Chapter 15: Stormbreaker

*****

Tagan Heights, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date September 9, 2007 (approx.)


After millions of (Earth) years of fighting the planet Cybertron wore the scars of war all over its surface. It was not just the ruined cities, scorched plains, and ravaged landscapes, though, that spoke of the massive damage eons of warfare had left behind. The planet’s eco system had also taken a pounding. Apart from the nearly complete draining of the planet’s once vast resources of energy, several other phenomena previously unknown on the technological world had sprung up in recent (by Cybertronian measure) times.

Case in point, the electron storms.

Perceptor would not doubt have a very lengthy and wordy explanation handy as to what an electron storm actually was. Wheeljack, just as brilliant but more rooted in practical rather than theoretical science, would have told Marissa that they were a result of the once widespread use of wireless energy transmission, ancient systems deep underground that still tried to transmit energy to receivers that were no longer functional (or existent at all), which charged up the atmosphere and led to violent releases of ionized particles.

Non-genius Cybertronians simply called them electron storms and knew to take cover when one happened to hit. As could happen without warning at any given time. Even in the midst of a major battle for control of the Tagan Heights.

Marissa was in the middle of a violent dogfight with several Decepticon flyers when her sensors began to scream in alarm. All over the battlefield both flyers and ground troops broke off their current engagements and headed for whatever cover was available. Most of them had been through this hundreds, if not thousands of times. Marissa, though, was still new to this world. She hesitated a few previous seconds.

Then the storm hit.

All of Marissa’s onboard instruments began to short out and suddenly she was blind as every sensor that connected her to the world outside Thrymir’s body stopped working. Thankfully she was in jet mode, which left her less confined than she’d have been in robot mode. Even as she felt herself tumbling from the sky she used her natural arm (her cybernetic one every bit as dead as Thrymir) and pushed open the blind covering the cockpit canopy (wouldn’t do for outsiders to see the organic life form inside, after all). Which gave her a beautiful view of the ground approaching rapidly.

Several emergency backup systems sputtered to life, giving Marissa limited control. She pulled hard on her virtual control stick and managed to bring up Thrymir’s nose slightly before the ground rushed up to meet her. Marissa briefly blacked out as the jet hit the ground with bomb-like impact. Thankfully Wheeljack had taken her fragile body into account and included lots and lots of padding, so when she regained consciousness a short(?) time later, she was just feeling sore all over instead of feeling nothing at all.

The transparent canopy of the cockpit – cracked, but still whole - and the few working sensors showed that she had apparently crashed right into a warehouse and brought down the ceiling in the process. There was wreckage as far as she could see with only the barest bones of the previous structure still standing. Through a whole in the roof she could just see a piece of sky, which was filled with violent eruptions of energy.

“Well,” she muttered, “not the best way to find cover, but at least I’m not completely out in the open.”

She briefly considered disengaging from Thrymir, but quickly abandoned the notion. With her Headmaster suit on emergency power and her cybernetic limbs reduced to dead weight, she would be completely vulnerable. Besides, as long as the storm raged, there was nowhere to go. Electron storms could – she had been told – last minutes, hours, or even days. All she could do, it seemed, was wait it out. Hopefully her automatic repair systems would suffice to make her mobile again once the electromagnetic interference ceased.

She was about to settle in as best as she could when a noise drew her attention. It seemed to come from just outside her field of vision and sounded like shifting wreckage. Was someone coming? If so, friend or foe? Damn it, she couldn’t see a thing like this. Internally debating for a moment, she decided to risk opening the cockpit just the tiniest fraction, enough to look through the gap and see what was going on.

A moment later she wished she hadn’t, because just off to the side, buried under a ton of wreckage and less than ten meters away she could see another Cybertronian. Not a friend, most definitely a foe. Even though she’d only met him once before, she would never forget that face, or lack of one.

Shockwave, the Decepticon directly responsible for her being on Cybertron in the first place and also the one who had cost her three of her four limbs was practically in arm’s reach. And she without so much as a single working weapon. At least he seemed to be in stasis lock, she didn’t know what she would do if he were...

“I was looking forward to finally meeting you again,” Shockwave suddenly said, making her jump and bang her head on the cockpit canopy. “Not under these circumstances, though.”

Her heart was beating so fast it threatened to burst from her chest and she was hyperventilating. He was here, he was online, and... and he knew. Somehow he knew. No, that wasn’t possible. Maverick’s body looked nothing like Skywarp, how could he...?

Hoping that Maverick’s external speakers still worked, she calmed down as best as she could and decided to try and bluff her way out.

“What are you talking about, Decepticon?” she asked. “We have never met before.”

“You may pretend all you want, alien, but I have spent more time working on that body you wear than your type of creature even remains functional. No matter the changes made by the Autobots, I can recognize my own work. So do you intend to keep up pretences or would you like to talk?”

Marissa’s thoughts went a mile a minute. Talk? That ugly purple abomination wanted to talk? TALK? He had stranded her here, he had crippled her, and now... now he wanted to...

“TALK?” she screeched, losing her temper. “You did to this to me, you one-eyed freak! You brought me here! You shot me! No thanks to you I’m even alive and now you want to TALK? Are you completely insane?”

Shockwave seemed completely unfazed by her outburst.

“Considering that we are currently both immobile and can do nothing except wait for the electron storm to pass, talking would be a viable method of passing the time. Silence would be the other alternative.”

She almost laughed, but kept quiet. God, what she wouldn’t do for a working laser cannon right now. Or even a working metal fist she could slam into that sorry excuse for a face.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” she finally said.

“A self-evident lie, considering that you must know by now that I am the only one with the knowledge required to return you to your home world.”

This time Marissa did laugh. “Yeah, I know. And of course you would only be too happy to help me get back home.”

“I have little use for pretence, alien. Given the time you have spent with the Autobots you are, of course, aware that I am interested in your home world for the resources that I calculate we will find there, which would help us win this war. Which is also the reason why you, an outsider, are fighting alongside the Autobots, because you believe that you can only return home without putting your world in danger if the war is over and the Decepticons defeated.”

“You seem to have it all figured out. So am I wrong?”

“Within limited context, you are quite correct.”

Marissa sneered. “Well, if you are so eager to talk, why not broaden my limited context? For example, you are obviously one of the most powerful Decepticons around. You’re best buds with Razorclaw, who split from Megatron. And yet here you are, still working for him. Want to tell me why?”

Shockwave was silent for a moment, then said “Why not? The information is of no strategic value. If the Autobots have told you anything about me, then certainly that I do believe in logic above else. Logic dictates that the Cybertronians, being objectively superior to all known sentient races in the galaxy, are to bring order and structure to the universe. Megatron has the same vision, though he sees it in a more... philosophical and ideological context than I do. The end result is the same, though. Pax Cybertronia, peace established through superiority. A clockwork cosmos where everyone knows their place. Megatron has a far greater ability than I do to motivate and inspire, so it was logical to follow his lead to our common goal. Unfortunately that goal is currently not in reach. I spent many Vorns going over all available data, analyzing all variables to the best of my ability, and projecting scenarios regarding the future of Cybertron. And it led me to one inescapable conclusion:

“The Decepticons will lose this war. Not soon, not quickly, but eventually. Our leader refuses to see this, but the facts speak for themselves. The Deception army is composed primarily of military models, which was perfect for the kind of war Megatron originally envisioned: a quick, decisive campaign. He did not foresee the kind of resistance the Autobots would mount. Neither did I, to be honest. Despite heavy initial losses in territory and numbers, the Autobots did not surrender. Instead they were able to hold onto key positions and did not allow themselves to be divided and conquered.

“Despite our greater combat abilities, the kind of war this has become heavily favours the Autobots due to their greater industrial and logistical capabilities. With available resources stretched to the limits by ongoing hostilities, the Decepticons’ greater size, heavier weaponry and lack of logistical and industrial efficiency is working against us. It wouldn’t have mattered in a short war. What we now have, though, is a slow war of attrition, one the Autobots will eventually win unless one or more major factors change.

“Thus the reason for my experiments on extending the Space Bridge grid. With new sources of energy, ones not heavily fortified and defended by Autobot forces, the Decepticon armies could be empowered for a full-scale assault on key Autobot positions. It would take no more than three or four decisive victories to break the current stalemate and scatter our enemies. Then victory would belong to the Decepticons.

“It’s quite simple: while it is tactics and firepower that win battles, it is logistics and resources that win wars.”

Marissa had listened to Shockwave, but was unimpressed. “That doesn’t answer my question, Shockwave. If anything, it makes your continued loyalty to Megatron all the more... illogical, as you would put it. If you predict the Autobots to win this war, shouldn’t you switch sides? Join the winning team? Wouldn’t that be the logical course of action?”

“Even on the off chance that the Autobots would accept one such as I, our ultimate goals are incompatible. The Autobots do not believe in a universal order as I do. And while Megatron is no longer the logical choice to lead the Decepticons due to his refusal to face facts and adapt his overall strategy, he still has the loyalty of the greatest number of our soldiers, so going against him would be counterproductive and only hand victory to the Autobots that much sooner.”

“So now what? You just wait for opportunity to come knocking?”

“I am not familiar with the idiom, but I grasp its meaning. You are mistaken, though. As I have stated, I am actively looking for ways to return advantage to the Decepticons. And your presence here has validated my efforts. The Space Bridge improvement I have created works, it is now but a matter of fine tuning. And a destination has presented itself as well, as your limited yet effective repair of Skywarp’s functions proves that your species has evolved to a point that can only be reached by access to sufficient resources. Your home world is the logical choice. I only lack the coordinates.”

“Well, you’re out of luck then. This may surprise you, Decepticon, but I haven’t got the slightest idea where my home world is in relation to Cybertron. You might as well abandon your big plan.”

“It was highly improbable that your species was sufficiently advanced as to have charted space to the degree I would require. Still, that is but a minor obstacle. Once you are in my grasp, I only need to access your memories. It is highly probable that you have looked at your planet’s night sky at least several times during your limited life span, meaning images of star constellations can be recovered. It will no doubt require the vivisection of your brain and quite a bit of processing power, but I am confident I can calculate the coordinates.”

Marissa had to clench her fist to keep from shaking. This... this creature talked about cutting her head open as casually as others would talk about the weather, all the while plotting to use her home world as a stepping stone to universal domination. Images of Earth came to her mind unbidden, memories of the very night skies Shockwave was interested in, and her imagination superimposed pictures of Decepticon warships, raining fire and destruction down upon her people. And Shockwave would probably calculate the minimum amount of firepower necessary to wipe them out so that they would still turn a net profit from pillaging Earth’s resources.

Marissa had never in her entire life hated anyone or anything as much as she did right now.

“I will tear you apart myself before I ever allow you to touch my home world, you freak,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“That is highly improbable, alien. Besides, I believe the electron storm has passed.”

Marissa had half a second to look upwards and see clear skies through the hole in the ceiling before the entire mountain of rubble Shockwave was buried in began to shake. The Decepticon’s body was working again, she realized. He was online. And right beside her. Frantically she concentrated on the interface with Thrymir. Some systems were operational again, but the crash had done a lot of damage that her auto-repair systems weren’t even close to fixing. She had to do something, though.

“TRANSFORM!” she shouted, hoping the voice command still worked. Thrymir contorted, throwing off most of the rubble that had covered him moments before in the process, and came to stand on two robot legs, though one of them was wobbling quite a bit. Great, now if only she could…

She screamed as a giant purple fist exploded from the mountain of rubble and grabbed hold of Thrymir’s unstable leg. Shockwave’s giant body rose up like a titan emerging from the sea and pulled her up with him, causing Thrymir to topple over as he almost causally ripped the leg off her outer shell’s body. Panicking, Marissa brought one of Thrymir’s arm cannons to bear, not knowing if it was even working, but she would never find out. Shockwave’s cannon arm spat a bolt of purple fire and Thrymir’s left arm, shoulder and half his chest was blow to pieces, sending surges of feedback straight into Marissa’s nervous system.

Sheer terror paralyzed her, nothing was working anymore, warning lights flashed across her field of vision. Thrymir ended up on his back, a giant foot crashing hard right into his center torso and pinning him to the ground like a butterfly. She was helpless – again – and this monstrosity would... he would... no! Please, God no! No! NO! NO!

Two things happened at once. Several Decepticons came up behind Shockwave, ready to support him. At the same time, though, the opposite wall exploded inwards and none other than Grimlock – back in his Cybertronian tank mode – came barrelling in. Several other Autobots, including Bumblebee, were right behind him. Grimlock didn’t stop, crashing right into Shockwave’s towering form and sending him off Marissa. Grimlock transformed into robot mode, his huge blaster rifle at the ready. At the same time the Decepticons had their own weapons raised.

For several seconds they all faced each other over the wreck that was Thrymir’s body, weapons ready, but no one was firing.

“You are outnumbered and outgunned, Grimlock,” Shockwave stated. “The firepower of myself, Soundwave, Thundercracker, Thrust, and Brawl far outstrips what you and your three comrades can muster. You should retreat.”

Grimlock merely sneered. “Should know me better, Con!”

“What do you hope to gain, Dynobot?” Shockwave asked, his cannon arm trained on Grimlock. “Surely even you can’t think you can win here?”

Grimlock shrugged. “Maybe not. Have a promise to keep, though.”

He adjusted his aim, the muzzles of his double-barrelled cannon now pointed directly at the head of Thrymir.

“What are you doing?” Shockwave asked, seeming concerned for the first time.

“Meat puppet made me promise. Never let Cons take her alive. Blow her into sticky paste myself before that happens. Your move, Con!”

For a seeming eternity the two giant robots faced each other, Shockwave aiming at Grimlock, Grimlock aiming at Thrymir. Then, finally, Shockwave took a step back, shared a brief look with Soundwave, and then lowered his cannon arm.

“Well played, Dynobot. You know I need the alien alive. I know you don’t bluff. So the only logical course of action is to fight another day. Decepticons, fall back!”

None of the Autobots moved until the Decepticons had done just that. Only when the sound of jet engines began to fade into the distance did they lower their weapons. Bumblebee quickly dashed forward and examined the fallen form of their friend, even as Grimlock quickly ushered the Autobots not in the know about Marissa out of the building, yelling at them to go get Ratchet.

“Marissa?” Bumblebee asked, carefully removing the wreckage and checking the integrity of the Headmaster module. “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

“Meat puppet okay?” Grimlock asked, coming closer.

“She’s not answering. I have to open up the module.”

With nimble fingers the yellow Autobot unlocked the head module from Thrymir’s shoulders and carefully opened it up. Their alien friend lay inside, unresponsive. As gentle as he could, Bumblebee used one of his fingers to prod her.

“Marissa? Marissa!? Come on, wake up!”

Her eyes slowly blinked open, but the moment she saw him she screamed.

“Stay away! No, leave me alone! Stay away! STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY!”

Marissa was unaware of the arrival of Ratchet. She did not notice as they carefully moved Thrymir’s body and her into Ratchet’s ambulance mode and transported her back to Iacon. All she could see was that huge shape towering over her, cannon arm glowing, ready to cut open her head and rip out the way to her home world, which he would destroy. And she couldn’t do anything to stop him. Helpless. Just a tiny little crippled human.

“Stay away,” she muttered, again and gain. “Please, stay away!”


End Chapter 16

 

NOTE: This was a very tough chapter to write and it kinda ended a bit differently than I intended it, but somehow Optimus Prime started writing his own lines there at the end. I hope you like it.



Chapter 16: All Quiet on the Cybertronian Front

*****


Journal of Captain Marissa Fairborn, United States Air Force
Earth Date October 18, 2007 (approx.)

Final entry: It’s over. I’m never going home. I don’t know what possessed me to think that one little crippled human like myself could ever make a difference in a war that has lasted longer than my race even existed. I’ll live out my life here on this metal world and when I die, my home world will be safe. It’s the best I can hope for.


*****

Iacon, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date October 25, 2007 (approx.)


“No change?” Jazz asked.

Bumblebee shook his head, his optics glued to the monitor that showed the interior of Marissa’s quarters. Their human friend was sitting near the window, just gazing out at the cityscape of Iacon. She hadn’t moved from that position all day except to eat and clean up.

Jazz, who had finally been briefed about Marissa and Maverick being one and the same – not surprising considering that the secret was well and truly out of the bag ever since they had transported Maverick’s broken chassis back to Iacon – paced the length of the conference room.

“There has to be something we can do,” he muttered.

“We can probably be thankful that she kept it together as long as she did,” Ratchet said from his place at the conference table. “Considering all that she has gone through – being exiled to another world, dragged into a war between beings so much larger and more powerful than herself – she has held up remarkably. If the circumstances were reversed, I’m not sure any of us could have done half as well.”

“So you just want to let her give up?” Bumblebee asked incensed.

Ratchet made a soothing motion. “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying she will need some time to recover her equilibrium. She has been subjected to both physical and psychological trauma at the hands of one of the most powerful and ruthless Decepticons of them all, don’t forget that. Expecting her to bounce back from that within a matter of days is completely unrealistic.”

Bumblebee deflated. “I guess you’re right. It’s just... Marissa has been so... forceful and strong all this time... I guess I forgot how difficult all this must be for her.”

“I just wish we knew more about her race’s methods of psychological counselling,” Rewind added. “If she were an Autobot, I have no doubt Rung or one of his team could get her processor ticking again in no time flat. But given how little we still know about her species...”

“Bah, useless fancy talk,” Grimlock interrupted him. “Meat puppet strong, will bounce back from this. You’ll see!”

“I hope you are right, Grimlock,” Bumblebee said, turning his optics back to the screen showing Marissa. “I really do.”


*****

Iacon, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date November 8, 2007 (approx.)


“Went a little overboard, didn’t you?” Bumblebee asked.

“What makes you say that?” Wheeljack replied.

Bumblebee pointedly looked at the hulking figure in front of him. There was no more trace of the catastrophic damage the combination of the neutron storm, crash, and brief fight with Shockwave had done to Thrymir’s form. The former chassis of Skywarp gleamed like new and Bumblebee could easily make out the additional layers of armor, as well as the vastly increased arsenal.

“I’m not sure that thing can even move with all that added weight,” Bumblebee finally said.

“Look, which of us here is the engineer?” Wheeljack said, sounding a bit angry. “I know what I’m doing, okay? These upgrades will work just fine and the next time Marissa faces any Decepticon, even the one-eyed freak himself, she will demolish them. I guarantee you that.”

Taken aback by Wheeljack’s outburst, Bumblebee studied the frantic-looking engineer.

“Wheeljack... what happened to Marissa wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

For a moment Wheeljack seemed ready to protest, but then visibly deflated.

“I know that, little buddy. But I can’t help thinking that if I’d just tuned that system a bit more or added a few more armour plates here...”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Wheeljack,” Bumblebee interrupted him, putting a hand on his arm. “You know just as well as I do that war is unpredictable. You never know what might have made a difference or not. We can only prepare as best as we can and try to do better next time if it wasn’t enough.”

Wheeljack nodded. “Which is exactly why I’ll make sure that Maverick 2.0 here will be the best bot he can possibly be, little buddy. If... when Marissa gets back in the cockpit, she’ll be ready to take on all comers.”

Bumblebee nodded. It was all they could do for now. Still, he really could use some Decepticons to pound right now.


*****

Tagan Heights, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date November 23, 2007 (approx.)


Most Decepticons, at least those who had any amount of common sense, had always tried to avoid any sort of confrontation with Grimlock and his Dynobots, the Autobots’ heavy ground units. Grimlock had a kill count in the thousands, was known to collect pieces of the Cons he destroyed for display, and seemed determined to never give any of his enemies an easy death. Decepticons knew that, while facing the likes of Optimus Prime or Ultra Magnus in battle usually meant certain death, facing Grimlock usually meant certain, long, and agonizing death.

Recently, though, things had changed. Not for the better, as far as the Decepticon side of the argument went. If anything, Grimlock seemed grouchier, more aggressive, and more determined than ever to make it hurt. None among the rank and file knew why and most didn’t really care. Unfortunately for the Decepticons, the fact that his mere appearance on the perpetual battle field the Tagan Heights had turned into sufficed to send most of his enemies running for cover, did nothing to improve Grimlock’s mood. If anything, it made him even madder.

No one among the Decepticons knew the significance of the word “meat puppet”, which Grimlock occasionally muttered in the middle of combat. Most who heard it never got the chance to tell anyone about it, either.


*****

Iacon, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date December 21, 2007 (approx.)


“Rewind!”

The small Autobot froze, looking down the corridor to see the giant form of Optimus Prime coming toward him.

“Yes, Prime?”

“I was talking to Blaster and he has told me something about a certain recording you made. Something you intended to distribute to the troops.”

Rewind fidgeted nervously.

“Ah, yes... that. I... I know I should have talked to you first, but... the secret was out anyway... and there was all this talk I overheard and...”

A gesture from Optimus made him fall silent.

“I just wanted to tell you: good job!”

Rewind was not human, otherwise he would have blinked and gaped like a fish.

“What?”

“Blaster showed me. Good job. See to it that it’s broadcast to all the troops with the next round of regular updates. Oh, and add this little bit here before you do.”

With those words and after handing over a small datapad, Optimus walked off, leaving a thoroughly gobsmacked Rewind behind. Moments later the small Autobot shook himself and scrambled to carry out his orders.


*****

Tagan Heights, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date December 23, 2007 (approx.)


“Did you see this?”

Sideswipe looked up, seeing his team leader Hound studying a small datapad. Shaking his head, he took the pad and watched the brief transmission on it.

“Now isn’t that something,” he muttered as the recording ended.

“Yeah!”

A Decepticon shell impacted nearby, wrenching the Autobots away from their study. They quickly grabbed their arms and formed up to meet the new offensive. Sideswipe quickly found himself in the thick of things and brought his pathblaster to bear on a Decepticon who popped up right in front of him.

“One for the fleshling,” he grinned, pulling the trigger and blasting the Con to pieces.


*****

Iacon, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date December 31, 2007 (approx.)


“I’m not in the mood, Bumblebee,” Marissa said without turning around as she heard the doors to her quarters opening up. Lately her yellow friends had made almost daily visits to try and get her out of her funk.

“I am aware of that, Captain Fairborn,” a different voice answered her instead.

Marissa turned around to see Optimus Prime walking in. The Autobot leader was a busy bot, she had only met him maybe a dozen times since coming to Cybertron. He had visited her in the infirmary, though, and had made regular inquiries to her rate of recovery. This was their first meeting, though, since she had... since she had given up.

“I am hoping that you can give me a moment of your time, though,” Optimus said, crouching down beside her. He was still many times larger than her, but not towering above her quite as badly.

“Would it make a difference if I said no?” she asked bitterly. It’s not like there was anything she could do anyway. She was just a tiny little broken human. If not for the pity of the Autobots, she’d be long dead. Which might have been better for all involved.

“Normally, yes. Today, though, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Marissa just shrugged. “Feel free, then.”

“Do you remember our conversation during your first visit to Autobot headquarters? When you asked me to let you help us win this war?”

“Sure,” she scoffed. “Looking back, I’m surprised you indulged me.”

“To be fully honest, Captain, there might well have been an element of indulgence on my part. I did not see how you could help us. How any one being, be it Cybertronian, human, or anything else, could do anything to break the eternal stalemate our war has degenerated into.”

“Well, you were right then,” Marissa simply said.

“On the contrary, Captain. I was very wrong.”

She looked up at him, confused. Optimus handed her a datapad, so small that he could barely hold it between his massive fingers, which made it just small enough for Marissa to handle it without being squashed by it. Being familiar with Cybertronian tech by now, she saw a recording waiting to be played. Shrugging, she pressed the Cybertronian symbol for “Play”.

A series of images floated across the screen, accompanied by – of all things – the Top Gun Anthem. The images, partly computer generated, partially actual recordings, showed Marissa. There was a brief summary of her arrival, including her pushing Optimus out of harm’s way and being shot by Shockwave. There was her learning to walk with her new limbs, getting into the Headmaster suit for the first time, linking up with Thrymir again. And then there were battle field recordings. Maverick on Animatros, shooting down Decepticon flyers. Maverick on Gigantion, in a dogfight above the towering forms of Devastator and Omega Supreme. And finally the push into the Tagan Heights, right up to her confrontation with Shockwave. It showed the broken carcass of Maverick being brought back to Iacon.

“Why are you showing me this?” Marissa asked. “I was there for all of that, remember?”

“The recording wasn’t made for you, Captain. There is more, though.”

The images had faded to black, the Top Gun Anthem ended, to be replaced by a short question written in Cybertronix. It read “why does an alien fight in our war?” The letters faded, to be replaced by a recording Marissa realized must have come directly from Optimus Prime.

“Optimus,” she heard herself saying in the recording, “we have an old saying back home. It goes something like this: ‘Grant me the courage to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to tell the difference.’ I do know this: I want to go back home. I want to see the Earth again before I die and I know that it can only happen if and when your war is over. Now wisdom tells me that one little human like myself won’t be able to help change the course of this war, but seeing as I lack the serenity to just sit here and wait until I die of old age, the only thing left to me is...”

“The path of courage?” Optimus voice, sounding once again slightly amused.

“As pompous as it may sound, yes,” the image from her past continued. “Optimus, if there is even the slightest hope that something I might do or say could help end this war of yours within my lifetime...”

The recording faded to black, once again to be replaced by letters. A single word, written in Cybertronix.

“What do you mean this isn’t for me,” Marissa asked, getting slightly angry. “Who is it for then?”

“This recording went out as part of the regular update sent to all Autobot troops on Cybertron and the other planets in the Space Bridge Grid. Everyone who is part of our armed forces saw it these last few Earth days.”

Marissa was dumbfounded. “You... you’re using me... for what? Is this the Autobot equivalent of the funny pages?”

Optimus shook his head.

“Captain Fairborn, I am not sure you realize this, but you have contributed something incredibly valuable to our war effort. Something that we had been missing for so long, no one – including myself – had even noticed it wasn’t there anymore. At some point we all had... resigned, I think, that this was the way it always would be. Autobots against Decepticons, locked in combat forever. No gain for either side. No changes. Just endless warfare and death.”

He looked at her. “Ever since you came here, though, things have changed. Little things, so little I didn’t notice them at first, either.”

“Things?” she asked, getting more and more confused.

“Little things, yes. Things like Wheeljack being his most productive in many, many Vorns. Blaster being more motivated than ever. Jazz coming up with many new ideas on how to sow trouble among the Decepticons. Grimlock being more of a team player than he’s ever been.

“When we had our talk back then, Captain Fairborn, I was wrong. Wrong in thinking that you were the one who needed that tiny little ember of hope that taking the path of courage would give you. In fact, it was we who needed it. We who had lost it so long ago. Until you came.”

Marissa just stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

“Blaster tells me troop morale is the highest it’s been since he took over as our com officer,” Optimus said, rising. “Since that recording went out, we have made small but noticeable gains along most of our active frontiers. Training scores are improving across the board. Again, slightly, but noticeably. And Rewind has recordings of at least six different altercations where Autobots rallied for battle to words like ‘Path of Courage!’ or ‘For Hope!’.

“So don’t think for a moment that you have not made a difference here on Cybertron, Captain Fairborn. You have given us hope for the first time in many, many Vorns. And that is the most precious gift anyone can give to another sentient.”

Turning to leave, he looked back over his shoulder. “Of course I have little doubt that morale would improve even more, Captain, if Maverick were to be seen on the battlefield again.”

The doors slid shut, the Autobot leader’s massive foot falls vanished into the distance. Marissa still stared at the datapad in her hand, which still showed that final word on its screen.

HOPE.


End Chapter 16

 

Chapter 17: Back in the Saddle Again

*****

Iacon, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date January 6, 2008 (approx.)


Captain Marissa Fairborn of the United States Air Force checked her appearance in the mirror for what had to be the tenth time or so. Over two years stranded on an alien world and she didn’t remember being this nervous before. Oh, sure, she’d been scared stiff, lost, confused, devastated, and without hope, but nervous?

Her second encounter with Shockwave had left a permanent mark on her once again. Not as serious as the first time, of course, seeing as she lost no further limbs, but a prominent streak of grey stood out among her chestnut coloured hair. Well, the nearest supplier of hair dye was however many light years away, so there was nothing to be done about it now. The rest of her appearance was spotless, her cybernetic limbs gleamed like new.

Deciding to get things over with, she walked over to her Headmaster Unit and suited up. She left the helmet and visor up, though. Since the hiding part of her stay on Cybertron was most definitely over with, she might as well enjoy the fresh air while she could. Fresh air in the sense that she only had to take the occasional breath from her breather unit, of course, seeing as Cybertron’s atmosphere still wasn’t quite up to human standards. She was playing for time, she realized. Time to get moving.

Walking out of her rooms, she headed toward the nearby staging area where Maverick’s Maniacs were stationed whenever they were in Iacon. Every step toward those big hangar doors made the butterflies in her stomach more frantic, but she ignored them as best as she could. Nothing to it, she kept telling herself. You’ve done this dozens of times already. Only difference is that they all know now. They all know that you’re actually an alien life form that’s using one of their dead bodies for a joy ride. What could possibly go wrong?

Much too soon she arrived at the hangar doors and they opened up. Behind it stood over a dozen Autobot flyers and all of them were looking at her. She forced herself to keep walking towards them, even though her heart was beating so fast she feared it might burst from her chest.

Swoop, her second-in-command, took a step toward her and crouched down, putting himself almost at eye level with her.

“So our big, bad, fearless leader is actually a tiny little fleshling from an alien world, eh? Who’d have thought?”

Gulping down her nervousness, she met his optics straight on.

“You got a problem with that, Autobot?” she asked, her voice almost steady.

“So what if I have?” he asked.

“Then get over it! We’ve got a war to win.”

Swoop kept it up a moment longer, then laughed. “Good answer, squishy. And here we feared you’d lost your marbles for good after your encounter with ol’ one-eye.”

He rose, looking at the other Autobots. “Maniacs! Attention!”

All the Autobots stood at attention, forming a corridor between her and the headless form of Thrymir. Marissa had almost laughed the first time she had seen the truly massive amount of additional hardware Wheeljack had strapped onto it. A short test flight had sufficed to convince him to take some of it off again, as Marissa had barely gotten off the ground in jet mode. While slightly more heavily armed and armoured than before, Thrymir was now flight-worthy again.

Coming to a stop before it, she sealed up her suit and shouted “HEAD ON!”. A moment later she was seeing the world from atop a giant’s shoulders once again. Which also let her realize that her squadron had apparently gained two new members in her absence. Two very small new members.

“Swoop, I see we have newcomers?” she asked, walking towards them.

The two new Autobots were barely any bigger than her Headmaster Unit and she couldn’t see any visible signs of a jet alternate mode, either.

“Yeah, Wheeljack and Brainstorm have apparently gotten into some kind of upgrade competition lately.”

Brainstorm? Yes, she remembered that name. Apparently he was Wheeljack’s main rival for the title of mad scientist among the Autobots and regularly designed stuff that was immediately scrapped again for being far, far too dangerous to use. But what did that have to do with...?

“Highbrow and Steelwing, time to get in gear!” Swoop commanded.

The two tiny Autobots nodded and then jumped into the air, transforming into... heads? Only now did Marissa notice the two headless bodies standing at the side of the hangar, bodies that quite clearly showed flight mode elements. The two newly-transformed heads attached to the bodies and they came to attention.

Marissa was dumbfounded for a moment, but then remembered Rewind’s throw-away comment from when Wheeljack had first presented her with her Headmaster Unit. About how bigger Cybertronians could downsize for energy preservation and only link up with larger bodies for combat purposes.

“So... Wheeljack or Brainstorm?” she asked Swoop.

“Both, kind of. Wheeljack came up with the initial design, but had put it aside for the moment to work on upgrading your stuff. Apparently Brainstorm couldn’t resist and created the first two transectors – as he calls them – for combat use. Highbrow and Steelwing volunteered to be downsized and retrofitted. All while Wheeljack and Brainstorm had a truly epic shouting match, I believe.”

Marissa could only imagine. She hadn’t met Brainstorm yet, but she knew how Wheeljack could get about his inventions.

“I assume you two have already given your new shells a spin and tested everything?” she asked.

“Sure thing, Maverick,” Steelwing said. “Everything’s working just fine. Ready to blast some Seekers out of the sky.”

“Same here,” Highbrow just said. He seemed less enthusiastic than Steelwing, but Marissa was certain that Swoop would have put them both through their paces.

“Optimus figured that no one would be better suited for the first field tests of the new ‘Autobot Headmasters’ then the squadron that’s already got one of those,” Swoop said, smirking.

“Are the interfaces generalized or is each shell calibrated for just one specific Headmaster?” she asked, imagining battlefield scenarios where ‘head swapping’ might be a feasible tactic to take the enemy by surprise.

“So far each transector has to be fine-tuned individually,” Highbrow said. “Brainstorm said something about improving the next batch to the point where they’d offer a universal head interface, but at that point Wheeljack was already trying to punch him out, so I’m not certain how soon that will come about.”

“I’m kinda sorry I wasn’t there for all that,” Marissa mused.

Turning to look at her squadron, she took a deep breath. There was something she had to get off her chest before they went into combat again.

“I’m not sure how much all of you have been told about my specific situation, so I’ll try and be frank with you. Shockwave is after me. He believes he can extract information from my brain that will lead him to my home world, which he believes has all the resources the Decepticons will need to win this war. So my point is, whenever our squadron appears on the battle field, odds are that a lot of Decepticons are going to come gunning for me, meaning they’ll come gunning for everyone on this squadron as well.

“While all of you know the risks of combat, none of you signed up for having a huge bulls eye painted on your hulls. So if anyone wants to transfer to a different squadron, I will understand.”

There was silence for a moment, before Steelwing took a step forward.

“Maverick... Captain Fairborn. Thank you for your words, but even the youngest among us here has fought in this war far, far longer than you have even been alive. We know the risks and the Decepticons will come gunning for us no matter what, simply because of this.” She pointed at the Autobot symbol on her chassis. “And whatever additional danger your presence might put us in, well, we figure it’s more than worth it, considering how much things have already improved thanks to you.”

“We’re all hoping that this war will end, the sooner the better,” Highbrow chipped in. “For the first time in a long time we actually believe it might be possible. And if we can do it in time to make sure you see your home world again... that’s just one more reason to get it done.”

“The rookies are right, boss,” Swoop added, still smirking. “Besides, quite a few bots here have already placed wagers that we’re going to beat out the Wreckers this Vorn for number of scrapped Cons. We figure that having the squishy on our team can only help with that.”

Marissa simply nodded, not quite trusting her ability to form words right now.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

Turning toward the hangar exit, she brought up all of Thrymir’s system to full capacity and began to head out.

“Maniacs, form up!” she ordered.

*****

Tagan Heights, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date January 6, 2008 (approx.)


“Air support coming in,” Hound yelled, keeping his head down amidst heavy Decepticon shelling.

“About time,” Sideswipe spat, squeezing off shots between explosions.

“We’ll take out the artillery position in 0.7 cycles. Prepare to move forward the moment the shelling stops!”

Sideswipe looked at Hound. “Was that...?” he began.

“Sure thing,” Hound replied, grinning. “It seems Maverick’s Maniacs are back in action.”

Some distance in front of them several big explosions bloomed. A moment later the shelling stopped.

“Move out, Autobots,” Hound yelled, breaking cover. Whooping enthusiastically, his unit followed.


End Chapter 17

 

Chapter 18: The Endgame Begins

*****

Journal of Captain Marissa Fairborn, United States Air Force
Earth Date November 28, 2012 (approx.)


History always remembers that one big battle that ends a war, or at least turns the tides so decisively that the outcome is never again in doubt from that moment forward. In truth, though, it’s never that one big battle. It’s the dozens or hundreds of smaller battles that come before it that set the circumstances that allow one side to go for that one big push or force them to risk that all-or-nothing gamble.

It’s been over seven years now, as best as I can tell. Seven years of fighting a war on an alien world for the one in a million chance to maybe one day go home again. Hundreds of battles, some bigger, some smaller. And in a strange sort of way I have Shockwave to thank for my newfound patience. As traumatic as my second encounter with him has been for me, I never forgot what he told me. The Decepticons will lose this war, he said, not because the Autobots are the better fighters or have the bigger guns, but because they have better logistics and industrial efficiency. So in a way Optimus Prime’s strategy has always been the correct one. No undue risks, no one big push, no suicidal assault. Play it safe, let the Decepticons run themselves ragged, win through attrition.

Which is just what we’ve been doing these past five years, though at a more accelerated pace than the one the Autobots originally operated on. After all, I don’t have the kind of time that immortal machine beings do. And as amazing as it sounds, the fact that the little fleshling in their midst has – by Cybertronian definition – so little time and yet hopes against hope to achieve so much, seems to have inspired the Autobots. Sometimes I feel more like a mascot than an actual participant in this war. But if it works, I don’t care. So we fight and we win. One small battle at a time. A little bit here, a little bit there, and it begins to add up.

And now it seems we’re finally at the point where even the most stubborn and ideologically-blind Decepticons begin to realize that – unless something truly drastic happens and soon – they will lose this war. The coup attempts against Megatron have multiplied and he has to grow desperate by now. Small win by small win we have manoeuvred him into a place where he is now the one who has to take that big all-or-nothing gamble. Megatron needs a big victory in a big battle – both for strategic and morale reasons - otherwise he will not be Decepticon leader much longer.

Jazz has gathered the Intel, Prowl has analyzed the data, and with a little false information here and some highly visible troop movements there we will give Megatron exactly the kind of opportunity he needs. Or so he’ll think. All we need now is a little luck and, of course, bait.

*****

Optimus Prime shook his head. He had listened as Prowl, Jazz, and Marissa laid out the plan, but the moment they got to her part in it, he intervened.

“Captain Fairborn, while I admire your initiative and courage, I would never...”

Marissa interrupted him. “That’s just the point, Prime! You! Would! Never! And Megatron knows that.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the assembled Autobot officers around her, all of them dwarfing her with their presence despite her standing on top of the briefing room table in her Headmaster suit, and continued to speak.

“You’ve all fought in this war longer than my race has even existed. But we humans have a little bit of experience with warfare ourselves and more importantly, with a lot of different kinds of war against a lot of differently operating enemies. You have fought against the same enemy all this time. You know their tactics and strategies inside out and the reverse is just as true. You’ve fought against the same people on the same battlefields for eons and there is nothing either of you can do to surprise the other side anymore.

“Optimus, Megatron knows you. Probably as well as he knows himself. He knows that you would never, ever, under any circumstances expose someone under your protection in this way, especially as the entire war is very much going your way. The very thought that you might take that kind of risk just to lure him into a trap is so far out there, it will never even occur to him. Which is why it can work! He will never see it coming.”

There was silence around her for a moment until a huge grey fist came down on the table beside her, hitting it with just enough restraint not to take her off her feet.

“Meat puppet’s right, Prime,” Grimlock growled. “Megs knows all your tricks. Won’t expect this kind of trap! Especially not at this point.”

“We have calculated the odds over and over, Prime,” Prowl added in a much calmer manner, “You yourself said that an outsider’s perspective might help us come up with new ideas and if it works, we might actually make great strides towards ending this conflict.”

“From Megs’ point of view this is the golden opportunity,” Jazz put in his bit. “Not only will he be able to strike a decisive blow against us, he will also be able to capture that annoying little flesh creature that has eluded big bad Shockwave for nearly a Vorn now. Big morale blow against the Autobots, trumping a potential rival for Decepticon leadership, plus possible location of an energy-rich planet ripe for plunder. He’ll go for it.”

“And the risk to our side is acceptable, too,” Prowl took up the ball once more. “If Megatron doesn’t take the bait, we lose nothing. And if he suspects a trap, well, we will monitor all possible routes to the engagement zone and will be able to call for a general disengagement if things look suspicious. While a certain element of risk no doubt remains, of course, I believe the possible gains more than make up for it.”

Prime carefully considered the words of all his trusted advisors, then turned to look at Ultra Magnus, his second-in-command.

“Magnus? Your thoughts?”

“We decide where, when, how, and if,” Magnus simply replied. “Like Prowl said, the possible gains far outweigh the risks. If Captain Fairborn is willing to play bait, then I say we go for it.”

Prime looked at her again. “You are aware of the risks, Captain,” he stated.

“Of course I am, Prime. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit scared. Still, this could be one giant step on my voyage home. As much as things have been going our way lately, the odds of me living long enough to see the end of this war are still slim. Anything I can do to speed it up, I’m willing to give it a try.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Prime finally nodded. She could see how it went against the grain for him, but she figured the odds of bringing that so very elusive and distant goal of putting and end to the war one giant step closer had to appeal to him as well.

“Very well, I am authorizing this mission. Grimlock, Magnus? How long will your troops need to move into position?”

“We’ll want to move them in small groups, so I’d give it six solar cycles.”

“I’ll need about as long to set up the data trail,” Jazz chipped in. “I’ll also need Blaster to make sure it all looks authentic.”

Optimus nodded. “I assume Wheeljack has created the necessary blueprints and outlines?”

“Sure thing,” Marissa said. “And he had lots of fun doing it, I believe. Any Decepticon who picks it up will be certain that the ‘Targetmaster Process’ is the next big thing, despite it being completely and utterly bogus.”

“Very well, I want regular updates on all preparatory work every six mega-cycles! Jazz, no data gets sent out without my final approval! Prowl, double-check everything! Then triple-check it! Magnus, make sure all participating troops get a full Energon and ammunitions load! If we’re doing this, I want it done right.”

“Finally,” Grimlock mumbled, clearly looking forward to the big battle.

“Your squadron knows the risks, too?” Optimus asked Marissa.

“Yes, Prime. They all volunteered regardless.”

After several years of being under the command of the ‘Squishy’ – as had become her popular nickname among squad members thanks to Swoop – as well as being the front runner for the field testing of each new generation of Headmaster technology, Maverick’s Maniacs had a reputation of insanity that rivalled that of the Wreckers. Thankfully she had nowhere near the casualty numbers of the Autobots’ elite Special Forces unit.

“Very well, then you all know your tasks. Primus be with us!”

Marissa nodded and jumped off the table. The preparation work would largely be done by others. Come to think of it, the actual fighting would also largely be done by others. Her job – and by extension that of her squadron – would mostly be bait. She smiled. If this was some kind of science fiction movie, she no doubt would be at the very front line of every battle, would have faced Megatron at least twice already, and would kick his skidplate but good in the big battle to come. Reality, of course, was far different. She had a small but important part to play and if it worked, and everyone else did their part, too, then...

She swallowed hard, tears coming to her eyes. If it worked, then… maybe… just maybe…

No, she resolved, clenching her fists. Not yet! It was still too soon to get her hopes up. She’d made that mistake once after the victory on Animatros and the plummet had been bad. She wouldn’t put herself through that again. In six (Cybertronian) days they would go into battle. They would win.

And then... then she’d see where they stood.

Still... she couldn’t quite stop herself from raising her head and looking in the general direction where Perceptor had calculated her home world probably was. No way to tell if any of the many, many stars she could see was her sun. Heck, even if they did beat the Cons completely and totally, they would still need to figure out how Shockwave’s space bridge worked and where to point it. The odds were still very, very long.

Still... she looked at the sky where she believed her home was and couldn’t help but imagine.

“I’m going home,” she whispered, her voice full of resolve.


End chapter 18

 

Chapter 19: Spring the Trap

*****

Nova Cronum, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date December 6, 2012 (approx.)


“Okay, team,” Marissa said over the com. “Let’s do this quickly, I don’t like being exposed out here any longer than necessary!”

Nova Cronum had at one time been one of the most thriving districts of Cybertron. A home to merchants and craftsmen as well as artists, it had been second only to Iacon in terms of its culture and beauty. Four million years of war had razed it to the ground, though, and there was almost nothing left of its past splendour. As it had never possessed much in the way of industrial infrastructure or anything else that was of strategic value to the ongoing war effort of either side, it had largely been abandoned. What population remained were scattered pockets of the so-called “Empties”, faction-less Cybertronians who preferred starving in these energy-deprived ruins to fighting in an endless war.

Maverick’s Maniacs came in low from the direction of Iacon and briefly circled a nondescript ruin that had once been part of the city of Vos before touching down and converting back to robot mode. Vos was a burnt-out wasteland even by the standards of Nova Cronum. Photon missiles had annihilated practically all life here in one of the very first battles of the civil war. The odds of meeting anything living in these ruins were practically nonexistent.

“Standard perimeter”, Marissa ordered regardless. “We’ll be leaving in twenty-five cycles. Make sure everything is secured!”

Orders given, she led about a third of her squad into the ruin and disappeared from view for a good twenty Earth minutes. The Aerialbots left outside continuously scanned the surrounding landscape, weapons at the ready. Nothing moved in the ruins of Vos, though. An eerie silence seemed to blanket all of Nova Cronum.

“I don’t like this,” Highbrow muttered, his gun sweeping back and forth.

“Just another few cycles, then we’re out of here,” Steelwing told him.

Right on schedule Marissa’s team re-emerged from the ruins, carrying several large containers.

“Everything is in order. Call in the transport shuttle and then we’re out of here!” Marissa ordered.

Swoop activated his com, then frowned. “Transmission isn’t getting through. We’re being jammed.”

“Damn! Okay, form up! Steelwing, Highbrow, Wingsaber, you three take the crates. The rest of us will provide cover. Move it!”

Before anyone could move more than a few steps, though, the silence over Nova Cronum was suddenly shattered by the high-pitched whine of approaching missiles. Swarms of projectiles appeared from behind several ruins and headed straight for the Maniacs.

“Take cover!” Marissa yelled.

The missiles impacted a short distance in front and to the side of them, clearly meant to box them in. The ruins around them came to life, as armoured shapes appeared from carefully concealed fox holes and began to surround them. There were the winged shapes of Seekers, broadly-built monstrosities that comprised Megatron’s tank squadrons, and Marissa could not suppress a shiver of dread as she saw five robots combine into one of those staggeringly-powerful gestalt monsters.

“Defensive formation!” she ordered, her troops inching closer together to watch each other’s backs. Taking to the air was clearly not an option, as they’d be shredded by hundreds of laser blasts before they got more than a few meters off the ground. They were well and truly surrounded, it seemed.

“Don’t you just wish we really had some super weapons right now?” Swoop snarked over the encrypted channel.

“Shut up,” Marissa hissed. Encrypted or not, she did not intend to give the game away.

More weapons fire thundered over their heads as her squadron desperately returned fire. They were outnumbered at least ten to one, she estimated, and surrounded to boot. By any measurable standard this was a hopeless situation.

Suddenly the fire ceased.

“Surrender, Autobots,” a voice thundered over the battlefield. “Surrender now and you may be granted some mercy.”

Carefully spying over the smoldering piece of rubble that was her cover, Marissa saw a truly imposing sight. A huge Cybertronian, coloured mostly gunmetal grey and black and carrying a huge cannon on his right arm, was walking out from the lines of the assembled Decepticons. His optics gleamed a bloody red and he exuded arrogance with every step he took.

“The big M himself,” Steelwing muttered beside her.

“Only took me seven years on this planet to finally meet the main bad guy,” Marissa replied flippantly. “Hollywood would probably have shortened that to a few weeks at best.”

Megatron, leader of the Decepticons and instigator of the civil war that had consumed this world for four million Earth years was standing only a short distance away from her. Interestingly enough he had never really factored into Marissa’s thinking much. She’d known off him, of course, but to her the face of the enemy had always been Shockwave. Megatron had been a far more distant menace, someone she knew from Jazz’ reports and numerous stories told by her squadron mates. Seeing him now... well, she was a bit disappointed. From everything she’d learned, she’d expected him to be... bigger.

“I’m sure you know what I want,” Megatron continued, arrogantly standing before them without cover. “Give me the Targetmaster technology and the alien, then the rest of you can leave in one piece. Otherwise you’ll all leave in peaces.”

A triple-encrypted com channel briefly opened, transmitting two short beeps, then shut down again. Marissa nodded, though no one was around to see it. Then she activated her external speakers. Time to give the bad guy a bit of sass.

“Took your sweet time,” she called out, only marginally rising from her cover. “I’ve been here almost a Vorn and it took you this long to put together a welcome for the first alien visitor Cybertron had in eons? The Autobots got it together much more quickly.”

“Some things are worth waiting for,” he replied, still sounding every bit as arrogant as before. “What will it be, alien? Are you willing to come along for the good of your comrades or will you let them all perish in a futile attempt to protect you?”

“Am I willing to come along to have my head cut open so you can then invade my home world and annihilate my people? Hmm, let me think about that for a minute!”

Megatron shook his head. “It appears the Autobots’s misguided sense of nobility has infected you, alien. Such heroic nonsense. But it makes no difference. There is no way out for you. I will have the Autobots’ newest weapons and I will have the location of your world. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”

The com channel opened once more, a single beep was transmitted. Marissa grinned.

“Me? Stop you? I wouldn’t dream of it, Megatron. I’m just a tiny little flesh creature, no way could I take on the great and powerful Megatron, right? Don’t worry, I don’t intend to.”

Suddenly the ground around them began to rumble and shake, the ruins of Vos tumbled like so many dominoes. With a mighty roar the gargantuan form of Omega Supreme broke free of the ground less then 500 meters behind the Decepticons’ line. Underground tunnels opened up and disgorged Autobot troops by the scores. Grimlock led his Dynobots out of the rubble, every single one of them ready and eager to fight. The other flank of the Decepticons saw itself facing Ultra Magnus and the Wreckers, as well as yet more Autobot troops.

Finally the ruin from which Marissa and her team had just emerged opened up to unveil yet more Autobot troops, led by none other than Optimus Prime himself. The look of utter surprise on Megatron’s face was truly priceless.

“I’ll leave that to the big guy,” Marissa said. Okay, that was very Hollywood, she admitted, but it just had to be said.

“You are the ones who are surrounded, Megatron,” Optimus Prime said, his rifle raised and ready for action. “So to use your own words from two cycles ago: surrender now, and we will grant you mercy.”

Confusion and surprise quickly gave way to anger and outright hatred on Megatron’s face.

“You seek to trap me, Prime? How dare you! I AM MEGATRON! DECEPTICONS, ATTACK!

And then all hell broke loose.


End chapter 19

 

Chapter 20: The Turning Point

*****

Nova Cronum, Planet Cybertron
Earth Date December 6, 2012 (approx.)


Okay, Marissa resolved. She had done her part. She and her squadron had played bait, had lured the Decepticons – including big bad Megatron himself – into an ambush, and the trap had been sprung. Now it was in the hands of the big guys like Optimus, Magnus, and Grimlock. Which left her with just one more minor little thing to accomplish today:

Survive in the middle of what was undoubtedly the most explosive and intense battle she had ever seen.

For a brief moment she was blinded as pretty much everyone seemed to open fire at once. The ground shook from the impacts of shells and missiles, laser blasts filled the air with lethal fire, and the agonizing screech of tearing metal almost made her ears bleed.

Shaking her head to stop the ringing, she opened the com channel for her squadron. “Okay, Maniacs! Like we planned. The moment you see an opening, take off and provide high cover! Our job is to make sure that as many Decepticons as possible stay on the ground and boxed in.”

Acknowledgements trickled in as the battle roared on. The intense fire above finally ceased for a moment. Marissa gunned Thrymir’s thrusters and shot into the sky, transforming into jet mode in the process. Swoop, Steelwing, and Blazemaster were on her wing a moment later, the remaining Maniacs forming up into double wings as well.

“Even-numbered wings, clockwise perimeter! Odd-numbered wings, counter-clockwise perimeter! Let no one escape!”

The sky itself seemed to shake as Marissa briefly glimpsed Omega Supreme using his giant claw arm to slam a Decepticon combiner robot into the ground with enough force to put earthquakes to shame. The ground was barely visible due to smoke and fire, but she could easily discern where Grimlock and his Dynobots were active. A small group of Seekers managed to get airborne and Marissa quickly directed her wing. Opening fire, two of the Seekers were torn to shreds before they managed to gain much altitude. A missile fired from somewhere on the ground took out a third one. The remaining two closed in and the dogfight was on.

Marissa quickly lost all sense of time. The world was reduced to scanner readouts, IFF codes, and explosions. And to think, she mused for a second, that she was high above the main action. How it was down there in the maelstrom, she couldn’t even imagine. Then her mind was once again fully focused on the battle at hand.

Dodge! Stay on his tail! Strafe that Decepticon on the ground! Evade a missile! Blow a Seeker to kingdom come! Blazemaster falling from the sky, trailing smoke! Taste blood in her mouth as bit down on her lip during a particular close miss! Explosions in front of her, dive right in! Decepticons attempt a break-out, clear a path for the Wreckers to stop them!

Slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, the battle began to ebb. The number of explosions on the ground grew less. Widening the scope of her scanner, she saw that the number of Decepticon IFF codes had shrunk by a considerable margin. Almost absentmindedly she stayed on Swoop’s wing as her second blew another Seeker out of the sky.

A large group of Decepticons was boxed in by Magnus and the Wreckers near the southern edge of the battle zone and she watched as they seemed to realize that the battle was lost. Their leader, IFF-tagged as Needlenose, threw down his gun and raised his arms in surrender. The troops around him quickly followed suite and she banked off as Ultra Magnus ordered his men to restrain them.

The battle was clearly winding down. The skies were clear, no more Decepticons tried to take off. A sharp feeling of sorrow went through Marissa as she noted that her squadron was missing four members. Blazemaster, Dogfight, Barrel Roll, and Sky High were gone. Clenching her fist, she resolved to grieve later. No time now. This wasn’t over yet.

Near the site of the original ambush fighting was still going on. Megatron was in the thick of it, surrounded by a shrinking cadre of Decepticons, while a growing number of Autobot troops boxed him in ever tighter. Marissa ordered two-thirds of her remaining squadron to maintain the aerial perimeter and make sure that the skies remained clear, then took the rest of her bots down. However small her part, she wanted to be there for the main event.

She touched down amidst the carnage of a battle field. All around her lifeless shells littered the ground. Many of them wore Decepticon badges, but not nearly all of them. She didn’t want to think about the number of casualties that had occurred because of... well, it was not quite her plan, at least not exclusively, but this entire battle had come about because of her presence on Cybertron. Rationally she knew that many, many more Cybertronians had died in the millions of years before she’d even been born, but still...

Someone screamed in terrible rage and she looked up to see that several of the Decepticons still with Megatron had apparently decided that their own survival was more important than pleasing the boss and raised their hands in surrender. Megatron was not pleased, it seemed, and quickly decapitated one of them with some kind of energy blade he had. Ironically, that seemed to be the final drop, as the other troops around him broke rank and ran from him.

Megatron stood alone, surrounded by Autobots.

“One hundred Shanix that he won’t surrender,” some Autobot to her left whispered.

“No takers,” another whispered back.

Megatron’s head darted around, though whether it was to look for an escape or his next victim, Marissa wasn’t sure. When several Autobots stepped aside, though, to make room for Optimus Prime, his gaze irrevocably settled on the Autobot leader.

“You think you have won, don’t you, Prime?” he spat.

Optimus just looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “I never wanted it to come to this, Megatron. But it’s over now! Put down your weapon!”

This only seemed to enrage Megatron. “Put down my weapon? Surrender? To you? I don’t think so! You have won nothing, Optimus Prime! I still stand! I am Megatron!”

He crouched into a combat stance and raised his energy blade, pointing it at Optimus.

“Face me if you dare, Optimus Prime,” Megatron challenged, glaring at his opposite number. “It’s time you and I finally settled things as warriors should.”

Optimus shook his head, disappointed. “This is not a game, Megatron. You are no longer a gladiator in the arenas of Kaon, and this is not the finale of some tournament for some shiny trophy. You have plunged our world into a war that has lasted 50,000 Vorns. You have spilled the Energon of countless sentients. This battle is over, Megatron. Surrender! I will not ask you again.”

Megatron merely screamed incoherently and rushed towards Optimus. He didn’t get far, though. Dozens of blaster bolts from the Autobots surrounding him impacted his powerful frame, each one taking a chunk out of his armour. He made it another few steps, but finally collapsed. Optimus walked towards him, rifle at the ready.

“Finish it then, coward,” Megatron growled, trying in vain to raise the barrel of his fusion cannon.

Optimus regarded his downed opponent with pity. “You never did understand how civilized beings deal with each other, Megatron. As I said, this battle is over.”

For a second Marissa thought he was actually going to just blow Megatron’s head off, but Optimus instead reached down and ripped the fusion cannon off Megatron’s arm, throwing it aside with contempt. Carefully holstering his own rifle, he took the gizmo handed to him by Jazz and locked it to Megatron’s back. An inhibitor claw, Marissa knew from the briefing. It locked down all but the basic functions of a Cybertronian’s body.

“Megatron of Tarn,” Optimus said, rising to his feet again. “You are under arrest for treason against Cybertron, instigation of civil war, and far too many war crimes to list them all. Your trial will commence as soon as civil order is restored on Cybertron. Until then, you will remain in Autobot custody. Ironhide, Trailbreaker, take him away!”

Marissa looked on as the two Autobots dragged the disabled Decepticon leader away, who seemed to be completely flabbergasted at being treated this way. Had he really expected Optimus to face him in some kind of winner-takes-all one-on-one fight after having already won the larger battle? Marissa could only assume that he had never really gotten out of that gladiatorial mindset and had considered this entire civil war little more than a personal path to glory.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” Bumblee said, having walked up next to her. The little yellow bot had several scorch marks adorning his body, but seemed largely undamaged.

“It’s not over yet, little buddy,” Jazz told him, standing on Marissa’s other side. “There are still a lot of Decepticons out there. But with Megatron defeated... it’s not the end, but it might well be the beginning of the end.”

Marissa nodded. Beginning of the end sounded fine to her. And maybe… just maybe… it was also the beginning of her journey home. The only thing that worried her, though, was that Shockwave hadn’t been part of this battle. He was still out there somewhere and probably already in the process of putting himself into Megatron’s place. She could only hope that his self-professed lack of charisma would slow him down.

Optimus walked over to stand in front of his assembled troops. Marissa also noticed Rewind, who had been filming everything as it happened and sent it to Blaster. The images of Megatron’s defeat were all over Cybertron by now, she bet.

“Autobots,” Optimus Prime began, “this is a great victory we have won today and I am proud of every single one of you. But do not let your guard down. It was a battle, not the war. We have made great strides forward, but we must not grow careless now. For the first time in eons we are at an advantage. The eternal stalemate is broken. Now we all need to push ahead with just as much strength and determination as always and, if Primus is with us, we will finally put an end to this conflict. I count on each and every one of you to help make that happen!”

We will make it happen, Marissa resolved. The War for Cybertron was going to end soon and she was going home.

End Chapter 20

 

Chapter 21: How the War was Won

*****

Journal of Captain Marissa Fairborn, United States Air Force
Earth Date March 25, 2013 (approx.)


With the defeat and arrest of Megatron at Nova Cronum, the Decepticon front lines collapsed. Given the many coup attempts against him – as well as his growing paranoia – Megatron had apparently thoroughly purged the ranks of his high-level officers and so the Decepticons’ military hierarchy was thrown into chaos the moment he was no longer there to rule from the top. Decepticon troops found themselves isolated with no clear chain of command, receiving contradictory orders from at least half a dozen different guys looking to take over the big job. Rewind and Blaster had made sure to repeatedly broadcast Megatron’s defeat over every known frequency and the blow to Decepticon morale had been tremendous.

It took another four months – barely more than an eye blink by Cybertronian standard – until Autobot troops invaded Polyhex, the Decepticon capitol. Decepticon resistance was stiff, but poorly organized. Grimlock reserved for himself the pleasure of kicking down the doors of Fortress Darkmount, leading his Dynobots as the spearhead of a massive charge. Those within the fortress finally surrendered and the Autobots’ flag (or holographic symbol, rather) was raised on Darkmount’s highest spire.

As far as we can tell the Decepticons no longer exist as a cohesive military or political entity at this point. There are scattered Decepticon troops all over Cybertron and the Grid Worlds, naturally, but to the best of our knowledge there is no longer any unifying command structure. What worries me, though, is the so-called Big List. Ever since he took over as Optimus Prime’s chief strategist Prowl has kept a list of the most important and/or dangerous Decepticons that he considered priority targets and tracked their movements to the best of the Autobots’ intelligence network’s ability. And as it turns out, quite a few names on that list are currently unaccounted for.

Soundwave,
Starscream,
Overlord,
Bludgeon,
Thunderwing,
Scorponok,
and Shockwave

The good news is, though, that Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Brainstorm have conducted a thorough search of Darkmount Fortress and found what appears to be Shockwave’s main laboratory. If there are any records to be found regarding Shockwave’s Space Bridge improvements, odds are they’ll be there.

*****

Fortress Darkmount, Polyhex, Planet Cybertron
March 25, 2013


“So what have you found?” Marissa asked, looking around the room. Apparently it had once been the main strategic planning centre for the Decepticon war effort. Now the Autobot symbol was displayed on the far wall.

“The good news is,” Wheeljack began, putting several data pads on the table before him, “that Shockwave was apparently forced to leave in a hurry. Most of the hard drives have been deleted, but not formatted. Chromedome and Mainframe are working on data recovery as we speak. We’ve already reviewed some of it and... yeah, I’ll leave the high-level quantum-wormhole-transwarp theoretical stuff to Perceptor, but the long and short of it is: we believe we’ll be able to make Shockwave’s receiver-less Space Bridge work.”

Marissa gasped, barely able to keep from jumping for joy. “You mean...”

“Yes,” Wheeljack told her. “We need to do a lot of number crunching, which will probably take quite some time, but... I’m confident we can send you home, Marissa!”

Unable to restrain herself, Marissa ran forward and hugged Wheeljack... well, his arm, anyway. Given that she was in her Headmaster suit and standing on top of the table, it was the only practical way.

“Thank you, Wheeljack,” she just said. “Thank you so much.”

“I don’t want to spoil the moment,” Ultra Magnus said from the other side of the table, “but you said ‘good news’, which implies, I assume, that there is also bad news?”

Wheeljack nodded, gently recovering his arm from Marissa’s hug to pick up another data pad.

“We went over every scrap of data we found in this fortress and apparently Shockwave arranged for a large number of materials and troops to be shipped to a remote location during the last stellar cycle or so. It was mostly hidden in larger transfer orders, but after Megatron’s defeat at Nova Cronum he apparently stopped being stealthy and just shipped stuff off wholesale.”

“Do we know where?” Optimus Prime asked.

“Roughly,” Wheeljack replied. “Somewhere on the outskirts of Kaon, though the orders include passing the materials on to Decepticon units already present, so it’s possible they simply moved them elsewhere afterwards.”

Prowl studied the data on Wheeljack’s pad.

“We know that Shockwave was only with Megatron out of convenience. From all this I’d say that he saw the writing on the wall and made preparations for the post-Megatron era. Given the troops and materials, either he’s setting up a new Decepticon central command hub somewhere else on the planet or he might be planning on abandoning Cybertron altogether to start fresh elsewhere.”

Rewind, who had been taping everything as it happened, hopped onto the table besides Marissa.

“I would bet my Shanix on the latter option. The outer Kaon province Protex was the site of the colony shipyards. Pre-war the ships designed to seek out new planets to add to the Space Bridge grid were constructed there. I doubt there are any completed ships left; they were probably scavenged for the war effort long ago. It should still have all the facilities necessary to construct one, though.”

Prime nodded. “It’s worth investigating. Marissa, take your Maniacs, hook up with Silverbolt, and do aerial reconnaissance of the area. If Shockwave is holed up somewhere in Kaon, I want him found.”

Marissa nodded enthusiastically. They had the means to send her home, but as long as Shockwave was free, she knew they couldn’t take the risk of actually doing it. So he had to be found. Jumping off the table, she ran towards the landing platform where she’d parked Thrymir.

“Maniacs,” she opened her com. “Form up! We got work to do!”

*****

Province Protex, Torus State Kaon
March 25, 2013


“Anything?” Marissa asked.

Maverick’s Maniacs had hooked up with Silverbolt’s Superion Squad and were busy searching every square mile of the war-torn Kaon landscape. This was still technically Decepticon territory, such as it was, and they’d been shot at twice by small Decepticon forces on the ground. Those were just scattered remnants, though, and not what they were looking for.

“Nothing so far,” Silverbolt called back. Seniority put the large Autobot flyer in charge of this joint mission.

“We’re coming up on the Protex shipyards now if the maps Rewind dug up are to be believed,” Steelwing reported. “Never thought I’d actually see them in person.”

Marissa reminded herself that Steelwing was very young for a Cybertronian, only a few 10,000 years old. The tales of Cybertronian ships sailing the stars to settle new planets that could then be reached on foot simply by stepping through a Space Bridge were just that for her: tales.

Just ahead Marissa could see huge gaps in the metal landscape. From the maps she’d seen she knew them to be construction pits, somewhat similar to dry docks on Earth. In the distant past huge space arks had been constructed here. Now they all stood empty, whatever half-finished ships they’d once contained had long been eaten up by the war.

“I’m getting high-level energy readings,” Swoop announced. “Coming from the far end of the yards.”

“Gun it, people,” Silverbolt ordered. “Activate weapons and keep a sensor out for enemy units!”

The two squadrons shot forward. Moments later they came under fire.

“I make three, no, make that four flak batteries. They form a perimeter around the far-end construction pit.”

“Pair off and take them out!”

With Swoop on her wing Marissa went into a steep dive until she had the far left flak battery in her sights. Giving the mental command to fire her blaster cannons was almost an afterthought. As she came out of her dive, though, she saw something huge moving just ahead.

“It’s a slaggin’ ship,” Swoop cursed. “The one-eyed bastard really built himself a ship.”

A giant wedge-shaped craft rose from the construction pit as if being lifted out by some unseen giant’s hands. Something else was moving as well, though. The formerly featureless landscape beside the construction pit began to shift and transform. A huge arch rose out of the ground, forming a circle easily big enough to allow the newly risen ship to pass through it.

“Sensors are picking up transwarp radiation,” Silverbolt announced. “That arch is a Space Bridge terminal.”

Silverbolt had barely finished his sentence when the interior of the arch flared to life. Marissa had seen more than her share of Space Bridges by now to recognize them. On the far side of that swirling pool of energy was another world. Shockwave was trying to leave Cybertron.

“Maniacs! Take out that arch,” she ordered.

Before they could move in, though, a squadron of Seekers separated from the slow-moving ship and screamed directly towards them, filling the sky with blaster fire. Unable to break loose, Marissa had to concentrate fully on the ensuing dogfight. The Decepticons were outnumbered, but didn’t seem to care, joyfully sacrificing themselves to buy precious time.

“He’s getting away,” someone yelled over the com.

Cursing, Marissa blew a Seeker away and accelerated Thrymir for all he was worth. Swoop, Steelwing, and Highbrow were right behind her, she noticed, as they quickly closed the distance to the Decepticon ship.

Not quickly enough, though.

The Space Bridge winked out of existence, leaving no trace of the space ship that had been here moments ago. Marissa and her wingmates shot through empty air. Moments later explosions bloomed across the entire giant Space Bridge arch, shattering it in an instant.

“Bastard closed the door behind him,” Swoop cursed.

“Calling Iacon! Blaster can you hear me? Did you guys pick up that Space Bridge transit?”

The com channel crackled for a moment, then Blaster came online.

“Impossible not to, girl. Biggest Space Bridge portal in eons, I think. They picked that up all the way up on Lunar 1, I think.”

“Do we know where they went?”

“The number crunchers are working on it. We should have a destination point in a few Breems.”

There was no logic to it, no conceivable way it should be possible, but Marissa had a horrible sinking feeling that she knew exactly where Shockwave had gone. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

*****

22 miles above Tromso, Norway
March 25, 2013


The Space Bridge portal closed behind them, leaving the Decepticon Fleet Carrier Nemesis drifting in orbit above the world the alien Marissa Fairborn had come from. Shockwave stood on the bridge, his single optic looking down onto the face of this new planet with satisfaction.

“Phase I is complete,” he stated. “Begin preparations for phase II.”

Completely invisible to Earth’s sensors, the space craft slowly began its descent towards the planet below.


THE END


Next time on “Humans in Disguise”:The War for Cybertron is all but over. But the Battle for Earth is about to begin. Marissa Fairborn returns home after years of being lost in space. She is not the same woman that vanished from Earth so long ago. Then again, neither is Earth the same planet she left behind.

 

The story continues here:

Transformers: Human in Disguise - Book II: Battlefield Earth

 

I read the first three chapters so far, very interesting take on the mythos. Definitely going to read the rest tomorrow.