Part 3

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The road from the interstate stretched for a while without turns. This is the road Lars had driven on so many times that he had entered that quiet state of mind, where the road becomes a blur and the sleepy monotonous commute is so integrated to muscle memory, that the radio becomes the only sort of stimulus. Lars would remember something through the KGYN about foreign invaders, the kind of political buzz that scored points for pundits and news jockeys. It was just a regular Monday and Lars wondered if the mail delivery man would forget where his address was again.

When Lars pulled up his Chevy, he realized his discount video store was no longer standing in the same place on the street. He was still holding the keys to unlock the door in his hand when he realized the whole city block was gone. He had driven the whole route without noticing. A long, cold shadow loomed overhead, covering an area the size of a football field. And now he saw his collectible store, it was a moving part inside the leg of an immense walking dinosaur. Lars dropped his Starbucks and hopped back in his Chevy. He switched the transmission in reverse and drove off in a cloud of dust.

"Well done, minions," Trypticon said. The Titan's spotlight eyes passed over Full-Tilt and Brunt. They stood, waiting at his feet. "I assume Megatron's been deposed. Hshah."

Brunt and Full-Tilt looked at each other.

"Well… about that," Full-Tilt said. "Galvatron's in command now."

Trypticon brought his claws closer to his snout to look at them. "No matter. Shruh." He squeezed them, and the hinges groaned. Dust and metal flaked off and fell. He then jostled side to side, feeling the rickety strain of Earth's skyscrapers, roads and foundations within his legs. "Where is this?"

Full-Tilt and Brunt felt their chests shake from his rumbling voice.

"Earth," Brunt said.

"Earth? Spah." Trypticon turned his head 180 degrees to examine the landscape. "This is just a husk of dust. I feel dust in my veins. It's choking. Csuh. My throat is dry." He clawed at his bulging neck. Cables dangled from his jaw.

"Metroplex is here," Brunt said.

"Yes. Inevitably. Hruh." Trypticon raised his snout. "I smell… something. Shuh." He turned his head north. "Metroplex will be dealt with. But for now…" The reptile took a step forward. He nearly toppled over. The wreck would have been devastating, but his body stayed upright. He groaned. A few more steps and he had the hang of his new body. Then, swinging his tail southward, Trypticon started marching from where the devastated metropolis zone, Trycounty City, used to be.

Cyclonus and Megatron had felt the thundering footsteps. They were in the underground caverns planning battle formations with the Constructicons when the earthquakes began to rumble and bits of earth showered over their equipment.

"What's that?" Galvatron said.

The group of Decepticons rushed to the surface as another footstep made the ground shake.

"Lord Galvatron… misfortunes plague us." Cyclonus said. "Trypticon's on the move!"

"I can see that for myself," Galvatron said, hissing the words out. He pointed towards the reptile head. "Find out who's controlling him." It was a command that Cyclonus should take to the air.

Cyclonus transformed into a violet and blue fighter craft leaping off the crater's edge and zoomed to Trypticon's left ear. He circled the walking beast a couple times, peering into the orange-yellow eyes.

"Galvatron?"

"Cyclonus. Report."

"Trypticon appears unmanned. His pupils track me with keen interest. I would swear he's become aware."

"No…" Galvatron muttered. "Impossible… We must prevent him from leaving, he's disrupting our plans."

"Shall I engage?"

There was a pause on the communicator.

Galvatron scoured the mountain range ahead of Trypticon's position. "No, Cyclonus. Figure out his trajectory. Where's he headed?"

"His northward trajectory might be fruitful. I shall keep you informed."

"Very well," Galvatron turned off the communicator. His head stooped, his brow darkened by his triple-prongs.

Rodimus, Arcee, Leinad and the Protectobots had retreated from the battlefield, carried away on First Aid's back. They had been taken to the Ark, the home base for the Autobots on Earth. As they passed beneath the Ark's gate, Rodimus caught Arcee's glance.

"I think she's okay now," she said. "She's just resting."

Leinad's small body was slumped, leaning on Arcee's left arm.

"As soon as I get back, I'm dedicating myself to her." He cradled her head.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"To make sure all my work on Autobot city isn't destroyed by an overgrown monitor lizard." She sighed. "Blaster needs help. The 'Cons will make their move soon."

"But what about—"

Arcee knew what he was going to say. He paused before he finished his thought.

"Nevermind." She said. "I thought maybe she'd be safer here, but I think it's best if I take her with me."

"She'll be safe here. It's not that big a deal." His voice sounded nervous. "I mean... don't get me wrong… that's not what I meant."

Arcee laid on a hand on his shoulder. "I know what you're trying to say. Rodimus, you can't take care of her." She stared at him with the soft blue light of her eyes. "Not when you have so much that demands your attention…"

Rodimus had no idea what Arcee meant, until she pointed her finger past his shoulder.

Behind him, Autobots scrambled to their emergency posts. The Ark's interior was alive with the blare of klaxons, the pulse of red and blue beacons.

Rodimus turned back. Arcee held Leinad close and took two steps from him. He gave her a wink and a knowing nod. Without wasting time on more words, she transformed into her car mode and seated Leinad. Then she wheeled about and veered to the exit tunnel, leaving Rodimus behind. Rodimus's helmet drooped. Then he took a deep breath and turned to find the command center.

Two Autobots were running back and forth on the command deck. Alerts were pouring in from all over. The computer, Teletran – 1, was running hot from running non-stop. When one emergency call was answered, another call would come a couple seconds later. The Ark was understaffed. A momentary pause came in between the calls.

"Sure wish Optimus was here," one Autobot said to the other.

"Yeah, he'd know exactly what to do."

They had forgotten Rodimus stood behind them. The two young Autobots turned around. "Oh, sorry, Rodimus! I didn't meant to—"

"It's alright, Swerve." Rodimus sighed while taking the data-pad from Swerve. "I miss him too. Any news from Metro?"

The Autobot nodded. "Without his transformation cog, Metroplex can't transform to defend himself. Trypticon will walk right over him."

Rodimus tossed aside the datapad. "That can't happen." He turned on the communicator. "Attention, Autobot City. This is Rodimus… and this is not a drill. Prepare for attack. All hands to battle stations. I repeat. This is not a drill. All hands to battle stations."

He glanced at Swerve. "Metroplex needs his cog now. Send this signal to Blaster, he needs to know the Decepticons are in full charge mode."

"Right! You got it, Rodimus." Swerved scampered off.

That made the uneasy Autobots less tense. With orders to follow, they didn't feel as hopeless as before. Everyone needed something to do. Rodimus pulled up his communicator. There was only one person he wanted to speak with now. He stepped away from the bustle of the Command Deck.

"How are ya holdin' up, Lad?" Kup's grizzled voice came out like static on the communicator. His grim grin made Rodimus smile. "Sure miss ya, old timer. I'm starting to feel that they picked the wrong bot for Optimus's old job."

"Uh huh. Listen. I know times like these are tough. But you'll learn. Take it from me. I may not be the strongest or the smartest, kid, but I've survived a whole lot. You'll survive this, trust me. Stop asking how to leader and get in there and lead. That's my best advice."

"Thanks, Kup."

Kup pointed behind his shoulder. "I've got a whole lot of twitchy trigger-finger bots on Cybertron ready to come down and fight wicha, problem is, the Space Bridge is out of commission."

"Are you saying we have reinforcements on Cybertron?"

"Yeah. Whole lotta good it'll do us, though, without the Bridge, the battle will be over before we get the troops down there."

Rodimus brought a finger to his chin. "If I can reactivate the Bridge here, will your side be functional?"

"Yeah. It sounds like there's a plan goin'."

"You ready the troops at the Bridge. And wait for my signal."

"You got it." Kup's green face became pixelated and the screen went blank.

Rodimus then called Grapple. "Grapple, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Rodimus."

"I'm going to need that Space Bridge up and running in next five minutes."

"Even with all the help I have, it'll still take at least five hours before it's fully operational."

"Make it in two hours and I'll take you to see the Eiffel Tower."

"I'll do my best, Rodimus. Grapple out."

"Rodimus." Someone was standing behind him. He had mistaken the voice. He thought it was another computer monitor behind him. First Aid had been waiting for Rodimus to finish before calling his attention.

"Sorry, F-A. What is it? Are the humans safe?"

"They are, Rodimus, we've taken them to the medical bay. But they'll do better at Autobot City. I've requested a transport to take them" His tone deepened into a serious grit. "It's not really what I called you…"

"Oh?"

First Aid tilted his head to the repair bay indicating Rodimus should follow.

Rodimus understood. "Have Swerve take over. I'll be back soon."

Rodimus was lead to the quiet repair bay. Seated on the examination table was Blades, holding himself up in a slouch.

"How are you doing, Blades?"

Blades held his shoulder, wincing when he tried to turn. "I've been better."

"The medical report looks good. It looks like you'll be back on your feet in no time."

Blades stared at the cold floor.

Rodimus rested a hand on Blade's shoulder. It felt weightless, like it had no substance, making Blades swipe it away. Rodimus stared at the Autobot. Blades had always been a difficult Autobot to work with. He only accepted his last mission when it had been demanded of him for the third time. As one of the Protectobots, he was supposed to help and aid the people in the city. Rodimus had appointed the Protectobots to Trycounty City as a show of good faith, despite the mayor's personal feelings. Blades, however never seemed to accept his responsibility. Blades always accepted being a member of his dutiful team, but it seemed to Rodimus that he loathed it. Perhaps it would have been better if Blades was on the front lines. Rodimus had seen Blades tear Decepticons apart with his… well… blades.

"You asked me to do this," Blades said.

"I did." He looked at the nasty gash on Blades, a hole had been torn vertically from his shoulder down to his thigh, a gash that could have been avoided. "I'm sorry. You're hurt. You don't have to do this anymore."

Blades took his eyes from the floor.

"I'm sorry about Streetwise," Rodimus's blue optics shuttered. "It's my fault. I can have you transferred to Cybertron if you'd like."

Blades snorted. "So I can stack supplies and rebuild Cybertron?"

Rodimus shook his head. What is it Blades wanted? Rodimus thought he was giving it to him. "I wanted you here so you could learn how to be helpful to the humans. To be part of a team."

Blades snickered. "You think every Autobot wants to be like you. Let's all make friends with the tiny flesh critters. Let them ride inside you so they can get drunk and throw up all over your interior. They just want to crawl into your backseat and be gross. I've never gotten a thank you from any I've rescued. They just expect it. They don't think about being nice to each other, so why should anybody else. I don't give a damn about the humans. If Optimus had been here…" He pointed to his torn side. "…this wouldn't have happened."

Rodimus's hands fell to his sides.

"Just stay out of my way from now on, Rodimus."

"You have your duty." Rodimus' voice came out stern. "If you want to be an Autobot, you have to be part of the team. You have to follow orders."

"Sez who?" Blades had turned to face away from Rodimus and said no more to him. Then Rodimus left Blades to cool off his hot head in the medical bay. He paused outside the hallway, bringing a finger to his lip. He looked at his scraped left arm. The fractured Autobot symbol was on the back of his arm, scratched over but visible. Back in the old days it never meant much to him. It was a required symbol, like an I.D. card. Now it felt more important. It was like a badge.

"Rodimus…" Swerve called.

What now?

"Please get to the Command Deck as soon as you can. You're not gonna like this."