Galvatron sat in the Captain’s chair as Delmox and her team assumed their stations. “How close is the Roguestar?” Galvatron asked Blackarachnia as she manned the helm.
“A kilometer off, but it’s just…sitting there,” reported Blackarachnia.
“That doesn’t make sense,” muttered Sandra.
“Shockwave, hail the station,” ordered Galvatron.
“Channel open,” replied Shockwave as a three-armed humanoid with a long neck and head appeared.
“Mr. Teenak, there’s a Renegade Gobot Roguestar a thousand kilometers off your station.”
“I don’t think the Renegade Gobots are planning to attack us,” replied the alien, Mr. Teenak.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because, at this moment, Cy-Kill himself is in my office.” The viewscreen turned to reveal a Gobot with motorcycle kibble. The Gobot’s organic face was twisted in a sly grin.
“…Cancel red alert,” ordered Galvatron. “Uncle Optimus and I are beaming down.” Delmox activated a silent comms channel and informed Searchlight’s team of Galvatron and Optimus’ arrival.
“And you managed to man your stations without detection?” asked Ranzo.
“I trained my officers on how to operate a Kaon-class vessel, should we ever find ourselves on one,” explained Delmox.
“Good thinking,” praised Eenar. “What happened when Optimus and Galvatron beamed down?”
“Cy-Kill explained that he and his fellows were invoking shore leave rights. Galvatron told him that they could use their shore leave rights, but only three of his men at a time. Galvatron would also send down three of his crew to watch the Renegade Gobots. And, while I’m on the subject of Cy-Kill, I must say that history was right on a certain aspect of him.”
“And that aspect is?” asked Burn.
“Cy-Kill is a big, fat ham!” The Council allowed a small chuckle as Delmox continued the story.
Searchlight and her team continued their search for their Crasher. Mazzu and Azzax approached Searchlight’s table at the bar. “We completed our search of the lower habitat ring,” reported Mazzu. “There’s no sign of-” His report was interrupted by a playful yip, almost like a small dog’s happy bark. The Nebulan twins then noticed Searchlight was stroking something.
“What are you petting?” asked Azzax.
“Cute-sounding, ain’t it?” sighed Searchlight. She then revealed what she was petting. “It’s called a-” The animal was a ball of fur with long legs, a wide mouth full of omnivore-based teeth, and soulful eyes. The wide pupils of the animal contracted when it caught sight of the Nebulans, and it extended its legs while screaming at them. The Nebulans roared and drew their knives, prompting Searchlight to hide the animal.
“Uh oh!” called an onlooker. “Someone brandished a Poozit at the Nebulans!”
“Will you two sit down?!” Searchlight snapped at the twins. “You’re drawing attention!” The two looked at each other before sheathing their knives and sitting down.
“Doctor, where did you find that…Poozit?!” snarled Azzax.
“From a man named Arakujos,” explained Searchlight. “He told me Poozits like everyone, but this one doesn’t seem to like you boys.”
“The feeling’s mutual!” hissed Mazzu. “They’re detestable animals!”
“I always thought you organics liked animals, especially soft, fuzzy ones that make pleasing sounds.”
“Those monsters do nothing but breed and consume food!” growled Azzax. “If you feed that thing even the slightest morsel, then you’ll have ten Poozits, then a hundred, then a thousand in a matter of hours!”
“Will you calm down?”
“Listen to Azzax!” urged Mazzu. “Those things are considered a grave threat to the Imperial Nebulan Republic!” Searchlight stared in disbelief at them.
“This?!” She showed off the Poozit and it screamed at them again. She then hid it again. “A mortal enemy of the Imperial Republic?”
“They’re an ecological menace!” insisted Azzax. “A plague to be wiped out!”
“Wiped out?! What are you saying?!”
“Hundreds of Nebulan warriors hunted them throughout the galaxy,” explained Mazzu. “An armada obliterated the second Poozit homeworld. By the mid-6,000’s, it was believed that the Poozits were manageable again!”
“Another glorious chapter in Nebulan history,” scoffed Searchlight. “Are there still operas about the Great Poozit Hunt?”
Back on the Nemesis, Delmox, Sandra, and Annus simply did repairs as Galvatron, with Amy on his shoulder, wandered the corridors. “Bridge to my son,” called Megatron’s voice over the comms. Galvatron then headed over to the nearest comms terminal.
“Galvatron here, with Her Majesty.”
“Mr. Rozix wants to talk to you.” Galvatron rolled his optics.
“Not again,” sighed Amy.
“Put him through,” muttered Galvatron. A stuffy, uptight voice then came through the unit.
“Captain Galvatron, I demand to speak to you!”
“Yes, Mr. Rozix, what can I do for you?”
“This station is swarming with Renegade Gobots!”
“I was unaware that three Renegades constitutes a swarm.” Galvatron could practically hear Mr. Rozix grinding his beak. Delmox and her team continued repairs as Annus Magnus looked at Amy.
“Is that really a natural color?” he asked.
“Most Mobians have colors across the entire spectrum,” explained Sandra.
“Galvatron, there are Renegade Gobots on this station!” snapped Mr. Rozix over the comms. “That’s the issue! Now, I want you to keep that grain safe, you hear me?!”
“Mr. Rozix, I have guards around the grain, I have guards on each Renegade, the only reason those guards are there is because the Black Block Consortia and the Galactic Council want them there! And as for what YOU want-!” Amy cleared her throat, cutting Galvatron off. Galvatron sighed as he continued. “…it has been noted and logged. Galvatron out.” He cut the call and turned to Sandra. “Excuse me, could you show Her Majesty back to her quarters?”
“Yes, Sir,” replied Sandra, gulping nervously.
“Going to Repair Bay to take care of your headache?” Amy asked Galvatron.
“You know me too well, Your Majesty.” Galvatron headed off.
“Er, Your Majesty,” gulped Sandra, “I didn’t get to see your quarters. Do you mind showing me-?”
“I can get to them myself; I just didn’t want to refuse in front of Galvatron,” replied Amy. “Thank you anyways. By the way, just for future reference, Deck 7, Corridor 12, Room 4.”
“Seven, Twelve, Four. Got it. Thank you, Your Majesty.” Amy strolled off to the elevator.
“You missed out!” hissed Annus Magnus once Amy was out of sight and the repairs were finished. “I can’t believe you don’t want to talk to her!”
“That’s the last thing on my mind,” replied Sandra.
“Come on, Sandra! Are you seriously telling me you, of all people, aren’t interested in meeting one of Mobius’ greatest Queens?!”
“We have a job to do, Annus,” interjected Delmox.
“But it’s Queen Amy Rose I!”
“Look, of course I want to meet her!” hissed Sandra. “I want to shake her hand! I want to ask her about her first trip to Nebulos! I want to ask her about her time as the Scarlet Specter! I want to ask her about her wedding to Sonic! But that’s not why we’re here, Magnus!”
“…You’re right,” sighed Annus. “I guess I’m just so trying so hard to restrain myself about meeting my heroes.”
Back on the station, Searchlight and the twins were at the bar. Llyra, Galen, and Kari then came in. They found a table and sat down. A waitress then took their orders. “That’s her!” Mazzu whispered to his tablemates as he pointed to Llyra.
“That’s who?” asked Searchlight.
“Llyra!”
“…You sure?”
“Her photos are kept in pristine condition,” assured Azzax. “That’s our first ancestor, Llyra!”
“Ah, the opportunity to get her autograph!” said Mazzu.
“…You know, I think you’re anonymous enough,” mused Searchlight. The twins brought out autograph pads and headed to Llyra’s table.
“Excuse me, Supreme Councilor!” called Mazzu. Llyra looked up.
“News folk?” she asked.
“No, just fanboys,” replied Azzax.
“Ah, I see. Who am I making them out to?” She took Mazzu’s pad.
“Oh, just your signature’s enough,” assured Mazzu.
“We’d like this to be anonymous,” supplied Azzax.
“All right then.” Llyra signed Mazzu’s pad, then Azzax’s.
“Thank you!” bid the twins. They headed back to their table to see a Renegade helicopter Gobot named Cop-Tur see Searchlight’s Poozit. It screamed at him, causing all the Nebulans to pause.
“So, they hate Renegades as much as they hate us, hm?” chuckled Llyra as Searchlight hid the Poozit from Cop-Tur. “My friends, this is historic. There’s another race that they scream at! I wonder, did the Renegades ever try to hunt those pests down?”
“Nothing so mundane,” grunted Cop-Tur. He then grinned. “Although, mundane stuff is to be expected from Nebulans. They remind me of Zamojin worms.”
“What was that?!” hissed Galen.
“Easy, dear,” assured Llyra. “You ought to be more forgiving.”
“No, wait,” chuckled Cop-Tur, “I just remembered that there IS one Nebulan that doesn’t remind me of a Zamojin worm. That’s YOU, Supreme Councilor Llyra. A Zamojin worm is soft and shapeless, but you’re not soft. You may be a swaggering, overbearing, tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood, but you’re not soft!” Kari stood from her seat.
“No, no,” directed Llyra. “Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.”
“That’s right!” continued Cop-Tur. “And if I think that you’re a Eurythman Slime Dog, well, that’s just my opinion too!”
“That’s it!” snarled Galen as he and Kari stood up again.
“Sit down, you two,” snapped Llyra. “That’s an order from your Supreme Councilor.”
“You heard what he called you!”
“He’s too weak to waste the effort to punch, so forget it. We’re big enough to take a few insults. Now, sit down and drink your drinks.” Cop-Tur snarled at being called weak and not worth the effort to harm.
“…Frankly, you lot deserve the company you keep!” He then started laughing. “We like Trema and her ilk! We really do! Those backward, magic-spewing, inbred mongrels are so obsessed with archaic methods of rule! Half the galactic quadrant knows it! That’s why they’re learning to speak Gobotronian!” Llyra then twitched at her mother-in-law being insulted.
“Llyra!” hissed Kari. Mazzu and Azzax clenched their fists.
“Boys, no!” gulped Searchlight.
“…Mr. Cop-Tur,” said Llyra in barely a whisper, “don’t you think you should…rephrase that?”
“You’re right, I should,” replied Cop-Tur. “I didn’t mean to say that they were inbred mongrels, I meant to say that they should be sold off as sex slaves FOR inbred mongrels!” As Cop-Tur laughed, Llyra slowly got up, then looked behind Cop-Tur. Cop-Tur turned to see what Llyra was looking at only for her to rip off his helicopter blades and run them through his chest. Not fatal for a Gobot, but certainly painful. His buddies, a jet named Fitor and a car named Stinger, stood from their seats as they faced their Nebulan opponents. That was when the fight really broke out! Llyra led one side as Cop-Tur led the other. As the bar’s door opened to allow a security detachment from the Nemesis to break up the fight, Searchlight saw their passenger on the other side! She got the twins off Stinger and pointed her out.
“Searchlight, TRANSFORM!” Searchlight transformed into her motorcycle mode and Azzax hopped on. They sped off as Mazzu was arrested along with everyone else.
