TMC 24-2

The brouhaha continued throughout the chambers with Marnath, Megatron, Aleena, Vector Sigma, Gaia, and Earthia staying out of it as much as possible with Earthia trying to restore order. Gaia then rolled her eyes and summoned an energy sphere the size of her hand. She then thrust it into the air and fired at the ceiling. That got everyone’s attention. “Councilors, if you’re worried about my mothers being wrathful on you, forget it. The energies this station puts out were once used in another manner to petrify my half-siblings and my mothers. They can be used to free them all again. In return, I promise you, my mothers will grant boons!”

“Whose boons?” asked Marnath as everyone returned to their seats. “The Transformers’ boons? Absolute twaddle-speak says I.”

“If you have a better alternative,” growled Megatron, “please, share!”

“…Space squids,” replied Marnath. Megatron’s optics flickered before he put his hand on his head.

“…Oh boy, here we go!” Marnath addressed the Council now.

“Let us not, dear friends, forget our dear friends, the space squids. Gloriously flippant planet-sized sausages, but if they were all penned up together, they would eat each other without a second thought. That’s the nature of life, isn’t it? So, yes, we could hole up here, well-armed and well-provisioned, and half of us would be dead within whatever passes for a month on everyone’s calendars. It seems, to me at least, a bit grim however it’s sliced. The second option is that we, as Gaia naively suggests, free the Vok and Gaia’s mommies and pray they will be understanding. …I really doubt it. Being petrified and knowing that the universe moved on without you would really enrage you. So, considering that psychological factoid, can we, in fact, pretend that they will be anything other than life scorned, like which fury whatever bad place for the dead in our respective religions hath no? We cannot.”

“Yes, but your 36^th Point of Profit says peace is good for business,” countered Earthia.

“That’s the 35^th Point.” Earthia thought about Marnath’s words, then realized she was right.

“What’s the 36^th?”

“War is good for business. It’s easy to get them confused. Besides Point 36 is the relevant point here. The previous options lead to a profitless peace, so we’re left with one option. I agree with, and I can’t believe I’m validating a man’s suggestion here, Vector Sigma. We must fight.” Llyra rolled her eyes at that.

“You Femaxians ALWAYS run from a fight!” Marnath looked hotly at her.

“Do not!”

“Do so!”

“Do not!”

“Do so!”

“Do not!”

“You do so, and you know it!”

“Do not, slander and calumny!” All eyes were now on Marnath. “We Femaxians only embrace the oldest and noblest of profiteer traditions. I submit that here, now, that is what we all must do. We must fight…to run away!”

“Run away to where?!” called Vector Sigma. “I’m asking for us to fight so we can end this nonsense! One major fight and that’s it! The universe can’t withstand a protracted war against Starscream’s ilk! You’re suggesting forever fighting to consolidate our forces elsewhere!”

“Besides, as per the Galactica Codex,” called Earthia, “an act of war, which is exactly what you two are suggesting, can only be declared by the Galaxy Convoy.” Optimus arched his eyebrow and looked to Megatron.

“Don’t look at me!” answered the Decepticon Lord. “I never heard of such a Convoy either!”

“Earthia, now’s not the time to make stuff up!” Optimus called to Earthia.

“Am I making stuff up?” asked Earthia. “I call upon Treadshot, the Keeper of the Code!” Optimus and Megatron goggled at that.

“…T…Treadshot?” stammered Optimus.

“Dad?” gulped Megatron.

“Oh, this is all ridiculous!” shouted Brinn through his face of Wrath. “Hang the Codex! Who cares-!” A laser shot then struck near his hand. Brinn switched to his face of Doubt/Judgement and looked down with a fearful expression. He then looked up to see a Praxian Cybertronian blow on the barrel of his gun. He had the alt-mode kibble of a generic sports-car and sported a blue and yellow color scheme.

“The Codex is the law,” he rasped. He then made his way to a seat between Optimus and Megatron. He looked to Megatron, then nodded. “You’re looking robust, boy.”

“Th-thanks, Dad,” gulped Megatron. Treadshot then looked to Optimus.

“…Orion, the boy I was forced to saddle with Ironhide during my exile. …He’s made a fine young mech out of you. I’m just sorry I was absent for all these years.”

“…Cybertron’s not gonna be the same one you were forced to leave,” replied Optimus.

“No, but that change will end the corruption you and your mother and brother fought against. …Megatronus, I just wish you didn’t see the need to join the Decepticons.” Treadshot then activated a computer screen and keyed in a command. A set of alien letters then floated across the screen.

“Galactica Codex,” Optimus read aloud. Treadshot keyed in another command and read out the section he wanted.

“Ah!” he called. “Earthia is right!”

“Hang on,” remarked Megatron as he read the entry aloud. “‘An act of war may only be declared by the Galaxy Convoy (title suggested by and acquired from Sigmar Prime), who would parlay with shared adversaries.’ Who woulda thunk it? There IS a Galaxy Convoy.”

“There hasn’t been a Galaxy Convoy,” remarked Alana, “since the Council first formed. That’s not likely to change.”

“Why not?” asked Aleena. Treadshot answered her question after finding the entry in the Codex.

“You see, Your Majesty, the Galaxy Convoy is elected by popular vote or is chosen by appointment by the previous Convoy.”

“Let me guess,” sighed Aleena, “since the Council formed, everyone’s voted for themselves and thus rendered the second means of succession moot.”

“Yes.” Treadshot then deactivated his computer.

“I call for a vote,” suggested Marnath.

“Seconded,” replied Megatron.

“All right, let’s get voting,” declared Earthia. “I vote Earthia of Greengate.”

“I nominate Alana of Tlalak.

“Basso Profundo of Eurythma.”

“Judge Commodore Brinn, last of the Quintessons.”

“Aleena of Mobius.” The crowd looked to the two Transformer Leaders.

“…You ARE members as of now, are you not?” asked Earthia. Optimus arched an eyebrow, then shrugged.

“Optimus Prime of the Autobot Alliance.”

“Megatron of the Decepticon Empire.”

“Llyra of Nebulos.” This went on and everyone voted for themselves until Marnath held the last vote.

“…Optimus Prime of the Autobot Alliance.” Her vote surprised everyone.

“…What?” asked Optimus.

“I know. Curious, isn’t it?” The Council Chambers then went into an uproar, with many Councilors demanding Marnath change her vote to them. “Am I to understand that we’re NOT going to keep to the Codex?” The whine of a blaster being armed silenced everyone as Treadshot pointed his gun at everyone. The Council then sat down.

“…Very well,” sang Basso Profundo. Everyone then turned to Optimus. “What say you, Optimus Prime, the Galaxy Convoy?” Optimus then set his head.

“Prepare every vessel that has weapons,” he declared. “Tomorrow, we go to war.”