“Strika, this is LUNACY!” Goldbug protested as the Thrashracons stared him and his team down. “The Decepticons devastated Cybertron!”
“The Decepticons ARE Cybertron!” argued Strika. “To fight for one is to fight for the other! And to defy us…is to court death!” The Thrashracons opened fire and scattered everyone. The barrage lasted a good minute until Obsidian saw the soldiers running back to the oil reserve.
“Jetstorm! Missile Spread! Pattern Delta! Target: Wing Bravo!”
“Got it!” Jetstorm fired four missiles over the soldiers’ heads, and they hit the oil reserve, causing a massive explosion. The Autobots looked back, and their optics widened.
“Nice work, Jetstorm,” praised Strika. “The Autobots failed to protect the reserve.”
“Bu…but that…” stammered Goldbug.
“Open your eyes!” shouted Strika as she swung her arm to the side. As she did, something shiny fell out of her arm and landed in the sand. As she explained herself, Cliffjumper inched towards it. “We got readings on the planet’s Energon density! Did you really think we were THAT desperate for fuel?! No, that was just to draw you out! We had planned for someone high up in the Autobot command to come investigate our theft, but the Magnus himself…oh that just put the icing on the metaphorical oil cake! This is no mere raid; this is your execution!”
“…Naaman’s gonna kill us for this,” gulped Goldbug.
“We’ll spare him the effort.” Strika extended one of her shovels and raised it above her head, only to see Cliffjumper examining the object that flew out of her arm. It was a ring of gold, human-sized. “…Pretty trinket, is it not?” she scoffed. Then, the ring grew to fit a Transformer’s hand! Strika goggled. “What in…?!” She then grabbed Goldbug and held the shovel to his neck. “That ring is mine! Hand it over or the Magnus dies!”
“Don’t listen to her!” called Goldbug. “It’s obviously important! Put it on!”
“Don’t you fragging dare!”
“…Sorry, but Goldbug’s the boss here, not you!” Cliffjumper then slipped the ring on.
“The pact has been sealed!” called a young woman’s voice. A lavender mist then surrounded the ring before flying away from it and forming into a young woman flying in the air. The woman had a pink ponytail curving upwards, had gray eyes, tan skin, pointed ears, a light amethyst sleeveless shirt, white shalwar pants, a pink belt, pink sandals, and jewelry on her wrists, arms, ears, neck, forehead, and a gold ring tied into her hair by a low bun. “Greetings, Master Cliffjumper!” called the woman. “I am Shahra, Genie of the Ring! Master, what is thy wish?” Cliffjumper was stunned.
“Genie!” called Strika. “I am your real master! Your ring was given to me by the Erazor Djinn! I order you to kill the Autobots and their organic pets!”
“Even if you WERE my master,” replied Shahra, “I could not grant that wish. Bound Genies do NOT kill! Besides, you don’t wear the ring, Cliffjumper does!”
“Shahra, was it?” asked Cliffjumper. “Here’s MY wish! I wish for me, my fellow Autobots, and our allies to be back in the Shamaran Capital, right in front of the President’s Mansion!”
“Your wish is my command!” called Shahra. A variety of various-sized carpets then scooped the Autobots and their friends up and carried them away. The Thrashracons were stunned at what happened, standing still, and trying to process what just happened. Strika’s face then contorted into one of fury as she finally understood the purpose of the ring.
“ERAZOR!” she bellowed.
The team arrived in front of the President’s Mansion and explained what happened to Naaman himself. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy. “So, let me summarize what just happened, and correct me if I’m wrong about this! Cliffjumper, you promised that the Decepticons wouldn’t take one more quart of oil! After that, you were all duped into abandoning the reserve and the Decepticons torched the reserve, destroying Mobius’ last bit of oil! Is that correct?!”
“Y…Yes, Mr. President,” gulped Cliffjumper.
“Gotta say, I’m not happy! Now, if you were as open about your Energon refining techniques as you are with the other governments, I wouldn’t be so livid!”
“Sir, with all due respect, we have sent multiple invites for you to come to us so you can pick up all files related to Energon refinery,” replied Goldbug. “Since before the Unicron Games. Mr. Jabbar said he would give them to you when you weren’t so busy.”
“…I didn’t get a single invite on my desk,” remarked Naaman. He then pulled out his phone and called someone. “Mr. Jabbar, would you come and clear something up for me? …Thank you.” He then hung up. Mr. Jabbar, a male Mobian Sand Cat, arrived a minute later.
“What can I clear up for you, Sir?” he asked.
“The Autobots claimed that they have sent invitations to you about me retrieving Energon mining and refining for our purposes,” explained the Shamaran President.
“I have the logs to prove it,” continued Cliffjumper. Mr. Jabbar then looked very nervous.
“…Those invitations,” he said carefully, “would have introduced a potential…disruptive element.”
“…What disruptive element?” demanded Naaman.
“Well, the people who work in the oil business…would lose their source of income. We…need it as a…primary reserve in case…Chaos Fusion Drive power…fails.”
“…You hid the invites on the orders of mere businessmen when you are meant to follow MINE?!”
“Our economy can’t support any backup sources of power that aren’t oil! I was protecting Shamar’s interests!”
“Yeah?!” By this point, Naaman was beyond anger, he was FURIOUS! “Well, you are officially relieved of protecting Shamar’s interests and the interests of those damn oil tycoons! You have exactly three minutes to clear your desk! You’re FIRED!”
“But, the election!” wailed Mr. Jabbar.
“You two, get him to his former office and make sure he’s cleared EVERYTHING out!” Naaman ordered two soldiers.
“Sir, you’re making a mistake!” protested Mr. Jabbar as he was dragged away.
“As for you,” Naaman turned to the Autobots, “I would like an invite given to me personally from one of you Autobots by tomorrow morning! We need that oil reserve replaced NOW!”
“I can replace it!” offered Shahra.
“Ah, yes, the Genie. …You really used prayer mats of various sizes?”
“It was all I could summon as a starting point.”
“Shahra, would you be able to restore the reserve to before the Thrashracons stole all the oil they did?” asked Cliffjumper.
“It’s well within the power of a Ring-Genie like me.”
“Then I wish for you to restore the reserve with all of its oil returned to the state it was before the Thrashracons stole what they did and converted it into Energon Cubes!”
“Your wish is granted!” Shahra then raised her hands and golden sparkles flew in the direction of the reserve. Naaman then got a call.
“Yes? …What?! All the damage?! …The oil too?! …Believe it or not, it WAS a Genie. …I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s the truth! …Right, this SHOULD remain under wraps. …Oh, yeah, there ARE magical people here. …Right, we can convince them to take credit until the Genie is ready to be public. …Right. …Perfect. In the meantime, have your people prepare for the construction of an Energon Reserve. …Inter-office politics prevented that. …I knew I could count on you! Bye-bye!” He hung up. “Well, Autobots and Shahra, I’m a grateful man. You have done Shamar a great service.” He then departed and took his guards with him.
“Well, with all that,” muttered Arcee, “we need to…” Goldbug’s arm then fell limp. “…WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR ARM DURING THAT FIGHT?!” She then pounced on Goldbug and started beating him with her tools.
“HELP!” wailed Goldbug.
“GOLDBUG MAGNUS, YOU CARELESS LITTLE JERK!”
“Er, should we…?” asked Shahra.
“Nah, this is normal flirting for them,” replied Cliffjumper. He then called the base. “Teletraan, we need a Ground Bridge back. We’ve got some news that you guys NEED to hear.”
“Coming up,” replied Teletraan. “Oh, and be prepared for new allies.”
“I was about to warn the same thing.” Cliffjumper then turned to the squabblers as the Ground Bridge opened. “Hey! Guys! Ground Bridge! Arcee stopped beating on Goldbug for a minute as they both saw the Ground Bridge.
“…This isn’t over!” Arcee warned Goldbug. She then stormed into the Ground Bridge with a huff.
“…You know, you SHOULD be a little more careful with your arm,” advised Cliffjumper. “That being said, she SHOULD be a little more understanding. She WAS in that same battle.”
“Let’s just go,” grunted Goldbug. He, Cliffjumper, and their new Genie ally then entered the Ground Bridge and it closed behind them.