m sad when I should be sad, happy when I should be happy, it’s just… every now and then I get an unstoppable urge to just… attack. It’s not even an urge, just a prerogative. Like that’s just what my brain says is the thing to do. I don‘t hate, I don‘t long for it, I just do it like it‘s the most rational, natural thing.”

“Then that would explain the twitching,” Botanica continued. “As much like your vehicle mode was an outlet for these impulses before and has since been rendered mundane, so to is your body itself in this weakened state no longer an outlet. More and more valves to let off steam are being shut. I worry that this may cause serious mental harm.”

“Ah jeez,” Road Rage said, deflated. “And I was doing so well. I was seeing a therapist, I was this close to having them properly removed… now I’m gonna, what, just go full-on crazy? That's terrifying.”

“I’m sorry.” Botanica said. “I never said it sincerely and appropriately, but I’m sorry I pressured you into getting your weapons removed before you were ready. It was selfish and demanding of me to say.”

“It’s fine.” Road Rage said. “I’m sorry about your brain friend being taken away.”

“Don’t be,” Botanica said. “We’ll get Ganymede back.”

“You’re a good listener, Ironhide.” Road Rage attempted a subject change.

“Not my place to comment.” He said. “Besides, I ain’t going anywhere.”

“Still, it’s a useful skill to have.” Road Rage said.

“I’m done, by the way.” Botanica said. “I was done a minute ago but got lost in the conversation. Try moving.” Ironhide found both sides of him worked in perfect tandem. Botanica smiled, pleased with herself. “Thankfully the damage was, relatively speaking, minor and simple to fix. But still, we’ll take you to a proper circuit specialist when this is all done. And be mindful, as debris can still enter that bullet hole and do more damage. Try to avoid hitting your head.”

“Copy that, doc.” Ironhide stood up, flexed, then transformed. Botanica gingerly picked up Road Rage and placed her on top of him.

“We’re heading out, now.” Optimus said, walking up to them. “Botanica, I-”

“I’m not staying.” She said. “I know Scourge wants to use me to coerce Ganymede, but you need me. Whatever his plan is, I can interface with Ganymede and disable it easily. It trusts me, and I know it’s intentions are pure. Whatever threats or torment Scourge has used, I can nullify it.

“I was actually going to say thanks for fixing Ironhide…” Optimus said. “But yeah you make some good points.” Optimus walked alongside Ironhide as Botanica and the rest kept a loose perimeter as they trudged through the secret routes towards the temple. Convoy handled looser ground while Ruiner took point with Nightbird, until they found it. A secret entrance into the Temple itself that would lead to the shrine. Everyone was in robot mode as they entered, Jetfire stopped at the small entrance.

“I can fit if I crawl, I think.” Jetfire said, wobbling down to his knees.

“Sorry buddy, but you’ll have to wait outside.” Optimus said.

“There’s a dome up top you can enter by.” Nightbird pointed up the temple wall. “Once we’ve secured Scourge’s location we’ll signal you for backup. Don't worry about breaking it. This place was tainted long ago by that monster.”

“I can live with that.” Jetfire said, turning his back to the entrance to watch for anyone who may stumble upon it. Everyone else entered, following the old stone-like corridor until they bottled up at the end. Ironhide, at the behest of Ruiner, easily moved the large metal statue that blocked the secret entrance, and they leapt into the shrine quickly and quietly. Fanning out, Optimus and Ruiner took either door to the far sides, with Nightbird and Ironhide covering the main entrance, Convoy carefully sitting Road Rage down next to the statue exit. The room was empty save for statues of tall, gargoyle-esque creatures and the shrine itself, which Botanica already stood before. Her four hands shook as she gazed at the organic-metallic object with iridescent lights.

“Ganymede!” She said with glee, noticing it was hooked up to many cables and wires, a large inactive holo-projection monitor behind it.

“But no Scourge.” Ruiner said.

“Which means only one thing-” Optimus pointed back the way they came. “Everyone out, it’s a trap!”

“Astute, but inept.” Scourge said, stepping down from one of the statue podiums where he‘d been remaining still, his blood-red eyes pierced against his black body. “Who’d of thought I’d ever use this form for disguise? Not that the missile truck was any less conspicuous.” Suddenly the door behind Ruiner burst open and he was grabbed by a gigantic metallic primate, the animal overpowering him easily. Optimus leapt away from his door when he saw that, avoiding briefly his own capture until web-like goo ensnared him. He avoided much of it, but the silky strands altered course, webbing up both Ironhide and Nightbird, a spider-like monstrosity scurried out from the door he had guarded. Convoy was on his way into the fray when he felt to his knees, clutching his head as if trying to block out an inaudible sound. Optimus pulled the webbing off him, Scourge looming over him in dragon form.

“Please, do not resist.” Scourge said calmly. “It would only harm your companions.”

“Scourge, why?” Botanica said from behind him, pistol in hand. Optimus noticed Convoy’s waist was empty. He lay on the floor, but Road Rage lay next to him, struggling to stay propped up on her arms without hands, having apparently swatted his gun towards Botanica. She gripped the weapon tighter, her hand shook. “Why?”

“You know why.” Scourge transformed, hands held up. “Icebird or one of the others told you no doubt.” He shrugged. “But I assume you mean more from a moral standpoint, to which the answer is: because I can.” Scourge nodded and the primate and bizarre spider creature kept their distance. He continued. “When I joined the Decepticons, it was because of pride. Pride in myself as a warrior, my skills as a swordsman. I learned from them that pride came from power. True power. And what I learned was that power is not merely a physical force. That is somewhat true, but real power is control. It is what you command, who you command. And most importantly, how you command them. Decepticons command through bullying, but influence is far, far greater a tool. And my influence was great when I discovered our history, preserved here in sacred, sealed archives. The truth, from the fossil’s mouth so-to-speak. And so me and like-minded robots made a vow. And here we all are.”

“What like-minded robots?” Optimus asked. “Chumps like Icebird?”

“No, Icebird is a converted.” Scourge said. “A… persuaded individual who saw our way with a brief, barely noticeable conversation with our dear Ganymede.”

“Wait, did you…” Optimus said. “Reprogram him?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Scourge said.

“How?” Botanica said. “Ganymede would never do that, could never do that!”

“That is where you’re wrong.” Scourge said. “All he needed was help from a trusted advisor. Someone he knew. A parental guide.” Scourge pointed with his hands still up. “Our friend in the rafters, specifically, the one who disabled your friend with a mere focused sonic attack, and the one who is currently doing the same to your gun to loosen all the parts in it.” Botanica looked at her hand and let go of the pistol, it fell to pieces, shook apart by an invisible force. “In fact, let’s meet our dear old friend.”

“Old friend?” Botanica asked as a loud flap of leathery wings resounded from above, and down floated an eerie, demonic bat creature. It landed between Scourge and Botanica, it’s massive wings stretched along the ground.

“I’m sorry we had to meet again like this.” It folded up it’s wings, it’s chest bursting out as arms unfolded, flexing and stretching. It’s short legs were sucked up into it as the remaining torso was traded for new, thicker limbs to stand on. The misshaped head sunk into the body, out of view as the massive wings concealed the final motions, a dark, pointy, and faceless head emerged from the cloak.

“I must say I’ve missed you,” Soundwave said, extending his hand from beneath the cloak of membrane. “All of you. But soon we’ll be all that’s left.”

 

YAY SOUNDWAVE....wait fuck he's a bad guy now?! I THOUGHT HE WAS TURNED GOOD OR SOMETHING?!

 

FYI, this is behind because I got a better position at my job (yay me) so I have less time to sit and write, but I'm still going.  

 

Chapter Nineteen: Rising Action​

Optimus grunted as he was shoved against the wall by Soundwave, unable to resist for fear of his captured friends’ safety. Ironhide and Nightbird remained bound, while Road Rage and Convoy’s limp forms were placed alongside them. Though Road Rage was still conscious, and angry, Convoy was disturbingly motionless.

“What’d you do to him?” Optimus demanded from Soundwave.

“I simply put him to sleep.” He answered dryly. “A focused sonic attack at a debilitating frequency. Again, I must stress, we are not here to hurt you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Optimus didn’t resist as the other cretinous chimera that had ensnared Ironhide and Nightbird in webbing bound him as well. The diminutive individual wore a permanent mischievous grin, complementing the small devilish horns on it’s stout head. It said nothing as it climbed up the wall above him, keeping watch.

“Get your filthy hands off of me you damned, dirty ape!” Ruiner kicked and struggled fruitlessly against Apache’s grip as they joined the line.

“I’m disappointed in you, Soundwave.” Botanica said, still stood across the room. Scourge loomed over her, one hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. “I thought when you betrayed Megatron you’d given up being a Decepticon.”

“You thought wrong.” Soundwave said. “I will always be a Decepticon, but that doesn’t make me blindly loyal.” His head dropped a nearly imperceptible degree as his voice lowered. “However, I’ve recently re-evaluated what it means to be a Decepticon. I met Scourge.”

“Soundwave saw my point of view.” Scourge said. “He agreed that a superior Cybertron could only exist if superior Cybertronians built it.”

“How is that any different from what Megatron or Shockwave wanted?” Botanica asked.

“They wanted to rebuild the world.” Scourge continued. “Knock it down to it’s component parts and re-arrange them in a way that suited them. But if the parts are broken…” Scourge squeezed on Botanica’s shoulder, denting the fender that covered it. “You can re-arrange it all you want until you die, and it will never stay together. What you need to do, what we will do, is throw out the old world entirely. Start anew, with new pieces that will never break, because they are at their core unbreakable.”

“But to do that, we need you.” Soundwave said. “The bond you forged with Ganymede is infallible. I am it’s creator, who it resents for making something so incompatible with the world around it-”

“And it doesn’t trust me at all.” Scourge said, leaning down. “But you? You’re it’s only friend. Someone it will listen to.”

“You’re out of your mind.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Really, Botanica?” Scourge shook his head. “Do I need to spell it out for you?” He nodded towards Apache, who silently acknowledged. He tossed Ruiner aside, the spider-creature webbing him mid-air as he landed next to the other Autobots. Apache stood before them, looming imposingly. He looked over his shoulder to Scourge, who coyly held a finger to his chin, musing. “The red one, I think. The smallest.”

“What are you doing?” Botanica asked.

“And here I thought you were the brains of the outfit.” Scourge said. Apache picked up Road Rage by her head.

“Do it, you monkey!” She spat. “If you have the backbone!” Road Rage struggled to strike at him, but her arms barely so much as flinched in his direction.

“Alright!” Botanica said. “Alright, fine. You’ve made your point.” Scourge waved at Apache, who placed Road Rage back on the ground. She seethed, either in pain or anger.

“You need to calm down.” Nightbird said, quietly. “No sense getting riled up.”

“I can’t stand it!” Road Rage hissed. “Being weak, defenceless… it’s not me.” Her expression contorted into anguish. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Just hang in there.” Optimus said, trying to sound reassuring. “We will make it out of this. Jetfire’s still outside.”

“And Spiral didn't even get in.” Ironhide added. “They’re both probably above us right now, ready to bust down right onto Scourge’s fat head.”

“Unlikely.” Nightbird said. “Scourge is remarkably calm, and he knows how many of us there are. He wouldn’t just forget about those two. Not while he’s acting so in control.”

“Astute observation.” Scourge said, walking up to them. “Pardon the eaves-dropping, heightened hearing is another benefit of the techno-organic process. Indeed, my perimeter forces are engaging your friends right now. They should be joining us shortly. But in the meantime,” Scourge knelt down. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“My name is Nightbird,” She said, calmly. “And I swear on my life I will slice you from tongue to tail and grind your spark under my heel.”

“How eloquent.” Scourge said. “Indeed, it’s good to see there possibly exists one more Templar to join my ranks.”

“Wait, join... what?” Optimus asked. “You don’t mean-?”

“Oh, was it not obvious?” Scourge stood. “After all, where did you think I got an army so quickly?”

“You savage!” Nightbird growled.

“Perhaps.” Scourge said. “Indeed, the majority of my brothers and sisters were once yours. We co-opted who we could, and regretfully had to remove the rest. You see…” Scourge walked over to Ganymede, still plugged into the intricate array. “While our friend here can’t, or won’t, deliver the reformation to the masses, with some… applied force, Soundwave and I could coerce him to perform the transformation on individuals. Like us, and like the Templar.”

“So, what, you mind-controlled them?” Ruiner asked.

“In a way.” Soundwave explained. “Shell programs. Rudimentary, I’ll admit, but effective. Not quite full personalities, but more than enough for a few loyal followers.”

“Like fro-hawk here?” Ruiner nodded towards Apache.

“No, no. Apache was already loyal to me.” Scourge said. “When I found him, or more accurately he and his few allies found me, we swore fealty to each other in the name of the greater cause.”

“Aww, how touching.” Ruiner rolled his eyes.

“Soundwave, is that why you turned on us? Some kind of shell program?” Road Rage said, weakly.

“No.” Botanica said. “I’m afraid this is the real Soundwave.”

“And I’m afraid niceties are at an end.” Scourge said, grabbing Botanica by the arm and pulling her over to Ganymede. “I’d rather not give your friends any more time to plot an escape.” He took a cable from the setup before them and plugged it into his own head, before doing the same to Botanica.

“What are you doing?” She demanded.

“We…” Scourge entered a sequence into the small keyboard in front of Ganymede. “Are going to have a polite chat with a dear old friend. And because I didn’t get this far being anything less than pragmatic-” Scourge clawed away a covering above a heavy metal level, which he pulled to it‘s opposite position. The floor they stood on shuddered, and Ganymede, the holoscreen, and the intricate apparatus around it was pulled into the wall along with them, a heavy curved door sealing behind them.

“The Chamber of Consecration.” Nightbird said. “What is he doing?”

“Oh shit-” Ruiner said. “I think I know...”

“Explain.” Optimus asked.

“The Chamber is holy because it sits above Cybertron’s ‘brain,’ which is to say, the natural veins of optical lines that run underneath the planet’s surface.” Ruiner took a mock breath. “The optical lines knot together under this mountain, like a neural cluster, which is why it’s thought to be holy, but as you all know, Transformers have been using these “natural wires” for thousands of years for communication and shit.”

“No doubt Teletraan has been fully integrated into this system.” Optimus shook his head. “A hard line into the entire network. You wouldn’t be able to sever it, even if you knew it was coming. If Ganymede is as powerful as everyone talks it up to be-”

“Madman.” Nightbird sneered. “How did he know about this?”

“Ganymede told him.” Soundwave said, approaching them. “Ganymede may be stubborn when it comes to making it do things, but it will gladly tell you anything it knows. It’s been inside Teletraan for a while now, but more as a casual observer. It’s reach and strength were limited to bouts and reflexive efforts. But now it can reach, quite literally, the whole world with ease.”

“Can I just say how much I hate this?” Ruiner said. “How much I hate you, and how much I hate Scourge, and the spider guy, and how much I love that none of you have realised Nightbird could’ve broken free at any time before now?” Nightbird ripped free of her bonds, daggers in hand, and sliced Apache three times across his chest. The spider-like creature leapt towards her, but Ironhide burst free and slugged it hard into the wall. Soundwave moved to attack, only to yelp in pain as Road Rage bit down on his foot. The brief diversion was more than enough time for Ironhide to body check the Decepticon into one of the statures lining the walls. The statue buckled and crumbled on top of him as Ironhide ran to free Optimus.

“Like I said-” Road Rage rolled over onto her back, smiling. “Mouths have real health benefits.” She looked beside her to Convoy’s prone form. “Check on him!”

“He’s alive.” Nightbird said. “Possibly in stasis lock. I can’t tell.”

“So put him in a corner or something!” Ruiner said. “We gotta, y’know, go slay- I mean, pacify the dragon and save the princess!”

“That’s the only entrance to the Chamber, though.” Nightbird mused.

“Hey wall voyeur, any more secret spy passages we can wriggle into?” Optimus asked Ruiner.

“Only thing I know of is a maintenance path for the door mechanics, but it’s too small for any of us.” Ruiner nodded to Road Rage who was being held by Ironhide. “And our shortstop has stopped short.”

“I can do it.” Road Rage said. “I’ll divert all remaining power to my arms, crawl if I have to.”

“There has to be some other way around.” Optimus said. Road Rage locked gaze with him, her eyes begging him. He sighed profusely. “Alright.”

“You sure, bigbot?” Ironhide asked.

“We have no choice.” Optimus said. He gingerly took Road Rage from him, and Ruiner ran over to the curved door, prying open a small panel on the floor next to it. Optimus carried her over, and regretfully knelt down.

“You gotta go in head first.” Ruiner said. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic.”

“I am, but whatever.” Road Rage said, accessing her internal systems. Her arms jolted and she winced with pain, but they moved now. Optimus carefully helped her in, holding her now useless legs as she crawled in. She chuckled.

“It’s a short crawl. You’ll probably be able to see the exit once you’re in. Just pop out and hit the manual door release.” Ruiner watched her worm her way in. “Ever done this before?’

“Yeah,” She said. “Though it’s worth noting that eventually led us to a dormant Decepticon super weapon and basically started this whole mess. But that’s probably just a coincidence.” Road Rage cursed silently as she dragged herself with just her handless forearms through grime and dust, pushing out the access panel on the other side and tumbling out. Just as Ruiner said, the release lever was in plain view, and after a moment’s struggle, she managed to drag herself onto it and it dropped down, the door hissed open, slowly parting, and the others ran in.

“Good work!” Optimus gave her a thumbs up. He went to pick her up, but she actually managed to stand, much to his amazement.

“I think shuttling my functions around rebooted some things.” She said. “I’m good to walk, at least. What about Convoy?”

“What about me?” He said, standing behind them, looking no worse for wear. Road Rage smiled, and he gave her an informal salute.

“Good to have you back.” Ironhide said.

“I apologise for letting myself be disabled.” He moved quickly into the hallway. “But as I can only assume Scourge has moved on, we haven’t time to waste.”

“You’re right.” Soundwave said, pulling himself out of the rubble. He limped into the middle of the room, Apache stood next to him, clutching his damaged chest. “You don’t have any time left. At all.” Soundwave transformed, spreading his massive wings an screeching at a blood-curdling pitch. Summoned by the wail, more monstrous robots poured in. At least a dozen, and all switching to their beast forms along with Apache. Soundwave blurted out a sonic scream that knocked all the Autobots down, save Road Rage who was blocked by the edge of the door. She saw her friends, prone behind her, and the assemblage of monsters before her. She hooked her arm under the door’s lever and threw it back up, the heavy doors began to shut. She hit the lever hard with her elbow, breaking it off.

“No!” Optimus shouted, unable to sit up from the blast. “Road Rage, don’t! Please you don’t have to-!”

“You’d better hurry.” She smiled as the doors closed. “I’ll buy you some time.” Optimus scrambled to his feet as quick as he could, and bolted for the gap as it narrowed, but was too late. The doors slammed shut. He pounded on it, then ran to the lever. He tried reattaching it, against Ironhide’s insistence to calm down. He tried moving the broken nub with his fingers, but didn’t have the leverage. Ironhide tried to calm him down, but Optimus shoved him away and began to kick the door. Ironhide grabbed his arm and turned him to look him in the eye.

“She’s buying us time!” Ironhide shouted. “We have to stop Scourge, and the sooner we do that, the sooner we can come back for her!”

“Your friend is right.” Convoy said. “We have to go.” He turned away from the doors and quietly walked down the shaft.

“She’s doing this for you, you stupid idiot!” Optimus yelled at Convoy. “She cares about you, and you can’t even go above a monotone to acknowledge it!” Optimus pointed at Convoy, jabbing him with his finger. Convoy said nothing, his expression impossible to read. He continued his deafening silence as he merely turned around and transformed, racing of down the shaft in pursuit of Scourge. Optimus glowered at him, took one last solemn look at the door behind them, and followed.

******

“Alright, Roady,” Road Rage said to herself as she stared at the door. “Let’s not mess this up.” She turned around to face the creatures before her. A myriad of different animals, all very vicious, all very angry looking. And front and center was Soundwave, in bat form, looking the most furious of them all.

“I was going to offer you mercy.” Soundwave said. “Why couldn’t you just have listened? Understood?” Road Rage ignored him and evaluated her enemies. Most were mid-sized, but there was a large pachyderm in the back. Claws, fangs, and stingers were everywhere. Road Rage felt her spark sink a bit, but all she had to do was put them off busting the door down until Optimus won. Simple, she thought. Optimus has done harder things before and come out on top. She felt pride in him, and Ironhide, and everyone else. Even herself.

“But no,” Soundwave continued a rant she hadn’t heard. “Now, you‘ll die. Scourge was adamant about keeping you alive. But I couldn’t hold this lot back if I wanted to. I regret this, Road Rage, but not as much as you will.”

“Whatever.” She said.

“Scourge will be disappointed.” Soundwave shook his head. “Though they won’t be-” He held a wing out towards the monsters around him. “After all, that old relic wasn’t much of a challenge for them. They prefer a fiercer fight.”

“What?” Road Rage said.

“Jetfire.” Soundwave said. “He proved ineffective against these numbers.” Road Rage felt a part of her tear inside. She refused to believe it, that Jetfire was dead. Everything became numb, and her hearing sounded like it was underwater. She felt fire inside, her body bristled, her forearms opened as her hands, fused back together, shot out in fists. She looked up, her eyes glowing pure white. The crest above her eyes clicked forward, sections above each eye folded down to cover her mouth, and the whole thing slid in place to conceal her face. Soundwave made a coo, impressed. Her internal diagnostics went haywire. Every internal system maxed out as her spark output redlined. She shot forward like a bullet. Soundwave leapt into the air just in time to avoid her, leaving the badger behind him to have his head plunged into the floor with a single, devastating punch. The band of animals erupted as Road Rage leapt from one to the other, using her size and speed to avoid their atatcks. Each one fought over the others to get a piece of her as she used the confusion to elude them, taking focused pot shots at weak spots like knees and lower backs. A bear grabbed her by the arm as she whirled around it, twisting it’s neck painfully, she narrowly directed it into the path of a scorpion’s stinger. She leapt off the bear, and swung under the tail, kicking a giant mantis right into Apache. She pulled the tail free of the bear, intent on stinging someone else, when the scorpion transformed and swung a vicious right hook. She ducked, then dodged a left, then punched it in the gut. She kicked out it’s knee and shoved it face-first into the maw of a crocodile that lunged at her. She leapt down onto it’s mouth, clamping it closed on the scorpion as she ran the length of it’s back, jumping off the crocodile’s tail and grabbing Soundwave by his short legs. She swung her legs forward to throw him off balance, and he twisted. She fell and was knocked out of the air by a gorilla with a snake’s head and tail. It’s prehensile tail wrapped around her neck and threw her back at the crocodile, who transformed to grab her. She coiled midair and sprung off its shoulders, then pushed off the wall, and delivered a vicious strike to it’s jaw. The gorilla-snake tackled her and attempted to crush her in it’s arms. She struggled, unable to force her way free. The creature screamed in pain as she forced her vestigial wings into it’s chest, breaking them off but freeing herself. She was body-checked into the all by Apache, who roared a horrible howling scream. She got up, shaking, and wiped her chin. He charged again. He swiped, she ducked. He punched, she dodged. She struck him once in the chest, swung but missed his jaw. He punched her hard in the side, then grabbed her arm and twisted her to the ground. She wrapped around his arm and fulcrumed herself to flip him over, landing on top of him, and beat him senseless. The mantis caught her arm and tried to pull her off, but she jabbed the spike on her knee into the joint of it’s claw, dislodging it but injuring herself when she twisted. She swung with the claw, knocking the mantis aside. Apache kicked her into the grip of the gorilla-snake, who held her as it tried to bite her with a venom-soaked teeth. She grabbed the fangs in her hands, struggling against it. She forced the snake head down into it’s own arms, injecting itself. It reeled back in pain, and she grabbed the head by it’s flared sides, and ran it straight into Apache, injecting him as well. Road Rage tumbled off the two primates, shaking, battered, and twitching for more. Every systems warning imaginable blared in her head, driving her crazy. Smoke vented from the sides of her head. She shook it, manually silencing the alerts. Her hands were mangled. She noticed parts of her body were missing, nixing the possibly of transforming. And there were still six creatures left standing, patiently waiting for her to wear herself out. Soundwave stood in front of them, in robot mode.

“Scourge was right.” He said. “But no matter how bright, all fires eventually die out when there’s nothing left to burn.” Road Rage tried to speak, but nothing came out. She was coming down, the intensity was melting away, and she felt really, really heavy. Soundwave stared her down with his featureless face, then looked up. He dived out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by rubble, and Jetfire, who broke in from the ceiling. The massive Decepticon squashed four of the smaller animals, and stabbed one through the shoulder with his sword. The final creature, an antlered hybrid beast, charged. Spiral leapt off from behind Jetfire, flying between the antlers, grabbing them as she did. Her momentum pulled the hybrid’s head back, and bent him backwards in an arch. Jetfire placed a hand on the hybrid’s chest, and pushed down, bending the creature painfully in half, disabling it. Soundwave jumped into the air, transformed as he dodged a swing of Jetfire’s sword, and flew out of the hole in the ceiling. Spiral ran over to Road Rage.

“Holy hell, Roady-” She helped her up. “What’d you do to yourself?”

“You’re…” Road Rage’s face returned to normal. “…Okay… good.”

“Yeah, we’re both fine.” Spiral said. “It was close, but I was able to back him up once I got above the temple. Gotta say, mountain climbing is pretty difficult without any gear.”

“Hello.” Jetfire said, pleasantly. He looked subtly concerned when he saw her state, “Are you alright?”

“Better now.” Road Rage sighed, and smiled. “Optimus… the others went through that door, we have to-” Jetfire punched the door, denting it inward. He pounded and pried it off it’s hinges, throwing the massive metal slabs across the room.

“Whoa.” Spiral uttered. He scooped up Road Rage in his arms as Spiral hopped onto his back, and together they entered the dark corridor.

 

OH FUCK THIS CHAPTER WAS JAM PACKED WITH SO MUCH EPIC!!!

 

Chapter Twenty: Error
​

“How are those samples coming along, Spiral?” Botanica asked without looking up from her monitor.

“The nanomolecular plating has bonded brilliantly, ma’am.” Spiral said, handing Botanica the notes. Botanica put her own work on pause for a moment to proof-read. Spiral stood straight, arms behind her back. “I sequenced the errant DNA strands just as you specified, and documented all reactions according to their Phobos-Perceptor category for convenience.”

“Impeccable work,” Botanica admitted. “And submitted in triplicate. Thoughtful and thorough. However, these two copies-” Botanica displayed the notes side by side to Spiral. “Don’t match. There’s a grammatical inconsistency.”

“Oh,” Spiral’s eyes darted back and fourth. “I’m so sorry.”

“A silly little mistake,” Botanica said. “But one which changes the context dramatically.”

“It won’t happen again.” Spiral politely bowed. Botanica smiled as she nodded, and waved her away. Ironhide approached her next.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” He said with a fluid, upper crust accent. “The chairman of the board wants to remind you of the indoctrination ceremony this week? He says it’s been moved up a day, and apologises profusely as well as giving his thanks once more for your invaluable contribution to the scientific community.”

“That’s nice.” Botanica said, continuing on with her work. “Tell him the rescheduling is fine by me.” Ironhide gave a polite nod. Botanica sighed as she finished the mundane task of recording the status of her experiments, and jumped with a start when Optimus leaned in next to her.

“So, this is it?” He said.

“You startled me.” Botanica muttered as she finished her notes. “I told you not to sneak up on me when I’m working.”

“Poor Botanica.” Optimus said. “So oblivious. Though I suppose I should be more understanding. My first time was about as confusing.”

“What are you talking about?” She said, not understanding. Optimus looked around the lab. It was pristine, white, idyllic. Ironhide, Spiral and Road Rage milled about performing various tasks.

“I suppose we don’t have time to really acclimate you.” Optimus shrugged. “What’s the human expression? Tearing off the bandage?” Optimus sighed, shrugged, and left Botanica’s desk and approached Road Rage.

“Road Rage, is it?” Optimus asked. “I’m so sorry, I’m really terrible with names.”

“That’s me.” She said, chipper. “You know who I am, Opti-” Optimus grabbed Road Rage’s head and wrenched it clean off of her body. Botanica screamed in shock. Ironhide looked in disbelief as a jet of flame erupted from Optimus’ mouth, burning him to cinders. Spiral stood, frozen, as Optimus merely looked at her, his gaze freezing her in place. “Go away.” He uttered, and Spiral, like dust caught in the wind, vanished. Botanica was shocked.

“This can’t be happening…” She held a shaking hand to her head. Her gaze dropped. No, it really couldn’t be happening, she thought.

“Now you understand.” Optimus looked her in the eyes, and his colour began to fade. Cracks formed across his body, and a dull red glow seeped through like molten rock. His body crumbled away as a larger, darker, more jagged robot emerged. Scourge, in his Earth form, looked over himself with discontent. “Pardon me…” He said, as the process repeated, this time Scourge emerging in his current, animalistic form. “Seems my subconscious isn’t up to date.”

“Is that where we are?” Botanica asked.

“More or less.” Scourge explained. “Think of this as a mental airlock. A forced dream state to adjust our psyches to the level as Ganymede’s. Soundwave rather hastily designed it when we saw just how… abstract communicating with Ganymede had been. I haven’t had the chance to test it before now.”

“Let me guess,” Botanica crossed her arms. “You wanted someone expendable?”

“Oh, you are far from expendable.” Scourge placed a hand on her shoulder. “But yes, I needed you to ‘scout ahead’ as it were, in case it didn’t work, as Ganymede wouldn’t harm you. Myself, however…” Scourge shrugged emphatically.

“So now what?” Botanica asked.

“Now…” Scourge pointed across the “lab” which had become nothing more than an empty white room now. A bizarre distortion existed in the corner now. Botanica strained her eyes, but it wouldn’t focus, and despite not moving, never seemed to stay still. Like a mirage. She clenched her fists, steeling herself. All she had to do was stall. She knew, somehow, Optimus would put an end to this. Having Scourge in here with her was ideal, as long as she kept him distracted. She drifted over to the distortion, Scourge keeping close proximity. She tentatively extended her hand to the fuzzy shimmer, as did he.

“Now things get… unpredictable.” Scourge said. Botanica felt a wave hit her. Like a shockwave from a sonic boom. She was sat on the ground, an awkward position given her anatomy. She attempted to stand, but hit her head on an invisible force. It was like she was trapped within a box. Everything was black, until she noticed she wasn’t alone. A small, white figure sat cross-legged in front of her. It was vaguely robotic, but not entirely. It wasn’t unlike the popular depiction of a Protoform, though not scientifically correct. Like an outsider’s recollection of one. It had no face, and sat with hunched posture.

“Ganymede?” Botanica asked, but her voice sounded odd. She heard it in her head, but not through her ears. Regardless, the plain figure nodded. Botanica was taken aback. It had developed what could be called a full identity. The prospects had her giddy to investigate, but she also knew the risk of being interfaced with something so unknown. She had to go slowly, not to ‘scare’ it in this delicate state of mind.

“Do you remember me?” Botanica asked. It nodded again. Fascinating, she thought. Not it’s memory, but it’s reserved method of communication. It didn’t bombard her with information, or act awkwardly forward or literal. It’s almost as if it were examining her as she was it. She remembered what she was here to do.

“I won’t.” A booming voice, though not especially loud, reverberated through her ‘being’ like the shockwave she’d felt a moment ago. Botanica was shocked.

“Won’t what?” She asked.

“He’s here.” It said. Botanica realised now, Ganymede could read her thoughts. She was about to answer when Ganymede held up a finger to its face, the universal sign for quiet. Coupled with its warning, she could only assume Scourge’s consciousness was present, but not interactive.

“I have so many questions I want to ask.” Botanica held out her hands, looking at them for a long time, composing the words in her head. “I’ve fantasized about this. About being able to just… speak with you. Glimpsing your infinite knowledge.”

“You have that chance.” It said.

“I do.” Botanica smiled. “And yet, I really don’t have the time.”

“He hurts people.”

“He does.”

“He hurt them with me.” The simplistic avatar’s head dropped a bit. “He knows how to make me do things.”

“I won’t let him.” Botanica assured the avatar. “In fact, I know how to lock him out forever. I only need brief access to your subdirectories.” She held out her hand. The avatar looked at her, longingly, as if relieved at her presence. It took her hand, and the metaphorical visualizations transmogrified into the pragmatic lines of code that sat atop Ganymede’s brain functions. Botanica’s presence coasted by Ganymede’s as she was granted access to his cerebral functions. She “reached” for its inhibitions, and began dissecting them. Ganymede felt fear and worry at this sudden attack. She continued to rip away at its higher processes, borrowing a hole into its subconscious. Ganymede’s brain was alight with questions and concerns, but “Botanica’ acknowledged none of them. Instead, after she had cleared a path to its subconscious, her mental presence shifted, as if a glitch. It stuttered, shook, and split. Botanica’s mental faculties restored as Scourge’s own will delved into the open hole. Botanica regained awareness, realising “where” she was, and how Scourge had piggybacked on her own consciousness. She frantically tried to pull him back, out of the defenceless Ganymede’s mind.

“Too late.” Scourge’s unmistakably voice echoed. In a dizzying instant, all three mental avatars were transported back to the “surface.” Botanica looked at Scourge, who stood confidently.

“What did-?” She began.

“I freed him from the burden of conscience.” Scourge said. “In fact, I freed him of a great many things. Choice, thought. For the time being at least.” Scourge turned to her, approaching slowly. “Now I can quite literally have him do whatever I want. I suppose I always could have, but I lacked a convincing disguise he would open up to.” Scourge loomed over her, his mental avatar growing to symbolize his control. “Now all I need you to do is stay here. Forever.”

*****

“We’re almost at the end!” Nightbird said, accelerating down the long shaft towards the chamber.

“How is this not a trap?” Ruiner asked. “He must know we’re coming! Are we just gonna rush headlong into it?”

“Do we have a choice?” Optimus said. “Time isn’t a luxury we can waste!”

“I agree with Optimus,” Convoy said. “The faster we drive, the less time Scourge has to prepare.”

“I know we decided not to kill him,” Ironhide said. “But I’m absolutely going to break his arms and legs for taking Botanica when we catch him.” Optimus couldn’t help but be tempted to agree, but held his comment when he saw light ahead.

“We made it!” Ruiner exclaimed with joy. Spirits dropped as the light approached fast, thunderous, and burning red and orange.

“Reverse!” Convoy shouted, the Autobots slamming on their brakes and doing just that. They quickly moved away from the jet of flame. All except Ironhide, who braved the fire and burst from the shaft’s exit into a massive, spherical room. He braked hard, skidding into Robot mode, ready to fight. But the room was empty. The other Autobots arrived and transformed, Optimus searching the room.

“Where did he go?” Optimus examined the frustratingly ornate walls that were a perfect hiding place.

“That was real fire, was it?” Ruiner scratched his head. “That wasn’t like a hologram or something stupid like that?”

“Oh, it was real.” Ironhide said, still sizzling.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Ruiner asked, waving away the smoke coming from his armour. Ironhide shrugged.

“There!” Optimus pointed to the center of the room. A raised platform spiralled up from the floor, and stood atop was the unmistakable green figure of Botanica. Optimus, sprinted for it, Ironhide and Convoy close behind. Ruiner and Nightbird followed, only to be cut off by Scourge landing in front of them in beast mode. He said nothing, instead lashing out with a vicious swipe from his massive claws, nearly taking Ruiner’s head off. Optimus stopped and turned.

“Go!” Nightbird urged him. “We’ll keep him busy.”

“You’ll regret that heroism.” Scourge said matter-of-factly. He pounced on Nightbird, but she slipped away as Ruiner leaped and struck Scourge in the jaw with his heel. She drew the sword and blaster of Nightscream’s, combining them into the oversized blade, and swung. Scourge twisted as he transformed, drawing his own ruby red sword, and the blades clashed. He pushed her sword away as Ruiner leapt onto his back, grabbing Scourge by the antlers and yanking his head back. Nightbird swung her sword, and Scourge turned his back to it, her blade stopping millimetres from Ruiner, who sighed in relief. Scourge plucked Ruiner from his back and used him as a club to knock Nightbird away.

“I don’t know how long they can hold out.” Optimus watched the fight with concern from atop the alter-like platform.

“She’s out of it.” Ironhide waved his hand in front of Botanica’s face. She was plugged into an intricate array of wires and cables. Glowing tubes of coolant ran into a massive mainframe attached to Ganymede. “Scourge has been busy.”

“We can’t shut it down.” Convoy said. “We must work to reverse whatever Scourge has done, and quickly.” Convoy quickly typed on the console in front of it all, a holographic screen projecting above it. “The system won’t respond!”

“Are you locked out?” Optimus asked.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” Convoy nodded to Botanica’s motionless body, still stood staring into nothing. “It seems you can’t access it when someone’s inside already. The entire system interface is unavailable with her plugged in.”

“What’s going on in there?” Ironhide looked at Botanica’s blank expression.

“It seems Scourge’s plan is already in motion.” Convoy said. “The system is preparing… something I’ve never seen. It exceeds my understanding, but it looks like it’ll upload something big directly into Cybertron’s mainframe. I still can't stop it.”

“Probably whatever rigs the next upgrade.” Optimus said. “I’m going in after her. Convoy, you monitor us from the outside. As soon as I pull her out you find out what exactly it’s doing and stop it.” Optimus looked down. “If we don’t come back by the time it’s set to upload, destroy this mainframe.”

“No way you’re going in.” Ironhide said.

“Somebody has to!” Optimus pointed at the console.

“Exactly,” Ironhide placed a hand on his shoulder. “But not you. Let me go. I’m not letting you get killed again.”

“Ironhide-” Optimus began.

“Just let me do this.” Ironhide said. “You go help them. It’s time for someone besides you to have a hero moment.” Ironhide winked. Optimus smiled.

“Just don’t die, that’s my shtick.” Optimus gave him a firm handshake, and leapt down the alter. He landed next to Ruiner, and hoisted the Autobot onto his feet.

“Why’d we think two would be enough?” Ruiner clutched his dented chest. “He kicked all our asses before. Why is now different?”

“Because now we can’t afford to lose.” Optimus said. “We need to buy Ironhide and Convoy some time.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Ruiner sighed. “Alright, let’s hit ‘im hard and fast.” Optimus gave him a curt nod, and the two sprinted towards Scourge, still exchanging blows with Nightbird. The Decepticon turned, fist reared towards Optimus, who ducked back, knuckled scraping his brow. Ruiner leapt for another flying kick, and caught Scourge in the jaw once again. Optimus delivered quick, sharp blows to Scourge’s midsection. Ruiner struck again with his own punches. The two continued swapping quick pot shots, not giving Scourge the opportunity to recover. Nightbird, exhausted from parrying, held her sword aloft, and levelled the tip. She charged, intent on finishing it now. Ruiner jumped out of the way, and Scourge was dead to rights until he transformed his hand into his dragon mode claw, and swung a powerful uppercut at the moment the sword was in his range. It shot upwards, embedded in the ceiling. Disarmed, Nightbird immediately got clear of his reach, hurling throwing knives to keep him at bay. She quickly transformed and sped up the walls of the spherical room after her sword. Optimus hooked Scourge’s arm with his tow cable, keeping him from pursuing. He swung his arm, unhooking himself, and wrapped the cable around Ruiner’s neck as the Autobot attacked. With he and Optimus linked, the two were effortlessly tossed aside long enough for Scourge to pick up his own sword, and tossed it like a javelin straight at Nightbird, impaling and pinning her to the wall.

“Nightbird!” Ruiner screamed as he untangled himself. He sprinted towards her, only for Scourge to rapidly switch modes and catch his leg in his jaws. His razor teeth shredded the Autobot’s armour, and would have dismembered him had Optimus not tackled the beats away. Ruiner stood and limped his way towards Nightbird, using the sculpted detail of the wall as foot and hand holds.

“Ignore… me…!” Nightbird struggled. “Just keep fighting!”

“Don’t speak!” Ruiner climbed, grasping the sword and trying to pull it free. His hands slipped off the handle, but he kept trying. Ruiner’s voice wavered, and he frantically tried every position for purchase on the embedded sword. “I’m sorry.” He whimpered. “God I’m just… so sorry, I’m sorry I took you to the outside world, I’m sorry I ruined your life, I’m sorry I never told you just how much I give a shit and… and I’m sorry I didn’t say this all sooner,” Ruiner dropped his head onto her chassis. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t hate you…” Nightbird’s speech was weakening. “…For taking me out to the city… I hated you for leaving so easily… and for never coming back and taking me with you.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Help… them…” Ruiner looked up as her voice cut out abruptly, eyes wide and flickering. He placed a hand on her, disbelieving, but was distracted by the sound of Optimus being thoroughly beaten by Scourge.

“I’ll be back for you.” Ruiner said softly. He pushed off the wall, falling down right onto Scourge’s back. Convoy watched from the platform above, and looked to Ironhide, plugged into Ganymede along with Botanica.

“Hurry back, Autobot.” Convoy said. “We’re running out of time…” Ironhide could only faintly hear the words as he felt vertigo. Everything was a swarm of abstract and unfocused thoughts and images. He’d jumped headlong into the system, and was unprepared for the experience. He steeled himself, and tried to focus on Botanica. If she was in here, she’d stand out from the distorted noise. He felt sick, but strained his CPU to search for her. He pinpointed the only static image in the swirl of ideas. It was her, stood bewildered in a torrent of information. Ironhide moved towards her. It felt like wading through thick tar with weighted boots. She looked hollow, like an after-image.

“Stay back!” She warned, but her words were swiftly overpowered by a surged of white noise. “He’s telling me everything! Everything he knows, everything there is to know!” She held her head. “He’s downloading everything into my consciousness. He can’t help it, Scourge made him do it, but it still-!”

“Then take my hand!” Ironhide stretched out his arm into the maelstrom.

“I can’t!” Botanica cried, but it was difficult to even hear her. “If I leave now, the information surge will burn out my processor!” She looked at him with sadness. “Go back, now. If you enter this tornado of information, you’ll be unable to return either.” She smiled solemnly. “I’m sorry, Ironhide.”

“Don’t apologize yet!” Ironhide turned away, back to the distorted, unfocused space around him. He tried to think. Ganymede was feeding her information, which means his consciousness should logically be somewhere. At least, Ironhide hoped as much. Ironhide tried to “focus” on the most unfocused area. He was hoping, praying, Ganymede would be trying to hide himself. It was nearly impossible to move through a plane of consciousness towards an indistinguishable entity. Like crawling blind, underwater, with no sound or sense of touch or balance. He could feel he was on the right path when the haze around him became more deliberately distorted. He felt under attack. Ganymede was defending itself. Ironhide continued moving in this abstract world, until he could actually see a plain, white figure through the eye of the storm. The attack was unbearable, Ironhide almost felt as if he was being driven insane. He reached out, banking that his projected physical form would at least behave appropriately to another, and clutched the white robot’s featureless face. The attacks hit him like tidal waves, but Ironhide pulled back his other arm, and brutally slugged the avatar in it’s empty face. It flinched, and Ironhide felt satisfied his gamble paid off. He hit it again, his mental counterattacks manifesting as physical strikes against Ganymede’s subconscious. He hit it again, and the plain face shattered, revealing an ominous red glow from a dark void. It seemed unnatural, at odds with the rest of Ganymede’s chosen form. It felt abhorrent, but Ironhide only care that the flood of information had ceased. Botanica watched as the world around her calmed.

“Get out…” She murmured to herself as the information forced upon her left. “Get it all out…” She composed herself, and looked at Ironhide as if everything was fine. “Thank you.”

“All I did was hit him.” Ironhide shrugged. “About all I’m good at, really.”

“Even still, you saved me from what surely would have been a horrible death.” Botanica smiled. “Though I admit there’s not many fates I’d find more enticing. At least I’d die enlightened.”

“I’d rather live ignorant.” Ironhide laughed, Botanica joining him in agreement. The two exchanged emphatic glances before Botanica offered her hand.

“Let’s go.” She said. “There’s still things left to do.”

“Lead the way.” Ironhide accepted, and felt himself pulled up. The next thing he knew, the two were back in the real world. The two were only momentarily disoriented, but recovered quickly as the sound of battle echoed from behind them.

“About time you two got back.” Convoy stood next to them. “They could really use your help down there.”

“Go.” Botanica placed a hand on Ironhide’s shoulder. He nodded and leapt down the alter. Botanica turned back to Convoy. “Scourge installed a shell-like program in Ganymede, essentially robbing him of conscious thought. Ganymede is still a computer, and Scourge essentially reduced him to just that.”

“An incredibly powerful, integrated computer.” Convoy mused. “Connected to Cybertron like this, Scourge, or anyone, with access to this console essentially controls the world as we know it.”

“Not for long.” Botanica tapped her fingers across the console. “I can’t delete the program for inside. Scourge laid precautions. But I can simply command Ganymede to cease all functions, then delete the program-”

“Let me.” Convoy said. “You should be with your friends.”

“Patently ridiculous.” Botanica said. ‘”I’m of no use in combat without my weapons, whereas you are quite combat-ready. Likewise, my programming skills are far above-” Convoy grabbed Botanica’s arm tightly, pulling it from the console. He lifted her off the ground, shock across her face.

“No, really-” Convoy tossed her down the Alter with ease. “I insist.” Botanica braced herself as she landed on the ground, the fighting Autobots and even Scourge, momentarily distracted by the incident.

“Convoy, what the hell are you doing?” Optimus demanded. Convoy said nothing, instead he looked at the large pipes of coolant that led to the system around Ganymede. He held out his hand, energy pooling and swirling in the palm, which he tossed like a disk. It struck the coolant line, erupting it as green-blue gas and liquid spilled out, covering the floor between him and the Autobots. Ironhide quickly scooped up Botanica before the subzero liquid touched her.

“What‘s going on?” Ruiner asked. “Did he just back stab us?”

“Call it…” Convoy thought a minute, before turning to a smug tone. “Pulling a Starscream.” Optimus’ spark sunk in his chest.

“How…” Optimus asked. “How do you know who Starscream is?” Optimus didn’t get his answer before Jetfire burst out of the shaft exit behind them, Road Rage and Spiral in hand.

“What’s going on?” Spiral asked. “Are we winning?”

“Convoy just threw Botanica down the thing!” Ruiner pointed. Road Rage looked up at Convoy, stood atop the platform, yellow eyes unflinchingly staring down at them all.

“Convoy…?” Road Rage began.

“It seems you were all deceived.” Scourge said. “We all were, I suppose.” Optimus stepped forward, just out of reach of the coolant pool. He locked eyes with the turncoat Autobot, his fists clenched.

“Take it off.” Optimus said. Convoy laughed.

“At least one of you figured it out.” He said, reaching for his helmet. “Better late than never, I suppose.” He pressed a release button, and the faceplate retracted, giving him room to slip the helmet off of his head. He casually tossed it down the steps of the Alter. His silver-grey head was smaller from missing armour plates, damaged, and his right eye was missing along with most of his jaw, but the likeness was unmistakable.

“Megatron.” Optimus seethed. “How?”

“Like I said, I pulled a Starscream.” Megatron’s voice was tinny and synthetic. “Keep your enemies close, play dumb. Or in this case, play Autobot. The difference is negligible.”

“But how?” Spiral asked. “You’re in prison, locked up and mode-locked to a useless slab! You couldn’t have escaped, someone would have seen your empty cell.”

“Oh, it’s not empty.” Megatron said. “If any guard or monitor drone were to check, my body is indeed still there, uselessly collecting dust. However-” Megatron knocked on his head. “There may be some missing pieces. Luckily prisoners now have the option of hiding their heads. A small dignity, but useful.”

“Impossible.” Botanica said. “You couldn’t escape as just a head.”

“I didn’t escape, I was freed.” Megatron sighed. “You see, while I was sentenced to absolute solitary, my every loyal, ever lovely cohort Strika plead innocence. Claimed I had coerced her, and I corroborated the whole thing. As such, she volunteered for reprogramming, and was successfully converted into a productive member of society. After all, it’s not like she ever knew someone adapt at programming who could’ve built in safeguards for just that.”

“But…” Road Rage held up her hand, at a loss for words.

“But how did she break me out?” Megatron mocked a naïve tone. “Well, it’s amazing what an aesthetic overhaul, falsified credentials, and name change can do. They really should screen prison guards more thoroughly.”

“But the body?” Optimus asked. “If she really did smuggle your head out, where did you get that body from?”

“That’s the best part.” Megatron held his hands together. “Strika was so loyal. She’d give anything for me and the Decepticon cause I represented. Make any sacrifice.” Optimus felt anger unlike any he’d felt before, and sprung over the pool of dangerous coolant in front of him, landing on the steps and sprinting full speed up to Megatron. He tackled Megatron into the console, threw a punch, but Megatron blocked it. He swung again, and Megatron dodged, elbowing Optimus in the jaw. He pushed the Autobot away with his leg, and brought his arms together. The wheels on his arms, raised up, interlocked, and settled on his right arm, telescoping out into a barrel. Megatron fired point blank into Optimus’ chest, a powerful blast of energy threw him back down the steps, over the coolant, landing in a heap before his fellow Autobots.

“Satisfaction.” Megatron mused.

“But… that can‘t be true.” Road Rage said. “Everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve told me.”

“I suppose that is the tragedy of it.” Megatron shrugged. “There were truths in what I said. The best lies often contain shreds of reality. But sadly, dear Road Rage, I never did care one iota if you ever lived or died. Really, I planned to murder you all long ago. But before I met you, I found out, through whispers and rumours among the seedy underworld, that Scourge still prowled about. I knew you of all Autobots would make it your God-given duty to hunt that scoundrel down, allowing me the opportunity for revenge against him as well. Imagine my internal delight when it turned out the computer for the tetraship still survived, and taken by him no less as Swindle revealed.” Megatron laughed. “Two for the price of one. At that point I knew I had to play carefully, but the number of times I wanted to simply-” Megatron pretended to fire his arm cannon. “-the lot of you. Inconceivably difficult to restrain myself.”

“You’re sick.” Optimus spat. “Deranged.”

“Successful.” Megatron added. “That’s all that really matters. They’ll add me to the history archives for this…” Megatron placed a hand on the console behind him. “Or perhaps I’ll do it myself? It’s honestly the least I'm capable of now. Say goodbye to this golden Cybertron you’ve come to know, Autobots. A world governed by technology, every facet of every life run through networks and algorithms, all in the name of convenience. A world a slave to its own creations. A world now controlled by me.”

 

Ho fuck. I did not see that one coming. Now I need to go back and read over some of Convoy's dialogue.

 

WOW!!!!
WOOOOOW!!!!!
HOLY HELL!!!!

 

I was worried some of the earlier hints were too blatant. Spiral's "Well, unless one of you is secretly a jet in disguise..." and Convoy's "Don't look at me..." being one.  

 

Oh shit.....WOOOOOOOW!!!!

 

Chapter Twenty One: Brought To Their Knees​

Optimus pulled the door closed behind him until it clicked, and slotted the key card through the electric lock, before lifting the lock itself off it’s mount and slipping it into his side compartment. He took one last look at the old shop, ignoring the rain drops that momentarily distorted his view of the sign. The rain began to pour, and he turned away and began walking down the sidewalk. The rain was so heavy Optimus could see the waves of the wind, which forced him to walk. He didn’t care, he didn’t really have anywhere to go, so it didn’t matter to him how fast he went. He walked, head hung low, shoulders hunched, ignoring every passer by. They did the same as they materialized from the dark into the dim light of the street lamps overhead. At this hour, with this weather, they were the only source of light save for the occasional headlights of any rig or truck that could manage the conditions speeding by. Despite this, the night seemed especially empty. And cold. Optimus kept an eye open for any tavern or bar that was still open. He spotted one small building peaking out, light coming from it’s two windows. Optimus stepped past a noisy heating unit next to the door and entered. It was a nicely lit, old-fashioned pub that favoured the outdated aesthetic of orange and brown. Pictures of nobody important hung on the walls, the light fixtures only somewhat matched each other, and the whole place smelled of internal combustion and homeliness. He pulled up next to a grey and red ‘bot hunched over the bar, and silently pointed to his choice of fuel, the bartender likewise acknowledging without a word. Optimus placed the fist-sized glass directly below his head as he slouched over, trying to forget the misery of the day. He tried to forget Pax, and what had happened, He looked to the holographic screen that shuttered as it projected above the bar. News of the war played, clips of robots deploying, platoons in the heat of battle, and uncensored footage of robots dying for no real reason while an emotionless anchor narrated it all with cynical detachment. Unsurprisingly, the reality that Optimus’ problems were pretty small in the grand scheme of things did not bring him comfort. Instead he wondered why good ‘bots had to die out there just so that good ‘bots could still die back home. He took a sip and scratched the chipped paint from his forehead. He’d let himself go, but much like a lot of things right now, he didn’t really care.

“What a mess.” The light grey ‘bot next to him commented.

“Yeah.” Optimus said. He questioned why he did, but something about the other ‘bot’s tone felt sympathetic.

“And for what?” He said, neither he nor Optimus raised their heads to see each other’s face, but out of his peripheral vision Optimus saw the red striped logo of a delivery drone. An everybot. The postal worker continued. “I can’t even remember what this war was about. It’s technically been going on for centuries.”

“Hard to believe.” Optimus muttered. “Anything lasting that long.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it was about something,” The robot said. “But is that ever on the news? Do you ever see Sentinel Prime talk about that? No, each side just prattles on about crushing the enemy and winning in the name of whatever gets them more sympathy.” The ‘bot took a sip of his own drink. “It’s an endless cycle.”

“People like the status quo, I guess.” Optimus shrugged. “At this point, it’d be weird to not be at war. But people still die even at home.”

“True.” They said, Optimus thought he caught the motion of a nod in the corner of his eye. The ‘bot tapped his finger on the rim of his glass. “Guess you know about that?”

“I guess.” Optimus sighed.

“Well, sorry for your loss.” The stranger commented. “Not that condolences from someone you’ve never met mean much.”

“I don’t even know what he died of.” Optimus murmured. “They couldn’t even tell me.”

“That’s rough.” The stranger drank. “You think it’s better or worse that he died at home, and not out there?”

“He didn’t die at home.” Optimus took a sip. “He died in prison.”

“Oh.”

“This world sucks.” Optimus said. “At least in the war, you know ho’s good and who’s bad. Things are black and white.”

“But do you?” The ‘bot said. “You may think that, but only because you’re on the Autobots’ side of things.”

“So?” Optimus shrugged. “It’d be the same on the other side. Each one only believes what they want them to believe. But it’s something, it’s not… it’s something. Like you said, the whys of it don‘t matter. You could swap the names and colours, and everyone would be just as fanatic.”

“I suppose you’re right.” They said. “Still, you ever consider enlisting?” Optimus mulled the prospect over in his head.

“Maybe.” He said. “Maybe it’d be worth it. Maybe it’d be like a sort of release, where your life and problems don’t matter. Your world is dictated for you, and you just go through the motions.”

“I meant as an opportunity.” The stranger said. “To start over, make of yourself what you want. Make something… better.”

“Leave your old life behind.” Optimus nodded.

“And start anew.” The stranger said, laughing. “That should be their enlisting slogan. A fresh start, where you can shoot for the stars!” He took a swig of his drink. The stranger paid for his in physical money, and placed double that amount in front of Optimus as he walked towards the door.

“What’s this for?” Optimus asked, the stranger not turning to look at him, Optimus only seeing his back.

“For your drink, and one to pour out for your friend.” The ‘bot waved without turning, and left the bar. Optimus looked at the cup in front of him and didn’t bother finishing it.

*****

“I can’t believe you’d do that, Megatron.” Optimus said, staring at him from below the platform, clutching his damaged chest. “How could you sacrifice your only loyal follower?”

“Because I hate you.” Megatron sneered. “I hate you all, because your grim reminders of just how foolish I was. How… deluded into thinking I was something I wasn’t, and the failure that comes with such overstatement. But not anymore.” Megatron held up his hand as it transformed into a data-uplink plug. “Once I upload my consciousness into Ganymede, I’ll be fully integrated with the entire network. I will quite literally be one with the planet.”

“That’s not possible…” Ironhide looked to Botanica. “Is it?”

“If he were to merge his consciousness with Ganymede’s processor…” Botanica regretfully admitted. “Yes, he’d have the computing power to not only maintain his individuality over such a vast network, but assert his control with no real threat of reprisal. No system on Cybertron is nuanced or robust enough to combat a threta that sophisticated, and with Teletraan acting as the basis for just about every one of them…”

“I’ll be unstoppable.” Megatron sighed, lower his tone so only he could hear himself. “It feels good to be able to say that.”

“Megatron,” Scourge shook his head. “You haven’t changed at all.” He transformed into his dragon form, belching a jet of flame at the coolant, which vaporized immediately. The steam exploded out, engulfing the room, and Scourge flew through the cloud cover to pounce Megatron. The Decepticons grappled, Megatron surprising Scourge with his strength, but still no match. The other Autobots leapt back as Megatron hit the ground in front of them, Scourge landing before him and swatting Megatron away with his tail. The two continued to fight away from the platform, Spiral cracking her knuckles.

“Let’s get in there!” She said, itching for battle.

“Not yet.” Optimus held her back. “Ganymede is our priority.”

“Yes,” Botanica agreed. “Besides, why waste energy fighting them both when we can merely wait for them to destroy one another?”

“Fair point.” Road Rage said.

“Botanica,” Optimus turned to here. “If we can’t disconnect Ganymede…”

“I understand.” Botanica said, solemn. “And if Ganymede were still himself, I’m sure he’d understand as well.”

“I’m sorry.” Ironhide said. Botanica turned to him, and was about to say something when a silver streak blew past them all. Botanica was grabbed as Soundwave rapidly ascended in the large room, but Spiral just managed to grab onto Botanica’s lower body, pulling her free. Ironhide managed to catch them both as Soundwave screeched.

“Great,” Ruiner said. “This freak again.” He looked to the wall where Nightbird was still pinned. “We gotta wrap this up quickly boys and girls. We’ve got injured back there!”

“Spiral and Ironhide, cover Botanica. Ruiner, Jetfire, you’re with me.” Optimus pointed to Scourge and Megatron still fighting across the room. “We can’t wait, we have to take them both out now.”

“What about me?” Road Rage said, still held in Jetfire’s arms. “I can still fight.”

“You’ve been through hell.” Optimus said.

“It’ll be worth it if we stop this.” Road Rage said.

“Fine.” Optimus relented. “Help Nightbird. Now everyone, move!” The Autobots broke apart, Jetfire gently letting Road Rage down as she moved as fast as she could to Nightbird. She scaled the wall, looking with shock at the severity of her injuries.

“Road Rage, is it?” Nightbird said, weakly. “I’m relieved, not to mention impressed you survived.”

“It was cathartic.” Road Rage focused on un-pinning Nightbird. “Maybe if I… wiggle the sword a bit-” Nightbird yelled in pain as Road Rage attempted to remove the sword, the Autobot let go.

“Sorry!” Road Rage apologized.

“Road Rage, open the compartment on my… back left fender…” Nightbird instructed, Road Rage complying. Road Rage retrieved a handgun. She held the firearm, and felt a pit form inside her.

“You want me to…” Road Rage felt sick. “No, I won’t do it!”

“What?” Nightbird said. “I want you to take that pistol and keep fighting. Conserve your energy with ranged attacks to support your friends.”

“Oh!” Road Rage said. “I thought you wanted me to… you know…”

“Oh for heaven’s sake-” Nightbird’s voice distorted, she was getting weaker. “Listen, you must stop Scourge, but you can’t destroy Ganymede. If those creatures… are really the Templar under the spell of shell programs, only Ganymede will be able to reverse it.” Nightbird’s voice was incredibly quiet now. Road Rage nodded, and left her.

“Soundwave, please.” Botanica shouted as Ironhide and Spiral stood in front of her. “I am pleading with you! Don’t do this! Help us stop Megatron and Scourge!”

“Megatron?” Soundwave said, craning his head towards the fight below. Megatron fired repeatedly at Scourge and the Autobots, Optimus and Ruiner forced to duck behind the Decepticon for cover, much to his chagrin. In return he coiled his tail around Optimus’ neck, and squeezed.

“This is not-!” Optimus choked. “Going how I was… thinking it would!”

“And how did you think it would go!?” Ruiner pulled on Scourge’s tail, trying to free Optimus. Jetfire lumbered over, sword drawn, and swung. Scourge pulled his tail free just before losing it, only for Megatron to blast him in the back. Stunned, Megatron wasted no time shooting him again and again, until Scourge was a smoking, writhing mound on the ground. Optimus leapt over his body, tackling Megatron. The two fought for control of Megatron’s cannon, the weapon firing wildly. Ruiner ran towards them, but was pinned down by Scourge.

“I am losing patience!” He growled, looming over the Autobot with wings spread. Jetfire shoulder-checked into him, pushing the beast away. Their size and strength near equal, they entered a deadly game of mercy. Scourge stared down Jetfire, who didn’t flinch. “You picked the wrong side.” He said.

“Keep talking.” Jetfire tuned Scourge out as he fought not only against the Decepticon, but against his own fragile body, which threatened to give out under the strain.

“The reformatting technology we have-” Scourge said. “The key to real transformation… I could make you whole again, give you youth and power.”

“If I were a weaker ‘bot-” Jetfire struggled. “Perhaps I’d find that offer somewhat alluring. But I’d rather die than let you brainwash me into something I’m not.”

“Then die.” Scourge said plainly, and poured flame out of his mouth onto Jetfire. He screamed as the heat threatened to melt him, and growled in anger and frustration as he switched modes, fired his engines, and propelled them both straight into the wall, crashing right through it in fire and smoke.

“Jetfire!” Optimus screamed, still locked in combat with Megatron.

“Worry about yourself!” Megatron kneed Optimus in the midsection, giving enough slack to bring his cannon to bear. Ruiner tackled Megatron from the side, the blast going wild. Optimus took the opportunity to run over to the hole where the two Decepticons had crashed. There was snow and rubble outside, and both of them lay crumpled in the snow. Optimus turned back inside as he saw Megatron kick Ruiner down. He stood above him, cannon pointed at point blank. Optimus sprinted, but couldn’t make it in time. Four blasts went off, and Megatron flinched, Road Rage standing behind him with a pistol aimed at him. Two of her shots missed, but smoke trailed off Megatron’s back.

“Intrepid.” Megatron said as he turned to her. “You could stand to work on your aim, however.” He fired his cannon at her, but she was too fast. She got in close, and fired point blank into his leg. As he buckled, she elbowed him in the face, and used his recoil to fire a few more shots into his chest. His armour was too tough for them to be fatal, but it did cause him to fall back. Road Rage shakily stood above him, gun pointed at his malformed head.

“I am very tempted.” She said as Optimus and Ruiner approached. The three Autobots fell to their knees as a high-pitched scream assaulted their senses. Systems malfunctioned as the sonic wave affected all the functioning Autobots, Botanica, Ironhide and Spiral falling as well. Soundwave continued his sonic attack until everyone was on the ground, paralyzed, but conscious. He heaved from the effort, visibly drained, but transformed and landed on the platform.

“Megatron…” Soundwave dropped down to the floor below, standing above the former Decepticon leader. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I hoped I’d see you again.” Megatron stood, Soundwave shocked that he was unaffected. “Don’t look so surprised. Sonic attacks were a specialty of yours. Of course I’d take precautions.”

“So.” Soundwave said, now looking up to his former leader. “Will you try and sway me to your ways once more?”

“Soundwave.” Megatron sighed. “I once believed you were second only to Strika in terms of loyalty to me. You were diligent, hard-working, and brilliant beyond even my comprehension. Savant-like, you created for me weapons that I only had the most limited understanding of. Even now, one of your creations has given me the key to literal world domination. I could not be more grateful, despite your treachery. But I still loathe traitors.” Megatron placed the barrel of his cannon on Soundwave’s chest, and fired. Energy and metal exploded out the back of him as Soundwave fell to his knees, clutching at the hole in his chest. Megatron walked past him nonchalantly. “Your services are no longer required.”

“Do you know…” Soundwave’s voice distorted and lagged. “Why I chose to follow… Scourge? Because… for all his horrible deeds, and… for all his machinations… his goals at least weren’t entirely selfish.” Soundwave fell onto his back, the last of his life flickering away in his open chest. “I’d rather die following… someone like him, than someone… like… you.”

“Very well.” Megatron shrugged. He left Soundwave to expire, walking up to the platform where Ganymede sat, when his heel snagged. Optimus pulled on his tow cable, which was hooked through the tire on Megatron’s heel. From above, Ironhide struggled to rise, and leapt down the platform, tackling Megatron back. He rolled to his feet, Optimus stood behind him, Ironhide in front. Road Rage forced herself to stand as well, pistol in hand, and pointed. Megatron leapt to her, grabbing the gun and throwing it aside, and she immediately moved to sweep his legs. It didn’t work, Megatron letting out an unnatural, distorted chuckle. Optimus tried to grab Megatron, but weakened, only managed to grab his legs as he fell to the floor.

“Oh, now this is pathetic…” Megatron said, straining to drag Optimus along with him, the Autobot actually attempting to climb up him. Megatron grunted. “This…” He struggled, Optimus refusing to give up. “Won’t… stop… me!”

“I don’t care!” Optimus finally managed to stand up, and punched Megatron awkwardly in the back of his neck. Megatron backhanded him, but Optimus didn’t fall, his composure returning. Optimus kept hitting him, Megatron staggering more and more until he had enough. The Decepticon grabbed Optimus’ side, and fed energy into his hand, burning Optimus. The Autobot grabbed Megatron’s arm, and neither would let go.

“I have come too far, and risked too much.” Megatron said.

“You and me, both.” Optimus spoke through gritted teeth. Megatron squeezed his grasp and blew a chunk out of Optimus’ side, the Autobot falling back. Ironhide helped Road Rage up.

“He needs our help!” Road Rage said. “Megatron’s killing him out there!” Ironhide looked around, seeing the other Autobots still down, when his gaze drifted up. He pointed to the ceiling, Road Rage following his gesture upwards. She nodded.

“All I wanted to was to change the world-” Megatron said, beating Optimus. “Is that so wrong? A world where my name echoes through the streets in whisper and reverence!” He backhanded Optimus, the Autobot trying to get him in an arm hold, but Optimus was just too fatigued. Megatron wrapped his arm around Optimus’ neck, rolled him onto his shoulder, and fell backwards, slamming the Autobot into the ground. Optimus managed to elbow Megatron in the forehead, stunning him long enough to get back on his feet, their positions now reversed. “I wanted a world where, for just once, I kowtowed to no one. Where I was supreme ruler. A world where all unanimously served one, true cause: my cause. Tell me Autobot, is that really so different than the world now? A society that sees its own citizens to fight battles perpetrated by unaccountable figureheads that rotate on a regular basis. A society that pleads selfless ideals while letting foreign lands and worlds suffer because it’s somewhere else.” Megatron held out his hands. “At least I won’t pretend to be impartial.”

“Is that all it is to you, Megatron?” Optimus asked. “One big ego trip?”

“When confronted with absolute control, can you really say you’d choose any different?” Megatron asked. “You do realise you could do the same thing, right? You, Optimus, could just as easily integrate yourself with Cybertron’s network. Anything you want, just there at your fingertips. For selfish or selfless reasons, regardless, you could do it all. Save the world, rule the world, or even destroy it.”

“Not everyone’s as self-serving as you, Megatron.” Optimus said. “I don’t need power or control to be happy. I don’t need validation of my self worth.” Optimus sighed. “I just need a place to call my own. Why can’t you be satisfied with that?”

“Good question.” Megatron said, blasting Optimus back with his arm cannon. “I’ll have to give that some serious contemplation after I-” Megatron turned as he heard a grunt behind him. Ironhide fell to one knee, looking as though he had exerted himself. Megatron chuckled. “What, so weak you can’t even stand? And I thought you were the tough guy.” Megatron’s one good eye narrowed. “Wait… weren’t there two of you?” Megatron looked up and saw Road Rage, gripping the sword Nightbird had brought, prying it out of the roof it was embedded in. Megatron turned his cannon towards her, but she already pulled the weapon free, and fell towards him. She swung the blade, slicing his arm clean off, the cannon fired wild for a moment before it’s connection was severed. The sword buried itself in the floor, and Road Rage pulled the release lever, the bottom end detaching and falling right into Ironhide’s waiting hands, which brought the blaster to bear, and fired point blank. Megatron was flown back over Optimus, landing in a smouldering heap. Ironhide dropped the gun, it glowed a dull red and smoke puffed from various seams.

“I think I broke it.” Ironhide said. “Might have gripped it just a bit too hard.”

“Thanks.” Optimus smiled, throwing his arms over the two of them as they knelt on the floor, the three holding that pose for moments before Optimus remembered the other Autobots still disabled. “Check on the others.” He said. “I’m going to help Jetfire.” Optimus stood and limped towards the opening in the wall, Road Rage and Ironhide already tending to Ruiner and Spiral. Optimus continued limping, too exhausted and injured to walk properly, when he stopped dead in his tracks. His hands balled into fists, and his jaw clenched as he watched Scourge step through the hole. The Decepticon said nothing. Merely stood in silence. Each one waited for the other to make the first move. Scourge took a step forward, Optimus taking a step back. He kept reversing, slowly, until Optimus could pick up the shorter blade half of Nightbird’s sword.

“We have unfinished business.” Scourge said.

 

Oh, that just isn't fair...

 

......I really want Soundwave not to be dead (e__e

 

Just a head's up to you guys, I'm still on this, but I have serious writer's block. I know everything that I need to do, but it's like I forgot how to put ideas into words. Probably because the next chapter is likely going to be the last.