Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 6: Harbinger of Doom and Betrayal)

TMC 6-1

A young woman in similar getup to Tower in his Silas persona and a man in scientist clothes walked towards a hangar and entered. They were looking at a Transformer-sized robot of MECH design. As they walked toward the thing, MECH engineers were giving commands to their machinery to install a t-cog into it. The t-cog was brown, corroded, and damaged. MECH figured one t-cog was as good as another. “Commence Beta test,” ordered the woman. Power flowed into the robot and it clenched a fist.

“Installation complete,” reported an engineer. “Commencing scan.” A flat beam of light came from the robot’s eyes and lowered itself over a helicopter. “Scan successful,” confirmed the engineer.

“Commencing transformation!” chuckled the man that came with the woman. There was a bunch of clicking, like an engine trying to start, but no transformation. The engineers gave more power, but no change happened.

“End it,” sighed the woman. The power was cut, and the robot’s eyes stopped glowing.

“I DON’T GET IT!” roared the scientist. “YOUR FATHER PROVIDED US WITH ALL THE NECESSARY INFORMATION ON THE TRANSFORMERS, YET WE CANNOT MAKE OUR OWN! WHAT ARE WE MISSING?!” At that point, a woman’s laughter came through the hangar. Everyone whirled to see a woman in a slinky, black, ankle-length dress with white fur around the neckline, a red hourglass symbol on the stomach, black, elbow-length opera gloves, ruby red lips, and shoulder-length, wavy, raven hair.

“You, madam,” laughed the woman as she walked forward, her heels clicking against the floor, “you’re Sylvia, Silas’ daughter? The heir to MECH? Heterochromatic like Silas’ real self, Ex-commander Abraham Tower? Didn’t learn much from Daddy, did you?” She then heard the whine of laser weapons being primed. Sylvia and the mystery woman looked outside and saw MECH soldiers pointing their weapons at a certain spider-bot in alt-mode. Sylvia looked at the woman with a wry grin, knowing what she is.

“Enough to know where the soft spots are, Autobot,” she hissed as she removed her goggles, her mask undoing itself like Tower’s did to reveal a brunette woman with long, straight hair, a pink headband, and the same eye coloration as her father.

“Oh, please,” dismissed the woman, Blackarachnia in a new holo-form. “I’m not affiliated with THAT entity. Besides, if I WERE here on the Autobots’ behalf to avenge the broken hearts your daddy left when he was fired from G.U.N, you would be screaming for mercy.”

“Why ARE you here then?” asked Sylvia.

“To propose an alliance,” purred Blackarachnia as she traced Sylvia’s cheek, slowly. Sylvia swatted it away. “Don’t be so hasty,” interjected Blackarachnia. “You see, we have much more in common than you think, and I’m not merely referring to our…physical oddities.” She then revealed her vampiric teeth. Sylvia guessed that she had the same teeth in robot mode.

“Why you little!” snarled the scientist as he leveled a gun at Blackarachnia. Sylvia held up her hand.

“What could I possibly gain from such an arrangement?” she quizzed.

“Insider knowledge!” offered Blackarachnia. Sylvia considered her options.

“…Stand down,” she ordered her men. The men looked at her in an odd fashion. “…Didn’t you hear me?! Stand down!” The men shrugged, then obeyed.

“Wise choice,” remarked Blackarachnia as her holo-form shimmered away. She then transformed. “Now,” she lectured, “a t-cog is no mere piece of machinery you can just slap some polish on to make it function as good as new, it is an organ. Meaning, even if you had one that was shiny, not corroded, it would reject any power source other than Energon.”

“Continue,” invited Sylvia.

“Energon is the fuel,” continued Blackarachnia, “the ammunition, and the lifeblood of ALL Cybertronians, whatever their affiliation. You and I both want it, and, at the moment, I lack the means of locating it. My equipment suffered a major malfunction when the Eggman Hive Wars were going on, taking it permanently offline. I’m a chemist, not an engineer. But, once I supply you with the particulars of its chemical make-up,” she then took out a beaker of refined Energon and put it into the fuel tank of the robot, making it glow, “we can utilize your considerable resources to devise a means of detecting new deposits…for us to share.”

“If the supply meets MECH’s rather significant demand,” remarked Sylvia.

“Is Daddy planning on building an army?” quizzed Blackarachnia. Sylvia arched an eyebrow at her current ally’s comment. “I’m a Decepticon,” continued Blackarachnia, “and Decepticons are no strangers to ambition.”

Back with the Autobots, Optimus was in meditation. He was communing with the Primes. He arrived into the Matrix Realm and saw Solus Prime hammering away at something. “A work of art, or a weapon?” asked Optimus. Solus looked up.

“Not much use for weapons here,” replied Solus.

“Don’t you ever relax?” muttered Optimus.

“I AM relaxing!” protested Solus.

“Well, to each their own,” sighed Optimus. A chair appeared. “Anything new and exciting here?”

“Optimus, are you here for wisdom or idle chit-chat?” hissed Solus.

“The latter,” answered Optimus. Solus looked at her current work and made a few approving grunts. She then dismissed it and her hammer to give Optimus a look.

“The Matrix of Leadership,” she began, “is a vessel containing our wisdom, not Maccadam’s Old Oil House! You can’t just drop by here for a chat!”

“Why not?!” protested Optimus. “Don’t you ever get lonely just talking with your siblings?”

“I’m a recluse,” countered Solus. “I prefer the solitude.”


“And there go my plans for peace and quiet,” grumbled Solus.

“He got hang time on that one!” remarked Optimus.

“He still does that?!” yelped Solus.

“He did it when you guys were made?!” quizzed Optimus. Alpha Trion then came running up.

“Listen to me, Young Warriors!” he urged. He then put Solus onto his shoulder. “Heed the words of my forefathers! If you seek a tree in the forest, you must first look to the ocean!” …Que the awkward silence.

“…Alpha Trion, considering YOU’RE one of Cybertron’s forefathers like the lady on your shoulder,” argued Optimus, “I somehow doubt that’s what you guys said.”

“He’s right, brother,” agreed Solus. “Now, if you don’t put me down, I’m going to hit you over the head!”

“Wait a cycle,” interjected Alpha Trion as he dropped the senile act…and her. “Did you tell him my origin?!”

“I had to!” protested Solus as she massaged her rear. “Besides, someone needs to know! Albeit, his reveal about you was a tangent from the Cyber Keys being found on Mobius.”

“Cyber Keys on…HOW?!” yelped Alpha Trion.

“Ah, that would be MY doing!” called a voice.

“Who said that?!” shouted Optimus as he drew his weapons. Alpha Trion took out his Quill and it expanded into a sword. Solus got her hammer, ready for battle.

“Put those things away!” directed the voice. “You might hurt someone!”

“That’s the idea!” growled Solus.

“Ah, youth,” sighed the voice. “So impulsive.” A Cybertronian ship came out of a green vortex. It looked like it was covered in clockwork. Solus and Alpha Trion’s faces fell.

“Not you,” moaned Solus. “Anyone but you!”

“VECTOR PRIME, TRANSFORM!” announced the ship. The rear engine assembly folded down and the top turrets folded to become feet. The pointed bow folded over onto the bottom as the wings folded in. The arms were released from the sides and the head rotated 180⁰ and the whole thing landed while letting the head rotate to show an older mech with a cocky grin, as if he knew everything about his particular field, think Tony Stark.

“Vector Prime?!” gulped Optimus. “As in, the guardian of Space and Time?! Elita 1’s main Prime?!”

“The very same!” confirmed the mech. He then pulled out a pouch of little pellets of Energon. “Munchies?”

“Thank you!” bid Optimus as some was poured into his hand. The pouch was then knocked out of Vector Prime’s hand by Solus Prime

“You had a hand in this, didn’t you?!” she snarled.

“Had a hand in what?” asked Vector Prime innocently.

“You brought the Cyber Keys to Mobius, didn’t you?!” elaborated Solus.

“Well, they were supposed to be there in the first place,” replied Vector Prime. He was then staring down the length of Alpha Trion’s Quill Sword.

“This has gone far enough, Vector Prime!” he snarled.

“Has it, now?” asked Vector Prime as he gently pushed the blade away.

“That planet’s too hot in terms of activity!” snapped Solus Prime. “Mobius is not ready for that kind of power! They must leave!”

“Ah! Now I remember events!” recalled Vector Prime. “Now comes the part where I tell you that the Cyber Keys will help Mobius in the long run. In fact, they’ll help Optimus prepare for the coming trials.”

“It’s too much!” protested Alpha Trion. “Optimus is not ready for the future!”

“And I say, he is!” argued Vector Prime. “Wouldn’t it be fun to find out if youth or age is right this time?”

“Is anyone gonna let me weigh in on this one?” asked Optimus. “I just came here for idle chit-chat and it all turned into an argument about me as if I’m not here.”

“Optimus, this whole thing was supposed to be a test of your skills,” replied Solus. “you were going to come here in one form or another. We just didn’t expect Jazz to be that reason.”

“Besides,” continued Vector Prime, “given the coming crisis, you NEEDED the lessons you learned on Mobius. You know, friendship, pride and falls, understanding other people’s points of view, those kinds of things. Although, right now, another problem’s about to arrive in two hours. I believe it’s called the…Bringer Carrier Messenger …oh, yes! The Harbinger!”

“The Harbinger’s coming in two hours?!” yelped Optimus.

“At a leisurely Warp 1.12,” confirmed Vector Prime.

“Plenty of time for the defenses to be raised!” declared Optimus.

“Oh, I really wouldn’t do that if I were…!” called Vector Prime. Optimus then vanished from the Matrix. “…Youth, never listens,” muttered Vector Prime.

“You’re filling him with false hopes!” snapped Solus Prime.

“I’m simply giving him the right tools for the future,” assured Vector Prime.

“How do you know he’ll be ready?!” hissed Alpha Trion.

“I’m the Time-Traveler of our little group of Demigods,” replied Vector Prime. “I’m generally well informed in these matters.”

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