And now we come to chapter 7, in which things start to happen.

I will say no more.


"Boss! Hey Boss!" They all smelled Rattrap before they saw him. "Phwaw! Where've you been crawling, Tunnel Rat?" Airazor gagged. Beside her, Miko slapped a hand over her mouth and tried not to revisit lunch. "Okay, first: it's Rattrap. Not Tunnel Rat, not Templeton, not Cluny the scrappin' Scourge. Rattrap. And second: we got ambushed by Preds. It ain't our fault we discovered an incredible new smell!" Lio Convoy chose that moment to enter the room. "Rattrap, how did the mission—urgh!" He held a hand over his faceplate. "What happened?" A sheepish-looking Polar Claw shuffled up beside the rodent, equally soaked and equally foul-smelling. "We were wery near the energy spike," the bear sighed, "It vas an energos pyrite stone. We were bridging right into three Predacons." "Four if you count Ratbat," Rattrap interjected. "Da, Rattrap, I was just coming to that," the bear nodded sleepily. "We were outnumbered and they had most unscrupulous new soldier!" All doziness left his faceplate as his optics suffused with rage. "Fol, predatel'skiye garpii! Diversant shakht i trus!" ("Foul, treacherous harpy! Saboteur of mines and coward!")

Airazor started. "Not Swiftclaw?" she guessed. The frustrated roar that left Polar Claw's lips answered her. Miko tugged one of the falcon's feathers. "Who's Swiftclaw?" she asked quietly, "I don't remember her in the rap sheet of Predacons." Airazor grimaced. "She's..." She thought for a moment. "Generally she's a freelance terrorist. The Maximal council suspects that she was behind the Metroplex bombing." That didn't clear anything up for Miko. She turned to Apache questioningly. The large mech sighed and searched his files for a video shot of the femme in question. Miko watched with eyebrows raised as the snowy owl gleefully tore a Battle-type drone to shreds just for the heck of it. "Tread on my vings, vill you?" she screeched, "You haff made your last mistake!"

"Dude. She's nuts," Miko was not impressed. Polar Claw snarled savagely. "I vas in mine for a long time before joining Maximals. I vas wery good at it, top of my guild. Then one day she came." Rattrap edged away from the tense warrior as he remembered. "She sabotaged whole operation, just for kicks! I vas the only surwivor." Despite the reek of his fur, Miko jumped from the tree and ran to the bear comfortingly. "Scrap, 'Claw, I'm sorry! Tell ya what: she messes with you, she messes with me." Miko cracked her knuckles and grinned. "And as Hardshell found out, when you pick a fight with one Wrecker, you pick a fight with 'em all!" The Maximals exchanged concerned glances over her head. Hardshell? The infamous Insecticon? Oblivious, Miko had already begun plotting Swiftclaw's demise. "Don't worry about a thing, 'Claw," she vowed, "That Doitsugūn (German Goon) is going down!"

"Er, she's not really German..." Apache tried to tell them, but no one seemed interested. He blinked when he suddenly realized (quite belatedly) that Miko was the only human in the base. "Where are the boys?" he wondered. Convoy replied as he ordered Polar Claw and Rattrap to the was racks. "Rafael is out with Break and Stampy. They needed some time off to relax." He smiled a little, thinking of the youngsters. "And I believe Jackson has some chores to do before he comes today."


"Ah, they're getting at the henhouse again," the older man grumbled, nudging a dead chicken with the toe of his boot. "Jack, go get the barbed wire out of the truck, would you?" The boy nodded and jogged to the dusty red pickup, standing on the hubcaps to reach the sharp coil. Together, they lined the dirt outside the chicken wire with the barbs. "Well, that'll hold them for now," Tim sighed, "But they'll be back." Jack snorted ruefully. "Always another skirmish, huh?" The Paiute man laughed. "That's about the size of it! Old Tim wages his battle to destroy the evil forces of the predators." He frowned. "They've been a lot more aggressive lately. That's not natural for coyotes."

Jack grinned. "You could always ask the Falcon to scare them off, but she'd probably eat your chickens too." Mr. Whitefeather raised an eyebrow. "She, Jack? And here I thought you didn't believe my stories anymore!" The younger man flushed and stammered for a moment. "I...I dunno, I tend to think of falcons as feminine!" he blurted out, desperate for an excuse. Tim shrugged, accepting it, to Jack's relief. They finished laying the barbed wire and hopped into the truck to get to the next fence post. In the cab, Tim kept stealing glances at Jack, as if trying to decipher something. Finally, the older man asked, "Is something bothering you, son? You've been a little on edge recently."

"What? No, no sir. I'm fine," Jack hoped he didn't sound too eager to reply. Then, because the man didn't seem satisfied with his answer, "Well, I did run into my friend Miko's older brother on the way here. The guy's a pain in the neck." He grimaced, remembering the obnoxious teenager's challenge to race him. "I told him I wasn't going to go street racing and he called me a coward in front of six other people." His eyes hardened. "Not that it matters what he calls me. You couldn't pay me to get into one of those races. Once is enough," he muttered.

"Well, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part," Tim winked, "And go on record saying that you, Jackson Darby, are anything but a coward. In fact, you have more of a warrior's heart than a lot of adults I know." He put the truck in park and placed a wrinkled hand on the boy's shoulder. "Trust me, son. I've been impressed by how much you've matured since we first met." The words hit Jack like a punch in the gut, and for a moment he could not breathe. 'I've been impressed by how much you've matured since we first met'. The memory of another voice repeating the comforting phrase caught at his heart. "I, uh, thanks. Thanks, Mr. Whitefeather," Jack mumbled, discreetly wiping his eyes.

Tim kicked open the dented driver's side door and hopped out. "Stop number three!" he exclaimed, pretending not to see the tears in Jack's eyes. Whatever was wrong, he was sure the boy would tell him when he was ready. He stopped short and tipped his head to the west. Jack sent him a quizzical look as he slipped out of the cab. The Native American man climbed over the fence with a speed that belied his size. "Jack, grab my rifle out the backseat and meet me on that rise," he said in a low voice, pointing out a scrub-covered hill. Jack did as he was told, slinging the old 30-30 across his back and hurrying to catch up.

Mr. Whitefeather crouched at the top of the rise. "Listen!" he hissed. Jack strained his ears, trying to tune out the wind. Then he heard it: the distinctive yelping of coyotes. "What's a rout doing this close at this time of day?" he whispered. Tim shook his head. "Something's spooked them." He pointed down the range to where the pack of feral canines could just barely be seen. "See that big one with the short tail?" Tim gestured to what was clearly the alpha male of the rout. "He leads most of the chicken coop raids—not much startles him." Jack shifted uncomfortably and passed the rifle to Mr. Whitefeather. He had a suspicion of what might've scared the coyotes, he only hoped it didn't come their way. The two men sheltered in the brush watching the agitated dogs for a moment longer.

Suddenly, Jack jerked in surprise. "What the—?" He pointed at a sleek black shape moving among the rocks. Tim shaded his eyes. "What? I don't see..." He trailed off. "Jack, get back in the truck and cover your ears." His voice was hard as flint. The boy practically slid down the hill and waited next to the cab. The roar of a gunshot echoed across the desert land and Mr. Whitefeather came hurrying down after. "Told you to get in the truck!" he growled. "What if you'd needed help?" Jack argued. Tim relented slightly, but pushed the boy into the cab all the same. "New plan: lock down the barn," he sighed, "The last thing we need is a jaguar around here."

"Jaguars don't live in Nevada!" Jack pointed out. The older man chuckled dryly. "Neither do giant falcons and white lions." Jack took the hint and said no more. He silently planned to ask Airazor to check out the ranch later, to make sure the "jaguar" wasn't really a Ravage-type Predacon. The chickens were far from pleased at being moved into the barn, and the buffalo wasn't especially thrilled either. Jack winced as some particularly peeved poultry expressed their displeasure with him. "Ow! Ow, stop it!" he grumbled, "I know you don't like it in here, but it's for your own good!" After several lacerations, all ten chickens were shoved into wire cages under the loft stairs.

Jack glanced at his watch. He had about twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet the others at Outpost Omega. Tim caught the gesture and nodded. "Yeah, I know. A boy's got to have some sort of social life." His lips quirked upward a moment, then fell again. "But I don't want you riding back to town on that ten-speed while that cat's out there—and I think your mother will agree with me!" Reluctantly, the boy consented and Mr. Whitefeather drove him back to the edge of town. "Tell your mom to let the neighbors know we've got a displaced big cat hanging around. I'll keep an eye on the desert area for awhile." Jack hopped out at the stop sign. "Be careful," he said quietly. Tim laughed. "That's my line!" The red truck shifted into gear and pulled back out into the desert towards the ranch.

Jack slipped his cellphone from his pocket and dialed quickly. "Hey, Airazor? Yeah, it's me. Can I get a Bridge?"


Black feathers fluttered like a tattered cloak as Starscream paced. "That I shall have my revenge is unquestioned," he snarled, "All that remains to be seen is how it shall be enacted!" Terrorsaur tipped his ungainly helm to the side, watching him. "You still mad about Galvatron beating you up?" The former's voice grew syrupy sweet. "What? Oh, why no! No, my dear Terrorsaur, whatever made you think that?" Starscream ground his denta. "No, no. I was referring to those accursed Maximals and their filthy little pet!" Talons clenched and unclenched. Terrorsaur was no blabber-beak, but Starscream still didn't trust him enough to outright plot against Galvatron in his presence.

"Wazzzzzpinator not like Maximalzzz!" a third Predacon declared. Terrorsaur and Buzz Saw nodded. "Mech, you said a mouthful!" Buzz Saw agreed.

"Yeah, I hate Maximals! They're so pushy!" Terrorsaur pitched in.

"And smelly!"

"And boy are they uuuuugly!" The two finished in a paroxysm of laughter.

Starscream groaned and massaged his temples. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he sighed. Having garnered their attention, he swaggered into their midst. "I don't suppose any only you would care to show those Maximals who's boss?" The others shifted in the dark, uncomfortable. "Well, Lord Galvatron never ordered—" Buzz Saw was interrupted. "Lord Galvatron need never know!" Starscream patted his shoulder reassuringly. "It's not as if you'd be doing anything he told you not to do!"

Just as the lights began to come on in their optics, the crafty mech changed tactics. "Then again, perhaps not. After all, what are a few Predacons to a whole gang of Maximals? No, out of the question! It's simply too risky!" Terrorsaur bridled at the unspoken criticism. "Hey! You saying we couldn't take 'em?!" The feathered schemer paced, seemingly ill at ease. "Oh dear me no! I certainly wasn't questioning your bravery, or your skill! But Jasper, Nevada is no place for winged things—oops!" He clapped his servos to his mouth. "Oh dear, I've said too much!"

"Jazzzper, eh?" Waspinator rubbed his hands together and fluttered his wings. "Comrades," Starscream said in a tone of feigned concern, "Promise me you won't go down there without permission! Why, if something were to happen to you, I simply couldn't forgive myself!" Buzz Saw elbowed Waspinator and winked at Terrorsaur. "Suuure! We promise. No worries, 'Scream." They backed out of the chamber, chuckling. Starscream kept the caring expression in his faceplate until they'd left. "Fools!" he cackled, "That ought to keep them out of my feathers for a while. Now, "master", for you!"

In the darkest corner of the ceiling, a wide pair of purple optics observed dispassionately. For half a moment, the light from the doorway caught the shimmer of the Scraplet's golden frame, but it quickly scuttled out of sight. It's optics glowed brighter than ever as it felt its Master enter its mind. Fools indeed, Galvatron mused, Yet their punishment shall not be so severe as yours will, my dear Starscream, should you attempt to bring your plans to fruition!


Lake Priscilla was normally a calm and peaceful place, tucked away in the pine forests of Jasper, Nevada. Anyone traveling through the town would see the flat, dusty desert area and decide that there was nothing much to see. Anyone on the highway might catch a glimpse of it from an overpass, but there were no roads to it. Lake Priscilla was secluded and private, the perfect place for thought.

Well, not today.

Wet, bare feet slapped the rock as a small figure dashed up the hill and launched himself out over the water with a wild cry. Raf came up for air, laughing. "Come on in, guys!" he shouted to the two young Maximals on the shore, "The water's great!" He failed to tell them that "great" actually meant "freezing cold."

"Alright, if you insist!" Break waddled delicately to the end of the rock, then transformed into robot mode and backed up to give himself a running start. Stampy, who was nowhere near as confident as Break about swimming, looked from the penguin to the lake and yelped. "No no no no! If you jump, it's gonna—" Kersplash! A tidal wave roared out of the pond and over the reluctant rabbit. Break and Raf howled with glee at the soaked youngling glaring at them. "You guys had better hope this water's sanitary!" Stampy grumbled, but all the same he waded in to join the other two. Rafael clambered up onto Stampy's shoulder. "Cowabunga!" he whooped, flinging himself back into the lake. Before long, a fully-fledged splash war had begun between the three of them. Hardly thinking of there being danger in the water, they fooled around and played at holding their breath for as long as possible. They never dreamed that they were being watched by a pair of scheming eyes.


Miko adjusted her goggles and peered down over Airazor's wings. "So, why am I out here again?" the girl asked. Beneath her, the falcon snorted. "What, are you only Polar Claw's friend? Come on! We need some girl time!" Miko shrugged. "Fair point. Back home, I'm just used to Arcee only hanging out with me when Bulkhead was there. She's a little stand-offish if ya know what I mean." Airazor blinked. "Well, I never met Arcee, so I can't say I know what you mean. Still," she tucked her wings close to her body and tilted into a dive, wringing an ecstatic whoop from her passenger, "If I were her, I'd take advantage of having someone around who understands femme stuff." For a while, neither one spoke as they whirled through the clouds over the desert with the wind whistling admiringly around them.

"I think that's the ranch, down there!" Miko shouted, pointing. Airazor circled lower, coasting on the breeze. "Hey, I know this place!" she remarked, "I stole a chicken from this guy once." The massive bird of prey snickered a little. "Don't tell Jack about that." The human girl laughed as well, leaning close to the falcon's neck. "Speaking of Jack, if he's the one who saw a battle-Ravage thing, why isn't he out here?" Airazor swooped low over the henhouse and the barn, mildly disappointed that no chickens were outside. "The rancher thinks Jack is back in town, Miko. What if he were to come outside and see him? He'd have all kinds of questions Jack couldn't answer. This way, if he looks up, he'll see a girl riding on a hawk and dismiss it as fantasy." The falcon's primary feathers grasped at the air around them and she spread her wings wide. The pair glided over the ranch and down to the pass of rocks were the coyotes had been seen.

Landing, Airazor transformed, sending Miko to the ground with a thump. The femme frowned. "Something doesn't feel right out here," she murmured. Miko slid down the hill, sending a cascade of smaller rocks tumbling before her. "Whoa!" the girl cried, "Check out these prints!" She whipped her cellphone out of her pocket and began taking photos of the large paw prints. Airazor leaned down to examine the trail. "Well, there's the rout of coyotes, for certain." She straightened up and shaded her optics. "I imagine they're hiding in a hole or cave or something around here." She knelt again and traced her servos around the other set of tracks. "This is big all right, but it's not battle-Ravage big. If I were to guess, I'd say this fellow came up through Arizona, and probably Mexico before that." The femme and the girl both shuddered suddenly and Miko looked around warily. "Too bad it wasn't a 'Con. I'd love to see a smackdown! Still...how big did you say that jaguar was?"

"Big enough that we probably don't want to be on the ground right now." Airazor answered, transforming. The human teen grimaced and hoisted herself up onto the feathery back. "Riiight. Well, now what?" The Maximal's voice was teasing as she flapped her wings and rose off the ground. "I don't know, I thought I might dye some of my feathers to match your hair!" Miko was certainly enthusiastic about the idea, and Airazor wondered if she hadn't opened a can of worms. She briefly caught sight of the jaguar as they left the range, and her concern grew. If the predators of the region were being driven out into the daylight in varying states of discomfort, something was coming.

Something big.


Jack looked around the main chamber cautiously. There seemed to be no sign of Apache, or any other Maximal for that matter, but he wasn't taking any chances. Carefully, he made his way to the main console screen and climbed up onto the control panel. "Okay," he let out the breath he'd been holding. "Galvatron...Galvatron, let's see..." The computer wasn't too far removed from the one in the base from his home dimension, though some of the keys were unfamiliar to him. It didn't take the boy too long to find the file relegated to the Predacon tyrant. "Scrap," he muttered, "It would be written in Cybertronian." Sighing, Jack began the painstaking process of translating the document. He was nowhere near as proficient at the language as Rafael seemed to be, and Miko only ever picked up swear words, so she was no help.

He sat cross-legged on the console, chin propped on his fists as he struggled through the first paragraph about Galvatron's rise to power. There seemed to be a great deal of information about the colony worlds, rather than Cybertron itself. Jack shrugged. Maybe Galvatron had decided to start small and move his way up towards bigger things? He was so focused on his reading that he never heard Apache enter the room. "Great Seasons!" the voice startled Jack so badly that he fell backwards off the console and barely managed to grab the edge before hitting the floor. The medic stormed over and shut down the screen. "You're not supposed to be in here, looking at that!" he scolded, picking the boy up by the collar, "What, you want to give yourself nightmares for weeks?" Jack scowled at the mandrill. "I thought it would be useful to know something about the enemy!" he argued. The gold faceplate crinkled in a mixture of outrage and disbelief. "Why would you want to know anything about that wretch? It isn't as though you'll ever be fighting him!"

Jack dangled from his grasp with his arms crossed over his chest. "You don't know that I won't. No war is predictable! What if Predacons were to wander through the streets of Jasper tomorrow? Would you expect us to wait patiently for the Maximals to arrive?" Apache huffed indignantly and stumped away from the computer, still holding Jack by the collar. "Of course I would! You're humans for the Allspark's sake! You're not equipped to fight Predacons—" He broke off suddenly as an idea blossomed in his mind. "You're not equipped to fight..." he murmured. He opened his hand and let Jack fall. The boy's shirt caught on a branch in the nearby tree and he swung there helplessly. "Run along, you young rip. Stay out of my laboratory!" he scolded, and with that he wandered off, muttering about "equipping". "Hey!" Jack shouted after him, "Aren't you going to help me down?" No answer was forthcoming. Jack remained halfway up the tree for several minutes, then a warm voice snapped him out of his grumbling thoughts.

"You appear to have upset the delicate internal balance of our medic." Lio Convoy watched him in beast mode. His voice was stern, but there was a twinkle in his optics. Jack's cheeks burned. "I was just curious," he mumbled. The massive lion stepped forward and nudged the boy gently with his nose, knocking him out of the tree. Lio moved quickly, catching the teen on his back. Jack slid to the ground, embarrassed. The lion regarded him silently, but said nothing. Jack tried not to squirm. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he ducked his head between his shoulders. Golden eyes bored into blue for what seemed like hours before the Convoy spoke. "Walk with me." Jack swallowed hard, but dared not refuse. He hurried to keep up with the giant Maximal as they left the room and began to wander the corridors of the base. "Tell me, Jack: why do you wish to learn about Galvatron?" Lio asked quietly. Startled by the sudden conversation, Jack stuttered for a few moments before answering. "I...I just thought that...um..." he blushed and pulled a hand down over his face. "I wanted to know as much as possible in case I ever have the misfortune of meeting him." "I see." They walked in silence for several moments more, leaving the corridors and coming to an open courtyard that certainly hadn't been there in the Autobot version of the base. Jack waited for him to say that humans had no chance against the Emperor of Destruction and that he needn't bother himself with matters that did not concern him, but Lio said none of these things.

His optics held a faraway look when he asked, "Did you mark the scar upon his chest?" Jack nodded. "I did, sir." The lion padded softly over the loose earth of the garden-like area. "It may be the only thing that keeps him from attacking us," Lio Convoy sounded ever-so-slightly incredulous, as if he wasn't sure he ought to believe his own words. The human was fascinated. "How did he get it?" he asked, hurrying to catch up. The Maximal shook his mane. "It was on a colony world," he began, and Jack closed his eyes, trying to picture it. "I believe it was one of Praxis's satellites, in fact. Galvatron had been steadily gaining ground across the galaxy. Wherever he and his horde traveled, cities fell before them, and they never spared the lives of those who opposed them." The lion's jaw worked soundlessly for a moment as he remembered coming upon the dismembered bodies of those who had resisted the foul Predacon. "The Maximal Council received the reports of the massacre two days after he had landed, and they sent a unit to investigate."

"Hey, Cub! Grab that scanner and get over here!" The older warrior glared at the rookie intimidatingly. "Right! Sorry!" the young warrior grinned easily and hurried to join the rest of his patrol. Leatherhide gave him a sour look and moved down the line. "Alright you lot, our mission is surveillance only at this point. We already know Galvatron is somewhere on the planet, our job is to find out where and transmit his coordinates to the rest of the unit." The young soldiers were brimming with excitement. For most of them, this was their first time out in the field, and each one was secretly hoping for a chance to test his mettle on the battlefield. The bad-tempered crocodile split them into two teams. When he came to the youngling with the scanner, he crossed his arms. "Lio Cub, you and your ilk are with me." The young lion winced. Grand. Stuck with the one commander who hated kids more than anyone else!

From the second team, Apache shot him a sympathetic glance before heading for the ridge. Leatherhide's group moved quietly down into the jungle, scanning for spark signatures. Suddenly, the air turned cold. Lio's ears twitched. "Something's wrong!" the young lion hissed. The giraffe beside him tried to tuck his neck down as low as possible. "Yeah, I can feel it too." Without warning, the sky overhead grew black, and thunder rolled in the distance. "It's just a thunderstorm!" Leatherhide snapped, "Grow a backstrut, ya sparklings!" Dive huddled closer to Longrack and Lio. "I don't think this is just a thunderstorm!" he whispered to them. Lio frowned at the frog. "Me neither." The thunder rumbled closer, and for a moment the Maximals could have sworn that they heard cruel laughter. Suddenly, their internal comms all buzzed at once.

Leatherhide's long snout twisted in displeasure. "Team 2 is under attack!" he snarled, "We're going to back them up!" They cleared the forest with rapidity and soon came upon a scene that would haunt the dreams of the survivors for many years. Nearly blending in with the bruised sky, a vast figure strode down the mountainside, crushing trees beneath his pedes. In one hand, he held a massive magma blade that provided the only light on the slaughter taking place. The Maximals were no match for him, and most fled before him, screaming. Dive quaked next to Lio. "Oh my Allspark!" he whimpered, "Is that Unicron? Mech, I really wish I'd paid more attention in the Sages classes!" Leatherhide pushed past them and transformed into robot mode. "Weapons at the ready!" he shouted, then, raising his mace, he charged into the fray.

Lio Cub came to a very swift, very important conclusion: being higher in rank did not necessarily make one wiser. He transformed and held up a sheet of rock to shield himself and his teammates when Galvatron idly threw half of their commanding officer at them. "Is this the best you can do?" the mighty dragon yawned theatrically. "You begin to bore me, Maximals!" Lio clenched his fists and growled. "No! Don't!" Longrack tried to hold the Cub-rank soldier back, but Lio shook his hand off. "We can't just stand here and do nothing! Our friends are going to die!" the young lion drew his sword and darted out from the trees. "Galvatron!" he shouted. The titanic Predacon turned slowly to face him, and his nerve nearly failed him. He hadn't really thought beyond this point. Galvatron raised an eyebrow at the small figure. "Yes?" he asked mockingly.

Apache broke from his group and ran to stand at his friend's side. "I don't know what you're doing, Lio," he said, "But as we're all about to die anyway, I think I'd rather die following you than running." The Cub tossed him a feral grin and Apache began firing at Galvatron's optics. None of the shots actually did any damage, of course, but it gave Lio time to think. He looked down and saw beneath the giant's pede the broken frame of one of the other Cubs, Botanica. His optics diffused into blue and all he could see was the energon coating the field. "Lio!" Apache stared at the light beginning to pour from the lion's body. Galvatron bent down in interest. It proved to be a costly mistake. With a long, inarticulate scream, Lio drew back his fist and a ball of energy gathered around it. "ENOUGH!" he drove his fist forward into the Predacon's chest, knocking the dragon back in the ensuing shock wave.

Galvatron skidded several yards, completely clearing the trees as he hit them. He landed, winded and unable to move, and stared in disbelief at the ragged wound across his spark chamber. Longrack and Dive hurried to support Lio, who had begun to collapse. "How did you do that?!" Apache marveled. "I...I didn't know I could," the lion replied. As the surviving Maximals activated stasis cuffs on Galvatron's arms and legs, a smile tugged at his faceplate. "At last," he was heard to mutter, "A worthy opponent!"

Jack was so entranced by the story that he hardly realized that they had stopped walking, and were back in the main chamber again. "You gave him that scar?" he breathed in awe, "Were you scared?" Lio Convoy nodded. "Absolutely terrified." Jack smiled. "I kind of thought so—not that I think you're scared of him!" he quickly backpedaled. The lion's huge muzzle pushed at him playfully. "I know what you meant, young one. Anyone who faces Galvatron without a shred of fear does not know their own peril." The boy scoffed. "Yeah. He's a lot scarier than Megatron—something I never thought I'd say." Warm golden optics watched him with curiosity. "I keep forgetting that you do not belong to this world, Jackson." There seemed to be a trace of sadness in the statement. "The very idea of a human—let alone a human child—coming face to face with the Old Tyrant of the legends staggers the imagination."

Jack scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, that first time was an accident. I mean, I didn't know he was trapped in the same mine we were!" Lio Convoy responded with a low chuckle that left Jack's bones rattling. Suddenly, Apache sidled over and snatched Jack. "Pardon me, Convoy! I need to borrow the lad for a moment!" Ignoring Jack's protests and Lio's irritated rumble, the medic hustled over to his workbench. What appeared to be either a backpack or a giant turtle shell lay on the table. "Here, try that on," Apache ordered. Jack sent Lio Convoy a pleading look, but the lion only shrugged. When Apache was in an inventing mood, there was little that could be done to stop him. Jack sighed and shrugged on the shell. "Hmm...too large, a little too large I'd say." The medic jotted quickly typed up his finding into the computer. "Right, thank you Jack. That's all I need for now!" He gently deposited the boy to the floor just as Break's panicked voice echoed over the intercoms. "Hey! Maximal Base, this is Break. We've got a situation!"