Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 8: Growing Problems)

TMC 8-7

“Once the Metarex launch their pods, we’ll activate the Survival board,” Silas called to his troops. He had been making sure MECH knew the plan for the past several days.

“Father,” sighed Sylvia, “we already know the plan. We’ve been inundated with it ever since we made contact with the Metarex.”

“I need to make sure we’re clear, my dear Sylvia,” answered Silas. “Now, when the board is fully powered, we will use it to travel to the nearest habitable planet and…”

“Wait out the effects of the spores,” mumbled Sylvia. “Yeah, yeah, we got it.”

“If you would let me finish,” hissed Silas as he undid the wrappings of his mask and took the goggles off. “we will then begin colonization efforts of our own.” Sylvia then started giving her full attention to her father.

“Sorry, Sylvia lost here,” she yelped. “Sylvia totally not getting it. ‘Colonization efforts’? What about retaking this planet?”

“That’s what I thought the plan was,” remarked a soldier.

“Better to let the Metarex have a dying world than for us to be constantly reminded of our failure to fulfill our mission of superiority,” Tower answered.

“This is OUR planet, not the Metarex’s!” protested another soldier.

“Tower, this whole story is putting you on very shaky ground!” called a third.

“You will address me as Silas, soldier!” snapped Tower.

“He’s got a point,” remarked a fourth soldier. “Why be reminded of our failure to dominate the animals? Better to take the unevolved ones and start again.”

“I did NOT hear you say that, Fred!” snarled the first soldier.

“Enough, all of you,” called Tower. “We, the Mechanically Efficient Champions of Humanity, will survive ONLY if we are united. As the current wielder of our founder’s name, I will ensure our survival in any way…”

“Abraham Tower!” hissed Sylvia. As Tower turned to rebuke his daughter, she put her spiked gloves on. “YOU ARE RELIEVED OF COMMAND!” Sylvia then reeled back and punched him so hard, he was knocked a few yards backwards. As Sylvia charged, Tower put on his own gloves, electric ones, and started fighting back. It was a stalemate with both combatants blocking the other’s blows. Sylvia had the advantage of youth, but Tower had the advantage of experience. However, he taught Sylvia too well. She was more flexible in her thinking. She grabbed a tarp and threw it onto Tower. As he struggled to get it off, Sylvia threw a mop bucket in his path. A FULL mop bucket. He tripped over it, then regained his balance and got the tarp off. “Father, you are a traitor to MECH!” shouted Sylvia. “You would let aliens take our world while you flee from it like a coward! We were made to rule this world, OUR world! That is why I will take the position of Silas!”

“NO!” roared Tower as he activated his gloves. “I AM THE TRUE LEADER OF…!” He forgot the full mop bucket he tripped over. Electricity arced all over him. He managed to get the gloves away from him as medical staff assisted him.

“MECH,” Sylvia began, “is this what we fought for? To allow aliens to take our world? To simply flee this planet like cowards? This is a human’s world and I intend to keep it that way! Who’s with me?!” The majority of troops cheered their support of Sylvia, the new Silas of MECH.

“Stay where you are!” grunted Tower as he leveled a concealed gun at Sylvia. Her followers almost reached for theirs until Sylvia raised her hand, giving a silent order to stand down. The troops remembered the Tarzamp Signal generator, so they simply followed Sylvia out. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE! THAT’S AN ORDER!”

“Sorry,” called one of the doctors that joined Sylvia, “but we have a planet to consider.” The base was cleared as Tower and his few followers remained.

“Orders, sir?” asked a soldier.

“There are too few of us,” sighed Tower. “My own daughter dares betray me. Repopulation efforts have dried up. I must tell the Metarex the unfortunate news.”

“The latest in Tarzamp dampeners,” called Ratchet. “With this, we’ll be able to storm the MECH base!”

“That’s a glorified watch!” remarked Cosmo.

“If we could focus for a cycle,” called Optimus. “The Space Colony is equipping itself with the newest in Mobian weaponry. That should take care of Scarship, at least delaying him. If ground forces are launched, G.U.N has troops stationed at every strategic point.”

“But the Metarex troops have arcanite armor!” protested Cosmo. “Their weapons won’t scratch even the weakest Trooper-class Metarex!”

“Thank you for your opinions,” hissed Topaz, showing irritation, “but, right now, we’re not listening!” She commed someone. “Tails, your project, if you please!”

“Project: Typhoon is ready!” called Tails.

“What good will that do?!” snapped Cosmo.

“Given what went into its construction,” replied Optimus, “a lot, hopefully.”

“What’s it made of?” asked Cosmo, confused at Optimus’ surge of energy.

“The only rezardium deposit on this planet!” explained Optimus. “Equipped with the same shields as Scarship, he’ll have a tough time destroying it! And, with the bio-tech you gave us, it is equipped with something that was once considered impossible technology, the Warp Field Driver!”

“The…what?!” quizzed Cosmo. “Are you telling me…?” The ground rumbled, cutting her off. It then split, but the fissure was man-made. As it opened slowly, something rose from the concealed hangar. 300 meters in length, an orange nosecone, white with blue trim, a large bridge tower, a runway at the bow, and a large hangar to hold several fighter craft, it was an impressive vessel. “A starship?!” breathed Cosmo.

“Mobius’ very first!” replied Optimus as pride seeped into his voice. “Under the command of Miles Prower, I give you the Blue Typhoon!”

“A potential match for Scarship!” praised Cosmo. “I need to see it!”

“Tails,” Topaz called over the comms. “Optimus, Cosmo, and I request permission to board.”

“Permission granted,” bid Tails. “I’ll beam you directly to the bridge.” They started shimmering in a blue light and were taken up into the ship.

“Their own starship?” repeated Megatron as Laserbeak relayed the information. “Interesting. Still, with the Metarex here, we have an advantage.”

“I’m not sure as the Metarex will acknowledge you as the leader of the Decepticons,” remarked Starscream. “Perhaps I should talk to them. It would give them a sense of familiarity to work with. Then the news of a new leader may be broken gently to them.”

“Given your duplicitous nature, Starscream,” argued Megatron, “I would bet that you would try and seize the opportunity to overthrow me and take command.”

“Me?! Take command?!” asked Starscream, slightly hamming it.

“Yes, you,” hissed Megatron. “Every Autobot knew you would kill Jhiaxus to take command. What would stop you from trying that with me?”

“How would the Autobots come to that conclusion?” asked Starscream, dropping the act.

“I’m afraid,” replied Megatron, “Decepticon security, especially after the disaster at Qatar, wasn’t as tight as you thought.”

“Yes,” mused Starscream. “Shame about the Autobots that lost their Sparks at Qatar. I guess they didn’t need YOU in command after that. I can safely guess that you were stuck behind a desk, crunching numbers, for the rest of the war.”

“We could stay on this bridge all day,” snarled Megatron, “constantly reminding ourselves how much we hate one another, but no one in our organization has the time! We launch as soon as preparations are complete. I suggest you familiarize yourself with your station.”

Dark Oak was pacing, an unusual action for him. “What is taking him so long?!” he growled. “Where’s the Survival board?!”

“Sir,” called a Trooper-class Metarex, “the teleport pod’s been activated.”

“Who’s coming through?” asked Red Pine.

“It’s Tower,” explained the Trooper.

“What’s he doing here?” asked Yellow Zelkova.

“We’re about to find out,” replied Dark Oak as Tower materialized, still sporting electric burns.

“I’m sorry, my friends,” he mumbled. “My headstrong daughter betrayed me. She has convinced the majority of MECH to join her to stop you. There aren’t enough survivors to colonize a world.”

“Oh dear,” sighed Dark Oak. He sat down and stroked his armrest. “Scarship, you’ve lost your target practice.”

“Oh well,” replied Scarship. Tower heard the exchange. Red Pine decided to elaborate.

“The instant your Survival board reached orbit,” he explained, “your survivors would have been vaporized. Perhaps your daughter had the right idea.”

“…But…but…you promised…” stammered Tower.

“There was no world for you!” replied Black Narcissus.

“Verum Terrae, indeed!” mocked Pale Bayleaf. “We only needed you to test the colony spores’ toxicity to all manner of non-Metarex life!”

“But…but I did everything you asked me!!” wailed Tower.

“And now, you have served your purpose!” boomed Yellow Zelkova.

“Execute him!” ordered Dark Oak. Tower ran to the teleport pod and vanished, returning to Mobius.

“A coward’s retreat!” growled Yellow Zelkova. “Suitable for that ape!”

“One of those rare instances where I completely agree,” remarked Pale Bayleaf.

“And I,” agreed Black Narcissus.

“And I,” supplied Red Pine.

“A rare moment for the five of us,” chuckled Dark Oak. “Close off all teleport pods to Mobius. Isolate them so they may perish! Launch spore pods!”

The bridge of the Blue Typhoon was rather level, to show that all positions had equal importance. Each chair, even the Captain’s chair, had a set of control panels to allow everyone to contribute to the proper functioning of the ship. There were stations in the back for Cybertronian sized life to contribute as well. Sira, Trema, Natalie, Amy, Sonic, Tails, and Shadow greeted Topaz, Optimus, and Cosmo. Her mood had changed for the better. “I may have been too hasty in the speed of Mobians,” she breathed.

“Since I was the one behind its construction,” replied Tails, “they’ve labelled the ship as independent. I’m in full command with a liaison of my own.”

“Lucky Fox,” praised Optimus. “Who’s your liaison?”

“I am,” called a female Ball Python as she slithered forward. “Agent Lucille Sandi, reporting.”

“All stations, reporting ready,” reported a female Mobian Cheetah in purple witch robes.

“Very good,” replied Tails.

“And in the nick of time too!” called a human male. “The Metarex have launched their spore pods!”

“Red alert!” yelped Tails “Get us into orbit!”

“Autobots, red alert!” called Optimus. “All hands to…!”

“Wait!” interjected Cosmo. “I have an idea to make the whole battle easier! I need Perceptor!”

“I need all hands on deck!” protested Optimus.

“I can halt the spores’ progress!” insisted Cosmo. “Please, let Perceptor and I investigate the MECH base for 30 minutes.”

“…I can only afford at least 20,” sighed Optimus.

“Fine, we’ll get the spores off this planet! I promise!” replied Cosmo.

“Teletraan, spin up a Ground Bridge to the MECH base for Cosmo and Perceptor,” ordered Optimus. The Bridge opened and Cosmo ran into it. After it shut, Optimus released a breath. “Good fortune,” he wished Cosmo.

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