Bottles, jars, bowls and all sorts of liquid containers sit peacefully around the small liquor-producing hut. Today, there isn't any brewing to be done. No new concoctions to be created in huge vats. The Rabble Rouser was on a holiday. A slight change in the air occurs. Vibrations ring out in the room ever so delicately. It grows and grows. Soon the glass containers begin to dance in place as tremors in the air begin to increase. They spin and curtsy, unable to control themselves as one by one, they fall to the ground and shatter. Soon the whole room is shaking, vibrating. The floor is now wet with spilled liquids. Everything shakes like never before. The ardent tremors are having a field day. Then, as if the tremors had decided it was too much work, they stopped.
Complete silence.
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!
The hut is no more, its body parts fly helplessly in all directions, landing in the raging ocean below.
There is going to be one particular angry red bearded man.
On the small cliff overlooking the ocean that once housed the small brewery, there is now a fresh, new cave leading deep into the ground. Smoke arises from its mouth; fire lingers at its entrance. Inside the rocky hole, a yellow behemoth lays, exhausted from its intergalactic flight. Its thrusters sigh, emanating smoke, further filling the cave with fumes. Silence occupies the space, only the laughter of small fires can be heard. Then from the beast's belly comes metallic banging. Footsteps, or fists banging on the interior walls, or both. The sounds increase in volume. Then… BOOM!
Sparks fly out as a portion of the ship's belly flies out by force and sticks itself on the wall of the cavern. From within the vessel, light flows out, and dialogue with it.
"Ironhide, it was not necessary to smash a hole in the Ark. We have a door you know."
"Sorry boss. Just got a little claustrophobic."
"It's fine. Now let's check on the others."
Some more metallic sounds vibrate within, and one by one, more voices emerge.
" *yawn* How many times does this make? Four? Five?"
"Quit your yappin' Bumblebee. We're lucky we got out alive…again."
A small skirmish of voices ensues; minor arguments that are a product of a rough awakening.
A strong voice is raised over all the others. The other voices subside, as it begins to speak.
"Alright boys. We need to focus on the task at hand. Send out a scouter to see where and when we landed this time. Until it comes back, all we can do is wait and analyze the damage done to our never know what lies out there. A whole battalion of Decepticons might have landed nearby with us."
The crew nods with silent agreement. Their ship technician walks over to the ship console, which amazingly still works after the violent crash. After a few clicks, the desired result occurs.
A buzzing sound comes from the hole in the ship, and out emerges a small droid. It hovers around and shakes its head a few times, then flies out of the cave, basking in the sun of Runeterra. It mutters small musings to itself with a squeaky electronic voice. Taking in its bearings, the scout proceeds on the land, not knowing where to go exactly, but is intent on finding any answers on this new planet as its masters sit in wait, twiddling their thumbs.
Unbeknownst to the inhabitants of the yellow ship, a similar scene has occurred on the cluster of islands known as the Shadow Isles. On the outermost island, the closest to the mainland, a smoking, purple behemoth lies, resting on its side in the middle of a clearing. Skid marks occupy the rocky land behind it. Purple light glows faintly from the ship, illuminating spiky rocks, twisted black trees and the white, ominous fog that envelops the land.
A hissing sound arises from the hull of the ship, and a segment of the side falls to the ground with a thud. From the new hole in the vessel, giant metallic figures emerge. Their eyes are red, components on their bodies glow different colors, and their voices are as raspy as a bunch of nails on ice.
The ground shakes underneath them with every step they take. Fog around them glows with them as light bounces off the small water particles. The ominous figure in front, the apparent leader, begins to speak.
"You incompetent fools! We had those Autobots in our grasp, and yet they get away?"
He turns on his heel and violently smacks an underling with his massive hand. His victim falls to the ground unconscious, sparks fly out of his damaged head. Another begins to speak.
"Megatron, with all due respect, it was not entirely our fault. The Autobot scum had fired their hyperdrive boosters when the Nemesis had locked onto their ship. We couldn't have done anything to stop us from falling into this planet's orbit."
The leader's red eyes glowed fiercer. He raises his hand, resulting in the cringing of his cohorts, but he lowers it and gives a silent sigh of rage. He knows it wasn't his crew's fault. He is just enraged that the Autobots, the only thing standing in between him and galactic conquest, had escaped his grasp. Again.
"Fine. But we need to make repairs on the Nemesis as soon as we can. Wake the others from stasis. We must scour this hole for any available Energon."
Soon seven mechanical beings are standing outside of the sleeping ship, giving off light that blends with their ship's. Megatron stomps his foot, sending a tremor on the cracked, rocky ground. The whole crew turns their attention to their leader. Inside, Megatron grins.
"Decepticons, we have crashed onto a foreign planet along with the Autobots. The Nemesis has taken minimal damage, but our Energon supply is extremely low. Go and find more energy sources, or you will find yourself facedown, circuits filled with this soft, disgusting substance…," He picks up a rock and crushes it, then grinds it between his fingers, reducing it to a pile of dust. "…stuck forever on this desolate wasteland."
The Decepticons know the drill. They knew that their leader was serious. He always was. One by one, they morph into speedy vehicles. All but Megatron and his trusty right-hand man Soundwave scurry in all directions to search for available resources, leaving trails in the air and on the ground in their wake. Alone with the only colleague he trusts, Megatron speaks, this time his voice is without malice or anger. Only the noble tone of a leader.
"How is the situation really?"
Soundwave looks at him and his red visor gleams for a few seconds. His monotone voice begins to speak.
"Conditions are favorable. Minimal damage to the hull and main deck of the Nemesis must be repaired; a simple task. But without Energon, we are helpless. That is the only resource that can get us off of this foreign planet."
Megatron nods.
"Do you think we will find any resources here?"
"It is highly unlikely we will find mineral sources here on this island but-"
"Stop! Island? You mean the whole planet isn't like this revolting desert?"
"Yes. We have landed on a small, uninhabited chain of land that lies close to the mainland. Sensors onboard the Nemesis indicates strong Energon sources located there."
"I see. We will just have to wait for those fools to return from their pointless chase. But, what kind of lifeforms occupy this rock? Our firepower may be great, but it is still limited."
"Miniscule fleshlings sire. Much like the ones we encountered on the planet of Osmosk. But we must still be cautious. I am unaware of how advanced they are as a civilization. We must send a scouter first."
"Yes, that is excellent. Just watch Soundwave. Soon the Autobots will be nothing but a pile of rusting metal." Megatron's grin is enough to send shivers down any spine brave enough to look at him.
Little did they know of the stray Decepticon hiding in the shadows behind them. He smiles as he thinks of the opportunity that awaits on this "mainland". If only he could get there and gorge himself on the raw power that lies untouched. All he needs is a heading.
Quietly entering the Nemesis, making his way towards the control deck, he finds an operating computer and finds out quickly of the planet's geography. His right hand placed on a yellow portion of the console, he installs the information into his memory systems. His eyes glow a bright red asimages of him standing in victory over his slain master flash through his mind. Many times has he, Starscream, dreamt of this image. Now on this seemingly weak fleshling planet, he might just fulfill it.
I will show him. I will show all of them. I will show everyone who the true leader of the Decepticons are.
With his Spark full of confidence, the rogue stealthily egresses the vessel, careful not to catch the attention of the two sentinels standing outside. He makes it to a clearing, and with a running start transforms into an agile alien aircraft. Within seconds he is making his way over the blue ocean to the mainland of Valoran.