Sari stood over her bed, shoving various clothes and necessities into a large suitcase. Angry tears were in her eyes as she was forced to pack up everything.
"First he takes my family's company, and now he's kicking me out of my own home?! How can Powell do this?!"
Agent Fowler handed her a few folded shirts, letting her take them before resting her hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, kid. Sadly, he now owns the building, and is well within his rights to evict you. I had to threaten him with some serious charges just to get him to let you collect your stuff."
"Well, thanks anyway, Agent Fowler. At least there's one adult I can trust here."
She finished packing her stuff, slamming the suitcase shut before just leaning on it for a moment. She hid her face in her hands, letting out a shuddering sob.
"None of this makes any sense… Why is there no record of me? I'm right here. I exist… So why did Powell's search turn up empty?"
"An excellent question," Powell commented, standing in the doorway. "One I'm afraid you'll have to ponder somewhere else. I need this space for my new R and D facility."
Sari lifted her head, turning and glaring at Powell. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead on the spot. Fowler was giving Powell a similar disgusted look.
"You are a cold, callous, shell of a human being," the agent snarled.
"It's called being a man of business, Agent Fowler. And as I told miss… well, I can't say Sumdac now can I? There's no room for sentiment in business."
"Just because there's no record that I'm Isaac Sumdac's daughter doesn't mean I'm not!" Sari proclaimed, stomping her foot hard as her face turned as red as her hair. "He raised me, and he's my father, record or not!"
Sari growled in anger before walking off with her suitcase in hand. Agent Fowler followed after her, his eyes never leaving Powell.
"Know this: I will be looking into this entire matter, and I will be keeping a very close eye on you. So you best watch your back, because when I'm done with you, there won't be enough left of you to fill a matchbox."
"I look forward to it," Powell replied nonchalantly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Powell turned his back to the pair as Sari and Fowler took the elevator down, the young child giving her now former bedroom a miserable look as the doors closed.
…
Meanwhile, Optimus Prime was at a press conference concerning the Decepticon threat. He was standing before a raised platform that allowed several news reporters to talk to him face to face.
"Citizens of Chicago," he addressed. "I know the past few months have been trying for everyone. And in the face of Megatron's threat, I understand fears can run rampant. However, rest assured that my fellow Autobots and I are still dedicated to protecting your city and this planet."
The instant he started speaking, a flurry of questions started ringing out, almost overwhelming the young Prime.
"Uh… yes, you sir," Optimus spoke, pointing to a reporter.
"Yes, where are the Decepticons now?" the reporter asked.
"We are still working on finding them. But the second we have a lead, we will act on it."
"What about those new bots that showed up before the Decepticons attacked?" another reporter asked. "Are they on our side?"
"The Cybertron Elite Guard are just as much Autobots as my own team. You can trust them."
"And yet, there have been multiple witnesses to tensions between your team and this 'Elite Guard'," the second reporter pointed out.
"The Elite Guard have a… different approach to doing things. Regardless, they are still Autobots, and they share our goal: bringing an end to the Decepticon threat. Next question."
More reporters spoke up until Optimus gestured to one.
"Optimus, care to comment on the rumors of there being a Decepticon amongst your ranks? That one of your commanding officers is in league with this 'Megatron'?"
"Arsenal is a former Decepticon and has had nothing to do with their cause in stellar cycles. She is a trusted ally and a valued friend."
"Can the same be said for the rest of the Elite Guard?" a fourth reporter chimed in. "Can they be trusted with the safety of the human race when they have shown clear disgust towards our species?"
"Yes!" another reporter exclaimed. "Is it true that these bots see us as little more than insects?"
"Uh… I'm afraid that's all the time we have right now. Thank you."
As the reporters tried to ask him more questions, Optimus transformed and rolled out of the area as fast as he could. Once he got away from the reporters, he let out a sigh of irritation.
"That went well," he let out.
His comm clicked and Ratchet's voice filled his audio receptors.
"Not bad for your first press conference. You actually managed to answer a few questions."
"How is it that the political side of being a Prime is actually more intimidating than the warrior side?"
"You're asking the wrong bot about that. Some of us weren't fortunate enough to get the spotlight when the war was over."
"Lucky. By the way, Bumblebee told me about what happened with Sari. how is she holding up?"
"We'll know once she gets here. Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and Bulkhead have been constructing her room all morning, trying to make it habitable for a human. To be honest, I'm wondering if we're up to the task of caring for her."
"We'll have to be. For her sake."
…
Fowler's car pulled up in front of the Autobot's headquarters, the agent opening the door so Sari could get out. He surveyed the building, looking a bit concerned.
"I'm still not too sure about you living in a dilapidated factory."
"It's not like you can hand me over to Child Services since I don't exist..." Sari muttered. "Besides, they're my friends. They're all I've got."
Fowler sighed, seeing the truth in that as he led her inside. He felt his concerns lessen when he saw that the interior was clean, and clearly set up to be habitable.
"Hey, Sari," Bee greeted.
The yellow scout came over to the pair, kneeling down so he was at her level. Cliff and Bulkhead both joined him, all three wearing soft expressions on their faceplates.
"How're you doing?" Bulkhead asked.
"Lousy," Sari replied, setting her suitcase on the ground. "My entire world has just come crashing down, and I don't even know where to begin..."
"I'm going to do everything in my power to get to the bottom of this," Fowler reassured.
"And in the meantime, we'll take good care of you," Bee promised. "You need anything, even if it's just a shoulder plate to leak on, we'll be there." He reached out and gently rubbed his finger on Sari's head. "You're not alone, Sari."
Sari sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she cracked a tiny smile.
"Thanks guys."
…
At Sumdac Tower, Powell sat in his office, in the midst of a phone call with Leland "Silas" Bishop, the founder of a rival robotics corporation known as MECH.
"It's good to hear from you, Silas. I'm calling with a very lucrative business opportunity."
"Is that so? Last I heard, Sumdac Systems wasn't interested in the work MECH had to offer."
"That was before someone with greater ambitions took charge. With all due respect to Professor Sumdac, God rest his soul, he was sorely mistaken when he declared the ban on military robotics.
"I couldn't agree more. MECH's cutting edge military advances have saved countless soldiers lives, and netted us quite a profit at the same time. I have always wondered what could be done were we to have Sumdac Systems' resources though."
"Well, wonder no more. I'm opening up a new R and D department specifically for weapons development, and I want to partner with MECH to do it. I can offer you copies of Professor Sumdac's records of Megatron, as well as-"
"I want more than records of a severed head. No… I want one of them, whole and online."
Powell paused for a minute, his confident facade fading somewhat.
"That… will be a difficult item to acquire."
"Do not worry. I can handle the acquisition process. I merely need Sumdac's facilities on standby for when I do."
"That can be arranged."
"Well then, seems like this partnership is already off to a glorious start."
…
Across the city, in a military-grade facility, Silas hung up the phone and turned to his computer. He then opened up a file, bringing up surveillance footage of every single Autobot. As he looked them over, one of his scientists, a Dr. Thaddeus Morocco, came to join him.
"I take it that the partnership is in the works?"
"Indeed," Silas confirmed. "The opportunity we've been waiting for has come at last. Now, all we need is to decide which bot to use as our model."
"My personal preference would be one with actual fighting experience. From what I've seen in the news, almost all of the original Autobots lack the proper training. The flyer is the only warrior, but her flight capacity will make pinning her down nigh impossible."
"Then one of the newer arrivals then. I can work with that."
He tapped on the keyboard for a bit until only the Elite Guard's images were available. Silas' eyes fell on Ultra Magnus first, the footage of him taking out all the security drones playing on screen.
"This one here, his power is unlike any of the others we've seen."
"Indeed," Dr. Thaddeus agreed. "However, he rarely if ever ventures out of that massive ship, and their shields are impenetrable by currently available means."
"Alright, then move on."
Silas moved onto Jazz, watching his fighting style with a keen eye.
"While this one does display some combat talent, what we require is something with a bit more firepower."
"How about this one?" Thaddeus pointed at a screen showing Ironhide, who was showing off all his guns as he fought against the Decepticons.
"He is powerful, but a bit too experienced. A war veteran if I had to guess. Doubt we'll be able to get the drop on him."
"That only leaves us with two then. The red racer, and the blue snowplow."
"The racer is clearly a scout, made for speed and evasion. Now the snowplow, that one clearly has power, and some impressive weaponry, but lacks the ability to work well with others." Silas laced his fingers together, eyes narrowing as he looked at the picture of Sentinel. "Yes… I think he'll do quite nicely."
...
Meanwhile, onboard the Elite Guard's ship, Optimus met with the Elite Guard, sans Cliffjumper. Ironhide, Jazz, and Ultra Magnus all stood at attention before their Prime, with Sentinel leaning against the wall with an annoyed, angry look.
"Have there been any more sightings of Allspark fragments?" Optimus asked.
"Negative," Jazz reported. "Those things are elusive, and definitely well hidden."
"If we're going to find these shards before the Decepticons, then we're going to need to expand our search," Ironhide declared. "We can't just wait for another incident to happen. Too many Organics could get hurt."
"Agreed," Optimus confirmed. "We should set up search patterns throughout the city. Scanners dialed up for high energy signatures comparable to the Allspark itself."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sentinel interjected. "You're making it sound like we're all heading out into the field. This organic nest is your turf, Orion, and last time I checked, we're Elite Guard High command, not scouts."
"Well, my usual scouts are taking care of our new charge, so you've just been promoted."
"Oh right, your little pet Organic." Sentinel rolled his optics, crossing his servos. "As much as it pains me to admit it, you're our Prime now, Orion. You need to stop focusing on these disgusting organic bugs and focus on your people."
"I was tasked to protect all people, robotic and organic. That is what Autobots are meant to do."
"What we're meant to do is preserve Cybertron and protect our people."
"Oh boy..." Jazz muttered, rubbing his visor. "Here we go again..."
"I know what my responsibilities are! And I don't need you constantly berating me on how I carry them out!"
"Well the last time you had responsibility like this, Elita-1 went offline, so excuse me for being skeptical of your ability to perceive our best interests!"
"That's quite enough, Sentinel!" Ultra Magnus stepped in. "You will go out into the city and begin patrol. Do not return until you are summoned back."
Sentinel clenched his fist before heading off.
"Fine!" Sentinel relented, brushing past Optimus as he left.
He transformed, zooming out of the ship as Optimus sat down, rubbing his faceplate.
"He is never going to respect me..."
"Sentinel's pride is well mounted," Magnus lamented. "He will come around in time."
"I highly doubt that," Optimus replied. "There's too much bad energon between us."
"You could always send him to the molten mines on Chaar," Jazz commented. "That could take the fight out of him."
"Tempting…" Optimus considered. "But I think a few cycles on Earth will hopefully mellow him out."
"I'll admit, these organics are pretty interesting," Ironhide spoke up, "but unless they somehow manage to take down a full fledged warrior, I doubt Sentinel will ever give them more than a cursory snub."
"Sadly…"
…
Out in the city, Sentinel continued driving aimlessly, grumbling to himself about Optimus and his choices in leadership.
"Lousy repair bot. No business leading us. No leader of mine. If I had my way…"
As he continued talking to himself, he was unaware he was being watched by some dark-clothed men on various rooftops.
"Sir, we have a visual. Target is heading East down Budiansky."
"Proceed with extraction."
…
As Sentinel rounded a corner, he transformed and pulled a stop sign out of his shoulder plate.
"They really need to stop putting these things at every corner," Sentinel remarked, flicking it away.
As he began walking away, the men in black started getting into position. As they did, one man accidentally kicked a can in an alleyway. Hearing this, Sentinel spun around, his shield and lance at the ready.
"Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"
As Sentinel looked around for any sign of the source of the noise, five men in black took positions on surrounding rooftops, readying five specialized devices.
"Spectre one in position."
"Spectre two in position."
"Spectre three in position."
"Spectre four in position."
"Spectre five in position."
"Now!"
All five men activated their devices at the same time, causing them to power up. They each then shot out a wave of red energy, which shot out and engulfed Sentinel. He cried out in pain as his optics turned to static, his spark racing from the excess energy. After a minute, the energy died and Sentinel crumbled to the ground, his systems forced into stasis to begin repairs.
"Target is down," Spectre one reported. "Repeat, target is down."
"Excellent. Transport is on its way. Prepare the target for extraction."
The five men quickly made their way down to the ground and secured Sentinel's limbs and torso in heavy duty straps.
…
In the skies nearby, Arsenal was doing some aerial reconnaissance, keeping her scanners primed for Allspark Energy. As she completed a circuit and prepared for a secondary sweep, she caught sight of a large helicopter taking off from ground. Instinctively fearing Decepticons, Arsenal moved in on the copter, keeping just out of radar range as she tried to find a spark signature.
"It's not the dual propeller that Megatron went with," she said to herself. "Maybe Black Arachnia?"
As the helicopter flew up higher, she spotted a familiar figure being air-lifted. Had she been in robot mode, her optics would have gone wide.
"Sentinel? What in..."
She quickly took off after the helicopter, which was quickly noted by those onboard.
"Sir, we have a bogie," the pilot reported. "The flyer."
"Take her out. We can't afford any setbacks right now."
Two of the Spectre troops quickly readied their EMP devices and aimed them out towards Arsenal. They quickly activated them, causing the same red energy to shoot out and engulf her. Her engines cut out, causing her to crash towards the street. She skidded hard across the asphalt, transforming as she did before finally hitting a lamp post. It bent as she hit, leaving her a groaning, barely online mess. Servos shaking, she activated her comms.
"Autobots… we have… a bot… down..."
Her arm then fell as she dropped into stasis mode, her system crashing.
…
Sometime later, Arsenal's optics started to flicker on, finding herself still in the street where she fell. Ratchet was hovering over her, giving her a scan before reaching for his tools.
"You've got skid marks all over you, and a pretty nasty dent in your headcase, but I'm not detecting any internal damage, or software corruption."
"Lucky me..."
Optimus approached her, looking concerned.
"What happened? Who did this?"
"Humans..."
"Humans? Why would humans attack us?"
"You mean aside from Meltdown and Nanosec?" Ratchet reminded the young Prime.
"These weren't like those two… they were organized, and well armed. They had an EMP that was strong enough to scramble my systems,"
"They're specially trained and equipped," Optimus recognized.
"Optimus…" Arsenal reached up, grabbing Optimus' arm. "They took Sentinel."
"What?"
"They were carrying him away. I tried to stop them but…"
Optimus removed her hand from his arm.
"You did your best, and that's all we can ask for." He straightened up, facing Ratchet. "Can you get her back to base on your own?"
"I'll see if Bulkhead can spare a bit to help me," Ratchet replied. "But I have to ask… are you really gonna stick your neck cables out for Sentinel? After all the scrap he's given you."
"Believe me, part of me wants to leave Sentinel out to rust… but, I have a duty to protect all Cybertronians. Even the ones I don't like. Arsenal, did you see any markings or logos on the craft that took Sentinel? Anything to help us start looking?"
"There was an acronym on the copter. It read 's all I've got."
"It's a start. Thanks."
With that shred of information, Optimus transformed and drove off.
"Going off with a shred of intel to save the skid plate of a bot who hates his circuits," Arsenal commented. "Optimus continues to baffle and amaze me."
…
Back at Autobot Base, Sari was curled up in a small blanket burrito on Bulkhead's lap. The two were watching one of Sari's favorite cartoons, the large bot trying to make his friend feel better.
"Hey, this is a pretty great show," Bulkhead commented.
"Yeah, I guess…" Sari let out.
Bulkhead glanced down at her, venting softly. Across the room, Cliff and Bumblebee were talking quietly.
"Man, I hate seeing her like this," Bee lamented.
"How do we even fix this?" Cliff questioned. "I mean, she's an organic sparkling, and we're soldiers."
"Prowl said the best thing to do for her would be to just listen and be there," Bee recalled. "Still, it just doesn't feel like enough."
"Trust me, kid," Fowler called as he entered the building, "it is. Humans aren't like machines. We can't be fixed overnight, or have our problems erased like bad code. It takes time for us to heal, especially from emotional pain. Sari will be fine, I promise."
"I hope so. Hey, what's in the bag?"
Fowler held up a fair sized grocery sack he was carrying.
"Figured you bots didn't have human food, so I decided to stop by and deliver some basic meals."
"Thanks. We were concerned about that."
Fowler shrugged, then walked over to the couch so he could check on Sari. He reached into the bag, pulling out some pre-made food and handing it to her.
"Here, eat up. Get your strength up so you can show that gutter snake Powell that he can't beat you."
"Not hungry..." Sari muttered, burrowing deeper into her blanket cocoon,
"Come now, we both know that's a lie." Fowler set the food aside, gently pulling some of the blanket aside. "You can't wallow like this forever. I know you're hurt and confused, but if you don't try and pick yourself up, nothing's gonna change."
Sari just grabbed the blanket back and rolled over. Fowler sighed and got up, giving the bots a helpless shrug.
…
Meanwhile, Sentinel slowly began regaining his senses, his optics flipping on to see that he was in some sort of large warehouse. He was laid out on a massive work table, with his limbs clamped down with heavy duty magnets. He attempted to pull himself free, but he couldn't even move.
"Release me you organic parasites!" Sentinel demanded. "I am an Elite Guard officer!"
"And I have no idea what that means," Silas declared as he stepped into Sentinel's view, "nor do I particularly care."
"What do you want?"
"I already have everything that I want. Begin scan."
Something above Sentinel powered on and the large bot was bathed in the rays of a full body scanner. Sentinel flinched a bit, tensing his frame as if the futile action would prevent the scan. As this was going on, several scientists were already taking thorough examinations of his shield and lance mods, both of which were lying on a table, well out of reach. Sentinel saw his weapons, his optics going wide when he saw them.
"Keep your filthy servos off my weapons!"
"You're in no position to make demands," Silas reminded. "You are ours to do with as you please."
"You think you pathetic organics can actually hurt me?"
"The fact that we captured you, and quite easily I must point out, says that we can."
As Silas walked off, Sentinel began trying to figure out a way to get free. He tried pulling some more, but sharp pain in his wrist joints quickly dissuaded him from that course of action. He then closed his optics and tried his comms, surprised to find them still working. Barely able to keep the smirk off his faceplate, he sent out a distress beacon, crossing his digits that it would be received in time.
…
Out in the city, Optimus continued driving around as he placed a call into the base.
"Hey boss bot," Bumblebee greeted. "What's up?"
"Sentinel's been taken."
"That's great! I mean… no, I meant what I said, that's great!"
"I'm still going to save him, Bumblebee. Is Agent Fowler there?"
"Yeah he is. You do remember that Sari added his phone to our comms, right?"
"Been a little busy," Optimus replied before switching over to a different frequency to call Fowler. "Agent Fowler?"
"I'm here Prime. What can I do for you?"
"I need information on something called MECH."
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
"Why do you need to know about MECH?"
"They have one of my people?"
Fowler cursed under his breath.
"MECH is a robotics company that specializes in military grade armaments. They hold the monopoly on unmanned weaponry, tactical AIs, and just about every piece of tech that could be used for war. However, it's been long rumored that they've done deals with countries outside of the US, including some rather volatile enemies. Sadly, no evidence has come forth to prove these rumors true, but they're unsettling nonetheless."
"And I don't want to think about what they can do with Cybertronian technology."
Just then, Optimus' comms started beeping, forcing him to stop and transform to decipher it.
"What on Cybertron…"
"What is it?"
"An encrypted distress beacon. It has to be Sentinel."
"How can you be sure?"
"It's on the same frequency we used back in boot camp in case any of us ever got in trouble. Usually him."
"Surprised he didn't ping everyone if he's in trouble."
"No doubt he's hoping to save face in front of Ultra Magnus."
"But he doesn't care if you see him. Kind of ironic, given you outrank Magnus now."
"Not in his optics."
Optimus listened in close to the code, deciphering its meaning.
"He's in a warehouse… surrounded by organics… who are trying to dismantle him!"
"Prime, you need to find that big-chinned bot now! The last thing we need are a bunch of man-made Autobots tearing the planet apart!"
"Come on Sentinel, I need a location," Optimus said to himself as he beeped a code back to Sentinel.
…
Upon hearing the code, Sentinel looked around for any indicators of his location. Almost everything was dark, but through the machinery noises, he could make out the sound of water nearby. He returned the code, declaring he was near water, and that was all he knew. As he sent it out, one of the techs looking him over went wide-eyed.
"Outgoing signal detected!"
"What?!" Silas let out. "Scramble it, now!"
Sentinel's comms were reduced to static and he bit back a curse.
"How could this happen?!" Silas demanded.
"I don't know sir," the tech replied. "The signal dampeners we set up must not have been strong enough."
"Well, I suggest you get on that. Or the next mistake you make will be your last. Understood?"
The tech swallowed hard, nodding frantically. Silas then turned to the rest of his men.
"Get everything loaded onto the ship! We're moving out earlier then intended!"
…
Back with Optimus, he managed to get some of the code before it went static.
"Scrap. His signal's scrambled."
"He give you anything."
"Just that it's near a large body of liquid. Are there any MECH facilities near the water?"
"As a matter of fact, they have a shipping warehouse on the edge of Lake Michigan."
"Then that's where I'm going."
Optimus transformed and quickly took off.
…
Back at the warehouse, a set of large door slowly opened up as Sentinel was being wheeled out towards a massive ship.
"You glitch brains are making a huge mistake!" Sentinel insisted. "When I get done with you, there won't be enough pieces to fit in a trash bot!"
"Maybe we should have gone for the white bot," Dr. Thaddeus remarked. "At least that one would have been quieter."
"Once we're onboard, you have my full permission to remove his voice synthesizer," Silas informed the doctor.
Just as they got Sentinel onto the ship, a massive horn rang out through the air. Everyone stopped as Optimus came barreling down the road, headlight shining down on MECH and their captive Autobot.
"Damn," Silas let out. "Take him out!"
The Spectre soldiers got their EMP devices ready, but before they could activate them, Optimus transformed and hurled his axe at them, slicinging through them instantly. As the axe returned to Optimus' hands, the soldiers were forced to rely on conventional weapons. The bullets didn't hurt Prime, but they did force him to step back a bit as he raised his arm to block the shots. As he peeked through, he saw Sentinel being loaded onto the ship. This prompted Optimus to press forward, battle mask sliding over his face. He extended the handle of his axe and used it to vault onto the ship. He then swung the handle at the soldiers, knocking them off of the boat.
"Took you long enough, Orion!" Sentinel exclaimed. "Now get me off this thing!"
"Guess it was too much to hope you'd say 'hello Optimus. Thank you for coming to save me'."
"ORION!"
"Alright, alright. Keep your faceplate on."
Optimus swung his axe at Sentinel's restraints, freeing him from the table.
"Now, let's get out of here," Optimus decided.
"Wait, they took my shield and lance. I can't let them contaminate my weapons."
"More importantly, if they reverse engineer our weaponry, who knows what they'll be capable of."
"As if these humans could possibly understand our technology."
"Managed to capture you, didn't they?" Optimus remarked, walking off.
Sentinel sputtered, unable to come up with a proper retort before following after Optimus.
…
Back at the Autobot Base, Sari was still sulking on the couch, much to the dismay of the Autobots. Bee was pacing slightly, wracking his processor for any idea.
"We've tried everything," he said softly. "We made sure she knew we were here, we did something we knew she would like, and Fowler even brought some home cooked food for her. What more can we do?"
"I don't know," Bulkhead admitted.
"I think it's time to take more drastic measures," Fowler decided, walking towards her.
He walked up to Sari and picked her up off the couch, much to her surprise.
"Hey! What are you doing?! Put me down!"
"Nope, not happening."
"I said put me down! Now!"
Fowler just started carrying her across the room. After a second, Sari kicked out hard, catching Fowler in the stomach. He coughed and dropped her, trying to catch his breath as she glared at him.
"Bet that felt good," Fowler guessed.
"What? Being carried around like a sack of potatoes?"
"That's not what I meant. You're not sad, you're angry, and you're trying not to be. You have every right to be angry, so just let it out." Fowler held out his hands like someone teaching a lesson in boxing. "I can take it, kid, so let it out."
Sari looked at him for a moment, eyes flickering from his face to his outstretched hands. Deciding to go for it, she started punching the hands. She did this a dozen or so times, imagining that it was Powell she was punching. After a bit, she stopped, letting out a few deep breaths before wiping her eyes. She then just walked forward, leaning on Fowler and just burying her face in his shirt. He gently wrapped his arms around her.
"There you go. Don't shut yourself off kid. You're allowed to feel."
"Thank you..." she said, sounding emotionally drained.
"You bet, kid."
…
Back on the ship, Optimus and Sentinel made their way through the large corridors, keeping an eye out for Sentinel's weaponry. As they did, a large shipping container began to shake ominously, something banging against the doors.
"What was that?" Sentinel asked.
"Trouble."
Suddenly, the doors were smashed open, revealing Silas in a large mech suit about the size of Sentinel, armed with his shield and lance.
"My weapons!" Sentinel exclaimed.
"A nice edition to the AMPs, I must admit," Silas remarked from within the suit. "This device is quite crude compared to you Autobots, but I imagine that when I'm done picking you both apart, I'll be able to surpass even Isaac Sumdac with my work."
"You won't get the chance," Optimus promised, readying his axe.
He charged forward, clashing against the lance hard. Silas shoved him off as he activated the spikes on the shield. He swung it at Optimus, forcing him to duck and roll onto the ground. Sentinel ran up and grabbed hold of the shield, trying to pry it out of his mechanized hand.
"I want my weapons back!" Sentinel demanded. "They need to be sterilized!"
He managed to pry the shield away, quickly rising it to block a lance attack as Silas pressed his advantage. He kicked Sentinel in the chest plate, knocking him back as Optimus ran up and clashed with him. The two traded blows in rapid succession, neither holding the advantage for very long.
"I was wrong," Silas noted. "There is a soldier in there after all."
As the two locked weapons, Optimus extended the handle on his axe, raising him upwards so Sentinel could run up and stab Silas in the chest with his shield. Barely deterred by this, Silas rotated his torso 360 degrees, allowing him to elbow Sentinel in the back of the head. As he did, Optimus retracted his handle allowing him to drop to the ground, using his axe to slice off one of Silas' arms. The arm just happened to have the lance, which Optimus picked up. Silas decided on a last ditch attempt to attack, charging right at Optimus. He blocked his remaining arm with his axe while plunging the lance into the chestplate of the mech.
The mech surged with energy before finally collapsing to the ground. Optimus retracted the lance and passed it to Sentinel.
"I believe this is yours."
Sentinel took the lance, readying it as he stared down Silas.
"Payback time, fleshling."
"No!" Optimus demanded. "We do not harm humans."
"They were going to dissect me! They have to pay!"
"And they will," Optimus assured him. "But that's up to the humans, not us."
…
Later, the police arrived to arrest Silas. He was shoved into the back of a police cruiser by Fanzone, who looked more than a little smug as he settled into his seat.
"Captain," Silas insisted, "I would suggest against this course of action."
"Yeah, and my doctor suggests I drink less coffee to lower my blood sugar," Fanzone replied as slammed the door shut.
Fanzone got into the driver's seat and took off. He barely got a few feet though when another car pulled up in front of his, forcing him to hit the brakes.
"Hey!" Fanzone let out. "What's the big idea?!"
The car's passenger side door opened up, allowing Powell to step out and walk up to the car.
"Captain Fanzone, I'm here to insist that you free Mr. Bishop here."
"Not a chance. We got him on half a dozen charges and-"
"Like what? Assault? Since when did alien robots qualify as US citizens? Trespassing? This facility is the site of Sumdac Systems joint partnership with MECH. The ship was theirs to use as they felt necessary. And on that subject, didn't this incident take place in international waters? Outside of your jurisdiction, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps you should take this up with the Canadian Mounted Police force.
Fanzone grumbled as he got out of the car and slammed his door shut.
"Darn Mounties," he grumbled as he let Silas out of the car.
Silas and Powell entered into his car and drove off, much to the chagrin of Sentinel, who was watching from afar with Optimus.
"They just let that chop-shop freak loose!"
"I know it's not ideal, but-"
"Not ideal is putting it mildly. If we had done things my way, that human wouldn't even be an issue."
"It's not our place to-"
"You're Prime, Orion! You're supposed to be looking out for us! Not those organic flesh bags, and especially not ones who clearly see us as little more than mindless machines! Those law officers just let him go, without so much as a reprimand!"
"That doesn't mean he's going to be free forever. We just need to be patient, and-"
"I'm through with being patient with you!" Sentinel cut off before transforming and driving off.
"Sentinel, wait!"
Sentinel didn't listen, just driving off into the night, leaving nothing but squealing tires in his wake.
…
Inside the car, Silas and Powell conversed about the night's work.
"I trust everything went according to plan?" Powell assumed.
"Oh, yes. We got the scans for Cybertronian biology and can begin work on our own fleet of man made Transformers immediately."
"Excellent. I knew I made a good investment in you."
"Just one other thing though."
"What's that?"
"If we really want the best of the best, we're going to need a high caliber target…" Silas smirked as he glanced out the window, where he could see the red and blue Autobot in the distance. "Optimus Prime."