Transformers: Hellbound (FINISHED)

[PrimeDirective]

Bah.

Neither does fourth-period Algebra.

[Minerva]

Good job! Looking forward to the next chapter!

[Jazz]

Good job man. Lame ending.

[PrimeDirective]

Good job man. Lame ending.

Bah. I needed to set up the next chapter. Remember, they tell a collective story, not individual ones.

[Jazz]

The backstory was good, but the whole chapter just ends really fast I thought. Still, great job. Keep it up.

[PrimeDirective]

Well, I'm not gonna write out a forty-five minute speech, describe every detail of the school, etc.

Besides, you'll ALL get your action fix in the next chapter. Can you feel the tension?

[Jazz]

By tension, if you mean that lump in my chest, then yes, I feel it!

[PrimeDirective]

Everybody keep an eye on this thread! Important plot developments coming in the next chapter! The chapter is pretty much finished, but some dialogue needs tweaking here and there.

[PrimeDirective]

Chapter 9
The air conditioner vainly puffed cool air into the classroom. Spike, Carly, and Trent each sat at different corners of the grid of desks that took the majority of space in the room. Chip sat in his wheelchair, next to the desk closest to the door. The teacher sat at his desk amongst stack of paper, quietly grading the latest test.

Spike glanced at his watch. 4:15. Fifteen more minutes, and he could leave. He gazed lazily out the window, taking in the detail of the outside of the school. He could see the baseball field, empty at this time of year, the football field, where most of the football team was running drills and practices, and the track, where groups of two and three athletes sped past older couples enjoying the fresh air.

He noticed a dark blue and white police car drive slowly, unthreateningly, up the drive toward the parking lot. There was an odd purple symbol painted on the hood, with a slash that ran deep in the metal, albeit not deep enough to expose the engine concealed beneath. Under that symbol was a smaller, red symbol, but Spike was unable to make it out in detail because of the size.

Spike wiped sweat from his brow on the back of his arm. “I don’t get how it can be so hot in October.”

“They said there was a heat wave about to hit,” Carly answered coldly.

Spike glanced at Carly, then shrugged, and returned to his isolation.

“No talking,” the teacher said absently.

Trent belched loudly, and Carly turned toward him, glaring daggers. Trent shrugged at her, and winked suggestively, mouthing, “We gotta get sensational.”

Carly tried not to laugh in shock and at Trent’s bombastic vocabulary, but what he’d meant disgusted her, so she looked away, opened her text book, and began reading.

Chip leaned on the desk he sat next to, propping his head up with one arm and drumming his fingers slowly.

The teacher slammed his hand down on his larger desk, startling the four students in the room. “You’d think that they’d be able to come up with an air conditioner that, y’know, conditions air,” he sighed, shaking his head.

The four students furrowed their brows, shrugged, and returned to their damp stupors.

Carly unzipped the backpack hanging from her chair, produced a sheet of lined paper, and folded it in alternating opposing directions, creating a make-shift fan, and waved it slowly, in wide arcs, in front of her face.

The school phone, located on the wall next to the door, rang; each person checked their own cellular phone before realizing which phone was issuing the noise. The teacher stood and walked to the phone, and answered it.

“Yes. They’re all still here… Oh my God, really? Really? His father? Yeah, okay. I’ll be right down.” He hung the phone back on the hook and turned to face Spike, Carly, Chip, and Trent.

“Well, the famed Sparkplug,” the teacher sneered, “is here to rescue Son.”

Trent laughed. The others shot him glares. The teacher looked pleased with himself.

“Everybody get your things. I need you to follow me quietly and orderly, IF you can manage.”

All four students groaned, and all but Chip reached to grab their bags and hoisted them up on their backs. Chip’s bag hung from the back of his wheelchair, as it was normally. They filed out the door one at a time, and the teacher flicked off the lights and shut the door behind him.

Chip stopped halfway down the hall at the elevator, which opened immediately after the “down” button was depressed. The other four continued on, marching down the warm hall, then down the main stairway beneath large skylights, through which sunlight poured mostly unhindered and contributed to the uncomfortable temperatures.

Chip met them at the bottom. They could already hear Sparkplug Witwicky shouting angrily at someone.

They rounded a corner, where they found Sparkplug standing in the main office, the door thrown wide open, red-faced and gesticulating wildly and rapidly. “So you’re telling me my son is being punished for defending himself?” he said indignantly. “If anything, you should be punishing the other guy for starting the fight in the first place!” He pounded his palm onto the counter, causing the three secretaries attending the office to jump. Sparkplug turned and exited the office, stopping within an inch of the teacher.

“So you’re the ass hole whose decision it was to put Spike in time-out for standing up for himself and his handicapped friend,” he said, jabbing his forefinger angrily into the teacher’s chest.

“Mr. Witwicky, this school does not allow physical conflict of any kind on these premises.”

“My son was not at fault.” Sparkplug pointed at Trent. “This is the one that instigated the whole thing, right? Why not put his in in-school suspension or something? Surely you have something like that?”

“Mr. Witwicky, I can tell you with confidence, I saw strikes being thrown from both sides. If I were to put one of these kids in ISS, I’d have to put them all in ISS.”

“Strikes from both sides, eh? Well, prove it. I know my son. He wouldn’t throw a punch unless somebody was really going to get hurt. Throwing Chip out of his wheelchair might hurt him, but it wouldn’t be enough to get Spike to throw a punch.”

The teacher sighed. “Fine. I’ll see if security’s got the tapes. We’ll see who’s right then.” With that, the teacher turned and rounded a corner, disappearing from sight.

“This is bull,” Sparkplug said.

“Dad…”

“I mean, you can’t punish someone for sticking up for someone else!”

“Dad…”

“Seriously! I mean it!”

“DAD!”

“What?”

“I think you’re over-exaggerating. I mean, first, it’s I’m defending Chip, then it’s I’m not doing anything.”

“Well, what did you do?”

“Dad, I didn’t touch the guy,” Spike explained.

“The guy? I’m right here, you moronic monkey!” Trent said, a smug smile on his face, clearly happy with himself.

Spike, Chip, Carly, and Sparkplug all gave him a weird look, then returned to the issue at hand.

“Yeah, Mr. Witwicky. I stepped in to try and stop them from fighting, but Trent just spilled me out into the walkway,” Chip added.

“And I slapped him,” Carly said.

Spike turned to Carly. “You didn’t have to. I mean… I could have.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t…”

“What if I did?” Spike said, smiling broadly.

“You mean… No, Spike! Don’t take the blame. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“I got myself involved, Carly,” Spike said. “I’ll tell your dad that it was my fault, ‘cause it was. I’ll tell him I hit Trent, but the teacher didn’t believe it, because I’m usually a timid guy.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Spike, my father has only the highest expectations for me, both academically and in conduct. I have to face up to the consequences, even if it means I can’t go to the dance… I’ll have to return my dress.”

“Oh, can we cut the crap? Carly, you know you want me, and me only” Trent chimed in.

The four others looked over at Trent, and in unison, said, “Shut up, Trent.”

Spike looked back at Carly. “I know you wanted to really impress everybody. I know how much it means to you, and I want you to go.”

“Spike, that’s really sweet, but I can’t let you take all the blame…”

“So now it’s all the blame?” Spike smiled. “So you admit it’s not all your fault.”

“You just did the same,” Carly said.

Spike moved closer to Carly. “Look, I’ll take care of it.” He glanced over at the glass entry hall. “I’ll take my car… My car… My car...” Spike trailed off.

“Oh my God… My car!” Spike shouted, shoving everybody out of the way as his own car smashed through the front glass doors, sending shards flying. The car rolled in the air before hitting the ground, rolling once more, and slammed hard into a brick wall. One wheel fell off.

“Jesus,” Sparkplug said, climbing back to his feet.

“What on Earth?” Chip said.

Carly pointed out through the now-gaping hole. “Look!” she said in terror.

Outside, a tall, slender figure loomed maliciously. The details were mostly washed out by the harsh sunlight, but Spike could see that it was mostly green, with some lighter green and some brown. A wicked hook gleamed at the end of one arm. Glowing red eyes glared directly at the five humans. It vaguely resembled the spiky muscle car Spike had seen earlier in the day.

Trent let out a high-pitched scream and bolted toward the cafeteria. Spike let his glance follow for a moment before he returned his attention to the monster, which was now stooping to enter the front doors.

“Good God, what is that?”

“I am a bounty hunter,” the thing answered. He pointed at Chip, coming into the main lobby of the building. “And you have something I want.”

Spike and Chip glanced at each other. “The laptop…” Their eyes widened.

Spike could feel the vibrations pulsing through the ground with each step the monster took. He could see the spinning and churning mechanisms inside the monster’s metal armor. He could smell the exhaust fumes emanating from inside it.

The monster seemed to well up like the ocean in front of the terrified humans, like an inevitable disaster waiting for the perfect moment to occur.

“Lockdown!” said a gruff voice from behind. Suddenly, the monster was tackled to the ground beside the humans by another monster. This one was white with dark blue stripes, and…

“Protect and Serve?” Spike read incredulously. The police motto was printed plainly on the new monster’s wings, which highly resembled the doors on the police car he’d seen earlier. The blue glow of its eyes was almost reassuring.

The first monster slammed its elbow into the face of the second, knocking it away. Spike could now see the purple symbol with the slash through it, and the tiny red symbol below it, on the monster’s chest. The second monster stood, spat what looked like oil onto the floor, and launched itself into the air, executing a jump kick like a master of some martial art.

The first monster blocked the kick with its hook arm, and then let off a few rounds with the machine gun mounted on its other arm. The second monster leapt effortlessly over the ammunition, landing lightly on his feet and dropping to the ground. It spun, delivering a roundhouse kick directly to the first monster’s feet, knocking it off balance.

“It’s been a long time Prowl,” the first monster said, flashing a menacing smile.

“Not long enough if you ask me, scum,” the second responded, before directing its attention to the frightened humans, who had backed against the wall in a huddle. “Run!”

Spike felt his heart leap into his throat. The monster had spoken to him! It had said something… something… Then it registered in Spike’s mind, and he was instantly bounding off toward around the corner, pulling Carly and Chip along with him.

He lost his grip on Chip’s wheelchair and fell against the ground hard. He looked back, hearing Chip’s screams, and gasped when he saw the first monster- the evil monster, he decided- grasping the metal rods in the back of the chair, pulling Chip back toward it.

“You didn’t really expect you’d be getting away with this?” it growled, letting out a condescending laugh.

The monster tore away the outer pocket of Chip’s backpack, spilling folders and papers, before ripping out the laptop, holding it carefully in his cold, alien fingers. It promptly let go of the wheelchair, and Chip hurdled forward, pulled along by Sparkplug. The four humans shook with fright, wide-eyed, huddled around the corner.

Prowl shook his head. “Nobody ever keeps running,” he griped.

Spike took one tentative step toward the evil monster, Carly grasping desperately on his sleeve. “Give that back! There’s nothing on there that you need!”

Sparkplug turned to Chip. “What’s he doing?”

“Well, sir,” Chip said, hesitantly, “We kind of… hacked a Blackrock Industries transmission.”

“You- you what?”

“I did it. That’s why we didn’t see Trent coming. We were going to ask Blackrock himself about it, and he just… snuck up on us.”

“But what does that have to do with monsters or whatever the hell this is?”

“The transmission said something about valuable experimental technology or something. Maybe that’s why that thing wants it. And it looks to me like the other one really doesn’t want him to get it.”

Sparkplug turned back to look at his son. “Oh my God. My son’s an idiot hero!”

“Who’s gonna make me?” the evil monster sneered.

A flash of yellow and a burst of air marked the entrance of a third monster. This one flipped nimbly, lightly grabbing the laptop away from the first. The yellow monster took a defensive stance in front of the humans.

“You’ll have to go through me first!” it shouted.

A roundhouse kick to the face sent the yellow monster, which was smaller than the other two, sprawling to the ground, gingerly guarding the laptop in its hands. The white monster grabbed the evil one from behind, and tossed it into the stature of the school mascot, shattering the marble figure of a roman soldier.

Carly yanked Spike back to relative safety, and they embraced. Carly quickly realized what was happening, and backed away, blushing.

The evil monster leapt to its feet immediately, and, as the yellow monster rushed at it, grabbed under his chest with its hook, and tossed the yellow monster aside.

“Bumblebee, get them out of here!” the white monster commanded.

The yellow monster sighed, and rolled away from the green monster, ducking agilely beneath another blow with the claw. He stopped in front of the humans, facing the gaping hole where the glass doors had once stood, and moved.

But it didn’t move in the traditional sense. Millions of pieces, segments, and parts rotated, shifted, flipped, and spun, and the monster transformed- literally transformed!- right before their very eyes. This monster, this alien, this… whatever it was, had taken the shape of a yellow sports car with black racing stripes, and that red symbol like the one on the white monster tampographed in several places.

The passenger door opened by itself, and the seat leaned forward. “Get in!” it said.

Spike hesitated. He had no idea what was going on. It was all so confusing. It was pure chaos!

“Well, I’d rather go with the one that may discreetly want to kill us than the one that wants to do it openly!” Sparkplug decided, helping Chip into the back seat. The trunk popped open, and Spike jumped forward, folding the chair and placing it inside. He noticed the laptop sitting undamaged on the floor a few feet away, realized the yellow monster must’ve sat it down before attacking the green one, dove for it, and grasped it firmly.

The driver’s side door opened, and Spike jumped in, buckling his seat belt as the door shut itself. He passed the laptop back to Chip, who took it, nodding gratefully, and then buckled himself.

“Everybody have their seatbelts on?” the monster asked. When nobody answered, it said, “Just kidding! I know you all do! Get ready, you’re all in for a wild ride!”

With that, the monster screeched off, leaving black tire marks on the faux-marble floor, and all four humans felt themselves being pressed backwards against their seats. The engine gunned dramatically, and the monster raced out through the doors into the red sunlight.

Prowl lunged forward, swinging himself around Lockdown’s leg, and sighed in relief as Bumblebee disappeared from sight. He swept around, bowling the bounty hunter over.

Lockdown clambered to his feet, brushed himself off with his good hand, and glared at Prowl. “Looks like I’ll have to deal with you before completing the job after all. That’s a first.”

“Here’s another first: you’re not gonna get that chance!” Prowl leapt into the air, landing a flying kick at the center of Lockdown’s chest plate, which had been the roof of his vehicle mode.

Lockdown grunted. “I got a few tricks up my sleeve!” Lockdown’s feet lifted into the air, pulling the rest of his body with him, slamming into Prowl and knocking the Autobot to the ground.

Lockdown put his entire weight on Prowl’s chest, causing his superstructure to groan in protest. Prowl grasped at Lockdown’s ankle, trying to jerk it away, to get free, but Lockdown pressed harder, using the ceiling for leverage.

The ceiling… Prowl’s optics widened as the thought came to him. The hissing of fuel igniting came like nails on a chalkboard to Lockdown’s audio receptors, but he was too slow to prevent the missile launching from Prowl’s shoulder launcher and screeching up past him, destroying much of the ceiling above. Desks and chairs fell through the hole, scattering pencils, erasers, and other objects all around the floor.

Lockdown balled his normal hand into a fist as Prowl leapt to his feet, using the momentum to increase his own punch’s force. Prowl jerked his head to the side, barely dodging the blow and countering with a knee to Lockdown’s torso, knocking the bounty hunter aside.

Prowl begrudgingly grabbed Lockdown by the head, and brought him to optic-level. “I’ve had enough of you.” Prowl produced a pistol from a compartment on his hip, and jabbed it into Lockdown’s neck.

“You don’t have the guts. You lost your spark back when you quit the ‘Cons, and you know it,” Lockdown taunted.

Enraged, Prowl fingered the trigger, mulling over his options. He shouted in frustration, and tossed Lockdown across the lobby, leapt atop him, and pounded fist after fist into Lockdown’s armor, denting metal and sending sparks flying.

Lockdown grunted with each blow, feeling it deep inside his spark. He half-coughed, half-laughed at the Autobot’s anger and frustration. “You never were much of an Autobot. They’re all too idealistic for you. They’re all about the setup, but you… You’re more interested in the punch line. You’re much more Decepticon about your goals. I like that.”

Prowl brought down his fist hard on Lockdown’s wrist, severing the massive hook. “I am nothing like those monsters!”

Lockdown coughed again, this time with a wheeze. “Oh, but you are. Just look at my arm.”

Taken aback, Prowl gazed down at the shattered wrist, horrified. “No… I didn’t… No…” He staggered backwards, stopping against a brick support pillar. “I couldn’t have…”

“Looks to me like you’re still struggling with those tendencies Megatron drilled into you way back during the Quintesson War,” Lockdown taunted, still lying on the ground.

Wordlessly and silently, Prowl launched himself at Lockdown, slamming his foot into the bounty hunter’s face. Prowl stood still for a moment, waiting for Lockdown to move again, or utter more of his blasphemy, but the lanky Cybertronian laid silent and unmoving. The panels over his optics were shut tightly, preventing Prowl from seeing if they were lit or darkened.

Prowl shifted his gaze downward, staring at his open hands, dropping the pistol to the ground. He sighed regretfully. “That wasn’t the Autobot way…” He picked up the pistol, re-holstered it, and faced the shattered doorway. Prowl converted into his vehicular form, and somberly started after Bumblebee.

*****

The roar of the yellow monster’s engine softened as it slowed, merging with Archer’s pre-rush hour traffic. Spike marveled at the interior. The seats were a soft, neutral gray fabric, and the dash was a similar color. But everything was so clean, like it was a real brand-new car.

“So,” Spike said.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” the monster asked.

“Do you have a name?” Chip asked from the back seat.

“The name’s Bumblebee,” the monster asked.

“I got one,” Sparkplug said. “What the hell are you?”

“I am an Autobot. We’re here to protect you from things like the freak at the school.”

“What’s an Autobot?” Spike asked.

“I’ll let the big bot explain.”

“The big bot?” said Carly.

“Yeah, our leader.”

“Can you at least tell us where you’re taking us?” Carly asked.

“Well, I’m taking you to the junkyard, to see the big bot. To see Optimus Prime.”

*****

The junk yard was a large area contained in the industrial park. The multitudes of rusted objects cast a red glow upon the patches of dried and dying grass and the molding, rotten wooden fence. The mountainous piles of debris were easily large enough to hide multiple large vehicles, and Bumblebee knew that they did as he drove through the open gate, the chain already shattered. Prowl followed seconds after.

Bumblebee slowly rounded a pile of junk, revealing a dark red Hummer, a white Japanese sports car with red and blue striping and a black “4” centered on either door, a white and red ambulance, and a red and blue long-nose semi-truck. The semi-truck’s trailer was unattached, but stood nearby, gray with white and blue stripes, and that red alien symbol embossed on both sides.

Bumblebee slowed to a stop in front of his allies, opened his doors and trunk, and let the humans inside exit. Sparkplug hoisted Chip into his wheelchair, and all four humans gave the yellow Autobot room to convert into his humanoid, true form. Prowl was already standing behind them.

Suddenly, the four vehicles in front of the humans began the same process of shifting, hundreds of millions of shifting and rotating pieces, all moving in perfectly ordered chaos.

The small Japanese sports car stood first. This one stood taller than Bumblebee, but around the same height as Prowl. Spike could make out the grille and headlight on the Autobot’s chest, doors as wing-like structures, much like Bumblebee and Prowl, with the lower wheels located on the ankle. The head was mostly black, with triangular structures stretching vertically upwards on both sides, comparable to ears in humans. Instead of the normal two glowing “eyes”, this one had one glowing visor. Beneath the visor, the Autobot smiled confidently.

The next to rise was the ambulance. Red medical crosses adorned both shoulders, and a red chevron rose from the round, white head. The windshield became the chest, and underneath, Spike could see medical tools similar to those used on Earth. This one smiled in a friendly manner.

The red Hummer struggled up, cursing in its native language. “Leakin’ lubricants! Can’t hardly even transform!” This one possessed wheels in its upper arms, as well as large cannons attached to the lower arms. It wore the front bumper like armor on its chest. Its rounded head resembled a Roman soldier’s helmet. This one didn’t smile, only grimace.

Finally, the semi-truck stood. The front windows were displayed prominently on its chest. Spike could see the two halves of the hood reinforcing the armor on both arms. The chrome smokestacks stood attached to the back of each shoulder. The red alien symbol was embossed on one. The legs were long and slender, almost muscular-looking. The head possessed similar structure to the white one on both sides, but longer, more elongated. The mouth was covered by a three plates converging from three angles. This one conveyed an air or majesty, leadership, and reassurance.

It looked straight at Bumblebee, speaking in Cybertronian. He didn’t seem angry, only stern.

Bumblebee issued a whining noise, obviously a protest.

The large Autobot turned his head to Prowl, and asked what seemed to be a question.

Prowl said nothing, only nodded.

The large Autobot turned to face the blood-red setting sun. It seemed to contemplate something.

“Whoa, whoa,” Spike said. “Slow down. What did Bumblebee do wrong?”

The large Autobot turned to him, kneeling down, coming face-to-face. Its mouthplate retracted. “Quienes son?” it said.

“Um… what?” Spike replied.

“Pardon me,” it said. “I am unfamiliar with the cultures and geographical locations of Earth’s peoples. According to my databanks, ‘what,’ is a word in the English language, is this correct?” It spoke precisely, swiftly.

“Yeah.”

“I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. This is First Lieutenant Jazz,” Optimus said, gesturing toward the white Autobot. Jazz back-flipped and sat casually on the hood of a rusted car. “This is Weapons Expert Ironhide.” Ironhide simply grunted. “Our medic Ratchet.” Ratchet raised a hand and nodded. “You are already familiar with Bumblebee and Prowl, our reconnaissance team.”

“Uh… right.”

“Who are you, young human?”

“My name is Spike Witwicky. My friend in the wheelchair is Chip Chase. The girl is Carly… uh…” Spike turned to Carly, who simply shook her head. “Right,” Spike continued, “and the adult is my father, Ron Witwicky.”

“Sparkplug!” Sparkplug corrected.

“Sparkplug Witwicky. Whatever,” Spike said, rolling his eyes.

“Spike Witwicky, our purpose here is to destroy Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, before he can be reactivated and lead his army to victory on our home planet, Cybertron. Our second priority was to leave all humans uninvolved with our conflict. It is our fight and our fight alone; you may leave if you wish, but you must promise that you will not alert your authorities to our location,” Optimus Prime explained.

“Bu- but I have the laptop,” Spike said, holding up the small computer. “That thing the other guy wanted.”

“Yes. According to Decepticon transmissions listened to by Prowl and Bumblebee, that is the computer that intercepted the message from Blackrock Industries, Limited, containing information about Megatron’s whereabouts and plans for shipping. We are to stop the transport and retrieve the body of Megatron before it enters any major human settlements.”

“Okay… I have to ask, who’s Megatron?” Spike asked.

Prime straightened up. “Megatron is, as designated before, the leader of the Decepticons. The Decepticons are our enemies. Civil War has ravaged my planet for thousands of years, but we managed to send Megatron to an unspecified location in the universe using experimental technology.”

“Let me guess,” Spike said. “That location ended up being Earth.”

“You are correct,” Prime said. “And now several Decepticons are here to locate Megatron’s body and reactivate him to lead them to victory.”

“But you said Megatron was their leader. How are they doing anything without a leader?”

“Megatron’s lieutenant, Starscream, has led the Decepticons since the Battle of Iacon, when Megatron was sent here. He at first proved more effective than Megatron, masterminding one final push to take Cybertron. However, this ‘final push’ became many stalemates, and the threat of mutiny from his own Decepticons and politics amongst Decepticon-supporting civilians forced Starscream to locate Megatron. His findings led us here.”

“Okay, okay. I understand. But what I want to know is why Megatron’s so bad, and why the whole war is going.”

“And I will oblige,” Optimus said, before sitting and beginning the tale of the dawn of the War.

[Minerva]

Keep up the good work!

[Jazz]

Good job! loved the fight scene between Prowl and Lockdown. Lockdown is still alive, right?

[PrimeDirective]

Yeah, but Starscream won't be pleased.

[PrimeDirective]

Chapter 10
Cybertron shimmered beautifully, silver with some specks of golden cities. Rivers of glowing yellow liquid Energon made their way peacefully from the highlands, down through the valleys, and into spacious caverns beneath the Rust Desert, before finally dropping in spectacular falls, deep into the Great Rift, down into the heart of Cybertron itself, where they would bubble up once more in the multitudes of springs, beginning the cycle again.

In the gleaming metropolis of Iacon, sprawling apartment complexes rose high into the air. The great walls encircling the city stood strong and tall, freshly repaired after the end of the Quintesson War. The domed Senate stood like a victorious symbol of democracy.

In one apartment building, Orion Pax sat at a desk, lamp positioned to shine directly onto the small, sandy object he held in one hand. Orion Pax was an average-sized Cybertronian, with red arms, hands, and torso, and blue legs and head. His head was shaped like the inside of an arch, with friendly eyes that had a reassuring quality to them. At the moment, they were concentrated intently on the piece of history before him.

Pax’s study was dark aside from the light, which was barely enough to light the room. The dark gray metal walls seemed almost black in the dancing shadows. Data tracks littered the walls in haphazard stacks. At the edge of his desk hung a data file labeled “Top Priority” and below that, “To Orion, from Megatron.” The hologram inside was a recording of Megatron requesting that Pax delve deeper into the history of the Cybertronian Civil War.

A small rotating sander extending from his left index finger, and he tenderly chipped away at the sand-blasted rock. If he was correct, the object inside would bear an inscription detailing the leader of the legendary Original Thirteen. Some sources indicated Vector Prime, while tradition and other sources pointed to Prima, wielder of the Star Saber.

A tone played throughout the apartment, and he could hear Ariel, who would later become Elita One, pause her holographic soap opera. There was a slight squeak as her chair rotated automatically toward the door. Light footsteps as she glided gracefully through the living room. A low hiss as the airlock door slid open.

He could hear a low voice, but was unable to make out what it was saying. The he heard Ariel call, “Orion! Alpha Trion is here to see you!”

Pax sighed, and tapped a button on the chair’s arm. The chair rotated 180 degrees and slid to the door, which retracted into the wall with a hiss. Pax stood, and entered the living room.

The living room was a conservatively-furnished area. Against one wall, on a small stand, was the hologram generator, its image frozen on an actor pierced by ammunition rounds from a pistol, in the arms of his loved one. Ariel sat, legs crossed, in one chair positioned at an angle from the hologram projector. Adjacent was a seat with room for two average-sized Cybertronians, occupied by Alpha Trion and his apprentice, the renowned prophet Emirate Xaaron. Pax nodded graciously and took a seat in the other chair, opposite a small table from Ariel. On this table, mugs of fresh Energon steamed welcomingly.

Alpha Trion was one of the oldest Cybertronians still alive, and it showed. His body was cloaked in red ceremonial garments with neutral purple trim. His gray face and hands were all of his body that remained visible, and they were marked by millennia of weathering. Every corner and edge was rounded. Lines of erosion marked his face. A light, loose white appendage hung from his chin. A matching cone-shaped hat adorned his head.

Emirate Xaaron was mostly yellow with a plain body: rectangular chest and torso, boot-like lower legs, and shoulders bearing the apprentice armor. His upper legs were silver, as was his head, the top of which resembled a crown.

Alpha Trion nodded elegantly, long fingers folded in his lap. Xaaron simply gazed inquisitively at Pax.

“Alpha Trion, it is an honor to have you as a guest in our humble home,” Orion Pax said.

“Let us dispense with the formalities, my friend. We have known each other for several millennia now,” Trion responded, smiling kindly.

“What brings you here?” Orion Pax asked, leaning forward.

“Sentinel Prime died last night.”

Ariel and Pax both focused their gazes on the ancient Cybertronian. “What?” Ariel gasped.

“The fourteenth Bearer of the Matrix of Leadership, Sentinel Prime, was killed overnight. His body was discovered this morning by a maintenance worker investigating malfunctioning security,” Alpha Trion explained.

“Who would’ve done such a thing?” said Pax.

The reply was swift and prompt. “Megatron.”

Pax looked incredulously at Cybertron’s religious leader. “Megatron? I know they disagree on the subject of the Creation Matrix, but Megatron’s a political idealist, not a murderer.”

Alpha Trion gazed forlornly into Orion Pax’s eyes.

“You didn’t come here to tell us that,” Pax said.

“Indeed. Sentinel Prime foresaw Megatron’s attack and left this in my quarters.” With one hand, Alpha Trion produced something that made Orion Pax’s jaw drop in awe. The Matrix of Leadership was a hollow golden sphere with a hole cut out of the front. A silver oval ring encircled the Matrix, with four holes in thicker parts on either side. From inside the hole, a brilliant blue crystal shimmered and sparkled, bathing the room in dancing blue light. It hung from a chain around the ancient’s neck.

“The Matrix of Leadership has brought my apprentice and I to its next holder; it has chosen you, Optimus Prime.”

“Optimus Prime?” Pax said. He held out his hand in refusal and shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly… This must be some sort of mistake. I’m… just an archaeologist.”

“And Sentinel Prime was but a custodian at the Senate,” Alpha Trion said.

Pax retracted his hand. “Even if it is true, I’m not ready.”

“Very well,” Alpha Trion said, replacing the Matrix inside his cloak. “But you must accompany Emirate Xaaron and I to the Senate. Megatron may very well now be declaring me a traitor.”

Pax agreed, saying goodbye to Ariel, and then walking with Alpha Trion and Emirate Xaaron through the airlock door, to the building transport. Pax pressed a button, and the titanium doors slid open, revealing a small, plain room. After the three were safely inside the room, Pax pressed another button inside the room, and the doors shut, and he could feel himself moving down, then sideways, then down again, before finally coming to a stop. The door opened, revealing the bustling city streets.

As they walked, they passed many nervous citizens making their way to their jobs on foot. Pax said, “I still don’t understand what makes you think Megatron killed Sentinel Prime.”

“According to Senator Cerebros, Megatron believes that the Matrix of Leadership can lead him to the Creation Matrix,” Alpha Trion explained. “I was told that Megatron suggested that to him along with the Senators Emirate Xeon of Kaon and Tomaandi of Tyger Pax. The Senator from Uraya was fiercely opposed to any measures to secure the Creation Matrix, due to his city’s dependence on the Energon refining industry.”

“I still don’t see Megatron being a murderer,” Pax protested.

Alpha Trion sighed. “I know you wish to believe that your friend Megatron is still the same idealist that attended Iacon University with you, but the truth is that Megatron no longer exists. He has been consumed by his obsession with the Creation Matrix, and his search has taken him into the realm of extremism. He believes that with the Creation Matrix back in the possession of Cybertron, our race could expand and imperialize.”

“That sounds too much like the Quintessons. Megatron was disgusted by them, you know that.”

“Indeed. But some become that which they have fought against for so long. The Quintesson War began five thousand years ago and only ended a few months ago. Their power, organization, and influence have intoxicated him, and he wishes to hold similar power under his fingers.”

“We’ll see,” Pax said, as they arrived at their destination and entered through the ornate double-doors of the Senate. Guards on either side parted and nodded curtly to the Cybertron High Priest and his apprentice, as well as their guest.

Orion Pax gazed at the structure around him, scanning every detail, every line, every corner, and every nick. The entire building was constructed of gold, with silver trim here and there. Ornate statues of every Matrix Bearer since Prima himself stood in the main hallway encircling the inner chamber, where the Senators sat at shining desks bearing the symbol of their represented city. Arches on both ground-level and raised higher allowed entrance to the Senate chamber, with elegant silver staircases giving access to the higher entrances. The whitish-gray daylight bending through the majestically-decorated glass doors and windows was enough to illuminate the hall, so no interior lights were on.

Besides, Pax thought, every light in the inner chamber was sure to be shining brightly.

They passed beneath a golden arch leading to the inner chamber, entering the small area reserved for Cerebros, the Senator of Iacon. A silver u-shaped desk encircled the space, with several seats inside it, arranged in three rows of three. The gray and black senator sat in the upper right seat. Alpha Trion sat in the seat directly to Cerebros’s, and gestured for Pax to take the next seat. He did as instructed, and Emirate Xaaron sat directly behind his master.

The senators from every city on Cybertron sat at similar desks arranged in circles on varying levels. Directly opposite from Cerebros’s desk, Megatron had taken a podium within the circle of Senators, and was gesticulating grandly, as he always did when making important political speeches. Imperial Guard Commander Starscream sat smugly next to him, arms crossed.

“Megatron has just declared you a traitor, Alpha Trion,” Cerebros said grimly. “He says you stole the Matrix of Leadership and killed Sentinel Prime in an effort to gain control over the government. He is now trying to convince the Senate to send a small army to your temple to burn it to the ground and execute each of your monks for treason.”

Alpha Trion sighed glumly. “The lights are going out all across Cybertron. I shall not see them lit again in my lifetime.”

“It is natural,” Megatron declared, “nay, our duty, to avenge the loss of Sentinel Prime. I beg of you, friends, to prohibit this injustice to continue. If Alpha Trion is allowed to continue on his perverse path, he will bring our children, and our children’s children with him.” Many senators stood and clapped, showing their agreement. “With the Matrix of Leadership he stole, we may find the lost Creation Matrix, and restore Cybertron to its former glory!” Many more senators joined the first group, applauding enthusiastically.

Megatron’s head suddenly jerked toward the Iacon desk with efficiency. “And here he is!” Megatron shouted, “The traitor himself! Orion, my friend, stand and execute him where he stands! End this cycle of treachery!”

Orion Pax stood, unbelieving. He shook his head, confused. He looked at Megatron, holding his hand upward in a dramatic pose. He looked at Alpha Trion sitting calmly next to him. He could feel the pull of the Matrix of Leadership from inside the ancient’s cloak. He felt his spark throb. Not a word was spoken for what seemed like hours, but it could have only been a few seconds when Megatron continued: “Well?” he growled impatiently.

Pax turned to his friend. “No.”

“WHAT?” Megatron snarled indignantly.

“I said no,” Pax replied coolly.

“Who are you, Orion Pax, to defy me? To defy the one who is, at least for now, the one and only ruler of Cybertron?”

“I am not Orion Pax,” Orion replied.

“Then who are you?” Megatron questioned.

Pax let out a calming burst of air, and then turned and quickly reached into Alpha Trion’s cloak, grabbed the Matrix, and ripped it from its chains.

Immediately, Pax’s entire body began to glow a bright blue light, forcing all in the room to avert their eyes. Megatron held his arm in front of his face, blocking most of the rays, but watching in fear and awe as Orion Pax transformed. Pax’s body expanded, growing taller and wider. Cylinders extended from his shoulders. His head became more streamlined, gaining tall, thin ear-like appendages. His chest flattened and split in the center, coming together at an angle and forming clear panels that revealed the workings of the systems just inside his chest. The glow faded, revealing the extent of Pax’s transformation. Several senators gasped, and Starscream leaned forward at the edge of his seat curiously.

Pax’s chest opened at hinges located on the sides of his body, swinging outward. Another, gray panel swung downward, revealing a chamber that was the perfect size and shape for the Matrix of Leadership to be contained within. He inserted the Matrix into the chamber, and the panels shut and immediately, he could feel the energy of the Matrix coursing through his circuitry. He held the wisdom his forebears possessed. And he could hear each and every one of their voices calling to him from within the golden sphere: “Stop Megatron at all costs!”

“I am Optimus Prime, fifteenth Bearer of the Matrix of Leadership,” Pax declared, taking a step forward, “and I ask that you step down, Megatron.”

“Well, Optimus Prime,” Megatron mocked, “I’m impressed by the transformation, but I’m afraid I must refuse.”

“Then, as my duty as Matrix Bearer, I must enact the will of Primus. Megatron, I will stop this before it begins,” Optimus Prime said.

Megatron smashed the desk aside and launched himself forward, tackling Prime and sending the seats behind him scattering.

Prime extended his legs quickly, kicking Megatron back onto the floor. He stood, as Cerebros, Alpha Trion, and Emirate Xaaron scrambled to the hallway.

“Make no mistake, senators!” Optimus declared. “It was your beloved Megatron who killed Sentinel Prime!” Several senators gasped at the revelation.

“It was my right!” Megatron retorted. “The Primes have kept this world from its true glory! With the Creation Matrix, I will lead Cybertron in expanding its empire across the galaxy!”

“No, Megatron. The Originals followed Primus’s orders when they got rid of the thing. You know that.”

“That’s only a legend! Primus would not damn his children to such a sub-par existence!”

“Sub-par?” Prime said incredulously. “Look around you, Megatron. This entire building is constructed of two of the most valuable metals in all existence! Look at the buildings in our cities, and see how far they reach into the sky! Watch the Energon rivers flow across our planet! This planet is the perfect place for us to exist! We have everything we could possibly need and more.”

“But look at what can be accomplished with such energy. Look at the Quintessons, and how much they achieved for their own race. The same can become reality for us, for our entire race!”

“You would wish such torture on other planets for our own gain? And, in doing so, you would truly disobey the word of Primus, which is our law?” Prime said, unbelieving.

“The word of Primus? Don’t make me laugh, Optimus Prime. The word of Primus to Prima was to ensure our prosperity so that we may succeed in the face of our ultimate destiny, whatever that may be.”

“And our prosperity was hindered by the greed inspired in individuals of our race by the Creation Matrix. It was launched for the good of Cybertron.”

“Don’t give me your ‘greater good’ lecture. The Creation Matrix will bring about the good of all, not just the majority.”

“You don’t know that, Megatron. I can see flashes of it coming from within the Matrix of Leadership, of the war that it brought about.”

“With proper safeguarding, the Creation Matrix can be withheld from those who would use it for such selfish purposes.”

“Megatron, you have proven that you would use it for such selfish purposes.”

“It seems our debate will continue to infinity. Let us resolve this as they do in Kaon- in battle!”

“No, Megatron! War is not a proper resolution to this issue. We are above this!”

“Apparently not,” Megatron said coldly, before shoving Starscream from his seat and tossing the chair at Optimus.

Prime reached over his shoulder, grabbing one of the two silver cylinders there and producing a large battle axe. The long thin shaft gleamed silver, and the massive blade immediately heated up, glowing orange. Optimus Prime sliced through the metal chair expertly and effortlessly, the two halves gliding lightly to either side of him.

Megatron laughed menacingly. “I see you have already found your weapon. Every Prime has one.” Megatron’s own arm began to shift, each of the millions of parts folding, rotating, and contracting to reveal an elongated sphere covered in spikes. “It took Sentinel a while to find this.” The flail fell from Megatron’s wrist, suspended by a chain. As the flail also began to heat up, it began to issue a purple light, once majestic but corrupted by Megatron’s influence.

Optimus took a step back. “You- you stole Sentinel Prime’s flail?”

“Yes,” Megatron growled. “Sometime overnight. It installed fairly simply and easily.”

“You really have become a monster,” Prime gasped.

“Maybe in your eyes,” Megatron retorted, “but in reality, I am this planet’s savior!” Megatron jumped gracefully forward, flipping and bringing the flail down hard. Optimus Prime dodged nimbly, and the flail smashed into the floor, sending shrapnel flying, piercing slightly into several nearby senators’ exoskeletons.

Megatron ripped the flail from the floor, and brought it down again for another blow, but it was blocked by Prime’s axe. Megatron tried again, chrome chain clinking, but this attempt yielded the same result.

As the two struggled against each other, Prime lashed out with his foot, striking Megatron in the side and sending him cart wheeling into the chamber floor. The chamber was filled with the alarmed chattering of the frightened senators as they pushed past one another through the arches into the exterior hall.

Optimus leaped onto the floor, as his axe’s blade folded in several places and he replaced it on his shoulder. “Megatron, please, forget your extremist ideas and abandon this play for power!” Prime said, chest heavy. “Step down, and you will be pardoned, I promise you.”

Megatron glared at Optimus for a moment as he climbed back to his feet, mulling it over. “No.” He lunged forward, ramming Optimus with his head. Optimus stumbled backwards and fell on his back.

Megatron raised his arm, before slamming the flail down hard just as Optimus rolled under and spun laterally, knocking Megatron off his feet. Megatron grunted as he hit the ground and slammed his elbow into the side of Prime’s face.

Prime rolled away and was instantly standing back on his feet, Megatron mirroring his quick movements.

Megatron dove forward, tackling Prime, and the two collapsed on the ground. Optimus tried to kick Megatron away, but Megatron dodged the blow and wrapped his taloned hands around Prime’s leg and spun, swinging Optimus in circles before letting go and sending him crashing into an upper level senator box.

Optimus climbed back up to his feet and jumped out at Megatron, but Megatron caught Prime, stoutly holding his ground, and redirected his momentum, flipping him over into another box.

Megatron pounced on Prime, slashing at his armored exoskeleton with the claws on his fingers fully extended. Prime smashed his fist into Megatron’s face, shattering several of the former Duumvir’s teeth. Megatron spat them out coolly, and slapped Prime across his face, leaving scratches across his mouthplate. Optimus grunted, lifting the hefty Megatron and tossing him back onto the floor.

Optimus jumped to his feet, and agilely leapt, extending one foot forward ahead of his body, as Megatron stood, slamming his foot into Megatron’s chest. Megatron staggered backwards at the blow, sparking at the shoulders. Prime followed up with a fist to Megatron’s torso, causing him to double over.

“Let it end now, Megatron, please,” Prime pleaded. “I do not wish to extinguish your spark.”

Megatron laughed, and, as Prime bent concernedly over his old friend, clasped his hands together and clubbed Prime in the face. Prime stumbled backward, but maintained his balance.

Megatron rushed forward, not noticing the blue glow emanating from between the panels of Prime’s armor, not hearing the high-pitched buzzing, and Optimus Prime delivered an expertly-placed kick to Megatron’s torso, then a knee to his face, then an elbow to his back, and another kick to the side of the head, sending Megatron rolling across the floor, where he came to rest in front of the collected Starscream.

Megatron gasped, struggling to stand, but couldn’t find the strength, and he fell back onto his front, lying sprawled out on the ground. Starscream smirked as he picked his leader up and, grunting with the effort, positioned him over his shoulder, and turned and exited through an archway.

The glowing flickered and died, and Prime sank to his knees. He gazed at his hands, opening them and closing them, rotating them at the wrist, analyzing every square inch on both sides. He sighed, and stood, following Megatron’s second.

He passed numerous frightened senators clustered against the wall in groups of four or five, shaking in fear of this new Prime.

Cerebros shouted from somewhere down the hall, “Optimus! You can still catch them!”

Prime nodded and began running toward the nearest exit, shoving through the doors, just in time to see Starscream dump Megatron into the massive purple Astrotrain’s passenger compartment, which was large enough for two large Cybertronians. “Astrotrain, take off!” Starscream commanded, pounding his clenched fist into the side of the doorway. A panel promptly rose and then gave off a hissing at it sealed itself.

“Kaon or bust!” Astrotrain declared, as his thrusters activated, sending the transport-bot and its two passengers rolling swiftly down the street before rising into the air.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Prime craned his neck to find Alpha Trion smiling comfortingly. “It’s not an easy thing- being Prime.”

Prime said nothing, only gazing off mournfully after Astrotrain, and Megatron.

*****

“Wow,” Spike said. “Megatron sounds like our Hitler.”

“That is not an inaccurate comparison,” Ratchet said.

“Oh God, Optimus. I’m so sorry,” Carly said.

“Do not be. This occurred over twenty-five thousand years ago,” Prime replied. “The Megatron who was my friend died long before that. He was corrupted by madness, but he refused to see it. It is now our mission to see him destroyed.”

“That must be awful, having to fight your best friend like that,” Chip said, glancing at Spike, who returned his glance.

“It is the duty of the Prime to carry out the will of Primus,” Optimus answered gravely. “Ever since Prima was first granted the Matrix of Leadership.”

“Hey, Optimus,” Sparkplug said, “What’s a ‘Creation Matrix’?”

“The Creation Matrix was our original source of Energon, protected by the Original Thirteen Cybertronians. According to legend, one of the Originals, who had been assigned to oversee the destruction of the old to make way for the new, was corrupted by the concept of chaos and destruction, similar to Megatron, and began a war for the Creation Matrix. Because, at the time, Prima was carrying out a sacred duty set upon him by Primus, Vector Prime, overseer of time and space, was charged with leading the loyalist armies against his brother, who became known as the Fallen. When the Fallen was defeated, Prima returned, his mission completed, and, at Primus’s command, launched the Creation Matrix into space, and then left the planet to build a prison on another planet, where the Fallen would be held for his crimes,” Optimus explained.

“Energon is our lifeblood,” Ratchet added.

“Okay, that answers another question,” Sparkplug said, “but who’s Primus?”

“We do not know his origins, only that he is far older than anything we have found, and that he is our creator. He provided our ancestors with everything they required for life.”

“Wow. He must be one hell of a supercomputer,” Sparkplug said, astonished.

“Primus is more than that. On Earth, your machines are incredibly simplistic and primitive. On Cybertron, everything mechanical is living and breathing, we grow and develop our own personalities. Each of us here is male, but there are females on Cybertron, as well,” Ratchet said.

“You- you reproduce?” Chip asked.

“Yes, in a similar way to your species,” Ratchet answered.

“Fascinating,” Chip responded. Spike turned to him, one eyebrow raised. "It's not like that, I swear!" Chip said, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Suddenly, a man, approximately six feet tall, no older than twenty-eight, with short, unstyled brown hair, wearing a plain white T-shirt and denim jeans, walked down the ramp out of Prime’s trailer. “Optimus, Teletraan-1 and I detect several military units moving our way.” The humans gazed at him, confused, but Prime addressed his familiarly.

“How close, Roller?” Now, they could all hear a large group of vehicles approaching close by, and even the thumping of a helicopter.

“Not far,” Roller replied blankly.

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Didn’t you just say you didn’t want to involve us in your conflict?” Spike said, taking a step forward.

“Roller is a special case. He has volunteered to be our envoy on occasions such as now,” Prime answered.

“Well, they didn’t kill him, so I guess they really are the good guys,” Sparkplug said, receiving dull glances from the other humans.

A loud clang erupted as the military vehicles passed through the junkyard gates. “Roller, why couldn’t ya’ve told us earlier?” Ironhide groaned.

“I had to verify that they were converging on our location,” Roller answered, joining the other humans, who turned to see eight military jeeps and humvees rumble around a junk pile, and come to a stop. Several soldiers disembarked from their vehicles, and approached cautiously, low to the ground, weapons at the ready. A few more holding rocket launchers stood to the back. A Blackhawk circled overhead.

One especially cautious man came forward, light brown hair blowing in the stirred wind from the helicopter’s blades. He squinted his dark brown eyes in the sunlight. He approached Spike, holding a hand out.

Spike watched the man’s hand tentatively poke at his chest, brows furrowed. Satisfied, the man grabbed Spike around the shoulder and began to drag him away from the Autobots.

“Who are you?” Spike asked, struggling against the man’s firm grip. The man paused, staring intently at Spike’s mouth.

“What?” he said, awkwardly.

Spike said it again, this time exaggerating each syllable: “Who are you?”

The man pointed to the name on his jacket. It read, “White, Bradley J., Capt.”

Over the thumping of the helicopter blades, Spike could hear Optimus command, “Autobots, drop your weapons,” and then some mumbled complaints from Ironhide.

Spike managed to break away from White’s grip. He turned, seeing Roller effortlessly evade the man trying to drag him away, and the other being dragged away as well. He stumbled confusedly to his father, helped him break free, and then Bumblebee dropped to his knees, rolled forward, and scared the soldiers back, two others releasing Carly and Chip. Together, the five humans formed a line between the Autobots and the military, and spread their arms out wide, yelling, “No, no, they’re on our side!”

White turned to his soldiers and gestured, and they all lowered their weapons.

White approached Spike again. “One of those things killed my troops!”

“No! Not these!” Spike replied, continuing to exaggerate each syllable.

“Friendly?”

“Yes, friendly!”

White waved at the helicopter, which immediately began climbing and moving away from the scene.

White sighed in thought. Obviously, these monsters hadn’t harmed the civilians. And the green one wasn’t with them. Maybe they were friendly.

“Green one?” White asked.

“Enemy. Dead.” Spike replied.

“What are they?”

“Aliens. Enemy leader is here somewhere, more enemies looking for it.”

With the helicopter almost inaudible, White could just barely make out the basic sounds of the boy’s words, making it easier to understand.

“Where?”

Spike turned to Chip, and Chip immediately handed him the laptop. He knelt down, holding the computer on his knees, as it started. White knelt beside him.

“Check the recent files,” Chip suggested.

“Thanks,” Spike said, nodding his head. Seconds later, the Blackrock Industries file displayed on the screen. He turned to White. “Due in Los Angeles on Tuesday. Tomorrow.”

White nodded, standing and walking to his vehicle. A few moments later, he returned. “Okay. The Department of Defense cleared it. We will meet with reinforcements outside of town and escort you.”

“You mean to make sure we don’t stir up any trouble,” Bumblebee said, crossing his arms, but White didn’t hear anything.

“Yo Bumblebee,” called Jazz, “look at it this way: least we don’t have to worry now. Dig?”

Bumblebee sighed. “I guess.”

Spike turned to Optimus. “We’re coming, too.” The others nodded in agreement.

“I do not wish you to be harmed,” Optimus protested.

“But you need us. What if you guys need help keeping the military on your side?”

Prime sighed. “Bumblebee, can you protect them?”

Bumblebee shot up immediately to his feet. “You bet!”

Optimus chuckled. “Then if it is your wish, Spike Witwicky, you may join us.”

“All right!” Bumblebee said, converting into his vehicular form, startling several soldiers. The doors opened. “Get in!” Bumblebee said, cheerily.

Spike helped Chip into the back seat, and Sparkplug folded the wheelchair and placed it in Bumblebee’s trunk before taking his seat. Carly slid into the front passenger’s seat, and Spike hopped in the driver’s seat. The rest of the Autobots followed suit and the soldiers reentered their vehicles.

Roller climbed into Optimus Prime’s trailer, which rolled to attach to Optimus’s hitch, before Prime gave the command: “Autobots, roll out!” Immediately, the Autobots merged into a group with the military vehicles before rolling single-file through the gate and through the streets of Archer.

*****

Starscream sat patiently, watching the blood red sky darken, from his perch on the side of a mountain, waiting for Lockdown’s report. The other Decepticons were hidden in an abandoned hangar below. Warm, dry air blew across the barren fields, stirring spirals of dust. A bird ran swiftly across the desert floor, chased by a ravenous coyote.

Starscream watched coldly as the predator gained more and more ground on its prey, until the bird ducked into a hole amongst the roots of a cactus, leaving the mammal no time to stop. It yelped in pain as it smacked head-first into the thorny green plant, recoiling and turning away, disappointed. The bird stuck its head out of the hole, seemingly mocking the predator.

The Decepticon Air Commander chuckled to himself at the mammal’s misfortune.

Suddenly, he heard the bounty hunter’s rough voice. “Starscream.”

Starscream activated the holographic communicator on his arm. “Have you succeeded, Lockdown?”

“Ugh… No. There are Autobots here, but I’ll give it another try… but I’ll need my payment in advance,” Lockdown said.

“You… failed?” Starscream said, calmly.

“You’re taking it well. Yeah, I did. First time for everything it seems. But I can get you your information, if I get my flamethrowers first. Call it a test-drive.”

Starscream erupted. “YOU FAILED? YOU KILLED THE ALPHA QUINTESSON AND DELIVERED HIS HEADS TO SHOCKWAVE, YET YOU CAN’T HANDLE SOME MEASLY AUTOBOT?”

“Yeesh,” Lockdown cringed. “I won’t fail this time, Starscream.”

“THAT’S LORD STARSCREAM TO YOU! AND THERE WON’T BE A NEXT TIME! CALL IT A FAILURE!” With that, Starscream disconnected the transmission.

Starscream paced back and forth several meters, holding his arms behind his back. “What to do… Where to go… If word gets out about this…” Starscream growled in frustration, pulverizing a boulder with his fist.

Finally, he gave in. He looked up into the sky. “Soundwave.”

“Soundwave acknowledges,” Soundwave replied coldly.

“We have a problem. Lockdown was defeated by some Autobots, and failed to deliver the information we seek.”

“Lockdown: inferior. Decepticons: superior. Soundwave will resolve.”

“Good.”

*****

Drifting in space, Soundwave, still rooted to the communications satellite, opened a compartment on his chest.

“Frenzy, Rumble, Ravage, Ratbat, Laserbeak, eject. Operation: reconnaissance,” Soundwave commanded.

Immediately, five forms emerged from the compartment, each forming into flying Cybertronic vehicles, barely visible in the black expanse. The five fell into formation, dropping swiftly, silently, and intently toward the planet.

[Jazz]

Nice job!


And did Starscream just watch Loony Toons?

[PrimeDirective]

Glad I made that reference obvious enough!

[The Last Autobot]

I like the thing that Alpha Trion says. I forget who originally said it before WW1 but I liek it.

I also like how you worked Roller in.

[PrimeDirective]

I knew, ever since hearing that quote in Mrs. Unicron's class, that I wanted to put it in here.

[Jazz]

Ahahahahahahoo..heh...oh thank God we're done with that class.

[Minerva]

Awesome chapter! Keep up the good work!

[PrimeDirective]

Chapter 11
The sun sank mellowly over the western horizon. Sparkplug snored, leaning on Bumblebee’s back door, head rolling limply in sleep. Spike looked over at Carly and flashed a grin; she smiled back. Chip tapped away at the keyboard on his laptop.

A voice came up over the radio: “Captain White suggests we stop for the night, to allow his troops and our companions to rest.” It was Optimus.

Sparkplug snorted and jolted awake as Bumblebee slowed quickly. Chip gripped his laptop tightly, frowning as the computer’s inertia faded. Spike looked up through the windshield at the military convoy surrounding them, each vehicle carefully pulling off the road onto a sandy field littered with patches of grass. The six Autobots followed tentatively, cautiously rolling onto the field, wary of the lower traction.

Carly immediately climbed out of Bumblebee and dropped to her stomach and rolled over. Spike watched curiously as she crawled beneath the small yellow Autobot. Spike opened his own door and stepped out, falling to his hands and knees to see what she was doing.

“Oh wow, this is too cool!” Spike heard her say. “Everything’s here!”

“Yup,” Bumblebee replied.

Ratchet converted to his true form and stepped forward. “When we choose our disguises, we replicate every aspect of the subject in question. Every physical aspect, at least. We still possess the same top speed and other capabilities as on Cybertron,” he explained.

Spike looked up at the Autobot medic, who smiled kindly. “We look like your vehicles, but we’re still more advanced.”

“So how did you guys learn English? And I think Optimus was speaking Spanish or something at first. I mean, it’s not like you guys would speak English back on Cybertron, right?”

“You are correct, Spike. We have our own language, most of which is entirely different from the patterns of Earth languages. Originally, the Cybertronian language consisted largely of what you call clicks and beeps, but this evolved into a more guttural and vocal style early on, perhaps before the end of the First Golden Age, and then returned to its more computerized origins.”

“This is so cool,” Carly said, still looking at Bumblebee’s chassis.

Spike sighed and turned back toward Carly and Bumblebee. “Hey Carly, we should probably find out about dinner or something.”

“Oh, you go ahead, Spike. I want to check out Bumblebee some more. Then maybe Optimus,” Carly replied, still lying beneath Bumblebee’s vehicular form.

Spike sighed again, and then began looking around the site for Captain White or maybe one of his seconds here. Spotting him gesturing and directing the setting up of tents and locking down of weaponry, Spike hurried toward him, and tapped on his shoulder.

“What is it?” White asked.

“What are we going to have to eat?” Spike said.

“Say again?” White said, staring intently at the movements of Spike’s mouth.

“What are we going to eat?”

“Oh.” White reached into a pocket, fumbled around for a moment, and produced several granola bars. “Enjoy, kid.”

Spike took the bars and turned and ran back to Bumblebee and dropped them in the passenger seat. He took a deep breath, standing still for a moment. Sparkplug and Chip both gave him confused looks, but before either could speak, Spike shot off to Optimus Prime’s trailer, up the ramp, and into the hold.

Roller sat at a large computer console, typing rapidly. In fact, he was typing so quickly that Spike at first thought his fingers had split into multiple digits, each stroking the individual keys elegantly and with purpose. Roller looked away from the monitor and shifted his gaze toward Spike. His fingers slowed and then stopped, and Roller placed his hands in his lap. “Yes?”

“I was just wondering what was in here. I mean you don’t discover an alien race every day,” Spike replied, taking in everything inside the steel rectangle.

“Just be careful and don’t touch anything. You might accidently trigger the trailer’s defense systems.”

Spike nodded, and continued to stare. Three massive beams connected by rotating joints and surrounded by mazes of piping and wires occupied the majority of the space. At the end of this structure was a large teardrop-shaped object, which each wire and pipe seemed to converge on. The end of this object was a circular hole, although it was too high for Spike to see inside. It resembled a spotlight used in concerts and at dances.

Then Spike felt as if a light bulb were shining above his head. “That’s it!” he declared, turning and running out of the trailer.

*****

G.B. Blackrock sat nervously in his chair in his office at the Blackrock Industries Main Headquarters building. It was a large and extravagantly-furnished room, with large oak bookshelves, housing everything from essays on advanced robotics and quantum mechanics to thousand-page-plus books about the advent of the nuclear age. Satin curtains hung over the large window behind him. Two chairs on the opposite side of Blackrock’s impressive oak desk were carved of cherry wood. In one corner, a small fern waved gently in the air conditioning. Agent Korosky sat in a chair opposite him, gathering papers bearing information classified above top secret.

“According to my intelligence agents among Captain Bradley White’s troops, the specimen your company discovered is known as Megatron, and these newer arrivals are his enemies. They have come to destroy this ‘Megatron’ and end a civil war that has been raging on their home planet for thousands of years,” Korosky said.

“With everything that’s happened so far…” Blackrock trailed off. And then: “I’m so relieved that they’ve come to try and help clean up.”

“They won’t be helping. They’ll be doing. All we can do is provide support. Our arms, to our knowledge, can do no serious or permanent damage. The only thing that we have that would definitely be effective is the atomic bomb. Mr. Blackrock, you had better pray that these Autobots are enough to stop whatever of Megatron’s soldiers have come for him.”

“Well why wouldn’t they be?” Blackrock asked.

“Because the Autobots sounded afraid of Megatron. Not necessarily his army as a whole, but they fear Megatron like we fear dictators who double as mass murderers. If I’m not mistaken, that’s exactly what he was.”

Blackrock turned to the window gravely, gazing out at the darkening sky. “Send word, however you can, that my company will provide whatever support we are able.”

Korosky nodded, rose, and left the room.

“What have I unleashed?” Blackrock said somberly.

*****

Optimus Prime chuckled. “When Elita and I were courting, I took her to the Great Rift, to watch the Energon falls when the light of Cybertron’s two moons passes through them, creating the most beautiful sight in all the world.”

Ratchet nodded. “I have measured the boy’s pheromone levels, and they are far above normal levels.”

Ironhide snorted. “Me ‘n Chromia didn’t have none of that. We met at Maccadam’s, there was a bar fight… the rest is history.”

Prowl simply grunted and tapped his foot impatiently, begrudgingly shining the headlights on his chest onto the same spot as Bumblebee, who sat calmly, waiting for Spike to bring Carly along.

A large bat gave out its screeching cry above, drawing Prowl’s attention. He glared at the animal, analyzing its body, but was unable to ascertain its identity in the darkness. An answering cry from a bird far away increased the former Decepticon’s impatience and agitation.

Prowl signaled with two fingers to Roller, who sat on the trailer’s ramp. Roller nodded, understanding, stood, and retreated into the hold.

At last, Spike led Carly into the light, with his hand over her eyes. “Spike, where are we going? Can you uncover my eyes now?”

Spike flashed a big grin. “Yeah.” He let his hand drop to his side.

“What is this?” Carly asked. The six Autobots were groups around them in a circle. Some of the soldiers watched, while some continued to patrol the area, and some slept soundly in their tents.

“I know you wanted so bad to go to the dance. So, I’m bringing the dance to you,” Spike said, smiling.

“Oh, Spike, you didn’t have to do this,” Carly said.

“I wanted to.”

“Yo, this is DJ Jazz here, and I’m gonna take care of you tonight!” Jazz said, vaulting over Bumblebee and landing lightly on the ground inside the lit circle.

Soft music began playing from Jazz’s speakers, and Spike held one hand out to Carly. She took it, tentatively, in hers, and Spike pulled her in close, taking her other hand in his, and the two began moving in unison, taking long, slow strides, turning, and continuing in a line.

Sparkplug and Chip peeked out from behind Ironhide’s leg. “I didn’t know Spike knew how to dance,” Chip said.

Sparkplug chuckled and said, “He didn’t. Amazing what fifteen minutes can do.”

Carly laughed as Spike dipped her low and spun. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dancing beneath the stars before,” she said.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever been dancing beneath the stars with aliens watching,” Spike said, smiling widely.

“Good point,” Carly laughed.

Spike swung low again, pulling Carly along with him, then spun.

“Young love,” Sparkplug sighed. “It takes me back.”

Spike spun around Carly, who turned with him. She stared deeply into his eyes, and he stared back. Their hands parted, and Spike scratched the back of his head nervously. Carly stepped closer. Spike leaned in…

The song ended and Jazz switched his radio off. “We have a request from Bumblebee. Bee, take it!”

Spike looked back to Carly, and their eyes met again. They both leaned in this time…

“WAKE UP IN THE MORNIN’ FEELIN’ LIKE P. DIDDY!” Bumblebee’s radio blared abruptly, startling Spike and Carly.

Bumblebee transformed, letting his headlights dim, and began dancing along with the song.

“Bumblebee…” Spike began, but the yellow Autobot didn’t hear.

“Bumblebee!” Spike shouted.

Bumblebee lowered the volume on his radio. “Huh?”

“Switch the station,” Spike said.

“Okay,” Bumblebee said.

“STOP CALLIN’ STOP CALLIN’ I DON’T WANNA TALK-“

“Just turn it off,” Spike said, turning to see Carly walk over to Optimus’s trailer.

“Aw,” Bumblebee groaned, switching the radio off.

Spike started toward the trailer to follow Carly, when she and Roller suddenly appeared in the doorway. Their faces looked grim.

“Optimus… Teletraan-1 has detected five Decepticon spark signatures approaching our area,” Roller said gravely.

“Roller, are you sure?” Optimus asked.

“Yes. They have been identified as Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, Ratbat, and Laserbeak, five of Soundwave’s minions.”

“Then we are found,” Prowl said. “I had a hunch. Ratbat was right over us, but I didn’t act. Let’s get out of here before they can show up.”

“Too late!” a soldier shouted from somewhere behind Optimus. Immediately, two missiles tore into the ground, sending three military jeeps flying through the air. One bore down on Spike, but Bumblebee launched himself forward and knocked it away.

“Come with me if you want to live!” Bumblebee shouted. Spike and Carly dove inside the Autobot as he transformed again.

The piercing cry of a raptor sliced through the air as it descended into the campsite, black and red. It smashed the roof of another vehicle, grabbing it with taloned claws.

Soldiers scrambled into their vehicles, firing shots at the attacking mechanical bird.

“Ironhide, get Captain White and call for help!” Optimus commanded, transforming and hooking up to his trailer. Roller leapt inside, rolled, and came up at the Teletraan console.

Ironhide nodded and transformed, rolling off amongst the soldiers. As Bumblebee sped off, Spike saw someone get in but wasn’t sure if it was White or not. Sparkplug shoved Chip inside Ratchet’s medical bay and climbed in after him, and Ratchet took off after Bumblebee.

Two more robots slammed into the ground, revealing themselves; they were identical aside from coloration. The blue one growled at his red and black brother: “Come on, Frenzy, let’s slam these punks!” With that, both Decepticons’ arms shifted into pile drivers, smashing into the ground and releasing shock waves that uprooted trees and tossed vehicles around like toys. Ironhide rolled over once, but was quickly back on his wheels, pulling onto the highway.

A lavender bat attached itself to Prowl’s neck with metal fangs, and the former Decepticon could feel his energy being drained. “Get off, batty!” Prowl shouted, ripping Ratbat away and tossing him.

“Hey, no one treats Ratbat like old hat!” Frenzy declared, sending a shock wave Prowl’s way. As the wave hit him, Prowl leapt into the air, using it to send himself higher.

Coming down fast, Prowl swatted the blue one with one hand and the red one with the other, touching down lightly. “You midgets aren’t worth the metal you’re made of.”

A missile from beneath Laserbeak’s wing knocked Prowl backwards, skidding across the sand into a tree. Prowl quickly recovered and took off after the other Autobots. The campsite was now empty save for trashed tents and the wreckages of three jeeps. A fourth crashed down just as Prowl moved out of the way. He converted into his vehicle mode, and sped off onto the highway, followed by the four minions.

He heard the roar of a jungle cat as a black feline Decepticon launched out of a grove of trees on one side of the highway, tearing two jeeps in half. “Ravage…” Prowl hissed to himself.

Laserbeak soared above him, powered by jets in his aft side. The bird squawked, almost mocking Prowl. Prowl transformed and leapt gracefully into the air, swatting Laserbeak out of the air. The bird crashed to the ground with a loud thump.

Prowl ran after the convoy, watching in horror as two missiles fired from the launchers on Ravage’s hips, destroying several jeeps. The feline Decepticon ran swiftly, faster than even Prowl. He wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Ratbat came from above, preparing to dive, as he was caught in the chest by a missile. A squad of three F-22s roared overhead, one firing another missile. Ravage effortlessly dodged this missile, as it exploded just off the road in a gap between Prowl and the convoy.

Ratbat fluttered his wings, and rose to the level of the Raptors. Before the pilots could react, it latched itself to one. Quickly, the engines faded and quit as the energy from the fighter drained into the small bat-like Decepticon. As it fell, Ratbat unlatched itself, and the jet crashed into a field, sending up a ball of fire and a plume of smoke.

Laserbeak smashed through another one, completely obliterating it. The pilot screamed as he fell with his seat, and Laserbeak slashed at him with his talons. The screaming fell silent.

Prowl launched himself into the air, landing a perfectly-placed kick to Laserbeak’s back, and the bird fell from the sky, as Prowl leaped to Ratbat, who fell beneath the weight of the much larger Autobot.

*****

Spike glanced back at the carnage, chains of explosions going up behind him in Bumblebee. He could just barely see the newest one, the feline as it tore through the military towards them. He saw the laptop Chip had left in the… Chip had left the laptop in the back seat! “Oh no…” Spike whispered to himself…

*****

Frenzy and Rumble rocketed by in their alternate forms, speeding past the downed Laserbeak and Ratbat, and even past Ravage. The converted back into their true forms, Rumble landing on Bumblebee’s hood and Frenzy on his trunk.

Carly screamed as the two converted their arms into the pile drivers. “Hold on, Spike and Carly!” Optimus cried over the radio. Suddenly, Bumblebee lurched forward, and there was a loud crashing as Optimus bumped into Bumblebee from behind.

Frenzy cried out, lost his balance, and fell. He rolled out of the way just as Optimus’s tires rolled over the spot he’d just been. Ravage knocked the red Decepticon out of the way, continuing his pursuit of the laptop.

The final Raptor roared overhead, and Ravage jumped up toward it, activating the thrusters in the back of his launchers, latching his clawed feet into the exterior. With one incredibly strong swipe of a forepaw, he severed the wing and let go. The F-22 rolled out of control, veered off to the right, and crashed. Ravage alighted and hit the ground running.

On Bumblebee’s hood, Rumble said, “First we crack the shell, then we crack the nuts insi-” Bumblebee swerved into the next lane and screeched to a stop, throwing Rumble onto the road, where he bounced twice before skidding to a halt. Bumblebee accelerated again, gunning his engine. Spike and Carly cheered.

“We’re not out of the woods just yet, Spike!” he said.

*****

Prowl transformed back into his vehicular form, gunned his engine, and shot forward, slamming into Ravage. Ravage snarled viciously, holding fast to the scar in Prowl’s hood.

“Get off!” Prowl growled, swerving left, then right, but Ravage couldn’t be thrown off.

Ravage jumped from Prowl’s hood, and butted into his passenger door, knocking Prowl off the road. Prowl transformed, rolling into a grove of trees, and cursed in Cybertronian.

Ravage continued toward the front of the shrunken convoy, firing missiles at each of the military vehicles, annihilating them all. White looked on with horror through Ironhide’s windows, unbelieving.

“I’m sorry,” Ironhide said. “Having to go through losing all of your troops not once, but twice must be a heavy burden.” These words also played across each of Ironhide’s windows.

White said nothing in reply, perhaps not hearing or seeing.

Ravage bounded, almost gliding, over the wreckage of the military vehicles, snarling and glaring intently at the small yellow sports car at the front of what was now simply a line of Autobots.

*****

Spike and Carly screamed as Ravage leapt over the entire length of Optimus Prime’s vehicle form, landing on the same place where Frenzy had. A quick swipe of Ravage’s forepaw opened the door behind Spike.

Spike turned in the driver’s seat and reached back for the laptop, but Ravage lunged forward and snatched the computer with deadly delicacy in his mouth, let the door shut, and climbed to the front of the vehicle. Ravage was now close enough that they could see a single red optic hanging from Ravage’s jaw, along with the laptop.

Spike, Carly, and Bumblebee screamed as Ravage lifted one paw, preparing to smash through Bumblebee’s windshield and slaughter the both of them.

Suddenly, a shell exploded with precision in front of Bumblebee. Ravage yowled and leapt from Bumblebee’s hood. “BANG!” yelled a voice from nearby, loud enough for the six Autobots to hear. Bumblebee, Optimus, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Jazz all screeched to a stop, and Prowl came sprinting after.

Ironhide, Ratchet and Bumblebee let their human counterparts climb out before the vehicular Autobots transformed. Roller smiled at the Teletraan console, and, as the group watched, a red tank rumbled over a small hill. The Autobot sigil adorned the front of either tread guard, as well as the top of the turret.

On the top of the turret, the hatch opened, and a man crawled out. As this man came forward, they could make out his graying hair and drooping features.

“Aren’t you the news guy?” Spike asked.

The man held out his hand. “Walter R. Path, BANG, here, at your service!”

A moment passed in silence, and Sparkplug voiced the humans’ thoughts: “What is going on here?”

Ironhide grinned. “Heh, Warpath, old buddy, you can cut the act. They’re with us.”

Walter Path distorted and faded, and the red tank began to shift its own shape. This new Autobot was thickly built, almost like a football player, and the short cannon from the turret stood straight from his chest. There were treads on both legs. The stocky Autobot introduced itself: “The name’s, CRASH, Warpath!”

“What, do you have robo-tourette’s or something?” Chip asked.

“Actually, that is not inaccurate,” Ratchet said. “Ever since he was a hatchling, Warpath was known for shouting onomatopoeia mixed with words when speaking.”

“That’s, WHOMP, right!”

“How did you get here, Warpath?” Bumblebee asked.

“I agree with Bumblebee. I was afraid you might have died on the jump,” Optimus said.

“Well, it was back when we were, CRASH, leaving, you remember? When Perceptor opened the, ZOOM, spacebridge, Optimus, you wanted to go last, but I, KABOOM, insisted to go last, in case there were any, SMASH, Deceptichumps trying to get through.”

“Yes, I remember. What happened afterward?” Optimus said.

“When you, SHAZOOM, went through, the whole space bridge went, SLAM, BANG, KABOOM, haywire! I hurried through, but the coordinates, for some odd reason, BOOM, changed when you went through, Optimus. I saw the, BLAM, Matrix, and ended up here. So while you were all, ZING, spacebridge hopping, I came directly, SHAZAM, here. And I’ve been, CLANG, here for years, posing as a, SHOOM, reporter,” Warpath explained.

“So that’s why you’d always see a red tank whenever you were reporting!” Chip said.

“BANG! You’re a clever one,” Warpath said.

“I’m beginning to wonder how both you and Megatron ended up on this planet after being transported through a spacebridge, even though the one Megatron was sent through was a first version. I am also beginning to wonder if it was as accidental as we thought,” Optimus said.

“It probably has something to do with the Matrix. I mean, think, Prime, both times the Matrix was nearby. Either way, Megatron is here now, and the Decepticons want him. We have to quit playing around and destroy them all as soon as possible,” Prowl said.

“Prowl, you may be correct about a connection with the Matrix, but we are not playing here. It is essential to maintain a healthy relationship with this planet’s military forces and governments,” Ratchet argued.

“No, Prowl is right. By associating ourselves with human military forces, we have placed them in the Decepticons’ sights,” Prime said.

“That’s ridiculous, Optimus,” Prowl said. “The Decepticons had military targets from the beginning, or Soundwave would’ve ordered Lockdown not to engage Captain White’s troops in the desert. Whatever happens, we cannot lose sight of our goal: to stop the Decepticons. If we don’t, this planet, and many more along with it, are doomed,” Prowl said.

“Indeed.” Optimus paused for a moment, before issuing his command: “Autobots, transform and roll out. We should arrive in Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon.”