Transformers: The Schism
Episode 2: "Sins of the Father"
Written by Krelaen Matthius Prestwich
Springer sat on the edge of the roof, staring down at the bustling streets far below. It had only been a few weeks since the Decepticon's initial declaration of war. Autobot work crews frantically moved about, trying to build fortifications. Maybe it was the height of the building, the altitude at which Springer was sitting, that made the Autobots look so tiny, like little insects trying to defend themselves from a rampaging beast. Or perhaps the futility of it all was simply beginning to wear on him.
The whole of Iacon's populace had been called to war, everyone from the oldest to the youngest drafted into a war they neither wanted nor knew how to fight. Springer, at the very least, had some rudimentary combat experience, formerly employed as a bodyguard to Autobot transports to the border mining colonies. But he worried about the others. Young ones, barely out of the foundry, given weapons and told to kill their brethren, for reasons they can't fathom. And then there were those who had lost family in this burgeoning conflict. Blurr was one of those.
Arcee and Springer had arrived at Blurr's home, with the intent of trying to comfort the shattered youngling after his brother Chase had been mercilessly slaughtered right in front of him. But nothing Springer said made Blurr feel any better. The old bodyguard, always trying to be hard and stoic in the face of emotional pain, wasn't particularely skilled at helping others grieve. Everything Springer tried to say only seemed to make Blurr more upset, and Arcee eventually snapped at Springer, telling him to leave. And now the Triple-Changer sat here, quiet and alone, while Arcee tried her best to help Blurr move past his mourning.
"I'm sorry about that," began Arcee, her soft voice calling Springer from his thoughts as she walked out of the terrace. "I know you were trying, Springer. You just don't understand. Not everyone can be strong like you can when these things happen."
Springer nodded slowly "I feel terrible for him. I've watched scavenging nomads take down other guards, I've seen quite a few others lost in the past few cycles. I can let that roll off, I guess. But I've never lost family. If my brother was murdered right before me…" Arcee hushed that thought, sitting next to Springer and slipping her arm around him. "Don't worry about it, love. Worrying never helps anyway."
He looked at Arcee, saying "That's what I was telling Blurr, you know." Arcee shook her head, adding "No, you were telling Blurr to suck it up and stop being such a whiney kidlet. Not the same thing. There's a level of sensitivity that isn't there, Springer." Springer shrugged and managed a weak smirk "That's why I keep you around, to deal with the touchy subjects." Arcee quietly chuckled at that.
Springer cradled his chin in his hand, thinking for a moment, then saying to Arcee "You know, something isn't sitting quite right with me. It's something Hot Rod said at Chase's funereal." Arcee nodded "Right, I remember, something about vengeance being the end of us all." Springer looked at her "Right. It just seemed… wrong, coming out of him. Like it was someone else's words. It stuck out and it sort of disturbs me." Arcee shrugged "I don't know what he meant by it, really. Sometimes Hot Rod is just weird that way."
***
Deep within the Decepticon fortress of Darkmount, the High Command was meeting once again. "We need a new strategy," said Straxus "we are making gains against the Autobots, but they have organized quicker than we have anticipated. Apparently they have always had defense plans at the ready in case we were ever to restart the war. "
Shockwave nodded to Straxus "The Autobot Council of Elders. They are immortal, old as Cybertron itself, they likely anticipated our assault and had secret preparations against it. No matter. You are correct, Straxus. We need a new plan."
Dirge spoke next "My forces have cut the supply lines of Iacon. Within a few more cycles, the Autobots' supplies should run dry." Straxus stared at Dirge, making a disapproving sigh as he spoke "Your lack of foresight astounds me, Dirge. You underestimate the Autobots' resolve. They have enough supplies to last them centuries. And so long as they have their Creation Complex, like we have ours, they have limitless supplies of forces. We cannot win this war by attrition alone."
Dirge scowled at Straxus "Do you have a better idea? How dare you speak of my lack of foresight, you ground-bound infantry grunt." Straxus' optics flashed with anger as he stood from the table, staring across at Dirge, speaking in a controlled growl "I am Straxus, an immortal Elder. I served under Megatron himself, I have watched the birth of the Decepticons. I will not permit a youngling like you to slander against me!"
Straxus leapt away from the table, transforming into his alternate form, a massive double-barrelled cannon turret. He lined up Dirge in his sights, but this beginning quarrel was ended suddenly as Shockwave slammed his fist on the table, demanding attention. "I will not tolerate conflict in this chamber. Behave yourselves or I will separate you… from the world of the living!" Dirge and Straxus returned to their seats, an uneasy calm returning.
Shockwave looked at the general of his ground troops "Straxus, you were correct. So long as the Iacon Creation Complex exists, there will always be a new wave of Autobots to oppose us. But without that Complex, the Autobots will have no way to re-populate their forces, for the only Creation Complexes left on Cybertron are Iacon's, Polyhex's, and the Vector Sigma, which has been inactive for eons. Therefore the logical conclusion is to destroy the Iacon Creation Complex."
Straxus jolted in his seat in shock, shouting "That was not my intent! Creation Complexes are precious sources of life, it is impossible to create new ones. When we win the war and Cybertron is one under our domination, losing even one Creation Complex is an irredeemable wound against our plans for conquest." Dirge narrowed his optics while he spoke to Straxus "Your consistent show of sympathy to the Autobots is beginning to make me question your loyalties, Straxus…" Shockwave snapped at Dirge "Be silent! Straxus' point has validity. However, we have little alternative. We need a skilled force to infiltrate Iacon and destroy the Complex. A small squadron of skilled warriors. Dirge, what is the status of Striker Unit Six?"
Dirge smiled at the mention of the young, highly-trained Seeker elite squadron "They are ready for any sort of operation, my lord. Their current roster is composed of two of my own progeny, Hooligan and Slingshot. Skydive and Fireflight, children of Nightflight and Thrust are two others. The final two are Silverbolt and Air Raid, children of Ramjet and Stormcloud. We are proud of our offspring, their ability nearly surpasses their parents." He chuckled, but his chuckling was paused by a snide remark from Straxus "Surpassing you isn't an accomplishment, Dirge, it's a minimum requirement for competence."
Dirge opened his mouth for some kind of reply, but Shockwave interrupted him "Striker Unit Six will depart immediately. Our Intelligence division has found a hole in Iacon's defenses, but this opening will not be present for long. Striker Unit's objective is to infiltrate Iacon, and destroy the Creation Complex." Dirge let Straxus' comments slide, for now, and nodded to Shockwave "Acknowledged."
The Decepticon High Command wasn't aware of an observing shadow, silently watching them and horrified by their plan. Disheartened with the ones they called comrades for so long, this individual was going to stop this plot somehow, someway.
***
Kup sat alone in his private chamber, sipping at a tainted flask of Energon, slowly trying to intoxicate his systems to numb the pain of losing his son. It had been quite some time since Kup lost his bond-mate, the mother of his children, to an accident he forever blamed on Decepticons. And now this, the loss of his eldest son, gunned down without mercy by the Decepticon Sky Commander, Dirge. Kup could only try to subdue his rage with his sadness, replacing anger with depression, but still vowing revenge against Dirge. Somehow, someway, he was going to get Dirge back.
Just then, the communications panel in Kup's room came alive, as the Autobot communications chief, Blaster, spoke up "Kup, you have an incoming message. The source is unknown, but it is entitled "Urgent". Do you want to hear it?" Kup looked up at the panel with apathy "Sure, Blaster, whatever."
A dark voice, obviously hidden behind waves of distortion, began speaking to Kup "The Decepticons have sent a powerful squadron of Seekers into Iacon, using a hole in your defenses. Their objective is to destroy Iacon's Creation Complex. They must be stopped."
Kup squinted in confusion "And why do you tell me this? Why not contact Ultra Magnus, the Autobot commander, and tell him directly? And who are you, anyway?" The voice paused, and then replied "Think of me as a spirit of justice, someone who knows your pain and how to make it right. Among this squad is two of Dirge's sons, Hooligan and Slingshot. What you choose to with this knowledge is your decision." The message ended.
Kup crushed the flask in his hand, spilling white-hot Energon over his clenched fist, as he growled in unspeakable fury. He got up from his seat, grabbing his powerful laser-rifle, and began heading out the door.
Hot Rod, Arcee, Springer and Blurr stood outside the home of Blurr and Kup, saying a few last things to Blurr before they departed. Their meeting was interrupted by Kup, who stormed out the door, a laser rifle in his hands, mumbling something as he passed by. He transformed into his vehicle mode, and took off without so much as a word to the others.
This struck the four younger Autobots as extremely odd, and Blurr was first to transform and go after Kup. Soon after, Springer, Arcee, and Hot Rod followed.
They reached the Creation Complex. In the hallowed halls of this automated factory, life was given to Transformers, as two Cybertronians had their personalities scanned, and merged by the mysterious and arcane technology of the Complex into a new life. The results were often unpredictable, and two siblings from the same parents might be completely different. The existence of these factories were essential, for all Transformers beyond the first generation, the immortal Elders, had an inherent flaw: They were mortal. Lasercores, the neural processors of Transformers, could only be active for roughly a century, before they simply ceased to operate. At creation, every Cybertronian knew their exact natural lifespan, down to the hour. Many of the Decepticons turned this into a morbid holiday, celebrating not only their Creation Day, but their so-called "Death Day" as well.
Actually reaching one's Death Day and ceasing from natural causes was considered a great shame among the Decepticons, and thus many seeked honorable death in battle, and this gave them a resolve not seen in warriors of other planets. The Strikers, children of the most famous living Seekers, were not fully assimilated into this line of thinking.
And there they were, lurking in the shadows, preparing explosives to attach to the Complex's power core. The sentries of the Complex had become lax in their duties following the outbreak of the war, focusing more on external defenses. This allowed not only the Strikers to slip in un-noticed, but also Kup and the following young Autobots to walk right through the front entrance without a second glance.
But Kup knew the Strikers were here. He stood on the high walkway, knowing that the Strikers were all around him. He didn't care. He locked and loaded his weapon, shouting aloud to the shadowy warriors for them to show themselves. Just as he did so, Blurr finally caught up to his father, and dived at him, his tackle saving Kup from a fury of laser-blasts as the Strikers swooped down from the steel rafters. Springer, Arcee and Hot Rod fired up at them, wounding a few and sending them crashing down to the ground.
Kup kicked Blurr off him, reprimanding him harshly for even coming. He fired a few blasts into the air, trying to hit the circling Strikers. He hit one, one he recognized: Hooligan. Dirge's eldest child came crashing into a higher walkway, sliding and bouncing to the very brink, grabbing the edge before he nearly slipped off completey. Below him was a pool of molten metal, used in part of the creation process, something sure to spell doom if he fell into it. He called out to his brethren, but they were distracted by the combined forces of the four younger Autobots and approaching sentries, who began showing up once the firing started.
Hooligan called out for help again. The blasts had wounded him heavily, his anti-gravity flight module was damaged beyond operation and he could not transform. His grip was slipping. Again he called for help, for anyone to save him. He looked up, and saw Kup standing over him.
The glow of the pool underlit Kup's face, his features laced with darkness and shadows. Hooligan stared into those cold, blue optics, so filled with hate and anger, and called to Kup "You… you're an Autobot! You have to help me, you must give me mercy, it is your creed to do so! Please! I… I am slipping!"
Kup paused for a moment to regard the look of sheer terror in Hooligan's optics. This young child, close in age to his own son Chase, was pleading for his life. He was not fully indoctrinated into the Decepticon's suicidal dogma. But then another image filled Kup's mind. The image of his eldest son, torn asunder by gun-fire, bleeding Energon on the ground, slaughtered like an animal, by this child's progenitor, by the hated Dirge.
Kup aimed his rifle down at Hooligan, as Hooligan screamed to him "What… what are you doing?! Help me! Please!" Kup hesitated again, but then the memories of his dead son filled him with rage. He spoke one quiet sentence barely audible to Hooligan "The sins of the father… shall be visited upon the son…" He fired.
Hooligan's body plummeted down into the smelting pool, the child letting out screams of agony and torment as his body seared apart in the molten steel. Kup stood and watched, guilt or remorse blocked by unyielding animosity. He turned from the gruesome scene, now wishing to double the vengeance against Dirge by claiming the life of his other son. But when he looked, the Strikers had all been defeated and apprehended, and were being loaded into a transport by Iacon guards, likely to be taken for trial.
Kup saw his opportunity for further vengeance die. He knew it would be impossible now to destroy Dirge's other child. They had been apprehended, and the Autobot Tribune never enforced the death penalty, instead putting Lasercores in stasis indefinitely.
But Kup's merciless execution of Hooligan had been witnessed by all, including his own son Blurr. No-one spoke a word to Kup, because they truly did not know what to say. Springer suddenly remembered Hot Rod's words from much earlier, when he spoke of vengeance. And this thought made him shudder.
