Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 15: The Second Journey)

TMC 15-2

Another month had passed for Orion’s team. They were resting in a cave. Sonic and Amy slept in Jazz’s backseat as he and Blackarachnia were snoozing vehicle mode. Orion couldn’t sleep. He sat near the cave mouth and looked out at the pouring rain. As he sat, he sighed. He was then bathed in a spectral glow. The glow was welcoming as two figures appeared, a mech and a femme. The femme, the mother’s Spark that resided in his axe, Blade Dancer, rested her hand on his shoulder. Her son, the Spark living as his gun, Pacemaker, looked out the cave as well. “Kind of peaceful somewhat,” he mused.

“Not for me,” mumbled Orion. “It feels…evil. Like all the good that exists on this planet is being washed away.”

“There’s still some good around,” replied Blade Dancer as she cast her optics on the sleeping bots and Hedgehogs. Orion smiled.

“Yeah. …You know, some people think I’m the Last of the Primes that old prophecy spoke of.”

“The problem with that,” remarked Pacemaker, “is that you end up feeling like you don’t have your own identity.”

“Sometimes, things come back. That journey you two kickstarted for me, that’s proof right there.”

“That was a gamble of long odds, though,” answered Blade Dancer. “There’s never a guarantee of that working. But the eventual end, that’s dead certain.”

“…Continue on this journey then?”

“It’s our only hope.”

“…That’s a sad commentary in and of itself.”

“The universe used to be a bigger place,” sighed Pacemaker.

“The universe is still the same. …There’s just less in it.”

Unicron’s castle was also in the midst of a storm. Unicron idly looked out the window as his Terrorcons amused themselves in various ways, entertaining a guest. Unicron had a cup of tea in his hand as he observed the lightning flashing in the sky. The sound of footsteps coming up then snapped everyone out of their thoughts and activities. The person, a female badger in a weird outfit made of silver tape on her body, the former senator Josie “Sticks” Beller, appeared. Lately, she had taken to calling herself Circuit Breaker. She pointed at Unicron and snarled. “I won’t be summoned like some mongrel!”

“Apparently, you can,” remarked Unicron. “I believe you know our other guest.” Idly pointing to the other person, Unicron continued looking out the window. The guest was none other than Abraham Tower in his new persona. He was piloting the Cybertronian body as his own, much like Nemesis Prime. He waved and grinned at Circuit Breaker.

“Ah, Commander Tower!” hissed Circuit Breaker. “Auditioning to join my team?”

“Not yours. His.” Tower pointed at Unicron. “And I call myself Thunderwing now. How fared your fight with…erm…Alpha Trion and Vector Prime, I believe they called themselves?” Unicron turned sharply to Thunderwing.

“Why mention those names?”

“…I told you she was delayed by a fight,” replied Thunderwing. “Those were the names of his opponents.” Unicron developed a rather fearful twitch.

“Two of the most powerful…and they slipped beneath my radar!” he mumbled as he dropped his cup.

“Er, could someone tell the former Moebian Autobot Leader,” called Nemesis, “who they are?”

“They’re Primes,” explained Crystal Widow. “Members of the original Thirteen.”

“Primes? Oh, that’s easy. I’ll just brick their connection to the Matrix.”

“No, you cannot,” rumbled Unicron. “That power I gave was made for mortal Primes, not Demigods like them!”

“Demigods?” asked Thunderwing.

“That bauble in Orion and Rodimus’ chest? That’s just a taste of their power. Basically, people like them are the Matrix incarnate.”

“…A deal, then?” Unicron arched his brow as he prepared a new cup of tea.

“…A deal?”

“Alpha Trion and Vector Prime serve us, and, in exchange, we let the two Matrix-bearers fight in the Unicron Games.”

“…Too risky. They’re clever. No. We find another option. …One that involves Rodimus Unicronus.”

Standing outside a cave was a blue robot with jet kibble, the last Seeker on Mobius, Thundercracker. His charge, a red robot with compact car kibble, Cliffjumper, was breathing heavily. Thundercracker returned inside and gave Cliffjumper another ration of Energon. “!” groaned Cliffjumper. “You…”

“You need it more than I do,” remarked Thundercracker.

“But…” Cliffjumper’s protestations were interrupted by light flashing into the cave. Thundercracker drew his sword as the two bots generating the light approached the cave. Soon, it was revealed to be the headlights of Bumblebee and Arcee as they and their Mobian companions, Knuckles and Rouge, approached the cave.

“Thundercracker?!” asked Bumblebee. “Oh, thank Primus, it’s great to see a…!”

“NOT ONE STEP CLOSER!” shouted Thundercracker.

“Huh?” asked Bumblebee.

“What’s wrong?” quizzed Arcee.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?! Especially from Makeshift, you shorties!” Arcee threw a tool at Thundercracker’s head and Bumblebee grabbed him by the wings, lifted him into the air, and spun around.

“SHORTY?! CAN A SHORTY DO THIS?! WHAT ELSE D’YOU WANNA CALL ME?! A HALF-PINT BEANSPROUT MIDGET?! I’M STILL GROWING, YOU OVERSIZED TIN-FOIL TURKEY!” He then released Thundercracker, and the poor Seeker flew into the cave wall. Bumblebee’s rant was then interrupted by Cliffjumper groaning. “Oh, sweet Primus!” Bumblebee took out a phial of refined Light Energon and handed it to Cliffjumper. The younger brother then greedily drank the contents and sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” bid Cliffjumper.

“There was no way fighting Unicron was easy,” sympathized Bumblebee, “especially concerning the mental battle.”

“Cliffjumper told me about your story,” groaned Thundercracker. “You lost your parents and tried to resurrect them only to lose your brother in the process, so you sacrificed your own body to save him.”

“…I wouldn’t exactly call it saving him,” sighed Bumblebee. “He’s just external armor held together by a Dark Spot.”

“And any Energon I take in would only convert to Dark Energon,” continued Cliffjumper. “That’s why I was against you draining your own rations like that.”

“I didn’t have any Light Energon on me,” replied Thundercracker. His optics then rested on Arcee, Knuckles, and Rouge. “How do we know that one of them’s not Makeshift? Heck, how do you know I’M not Makeshift?”

“If you were, then Cliffjumper wouldn’t have been fighting,” replied Arcee. “Besides, no Terrorcon would take in Light Energon, so Cliffjumper’s safe.”

“And the four of us already checked each other out,” supplied Knuckles. “We’re all good.”

“Thank Primus,” sighed Thundercracker. “Guys, the situation’s hopeless. We don’t have a base, any resources, or any means of communication.”

“Not yet, no,” replied Rouge. Cliffjumper and Thundercracker looked at the bat like she had two heads. “We found something that may serve as a resistance base; a certain ship that crashed here when Unicron rose.”

“…The Weak Anthropic Principle?” asked Thundercracker.

“Bingo,” confirmed Arcee. “We’re gathering a resistance group to fight against Unicron. You interested?”

“A resistance group, you say?” chuckled Cliffjumper. “A change in the wind, says I! I’m in!”

“So am I!” affirmed Thundercracker. “I’m sick of skulking around in a cave!”

“Then let’s head out in the morning,” declared Bumblebee. “We need to conserve our energy.” No one argued, they were all dead tired. Cliffjumper was the most agreeable to rest as he had been fighting Unicron’s mental influence for too long.

The Three Realms The Three Realms (Book 4: Trials of Light and Dark)

3 Realms 4-16

Padding across the sands covering their underground kingdom, five Manticores were struggling to catch their breath. They couldn’t summon enough energy to fly to a shady spot, after their whole squadron was viciously annihilated by the elephant Realmfleet sent. “Too…too…brutal!” panted one.

“Must…must keep on!” encouraged another.

“Dad…Dad won’t…” The third couldn’t keep his energy up as he and his brothers fell. Their wounds were too great, and the heat was intense. The five manticores passed out, ready for death. It took only a few minutes for them to succumb. After an hour had passed, a small Realmgate opened and deposited Dr. Borg and Oyed. Dr. Borg set up the Revenant equipment around the Manticores and started chanting. “Shanwey yat talyen falunar. Shanwey yat talyen falunar. Shanwey yat talyen falunar.” The Manticores then gained the glowing veins and screamed. “Shanwey yat talyen falunar! Shanwey yat talyen falunar! Shanwey yat talyen falunar! TEL!” The Manticores then stopped screaming and opened their eyes.

“Whu…what…I’m alive?!” asked the first Manticore.

“Alive and…a little glowy, by the look of it,” remarked the second.

“That’s thanks to the good doctor,” explained Oyed.

“My Lord!” yelped the third Manticore. The whole group then lowered themselves, putting their stomachs to the sand and extending their paws while declining their heads and lowering their eyes. Their tails extended behind them, putting their stingers to the ground and their wings folded against their bodies.

“Up, please,” directed Oyed. The Manticores then rose.

“My Lord, it’s been too long since you graced our people with your presence,” chuckled the fourth Manticore. He then sensed the impropriety of his statement. “Er, not that we don’t understand, of course! We know how busy someone like you is!”

“Ease yourselves,” assured Oyed. “As it stands, I need to collect on a debt someone owes me. Someone I think you five are familiar with.”

“…Wait a minute, Dad’s always talked about a deal with someone,” muttered the last Manticore. “Was that you?”

“He’s been the master of your people’s ruler for a long time, in exchange for his soul.”

“He hasn’t been doing a good job of it,” remarked the first Manticore. “Someone’s tried to take his position one way or another.”

“Have they now?”

“How much is Dad’s soul worth to you?” asked the fourth Manticore. “I think we can be used as adequate…” His sentence was interrupted by an elephant’s trumpeting. “Oh no!”

“Steady yourselves,” assured Oyed. “Dr. Borg, now is a good time for observations.” The elephant arrived and went wild at the sight of the Manticores. They were at full strength again, so they took to the air. Two landed on the elephant’s back as the remaining three slashed at the elephant’s sides with their claws. The result…was unusual for a Manticore. The elephant trumpeted in pain! The Manticores on the elephant’s backside blinked, then the one nearest to the rear sunk his teeth into the elephant’s flesh. The one near the head readied his stinger, then plunged it right into the skull, flooding the elephant’s head with venom. The elephant thrashed around before the venom took effect. It collapsed and all its organs shut down. The Manticores blinked.

“Wh…what changed?” asked the first.

“I think it’s the veins,” answered the second.

“Wait a minute, weren’t we dead?” the third asked Oyed.

“You were,” answered the Titan, “but she brought you back to life as Revenants.” He pointed to Dr. Borg.

“And it looks like Revenant Manticores CAN kill an elephant where a mortal one cannot,” mused Dr. Borg. “I will have to study this in greater detail.”

“Revenants?” asked the last. “So, we’re undead?”

“Yes,” answered Oyed. “Now, what was your proposal concerning your abusive father?”

A silver-maned Manticore was cleaning himself lazily. He felt good about his life so far. His King and Queen were nothing more than puppet rulers and he was the one pulling the strings. His pride was digging into the scraps of the recent kill after he had the literal lion’s share. A female Manticore then approached him before bowing to him. “Yes?” he asked.

“Visitors have entered the Sanctum!” gulped the female. The male then fixed her with a stare.

“If it’s King Velkor, please get rid of him,” he grunted. “I’m far too busy with Overseer business.”

“It’s not a Manticore!” replied the female. “It’s…It’s…!”

“Spit it out!”

“It’s your master!” boomed a voice. Realm Trinity soldiers then sprang from the shadows and leapt onto the Manticores, beating them back with the Revenants having more success.

“WHO DARES?!” roared the male.

“I dare,” answered the voice as its owner, Oyed, stepped from the shadows. “Overseer Toonsar, how fares the kingdom?” The male, Toonsar, then recognized the face and was seized by fear.

“Lord Oyed!” he squeaked. The five Manticore Revenants then stepped out from behind Oyed.

“Don’t forget us, Dad!” snarled the first. “Or have you already forgotten that you sent us and our platoon to die at an elephant’s feet before Lord Oyed’s Lieutenant resurrected us with greater power, power that KILLED the elephant!”

“Enough!” boomed Oyed. He turned to Toonsar. “You have a debt to pay!” He advanced on the terrified Manticore. “You’ve been pulling Velkor’s strings during the entire time of hiding! THAT was our agreement! Your soul is mine now!”

“Technically, I was pulling the strings for only half that time,” gulped Toonsar, “then I was viciously mutinied upon until I regained my status just recently.”

“Then you were a poor Overseer, but an Overseer nonetheless! Have you not introduced yourself all these years as Overseer Toonsar Lortem?!” The Realm Trinity Empire laughed.

“Look, you have my payment. You have it five times over. Our original price was one soul to serve you and you’ve got five.”

“One soul is not equal to another, much less five!”

“Ah HA! So, we’ve established that my proposal is sound in principle. Now, we’re just haggling over price.”

“…Price?” Toonsar thought he had him.

“How many souls do you think mine is worth?” Oyed appeared to be calculating just how many.

“…One hundred twenty souls,” he finally answered. “You must present forty to me each day.”

“So, 120 in three days?” asked Toonsar.

“That’s the general idea.”

“Splendid.” Toonsar turned to his sons. “Boys, Daddy has a…” The fourth son swatted his father in the face, leaving claw marks around the left eye.

“I keep your sons,” declared Oyed. “A good-faith payment. That leaves only thirty-five for today.”

“Have you not met my sons? They’re noble, heroic for our cause, terrific singers, worth at least four souls each. …Maybe three and a half.” Oyed gave a look of consideration.

“…I keep your sons. 35 more to go for today, one hundred fifteen altogether. But, I wonder, Toonsar, can you live with this? Can you condemn innocent cubs, YOUR cubs, to a lifetime of servitude in your name while you roam free?” Toonsar looked back at his sons, then back to Oyed.

“…Yeah, I’m good with it. Shall we seal it in blood?” Oyed then grabbed Toonsar’s paw and burned a mark into his pad.

“Three days.” Oyed and his company then faded into the shadows and vanished.

“I think Dad may have oversold us,” muttered the first Manticore.

“Undersold, actually,” corrected Oyed. All five Manticores perked up their ears. “By willingly joining my service, your souls became worth a hundred.”

“…Our lips are sealed,” promised the first Manticore as he and his brothers grinned wickedly. Their father was going to fail no matter what.

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 15: The Second Journey)

TMC 15-1

Mobius was under threat. A primordial evil, one that is a prominent figure in the religion of shape-changing robots, had risen from the core and took over the surface. All ships and stations orbiting the planet had fallen back to behind the moon, above a base within Crater Copernicus. Inside the main command center, a fat man with a beaky nose and a giant, gunmetal gray robot with a giant cannon on his right forearm and red optic lenses watched what was happening on the surface via Mobius News. “This is Scarlet Garcia, reporting live at the scene of another Unicron attack!” reported a human woman. Behind her, a demonic-looking tank was firing wildly into a city as a Bison male laughed. “Once more, Unicron is causing a sheer panic! Thousands of evacuation orders have been issued and millions are fleeing to the countryside while others seek shelter! Mobius has never seen terror as real as it has for the past four months since Unicron’s announcement of his tournament!”

“You’re kidding me!” snapped the fat man, Dr. Julian Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik.

“I know, right?” replied the robot, the Lord of the Decepticons, Megatron. “A bison? Was Unicron REALLY strapped for holo-forms that had upward curving horns?”

“I’m talking about terror! ‘Never seen,’ my moustache! I roboticized millions and overthrew the Mobian Monarchy!”

“Considering that Aleena reestablished it, I’d have to argue that it wasn’t a total overthrowing.”

“It’s bull! I’m supposed to be the greatest threat to Mobius!”

“Aw, look at the poor Omelette Dictator, lost and forgotten to time.”

“Even the Decepticon attack of Station Square almost a year ago,” continued Scarlet Garcia, “pales in comparison to this overwhelming threat, as if comparing a cataclysm to a rampaging toddler!”


“Aw, look at the poor Edge-lord of the Decepticons, lost and forgotten to time,” mocked Eggman.

“Watch it, Doctor! Unless you wish to fight right now!”

“If you idiots are done!” shouted a voice. A black and red male Hedgehog, Shadow, then approached them. “Megatron, any progress?”

“Did Black Doom make you deaf?!” snarled Megatron. “You keep asking me and I keep giving the same answer! I can’t read Unicron’s thoughts anymore!”

“Can’t you reestablish that kind of link?!”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?!” Megatron drew in a breath to calm himself. “Besides, the original link was two-way. Any changes to the link would have to be made while we could read each other’s thoughts. It’s too risky.”

“We need SOME form of prediction! We can’t just wait here and hope for the best!”

“Right now, the only chance we’ve got is Orion unbricking his link to the Matrix. …I’m not sure how he’s going to do that without Cybertron’s help, but he can’t exactly get to Cybertron right now…not with us isolating ourselves like this.”

A semi drove up to a cave, hauling a trailer behind it. The driver, a young human male with Japanese features, maneuvered the semi so the trailer was pointing towards the cave mouth. He then vanished as the semi shifted certain parts and extended others to reveal its robotic nature. The robot then leaned down and poked his head into the cave. “Pst! Pst, guys! It’s Orion!” hissed the robot, Orion Pax, the former Optimus Prime.

“Password?” asked a young woman’s voice. Orion sighed.

“Let’s speed and succeed.”

“Come in.” Orion entered the cave and opened the trailer.

“I couldn’t find a lot, but I found enough for a few days,” reported Orion as his best friend and girlfriend, Jazz and Blackarachnia respectively, approached him. Orion then looked around. “Where’s Sonic and Amy?”

“They also went on a supply run,” answered Jazz.

“WHAT?!” hissed Orion.

“Sonic was tired of sitting around all day, waiting for Unicron to strike,” explained Blackarachnia. “Besides, Amy went because he figured going alone would be stupid!”

“And he’s right! Why didn’t you take one of us with you?!” snarled Jazz.

“I can’t risk all of you!” argued Orion.

“Yeah, because risking yourself is SUCH a good idea!” scoffed Blackarachnia. “Orion, he may have bricked your connection to the Matrix, but its mere existence offends him! He’ll target anyone even holding it, Prime or not!”

“He tried to destroy that thing during the time of the Thirteen,” continued Jazz. “We can’t afford any unnecessary risks.” Orion sighed. He hated it when his friends were right.

Unicron had returned to his castle, stretching after the mayhem he had caused that day. He transformed and approached the build site for his arena. A purple robot then approached him. “Lord Unicron, will you do something about the arena?!” begged the robot, the evil version of Tails, cybernetically grafted into his universe’s Optimus Prime, the leader of the Terrorcons, Nemesis Prime.

“What’s up?” asked Unicron.

“We keep making the arena, but something always turns out wrong with the color!”

“Okay, this I gotta see.” Unicron followed Nemesis to the arena and floated above it. He gave a few cursory sweeps with his optics. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered. “This looks like the perfect place for the Unicron Ga…” he stopped when he saw a bright pink tile! “…How?!” he asked.

“We don’t know and it’s killing our brains trying to figure it out!” answered Nemesis. The rest of the Terrorcons, Crystal Widow, Straxus, Makeshift, Sideways, Deceptitran, and Rodimus Unicronus, approached the two.

“Okay, it looks like y’all are stressing out over this. How about some food?” suggested Unicron.

“Truth be told, I could murder for a pizza,” muttered Nemesis.

“You murdered for Chaos Cola,” remarked Crystal Widow.

“…I mean, that’s not an untruth,” replied Nemesis.

“Then it’s settled,” declared Unicron, “we’re getting pizza.”

“Ooh! I want one with pepperoni!” called Deceptitran. “And one with sausage, and one with ham!”

“Meat lovers,” said Straxus. “You want a meat lovers pizza.”

“Nah, I actually like to keep the meats separate,” explained Deceptitran. “I wanna savor each animal!”

“Wait, but they all have pig in…” muttered Crystal Widow.

“Ooh! Ooh! But the one with the ham,” interrupted Deceptitran, “make it Hawaiian!”

“Oh, gross!” gagged Rodimus Unicronus.

“What do you mean ‘gross’?!” argued Makeshift. “It’s delicious!”

“It most certainly is not!” contradicted Sideways.

“Okay, could someone fill in the blanks for your Master here?” asked Unicron. “What is a Hawaiian pizza and why is that topic so divisive?”

“My Lord, I assure you, it’s SUPER good!” replied Nemesis. “It’s ham and pineapple!” Unicron stared at his lieutenant in stark horror.

“…Excuse you and your entire old universe?!”

“Ham and pineapple.”

“And how many of your fellows share the same taste with you and Deceptitran?”

“Me!” called Makeshift.

“And me,” supplied Straxus.

“So, Crystal Widow, Rodimus Unicronus, and Sideways hate it?” quizzed Unicron.

“That’s right, My Lord,” answered Crystal Widow.

“You three speak sense. Pineapple on pizza? That sounds vile!”

“What?!” wailed Deceptitran. “No, it’s the best! It just plays so well with the ham and the toma…”

“It’s an abomination, and I should know! Pizza is the pinnacle of savory goodness! Why would you ruin it by putting fruit on it?!”

“Come on, be fair, Lord Unicron,” said Makeshift. “Tomatoes are fruit, aren’t they?”

“Don’t you play Prima’s advocate with me, Makeshift, lest you suggest we start filling calzones with raspberry jam!”

“That sounds delicious!” panted Deceptitran. Unicron then grabbed his fat servant’s lower lip and yanked him up to his face.

“Of course, YOU would say that! I’M an Epicurean! YOU wolf down Big Macs like Tic Tacs!”

“…Ah wanna vuhguh na,” Deceptitran tried to speak. “Ca we jush do vuguhs inshed?” Unicron then considered his options.

“…You know,” he muttered as he released Deceptitran, “I could blow up the moon for some Herr Burger Meister. …No, wait, Fuzzball’s! NO, SPACE SLIDERS!”

“I’ve a preference for Meh Burger, personally,” mused Crystal Widow.

“I’ll take a Double Bacon Cheeseburger, caramelized onions, lettuce, chipotle mayo, and ketchup. No pickles!”

“I’ll take the same, but with grilled pineapple on it!” called Deceptitran. Unicron roared in frustration.

The noise reached a pair of hedgehogs, one pink and one blue, as they foraged for supplies. “Er, Sonic, did you hear that?” asked the pink one, Amy Rose.

“I FELT that!” replied Sonic the Hedgehog.

The Three Realms The Three Realms (Book 4: Trials of Light and Dark)

3 Realms 4-15

“So, Reb’s working for us, huh?” mused Delselii as he and Bashoon got their food at Barmek’s. “That’s neat.”

“The woman who kidnapped the entire ship while I was an Ensign,” replied Bashoon, “is currently going through a petty squabble with another Protectorate Pirate. ‘Neat’ is not the first word that comes to mind!”

“Petty squabble?”

“Who’s gonna be the Head Protectorate for the mission.”


“I tell you; pirates can act childish at times.”

“You’re not wrong. I mean, the pirates I dealt with threw a tantrum when things didn’t go their way.”

“…YOU dealt with pirates? Isn’t the Vorsholstein Estate somewhat isolated? I mean, you only installed that landing pad 20 months ago.

“I foolishly hosted the Rum-swiper Pirates a few days after its installation.” Bashoon snorted.

“Th…those guys?!” she asked, trying to hold her laughter back.

“Yeah, not really as scary as Reb is.”

“You know, I wonder how her argument with Patrica is gonna play out.”

“I see you’ve kept the GAPING hole in your quarters,” Reb mused as she looked at the Sailing Patch.

“I think it’ll catch on,” replied Patrica. “For me, it airs out the villainous smell of the previous commander.”

“I’d hardly call myself your commander if you were so VILE in betraying me after one job!”

“Yes, because kidnapping is SO profitable in the long run! You would have traded all that money away for zap-spice.”

“…My PREVIOUS crew would, yes.”

“Who was it who got them addicted to the stuff?”

“A HORRIBLE mistake I refuse to repeat with my new crew.”

“Reb Rojam,” called another voice. The two women looked to see Denstra come forward.

“Dear Denstra, we are in the middle of a VERY important discussion,” Reb waved off.

“This won’t wait, Reb,” answered Denstra. “Tell me the truth about this whole Privateer charade.”

“Charade?” asked Reb.

“Let me hazard a guess, you just want revenge against Dr. Borg.”


“Come on, Reb. If you really felt sorry for what you did, you would have stayed in Realmfleet Max, not joined Remsu in the breakout. Privateer, coat, new ship…cheap theatrical façade. I’m not buying it.”

“You weren’t there that night.” The two Cecaelia women then looked at each other, noticing that Reb didn’t emphasize ANY word or add one in that sentence. She was going to tell the truth of what happened, according to their experience.

“…When you were arrested?” asked Patrica.

“When we begged for help! Being arrested was merely a condition to ensure our safety at the time!” Denstra and Patrica were now captivated by Reb’s story. “It was a month before the Siege of Realmgate City. We were at the western coast of the Grilthan Forest, me, Melgem, and Jargoon, when we came under attack from one of Dr. Borg’s cousins, a Revenant Sprite man, no provocation, or warning, or offer of parlay! The three of us were peppered with magic blasts! …The ground beneath us roiled as if it were the sea during a violent storm!” Reb’s face betrayed the fear she felt that night. “Borg’s undead cousin then made one gesture…and the jungle came to life, thirsty for flesh! The trees tore Jargoon’s dorsal fin off, their vines tangling us, wrapping around my companions like crazed snakes…and wrapping around my legs! But my arms were free, and I had something that may have cost me my legs a week later but saved me in the long run. I only used zap-spice to keep my slime from eating my legs. Slimes of all types hate any form of electricity…as do plants. So, I did what needed to be done. I chucked my last remaining dose of zap-spice at the trees and fired a magic blast, causing lightning to strike the plants. The resulting actions caused the plants to release us, so we stole the shuttle Borg’s cousin came in on, our minds set on putting distance between us and the monster that perverted the natural world like that! We then arrived at the southeastern port of Realmgate City and surrendered.” Denstra and Patrica were stunned at the story.

“…So, the whole thing about revenge for Melgem, that’s not motivating you?” asked Denstra.

“We both agreed that revenge for the damage he suffered is his vendetta. I care not for the All-realm Royals or their rewards…but I’d give my right eye to see to it that ALL Fae remember the rules they have set for themselves to not pervert the natural world.”

“Not your left?” joked Patrica.

“I need my good eye to make sure my blade strikes Borg’s wicked heart!”

“Well then,” Denstra then poured some rum for all three and raised her shot-glass, “here’s to revenge against those who would attempt to take the laws of the natural world out of nature’s hands.”

“Here, here,” agreed Patrica.

“…I’ll drink to that HEIGHTS-BORN promise,” replied Reb.

A few minutes later, Denstra approached Arsha’s ready room. She rang the chime and was let in. “We’ve got our Head Protectorate, Captain,” she announced.

“And it satisfies both Patrica and Reb?” asked Arsha.

“Yep. Reb’s going to be part of the external assault while Patrica joins the internal team.”

“Patrica? I thought Reb would join us.”

“Reb’s more interested in making Dr. Borg hurt for perverting the laws of nature.”

“She told you this?”

“And the fact that she dropped her usual verbal tic told me that what she said was the truth.”

“That was her usual tell?”

“In all the years I served under her, it was.”

“…We’ve clearly dithered here for long enough. Tell everyone to return to their stations. I’ll tell Aldarval we’re ready.”

“Aye, Ma’am.” Denstra left the ready room and Arsha opened a channel with Aldarval.

Dr. Borg examined the new base. It was quite spacious. “Have to admit, the retreat DID have a bright side,” she mused to herself. “And I never really lived in a desert before. This would be a nice change of pace from the…” something then flew past her face from out of a room. She jumped back and examined the object once it hit the ground. It was a box, white, square, and advertised “Mama Alazina’s Pizza Parlor”. “…Yulduk!” she hissed to herself. His pizza addiction was starting to annoy her. She looked into the room, then at the pizza box, then got an idea. She checked the box’s weight, made some calculations in her head, then threw the box into the room. She then got proof of the results as Yulduk called “OOF!” He then stormed out of the room with a slice of pizza in his hand and looked out to see Dr. Borg sticking her tongue out.

“…Very cute. REAL cute,” he muttered.

“There IS a trash can in your room, yes?” asked Dr. Borg.


“Use it!” Dr. Borg stormed off and Yulduk rolled his eyes.

The Three Realms The Three Realms (Book 4: Trials of Light and Dark)

3 Realms 4-14

As the Endeavor waited for marching orders, Denstra looked out the window of her quarters. One of her spouses, Twansa the Succubus, was cooking and humming to herself. Their husbands were busy with their own jobs on the ship, so it was the two of them alone. Twansa’s tail was swinging from side to side slowly, a tell that she had something on her mind despite her happy humming. “…Do you ever worry about your past?” Denstra asked.

“What brought that on?” replied Twansa as she added some spices to the meal.

“Just…thinking about my own.” Twansa thought about the question as she stirred the pot of noodles.

“…I used to. I thought me being an orphan would turn people away from me. Heck, I thought me WANTING to be a Second Age Housewife would turn people away from me. Thank goodness you and our favorite boys proved me wrong on both counts.” She then started plating up the spaghetti and meatballs. “Lunch!” she called. Denstra made her way to the table and sat down while grabbing the cheese and shaking it all over her meal. She then handed it off to Twansa. The Succubus shook only a small amount, compared to the mountain of cheese on Denstra’s plate. “Something about your past bothering you now?” asked Twansa.

“…Someone, actually,” answered Denstra. “A woman that mistreated me is now a Privateer!”

“And under YOUR command, strictly speaking.”

“She hadn’t been punished enough, as I was! After I parted company, I turned myself in to Realmfleet, in some form of penance for what I had done. After that, I reconnected with my parents. When I came home, my other relatives were there! They screamed and heaped abuses at me, despite my parents trying everything in their power to stop them! They refused to stop, even ordering my parents to disown me! …As you can see, my parents refused, at the cost of their reputation. No one wanted to associate with someone with a daughter that was a pirate. So…I joined Realmfleet to continue my penance. I’m the master of my life, not Reb Rojam! …I’m the master of my fate, not Reb Rojam!”

“…Forgive me for sounding this way, but it sounds to me that, as long as you say nothing to her, she IS master of both.” Denstra looked in shock at Twansa. “I made the same mistake, believe it or not. Remember when you and the boys found me? I allowed the orphanage to make me believe that choosing to act as a Second Age Housewife makes me worthless and cheap. I only revealed my choices two years into our marriage, remember? It was when I opened up that I REALLY became the master of my fate and life. If you don’t do say something to Reb, she’ll ALWAYS control you.” Denstra considered her wife’s words as they ate their lunch.

“Approaching the island,” reported a Vampire helmsman.

“Set us down,” replied the helmsman’s Captain, a purple legged Cecaelia woman with a patch over her right eye. The ship set down near the Endeavor and deployed a landing ramp. Arsha approached the woman and shook her hand.

“Great to see you again, Captain Looden,” she greeted.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” returned the Cecaelia woman, Patrica Looden. “I heard there was another Protectorate Pirate on their way here?”

“Indeed. And…here she comes now.” Patrica’s smile vanished as Reb approached them. She then curtsied.

“Good afternoon, Arsha,” purred Reb. “My apologies for this HEINOUS delay.”

“Arsha, if I might be so bold,” hissed Patrica, “why is that woman not in chains?! She should be manacled!”

“Your thoughts match my First Officer’s,” remarked Arsha.

“Denstra’s right! We both once served under her!”

“…You served under Reb?”

“Only for ONE job!” snarled Reb. “Quite frankly, I’m amazed her TATTERED ship is still flying. The last I saw of the Sailing Patch, she was on fire, a CHARRED hulk sinking beneath Over-realm waves.”

“A soldier from the Regalin Sea Merfolk kingdom found the ship,” answered Patrica, “saved my entire crew, and got the Royal Family to organize repair efforts to make it sky-worthy again.”

“We had a deal, she and I. I contracted her to deliver VALUABLE cargo on my behalf and she chose to dump it!”

“Liberate it! People aren’t cargo, Reb! I won’t be part of a kidnapping ring!” Patrica was looking at the ship Reb came in on.

“I don’t have the Black Money in my possession, DEAR Patrica.”

“Then what’s become of that ship?”

“It MUTINIED against me when it came to life!”

“It’s a Mechanica?”

“Aye! A Mechanica that threw in his lot with that VILE Dr. Borg! All thanks to what you did! Your ‘Good Deed’ cost me MIGHTILY, Patrica.”

“And you have spared me ANY possibility of being anything other than what I am. And, for that, I AM grateful.”

“Captains, I get that there’s bad blood between you two,” interjected Arsha, “but each second we spend here arguing gives Oyed more time to permanently outdistance us. Now, I have every confidence that we will prevail and you two will be rewarded with the high station you so desire.”

“Nay, to serve doth suffice, Your most GRACIOUS Highness,” replied Reb.

“You’re looking a little sick there, Rebby,” muttered Patrica.


“Yeah, a real bad case of Brown Noser Disease!”

“ENOUGH!” Arsha’s sudden shout startled the two privateers. “…Now, here’s what we’ll do; Reb and Partrica, you two are to remain here as backup for the external fight against the Manticores while I take a team inside their defenses to see why they’re pressuring the Sphinxes into serving Oyed and how they’re doing it. Aldarval has told me that I’m leaving the position of the mission’s Head Protectorate up to you two.” The two rivals looked at Arsha in horror.

“Er, my DEAR Arsha, is that REALLY wise?” asked Reb.

“Reb and I would probably kill each other over the position,” supplied Patrica.

“That is forbidden, both by Aldarval and I. You are ordered to settle the matter peacefully. No physical combat. Not even a small catfight is permitted. Understood?”

“…Understood, Your Highness,” grumbled Reb and Patrica. They then took one another’s hand and smiled while shaking them, but the smiles did NOT reach the eyes.

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 14: Instruments of Destruction)

TMC 14-10

G.U.N. had been told of the Transformers splitting into different groups to confuse Unicron. While that was going on, Lansworth and a friend of hers, a Husky male named Mike, were watching a Monitor Lizard and his Husky co-host doing an exercise routine, complete with leg warmers and sweat-bands. Topaz then came up to them and saw the broadcast, sighing as she knew their tendencies. “Work-out channel?” she asked.

“Supporting my boyfriend,” answered Mike as he pointed to the Husky co-host.

“Boyfriend?” asked Lansworth. “I thought you two were married.”

“Not yet. Gonna be proposing to him tonight.”

“That explains your leave request,” mused Topaz. “In that case, good luck tonight.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Just then, the Monitor Lizard noticed something rumbling as his hands touched the floor. Unicron then burst from the floor in robot mode and knocked everyone down as he rose through the ceiling of the studio.

“Lansworth! Change the channel!” ordered Topaz. Lansworth flipped through the channels to see Unicron rising from the floors of each studio until she arrived at the news.

“And, as you can see,” the male Poodle Anchor was finishing his broadcast, “with all due respect to canines like myself, every dog has its…” he didn’t finish his sentence as Unicron rose from the floor. The Terrorcons then appeared out of purple portals and hooked up demonic machinery to the cameras. Unicron then grabbed the poodle anchor. The Terrorcons then set themselves up as if they were the camera crew.

“And we’re universal in 3…2…1…GO!” called Nemesis.

“The following contains violence, coarse language, and adult situations not suitable for minors. Viewer discretion is advised!” He then tightened his grip, reducing the poor anchor to a bloody paste. As he let the viscera fall from his hands, Unicron faced the cameras. “Ladies, gentlemen, boys, girls, organics, sentient machines, and that technicolor AND techno-organic rainbow in between, I am Unicron. Locals of Mobius, you might remember me as Dark Gaia. Of course, if you were just above the cracks as Eggman split the planet apart, then you WON’T remember me as you fell to your fiery end at the core of the planet, and I ate your souls. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about today. Today, I am making an announcement!”

“Please be leaving the planet forever! Please be leaving the planet forever! Please be leaving the planet forever!” begged Vector as the Chaotix saw the broadcast AFTER the execution of the poodle.

“My Terrorcons and I will be leaving the planet forever,” announced Unicron.

“WOO HOO!” cheered Vector.

“After I blow it up like an atom bomb!”

“OH NO!”

“Unless…” Vector gasped in fearful anticipation, “one or more of Mobius’ ‘champions’ can best me in combat!”

“So, Sonic?” asked Amy.

“You know, Orion’s still gonna fight!” protested Jazz.

“I am officially hosting a once-in-your-lifetime event,” continued Unicron. “A tournament so grand, it will leave you breathless! I hereby dub it…the Unicron Games! Be part of the Big Conversation on #UnicronGames.”

“Wow, Yatter just EXPLODED with that hashtag!” muttered Ravage.

“…You have a Yatter account?” asked Galvatron.

“For all of you familiar with your adorable tournament-style sports, I’ll be borrowing the rules. No brackets, this time! Yours truly is the only opponent. And, much like Megatron’s mother, I will accept ALL offers!” Unicron gave a rather dirty wink at that.

“HOW DARE HE!” roared Windblade as her trim turned gold.

“…Where was THAT?!” asked Thundercracker.

“The location of this marvelous event is 35°N 116°W,” continued Unicron. “If you don’t know where that is…it’s the old Mojave Desert on the continent of Northern Imperia. If you’re wondering why coordinates are like that, blame the cartographers. The games will start one year from today at the exact time this broadcast ends. That should give you locals more than enough time to prepare and train! Or, for those not participating, time to connect with loved ones, get your affairs in order…or maybe you just want to kill your boss! Get a purge going! Live a little! Because in one year’s time…well, to give you an idea…” Unicron then pointed his left pinky at the wall before a stream of light utterly devastated it, along with the buildings behind the studio and the mountains behind the city. “So, keep that in mind and I’ll see you next year. Also, feel free to pray to your god but, spoilers, I won’t be listening.”

“Aaannd CUT! That’s a wrap!” called Nemesis in the studio. The Terrorcons took to the air and flew off to the Mojave Desert. “You know, we’re gonna need a design for the arena,” he mused.

“Already covered,” replied Unicron as he tossed the blueprints to the Terrorcons. “I’ll leave the particulars to you lot. In the meantime, I’m gonna build me a castle near it!”

A countdown was on every screen that hosted the broadcast. 364 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 52 seconds remained. Orion Pax sighed as he looked through the remains of his base. He found an Energon convertor, a spare comms unit, his trailer, and a spare pistol. He transformed and hooked himself up to the trailer. “So, what’s the plan?” asked Jazz’s voice. Orion then noticed Jazz and Blackarachnia in vehicle mode with Sonic and Amy standing by them.

“…We need the Three Powers.” Answered Orion. “He said one year, I’m using it. I’m going to un-brick my connection to the Matrix. Alone.”

“That didn’t work for you last time, did it?” asked Blackarachnia.

“Remember what Sira taught you?” reminded Amy.

“This is my home too,” finished Sonic.

“Pax, you might as well accept it. We’re going with you,” said Jazz firmly. Orion grinned.

“In that case, everyone, let’s roll out!” The team then left the ruined base. They all have one year, will they win?

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 14: Instruments of Destruction)

TMC 14-9

“Only three more sacrifices to go!” laughed the Blendtrons.

“GRAGH! We should have listened to Misfire!” groaned Megatron. “Their blades deflected Decepticon weapons, turned their power back on them!”

“On they came, their blades trailing rivers of Energon!” laughed Misfire.

“Three more specials, and I will be complete!” cheered Spinister.

“Specials, my aft!” roared Megatron. “I never met a more useless bunch! …Of course! That’s it! Oh, Straxus screwed up now by getting these idiots even NEAR Unicron!”

“My Lord!” protested Krok.

“BE SILENT! I’m trying to save your Monoformer chassis! Unicron, listen to me! Straxus made a huge mistake for your goals! These are not special Decepticons! The truth is, they’re dispensable!”

“…You assume power makes one special!” laughed Unicron. “The Auto-troopers were needed to give me an idea of what a mere face in the crowd looks like, and the others are meant to show off how an individual comes about!”

“Such as the non-sequitur speaking oaf!” Unicron was only using Spinister to speak.

“Or the senile veteran who was built with a faulty targeting system,” this time, he used Misfire, “a statistical glitch who should have been killed in action when he was just a private!”

“Or the bureaucratic Con who did all his fighting in logistics!” Flywheels said this. Then all the Blendtrons spoke at once again.

“Or the cowardly bomb who wet himself in fear, thus permanently contaminating his payload!”

“…That’s why you didn’t explode when you were dropped?” Megatron asked Fulcrum.

“I’m not too keen on dying! Now, survival, oh WOW, huge fan! Put me down for some of that!”

“What about the former captain of the ship with the weirdest name in the Decepticon Fleet?” asked Unicron as he pointed to Crankcase. “His head wound was a failed suicide attempt when pirates boarded it! When he was demoted and the ship given to Krok, he shut out all forms of happiness!”

“And this jackhole right here,” grunted Crankcase, “is why I always said this planet was a dismal rock!”

“And, on the subject of Krok, let’s not forget that he was too afraid to transform, so he became a Monoformer! That action led to him being the officer with the worst casualty record among the Decepticons! The officer solely responsible for the Gigantion Fiasco!”


“No! My strategists were to blame for that!” begged Krok.

“All of them: identified as failures, marked down for execution, but saved from the Smelting Pool by my servant, Straxus!” laughed Unicron.

“Saved…to be sacrificed to our master!” cheered Nemesis Prime. As the fight went on, Bumblebee handed Fulcrum his spare pistol as he activated his weapons systems. Fulcrum then looked at the pistol, then at Crankcase…then got an idea.

“Crankcase, you still got a Tarbaulic Acid Pill on you?” he asked.

“You’re not weaseling your way out of this!” snapped Crankcase.

“It’s not for me, it’s for my payload.”


“Not if I jump correctly.” Soundwave, who was staying silent the whole trip, then piped up.

“Is help required?”

“…Dude, if I go off, you’ll be caught up in the explosion.”

“Sacrifice: necessary.”

“…Then what are we waiting for?”

“For us!” snapped Buzzsaw as he and Ratbat approached them.

“What’s going on?!” asked Frenzy. He, Laserbeak, and Ravage then felt a jolt go through their heads. They couldn’t hear Soundwave’s thoughts anymore!

“FULCRUM, TRANSFORM!” Fulcrum’s kibble then surrounded him as he turned into his bomb mode. Soundwave, Buzzsaw, and Ratbat transformed.

“Buzzsaw, Ratbat, Powerlinx!” commanded Soundwave as Fulcrum rested on top. The two cassettes joined at each side and Soundwave plowed through.

“SOUNDWAVE, COME BACK!” shouted Megatron.

“Operation: Absolution,” declared Soundwave. He briefly connected Fulcrum’s mind to his and, in the faster computer world of their brains, they sang Frank Sinatra’s My Way. It actually took 10 seconds before Soundwave made the fatal bump in the road, causing Fulcrum to fall off and hit the ground. The resulting explosion engulfed the four Decepticons as well as all the Blendtrons. The light shone through every part of the caverns, temporarily blinding everyone. They soon looked at the smoking crater where Soundwave, two of his cassettes, and Fulcrum once existed.

“…In light of your bravery,” muttered Megatron as he bowed his head in respect, “I hereby declare you toil and misery exempt. Rest well, Soundwave, Buzzsaw, and Ratbat of Xitra. You flare, you flicker, you fade.”

“They certainly did all that when they were alive!” laughed multiple voices. Everyone goggled as the Blendtrons stood up…with FULCRUM among their number! “You know,” mused the Blendtrons, “I have to admit, that was rather gutsy of Fulcrum. He actually showed off his bravery in his final moments. …Pity he had to take Soundwave with him. Oh, speaking of taking someone out in that regard, Nemesis, remember that power I gave you?”

“Use it?” asked Nemesis.


“I’ll need to separate Optimus from the group.”

“Leave that to me and your compatriots.” The Blendtrons and Terrorcons then leapt onto the group. Everyone was doing their best to keep Krok and Crankcase alive. The fight allowed Nemesis to get Optimus away from the group. He kept hammering on Optimus, making him dizzy.

“NOW, GRID OF DOMINATION!” shouted Nemesis. “SNUFF OUT THEIR LIGHTEST HOUR!” His chest opened up and moved his organic component out of the Grid’s way. The Grid then fired purple light at Optimus, putting him into immense pain! It then shrouded Optimus completely.

“OPTIMUS!” called Megatron. The light then faded, revealing not Optimus Prime, but Orion Pax! Orion got up and saw what had happened.

“Technical difficulties?” laughed Nemesis. “Don’t bother trying to fix it! Your connection to the Matrix is forever bricked!” Orion took the Matrix out of his chest and slapped it repeatedly, then tried to open it. …It was no use; the Matrix wouldn’t respond.

“You know, the thing about reading my moves,” called the Blendtrons to Megatron, “with Dark Energon, it makes it a two-way street! I could read YOUR thoughts too! Using the Matrix to put me back to sleep, I applaud that, but I wasn’t about to let you get me while I was constructing my new body! I WILL rise, one way or another! Now, Krok, Crankcase…you are required.”

“…It is time, then,” muttered Krok in defeat.

“Yes, it is your time!”

“…I’ve had enough of life anyway,” muttered Crankcase.

“Then it’s agreed. We embrace it,” declared Krok. “Crankcase, fall in.” Crankcase tossed a device to the ground that generated a force-field trapping everyone, minus Krok and Crankcase.


“It’s our time,” remarked Krok. “So, we march.”

“Into oblivion?” asked Crankcase.

“Into GLORIOUS oblivion.”

“That’s what I want to see!” cheered the Blendtrons. “Come to me! Become me!”

“Crankcase, head up! Head up and march!” Krok and Crankcase held their heads up, stood at attention, and marched up towards Unicron.

“We die now, Sir?” asked Crankcase.

“We die for the Decepticons! All our lives, we have waited for this! And now, THE TIME HAS COME!” The Blendtrons cut them down rather messily, then fired streams of light into the corpses.

“NO!” wailed Windblade.

Galvatron doubled over in pain at Autobot base. “Galvatron!” called Jazz.

“They…they failed!” he gasped. “Unicron is…coming!”

“Sweet ME, that would have been dull if I didn’t interrupt them!” growled all 13 Blendtrons. “I hate heroic speeches, don’t you? Oh well, as they said, it’s time!” A giant ball of purple light with a face then rose from the depths and surrounded the Blendtrons. They were then torn apart, wire by wire, and reassembled into a new form. It was a tank with spikes protruding from the front, a big gun barrel on the left, and a smaller one on the right.

“Now,” said the tank in just one voice, “let’s see what I can do! UNICRON, TRANFORM!” The sides of the tank split away and swung down while the cockpit folded into a chest unit. The assembly holding the front of the tank split in half and folded to become arms while feet unfolded from the bottom of the legs. A head with two curved horns then popped up from the chest and the optics flashed in a purple light. Unicron had finally completed his transformation! “Corporeal again! WHOLE AGAIN!”

“Orders, Lord Unicron?” asked Nemesis as the Terrorcons bowed.

“We strike the Autobot base. That’s where everyone is gathered!” Unicron opened his own Bridge portal. “TERRORCONS, IT’S FEASTING TIME!” He led his minions into the portal.

“TELETRAAN! BRIDGE US BACK!” ordered Megatron. He managed to disable the force-field and led everyone into the Ground Bridge.

It was utter chaos in the Autobot base. Everyone was firing on Unicron to no avail as the Terrorcons damaged the whole base, the protection spells Amy, Sira, and Optimus had cast finally becoming unraveled. The away team returned and joined in the fray, only to be ragdolled by Unicron. Megatron was doing his best to hold his own against the Chaos Bringer as Orion keyed in a command for Teletraan 1. His avatar popped up. “Orion, if I do that…!”

“The base is already lost!” insisted Orion. “I know I’m not a Prime right now, but I’m still the superior officer! Now get yourself to safety!”

“…Yes, Sir,” sighed Teletraan. He then vanished from the screen and all base-related servers exploded.

“…Smart bot,” mused Unicron as he continued thrashing Megatron. Soon, everyone was gasping at the feet of Unicron and the Terrorcons.

“Wh…whu…how…why…?” stammered Megatron.

“Because you’re green!” laughed Unicron.

“…You mean…”

“No, not like Makeshift! Although, I CAN feel the envy from you two.”

“Oh, can we NOT!” protested Makeshift.

“I mean that you’re a novice, an amateur! You’re surrounded by people who’ve seen more action in a week than you have in your entire life, even taking the first war into account! Hell, Orion’s just 160 and he defeated a rogue wizard, made Teletraan 1 sane, and found out the names of the bots that were sacrificed all those years ago in a botched ritual to make weapons in my name!”

“Wait, that old story’s true?!” yelped Megatron.

“They’re still talking to me,” muttered Orion.

“And the worst part is, trying to brute-force your way to victory isn’t even new! Stop me if this sounds familiar.” Unicron then cleared his throat before he adopted a “tough-guy” stance. “RAGH! I’M MEGATRON! I BEAT EVERYONE IN KAON! I’M THE NEW LORD OF THE DECEPTICONS EVEN THOUGH I DON’T KNOW WHAT DECEPTICONS REALLY BELIEVE IN!” He then dropped the act. “See? Anyone can do it.”

“…That’s a horrible impression,” muttered Megatron.

“But NOT inaccurate,” remarked Orion.


“For my sake, I bet even Starscream or Skywarp could have done it!” laughed Unicron. “They just weren’t stupid enough to try! And, considering that they yeeted themselves off Mobius, that threshold is VAST! Now, how about you stop flailing uselessly, calm yourself down, and quit acting like Vegeta?” Megatron snarled, then he fell to his knees and put his hands to the floor as his face turned to one of defeat. “I don’t know what’s more broken, the base, your friends, or your spirit.”

“Just kill me already.”

“Spirit, it is!” Unicron then pointed his palm to Megatron as a small ball of purple energy formed. The Chaos Bringer’s smile then faded. “Seriously, way to bring down the mood.”


“A game? Hardly! If this were a game, I’d be having fun!”

“…Fine! Destroy this world! But, know this! If and when you do, you’ll still have a whole universe resisting you!” Unicron held his pose for a little longer as he considered Megatron’s words.

“…Huh. You know what, you’re right.” The energy sphere then vanished as Unicron dropped his hand. “Terrorcons, change of plans!”

“What?” asked Nemesis.

“What?” repeated Megatron.

“Disciples of Primus and friends, turn those frowns upside down!” declared Unicron. “You’re not dying today!”

“Wait, what?!” called Megatron. “Why?!”

“Careful, kiddo, don’t want that gift horse to BITE you! You’ve just given me an idea, that’s all. What WOULD I accomplish if I just destroyed the planet now? I’d have people resisting me all across the universe, not surrendering to fear immediately, and making me expend worthless energy in putting down resistance groups. No, the whole universe needs to await my arrival in fear at the same time!”

“Oh, what in the Pit are you planning now?!”

“My revolution which WILL be televised! Go take care of your own and be sure to watch the news!” Unicron and the Terrorcons then left through the front door before transforming and leaving the ruined base.

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 14: Instruments of Destruction)

TMC 14-8

As they dug their way through, Bumblebee decided to get some answers. “Tell me, Fulcrum,” he asked, “you’re a kamikaze trooper, right? How come you’re so willing to risk your life for bots who would treat you as expendable?”

“How come you’re so willing to risk your life for bots who want to enforce their brand of order at any cost just to save their shells and feel good about themselves, Prisoner Bumblebee?” replied Fulcrum.

“You’ve got a lot to learn about Autobots, pal.”

“And you of Decepticons.” The rocks then tumbled away, startling both mechs for a bit. “…Teamwork, hm. Looks like it can clear away a lot of things.”

“Nice work. …Ah, slag! There’s a fork in the road! All right, left or right?”

“…Left. Prisoners first.” Bumblebee shined his lights down the left tunnel. It looked like the beams had a limited range before they were swallowed up by darkness.

“…Pretty dark down there.”

“Not as dark as the right!” Fulcrum’s voice was almost an octave higher.

“…Fulcrum, are you…experiencing a churning sensation in your fuel pump?”


“Maybe a little light-headed? Caused by the Spark pulsing at a faster rate that drains the Energon needed for the brain. …Oh, and the weak leg frames.”

“Is…Is there…a name…to these symptoms?!”

“It’s called fear.” Bumblebee’s intakes were cycling air a little faster. “I feel it whenever something’s wrong. …It sounds like you do as well.”

“Are you calling me a coward?!”

“No, Fulcrum! I’m calling you a fellow sufferer!” Fulcrum’s terrified face explained his whole mood.

“…Oooo, I’m a disgrace to the Decepticons!”

“Fulcrum, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I’ve often thought of admitting to these…disgusting impulses! Now…with no weapons, no comms…nowhere to run to!”

“Grim, isn’t it?” asked Bumblebee. “But, there IS a bright side to all this.”


“We’re the only ones down here.” A noise cut Bumblebee’s statement down. An apt description, considering it sounded like swords being drawn.

“…That…came…from the left!” gulped Fulcrum.

“Yes, it did. …I was rather hoping I had imagined it.”

“Then…then I’LL go first! To the right!”

“Hold on! You DID say ‘Prisoners first’! No need to risk yourself unnecessarily!” It was then that seven sets of purple lights slowly appeared, along with seven wicked grins. Fulcrum then observed something.

“D-do you see it?!” squeaked Fulcrum. “Surrounding the lights?! I-In the darkness?!”

“No. All I see are the lights. I-It’s too dark t-to s-s-see anything else!” Bumblebee’s fear was starting to take over.

“B-But doesn’t it l-look like th-th-the darkness itself…is alive?!”

“You’re s-seeing things, Fulcrum! F-Fear will do th-that!”


“A lie, Fulcrum!” replied seven voices in unison. Fulcrum and Bumblebee then looked down the tunnel. “Seven normals and six specials…” remarked the lights. The shadows then formed many hands.

“See?!” whimpered Fulcrum. “The darkness! It’s…it’s…MOVING! IT’S ALIVE!”

“…all blended to become me!” continued the lights.

“It’s not just darkness!” wailed Bumblebee! “It’s Unicron! HE’S AFTER US! RUN!” Bumblebee and Fulcrum then ran down the right tunnel, screaming in terror, with Unicron’s extensions in hot pursuit, laughing all the while.

Bruticus laughed as he was assaulted with his opponents’ strongest attacks. Soon enough, the Cyber Keys locked their hosts’ powers again, giving Bruticus enough time to toss them to the ground hard! “Is that all you got?” he taunted. “Bruticus is disappointed. You are all supposed to be stronger than me! You are supposed to be examples of teamwork! But look at you now, lying at Bruticus’ feet! Bruticus is teamwork incarnate!”

“Are you sure you’re about to win?” asked Silver as he panted. “You’re burning through a lot of Energon, and I’d hate for you to waste it.”

“…Why mention Energon?” asked Bruticus. It was then that the Maximus started flashing and chanting.

“Timing out. Timing out. Timing out.”

“Timing out?” repeated Bruticus. “…Wait, not the…?!”

“Hypothesis confirmed!” declared Shockwave. “Transformers weren’t meant to be in a gestalt state! The Maximus serves to unite certain Transformers, then undoes the combination process after a certain amount of time so the individual minds are safe! At rest, you stay in a combined state for much longer! In combat, you only have an hour!”

“NOT TRUE!” wailed Bruticus.

“Well, Bruty,” laughed Galvatron, “looks like you’re gonna be crying like a little glitch!”

“SHUT UP!!” Bruticus then took to the air and was surrounded in an aura of white light. “WE’LL SEE HOW YOU STAND UP TO EVERYTHING BRUTICUS HAS GOT!!” He then thrust his arms to his enemies. “TASTE BRUTICUS’ UNITED WRATH!” HE fired every ounce of energy at his opponents and the whole island was engulfed. The light died down, but the dust had yet to settle. Bruticus was panting.

“10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4,” droned the Maximus.

“Hard enough for you?” asked Bruticus.

“3. 2. 1. Time over.” Bruticus then felt a jolt and his limbs fell off before each component returned to their individual robot mode. The Combaticons floated in the air for a few seconds before making their way down.

“Who’s crying now?” asked Onslaught.

“Take friggin’ that!” snarled Brawl.

“I wonder how long it will take for the Maximus to recharge so we can recombine again?” asked Vortex.

“Roughly half-an-hour,” answered Swindle. “I managed to find a sort of operator’s manual inside the Maximus’ code.”

“It would be prudent for all of us to read it,” suggested Blast-off.

“Doing so WOULD allow for more effective strategies in combined form,” mused Onslaught.

“You’ll get the chance once we’re done with you!” snarled Galvatron’s voice. The Combaticons turned in fear to see everyone still standing as the dust finally settled. Onslaught and his brothers couldn’t move, frozen in fear. “Like I told you lot, like a glitch!”

“Sh…shut up! JUST SHUT UP!” shouted Onslaught as tears leaked from his optics in frustration.

“Oh, Sweet Amalgamous Prime! You’re actually crying!”


“Honestly, now I just feel bad. Usually I would just thrash whoever opposed me, but, with YOU, Combaticons, I’ve gotten rather attached. It’s sort of like putting down Ol’ Yeller.”

“How is THAT a thing?!” asked Rodimus.

“I believe we’reARUGH!” Galvatron clutched his head in pain and fell to the ground.

“What is it?!” asked Shadow. “What’s wrong?!”

“It…It’s Unicron!” gasped Galvatron. “He’s got…got the Specials!”

“Hiding in a cave from Unicron!” grumbled Crankcase. “What’s the universe come to?!”

“It’s about to be turned into ashes if we don’t hurry!” urged Megatron.

“Megatron, we can’t go any further without a breather!” argued Optimus. “Not all of us are built to withstand this amount of Dark Energon!” Sludge moaned in concurrence.

“RUN, YOU LUMBERING IDIOT! RUN!” shouted a new voice.

“Is that…?!” asked Optimus.

“WE CAN’T OUTRUN HIM FOREVER!” called another voice. “WE NEED TO HIDE!”

“I don’t believe it!” muttered Megatron.

“Nor do I!” grunted Flywheels as Bumblebee and Fulcrum rounded a corner. “FULCRUM!” shouted Flywheels.

“Flywheels! Sir!” yelped Fulcrum as he saluted.

“You’re stopping to salute?!” protested Bumblebee. “Who are you more afraid of?!”

“That’s a good question,” rumbled Megatron.

“Oh, it’s you.” Krok then approached Fulcrum.

“Fulcrum, you said ‘hide’ earlier. Hide is not a word used by a TRUE Decepticon.

“With all due respect,” gulped Bumblebee, “we need to table that!” Bumblebee then saw Optimus. “Sir, we have to get out of here! He’s right behind us!”

“Who is?” asked Optimus.

“I am!” laughed multiple voices as one.

“It’s him! It’s Unicron!” explained Bumblebee as the darkness with evil, ginning faces appeared by the group. A new face was added. “The darkness behind! He IS the darkness!”

“What of the coward?” asked Krok.

“Bumblebee’s right,” rumbled Megatron. “The time to consider what does or doesn’t constitute a true Decepticon is not here, not now! Not while the Blendtrons are at our feet!”

“Is that who they are?!” asked Bumblebee.

“According to Misfire, they’re renegade Decepti-drones assimilated into Unicron’s will!”

“A mere trick for the 9th Platoon!” laughed the darkness’ faces as the shadows shrank to reveal Transformers built exactly the same with an Autobot symbol on their chests.

“Auto-troopers?!” yelped Pyra Magna.

“Looks like Insecticons and Basic Auto-troopers,” muttered Optimus. The seven were two jets, a tank, two cars, and two insects. They all stood behind one Krok recognized.

“Spinister! He’s alive! He’s safe!” he cheered.

“Is he?” asked Spinister.

“…Doesn’t he mean something about the birds and the bees?” asked Crankcase.

“Surprised by him not speaking in non-sequitur?” asked Spinister.

“Spinister, what’s going on?” asked Krok.

“Spinister can’t hear you right now!” laughed a voice Optimus and Megatron knew. “Mind if we take a message?” Nemesis Prime and the Terrorcons then stepped out of the shadows. Krok then saw one of the Terrorcons.

“Governor Straxus?” he asked. “Why are you here?”

“He’s here to make sure his plan worked!” answered one of the insect-mechs.

“He, Makeshift, and Deceptitran led me to Spinister!” laughed a jet-mech.

“They cut him into pieces,” cheered Spinister as he drew a sword, “and I easily absorbed his mind and essence into me!”

“What are you talking about, Spinister?!” demanded Krok. “Where did you get that sword?!”

“Don’t you get it?!” wailed Sira. “He’s dead! Just like the guys behind him are dead!”

“They’re right here, not dead!” argued Krok.

“They ARE dead!” insisted Misfire. “I saw them! They…!”

“Silence!” ordered Krok.

“The Auto-troopers are dead! Spinister is dead!” At this point, all the Blendtrons were speaking in unison, Spinister included. “And soon, YOU shall be dead! Do you know me, Followers of Primus?!”

“…Unicron! The Chaos Bringer!” hissed Optimus.

“Good! Now know me as Unicron…YOUR DESTROYER!” The Blendtrons leapt at the team and clashed mightily! Blades against blades. Optimus then shoved his opponent back and addressed the Blendtrons.

“I humbly request your ear, Lord Unicron!” The Terrorcons arched an eyebrow as the Blendtrons looked on.

“…And what would a Prime be so compelled to say to me?” asked the Blendtrons in unison.

“I make this appeal, not for myself, but for this planet which you constitute and the beings who inhabit it. Human and Mobian kind rely on you for life, sustenance! Your resurrection would only result in the destruction of species which evolved from the seeds of your very greatness!”

“So, these Mobians and humans, you consider them MY progeny?”

“Indeed!” The Blendtrons then snarled.

“PARASITES! They, too, shall know my wrathful hand…once I am finished with YOU!” The fight resumed and Spinister fired a beam of purple energy into Optimus’ chest, knocking him to the floor. “The line of Primes has grown weak in my absence! And, thus, you shall FALL!”

“That outcome is inevitable,” gasped Optimus, “but not on this day!” He then fired on Spinister with his gun, not stopping until Spinister grabbed his hand and flung him aside. He then grabbed his sword and sliced Misfire in half. Flywheels tried to run but was instantly surrounded.

“Primus, save my Spark! Primus, save my Spark!! Primus, save my Spark!!! PRIMUS, SAVE MY SPARK!!!!” His prayer was unanswered as he was run through the Spark Chamber with the sword. Spinister then fired streams of purple light into the two dead Cons. He then stopped as the corpses moved, and their wound healed. Their optics were now glowing purple, and their faces had a wicked grin.

“Yes, Disciple of Primus! On this very day!” This time, Flywheels and Misfire joined in the voices. “For Unicron may be one, but we, all, are UNICRON!”

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 14: Instruments of Destruction)

TMC 14-7

“This business about Straxus’ orders, what do YOU think, Flywheels?” asked Krok as Optimus and his team briefed Sonic and his group on what was going on.

“It’s not my place to think about someone’s orders,” replied Flywheels.


“I would recommend, however, that we should retrieve Straxus’ orders so Megatron would know what’s going on.” Krok arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t believe that they have anything to do with Windblade?”

“I believe only in the glory of the Decepticon Empire.” Flywheels split into his two alt-modes as he finished.

“Ah, yes!” Krok was feeling patriotic. “The glory of the Decepticon Empire!”

“But, need I remind you, Straxus does NOT tolerate incompetence. He once had every tenth bot in an entire platoon melted down to make his axe, just for being lined up two degrees in an unfavorable direction.”

“Right, right.”

“Actually, left.” Flywheels recombined into his robot mode as a call came in.

“HORROR STORIES! WE LIVE IN A TREE OF ELVES!” It was on an open frequency, so everyone heard that.

“…What in…?” asked Optimus.

“It’s Spinister,” explained Misfire. “His vocabulator’s damaged. I understand how he speaks. Spinister, could you repeat that? What do you mean rogue, sword-wielding Decepti-drones?” The reply was Spinister’s scream of agony and fear and the sound of blades slicing into metal!

“Give me that!” snapped Krok as he snatched Misfire’s comms. “Spinister! Spinister, report!” A demonic shriek was his only reply before it was replaced with static.

“That…that’s gonna give me nightmares,” gulped Sira. Krok then closed the channel.

“It’s clear enough! The fugitive Autobot is responsible!”

“You mean Bumblebee?!” asked Trema.

“Who else could it have been?” asked Flywheels.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” asked Misfire.

“Denied,” replied Krok. “We need to concentrate on finding the yellow runt!”

“Krok, I promise you,” assured Optimus, “whoever or whatever killed your friend, it was NOT my scout, Bumblebee.”

“I suppose you’re gonna tell me that ‘Bumblebee’ would not kill?”

“No, just that he prefers guns to swords. Bumblebee knows he’s not the strongest, so he would prefer some distance between him and his enemy.”

“Besides, with the Omnic Runes littering the whole place,” muttered Misfire, “It could very well be Unicron.”

“Yes, it’s very likely…wait, what?!” asked Krok.

“I’m wondering much the same,” said Megatron.

“You know what the runes are?” quizzed Flywheels.

“The Omnic Runes? They’re what allow Unicron to monitor his body’s insides,” explained Misfire.

“They’re his eyes and ears?!” yelped Victorion.

“That is why I’m a little nervous.”

“I know about them because I’m using Dark Energon to anticipate Unicron’s actions,” remarked Megatron. “How do YOU know about them?”

“I asked for permission to speak and was denied by Krok.”

“Answer my question!”

“Because I was on this planet 2,000 years ago as we were defeated, Sir. The entire 9th platoon was trapped in a cave system much like this one. It was a standard mission, Sir. We would tunnel underground, rise from below, seize the populace above, then claim it as Decepticon territory. Our target was Beijing as the Treaty of Beijing was about to be signed, thus ending the Great War. We were ordered to strike and kill everyone…but they were waiting.”

“The Chinese Military?”

“No, Sir, the Blendtrons.”

“…Blendtrons?” asked Krok.

“Decepti-drones taken from our numbers that had their minds assimilated into Unicron’s. Swordsmen.”

“Swords?!” scoffed Crankcase.

“Against Decepticon military might?” muttered Flywheels.

“And Decepti-drones?” remarked Megatron.

“You lot didn’t see them,” replied Misfire. “They had blades capable of deflecting our weapons, turning Decepticon fire back on itself. I lost 85% of that grand company. …We were deemed too expensive to reform; thus the Treaty of Beijing was signed.”

“Might I ask, how many were they?” asked Windblade.

“They numbered seven,” answered Misfire.

“Seven armies?” quizzed Grimlock.


“Seven regiments?” asked Thundercracker.


“Seven divisions?” This came from Optimus.

“Seven bots! They were a team of seven bots!” Misfire drew in a breath to calm himself. “I saw them and ordered the guns to be silenced. On they came, their blades trailing rivers of Energon. There was only one thing to do. I ordered everyone to seal up the caves and evacuate. We all barely escaped into the Wulong Valley, where we were picked up by Sentinel Prime himself. He didn’t believe our story and neither did anyone else on Cybertron.”

“Because your story has NO credibility whatsoever!” scoffed Krok. “Seven sword-wielding Decepti-drones couldn’t defeat a Decepticon army on the march!”

“Seven ordinary ones, no,” remarked Megatron.

“But ones assimilated into Unicron’s service?” asked Windblade.

“How could he do that when he has no physical body?!” argued Krok.

“He’s got powers beyond what we know,” replied Megatron. “Misfire, that noise over the comms as Spinister died, that’s what you heard in China?”

“Yes, Sir. The same slicing of metal and laughing as they reduced the 9th Platoon to 15% of its original numbers, annihilating us.”

“This is absurd!” scoffed Crankcase.

“I saw what I saw! I heard what I heard! I know what I know!”

“You also believe in the Necrobot!”

“ENOUGH!” roared Megatron. “We’ve tarried too long! Krok, you and your men will join us as we press on towards Unicron! Are there any more of your soldiers left?”

“Well, there IS Fulcrum, a member of K-squad,” replied Krok. “He’s pursuing the yellow runt.”

“Good, we could use a kamikaze troop like him.”

“A WHAT?!” yelped Optimus.

“That’s what the K means. They transform into bombs and have an explosive payload in them. Literal suicide bombs.”

“No kamikaze attacks! I want everyone alive!”

“No point in using him anyway!” grunted Crankcase. “His payload’s inert. If he transformed into bomb mode, he won’t go boom.”

“Oh, for the love of…! Let’s just go already!” snapped Megatron. Victorion disassembled into her separate components before they headed off.

Fulcrum groaned as he got up. “Ooff! …I’m alive? By Nexus Prime, I’m alive!”

“No need to go on about it!” replied Bumblebee.

“The runt!” yelped Fulcrum. “My orders! I…WHERE’S MY GUN?!”

“Looking for this?” asked Bumblebee as he pulled out Fulcrum’s gun.

“That weapon is Decepticon property! Give it back!”

“Here, for all the good it will do you. The power pack was damaged in the fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I was going to use it to shoot upwards to signal for help. After it failed to fire and I figured out why, I thought better of it.” Fulcrum then looked at his surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“No idea. Some sort of warren. Makes me wonder if Unicron’s planning to use this to house an army.”

“…Did…did you just…?”

“One of his servants beat us to it. He’s festering at the center of this planet.”

“…Unicron’s…HERE?!” Fulcrum was shaking in his proton boots.

“Come on, aren’t you K-squad? You shouldn’t be scared.” Bumblebee activated his headlights and looked around. They stopped on an opening blocked by rocks. “Hey! I think there might be a way through!”

“…To the surface?” asked Fulcrum.

“You DO realize we fell 30 stories, right?! It was only the fact that we transformed that we’re still talking about it!” Bumblebee shifted some of the rocks aside and looked through. “Hey! Over here! There’s a passage!” Fulcrum looked through the opening.

“But…but it leads…deeper underground!”

“Well, we’re going nowhere at the moment!”

“Besides, the way is blocked.”

“Then help me unblock it!” Fulcrum hesitated.

“I must…I must confirm with my superiors.” Fulcrum tapped the side of his head. “…MY COMMS! THEY’RE GONE!”

“I took that off you too. Leveled the playing field a bit. I tried calling my buddies on my own comms, but the fall damaged the circuits. I had to manually transform you to robot mode to check your own comms and then smashed them when I got to them.”


“To stop you from calling your friends for help, obviously!”

“WHY?!” Bumblebee stopped to explain.

“Because they would have killed me! Look, try to understand; I want to get out of here, but I can’t shift this rubble alone and I doubt you can either. Either we put aside our differences or we die.”

“Then…then I would rather die!” Fulcrum’s stance, his voice, even his face didn’t match his words.

“Oh, fine! Then we’ll just sit here and stare one another to death!”

“You don’t understand! Consorting with the enemy will give me a one-way ticket onto the D.J.D’s list!”

“I won’t tell if you don’t, Goggles!”

“…M…My name’s Fulcrum.”

“…I’m Bumblebee. Look, if we work together to get out of this and see our commanders shooting each other, then we’ll forget this ever happened and try to kill one another. Deal?”

“…I…I cannot accept. …It WOULD be different if you were my prisoner.”

“All right! If it means that much to you, I’m your prisoner! Now, do we have a deal?”

“If you are my prisoner…then, yes! Now, Prisoner Bumblebee, you take care of the rocks on the right, I’ll deal with the left!”

“Understood.” Bumblebee and Fulcrum then began their labors.

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 14: Instruments of Destruction)

TMC 14-6

“Hailing Fulcrum!” the comms announced. “Fulcrum, this is Misfire! Come in!”

“Fulcrum receiving!” replied Fulcrum.

“State your location, my boy,” ordered Misfire.

“Entering subterranean room in pursuit of yellow runt. …Wait! I see him!” Fulcrum then shouted to Bumblebee. “Yellow runt, halt or be blasted to plasma!”

“I HAVE halted, see?!” called Bumblebee. Fulcrum then grinned as he reported to Misfire.

“The runt has reached the edge of a crack in the floor! He’s trapped! An easy target!”

“Listen to me!” shouted Bumblebee. “The ground’s not safe! It’s riddled with cracks! If you keep stomping, it’s gonna give way and we’re gonna plummet helplessly to our deaths! So please, please, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” Fulcrum stopped.

“Fulcrum, report!” called Misfire.

“The ground is heavily cracked. The runt claims it’s not safe to proceed.”

“What was that?!” snarled Bumblebee.

“Th…s…m t…sm…!” Misfire’s order became garbled.

“Communications impaired!” replied Fulcrum. “Confirm orders concerning the runt.”

“WHO’RE YOU CALLING A MICRO-SIZED HALF-PINT WHO STOPPED GROWING UP BECAUSE HE DOESN’T DRINK ENERAX!!” Bumblebee’s rant was accented with him stamping his feet, exacerbating the cracks in the floor. He heard the cracking of rock splitting beneath his feet and realized his mistake. “Oh, I am become error! It’s breaking up!”

“I know that!” replied Fulcrum. “It’s just a signal-fluctuation.”

“Not that, you twig! The ground! The ground is breaking up!”

“R…ea…F…m!” came the garbled reply of Misfire.

“He says the ground is…” Fulcrum couldn’t finish his explanation as the floor gave way and sent the two bots tumbling down.

“Might I ask, Sir,” quizzed Flywheels, “what should we do with Windblade and her retinue?”

“I’m working on it, Flywheels,” replied Krok.

“Excuse me, Krok,” called Windblade, “I must admit, I’m curious about those orders you mentioned.”

“Decepticon Battle Orders may not be discussed with enemy combatants; you know me better than that!”

“We’re prisoners, not combatants!” argued Megatron.

“You might plan to use your weapons when we’re the most vulnerable!”

“Then why didn’t you take them?! You haven’t done ANYTHING practical, have you?! Seems to me, all you’ve done, since we’ve met, Napoleon, is strut around with that swagger stick of yours, shouting! Well, color me unimpressed!”

“…What is this ‘Napoleon’? Is it an insult?”

“Famous Human Ruler of an old Mobian country when the planet was called Earth,” explained Windblade. “Noted for his strategic brilliance.”

“And for being five foot nothing!” muttered Megatron.

“…He had…five feet?” asked Krok. Crankcase was searching everyone all the while and then found the symbol on Megatron’s chest.

“What’s up with siding with Autobots, soldier?” he growled. “You really forgot who the enemy is? You young’uns! Always forgetting the glories of the past and wasting time on a dismal rock!”

“Examine my Badge fully, Crankcase,” replied Megatron. Crankcase arched an eyebrow.

“…Interesting choice of words, soldier.” Crankcase complied. “Besides, with you guys, the REAL form of address is…is……is…! Er, Krok!”

“What’s the matter, Crankcase?!”

“Erm, you might want to come here! You too, Flywheels!” Krok and Flywheels looked at each other before approaching Crankcase. They saw the full Badge in Crankcase’s hand, then looked at the chest cavity in Megatron’s torso…then they fearfully put two and two together.”

“…Hi. I’m the current Lord of All Decepticons. You may call me Megatron, or Lord, or Master, or Sir, or a combination of them.” The three yelped before Crankcase put the Badge back into Megatron’s chest and polished it before joining Krok and Flywheels in a salute. “And the skinny bot with the antennae is my younger brother and sworn enemy, Optimus Prime, and Windblade is my mother. Ordinarily, I would love nothing more than to see them watch as their faction crumbles, but we’re pressed for time and I need Optimus’ connection to the Matrix.”

“What for, my Lord?” asked Krok.

“To defeat Unicron. He’s festering in the center of this planet and will need to be put back to sleep. You wish for orders? Follow us into the depths of this planet. Make sure your whole team knows of this.”

“Understood, Sir!”

“…Come to think of it, your original orders…”

“What about them?”

“The thing is, Mother didn’t think to come here until she received transfer orders from Optimus a little over six months ago. When did your commanding officer tell you to come here?”

“…About…a year ago, local planetary time, Sir.”

“Then I’m curious how your commanding officer could possibly have known to find her here, given the slowest possible warp from Cybertron to here.”

“…My Lord, with all due respect, do you REALLY expect me to question the orders of Straxus? That’s a one-way ticket to the Smelting Pool of Polyhex behind Darkmount, and I’m not eager to take a swim in molten metal!”

“The point is, what if your original mission had nothing to do with us?” asked Windblade.

“But it MUST do!”

“But, if it doesn’t, then you would be neglecting the orders of a superior officer which wouldn’t go down well with Straxus, thus earning you a one-way ticket to the Smelting Pool.”

“What’s this about the Smelting Pool?” called Misfire’s voice. He approached the group with his prisoners in tow. The Dyno-bots were dragging Thundercracker, all of them in alt-mode, while Sonic and his friends were walking behind them with their hands behind their heads.

“Let them go,” ordered Megatron.

“I don’t take orders from prisoners,” scoffed Misfire.

“He’s not our prisoner, Misfire! He’s our Lord!” Misfire’s optics flickered in confusion at Krok’s statement. “The guy with the BADGE!”

“Oh?” asked Misfire. “…Oh…OH!” He then saluted Megatron.

“Now that THAT’S cleared up,” said Megatron, “release them at once!”

“Yes, my Lord!” Misfire keyed in a command and the mode-locks on the Transformers fell away. They then transformed and the Dyno-bots leveled their weapons at Misfire.

“HOLD!” called Optimus.

“Hold?!” argued Slash as her sword’s blade rotated in a menacing manner. “This creature surprised us with the mode-locks! He deserves to die like the dog he is!”

“There’s been a slight breakdown in communication, but now they all know who’s the head Decepticon here! Megatron got them in order!”

“…I’m still watching him!” growled Grimlock.

“Of course.”

Bruticus was swatting all the shots aside while firing his missiles. “Oh what a day! WHAT A LOVELY DAY!”

“Guys, hitting him ain’t working!” called Rodimus.

“Shockwave, are the Combiner Plugs the only weakness?!” called Shadow. “Bruticus is obviously wise to that scheme since he’s protecting those areas!”

“I…I can’t…I don’t…” Shockwave, for once, was floundering for answers.

“Okay, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but while you’re having your crisis, WE’RE ALL GETTING KILLED OUT HERE!”

“But you don’t understand, Bruticus is the most perfect Combiner, made of five soldiers with a tactician commanding the whole operation! He could easily drain our…drain our…wait, the Combaticons are arrogant kids!” Shadow then arched an eyeridge.


“More like finally getting a hypothesis. Shadow, how long have we been fighting that behemoth?”

“About 40 minutes.”

“Then now’s a good time for us Transformers to use the Cyber-keys! At least 20 more minutes of combat should do it!”

“…You have a plan?”

“I just remembered that I studied a Maximus before.”

“…20 minutes?”

“A rough estimate, but yes.” Shadow then called everyone on the comms.

“Guys, Pour on the power! We got 20 minutes to pull something!”

“And it will be Bruticus’ fist up your asses!” roared Bruticus as he fired missiles from his left fore-arm. Everyone got out of the way.

“CYBER KEY POWER!” The Transformers invoked their Cyber Keys and unlocked their hidden abilities. Rodimus had a large bow and arrow in his hand and Knock-out was twirling an electro-staff. They all charged at Bruticus, ready for round two!