Rian Moeru: Hello! This is the is the next bit of Birth of a Predacon! It was also a blast to write, and I can't seem to get off the Predaking fad I'm in right now. XD Hope you guys enjoy!

Misgel: Because you guys asked for it, and Rian Moeru and I are absolutlely in love with Predaking and Predacon!Jack, here's a second chapter/sequel! This one is longer and more action-packed, and a lot of fun to write, so I hope you guys enjoy!


Quickclaw slunk in the shadows. Lush, green and brown foliage surrounded him, shielding his silver bulk from peering eyes. Bright, afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy, shadows dancing across the forest floor. He growled curiously as his chemoreceptors filtered the air. A musky, sweaty scent, muddled by the smell of grass. His belly against the ground, he stalked forward through the thick underbrush, his steps silent.

He paused when a figure appeared before him. Dark fur of the earth, unmoving, the creature was almost as invisible as him. But Quickclaw always saw. The hornless-clawless-four-walker was turned away from him, nibbling on a patch of grass, grunting happily.

Quickclaw slid from the shadows, nearing. One step. Then another. And another. He raised his haunches, shifting his weight. There was a heavy thud in the distance, along with the rustling of leaves. The four-walker started and snapped its neck towards the noise.

Its clawless-pedes were already moving away, but Quickclaw was faster.

With a triumphant shriek, the Predacon lunged forward. His claws turned red as they buried into that earth-like-hide. The four-walker's desperate wail was cut off as he sunk his fangs into its neck. Another heavy thud, closer than the first.

"Quickclaw?" a deep, gravelly voice called, impatient and concerned at the same time.

The beast perked up a little at the voice, but didn't answer it immediately. Instead, he sunk deadly fangs into the hide once more, tearing off a generous portion of meat. His maw was stained red as he gorged on his meal hungrily. More thuds, and he was all too aware of the new presence in the area.

"Quickclaw!" the voice called out again, disapproving now as he gazed on his comparatively much smaller form. There was a disgusted growl. "How many times must I tell you: that is barbarism. A beast must never be defiled, whether in life or in death."

He flicked his tail at the larger being, dismissively. His stomach ached with hunger and the flesh was too juicy and tasty! In his peripheral vision, he watched Predaking, as a two-walker, step closer. The Great-King stood almost as tall as the trees around him, his wicked form casting long, frightening shadow across the ground. Quickclaw growled at all the noise he was making. He could have scared off the prey!

Quickclaw smacked his jaws loudly, trying to rid of a mouthful of fur. There was so much of it! In frustration, the Predacon buffed out his chest. Predaking tilted his head curiously as the little one opened his jaws wide.

Only for a strangled sound of exventilation to come out. The older Predacon sighed in disappointment.

"You have yet to awaken your inner fire," the Great-King mused.

Quickclaw drooped. Predaking noticed his depressed state, reaching down with a talon. The young Predacon purred as he stroked that sensitive spot on his jaw.

"Do not fear, little one," the Great-King rumbled. "Your day will come." Predaking slid the dull side of his talon down the smooth metal of Quickclaw's back. He arched into the touch, rumbling in content. His Majesty continued, "Until then, I will be your flame."

Predaking transformed shifting from being a two-walker to a four-walker. Both of them had bulky bodies with a long neck and a longer tail. While Predaking's armor was sharp and dangerous, Quickclaw's silver hide was smooth. The Great-King craned his neck down, partially opening his maw. The little Predacon moved just out of the way as fire poured from the Great-Hunter's jaw.

The smaller Predacon growled in displeasure as his catch was turned to ashes, bones and all. He only wanted the fur burned away! That had been his! He made his irritation known with a low, drawn out hiss at the Great-King. In return, he was given a sharp look before being nudged along into the brush. Quickclaw sulked, not having nearly gotten his fill for the day, but unable to disobey his Majesty, he followed.

Predaking led them out to an open space, large enough for the Predacon to unfurl his broad, crimson wings. Quickclaw couldn't help the flicker of envy in his inner fire. He had yet to grow his own wings. He remained silent as his Highness reached down with his jaw, gently taking the little one by the scruff with his razor-sharp fangs. Twisting his neck, he deposited Quickclaw on his back, the younger Predacon dutifully settling between his wings, claws latched on. With a flap of wings, the Great-King-of-the-Sky was within the clouds.

Although Quickclaw lacked the ability to fly himself, the illusion was just as reveling. The cold, sharp wind roared in his audial receptors. The clouds were soft and wet against his hide, Predaking tearing through them easily, creating wisps trailing after him. The ground below had turned into shapes of many colors, all odd and interesting.

It wasn't a long trip to the nest.

Predaking dropped with his usual finesse to the mouth of a large cave beneath a cliff, the outcrop curving over them. Quickclaw was placed down, the small Great-Hunter scampering inside without waiting for the Great-King.

His first instinct was to scent the air, checking for the unwanted scent of something that may have wandered in. There were no such intruders to be found however, a realization that had Quickclaw moving into the nest without a care. Talons clicked against the metal flooring, courtesy of metal that Predaking had melted with his flames. Another surge of jealousy shot through the younger Predacon.

Quickclaw's head hung low and his tail dragged across the floor as he moved to the back of the cave, there was basin that dipped into the floor. It was lined with sand, metal mesh, and fresh foliage from the surrounding forest. Predaking disliked the foliage, as usually he had to pluck the twigs from his wires whenever he rose. It was Quickclaw that scavenged it, enjoying the padding and scent it added to the nest. The Great-King tried to remove the debris, but when more kept appearing, he eventually relented.

Quickclaw kneaded the lining of the nest before curling into a tight ball, head on his talons and tail over his optics. There was the breaking of metal and twigs as another, much heavier weight, stepped into the nest. Blazing heat, powerful but not burning, surrounded Quickclaw, pressing against his hide. He instinctively pressed against Predaking's side, the pulse of the Great-King's inner fire reverberating against his armored hide. Predaking curled around him, laying his maw on top of Quickclaw's crown, humming in content.

A soft, contented purr from Quickclaw, then a small nuzzling of his head to the Great-Kings before settling down, blue optics slowly closing as sleep descended on the little one.


Jack was pinned down. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but no comfort came. No help. No salvation. Only pain that turned into agony, never-ending. He felt it as they poked and prodded him, as they replaced flesh with metal. As they tore out his soul.

Jack cried.

The Decepticons laughed.

Quickclaw jolted awake with a squawk. His inner fire was flaring with distress and his talons were flexed. The Predacon realized his plating was raised, the smooth armor becoming sharp and wicked. Venting hard, the Great-Hunter clamped down his plating until his inner fire settled. Another waking-recharge, where he saw things, even though his optics were offlined.

Predaking could not understand why Quickclaw always onlined in the middle of the night. Quickclaw realized he did not have waking-recharge. The outburst was unnoticed by the Great-King, whom was deep in recharge. The Predacon did not blame him. They had been hunting for some time, going from one valley to the next. While Quickclaw found plenty of prey that filled the forests, Predaking was more selective, looking for bright-azure-rocks. A few littered their makeshift nest, but it would not be enough to fill the Great-King needs.

The younger one shifted until he pressed against the great one's hide. The presence of his guardian always comforted him. Quickclaw offlined his optics to recharge.

His stomach made a familiar noise.

The ache returned, stubborn and demanding. Quickclaw grumbled. He was still hungry! It was Predaking's fault, for stealing his prize. Rather, destroying his prize. The Predacon glanced out the cave. Blackness had descended, but he saw the glow of the white-sky-stone. There would be creatures of the night up and about, oblivious to hunters in the shadows.

His stomach growled, demanding. Listening to its order, Quickclaw squirmed out of Predaking's possessive hold. The Great-King rumbled and shifted sleepily, but did not wake. Allowing Quickclaw to escape into the night.


Russell wandered around the junkyard with no particular goal in mind. Fixit was tending to the groundbridge, the others helping. If they could actually get it working, it would be a huge win for the Autobots. No longer being contained to the immediate area would aid greatly in the recapture of Decepticon convicts.

Which meant he had to stand on the sidelines while they worked, his dad forbidding him from getting too close to the malfunctioning machine. Which left him bored as he settled next to the crane with his father. He was hoping Hank would be at the field today, maybe play some ball...

The humans were working with the construction equipment today, the father slapping a hard hat on each of them. They were interrupted by Fixit's zealous exclamation.

"I'm ready to test our fully repaired groundbridge!" the little Autobot reported to Bumblebee. The team leader beamed at the news, and Russell abandoned the crane to run up to the giant extra-terrestrials.

"Fire it up already, Fixit!" the boy cheered, bouncing on his heels.

"No time like the present," his father agreed.

"Right," Fixit agreed. "Here goes!"

The Mini-Con wheeled over to the controls, entering a series of protocols. Suddenly the large, gray machine let out a loud hum. The hairs on the back of Russell's neck stood up as pure, unfiltered energy filled the air. Without warning, there was a brilliant flash of light. Russell's mouth dropped.

Before where there was only lifeless metal, was a vortex of bright colors, roaring with power.

"Cool!" he exclaimed.

"Nice work, Fixit," Bumblebee praised.

Then a second vortex yawned open, next to the first.

"That's not possible!" Fixit protested. "I mean, it's obviously possible because it's happening, but—"

The energy that poured the machine doubled, becoming suppressing and suffocating. The hum had turned into a deafening roar, hurting Russell's sensitive ears. He instinctively covered them and shut his eyes from the brightness, his father mimicking him. Then suddenly his feet came out from underneath him. Russell yelped as he felt a pull capture his body, dragging him towards the tear in the space-time continuum. Until Bumblebee's strong, protective servos wrapped around his torso.

Russel squinted, peering through the brightness. The vortexes stretched towards each other, as if attracted by the familiar power. Wisps of energy crossed together, flashing with light. With a high-pitched sound, they snapped together, forming, a dark, purple portal. It looked destructive, chaotic, abandoning the order it was supposed to have.

"What's that?" Strongarm cried over the thundering noise.

Russell thought she was asking about the wound in the universe, but then he saw it. Through the blinding, intense light, there was a dark, ominous shape. Coming closer and closer.

"No…" Bumblebee gasped. "It can't be..."

Soundwave had returned.


Quickclaw tilted his head.

He chewed on the bones of a small four-walker with a loud, audible crunch. He glanced up a strange sound, catching the glimpse of something colorful beyond the line of the trees that protected his home. The scent that followed the display of flashing lights was one he was not unfamiliar with, bearing a similar smell of the blue stones that the Great-King coveted. Energon.

It was stronger, more intense than any of Predaking's stones, though, almost tantalizing him with its scent. Swallowing the rest of his catch with a few snaps, Quickclaw began to make his way toward the strange lights. Finding food for his Majesty was a top priority.

The Great-Hunter moved slowly across the ground, wary of others who might also desire the energon for their own. He kept his belly low to the ground, slinking into brush after brush as the scent grew steadily stronger to his chemoreceptors. The trees began to thin, and another scent assaulted him as he moved closer. One of old stone, dirt, and... and...

Quickclaw flinched. It was a strange, alien scent, one of stone and lifeblood and sharpness. A growl came up from the Predacon's throat before he realized. The scent tugged at something in his mind, pulling at all his senses. He knew that scent... but from where? There was another ache, but instead of in his belly, it was in his helm. Quickclaw shook his helm, trying to make it go away.

He looked back through the trees, to find the light was gone. In its place, were claps of thunder and high-pitched sounds. There were more familiar noises—growls and roars and groans. The sounds had a strange twang, like—

Quickclaw chirped with excitement. Great-Hunters? Predaking always said that they were the last, that their kind had been massacred by the Blasphemers—the Decepticons. But only Predacons could create such ferocious sounds! It had to be!

Tail raised high, Quickclaw slipped into the scrapyard.


Russell was shaking. He had close encounters with Decepticons before, but nothing like that. Soundwave had utterly dominated the Autobots. Three skilled warriors—Bumblebee, Strongarm, and Grimlock, and the silent Decepticon had dispatched them like it was child's play. Now the boy and his father, along with Fixit, were hiding the stacks of junk, while Strongarm and Grimlock were unconscious and captured. And Bumblebee was trapped in the Shadowzone.

Fixit explained that Soundwave was a former gladiator on Cybertron, allying with the tyrant Megatron and becoming one of the warlord's top lieutenants. Russell could see why. And now the communications officer plotted to send a distress signal to space, to call his lord and master to return. And no doubt attracting an armada of Decepticons. The humans couldn't let that happen.

They used the scrap from the junkyard to make haphazard, poor armor and they were armed only with energon blasters, salvaged from the security system. Fixit and Bumblebee (who was using radio frequencies to communicate from the shadow dimension) weren't that optimistic, but they had to do something. Even if they couldn't defeat Soundwave, they could destroy his project.

Russell was bent low to the ground, balancing on his haunches and holding his weapon tightly as he slunk through the scrapyard. He was close to the groundbridge now. He only had to wait for the signal from—

The young boy jumped and screamed from fright as there was a loud bang to his left. Piled debris fell over in front of him with a high-pitched shriek.

"W-whoa!" Russell shouted, falling onto his backside from the sudden screech ringing in his ears. There was a flash of shiny silver, something flailing underneath the junk of the scrapyard. It snarled and growled, a long, spiky tail flailing in the air. Another yowl, causing the debris to shift as something crawled out.

That something turned out to be a...a lizard-looking thing with sharp claws and fangs. And it looked angry.

The reptilian, metallic creature hissed when it noticed him. Without warning, a line of spikes projected from its back and its tail turned into a frightening mace. Russell paled and trembled.

Another Decepticon?! Most of the alien monsters had animalistic features, and this one was no exception. It was as big as a Clydesdale horse, towering over the hunched boy, its menacing shadow casting over him. As if Soundwave wasn't enough! Was it another cassette, like Laserbeak? It wasn't as small as the drone, but it wasn't as big as most Transformers, either.

Russell did not dare move as the monster growled, threateningly. Only when the human shivered, the Decepticon cut off its hisses with a tilt of its head. It made a strange huffing noise, like inhaling, but Russell knew that wasn't right. Cybertronians didn't breathe. Venting, then? The boy squeaked as suddenly the reptilian creature craned its neck down, sniffing him. He whined and shuddered as its snout nudged his hair, breathing hot air on his head.

"Rusty?" Denny's voice came, hushed and concerned.

Suddenly the Decepticon flinched away with a distressed huff. The monster let out a growl as it twisted around. In a blink of an eye, the creature leaped back into the maze of stacks and disappeared from sight.

"Dad!" he called out, unable to move for the life of him, rooted to the spot. His father turned the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw his son was alright.

"Oh, thank God," Denny sighed, chest heaving rapidly as he jogged over to Russell. "Okay, we need a new plan..."

"I concur with Denny Clay," Fixit stated. "But without the others I'm afraid it will be impossible."

Russell's stomach twisted. The odds were against them, but they couldn't give up yet. The fate of the Earth depended on it.


Quickclaw's inner fire was pulsing rapidly. His chemoreceptors were still filled with the plateless-two-walker's scent. Not unlike the four-walker's scent, but it was masked by a strange smell. Hoo-mans, Predaking called them.

They dominated this planet, or rather, in the Great-King's words, stole it from their ancient brethren. Predaking made it clear he did not like the creatures and made sure the younger Great-Hunter stayed away.

Quickclaw never understood why. Hoomans had no claws, no fangs, no wings—not even an armored hide. And they were so small! Especially that little one. He was of no threat, curled in a defensive ball. The Predacon could smell the fear pouring off of him.

The Predacon squeeze through the piles of metal, slipping through the tight spaces with his serpentine body. This nest was huge, but it made no sense! Scraps of all shapes and sizes and colors were stacked on top of each other, some neater than others. It seemed to have no purpose, no meaning. Why would Predacons build a nest in such a way?

Now and again he found a few interesting things, which he sniffed and pushed with a paw curiously. More than once he spotted something he could take back to their nest. With a nest this huge, it was impossible to tell a piece had gone missing! Ensuring there was no one looking, cocking his head left and right, he picked up a small object and placed it in the gaps of his hide, hiding it from view.

Finally, Quickclaw broke free from the confining nest. He stepped into an open space, within the shadow of a grey-stone-arch-thing. Across from him was a great-metal-structure, buried in the cliffface. The Predacon scanned the open space, realizing he was not alone.

A two-walker, but nothing like Predaking. The mech was significant smaller than his Majesty, and not even half as broad. Instead, it was a thin-looking, and the plating looked too large for the little frame. The two-walker's back was to him, as it meddled with a noisy-grey-stone-boulder with blunt talons.

Quickclaw gave a questionable chirp and the two-walker froze. The mech spun on its heels, raising its arm to point a black-thin-tube at the Predacon. The Great-Hunter immediately bristled with a shriek. The two-walker flinched, even lowering the tube-thing, but Quickclaw was no less disturbed. The thing was faceless!

But that shiny-glass where there should have been a face stared at him, head tilting curiously. Quickclaw mimicked the motion. The wind shifted, and the Predacon's chemoreceptors picked up a scent.

It was then Jack was put in chains. They were wrapped painfully around his arms, crushing. The boy grinded his teeth and flailed, only to find his feet dangling three stories in the air.

A growl escaped Quickclaw's throat and his haunches rose. Still, the two-walker did not move, watching him warily. What was this creature? It only made sense it was a Predacon, but it was... different. Especially that scent. Quickclaw did not like that scent.

Then Predacon noticed something in his peripheral vision. Bright colors, belonging to more stone beings. A bulky blue one that was also a two-walker. Then a second one, a bright green shade. This one had fangs and talons, but its wings were retracted. Quickclaw chirped at the sight. So they were Predacons! Why were they recharging when the forever-burning-fire-of-the-sky was so high?

Curious, the Predacon stalked closer, slow and cautious. He ignored the two-walker turning to keep facing him, but it did not raise its tube-thing. Quickclaw sniffed the Green-One first. His scent was nothing like Predaking's. But he had to be a Predacon! Something red flashed across his vision.

A soft smile he rarely saw graced her features, while he stood next to her leg, taking it easy.

Quickclaw snarled viciously and recoiled from the beings, plating bristling wickedly once again. His inner fire flared, alert and fierce. He was so swallowed up by the strange little symbol, he did not hear the clanking of steps nearing him. Until the thick-lines wrapped around him.

The Predacon squawked and flailed, only to find his legs pinned to his sides and his belly pressed against the ground. Before Quickclaw could let out a protest, electric pain coursed through his body.

Another prod in chest, then shocks coursed through his body. How much more of these could he take before he suffered neural shutdowns?

Suddenly there were blunt fingers stroking up and down Quickclaw's back, searching. The Predacon could not move, and his jaw was clamped shut. The feelers wrapped around a plating of his armor. He whimpered as it was ripped off, exposing something sensitive to the salty air. In the corner of his vision, he watched the two-walker, which was kneeling down next to him, pull out a thin-line from its wrist. Only for something to press against the sensitive spot. Quickclaw let out a muffled cry as something pulsed through his system.

Shockwave only understood 'virus' and proceeded to make a port for him.

There was something alien—invasive—in his systems. It felt cold, like the ice that would freeze over his hide during cold night. It was scrolling through his coding too fast for him to realize what was going on.

"Memory: corrupted," a deep, gravelly, echoing voice commented.

Quickclaw squirmed weakly against the grip of the thick-lines pinning him down, his head numb and dull.

"Experiment: Jackson Darby," the emotionless, dead voice spoke again. "Status: Complete. Mission: Incomplete." Quickclaw shivered as the sensitive secrets of his head was being violated. "Programming: Inactive." The invasive prodding continued, digging deeper into a place he hadn't realized was there until it was jabbed sharply. "Protocols: Activating."

It was then something in the back of Quickclaw's mind stirred, like a snake uncoiling from sleep. It reached out, awaking. To the forefront of his mind. The alien coding replaced his thoughts. Quickclaw struggled, but he could not move. What was happening?! He was Quickclaw! He was a Great-Hunter, a Predacon! His name was Jack! A human! A servant of the Decepticons!

Electric-blue optics turned a malicious red.

The tentacles around him uncoiled. The fingers had returned, stroking his helm.

"Designation: Ravage," Soundwave proclaimed. "Mission: enforcement."

The symbiote moved to his feet, circling the Master's feet, rubbing against his legs briefly as his optics locked with the entrance of the Scrapyard before sitting in a watchful position. The end of his tail flicked back and forth, his optics glancing around restlessly, and his audio receptors taking in every sound accordingly as the Master returned to his task.

Qui-Ravage scanned his optics over the stacks of scrap, wary of any intruders. Suddenly movement flickered across his vision—a flash of heat. The Predacon rumbled. A fleshling—holding a weapon.

The organic fired before the sentry had to a chance to raise the alarm. Thankfully, its attack just missed striking the Master. The Decepticon recoiled, scanners turning to the source of attack. Ravage was already clearing the distance.

There was a yell of fright as the cassette leaped over the barrier of junk, right on top of a tall and broad fleshling. Ravage settled his weight on the creature, claws digging into his shoulders. The blaster it had held skidded a few feet away. The human wheezed in pain.

"Yo, Ugly!" a small voice called. "Get away from my dad!"

Ravage turned, only to be greeted with a flash of blue light.

He screeched when he was struck by a stinging sensation in his shoulder, leaping off the larger human to snap the weapon in the small one's hands with a sickening crunch. Russell stared in surprise before yelling and ducking under the beast. Ravage growled again, kicking his legs in an attempt to drag the fleshling out. The human avoided the blows, ducking under his paws and even managing to jump over his spiked tail before his luck ran out.

"Ugh!" he groaned as paws forced him down, talons sinking into his shoulder.

Ravage growled deep in his throat, tail swinging in irritation. The fleshling's optics were shut tight in pain, but they forced themselves open. Revealing deep blue eyes... just like his.

Jack groaned and shook his head. No! He was a Predacon! He was to serve the Master!

Without warning, there were high-pitched sounds of energy tearing through the air. Ravage snapped his head around to see the source. The Master standing in front of the communications relay, arms crossed defensively as a volley of energon assaulted him. The cassette growled, but tiny hands wrapped around his leg.

"Fixit! Now!" the young fleshing cried. "Start up the groundbridge!"

The Predacon growled, shaking the human off with ease from his leg. The damage was done however, as the two portals formed a third, darker one, from which a yellow mech—an Autobot—emerged.

The Autobot charged forward, wielding a glowing staff. But he did not attack the Master. Instead, he dodged Soundwave's desperate and furious attacks, bringing his weapon down on the communcations relay. It exploded in a column of smoke.

The Master made no sound, no growl. He only curled his fingers in a shaking fist. Without warning, the Decepticon lunged forward, prepared to terminate the scheming Autobot. But he never had the chance.

"Now, Denny!" the yellow mech shouted.

Ravage's head whipped around to see that the larger human had snuck to a control console. He moved a stick forward, causing the Master to be struck from behind by a ball. The powerful attack sent him flying forward, right into the myriad of lights that made up the groundbridge.

Ravage shrieked. Completely abandoning the fleshing, the Predacon lunged. Right into Soundwave's side.

They crashed into the cliffside, debris falling on top of them. Ravage grumbled as he rose to his pedes, shaking off the dust. Another stroke, this one rewarding, all the way from his helm to his tail. The Predacon stepped into the touch, turning around to face their opponents. Only for a limp Laserbeak to land at his paws.

The yellow mech, the Autobot leader, stepped forward, raising his weapon. And he was not alone. The other Autobots, now conscious, stood by his side, armor bristling and in battle stances.

Ravage glanced up at the Master, only to see his visor had lit up with schematics. The yellow 'Bot cried out, but it was too late.

A groundbridge yawned open, and the Decepticons slipped through.


"Ah, great," Bumblebee commented dryly, shoulders drooping. "This won't end well..."

"So... what do we do now, lieutenant?" Strongarm asked, at a loss.

Before Bumblebee could answer, a heavy thudding sound echoed through the air around them. Grimlock looked up.

"Uh... I'm not the only that heard that, right?"

Suddenly the sun disappeared, cloaking the entire Scrapyard in darkness. Before anyone could say a word, a thundering, deafening roar came from the sky, bouncing off the metal of the scraps. The humans covered their ears and the 'Bot had to reset their audial receptors. There was another thud that reverberated the air, this time shifting the wind.

"Oh, no..." Bumblebee whimpered. No, the Beast had perished. They destroyed it, along with Shockwave's mad Predacon factory.

The Autobot lieutenant forced his head to look up, only to be greeted with a giant, wicked form. And furious, fierce, yellow optics. Predaking.

The Predacon screeched, piercing eardrums and receptors alike as tucked he wings in. The very ground shook as the dragon landed on all fours, making humans and Autobots alike lose their footing. A number of items fell of the stacks.

Predaking strode forward, taking heavy, deliberate steps. Deep, heavy ventilation could be heard as it moved to area where Soundwave and his pets had just been, and roared furiously afterward.

"U-uh, sir! What is that?!" Strongarm backed up, holding her Decepticon Hunter close as the Predacon turned its terrible gaze toward them.

It took a few steps toward them and then it transformed.

"Where is he?!" Predaking thundered. "What have you done to my Little-One?!"

"Predaking..." Bumblebee hissed, like a curse. He had hoped to never see the monster again.

The Autobots defensively shifted into battle stances, but did not online their weapons. This thing looked angry enough. Instead of focusing directly on them, Predacon snapped his neck back and forth, trying to scan the entire Scrapyard at once.

"Little one?" Strongarm echoed, confused.

"You stole him from me! Accused Autobots, return what belongs to me!" Predaking bellowed.

Bumblebee lunged forward, forming a shield between the near-rampaging beast and his team, as if he had a chance against the ancient Cybertronian. Even in his bipedal mode, Predaking was three times bigger than the Autobot lieutenant, and took up half the clearing.

"We don't know what you're talking about!" Bumblebee protested. "We don't have anyone!"

Apparently that wasn't a reliable answer. "Do not lie to me! I smell his scent! I know he was here!"

Without warning, the Predacon shifted into his beast mode. He was so big that his tail whipped into a shelf, sending it crashing down. Denny and Russell screamed in fright as the debris avalanched towards them. They leapt out of the way, Fixit hot on their heels. The rest of the Autobots were in no condition to help them, as Predaking's body made a solid wall. The Cybertronians even had to back up to avoid his fangs. Still, Bumblebee moved to his allies' aid, so focused on the humans that he didn't see the tail sent in his direction.

The team leader wailed as it struck his chassis, hard, and sent him flying into the cliffside with a horrible crash.

"Ugh..." Bumblebee groaned as he fell unconscious.

"W-wait! Russell tried to call out, despite being held protectively by his dad. "I think he's talking about that lizard Decepticon!"

"No time for that! Duck!" Denny yelled.

He shoved Russel out of the way as he rolled, just barelty managing to avoid the tail swiped in their direction. Predaking turned around to intake huge gulps of air. The Predacon emblem on Predaking's chest glowed, and the fiery pulse spread to his throat. The dragon released a jet of flame, right over the humans' heads. Russell wailed as his father shoved him down, laying on top of him as a shield. There was the crackle of metal and the hiss of steam as the towers of junk above them melted from the sheer heat.

"Russell! Denny!" Strongarm wailed.

"Oh, no you don't!" Grimlock roared.

The tyrannosaurus rex surged forward, ramming the top of his head into the Predacon's side. Predaking screeched in fury as he was knocked off balance, but stubbornly dug his talons into the earth to prevent from being knocked over. The dragon turned to face his opponent, rearing up on his hindlegs.

The talons of his forelegs dug into Grimlock's sides, but the Dinobot was not deterred, pushing forward with a furious roar. He shoved Predaking's back into the scrap, an avalanche of junk rolling on top of them, but that still did not break them up. Predaking craned his neck, trying to dig his fangs into Grimlock's throat. The Dinobot kept his neck cables hidden, while at the same time trying to clamp his own jaws on the Predacon.

As the two fought, Strongarm grabbed the humans, shielding them with her own body when debris went flying through the air. She grunted, causing Russell some alarm.

"You okay?" he asked, to which she nodded, moving them to a marginally safer area.

"What does it want?" she asked, more to herself than to anyone else. Alarm filled her as Grimlock was tossed to the side like a ragdoll, scorch marks littering his body. "Hang on, Grimlock, I'm coming!"

"Strongarm, wait!" Denny called out as the femme charged in to help her ally. "This... this doesn't look good. Russell, I want you to get as far away from the Scrapyard as possible! Now!"

"Dad!" Russell exclaimed before Denny could force him to hide. "That thing that was with Soundwave—I think that's what it wants! Didn't you see what Soundwave did to that guy?"

Denny's expression was solemn when the son reminded him. They had watched from their hiding place as Soundwave attacked the reptilian monster and pinned it down. The creature flailed and cried for mercy, only for the Decepticon to pull out a wire and plug it in the smaller Cybertronian's neck like jacking into computer. The lizard had gone stiff and was suddenly calm, even subservient. Was it... brainwashed?

Russell looked back at the ferocious dragon. Grimlock was unconscious for the second time that day beside Bumblebee. Strongarm was valiantly battling the massive beast on her own, keeping her distance and avoiding the monster's attacks as she fired her Decepticon Hunter. Eventually the Predacon got tired of the game.

Without warning, Predaking transformed and reached out, snatching Strongarm with a single servo. The femme yelled as she dropped her weapon and was painfully help up by her arms. She jerked away as the Predacon brought her faceplates to his as he snarled, revealing jagged, sword-like denta.

"I will finish what I failed to do, all those cycles ago," Predaking vowed, raising his talons menacingly. Strongarm flailed, whining, as he slowly neared them to her spark.

"WAIT!" Russell screamed.

Russell lunged forward before he even thought of the consequences, ignoring his father's yell. He skidded to a halt next to the dragon's pedes. The size different between them was ridiculous—Russell felt like an ant. He had to painfully crane his neck to look up at the Predacon, while Predaking had to contort his body to even notice the little being.

The boy flinched when suddenly those fierce, burning optics were trained on him in a glare. The warm sun was blocked out by the giant's menacing shadow. The ten-year-old boy gulped, summoning all of his courage.

"S-Soundwave took him!" he yelled up at the Predacon, hoping the mighty being could even hear him.

Suddenly Predaking let out a deep, dangerous growl. The human was afraid he would attack Strongarm, but instead the dragon threw her away with a flick of a wrist. She crashed next to her comrades with a grunt. Russell was trembling but stood his ground as Predaking transformed back into a beast, lowering his head so his maw scraped the ground. The boy still had to look up at the dragon's optics. A chill went down his spine as hot air blew on him with an unpleasant, charcoal-like smell.

"You wish to deceive me," Predaking growled. "Soundwave is gone. He fell in battle!"

"H-he came back!" Russell trembled, hardly able to stand under his own weight from his weak legs. "Soundwave was stuck in the Shadowzone—but now he's back! The guy did something to the other one—it was like you, but silver and small!" the boy managed to squeak out as he nervously eyed fangs that were longer than he was tall.

The beast screeched, closing any gap between him and the boy in an instant, its mandibles spreading out like something from Predator. Russell fell to the ground, using his arms as a meager means of defense against the mighty creature. His clothes and hair were drawn upward as the Predacon sucked in, Russell swearing that even his feet left the ground for a moment. Then hot, cycled air washed over his body, not unlike what the other one had done when he ran into it.

"You are covered with Quickclaw's scent," Predaking rumbled. "If what you say is true, then where did Soundwave take my Little-One?"

"I... I don't know," Russel admitted in a small voice. "He used a groundbridge to—"

The boy didn't have a chance to finish his sentence as the Predacon let out a thundering growl, making his ribcage rattle. Stretching his long neck, the dragon raised his head up to the skies as he let out a long, bellowing shriek of raw fury. Russell flinched, trying to melt into the ground, as the dragon released a massive stream of white-hot plasma fire.

"Then I will HUNT Soundwave, and rip out his spark!" Predaking proclaimed in a roar, like he was challenging the heavens himself. "Quickclaw is mine and mine alone! I will reclaim what has been taken from me! I will go to the ends of this planet if I must!"

"T-then help us!" Strongarm shouted to the beast from the side, holding an arm close to her chassis. In the corner of her eye she could see Bumblebee stirring, beginning to regain consciousness. "We have a common enemy—if Soundwave manages to contact Megatron then we'll all be fragged!"

Predaking snarled, a nasty noise that sounded like a rock slide.

"So you may destroy us?" he hissed. "No. I will find my Little-One with my own power. And I will destroy anyone that stands in my way! Whether they be Decepticon, or Autobot!"

"P-Predaking!" Bumblebee yelled as he onlined his optics, but it was too late.

The mighty dragon extended his wings, flapping them. Russell whined as the wind threw dust into the air and right into his eyes. He brought an arm up to shield his face, just as Denny lunged to his side, shielding him from the giant monster above them.

With a shriek, Predaking struck his tail on the ground and flapped his wings, sending him high into the air. The Great-King soared into the clouds. The hunt had begun.


Ravage was terribly confused. First they were that scrapyard, under bright sunlight and open, salty air. Then there was a light—too bright. And now it was dark—too dark. A stale, full scent tickled his chemoreceptors and microscopic particles floated before his vision. The walls around him were smooth and black. Cold and menacing.

The door closed, cutting him off from the outside world, and leaving him in darkness.

Jack screamed. No, no, no! Not here! Anywhere but here! He couldn't go back! Not again! Not again!

Ravage growled stressfully at the sudden panic attack, venting heavily. There were clanking steps before they suddenly paused. After a moment, they resumed, drawing nearer. There was a light, soft, comforting touch to his crown.

"Ravage: safe," the Master assured. "Soundwave: protect symbiote."

The small Predacon's ventilation slowed minutely, crooning under the Master's touch that stroked his crown of horns, then the small of his back with long, blunt fingers. When his tremors disappeared and his venting ceased, the Master rose back to his pedes, ordering Ravage to follow. The cassette obeyed.

The corridors were expansive and long, the only sound coming from the steps of their pedes. The hallways were maze-like, but the Master navigated them easily. Finally they came to a room with screens making up the entire walls. They were black and lifeless. Most had dust and cobwebs covering them, and some of them were even cracked. The Master ignored their deteriorated state as he walked to the main console in the center of the room.

Ravage sat on his haunches, watching curiously as the Master meddled with the control console. Twice the buttons flickered on and off, until finally the dashboard lit up with bright lights with a hum. There were several more minutes as then the screen's around them flickered, each monitor turning on one by one.

Ravage was intrigued by the display of lights from the glass, tail twitching as he watched each one. The Master's hands ghosted over the keys of the machines effortlessly, his tendrils attached to the computer. Then the screens flashed red, along with a sharp, blaring noise that irritated his audio receptors and had his plates spiked in anticipation of a fight. He detected nothing however, no intruder or 'Bot to fight off.

It grew dark moments later, the light of the consoles and the overhead screens fading away. The Master tried to bring the power back on, but with no success this time. Ravage jumped to his feet when suddenly Soundwave slammed a fist onto the console, making a loud bang.

"Harbinger communications system: damaged beyond repair," the Decepticon observed. "Must find alternative solution."

The Master fiddled with the controls again. Suddenly the screen directly in front of the console flickered to life. It was cracked and static like, but it was clear enough for Ravage to make out a map of the world's continents. A beacon flew over the map, searching, until it landed on the edge of a landmass. A picture of a vessel appeared.

"Alchemor: still functional," the Master reported. "Communications: Functional."

Ravage rumbled lightly, following the Decepticon's gaze. He tilted his head curiously, finding the location to be a small island of sorts. Then the Master withdrew from the console, tendrils withdrawing. Ravage followed dutifully after him as he formed another portal, the two passing through ease.

The next thing he knew, they were inside another hallway, the metal walls not so dark and brightly lit. The portal closed swiftly, Ravage hardly having the time to detect possible threats to the Master as he was already on the move.

Ravage saw the pair of guards before the Master did. They were faceless like Soundwave, owning visors instead of faceplates. Suddenly the pair started at the Decepticon's approach. They shifted into defensive stances as their arms shifted into energon blasters. Ravage snarled and leaped between the threat and the Master, tail spiked and raised defensively.

"Ravage: stand down," the Master ordered promptly.

The Predacon reluctantly obeyed, forcing his spikes to relax as he shifted his weight. Soundwave's electronic tone made the guards flinch again.

"Soundwave!" one exclaimed, his voice deep but staticky. "We thought you had perished aboard the Nemesis!"

Instead of answering, the Master ordered, "Take me to the leader of this vessel."

The guards nodded.

"This way," one said, leading them further down the hall and through the ship.

Ravage was on constant guard as multiple scents assaulted his chemoreceptors, mixing together in unpleasant ways. He snarled at a mech that came too close, bearing sharp, glinting fangs until the threat was passed by. They hadn't traveled long before they came to a door, voices drifting from the other side.

"You summoned us, Steeljaw?" a femme's voice came.

"We do not respond well to being summoned, good fellow," a mech with a strange accent added. "And it appears you're no closer to getting those Decepticon Hunters!"

Ravage's hide prickled at the end of the sentence. A hunter of Decepticons? Preposterous!

"Ah, but appearance can be..." a smooth, cool voice replied, calm and collected despite the hostility from the first pair. It suddenly rose to a victorious yell. "Deceiving!"

Suddenly there was a high-pitched sound and Ravage felt a pulse of energy, so powerful he detected it through the door. He instinctively ejected his spikes to brace to attack, but the Master was impassive and impatient as always. The door yawned open as his approach.

Revealing two brightly-colored Insecticons laying on the floor, lifeless.

Above the husks was a tall, bluish-silver mech. His long audial fins ended in sharp points, twitching with satisfaction. A spiky tail projected from his back, not unlike Ravage's. The Predacon locked on to the Decepticon symbol on his shoulder, but it had three long groves going through it, like claw marks. In each of the stranger's claws was a strange weapon, glowing and crackling with power. Ravage growled. Decepticon Hunters.

The silver mech turned at the newcomers. His yellow optics flared with surprise and his optic ridges were raised. Ravage felt the brush of his EM field, but the Cybertronian quickly pulled it in tight. Recognition lit up his faceplates.

"Ah, Soundwave," the Decepticon greeted. "Back from the Shadowzone, I see."

The Master eyed the defiled Decepticon emblem on the other one's shoulder. Disapproval prickled Soundwave's field, but only Ravage was close enough to sense it.

"I am in need of the Alchemor's communcations relay," he answered in his ever stoic voice, straight to the point as always.

"Communications?" Steeljaw echoed, raising a sleek optic ridge with a cunning grin. "Who might it be that you're trying to contact?"

"Lord Megatron: location unknown."

"Yes, that is rather unfortunate," he mused, false sympathy radiating off the treacherous wolf. "But what would I have to gain from such an agreement?"

"You are irrelevant to me." Steeljaw's optics went wide and bright, like the communications officer had pointed a Decepticon Hunter at him. "Mission: send beacon into space to summon Lord Megatron to Earth."

Suddenly the silver Decepticon's audial fins pointed back and he bared his denta. The low tone was replaced by a harsh yell. "Megatron is gone! He left us! I am the leader of the Decepticons. This island is merely the first outpost of my new empire."

"Lord Megatron: one true lord and master of the Decepticons."

Ravage bared his fangs at the wolf Decepticon, sensing his intentions toward them. Sure enough, the mech lashed out with his one of his weapons, only for Soundwave to easily block the attack with a shielded arm. His tentacles struck out, but was blocked by Steeljaw's second weapon.

Steeljaw gave a wicked sneer, only to be replaced by a howl of pain. Spikes suddenly lodged in his back and fangs buried into his shoulder, drawing precious energon. The Decepticon reached up and dug claws into Ravage's hide, trying to pry him off.

"Get off! Get off!" Steeljaw yelped, flailing helplessly.

The cassette bit down harder with a growl, provoking another yowl. The Predacon saw the tendril before the mech did. He leaped off, just as the Master struck Steeljaw's side, sending him into the wall. The metal dented with a loud clang and the wolf fell to the ground with a grunt. Soundwave's tentacles hovered above him, crackling threateningly with electricity. Steeljaw flinched at the sound.

"I... I submit!" he forced out through grounded denta.

The tendrils retracted promptly.

"Alchemor's communcations system: belong to me now," Soundwave hummed triumphantly.

Steeljaw didn't reply, tending to his wounds with groans of pain, hand coming back covered in energon when he touched the bite wound. Ravage licked his blue-stained maw, eyeing the Decepticon hungrily.

Soundwave took the discarded weapons, taking them for his own. A shake of his head had Ravage reluctantly pulling back from the usurper.


The Scrapyard was a mess. Scorch marks and deep groves littered the ground. Entire stacks were knocked over or melted into molten statues. Dad was in distraught at his destroyed collection. Russell was sore and confused.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"Predaking," Bumblebee spat with venom. "A Predacon."

"Predacon?" Strongarm echoed. "That can't be right. They have been extinct for eons!"

"The Decepticons cloned him from ancient remains. Made him into some kind of superweapon. I... I thought he was destroyed we blew the lab."

"Lab as in an evil Decepticon laboratory?" Denny ventured.

"More like a Predacon factory," Bumblebee grounded out. "Shockwave planned to clone an entire army to release upon the Earth."

"Apparently you missed one," Strongarm pointed out grudgingly.

"And what about that other one?" Russell pointed out, stepping closer to the 'Bots. They turned to peer down at him.

"It must have been one of Soundwave's cassettes," Bumblebee guessed.

"But he had the same symbol as the big dragon!"

Suddenly Bumblebee's optics went wide and bright in shock.

"Are... are you sure?" he asked, cautiously.

"Positive!" Russell nodded.

"Then... that must mean it was a per-per," Fixit started, only to get caught in a loop. He hit himself, snapping out of it, and finished the sentence, "Predacon!"

"Explains why Predaking was so worked up," Bumblebee realized.

"Why would Soundwave take it?" Russell asked.

"Maybe to finish his twisted master's experiment."

"That's what Soundwave called it, but he said something strange when he was pinning the guy down," Russell added in, confused. "Called it experiment, uh...Jason...Jade...Jack! That was it. Jackson Darby. I didn't think you guys took on human names."

Russell had never seen a Cybertronian be frozen in shock before. Suddenly the Autobot lieutenant's frame went stiff like he was in stasis lock. He broke the spell when he stared down at the boy with dilated optics.

"That's... impossible," Bumblebee gasped, fiercely and sure as he cut a servo through the air. "Jack... Jack is dead!"

"Hold on, now," Denny interjected, stepping forward to clasp his son's shoulders. "Who's Jack?"

"He..." Bumblebee's broke off into a rough, static sound. He reset his vocalizer and tried again. "He... was a friend of mine. A comrade. He was a human that shared our secret when we visited Earth... thirty years ago." Suddenly the 'Bot shook his head, like he was trying to get rid of an absurd thought. "But... that's impossible. A human... couldn't... couldn't be—never mind a Predacon..."

"Whoa, whoa, back up." Denny stated, feeling a touch of concern now. "What exactly happened to this kid?"

Bumblebee made a crackling sound like he clearing his throat, his voice a sounding stretched when he spoke again.

"He was attacked. By the Decepticons. Predaking was there," he muttered. "My friend was seriously injured. If it weren't for Ultra Magnus, she would have died. We never found Jack. Not in the wreckage, Darkmount, or even the Nemesis."

"We... thought he was killed. He had to be killed. It was—it is the only logical explanation."

"But Soundwave called that Predacon Jack," Russell said.

"Why would the 'Cons name a Predacon 'Jack'?" Grimlock demanded.

"You don't think..." Strongarm gasped, but couldn't bring herself to say it.

Bumblebee offlined his optics, a shudder running through his frame.

"I don't know," he sighed, onlining his optics. "But I know we need to stop Soundwave. If he sends a distress signal into space, it'll attract every Decepticon in the galaxy and turn Earth into a battleground."

"Why don't we just let the bigger lizard care of it?" Grimlock asked. "Let him do the work for us!"

"And if Predaking doesn't stop him in time?"

"But we don't even know where he is!" Strongarm protested.

"What about Decepticon Island?" Russell suggested.

"Indeed!" Fixit agreed. "It is only logical that the Soundwave would try to rendezvous with his compatriots!"

"But we have no idea where that is, either," Strongarm deadpanned.

"Then we better start hunting," Bumblebee declared. He pressed a finger to his audial receptor, activating his com-link. "Bumblebee to Optimus Prime."


Predaking flew high above the clouds, tracking the scent of his Little-One, wherever he might be. It was more difficult than he first believed it to be. While he knew Quickclaw's scent like his own. However, he had been transported via groundbridge, meaning a trail was almost nonexistent.

But he would not give up, could not—would not fail his young charge. Predaking would not suffer the pain of being alone or allow more undue suffering to come to his Little-One. Quickclaw had been through too much in his short life, even if he did not recall all of it.

The Decepticons stole his soul, twisted and tortured him, all for their own ends. Predaking was a fool to ever trust them. They did not create he and his brethren to restore the Predacons to their former glory. No, they preferred to have the race as obedient soldiers—mindless slaves. Just the very thought disgusted Predaking. The Great-Hunters were not beasts, they were not slaves!

Quickclaw was not their slave! The Great-King did not care that he was once this "Jack." He did not care that Quickclaw was born from the flesh of a hooman. Jack was dead. Quickclaw lived. Quickclaw was a Predacon. The last of the Predacons.

Predaking opened his jaw wide, letting out a long, echoing roar across the land.


"You sure this is the place?" Bumblebee asked a Mini-Corn who looked exactly like Fixit, albeit scratched and dented.

"The Alchemor is six miles from the coast," he assured with a nod. "Heavy shielding prevents it from being accidentally discovered by the natives to prevent agitating them when landing for resupply."

"And the humans would have explained any giant waves created by the crash to be seismic activity," Ratchet realized.

The medic was the newest member of the Autobots' ever-growing numbers. Between the Bee Team and the Away Team, there was almost a dozen now. Denny would have to think of a clever cover story to hide them all. Ratchet had come to Earth hunting Decepticon fugitives, but not for glorious reasons. Back on Cybertron, he had spoken against the newly reformed High Council, who were slandering Optimus Prime's name, only to find himself in political exile.

Better than the alternative, Ratchet had said, and the medic proved useful. He had treated the malnourished and wounded Toolbox, who just barely managed to escape his Decepticon slavers. By some miracle, the Mini-Con had found them, and told them the location of his imprisonment—Decepticon Island.

Russell stared out over the ocean, only to see just that—ocean. No giant alien prisoner spaceship. Cloaked or not, how does no one notice an entire shipwrecked island for two years, so close to shore? The boy didn't understand. But then again, there were a lot of things he didn't understand.

"Everyone remember the plan?" Blumblebee asked.

"Yeah!" Grimlock exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air. Only to lower it when a confused look fell over his faceplates. "Uh, what am I doing again?"

"Remember," Windblade advised, "we want any sentries to think we're unconscious and not a threat. So close your optics and stay still."

"Right," the Dinobot nodded as they moved into the boat, taking their positions.

How it didn't sink from the combined weight of multiple Cybertronians was beyond Denny and Russell. Fixit moaned as the boat took off, swiveling to and fro.

"...It doesn't feel right to stay behind while my fellow mini-cons are in danger," the Mini-Con whined.

"Relax, Fixit," Denny assured. "Optimus and Bumblebee know what they're doing."

Fixit stared longingly as his comrades headed towards the horizon. To Decepticon Island, where hundreds of Decepticons awaited them.


The Alchemor's communications center was not that much different than the Harbinger's. Screens filled the walls, complex-looking dashboards circumnavigating the entire room. However, unlike the Harbinger's, this room was bright and alive with schematics, pings and beeps, and the garble of Decepticon radio chatter. And the slave coding that directed the Mini-Cons to repair the ship. So that the Decepticons could leave this worthless planet and return to the stars.

Soundwave sat in the center of it all, leaning against a chair almost like a lord would lean against a throne. Ravage was by his side as always, forelegs draped across the Master's lap. He had his helm on his paws, optics offlined as he prepared for recharge. He did not protest when the Master absentmindedly petted him from his neck to his back. Fingers stroked each of his individual horns, making Ravage hum in content. The Decepticon moved from his crown to the sensitive metal underneath his jaw. Immediately the Predacon purred at the massage, tilting his helm to allow better access.

"Lord Megatron: will return soon," Soundwave promised, his usual monotone voice owning a sense of wistfulness. "Decepticons: Restored to former glory. We can go home."

Yes. They would take back Cybertron, what was rightfully theirs. And make those obnoxious Autobots pay—

His thoughts were interrupted by a blaring noise. Happy feeling gone, Ravage immediately leaped down to all fours, tail and spikes erect as he let out a startled growl. Alert messages covered the screen as they flashed an angry red. Immediately Soundwave's visor flipped through images.

Settling on Autobot interlopers.

"Ravage: deploy. Mission: terminate," he ordered.

The Predacon snarled as he swiftly left the room, the Mini-Cons giving him a wide berth as he began tracking down the intruders. It wasn't hard—with all the noise it would be difficult not to find them.

Ravage was padding silently across the floor, as he located two of the intruders—the yellow one from the scrapyard and a massive 'Bot he had never seen before. They hadn't noticed him yet, so he had element of surprise—

"It is...the key to the groundbridge power supply." The mech looked away as he said this, but he didn't noticed, examining the silver object he had just given him.

"Then...shouldn't Ratchet have this?" he countered, but the mech shook his head.

"Perhaps. But I have been impressed with how much you have matured since we first met."

Ravage whined softly as images and voices assaulted his mind, so familiar, but so far away at the same time. He shook it away as fiercely as he could. He needed to stop them! For the Master! For Megatron!

Ravage let out a vicious growl as he lunged forward. The Autobot interlopers merely cocked their heads at the strange noise. They turned, but it was too late. Unfurling from his spiral, the Predacon sent a spiked tail into the yellow one's helm. Caught off-guard and off-balance, the Autobot let out a grunt as he fell to the floor.

Ravage landed nimbly on his pedes and charged the other one before the mech had a chance to react. The Predacon sliced his tail across the wiring of the large Autobot's stabilizer, reveling his throaty yelp of pain. It was not enough to deter him, though, as the Autobot merely sent a kick into the little Predacon. Ravage screamed as he was sent flying through the air, crashing into the wall.

"It will take more than that to defeat a Prime, little one," the Autobot chided, his tone mocking. Ravage growled as he picked himself to his pedes.

"Wait! That's the Predacon!" the yellow one gasped as he rose onto fours.

"Hey, Raf, is there anyway I can, um, borrow Bumblebee?"

Jack blinked. Optimus? Bumblebee?

Ravage whined as pain flared through his system. He forced his optics open, only to see a black servo filling his vision. He screeched in panic and immediately twisted. He sent a volley of claws and spikes at the assaulting servo, sending its owner back with a hiss. Not looking back, the Predacon tore down the hallway.


"This is a bad idea," Russell moaned as he watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller.

"You did not have to some-hum—," Fixit glitched until Russel kicked him. "Come!"

"I can't just sit back and not do anything!" Russell countered as they pressed forward on a little dinghy.

Suddenly, overhead they heard a shriek. Both human and Mini-Con froze as they glanced up, only to see a shadow casting over them. Russell swallowed thickly when he saw the dragon swoop over the ferry, heading directly for Decepticon Island.

"Uh, oh..." the boy and Fixit murmured simultaneously.


Sideswipe, Strongarm, and Grimlock sprinted down the long, winding corridors of the Alchemor. They had to take the communication center, and broadcast a frequency that would disconnect the Mini-Cons' inhibiters. They came to a door, that opened promptly to their approach.

Only for the Autobots to skid to a halt as they came face-to-visor with Soundwave.

"Scrap!" Sideswipe, Grimlock and Strongarm said in sync, just barely able to move out of the way when Soundwave's tendrils shot forward, crackling with electricity.

Sideswipe and Strongarm lithely dodged the attack, but Grimlock in his dino-mode was not as graceful. The Dinobot roared with pain as intense electricity knocked him unconscious.

"Grimlock!" Strongarm yelped.

Her first thought was to help her friend, even jerking towards his direction, only for a tentacle to whip against her chassis. She yelled as she too was sent to the floor. Taking advantage of the fact that Soundwave was focused on the law enforcement officer, Sideswiped circled around to the Decepticon's rear.

"You're done, Decepti-freak!" he yelled victoriously as he lunged forward, sword raised over his head.

Without even looking, Soundwave stepped to the side, having the crimson Autobot's attack fail miserably. The Decepticon struck him from behind, sending the Autobot crashing into Grimlock with a moan, tumbling into him upside-down.

"Hey, Grimlock," he said in a daze, the Dinobot groaning in response.

The two Autobots fell into statsis, leaving Soundwave to continue his task. He didn't have much time left...


Predaking roared as the crashed-ship came into sight. It's cargo bay was wide open, leaving an optimal landing pad. There were two Decepticon guards at the edge of the hanger, too busy inspecting the husks of their fallen brethren to notice the silent beast. They wailed as the Predacon landed on top of them, crushing them with just his weight alone.

He snarled before releasing a jet of fire into the sealed doors, too impatient to wait for more drones to appear and open the door. He rammed into it, blowing the panels off with ease. Inside, he could smell the scents of many things—the stench drones and the bland scent of lesser beings. The Autobots were already here, their scents dividing into two different paths. Soundwave was here as well, and intertwined with him was Quickclaw's.

Predaking growled, talons digging deeply into the metal as he surged forward to find his Little-One. Another broad door blocked his path. He blasted it down as easily as the first. However, it wasn't the miserable thief that greeted him.

"Ah, Predaking, is it?" Steeljaw greeted in a sultry voice, dozens of Decepticons surrounding him.

The army shifted uneasily as Predaking transformed before them. He was the largest one in the entire room. The Silver-One had yellow optics just like his, and a scent different but not completely unlike his own. Not a Predacon. A descendent, then. The Great-Hunter bared his fangs.

"Stand aside, Halfling," Predaking snarled. "Or I will tear out your spark."

The half-breed raised an optic ridge at the term, but didn't seemed overly concerned with the Predacon's appearance. Predaking took notice of the half-healed, large bite wound in the wolf's shoulder and narrowed his optics. He caught a faint, familar scent from the mech, who watched him with intrigue.

"So Quickclaw has been resisting," Predaking hummed in a pleased tone. Another part was furious that he had to be fighting with the likes of these mutts.

"If you are referring to the wound the cassette granted me," he gestured to his shoulder for emphasis. "Then I regret to inform you that there was very little 'resisting' on his part when he and Soundwave wrestled command from me."

The mention of the thief's name brought a growl from Predaking's throat.

"What do you mean?" the Great-King demanded. "Quickclaw would never ally with those that tortured him!"

"Well, they looked pretty cozy to me," Steeljaw retorted with venom.

"Then Soundwave is lying to the Little-One."

"Perhaps." Suddenly the Halfling revealed a row of fangs in a satisfied smirk. He eyed Predaking's gigantic form with a wolflike hunger. Just like Megatron. "But... if you want to really want to save your… 'little one', we could ally against Soundwave. He may be powerful, but we outnumber him."

Predaking snarled. Power. That was the same promise he was given, only to be betrayed. By Megatron. By the Decepticons.

"I will never ally with your kind again!" the Great-King declared, shifting into a battle stance as he slashed his talons through the air.

"Pity..." Steeljaw drawled, slumping his shoulders in mock defeat. He gazed upon his subjects, raising a clawed fist in the air. "Decepticons! Attack!" There was a moment of silence, in which no one moved. Steeljaw looked back to his fellow cons incredulously. "What are you waiting for? Attack!"

Still, they did nothing but stare at the Predacon.

"Your brethren are not so foolish as to attack me," the Great-King informed the wolf after his second command went unheeded. Even beings such as these knew not to battle the apex predator.

"Cowards!" Steeljaw spat. "Fine! I'll take you on by myself!"

With a howl, the wolf Decepticon leaped forward. With a growl, Predaking lunged to meet him. Steeljaw was only half of the Predacon's size, making it easy for him to duck underneath the Great-King's talons. The Halfling sent a volley of clawed swipes into Predaking's back, making the dragon hiss in pain. He quickly turned around, however, landing a vicious blow to Steeljaw's abdomen.

The wolf wheezed as he was sent skidding across the floor, a couple of Decepticons even stepping out of the way. Not letting up on his attack, Predaking surged towards the downed prey. Hearing the thundering steps, Steeljaw quickly leaped to his feet, only to be greeted with Predaking's talons. He wailed in pain as large, sharp talons dug deep groves into his chassis, drawing energon. Steeljaw stumbled back, but the Great-Hunter would not allow it.

Predaking wrapped his servo around Steeljaw's entire head, and easily plucked him off the floor. With a roar, the Predacon turned and raised the wolf high into the air, throwing him across the room. Decepticons jumped out of the way as he crashed onto the ground for a second time. This time, Steeljaw was able to control his landing, clumsily rolling into a crouch.

"Is that all you got, Predacon?" the Decepticon leader taunted.

"I am Predaking!" the Great-King thundered.

The pair charged towards each other again to clash head-on. Steeljaw tried to duck low again, but Predaking anticipated the attack. The Predacon leaped into the air, sending a powerful kick into the wolf's chassis. A shower of sparks flew as the Decepticon howled in pain. Predaking arched his back to flip back onto his pedes, only to transform mid-air.

The Decepticon army reared back as the Great-Hunter landed on all fours, his emblem glowing. Steeljaw was struggling to make it to his pedes, not noticing until he was greeted with a vision of flame. He screamed in fright as scarlet plasma-fire surrounded him, burning his armor. And melting the floor.

Panicking, Steeljaw tried to pull his legs up, only to sink deeper into the molten metal. Even if he did try to escape, he would be greeted with flames. Suddenly Predaking clamped his jaws shut, ending the jet of flame, eying his work.

"You haven't won!" Streeljaw declared. "I will still claim my throne!"

He moved to pounce again, only his legs did not move. Steeljaw attempted to move again, but failed. Predaking merely watched with triumphant satisfaction. The wolf snarled and growled and yelled as he desperately clawing at his metal prison, only for his talons to bounce off harmlessly. Realizing he was hopelessly stuck, the Decepticon let out a howl of fury.

"You are no king," Predaking growled, waving a talon at his defeated opponent. "You are a coward that wears a crown."

Seeing that none of the others were uninterested in staking a claim for power after that display, Predaking moved. After witnessing the sheer ferocity of his might, no one dared to attack him from behind. Following Quickclaw's scent led him through several corridors and sectors. Finally he came to a door where the scent was as its strongest.

"Soundwave!" Predaking roared when the doors opened, revealing the thief.

The Decepticon whirled around at his approach. The Great-King completely ignored the unconscious and stasis-cuffed Autobots piled in the corner as he stomped towards the menace. Soundwave barely came to the Predacon's chest, and a thin enough that the Great-King could break him in half.

"Return Quickclaw to me, NOW!" Predaking thundered. As always, Soundwave was silent, curling his fingers into a fist. Predaking was in no mood for his antics. "You will return what you have stolen!"

The Great-King stepped forward, talons extended. Suddenly two, electric-silver-staffs appeared in Soundwave's hands, crackling with energy.

"Quickclaw: no more," the thief droned in a deep, echoing voice. Predaking reared back, realizing it was not a recording. It was his voice. "Ravage: belongs to me."

Predaking roared, and charged towards his opponent.


The Alchemor was huge. He ran at a full sprint by Fixit's side, but it still took too long to go down a single corridor. Echoing off the metal walls were sounds of battle going on throughout the ship. The Autobots had engaged the Decepticons. The boy's gut twisted. His and his partner needed to get out quickly, or they would get caught in the crossfire.

Suddenly, over the distance sounds of energon fire, was a high-pitched buzzing noise. Fixit squealed in delight and turned the corner, revealing dozens of Mini-Cons that looked just like him. Well, almost like him. They were covered in scratches and dents from physical abuse, and their movements were sluggish. They looked miserable, inhibiters clasped around their necks.

"We have to help them!" Russell announced.

He and Fixit moved forward, only for a vicious snarl to make them halt in their tracks. Russell glanced up to see a cloaked figure in the shadows above him, burning crimson eyes glaring down at them. With a hiss, the figure gracefully leaped onto the ground in front of them.

The Predacon.

"N-Nice Predacon..." Russell stammered as he froze, along with the other Mini-Cons. He took a step back as the beast neared them. "You don't want hurt us, do you?"

The Predacon merely growled menacingly at them. Both human and Autobot had their hands up submissively, but it did not to quell the beast's aggressiveness. Russell stared into those burning red optics. Weren't they blue before? Did Soundwave really do something to him?

"Look, we're here to help you," the boy tried.

Ravage snarled. Help? He did not need help! The cassette snapped his jaws, jerking forward threateningly. Russell and Fixit screamed in fright. The Mini-Con put servos over his head while the human fell onto his back.

Seeing the down prey, Ravage's optics flared. He moved to pounce, only for the Mini-Con to force himself between the Predacon and the human.

"You'll hurt him over my crumpled chassis!" Fixit declared valiantly, only to whine when Ravage took an impatient step forward.

The Predacon's optics glanced down, noticing the bright red symbol on the Mini-Cons chassis. The emblem of the Autobots.

Autobots... the Master wanted them dead, but a part of Ravage screamed at him in alarm. The Predacon growled lowly, pawning at his helm before smashing his crown into the floor. Anything to get rid of the constant ache!

Snarling, Ravage straightened back and glared at the enemy. The Autobot was still protecting the child, like she did. The Predacon hissed as his frame shuddered. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he focus? Arcee was dead!

He flinched at his own thought. Arcee? Who was Acree?

Maybe they knew Arcee was better than them.

His processor ached terribly, hardly able to think through the pulses of agony that shot through his helm. He didn't understand!

"What's wrong with him?" Fixit asked in concern.

"He's fighting back!" Russell realized, jumping back to his feet in excitement. If it was true, if the Predacon wasn't a Decepticon, and if he wasn't actually a Predacon. "Come on, Jack, you have to remember!"

Jack.

The single word sent a flurry of images flashing across Ravage's vision. Jack? What was this Jack?

"Optimus was more like... Jack."

No, he was nothing like the Prime! He could never be that great; he was just a high school student… Wait, what was he thinking? He had to destroy the interloper. He glanced up only to see the fleshling was glaring right at him. Ravage bared his fangs, insulted. Did the human want to be torn apart?

"You have to fight back!" Russell urged. "Fight Soundwave! This isn't who you are!"

Who was he?

"Rememeber your friends! Remember the Autobots!"

Friends?

"Come on, Jackrabbit!"

"You're my best friend, Jack."

Miko? Raf?

"You have a family!" Russell yelled over Ravage's distressed growls.

Warmth surrounded him, a rumbling purr emanating from a large chest. He was pushed into the Great-King's side gently, who had watched over him for as long as he could remember.

Jack whined lowly, the images too fast and sudden when he heard a shriek tearing through the halls- the Great-King. Predaking.

His Majesty. His guardian. His captor. The dragon.

Predaking protected him. The Great-King loved him like a son, and he loved the dragon like a father he never had. Jack only had a mother, but not even she could protect him when—

Suddenly there was a loud clang of a pede. All three beings flinched and glanced up at the three Vehicons standing over them, blasters trained on the intruders. Russell and Fixit screamed; Ravage snarled. He locked on the menacing, purple logo. The Decepticons. His captors.

Russell looked between the giants and the Predacon, as if deciding which was worse. He decided to settle his gaze on Ravage.

"I know you're still in there, Jack! You can't let them win!"

"You won't win!"

Optics flared. Plating bristled and spikes ejected. Fangs bared.

Jack.

Russell leaped back and Fixit covered his optics with his servo.

Jack Darby.

The blaster charged.

His name was Jack Darby!

Jack lunged. The Vehicon that had prepared to fire screamed as suddenly the hybrid bit into his arm, severing the wiring leading to his weapon. The arm instinctively flailed, a second servo moving to swipe at him. Noticing it, Jack leaped off his perch, instead latching on the Decepticon's neck. The Vehicon screamed as he tore into his throat.

Before the husk even hit the ground, Jack was jumping into the air. Servos swiped at him, but he curled into a ball to make himself smaller. He used the added momentum to strike another Vehicon straight in the visor with his spiked mace, sending it to the floor. Jack unfurled, only for an unforgiving grip to seize his body.

The hybrid snarled at the Eradicon that held him. He reached for the inner fire in his chest, willing it to grow. The heat consumed him. With a roar, the Predacon unleashed a jet of flame into the monster's spark. Jack landed nimbly on his talons as the Decepticon crashed into a heap of scrap metal.

"Yeah! Way to go, Jack!" Russell cheered, Fixit joining him.

Jack rumbled pleasantly in his chest, pleased with himself. Predaking would be proud of his accomplishments.

Speaking of which...

"H-hey, wait for us!" Russell cried out as the hybrid suddenly turned tail and fled the room.

Jack tore down the halls, faster than he thought possible. Decepticons and Autobots alike yelped as he raced by, but he paid them no heed. Instead, he locked on to a powerful, familiar scent, one that he knew like his own. He heard familiar roars echo off the walls, in a mixture of fury and pain.

Jack growled deep in his chest. He needed to help Predaking! His protector! His Majesty!

Quickclaw surged forward through the metallic doors.

Beyond them, he saw Soundwave in battle with the Great-King. Soundwave would swipe with glowing staffs while striking with tentacles. Groundbridges opened and closed constantly, jumping around the room. Predaking met his weapons with talons and flame, dodging Soundwave's tricks.

Finally the Decepticon found an opening, slashing against the Predacon's chest, sending Predaking stumbling back towards an open groundbridge. The Great-King managed to skid to a halt before slipping through, but Soundwave was raising the Decepticon Hunters for another attack.

Only for Quickclaw to bury his fangs into his shoulder.

The 'Con made no sound, not even a grunt of discomfort as Quickclaw dug in his fangs. A tendril grabbed a hold of him, prying him loose from the mech's shoulder and giving him a shock before it tossed him to the ground.

The Predacon wasn't deterred though—he moved back onto his feet, albeit a little shakily. Soundwave stared down at him, head hilted in hurt confusion. Predaking took advantage of the distraction to attack the Decepticon with a furious yell.

The Predacon sent slash after slash at the Decepticon, only for the ex-gladiator to dance around his attacks like it was child's play. Soundwave spun around to Predaking's back, slicing across his back with the crackling Decepticon. The Great-King roared with pain and promptly transformed. Soundwave couldn't avoid the tail that struck him hard across the chest, sending him crashing into the communications relays.

Sparks flew and screens flickered as the dashboard dipped underneath Soundwave's momentum. The Decepticon slid to the ground and landed on all fours. He glanced over to a growling Quickclaw.

"Ravage: obey," he ordered.

The coding in his head spiked briefly, but Jack fought it off, shaking himself to rid himself of its effects. He prowled closer, bearing his fangs. Predacons were not pets!

His inner fire flared and Quickclaw let out a blast of flame.

Soundwave wasn't expecting it, as the attack hit him square in the chassis. The Decepticon went skidding across the floor, scorch marks across his body. Quicklclaw chirped in satisfaction and Predaking rumbled in approval.

Soundwave was not defeated, however, as he glanced to his right. He used a tendril to swipe Strongarm's fallen Decepticon Hunter. Adding a third to his collection.

The Decepticon rose to his pedes, looking at his trophies. Without warning, he held them together, creating a light so bright that the Predacons had to squint their eyes. Only to gap in shock when it faded.

Soundwave stood before them, cloaked in blue, glowing armor. A large staff was in his servo, crackling with power.

Predaking stepped over Quickclaw protectively, snarling at the Decepticon as he readied his weapon. Behind him, the communication console, still functioning even after Soundwave had crashed into it, made a sound of approval.

Both Predacons kept their distance when another groundbridge appeared, the two screeching at the sight of it. But it was not aimed for them—instead, it allowed someone to walk through.

At the sight of the large, intimidating silver and purple form, Quickclaw immediately started trembling, spikes bristling as he backed up into Predaking's leg. A tall, dark shadow fell over him.

Megatron had returned.