Disclaimers: I do not own Transformers. Hasbro probably does.
Mission 1: Two and a Half Bots
Lockdown could feel the shift in power turn against him. With the Decepticon leader in captivity and most of his generals in stasis lock, the Autobots would most likely be focusing all their attention on capturing the rest of his faction, or at least make it hard for him to operate as a mercenary slash bounty hunter. Not only that, but most of his high paying clientele were also in the Autobot's hands, and this did not sit well with him.
So he concocted a plan.
Every history of civilizations dictate that we all profit the most from war, and war is what he needed if he wanted to continue getting paid and scrap his bounties of their most prized upgrades, which is why he set up a meeting with another bot who stood to lose a lot of profit from the recent turn of events.
"Hello Swindle."
The black muscle car whirred into life and caught the light brown SUV off guard, causing it to jump back further into the alley.
"What do you think you're doing?" hollered the war merchant. The slick muscle car unfolded before him like a mechanical flower, blossoming into the infamous bounty hunter. He held out a single finger towards his steel lips, gesturing him to keep his voice down.
"Hush, my dear compatriot. The Autobots may be gone for now, but we still need to keep a low profile here."
"Which is why I refused to meet here in the first place!" Swindle whispered angrily.
Lockdown shook his head.
"For now, this is the safest place for a gathering. They wouldn't expect us to be here, in the jurisdiction of our new Autobot heroes. And you seem to be…in distress. I have never seen you like this before…"
Swindle assumed his robot mode and leaned against a street dumpster.
"Well, things haven't been this bad since the Great War. What remains of our great faction is in hiding and nobody is buying a slaggin' weapon! And to think I finally gathered some Elite Guard equipments that I bagged from the Magnus's ship," Swindle recalled bitterly. Then his optics narrowed in suspicion.
"Wait. Did you say…gathering?" he asked.
Lockdown smirked, cocking his chin upwards. Swindle looked up to find a giant techno-organic spider laying in wait above him, dangling by a thread of metallic web.
"So you're the so called 'merchant of death' who's been giving the Autobots so much trouble all those stellar cycles…" hissed the half machine, half organic being.
"And you must be the freak," Swindle spat. The spider shrieked while jumping down, transforming in mid air and pinning Swindle against the pavement.
"How about you try saying that again with your circuits pumped full of organic venom?" she threatened, her spindly legs raised erect before her victim. Then she felt her grip loosen as Lockdown pulled her away from the merchant.
"We're not here to fight each other," he reminded them. "For once, we must stand together without trying to destroy our own peers."
Swindle scoffed. "We're the Decepticons. We were wired to be that way. Well, save for the freak over there."
"Name is Blackarachnia, you vermin."
"Enough!" Lockdown shouted, losing his cool for a moment. He was suddenly reminded of all the reasons why he worked alone all those cycles.
"Look. We may be wired to be treacherous, but we all stand to gain something out of this."
His two comrades looked at one another, sharing a confused look.
"So you keep saying," said Blackarachnia, breaking her eye contact with Swindle. "But what exactly is it that you want us to do?"
The muscle car hybrid grinned menacingly, as if he was waiting for that very question.
"We break out our brethrens from Cybertron."
They all remained silent for what seemed like a thousand stellar cycles. Then Swindle broke out into a hysterical laughter.
"You've completely lost your processor!" he shouted, his demeanor changing to that of blood red anger. "Of all the things- you want us to just march straight into enemy territory and get slagged ourselves?"
Lockdown shook his head. "I wouldn't propose this without a fool proof plan."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Out with it," the spider hybrid demanded.
The mercenary sighed, then took out two mechanical collars out of his trunk and held them out before them.
"Take these," he said.
"What are they for?" Swindle asked. Lockdown tossed the collars into their hands when they wouldn't take it right away.
"I'm going to take you all into my ship. You must wear those collars as to not trigger the new security measures within it."
His new comrades gave him a skeptical look.
"You expect us to wear something that could potentially be booby trapped?" questioned Swindle. The bounty hunter raised an optic brow.
"What would I do that for?"
"Your usual M.O. is to trick your preys and strip them of their upgrades," the merchant stated, very matter-of-factly. Lockdown gave him a cold stare.
"Your name is Swindle, and Blackarachnia suffers from identity crisis. Spark for spark, I'm the most trust-worthy one here. Now I suggest you wear them if you don't want to become another name in the long list of Decepticon casualties."
Within the hull of the ship, the three newfound comrades gathered in the hold, where Lockdown kept all his prized possessions. But the one that caught their attention was his most recent of acquisitions, which were six Protoform cargos that nestled cozily within the life support chamber that Lockdown built just for them.
"You're…kidding." Blackarachnia whispered in astonishment. "How did you get a hold of them?"
The black-green mercenary smirked.
"Megatron left quite a bit of them on the moon, while he and his cronies were mass producing Omega Supreme. But I could only take a few of them before the Elite goons got there," he answered. "And this is where you come in, Black. I want you to create more techno-organic bots such as yourself and Wasp. We're gonna need some fresh muscles if we're to break into their headquarters."
The spider shuddered noticeably in excitement. Then she caught herself exposed and feigned composure. She coughed and asked the million dollar question.
"Why should I?"
Lockdown didn't miss a beat.
"When we're in Cybertron, we can gather more of these Protoforms for you to experiment with. Doesn't that sound…enticing?"
Blackarachnia quietly gulped.
"You have my full cooperation…for the time being."
Swindle cleared his throat and waved his hands around obnoxiously to get Lockdown's attention.
"Hey, so what's your sales pitch for me?"
Lockdown smiled.
"Imagine what you can do with the war back on schedule and some new equipment lifted from the Autobot stronghold. The things you stole from the Elite Guard ship would pale in comparison."
Swindle involuntarily licked his lips.
"So what can I do?" he asked.
"I'll need you to rig up the new techno-organics-"
"The Predacons," the spider interrupted.
"-the Predacons," Lockdown corrected. "With some weapons, and more importantly, some hardware that'll keep the bots in line…new robots tend to be hard to keep in control, if you know what I mean."
"Loud and clear," the SUV hybrid responded, winking.
"Hold on."
The two male bots turn to face the spider fembot.
"I can't create the Predacons without a new transwarp device."
Lockdown rubbed his lower face plate in contemplation.
"The good Dr. Sumdac probably has one lying about somewhere in his lab. "
The three looked at one another knowingly.
"So our first assignment will be to acquire the transwarp device then," the mercenary announced.
"But it'll have to be a covert operation as to not blow our covers…"
"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Should we not come up with a group name to commemorate our combined efforts?" Swindle shouted, genuinely excited. Blackarachnia shook her head in disgust.
"How childish."
"No, this might actually be a good idea," said Lockdown.
"How's this sound?"
"Dark Stars" an Ihaveabrain Transformers: Animated fanfiction
"…sounds like a bad science fiction movie," Swindle murmured, the excitement suddenly gone from his voice.
To be continued…