Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 3: Orion's Journey)

TMC 3-5

Optimus was flying through the skies in vehicle mode, just doing his job. Oh, sorry, not as Prime, no, he’s always doing it. I was referring to his Mobian job. It dawned on the Autobots that the people of Mobius won’t accept Cybertronian currency, so they got themselves some jobs so they can stay at the base and not have to mooch off G.U.N. funding. Prowl joined the local police force. Jazz returned to Dancitron, and business picked back up. Ratchet was hired by a hospital as a doctor after he passed the necessary exams with flying colors. Ironhide worked at a shooting range near the police station Prowl worked at. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper became pizza toppers at a pizza joint. Optimus got into trucking. To do his job, Tails had found some Cybertronian tech which works as a subspace trailer that pops up whenever Optimus needs it. Right now, he was hauling some nitrous oxide for a major dental office. He was still concentrating on the sky lanes, but Shadow’s remark about magic was still playing in his mind. “Sparks and mumbo jumbo!” he hissed in an imitation of Shadow’s voice. “Yeah, right! You saw the Scarlet Specter, didn’t you?! What are your powers even classified as if they’re not magic?!”

“Grand Prime Rig,” called a voice over his radio, “this here’s dispatch. We got ourselves another voice squawkin’, wantin’ to give you the low down on somethin’ huge.” Optimus rolled his holo-form’s eyes. He made the call two-way.

“Teletraan, that was awful,” he replied.

“But not inaccurate,” remarked Teletraan.

“You didn’t even use any C.B. code!” protested Optimus.

“I never practiced, okay!” snapped Teletraan.

“What’s this ‘something huge’ you wanted to talk about?” quizzed Optimus.

“Oddly enough,” answered Teletraan, “a green Mobian rabbit wanted to talk to you. Before you ask, I don’t know how she found the base. As I was trying to find the breach, she said she wanted to meet you in the downtown area.”

“That security breach is disconcerting,” muttered Optimus as he landed near the dental office. “I’ll talk to the rabbit. You find that breach and plug it up. I don’t want Shockwave or Eggman getting to our intel.”

“Yes, Sir!” obliged Teletraan. Once the call ended, Optimus helped the other dentists with safely unloading the laughing gas. Optimus then asked the dentist helping unload the trailer what the gas is used for.

“Mainly for anesthetic when there’s major dental work going on,” explained the dentist.

“You make your patients laugh when there’s a root canal going on?” mumbled Optimus. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but your planet’s customs are strange.”

“I’m sure I’d say the same if I were on your planet,” countered the dentist.

“In any case,” replied Optimus as he got a canister out, “this is the last one.”

“Thanks, Prime!” bid the dentist. Optimus nodded farewell, made the trailer disappear, and took off to the downtown area after telling his dispatch that the delivery was a success. Once he arrived, he saw Trema in her Mobian disguise.

“You must be the rabbit that gave my A.I. a security scare,” mused Optimus.

“Sorry about that,” apologized Trema. “A friend gave me clearance.”

“Who?” asked Optimus as he arched an eyebrow.

“Well,” stammered Trema, “in the interests of…”

“Master Trema,” called the Scarlet Specter’s voice, “enough. He’s going to know eventually.” The Scarlet Specter stepped out of an alley.

“It’s too soon!” protested Trema.

“Trema?” repeated Optimus. “That’s a common Nebulan name for girls.”

“Crap,” swore Trema.

“He needs to know,” replied the Specter as her hands went for the mask and hair. When they were pulled off, Optimus’ eyes went wide when he saw Amy’s face.

“AMY?!” he squawked.

“Not so loud!” yelped Amy as she quickly put the wig and mask back on.

“Wait, what’s going on?!” demanded Optimus. “Amy, are you the reason Ms. Trema managed to get through Autobase Omega 1’s security?” Amy shuffled her feet. Optimus sighed. “Amy, we may be friends, but the Autobots are still a military group. You can’t give access to our base to just anyone. Teletraan had a bit of a scare. He was convinced it was Eggman trying to steal our secrets, at worst, Shockwave. Any more requests to give your friends access needs to be cleared with me. Are we clear?”

“…Yes, Prime,” mumbled Amy.

“Good,” replied Optimus. He then turned to Trema. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to surrender your access to my base as this whole thing needs to be secret.”

“Oh,” groaned Trema, “very well.” She gave Optimus her access card and Optimus put it in his pocket.

“Now, with that cleared up,” declared Optimus, “what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It’s about the Nebulan graffiti,” answered Trema. “Amy showed me what it looked like through her memories and I swear the handwriting looks familiar to me.”

“Can you translate it?” asked Optimus. “My omni-linguistics can’t pick up on that chicken scratch.”

“Let’s see,” muttered Trema as she made a magic image of the graffiti. Nebulan writing is read from the top right corner to the bottom left corner, on a diagonal. “… ‘Come and get me you bucket of…blots?’ Oh! Bolts!”

“It’s directed to the Autobots?” asked Amy.

“Why would a Nebulan bother with defacing a billboard?” quizzed Optimus. “And who on Nebulos doesn’t know how to spell bolts?”

“Well, there was my brother, Krunk,” mused Trema, “but he’s in prison right now.”

“Guys, shh!” hissed Amy. “I think I hear something.” The conversation stopped as all auditory input, both technological and otherwise, were dialed up to maximum. Optimus guessed where the sound was coming from. It was in the alley Amy had come out. Trema led the way. They looked up the building wall to find more graffiti. Optimus started reading it.

“‘Autobots smell like…’ okay, that’s just rude!” he protested. Then they heard the noise again. They turned to see a Nebulan man in red robes spraying the wall in writing. Trema’s eyes went wide as she recognized the Nebulan. She then dropped the Mobian disguise and grew to her full height.

“Hey! Krunk!” she shouted. The Nebulan turned, his eyes popped, and to finish the awkward silence, he threw a fireball at the ground before taking off in flight. Amy closed her fist and put out the flames while Trema took a broom as tall as her out of subspace. She hopped on and zoomed after Krunk. Optimus flew off after her in vehicle mode and Amy turned into a cloud of red mist and tailed Optimus. Optimus switched on his comms to all Autobots.

“All Autobots, take notice,” called Optimus, “A couple of witches and I are in pursuit of a Nebulan wizard of the Red Order! We’re en-route to the city limits! He is in the air and we need him down!”

“This is Prowl, message received!”

“Ratchet, on the way!”

“Ironhide, ready to kick kiester!”

“Bumblebee, reporting!”

“Cliffjumper, I have visual!”

“Jazz, on your six and contacting G.U.N.!”

“All right,” declared Optimus, “let’s roll out!” The chase was on! Jazz and Bumblebee flanked Krunk on the left while Ironhide and Prowl flanked him on the right. Optimus and Cliffjumper took the middle while Amy, Trema, and Ratchet stayed above him. The formation tightened and went lower, much to Krunk’s annoyance. He shot fireballs at them, but to no avail. Suddenly, a pair of high speed, spherical, and organic projectiles hit him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. The projectiles unfurled to reveal Sonic and Shadow. “I have GOT to learn how to do that,” thought Optimus as he and the other Autobots transformed and landed near Krunk. Optimus then spoke in guttural tones to Krunk, who responded back in less than flattering phrases.

“Well, aren’t you rude!” snarled Prowl.

“What did he say?” asked Sonic.

“He just called Optimus the close relative of a scraplet!” translated Jazz. Krunk then gave a Bronx Cheer.

“Okay, that’s universal,” growled Shadow.

“What are you doing on this planet? You’re supposed to be in prison!” snapped Trema in the Nebulan language.

“Like I’d tell you!” growled Krunk in the same language. He then launched a fireball toward her, which the Specter, Amy, blocked. The impact, unfortunately, knocked the hat, wig, and helmet off. The assembled team, bar Optimus and Trema, gawked at Amy’s reveal.

“I’ll explain later!” assured Amy as she cast a bolt of lightning. Krunk sent it towards Optimus, who directed it up and away from the city. The technique surprised Amy. Prime was a young bot. As such, he shouldn’t know how to redirect lightning yet. She still hadn’t mastered it! Krunk then twirled his wand in his fingers and teleported behind Optimus to spray writing on him. He then knocked Optimus down and ran away with Amy and the Autobots in hot pursuit while Trema helped Optimus up.

“What did Krunk write on me?!” he yelped.

“Nothing I wish to repeat in polite company,” was Trema’s response. Optimus decided not to pursue the matter and decided to pursue Krunk. He went with a flying kick to his back and knocked Krunk down again. Krunk then spun around and grabbed Optimus’ face. He tossed him towards Amy, who threw up a barrier before blacking out from the immediate strain.

“All right, Krunk,” called a voice, “let others have their turn with the metal men.” A red cloud then coalesced to become the infamous Captain Aaron Witwicky. “You creatures of metal and those of the other Magic Orders may bow before your new magic king.”

“And, suppose we don’t play along?” asked Prowl. Aaron smirked and threw a fireball at the Autobots. Amy leapt up and knocked it aside. Since she and Aaron were of the same order, it was easy. To say that Aaron was thrown for a loop would be an understatement.

“What?” he hissed. “What is this?!”

“Captain Witwicky, are you out of your mind?!” snapped Amy. “Drop your wand at once!”

“What treachery is this?!” he snarled. “By whose authority?!”

“I am Amy Rose, the Scarlet Specter,” proclaimed Amy. “And it’s you committing treason by firing on innocent people!”

“These low-lives worship machinery!” argued Witwicky. “This war shall elevate the universe to a new height!”

“You flaming dolt!” insulted Amy. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that that futile war is over in this age?”

“Amy!” warned Trema.

“Over?!” shouted Aaron. “What do you mean?!”

“She means that all Orders are at peace,” explained Trema.

“Lies! All lies from a naïve fledgling!” dismissed Aaron.

“That’s no lie, I can assure you,” replied Optimus.

“It’s…over?!” hissed Aaron. “A glorious war…without technology…that I started…,” a dangerous red light started gathering around him, “…IS OVER?!” The light came with something solid as it expanded and knocked everyone off their feet.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 3: Orion's Journey)

TMC 3-4

At G.U.N, in a room specially designed for the Autobots, Shadow tapped his foot repeatedly. Irritation crossed his features. “Losing your temper?’ chuckled a familiar, sultry voice.

“This whole thing is absurd!” snarled Shadow.

“What’s absurd?” asked Rouge as she flew down from an upper gantry.

“This!” snapped Shadow. “The Transformers! Our treaty! A warship above our heads!”

“It’s an Autobot ship,” assured Rouge. “They’re the good guys, remember?”

“Yeah, good guys led by a kid!” argued Shadow.

“They have given us results,” countered Rouge.

“Rouge, Optimus is a child, plain and simple,” hissed Shadow.

“A child that’s a powerful ally,” remarked Rouge.

“If you two are finished,” said a voice. Shadow and Rouge turned to see Jazz standing in the doorway. They arched an eye ridge.

“Where’s Optimus?” grunted Shadow.

“I didn’t get much of a clear picture,” replied Jazz, “but he mentioned something about Sonic, a 24 chili dog lunch, his vehicle mode’s cockpit, and a full detailing.”

“Apparently, the faker’s never heard of a napkin,” sighed Shadow.

“So, what’s up?” asked Jazz. “I assume there’s a reason for a meeting.”

“We’ve found another Chaos Emerald,” replied Rouge.

“Another one?!” cheered Jazz. “All right!”

“However,” interjected Shadow, “it’s being misused.”

“Not so all right, then,” winced Jazz. “Have we got I.D. on the misuser?”

“Yes, but not anything current,” reported Shadow. He then pulled up the files on the mystery emerald abuser. It was a 50 something year old man, pretty muscular, military haircut, square-cut beard, and dressed in red. “He’s called Captain Aaron Witwicky of the United States Air Force. Before the planet’s previous countries collapsed, Captain Witwicky had experienced PTSD after a war between the U.S. and China had leveled both countries and brought them to a standstill in 2786. The reason was because his wife and children were killed by U.S. soldiers firing on anyone in a panic after the battle of Hong Kong was going south. An uneasy peace was signed, but Captain Witwicky refused to accept it. He wasn’t the biggest fan of technology and sought out to learn magic.”

“He did realize that all civilizations on this planet were built on technology, right?” asked Jazz.

“He said that it was a mistake,” clarified Rouge. “He sought out help from a witch and found that there were four main divisions of magically inclined people on this planet.”

“Just like Cybertron,” muttered Jazz. “Is that a universal constant?”

“Anyway,” grunted Shadow, annoyed that they drifted off topic, “he felt that the only way to get to his wife and children was to start a war without technology. So he stirred the pot a bit with the other orders and soon sparked a war. It became the War of Four Orders.”

“That war wasn’t confined to this planet,” revealed Jazz. “Optimus is a fledgling wizard of the Red Order and a history nut. From what he’s researched, the war lasted for a thousand of your years across the universe. After it died, most magically-inclined people went into hiding, even from planets whose cultures were heavily reliant on magic.” An oddity then crossed Jazz’s mind. “Wait, shouldn’t he be dead? He looks to be in his 50’s. If he’s from the later part of the 28th century, then he should be in a grave by now.”

“Some sort of age lock spell, we believe,” mused Shadow. “And a long life spell. That, or a good means of cellular and mental stasis.”

“Any idea what color Chaos Emerald he’s using?” asked Jazz. “There are only four Chaos Emeralds accounted for. You guys have green, we have red, Sonic and his team have Cyan, and Shockwave has purple.”

“That does leave blue, yellow, and white unaccounted for,” answered Rouge, “but we have no idea what the color is. We only know it’s a Chaos Emerald because of the energy frequency all emeralds emit.”

“I guess we’ll find out when we meet him,” mused Jazz. “Any patterns to his attacks?”

“Not attacks, per se,” corrected Rouge, “but more along the lines of vandalism. He and his men teleport in with Chaos Control, draw some graffiti, and then move on to the next location.”

“So, guerrilla vandalism, then,” guessed a voice. Everyone jumped and whirled to see the Scarlet Specter leaning against the wall.

“How long were you…?” stammered Jazz.

“The entire briefing,” replied the Specter. “Many a witch and wizard has heard of Captain Witwicky. Practically no one wants to meet him because he’s dragged magically inclined people through the mud with that war of his.”

“So that’s why we don’t hear about magic people,” grunted Shadow. “This guy put you guys in a bad light for a long time.”

“And the work to clear our name is slow,” continued the Specter. “There’s still a negative connotation with magic.”

“Hold up,” interjected Shadow. He then turned to the main monitor which was displaying more vandalism by Witwicky’s men. The interesting thing was that it now had a Transformer sized, green man there.

“A Nebulan!” gasped Jazz.

“A what now?” asked Shadow.

“A Nebulan,” replied Jazz, “from the planet, Nebulos. A warrior race. This kind of petty vandalism should be beneath them.”

“And our people haven’t spoken with them since the war ended,” called a voice.

“Oddly enough,” remarked the Specter, “that’s not the first Nebulan I’ve met.”

“You know of another Nebulan?” asked the voice.

“Yes,” answered the Specter. “One of my teachers is a Nebulan, a witch of the green order.”

“Nature, huh?” mused the voice. “I gotta meet her.”

“She’s a nice lady…,” the Specter’s voice trailed off. “Wait, who’s saying that?”

“It’s coming from behind us,” replied Jazz. They all glanced around the room. Then they heard laughter. They turned to the source of the laughter to see a certain Prime shimmer into view. He was squatting and pointing at the group.

“The looks on your faces are priceless!” he cackled. “Although, I can only assume Miss Specter’s face is similar to yours.”

“How long…?” gasped Rouge.

“When Shadow was griping about me earlier,” explained Optimus as he stood up. “My detailing was done quickly. Turns out, while his eating habits are gross, Sonic leaves a smaller mess then I thought. Jazz is right, though, he never uses a napkin.” He then turned to the files on Witwicky. “I’d say it’s Mora Mortem, suspending any and all decay in the body as you sleep. To sleep that long he most likely used Multo Sopor, putting the caster in a sleep that he had originally specified when casting it.”

“How do you…?” quizzed Rouge.

“Observation is a standard fare for someone that’s magically inclined,” explained the Specter. “There is something Optimus missed.”

“What’s that?” inquired Optimus.

“Custodientes Imperium,” answered the Specter. Optimus then smacked his head.

“Oh, yeah,” he realized, “he’d lose a lot of magic energy when sleeping that long, on top of casting those spells. He must have used Custodientes Imperium to keep his energy reserves at acceptable levels.”

“I will tell the other witches and wizards of this,” declared the Specter. “We don’t need another war setting us back. He’s most likely under the impression that the war still continues.”

“Good thinking,” praised Optimus. The Scarlet Specter curtsied, then left via red smoke. Optimus then turned to Jazz. “Jazz, get Prowl to patrol the city with the rest of the police. We need them to keep all citizens safe when we engage Captain Witwicky. Get Sonic in on this as well. This may need Teams Sonic and Dark.”

“With respect,” rumbled Shadow, “what little I have for the blue annoyance, Team Dark can handle one man.”

“I can’t run the risk when magic is involved,” insisted Optimus.

“What risk?” hissed Shadow. “At worst, you guys will shout mumbo jumbo and shoot sparks at each other.” Optimus hmphed and walked out like Amy would if she’s annoyed.

“Insulting magic, are we?” asked Jazz. “Dude, I’ve seen how powerful magic duels are. On my first mission as a Guardian Cadet, I saw two Decepticons locked in a magic duel. I don’t know what caused it, but they nearly leveled the Decepticon Capital City of Kaon. All I heard was if they should join a bot named ‘Megatron’ or not.”

“In any case, G.U.N. will be on standby when things go south,” replied Shadow.

“IF things go south,” remarked Jazz.

“Trust me, they will,” insisted Shadow.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 3: Orion's Journey)

TMC 3-3

October has come once again, my friends. You can feel the chill in your bones. The horrors of humanity stalk the earth in search of what they themselves can never claim. Hold tight to your sanity as the monsters reveal themselves, be they Godzilla-sized or from under that cozy, warm bed of yours. Watch your back on the streets as they prowl for something very, very sweet! …That, and make sure you can actually see said monsters when they’re running around, ringing doorbells to get some candy from random strangers at the end of the month. Halloween is coming, my friends, and in the future, it’s a very fun day! In our planet’s future, during the Mobian era, the Autobots and their organic compatriots were getting their Halloween on to make up for last year. This time, they were dressing up. Amy was dressed as a bloody bride and had convinced Sonic to be her bloody groom. Rouge was in a slinky red dress, had put red feathers around her wings, wore a white feather boa, and had a pair of devil horns and a fluffy, red halo, making her a devil and angel hybrid. Shadow had a suit of black knight’s armor on and a spiky black crown with red jewels at the tip, making him an evil king. E123-Omega dressed as a rather bulky Metal Sonic. Cream was a cute little witch. Jazz had managed to get some Michael Jackson clothes in his size. Ratchet took the whole Mad Scientist thing and made himself into a patchwork Mad Scientist. Ironhide was a demonic cowboy. Bumblebee dressed as the Joker and Cliffjumper was the Riddler. Optimus had sharpened his dental plates, got a black and red paintjob, and a black cape for a bot his size. They were all ready for some October fun at G.U.N. Just then, someone knocked on the door. “I’ll get it,” called Amy. She opened the door and let Knuckles and Tails in. Tails had dressed up as a well-dressed ghoul and Knuckles was a mummy.

“Hi, everybody!” greeted Tails.

“Ghastly greetings, my friends!” cheered Optimus as he swished his cape.

“And to you, Prime! Ready to roll out?” asked Knuckles. He then looked around the room. “Hey, where’s Prowl? I thought we were all meeting before we headed to G.U.N.’s party.”

“He sure is taking his sweet time!” hissed Bumblebee.

“Excuse me for a klik,” bid Optimus.

“Mind if I tag along?” asked Amy. “I haven’t seen his costume yet.”

“Sure,” replied Optimus They headed to Prowl’s quarters and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” answered Prowl’s voice. The door opened to reveal Prowl at a mirror, dressed in the standard Deadpool outfit, and fiddling with the accessories.

“Prowl!” yelped Amy. “We’ve got to go any second now!”

“I’m having problems!” replied Prowl.

“Okay, either you’re getting into character,” chuckled Optimus, “or you really are procrastinating.”

“A policebot does NOT procrastinate!” protested Prowl. “This is a tactical delay.”

“All you have to do,” reminded Optimus, “is make some small talk for about an hour. I’m the one who has to make a speech commemorating our 1-year anniversary on this planet!”

“I don’t enjoy social events!” admitted Prowl.

“It’s standard fare for an Autobot,” replied Optimus and he made the adjustments to Prowl’s accessories. “There.” Prowl stopped fussing as he realized he was beaten.

“I don’t see the point in these ridiculous outfits,” he muttered.

“It’s all in good fun,” answered Amy.

“Optimus’ cape makes him look like he’s wearing a dress,” hissed Prowl. He ignored Amy’s icy gaze but didn’t escape a rebuke from Optimus.

“That was an incredibly sexist and outmoded comment!” he rebuked. “I’m surprised at you!” He turned to the door, but before he left, he said, “Besides, you’re just jealous that I can pull off a dress.” Amy grinned as Prowl turned to glare at Optimus.

“Need any cooling packs for that burn?” she snarked. Prowl rolled his optics and put the mask on, following Optimus and Amy out.

“Deadpool?” asked Bumblebee when he saw Prowl. “Straight-laced Prowl…picked the craziest guy…in all fictional history.”

“It’s Halloween,” replied Optimus. “He can dress how he wants, even as a Disney Princess.”

“You’re not gonna let my comment about your cape go, are you?” sighed Prowl.

“What did he say about the cape?” asked Shadow.

“He’s already got an earful,” answered Optimus. “Besides, that conversation took place in Prowl’s quarters. As such, we’re gonna drop it. Teletraan, the Ground Bridge to G.U.N. HQ, if you please.”

“Yes, Master!” slurred Teletraan, his avatar in full Igor gear. He then pulled a huge switch on the screen to open the Ground Bridge.

“Going as Igor, I see,” chuckled Tails.

“It’s pronounced ‘Eye-gor’,” corrected Teletraan.

“I…thought everyone calls that guy…Igor,” stumbled Tails.

“Well, they were wrong then, weren’t they?” asked Teletraan. “See you guys there.”

“How?” quizzed Sonic.

“We set up a link for Teletraan 1 to access G.U.N.’s main computer network,” rasped Shadow.

“Huh,” muttered Sonic. “Kind of creepy, if you ask me.”

“Let’s just roll out before things get weird,” suggested Ironhide.

“Agreed,” replied Optimus. They went through the Ground Bridge and arrived at the main building. “Happy Halloween!” greeted Optimus. The guests’ reactions were…puzzling to say the least.

“Prime?” muttered a red female cobra in Egyptian Pharaoh clothes. “Didn’t you already arrive a few minutes ago?”

“What?” quizzed the now confused Autobot leader.

“You mean just now, right?” asked Sonic.

“No,” answered the cobra, “I meant what I said. You went to Storage Barn 19.”

“The place with the explosives?” inquired Optimus. “What would I be doing there?”

“You tell us,” replied Commander Tower as he was made up like a zombie.

“Sir,” called a male kangaroo, dressed as the Demoman from Team Fortress 2, “movement’s been detected on a course with the Command Center. It bears Optimus’ Spark signature.”

“But I’m right here!” yelped Optimus.

“What’s going on here?!” called Jazz.

“I’m gonna meet this guy,” declared Optimus, “and give him a little scare.” He then brought his cape up to his face. “Wait here, my children of the night.” He then walked outside, laughing.

“I think watching him would be a very good idea,” suggested Tails.

“Corporal Lansworth,” called Tower to the cobra, “put him on the main screen.”

“Yes, Sir!” obliged Lansworth as she brought up the feed. Optimus, in the meantime, had managed to run into his doppelganger.

“Velcome, my child!” he said, in a horribly exaggerated German accent. “Are you, perhaps, looking for a place to stay? I can assure you zat a military base is not my first choice, especially vun zat has many spooks and…!”

“Will you just shut up, Floptimus Prime?!” snapped the other Optimus. “By Anarchy, even back in my universe, you love the sound of your own voice!”

“Erm…okay…confused,” mumbled Optimus. “Aren’t you my double?”

“Hardly,” dismiss the other Optimus.

“Who else could you be?” asked Optimus.

“Why, you don’t know?” chuckled the evil Optimus. “It’s me, Miles Prower!” Optimus’ optics went wide.

“Tails?!” he yelped. “But he’s…!” That was all he got out before “Miles Prower” decked him and rendered him unconscious.


“Oooogh!” groaned Optimus. He then noticed he was in Storage Barn 19, bound to the ceiling by his feet. “All right, who’s trying to do the Wampa scene from Empire Strikes Back? We all know how this is going to end.”

“Oh, goody,” sneered a voice, “you’re online. That means I have to listen to you talk.”

“Oh, hi evil me!” called Optimus. Then, for the third time that night, confusion crossed his face. “I’m probably still dizzy from the punch, but I think you said you were Tails.”

“Miles Prower, yes,” replied Evil Optimus. He then looked at a mirrored sheet of metal. “Hm, this color scheme doesn’t suit me at all.” He then snapped his fingers and purple slowly oozed over the red chassis, black flowed over the blue helmet, the optics faded from blue to red, and the red Autobot symbol on his shoulder turned purple as well. “Much better,” he said.

“Gotta say, Tails,” remarked Optimus, “looks like you put on a few pounds…and became more…metaly…is that even a word?”

“Miles…Prower!” hissed Evil Optimus. “And if it’s proof you want, it’s proof you shall have!” Evil Optimus turned to face Optimus completely. A hissing sound escaped Evil Optimus’ torso, like air escaping pipes. That’s when the vehicle mode canopy lifted up and chest panels opened outwards like doors to reveal the inner workings. What Optimus saw disturbed him for the rest of his natural life. Instead of a Spark chamber with the Matrix of Leadership glowing whitish blue behind it, a young fox kit was grafted into the torso, showing only the head and shoulders, with the Matrix’s crystal glowing an ominous purple. The fox looked a lot like Tails, but it had pale yellow fur, icy blue eyes, burning with ambition, and a greyish black, greaser hairstyle. The robot face went neutral and the optics faded to black as the fox gave an evil grin. To say that Optimus was disgusted would be an understatement.

“Primus!” he gulped as he held back his Energon. “It looks like you skinned me and made a suit out of me! What possessed you to do that?! Where are you from that that’s okay?!”

“Glad you asked,” replied the Tails lookalike. “I’ve always wanted to recount this thrilling tale. To answer your last question first, I come from a parallel world. You might call it ‘opposite land’. In my home universe, my Sonic, though he called himself Scourge, had effectively conquered my Mobius, ‘Moebius’, as it’s called. That reign was brief as Scourge was brought to a multiversal jail by Sonic. Through my puppet, Alicia Acorn, I had taken over in Scourge’s stead. Somehow, Scourge broke out and returned home to try and wrest power from my grasp. It was then that my universe’s Jazz had landed on Moebius. Unlike you, my universe’s Cybertron was in a 4-million-year peace between the planet’s two major factions, the ambitious Autonomous Robotic organisms, and the intellectually minded Deceptive Constructs. The Autobots were simply trying to expand Cybertronian reach, but the Decepticons wanted no part of it. They believe that the ends must only be justified by diplomatic means. Weaklings, all of them! They turn their heads from the truth! Power is all that matters! The end results always justify the means of achieving said results! If there are idiots to stand in your way, brush them aside like meddlesome fleas!

“So, in your universe,” simplified Optimus, “the Decepticons are liars because they seek peace? How is peace a lie?”

“Because those that seek peace are simply burying their head in the sand so they can’t see the truth!” snarled Miles. “Conquest and Power are what shape civilizations!”

“I must disagree,” remarked Optimus.

“Bah!” dismissed Miles. “At least, before his Ember was snuffed out, my universe’s Optimus had ambitions that reached to the ends of my universe! Anyway, I digress. The peace between the Autobots and Decepticons was chafing to Optimus, so he sent Jazz to scout out a potential planet he could convert into his stronghold. Once Jazz caught sight of us, he said that the planet will be easy pickings. That’s when Optimus gathered more troops. Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Cliffjumper, they all accompanied Optimus, thus their campaign began. My ‘friends’ and I were the last line of defense. It was a tough battle, but, bravely, I faced the Autobots.” Liar, he was running scared. “I lured them deep into our fortress,” another lie, he didn’t know where he was going in his panic, “into a secret chamber with something I had hoped would be there,” half-truth, he hoped he would find that something, but he didn’t know it would be there, he just tripped over the something which proved to be, “a weapon capable of piercing Cybertronian steel. In fact, it pierced this body that I now control. The Autobots couldn’t believe that such a weapon exists and so, they fled. In the chaos that followed, Scourge had written me off as dead. His error, my gain. With the ruins of our last fortress all to myself, I had dissected this body and discovered genetic code woven into the metal. I then came up with a theory. If an organic had been grafted into the Transformer, it would gain the power of said Transformer. I set to work grafting myself into the slain Optimus and gained not only control of his body, but it also gave me some of his memories and his connection to the Grid of Domination, the opposite of your Matrix of Leadership.

“If that’s true, you must have gained our weaknesses as well,” guessed Optimus.

“Yes, like all other Transformers,” sighed Miles, “I short out after continued exposure to excessive amounts of Energon radiation. In any case, once I had completed all final checks, I visited the Autobots, showed them who was boss, and led an assault on my former comrades. None survived, even the mighty Scourge the Hedgehog became a bloody grease spot under my heel. The Autobots were about to rejoice that the planet would be theirs, until I set them straight. They wanted to conquer the universe in the long run, an ambitious goal, but then I revealed to them that one universe is too small in the grand scheme of things. I told them of my previous exploits in this universe and said to them ‘Why rule just one universe when the multiverse is our playground?’ Some were slow in the head, but soon they caught on. And with that proclamation, I made myself the very nemesis of the multiverse!

“So, what should I call you?” asked Optimus. “Nemesis Prime?” The chest panels and vehicle mode canopy slid back into place as Miles snarled. The lights in the optics turned back on and the newly christened Nemesis Prime started roaring.

“BE QUIET, YOU INSUBORDINATE PIECE OF MALFUNCTIONING GARBAGE!” he shouted. “EVERY TIME YOU OPEN YOUR MAW, IT SOUNDS LIKE A CAT IS DYING! HOW ANYONE CAN BEAR TO FOLLOW YOUR SHRIEKING, MEWLING NONSENSE IS BEYOND EVEN MY SUPERIOR COMPREHENSION!”

“No, please, go on, tell me how you really feel,” joked Optimus. Nemesis then grabbed him by the throat and started squeezing.

“What I feel,” he growled, “is nothing but rage every time I look at you! I want to cut that chest of yours open, just to hear you scream as I dissect you to see how similar you are to this frame!”

“Why don’t…you just…do it?!” choked Optimus.

“Oh, I shall,” replied Nemesis. He then released Optimus’ neck. “Not yet, though. We still have some unfinished business.” Optimus stared at Nemesis for a while.

“Go shove an electromagnet up your exhaust port,” he hissed.

“I never said that you had to cooperate,” chuckled Nemesis. “You see, even with my newfound perspective of life, there is still something I cannot understand, nor combat against, magic. I’ve learned how to access the axe, but I can’t find the access port to the part of my subspace pocket that holds the gun. Which access port is it?”

“Like I said,” remarked Optimus, “electromagnet. Up the aft. They’re magic pockets; you’ll get it when you need it.” He then grinned. “I loved that game when I was 42 in human years!”

“Then it looks like I have to do this the old fashioned way,” sighed Nemesis as he opened a panel on the back of his wrist. He then took a cord out and plugged it into Optimus’ forehead. A brief spasm of pain jolted through Optimus. “I’ve manually entered your memory core,” explained Nemesis. “I’ve already seen the file I needed and now I need to compare it with this frame’s memories. They fragmented when he went offline. Accessing subspace port 1.” He put his hand into the subspace pocket. “Negative results. Accessing subspace port 2. Negative results. Accessing subspace port 3.” Optimus felt he was going to be there for a while, so he called up his internal video library.


“Accessing subspace port 107. Negative results,” hissed Nemesis. He then whirled to Optimus. “Will you turn that infernal thing down?! I can’t even understand what they’re saying!”

“Get Rosetta Stone,” remarked Optimus as he mentally paused the video he was watching. “You’ll learn Japanese in a flash.” He was watching Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger, which was adapted to be Power Rangers: Dino Charge and Power Rangers: Dino Super Charge. He was on the episode where the ninth member of the Kyoryugers had revealed himself. He resumed playing the episode.

“Watch out!” warned the Red Kyoryuger, Daigo Kiryu, to the old man, Doctor Ulshade, up on the roof of a building. “Run away, Doctor!”

“Run?” asked Doctor Ulshade. He then chuckled. “You should say that to the enemy, Daigocchi!” He then flexed his, admittedly, impressive muscles. The rest of the Kyoryugers gawked under their helmets.

“No way!” breathed the Blue Kyoryuger, Nobuharu Udo.

“Let me show you,” called Doctor Ulshade as he gripped his dinosaur themed gun, the Gaburevolver, “my magnificent transformation!” He then took out a purple battery with the number 9 on it and a white image of a Plesiosaur. “Brave in!” he said as he pressed a button on the battery, turning the dinosaur image from white to purple. He then put the battery into the gun and put his left hand on top, shouting “GABURINCHO! PLEZUON!” Then he pressed down on the gun, making the teeth on the side come together. The gun then repeated what the doctor said. He then pointed the gun into the air, near his head, with the chamber facing out. “Kyoryu Change!” he announced as he spun the chamber. Samba music then started playing as he danced for a bit, then he spun on his feet, pointed the gun into the air and shouted “FIRE!” When he pulled the trigger, a holographic, robotic, purple plesiosaur head came out of the gun and flew around the doctor before chomping on him to form his suit and chomping on his head to form the helmet. The rest of the Sentai gawked and oohed and aahed at the change. The new purple Kyoryuger then jumped down from the building and landed on his feet. “The seas of Earth are my seas!” declared the doctor. “The seas of space are also my seas! The Oceanic Brave! KYORYU…,” the backdrop then fell behind him. “Huh? Crap.” He then recovered and finished. “VIOLET!”

“Aha!” cheered Nemesis Prime. Optimus then paused the video again. “Subspace port 123! Positive results!” Nemesis Prime then fished out the gun he was looking for. He disconnected from Optimus. “Now,” he chuckled as he leveled the gun, “I have no further need of you.”

“Just wait a sec,” called Optimus. “Mind if I tell you something?” Nemesis smirked.

“Why not?” he chuckled. “Go ahead.”

“Next time you wanna tie someone up,” suggested Optimus as he pulled out his own gun, “tie up more than their feet.” He then shot at the restraints and he came crashing to the floor. “Ow,” he winced before picking himself up. Nemesis just smirked.

“You wouldn’t dare shoot in here,” he boasted. “It might cause an explosion.”

“You’re right,” replied Optimus. “However,” he then got Nemesis in a bear hug and pointed his gun at the ceiling, “I’ve no qualms taking this outside.” He fired at the ceiling. “Prime jets, ON!” he announced. They launched into the air and Optimus threw Nemesis into the ground. Optimus then shook his rear at Nemesis.

“Will you stop messing around like you’re some masked hero?!” snapped Nemesis.

“Funny you should mention ‘Masked Hero’,” called a voice. Both Primes turned to see Jazz grooving his way up. He had something in his right hand. It was grey, had four slots with a monitor in the middle, red tab switches on the outside of the slots, and a handle on the right side.

“Jazz!” cheered Optimus.

“Oh sweet Anarchy!” hissed Nemesis. “The Jazz of this universe is from ‘da hood’.”

“Wow, stereotyping much?” muttered Jazz. “I just thought the ‘black’ voice sounded cool. In any case,” he held the device up, “it’s time to give the Fourze Driver a try.” He then took out small devices and put them into the four slots. The Driver announced them as they were inserted.

“Chain Array, Beat, Gatling, Shield,” it announced. Jazz then put it on the front of his waist, letting it attach to him, and flicked the little red switches. The monitor showed a humanoid image with a shuttle themed helmet. The Driver started counting. “Three,” it called as Jazz gripped the handle. “Two,” it declared as Jazz got his feet in a ready stance. “One!” it counted as Jazz crossed his left arm in front.

“Henshin!” he announced. He then pulled the handle and then thrust his right hand into the air as his helmet changed from his usual Praxian style to a shuttle themed one with glowing, orange insect eyes. “Uchū KITAAAA!” shouted Jazz under the helmet as he thrust his arms into the air.

“Translation:” replied Optimus, “Space is here! And ‘henshin’ means ‘transform’.”

“THE HELL?!” yelped Nemesis as his view on logic was thrown out the window.

“Jazz is a huge fan of the Kamen Rider franchise,” explained Optimus, “and I’m a fan of Super Sentai. On his 124th Forge Day, that’s about 148.12 in Mobius years, I gave him a little gift; a magically altered toy Fourze Driver. I used a spell to let the representation of the object become the actual object.” Nemesis just glared. “You said you wanted to see magic, well, Jazz is wearing something that’s magically charged.”

“And now,” cheered Jazz, “I’m playing Kamen Rider Fourze. Let’s do this Mech to Mech!” He then flicked the Beat Switch.

“Beat on!” announced the Driver. A red set of speakers appeared around his right leg. Jazz then started dancing and singing to Michael Jackson’s Bad. As his foot hit the ground, the speakers produced sonic waves that were deafening. Nemesis held his hands to his ears.

“What’s the matter? Only like medieval music?” taunted Jazz. “Fine, we’ll go with shield and mace.” Jazz switched Beat off and turned on Chain Array and Shield.

“Chain Array, on! Shield, on!” called the driver. Jazz swung the ball and it struck Nemesis right in the chest. He looked winded. He could feel a sense of smarminess from Jazz.

“You think this is funny?!” he snarled.

“Well…” mused Jazz.

“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?! IT’S NOT FUNNY…unlike your face,” chuckled Nemesis. He then revealed a chassis that was undented. Jazz was confused and started swinging the ball around right into Nemesis’ sides. Nemesis started laughing. He then drew out his own axe and combined the handles to make the staff. “Say goodbye to existence!” shouted Nemesis as he swung the axe into Jazz’s sides. The transformation was cancelled as Jazz’s helmet went back to normal. He started clutching his Energon leaking sides. Optimus called for Ratchet, who arrived on the scene with the other Autobots and G.U.N. Ratchet dealt with Jazz, who was, rightfully, going on about how the black guy always gets shafted in these kinds of situations.

“That was a mistake!” snarled Ironhide. He charged at Nemesis but was promptly stopped with a right hook to his jaw. He was quickly knocked out. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper tried an attack which had Bumblebee in the air and Cliffjumper on the ground, but a stamp of Nemesis’ foot launched Cliffjumper into Bumblebee. Prowl tried the Taser that was built into his hand, but Nemesis sent the current back to him. He then flung Ironhide, Prowl, Bumblebee, and Cliffjumper into Ratchet and Jazz. The impact caused Jazz to go into emergency stasis so he could be spared until his wounds were healed. The only bot that wasn’t unconscious was Optimus.

“Pathetic,” sighed Nemesis. “You spend every waking moment distracting yourself from true power that’s right outside your door by bothering to fight for these ants! You want reality? Here it is! You will die! By my hands! By these very weapons! Death…at the hands of a superior being.”

“Wow,” griped Optimus, “egotistical much? Besides, you haven’t seen me at my peak.”

“And, that concerns me, how?” asked Nemesis.

“Well, you said you killed my double too quickly and Sonic’s double died under your foot,” remarked Optimus. “I would have figured you would want to play with your prey.” Nemesis arched an eyebrow.

“You know, the thing is, I know you’re playing me,” he grinned, “but, you’re right. Let’s see your peak.”

“Trust me, Nemesis Prime, great things are about to happen,” assured Optimus. He then got into a ready stance. He then started humming. Nemesis arched an eyebrow. His annoyance grew. Prowl soon woke up.

“Prowl,” hissed Teletraan in a soft whisper, “can you fix Jazz? Optimus has a plan to throw Nemesis back into his universe. I had some help with Tails to tune the Ground Bridge to reach other universes, but Optimus can’t command Nemesis to drop his weapons without help.”

“So it IS processor over matter,” mused Prowl. “If it’s a Cyber Ninja he needs, I can fill the part.” He sat Japanese style and started humming.

“And now the police bot hums!” snarled Nemesis as he drew his gun. He was about to fire, but his trigger finger wouldn’t respond. Suddenly, his grip was slowly loosening! He tried to regain control, but it was no use! “What’s…happening?!” strained Nemesis Prime. Prowl paused in his humming to explain.

“I’m sure you are familiar with processor over matter,” he answered. “It’s actually easy when you’ve mastered it.”

“You…idiot!” gasped Nemesis as the gun fell. “Now… you won’t…know…true power!”

“Maybe, but you’re a bit of a jackhole,” replied Prowl. “Teletraan, Optimus and I can’t hold him for much longer!”

“Found his universe!” called Teletraan.

“Who’s…Teletraan?!” asked Nemesis. Optimus then stopped humming.

“Are you telling me you don’t have an artificial intelligence?” he quizzed.

“No!” said Nemesis. That’s when a portal opened behind him.

“Pity,” sighed Optimus, “you might have won with an A.I.” He charged at Nemesis, picked him up, and tossed him into the portal. Teletraan quickly closed it. Optimus let himself fall.


The Autobots soon woke up in an empty storage barn with technicians working on them. Prowl was the first one up and soon got everyone awake. Once they were given final checks, Optimus explained to Sonic and his friends who Nemesis was. “Scourge is…dead?” gulped Sonic.

“My evil double too,” mumbled Amy as she hugged Sonic’s arm, the fake bloodstains on her dress getting onto him. Sonic didn’t notice. Tails felt sick.

“I can’t believe he did that,” he gagged. “Miles could have been something more than a new evil person.”

“Let’s not dwell on him too long,” suggested Optimus. “Now that we’ve dealt with him, things should go smoothly for the party.”

“You’re still on about that?!” snarled Shadow.

“I think that keeping the party going would be good for morale,” replied Prowl. Optimus and Amy looked at him quizzically. “In the past, I might have turned my nose up at Halloween, but I see why it’s celebrated. It’s to look at fear right in the face, and have fun, despite it being there.” Optimus grinned. Amy gave a smile. They then gave each other a thumbs-up.

“Okay guys, you’re clear to go,” answered a technician. Optimus led everyone back to the Command Center and took the stage.

“Humans, Mobians, and Autobots,” he began, “I think this whole incident has proved one of many things we have in common; we all can laugh in the face of danger. Evil was about to tear us down and laugh as it did, so what did we do? We laughed at it. We all knew that it’s impossible to surrender to evil if we all can see our goal and see how to achieve it. Evil feeds on giving up, so we just starve it by persevering and continuing to be merry with each other. That’s what this holiday is about, and that’s what N.E.S.T. was built on this past year. Here’s to many more years of working together.” There was applause and cheering at that message. It was short and sweet, and it was awesome. “Now,” continued Optimus, “let’s have some fun! Jazz, music please!”

Thriller, coming up!” called Jazz. As the music of the King of Pop played, the party got underway. Happy Halloween, my friends!


Epilogue: Moebius.

“So I’m about a hairs’ breadth from killing Optimus,” snarled Nemesis to himself as he stomped around the forest of his home, “then that universe’s Jazz shows up and decides, ‘I’m just gonna play Japanese superhero!’ Then Optimus fakes me out with that humming. Apparently, that’s part of a Cyber Ninja’s arsenal! Gotta look into that later! But, at the very top of this long list of stupid questions is HOW DID I LOSE?! I HAD EVERYTHING! OPTIMUS PRIME, I SHALL SEE YOU FALL!”

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 3: Orion's Journey)

TMC 3-2

Amy had been beamed to her house as she had an outing with Sira and Trema, who had recently returned from her home planet of Nebulos. She met them at a café where Trema had shrunk herself down and turned herself into a Mobian rabbit with green fur and dressing in dark clothing, similar to her witch’s outfit. They sat down at a table near the window and chatted about life in general. Amy was about to show Optimus and Fwuffy’s picture when a hedgehog waitress in blue fur, Misty, came up to them. “Hello, ladies,” she said pleasantly, albeit forced, “are you ready to order?”

“Yes, I’d like one of your delicious chocolate muffins and a cup of coffee,” replied Sira. “Milk and sugar, please.”

“I’ll have a cheese danish and lemonade, please,” answered Trema.

“And the usual strawberry scone and green tea for me, please,” finished Amy.

“All right,” said Misty, more pleasantly. “I’ll be back in a minute with your orders.”

“Forgive me for asking,” mused Sira, “but I thought I felt a magic aura around you.”

“I figured you two were witches like Amy here,” answered Misty, feeling a little more comfortable knowing she was around witches like herself.

“You can speak freely about your emotions with us,” assured Trema.

“Honestly, I was afraid that you’d order a Terra-pie,” sighed Misty. “If I had to explain to them one more time…!”

“Who ordered that culinary abomination?!” asked Sira.

“Those hedgehogs over there,” replied Misty as she pointed at a table in the corner. The creatures there looked almost like old Earth hedgehogs in battle-gear.

“Hedgehogs?” muttered Sira in disbelief.

“Those are hedgehogs?” asked Trema.

“I’m gonna guess you two aren’t from around here,” guessed Misty. “I’ll be back with your orders.” She left the table to get their orders to the kitchen. Sira and Trema looked at Amy for an explanation. She looked embarrassed.

“They ARE hedgehogs,” she confirmed. “It’s a long story behind their appearance.”

“Some sort of genetic tampering?” asked Trema.

“A virus?” quizzed Sira.

“The mutation wave the Xorda used was interrupted,” explained Amy. “They call their culture a warrior culture, steeped in tradition.”

“Like the Klingons,” remarked Sira.

“Exactly,” replied Amy as she caught the reference. “They call themselves ‘Warrior-hogs’.” Misty then returned with their orders.

“Enjoy yourselves, my witch-kin,” she bid, in the proper way one witch says to another. She then departed to lead a human woman to a table. As Amy, Sira, and Trema ate, Amy remembered something.

“Trema,” she called, “I almost forgot something.” She then took out her camera and scrolled through the images. “I’ve finally come into contact with an alien animal.” She found the picture of Optimus holding Fwuffy. “The Autobots called it…”

“A Poozit!” said Trema as she gave a low growl at the sight of Fwuffy. Amy put the camera away.

“Would you relax?” hissed Sira. “You’re making a scene.”

“Where did you find that…thing?!” snarled Trema.

“In the cargo hold of the Autobot ship,” answered Amy. “We think that Fwuffy’s being here is proof of Optimus’ girlfriend being here as well. Prowl said he detected your genetic signature and mentioned that Poozits don’t like Nebulans.”

“The feeling’s mutual!” growled Trema. “They are a detestable animal!”

“It was my understanding that most Nebulans like furry animals,” observed Sira, “especially ones that can fit in your hand.”

“Those monsters do nothing but breed and consume!” insisted Trema. “If you feed that thing the slightest morsel, in a matter of hours, you’ll have ten, then a hundred, then a thousand!”

“Would you relax?” asked Amy. “Optimus said it was neutered. Breeding is impossible.”

“Even a sterile Poozit is a mortal enemy of the Nebulan Republic!” urged Trema.

“This?!” quizzed Amy as she showed the picture again. Trema shut her eyes, snarling. “A mortal enemy of the Nebulan Republic?” continued Amy.

“They’re an ecological menace!” replied Trema, once again opening her eyes. “A plague to be wiped out!”

“Wiped out?” yelped Sira. “I’m surprised a witch of the Green Order, the masters of nature spells and animals, would say that.”

“Hundreds of Nebulan warriors were sent to track them down throughout the galaxy,” explained Trema. “An armada obliterated the Poozit home world. By the end of Mobius’ 30th century, it was believed they were eradicated.”

“Another glorious chapter of the History of the Nebulan Republic,” teased Sira. “Tell me, do they still sing songs of the Great Poozit Hunt?” It was then that Sira noticed one of the warrior-hogs get up and walk towards the human that Misty showed a table to. She looked up and Amy looked on in horror.

“Oh no,” she gulped. “That warrior-hog’s gonna start something.”

“Young Rose?” asked Sira.

“Warrior-hogs love to prove themselves, especially against humans,” explained Amy.

“Well, well!” chuckled the warrior-hog. “A human decided to join us!”

“I was unaware your people visited this café,” muttered the human, with a voice that sounded familiar to Amy.

“No…it can’t be!” she whispered.

“I’m sorry to hear that a pale, hairless monkey would not know of my people,” answered the warrior-hog.

“Insulting another sentient life-form because of her species?!” snarled Trema. “I thought you said they were warriors! Where is the honor in his actions?!”

“I said that they called themselves warriors,” corrected Amy. “I didn’t say the rest of society views them as such.”

“Well,” mumbled the human, “a pale, hairless monkey, never been called that before. I suppose that’s your opinion.” That comment earned some impressed looks.

“Indeed,” chuckled the warrior-hog. “And if my opinion is that humans are weaklings that can’t even lift a proper knife like mine, who would argue?”

“And if my opinion of you, specifically,” hissed the woman, “is that you are a fraud and a lying coward, who would argue?” All noise in the café stopped. The tension could be cut with a knife.

“Skin job,” growled the warrior-hog as he slowly drew his knife, “don’t you think you should…rephrase that?”

“I phrased it most carefully, Marcus,” replied the woman. The warrior-hog raised his knife to strike only to find that two kicks at his legs and three punches to the ribs, left shoulder, and solar plexus struck him simultaneously. He was floored and dropped his knife. The woman then planted a foot on his chest and left wrist while her left hand held down his right arm and she held the knife above his eye. The woman was identified as Shockwave’s holo-form. “Do not think for a moment,” threatened Shockwave, “that it has gone unnoticed that you failed your end of the bargain! I am tempted to force you to share my perception of things.”

“STOP!” called Trema. Shockwave looked up. “What bargain did he strike with you?”

“5,000 rings for parts I need for my newest creation,” replied Shockwave. “I paid him. He did not deliver.”

“Then let his shame that someone like you bested him be his prison until he gives you the parts you need,” suggested Trema.

“Elaborate,” demanded Shockwave.

“I hail from a warrior culture,” answered Trema. “Where I come from, if there is a third party involved, the third party has the right to hold a symbol of the offending party’s honor until his debt is repaid to the party that was wronged. Once his debt is paid, I will restore his honor and we never need to discuss it again.” Shockwave mulled it over for a minute.

“Your argument…is logical,” she declared. She got off Marcus and handed Trema the knife.

“That’s my honor knife!” roared Marcus. “Give it back!” He leapt at Trema, but she knocked him down again with a simple backhand.

“What remains of your honor is mine until Shockwave gets the materials you agreed to give to her!” snarled Trema. She put the knife in her bag. “Whoever trained you may claim this once your debt is paid.” Shockwave then took out a stack of rings and put them at her table.

“Apologies for the disturbance,” she bid. She then walked out. As she did, she put her right pointer and middle fingers onto her chin and bowed to Trema. Amy leaned toward Sira.

“Time to leave, I think,” she guessed.

“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Sira. Amy paid for the meal as the three witches departed and gave a slight curtsey to Misty. The manager, a brown rat, arched an eyebrow.

“What was that all about?” he asked Misty.

“Later, sir,” dismissed Misty. “We have customers to take care of.”

“It’s almost closing time anyway,” continued the Head Chef, a tiger.

“Good point,” conceded the manager. He then turned to his customers. “Last orders, please. We apologize for the altercation that took place. Anyone who returns tomorrow will receive a 40% discount off their orders.”

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 3: Orion's Journey)

TMC 3-1

After a few hours of banging the bottle against the Ark’s wall on the bridge and finally shattering it, Optimus turned to the empty bridge. “Okay guys!” he called. “I finally got it cracked and you ain’t here. Scrap.”

“They shuffled on to the bar at Four Forward,” revealed Teletraan.

“Typical,” sighed Optimus as he slumped into the Captain’s chair. “Abso-fragging-lutely typical.”

“Language,” admonished a voice with a familiar Texan drawl. Optimus turned to the source of the voice.

“Master Sergeant Ironhide, did you, of all bots, just zing me for language?” he said with a slight grin.

“Wait ‘til you’re an old mech like me,” replied Ironhide with a chuckle. “Once you’re my age, you can get away with anything.”

“From what I’ve heard,” recalled Optimus, “there was a mech that never swore. My predecessor, I believe.”

“Now THAT’S a lie,” corrected Ironhide. “I heard Sentinel swear once.”

“Is this a war story?” asked Optimus.

“Well, if you’re really too busy as a Prime to listen to an old mech…,” rumbled Ironhide. Optimus offered the Captain’s chair to Ironhide with a grin on his face. He loved Ironhide’s war stories. Ironhide sat down and Optimus sat Japanese style on the floor. “It was at the Battle of Las Vegas in 2009,” began Ironhide. “The mission was to quietly get some Energon out from the outskirts of the city, but the ‘Cons had gotten wind of the plan. So there I was, holding them off with Sentinel and Chromia. We were getting swarmed all over our left flank! The ‘Cons had a few Insecticons with them and leading them was Hardshell!”

“Ew!” squirmed Optimus. “I saw him in the Stockade!”

“Well,” continued Ironhide, “then you know how Insecticons eat during battle. Hardshell and his toadies were guzzling Energon during the fight. When we were about to run out, Sentinel had just about had it up to his optics and said, very loudly, ‘F***KIN’ POOZITS!’ and fired at Hardshell himself.”

“An Earth swear, no less!” chuckled Optimus. He was about to ask for another story when Prowl’s voice came in on the comms.

“Prowl to bridge, you two are needed in the cargo hold,” he called

“The cargo hold?” repeated Optimus. “What’s going on?”

“Believe me, you want to see it,” answered Prowl.

“On our way,” confirmed Optimus. He and Ironhide left the bridge and entered the cargo hold. The other Autobots and on board Mobians were gathered around a spot. Jazz moved aside to let Optimus and Ironhide look at it. What was “it”? It was a fuzzy creature that could fit in a Cybertronian’s hand. It almost looked like a pale brown ball of fur that had tiny feet and big eyes that added to the cuteness of the creature.

“Whoa! Speaking of Poozits!” exclaimed Ironhide.

“How did it get on board?” asked Optimus.

“I managed to find this on it,” answered Jazz as he held up a collar. Optimus examined the name on it. It read “Fwuffy” in the Autobot wartime language. “Now, the question is, what’s your girlfriend’s Poozit doing on our ship?”

“She must have brought it here,” guessed Optimus.

“Your girlfriend? How?” asked Prowl.

“Teletraan 1, do you still have the mystery bot’s Spark signature?” quizzed Optimus.

“Sure do,” replied Teletraan.

“Run a match test with the sample of Elita 1’s Spark signature I gave you,” directed Optimus.

“Performing test,” reported Teletraan. “Processing…processing…test complete. Match confirmed. Elita 1’s our mystery bot.”

“Now a possibility becomes clear,” remarked Optimus, “infiltration.”

“Optimus?” asked Sonic.

“Elita 1’s joined the Autobot Intelligence Network as a Spy-changer,” explained Optimus. “She’s a lady that’s under deep cover. My guess is that she came here after she was informed of the Harbinger’s flight from Cybertron and heard about its crew.”

“What’s her name in the Decepticons?” quizzed Shadow.

“That, I can’t tell you,” sighed Optimus. “The only ones who are gonna be in the know are the Spy-changers.”

“And your staff?” asked Amy.

“Sorry,” replied Optimus. “Only the Spy-changers are supposed to know.”

“In any case,” mused Prowl, “we have to bring the Poozit to a vegetation intensive world.”

“What? No!” protested Optimus. “If you’re worried about breeding, then forget it. Elita had it neutered. On top of that, it had a veggie replicator in its habitat on Cybertron.”

“It’s not the breeding I’m concerned about,” explained Prowl, “it’s a certain genetic signature I’ve found. It matches that of a Nebulan.”

“So we keep it away from Fwuffy,” assured Optimus. “If I recall correctly, Poozits don’t like Nebulans.”

“Can I take a picture of Fwuffy?” asked Amy.

“Go ahead!” replied Optimus with a grin. Amy took out a camera as Optimus knelt down to stroke Fwuffy. The Poozit closed its eyes as it cooed. Amy then took a picture of the cute scene.

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” chuckled Sonic.

“Huh?” asked Optimus.

“Maybe if we meet her,” mused Sonic, “Elita 1 will want to see that picture.”

“Oh, shut up!” protested Optimus, his face turning scarlet.

“Optimus, I really must protest keeping the Poozit with us!” insisted Prowl.

“Who’s Prime?” asked Optimus as he got in a little too close to Prowl. There was a bit of silence. “Thought so,” remarked Optimus as he backed off. “Now then, I’m off to make a habitat for the little guy. You bots do whatever you wish. Teletraan, alert us if there’s a problem.” He then headed to the transporter room. Ratchet followed as well as Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and the Autobots’ organic allies. Jazz, Prowl, and Ironhide stayed on the ship. Prowl was going to leave so he could get familiar with the ship, he stayed on the bridge during the trip from Cybertron, when he noticed that Jazz and Ironhide looked at the door Optimus left through.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“He’s my best friend,” replied Jazz, “and I love him like a bro, but the instant this attitude of his bites him in the aft, I’m gonna point and laugh at him.”

“Get in line,” directed Ironhide. “Family friends have dibs on it.”

“Prowl, did Prime say anything to you after the fight over the Tox-En?” asked Jazz.

“Nothing that would sweep my experience as a Praxian Internment Camp survivor under the rug,” assured Prowl, “but I did see evidence of jackholery. The naming ceremony for the ship, and just a few nano cycles ago are good examples.”

“Recommendations?” quizzed Ironhide.

“Optimus is still a young bot,” remarked Prowl, “but he is old enough to know better. He may need a refresher in watching what he says.”

“Are you suggesting…?” asked Jazz.

“We have to monitor Optimus Prime,” suggested Prowl.

“Spy on him?!” yelped Ironhide.

“Absolutely out of the question!” declared Jazz. “The Grand Auto-Codex, our code of law…!”

“Has already been violated,” interrupted Prowl. “You landing here has caused some damage, sir. It’s given Optimus a huge ego, on top of him being the youngest bot to inherit the Matrix. All we can do now is minimize that ego”

“By snooping in on him? By acting like Decepticons?” asked Jazz.

“By letting him know that his actions don’t go unnoticed. Letting him know that this has to stop or we take action against him,” explained Prowl.

“2nd Lieutenant Prowl,” hissed Jazz, “I cannot, I WILL not, snoop on my best friend and my Prime on account of him being a bit of a jackhole. To snoop on a bot with just that, and no other probable cause, violates the very essence of the Grand Auto-Codex!”

“Like it or not,” remarked Prowl, “he is a dangerous bot. If this attitude of his gets out of hand, he may say the wrong thing.”

“And you think that wrong thing will be directed to the Decepticons?” asked Ironhide.

“Exactly,” confirmed Prowl. “And that will lead to diplomatic repercussions, in-fighting, attacks on both sides, and then the Pax Cybertronia is null and void and Cybertron is at war once again.” That sentence hung in the air like a vast, predatory bird.

“Horrifying,” sighed Jazz. “Prowl, you once lived under constant watch and in constant fear that you would displease Shockwave if you tried to do anything aside from following orders. That constant watching over you has made you paranoid to a very small degree. Now, you want to introduce that paranoia to our leader? No! We’re going to find another method to tell Optimus to be mindful of his actions.” He motioned for Ironhide and Prowl to follow him to the transporter room.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 2: Shockwave’s Rise)

TMC 2-10

Blackness was all Optimus could see at that point in time. He shook his head to clear the processor. “Oogh, my achin’ processor!” he moaned. It was still black around him. “What the scrap? The Matrix?”

“That’s correct,” confirmed a motherly voice. Optimus turned to see a short, stocky femme stroll towards him. Her armor made her look like a blacksmith, she had a short handled hammer attached to her waist, and she had a three pronged crown on her helm. Optimus’ optics went wide.

“By the Allspark!” he breathed. “You’re Solus Prime!”

“What gave me away?” she said in a teasing tone.

“My Lady,” greeted Optimus, “it’s an honor to meet one of the 13. Maybe you can help.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked. “You defeated Shockwave, did you not?”

“Yes,” confirmed Optimus, “but I seem to find it hard to believe that the Cyber Key was just waiting for me.”

“Cyber Key?” muttered Solus. “You found a Cyber Key?”

“Yes,” replied Optimus.

“But, that’s impossible,” mused Solus. “I ordered all Cyber Keys to stay away from the planet.”

“I…don’t think I understand,” stammered Optimus.

“When I forged the Omega Keys,” explained Solus, “they started producing Cyber Keys, like the ones you and Shockwave used. Alpha Trion saw a planet in the future and…”

“Wait, hold up, when was this?” asked Optimus.

“A few solar cycles after we beat the Chaos Bringer,” replied Solus.

“Alpha Trion is that old?!” yelped Optimus. “Sheesh! Ironhide would be floored! I knew he had a special connection with the Matrix, but I…wait…no!”

“Yes, Alpha Trion is one of us 13,” answered Solus. “He didn’t tell you this?”

“No!” replied Optimus. “Why…? Never mind, I’ll ask him later. Anyways, his Quill saw something about Mobius?”

“Yes,” confirmed Solus, “he saw a hotbed of activity there and so, once the Cyber Keys were finished, I did something to their codes so they could avoid Mobius at all times. Something must have interfered and sent one there.”

“Maybe more,” muttered Optimus. “Can a Prime check to see if there are other Cyber Keys?”

“Not one of your caliber, no,” answered Solus. “But one of my caliber, most definitely.” She held her hammer in front of her and gathered light around her. Her optics started glowing a brilliant white as her sight pierced the cosmic veil of the universe to reveal what she sought. A frown of confusion crossed her features. “That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered as her optics went back to their normal soft, purple color. “Mobius is littered with Cyber Keys.” Optimus arched an eyebrow and tapped his chin.

“There’s something here in this whole situation,” he mused, “something staring at us in the face, but we don’t have enough info to know what it is.”

“There’s a cosmic mystery going on,” agreed Solus, “and bringing the Cyber Keys on Mobius to my attention may be a step in solving it.”

“But what caused them to go there? That’s the question,” quizzed Optimus. “I originally wanted to ask how I managed to use one and how they work, but it evolved into something more.”

“Well, I can answer your original questions, at least,” replied Solus. “The Cyber Keys usually wait until they see a worthy bot to have the power they possess. In the code, they’re told to examine the Sparks of all Transformers in the area and see which one has the qualities needed to use it. Evidently, it sensed that you had a burning sense of justice and will use it to win. You do what you believe is right, even when the rules say that’s not right.”

“Burning sense of…” stumbled Optimus. Then he remembered what Shockwave said. “Many an Autobot have disregarded the warnings of their internal computers. All have fallen by my hand as they believe the universe has given them ‘Burning Justice’ to get through the fight,” were her words. “I thought she was kidding!” protested Optimus.

“She may have thought it to be one of her rare jokes,” chuckled Solus.

“She has a sense of humor?” asked Optimus, not believing it for a second.

“Despite that façade of logic being supreme,” replied Solus, “she has an emotional side to her.”

“Of…course,” mumbled Optimus. He then felt a twinge.

“Er, you might want to prepare for the processor-ache,” warned Solus.

“What processor…?” asked Optimus before he woke up in reality. “ACHE!” he screamed once he felt it.

“Optimus!” cried Ratchet.

“PRIMUS, THAT HURTS!” shouted Optimus. Ratchet gave him a dose of painkillers, which dulled it slightly. “Ow!” winced Optimus.

“Are you all right, Sir?” asked a voice. Optimus turned his head to see that it was Prowl that asked that question.

“I just went through the Pit and back from that fight with Shockwave!” snapped Optimus. “What do you think?!”

“Okay, if all Autobots would clear the med-bay!” ordered Ratchet. “I have a patient to tend to!” All visitors left the med-bay so Ratchet could work without interruptions. It took some time, but Ratchet cleared Optimus for duty. Optimus made a beeline to his office. On his way, he bumped into Prowl.

“Prowl, may I speak with you in my office?” he asked.

“Er, of course, Sir,” gulped Prowl. The tactician followed his young superior to his modest sized office. He noticed that Optimus didn’t sit at his desk.

“Prowl, I’m not entirely thrilled with your performance in the fight with Shockwave,” remarked Optimus.

“May I ask how, Sir?” asked Prowl.

“I gave you an order to stay in formation when she and Metal Sonic gave chase,” recalled Optimus.

“Sir, with all due respect, Shockwave was a greater threat than the Sonic robot,” countered Prowl.

“You don’t know Metal Sonic like us,” argued Optimus. “You exposed Ironhide’s right flank, thus giving Metal Sonic more chance to attack him and get the Tox-En. When I give an order, I need it to be obeyed.”

“Is it not my duty to suggest…alternatives?” asked Prowl.

“On a private comms channel during battle, yes,” answered Optimus. “What you did wasn’t a suggestion, it was flat out disobedience. When I have made a decision, I expect you to follow through with it. I don’t recall the history trax saying you’ve ever pulled this stunt with Sentinel Prime. Were they missing that fact?”

“No, Sir,” admitted Prowl.

“If you feel that you can’t follow through with your duties,” continued Optimus, “I can arrange for your wife to take your place while you deal with domestic matters. I wouldn’t put in your file as a reprimand, simply a transfer.”

“I would prefer to remain here to tie up loose ends,” countered Prowl.

“Then I would suggest you conform to the guidelines laid out, understood?” quizzed Optimus.

“Yes, Sir,” confirmed Prowl.

“All right. I’ve said my peace. Dismissed,” directed Optimus. Prowl saluted and left the office in military fashion. After his tactician left, Optimus sat at his desk a few seconds later. He didn’t look forward to reading Prowl the Riot Act, as calmly as he managed, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. He tried to get his mind off of the incident when his desk screen chimed. Optimus was snapped out of his reverie and pressed a button to receive the call. “Yes?” he asked.

“The Naming Ceremony for the ship is ready,” reported Jazz. “Team Dark is representing G.U.N. and Teams Sonic and Rose are requesting to join.” Optimus’ signature grin came back.

“They are more than welcome!” he cheered. “Let’s head for the ship!” Teletraan 1 activated the Ground Bridge and adjusted to compensate for putting the other end to a structure in orbit. Everyone had ended up on the bridge of the ship. Optimus had found a bottle of high grade Energon. “My friends,” began Optimus, “today, we stand with a new friend. This ship is no mere collection of bulkheads, circuits, windows, and consoles. This ship is our home away from home…away from home, in reference to the Autobots. With all that said, I dub this ship the Ark!

“Wait!” called Rouge. “I thought we settled on the Watchful!” The bottle stopped about a foot from the wall.

“I settled on the Ark because it sounded more majestic,” explained Optimus, “like the name for a fleet’s flagship. The situation with the Harbinger will need a ship and I’m not against owning a fleet someday.”

“Yeah, but the reason people voted for Watchful,” recalled Ratchet, “was because they didn’t want to call it a name like the space colony.”

“Yes,” snapped Optimus, “but, it’s not their ship now, is it?!”

“Prime,” warned Ironhide.

“Okay, fine!” sighed Optimus. “All Vanguard-class ships have four scout ships. We’ll call one of them the Watchful! Okay?”

“No objections,” answered Prowl quickly. He didn’t want to annoy his superior again.

“Thank you,” remarked Optimus. “Now then, I dub thee the Ark!” He banged the high grade bottle on the wall, but it failed to even give a tiny crack. Optimus looked at the bottle and banged it again. Still nothing. Annoyance set in and Optimus kept banging the bottle against the wall.

“This is gonna take a while,” predicted Jazz.

“You want to get some high grade?” asked Prowl to the group. “I know where the bar is and there is a replicator that can give Mobian drinks.”

“Hey, lead the way!” directed Rouge. All members of the ceremony headed to the bar at four-forward, all except Optimus, who kept his attention on breaking the bottle against the wall.

“BREAK, SLAG YOU!” he shouted.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 2: Shockwave’s Rise)

TMC 2-9

Back on Mobius, Alexis Silverwing was at Autobot HQ. She was pinching the bridge of her nose after Optimus had introduced her to Prowl. “Okay,” she sighed, “you wanna walk me through the thought process here?”

“It wasn’t my decision,” replied Optimus. “The Council decided to send him here. At least we can prepare for a Decepticon threat.”

“It’s that coming threat that concerns me!” snapped Alexis. “Prime, when N.E.S.T. was formed, you assured me that we could handle any threat. Old enemies of the Autobots coming from Cybertronian prison is a little out of our league!”

“Don’t worry,” assured Optimus, “we got this.”

“Forgive me if I’m skeptic,” remarked Alexis.

“You saying that we can’t handle a few measly Cons?” asked Ironhide. He then tore a hanging piece of machinery off the ceiling. “Autobots know when to use force and how much force to use.” He crushed the machine, which prompted Ratchet to say “Ironhide, I needed that!”

“Enough,” called Optimus. “Ma’am, we will end this threat once it arrives.”

“Says you,” hissed Alexis. “I have to report back to Commander Tower. Your ship leaves cause for concern.”

“Understandable,” replied Optimus. Alexis then left for her car and drove off.

“In all probability,” muttered Prowl, “it could have gone worse.”

“Could have gone worse?!” protested Bumblebee. “Prowl, coming here just jeopardized our mission here! If we weren’t hounded by both Shockwave and Eggman…!”

“Bumblebee, that’s enough,” snapped Optimus. “Besides, I think Prowl can help us. The more bots we have here, the more likely we’ll find Shockwave and bring her to justice.”

“Ironhide told me about your first battle with her,” remarked Prowl. “Did you actually bring her to a standstill?”

“Er, well no,” answered Optimus.

“Optimus, Shockwave is a powerful Decepticon,” replied Prowl. “She will not go down easily. Nothing seems to stop her as she’s always one step ahead of her opponents.”

“Wow, way to kill the optimism,” muttered Cliffjumper.

“I’m being realistic,” said Prowl. “I’ve seen her power first hand when I was in the Praxian internment camp run by her. Whatever Autobots went out of line served as either raw materials or guinea pigs.”

“Well, she doesn’t have a spaceship,” countered Optimus. “We’ll just beat her with it and throw her in its brig until we get to Cybertron. Oh, that reminds me, I still need to name the thing.” Optimus thought over it. “Eh, I’ll let you guys and G.U.N. figure it out amongst yourselves.”

“I’ve already taken control as ship-board A.I.,” reported Teletraan, “and I have finally found her!”

“You did?!” cheered Optimus. “Where is she?!”

“She’s moving towards a relic that was uncovered by Eggman’s forces,” answered Teletraan. “She’s an hour behind, so we have enough time to get rid of Eggman’s robots. On top of that, Prowl should be able to find a new vehicle mode.”

“Already have one,” replied Prowl, “just need to integrate it with my t-cog.”

“Try it out now,” suggested Optimus.

“PROWL, TRANSFORM!” announced Prowl. His arms went under the chest unit as the hover generators moved to the side. His lower torso twisted and folded to become the rear of the car and the door wings shut onto the sides of the car. Prowl’s holo-form was a Mobian German Shepard in police gear.

“That DOES look promising,” praised Optimus. “You chose a good form, Prowl.”

“He’s not going alone, is he?” asked Ironhide.

“No,” replied Optimus. “Ironhide, you’re with us as well.”

“What about us?” asked Jazz.

“You might need a medic,” suggested Ratchet.

“Unless Egghead has any of his Transformers,” answered Optimus, “I don’t want to leave the base totally unguarded.”

“He doesn’t,” reported Teletraan, “so you, Prowl, and Ironhide should be enough.”

“Then let’s roll out!” rallied Optimus. He and Ironhide transformed and all three Autobots sped into the Ground Bridge. They arrived at the coordinates and caught the attention of Eggman’s forces. The Autobots quickly transformed and cut through the robots. It took all of three minutes.

“Sheesh,” muttered Ironhide, “they used to be tougher than this!”

“I’m guessing you’ve had very little in the way of problems with Eggman,” guessed Prowl.

“Dude, the last robot he threw at us turned into a giant egg beater,” confirmed Optimus. “Bumblebee had to throw a rock into the mechanisms that turned the beaters to destroy it.”

“That’s…rather sad,” remarked Prowl.

“I know, right?” asked Optimus. “In any case, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Optimus put his hand on the top and noticed a jiggle. “Aw, man!” he wailed. “I’ll never show off my skills to Prowl now!”

“What skills?” inquired Prowl.

“His coding skills,” explained Ironhide.

“He can code?” asked Prowl.

“I was a data clerk before I became Prime,” elaborated Optimus. “In fact, I was the best.”

“On the one servo,” mused Prowl, “it would be nice to see your skills in action. On the other, we don’t need to waste energy and precious time opening the thing.”

“Fair enough,” conceded Optimus. He then took the lid off. “All right,” he said as he peered inside, “let’s see what’s…SCRAP!” He slammed the lid back on and pointed his gun at the relic.

“Problem?” asked Ironhide.

“It’s a cache of Energon,” gulped Optimus.

“That’s a good thing, right?” quizzed Prowl.

“Not this stuff,” replied Optimus. “Ironhide, call HQ and tell them we have a Tox-En problem. Ask Ratchet if we have a containment unit for the stuff.” The two mechs’ optics went wide.

“Ratchet, we have a cache of Tox-En here,” called Ironhide over the radio. “Is there a containment unit for it?”

“I’m afraid not,” answered Ratchet. “Even if we did have one, it would still depend on the mass and density of the crystal.”

“Slag!” swore Ironhide.

“Then let’s leave it here,” suggested Optimus. “If we don’t want it, then neither will Shockwave.”

“Optimus, who do you think made the stuff?” asked Prowl.

“Remember when I told you about how the entire 1st division of Wreckers was wiped out by a disease?” reminded Ironhide. “That’s the very source of the disease. No way am I going to let Shockwave have it!”

“Then we have to destroy it,” declared Optimus. “But how? From what I’ve heard, Tox-En must be destroyed completely and blasting it won’t cut it. From what I’ve also heard, dizziness and nausea occur on contact and prolonged exposure weakens a bot to the point of paralysis and then snuffs the spark.”

“There’s a volcano 20 kliks from your position,” reported Teletraan. “Throw it in there, container and all.”

“Are you sure it’ll melt in the lava?” asked Optimus.

“Positive,” assured Teletraan.

“Then let’s get rid of this thing,” affirmed Optimus.

“Bots,” called Ironhide, “Shockwave inbound!” Shockwave was rapidly approaching the three Autobots in vehicle mode with Metal Sonic on top.

“All right, bots,” warned Metal Sonic, “hand over the relic, and no one gets hurt.”

“You want it?” snarled Ironhide. He then transformed and opened his back door. Optimus put the relic container inside. “Come and get it!” continued Ironhide. All Autobots zoomed off and went opposite the volcano. Metal Sonic took to the air and Shockwave pursued on the ground.

“You know,” called Metal Sonic, “this can go a lot easier if you let us have the…toxin.”

“It’s Tox-En,” corrected Shockwave, “short for Toxic Energon. And Metal Sonic is right, I fail to see the logic in pursuit. Give us the Tox-En and we’ll let you go.”

“So you can use it on us?” asked Optimus. “No thank you!”

“We won’t, we promise!” shouted Metal Sonic.

“Liar!” called Prowl.

“I thought my visual apparatus was malfunctioning,” remarked Shockwave. “I could have sworn you died, Prowl.”

“Well, you’re clearly wrong!” snapped Prowl.

“Soon to be corrected,” declared Shockwave.

“If I don’t put you behind bars first!” shouted Prowl as he turned around and charged at Shockwave.

“Prowl! Stay in formation!” ordered Optimus. “We don’t have time for grudges!” Prowl didn’t listen. Shockwave was about to fire, but Prowl transformed and jumped onto her top. He then pulled her gun up to the sky and directed the shot to Metal Sonic. Metal Sonic saw the oncoming laser blast and dodged.

“Hey! Watch where you’re shooting!” he shouted. Shockwave didn’t dignify that with a response and started twirling her gun barrel to throw Prowl off. Prowl jumped off in the nick of time and Shockwave transformed. The duel began, but it was an even duel. Like Shockwave, Prowl is a logically minded bot. Pit him against another logically minded bot, and you have a stalemate. For every punch Shockwave pulled, Prowl was fast enough to counter it, even when she used Five Servos of Doom. For every kick Prowl made, Shockwave had already calculated how to block it in five different ways. If it weren’t for the fact that they both needed to recharge, they would have dueled like this forever. Optimus and Ironhide, however, still needed to get Metal Sonic off their skidplates before they could help Prowl.

“Ironhide, what do you suggest?” asked Optimus.

“We need aerial support,” replied Ironhide. “I can’t get up there because it would put the Tox-En too close to Metal Sonic’s claws.”

“You can’t, but I can,” planned Optimus. “I’ll keep Metal Sonic busy. Get to the volcano and dispose of the relic.”

“Yes, Sir!” confirmed Ironhide. Optimus switched to flight mode and took to the air. Metal Sonic tried to dive down, but Optimus got in the way. He kept pushing and nudging Metal Sonic upwards.

“A pity you can’t even catch me, much less Ironhide,” Optimus taunted. “What’s even more pitiful is that you can’t do this!” Optimus then dismissed his holo-form and converted to robot mode in mid-air. The vehicle mode hover generators were now flight jets.

“A pity that you didn’t upgrade yourself after our last encounter!” called Metal Sonic. He stuck his right arm out and used some invisible force to grab Optimus by the leg. All of a sudden, Optimus felt himself being slammed into the ground. “Ah, it’s amazing what one can find,” cheered Metal Sonic, “such as the Polarity Gauntlet! Shockwave examined it and upgraded my hands to have magnetic fields be generated so I can push objects away or lift them as if I had the strength of titans!” To prove the latter, Metal Sonic grabbed Optimus by the shoulder and flew straight up. “Tell me, Defectimus Prime, how did you manage to believe that defending these meat sacks would amount to anything?!”

“I don’t know,” countered Optimus, “how did you manage to fix the icing problem with the resources of this planet?”

“…Icing problem?” asked Metal Sonic. It was then that he realized he went too high and ice had formed all over him, interfering with the proper functioning of his new Polarity Hands. They shut off and he briefly drifted from Optimus.

“Might want to look into it,” suggested Optimus as he grabbed Metal Sonic and tossed him towards terra firma. As Metal Sonic fell, Optimus paused in the air for a few seconds until gravity remembered how to work on objects. As Optimus fell, he tried to engage his flight jets. “Flight mode, activate! Jets, online! Flying things, turn on!” Nothing was working. “Come on! Come on! Come on! Prime jets, on!” That was the phrase and the flight jets were on! “Yes!” cheered Optimus as he flew to where Metal Sonic was falling, caught him, and threw him straight at Shockwave. She didn’t see the oncoming object and was soon given a hit straight to the processor.

“Optimus, what are you doing?!” protested Prowl.

“Screwing things over for Shockwave!” said Optimus. He then punched Shockwave in the chest and got Prowl to transform and follow him.

“What’s your plan of attack?” asked Prowl.

“Er…” stammered Optimus.

“YOU DON’T HAVE A PLAN?!” said Prowl.

“I’m making this up as I…,” Optimus trailed off as he saw a building with some explosive rockets near a G.U.N. base, “…go. Prowl, go get a mobile missile launcher platform from the base over there. I have an idea. No leaving the mission behind to satisfy a grudge, understand?”

“Yes, Sir!” obliged Prowl as he moved toward the base. Optimus, in the meantime, kept up the attack as best he could what with Shockwave having the Polarity gauntlet on her person. Shockwave kept picking rocks out of the ground with said gauntlet by using the more ferrous minerals as a means to do so. Metal Sonic wasn’t making things any easier. He had put concealed blasters into the back of his hands and had started using them. Optimus danced around the blasts, but it was putting a drain on his internal Energon reserves.

“Come on, Ironhide!” muttered Optimus aloud. “Where are you?!”

“Right here, Prime!” called Ironhide’s voice.

“Wait, you’re back?!” yelped Metal Sonic. “Then where’s…?

“The Autobots have successfully distracted us from obtaining the Tox-En,” guessed Shockwave. “We failed. As compensation, I shall liberate you from your existence, Autobots.” She then pulled out a small device from her subspace pocket. She flicked it into the air like a coin and then shot an energy blast from her right palm. “CYBER KEY POWER!” she shouted. She then activated her gun arm as the device inserted itself into her weapon’s power pack and turned like a key. Her gun barrel casing then split into two panels and let the inner barrel extend.

“What the?!” yelped Optimus. “A Scrapmaker Rifle?!”

“Where’d that come from?!” cried Ironhide. Shockwave then fired on the two.

“Prowl, where are you?!” shouted Optimus over the comms.

“We have her in our sights,” called Prowl over the comms. “I see she’s using her Cyber Key.”

“Cyber Key?” gulped Ironhide. “That’s just a myth!”

“You saw her invoke it with your own optics, why call it a myth?” asked Prowl. “In any case, I have the missile launcher unit. We’re ready to fire at your command.”

“Do it!” declared Optimus. Prowl nodded to the commander of the unit and the missiles were launched directly at Shockwave. The explosion of missiles hitting their target was deafening. All they could see was the light from the aftermath. “Did we get her?!” asked Optimus excitedly.

“Prime,” sighed Prowl, “Teletraan is still sending us her spark signature. Why do you even ask?”

“I’m an optimist,” replied Optimus.

“You’re an idiot!” insulted Ironhide.

“Both of you are wrong,” answered Shockwave as the dust cleared, “you’re dead.” A red aura had surrounded Shockwave to protect her from the missile fire. She then jumped to where Prowl was and tossed him into the others. She then proceeded to fire on them and damage them.

“Optimus, we have to get out of here!” coughed Ironhide.

“And let Shockwave terrorize G.U.N?” protested Optimus. “Not fragging likely!”

“Optimus, I’ve run through all possible scenarios in my battle computer,” reported Prowl. “We’ve destroyed the Tox-En. Let’s get out of here!”

“Not gonna happen,” snarled Optimus. “Until Shockwave is brought down, I’m not backing down!”

“One glaring flaw in your logic,” remarked Shockwave, “you’re outmatched.”

“Warning,” reported Optimus’ internal computer. “Power reserves, ninety-six percent depleted. Stasis lock, commencing.”

“Override!” ordered Optimus.

“Repeat, power loss critical,” droned his internal computer. “Further expenditures will result in loss of Spark. Stasis lock must commence.”

“OVERRIDE!” shouted Optimus.

“Acknowledged,” replied the computer.

“Many an Autobot have disregarded the warnings of their internal computers,” mused Shockwave. “All have fallen by my hand as they believe the universe has given them ‘Burning Justice’ to get through the fight.”

“We’ll see what can get me through this fight!” snarled Optimus as he got into a defensive stance. Inside Shockwave’s head, she had projected a 3-D holographic image of the finishing blows.

“First, fire at target’s torso slightly to the left. Target will twist and turn 360° to attempt wild right hook. Initiate Five Servos of Doom to first block with left arm, then jab at wrist, elbow, and shoulder joints in that order, then left uppercut to face. Target will be at critical power loss and land flat on its back. Fire at Spark Chamber. Primary Results: Autobots are thrown into chaos without their Prime, forces will haphazardly retreat, and will one day leave their base open to attack on account of morale being destroyed. Secondary results: Experiments on the Matrix are opened. Initiate plan.” Shockwave quickly fired on Optimus who twisted out of the way and moved to throw a wild right hook, which Shockwave blocked. A nano-second after that, she jabbed at his arm joints and finished with a left handed uppercut to his face, knocking him flat on his back. At that point, Shockwave planted a foot on his chest.

“Final Warning: Power failing,” droned Optimus’ computer, “Jeopardy extreme. Repeat: Extreme.”

“You are at a disadvantage,” declared Shockwave. “I have a means to increase my power. I have years of combat and scientific experience ‘under my belt’, as the humans would put it. You are exhausted. Damaged beyond recovery. Defeated. What can you possibly do?” Optimus looked around hopelessly, then saw an object glint. His optics zoomed in and saw the object. He grinned.

“What can I do?” he chuckled. “Something you’ve never truly done, improvise!” Optimus then bit down on her foot. Shockwave howled in pain and started hopping around, clutching her foot. As the Auto-imp laughed, she then kicked him in the mouth. It was so hard, he landed nearer to the object. “So worth losing a few dental plates!” he said. The object then beamed information into his head. He got up again after the data transfer was complete. “Hey! Shockwave! Just tell me if I’m doing it wrong!” Shockwave’s eye flickered for a moment, her indication of blinking. He then flicked the object into the air and gathered energy into his right palm. “CYBER KEY POWER!” he shouted. His gun then floated into the air in front of him as he deployed his axe. Once the key inserted itself into the back of the gun and twisted, the gun’s handle moved to the back as a handle on top sprouted and the barrel split and extended. The axe handles combined as it inserted itself into the barrel.  “Sweet! Spark Drinker Axe!” cheered Optimus.

“Power levels now at acceptable margins,” reported his internal computer. “Stasis lock warning cancelled.”

“Now, Shockwave,” called Optimus, “I hope you don’t think I’m being a tad excessive!”

“Cyber Key power now depleted,” answered Shockwave’s computer.

“No!” shouted Shockwave as her gun arm returned to its normal configuration and the aura disappeared.

“That’s fine!” replied Optimus as if she just answered his question. “After all, as a Prime, I must be fair!” He then raised his axe. “This is gonna hurt me a lot more than it does you!”

“I sincerely doubt that!” hissed Shockwave. “Sigma, divert all available power to primary weapon!”

“Compliance,” obliged Sigma. As available weapons power built up, Optimus charged at Shockwave at top speed. She fired. A single bolt of red light flew towards Optimus with the intent to do damage, but it failed. It bounced off of Optimus and he struck Shockwave. She fell and landed hard. The impact caused a significant power drain that she went into stasis lock. Metal Sonic saw this and used his Polarity hands to lift Shockwave and then summoned a Ground Bridge back to base. Once they went through, the portal closed.

“Whooo!” cheered Optimus wearily as he waved his axe above him. The energy then faded and his new Cyber Key turned into its old position to let the axe turn back into his gun and combiner axe. Optimus then fell flat on his back and allowed himself to go into stasis lock.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 2: Shockwave’s Rise)

TMC 2-8

Back on Cybertron, Strongarm sat in her husband’s…no, it was her office while Prowl was away. She is acting as Captain of Praxian Law Enforcement and will not let her mind change on that subject. In any case, she sat in her chair and waited for the officer she called in. After a few minutes, he did. He was a tall mech that transformed into a black and white police issue Ford Mustang Saleen S-281E. Like many a Praxian, his alternate mode’s front served as his chest. He had window wings, instead of full door wings. The doors themselves served as arm protection and the front wheels were located on the top of the shoulders. The rear wheels were located on the back of his hands. The rest of the car’s rear served as his legs while the roof folded onto his back. His helmet design was pointed at the top and he had a goatee. “You wished to see me, ma’am?” asked the mech.

“Sit down, Barricade,” directed Strongarm. Barricade sat at the seat in front of her desk. “I’m not happy, Barricade,” rumbled Strongarm, “not happy at all.” She moved to the front of her desk. “Ask me why.”

“Okay,” muttered Barricade, genuinely confused, “why?”

“Why what?” asked Strongarm. “Be specific.”

“Why are you not happy?” sighed Barricade, a little miffed that he had to play this with Strongarm when he had perps to nail.

“Your methods make me unhappy,” remarked Strongarm.

“Have you gotten complaints?” asked Barricade.

“A few complaints,” explained Strongarm, “I can handle. What I can’t handle are frequent complaints on police brutality caused by you, according to eyewitnesses! We can’t have the people scared of stepping out onto the streets when police are on patrol!”

“Did I do something illegal?” grumbled Barricade.

“No,” said Strongarm in a low growl.

“Are you saying we shouldn’t get criminals off the street?” asked Barricade, his voice going up a tad.

“Common sense and the law require that I answer no,” hissed Strongarm, showing her irritation.

“We’re supposed to be slamming criminals in prison!” snarled Barricade.

“We’re supposed to be protecting the public and serving its greater good!” shouted Strongarm. “Starting with assuring people that law enforcement is on its side! We can’t scare people into falling in line!” Strongarm then ran her hands down her face. “Barricade, a police station and its crew…”

“Are like a machine?” finished Barricade.

“I was going to say clock, but yeah,” remarked Strongarm. “It only functions properly when all the parts mesh together. To do that, all parts must be properly maintained and kept clean. No rust, no corrosion at all, just smooth sailing.” She was about to continue, but Barricade’s attention had been drawn away outside. “Barricade, look at me when I’m talking to you! Didn’t your mother teach you how to pay attention?!”

“Someone’s getting mugged right outside the station!” reported Barricade.

“That will be dealt with!” snarled Strongarm.

“With the rookies you have here? No way,” dismissed Barricade.

“You’re not authorized to arrest the perp!” shouted Strongarm.

“Someone with experience has to stop him!” roared Barricade as he moved for the door.

“Stay where you are or you’re fired!” threatened Strongarm. Barricade stopped. “Move away from the door,” ordered Strongarm. Barricade stepped back. “Get over here now,” snarled Strongarm as she tapped her foot. Barricade was not pleased at losing a perp. The air was still and the room was quiet, but Strongarm wasn’t intimidated. He finally stopped in front of her. The mugger was taken in by the new guys. “I’m not happy with your methods,” said Strongarm quietly, “not happy at all. You pull anymore police brutality on anyone; you will be forced to turn in your badge and gun. Clear?” She motioned for Barricade to whisper his response in her audio receptors.

“Crystal clear,” Barricade hissed.

“Dismissed,” directed Strongarm. Barricade left and Strongarm sat back down at her desk. She ran her hands down her face and sighed. Her door chimed again. “Enter,” she groaned. A femme with an alt mode and a build like Prowl’s came in. She was born as Silverstreak, but recently changed her name to Bluestreak. She had a cylinder of Energolisis on her hand.

“Thought you might need this,” offered Bluestreak.

“Thank you, but I’m not tired,” sighed Strongarm.

“You’re lying,” observed Bluestreak, “but I appreciate the sentiment. It’s my shift now, go ahead and talk to Sideswipe.” Strongarm nodded, took the Energolisis and walked out of the office. Bluestreak was in charge as the nighttime police chief. Strongarm finished her Energolisis once she reached the door. She put the cylinder into the waste disposal near the door. Once outside, she transformed and put her holo-form on. Her holo-form was a heavyset pale woman with brown hair in a bun and police clothes. She cruised the Cybertronian streets and then commed Sideswipe.

“Hey!” called a surfer-dude voice. “this is Sideswipe, here for any last minute homicide cases!”

“Maccadam’s Old Oil House, five breems,” directed Strongarm.

“Er, all right boss,” replied Sideswipe. The call ended as she made her way to the greatest diner on Cybertron, Maccadam’s Old Oil house. The greeter let her in and a waitress named Lickety-Split led her in. She had wheels for feet and a helmet design that made her almost like Sailor Moon, she just didn’t have the long pigtails. She led Strongarm to a table that had a red mech that transformed into a 2014 Lamborghini Aventador. His helmet had something on the front so whenever he drives his head into another bot’s, he’d leave a big dent. His vehicle mode’s front connected to his waist where the license plate would be. The roof and windows had turned 180° from the front and had become the robot’s back. The rear had split in half, folded down so the rear bumper became the robot’s knee pads. The feet came from the old split. “Hey, boss bot!” called Sideswipe. “What’s the word?”

“Not until after we order,” remarked Strongarm. She turned to Lickety-Split. “Just a straight cube of Energon.”

“I’ll have a cube spiked with motor oil,” ordered Sideswipe.

“Coming up, cous!” confirmed Lickety-Split. She zoomed off and left the two alone.

“Now will you tell me what’s going on?” hissed Sideswipe. “This secretive wigging out isn’t like you.”

“The offices back at the station have been bugged,” replied Strongarm in a whisper.

“What?” yelped Sideswipe in the same whisper. “We do the bugging! We’re the police!”

“My office, too!” continued Strongarm.

“So, the question is, who shall bug these self-same buggers?” joked Sideswipe.

“There’s something else,” muttered Strongarm.

“Something more bugging you?” asked Sideswipe.

“Will you be serious for a cycle?!” hissed Strongarm. She then inhaled. “Look, I have to take you off the Tarkana case. I wasn’t supposed to tell you and Sunstreaker until tomorrow, but what will the higher ups do, take away my retirement fund when it’s worth 10 chips on the cube?” Sideswipe then realized the whole situation. He may act like an idiot, but that was a spectacle to hide his investigative abilities. Only a select few knew about it, his twin brother being chief among them. There was something or someone that didn’t want him poking around in the business with Optimus’ secretary, so they thought that removing him and Sunstreaker from the case would get them to stop. Strongarm never said anything about investigating on the sly, and she was counting on him to notice that.

“Okay, Strongarm,” he answered. “You want me and Sunstreaker back on the garage killing?”

“That would be perfect,” replied Strongarm. Lickety-Split came back with their orders and so they drank their Energon and traded war stories about how they brought the end of the Decepticon run Praxian internment camps. Strongarm had finished her story and Sideswipe was in the middle of his.

“So there I was,” he continued, “strapped to a dissection table with Knock-out about to cut me open and with Lugnut watching. Just as Knock-out was about to start, Lugnut told him to wait…”

“Just so he could monologue?” asked Strongarm.

“Just so he could monologue!” confirmed Sideswipe. “And you know what he would say at a moment’s notice. ‘The Decepticons shall crush you unworthy Autobots! The glorious Decepticons shall wipe out your tyranny! The universe shall praise our hallowed name!’” He was about to continue when their comms units chimed in.

“All units, this is Bluestreak,” said the caller. “We’ve got trouble near the station. Barricade got into an argument with Sunstreaker and now they’re fighting it out. I don’t think Barricade’s holding back. He’s about to kill Sunstreaker!”

“On our way!” replied Strongarm and Sideswipe. They paid for their Energon, transformed once they got out of the diner, and sped towards the police station. Time was of the essence, and they used every ounce of speed they had. Once they arrived, they saw Barricade over a battered Sunstreaker. He was built like Sideswipe, only yellow and had Thor like helmet wings. On top of that, he had missile launchers on his shoulders. Barricade was about to punch through Sunstreaker’s Spark chamber before he decided to speak.

“I had that guy in the bag,” he growled, “until you tackled me and let him get away! You kept going on about how punishing criminals as they’re being arrested is wrong! And yet that coddling has allowed them to escape again and again and again and again and nothing changes! And so, for interfering, you shall pay with your Spark!”

“And,” shouted Strongarm as she and Sideswipe raised their guns, “on top of being fired, Barricade, you’re under arrest for excessive force and attempted mech slaughter. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, the court shall provide one to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

“Are you fragging serious?!” roared Barricade as he carelessly tossed Sunstreaker aside. “We’re supposed to punish and enslave any and all criminals! Society will never change unless we take control!”

“That’s not what an Autobot would say,” snarled Strongarm. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or do I have to risk going too far?” Barricade said nothing, he just charged at Strongarm and got into a grappling match with her. A poor move, there’s a reason she’s called Strongarm. She managed to get out of Barricade’s hold and get him onto the ground. “You really should have taken the easy way,” she snarled. A couple of police bots came to the scene. “Take him in,” ordered Strongarm as she slapped stasis cuffs onto Barricade’s wrists.

“The Autobot way is wrong!” shouted Barricade as he was led away. “All it does is coddle other bots!”

“Tell that to the judge,” remarked Strongarm.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 2: Shockwave’s Rise)

TMC 2-7

The place Optimus drove to was Emerald Coast. Everyone had gone home for the evening, which was a pity, because the sunset was gorgeous. Optimus had transformed so he could see the sunset with his own optics. He sat down on the sand and watched as the sun painted a display of purple, yellow, red, and orange. As he gazed, he imagined himself on the roof of the Iacon Hall of Records with Elita 1. She hated being called by her real name, Ariel, so she and her sister followed their uncle’s footsteps, name-wise. In Optimus’ daydream, he was back to being Orion Pax. He and Elita were gazing lovingly at each other and were slowly leaning towards each other. They were about to kiss when an alarm blared and Orion Pax quickly became Optimus Prime again, albeit a startled Optimus Prime. “Who’s there?!” he demanded as he drew his gun. He then heard laughter.

“Man,” giggled the laughter’s source, “I can only imagine what your face looked like!” Optimus blinked, then put his hand to the side of his head as if he were using his comms unit.

“What the heck, Teletraan?!” he snapped.

“Your daydream was too good!” laughed Teletraan. “I had to do it!”

“Was there a reason you called,” asked Optimus, “or were you just trying to give me a spark attack?”

“Well,” replied Teletraan, “yes, actually. A ship has entered Mobius’ orbit. It’s starting its landing cycle.”

“The Harbinger?” quizzed Optimus. “Already?”

“Er, no,” corrected Teletraan. “In fact, it’s not a Decepticon ship. It’s one of the newer Autobot warships.”

“What?!” yelped Optimus. “Who authorized it to come here? I didn’t ask for reinforcements!”

“You didn’t, but, if things do check out, the Council sent it,” reported Teletraan. “The rest of the team is already at the landing site.”

“Bridge me there, now,” ordered Optimus. The Ground Bridge opened and Optimus transformed back into vehicle mode and sped into it. He emerged in a grassy area to see the team, Sonic, and Amy already there. “Ratchet, what have we got?” asked Optimus as the ship extended its landing struts.

“It’s the new Vanguard-class Deep Space Interceptor,” answered Ratchet. “Built for speed and is heavily armed with sixteen port-side particle combustion cannons, sixteen starboard laser emitters, a primary star-field missile launcher, and an Overshock sonic battery. Its full crew compliment is 300 but can be piloted with a scratch crew of eight.”

“Teletraan,” directed Optimus, “identify the bots on board.”

“Well, Optimus, here’s the thing,” muttered Teletraan, “I’ve only got two spark signatures on board. One of them is some bot called Prowl, the other, I don’t have a match for.”

“Only two?!” yelped Optimus. “A scratch crew of eight is stretching it, but two?!”

“Hold on, Teletraan, did you say Prowl?” asked Jazz.

“I did,” confirmed Teletraan.

“Someone you know?” quizzed Amy.

“He’s head of Praxian Law Enforcement on Cybertron,” answered Jazz.

“And he’s here because…?” inquired Optimus.

“We’re about to find out,” called Ironhide. The entrance ramp lowered and revealed a figure inside. The figure stepped down the ramp to reveal Captain Prowl of the Elite Guard: Praxian Law Enforcement.

“Captain Prowl, reporting for duty, Sir!” barked Prowl as he saluted.

“At ease, Captain,” directed Optimus. “What brings you and your compatriot here?”

“Well, Sir,” answered Prowl, “the Council sent me here because the Space Bridge we had didn’t work properly, like someone sabotaged it.”

“Not really reassuring,” remarked Optimus.

“The ship also served as one that could overtake the Harbinger,” continued Prowl.

“Overtake it?” asked Optimus. “Why didn’t you ask it to heave to?”

“Because I was just sent here to tell you that the ship has escaped Decepticon prisoners on board, not the Throttlebots as originally thought,” reported Prowl.

“HA!” cheered Ironhide. He turned to Ratchet. “And you owe me some Shanix!”

“Oh no!” sighed Ratchet.

“How did they get out of the Stockade?!” asked Optimus.

“Judging from the Spark signature,” remembered Prowl, “an Autobot got them out.”

“An Autobot did what?!” yelped Ratchet.

“That was 20 mega cycles of my life alone putting each of them in their cells!” shouted Ironhide. “That glitch spawn!”

“Possibly the rest of it, if the Decepticons are gonna start the fight again,” supplied Prowl.

“As if we don’t have enough Decepticon problems as it is!” wailed Optimus.

“Wait, what?” quizzed Prowl.

“Shockwave survived the raid of her Earth lab,” replied Optimus. Prowl tensed up.

“Er, Prowl,” gulped Jazz, “any history you wanna share?”

“Shockwave ran a Praxian internment camp I was in,” answered Prowl. “I thought Megatronus killed her! A shot to the head usually does that!”

“Save your anger for when we actually meet her,” directed Optimus. “In the meantime, you and your travel buddy need to scan a new vehicle mode. I’ll clear this landing incident with the government and…”

“Travel buddy?” asked Prowl.

“Yeah,” confirmed Optimus, confused at Prowl’s reaction, “the other bot on board.”

“What other bot?” quizzed Prowl.

“We found two spark signatures on board,” reported Ratchet.

“Impossible, I was the only one on board,” dismissed Prowl. “The Council put in a computer program that took over the whole ship and flew me here. It fragmented beyond repair and so I deleted it.”

“Then, who’s the…?” Optimus asked before something came through the hull from the inside and ran away. “Hey! That’s a new ship, buddy!” shouted Optimus. The creature didn’t listen as it ran away.

“Yet another problem,” sighed Cliffjumper.

“On top of getting a new vehicle mode for Prowl,” remarked Optimus. “On that note, Prowl, we’re using extreme cover on account of there being too much Energon here.”

“How?!” asked Prowl.

“Don’t look at me!” protested Optimus. “We’re still trying to figure that out!”

“We’ll brief you on our situation when we get to base,” assured Ratchet. Optimus commed in.

“Base, requesting Ground Bridge,” he commanded.

“Understood, Sir,” replied Teletraan.

“Is someone at the base?” asked Prowl.

“Hey! Hello!” called Teletraan.

“He isn’t connected,” sighed Optimus, “he can’t hear you.”

“Actually, yes I can,” countered Prowl. “Who are you?”

“I think you knew me by my project name,” chuckled Teletraan, “Project: Battle brain?”

“…You do know that the A.I. was declared unstable?!” yelped Prowl.

“Your face is unstable!” snapped Optimus.

“…Wow Op, really?” asked Jazz.

“Sadly, that was the best he could give at an awkward moment,” sighed Teletraan.

“Shut it, and bridge the nine of us back,” hissed Optimus.

“Nine?” repeated Prowl. “You mean these two met you guys before?”

“Mobius’ news people caught us and did their job,” replied Optimus.

“An entire planet knows about us?!” shouted Prowl. “Article 9, Section 6, Subsection 31 of the Pax Cybertronia states…”

“I know we’re supposed to be robots in disguise!” snapped Optimus. “However, if we didn’t let the world know we’re here, we may be mistaken for their local enemy. A man named Dr. Eggman has discovered how T-cogs function and is digging up the resting places of the fallen soldiers here. He has an empire of robots and people are antsy about us as it is. Hence why we have a liaison with the government.”

“And you believe these people can offer anything to us?” asked Prowl.

“Well,” replied Optimus, “Sonic here can run at speeds capable of breaking the sound barrier and Amy can magically summon an oversized hammer out of nowhere. And that’s just a small percentage of the super powered people here.”

“Well,” mused Prowl, “that’s…enlightening. …To base then?”

“Bridge is right behind you guys,” directed Teletraan. “By the way, I call being Ship-board A.I.”

“Dibs on being the captain,” called Optimus.

“What?” yelped Prowl. “You can’t call dibs on a Naval position!”

“Sure I can,” argued Optimus. “Dibs.”

“You really are a child,” muttered Prowl. The Autobots, Sonic, and Amy went through the portal. Once it shut, the figure from the ship tapped its foot.

“The curse of deep cover,” the figure sighed in an alto voice. She then darted into the nearby woods.

Categories
Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 2: Shockwave’s Rise)

TMC 2-6

After Optimus was given his physical, Ratchet released him and it was another day of sensor sweeps for Shockwave and Metal Sonic. The Autobots were getting restless. “Anything?” asked Optimus.

“No,” replied Ratchet. There was a few minutes’ silence.

“How about now?” quizzed Optimus.

“Optimus,” hissed Ratchet with a little less patience, “you will be the first to know if I find something.” There was a longer silence. A few minutes later, someone crept up on Ratchet and tapped his shoulder. Ratchet groaned as he guessed who the finger belonged to. “Would someone keep him occupied so I can get some work done?!”

“Hey, Optimus,” called Bumblebee, “can I talk to you?”

“What about?” mumbled Optimus.

“That rallying cry you used last week,” replied Bumblebee. “The Autobots and I have been talking and we like that one.”

“What? Transform and roll out?” asked Optimus.

“That’s the one,” confirmed Bumblebee. Optimus considered.

“Bumblebee’s right,” called Ratchet, “it’s short and simple. That’s the mark of a more powerful rallying cry.” Optimus considered some more.

“You know,” he declared, “I like that. Transform and roll out it is!”

“Hey, Prime!” called Jazz as he came into the base. “Check it out!” He fished out a metal orb from his subspace pocket. Ratchet saw it and his optics widened in surprise.

“Where did you find that?” he asked.

“It was during my patrol around the base,” reported Jazz. “I found it embedded in the mountains.”

“I remember a picture of that thing from the history trax,” recalled Optimus. “Didn’t Iacon put valuable secrets into those things and send them off of Cybertron to keep them out of Decepticon hands?”

“They certainly did,” replied Ratchet. “The containers can only be opened by a master coder. At the moment, that’s you, Optimus.”

“If the thing inside is dangerous,” directed Optimus, “I need you on standby.”

“Understood,” replied Ratchet. Optimus then got to work. It took a long, tedious time to finally get the codes to change properly to open the orb. Streams of light flew out from two perpendicular latitudinal lines and an equatorial line. The resulting hemispheres then floated away from each other to reveal a piece of computer equipment.

“That’s a computer brain,” observed Jazz.

“Wait,” gulped Bumblebee, “if I recall, the only computer brain that was sent away from Cybertron during the war was…”

“The brain of our experimental artificial intelligence!” confirmed Ratchet. “I was one of the bots that helped with the project!”

“You mean Teletraan 1?” asked Optimus. “As in, the failed A.I. that sent many an Autobot into madness after endless screaming?!”

“The same,” replied Ratchet.

“Then we should get rid of it!” shouted Bumblebee as he primed his plasma stinger.

“Hold on!” called Optimus. “Ratchet, what caused Teletraan 1 to scream?”

“From what we deciphered,” remembered Ratchet, “he said ‘Too fast! Too much!’” Optimus stroked his chin.

“Let’s install Teletraan 1 into our system,” the young Prime declared.

“What!?!” was the reaction of every Autobot in the room.

“I have a theory,” explained Optimus. “Teletraan 1 is supposed to be a battlefield A.I., right?”

“Right,” confirmed Ratchet.

“So,” recalled Optimus, “that means that all Autobots would send the A.I. battlefield data through a computer link in their armor. That data would then be analyzed and Teletraan would send suggestions and the Autobot would choose the best course of action, right?”

“Right again,” replied Ratchet.

“What if we’ve added too many Autobots too quickly for Teletraan 1 to initially process?” asked Optimus. “What would happen if we slowly turned him on and carefully add Autobots to his computer link?” Ratchet considered this.

“That might explain some things,” he muttered. “It’s like the Combiner mindset. The minds of all the components have to meld together to make a single mind. That takes the entire combination process and it’s a slow process.”

“Why don’t we install Teletraan 1 to our systems, then introduce ourselves slowly to his brain so we don’t hear his screams,” theorized Optimus.

“Might work,” remarked Ratchet.

“I’m hesitant,” gulped Bumblebee, “but all right.” They opened up a panel under the main console and managed to wire the brain into it. Once they replaced the panel, Optimus was at the controls. As the computer was accepting new updates, he slowly introduced Autobot minds into the system. The process was long, tedious, and nail-biting. There was just one button left to push, and Optimus had to push it. He gulped. He finally pushed the button. For a few seconds, it seemed like hours to the Autobots, there was silence.

“Anyone hear screaming?” asked Optimus.

“I don’t think that’ll be happening,” replied a voice. It startled the Autobots and made them look around. “I’m inside your heads, bots,” called the voice again. The Autobots stopped moving, then turned to the main monitor. The camera was tracking their movements. On the screen was a male lynx in a t-shirt and jeans. “Hey guys!” cheered the lynx.

“Teletraan 1?” asked Optimus.

“That’s me!” confirmed the lynx. “The battlefield artificial intelligence for Autobot use.” Optimus blinked, then decided to check his ethics.

“Teletraan,” he directed, “I’m going to give you a scenario in which you must answer from a logical standpoint and a moral standpoint.”

“What’s the scenario?” asked Teletraan 1.

“The citizens of planet Vorlax continue to pollute the planet,” explained Optimus, “get angry at each other over religion, resources, and money, and continue to sell its children off into slavery of all kinds. As the most powerful computer, what do you do?”

“From a logical standpoint,” mused Teletraan 1, “I would summon a fleet of battleships, have them orbit the planet, and point the guns at their heads ‘for their own good’.”

“I could practically hear the quotation marks around the phrase ‘for their own good’,” observed Jazz.

“Because my ethical subroutines are saying that that course of action is wrong,” replied Teletraan 1. “My main function is to provide the Autobots battlefield data so they can act more effectively in combat. Maintaining an active fleet would require micro management of an entire planet and killing anyone who wants to take me out of the picture. So, in sober truth, Vorlax can do as it wishes.”

“So, in other words,” guessed Bumblebee, “slag them, it’s not my problem.”

“Yep,” confirmed Teletraan 1.

“Then, nothing more needs to be said,” declared Optimus. “Welcome to the Autobots, Teletraan 1!”

“Glad to be part of the team,” affirmed Teletraan 1. “I’ve connected to the new Sky Spy and I’m currently sweeping the planet for Shockwave or Metal Sonic.”

“And?!” asked Optimus.

“Nothing,” reported Teletraan 1. Optimus shouted at the heavens in frustration. He sighed, then went to the front door. “Where are you going?” quizzed Teletraan 1.

“I’m going for a drive,” replied Optimus. “I can’t stay cooped up in here!”

“But you might get spotted by Shockwave!” protested Ratchet. “And the other enemy, it’s always watching!”

“Eggman?” asked Bumblebee.

“No, those annoying news people!” snapped Ratchet.

“If I encounter anyone untrustworthy,” assured Optimus, “I’ll contact you guys. Besides, Teletraan 1 is in constant contact with us all.”

“Oh, fine!” sighed Ratchet. “Just be careful.” Optimus grinned and transformed. His exit was far from slow and tidy. He practically rocketed out the door, scattering some dust and tools. One of them snapped in half when it hit the wall. Ratchet’s optics went wide. He then turned to the empty door. “OPTIMUS, I NEEDED THAT!”