A massive Space Station, twice the size of Jupiter, functioned normally as it orbited a gas giant three times its own size. It was shaped like a globe, but the bottom half was golden while the top was made of windows and atmospheric shields. Looking into the dome, one could see buildings surrounding a central sphere, almost like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. As it floated, multiple ships entered visual range after slowing down from their journey through warp space. The ships were assigned flight paths and docked at their respective air locks. An elderly Femaxian woman, a fat, elf-like man with a goatee and roughly half Optimus’ height, and Earthia of Greengate waited for their new visitors. The visitors (Optimus, Megatron, Llyra, Gaia, Vector Sigma, and Aleena) then came forward. “Welcome to the Council Station,” greeted the Femaxian. “I am First One Marnath.”
“I am Basso Profundo, Grand Conductor of Eurythma,” greeted, or rather SANG, the elf-like man in his bass voice.
“And I am Earthia of Greengate,” finished Earthia.
“Nice to finally meet you in person, Earthia,” replied Aleena. “I’m Aleena, Queen of Mobius.”
“I’m Llyra, Supreme Councilor of Nebulos.”
“I’m-”
“Transformers need no introduction!” sang Basso Profundo. “Especially not you, Optimus Prime and Megatron! You two upended the Council’s hopes that you had finally stopped fighting yourselves!”
“Basso Profundo,” replied Optimus, “what we’re about to tell you all will end our war.”
“Many Primes have said that; all have lied!”
“Basso Profundo, enough!” snapped Earthia. “We have to get going.” She turned to the new arrivals. “If you will follow us.” Everyone followed them to the Council Chambers.
“Very welcoming,” muttered Aleena.
“The Transformers’ reputation isn’t a good one,” explained Optimus.
“What’s that going to mean for us?”
“…No clue.” They entered the chambers and Optimus’ group was floored by how many members there were. Earthia then took the highest seat and tapped a gavel on a little stand. The chambers went quiet.
“As she who issued summons,” she called, “I convene this, the ninety-eighth Galactic Council.” Everyone sat down. “To confirm your council-ship and right to be heard, present now your pieces of Tarxanite, my fellow councilors.” Optimus’ optics went wide as he looked to Aleena, then Megatron. Megatron was still looking around the chambers.
“Bigger than I remember,” he muttered. “Must have added new members.”
“Megatron, Tarxanite!” hissed Optimus. Aleena looked to him in pleading.
“Relax, look,” assured Megatron. “This isn’t the first time I set foot on this station. Sentinel Prime and I came here to try and plead our case about Mobius when it was Earth. They laughed us out, but we still managed to be heard at least.” Optimus and Aleena then noticed what people were putting into a collection bowl that floated by their seats.
“…They’re not pieces of…Tarxanite, whatever it is,” remarked Aleena. “They’re pieces of junk!”
“The original plan was to use Tarxanite to buy your right to be heard,” explained Megatron, “but when the First Galactic Council came together, it was during a Galactic Economic Depression that was so bad, you couldn’t even buy a gemstone as common as Tarxanite. They were, to a point, flat broke when they came together.”
“…So, change the name!”
“To what, pieces of whatever we happen to have in our pockets at the time? Real grand sounding.” They then went through their pockets and put them into the bowl. This went on for a minute until it stopped at Basso Profundo’s seat.
“Basso Profundo, your Tarxanite, please,” directed Earthia.
“Might I point out,” sang Basso Profundo, “that we are still short a delegation. I am as content as a chorus to wait until the Quintesson Imperial Magistrate arrive.”
“The Imperial Magistrate is dead!” called a voice. Just then, Judge Commodore Brinn stepped into the chambers and deposited what he had in his pockets. “Thanks to THEIR banishment of THEIR devil from an insignificant planet,” he pointed an accusing finger at Optimus and Megatron as he spoke through his face of wrath, “my planet and people are gone! I have only a ship of survivors, and no women to help restart the race! Optimus and Megatron, I accuse you of using Unicron as a means of eliminating us!”
“Not guilty!” countered Optimus. “We only wanted Unicron out of our lives! The coordinates were supposed to go somewhere away from all civilizations, especially from those even bordering on the Neutral Zone!”
“Whatever crime we have committed, I assure you,” supplied Megatron, “it was NOT our intention. We have proof of this.”
“Oh, do you?!”
“He refers to us!” called Gaia. The Council members then got a better look at her and Vector Sigma and started chatting amongst themselves.
“A Vok?!”
“Is that Lux and Umbra’s daughter?!”
“This is impossible!
“Unicron is only the darker half of a Vok named Primacron,” continued Gaia. “The Transformers are not guilty of the Quintesson Genocide. If anything, we are.”
“What proof do you have that YOU are the real guilty party?!” demanded Brinn.
“Allow me to tell the tale,” explained Vector Sigma. “Attach me to the best mind probes you have. You will see that I am not lying.”
“…Bring out the T-9 model mind probe,” called Earthia. Vector Sigma was wired to a machine. “Now, speak.”
“It starts before the Big Bang,” began Vector Sigma.
Once he finished his tale, everyone got readings that confirmed he was telling the truth and was sane. Brinn seemed to have sobered up. “…Very well, I withdraw my accusation of the Transformers being responsible for the genocide of my race. You’re still accused of rebelling against us when we commanded Cybertron.”
“On that, we happily declare that we’re guilty,” answered Optimus. Vector Sigma was removed from the mind probe and returned to his seat.
“The question is not whether the Transformers are responsible for Quintessa’s destruction,” called Earthia. “The question is that Primus and Unicron woke Tornedron up and Starscream’s directing the action. So, how do we answer it?”
“We fight them!” called Vector Sigma. “We all have weapons and-!” The chambers hooted in laughter. Basso Profundo stood up.
“This station is a fortress,” he belted out, “a well-supplied fortress! There is no need to fight if they cannot get in!”
“My friends,” called Megatron, “there is a third option. In another age, when this station was much smaller, the First Galactic Council voted to leave the Vok home-world alone. …That was a mistake in the long run. Yes, it kept the peace, but gave Primus and Unicron a means for enacting their combined experiment! Better were the days when mastery of the stars came not from deals with distant Gods, but by working with active ones! Lux, Umbra, and Gaia were the example of divinity taking an interest in their creations! Councilors, we are left with only one option…we must free the Vok and Gaia’s mothers!” The chambers were silent…for only a few seconds. After the silence, jeers followed as everyone angrily pointed at Megatron and made threats.
“Shoot him!”
“Tear out his voice-box!”
“Shoot him AND tear out his voice-box!” called Optimus, prompting Megatron to roll his optics. “Then shoot the voice-box and buff out those scars!” Brinn then spoke up.
“The Imperial Magistrate would have freed the Vok!”
“No one rushed to their aid in the past!” countered Basso Profundo.
“And it’s not likely their mood will improve on their release!” called a woman that looked like a Vulcan but dressed as an Aztec woman and used her emotions. Her name was Alana of Tlalak.
“I agree with Vector Sigma!” called Llyra. “Why should we listen to the pseudo-mermaid?!” Alana twitched as she glared and answered Llyra.
“Because the ‘pseudo-mermaid’ comes from a race capable of conquering your world!”
“You threaten me?!”
“I silence you!” Alana then drew a pistol and leveled it at Llyra. Optimus rushed and knocked the pistol aside, but Alana had fired it at the ceiling from the impact.
“Rash idiot!” grunted Megatron as all hell broke loose.
“This is lunacy!” mumbled Aleena.
“This is politics.”
“Meanwhile, our enemies are bearing down on us,” muttered Gaia.
“If they aren’t already here,” mused Vector Sigma.