On a Worldsweeper-class vessel, Shockwave’s old ship, the Enigma, Misfire was narrating to himself. “I wish I could say I was surprised, but…it was only a matter of time before we turned on each other. Our crew consists of Autotroopers and full-fledged Decepticons. War or not, shooting and killing each other’s what we do best. That said, I didn’t think things would fall apart as quickly as they did after Gaia brought us back…or as violently!” He shot someone who rounded a corner. The person, Rumble, then fell. “Whatever bonds we forged over the past few months were burnt the moment the first shot was fired. …Can you burn bonds?” He stepped over Soundwave’s body. “Soundwave, at least, tried to restore order. When he was killed (and Primus, was that messy), all Pit broke loose and I can’t help but feel…Of course, you can! ‘Burn bonds!’ It’s a saying! People say it! FOCUS, Misfire! You’re fighting for your life! …Misfire. Really weird when you say your own name in your head. MISfire. MisFIRE. …SHATTER! You SHATTER bonds, you don’t BURN bonds! Who in the Pit BURNS bonds?!” He then spotted an Aero-type Autotrooper. “Aero-379, the first to fall. Still can’t believe he didn’t get back up. All of which means there’s just the two of us left. Me and-”
“WACKYY-BLADES!” (SPINISTER!) shouted Spinister as he barreled towards Misfire and decked him in the face. Misfire readjusted his jaw and glared at Spinister.
“You just shouted out your own name, you Pinhead!”
“Twirl! In the mouse’s church!” (Yes! To confuse you!)
“Yeah?! Well, confuse THIS!” Misfire then headbutted Spinister in the chest and pushed him into the wall.
“Beetles don’t like peoples!” (That doesn’t make any sense either!) Spinister then kicked Misfire away. “Fishhook!” (Enough!) Misfire then sprawled out on the floor. He tried to pick himself up, but Spinister’s gun was right at his head. “The worms are in my head! They dress up in socks, Toehole!” (I would have waited an eternity for this! It’s over, Misfire!) Misfire simply smiled.
“…Yeah, fair enough.” A shot then rang throughout the ship and Misfire…stared at the dart that attached to his forehead via magnetism.
“Flappy bir…MOON BUCKETS! THE HAMMERS OF MY TROUSERS SMASH PILLOWS! KEEP YOUR GEESE IN THE SUN!” (What the…CRANKCASE! THAT WAS MY SHOT! YOU’RE NOT EVEN PLAYING!) complained Spinister as Crankcase twirled his gun.
“True,” replied the grumpy Decepticon, “but I can’t listen to someone else’s party without wanting to mess with their holo-displays.”
“If anyone’s hacked off,” grunted Misfire as the “corpses” stood up and brushed the mag-darts off themselves, “it should be me! I really thought I had this one in the bag!”
“Flies buzz in your scalp. Make honey as you parade through skirts.” (You get distracted too easily. You bring the voices in your head out in the open.) replied Spinister.
“They’re called ‘Thoughts’,” grumbled Crankcase. “Let me know if you ever have one. Although, you’ll probably try and shoot it out your brain.” Spinister arched an eyebrow. “…That’s where thoughts live.”
“Bloop, dancing puffercows.” (Yeah, like squirrels.)
“…Yeeeaaah.”
“I think Spinister’s referring to your self-narration,” remarked Aero-379 as he got a particularly massive dart off his where-the-sun-don’t-shine. “Whenever we play Shoot Shoot Bang Bang, you-”
“HEY!” snapped Crankcase. “I copyrighted the name! You have to pay me whenever you say it or invent your own!”
“…Whenever we play Mr. Grumpy Head Wound Toting Decepticon Doesn’t Understand How Trademarks Work, you always narrate to yourself aloud and gaze into the distance.” As Crankcase prepared to strangle the Autotrooper, Misfire gazed off into the distance.
“Aero-379’s right,” he remarked. “I DID have a peculiar habit of-”
“See?! You’re proving my point here!”
“Um, dudes?” called Soundwave as he approached the group. “I just did a headcount and found myself asking why you’re all here!”
“A question I ask myself every day,” grunted Crankcase.
“Dude, there’s no one at the helm! Why aren’t you piloting this boat?!”
“Oh, chill the Pit out! This crate flies itself!”
“And successfully navigates itself away from black holes?!” Crankcase opened his mouth to argue further. Nothing came out. His eyebrows then raised up in fear, then everyone else realized what Soundwave was saying! They dashed towards the bridge and manned their stations to escape the black hole.
“Pools swim for markers!” (Engaging warp drive!) called Spinister.
“Altering heading for 279 Mark 301!” reported Crankcase.
“Guys, warp engines aren’t responding!” yelped Flywheels.
“Activate shields!” called Soundwave. “Use the ones pointing towards the black hole to push us away from the gravitational well!”
“Activating shields!” replied Ratbat. “Intensifying areas aimed at the black hole! …Damn! Shields are unable to push us away!” Just then, the ship lurched.
“…Magic plants the fish in the desert!” (A ship’s locked on to us with a tractor beam!) reported Spinister.
“Can you identify it?!” asked Soundwave. Spinister checked his console.
“…Pebbles swim with moths in the lake, meowing at the sunset!” (I can’t get a clear reading, they’re cloaked somehow!)
“I guess visuals are out of the question,” grunted Crankcase.
“We’re moving away from the black hole!” cheered Flywheels.
“We just escaped the gravity well!” reported Ratbat. “Our shields are now pushing us away!” Soundwave sighed in relief.
“We’re on impulse power now,” called Crankcase.
“All stop,” ordered Soundwave. “Rumble, try and send thanks to our mystery saviors.”
“Got it,” replied Rumble. He opened a comms channel and sent their thanks. “…The ship wants to decloak to explain their intentions,” he answered back.
“On screen.” Rumble activated the screen and a ship shimmered into view. Everyone’s optics flickered in confusion.
“Home has hearts of iron, and coal burns pink,” (It’s Cybertronian, but I don’t recognize the design.) remarked Spinister.
“Run a Spark check,” Soundwave ordered Misfire.
“Running Spark check.” Misfire waited a few seconds, then his optics went wide. “Spark signature match found! It’s Megatron’s!”
“Red alert!” Soundwave called in his monotone voice and deployed his battle mask. The alarms sounded and the crew resumed their stations. “Target weapons at their engines!”
“They’re hailing us!” called Rumble.
“Open channel.” Megatron’s face then appeared. Everyone arched an eyebrow. “…Current appearance looks…robust,” remarked Soundwave.
“I thought I’d try a new look after defeating Unicron,” explained Megatron. “Soundwave, I know we didn’t part ways on the best of terms, but we need your help. It concerns our Gods.”
“Vector Sigma’s story: known to us. It is the current reason why we are adrift, doing odd jobs to survive.”
“I’m afraid the situation’s worse than you realize. Starscream’s after our collective head for daring to find out. We’re trying to get the Galactic Council on our side, but we need options.”
“Leave you lot alone for one minute, and look what happens,” remarked Misfire. “Everything’s gone to pot!”
“Soundwave, the Decepticons need you back something fierce! You need a way to defeat Starscream as much as we do!” Soundwave simply stared at Megatron. After a few seconds, he then lowered his battle-mask.
“Why should I take orders from you again? You almost set the D.J.D. on me before Deadlock took them.”
“Because what Starscream is planning is more dangerous than anything I could concoct. Soundwave, we must put aside our differences and work together. If and when we win, we can go our separate ways once more and no one will pursue you. You have my word.”
“…Fine, we’ll go with you.”
“Soundwave!” yelped Crankcase.
“One condition!” continued Soundwave. “You promise us that no one takes our head as we visit Cybertron during our travels!”
“Of course,” assured Megatron.
“Then let’s get going.” The call ended. “Crankcase, follow Megatron’s ship.”
“…Aye, Sir,” grunted Crankcase. The two ships then left that sector of space.