Transformers: Generation 3 (Now with part 5!)

[The Librarian]

And now...the conclusion:

 

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“Reactor stabilised.�

�Super lasers four through eight have cooled to safe levels.�

Shockwave did not acknowledge the reports, his optic fixed on the real time holo-map of Iacon that stretched before him. Radiance and Eclipse, the Seeker-like computer operators exchanged glances and went back to work. Soundblaster approached his commander’s motionless form.

“The spacebridge is primed.� He paused. “Our power stations are being overtaxed. All the warp gates and the strain from the lasers…a gateway so big could…�

“Megatron orders it.� Shockwave’s voice was as cold as ever. “We obey.�

“Still, commander… Now that we have revealed our base…would it not be wiser to direct all power to the lasers and level everything we can hit before retreating?�

“We are not privy to our supreme commander’s reasoning. He has dictated this strategy. We must enact it.�

 

“Megatron’s signal received.�

The familiar monotone came from a cobalt computer terminal that sat on the control platform, linked into the base’s comm-net. Soundwave had taken his ‘brother’s’ usual place. If he had had lips, Soundblaster’s would have curled.

 

Shockwave stood upright, glancing at Megatron’s lieutenant only briefly.

“Radiance, begin transmission procedure.�

The femme’s fingers scuttled over her console, feeding in coordinates.

“Eclipse, commence bridge power up.�

“Yes commander.� He slid a series of switches into new positions. “Launch when ready.�

Radiance grinned.

“Target locked. The carnage commences in fifty astroseconds.�

 

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Prime felt the impact of every one of Megatron’s shots. He winced as one of the quad-guns was blasted from its mount. He came close to crying out as impossibly strong hands tore through girders and two-inch thick armour.

 

It did not shake him. It merely made him furious. As Megatron clawed his way out of the wrecked Battledeck, he was greeted with a hail of rockets and laser fire. His skin already cracked and burning, he was sent reeling, unable to raise a weapon, incapable of weathering the assault. Prime pressed his advantage, lunging, tearing. Megatron twisted free, his rail gun in tatters, his left arm twisted unnaturally.

 

There was impasse, the ancient combatants facing each other amid the destruction their battle had left in its wake.

 

Some way off, a thunderclap echoed across Iacon.

 

Megatron laughed.

“Surprise!�

 

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Stepper crouched in what had been the state achieves, cradling his rifle. In the deep shadows cast by the shattered walls, he was totally invisible to the group of Decepticons who were combing the building. There were six of them, four Seekers, a Horrocon and a Firecon. There had been ten before Stepper had caught up with them.

 

Silently, the assassin levelled his gun and waited. Seconds later, a blue and red Seeker came into view, his manner cautious. The rifle whispered. A look of astonishment passed over the Decepticon’s face as the energised dart punched a hole in his cerebral core. Without so much as a squeak, he pitched forward. Unfortunately, the impact with the ground set off his arm cannons.

 

Like lightning, Stepper made his escape. He was gone from the shadows and hidden atop a vast data-tape rack moments before his victim’s comrades clattered up to gawp at the fresh corpse.

“Scrap!� A creature like a wolf with wings prodded the fallen Seeker.

“Yes he is.� One of the more vertical jets, a cone head in black and green, gestured for his comrades to fan out. “And not long ago. Find that Autobot. Now.�

“I’m not picking anything up on my sensors,� proclaimed the Firecon.

 

Of course not, Stepper thought as he took aim, that’s what stealth armour is for. He permitted himself a small smile. It would be simplicity itself to terminate this bunch of amateurs. His trigger finger tightened.

 

“YEEEEHHHHAAAA!�

As one, the targets and sniper looked round in astonishment. Two sleek shapes hurtled out of the night, one red, one gold. They rocketed through the Decepticons, momentarily scattering them. Still concealed, Stepper cursed. With as little though as possible, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker began trying the physically pummel the jets and monsters. Or Sideswipe did at least. Sunstreaker hung back, firing a roof-mounted rocket launcher.

 

The element of surprise and shock did not last long. The black Seeker led his fellows into the air whilst the Firecon sent a blast of flame rolling towards Sideswipe. The red racing car drove straight through the blistering heat, transforming as he came. Fists swinging, he met the mechanical dragon head-on and began pounding it into the floor. Ignoring his brother, Sunstreaker opened fire on the Seekers, who weaved through the explosions, trying to get a clear return shot. One of them jerked and crashed, a gaping hole in his chest. The cone-head should have been dead as well but he suddenly blurred at the edges and the shots passed harmlessly through him. His companion used the distraction to launch an energy net. It engulfed the golden car in an instant. He transformed, grappling with the web, then collapsed as it hit him with a massive electric charge. The Seekers descended, rifles held ready.

 

Having decked his sparring partner, Sideswipe let out a wordless yell and dashed to his twin’s aid. The Horrocon leapt at him, teeth barred. And jerked aside, one of Stepper’s explosive shells in his right flank. Blind to anything but Sunstreaker’s peril, the red Autobot jumped past and grabbed the net-launcher around the neck, pushing him over before savagely snapping his head back. Satisfied that the Seeker would not be getting up, Sideswipe lunged for the cone-head. He passed straight through and went face first into a wall.

 

Triumphant, the Decepticon advanced. Stepper thrust his knife into his conical helmet and triggered the power burst. Throwing the slumping body aside, he kicked Sideswipe in the skid plate.

“Whasssup…� came the mumbled response.

“Imbecilic moron.� Stepper dragged him upright. “What an utter waste of time and energy. A perfect shot and you two burst in and ruin it.�

“Wha…?� The warrior’s optics came back online. “Oh. You.�

“Yes, me.�

The sniper knelt by the Seeker that had been mauled, fiddled with its rifle and found the button that deactivated the net.

“Sunny!� Sideswipe rushed to the still form. “Primus! He’s still functional…looks like he’s just stunned…wake up you fragger or I start scratchin’ gloss!�

Sunstreaker jerked awake.

“What? Hey, get off!�

 

Scowling, Stepper about faced and stalked back towards the shadows. He stopped. High above, a thunderclap sounded.

 

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“Emirate – massive spacebridge opening in Sector six!�

“Show me.�

Xaaron was by Trailbreaker’s side in an instant. The shimmering rift hung on the screen, a scar on reality that widened as they watched. Having grown to over a kilometre in diameter, it flared star bright. Momentarily blinded, the watchers looked away. When their vision cleared, they wished it had not.

 

Hovering above Iacon, cannons already firing, was an enormous wedge-shaped battleship, towers and engines clustered at the rear, a runway protruding from the prow, the whole thing rendered in black and purple.

 

Skater, at Xaaron’s shoulder, spoke first.

“Trypticon.�

Xaaron turned from the screen. They should have seen this coming. He suspected Prime had. Now there was only one thing for it. He looked up.

“This is Emirate Xaaron to City Sector Alpha. By Prime level authority, I hereby order that Protocol Five be executed immediately.�

 

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Trypticon was in a very bad mood. For the last few years, he had been powered down, energy levels near zero, superstructure almost beyond repair. It had been wonderfully peaceful, as near blissful oblivion as he was ever likely to get. When the light wave had come, he had been dragged back to life, his slumber forever shattered. Worse, Galvatron had been waiting. Or rather, Megatron. It didn’t matter one jot. It meant the same thing: Transform, Trypticon. Fly there, Trypticon. Trypticon, smash this, that or the other. Did they think he was glitched like Devastator or a mindless hulk like Scorponok’s transector? Did they even care that he could outthink Shockwave and held the combined tactical knowledge of every single Decepticon commander since the start of the whole damned war?

 

Of course they didn’t. To them, he was a glorified battering ram. Oh, Megatron had stressed the importance of his part in the attack but really; did they expect him to enjoy brainlessly laying waste to all he encountered? He casually blew a crater in the heart of Iacon’s residential district. Might as well do it properly.

 

The monstrous spacecraft swept low over the city, brushing skyscrapers aside like grass. Five batteries of photon cannons tore into the transport network while a pair of ICBM launchers put paid to what was left of the spaceport. Bored of flying, Trypticon transformed and landed in one of the areas he had cleared. His foot falls scattered ally and enemy alike as he made his way towards the central towers. It would have been easy to pound away at them from a distance but he had decided he needed to sink his teeth into something and the golden spires looked just right.

 

An absent minded swipe of his tail bowled over a block of entertainment establishments. Something whirred past his head, some kind of jet dropping bombs. An instant later, he felt tiny pinpricks of pain break out along his right shoulder. He ignored them.

 

Claxons were blaring out across City Sector Alpha. Mechs were racing from the area, dashing clear of the group of white skyscrapers. The alarms changed tone. Gantries and walkways retracted. A roadway folded up. Buildings began to pivot and telescope in on themselves. Entry ramps and hanger bays closed up. An airstrip doubled over.

 

With a shuddering roar, Metroplex took on his battle-station mode. Gigantic engines straining, he lifted off and placed himself squarely in Trypticon’s path. They stared each other down, blank metal glaring at narrowed yellow optic. As one, they fired.

 

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Rolling out of the way, Stepper felt the blast wash by him, a wave of heat and debris. Looking up, he saw the remains of a tower block raining down like magnified confetti. What had been left of the archive’s roof was lying around him in very small bits. He had been fortunate. The attack had only caught the building a glancing blow. Standing, he could just see the smoke and flashes of the fight that had ensued between the two city-formers. There was no sign of the twins, just piles of rubble. Idly, Stepper began poking the mangled metal, looking for bodies.

“Urgh…�

No such luck.

 

Sideswipe dragged himself out from under the nearest heap, shaking dust from his grime-streaked armour.

“Urgh…� he repeated, “Who dropped the city on us?�

“Feel free to go and complain,� was the venom soaked answer, accompanied by a finger pointing towards the sounds of heavy warfare.

“Uh? Argh! No thanks!� The warrior looked about. “What happened to Sunny?�

 

With a grinding scrape, a battered, dishevelled and formerly gleaming Autobot un-plastered himself from the floor. His optics became slits as his fists clenched.

“Someone,� he hissed, “is going to pay for this.�

“Sure, Streaker, sure.� Sideswipe whacked his brother on the shoulder. “Just make the bill out to the bank of Trypticon!�

“Do that again and you’ll be eating your own tailpipe.�

“Do what? Oh, this – hey, where’re you going?�

Stepper, in the process of removing himself from the ruined room, scowled at his ammo-readout.

“Where do you think? To kill Decepticons.�

 

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Elita One struggled to simultaneously keep her balance and blast Sweeps. Metroplex and Trypticon’s blows seemed to be rocking the whole planet.

“Heads up, boss lady!�

Jazz’s cry sent her diving to the ground. Dreadwing’s machine guns missed by metres and the gestalt jet cursed loudly. Then bellowed in pain as it came into range of Jazz’s flamethrower.

“This is not our day.�

 

As she rejoined the fight, Elita agreed whole-heartedly. From their vantage point on top of the once and extremely former spaceport, she could see Devastator pounding Radian into stasis lock, Bruticus hounding the Omnibots and Abominus totalling what was left of the central barracks in a frenzy of destruction. Above, Sky Lynx fought desperately to overcome Predaking. Below, Ratchet, shaking with lack of energon, herded wounded mechs to the relative safety of an underground expressway. Decepticons swarmed everywhere; slowly driving the Autobots back to the centre of the city. And over everything rumbled the shockwaves of the titan’s conflict.

 

“The only good thing,� Elita shouted, “is that the orbital bombardment’s stopped!�

“For how long?�

Blaster’s voice suddenly broke through the babble that was swamping the comms-net.

“Hang tight, guys and gals! Reinforcements inbound and revin’ for a fight!�

The femme commander let out a sigh of relief. Jazz whooped, his attacks gaining new vigour.

 

Like wrathful wasps, Autobot attack ships rocketed over the horizon.

 

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Ultra Magnus rechecked his weapons one last time before turning to his troops. He had obeyed Prime to the letter, ensuring that he had enough mechs, that they were fully fuelled and that the retaliation was coordinated properly. Needless to say, the soldiers were all impatient for battle, trigger fingers itching like mad. Magnus shared their zeal.

“Pick your targets well, Autobots.�

A chime sounded from the drop-ship’s computer.

“Brace yourselves!�

 

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Grimlock pressed the door release, opening his shuttle’s underside hatches. Flexing his hands, he drew his sword and stamped to the hole.

“Dinobots!� he roared, “let’s crush ‘cons!�

Cheers greeted his battle cry. He leaped.

 

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Metroplex registered the wave of troops as they soared past him, guns blazing. Or, more accurately, Scamper, deep inside the walking city, detected them and passed the readings on. Metroplex himself was too busy extracting his fist from Trypticon’s maw to notice.

 

Transforming to robot-mode had been risky – dangerously time consuming even with his newly acquired speed – but necessary. The Decepticon monster was simply too agile to face as a vehicle. Nonetheless, the Autobot winced every time his movements inadvertently demolished nearby buildings. Between the two of them they had caused so much collateral damage that the rest of Megatron’s forces needn’t have bothered coming.

 

Savagely yanking back his forearm, he at last weakened the tooth-filled grip. Using the momentum to push him round, Metroplex swung his undamaged arm, catching his foe a colossal blow on the left flank. The force of the punch crushed one of the war machine’s weapons pods, setting off enough munitions to flatten an army. Trypticon blundered backwards, his wound matching the one that graced Metroplex’s torso.

 

Now the white titan just had to keep his balance. Components howling in pain, he flung on the brakes, halting his rotating body, and thrust his right arm out to brace himself against the ground. Every joint, from his still bending knees to his shaken neck, was overheating like crazy. His armour was streaked, pitted and in some places deeply cracked. He now faced Trypticon over an expanse of debris, including his merrily blazing rifle. So many proximity alarms were going off that he had to disconnect himself from his own warning systems. None of which dented his resolve. Trypticon had to die. It was the only option.

 

Now the metal lizard was lowering his head, preparing to ram. Metroplex’s optics widened. He was close to the central towers. If the Decepticon hit him at full speed, he would end up sitting on top of the command centre. There was no time to act. Trypticon was already diverting all power to motors and shields. In seconds he would be in motion. Nothing could halt him now.

 

Which made the drop-ship’s suicide run the most miraculous piece of heroic stupidity that Metroplex had ever had the fortune to witness. It ploughed into the obsidian skull, creating a ball of molten metal that left Trypticon dazed and stumbling. It was a gift from Primus. Later, Metroplex would learn that the pilot had got clear and would send Scamper to buy the mech a very large drink. Then and there, he just acted. Motivators practically gone into meltdown, he rammed his power plant to maximum output and jumped. The laws of physics seemed to freeze in shock. Then reasserted themselves with determined finality. The city-former hit the surface just behind his nemesis, nearly splitting the planetary crust. Before the Decepticon could turn, he had seized the reptile’s tail.

 

This was going to be fun.

 

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They were both exhausted. They had chased each other for miles, pounding away incessantly. Finally they had reached the end of the road: a bridge that had been shredded by blaster fire.

 

Hands locked together, frame straining against bulky frame, Optimus Prime and Megatron fought on, ignoring the pain, each determined to crush the other. Megatron’s left arm was working again but his fusion cannon had lost power and his right optic spluttered intermittently. Prime’s laser rifle had vanished over the edge, along with one of his rear wheels. It had come down to a simple test of strength and will, neither giving an inch, neither taking a micron. They did not bother with taunts. Both lacked the energy. All that mattered was the struggle.

 

It was likely that had Megatron not suddenly given ground, they would have both been killed. The Decepticon was attempting to unbalance Prime – in which he succeeded – and the tactic carried them both away from the bridge.

 

A shear wall of black metal swept the remains of the structure away, shattering the roadway and flinging wreckage in all directions. Trypticon’s inert form roared past, a throwing hammer thousands of metres long. The blast of displaced air was enough to flatten the combatants, the hurtling rubble catching Prime in the back as he fell. With a resounding crunch, Trypticon’s slide was halted by a cliff-face.

 

Throwing his enemy aside like a sack of bolts, Megatron stood up and glowered at the fallen city-former. Then he cocked his head to one side and slowly smiled. Prime, suddenly awake, caught him round the boots, trying to bear him to the ground. The smile grew wider even as Megatron tumbled.

“Too late!�

Leg mounted treads span, forcing Optimus to let go. The Slagmaker jumped into the air, activating his communicator.

“Megatron to all Decepticons: withdraw, stand down and return to Charr.�

He savoured the astonishment on Prime’s face.

“So long, old friend!� He waved cheerily. “Look’s like you’ve beaten us again!�

 

Optimus felt his spark sink into a pool of ice. He had no weapon, no ammo, no communicator and no booster fuel. Megatron was slipping through his fingers again.

“Retreating, Megatron? Pathetic!� Exhaustion made him reckless. “Death must have made you a coward! And insane! You’ve been beaten and your grinning?! Get down here and fight like a mech!�

“Firstly, I’m not the one who died. Secondly, I am no coward. And thirdly…� A panel on his forearm slid back. “Thirdly, ever heard of the term ‘misdirection’?�

Prime saw a burst of smoke, heard the whoosh of a rocket, felt the missile strike home and was engulfed in pain and darkness.

 

All was still.

 

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Below, Iacon lay in ruin, a royal corpse stripped of all its finery. Above, the universe span on, uncaring. Between stood the watchers, ethereal as ghosts, shadows on the sky.

 

The smaller, winged and crested, gloried in what he saw, yellow optics drinking in the desolate vista as if it were fine art.

“Is it not wondrous, my Lord?� he crooned, “To see this pitiful world in flames?�

The far taller shadow was silent.

“To watch as they tear each other apart…� Yellow-eyes sighed. “Beautiful.�

Still silence was his only answer.

“How close our god’s ultimate triumph is! Yet…we should be down there amid the carnage, sowing chaos, trailing death –�

He stiffened, realising what he was saying.

“My apologies, my Lord. I am speaking out of turn.�

“Calm yourself.�

Cold, green optics momentarily shifted to the winged being.

“And have patience, Macabre.�

 

Nemesis returned its icy gaze to the city.

Do not let your eagerness for battle cloud your judgement.�

Macabre bowed his head.

“No, my Lord. It is simply being so close to war and yet being nothing more than an observer. I yearn to see the Chaos God once more stand on those planes and to be at his side as he snuffs out the last spark in existence.�

“One day, you will be.�

Again, Nemesis glanced at its companion.

“One day. But plans set in motion millennia ago cannot simply be redirected. They must be coaxed onto new paths and gently aligned to our new goals. So we must be content to wait.�

“Forgive me again, my Lord, but surely our true goal is unchanging: the extinguishing of all life?�

 

A soft sound that might have been a chuckle.

“Macabre, you are a blissfully simple creature. Yes, we work towards that perfection. The path to annihilation, though, twists of its own violation. And my Master hungers so. His hatred of Primus’ children transcends all, superseding even his desire for void. He would see them suffer for their sins.�

Black armour shifted as it moved, stance changing almost imperceptibly.

“He has recalled me to punish them. Thus, our goal changes�

 

This time, Nemesis fixed his full attention on Macabre.

“Do not fear. The High Hunt will not be inactive for long. You will be unleashed. Soon.�

A flash of pleasure brightened the hunter’s optics.

“And in time,� continued the demon, ignoring the Sweep’s reaction, “My Master’s will shall triumph. Cybertron shall die. In time.�

It turned away, light coiling from its hands to engulf the shadows, to drag the two of them back to physical reality.

“In time…�

 

Next: The Storm

 

 

(You may have noticed I like knocking seven bells out of my poor Autobots...:) )

[The Librarian]

And I should have mentioned: The Evac mentioned here is NOT the Cybertron character. He is an original mech I actually came up with some time before Cybertron was announced. His alt mode is a Cybertronianised version of a Korian War era US medical helicopter.

 

 

Comments and crits welcomed as ever!