Chapter 12
Sacrifices Must Be Made
The new transwarp crusier was finally ready, courtesy of the Tripredacus Council, and Ravage and his team would leave in search of the false Megatron and the Maximals that had hidden Project X. The mission's takeoff was already an orn late, or two weeks as the modern Cybertronians called it. Ravage felt old every time he reminded himself of how different this new generation was from him.
As he drove to the takeoff station he couldn't help but glance again at his passenger. Syphon was in the front seat bunched up so no one outside could see her. Her black leathery wings shieled the rest of her body like a blanket, but Syphon could not hide her discomfort as easily as she hid her face. There was no real reason to hide, but Syphon was terribly anxious about the outside world, almost to the point of paranoia. Ravage could tell she was shaking in her seat, and he wondered again how he let that batty femme talk him into taking her with him on this mission.
"You should look out the window," Ravage told Syphon in an effort to make conversation, "There are many beautiful sights here in Kaon. When was the last time you were in Kaon, if I may ask?"
"Sree hunded years," Syphon replied, "Da houses ah diffent."
"Yes, I would imagine most are," Ravage commented as he kept his optics on the road, "Three hundred years would change many things about the landscape. Is there anything fun you would like to do when we get back from our mission?"
"I wanna go fo' a walk," Syphon replied as her joints slowly relaxed and she slid up in her seat, "Da schity is so petty at night. Like stahs on the gound."
"Why would you walk when you can fly?" Ravage asked cheekily.
"Don' dee shilly," Syphon laughed, "I don' know how ta fly no mo'. It's den too long since I did it."
"Than you should practice while we are in deep space," Ravage replied sternly, "You have allowed your joints to rust, and you will need to be swift for this mission. These are terrorists we are pursuing, not to mention Quillbit will likely make our lives a living pit during the trip. Be careful around this Maximal. She is dangerously unstable and has not had social contact for many vorns."
"So why is she cunning wis us?" Syphon asked dubiously.
"Because Protoform X, one of our targets, has an immortal spark and is very powerful," Ravage explained, "I asked for someone else with an immortal spark to assist me on this mission. I expected a Predacon since Predacons are 4 times more likely to be born with the rare mutation than Maximals. Unfortunately only one individual on record has the power, the spark, and the inside knowledge necessary to take down Protoform X."
"Killdit," Syphon stated rather than asked.
Ravage couldn't help but smirk at how Syphon pronounced the odd name. Killed it actually seemed to fit the femme better than the cutesier name Quillbit. He only hoped that the security measures installed in the space shuttle would be enough to deter that lunatic from attacking poor Syphon. Ravage still felt guilty about bringing a handicap femme along on this trip, but it wasn't exactly illegal. It probably would've been, except the idea of a Cybertronian being disabled seemed utterly ludicrous to those that had never seen cases like Syphon's.
As the dock came into view Ravage could already see the cruiser. It was big, but not too big, and had a sleek design; like a blackbird about to grab its prey. It was a fitting ship for a Predacon, and it made Ravage feel a longing for his bird cassette brothers Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. Ravage hated being the last one left of Soundwave's line.
When they parked at the dock where the ship was located Ravage saw that there were two asylum workers standing outside the shuttle talking and smoking enerjolts. He knew they were likely there for Quillbit, but he also wanted them to look over Syphon to make sure she would be okay during the flight. Syphon however didn't want to get out of the transport when she saw there were new people. She knew many Predacons made fun of her condition and she didn't want to have to deal with that.
"Syphon, you must get out," Ravage insisted, "We have to pass these mechs to get on board the ship. Do not worry. You will be fine. Do you want me to hold your servo?"
"No!" Syphon yelped, "I don' wanna endarrass you, Ra-vage. You're a samous sty."
"A what?" Ravage asked, not understanding at first.
"A samous sty, like Janes Dond," Syphon tried to explain.
It took Ravage a moment to comprehend but then he exclaimed, "Oh! A famous spy! Yes, quite the contradiction, I know. I do not mind holding your servo however if it means we leave sooner. I do not feel like disappointing the Tripredacus Council today."
"Okay," Syphon reluctantly relented.
Ravage then got out of the transport and walked around to help Syphon out as well. She was shaking like a leaf in the breeze and darting her optics back and forth to make sure there were no threats. Ravage held onto her elbow joint so she wouldn't fall over in case of a seizure, but she actually seemed to walk just fine despite how nervous she was.
"Welcome, Ravage," One of the workers, a salamander-former, greeted the panther, "The council has briefed us on your mission and everything you need. We could only get a month's supply of Quillbit's pills on such short notice, but we did manage to procure eight crates of enerjolts. They keep her from going all Devastator on your aft for a little while. Take it from me and don't let that prickly pinhead be sober during this trip, not even for a moment. She'll kill you if her processor is left to its own devices too long."
"Thish feels like a survival horror gane," Syphon whispered to Ravage, which earned a smirk from the old spy.
"Thank you for letting me know about her requirements," Ravage replied civilly despite feeling like he was being set up to fail, "Now, may I ask where patient zero is at the moment?"
"She's in the brig," The second employee, a roach-former, informed him, "It has been especially designed to hold Quillbit and is located near the center of the ship so she doesn't accidentally punch a hole in the outer hull. There is also a small door installed that only opens from the outside so you can give her pills, food, and enerjolts. Do not release her until you are ready to have her hunt down Project X. Understand?"
"Perfectly," Ravage replied smoothly, "Also, could you examine Syphon to see if she is prepared for this trip?"
"Nah, we're getting ready to leave," The salamander replied as he stomped out his enerjolt and took out a bag full of caramelized bugs to eat, "We got off work early because of this little fiasco in the making, and now I'm gonna spend some of that hazard money to hit the clubs. Woohoo!"
With those words the asylum workers left, and Ravage shook his helm at how lazy and selfish younger mechs could be. With little left to lose Ravage led Syphon into the ship and examined everything before takeoff. He would have to pilot the thing until they located a trail, and then once the Axelon's or Darksyde's ion signature was found he could put the ship on autopilot.
"How dig is dis ship?" Syphon asked as she struggled to keep pace with the elderly panther.
"It has two decks. Not particularly large, but not as small as an escape ship," Ravage explained, "Most of the ship's mass is dedicated to the wings, which are used to house advanced sensors and stabilize for landings. The supplies should be sufficient for a crew of three. I called ahead to make certain there were plenty of liquids for you. I would suggest performing some physical activities in the training room to get your body acclimated for the hunt. The council's orders were clear regarding the terrorists and Maximals...no prisoners, and no witnesses."
"Yes Ra-vage," Syphon nodded compliantly.
The pair were almost to the elevator that led to the upper floor when they passed a dim room/hallway that had a large glass wall on the left side. The glass shielded the room that separated Quillbit from the other two Cybertronians. The Predacons looked at their Maximal weapon as she paced from one side of the room to the other with the pent up energy of a bull.
"We are preparing for takeoff, Quillbit," Ravage informed his fellow crew member, "Did you take your pills today?"
"Nah, I'm conservin' 'em," Quillbit replied lucidly, "We don't have a lot, and I don't know how long this stupid field trip is gonna last. Figure I'd better keep the pills in my subspace until I need 'em."
"You still have a subspace?" Ravage asked in mild surprise, "Those use up a lot of energy."
"Get crashed, Pussycat," Quillbit cursed sourly at Ravage.
"Hi Killdit, nice to neet ya!" Syphon greeted the porcupine in a friendly manner, "I hote we get along. You'll like Ra-vage. He's nice."
"What the-?" Quillbit's face grew darker as she eyed Syphon, and the Predacons were nervous at what this sudden transformation might mean.
"Ah ya okay, Killdit?" Syphon asked worriedly while Ravage put his hand on his side holster just in case.
"A bat?" Quillbit asked harshly, "You brought a fraggin' bat on this ship? Why does the universe hate me!?"
"Ya don't like dats?" Syphon asked timidly, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.
"Get out!" Quillbit roared at Syphon, "Get outta my face, you slaggin'...rargh!"
Quillbit became completely incoherent as she started pounding on the floor and gnashing her denta. Her spines shot out of her body and littered the wall, with new quills taking their place seconds later. Her mouth foamed with an unknown substance, and Ravage wasn't even sure if Quillbit rememebred they were there anymore.
The shift in mood was so sudden that Syphon scrambled away in fright. Before she could get to the elevator Syphon tripped on her own pedes and landed roughly on the ground. Ravage helped her up and guided her to the elevator, away from the psychotic Maximal.
The earthquakes continued to rock the planet as Bitten and Waspinator held onto each other and the ancient sparklings in their care. The dead shuttle was holding fast and keeping them safe from the worst of it, but both feared that soon everything would disintegrate around them and they would be nothing but debris.
"Wazzpinator not want to be deztroyed!" Waspinator wailed as the room shook, "Wazzpinator haz planz!"
Bitten held on tighter with her right arm around Waspinator's waist and her left arm steadying the pile of sparklings. She wanted to scream, and yet she didn't. There was an enemy next to her, yet he was her only source of comfort. Everything was so confusing for her energy-deprived processor that she simply held on and didn't make a sound.
The shaking became less intense as time went on, but there was clearly still something outside ramming into the side of the shuttle. Sensors were going crazy everywhere, so it was likely a quantum surge or some other type of post-weapon phenomenon. The pair loosened their grip on the sparklings since the room wasn't rattling anymore, but to Waspinator's shock Bitten pushed herself closer to him to hug him for support.
"Why iz Hoppy Bot hugging Wazzpinator?" Waspinator asked in disgust, "Wazzpinator iz Predacon! Wazzpinator needz no one!"
Bitten didn't let go however. She buried her faceplate into Waspinator's chassis and remained as still as a statue. Waspinator wasn't sure how to take this. He knew Maximals were soft sparked, but he had no idea they could be this weak. It was pathetic, and it made Waspinator feel awkward and unsure of himself.
"Waspinator," Bitten finally spoke after several tense minutes, "What if...we are the only ones left? What if they all died?"
"It'z pozzible," Waspinator replied indifferently, "Planet blow up, Maximalz and Predaconz blow up too."
"I should not have come inside with you," Bitten lamented, "They could all be dead. Dinobot...there was so much left unexplored."
"Hoppy Bot iz friendz with the traitor?" Waspinator asked curiously.
"We were dating," Bitten confessed, "We were not lovers, but that seemed to be the direction our relationship was going. I should have tried to find him and the other Maximals. I should have tried to save them."
"We are hourz away from the Axalon," Waspinator pointed out, "There waz no time."
"I know," Bitten admitted, "And yet...what have I done?"
"Did Dinobot know?" Waspinator asked, "How you felt?"
"I think so," Bitten replied uncertainly, "He was very smart, and very cultured. He must have known how much I loved him. I only wish I could say goodbye."
"Wazzpinator never confezzed his love," Waspinator suddenly said, "It'z for the best. Wazzpinator waz better off dreaming. Dreamz hurt lezz than reality."
As Waspinator said this he rubbed his helm, likely due to a ghost pain from what he had vaguely described. Bitten smiled despite her usual stoic nature. It seemed over the past few months Bitten had found more reasons to smile. Her animals, her Maximal friends, Dinobot...
Bitten's smile faltered when she realized everything she loved was likely gone now. No more clinic, no more Maximals, no more Dinobot...no more anything. Her sisters lived, as did Waspinator, but did anything else survive?
"Who was she?" Bitten asked to take her mind off her wayward thoughts, "The one you admired?"
"That'z not important," Waspinator replied dejectedly, "She hated Wazzpinator."
"You can tell me," Bitten assured him, "I don't mind. Besides, if we are truly alone now, then who could I tell your secret to?"
Waspinator seemed to consider this point for a while. After a few more seconds of silence Bitten finally heard the buzzing mech utter a name...
"Blackarachnia."
In the Tripredicus Council chambers the leaders of the Predacon underclass watched on the screen as Ravage's ship took off in search of that lunatic Megatron and his fellow traitors. Everything was going according to plan, and soon they would be rid of every problem on their current agenda.
Surefire turned to his fellow rulers, Razorclaw and Payload, and brought up a hologram of two golden disks.
"I cannot believe how well the Maximals hid these historical records," Surefire commented as information scrolled down the image, "If it would net us an advantage I would almost forgive that daffy purple dinosaur."
"The Maximal elders have indeed kept the truth about the Great War a secret from our kind for far too long," Razorclaw agreed.
"It's worse than that," Payload added, "They also keep these secrets from their own people. If only we could have actually allowed Ravage to return with the items..."
"The planet is safer with the disks hidden or destroyed," Surefire assured his comrades, "I only regret the loss of our best spy. Ravage was one of the only ones left alive who remembers the Great War. His skills and tenacity are unmatched among modern Predacons. Unfortunately some sacrifices have to be made. So, did everything go according to plan?"
"Of course," Payload confirmed, "I had my mechs limit the supply of medication on board the vessel and the enerjolts contain a steroid that activates when it comes into contact with a terrestrial atmosphere high in nitrogen. As soon as Quillbit is finished killing the targets, she'll lose herself to the bloodlust and kill Ravage as well. No witnesses."
"Perfect," Surefire replied, though without the conviction that word normally entailed.
Surefire hated setting Ravage up like that. He felt like he was a Quintesson feeding an innocent to a tank of ravenous Sharkticons. He knew Quillbit could not be contained once released out into the wild. He knew Ravage would die. It didn't matter though. Ravage knew of their plans to kill Megatron, the Maximals, and if possible Protoform X. They couldn't allow him to survive and possibly tell his story to the Maximal Elders. No matter how shady he felt, Surefire knew planting that crazed immortal spark in with Ravage was the only option.
The earthquakes continued to shake the ground, and it felt as if the unstable precipice where the Axalon was situated would soon give way; causing the ship to fall into the chasm. That was the least of Optimus Primal's worries however. The crew had just captured Blackarachnia after she and a couple other Predacons had knocked out Rhinox and Dinobot. The alien weapon would soon bear down on the planet, and Primal had an idea to stop it. Unfortunately his crew didn't seem as keen on the idea as he was.
"A trans-warp explosion!?" Rattrap repeated Primal's notion; a look of terrified shock on his face.
Everyone looked at Primal as if he were crazy. That kind of firepower might stop the cannon, however...
"Hahahaha! You'll blow yourself to atoms!" Blackarachnia laughed hysterically.
"If it saves this planet it'll be worth it," Optimus replied with conviction, "And if it doesn't...I'm no worse off. Either way it's the only chance any of us have right now."
Blackarachnia seemed ready to retort whatever Primal said to her, but once the words and their implication sunk in the vitriol died in her mouth. She took a few long seconds to think about the pros and cons of aiding the enemy. Finally she realized that saving the planet meant saving herself as well.
"Unhand me, Pussycats," Blackarachnia snapped at Tigatron and Cheetor, who had been holding her back from harming the others, "I've got work to do."
The spider sauntered over to a stasis pod in self-satisfaction at her skills being so suddenly valued by the Maximals. It was annoying, but the fact was they really did need her at the moment. Tarantulas had programmed that stasis pod to leave the planet when he realized everything was going to blow, and the only one besides Tarantulas who knew how the technology worked was Blackarachnia.
As Blackarachnia worked on the vessel that would most likely send Optimus Primal to his doom the crew grew more restless. It didn't take long before Cheetor couldn't take it anymore and had to speak up.
"Don't do this, Big Bot!" Cheetor pleaded, "I'll fly the ship!"
"No! Let me!" Tigatron intervened, "I owe this world."
"I'm grateful," Optimus replied sympathetically, "But a flier is the only one who has a chance of getting clear of the blast."
"Exactly why I should be the one to go," Airazor jumped at the chance to save Optimus from potentially killing himself.
Optimus didn't reply to her since he knew she had a point, but he wanted a way to avoid sacrificing another crewmember's life. Then he remembered his most reliable friend, ally, and distraction.
"What about you, Rattrap?" Optimus asked when he didn't volunteer like the others.
"Hey, suicide ain't in my job description," Rattrap scoffed at the very notion, as Optimus knew he would.
"Or mine," Optimus assured him and everyone else, "Now start rigging an auto charge in that trans-warp cell. I'll need about 30 nano kliks to clear the ship."
"You got it," Rattrap replied before immediately heading off to do the task provided to him.
Everyone else seemed somewhat satisfied with the plan now and watched as Blackarachnia worked to make the stasis pod flight worthy. Optimus couldn't help but smile to himself. Whenever he was in a jam he could always count on Rattrap's wit and dark humor to throw everyone off-guard and lighten the mood. It had been that way since they were sparklings, and even now with the fate of the world relying on Optimus the ape still counted on Rattrap to look out for him.
Bitten and Waspinator had managed to get past the fear of potential death after a few hours in the shuttle. The earthquakes were still rattling the ground and it was still too dangerous to try to stand up or move to another part of the ship, but being around danger for so long somehow took the sting out of it.
"And that'z how Wazzpinator failed heavy armor mobility training in the third grade," Waspinator finished his latest anecdote.
Bitten was finding that when Waspinator felt like someone was listening to him that he loved to talk. His prattling was a little hard to follow with his buzzy accent, but Bitten didn't have the spark to be annoyed by him. He was just nervous and trying to keep his processor occupied. When Bitten got nervous she clammed up, but she understood that some people talked a lot when anxious.
"Hoppy Bot?" Waspinator called Bitten's wandering mind back to the present, "Can I azk you a quezztion?"
"What is it, Waspinator?" Bitten asked patiently.
"What waz Mommy Bot like?" Waspinator asked somberly, "There are zo few recordz of the war timez. No one knowz much about it exzept the onez who lived through it. Waz Mommy Bot ztrong? Talented? Zmart?"
"Q-Boom was a femme of many contradictions," Bitten explained as neutrally as she could manage, "She didn't believe in overthinking things, yet there were times she would say something deep without meaning to. She claimed to not want to be smart, yet she took the first chance she had to be adopted by an engineer and learn his ways. She was reckless, but only because she knew she could heal whenever she broke. She pushed people away, yet she couldn't stand to be alone. In many ways, she was an inversion of myself. She was outgoing, friendly, playful, rude, and energetic. She also feared deep connections."
"Why waz that?" Waspinator asked.
"Her father lost his trine before she was born," Bitten explained, "It drove him crazy with grief. Q-Boom wanted friends, and she wanted family, but she was afraid to love anyone the way her father loved his brothers. She swore she would never trine and never mate. She hated the idea of intimacy."
"Recordz zay she had a zparkmate," Waspinator informed Bitten, "Hizz name waz Cozmoz."
"He was a member of the Ark crew," Bitten recalled, "I never spoke to him. He was gone most of the time. I am surprised. Saucer-formers and seekers were enemies in the early days of the war. The seekers nearly killed all of them."
"Wazzpinator didn't know that," Waspinator replied softly as he looked at the ground in front of him, "Maximalz keep zecretz from everyone. Old Predaconz like Wazzpinator remember Decepticonz, but never zaw them in their glory dayz. Wazzpinator juzt wantz to know about..."
"About?" Bitten prodded.
"Family," Waspinator sighed wearily, "Why did Mommy Bot not want Wazzpinator? Why waz Wazzpinator raized in military camp? Why early Predaconz only raized by soldierz? Why doez the world belong to Maximalz? Why univerze hate Wazzpinator?!"
Bitten could see Waspinator was spiraling into a depression, but she didn't know how to help him. She didn't know Q-Boom as an adult for very long, and therefore didn't know what led to things like Q-Boom bonding to Cosmos or giving up her beast-frame sparklings. Did Q-Boom really not care about them? Bitten would like to think that wasn't true, but then what other explanation could there be? Perhaps Q-Boom had grown tired of the project she and Honey Venom started together.
"In you go," Blackarachnia said as she held the door to the pod open for Primal to climb in.
Optimus situated himself into the stasis pod carefully. It was small for him in his robot mode, but he would only have to be in the claustrophobic space long enough to discharge the explosive. The crew still looked concerned for his safety, and the tension could be cut with a vibroblade.
"Cozy," Primal remarked in an effort to lighten the mood.
"Just like a coffin," Blackarachnia quipped, preferring the more harmful side of dark humor.
Cheetor growled viciously at the Predacon, tired of her sass and not wanting to think about their leader dying. She stared him down, and his growling only grew louder as he bared his teeth at the evil femme. Blackarachnia was the first one to look away from the stare down, and decided instead to turn her attention back to Primal.
"You realize this is crazy," Blackarachnia commented.
"Sometimes crazy works," Optimus retorted, but then in a more sincere voice said, "Thanks for your help."
"Hmph, better you than me," Blackarachnia muttered dismissively.
The spider then got to work on the controls of the pod, but before it could close the crew decided to say their parting words.
"Be careful, Optimus," Airazor said sorrowfully, "Come back to us."
"May the matrix protect your spark for all eternity," Tigatron added solemnly.
Cheetor couldn't say anything in his worry. He could only shake his helm and wish he was going in Optimus's place so the mech he looked up to wouldn't have to risk his life for them.
"Hey, uh, just in case you don't come back..." Rattrap stammered, "…Can I have your quarters?"
Everyone else gave Rattrap the stink-optic for that insensitive request, but Optimus just smiled and tried not to laugh. Leave it to his oldest friend to know just what to say to calm his nerves.
"Whatever happens," Optimus said with a grateful smile, "I just want you to know you're the finest crew I've ever had the honor of serving with."
Everyone looked like they were about to cry, with the exceptions of Rattrap and-
"Ugh! Do Maximals always talk such slop!?" Blackarachnia mocked the concerned group for their grief.
Airazor's inelegant reply was to punch the Predacon square in the faceplate; knocking Blackarachnia unconscious.
"My sentiments exactly," Rattrap said with a satisfied smirk.
The pod door closed then, and soon Optimus was jettisoned into the air heading for the stratosphere. The pod travelled incredibly fast. It was clear Tarantulas was planning on making a very quick getaway in this thing. Optimus just hoped it would be fast enough to stop the alien cannon from turning the planet to rubble.
Optimus checked his readings again and pressed a few buttons to alter his acceleration. There didn't seem to be any defenses around the weapon, which was strange but also spoke to the cockiness of the alien species.
Soon the weapon was within range and Optimus was ready to plant the trans-warp explosives. He would barely have enough time to fly out of the pod, plant the bomb, and fly back to the pod to drive it back to the Axalon. It was a risky plan, but if all went according to plan he would come back in one piece and save the lives of countless species.
"Alien construct within range," The computer droned in a pleasant monotone that did not fit the tense situation at all.
"Let's do it," Primal replied to the lifeless machine, "Commence ignition sequence."
"Commencing," The computer replied, "Ignition sequence will activate in 60 nano kliks."
"Prepare to blow the pod hatch," Primal commanded.
"Unable to comply," The computer replied, "Pod hatch is magna-sealed."
"That's impossible," Primal argued with the computer.
Primal then started trying to pull the handle that would release the door to the stasis pod, without success. Optimus got a sickening feeling in the pit of his fuel tank. If he couldn't get the ship to comply with his orders then he wouldn't be able to escape the imminent explosion. If the ship's controls didn't work at all that would also mean he was on a collision course with the super weapon!
His sickening feeling grew a hundred fold when a disturbingly familiar face projected itself on the ship's screen. It was none other than Megatron, wearing a grin that was utterly sadistic.
"How ironic that you and I hit on the same idea to save the planet from destruction," Megatron taunted Optimus in a purposefully casual manner, "Unfortunately in my version the pilot goes down, or should I say up, with the ship."
The proximity alarm chose that moment to beep at Primal, as if the warning sound was punctuating Megatron's words. Optimus tried to fix the pod hatch, tried to correct course, tried to steer the ship...nothing was working! The moon-sized weapon was getting closer, and the countdown kept ticking away. Optimus was trapped inside, what Blackarachnia had so aptly described, as his coffin.
"Oh, you Optimuses do love to sacrifice yourselves, don't you?" Megatron goaded, "Unfortunately this time your foolishness will doom both you and your little Maximals. The Beast Wars are over, Optimus! You. Lose."
Megatron then laughed as maniacally as he ever had, and the countdown clock reached the last ten seconds of countdown.
10
"No!" Optimus cried out in vain as he tried to free himself.
9
"NOOOOO!"
7
Megatron continued to laugh at Primal's desperate struggle.
5
Optimus realized there was no way out.
4
"MEGATROOOOOON!" Optimus roared at the top of his lungs in rage.
3
2
1
The pod crashed into the weapon in a hail of fireworks and debris. The quantum surge shook the planet below, and up above anyone that would have looked would have seen bright red sparks lighting up the gloomy early evening sky. The planet was finally safe from destruction, but it would be up to the Maximals to figure out how to pick up the pieces.
