Some years ago I did a sequel to my Optimus fanfic that saw the titular Autobot leader reimagined as a TFA-esque youth in charge of a small bad of Autobots, pitted against an equally novice team of Decepticons in search of a great power lost to space. Their struggle took them across the galaxy and back to Cybertron where Optimus was thought lost. But he lived, as did my universe I'd spent a lot of time and love crafting. I'm not terribly proud of the initial long-running Optimus story, but I liked those character enough to give it a proper follow-up in Ruined, which saw Optimus face off against the renegade Scourge and developed the characters in ways I'd always wanted to but never did.

Now I'm looking to continue that story, and likewise take these characters on paths I've always envisioned them on but never realized. To everyone who read the first two and to everyone who might read this, I truly thank you and hope you'll enjoy this, too.   Like the last two this will be ongoing, and will definitely be more Ruined-sized.


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Chapter One

No Business Like Snow Business​

“This is miserable!” Ruiner complained, brushing more snow off the stack of metal beams. He picked one up and knocked it against the rest to get the last of it off, “how did it snow so much in one night? I only left these here yesterday and I almost couldn’t find them this morning!”

“Because we’re in Canada?” Road Rage said, connecting various wires to a junction box, “better get used to it, it’s only December. We still have two or three more months of this, give or take.”

“So every year it snows?” Ruiner asked, “at the same exact time?”

“Every year,” she answered.

“Everywhere?” he asked again.

“Well, no,” Road Rage put the cover back on the box and screwed it in place with the tools in her fingertips, “if you head far enough South it doesn’t. It’s usually warmer around the equator, just like any planet this type.”

“And why can’t we live there?” Ruiner continued to complain, taking a moment to kick his foot against the beam to remove the caked layers of ice and snow. “When Optimus told me about snow tires I thought he was joking. This morning I went bumper-first into a drift that was not there yesterday!”

“You could get a snow-plow!” Road Rage said with an enthusiastic finger point, “like Thomas the Tank Engine!”

“Or,” Ruiner pointed back, matching her enthusiasm, “I could just become a tank!”

“A tank engine, not a tank, like a train” she replied. Road Rage placed the junction box itself in another, weather-proof cover, and sprayed some quick-dry sealant around the edges for added protection. She ran her hand along her brow in mock fatigue, “I’m all done here, just need to reinforce the new dish.” She took a step back to get a good view of the new communication array. The dish was larger and more rectangular than their previous setup, with a wire mesh design to avoid collecting water and snow.

“I’m gonna need a nice, long electrum bath for this,” Ruiner said as he began positioning one of the beams. His hand slid into his forearm, whereafter it was replaced with a small arc cutter which he then used on the piece to match the array’s contours. “Nothing like honest grunt work to keep the coolant running hot.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Road Rage said with a sigh and picked up a beam of her own. “If you didn’t complain so much we would’ve been done ages ago.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruiner shrugged as he switched from cutting to welding, “the long range array has been down for three weeks now. Would it have really been that much worse if we put it off until it wasn’t so cold?”

“I can see how that might make sense to you,” Optimus said as he appeared from the trees behind them, “but personally I feel like we’ve been disconnected from Cybertron for long enough. While I doubt anything world-changing has happened in such a short time, I’d like to keep up on current events. There’s still a war going on, after all.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Ruiner sighed and got back to work, humming to himself. Optimus picked up materials and began to lend a hand. Together the three quickly finished reinforcing the dish, and Optimus breathed a sigh of relief as snowflakes began to descend.

“And not a moment too soon,” Road Rage remarked. She clasped her hands and rubbed them together. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to cozy up inside, relax, and recharge in front of a big T.V. with the fireplace channel on.”

“The authentic holiday experience,” Optimus said. The three packed up and carried their supplies through the woods to a hill. Embedded in the side was a dugout with a large concrete archway just big enough for two Autobots to enter side by side, but short enough that Optimus had to duck when passing through the large steel doors. It was one of several hidden entrances to the underground facility, but only one of three that they could all fit through. Optimus kicked his feet free of dirt and ice, as did the others, and they all deposited the supplies in a large storage room. The exact nature of the facility was still a mystery to them, save for the study and experimentation of Sky-Byte and his abilities, but it was so huge and so much of it physically inaccessible due to their size, it likely held secrets they’d never discover. However, the area they could access was just big enough that they could use it as a viable headquarters and living space, with the odd room to spare.

“Let’s scare up some fuel rods and hunker down,” Road Rage rocked her right shoulder joint as they entered the main room. A large collage of monitors took up the entire far wall, playing various television channels, some news feeds and others random programming, but Road Rage was quick to grab the remote and switch them to a composite view of the aforementioned fireplace channel. Satisfied, she went over to the small ‘kitchen’ area which consisted of a recharge station, as well as a small stack of Energon cubes, all set into an alcove along the left hand wall. “The weather outside is, well, not so much frightful as somewhat intimidating, but energy is so delightful.”

“Oh, you’re back already,” Botanica said as she glided into the room, her four arms holding two separate electronic tablets. “I trust the repairs were successful?”

“If storm winds knock this new dish out of commission,” Ruiner said, likewise taking part in fueling himself from the station, “then quite frankly a higher power conspires against us. It should be good as gold whenever you want to do calculations or whatever.”

“To be quite honest, I didn’t expect you’d be done so quickly,” Botanica said, “I’m in the middle of cultivating fresh flora samples from overseas, very delicate, I hope you don’t mind if I tend to them first.”

“That’s pretty high praise,” Optimus said, “if we finished ahead of Botanica’s projections.”

“When you told me Ruiner would be helping I naturally assumed the task would take twice as long to complete as it should,” Botanica said without a hint of sarcasm as she left, causing Ruiner to pout and Road Rage to laugh heartily at his expense.

“I’ll run diagnostics on the tachyon transmitter in the meantime,” Optimus said, looking around the room. Ironhide, Spiral, and Jetfire weren’t anywhere to be seen. Jetfire had even more limited options than the rest of them due to his size, but a heavy duty loading ramp just right of the main room connected the indoor “main road” of the facility to the tunnel they had just entered from, and was Jetfire’s preferred spot to lounge and be part of the group. If he wasn’t there, he was likely in his room, and the other two as well. “Actually,” Optimus said, “I’ll be right back.”

“What about ‘staying disconnected for long enough?’” Ruiner asked, and Road Rage yanked on the power line connecting him to the fuel station. The two fussed about some more, leaving Optimus free to start the diagnostics program from one of the small terminal stations on the right hand side, and thus gave him time to kill.

Optimus started by making his way down the large tunnel leading from the main room that functioned as the main hallway from which the majority of accessible rooms branched off from. Despite their best efforts to keep the facility maintained, some of the corridors had an unmistakably dingy quality to them. Decades-old wear from heavy vehicles was evident on the ground, and the poorly lit, tall ceilings lined with exposed pipes were covered in grime and rust. Some of the smaller offices were clearly dated with linoleum tile and wood trim, and the main passages were bereft of any decoration aside from directional markings, but even many of those were worn away to mere outlines. Optimus found it fascinating given his limited knowledge of Earth eras to see something so preserved. The facility had been sealed until they broke in over a year ago, abandoned and kept at a safe distance due to the dangerous radiation Sky-Byte emitted, but human science understood little of Cybertron science, and if the humans had ever returned they would’ve found the radiation from his transwarp drive did not “stick” to the surroundings like other kinds. As soon as they had teleported him out it became safe once more. Optimus ran his hand along the walls as he neared Jetfire’s room, his fingertips sliding into pockmarks and sword slashes, and the memories of their conflict pooled to the forefront from the back corners of his mind. It wasn’t quite nostalgia, but the sensation of those memories was poignant all the same.

“Ironhide, Jetfire!” Optimus said cheerfully as he stood on the raised level above the chamber where it all happened. He waved to his friends below, and Ironhide waved back. He was knelt next to Jetfire, who held his cane with both hands and gave a pleasant nod. The elderly robot was sat comfortably in a seat constructed from the old gantry that had once held a very powerful Cybertronian, and other amenities were assembled to make the space livable, including a computer terminal, large view screen, his own energy supply, and a full mechanical suite for all his maintenance needs. They had procured the best tools and materials available to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Come to check on our little project?” Ironhide asked, wiping his chunky hands with a rag, and Optimus saw he had just finished some work to Jetfire’s leg. He motioned towards a large, tarp-covered object in the corner with more tools and parts stacked near it, some not even taken out of their packaging. Ironhide stood, tossing the rag onto a toolbox, “the old man needed a gyroscope calibration. Since I’ve got the tools out, you want to run connection tests on Big Blue?”

“I thought Spiral was helping you?” Optimus changed the subject.

“Oh,” Ironhide’s tone dropped an octave as he stood up, “you’ll find her in the gym.”

“Still?” Optimus put his hands on his hips. It seemed to Optimus that she spent most of her time in the gym, or out on drives. For some reason, and only as of late, she’d been avoiding them.

“Word to the wise-” Ironhide shouted up to him, “she’s… crusty.”

“Yay,” Optimus sighed. The gym wasn’t far from Jetfire’s room, so he begrudgingly continued along the hallway. They tried to occupy as many spaces in close proximity as they could, but only so many rooms could fit them, and one in particular was massive. Too massive to be any one ‘bot’s quarters. Botanica had speculated it was for testing machinery, but due to ‘intellectual integrity’ she refused to speculate on what without further evidence, but it would have been pretty big. Optimus approached the bulkhead door to the gym and raised his fist to knock, only to decide not to. It was everyone’s gym, after all. He pressed the recently installed Autobot-sized switch and the doors parted. After a few seconds they were far enough apart to squeeze through, but even before that he’d heard the harsh clanging of metal on metal. Spiral stood in the middle of the room unleashing punch after punch onto a chained bundle of rusted car chassis suspended from the ceiling gantries. Interspersed with the punches were a few kicks, jabs, and Optimus watched as the intensity built to the point where she punched with enough force to dislodge the bundle of cars entirely, and they slammed into the floor with a loud and messy clatter.

“Can I help you?” Spiral sighed breathlessly as she turned to Optimus.

“Just, uh, seeing what’s up?” He said nonchalantly.

“I’m busy,” Spiral said, picking the punching bag back up. She reached to clasp it back to the ceiling gantry but came up short. She groaned, Optimus silently offering to re-attach it for her. She didn’t object.

“Are you, uh… doing okay?” Optimus asked as he hooked it back up.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked back, and Optimus didn’t really have an answer. She certainly didn’t seem happy, but Optimus wasn’t the best at theorizing people’s emotions.

“I just meant, I mean…” Optimus took a step back as Spiral immediately started laying into the punching bag once more. He rubbed the back of his head, searching for good words, “you’re a bit of a stranger these days.” He laughed nervously, but Spiral didn’t answer. Optimus cleared his throat, “I mean, Botanica and Ironhide have their plants, Jetfire has his T.V., the other two and me have our little diversions, it’s all copacetic out there, I just feel like…” Optimus felt as though every word put him more and more into the proverbial hole, almost anxious that she’d use him as her next punching bag. “Don’t you get a little lonely always being off by yourself? Why not be part of the group?” Spiral stopped punching, letting the ‘bag’ swing.

“Being alone doesn’t bother me,” she said, and Optimus thought for a moment he was getting somewhere, until Spiral stopped the bag from swinging. She held it in place, not looking at him or giving any insight into her state of mind. Just as Optimus was about to try again, she spoke up; “Actually, I’m going out for a bit.”

“Oh,” Optimus said, almost startled by how abrupt her words were. The two stood in silence for a few awkward moments as she stared at him, until he realized she was awaiting his permission, though he never implied she needed it. “Of course! Yeah, absolutely, that’s fine, go on out” he said. Optimus felt an intense pressure from her silence as Spiral exited the gym into the hallway. Optimus took a moment to close the bulkhead before following, hearing heavy footsteps coming up from Jetfire’s room. Ironhide gave Spiral a friendly wave which she only barely reciprocated.

“Any idea what that was about?” Ironhide asked. Optimus shrugged.

“I thought I was doing a pretty good job,” Optimus sighed as he watched her head for the main exit. His head fell just a bit “Everybody else seems happy.”

“Don’t take it personal, big guy,” Ironhide gave his friend a pat on the shoulder as they walked back to the main room. “Spiral can be a one-way mirror. She can get you to open up easily, but try to look in and it’s, as the humans would say, ‘like pulling teeth.’”

“I just hope it’s nothing serious,” Optimus replied. “I get the feeling I’ve done something wrong.”

“Trust me, if you did, you’d know,” Ironhide chuckled. He took a seat at one of the terminals on the right, said seat salvaged from their shuttle. Road Rage smiled enthusiastically as she stood behind Botanica who manned the communications station. Optimus stood in the center of the room behind the concrete sofa, in which sat Ruiner who stared at the static.

“Tachyon wave emitter online,” Botanica reported. “Output signal strength is green, and we’re calibrated to the satellite network.”

“Just try and stop us now, nature!” Road Rage gave Botanica a firm tug on the shoulder with one hand and a fist pump with the other.

“Open a subspace line straight to Cybertron,” Optimus ordered, ready to see the fruits of their labour.

“Incoming transmission,” Botanica said, her brow furrowed. Optimus snapped his head towards her in disbelief that they’d just happen to receive a transmission at this exact moment. Botanica, however, didn’t meet his gaze, eyes locked on to her screen, “but not from Cybertron; It’s local.”

“Egads, it’s E.G.A.D.S.!” Ruiner exclaimed, referring to the Extraterrestrial Governing Alliance Defense Sector. The Autobots maintained regular contact with humanity’s governments through this specialized multi-national coalition, but they rarely initiated contact unless it was an emergency.

“Run a full encryption and put it through,” Optimus said. He did not distrust the humans, but like many biological races their cybersecurity left something to be desired. A moment later a human appeared on screen; a woman clad in a white and blue suit with wavy red hair down to her shoulders. Road Rage had once compared the colour to that of leaves during the fall, while Ruiner had insisted it was more akin to rust.

“Deputy Director Faireborn,” Optimus greeted her, smiling earnestly, “good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Optimus,” Marissa Faireborn replied, likewise cordial, only for her warm expression to cool in less than an instant, “I wish we were contacting you under better circumstances.”

“What’s the matter?” Optimus asked. Even Optimus could tell something serious was troubling Marissa.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” she said plainly, “our orbital telescopes found a shadow in front of Jupiter.”

“What do you mean by ‘a shadow?’” Road Rage asked on behalf of everyone, “are we talking about a spaceship?”

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Marissa explained, “it was captured two days ago and was sent for processing. It was analyzed by the best experts in the field before it was handed over to us. I just got the silhouette minutes ago.”

“If you’re allowed, I’d like to see it,” Optimus asked, and a moment later four of the twenty-five collaged view screens switched to a small image of Jupiter. Botanica pushed a few buttons and the images of Faireborn and the planet swapped, the large planet with its characteristic lines and red dot now dominating the wall. Now it was Ironhide’s turn, zooming and enhancing the image as best he could to show a tiny black speck near the bottom. Botanica typed away, running her own analysis on the supposed silhouette.

“Analysis shows ninety-five percent symmetry,” Botanica stated, “it’s almost certainly unnatural, and with symmetry that good it’s aligned with Earth.”

“Can’t make out anything from this,” Ruiner said, squinting at the image. “Is that seriously the best resolution?”

“If you can do better I’d love to see it,” Marissa said. “This is the only frame it was captured on.”

“We were temporarily out of contact with Cybertron until just recently,” Optimus admitted. “It’s entirely possible command may have tried to contact us ahead of time.” He tried to minimize the extent of his error. It was unlikely, but if someone back home had attempted contact over the three weeks of signal loss Cybertron could have sent a rescue ship, or at least a probe, but he had to be careful how much information he gave E.G.A.D.S.. Autobot high command had stringent disclosure policies with alien life, and Optimus had to haggle just for permission to give humanity the name of their home planet in the interest of good relations.

“I can run a scan for lingering hails,” Botanica said. “If it is an Autobot ship, they would’ve attempted long-range contact upon entering the system. Those may still be coming in.”

“And if it’s not an Autobot ship?” Marissa asked. It wasn’t a question Optimus wanted to answer. They had only been on Earth for just over a year, he was hoping they could at least settle in a bit more before starting another intergalactic incident.

“Let me call you back,” Optimus said, “we’ll contact Cybertron and get back to you as soon as we get an answer.” Marissa nodded and the feed cut out.

“Her voice is so silly,” Ruiner remarked. “It sounds so fleshy and fake, like it’s too clear. Humans are weird.”

“We owe a lot to Miss Faireborn,” Optimus gave a hand signal to Botanica to establish contact with Cybertron, “without her knack for diplomacy our little secret war could’ve done a lot of damage with human relations.”

“I suppose between us living in disguise amongst them and them holding one of our own captive for decades, the karma was evened out,” Road Rage said.

“That’s odd,” Botanica’s tone was uncharacteristically quizzical, and it was enough to make Optimus join her at her station with Road Rage. He leaned in to get a better look at what got her attention.

“What’s odd?” Ruiner asked, “the thing about karma? I don’t think it’s that weird, if I’m being honest. In fact recently I’ve kind of come around to that thinking myself.”

“No, the transmitter,” Botanica explained, “we have signal strength, we have a subspace connection, but I’m not getting a ping back.”

“Cybertron’s not picking up?” Ironhide asked, joining the rest at the communication station. Ruiner sighed dramatically before getting off the sofa, not wanting to feel left out. Soon all five of them were hunkered around the single monitor, but Botanica uttered her thoughts aloud all the same.

“It’s not that,” Botanica explained with mounting anxiety, “if we were just being ignored, I’d at least get a ping in return. Our frequency is being jammed.”

“That’s impossible,” Optimus said, “human technology doesn't have that capability, and no jammer reaches from Jupiter to here.”

“Look!” Road Rage pointed at the status screen next to the main terminal. It showed the active status of the orbital satellite array humanity had ‘loaned’ the Autobots. One by one their signals were lost. Optimus tapped the keypad and quickly brought up a map of which satellites were affected, and his Spark sunk.

“We have to move,” Optimus said. “Botanica, you stay here and call Spiral back. Get E.G.A.D.S. and inform them of the estimated landing site. The rest of you are with me,” Optimus led the others to the main hallway and slammed the door release.

“What the hell is happening?” Road Rage asked. “This doesn’t make any sense, of all the planets.”

“We’ll have to find that out for ourselves,” Optimus said as the door finished opening. “Autobots, let’s roll out!” The four of them transformed into vehicle mode, Optimus taking point and Ironhide in the rear. The door at the end of the hallway opened up as they drove into the frigid evening air, exiting through a largely concealed concrete overhang guarded by a seemingly rusty, unused gate. It swung open automatically and took them along a winding, barely defined road through thick trees. This secretive lane would connect them through gradually less obscure paths and eventually onto a main road that followed the curve of the land into town, but while Optimus led his group to the less-populated rural settlement, Spiral had already left the woods and gone the opposite direction towards the city. She had taken no particular route, yet ended up in familiar territory, and quietly drove through the lit streets of the oddly serene snow-covered metropolis.

It was just after the holidays humans celebrated, and the rush had subsided and normality returned. The Autobots had celebrated their own approximation of the holidays, though Spiral wasn’t feeling too cheerful. As street lights reflected off her smooth chassis, she lamented how ill-equipped for such weather her vehicle mode really was. Indeed, it wasn’t her choice of alternate form at all, she’d received it on a whim long ago from the Decepticon Soundwave, the same individual who would go on to betray them not once, but twice. The luxurious nature of her form wasn’t so much of an inconvenience on Cybertron, where roads were smooth and clear year round, but the turbulent seasons of Earth made her feel under-dressed. Had she given it more thought, Spiral likely would’ve been rebuilt or reformatted before coming here, but she didn’t think. Not when they decided to come to Earth, and not about what her new life would be. She just followed her friends, and left the thinking to Optimus.

Spiral stopped at a red light, though the streets were empty. She idled in the frigid winter air, wondering which direction she’d go next. If she kept straight, she’d eventually hit the on ramp to the highway that would carry her back to where she came, but if she went left she’d be taken deeper into the city. Spiral wasn’t quite sure what lay on the route to her right, and once the light turned green she decided to take the road less travelled. It soon became obvious this was a more industrial section of the city, with construction equipment occupying much of the lots to her left, and several plainbuildings to her right. They lacked any indication of what they were, and were only about a dozen or so stories tall. With nothing to see of interest, and incredibly bored, Spiral decided to make a U-turn and head back when a bizarre alert pinged on her passive scans. The tiniest of radiation spikes, utterly innocuous were in not for the fact that there wasn’t a soul around. None of the windows were lit, and even if they were a quick glance between buildings showed empty parking lots. Spiral had long since calibrated her scanners to account for the baseline radiation of Earth, and she quickly honed in on the direction of the spike. It was behind one of the unmarked buildings with few windows, and she pulled up. There was a large gate blocking access to the rear, and she thought for a moment about whether or not that’d be trespassing if she entered the premises. She contemplated only a moment longer before transforming and hopping over the ten foot high fence, deciding she’d just take a quick peek to satisfy her nagging curiosity. She tip-toed through the crunchy snow along the wall, and realized there may be security cameras. She looked to her right at the corner ahead and, sure enough, saw one angled right towards the gate. However, she noticed something odd about its shape. She approached the camera and gingerly reached for the top of it, plucking something small and obviously foriegn from its casing. It was an electronic bug of some kind, a node with a small magnetic clamp and a geometric housing, and she could feel it was emitting a low-yield signal meant to disrupt, or likely disguise, the feed from the camera.

And it was Cybertronian.

Spiral quickly placed the bug in a shielded compartment on her hip and ducked low. Something was definitely not right, and she carefully peered around the corner. There was a loading bay door of some kind, but it looked far more robust than a simple freight entrance. She surveyed the lot and couldn’t see anything amiss, not even the snow was disturbed. It was empty, and that somehow made her feel even more uneasy. The parking lot wasn’t lit at all, and she activated her night vision as she carefully approached the loading bay. Upon closer inspection she saw what looked like tiny burn marks, next to the electronic lock, and looked at the seam at the bottom. She waved her hand by it and, watching the feather-like snowflakes slide underneath it, could tell it was opened.

“Spiral to base,” she keyed her commlink, “Spiral to base, please respond, is anyone there?” Spiral checked her signal ping and got nothing. She wasn’t just not getting a response, she wasn’t even getting a connection. She was being jammed, and that feeling of unease spiked in full-blown panic.

Spiral instinctively leapt back as something fast and sharp sliced the air in front of her, tearing up a wad of ice and asphalt where she’d just stood. She tripped, rolling once onto her side before scrambling out of the way of a second attack. Long, razor-tipped tendrils lashed out at her, and she leapt over the fence and back onto the street. Something very large and very fast bore down on her, and she felt herself pushed hard across the street into the construction site, hitting her head hard on the caterpillars of an Earthmover. Dazed, Spiral shakily rose to her feet and brought up her hands to fight, only to see a large, black figure with piercing red eyes looming in the shadows.

“You had me worried there,” the figure said, sliding through the darkness, “I had worried I’d been compromised, but it seems it was mere luck that you stumbled upon me.”

“You won’t be feeling so lucky, creep,” Spiral said, shaking her head clear. She heard what sounded like reeling wire from behind and dover out of the way, her attacker landing on top of the Earthmover. He was tall, almost entirely black, and his features were spiky and monstrous. Tentacle-like extremities wriggled from his back, and he had four red eyes. Spiral nearly thought she was still seeing things, his form was so bizarre, and she quickly reached for a large steel I-beam as a weapon. “And just what are you supposed to be, ugly?”

“You can call me Crowbar,” he said, and leapt towards her. She swung the beam, missed, and Crowbar quickly ensnared it in his tendrils. Spiral tried to fight for it, but he wrenched it from her hands and struck her in the side with it. His tentacles were stronger than they appeared, and were as dexterous as extra limbs. She recoiled from another blow before he tossed it away, Spiral stumbling back towards a backhoe. She grabbed the scoop and swung it, popping the hydraulics as the armature slugged Crowbar in the face. Her first successful hit opened him up to another attack, which manifested as a flying kick from Spiral. Crowbar went down but recovered, but not before Spiral had grabbed a portable cement drum and hurled it at him. His tendrils easily sliced through the metal drum, but that was merely a diversion to allow Spiral to leap towards him, a jackhammer in her hand. She thumbed the switch and plunged the tool into his collar, digging into his armour. It had to have hurt, but aside from a few grunts, Crowbar didn't show it. Instead he simply coiled all four tentacles around Spiral, constricting her and holding her aloft. He threw her, hard, across the ground, and Spiral collapsed in a heap within a partially built foundation. She collected herself, climbing out of the pit to see Crowbar sprinting away. He leapt into the air, transformed, and landed on four heavy tires as a pitch-black SUV. Spiral gave chase, transforming as well, and the two sped away from the site and quickly out of the city. Spiral wasn’t about to let what was clearly a Decepticon insurgent escape, but she needed to contact the others. Her signal was still being jammed, but his jamming function likely had a range of only a hundred or so meters given his size, but that would be breaking her pursuit. She weighed her options, felt the pulse of her Spark beating in her chassis, and decided she’d take this Decepticon down herself. She chased Crowbar into the mountains, the weather and time of day leaving the streets empty. He was fast, but in a straightaway she’d be faster. A straight kilometer of road led into the mountains, and it was there Spiral would have her opportunity to close the gap. They twisted along with the road, going deeper and deeper into the forest mountainside. Spiral could see his taillights, and soon the straightaway was in view. She hit the accelerator and booked it, closing in on the red dots until she was meters away, and nearly slammed on her brakes.

It wasn’t Crowbar, it was just a normal truck. Spiral had been watching them the whole time, even in the darkness she would’ve noticed if he’d swerved. It was impossible unless he was far faster than she gave him credit for, and just as that realization came she heard an engine to her left. Out of the treeline came a black SUV that collided with her, sending Spiral flying off the road and into the woods. She tumbled for what seemed like ages, bashing against trees and bushes, rolling end over end until she finally hit the bottom. She laid still for a moment, a smoking wreck covered in dirt and snow, before trying to transform. She pulled herself apart and into robot mode, the pain of doing so was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Both axles were shot, all four tires punctured, and her superstructure had received massive damage from the impact. She couldn’t stand, she could barely move, and it was all she could do to drag herself through the trees. All Spiral could think of was how she had to get away, find someplace safe, before Crowbar finished her off. Spiral feared nothing, not pain, not Decepticons, not even the monsters she’d faced a year ago, yet the thought of expiring in the cold darkness, alone and maimed, conjured and indescribably dread. She continued to pull herself through the thicket, away from her pursuer, until the treeline opened up. She found herself on a road, open, and though her vision was fading she could make out light. She heard a voice, the sound of car doors, and in her ruined state she could only utter a few words.

“Help me…” she struggled to speak to whoever, or whatever, was there, “please… help…”

Exhausted, she collapsed into the snow and lost consciousness. Nobody knew what had happened on that snowy road, least of all her friends who had been on the other side of the county, rushing towards the landing site Optimus had projected.

“Double time, Autobots!” Optimus ordered as the four accelerated down the highway.

“Just who, or what, would come to Earth?” Ironhide asked over the closed team radio. “It can’t be more Autobots.”

“No way,” Road Rage said, “we have protocols. You don’t just make landfall unannounced if there's already a team posted.”

“And the satellites?” Ruiner added, “no way that’s a coincidence. Somebody wanted to make an uninterrupted entrance.”

“And here, of all places,” Optimus wondered aloud, “be ready for anything.”

“Even Decepticons?” Ironhide asked. Optimus didn’t answer, instead he frantically slammed his brakes. The whole convoy skidded to a halt, and they all switched to robot mode as they stared at the clouds above. A black mass formed within them, and like a storm forming began to swirl and part.

“By Primacron’s ghost…” Road Rage uttered, “that can’t be-?”

“I never thought I’d see it in person,” Ruiner said, taking a reflexive step back, “I’d only seen video, heard the stories…”

“I don’t understand,” Ironhide shook his head, “why here? Why now?”

“Road Rage, contact E.G.A.D.S. immediately!” Optimus ordered. He turned to his comrade who simply looked on with a face of horror. Optimus barked his order again “Road Rage!”

“R-right, yeah,” she said, snapping out of it. She held a finger to her head’s communicator.

“If this is real,” Ruiner said, “if this is really it…”

“Then that means he’s here, too.” Ironhide finished his thought.

“The Decepticon Capital Ship,” Optimus uttered, “The Revenge.”

“And her captain-” Ruiner almost choked on his words, “her captain is the real thing… the actual supreme ruler of the Decepticons!” Optimus felt his Spark burning in his chest as the name formed in his mind, and his jaw was terse and reluctant to say it aloud.

“Galvatron.”

 

Did not expect 2021 to kick off with a third part to this series. I remember wondering way back when, when you had posted designs for Galvatron, Crowbar and Bonecrusher whether you were going to write another part detailing them, though I think I had written it off that these were more conceptual in nature. I think it's interesting to see Spiral appearing to be the center focus on this chapter. Spiral has always stood out to me in this cast for being probably the most obscure character here, and I always wondered about her inclusion in such a limited cast, but with no objections. This is probably the only series in existence that features her in any remotely prominent role, but I like the way her prominence in this chapter of the trilogy riffs off of the similar prominence Ruiner and Road Rage attained in Ruined, at least as far as themes and character development are concerned (What would this series even be called, anyway? The Optimus Trilogy? ORDS? Trans-Canadian-Formers? The Split Liperary Canon?). Everyone seems to remain in character, I dig that Optimus has maintained his development from the previous series' and has become more traditional with age and experience. The introduction of the first human in the fic as far as I remember was an interesting addition, though I dig the EGADS acronym and the inclusion of Faireborne within this capacity. I also appreciate how the threat level within this series has evolved in its natural path. Optimus featured a team of Decepticons on the same level as the Autobots, Ruined elevated the largest threat from the first series and wrapped up the remaining loose ends in doing so, and now we see the next logical step in the threat level, involving Decepticons of higher rank and more experience. The team has dealt with the grunts, and its higher leveled associates, now we get to see the admins in action. I am very interested in learning more about Galvatron. I know we've got some hints of what he will be like in the art thread a while back, but it's been a while since we've seen a proper team of Decepticons interact and scheme in this series. Part of me also wonders about characters like Soundwave, who's death seemed relatively vague, and the possibility of other prior villains returning, though it is not something I am actively expecting. The stakes have been set and I'm looking forward to reading more from this unique series.

 

Trans-Canadian-formers make sit sound like a cross-country race through the Yukon. I don't dislike that, but ORDS is a great acronym.

Thank you so much for your comments and continued interest. Without giving too much away, many of the characters and concepts from years ago are ones integral to the story so it will feature a lot of those ideas, but obviously a lot has changed and I got kinda fast-and-loose back then since I had no real idea what I'd be using. I'm definitely approaching this more from a Ruined mindset than the original, made-up as I go along Optimus fanfic. (which God, in hindsight I should've come up with a better name)

 

I am so thrilled that this is back. I need another season of this continuity every three or four years until I die

 

I'm thrilled that you're thrilled!  



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Chapter Two

An Invitation​

Spiral awoke in a panic, dazed and distracted by system notifications. She couldn’t see, and her heads up display warned of corrupted subroutines, but other than that her diagnostics considered the reboot successful. She reached for her face and felt material tugging on her arms, and sure enough her vision was obscured by some kind of tarp. She pulled it away only to find herself staring at a bright light. She shook her head free of the haze and examined her surroundings. She was on a flatbed, in some kind of small room. Aside from the overhanging lamp there were fluorescent tube lights on the adjacent wall above a tarp-covered vehicle, tools on a workbench beside it, and from these Spiral quickly surmised she was in a garage.

“I make a worse doctor than a mechanic,” a voice said from above and to her left. Spiral craned her head awkwardly to get an angle on the doorway, and a human with grey hair tied back into a ponytail stood at the door. He wore glasses and had facial hair, and he wiped his hands with a rag. He smiled, his eyes quickly vanishing beneath wrinkles as he did, “I don’t think you should be moving. You got hit really bad.”

“Who are you?” Spiral asked, “and where am I?” She sat up, expecting to be restrained, but inside she just banged her head against the swinging lamp.

“Frank,” he answered, “Frank Mathews.”

“Frank Mathews,” Spiral nodded. “You rescued me?”

“I just drove you someplace warm and dry,” he held up his hands, “lucky I had my winched flatbed today,” he nodded towards where Spiral’s head was, and there was indeed a towing winch. Frank continued, “usually I’m hauling busted snowmobiles on the trails, didn’t think I’d ever be carrying a government… whatever you are.” Spiral laid back down with a chuckle, resting her head. Frank took a few hesitant steps forward, “Y’know, I expected a person to be in there.”

“I’m not the government,” Spiral said, “would you believe I’m an alien?”

“Yeah, and I’m Don Cherry,” Frank laughed.

“Why’d you think I was human?” She asked, pulling the tarp back to inspect her injuries.

“Because you asked for help,” he explained, approaching her cautiously, “heck, you said ‘please,’ so you’re at least not from the city.” Spiral winced at that last part, unaware she’d pleaded before losing consciousness. She only vaguely remembered seeing someone, but her head was throbbing, and she still had corruption errors in her main drive engine and onboard computer, things she could not fix herself.

“You patched me up,” Spiral said, looking at the rather primitive repairs that were done.

“I just stopped the leaks and capped the wires,” Frank said. He let out a long breath, “God help me I’ve been fixing everything from RC cars to John Deeres and I’ve never seen anything like… you.”

“I can see that,” Spiral said. The human tried to act cordial, but he was clearly in awe, as was expected. Spiral did have to admit to herself his aide was surprising, and appreciated.

“Anything for a neighbor,” Frank said, to Spiral’s visible shock. Visible enough that he took notice, and clearly felt he needed to explain. “I’ve seen you fellas on the news.”

“Right,” Spiral said, making small adjustments to her injuries. She’d have to have Botanica go over her system damages, but if Spiral just had the tools from their base she could likely get herself walking again. As it stood the impact to her left side completely ruined her leg’s inner frame, and though Spiral had basic medical training for quick fixes in combat zones, there was nothing she could do about her vehicle mode. Just ten the details of the crash came flooding back, and she remembered the break-in at the office building, the chase along the mountain, and Crowbar. She cleared her vocal processor and looked to the human; “thank you, Mr. Mathews, for everything you’ve done. You’ve put yourself out for me and I apologize, but I have to ask you a favour-”

“If it’s to call your buddies, ‘fraid I can’t oblige,” Frank explained, “first thing I did when I got you back was try and call the police, but the phone’s out. T.V., too. Happens sometimes. They put up those big fancy cell towers and ‘four gee’ this and that and one little snow storm knocks it all down.”

“That’s just great,” Spiral leaned back with her head on her face. Her own communicators were shot, likely from the crash. Spiral turned her head to ask another question when she heard a creaking noise. The door that Frank entered from moved slightly, and Spiral saw movement, “do you live alone, Mr. Mathews?”

“Almost,” he said, “it’s me and my two daughters.” He placed his hands on his hips, “I wasn’t sure how many you wanted seeing you so I told them to stay inside.”

“You’re very wise, Mr. Mathews,” Spiral made some creaking sounds of her own as she tried to get comfortable, “and cautious. It’s probably for the best.” Spiral winced as she tried to move her leg so it wasn’t so close to the edge of the flatbed.

“Is there anything I can get ya?” Frank offered, “I’m going to take a wild guess you’re not a coffee drinker. The tarp was meant to keep you warm.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Spiral said, groaning as the pain finally started to catch up with her, “but what I need now is energy. At least then my basic self-repair systems can kick in and I can stop losing power from these injuries.”

“I got an old gas generator out back,” Frank pointed over his shoulder, “I’ve used it to charge my truck’s battery on occasion.” Spiral considered for a moment accepting yet more charity from the man. She’d already had to plead for help, and her pride was nearly as battered as her chassis. She mulled it over, but decided it’d be foolish not to take all the help she could get.

“I think that would help a lot,” Spiral forced herself to say the words. The human seemed more than happy to oblige, and the Autobot counted her lucky stars that Crowbar evidently did not give chase, otherwise she'd surely be long dead by now. She did her best to relax, hoping her prolonged absence wouldn’t make anyone back at base angry, unaware that their problems were far larger than she could’ve imagined.


*****


“E.G.A.D.S. won’t pick up,” Road Rage exclaimed, shouting over the torrential winds being kicked up by the Revenge’s descent. The ship was massive, easily ten times the size of the shuttlecraft that brought the Autobots. The mere act of entering the atmosphere at such a speed was wreaking havoc, and Optimus considered it lucky that between the later hours and weather the roads were virtually barren, but this couldn’t go on for much longer.

“I don’t mean to cause even more alarm,” Ruiner said, “but is anyone else the least bit terrified that this thing is coming for us? I find it utterly improbable that it would randomly land here on a planet this size.”

“You’re right,” Optimus said, “it’s here for us.”

“Can we lead it away from the city, then?” Road Rage asked, “maybe out into the country?”


“I think it’s too late for that!” Ironhide said, pointing at the ship that now loomed over practically the entire countryside. Many running lights began to illuminate the ground below, and one in particular shined brightest. A large light, seemingly like that of an opening, appeared on the ship’s underside. Optimus braced himself for whatever came next, feeling an awful sense of helplessness at a threat this large in scope.

“Now I’m wishing we actually did finish Big Blue,” Optimus lamented, but there was no time for what-ifs. He and the others made ready for whatever was about to come as something did indeed descend. A smaller, sleeker shuttlecraft made its way down, and even from a distance Optimus could make out the various protrusions of firearms. Perhaps the new threat sought to deactivate them with minimal resources, but as it gre closer it refrained from firing. It remained non-hostile right up until the landing, and Optimus counted his Sparkbeats as the agonizing wait commenced. Moments that felt like eons passed until the shuttle door hissed open, and a figure emerged. Then another, and then finally a third. The latter two were large, one more so than the other who was quite stout. They were grey and imposing, with a large hunch made of some kind of vehicle parts, while the other was coloured like sand and featured spikes along his back and very long arms. The first figure to emerge, however, was unmistakable. He was tall, lean, with a large cannon that fused into his right arm. His armour was silvery with hints of grey and a purplish blue. He seemed regal, threatening, and he was tall enough that even at a short distance away Optimus had to crane his neck up. Optimus’ fists remained clenched, his legs tensed and cramping from their eagerness to run, but he knew that if this was who it undoubtedly was, no force on earth besides them could possibly stop them.

“I am Galvatron,” the robot said with a surprisingly smooth yet commandingly deep voice. It sounded old, yet disarmingly gentle, not unlike Jetfire’s,” I am the leader of the Decepticons. To the Earthbound Autobot forces, I deliver a message: the war has at long last come to an end.” To Optimus’ shock, he extended his arm to the side and bowed with the other, “congratulations, you won.”

“I beg your pardon?” Optimus asked reflexively. The Decepticon leader rose from his bow with a hauntingly placid smile on his face.

“Exactly twelve megacycles ago I formally accepted an offer to surrender by Autobot Supreme Commander Sentinel Prime,” Galvatron explained. He seemed somewhat disarmed by Optimus’ reaction, “didn’t you hear the news?”

“Would you believe we’ve been-” Optimus cleared his throat abruptly to hide a voice crack, “out of contact with Cybertron?”

“Four the last month…” Ruiner muttered.

“Well, then I supposed my introduction was indeed warranted,” Galvatron said, turning to the taller of his two cohorts, “see, Blackout, it was worth it to be formal.”

“Thousand pardons, milord,” the hulking robot gave a courteous bow, then turned to his shorter compatriot, “shoulda known better meself, aye Bonecrusher?”

“That’s why you don’t do the thinking,” the stout warrior replied. “Lord Galvatron always knows what’s best, innit?”

“I hope you’ll forgive my forwardness given your abrupt arrival,” Optimsu said, very carefully choosing his words, “but why have you come to Earth?”

“Perhaps that would be best discussed in detail aboard my ship,” Galvatron held out a hand towards the shuttle. “I give you my word, however, that we do not come with ill intentions.”

“Can you give us anything better?” Ruiner asked, and immediately received a harsh glare from Optimus. Now was not the time to be speaking idly, but Galvatron merely laughed the comment off.

“You’re prudent,” Galvatron said, “regretfully, however, I don’t, I simply thought it’d be rude to invite myself into your own base of operations. After all, I am the interloper here.”

“You got that right,” Road Rage muttered to herself, but Optimus didn’t have a chance to nip that remark before Galvatron’s entourage returned to the shuttle. Without many options, Optimus decided it would be best to keep things cordial.

“Ruiner, you head back to base. Tell Botanica everything, and Spiral if she’s back yet,” Optimus ordered, lamenting the poor timing of her disappearance, “try and re-establish contact with command to confirm his story. Road Rage and Ironhide will come with me.”

“Oh goody,” Ironhide sighed, “I’ve always wanted to see inside of a Decepticon death vessel.”

“Faireborn Isn't gonna like this,” Road Rage said.

“To be fair, neither do I,” Optimus kept his voice low, “but if Galvatron’s telling the truth then, as crazy as it sounds, we have to at least give him a chance.”

“And if he’s not?” Ruiner asked. Optimus didn’t feel the need to answer the obvious, but internally he would rather keep a close eye on Galvatron. Ruiner accepted the silence and transformed, speeding down the highway as Road Rage and Ironhide followed Optimus onto the shuttle. It was spacious, no doubt a necessity given the Decepticons’ sizes, but nonetheless felt uncomfortably cramped. As the door to the craft slowly shut itself, Optimus couldn’t help but feel like it was closing around his neck. He hoped for all their sakes Galvatron was telling the truth, and silently prayed for Spiral’s speedy return.


*****


Spiral could slowly feel her batteries charging as the generator hummed away just outside, the energy gradually being distributed by her onboard systems to the necessary recovery zones. It wouldn’t mend the greater damage, but it would greatly reduce the pain and stabilize her injuries enough for her to begin repairs. Jumper cables snaked in from beneath the large garage door as Frank entered in from a smaller side entrance, removing his gloves and coat. Spiral found it infinitely endearing how humans reacted to the weather, dressing themselves up or down depending on the temperature, though she kept this commentary to herself.

“I got about six hours worth of gas in there,” Frank explained, hanging his coat up, “hope that’s enough.”

“It’s plenty,” Spiral said, “I’ll pay you back, somehow, I promise.”

“I can take cash or a cheque,” he chuckled, and Spiral looked away awkwardly.

“I don’t have any money,” she said, wondering just how she’d do it, “but I’m sure I can get some.”

“It was a joke,” Frank assured her. Spiral didn’t find it funny, she just felt even more humiliated. Either sensing her mood or perhaps noticing his comment upset her, Frank made a dismissive wave, “you don’t have to pay me. Like I said, glad to help a neighbor.” A somewhat awkward silence befell the garage as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I can leave you alone for a while if you want.”

“No, you’re fine,” Spiral said, “this is your house. I’m just not great at talking, that’s all.”

“Usually the ones who can’t talk,” he said, pulling up a stool, “are the ones who need to the most.”

“I’ve never been good at talking about myself,” Spiral admitted.

“Do you not have anyone who'll listen?” He asked, “Friends? Family?”

“I do,” she began, “I have a few friends. But we just never talk about… me. Usually we talk about someone else, or something else.” She tried to recall the last time such a conversation took place, but struggled to think of anything recent, “though I guess I haven’t been talking to anyone much lately.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Frank said.

“No, it’s alright,” Spiral nodded, “it was my decision.”

“I hope you don’t think this is rude of me,” Frank began, “but are you really an alien? I thought you were joking, but you talk like a real person.”

“I am,” Spiral said, not sure which descriptor she was referring to.

“And are all your people machines?” He asked again, “or is that just you?”

“My species is robotic, yes,” Spiral said, turning to one side to rest her head on her arm, “other alien races call us Transformers because, well, you can probably guess why.”

“Other aliens?” Frank’s eyebrows raised considerably as he exhaled with his hands in his lap. It seemed Spiral’s information was a lot for the silver-haired human to process.

“It’s a big universe,” Spiral chuckled a bit at his exasperation, “but if it makes you feel any better, life on other worlds isn’t all that common. It takes very specific conditions for planets to have life. Just the right distance from a star, right mass, right rotation. Of the countless galaxies and star systems, only a handful of species have made it to other planets. You’re still statistically in the cosmic minority just for meeting me. That’s kinda cool, right?”

“I guess,” he said. Frank reached behind himself for his coffee cup still sat on the workbench, and in doing so Spiral’s attention was drawn to the large covered object behind him.

“What’s that?” She pointed at the wheels visible underneath the grey tarp.

“That,” Frank said, seemingly elated by her question, “is my third most pride and joy.” He stood and walked over to the fabric cover and pulled it back with a single motion. Underneath was a dark blue car with white stripes. It was a muscle car, not too dissimilar from Ruiner, but more classic looking and without his ostentatious gold undertone and flame decals. “Nineteen sixty-seven Ford Mustang two eighty-nine. I’ve had this car since my father gave it to me almost forty years ago. Kept her maintained and pristine ever since.”

“Your father doesn’t need it anymore?” Spiral asked.

“He passed away,” Frank said, running his hand along the hood.

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” Spiral said solemnly.

“Don’t be,” Frank said, “it was a ways back, and he was never a man who feared death, not even when his heart went bad. He lived a good life and always made sure his family had everything. Hell, he built this house himself and it’s solid as a rock. Not those cheap, cookie-cutter shacks they put in the subdivisions.”

“Impressive,” Spiral said, “did he build the car, too?”

“No,” Frank chuckled, “he bought this, much to my mother’s chagrin. Granted she doesn’t get out much anymore, but keeping her fit is a hobby of mine. At least once every summer I take her out for a drive along the mountainside, usually with my daughters. My dad left it for me, and one day I’ll leave it for them.”

“Interesting,” Spiral appreciated the vehicle from her resting place. It was an impressive design, and from a cursory scan of its capabilities and form it was much better than her own vehicle mode. “I think it’s admirable that you provide for your family as your father did.”

“You make it sound so special,” Frank said, pulling the tarp back over to keep the vehicle protected, “all parents provide for their kids. You don’t have parents?”

“No,” Spiral said, “we’re built from a basic stage called protoforms, the process of which is long and complicated. We come online more or less fully developed, unlike humans.”

“So no awkward teenage years?” Frank said, “you’re lucky. Can’t say I wouldn’t have preferred that over having to deal with two teenage girls.” As if on cue Spiral noticed more movement at the door leading into the house, followed by sounds of shuffling.

“They’re certainly very curious,” she said, “can’t really blame them, I suppose.”

“Hopefully they can settle for just a peek,” Frank said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I mean...” Spiral weighed the ramifications of introducing herself to more humans. The Autobots didn’t exactly hide their presence, but they had an agreement with E.G.A.D.S. to limit and moderate interaction with humans, for the safety of both parties. As Marrisa Faireborn had once told them, humans can be extremely fearful of things they don’t understand, and extremely hateful of things they fear. That said, the cat was out of the bag, and two more humans seeing her shouldn’t be much of an issue. Footage of the Autobots was all over the internet already, and Spiral trusted Frank enough to trust his family, “if you’re alright with it, I can’t see the harm in a formal greeting. Just… no pictures, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Frank asked. He seemed especially sensitive of Spiral's privacy, perhaps because she was stuck in this situation, but she gave a nod all the same. He likewise gestured at the door, knowing full well the two girls could see them, and they entered. One was taller than the other, with light brown hair in a ponytail. The other was shorter, wearing a hoodie over darker hair, no doubt due to the cold leaking through the door crack. Frank introduced them, “this is Lisa, the oldest, and Jackie, my youngest. She’ll be sixteen in March.” The two gave timid waves, which Spiral reciprocated.

“Hello,” they said in unison.

“Hi, I’m Spiral,” she replied. They lit up at the sight of her, more so than Frank did. They didn’t seem very young, but there was something childlike in their reactions.

“This is incredible,” Lisa uttered. “You’re just… wow.”

“Are you really a robot?” Jackie asked, and Spiral gave a nod.

“Robot means something different where I come from,” Spiral admitted, “but yeah, that's pretty much the best way to describe me in your language.”

“Can I ask a favour?” Lisa asked, and Spiral nodded, “this is going to sound weird, but since you brought it up... can you speak a bit in your own language?”

“Uh, sure,” Spiral said, giving a glance to Frank. He smiled and shrugged, and so Spiral acquiesced. A digital cacophony of multiple frequencies emitted from her mouthplate as Spiral introduced herself in Cybertronian, much to the girls’ enjoyment.

“That’s so cool,” Jackie exclaimed, “you sound almost like a dial tone mixed with a deer call.”

“Thank you?” Spiral said.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” Frank chuckled, “not everyday you get to hear an alien language.”

“Actually, for me I kind of do,” Spiral said. “We usually speak English just out of habit, but for us learning a new language takes moments with a speech algorithm and enough data. I think it’s a bit more complicated for humans, though.”

“Just a bit,” Lisa laughed with her sister, still enamoured by Spiral’s presence. For reasons unknown, the innocuous comment made Spiral laugh. So abrupt was her chuckle that it seemed to startle the humans, though that quickly passed. She was about to apologize when the charge she was receiving suddenly stopped, and indeed the ambient hum of the generator disappeared.

“Damn,” Frank said, getting up to grab his coat, “it does this sometimes. It’s an old generator, just have to-” he was cut off by the lights suddenly going out, and soon only Spiral’s eyes gave any illumination in the near pitch black garage. Jackie made a fearful noise when it happened, but Lisa quickly calmed her.

“Does that usually happen?” Spiral asked.

“No,” Frank said, “we have a basement generator for the house. Just had it replaced two years ago. It's never done this before.” Spiral didn’t like that. The fact that the two generators went one after the other, as if some disabling force moved closer, made her coolant run hot.

“Mr. Mathews, please take your daughters to that basement,” Spiral said, sitting up on the flatbed to peer out the top window. It was practically pitch black as well outside, but it was also disturbingly quiet. Not even the wind seemed to move the trees surrounding the property, but Spiral could feel a mounting anxiety at the possibility that something was out there.

“Dad…” Jackie said timidly, and pointed to the smaller door that led outside. Through the window a slow moving shadow could be glimpsed. It undulated with a rhythm and grace, like a serpent, and Spiral knew exactly who had come for her.

 

Chapter Three

At the Heart of the Problem​

Optimus had only been on a Decepticon ship once, but it was nothing like this. From the exterior, clad in iridescent purple armour plating with its many points and bulbous sections like some kind of massive aquatic creature, he’d assumed the bowels of the massive capital ship would be just as threatening. He didn’t expect sterile white hallways, lavish interior design, and unobtrusive technology that made the Autobots’ own dwellings seem especially rustic. Even the chairs had compression panels for added comfort, and as Road Rage repeatedly demonstrated, adjustable functions.

“It says there’s a massage function,” she muttered to herself, tapping the buttons repeatedly, “but I don’t feel massaged.” Optimus didn’t pay her much mind, instead tapping his foot nervously as his hands couldn’t stay apart on the top of the hand-forged conference table.

“Relax, mate,” Ironhide whispered, “I’m starting to get the feeling Galvatron is on the level. After all, he had ample opportunity to take us out already. Instead he took us to the swankiest waiting room on this ship, and offered refreshments.”

“It’s the waiting,” Optimus said, shifting his posture to recline in the chair, “I’d be more at ease if we could just talk right now. If things were so hunky-dory, then why are we just sitting around?”

“Ironhide, check if your chair’s working,” Road Rage asked, still fussing with the buttons, “I think mine’s busted.”

“You have to hold it,” Galvatron said, entering from the main door at the end of the room, “the longer you do, the more intense the vibrations.” Optimus nearly felt like leaping from his seat when the Decepticon leader had entered, though he tried not to show it. Galvatron took his seat at the end of the table, a single chair away from Optimus. Road Rage heeded his advice, and sure enough after a moment she was sinking into the oscillations of her seat. Galvatron gestured towards the tray of Energon libations, and Optimus silently declined with a wave of his hand.

“Also,” Galvatron began, “this is actually the second swankiest waiting room. The one six levels above has an indoor fountain.” Ironhide looked at Optimus with surprise, but the Autobot leader didn’t respond, so Galvtron spoke again, “I’m sorry for the wait, but I wanted to be able to have more formal introductions in a more comfortable environment.” The Decepticon snapped his fingers, and soon the two enforcers they’d met before entered. They stood, hulking and imposingly, as though they were just waiting for the order to move. Blackout especially was so large even Jetfire would need to look up to meet him face-to-face. A third individual joined them, one Optimus did not recognize. He was dark and likewise robust in build, but had an air of sophistication the other two lacked. Optimus couldn’t help but feel this was some intimidation tactic.

“You’ve already met Bonecrusher and Blackout,” Galvatron introduced them. “These two represent my special forces. Very capable, if a bit modest in intellect.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Bonecrusher nodded.

“Ye,” Blackout said abruptly.

“Now Blackout,” Galvatron turned in his chair. His voice dropped an octave, and his tone became somewhat scolding, “remember your manners.”

“Oh, right,” the behemoth held a had to his face. He seemed to struggle to get the words out, “my condolences.”

“Close enough,” Galvatron said, glancing back to the Autobots with an earnest smile, “the broad fellow to their right is my advisor, High Counsilman Straxus. He was instrumental in brokering the peace we now enjoy.” Straxus said nothing, instead he merely bowed politely.

“Well,” Optimus said, trying not to give a reaction, “my name is Optimus. This is my bodyguard, Road Rage, and Ironhide, my chief of security.”

“Marvelous,” Galvatron said, and Optimus felt his patience wearing thin. He was almost about to speak up when Galvatron began again, “with that out of the way, I think it’s time we talk business.”

“Yes,” Optimus said, “I think it is. Taking you on your word, just why have you come to Earth?”

“Well, that’s very simple, if somewhat regrettable,” Galvatron clasped his hands together before him, “for the benefit of my people, and in the interest of putting an end to the tremendous loss of life our conflict has resulted in, I made the decision to surrender.” Galvatron’s tone was almost solemn, and Optimus felt a sincerity to it he hadn’t yet heard in his voice, “it was not easy, but if a new future is to be built, the past must be laid to rest.”

“I can agree with that,” Optimus said.

“Indeed,” Galvatron said, “however, our surrender did not absolve us of responsibility. One of the… conditions of our consignment was that we, unfortunately, must exile ourselves from our beloved home.”

“Wait,” Ironhide held up a hand, “the Decepticons are gone from Cybertron?” The three Autobots exchanged looks of disbelief, while Galvatron simply sighed in disappointment.

“It was not a decision made lightly,” he continued, “but if ever there was to be an armistice between peoples, sacrifices had to be made, and since the Decepticons were already scattered about the cosmos, it seemed the path of least resistance.”

“I’m sorry,” Optimus said, not entirely sure if he should be apologizing, “I’m not going to pass judgement on something I have no control over, nor comment on a decision I would never be able to make, but that doesn’t explain why you came here. I have a responsibility to this planet, and though it may sound harsh, I need to evaluate any potential threats.”

“It doesn’t sound harsh at all,” Galvatron seemed unfazed by Optimus’ prudishness, “simply put, I wish to establish a small colony here, on this beautiful planet, in order to secure a future for my Decepticons.”

“Well, that’s going to be difficult,” Optimus was taken aback by Galvatron’s words. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that, “as you can plainly see, this planet is populated. It’s not my decision if you can establish a colony here.”

“I understand completely,” Galvatron said reassuringly, “and I do not intend to cause undue tensions or impose in any way.”

“Then why choose Earth?” Road Raged asked as she stopped the vibrations of her chair, “there’s plenty of planets out there, wouldn’t it be better to go somewhere uninhabited?” Optimus didn’t object to her question.

“I can see how that may make sense,” Galvatron said, “however I have to do what’s best for my people. Habitable planets are rare. ‘The Golden Zone’ of worlds not too far from a star, not too close, and just the right size. I can’t condemn my people to live on a desolate ice ball, or on a roasting orb. Resilient as we may be, even our race deserves comfort and stability.”

“I can understand that,” Optimus said, “however my bodyguard raises a good point, why this planet?”

“Simple,” Galvatron smiled again, “because of you. With an established liaison between races, it is my hope that a mutual understanding can be reached. Our war has left our race… unpopular, and it is my hope that with good relations already established, a colonization effort can be smoother and more beneficial to all involved parties. It would also help mend the image of my people with the Autobots.”

“If I could just have a moment,” Optimus asked, and Galvatron nodded. Optimus keyed his internal communicator to discuss privately with Ironhide and Road Rage; “any hot takes on this story?”

“Only that if it is true,” Road Rage said, “it’s pretty damn presumptuous. I like how he avoids mentioning how he’s the reason Decepticons are ‘unpopular.’ I can’t imagine E.G.A.D.S. buying it either.”

“All I can add is that we’ve trusted Decepticons before,” Ironhide said, clenching his fist, “and look how that turned out. Megatron wasn’t even the head honcho and he caused us all sorts of grief, and Soundwave… even when you think you can trust a ‘Con, they backstab like a human draws breath.”

“I’m glad you both feel that way,” Optimus said, “because now I don’t feel bad at all saying this is totally bogus. But the problem is just how we go about turning him down. It’ll be easy to say the humans won’t cooperate, at least I sure hope they wouldn’t, but what if he refuses?” Optimus didn’t get and answer, not that they’d have one. He considered his options, “Still no word from E.G.A.D.S.?”

“No,” Road Rage said, “but Botanica got through. Spiral’s still not back but there’s a communication blackout. She thinks the EM field of the ship’s anti-gravity engines is the culprit, also why the satellites went dark.”

“I’m sure Galvatron would say that was an accident,” Ironhide said.

“We’ll ask him, politely, to go into orbit around the moon,” Optimus said, “close enough to stay in touch of course, then when communication’s back we’ll get Marrisa in on this. I’m sure she’ll have some ideas on how to break it to him easily.”

“And if he does refuse to leave like you said?” Road Rage asked.

“We get Autobot high command on the phone,” Optimus said, “and call in the big guns. I’m not turning Earth into a battlefield again.” The three nodded to each other and Optimus cancelled the connection, speaking through his mouth once more. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Of course,” Galvatron said, “it’s not a decision I’d expect you to make lightly. You no doubt have to consult with humanity’s leadership, so as a show of good faith I’ll take The Revenge up into orbit around this world’s moon. I understand my hasty and negligent descent has caused communication troubles.” Optimus’ eyes widened as he exchanged worried glances with his friends, but Galvatron merely turned to his waiting entourage, “Bonecrusher, if you’d be so kind as to escort the Autobots back to the surface. Take the luxury shuttle.”

“Of course, melord,” Bonecrusher bowed as well as his wide body could. He lumbered on awkward clawed feet towards the exit, and the Autobots followed. The Decepticon said little save for cordial directions as they retraced the route they took back to the shuttle bay. A short but comfortable flight later and they were deposited on the same street they’d encountered Galvatron on, and the shuttle returned as The Revenge began to ascend. The Autobots turned on their lights so they could see each other in the darkness, and Optimus expressed his concerns.

“Do you think he heard everything we said?” He asked, “closed comms are secure, right?”

“I encrypted them myself,” Ironhide said, “well, with Botanica’s help, but there’s still no way he cracked it without us noticing.”

“Speaking of, I just got an encrypted data packet from her,” Road Rage said, “E.G.A.D.S. wants to know what’s up, still no Spiral. She’ll do a short-wave area scan using our drones to try and find her energy signature.”

“She picked a fine time to have a tantrum,” Optimus rubbed his face. Of course it was just as much his fault as hers, as he was the one who let her go, but then neither of them could have expected this. He sighed breathlessly, “let’s roll, Autobots, I have a sinking sensation this is only going to get worse.” The three transformed and made their way back to headquarters, and Optimus prayed to anyone listening that he was wrong.


*****


“Get downstairs, now,” Spiral instructed the humans in the softest tone she could reach, “move as fast as you can, but stay quiet.”

“What about you?” Frank whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, “he’s here for me, and I don’t think he’s the kind to leave empty-handed.”

“He?” Frank asked, his eyes glued to the shadows slithering through the windows, “who’s doing this? What does he want from you?”

“Just go!” Spiral hissed, and the humans quickly made their way out of the garage. Spiral knew she had to either lead Crowbar away or take him out, lest he try and harm the humans. If Spiral warranted termination, she had no doubt he’d take out human witnesses as well. The garage fell deathly silent, with the tendrils slowly sinking out of view of the windows. Spiral dimmed her eyes to remove the possibility of the light being seen, and she felt the beats of her Spark slamming against her chest. The silence was haunting, deafening, until an even more horrible sound came from above. Creaking, slow and methodical, across the roof. He was on top of the house, and Spiral turned to look through the garage door only to see Lisa frozen in place.

“Lisa-” Spiral whispered, but the girl did not respond, and Spiral soon saw why. One of the tendrils, tipped with a jagged looking razor-sharp edge, slowly snaked its way through the living room, mere inches from the human’s face. With every carbon fiber of her being, Spiral carefully raised herself off the flat bed, careful not to make a sound. She lowered herself gingerly onto all fours and crawled, slowly, towards the door. Spiral had once needed to navigate a concussion mine field under static wire, and she could not help but find the experience similar to this. She carefully reached out to the petrified woman, and gently wrapped her fingers around her midsection, slowly raising her off her feet and closer towards Spiral. The basement door was on the opposite side of the tentacle, but if Spiral could just get Lisa out of harm's way, it might continue “feeling” and move on. Spiral almost had her back into the garage when her arm bumped against the door frame. It wasn’t much of a noise, but in the dead silence it might as well have been a beacon, and immediately two tendrils ripped through the ceiling and into Spiral’s back. Lisa screamed in terror, Spiral screamed in pain, and she dropped the human who quickly scampered into the basement as the previous tentacle converged on her. Spiral managed to grab it with the last of her strength, but the two others dug into her back, tearing at her insides. More enraged than in pain, Spiral rolled onto her back, pinning the two tendrils and releasing the other. It began swiping at her, narrowing missing her face, as she grabbed the other two in an attempt to free herself. Instead she was dragged from the garage and into the living room, the tentacles tearing through the ceiling as she was mercilessly manipulated. Spiral was dazed, losing power, and couldn’t fight back. Crowbar was too strong, too vicious, and she was out of options. She felt guilt and regret deep inside, that she left without telling anyone where she was, without even saying goodbye, and most of all that she got innocent humans involved. Humans who had shown her kindness, a complete alien in every sense of the word, and yet felt so close to herself, were now going to die.

“Not…” Spiral groaned as she grabbed the tendrils again, “if I can help it!” She grabbed hold of the snake-like appendages buried within her and pulled, with all her might, until they began to tear. With a scream of anger and exertion Spiral ripped the two tentacles apart, and she heard a howling from above as the ends sparked and whipped about wildly. Spiral got to her knees, slowly and shakily, heaving from the pain and damage. Her diagnostics recommended immediate stasis, but she wasn’t done yet, she couldn’t stop fighting just yet. Suddenly the ceiling collapsed, and a very angry Crowbar landed before her.

“Now you’ve made me mad!” He bellowed, and struck Spiral across the chest with his claws. Her armour shredded, but she didn’t care, and swung a punch of her own into his face. It hit hard, but as he slowly turned his head from the blow his eyes only glowed in anger. With a powerful smack he slammed Spiral into the floor and she fell into the basement, Frank and his daughters narrowly avoiding the debris as they cowered in the corner.

“More witnesses,” Crowbar sneered as he loomed above, “how irresponsible of you. If you’d just died like a good little Autobot none of this would have happened,” his two remaining tendrils arched behind him, poised to strike, and Spiral looked for anything that could possibly save her when she noticed the generator. It was a long shot, and she needed a distraction, but she didn’t get her chance before another tendril speared her through the shoulder. She tried to get it out, but she was all out of strength, and it all seemed lost until a bang went off behind her. Crowbar flinched as something hit him in the face, and Spiral looked up to see Frank and Lisa holding hunting rifles. They took aim and fired again, striking Crowbar once more to minimum effect.

“Go to hell you ugly son of a bitch!” Frank shouted as he and his daughter unloaded more rounds into the Decepticon. Crowbar was unfazed, but annoyed, and held aloft his final tentacle, poised to skewer the humans. Spiral reached for the generator next to her and hit the manual restart, and prayed whatever disabled it before didn’t permanently do so. It turned back on, and some of the lights came back as well, which drew Crowbar’s attention. He lashed out at Spiral once more, but she had already pulled his first tentacle free and plunged it into the generator before letting go. Arcs of electricity shot up the tendril back to its host, and Crowbar reeled from the surge as Spiral dove in front of the humans to protect them. The Decepticon stumbled and tripped, falling into the basement with them as Spiral hurried the humans upstairs, only to hear a hideous and foreboding sound coming from behind her.

“Fool,” Crowbar chuckled as he stood up, “as if a power surge that pathetic could do more than tickle-” an explosion knocked Crowbar off his feet before he could finish his words. Spiral, partially shielded by the Decepticon, was thrown into the stairwell, and the whole house shook as the force set fire and smoke upwards with enough force to knock Crowbar back up to ground level. The Autobot found herself wedged in the turn of the stairs, and struggled to drag herself up the steps where she saw the extent of the damage. The hole had been enlarged, with half the house destroyed, and it was virtually impossible to see anything in the dust and darkness.

“Mr. Mathews!” Spiral called out, “Lisa! Jackie!” She couldn’t find the humans anywhere, there was too much debris and smoke. Spiral waved her hands around to clear the air, but it was useless. She tried to think how much time there was between when they ran and when the generator blew, and frantically dug around the wreckage, hoping to find them alive. She looked through the door leading into the garage and shambled through. Spiral saw feet from behind the tarp covering Frank’s Mustang, and looked behind it. All three were huddled together in the small space between the car and the wall. Jackie was in tears, and all of them trembled, but Frank looked up at Spiral and nodded, and she felt unimaginable relief.

“Thank Primus,” she sighed, relaxing for a moment. All that mattered was that they were alive, and suddenly Spiral felt an odd serenity. The horrible depths to which she had sunk in the moments she thought she’d lost them, and the subsequent elation when she hadn’t, was unlike anything she really had felt.

“Look out!” Frank suddenly shouted, but it was too late. Crowbar grabbed Spiral and threw her from the house, into the snowy yard. He lumbered from the wreckage, smoking and damaged, but very much alive, and very angry.

“All the Nucleon in the world isn’t worth this!” He snarled, “you’ve really ruined my mood, not to mention my hairstyle.”

“That… the best…” Spiral struggled to stand, “you got? Or do you just look a lot tougher than you are?”

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Crowbar said, his fingers twitching in anticipation. “I haven’t offlined an Autobot in some mega cycles. I think after all my hard work I deserve a treat, no?”

“Fair warning…” Spiral barely managed to get on both feet, fists raised as she swayed back and forth, “I’m gonna make you work even harder for it.”

“Please,” Crowbar rolled his eyes, “I can see the forest through your wounds. You have more holes in you than that human defense network, and you’ve been fighting for a while now. Do you even have anything left?”

“I have my fists,” she said, “my bitch attitude, and some of the best friends on this entire planet.” Crowbar raised an eyebrow at the last comment until the bullets tore into his back. He screamed and fell onto all fours, trails of smoke wafting into the frigid air as Ruiner kept his weapon pods aimed directly at the Decepticon.

“Do us all a favour,” Ruiner said, “spare us all the sight of your ugly mug and stay down.”

“My signal jammer-?” Crowbar said in disbelief.

“Worked perfectly,” Ruiner explained, “but it doesn’t jam the sound of an explosion, or a trail of smoke backlit by moonlight.” He kicked Crowbar over and gave him a solid hit to the face, and the Decepticon finally stopped moving. He quickly jogged over to Spiral, kneeling next to her.

“The Mathews,” Spiral waved him off, “make sure they’re alright… the garage.”

“We’re fine,” Frank’s voice came from the garage door. The three stood huddled together, shivering from cold and trauma. Ruiner looked around awkwardly and stepped towards the wreckage. He sifted through the half-destroyed rooms until he found a blanket large enough for all three, and after giving it a quick pat to get the dust off, carefully wrapped them in it.

“Help’s coming,” he tried to assure them, “emergency services and some very special agents will be here soon, so just try and stay calm. Anybody hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Frank said, “just some cruises and scratches.” Spiral limped over to them, feeling a mix of shame and guilt. She watched as Frank looked at his destroyed home, and Lisa began to comfort Jackie as she wept.

“I’m so sorry,” Spiral said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Forty years, gone,” he said solemnly. He held his daughters closer as he nodded, “but we’re alive. That’s more important than brick and wood.”

“I will repay you,” Spiral said, “I have friends who can rebuild your home, replace all that was lost.”

“Friends?” Jackie said, her tears stopping somewhat as she looked to Ruiner, “like him?”

“God, I hope not,” he said, crouching down to their level, “the better bewilderment bureau known as E.G.A.D.S. will make sure you and your family are well taken care of, just as soon as we clear up a tiny intergalactic incident.”

“What do you mean?” Spiral asked.

“Oh, right,” Ruiner turned to look up at her, “the whole reason I came looking for you was because a certain Decepticon capital ship touched down on the other side of the county right after you left. Ever heard of The Revenge?”

“You’re joking?” Spiral asked.

“I’m serious,” he said, “Galvatron himself apparently tried to feed blue boy some diplomatic crud about peaceful co-existence, and now we just so happen to find a ‘Con literally in our backyard.”

“Which reminds me,” Spiral turned to look at Crowbar’s prone form, “what to do.. With…” but there was nothing there. Snowfall was already hard at work covering up the imprint of his body, ragged tracks disappearing into the woods.

“Squirly little bastard, ain’t he?” Ruiner stood, “I’ll track him down, finish him off.”

“No,” Spiral said, clutching her wounds as they began to spark again. She almost fell when Ruiner caught her arm, but she stubbornly pulled away. She didn’t like people seeing her injured. “If what you said is true, something much bigger is going on here. I thought he was just using a turn of phrase, but Crowbar said something odd. He mentioned Nucleon.”

“The super fuel?” Ruiner tapped a finger against his chin, “I’ve heard of it. Doesn’t it make you super fast and strong? Or am I thinking of Forestonite?”

“I don’t know,” Spiral said. She’d heard of Nucleon, but not enough to know what it meant, “but Sprouts probably will. She’s a scientist, after all.”

“Oooh, don’t say that to her face,” Ruiner held up his hands, “she hates it when you treat all fields of science as interchangeable. But you’re right, she probably does know.” Spiral turned to look over to the road leading towards the house, and saw several sets of headlights heading their way. She turned to limp away back to base when Ruiner stopped her.

“I’m fine,” she said preemptively.

“Don’t be stupid,” Ruiner whispered. “Let me look at those wounds. I’m no medi-bot but I can tell when someone’s barely holding together. You don’t even have any tires left! Are you going to limp all the way home?” Spiral said nothing, she merely kept dragging one leg behind her as she started again down the driveway, Ruiner keeping pace next to her, “Let the human agents give you a lift at least.”

“I’ve caused humanity enough grief for one night,” Spiral said as she continued past the oncoming government vehicles. Ruiner wasn’t sure what to say to that, looking back at the destroyed house as firefighters and paramedics tended to the Mathews. Without even saying goodbye to the humans whose lives she nearly destroyed, Spiral left. Ruiner, unable to say or do anything to make things better, simply shrugged, then followed along behind her on foot.

 

I am liking that we don't know how much Galvatron is saying is true or not. He is acting peaceably, though we can guess there is more to it. But we still don't know how much of it is a lie and how much might be true. Is the war even really over? Did the Autobots actually agree to sign Earth off to them? Or is the war ongoing and this is some play to make Optimus and the others docile. I also like that we don't know how much Galvatron knows of the Autobots' own private discussions, or if he is just that intuitive. Still digging it.

 

Chapter Four

Interested Parties​

“That’s about the size of it,” Optimus shrugged. “Galvatron wants to establish a ‘peaceful’ colony on Earth.” He placed his hands on his hips as Marissa Faireborn likewise crossed her arms, processing the information.

“How very nice for him,” she said with sarcasm.

“That’s what I thought,” Optimus said, “I can’t say with certainty he’s lying, at least not until we re-establish contact with our homeworld, but it does seem too good to be true.”

“Does it, though?” Road Rage asked from the sofa, twirling a chunk of concrete ripped from its corner in her hand, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe him for a second, but that’s a pretty big ask for someone who was our sworn enemy just last week.”

“It’s almost believable,” Botanica said, “in the sense that only a Decepticon would be so arrogant as to make such demands of a neutral world.”

“Barely neutral at that,” Marissa said, “I can’t exactly speak for the summit, but I can’t imagine many governments allowing an alien warlord into our backyard with open arms. Some, however, might be tempted by the promise of their… let’s just say, advancements in technology.”

“Which begs the question,” Ironhide leaned up against the wall, cracking his knuckles in a nervous tick, “what happens if we say no? All out war? Nukes? Humans only have so many methods for dealing with problems that won’t go away.”

“I won’t let it come to that,” Marissa signaled to someone off camera. Suddenly a list appeared next to her, “these are the countries willing to open a dialogue with Galvatron and his… Decepticons.”

“It’s a pretty awful-sounding name, isn’t it?” Optimus said, noting the look of discomfort on her face.

“It doesn’t inspire confidence,” Marissa, “this Galvatron could use a new PR guy.”

“Trust us,” Road Rage said, angrily hucking the wad of cement into the trash bin across the room, “it’s well-deserved.”

“Regardless, this is a sensitive issue,” Marissa continued, “and it seems not everybody wants to give him a hard ‘no.’ Does that mean they’ll entertain his proposition?” Marissa sighed, adjusting a loose strand of hair out of her slight as she contemplated her words, “I can’t say, but we’re working with various international agencies who are demanding we disclose more information. Galvatron isn’t quite as subtle as you are, and the world is going crazy after his ship just appeared. Some even thought an invasion had already begun.”

“No,” Optimus resisted the urge to say ‘not yet.’ He didn’t blame the humans for what they didn’t know, and relations were tenuous as it was. Optimus had to think of a way to see Galvatron’s hand without starting a war.

“Hold on a moment,” Marissa said, glancing out of frame. Her expression became stern, and she looked back to Optimus, “an emergency summit is being held. They want to hear what Galvatron has to say.”

“Idiots,” Road Rage stood up quickly, “you can’t let this happen! What if Galvatron attacks the summit?”

“Not to worry,” Marissa held up a hand, “it’s all being handled electronically. The date and time is being established, and…” Marissa glanced aside again as new information came in, “oh.”

“Let me guess,” Optimus said, his tone dropping considerably, “they want me to attend?”

“They’re demanding it, actually,” Marissa said.

“That’s good, though, right?” Ironhide asked. “That means you can make your case against Galvatron, yeah?”

“Or more likely he’ll be put on blast,” Marissa said bluntly, “I know exactly what they’ll say; they’ll ask why we should trust individuals who operated in secret instead of Galvatron who was willing to open relations from the start.”

“It’ll be a tough sell,” Optimus said, “considering how limited Autobot protocols are for disclosing information. Limits Galvatron doesn’t have. He can sweeten the deal in ways we can’t.”

“That’s not all he can do,” a voice came from behind Optimus. He turned to see Spiral and Ruiner stood in the doorway, and his elation at her return quickly turned to concern over her damaged state.

“Spiral!” Ironhide said, just as shocked, “what happened?”

“A Decepticon happened,” she limped into the room, “a pretty boy named Crowbar gave me a night to remember after I caught him breaking into some secure… facility or something in the industrial district.”

“Come and sit down,” Road Rage rushed over to her, and Spiral reluctantly agreed, “jeez, you’re leaking everywhere.”

“I’m fine,” Spiral insisted even as she was led to the sofa by her friends, “but whatever Crowbar was after he got. The place was already busted open when I happened to find it, my guess is I caught him making his escape, and I just happened to pick up a radiation spike. Probably from one of his jammers he loves so much. I doubt he left a trail.”

“This facility,” Marissa asked, “where was it?”

“Industrial zone, on Doner street I think,” Spiral said, “unmarked office building with a loading bay in back and minimal security.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell,” Marissa motioned to other agents in the background who seemingly began entering the location into their computers, “I’ll have agents head over there, see what’s up.”

“Wait, this doesn’t make sense,” Optimus shook his head, “when were you attacked?”

“About six o’clock-ish?” Spiral said. “It was already dark, I know that.”

“That’s before The Revenge made planetfall,” Botanical said.

“But after our communications went down,” Optimus said. “Did this Crowbar mention Galvatron at all?

“No,” Spiral grunted as Botanica inspected her injuries. Her slender, needle-like fingers opened up into fine tools with which to begin repairing the damage. Spiral spoke through the discomfort, “but he did mention Nucleon.”

“The theoretical super fuel,” Botanica reflexively explained even while she worked, “believed to be the result of cosmic fission, it’s only been theorized as a result of its ‘emissions’ found in the vacuum of space, often in the aftermath of planetary systems where the star went supernova.”

“He said that our battle ‘wasn’t worth all the Nucleon in the world,’” Spiral said.

“Seems as though it was merely a colloquialism,” Botanica remarked, “albeit an awfully obscure one.”

“I’m more concerned about the time frame,” Optimus touched his knuckle to his chin, “if this Crowbar guy was already on Earth, Galvatron’s dramatic arrival may have just been misdirection. Distract us with a grand entrance while his goon does the dirty work.”

“And our communications just conveniently went down,” Road Rage said, “by ‘accident’ no less, and now we have to wait who knows how long until we can call Cybertron back.”

“Another twenty-two hours,” Botanica said, “our timing was poor. Until the tachyon relay beacons are back in suitable alignment-” Botanica said, pausing momentarily with Spiral’s repairs to think, “although if we had a Transwarp signal jumper we could call at any time.”

“What’s that?” Marissa asked.

“Think of it as fiber-optic instead of dial-up,” Optimus explained, “tachyon transmissions use relays that bounce a signal faster than light from here to Cybertron, but it depends on the relays being in perfect alignment, to get around various celestial bodies. Transwarp uses warped space to punch a straight line, regardless of obstacles.”

“I didn’t think we were allowed to disclose that,” Ironhide said.

“I’m not concerned about disclosure protocols right now,” Optimus turned back to Marissa on the display. “Can you delay the summit that long?”

“I can try,” Marissa said, “but they’re in a hurry to get this conversation started.”

“Then we have no choice,” Optimus said, “we have to get answers before then. Delay the summit for as long as possible, Miss Faireborn. You have my private comm channel?”

“Linked to my personal devices,” Marissa said, “though you stressed it was just for emergencies.”

“Exactly,” Optimus nodded to Ironhide who stood at the communications station, “we’ll keep in touch.” The feed abruptly cut out, and Optimus turned back to his Autobots.

“So what’s the plan?” Road Rage asked.

“Botanica,” Optimus turned to her as she finished patching Spiral up, “would it be possible to make our own Transwarp signal jumper from our shuttle’s drive?”

“If I had six months, possibly,” she said. “As always you grossly overestimate my technical abilities.”

“Just exploring every avenue,” Optimus held up his hand defensively, “because the alternative is not going to be ideal.”

“Oh no,” Ruiner pointed to Optimus, “you’re not thinking what I’m thinking, are you?”

“I think?” Optimus said, then put his hands on his hips, “we need to contact Cybertron before that summit. Galvatron wants something and we need to know what.” Optimus pointed to Road Rage and Ironhide, “you two are going to follow up on Crowbar. Work with E.G.A.D.S. and find out just what he was looking for.”

“I’m going, too,” Spiral said, “I just need fresh tires and a wheel alignment.”

“No, you need a full body diagnostic,” Botanica said, “I’ve merely patched your wounds and stabilized your circuitry. Your body is still severely damaged.”

“Sorry, Spiral, but she’s right,” Optimus said, “you’re in no condition to go out. Besides, I need you here,” Optimus nodded to Ruiner, then to Botanica, “the rest of us are going on to Galvatron’s ship. We need a TSJ, and if The Revenge has an indoor fountain, it’s gotta have one of those.” The Autobots took pause, exchanging concerned and confused looks. The Revenge was a ship told in stories and warnings. It was the mobile capital of Decepticon sovereignty.

“And just how exactly do you plan to get access to this wonderful thing?” Ruiner asked, “the Transwarp jumper, not the fountain.”

“Why, I’m going to do what all good Autobots, and Canadians, do,” Optimus smiled, “I’m going to ask politely.”


*****


“I’m telling you, it’s clean,” the technician said, showing Road Rage the computer readout, “I can’t find any trace of tampering, or even recent access.” He shrugged, putting his laptop down as Road Rage rapped her fingers against her face as she rested her jaw in her hand. They’d spent nearly two hours doing data checks with the human agents of E.G.A.D.S. and the finest cyber-sleuths on the continent, trying to find what Crowbar was after. The building was a data management firm as well as a server hub, and Road Rage expected something pretty important to be stored there, however the most interesting information was bank records and market research. The vast majority was record storage and research logs for mundane things like geographical studies and weather statistics. Utterly pedestrian things that even human thieves wouldn’t care about, let alone Decepticons. Crowbar had definitely broken in and accessed the servers, but he’d left no trace. It was as if he didn’t even make contact with the system, query logs, or anything to give a clue what he might have searched for, if he even did.

“There can’t be nothing,” she insisted, shifting uncomfortably on her crouched legs. How Crowbar even managed to reach the main server room was a mystery when even Road Rage’s small size barely got her halfway in through the loading bay.

“Need a hand in there?” Ironhide asked from outside, “because it’s getting pretty boring out here.”

“You said your friend caught him in the act,” the technician said to Road Rage, “I mean, yeah he made contact with the system, but maybe he didn’t get a chance to search at all?”

“A Cybertronian can sweep a dozen systems like this one in the blink of an eye,” she explained, “all Crowbar would’ve had to do was link his processor with the server and everything would be accessible in an instant. Hell, even I could…” Road Rage pondered for a moment, then turned to the technician, “what was your name again?”

“Andrew,” he said, looking a bit dejected that she’d forgotten it.

“Andrew,” she nodded, “I’m going to need you to do something for me: I’m going to run my own system sweep, and I need you to monitor and record it.”

“I already told you,” Andrew insisted, “there’s no record of a query! We can’t find any history of what was searched!”

“I know!” Road Rage snapped back, “but I think Crowbar may have left something else behind. Something on purpose. He would’ve anticipated we’d look for any trace he left, but what we should be looking for is what isn’t traceable.” Andrew looked at her with confusion, but Road Rage knew it was their only chance. She extended her finger towards his laptop, a small USB jack emerging from the end. She plugged in and began configuring her higher processor to the system, and displayed her digital signature on the screen.

“Wait,” Andrew said, “I’m not sure we’re allowed to do this. E.G.A.D.S. was insistent that we not let you interface with the mainframe.”

“It takes a Cybertronian to catch a Cybertronian,” Road Raged winked at the man, “all I need you to do is watch for that signature I showed you to ping back. Can your human technology do that?”

“Of course, but…” Andrew’s eyes widened as he finally gleaned Road Rage’s plan, and the two began to smile at each other, “I get it now! I mean, it’s a long shot, but if I was going to cover my tracks-“

“What are you two going on about?” Ironhide shouted from outside, “did you find anything or not?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Road Rage said, “alright, Andy, get ready for a whole whack of information.”

“Hope I don’t get in trouble for this,” the human gave a thumbs up regardless, and Road Rage logged into the system to begin searching the entire database. Every connected server and network flooded through her processor, an entire building’s worth of information flew through her mind, all the while Andrew kept a close eye on his laptop. A moment later Road Rage was done, and she disconnected from the computer.

“Huh,” she said, still feeling a slight buzz, “so that’s how hedge funds work. How arbitrary.”

“I don’t believe it,” Andrew said after a moment of scrolling, “it worked, look!” He turned the laptop towards her. Every single query Road Rage made appeared in a long list, with timing logs next to every single one, in her own digital handwriting, with only two exceptions.

“Did you win?” Ironhide shouted in.

“We hit the jackpot,” Road Rage said, “Crowbar covered his tracks too well. He used some kind of worm to automatically erase logs of any data inquiries he made.”

“You found a worm?” He asked, poking his head in through the loading bay door.

“Technically no,” Andrew said, “it's dug in too deep somewhere, but we found it’s handiwork. Miss Rage’s signature was apparently close enough that the worm automatically wiped her logs, thinking it was Crowbar’s, but only for two servers in particular.”

“Rookie mistake for such a careful guy,” Road Rage shook her head.

“And what exactly were these hidden items?” Ironhide asked, resting his chin on the door frame.

“Government geological surveys,” Andrew said, scrolling through each file so Road Rage could see it. “Looks like fault line maps, drilling projects, lots of information on tectonic movement. All stuff to do with deep underground research, all classified.” Andrew's tone fell low, “I really hope I don't get fired for this.”

“That’s…” Road Rage crossed her arms, “really weird. What's so secretive about a bunch of geological surveys? And why would Crowbar want it? Are the Decepticons going to dig a really big hole somewhere?”

“I don’t know,” Ironhide pulled his head out of the door, “but if the Decepticons want to do it, you can bet it’s not for scientific reasons.”

 

Fun! Gawd damn you can write! I think I seriously have a new TF series.

I haven't read your earlier stuff, that's about to change. Reading this was so effortless and a complete rollercoaster ride. There is mystery, drama, action and the characters are likable, relatable and intriguing. To top it off I got to discover all the designs and bios you'd made, but I checked them out after I read this and it lined up so well with the vibes I was getting.

I'm hooked man, I wish the official stories we've been getting got it like you do.

 

Oh God please no. I don't consider myself a great writer, but my early stuff is brutal. I mean, I started this series ten years ago, and my writing sensibilities and my understanding of plot, characters, and narrative structure have greatly changed. (IMO, they've improved, but that's not really my judgement to make)

As for the rest of your comment, that is really high praise and I definitely appreciate it. Thank you so much! I'm glad you like my stories and get a consistent vibe across the characters and bios, as that is the key element I work towards. A good story should always feel consistent in tone, even if the quality isn't. (which mine certainly isn't  )

 

I'd already started Ruined by the time I read your reply and I find that to be very strong too. I'm up to Jetfire's disturbing moment watching an old flick. Don't be so modest, you're clearly a smart guy and def have talent for story telling, you're popular and respected on this site for a reason. Why not have a link in your signature? Something like this could be enjoyed by many I think.
The only quality issue I see is the odd spell correct issue but it's only rare and it's never a problem because you can figure out what you meant to write due to context. It's pretty funny actually because in your story Ironhide makes a meta joke about getting an editor.

 

I'm still fighting that battle.   I used to turn AC off because it would often try and turn names and made-up words into real ones, (Optimus became Optimism, etc) but now it's picking up on my frequent misspellings, like "Iornhide," and thinking it's the real word so I don't get a handy underline to tell me when I made a gaff. If I catch them before I post them here I fix them, but afterwards it feels dishonest to make corrections like I'm hiding my mistakes. (and the board software narcs on you if you make edits after five minutes  )

But anyway:


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Five
Means to an End​

The Autobot base had fallen into an eerie silence. Optimus had left with Ruiner and Botanica to be taken onto The Revenge, while Road Rage and Ironhide were off following the lead that Spiral, by every right, deserved to follow on. Instead she was alone, at base, waiting for information while she continued to repair herself. She thought about what had happened the night before, the humans she’d met and nearly gotten killed, and how she had nearly died herself. Optimus was right, she couldn’t do much in her state, but sitting at home was causing Spiral to reflect on things she didn’t want to reflect on.

“Where is everybody?” A weary voice came from the far side of the main room. Spiral looked up to see Jetfire, hunched next to the drop down that led to his chamber, his red eyes darting from corner to corner of the room.

“They’re out,” Spiral said, turning back to her repairs.

“I would like to watch the television,” Jetfire said, “my stories will be on soon.”

“Sorry, you can’t use this T.V.,” Spiral explained, “I need to keep it open in case somebody calls.”

“Oh,” Jetfire looked down dejectedly. He placed his cane on the edge of the floor, lowering himself down on trembling legs. Spiral looked at him with confusion.

“You have a T.V. in your room,” she said, “why don’t you go watch in there?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Jetfire said, and Spiral suddenly felt inexplicably guilty. He looked at her, his eyes a dichotomous shade of threatening red despite their soft, withered gaze. He scratched the loose segments of metal that comprised his beard, bits of rust trickling down as he tilted his head quizzically, “do I know you?”

“You-” Spiral began, then pondered the question. She sighed and turned back to her repairs, “no, you don’t know me.”

“I’m Jetfire,” he said, and reached out his hand to shake. Spiral was on the opposite side of the room, but Jetfire kept his hand outstretched even as it began to tremble, and she begrudgingly got up. She limped over to shake, and the old robot seemed happy, “pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Spiral,” she said, and made her way back to where her tools were. She sat down and went back to work, Jetfire watching intently.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“No,” she said, “just need a few adjustments.”

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Would you like help?” Jetfire asked again, and Spiral felt her patience being tested, only to realize what he was actually asking. She looked back at the old soldier, his gaze suddenly gleaning with understanding, “we have met, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” Spiral admitted.

“But I forgot,” he nodded, “because I forget sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Spiral said, “we didn’t really know each other.”

“But we live together,” he said, “it’s rude of me to forget someone I must see every day.”

“I’m not too memorable,” she said, her gaze falling down to the tools in her hands, “I spend a lot of time alone.”

“But we have so many friends,” Jetfire said, “I think. I remember them, but sometimes details are fuzzy. There’s a young lass who helps me when I’m feeling lost, and the blue fella with the friendly face, and the large lad with the scar. There’s more, I know, but sometimes faces are hard to see in my head. Lots of people help me.” Spiral clutched the tools in her hands, feeling a pang of guilt as she turned to look him in the eyes.

“How do you do it?” She asked, “you were a proud, capable warrior once, and now you need help just getting up steps. Doesn’t it… doesn’t it hurt, needing help?”

“Is it supposed to?” Jetfire asked, seemingly in earnest. Spiral wasn’t sure how to answer. Jetfire leaned on one arm, the sound of ancient joints grinding and sighing as he relaxed, “I feel a lot of pain, in my body and in my mind, but people… being around others makes it feel better.”

“I wish I could feel that way,” Spiral muttered.

“I spent a thousand years alone,” Jetfire said, and suddenly Spiral was at full attention, “a millennia trapped in my own body. I suppose in many ways I still am. I didn’t even know I had gone mad. Sometimes I still don’t.”

“I’m…” Spiral felt herself choke on her words, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that’s like. I didn’t mean to…”

“There’s more than one way to feel trapped,” Jetfire said, “sometimes it’s being unable to move but wanting to go somewhere. Sometimes it’s the exact opposite. I was a very bad person, once…” Jetfire held his cane in his free hand, the implement wobbling slightly in his frail grasp, “this, I think, is penance. In this way I am still trapped.”

“But how do you cope with it?” Spiral asked, “being unable to move, needing help just to get up? Being so weak? Doesn’t feeling trapped bother you?”

“I already told you how,” Jetfire seemed genuinely confused, “the young lass, the friendly fella, and the scarred lad…” his gaze seemed to drift off into space, “and the green lady who’s very smart, and the very loud fella, and the small one who always seems so far away. She’s blue, has green eyes, and covers her face kind of like me. I don’t see her very often…” his voice trailed off as his lucidity began to wane, and Spiral shook her head.

“No,” she said, “neither do I.”



*****



Optimus had only seen Earth from space twice. Both times from behind the console of a shuttle, both times he didn’t have the chance to really appreciate the beauty. From this distance the land masses looked so serene. The clouds swirled like wisps in the wind, and from here there were no borders or divides. Cybertron glistened from space, but Earth was soft and appealing in its own way. Kind of like a marble. It put many things in perspective, like how the observation deck of The Revenge was large enough that Optimus could stand near the edge and almost forget he was on a warship. As usual, Galvatron made them wait, but this time Optimus had a plan, and was equipped. Botanica sat in a chair, tapping away at a control panel on her wrist, while Ruiner splashed his hands around in a large fountain.

“Could you please stop that?” Botanica said, “it’s unbelievably distracting.”

“They have Razorfish in here!” Ruiner said, teasing the small yet vicious creatures with his fingers, pulling away just as they snapped at him. “What kind of lunatic keeps mech-eating turds like these as pets?”

“I’m getting tired of these games,” Optimus ignored Ruiner’s comment, “Galvatron isn’t even trying to not be suspicious at this point, and that concerns me.” He turned to Botanica and approached her, his voice dropping to a whisper, “how’s it going?”

“Without directly interfacing with a terminal,” she replied in a likewise low tone, “and, of course, alerting every firewall this ship undeniably has in the process, slowly. A wireless tap is discreet but ineffective. Were I a pedantic individual, I’d liken it to navigating a minefield in stilts, or whatever makes it hard for people with legs to walk.”

“Do what you can,” Optimus said. He could feel Galvatron’s eyes on him, like he was a bug in a jar. Be it a petty show of dominance, or simple arrogance, Galvatron liked to watch Optimus sweat. That was about to be put to an end.

“Terribly sorry to keep you waiting yet again,” Galvatron said as he entered the room. Optimus was steeled this time against the abruptness of his arrival, and repressed the urge to glower. Instead he remained neutral, cordial even, as the Decepticon approached alone.

“It’s quite alright,” Optimus said, extending a hand to shake. Galvatron seemed perplexed at the gesture, and Optimus released a small chuckle, “it’s a human way of introductions. You shake hands to show agreement and mutual respect.”

“Marvelous,” Galvatron said, and accepted. They shook, Galvatron’s grip was firm despite his relaxed posture.

“No entourage this time?” Optimus asked.

“Good help is truly hard to find,” Galvatron said, seemingly exhausted by some unknown annoyance, “besides, I didn’t want you to think I was intimidating you.”

“Not at all,” Optimus lied, “by the way, this is my science officer, Botanica, and my weapons specialist, Ruiner.”

“Oh?” Galvatron said, almost seeming impressed, “an Autobot weapons specialist? On such a peaceful little operation?”

“I’m more of a mascot,” Ruiner said, “but still very special.”

“Remember,” Optimus said to Galvatron, “until only a day ago we still believed there was a war going on.”

“Of course,” Galvatron said apologetically.

“Which reminds me,” Optimus began, “this might seem a bit presumptuous, but in order for dialogues to open between you and Earth, there was a little formality I needed to clear up first.”

“You wish to contact Cybertron using my ship,” Galvatron said, “and confirm if I’m telling the truth? Hear from Autobot High Command that the war really is over?” Optimus checked himself. Again Galvatron seemed to know just what he was thinking, and Optimus could not help but glance at Ruiner and Botanica.

“Yes,” Optimus said tersely.

“It was actually Straxus who made the consideration,” Galvatron said, “with your… modest operation and our somewhat disruptive arrival, you’ve not been able to contact Cybertron, correct?” Optimus felt his hydraulics pressurize at Galvatron’s words, but kept himself calm.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Optimus said, “humanity wants to move quickly, but everything needs to be above board. Cybertron has specific rules about how much to disclose, and when to do so. I just need to make sure I, as an Autobot, have the authority to broker such relations.”

“I have nothing to hide,” Galvatron held up his hands, before motioning towards the door, “this way, please. We’ll use the Transwarp Signal Jumper. You’ll have the best line in the galaxy, I promise.” Optimus nodded, and the four made their way from the more casual dwellings into the corridor. They followed Galvatron through a winding set of halls deeper into the ship, and with each threshold they passed things grew more militaristic, more hard-edged, and darker. Optimus felt like he was being swallowed until, finally, they reached the main communications room. It made the terminal back at base look positively quaint, with massive display monitors that made the room feel more like an auditorium. Optimus remembered that this ship was the mobile Capital of the Decepticon army, and shuddered to think what kind of conversations were had here. Galvatron approached the main console and keyed it on, a standby screen appearing on the massive display. He smiled, and Optimus looked to Botanica, who nodded.

“I hope you don’t mind if she monitors the communication?” Optimus said as she glided over to the console.

“Not at all,” Galvatron said. Botanica approached and began typing away with all four hands.

“Remarkably user-friendly,” she muttered to herself as she keyed in the Autobot encryption codes. Optimus waited patiently, only for Ruiner to step up and whisper in his ear.

“Spiral’s saying they found something,” he explained, “she has a copy of the data that was stolen.”

“Send it to me,” Optimus said, and Ruiner nodded. He paused a moment to confirm with Spiral over the comm, and a moment later Optimus began receiving information.

“Everything alright?” Galvatron asked.

“Just keeping the humans updated,” Optimus said.

“We’re green,” Botanica announced, “opening channel now.” An instant later the screen turned to the face of a robot. They were blue and grey with only a pair of narrow eyes visible behind a red face shield.

“This is Officer Blurr of the Autobot Investigation and Security Bureau,” the robot introduced himself.

“This is Optimus of Autobot Outpost Epsilon,” Optimus reciprocated.

“Ah, the Earth ‘bots,” Blurr said, “you’ve been out of contact for a while. We were about to send an emergency probe.”

“Yeah, well, we had weather problems,” Optimus rubbed his neck in embarrassment, “in fact, that’s why I’m calling. I need to confirm something with you,” Optimus placed his hands on his hips, his tone becoming stern, “the war, is it true it’s over?”

“You have been out of the loop,” Blurr said, “indeed, the Decepticons offered their surrender thirteen megacycles ago, and it was accepted unconditionally by Sentinel Prime almost immediately. Congratulations boys and girls, you’re on the winning team.” Blurr squinted at the screen before his narrow eyes became very wide, “wait, is that-?”

“Yes, well,” Optimus said, turning to Galvatron who stood next to him, “I was told that as part of the terms of surrender the Decepticons were exiled from Cybertron. Now Galvatron here wants to establish a peaceful colony on this neutral world, with me and my team as the mediators.”

“You were told correct,” Blurr said plainly, “Earth isn’t officially part of the commonwealth, so I suppose it is fair game. I can direct you through the proper channels if you wish.”

“Actually,” Optimus said as he finished examining the information Road Rage and Ironhide discovered in his head, “I just have one question I’d like to ask first.”

“Of course,” Blurr said, and Galvatron gave Optimus a sideways glance.

“What exactly is Nucleon?” Optimus asked, and suddenly he felt the mood shift. Galvatron’s smile was gone, and Blurr gave Optimus a quizzical look.

“I beg your pardon?” Blurr asked back.

“You heard me,” Optimus said, “the ‘theoretical superfuel,’ though from your reaction I’d guess it’s not so theoretical?”

“Nucleon is, well,” Blurr began, “it’s a substance found in the core of planets. Theorized for years, it was recently found to exist during the Tyrus Five incident.”

“The planet that blew up?” Ruiner asked.

“It is a very rare element, not found in all worlds,” Blurr continued, “it stabilizes under specific temperatures commonly found in the golden zone. When Tyrus Five happened, in the wake of its destruction, the substance was observed and sampled before dissipating in the void. That information was supposed to be sealed because the only way to extract it-”

“Is to destroy the planet,” Optimus turned to Galvatron, who was suspiciously quiet, “isn’t that right?” The room fell into a deafening silence, with no one saying a word. Galvatron’s face was blank, but after a moment he smiled, as if admitting defeat. He pressed a button on the console and the feed went dead.

“So disappointing,” Galvatron said. “I really tried, you know. If we could’ve just been more trusting of one another.”

“Hard to trust a Decepticon,” Optimus said. He felt his Spark beating a mile a minute, and slowly started to back away from the Decepticon.

“Technically,” Galvatron began, “you don’t have to destroy a planet to get Nucleon. You can just sort of, for lack of a better term, suck it out through the veins of molten rock. It’s just that doing so tends to cause the planet to explode shortly afterwards.”

“Why even bother with the pretense?” Optimus asked.

“Because it would’ve been so much more humane,” Galvatron shrugged, “I could’ve bled this world dry bit by bit, then maybe in a few decades or so leave peacefully before, well,” Galvatron punctuated his statement with an exploding gesture in his hands. “Humans are such a young species. fifty years is plenty of time to live long, fulfilling lives, right? Or am I thinking of birds? How long do humans live for, anyway?”

“Ninety, give or take,” Ruiner said.

“Well, who really wants to grow old and grey?” Galvatron snapped his fingers and immediately the Autobots were set upon by Blackout and Bonecrusher. Ruiner barely had a chance to react before Blackout lifted him by his weapon pods, and Botanica was easily restrained by just one of Bonecrusher’s massive hands holding her like a toddler holding a toy. Optimus hardly flinched towards Galvatron before the Decepticon held up a finger.

“You’re going to regret this,” Optimus said, fuming at the sight of his friends as hostages. His voice fell to a low growl as he seethed at Galvatron’s smug expression, “I’m giving you one chance to surrender. We don’t have to do this.”

“Surrender?” Galvatron let out a hearty laugh, “really, now? Well, far be it from me to turn away such a generous offer, but look around you, Autobot. You foolishly let your only source of firepower be neutralized, you aren’t in any position to make demands.”

“Wait, you think I’m the only source of firepower?” Ruiner scoffed as he dangled from Blackout’s grasp, “buddy, I’m not even the big guns of this operation. She is.”

“Ruiner, jump!” Optimus shouted, and with the cue given Botanica unleashed a blast from her hip-mounted electrical cannons. Ruiner pulled himself from Blackout’s grasp just in time for the chain lightning to connect with him, arcing from Blackout to Galvatron. Optimus ducked as the intense electrical surge shocked the two in an instant, and Ruiner came down from his jump and planted his foot square into Bonecrusher’s face. He lost his grip on Botanica, and she spun around to focus her blast on the stout brute. With the three Decepticons momentarily stunned the Autobots regrouped.

“Seems you were a bit too trusting, Galvatron,” Ruiner remarked.

“Speaking of,” Optimus looked to Botanica, “I believe that’s your cue.”

“Activating the worm now,” she said, pressing a button on the back of her hand. The console she had used lit up, and the display began to flicker and glitch. The worm program Botanica discreetly uploaded whilst contacting Cybertron began to work its way through The Revenge’s systems. She looked at the wireless link to the worm on the back of her hand, tracking its progress. A rare smile flickered across her face as Botanica found what she was looking for, “Transwarp drive controls located and nullified.”

“You make it look so easy,” Ruiner said.

“There was nothing easy about it,” Botanica replied, “I’ve given us minutes at most.”

“Then we have to get out of here,” Optimus turned to look back into the communications room. Blackout and Bonecrusher struggled to rise, already recovering from the intense electrical surge to their systems, but Galvatron laid still. Optimus didn’t feel like sticking around to see him wake up, and the three immediately switched to vehicle mode. They drove at top speed down the hallway, retracing their steps back towards the main hangar. Optimus fish-tailed around corners as he tried to follow the mental map he’d made, only to slam on his brakes as they turned into the final hallway. He transformed and fell onto his rear, skidding along the floor. Ruiner and Botanica likewise frantically switched forms to stop.

“That’s impossible!” Ruiner said. At the end of the hallway stood Galvatron, arms on his hips, like he’d been waiting there for them.

“When did he-?” Optimus muttered, only to realize that of course Galvatron’s ship would have secret passages only he would know about.

“Damn he’s fast,” Ruiner remarked, and quickly readied his guns. He opened fire on Galvatron who ducked and weaved, only to transform himself. He landed on three sets of heavy treads, some kind of mobile artillery, and his cannon fired a thin beam of purple plasma. The Autobots ducked as the beam sliced through the air, hitting the wall behind them and melting the thick metal walls like they were tissue paper. Optimus rolled to his feet and sprinted full-speed to Galvatron, the latter transforming as if to offer the challenge. Optimus wasn’t intimidated, and faked right before kicking with his left leg. Galvatron dodged it immediately, more than immediately, as if he’d seen it coming. He followed with a hard elbow into Optimus’ right side, and Optimus collapsed against the wall. More bullets came from behind as Ruiner lit up the air where Galvatron was as the Decepticon deftly avoided the shots without even looking.

“Zap him already!” Ruiner shouted at Botanica.

“I don’t have the energy!” She shouted back, “I have to recharge after such a large attack.”

“Ruiner!” Optimus said from the floor, “the door!” Optimus pointed at the bulkhead down the corridor, and Ruiner switched from bullets to missiles, launching two rockets down the hallway towards Galvatron. The Decepticon dodged, but the missiles kept going, colliding with the door and blowing it open. Suddenly Galvatron’s movements seemed much less predictive, more cautious, as if Ruiner’s attacks threw him off. Yet he dodged the bullets with such ease, it was only in the last moment did Galvatron seem more distracted. Optimus seized the opportunity, but Galvatron again seemed to predict his movements, but not enough to stop being tackled into the wall. They struggled, Optimus finally feeling for himself the immense strength Galvatron possessed. It was like trying to lift a mountain, Galvatron’s grip was so immovable. Optimus tried to sweep his leg, but he didn’t have the strength. He tried to kick Galvatron in the side, but his blows did little. The Decepticon merely smirked, amused by the weak attempts at freedom, and Optimus had little else to do. Galvatron anticipated all his moves, he shrugged off all his attacks, and just when Optimus felt his strength waning Galvatron’s smug expression faded into annoyance.

“Right,” he muttered, “two minutes.” He shrugged, and lifted Optimus off his feet, slamming him up against the wall, “two minutes was plenty, though.” Optimus was confused. It was like Galvatron was talking to someone else. Optimus had only one trick left. He spun his tires on the backs of his shoulders against the wall. Burning rubber, literally, as white smoke began to envelope the hallway. Galvatron seemed surprised, then grimaced, raising his hand to strike Optimus, but in doing so gave Optimus an out. He threw his weight to one side, slipping free of Galvatron’s grasp in the smokescreen as he swung at empty air.

“Optimus!” Botanica yelled through the fog, “get down!” He didn’t question her, Optimus simply hit the deck, and suddenly things got very bright. Another arc of electricity ionized the air around him, reflected in the haze like a thunderstorm, and he heard Galvatron stumble back. Without missing a beat Optimus poked up from the smoke, signalling his Autobots to follow him. They made a break for the hangar, full speed, as the shuttle craft that brought them there sat waiting. Optimus considered the lack of guards, even alarms, but didn’t have the luxury of being cautious. He made sure Botanica and Ruiner got in first before he entered, the former already at the controls.

“Hold on!” Ruiner said, ungracefully pulling out of The Revenge’s hangar and into the vacuum of space. Optimus felt a tenseness all the way from the ship to orbit, lingering doubts and questions. No guards at the shuttle, no other pursuers, no anti-air picking them out of the sky as they left. They had definitely been allowed to escape, no question, and Optimus still felt that Galvatron was in control, even as they were heading back to earth with Galvatron watching from the hangar, hands on his hips as he watched with contentment as the Autobots fled. Blackout and Bonecrusher joined him, standing with perplexed expressions.

“You want us to go after ‘em, melord?” Bonecrusher asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Two minutes,” Galvatron ignored the question and held up two fingers, turning to reveal a wide smile on his face, “two glorious minutes. It was more than a new record, it was… indescribable.”

“We saw you leave,” Blackout said, “from down the hallway we saw everything, but we stayed back. We didn’t want to get in the way or nothin’.”

“What should we do now, Lord Galvatron?” Bonecrusher asked, “I mean, they know our plan. Isn’t that bad?”

“I played it safe this time,” Galvatron said, turning to face his underlings, “I was methodical, but if I’m to take risks, really push this ability to its limits, I must experiment further.” He closed his hand slowly, recalling the fresh sensation still in his mind, “let them come and be our... test subjects.”

 

Honestly the bit with Jetfire and Spiral hits like a truck. Speaking from personal experience, it's painful watching someone close to you wither and fade, dementia setting in as the end encroaches on them.

 

Chapter Six
Arm Thyself​

“Contact Marissa!” Optimus ordered as he entered the base, pointing to Ironhide who immediately made his way to the communications station. Optimus looked back at Botanica who had already glided over to her own terminal, “and for the love of Primacron tell me our satellites are back up.”

“What the hell happened?” Road Rage asked, “your signal was so bad I could barely make out a word.”

“Galvatron wants to blow up the planet, that’s what,” Ruiner said.

“More specifically, he’s after Nucleon,” Botanica explained for the others, “a substance found only in select planets near or in the core. What he wants it for and what it's capable of is unclear, but it’s why he came here.”

“Regardless, if he finds a way to ‘drain’ the Earth of Nucleon,” Optimus crossed his arms, “well, what Ruiner said.”

“I miss the days where Decepticons just wanted to take over planets,” Spiral said, “not nuke them.”

“Technically,” Botanica held up a finger as she continued to type away, “the planet would implode, not explode.”

“That’s…” Road Rage said, “a lot of pressure.”

“Not pressure, gravitational collapse,” Botanica corrected her. Road Rage opened her mouth to retort, but gave up almost immediately.

“Optimus? What’s going on?” Marissa’s voice came over the speaker as her image appeared on screen. Her normally loose hair was tied back, and she wore a different outfit that looked less formal. Given the time Optimus assumed she’d just got out of bed.

“We know Galvatron’s plan,” Optimus said, then corrected himself, “well, we know what he wants. Turns out Nucleon is some kind of substance inside planets like Earth. He wants to mine it, or siphon it, whatever.”

“And that’s bad, I assume?” Marissa asked with a weary look.

“Our intel on the specifics are a little fuzzy,” Optimus explained, “but yes, it’s bad. Your world is in danger.” Optimus knew Faireborn could handle the truth, and to her credit she seemed only slightly taken aback by the remark. In an instant any lingering doubts in her expression were gone, and her demeanour turned deadly serious.

“Then we mobilize immediately,” she said, and quickly grabbed a jacket from out of view, “looks like all those protocols we made are finally getting put to use.”

“Wait,” Optimus held up a hand, “there’s no telling what Galvatron would do if provoked by humanity. The Revenge is a planet-scorcher, and has who-knows-how-many troops he can send out to cause havoc if you intervene.” Optimus gave Ironhide a curt nod, and the stout Autobot began sending information along their call line. Optimus explained as they appeared on Marissa’s feed; “these are defense strategies for situations like this. E.G.A.D.S. needs to make the world aware and prepared. We’re going to handle Galvatron.”

“By yourselves?” Marissa asked.

“No,” Optimus said, “Cybertron knows he’s here, and we were cut off midway through communications. They’ll send help, and hopefully we can take the battle away from Earth.”

“And what about his plan?” Marissa began motioning to someone off screen as more humans were seen mobilizing in the background.

“The key lies in the data he found,” Botanica explained from her station, “my best estimation is that he’s searching for optimum locations to extract the Nucleon, however I need time to analyze it to make a better hypothesis.”

“Time we may not have,” Marissa said, “we’re tracking The Revenge. It’s coming down, heading West towards the Pacific.”

“The ocean?” Ruiner asked, “what’s out there?”

“Tamu Massif,” Botanica explained, and a moment later information appeared on the main screen, reducing Marrisa’s feed to a small window in the corner. Botanica highlighted key points in the data, “It’s one of the locations in the files that were extracted. Tamu Massif is one of the largest volcanoes on the planet, and critically has one of the largest and deepest running magma flows.”

“He’s looking for a path of least resistance to the core,” Spiral mused, “but how is he going to reach it? Does The Revenge have a massive drill or something?”

“I’d rather not find out,” Optimus said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. They were woefully under-prepared, and while Cybertron was undoubtedly sending reinforcements, that could take days. They couldn’t wait that long. “Follow the protocols and be ready,” Optimus said to Faireborn as her feed ended, then turned to his Autobots, “it’s time to make full use of our available resources. We’ll prep our shuttle for combat and see what we can strip out of the one we stole from Galvatron.”

“Great,” Road Rage said, “that means diving into the frozen lake.”

“Ruiner,” Optimus said, and the Autobot held up a finger pointing to himself, “we need weapons.”

“Weapons, you say?” Ruiner said bashfully, looking side to side in an exaggerated manner, “what ever gave you the idea that I would know anything about that?”

“Just take us to the damn guns,” Ironhide said as he and the other Autobots gave a unanimous look of bemusement, and Ruiner soon dropped the pretense. He all but bounded out of the main room and into the hallway with a disturbing eagerness. Optimus and the others followed, and saw the Autobot specialist waiting outside the door to his quarters.

“Come into my chambers everyone,” he beckoned as he slid into the room, and Optimus entered to find a very plain space. There was a parking spot, a desk with a computer, and a collection of random trinkets on a workbench in the back corner.

“I’ve never actually been in here,” Road Rage mentioned, examining the sparse living conditions, “you spend so much time in here, I just assumed there was… more?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Ruiner said, and strode towards the workbench. He reached underneath it, and there were a series of clicks as his hand touched something they couldn’t see. A moment later the entire back wall groaned and began to rise towards the ceiling, revealing a much larger chamber that extended several times the length of his room. The walls were lined with lit displays, each filled by weapons of various shapes and sizes, and at the far back end was a much more elaborate work bench with armatures and materials stacked to the ceiling.

“Good God, man,” Ironhide said in awe.

“Well?” Ruiner said as he strode deeper into the room, arms out to show it all off, “comments? Questions? Everyone likes to have their collection praised, after all.”

“Where do I even start?” Optimus rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this much.

“Allow me to make some recommendations,” Ruiner held up a hand and quickly made his way to one display in particular, “I had you guys in mind whilst making a few of these, so I have some recommendations.”

“Of course you do,” Spiral rolled her eyes.

“First up, for our fearless leader-” Ruiner plucked a long, black rifle with a silver barrel from the wall, “duel mode Ion Rifle! For the pacifist with limits, the primary mode is a nominally non-lethal ion shot that stuns and disables most electronic systems. I say nominally non-lethal, because y’know, anyone with a pacemaker probably would have objections.” He handed the rifle to Optimus grip-first, and he accepted the weapon. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and most of the weight was near the grip. Ruiner continued, “now the secondary fire is a focused laser. Ion shots travel, this does not. For when you absolutely positively must melt a hole in up to ten meters of reinforced Cybertronian alloy.”

“Seems simple enough,” Optimus held it up. It had a linked scope, and he could see in different magnifications. Something uneasy welled within him, the ease of which he could simply point at another living thing and harm or even kill. But he also knew Galvatron would not have the same misgivings, let alone with his insane fighting capabilities. Optimus had considered mentioning just how eerie Galvatron’s fighting style was, how he could read Optimus’ moves before he made them, and how badly he was able to beat him without even firing a shot. Though perhaps with such a monumental threat ahead of them, and his own anxieties no doubt being shared with everyone else, the last thing he should do is doubt himself. He gripped the weapon a bit tighter, taking stock of the weight he now carried, “I’ll take it.”

“Now for the lady in red,” Ruiner pointed to Road Rage and took a smaller, bulkier weapon from the rack. It had a conical barrel, and as she took it by the handle it covered most of her hand. “Plasma Discharger. You’ll love it! Uses magnetic fields to focus super-heated plasma into a burst that packs a punch despite its lightweight design. I’m particularly proud of the mechanism, as it uses few moving parts-”

“Yeah, I got it,” Road Rage said, and Ruiner dramatically scoffed. He turned to Ironhide next, his eyes wide with anticipation, “as for you my stout brother. You know, we’re a lot alike.”

“We are?” Ironhide asked as Ruiner put his arm around him.

“Of course!” Ruiner said, “we both have yellow eyes, we both have faceplates, and we both have four fingers on each hand. We’re practically twins!” He spun on his heel and picked up a long, tapering firearm that was entirely chrome-plated, “static dispersal rifle. Much like green-thumb’s own electro-discharge cannons, this uses a powerful electric charge to zap hapless foes into submission.” Ironhide accepted the weapon, but after holding it for a few moments seemed visibly disappointed, which was quickly reflected in Ruiner; “what’s wrong?”

“It’s nice, it’s just…” Ironhide said, “a little on the small side, don’t you think?” Ruiner gave Ironhide a firm pat on the shoulder as his eyes betrayed a devilish happiness.

“I told you we’re a lot alike!” Ruiner spun around and picked up two very large cylindrical cannons, tucking each one under his arms. “Hold out your arms and open your hard points,” he said, and Ironhide complied. He affixed one cannon to each arm, the two weapons perfectly slotting into place. Ironhide seemed much more satisfied, as did Ruiner. “Hands-free, just like yours truly. Better?”

“Much better!” Ironhide said.

“I know you’re excited to show off your disturbing hobby,” Optimus said, “but we really have to get moving. Get Spiral and Botanica armed and meet us outside. We’ll get the shuttle ready.”

“I’m quite happy with my own armaments,” Botanica said, looking at the wall of guns, “much less... crude.”

“Naysayers everywhere,” Ruiner sighed, and the four armed Autobots left, leaving him and Spiral behind as she examined the many weapons.

“You built all these yourself?” She asked, “and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Well, nobody asked,” Ruiner said, “besides, it’s not like you include us in your hobbies.”

“I don’t have hobbies,” Spiral said.

“Right,” Ruiner shrugged, “you just spend your days in angst, working out and punching inanimate objects until the paint peels on your knuckles.” Spiral shot him a glare, and he simply looked away with his hands on his hips, “I mean that with the least amount of judgement, of course. Now are you gonna pick a gun or what?”

“What if I wanted more than a gun?” Spiral asked, “what are you capable of making?”

“Such as?” Ruiner asked.

“We don’t have stasis pods,” Spiral explained, “and I’ve wanted to… upgrade myself.”

“I think that’s a little outside my realm of expertise,” Ruiner shrugged once more, “what’s wrong with how you are now?”

“Nothing,” she said, only to decide that wasn’t true, “it’s stupid, really.”

“I mean,” Ruiner said, “clearly it’s not to you, or you wouldn’t be bothered by it.”

“Remember back on Cybertron,” Spiral began, “when Road Rage had her body sort of transform into weapons? Like her helmet changed into a battle mode, and her arms grew blades from her doors?”

“Vaguely,” Ruiner sighed, “I more vividly remember fighting a giant dragon and a guy with a zombie head, but go on.”

“I want that,” Spiral said, “I want a body that I can rely on. I want to be… more capable.”

“Minus the prerequisite personality glitch, I take it?” Ruiner asked.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” Spiral said.

“I’m just saying,” Ruiner held up his hands, “mods and upgrades are nice, but you have to be formatted for that kind of hardware. Holding a gun and being a gun are entirely different things. You over-mod yourself and you can push your processor past its limits.”

“Then just give me a stupid gun, then,” Spiral snapped, and Ruiner seemed a bit taken aback. He shrugged once more, then reached for a particularly odd-looking weapon. It was boxy, with a large ring around the handle.

“Beam handgun,” he said. “Punchy, reliable, and this brace around the grip makes it good for clobberin’. I can show you more, if you want.”

“No,” Spiral said, accepting the weapon, “this is fine, thanks.” She held her new firearm for a moment, appreciating the weight and feel of it. She felt just a bit better with it in her hand, and a little less unsure of what to do. Afterall, all she had to do to make it work was point and shoot, and whatever was in her way would cease to be a problem.

 

Shiiiiiiiiiit Ironhide actually getting his cannons is pretty sick given how bizarrely unexpected it turned out to be. We've known him as being essentially weapon-less for so long that it's easy to forget that he's based on the version that's known for them.

I'm interested in Spiral's character arc. There are a lot of ways it can go, and there is plenty of room to speculate at this stage.

 

There's something I really want Spiral to do 'cosmetically' but I'm afraid to mention it. I think it really implied and as readers we are meant to want it, it would be so satisfying.

Galvatron is terrifying and I like these Autobots so much the tension is genuine whenever there is conflict. It would be fine just to read about them hanging out and talking, something I felt with Beast Wars, Animated and other great books, I think that's so telling that you've made great characters. You don't need anything interesting to happen to them, they already feel real, but it does and so you have a really rich experience.

How the bot's use Earth terms and human gestures in this as a way of bonding over a shared and unique experience is well executed. I hadn't thought of it in those terms before, as an inside joke amongst friends maybe because other series just shoehorn phrases and gestures in?

Too many golden moments to comment on, really enjoying this. Please keep it coming!

 

Chapter Seven
Deep Trouble​

“Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” Road Rage spoke through gritted teeth as she clutched her seat restraints, “because I don’t think it’s supposed to be this bumpy.”

“We agreed, no backseat flying,” Ruiner said from the pilot’s chair, “those were the terms of rock, blanket, sticks or whatever it was I won.”

“I’m just saying-” she continued, only to be cut off by a harsh jostling, “these Decepticon shuttles have really big seats.I don’t feel very secure right now!”

“And I thought Optimus’ flying was bad,” Spiral said, likewise rattling in her seat. She checked to make sure her new blaster was still attached to her hip, and after a quick yank to test the security of the holster, nodded with satisfaction.

“Everything in this thing is over-sized,” Ruiner said, having to extend his arms to reach the controls, “I know ‘Cons are usually larger fellows, but sometimes I think it’s a mental thing. Like they have to have everything giant-sized so it all feels important or something.” The shuttle was ostentatious, Spiral had thought. It was a short-range vessel yet was nearly the same size, if not slightly bigger, than their own ship that brought them here. It also took almost an hour for all six of them to comb over it for bugs, explosives, or anything else that might be used as a countermeasure by Galvatron. They had found a self-destruct and swiftly disarmed it, as well as manually reset the communications and frequency package to their own lest it be remotely disabled. Now it was just another ship, albeit a large one, with two main cannons as its only offense. Spiral was initially disappointed by the minimal armament on a Decepticon ship, but considering its purpose as a short-range shuttle which normally have no weapons at all, it was acceptable.

“How’re you doing Shuttle One?” Optimus’ voice came over the radio.

“Smooth sailing, Shuttle A,” Ruiner replied, and Road Rage exchanged bemused looks with Spiral.

“Remember to keep an eye on radar,” Optimus advised, “E.G.A.D.S. should have all commercial and military flights grounded by now, but there could be stragglers or private aircraft between us and the target.”

“Copy that,” Ruiner replied, “though I can’t imagine too many private planes flying across the Pacific.”

“What about boats in the area?” Road Rage asked.

“Anything within a hundred miles was either turned around or redirected to the port of Japan,” Optimus explained, “so far The Revenge is holding still about nine hundred ninety miles East of the coast, right above the center point of Tamu Massif.”

“What’s he going to do?” Road Rage asked, “even if he drilled, wouldn’t it just get filled with seawater?”

“Maybe that’s why he’s waiting,” Spiral said, “trying to figure it out?”

“All I know is that it can’t be good,” Optimus replied, “and that we have to be ready. He may send troops to intercept us.”

“Optimus,” Spiral asked before he hung up, “what are we going to do when we get there?”

“We already went over the plan of attack,” Optimus replied with confusion in his voice.

“No, I mean-” Spiral began, “Galvatron. We can’t just drive him away, right? We have to beat him.”

“I know that,” Optimus said, “one way or another, Galvatron has to be stopped. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“You’re not alone, big guy,” Road Rage said, turning to smile at Spiral, “I would like to go maybe a few years without having to stop an evil megalomaniac, though.”

“Well, Galvatron is quite literally the baddest of the bad,” Ruiner shrugged, “after him, it can’t possibly get any worse.”

“Why would you say that?” Road Rage asked, “you’re just asking for trouble. There’s gonna be, I dunno, a Galvatron II or something, only he’s even worse than the first one!”

“We’re about to reach the ocean now,” Optimus said, “everyone wave bye-bye to Vancouver and get ready to hit those afterburners.”

“Oh boy,” Road Rage muttered, “because the ride was so smooth at normal speeds.”

“Uh, bigbot?” Ruiner said, leaning forward to get a better look at his instruments, “I have a bogey at twelve o’clock.”

“I got nothing on my radar,” Optimus said.

“This isn’t radar,” Ruiner said, “it’s I.F.F., the shuttle’s picking up one of its own!” Spiral unbuckled herself from her seat and walked up to the console. The readout was indeed picking up an I.F.F. tag, but just who remained unclear.

“Get ready, Autobots,” Optimus said, “hold fire until I give the order, we’re still too close to the port!”

“I see it!” Road Rage shoved past Ruiner and Spiral as she pointed to the sky ahead. In the clear and open blue was a single marring speck of black. It wasn’t moving fast, in fact it barely seemed to be moving at all despite their relative speed. It was hovering in place.

“I think we should stop,” Spiral said, “right now!”

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out?” Ruiner said.

“Think, idiot!” Spiral pointed at the console, “he doesn’t show up on radar, and he’s just sitting there! It has to be an ambush!”

“What kind of ambush involves just hovering in open air?” Road Rage asked.

“The worst kind,” Spiral said, reaching for the comm to alert Optimus, only for a painful buzzing to rip through her head. Ruiner and Road Rage likewise reeled from whatever was afflicting her, and soon the ship’s entire console and interior lights went dark.

“Was that a Goddamned EMP?” Road Rage said, clutching her head.

“No no no!” Ruiner frantically flipped switches and pushed buttons on the console as a sense of weightlessness came over Spiral. They were in freefall, having sprung the trap that was laid for them. Through the window Spiral saw the world tumble as the view swapped between sunlight and deep blue water. There was no time for her and Road Rage to get back in their seats, and so they grabbed on to the back of Ruiner’s, bracing themselves as the whole shit collided with the ocean. Spiral lost her grip and flew to the back of the cabin, hitting her head hard on the back hatch. She clattered to the floor, and even then felt herself being pulled and tugged by the rocking of the shuttle against the waves caused by their impact. She rubbed her head, and was noted she didn’t seem to be injured, but she was on the ceiling of the shuttle. Road Rage likewise braced herself on all fours on the roof, while Ruiner frantically pulled at his seat restraints whilst hanging upside down.

“Get me out!” he cried, hysterically yet ineffectually yanking as his seat. Spiral unsteadily made her way through the ship’s interior as it swayed, getting a closer look at Ruiner’s predicament.

“It’s jammed, relax,” she said calmly, though he did not heed her advice, he did let go of the restraints. She grabbed each end pulled with all her might, breaking the lock and letting Ruiner fall from his seat.

“This sucks!” he said with panic in his voice, “this really, really sucks. I hate this planet. I hate it. I hate this stupid planet and all its stupid water!”

“Calm down,” Road Rage said, “since when are you afraid of the ocean?”

“Since right freaking now!” he said, “we’re dead in the water! Now we’re gonna get blown up and our dead bodies are gonna sink to the bottom and we’re gonna rust and get eaten by fish and some crab or something’s gonna use my head for a condo!”

“Ruiner!” Spiral slapped him across the face, “get a hold of yourself!” He shook his head clear, the panic seemingly knocked out of him.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, regaining some composure.

“Good,” Road Rage said, “because I also have a phobia of the ocean and you were seriously not helping.”

“You think the other’s are alright?” Ruiner asked, “they must’ve been EMP’d, too.”

“Boost me up so I can reach the manual ramp release,” Spiral said, pointing to the floor above them. Ruiner nodded and scooped her up onto his shoulders, trying to keep his balance in the rocking shuttle. The fact that it was upside down made it tricky for Spiral to pull the release lever, which swung parallel to the floor, and even trickier once it was open since she now had to fight gravity to push the ramp up. Eventually she was able to get enough space to crawl out and onto the shuttle’s belly, and after that it was simple enough to open the ramp the rest of the way. Ruiner helped Road Rage out, then the two lifted him from the shuttle until all three were standing on its underside, marooned in the middle of the ocean.

“Hey!” Road Rage shouted and began waving her hands, and Spiral turned to see the other shuttle floating about a kilometer away, likewise with Optimus, Ironhide, and Botanica standing on top. Their ship at least landed right side up, but their predicament was the same.

“Great,” Ruiner said, “now what? Don’t tell me we have to swim?”

“The guy who EMP’d us is still out there,” Spiral said, looking out towards the direction they saw the speck. They were a few hundred kilometres from land, with Vancouver Island just barely visible on the horizon. They were still miles from their destination, and now they were stranded at sea.

“Can you guys hear me?” Optimus’ voice came over Spiral’s comm, and from Ruiner and Road Rage’s expressions it seemed they could all hear him as well.

“Now what, fearless leader?” Ruiner asked, “don’t tell me we’re gonna start paddling?”

“Did you see it?” Spiral asked, ignoring Ruiner’s comment, “the guy in front of us, just hovering there?”

“I did,” Optimus replied, “just not soon enough. I thought these shuttles would be shielded against electromagnetic pulses, I mean they’re space ships, right?”

“Normal EMP’s don’t affect Cybertronians, either,” Botanica’s voice came on as well, “something very powerful shut us down, likely an ability unique to an individual.”

“There was that guy they called ‘Blackout,’” Ironhide added, “guy that big, with a name like that, I think he fits our profile. He also had to have radar shielding if we saw him before we detected him.”

“That means he’ll be coming to finish us off,” Road Rage said, holding her rifle in both hands. All six Autobots turned towards the direction they were heading, but even with magnification they couldn’t find anything in the sky. It would be unreasonable for anyone that big to also have cloaking abilities on top of all these other gimmicks, but for all Spiral knew he could be a one-robot army capable of anything.

“Not to be a nagging nanny,” Optimus said, “but you all remembered to install ballasts before we left, right? Just in case we ended up in the water, like we are now?”

“Of course,” Road Rage said, “why?”

“Just making sure,” Optimus replied, “these waves are really shaking us up, so I wanted to make sure you were prepared if you fell in.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked, “there’s practically no waves at all. In fact,” Road Rage gave a quick scan of the water around her, “it’s kinda creepy how still the water is.”

“Really?” Optimus said incredulously, “because we’re rocking like crazy over here-” his transmission was cut off as the sound of loud splashing pulled the three’s attention to the other shuttle as it lurched violently in the waves. Spiral saw Optimus and the others get knocked off their feet as the ship went end over end, covered by waves until it sank below the surface.

“Optimus!” Road Rage shouted as they watched helplessly as the waters returned to stillness without a trace of any Autobot or shuttle having been there. Tension unlike anything Spiral had experienced before coming to Earth settled in, however it felt eerily like her recently being stalked by Crowbar at the Matthews household. She couldn’t bear it, and decided she wouldn’t wait for the enemy to make the next move. She dived into the ocean despite her teammates voicing their objections. At last this time she was in control, though she couldn’t say she was remotely prepared for what she saw.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered as Spiral gazed upon a massive mechanical creature. It best resembled an Earth octopus, only gargantuan, covered in thick armour, and two of its prehensile arms were massive claws similar to a crab’s. In one it held Optimus, who struggled against its grip. The creature was easily five times Optimus’ size, and gripped the Autobot leader as though he were a toy, the opposite claw held part of the shuttle, with the remainder already sinking to the depths below. Spiral saw Ironhide and Botanica sinking not far past it, seemingly disoriented if not unconscious. Spiral hoped they weren’t dead, but now she realized the full scope of their error. The EMP was not meant to kill them, it was only meant to deliver them right into the waiting arms of this behemoth.

“You’re gonna regret this!” Optimus said, his voice muffled by the water, yet his anger was crystal clear. Spiral knew she had to do something before he was crushed, and pulled out her beam gun. She had no idea if it would work underwater, but she had no choice, she took aim at the best and fired, and sure enough a yellow-white lance of energy connected with the creature. It let out a garbled roar, but didn’t seem affected. It’s eyes, positioned near the base of its bulbous body above the tentacle-like arms, turned to look at her, but it didn’t change orientation or release its grip on Optimus. It did, however, release the wrecked shuttle, and reached with its now free claw for the Autobot already in its clutches. It was going to try and rip Optimus in half, and the Autobot leader only barely managed to get his arms up in time to stop the other claw. Spiral knew she was out of time, and took aim once more. This time she aimed for the eye closest to her, assuming it was a weak point, but both her and the creature were sinking at different speeds, and it writhed as it struggled with the prey already in its grasp. She steeled herself and squeezed the trigger, and another beam traced a line through the water between them. It was a bullseye, and the creature screamed before letting Optimus go.

“My freakin’ eye!” It bellowed, much to Spiral’s surprise. The creature continued to writhe in pain as Spiral activated the ballast in her back to afford her enough buoyancy to stop sinking. She swam towards Optimus who did the same. She was relieved to see Ironhide and Botanica swim over, albeit much more awkwardly.

“What the hell is this thing?” Ironhide asked.

“Hey! I’m not a thing!” The creature turned to face them, lashing out with one of its tentacles. It struck Ironhide hard, sending him tumbling backwards, “I’m your final destination!”

“Spread out!” Optimus ordered, and the three swam off in different directions.

“Tryin’a get in my blind spot?” The beast said, and lashed out with its tentacles again. Optimus barely managed to avoid them, but Spiral was hit hard in her leg. It threw off her already poor balance, Cybertronians simply weren’t designed to swim, and she struggled not to tumble as Ironhide did.

“You’re pretty chatty for an overgrown cephalopod,” Optimus remarked, then pulled out his Ion rifle. He fired, but the shots didn’t damage its hide at all. Optimus tried to aim for the eye as Spiral had, but the creature was moving too much, and he kept just barely missing.

“Again with the hurtful words,” it said, ensnaring Optimus in its tentacle, “Lord Galvatron told me you were crafty, he never said anything about being so rude!”

“Botanica!” Spiral shouted, “blast him!”

“I can’t!” she replied, “if I discharge my electrical cannons underwater I’ll fry my circuits, not to mention all of you!” Spiral didn’t know what she was supposed to do, and could only fire impotently as Optimus was constricted more and more until an explosion erupted underneath the creature. She turned her gaze downward and saw Ironhide, slowly sinking as air leaked from the ballast on his back, firing his cannons upward. The shells he fired were kinetic, and streaked through the water like torpedoes. He fired consecutively, all of his shots connecting with the large target, until finally its grip on Optimus weakened.

“Get its eyes!” Spiral shouted, and Optimus wasted no time, not even bothering to use his rifle and instead pulled himself towards the creature to strike it in the eye with his fist. It roared again, its tentacles thrashing as it lost its sight, and it began to convulse. The claws outstretched and opened, the tentacles wriggled behind itself, and its bulbous body split to reveal a smaller helmet-encased head and two large arms. Its robot mode resembled a deep sea diver, only with massive fists and a very angry expression.

“Now you’ve done it!” the robot said, flexing its large arms, “you’ve gone and made Octopunch very, very angry.” Optimus didn’t waste time on the new threat, instead he took the opportunity to swim after his sinking friend, Ironhide struggling to blow his last ballasts before he disappeared into the inky black below.

“Opitmus, look out!” Spiral cried, but her warning came too late. Octopunch shot his left fist forward, a screw-shaped column jutting from his forearm compressed inwards, and his fist extended from his wrist producing a powerful shockwave. It blew everyone back, including Optimus and Ironhide, who now both tumbled helplessly to the crushing depths below. Octopunch let out a hearty laugh as his fist retracted back into his arm.

“Come on, now,” he said, “you guys gotta do better than this. You’re puttin’ me to sleep, here!”

“I’ll put you to sleep for good!” Spiral shouted and fired again. Her shots once again connected with little effect, and Octopunch’s head was buried within a heavy helmet, making it impossible to target any predictable weak point. He reared his right fist back and punched forward, the same mechanism as before producing another shockwave which catapulted Spiral out of the water. She spent seconds tumbling through the air before plunging beneath the waves again, completely helpless in the aquatic environment as Octopunch began to swim towards her.

“Tired, Autobot?” He chuckled, “swimming is a taxing exercise. If your body is not built for the environment, it’s like moving with weights on every limb.” He stopped just a few meters from her, the tentacles on his back wriggling in precise ways to control his float, “I was mocked for years because my skills were suited to underwater combat on a world with hardly any oceans. When the war moved to space I felt like even more of a loser. Then Galvatron found me, saw my potential…” He opened his massive hands and held them before him, “I see potential in you, Autobot. I see a strong fighter, someone too strong to just die weak and helpless in some literal backwater rock.”

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” Spiral said.

“Galvatron told me to stop you,” Octopunch said, “he never said nothin’ about killing you. Haven’t enough of us died already?”

“Where do your eyes go when you transform?” Spiral asked, and Octopunch tilted his head inquisitively.

“Uh, what?” he asked.

“Your octopus or whatever eyes,” she explained, “the ones I shot, they’re on your shoulders now, right?”

“You some kinda pervert?” he glared, “what do you care what bits go where?”

“You got something stuck in one,” she said, and Octopunch struggled to look past his own bulky body to see his left shoulder indeed had something hanging from it. A hook, specifically the one found on tow trucks, with the line wrapping around behind him and up to Optimus, who floated just behind the Decepticon’s head. Just as Octopunch turned to look, Optimus drove his fist right through the center port of his helmet and into his face. Octopunch reeled from the blow, only to have a blast hit him square in his mid-section from Ironhide’s cannons, fired almost point blank as he floated with Optimus’ cable wrapped around his waist.

“You’re not the only one with a mean left hook,” Optimus quipped, and kicked the stunned Decepticon back.

“Oh God, that was a pun,” Ironhide shook his head in embarrassment, much to Optimus’ amusement.

“Don’t celebrate yet!” Spiral warned them as Octopunch recovered, holding his face in agony but still afloat. Optimus quickly drew his ion rifle and fired straight into his helmet, and the Decepticon let out a bumbling roar as his systems were neutralized, rendering the behemoth alive, but immobile.

“Man alive,” Ironhide remarked, “remind me to give Ruiner my compliments. That thing really works!”

“I was worried you two were goners,” Spiral said, “when I saw you sinking before… I don’t want to ever see that image again.”

“What about Botanica?” Ironhide asked as he looked around, “where’d she go?”

“Probably blew her ballasts,” Optimus said, “I bet Road Rage and Ruiner picked her up.”

“What about Seafood Louis?” Ironhide pointed down, “we just gotta let him sink?”

“We’ll have to come back for him later,” Optimus said, “right now we need to call E.G.A.D.S., get a ship or something. Galvatron’s already got a massive head st-” Optimus was grabbed by a tentacle, his arms forced against his sides. Ironhide and Spiral were likewise ensnared as Octopunch, back in his leviathan form, dragged the three Autobots in his arms as he sank deeper into the jet-black abyss.

“If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me!” he garbled through his broken beak, “let’s see just how much pressure the average Autobot can withstand. Less than me, I’ll bet!” Spiral struggled to pull her gun out from the tentacle, but he was gripping tightly. She wriggled her arm against her body, having just enough room, but heard an awful crunching sound. She felt something against her side break, and pulled her arm free only to see her blaster crushed to pieces. Soon she would be, too, either by Octopunch or the ocean itself, and tried desperately along with Optimus and Ironhide to break free.

“My ballasts are bursting!” Optimus said as large bubbles of air escaped from beneath Octopunch’s grasp. Soon Spiral felt her own break as well, the precious compressed air she needed to make it to the surface racing away from her towards the surface. Even the light was starting to fade as they sank deeper, and she wondered just how deep the ocean was this far from land. Even if they weren’t completely crushed by the pressure, without any way to swim back up they could die from exposure as seawater slowly leaked into the internals, with no way to stop it. Spiral continued to struggle, refusing to quit. Octopunch was right about one thing, it would be a waste for her to die here. Twice in just a few days she found herself helpless and trapped, and it only made her angrier.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Optimus said as he likewise ran out of strength. Spiral didn’t get a chance to say anything back, though she wanted to. For a moment she had something to say, but whatever instinctual reply she had in mind was lost when something streaked by them. It was fast, like a jet plane but underwater, and it hit Octopunch with such force that his grip loosened, and the Autobots drifted free. Something assaulted the Decepticon, but it was too dark and too fast to see, and already Spiral had a hard time seeing through the haze of her damage sustained. Whatever it was, it struck hard and fast, and with a final defiant bellow Octopunch sank away into the dark.

“Grab on,” a voice said, eerily clear despite them being underwater. She reached out, felt something metal and solid, and wrapped her arms around it. She could make out Optimus and Ironhide’s shapes as well, and she felt herself being pulled back towards the surface. The murky dark was replaced with bright crystal blue, and they breached the surface. Optimus spat seawater from his mouth as a hand extended next to his head.

“Need a lift?” Road Rage said with a smile as she knelt in the doorway of some kind of ship. It was large, white and blue, and hovered just above the water’s surface, an unseen propulsion causing rippling waves around them. Optimus smiled back, and accepted. Road Rage pulled him aboard, then the two of them hoisted Ironhide while Ruiner and Botanica brought Spiral up. Finally their rescuer, a large robot with metallic blue armour and large wing-like fins, entered as well, and Spiral saw there were more than just their fellow Autobots on board.

“Welcome aboard, everyone,” a proper-sounding voice said, though Spiral didn’t see anyone talking. The other two robots were quite different. One was slender, taller than her but shorter than Optimus, with a sleek helmet and red face shield. The other was larger, broad, and oddly familiar-looking. Spiral’s teammates all exchanged looks of relief, and Road Rage made a point to hug all three of them.

“Thank you,” Optimus said, composing himself as water continued to run out of every seam and crack in his body, “you saved our lives.”

“Don’t mention it,” the aquatic robot who saved them spoke in a gravelly, deep tone. Spiral exchanged a look with him, his face unreadable, and she quickly turned away. She felt a twinge of shame at being saved by a complete stranger. Optimus had no compunctions however, and gave a courteous and appreciative nod.

“I’m Optimus,” he introduced himself, then looked at the slender robot with the face shield, “and I remember you. You were the one I contacted on Galvatron’s ship! Blurr, was it?”

“That’s right,” the Autobot said, “soon as the feed cut we knew you were in hot water,” he gave a wink, “of course I didn’t expect it to be so literal.”

“I am Ultra Magnus,” the broad robot exclaimed with a commanding tone, “reinforcements have arrived, and there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

 

Just got caught up with this. Loving it. I've been missing Transformers stories that play with an Earth setting, character interplay, interesting use of alt modes and weapons. This is like soul food, it's my nicotine patch whenever I need a hit of all the good stuff this franchise could be and hasn't been for about a decade

nice

 

Chapter Eight
Superior Forces​

Blackout watched with satisfaction as the two Autobot shuttles plunged into the ocean below, precisely where he wanted them to. From this distance it was like watching pebbles drop into a puddle, and he imagined an appropriate “plop” sound to accompany it. He had gotten closer to them than Galvatron had ordered, but he really didn’t want to risk his EMP strength diminishing. Octopunch was waiting in the waters below, just as they had planned, and would surely have detected the ships falling into the water. Now all Blackout had to do was hold position and watch the show, possibly pick off any stragglers the aquatic Decepticon left behind. It was a great plan, Blackout thought, but then all of Galvatron’s plans were great, because Galvatron was great. The fact that he had concocted a trap to utilize the aberrant and useless Octopunch also spoke to Galvatron’s vast intellect and kindness, that even he could find a purpose for one so meaningless. Though Blackout did admit to himself that the sight of the sea behemoth ripping Autobots apart was something to behold, he’d never tell Octopunch that.

“What’s your status, Blackout?” a gruff voice came over his communicator.

“Stage one complete, Bonecrusher,” Blackout replied, “the Autobots are in the drink. Now it’s up to the beast to finish them off.”

“Perfect,” Bonecrusher said, “if you can, try and get some footage of the slaughter. Not every day you witness a Cybertronian burial at sea.”

“I’ll do me best,” Blackout said, “but Lord Galvatron said to stay back, just in case.”

“Right,” Bonecrusher said, followed by a few minutes of awkward silence as the comm remained open. Eventually Bonecrusher spoke up again, “hey Blackout, can I ask you a question?”

“Alright,” Blackout said.

“Today’s geometry problem…” Bonecrusher said, “it’s a triangle. Each corner is labelled A, B, and C. I’m supposed to find what they add up to. How do you solve it if it’s letters and not numbers?”

“Good question,” Blackout pondered as he hovered in place, “ah, simple! Just make the letters numbers. If A is one, and B is two, and C is three, that makes six! So the triangle is six.”

“You’re really smart!” Bonecrusher said, “makes sense, don’t it? Six is like… three only double, yeah? They’re related.”


“Yeah,” Blackout replied. He was distracted from continuing the conversation when he saw one of the shuttles begin to lurch, writhing in the waves before being pulled under. Blackout reopened the comms with enthusiasm, “he got one! Looks like three Autobots went down with it!”

“Nice!” Bonecrusher said, “what about the others?”

“Three left on the other shuttle,” Blackout said, “they look confused. What I wouldn’t give to have a close-up on their dumb faces.”

“Dumb idiots,” Bonecrusher remarked.

“They’re probably petrified,” Blackout continued, only to be surprised by what he saw, “hold on, one just dived into the water!”

“Loonatic!” Bonecrusher said, “what’s he doin’? Tell me, tell me!”

“I can’t see,” Blackout said, “I’m gonna move in for a closer look.” Blackout tilted his rotor forward and slowly descended. The two remaining Autobots just stared into the water below, occasionally looking back at each other. As he got closer he could hear them arguing loudly over what to do, much to his enjoyment, until their heads turned towards him. He’d been spotted, and a moment later lasers and gunfire populated the air around him. The Autobots shot at him with all the precision he expected, and at this distance he didn’t even have to dodge. They, however, were easy targets. A single missile would at least blow them into the water, but if he unleashed an all-out attack there wouldn’t even be enough left for flotsam. He toyed around with all the ways he could approach the encounter, Galvatron always said that battle is like an art, and that the first brush stroke was what decided the finished masterpiece. Blackout never quite understood what that meant, but he did like being creative.

“I’m gonna chomp ‘em up,” Blackout gleefully declared, “and then drop the bits in the water. That way the ones getting mauled by Octopunch can see their friends one last time.”

“Awww, that’s really nice of you,” Bonecrusher said without a hint of sarcasm. Blackout agreed, and tilted his rotor forward to maximum as he descended on his hapless victims. They still fired, their shots finally coming close enough for Blackout to dodge. The speed, or lack thereof, of his descent caused him to grow impatient, so he switched to robot form and let gravity do the rest. He plummeted feet-first towards the ocean and landed square in the middle of the shuttle. His immense weight nearly plunged the whole vessel beneath the waves, and the two Autobots were almost sent overboard by that alone. Blackout recognized one as Road Rage whom he’d met before, and the other one was with their Leader when Galvatron fought him personally. Blackout didn’t know his name, and didn’t really care.

“Big mistake, tiny,” Road Rage said as she holstered her blaster on her back. The crest on her forehead lowered and unfolded to cover her face, and she leapt towards him. Her foot slipped on the deluge beneath their feet, however, and she ended up grabbing Blackout’s leg just to avoid falling off. Blackout chuckled at her clumsiness, only for the other Autobot to successfully jump towards him in her stead. Blackout intercepted him, grabbing his head in his massive hand and holding him aloft. Autobots were really small, at least all the ones he’d ever met, and he almost felt kind of bad.

“Why are Autobots always so weak?” Blackout asked sincerely, “you’re like toys. Small and delicate. It wouldn’t take much force at all...” he began to squeeze the blue Autobot’s head, and he impotently kicked his legs, pulling at Blackout’s finger’s in a last ditch attempt to save himself. The articulated blocks on his back spun around, revealing gun barrels, and he fired point blank into Blackout’s face. Blackout actually felt that, and raised his left hand to block, only for the red Autobot on his leg to swing herself from his knee pad, kicking at the apex with both legs into his right arm. Blackout lost his grip, and suddenly both Autobots were climbing over him, kicking and punching, pulling at his limbs and head. Blackout began to panic, his eyesight damaged and his already precarious balance compromised on the unstable shuttle, he risked falling into the water. Road Rage punched him repeatedly in the face, the blue Autobot kicking and shooting into the gaps of his armour. Dazed, injured, and enraged, Blackout screamed a deep, guttural roar as he fought through the pain and grabbed each Autobot in either hand. This was no longer fun, it was irritating, and with all his might he slammed the two together. This finally pacified them, and he dropped their near-limp bodies onto the shuttle.

“That’ll teach you…” the blue Autobot said, barely managing to rise to all fours, “to mess with us…”

“Oh yeah,” Road Rage said, struggling to even lift her head, “we got him on the ropes now.”

“Is that a joke?” Blackout asked. The Autobots were clearly beaten, broken, but they were saying things like they had won. Blackout didn’t understand.

“Nah,” the blue Autobot said, still not on his feet, “we have you right where we want you!”

“No you don’t!” Blackout said, incensed. The Autobots gave each other looks, but their faces were covered, and Blackout wondered if they really did have a plan.

“Oh, yeah,” Road Rage said, “Ruiner’s right. You’re as good as dead, Decepticon.”

“No I’m not!” Blackout shouted and stomped his foot in anger, nearly capsizing their platform, “I beat you both up! Really bad! You can’t even stand!”

“Or,” Ruiner said, “are we luring you into a false sense of security?” Blackout’s head began to hurt. They were saying things that didn’t make sense.

“Do we maybe have you cornered?’ Road Rage added, “and you just don’t realize it?”

“No, I’m winning!” Blackout screamed, only to question himself, “aren’t I?” A disturbing silence overcame the three, and Blackout’s processor felt like it was overheating. It didn’t make sense, they weren’t winning at all, at least that’s not what it looked like. Yet they spoke like what they were saying was true, even though it didn’t match what was actually happening, and it made Blackout feel something beyond anger. It made him scared. He looked around, panicked, trying to see if there was something he missed. Were there more Autobots? Did Octopunch fail, and the ones below were moving in to attack? Or did they have air support he hadn’t detected?

“There!” he pointed towards the sky. Sure enough, there was a small speck against the bright blue. It was virtually impossible to make out from there, even with magnification, but it was approaching fast. It was some kind of aircraft, with a clear profile coming into view the closer and larger it got.

“What the hell is that?” Road Rage asked, only to cover her mouth suddenly as she caught her mistake. Blackout looked at her with wide eyes, and finally it all made sense.

I knew it!” he laughed with relief, “you were just tricking me, making me think I was stupid or something!” He pointed at the incoming craft, “Galvatron said you would try to fool me, but I didn’t know you’d try and lie.”

“Do…” Ruiner asked, “do you not know what ‘fool’ means?”

“So you have no reinforcements,” Blackout surmised, “which means that’s probably just some human ship. Did you think humanity would be able to save you?”

“No, don’t!” Road Rage said, “they have nothing to do with this!”

“Too bad,” Blackout leapt into the air and transformed, the torrent from his rotors spraying seawater everywhere, “now you get to watch them die, and the rest of this wet, pathetic planet soon after.” Both Autobots pulled weapons on him as Blackout rapidly ascended, but their shots were weak against his armour even in vehicle mode, and it didn’t slow him down at all. Blackout closed in on the approaching human vessel, realizing it was actually very large. He wondered if it was some kind of heavy bomber or even flying fortress, but its profile was unlike anything he’d seen. Soon it’d be just more junk in the water, and the Decepticon unleashed a volley of missiles towards it. Blackout wanted a nice, big fireball for the Autobots to see, and watched with anticipation as the white trails streaked their way towards their target, followed by the satisfying burst of fire and smoke as they connected. Blackout watched only to have that satisfaction evaporate once the aircraft cut through the smoke and continue on its course towards him. Panicking once more, he switched to robot mode as the massive white and blue vessel collided, draping the Decepticon over its nose as though he were a bug smeared on the windshield.

“What the hell are you?” Blackout cried out in confusion. He struggled to grab hold of the fuselage as he felt himself being pulled off by the inertia, and heard something he didn’t expect.

“I am your superior,” a crisply accented voice said as the nose of the craft extended outwards. Within an instant Blackout was knocked away by the vessel which revealed itself to be some kind of creature, its serpentine neck topped with a maw of teeth that glinted back at him in a cruel smile, “and you are going for a swim, my good lad.” Blackout didn’t even have an instant to react before he was clutched within its jaws, nearly crushed by the incredible force, and unceremoniously tossed with unbelievable strength towards the horizon, all while Road Rage and Ruiner looked on in utter disbelief.

“I’m gonna ask a stupid question,” Ruiner began, “but… did you know that was going to happen?”

“No,” she replied, and he gave her a look. She retracted her faceplate to show her sincerity, “I’m serious! That wasn’t a bit, I genuinely did not know that ship was a… a, uh…”

“The word you're looking for is ‘saviour,’” the creature said, now suddenly right in front of them. Its massive wings were stationary as it hovered via some unseen propulsion which sent waves beneath it, and it had four thick legs each ending in a trio of sharp claws in addition to sake-like tail. Its neck craned back, the inhuman face staring at them as if expecting something, “but you may refer to me as Lieutenant Commander Sky Lynx.”

“What’s a left-tenant?” Ruiner asked.

“I’m detecting five additional party members in the waters below,” Sky Lynx said, ignoring his comment. The creature's limbs retracted as it transformed back into its vehicle mode. It resembled a transwarp shuttle, only beefier with a large underslung component, the side of which slid open as a winged figure appeared. Road Rage was about to ask just what was happening when something breached the water just ahead of them. It was Botanica, held aloft by the emergency ballasts on her back, and she had a very troubled look on her face.

“Decepticon-” she spat water from her mouth to clear her vocal processors, “has the others. They’re being dragged down... I couldn’t do anything-” Road Rage and Ruiner both helped her out of the water, her legless body design making it awkward for her to get herself out.

“Depth Charge,” Sky Lynx ordered, “it’s up to you!”

“On it,” the winged individual leapt from the shuttle’s doorway without a second’s hesitation, plunging straight into the water. Sky Lynx drifted closer to the marooned Autobots as more individuals on board revealed themselves and helped them inside.


*****


“The gravitational field is nearly finished generating,” Straxus reported, bowing as he did, even though Galvatron stood with his back to him. The Decepticon leader continued to examine the projections, going over every calculation to make sure it was accurate. It was not that he did not trust Straxus’ abilities or intellect, he simply did not trust anyone’s abilities, and there was little room for error when dealing with forces and power of this scale. The geological survey data they had acquired, along with their own orbital probes’ data collected over the last few weeks before their public arrival, had narrowed down possible entry points. Galvatron would’ve preferred to use one above sea level, but the energy needed to drill deeper as a result would be too costly. By contrast, simply finding the deepest point of the ocean was unfeasible, with the pressures impossible to operate safely under. That’s when Galvatron came up with this idea, a possibly brilliant solution, if it worked.

“How long will we be able to drill for?” Galvatron asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Approximately four minutes and twenty seconds,” Straxus replied, “with a potential extraction profit of point nine-six percent.”

“Marvelous,” Galvatron smiled, “with that much Nucleon we could continue drilling virtually anywhere we wanted.”

“Perhaps,” Straxus said, and the affront caused Galvatron to clenched his fists on the console. Straxus quickly corrected himself, “what I meant to say, oh mighty lord, is that the energy needed to generate the gravitational field would be quite costly. We’d be dangerous close to the limit.”

“You have to spend money to make money,” Galvatron said, much to Straxus’ confusion. Galvatron relaxed his hands and turned to his second-in-command, smiling warmly, “a human adage. One I learned quite quickly after my interaction with the Autobot, the idea of human customs and proverbs. A fascinating species, exactly like us except they are nothing like us.” He leaned on the control console with one arm, the other on his hip as he looked again at the projections, “without them we wouldn’t be able to move so quickly. I almost feel a debt of gratitude.”

“Yes, of course,” Straxus said, still not seemingly satisfied, “my only concern, if I may be so forward, is the possible vulnerability this would leave us at,” Straxus seemed to swallow his fear and speak in earnest, “to use The Revenge’s gravitational propulsion to create a space in the ocean, and then lower ourselves into drilling position… it should be possible, yes, but if we came under attack and, perish the thought, lost power or had a failure in the gravity generators, we’d be instantly submerged.” He waited to see if Galvatron would reply, then continued on, “to say nothing of the force of an ocean washing over us in an instant, if the Nucleon were to come into contact with that much seawater-”

“Risks-” Galvatron said in a startlingly loud tone, enough to cause Straxus to jump slightly before his voice lowered back to normal, “are a variable we have accounted for. Yes, there is a chance of failure, but even in that scenario it would not be a disaster.” Galvatron turned to look at his first officer, who stood at rigid attention. The Decepticon leader seemed to ponder a moment, before affably holding his hands out, “perhaps to you, Straxus, there is a disparity between the risk and the reward. But I have experienced the power of Nucleon. The gravitational field?” he held his hand out towards the console, “its costs are nothing compared to what we may gain. I must have more if I am to fully explore the limits of this power.”

“If I may, my lord,” Straxus said, his tone notably becoming almost soft, “we are dealing with forces beyond what was previously understood.”

“You are, perhaps,” Galvatron said, “but I understand. I understand completely. Our control tests were conclusive, and I played it safe when I threw hands with the Autobot, but I can feel the boundaries dividing what is and is not possible begin to dissolve with every time I allow the Nucleon to take hold. Perhaps, if you do not fail me, I will allow you a glimpse into this world.”

“Really?” Straxus said, his eyes widening with disbelief, and Galvatron smiled. He turned back to his calculations, Straxus’ question going unanswered, and the Decepticon second was left to gnaw on that mystery.

 

I love that the Decepticons have geometry puzzles, and the focus you've put on Blackout in this chapter. He's like a more down to earth version of Lugnut; less grandiose praise of glory and more "He's great-- he's just great!" The way he roasts Octopunch is funnier than it should've been. I also like the way Bonecrusher says "Loonatic" instead of Lunatic, since it conveys his simple mindedness, and tells you specifically how he's saying the word. That's not sarcasm over what can be perceived as an unintentional misspelling btw, this kind of tactic in prose is used often by authors like Alice Munro quite often actually, and it's neat to see it used here (even if I am reading too deeply and this was me just being neurotic). I'm a fucking lit-snob so this is the kind of stuff I lap up.

I'm interested in Straxus' role in this. I expected him to fill something of a Starscream role, not so much from his actions, and more from routine when it comes to Decepticon lineups- but he seems pretty straightforward in his loyalty to Galvatron.

Fuuuuuck yeeeeeessss.